Hello, world. Saturday, July 15, 2023. It’s my little sister’s birthday. She was my only little sister for several years before the other two came along. Two years younger than me, we frequently played softball together in pickup games on the street. Whole neighborhood was invited, and we had fun. Now sis is a grandmother and executive VP for a bank. Guess she’s grown up. Happy birthday, little sister.
74 F now in Ashlandia, where burritos are tasty and fishsticks are frozen, without much breeze. The heat dome has brought us into its embrace. 103 F today, probably 100 plus tomorrow but then we get a reprieve and the highs drop into the nineties next week. Fingers crossed that they’ve called that right. Not nearly as bad as west Texas, Arizona, many parts of California, Nevada, and New Mexico.
Only dropped down to the lower sixties last night. That’s always a problem because it’s harder to cool the house if the air doesn’t cool. Stayed into the eighties until after 11 PM before the heat was finally cranked back. But then it rose fast. That’s how it is in a heat dome.
Thinking about weather took me around to thinking about Earth. Unintentional consequences of that was The Neurons put a song about Earth in my morning mental music stream. Yes, “I Feel the Earth Move” by Carole King (1971) is playing in the morning mental music stream (trademark confused). Odd choice for The Neurons, since the thoughts swirling around were all about the misery today’s headlines encapsulated. Everything from disastrous weather around the world to murders and killings. Death dominated. I suppose The Neurons elected to counteract all that chaos and mayhem with a simple song about being in love.
Stay pos, be cool, be safe, be strong. The coffee is kicking in. Let’s do this. Here’s the music. Cheers
Hey, it’s Fried-day, July 14, 2023. Birthday for one of my late cousins. Years younger than me, cancer claimed her in 2019.
Gonna be hot today here in Ashlandia, where the plays are entertaining and the musicians are local. Not OMG help hot, like AZ’s impressive daily highs, nor Palm Springs 120 F hot, but protect-yourself-family-and-pets hot, 98 F. And that’s why it’s Fried-day.
When I was being educated in the US in the 1960s, attending elementary school, teachers talked about a ‘can-do attitude’. They were always encouraging us to rise up to the challenge and find a way to overcome it. I vividly recall listening to one teacher standing before us rapt, dewy-eyed second-graders as she said, “The can-do attitude helped make America great.” Before we were taught history and learned that the country wasn’t great, that America was flawed. Yet it had to the potential to become greater, if we kept after things with a can-do attitude.
I grew up believing that we can fix things, whether it was injustice, inequality, poverty, or going to the moon. This was in the aftermath of President John F. Kennedy’s assassination. He seemed to empower ‘can-do’ for young me. No, wasn’t perfect, but he was willing to set goals, create a vision, and strive to achieve them.
Now we’re mired in a severe can’t-do existence. Money is typically the ‘can’t-do’ motivation, followed in the US by ‘Founding Fathers’. The Founding Fathers and their vision of a Democracy run by the people, for the people, are thrown up as an obstacle as people stop to think, not what is best by and for the people, but what would the Founding Fathers say and do?
I believe that attitude would have the Founding Fathers appalled. They would ask, “Have you not established a robust education system that helps people? Do you knot know how to think? Do you lack the courage and principles to come together, find solutions and move forward?”
And that’s a big now. Big reason for me, whether it’s about climate change and half the country setting new high records for high temperatures year after year, sensible gun control, or taxes, is that half the country is trying to go backward. Yes, let’s go backwards. Just bury our heads and deny what’s going on.
That shows a true ‘can-do’ spirit.
All of that explains my exasperated mood today.
I woke up with the Looney Tunes theme music in my morning mental music stream. As I went about re-establishing my existence, mocking myself as I fell into my comfortable, middle-class routines once again, The Neurons opened some “Canned Heat” and spilled “Let’s Work Together” into the morning mental music stream (trademark non-existent). The 1970 version of Wilbur Harrison’s take on “Let’s Stick Together” could be an inspiring theme song for promoting a can-do attitude. Feel the energy behind that gravelly voice, courtesy of Bob Hite, as he urges us to work together.
