writing – Page 35 – Michael Seidel, writer

Lawdy, it was the skunkpocalypse last night. I don’t know what was going on but skunk stink bowled through the house like a Budweiser King Pin tournament at 4 AM. After shutting the only windows open and activating the air filter, I consulted an oracle. “Is this a bad omen for August?” I asked. “I can’t work in these conditions,” the oracle answered, tears streaming down their cheeks. I took that as a yes. At the least, it seems like a ‘maybe’.

Yeah, that’s how Frida, August 1, 2025 rolled in on us. But could’ve been worse, judging from all that goes on in the world. Especially in the era of MAGALand. I mean, I could have been shot and killed from police exercising a no-knock warrant at the wrong address. ICE could’ve pounced on me when I opened the door for fresh air and stolen my ID or disappeared me. Earthquakes, wildfires, tsunamis, flash-flooding, and tornados are all real threats at this time. So a heavy skunk attack is mild.

Today, it’s 72 F. Gonna get to 86 F. Thunder boomers thrashed the area for several hours. We even had a little wetletting from the sky, just enough to call it a sprinkle. No reports of rampant lightning strikes, knock wood. Porcupine Fire to the southeast is new but just an acre. A helicopter is doing bucket work on it.

With First Frida, we have the downtown Art Walk to entertain us and the First Frida Bike Ride. On a friend’s recommendation, we’re going to see a play, Disaster! It’s a comedy.

News reading drove The Neurons to invite Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers into the morning mental music stream. “Breakdown” from 1977 is looping through. Why not breakdown? Reading about the many aspects of U.S. life slowly breaking down is tres depressing. The Trump Regime is a seriously backward lot. Like, over under the Fox newsguy’s guidance, the Defense Department personnel have been instructed not to work with any think tanks. While it doesn’t make sense from a historic and intelligent point of view, it’s tots inline with the TACO Regime: they’re against thinking.

Under Trump, all signs point to not thinking as much as possible. Fer instance, don’t think about our history of slavery and civil rights. Don’t think about sexism and racism. Don’t think about climate change and increasing extreme weather disasters. Don’t think about due process, the Constitution, checks and balances, and historic precedence. Don’t think about Trump’s campaign promises and how he’s not delivered. Don’t think ’bout education and morality. Most def do not think about Epstein and Trump, and their secrets.

But it’s only the title, “Breakdown”, which works. The song itself, about a souring relationship, doesn’t apply. Oh, wait; I guess that can apply to Trump and his voters. Seem of them might be souring, according to polls. Really, too early. Takes a while for it all to gel and hit home.

Well, I can’t just sit here typing and reading and writing all day while drinking coffee. Things Must Be Done. Like, the car Must Be Put Into The Shop, because it’s systems are saying, it is time again. More yardwork and housework Must Be Done. More vacation planning is in order. Can’t have a good vacation without intensive dialogues about what Will Be Done and What Is Needed.

I hope peace and grace bless you this day. Cheers

Thirstda, July’s last day of 2025, greets us with clouds and sunshine. I’m off to a late blogging and writing start, delayed by a felt need to cut grass and weed before the sun and heat was too overpowering. Now it’s one PM, 84 F, with a ‘feels-like’ of 92, on the way to an 87F high. Light scattered rain is expected. I smelled petichor last night and went out looking for rain. While I heard what sounded like hungry stomachs rumbling among the dark clouds, rain successfully evaded me.

I’m already in the coffee shop. I noticed a sheet of paper on the counter. Handwritten, it was the inventory. That had me redoubling with chuckling. The writing, in black marker, was a combination of cursive and printing, which is my own style. Has been for years. It’s funny to me that this tech-driven computer age still features handwritten processes.

I like what a friend posted on FB yesterday:

Take your pick of weird Mother Earth events today in Oregon. Tsunami, red flag warning, lightning, thunderstorms, wind, fire, smoke. Hopefully it’s all pretty minor. Stay safe!

Jill Dennison featured a Foreigner tune on her blog. It’s the powerful rock ballad, “I Want To Know What Love Is”. The song moves many to tears and it’s not uncommon to witness folks singing along with it. I commented on the song selection, I mentioned that I enjoy Foreigner as a solid rock band. She asked me to suggest other Foreigner songs. I offered her “Dirty White Boy” and “Juke Box Hero”.

But was yesterday. Thinking themselves amusing, The Neurons slotted “That Was Yesterday” by Foreigner in my morning mental music stream. The 1985 song has a catchy chorus and is easy to mumble along to.

Working hard to undermine democracy and establish an authoritarian plutocracy, Texas is redrawing maps to exclude Democrats and their elected reps. Offering bankrupt ideas and languishing morals for most of this century, the bend to cheat results and steal power. My disgust is off the chart. We’ll see if Democrats and voters can turn back this effort. Fingers are crossed but between the heavy-handed Texas GOP and the swollen to the right SCOTUS, my hope is spider-web thin.

Peace and grace to you today. Hope both find you. On to other things. Cheers