Dammit Jim!

Not a tremendously “hoppy” weekend. Got home late Saturday, had early break Sunday at HyVee… came home… snoozed s’more.. missed call, had voicemail from relative inviting me to lunch… got it too late… a second voicemail indicating “I’ll keep trying even though you’re avoiding me” – and I wasn’t.

Then, Maynard starts in with me… Man does this kid know how to bring me down – oh so low. He speaky with darts! And they hurt. Always remorseful, apologetic hours later, doesn’t help. Then wants to be best bud, and the wounds ain’t even healed yet.

Some other crappy stuff happened… Then… cometa work and everyone is speaking of nice/nifty family dinners yesterday….

Victor, is this another GD depression blog? No.. this time it ain’t. In spitea alla the above, I’m Ok. Was the weekend painted how I wanted it? Not no’s but hells no’s.. But, we’ve spoken about Mick’s “You can’t always get what you want.” – and that helps to remember.

I’m lucky, I woke up today. The twelve soldiers listed in the paper this morning didn’t.

I’m lucky, for I know me, like me, and love what remaining relatives I have. The 27 folks at the Golden Acres ain’t so lucky.

I’ve got my health, my heart, my speech, my hearing, a job, a car (although not mucha one!), friends…..

I’ve had a blast of late.. and actually – pretty much all my life. I probably can’t make lemonaide – but, if handed a lemon I might makea lemon drop shot.

In the one hour, twenty minutes I sat eating at HyVee… I saw a lady in a wheelchair… happy… a man in a wheelchair… paralyzed, and happy… people morbidly obese – happy… people with four too many GD kids… happy… old, very old people… happy…

Hey you out there… please remind me… when this cocksucker (said lovingly) call life doesn’t go as you planned it… remind me… it’s still a pretty damn good life.

Loveya all… sorry for the momentary whining… please know I’m cool. Life, it be good, even when sky is gloomy. Victurd.