Together we’ll stand Divided we’ll fall Come on now, people Let’s get on the ball
And work together Come on, come on Let’s work together Now, now people Because together we will stand Every boy, every girl and man
People, when things go wrong As they sometimes will And the road you travel It stays all uphill
Let’s work together Come on, come on Let’s work together, ah You know together we will stand Every boy, girl, woman and man
Oh well now, two or three minutes Two or three hours What does it matter now In this life of ours
Let’s work together Come on, come on Let’s work together Now, now people Because together we will stand Every boy, every woman and man
Ah, come on Ah, come on, let’s work together
Well now, make someone happy Make someone smile Let’s all work together And make life worthwhile
Let’s work together Come on, come on Let’s work together Now, now people Because together we will stand Every boy, girl, woman and man
Oh well now, come on you people Walk hand in hand Let’s make this world of ours A good place to stand
You know, we do show the ability to come together. We come together to cheer performers — singers, actors, athletes — to cheer them on. And we come together to cope with disasters. We come together to offer hopes and prayers after mass shootings, floods, wildfires, hurricanes.
Honestly, can’t we begin to find a way to come together before disasters and deaths?
Yeah, I know. It’s all been said before, all been written with more inspiration before, and here we stay, stuck on yesterday, moving toward last century, burning up and and falling down.
Guess I need coffee. Stay pos, if you can, and strong. Wish you the best in whatever situation you face today, tomorrow, next month, next year.
Sunday, July 9, 2023, has landed on us. Fact of the day: the 14th Amendment was adopted on this day in the US back in 1868. Part of the amendment was dealing with reconstruction, black voters, and the Dred Scott decision. Northern Republicans preferred that blacks not be allowed to vote in the structure and demographics established before the Civil War because southern states would have gained substantial power, creating its own set of problems. These southern states just fought a war to leave the union, and their loss was going to be rewarded with more power? No, that didn’t fly. Hence, the 14th Amendment: “All persons born or naturalized in the United States and subject to the jurisdiction thereof, are citizens of the United States and of the State wherein they reside.” And off we went, all fixed, right?
Yeah, it’s been a helluva merry-go-round. There are always groups against others having equal rights under the law. More recently, GOP legislators have led creative ways to make voting a problem for the people who don’t vote for them, citing the US Constitution. It reads, in part, “When in the course of human events, political leaders decide they don’t like what people are reading, or fear that some other race will come to dominate, or don’t like it when people declare themselves to be some other gender or prefer a sexual orientation other than what’s spelled out in the First Amendment of the Bible of the United States, then that party and its political leaders have the right to pretend that in the name of freedom and God, they have the right under said document to restrict others from doing these things because gosh, darn, those things are different than what they grew up with, and they don’t have to take it, and have the right to cry and throw tantrums about anything they don’t like until they’re blue in the face, just like Jesus would do.”
And by using that authority as provided and intended, and wholly in the Founding Fathers’ spirit, that’ll fix everything. Everyone will be happy, and peace will rule, and the United States will be Great Again, #1 in everything in the world, which can be achieved by just pretending that other countries don’t really exist, and if they do, they can’t be as good as America because they’re not America.
Whew, glad that’s all cleared up.
It’s cooling this week. 68 F now, the mercury won’t rise to 90 F today. Fine by me. I enjoy cooler hot summer days. I should be happy, then, because the weather conjurers have proclaimed that our high temps will be in the 80s most of the coming week. Side note: we’ve yet to reach 100 F this year in Ashlandia, where the sidewalks are cracked and the people are pissed off. Hope I haven’t jinxed us by mentioning it.
The Neurons have plugged Elton John’s cover of “Pinball Wizard” by The Who into the morning mental music stream. The Who song came out in 1969, part of the rock opera, or ropera, as we say in these days, called Tommy. I was thirteen, and just loved that song with its story of a blind kid being a pinball champion, a story backed by dramatic guitars, swooping bass lines, and crashing drums. A few years later, a movie was made of the album, Tommy, and Elton John was selected to sing the vocals on “Pinball Wizard”, and Bob’s yer uncle.
