Thursday’s Theme Music — Gambling
Ashland, Oregon — April 9, 2026.
Springish today. After an evening of solid rain, clouds maintain a presence and sunshine is muted. 54 F is our temperature now, with the chance of more rain and a high in the mid 60s. Right now, if you walk out and the clouds are merged, it’s chilly. But when sunshine is freed, you feel the heat.
Late blogging/writing start. We ran errands this morning, looking for plants to fill gaps. Then, since we were out and around grocery stores, quick runs to pick up a few items.
There’s also been heavy texting with my sister about Mom. Mom asks when sister is selling Mom’s house and also talks about plans to move in there, leaving us wondering, what? D Day, when Mom said she is moving out of the assisted living facility, arrives soon. Everyone advises her not to, but she’s adamant about her intentions, even if she lacks plans.
Is the Iran War cease fire holding? The news cycle runs fast these days and I haven’t been at my computer for hours. All manner of disasters, attacks, and accusations may have happened in the four hours since I was last on the ‘puter.
Bad news is emerging out of the US Postal Service. They’re suspending FERS contributions due to a cash flow problem. But this stuff has been going on for a while. Rural areas have been suffering as the USPS closed rural post offices and satellite operations. Meanwhile, as the cost of a first-class stamp keeps rising. Now, thanks to Trump’s Iran War, the cost to ship things such as the mail are also rising.
This all puts more stress on our economic system and the most vulnerable of our society. Consider how many elderly and rural people depend on the postal service to receive medication and bills. They’re the ones who were most negatively impacted by several aspects of Trump’s One Big Beautiful Bill and are the ones who will suffer most under his proposed 2027 budget.
It’ll be interesting to see how our political leaders respond. Polarized, Congress has been gridlocked and even routine budget seems like titanic challenges. Can a Trump -led government rise to the level of thinking and cooperation needed to address this problem or will we wait until it’s a crisis.
Today’s news and environment encouraged The Neurons to play “Living in the Past”. This Jethro Tull came out in 1969. It’s all about waiting to live in a more peaceful, relaxed time, so you can see how it plays in this period.
Hope you have a relaxed day, filled with peace and grace, and if not that, that you emerge safe and unscathed.
Cheers
At the Moment
Middle age
Young age
Old age
A childhood time
Post modernism
Pre-industrial
Eras we define
Space age
Information age
Net age
Here we come
Knowledge at our fingertips
Truth is on the run
Thinking
Wishing
Wondering what will be
How will history
Change this age
Of truth
Of change
Of greed?
Sitting on the cusp
Of something
Trying to make sense
How long can this go on
With so many
On the fence?
If you ask me what it means
Uncertainty arises
I think I know what I see
I’m not sure
I like it
Fridaz Theme Music
The temperature is sulking between 28 (my house) and 37 F (the net). The net amends its claim, “Feels like 27 degrees”. Well, alright then.
It’s Frida, January 9, 2026. The grass is a ghostly shade of green under an unstoppable blue sky. Sunshine feeds light into the valley. All of it looks promising, optimistic. Today’s high will drag the mercury to 46 F.
I’m processing news and information, reflecting on 2026’s launch and its relative successes and failures. Mom and sis have been quiet. Sis has only commented on another sister’s behavior. The other sister is urging everyone to sell Mom’s house quickly but is not doing anything to make that happen.
Sis and Mom are quiet. I hope it’s because stress has dropped for the two, letting them breathe and communicate. I have my fingers crossed that we’ll see a peaceful January. If they can go an entire month without blowing up my phone with texts accusing the other of hate and malfeasance, it’ll be a new record.
Likewise, watching growing reactions in the political world, I slowly became hopeful that improvements are rising. My hopes are not unlimited.
After an ICE agent shot and killed an American citizen in Minneapolis, there was a shooting involving border patrol agents and civilians in Portland. Fortunately, only two civilians were shot and they received prompt medical treatment. I don’t know how the two victims are faring; I hope both are recovering.
