Music Filled Summer

There are two influencers in my life at the moment who help me keep the Arts part of my life. Without them, I am sure my Arts world would be mostly online appreciation. As it is anyway, the Internet is my biggest source of any chance the Arts have to catch my attention. These two ladies get me involved in real time, up close in my face live and loud Arts in action.

An accounting client of my wife is a cog in the machine/supporter of the Ogunquit Playhouse over to ...... Yep, you guessed it, Ogunquit, Maine. The playhouse one of the oldest road playhouses used for summer off Broadway productions. In business every summer season since 1933. Thousands of up and coming stars, established stars, and talent looking to invigorate emerging careers have played there. 

For the most part, the music and plays favor the musicals from my parents era. In recent years, a change to include a more current treatment on plays and  musicals is beginning to dominate. I am impressed of the new versions of the old satndards of 60-70 years ago. BA's client has been kind enough to give us a chance to see quality live entertainment for th elast ten years at least.

been a soource over the last 10 years  free tickets to the shows. So, for 10 years I have been reintroduced to much of the entertainment my parents, through different avenues, exposed me to as a child. 

And then there my daughter; my kid; my best example of having been a good man at least some of the time. Lis is an energizer bunny. She usually juggles many interests, resposibilities, with a married life shared with a man both she and I approve of. Well, she may have approval than I do. But the Jarhead is okay I guess, even though he is an ex-Marine. 

One of Lis' big interests is music. Not the Top Forty Pop, Rock, or Country, but an eclectic variety of I dunno, Bluegrass, punk country, Old School Rock from back in my day, and music from all over the globe. Anyway, she keeps us apprised of live concerts in our mutual areas to possibly go to. Every year, I get to see musicians from my past, new musicians I never heard of before, and venues that either knock my socks off or just remind me of how bad some of the halls can be.

This coming Tuesday Paul Simon is playing a nice venue in New Hampshire; the NH Bank Pavilion in Gilford, New Hampshire. I have never seen Paul in concert or as part of the duo that brought Simon and Grfunkel fame back in the 1960s. I did haul the sound and light equipment for a tour his ex-partner, Art Garfunkel. It was a low key one truck tour. I loved the one truck tours. Laid back leisurely runs usually with plenty of time to make it from one venue to another. It was as close to a vacation I had the years I drove for SHOWCO in the mid 1970s.

In a couple of weeks we are also going to the "Jeezum Crow Festival" at Jay Peak in Vermont. What a great venue. Laid back, relaxed, low key fun in the Sun. This year, the two day event will have two stages and more bands than before. Like last year, the four of us are renting a Vrbo somewher close by. Last year we did and I won't go back again on a one day out back from Maine.

And just when I think the summer could not get any more crowded, Lis noted that Rustic Overtones is playing up in North Conway, NH coming in August I6, I think. 

Rustic Overtones is a Maine band that BA and I took Lis to for her very first concert. It was the early 1990s at the Portland Expo in Portland, Maine. It was Lis' first concert. She was 13 or 14. Since then I guess she has seen them over 20 times. BA and I have only seen them perform maybe 15 times.

Portland Expo has the worst accoustics of any hall I have ever been in. It is an echo chamber. Reverbation makes it tough to follow the songs. And even worse, it's festival seating. Once I hit my 60s, I refused to see a concert that did not have assigned seating or they allowed chairs to be brought in.

Damn, lots of music this summer .....Excellent.

Later ......................

_________________________

I was going to include some music from one of the groups that will be performing at the Jeezum Crow Festival. The I decided that playing a Charlie Parr tune was more fitting. He has been at the Festival I thin ksince its inception over a decade ago. And his music is great. I am not sure how to categorize his music, so I won't.

Please enjoy "Over the Red Cedar", by Charlie Parr.

Dwayne

HEADS UP- what follows is a silly piece of flash fiction I came up with. If it offends, so be it. It's a joke ferchrisakes. Calm down. Any relation to a current leader is purely coincidental........ Really.

_____________

When Dwayne was a child, he quickly established himself as the dim one of the brood. He was born with glazed over eyes that followed him throughout his life. Having been born and raised before the woke culture of Political Correctness took over from Simple Civility, Dwayne's parents were not very tolerant of his failure to launch as what they considered a normal child. His parents did love little Dwayne. He was cute in his dimness most days. Usually, they tolerated his lack of a clue regarding the world around him.

When Dwayne was around the age of 10, he approached his father, who was on his knees pulling weeds in their garden.

"Dad, whatja doing?"

Godfrey Machump looked at his son. For a moment he marveled at the “no one home look” that was always behind those blue eyes. Godfrey had long ago given up on Dwayne growing up to be anything but a dimwit. He smiled.

"Son, I'm pulling weeds in your mother's garden."

Mr. Machump returned to pulling weeds, thinking the conversation with his son was over. Dwayne never showed much curiosity and more often than not would nod or shrug and then move along.

"Can I help?"

Somewhat surprised, Godfrey looked at his son again. He was caught off guard.

"Uh, well I ...... Sure, why not?..... Here let me show you how?"

Dwayne did not hear or pay attention to his father. All he heard was, “Sure, why not?”

He immediately began yanking out any plant he could get his hands on. Weeds or garden plantings, it did not matter. Dwayne was an equal opportunity plant puller; and he had a gift it seemed. Before his father could corral him, Dwayne had yanked half of the onions and was well into the carrots before his father gathered him up and placed him roughly 15 feet away from the garden. Dad had a hair trigger temper, and without thinking,

"Christ on Crutch Dwayne, don’t be such a Dumb Ass."

That was the day Dwayne acquired the nickname that would follow him in one form or another the rest of his days. And though he actually acquired a few more IQ points along the way, he only became smart enough to know what people really thought of him.

He became determined to show them. He realized he was not one of those Savants that everyone talked about; idiot or otherwise. He could not juggle numbers well. He could not multitask at all. What he could do, was focus on one thing at a time, even if that focus was created from a poor understanding in the first place. To that end, his lifelong focal point was to make the world pay for calling him a Dumb Ass.

