Sunshine and blue skies are beckoning me out in Ashlandia today. Supposed to be 78 F today, but it’s gonna have to climb from its current 52 F. Feels like the local weather has it in it to do so, though.
This is Wenzda, May 21, 2025. May is splitting past me faster than forked lightening. I’m astonished by its speed. They tell me that time goes faster for you as you age. If I reach 80, I’m be blinking away in the morning and getting ready for bed at the same time. Maybe it’ll just feel like it is.
I’m in a very good mood today. Don’t know what nutrition and hormones and factors out of my dream network and thinking network brought me to this zenith of eagerness and satisfaction. It’s a periodic thing, though. I wrote almost the same words not a few months ago. How the world seems like it’s getting thrown into the garbage disposal and the water is on and the switch is about to be thrown, taking many good things down the drain and into the past. I hear of Trump’s “Big Beautiful Bill” and I just want to puke with disgust and anger, yet here I am, with high spirits and happiness. Probably a high from editing myself. Reading the novel again to fix what’s wrong, I’m happy and pleased. I wrote what I like to read, and I’m enjoying it. Just like that, it’s all about me. Really is a surreal existence.
Today’s music is a ZZ Top cover. Isaac Hayes and Dave Porter wrote it. Sam and Dave recorded and released it. Then along came ZZ Top with their version of “I Thank You.” I do like ZZ’s version best; it just better suits my sensibilities. Why the song has settled into my morning mental music stream is only The Neurons to know. I’ve been reading about recent research on dreams and how they’re made. I was interested because I dream a lot. They speculate now that it’s a network working together using many more functions than originally guessed, and not housed in one specific place, like the hippocampi. Reading that, I wondered if some similar network worked to produce the songs that land in my morning mental music stream.
Going to the music, I’ll give you Sam and Dave and ZZ Top’s offerings, because we all don’t have the same musical tastebuds. Both are terrific.
Coffee is lifting me higher. I’m ready for another day, at least for the moment. Hope you have a great one. Here we go.
This is Twosda, May 20, 2025. Weather here is more of the same. 53 F now, with moderate to light clouds rolling through, going up to 70 F today. No rain expected, but it’s breezy. Sunshine has lifted us to 64 F. Papi is out there, asnooze is his favorite shelter, hidden from casual scrutiny but sufficiently exposed that he can enjoy the weather.
Mom’s tale from Pittsburgh is unsettling. Today she didn’t get out of bed. She told my sister she couldn’t walk due to her sciatica. Sis, being a physical therapist, provided Mom with exercises to alleviate the sciatica. Mom was doing them when sis left.
One, so glad that sister is there, that she’s strong and intelligent. She of the three sisters in the area has been doing the heavy lifting with Mom. She’s not the oldest or youngest child. And she bridles at many of the things she endured while she grew up. But she’s stood up again and again to take care of Mom. She’s also married to a man who is in construction. Thanks to him, things have been organized and accomplished fast. I’m so grateful to both.
Mom told sis today that Mom thinks she needs a wheelchair. My heart fell like a sinkhole when I read that text. Mom was pretty athletic and loved to dance, and loved her independence. It’s all eroding from her. Her house isn’t conducive to a wheelchair, either.
Fortunately, a little serendepity paid off. My BIL’s customer had just offered him an almost new wheelchair. As soon as Mom said that, sis texted her husband. Two hours later, Mom had a wheelchair. Mom declared it perfect.
All the fallen trees at Mom’s have been cut up, collected, piled up and offered to the world free of charge. People have been driving over and picking it up. Sis was behind that, too.
Here’s photos from Mom’s house in Pittsburgh, PA, May 19, 2025. Top set are after the wood has been cut and picked up. The windstorm was April 29, 2025.
Today’s song is Trump inspired. “Behind Blue Eyes” is a 1971 release by The Who. The Neurons brought it up as I read things that Trump said and did. I was thinking, “What is going on in that head of his?” I don’t think anyone knows. One example came via MSN and the Irish Star today.
After announcing the plan to build a $175 billion ‘Golden Dome’ to press in the White House’s Oval Office on Thursday, Trump directed everyone to look at the portraits around his desk. He named the first two Presidents no problem, but then began to stutter when he got to Monroe.
After announcing the plan to build a $175 billion ‘Golden Dome’ to press in the White House’s Oval Office on Thursday, Trump directed everyone to look at the portraits around his desk. He named the first two Presidents no problem, but then began to stutter when he got to Monroe.
