My dream was very busy and energetic. Going on a trip. Taking my wife. Packing, organizing, making arrangements. Very excited. Looking forward to it. On top of everything. All was going smoothly.
I sat back to wait for the journey to begin, pleased that I was ready.
Then –
Awakening, I bolted upright. Looked frantically around. OMG, what time is it?
I didn’t set the alarm!
What time am I supposed to leave?
Whoa, whoa, slow down, buttercup. That was a dream.
Spring endures in Ashland. 48, blue skies, clouds, sunshine, high in the mid-sixties expected.
Mom endures in her assisted living facility. My sister couldn’t do the things she enumerated yesterday. Mom remains in the assisted living facility and seems agreeable to selling her house. However, she’s trying to manipulate us in other ways, according to my sister. She said Mom wrote a long text that she wanted sis to share with all of us. My sister refused. Life.
My plumbing endures. Mixed results with the plumber yesterday. Both shutoff valves replaced at the toilets, but the plumber felt only one had a leaking wax seal. When he pulled it, lo, the wood under it was soaked. So, wax ring replaced, toilet put back, but now we need to send someone under the house to examine that area. I’ve been under the house; not fun. We have a low, low crawlspace. But I don’t have the expertise needed for this kind of assessment. Thought about using different cameras to see what it looks like. Still noodling that.
Trump endures, too. It is remarkable but many speculate that Trump staged the attempt on him. While Trump blames ‘the left’, he continues to incite hatred and violence toward others while asking that we be nicer to him.
Part of this is that Trump is a documented liar and cheat. He wants to be feared, liked, respected, admired. As part of his ‘weave’, he’ll say anything but that’s shredded his credibility. We know now he makes grandiose promises and bizarre accusations and declarations; it’s all just air.
Doesn’t help, neither, that within hours of the attempt, Trump was calling to build his White House ballroom because, “Security!” But the WHCD was not in the White House. Even if the ballroom had been done, it wouldn’t have affected what happened at the WHCD.
I will also say that even if Cole Tomas Allen left behind a ‘manifesto’ and seems to have a life, Hollywood has convinced me that creating a legend like that is very possible. While I don’t particularly believe the Trump administration is sanguine enough to get it done, there are some high-tech security firms in his corner who could do it. If I believe Hollywood, so could the CIA.
Why not? It’s the age of deep fakes and AI.
With Trump not being held accountable for his lies and behavior, it’ll probably because worse as others attempt to emulate and duplicate his success as a con artist. More troubling is how his actions undermine our trust and belief in authority.
Meanwhile, the squeeze is on U.S. farmers. They’re in a bad situation: diesel is up, fertilizer is up, interest rates are up, available migrant labor is down, and droughts are in the forecast.
“Data from the USDA show that soybean exports to China, as of March 19, are about half the amount they were last year.”
Reminder: we’re into the eighth week of the Trump Iran War. He has no exit plan.
Reminder: the Epstein files have not been completely released.
Reminder: Trump’s popularity is declining and prices are rising.
Expect some new Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! breaking news soon.
“Another Brick in the Wall (Part 2)” ended up in my morning mental music stream. So many bricks being put into place between what we were, what we could become. Trump builds walls to divide and separate, keep the poor in misery and empower the wealthy, along with walls against equality, freedom, science, and education.
Hope you end up in the best possible place when this day is finished. Onward.
Hazy but sunny, it was 43 F out when I got up this morning but now it’s 61, with a high in the upper 70s expected. This is part of the California coast heatwave. Being Oregon, we don’t get as much national attention as our southern neighbor, but the conditions striking California are also nailing us. We might set a new record high for the date tomorrow as analysts say that the low 80s are possible.
The news cycle brought more war news along with stories about Academy Awards winners and losers. The Trump Iran War continues. Suggestions swirl that both the United States and Russia will deploy ground troops to Iran. Despite Trump’s claim that Iran’s military was 100% destroyed, Iran hit a UAE oil port and Dubai airport.
Friends yesterday talked about the current political atmosphere. Many were dismayed by how easily Trump launched new military attacks and dragged us into war. While we naturally recognized, this has been an ugly trend by the left and right for decades, it’s really disturbing that a person who often speaks like he’s high is able to launch powerful, deadly weapons almost at will.
