I really think, (don’t swat me) the last time I stepped foot in church was quite a few months back - and it was in the basement for a Boy Scout’s Chili Dinner.. Shame on me…
Driving into work today… I lit up… How can one wake up, walk out the door, begin the day this time of year without Holy envy…
Driving in - traffic was sparse (thankfully) so I had opportune to look over and view the trees… My goodness… Every year - about this time, He gets out His paint brush and goes to work… The orange, the burnt orange, the rust, the yellows, the salmon, the coral, the tangerine, the mahogany, the peach, the apricot,, the pumpkin, the persimmon…
ALL the shades of green, orange, brown - and inbetween… Strokes… He makes strokes.. And the change goes on daily… If you can drive by and not smile - you’re a stronger person than I… I look at it and wanna pee my pants and say “THANKYOU!!! THANKYOU!!!”.. “NO MATTER HOW MANY YEARS I’VE SEEN IT - I LOVE IT - AND I AM APPRECIATIVE!!!!”
God works in mysterious ways.. Some days he kicks back and creates a blue sky for us to relax and observe (and probably Him too).. Some days he throws a little gray in there - and some aqua - and He refreshes everything…
This timea year is the master plan… He’s painting allover… He doesn’t care if you don’t have squat and live in Hooterville, he’ll make the surroundings magnificent…He even pretties up Mission Hills, Johnson County…
When you think of the expanse - He’s some kinda artist…
He makes these changes fairly rapidly - as if to almost say “Hey you.. Take a moment… Smile… enjoy life… enjoy the beauty.. Stare at the wonder…”
And then long about December he blows all the leaves off… throws a heapin’ helping’ of freezing mist on everything to wipe the slate clean… puts His easel away… and readies Himself for Spring… all the vivid greens…
I don’t know your take on beliefs… and please know I ain’t thumping here… But I don’t understand how anyone can be out and about this time of year - and not smile… not wonder… not thank… not enjoy.. not say a prayer… not believe…
I, Victurd, do hereby challenge you to drive a path… take in the surroundings.. And not smile…
I’ve mouthed off enough… I’ll leaf you alone… Orange you glad?.. Happy Fall to you… Happy Halloween… May the resta your week be spooktacular…Love, Victurd
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Sunday, October 28, 2007
GPS…
With Christmas approaching - onea the most requested “I want” items in this technological era - is the GPS system… Ya gotta know where you’re going… Like anything technological - what one was once an arm and a leg pricewise - after a few years - they make them where they’re almost bearable for the common man… Online pricing now is around $240... And Christmas ‘door busters’ expect them to be available for around $150.. Mebbe even $99...
Do you know where you’re going? I ain’t real sure I do.. Seems it’s the same paths, same diddies, same things day after day… I have the great want to change directions… but the motivation, or perhaps more the wherewithal…- it’sa lackin’..
Article on Eric Clapton today espousing his new book about his life… He related - paraphrasing - I really wanted to see who I am.. Where I’ve been… Clapton has been sober now for twenty years.. And of the years prior to that “it’s really kinda hard to remember.. To organize.. To relate.”
Young, with it actress Natalie Portman relates “if you don’t like where you’re going - it’s simple, change it.”
They say the only time you can change a man is when he‘s a baby. Eh, perhaps true.
Quite simply, I need a new direction. There’s a hitch in my GPS get along… Don’t get me wrong - the bliss, the enjoyment of life portrayed here is real… I just know life can get even better…
A short one today.. No funny stuff… SORRY! Come back tomorrow… mebbe I’ll wear Halloween costume.. Maybe we’ll talk the World Series.. Or The Chiefs… or, perhaps college football.. Or.. Mebbe I’ll even have a new direction..
May your GPS guide you wherever in life it is you wanna go… Happy day, love, Victurd
Do you know where you’re going? I ain’t real sure I do.. Seems it’s the same paths, same diddies, same things day after day… I have the great want to change directions… but the motivation, or perhaps more the wherewithal…- it’sa lackin’..
Article on Eric Clapton today espousing his new book about his life… He related - paraphrasing - I really wanted to see who I am.. Where I’ve been… Clapton has been sober now for twenty years.. And of the years prior to that “it’s really kinda hard to remember.. To organize.. To relate.”
Young, with it actress Natalie Portman relates “if you don’t like where you’re going - it’s simple, change it.”
They say the only time you can change a man is when he‘s a baby. Eh, perhaps true.
Quite simply, I need a new direction. There’s a hitch in my GPS get along… Don’t get me wrong - the bliss, the enjoyment of life portrayed here is real… I just know life can get even better…
A short one today.. No funny stuff… SORRY! Come back tomorrow… mebbe I’ll wear Halloween costume.. Maybe we’ll talk the World Series.. Or The Chiefs… or, perhaps college football.. Or.. Mebbe I’ll even have a new direction..
May your GPS guide you wherever in life it is you wanna go… Happy day, love, Victurd
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Here's my beard....
Ain't it weird? Don't be sceered, Just a beard.
Yes, stolen from George Carlin. (As are many of the quotes thrown in below.) I love George Carlin’s take on life - and how he so very aptly points out life is weird, and we’re even weirder…
I shouldn’t read the news - and usually skim right over the yuck stuff… this morning’s paper had it’s share of yuck (lady kills pregnant lady.. Cuts baby out of her stomach… Best friend shoots best friend, then rapes his wife…)..
Then ya get even weirder ones… Like the guy who was lying in a park with his pants down - next to a full sized anatomically correct inflatable doll… even weirder… two years earlier he was arrested for robbing a Bridal Shop - and caught blocks away with a mannequin wearing a bridal dress… Eh, mebbe he ain’t so nuts… at least there’d be no quarrels in that kinda arrangement… no infidelity… no incensed cell calls with “where the hell are you?” And hell.. they’d never age or gain weight… Nothing a little glue/patch or patching compound couldn’t fix..
The IQ and the life expectancy of the average American recently passed each other going in the opposite direction.
PLEASE be safe this weekend. Dick Cheney is going hunting…
There’s no present..There’s only the immediate future and the recent past.
McCain trashes Hillary for her want to earmark $1 million in funds for a Woodstock museum. Caused some dude to write “The reason the 60’s keeps rearing it’s head: It’s not over. The 60’s didn’t end when the last guitar was unplugged at Woodstock.” Should be an interesting election.
Have you ever noticed anyone driving slower than you is an “idiot” and anyone driving faster than you is a “maniac’?
At the Park reading the paper this morning (yes, I’d already done the Piggly Wiggly breakfast thing… bastards won’t let me smoke in there)… a stream of birds.. Too high to distinguish what kind (<-- fancy for “I know robins, cardinals, blue jays… ‘bout it).. Forty birds wide - this migration continued (in numbers) and continued… I’d bet a mile long group of them… Twenty minutes later - another group - same thing - same numbers.. Musta been separated by air traffic control. Anyways… here it is October 27.. Bastards were going North. Now THAT’s global warming…
When cheese gets it's picture taken, what does it say?
Reid and Soanya are on day #187. If you’re just stopping by… there is a couple.. He 53, she 23 [uh huh, you read it right].. They’re attempting to break the continuous sailing record.. Hence their website: 1000days.net The record is 600+, and if they make it they’ll circle the globe three times.. Kinda interesting to read their website.. How/what they eat… how they power things with solar, tow generators, batteries….they’ve seen whales… birds occasionally land on their boat (which begs the question - how GD far can a bird fly without taking a rest?).. No major incidents since the early days of their voyage… remember? They sailed into a Naval firing range (oh shit) and they literally ran into a freighter in the wee hours.. Check ‘em out..
When you kiss your grandmother in France.. Is that considered a French kiss? ß screw you George… that was mine!
When I sat down, thought I had all kindsa things to say. Sorry. Brain went empty. Have a nice day. Treat the tricksters. Be careful on two lane highways - there are weird people in life and 50% of them are going in the opposite direction as you. Love, Victurd.
Yes, stolen from George Carlin. (As are many of the quotes thrown in below.) I love George Carlin’s take on life - and how he so very aptly points out life is weird, and we’re even weirder…
I shouldn’t read the news - and usually skim right over the yuck stuff… this morning’s paper had it’s share of yuck (lady kills pregnant lady.. Cuts baby out of her stomach… Best friend shoots best friend, then rapes his wife…)..