This is just one recent example from what happened in public. What’s going on in private?
I think it’s a mess privately. As the Trump Regime loves to project, and their early reaction to news of President Biden’s cancer was to quickly propose, “Was there a coverup,” I think there’s a big coverup going on in the Trump White House.
These lyrics seem to perfectly capture Trump: he seems fated to telling only lies.
Well, writing is done, coffee is done, lunch is over. Time to change clothes and get out there and do something in the yard. Don’t yet know what. Have a satisfying Twosda. Cheers
Greetings from Ashlandia to all you Mundaheads. Yes, we’ve reached another Munda milestone in our mostly mundane lives. I’m speaking for myself, of course. I’m sure none of the rest of you deal with a Mundane Munda.
The weather here is mundane, sunshine with clouds, blue skies, and the sometimes drizzle. Out looking for spring last night, Papi, our ginger housefloof, was wet every time he re-entered the house following a nocturnal patrol. I never heard any rain. I assumed Papi was dashing through sprinklers. When I got up, though, I saw that, yeah, it had rained through the night. We’re still looking at a taste of the low 70s F today and an overnight low in the upper 40s. This week promises more time bouncing through rainshine.
Cleaning the garage and taking away the trash yesterday brought an expanse of free time to silently think. I used to do these sort of tasks with a boom box playing. I don’t bring out the boom box any longer. Boom boxes were so ubiquitous last century but I haven’t seen anyone using one for years, it feels like. So my work was done in silence. I didn’t mind the silence, as I practiced fiction writing in my head, a feat which always intoxicates my muses and brings them back to give me more.
The other thing from yesterday was the lack of floofervision. I used to share floofmeciles with several cats. Most were active floofervisors, there to help me open boxes and study the contents. Papi was more of the laissez floof management style. He showed up to see what I was doing and ensure nothing to eat was there but usually left with only a short comment. There was a time when the likes of Jade, Tucker, and Quinn would be stamping things with their paw of approval. Sort of missed that but at the same time, less interruptions to move animals were needed.
Politic news again had me GRRRRRRRRRRRing over my morning coffee. I read that the Roberts Court is allowing the Trump Regime to remove protections for Venezuelan refugees while it’s still being contested in court. A lower court had stopped the deportations and kept protections in place. Trump disliked them because, you know, President Joe Biden had extended those protections. Trump’s regime argued that the protections were not in the nation’s best interests and undermined national security. Therefore, the protections should be removed so the Venezuelans could be shipped out of the United States. Reading that, I thought, “Trump’s actions aren’t in the nation’s best interests and undermine national security. Can’t we depart him?” Then I sipped some coffee and smiled.
Another of my friends took the pledge. She wrote on FB: “I’m done posting shit about the clown. I’m just so sick of his garbage. Im sick of the clowns in Washington too afraid to stick up for the American people, their constituents or just filling their coffers with bribes from the orange clown and his fellow billionaires with the goals of killing off the poor, I’m just sorry for the folks who voted for him and will now have all of their programs and help cut.
“So I’m done. No more. I know what I know and see and read. And hopefully someone will have the balls to throw the garbage out”
We know who she means: PINO Trump. I feel her. He’s only interested in enriching himself and his family, as long as they are also going along with him.
Today’s music came during my work yesterday. As is often the case, The Neurons started song based on something they observed or perhaps a fragment of thought or a fleeting memory. They act on it, and music arrives in the mental music stream. In this case, it was a 1980 song by REO Speedwagon, “Keep On Loving You”. Why in the world did The Neurons snag this song while I was cleaning the garage and cars, etc? I don’t know. It remains in the morning mental music stream, though. Freeing myself of it requires me to offer it to the general public. So here it is, from my head to my computer to the internet to your computer (or other electronic device) and then into your head. Isn’t technology amazing?
Well, that’s the morning stuff. Coffee has been loaded and stored in my energy cells. Now I’m ready to get ‘er done. Pitter patter, here we go — again. Cheers
Rain took its drops and went elsewhere. Though clouds stayed, sunshine rushed in. A swirly, restless day was had. Hot in direct sun, chilly in shadow when the wind played. We did see 66 F at our house. Now it’s dropping, expecting to stoop to the 40s overnight. Tomorrow, we’ll do it again.
For the record, this is Sunda, Mai 18, 2025.
