Wenzdaz Theme Music

The rain has ceased and it’s warmer.

Hi. Today is December 24, 2025 in Ashlandia. Just one week of 2025 remains.

It’s 45 F right now. Quite pleasant. The fog left for a while. Yesterday, buzzing around town on errands, brought beautiful vista of long silvery gray fog snakes crawling around the hollows and valleys, and scaling the mountainsides. Clouds blocked the sunshine, lending the scenes an intensely dark backdrop.

Writing neurons immediately pictured the fog snakes as sentient creatures crawling through our presence, perhaps stealing pieces of us. Not all fog snakes are the same; some feed on memories. Others fog snakes still physical presence from us. More nibble away emotions or thinking. Where does it go from there? Give me some coffee and let me think.

While it’s 45 F now, the weather forecasters are warning us that temperatures will be dropping.

News headlines bring us tidings of destruction or recovery of destruction in other parts of the world and nation. I was with friends last night, toasting our friendship, talking about the season’s plans and plans for next year, and addressing political issues. All present believed Donald Trump’s strength is ebbing. That aligns with several articles I’ve recently read about Trump’s weakening influence.

Only one recent president has scored an approval rating as bad as Trump’s – himself

President Donald Trump’s job approval rating stands at just 36 percent in the latest Gallup poll, the joint-worst rating of any U.S. president at the end of their first year in power of the last 50 years.

The other man? Himself – at the end of the first year of his first term in December 2017 – when he picked up precisely the same score.

For comparison, his predecessor Joe Biden was at 43 percent at the end of his first year in the Oval Office in December 2021.

Happy Holidays, Donald Trump.

Today’s song, “Here Comes Your Man” by the Pixies, comes by way of dog watching. I was examining the morning through the office window. Sunshine! Blue sky! No fog! A dog walker was coming up the street, big black dog trotting alongside on a leash. Sudden deep wagging broke out on the dog. The woman walking the black pup called out something. A man strode down the street. The dog began joyous leaps. Letting the leash out, I heard the woman say, “Here comes your man.” Man and dog rushed one another and showered the other with affection.

As I smiled and went to turn away, The Neurons plugged “Here Comes Your Man” into the morning mental music stream. It’s a very pop tune sound, very un-Pixie, almost anti-Pixie. The band themselves resisted releasing it because it was so pop to them. But here we are, playing it 37 years later. Life. Technology. Perspective.

Coffee is served. Sun is still shining. Sky remains blue. A decent day may be brewing, at least for an hour or two. Hope peace and grace is on its way. Have the best day possible, today and every day. Cheers

Twozdaz Theme Music

A tight light gray sheet is pulled down over Ashland. Woven of clouds, rain, and fog, it reduces sunlight to graylight. As light rain sings, the temperature hangs at 38 F with a high of 38 F looming. This is Twozda, December 23, 2025.

Thinking of Mom, life, and politics led me into paths of cogitation about how we shape others’ impressions of us. Sometimes our impressions of others actually undermine our ability to see who they are and what they mean. History with them, and disappointments with them, seem to frequently color our greater impressions and reactions. Emotions overtake thinking. Anger sets in and calcifies. Then we limit engagements, refuse to talk to them. Why should we? They’ve proven who they are to us.

Yet, we know that one of the greatest constants of existence is change. Many of us try and succeed to change ourselves for the better. Sometimes we awaken from whatever cocoon held us and realize, “Oh, shit. What did I do?” Then we hunt avenues to fix whatever mess we created.

Not all, I guess. I’ve known some terminally ignorant people who refused to ever admit they were ever wrong, let alone try to fix things. But others saw them for that toxicity and drifted from them until they stood alone, stewing in their rage about how they knew they’re right and everyone else is wrong. I think Trump is deeply into that circle. The thing is, his wealth and power keep extending his life. He’s surrounded himself with enablers. To admit that he’s wrong is to admit they’re wrong. And they’re shying off from that.

