Thursday’s Theme Music — Fighting Fires

Ashland, southern Oregon — Thursday, June 25, 2026.

Cooler today — just 85 F — but the summer mix of blue sky and sunshine continues without interruption in our valley.

I haven’t been watching the World Cup games. Not my kind of football. But I dreamed that I was working with a gregarious black guy, trying to sell team jerseys to fans. He’d come into a large shipment of them at a discount, but he didn’t know what sizes he had. All had been manufactured outside of the US, and they weren’t using the labels familiar to me. I was using the Internet to help him size them so he could sell them.

Results are not back from Mom’s tests yesterday, except they have confirmed she doesn’t have a yeast infection. My sister, Gina, related that Mom was complaining about the sunglasses Mom was wearing: they were too big. She went on a rant that Frank probably let his sister, Joan, wear them, because Joan has a big head. She finished, “I could just kill Frank.”

Gina replied, “Mom, you do know that Frank died last year, don’t you?”

I feel like I’m in a variation of “We Didn’t Start the Fire” by Billy Joel. In that 1989 song, he recites court decisions, celebrity names, historic events, and pop culture fads and trends that took place between 1949, when Joel was born, to the current date in 1989. As I read the news, there’s a Billy Joel rhythm: Supreme Court rules, shooting leaves x dead, earthquakes, wildfires, flooding, climate change denial, Trump texts, Trump promises, Trump lies, Trump claims, distraction, distraction, distraction, fake news, elections, corruption, facts, truth, history, Epstein files, Epstein ballroom, tariffs, Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool, Israel, Gaza, Lebanon, Iran, Strait of Hormuz, Musk, Venezuela, Ukraine, Russia, China, ICE in the cities, economy, jobs, prices, prices, prices, crisis, crisis, crisis!

Trump didn’t start the fire. But he threw gasoline on it and gave it oxygen. He didn’t start it but we’re gonna fight it.

The song had a lot of airplay back in the early 1990s but has since faded. Not one of Joel’s better offerings, the chorus was pretty familiar to everyone because of the airplay.

Despite those thoughts, The Neurons have the Allman Brothers performing “Statesboro Blues” in my morning mental music stream. A favorite song and cover, it has a jumping, thumping sound to it which always kickstarts my energy.

I hope you have great day, summer or winter, wherever you inhabited for now, and that all goes well for you and yours.

I’m off to my appointments. Cheers

Wednesday’s Theme Music – Rock & Hard Place

Ashland, southern Oregon — Wednesday, June 3, 2026.

Pleasant valley Wednesday. 66 F, sunshine percolates through some clouds. Rain and a high of 76 F are expected.

Mom and my sister went through a rough day yesterday, spending over eight hours at ER. Classic ER scene as the staff attempts to help everyone but there are so many who need help. They got home early in the AM this morning.

We’re not sure what’s going on with Mom. She had a CT scan but no results have been shared with us. At one point, they asked her if she wanted or needed anything, then added, but nothing to drink or eat. We all knew that usually means surgery. But surgery was never mentioned. She went home tired, thirsty, hungry, and sleepy.

Home: her shared room at the assisted living facility.

The US — or Trump, specifically — is between a rock and hard place. After Trump claimed he would end the Russia – Ukraine War, it continues with fresh strikes by Ukraine on Russia today.

Over in Iran, where Trump decided to start a war and declared it over, Iran launched an attack on a Kuwaiti airport.

Speaker Mike Johnson, who said this was a small operation back in March, was not available for comment. Trump’s Iran War was supposed to be over in weeks if not sooner, according to Republicans back in March. Now the war has been going 95 days.

Without too much surprise for me, I read that the Trump administration is dragging its feet on refunding Trump tariffs as ordered by the courts. Meanwhile, Trump dropped more tariffs on 60 nations, claiming it’s because they use forced labor.

Over in World Cup news, a Swiss player is waiting to see if he’ll be taking part in the games because the US has not said he’s allowed in yet, and the Iranians are worried about their team’s ability to come and go to the US.

