We’re popping in on Saturday, August 17, 2024. Now remember, as a time-traveller, you won’t know anything about the future that you’re from while you’re on the selected travel date, but you will remember it all when you go back. Just want to ensure you understand the parameters.
It’s 66 F in Ashlandia, our destination for today, where the hills are brown and the beers are cold. Today’s high is said to be anywhere from 77 F to 84 F. Though clouds are sparse and small, they’re calling for rain this evening. Some say it’ll be heavy rain. There’s also an extreme fire warning out because thunderstorms with lightning are expected.
The air quality is good for now. No smells of smoke, no hazing of the sky. Super. Worrying that so many wildfires continue burning California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, etc.
Hurricane Ernesto is making landfall in Bermuda. Gonna be rainy with six to nine inches of rain predicted for them.
Of course Republicans are calling for probes of Gov. Walz’s China trips. The GOP are so laughably predictable and pathetic, screaming about tit for tat politics as a reason they shut down various measures to enforce ethics and then pursuing tit for tat actions. Funny how they didn’t give a shit about Gov. Walz’s trips until he became selected as Vice President Harris’s running mate. Yeah, they’re funny that way, especially Rep Comer, R-Jackass.
We’re switching themes today, going from dance to colors. That excited The Neurons. Lot of songs with colors in their titles. They immediately fired up “Black Velvet” performed by Alannah Myles from 1989 into the morning mental music stream (Trademark trending). It’s a blues ballad about a young Elvis Presley. Whatever the subject, The Neurons love Myles’s voice and style. Hope you enjoy it.
Be strong and remain positive. Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee has kicked in, so here’s the music. Cheers
Wednesday slides into place with a click. Snuggles up to August 14, 2024.
Cool summer morning. Hints of spring in that mountain air feel. It’s 62 F under smoke-free blues skies. Another less-than-hot day is expected, with a high of just 85 F. Comes with an asterisk: rain is forecasted for the evening, with thunderstorms. The thunderstorms aspect causes a thoughtful hitch to mental processes. Thunderstorms mean lightning. Lightning means fires. Fingers crossed, knock on wood, we won’t get hit. We’ve been fortunate so far this year.
I kept the windows open all day yesterday, along with the back blinds. It reached 83 F at our house outside, but inside was a comfy 78.
Weird, though, it smells like rain right now. I see that clouds have cantered in. Maybe they’re just getting an early start on setting up.
The housefloofs are digging on this chill weather. Sauntering into sunny places after breakfast, they assumed the grooming position. A jay karens over to tell them they’re grooming wrong. Those jays are such know-it-alls.
Just finished reading of Ernesto. It’s a Cat 1 hurricane now. Already been troubling Puerto Rico, which really doesn’t need it. Puerto Rico and a hurricane of course triggers images of then President Trump tosses out paper towels.
Paper towels are not really effective hurricane assistance. What are you going to do, Bounty up the flooding with ten zillion paper towels? Think of how many trash cans that would fill.
BTW, in a bizarre mental twist, calling the storm a ‘Cat 1’ has me imagining a huge cat swatting things around as the hurricane’s energy source. I think I need more coffee.
Shout it from the deep state’s secret location rooftops: inflation is below 3%. All those deeply concerned handwringers on the right whining about inflation should shut it now — if they’re aware. That’s the bigger problem: they’re not sharp about history, a little fuzzy on words and their meanings, and often stumble over what’s in and not in the Constitution. Of course, their news diet contributes. The right wing news feed will make you sick.
We got the dance theme continuing for today. The Neurons brought up a friend’s favorite. We were working together back when the musical Mamma Mia! hit the scene in 1999. She was sooo excited about it. I was sort of, meh, so I asked, why does it have her so up? Well, high school, the prom, “Dancing Queen” was the rage then.
Right then, our age differences were momentarily magnified. But hang on, I said; that came out in the seventies. Right, she agreed, but there had been some kind of revival of it when she was in high school. I’d not heard about that, but then, I’d been out the country in the military. Anyway, to belabor the point, The Neurons have “Dancing Queen” by Abba circulating in the morning mental music stream (Trademark bebopping).
Stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee is at hand, so here is the music. Cheers
We’ve crashed into another Sunday. It’s August 11, 2024. Jays are busy arguing outside. A whipperwill keeps some background song going. Distant car travel are reminders that others are out there and on the move.
60 F now, 92 F will be the high. It’s a comfy 74 in the house. Meanwhile, the air quality is in the moderate stage again, 82, but smoke discolors the blue sky mountain tableau. Thin smoky tendrils are slithering into the windows so I’ve shut ’em.
Not sure where our fire is from. Haven’t seen any recent models for wind and smoke. The Park fire still blazes away down in California, less than a hundred miles away. Started by a man rolling a car down a ravine, it’s closing on 400K acres of burned land.
Dozens of fires are burning in my state, Oregon. None are too close at this point. Fingers crossed and knock wood that that won’t change. Burning more than 459 square miles, the Durkee fire on the state’s eastern side along the Idaho border, is Oregon’s largest. Started by lightning, it ate through the hot, dry vegetation, killing cattle and wildlife and forcing evacuations. It’s 95 percent contained.
Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah) and Papi have entered a new state of floofproachment. First, Tucker was giving chase after Papi a few times. Then, as Tucker sailed past Papi, Papi sniffed Tucker’s nethers and tapped his tail. Next, Papi was sitting at the open door. Tucker, walking by to leave, paused and leaned his had Papi’s way. Papi politely tapped Papi on the head, signalling, move on, buddy. Then the two were seen touching noses in a classic flooformational exchange. This is only what we’ve witnessed but we’ve not found any signs of more intense encounters, so we’re assuming they’re moving closer to trusting one another and maybe getting along. It’s only been almost a decade. Time is sometimes needed for these things.
The dancing theme continues for the time being. Pausing to think of songs with dance in the title and songs about dancing, a scroll of titles are unrolled. The one The Neurons seized and plugged into the morning mental music stream (Trademark tapped), “And We Danced”, a 1985 song by The Hooters. Why that dance song, oh Neurons of Mine, I politely inquired. Have some coffee and think about it, they replied. I’m still sipping the coffee and thinking. I got nothing.
Stay positive, be strong, and lean forward. Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Cheers
News stories scan make me blanch. Yes, of course there are feel-good Olympic stories. News outlets thrive on those. They sell clicks and papers and increase viewership. People want to feel good about the world. They don’t want to read of a school bombed in Gaza City with nearly 100 killed. And they want to turn away from the Trumpstorm that is the 2024 GOP campaign. Weird describes their candidates and also describes some of the base, but what describes the rest?
Baby formula recalls, Venezuela, Elon Musk, X.
Here, we’re dealing with wildfires and smoke pollution. Wildfires are being fought not just all over Oregon but California, Wyoming, Washington, Idaho, Colorado…that’s just the tip.
This is Saturday, August 10, 2024. There are less than 90 days until the elections.
It’s 62 F. We’ll see our average and usual high today, 92 F. Good. The air is low moderate again, and I can see the mountains and blue skies today.
A dancing outing is planned for Lake of the Woods Resort. The air is checked. Not good. Discussions are engaged: should we still go?
Time to start a new theme week. The idea of going out dancing brought up a bunch of songs for The Neurons, so that’s this week’s theme: dancing. One of their favorites, now circulating the morning mental music stream (Trademark burning) is a 1983 fast-tempo beat by the Pointer Sisters called “Neutron Dance”. Point of order for The Neurons: this is not “Neuron Dance”. Yes, that is how they hear the lyrics, but that doesn’t change the truth.
