Tag: pop

Thirstdaz Theme Music

Looked out the window and what did I see? Weak, uneven sunshine, blue sky patches, thick towels of scattered white clouds. I also saw the far-ish mountains with their thick evergreen coats. Sunshine and shadows spangled them in different verdant hues. Sunshine sneaks through the windows and darts away. It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been able to look across and see the tops of the trees on the top of this low mountain because of the weather, and I missed that scene. This is Thirstda, December 18, 2025.

Two friends lost family members this week. Both lost members were sisters and both passed after prolonged cancer struggles. So, a moment of thought for each of them. The holidays are stressful enough for people without the added weight of a family member passing. Although in one case at least, the family was relieved because they hated how their sister/mother/aunt/grandmother was suffering.

Thinking of sisters inspired The Neurons. I’ve been doing many text exchanges with my second-oldest ‘little sister’. She’s the one who volunteered her home and family to take care of Mom. Taking care of anyone is a challenge but Mom at 90 can be a test for your nerves and patience. The two are again at peace, and I hope that lasts. Of course, Mom is going through a chunk of stuff with her health, age, and the loss of her longtime live-in boyfriend, Frank. Frank was a giving and caring steward for her, and though his feet were small, those are big shoes to fill. Add to that, the natural stresses brought on by winter storms and the holiday season, and it gets to be a very heavy load.

So, the Neurons filled the morning mental music stream with Stevie Ray Vaughn and Double Trouble playing their cover of Hank Ballard’s song, “Look at Little Sister”. I have three younger sisters. I regularly text with them. All are mothers, two are grandmothers, two are tremendously fit, and two are very successful. All are a treasure to me. My fourth sister is the single sibling older than moi. She and I get along well but don’t exchange many texts. Still working, she’s engrossed with her children and grandchildren.

Coffee is treating my cells to some wake up energy. Hope peace and grace come out of their hole and don’t see their shadow.

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

Greetings to my fellow humans and coffee ants. It’s Wenzda! Humpda! December 17 2025.

Ashlandians find ourselves in warmer weather with less fog. We’re hanging at about 40 degrees F. Light gray clouds with low bellies soldier past sunlit dark green evergreens. The clouds tear and break as they meet the trees. Another slice of sky features darker clouds mingling with bright blue sky. All shines with a rainy sheen, waiting to dry off. Today’s high will strike 47 F, ‘they’ say. We’re unsure they’ll be correct.

Slop is the word of the year. Hard to argue with that. In this information age, disinformation sown and furthered by AI’s efforts to entertain and uneducate the masses while undermining political will and decision-making owns many media outlets and social platforms.

Some of this is deliberately done. Feeling down? Go shopping! Look at these deals!

Not into shopping? Tune into NASCAR. NBA, NFL, college football, college basketball, hockey, volleyball, oh, boy the Olympics are coming! The world cup!

Eat our new food! Buy our new stuff! Watch our new show! Enjoy our new movie! Don’t like them, then watch the old movies, the old sitcoms, the old dramas, and remember how it used to be. Don’t think. Just sit back and relax. Let us take care of you.

What a way to end the year, mired in slop, wondering WTF is going to happen next year. Will the U.S. wage open war on Venezuela or go all in with Russia against the Ukraine? Trump is all for that. War for peace. “We can only win peace if we’re strong enough to fight for it,” he’ll snarl. And enough Americans are simple enough to eagerly nod agreement. We got all that military power. Shame not to use it, right?

Thinking about slop as the word of the year has The Neurons laughing. “Slop is the word is the word that you heard. It’s got groove, it’s got meaning. Slop is the time, is the place, is the motion. Slop is the way we are feeling.”

The Neurons might be on to something this time.

Anyway, they slotted “Grease” as sung by Frankie Valli in the movie, Grease, in the morning mental music stream. Except we’re singing ‘slop’ instead of ‘grease’.

Okay, coffee is greasing me up. Hope peace and grace break through the slop and make a cameo sometime in 2025’s final days. Here we go again. Cheers

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Twozdaz Theme Music

Twozda, December 16, 2025, has settled on Ashlandia. And it’s brought fog again. Like, hey, thanks for the gift, but we’re full up on fog. More sunshine or light rain would be welcomed. A hard rain came yesterday for a few hours. Welcome change to the fog and the month’s first precipitation. On the sunny side of weather information, the various systems are aligned regarding the temperature and current weather, agreeing across the board that it’s foggy and 50 F. I provided feedback to Alexa and several online weather sites this week that they were getting our weather wrong. Like one day is a fluke, two days is a coincidence but three days is messed up. Not saying that I did it, but I do believe others are like me out there and told the systems, hey, you’re getting our weather wrong.

