Tag: sour mood

Wednesday’s Theme Music – Moron

Ashland, southern Oregon. Wednesday, September 16, 2026.

Summer’s pullback continues. Thunderstorms are forecast for the area. With a temperature now of 64 and a high of 78 F, we’re leaning toward the cool side.

Sour mood again. Sorry. Apologies.

Mom is being discharged from the hospital. She’s to return to Heritage Grove assisted living. My sister, Gina, is taking her. Gina reports Mom is loopy and confused. They have her on O2. It feels like it’s a setup for another mess, which leaves me and my sisters down. With all of Mom’s issues, we know that only one thing can resolve her problems. The weariness just drags on.

Likewise, Trump news is a drag on the soul. His EPA is repealing pollution limits on fossil fuel power plants. Speaking with Trumplike stupidity, an EPA administrator said, “”The days of Biden and Obama working to destroy natural gas and coal are over.”

Yeah. That’s what Presidents Obama and Biden were doing. Sure. Had nothing to do with climate change. BTW, 2026 is set to go down as the hottest on record. But please, let’s put more pollutants in the air and water so that what we breathe and drink harms our health. People are already struggling with healthcare costs. Let’s load more problems. That’s Trump’s backwards thinking.

Never mind the history books full of stories about smoke from burning coal darkening the skies. Forget rivers on fire and cancer rising as industries dumped their pollutants into water systems.

And please, do ignore all the studies which show that improving the air and water quality led to increases in productivity.

No, Trump and the GOP are just going back in time, dragging us with them.

And what’s hilarious is that Trump wants more AI because he thinks the Chinese are pulling ahead. Without knowing how AI can generate profits and without regard to what all those AI centers can do to our health and environment, Trump wants to bull on.

It’s sadly funny but he’s amazing stupid, greedy, and short-sighted. But as said by many, because the truth is clear, Trump only cares about Trump.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Gosh, yes, Donald Trump, once you say, beautiful, it changes everything! Why, that’s amazing! You ARE such a genius, you idiot.

Here’s a photo of an American city back before the EPA was created, along with the regulations to protect the air, land, and water. You’re a fool if you can stand in that, look around, breathe in, and call it beautiful. As a 70-year-old, I lived through that air in my childhood and survived, and don’t want to see us go back to those days.

But when it comes to facts, truths, and history, Trump is an utter moron.

Which brings me around to my morning mental music stream. I don’t listen to a lot of Primus but I always liked the premise of “Moron TV”. Released in 2011, it’s a diatribe against how TV is used to shape children’s opinion. While that’s the focus, I think politics share this methodology, especially the Trump and MAGA crowd.

Sample Lyrics

Just when I thought I’d seen it all
They pull a cretin from the shelves
And flash that filth under their nails
To make us feel better about ourselves

Well that one’s fit for a sex tape
Well that one’s fit for a dad
Well that one had more babies
Than anyone’s ever had
That one married a rock star
That made all little girls squeal
And that one want to be president
Cause she’s got more eye appeal

May your day come dressed in peace and grace and you finish with joy and happiness.

Cheers

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Lastallday’s Theme Music

Touching a sword to the day’s shoulder, I dubbed Saturday Lastallday. I’m alluding to the smoke. Fires are on three sides. Two in California and one, Rum Creek, in Oregon. The newest is Mill Fire by Weed down I-5. It’s like bonfires lit the night out there as a burnt wood smell permeates existence and ash collects on plants and cars. Depresses the bejeesus out of me, hence the name, Lastallday, as in, I hope this air doesn’t last all day.

Bad as we have it, far worse for the people enduring the smoke and fire aspect of it. Evacuations are spreading, animals are fleeing, people are praying, and they’re losing homes and possessions. Another weary year of drought, fire, and smoke with reports coming in that it’s only going to get worse in the coming years.

Hi. Today is September 3, 2022. Sunrise lit our environment in red gold as Sol rays were given scarlet hues by smoke particles at 6:39 this morning. Not a cloud in the sky, we’re bathing in cool air, 17 C, which would be lovely if it wasn’t smoke laden. A high of 100 F is in the works before the night shift takes over at 7:42 PM.

My wife is bummed out. Lake of the Woods Resort isn’t far away. Each summer Saturday, they have a BBQ and then a southern Oregon band plays and everyone dances. We’d created a tradition of trekking up there a few times during summer to celebrate and have fun. Well, COVID holed the tradition for the last two years. This year, it just fell apart. Our June plans fell through, and now our Labor Day plans have gone kerplunk. She’s in a mood, which puts me in a mood. The blazing hot, smoky day does little to alleviate our outlooks. Hope it doesn’t last all day.

I really like that expression, ‘bummed out’. Certainly stocks my mind with interesting imagery.

I’m not much help for my wife. Focused on writing after denying myself the opportunity while other things were pursued at her behest. First, the push to stay in the military. Get that retirement. “You’ll write when you retire from the Air Force,” she told me. Then I retired in 1995 and wanted to move somewhere to make that plan so. “I have a career here,” she said, referring to her advertising employment in Silicon Valley, SF-San Jose California edition. “So I don’t want to move.” But also, I needed to work because that place is hella expensive. After a few years, her employment was over and I was embedded in corporate life, which lasted a few decades, because someone needed to bring in income. And here we are.

Yeah, I’m bitter. Sorry about the self-pity spiel. I’ll try not to do that again.

Checked on Mom. She and her partner are still recovering from COVID. Mom is on molnupiravir under an FDA EUA.

Catching note of my mood, The Neurons saw that I yearned for other times, for times in the near past when I could walk outside, breathe pleasant air and plan activities without worrying about wildfires, smoke, or COVID-19. The Neurons fished around those circulating thoughts and drew out Nirvana and “Come As You Are” from 1992. The Neurons argue that my thoughts reflect my mood of 1992, when the future looked so bright, I had to wear shades. Right.

Here’s the tune. Time to get some magic elixir in me, ye ol’ black brew, kaffee. Test negative, stay positive, and on and on and on. Cheers

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