The US mint announced FIFA World Cup coins. McDonalds announced a World Cup meal so the poor can get in on the excitement. Papi announced he’s taking a World Cup nap. It’s World Cup mania! Except ticket sales are flat and FIFA is being accused of using unofficial resale sites to cut prices.

The Epstein files aren’t completely released, and the Epstein ballroom is still short of funds but under construction. Under Operation Epic LOOK — SQUIRREL!, Trump is now not worried about it as a ballroom, but as a drone port. It’s all about the nation’s defense!

Of course, as I understand it, arming the White House to the teeth basically raises its value as a military target. After all, that’s what the US did in Iran: we went after the drone and missile launch sites.

Your Trump Quote of the Day:

What hyperbole. Trump blasts a judge and rants, “we can no longer defend Washington, D.C., with rifles and pistols, alone.”

No kidding, Trump. You just proposed a 1.5 trillion-dollar defense budget, the largest in history, and you think D.C, us being defended by ‘rifles and pistols’?

Let’s face it, too; if the US has reached a point in a conflict that we’re depending on drones on top of the White House to defend us, we’re pretty screwed.

Today’s music comes out of the thought stew bubbling my brain this morning. Spying on me, The Neurons brought the Rolling Stones and “Rock and A Hard Place” to the morning mental music stream.

Sample Lyrics:

We’re stuck between a rock
And a hard place
Between a rock (yeah) and a hard place

This talk of freedom
And human rights
Means bullying and private wars and
Chucking all the dust into our eyes

And peasant people
Poorer than dirt
Who are caught in the crossfire ain’t nothin’

To lose but their shirts, yeah

May your day be carried forward with peace and grace.

Cheers

Watchin’, Waitin’, Etc.

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.

Friday’s Theme Music: “Fooling Yourself”, Trump

Ashland, Oregon — Friday, March 6, 2026.

Our temperature is 51 F. Sunshine broadly spreads across the valley as thin gray fog recedes. Today’s high might be in the low fifties, we’re told.

Papi doesn’t care about temperatures. That sunshine provides a warm bathing space and he uses his tongue like he hasn’t washed in weeks.

As I sipped coffee and read the news, I thought about the illusions that Trump and his supporters and enablers entertain. That only whites matter, that history should be rewritten to reject anyone who was not a white, Christian heterosexual. It’s so narrow and foolish; again, I’m reminding that we’re only as strong as the weakest among us, only as smart as the least intelligent in our ranks, only as healthy and wealthy as the sickest and poorest.

Trump initially sold those ideas to supporters but has abandoned them. He ran on a promise of lowering prices, convincing many that he would do so on day one of his second term, improving the economy. Now, asked about rising gas prices after his attack on Iran and its impact on gas prices, Trump shrugs it off.

“I don’t have any concern about it. They’ll drop very rapidly when this is over, and if they rise, they rise, but this is far more important than having gasoline prices go up a little bit.”

I don’t trust Trump’s analysis or promises. Trump has littered the political landscape with broken promises: he would deliver a new healthcare plan in two weeks. He would never golf because he would be too busy working. Mexico would pay for the wall. There would be no new wars. Prices would come down on day one. He would end Russia’s war on Ukraine on day 1. Those are just the ones I easily remember.

Trump also claimed that last year’s attacks on Iran’s nuclear facilities had destroyed them. Now he says the war is needed to destroy them.

While thinking about Trump’s positions and policies, The Neurons filled the morning mental music stream with “Fooling Yourself” by Styx. I last played this on my blog when COVID-19 was raging in the United States.

Back then, I quoted and commented on these statements and beliefs made by a MAGAt.

No worse than the flu and already going away. No, the greatest threat to America comes from “libtards” and their willingness to give everything away (he believes “Obama destroyed America and the economy”). Further, Trump’s recent sickness was really just a cover for him to rise up and finally vanquish the Dems and “libtards”.