Then ya get even weirder ones… Like the guy who was lying in a park with his pants down - next to a full sized anatomically correct inflatable doll… even weirder… two years earlier he was arrested for robbing a Bridal Shop - and caught blocks away with a mannequin wearing a bridal dress… Eh, mebbe he ain’t so nuts… at least there’d be no quarrels in that kinda arrangement… no infidelity… no incensed cell calls with “where the hell are you?” And hell.. they’d never age or gain weight… Nothing a little glue/patch or patching compound couldn’t fix..
The IQ and the life expectancy of the average American recently passed each other going in the opposite direction.
PLEASE be safe this weekend. Dick Cheney is going hunting…
There’s no present..There’s only the immediate future and the recent past.
McCain trashes Hillary for her want to earmark $1 million in funds for a Woodstock museum. Caused some dude to write “The reason the 60’s keeps rearing it’s head: It’s not over. The 60’s didn’t end when the last guitar was unplugged at Woodstock.” Should be an interesting election.
Have you ever noticed anyone driving slower than you is an “idiot” and anyone driving faster than you is a “maniac’?
At the Park reading the paper this morning (yes, I’d already done the Piggly Wiggly breakfast thing… bastards won’t let me smoke in there)… a stream of birds.. Too high to distinguish what kind (<-- fancy for “I know robins, cardinals, blue jays… ‘bout it).. Forty birds wide - this migration continued (in numbers) and continued… I’d bet a mile long group of them… Twenty minutes later - another group - same thing - same numbers.. Musta been separated by air traffic control. Anyways… here it is October 27.. Bastards were going North. Now THAT’s global warming…
When cheese gets it's picture taken, what does it say?
Reid and Soanya are on day #187. If you’re just stopping by… there is a couple.. He 53, she 23 [uh huh, you read it right].. They’re attempting to break the continuous sailing record.. Hence their website: 1000days.net The record is 600+, and if they make it they’ll circle the globe three times.. Kinda interesting to read their website.. How/what they eat… how they power things with solar, tow generators, batteries….they’ve seen whales… birds occasionally land on their boat (which begs the question - how GD far can a bird fly without taking a rest?).. No major incidents since the early days of their voyage… remember? They sailed into a Naval firing range (oh shit) and they literally ran into a freighter in the wee hours.. Check ‘em out..
When you kiss your grandmother in France.. Is that considered a French kiss? ß screw you George… that was mine!
When I sat down, thought I had all kindsa things to say. Sorry. Brain went empty. Have a nice day. Treat the tricksters. Be careful on two lane highways - there are weird people in life and 50% of them are going in the opposite direction as you. Love, Victurd.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Spring forward, fall back….
Not this Sunday, but next Sunday - we have an extra hour in our lives…
At 1:59am, Sunday November 4th, we set the clocks back to 1:00am…
They got every damn thing on the internet now - and one of ‘em is “Top Five Unique Things To Do With The Extra Daylight Savings Hour.” Bored sonsabitches I say. I gotta go back and look - surely there’s ads on the page or sumpin… Yep - what I thought…
Anyways, their suggestions:
1) Write a meaningful letter to everyone you know. Did they like just get here? I mean it’s a grand idea - but GD (Gosh Darn) it’s my hope by now, even if you’re twelve, it would take you longer than one hour to write a meaningful letter to everyone you know.
2) Make some non-New Years Resolutions… They suggest “Maybe you can be more understanding with your family and friends, or, exercise and eat better.” Ahm.. .naahhh…
3) Cuddle and talk with someone special. Now them sonsabitches are talking. Ahm, yeah, that’d be third on my list… Yours? “Hey honey? With this extra hour we got.. You wanna write everyone you know… maybe set a plan in motion to get ridda your beer belly.. Or run to bed and have sex?”.. Me? Hell. I’d vote for #3.. But, it’s been so damn long, then we’d haveta thinka something for the other 57 minutes…
4) Make a plan for an altruistic act. Ahm. Brb….. Thanks Webster… Why couldn’t they just say “Random act of kindness”? I suppose that’s cool - but I ain’t real sure they’d appreciate you hammering and nailing for the new Habitat for Humanity house at 1:00am Sunday. Eh, but perhaps still a good idea to plan something unselfish…
5) Write a love song… Ohhhhh, great idea. Like however many kajillion of us Americans there are have the ability to write a love song?
Stolen from some Redneck site:
Kudzu is green,
my dog's name is Blue
And I'm so lucky
to have a sweet thang like you.
Yore hair is like cornsilk
A-flapping in the breeze.
Softer than Blue's
And without all them fleas.
You move like the bass,
Which excite me in May.
You ain't got no scales
But I luv you anyway.
Ok ok…… so what do I suggest we do with the extra hour?… Well.. I think I might stand in front of the mirror at 1:58am, look at myself.. And say… “for years.. You’ve wanted to be younger… WATCH… because in a minute, you will be.”
Then… since I don’t have anyone to “Cuddle and talk with someone special” I think it’d be a pretty damn good time to think of the favorite hours of my/our/your lives and “relive” them…..
It’d be pretty special for me if I were able to relive an hour in the living room - just sitting and talking with my parents and my sister. I’d give a year of my life for that possibility.
I’d relive the final 30 minutes of the time back in the dinosaur days I coached the women’s basketball team at the college I went to - and we won the Missouri Small College Championship.. And then the 30 minutes just after the game. Special - it was special. At least to me…
I’d think of playing whiffle ball in the yard when I was nine…
A dark hour of kick the can with the nine Flanigan kids… again.. Probably about age nine….
I’d relive the thirty minutes at Granny’s house on Christmas Eve before we opened presents - and the thirty minutes that followed comparing presents with my cousins… circa age 6 to 12..
I’d spend an hour at the frat house… Dix, Boze, Whale, Gib, Coxy, Bouncer, Stinger - and a case of Bud…
I’d relive an hour of the Courtwarming Dance with Teri…
I’d relive an hour in Maui with Perijo….
I’d relive an hour in the sack with Marilyn… (Oink.. Sorry… all men are pigs!)…
I’d spend an hour looking thru all the pics and videos of my kid - and smile away the hour…
I’m boring you now… but if anything… I hope it sets your mind thinking about what you’d relive - given the chance… If nothing else - take a moment to think back on the really really good times in your life… know that there are more good times ahead - no matter how shitty ‘today’ can occasionally be…
Why heck… envision creating your own future hour of how you’d like it to be… I mean shit, that’s easier than writing a damn love song….
Ending this now… Thanks for being here. Thanks for reading.. Thanks for your brain… God Bless life and all there is in it… Every minute we’re here is blessed.. No, it may not always be shiny - but it’s blessed. Sixty minutes. Free. Sixty extra minutes. More of life.
Seeya on March 9, 2008... We’ll all bitch about being cheated out of an hour.. And the many times in life we’ve wasted away time… (In line at Mickey D’s… at the License Bureau… Four carts back at the checkout of Piggly Wiggly… Commercial time during the World Series.. Etc..)
I loveya…… Victurd.
At 1:59am, Sunday November 4th, we set the clocks back to 1:00am…
They got every damn thing on the internet now - and one of ‘em is “Top Five Unique Things To Do With The Extra Daylight Savings Hour.” Bored sonsabitches I say. I gotta go back and look - surely there’s ads on the page or sumpin… Yep - what I thought…
Anyways, their suggestions:
1) Write a meaningful letter to everyone you know. Did they like just get here? I mean it’s a grand idea - but GD (Gosh Darn) it’s my hope by now, even if you’re twelve, it would take you longer than one hour to write a meaningful letter to everyone you know.
2) Make some non-New Years Resolutions… They suggest “Maybe you can be more understanding with your family and friends, or, exercise and eat better.” Ahm.. .naahhh…
3) Cuddle and talk with someone special. Now them sonsabitches are talking. Ahm, yeah, that’d be third on my list… Yours? “Hey honey? With this extra hour we got.. You wanna write everyone you know… maybe set a plan in motion to get ridda your beer belly.. Or run to bed and have sex?”.. Me? Hell. I’d vote for #3.. But, it’s been so damn long, then we’d haveta thinka something for the other 57 minutes…
4) Make a plan for an altruistic act. Ahm. Brb….. Thanks Webster… Why couldn’t they just say “Random act of kindness”? I suppose that’s cool - but I ain’t real sure they’d appreciate you hammering and nailing for the new Habitat for Humanity house at 1:00am Sunday. Eh, but perhaps still a good idea to plan something unselfish…
5) Write a love song… Ohhhhh, great idea. Like however many kajillion of us Americans there are have the ability to write a love song?
Stolen from some Redneck site:
Kudzu is green,
my dog's name is Blue
And I'm so lucky
to have a sweet thang like you.
