Tag: relationships

Thursday’s Theme Music — Stroking

Ashland, southern Oregon. Thursday, September 10, 2026.

Heat is in the air again today. Sunshine sluices down between scattered clouds. 83 degrees F as of now, we’re looking for a high that’s ten degrees more.

I’m trying to negotiate a peace between Mom and one of my sisters. I’ve written before about my younger sister, Gina. She put in a lot of work helping Mom over the years. Gina’s husband, Pat, was right beside her.

When Mom’s partner, Frank, died at 95 last October, Mom was put into a bad situation. Given her needs and medical challenges, she couldn’t live alone in her home. Gina and Pat took it upon themselves to make space for Mom in their home, and tried including Mom in their activities.

It turned out to be a six-month experiment which became progressively worse. By the time Mom was taken to a hospital in February, Mom was accusing Pat of spying on her, stealing her things, and hurting her. We knew from security cameras that none of it was true.

Mom ended up being in an assisted living facility after that. Pat’s feelings were hurt. He was upset, which upset Gina. Since that time, Gina has slowly cut off communications with Mom.

Labor used to be special for our family as we all prepared food and came together to celebrate. I wrote Mom on Labor Day. She was pretty sad and miserable, reporting that she’d not heard anything from any of her daughters. She knew a celebration was going on but nobody included her.

I passed that on to Gina. Gina replied, “If Mom apologizes to Pat for all those mean things she accused him of, I’ll welcome her back to our gatherings.”

I sent that on to Mom two days ago.

I’ve not heard anything back.

Trumpapalooza kicked off last night. As anticipated, it’s about how wonderful Trump thinks he is, the almost open acknowledgement that things aren’t going well in our nation, and Trump’s desperate attempt to win the election by bribing voters. In other words, it’s more Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!, an attempt to distract voters from what’s really happening.

Beyond all that, the event is about stroking Trump’s ego. He thinks he’s great, and all others need to bow down to him. If everyone was as great as him, we’d have a great nation is his basic message.

Yes, Trumpapalooza was short on logic, facts, and truth, depending on your point of view. If you want the national and international order disrupted, Trump is doing a great job. If you want a nation based on democratic principles and freedom and equality for all, he’s driving hard away from those principles. Either way, he’s having fun, golfing on the taxpayers’ dime, sending out ridiculous little AI-generated images and videos trying to convey himself as great, blustering at other nations and people with threats if they don’t do what he wants.

Your Trumpapalooza Quote of the Day:

After all that, I ended up with “The Stroke” by Billy Squier in my morning mental music stream.

“The Stroke” came out in 1981. The song is about the music business and the need for bands to stroke music exec egos while the execs must stroke the artists’ egos. Everyone is stroke someone to keep it all going.

Sample Lyrics

Better listen now
They said it ain’t no joke
Don’t let your conscience fail ya
Just do the stroke

Don’t ya take no chances
Keep your eye on top
Do your fancy dances
You can’t stop, you just

Stroke me, stroke me
(Stroke, stroke)
Stroke me, stroke me
(Stroke, stroke)

And that’s pretty much Trump. He does his silly dance and his fancy ‘word weave’. The rest of us know the weave as lie upon lie upon lie, but for Trump, it’s the dance.

May this day reward you with patience, happiness, and good health.

Cheers

6

Tuesday’s Theme Music — Smithereens!

Tuesday, September 1, 2025. Ashland, southern Oregon.

September arrived in Ashland, bringing colder weather. 58 F now, our projected high is 72 today with 72% chance of thunderstorms. Tomorrow is expected to top out at 60 F, with 98% chance of rain. So rain will come at last.

Meanwhile, most of the United States east of the Rockies to the Atlantic, north to Canada and south to the Gulf of Mexico, are enduring a heat wave

I’m a bit dispirited today. Another friend has prostate cancer. And Mom sent me a lengthy text last night. Another of my sisters, Lisa, took Mom new checks, along with a new tee-shirt and sweater. Mom told me that she felt chest pains yesterday and rested in bed. Also told me that it takes her three hours to get ready for bed. If true, that’s actually reduced from the three hours she required for several years. I was always astonished when visiting her and she would announce, “I need to get ready for bed.” She usually went to bed at midnight but began getting ready at 8:30.

Today, Mom texted me to ask, “Should I use my old checks to pay my rent?” I just went over that with her last Friday. So did two of my sisters.

Over in Iran, attacks began again as the war, begun in the winter, drags on toward autumn. I remember the days when Trump said the war was already over.

