Replacement........

Usedta could run, even hop a hurdle....... Now I stumble, on something called Wordle

Oh to be young, we all had that power........ Now, we take baby steps, in and outta the shower...

Twas fun to 'get up for the game', thought we'd never lose...... Now, we sleep through it, hitting snooze and snooze....

Run to the store, actually meant 'running to the store'.... Now, park as close as we can, can't takes it no more....

Hey, do ya wanna....... Nah, thanks though, not gonna.....

But..but.. but, we could go...  Eh, mebbe tomorrow, ya know.

Haircut, new outfit, pick me, pick me, I'm a good hire!   Now, the only energy we gots, is bitching 'bout the bill from Spire.

When you're alone and life is making you lonely, you can always go.. Downtown..   Petula, thanks. I'm old now, you're 89, we MIGHT later take the OATS bus, sorry if that makes you frown.

Hey, this Friday - The Sock Hop!  We'll dance to 'do-wa-dooo'...... Hell, I hop putting on my undies, staying home if it's all the same to you....

Money's tight.. maybe a part-time job?    GREAT IDEA, but wait, can't find my fob.

Now we're together nearly every single day, singin 'Do wah diddy dum diddy do'.....   A-we're so happy, pee alot, and that's how we're gonna stay, drinking coffee, prune juice, eating probiotics just a hopin' we'll doo too.

Snappin' her fingers and shufflin' her feet, singin' 'Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do', She looked good (Looked good).. She looked fine (Looked fine)... She looked good, she looked fine, ain't seen my glasses in three months, and I've nearly lost my mind...

Before I knew it she was walkin' next to me, singin' 'Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do', holding my hand shakin' xactly like me... singing'Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do'..  we walked on.. (Walked on).. to my door (My door).. We walked on to my door, then we kissed a little more...  tennis ball caught in a crack, now we're both a layin' on the floor...

Whoa-oh, I knew we was falling (in love too).. Yes, I did.. And so I told her all the things I'd been dreamin' of......

Arizona or Florida?   Geritol or Ensure?... Cemetery plots or Extra Crispy?...  

A-we're so happy and that's how we're gonna stay, singin' 'Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do', well I'm hers, (I'm hers), She's mine (she's mine), I'm hers, she's mine, Wedding bells are gonna chime.....oh Hell No but can't think of a rhyme.

And then she mentioned, "Were you aware elks have sex 6 times a day?"  "HOLY CRAP, and I just joined Knights of Columbus" - so, instead, we've decided on 'try weakly'.  Singin ''Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do' we'll look for those parts and see if they still move.....

Victor, this is dumb, tiresome, nonsensical......

Just like old age eh?

Reflections.......

Life is a forever documentary of people watching. Our brains, eyes, observe - then, it's within our given right to forget what we just saw, color it mundane....  Remember what we just saw, be incensed, enraged, indifferent, repulsed, etc.

My personal fav, is when we're amazed, that's where we write down what we've seen in indelible ink.  I am a biased sort, and don't fear stating so.  I have always easily been amazed by my sister.  She's gone now (since 1999), nonetheless, the memories are forever embedded.

She worked in day care. Started as a teacher, climbed the ranks.  After three or four promotions, pretty much spearheading the fourfold growth of this National Chain of Day Care - all eyes would be upon her, and she'd turn it around to where if it wasn't for so-and-so, and them-and-those, and this-and-that, it never woulda happened.  While we all knew the changes wouldn't have taken place without her, she was very convincing.  And wonderful.  Sorry, not sorry to say so.

Reflection:  "the throwing back by a body or surface of light, heat, or sound without absorbing it."...."the reflection of light"

So, we take all these 'notes' over the years, formulate our opines, and play teacher where we give out grades without actually giving out grades.

Liberty has long been a Community where hearing something has happened, spreads like wild fire. Yesterday afternoon, longtime William Jewell Basketball Coach Larry Holley passed away unexpectedly.  He was, and has been, one of Liberty's great lights.  News does travel fast, I've had 5 texts, four instant messages and a couple phone calls sharing the extremely sad news.

A very much so earned place of stature in our Community.  All of us have a story to tell about our dealings with Coach Holley, and one by one they're showing up on Facebook - proud all, to be able to share "how I knew Coach."

Mid 1960's.  I didn't know Coach, but I'll tellya what - he was an idol to me.  2nd only perhaps to Pistol Pete Marivich.  I grew up 200 paces from Brown Gymnasium at William Jewell.  I went to every WJC basketball game I could afford with my 'pop bottle route.'

While he certainly wasn't the only really good player on the team, he was by far the most dynamic, entertaining.  (Special kudos to Pee Wee Summers here.  Pee Wee could jump out of the gym, and in my years of people watching, he's in the top 5 as far as 'wonderful smiles'.)

Larry Holley wasn't built like a basketball player.  Please don't let him know that.  The 5'7"(?) guard, would throw up jump shots from darn near Daviess County where he grew up, and they would go in with a lot more frequency than missing. Unselfish, just when a defender thought "ha ha, you ain't shooting this one over me" he'd sling a nifty pass to Wence Cunningham, Homer Drew, or Pee Wee for an easy bucket.

Around our area, the biggies were, one Harry S. Truman (our family would drive to Independence just to try to find he and Bess out walking)... and then maybe by then Lamar Hunt.  As a punk teenager, Larry Holley, to me, clearly ranked ahead of those two.

My sister, the reflecting one, had graduated from Liberty, was now enrolled at WJC, and she was quite braggadocios when she told me "I know Larry Holley."  "DO NOT!".. ."DO TOO!".. "PROVE IT!"

A day or so later, a carload of Jewell kids pulled up in front of our house.  Came in.  Lo and behold, THERE... right there in MY living room... Larry Holley.  He had a smile on his face.  He always did.  Another one of my lifelong people deductions.  (Of course, as did my sister.)  So, I got to shake his hand, probably said something stupid, but dang it, my sister DID know Larry Holley.

Those.  Were.  Some.  Of. The. Funnest. Days. Of. My. Life. - watching WJC basketball with the wonderful, wonderful team they had back then. 

Over the years I got to know Larry a little bit better - but not like most of you.  He was a REFLECTOR.  Whenever you came in contact with Larry Holley, the urge came to tell him what a wonderful person, player, coach he was - BUT... BUT... he always turned the table and made it about you.

In the 70's, early 80's, I had a cup of coffee as the Women's Basketball Coach at Jewell.  Years later I'd be sitting in Rancho Grande in Liberty, and hear "COACH SCHULTZE!"..  Yep, Larry.  The wonderful smile, the upbeat conversation.  I was thankful to be probably one of over 10,000 names stored in his telephone

S'more people watching of Larry over the years.. he'd post a photo of his 1st team at Central Methodist....   The Senior Captains of one of his teams at Northwest Missouri State.  Pictures of him running into a former WJC player out and about.. .the player AND Coach, grinning ear to ear.

He always turned things around and made the reflection about whomever he was with.

Over the years, watching him post of Facebook has been fun.  Very fun.  His family. Numero Uno. (Another one of those things to check off as we people watch in our life.)  And we've mentioned all his students, players.  Former players turned coach - that was huge for him - and there have been many, and many good ones.. and guess why?  Uh huh, they learned from Larry Holley.  Of course the in's and outs of basketball... but also, how to be a good teammate, whatever your role may be.  How to be a good person. A good student.  It was all about giving your best.  So they did.  And have.  And benefited from him.

I'd be remiss if I didn't include humor.  "What would Larry do with all that time once Basketball ended?"  Thankfully, he uplifted us very often with a joke or a pun on Facebook.  He was a lover of levity from Liberty (via all those roads to Jameson.)  From people watching, that's simply another ingredient to add to the recipe of a remarkable person.

50 years ago, Title IX happened and Women's Sports grew at William Jewell.  First ever for many sports.  "Vic, call me."  I did.  The theme this year for William Jewell's Hall of Fame event is to be completely centered around Women's sports.  What's that got to do with Larry you may ask?   Lots.  #1, is love for WJC.  #2, his love for ALL WJC students.  I suspect, this might have even been his idea.

I was a gym rat (and WJC student) that first year of Women's Basketball in the 1972-73 school year.  So much so, the Director of Women's sports asked me to help coach the first team.  Which is fancy for, you live at the gym, you're not really good enough to play on the men's team, since you're always in the gym, you might as well put it to good use.  Hehe.  So I did.  Twas fun.  Lots.

"Vic, let me know as much as you can about that first year, who scored the first basket, first win against who/where at.."  We visited by phone.  Emailed back and forth.  Told him I'd go to the Clay County Archives and peek through old Liberty Tribunes to see what I could find.

Disappointment in that I only found two articles on the whole season. Ahm, 743 articles about the men's team...two about the women's team.  Hey, our uphill battle had just began.

So... I emailed Larry the two articles.. and one more.  I told him on the phone it was an article about a Jewell alum coming back to coach against his alma mater and spoiling WJC's day.  When I told him, there was a pause.. then a deep belly laugh because it was easy to figure the article was about him.  And then, reflection happened. "You know Vic, I think I was like 2 and 10 against Jewell in my career."  Coach, you can't fool me.  You were good.  Damn good. Not only as a coach, but as a person.

His unexpected death has been a total shock to us all.  We all, fall into one of life's beliefs "they'll be around forever."  Larry's death snuck up on us. He was SO full of life.

So very sad.

Upon life's people watching, Larry Holley had one of the best reflections ever.  Period.

It's a sad day, but Larry would reflect, "It's a great day to be a Cardinal."

Blame it on Wordle......

A couple days ago, I flunked Wordle.  You get, I think, like 6 tries with letters/position hints to come up with the 5 letter word they seek. It's spreading across the land faster'n herpes and Roe/Wade arguments.

This morning, I tried Wordle again, and will, for every day I awaken on this side of the sod. Imagine my surprise when I got the word on THE SECOND try.  I peeked at FB, a buddy also got it on the second try.  I was gonna write something, addressing my/his luck like "even the sun shines on a dog's ass some days."

