Ain't it wonderful? After months and months of coming in from outside to stand in the way of the fan - or, to catch a snippet of AC... it's a tremendous feeling to "want" a jacket.
Life's cycle continues... Clockwork... Why is it, as our eyes age and become weeker we simultaneously become more attuned and appreciative of such changes? Ya think it's because we know that day where we won't be able to do all that is beckoning? Eh, I dunno.
It's probably only because we know winter is not far behind and we better suckup the good days whilst we can. I always wanted Florida. Something about a decorated palm tree just doesn't ring true for Christmas though.. Two piece binkini's in the Piggly Wiggly - yes... Illuminated coconuts - no. Give and take huh?
So, I'm gonna let them eyeballs feast on the changing of the trees... The football lights in the distance... Finding the jacket from last year and seeing if it still grades out on today's style... Folding and putting away shorts to a place I'll remember come May... wondering if my 36" waist will still fit in them the next time. Wouldn't it be great to HAVE to buy new 34" ones next year? Yeah, right.
Daylight Savings coming to an end. Shit. Dark is depressing. Unless of course there are two to share dark. Mebbe that's why so many babies are conceived during this time.. Kinda bassackwards to athletics. When you're young, you smooch and bear the fruit of a snotnose. IE, you practice, then you have the real game. When your older, you push 'the real game' out of the nest, then you practice! Hooray for practice. Why does 98.6 + 98.6 feel warmer?
Work beckons. Shit. Nah, I actually love work. Been the constant in my life for the last few years. Now, adding ingredients to that recipe of life. Even though I can't cook worth a crap - I'm enjoying the meal!
Have fun with your life cycle. Stick your tongue out at the little things and gasp and record the wonderful things. Save room for dessert too. Happy day.
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Monday, September 19, 2005
"Throw 'em in the River"
Circa the "Animal House" years... oh, roughly 1974... Twelve of us, "Alligator snap-snap" fraternity buds... The Alligator snap-snap came from one of my airline buddies and I think it inferred "uppity, rich, and arrogant." HA, whilst it was an expensive college - 80% of us were on financial aid...
Anyways, us twelve heathens decided to have a cold one... so, we grabbed the one fraternity brother that actually was 21, piled into an old cargo van and headed for the River.. Good times, great stories, brothers.
Long about the fourth beer, shit, up pulls the local Sugar Creek Police... There we were, twelve of us, tossing beer after full beer into the river... Our van was now empty, no evidence. The bright bright light shining into our eyes - we were lined up in a row for Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane and Enos to interrogate us...
"HOW OLD ARE YOU?" Roscoe scoldingly looked at the unlucky first brother in line... "21 Sir."... Moving to his right "HOW OLD ARE YOU?"... "Ahm, 22 Sir."... Further down "AND YOU?" "21 sir.".. and thru the twelve, we spouted back "21 Sir".. "21 Sir"... "22 Sir"... etc.. until the last brother recited his purported age... I'm certain 80% of us had fake ID's justifying our answers.. but Roscoe and Enos didn't ask...
Turning away.. and walking back to his car Roscoe stopped and said "THEN WHATINTHEHELL ARE YOU DOING THROWING AWAY ALL THAT GOOD BEER?"... with that, he and Enos hooted and hawed their way back down the road.. surely eager to get back to the station to fill their brethren in on our story... Oh well, 36 beers tossed into the River is still a lot better than a minor in possession charge.. Pride is hard to swallow but it will go down...
----------------------------------------------------
Son's 13-14 year old Little League team. We were average, in a very very good league... The perennial League Champs whomped up on us EVERY time we played - no matter how well we played. Wouldn't have been so bad 'ceptin for their idiotic chant that always ended "throw 'em in the River" -> referring to us, the Yankees, their opponent. Disgust - and it made you want to kick their booty but our talent prevented us from doing so... Year after year, they threw us in the River.
----------------------------------------------------
Match.com. The very last sentence on my stupid little "advertisement" (or profile, whichever you wanna call it) said "and if I find 'HER', I will throw this thing in the River. (This being the computer.).... I pray, I hope I don't screw this up, because 'HER' is here. In the flesh. Gorgeous gorgeous "Gracie".. (Her nickname).. It's frankly all good - and it's like we've been on a one month date... I know that's drippy and sappy, but tis true. I ain't gonna toss the computer in the River - but thank goodness I'm done with Match.com and the seemingly never ending quest for a mate.
