Aging Reflections: the Balance.

A NYTimes headline scored my attention today:

5 Money Lessons From Readers in the Trenches of Elder-Parent Care

Regular visitors to my blog know that my family have been dealing with my aging mother for years. She’d been living a good life; a fall on some stairs changed that trajectory.

Mom fortunately had a good partner, Frank, as she moved toward her 80s. His drawbacks including increasing deafness, blindness, and being five years older than Mom.

We could see what was coming: Mom would need more and more care. The care would become more and more expensive. Frank would be less and less able to help Mom.

I spoke with Mom about it over the years, advocating to get someone in to help her clean and help her take care of herself. I also kept suggesting that they move into smaller place, such as an assisted living facility or a ‘senior’ community.

Mom resisted most of the suggestions. She didn’t want to leave her house. That home represented her life. She bought it on her own, then got her GED and went to nursing school. Mom opened her home to her grandchildren, taking care of them while my sisters went to school or worked.

I eventually convinced Mom to accept someone coming in and cleaning a few times a week. I paid for it, which helped Mom accept the help. She was also willing let that person in because it was a neighbor and someone she knew.

The arrangement ended when the cleaner suffered cancer and could no longer work. Worse, Mom was falling more often. Her recovery arcs were longer. Each hospital episode left her with more challenges. Yet her will to live was undiminished.

Things took a drastic turn last year. Frank, her partner, fell down the stairs. Hospitalized, he went into a coma and died, 95 years old.

This was devastating for us on multiple fronts and forced Mom’s health from concern to crisis.

Mom tried living alone when Frank was in the hospital and everyone hoped he would recover. Falling, though, Mom couldn’t get up several times and slept on the floor. Cooking was a struggle, so she took shortcuts such as eating sardines with crackers for dinner. She grew thinner and weaker.

My sister took her in. Sis set up a nice space for Mom. Perhaps the biggest drawback was that it was located in my sister’s finished basement. It started out fine but soon devolved into a cold war between Mom and everyone living there. Mom has been vulnerable to UTIs, and we think that was part of the problem.

Mom ended up making suicidal comments. She ended up hospitalized and then in an assisted living place where she does not want to be.

All this is just foreshadowing to me. I’ll be 70 in a few months. My wife is a year younger. One sister is two years older, and another is two years younger. The other two sisters are 8 and 10 years younger than me.

The thing is, even as Mom needs help, all of us are also reaching that point. While I’ve been hospitalized and treated for several issues in the last five years, I’ve rebounded. The same can’t be said for my wife, my sisters, and their husbands.

We’re all facing the same issues that others face in this article: how do we help our parents when we’re crossing the threshold into needing help ourselves?

This is the Silver Tsunami, a term many do not like.

I’ve considered moving to be closer to my sisters and Mom. There are many legitimate excuses for why that hasn’t happened. While our southern Oregon home is ideal for us, the location is not any longer. Just under 1900 square feet, the house is single storied with two bathrooms, and three bedrooms. One bedroom is the home office. This is where we spend our most time, reading, exercising, watching television, on the computer.

The area, though, has been enduring droughts. With the droughts have come water shortages, wildfires, and smoke. As those hit, the local economy has suffered. As a result, Ashland is facing a financial crisis. Adding to that crisis is that two major employers, Southern Oregon University (SOU) and the town’s hospital, Assante Ashland Community Hospital, faced their own crises. Those crises forced them to drawdown in significant ways, with more on the way.

At this point, the future is not ideal. As the article points out, we’re not alone in our problems, both with our own health and aging, but also with helping our parents.

What’s troubling me as much as anything is how the GOP has responded. Trump has cut social services to the aging population. He instead wants to spend more money on the military. Equally troubling is that the GOP goes along with this.

There’s already a growing rural hospital crisis in the United States. With Trump in office, madly spending, the national debt has crossed the point where it is now larger than our Gross National Product.

Yet, Trump’s spending priorities are geared toward bailing out countries, starting wars or using the military as a stick to threaten other nations. These do nothing to help our nation’s aging citizens. Trump’s policies have instead resulted in higher prices across the spectrum, which makes everything worse for anyone living a marginalized life. Including people like Mom.

Projections show that it’ll probably get worse, with more citizens requiring healthcare and living assistance. Natural supply and demand for personnel, food, assistance, and medical care will further drive up costs.

