Tag: oregon

Thursday’s Theme Music

Newport, Oregon — Thursday, May 21, 2026.

Fog struck. The wind’s been strong the entire visit. Today, it felt like it shifted into a higher gear, cutting through our clothing with an icy edge. 52 F in the morning, the day’s high would be 58 F, but the wind would make it feel much colder.

We checked out early, heading north just a few miles, to Newport. Here we’ll stay two more nights. A new hotel, a new view, but it’s the same ocean and Oregon coast.

Meanwhile, we stopped at our favorite coastal eatery, The Green Salmon. It’s all vegan there. After a satisfying breakfast — “Only Murders in the Building” omelet for me — we fought the wind walking on the 804 trail for ten minutes. Retreating from nature, we went north to Depoe Bay to see if any whales were hanging around. Short answer: no.

Retracing our steps, we went back down Highway 101 to Nye Beach. A bookstore popular with us, Nye Beach Book House, was no longer a business. We stopped at a bakery and shared a large frosted cinnamon roll, hot out of the oven. Then, on to our Newport hotel, Hallmark and checked in. Once we were settled in, my wife napped. I went for a walk on the beach, one mile in each direction, battered by the wind in both directions. As long as I didn’t look at the buildings overlooking the beach, I could pretend that I was an exploring, the first to walk on this stretch of land. As it was entirely empty, it was entirely believable.

Is it any wonder that The Neurons are playing “Against the Wind” in the morning mental music stream? Well, it started in the morning but it played all day. The 1980 song was a hit for Bob Seger, who wrote and performed it. It’s about looking back and thinking about the choices made. Besides the wind, being alone on that beach made this song a good companion piece because of that connection about reflecting on life.

As far as the news goes, we went without knowing anything until about an hour ago. We’re just starting to reconnect with the world again. I see that Trump’s war has now been going 82 days — longer than the four to five weeks that he once claimed.

I see that the Epstein files still aren’t released and the price of gas here is still high, as it does across the nation.

It seems like Trump is counting on his ballroom to distract us as part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! Trump is now babbling about the ballroom’s roof as a drone base and snipers’ nests. Not sure why he thinks either are needed as part of Washington D.C. Maybe he’s planning to stay there, hunker down after he’s removed from the Oval Office.

I hope your day was as satisfying for you as my day was for me.

Cheers

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The Day

We hit the road at 10:10. Interstate 5 North. Good sunny travel weather, moderately heavy traffic.

A gas stop at Costco in Roseburg returned us to a full tank. Back onto I5 N for a few more miles, leaving it at Sutherlin, now going west through the mountains, to the coast. We entered Florence at 2 PM.

Neither of us had commented on the lack of RVs and travel trailers on the road. They’re usually good for slowing our progress to a snail’s stroll. The rule of the car is, don’t notice something good out loud, or you’ll jinx us.

Lunch was done at a Florence favorite, Traveler’s Cove. After a walk through town, we headed to our hotel. The Driftwood Shores Resort and Conference Center offers okay accommodations. We like it because you’re right on the Pacific Ocean and all the rooms face the beach. We were there for ocean, dude. It’s the waves.

I unpacked my clothes. Set up my toiletry. Arranged my shoes. Hung stuff up and put things into drawers. My wife sat and read her book while I was doing this. This is one of our major differences: I always unpack, like I’m living there. She leaves everything in her suitcase, pulling it out as needed.

We walked the beach, gritting our teeth against a stiff sea breeze. The sun was unblocked by anything, and the waves were strenuous, constantly pounding, noisy but soothing.

Back in the room, I opened a bottle of red wine, poured a glass and watched the waves until, finally, some piece of me whispered, “Let’s go see what’s happening on the Internet.”

So here I am, watching the waves, typing, reading, sipping wine.

The view from the room.

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No Kings.

Anti-Trump ‘No Kings’ rallies pop up in thousands of US cities

It was a good day to exercise our Constitutional rights and freedoms to show Trump and the GOP what we think of them.