Again, I think Trump supporters are fooling themselves. Trump is fooling himself.

On February 19, 2026, Trump said at the ‘Board of Peace’ meeting in the Oval Office:

“And there’s nothing less expensive than peace. You know, when you go to wars, it costs you 100 times what it costs to make peace.”

Nine days later, Trump launched a war that’s costing over $60,000,000 a day for the United States. This doesn’t address the cost of the other nations, such as Iran, the center of the destruction. Nor does it address the cost of lives lost, disrupted, and destroyed, regardless of the nationality, age, or religion.

And after a year in office, the Ukraine War continues.

The video I chose joins the song’s writer, Tommy Shaw of Styx, performing it with the Cleveland-based Contemporary Youth Orchestra. I hope you watch, listen, and enjoy.

May your day find you warm, safe, and blessed with love and good fortune.

Cheers

Saturdaz Theme Music

Ashland, Oregon, landed on Saturday, January 17, 2026, with a quiet sigh. Freezing fog still plagues us but it’s invisible and doesn’t make us freeze. Temperatures now sit at 55 (my house), 51 (online) and 55 (Alexa) degrees F. Despite air stagnation, freezing fog, and an inversion layer, we’ll hit the mid to upper sixties today.

The snow drought bothers me. I’ve only lived here for 20 years. Dog knows memory is imperfect but this snow season is a monumental shift from my lived-in memories. We don’t usually get much accumulation in Ashland, but we typically get flurries a few times. An inch to three falls, giving us a lovely morning treat before sunshine burns it off into a memory.

There’s been no days like that which I’ve seen this year. I remind myself, this is still January and a couple winter months remain, and spring snow isn’t unusual. Just waiting, I suppose, for a reminder that it is winter.

Waiting for snow, I feel like I’m in stasis. Not the usual stasis where I don’t age and the outside world and I don’t meet. This is more of the stasis of waiting, like, ‘drop the other shoe already’ stasis.

That applies not just to weather. With Frank and Dad gone — two of the triumvirate parental units in my life — I await word on Mom. Regular accounts report her as increasingly less lucid and physically weaker. I think sis does a superb job of helping Mom, and continually thank her in my head and in conversations with her.

Part of my thanks float up whenever I do Food & Friends deliveries. I think, without sis, Mom would probably be in a situation like this, awaiting a knock on the door for a meal delivery, struggling to get to the door and get it open. Many recipients on our route live in nice homes but several lodge in apartments or motel rooms. There must be a better solution that doesn’t cost a gazillion dollars.

Part of my stasis also centers around ICE, especially with Minneapolis. Paul Krugman referred to that city as the ICE crucible, which fits; it’s an ICE experiment for how far Trump can intimidate through force and violence before someone reins him in.

Outside my home, the world spins on its own axis. Trump’s overtures about acquiring Greenland sound more frequently like Putin in Russia talking about Crimea and Ukraine. It strikes me less about geopolitical strategy and more about imperialistic land grab to acquire mineral rights.

So, I wait and wonder, will we go to war over Trump’s Greenland obsession, and how much greater will ICE’s violence against American citizens become?

The Neurons responded to my state with Queen of the Stone Age — “No One Knows”, in the morning mental music stream. The song opens,

‘We get some rules to follow. That and this, these and those, no one knows.’

Those opening lyrics work for my morning mind set. We’re given rules of living but the rules for dying are less defined. Likewise, Trump is a chaos multiplier, breaking rules and establishing his own rules, increasing tension and anxiety.

Hope your day is stress free and strong with hope and grace. Meanwhile, I will break my stasis with coffee and step into the day. Cheers

Must Share

Jill Dennison has again brought us a luscious pre-Thanksgiving offering to humor and politics. I didn’t want to share them but The Neurons felt they were so compelling…anyway, here are my favorites. Hope you go by her site to see the rest.

And the link to the rest…

When All Else Fails, There’s Still ‘TOONS!

