Tag: travel

A Traveling Dream – with Pie!

I was packing all my personal goods up. Part of that was a lot of money, which I and arranged in boxes, cases, bags, and scheduled it to be picked up and taken east.

That done, I sought transportation for myself. I found a bus and bought tickets. Inside were blue seats. I found an open seat and sat. The bus’s seating reminded me more of a widebody jet, except, I saw, it was arranged in a star pattern. Either way, I thought it unusual for a bus and too big.

A crotchety woman was managing the passengers. She announced our itinerary. We were in Maine, heading for New York!

That was wrong! I was supposed to be on the west coast, going east. That’s where I packed my stuff.

Now I worried about my stuff. Had I sent it in the wrong direction?

Then I worried about all that money I’d packed away, fretting that somebody might steal it. I shouldn’t have left it like that, and I should have brought more with me.

A young dark-haired woman in red clothing was in the seat next to me. I recognized her but she apparently didn’t remember me. I played a sly little game, ‘guessing’ things about her because I knew her. She was amazed by how I correctly guessed.

They announced we were in New York and would have a rest stop. The crotchety woman came around serving us slices of pie. I took two pieces and passed them on to other passengers, then ate the third piece. It seemed like some kind of runny custard pie. I didn’t care much for the filling so I only ate the crust.

We arrived at our destination. I don’t know where it was but began looking for my stuff, anxious about how much of it I’d find there. Several of my bags were discovered. Inside them were bundles of cash. I gave some to another traveler because they needed help.

The dream ended as I was walking toward a building, finding and picking up more of my bags.

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The Trends

Interesting trends are taking over the United States.

Manufacturing and production plants are shutting down or gone. It varies by region and industry.

The United States had about 25,000 malls in the 1980s. We’re down to about 1200. Many rural malls have shut down. Stores like Aldi and Dollar General or Dollar Store have replaced them. Some are being successfully repurposed by turning stores into churches. Some areas turn to casinos to counter the loss of malls and manufacturing.

Rural movie theaters are closing, as are rural hospitals, which is creating healthcare deserts.

These are anchor industries. As plants, malls, movie theaters, and hospitals close, jobs are lost, along with local revenue streams. Income drops; spending drops. Local restaurants and service industries suffer. That ripples into the local area’s ability to maintain public buildings, schools, and infrastructure. As these effects are felt, more people move away. People lack incentives to move there. The population shrinks.

With fewer students, rural public schools close. Small community colleges and universities feel it as enrollment drops. Falling enrollments force them to cut programs and raise tuition to fill the gaps, but factors have changed, and the loop of falling tuition and less classes grow.

Railroads, which used to be a rural lifeline, have cut way back in the United States. Small-town passenger train service is mostly gone.

Meanwhile, Data and AI Centers are being built fast. They’re being built in rural areas where there used to be mining or manufacturing. While they’ll provide temporary economic stabilization and add some revenue from construction, these places don’t typically employ many people. Automation takes care of many service needs. Such centers also don’t produce products that can be taken to a store and sold.

I was thinking about all of this because those kinds of economic and service declines in rural areas were a meaningful part of the political environment that helped Donald Trump gain support. He frames his attacks on ‘narco-terrorists’ as a war on crime and drugs. The war in Iran is part of his America First agenda. They build on the same themes of strength, distrust of elites, and national priority that resonated politically in earlier elections.

All those rural trends have been causing a youth drain. Educated young citizens are moving out of rural areas. Those left behind tend to be older and less educated and are more likely to be Trump supporters. For me, then, what Trump is now doing will do little to ameliorate the polarization affecting United States politics.

Long-term rural revitalization isn’t just about economics or infrastructure. It’s deeply tied to political will, governance, and coalition-building. Without bipartisan or broadly supported political action, even the best economic initiatives struggle to take hold.

Trump’s style, though, is exactly the opposite; he goes it alone instead of building coalitions, demonizing political opponents. At the end of the term, we’re likely to see many of the same problems affecting rural areas that we now see. The polarization will remain, but there will be less voters in the rural areas to support people like Trump.

They may have won some short-term victories by putting Trump in office, but the problems remain.

A war in Iran does nothing to help.

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Trump: Round and Round

Round and round and round we go.

Where we’ll end up, nobody knows. Especially Trump.

I saw a comment the other day which summarizes Trump voters for me. I remember what they said but not who said it:

“Trump didn’t betray you. He showed us exactly who he is. You betrayed us.”

