Clouds are climbing over the mountains and shouldering the blue sky and sunshine out of the valley. It’s Thursda, June 19, 2025. Today will tap out in the low to mid 70s after breaking down to the low fifties, all Fahrenheit, in the night. Rain might be coming tomorrow, along with lower temperatures.
We’re watching a fire to our west. In the Upper Applegate/Ruch area, it’s already eaten over 350 acres. Firefighters are working it; the cooler temperatures are helping. Some smoke is slipping our way, taxing our air quality.
News about Mom is not readily available. When we last left her story, she’d been taken to the hospital where, at a few minutes after midnight, they weren’t sure they were keeping her or discharging her. She was constipated and in intense pain. They don’t know what’s causing the pain.
Today’s music is by the O’Jays. “Love Train” is part of the Philly sound. Coming out in 1972, many call it early disco but I book it as R&B. Whatever genre you label it, the song was part of a more optimistic period, when we were saying, hey, peace and brotherhood are good things and they are possible. It’s possible for us all to live side by side and not just survive but thrive. Some, though, fell behind while others were thriving. Contemptuous neer’ do wells use the gap to wedge people further apart and pour hate in. Whatever someone hates or doesn’t like, they find someone on ‘the other side’ to hate for it. The Neurons hooked it when a snatch of song was heard which may have been “Love Train”. So here we are.
It’s a short entry. I’m off for oral surgery now. Coffee, food, and any fluids are currently off limits. See you on the rebound. Cheers
Sunday morning brings us a dirty gray blue sky with a dirty white veneer. Air quality is in high double digits, so not too precarious as far as the readings go. Just looks off.
This is September 8, 2024. Currently 69 degrees F with smoke but it’ll climb to 92 F with smoke. Meteorological rumors has Wednesday’s high capped in the mid to upper sixties, with a 92% chance of a quarter inch of rain. We’re pretty jazzed about that in this Ashlandia household.
The beginning of Peter’s column gives the guest’s background.
Lynn Myrick is a Trump supporter. He is a retired Southern Oregon family law attorney. He practiced for 47 years and still serves as an expert witness on attorney ethics and billing practices.
Myrick is a regular reader of this blog. My critique of Trump’s criminality, his business frauds, his sexual crimes, and his seditious effort to overthrow the election did not dampen Myrick’s support of Trump.
Peter goes on, Critics may think he sounds drunk, stupid, willfully uninformed, profoundly biased, or worse. They may think Myrick is mired in the alternative reality of a religious cult led by a con-man guru. But Myrick is not stupid. This is what he thinks. Something along the lines of this interior monologue takes place in the minds of a near-majority of our fellow citizens. Read it as literature. Read it for insight on how it is possible Americans might choose to elect Trump.
I was hugely disappointed in Myrick’s post. Less of a word salad than Trump himself would present, it’s a right-wing talking points gush, without any context, historic perspective, or critical thinking. For me, it seems like he gets all his news from right-wing sources and challenges none of it. That’s a common perception, right or wrong, that I have about most Trump supporters; they’ve inculcated a narrow perception of the world and hunts facts to bolster that perception. Those facts are often wrong because the purveyors providing the false information are catering to the right wing’s need for false facts. The right wing is going through life with blinders on these days.
Worse, Myrick is like, ‘look how terrible Biden/Harris is’ without any contemplation of the alternative, Trump and Vance. Trump has rightfully earned himself a label of weird. Hugging the flag, claiming he wants votes and doesn’t want them, lying about everything and anything without any limitation. Add to that, he’s under several indictments and has been convicted. He is a felon. He tried overthrowing the election in 2020. That’s apparently okay with Myrick. He offers no comments at all on Trump. Just staunch, no Dem! Dem bad!
But then, that’s what the right wing chamber declares, along with ‘Trump good’, without offering evidence.
Myrich probably thinks he wrote a sharp, damning piece. And the right-wing probably agrees with him.