And a bonus offering for your time…

Just in time for the holidays!


Fridaz Theme Music

Here comes the fog, do do do do do. Yes, ’tis a foggy Frida, November 21, 2025. Temp is hanging on to 33 F but we expect a rise to 52 F. Then we’ll be smokin’ with gas. Or something.

Political and economic news just seems to get worse. Trump and his regime continue to amaze with how low into the muck they’ll lower themselves. Trump is setting another deadline for Putin and Russia. I believe Putin will skip by that. Tell me if you think otherwise. Far as I can see, Putin continually games Trump because Trump has weakened the United States and its military alliances by his dumbfuckery. Putin knows that. He’ll be all smiley and sweet to Trump’s face but knows that Trump is a bully and a coward and shies away from real confrontation. Yet, Dizzy Donny, in his altered world, considers himself, brave, strong, powerful, smart. So trumplusional. That’s a level of delusion when the truth can’t be acknowledged even when it slams into your face and breaks your nose and cheekbones.

Today’s music comes from Sublime. It seems fog related. That’s my guess. My evidence is that I was looking out the window and remarking to myself about how the fog reduces visibility to the point that it feels and looks like we’re on an island. At around that point, The Neurons turned “Badfish” on in the morning mental music stream, starting with the line, “Won’t somebody get me off of this reef?”

Grace and peace might be out there, hidden in the fog. Or not. Not out there, I mean. Hope they come soon. Meanwhile, yes, coffee. Strong, black, as pure as it can be made with modern processes. Say no more. Here we go, once more into the breach. Cheers

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Another Wenzda has shifted in. It’s October 22, 2025. We’re getting into October’s last legs. Trees are still lively with colors. That huge old oak across the street hasn’t begun shedding yet. When it does, a blizzard of gold will fall to the winds. Meanwhile, seeing its high golden leaves up against the sky’s purest blue refreshes me, and adds depths to my contemplation of what in the world is going on. Now 46 F with the heater on in the house, sunshine, a front, and clear sky will help Ashlandia breach the low seventies today.

Mosquitoes found in Iceland for the first time, says a headline. Well, surely that’s a one off. They just had some record heat. The story says that Iceland and Antarctica were the only places without skeeters. Now there’s just the southern ice cap. I hear it’s been warming and shrinking, so set your calendars. I evaded stories about bomb threats, cars ramming buildings, and other signs of increasing unrest and violence in the U.S. With familiar weariness, I read about Trump rambling through another nonsensical conversation and temper my rage that this is accepted as okay by GOP senators and his donors and minions. I slipped past war updates from Ukraine and edged around the shooting involving a marshal, ICE, and another person, who was supposed to be ‘an immigrant’. Some flirting was done with the tale of the AWS outage that crashed parts of the web over the last several days. My heart and mind were wary of delving into those stories without coffee’s strength first.

The packing for our trip is done. Papi’s minder moves in tomorrow morning. I will miss my furry orange friend. A taxi will whisk us away like refugees in the night. Fingers crossed, etc., by this time tomorrow we’ll be aloft in one of aerospace machines, heading east for Mom’s birthday, seeing family, etc. Sis sent photos of Mom’s new lair. She included the little electric fake fireplace Mom had in her living room. Mom and Frank bought it an estate sale and were so happy with it. I know Mom will find comfort in having it on, warming the air and her heart.

Dad’s birthday is next week. Day after Mom’s, the day before Mom’s late brother, a few weeks after my late mother-in-law, and a week after my brother-in-law. Anyway, I wrote Dad a letter this morning, thanking him for what he’s done for me, telling him how much I enjoy our telephone conversations and laughing with him, etc. Afterward, The Neurons felt it appropriate to insert Dido’s song, “Thank You”, in the morning mental music stream. So here we go.

