Tag: thinking

Twozdaz Theme Music

A tight light gray sheet is pulled down over Ashland. Woven of clouds, rain, and fog, it reduces sunlight to graylight. As light rain sings, the temperature hangs at 38 F with a high of 38 F looming. This is Twozda, December 23, 2025.

Thinking of Mom, life, and politics led me into paths of cogitation about how we shape others’ impressions of us. Sometimes our impressions of others actually undermine our ability to see who they are and what they mean. History with them, and disappointments with them, seem to frequently color our greater impressions and reactions. Emotions overtake thinking. Anger sets in and calcifies. Then we limit engagements, refuse to talk to them. Why should we? They’ve proven who they are to us.

Yet, we know that one of the greatest constants of existence is change. Many of us try and succeed to change ourselves for the better. Sometimes we awaken from whatever cocoon held us and realize, “Oh, shit. What did I do?” Then we hunt avenues to fix whatever mess we created.

Not all, I guess. I’ve known some terminally ignorant people who refused to ever admit they were ever wrong, let alone try to fix things. But others saw them for that toxicity and drifted from them until they stood alone, stewing in their rage about how they knew they’re right and everyone else is wrong. I think Trump is deeply into that circle. The thing is, his wealth and power keep extending his life. He’s surrounded himself with enablers. To admit that he’s wrong is to admit they’re wrong. And they’re shying off from that.

Like Trump, like Mom, like me and others I know, underlying our behavior are health challenges. I’m dealing with mine and seem to be rapidly improving. But I know others who are skating downhill, picking up speed, piling up the problems. It’s harder to see those things in others, whether their causes are emotional, neurological, matters with digestion, depression, or the simpler and more insidious problem…getting old. Even when you know ‘what’s wrong with them’ in clear and lucid terms, it’s hard to grasp the many ways that what’s wrong with them interferes with their being, causes them suffering, and makes them seem to lash out. Some people magnify what they’re going through, hungry for attention. Others hide it as deeply as possible, shunning attention and sympathy, disgusted that they might be *gasp* pitied. We’re complicated beings in a complicated world.

I have Fall Out Boy in the morning mental music stream. “Save Rock and Roll” featuring Elton John is the breakfast soundtrack. It hinges on the pins of my reflections and a lyric that goes, “You are what you love, not who loves you.” Not sure how it fits into my morning morass of mingling musings.

Rock and roll never forgets even if peace and grace seem to. Got my coffee. Here we go, into the gray future once again. Cheers

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Satyrdaz Theme Music

Satyrda, December 20, 2025 finds us under a blue sky marbled with fine white clouds. Sunshine licks the land with lavish light. Not much warmth, though, as we find ourselves floating through the low to mid-thirties right now. Highs in the low to mid-fifties have been cast.

The storms up north in Oregon and Washington abated for the moment but a parade of storms are forecast for them, all part of the atmospheric river. Send energy their way that the disaster doesn’t deepen and become even more tragic for them.

The December calm continues for Mom and sis. Each are privately giving credit to me in their texts along the lines of, “I don’t know what you said to her, but she’s being much nicer to me.” I only suggested that both of them are trying their best, both are frustrated, and please, find some patience and sympathy for the other. Although they initially snapped at the advice — “I am being patient, it’s her!” — I think they went off and thought about it. Or maybe it was just serendipity that I gave that advice but other things intervened to change their moods. Who knows? I’m just accepting the fragile peace with hope that it grows, deepens, and develops into something more sustained.

I read of Trump’s asinine suggestion for his Trump Games. Another distraction from the shallow thinker. Upon reading of it, I wondered if someone joked to him about it with The Hunger Games in mind and he jumped on it as a great idea, “The greatest, most beautiful, most patriotic games EVER!!!” Christ, I hope no one mentions Running Man to him.

In Trump’s honor, The Neurons suggested the 1980 song “Games People Play” by The Alan Parsons Project for the morning mental music stream.

Lyrics

Where do we go from here now that all of the children are growin’ up?
And how do we spend our lives if there’s no one to lend us

I don’t want to live here no more
I don’t want to stay
Ain’t gonna spend the rest of my life
Quietly fading away

Games people play
You take take it or you leave it
Things that they say, honor bright
If I promise you the moon and the stars
Would you believe it
Games people play in the middle of the night

~snip~

h/t to sonichits.com

I’m personally impressed with the song choice The Neurons made. Trump does all his game playing at night, diddling on Truth Social, ranting and raving, promising money to people to curry their support. Then he betrays them faster than an eyeblink.