---------------------------------------------------
Drove by that park at the River yesterday... Oh so many great memories of the past.. yet, all the focus for me was today and tomorrow... I like the River...
Anyways, us twelve heathens decided to have a cold one... so, we grabbed the one fraternity brother that actually was 21, piled into an old cargo van and headed for the River.. Good times, great stories, brothers.
Long about the fourth beer, shit, up pulls the local Sugar Creek Police... There we were, twelve of us, tossing beer after full beer into the river... Our van was now empty, no evidence. The bright bright light shining into our eyes - we were lined up in a row for Sheriff Roscoe P. Coltrane and Enos to interrogate us...
"HOW OLD ARE YOU?" Roscoe scoldingly looked at the unlucky first brother in line... "21 Sir."... Moving to his right "HOW OLD ARE YOU?"... "Ahm, 22 Sir."... Further down "AND YOU?" "21 sir.".. and thru the twelve, we spouted back "21 Sir".. "21 Sir"... "22 Sir"... etc.. until the last brother recited his purported age... I'm certain 80% of us had fake ID's justifying our answers.. but Roscoe and Enos didn't ask...
Turning away.. and walking back to his car Roscoe stopped and said "THEN WHATINTHEHELL ARE YOU DOING THROWING AWAY ALL THAT GOOD BEER?"... with that, he and Enos hooted and hawed their way back down the road.. surely eager to get back to the station to fill their brethren in on our story... Oh well, 36 beers tossed into the River is still a lot better than a minor in possession charge.. Pride is hard to swallow but it will go down...
----------------------------------------------------
Son's 13-14 year old Little League team. We were average, in a very very good league... The perennial League Champs whomped up on us EVERY time we played - no matter how well we played. Wouldn't have been so bad 'ceptin for their idiotic chant that always ended "throw 'em in the River" -> referring to us, the Yankees, their opponent. Disgust - and it made you want to kick their booty but our talent prevented us from doing so... Year after year, they threw us in the River.
----------------------------------------------------
Match.com. The very last sentence on my stupid little "advertisement" (or profile, whichever you wanna call it) said "and if I find 'HER', I will throw this thing in the River. (This being the computer.).... I pray, I hope I don't screw this up, because 'HER' is here. In the flesh. Gorgeous gorgeous "Gracie".. (Her nickname).. It's frankly all good - and it's like we've been on a one month date... I know that's drippy and sappy, but tis true. I ain't gonna toss the computer in the River - but thank goodness I'm done with Match.com and the seemingly never ending quest for a mate.
---------------------------------------------------
Drove by that park at the River yesterday... Oh so many great memories of the past.. yet, all the focus for me was today and tomorrow... I like the River...
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Say "Unique New York" three times.. REAL fast..
Ok, sorry..... that was stupid. Hi. Sorry I've been a recluse. Been on a long date... A wonderful date... Mode now is to not worry about tomorrow, and live/love today.
Strength and courage - how do we derive that? It's already in there... all we gotta do is believe/acknowledge... I know in the past I've struggled with self confidence.. Ya hear women like "confident, but not cocky, men".. Hopefully gaining in that... I am me. Always will be. Doesn't mean I can't try to better me - but I am what I am.
Please know all has been good. I'm sorry you've looked here and there's been nothing new written for some time... Believe me, there's been a lotta great conversation, great times... Dunno when I will write again, but I will. It's a part of who I am - and as long as my fingers work well - I intend to write - be it to one, or none, or maybe just to me.
Hope your lives are going well and that you appreciate sunrises, sunsets, puppies running, a coworkers new outfit, an act from a significant other, the beat of the sound coming from the radio, the bright eyes of a child... all the good things. Too oft we take them for granted. Not anymore.. at least for me.
Happy day, Victor
Strength and courage - how do we derive that? It's already in there... all we gotta do is believe/acknowledge... I know in the past I've struggled with self confidence.. Ya hear women like "confident, but not cocky, men".. Hopefully gaining in that... I am me. Always will be. Doesn't mean I can't try to better me - but I am what I am.
Please know all has been good. I'm sorry you've looked here and there's been nothing new written for some time... Believe me, there's been a lotta great conversation, great times... Dunno when I will write again, but I will. It's a part of who I am - and as long as my fingers work well - I intend to write - be it to one, or none, or maybe just to me.
