Monday’s Theme Music

Mood:

Hello, fellow travelers. Today is Monday, July 29, 2024. It’s a morning of 7s: 67 degrees F now, high of 87 F later, and the air quality index is at 57 (moderate). Sky looks good from my windows, bluer than Paul Newman’s eyes and just as clear and bright. Cool draughts slip in through windows to flush the warmth of me. I’m diggin’ it.

This cool period has been great but it’s ending. Tomorrow’s high jumps into the 90s. That’s a springboard to a high of 102 on Wednesday. But then, it’s expected to settle in highs in the 90s range for a period in Ashlandia, where the beer is locally brewed and above average.

There are 100 days until the 2024 elections. Time for some people to finally pay attention to the contenders. Time to get off the fence.

In one corner, we have Don Old Trump. His speeches are alphabet soup with less structure. He is the oldest presidential nominee in United States history.

He spoke highly of how the United States won the American Revolutionary War by capturing the airports, more than one hundred years before there were airports.

He insists that he won the 2020 election and that it was stolen from him. Despite over sixty lawsuits and multiple recounts, absolutely no evidence has ever been supplied to support that claim.

He promised to be a dictator on day one if he wins. He’s joking, he’s joking, his handlers and supporters crack.

He promised Christian voters that if he wins they won’t need to vote again. Doesn’t mean what you think, his handlers and supporters tell us, that’s his way of uniting people.

He also promised to get Roe v. Wade overturned, and he did manage that. So, yes, he is anti-abortion and anti-choice. His actions speak louder than any spin he attempts on the matter. He’s also suggested that he wants to use the justice system to get revenge on his political enemies. He and his party want to make every Federal employee take a loyalty oath to HIM. If they don’t sign, get rid of them.

He’s supported by a plethora of thinkers who believe the way forward is backwards. They back up their plans with a crazy document called Project 2025. Sure, it’s full of contradictions but its thrust is basic: only Christians should have rights but women should have less rights. As articulated by Don Old’s running mate, J.D. Weird Vance, women should be concerned about getting and staying pregnant, because that’s their function. Families should be rewarded for having more children by greater voting power and financial incentives.

Not mine; this meme was found and borrowed from the net, and was originally posted in my social media feeds by the Blue Dem Warriors. For those who might be upset by joking about the attempted assassination attempt, I’m doing as Don Old Trump suggested about a shooting to “get over it”.

Meanwhile, over on Democracy’s side, we have the Democrats, led by Vice President Kamala Harris. Number one, they don’t mention loyalty oaths. Or vengeance. Their platform should be released in conjunction with the Democratic National Convention, coming up soon.

The Neurons have Genesis performing “Throwing It All Away” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark vanquished). The 1986 soft rock song is about a disintegrating relationship but it has political roots in today’s presence. The idea behind both the failing relationship and politics is the same, though: the GOP is willing to throw it all away. Every advance made in the matters of freedom, equality, tolerance, diversity, and acceptance is being thrown away. They want it to be a Christian nation, and damn the facts.

Personally, I’ve always adhered to the ‘weakest link’ theory. This metaphor basically says that as a chain, the weakest link is the point of failure, and that as a nation, it’s the weakest aspect that will fail. Therefore, you find and fix the weakest links.

Well, the GOP wants to forge all links as white, male, and Christian. Other religions might be tolerated, so long as they’re not governing. One or two token females will be put into positions of power, as long as they’re not POTUS. Other races might be tolerated, as long as they’re not on equal standing to whites. The wealthy shall be protected, and the poor shall work.

And then, unironically, they want us to build together. Well, everyone knows you can’t build together when you’re busy tearing others down. Everyone but Republicans know. They’re extremely short-sighted. Probably ’cause of their misogyny, intolerance, sexism, and racism. Other than that, they’re probably very fine people *snark*.