Which....

Of course leads to a blog about butts.  I actually have researched butts all my adult male pig life.  Victor, you heap big pig.

Oink. Si.  See?

So........ some interesting research......

"Women have bigger butts than men."  I'm just the messenger.  Sposedta be because of hormones. Women have more fat in the lower part of their body whilst us fellas have more fat in the upper part of the bod.

Before anyone gets mad at me about the statement above, please don't forget Freddie Mercury said "Fat Bottomed Girls you make the rocking world go round."

And smarts.  (Smarts, not farts... yet anyways.)

In a study of 16,000 women it was deemed those with a greater hip-to-waist ratio had higher IQ's than less curvy women.  Same thing for their children "perhaps because the fat stored around the buttocks is high in omega 3 acids, which helps the baby's developing brain."

Surgeon Glute in a Suit. "The rate of butt lift surgery rose 252 percent from 2000 to 2015."  "The most popular rear-end procedure is buttock augmentation with fat grafting, known as Brazilian butt lift."  Insteada implants, Dr. Glute in a Suit takes fat from the abdomen and thighs and inserts it into the butt.  Eww.

This is all so educational.  "Farts are a mixture of swallowed air and bacterial byproducts - and most are stink free."  I don't research it, I just report it. Yes, farts are flammable.  There ain't a fraternity boy in the land that didn't know that one. Many a scorch mark on Levis.  Most people fart, on average, 10 to 18 times a day.

Victor, stymie halt.  I call BS on the "most farts are stink free."  OK.  "Even though farts have a reputation for smelling bad, 99% are actually odorless. The sneaky 1% that stink it up are thanks to hydrogen sulfide."  Can you just see that study group?  Man, woman on the street gathered for potential studies. "OK, now, we're going to do a study on whether or not farts stink... Volunteers?"  Oh to be a people watcher in that room to watch for hands raised and combined facial expressions.

There is no logical reason we have butt hair.

Back to Dr. Glute in a Suit.  For $3000 to $6000, as many as 25 butt dimples can be treated in one hour by Cellfina, a device that cuts away cellulite under the skin with no bleeding and minimal bruising.

Twerking does not involve the glute muscles.

Some turtles breathe out of their butts. (Imagine me and you, I do, I think about you day and night, it's only right, to think about the girl you love and hold her tight... Oops, sorry.)

Will end with two more quick butt stories, one PG, the other R or X.  Don't say I didn't warn you.

Ex girlfriend's 4 year old granddaughter. Constipated for 3 days. Yeouwwch. Several home remedies tried, more fluids, less fiber... FINALLY, she went. Basically in tears, "Hurt grandma, hurt. Band-aid. I need a Band-aid." So, granny found a long one.  Affixed it across from one cheek to the other, life was again good.

Same ex-girlfriend.  Worked in a hospital ER. They see all kinds of weird stuff.  Quarters, nails, screws swallered, things inserted. eww... you name it.  In this case, a table leg. "Doc, can you remove this table leg, I can't get it out."  Eww. CAPITAL EWW.  Doc did.

Two weeks later, feller returned.  "Forgot to grab my table leg."  EWW.  DOUBLE EWW EWW.

May you sleep past the buttcrack of dawn... May your day be all it's cracked up to be. Should you find yourself in a high-rise, don't believe the "they don't smell", otherwise, you'll be stuck in a Smelevator.

By Henry Gibson       Forward by Fanny May and Chester Keister

Love, Victurd

Pockets........

Dated a gal that wanted (pretty much 'had to have') pockets in any dress she purchased, wore.

Men.  We men, we generally clean out pockets when we go to the washing machine to pull the load of clothes out to switch to the dryer.  Sadly, I guess, true.

Today, when I think of lasses, I think of young gal wearing jeans, big ole phone tucked away in one of the two back pockets.  Ya hardly ever see men with phones in the back pocket, and, if ya stop and think about it, doesn't make sense we put em in the front pocket because 'there's stuff in the way' up there. Trivial.

Butt.  For years, we men did keep our wallets in one of the back pockets.  I'm guessing, some chiropractor somewhere finally figured out "ya know, you wouldn't have these back, hip, sleep deprivation problems if you simply didn't keep your wallet back there. Looks weird to keep in the front pocket.  There's stuff up there.  Is what it is, trivial - but, butt, at least now your back doesn't hurt, you don't need an alignment, or Sominex or a gummie to snooze.

Most men.  Scroll 40 years ago, yes, a perty decent chunk of working men wore suit coats.  Ain't the way now.  Thus, I have one nifty suit coat hanging in my closet. Weddings and funerals, that's what it's reserved for.  I save the literature from each, in the inside pockets of my suit. Sometimes a sad reminder, sometimes a needed reminder, sometimes "heck, he/she is on his/her second mate since that wedding."

Arnie.  Arnie was a really good dude. Pretty good athlete.  Back in the day, he'd have a ballgame where he'd get three hits in four at bats, but what stuck out to him was the time he overthrew first base and the runner advanced all the way to third on accounta him.  Victory or defeat, Arnie would trudge home a little heavier.  As if he were putting lead BB's in his pocket.  Weighted him down.

Arnie was actually a very good student.  Graduated third in a class of 275 students.  He won all kindsa honors in debate, two spelling bees and was delighted when he was selected to help grade school kids with their beginning reading. Arnie admittedly sucked in science.  Eh, some do.  Some don't.  What Arnie remembered from school though, was, in his junior year, being handed back a Biology test with a D- grade on it, and the Biology teacher kinda-sorta mentioning under his breath Arnie would never amount to much in life.  Over the years, when strife would happen, he'd hear that again, and put more BB's in his pockets.

Arnie met Angie, head over heels he was. She too. Fast forward 18 months, 250 people at their wedding, a kajillion wedding picks, and enough money from the bride 'dollar-dances' to fly to Costa Rica for their honeymoon.  Yum.  Life, it be good. Fast forward anudder 120 months, a curly headed 6 year old daughter, gorgeous dimples, and a right nifty bouncing baby boy, almost two. Been awhile since Arnie put anymore BB's in his pockets.

Then.  The company where Arnie worked got bought out.  He, and half of the workers at the plant, were told 'Sayonara.' Years of never having arguments were now encased in argue on a regular basis.  It can get kinda stressy when unemployment nears an end, the mortgage is a month late and the fridge ain't got much in it. Sold their home so as not to lose it, moved into a 2 bedroom apartment. Ne'er a moment to sit in the living room by one's self, have a beer on the back porch without all the noise, banter of every day life.  Arnie, and Angie, filled their pockets to the gills with BB's.

Arnie was wonderful in math, but, he/Angie didn't think much ahead when they separated, he got an apartment too when they couldn't even afford the one Angie and the kids were living in. Try as he might to remember exactly where/when/why (the happy stuff) they fell in love - the burden of the BB's drug Arnie down.

Arnie's brother Archie was a wonderful basketball player.  A so-so student, Arch had to work very hard to finally make the Honor Roll as a sophomore. He knew what Arnie's Biology teacher had said - and he tried helping Arnie, "heck Arnie, they all think I'm really something on the basketball court, I can't even dribble to my left and make a lefthanded layup." Arnie appreciated the thought, yet still, more BB's in his pockets.

Archie's junior year he won both the Hustle Award and the Most Improved Player Award in basketball.  The coach he had as a sophomore, now off coaching in another city, had told Arch "you'll struggle to ever start on the basketball team here."  Kinda drove Arch. He outworked everyone.  It was as if he was putting helium in his pockets to rise above.

Arch met Amy, head over heels. Eventually he got on a knee, proposed.  Amy said "heck yeah", and her folks said "hey, it's completely your call, but we'll pay for a huge wedding and not be able to give you any funds to start your marriage, or, pay for a very small, mostly family wedding and we'll give you $15,000 to get a leg up." Small wedding it was, big ole celebration (BYOB AND food) at the City Park for all after they returned from the honeymoon.

Three kids, boom, boom, boom... Arch teased "Honey, let's have a basketball team"... "Well, that could be 'V' for Victory, but I'd really rather see 'V' for vasectomy.  And so it was, viva la deferens.

Arch/Amy had many of the same problems along the way that Arnie and Angie did. It was all kinda sorta how they outwardly handled them, choosing helium in their pockets insteada loading their lives down with BB's.

(Blogger's note.. it's 6:55am.  I was supposedta work at 7:30, but, text last night "Supposed to rain, you have the day off".  So, just now, told "if you can't make it, all good, but it's not supposed to start raining now until 4pm or so, we're planning on opening at 8am."  So, blog writer need to finish NOW!)

Moral of the story.  Forget hot air, BB's.  Chose helium along the way.  Rise up.  Shit (sorry) happens.  To all of us. At some time, or another.  Smile. Laugh. Love.  Especially love the mirror.  Not to the conceited point, but to the point where "yeah, I can handle this."

If that don't work, cut a damn hole in your pocket so the BB's will roll out.

Love, Victurd

Clock on the wall........

When the clock on the wall says "time to get up... and go", then, and if, you're a young sprite, reckon ya better. Hope ya wanna, kinda helps making everything happier, easier.  DO question much, including clock on the wall telling you time to get up 'cause wall clocks don't do that, alarm clocks do...  and whatever kinda fancified things they got nowadays to awaken one.

When the clock on the wall says 5pm Friday, go... frolic... squeeze as much as you can into them two days and be sure it includes a dose of R&R, a heapin' helpin' of family, and a pinch of friendship.

Clock on the wall tells you you're 65.  Run, don't walk.  Get the heck outta there. OK OK.  I know things have changed, age for SS has changed. I hate when old people tell me what to do BUT get the heck out if you can. If it makes economic sense, you have health insurance, yada. It is literally one the best feelings in the world to have very, very few 'haveta's'.......

Clock on the wall says it's a friend on the call... answer.. go.. do.. rejoice. Friends are like oxygen, sunshine and coffee.  Hell to the yeah.

