Sunday’s Theme Music – Trapped

Bandon, southern Oregon coast. Sunday, August 16, 2026

It’s clear and sunny, 61 F, here in Bandon. Supposed to rise to 66 F here.

Last night was clear and beautiful, to be sure. We stopped on the way to dinner to see what was left of the circles.

As you see, they were totally gone by then. Still, breathtaking to gaze across the beach and ocean while soaking in sunshine.

Didn’t read much news yesterday. I did read this Jamelle Bouie opinion in NYT about Trump’s fantasyland. Which, yes, I believe this, based on all that I’ve seen and heard from Trump, and the results.

“Trump, according to Haberman and Swan, has not simply junked this process in its entirety — he has set up his White House to affirm his frequently arbitrary instincts above all other considerations. He has insulated himself from opposing views and made internal dissent verboten. At no point does Trump receive neutral information; just about everything is tailored to his whims, impulses and mercurial disposition. The result is that he is isolated from reality to the extent that he is practically living in a fairy tale.

“Haberman and Swan describe a Trump who cannot see beyond the first few steps of any given action and is constantly taken aback by political obstacles and backlash. Recent controversies, from the depletion of our military’s stock of sophisticated munitions to worsening conditions on some of our naval vessels, are easier to fathom when you consider the strong odds that Trump is told precious little about the actual conditions of his war. More likely, he is told what he wants to hear: that America is winning and Iran is on the verge of surrender.

“So far, much of the destruction of the second Trump administration is self-inflicted. It is Trump and his allies who have wrecked the administrative state, undercut science and mired the country in a new Middle East quagmire. There has not yet been an external crisis — the kind of catastrophic event that demands an active and effective leadership. Through their reporting, Haberman and Swan make clear that if and when this country faces such a crisis, both the president and his administration will be caught flat-footed.”

The worse for me remains that the GOP condones this policy by fantasy by not talking about it or taking action, while MAGAts pretty gleefully support it until FAFO smacks them in the face.

Till Trump is back out of office, we’re trapped in a box. The Neurons responded to that thought with “Trapped in A Box” by No Doubt in my morning mental music stream. Song came out 1992. The song came out of a poem the drummer wrote. Although it didn’t chart in the US, I sometimes heard the song on the alt adult stations I often listened to as I drove around the SF-SJ Bay Area. I always thought the song has a Squirrel Nuts Zipper vibe to it.

Sample Lyrics

Trapped in a box of tremendous size
It distorts my vision, it closes my eyes
Attracts filthy flies and pollutes in the skies
Sucks up our lives and proliferates lies
Trapped in a box

Trapped in a box, four walls as sky
Got a screen for a window about two feet wide
My mind rides and slides as my circuits are fried
No room for thought, use the box as my guide
Trapped in a box

Ooh, trapped in a box
Watch the world as it flocks
To life’s paradox
We’re all trapped in a box

Hope you’re not trapped in a box, but enjoying a day of peace, grace, and good health.

It’s off to a walk on the beach for me. Cheers

Wenzdaz Theme Music

The cool night air feels like autumn. But a summer sun gets up and flexes. Blue skies clear of cloud debris help. It’s about 60 F now but we’ll cruise into the low to mid 80s F today.

It’s not just the temperature that informs on the warring seasons. Trees are shifting their leaves. The sun’s approach comes through the southeastern windows in the dining room, then leans back toward the east as the sun clears mountains and trees. Yes, it’s Wenzda, September 17, 2025, and autumn is coming.

I spoke with Dad yesterday. He sounded much better. As he probably wouldn’t survive surgery, he’ll need to recover from his fall injuries through rest and time. He told me that they project that will take six to eight months. In the meantime, he can’t put any weight on his left foot due to the pain it causes.

Today’s music comes from pulling threads. First, I was pulling threads on a dream, asking what a cheetah in a dream means. Then I pulled threads on the plot and characters in a novel in progress. Out of all that came No Doubt’s 1995 song, “Just A Girl”. I see exactly why The Neurons pulled the song into the morning mental music stream after entangling with the Writer and Dream Neurons.

In political news, Trump is in Europe. Well, UK. Polls show he’s growing tres unpopular. That, along with his increasing instability, which we’ve repeatedly witness, will cause him to lash out more and pretend more, like he did when releasing another image of himself as a superhero, which is 180 degrees from who he is. TACO will abuse his office of power more, threaten his enemies and allies more, and tell us all how great and wonderful he is, that he’s our favorite president. Deep down, he knows he’s a piece of garbage but doesn’t care because, thanks to being POTUS, he’s growing richer and more powerful. Some think he worries excessively about the Epstein files being released. I speculate that he knows all the soft and hard data on the economy is pointing to an ugly truth, that he was wrong, and he’s going to be proven wrong, and as that happens, even his most staunch supporters will quietly abandon him.