Yore hair is like cornsilk
A-flapping in the breeze.
Softer than Blue's
And without all them fleas.
You move like the bass,
Which excite me in May.
You ain't got no scales
But I luv you anyway.
Ok ok…… so what do I suggest we do with the extra hour?… Well.. I think I might stand in front of the mirror at 1:58am, look at myself.. And say… “for years.. You’ve wanted to be younger… WATCH… because in a minute, you will be.”
Then… since I don’t have anyone to “Cuddle and talk with someone special” I think it’d be a pretty damn good time to think of the favorite hours of my/our/your lives and “relive” them…..
It’d be pretty special for me if I were able to relive an hour in the living room - just sitting and talking with my parents and my sister. I’d give a year of my life for that possibility.
I’d relive the final 30 minutes of the time back in the dinosaur days I coached the women’s basketball team at the college I went to - and we won the Missouri Small College Championship.. And then the 30 minutes just after the game. Special - it was special. At least to me…
I’d think of playing whiffle ball in the yard when I was nine…
A dark hour of kick the can with the nine Flanigan kids… again.. Probably about age nine….
I’d relive the thirty minutes at Granny’s house on Christmas Eve before we opened presents - and the thirty minutes that followed comparing presents with my cousins… circa age 6 to 12..
I’d spend an hour at the frat house… Dix, Boze, Whale, Gib, Coxy, Bouncer, Stinger - and a case of Bud…
I’d relive an hour of the Courtwarming Dance with Teri…
I’d relive an hour in Maui with Perijo….
I’d relive an hour in the sack with Marilyn… (Oink.. Sorry… all men are pigs!)…
I’d spend an hour looking thru all the pics and videos of my kid - and smile away the hour…
I’m boring you now… but if anything… I hope it sets your mind thinking about what you’d relive - given the chance… If nothing else - take a moment to think back on the really really good times in your life… know that there are more good times ahead - no matter how shitty ‘today’ can occasionally be…
Why heck… envision creating your own future hour of how you’d like it to be… I mean shit, that’s easier than writing a damn love song….
Ending this now… Thanks for being here. Thanks for reading.. Thanks for your brain… God Bless life and all there is in it… Every minute we’re here is blessed.. No, it may not always be shiny - but it’s blessed. Sixty minutes. Free. Sixty extra minutes. More of life.
Seeya on March 9, 2008... We’ll all bitch about being cheated out of an hour.. And the many times in life we’ve wasted away time… (In line at Mickey D’s… at the License Bureau… Four carts back at the checkout of Piggly Wiggly… Commercial time during the World Series.. Etc..)
I loveya…… Victurd.
Monday, October 22, 2007
I’ve found her…………
Be for real... Did u really think so? I know… I didn’t think you would….
Awhile back… I heard longtime (now Hall of Fame) broadcaster for the Kansas City Royals - Denny Matthews interviewed… He is ALWAYS getting asked “who’s your favorite baseball player for the Royals over the years?”…
He always came up with the same answer… “Well… I’ll take George Brett batting…. Frank White fielding.. And Willie Wilson running.”
I reckon that’s why I’m here today/tonight… “I’ve found her.”
I’ve fallen in love with Catom’s loyalty…. Teresa’s pats on the back and upbeat attitude…Rae’s excitement for life… Gracie’s quick smile and laugh… Sumbrum’s penchant for getting the most outta every minute of life… Misty’s wonderful brain (oh, and her butt too, sorry, all men are pigs… relax.. She‘s half my age.. But she does have a nice butt!).. Kathie’s want of adventure (and follow thru of same).. CJ’s dedication and loyalty… Cherryl’s friendship and occasional mischief.. Lisa’s “I don’t really know you but it’s cool old farts and young folks can be friends.”… Terry’s wildly creative brain… Cyn’s epitome of the word friend… Jana’s coming from leftfield… M’s take on life..
So… ya wanna get married? Well hell, CJ already is… so that cuts it down to 13... Oops.. See another married, ahm 12.. And annuder… we’re at 11.. .. So we could do 30 days each.. Then take a month a year off… Hell.. at that rate, I could like afford a Motel for the whole month of December.. deal? Fuckin’ A Rae-Catom-Teresa-Gracie-Sumbrum-Misty-Kathie-Lisa-Cyn-Jana-M…
In all seriousness… each and every one of you has sent me words to make life fun… and it’s my hope you’ve gained an occasional smile here… this blog (and your comments) save me from having a shrink bill!
If I’ve missed someone… I apologize (and what-the-hey, there’s still a month open!)…
I feel quite certain I’m labeled at work. I hang with women. I don’t do so with known intent - it just happens. For whatever reason, the vast majority of my life has seen me having very good friendships with women. Yes, some men too… But it’s not uncommon for me to lookup at lunchtime and realize there’s like five of them and onea me. It’s those occasions where I stop, smell the roses.. And think “I’ma lucky bastard.” I ain’t gots no regrets to same.
I truly do value each and every onea your friendships… so… when you’re ready to make sleeping arrangements… please call me at 867-5309...
Happy happy………. Love, Victurd
Awhile back… I heard longtime (now Hall of Fame) broadcaster for the Kansas City Royals - Denny Matthews interviewed… He is ALWAYS getting asked “who’s your favorite baseball player for the Royals over the years?”…
He always came up with the same answer… “Well… I’ll take George Brett batting…. Frank White fielding.. And Willie Wilson running.”
I reckon that’s why I’m here today/tonight… “I’ve found her.”
I’ve fallen in love with Catom’s loyalty…. Teresa’s pats on the back and upbeat attitude…Rae’s excitement for life… Gracie’s quick smile and laugh… Sumbrum’s penchant for getting the most outta every minute of life… Misty’s wonderful brain (oh, and her butt too, sorry, all men are pigs… relax.. She‘s half my age.. But she does have a nice butt!).. Kathie’s want of adventure (and follow thru of same).. CJ’s dedication and loyalty… Cherryl’s friendship and occasional mischief.. Lisa’s “I don’t really know you but it’s cool old farts and young folks can be friends.”… Terry’s wildly creative brain… Cyn’s epitome of the word friend… Jana’s coming from leftfield… M’s take on life..
So… ya wanna get married? Well hell, CJ already is… so that cuts it down to 13... Oops.. See another married, ahm 12.. And annuder… we’re at 11.. .. So we could do 30 days each.. Then take a month a year off… Hell.. at that rate, I could like afford a Motel for the whole month of December.. deal? Fuckin’ A Rae-Catom-Teresa-Gracie-Sumbrum-Misty-Kathie-Lisa-Cyn-Jana-M…
In all seriousness… each and every one of you has sent me words to make life fun… and it’s my hope you’ve gained an occasional smile here… this blog (and your comments) save me from having a shrink bill!
If I’ve missed someone… I apologize (and what-the-hey, there’s still a month open!)…
I feel quite certain I’m labeled at work. I hang with women. I don’t do so with known intent - it just happens. For whatever reason, the vast majority of my life has seen me having very good friendships with women. Yes, some men too… But it’s not uncommon for me to lookup at lunchtime and realize there’s like five of them and onea me. It’s those occasions where I stop, smell the roses.. And think “I’ma lucky bastard.” I ain’t gots no regrets to same.
I truly do value each and every onea your friendships… so… when you’re ready to make sleeping arrangements… please call me at 867-5309...
Happy happy………. Love, Victurd
Sunday, October 21, 2007
sdrawkcassab.....
I had a revalation... All this GD (gosh darn) time... I've had blinders on and I've asked myself "HEY... what's wrong with me?" (Re: the most recent end of a 20 year+ marriage..)...
You know what? Fuck that. I've had it sdrawkcassab. I am man, hear me roar.
Love, Victurd...
You know what? Fuck that. I've had it sdrawkcassab. I am man, hear me roar.
Love, Victurd...
Mad, amorous……
Mad: ADJECTIVE: Showing or having enthusiasm: ardent, enthusiastic, fervent, keen 1, rabid, warm, zealous. Informal: crazy. Slang: gung ho, nuts. See concern Marked by extreme excitement, confusion, or agitation: delirious, frantic, frenetic, frenzied, wild. Archaic: madding. See calm
Amorous: ADJECTIVE:
Strongly attracted or disposed to love, especially sexual love.
Indicative of love or sexual desire: an amorous glance.
Of or associated with love: an amorous poem.
Being in love; enamored: He had been amorous of her since the day they met.
In the last two weeks, I’ve had conversations with two gentleman, each married - each admitting “the intimacy went South long ago… in fact, we occupy separate bedrooms.. and have for some time..”