The clock on the wall WAY UP THERE tells you there's a young'n, way down there a tuggin' on your shirt.  Listen, go, do. Trust me, I can (and have at times) been onea the most selfish folks there ever was... sometimes a young'n will tug and you immediately think "oh man, I was gonna take a nap, go sit in the jacuzzi, sauna.. grab a 300 burger.. do what I wanna, no 'haveta's', well.. ya gotta.  It's easier to tell your hound, as you walk to the door, "sorry, next time...I promise".. or your honey.. ."Babe, it's the grandkids."  But ya can't, ya can't disappoint them little ones. They grow too fast.  We age too fast.  The combo ain't great, but it's what we're faced with.  Go, do.  No regrets. Grands are like oxygen, sunshine, coffee, Cinnamon Toast Crunch and vanilla ice cream, WITH a cherry on top.

Clock on the wall says "hey, don't forget YOU!"  And, we shouldn't. It's a perfectly good recipe to have a cup or ten of selfish.  Them soles on the bottoma the shoes belong to our souls, follow Nancy Sinatra's advice... are ya ready boots?  Start walkin....

Fido... or Figaro..  Sure ya can't forget 'em. Rub a head.  Pet a belly. Throw a ball. Tease with a feather. They're on your lap?  Then don't be so all-fired in a hurry to get up..  let 'em sink in. Time, no regrets.

Clock on the wall says "no forgetty great music".... wonderful spirits... a dark chocolate kiss.. a regular kiss!..  heck, if it's them little tuggers, make a big ole s'more!

The clocks a spinnin'..... keep on grinnin....

Watch out for poop!

Huh?  Yeah, poop. Pets have troubles sometimes... grands too... heck, even us old farts sometimes ain't so sure it was an old fart...  But... or, is that Butt...

But, the poop I'm talking about is yuck. Unhappy, bad mood, in too bigga hurry to see/smile, there ain't no 'gottas' in such a hurry we can't keep smiling, composed... the line at Mickey D's takes 20 minutes?  So, it takes 20 minutes.  Think about the last time you had.. VICTOR!  Hey, I wasn't finished. I was gonna say a scrumptious, fall off the bone BBQ rib.. yeah, that's it.

Poop happens everywhere.. real life.. home.. work.. in retail stores... on the phone.. on Facebook... even on the car windows as they sit beneath the walnut tree. Clock on the wall says baby smirk, that's all. No letty poop drive you down the brown brick road. Sorry. Kinda.

Clock on the wall.  Ya just never know when it will stop. Cheap batteries at the $1 Tree, er, I mean at the $1.25 Tree?  Electric cord plugged in with onea them fancified generators to backup should the power go out? Seen diesel?  Uh huh, over $5 a gal... We never, ever know when the clock will stop.

Ain't preachin', just reachin', for the best life. Hopscotch around little turds on the walk... Keep the reservoir fulla that blue stuff so youewindshield wipers can remove it in a millisec... No fall victim to 'wanna rassle' about politics, religion, this, that, other stuff?

Yes, we are human, but we get but one chance. I vote yummy, or at least try.

I've got a dance, I ain't got no steps, no
I'm gonna let the music move me around
I've got a dance, I ain't got no steps
I'ma gonna let the music move me around

Will it go 'round in circles?
Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky?
Will it go 'round in circles?
Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky?

The clock WILL stop.  Estate sales will happen.  Any remaining monies handed out, eventually gone. We're in the ground, or atop if ashed. At this point, it's too late.  We're but left to hopefully cross through the brains of those we oh so loved in our given time.

I know I've tucked that little 3"x5" card into my suit pocket more than a time or fifty as I leave a service.  Traversing from the chapel to the car... thoughts always turn to... summation of that life.  It is so, so wonderful to remember things like "I don't think I ever saw her without a smile on her face."  "He was so calm, I don't ever remember him getting bent outta shape."  "Wow... the love of children, loved ones.. friends..."

We're human, we'll slip, clock on the wall says "happens to all."  Living, loving, laughing, smiling while the clock ticks is the best.  Friends, loved ones, coworkers, acquaintances, and them little tuggers make it so much easier.

"Excuse me...  do you happen to have the time?"

Love, Victurd

Breaking news.......

Makes one giggle, and suspicious. Cry wolf.  The sky is falling. Not now Gretta, I've GOT to hear this.

CNN.  Those on the Right, frown at the sight. Eh, understandable.  Regardless, or is it irregardless, I always get confused, CNN has "Breaking News" 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  Or 8, as Paul McCartney might say.

Wouldn't it be fun to, say, have enough money to buy Twitter.... or, a major network... to where "you too can cipher whatintheheck is breaking news and what ain't."

You could post BREAKING NEWS, then take 43 commercial breaks before you ever get to the meat'a the matter, which in this case would be "THIS JUST IN, for everyone who has always wondered, we've counted...  as Mick sings Sympathy for the Devil, Keith, Charlie and Ronnie sing "Woo Woo" a total of 121 times."

You, and your network, could be the modern version of Paul Harvey... pay folks sitting at home to do research on stupid stuff that just might stir an interest. You know, like "Is that all there is?" the song.

Ya think of Peggy Lee don'tya?  Nope.  Leslie Uggams sang it first in 1968, THEN came Peggy Lee in August of 69, followed by Guy Lombardo same year, and Tony Bennett at the end of 69.

Victor, is that all there is?   Well, no.  Thru the years its been covered by big names (Bette Midler, Diana Ross, Chaka Kahn <-- which, breaking news tells us Chaka Kahn means "fire").. and little names, Giant Sand, Sandra Bernhard, John Parrish, PJ Harvey, Alan Price, The Bobs, to name a few.  And nope, that ain't all there is.

But...........but... the 'need to know', or, Paul Harvey, the resta the story, good day is....when Peggy recorded this in 69, it was a pain.  The songwriters and producers, etc, were PARTICULAR.  SO Particular...please tell us Victor, How particular?

Well....it took 'em three dozen recordings before they got it right.  Is that all there is?  No, more in a sec. It was said Peggy became increasingly at home with the mood of the song during all this. Damn she got some patience, I woulda said "Once more and if that ain't right, I'm getting the hell outta here, call Leslie back in " but she didn't.

Finally, TAKE # 36 Perfect.

Except.

Paul Harvey.

Breaking News.

The rest of the story.

As the jubilation of "getting it right" ebbed... it was learned.. the engineer.. forgot... to... press.... "record."  Uh huh, true.

So... it took 37 takes.  Is that all there is?  Yes, it is.

This is a very short blog today because I gotta work, I'm hungry, I stink and better take a shower before I go in. Oh, and get gas. Screw "Gas Buddy", breaking news on my network in an hour on who has the cheapest gas in/around Liberty, MO.

And tomorrow..... the sun'll come out tomorrow.. well... maybe.. it's April.. it's supposed to rain.  No, I don't mean forecast, I mean that's what happens in April... the showers bring May flowers, which, is not to be confused with the Mayflower.... and is there any truth in the matter that the pilgrams ran out of beer, all along they'd intended to land the Mayflower in Northern Virginia, but they ran outta beer thus landed in Massachew... ahm, Massachooo... well, you know.

Chaka Kahn, Chaka Kahn.  Hard to believe that ain't her real name ain't it? (Yvette Marie Stevens, also has a sister Yvonne who is in music too, as... Taka  Boom, Taka Boom.)

Victor, is that all there is?

Today, yes.  You see, I've these two way video things (like "Ring Doorbell" except only for my laptop.) I can see Terry is starting to fall asleep, and my buddy Pup has his zipper down and he's getting ready to take a walk.  I'd better tell him first.

Pup, breaking news......

Chaka Kahn.

Taka Boom.

Watch him folks, he's a thoroughly dangerous man.

By Henry Gibson and Paul Harvey.........   "Publish" button pressed by the guy who forgot to hit record on Is That All There Is?   Edited by some Loony Leftie

Love, Victurd 

Grand people watching........

Today, when kiddos come home from school - mom and dad are really not much of a big thrill. Oh, kids love 'em, but it's same ole same ole every day.  First thing kiddo wants to do is go play with whatever today's version of Chatty Cathy is... (Maybe "app'y Abby?"). There's a breeze as the child runs by. That's all good, dinner to cook, house to clean, clothes to wash, bills to pay, yada yada.

Granny, and or grandpa come to the door - holy havoc breaks loose.  The grands that can talk and run, run and talk to the grands.  The ones that ain't learned to walk yet,  bounce down the stairs on their butt with the delight of "what's next granny?" Amazing they don't hurt their buns, but, I reckon that's why God gave us a little extra padding.

I am an OK grandparent.  My ex is the Bomb. She takes the grands darn near every weekend, takes 'em wherever they wanna go, whenever they wanna go.  She learned that from her own mom who with certainty coulda won twenty or so Grandmother of the Year awards.

Grandparents neatly plan nifty things to do with grandkids.  Things like, going down the 'Fan Aisle" in WallyWorld and, with grands, virtually scream kinda-sorta into each fan as they pass. It's Goofy, Goofy starts with a G and that's Grand.  Skippin' a rock in a pond.  Hopscotch.  Pick an animal, any animal, and pretend you're it and hop, walk, skip around.  You know, stupid, but really important stuff. And it HAS to be done with a smile, for grandkids are as stupidly in love with their grandparents as grandparents are in love with grandkids.

From their many years of being a parent themselves, Grandparents have kinda figured out how they're gonna pay the mortgage (if they stlll got one), there's leftovers enough in the freezer for a nice long week of 'we ain't gotta cook'... Work?  HA.  We took that job and shoved it long ago.  Inotherwords - ALL EYEBALLS, ATTENTION GOES TO THE GRANDS.

You can kinda tell... when kiddos are riding with parents, like from a study conducted by some handsome blogger from Missouri, says, that on average a kid will say "Mom".. or "Dad", an average of 4.7 times before they're ever acknowledged. (to be continued)

"You know what it's like having five kids?  Imagine you are drowning and someone hands you a kid."  Jim Gaffigan

  On the other hand, a kid says "Granny" one time and it's "YES my little precious one?" shot back in a millisecond.  Parents got all this other crap going on - grandparents, they are stuck on grandkids, 'cause grandkids are stuck on them.

