Tag: problems

A Car & Its Driver

I paced the room, waiting for word about my wife’s 2003 Ford Focus. The car was recently stopping on its own, unsafe and inconvenient.

I resisted thinking it was a battery at first. The car cranked up and fired without any issues but then died.

My wife didn’t think it was a battery. “It starts up. Nothing dims, and it doesn’t have that weak, sluggish sound when it starts.”

I agreed in principle. I checked the battery, confirming, no loose wires or cables, intact and clean. A date on the battery’s side, 05 20, surprised me.

Telling my spouse about it, I added, “I didn’t think the battery was that old.”

We reminisced about buying it. Delivering Food & Friends alone because the COVID pandemic was underway, her car died enroute. She called me to rescue her, which I gleefully did to escape the house.

I reminded her, recent ‘high-discharge’ batteries don’t show the same dying battery symptoms we grew up seeing. Then I recalled, it was cold when the car died on her a couple times this week. Cold affects how much energy batteries can deliver.

I decided, checking the battery was where to begin. An appointment at Les Schwab, a mile away, was made for 10 AM this morning.

I started the Focus without any issue; it died five seconds later. I started it again. Death came five seconds later.

Three times was a charm, but I worried about the car dying as I drove to the appointment.

The Les Schwab tech confirmed, bad battery. “One cell is completely dead,” he said.

That fit, to me. A couple hundred dollars later, we believe we have the problem solved.

Whether the problem is truly solved won’t be clear until the car has been driven normally a few times. I have high confidence it’s fixed, though.

But — knock on wood.

Just in case.

0

Wenzdaz Wandering Thoughts

A new problem arrived at our house.

My wife’s car died on her the other day. Absolutely no power — lights, radio, engine, etc., a very disconcerting event. Fortunately, she was in a parking lot and easily steered to a safe place. It started right back up, but you can imagine the alarm a car dying without warning can give you.

A 2003 Ford Focus purchased new, 110,000 miles are on the car’s odometer. It’s been garaged for all of its life and pretty well maintained. She only uses it for local buzzing around, usually driving just three miles in any direction. Once a month, she might go further, up to twelve miles away.

Now, though, she’s working on a project that requires her to meet with others, pick up things, all that. The big event is Feb. 1. She’s been working on it for months, pulling it together.

I’ve been trying to convince her to trade in the Focus for new wheels for years. In fact, when we bought our CX-5 over ten years ago, it was supposed to be her car to drive. We would then purchase a second car for me and trade in the Focus. She reneged on the agreement and kept her car.

I told her to take the Mazda but, she doesn’t want to drive it, having driven it once since we bought it.

So, it’s a drop everything, change my schedule day to get this resolved. I drove her to her appointments and local garage will check it tomorrow. I have my suspicions about the cause, but we’ll wait for the experts.

2

Short-sighted Solutions, Complex Problems

Drew Magery lashed out on SF Gate with an arresting piece, “JD Vance is a piece of s—t”. Magery critiqued how Vance carries on the Trump practice of bending reality and spreading misinformation.

Magery’s anger is contagious, and it hardens my own frustration with what’s happening in the United States. Examining the stack of events, it seems clear that Trump uses diversions from issues like the Epstein files to maintain his base support.

To his supporters, Trump offers solutions such as capping interest rates or creating home-buying schemes. These measures address symptoms and energize a base that distrusts banks, viewing them as elitist institutions.

Yet these proposals don’t address the root causes. Low wages and the reliance on credit to cover essentials push prices up via supply and demand. Credit card debt is a symptom of the U.S.’s market-oriented economy; a simple cap might make splashy headlines, but it won’t fix it.

Likewise, Trump’s attempts to encourage homeownership are unlikely to succeed. Housing supply is limited, and that limitation stems from a complex mix of zoning, construction, labor, and infrastructure issues. Increasing mortgage availability without addressing supply may even drive prices higher, as more buyers compete for the same homes.

The situation is worsened by climate change. Extreme weather, wildfires, and prolonged drought threaten housing stability and supply across the country. Yet Trump and the GOP consistently deny climate science and oppose measures to mitigate its effects.