Mixed concerns rose after listening to Portland’s Mayor and Oregon Governor Tina Kotes speaking after the shooting. They called out Trump, Homeland Security, and ICE to de-escalate the situation. They then talked about re-building an atmosphere of trust.
Sadly, I don’t think Trump cares about a trust between citizens or political parties. Trump has ramped up his belligerence in 2026’s early days by insinuating that more military action against other nations and territories is possible. Even as National Guard units are being removed from Portland (OR) due to a judge’s order, Trump threatens to send them back in.
My worries about his increasing threats are grounded in the claim he’s recently made that only he can stop himself. Trump’s history is not one of self-restraint and his second term is replete with threats. He’s attacked judges who ruled against him, politicians who speak against him, and reporters who don’t portray him as the greatest.
Between Mom, sis, Trump, and the weather, I’m ready for January to be emotionally up and down. As it sometimes is with me, that mood summons songs from the grunge side.
This morning, the delivery came as I watched a small bird fly down to the yard. After three quick hops, he flitted to the wire. His little head popped left and right. To my mind, he was doing a recon, and his conclusion was, no, this is not the place, because he jumped up and flew off.
I smiled throughout this and thought about having wings and flying. The Neurons jumped into the thought party at that point to play me some “Down in A Hole” by Alice in Chains in the morning mental music stream.
The Neurons didn’t start at the beginning. They selected the lines, “I’d like to fly, but my wings have been so denied.” Laughter to that seemed like an appropriate response.
Coffee has been added to my morning tilt. Energy is rising. I hope you all reach and stay in a good place for this day and the many to follow. Cheers
Twozdaz Theme Music
Twozda arrived on January 6, 2026 looking for all the world like it was December of 2025. It’s the same greyness which tamped down spirits and kept us chilly, forcing us to turn on the lights during the day and keep the heat running. Temperatures dance the spectrum from 38 F at my house to 41 according to Alexa with Microsoft announcing 47 F. Southern Oregon University comes in with 40.5 F.
My wife joins me at the window. “Are we in it yet?”
“I don’t know.”
She’s referring to the winter storm we’ve been warned about. Located in a protective valley, Ashland’s zone warns snow is expected above 2000 ft in Jackson County with total accumulations up to 6 inches. My house is at 2100 ft, so we in wait and watch mode.
As uncertain as the weather comes more political news. The Trump administration announced they’re withholding social services funds for five states, all of which happen to have Democratic Party leadership. Here I was, nursing the impression that we’re a nation who harbors an all for one and one for all mentality.
Actions like this from Trump undermines our unity. He does so without offering evidence other than a announcement that there’s fraud.
Not offering any evidence is the Trump way. No evidence was ever offered that the boats he ordered to be destroyed carried any drugs. They were destroyed on Trump’s insistence that they carried fentanyl and other narcotics.
As others noted, although Trump kept insisting that Venezuela and President Maduro were involved in transporting fentanyl to the United States, fentanyl wasn’t mentioned in the charges against Maduro and his wife.
After reading the news about Trump’s activities, my mood was cratering. Fortunately, Papi the ginger blade and The Neurons rescued me. Fresh in from the cold weather, I offered Papi, “Treat?” All signs pointed to “Yes!” as his tail went straight up, his back arched, and happiness glinted in his amber gold eyes.
Laughing, I provided the treats. As Papi gobbled them up, I joked about our home being his treat shack.
In a cosmic flash, The Neurons brought “Love Shack” by the B-52’s into the morning mental music stream. I didn’t mind at all. That jaunty 1989 rocker about a funky little place where people went to have fun and socialize is the perfect antidote to the blues attempting to take over. Singing and dancing and a general elevation of spirits can’t be denied when I hear it.
Once again, I put out hope that peace and grace arise to counter what’s happening to our nation and the world. Perhaps we coffee and time, we will prevail. Cheers
The Cat & Dog Dream
I was at some sort of crowded little outdoor coffee. The business was wedged into a place not made for business. Small tables crowded together on a patio lined with low cinder-block walls on two sides, flowery weeds growing out of cracks, all on the edge of a tiny parking lot. A street is close by. The actual business, a rustic hole-in-the-wall offering is on the parking lot’s other side along with two or three other tiny businesses.