It’s a terrible spiral. As wealth becomes more concentrated in the hands of billionaires who care mostly for themselves and their businesses, the rest of us will keep sliding further into debt and crisis.

Sadly, that is Trump’s America. As it now stands, it’s the future for far too many.

Some may say that I’m being fatalistic. I reply, I’m just reading the news and watching the trends.

Thursday’s Theme Music –

Ashland, Oregon — Thursday, April 2, 2026.

Cold morning with sunshine glinting off a wet ground. Thirty-five F. High will be about 55 F. Most trees remain bare branched. Blued white smoke boils out of planned fires in the mountains.

Friends were telling me last night that NOAA has put out a warning for Oregon rivers. Our extended snow-drought is going to cause water levels to drop on the rivers. That will really slice into the outdoor tourism industry in southern Oregon.

A friend passed away the other day. We just learned of it last night. 88, he’s been ill since I met him in 2007. A Republican and Trump supporter, he and I didn’t socialize much, and his illness kept him at home except for medical treatments for the last six years. Strange that he’s a Trumper, as he’s intelligent and compassionate. I never thought of him as racist, but he hated Affirmative Action. He called reverse discrimination. This was one of the many things we disagreed about. Still, his wife is a very nice person, and his son — a Republican — has worked hard with my friend to help the homeless. RIP, Bill.

Mom is quiet again, but she is applying for a senior living apartment. She’d have her own place and live by herself. I’m not enthralled with the idea, but she and my sisters like it. We’ll see what happens next.

Speaking of what happens, Trump gave a dud of a speech about the war with Iran he started. Meandering, he offered vague assertions about winning without clarification about what was won. He basically claims, ‘we’re safer now’ but doesn’t offer any facts to back that up. He also said that he might bomb Iran more. Why, if we’re safer now?

Today’s song comes from Todd Rundgren. “I Saw the Light” is in the morning mental music stream. I don’t know why. It doesn’t relate to anything from the dream side of things. Released in 1972, it was part of the radio rotation for a few years but never really spoke to me.

Hope your day is going well. May you flourish in the times to come.

Cheers


Look!

Driving back home, I pulled up to stop behind other cars. My attention drifted from traffic to the mountains to the north.

Gasp.

Snow.

Not much, mind you, but snow was topping the northern mountains. Excitement building, I leaned forward to look east as traffic moved.

Yes, more snow capped Pilot Rock and the eastern mountains.

Been too long since snow crowned those mountains. More rain is expected tomorrow, moving in from the south later this week. Weather forecasters are calling for snow, but only at higher elevations. Still, if a bit more of the mountains are covered, I’ll be a much less worried camper.

Saturday’s Theme Music

It’s Saturday, January 31, 2026. Almost time to close the books on 2026’s first month.

Colder air returned to Ashland as last night’s temps found the mid-thirties. We’re already close to our high now, 57 F. This remains a hell of a lot better than places like Pennsylvania, where my sister told me it was 9 degrees F during our text exchange.

It’s still a dry winter for us in Ashland. Mt. Ashland, our local ski resort, is closed due to a lack of snow. Even snow machines couldn’t create the needed conditions. That doesn’t spell good news for our local tourism, and that ripples out to employment and the economy.

Our local economy is already suffering with tourism and college enrollment down, utility prices up, and wheat exports cratered. Southern Oregon wheat farmers had a bad 2025 as fertilizer prices jumped and wheat prices fell. It can take years to recover from setbacks like these for farmers, and right now, the Trump solution is a handout. Long term solutions aren’t being addressed. It feels like we’re dying from a thousand cuts.

As American states dig out from Winter Storm Fern’s effects, I’m watching for the Trump Effect (TE). The TE is the combination of unforeseen circumstances brought on by short-sighted decisions and the Trump philosophy. Short-sighted decisions were witnessed when Trump unleashed Elon Musk and DOGE last year. Firing people and breaking systems, the Trump Administration then needed to rehire people to come back and fix things — or train people to replace them.

The Trump philosophy (TP) is about the Federal government’s cutback on services and assistance given to states. For example, the Mississippi Emergency Management Agent (MEMA) said the Trump administration announced the disaster assistance threshold for Mississippi was increased from $5.5 million to $22 million. That leaves a gap that MEMA doesn’t think it can cover.

As with everything — deep breath — we’ll see.