Hope your lives are going well and that you appreciate sunrises, sunsets, puppies running, a coworkers new outfit, an act from a significant other, the beat of the sound coming from the radio, the bright eyes of a child... all the good things. Too oft we take them for granted. Not anymore.. at least for me.
Happy day, Victor
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Smiles.......
Death is horrible, and eventual. This weekend I was with Debbie when her father passed. Eight children - all united in love to this man. Tears, stories, memories, items of days past throughout the house treasured... Each child uniquely dealing with his death in their own way - mostly through tears - but all with smiles later.
Me being the only one left in my own nuclear family - I love it when people conjure up memories of my mother, my father, my sister. It's always done with a smile. Pretty friggin' good when you stop and think about it.. Sadly, some leave this earth and haven't left reason for those remaining to smile.
I didn't know Debbie's father all that well - but I know tons more of him now - and he's all about smiles. The smiles he passed down to his children are being returned tenfold. The ultimate tribute - being gone and remembered with smiles. He is.
Me being the only one left in my own nuclear family - I love it when people conjure up memories of my mother, my father, my sister. It's always done with a smile. Pretty friggin' good when you stop and think about it.. Sadly, some leave this earth and haven't left reason for those remaining to smile.
I didn't know Debbie's father all that well - but I know tons more of him now - and he's all about smiles. The smiles he passed down to his children are being returned tenfold. The ultimate tribute - being gone and remembered with smiles. He is.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Oh how juvenile....
Yeah... at the time we were - but we had one helluva lotta fun..
Animal House - The "reality" series. Circa mid-1970's, Billy Jewell College. Four fraternities on campus. The fags (sorry guys)with the pretty cars mom & dad bought for them.. the Eastern/St. Louie guys... The goody two-shoes.. and us, the Sigma Nu's...
The Sigma Nu's were a great/rotten bunch of guys... We were, completely immature. But ---- we had a fantastic bond. Moreso than any athletic team I'd ever played upon.. Damn near family. Virtually everyone was a jock - but with a little stoner/wildchild thrown in..
The Pledge. Lower than white whale shit at the deepest part of the ocean we were(or so they said.) There was rush... pledging.. then the transitionary period between pledge and active: Hell Week.
Yes.. on campus's throughout the land there were casualties to hazing - but our hazing was brutally fun, tremendously brothern enriching, and yes, pure hell.
One week, 24/7. First, we got to swing by the local Co-op to purchase our very own burlap sack... Holes cut for sleeves.. this was to be our 'undergarmet' for the week. That and a jock strap during the 'fun' evening hours of 7pm to 10pm.. We sly ones learned the ole handed down "wash the burlap sack in Downy and it won't be as irritating" so we did.
Another 'fixture' to our week was a string and a pencil. Attached to one end of the string was to be your penis.. and the string was to be fed up under your gunny sack, coming out your neckline with a maximum of 5" of string exposed. You had one week to obtain 100 female signatures. Of course the first day we went along with it.. probably got purple penis's I don't remember.. then, we got smart and insteada tying one end to the pee pee, we'd find a belt loop or buckle to tie it to. Gals would teasingly yank on the pencil as they penned their names.. reckon it hurt more the first day...
Sleep. We got the mandatory two hours of daily sleep from 5pm to 7pm nightly. Anyone caught sleeping any other hour of the week would be in big 'do-do'. We eventually would find backseats, nooks and crannies around campus to catch some Z's.. and watch each other's backs..
7pm. Shit. Time for hell. We were awoken by 40+ actives pounding skillets, pots, pans with heavy silverware.. Up we arose, clad only in our gunny sack and jock strap.
"Fun" and games... There was always an agenda... and it become more challenging as the week went along... One of the first tasks was to save a carp from the toilet stool and give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Much like the current reality show where they do such yuck things.. I guess we were Reality when Reality wasn't cool. Carp saved, patooey, next diddy on the agenda...
One night they even fed us a beer. The actives come carrying in a full case of heavenly cold bottles of Michelob.. we were licking our chops.. Turns out, the Michelob was for them.. WE got hot "Katz" beer. (The old local drugstore's own.. 10 for $1, and ours were HOT, not cold.) Patooey.