I’ve been busy all day. This was the culmination of a cleaning project. Ashlandia and Recology were taking in trash and electronics free of charge this weekend at the transfer station. This inspired my wife and I to declare we’ll do some cleanup and rid ourselves of unused and broken old items. Beginning Twosda, I pulled, cleaned, inspected, and decided on what to do with stuff which we’d accumulated and didn’t seem to be using. I consulted with my wife as necessary. Like, we have three big boxes of china. It’s a formal dinnerware setting for twelve, acquired in Germany over a period fro 1988 to 1991. We’ve probably used them a half dozen times, and not any time in the last decade. Much of it was awarded to me as prizes in monthly, quarterly, and annual competitions at a base or specific units. Mikasa was one of the sponsors and would often give gift certificates. My wife used ones I won to buy china. No, we didn’t pitch the china. We put it aside to give to a friend who will take it to a charity boutique. A few times a year they have a big sale and include things like china. Proceeds help offset people’s cost for hospice.
My wife’s health kept her sidelined during Operation Cleanup. But I enjoyed the solitary work. While I put in a couple hours every day after writing, today was the load up and drop off. The SUV was backed up and configured. Loading began at 10:15. By 11:30, I was ready for the dump trip. I hit the line at 11:45 and inched the vehicle to the gate at 12:30. They directed me to trash and electronics, which covered my contributions. By 1 PM, I was back home.
Then I cleaned clean the car and reconfigured its seating and all that, and cleaned the garage and rearranged things to be more organized and take advantage of the cleared space. I just finished that at 6 PM. I sweated a few buckets today, and my feet are singing about their unhappiness like a bunch of hounds with the blues. I’m taking advantage of this time to post before I make my dinner.
Today’s song turned out to be “On A Carousel” by the Hollies. They released it in the 1960s. It’s a song about love and the up and down ride you’re on when you’re in love. I was using it to think about Trump. We’re going around and around with him as he whines about the judicial system and courts, ignores the Constitution, threatens anyone who disagrees with him, and then acts like an idiot who mated a jackass. Guess that would be a idioass or a jackiot. Did you hear about him and his video where he’s supposed to be playing “Don’t Stop Believin'” by Journey in concert? His connections with reality frays more every hour. His supporters don’s seem much better. Guess they’re holding on to their dreams.
Once again, it’s Mai 17, 2025. This time, it’s Saturda. It was a rainy night and a drenched morning in Ashlandia. Irritated me a bit. What’s new? I’m often irritated. In this instance, I’ve been cleaning the garage and had stuff outside and was out of time/energy/daylight. So I asked Alexa, “Will it rain?” They responded with comments about clouds and temperatures. My wife and I asked the machine point blank three times. Same answer each time.
Two hours later, Alexa has a notification for me: it’s going to rain soon. Like, WTF? Shoes and suitable clothes donned, I went outside to rearrange things and cover them with tarps. Yes, I was irritated.
It’s warmer and sunny now, but don’t look for too much heat in Ashlandia today. 55 F and cloudy, the high end of the scale will read 61 before it starts dropping again.
Meantime, when I went to relax with some streaming last night, Prime was no longer available. That WTF moment led to a WTF hour of testing, uninstalling, re-installing, researching, etc. Nothing fixed it, and I could not find information about a greater trend or problem among the masses. No, it seemed to be me alone. No, I could not fix it. Several background pieces: I used Roku to stream television in several rooms. Prime was received fine on those Rokus. Yes, Roku was updated. Yes, the Prime app was updated. Yes, the Internet connection was solid. No, an outage for Prime wasn’t reported. Yes, I rebooted the system. Yes, I uninstalled and reinstalled Prime. Many others have been through this fiasco in the past. Most report nothing worked but the system mysteriously and abruptly returned to normal on its own. I’ll see if that’s the case with us later today. I recognize that this is basically first world blues.
Several songs challenged for supremacy in the morning mental music stream. First, another blogger wrote about a song Connie Francis sang. That inspired The Neurons to shift another Connie Francis song, “Stupid Cupid”, from 1959, into the morning mental music stream. I was three when it came out but Mom played it regularly on her stereo, so I knew it pretty well.
Next, inexplicably, The Neurons introduced “I’m Gonna Sit Right Down and Write Myself a Letter“, a song which was released the year before Mom was born. It’s been covered by so many singers and acts. The Neurons sampled several before settling on an old favorite by Willy Nelson.
