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

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

Mundaz Theme Music

Today is Munda, December 15, 2025. Sixteen days remain in 2025. It’ll be a memorable year for historians.

Clouds capped Ashlandia’s sky. Rain is s’posed to be headin’ our way. 38 degrees F now, we may see fifty.

Peace and grace took more hits this weekend. Murderers struck in Australia and Brown University. There were absolutely more murders and shootings than these two this weekend. These two were the ones which seized attention because of their planned cruelty. They seem like an extension of the mindset which put DJ Trump into the building formerly known as the White House for a second term. Part of a sad world where war and killing equals peace and justice. Same as it ever was, so I shouldn’t be surprised.

Then we came to the murder of Rob Reiner and his wife. Stabbed to death by their son. That kind of news bankrupts my soul, especially on top of the shootings.

Today’s music is a Velvet Underground offering called, “What Goes On”. I didn’t know of it when it first came out in ’68. Learned of it a few years later. Just fascinated me. It was the beat, the guitar, the organ, the drum, the lyrics and vocals. “One minute born, one minute doomed. One minute up, one minute down. What goes on in your mind?”

Today’s presence in the morning mental music stream was jogged when I questioned the poem, “A Visit from St. Nicholas”, later known as “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas”. We heard it recited with some humorous music accompaniment at a holiday concert yesterday. St. Nick was covered with soot coming down the chimney. I commented that he must have been filthy by the night’s end. My wife said, “No, he’d be cleaned by Christmas magic.” Which lead to my observation that Christmas Magic would be a good name for a dry-cleaning service. Which precipitated the wonder, “What goes on in your mind.”

Musing around dream gyrations and yesterday and other things, the comment returned to me. The Neurons caught it and the song came on.

Stay warm and safe, wherever you are. Hope peace and grace do a quick cameo for the cameras. Coffee has me going again. Oh, it’s raining, first precipitation of December. And off we go. Cheers

Fridaz Theme Music

It’s a sighing kind of day. Sunshine is spare as rain falls and gray clouds swallow the valley. 46 F now, we’re almost at our high. Yes, good to have some rain. But not so good for my spirit today, Frida, December 5, 2025. On the plus side of things, Wordle, Connections, and the Spelling Bee were all easy. So I have that going for me.

Mom and sis are again having issues. These are also adjustment things. Relates to how things used to be done when Mom and Frank lived together and Frank ran Mom’s errands. Sam’s Club was being used as Mom’s pharmacy. That was cost-effective and convenient for them. Sam’s Club was just less than ten minutes away, an easy drive. Frank enjoyed going through, picking up the prescriptions, doing some shopping, getting gas. Sam’s Club is nowhere near sis’s house. Going through is an hour plus investment of time and effort deeply affected by traffic and weather. Sis asked Mom to change her pharmacy to CVS because it’s just a few minutes away. Mom said she called the Sam’s Club and told them. No, Mom needs to call her doctor and tell them. She says she did. They told another sister that Mom’s message couldn’t be understood. Sis asked Mom to call them again. Mom said, no, she’s only allowed to call the doctor once a day. WTF? So yeah, confusion, frustrations, and stress are rising. Doesn’t help sis that she’s working this week so much of this is being conducted via phone calls and text messages while she’s at work. It’ll pass. Hopefully that’ll happen soon, and without much bloodshed. This sort of reminds me of the novel, Corrections.

Today’s music is dedicated to Trump and his enablers. After news reading that encouraged headshaking, groaning, growling, and sighs, The Neurons put Linda Ronstadt in the morning mental music stream with her cover of “You’re No Good”.

My wife raised this issue today: why didn’t the Trump Regime pick up those two survivors of the boat attack and question them for intelligence and information? Answer: because it’s about killing and making a show, and not about truth, facts, facts. She continues to advocate for the guillotine. She believes drastic changes will be needed once Trump is gone, and the only way to emphasize that We the People are serious is to lop off a few heads. Mitch McConnell tops her list. Weird to hear this lifelong pacifist advocate cutting off heads but that’s where we’re at.

Coffee and I are making nice again. Time to get out and do other things. Hope peace and grace light your day for a bit. Here I go, into the rain. Cheers

Thirstdaz Theme Music

I pulled the curtains open on our final Monroeville morning. The Neurons sang, “It’s raining, it’s pouring, the old man is snoring.”