Though coming out of the techno 1980s, it’s a song for the current era. Themes like homelessness — “The rent is due, I got no place to stay.” Weariness: “It’s hard to say just how some things never change and it’s hard to find any strength to draw the line.”
don’t wanna take it anymore I’ll just stay here locked behind the door Just no time to stop and get away ‘Cause I work so hard to make it every day
[Chorus] And it’s hard to say Just how some things never change And it’s hard to find Any strength to draw the line Oh, I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance (Ah, ah, ah) I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance
[Refrain] Whoo-ooh (Whoo-ooh) I’m on fire, yeah I’m on fire, yeah
[Chorus] And it’s hard to say Just how some things never change And it’s hard to find Any strength to draw the line Oh, I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance (Ah, ah, ah) I’m just burnin’ doin’ the neutron dance
Let’s all sing it and dance. h/t to Genius.com for the lyrics. Easier to copy than typing them all out.
Stay positive — I now, I’m one to speak — be strong, lean forward, and Vote Blue. Coffee and I have met up on a drink day. Here’s the video. Cheers
Day has broken, smoky and sunny in Ashlandia, where the temperatur is 69 F. The smoke isn’t ours; it’s from one of the many fires burning in California, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, or Canada. Or maybe somewhere else. Or all of them. While the election rushes on, the world turns, the heat increases, the planet dries, and catches fire. While the Olympics parade across our screens, typhoons, hurricanes, and storms take death and destruction to new levels. What isn’t on fire might be flooding, like down in Florida. Just take some time to check out the many ‘natural disasters’ that we’re either recovering from or enduring right now.
It’s Saturday, July 27, 2024. Too late to wake up. It’ll be 89 F in Ashlandia today, not too bad, so long as we don’t drive too far away.
Don’t know what was happening before the moment today when the jay flew in through the bedroom’s open sliding door. The bird landed on the stepping machine and let out a screech. Papi the ginger wonder bounded in after the bird, jumping up onto the bed and orienting to acquire the target. We have a vaulted ceiling in that room so the bird flew across first to the idle fan, perching on a blade, and then to an air vent embedded in the ceiling. Striped ginger tail wildly lashing, Papi leaped from bed to dresser, directly below the bird.
Meanwhile, I’d arisen and was addressing the bird, telling them that they need to get out. Closing doors to the bath and hall, I pushed the slider to its max. Taking the hint, the jay shot out. Papi shot out after it.
I looked out. It was a happy ending with the bird in a tree scolding Papi, and Papi returning to tell me good morning.
Well, with all these fires going on in the news and Trump’s campaign burning like a housefire as GOPers toss fuel on in, and Kamala Harris catching fire with voters and groups, The Neurons pulled up an old song about fire. Called “Sleep Now in the Fire”, the song is burning up my morning mental music stream (Trademark aflame). The 1999 song is about this little rock band called Rage Against the Machine. You tell me what it’s all about.
Be strong, stay positive, lean foreward and Vote Blue in 2024. Coffee and I are going at it. Here’s the music. Cheers
Today is Thursday, July 25, 2024. Still a little time to get your early Christmas shopping done.
It’s been a noisy morning in my Ashlandia. A parade of sounds. Garbage trucks banging on and roaring down the street. Motorcycles. Barking dogs, overhead jets, loud talking people. There may have been a marching band as well. Couldn’t tell for the noise. A jackhammer capped the performance.
Then Tucker (pronounced Tuck-ah), my black and white thick-furred floofhead, settled on my pillow above my head and vigorously groomed himself, sometimes leaning on my skull to prop himself up in his washing process. Hello!
Of course, the noise can all be explained in rational ways, especially when you set them against the situation. Iit’s a chill morning. Up to sixty now as the sun breaks over the mountains and trees overseeing my home site. Things must be done before the heat arrives. Also, the air quality is very breathable, better than it’s been in days. Better want to get things done before the air goes bad and the day heats up. And the passing jet could well have been a fire-fighting tanker. Not sure why the marching band was out there.
But come on, if this is what I have to complain about, the noise of life and a cat’s activity, I don’t have it bad at all. Massive fires still rage in all compass directions. Pity the animals and people chased out of their homes and habitats who face the task of rebuilding and finding new homes. And thanks to all those individuals at every level, tracking fires, managing and fighting them, and keeping us updated on what’s happening. Imagine what it would be like without them.