Here’s a picture where I’m protesting. Yes, that’s me left of the middle with my wife and a few friends, on Biddle Road in Medford, Oregon. Large, positive crowd and great energy. Motorists were supportive about five to one IMO. I only witnessed two thumbs down, one index finger, one Trump is Jesus flag on a truck, and one young female driver yelling, “God bless Trump!” She gave us a great laugh.

Go HERE for more great photos of protestors.

KDRV covered the Ashland and Medford protests in southern Oregon.

Ashland, Oregon:

Salem, Oregon:

Seattle, Washington

Portland, Oregon

Medford, Oregon

Minneapolis, Minnesota

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Thursday’s Theme Music – Waiting

Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, March 12, 2026.

Spring is on the way in the U.S.

It shows here. We started at 34 when I rolled out of bed but with blue skies and sunshine, we’ve jumped fast to 50 F, hurtling toward the mid 60s. Best way to put it, with the daffs and tulips blooming and plum tree blossoms enriching the landscape, it’s a beautiful springish day.

Mom and my sisters are quiet, as is my house. In fact, while many things are going on in politics and world news, I feel like I’m waiting for the multiple systems to react — and maybe crash.

So I feed the cat, read the news. My wife and I think and talk as I sip coffee. All the while, I keep an eye on the headlines and digital stream and check my text and messaging systems.

Time was also spent looking at what the state has been up to. The Oregon legislative session ended. Our rep, Pam Marsh, put out a summary of the work done, a welcome reassurance that some government remains grounded, pragmatic, and functional.

Today’s music reflects that sense of waiting. The Neurons are playing “The Promised Land” by Bruce Springsteen in my morning mental music stream. I hum along with the thought of what was promised and what’s been delivered. This is not just in my life as an adult, but what was held out to us as children. Growing up in the television age, we were often sold impressions about stable, white families with Dad going to work and the children going to school and getting into minor mischief. Mom stayed home and cooked in her skirt or dress, wearing high heels as she vacuumed, did the laundry, cooked. Some shows — like “Hazel” — featured more prosperity, and a maid.

More realistic shows came along, such as “The Jeffersons” and “All in the Family”, but our beliefs were hardened by then. Yet, it didn’t often work out as television claimed it would.

Anyway, here I am, waiting.

Hope you have a great day and all that means to you. Peace and grace on you.

Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon – Saturday, February 28, 2026. An uninspiring flat gray tam caps the valley. We’ve reached February’s end and we’re cruising toward spring with 60 F as our high, up from the present 46. Rain is expected.

Our snowbank is at 41% of normal as they label our winter a snow drought. Fingers crossed that nature isn’t finished with the area’s snow deliveries or it’ll be a dry summer — unless that season changes and becomes wet.

Sis reports Mom has a roommate and is not happy. Her new roomie ‘poops on the toilet seat’ and then uses Mom’s wipes to clean up. Apparently, Mom had been settling in and considered herself happy until the roomie arrived.

Sis’s car was rearended yesterday. Nobody was hurt, the damage was mild, and the other driver took full responsibility. But the accident dinged sis’s mood. However, a bouquet of flowers was delivered to her as a four-year anniversary thank you, lifting her spirits again.

My wife and I both seem over our colds at last. Just mild coughing, thin and unproductive, struck this morning. My respiratory system seems clear and my breathing is well.

Looking at the news, I was pleased that the Senate again denied the SAVE Act to pass. The law was aimed to burden voters to provide identification, making it harder to vote. Trump and his allies suggest that it’s to stop voter fraud. Studies have actually shown that there is little voter fraud in national U.S. elections.

Trump and Israel ordered more strikes against Iran, killing more than 80 people. These attacks were part of a campaign to pressure Iran to stop its nuclear weapons program. That’s interesting, as Trump claimed attacks he ordered last summer obliterated Iran’s nuclear program.

Last in the news arena, the hypocrisy levels of justice hit new highs this week. Hillary Clinton testified about her ‘relationship’ with Jeffrey Epstein: don’t know him, never met him. Nor is there evidence to the contrary. Melania Trump was photographed with Epstein. Her name appears in emails, an address-book entry, and a 2002 message to Ghislaine Maxwell, along with third-party claims and materials such as photographs and third‑party claims. She has yet to be called to testify.