I guess from thinking about the GOP, which can be called ‘the other side’, caused The Neurons to summon “The Other Side” by Aerosmith to the morning mental music stream (Trademark dark). I remember this song coming out. I was already familiar with it, as it was released in 1990 as a single but it was from the album, Pump, which I’d already purchased. Holland–Dozier–Holland, the Hall of Fame songwriting team, threatened Aerosmith with a lawsuit because “The Other Side” had some resemblance in parts to “Standing In the Shadows of Love”.
Alright, on to other things. Smoke is getting worse out there. Over 100 now on the air quality index. You stay positive and be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Coffee has been swallowed a few times. Here’s the music. Cheers
Saturday padded in on floof feet, bringing clouds. Not so chilly this morning, it’s already 73 but will climb to only 95 F today. That’s 10 degrees less than I saw at my house yesterday.
Quiet outside, the main news comes from the avian Karens known as scrubjays. They get involved in everything, flying around making loud announcements about what people and other birds and animals are doing. A small aircraft putters by hundreds of feet overhead, its putter a steady sound that gains volume and then falls into a distant hum.
Air quality is okay on Siskiyou Blvd., about a hundred yards down the hill from us, but quickly deteriorates into mid-triple digits as you travel up the mountain flanks. A burnt wood smell hangs in the air, leftovers from some fires, somewhere.
We did two jigsaw puzzles in August. A three-hundred-piece puzzle was done on the first night of vacation. Another was started there, and then transported home, where we finished it. We started a third one last week and finished it last night. This was another Wysocki puzzle, produced by Buffalo, one thousand pieces.
The Neurons have plugged “Notorious” by Duran Duran into the morning mental music stream (Trademark seedy). Don Old Trump’s latest round of speeches and proclamations set off the 1986 song in my head. Trump is just notorious for saying notorious crap.
“Donald Trump apparently doesn’t care whether or not he wins in November anymore.
At a Fox News town hall on Thursday, the Republican presidential nominee revealed that his 2024 campaign strategy excludes anyone who he doesn’t believe supported him in the last election cycles.
“One person who didn’t support me—he said, ‘I must admit I had the most successful four years of my life but I’m gonna vote for some—’ and now that person came back to me. I don’t want that person,” Trump said to muffled applause. “I don’t want that person.
“You know, they say you should take everybody, but that’s not the way I’m built. It’s one of those little problems,” he added.
All of this is probably depressing to those people who want him to talk about policies and be a serious politician. But he’s just too weird.
He said those things at a town hall meeting on Thursday. But on Wednesday, the day before in Pennsylvania, he was pleading for votes.
“Even if you don’t like me, you can sit there and say, ‘I can’t stand that guy, but there’s no way I’m gonna vote for her.’”
He also apparently forgot on Wednesday where he was, alluding to New Hampshire instead of Pennsylvania, and who he was running against.
“I can’t imagine New Hampshire voting for him. Anyone in New Hampshire who votes for Biden or Kamala…” he told the crowd.
Trump has become notorious for mental gaffes in 2024 as well as ducking responsibility and claiming he’s never said anything, or that he’s responsible for things. He’s claimed that he knew nothing about the photo at Arlington National Cemetery. He also claimed that Vice President Harris made it up. His campaign claimed there wasn’t a physical altercation with anyone as described.
Meanwhile, a Trump spokesperson wrote, “For a despicable individual to physically prevent President Trump’s team from accompanying him to this solemn event is a disgrace and does not deserve to represent the hollowed grounds of Arlington National Cemetery,” he said in a written statement, misspelling the word hallowed. “Whoever this individual is, spreading these lies are dishonoring the men and women of our armed forces.”
The person they’re referring to is the U.S. Army employee who works at Arlington National Cemetery.
That’s Trump and his campaign. Notorious for word salads, lies, and contradictions. Notorious for lacking principles or honor. Notorious for blaming others. Notorious for being a hot mess.
Stay positive, be strong, and vote blue in 2024. Here’s the music video. The smoke pollution is worsening. Gotta go close the windows and turn on the air purifier. Cheers
Today is Saturday, August 24, 2024. It’s a chilly 54 F this morning. I turn on the fireplace and open the blinds. Light rain peppers the greenery with some needed moisture. Sunshine emerges and steam begins rising. Today’s high will be an un-summery 70 F.