Somehow, thanks to maybe somea them pills in the SMTWTFS pill box, or through good genes, or maybe thanks simply to extra effort, grandparents won't wear out until grandkids wear out. When the evening, or afternoon, or weekend eventually ends, then and only then, do both 'teams' collapse into their respective beds.

With granny and grandpa, the rules, without getting granny and grandpa in trouble, can be bent a tad. Grandparents too have these neat tricks that actually take off ice cream from carseats. A spill really ain't a big deal.  This is Act 4 in life, why get all hot and bothered by that?

Pictures.  Holy crap, pictures. Well, ya gotta take a lotta pictures 'cause they grow up too gosh awful soon, and so in a year or so  you can look back and say "awwwww... I remember you when you were that age."

I won't keep you and I'll get off here, but basically, what I think I am trying to say is, it's been a long time since a grandparent has been able to 'act like a child.'  What, maybe 11 or 12 Presidents ago?  Ever since Color TV happened? So....... OF COURSE grandparents are giddy as heck to get to be kids again. Event planner.  Snot wiper offer. Bandaids in the billfold, purse. Quarters for games. Gas to go wherever, price be damned. Even 'almost running' when ya didn't think that was even possible.

Kids wanna be kids.  Homework, boo hiss.  Clean the room, be for real.  Turn the TV down. Stop being mean to your baby sister. Let go of her ear please.  GRANDMA (AND GRANDPA) ARE HERE! YIPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEE!  Anywhere, anything, whenever, wherever we want!

Kids will be kids. Say and do the darndest things.  No matter if they're even too young to walk down the stairs, or too old to run up 'em.  We go from SCHOOL (being a kid) to Parenting to FINALLY, back to being able to be a kid again.  Act 1 and Act 4.  The bomb.

"Oh it's ok honey.  That chocolate shake will wash out, mommy and daddy are real good with laundry.  And I think daddy can use ice and scissors to get that dab of bubble gum outta your hair, you prolly won't even be able to tell."

WE'RE HOME!  SEEYA NEXT WEEKEND!

"You're dead if you aim only for kids... Adults are only kids grown up anyway." Walt Disney

So... a few hot baths... several days of naps, good long naps... making sure to take the SMTWTF pills.. perhaps some Bengay.... ibuprofen... kiddo wipes to get the chocolate shake off the carseat.. coupled with 5 or so days of school..........

And we'll do it all over again next week, the Good Lord willin'.......

By Henry Gibson......... Forward by the Grandma Moses and Grandpa Walton

Love, Victurd

Malapropisms............... (gesundheit)........

#8  Lived to be 90. Born in St. Louie in 1925, signed by the Yankees in 1943, but War happened.  Yogi Berra served as a gunner's mate  in the Normandy landings during World War II.  Earned a Purple Heart.

Yes, folks remember Yogi for his goofy sayings.  That malapropism word, I didn't know it.  "the mistaken use of a word in place of a similar-sounding one, often with unintentionally amusing effect, as in, for example, “dance a flamingo ” (instead of flamenco )"

"You come to the fork in the road, take it."

He took it to Yankee Stadium to the tune of being an 18 time All-Star, won 10 World Series Championships (that's more than ANYONE else).. 

"I usually take a 2 hour nap from 1 to 4."  Me too Yogi, me too.  And with retirement, it feels so dadgum good.

"We made too many wrong mistakes."  Yessir Mr. Hall of Famer, that's pretty much all of us, for pretty much all of our lives.

"Ninety percent of the game is half mental."  Learning this as we brush through life and Google, medicate, be counseled, counsel, console, lean, help one leaning, yada.  It doesn't make sense but it so much does make sense.

"Never answer an anonymous letter."  One may laugh, but Yogi was ahead of the game.  "Spam Risk" cell phone calls, Area Codes "I don't know anyone from there" and Ring Doorbell cameras keeps solicitors, fanatics and maybe criminals away.

"No one goes there nowadays, it's too crowded."  Those of you who grew up in Liberty, this might 'hit home.'  Virtually everyone who usedta live here states this about present day Liberty.  Us still here, and all them damn others we have no idea where they came from, laugh, and STILL, love our town.

"Take it with a grin of salt."  Laugh?  Maybe, but when you think about it, food goes down much easier with a 'grin' of salt, and life?  Hella easier with a grin.  You tell 'em Yogi, we'll tap our foot.

"The future ain't what it usedta be." Of course this hits home with us old farts. We acquiesce much. Recently my leg was hurting, went to a HS basketball game.  As I looked for the damn elevator to get to the upper level, I had to stop and laugh because this is the High School I usedta long jump and high jump at.  The future ain't what it usedta be, but OH OH OH, the memories. Golf weekly with townies, friends for 60+ years, just had a reunion of college buddies yesterday, some not seen for 40+ years. We may not remember who won the election in 1996, the Super Bowl winner five years ago, but by golly stuff from 40-50 years ago is SO WONDERFULLY embedded in us all.  It is what it usedta be.

"You can observe a lot by watching."  Agreed Mr. Berra.  Next to sliced bread and sex, people watching, to me anyways, is one of life's wonders.  (You can observe a lot by watching won't help you decipher if blog writer meant two things, sex, and sliced bread....or, if he meant sliced bread included during sex.) You come to the fork, take it.

"It's like deja vu allover again."  Oh Yogi, do us old farts know this one.

"A nickel ain't worth a dime no more." He was forecasting, gasoline, ground beef, the One Doller Twenty Five Cent Tree store....

"Pair up in threes."  "You better cut the pizza in four pieces cause I'm really not hungry enough to eat six." Who cares about numbers, life is a party, and it doesn't have to be restricted to just two people to have fun.

"It gets late out there early."  Another forecaster for life at 60, 70 and beyond.

"I don't know if they were men or women fans running  naked across the field, they had bags over their heads."  Did he know the future or what?  

"If you ask me anything I don't know, I'm not going to answer."  Oh Yog', if only all of Social Media lived by this rule - we all might peacefully coexist.

"I never said most of the things I said."  And Yogi, we too were so lucky that back in the day, not every Tom, Dick or Harry walked the Earth with a camera and a microphone.  Of course, today we are in jeopardy,  but saying goofy stuff at our age, kids will just think it's a malapropism. (Don't worry, they don't even know what Funk and Wagnell is.)

Most of his stuff Berra's repeating.

"If the world were perfect, it wouldn't be."

By Henry, Josh and Bob Gibson.  Forward by Mantle and Maris. Edited by Uecker.

Love, Victurd

I am stuck on Band-aid...

It's me, doing a little research. Usually, when I start this junk, I have a pretty good main idea on stuff I'm gonna write here.  Today, I really don't.

I'm gonna Google, Wiki, some of my favs, and, you my friend(s), can carry on here, or, do other stuff.  Won't get mad, a promise.  Take a nice walk (while ya can.) I can't (long, short story), but I'd loveta.  Go grab breakfast, yum, my fav.  Find someone you love and just say "Ya know what?  I love you."  Phone a friend.  If you're a fuddy dud like me, and you've reached this old age, and there are things you DON'T know general stuff about (like me, and say, WWI).. Google, Wiki.  Heck, we ain't too old to learn.

Or, carry on.

Sir Michael Philip Jagger was born in 1943. His father was a former gymnast turned Physical Education teacher - and his claim to fame was helping to popularize basketball in Britain.  Mom did hair, but, looks like Mick rarely got his cut!  I didn't know until today, that Mick and Keith Richards, at age 7, were classmates at Wentworth Primary School.  I love 'em both.  Over the years, they've had so many breakups and backtogethers, they maybe shoulda been known as The Bouncing Stones.

Mick's family moved, he/Keith lost track of each other, reunited by chance on platform two of the Dartford Railway Station in 1960.  The next year they moved into a flat together in Chelsea, London. Of course music was at the forefront, but Mick continued with college, to study finance and accounting, with a goal to become a journalist of politician.  Break up, get together, break up, get together, etc...

In the meantime, much Sympathy, Red Doors needing painted, Wild Horses, Jumpin' Jack Flash, they discovered You Can't Always Get What You Want, and split again.

Their last 'get together again' happened in 1988 in Barbados. Keith would put it "We just started in. And within two days, we realized we had five or six songs happening. I did have to take Mick to a few discos -- which are not my favorite places in the world -- because Mick likes to go out and dance at night. So I did that. That was my sacrifice. I humored him. And that's when I knew we could work together."

I've never seen The Stones. The last time they came to KC I really wanted to go.. Gal I was with had seen them, said "Nah...."  wish I woulda.  I have a buddy, I know, hard to believe.. anyways, he's a music reviewer, was for The Star for many a year - anyways, one day I asked him "I'm sure people ask you all the time 'Who are the biggest jerks?', I'm curious, who are the nicest artists? Without taking any time to think, he said "David Bowie and Mick Jagger." He said Mick was extremely nice, punctual, "yes sir", etc.. all nifty. I love too, the fact when they were here, they toured The Negro Leagues Baseball Museum.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hi.  Victor asked me to tell you that I was another of his favs. I was born in 1938 in Slab Fork, West Virginia. My dad was a miner, my mom a maid. They divorced when I was three, I went to live with my mother's family, my father passed when I was 13. I enlisted in the Navy when I was 17... spent 9 years.. moved to LA to hopefully start a music career. Along the way I had real jobs just like you..  Douglas Aircraft, IBM and Ford.

1971 was a good year for me. I signed with Sussex Records, produced an album entitled Just As I Am (you mighta seen it, I was on the front cover, pic taken at my job at Weber Aircraft, me and my lunchbox.)  I was lucky enough to have Stephen Stills play lead guitar on... and, on that album were "Ain't No Sunshine" and "Grandma's Hands" (scroll to me being raised by my momma's family!)... 