It was an eye-opener for me… me the dude who worries because my bed
partner now is a 15 year old fat cat.. Not that I don’t love the
cat… I do… I guess I just felt sorry for myself…
Having two marriages myself that have “gone South” I decided to
Google “How to stay married.” Surprisingly, there was no exact
match. Hmmm. I thought that’d be kinda important. (Actually I
"Yahoo'ed".. but everyone thinks in terms of Google, thus, used it.)
I did, however, find a site “Why do you stay married?” - and the
results there too were sad… One poll indicated only 30% stayed
married for love. Another 30% for the children… 20% for commitment…
9% due to fear.. 8% for finances. And 4% due to tradition…
So…….. Again I find myself asking “if I am fortunate enough to be
‘with’ again, I don’t wanna screw it up… give me some helps here
Internet.” So I scrolled down.. And the same site did give suggestions…
1) Take time each day to relate what has gone on in your day,
how you are feeling about things - and try to get your mate to reciprocate…
2) Have a weekly date night.. Courtship can be for many, the most
exciting period in a relationship. Don’t let that part end. Doesn’t
have to be anything extravagant - just get out.
3) Look for opportunities to show your love… a love note, love
letter, love email, love text, thoughtful gift… let your mate know
you are thinking of them throughout the day.
The catch phrase nowadays is “I’ve fallen out of love.” Bullshit.
Everyone knows a good marriage takes hard work. We love the things
we take time and energy with.
George Washington Carver (so this article said.. And I have no idea
if this is one in the same as the inventor) put it best "How far you
go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate
with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant of the weak
and strong. Because someday in life you will have been all of these."
I know, that upon occasion, CJ and Valerie wonder by here. Please
know I thought of each of you as I wrote this. We envy you, and are proud of you each.. If half the marriages fail, and only
30% of the marriages continue due to love - that’s only 15% of all
marriages. Pat yourself on the back - and then give Bobby/Darren a
backrub! Way cool.. And carry on.
In spite of the odds… In spite of the tango being a dance that
requires two to wanna… in spite of my age.. In spite of the
potential of it (an end) all happening again… in spite of the
occasional pity parties I’ve forced you to attend.. I’d do it
again in a heartbeat.
So… tell me about your day.. How you feel… Let’s go on a date..
Here’s a rose.. And if you’ll check in the back pocket of your jeans
there’s a note that says “I love your butt.”
Seen her?
Happy mad, amorous… Love, Victurd
Amorous: ADJECTIVE:
Strongly attracted or disposed to love, especially sexual love.
Indicative of love or sexual desire: an amorous glance.
Of or associated with love: an amorous poem.
Being in love; enamored: He had been amorous of her since the day they met.
In the last two weeks, I’ve had conversations with two gentleman, each married - each admitting “the intimacy went South long ago… in fact, we occupy separate bedrooms.. and have for some time..”
It was an eye-opener for me… me the dude who worries because my bed
partner now is a 15 year old fat cat.. Not that I don’t love the
cat… I do… I guess I just felt sorry for myself…
Having two marriages myself that have “gone South” I decided to
Google “How to stay married.” Surprisingly, there was no exact
match. Hmmm. I thought that’d be kinda important. (Actually I
"Yahoo'ed".. but everyone thinks in terms of Google, thus, used it.)
I did, however, find a site “Why do you stay married?” - and the
results there too were sad… One poll indicated only 30% stayed
married for love. Another 30% for the children… 20% for commitment…
9% due to fear.. 8% for finances. And 4% due to tradition…
So…….. Again I find myself asking “if I am fortunate enough to be
‘with’ again, I don’t wanna screw it up… give me some helps here
Internet.” So I scrolled down.. And the same site did give suggestions…
1) Take time each day to relate what has gone on in your day,
how you are feeling about things - and try to get your mate to reciprocate…
2) Have a weekly date night.. Courtship can be for many, the most
exciting period in a relationship. Don’t let that part end. Doesn’t
have to be anything extravagant - just get out.
3) Look for opportunities to show your love… a love note, love
letter, love email, love text, thoughtful gift… let your mate know
you are thinking of them throughout the day.
The catch phrase nowadays is “I’ve fallen out of love.” Bullshit.
Everyone knows a good marriage takes hard work. We love the things
we take time and energy with.
George Washington Carver (so this article said.. And I have no idea
if this is one in the same as the inventor) put it best "How far you
go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate
with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant of the weak
and strong. Because someday in life you will have been all of these."
I know, that upon occasion, CJ and Valerie wonder by here. Please
know I thought of each of you as I wrote this. We envy you, and are proud of you each.. If half the marriages fail, and only
30% of the marriages continue due to love - that’s only 15% of all
marriages. Pat yourself on the back - and then give Bobby/Darren a
backrub! Way cool.. And carry on.
In spite of the odds… In spite of the tango being a dance that
requires two to wanna… in spite of my age.. In spite of the
potential of it (an end) all happening again… in spite of the
occasional pity parties I’ve forced you to attend.. I’d do it
again in a heartbeat.
So… tell me about your day.. How you feel… Let’s go on a date..
Here’s a rose.. And if you’ll check in the back pocket of your jeans
there’s a note that says “I love your butt.”
Seen her?
Happy mad, amorous… Love, Victurd
Saturday, October 20, 2007
How to survive on a deserted island…
Well… I hear water is important, so… in effort to make sure and get good, clean, non-bacterial water - my current drink of choice is Miller Lite… distilled to get the yuck out.. Safe… Even, upon occasion, makes me funny.. (talking…. And looking)… I also find, it aids in “prettying up” the opposite sex…. And.. Assists me in walking up and saying stupid things like “Heavy Penguins”:… huh?…. Icebreakers..
Distress signals… Ya gotta get off the island.. And you don’t have to be an advertising exec when you find yourself in this predicament… I’ve tried, Matchdoctor, Match, Yahoo, Singlesnet, MySpace, MSN, bars, sport‘s teams, bowling, work, etc... And I just haven’t been able to entice - THE RIDE off the island… There’ve been a few who’ve tried to save me - but there always seems to be boat motor problems, airplane prop failure, no gas, no lift… which is all fancy for Goldilocks’s “too this… too that.. Not enough…” etc. No “just right” yet. And, even had one or two say “thanks, but I think I’ll save this other person instead.” Good thing I happen to like coconuts (and water!)..
Enjoy the view and consider it a vacation… Oh believe me I do.. I very much enjoy eyeballing other’s that are stranded.. Occasionally I see one I believe we as a team could make it back to society - but generally the other person ain’t got the interest in survival - or, perhaps has boat motor problems, airplane prop failure, no gas, etc.
Join groups… ease the worry by surrounding yourself with others.. Uh huh.. Helps.. break time.. After hour fun… watching ballgames together… sometimes plain old people watching is fun… Yes, I am seedy.. Upon occasion I see another distressed, stranded person and wonder what they’d look like in a coconut shell bikini….
Snakes…. Watchout… most snakes on deserted island are poisonous.. There are snakes allover.. Don’t associate with snakes… they come in many sizes and shapes… and can even have the appearance of being harmless.. Caution.. Don’t go there.. If you think you’ve found a friend.. And they demonstrate snakelike qualities.. Don’t invest more time here..
Food… eat greens and berries.. They’re colorful, and good for you… Additionally, they might help you/me trim down.. And this generally makes for obtaining a lift off the island easier.. Don’t believe “Save the whales”… People like rescuing fit folks…
Fire.. You gots to have fire for your cigs… you gots to have fire to start a romance… find a way to be ‘found’. Fire is erotic. It’s warm. It’s fun to look at.. Fire is passion. Fire fuels survival - and it can make two bond, be rescued.
If all else fails, call Onstar. Tell ‘em you promise to act on one of those GD daily junk mail letters from Capitol One, and that if they get you off the island - you’ll pay them back with Cap One Visa.
Actually… life here on the island ain’t bad… I could stand getting laid at least every other month though… and… the sand in the crack of the butt I could do without.. But generally, life ain’t bad… I’d rather be stranded here alone than together on and island alone. I’ve heard people say they’ve been in relationships where they’ve felt more alone than when actually alone. Must be the snakes. Or prop failure. Or, too much ‘water’. Sumpin.
May your life be tropical. May you have wonderful, mad amorous sex if you get rescued… May you find that pair of eyeballs that simply say, “yes, this is it. I’m home. I’m rescued.”
Shit. Now where’d I put that sunscreen? Like sand down our crack, so go the days of our lives....
