Tag: time

Saturda’s Theme Music

Yesterday was a hot one, as they advertised. Today, Saturda, May 31, 2025, is expected to cool into the mid-80s. It’s 72 F and sunny now, and the clouds have ran away for grayer skies.

It’s May’s last day. Five months of 2025 are history. It’s been as chaotic as a Black Friday sale in the United States. As we spring into summer, I’m not enthused about what will come out of the Gold House, as Nan calls it. Her reasoning is spot on. It ssed to be the White House, but the present occupant, PINO TACO, is remaking it in the right’s craven, gold-worshipping image. They say that’s what the Bible says to do.

From Gold House, I crossed to Heart of Gold. My Neurons went onto a Neil Young kick. Soon they had “Old Man” playing in the morning mental music stream. The music faded for a while as I rambled through a litany of problems, stories, and challenges. Some were personal and narrowly defined from my novel-writing half of living. Thoughts about Mom’s health boiled in, and then came sympathy for a friend who is enduring a mess in his life. Prosaic matters like fixing the oven — the part has arrived — took over. Then there’s the ever-growing worries about the human rights, war, climate change, the nation, the world, and measles.

I read in MedicalXPress this morning:

There are 1,088 confirmed measles cases in the U.S., up 42 from last week, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said Friday. Texas, where the nation’s biggest outbreak raged during the late winter and spring, reported 10 additional cases this week for a total of 738.

There are three other major outbreaks in North America.

The Neurons shot a gap to bring “Don’t Let It Get You Down” by Neil Young into the morning mental music stream. It’s a 1970 song which will probably get you down, because it makes you listen, think, and feel. I once heard a DJ say that Young announced this song by saying, “This song is guaranteed to bring you down. It’s called “Don’t Let It Get You Down”.” It was a song I preferred to hear with a glass of red wine, either overlooking a body of water at sunset, or in a dark room, alone.

Into the day I go, with a cuppa coffee to help me carry the load. Funny, but our existence is fleeting in the great rush of time and space, but sometimes it seems so long.

Here we go. Cheers

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Thirstda’s Theme Music

After a beautiful Ashlandia day yesterday, today has improved to a better version of itself. Yesterday punched up to 89 F under rich sunshine. Today’s sky is bluer and cloud-free. But other conditions have been checked, so our high has dropped to the low 80s region. 60 degree F air armed with a cool mountain breeze moved through the windows and open doors this AM, kissing us with a refreshing chill. Little too chill for my wife, who turned on her little space heater.

This is Thirtsda, May 29, 2025. We’re sailing on through the second quarter of 2025. What a time it has been. Trump has earned a new name, based on his cowardly behavior. TACO means “Trump always chickens out”. Calling him TACO Trump would be repetitive. Should just be PINO TACO, or as I frequently absently call him in my mind, “Little PINO Trump”. Now, air warning: Donald Trump doesn’t like his new nickname, TACO. Feels it’s hurtful, mean, unfair. As he’s never flinched from smirking and bestowing hateful and cruel nicknames on others, I think we should spread it far and use it often.

Other Little PINO TACO news has the mango boi losing out in the courts and getting sued more frequently.

Donald Trump, Karoline Leavitt Sued by Deaf Association, “This Practice Abruptly Ended”

Judge extends order blocking revocation of Harvard’s enrollment of foreign students

Stocks waver after a federal court halted Trump’s tariffs

NPR sues Trump over funding cuts amid ongoing battle between administration and press

Oh, and as Republicans try to gush about how wonderful Little PINO TACO is doing, they’re getting facts in the face:

‘Easily Checkable Lies’: Republican Senator Roasted Over Wildly Inaccurate Post Trying to Hype Trump’s Wins In Office

The Pretenders own my morning mental music stream with a 1984 offering. The Neurons found it in my mental basement and cued it up after I read more news stories last night and this morning. My response has often been, “Time will tell.” Reacting to that, The Neurons gave me “Time the Avenger”. The song is a story told to a 1980s rock rhythm about time’s influence on lives and relationships.

The writing mind is getting greased and primed by a new load of coffee. Here we go, on into another day. Cheers

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Bye

The lazy river waters silently glide by

Bird wings catch light and flash as they fly by

Time drifts slowly as the day goes by

Thoughts and plans meander as ideas come by

New memories and hopes form as life passes by

Other times and places are recalled with a soft good bye

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Frida’s Theme Music

Clouds have moved into Ashlandia. As neighbors go, they tend to being quiet but flighty. They’re also large but I don’t want to body shame anyone.

With the clouds, we get warmer nights but colder days. Last night only slipped down to 51 F. Today’s high will be 61 F. Will it rain? Let me consult with my digitized Magic 8 Ball. Magic 8 says “It is decidely so.”