Some NY Times feller put it pretty succinctly about Bill Withers "a soulful singer with a gift for writing understated classics", adding, "the ultimate homespun hitmaker, he had an innate sense of what might make a song memorable, and little interest in excess attitude or accoutrements. Ultimately Withers reminded us that it’s the everyday that is the most meaningful: work, family, love, loss."  I love me some Bill Withers and his music.  Lean On Me perhaps adds it all up about him, his beliefs, actions in life.  He is missed.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Farrokh Bulsara probably doesn't ring a bell, but Freddie Mercury might. He was born in Zanzibar in 1946. He attended English-style boarding schools in India from age 8, until he returned to Zanzibar after secondary school. In 1964, his family fled the Zanzibar Revolution and ended up in Middlesex, England.

Someone Wiki'ed Freddy with "Regarded as one of the greatest singers in the history of rock music, he was known for his flamboyant stage persona and four-octave vocal range. Mercury defied the conventions of a rock frontman with his theatrical style, influencing the artistic direction of Queen."

We all have different likes, tastes, in anything in life, and music is no different.  I'm a lover of people who do music like no other, and I believe this fits him/Queen with Bohemian Rhapsody, Somebody to Love, We Are The Champions and Crazy Little Thing Called Love.  I've not seen the movie, not really sure i wanna.. Wanna remember him in music and video. Another, gone way too soon.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Baby snippets of other favs....... Neil Young's dad was a sportswriter who also wrote fiction. His mom was a member of The Daughters of American Revolution. Born in Toronto, Canada, Neil developed polio at age 6, partially paralyzing him on his left side.  Upon completion of his hospitalization, the family would Winter in Florida, hoping the warmer weather would help him.  His folks divorced when he was 12, he moved to Winnepig to live with his mother.

Buffalo Springfield, Crazy Horse, to where in 1969 he would become the fourth name of Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. My greatest love for Neil Young came from his fourth solo album, Harvest. I literally wore that album out.  I've always been a simpleton, but, I remember playing it, moving the needle back, and playing it again.... and again... and again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A longtime person of ADD, I guess in later years they added an H (ADHD), I dunno, I wasn't paying attention.  I don't have the attention span to a go over all of Fleetwood Mac's formation, transition, name dispute, additions, departures, reformations, reunions, unleashed, returns... I just know, they're damn good.  UNIQUE.  A sound like no other (at least to me.)  Certainly doesn't hurt to have a couple of beautiful ladies with beautiful voices.

I fell in love with Oh Well... both parts. It so uniquely pinpoints life.  It is what it is kinda. There are 18 different names that have been in and out and maybe back in and out again in this Band. I'm huge on acoustical guitar, and again, just a real unique sound.

Thank you if you stayed.  That's it.  If you took a walk, went to breakfast instead, all good.

Oh well.  Lean on me.  Grandma's hands. Scaramouch, Scaramouch, will you do the Fandango! Paint that damn red door black.  Old man. Ain't no sunshine.

Thunderbolts and lightning, very, very frightening me
Galileo, Galileo
Galileo, Galileo
Galileo, Figaro - magnificoo

You can't always get what you want here, but if you could, what music would you listen too if someone said "What song, or group would you play to put you in a happy mood?

Play........ and have........a.........Happy day........

Love, Victurd

A new leaf.......

I've decided... since I've been a true sophomore since 1967, it's time I grew up.

Boy are you gullible.

We Pavlov life away mundanely.

Facebook, for example. We do those post things where it will show what we look like at age 80... take those ten question quizzes, then lie about it "Aced it!"...

S'more FB goodies.. "How empathetic are you?"  We play with those cartoon caricatures of ourselves and concoct one that looks 20 years younger, 30 pounds lighter. (Catch me if you can!)

We find out how many of the damn 50 states you brag to have been to.  Exotics Isles, Cities, lands you've seen.

We, frankly, could care less how many on the list of 25 foods you've eaten.

Oh the games people play now... every night and every day now.  Patooey.

My relatives assuredly won't claim me, but, that's the great thing about being a relative, they ain't got no damn choice!

I'm calling BS.

I want real.

I delight, smile, immerse myself - in the disgusting.  Always have, always will. Sorry, not sorry.

Screw your IQ.  Sorry, but not really.  I no afraid of you when you research your name and it warns "Oh, but cross me just one time, and WATCH OUT."  (Yawn).

I lied.  I suck at gardening.  There ain't no new leaf.  I will die a sophomore. Proudly.

So............ I've concocted my own survey I'd love to see on Facebook some day.

Enjoy.  Liar.

HAVE YOU EVER?

1. Peed in the pool.
2. Wiped a boogie on the sidea the couch.
3. Clipped your toenails, saw them scattered on the floor and thought "Eh, I'll vacuum them later."
4. Gone the speed limit in the slow lane.  Been tailgated.  Slowed down to 5mph under the speed limit.
5. Flipped the undies you wore yesterday and put em back on.
6. Covered up a sneeze with your hands, then, once no one is no longer looking, wiped your hands down the side of your clothes.
7. Peed in the shower.
8. Used someone else's toothbrush and didn't tell them.
9. Dug food out of your teeth without washing your hands.
10. Used a finger to clear your ear, then, looked immediately after to ascertain the 'fruits' on the end of your finger.
11. Reused ear buds that have literally never been cleaned.
12. Wiped your eye gunk, then marveled at it.
13. Torched a fart.
14. Torched a fart and burnt your jeans.
15. Smelt your fingers after touching certain body parts.  (Liar)
16. Silent farted in a crowd then immediately asked "OK, who did it?"
17. Gone three or more days without showering.
18. You paid a clerk, they gave you too much money back and you walked away didn't you?
19. You keep a cup (the same one) in your car in case you have to pee... don't you?
20. Pulled over and peed in nature because you feared you couldn't make it to "Conoco Conoco I gotta go to Conoco."
21. Gone on a date and used breathmints insteada brushing your chops prior.
22. Used the same bath towel for any two consecutive months (without washing it.)
23. Grabbed the milk jug from the fridge, taken a big swig, put it back and never told anyone.
24. Lied when someone proudly asked you "How do I look?"
25. Sped up when merging because the asswipe behind you tried passing you on the right.
26. Sharted.                

Liar.

By Henry Gibson.     Composed by Neilson, Harris Poll, Fox News, Survey Junkie, and the old people that drink coffee and tell war stories in the Hy Vee every morning.

Love, Victurd

Paul Harvey Pandora.....

Raindrops keep falling on my head, So I took the day off and fixed my roof instead.....

My boomerang won't come back, so, I borrowed Randy's dog Buddy.....

Where have all the flowers gone........ they're at Vernetta's over on Moss Street...

Should I stay or should I go?..........  paper scissors rock just one time...

Who let the dogs out?... We have a doggy door you idiot.

Have you ever seen the rain?...  (See above, ie, 'fixed the roof')

Are you lonesome tonight?    Dumb question Betty, jump in......

Does anybody really know what time it is?    Watch CNN, they list all the time zones pretty much all day and night....

Did you ever have to makeup your mind?  (See paper scissors rock above)

Do you know the way to San Jose?   Google Maps, MapQuest, Apple Maps, GPS, MapFactor Navigator, etc.

What's your name?  Lynyrd, we've been over this time and again, it's Puddin' Tame, ask me again and I'll tell you the same.

Are you experienced?  Betty, no, but see lonely above, jump in.

Why can't we be friends?   Trump/Biden, Yankees/Red Sox, Chiefs/Raiders, Innie/Outtie, Different verts (intro/extro), KU/MU, Management/Worker Bee, Genius/Near genius/Very Superior/Superior/Average/Backward/Feebleminded/Dull/Idiot, Public Educated/Parochial Educated/Home Schooled/Too Cool for School, The KC Star/Edward Scissorshand/The Rock.

Why don't we do it in the road? Aside from all the flattened squirrels, raccoons, deer that tried - does it really sound comfortable to you?

Will you love me till the end of time?  YES.  Lemme see the fingers on your hand that's behind your back. Damnit, you got me!

Do you wanna dance? Yes, bring alcohol, no cell phone cameras and YouTube Motown.

Who'll stop the rain?  Damnit, we've been over this.

How much is that doggy in the window? Patti, that's so old school. Stay away from breeders, go to the pound, foster if nuttin' else.

What's goin on?  Lots Marvin... Wordle, The Weekend, EASTER, Easter egg hunts, parents literally stealing kid's candy, chocolate hangovers

What's love got to do with it?  Damnit Betty, I said 'Jump in'!

Is that all there is?  Well... ahm, no Betty.. we can play Wordle... it's the Weekend.. we can hunt Easter eggs.. steal the grandkid's candy, share chocolate

What's new Pussycat?  Leave me alone and go ask the dog, he'll wag his tail at anything.  Cats rule, dogs drool.

Does your chewing gum lose it's flavor on the bedpost overnight? Betty, c'mere.. in the morning you can look, I've got a whole damn drawer fulla Doublemint, Juicy Fruit, Dentyne, Dubble Bubble, Trident, Orbit, Extra, yada...

Do you think I'm sexy?  Nevermnd.....

How deep is your love?  Well, let's start with the waterbed.  Did the damn roof patchwork work?  Did you remember to let the dogs out so they ain't in here?   On a scale of one to ten, how much damn chocolate did you eat for Easter? Betty's BMI?  Your BMI?  The Pussycat or Edward Scissorshands aint still here are they?

This isn't a song, but are you really stupid enough to publish this blog?

Good day,

Love,Victurd

We gotta get out of this place.... if it's the last thing we EVER do.....

Blog post #1,835:

They all start the same.  One 8 and 1/2 by 11 wholly white page with nuttin' on it staring at you.  Ideas (scary I know) go thru the brain.  Like 99 ideas, but we don't wanna do the 99 bottles of beer on the wall for that would surely cause folks to turn and run.

So.  I was reading a post.  It was a rather calm post about the fact that not all people drink alcohol "and they don't need to explain why."  Innocent.  Sure. Agree. Then, the person that posted the meme added "And if you go so far as ridiculing them for not being "cool enough", you're a douchebag who drinks to make up for your lack of personality."

