Tag: pandemic

Twozdaz Theme Music

Howdy, sports fans. It’s Twozda, September 9, 2025. 62 degrees F holds forth in Ashlandia. Marbled clouds headline the moment. Never fear: it’s going to move to 69 degrees F by the day’s end, although we may need to navigate more thunder and rain while we get there. Feels like autumn has got its dandruff up and is out to end summer’s hold on Ashland.

Yesterday early afternoon found us with a huge downpour. People rushed into the coffee shop bursting with news about how intense, sudden, and cold the rain was. Brief was added to its description as the rain ceased after ten relentless minutes.

Then, 2:30 AM. A sound is covering the house. My sleepy mind thought it was a giant fan. Asking, what fan is that, I roamed through the house and realized, that giant fan sound was rain hissing down with Biblical efforts. I returned to bed and sleep only to awaken a while later to my wife in the kitchen getting water.

A sharp, high squeal noise had awakened me. I asked my wife if she’d heard it. “It’s raining,” she said.

I listened. “It stopped.”

“No, it’s still going.”

Papi and I went out back to prove the rain was stopped. It was. Cool breezes swept by with friendly helloes. Moonlight bright enough to walk on broke out. Rain clouds were splitting up and racing away in different directions, leaving a starry dark gray feast for my eyes. “This is nice,” I said. Papi didn’t disagree.

After I was back in bed, a sound like a brassy chord being strong on an electric guitar awakened me. “What the hell was that?” The Neurons asked the dark room. Nobody was giving any answers about noises.

Dad remains hospitalized. Not much can be done about a fractured pelvis. He’s due to be moved to a rehab center today. Andy is also being moved to a rehab center to help him recover from his hip fracture. Sis is mum about her medical procedure and its results.

Gritting my teeth and swallowing my GRRRRR, I peruse the news. Trump is suing the WSJ and anyone attached to the story about his ‘alleged’ birthday card/notes to Epstein. I’m sure Trump is betting that the story will be withdrawn and apologies issues. Meanwhile, he donated the Bible his mother presented to him in his boyhood to a Bible Museum. The net responded with laughter and mocking about the Bible. Most doubt that Trump opened his Bible, read it, and went to church, except for publicity when it suited his needs.

More attacks have been carried out in several wars. None of the war reporting arrives with a sense that the fighting is going to end soon. The major aggressors, Russia and Israel, are well past reasonable lines about their intentions. All can see that Russia will not stop until it has Ukraine. Israel won’t stop until Hamas are all dead. Neither nation displays concern or empathy for the innocents they’re killing.

Economic news will take over today’s media top spots. 911,000 fewer jobs were created between April 2024 and March 2025, BLS says. US job growth through March was significantly weaker than previously thought. Economists and analysts are telling us that it means the jobs markets was even worse than realized. A large downward revision was expected, with many citing sampling errors resulting from declining survey responses, weaker-than-inferred job creation at new firms, and adjustments related to asylum-seekers and other undocumented workers. The pandemic’s impact on the global labor market and residual adjustments were also blamed. Trump’s WH thinks that it proves Trump was right, the Biden economy was a disaster, and the BLS reporting is broken. That’s certainly puzzling, isn’t it: the Trump Regime is depending on a system they claim is broken to prove they’re right. Classic MAGAt non-thinking.

All this has culminated in The Neurons’ song choice for my morning mental music stream. It stormed in Ashland, with more storms coming. Trump is riding a storm of criticism about Jeffrey Epstein. We the People are riding through the storm of data about what’s going on with the economy. Hence, The Neurons summoned The Doors and “Riders on the Storm”.

Coffee has dropped in for an extended visit. May grace and peace visit and stay with us all for a while. Here we go again. Cheers

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Twosday’s Theme Music

Mood: Twosdayized

28 degrees, Twosday come into the valley with sunshine, blue skies, and patchy fog. The day hovers in the liminal folds between autumn and winter, that murky zone called autner. Feels like it could get colder. Feels like clouds could march in and dump snow. But the sunshine claims it might get warmer. In fact, some forecasters insist, as they have on previous days, that today’s high will crack the fifties and stalk the upper edges toward sixty. But the valley’s stagnant air messes with the forecasting process. Yesterday’s high attained 45 F when 56 F was supposed to be the ceiling. So, I’m not planning to see 56 F today.

This stagnant air is weird. A still, windless phenomena, the chill it carries creeps through everything. You dress for much colder air and the house heating works hard because that creeping chill.