So WordPress has some AI magic to help me write better. It highlighted ‘may’ above, citing it as an ‘unconfident word’. The magic suggests I replace it with ‘been’, so the sentence would read, ‘There been a marching band as well.’ Yeah, that sounds more confident, although, perhaps, a little asinine as well.
Had a good time with friends sipping a few beers out in the shade and wind of a local brewery. Moderate turn out of ten. Progressives all, we were jazzed by the energy and optimism the Kamala Harris campaign is generating. We also noted the GOP’s lame and increasingly desperate attempts to undermine the Harris campaign. The GOP is running scared. Other than that, we discussed dark oxygen being generated at deep sea levels, along with airships, you know, derigibles. I think it was unanimous that we’d all like to experience traveling like that, as long as you’re not in a rush.
I’m chillin’ with a cuppa coffee in hand, and cool fresh air wafting in through the window behind me. The Neurons turn Frankie Goes to Hollywood loose in the morning mental music stream (Trademark televised) with “Relax” from 1983. That’s the theme song for the moment.
Stay positive and remain fresh and strong. I’m trying to do the same. Let’s Vote Blue in 2024, and bring the United States its first female in the White House as POTUS. Here’s the music. Cheers
Thursday, May 16, 2024, has landed on us. It’s mid-May, and we’re slipping, sliding, gliding toward mid-2024. Then we’ll slip, slide, glide to the 2024 elections and race into holiday season in America. I expect Black Friday advertising to kick in any day.
Though we’re doing a spring and summer shuffle, we have pleasant weather serenading us. The sun did a stirring dawn solo. Sunlight lasered in like an attack from Emperor Ming. Clouds spy from the horizons. It’s 67 now with 77 F on the way. Thunderstorms are also expected. What I found watching the weather on TV last night is that these small cells are populating the Pittsburgh metro area. Rain gets limited to those little doughnuts. In our part of the Churchill Valley, we blinked and missed the rain. Evidence was left behind as small drops on the brown wooden porch rails.
The Mom Help Quest continues. She’s moved the goals on us. We — my sisters and I — believe she needs help getting out of bed and dressing. Mom vehemently disagrees. Sure, it takes hours, and exhausts her, but that doesn’t mean she needs help.
No, she just wants a person to come in once a week to clean, especially the bathrooms. That’s all. And her beau backed her, so my sisters and I backed off. I’ve told Mom I think she’s wrong. Didn’t help any but I thought it important to state my position and get it on record.
My sisters are more frustrated about this than me. They point out that Mom tends to hold off action until things reach a crisis. Then an emergency is declared, and everyone is expected to drop everything an run to help Mom. They’re weary of the circus.
I understand Mom’s stand. This steady decline and shrinking of her independence affects her self-image. She’d like to stay in denial about what’s happening. Of course, she’ll deny that, as well. There’s also probably a piece about feeling like a burden and not wanting to be a burden to others. She doesn’t see with our eyes, and can’t or won’t grasp that by refusing greater help, she makes herself a greater burden.
That’s life in ‘Merica, I guess.
One piece of good news is that her doctor’s office has scheduled an appointment to discuss Mom’s request for a hospital bed. I’ve become leery of getting it after Mom said last night that she didn’t think it was going to make much difference. Told me she takes a sleeping pill and sleeps six to eight hours every night. But she spends the day complaining about how tired she is and how she wants to nap.
Other worries and concerns outside of familia permeate my circle of being, like damaging storms elsewhere, the Canadian wildfires, the Trump Trial for falsifying document, the held breath for what the SCOTUS will say about Trump’s immunity, what actions states are taking to sabotage voter rights, the other Trump trials, inflation concerns, climate change activities, and the upcoming 2024 election.
There’s also a new sideshow, the Trump-Biden debate. I think Trump is a fool for accepting but I’m delighted that he did. I think Trump has a sense that he’s losing his mojo so he wants to be front and center. I believe Trump is in more denial about his condition and situation than Mom.