OK, then it kinda turned political.  NO, PLEASE VICTOR NO!  Relax, will only take a sec... Anudder added "I drink beer and I don't give a shit whether you do or you don't. If you think people drink because they have no personality it's probably because your (I think actually meaning 'you're', as in you are, but spelled 'your') one of those Tolerant fkn lefty Commiecrats. Go get a stuffed animal to cuddle up with cause I probably Triggered ya."

Well, come to think of it, maybe. Please trust me.  I know things are said by EACH side that could be considered offensive.  I think butt hurt is the going phrase. I'm not a huge fan of pigeonholing either side as if to portray "all them people are alike". So, when I typed that, I find myself doing the same damn thing.

Our world was having a BBQ.  Folks were summoned to grab the briquettes. "I'll grab some twigs".. "I finished today's Wordle, here, we'll put the newspaper on the bottom."  "I brought this can'a lighter fluid, here, lemme spray a bit." "I've got one of those long lighter thingies, here."  POOF.

Before you know it, the yard's on fire.  Then the neighbor's yard.  Then the whole damn street.  Town.  County.  State.  Then, The United States of 'Merica are on fire.

We all be butt hurt.  So.  A blog on butt hurt?

Blog idea. It IS like the old game pong though. Do this (butt hurt), BOUNCE, use some parody (BOUNCE AGAIN), call it (BOUNCE), something like the Days Of Our Lives saying (BOUNCE AGAIN, and again, and again).  Call it (BOUNCE) "Like sliding down the splintered banister of life, so are the days of our lives." (PONG, BOUNCE...    )

Nah.......

Then I started to look up "Butt hurt" (several Google bounces around.) Much to the satisfaction of the Tigger guy, butt hurt, it seems, is a phrase used to pigeonhole Liberal sorts.

Victor.   This craps gotta stop.  You're (pretty sure it's 'you're') gonna offend Repubs and Dems alike.

OK.  BOUNCE.  Howabout a blog on "how in the HELL did we get here?"

You mean, like, use your brain and figure this all out?

Nuh uh.

Use GPS.  Ain't that how we get from A to B?

Back in my day (hehehe) we used book maps.  They became dogeared.   And if ya ain't buying one every six months, there were new streets all over.

GPS solved all.   Please, let's gather and sing a few bars of "We are the World... We are the Children"...

No, dat ain't it.

OK, GPS it is.

One of my first recollections of GPS was driving to attend the wedding celebration of a friend, to be held in a big ole barn, in the middle'a nowhere, somewhere around Raymore, Missouri. I set sail.  Particulars entered in GPS.

I drove. And drove.  And drove.  The 32 minute drive was up to 54 minutes.  Finally, I was on a gravel road.  "Your destination is on the right."  It was a pasture of cows.  Not a barn, a silo or an outbuilding in sight. Nothing but cows. A few turns here and there it was ciphered I was about 20 miles inside the State of Kansas.  Uh huh.

Howinthehell are we gonna Humpty Dumpty our Great Nation back together if THAT'S where GPS takes us to?

Turns out I wasn't alone.

Three Japanese tourists in Australia used GPS to plan a drive to North Stradbroke Island, just off the coast of the eastern city of Brisbane.  GPS failed to account for the 9 miles of water dividing the island from the mainland. Uh huh. Road turned to gravel. Then mud. Then gentle laps of water against the tires.  Soon, they were in the ocean.  Abandoned the car, headed back. A passing ferry (the recommended way to get to the island) saw all. Tow truck driver gave the boys, and the car a ride back to town.  Car totaled, taken to the dump.

My fellow 'Mericans.  GPS is THE way.  The cure all.  Uh huh.  Yep.

Foggy Mountain breakdown.  OK, foggy night.  Man, wife, two kids driving through South Brunswick, NJ.  Came to a T instersection.  Remember, foggy.  GPS said "Go straight", driver did, a hunnerd feet later, bonked a damn house. Two not wearing seatbelts got hurt.  "This stuff really happens" a police spokesman remarked.

Ask not, what your (I think that's 'your' ain't it?) book map can do for you, but what you can do with GPS.

A Swedish couple on 'holiday', that's what they say I guess over there... not vacation.  Anyways, a nice relaxing planned holiday on the golden beaches of Capri, ahhhh yes.  Cept.  Cept, they spelled it Carpi when they entered it into GPS.  Carpi is an industrial city in Italy's Northern region.  Some 400 miles away from Capri. They only discovered their error when they stopped to ask locals how to get to the island's famous "Blue Grotto."

What we've got here is a failure to communicate.

An 80 year old man ignored a series of warning signs and drove his Mercedes Benz into a giant pile of sand near Hamburg.....  37 yr old German truck driver, using GPS to attempt to make a delivery at a Swiss factory, ignored "no entry" warning signs, followed the female GPS voice.......until his truck lodged into a cherry tree.

A hick named Vic (prolly one of those tolerant fkn Lefty Commiecrats) drove 20 miles into Kansas in attempt to reach a barn wedding in Raymore, MISSOURI.

We gotta get outta this place, if it's the last thing we EVER do... We gotta get out of this place, 'Cause girl (and 'Merica) there's a better life for me and you.

BRB.  My butt kinda hurts.  Gonna GPS to the CVS to getme some mercurochrome.

By Henry Gibson.............   Forward by Nancy Pelosi, Mitch McConnell and Tigger.

Love, Victurd

Go back.. go back... go back to the woods.. your team ain't got no spirit and your coach ain't no good...

Go back to the woods, aka "Run for it"... "let's get out of here quickly"... I remember this chant from an NAIA game long ago at Municipal Auditorium.  I don't remember either team but I'll never forget the chant.  I thought it was priceless.

With KU winning the NCAA Basketball tourney this past week - it's been a difficult time to be a Missouri Tiger fan.  A Trumpster could probably partake in a meal with a Let's Go Brandon - backer...  The Hatfield descendants might even meet up with some McCoys to have dinner at the Home of Throwed Rolls.  BUT.. I dunno if KU/MU fans will ever peacefully exist with each other.

Sport's rivalries come, and they stay.  The "Border War" rivalry began in 1891.  For 105 consecutive years, 'we' played in the same conference.  KU fans will/have/are posting tributes to the recent championship - as well as "Cheering" for MU as they recently won the NCAA Frisbee Golf Championship. (I almost wish we'da lost truthfully.)   They call it Waving the Wheat... Rock Chalk.. Proud...  MU folks might respond with some term including arrogance.  (Ye olde blog writer say "you no likey that, start your own blog" ha!)

The Rivalry is fun, tense, rabid, "and so is your old man" stuff.

Other schools demonstrate similar absence of love for their rival.  This ain't a new thing.  I no likey when someone offers something then includes "LOL" - I much prefer "You tell it, we'll decide if it's funny".....  BUT.... From 1896 (yes, that's how long stuff like this has been going on).... I find this pretty darn LOL, sorry:

1896.  The traditional mode of transportation for teams was the train. Georgia Tech was rolling down the tracks toward Auburn, AL to play Auburn University.  A team of Auburn pranksters, the night before the Big Game Day, greased the train tracks leading into, and out of the local station  When Georgia Tech rolled in, they tried screeching to a halt, but the halt wouldn't happen for a tad and the train literally went five miles past the Auburn station.  The long trek back to the station perhaps played a role in GT's team being tired, and, for losing 45-0 that day.

There ain't no love loss between The University of Texas and Texas A & M.  "Reckless fan behavior" happened in 1911 and the game was shelved for four years. Texas went to College Station that year and was walloped 13-0 by A&M.  The following year, two cowboys escorted a frightened steer to Austin. Texas's mascot had always been the Longhorns prior to the steer's arrival, but this was the first ever for the live mascot. Texas did come away with a victory on this day.  After the game, there was a plan to brand the steer with a T and the score from that day (21-7).  Protests of animal cruelty delayed the planned brand date to March 2, Texas Independence Day.  However, five A&M students traveled to Austin in February, broke into the pen at 3am and branded the steer '13-0', the score from when A&M won. There is some scuttlebutt over this, but it's said Texas folks changed the '13' to a 'B'..the dash to an 'E' and somehow branded a 'V' infronta the Zero, thus, BEVO the steer was named and branded.

1958.  UCLA students, via helicopter, prepared to drop a 500 pound ball of manure on USC's mascot, Tommy Trojan.  Turns out, funny ha ha, joke (and poop) on you.. as the rotors of the helicopter sucked most of the manure back into the helicopter, turning the UCLA lads into really 'crappy' and unfortunate perpetrators.

2004.  Harvard - Yale rivalry football game. A group of Yale students, posing as the fictitious Harvard pep squad, passed out cards and directions to fans under the guise of cheering for Harvard. Low and behold, when the Yale students (posing as Harvard pep squad leaders) gave the signal to raise the cards - their plan worked to perfection as the Harvard crowd complied, resulting in the humiliating message "We Suck".  Score one for the Bulldogs!

Stolen:  "A Missouri family of football supporters headed out one Saturday to do their Christmas shopping. While in the sports shop the son picks up a KU jersey and says to his older sister, "I've decided to become a Jayhawk fan and I would like this for Christmas".

His big sister is outraged by this and promptly whacks him round the head and says, "Go talk to mother". Off goes the little lad with the Jayhawk Jersey in hand and finds his mother.

"Mom?" "Yes son?" "I've decided I'm going to be a KU fan and I would like this jersey for Christmas". The mother is outraged at this, promptly whacks him around the head and says, "Go talk to your father!"

Off he goes with the KU Jersey in hand and finds his father. "Dad?" "Yes son?"   "I've decided I'm going to be a KU fan and I would like this jersey for Christmas". The father is outraged and promptly whacks his son around the head and says,  "No son of mine is ever going to be seen in THAT!"

About half an hour later they're all back in the car and heading towards home.  The father turns to his son and says "Son, I hope you've learned something today?" The son says, "Yes, Dad, I have." "Good son, what is it?"

To which the son replies, "I've only been a  Jayhawk fan for an hour and I already hate you Mizzou bastards."