Look at these headlines.

Trump rules out ceasefire as US sends more troops to Middle East

Trump says US considers ‘winding down’ Iran military effort

US Sends Another 2,500 Marines to Iran as Ground Option Emerges in War

Same war, same Trump, intentions going everywhere in a lost haze of thought.

TSA lines are causing traffic delays as TSA agents don’t come to work. Why should they? Trump is not paying them because of his partial government shutdown.

Now, some small regional airports might shut down due to Trump’s partial government shutdown.

As oil prices go up, so do gas prices at the pump but analysts warn that oil prices will hit every sector because of shipping. Meanwhile, another set of analysts warn that we’ll probably start seeing food prices increasing because of Trump’s tariffs — from ‘liberation day’ of last year. Companies were spreading the costs out among multiple products and lines to spread increases and ease the pain. Now, forced to the wall, Food Navigator thinks the price increases will be more direct.

My wife and I are forever laughing about economists and their expectations. Earlier this month, the poor jobs growth surprised them. Now APNews reports it’s consumer wholesale prices.

U.S. wholesale prices came in hotter than expected in February, driven partly by a sharp increase in food costs.

The Labor Department reported Wednesday that its producer price index — which measures inflation before it hits consumers — rose 0.7% from January, and 3.4% from February 2025. The year-over-year increase was the most since February 2025.

The price gains were bigger than economists had forecast, and they occurred before the U.S. and Israel attack on Iran pushed energy prices sharply higher.

It’s like, where do these economists live and shop that they don’t walk into a place and notice prices going on month by month? It’s surreal.

Now my wife and I are trying to figure out what a ‘K-shape economy recovery’ looks like. I’m telling you, if it’s not one thing…

Oh, BTW. Remember how Trump said he and one of his Republican lackeys had a great plan to send a hospital ship to Greenland? Surprised everyone because we all knew the Navy’s hospital ships weren’t available, but Trump’s ‘plan’ grabbed headlines and distracted everyone from the Epstein files for a few days. No ship was ever sent.

I mention it now because Trump signed an executive order to have the government work with the NCAA and whatever so that the Army-Navy football game is the only game being broadcast.

That smacks of classic Trump distraction. Polls for him are down, the economy is swirling around the toilet, and the Epstein files still haunt him. Now, what he thought would be a one and done in Iran is a growing disaster. Quick! Distraction: Army-Navy game.

Who still falls for his inanity these days?

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Navigating Some Changes: A Dream

It started weird.

In my mid-twenties, I’d been somewhere, had a few drinks, went home. At home was an old girlfriend, visiting someone else, staying the night. Morning broke with sunshine through windows. I realized she was leaving and wanted to get up to say good-bye.

I could not move.

Paralyzed isn’t quite the word. I had no control. My limbs were flopping, weak, uncoordinated.

How did this happen? I kept asking myself. I didn’t much the night before, struggling to remember what I’d eaten, concluding, not much. I suspected someone had spiked my drink.

Thinking over the previous night, my memory pulled up a hypothetical scene where a man dropped something into my dream. I couldn’t guess his motivation and speculated he thought my drink belonged to someone else.

Then, damn – I’m late for work.

In the military again, I scrambled to find a clean uniform and shit, shower, shave.

Rushing out of the house, I headed for a train station and realized, I’m in Germany and I don’t know where I’m going. Nor did I speak the language.

There were long lines and a byzantine system of turns and steps. Putting together clues from what I saw others do, but screwing up, I sometimes got scolded – in German. I studied landmarks for more evidence about where I was, where I was going, then made it to work.

I was just a little late. Eventually I explained to the commander that I thought someone else had spiked my drink. He eagerly agreed, recapping my symptoms and then explaining the same thing happened to him the night before. That greatly relieved me, knowing someone else had gone this. I sensed that he felt the same.

I need to go somewhere else, they told me. Out in the system again, I tried putting pieces together to get to the right place and ended up going too far. Figuring that out, I backtracked until I found the right station. I realized we were sometimes going through people’s personal lands. They were very particular about what was permitted but sometimes changed it. For example, one old, white hair man opened up a door as a shortcut, apparently on a whim. An elderly gray-haired female chastised us when we considered using part of her walk as a shortcut.

Then it was time to go home. I had to figure out where to go, what to do, but fewer people were available. I had to figure it out on my own.

Dream end.

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Monday’s Theme Music –

Ashland, Oregon — Monday, March 9, 2026.