Trying to raise my spirits, Papi the ginger wonder and I played this morning, a game of chase with a laser pointer. Papi endured it for about 2.25 minutes but during that time, he was a wild thing. Watching him, Les Neurons popped “Gimme Dat Ding” by the Pipkins, a 1970 novelty song. It was perfect for Papi’s red dot pursuit — “Gimme dat! Gimme dat!”

Hope you have a comfortable day wherever you are, no matter the season, and that peace and grace come along with some props. Cheers

Satyrdaz Theme Music

Satyrda, September 27, 2025. 72 F and sunny with an autumn blue sky. 88 F is the expeceted peak temperature for Ashlandia.

Another night of dreams means another hour of recording the details and thinking through meanings. Meanwhile, The Neurons served up “Changes” by Yes. Not just for the closing of another coffee haunt, but several other local restaurants put up permanently closed signs. Both were good sources for vegan and vegetarian meals, which made them good for me and my wife, who is a vegetarian who eats fish and eggs. One was GoBowld, a terrific place for fresh organic food. I think it lasted less than a year. Second one, Sauce Whole Food which lasted several years before closing last week, another good place for fresh, tasty food with unique fusion blends, gone. Both were located where other businesses have cycled through, trying and failing to make a go. The locations seem fine but appear to be cursed. Anyway, all this prompted The Neurons to put “Changes” into my morning mental music stream.

My wife collected fruit and vegan cookies for Steve’s wife, Andi. Steve passed a week ago. Andy has multiple food allergies so they took this route. My spouse purchased a used basket from Goodwill and put it all together with a bow on it. We’ve made arrangements to deliver it to Andi today.

A whole pineapple is the centerpiece but it’s hard to see behind the shiny plastic. There’s also someone’s offering of homemade plum jam.

Pleased to see that the court ruled multiple statements Mike Lindell made about Smartmatic and Lindell’s bogus stolen election claims are defamatory. You’d think that would be lesson for Lindell and the whole stolen election contingent, but no, many of them don’t learn. They’re just like their master, DJ TACO Trump. Instead of learning, they’ll claim the legal system doesn’t work or the deep state didn’t give Lindell a fair trial.

May peace and grace find its way to us and lift us up and carry us on into a better life. Till then, I’m relying on coffee. Here we go. Cheers

Dark Day

In a blow to many, ‘our’ Starbucks is closing. Starbucks announced this week that they’re closing one percent of its US locations. Today I learned that this one is on the list. Besides this one, two Starbucks are closing in Medford, up the road.

My thoughts first go to the employees. They’ve always been great people, regardless of the corporation hiring them, energetic, intelligent, personable. With other locations closing, getting relocated to another will be a challenge for them.

Second, this will be a blow to the Ashland homeless. This location has always been hospitable to homeless beings and their needs, offering warmth and shelter from rain and snow, and a place to recharge phones and get a glass of water.

The local economy will take a hit from this. Tax revenues will diminish. Unemployment will rise. And we all have one less place to go for coffee and socializing.

For me, this is the fourth coffee shop location to fail while I’ve lived in Ashland. First up was The Beanery. Ironically, it’s location is right across the street from this Starbucks, which was a bank back then. Just a mile from my house, it was my habit to walk to the Beanery and back almost daily, get coffee, socialize a little, write a lot. Great people worked there, too, and the other customers helped create an uplifting vibe. The coffee and pastries were monstrously good, too. It was my routine for over nine years. It ended when The Beanery abruptly closed in May, 2015.

Adjusting, I began frequenting the Boulevard Coffee. The walk was longer, two miles, but it, too, offered a friendly place for a coffee-seeking writer, a place to work and linger. Run by Allison and her husband, it ceased business suddenly in January of 2021. After that, I shifted to Key of C, but it shut down, and then the downtown Starbucks was tried. Both of those were a 2.4 mile walk each way. Other coffee shops opened and were tried, but all shut down. Next up came Noble’s Coffee. It’s still open but it’s further away, and it’s packed. Many times, I wedged myself into part of a counter space to work, hurrying to a table when it came open. That was a frustrating experience.

The pandemic was in full swing by then. I began coming here, to this Starbucks, when businesses began cautiously re-opening with spaces between us. It was basically my only choice. RoCo opened up, a good local place, and I’ll probably shift to there. Smaller, more crowded, it’s not as conducive to my needs and desires. Or, I’ll go back to Noble’s.