Mom and sis have reached detente again. Mom’s was probably accidental. Sis admitted, Mom is probably experiencing dementia. Sis has backed off from moving Mom back to her house. Sis acknowledges that she’ll probably need to continue provide food, shelter, and assistance for me. Sis has rejected the idea of having Mom declared incompetent and moved to a home of some kind at this point, as that requires an effort she’s not willing to put out. I don’t blame her. So much of this falls on her as she’s there and the other sisters have checked out, and I’m across the country. Sis and I do a lot of texting. I try to be as supportive as possible and keep my criticisms and disagreement low key and gentle. I think she appreciates and enjoys that outlet and that’s the best I can do at this point.

Movement against Trump seems to be rising. People are saying, enough. Some of them are even Republicans. Hope that continues growing. His affordability tour is flailing, I’ve read. He goes off script into familiar rants, which are now wearing thin. Attendance is poor. Doesn’t help that Deceiving Donny keeps talking about how prices are coming down, or that affordability is a hoax. Too many are hurting from the truth. Food and energy prices are not done as Deceitful Donny keeps boasting.

The machine behind Death Donny is grinding on, though, dragging down everything known as the United States for the last century except the name and the flag. Wouldn’t put it past Trump and his regime, though, for him to announce that they’re changing the flag and dropping the stars for blue states. Just the dimwitted, smirking, asinine behavior that they consistently show, crowing about how they love the nation, how patriotic they are, how they’re doing things in the name of saving the nation or keep it secure. It’s all garbage talk, and polls show people aren’t buying it much these days.

I have Little Feat playing “Dixie Chicken” in the morning mental music stream. Yes, that’s wholly derived from a dream line where someone said, “Do you have brain fog?” Thinking about that question and the events surrounding the dream, The Neurons began playing the 1973 song for me. Strange, but most of the rest of the dream was about me trying to shoot a woman. I was being coerced to do it and didn’t like it at all.

That’s it for the morning summary. Hope and grace come by and give you a hug and a kiss. Coffee and I are having a visit. Happy holidays to you. Time to busta move. 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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Satyrdaz Theme Music

8 AM. Satyrda, December 13, 2025. I put the green bag out for collection. Frowned in dismal frustration. The fog was back.

Fog has been sitting on us like a cat who decides you’re their favorite napping spot. Except a cat is usually pretty warm. This fog is not. It’s been days of cold, lingering fog. Entire week except yesterday afternoon.

Yesterday afternoon brought us a break. The fog pulled back. Sunshine spilled in. Temperatures jumped into the forties. Yes, I said to myself. The fog is gone. I figured it was probably a premature celebration but hoped I was wrong. I wasn’t wrong. It was premature, with the fog back with the same intensity this morning that it displayed on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday…

Back in the house, I asked Alexa about the weather. “Forty degrees and clear,” she said.

I checked my system. 29 degrees F. Looked out the window.

“Why do you ask Alexa every morning when you always think she’s wrong?” my wife asked.

It was a reasonable question. I’d asked myself the same. “I want to know how wrong it is,” I said.

Going online, I checked Southern Oregon University’s weather station down on The Farm. It also said 29 F. But online national systems were telling me, no, it’s 40 F. One even claims it’s 50 F and sunny. Such a disparity.

A Facebook memory reminds me that ten years ago, we were dealing with heavy snow on this date. This has been a terribly dry but cold December so far.

The neighbor’s yard on the left of my yard, ten years ago.

While looking out the window today, I thought, I don’t think the sun’s coming out today. Of course, that’s an irrational thought. The sun was out there, as it always is as we spin and race through space. Just that fog was preventing it from reaching us in the strong and meaningful ways that I prefer.

The Neurons caught my thoughts. They’re always spying on me, so I wasn’t surprised. They responded with “Change” by Blind Melon in the morning mental music stream. No doubt, the first line influenced them: “I don’t feel the sun’s comin’ out today.” Beyond weather and the sun, I find the song a thoughtful reflection about feeling disenchanted and challenging yourself about what you’re going to do about it.