Stay pos, keep a sense of humor, and lead us not into temptation. I’ve had coffee, thanks, but do help yourself to some. Here’s the music. Cheers
I’m sitting at my desk at home, sipping hot black coffee. A cool breeze washing over my back through the window. Machine noises are carried in. Sounds like excavating equipment is hard at it in Ashlandia, where wine is made on one side of the valley, and beer is brewed on the other.
It’s a summer morning, Friday, July 7, 2023.
A weary state of mind has overtaken me. Just read about dark waters and the pollution causing cancer to humans and animals. Companies like DuPont do this to communities and fight against taking responsibility, while manipulating laws and lawmakers to make more money, more profits. They epitomize the worse of corporate greed. Unfortunately, they’re one of many. And our hugely right wing Supreme Court goes and guts laws to protect water and people and animals, and the right wing shouts, “Hurray. Freedom.”
That article was atop reading about the proliferation of shootings across the nation on this holiday week. How these murders are enabled by the NRA, with right-wingers heartily going along with it, shouting, “Hurray. Freedom.” Death doesn’t mean much to the pretend ‘pro-life’ party called the GOP.
The GOP party has become the party of minority rule — meaning a rule of one. One person in many GOP led states can complain about a book and have it taken off shelves. One person can take up an automatic weapon and go shoot up a school, a synagogue, church, workplace, neighborhood, resulting in deaths and the ruination of many lives and that party will continue to shout, “Freedom.” They write into laws against others, and shout, “Freedom.”
Naturally, thinking of all of this, my neurons sink back to Janis Joplin’s magnificent cover of the Kris Kristofferson song, “Me & Bobby McKee” from 1970. The lines so many of us remember from the song, the one I was reminded of as we celebrated a nation’s beginning that is supposed to be founded on principles of freedom, democracy, and equality, are, “Freedom’s just another word for nothin’ left to lose. Nothin’ ain’t worth nothin’ but it’s free.”
Stay as positive as you can as we endure this era. Try to look forward to what we can build, and don’t be dissuaded or disheartened by those trying to create something other than a land of freedom and equality for all. Or as it’s written in the Declaration of Independence: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”
The coffee is half gone. The breeze is fading and the heat is rising. 71 F now, it’ll be in the low 90s before the sun slips out of view. Time to take this show on the road. Here’s the music. Cheers
And so the heroes arrived on Monday, July 3, 2023, after their exhausting journey through the treacherous months of May and June, coming at last to fabled Ashlandia, where the heroes are few and the animals are many.
Warm out there, and getting warmer. 94 F today, 97 F tomorrow. Which, for my household probably means 97 F today, 100 F tomorrow. A heat advisory warning us is out.
These are floof days. My cats just find a comfortable sleeping zone and stay there until around seven PM. Tucker has shifted himself to the back patio, by the house, on one corner, where a pleasant cool breeze sweeps by every now and again. Papi, more mysteriously, seeks out bedding under bushes on the house’s northern side, in the fence’s shadow. He’ll move to the front patio in late afternoon. But man, let me tell you, those cats are zonked out for that period. Water bowls are in front and back, ’cause I worry. They’ll partake, but they mostly sleep. Had a dream about them, too, but that’s another subject.
I have the Manfred Mann’s Earth Band cover of Bruce Springsteen’s “Blinded by the Light” (1977) running through the morning mental music stream. The cause was politically-oriented conversation with my spouse about the former POTUS, D.J. Trump. His supporters seem blinded by the light, IMO, unable to see any of DJT’s faults and shortcomings, just stumping for him, ignoring facts as they cheer and cheer. Just a strange sight to see. Of course, interviews with Trump supporters are often shocking, but the interviewer often seeks out the craziest of the crazy, painting a skewed portrait of DJT’s supporter. But, come on, when a man with his multiple marriages, children by various women, known sexist attitude, affairs, and stained business history is idolized as a saint, people will wonder, what happened to the supporters’ neurons? Where have they gone? Will they come back?
