Tag: money

Trump Prizes

I saw this post and kind of laughed today:

I distinctly remember other times when ‘survival’ was the prize during other times and researched to confirm I wasn’t making things up.

What is most interesting is that we went into ‘survival prizes’ whenever the nation was in a crisis, such as the 1973 Arab Oil Embargo and the 2008 recession.

We’re not supposed to be in a recession now or crisis now. Trump keeps telling us how great everything is.

Yet, economists such as Paul Krugman keep noting that people are talking about recession vibes, or ‘vibecessions’. The economy doesn’t have a ‘feel-good’ tone. Instead, what’s manifesting is a ‘feel-bad’ sense.

I have the feel-bad tingles. Although financially secure, whenever I shop for groceries these days, I experience shock about how much prices have gone up.

For instance, Ben & Jerry’s was my ice cream of choice for years. Actually, I was a froyo guy but I can no longer find it in local stores. I still look, though.

I used to get a pint of B&J froyo for under $3. We’re talking about fifteen years ago? This week, an Albertson’s was heralding a sale on B&J pints: almost $8 with a digital coupon.

I flipped. $8 for a pint of ice cream? Has the world gone insane?

It’s not all Trump, but he’s done us a lot of damages.

It started with his tariffs and his crazy insistence that We the People won’t be paying for them. Any who took basic high school history lessons knew that wasn’t true.

We see his damages when we look at the photos of the laughably cheap props created under his eye for the Great American State Farm and the empty fairgrounds. We see it when he shows us photos of tacky gold embellishments on the home of We the People.

We see it when we look at the mess Trump made of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, listening and watching as he squirms, trying to blame others for how it looks, denying what he did and its results.

We see it in the paved over historic Rose Garden and the destroyed White House East Wing. We heard it in the lies when Trump proclaimed it would cost us nothing.

He didn’t realize how much it already cost when we saw what he callously did to the property that belongs to We the People.

We hear it when Trump weaves one lie after another about why he ordered attacks on Iran, how long it would last, and what objectives he’d established and didn’t achieve.

We heard it when Trump talked about how much richer he is now after being back in the White House for over a year.

We felt it when Trump laughed and said, we’re all profiting because the stock market is up, exaggerating that it’s up 85%, because we knew that wasn’t true.

And we knew it when Trump said that he couldn’t fix inflation. We knew it when he said he didn’t care about affordability. We knew it when he said he was a peace president and began ordering attacks.

We knew it when Elon Musk and DOGE made wanton wholesale cuts to government programs established by the government through meticulous processes.

We knew it when Trump’s Congress cut subsidies to healthcare premiums. We knew it when Trump promised not to touch Medicare and then cut it in the monstrously ugly named, One Big Beautiful Bill.

We knew it when Trump’s budget was all about defense, setting a record high, telling us that we couldn’t afford childcare. We knew it when he directed that the United States build battleships, an obsolete weapon system. We knew it when Trump said it was a Trump-class battleship.

We knew it when Iran fought the US to a standstill and closed the Strait of Hormuz.

As we approach our celebration of 250 years as a nation, the feeling is not of being united and free. Nor is it a feeling of hope or patriotism.

Nor is there optimism.

It’s a feeling instead, that we’re in a mess. We’re fighting to extricate ourselves, but we’re torn about how to do it.

That’s the crises we now face, and why survival is now the prize.

3

Broken Trust

I’m reminded once again why I’m suspicious of businesses and corporations. Why I think that they’re all about making money at the expense at everything else.

Not like it hasn’t happened before. I remember the Ford Pinto and the exploding gas tank and the cost/benefit memo.

I also remember the Sackler family, Purdue Pharma, Oxycontin and the opioid epidemic that swept the US beginning in the 1990s.

There was also the environmental pollution that took place in Woburn, Massachusetts in the 1980s involving Beatrice Foods, resulting in so many local cancer cases.

Not to mention the case involving PG&E and the Hinkley drinking water which brought Erin Brockovich fame.

And since we’re on PG&E, what about their role in the 2018 Camp Fire that killed 84 people, caused in part when PG&E deferred maintenance to increase profits?

I lived in California when Enron famously manipulated the power grid and the price of electricity in order to enrich themselves.

Who can forget the 2007-2008 recession caused by derivatives, CDS, the housing bubble and AIG (American International Group)? Remember all those corporate bailouts?

While I’m in this memory hole, I might as well remind everyone of the savings and loan schedule of last century, Charles Keating, and the Lincoln Savings and Loan scandal.

These are just a few examples of Why. I. Don’t. Trust. Corporations.

Now comes this.

Three egg producers will pay $3.3 million and donate 53 million eggs over price-fixing

Cal-Maine Foods, Versova/Centrum, and Hickman’s Egg Ranch — have been found to have colluded to artificially inflate egg prices from June 2022 to March 2025.