Pretty day and I’m a young visitor. A ginger and white cat comes to check me out. A woman who comes and goes says, “She’s begging for food. She’s always begging for food.” I try to accommodate the friendly feline. Fortunately, I have cat food! It’s cheese and something. I open the plastic cat food container and let the cat sniff. It’s eager, so I put the container down under the table, under a flowery tablecloth, so the cat can eat it.
The cat quickly returns. “You didn’t eat all that, that fast, did you?” I look below. “No, you barely touched it.” I laughed and scratched the cat’s head. “You just like being fed, don’t you?”
The woman returns with a small dog. Terrier type with curly beige fur. The dog is polite, with bright eyes, sniffing around but making no sounds.
“He’s looking for food,” the woman says. “He likes to eat the cat food.”
The dog finds the cat food and goes to town. Then the woman orders him to follow her and they’re off again.
I feed the cat again, laughing at myself for doing so. I open several of the plastic tins just to humor the cat. It licks and eats from several of them, then comes back in a quest for more.
The woman and dog return. I tell the woman about opening several packages for the cat. I realize that I’ve been sitting there for a few hours and worry about the food going bad. I ask the woman if it’s okay for the dog to eat them. The dog watches me with silent hope during the exchange. When the woman says, “Yes,” the dog jumps down and I give it some old food.
Then, in a dream shift, a friend arrives. She’s another writer. I know that she’s quit writing but she’s here to talk to me about it. So we go walking. She’s young, Black, and shorter than me. I encourage her not to stop writing. She feels like it’s become a waste. I ask her, “But if you don’t write, how will you know what you think? Isn’t that important to you?”
She repeats what I say. We’ve been walking on a trail. Now we come to a bunch of teens. They’re crowding around a bush. Dozens of tiny black insects buzz through the air. “The hornets are back,” one teen says. “Look, they’re building a nest.”
He indicates a space inside a bush. I look. Yes, the little black things are building a thing that looks like a miniature beehive. I’ve never seen anything like it. I wonder if these are really wasps. I don’t really know.
Dream ends.
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
Well, It’s Obvious
I’ve not read others’ posts about lessons they wished they’d learned earlier in life yet. I wouldn’t be surprised if others express the same lesson learned which I learned, a lesson I’ve learned several times. It’s simple: trust yourself. Though I’m not the smartest or wisest individual, I need to trust my intelligence. Though not the most talented, trust my talents. Pay attention to the little voice when it’s trying to encourage me and pay attention when it’s warning me.
Pause, here, to note, I feel naked staking this claim, naked, vulnerable, egotistical, and needy. But I’m swallowing those things to push myself to be honest and open here, to share this so that others can take a lesson from my lesson.
My self-confidence was frequently smothered when I was young. I kept getting bludgeoned by a stepfather who told me I was stupid. He told me that all the time: “You’re stupid. You don’t think.” That recurring process eroded my self-confidence. I started shutting my mouth, retiring to a place to be stupid by myself, becoming a loner. I was and am comfortable as a loner, so that wasn’t that great a change. But my doubt about my potential was really a killer. Since I stayed quiet and didn’t participate in things, I constantly surprised classmates with high test scores, good grades, and accomplishments. When honors came my way later, people were astonished. Then, later, people nicknamed me ‘The Professor’.
Yet, I continued to doubt my skills and abilities. I still do. Everything I attempt requires not one but several pep talks. That usually accompanies procrastination until I build up the courage to make an attempt to myself out, to brace myself to be exposed as an imposter. It also causes me to overtry, which can also end in bad results. In short, like bunches of other people, I’m a headcase.