By the way, going back to the Trump Games, did he mention building a new stadium for it yet? Bet that’s bubbling in his tiny noggin. Yes, he has said he wants an NFL stadium renamed in hizzoner. But it wouldn’t surprise me if he doesn’t instead have something torn down to have a giant stadium constructed in his name. Donors would pay for it, of course *cough cough gag gag*. And it would be “THE BIGGEST AND MOST BEAUTIFUL STATIUM IN HISTORY!!!” Probably have Trump’s name in gold everywhere, along with his portrait. Likely built with ‘illegal immigrant’ labor. He’ll give them a deal. “Build my stadium for room and board and I’ll reward you with U.S. citizenship.”

But as we know, it’ll all be lies and broken promises in the end.

Coffee has appeared in my cup and is making the traditional way to my innards. Hope peace and grace slip out from their spider holes and show up in our lives sometime soon. Till then, peace out. Cheers

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Mundaz Wandering Thoughts

Brace yourself for another first world rant. Technology oriented. Well, Microsoft.

Bought a new computer this past summer because I was using Windows 10 and it was aging out. In other words, Microsoft was sunsetting support for Windows 10.

Yeah, I complained and contemplated shifting operating systems again. I’ve done it numerous times. The other piece of that is apps and programs. I’ve been through multiple iterations of those things over the years, too. At this point, I wanted stability and continuity without me needing to think about problems and pursue answers. Yes, shorter answer: I’m lazy.

I did investigate and discover that my laptop of that period, then ten years old, suffered from an old architecture. Hardware differences would challenge any notion of easily shifting browsers and apps. I contemplated adding more RAM and doing other things, but I wasn’t into that sport.

So I sucked it in and bought a new laptop with Windows 11.

Here’s the crux of this rant: Microsoft 11 is buggy. Unstable. Tabs crash. The browser window crashes. Word crashes.

Like, WTF?

As I experienced this, I looked for answers on the web. Why is this happening? What is the fix? Searches found the usual suggestions to clear out caches, etc., exercises which point to them not knowing what’s going on and offering suggestions which they hope might fix it.

What bullshit.

Finally saw an article today that Microsoft agrees, there might be a problem.

Microsoft admits system bug causing Windows 11 instability

This is exactly the kind of thing that drove me away again — and again — from Microsoft. You’d think I’d learn my lesson.

So I’m wrestling with myself all over again. Keep using Windows and cursing it, or take the time to install and start using a new browser and apps?

As Jill Dennison would put it, GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

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Five Short Dreams

Experienced five short dreams last night. That’s contrary to recent habits which had long, meandering dreams. I’ll only bore you with one.

This was military related. I was tasked with retrofitting a secure file cabinet fitted with a combination lock to ensure it could store Top Secret/Special Compartmentalized Information, along with Communications Security items (COMSEC), militaryese for code books. Some old military guy was half-heartedly overseeing my activity. Meanwhile, I was on shift with a young member. I expected the young airman to handle all the day’s routine events but had to address that with him several times, issuing reminders to complete the shift checklist, inventory our weapons, standard Air Force command post stuff during my career.

Then I attacked the file cabinet. It’d been previously cleared for classified but wasn’t considered robust enough for our new needs. I’d never done anything like this and lacked instructions. Pulling out drawers, I saw a sort of white, thick lining on them. I needed to pry that out, I decided, and hunted down a hammer, along with a large screwdriver, to pry the stuff out. But then, lo, when I went to apply the brute force and leverage, the pieces slipped right out.

I thought that would be the hard part and was delighted it went so well. Then, though, I had to do paperwork to document this thing’s new existence and use. I had the proper forms but someone had marked all over them and it wasn’t clear to me what to do.

As I puzzled that out, that old military guy came in and queried me about how it was going. I related that I’d finished the safe part. Somehow a crowd gathered to one side. The old guy boasted that he could probably crack the vault in less than three minutes and proceeded to make that effort. I drifted away from that effort to finish the paperwork, deciding, make a decision and do the best I can.

Dream end

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A Dream of An Uncle

Don’t know what’s in my water. Dreams continue rolling through me. This one featured a deceased but appreciated and missed Uncle. Died of a brain tumor ’bout a decade ago or so. He was one of those people who always demonstrated belief in what I could do and pride in when I do things, a good person to have around when you’re young and feeling your way.

We were at a celebration. Seemed to be a family birthday party. My uncle was hosting. He was young, energetic, and charming, the perpetual image contained in my memories of him, sunglasses covering his eyes, teeth clamped on a cigar. Don’t know who the party was for. Seemed like cousins were there. Weird thing is, it seemed to be held in a Japan or Mexico.

It came time for the cake. That was prepared for a local bakery. My uncle asked if anyone could pay for it. Yes, I volunteered; I can. I scrambled to find the money, just $25. Impatiently, he left, and went to get the cake. Finding the money at last, I rushed after him, encountering him as he left the store. “I have the money,” I told him.