Stay positive, be strong, stay hopeful, and rise. Vote Blue in 2024. I’ve had some coffee. Here we go, starting with the music. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Motionvated

Another day in Ashlandia, where the night temperatures are hanging round the fifties and the daytime highs take us to the upper eighties. Like today, we’re looking at 89 F. Air is clear, too for the time being. That can change with a wind shift. With so many fires, and several fast exploding across the landscape, I expect our air quality to dip.

As for the date, it’s Sunday, July 28, 2024. Almost time to put the month to bed.

Cats are okay. Wife is doing fine. I’m doing well. Olympics are dominating the news cycle. Trump snuck back in there with more of his anti- whatever stupidity. The man is anti so many things. The latest turn confirms that the guy who wants to be dictator on day one (ha, ha, remember that laugher) is also assuring Christians that if he wins, they won’t need to vote again. Ha, ha, so funny – not. It’s not a joke to his MAGA supporters; they say he tells it like it, that he speaks for them. So there it is, the MAGA GOP is against democracy. It’s been a growing trend in the GOP for the last quarter century.

Now it’s their brand.

Gotta song stuck in my head. I heard “St. Elmo’s Fire (Man in Motion)” on the radio yesterday, and it just excited The Neurons. Apparently enthralled by it, The Neurons have been playing the 1985 John Parr almost non-stop in the morning mental music stream (Trademark in motion). Sometimes they also include vignettes from the movie which featured the song, St. Elmo’s Fire. A Brat Pack film, I’ve never seen it. As several of the actors were also in The Breakfast Club, snippets out of that film also circulate in my head.

As far as the phenom known as St. Elmo’s fire, I’ve only seen it in museums and films. It fascinates me.

Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Keep democracy in America. I’ve had coffee. Now a little more is on the menu. Here’s the music. Feel free to sing along. My Neurons do. Cheers

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: soursmokeworn

Day has broken, smoky and sunny in Ashlandia, where the temperatur is 69 F. The smoke isn’t ours; it’s from one of the many fires burning in California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, or Canada. Or maybe somewhere else. Or all of them. While the election rushes on, the world turns, the heat increases, the planet dries, and catches fire. While the Olympics parade across our screens, typhoons, hurricanes, and storms take death and destruction to new levels. What isn’t on fire might be flooding, like down in Florida. Just take some time to check out the many ‘natural disasters’ that we’re either recovering from or enduring right now.

It’s Saturday, July 27, 2024. Too late to wake up. It’ll be 89 F in Ashlandia today, not too bad, so long as we don’t drive too far away.

Don’t know what was happening before the moment today when the jay flew in through the bedroom’s open sliding door. The bird landed on the stepping machine and let out a screech. Papi the ginger wonder bounded in after the bird, jumping up onto the bed and orienting to acquire the target. We have a vaulted ceiling in that room so the bird flew across first to the idle fan, perching on a blade, and then to an air vent embedded in the ceiling. Striped ginger tail wildly lashing, Papi leaped from bed to dresser, directly below the bird.

Meanwhile, I’d arisen and was addressing the bird, telling them that they need to get out. Closing doors to the bath and hall, I pushed the slider to its max. Taking the hint, the jay shot out. Papi shot out after it.

I looked out. It was a happy ending with the bird in a tree scolding Papi, and Papi returning to tell me good morning.

Well, with all these fires going on in the news and Trump’s campaign burning like a housefire as GOPers toss fuel on in, and Kamala Harris catching fire with voters and groups, The Neurons pulled up an old song about fire. Called “Sleep Now in the Fire”, the song is burning up my morning mental music stream (Trademark aflame). The 1999 song is about this little rock band called Rage Against the Machine. You tell me what it’s all about.

Be strong, stay positive, lean foreward and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee and I are going at it. Here’s the music. Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: amcoffeedident

Ah, Friday has arrived, for what it’s worth. It’s July 26, 2024. A tumultuous month is closing down. Our air quality is ‘moderate’ right now. From my standpoint, the sky’s blue is sketchy with gray but no smells are assaulting my nose and I’m not tearing up or sneezing, knock on wood, etc. 66 F now, it’ll be 89 F as our high.