I have come a long way. Some minor successes have fed that. My wife’s trust in me has fed it, too. So have comments and support from friends and bosses. And teachers; my teachers often saw and cultivated good things in me, and I owe them a doubt too large to ever be fully repaid. I’ve been fortunate in that I have had good friends, good teachers, and good bosses. Despite them, I keep forgetting that lesson about myself. My self-confidence gets smothered again and again. I still hear my stepfather telling me, “You’re stupid.” I do keep learning the lesson that I’m not, but I wish I could keep that lesson in the forefront of my being: trust yourself. You’re not stupid.
You’re better than you imagine yourself to be.
Frida’s Theme Music
Greetings again, world. It’s time again for Frida. Today is April 11, 2025. Those of you in ‘Merica might note the date and say, “Oh, yeah. Taxes.” I finished mine back in early Feb but held off submitting because I owe, I owe. Submitting them is on tonight’s agenda.
It’s 54 F at this point. Feels like it to me. Sunshine is a light version of itself today. Mmm, yeah, cloudy. Might rain. Might not. Might get up to 60 F. Then again, might not. This is Ashlandia spring weather.
Been reading and digesting the news. I know what I make of things. I see that on the political spectrum’s right side, they’re either cherry-picking info or hiding it. Cherry-picking as in, “Look how strong the market was Wednesday.” Hiding, as in, crickets about inflation and the price of eggs. Eggs bounced up into record realms. Rising prices were offset by Trusk Regime imports from Turkey and South Korea.
“Turkey and South Korea,” my wife said. “Wonder if the tariffs will change that.”
Looking out the window, I noted the weather change. The Neurons perversely seized the weather change and fired up “Call Me the Breeze”. They had the 1974 Lynyrd Skynyrd cover of the JJ Cale classic going in the morning mental music stream in short order.
“Ain’t no change in the weather
Ain’t no change in me
Ain’t no change in the weather
Ain’t no change in me
I ain’t hidin’ from nobody
Ain’t nobody hidin’ from me
h/t Genius.com
I enjoy the LS version but we’re not all the same, so here’s Eric Clapton and JJ Cale doing another offering.
And then we have an offerin’ by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.
I find them fine but in different ways. Hope one suited your Frida taste buds.
Coffee and I have metaphorically joined hands once again. Hope your Frida is going strong and just gets better and better, and I’m not being snarky when I say that.
Cheers
Twosda’s Wandering Political Thoughts
I had an interesting exercise a short while ago. On a writing break to stretch my butt and water my mouth, I perused some NYT to chill before returning to my regular scheduled writing plan.
This really caught my attention. It’s the articles trending in the NYTimes. I noticed it when I finished reading an article about the Jeju aircraft crash that took place last December.
It’s quickly apparent that Trump’s moves are dominating stories at this venue. Ponder those titles. They reveal the divisiveness, uncertainty, and chaos Trump is causing. Those few stories that try to spin Trump’s actions as a ‘good thing’ are written by conservatives. Surprise, right?
BTW, that piece titled, “Opinion: Trump Has Everything Under Control” is the regular Gail Collins and Bret Stephens piece. It is not a positive piece about Trump.
Gail Collins: OK, Bret, I know you can’t tell the future, but give me a prediction. Will President Trump’s tariffs go down as one of the 100 worst decisions in presidential history? 50? 10?
Bret Stephens: As an economic matter, possibly the worst presidential decision ever. Say what you will about Herbert Hoover, but he was an honorable public servant who didn’t have the benefit of hindsight when he signed the Smoot-Hawley tariff into law in 1930. As a foreign policy matter, it’s at least in the top five worst. It’ll be a few months before we see the full consequences in terms of reciprocal tariffs, broken alliances, destroyed trust and an America that has dethroned itself from global economic leadership. And don’t be surprised if it leads to war, as global economic upheavals often do.
Other than that, Gail, it was a great week. Like millions of other Americans, I barely noticed losing a big chunk of my net worth. Can’t wait for all the price increases to kick in.
As for many other articles in this list, they often feature conservatives now bemoaning what Trump is doing to the United States and world economy. None of these stories were long. I read them all. What emerged to me was how many were still coping with Trump’s chaos as if this was a surprise. Come on, man, where were you people getting your news?
Michael Seidel, writer 