Yes, rain annoints Thirstda, October 30, 2025. The temp is warmer, though, 46 F. Temp is expected to leap to 48 F. Back in Ashlandia, on the nation’s left coast, 62 F is expected as a high.

Mom is doing well, although stress fractures are starting to appear among her caretakers. Sis and her family are shouldering most of that with help from the other two sisters. But Mom’s care is an almost constant thing as she calls for help, drops things, needs to use the bathroom, needs help dressing, needs her bedding changed and washed, etc. Home health assistance is again being addressed. I think it’s needed but Mom is adamant against strangers helping her. It’ll take time for her to accept that it must be done.

Oh, that Trump. The man who wants the Nobel Peace Prize also thinks the world needs more nukes. He wants to resume nuclear testing. We continue to trudge deeper into Trump’s upside-down reality, just as written in 1984. Meanwhile, experts familiar with how nuclear testing is conducted points out that it’s not done by Defense, but the Department of Energy. Many of those officials needed in nuclear testing were…drum roll…furloughed or fired by Trump and DOGE as part of their efficiency drive. What maroons. The experts also note that it takes several years to fire up nuclear testing programs, and that Trump seems to be fact-flawed reasoning for the need for testing. Like, yeah, when does Trump use facts? Of course he’s employing flawed thinking. That’s who and what he demonstrably is: a flawed thinker, unless it’s way to get attention and make more money for himself.

Pretty funny, too. Trump gave his visit with South Korea a 12 out of ten (there’s that math genius!) while South Korea was like, yeah, it was very pleasant. Reminds me of a blind date where one thinks marriage is in the future and the other is ready to move on.

The Neurons have plugged “That’s All” by Genesis into the morning mental music stream. The Neurons attribute the song to Trump and his continual lying and bullshit, the pass which the press mostly grants him on his garbage talk, the unflinching adulation from MAGA, and the cover the GOP provides him. Part of the lyrics of “That’s All” go, “It’s always the same, it’s just a shame, that’s all. I could say day and you’d say night. Tell me it’s black when I know it’s white. Always the same, it’s just a shame, and that’s all.”

Hope light finds peace and grace and guides them back to us. Well, that’s all. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

Sunda. October 19, 2025. Rain hissed on the roof. The house heater added a rush of air. 49 F, rain is expected all day, with a temperature that peaks at 61 F. Fog has sunk its teeth into the surrounding mountains. Leafy golds, yellows, oranges, and reds glow. Papi galloped in, threw himself down and vigorously applied his tongue to his orange fur to rid himself of that accursed wet. Then it was on to food, nom nom nom.

The No Kings II protest went well. We made it an hour late. Finding parking was a Lewis & Clark expedition. Was great being out there yesterday with other protestors, waving our signs, protesting the GOP eagerness to let Trump be king, protesting Trump’s arrogance that he should be king, protesting the general shit show Trump, Project 2025, and the GOP are putting on. Felt good to know others like us are out there, and they’re standing up. Even more satisfying and validating were the cars going by, horns blowing, giving us thumbs up, holding up peace signs, shouting, “Right on.” Only heard one “Fuck you,” and one “Sieg heil.” The latter came from a woman. Both of these disapprovers were in huge pickemups.

My greatest disappointment was that most of the protesters were old folks like us. The young were in short supply. My wife reminded me that they probably have to work and to cut them some slack. Anyway, thinking about the young provoked The Neurons to bring up a Eurythmics song, “All the Young (People of Today)”. Came out in 1981. Odd vibe to it. I thought, wow, that’s a weird one to come up with. I know it from listening to Euythmics CDs. Don’t think any radio station ever sent it to my ears.

Mom’s new habitat enclosure at sis’s house is getting developed fast. Small dorm frig has been added. A microwave. Hope Mom will be happy there, along with warm and safe. There was a whole late-night misadventure on Friday night. Mom thought she heard someone trying to get into her house and knocking on the door, calling her name. She was there alone. Hiding in her bathroom, she texted her daughters and grandchildren to call the police for her. Why she didn’t do that for herself is one aspect of the mystery. As it was after midnight, most were asleep or away from their phones. Mom’s texts went unnoticed until a grandson, Michael, saw it. Then 911 was called, etc. Police showed up, knocking on Mom’s front door. She wouldn’t answer. She was hiding in the bathroom. The police reported deer were on the small stoop outside of Mom’s room, eating off a tree by the house. 911 had to call my sister, who called Mom to tell her what was going on.