Dropping into the day’s rhythm, though, reading the news, I ended up with Teddy Swims performing “Bad Dreams”. That song was raised because of Trumpgames. PINO Trump is warning a business, Walmart’s, not to pass on the costs to consumers. “President Donald Trump warned Walmart on Saturday against raising its prices, writing on Truth Social that he will “be watching.” Because, you know, Trump knows that high prices are bad for business, but they’re worse for him because he triggered this unneeded trade war. So his solution to higher prices is to tell corporations to tell their shareholders and employees to tighten their belts for the good of Donald Trump. That’s what it comes down to. He raised the prices and he doesn’t want to face the consequences for what he’s done. As always, he wants to dodge the truth and avoid responsibility. It’s one of his standard routines. It’ll be interesting to see what happens with Walmart and their prices, given that Walmart and the Walton family, support Trump and the GOP.
Two, of course, Trump’s warning contradicts how he sold tariffs as a tax which other countries paid.
“She is a liar. She makes up crap … I am going to put tariffs on other countries coming into our country, and that has nothing to do with taxes to us. That is a tax on another country,” Trump said.
So riddle me this, PINO Trump and MAGA: if another country pays the tariff, why is PINO Trump warning Walmart not to raise prices to cover the tariffs?
Well, we know why. It was Trump lying when he accused Vice-President Harris of lying. That is his way.
The other aspect of Trump’s recent craziness is his roll on the new “F55 fighter.” He mentioned the aircraft during talks in Qatar. As with many things Trump says, this is from another reality. No one else was aware of a proposed “F55”. Nor did anyone know about the F22 Super which Trump referenced. Yes, it’s all bad dreams when leaders skid off into surreal rants about things which don’t exist. Trump does so often. That’s why it’s rich bad dreams materials. Who know what the nutter will say next? What was pretty funny was how right-wing leaning media sources touted this as absolutely true, despite baffled defense industry experts. They either never learn, or these media sites are actively promoting lies as facts in order to support Trump. Yeah, no shit, right?
Here we go: Teddy Swims with “Bad Dreams” from 2024.
I’ve cozied up to a cuppa coffee once again. Time to rock and roll, kids. Cheers
Frida, Mai 16, 2025, has evolved as warmer and cloudier in Ashlandia. Noon has slipped past. The temperature has incremented to 67 F degrees and follows a trajectory to lick 71 F. Pervasive sunshine has everyone reaching for sunglasses. Papi, the ginger blade, went to the back early and settled into a sunny spot for a needed nap. A swirly day, sometimes I find myself sweating in full, still sunshine. Moments later, wind muscles in and goose bumps rise from its chill.
As we watch Trumpivision, it’s clear he hit the Mideast trial to cover the gaps his tariffs and behavior generated. After treaties and agreements were trampled underfoot by Trump, China and European allies cancelled aircraft deals and turned off shipping as part of a slowdown generated by broken trust, high prices, and tit-for-tat. Trump’s team said, “Hit the mideast. They’ll buy the stuff the rest of the world is turning their backs on.” This is an extension of the Trump Regime’s willingness to sell access to Trump. It’s cash register diplomacy at its worse.
While there, Trump gave speeches which fortified impressions that he’s aging and his mind is going. Coupled with his shallow thinking, greed, and standard rants about how badly he’s treated, it was an ugly spectacle.
Today’s music comes from encouragement from self to self to get up and start doing things. I often tell myself at those moments, time to rock and roll. The Neurons instantly hoisted Led Zeppelin’s classic offering, “Rock and Roll”, into the morning mental music stream. I found a video I enjoyed of the song being performed live. This was during a Foo Fighters concert. Dave Grohl, the band’s leader, founder, and usual vocalist, took to the drums, a position he held with Nirvana. The drummer, the late Taylor Hawkins, took up the mic. Guest performers from Led Zeppelin, Jimmy Page and John Paul Jones, joined them. Pretty fun concert presentation, if you ask me.
I’m already in the coffee shop, indulging my daily writing and coffee fixes. I spoke with a barista about the strike held the other day. She told me the article about it was shared on the business’s Facebook page. “You wouldn’t believe the hateful comments that have been made,” she said. “I had to remind myself that I’m an employee and not respond to them.” I expressed my support for what they were doing, adding, “Those haters can go to hell.”
It’s Thirstda, Mai 15, 2025. The weather flipped last night as a cold front jumped into the Ashlandia area. Gone is the rain. Blue sky and sunshine fill the vacated space. That translates to a cold but clear night and day, but one that gives the sun permission to warm us. 68 F is our suspected high for the day. For now, it’s 55 F.