As usual with these shows, little concerns were expressed about the Epstein files victims.

With this as my backdrop, The Neurons dropped “Thin Lizzy” into the morning mental music stream with “Don’t Believe A Word”. Offering a nice bluesy tone, the song plays with the idea of what’s said to produce results, suggesting, that’s why what’s said can’t be trusted.

Lyrics h/t AZLyrics.com

Don’t believe me if I tell you
That I wrote this song for you
There just might be
Some other silly pretty girl
I’m singing to

Don’t believe a word
For words are so easily spoken
And your heart is just like that promise
Made to be broken

I hope you believe me when I say, I wish you have a joyous and safe, comfortable day. I raise my coffee to you and your prospects.

Cheers

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Tuesday’s Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon — Monday, February 17, 2026.

Our first snowfall of the season has arrived. 32 F, about 3 inches have accumulated in my area. Heavier accumulations are expected in the mountains, but much more is needed. We depend on the snowbanks for our summer water.

It’s a pretty scene out there. At this temperature and elevation, heavy, fat flakes fall without stop. We’re expected to warm up to 41 today and the snow is forecast to become rain. Temperatures tonight are projected to drop into the upper twenties, and more snow is possible.

Speaking for himself, Papi offered a disdainful sniff and found a place inside to groom.

I had my best night sleep in days last, and my mind moves through concerns. My cold is winding down, as expected for day 6. Only one nostril is blocked, no sinus pressure is felt, and the violent sneezes that left my abdomen sore have subsided.

My wife asked yesterday, “Which is worse, cold pain or your oral surgery pain?”

Oh, easy, the cold by far. I feel next to nothing from the oral surgery. The surgical team did a good job. I still have stitches, but they’ll fall out on their own.

My wife’s cold seemed to be gone by Sunday. I had it worse than her but for both it was an upper respiratory infection.

Mom’s situation has occupied me more than my health and weather. After her suicide attempt on Saturday, we had a mandatory stay put on her for evaluation. A psychiatrist reversed that yesterday and the hospital said she could be discharged.

It seemed like the hospital was falling short in several areas. Mom was supposed to be evaluated for 72 hours for mental health and physical issues. They also said they had to wait to see if her urine tested negative for infections, which was supposed to be four days. Their rushed timeline alarmed us.

Besides Mom’s health, we have questions over where she will live and how she’ll get care. Yesterday involved phone calls and texts, trying to sort information and get answers. Today we have more methodical movement.

Essentially, because no family members would pick Mom up, the hospital was forced to house her again. It’s a painful way to say it but that’s the truth.

Physical and occupational therapists evaluated her today. They recommend assisted living or a skilled nursing home for Mom. The social worker seemed remote and disengaged yesterday. Today, she provided recommendations and contacts for finding housing and assistance for Mom.

Venting a little, I foresaw this years ago and tried getting Mom into a better place but she, bolstered by Frank’s presence, didn’t want to address it. Now it’s a crisis. It could have gone so much better, but yes, I know, it’s an emotional issue for most of us. I worry that I’ll be like Mom if I have to make such decisions in my future.

I’m hopeful that with the focus on Mom, we’ll finally get her somewhere that can provide her with satisfactory arrangement. An agency has been contacted to work out the arrangements to see what Mom wants and needs, and review the financial part. It’s progress.

Dad’s wife reached out to me yesterday via text. He was writing Christmas cards when he suddenly became ill and died. The cards were never sent.

His wife told me that he loved doing the cards each year, which surprised me, and that his card to me and my wife was in the mail. I think it sweet of him and her extra effort moves me.

In other focus areas, I’m concerned with the different military buildups happening around the world. More war machines are being shifted to the Arctic area. Additional U.S. troops are in Africa in advisory and training capacities. History shows that such involvement can easily rise into armed conflicts.

It’s a great concern with Trump. When Americans — two military members and a translator — were killed by ISIS, Trump ordered attacks in December. Operation Hawkeye Strike against 70 ISIS targets in Syria was conducted in early days but the military campaign is still active.

Just as worrying, a second U.S. carrier group is being sent to that region. It seems like the world is moving from trying diplomatic channels to manage disagreements to using military force.