This business space will be available. It’s a good location, less than half a mile from here, a middle school, and an elementary school. It’s just a mile from Interstate 5, and draws a lot of business from travelers.

Who knows what will open here? As the manager told me this morning about this Starbucks, its volume doesn’t bring in enough to make the rent. That’s a common problem here, as local landlords gouge businesses. Something else will probably open. A coffee shop? Maybe. Who knows. When is a more difficult question. We have multiple empty business locations in Ashland as tourism, our main industry, takes hit after hit.

Like the employees and other customers, I’ll adjust. It won’t be the same; it never is. But sometimes it works out and becomes a place that’s not the same, but just as good.

I will miss this place. I’ll really miss the people.

A Couple Signs

My wife and several of her friends lunched together to catch up. They dined at a small local restaurant called Sauce. It’s normally a very popular lunch site.

“It was weird,” my wife related. “Besides us three, there were only two other people in the restaurant. None of us had ever seen it so empty at lunch time.”

It got better (worse?). After she ate, my wife went clothes shopping. Few places in Ashland offer new clothes; we instead have several ‘used-clothes’ boutiques, such as the Good Will. She says she’s outraged by the new clothes being sold, less by the prices and more by how cheaply they’re made. She’s bought stuff and had it fall apart after one or two outings. This infuriates her.

Her second point about buying used clothes is that it makes her feel better about being a consumer. “I’d rather buy used clothes and give them a second life, than have those clothes thrown away and filling landfills.”

I agree with that. She went on, “Besides that, we have an older population in Ashland. Most are retired professionals who have generous retirement incomes. A lot of times, I can find new clothes with the tags still on them.” And, because of those factors which she cited, the used clothes tend to be from better brands.

So she went shopping at her favorite used-clothing store today, Deja Vu in the Ashland Shopping Center on Ashland Street. When she returned home, she said, “Michael, you should have seen it. They had so many pieces of used clothing, the store was filled. They had it piled everywhere. But there were only two or three other people shopping. I heard an employee say to another customer, ‘Nobody is buying. Everyone is selling.'”

Don’t know how much these anecdotes reveal about the state of the union, but they say volumes about what’s happening in little Ashland, Oregon.

Wenzda’s Theme Music

It’s Wenzda, July 9, 2025. It’s a difficult day for people like me, who like to complain. I have so much to complain about. I’ll start with weather, although it’s not bad now, 77 F, soon to be 88 F. No, it’s the thunderstorms from the other day, which torched multitudes of fires. The storm was like Jesus making more out of nothing. Smoke now tints the blue sky and white clouds with ugly shades of dirty, old concrete. You smell the burning wood; it’s inescapable. The air quality isn’t bad now, 67, enough jab your eyes into itchiness, tease your nose into irritation, stuff your sinuses into running, and bully your throat into scratchiness.

Neil Creek is the closest fire, right off I5 at mile marker 10. Ashlandia’s first northbound exit is 11. One southbound lane of I5 is closed for two miles.

Neil Creek fire, southern Oregon, July 9, 2025.

We’re also trending up in our temperatures. TV weather guy gleefully told us we’re going into the low 100s this week, well over the historic average, but not as bad as last year, when we were running 108 plus. It’s the prototypical 2020s Ashlandia summer. I’ll have a lot to complain about.

Over in politics, it’s a complaint smorgasbord. A complaintasbord.

Like, Trump promised 200 trade and tariff deals by now. He has 3. He’s batting .015. If he was a major leaguer — no, if he was batting that on any time, he’d be pulled from the field and find himself fast out of the game as a never was, never will be. That abysmal performance doesn’t keep the MAGAts and GOP that fill his Greedy Ol’ Trump Party, known in its shorthand as the GOTP, from declaring his Donnie the greater player ever, even greater than Babe Ruth. They don’t mention people like Hank Aaron, because, their heroes are only white.

So easy to complain about Trump. Donnie boy makes ridiculous speeches. He sends ridiculous letters. Transmit absurd texts. Like his latest embarassment he sent out to other countries regarding tariffs. If he was a businessman, people would trash it or post socially about it, mocking it. Oh, yeah, they did.