Coffee is singing to The Neurons once again. The day has grown brighter. The temperature has climbed to 50 and if you lean forward and squint at just the right angle, there’s a small blue patch struggling to break out of the cloud eggs containing it. Which reminds me. Hope peace and grace break out of their shells soon and bless us with some visiting. Here we go, on into another day, another week, another…well, you know. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

Sunda, October 12, 2025. Though we’re still weeks away from Halloween, winter feels like it has its claws into us. Trees still adorn trees but the air is 45 F and just feels friggin’ icy, with heavy clouds maliciously clotting the sunshine. 56 is the foreseen high but I’m dubious about clocking in anywhere close to that. Showers are expected.

The Epstein Shutdown of 2025 continues. I was reading about its impact on farmers in Iowa and Wisconsin. They’re preparing for next year’s activities. As a farmer related, one season ends and you immediately begin planning the next. With the shutdown, the agencies which usually assist them in that process are empty or unresponsive. So next year’s crops are being impacted. That’s Trump/Project 2025 foresight for you.

We’re listening and watching videos which protestors are putting together from Chicago and Portland. Videos show people peacefully protesting when ICE fires on them. ICE agents are often laughing. One protestor said that he overheard agents telling each other, “I don’t know why we’re here.” Yep. Another videographer said that ICE seemed disorganized and lacked leadership and guidance. Not a surprise, given the sloppy manner in which the Trump Regime functions.

Despite a bevy of dreams and some conversations with Papi about the weather, today’s song comes from a convo with the wife. Out shopping, light rain spit down on us. I said something about having an umbrella. She sang some of Rihanna’s “Umbrella” back to me. When the car was started, the song began playing on the radio, which had us laughing at the coincidence. The Neurons got hooked. As I checked the weather outside the window, they returned the song to the morning mental music stream.

My wife mentioned Tom Holland’s performance in a lip-sync battle in which he performed “Umbrella”, so I’ll include that for fun.

Coffee is visiting my body again, lifting me to get out and get stuff done. Like yard work. Cold, wet yardwork. Oh boy! Hope peace and grace are unearthed soon and spread into your life and mine. Here we go. Cheers

Mundaz Theme Music

Munda arrives with little sun, a hint of rain, and a glaze of smoke. The air quality has improved to the mid sixties, a moderate rating. With sparse sunshine and thickening clouds, the temp now of 63 F is not far off an expected high of 68 F. This is September 29, 2025.

Reading about Trump and his unholy assault on morality, justice, equality, and freedom inspired The Neurons. What’s unreal about Trump is that his supporters claim they’re all about Christianity. They’re selective about that, prizing money over helping the poor and sick, and are eager to club strangers over the head or shoot them on sight, if they’re not the right color. We’ve had multiple mass shootings again, a situation that’s worsening. Trump blames violence on ‘the left’. That’s how it is in his alternate reality. In the real world, the right are the killers with guns, carrying out Trump’s violent, hateful agenda. He’s tacitly encouraging that violence by pretending it’s the left. That situation will worsen and eventually eat the Republicans and their base alive. Once that happens, maybe some sane governing can take place. Meanwhile, thinking of Trump and his Project 2025 right-wing approach has “Unholy” by Sam Smith playing in the morning mental music stream.

While I’m mocking the GOP, TACO first sniffed that he wasn’t dealing with Democrats and their ‘outrageous demands’. Then he lied his ass off to give himself cover, blaming Democrats for the impending government shutdown. Polls and feedback quickly bit him because suddenly he’s inviting a few to chat with them about the budget.

Also high on the mocking list is that pious religious bullshit artist, Speaker Mike Johnson – R (Hell). Fearful of having those Epstein files released because of what they’ll show about his master, Rep. Johnson is refusing to sit the newest Democrat representative to the House. Must be quite a bit of unsavory info, perhaps even information on crimes, involving DJ Trump in that file. Wouldn’t be a surprise, as smirking Jeffrey Epstein and smirking Donnie Trump were known as smirking BFFs.