Papi has mixed feelings about it. He’s, “No rain, yea!” But, “Cold air, boo, hiss.” Then he adds, “Sunshine, yea!” He searches for a warm and sunny spot in the backyard. Then he comes into the house and yells for treats and attention. He’s such a sweet-chirping cute floof, our wills melt like ice cubes in hot coffee, and we do as he requests.
Starbucks, where I usually write, was closed yesterday. I found out this morning that it was due to a strike. I support them. They can strike as much as needed to gain contracts and improve their conditions. Meantime, we have other coffee shops in Ashlandia. I went to Roco and staked out a place and did my writing thing, as needed.
Another coffee shop is across the street from Starbucks. I like their products but their space doesn’t work for my writing needs. They supported the SB strikers by giving them coffee. How cool is that?
Today’s music is an old favorite by the late Gary Moore. Seeing sunshine and blue skies, The Neurons fed the song, “Still Got the Blues (for You)” into my morning mental music scene. Yes, despite better weather, the blues still weigh me down. Part of this is due to Mom. She’s become such a bitter and angry person that nobody wants to spend any time with her. She can’t see her own part in her isolation, instead blaming everyone else. I believe she needs counseling to help her deal with longtime issues. She fixates on things and never lets anything go. Her history of what happened when is at huge odds with everyone else involved. Suggesting she needs therapy, though, just sends her into a greater rage and accusations that everybody hates her.
Other part of the blues is all about the political thing. It’s amazing that progress begun over two hundred years ago is getting shredded by one megalomaniac backed by right wingers. That they’re quite willing to do whatever is necessary to break down the foundations of individual freedoms and democracy to gain power for themselves, including wreck the world economy and the planet’s environment. Empathy is not in their wheelhouse. Lust for greed and power dominates their intentions. So, yeah, I’ve got the blues.
Despite the blues, I have plans. They begin with coffee. I can check that off my list of things to do for today. Have the best day you can. Cheers
Wenzda, Mai 14, 2025, is Grayda in Ashland. Gray hangs over us with gravity’s weight. Sunshine comes in and leaves quick. No rain is expected, but neither was Grayda. This is Ashlandia. We’re supposed to be basking in warmth. It has risen to 56 F. 61 F is on the menu. All these gray clouds do something to my mood. Their impact is much different if its over a crashing sea, but that scene is a coupla hundred miles away.
Today’s tune was brought to me by nature. Nature; when you want the very best.
I was out looking for pollinators. My wife and I are down. “I’ve seen one fat bumble bee,” she said, “and one dragonfly, and a looper, but that’s not really a butterfly. So I haven’t seen any butterflies.”
I recounted my count: two bees, no dragonflies, butterflies, wasps, hornets, or hummingbirds. Even the birds are frequenting our area less. We’re used to being a buzzbox of activity. This non-activity disconcerts and worries us.
Papi was with me during my pollinator watch. “Where are the butterflies?” I asked him. He rolled around on his back on the patio cement, his eyes scrunched closed and his paws working the air.
A dog barked. Papi flipped over and studied the area, his ears finetuning themselves to the dog’s position. Not in the backyard, which is fenced. And it wasn’t either of his mortal enemies, the dog to the east, or the wicked dog to the north, Cowdog.
And then, “Dog & Butterfly” by Heart started in the morning mental music stream. The Neurons’ thinking was clear in this instance. That’s often rare so I appreciated the linear clarity.
“I’m going back in, Papi,” I said. Papi yawned and stretched. A jay came to the yard and conversed. I closed the door on the scene.
Ann Wilson said about “Dog & Butterfly”, “This, like a log of songs, came from something iteral and changed to something more poetic. I was upstairs in my music room waiting for my muse. It doesn’t always happen on cue but, in hindsight, it did this time. I looked out of my window and saw the dog chasing a butterfly. He wouldn’t give up; he just kept chasing that butterfly. I thought it was impossible, yet he kept on going. The chase took on another meaning for me. Like so much in life, the spirit is undaunted, you keep going after it.
“Many people have said that it is that thought in this song that has helped them through rough times. When they’re up against the wall I life, thy could refer back to it and keep going.
“Nancy (Wilson) and I, as Heart, were new at the time in 1978 or so, and this became our personal theme song as well. Now if we don’t play it in our set, people are disappointed.” h/t to Wikipedia.org.
