Thirstdaz Theme Music

We’re in a weather triangle, a tangle of seasonal changes. Summer is drifting away, taking its warmth and going elsewhere. Today’s high is 75 F, an eleven-degree scramble from our current posture. Thunderstorms threaten again. Looking back, we had few days over 100 F, a relief from previous years when clusters of such days savaged us. Much more rain is visited upon us than usual, allaying drought worries. For the record, this is Thirstda, September 11, 2025.

So, here we sit, looking back at 9/11 while pondering the assassination of Charles Kirk. I’m in a triangulation of despair about the U.S.’s polarization and violence, lamenting, another gun killing, and dismayed reflection on Kirk’s rhetoric, spewed often, about killing others. Some will say that his death by gun seems karmic; he’s reaping what he ordered for others. We’ll see the question, is this a tipping point for the U.S., often played out. We won’t know until we’re further down the road. What we do know is that Kirk, as we often see from the right in the U.S. in this age, cherry-picked Bible verses to foment resentment, hate, and violence. What we also expect is some spillage from the conspiracy machine, trying to use Kirk’s death as a wedge between us, trying to make a bad situation worse. Unfortunately, that’s how some people now think.

There’s one clear bennie for Trump from this, in that Kirk’s death will be a distraction and take some pressure off Trump about his relationship with Epstein and lessen the drumbeat to release the files.

Meanwhile, from down south in northern California, emerged a story about vanishing rural hospitals. SF Gate reports, “The closure of Glenn Medical Center, located north of Sacramento in remote Glenn County, is expected to happen as soon as next month. It’s one of at least 28 anticipated hospital closures in rural California, which is confronting financial hardship under the Trump administration’s punitive health care policies that include cracking down on access to coverage for patients who are in the country without permission.” The county housing Glenn Medical Center went for Trump 2:1. FAFO.

The problem with writing this off as FAFO and moving on is that thinking people know the reciprocal and collateral effects of rural hospitals shutting down. Beyond the simple impact that those citizens will now need to travel further for healthcare, their healthcare will decline. It’s inevitable. To travel further, they’ll need to take more time off from work. Most will resist doing that, resist making those trips. That’s often how the human mind works. They’ll hold off for whatever rationalizations they fed themselves and then it will be too late for some. Unemployment will climb as these hospitals and medical centers close. The lack of such facilities will make these communities less attractive for living and business opportunities. What company will want to move a factory there, when basics like medical treatment is limited? The ironic center of all this is that they’re Trump voters and brought it on themselves by supporting Trump and his agenda. There’s no joy in seeing and knowing that. Just weariness.

Today’s song is by the Rolling Stones. This is a 1968 beat. “Sympathy for the Devil” focuses on human violence through Satan’s viewpoint. “Pleased to meet you. Hope you guess my name. But what’s puzzlin’ you is the nature of my game.”

I watched with glee while your kings and queens
Fought for ten decades for the gods they made

I shouted out, “Who killed the Kennedys?”
When, after all, it was you and me
Let me please introduce myself
I’m a man of wealth and taste

And I laid traps for troubadours
Who get killed before they reach Bombay

h/t to Genius.com

So now we shout out, who killed Charles Kirk? When after all, it’s you and me, and our polarized, paralyzed government. Pleased to meet you.

On to a ‘new day’. Coffee has blessed my taste buds. May grace and peace find us all. Cheers

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Sunny has unfolded from the origami clouds. Rain pestered us with brief spitting contests. Overnight had autumn drag more of its influence in. Chillier air presides. Rain is expected. Currently 66 F with sunshine and clouds mixing it up, 72 F is our projected high.

I spoke to Dad this morning. Loopy with drugs, he wasn’t himself. I told him that I’d passed on his situation to Mom. Mom’s response was, “Tell that rat bastard that I hope he gets well soon.” Dad laughed over that. ‘Rat bastard’ is Mom’s affectionate handle for Dad.