And there was Donald Trump throughout 2024, up there ranting and raving about President Biden’s inability to control egg prices, ignoring the bird flu of that time.

Now we learn that companies actively worked together to raise prices.

Meanwhile, during the 2024 election season, MAGAts regularly posted photos of grocery receipts and egg cartons, arguing a dozen eggs cost roughly $1.50 during Trump’s first term but spiked significantly under the Biden-Harris administration.

To which I say to Cal-Maine Foods, Versova/Centrum, and Hickman’s Egg Ranch: you assholes.

0

Wednesday’s Theme Music — Nonsense

Ashland, southern Oregon — Wednesday, July 1, 2026.

July has landed in Ashland. Looks much like June: blue sky, sunshine, but unseasonably chilly. 52 F when I rolled out of bed and fed Papi. Now 60, climbing to the high 70s.

Some of the larger news stories coming out this week, beyond Trump’s Great American State Fair Disaster and the various Roberts Courts rulings, is about how much wealthier he’s become while in office a second time.

Here’s one article about it.

Trump, 80, makes jaw-dropping brag after his cash grab is exposed

Donald Trump has boasted about how much money he is making during his presidency as cost-of-living pressures continue to soar for millions of Americans.

The extraordinary comments came as new figures revealed the president reported more than $1.4 billion in income from his family’s crypto ventures last year, fueling claims that he is using the presidency to enrich himself.

To summarize, as most Americans struggle with affordability, job insecurity, and inflation, Trump made more than $1.4B. As POTUS. While We the People pay for him to golf.

Remember when Trump said he would not golf as President, criticizing President Obama for golfing? Ha, ha, fool me once..

Defending himself, Trump insisted that ‘everyone is profiting’. Which. Is. Bull. Shit. That brings us to some Trump quotes.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Many reflect that Trump’s handling of the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool — Algaegate — reflects his terrible management skills, and how frequently what he claims and the results seen are almost diametrically opposed.

In the same way, Trump’s quote about the stock market and 401Ks in regard to his wealth and affordability show his uncanny ability to lie and exaggerate while demonstrating how out of touch he is with average people and reality.

  1. Trump claims the stock market is up 85%. It’s not: the Standard & Poor’s 500 index has risen 24%. No market has gone up 85%.
  2. A 401K is a retirement account. If you’re not retired and withdrawing from it, the gains are all on paper. They do nothing to help with buying groceries.
  3. Few Americans own stock, 58% by most recent calculations. They own it mainly through a 401K. About 21% of Americans have stock investments.
  4. The wealthiest 1% of Americans own more than the bottom 90% combined.
  5. Trump made his money through his crypto, not the stock market, so talking about the stock market is another distraction, just more of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!

I am not surprised to read and report that the MAGA faithful and most conservatives applaud Trump’s wealth grab while in office, attributing it to Trump’s skills as a ‘smart businessman.’

Well, then, Rural America, there it is, there he is, Trump, your king, making money off crypto. Hope all of your are getting off your asses and following his lead, because he’s showing you how it’s done.

Daily Kos added the perfect final assessment of Trump, his wealth, and affordability. In the end, it’s all about Trump and what he can get for himself.

Trump crowned himself the crypto president. Then crypto collapsed. – Daily Kos

Funny. Trump declared himself the peace president and started a war and kidnapped another nation’s president. Declared himself a unifier and verbally attacks and insults other Americans while sending in heavily armed ICE agents to grab people off the street. Declares himself the crypto president and crypto collapses.

It’s almost like there’s a pattern…

By the way, how is the Board of Peace doing?

Today’s song is “Ring Rang Doo” by Sam the Sham & the Pharaohs. The song was a minor hit in the 1960s in the US but didn’t make the mark that “Woolly Bully” made. It entered my morning mental music stream when I entered the closet to decide what to wear.

Don’t ask me why it came then, but it makes sense in a Trumpish context. “Ring Rang Doo” is a made-up word that means nothing. Much of what Trump says is about the same.

I hope your July begins on a high note and just keeps going up as we work through the season.

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music – Dreams

Ashland, Oregon — Monday, March 30, 2026.

We’re looking at a rainy spring day in our valley. Sunshine is on the low side as clouds gather and darken. It’s 49 F with anticipation that we’ll peak in the low sixties today.

Out early to do our monthly Food & Friends delivery, we’re back now and into our daily grooves. Our F&F route was small again, with several favorite regulars missing. We always what’s happened to them and hope for the best.

I had a rush of micro-dreams last night. All of them felt very uplifting. Seeing and remembering them was like watching a strobe light on a crowd of dancers.