Instead, we have Trump offering a cartoonish AI-generated video of blowing up Kharg Island, declaring it’s “blown to smithereens”.

Like, wow. How old are you, grandpa? I know the expression but I’ve honestly don’t think I’ve heard it in years, maybe decades. It’s extremely bizarre to hear it said by an adult while discussing a war. I mean, it’s such a childish expression.

It’s a useful video for Trump, however. As part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!, Trump’s video has us wondering about his word choices and sanity, instead of dwelling on the continuing affordability crisis, or his lies, corruption, and general incompetence.

There are no reports that Kharg Island has been ‘blown to smithereens’. A US military official in fact said it was not targeted.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Yes, I’ve used that quote before. But it’s important, I think, to remember that when Trump was running for office in 2024, he blamed President Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris for bombs falling in the middle east — Gaza. He was arguing that the Biden administration had produced exactly the things he said a Trump presidency would prevent. Then he won, took office, and started war after claiming he would prevent wars, causing the inflation and rising prices which he claimed he would prevent.

Infuriating as hell.

Meanwhile, the Roberts Court said Trump could proceed building the Epstein ballroom. They avoided saying that it was legal for Trump to tear down a wing of the White House and start building something else without funds approved by Congress. That’s perfectly aligned with the weak principles of the Roberts Court. Equally, Roberts was part of the dissent, which is particularly laughable. He was basically bemoaning what the monster he helped create was doing.

Trump’s use of smithereens provoked My Neurons to bring up songs by the Smithereens. Among the songs in my morning mental music stream was “Only A Memory”. The 1988 song is about love, memory, loss, and history. As I have no love for Trump and wish he was history, it seems like a fine song for today.

I hope your spirits are high and your hopes are strong, and that you have the fortitude to overcome whatever is thrown your way.

Cheers

7

Saturday’s Theme Music – Talking

Saturday, August 29, 2026. Ashland, southern Oregon.

A chilly, cloudy morning. Rumors of rain are trickling around conversations. The sky is mostly blue, hazing toward white and gray as clouds collect. 58 F now, today’s high is expected to top out in the mid 70s.

I’m off to a late posting start because I instead wrote in the novel. Had been thinking about a series of scenes last night. Today, they were just there, so I sat and wrote three thousand words before I did anything except feed the cat.

Mom has responded to my texts about her house and accomplishments by first, thanking me. Her texts then devolved into complaints about how I’m her only child who will talk to her. Then she demanded that I come and visit her. She finished with complaints about the assisted living facility and staff and wished she ‘woke up dead’.

On to news, where it’s here we go again, on the hideous Trump merry-go-round.

A Salon headline kicked things off.

Pete Hegseth’s press crackdown smells like a coverup

Possible cover-ups are in line with the Trump and his administration’s standard functioning. Exhibits offered as evidence:

  • The Epstein files
  • White House ballroom
  • The Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool
  • Hush money to Stormy Daniels
  • USS Abraham Lincoln

Trump and his cabinet insist that everything is great, but they go through acrobatic gyrations whenever they’re challenged. Threats escalate fast on their end. They blame others and insult whomever questions them. They pull credentials, threaten to sue, bluster on social media, and give hostile interviews in which they insist they’re right and everyone else is wrong.

Meanwhile, Trump’s ideas of democracy, freedom, is fully on display. He clearly doesn’t think much of serving We the People. Just wants the power of the office. Nor does he care much about history, treaties, and laws.

Trump has now announced that he secured ‘majority US control’ of much of Venezuela’s oil reserves. This comes after Trump removed Venezuela’s president by force. We the People who pay attention to history remember how regions around the world evolved into dangerous and unstable regions because nations went in, established themselves as the de facto rulers, and then began plundering their national resources.

The United States has long moved toward away from these policies, pushing for democracy. Success is erratic because it’s a messy process, involving wealthy, power, and people. Additionally, the US continued to secretly use the military or CIA to kill. Trump, though, has escalated it, and is doing so blatantly, oblivious to how these policies affect world opinion of the US.

History has shown, these kind of moves often bite us in the ass. For evidence, just look how things have played out in Iran with US intervention.

Today’s theme music is “You Talk Too Much”. This was a hit for Joe Jones in the early 1960s. I was about five years old when I first started hearing it, I think. A popular song, it achieved a lot of air play. It was also song which Mom sang while doing things around the house. She would also sing it to my sisters and I when we were trying to ask her for something. Frankly, that was very irritating.