Stay positive, handle the weather and help others handle it. Remember to hydrate no matter what the heat or lack of in your locale. Coffee — which isn’t really good for staying hydrating but has such a wonderful smell and taste — ha, I sound blinded by the light, don’t I? — is served. Let’s rock.
If you haven’t heard, the price of a US postage stamp is going up five cents. If you haven’t heard, this is the fourth increase in two years. Pause to speculate about all the factors behind why the price of a stamp might rise. If you haven’t heard about the stamp price increase, speak to my wife. She’s furious about it. If you’re like us, you have gone out and bought a new book of forever stamps, another misnomer if ever heard, 100 of them for $62 plus at Costco.
It’s July 2, 2023. Many folks are preparing for our Independence Day celebration. There are many in the US who might question why they’re celebrating this day, focusing on the politics of now, where rights which were accepted and expected two are being striped away. This is ‘progress’. Sure. We’re only as free as the most limited person in the nation. By that measure, we’re becoming less and less free by the year. It’s not what the founding fathers. They created a baseline to begin. They probably expected growth. They had a vision of freedom and independence for the people, by the people. Now rights are being removed based on ‘original intentions’. George Orwell would be appalled.
It’s National Disco Day in ‘Merica. So I’ve read in some places, where other references call it a holiday in New Zealand and don’t mention the US. I was a rocker, not a dancer. Disco is all about dance. Rock was all ’bout listening. My wife enjoyed disco music and it spread all over electronic media. I never protested it nor complained; it wasn’t for me, but so what? Others like it. I do enjoy it on occasion, especially when I use my lookback lenses to consider my life. Disco was there as part of some fun times. Not my style but I still engaged.
We’re still in a drought here in Ashlandia, where classic rock is often heard and people dance to it like it’s disco. 68 F now, we’re expecting today’s top temp to reach 92 F. Not bad. But, as with yesterday, I think it’ll be a few degrees higher. Yesterday we had 95 here, according to the weather station.
A wildfire started yesterday about fifty miles south of is in NorCal. Lightning strike. So the season begins.
When I typed up the post, it said Sunday’s Them Music. The Neurons took off with music by Them, an Irish rock band begun in the mid 1960s. “Gloria” is playing in the morning mental music stream, so you know that’s what I’m putting up. It was a fun song for young boys to sing as Gloria’s name is spelled out and the band sings the name. Makes you feel alright.
Remain positive, and keep your head above the water. Coffee is here to save me again. Here’s the music. Cheers
It’s Sunday, June 18, 2023. Let’s put this day on our back and run wild. You know, like Trump said that gangs of young people do by the hundreds. Except he said they were running into department stores and stealing refrigerators by strapping them on their backs and running out of the stores. Cities all across the nation. Sure you’ve seen some videos of it on the net or television. I haven’t. Doesn’t seem to be happening in my world.
It’s a chilly 58 F almost summer morning. Gonna be 69 before we’re done with the sun in Ashlandia, where the cats are smart and the drivers are below average. Clouds dominate the blue above like Game of Thrones dominated HBO. Sun is out there, poking and peeking around said clouds but a front tempers the sun’s effects.
Our house floofs are not pleased with this turn. Their exact comments, said in unison, was, “What the hell? Where is the warmth?” They search for it outside and then turn their sights inside, settling down on old familiars like the sofa and bed. They’re miffed but they’re not letting that impede a good nap.
The bears are awake, out, and active, so beware. Mostly going for trash cans, trashing bird feeders — they are especially fond of hummingbird feeders — or trying to open doors to see what’s on the other side.
We’re bemoaning the state of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. They made some unusual moves the last several years. The artistic director resigned this year and OSF is begging us to donate money so that the show can go on. Meanwhile, they uprooted the Tudor Guild a few years ago — said that the landlord raised the rent — and bought and built several properties, and moved their offices to a swanky new locations. The pandemic, wildfires, and smoke affected them — the primary theater is open-air — but they also killed several youth-oriented programs which focused on introducing school children to plays. If it sounds like chaos, that’s how it feels living alongside it.