Mom remains quiet today but she’s on our minds as my sisters and I exchanged texts about her, remembering her, wondering what’s next. We spent a bit of time remembering Mom and Frank together. They used to love going dancing and to estate sales, or the grands’ concerts and ball games.

They were a sweet couple, but Mom’s illnesses, accidents, aging, and medications changed her.

Trump has also been on my Monday morning mind. I’ve been wondering, what’s next? Tariffs, ICE, Iran War, ballroom, Epstein files, general BS — what’s next?

Trump wants to start signing the currency. The GOP is proposing to issue a 250th Anniversary coin that will feature Trump’s pudgy scowl. Look others, I plan to Sharpie his signature if that comes to pass. I also agree with the premise that the only currency Trump’s face should grace is a wooden nickel or fake funny money.

Stevie Nicks wrote today’s song, “Dreams”. It was a hit for Fleetwood Mac and a personal favorite. Slow moving like a thunderstorm, it’s reflective words and sound carries me into different moods and thoughts. It’s also a song about loss, too, mourning what was and what is now. That’s no doubt why Les Neurons put it into the morning mental music stream.

I took to a different video for it, finding this lovely acoustic version on “Playing for Change”. I hope you enjoy it.

Let’s hope peace and grace arrive and help us all to improved lives.

Cheers

3

Mom

Mom is struggling in her assisted living situation. It’s been five to six weeks in her new place. She has professed to be happy at times. She also has related that she hates it.

She’s accused others of stealing things. She found those items in her room later.

Her habit of texting my sisters at night resumed. Two sisters ended up blocking her.

The texts were often complaints about what was going on or demands that things be taken to her.

As it was before, it seems clear that Mom is cognitively impaired. She’s been through a lot of health issues and is on many medications.

Now Mom must pay again for another month in advance shortly. She’s not sure what she’s paid or what she’s expected to pay and is asking us for help. There are some hints that she wants us to help her with the costs.

It is so painful to hear about these texts and read them.

My sisters are hugely angry with Mom and struggle to help her. They tell me that Mom becomes mean and hateful and will start yelling or just turn away from them. I can imagine how emotionally exhausting that is for them. We agreed, only one sibling can address Mom, following the advice given to us to handle the situation. Maintaining that silence is so painful.

I want to send Mom money to help her out. We’re warned not to do that because Mom will probably end up depending on Medicaid. If that transpires, Medicaid looks at her previous five years of income. Anything we’ve given her will be considered as part of that and reduce what help she’ll be given.

I do a lot of sighing when I think about Mom and her situation.

Just a short time ago, I overheard two elderly individuals talking at the coffee house, addressing the same problem that I’m dealing with. A man and woman, they both looked older than me by about ten years, putting them in their eighties. He later confirmed for her that he was 79.

The woman was talking about her sister and her sister’s problems. Her sister resides in Arizona and won’t move to Oregon, where we’re at. But each woman is alone and need help, so they’ve decided that the coffee-shop woman will be a snowbird and go live with her sister several times a year and see how it goes.

The man related that he was an only child. His parents created a trust after they retired. He could withdraw from it whenever he wanted. His father cautioned him, though, that someday they might need that money and urged him to be circumspect.

The man related that he was glad his father gave him that advice, and that he heeded it. He estimated that in the last five years of his parents’ life, he spent about $1,000,000 to provide them with housing and care.

There are lessons in all of this, I think.

I don’t know what they are.

7

A Traveling Dream, and Other Snippets

Dreamed I was going to a camp. Just a small sort of outdated place, with low wood-framed buildings painted brown or dark red, with a flat, slanted roof. A woman I’d just met was going with me, along with her sister.

We arrived in a 1970s era dark Dodge Charger or Ford Torino. I was driving and it was night when we arrived. The sisters had no place to sleep. I told them they could share my bed or sleep in the car, or I could sleep in the car, but I didn’t really want to. They ended up sleeping with me, one on either side.

Later, we got up to go find food and ran into other people I casually knew. They had soup and bread. We asked where they got it and headed toward a little shack they indicated. It was a dark place with a low ceiling, where we discovered we needed to pay in marks. I didn’t have any marks so the sister paid a 1,000 marks for food for me.

We ate and then separated. I wandered, exploring, following winding dirt paths between the buildings and trees at this tiny resort. Night was falling and I didn’t have any marks, so I didn’t know what to do. I did have dollars but not a large amount.

It was dark. I went back to my car. Another car, very like it, was parked beside it. Both with nose in, the rear ends toward me. As I reached my car, I looked over to the other car and saw the sisters sitting in it. I wondered if they’d gotten into the wrong car by mistake.

Dream end.

This was one of three dreams remembered from last night, but the most coherent and lucid.

