On second thought......

The moments, they be-a precious…

Buddy Bell, the manager of the Kansas City Royals, announced today he was resigning at the end of the season to spend time with family… This is a man, my age roughly (36.…. Ok, FU, 54) who has spent damn near 2/3rds of his life in a baseball uniform… the day he retired as a player - he wouldn’t take his uniform off until 6:30 in the morning because he was sad at the thought…

Buddy is currently in remission from throat cancer… He’s got a host of grandkids he hasn’t spent time with in who-knows-when, and he’s got a 21 year old daughter who has Down’s Syndrome… Buddy specifically listed her as one of the main reasons he was calling it quits from the day-to-day 200+ day continuous grind of life on the road and at the ballpark “working” - even when home…

Tonight, with the bridge tragedy in Minneapolis, they’ve decided to postpone tomorrow’s game between Kansas City and the Minnesota Twins..

On second thought, life is more important than baseball, work, school, what the boss thinks of us, where we are on the ladder, whether we have a garage or not and how many damn doors it has… Bling takes a backseat.. Common sense prevails…

As one walks thru a cemetery - please look for company names on headstones… also peek to see if you find “well… their marriage sacrificed some, but due to his/her persistence, they managed to own a home with 4,750 square feet“…

Whilst my emotional intelligence (eh, you’d have to have read here before) sucks (so they say) I really think I’ve latched on to at least understanding the brevity with which we’re here.

I’m probably too “wussy” (some would say) but I’ve found soooooo rewarding to say things like “WHAT THE HELL’S WRONG WITH YOU, YOU’RE ALWAYS HAPPY?”… or.. Today… was talking to lady in Long Beach, California… she’s the head honcho of a humongous Ocean Port Operation - but she answers the phone as any scribe would -- and you couldn’t smack the upbeatedness off her face/voice with a ball peen hammer. So I told her so. “Patrice, please know how much I enjoy working with you.. And I’m amazed every time we speak how happy and upbeat you are - I love working with you.” (Victor, you GD wussy.) I don’t care, she earned it.

We have choices. I know I know - I bitch about those that bitch - so I’m right in the same GD lane they are when I do… but for the most part - every second is a gift. We choose how to deal with it. We can frown, grow wrinkles, die, and have a sparse crowd at our funeral…. Or we can tell life “go ahead and try to knock the good mood outta me you mother fucker - I simply won’t allow you to do that.”

Buddy Bell chose never to berate his players publicly. Buddy never got too up on the ups, nor too down on the downs. (Passion, he did have passion though - I think he got thrown out of like 55 ball games.) He’s understood how fleeting life is. He’s making changes - and I feel for the good.

The Minnesota Twins, perhaps sacrificing a crowd of 30,000 people that spend on average $50-$80 a person on parking, tickets, hot dogs, soda pops, brewskies, pretzels, bobbleheads, etc - understand life and the value of.

I’ll take wussy. I’ll grit my teeth and hold back when I hear bitching about co-workers, how the restaurant food was cooked, the service, how shitty the mate is, how low the bank balance is… and I’ll try to enjoy. (Victor, are you fucking preaching AGAIN?)

No. Time and again, I’ve said one of the reasons I write is to remind my own damn self - life is good - but I/we have to allow it to be.

Thank you for being here. (If anyone really enjoyed this and would like to jump my buns to further enhance the wonderfulness of life - please call me at 867-5309. You can even have "sexual bunkbed" choice - top/bottom. K?) Or, on second thought, have a (make it) a nice day. Love, Victurd.