Tuesday’s Theme Music

Ashland, southern Oregon — Tuesday, May 26, 2026.

We’re mired in a gloomy late spring day. Dull sunshine seeps down through swollen rain clouds. 48 F now; 60 F later.

Despite this cool temperature and rain clouds, the drought is already browning the valley. A wildfire was fought and put out not too far away. The air this morning smells like the remains of a sodden bonfire.

Many of my Pittsburgh family members gathered at the youngest’s house for a BBQ. They also played Kornhole and shared social media photos of the gathering. All my sisters were there with their partners. Most of their children and grands, and their children’s partners. Some were missing, as there was a baseball tournament where they were playing. And other than my sister, the Georgia contingent was absent. Of course, Mom and Frank weren’t there in a long line of firsts we’ll encounter this year.

In Trump Iran War news, the US broke the ceasefire. That was okay, though, because it was the United States, which, under Trump, doesn’t follow the rules and norms. That generally leads to anger, reprisal, uncertainty, and confusion. We’ll see how it goes this time.

The Trump administration labeled these ‘self-defense’ strikes. Funny how self-defense is ‘needed’ when there’s a ceasefire on, and the war is over or almost over, and the US won, which are all things which Trump claimed.

The war is now into it 87th day.

The full Epstein files have not been released.

Prices are rising.

The Epstein ballroom funding is short of its need.

The Trump tariffs ruled illegal by the Roberts Court are being refunded to businesses. Consumers beginning to sue businesses to get their share of the tariff refunds.

I’m reading the novel, “James”, by Percival Everestt. James had a wonderful line:

“Religion is just a controlling tool they employ and adhere to when convenient.”

That summarizes my attitude toward not just religion, but how patriotism is invoked in the US — especially by Trump — and also how I see the Constitution now often being employed.

Of course, ‘they’ do it with team and family, as well: “We’re one team!” “We’re a family!”

True when it’s useful to be true.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

Today’s music comes from a glance in the bathroom mirror. I laughed at my reflection. I look less like Mom or Dad than I used to, I thought, and sort of reflected on that. (No, I am not sorry for that phrase!)

Seeing an open door, The Neurons came in with “Mirror in the Bathroom” by English Beat in the morning mental music stream. It’s such a classic 1980s sound for me. Brings flashbacks and smiles.

Lyrics:

Mirror in the bathroom, please talk free
The door is locked, just you and me

I hope for the best for you, your family, home, and region. Stay strong.

Cheers

At the Goodwill

My wife and I are on the Oregon coast. We ate a wonderful fresh breakfast at the Fresh Harvest Cafe. Then we hit the local Goodwill.

My wife enjoys visiting Goodwill stores. She likes bargains and she likes re-using things. She did say today, “I’m not buying anything new. I’m death cleaning so whenever I see something I want, I just tell myself, ‘You’ll just have to throw it out.'” Books are the exceptions. We bought four, two for each of us.

Killing time, I wander the store and write a short story in my head. It’s about a future Goodwill. Dystopian situation. A guy ransacks an unused house. There’s a lot of them. Finding a cache of shot glasses, he brings them to the Goodwill. They give him a small bag of peanuts for them. He sits outside in the sunshine, savoring every nut as he eats them.

My sister texted me about her grandson’s birthday. He’s already fifteen, thoroughly discombobulating my brain, which still thinks of him as much younger. His mother is still a teenager in my thoughts. To see that he’s now a teenager is too much. I do the slow math; I was fifty-five when he was born. Time, you know?

Sis tells me that her grandson went to an Escape Room for his birthday. Muses gather in my head to conceptualize fiction about Escape Rooms.

Sis interrupts with a text abut Mom. She’s taken Mom to Urgent Care for another suspected UTI. Mom complains about dizziness as she Mom gets in and out of her wheelchair and the car.

Browsing Goodwill shelves, I see things which might be in my home. I go through an aisle of tools and imagine my tools in there.

I believe I have seen the future.