Can’t recall much of the other two dreams. They’re shifting, like almost there, not quite remembered or forgotten. The strongest of the two had me carrying baking tins. Something finished was in it but I don’t know what. Others were doing the same. Many of the others looked like me but were slightly different. When I offered my baking tin, I saw that their offering was fully risen and mine was flat. I went off, got another like magic, and it was full. I went to give it to someone else, but discovered it was flat again. All of this took place outside in bright sunshine on a calm day.

The main thing I remember from the third dream was that I was happy and laughing a lot. And younger, but an adult.

Ah, night work.

0

A Dream of An Uncle

Don’t know what’s in my water. Dreams continue rolling through me. This one featured a deceased but appreciated and missed Uncle. Died of a brain tumor ’bout a decade ago or so. He was one of those people who always demonstrated belief in what I could do and pride in when I do things, a good person to have around when you’re young and feeling your way.

We were at a celebration. Seemed to be a family birthday party. My uncle was hosting. He was young, energetic, and charming, the perpetual image contained in my memories of him, sunglasses covering his eyes, teeth clamped on a cigar. Don’t know who the party was for. Seemed like cousins were there. Weird thing is, it seemed to be held in a Japan or Mexico.

It came time for the cake. That was prepared for a local bakery. My uncle asked if anyone could pay for it. Yes, I volunteered; I can. I scrambled to find the money, just $25. Impatiently, he left, and went to get the cake. Finding the money at last, I rushed after him, encountering him as he left the store. “I have the money,” I told him.

“Too late,” he replied. “I paid.”

He seemed sad, disappointed. I suggested that I could pay the shopkeeper and he could give my uncle his money back. The shopkeeper, watching and listening in this tiny establishment, agreed. No, my uncle decided. It’d be too complicated. What’s done is done.

End

3

The Water Dream

So there I was…

I’d turned on the water, apparently to water the lawn, a problematic decision because snow and ice loaded the land. I realized all that when I went back and discovered that everything was flooded by a couple inches because I’d left the water on. People were looking out their windows like genuine looky lous. I could hear them commenting, telling each other, “Oh, poor Michael. Look at him. What’s wrong with him?”

The house where I turned on the water belong to Mom. So I figured I needed to turn off that water and reimburse her for what was sure to be an expensive water bill. I had a small paper bag with some money in it, but first things first: I was naked. I needed to dress. I had clothes. Most of it was very fancy. So I dressed out there in the flooded yard in front of the watching neighbors, first with undies, then with a pressed pink dress shirt, finally black dress pants.

Before I could get to my shoes, I saw Mom and accosted her. Her children, my sisters, were with her, as young children. I explained about turning the water on and leaving it on, and that I owed her, so I wanted to give her some money. Reaching into the bag, I pulled out a bundle of money, estimating it as $40,000, and gave it to Mom. She protested, “That’s too much,” but I insisted she take it.

She left and put on my shoes. As I finished that, ‘Dad’ approached. This father was a squat, chunky guy, no at all like my real father. Dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and short black tie, he wore a black bowler hat. I knew he was a drunk and was dismissive and scornful of him. He knew this but still approached, asking, “Can you spare ten dollars for me?” I knew he’d use it for booze but I said, “Yes, of course,” and ended up giving him $40. He profusely thanked me. I replied, “I can spare it.”

As Dad thanked me again and again and walked away, I opened my bag to get a sandwich and eat. As I pulled the sandwich out, I realized the bag was larger than first thought, and full of newly bundled money. As I gawked at the bundles of cash, I thought, there must be four million dollars in there.

Dream end.

0

A Happiness Dream

Sometimes a dream comes along that sparks happiness when you awaken and remember. So it was this morning, with four positive things happening to me in a dream last night.

  • I was given a chocolate cupcake
  • A major league baseball team signed me up a new pitcher
  • I signed a book deal with an agent
  • and I received a check for 33,000 dollars

Fun reviewing it all in the AM. The cupcake was dark and decadent. A stranger, female, gave it to me with a smile. She was going along, passing them out from a silver tray. The energy coming from her felt so positive, I never hesitated to eat it. And man, was it good. I offered some to my wife, but she declined.

I didn’t remember trying out for a baseball team, especially as a pitcher. As a young player, I had a strong arm but it was made more for the outfield than the mound. I got an email on my phone that it was probably going to happen: the Cincinnati Reds were going to sign me. Then a phone call was received that verified, yep, it was in the works. “Come in this afternoon to sign the paperwork.” My wife was on her phone when I tried to share that good news with her.

Then, though, after she was off her phone and I began telling her, I received another phone call. This was a literary agent. They’d read my manuscript, wanted to rep me, and already had a publisher eager to buy it. I was floored. As I jubilantly shared that with my wife, a man walked up and handed me a check for $33,000.

And that’s where the dream ended.

1

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