Finally, to complete the circle of concerns, got my auto insurance bill yesterday. Premiums jumped $50, adding to our general affordability worries.

Jumping onto the idea of circles, The Neurons ordered some Billy Preston. “Will It Go Round in Circles” from 1973 is playing in the morning mental music stream. I also enjoy the song’s musical intricacies, and the lyrics make me grin. Here’s my favorite part.

Lyrics

I’ve got a dance
I ain’t got no steps, no
I’m gonna let the music move me around
I’ve got a dance
I ain’t got no steps
I’m gonna let the music move me around

Yes, just let the music move me around.

Now I got my coffee. I had a cup yesterday, first since my surgery, but today, I’m drinking it hot out of the pot.

Hope your day finds a groove that takes you to a place where peace and grace join you and makes your life a little better.

Cheers

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Sundaz Theme Music

Ah, Sunda. December 14, 2025. Was 29 F and sunny, with clouds. That was an hour ago. Now it’s 30 with dense fog. High of 50 something forecasted. We never reach those forecasted highs these days. At least, not in the last seven days. I know, it’s a small sample size.

The weather disparity reflects a greater wonder, how is what Trump has done affect our systems and abilities? How long will it take for that delta to become fully revealed. Conversely, does that delta even exist, or is this a product of my life in a news bubble? And if the bubble exists, how long will it take for us to address and fix it? Some will probably hastily explain, oh, AI can fix it all. But AI comes with its own problems and introduces more problems. So it goes, as it has since technology has begun advancing and displacing people and changing experiences and expectations.

It’s kicked off between Mom and sis again. Sis complains that Mom yells at her and complains all the time. So sis yells back. Mom complains that sis is always yelling at her. Meanwhile, my youngest sister won’t talk to Mom. Says Mom is always yelling at her and is tired of it. Oldest sister has been completely disengaged, and sister number three has, in sis’s words, checked out. All this dysfunction is deeply rooted in family history. It’s a sad culmination of a lot of ongoing anger and resentment. Of course, I checked out decades ago, after one of Mom’s husbands threatened me. Saw the future and abandoned everyone. I’m not proud of it but I was a child. I admit, it left me damaged, too. We’re all damaged.

Of course, it comes down to one of those, “What are you going to do?”, situations. We’ve seen this coming for years. Tried to plan to prevent it. Living with Frank, and with Frank helping her, Mom resisted and refused to cooperate. So we held our breath and went on. Now the worse that we feared is happening. I, of course, feel helpless. Most of my sisters seem angry. They have heavier and deeper damage from life with Mom.

Worse of all is how often this sort of situation and worse is replayed around the nation, around the world. We advance, and yet we’re stuck. We’re smart, and we’re stupid. We can see ahead but can do nothing.

All of this extends well beyond families, of course. We see the same kind of helplessness in business, education, the environment, animal and human rights, agriculture. Just adds to the tension and frustration for us that we see but can’t act.

Been reading of all the flood damage up in Washington and northwestern Oregon. The rain amounts and river levels hit historic highs. Messy and disastrous. Stories of dramatic rescues are interspersed with stories, videos and photos of mudslides, houses floating in rivers, huge waves battering the coast, bridges and roads collapsing. State of emergency declared in Washington. I’m surprised that Trump and FEMA approved requested emergency assistance. Let’s see if they deliver. Meanwhile, hope everyone affected can find safe places to endure and recover.

I wonder what fresh heaping will come with the next tomorrow. That triggers The Neurons. They play “Tomorrow Comes Today” by Gorillaz for me. I watch quite a bit of Brit and Irish TV, especially dramas, SF, and police procedurals, and believe I picked up the song from one of those. I often pursuing hearing more of a song when I hear parts of it on a television show or movie.

Coffee has come to rescue me for the moment. Hope peace and grace finds us all and gives us some respite from whatever is stymying and hurting us. Here we, into another day. Cheers

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Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

The coffee shop is pretty damn full.

I’m in RoCo. It’s my new favorite coffee place, an old house converted to a business on the corner of 8th Avenue and East Main Street.