Hope that grace and peace find their way to us before too much longer. Meanwhile, awaken and abide by your resilience. Coffee helps me. Think I’ll have another. Here we go again. Cheers

Twozdaz Theme Music

Howdy, sports fans. It’s Twozda, September 9, 2025. 62 degrees F holds forth in Ashlandia. Marbled clouds headline the moment. Never fear: it’s going to move to 69 degrees F by the day’s end, although we may need to navigate more thunder and rain while we get there. Feels like autumn has got its dandruff up and is out to end summer’s hold on Ashland.

Yesterday early afternoon found us with a huge downpour. People rushed into the coffee shop bursting with news about how intense, sudden, and cold the rain was. Brief was added to its description as the rain ceased after ten relentless minutes.

Then, 2:30 AM. A sound is covering the house. My sleepy mind thought it was a giant fan. Asking, what fan is that, I roamed through the house and realized, that giant fan sound was rain hissing down with Biblical efforts. I returned to bed and sleep only to awaken a while later to my wife in the kitchen getting water.

A sharp, high squeal noise had awakened me. I asked my wife if she’d heard it. “It’s raining,” she said.

I listened. “It stopped.”

“No, it’s still going.”

Papi and I went out back to prove the rain was stopped. It was. Cool breezes swept by with friendly helloes. Moonlight bright enough to walk on broke out. Rain clouds were splitting up and racing away in different directions, leaving a starry dark gray feast for my eyes. “This is nice,” I said. Papi didn’t disagree.

After I was back in bed, a sound like a brassy chord being strong on an electric guitar awakened me. “What the hell was that?” The Neurons asked the dark room. Nobody was giving any answers about noises.

Dad remains hospitalized. Not much can be done about a fractured pelvis. He’s due to be moved to a rehab center today. Andy is also being moved to a rehab center to help him recover from his hip fracture. Sis is mum about her medical procedure and its results.

Gritting my teeth and swallowing my GRRRRR, I peruse the news. Trump is suing the WSJ and anyone attached to the story about his ‘alleged’ birthday card/notes to Epstein. I’m sure Trump is betting that the story will be withdrawn and apologies issues. Meanwhile, he donated the Bible his mother presented to him in his boyhood to a Bible Museum. The net responded with laughter and mocking about the Bible. Most doubt that Trump opened his Bible, read it, and went to church, except for publicity when it suited his needs.

More attacks have been carried out in several wars. None of the war reporting arrives with a sense that the fighting is going to end soon. The major aggressors, Russia and Israel, are well past reasonable lines about their intentions. All can see that Russia will not stop until it has Ukraine. Israel won’t stop until Hamas are all dead. Neither nation displays concern or empathy for the innocents they’re killing.

Economic news will take over today’s media top spots. 911,000 fewer jobs were created between April 2024 and March 2025, BLS says. US job growth through March was significantly weaker than previously thought. Economists and analysts are telling us that it means the jobs markets was even worse than realized. A large downward revision was expected, with many citing sampling errors resulting from declining survey responses, weaker-than-inferred job creation at new firms, and adjustments related to asylum-seekers and other undocumented workers. The pandemic’s impact on the global labor market and residual adjustments were also blamed. Trump’s WH thinks that it proves Trump was right, the Biden economy was a disaster, and the BLS reporting is broken. That’s certainly puzzling, isn’t it: the Trump Regime is depending on a system they claim is broken to prove they’re right. Classic MAGAt non-thinking.

All this has culminated in The Neurons’ song choice for my morning mental music stream. It stormed in Ashland, with more storms coming. Trump is riding a storm of criticism about Jeffrey Epstein. We the People are riding through the storm of data about what’s going on with the economy. Hence, The Neurons summoned The Doors and “Riders on the Storm”.

Coffee has dropped in for an extended visit. May grace and peace visit and stay with us all for a while. Here we go again. Cheers

Satyrdaz Theme Music

September is dashing through the weekdaz. We’ve already punched through to Satyrda, September 6, 2025. It wasn’t hot. Rain fell. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed. Hail slammed us. Yes, it was an Oregon road trip.

Here is “On the Road Again”. Canned Heat. At Woodstock.

Hope your day was well, my fellow earth dwellers, and peace and grace found and kept you. Cheers

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