Leaving the building, I breath in fresh air and smile at the sunshine on my face.

DIY, Again

This DIY project was about replacing a screen on a patio door. The screen door was on the bedroom slider. Long ago, Quinn, the gorgeous and sweet long-haired floof who shared our domicile, decided stretching out and scratching his claws on it was wonderful. Quinn was smart. He quickly discovered that we didn’t like it. Therefore, he restrained himself from scratching when we were around. Once in a while, he’d start, then jerk to a stop with a look at us that said, “Oh, sorry, didn’t know you were here. I’ll come back later.”

When Papi, the current ginger-in-residence, joined the household, Quinn thoughtfully taught Papi how to use the screen. Papi then came to understand that plucking on the screen when we were in bed at night and he was outside would bring us to the door and open it for him.

Naturally, all this scratching and plucking damaged the screen. Damaged is such a simple word it feels dishonest. They tore that booger up. So I watched some videos and replaced it. Hardest part was getting the door off the tracks. This was one recalcitrant door. Years ago, my wife said, “Can we take that off?”

“Sure,” I replied, flexing. “Normally you can lift up, clear the bottom tracks, and slide the door away.” As I mansplained this, I attempted to demonstrate. The door would not go. “Sometimes you need to loosen the screws.” I found the screws and loosened them, then tried again.

Wouldn’t clear. I couldn’t even see the bottom wheels so I couldn’t push them up with a flat blade. Frustration set in.

I’d try to remove the screen door every other year or so. Nothing, nothing, nothing. This is the year, I decided. 2023 was the year for freeing the door and replacing the screen.

It was a battle. I completely removed the adjusting screws and lifted. The theory was, raise the door as high as you can, expose the wheels, and use something to press them up into their recess so they clear the track. A putty knife is normally recommended.

It wasn’t working. The putty knife wouldn’t work — couldn’t see the wheels enough to press them in. They just weren’t being exposed, no matter how high I lifted the door, which, of course, was limited by the frame. Eventually, after searching through my possessions, I found a plastic square that’s used for edging when I’m painting. It’s actually a very shallow wedge. By lifting up one end of the door, I made enough space where I could shove the wedge in. Um, wedge it in, as it were. Then I fiercely dragged the door with the wedge under it, gently tugging the door outward, along the track until one part of the bottom wheel assembly cleared the track. Next, I used my putty knife to hold that up while continuing to tug and drag.

Sweaty job, but it worked. After that end was done, I did the other in the opposite direction. With the bottom wheels out of the tracks, removing the door was ease itself.

The screen door was set flat on the patio dining table, spline pulled away, then the screen remains were torn off. Phase one done.

I’d already measured the screen and purchased new screening at Ace Hardware downtown. I could have replaced the entire door rather than the screen. That would have presented some challenges but would have likely been easier and less time consuming. But the current door and wheels were in good shape, so that seemed wasteful. I don’t like to waste. Besides, the new screen material was less than ten dollars compared to some larger price for a completely new door.

Working methodically, I laid out the screen, strung the spline along the groove, and set to work. Beginning on the bottom, I set up the screen to match the opening, providing some overlap, and then inserted some spline on the bottom edge as a place holder. Next, I worked one side, doing the same, pulling the screen tight. So it went, around the entire door. As I worked, I’d pulled the screen tight across the door and push the spline into the groove to hold it until I was satisfied.

My spline tool was a bottle cap remover. Narrow, curved, it wouldn’t damage the spline as a screw driver would. A spline roller would have been ideal but I didn’t have a spline roller and didn’t buy one. I just didn’t want more stuff, especially when I didn’t believe I’d replace another screen. I’m sixty-seven years old and this was my first. I don’t really see another one in my future.

Also, I’d been through my tools recently. In there I found tools for removing car oil filters, oil plugs, and doors for setting points, and gapping spark plugs. As I’d had American, Japanese, and European cars through my lifetime, I’d had to buy tools to account for differences. However, you know how long it’s been since I changed my own oil and filter, or sparkplugs. My last several cars didn’t even have points in that sense, having been replaced by electronic devices. I just didn’t want to add another special tool along them and the Koehler facet tool which I needed to buy to replace their ‘washers’.

