Sundaz Theme Music

November 2, 2025, has taken hold. It firmly established that today’s season is autumn. Golden leaves are becoming golden brown leaf drifts. Naked branches shiver with the wind. 45 F now, worry not because today’s high will zoom to 57 F. Must say, yesterday’s 68 felt like a faux offering.

We lit a candle for Steve at 5 PM yesterday, per his widow’s request. That flame called to mind Frank, but also Chuck. Chuck is Bonnie’s hubby. I met him but twice, I think. Now he’s into hospice. Mom, meanwhile, has bounced back in a strong way. Physical therapy is being scheduled. This is Mom’s way, to bounce back, gain confidence and strength, only to be zapped by some new fall, injury, or organ issue. Been going on for a decade. Each time she bottoms out, it’s a little deeper, and the crawl out is slower and more energy consuming. We talked together about an actor dying when they were 100, June Lockhart. Mom said, “I don’t think I’ll get anywhere near that,” with glum introspection.

Today’s music is another gift of The Neurons. “I Wouldn’t Want to Be Like You” is a 1977 Alan Parsons Project creation. The song popped up in the morning mental music stream as I read about Trumpy’s Halloween gala, the one thrown while so many sink deeper into food insecurity.

Here are the lyrics, offered up by Songmeanings.

If I had a mind to
I wouldn’t want to think like you
And if I had time to
I wouldn’t want to talk to you

I don’t care
What you do
I wouldn’t want to be like you

If I was high class
I wouldn’t need a buck to pass
And if I was a fall guy
I wouldn’t need no alibi

I don’t care
What you do
I wouldn’t want to be like you

Back on the bottom line
Diggin’ for a lousy dime
If I hit a mother lode
I’d cover anything that showed

I don’t care
What you do
I wouldn’t want to be like you

I did a glance of the news. Did Trump recall the time he landed on the moon? He was the first one there, took the first steps for man, “Beautiful steps,” he said, “everyone told me they were the most perfect steps. They couldn’t believe how perfect they are.”

I imagine that somewhere in Trump’s altered reality, he’s a great friend to people of color and a champion to the poor. Bet he remembers marching across the bridge and standing for integration at Selma. Bet he recalls a time when he landed at Normandy and fought the Germans, who, he thought, “Were pretty good guys, really, just working hard, doing their jobs.” Trump believes with a glint of teary eyes, he is as persecuted as Jesus, nailed to a cross. Then he wipes the tears away, visits his new cold, black and white, dull, creativity-empty bathroom, beaming at its wonderful hard angles and linear symmetry, and then goes out and golfs, because he deserves a break. MAGAts everywhere breathlessly applaud, then hurry to buy meat before the prices go up, happy they have an extra freezer to store it because it’s gonna get pricy, they’ve heard the fake news, scowling at the homeless, stepping around the poor, reminding themselves to clean the house, because cleanliness is next to godliness.

Meanwhile, is that Epstein in the clouds, smirking at Trump, remembering how they used to run together, shaking his head with a laugh and whispering, “Oh, that Donnie. He never changes. He just gets more Donnie.” Perhaps someday they’ll meet and Trump will regale Epstein with details about how he starved the poor during the Great Epstein Government Shutdown of 2025. “You should’ve seen them, Jeffie,” Trump says, then launches into a mocking imitation of a person begging for food. “Please, we’re starving.” The two bodies shake with merriment.

Hope grace and peace find us today and every day. Even for just a nano. Coffee has found me and is shaking hands with some Neurons, making plans. I’m sure they’ll let me know what’s going on in a little bit. Cheers

Sunda’s Theme Music

Sunda, July 20, 2025, has entered the play. 73 F, summer is currently riding the norms in Ashlandia. A high of 90 F is expected and the sky is cloud-free blue. Smoke scents surf the wind, enough to be a smelly irritant but not enough to change the air quality or discolor the sky.

This is the Apollo 11 moon-landing anniversary. One giant leap, all that. Seems like it was last night that I sat in our Penn Hills wood-paneled basement game room, watching the news on the big color television as a 13 year old. Then I went outside and looked for the moon again. Seems like we progressed for a long time after that, but now as a nation, as a world of people, we’re falling backwards. Bummer to consider as my body curves into its 69th year. Of course, history slides on its own spectrum of peaks and valleys as nature and political wins and losses bend the trajectories. Time will tell what we’ll be remembering as history in 2075, and how a person like me will look back on it.

I perused this morning’s news with sighs. Flooding and deaths in South Korea, questions about Trump’s state of mental health, death and disaster in more places, lawsuits, etc. As far as Trump’s worsening gibbering, I don’t expect his loyalists to do anything about it because that would disrupt their power trips. That’s what it’s all about for enablers like Noem, Biondi, Kennedy, and the whole Project 2025 gang.