How do you keep a KU girl from biting her nails?  Make her wear shoes.

What does it say on the bottom of Coke bottles in Kansas?  Open other end.

Ahhhhh the rivalry is back.  Pranksters from each team will somehow get actual phone numbers of players, coaches and call them ALL NIGHT LONG (talking 2am, 3am, 4am, etc) the eve of the game.

Proud......... Arrogant.

Rock Chalk....  MIZ-ZOU

By Henry Gibson...........   Forward by Wilt, Gale Sayers, George C Scott, Sam Walton and Max Scherzer 

Love, Victurd

When the teeters done tottered.......

Quite a few years ago I remember attending the visitation of an older friend - and I'd gone along with one of their best friends..  I remember the lady I was with saying, kinda matter of factly "the last of my very best friends."

Age, time can be a bastard.

Our local high school has an "All School Reunion" (for "the old HS") on The Square of our downtown, once every three years.  Our old high school became a Junior High in 1975 (or thereabouts) - so, to have graduated from "The Old High School" you would have had to have been Class of '74 or prior.  It's kinda cool how they do it - each of our individual classes has a cardboard Bluejay (our mascot) with the graduating year in big #'s on it and that's where your class gathers.  You go from the most recent graduating class (1974, with oodles of attendees) - all around the Square - and as the years go on, the numbers in attendance get smaller and smaller...  Finally, in the last corner of the Square, in a very small space there are all the Bluejay cutouts from the 30's and 40's.

Attrition happens.  Sucks.

We all have been touched by loss. If you are anywheres close to me in age (69), it's for certain we're noticing more and more and more "Oh damn, really?" as we lose yet another friend, loved one.

I saw an article that listed "7 key signs that a deceased loved one is with you." It's for certain there is much discourse on belief (or not) here - just as our land has discourse on politics, race, LGBT, religion, much.

That said - the seven this article suggested are:

Scents, fragrances and aromas.  Not sure your take, but this one hits home with me. This could be something like a cigarette (or a pipe, my father was a pipe smoker), a fresh loaf of bread, fried chicken, coffee, a baked apple pie within sensory distance - and many other aromas associated with a loved one. I think we generally keep these feelings, recollections within, but man is it a feel good.

Dreams of conversations with the deceased.  Again, this is probably a "nuh uh, never happens" or an "oh yeah, often."  There are times I find myself awakening wanting ever so badly to fall back asleep to visit more and more and more.

Butterflies. Or course, many will scoff - while others will nod in agreement that maybe the spirit of a loved one is taking on this temporary physical form.

Electrical interference.   I'll admit I've never thought of this - but understand many will attest to a flickering lamp or a light bulb going out as a spirit tapping into this energy.

Pet reactions.  It is written pets will often 'perk alert' when a spirit is present, or whine for no reason. Many report having these furry companions sensing the presence of a loved one.

Objects out of place. Keys appearing where a deceased loved one used to place them. A coin in our shoe - or on your laptop. Inexplicable and unreasonable, but maybe?

Music as a messenger of hope. Hearing their favorite song while you're at a restaurant - or, at the grocery store and someone starts humming that song.. in traffic - it comes on on the radio.  I dated a widow - and quite often, tears would fall from her face when similar happens.  It was a 'hurt good' feeling for her - and while I felt for her, I remained silent for her to have that feeling and was happy for her she did. Of course it's said, if we didn't/don't hurt, then there was never any feel.  BLESS FEEL. I believe in this.

To me, it feels so damn good to have a welcome jolt of a reminder of one now gone. We cannot keep them alive in the flesh - but we dadgum sure can keep them alive in the heart and in the mind.

This morning I had a feel good.  Crazy?  Probably.  A lady I was quite smitten with - gone now, but we had dated for some time.  She always had wanted to play pickle ball. So, I Amazon Primed a couple racquets and a ball - twas our first date - and we played.  As I was enroute this morning from the laptop to the coffee pot - I was forced to go by an entire wall of 'stuff' that I really need to downsize, clear out, toss - much. As I walked by, I saw the racquets amongst. Crazy maybe, but I grabbed one, held it for a short.

The day will come I will go to that wall where much of nothing is stored and thin it out.  I'll be damned if i will toss anything that gives me a feel good reminder of a loved one from yesterday.

Love, Victurd

I read the News today oh boy................

HOROSCOPE...... A day in your life, April... let's see... April 9, 2022...

ARIES (March 21-April 19)  Share your plans with someone you love. Being in sync with someone you want to spend more time with will help you devise a plan that brings you more closer. 2 Stars. (S'more):

You know, like women.  Women always share "I've gotta go pee." I'm not real sure why this is shared, but they must think it's important. Dependent on the time of day, you men, once the lady announces urination plans, state (share, stay in sync, get closer) "Honey could you bring me a beer on the way back?"

TAURUS (April 20 - May 20) Stay alert. It's easy to make a mistake when you let your emotions intervene. Sit tight, take care of odds and ends you left undone and prepare for what's to come. 4 stars. (S'more):

I really question why this is 4 stars. Stay alert, like maybe you're playing Monopoly. Don't let your emotions intervene to where you tip the damn board over, scattering hotels, motels, little cars and trains and of course the shoe and thimble. Since your Horoscope has bound you to the house, dust some, do the damn dishes, and take dinner outta the freezer to "prepare for what's to come." Have a nice day, don't pass Go, don't collect $200.

GEMINI (May 21 - June 20). Protect your assets,and don't let anyone talk you out of your hard earned cash. Stick to methods and people you know you can trust. 3 stars. (S'more):

Don't give the beggar at the intersection a dollar. Screw the extended car warranty. Do take the samples in the liquor department at the Piggly Wiggly, but remember, that stuff usually ain't on sale. Take a DD with you ("people you know and trust.") Hiccup.

CANCER (June 21- July 22)  Don't share personal information. Use your talents and time by engaging in something creative or inspirational. Put your best foot forward, and embrace life and relationships with passion. 3 stars. (S'more)

Change all your usernames, passwords, store 'em in the folder "For when I die", they'll never look until then. We're quite aware you don't have a creative or inspirational bone in your body, but go ahead and figure out which of your feet is the best, and give it a whirl anyways pretty lady, big fella. Embrace your relationship with passion, ie, "OK honey" is the operative when he/she places a hand somewhere naughty.

LEO (July 23 - August 22) Set standards and execute your plans. Refuse to get tied up in someone's pursuit. Be diligent about finishing what you start and exercising your right to do what makes you happy. 3 stars. (S'more):

We're aware you have really low standards, so we're mildly shocked you don't want someone to tie you up. Of course finish what you start, do what makes you happy, BUT, be sure to express your thanks, after all, you were conceived on Thanksgiving day.

VIRGO (August 23 - Sept 22) Help and the rewards will be satisfying. Pursue something out of the ordinary, and it will change the way you live and do things moving forward. 4 stars. (S'more)

Like maybe cook that chicken where mom says "Shake and bake" and the revolting snotnose screeches "And I helped".... Of course, try something out of the ordinary, but remember, horoscopes are mostly BS to sell newspapers and do you really think THIS DAY will change your life?..  Maybe at least your spouse might be a Cancer from above so you can get laid anyways.

LIBRA (Sept 23 - Oct 22) Take it easy, go over the facts and consider the best way to move forward. Don't take someone's word as gospel. Protect your reputation. 2 stars. (S'more):

It's Saturday, of course you're gonna take it easy, you don't have to move forward until Monday.  Don't take someone's word as gospel (like, maybe the horoscope writer.) Again, take it easy, don't tarnish your reputation any further.

SCORPIO (Oct 23 - Nov 21) Don't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. Discard what isn't working for you, distance yourself from people who drag you down.  5 stars (S'more)

I hope Tiger Wood's caddie ain't a Scorpio, that's a heavy bag. Horoscope writer hungover. Distance yourself from people who drag you down is 5 stars? Use this horoscope as paper to light under the kindling when you start a fire today, screw him/her, the horoscope writer.

SAGITTARIUS (Nov 22 - Dec 21) Dedication and loyalty reign supreme. Refuse to get caught up in someone's lies or give in to manipulation. Protect your assets. 3 stars. (S'more):

Kiss your mate, pet your dog, or, the other way around if you prefer. Go ahead and give into manipulation if it's in the form of a massage as your ass sets. It's OK to be spoiled for your entire life you've gotten Birthday presents wrapped in Christmas paper. To hell with 3 stars, make it a 5.

(Blog writer wish year only had ten months, this is getting harder and harder, kinda makes the admonishments make sense.)

CAPRICORN (Dec 22 - Jan 19) Listen, but don't retaliate. You have time to think and discover what it is you want before you indulge in someone's fantasy. 3 stars (S'more)

I digress.  If you're gonna be on the receiving end of someone's fantasy, hell to the yeah it's gonna be a 5 star day. Go ahead and retaliate against the horoscope writer by cutting out this horoscope, placing it on your belly button, and cover it in chocolate. Fantasy that, not 3 stars.

AQUARIUS (Jan 20 - Feb 18)  Think about what you want to do next, and set your plan in motion. Changing how you earn your living will help put your mind at ease and give you hope. Put your heart and soul into your dreams. 3 stars.

But of course.  It's Saturday.  Redo your resume', put it on Indeed, and by Monday you'll have a job making $20K more than what you are. Set your booty back to the motion of going back to your job on Monday, continuing to contribute to your IRA. Rome wasn't built in a day, horoscope writer have too much vino.

FINALLY.........

PISCES (Feb 19 - March 20) Get out and participate in something that makes you want to make a lifestyle change.  Making plans will give you something to look forward to.  5 stars. (S'more)

Pollyanna hasn't left the building. I mean, how can many of you PISCES have anything to look forward to when you have a Birthday only once every four years?  I vote 'do anything you damn well please.' That's gotta put you closer to 5 stars than wishin' and hopin' and prayin' and thinkin'.