May peace and grace find their way back to us. Many wonder if they still exist. I believe it’s still being cultivated in many places where protections are in place to keep it from being smashed. Till then, roll on. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

Summery wisps are present for Sunda, October 5, 2025, in Ashlandia. Now 57 F, sunshine and blue skies say summer but the trees’ scarlets, oranges, golds, and yellows remind us, no, we’re turned the seasonal corner. Still, 75 F is our projected high. Good day for getting outside for yard chores. Papi approved, to judge from his floofverbals — tail up, eyes slitting in appreciation as a sun pool is turned into a floofspot. He commences a lazy spruce up of his whiskers.

Several interesting articles were read this AM. One is an Adam Gabbatt analysis in The Guardian addressing Trump’s increasing strange behavior.

The president is unhinged’: Trump’s online behavior grows increasingly odd

The column highlighted Trump’s AI use to portray Rep. Hakeem Jeffries as Hispanic, a strange and silly ploy which drew Hispanic anger against Trump. That was stacked atop the right-wing conspiracy about med beds shared in a Trump tweet (later deleted), his unfounded ideas about pregnant women using Tylenol, and Trump’s pingpong attention span. Trump went from the Michigan synagogue shooting, where he promised to keep people updated and then never posted about it again, to bragging about the tacky gold decoration he’s added to the Oval Office to his dissatisfaction with an NFL kickoff rule. Then he talked about how presidents walk.

“America is respected again as a country. We were not respected with Biden. They looked at him falling down stairs every day. Every day, the guy’s falling down stairs.”

Trump continued: “I said: ‘It’s not our president. We can’t have it.’ I’m very careful, you know, when I walk downstairs for – like I’m on stairs, like these stairs, I’m very – I walk very slowly. Nobody has to set a record, just try not to fall because it doesn’t work out well. A few of our presidents have fallen and it became a part of their legacy.

“We don’t want that. Need to walk nice and easy. You not have – you don’t have to set any record. Be cool, be cool when you walk down, but don’t, don’t bop down the stairs. That’s the one thing with Obama, I had zero respect for him as a president, but he would bop down those stairs, I’ve never seen – da da da da da da, bop, bop, bop, he’d go down the stairs, wouldn’t hold on. I said, it’s great, I don’t want to do it. I guess I could do it, but eventually bad things are going to happen and it only takes once, but he did a lousy job as president.”

Those of us who regularly Trump watch were wearily unsurprised. No, we’re more amazed that the GOP cynically not just accepts Trump’s surreal behavior but actually celebrate and support it. Meanwhile, Trump grows more violent, more eager to use the military every day. Attacks against Venezuela have escalated without any checks being offered by Congress about WTF is going on. And Trump regularly drools over chances of sending in military, even threatening to use the 82nd Airborne, into American cities run by Democrats.

The other article catching my attention was more direct about Trump and his growing wars.

Trump’s phony war on Venezuela — and his larger war on reality

That’s the heart of the matter, isn’t it: Trump is conducting a war on reality, and bringing his alternate reality and self-created facts and history into our reality. That’s the old square peg in a round hole problem. Trump reality is wholly at odds with truth, facts, medicine, and history, and often wars with logic. This piece is by Andrew O’Hehir in Salon. O’Hehir writes,

This war on the world has both fictional goals and real ones, and the fact that those are incompatible is, once again, not a fundamental problem for Trump’s courtiers or adherents. There’s no hypothetical version of global equilibrium in which the United States is simultaneously the dominant superpower and also an isolationist fortress-state with zero immigration. I would guess that Trump loves the sound of that but doesn’t follow the logic too far, while the people who intend to outlast him just “yes queen” along and roll their eyes. Their goal is more doable: leveraging American power to ensure the continued dominance of the billionaire elite for at least as long as our planet remains habitable. (They’re aware that it probably shouldn’t be advertised that way.)

This is how many of us have viewed Trump and MAGALand since early days. I recommend reading the entire article.

The summer/autumn blend has The Neurons feeding me a song about summer. Called “Summer”, by Calvin Harris. This video of young people at a show having fun was amusing to me to watch. Hope it doesn’t something for you, too.