Cold and gloomy this morning. 44 F underneath clouds and tepid light. Showers are possible, along with a high in the fifties. Not bad as weather goes; just uninspiring.

Many things rocking the mind in this early Monday hours. A new week is underway and we don’t know what will happen next. We can guess but the overall trajectories are pointing toward bleak.

The partial government shutdown is creating travel problems as unpaid TSA agents fail to show up for work, resulting in long security lines in the United States. More importantly, a stressed and diminished security force can be a huge liability as Trump increases attacks on Iran.

A Federal court ruled that Kari Lake lacks the authority to make changes to the Voice of America and ordered people released to be returned.

Besides a rising death toll and greater regional destruction, the Trump Iran War is causing international shipping and travel chaos.

With Iran’s previous leader killed in the initial bombings, a new leader has been established: his son, a hardliner, much like his father.

Measles outbreaks continue growing in the United States, with sharp inclines in North Dakota, Utah, South Carolina, Colorado, and Ohio reported, along with a Texas Homeland Detention Center. Over 1100 cases are reported so far in 2026.

Although the weather here isn’t stormy, the mood around the world seems stormy and moving toward greater destabilization, and we must ride it out. Thinking of that inspired The Neurons to deliver “Riders on the Storm” by The Doors to the morning mental music stream.

This atmospheric song from my youth is always thought provoking but, on my way to find a video to share, I came across Playing for Change’s version, which includes Robby Krieger and John Densmore of The Doors. I enjoyed the new musical inflections added by different singers and instruments from around the world. I hope you enjoy this as much as me.

And off we go. I hope for the best for you and us, this day and every day.

Cheers

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The Distance

This is a playing around piece. Over on Linda G. Hill’s blog via Laura’s WTFAIOA site, we’re all invited to write a non-edited stream of consciousness thing prompted by ‘distance’. So here we are. It was fun.

The distance doesn’t start or end, it’s just there with a space between us as we flash down the road, close and far apart as ever, going again to a place we were before hoping it’s the same place even while we seek something different. We travel the same distance when we talk about her mother and my mom and people we’ve known and what was done when. The drive ends as it began with a sense of wonder what’s going on and an expectation that somehow, this changes things. Sometimes it does but mostly, we are here again, pacing the distance, measuring it for curtains, prowling it at night.

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A Little Yellow Car

I was prescribed post-surgery meds and went to the drug store to pick them up.

Walking through the drugstore parking lot to buy them, I saw a small yellow car. Circling closer, I confirmed, 1964 Dodge Valiant, just like my stepfather drove. Might have been a different year but it was the same model and color.

I remembered him bringing it home although I don’t recall what he drove before that. I rarely rode in it. This was ‘his car’, something to commute to work and go off to bet. George was a gambler and went to the horse races five or six days a week, trying for a big score. He won big twice. Once was a $25,000 Daily Double payout, providing the down payment on a newly built brick ranch in Penn Hills.

Later, he won enough to buy a new 1976 Chevy Camaro. Like his Valiant, this was pale yellow, three-speed on the column and a black and white checked interior. Sis hated that car.

All of us disliked driving with George. Tending to drive about five miles an hour below the speed limit, he also liked to get into the faster lanes but not go faster. This terrified us as other drivers pulled up, slowed down and then sped past with blaring horns. Mom would often snap, “My God, get out of this lane.” George wouldn’t budge, though, sailing on without regard to others’ opinions.

The yellow Dodge in the drugstore parking lot had tiny tires and petite chrome bumpers, appearing small and fragile among the huge SUVs and a couple of ‘compact’ Toyotas and Hondas. All the modern vehicles were white, black, gray, or silver. Nowhere was another yellow car.

Seeing it still brought a smile as I walked on, reflecting, what a different world. And yet, back in the 1960s, that Valiant would have shown up as so much different than the preceding decades.

Who knows what our 2026 cars will look like compared to the cars of 2086.

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A Classroom Dream

I arrived with another man — my boss — and parked in a parking garage. The car, like others there, was a mid-1960s vintage. Windows were left open so cars could stay cool, a precaution in those pre-AC days.

My boss and I were going to a conference together, meeting our team. When we went in, we learned that we would be learning about and practicing Statistical Process Control. I already knew SPC so I decided to duck out. Taking a long piece of brown cardboard from a window, I returned to my car, put the cardboard over the windshield, and napped.