Returning to Magery’s critique of JD Vance, the Trump Administration’s approach is to deny facts and evade responsibility, especially when policies produce negative outcomes.

That, to me, is the nub of the problem. Trump, the GOP, and their base want quick, easy solutions to systemic problems rooted in culture and structure. Real solutions require hard work, difficult choices, and confronting uncomfortable truths — none of which will happen if people continue to ignore facts.

MAGA is fundamentally about nostalgia — “Making America Great Again.” The movement promises a return to a simpler time but refuses to confront the long-term, structural problems which actually determine outcomes. They prefer finding easy targets as scapegoats.

This creates a cycle of frustration and illusion. So long as this pattern continues, the solutions pursued will recede further from reach. Military action won’t help. Greater attacks on immigrants won’t help. Crackdowns on protestors and freedom of speech won’t help. Nor will increased polarization and divisiveness.

If this cycle continues, I wonder, when will Trump’s base accept reality, roll up their sleeves, and go to work on the hard solutions?

Judging from what I read on sites crowing about Trump’s ideas and victories, many years will stack up before that happens.

2

I Might Just Be Okay

When I say I’m alright

I might just be okay

But there could be such a heavy load

That it takes too much to say

You can look for clues in my face

These things usually leave a trace

But what’s going on in my inner space

Is really not in play

I need time to process

To evolve an understanding

Of where I’m at and who I am

After this last round of changes

So when I say I’m alright

I might just be okay

Then okay, I could be miserable

I just don’t want to say

6

Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

Some days, shit is happening, and all you can do is pretend to pursue the normal aspects of being. For one, war is hettin’ up in the Middle East or whatever you want to call it. It’s been a war zone for years. It’s usually a matter of who is going to strike back, how, and when. There will be violence, death, and destruction. The Middle East quagmire of religions, history, and tribes and factions are overstocked with tendencies to war.

Personally, dispiriting matters keep piling up in my world. I don’t write about all of them. Not going to start now. My basic bottom line which I return to again and again, is, this is life. Many of us — hell, I’ll go out on a limb and declare that most of us — go through this shit. I can only imagine how worse the shit is magnified if you’re suffering from serious diseases, homelessness, racism and other prejudice, discrimination, or hate. On paper, I have it pretty good but life is lived on a spectrum. We slide up and down it. I’m on the down side today.

We watched again a Neflix series on the gut and the biome’s influence on our brains and pains.* As part of this show, they talked about fecal transplants. Transplants were done by people who had problems and were seeking solutions. One woman used her boyfriend’s fecal material as her transplant source. She noted that he has ‘mental issues’ but didn’t specify more. Or maybe I spaced on it. I did catch her say that she began acting and feeling like him, emotionally unstable, anxious, and depressed. She quit using his shit and used her brother’s shit. After a week, she felt much better.

I imagine a future of routine fecal transplants. A partner on the computer says, “I’m ordering some groceries and things. Is there anything you need?”

“Yes, get me some new shit. I’m almost out of shit and I’m feeling it.”

“What shit do you want?”

“Same shit as last time. It should be in your order history.”

“Is it the Tom Cruise brand Improved Shit?”

“Yes, that’s the shit, but get a big jar. I’m really feeling it.”

“You got it.”

I think about whose shit I might order. Maybe Taylor Swift, Tom Brady, or Patrick Mahomes. I pity the fool who tries mine. But then again, I know people with some shit that’s a lot worse.

*The Neflix series is You Are What You Eat: A Twin Experiment

4

A Positive Dream

Dreamland hasn’t been a happy place recently. Dreams featured me being lost and struggling. Maggots coming out of my skin. Being a broken robot. Etc. Different nights. Each brought a new horror of who I was. I disliked those dreams.

The Neurons flipped the script last night. In this one, a young and vigorous me was starting a new job. In medical device manufacturing, as I did for a few years. I was a mid-level manager. Working alone, as, again, I often did. But I had a great cast of supportive, friendly co-workers. They checked in on me. Helped me set up an office. Joked with me and came to me for my opinion, advice, and insights.