We’re back in Ashlandia, where the worries are palpable and the angst is regular. A second well-established restaurant is shutting down after years of business. This is a trend we don’t like.
Ashlandia is dependent on tourism. Drought, pandemic, fires, smoke, and economics have all tested our tourism. Each have contributed to a point where the ‘you are here’ dot is tiny and prickly. We’re home to the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. It’s our major industry, abetting revenue brought in by being an outdoor adventure location for fishing, rafting, and skiing (Mt. Ashland) and what Southern Oregon University contributes. Under the impact of those big five factors of pandemic, etc., we’ve been in a slow downward spiral.
We’d already lost the seasonal business called the Water Street Cafe. It’d been a longtime draw but the owner passed and the survivors couldn’t make it work. It’s now a crepe place, and we have high hopes for that.
Last week, the Black Sheep Restaurant announced they’re shutting down. Now Cucina Biazzi is closing. We’re already lost many book stores like the Book Wagon, and coffee shops like The Beanery and Cafe Boulevard. In their place, we’re gaining used clothing stores, marijuana dispenseries, and tattoo parlors. This are not major draws when every other town is offering more of the same.
Being back home, I miss stepping out of the Waldport vacation house and into the seaside environment. I enjoyed going out there each morning and tasting the breeze, studying the tides’ levels, and gathering in sunshine and clouds. I do the same thing here, but it’s not the same with the ocean missing.
I begin another theme for the coming week today. The theme now is songs with time in their titles. Lots come to mind. The time theme came out of being stuck in traffic yesterday as an accident was cleared away. The first song offering from The Neurons is “Time Won’t Let Me” by The Outsiders from 1965. The fast-paced rocking roller is filling my morning mental music stream (Trademark delayed) like I was back in a neighbor’s Wilkinsburg basement listening to it on a 45 record. Actually, I think my memories have better fidelity than that little record player in use. I would’ve been about ten at that time.
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue. Coffee has made itself comfortable in me. Time for the music. Cheers
We’ve crashed into another Sunday. It’s August 11, 2024. Jays are busy arguing outside. A whipperwill keeps some background song going. Distant car travel are reminders that others are out there and on the move.
60 F now, 92 F will be the high. It’s a comfy 74 in the house. Meanwhile, the air quality is in the moderate stage again, 82, but smoke discolors the blue sky mountain tableau. Thin smoky tendrils are slithering into the windows so I’ve shut ’em.
Not sure where our fire is from. Haven’t seen any recent models for wind and smoke. The Park fire still blazes away down in California, less than a hundred miles away. Started by a man rolling a car down a ravine, it’s closing on 400K acres of burned land.
Dozens of fires are burning in my state, Oregon. None are too close at this point. Fingers crossed and knock wood that that won’t change. Burning more than 459 square miles, the Durkee fire on the state’s eastern side along the Idaho border, is Oregon’s largest. Started by lightning, it ate through the hot, dry vegetation, killing cattle and wildlife and forcing evacuations. It’s 95 percent contained.
Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) and Papi have entered a new state of floofproachment. First, Tucker was giving chase after Papi a few times. Then, as Tucker sailed past Papi, Papi sniffed Tucker’s nethers and tapped his tail. Next, Papi was sitting at the open door. Tucker, walking by to leave, paused and leaned his had Papi’s way. Papi politely tapped Papi on the head, signalling, move on, buddy. Then the two were seen touching noses in a classic flooformational exchange. This is only what we’ve witnessed but we’ve not found any signs of more intense encounters, so we’re assuming they’re moving closer to trusting one another and maybe getting along. It’s only been almost a decade. Time is sometimes needed for these things.
