I go to RoCo in Ashland for my coffee these days. One barista, Jasper, is young actor, singer, and dancer. This week found him getting a phone call from someone putting on a play in New England. They wanted him for a role.
Thrilled and surprised, he accepted. He began to share the news with friends and co-workers. Part of his process is to explain that he will be in “To Kill A Mockingbird”, a play by Aaron Sorkin. He often begins, “Do you know who Aaron Sorkin is?” The response often I along the lines of “I think I know the name” or “No.”
I was relating this to my wife. When I said “Aaron Sorkin,” she instantly barked, “West Wing.” She continued, “Martin Sheen as President Bartlett. That should be required watching in civics for how a president should act.”
She then went on to tell me about her favorite scene. I looked it up for her and share it with you.
It’s a good one to watch during Pride Month in the Trump era.
Sunshine baths the east. Dark, stormy clouds claim the rest of the horizon. It’s 58 F outside with a mild, pleasantly balmy wind. 62 is expected to be the high as rain returns to the valley.
We’re going into eight weeks in the Trump Iran war. Trump and Iran each are declaring victory. As it was a month ago, the Strait of Hormuz remains closed. The ceasefire that Trump declared is fracturing as Iranian ships fire on tanks and US ships fire on Iranian ships and seize them.
Trump’s comments are the war seem almost meaningless. He doesn’t seem to understand what’s going on sometimes, making contradictory claims. He’s proving himself to be as poor at managing a war or negotiating a ceasefire as he was running his businesses. The difference here: he can’t save himself in a bankruptcy court. There are no contractors he can stiff and walk away from. The art of the con has been fully exposed.
Stock markets don’t know to go up or down. Oil prices immediately rose.
So, we sit on Monday morning, waiting to see what will happen on Monday afternoon.
Meanwhile, the Epstein files are still out there, waiting for all to be revealed.
My wife and I watched Shrinking last night. Today’s song was featured. My wife sang along with it; when the show was over, she walked around the house singing it. Somehow The Neurons ended up mindlessly playing it over and over in the morning mental music stream.
From out of 2011, here is Christina Perri with “A Thousand Years”.
The lyrics cycling through my brain:
I have died every day waiting for you Darling, don’t be afraid I have loved you for a thousand years I’ll love you for a thousand more
Time stands still Beauty in all she is I will be brave I will not let anything take away What’s standing in front of me Every breath, every hour has come to this
The song was originally written and featured on “Twilight”, which I’ve never seen. I found an interesting ‘cover’ of the song and thought I’d share it here.
My wish for you is that you find yourself on Tuesday healthy, happy, safe, and free.
My sister and I were talking about how Mom sometimes talks to Alexa as if it’s a person. That reminded me of this old SNL skit. Hope you laugh as much as I did.
I’m watching a 2019 television show called Years and Years.Terrific cast, led by Emma Thompson and Rory Kinnear. British, it’s set in Manchester, England. I’m watching it on Netflix.
They set us up in the first episode. Things are swinging to the right. Donald Trump, POTUS, is in a pissing contest with the Chinese. On Trump’s last day in office, he launches a nuke.
That sounds so Trumpian, it’s plain damn scary. I can see Trump doing that and then crowing about being strong and manly, a peace president who is only killing 40,000 to 45,000 to show the Chinese who is boss.
Right-wing ugliness, inflamed with financial instability, spreads around the world. Banks fail. Recession blooms like flowers in a warm wet spring. Along the way, a daughter decides to become trans. Not transexual or transgender, but transhuman. Another daughter is a spirited protestor who ends up with radiation sickness after filming the nuclear strike.
Refugees, torture, intolerance, hate, and spite are on display, along with differences of opinions, treachery, hope, and humanity. It’s a pretty amazing, compelling brew of life.
If it just wasn’t so damn prescience about what could happen with a madman like Trump holding the controls to a nuclear arsenal.
39 F and the heater is on. Blue skies and sunshine dominate, and we’re expected to reach the mid to upper 70s today.
Mom dominated thoughts and energy yesterday, and this morning, so far. My sisters began texting about three hours ago and are still going at it. There’s a lot of dark humor in today’s text, though. Mom once told one of her husbands that if they made a television show of our family, it would be “Combat!” A sister replied, “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”. Yes, I answered, and there’s our issue: Mom sees one thing and we see another.
Gina took supplies to Mom this morning but didn’t talk with her. Gina reports that she thought she saw a staff member spotted her entering the building and hurried away.
I’m fuming over Trump news. First, he voted by mail in Florida’s elections, which is something he’s trying to do away with. It just leaves me incredulous. But when asked about it, he said, “I’m president.”
Bingo. That is his response to everything. He sees a different standard for himself, and by extension, his people. Voting by mail, okay for him — bad for everyone else.
He exercises an infuriating double standard. With the GOP’s help, and SCOTUS, he’s made a mockery of the office and what it’s supposed to be, a servant of the people. He clearly sees it the other way, as is evident by his behavior and policies.
Now he’s putting his signature on the money, adding to where his name shows up in the nation. It’s all about him.
We see it, too, in the war with Iran. “They gave me a very nice gift”. The gift was letting supposedly Iran letting tankers through the Strait of Hormuz.
Not a gift to him, except in his ego-crazed mind.
And he’ll end the war “when he feels it in his bones”. Not about the war and its objectives, the nation, or even Iran; it’s about him.
Oddly, The Neurons provided me with a song that goes in a different direction in the morning mental music stream. Although I recall several dreams — one involving collecting diamonds and another about traveling and eating pie — I have George Harrison singing “What Is Life”. My subconscious might be feeding off those opening lines, “What I feel, I can’t say.”
I can’t say. *smile*
May your day progress with peace, grace, and happiness. See you at the protests tomorrow, Saturday, March 28, 2026.
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.
Michael Seidel, writer 