To the kitchen, one pledge at a time. You were told to stand on a folding chair - approximately 20 inches off the floor. Then you were shown a 16" string attached to a huge cinder block. Yes, another string tying thing to the penis thing.. The goal was to tie one end to the penis, hold the block in your arms - then let go of it to the ground - kissing your ass goodbye to your penis. Ok, shown the short string.. Then blindfolded - then handed the string to tie up. There we stood, one at a time on the chair - debating whether to give up our manhood for a frigging fraternity. "We all did it.. now you gotta." Shit. Ok, so.. cinder block in hands held out over the chair - the shouting began "LEGGO OF IT!!! NOWWWWW!!!!!"...
Gulp. Did let go, actually bent at my knees hoping the four inch difference would help preserve my penis - and keep it from getting snapped off. I heard the cinder block hit the floor - and my pee pee was AOK. Whatsup with that? Well.. once blindfolded, they exchanged the short string for a very long one so as your pee pee wouldn't get yanked off.. the bastards... The mental test of a lifetime..
Annuder time we were back in the kitchen.. upon the chair.. again to be blindfolded... Serenaded with broken glass in pots and pans - this challenge was to jump off of the chair into a pile of broken glass slivers... Uh huh, sure. But, if ya wanted to be a Sigma Nu, ya hadta. Yes immature, yes an extreme mental challenge, yes all ultimately fun. Ok, so.. as you stood upon the stool Stinger said "NO.. WE'RE NOT MAKING THEM DO THIS ONE... REMEMBER, LAST YEAR ROGER HAD TO GET 42 STITCHES." Shit. "YES, they ARE going to do it.. WE DID IT, and that's ALL THERE IS TO IT."
Upon the chair... "GOOOOOO!!!! JUMPPP NOWWWWWWW!!!!"..... Gulp. Jumped. The landing was terrifying.. You felt the glass.. you took off the blindfold.. you wondered if your feet would be the same ever again... there they were - covered with blood.. EXCEPT. The gag was - it was corn flakes (not glass) you landed in.. and it was intermixed with ketchup. Yes, a stupid test, but a mental/emotional challenge.
By doing all this sophomoric crap - a bond was created amongst your pledge class.. and the next year you would be the ones handing down tradition.
To many, all of the above is repulsive, childish, cruel and senseless. Sorry. To me it was priceless. Those years were some of the best years of my life. I'd do anything for those guys, and vice versa. Like truly standing up for a family member.
We made it thru the week.. and the prize was getting to enter the Active Chapter Room - an "off limits" place for us pledges... We imagined it to have golden mirrors, fancy ritzy furniture, and swank carpet. Sadly, we were about as disillusioned as ole Ralphie and his "drink more Ovaltine" decoder. It was a room with shag carpet - and the seal of Sigma Nu was painted on the ceiling. We did all that for that? Yes, yes we did.
But again... the lifelong bonds made and the passing of 'extreme' tests seemingly made you feel like you could handle anything in life. Sure the Deans woulda booted us out had they known what went on.. We loved it.. Katz Beer and all. High rickety-whoop-tee-do, what's the matter with Sig-a Ma-nu.. Terra ga who, hullabaloo, all together for Siga-Ma-Nu. Fun, fun days.
Animal House - The "reality" series. Circa mid-1970's, Billy Jewell College. Four fraternities on campus. The fags (sorry guys)with the pretty cars mom & dad bought for them.. the Eastern/St. Louie guys... The goody two-shoes.. and us, the Sigma Nu's...
The Sigma Nu's were a great/rotten bunch of guys... We were, completely immature. But ---- we had a fantastic bond. Moreso than any athletic team I'd ever played upon.. Damn near family. Virtually everyone was a jock - but with a little stoner/wildchild thrown in..
The Pledge. Lower than white whale shit at the deepest part of the ocean we were(or so they said.) There was rush... pledging.. then the transitionary period between pledge and active: Hell Week.
Yes.. on campus's throughout the land there were casualties to hazing - but our hazing was brutally fun, tremendously brothern enriching, and yes, pure hell.
One week, 24/7. First, we got to swing by the local Co-op to purchase our very own burlap sack... Holes cut for sleeves.. this was to be our 'undergarmet' for the week. That and a jock strap during the 'fun' evening hours of 7pm to 10pm.. We sly ones learned the ole handed down "wash the burlap sack in Downy and it won't be as irritating" so we did.
Another 'fixture' to our week was a string and a pencil. Attached to one end of the string was to be your penis.. and the string was to be fed up under your gunny sack, coming out your neckline with a maximum of 5" of string exposed. You had one week to obtain 100 female signatures. Of course the first day we went along with it.. probably got purple penis's I don't remember.. then, we got smart and insteada tying one end to the pee pee, we'd find a belt loop or buckle to tie it to. Gals would teasingly yank on the pencil as they penned their names.. reckon it hurt more the first day...