The dancing theme continues for the time being. Pausing to think of songs with dance in the title and songs about dancing, a scroll of titles are unrolled. The one The Neurons seized and plugged into the morning mental music stream (Trademark tapped), “And We Danced”, a 1985 song by The Hooters. Why that dance song, oh Neurons of Mine, I politely inquired. Have some coffee and think about it, they replied. I’m still sipping the coffee and thinking. I got nothing.
Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers
News stories scan make me blanch. Yes, of course there are feel-good Olympic stories. News outlets thrive on those. They sell clicks and papers and increase viewership. People want to feel good about the world. They don’t want to read of a school bombed in Gaza City with nearly 100 killed. And they want to turn away from the Trumpstorm that is the 2024 GOP campaign. Weird describes their candidates and also describes some of the base, but what describes the rest?
Baby formula recalls, Venezuela, Elon Musk, X.
Here, we’re dealing with wildfires and smoke pollution. Wildfires are being fought not just all over Oregon but California, Wyoming, Washington, Idaho, Colorado…that’s just the tip.
This is Saturday, August 10, 2024. There are less than 90 days until the elections.
It’s 62 F. We’ll see our average and usual high today, 92 F. Good. The air is low moderate again, and I can see the mountains and blue skies today.
A dancing outing is planned for Lake of the Woods Resort. The air is checked. Not good. Discussions are engaged: should we still go?
Time to start a new theme week. The idea of going out dancing brought up a bunch of songs for The Neurons, so that’s this week’s theme: dancing. One of their favorites, now circulating the morning mental music stream (Trademark burning) is a 1983 fast-tempo beat by the Pointer Sisters called “Neutron Dance”. Point of order for The Neurons: this is not “Neuron Dance”. Yes, that is how they hear the lyrics, but that doesn’t change the truth.
Though coming out of the techno 1980s, it’s a song for the current era. Themes like homelessness — “The rent is due, I got no place to stay.” Weariness: “It’s hard to say just how some things never change and it’s hard to find any strength to draw the line.”
don’t wanna take it anymore I’ll just stay here locked behind the door Just no time to stop and get away ‘Cause I work so hard to make it every day
[Chorus] And it’s hard to say Just how some things never change And it’s hard to find Any strength to draw the line Oh, I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance (Ah, ah, ah) I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance
[Refrain] Whoo-ooh (Whoo-ooh) I’m on fire, yeah I’m on fire, yeah
[Chorus] And it’s hard to say Just how some things never change And it’s hard to find Any strength to draw the line Oh, I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance (Ah, ah, ah) I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance
Let’s all sing it and dance. h/t to Genius.com for the lyrics. Easier to copy than typing them all out.
Stay positive — I now, I’m one to speak — be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue. Coffee and I have met up on a drink day. Here’s the video. Cheers
Our weather is continuing its pattern in Ashlandia. High today of 92 to 95 F. This is our average temp for the month. Smoke is up, stinging nostrils, bit of a bloody nose, congestd nose and sinuses, turning my throat into aching parchment. It’s 69 F now on this Friday, August 9, 2024. The air quality is moderate, ’bout 83 in my zone. There is an unhealthy air advistory out for us. It was s’posed to expire this morning but it’s been extended until tonight. Still, better than having a raging fire actually in town. And the air is good enough in my area that some windows are open a few inches. I know from observations and experience, the bad air is out in front of us, to the west. East, and north (today), is delivering decent air. It’s about the vegetation and topography.
We continue to check on a friend who just disappeared. He has health issues; so does his wife. He does have children and grands in the area, so he might be with them. He was taken off by EMTs one afternoon, and that’s the last he was seen by friends and neighbors. They haven’t seen him where he volunteers. Haven’t heard from him. The car is gone, no one answers the phone or emails, or the door. It’s been a pensive month looking for a news update on him. He’s always been very private so we’re hopeful that he’s okay but just keeping to himself and fam.
Today’s theme music goes with a free variation. The Neurons have Queen with “I Want to Break Free” alternating with Neil Young with “Rockin’ in the Free World” playing in the morning mental music stream (Trademark taxing). I can’t choose so I’ll go with both.