So the spline roller was nixed but the bottle cap remover worked well. After I’d done my initial placement of the spline and wanted to push it in deeper, I brought in some diluted dish soap. Dribbling as I went, I lubricated the channel, making it easy to put the spline fully and uniformly into the channel. After that, I trimmed the overlap screen, cleaned off the tracks and window, and re-installed the screen door.

Huzzah. Felt good to get another thing done. On to other matters, like the sprinkler heads.

Cheers

Time to Paint

The blinds needed to be removed.

This was a requirement to paint around the frames. Somehow in the madness of life, I’ve decided that I need to paint the living and dining rooms. Together, they are, ‘The Great Room’.

Point of order: my wife hectored me into doing it. “These rooms are too dark. We need a lighter color.”

Me: “Huh-huh, you’re right.”

“When can you do it?”

“Wait, what?”

Life sometimes needs a rewind function.

Into the garage! To the tools! My tools are not greatly organized. Shelves hold several power tools and their requirements, along with a large toolbox. It’s augmented by a small thing with a work surface and four drawers. One drawer has lost its front. (I’m going to fix it sometime.) The top drawers are well organized with screws, anchors, glues, nails, sandpiper. The bottom two drawers are stuffed full of whatever I can get in there. I avoid opening them, except to retrieve tape and edger/trimmer string. My tape variety is impressive.

The screws holding the mounting brackets have a Philips-head X on it. They would not budge despite my grunting. “Get a screwdriver with more torque,” I muttered to myself. I already had the biggest. I would use the drill on it, but there’s not enough clearance. Bummer.

Sighing in frustration, I hit the ratchet wrenches. For some reason, I’ve acquired three complete sets. No, there’s more. At least two sets are metric. I bought them because I lived in Germany and Japan. Metric was used there, and I owned foreign cars – BMW, Porsche, Mercedes, Audi, Toyota, Nissan, Mazda, Honda, Toyopet. Plus, at least one set was priced at a dollar at a garage sale. Who can resist tools at a garage sale? They’re like books. You gotta look and see what might fill that imaginary hole in your library or toolbox.

The sockets are semi-disorganized. Most are in their proper places but the smallest sockets always go strolling. I go through them, looking for the 1/4 inch, along with the proper adapter to go from big to small. With all those socket kits, I have a multitude of options for changing spark plugs. Every manufacturer had a different size of socket required. Some had several. I also have a number of tools for setting the gaps on plugs and rotors, and wires for cleaning them.

Which reminded me of computers. Back in the office closet lives a set of shelves. On it resides office requirements like Wite-out, file folders, label maker, pens for the next century (if they don’t dry up), paper for the printer, ink for the same, assorted docks for laptops I no longer use, another printer I no longer use, cables for laptops and printers… You get it, right?

Disk drives also live on these shelves. Floppy 5.25 inch. Hard floppy 3.5 inch. Zip drives. CDs. All are ready to be formatted and written. I have not formatted anything in over a decade, maybe longer. I used to format things several times a week, back in, um, the last century. Strange that something that once was so common is now rare.

Not really. We were riding horses and trolleys more back in the last century, too. I only rode horses a few times for entertainment. Never mounted one to go to the store, or to visit the neighbors.

I don’t change my car’s oil any longer, either, although I have the wrenches for that, too, and the big wrench to remove an oil pan nut. I have baskets of computer and electronic gear. Ribbon wires, chipsets, an old power supply, old fan, along with a huge variety of RCA cords and adapters. There’s an extra monitor, too, and a VHS head cleaner for the VHS deck that I no longer use. I also own bearing grease, quart jugs of motor oil, and car cleaning supplies, like polishes and waxes.

Sometime, someone needs to go in there and clean all this stuff out. Not me, not today.

Time for me to paint.

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