Tag: Night Ranger

Sunday’s Theme Music

Ashland, southern Oregon — May 24, 2026.

Home again, home again…

Papi was as pleased as he ever shows himself to be when we opened the back door and called his name. Standing, stretching, he paused to wash, then began to trot towards us, then stopped to stretch, and finally walked over, sat down, washed, and looked up: “Oh. Hi. Didn’t see you there.”

Good to see him.

56 degrees F here, roaring power lawn equipment has replaced the sounds of surf. There’s no beach to ponder, no waves to assess and admire, no fresh ocean air to breath, no ‘sea breeze’ to battle as I walk.

Bummer. It’ll be 85 and dry here…

One thing that struck us yesterday coming home was how empty the roads were. Motor homes were especially absent, but in general, it was light traffic to moderate traffic. Long stretches of secondary roads were driven where we met no other cars, followed no vehicles, and had nothing in our mirrors. It did not seem like the holiday traffic — or even the coastal traffic — we’ve encountered in previous years.

Gina, my younger sister, makes progress selling Mom’s possessions: $530 has been realized. The dining room table, chairs, hutch and sideboard are gone. Gina is wheeling and dealing. Someone shows interest, she reaches out, negotiates, shows them what else is available. More prospective buyers are coming by tomorrow. Vacuuming, sweeping, dusting, and polishing is underway. Our oldest sister is driving in from Georgia to help out this week.

Trump says the US is almost close to a peace deal with Iran. Let’s add it to the list of times he said the war was over, we won, or that a deal had been negotiated before.

Iran says that they’ll control the Strait of Hormuz and that their nuclear program isn’t being discussed. They’re proposing ‘fees’ instead of tolls or taxes to use the straits.

It’s the same kind of deals we often see on the local levels when our local government wants to raise money but knows that ‘taxes’ will cause a backlash. The answer: fees. We see it with airlines, too. Security fees, handling fees, administrative fees. Not charges, not taxes, not tolls — fees. I remember once reading that Texas had no taxes but they charged fees on everything.

Besides the Golden Age of Corruption, it’s the Golden Age of Fees.

The war costing our nation a small fortune, monetarily. We also killed many people, disrupted lives, and lost military members.

Economists note that the US has been adding to its national debt at the rate of $5,000,000,000 per day since October of 2025.

In an interest coincidence, October of 2025 is when Trump demolished the White House East Wing to begin building the Epstein ballroom under Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!

Coincidentally, Trump’s disapproval ratings continue to rise to record levels in polls.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Today’s music is by Night Ranger. The Neurons unlocked it when I was in bed this morning, remembering dreams and drifting in and out of sleep. During that fugue state, “When You Close Your Eyes” from the 1980s began playing in the morning mental music stream.

As I remembered the song, I also remembered this was one of the songs I heard while visiting Mom and family after returning from Japan on military duty. My youngest sister and I were together. The song came on the radio. She smiled wide and said, “I love this song.” *smile*

And I realized that’s why the song came into the morning mental music stream; that sister had been in my dream as a young person.

I hope this day is going well for you, and you enjoy a day of peace and grace. If you can’t have that, I hope you can at least have a good meal and some happy times.

Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

You might not know unless you have a calendar, but this is Tuesday, 1/24/23. I’m on assignment on twenty-first century Earth where the calendar is sacred, equally important in education, entertainment, and business in most of the world.

I’ve landed again in Ashlandia, a small town, but not quaint. If you remember, it’s located in a river valley in a region officially called the state of Oregon, in a section that is further identified by its geographic location relative to the rest of the state, which is the south. Hence, one staying here for any time will hear ‘southern Oregon’ mentioned. Ashlandia’s population struggles with identity, wanting to have nice things, unable to agree what the nice things are or how much they’re willing to pay and sacrifice to have their nice things. I’ve learned through my many visits here that endless conversations about the same subjects are reprised through months, seasons, and years. Only new home and business construction goes forward even as most worry that they lack the water and infrastructure for new places and many business locations are empty. However, construction is an industry which should not be stopped. Again, as noted in previous reports, they have empty houses and dormitories but argue about what to do about their homeless population.

Ashlandia’s weather is much like its population, muddling on as something somewhere in the middle. It is winter but sunny, cold at night, warming during the day. This day started with temperatures in the high twenties. Sunshine, which came over the mountains at 7:32 in the morning, has warmed the air and earth. With a cloudless blue sky capping the valley, Ashlandia’s temperature is now in the mid-thirties and is expecting to reach the low fifties before the sun leaves the sky at 5:15 this afternoon. (That may be evening; evening and afternoon seem hazy, even misconstrued or misunderstood expressions with haphazard agreement about when afternoon ends and evening begins.)

I heard a song playing on the radio. Radios are in every road vehicle and many people spend time in road vehicles each day. The song I heard was “(You Can Still) Rock in America”. This song was recorded and released in 1983 by a song group who called themselves ‘Night Ranger’, a name which they selected to symbolize what they stand for. Admittedly, the song enthralled my human form. Apparently, my host, a male in in his mid-sixties, knew the song, as he started singing parts of the song. He became especially energetic singing the phrase, “You can still rock in America,” which is also the song’s title. He seemed to become dour, even disappointed when the song concluded. My understanding of this creatures is still weak.

I will partake of ‘coffee’ now. Many, include my host, drinks this to stimulate them each day. It’s one of many stimulants available and used by the town’s population. I’ve attached the song for your sampling. I close with hopes that I’ll not need to stay in this body in Ashlandia for too many more cycles. Your servant, Cheers

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Floof Ranger

Floof Ranger (floofinition) 1. An animal that enjoys prowling, or is consistently on the prowl.

In use: “Bert and Ernie looked identical, but Beagles from different mothers, were waaay different in personality; Bert was a floof ranger, on the hunt for dropped food, while Ernie preferred to let Bert do the work and then race over to join in.”

2. Floof Bay hard rock band formed in 1979 and popular throughout the eighties.

In use: “Among Floof Ranger’s hits was “(You Can Still) Claw in America”, an amusing song about cats written and performed by the all-canine band.”

Sunday’s Theme Music

Runnin’ behind today. Awoken with a sharp abdominal pain at 6:30. After a bathroom visit, “To the Google,” I cried. I’d begun to guess that I was attempting to pass a kidney stone.

The Googles agreed with me.

I did some home remedies that I was sure would work because they were on the ‘net. Three hours later, that was done, but I was a bit worn out, so I read and went to bed.

Back up at eleven, my stream fed me this Night Ranger tune, “When You Close Your Eyes” (1983), proving that you can still rock in the free mind.

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Today’s Theme Music

Today’s song, “Sister Christian,” by Night Ranger, is an example of how music brings us together.

The song came was a hit in nineteen eighty-four. I lived on Okinawa at the time. I bought the album but I’m not a big Night Rangers fan. The album, though, entered the Sony CD turntable. A few years later, now stationed in Germany, I have a party going on at my house. Guests include a number of young airmen. This song comes on. Suddenly, two of them were yelling, “Oh my God, Night Ranger. I love Night Ranger. I love this song.”

So we cranked up the song, and the Bose 901s boomed it out. The lyrics are simple, and well-enunciated, and the song had received a lot of air play. Everyone present either knew the song, or proficiently faked it. Soon all present were performing in their best karoaka manner, minus microphones. It probably helped that we were drinking some fine German beer, doing shots of chilled Jagermeister, and we were several hours into the party.

I still smile in memory.

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