Going through the valley yesterday to shop, I saw that a thin line of brown pollution rimmed the more populated western region. Get used to that, I thought. Trump and his clown cabinet will cut regulations. “Business,” they’ll shout, and the sheeple shout, “Yes. Business first.” Business means prosperity, right? Wage increases. Profits. Bull market.

Most of the sheeple fail to understand that the government and economy worked better under Democratic control. Their limited memories don’t pull up the dark, sooty airs the United States experienced in the 1960s and 1970s before the EPA and their pesky regs came out and ordered, “Thou shall not pollute.” Nor do they comprehend the impact on health that it brings, and the reciprical effect on productivity and costs due to worker illness and absences. They don’t think that fucking deep. Or course, it’s hard to do so with Republicans bleating otherwise in a 24/7 cacophony. And it’s hard to remember and think whn your education is being hamstrung with teachings about how Jesus saved the world and climate change is a hoax, and look! Illegals! Trans! Woke! They also believe that wealthy people won’t hoard their wealth but will spread it around like fertilizer and turn everything cash green for everyone.

Yes, they are fucking fools.

Sigh. On to other matters.

We shopped at Costco. It’s been a go-to for us since the early 1990s. Our local Costco was moderately busy on a Monday afternoon. Mostly older shoppers. Ahem. Like us. As we entered and began our prowl, my wife shouted at the milling shoppers, “What about inflation?” She’s still riled up about that. I told her, “Babe, they’ve heard whispers that it’s gonna get worse. This is Doomsday shopping. They’re out here trying to get deals and soothe their troubled minds with food and toys to help them when reality crashes in.”

Being the second day of the workweek, it’s natural that this is called Twosday. Many don’t realize that the first spelling for ‘two’ or 2 was tue. Somehow, as the language and alphabet swelled into its current shape, tue became two. But the day of the week was already cemented in influential calendar makers, so Tuesdays remained.*

* Yes, that was all b.s.

Today’s music came out in 2020, while lockdown was prevalent. Being retired, I don’t work, so the song doesn’t really address me and my grips. But The Neurons called it up because I’ve been muttering to myself, “I need to get back to the coffee shop and get back to work on my writing.” Ding ding ding. The Neurons had a piece of “Work” by Pop Evil in the morning mental music stream (Trademark being worked): “All I do is work!”

Alright, coffee and I have come to an agreement. I will make it and pour it into my watering hole, and it will kick my energy up. Look up, open your eyes, and breathe deep. Time for another Twosday to be vanquished. Here’s the music. Cheers

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: homenormalized

Today is Saturday, August 24, 2024. It’s a chilly 54 F this morning. I turn on the fireplace and open the blinds. Light rain peppers the greenery with some needed moisture. Sunshine emerges and steam begins rising. Today’s high will be an un-summery 70 F.

We’re back in Ashlandia, where the worries are palpable and the angst is regular. A second well-established restaurant is shutting down after years of business. This is a trend we don’t like.

Ashlandia is dependent on tourism. Drought, pandemic, fires, smoke, and economics have all tested our tourism. Each have contributed to a point where the ‘you are here’ dot is tiny and prickly. We’re home to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. It’s our major industry, abetting revenue brought in by being an outdoor adventure location for fishing, rafting, and skiing (Mt. Ashland) and what Southern Oregon University contributes. Under the impact of those big five factors of pandemic, etc., we’ve been in a slow downward spiral.

We’d already lost the seasonal business called the Water Street Cafe. It’d been a longtime draw but the owner passed and the survivors couldn’t make it work. It’s now a crepe place, and we have high hopes for that.

Last week, the Black Sheep Restaurant announced they’re shutting down. Now Cucina Biazzi is closing. We’re already lost many book stores like the Book Wagon, and coffee shops like The Beanery and Cafe Boulevard. In their place, we’re gaining used clothing stores, marijuana dispenseries, and tattoo parlors. This are not major draws when every other town is offering more of the same.

Being back home, I miss stepping out of the Waldport vacation house and into the seaside environment. I enjoyed going out there each morning and tasting the breeze, studying the tides’ levels, and gathering in sunshine and clouds. I do the same thing here, but it’s not the same with the ocean missing.

I begin another theme for the coming week today. The theme now is songs with time in their titles. Lots come to mind. The time theme came out of being stuck in traffic yesterday as an accident was cleared away. The first song offering from The Neurons is “Time Won’t Let Me” by The Outsiders from 1965. The fast-paced rocking roller is filling my morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed) like I was back in a neighbor’s Wilkinsburg basement listening to it on a 45 record. Actually, I think my memories have better fidelity than that little record player in use. I would’ve been about ten at that time.