Like Trump, like Mom, like me and others I know, underlying our behavior are health challenges. I’m dealing with mine and seem to be rapidly improving. But I know others who are skating downhill, picking up speed, piling up the problems. It’s harder to see those things in others, whether their causes are emotional, neurological, matters with digestion, depression, or the simpler and more insidious problem…getting old. Even when you know ‘what’s wrong with them’ in clear and lucid terms, it’s hard to grasp the many ways that what’s wrong with them interferes with their being, causes them suffering, and makes them seem to lash out. Some people magnify what they’re going through, hungry for attention. Others hide it as deeply as possible, shunning attention and sympathy, disgusted that they might be *gasp* pitied. We’re complicated beings in a complicated world.

I have Fall Out Boy in the morning mental music stream. “Save Rock and Roll” featuring Elton John is the breakfast soundtrack. It hinges on the pins of my reflections and a lyric that goes, “You are what you love, not who loves you.” Not sure how it fits into my morning morass of mingling musings.

Rock and roll never forgets even if peace and grace seem to. Got my coffee. Here we go, into the gray future once again. Cheers

Mundaz Theme Music

34 F today in Ashlandia as winter takes over. My sister told me she likes it when it gets that warm in winter. LOL. It’s Munda, December 22, 2025. Cloudy but they’re light, torn cloud shards. No rain is expected. Fog might crown some parts of town, according to reports, but it’s clear outside my windows. Today’s high might stretch to 50 F.

Our solstice dinner went well, thanks. We picked up frozen garlic Naan to go with our chosen soups. My wife went with cream of mushroom, which she declared with a mild shrug, “It’s okay.” I had a spicy and satisfying vegan chili. Naan went well with it. We complemented the meal with raw carrots, celery, and radishes.

Mom texted me that she’s very busy trying to get cards out to all her great- and grandchildren but she also had an upset stomach. There’s been no talk of war between her and sis, knock wood. Sis’s grandson turned seven so there was a party where the theme was six and seven. The children apparently found that hysterically funny.

My grandnephew prepares to blow out the candle on his birthday cupcake during a bowling party.

I was speaking with a friend I ran into yesterday. Quickly talking about politics, he mentioned how the Trump Regime was causing so much pain to several family members in different areas of the nation. One of them was a MAGA sister who is shocked by her premium increases. I think he said she lives in Arizona but don’t hold me to that. A nephew he mentioned is a liberal and a farmer who was really bleak about next year. I mentioned in response that Trump is the King of pain. That inspired The Neurons to project “King of Pain” by The Police in the afternoon mental music stream. It carried over to the morning mental music stream.

We’re off to do the Food & Friends deliveries. Swish some coffee down my throat first. If peace and grace show up here, I’ll give them a drink and tell them to go see you, yeah? Here we go. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

Happy solstice morning greetings from Ashlandia. It’s 41 F with moderately heavy rain today. The weather systems tell me that’s how it’ll be all day, with the high reaching for 47 F. A ‘white Christmas’ isn’t being dealt to us this year.

Yes, it’s Sunda, and it also happens to be winter solstice north of the equator, December 21, 2025. Down south of zero, they’re celebrating the summer’s arrival.

We’re doing our ‘traditional solstice’ dinner but it’s being winged. Our traditional celebration evolved from previous celebrations we’d cludged together from pagan practices regarding solstice. Building on those, we started having a simple dinner of soup, salad, and bread as part of solstice. It expanded for a while, with others invited in to celebrate with us. COVID broke the tradition. We observed alone for a bit but shifted from it. Partially contributing to that was a sense of weariness my wife and I both felt; just weren’t up to celebrating, given the world’s state and trajectory.

I proposed doing soup and bread for solstice dinner again. But instead of making it all ourselves, we’d visit the Food Co-op and Market of Choice and buy some fresh soup from them.

I read about “King Mida in Reverse” in blog comments the other day. I haven’t heard nor thought of the song in years. Think I heard it on Sirus XM while driving on a long trip back before BCP – Before COVID Pandemic.