Coffee has again answered the call. Peace and grace are still hanging back, despite my naked dance under the moonlight last night. Hope peace and grace get here soon. Till then, cheers.

Twozdaz Theme Music

Howdy, sports fans. It’s Twozda, September 9, 2025. 62 degrees F holds forth in Ashlandia. Marbled clouds headline the moment. Never fear: it’s going to move to 69 degrees F by the day’s end, although we may need to navigate more thunder and rain while we get there. Feels like autumn has got its dandruff up and is out to end summer’s hold on Ashland.

Yesterday early afternoon found us with a huge downpour. People rushed into the coffee shop bursting with news about how intense, sudden, and cold the rain was. Brief was added to its description as the rain ceased after ten relentless minutes.

Then, 2:30 AM. A sound is covering the house. My sleepy mind thought it was a giant fan. Asking, what fan is that, I roamed through the house and realized, that giant fan sound was rain hissing down with Biblical efforts. I returned to bed and sleep only to awaken a while later to my wife in the kitchen getting water.

A sharp, high squeal noise had awakened me. I asked my wife if she’d heard it. “It’s raining,” she said.

I listened. “It stopped.”

“No, it’s still going.”

Papi and I went out back to prove the rain was stopped. It was. Cool breezes swept by with friendly helloes. Moonlight bright enough to walk on broke out. Rain clouds were splitting up and racing away in different directions, leaving a starry dark gray feast for my eyes. “This is nice,” I said. Papi didn’t disagree.

After I was back in bed, a sound like a brassy chord being strong on an electric guitar awakened me. “What the hell was that?” The Neurons asked the dark room. Nobody was giving any answers about noises.

Dad remains hospitalized. Not much can be done about a fractured pelvis. He’s due to be moved to a rehab center today. Andy is also being moved to a rehab center to help him recover from his hip fracture. Sis is mum about her medical procedure and its results.

Gritting my teeth and swallowing my GRRRRR, I peruse the news. Trump is suing the WSJ and anyone attached to the story about his ‘alleged’ birthday card/notes to Epstein. I’m sure Trump is betting that the story will be withdrawn and apologies issues. Meanwhile, he donated the Bible his mother presented to him in his boyhood to a Bible Museum. The net responded with laughter and mocking about the Bible. Most doubt that Trump opened his Bible, read it, and went to church, except for publicity when it suited his needs.

More attacks have been carried out in several wars. None of the war reporting arrives with a sense that the fighting is going to end soon. The major aggressors, Russia and Israel, are well past reasonable lines about their intentions. All can see that Russia will not stop until it has Ukraine. Israel won’t stop until Hamas are all dead. Neither nation displays concern or empathy for the innocents they’re killing.

Economic news will take over today’s media top spots. 911,000 fewer jobs were created between April 2024 and March 2025, BLS says. US job growth through March was significantly weaker than previously thought. Economists and analysts are telling us that it means the jobs markets was even worse than realized. A large downward revision was expected, with many citing sampling errors resulting from declining survey responses, weaker-than-inferred job creation at new firms, and adjustments related to asylum-seekers and other undocumented workers. The pandemic’s impact on the global labor market and residual adjustments were also blamed. Trump’s WH thinks that it proves Trump was right, the Biden economy was a disaster, and the BLS reporting is broken. That’s certainly puzzling, isn’t it: the Trump Regime is depending on a system they claim is broken to prove they’re right. Classic MAGAt non-thinking.

All this has culminated in The Neurons’ song choice for my morning mental music stream. It stormed in Ashland, with more storms coming. Trump is riding a storm of criticism about Jeffrey Epstein. We the People are riding through the storm of data about what’s going on with the economy. Hence, The Neurons summoned The Doors and “Riders on the Storm”.

Coffee has dropped in for an extended visit. May grace and peace visit and stay with us all for a while. Here we go again. Cheers

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