Coffee has come to save me again in what little ways it can. Hope peace and grace come by your place for a bit. Here we go, one more time. Cheers

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Fridaz Theme Music

Good morning from Ashlandia. It’s foggy today, Frida, December 12, 2025. Think I’ll return to bed. Sleep it out until the fog is gone.

I brew about that while I make my morning brew. What aggrieves me a lot about this is that Alexa is oblivious to the fact. It tells me, “It’s 41 degrees with clear skies in Ashland. Today’s high will be fifty blah blah blah.”

I stopped listening to it. My system says its 31 F. My eyes tell me it’s foggy. No sunshine, no sunshine. Alexa is wrong with the weather today just as she was wrong yesterday and the day before. I don’t think Alexa provided correct weather on any day this week. I don’t know if this is a symptom of Alexa’s failings or a failure caused by the National Weather Service. I further don’t know if the NWS failure was caused by Trump’s DOGE cuts or something else.

Fog socked us in all day yesterday. It’s a freezin’ fog sort, clinging to your exposed skin like it’s trying to suck your warmth out of you. Sort of like some sort of horror movie critter. What’s also interesting about being enclosed in heavy fog for days on end is that we used to get NWS warnings issued for that condition. We were getting them last week. We received none this week.

Photo of downtown Ashland, Oregon, taken in the afternoon, 12/11/2025.

The Trump Regime has successfully created a fog of confusion, distrust, and uncertainty. It’s not just in the areas of the weather and weather warnings, either.

Today’s song is by The Dave Matthews Band. My wife uses the expression, “What would you (say or do) if I told you (something about something).” She was using it yesterday. Paying attention to that, The Neurons brought the song, “What Would You Say” into the morning mental music stream.

The jaunty 1994 song features some interesting lines, such as, “Don’t drop the big one.” A song for our times. Fun video to watch, as the band invests strong energy and passion into their music.

Headlines tell me that Trump pardoned Tina Peters for her election theft efforts. He’s loyal to the lawless. Her pardon does nothing for her because he’s Fed and she’s incarcerated under state law. IEarlier this week, Trump was threatening the International Criminal Court not to go after him or any of his cabinet members for the murders and other crimes they’ve done, just as Putin would warn. Trump also tried bullying Indiana into gerrymandering their districts to save his rear against losing more seats. The Indiana GOP turned him down.

Trumpy Dumpty is also on a tour to convince everyone that he and the GOP are successfully making everything affordable again even if affordability is just a hoax and Trump says it’s not his fault, anyway, it’s all because of Trump’s favorite scapegoat, President Biden, even though…Trump used to campaign on stopping inflation and making everything better on Day 1. Heather Cox Richardson provides a lucid summary in her December 11, 2025 post.

That Trump’s boasting, cajoling, and bullying has a desperate frenzy urgency can’t be denied. He’s losing the plot and he’s losing popularity. Democrats are pretty firmly against him. The young are turning against him, as are Latinos and Independents. Soon, all that will remain will be white Republicans. And when they realize how unpopular, unsuccessful, and unintelligible he is, they, too, will quietly walk away.

Got my coffee. Think I’ll add a little peace and grace to it. Hope you have some peace and grace in your Frida. Here we go. Cheers

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Thirstdaz Theme Music

It looks like we might have some fog today in Foglandia. It’s Thirstda, December 11, 2025. The fog landed on us yesterday morning and has not abated. My friend came out of meeting last night and said, “Wow, this is Jack the Ripper kind of fog.” Our forecast for today, given yesterday morning, promised sunshine and a possible record high in the low to mid-sixties. That was yesterday. Now we’re mumbling about maybe hitting 50 F. It’s 37 F now. The claims made yesterday for today have been shifted to tomorrow. Feels like a con game. Wonder how much of Trump DOGE cuts cause the diminishing weather forecast accuracy?

Another night of intriguing dreams featuring cars, women, and building had me wondering about stuff this morning. Traversing the assimilating and understanding functions of parsing the dreams inspired Les Neurons. “Clocks” by Coldplay floated into the morning mental music stream. The song’s lyrics go, “Confusion never stops. Closing walls and ticking clocks. Gonna come back and take you home. I could not stop that you now know, singing.” Which pretty well reflected part of one remembered dream sequence. Actually, minus the clocks. It was but the sentiment of confusion.

