Changing the oil in life......

I ain’t one of those that has a calendar book to track/list important dates, goals, etc. The Jiffy Lube sticker on my checkenginelight windshield reminds me I’ll need an oil change when the odometer reads 86,374 miles…. (I’m at 209,741... Dammit I forgot)…

Oil change = rejuvenation. My oil changes are: An occasional “I can’t wait to get there” trip to the casino. (Score from last night: Victor $457, Ameristar Casino $0. Haha. Bastards, I got ‘em!… ahm, they’re still ahead for the year)… A slaba ribs..

A nap in the shade on a hammock… A walk around the City Market to people watch.. Listening to someone sing who’s awesome yet doesn’t emit any of the “look at me” shit.

I do change my oil.. Truth is, it’s gets about 2 ½, 3 quarts low - then I put more in. That’s kinda like changing it all… I wait til I hear the ticking.. Fuck wives tales - you get more than 210,000 miles on yours then come diss me! (Oh, and I wash my car every time Brian Busby calls for umbrellas.)

Writing rejuvenates me. Your comments rejuvenate me. Something as simple as a smile can “change my oil.” Oh sure, sex too - but the sticker on the windshield for that says I am way way way overdue. Too bad they don’t have Jiffy Sex places. A whole new meaning to "Trust the Midas touch."

Giving a coworker a nice (earned) teasing rejuvenates me. Finding ways to save money at work rejuvenates me.

Sitting down with friends/loved ones where there ain’t no threat of getting up soon is heaven. Watching a triple does. A diving catch in the outfield. Yes, even seeing a raccoon up close does too…

Nice butts, Victor, you forgot nice butts. NO I DIDN’T! I truly go “Mmm” to myself when I see one. Piggish?? Probably.. But I think plain ole human too. At present, there is one in particular I cherish staring at - but there ain’t no way in hell - so that’s all I do is stare.

Being around water is an oil change of life. Be it a river, creek, waterfall, lake, ocean. There’s just sumpin serine about it. The casual dress… the sound… the freshness.. The peacefulness of those around water..

Morning coffee, newspaper and cigs rejuvenates me. The sauna. Being at a park. Watching birds fly… ‘specially them big’ns that hold their wings still and just coast/soar…

Hell, I can fall in love at the grocery store. Fell in love with four the other night at the Piggly Wiggly. Ya stop, ya look, ya wonder. Are they happy? Are they lonely? Does the items in their cart tell me “no fucking way Jose is she for me.” (There’s gotta be something completely selfish, having way too many GD calories, and YUMMY in the cart.) How old is she? Is she grumpy? Does she like… well… “you know”.. All those thoughts, questions asked.. The wonder… rejuvenates me.

Evaluating people is a perk. What makes them tick? What makes them blow up? What makes them so happy? So sad? So grumpy? So giving? So smart?

A codger showing his ‘57 Chevy at the car show - reliving his childhood rejuvenates me. A long-term couple showing individual sacrifice for the other perks me.

There’s a lot out there to get psyched, refocused, rejuvenated - having an oil change in life - about.

Simple. Simple is an oil change. I hate complications. I hate long, boring stuff. I hate “have to’s”. I hate dress codes. I hate City Codes. If I wanna burn outta a fitty-five galloon barrel, by golly I feel I oughta be able to. If I wanna let the grass grow (just on the side where Gladys Kravits lives) I should be able to!

I should be able to get the paper in my undies. I would upcheck if Gladys got the paper in her undies.

Oil changes are great things in life between complete engine overhauls. I’ve had several engine overhauls (a new woman in my life.) Sticker on the windshield tells me it’s about time for an engine overhaul. Brb, going to notate that in my calendar book. Oh shit, forgot. I ain’t got one. But I do need a few things from the Piggly Wiggly. Back soon. Hey, is it out of line to talk about melons in the produce aisle? Is it improper to say “wow, you look great chilled” when she emerges from a frozen food door? Are you a “white or wheat” kinda gal? Paper or plastic? Top or bottom (just kidding)..

Change your oil every 3,000 miles - or, when life’s wonderful little diddies provide that opportunity… Loveya, Victurd.