Sample Lyrics

You talk too much
You worry me to death
You talk too much
You even worry my pet

You just talk…
Talk too much

You talk about people
That you don’t know
You talk about people
Wherever you go

You just talk…
Talk too much

You talk about people
That you’ve never seen
You talk about people
You can make me scream

The Neurons plugged it into the morning mental music stream in honor of Donald Trump. He talks and texts, often before engaging any brain cells. This week after thinking he can change the name of Lake Ontario with the stroke of a pen, he went on to talk about changing the names of other places in like ways.

What Ding Dong Donnie doesn’t understand, either, is that by having the US flex its powers and just do things on whims, he encourages other strong-armed nations to do the same.

What’s funny, though, is how Ding Dong Donnie doesn’t see what he’s done to the world order. He thinks other nations are jealous of us. He was angry — and probably still is, as he is one who likes to indulge in deep sulking — when other nations refused to participant in his Trumped-up war on Iran. He didn’t understand and doesn’t see that he’s burned so many bridges which were carefully build through years of diplomacy, negotiations, and practices.

I correct myself: more than not understanding, Trump doesn’t care.

Trump’s legacy of ego and failures is stacking into one of the world’s ugliest historic periods. Meanwhile, I wish he would shut up. He’s become like a dog barking all night long without reason.

I wish you the best of the best days in every way which you and I can think of.

Cheers

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Sunday’s Theme Music — Beginning

Sunday, August 23, 2026. Ashland, southern Oregon.

We’re again fortunate to have ‘good’ weather. Sunshine, blue skies, 74 F now, 90 F later. Some rain would be nice. Through today, we’re at 7% of normal precipitation for the year. Seven.

My wife and I greet each other many mornings with, “What’s the news? He dead yet?”

Then we laugh and say, “I know he’s not or you would have shouting the news.”

You know, this is the only person in our lifetime together — over fifty years — that we have ever said such things about. And we never specify who we’re talking about. That’s. Not. Needed.

Mom is complaining about her relationships with her daughters. “Three of them live nearby and none of them will take me to my appointments. Which will only HASTEN my death anyway.”

My sister’s daughter, May, is going to visit Mom tomorrow. We’re interested in the after-visit report. Mom helped raise May, and she and Mom had a great relationship until about four years ago. Then Mom became so angry and bitter, complaining about so many things, May declared, “I can’t do that any longer. It’s just too much.” Which is the case with my sisters and the rest of their children. Mom just became too much. I’d seen that trend developing and told Mom over and over through the last several years that all she does is complain and scold, that she’s always angry and bitter. Once she said that her partner, Frank, had just told her the same thing.

Trump has big action happening in DC with the Freedom 250 Indycar Grand Prix. It’s all part of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! He’s just trying to distract all he can from how crappy things are going. Lots of corporations are going along with him. Retail sales are down, reflecting people’s challenges with the increasing affordability of living in the US. But corporations overall are doing well, with energy and technology companies doing particularly well.

So, yes, many corporations are all in for Trump’s Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! distractions. Hey, they’re getting theirs! Make hay while the sun shines! So what if the wealth gap continues to widen, if personal bankruptices are increasing, rural hospitals are closing, measles outbreaks are increasing, and the extreme weather gets worse? Corporation execs and shareholders are making money. Later, when the situation changes, they’ll contritely reduce prices, announcing ‘we’re all in this together’.

No. We’re not. They make that clear. They’re only in it together with us if it’s going to affect their profits, and then, they’ll only act under duress.

Today’s music emerges from my dream. I didn’t hear it in the dream but as I went through the night’s third dream, I suddenly heard Karen Carpenter singing “We’ve Only Just Begun”.

That could be an apt song for now, as far as the title’s sentiment. We’re about to go through some heavy duty loads with Donald Trump. He tried staying in power when he lost his bid for re-election, encouraging his supporters to resist the bona bide election results, encouraging them to ignore the law, resulting in death and destruction while widening the trust gap and polarizing the electorate. This year, he’s been working on trying to undermine the system.

Here’s the irony: Trump is cheerleading the nation’s 250th anniversary while simultaneously undermining the system that we’ve developed and improved for 250 years, the system which actually delivered him victory — twice.

Yet, Trump keeps whining and complaining about stolen elections without evidence. Is cutting much of the federal government in order to shift loads to states because of states’ rights. Meanwhile, he’s working hard to hollow out the states’ role in the national elections, basically usurping it so he can mold it as head of the executive branch of the federal government. It’s such a naked, wanton, power grab.

Trump is doing it because he’s a failure. His policies are failures, and people are awakening to this. His only way to get ahead, as always, is to lie, cheat, and steal.

So get ready: we’ve only just begun.