Both songs are from the 1980s and established rockers. “I Want to Break Free” was released in ’84. The music video caused a social storm in the U.S. because, oh, no, cross dressing. *gasp*. There’s a small but vocal group of Puritanical Americans who always react with hand-wringing and gasps, and hisses, “Oh, the children, think of the children.” Yeay, I’m channeling some Southpark.
Although this is a love song of sorts, we have those apt opening lines for Trump and the MAGAts:
I want to break free I want to break free I want to break free from your lies You’re so self-satisfied, I don’t need you I’ve got to break free God knows, God knows I want to break free
“Rockin’ in the Free World” was released in 1989. I initially thought it was in response to George Bush becoming POTUS but later learned, no, it was because planned concerts to the U.S.S.R. were canceled, apparently because the Soviets said, “Nyet.” As for its lines, they are poignantly political (h/t to Genius.com):
That’s America and our overall priorities: guns and wars, consumer goods and driving.
Stay positive, be free, and remain strong. Vote Blue in 2024. Here is my coffee, here is my cup, part my lips and drink it down. Here are the videos. Let’s rock.
Thursday has trundled in, soft of foot and full of grace, delivering smoke in our space, and pleasing night air on our face.
It’s Thursday, 8/8/24, or 24/8/8.
Our smoke has risen into the unhealthy zone. Don’t know which fire is our source. We have many to select from. None too close but valleys channel it in. It looks like crap out there. Can’t see the mountains for the smoke, and the blue sky has been squirted into smoggy tones. 65 F outside my house today, we’re expecting a thirty degree rise to the high. No wind is blowing, so a sort of still deadness rules. I expect zombies to start emerging from the smoke at any moment.
We’ve been spoiled by the peaches acquired at the growers market in the last two visits. Both times we returned with the sweetest, tastiest, most perfectly ripe peaches. Sooo juicy. The blackberries were found wanting. Plump and juicy, yes, but only one out of four is sweet. We’re of the school that blacberries should be sweet and not sour, and the sour blackberries aren’t sitting well on my tongue. Besides those fruits, we picked up green onions — my wife is a fiend for ’em — and greens. Good stuff: local and organic. Non-GMO.
I posted something about Gov Walz the other day. A right wing friend commented, “He put tampons in the boys room.” I reacted, oh, no! How terrible! How tragic! Must cost billions of dollars. Such a waste, such a waste.
Well, no, I didn’t write all that. I thought it. I wasn’t going to write it because the issue doesn’t deserve any oxygen. As Joey from Friends said, “It’s something a cow would say. It’s a moo point.”
My wife has an ongoing thing with spiders in the bath. I use the shower stall, so this doesn’t involve me, but whenever she heads to the tub, she must clear out several spiders. We don’t kill spiders and these are all of the daddy longlegs variations. She plugs up the drain with a cloth to keep them from climbing up through there and removes them by means of a rolled, stiff piece of paper. She calls this her spider catcher. It’s actually an old invoice for blinds. We pulled it out a month ago to see when we purchased our blinds. It hasn’t been refiled because it’s now my wife’s spider catcher. She gives me a summary — “There were three spiders in there. I don’t know they’re coming from. They seem to get stuck. Stupid spiders. I move them and they go right back in there.”
With freedom still my theme this week, The Neurons are channeling Bread’s 1971 song, “Mother Freedom” into the morning mental music stream (Trademark discounted). My older sister had this album so I knew the song. I met my wife later that year. Her sister had the album on 8-track and regularly played it. It’s tres fam. God song for freedom week, though.
Freedom, keep walkin’ Keep on your toesand don’t stop talkin’ ’bout Freedom, get goin’ Lots to be learned and lots to be known ’bout People gotta reach ’em Sit ’em right down and then you gotta teach ’em ’bout Freedom, gotta win it Gotta put yourself smack dab in it
Hey tomorrow Now don’t you go away ‘Cause freedom Just might come your way
Freedom, keep tryin’ People stay alive and people keep dyin’ for Freedom, so don’t lose it Ya gotta understand ya just can’t abuse it Freedom, get movin’ Never gonna stop till everybody’s groovin’ on Love for – one another Callin’ some friend and callin’ some brother
Just 89 days until the elections. Stay fresh, be strong, and remain postive. Vote Blue. Coffee has found its way into a cup and on into my systems, so all systems are go. Here’s the music video. Cheers
Start the coffee. Saturday has landed on us in Ashlandia, where the students are young and the population is old.