Today, BTW, is marked as Friday, April 25, 2025. One third of 2025 is about to end. Despite all of PINO Trump’s promises, preening, and bullying, the Russia-Ukraine goes on. The government is in miserable shape and not saving any money. People are losing 401K money because the stock market and bond market are waaayyy worse than under the previous POTUS. Tourism is down. Talk and worries about empty shelves, increasing unemployment, recession and even economic depression is increasing. Pundits already call it the Trumpcession.

PINO Trump responds to it all with glee. “Look how much money my billionaire friends made.” He alternates that with, “What, me — worry?”

I have The Outsiders performing in the morning mental music stream. The song is “Time Won’t Let Me”. Released in 1965, it grew into a hit and radio staple. That led to its purchase as a 45 RPM offering. The record became part of the basement playlist in our neighborhood. We usually did that over at Tracy and Carolyn’s house, as they had a finished basement.

The Smithereens did a cover for the 1994 movie Timecop, starring Jean-Claude Van Damme. I admit, I prefer the original song.

Coffee has come to my aid again, fortifying my psyche for reading the news. Hope you’re all well out there in streaming land, cuz here we go. Cheers

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Twosda’s Theme Music

Yesterday hit 81 F here in Ashlandia. Remembering that, Papi was out early today to experience the improving weather. Energized by light and warmth in a way that I can only envy, he raced out the backdoor at 7 AM. A full sprint around the yard followed. A tree was charged and climbed halfway. Dropping back, full stalking mode was entered. Several pounces were practiced. Another grassy gallop and he was back to the door. “Want back in?” I asked. The cat answered with vigorous tail swishes and a race back across the yard.

All that without coffee. My Neurons were impressed.

I trudged through the room and asked Alexa for its take on the weather. Currently 54 F. Gonna climb to 79 F. Sunshine and clear skies all day. Cool grounds.

Twosda, April 15, 2025 has popped up on the calendar. We’re halfway through the fourth month of 2025. Shit seems to worsen by the day, politically speaking. Such as Trump apologizing for Russia’s Palm Sunday massacre, insisting it was terrible and a mistake. Russia said no such thing. Trump just gives his murdering friends cover.

Past that, a US citizen, born in this country, received an email that she had to leave the country. “Oh, that’s probably a mistake,” someone in the Federal government responded. Yeah, like the previous people deported without trials or evidence? Sure, I believe that shit.

Along those same lines, I don’t believe that Trump can’t get the individual mistaken sent to El Salvador, Kilmar Abrego Garcia. Trump doesn’t want to do bring the guy back. One, that would be a public admission that Trump erred. Trump doesn’t like admitting mistakes. Two, the optics of Trump bringing back a brown-skinned male who Trump accused of being a gang member would upset Trump’s MAGA base. Trump enjoys receiving their adulation too much for him to risk upsetting them. They think he’s peachy and he think’s they’re the greatest. The best.

Anyway, I have a song by Noah Kahan in the morning mental music stream. Kahan released “Hurt Somebody” in 2017. It’s risen through my mind’s debris because of things I thought which were similar to some of the song’s lines. My thoughts were, “What time is it? Wow, this morning is really going by fast. Where did the time go?” At that time, my hands were busy with my food and coffee prep, things usually done thirty minutes before then.

Noticing my thoughts, The Neurons put in the Kahan lines, “Don’t know where the time went. Stuck in the wrong mind set.”

Coffee has escaped into my bio once again. The caffeine is working its expected magic. Here I go into another day. Hope it works out well for me. Hope it works out well for you. Hope it works out well for us.

Cheers

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Saturda’s Theme Music

The world is full of colors. Pinks, yellow, and greens win the eye. Must be spring in Ashlandia. Temp is 45 F, however, it feels like 60, if you stand just the right way. ‘They’ say it’ll be 55 F today as our high but left out how it will feel. Will it rain? Yes! Maybe! It’s Saturda, March 29, 2025, so who knows? I will dress for dry and rainy weather. Yeah, it’ll be a dorkish sight.

Papi the ginger blade, known locally as Butter Butt, doensn’t seem upset with us any longer. Could be because we bribed him with chumley and other treats. I don’t think he forgot. He seems to have a long memory about things. It could be that he’s trying to mislead me into thinking he’s forgotten and forgiven, and then raise floofhem some night when we really need sleep. That sort of cunning planning feels like his style.

I surfed through a wild dream last night. Whole thing was just a series of flash epiphanies in dark night. I was telling myself that star energy runs through us, firing the little nuclear responses in our cells that generate our life energy. We die when the star energy can no longer feed our cells. Star energy comes through our chakras into our corporeal beings, and so on. Time is something we made up, and we have it all wrong. Everything is happening at once. No past, no future. Time was created so we could think in a more orderly manner but we’ve taken it too fair. Now it’s our straitjacket.