Love, Victurd
Distress signals… Ya gotta get off the island.. And you don’t have to be an advertising exec when you find yourself in this predicament… I’ve tried, Matchdoctor, Match, Yahoo, Singlesnet, MySpace, MSN, bars, sport‘s teams, bowling, work, etc... And I just haven’t been able to entice - THE RIDE off the island… There’ve been a few who’ve tried to save me - but there always seems to be boat motor problems, airplane prop failure, no gas, no lift… which is all fancy for Goldilocks’s “too this… too that.. Not enough…” etc. No “just right” yet. And, even had one or two say “thanks, but I think I’ll save this other person instead.” Good thing I happen to like coconuts (and water!)..
Enjoy the view and consider it a vacation… Oh believe me I do.. I very much enjoy eyeballing other’s that are stranded.. Occasionally I see one I believe we as a team could make it back to society - but generally the other person ain’t got the interest in survival - or, perhaps has boat motor problems, airplane prop failure, no gas, etc.
Join groups… ease the worry by surrounding yourself with others.. Uh huh.. Helps.. break time.. After hour fun… watching ballgames together… sometimes plain old people watching is fun… Yes, I am seedy.. Upon occasion I see another distressed, stranded person and wonder what they’d look like in a coconut shell bikini….
Snakes…. Watchout… most snakes on deserted island are poisonous.. There are snakes allover.. Don’t associate with snakes… they come in many sizes and shapes… and can even have the appearance of being harmless.. Caution.. Don’t go there.. If you think you’ve found a friend.. And they demonstrate snakelike qualities.. Don’t invest more time here..
Food… eat greens and berries.. They’re colorful, and good for you… Additionally, they might help you/me trim down.. And this generally makes for obtaining a lift off the island easier.. Don’t believe “Save the whales”… People like rescuing fit folks…
Fire.. You gots to have fire for your cigs… you gots to have fire to start a romance… find a way to be ‘found’. Fire is erotic. It’s warm. It’s fun to look at.. Fire is passion. Fire fuels survival - and it can make two bond, be rescued.
If all else fails, call Onstar. Tell ‘em you promise to act on one of those GD daily junk mail letters from Capitol One, and that if they get you off the island - you’ll pay them back with Cap One Visa.
Actually… life here on the island ain’t bad… I could stand getting laid at least every other month though… and… the sand in the crack of the butt I could do without.. But generally, life ain’t bad… I’d rather be stranded here alone than together on and island alone. I’ve heard people say they’ve been in relationships where they’ve felt more alone than when actually alone. Must be the snakes. Or prop failure. Or, too much ‘water’. Sumpin.
May your life be tropical. May you have wonderful, mad amorous sex if you get rescued… May you find that pair of eyeballs that simply say, “yes, this is it. I’m home. I’m rescued.”
Shit. Now where’d I put that sunscreen? Like sand down our crack, so go the days of our lives....
Love, Victurd
Thursday, October 18, 2007
I know to you.. it might sound strange.. but I wish it would rain... oh how I wish that it would rain...
My son… He patrols, cleans, monitors, the downtown streets of Kansas City… from Broadway - to three blocks West… between like 8th and 13th… His little circle of the world…
He repeatedly tells me “you don’t know what hard work is…. My days are hard… I see bums.. I pickup other’s crap… I deal with dope addicts…” etc, etc, etc… “I wish I had your job… and made your fat paycheck.”
Well… I kinda wish he had my job too… little basta (said with love) could help out hella more than he’s able to do now financially!
Where were we… oh yea… rain…
Unlike my friend Tom.. Who relates “I went to work for the Ford Motor Company in 1972, and I’ve been there ever since”… nomme… nope… huh uh… I’ve experienced the rain..
My son feels I’ve sat in a cubicle since Nixon was in office. Hardly so. I’ve lined ball fields… I’ve hauled sod (YUCK!).. I’ve owned a delivery service (ya get out, no matta the weather).. I worked for three, count ‘em THREE, airlines… (THE WORST, standing in the rain, loading an airplane..)… the little pansies that never get up in the ‘bin’ during the good weather to work on their knees… now allofasudden, feel the urge to do so…
I carried mail.. How do they say? Rain, sleet, snow?..
Working in the rain is the worst… Gimme cold… I’m ok… Gimme snow.. I can tread… Gimme 100 degrees plus.. I’m allright… I can sweat with the best of them…
Rain - it alters one’s approach…
I do wish though… we’d take on life like we do rain…. Huh? No, I’m serious.. Have you watched people in the rain? F-in A Ray, they’re intent… focused… lean… to the point… hustling… the goal = “Get there”…
Imagine if it rained 24/7, 365... We’d all be more focused… We’d all get to it… We’d all not stop for idle talk.. Insteada “how’s ur day?” we’d simply offer “hi” and get on with things…
Now I’m not one to wish the day away… Believe me, I enjoy laid back… and feel I am laid back…
But mebbe if we could focus on problems… loved ones… money situations… wavering on “do I do this or do I do that?”… our weight.. Our health.. Our relationship.. Our lack of relationship.. … If we could focus on all that crap like how we focus on what we’re doing/where we’re going when it rains….it’d be a good thing.
Rain forces “haveta.” The path. I must. I’m hungry, therefore I must. Hurry. No fat, cut to the bone, the straightest path.
Please close your ears… I can’t remember what it’s like to have sex listening to the rain. I do hereby promise, if in my lifetime I should again have sex within earshot of listening to a rainstorm - to report back to you on just how heavenly it was.
Funny, kinda, how much so much stuff relates to life… in the rain = focused. Outta the rain = glad.. comforted… so perked by the auditory senses..
I’m not certain I could make it in the temperate rain forests of Washington… Southern Norway.. Northern Spain… New Zealand…etc… I fear I’d have no fingernails.. And be too damned tired/tense/ready to fall asleep to ever have dreams of “oh baby oh baby” again.
I do enjoy rain being a reminder. Focus. Get there. Plan a path. Shortest distance between two points.
Life, it be interesting, no matta the weather.
‘Sunshine blue skies please go away.. The girl has found anotherandgone away… With her went my future my life is filled with gloom.. So day after day I stay locked up in my room.. I now to you, it might sound strange, but I wish it would rain,”
On second thought.. Maybe being in the rain ain’t so bad. You can’t rain on my parade… Happy drips… love, Victurd
He repeatedly tells me “you don’t know what hard work is…. My days are hard… I see bums.. I pickup other’s crap… I deal with dope addicts…” etc, etc, etc… “I wish I had your job… and made your fat paycheck.”
Well… I kinda wish he had my job too… little basta (said with love) could help out hella more than he’s able to do now financially!
Where were we… oh yea… rain…
Unlike my friend Tom.. Who relates “I went to work for the Ford Motor Company in 1972, and I’ve been there ever since”… nomme… nope… huh uh… I’ve experienced the rain..
My son feels I’ve sat in a cubicle since Nixon was in office. Hardly so. I’ve lined ball fields… I’ve hauled sod (YUCK!).. I’ve owned a delivery service (ya get out, no matta the weather).. I worked for three, count ‘em THREE, airlines… (THE WORST, standing in the rain, loading an airplane..)… the little pansies that never get up in the ‘bin’ during the good weather to work on their knees… now allofasudden, feel the urge to do so…
I carried mail.. How do they say? Rain, sleet, snow?..
Working in the rain is the worst… Gimme cold… I’m ok… Gimme snow.. I can tread… Gimme 100 degrees plus.. I’m allright… I can sweat with the best of them…
Rain - it alters one’s approach…
I do wish though… we’d take on life like we do rain…. Huh? No, I’m serious.. Have you watched people in the rain? F-in A Ray, they’re intent… focused… lean… to the point… hustling… the goal = “Get there”…
Imagine if it rained 24/7, 365... We’d all be more focused… We’d all get to it… We’d all not stop for idle talk.. Insteada “how’s ur day?” we’d simply offer “hi” and get on with things…
Now I’m not one to wish the day away… Believe me, I enjoy laid back… and feel I am laid back…
But mebbe if we could focus on problems… loved ones… money situations… wavering on “do I do this or do I do that?”… our weight.. Our health.. Our relationship.. Our lack of relationship.. … If we could focus on all that crap like how we focus on what we’re doing/where we’re going when it rains….it’d be a good thing.
Rain forces “haveta.” The path. I must. I’m hungry, therefore I must. Hurry. No fat, cut to the bone, the straightest path.
Please close your ears… I can’t remember what it’s like to have sex listening to the rain. I do hereby promise, if in my lifetime I should again have sex within earshot of listening to a rainstorm - to report back to you on just how heavenly it was.