Waking up later, I realized I’d overslept. Jumping out of the car, I literally ran into my boss. He said, “I’m off now, have a good weekend,” and trotted away.

Hot, I decided to strip off my clothes, leaving only my shoes on, and entered the classroom. Everyone else in there were women. They all noticed that I was naked but nobody said anything.

As I started walking through, a woman called me over to chat with me along with several other women. She was showing us her marvelous new material, which could be used on tables or floors. It seemed odd to me to be doing that then but I looked at her samples. All were bright and colorful, and very shiny, with pieces of different colored tiles embedded in them. As I looked, she asked me, “What would you choose for your floor, Michael?”

At that point, someone else called for my attention. I began walking away but called back, “My floor would be light gray but very shiny.”

Sitting down at a desk, I listened to our team lead, speaking at the front and realized they were finishing an exercise. Deciding that I wasn’t comfortable being naked, I went back to another part and discreetly put on a casual shirt and shorts. Then I went back.

The class was ending. I stepped outside into sunshine and wondered what I should do.

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Monday’s Theme Music

Monday, January 26, 2026, has landed. Frigid cold holds much of the U.S. Ashland in Oregon remains 40 degrees and dry, but partly cloudy, with a high of 57 F expected this afternoon.

Much of my attention shifts between Minnesota, Trump in general, and the winter storm, Fern. My general reflections at this point make me think that the U.S. is in danger of becoming a wasteland, a rich center for the wealthy but a miserable place for the rest. As education and norms are peeled away and freedom is squashed, the future has a bleaker look to it.

For what, many of us ask? We know Trump is the figurehead and has enabled others to act on his behalf. More, the Project 2025 authors are driving it. Their intention seems to be, tear it all down, and then we’ll rebuild in an image of our own making. The image seems to be, believe in our God, buy our goods, and keep your opinions to yourself. In return, we’ll call you free, and remind that this is America, land of the free and home of the brave.

And if you resist, we will vilify, harass, and even shoot you. We will gas you and strip you of your dignity and rights.

To which We the People reply, bring it on.

Today’s music is brought to you by The Neurons. They identified “Baba O’Riley” by The Who as ideal theme music for this final Monday in January, 2026.

Out here in the fields
I fight for my meals
I get my back into my living
I don’t need to fight
To prove I’m right
I don’t need to be forgiven

Don’t cry
Don’t raise your eye
It’s only teenage wasteland

Sally, take my hand
We’ll travel south ‘cross land
Put out the fire, don’t look past my shoulder
The exodus is here
The happy ones are near
Let’s get together before we get much older

h/t to songmeanings.com

So let’s continue getting together and stand up for the United States that we believe in, a nation where we can criticize the government without threats of lawsuits or violence, a nation of elected officials who believe they work for We the People to help us all rise and be stronger, safer, and freer, and not just a privileged few.

Hope it’s a grand, safe day for you, one that helps establish a firm foundation for the needs ahead. Cheers

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A Car & Its Driver

I paced the room, waiting for word about my wife’s 2003 Ford Focus. The car was recently stopping on its own, unsafe and inconvenient.

I resisted thinking it was a battery at first. The car cranked up and fired without any issues but then died.

My wife didn’t think it was a battery. “It starts up. Nothing dims, and it doesn’t have that weak, sluggish sound when it starts.”

I agreed in principle. I checked the battery, confirming, no loose wires or cables, intact and clean. A date on the battery’s side, 05 20, surprised me.

Telling my spouse about it, I added, “I didn’t think the battery was that old.”

We reminisced about buying it. Delivering Food & Friends alone because the COVID pandemic was underway, her car died enroute. She called me to rescue her, which I gleefully did to escape the house.

I reminded her, recent ‘high-discharge’ batteries don’t show the same dying battery symptoms we grew up seeing. Then I recalled, it was cold when the car died on her a couple times this week. Cold affects how much energy batteries can deliver.

I decided, checking the battery was where to begin. An appointment at Les Schwab, a mile away, was made for 10 AM this morning.

I started the Focus without any issue; it died five seconds later. I started it again. Death came five seconds later.

Three times was a charm, but I worried about the car dying as I drove to the appointment.

The Les Schwab tech confirmed, bad battery. “One cell is completely dead,” he said.

That fit, to me. A couple hundred dollars later, we believe we have the problem solved.

Whether the problem is truly solved won’t be clear until the car has been driven normally a few times. I have high confidence it’s fixed, though.

But — knock on wood.

Just in case.

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