Sleep. We got the mandatory two hours of daily sleep from 5pm to 7pm nightly. Anyone caught sleeping any other hour of the week would be in big 'do-do'. We eventually would find backseats, nooks and crannies around campus to catch some Z's.. and watch each other's backs..
7pm. Shit. Time for hell. We were awoken by 40+ actives pounding skillets, pots, pans with heavy silverware.. Up we arose, clad only in our gunny sack and jock strap.
"Fun" and games... There was always an agenda... and it become more challenging as the week went along... One of the first tasks was to save a carp from the toilet stool and give him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Much like the current reality show where they do such yuck things.. I guess we were Reality when Reality wasn't cool. Carp saved, patooey, next diddy on the agenda...
One night they even fed us a beer. The actives come carrying in a full case of heavenly cold bottles of Michelob.. we were licking our chops.. Turns out, the Michelob was for them.. WE got hot "Katz" beer. (The old local drugstore's own.. 10 for $1, and ours were HOT, not cold.) Patooey.
To the kitchen, one pledge at a time. You were told to stand on a folding chair - approximately 20 inches off the floor. Then you were shown a 16" string attached to a huge cinder block. Yes, another string tying thing to the penis thing.. The goal was to tie one end to the penis, hold the block in your arms - then let go of it to the ground - kissing your ass goodbye to your penis. Ok, shown the short string.. Then blindfolded - then handed the string to tie up. There we stood, one at a time on the chair - debating whether to give up our manhood for a frigging fraternity. "We all did it.. now you gotta." Shit. Ok, so.. cinder block in hands held out over the chair - the shouting began "LEGGO OF IT!!! NOWWWWW!!!!!"...
Gulp. Did let go, actually bent at my knees hoping the four inch difference would help preserve my penis - and keep it from getting snapped off. I heard the cinder block hit the floor - and my pee pee was AOK. Whatsup with that? Well.. once blindfolded, they exchanged the short string for a very long one so as your pee pee wouldn't get yanked off.. the bastards... The mental test of a lifetime..
Annuder time we were back in the kitchen.. upon the chair.. again to be blindfolded... Serenaded with broken glass in pots and pans - this challenge was to jump off of the chair into a pile of broken glass slivers... Uh huh, sure. But, if ya wanted to be a Sigma Nu, ya hadta. Yes immature, yes an extreme mental challenge, yes all ultimately fun. Ok, so.. as you stood upon the stool Stinger said "NO.. WE'RE NOT MAKING THEM DO THIS ONE... REMEMBER, LAST YEAR ROGER HAD TO GET 42 STITCHES." Shit. "YES, they ARE going to do it.. WE DID IT, and that's ALL THERE IS TO IT."
Upon the chair... "GOOOOOO!!!! JUMPPP NOWWWWWWW!!!!"..... Gulp. Jumped. The landing was terrifying.. You felt the glass.. you took off the blindfold.. you wondered if your feet would be the same ever again... there they were - covered with blood.. EXCEPT. The gag was - it was corn flakes (not glass) you landed in.. and it was intermixed with ketchup. Yes, a stupid test, but a mental/emotional challenge.
By doing all this sophomoric crap - a bond was created amongst your pledge class.. and the next year you would be the ones handing down tradition.
To many, all of the above is repulsive, childish, cruel and senseless. Sorry. To me it was priceless. Those years were some of the best years of my life. I'd do anything for those guys, and vice versa. Like truly standing up for a family member.
We made it thru the week.. and the prize was getting to enter the Active Chapter Room - an "off limits" place for us pledges... We imagined it to have golden mirrors, fancy ritzy furniture, and swank carpet. Sadly, we were about as disillusioned as ole Ralphie and his "drink more Ovaltine" decoder. It was a room with shag carpet - and the seal of Sigma Nu was painted on the ceiling. We did all that for that? Yes, yes we did.
But again... the lifelong bonds made and the passing of 'extreme' tests seemingly made you feel like you could handle anything in life. Sure the Deans woulda booted us out had they known what went on.. We loved it.. Katz Beer and all. High rickety-whoop-tee-do, what's the matter with Sig-a Ma-nu.. Terra ga who, hullabaloo, all together for Siga-Ma-Nu. Fun, fun days.