After his ascension to leader of Didushakurboutie, in the wilds of Africa, he often stood at one of his gilded palace windows and scanned his kingdom. Often, in these moments of self aggrandizing musings, he would repeat the mantra he created to defend himself from the harsh criticisms and teasing he had to tolerate as a child.

"I am not an Idiot Savant. I am a Dumb Ass Savant....... And one day I will rule the World."

(537 words )

__________________________

This little piece of fiction just fell out of my brain in 20 minutes. Whether it is good or bad does not matter. I again was able to write something without the hint of anguish or struggle. What's sad is I felt the need to place a warning at the beginning.

___________________________

A Facebook comment I made somewhere sometime in the recent past made a reference to Carly Simon's iconic song, "You're So Vain". I don't think I have ever used this tune to accompany one of my posts. So here it is, the song that was as great as it was mysterious. For years people tried to figure out who she was singing about. There have been many guesses, both good and bad. At age 77, James Taylor admitted the song was about him, thus creating a nationwide of "I told you so's" across the planet.

 Regardless, please enjoy one of the great pop tunes of the 1970s.

From the Mouths of Caddies .......

From the mouth of a caddy, the legend of Trump in Donald's own mind is justified and reinforced while Donnie and Gary Player were between golf holes recently. Gary's caddy and mock historian approached Trump with his opinion regarding just how awesome Trump was and his place in the history books.

The Donald liked the slip shod conclusions of the Caddy so much, he asked the caddy to forward his essay to the White House.

Once in the White House and Donald had time to focus at least one good eye on it, the historically hysterical comedy the caddy wrote quickly became a defintive essay from a notable historian or so it was claimed by Mob Boss Don and his ever so incompetent administration. 

I heard this story watching an interview with two reporters who have written Regime Change - Inside the Imperial Presidency of Donald Trump. It is the latest book about all things Trump. Maggie Haberman and Jonathan Swan sat down with Mika and Coffee Man Joe this morning on MS Now. This book is so recent, that today, 6/23/2026, is the official releaase date.

The two authors are reporters with credentials from years in the News business. They spent the last year investigating along with thousands of interviews to come up with a book that will hopefully hold my attention until I find the last page. I just ordered it from Thriftbooks.

The story of the caddy came right out of Trump's mouth when they interviewed him. Apparently the caddy contended in his hysterical historical piece that Donald Trump was the most powerful leader the World has ever known. No leader before him comes close. Not Alexander the Great, not Caesar, not William the Conqueror, not Napolean, and certainly not Hitler, Stalin or Mao. 

He bases his poorly contrived conclusion on the fact that all the others were just local yokels who did not have the "reach" Donald has; what with the awesome destructive power at his command and the Internet at his fingertips. No leader before him has had that.

I am guessing the Donald considered this latest idolatry as just another confirmation he owns the planet, his will be done. At least in his mind this is the Reality he has built over years and years of deluding himself.

I have not read the book yet or this caddy's conclusions and if he has anything more than "Reach" to justify the conclusion I do know. All I have at the moment is the interview with the authors this morning on MS NOW and the prejudiced from experience that anything Trumps believes or claims is probably Bullshit.

One thing is abundantly clear, the caddy seems to be a classic MAGA sycophant and a lazy historical researcher to boot. The leaders he compares Trump to may not have had the worldwide "reach" Donald has; but in the times they existed, they had more impact on their world than the pitiful clown who now squats in the White House.

I should be used to it after over a decade of Trump nonsense. I am again baffled by how any president of the United States would love being compared to Hitler, Stalin, Mao or any other tyrant from our past. Yet, Trump has more than once stated his admiration for the worst assholes on the planet, past or present.

Of course, we are not rid of Donald yet. Definitive histories have yet to be written. The next few generations will decide where in the hysterical record, Trumplestilt Dum will reside. 

If the movement he created gains power after he is dead, we could be looking at the beginning of the end of America as we know it. Of course, hysterics now when contemplating future upheval and chaos we are witnessing daily now, is definitely not helping the doomsday frame of minds Trump has created. It's a daily struggle to remain calm in the face of so much evil stupidity.

TDS exists.......  Maybe more of us should be suffering from it. History is chock full of dumbass citizens who got what they deserved because they did not pay attention. As my favorite high school teacher wrote in my yearbook in the spring of 1969:

These are Critical Times. Degeneration is around the corner.

Watch !

Keep it 'tween the ditches ...................................

_________________________

How to pick music after pumping up my anger so much is often a real struggle. Many times, even a toke or two does not help. Let's see if a pull on the pot pipe will this time. ............. Hmm. So far .... No it hasn't.

It didn't take as long as I expected. I remembered a song recorded by Tracy Chapman on her 2005 album "Where You Live". I may have used this song on previous posts in the past. It certainly is worth repeating.

Please enjoy "America" and the video Dwane Chandler created to go with it.

Rule lX

Purposely complicated, many people contend Congress is a governing body that hides behind thousands of rules in order to create stumbling blocks to the effective and timely operation of our government. Of course there are those folks who advocate the slower, more complicated route because decisions at this level should never be knee jerk reactions to the worst impulses of an unpredictable citizenry.

Regardless, the complications at the congressional level sets the tone for the rest of government. This creates a need for the bloated bureaucracies who handle the red tape trail that follows every law as it transforms from the ideas of politicians into the final implementations of the laws passed. The process often seems to take forever.

The Senate, with it's more scholary and measured reputation, acts as if rules of decorum are more important than rules of engagement. They are not supposed to lower themselves to the level of street fights that transpire day in, day out in the low rent district we call the House of Representatives. Senators carry themselves above the frays of the simple men and women citizens, only passing judgement after their single wide cousins in the House have ferreted out a rough solution to the latest national problem to come down the pike.The Senate is the branch that polishes the turds the House comes up with.

The built in braking system in most cases seems to be a good thing on the surface. When the engine performs slowly as planned,  time to understand some ramifications down the road before they actually are instituted may result. If the system becomes weaponized in a lopsided favor of one political group's interests over another, everything can go to Hell in a handbasket very quickly. Our current clusterfuck of incompetent governing is the perfect example of a system that is failing due to extreme abuses of one side over the other.

