Sundaz Theme Music
It’s a chilly Ashlandia AM. Cool 71 degrees F in the house. After looking out, I ask Alexa for the air quality. “Air quality is unhealthy.” Yes, that’s what I thought. Research shows a fire to the west is threading smoke into our end of the valley. 66 F now, it’s supposed to reach 82 F. That’s doubtful with smoke diluting the sunshine. This is September’s final Sunda, 9/28/2025.
Trump has called for the release of any government docs about Amelia Earhart. What a flailing, desperate effort to distract. His other distractions include ‘sending troops to war-ravaged Portland, Oregon’. Portland is not anything like a war zone, and Portlanders are having fun mocking Trump’s idea of what a war zone is
Portlanders Mock Trump With Pictures, Videos from ‘War-Ravaged’ City
All this because Trump’s mental capacity, never great, is flickering like a candle at the end of its wick, and he’s desperate to make himself the all-knowing, all-powerful, king of the United States. Most Americans don’t want a king, and that number is growing as TACO’s scowls and tyrant tendencies increase. A USAToday opinion headline makes the proclamation that many of us have already been saying:
Anyone with courage has to acknowledge Trump isn’t well. And he’s getting worse.
Most of us already know, too, that Republicans lack courage in this era. That’s a big reason for this TACO 47 mess.
Today’s theme music comes from a FB post. The post is below. The American Patriot is wearing a pro-America, anti-Trump tee. A sign in his grasp has the lyrics to “Get Together” on a sign, with a spin. Reading that, automatically kicked The Neurons into playing the Youngbloods’ 1967 cover of the Chet Powers song, which became a hit for them in 1969, and again in 1969.
Of course, many want Trump to resign or go away. Barring that, we want the Epstein files released, because Trump keeps throwing tantrums against that happening.
Coffee has arrived to resuscitate The Neurons. Hope peace and grace peaks out and doesn’t see its shadow. Otherwise, it’s another three months of Trump. Okay, here we go. Cheers
Thursday Trifles
- Yes, I’m watching what’s happening 280 miles up the road in Portland and the Feds in there under Trump’s orders. Yes, I’m angry. Yes, I’m proud of Portland’s citizens and Oregonians pushing back. Bottom line for Trump: I believe it’s another ego play for him, but I also think he’s trying to energize his campaign and drive headlines away from the mounting COVID-19 deaths. I also think it’s a poor strategy for him. We’ll know in November.
- Went shopping at Trader Joe’s and Costco today during elderly hours. All were masked and polite but the stores were pretty lean with customers on this warm summer Thursday. Yeah, I’m not complaining. Our bills startled me: $142 and $195, all food and staples. Then again, that’s most of the groc shop for the month. We’re saving half our monthly income because we don’t go anywhere. Small blessings, right? I’ll take them.
- We’ve reached our summer temps. A gentle rhythm has begun. Temps stat in the low nineties and slowly rise to 100, then drop to the low nineties again; repeat. This goes on for five to seven days. It cools to high fifties to seventy at night. We throw the windows and doors open, chill the house overnight, then seal the house the next morning. The office is the warmest room, so we run a small fan in there. We’ve yet to run the air con, knock wood.
- Our house floofs are loving the weather. Sleep all day in a comfy place, come in for dinner, then patrol the darkness, kibbling through the night.
- Unfortunately, with the summer weather come lightning strikes in the mountains and wildfires. We get smoky air and worries. Ten fires were covered in the news. We have organizations and well-trained people to deal with it, for which I’m grateful. We stay concerned about them and their health and safety. Talk about some brave, essential people. I put them on that list.
- Got my coffee. You know what that means. One-handed typing is slow going, but I think my muses are flourishing with the slowdown. I’m enjoying the slow train, too, and how my pace lets more unfold. Okay, onward: I’m going to go write like crazy, at least one more time, but slowly.
Had a rona moment, calling today Tuesday when it’s Saturday. I mean, Thunesday. Whatever.
The Portland Dream
After a period of turbulent dreams at the end of 2018 and 2019’s start, my dreams have become amazingly affirming and uplifting. There’s not much to write about. Besides their positive aspects, they’re clear and unambiguous, except for one dream.
In this dream, I’m busy with my normal life when a voice tells me to go to Portland to buy a car. I know that they mean Portland, Oregon, two hundred eighty-six miles away. I respond, “Why?” The disembodied voice from up high explains that I can get better deals there, and then shows me five cars that it thinks I’d like. I’m amused, but check out the cars, and agree, yes, I’d like them and they’re great buys, but what about maintenance. I don’t want to do drive a long way for maintenance.
Persistence and persuasive, the voice keeps trying to convince me that I need to go to Portland to buy a car. I finally agree, mainly just to get it to leave me alone. We part amicably, with me going off to tell my wife that we’re going to Portland to buy a car.
As for the dream’s meaning, I have few clues. Something I’ll need to think about. As I think about it to type, it seems to indicate a large shift in directions, something unexpected, that pleases me.
Michael Seidel, writer 