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Peace
What a powerful word. Our lives hinge around it. We live in our culdesacs, farm houses, high rises in peace because of the men and women who've protected we have that assurance..
Peace will happen again in New Orleans. Hopefully peace will reign again in Iraq. We mold that, and proliferate it..
Every waking moment is all about peace. Not just the peace that provides us the freedom to mostly do and say as we feel - but inner peace. THAT'S a humongous one.
When my mother passed away, while it was sudden - there was peace. I was at peace for the recipricol loving relationship we'd cherished over the years. We each had a great appreciation and love of the other...
Every phone call we make, every interaction with whomever - the bottomline is 'was there peace'? Yes, we can disagree, yes we can argue, yes we can be upset, yes we can say things we regret (and hopefully undo later)... It's all about peace. We are human, not perfect. Those imperfections and the acknowledgment of it within ourselves and within those we relate with help formulate peace...
Yes, there've been some engagements where I've not been proud of the ending - and peace could have been established earlier - but again, human, not perfect, but human.
There are lucky relationships where peace flows so freely... Yes, it's said "don't get too high on the highs, nor too low on the lows" - but there are moments we need to stop and reflect - and yes, perhaps gloat about the bond of peace with an individual that's played a major, major role in our lives..
My stepson, whom I love dearly and has taught me so much over the years - ends every phone call with "peace." Perhaps I'm biased - and I use the word only for impact, but I believe that to be far fucking out.
While I'm not a member of any designated religion - for many years I attended Catholic services... I truly cherished those moments where we were asked to stop and extend "peace be with you" to those surrounding us.
Peace is all about fears, cheers and tears.. Yesterday, as I walked thru a hospital hallway - an infant, perhaps one and one-half years old - waved to me from her father's arms. We're born with peace - thankfully the vast majority care and strive for peace. We'll not allow others to impede our way.
Thanks to those who read - it brings me peace that you do... Compliments to those who live with peace within their relationships and those that surround them. The eyes close easier at night when there's peace.
Those awesome words: passion, love and feel. They're all about peace. Powerful, spine tingling, earth shattering.
We are so, so lucky to have peace within our lives - and should be so so proud to have lived a life of peace.
Love,
Victor
Peace will happen again in New Orleans. Hopefully peace will reign again in Iraq. We mold that, and proliferate it..
Every waking moment is all about peace. Not just the peace that provides us the freedom to mostly do and say as we feel - but inner peace. THAT'S a humongous one.
When my mother passed away, while it was sudden - there was peace. I was at peace for the recipricol loving relationship we'd cherished over the years. We each had a great appreciation and love of the other...
Every phone call we make, every interaction with whomever - the bottomline is 'was there peace'? Yes, we can disagree, yes we can argue, yes we can be upset, yes we can say things we regret (and hopefully undo later)... It's all about peace. We are human, not perfect. Those imperfections and the acknowledgment of it within ourselves and within those we relate with help formulate peace...
Yes, there've been some engagements where I've not been proud of the ending - and peace could have been established earlier - but again, human, not perfect, but human.
There are lucky relationships where peace flows so freely... Yes, it's said "don't get too high on the highs, nor too low on the lows" - but there are moments we need to stop and reflect - and yes, perhaps gloat about the bond of peace with an individual that's played a major, major role in our lives..
My stepson, whom I love dearly and has taught me so much over the years - ends every phone call with "peace." Perhaps I'm biased - and I use the word only for impact, but I believe that to be far fucking out.
While I'm not a member of any designated religion - for many years I attended Catholic services... I truly cherished those moments where we were asked to stop and extend "peace be with you" to those surrounding us.
Peace is all about fears, cheers and tears.. Yesterday, as I walked thru a hospital hallway - an infant, perhaps one and one-half years old - waved to me from her father's arms. We're born with peace - thankfully the vast majority care and strive for peace. We'll not allow others to impede our way.
Thanks to those who read - it brings me peace that you do... Compliments to those who live with peace within their relationships and those that surround them. The eyes close easier at night when there's peace.
Those awesome words: passion, love and feel. They're all about peace. Powerful, spine tingling, earth shattering.
We are so, so lucky to have peace within our lives - and should be so so proud to have lived a life of peace.
Love,
Victor
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Amazing Grace....
How sweet thou the sound
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see...
Up/down... Happy/sad... Love/hate...