Enter "Rule lX" of the House of Representatives.

This poorly understood rule in the House of Representatives is currently all the rage among the Liberals, Progressives, and other butthurt Left Wingers who sit in the cheap seats passing judgement on the actions of their representatives. Our total frustration at living under an administration who uses the Constitution for toilet paper, some of us will grasp any straw that might help to keep the worst president in US history from turning us into the largest banana republic in the World. Believe me, it is not a leap to conclude that that is where we are headed.

"Rule lX" in the House and the similar set of procedural rules in the Senate, "Senate XlX" both address issues of privilege. That is, they seem to be designed to support certain codes of behavior with punitive action when those codes are not followed. They are designed to inhibit any elected official, president included, from overstepping their limits of power. In relation to the President, any representive can ask for an impeachment vote under Rule 9 at any time. 

It is not that simple.They can call for an up or down vote, but it has to meet some requirements of validity to be moved forward by the Speaker of the House. At this point and in most cases, all that happens is just another of those frustrating roadblocks to smooth legislation. Often condemmed as partisan temper tantrums, using Rule lX is nothing but a waste of time. It should not be used as the knee jerk response that it is. The next time Trump is impeached, the Democrats need to have all their ducks in a row first or focus on other ways to make him pay for his malfeasance.

I think what the Left should be doing at the moment is concentrating on removing the President's power through the vote. All their efforts should be aimed at installing as many Democrats in Congress as they can muster. Win the election and then unleash the dogs and cripple the President with endless bills to overturn the worst of his criminality. Then turn off the money spigot with as much retroactive legislation as they can. Trump is already reeling and on his heels now. 

I'm with James Carville, my favorite liberal badass. Take Congress back from the spineless GOP in November, and I feel that may be the end of the orange shit stain as a political force. Of course, who knows what sleaziness will turn up as the country turns out to vote in November? 

We often hear the quote, "May you live in interesting times". It is an expression that has consistently been misunderstood by so many. The wrong application of the real meaning has supplanted the original intent. "May you live in interesting times" is not like "May you live happy ever after". It is a condemnation of sorts, a jinx, a call for your life to be one lived in the middle of chaos and upheaval. So, I never use it any more. I have switched to:

"May you live in uninteresting times."

At the moment the planet could use that kind of relief from the too many interesting times that are currently suffocating us.

Later .....................

________________________

Not all music I like is beautiful, compelling, timely, or classy. A twisted side of my pleasure center loves abnoxious music. I like that the musical arena encompasses tunes about everything under the Sun. I certainly do not like it all: I have lines I won't cross. But those lines are often fuzzy and pretty far away.

I have been looking for this song since it was a hit for a second or two back in 1999. I used to call it "The Discovery Song". Its name is actually "The Bad Touch" by the Blood Hound Gang. A song of no redeeming quality, no musicality of note, and certainly does not pretend to raise anyone's awareness of the issues of the day. It's a song thought up and performed by young men with 8th grade mindsets. I love it. It always makes me smile.

Just to add some interest where none should exist, Peter Dinklage of "Game of Thrones" fame has a cameo in the video.

It is maybe the most obnoxious song from the 1990's....... At least has to be the most obnoxious tune I can think of. The video only heaps on more obnoxiousness.

Un-American Activities

In American Politics, both sides of the political aisle use terms like “Un-American” and its fraternal twin, “Un-Patriotic” to label their opponents when the rhetoric heats up past civil debate. The Left is often willing to use this desperate labeling when it suits them. For the Right though, these two labels are more often than not, a first strike strategy.

Both terms are meant to shame someone for what they are doing at the citizenship level. Both terms are empty accusations that, rather than create open dialog, often shuts it down, turning that back and forth into an insult fest. No one wins. Nothing of worth is often the result. People have just wasted time flapping their gums.

What does “Un-American” actually mean? Is there even a definition that can identify for us, when an activity has crossed over the line from suitable American behavior into the “Un” side of American behavior? Both sides often fall into the same trap by labelling opposing views of the same behavior as acceptable or unacceptable. Who is right and who is wrong?  And does it even make sense or more importantly, is it ever really successful? The terms are so over used and abused, they effect little movement from one side or the other.

The two terms are nothing but stand-ins when a conversation or declaration is made by someone who has nothing of real worth to say but still wants to stir their pot and look good for their target audience of sycophants and slack jawed minions. As soon as I hear or read the term, “Un-American”, my eyes glaze over and I move on.

The United States of America has finally accrued enough years under its belt to claim some staying power in the collection of countries that have thousands of years stashed in their historical records. For so long, America was laughed at because we were nothing but infants strutting around with puffed up chests. We were brash. We were ruthless in our pursuit of the American Ideal of the time. Our melted pot population brought a unique world view the planet had never seen. We were the future.

Over time, the lofty ideals set down in our founding documents, the Declaration of Independence and the US Constitution, were pushed aside, re-calibrated, and often ignored in order to attain the lofty goals needed to become a world power that would be respected and yes, even feared on the world stage. America became the most powerful country on the planet through a mixture of altruistic endeavors combined with ruthless exploitation of the countries we shared this rock with.

So when someone uses a term like “Un-American” or “Un- Patriotic”, I tend to laugh. I know that no behavior, good or bad, is Un-American. We have proven it is American to be nice and be an asshole at the same time. We need to stop glorifying our worst behaviors and settle in as just another member of the coalition of countries who are just trying to get through their days. Our time at the top of the heap should end. We do not deserve to hold on to that position any longer.

Our country is on the down swing. Our worse tendencies as a nation are accelerating our fall. Will the fall be harsh and total? Or will we find a way to land softly and stop carrying that big stick we are so proud of.

We can and hopefully will still become the country we want to be. It will take presenting ourselves in a better light and not as a country whose only focus is exploiting everyone on the planet. We need to get over ourselves; find some humility and allow other countries their their time in the limelight.

In the meantime, stop using phrases and words that do nothing but fire up the conversations.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ..........................

__________________

There is no better anthem for Americans to cherish than "America the Beautiful". The song champions only the best we hope to strive for. No mention of war, death and exploitative adventurism like the current anthem someone decided was how we should represent ourselves to the World. We need to stop strutting.