Bad news came in about Andy, another hospitalized friend. If you thinkback, Andy was taken to the hospital a week ago after beer with friends. After falling in the street earlier that day, he was complaining of pain. Turned out he’d fractured his hip. So, he went through surgery, was removed to a rehab place, etc. All was going well. Last night, he got out bed and fell again, this time breaking his hip. It was back to surgery and the hospital. We understand that he’s under sedation at this point.

I met with my surgeon yesterday. While he’s a ‘general surgeon’, he’s done thousands of gallbladder surgeries and specializes in them. We went over expectations and my situation and set a date for November 5. It would have been sooner but I postponed it to travel east for Mom’s 90th BD do. I liked the surgeon. He was patient and affable and spent a lot of time talking with me, relating his own gallbladder removal a few years ago. He’s also a big fella. Two or three of me could’ve stood in his pants. I think I came up to his belly button. With all that, he also has an identical twin brother, who’s a surgeon in Montana. His younger brother is a surgeon who just moved into the area to practice. I wondered if he came from a family of surgeons. No, Dad was a dentist and Mom was an elementary school teacher.

I didn’t spend any time with the news this morning, busying myself with other matters. Today’s music is by Ed Sheeran. “Thinking Out Loud” occupied the morning mental music stream as I reflected on aging. I wasn’t thinking just of my aging, but of everyone. It’s a delicate and reflective song, fit for a delicate, reflective morning that shimmers with fading summer.

Coffee has anointed my tongue again. Hope grace and peace flowers for us today and every day. Cheers

Mundaz Theme Music

Autumn is toddling in, dragging cooler air over us. Wildfire smoke adds a gauzy layer to tamp down temperatures. 68 F, clouds scuff up the blue sky. Thunderstorms are expected to drop in, and the temperature will top at a cordial 75 F. This is Munda, September 8, 2025. Our air quality is moderate, hovering in the 90s.

Dad is in the hospital in Texas, going through tests and assessments to see what can be done about his condition. Mom is okay at home, it seems, coming across as feisty in her texts. Steve is in hospice with multiple myeloma. Andy is recovering in the hospital from his surgery and getting ready to begin physical therapy. Sis is going into the hospital for a ‘medical procedure’ today. Telling me via text yesterday that she wasn’t well, she remained vague about what her medical procedure was for. I see my doctor tomorrow. Sounds like friends and family medical week.

The latest unexpected shock to the system politically has the Roberts Court again supporting Trump. Yes, it’s a real *gasp* moment. The ruling allows ICE to randomly patrol and pick up people based on whatever the fuck motivates those actions that day. It’s the Trump MAGALand way. MAGAts are applauding it. One said in comments on an article, “As an American I think that ICE and any law enforcement officer enforcing our immigration laws and detaining and having any and all illegal people regardless of race or nationality, is exactly what they should be doing, and we support them 100%.” Except, yawn, ‘Old Patriot Guy’, they’re not enforcing laws; they’re enforcing Executive Orders. Due process isn’t being followed. But that’s okay with OPG and others like him. Ends justify the means. To them, everyone ICE picks up is an illegal and needs to be kicked out. Like how he shifted from ‘I, American’ to ‘we’ by his comment’s end. Was that a slip of the royal we subconsciously thrust in there? Of course, MAGAts consistently demonstrate narrow focus and shallow thinking. OPG might be applauding and waving his flag over Trump’s ICE disappearing people without due process, but you can bet that his comments will change if he and his get struck. He’ll probably then whine, “What happened to innocent until proven guilty?” We know that in Trump’s U.S., that only applies to PINO TACO himself.

Meanwhile, Trump has again opted for fiction to support his decisions and policies. Has to be so for PINO Trump, if you think about it; truth, logic, reality, honor, and history all stand firmly against him. Since Trump brought it up, how much will longer we need to endure Trumpocalypse? Nine months into 2025, it’s already too much.