A light rain fell this morning. After the smoke cleared to moderate levels last night, I opened windows with dreams of cooling the house. As we slept, the smoke returned. I awoke congested at just before six. Heading to the bathroom to spray saline up my nose and blow it out, my ears captured the ping ping of rain on the exhaust fan hood. Checking it out, I discovered Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) out on the patio, watching a mild rain descending. Papi was not far away but showed less interest in the rain.
It’s August 3, 2024. 94 days until the 2024 elections. 71 F here at this point, today’s high should stop short of the upper eighties. With this rain has come mouldering gray clouds. Smoke still obscures the mountains. We’re skewing toward moderately unhealthy air from wildfire smoke at the moment.
Today’s music will be “Freedom” by Beyonce. Reading that Vice President Kamala Harris is rolling it out as her campaign’s theme music, The Neurons and I agreed that it would be good theme music for today. I admit that I’m not overly familiar with the song. Released in 2016, I saw her perform it duing the Superbowl halftime show one year. There is no doubt the powerful, energetic song and its lyrics fit the fighting spirit VP Harris needs to win. It’s also a fitting album for a year in which the GOP is cutting back women’s rights and shackling their freedom. Hell, JD Vance even suggested making it a requirement that women have papers for traveling between states.
Freedom! Freedom! I can’t move Freedom, cut me loose! Yeah Freedom! Freedom! Where are you? ‘Cause I need freedom, too! I break chains all by myself Won’t let my freedom rot in hell Hey! I’ma keep running ‘Cause a winner don’t quit on themselves
The air has cleared for us again. Looking at the models of wind currents, the swirling brings us some smoke from the north, like the Diamond Lake complex. Then the wind shifts and the smoke travels up along the mountain valleys from California’s monstrous Parks fire by Chico. A new wind change, and we have a reprieve for a while, like today, well, like now. Because those shifts can come with the suddenless of a cat snapping its paw out.
It will get hot today. Although it’s just 73 F now, we expect the digits to stop climbing at 99 F. Yesterday was supposed to see 104 F but I’m not certain we got that high at my house. That’s because we did a shopping run down the highway in Medford.
Breakfast bore the fruits of that shopping. A bagel was consumed alongside a fresh juicy, sweet peach, wonderfully plump, ripe cherries, and fat, flavorful blueberries.
It’s First Friday in Ashlandia. The art galleries will be flinging their doors open. Like coffee shops, book stores, and bakeries, we don’t have as many art galleries as we used to. The number of places that fell into the categories of that quartet — coffee shops, book stores, bakeries, and art galleries — was a big pull to Ashlandia for us. As those places fell away, replaced by fancy restaurants and ‘vintage’ clothing stores, and odd things like lavendar shops, the town lost its shine in our eyes. This is life, right?
Manwhile, friends have a project up, 1000museums at one of the art galleries today, so we’ll be pointing our feet to it and then progressing left right left right (cue Homer Simpson and Randy Newman) until we’re there.
Oh and we’re going blackberry picking at a friend’s place tomorrow morning.
As it’s Friday, Friday music is in my head. That’s how The Neurons work. There’s a large collection of songs about Friday. Like “Friday On My Mind”, “Black Friday”, “I Gotta Feeling”, “Friday I’m in Love”, and several songs just called “Friday”. The Neurons planted Blink 182 and “What’s My Name Again” in the morning mental music stream (Trademark next week) though, so that’s the music for the day.
Hope your Friday goes well. Stay pos, be strong, leeean forward, and Vote Blue this year. Coffee and I have reached an agreement and it’s being sipped. Here’s the music. Quite elemental. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 