Here is my favorite cover by Ray Charles. Hope it gives someone shivers. It works on me every time.

Baskets

This stained glass portraiture was purchased during the early days of our marriage. It is without a doubt, my favorite art piece in the house. We purchased it at a craft fair in the1980s. My wife was a basketmaker then. She went to countless craft fairs. I went to many with her.

Our family economy then was a week to week existence. I drove trucks. BA made baskets. As I look back now, that period of my life was as good as it ever had been. Domestic life suited me. Constant concerns over money though, definitely created a hitch in the life fulfilling appreciation of the time. Money was tight. Thankfully we depended on my wife's bookkeeping skills to keep us straight. I was okay handling money. She was and still is a genius.

It was my habit to wander around the crafts booths to check out the various offerings; what other basket makers were there, etc. etc. I spotted this portrait and immediately wanted it. I do not remember the asking price. I do know though, the asking price made my butt pucker. If memory serves here today, I entusiastically petitioned BA to let us take it home. I said it was so special, she needed to take a break from her booth and check it out before someone else bought it. I volunteered to watch her booth; something I was not a fan of doing. We ended up taking it home with us. It has been hanging in our front living room window the last 40 or so years. If you look closely, you might notice the mullions behind the piece.

I like to take credit for finding this portrait. It may or may not be true. Siince I am writing this story, I will make me the hero. All of us, or least some of us,; well maybe it's just me ..... okay, okay . A few of us at least have in us, traits that Trump has in spades. Hell, someone has to support our egos and it should start with ourselves. Of course Trump's exaggerated dependence on the figments in his own mind are the ultimate extreme of a militarized Ego. My case of it is certainly more in the normal range I am sure......  Oops ....wandering off the trail again. 

I notice now, I titled this post "Baskets". Not sure why I did. The image of the lady at the top was what triggered me to sit and write. I had just removed a screensaver image and replaced it with this image. Thnking of this portrait took me to thinking of the 12 years my wife spent weaving baskets and ruining her hands. Next, I thought of the craft fair culture that was ingained in our lives at that time. Memories often come back to me indirectly rather than by specific intent. In order to continue to fool myself I am indeed normal, I will assume this tendency falls with normal parameters of human behavior.

I wandered around the house looking for some of the baskets my wife had made. I found three that were still performing the duties they were woven for; holding junk that should have been somewhere more appropriate. I pulled out bits and pieces of 40 years of accumulations. They were dusty and the color was faded on the one. One is a hurried basket she made over 40 years ago for the cats to lay in. It is still functional. It still holds the occasional cat.

The other two were bread and butter baskets. BA made many of them. I am guessing she could make them in her sleep. In retrospect, the price BA paid for those 12 years of manual labor was higher than it should have been. Carpal Tunnel Syndrome and artritus as she aged damaged her hands and wrists horrenduously. Becoming an accountant was the smart shift in careers.

I am so thankful for BA allowing me to share her life. She has definitely been the rock upon which our relationship started and been able to last these past 45 years. ....... 45 years; Damn. Thats a huge chunk of my life. I wouldn't change it for anything.

Keep it 'tween the Ditches ............................

____________________

I picked "Basket Case", recorded and released in 1994 by Green Day. My wife was still weaving baskets. Every time I played or listened to it, I thought of her. I still do.

Here is a live version they performed at their induction to the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame in 2015.

The Universe Exists Without Our Permission

I caught part of an interview with the man who replaced Carl Sagan as our in house expert of all things Universe related. Neil deGrasse Tyson is not Carl Sagan. Though he has had a huge astromony star's footsteps to follow, Neil has created his own niche and character in the public eye. He did not attempt to emulate Carl's often wry humor. He created his own brand and it works. I loved Carl. I love Neil now also. Both men tell us the truths of science in ways we can often apply to our real world concerns. 

They point out relevance in a Universe we have no real understanding of. We just know there is more to existence than what we experience as we wiggle our way from the cradle to the grave. First Carl, and now Neil offer up reasonable and logical explanations for why the Universe does what it does. They offer a tangible alternative to the mythical existence Humanity has relied on for the previous thousands and thousands of years.

Neil wants to lead us from the darkness and into the light. He has no other agenda or axe to grind. He is more than willing to include faith based beliefs into his equations. There is room for everyone in his Universe. Organized religion on the other hand, considers Neil deGrasse Tyson and Carl Sagan before him, as enemies who threaten their irrational grip on Humanity. Organized religion, at its core, is intolerant of any percieved disrespect or challenge to their embedded in stone core beliefs. 

Back to the interview On "Clock It",with Simone and Eugene on MS Now. 

I only caught the snippet of the interview relating to facts about our planet. Neil started by explaining that most folks consider the planet a round planet; a perfect sphere. For the most part, it is indeed round. I am guessing from Planet X-Tar, 2 million light years away, it does show up as a round planet.

Earth is not truly round, it is pear shped. I knew this, having learned it from World Book back when I was in grade school and would sit down with an encyclopedia and read it for hours. Neil then filled in a couple of facts I did not know. Our planet does not acually orbit the Sun. Earth and the Moon form a gravity centric orbit called a "barycenter". This mutual gravitational association of Earth and the Moon is what orbits the Sun. 

Our planet bobs up and down as it passes through the Mily Way. And because I only caught a brief part of his interview, he informed me that because our planet is not a perfect sphere and is blessed with a tipped axis, it wobbles its way through space. 

Neil finished with this paraphased notion:

The Universe does not concern itself with what we think of it.

It exists without our permission.

I pondered his last thought. Again I was reminded just how insignificant Humanity is in the really Big Picture. We are not even a speck of dust on the head of a pin in relation to the Universe. We need to get over ourselves and face this fact. Falsely attributing our ego centric existence to some powerful being who has placed us on some eccleiastical pedastal and who is always concerned about what we do is just allowing the worst of our thinkers control us. Philosophy is fine for academic discussions among the longhaired intelligentsia, but it never should be used to rule us in the real world.