Trump Angrily Tells Reporter His Own Truth Post Is ‘Fake News’

Today’s music is for Rick Davies, Supertramp member and songwriter. He passed at 81 after losing to cancer. The Neurons and I agreed to play 1974’s “Bloody Well Right” in the morning mental music stream in honor and memory of Rick Davies.

Hope peace and grace sniff you out and give you help as needed today. Coffee has made a splash in my body. And it’s off to the races we go. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

Sunda, September 7, 2025, arrives, cool, dry, smoky. I’m not sure where the smoke comes from. 65 F, today’s high will pluck 80 F. Rain ended up dominating our road trip to Crater Lake National Park yesterday. The weather added a dramatic element.

Our guests left this morning. They’re on the road to Carmel, CA. We had a good time with them. They seemed to enjoy our company and area. Hope they have safe travels.

Meanwhile, there’s been an ongoing saga. Don’t know what I revealed here. Last Wenzda was our recurring beer meeting. One member, Andy, is a retired doctor. Not sure of his age, but I think he’s a little older than me. Part of his issues required a shunt in his brain to reduce pressure. That helped and he seemed to be recovering. Suddenly, there’s a step backward. He later related that he’d fallen in the street in front of his house earlier that day. A passing driver saw, stopped, helped. But Andy was in pain, putting at 9 of 10. Said, “I think I may have fractured my hip.”

Well, one member volunteered to transport him to the hospital, where, yes, this weekend, Andy had surgery for his fractured hip and is in the hospital. Various friends have been visiting him, and I’ll do that today.

On the family front, the siblings went together to buy Mom a new smart TV for her new bedroom. It seems that her other television has been stuck on ‘the western channel’, according to sis. Mom and her BF, Frank, have bought twin beds for the new bedroom so they can both sleep in there. That way, there’s no calling around at night for him to get there to help her. Mom celebrates her 90 BD next month.

In the Texas side of the family, I returned from being out where none of us had cellphone service to find a message from Dad’s wife. Dad had fallen in the kitchen, fracturing his pelvis and hip socket. He was hospitalized with pneumonia. Now, the text says, “He’s out of hospice.” It seems like it’s a dire situation for them. I called, got VM, left a message. A new text says that a nurse got him out of bed and standing, with help from pain pills. His wife asked me to give him a call after the Steelers game is over, which I’ll do. Dad is due to celebrate his 93rd BD next month.

Politically, I read last night that Speaker Johnson should be writing novels. That’s what I took, as Johnson demonstrated some amazing creativity. Effectually reaching up his ass, Johnson pulled out more cover for Trump with a claim Trump was an FBI informant about Epstein’s activities. This is so wildly out of nowhere that it’s been immediately and relentlessly mocked. Apparently, too, that paragon of justice and concern — that would be the Offal Office mango leech — was so concerned about Epstein’s activities that he voluntarily became an informant. Who out there is going to believe this? Does Speaker Johnson even believe what he’s saying? If he does, what sort of meds is Johnson on?

Johnson’s additions just layer the Epstein files with a byzantine plot. Trump claims the Epstein file is a hoax. Before that, TACO — and we need to label him that, TACO, Trump Always Chickening Out — promised to release the Epstein files during his presidential election campaign, but has since chickened out from doing that. Trump frequently blows his top when others ask questions or make references to the files. Trump has been documented as an Epstein friend for a long time before the shit hit the fan. Now he was really an FBI informant. Man, the crazy gets too cra-cra.

All these matters have brought together an Eagles song. The Neurons heard me mutter to myself, sometimes with a sigh, sometimes with a GRRRR, time will tell. The Neurons immediately jumped up with “The Long Run” by the Eagles. Yeah, I’m singing “Who is going to make it, we’ll find out,” but I’m also singing, “What’s really going on, we’ll find out in the long run.”

There are things to do and write. Coffee is flowing through the body, making connections as needed. Hope peace and grace connects with you today. Here we go. Cheers

Satyrdaz Theme Music

September is dashing through the weekdaz. We’ve already punched through to Satyrda, September 6, 2025. It wasn’t hot. Rain fell. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed. Hail slammed us. Yes, it was an Oregon road trip.