We went dancing yesterday. An annual thing, a troop of fifteen humans and one dog met on the shores of the Lake of the Woods Resort at 3 PM. Chatting, dancing, eating, we enjoyed being outside in sunshine, cooler air, smoke free air, enjoying Lisa & the Dynamics as they ably covered pop, rock, and country hits. Nice being away from the routines and the news for a few hours.

Today’s song comes from yesterday’s outing. “Everyone just have a good time,” was said and The Neurons said, “Kick it.” So, this morning has “Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO from 2011 in the morning mental music stream. The song was a pretty big hit back then, was frequently heard via television and radio while I was traveling and running errands, but I haven’t heard it in a few years. Synth music, it’s made for dancing and has simple lyrics.

Back to Sunda I go. Hope you have the best day possible. That’s what I’m gunning for. Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Happy National Moon Day. Yes, it’s the day in America so many children relish, the one where you are allowed and even encouraged to moon people. By that, I mean that you arrange your clothes to expose your rear and – hold on, someone is trying to tell me something.

Oh. I’m told that I’m wrong about Moon Day. It’s about something else entirely.

In honor of this day, The Neurons are singing the Beach Boys 1965 cover of “Barbara Ann”. I refuse to ask them why. They’re sitting there, smirking at me, sniggering and giggling like children, and I won’t give them the pleasure of asking what on Earth prompted this song on Moon Day. I do enjoy the song. Singing it entertains me. Good way to have fun by myself, although I have other ways, too.

It is July 20, 2022, the anniversary of the first man on the moon. I do remember watching it unfold on my color TV alone in the game room and thought it pretty cool. I’d already built models of the LEM and the rest, so you know I was into it.

Today is also Wednesday. It’s currently 22 C after an overnight low of 62 F. Today’s high will reach almost 38 C today after achieving 97 F yesterday. No clouds are out there. I was outside about twenty minutes before sunrise this morning, looking for Papi as I’d not seen nor heard him all night. He didn’t show up until after 5:52, when the sun was breaching the sky in a place that I couldn’t see. Sunset will be at 8:42 PM.

You know about COVID-19 and precautions, testing, etc? I hope so by now. So, you know, do them. Okay, coffee awaits. We have liftoff.

Peace out.

Sunday’s Theme Music

With all this Apollo 11 hoopla going on, naturally I thought of moon songs, and ended up streaming The Police and “Walking on the Moon” (1979).

I’ve read many account of Americans who decline to categorically embrace that humans walked on the Moon, despite NASA’s evidence. Ryan Newman, a NASCAR driver, isn’t ready to embrace it; he’s only seen photographs. Photographs, videos, rocks, etc., can all be faked.

I know how he feels. I’ve never met him. I’ve only seen photographs and videos of Ryan Newman. He might not exist outside of CGI. For all I know, he may not have said the words attributed to him. So really, if a fake person who only exists on photographs, videos, magazines, and newspapers claims that another event is faked, does the first cancel the second?

It’ll take some giant steps. If humans ever get to Mars, I wonder how many of them will believe it?

Can You Remember?

On this day, the moon landing took place.

I remember it. I was a newly-minted thirteen-year-old. I watched the historic event downstairs. Downstairs was the cellar, or basement, as we called it, in Penn Hills, Pennsylvania. That’s where the family room, laundry room, garage, and my bedroom were located. It used to flood when it rained hard. Fortunately, the Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, suburb only experienced rain about half of the year.

The lights were off in the family room, and cool air bathed the space. Sitting on the couch, the one that used to be upstairs before we bought new living room furniture, I watched Eagle land on the moon on a big Magnavox console color television. I always thought the television was stolen and purchased from a fence. Even when new, it had a small area in the upper right corner where the picture tube – televisions had picture tubes, back then – appeared cracked. At least, what it showed was a distorted bubble of rainbow colors.

It was good enough to watch the moon landing, though. There wasn’t even a need to rotate the outdoor antenna or adjust the rabbit ears. All three major networks were carrying the event. We only had the three, then. Cable news wasn’t carrying it, because cable hadn’t proliferated around the nation like a blackberry bramble gone wild, and there weren’t any national cable news channels. They were still in our future.

We were excited about the future, despite what was happening and had happened. Perhaps I was only excited because I was young. The Vietnam war still continued, and Nixon was in the White House. Watergate was still a few years away. So was our first gasoline crises since World War II. Microwaves were only emerging, and we mostly played music on forty-five and thirty-three R.P.M. vinyl records. We also listened to music on radios, especially in our cars, especially A.M. It was pretty impressive that our old Dodge had a push-button radio. Later on, after the first man walked on the moon and made his famous utterance, I went outside and gazed up at the stars, wondering what the future would bring.

All in all, it was a pretty cool night.

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