May your day begin with love and happiness and end on a high note.

Cheers

7

Three Dreams Last Night

I can recall having three dreams last night.

One of them is barely recalled. It’s one of those episodic dreams I sometimes have, where there’s no one who I recognize as me. It’s just a story being told, like a television show.

I remember just part of a second one. Three other men and I were traveling together in an early 1960s something Cadillac convertible. We drove through sunshine with the top down. I was very impressed for some reason that there were four of us, two blacks and two whites. I believe we took turns driving.

We wore a uniform, and I knew we were on the same team but have no idea what team. From what I remember of the uniforms, they were white with dazzling embroidery, like something Elvis Presley would wear in concert.

Hungry, we stopped at a place where we decided we would pretend to be lawyers. We thought that ruse would gain us some food because we didn’t have any money. That didn’t seem to work so we drove cheerfully on through a winding orange canyon to another town.

We decided this time to claim that we were reporters. Women were running this place. One large, barrel-chested blonde woman was in charge. She mocked our claim that we were reporters, but they fed us anyway.

Dream end

Third dream involved family and food. I was with my sisters at some gathering at someone’s home. We were outside for most of the dream, where, weirdly, my sisters were baking. Besides them, there were many children. I barely knew most of them and didn’t recognize them from real life.

I needed an engine for some reason and ended up with a V8 engine with headers, a high rise manifold with a single four-barrel carb. The engine block was painted bright blue, and the air filter cover was chrome plated. After I got the engine, I realized, “I don’t need this.” But I wanted to save it. So I picked it up and put it in one of the rooms. I thought, I’ll leave that here for now but I’ll need to move it later.

My sisters and I talked a little politics. Then one announced, it’s time to eat. We got trays and loaded them up.

As I did, I went to cross the patio. Four tiny, perfect silver and black tabby kittens were playing. They’d found something and pounced on it, batting whatever it was with furious energy. I swear, these kittens were no more than three inches long.

My older sister asked me what I was doing and I showed her the kittens. She watched with me a bit, then I moved the kittens so they’d be safe.

The children and I decided to watch television. I wanted to watch football. I knew it was Sunday and games should be on, because of the time. No games were on, confusing me. I did the math: back home, the games start at 10 AM and it was almost 1 here, so there should have been a game on.

I went back to eat more cookies. My youngest sister was still baking. I walked along long tables mounded with food and wondered, laughing, why is she baking more? I ate a few cookies, which was delicious.

One brother-in-law, the Trump-loving one, was present, stretched out on a dark-brown sofa, talking. I wanted to hear what he said, but a plastic cocoon formed over him, sealing him in. I could hear him still talking but it was only a rumble of sound, and couldn’t see him at all.

Getting another cookie and eating it, my little sister demanded in her ominous ‘mom-voice’, “What are you doing?”

Laughing, I replied, “Eating a cookie? Why are you making more? Do you know you how many cookies there are?”

I saw her move the V8 engine which I’d move. I went over and picked it up to take it away, but then didn’t know where to take it.

Dream end.

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Thursday’s Theme Music — Little Things

Ashland, southern Oregon. Thursday, August 20, 2026.

Buckle up: supposed to be hot today, 100F. High small puffy clouds dot the blue sky. The sun feels like someone turned it up to eleven. Although it’s only 71, the ‘feels like’ is 85 F.

Spent time this morning on Watch Duty reviewing the state of wildfires in Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Nevada, and California. A depressing exercise.

Still waiting for Mom’s house to close. Gina, my sister who now oversee Mom’s finances, was complaining about how much Mom spent on Amazon on lipstick, diapers, clothes, shoe polish, and other things. Gina wanted me to tell Mom about how much money Gina thought Mom is wasting.

I said no. Not doing it. Bought Mom an Amazon gift card instead, to help her with these expenses. Mom doesn’t have much of a life these days, and now you’re pressing to nickel and dime her?

We’re into some deep WTF territory with Trump this week as he went on about flagpoles.

To be fair, his flagpole riff seemed a lot like his grass riff. He does love to declare himself an expert, knowing more than anyone, about many things.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Trump did pay $100K for these flagpoles last year. But then the servant of We the People could afford it, as he raked in $3B for his first year in office. 100K/3,000,000K = .003%

Trump is so generous, right? Especially since We the People paid about $100M for Trump’s golfing in 2025.

Trump’s gift of ‘most magnificent’ flagpoles and flags celebrated at the White House

I label the flagpoles another cheap installment of Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL! Trump bloviates about flagpoles as gas prices climb again. Diesel prices have jumped 15 cents to $5.47 per gallon, which adds to the cost of transporting just about everything.