Here is “On the Road Again”. Canned Heat. At Woodstock.

Hope your day was well, my fellow earth dwellers, and peace and grace found and kept you. Cheers

Fridaz Theme Music

Oppressive humidity is doing in the morning. Not overly high humidity in the general sense. We’re just not used to humidity here.

It’s Frida, September 5, 2025. Temperature is 72 F but it feels warmer and less comfortable due to the humidity. We’ll peak in the low 90s today, unlike yesterday, when we clashed with 97 F.

My sister-in-law and her boyfriend arrived. Although they came in from Florida, they weren’t prepared for the heat. They’d been on the coast, then went inland to see the redwoods, and talked about the 30-degree temperature change they experienced in a short time and distance. The boyfriend, a year or two my senior, then asked as we walked around, “Can we go to somewhere with air-conditioning and sit down for a pint?” He’s an amiable individual. An engineer, we discovered that he and I grew up in Pittsburgh suburbs about four miles of each other. We’re both Steeler football fans. Besides three pints, he drank a tumbler of scotch during the space of dinner and the next two hours.

They’re sleeping in this morning after doing a lot of driving and traveling over the past three days. Once they call, we’ll take them somewhere local for food and then do local sightseeing.

I saw the jobs report this morning. Funny that firing the BLS person responsible for the last dismal jobs report didn’t change the dismal numbers. Just 22,000 jobs added. Oh, my. Not looking good for Trump’s economy. These hard numbers are backing up the anecdotes we’re hearing about business chains closing locations, small and medium businesses shuttering their doors, layoffs being announced. Lots of FAFO stories emerging. Of course, that could be the news services which I frequent catering to my interests and attitudes, at least to some degree. I try vesting such info as best as I can but that’s a challenge in this digital era.

Today’s music arrived from a confluence of events. One, Papi and I were out last night. I first was checking the moon, then looking for spaceships. Papi accompanied me. I’m not sure what he was checking out. Then, I dreamed that I was cooking. The meal was coming out looking good and smelled good. It was being done in this strange little apartment. But as I was cooking, several Russians stopped by. They were mostly talking to my wife but also addressing questions to me. This annoyed and distracted me.

The net of this, as I recalled last night and the dream, is that The Neurons rose up with a Jackson Browne song called “Lawyers in Love”. A satirical song about U.S. politics, consumerism, and U.S. pop culture, its lyrics feature both Russians and spaceships. I enjoy the song, but many friends thought it odd when it came out. Of course, that’s precisely why I enjoyed it.

I can’t keep up with what’s been going on
I think my heart must just be slowing down
Among the human beings in their designer jeans
Am I the only one who hears the screams
And the strangled cries of lawyers in love

God sends his spaceships to America, the beautiful
They land at six o’clock and there we are, the dutiful
Eating from TV trays, tuned in to Happy Days
Waiting for World War III while Jesus slaves
To the mating calls of lawyers in love

Last night I watched the news from Washington, the capitol
The Russians escaped while we weren’t watching them, like Russians will
Now we’ve got all this room, we’ve even got the moon
And I hear the U.S.S.R. will be open soon
As vacation land for lawyers in love

I find it humorous and love the musical flourishes which reflect different eras of pop music.

Time to rock and roll another day away. Hope that grace and peace finds and guides you. Have the best Frida possible. Cheers

Thirstdaz Theme Music

A warmish night granted us a muggy, warmish day. It’s still summer, Thirstda, September 4, 2025. 90 F now, 95 to 97 F will mark the thermometer before the day’s end.

Pretty freaking funny that Trump’s Never Surrender Inc PAC has surrendered to Trump dying. They’ve made that clear by asking MAGA donors for small donations in an email with the subject line, “I want to try and get to Heaven”. Trump is obviously depending on Riches 1:666, in the Bible. Riches 1:666 says, “In my father’s house, there are many rooms and elevators, but only one elevator goes to heaven. For God so loves money that he rewards those who die with the most cash on hand with an express elevator to heaven.”