Coffee is dashing through my bod, delivering its caffeine goodness. Hope you make acquiantance with peace and grace today and it turns into a long relationship. Here we go, into the great wide open. Cheers

Munday’s Theme Music

Mood: Mundacity

Yeah, it’s Munday, December 2, 2024. Just a couple notes on it. Temp is rising and falling between 26 and 28 F. Sun is kicking in. First strokes can be witnessed in the dining room’s southern window, which catches the sun’s approach from the southeast as it jabs through and around trees branches. Fog is doing a swirling veil dance. Alexa said it’ll be 56 F today. Same claim made yesterday and we barely topped 43, so I know where I’m putting my money.

Many people don’t realize the Monday as a day of the week comes from Middle English mondeyne which itself is derived from Late Latin, mundanus. It all means ‘common place’ as in ‘nothing special’. Boring. Routine. Mundane. Monday. Munday.

Trump continues with his authoritarian cabinet o’ clowns. Mockpaperscissors shares a scope outta the New Yorker about the dishonorable Pete Hegseth. True grrrspiring stuff about his drunken leadership and how he sexualizes women. Nice note about his drunken chants, “Kill all Muslims!” Bet those Muslims who clamored for Trump over Harris are creaming their pants with pleasure over that. Who coulda known that Trump woulda picked such a piece of meat for a high-rankin’ gubment position. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.

My wife asked me last night how old I thought Papi was. We reminisced about his interactions with us. He first showed up on a fence back when Scheckter, one of the original Orange Boiz, was still alive. Papi, then called Meep for his tiny meow (yeah, he’s grown outta that), showed up on the backyard fence like a little Scheckter mini me.

Scheckter

Meep aka Papi

Records show Meep has lived with us since May of 2017. While Schecter was warm and sweet, Meep, I mean Papi, remains guarded and wary. When I informed my wife of my research, she remarked the same about the two floofs. Scheckter was a cuddler and lap dweller; Papi has been on my lap once for three pico seconds.

Dreams inspired The Neurons’ music choice today. I was reflecting about a dream of a levitating train I was driving through an apocalyptic ‘Merica. Thinking about the dream highights, I noted that it was a simple life of travel in the flying train with a small group of people. The Neurons shook my head. Out came No Doubt with “Simple Kind of Life”. “And all I wanted was a simple thing, a simple kind of life” keeps circulating the morning mental music stream (Trademark freeze-dried).

Sunshine owns all the living and dining rooms’ windows now. Blue sky speckled with withdrawn clouds rule the view. It’s 30 F. Coffee and I have found common ground again. Look up and open your eyes. Take a deep breath. Inhale; exhale. Here we go, December’s first Munday. Hope it’s a wonderful one for you. Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Sol’s rosy forays into the valley began at 5:38 AM on this fine Wednesday, June 30, 2021. This is June’s last day for for this year, it should be noted, unless we’re groundhog dayying it. Maybe we have been involved in a groundhog day scheme for a while but we don’t know. Only one character in the movie knew that everyone was going through the same day again and again and again…

Our cooling trend continues. Yesterday reached 99 degrees F. Today will be 96 F, a twenty degrees drop from a few days ago, and very welcome. The plants wouldn’t mind cooler times. They’re going brown and dry. I walk around, bracing myself for the tasks of culling, pruning, and pulling. Sunfall on this parched area will come about 8:51 PM. Then the real cooling plays.

The Lava Fire smoke from down Weed way in California is gone from the AM sky. Seventeen thousand acres, nineteen percent contained was the latest report that I read. The winds have died here so I hope they’ve died there. Complicating the firefighting efforts around Weed is large swaths of illegal cannabis growths.

I’m thinking “Spiderwebs” by No Doubt (1995) for my theme music today. We’re not spider killers. Spiders are beneficial. We appreciate that. They get busy with their webs, though, hurrying around 24/7, installing new webs, leaving old ones behind. I was going about knocking some of the stuff down this morning when the song came on in my brain. The song, though, has little to do with my situation, except walking into the spiderwebs. It’s amazing when the cats do it. Especially Meep, aka Papi. Meep will soundlessly jerk back and walk around the webs. Boo makes a noise and bulls through at a faster tempo. Big Tucker gives them a swat, washes himself, and presses on. I think there’s another metaphor there, somewhere.

Stay positive, test negative, wear a mask as necessary (yeah, stories are circulating about the D variant), and get the vax. Here’s the music. Cheers

Monday’s Theme Music

Out of nothing except I enjoy this song and it was streaming in my head this morning, today’s music is “Don’t Speak” by No Doubt (1996). Maybe this song is in my head because of the period. 1996 wasn’t a great year at first but by the end of the year, it started a satisfying five year run in my personal life. I made my first serious attempts at writing short stories then, and sold a few. Perhaps if I’d not done that, though, I’d not now be addicted to writing novels.

Writing novels is fun if challenging, rewarding, frustrating, and exasperating. Wait; don’t speak. I know just what you’re saying.

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