Last night was cool, though, and fresh air came in. Windows and doors were opened. The temperature inside the house dropped to 70 F. Sweet. Everything was closed back up so we have a cool house throughout the day. With intense, direct sunshine, inside the house will reach 81 F. That’s liveable. Besides that, we’ll have a fan going on us in the office when we’re in there reading, chatting, and surfing the net.

It’s a much quieter morning today. We’re monitoring several fires. Two big ones are in California. Several large ones in Oregon, as well, but most of the large Oregon fires are on the eastern side of the Cascades. One fire by Chico in California was apparently started by a man. He’s been arrested for suspected arson. My wife, a pacifist, advocates hanging him as over 174,000 acres have burned, forcing over 3500 people to evacuate.

Some bad news from friends. One has his physician telling him that he’s two steps away from hospice. It was a warning to get his attention. Hope it does. A second has a dying floof-friend, one of those situations that bring out sighs of despair, sympathy, and empathy. Little can be done but to offer comfort. Third friend was taken away by EMTs. He was conscious when he left but we haven’t been able to get updates after several days, which just keeps the worries simmering.

Reflecting on shifts, changes, and news updates this week has encouraged The Neurons to bring “Bitter Sweet Sympathy” by the Verve into the morning mental music stream (Trademark scorched). I mean, as the 1997 song says, “‘Cause it’s a bitter sweet symphony that is life.”

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: chillax

Today is Thursday, July 25, 2024. Still a little time to get your early Christmas shopping done.

It’s been a noisy morning in my Ashlandia. A parade of sounds. Garbage trucks banging on and roaring down the street. Motorcycles. Barking dogs, overhead jets, loud talking people. There may have been a marching band as well. Couldn’t tell for the noise. A jackhammer capped the performance.

Then Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah), my black and white thick-furred floofhead, settled on my pillow above my head and vigorously groomed himself, sometimes leaning on my skull to prop himself up in his washing process. Hello!

Of course, the noise can all be explained in rational ways, especially when you set them against the situation. Iit’s a chill morning. Up to sixty now as the sun breaks over the mountains and trees overseeing my home site. Things must be done before the heat arrives. Also, the air quality is very breathable, better than it’s been in days. Better want to get things done before the air goes bad and the day heats up. And the passing jet could well have been a fire-fighting tanker. Not sure why the marching band was out there.

But come on, if this is what I have to complain about, the noise of life and a cat’s activity, I don’t have it bad at all. Massive fires still rage in all compass directions. Pity the animals and people chased out of their homes and habitats who face the task of rebuilding and finding new homes. And thanks to all those individuals at every level, tracking fires, managing and fighting them, and keeping us updated on what’s happening. Imagine what it would be like without them.

While it’ll be cool here today, just 86 F is the expected high, other regions are blazing away. the Copernicus Climate Change Service reports that the record set on July 21, 2024, for the hottest recorded temperture, was broken on July 22, 2024. Something to think about and keep you awake at night, isn’t it?

So WordPress has some AI magic to help me write better. It highlighted ‘may’ above, citing it as an ‘unconfident word’. The magic suggests I replace it with ‘been’, so the sentence would read, ‘There been a marching band as well.’ Yeah, that sounds more confident, although, perhaps, a little asinine as well.

Had a good time with friends sipping a few beers out in the shade and wind of a local brewery. Moderate turn out of ten. Progressives all, we were jazzed by the energy and optimism the Kamala Harris campaign is generating. We also noted the GOP’s lame and increasingly desperate attempts to undermine the Harris campaign. The GOP is running scared. Other than that, we discussed dark oxygen being generated at deep sea levels, along with airships, you know, derigibles. I think it was unanimous that we’d all like to experience traveling like that, as long as you’re not in a rush.

I’m chillin’ with a cuppa coffee in hand, and cool fresh air wafting in through the window behind me. The Neurons turn Frankie Goes to Hollywood loose in the morning mental music stream (Trademark televised) with “Relax” from 1983. That’s the theme song for the moment.