Lots of political talk circulated last night. One person reported ordering something from India. DHL sent her an email demanding that she pay $42 in additional tariffs before delivery. She wasn’t sure what to think about the email. “We’re always being scammed these days,” she said. “And here is this email telling me that I need to click on this link and pay this money, wanting my credit card information. I didn’t know if it was real.” After studying and assessing it, she paid, and it was legit. But, yeah, that seem like process with a lot of scammy potential.

Our biggest political conversation related to the mysterious black bag being thrown out a White House window. Have you seen this video? Trump was asked about it and claimed the video was fake. He also said that the WH windows weigh 600 pounds and are sealed. He said that they can’t be raised. However, the WH issued a statement that said that throwing things out a WH window were cleaners doing business as usual. Sure, because they have decades of video showing things being thrown out WH windows.

Some proposed that Melania was tired of Trump and had some of his things put into a black garbage bag and thrown out as part of an argument about breaking up. My wife proposes that it was medical waste related to Trump’s absence act last week, and that they were taking it out via a different way to avoid detection. Well, that certainly didn’t work.

For my part, I’m angriest about Trump’s latest use of military force. Attacking a boat and killing everyone on board is a bad precedent. Trump isn’t the first POTUS to employ heavy-handed military power to make a statement. Gunboat diplomacy has been around a few hundred years. Administrations and the military have developed ‘more surgical’ weapons and methodology. That would be too subtle for TACO. He didn’t provide any evidence for his actions; nor did he ask for permission from Congress, etc. All that’s for those damn elites, and he’s not an elite, as he’ll eagerly remind you. He’s just white, male, wealthy, and powerful. He’s also a liar and a lightweight thinker with a propensity for embracing broken window fallacies.

Remember glam rock? Today’s music is “Turn Up the Radio” by Autograph. I was housecleaning yesterday, listening to classic rock via Alexa as I did. A favorite Boston song, “Foreplay/Long Time”, popped into the rotation. I ordered Alexa to turn up the volume. The Neurons jumped my brain with this song, of course. So here we are.

The family visit is due to commence shortly. Sis-in-law and her beau are in the area. I’ve fortified myself with some coffee. Hope peace and grace find and shelter you today and every day. Here we go again. Cheers

Wenzdaz Theme Music

Today is Wenzda, September 3, 2025. Keeping up with the pace set by the previous months, the days are whipping by. Some temp sources say it’s now 80 F or 77 F. My Oregon Scientific station declares that it’s 72 F under a brooding, sunless sky. Today’s upper edge will tap the mid 90s F.

Today is Visit Eve for us. Wife’s sister and her boyfriend arrive tomorrow for a three-day visit. We’ve dusted, vacuumed, swept, mopped, polished, and shined all we can. It’s in Fate’s hands now.

Strong winds woke me at 2 AM. I jumped up for a situation check and closed windows. When I opened a door to see what was going down, Papi bolted in past me, telling me with his feet and tail that he didn’t like the wind as he disappeared down the hall to his safe zone. That strong wind was warm, almost hot, completely void of the usual cool mountain breezes we know at night. It departed the area about an hour later. I found no damages this morning. Papi acted like he didn’t know what I was talking about when I mentioned it to him.

Yesterday was a day for visiting with family. Sis and I texted for an hour to get caught up on the happenings. Sis had a Labor Day cookout. Mom couldn’t attend because she was in too much pain. A second sister and several nieces and nephews were absent because ‘they have colds’. I hope it’s not more than colds. Mom’s 90th natal day is in October. A big do is planned. My wife and I are discussing going back for it. We’re in favor of doing so but my wife is unsure if she can handle a long aircraft flight. She’s in a lot of pain and discomfort these days, and is generally weak.