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue. Coffee has made itself comfortable in me. Time for the music. Cheers

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Floobating

Floobating (floofinition) – Arguing with an animal even though you speak different languages. Origins: Internet, circa COVID-19 Pandemic.

In Use: “Jessie would raise her voice to make her point floofbating with Spanx but it wasI no damn use because the cat would just get even louder until Jess finally gave up.”

In Use: “Many dogs begin floobating and employing nonverbal language whenever their humans suggest showers or baths.”

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Where’s The Year Gone?

A fellow blogger and I have wondered, where’s the year gone? I know, that’s not an unusual question in any year. Where’s the time gone, in general, is a diabolical puzzle. Just yesterday, I was twenty-two, something like that. I could eat what I wanted, now I wanted. Snorted doughnuts for mid-morning snacks. Partied until two AM, then went to work at seven. Ate three cheeseburgers at a sitting. Now I’m on Medicare.

A note on the Medicare. I wouldn’t have joined if not forced into it. I retired from the military. Had Tricare. Can’t elaborate on which Tricare. There are two thousand known variations of Tricare. Others are constantly being found by health professionals in computer systems. To stay on Tricare, once I ‘turned’* 65, as I did at the beginning of July, I had to join Medicare Parts A & B. Where I was paying nothing except co-pay a year ago, I was required to start paying $25 a month for my Tricare. Now I’m required to pay about $117 a month for Medicare Part B (A is free) to keep my Tricare. It’s a different form of Tricare, though. I’ll figure it out later.

Part of the year was spent on determining which Medicare parts I required. That included timing. You can’t just join Medicare at any time, you know. You have windows. You miss your window, you wait for the next window. For me, though, missing the window meant that I’d also lose my Tricare. That covers my wife, too. It’s becoming more necessary as we’ve moved toward being the oldest people on the planet. Other parts of the year were spent on questions about masking, COVID-19 vaccinations, variants, and shopping hours. But those were side ventures. Most of my time was spent wondering what I was going to eat.

In additional to a pantry and a refrigerator/freezer combo, we have a small garden. Tomatoes, squash, green peppers, kale, lettuce. It’s been a hard gardening year. Drought, you know. Hot sun, too. We covered plants up. They still weren’t happy with the heat, suggesting, let’s move to somewhere cooler, like hell.

We also have a chest freezer and additional food supplies in the guest room closet. It seems like I’m always wondering, what do we have to eat? What can I eat now? I can bore you to death with all the food we have on hand. I’m always thinking about more. It’s a joint decision that’s made. My wife and I have to agree on what to eat. That usually involves a discussion of what food is on hand. Then, if we don’t immediately have the answer (“Do we have any brown rice left?” “Go fish.”), one of us must leave our chairs and books or computers, go to the supply sources and determine if we have the needed ingredient.

After we decide, okay, we can make this, we discuss who will make what. “I made dinner last night.” “We had pizza. You got it from the pizza place.” “Still counts.”

A large part of the forces driving our discussion and my angst is that we just can’t go out and get what we want. One, restaurants have reduced hours or shut down. Two, which store will have what we need? How much do we trust them and their clientele to be COVID-19 safe? Is getting Ben & Jerry Ice Cream really worth the risk.

Yes, I say, masking up, and driving there.

What we want isn’t always in stores. If this pandemic has shown nothing else to me, it’s shown how completely dependent I am on our systems to provide me with food to buy. Whether it’s organic or processed, cooked in a restaurant or baked in a bakery, I want others doing it for me. This embarrasses part of me. That part says that I should be more self-reliant. More independent. I can fix computers but I can’t hunt meat. Or won’t.

The other part of me says shut up if you want me to go out and get a snack. Which I might do. Thinking about food has made me hungry, and there’s still a little bit of July to kill.

Where’s my mask?

*That expression of ‘turning’ an age always embellishes my brain with an image of me on a baking tray and someone using a giant spatula to flip me over.

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Saturday’s Theme Music

Thunderstorms passed through yesterday. A spritz of rain, some threatening rumbling, a bite of wind, done. Checked on new fires caused by lightning strikes. Nothing new found yet.

Today is Saturday, July 31, 2021, the final day of July, 2021. The year is half gone. Up in the northern hemi, daylight grows less. Heat still remains, though. And drought, out here in the American west.

Sunrise cometh at 6:02 AM. Sunset is at 8:31 PM. With more thunderstorms expected, our high is projected to top out at 95 degrees F.