Don't worry be happy... Ok, lips prepared, everyone whistle:
Phhhh-phaaaa-phuuu-pheeee-phuuu
phoooo-phuuu-phewwww-phoooo-phoooehuuuw
don't worry.... Phhh phaaa phaa phuuu phuuuewhooo, be happy...
Don't worry be happy...
Stuff happens, dunno why....
Good shit, bad shit...
Ugly stuff, great stuff...
Life is like the week... there's always a hump day..
Dick Howser (no, not an athletic supporter.. the former manager of the Kansas City Royals/New York Yankees..etc) usedta say "Ya can't get too low on the lows.. nor too high on the highs.."
Reckon that fits, but I smile a helluva lot more internally nowadays. Always been mostly a facade on the outside. Now the innards match - but it's not a facade.
Life is good. Never perfect, but very very good. Dreams. Dare to, for they can come true.
Hope, always have it. For if you believe it, it will be willed.
I know this crap is all non-sensical, so apologies. Guess you had to be there.
Happy Labor Day... which, whenya think about it... is wierd. Labor Day, yet we get it off. Hmmmm. Toodles... I promise, promise promise I will try to think of a funny story to relate soon. In the meantime, don't worry be happy.
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see...
Up/down... Happy/sad... Love/hate...
Don't worry be happy... Ok, lips prepared, everyone whistle:
Phhhh-phaaaa-phuuu-pheeee-phuuu
phoooo-phuuu-phewwww-phoooo-phoooehuuuw
don't worry.... Phhh phaaa phaa phuuu phuuuewhooo, be happy...
Don't worry be happy...
Stuff happens, dunno why....
Good shit, bad shit...
Ugly stuff, great stuff...
Life is like the week... there's always a hump day..
Dick Howser (no, not an athletic supporter.. the former manager of the Kansas City Royals/New York Yankees..etc) usedta say "Ya can't get too low on the lows.. nor too high on the highs.."
Reckon that fits, but I smile a helluva lot more internally nowadays. Always been mostly a facade on the outside. Now the innards match - but it's not a facade.
Life is good. Never perfect, but very very good. Dreams. Dare to, for they can come true.
Hope, always have it. For if you believe it, it will be willed.
I know this crap is all non-sensical, so apologies. Guess you had to be there.
Happy Labor Day... which, whenya think about it... is wierd. Labor Day, yet we get it off. Hmmmm. Toodles... I promise, promise promise I will try to think of a funny story to relate soon. In the meantime, don't worry be happy.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
When the dog bites... when the bee stings...
when I'm feeling sad... I simply remember my favor-ite things, and then I don't feeeeeeell, soo bad...
Yes, raindrops on roses ain't bad....
Calling a cat and having him look at you like "be for real"
Returning the love to a tail that's wagging for you...
A light rain on a 90 degree day...
Driving by places that bring back memories...
Driving in the country...
Having a full gas tank AND money left in billfold.
The Caribbean Cooler (I think it's called) It's a long, circular ride at Ocean's of Fun.. No impetus needed, the flow of the water keeps one in motion. You raft, you lounge, you move. Peaceful.. Oh so peaceful, in spite of all the termites screaming nearby...
The natural noises of a summer night...
Cool mornings...
That first cup of coffee...
Music that sends gyrations thru the bod...
A smile returned...
The Sport's page (sorry)...
Plunging in the warm waterbed on a cold winter night...
Plunging in the cold waterbed on a hot summer night...
Making waves in the waterbed, any temperature (Oh come on dammit, lighten up, this is about favorite things... and if that don't rank up there... geez!)
The perfect symmetry and green-ness of a Major League Baseball Stadium...
A smiling rugrat with no front teeth...
The first days of a walking infant... the excitement within.. the leaning for them.. and the deep breaths one draws from worrying about "boo-boo's"...
The days when you could go somewhere, plop the kid on a blanket on the floor, and he/she is young enough they can't go anywhere. Now THAT'S my kinda parenting.
Payday...
Frito's....
Peanut Butter and banana sandwiches (again, sorry)
Walking...
A hammock...
The shade...
Fixing the car and there ain't no parts leftover...
Holding hands...
Kissing...
Eyes that talk...
Feeling reciprocal 'feel'...
Relatives..
One-putting...
The internet...
Linguistics...
Clever IM's...
Fun emails forwarded that you ain't pressured to forward or send back to sender...
Fleetwood Mac...
The Allied Saints (local band)...
Peanut M&M's...