Another complaint about Trump is the promise of how little he cares, how little he pays attention. Texas was struggling with death and destruction from flash floods. He went off to golf. Said he’ll visit there Friday, a week after it all unfolded. FEMA finally got there. It surprised me that the Trump Regime FEMA bothered to show at all. But it is gerrymandered red MAGALand.

I simply must laugh and complain about Trump being nominated for the Nobel Peace prize. International war criminal Netanyahu nominated the convicted felon and genuine idiot for the prize. If Trump is awareded that prize, the Nobel Committee might as well close up shop and slink away in disgrace. The black mark against them won’t wash off for generations.

The Neurons called up a dedication for Epstein and Trump. Trump wants us to forget about his relationship with Epstein and the parties they attended together. Says he barely knows the guy. With his weaponized DOJ loaded with MAGAts to defend him, the Epstein List suddenly vanished. What a Trumpian way to handle things. Why didn’t he just say the dog ate it. Oh, probably because dogs don’t want to have anything to do with him. They’re too smart.

Thanks to janewiedlin on Instagram.

So, this song is dedicated to Trump, Epstein, Maxwell, and their shared past. Fresh out of 1997, here is Marcy’s Playground with “Sex and Candy”, from my morning mental music stream to yours.

Coffee is being consumed and the writing position is being assumed. May your day give you all you need. Cheers

Frida’s Wandering Thoughts

The parade is over. The fireworks await us tonight. Cloud cover has passed away so viewing shouldn’t be a problem. The arguments over whether they’re entertaining and patriotic or an environmental hazard and an ordeal for animals continues.

2025’s Ashland Independence Day parade was remarkable for its thin festivities and shortness. Didn’t even go an hour this year even though four bands entertained us with march and show music. The are the same four bands heard every year. Indivisible had a “No Kings” display and vocalized that, encouraging us to join. La Clinica was barely there. Climate awareness scuffled past, as did Peace Corps members who knew their legacy was being defunded and dismissed.

Applause was muted; many participants seemed tired, trudging, not marching, forcing dull smiles out as they remembered to toss a feeble smile. Some performers, like the elderly female dancers, were still into it, zinging us with smiles and waving with happiness, but they were the rarity. Mayors from Medford, Phoenix, Talent, and Ashland all drove by, along with other minor local government functionaries. The cars, an Austin Healey 3000, two Jag E types, and a Bugatti GTC, brought comments, along with the vintage and antique cars that gassed us with exhaust fumes out of the 1940s.

The weather stayed cool but the sunshine was hot, a crisply contradictary way of being, which felt perfectly symbolic for this national holiday in 2025.

Mundaz’s Theme Music

Feb. 10, 2025, is a wintry Mundaz in Ashlandia. White sky holds no promises. White sky offers no sun. White sky offers no solace.

No precipitation is falling but we’re hovering at a toasty 23 F, ten degrees below our average low for this calendar date. Snow that fell last week still has a meaty white presence on the ground. The pine trees have finally shed that winter weight. Last week’s snow and ice had many pines bent to half of their height.

As for today, ‘they’ tell us that the sunshine will overcome the white sky and take us to 43 F, ten degrees below our normal average high.

Sorry that KC Chiefs were so dominated by the Philly Eagles in the SB yesterday. Unfortunately, PINO Trump predicted they’d win. That doomed them. As we’ve seen repeatedly demonstrated, Trump bestows the kiss of death on everything.

The Neurons surprised me with today’s music. It started as a tangent off some floofcourse between me and my felines. I asked them, “What’s wrong now?” Their answer came as pouty stares and circling watchfulness, which just dumped Les Neurons into bafflement. As I shifted to news reports with growing, heavier sighs, I thought, “Too many problems.”

A song began in my morning mental music stream. “What’s wrong, what’s wrong now? Too many problems.” As it pulled up volume and melody, I hunted the who, what, whens behind it. Unable to answer those myself, I turned to the net. It educated me that the song was “Nobody’s Home” by Avril Lavigne from 2004. I guess I heard it in the car. Back in that decade, I moved to Ashlandia and began doing regular I-5 commutes from my place in southern Oregon to visit with my team in Mountain View, between SF and SJ on the peninsula. Guess I heard it then.

Hope you can get positive that something good will come about and it won’t take a miracle from some deity or an eternity to happen. Coffee and I have embraced again. Off we go, into the wild white yonder, a fresh start on another day.

Cheers

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