Blogger's finito note:

Do you believe in magic in a young girl's (or guy's) heart?
How the music can free her whenever it starts
And it's magic if the music is groovy
It makes you feel happy like an old-time movie
I'll tell you about the magic, and it'll free your soul
But it's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout a rock 'n' roll

But....... if it walks like a horoscoper and talks like a horoscoper it's prolly on quack.

NO ONE above had only 1 star. HELLO?  Ever have a bad day? Ever eat a pine tree?  FOUR, count 'em, FOUR outta twelve above had 5 stars.  That's 33%.  Pardon ma' French but were you aware only 4% of the population have amor daily?

Tune in tomorrow when one of you, maybe, will have a lifestyle change, make boo koo more bucks, be creative, in sync, discover your dreams, and......... be one of the 4%.

Thank your lucky stars if so......

By Henry Gibson                Forward by Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Galileo, Figaro -                                                   manificoo

Love, with chocolate on top, Victurd

Hope Springs Eternal.......

Every year, teams bound across the land from Arizona and Florida - fans everywhere think "This will be our year."

Everywhere but some places I guess... I've told this before - still love the story, sharing again, sorry.  Kinda. Back when the Mets really really stunk.  Opening Day.  Right after the first pitch - fan in right field unfurls a banner "Wait until next year!"

In KC, our excitement oozes.  Years of 100 loss seasons, sandwiched around two World Series trips - lends us a buncha high draft pics, expectations out the ying-yang (I've always wondered... just where is the ying-yang?)...

Anyways, here's your "you prolly ain't gonna read this in the KC Star" introduction of the Kansas City Royals, version 2022:

They call me 'Benny Biceps'. I'm from Ohio...and I guess I had a pretty good Senior year.. I batted .564 with 12 homers, 38 stolen bases and I was named the ABCA/Rawlings National High School player of the year - Oh, and I played a little hoop, averaging 25.5 points a game en route to Division III co-player of the year. Went to Arkansas. Arkansas Arkansas, I just love ole Arkansas.  First round draft choice of the Red Sox.  Now, I'm Missouri through and through, moved to St. Louie, huge St. Louis Blues fan.  Go Royals! (Andrew Benintendi)

I took and use the "A" when listing my name, cause my dad's name is Anthony (mine too). They say I have good plate discipline, but that's prolly because of the discipline I got growing up - you see, we were a Military family, as in 22 years of it. I went to college at Westminster Academy (Fort Lauderdale, FL) where I was a shortstop.  Hey, Mondi gets hurt, Lopez, Witt, I'm ready to step in!  I played for the Nationals for five seasons, then they designated me for assignment.  SO, I came here, to KC. Ha, howabout a Golden Glove last year!  I am Michael A. Taylor.  Go Royals.

Sweet Caroline(A).. Grew up in North Carolina. Went to college at South Carolina. I was OK I guess, batted .329, then .389., then .489, oh, and in my very last college game, I hit a walk off single in the 11th inning, propelling us, South Carolina, to THE National College World Series Championship! I'm living a dream, oh, and I guess my dad's dream too.  You see, he played a little ball too.. In fact, in September of 1987 he was called up to the Majors for the Pittsburgh Pirates, but NEVER got to step on the field.. Dangit!  So, a lotta games I get two hits, one for me, one for dad.  That's why they call me "Two Hit Whit".  I'm Whit Merrifield.  Go Royals!~

You've got to change your evil ways, baby, and think of me, the baseball player, not that Oye Como Va guy. I'm from the Dominican where I am known as "Slamtana." I've got a pretty good eye (and bat) at the plate.  Every year since 2011 (except for the Covid shortened year in 2020) I've hit 18 or more homers and been in the top four in the league in bases on balls. My mom and dad got divorced when I was 15. I've got four sisters, so I reckon I was the man of the house and a father figure to my sisters.  I signed with the Dodgers in 2005 and first thing I did was bought my momma a house.  Hi, I'm, not the singing Oye Como Va Santana, I'm the baseball Carlos Santana.  Go Royals!

Played my high school ball in Naperville, Illinois.. .Went to Creighton for three years, then, the Royals drafted me in the 5th round in 2016.  I FINALLY made it to the Bigs in 2020.  I admittedly struggled at the plate, in fact I had the worst slugging percentage of all Major League hitters, BUT, I was nominated for a Gold Glove.  In 2021, the Royals brought Jarrod Dyson back.  I was wearing his old number 1, so, I switched to #8 so he could wear #1. That's what speed, and being a veteran do.  I was smackin the ball in Spring Training last year. Things looked good, then, right before the season, they sent me to AAA Omaha. Dang the luck.  BUT, Mondi got hurt, they called me back up, played Shortstop and darn if I didn't become the First Kansas City Royal shortstop to bat .300+!  Oh, and I led all American League shortstops in fielding percentage at  .987.  Hi, I'm Nicky Lopez, Go Royals!

Don't you know that it, it hurts so bad....... I was born in LA where my dad Raul played for the Dodgers, but I grew up in the Dominican. I signed with KC in 2011, and, maybe ya missed it, but I became the first ever Major Leaguer to make a debut in the World Series, yep, me in 2015.  I've had me some injury problems, but, 'we ready' now.  I was Country (ie, 5 tool player) before Country (B. Witt Jr) was cool. Watch me now.  I'm back at short.  Got some wham with my bam. I know, I know, it's the Show Me State.  Stick around and see.  I'm the artist formally known as Prince. No, that ain't it, hang on. See, for the first few years I went by Raul, but, that name is mine but really belongs to my dad the Major Leaguer, SO now I go by my Middle name, Adalberto. Hi, I'm Raul Adalberto Mondesi.  Go Royals!

I have no trouble Witt remembering how old I am, see, cause I was born in 2000. Makes it easy. I think there have been expectations of me for awhile now. In fact, they had me in a baseball 'onesie' outfit that year.  My dad too, played in the Bigs, for like 16 seasons. Them eyeballs been on me awhile now, yeah, in part because of my dad's big league career.  As a Junior in High School I batted .446 and, won the High School Home Run Derby contest at the National's field. I also played in the Under Armor All-American Baseball game at Wrigley Field. The ivy was kinda cool, in fact, i hit one over the ivy, so, they named me MVP of the whole thing,  In 2019, I was THE #2 pick overall in the baseball draft. Not my words, but those of Dayton Moore - he says I'm a five tool player, but to top it off, again, his words, he says I'm an even better person.  I like it here. I wanna stick around and have some parades. There's only one Whitt, he was here first, and he's established, but, I'm Bobby Witt Jr, nice to meetya.  I'll be at third. Go Royals.

I'm back!  First, let's get the names straight.  Did you know my first name is Donald? Betya can't spell my middle name correctly the first time. (It's Zachary.) Oh boy, where to start. Well, I too was the National Gatorade Player of the year (2002) so, the Royals took me with the 6th overall pick in the draft that year. There were some admitted hitches in the getalong to my career.  Depression. Anxiety. Hey, I'm not afraid to say it. i speak however I feel.  Come 2009, I had it all under control baby - in fact, I won the Cy Young Award, right here in KC! I'd like to think I kinda sorta helped the Royals win the World Series, 'cause, they traded me to Milwaukee for Lorenzo Cain and Esky.  They also got Jake Odorrizi in the trade, and he was in part of the trade to Tampa that brought James Shields and some guy named Wade Davis here.  Hear of any of them?  Oh, and the Brewers got Yuniesky, whoever he was.  I've had 6 stops since I was last in KC, and along the way I've accumulated 6 All Star trips, 6 Gold Gloves, led the ML in ERA twice, oh, and I hit pretty well too, as I was named the Silver Slugger (twice) as the Best Hitting Pitcher. Tom Brady ain't got nuttin on me, you see, as I met my sweetie in High School, since, she's been a Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader AND she was named Miss Daytona Beach USA! Come on Royals, let's go all the way.  I'm Zack Greinke, glad to be back. Go Royals!

Hello my friend, let's have a Gatorade. I have four names.  There will be a pop quiz at the end and I bet you can't name all four. I was born in Venezuela.  My father left us when I was 4. I went with mom and we moved in with my granny. Mom supported us by making and selling homemade cakes, flan and lasagna. I loves me somea my mom's food! When I was a kid, I pitched and played short.  I played with and against that short dude for the Astros, Altuve.  Come 14, I wanted to play catcher, and nothing else. Most kids get their driver's license at age 16, I got my contract with the Royals when I was 16.  Moved to Arizona. It was kinda scary, but I think my quick smile and good nature helped me along the way.  You've seen me here for awhile now.  If I ain't smackin' homers, throwing some guy out at second, dousing the player of the game with Gatorade, it's a safe bet I'm at Price Chopper making a commercial. OK, so I guess if I had to brag, 7 All Star trips, A World Series Championship (Oh, and I was the MVP), I've won 5 Gold Gloves, 4 Silver Slugger Awards, had me some Tommy John surgery, sat out 2019, was the Comeback Player of the year in 2020, and I lit it up in 2021, tying the team record in Homers with 48, not to mention that was THE MOST EVER by a 'primary' catcher. Not bad eh? I bet you didn't know, in 2014, Esky sprayed some Victoria's Secret cologne on me and said "You're gonna get 4 hits". So, I did. Wore that cologne a few more times! It's been 7 years, I'm ready for another parade. Hi, I'm Salvy.  Or, for the pop quiz, Salvador Johan Perez Diaz. I ain't sure what the Royal's catch phrase is this year, I just wanna help all of our wonderful young arms and get us back to the Series so we can have another parade.  Have a good day my friend. Go Royals. 

I'll get outta here.  Enjoy the season. I hate having to pay for Bally's TV, but... all in all it's worth it. Hope Springs Eternal, especially this year.  We're at Witt's end (or is that Whitt's end) for another parade.

"If you're not in the parade, you watch the parade. That's life."  Mike Ditka

Mayor Lucas, my friend. Hope Springs Eternal.  Save us a spot for the parade this coming October.

By Henry Bob Josh Gibson               Forward by Ken Burns, Ty Cobb and George Brett

Love, Victurd