This debate is a beauty pageant. Trump thinks he’ll win it by looking better than Biden — younger, even though he’s just three years behind President Biden — and more articulate and knowledgeable. Those of us outside of Trump’s MAGA influence watching Biden give speeches know that his gaffes are much less than Trump’s crazy talk. I believe President Biden will come off as much more impressive than Trump. Fingers crossed that this will come to be.
Okay, today’s music in the morning mental music stream (Trademark warming) is “Just Like Paradise” by Diamond Dave — David Lee Roth. The 1987 song was selected by Los Neurons by a combo of me thinking about returning home to Ashlandia, where the weather is hotter and the cats are sweet, and a mockery of the situation in America.
The latter — the mockery of America — is delivered by the GOP’s continuing efforts to destroy America by governing as little as possible, remaining as an obstacle to progress, and even tearing down things, such as DeJoy’s destruction of an efficient postal system.
Working on the ridiculous idea that more is better, Postmaster Louis Dejoy has led an effort to consolidate and reduce postal operations, especially in rural areas. He’s slashed trucks and personnel and closed operations. Places like southern Oregon, where I reside, has suffered with continuing mail delays. Our local post offices are shuttering or severely limited in offered services. Customer complaints have soared. Elected officials in Washington, D.C., on both sides of the aisle are demanding answers from DeJoy, and he’s often just blowing them off.
Well, here comes the darkening clouds. I’m already riding the coffee rain, so I’ll wish you a good Thursday and be off. Remember, stay positive, be strong, and Vote Blue in 2024. Here’s the music. Gotta admit, it’s tres Van Halen pop rock, even though it’s not Van Halen. Cheers
It’s a mixed tape day for me and my moods on Sunday, September 24, 2023. Our air has gotten worse in Ashlandia, where the day is somber and the streets are quiet. Awakening heavily congested, with a mild smoky odor in the air, I feel like I’m not far from a roaring fireplace where WH documents are being burned ala Mark Meadows. I crank on the air filter.
Being congested brought the usual interrogation in my head. What is the cause behind the congestion? Potential causes are wildfire smoke, cold, flu, COVID, asthma, other. I washed my nasal passages with a saline solution made for that purpose, blew my nose several times, and endured several sneezing bouts. That’s all ended. None was overly bad; the wonder about the cause is more of a problem.
The smoke is worse today. Although it’s still only ‘unhealthy’ by air quality standards, psychologically, we’ve moved into the deep ‘this sucks’ stage. It does seem to be thinning now; the mountains are looking less opaque and blue. Rain is expected today. It rained last night, though, and didn’t reduce the smoke. Time to mask up again.
Autumn is asserting control of the our regions weather. Smoke and clouds weaken the sun’s glory, rendering the sky a bland white mildewing with gray. Temperature is 63 F under ‘haze’. High temperature of 71 F has been put out there for us. A few trees are beginning to transition. Yellows and reds are streaking along a few branches.
I’m generally in favor of fall, or autumn as most of the world calls it. Lower temperatures and less smoke are associated with Ashlandia’s fall. Fall is also home to Thanksgiving, one of my favorite holidays due to the work Mom put into it when I was young and living with her. She prepared all the dishes, doing so with pride and diligence, delivering wonderful roasted turkey with all the works dinners.
Today’s music selection foisted on my by the neurons came out about thirty years ago. “Acquiesce” by Oasis is rattling around the morning mental music stream (Trademark screwed up). I think a dream inspired Der Neurons to play the song for me. The dream was a long, convoluted piece about being forceful but getting lost. One line of song lyrics is, “I don’t know how to wake the things that sleep inside.” I was instead thinking, what’s going on in me? Something feels like it’s been awakened. I can see how Les Neurons put all that together and came up with “Acquiesce”
Stay pos, be strong, and work it like you own it. I’ve had a few drams of black brew, and now I’m feeling fiesty. Here comes the music. Time to rock on. Cheers
It’s cool and blue in Ashlandia, where the nights are getting longer, and the people are looking inward. 60 F now on this Thursday, the seventh day of September, 2023 in the common era, but we will experience 81 F today. I’ll take that. No wildfire smoke. The fires are slowly being contained. Last week’s rain helped. That pressure — worrying about fires encroaching on your town, your home, and eating it until only blackened messes remained — has eased.