Dad called yesterday, too. We spoke for an hour on the phone. My stepbrother and his wife flew in, surprising Dad and his wife. Dad said they had a good visit. Beyond that, Dad just reminisced about his old military career. I just let him talk. It felt like that’s what he needed. He’s doing okay with his health, but must monitor his failing heart and kidneys.

Today’s song is “Messy” by Lola Young. Released in 2024, I like its stream-of-consciousness approach about herself and her relationship. The Neurons have it going in the morning mental music stream because they note that life under the Trump Regime is messy. He and they are the most combative, destructive, chaotic administration in my lifetime, which only goes back to 1956. Trump gives the finger to history and due process. Just last weekend, he was caught trying to illegally deport children. Children, unaccompanied by any adults. He and his henchmen thought they’d use Labor Day to ship these children out to Guatemala. Like WTF? Only evil shitheels in movies act like this. Beyond Trump’s outright evil, we can never tell where his greed and grifting will take us. We only know that it’ll take us further away from any norms in culture, class, democracy, and economics.

Here’s some “Messy” song lyrics.

You know I’m impatient
So why would you leave me waiting outside the station
When it was like minus four degrees? And I
I get what you’re saying
I just really don’t wanna hear it right now
Can you shut up for like once in your life?

Listen to me, I took your nice words of advice
About how you think I’m gonna die, lucky if I turned 33
Okay, so, yeah, I smoke like a chimney
I’m not skinny and I pull a Britney every other week
But cut me some slack
Who do you want me to be?

‘Cause I’m too messy
And then I’m just too damn clean
You told me, “Get a job,” then you ask where the hell I’ve been
And I’m too perfect ’til I open my big mouth
I want to be me
Is that not allowed?

And I’m too clever
And then I’m too stupid, dumb
You hate it when I cry unless it’s that time of the month
And I’m too perfect ’til I show you that I’m not
A thousand people I could be for you
And you hate the whole damn lot

Coffee has leaped in to save me once again. Hope that grace and peace hold you and yours through it all today and forever. Let’s rock this Wenzda. Cheers

Mundaz Theme Music

We’re now into the nineth leaf of 2025’s stay. Yes, today is Munda, September 1, 2025. Some label this, the Labor Day weekend, as summer’s end and fall’s start in the U.S. I don’t agree with that premise; summer’s weather remains. The trees aren’t dolling up in their fall colors, and so on. Summer continues despite the rise of artificially flavored pumpkin spice drinks and treats. It’s still summer here. 52 F last night, it’s now 71 F, on the way to another 92 F day under a blue sky hazy with something white. Could be smoke, might be some thin cloud layer.

So, just three more leaves remain in 2025, a leaf being a month. They will be tremendously important leaves in the United States, a confluence of rivers and trends. Lawsuits have piled up against Trump and his regime. Some of these will be resolved or head to the Roberts Court for judgement. Economists tell us that Trump’s chaotic tariff rollout will strike and it won’t be pretty. Time will tell. Trump is sending more troops into ‘blue’ cities over causes he’s created out of MAGA and QAnon myths and conspiracies. Now he’s arming them. His regime through Cosplay Barbie makes ridiculous declarations about Los Angeles ceasing to stand if Trump hadn’t sent in the guard.

Now, too, we have Trump’s health. He’s been a fleshy-looking, doughy, overweight individual with an odd gait for years. Has speaking style began slithering over words and ideas like a broken toy years ago, as well. As he, the GOP, and MAGALand lambasted President Biden for being old and frail, the portrayed Trump as super healthy and super smart. His physician declared that he thought Trump was the healthiest individual he’s ever seen, opining that it wouldn’t surprise him if Trump lives for 200 years.

Yeah, sure.

All fantasies come to an end. The wicked witch dies. So did Hitler. Stalin. Mussolini.