There was much, much more. Such as there is only one universe, and the idea that we treat our bodies wrong by trying to heal it when we should be reversing things. Dream me didn’t explain how that was supposed to be accomplished.

I awoke really hot. There are different kinds of hot for us as humans. Drinking a hot beverage feels one way. Sex hot, sun hot, fever hot, sports hot which incudes dripping sweat, furnace hot, which dries us out, desert hot, are all different. If you think about these hots, you notice how each feels unique, and our bodies respond differently to each. Well, the hot felt when I awoke from this dream was wholly different from any of those hot experience. Perhaps that’s all only me. I’ve never discussed the different sort of hots I feel with others

Anyway, I awoke feeling a different manner of hot. Then I headed for the bathroom to pee.

Der Neurons have sprung “Star Man” by Davide Bowie on the morning mental music stream. This was from Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust era. Released in 1972, I don’t hear it often on the radio in ‘Merica. But I personally enjoy its message of hope being delivered by a Starman to Earth’s youth. I went with the Top of the Pops video performance. Even though the song is being mimed, it awakened and impressed many more people to the talent named Bowie.

Coffee is reassuring me once again. Time to play through. Hope your day is remarkable for you in many good ways. Peace out.

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Sunda’s Wandering Political Thoughts

Mellow and quiet are the best descriptions for Ashlandia today. Turning attention to politics for a bit, I found a few sites with ideas that merit being shared with others.

Lithub presents, What Is Donald Trump Doing? Three Theories for the Madness.

  • Theory 1: Trump is a Russian Asset. This theory isn’t new, but let’s be real: If someone had laid out Trump’s actions over the past several years and presented them without names attached, the conclusion that he’s working to advance Russian interests wouldn’t sound like a wild conspiracy.
  • Theory 2: Trump is Trying to Foment Global Chaos. For a man who ran a campaign on the promise of putting “America First,” Trump sure seems intent on making the world and America a far more unstable place.
  • Theory 3: He’s Just Worse at Presidenting Than Last Time. As shocking as this might sound, it’s possible that Trump’s presidential skillset second term is shaping up to be even less stellar than his first.

‘Less stellar’ made me chuckle. I think the author, Aron Solomon, is being generous.

Over on The Democracy Labs, they’ve provided us with a very useful map. The Trusk Regime is wielding DOGE to curtail leases on thousands of government buildings. This can well mean that people will need to go further and wait longer to reach the Federal office which can assist them. You know, places such as the VA office, FEMA, Social Security, IRS, Medicare, Medicaid, NOAA…

Driving longer distances isn’t good for people or the environment: it came mean longer trips in motor vehicles. If you’re in a gas or diesel powered vehicle, you’ll spew more emissions into the air. And you’ll pay for more vehicle fuel. If you’re worried about inflation, buying more gass can translate into more demand and higher prices.

Driving further and waiting longer will also mean that if you’re a person being paid by the hour or working the gig enonomy, it may well cost you more in your wages. Then there’s the age and handicap issue: traveling longer distance and waiting longer can often be emotionally wearing and physically tiring.

This essentially demonstrates how little the Trusk Regime cares about people.

What this map does is show us what’s being closed where, and importantly, what member of Congress to contact about it. You know what to do with your phones and keyboards, right? That’s right: raise your voice.

Finally, Jill Dennison shares a story of the sublime. Don’t Say That Word!!! covers the growing list that the Trusk Regime forbids to be used in official documents.

What follows is a list of words that are either forbidden or ‘discouraged’ in federal government communications, both formal and informal, under the current regime.  Take a look for yourself … even words like ‘women’, ‘racism’, and ‘pollution‘ are taboo!  And of course ‘Gulf of Mexico’ cannot ever be used in federal communications!  An article in the New York Times provides more information, but do take a glance through this list … it will raise your hackles!  

And that’s always something that I need: something else that the Trusk Regime is doing that raises my hackles.

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Oh, The Wonder

Daily writing prompt
How do significant life events or the passage of time influence your perspective on life?
View all responses

Time’s spend has changed since I was a child. Then I came to understand, oh, it’s not time that changed, it’s me. Time speeds up as we age. But with time passing, I also gain greater perspective. I can look back at certain events and interactions and comprehend them with better insights because my life’s experiences expanded my base of understanding.

And I have found that I can keep learning. But changing? Changing also becomes harder as I age. It seems like I’m like water. Like a stream, I was looking for my course to follow. Once finding it, I don’t want to leave it.

Time’s passing also changed perspectives on fashion. I’m less enthused about dressing to impress others these days and more focused on being comfortable. I can more easily shrug off others’ opinions of me because I know how transitory and incidental these things are.

My final observation was that I didn’t really fully appreciate my body when I was younger. As I aged, different alarms went off at specific times, triggering events and changes that I never expected. Like my metabolism jumping off a cliff. And my prostate en

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