That's my Sunday Sermon this Sunday ........................

___________________________

First, before I post some music. Here is a snippet of Niel deGrasse Tyson opining with a brutal, in our face statement of America's current state of national stupidity.

"Wake the Fuck Up"

Now to the music.

I picked "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" by Cyndi Lauper for two reasons. I have always liked the song. More importantly, it represents to me the general attitude of America. We are so self absorbed in our own lives and fulfilling them , we miss the obvious results. Thinking only of ourselves without a thought of the consequences to anyone else can have tragic blowback. Just look at the state of America at this moment.

I don't consider the song as condemning women and their flights of fancy. I look at the tune in an asexual way. The Boys, well the boys might just be the worst of the two in their willfull ignorance of anyone outside their orbit. Regardless, as Neil deGrasse Tyson said, America needs to "Wake the Fuck Up."

Unappreciated

 Some people contend:

"You never truly appreciate anything until it is gone"

I have had this truth shoved in my face many times over the last 74 years. You might think I would get used to it. You might consider I would not be so surprised every time it popped up. Now, many years later, I am appreciating the fact that I allowed so many constants in my life go unappreciated.

Nothing lasts except Assholes and the infinite ways they bring assholery into my life. I include those moments of my own assholery of course, because , well, I am not Donald Trump whose infallibilty in all things pertaining to everything in the Universe is beyond Truth, Justice and the American way. Hail to the Head Honcho, the Man, the Grifter in Chief. 

He is leading us down the path we chose for ourselves. Through a combination of willfull admission and willfull omission over the last forty years, America finally has found what it was looking for, what it was headed for, what it deserves.

There's still time to fight back. Being smarter with your vote this next time would be a good start.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ...................................

____________________

The tune today, I found by typing "Song about Don". The track below is what popped up first in line. I tasted it and then finished it. Perfect song. Throughout it, the visuals made me think of Trump and the possible reality he lives with in his mind. Glitzy sets, Luscious Bimbos of the exotic kind while our stud hero is dashing smoothly throughout the video and wowing all the girls. He knows he is cool. 

If Trump has a hero, this must be the guy.

I actually like this tune. Well produced, slick, everything is perfect in this Bollywood Classic. The subtitles help immensely😏. I defy anyone to not tap their feet at some point in this song. 

Opthoneurorectitus

 It has become much easier and more predictable of me to have a chronic case of Opthoneurorectitis. For those you who have never heard of the condition:

Opthoneurorectitus is an inflamation of a nerve that runs from the eyeballs to the asshole; resulting in a shitty outlook on Life

Come on now, there is not really much in the news lately that lifts smiles and doesn't create frowns. The news offerings from the multitude of media machines around the the world seem focused on bad news first, any other news is accidental and comes in a very very distant second place.. It has always been the tendency of the many news outlets to concentratie on the sensational. Sensational and bad together can turn into a long term focal point of negativity. In a nutshell, that is what Trump's existence in our reality has done.

When it comes to what might be good turn of events under his leadership, well, I cannot see one major policy, executive order, or Royal dictate that ended up a plus for America. The only good that happens now is when Trump fails.

I long ago stopped even wondering and or hoping Trump would change his narcisstic criminal ways. I know longer want to debate anyone over the various failures of character Donald has used to enhance his position personally. He has never cared one iota about this country. His only concern is much more mercenary and self enriching for him. The whole world to him is a landscape populated by chumps just waiting for him to pick their pockets or any other resource he thinks that might make his pockets bulge or self image balloon in his own mind. I cannot think of any leader in history who has created a bigger legend in his own mind than Donald Trump.

With such an amoral scumbag like Trump having the world by the shorthairs, I think it's understandable to take on an opthoneurorectal view of the world around me. Tump works hard to create a shitty existence for those around him. He will literally throw anyone, loyalists and enemies alike under the first bus he finds when one of them displeases him. He demands loyalty, but fails to reciprocate in kind.There are absolutely no redeeming qualities in this swamp dwelling scum sucker of a President.

Hmm ............... I thought I would feel better firing off a rant of one kind or another. I was hoping to purge some of the recent Trump Stupidity pressure. Didn't work. .... Well maybe, just a tad.

Later Gators .....................................

________________

I have been busy multi-tasking. I forgot to even think about music until I typed the word on the screen.

The song I have today, "White Freightliner Blues" has always been a favorite song. I spent a lot of miles in a White Freightliner. The one on the left was my first one. I drove two other ones. Dependable and fast enough to get the job done. 

If we were on a Crunch Time run, we'd often use visegrips to pinch off the fuel return lines. That forced more diesel fuel through the injectors. I could squeeze out on the flat, another 10 to 15 MPH out of that 290 Cummins. The only faster way was Okie Overdrive on the steepest and longest hill in the area. I only did that once. Once was more than enough.

It was a bit tricky getting that visegrip to have the right amount of squeeze. Too little and it was a useless exercise. Too much and damage to the injectors and other parts could result. The best way to hook it up was at night so I could monitor the glow of the exhaust as it came out of the stacks at a high RPM. A nice warm red glow not too high was perfect.

"White Freightliner Blues" was first recorded by Townes Van Zandt in 1973. It has been a favorite country song to cover by many bands. Please enjoy this collaboration cover by Molly Tuttle and Tommy Emmanuel. Awesome guitars. Both of them can really pick.

Just to juxtapose some, here is the original tune as recorded by Townes Van Zandt in 1973:

The Oyster Farmer

Well, another good moment for Maine Democrats yesterday. Graham Platner won the Democrat  Maine State Primary. He will face off against Susan Collins, the useless GOP hack who is always"concerned", but stills votes with her party 96 % of the time. Susan is a Party First Gal like most of the Republican lawmakers.

The National GOP leaders have poured millions of dollars into the Senate campaign here trying to defeat Graham Platner. They are nervous. Graham is a different kind of candidate. Even with the specious rumors and claims of salacious behavior on his part, The state Democrats threw their support behind Graham.

Graham Platner is a 4 Tour Army Vet turned Oyster Farmer who won yesterday's primary with a resounding 74% of the vote. Our term limited governor, Jamet Mills was 2nd with around 19%.