Today’s music is Der Neuron’s selection. They have Bruce Springsteen accompanied by the E Street Band. The song of choice is “Born in the U.S.A”. The song was released in 1984 to commercial success. For a while, it was a regular staple of rock and classic rock stations. I’ve not heard it on a radio in many leaves. I think it’s in the morning mental music stream because it focuses on spiritual bankruptcy and disillusionment. That seems like a theme sweeping the U.S.A. Disillusionment with the system, politics, name it, and you’ll probably encounter someone expressing some disillusionment.

The countdown continues to my sis-in-law’s visit. Sort of craters my heart, watching my wife. Working with low energy, dealing with pain and inflammation, she’s methodically cleaned and cleaned. I’ve helped but she’s done the lion’s share. It’s frustrating. She’s trying to live up to some standard conditioned in her to have an immaculate but charming home. But she’s paying for it with her own health and comfort. I see my mother do much the same. It’s all about appearances and impressions. Yet, my wife is coupled to me, who is sort of loosey-goosey about appearances and impressions. Yes, I’m jaded against putting up appearances to impress and amaze others. I make an effort on my wife’s behalf, however. I do it without saying anything about it, holding back my sighs, trying to support her in whatever she does. Of course, I have my own demons who ride me, and she supports me.

Oh, as an aside, the community came through with a shower chair for our hospice friend yesterday.

Alright, coffee has dug into my body once again, boosting me to new but temporary levels. May peace and grace find and shelter you as much as it can in this unfair world. Cheers

Sundaz Theme Music

It’s Sunda, so is a week ending or a week beginning? I’ve always considered Sunda as the week’s start. That’s what Mom taught me, and her mom taught her.

I’m sure it’s the end of August. It’s August 31, 2025. The year is half over. Summer in the northern hemes is leaning towards the finish line. Today is cooler again, with a night which Papi described as chilly but brisk at 58 F. Of course, he has fur. I think that makes a difference. On the high end, we’ll see 91 F today. Sunshine is holding forth in a blue sky where clouds have been dismissed for the moment.

An email has us trying to help another. A friend’s husband is beginning hospice at home. She’s looking for a shower chair and bedside commode. As it’s a holiday weekend, she has found many places are closed until Tuesday. Her need is more immediate. The bedside commode has been located; a friend’s mother died a few months ago, 104 years old, and he still has the commode. A shower chair is more elusive.

“Money Talks” by AC/DC is today’s music. Watching Trump’s open Offal Office grifting, coupled with a news article, about triggered this choice. The news article was out of the NYTimes. Its headline reads, In Budget Logs It Tried to Hide, White House Wrests More Control Over Spending. The article added, “Deep within obscure footnotes, the Trump administration is claiming more of Congress’s constitutional power of the purse by threatening to block funding.”

The article goes on:

In more than 100 cases this year, Office of Management and Budget officials who sign off on funds for federal agencies have attached unusual conditions to the money, including requirements that funds meant to reflect Congress’s priorities be spent only if they align with the president’s views. The moves lay the groundwork for the Trump administration to choke off billions of dollars budgeted by Congress for education, health, housing and research programs.

In some cases, the administration has clearly blocked funding for specific programs. In others, the threat lurks in footnotes tucked in detailed budget logs that congressional appropriators are racing to decipher as their conflict with the budget office grows.”

We always knew it was all about the money for Trump and his regime. They use their anti-woke, anti-diversity, anti-equality, anti-integration agenda as a club to beat agencies and organizations into capitulation. These agencies and organizations were legally granted funding from Congress in accordance with established precedence and procedure. Legality matters less to Trump and his minions than diversity, equality, and integration. Legality matters less than truth, facts, justice, and logic to them. It’s Trump’s way, or no way. And they get their way by withholding money. Doesn’t matter what was planned with that money, how it affects anything else. It’s just Trump’s way or no way, the total antithesis of the idea of We the People being in charge.

Anyway, that’s how “Money Talks” by AC/DC ended up in my morning mental music stream today.

I hope peace and grace finds and keeps you and yours safe and healthy. Let’s throw in some happiness, too. Coffee is wending through my body, perking me up once again. Onward and upward. Or something. Cheers

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