A Mötley Crüe song pesters me today, leftovers from a walk the other evening. Caught up in my stride, enjoying a cool breeze, absorbed in writing in my head, I went further than planned. Suddenly, oh, it’s twenty minutes until sunset and you’re three miles from home. Turn about and start walking, dude. I kicked up my pace and did so, time to get home. Which led to home sweet home. Which invited in “Home Sweet Home” from 1985. This rock ballad features plenty of guitars, a touch of wistful piano, and strong vocals that range from soft, reflective humming to belting out, “Home sweet home”. The video depicts the rock and roll circus that so many of us think of when pondering the expression, ‘hard rock concert’. These bois were mos def into the glam.

Stay positive, test negative, wear mask as necessary, and get the vax. Wearing a mask seems like it has become more necessary once again. Case levels have leaped to April’s levels. Might even overtake those levels. Not surprising for here. Jackson County is a Trump stronghold. They eschew masking and vaxxing. My little town holds to both but it’s a destination spot for others. Tourism, you know? Interesting enough, we had to run an errand yesterday, sevenish PM. The vacant streets and empty parking spaces belied it being a Friday night. Were people voluntarily home, sick, or in isolation?

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Friday’s Theme Music

Today is Friday, July, 2021’s, final Friday offering, the fifth Friday of the month. July 30.

It’s a humid morning. 76 F at 7:30 AM. Sky of indiscriminate color. Maybe off-white. Tinged faint yellow. Little of this from smoke, little of that from clouds. Nothing blue. Just a long flat plain.

Sunrise — or daylight — began at 6:02 AM. Sunset will be 8:32. Anticipated highs will be like yesterday, touching 97 to 100, depending on small variations caused by geography. We were at 100 but other friends reported only 98.

Went with ZZ Top this morning for my theme music. “La Grange”. 1973. Dusty Hill – the bassist passed away so they’re on my mind. I first experienced ZZ Top in high school art class. Thanks to Scott M for bringing them in. Tres Hombres. Went out and bought that album as soon as possible. Introduced my wife to it. “Jesus Left Chicago”. “Beer Drinkers and Hell Raisers”. You know it. Maybe you don’t. Good album.

Anyone else having WordPress issues? I find that the toolbar for the blocks disappear. I can see it over on top on the left. Select a block. Gone. Oh, fun. Those features on that toolbar aren’t available once it disappears. Say, bold. Italics. Even the keystroke commands fail. For that matter, just selecting and highlighting a block is impossible. WordPress says, “Nope. Not gonna do it.” Not for all posts. Just for some. Here and there. Enough to make you ask your computer, “WTF, WordPress.” Enough for you to glower and grit and think, “Surely there’s something better out there.” Oh, but the inertia to search for a new one isn’t there. They know this, I think. Depend on it. I can hear their sinister little voices dripping with contempt. “They won’t leave. They’ll just post snide little comments and give us low ratings. But they’ll stay.” Snort. Snicker. I work around, using Word to type and format everything, then cut and paste. Anyone else having these issues? Or should I take it personally?

Stay positive. Test negative. Hope you can. D variant is striking even if you’re vaxxed. Difference is that less vaccinated head to the hospital. Fewer die. So wear a mask as needed. Looks like it’s needed again. And get the vax. Every little bit will help.

Here’s the music. Cheers

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Highlights

Been on a road trip. Three cities (and three hotels), five nights, six days. So, if I wasn’t online much, you now know why. I’m not one to advertise that we’re not in our house. I’d rather not highlight it as a target for thieves. They’re already quite bold and opportunistic without me providing some useful intel about us not being home.

We went north. Seattle. Nine hour drive. But we decided to break it up into two days. Something about sitting in a car for a long time, ya know? Doesn’t get along with my wife’s RA. So the first leg took us to Lake Oswego outside Portland, OR. There we checked into a Holiday Inn Express and had dinner with friends at their house.

Holiday Inn Express wasn’t a highlight. Apparently built for tall people. Very tall. Like, I’m but five eight. Had to reach to my crown’s top to use the coffee maker. Likewise, the bathroom sink was higher than my waist. My wife, several inches shorter, struggled to lean forward over this tall counter to use the sink or see herself in the mirror to apply cosmetics. Lighting in the room wasn’t great, either. Nice big mirror (a ‘skinny’ one, if you know what I mean). No light at it meant you’re looking at yourself in near darkness. Not useful. Bed was okay. Wife complained that her pillow wasn’t sufficiently hard. Had to fold it over otherwise her head just sank. That was just a night. No biggie.

Dinner with friends was a highlight. We were visiting them in their latest home. Lovely location and yard. Nice home, some dated features but they’re adept at updating things. The woman of the house provided us with grilled asparagus, rice with mushrooms, and baked salmon. All delicious. They served excellent red wines as well. Conversation was scintillating as we played catch up.