Maine voters showed they will not be swayed by Right Wing assholes from away who think they know us. From my experience as a long time citizen of Maine, Mainers treasure real, in your face dialogs, not bullshit or lies. Graham is one of those Mainers. He is blunt. in your face; yet willing to admit his mistakes in his past. 

This morning Graham was interviewed on MS-Now's, "Morning Joe". Yes, Morning Joe tends to favor anyone but the Trump and the GOP, but they do operate with an eye to being fair. The interview was not like the sickening boot licking interviews of the Right's incompetent leadership on Fox Spews or OAN. Joe and Mika did not step around the baggage from Graham's past. Platner was frank and open I thought. He is carrying on without shame. ......... He continues to be forthright and open as any of us would be when baring our inner selves. I took from the interview, that Graham held his own and answered their questions candidly and did not do the tap dance of denials or shifting blame. Here is the complete interview :

Graham has refused to allow anyone to take him out with Bullshit. He is not a political machine robot. I like that.  .......... I just took a moment and tossed $100 bucks into Graham Platner's campaign. 

Gotta run .........................................

___________________________

Just because I have to go, I picked a song I have thought about recently. It's a favorite. Here is "Mr Funnyface", by Sprung Monkey. Enjoy.

They're Back

I am cursed or blessed, depending on which kind of dream I remember after waking up. Usually dreams run their course and any recall while awake is unavailable. On a semi-regular basis though, I often remember enough of a dream to wake laughing, sad, or pissed; especially pissed when it is one of my recurring dreams.

Many years ago when I was young and numb, I had a dream about a family; a very dysfunctional family. Run by a single mother, a deranged daughter and a wacky son created who spread havoc, outrageous chaos and destruction, anywhere they went, with anywthing they touched. They swept in, wreaked their stirred the pot and departed without so much as a, "Sorry for fucking up your sleep" apology.

The dreams were never quite nightmares, but they were seldom pleasant either. The crew always brought with them levels of chaos that overwhelmed my ability to fight the dream. I have learned to ride it out, hoping I will wake up sooner than later. 

Last night or rather at dark thirty in the morning, the crazy family decided to visit again. I was forced to pry my eyes open long before I wanted to, just to escape the relentless madness I was dealing with. Again, their visit was not nightmarish, just Crazy Shit Squared.

I woke up reaching for the small notebook I try to keep handy for moments like this. Before I had put my glasses on, I was writing in this notebook through the haze of just waking up, while at the same time, trying to focus nearsighted eyes. I tried to scrawl legibly in that notebook all that I could remember at that moment. I have learned that when I have a bizarre dream, if I want to remember it, writing it down as soon as I wake up is often key.

Opening Scene

I am in the bathroom having an embarrassing lower GI moment on the toilet. I hear the bathroom door open and Crazy Mom bursts in. She begins yelling at me that I had promised to help and her maniac kids find some pot to buy. She is so absorbed in busting my chops, it takes some time for her to notice the painful expression on my face and that I am doubled over sitting on the crapper. Through clenched teeth, I scream at her to get out.

Scene Change

I leave the bathroom to find Crazy Mom and her family have ransacked every room in my house/ apartment. (I am not sure what it was. It certainly was not my house here on Sam Page Road.) Her insane daughter grabs me by one hand, her wacked brother grabs my other hand. I am dragged to a car outside. It is an old yellow convertible with a bench front seat. It is adorned with big 1950s fins, but I cannot make out the model. Crazy Mom is waiting behind the wheel. Suddenly, a new character appears. It's Crazy Mom's new boy friend who pushes her over. He slides in and takes the wheel.

He says something like, "We'll find the pot faster if I drive."

Meanwhile the wacked brother is yammering and bending my ear about something I cannot remember now. We drive and drive........ and drive some more. Odd moments of passing scenery fly by. Snippets and flashes of critters that are flying, but are not normally known for that ability. Buildings fly by, misshapen and moving like some early 1950s cartoon in time to a tune I don't recognize.

Finally, the car stops and the boyfriend gets out. He tips the front seat forward to let me out.

"You know, we really know what's good for you?"

"You do?"

"Yeah, we do.......... We're gonna leave you here so you can figure it out."

The last thing in my dream is me watching them drive away in what I suspect now, was my car.

< ~ >

Maybe a dream like that wouldn't bother most folks. It irritated the shit out of me. Every second the dream lasted I was in full irritation mode and knowing it was a dream, yet unable to overcome it and wake up. The upside is I did remember enough to write the high points down.

Not sure if this post is of any worth to even me. At least I had a plan before I began to write.

Have a great Sunday ..................................

__________________________

I considered only one song for this post. This syrupy, lost in love ballad has had a lasting impact; much bigger impact than I would have thought. It was one of those songs that could burrow itself into your brain, creating a forever memory whenever you even caught a few bars on the radio. Right now, as I type this, I am hearing it with the sound turned off. Maybe it was not such a good idea to pick, "All I Have to do is Dream", by The Everly Brothers. I did find a couple of cool nuggets when I searched for the release date. The 1958 song was recorded in two takes. Chet Atkins, maybe the best guitarist of the1950s, played on the song.

Repeat after me:

Dreamm, Dream, Dream... Dream Dream Dream, Dreammmm.

The Moron in Chief

How long did it take me to realize Donald Trump was a clown when he first crossed my radar? And when did I realize he was a very dangerous and evil clown?

My first indication of his clown act was probably when I saw him on "60 Minutes" back in the mid 1980s. Contrary to the bombastic maverick millionaire he protrayed on screen, I saw just another self absorbed jive ass turkey carnival barker. I will admit, I was entertained at first. Never did I even consider that one day he would have our nation bent over hay bales and without even a hint of lube, was ............ You get my point.

In the last 40 plus years Trump has managed to keep his sleazy self absorbed image prominently displayed in media centers around the globe. If anyone has found his true calling, it is Trump. He is definitely not a smart man in any conventional meaning of the word. But he is a canny manipulator, whose expertise is projecting an illusion of power and competence, while at the same time, openly proving he is a fake and a moron. 