But do please tell us more about the shape of your flagpole, Donald Trump.

People should know Trump is saying these things and quit treating him like he’s stable or a genius. He’s a criminal, head of a criminal enterprise. They need to wake up to that but probably won’t until Trump steals them blind.

All these things — big and little — Trump does stack up into one large mess.

I ended up with “Little Things” by Bush in my morning mental music stream. Released in 1995, it was all about how little things add up to dwarf your sense of self and what is possible.

Sample Lyrics

The river is loaded, I’ve been there today
Took it some questions, she does me again
I’d die in your arms if you were dead too
Here comes a lie, we will always be true

Going up when coming down
Scratch away-way-way-way-way

It’s the little things that kill
Tearin’ at my brain again
Oh, the little things that kill
The little things that kill

Bigger you give, bigger you get
We’re boss at denial but best at forget
The cupboard is empty, we really need food
Summer is winter and you always knew

Going up when coming down
Scratch away-way-way-way-way

It’s the little things that kill
Tearin’ at my brains again
Oh, the little things that kill
Tearin’ at my brains again

Yeah, it’s the little things that kill. Trump — and more importantly, the masterminds behind him, Heritage Foundation and Project 2025 — knows this.

May you surmount the little things with peace and grace today and every day.

Cheers

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Monday’s Theme Music – Cracking Up

Ashland, southern Oregon. Monday, August 10, 2026.

Our August cooling trend continues. Today we’ll see low 90s with blue skies and sunshine in our valley. Last night saw the temperature fall to 58 F in our area. I had to go around closing windows to keep the house from getting too cold. Poor us, right?

Mom and Gina, my sister and Mom’s Power of Attorney, continue their cold war. I don’t think peace will come again, a change from how I was viewing it. Something about the conflict has triggered both, hardening their attitudes. Each instantly react angrily. Invectives and accusations fly.

Got Food & Friends deliveries today, along with a medical appointment this afternoon, so it’s another brief post. Somehow, most of my reading ended up being about Trump and the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool. The story reminds us that Trump first claimed how resilient the fix he installed was.

“In May, for example, Trump said the lining was “so strong, so powerful” that it couldn’t be cut with a knife. He even drove his motorcade across it while it was being installed to inspect the work.”

Then, somehow, a vandal or group with knives managed to cut and tear that ‘so strong, so powerful’ lining.

Next, Trump was making claims about the evidence of this vandalism:

“We have photographs, or tapes,” he said, making a circular gesture with his hands. After a pause, he pointed to the cameras recording him and added: “Like moving cameras, right?”

Except, oh no, after Jeanine Pirro announced that they were dropping prosecution of the one vandal they’d arrested, Trump now claims there is no evidence:

“There was substantial other damage to the Reflecting Pool, also but, unfortunately, there is no video or proof, other than the damage, itself,” Trump wrote on Truth Social on Sunday. 

Anyone following the story knows the truth and has seen the evidence: the one who screwed up the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool is Trump. And the one lying about it is also Trump.

The thing is, too, as it’s been often noted, the cover up is frequently worse than the crime. If Trump had just let it go, admitted he made a mistake, or anything like that, it would have already disappeared as a story. Instead, Trump dug in, refuse the facts and the truth, and made it worse.

But that’s Trump: lying, then lying about his lies, digging deeper and deeper holes. Did it with the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool; tariffs and the economy; the Epstein files; and the war he began with Iran.

A little over a year ago, I used the song “Basket Case” by Green Day as the day’s theme music. Trump has just attacked Iran for the first time. At that time, I wondered if June 21, 2025 and the attacks on that day would go down as the day that World War III quietly began?

Trump declared that mission enormously successful.

Trump says US ‘completely and totally obliterated’ nuclear facilities in Iran

Three days later, he walked back those claims. February of this year, he attacked Iran again. And the war has been going ever since, off and on, widening and creating death and destruction. Time and again, Trump gives different reasons for that war, not calling it a war to avoid being held in check, and has claimed different levels of results and success.

And that is why “Basket Case” is playing in the morning mental music stream today — again.

Sample Lyrics:

Do you have the time to listen to me whine?
About nothing and everything, all at once
I am one of those melodramatic fools
Neurotic to the bone, no doubt about it

Sometimes I give myself the creeps
Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me
It all keeps adding up
I think I’m cracking up
Am I just paranoid or am I just stoned?

Papi has settled in for the day. He’s ready for a day of relaxation. Hope you are, too.

Cheers

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