Every table is in use. Many regulars are in attendance. Like me, at a table, computer open. My eyes and ears are open even as I read, think, and type. Wonderful community and social energies swirl through the room like a strong, happy breeze. I love the noise and action, enjoy looking up at the faces, glancing at the fashion.

Most clients are, ahem, ‘my age’. They look like, ahem, boomers, like me. I’ll be seventy next year. I think I’m in the middle of the age spectrum here. Sure, there are so younger outliers. Teenagers who look like they’re wearing colorful fleece pajamas come in as pairs, order, take their stuff and leave. A few twenty-somethings, thirtyish, and fortyish folks are partaking of drink and food, chatting with others, reading, so forth. Hoka shoes are spotted on many, the shoes of my people. Columbia sportwear and Patagonia dominates. They’re the clothes of my tribe, but this is Oregon, where some of that stuff is produced, and where Columbia is headquartered, up north, west of Portland. Two children, about ten, are also present with an older woman. The children are on ice cream on this chilly, foggy, autumn day. The weather doesn’t daunt them from enjoying a cold but sweet treat.

The baristas take orders, prepare, and serve, all laughing and chatting as they do. Regulars come in and get greeted by name, including Sugar the dog, who waves their tail in happiness and await their standard treat.

Sunshine has burst through outside. Cold air storms me as the doors open and close. This is the United States, Oregon, Ashlandia, in 2025.

4

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

Call it first world blues. Again.

The annual property taxes bill arrived in the mail.

Normally a mild-mannered but curmudgeonly individual since I was young, the tax bill brought out my dour side.

I vented to my wife. “Our real market value declined by nine thousand but the assessed value increased by two. The land increased in value but the structure’s value plopped by a few thousand. Yet, the tax has increased a few hundred dollars.”

Used to the annual rant, my wife nodded in feigned sympathy and fed me some new irritation fuel. “That’s so we can pay our city manager their ridiculous salary.”

Yes, we’re in an Ashlandia uproar over the city manager’s compensation. She doesn’t live in Ashland, and makes 226K a year after a 30K pay raise. Total compensation pushes her package close to 400K a year. She earns more than any other city manager in the area, yet there is a general impression among the hoi polloi that things in the city are going in the wrong flippin’ direction. Fer instance, while the city manager and other ‘managers’ were given raises, the city laid off maintenance and office people and cut back services. Like, WTF, over?

I pointed out to my wife, though, “The city manager’s pay doesn’t come out of this. This is the county’s tax bill.” I then read her the itemized list of bond issues we’re supporting in our $6200 tax bill (with discounts for paying it on time and in full in November). Most of it is for the Ashland School District. Yet, Ashland Schools needed a $890,000 donation to make ends meet.

This all does not computer. Our house was built in 2005. Three bedrooms, two baths. Almost 1900 square feet, it’s not large or fancy, all on just under a quarter acre of land.

On the other hand, I reminded myself. I have a decent house and life. I can afford to pay these taxes when it will strain others.

Ranting is in me, though. I’ll rant, let it go, pay it, and move on. Then, though the subject came up in NextDoor. Multiple people turned out to have the same opinion as me about the subject. Reading their comments validated my opinions and insights. Thus comforted, I slept well.

For the record, here’s more about the donation to the school district from last week. Cheers

Kelly Clarkson Is Amazed By $1 Million Anonymous Donor Who Saved Oregon School District

Ashland School District in Oregon was facing an $8 million deficit last year, until an anonymous donor stepped in with a nearly $1 million donation to save teachers’ jobs and student programs. Kelly meets superintendent Dr. Joseph Hattrick, executive director of the school district’s foundation Erica Thompson, as well as students Soren and Grace and teacher Paul, who share how the community came together to thank the donor. Watch till the end for another huge surprise for the Ashland School District from Scholastic and Kelly!

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Satyrdaz Theme Music

September is dashing through the weekdaz. We’ve already punched through to Satyrda, September 6, 2025. It wasn’t hot. Rain fell. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed. Hail slammed us. Yes, it was an Oregon road trip.

Here is “On the Road Again”. Canned Heat. At Woodstock.

Hope your day was well, my fellow earth dwellers, and peace and grace found and kept you. Cheers

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