I think it’s a good day to help push through graydas. Sometimes these days in Trumpland feel gray and heavy despite the sunshine. I turn to music to help get through. Do what’s needed, without doing yourself harm.
Coffee has been consumed. Here we go again. Three…two…one…
The rain has been paused. So has the warmth. Sunshine skips between the cloud breaks but doesn’t do much for the temp. Twosda, Mai 13, 2025, is a cold pizza day, 53 F now with a high that will take us five degrees higher.
Your daily reminder of how Trump is gutting the United States legal system and corrupting our nation.
Today’s music has me more puzzled than ever. I don’t know what nudged The Neurons to spark my morning mental music stream with Roxette and “Joyride” from 1991. I barely recall the song and it required some deep coffee sipping to bring out the name and title from the lyric and tune playing in my head. After searching the net, I was filled in with deeper memories of the song. I think I first heard in it in Europe. I started 1991 there and then arrived back in the US after a four-year tour of Germany. None of that explains what inspired The Neurons, though. Perhaps, with more coffee, the truth will emerge. I’ll drink more coffee and let you know if it does.
Coffee is flowing through my established routes. Writing is planned, along with editing. Don’t know which of the two will have more of my attention. Have a better one. Cheers
When it rained, it poured. Ashlandia found itself in rain’s thrall this morning, Munda, Mai 12, 2025. Our usual rounds of complaints and hopes were expressed: rain is good, but so is sunshine, and the cisterns and reservoirs are full. It is nice to put done to the drought and have wet land and vegetation again. And soon, we remind each other, the sun will be turned on full and we’ll be drenched in sunny heat and triple digit temperatures. In other words, shut your mouth and enjoy what you got, we Ashlandplain to one another.
Temperature is 50 F. Mostly cloudy. Drying. Visibility has improved. Low clouds were embracing the ridge tops, bringing to mind the Allegheny Mountains in Western Pennsylvania, Eiffel Mountains in Germany, and the mountain ranges of South Korea. Now the cloud ceiling has lifted, but sunshine is still rationed like the last gallon of water. Ashlandia’s high will kiss 58 F.
Papi is not of a mind to enjoy the rain. He came into the house about dark rain thirty, yelling for company, food, and a towel. After testing the weather for half of the morning, he found a comfort zone on a bed and made it his temporary home.
Now, hey, look, sunshine has burst out on us.
Trumpland Munda has given us another mind-boggling start to the week. There’s his ‘big deal’ with China. Trump says he’s lowered the tariffs and made the greatest deal in the world; China says, “It’s a good first step.” Trump is actually undoing some of the mess he created. That brainless child called the stock markets responded with the giddy joy of a child being given a huge bag of their favorite sweets. Meanwhile, since it’s Trump, he could renege tomorrow. It’s also only temporary at this point, a pause, not a cancellation. Or it could just be another distraction, part of his long con.
Trump’s Regime is arguing that its plans to lay off, fire, or terminate government employees should not be released to the public. Why, you might ask. Well, of course for the best reason of all: it could cause “embarrassment” or “annoyance” for the Trump Regime. So what if it’s completely disrupting millions of lives? Woo boy, that administration embarrassment or annoyance is a powerful, powerful reason. Yes, that was snark, since you asked.
The week’s forecast calls for more chaos, lies, and bullshit in Trumpland.
Today’s music is “Pink Pony Club” by Chappell Roan. This song came out in 2020 and was re-released in 2023. Now, suddenly, we’re hearing it all the time. Wikipedia labels it, “a pop, synth-pop, dance-pop, power pop, disco-pop, and disco track that describes the story of a woman moving to Southern California from her home residence of Tennessee, taking a job as a dancer in a gay club in West Hollywood despite her mother’s wishes.”
When my wife and I were on vacation on the Oregon Coast recently, this song came on whenever the radio was clicked on. Same thing happened today when we did our Food & Friends delivery. Not my style of music but its melody has gotten snarled in My Neuron’s morning mental music stream, and I can’t get it out. The best tactic in these situations is to share the song with others. That somehow loosens its hold on my brain.
The song has brought Chappell Roan significant commercial success and recognition. More importantly, in interviews, she talks about how freeing writing and performing the song was for her. She never felt like she belonged in her hometown. Creating this song empowered her. Congratulations to her. I hope she enjoys more success.
Michael Seidel, writer 