A voice on the other end of the phone you've been dying to hear...
Pictures of me when I had a flat belly...
Pictures of me prior to San Andreas faults...
A bike ride...
A game of catch...
Pickup basketball...
$3 blackjack...
Teasing co-workers...
A job well done...
Knowing, in spite of results... I've done my best...
Touching...
Contributing to another's self esteem...
Beautiful people...
A weekend trip to anywhere but home...
Being around water...
People who read every damn word of blogs and don't fall asleep whilst doing so...
My friends...
I don't feel sad (or bad)at all. Quite the contrary. I just didn't feel like writing or story-telling.. so..... I shared somea the crap that makes me happy.
YOU... Yes YOU dammit.. what makes you happy?
Say a prayer for the folks of LA, MS, AL, FL and remember, for every looter story, sniper story, there's gotta be 100 untold Good Samaritan stories... I gotta email from a cousin this morning... said "I feel so guilty living here and having 3 empty bedrooms when I know people down there would give anything to be in one." DAMMIT I hate (love) when people say things like that, think of them before I do. That rocked.
Oh yeah, I forgot Debbie. (One of my favorite things).. It's scary good. Been all of 13 days and seems like a year. (And that was meant complimentary/so natural).
Life is long (we hope) - stay tuned. G-Night
Yes, raindrops on roses ain't bad....
Calling a cat and having him look at you like "be for real"
Returning the love to a tail that's wagging for you...
A light rain on a 90 degree day...
Driving by places that bring back memories...
Driving in the country...
Having a full gas tank AND money left in billfold.
The Caribbean Cooler (I think it's called) It's a long, circular ride at Ocean's of Fun.. No impetus needed, the flow of the water keeps one in motion. You raft, you lounge, you move. Peaceful.. Oh so peaceful, in spite of all the termites screaming nearby...
The natural noises of a summer night...
Cool mornings...
That first cup of coffee...
Music that sends gyrations thru the bod...
A smile returned...
The Sport's page (sorry)...
Plunging in the warm waterbed on a cold winter night...
Plunging in the cold waterbed on a hot summer night...
Making waves in the waterbed, any temperature (Oh come on dammit, lighten up, this is about favorite things... and if that don't rank up there... geez!)
The perfect symmetry and green-ness of a Major League Baseball Stadium...
A smiling rugrat with no front teeth...
The first days of a walking infant... the excitement within.. the leaning for them.. and the deep breaths one draws from worrying about "boo-boo's"...
The days when you could go somewhere, plop the kid on a blanket on the floor, and he/she is young enough they can't go anywhere. Now THAT'S my kinda parenting.
Payday...
Frito's....
Peanut Butter and banana sandwiches (again, sorry)
Walking...
A hammock...
The shade...
Fixing the car and there ain't no parts leftover...
Holding hands...
Kissing...
Eyes that talk...
Feeling reciprocal 'feel'...
Relatives..
One-putting...
The internet...
Linguistics...
Clever IM's...
Fun emails forwarded that you ain't pressured to forward or send back to sender...
Fleetwood Mac...
The Allied Saints (local band)...
Peanut M&M's...
A voice on the other end of the phone you've been dying to hear...
Pictures of me when I had a flat belly...
Pictures of me prior to San Andreas faults...
A bike ride...
A game of catch...
Pickup basketball...
$3 blackjack...
Teasing co-workers...
A job well done...
Knowing, in spite of results... I've done my best...
Touching...
Contributing to another's self esteem...
Beautiful people...
A weekend trip to anywhere but home...
Being around water...
People who read every damn word of blogs and don't fall asleep whilst doing so...
My friends...
I don't feel sad (or bad)at all. Quite the contrary. I just didn't feel like writing or story-telling.. so..... I shared somea the crap that makes me happy.
YOU... Yes YOU dammit.. what makes you happy?
Say a prayer for the folks of LA, MS, AL, FL and remember, for every looter story, sniper story, there's gotta be 100 untold Good Samaritan stories... I gotta email from a cousin this morning... said "I feel so guilty living here and having 3 empty bedrooms when I know people down there would give anything to be in one." DAMMIT I hate (love) when people say things like that, think of them before I do. That rocked.
Oh yeah, I forgot Debbie. (One of my favorite things).. It's scary good. Been all of 13 days and seems like a year. (And that was meant complimentary/so natural).
Life is long (we hope) - stay tuned. G-Night
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