Onward, north to Seattle. Mostly easy drive. Tacoma was a slow-moving parking lot. Stop and go often. No explanation of why. Traffic information signs were there but either unused or gave us useful tips like, “Motorcyclists, ride smart to stay alive.” Helpful when you’re stopped in traffic, wondering why. Nothing on the information radio station, either. All this tech, right?

We navigated the craziness of downtown Seattle (not much different from Portland, Pittsburgh, Boston, Chicago, Frankfurt, London, Washington, D.C., SF, etc, to me, although saner than Rome and Seoul) to the Inn at the Market by the Pike Place Market. Everyone said that is the place to stay. It was okay. Good location for visiting the market but no advantage otherwise. Comfortable room, yes. Good bed. Hard pillows. Wonderful lighting and mirrors, although no skinny mirrors. Water pressure was okay but several minutes were needed for hot water. My wife said she didn’t get a good hot bath the entire time. I had good hot showers, though, thank you.

Highlights including seeing my sister-in-law for the first time in three years. Well, since her mother died. She’s doing well. I met her and my wife at the same time, and have known them since I was fifteen. Went to high school together. Before losing her mother, she lost her husband to brain cancer after a four-year fight. They had many terrific years together. I thought her deserving of that, as he was hubby number three. Number three was the charm. Besides those issues, she’s coping with a son suffering PTSD from his tours in Afghanistan. And she runs her own business. We toasted a success as she finally — after eleven years of struggle — was granted her patent.

She introduced us to her new boyfriend, an intelligent and engaging person. We had a good time with the two. Eating had something to do with that. First night was a terrific Indian restaurant, Kastoori Grill, across from the hotel. Night number two found us at Cutter’s Crabhouse. We didn’t have reservations but my sister-in-law talked them into seating us. The woman doesn’t give up. The next night, we were at Zigzags for a late meal. Meantime, breakfast on day two was at Bacco Cafe, which I found fresh and delicious. (My wife was less enamored of her fare.) Lunch for day three found us at Kell’s Irish Restaurant and Bar. Day number four, we ate terrific grilled croissant sandwiches for breakfast, picked up at Sisters in the Post Alley.

First day and second morning had us browsing through the Pike Place Market. The second day also had us cruising the bay via a Salish Seas tour. An abbreviated history of Seattle and some notables were presented, along with a glossy overview of architectural highlights.

Trip highlights to the trip poured in on day three. We walked down Alaska Way to the sculpture garden. Then up the hill to the Space Needle. We caught a break and were able to buy tickets to use in the next fifteen minutes. Boom, up we went to the rotating clear floor. Pretty cool. Fantastic views of Everett Bay, Puget Sound, Mount Rainier, Bainbridge Island, and the Olympia Mountains.

Next, though, was the Chihuly Garden and Glass. Focused on Dale Chihuly’s work with glass, the presentations stunned and awed. These were gorgeous creations.

For the evening, we were hunting for a night tour. Didn’t come up with that, but we did end up on the Seattle Tall Ship, Bay Lady, for a sunset tour. I’d never been on a sailboat before. This was a schooner. From raising the sails to listening to the various commands until finally heeling through the sound’s deep water to the passing water’s reassuring whisper, this was a relaxing experience. I strongly recommend a cruise with them, if you have the chance.

Saturday found us heading south again. Crawling through Tacoma. Stop. Start. Pausing to eat at my wife’s favorite eatery, Panera Bread, in Longview, WA. Then on down to Eugene for an overnight stop and shopping. This hotel was a regular for us. We’ve stayed at several places in Eugene but the La Quinta gives us the most satisfaction. Located midway between the downtown area and Coburg Road, easy access to either is available. Besides the location, the rooms are large and comfortable. Hard pillows, you know? Good lighting and mirrors. Fantastic hot water and water pressure, needed to rinse off the travel grime. On to home, and our waiting cats, on Sunday.

Of course there were good beers all along. Also good people, friendly and helpful. Was worrisome traveling with the pandemic as a backdrop. We frequently wore masks but when you’re eating, what are you to do, right? We were all vaccinated but discussed whether it would have been better to stay home. None of us are exhibiting symptoms but COVID-19 strikes quickly and silently.

I can rationalize it as a break we needed. Many will understand and agree. Others will fault us for falling for the pandemic and vaccine information, which they view as a scam. Another subset will see us as privileged, which I don’t deny. Still another group will probably condemn us for being complacent.

I don’t have an answer to any of that. We went; we took precautions. We sought a balance. Hopefully, we didn’t contribute to another spike.

Fingers crossed.

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