Stay positive and remain fresh and strong. I’m trying to do the same. Let’s Vote Blue in 2024, and bring the United States its first female in the White House as POTUS. Here’s the music. Cheers

Tuesday’s Theme Music

Mood: digitized

Get up and look out windows, judging the air’s color. Doesn’t look too bad. Some tinges of smok. A window is cracked opened. The sniff test is employed. Doesn’t smell too bad. The air feels cold.

I go on out into the living area and office, interrogate Alexa and checking my weather station, and then go online and check weather and air quality. It’s 64, and the AQI is in the sixties, not too bad. Doors and windows are opened and complaining floofs are released.

It’s Tuesday, July 23, 2024. Today’s high will be 96 F, so we’re not too bad. It’s the triple digit stuff that really gets to you.

My wife departs to meet some friends at the Growers Market. Yeah, they don’t use an apostrophe. Sirens erupt. Systems are checked to see, where are they going? What’s going on? I printed out the evacuation checklist yesterday. You know, just in guess. It’s sitting here beside me. We always have basic bags ready but maybe we should prepare the whole shebang. Just in case. It’s hot and dry here. Lightning can strike and ignite something without warning. Something to consider.

Out in the news world, it’s no surprise that the Secret Service Director resigned. They were being hounded and the GOP was openly, sharply hostile. That’s their style.

A headline says, “World registers hottest day ever recorded on July 21”. Wasn’t that hot here in Ashlandia. We seem to be contrarians. The article goes on, “Last year saw four days in a row break the record, from July 3 through July 6, as climate change, driven by the burning of fossil fuels, drove extreme heat across the Northern Hemisphere.

Every month since June 2023 – 13 months in a row – has now ranked as the planet’s hottest since records began, compared with the corresponding month in previous years, Copernicus said.

Some scientists have suggested 2024 could outrank 2023 as the hottest year since records began, as climate change and the El Nino natural weather phenomenon — which ended in April — have pushed temperatures ever higher this year. 

I imagine Republicans pooh-poohing the news and laughing. In this visual, it’s my staunch BIL MAGAt representing them. “It’s the weather,” he says loudly, shrugging, gesturing with his hands. “It’s always changing. It gets hot, it gets cold, big deal. You liberals.”

Yeah, we liberals are worrying about nothing except the increase in record temperatures — high and lows — and the acceleration of extreme weather. We’re worried about increased flooding and wildfires turning the air dark with smoke. We’re worried about increasing extended droughts and melting glaciers.

Tsk. So silly of us.

The music occupying my morning mental music stream (Trademark iffy) owes its presence to my wife. She was online, surfing. “Oh, I like that,” she says.

I do my spousal duty. “What is it?”

“This tee shirt. It says, I am woman, watch me vote.”

“Yes, that’s good.”

The Neurons pounced. I am woman, hear me roar, in numbers too big to ignore, begins. “I Am Woman”. Helen Reddy. 1971. As I often do with celebrities I haven’t heard or seen in a while, I verify her life status. Died in 2020, 78 years old. No cause of death given.

This is life in the digital age.

The song took on its own life as a anthem of female empowerment back in that last century, when the U.S. was becoming a more progressive nation. I was present at a rally in Caifornia when the female protestors spontaneously sang it A capella. Powerful moment down on Market Street in SF.

The house is cool. Thermostat says it’s 76 F inside. Feels good. I go around closing windows, sealing in the cool air for the day.

Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has endorsed my systems. I’m ready to rock. Here’s the music. Cheers

Sunday’s Theme Music

Mood: Sundaylax

It’s Sunday, July 21, 2024. Quiet rules the neighborhood. The cats and birds are all chilling. Haven’t seen any deer, cougars, foxes, or bears. I guess they’re off chilling somewhere, too.

Wildfire smoke crashed the scene yesterday. Gaining density, we were soon sitting in a yellow fog at 96 degrees F. The smoke carried out Air Quality clear up into the unhealthy zone, finishing just short of hazardous. The cats were forced in, the air purifying machine turned on, and the windows kept closed as sunlight fled and night swarmed in.

Dawn brought relief. Temperatures wre huddling in the low sixties. Smoke mildly grays the blue sky but visibility is much better. I’ve cautiously opened a few windows. Doesn’t smell overly bad. I experience some eye tearing and itchy now and and again, then a dripping nose, and a bout of sneezing, but overall, it can be endured. All the weather sources are agreeing that we’ll touch the high eighties as our temperature’s ceiling. That’s a welcome change.

I don’t know where the smoke is originating. California has several going. Southern Oregon where I live is relatively fire free. East of the Cascades delivers a different story, as major fires are going in Oregon on that side, especially by the Idaho border. Hope all stay safe and the fires are soon contained.

“Danger Zone”, a song by Kenny Loggins and associated with the movie Top Gun is storming the morning mental music stream (Trademark threatened). I don’t know why The Neurons pulled the 1986 song from the mental archives for this morning. It doesn’t seem overtly dream related. Could be smoke & fire thinking, I guess. I don’t believe that it’s a political manifestation as I swerved away from politics this morning.

It’s a kind of strange video. 80s music, 80s clothing, 80s dancing. But they’re my people. LOL.

Have a better one. Be strong, stay positive, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music and there’s the coffee. Help yourself. Here we go. Cheers

Saturday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffeetermined

Dry, hazy, hot. Not as hot as many U.S. places. Haven’t really checked the rest of the world. I’ve been mired in my American experience.

It’s 83 F in Ashlandia, where the sky is postcard blue and the sun beams down with frying bacon intensity. Gonna get hot today. How hot is questionable; one source said, 99 F. Another gave us a quote of 95 F. Somewhere in the upper nineties is my guess.

Tomorrow will be cooler, they’re saying. Fingers crossed, they’re right. Some are saying, 89 F will crown the temperature. Others declare, 91 F.

I’d love something in the high eighties for a change. I’m working on the side yard. We have a couple raised beds located there but chose not to use them this year, because we had other plans. While I was away in May, this yard grew thick with weeds. Now they’re all straw yellow and ripe fire fuel. I’m trying to remove it all but the heat gets in my way. Also, I grab this stuff and it just breaks away. Getting rid of it is going to be an involved process. I’m considering watering it to green it and then pull it up.

Papi and this jay have something going on. Papi is our ginger blade, a rescue floof abandoned when neighbors moved away. He and they apparently didn’t get along well. He’d started visiting us and socializing. Originally calling him Meep because of the soft sound he made, we started feeding him and giving him shelter when the weather went to shit. Eventually, he was ours and his original folks were gone.

I don’t know what precipitated it, but whenever Papi leaves the house and goes into the backyard, this jay flies over and screeches at him. I mean, it’s relentless. This started several days ago but this morning’s episode seemed more intense. I had the bedroom slider open to let the cool night air in, with the screen closed. Papi came in and ate just before six and went back out, and that jay started up like a frenzied MAGA fan. I could see the bird on our table yelling at Papi. Papi didn’t seem to be doing anything in response.

Anyway, out of that, The Neurons conjured the 1972 song which Billy Paul had a hit with. See, I’d said to myself, Papi and that jay have a thing going on. I guess The Neurons thought that segued well with the song’s lyrics, “We have a thing going on.” So now I have the song playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark scratched). If you listen to the song as I did, I sang along but subbed the words, “Papi and the jay have a thing going on.” When I sang it to Papi, I swear that he rolled his eyes and walked away.

Stay positive, be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is mingling with the tastebuds. Time to jam. Here’s the music. Cheers

Friday’s Theme Music

Mood: Heatweary

It’s currently seventy something in Ashlandia, sunny as hell, with blue sky from here to there, and Friday, July 19, 2024. The morning lacks that ‘Friday feel’ to it that used to be so special. That might be because the continuous high heat has evaporated it. Or melted it. I don’t know.

It will be cooler here today, reaching just 93 F, just above our standard for this time of year. ‘This time of year’ is used so much, we should create a new word out of it, like thistimeofyear.

It’s quiet time in my life but busy. Tracking others’ health, tracing my health, trying to get on top of a rotating list of tasks, but you get ’em done and they come around again. It’s part of life’s great cycle.

Of course, U.S. politics are weighing down my thoughts and mood. Trump speaks and out spews lies. And those who disparaged him before now stand by his side singing his praises. The lack of principles is sickening, more so for those who support these characters.

Anyway, my brain was talking to me about how ‘everybody knows’ that Trump lies. It’s like a given. Somehow, that gains him followers. What kind of voodoo is that?

A dark and pessimistic song was brought forward by The Neurons. “Everybody Knows” by Leonard Cohen came out in 1988. His bassy graveled words carry sensibilities of wry cynicism and worldly acceptance. Playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark tarnished), the lyrics mock how all know and accept. Cohen lists them with a sneer — “Everybody knows.” That’s how it seems now. Everybody knows Trump lies and cheats, it’s been proven. He leaves glittering disaster in his wake and there’s a history to prove it. Everybody knows. But he has his supporters singing his praises, pretending that shit hasn’t happened. Everybody knows it’s because they share his ‘values’. When we dig deeper into those values, we discover that they’re just a veneer over their prejudices, fear, and hatred. Calling them ‘values’ makes them feel better about themselves, even though everybody knows that it’s bullshit.

Stay positive — seems cynical, maybe even hypocritical, for me to suggest that to you, given how insurmountable I find it each day to stay positive in the face of media reports, polls, and the GOP hypocrisy. But, swallow, deep breath, I try, and urge you to do the same. Stay positive. Lean forward. Be strong. Vote Blue in 2024. And believe.

Coffee and I are doing the morning dance. Here’s the music. Cheers

Thursday’s Theme Music

Mood: coffee-upd.

Welcome to Ashlandia, where it’s Thursday, July 18, 2024. Currently sitting at 70 degrees F under an unfettered blue sky, we expect to achieve a high only three degrees above our July average, 95 F. I’m looking forward to a summer day when we’re three degrees below average. Yes a day in the high nineties would be a treat. On the plus side, our dry conditions keep us from being flooded as is happening in other parts of the U.S.

A friend was relating some cat tales to a group last night. His cat is now mature and they’ve been leaving together for a few years, so he finally broke it to her that she was adopted. He thought she took it well.

Later, though, she was lying on the floor in dim night light. He went by, brushing his foot against her back leg. She instantly bolted out of there at the speed of light. In the process, she used his big toe to launch herself, and her claw left a nice souvenir. Next day, he had the front door open but the screen door on so she could look out. Well, she climbed the screen and got a claw stuck. He saved her and she rewarded him with a five-inch scratch. I wondered, was this all accidental, or was she acting out because she learned she was adopted?

Cats.

Today’s music comes from noodling thoughts. I’d been thinking about how Evangelicals have embraced Trump. He’s one of them is their claim, which means, they’re like him, yeah? In doing so, they’ve basically re-branded themselves with Trump’s values. It sickens me. Anyhow, eavesdropping on my thinking, The Neurons dropped Joan Osbourne’s 1995 hit song, “One of Us” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark hopeful). Eric Bazilian wrote the song. In it, singer and writer wonder, what if God was one of us? A stranger on a bus trying to make their way home. They create an image so far away from the Evangelical’s bizarre twist that Trump is a holy savior.

Right. Let me the picture the scene. Can you imagine Trump taking a bus to go home? Imagine him among the hoi polloi. Of course, he’d be trying to sell something and bragging about how great he is. “I’m the greatest savior ever,” he’d declared. “And it’s not just me thinking that. The Pope told me. He said, ‘Donald, you’re the greatest savior ever, cause you’re not a loser. You’ve never been nailed to a cross.'”

BTW, it’s Sour Candy Day. I’m not a fan of sour candy but if you are, please indulge.

Stay positive — yes, deep breaths, right? Be strong. Lean forward. Vote Blue in 2024. And drink coffee. That last is totally optional for you, but I’m having some, black, hot, and unadulterated. Dig me?

Here’s the music. And away we go. Cheers

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