The commenter was saying this song, by the Hollies, perfectly describes the Trump effect. He’s a destructive force masked as something else. Trump will advance, mostly through luck, lying, evading responsibility, and cheating, but whatever he touches is the worse for it. Look how he destroyed so many businesses and yet enriched himself. Now he’s doing it on a gigantic scale, destroying the moral fabric, government structure, and checks and balances of the United States. Meanwhile, he’s turning us, We the People, against each other based on race and politics, cratering the economy, and making us sicker via terrible health care decisions. Yes, PINO Trump is most definitely King Midas in reverse. That’s why he throws gold on everything in a desperate effort to change the optics on what he’s doing. But the results of dropping approval ratings, rising disapproval rating in all areas, increasing unemployment, decreasing employment, and diminishing affordability speaks for itself. Dizzy Donny is failing, flailing, and fading.

Unfortunately for the U.S.A., Trump has turned over governing to Russell Vought for domestic affairs, Stephen Miller for domestic security, and Pete Hegseth and Marcos Rubio for diplomacy and foreign policy. Except for Rubio, these are individuals We the People don’t trust with the keys to a car, let alone running the nation. But that’s where we are, thanks to PINO Trump.

Lyrics

~snip~

I’m not the guy to run with
’cause I’ll throw you off the line
I’ll break you and destroy you
Given time

He’s King Midas with a curse
He’s King Midas in reverse
He’s King Midas with a curse
He’s King Midas in reverse

It’s plain to see it’s hopeless
Going on the way we are
So even though I’d lose you
You’d be better off by far

He’s not the man to hold your trust
Everything he touches turns to dust
In his hands
Nothing he can do is right
He’d even like to sleep at night
But he can’t

All he touches turns to dust

All he touches turns to dust

All he touches turns to dust

All he touches turns to dust

~snip~

h/t to AZLyrics.com

Time to chug some coffee and crank the energy motor up. Hope peace and grace sneaks out of hiding to give you a hug. Here we go. Happy solstice. Cheers

Fridaz Theme Music

Raining, it’s pouring, the old floof is snoring. Rain with warmer temperatures continue to dominate Ashlandia and its environs today. Now at 51, it feels positively almost just about balmy outside. High of 53 F is on the table. This is better than the freezing fog, which at least was non-destructive. Up north in Oregon and Washington, pounding rain has led to avalanches and mudslides, destroyed highways and bridges, and flooded towns and neighborhoods. Levees were breached and rivers overflowed. Terrible situation, with emerging stories that sicken the soul.

I read several more ridiculous pieces of Trumpaganda. Like this one. He handpicked a board of bootlickers to set on the board at the Kennedy Center. Prodded by him, they then did him the ‘honor’ of adding his name to the Kennedy Center for Performing Arts. This is another dunce move, like his other ones:

  • Destroying the East Wing.
  • Trying to arbitrarily rename the Gulf of Mexico.
  • Arbitrarily and illegally renaming the Department of Defense.
  • Paving over and wiping out the famous Rose Garden.
  • Childishly defacing former Presidents Biden and Obama’s displays in the house of We the People.
  • Accepting bribes and trashing alliances and agreements.

Trump will have so many nicknames after he’s gone. Trump the Destroyer. Trump the Fool. Trump the Barbarian. Trump the Greedy. Trump the Selfish. Trump the Tasteless. Trump the Low Class. Trump the Liar. Trump the Most Corrupt. Trump the Felon. Trump the Mango Tosser. And of course, TACO, Dizzy Donny, Dozy Donnie, Deceitful Donny, Duplicitous Donny, along with the classic, Don the Con. All those will be on the list with his final epitaph, Worst President in United States history.

In honor of Trump, The Neurons are treating me to some Sweet in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons nabbed me noodling around the destructive Trump news and brought out “The Ballroom Blitz” from 1973.

Time to swallow some coffee and get out there and get blitzed or be blitzed or something. Hope peace and grace get out of bed and give us a sign of life. Tell then, peace out. Cheers

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.

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

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

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

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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