There were some messy moments. Like, my clothes became filthy from an office accident that didn’t otherwise involve me. I felt that I had to get out of those clothes but what was I going to wear? Co-workers came through with clothes they had available. Stuff planned to work after work for the gym, golfing, and dating. They willingly gave me those clothes.

I received a phone call. There was a family emergency. I needed to get somewhere that night. But my car was in the garage. A real-life friend from now, Ron, showed up. Turned out he was a co-worker. He asked me about my problem. “I’m going that way,” he said. “I can give you a ride.” We cemented arrangements.

I was so pleased. Then, chaos broke out at work. Problem after problem. While I worked to solve them, co-workers consistently came through with tools, insights, and helping hands.

The message I took away was, yes, life is messy and chaotic. But don’t worry. Others are there to help.

It was a message I really felt like I needed to hear.

0

Mundaz’s Theme Music

Feb. 10, 2025, is a wintry Mundaz in Ashlandia. White sky holds no promises. White sky offers no sun. White sky offers no solace.

No precipitation is falling but we’re hovering at a toasty 23 F, ten degrees below our average low for this calendar date. Snow that fell last week still has a meaty white presence on the ground. The pine trees have finally shed that winter weight. Last week’s snow and ice had many pines bent to half of their height.

As for today, ‘they’ tell us that the sunshine will overcome the white sky and take us to 43 F, ten degrees below our normal average high.

Sorry that KC Chiefs were so dominated by the Philly Eagles in the SB yesterday. Unfortunately, PINO Trump predicted they’d win. That doomed them. As we’ve seen repeatedly demonstrated, Trump bestows the kiss of death on everything.

The Neurons surprised me with today’s music. It started as a tangent off some floofcourse between me and my felines. I asked them, “What’s wrong now?” Their answer came as pouty stares and circling watchfulness, which just dumped Les Neurons into bafflement. As I shifted to news reports with growing, heavier sighs, I thought, “Too many problems.”

A song began in my morning mental music stream. “What’s wrong, what’s wrong now? Too many problems.” As it pulled up volume and melody, I hunted the who, what, whens behind it. Unable to answer those myself, I turned to the net. It educated me that the song was “Nobody’s Home” by Avril Lavigne from 2004. I guess I heard it in the car. Back in that decade, I moved to Ashlandia and began doing regular I-5 commutes from my place in southern Oregon to visit with my team in Mountain View, between SF and SJ on the peninsula. Guess I heard it then.

Hope you can get positive that something good will come about and it won’t take a miracle from some deity or an eternity to happen. Coffee and I have embraced again. Off we go, into the wild white yonder, a fresh start on another day.

Cheers

2

WordPress Blues

I’ve read others’ comments about comments getting rejected by WordPress. Last week, it struck me. I’d type up a comment, click comment, and WP replied, “This comment couldn’t be posted” or words to that effect.

It doesn’t happen with everyone’s blogs. It’s irritatingly random. First time, the poster had written about bowel movements and their poo. I commented and added a facet about menstrual cycles. When my comments were rejected, I wondered if it was about the subject or my word choices. But since then, I’ve had comments rejected about car repairs, animals, food, news, and politics.

Just one of those mysterious afflictions which sometimes strike modern technology, I suppose.

7

Munda’s Wandering Thoughts

It was a strange coffee shop morning. My back against one wall, the tables were full of chatting couples. Eavesdropping, I realized that of the four closest tables to me, all four couples were generally a counselor meeting with a client doing therapy sessions. I’ve noticed three of the couples at the coffee shop before. Heard several of them talking about their partner’s drug issues or their own health issues, both mental and physical. I rarely feel a need to talk to another about my issues. Then again, I often write about that shit.

Guess that’s my therapy.

3

F-I-F

One of several favorable impression I have about WordPress is, they respond fast. Once something broken is uncovered, it’s been my experience that they fix it fast. I really do appreciate that about them.

In this case, it’s about the ability to add tags. Just a few days ago, the bug appeared in my blogging attempts. It was still there this morning. Bang, gone now.

Hurrah for WordPress. Wish more companies were as prompt and responsive.

2

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