Filler....

American Heritage Dictionary defines this as “Something added to augment weight or size or fill space.”

I ain’t no gourmet, but when I thinka fillers I think of cooking… or making the damn products.. Like hot dogs… Or Meatloaf… Soy… Oatmeal… Cereal… Flour.. Fillers….

“Fill Space”… ain’t that the same as “killing time until the good part gets here”? Filler, ’tweener’, “in the meantime”, “until then”… all that shit is today. I’ma fillin’ space until the good shit gets here. Whomever that is, whenever that is.

A ’filler’ lifestyle ain’ta bad lifestyle… it can come with smiles… good times… economic “yeahs”.. selfish times… happy tears… love of family… etc, etc, etc. And I DON'T mean women are fillers - as in "I'll be with this one just for fun... as a filler." No. Who knows how our emotions are controlled - but I never enter a relationship with the thought of 'filler'.


I wants the main entrée… the meat o’ the matter… her. Is that stupid? Am I dying/struggling/treading water/”oh woah is me” until she gets here? Not no’s but hells no’s…

But, ain’t it Ok to hope, dream, envision the meatiest, juiciest, scrumptious hunka steak you’ve ever devoured? (And I REALLY don’t mean that in a piggish manner… I mean it in a “I can’t wait to hookup my eyeballs with you” manner.)

The Royals game the other night… ‘tween innings, they had the “Kiss Cam” where unsuspecting couples were hunkered in on the JumboTron and were coerced to kiss in fronta the crowd…. The Hot Dog, Relish, Mustard race… Slugger shooting hot dogs into the stands… Dance contests between two snotnoses… and great plays from This Week In Baseball… fillers….

Those of us who aren’t blessed with Tivo, are sequestered to ads featuring the two Sonic guys, that Carlton guy who got rich on Real Estate, super gizmos to give us washboard abs, and ‘teasers’ for the local news…. Fillers….

A night at the movie… Start time 7:15pm… which is fancy for 20 minutes of filler (previews, ads, etc) before the Big Show….

Passin’ time. Filler. “It’s 4pm, I’ve gotta be at church at 8... Ok, so I can watch Oprah, clean the damn litter box out.. Go vacuum the car… mebbe spend 20 minutes on the treadmill… read chapter 12 of that novel on the nightstand… take a nice, hot bath… call so-and-so… Send a few emails… filler… the filler of our lives…

The best meala my life was in Las Vegas. I was with my boss (yes, the same feller that is now monitoring my GD internet usage).. I’d asked a fella on the street “hey, what’s that fancy white and golden trimmed casino over there?”… “Why son, that’s the Golden Nugget. There ain’t no sign, cause the original owner thought ‘if you didn’t know what it was, then you don’t belong in there’ “… Shit, I butchered that one… But we went… and I had the most scrumptious steak I’d ever had in my life.. The waiter lived at our table.. It was well over $100 for two.. (Remember, I’m fine with a Peanut Butter sandwhich)… this was heaven…

That’s what I await.. Heaven… If it don’t happen here.. Maybe it will up there… as long as I behave during this ‘filler’…

May your days be filled with (oh shit, there’s that word) smiles… good times… laughter that does strange things to your body… happiness… an eye for the ‘good’… an appreciation of the minute… and joy…

Ghost writer here… Fillin’ in for Victurd. Love.