The cats approve of the weather change. Papi remains on his out-at-night schedule, but he’s now more likely to be visible in a resting space just outside one of the doors during the day. Tucker has decided he’s an elder statesfloof, who are beings who don’t worry about details about weather and seasons.
Watching Hurricane Lee’s progress today. Another destructive storm, it is missing Puerto Rico at this point, and looks like it might lick the Bahamas. Early days, yet, but it could avoid the US eastern coast except for some tide and surf impacts. Meanwhile, some of the US in the realms of the east and south continue to endure a record-setting heatwave as they cruise toward autumn. San Antonio has had 70 days over 100 F degrees. I remember when I lived there back in 1980, we were impressed that we had eleven straight days over 100. That’s nothing these days.
Also paying attention to conversations and lawsuits addressing whether Donald Trump can or should be on ballots, discussions about the potential government shutdown, and the continuing war in Ukraine. Also interesting news and data about abortion rates was found in the NYTimes. There was too much other matters — uplifting and depressing — to go on about without caffeine.
From out of the blue — or out of the gray, I guess — The Neurons are treating me to the 1970 song, “Ride Captain Ride” by the Blues Image in my morning mental music stream (Trademark revocable). I can speculate about this song’s place in my day’s thinking. Maybe it’s because I’m thinking of my youth and this 1970 song was part of the scene in my fourteenth year, when many things are happening to a boy’s mind, body, and soul. Or, it could be the sense of focus and promise the song offers to me. Who knows what The Neurons latched onto? I certainly don’t.
Stay pos, be strong, and eat well. Here’s the music — which, um, is an interesting video, a product of the times back then. Hope you enjoy it. Coffee time, one more time. Cheers
Thursday, August 24, 2023. Ashlandia, where the crows are busy and the cats are wistful.
It’s like a different day out there. Sunny, good visibility, 68 F, light mountain breezes. The change chased me to the fire map to check on the fires’ statuses. Were they all miraculously put out overnight? No. Seems, after looking at the air quality map to see what the air is like, that we’re the beneficiary of some southeasterly wind. I’ll take it. With the cleared air and a different front moving in, today’s high will kick the mid nineties.
Didn’t watch the GOP debate last night. Just didn’t feel it in my bones. So I’m playing catch up, reading reports about what I missed. Except for DeSantis to a small degree — he held back more than I expected — they presented the impressions and delivered the expected comments. Nothing in any of the accounts I read this morning made me want to rethink who these candidates were.
Instead, I found myself more drawn in by two murder cases. Both killers were young women. One — 28 y.o. — killed a vocal coach by shoving them to the pavement and walking away; the other — 19, 18 when she killed — took her car up to 100 MPH and steered the vehicle into a building, killing her two passengers. The first will spend eight years in jail; the second was sentenced to fifteen years to life, eligible for parole in 15 years. Why my interest? Well, why did they do these things? What were they thinking? Anger played a role in both killings, although smoking marijuana was part of both stories. Both seemed to surrender control and acted out; these are the results. Very human and tragic. They received a lot of print and coverage. Maybe I just missed coverage of the others, but I searched for other young women who killed, and easily found three of the same age range and time period in other states in the news. Odd how the press clamps onto certain matters. Odd, perhaps, how they attracted my attention.
The Neurons have stuffed “Texarkana” by R.E.M (1991) into the morning mental music stream (Trademark fickle). Apparently, this was out of a dream sequence. My wife was mimicking Mick Jagger in the dream and I told her, “Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall.” ‘Catch me if I fall’ is repeated in “Texarkana”. When I first listened to the album, I would like for “Catch Me If I Fall” as a song title. Texarkana? Whaaattt? Anyway, here we are.
Stay well, be strong and pos. My coffee-fueled day has begun; here we go. Let’s hear the music first. Cheers
Michael Seidel, writer 