Speaking of the sentiment of confusion, have you heard Deceiving Donny’s recent speeches? Yes, he’s a rambling vocal trainwreck. Naturally, MAGA reactions are, “But Biden.” Always looking to the past, they are, always hunting for an escape route to avoid facing reality. Read a piece which tickled me from MPS, Case Study: In Your Guts, You Know He’s Nuts.

Yes, we know he’s nuts. So does AI as it reviews some sample shitalk outta the great mango babbler. Trump’s probably the greatest babbler the world has ever known. He can babble like no babbler has ever babbled before. People listening to him often remark, “What an amazing babbler. What a stunning babbler.” After listening to Dizzy Donny’s babbling, people often march up, shake his hand, and say, “Sir, that was the most beautiful babbling I’ve heard the pleasure of hearing.” One man said he told Trumpy Dumpty, “In my two hundred fifty years of life, I’ve never heard greater babble coming out of anybody like this before, let alone the President of the United States. What babble! Amazing babble! BEAUTIFUL BABBLE!!!”

I was with friends having a beer and talking last night. One related the death of his brothers. One older, one younger. Both being treated. One was denied Oregon’s “Death with dignity” to pursue assisted suicide because he was being treated and following a course of stuff supposed to fight the disease, etc. But the side effect of said treatment were blood clots which caused strokes, diminishing his capacity to speak, move, breathe, etc. Sickening and exasperating.

On that note, time to rev up the life engine and plunge into my daily routines. Which mostly circulates around going out and writing. Writing is going well but consumes so much life band. My wife is tremendously accommodating of my efforts. She deserves several prizes. Hope I can reward her faith and support with success someday. Meanwhile, onward. Cheers

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Wenzdaz Theme Music

Time to crank up another Wenzda. December 10, 2025 in Ashlandia began with sunshine and blue skies. I blinked and suddenly fog is smashing its gray face against the window panes. 45 F now, a jump the high fifties has been projected.

Today’s music is torn straight from the headlines. Not really. It’s more of a reflection on the many people experiencing cruelty and heartlessness under the Trump Regime. When this song was released in 1973, it was a protest against police violence and a police murder of a young Black boy in NYC. Now, “Doo Doo Doo Doo (Heartbreaker)” by the Rolling Stones was brought up by Der Neurons to the morning mental music stream in response to general news as ICE heartlessly chases and attacks people on behalf of Trump’s growing intention to make the United States whiter.

I’d like to tear that Trump world apart. I think there’s growing number of people with that same sentiment.

Alright, coffee jumpstarted the brain and various other organs. Hope peace and grace come give you a big hug. Here we go, world, another rotation. Cheers

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Twozdaz Theme Music

Read about Chicago’s weather this morning. I felt much better about our weather today, Twozda, December 9, 2025. 44 F now, sunshine has bullied the clouds and fog aside for the moment, graciously giving us a blue sky and the chance of a temperature in the upper fifties. Rain is lurking.

A tense truce has settled between Mom and the family. Mom is ignoring everyone and plotting her own destiny. Sis is polite and helpful but gives Mom her space. Text message volume has dropped from “Trump midnight anger ranting” levels to a more sedate “checking in” scale. Nothing is resolved. More a matter of water seeking its level, you know, adjustments being made. Mom tried different avenues to get returned to her home. This ‘quiet plotting time’ is familiar to all of us. It’s now wait and see what emerges from it. We think it’s best to let Mom talk to those agencies. If one comes to visit her, perhaps they’ll recognize her state and commence proceedings. The sisters on the scene don’t want anything to do with that. I’m considering flying back to address it but the magnitude of the task is major bigly.

Today’s song choice is fresh from the dream review. “One” by U2 begins, “Is it getting better or do you feel the same?” Although the dream said nothing about Mom and her situation, thoughts of her situation flooded my dream meditation process. Then, surprise, The Neurons caught on to my thinking and pushed the song into the morning mental music stream to play and ferment. I found this video interesting because it’s not an effort to duplicate the studio sound. The lyrics and delivery end up much different.

Here’s a headline that seized my attention this morning.