Others brought up how Brendan Carr, chairman of the FCC, is threatening the freedom of the press. One friend said when that Democrats return to a position where it can happen, there should be some Nuremburg-style trials. There wasn’t much further discussion of that, but the general consensus is, changes are needed.
I later received an email from another friend, who wasn’t at our little gathering. She wrote,
“We need Nuremburg-style atonement. Without it, we’ll just continue on our late-stage capitalist descent into the ranks of failed experiments with democracy. But hey, at least we have energy sucking, water guzzling generative AI to make silly videos of pets in bathrobes enjoying the spa to distract us from all this while data centers drink our future…”
Today’s song came from a concert by the Rogue Valley Symphonic Band yesterday. I’ve always enjoyed it so it’s no surprise that when The Neurons heard it yesterday, it resurfaced in today’s morning mental music stream.
The concert’s theme was Echoes of Oregon and featured composers who lived in or were educated in Oregon. One of these was Mason Williams, who came out with “Classical Gas” in 1968. The song is an instrumental featuring an acoustic guitar and symphony. I’ve always been drawn to its soft, contemplative beginning and then its urgent, more soaring sound later. A simple melody, the song reached number two behind a song by The Doors. Pretty remarkable.
Someone else who was at the concert and heard “Classical Gas” lamented she wished we were in a simpler era. Several of us scoffed, reminding her of all that was going on in 1968. All of us remembered headlines about the civil rights movements, riots and protests, the Vietnam war, space race, dark, filthy air with rivers on fire, and the cold war and its nuclear threat.
We were left wondering, when were simpler times?
Hope your day is simple, carefree, and satisfying to you in important ways. Off we go, one more time.
Ashland, Oregon — Wednesday, February 25, 2026. Rainy, 46 F, the day is calm, shiny wet, and gray with a forecast high of 55 F.
Family text messages were almost nonexistent, except for one from sis. Mom has signed the paperwork to remain in the assisted living center for March. Her money is running out, though, so this is another stage of development. Now we wait to see what will unfold.
After checking in on Mom and my sisters, I read Trump’s State of the Union. Trump went into sales mode, framing some facts as being historically great. Chances are, when checked against actual documentation, the claims won’t hold. In a way, this is like radio or television ads making great claims about their product or service but then adds some very fast speech and texts about warnings and exceptions. Trump left the warnings off, though.
I didn’t listen to Trump’s speech. Reading the transcript is draining. He makes such gross exaggerations, grabbing credit when he is due none. Like the Olympic games coming to the United States. Other people worked hard, long hours to make the games come to Los Angeles, and a committee selected LA. Trump glosses over their work as though those individuals did nothing, that it was all due to him.
In the end, it was a typical Trump speech of selling how great everything is, how wonderful he is, how terrible Democrats are. Inside his bubble, he probably thinks it’s all true. His base will respond and love it. Military force, USA, USA! And that Biden! But I’m sure more FAFO is on the way for them.
All this ended up with U2 singing “One” in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons began with the opening lyrics:
Lyrics
Is it getting better? Or do you feel the same? Will it make it easier on you now? You got someone to blame?
[Bridge]
You say love is a temple, love a higher law Love is a temple, love the higher law You ask me to enter, but then you make me crawl And I can’t be holding on to what you got When all you got is hurt
Let’s hope that we come together to build something better for all of us, where we can co-exist with other views without thinking of them as an enemy. In other words, a place with peace and grace.
Donald Trump is scheduled to give a State of the Union address to a joint session of Congress tonight. This is an opportunity for him to tout what he’s done and shape messaging ahead of this year’s midterm elections.
It comes at an interesting time. As trends now go, Trump’s popularity is falling. At least 31 Republicans in Congress announced that they’ll retire instead of vying for re-election.
I expect Trump to brag about wars he ended or stopped. I think he’ll talk about how great he thinks the economy is, perhaps even mention beating affordability — a Democratic hoax in his mind — and ‘ending inflation’.
Trump seems to fantasize about what he’s doing, dreaming up a result, then acting like it’s reality. To me, that’s exactly what the video he made of himself as a hockey player winning an Olympic gold medal is all about, along with the video he made before as a superhero.