Funny, kinda, how much so much stuff relates to life… in the rain = focused. Outta the rain = glad.. comforted… so perked by the auditory senses..
I’m not certain I could make it in the temperate rain forests of Washington… Southern Norway.. Northern Spain… New Zealand…etc… I fear I’d have no fingernails.. And be too damned tired/tense/ready to fall asleep to ever have dreams of “oh baby oh baby” again.
I do enjoy rain being a reminder. Focus. Get there. Plan a path. Shortest distance between two points.
Life, it be interesting, no matta the weather.
‘Sunshine blue skies please go away.. The girl has found anotherandgone away… With her went my future my life is filled with gloom.. So day after day I stay locked up in my room.. I now to you, it might sound strange, but I wish it would rain,”
On second thought.. Maybe being in the rain ain’t so bad. You can’t rain on my parade… Happy drips… love, Victurd
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Intermittent.....
Driving in… the rain was spotty.. raining soft enough that if you left the wipers on full bore – they’d make the hideous dry-ruhhmmpp-ruhhmmpp-ruhhmmpp-ing noise.. yet, fast enough – you still had to have them make their occasional swath to unobstruct the view ahead…
Then I wasa thinkin’… ain’t that kinda like times in life?... There are days, weeks, months, sometimes years where baby, when it rains – it pours… we thinka every single way to ‘make a swath – clear the view ahead’… Frustration sets in.. nerves/muscles tense… worry is magnified… edge of seat.. lack of traction – spin outs possible..
Then, brilliant days of sun… sun in our lives… with mebbe an occasional brief, rainbow-y Hawaii-like rain.. and the Rain-X is all we need.. nothing can wipe the smile from our faces – obstruct our way, our direction, our view.. Relaxation comes easy.. The view is so much clearer.. enjoyable… Auto-pilot… cruise control..
The rollercoaster.. The intermittent periods of life.. Faster, make them wipers go faster.. What’s that? A raise in pay?. Cool.. lemme turn the speeda these things down a bit… WHAT? So-and-so has been let go and I’M to pickup a sizeable chunka their work at the SAME rate of pay?.. Twist, faster wipers, faster…. Hump-thump-hump-thump-hump-thump….
Ahhh, the weekend… s l o w e r… a l i t t l e s l o w e r… Ahhhhh sun… Let’s have a nice cold one, no hurry to go, no hurry to do.. just be….enjoy…
Nighttime, panic, downpour – HELLLPPP!!! CAN’T SEE.. Bills, bills, bills… Family problems… health concerns… the parta the house needs this, that parta the house needs that.. FASTER BABY – FASTER.. swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash…
Morning time… I smell the coffee… I heard the paper hit the drive… regular.. I like regular.. sound of the familiar local TV anchors in the background… wardrobe waiting patiently for the decision… cats stretching to start their own day… (with intermittent naps)… no wipers needed…
I guess what I’m trying to tell myself… what them bastards tried to tell me when I hated Boy Scouts and dropped out to play baseball every day instead… “be prepared”… there’s all kinds of rains.. downpours.. Spring – flower producing rains… damned cold rains… freezing rain… soft, intermittent rain… hot/cold… fast/slow… sporadic/steady…
Life’s the windshield.. we’re the wiper –and we’re in control.. Change your blades frequently.. and keep the windshield washer fluid tank full… ready.. prepared… up, down.. highs, lows.. oh shit’s/oh baby’s.. OH NO, HELLLL YES..
swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash…
Happy ‘driving’, love Victurd
Then I wasa thinkin’… ain’t that kinda like times in life?... There are days, weeks, months, sometimes years where baby, when it rains – it pours… we thinka every single way to ‘make a swath – clear the view ahead’… Frustration sets in.. nerves/muscles tense… worry is magnified… edge of seat.. lack of traction – spin outs possible..
Then, brilliant days of sun… sun in our lives… with mebbe an occasional brief, rainbow-y Hawaii-like rain.. and the Rain-X is all we need.. nothing can wipe the smile from our faces – obstruct our way, our direction, our view.. Relaxation comes easy.. The view is so much clearer.. enjoyable… Auto-pilot… cruise control..
The rollercoaster.. The intermittent periods of life.. Faster, make them wipers go faster.. What’s that? A raise in pay?. Cool.. lemme turn the speeda these things down a bit… WHAT? So-and-so has been let go and I’M to pickup a sizeable chunka their work at the SAME rate of pay?.. Twist, faster wipers, faster…. Hump-thump-hump-thump-hump-thump….
Ahhh, the weekend… s l o w e r… a l i t t l e s l o w e r… Ahhhhh sun… Let’s have a nice cold one, no hurry to go, no hurry to do.. just be….enjoy…
Nighttime, panic, downpour – HELLLPPP!!! CAN’T SEE.. Bills, bills, bills… Family problems… health concerns… the parta the house needs this, that parta the house needs that.. FASTER BABY – FASTER.. swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash…
Morning time… I smell the coffee… I heard the paper hit the drive… regular.. I like regular.. sound of the familiar local TV anchors in the background… wardrobe waiting patiently for the decision… cats stretching to start their own day… (with intermittent naps)… no wipers needed…
I guess what I’m trying to tell myself… what them bastards tried to tell me when I hated Boy Scouts and dropped out to play baseball every day instead… “be prepared”… there’s all kinds of rains.. downpours.. Spring – flower producing rains… damned cold rains… freezing rain… soft, intermittent rain… hot/cold… fast/slow… sporadic/steady…
Life’s the windshield.. we’re the wiper –and we’re in control.. Change your blades frequently.. and keep the windshield washer fluid tank full… ready.. prepared… up, down.. highs, lows.. oh shit’s/oh baby’s.. OH NO, HELLLL YES..
swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash…
Happy ‘driving’, love Victurd
Sunday, October 14, 2007
The Sport's Page and life.....
We ogres dress in our beloved team’s apparel… Tailgate, be it at home or actually in the Parking lot of the stadium… GLUE’ed to the game, whether from the comfy chair/remote tightly held to check on other scores during commercials/halftime… or from Section 132...
Then - the next day we SPRING to the door the moment the paper pounces on the pavement… and reread inch by inch - everything we saw from the games(s) we saw from the day before…
Sports can really be ugly… the NBA ref betting on games. The NBA quarterback killing dogs.. The boxer taking a bite outta another’s ear.. Guns, weapons, drugs, booze, performance enhancers….
Then a day like today happens… I open the Sport’s Page… somewhere between the 3 pages written on my beloved Missouri Tigers loss… and the weather on the back pagea the sports - comes logic, reason.. And wonderment… Hey, here's a "Where are they now?" article...
Brad Budde… now 49... Is a local kid who made good.. He hadta.. You see his father is in the Chief’s Hall of Fame… was All-Pro this.. All-Pro that… He hadta follow in his footsteps.. He did so.. Kinda…From Rockhurst High School.. To USC.. And drafted by his dad’s team.. The Kansas City Chiefs.. He wasn’t All-Pro.. Never played in the Super Bowl like dad. Really, almost a 'pedestrian' career (Yet 7 years in the NFL is nothing to scoff at…)
Glancing back.. Re relates - life is made up of seasons…he’s now in the ‘season’ of being a physical therapist, father and husband.. “This is probably the happiest I’ve ever been. I’ve found tremendous value in giving my gifts away instead of my gifts serving me. There’s beauty in success and failure - and that’s how you discover your strength in your faith. If you have a good woman beside you and a nice family of support, it doesn’t get any better than that.”
Let’s see.. The Wizard’s score.. Holyfield loses.. Three kids from foreign countries playing at Blue Springs South… oh yeah.. Here’s one… Clint Hurdle..
Clint Hurdle.. Now manager of the Colorado Rockies.. A tough road to hoe he’s led.. Labeled “Wonder Boy” in the late 70’s - his baseball career fizzled.. After landing in 1978 on the front cover of Sport’s Illustrated (“This Year’s Phenom”).. he stuck around for bits and pieces of 10 years in the majors.. Mostly as a late inning replacement.. Pinch hitter.. Ne’er living up to phenom.
Bouts with alcoholism, two divorces.. He struggled… but… he worked his way back up.. Starting in the base level as a manager in the minors - advancing thru every level - to finally arrive as a major league hitting instructor a few years back… and now finally manager - leading his team into this years World Series..
Lessons learned along the way? “Baseball is a game, and I’ve learned that. Let’s keep it a game.”