Trump admin is ‘trying to put out a fire they started’ at Weather Service as a cold, snowy winter looms

Gosh, I wonder if anyone saw the possibility that the manic cuts Trump made through DOGE was gonna have negative repercussions on the nation’s services, including weather forecasting?

Well, of course, most of us on the left shouted, “Look out, what is wrong with you,” when this happened. We’ve seen this scenario play out time and again during Trump 2 (now with less brain cells!). They fire everyone. Realize they made a mistake and broke a system or need those people. Scramble to find those people and bring them back to fix that system. What maroons.

Another trend was one my wife brought up.

Why Gen Z is flocking to SEC universities

SEC universities are sixteen institutions located primarily in the south. Outliers are Tennessee and Oklahoma. Several are in Texas.

Why are they going there? Short answer: warmer weather, lower tuition, more fun. Longer answer: student loans and lifelong student debt.

Another interesting headline reminds us that the Epstein files still exist.

Judge grants DOJ request to unseal Ghislaine Maxwell records

In ordering the files released in accordance with the Epstein Files Transparency Act, U.S. District Judge Paul Engelmayer noted that almost all of it was already public record and chastised DOJ for misleading people about the Maxwell files’ content.

~snip~

“As the Court chronicled in denying DOJ’s motion, the motion itself misled victims —and the public at large — in holding out the Maxwell grand jury materials as essential to the goal of ‘transparency to the American public,’ when in fact the grand jury materials would not add to public knowledge,” he wrote in Tuesday’s order.  

~snip~

Coffee is awakening the body systems for another go around. Hope peace and grace find and hold you sooner or later. Here we go, one more time. “Let’s be careful out there.” Cheers

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Mundaz Theme Music

Sunshine is making its way. Yesterday’s prevailing gray has been subdued. Temperatures from 46 to 57 degrees F, now and later. It’ll be cloudy. Rain could slip in. So could fog. We’ll see what we see for today, Munda, December 8, 2025. At least it has a less wintry feel to it. Yeah, I know how much I whine. Other places are digging out of snow, dealing with slush and ice. Here I sit, the prince on his cushion, upset about a pea.

Haven’t done this song in a while. “You May Be Right” is a fave for me. Like the words, their sentiments, the beat, and Billy Joel’s delivery. It’s a ripped from life sort of song. That’s what brought it here today. Mom and sisters are now in open war. One sister said she won’t have naught to do with Mom. Sis, the primary caretaker, said she will no longer speak to Mom or help her. Third sister said she is also not speaking to Mom because Mom is not listening and is shouting at everyone. Exhausting a thousand miles away plus.

Mom wants to return to ‘her house’. Her house has been cleaned out of food. Slowly stripped of stuff to make it saleable, an effort begun back in October. Sis and the others are saying, “Let her go if that’s what she wants.” I tried to make peace. Tried to explain how it didn’t work for Mom in October when Frank was hospitalized and it won’t work now. Sis and the others have moved past caring, they say. Mom has alienated everyone in the house. Sigh.

Tried to explain to Mom why it won’t work for her to return to her place. Mom’s response was, well, startling in its unmoored style. She told me that my sister had gotten to me. Went into something about how that was because she’d been in and out of a wheelchair back in October but now they’re keeping her in a wheelchair so her back and legs are week. Like, what? Mom finished, “I’m going to get out of here, one way or another.”

Frequently in the conversations and texts about the situation, I end up saying, “You may be right.” After observing me thinking it so often, The Neurons decided that I needed the song and cranked it up in the morning mental music stream. Although I often look for recordings of live performances, I enjoy the original video for this song, so here it is.

In reflection about Mom and sis, etc., I had doubts about that arrangement working. Mom is hardheaded; sis inherited that from her. Mom also have several other skills, like being overdramatic and the ability to push others’ buttons. Sis and Mom have history. Nonetheless, I was hopeful. This option was also the only one Mom agreed to. I think all concerned dreamed of a different outcome. Of course, we can’t say how much drug, pain, aging, stress, emotions, etc., is dictating this course. I’ve seen other families endure it with grit teeth and heavy sighs. Now it’s our family’s turn. I don’t have hopes for any sort of quick, easy, or happy outcomes. One of them is texting me right now so I must go see what the latest is.

Need I say, we all miss Frank for his patience, support, and endurance?

Hope peace and grace finds and holds you. I’ve had a couple slugs of coffee. Think I’ll have a few more. Here we go. Cheers

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