The contradiction hurts my brain when I try to parse it out. No one this incompetent and stupid, should wield the kind of power he does. My only conclusion is, I have overestimated the level of common sense in America and underestimated the level of stupid that resides in much of our population. Add in the fact, that he also has zealots who think he sits at the right hand of God, well...... how did I not see this coming?

It was his Birther Conspiracy BS that made me pay attention to him after my previous decision to consider him a clown of no worth. It was at that moment, I realized his overwhelming tenacity in supporting the unsupportable with no retreat, always doubling down was his strength. He had learned the power of "Tell a lie often enough and it can become the truth" (Illusory Truth Effect). That was when I considered him more than just a funny clown. He had stepped into the area I reserve for the Evil Clowns. He was not quite Stalin,Putin, Ayatollah Khomeini, or Idi Amin but I was sure he would fit right in at one of their parties.

Time has proven in many ways, Trump has surpassed all of them with his ability to embrace the most evil tendencies of all of them. That he is still limited somewhat from implementing his worse impulses and desires is a testament to the limitations that somehow still exist in our Constitution. Add in the fact that his brain seems to be actually rotting, we may be saved by a near miss. Only time will tell. The problem now is, how much time do we have before our country devolves into that banana republic I have been predicting for so many years.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ..........................................

________________________

The image above was released by Governor Kathy Hochul of New York. She tought it might be the bi-partisan spark to begin mending the political fences that have become a huge dumpster fire. The MAGA folks would like it and the Trump haters might too. I like it; an honest representation of a living president who has his eye on every ball that bounces his way. I would only add that on the bill, it should have a printed caveat;  "Only worth the paper it is printed on - 4.1 cents". The prez gets another thing to put his name on and the respect his kool aid gulping minions score the show of respect Trump deserves.

______________________

This song was a hit back in the late 1950s o rearly 1960s. I remember it because of the drums and its tendency to pop up anywhere, anytime. The song itself meant little to me as I had all the money I needed; I was 7, 8, or maybe 9 years old. I had an allowance of 50 cents a week. Life was a worry free existence for me then. My oh my, how Life has changed. 

Here is "Money ... ( That's what I Want)" by Barrett Strong. 

Little Boxes

On September 23, 2025, I had the pleasure having my one millionth visitor here at "Lost in the BoZone". I started blogging at the end of 2004. It took almost 21 years for those million visitors to find me. Today, June 3, 2026, my visitor count sits at 1,622,891 visitors. Twenty plus years to have 1 million visitors; nine months to tack on over 600,000 more. At the rate I am going now, I have a chance to make the visit count over two million before the end of the year.

I cannot explain it. It is not as if my writing has improved enough to justify the increase. Matter of fact, I often consider my blogging period between 2008 and 2011 as the period I was not only the most productive, but I wrote better I think. Once again, I cannot explain that either. 

I may not be able to explain the recent rise in interest in the "BoZone", but I certainly can make guesses, both wild and more likely ones that are boring and no fun to write about:

• It could be that I may have finally caught the attention of a World starving for insightful and witty commentary on everything under the Sun. ............
• It could be that beginning to incorporate musical entertainment as part of my posts has enticed people to punch up my next post, just to see who's performing this time. ...........
• Most likely though, The Internet has become a jungle filled with too many algoritim bots wandering around looking for more information to process into new and improved money makers. 

I only mention this interesting burst of statistical growth as an observation that really needs no explanation. Not really. There is an outside chance the World might be interested in my blog. The reality is more likely the gazillions of bots out are just doing what they do; finding new and improved ways to separate us from that last dime we have in our pockets.

I only became interested in the stats when I was checking my published post count, which with this post will make 1996 posts in 21 plus years. A lot of words containing fewer words that might have entertained folks at some point or another. Up untill I saw the upcoming "You are the ..... visitor" statistic, I had not bothered checking blog stats for years at a time. I still don't check regularly now, but I peruse them more ofen.The stat page has all kinds of "in the weeds" information:

• Where the visitors visit from
• How many comments
• What operating systems are used to visit
• Url's who have visited.

The list is endless. If I had monetized the blog, the information would have broken down the information even more.

This bottomless pit of data on my blog is of no interest to me, other than in passing and even then, it's a yawner. However, there is no such thing as useless information, now that we have trillions of Bots crawling all over the planet's interactions of the Internet kind. There are countless creaters of Algorithmic equations who will find some way to make money, empower someone or something, or create alternate facts that support a thriving alternate world in our minds.

And what is the ultimate goal of gathering data like this? I think it is just another tool the puppetmasters have at their disposal to steer us to the conclusions they want us to have. Original thought is frowned upon now. The powers that be want to know how to lock us into little boxes they can arrange in any order, category, or location they want. 

Telling us what we want to believe is the process. Having us swallow their bullshit is the aim. Controlling us, the ultimate goal.

Keep it 'tween the diches .....................................................

______________________________

I had the post song chosen before I finished the post. No agonizing, no time wasting or frustrated searching; "Little Boxes" was written by Malvina Reynolds in 1962  and first recorded by Pete Seeger in 1963. The song was a popular folk song but did not really catch the mainstream mind until it was used as the theme for the TV series, "Weeds". That is when I first noticed it.

It is the perfect song to point up the never ending efforts of our culture to put us all into "Little Boxes".

Ain't Too Proud

Carol, a client of my wife the accountant, owns and operates a local weekly ad circular. Carol has been a booster and supporter of the Ogunquit Playhouse in Ogunquit, Maine for years. Because of her good relations with my wife, we have had the opportunity to see more than a few productions gratis. 

The playhouse is one of the premier summer playhouses in America. Since 1933, hundreds, if not thousands of actors and performers have played there. Many played there before they were famous, many played there after they became famous. The list of the celebrated stars is huge. 100,000 people take in performances every summer.

My first experience with the playhouse was in the summer of 1961 I think. I was in Maine spending some time with my aunt and uncle. They took me to a children's matinee production, the name of which, I cannot remember. Since then, I have had the pleasure of seeing many shows there.