A Denver TV reporter dropped the words “crushing” and “debilitating” on Hurdle after a recent loss.. Hurdle’s take? “Crushing was when a doctor told me my little girl was born with a birth defect.” (Five year old Madison… born with Prader-Willi Syndrome.. A rare and complex genetic disorder that causes low muscle tone, developmental delays, morbid obesity,and cognitive disabilities…) Crushing. "That very day" (of the reporter's words)I'd gotten a call from a mother at Children's Hospital that wanted me to come see her son before he was going to pass that night. That's debilitating."
Texas clobbers Iowa State.. William Jewell knocks off Culber-Stockton... Two area guys got hole in ones.. Forecast today 78...
I knew there was a reason I loved the Sport’s Page. Happy Sunday, love Victurd.
Then - the next day we SPRING to the door the moment the paper pounces on the pavement… and reread inch by inch - everything we saw from the games(s) we saw from the day before…
Sports can really be ugly… the NBA ref betting on games. The NBA quarterback killing dogs.. The boxer taking a bite outta another’s ear.. Guns, weapons, drugs, booze, performance enhancers….
Then a day like today happens… I open the Sport’s Page… somewhere between the 3 pages written on my beloved Missouri Tigers loss… and the weather on the back pagea the sports - comes logic, reason.. And wonderment… Hey, here's a "Where are they now?" article...
Brad Budde… now 49... Is a local kid who made good.. He hadta.. You see his father is in the Chief’s Hall of Fame… was All-Pro this.. All-Pro that… He hadta follow in his footsteps.. He did so.. Kinda…From Rockhurst High School.. To USC.. And drafted by his dad’s team.. The Kansas City Chiefs.. He wasn’t All-Pro.. Never played in the Super Bowl like dad. Really, almost a 'pedestrian' career (Yet 7 years in the NFL is nothing to scoff at…)
Glancing back.. Re relates - life is made up of seasons…he’s now in the ‘season’ of being a physical therapist, father and husband.. “This is probably the happiest I’ve ever been. I’ve found tremendous value in giving my gifts away instead of my gifts serving me. There’s beauty in success and failure - and that’s how you discover your strength in your faith. If you have a good woman beside you and a nice family of support, it doesn’t get any better than that.”
Let’s see.. The Wizard’s score.. Holyfield loses.. Three kids from foreign countries playing at Blue Springs South… oh yeah.. Here’s one… Clint Hurdle..
Clint Hurdle.. Now manager of the Colorado Rockies.. A tough road to hoe he’s led.. Labeled “Wonder Boy” in the late 70’s - his baseball career fizzled.. After landing in 1978 on the front cover of Sport’s Illustrated (“This Year’s Phenom”).. he stuck around for bits and pieces of 10 years in the majors.. Mostly as a late inning replacement.. Pinch hitter.. Ne’er living up to phenom.
Bouts with alcoholism, two divorces.. He struggled… but… he worked his way back up.. Starting in the base level as a manager in the minors - advancing thru every level - to finally arrive as a major league hitting instructor a few years back… and now finally manager - leading his team into this years World Series..
Lessons learned along the way? “Baseball is a game, and I’ve learned that. Let’s keep it a game.”
A Denver TV reporter dropped the words “crushing” and “debilitating” on Hurdle after a recent loss.. Hurdle’s take? “Crushing was when a doctor told me my little girl was born with a birth defect.” (Five year old Madison… born with Prader-Willi Syndrome.. A rare and complex genetic disorder that causes low muscle tone, developmental delays, morbid obesity,and cognitive disabilities…) Crushing. "That very day" (of the reporter's words)I'd gotten a call from a mother at Children's Hospital that wanted me to come see her son before he was going to pass that night. That's debilitating."
Texas clobbers Iowa State.. William Jewell knocks off Culber-Stockton... Two area guys got hole in ones.. Forecast today 78...
I knew there was a reason I loved the Sport’s Page. Happy Sunday, love Victurd.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Love, magnetism, feel and "oh baby"s......
Just like Romeo and Juliette…
Love makes the world go round… We all, probably, have been there..
Me thinks I’ve mentioned before I can fall in love twelve times during a short breakfast at the Piggly Wiggly… This passion has caused others consternation… and, it’s assuredly caused me consternation as well.. being on the dumped end…
Don’t care… I’m ready again…
Seena chicky in our lobby awaiting an interview.. fell again… GD I wish I had pull with HR.
Magnetism.. Reckon that’s kinda like love.. ‘Ceptin’ magnetism comes from both parties.. I’d be party to that again. Woah, sure had my halfa goin’ with the lobby lady…
When single, I feel moreso than when in a pair, the ups and the downs come with regularity.. The “I’ll probably never again”s are tossed about inbetweengst the “oh baby oh baby”s…
Was good to have a, albeit brief, oh baby moment. I can feel again. I feel it. Tis a good thing. It’s just a difficult thing to find that magnetism – and I’ve learned even more difficult to keep both parties enamored in that.
God Bless those of you who have entered into, and stayed in relationships with magnetism/love. Reckon we’re all students of life – and I hope I gradjagate to that someday… someday before I pee my pants and forget my name… someday while I can still… oh, nevermind. You get the drift.
May life be magnetic for you. And, may you find an opposite pole. Mind outta gutter, we’re talking magnet here.
Talk about love and romance
Just wait 'til I get myself straight
I'm gonna put Romeo's fame
Right smack-dab on a date
Ah, all right, now, I'm speculatin'
Wonder what tomorrow's gonna really bring
If I don't (if I don't) find work tomorrow
It's gonna be (gonna be) heartaches 'n' sorrow
Our love's gonna be destroyed like a tragedy
Just like Romeo and Juliet
Love, (and romance… and magnetism) Victurd…..
Love makes the world go round… We all, probably, have been there..
Me thinks I’ve mentioned before I can fall in love twelve times during a short breakfast at the Piggly Wiggly… This passion has caused others consternation… and, it’s assuredly caused me consternation as well.. being on the dumped end…
Don’t care… I’m ready again…
Seena chicky in our lobby awaiting an interview.. fell again… GD I wish I had pull with HR.
Magnetism.. Reckon that’s kinda like love.. ‘Ceptin’ magnetism comes from both parties.. I’d be party to that again. Woah, sure had my halfa goin’ with the lobby lady…
When single, I feel moreso than when in a pair, the ups and the downs come with regularity.. The “I’ll probably never again”s are tossed about inbetweengst the “oh baby oh baby”s…
Was good to have a, albeit brief, oh baby moment. I can feel again. I feel it. Tis a good thing. It’s just a difficult thing to find that magnetism – and I’ve learned even more difficult to keep both parties enamored in that.
God Bless those of you who have entered into, and stayed in relationships with magnetism/love. Reckon we’re all students of life – and I hope I gradjagate to that someday… someday before I pee my pants and forget my name… someday while I can still… oh, nevermind. You get the drift.
May life be magnetic for you. And, may you find an opposite pole. Mind outta gutter, we’re talking magnet here.
Talk about love and romance
Just wait 'til I get myself straight
I'm gonna put Romeo's fame
Right smack-dab on a date
Ah, all right, now, I'm speculatin'
Wonder what tomorrow's gonna really bring
If I don't (if I don't) find work tomorrow
It's gonna be (gonna be) heartaches 'n' sorrow
Our love's gonna be destroyed like a tragedy
Just like Romeo and Juliet
Love, (and romance… and magnetism) Victurd…..
Saturday, October 06, 2007
I been in the write place, but it musta been the wrong time…..
Just ain’t felt like writing… A confidence thing I rectum… Had a bit of a shock on the way home from Piggly Wiggly breakfast this morning… Stopped at the light… Green… went… noticed car beside me… looked over.. One young person (ok, 40-something, how’s that).. And three ‘dead people’ in there with him.. They were fighting to stay awake - I swear.. And just looking’ at ‘em.. You could see ‘em in their coffins… sad…
I/you possibly, are ‘tween that… the 40-something, and the dead-something.. Made me wanna peel out… dance… sing… walk… (close your ears) “that”… live… breathe.. Run… Victor, you can’t still run.. Screw you.. I’m getting’ an over fittie basketball team formed… ask them dead people… “hey, twenty five years ago, do you wish you’da played basketball? “What’s that sonny?”… uh huh, what I thought..
I’ma thinking’ we gotta keep movin’ to keep from being in the dead car... I seen dead people..
