Tuesday Theme Music – Imaginary

Ashland, Oregon – Tuesday, March 24, 2026.

It’s warming today but not like much of the continental United States. Currently 68 F, our 75 F high will give us a comfortably warm day.

My wife purchased this little art piece for the house. It’s perfect for us, as we both enjoy reading, and I also write. I enjoy the little reader statue so much, I thought I would share.

My life is otherwise auto-pilot quiet as we go through routine tasks and await news or results.

As I often do, I began reading the news today and ended up struck with some ideas which evolved into a small piece about Trump world. I split it off.

Meanwhile, the basic theme stayed with me: imaginary. Much of Trump’s existence is based on false ideas, misconstrued history, and things which he imagines. My Neurons sensed the direction and introduced “Imaginary Lover” by ARS into my morning mental music stream.

It fits, though: “Imaginary lovers never turn you down.” That’s Trump and his base all the way; they never turn him down.

Also, despite all the files being suppressed and the history that shows Trump was friends with Epstein, Trump is trying to insist that’s not true. He’s trying to tell us that we imagine his relationship with Epstein.

I chuckled when I heard the song in my head. How many of Trump’s base imagine him as their lover?

I hope your day is comfortable, safe, and leaning toward optimistic outcomes.

Cheers

March 24, 2026 4

February 22, 2026 0

February 7, 2026 0

Wednesday’s Theme Music

Dry but cold and sunny, Wednesday, February 4, 2026, has begun its 24-hour Ashland residency. 50 – 46 – 37 F are Ashland’s temperatures, given by Alexa, online, and home. Sunny, with blue skies and no clouds that Papi and I can see. A high of sixty-something is projected.

I’m thinking about beats today. Give me a beat, we got the beat, we were beat, they beat him down.

Every day — every hour — has its beats. Sometimes they come out sharp and clear. Today, they’re muted background noise for me.

Reading a novel for a bit doesn’t reveal the day’s beats. Nor does reading the news. Yet the beat goes on.

Papi has his beat, moving with private style, a cool and graceful study in orange fur. Bit jealous, watching his steady gaze as he sits, looks, washes.

It’s only February and already the news beat has been manic with news that has me gritting my teeth, bracing for worse. The Neurons have offered up a Foo Fighters tune to blanket the noise. “The Pretender” plays in the morning mental music stream, driving me forward a new, harder beat. The song reminds me, same ol’ story, waiting to see what happens, waiting to hear their defense, waiting for a change back to the nation I knew.

Sample Lyrics

What if I say I’m not like the others?
What if I say I’m not just another one of your plays?
You’re the pretender
What if I say I will never surrender?

The song fits my mood because I often ask of Trump, who are you to issue decrees like a pompous king? And I ask of the MAGAs, who are you that you believe where Trump leads, not just accepting, but supporting and encouraging it?

The morning circle is done. Hope peace and grace find you, me, all of us, and take us tightly through this day and into a better tomorrow.

Cheers

February 4, 2026 0

January 13, 2026 0

Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

My wife came in, sighed, and gave a book report. She reads a lot — over one hundred novels in 2025. I read but not nearly as much, in large part because I write fiction.

I often hear two or three book reports a day from her. Today’s report launched from a familiar sore spot for her.

“Well, I’m enjoying this book, but. I have nine pages left. I know that they’re not going to wrap this story up in nine pages. Not if it’s going to make sense. That means there’s a sequel, a book two, maybe more. Why do they do this? It should be illegal. It should be a crime. If you write a book, it should have an ending, not another thousand book to read.”

Report finished, she stalked back out. A minute later, I heard her singing and cleaning the kitchen. She gets angry about it but at this point, she’s resigned to the situation. I don’t think it’ll be much longer before she begins confirming that the book has an ending before she begins reading it.

We all have our limits.

January 5, 2026 1

The Writing Moment

I wrote “The End.” Then I sat there, slightly stupefied, wondering what to do next.

Is it really the novel’s end? Only the three Rs—re-reading, rewriting, revising—will tell me.

It feels good as a novel at this point. I think I found the story and followed it where it needed to go, shaping plot and character along the way. Like so many writers, I’m left with a quiet sense of wonder: nearly five hundred pages spent exploring another life, another existence. There’s sadness, too. I enjoyed my characters. Writing “The End” makes me miss them already.

A million other ideas are queued up, hungry. But first, I’ll take a day and let the novel—and myself—breathe. Then I’ll open it again, turn to page one, and begin the three Rs.