Today’s song is “Photograph” by Nickelback from 2005. It was inspired by looking at some photos, of course. I’d stumbled across them as I looked for something else. I was surprised that The Neurons brought out this instead of something like “Kodachrome” by Simon or “Photograph” by Ringo. But The Neurons have a mind of their own. The song works as today’s theme music, as it’s all about looking back, reacting and remembering. Photographs of Dad were in there, which was nice serendipity for Father’s Day in America.
Stay pos, and don’t let the weight grind you down. My morning cuppa coffee is over. Time to move it, move it, move it. Here’s the music. Cheers
A small rant, s’il vous plait. A first world thing. First, apologies.
Apologies to the people being denied rights for me being so upset by my ‘plight’. Apologies to women who have lost control over their bodies to male-dominated governments who arrogantly decide what is right and wrong for you because of what they decided their religion tells them, regardless of your religion or circumstances.
My apologies to those dying in wildfires, or fighting wildfires, or enduring the terrible smoke.
Of course, apologies to people still getting COVID, still dying from it, or coping with long COVID.
I’m sorry, everyone having heart attacks and strokes, or dealing with cancer, and other diseases.
Likewise, apologies to everyone still rebuilding after a hurricane or tornado flattened your domicile, or who lost their home, loved ones, and belongings in a flood or other natural disaster.
My abject condolences and sincere apologies to the LGBTQ+ community and the indignities forced upon you by people too ignorant and uncaring to give you sympathy or empathize with your situation, who instead monstrously decide to compound your problems by building bureaucratic walls and persecuting you.
I apologize for those who have governments who think material goods and wealth is more important than health, security, and welfare of their citizens.
Apologies to the victims of racism and sexism, discrimination, and hate crimes.
Apologies to the food insecure, to the homeless, to the murder victims, gun violence victims, and police brutality. Apologies to the abused children, to the mentally ill who can’t find help, to the struggling and working poor, and the refugees around the world. Apologies to the people dying in famines and wars, and apologies to those working multiple jobs just to get by. Apologies to spouses with cheating and abusive partners. Apologies to the desperate and hopeless.
I haven’t covered everyone but I’ve done what I could, apologizing to everyone who has truly serious matters to deal with. That out of the way, you wouldn’t believe how long my Microsoft update took today.
Okay, we’re back. It’s about half past coffee on a T-day morning. June 1, 2023. Looks like we made it. Well done. Give yourself a round of applause.
48 F outside in Ashlandia. Sunrise was 5:37 AM, about when I was scolding Papi in exasperation as he sang about his need to be free, never mind the cougars. A cool morning after a chilly night. Sunny, with clouds like sailing yachts cruising the space between the horizons. No visible snow. Need to walk down the street and look east to the higher els to see that. The thermometer will percolate up to the mid seventies today before the sun show shuts down and moves on to bring us another day.
Big news riding the US headlines is the debt ceiling deal passing the House. Who voted for it, who did not, he said – she said, who are the winners and losers, who lost political capital, who gained it. Reading this, The Neurons scoffed, snorted, chuckled, and dished up Aerosmith from 1974, “Same Old Song and Dance”, into the morning mental music stream for my musical merriment.
Breakfast has been et, coffee is prepared, and the day awaits. First, think I’ll read a bit. Stay pos. Coffee diem. Or sumpin’ like that. Here’s the band and their music. Cheers
He always found himself waiting or planning for the next thing, as if he was trapped in some personal version of “The Jolly Corner”. The next season, the next birthday, the next death.
The next marriage, the next divorce, the next trip, the next vacation..
The next election, the political scandal, the next mass murder.
Next step in finishing a novel, the next novel to write, the next meal, the next task, job, bill, the next expense.
He kept reminding himself, stop. Stay in the moment and enjoy. But the next always kept coming.
Michael Seidel, writer 