“Too late,” he replied. “I paid.”

He seemed sad, disappointed. I suggested that I could pay the shopkeeper and he could give my uncle his money back. The shopkeeper, watching and listening in this tiny establishment, agreed. No, my uncle decided. It’d be too complicated. What’s done is done.

End

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Twozdaz Wandering Thoughts

Starbucks hurt my feelings.

They spent capital convincing us that Starbucks cared about the community. More, they cared about people. They opened their doors to homeless folks. Come in and rest. Be safe, comfortable, warm, dry, cool. Charge your phones here! Use our restrooms! We care! They put out announcements telling us that they want people to come and stay, make it a place to meet, a place to be. And we believed them. We did.

As did the homeless. I’d see them trickle in each day, a regular group I came to know by name. I learned their preferred seating locations, treated them to food and/or drink from time to time, said hello, chatted about the hot dry days, the freezing fog, the traffic, dogs, etc. Chatted about life.

Then Starbucks swiveled. That campaign wasn’t reaping the benefits they’d hoped to get. Within days, the restroom doors were locked and coded. Had to ask for the number at the counter. The homeless were politely shooed out, police called if they resisted.

Then, though, oh, look at the numbers. Starbucks decided they needed to close the place they’d encouraged us to make a home away from home, a community center for everyone and anyone. It just wasn’t making enough money.

It feels like it’s a betrayal. It’s not. Just business as usual. And that’s the thing about corporations. It’s all about making money. Profits and losses.

It’s not about humanity. That’s just strategy. Don’t let them fool you into thinking otherwise.

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Old Friend in A Store: A Dream

I woke up with an old friend in mind.

Was he still alive?

Would he still be my friend?

We were high-school classmates. Graduated in 1974. I haven’t seen him since 1979, when I was home from the military. He was a good friend for the times, at the time. But we have all changed, haven’t we?

I dreamed I encountered Keith at a store. Don’t know what kind of store. We were both the young people we were in high school. Someone else was with him, hanging back in the shadows, behind him. I don’t know who they were. Keith told me he was running for office. I was very surprised. Keith, reserved, a little shy, with a sharp mind and a dry sense of humor, didn’t seem destined for politics. I asked why he was doing that. He gave me a detailed response about problems he’d had with several local businesses. He’d felt cheated but everything the businesses had done were legal, so he was running for office so he could change things. As he gave his response, he showed me his phone, where there were records and newspaper and media articles about the businesses and Keith’s issues. I said something about him using his phone as evidence. He replied, “Good lord, no. I have too much porn on it to ever show anyone my phone.”

Dream end.

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A Dream of Cougars

Sunset was turning the day into a purple cloud darkness. I was getting into a large, shiny black SUV. My wife was with me, and some others, but they’re unknown. As the mechanics of starting the vehicle and guiding it out of a parking lot to a road was finished, I realized that something was on the vehicle’s front end. That something progressed fast from ‘something’ to a full-grown cougar. With that registering, I stopped the car and told the rest what I saw, then stepped out of the vehicle to cautiously approach the animal. Alive, it clung to the front with its claws. I told it, “Shoo.” To my amazement, the cougar departed its space, trotting away from me, amusing, mysterious, bewildering.

Returning to the vehicle, I drove for some time. Arriving somewhere during daytime, my wife and I left the vehicle to shop in some little stores. Not particularly interested in shopping, I found a cushioned bench where I sat. Feeling drowsy, I laid down to nap. I awoke after some unknown time because a small stripped tabby cat was curled up against me and purring in my ear. Fully awake, I put and scratched the sweet, loving animal. It trotted off, tail high, after a short time.

My wife came and I told her what happened. She was marginally interested, annoying me. We went out and found ourselves on the top tier of a large sports arena. Some football game was underway. I gathered this was a college or university. Skirting the game, my wife and I went down to register for classes. When I walked into the administration building, a large cougar leaped into my arms and held onto me. I was so astonished and a little wary but the animal wasn’t threatening. After some seconds of holding the cougar as it held me, a female administrator came by and told the animal to leave me alone, which it did, trotting off down a hall, disappearing through an open door.

After talking about classes, my wife and I, accompanied by a female friend, went out to walk some trails that crossed the campus. These took us into some small, rocky mountains. The day grew hot under a bright sun. My wife decided to sit and rest. I went on a bit. Looking back, I saw that she’d fallen asleep so I laid down to nap. I took off my pants, leaving me in a shirt and underwear, but covered myself with a light blanket. The friend came up. She teased and flirted with me, suggesting she wanted to join me. While I rejected her, I also wanted her, and found the entire encounter intensely erotic.

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