Last night, we experienced a musical biopic of "The Temptations", a rythm and blues (Soul) group from the 1960s and 1970s.The Temptations, along with "The Supremes" often owned AM radio as their music crossed over racial lines and helped our culture heal some wounds between the races from the nasty legacy of Slavery and later, the Jim Crow era in the South.

I never owned a Temptations album, but I knew their songs. Their music popped up everywhere; Teen Club nights in the North Bethesda Jr. High gym and teen clubs across the nation. I can remember "My Girl" as one of those early "our songs". For the life of me, I cannot remember the girl's name who shared "Our Song" with me. 

"Ain't too proud" was a real treat. 31 songs woven into a narrative as told by Otis Williams, their leader for years. It  followed the trajectory of this super group's rise and fall. The voices of the players were amazing, the band that played the score was true to the music of the group. Overall, another excellent presentaation at this iconic playhouse.

One section of the perfomance caught me up and I could feel my eyes moisten. It was their journey through the Jim Crow South around the time Rev King was assassinated. For a few moments I was back in Tallahassee, Florida as a 12 year old watching white peckerwoods with bats and sticks descend on black protestors as the cops turned their backs or just looked away. I had gone to the protest, defying my parents orders to not go. I never told them until I was an adult.

That moment still haunts me 63 years later.The reality of Jim Crow came full circle for me. I really had no experience with racism until my years in Florida. It was a rude, in my face come to Jesus experience that insured I would never be comfortable around racism. It was maybe my first hint that white folk were no better than anyone else, contrary to the image they painted of themselves.

The biopic last night was not only a great musical treat, the way the narrative of the Temptations became an integral and seamless part of the story made for some fine theater. I had a wonderful time. The set was sparse. But a minute into it, I knew they were not going the rely on the set to prop them up. It was the narrative and the music. The music was fantastic. The outfits were perfect and the doos right on target.

I would have never thought all those years when I was dragged to this concert, that theatrical production; that it would all rub off on me so that now that I am an old fart, I can appreciate that which I did not as a child. Again another full circle has been completed.

Keep it tween the ditches .............................

_______________________

Of course I am going to use the Temptations hit, "Ain't tToo Proud to Beg" for this post. I also have to include the first and maybe the only "Our Song" I ever shared with a girl. "My Girl" is a song that has stood the passage of time. Finally, my favorite Temptations tune, "Ball of Confusion". Not just a political song, more importantly, they stepped outside of their comfortable "Pop Music, Motown" sound. 

Coming Soon......... Maybe

Once a week, I  am going to try to use a writing technique I picked up years ago when I first got into writing Flash Fiction.

It's about taking ten minutes to write anything I want, no editing, just write. At ten minutes, stop writing, read what you just wrote and then use only enough words to finish the thought, button up the plot, finish it some way that might be presentable. Editing is acceptable.

The Ten Minute writing limit comes from my involvement with a Flash Fiction challenge group, "Thinking Ten". I participated sixteen or so years ago until the blog owner decided to move on. Running a writing challenge every week is a lot more draining than one might think. 

I learned so much about writing that way. I was a kid in a toy room. I was allowed to run amok and play with any toy I wanted. When "Time" was called, we had to put the toys away and clean up the room. I wrote some of my favorite pieces then. My standard bloviations are fun and all; "Thinking Ten" proved to me brevity had its place also. Keeping the writing tight and clean helped me determine tipping points.

When the blog owner closed down his blog, the last thing he did was to create a book containing some of the stories our group wrote, including one of mine. At the time, I did not understand why he picked the one he did. There were others I wrote I felt were better efforts.

As it turned out, the blog owner was a teacher at the college level and the book was too become a teaching tool he developed to use in his classes in the future. Not counting a few letters to the editor over the years, it was only the second time I had seen my writing actually published. I thought I would be thrilled, but well, I am an adult with some years under my belt. Patting my own back is just not as satisfying as it used to be.

A fellow wannabe writer like me once commented that he wouldn't waste his time writing Flash Fiction. If he couldn't at least turn out a short story, what was the point of writing anything in the first place?

I have considered his words more than a few times. Every time I come back to the only reason I write in the first place. Though it's nice to garner compliments and be noticed, I write first and foremost because it is fun; especially fiction. Making up stories that never existed before or telling stories that did keep my brain still looking for the wonder that still exists out there. We just have to think it up. When the writing is over and I smile, .... That's what makes me happy.

Keep it 'tween the ditches .......................... 

___________________

I can't say for sure that I haven't used Procol Harum's song, "The Devil Came from Kansas" with one of my posts. The song is off their underappreciated album, "A Salty Dog". Released in 1969. It was one of the albums I purchased literally out of the back of a Ford Econoline van. The guy delivered albums and 45's to record stores in New Hampshire, Vermont and Maine. He also refilled 8-track racks in gas stations, restaurants, and anywhere his company had one. He came by the gas station I worked at once a month. He charged $1.50 an album, cash only. Over two summers, I built up a collection of over 100 albums. Almost all of them, albums he picked for me or ones I thought had a cool cover. I discovered early Fleetwood Mac and Peter Greene, Frank Zappa, The Grateful Dead, John Mayall and the Blues Breakers and Jethro Tull's first album, "This Was" along with Led Zeppelin's first album.

"A Salty Dog" had a cool cover. I bought it. It was the first album I had ever bought where I liked every tune on it. I liked it so much, I bought a second copy the next time the record guy came by. I knew I would be wearing it out. ( 3/28/26)

As I said, the album is one of those albums that I loved every tune. Picking one song took me two or three replays. As I write this, I still have not decided.

• "The Devil Came from Kansas" was my initial choice. The end of it is awesome as the guitar riff bounces from one speaker to the other.
• The next song, "Boredom" is anything, but not boring.
• Then I remember "Juicy John Pink". A blues tune. And I love the Blues.
• The song that follows "Juicy John" is orchestreal and grand. "The Wreck of the Hesperus" always makes me feel good and gives me rushes as it builds to the full orchestral climax.

Shit. Can't decide which song. Guess, I need to throw dart at the song list. That's the only way I will get through this.

"Boredom"  A Flute. A Glockenspiel. A combo made in Heaven.