This also explains why Trump is so terrified of the Epstein files being released that he keeps trying to stall, redact, and distract from it. Like his taxes, the Epstein file will reveal a truth that Trump hides, dashing his fantasies about who he is.
It’s funny, too, in a very sad way. The hockey team won a gold medal as a team. Trump sees himself as achieving success while being part of a team, but never actually acts as a team player.
What I would like to see from Trump’s State of the Union address is an announcement that he’s resigning. I’d him to say he’s retiring from the public eye and, paraphrasing Spiro Agnew, we won’t have Trump to kick around any more.
Since I’m fantasizing this, I think I’ll treat it as reality. It’s a done deal.
And as Trump might say, it’s the most beautiful thing ever.
February 7, 2026. Ashland greets me and Saturday with overcast skies and 47 F. Yes, will it rain, snow? Not cold enough for the latter, it’s been a month since significant rain fell.
Today’s high will be in the mid-fifties and precipitation isn’t forecast for today. A Facebook graphic (posted at the bottom) gives visuals to our worries. We keep reminding ourselves, it’s still only February.
Playing with dreams, interacting with Papi, reading the news, and waiting for updates from sis occupies my morning. Papi remains a positive, casual spirit, slipping by my legs in an orange-fur kiss. Dreams are erotic and intriguing.
The news, ah. I enjoy reviews of how insipid the “Melania” documentary seems. Emerging as a vehicle to support Trump’s spin that Melania is so smart and interesting, the quotes and stills reminds me of how flat and empty she always appears.
The documentary set a record for opening day box office receipts for that category. Anecdotally, the theaters have been almost empty. Online, Rotten Tomatoes is a perfect metaphor for this era, critics there granting the movie an 8% approval while ‘audiences’ give it 99%.
That’s so perfectly aligned with this era.
Over in life with Mom, Mom is going through another breakdown. Sis recorded one of the conversations she and Mom had, when sis delivered Mom dinner.
Mom refused to eat and kept telling sis, “You’re not the boss of me.” The split arose because a nurse is coming to see Mom. Mom wanted more time to get ready but Sis works and had to be there to meet the nurse and let her in. Mom needed more time because she wants to hide her medication collection and clean herself up. Mom also accused sis of poisoning her.
Sis couldn’t change plans. Mom spent the night crying and moaning, “I don’t want to be here,” curling up at 6:30 this morning to go to sleep. The nurse was due at 10. The appointment should have taken place; I’m awaiting reports.
In reporting, though, I’ve noticed subtle shifts in sis’s attitude towards Mom. She’s become more reflective, tolerant, and patience.
UPDATE: Sis explained all to the nurse and suggested it sounds like — drum roll — dementia. It was an anti-climatic moment. She suggested Mom needs to see a neurologist. Also — Mom may have a UTI. That wouldn’t be a surprise.
I end up with “Heaven” by the Talking Heads in my morning mental music stream, a quiet little song about a place everyone wants to reach, where they do — nothing but chill. Relax. And like that, The Neurons summon Frankie Goes to Hollywood. Hah!
Hope your day is joyous, and satisfying to you in meaningful ways. I’ll take what I can get, here and now, and try to move on to something better.
I’m revising and editing the novel in progress, “Unfocused”. This pass is for understanding, coherency, continuity. More planned passes will address line edits and polishing. I do address egregious issues whenever I encounter them but improving mechanics and refinement isn’t my current focus.
It goes well but it’s not an even tide. Most chapters are broken into six to ten numbered sections. It fascinates me is how well I remember writing passages and yet they seem like foreign lands. Distinct memories of decisions and progressions are encountered. When I wrote the novel, I sometimes wasn’t satisfied with a chapter and decided to get out of my way, just get it all down, go on, and return to it during revisions. Chapters also exist where I worked them and worked them until they satisfied the writer of that day and I was content to move on.
How I addressed the chapters and sections show. Revision for one rushed chapter consumed an entire week, developing into a sequence of revising and editing. Sometimes several passes of a section were done in one day. More than once, I walked away to think and digest what was and wasn’t working and where changes were needed. Those breaks always helped.
Other days — yesterday, for instance — I swept through one entire chapter in one two-hour session and walked away pleased. It all varies.
Now, back to editing and revising “Unfocused”, 536 pages long, resuming at page 246.
Michael Seidel, writer 