Movin’ today.. Me.. Four fellow High School hooligans headed to Columbia to watch the college football game between the University of Missouri and Nebraska… Will be 60,000 of us MU fans… and 10,000 Cornhuskers.. Good time… good eats… good drinks… good friends… good fun… movin’.. keep on a movin’…
Not long ago, 2001, I literally felt as if life was over.. Well… reckon I was wrong.. I wasn’t ready to be in that dead car.. It ain’t been remarkable - but I’ve had remarkable times… Drove to Biloxi, MS for a weekend of bliss… Been to the finest Bed and Breakfast in the state of Missouri, stayed in the finest room.. With the largest, blue lighted Jacuzzi you ever did see.. I went down the Mamba… Rode a horse.. Well, hope it counts even if the damn thing only stayed in the corner of the arena… Walked the French Quarters… The Katy Trail.. The 3-mile lap at Watkins Mill..
I’ve been privy to suites at the Chief’s games.. I’ve walked outta the Ameristar up a grand… I’ve camped next to the river… I’ve danced.. Same ole “too white - no rhythm, yet I still danced… I’ve been on dates in six states (Mo, Ks, Ia, La, Ms, Ar)… I’ve had BBQ’s, fancy dinners, dinners at joints you could write your name on the wall, outdoor diners, mom & pop joints, fast food joints, Piggly Wiggly breakfast.. Weddings.. Made out in a train car, a car, a truck, a van, an SUV, a boat..
Gifts.. Flowers.. “that”.. excitement… emails… notes… phone calls.. Overnights.. Weekends.. Live ins.. Swam in rivers, creeks, lakes, pools.. GoKarts, bowled, played softball, organized work outings to the Dogs, the Royals, a Sport’s park…
Bottomline, I guess, I ain’t dead… Dying.. We’re all dying… but I ain’t dead..
Gotta run… Victor, need we remind you you can’t run.. Screw you… I’m going to pack for the trip… and THEN, practice my crossover dribble you asswipe…
So we, the group ‘tween 40-something and dead - can continue to live/move/breathe, and stay outta the dead car. Here’s to living. Love, Victurd…
I/you possibly, are ‘tween that… the 40-something, and the dead-something.. Made me wanna peel out… dance… sing… walk… (close your ears) “that”… live… breathe.. Run… Victor, you can’t still run.. Screw you.. I’m getting’ an over fittie basketball team formed… ask them dead people… “hey, twenty five years ago, do you wish you’da played basketball? “What’s that sonny?”… uh huh, what I thought..
I’ma thinking’ we gotta keep movin’ to keep from being in the dead car... I seen dead people..
Movin’ today.. Me.. Four fellow High School hooligans headed to Columbia to watch the college football game between the University of Missouri and Nebraska… Will be 60,000 of us MU fans… and 10,000 Cornhuskers.. Good time… good eats… good drinks… good friends… good fun… movin’.. keep on a movin’…
Not long ago, 2001, I literally felt as if life was over.. Well… reckon I was wrong.. I wasn’t ready to be in that dead car.. It ain’t been remarkable - but I’ve had remarkable times… Drove to Biloxi, MS for a weekend of bliss… Been to the finest Bed and Breakfast in the state of Missouri, stayed in the finest room.. With the largest, blue lighted Jacuzzi you ever did see.. I went down the Mamba… Rode a horse.. Well, hope it counts even if the damn thing only stayed in the corner of the arena… Walked the French Quarters… The Katy Trail.. The 3-mile lap at Watkins Mill..
I’ve been privy to suites at the Chief’s games.. I’ve walked outta the Ameristar up a grand… I’ve camped next to the river… I’ve danced.. Same ole “too white - no rhythm, yet I still danced… I’ve been on dates in six states (Mo, Ks, Ia, La, Ms, Ar)… I’ve had BBQ’s, fancy dinners, dinners at joints you could write your name on the wall, outdoor diners, mom & pop joints, fast food joints, Piggly Wiggly breakfast.. Weddings.. Made out in a train car, a car, a truck, a van, an SUV, a boat..
Gifts.. Flowers.. “that”.. excitement… emails… notes… phone calls.. Overnights.. Weekends.. Live ins.. Swam in rivers, creeks, lakes, pools.. GoKarts, bowled, played softball, organized work outings to the Dogs, the Royals, a Sport’s park…
Bottomline, I guess, I ain’t dead… Dying.. We’re all dying… but I ain’t dead..
Gotta run… Victor, need we remind you you can’t run.. Screw you… I’m going to pack for the trip… and THEN, practice my crossover dribble you asswipe…
So we, the group ‘tween 40-something and dead - can continue to live/move/breathe, and stay outta the dead car. Here’s to living. Love, Victurd…
Monday, October 01, 2007
Dear mom......
My mother is here - but only in spirit. I shouldn’t use the word ‘only’ - ‘cause like virtually all moms - she was highly impactive in my life. Lucky I was - she just had this way of making a redheaded frecklefaced lefthanded kid feel special. Mom’s rock.
Mom - Friday Night I went with fellow hooligans to the Royal’s game.. We met at the bar (surprise surprise) and we sped out - arrived at the game in the top of the 2nd inning. Yes, I do remember how hard it was for you to awaken me in 7th grade - but you didn’t know what it was like to sit in Mr. Karsten’s Science class having no idea in heck what he was talking about.
T, C, and I mostly looked at women insteada fastballs and sliders during the game - and we know we’re in our fitties, but please know - it was just like we were at a HS football game - the excitement it held. Remember when I broke my arm playing football my Senior year after the 5th game and you felt so badly for me… but the truth was… I watched the final 5 games amidst the Pep Club. Had I known how much fun that was, I think I woulda feinted injury weeks earlier!
Saturday.. I went to work Saturday… I think I get that from you mom.. I remember your deadlines you had - and how the clock didn’t matter during those - and how you never-ever missed one… yet still you managed to fend for the household in a brilliant way. Does it count that I did go thru McDonalds for Maynard after work Saturday evening? (And I’m pretty certain I even remembered the trash last Thursday!)
Sunday… The Best… Mom, your sister’s daughter Joyce - had tickets for us all to the last Royal’s game of the year.. I know to some, that doesn’t sound exciting going to see the last place team the last game of the year… Do you remember my sophomore year though - when the World Series was first held during the day.. And I went to the office and said I had “the runs”.. and you picked me up waiving a roll of toilet paper out the window?
Buddy Bell, manager of the Royal’s… 56 yrs old.. Is quitting this day.. He’s been in pro baseball on a daily basis since he was 19 years old. You see mom, I’m kinda reminded of when you had your stroke and dad quit his job to fend for you (cooking, cleaning, making bucks selling cars outta the driveway).. Buddy’s wife had a scare a few years back with a cancer normally related to someone that uses nicotine.. She’d never used nicotine in her life - but the day she found out - Buddy never smoked another cig…
Buddy had a scare last year too -- he had throat cancer… so it wonderfully skewed his eyeballs as to how precious life is… Buddy - who will understandably miss baseball tremendously, it’s been his life, it was his dad’s life - can’t wait to get home to his 21 year old daughter who happens to have Downs Syndrome. He can’t wait to play catch in the yard with his grandkids. Do you remember mom, since dad traveled in sales the majority of his working career - how it was you that played catch with me in the yard? You actually weren’t bad… for a girl!
Anyways, they gave Buddy a present - and bid him best wishes… The Cleveland Indians, the opponents this day, were on the top step clapping ceremoniously… The entire Royal’s team came out for a big “group hug” around Buddy… Mom, I literally cried as hard Sunday as I did the day Brownie died… I could actually feel you there rubbing my back… The cry and the rub rocked…
Afterwards mom, I watched the Chiefs come back from 13 points down… Do you remember when I usedta run off to William Jewell when the Chief’s trained there and I’d catch Jan Stenerud’s kicks on the practice field? The association mom - it reminded me of you.
Mom, I’m sure you’re aware there’ve been occasional bumps in the road here since you left… but lemme tellya - I love life tons… I’m frequently reminded of you.. Especially when I write - cause I know I don’t hold a candle to your writing. You’re my writing hero (or would that technically be heroine?) And, I've found, no matter what one drives, there are bumps in the road...
It’s been so good to jot this note to you… Please tell dad I miss him.. And tell Vanda (my sister) that her grandson is the best damn football player in Grain Valley. He’s justa sophomore now mom - but he’s defensive captain, and last weekend, it almost got embarrassing how many times they called his name for tackles… I’m talking like 20+ mom. Hey, I SEE Vanda’s smile! Yes!
I better go now.. Kinda like the old days.. Always off running to this, to that… You see.. The hooligans and I are soon off to go see MU and Nebraska play… lotsa planning.. