Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
Temperature is such a funny animal. 72 degrees inside in the winter and we sigh with comfort. So warm! How nice.
72 F inside in the summer — “Brrr, it feels a little chilly,” my wife complains.
Looking askance, I smile and move, catlike to a pool of sunshine streaming in through the window.
Ashland, southern Oregon — Sunday, June 21, 2026.
Welcome to the first day of summer for those living above the equator. Sunny skies and 85 F are in our valley’s forecast today. It’s a pleasant 68 F right now.
Of course, if you’re south of the equator, welcome to the first day of winter. Stay safe and warm down there.
Oh, and Happy Father’s Day in the US.
And Happy Pride Month in the US.
Eureka, Utah, has been evacuated due to the growing Iron fire, a somber reminder that we’re in wildfire season. People are out using power tools right now, which is permitted in the early morning, when it’s cool.
It’s a lazy morning for me. Still sobering up from my dreams. Experienced many vivid ones. So I’m being lazy with my theme music, and posting a few things from the net. They caught my attention and add perspective on what continues to go on with the corrupt Trump administration and their leader’s many failures.
On that, I’ll move on. Today’s music is “Lonely Boy” by Andrew Gold. Song came out in 1977. The Neurons set it off in my morning mental music stream after I looked at some photos of Trump at the G7. I thought, wow, he looks so lost. And, well, lonely. Like he has no friends and has no idea of what to do. Because nobody wanted to be with him. They know what a pompous fool he is/
May your days, whether they’re summer or winter, be filled with the warmth of friendship, love, and hope.
Cheers
Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, May 12, 2026.
It’s 66 F in Ashland. Clouds have painted a thin white veneer over the blue. Thunderstorms are forecast, along with an 87 degree high as spring moves toward summer.
Papi and I went out back. As I was stretching and yawning, I looked down and saw him doing the same. I laughed. “Nice stretching, oh great fur being.” He sat down and began grooming places that I groom in the shower.
News from home is that Mom is sick again. Details are shared. Her sciatic nerve has flared up and she’s back in her wheelchair. Also suffering from diarrhea. Sis says that’s been going on for a week.
My sister has been in content with estate sellers. Familiar with them? They buy the contents and then sell it to the public. They really want to know if there’s anything there besides furniture. Yes, there’s all the things you’d find in house where someone lives. I know that there’s a new movement on about ‘vintage’ stuff. Corning Ware is very popular now. Old clothes. Mom has all that stuff.
Strange and humbling to think simultaneously of all that stuff being bought, used, and sold to others. Decisions made about each purchase. I’d rather that someone else finds and uses the stuff rather than having it going to trash or recycled for its materials.
Today’s music has a two-prong inspiration. One, Jill Dennison recently played ELO’s song, “Turn to Stone”. A good song, it brought to mind another song called “Turn to Stone”. As soon as I read “Turn to Stone” on Jill’s blog, The Neurons introduced Joe Walsh’s “Turn to Stone” song.
I also remembered that I once read that Walsh said the song was about frustration. In true ‘net spirit, Wikipedia.org has a good quote about that from Walsh.
“‘Turn to Stone’ was written about the Nixon administration and the Vietnam War and the protesting that was going on and all of that. It’s a song about frustration. Also, I attended Kent State. I was at the shootings. That fueled it, too. In those days it felt like the government’s priority was not the population. They had an agenda that was about something other than doing what was necessarily good for the country.”
That last line echoes through Trump’s agenda. Driven by ‘right-wing values’, also known as racism, sexism, and greed, and orchestrate by the Heritage Foundation and Project 2025, Trump’s agenda is about him and not at all anything necessarily good for the country.
As Joe sings, “Read the writing on the wall.”
Your Trump Quote of the Day:
Inflation news grabbed headlines this morning. Driven by Trump’s non-war in Iran, inflation jumped 3.8% in April. Rising gas prices were a big factor.
Trump’s disapproval rating keeps climbing. The NYT’s page summarizing polls and their Trump ratings are a column of red, showing net disapproval in every poll.
One another piece of news was that Epstein survivors are testifying in Florida. Standing by for another salvo from Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL to distract us from these pieces of news.
On to the music. Hope your day is full of good intentions and good results.
Got my coffee. Time to fly. Cheers
Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, March 12, 2026.
Spring is on the way in the U.S.
It shows here. We started at 34 when I rolled out of bed but with blue skies and sunshine, we’ve jumped fast to 50 F, hurtling toward the mid 60s. Best way to put it, with the daffs and tulips blooming and plum tree blossoms enriching the landscape, it’s a beautiful springish day.
Mom and my sisters are quiet, as is my house. In fact, while many things are going on in politics and world news, I feel like I’m waiting for the multiple systems to react — and maybe crash.
So I feed the cat, read the news. My wife and I think and talk as I sip coffee. All the while, I keep an eye on the headlines and digital stream and check my text and messaging systems.
Time was also spent looking at what the state has been up to. The Oregon legislative session ended. Our rep, Pam Marsh, put out a summary of the work done, a welcome reassurance that some government remains grounded, pragmatic, and functional.
Today’s music reflects that sense of waiting. The Neurons are playing “The Promised Land” by Bruce Springsteen in my morning mental music stream. I hum along with the thought of what was promised and what’s been delivered. This is not just in my life as an adult, but what was held out to us as children. Growing up in the television age, we were often sold impressions about stable, white families with Dad going to work and the children going to school and getting into minor mischief. Mom stayed home and cooked in her skirt or dress, wearing high heels as she vacuumed, did the laundry, cooked. Some shows — like “Hazel” — featured more prosperity, and a maid.
More realistic shows came along, such as “The Jeffersons” and “All in the Family”, but our beliefs were hardened by then. Yet, it didn’t often work out as television claimed it would.
Anyway, here I am, waiting.
Hope you have a great day and all that means to you. Peace and grace on you.
Cheers
I always like headlines like this:
I thought, wow, they’re including the Broncos when they say ‘all’? Man, that is deep.
I expect to see headlines soon like ‘All of the planets (including Earth) in order according to their distance from the sun.’
‘All four seasons (including winter) ranked by temperature.’
Or, how about, ‘All five oceans (including the Pacific) in square miles.’
Going back to the NFL headline, I wonder, why call out the Broncos out of 32 teams? Strange, no?
Stranger still how much I spend thinking about things like this.
Breaking away from writing, I step out for a walk. The sun has warmed us to a comfortable level. I stride along, nodding and saying hello to others encountered.
A shineless brown hot rod comes along. Roadster. Something out of the forties. Driven by a man who looks like he also originated in the forties, and a woman who might be a little younger, maybe even his daughter, as a passenger, bundled up in heavy clothes.
Putting along at 20 MPH, he guides the car to the side and waves a following vehicle past. Silver SUV, its twenty something driver gooses it faster. An electric vehicle, it glides by with a rising brash hum.
The scene on a small-town street seems so perfectly emblematic of change. Trees and their colors tell of the season changing around us, and there goes an old internal combustion car of a kind rarely seen, passed by an electric car, of the kind now commonly encountered.
Reality couldn’t have been better staged.
Michael Seidel, writer 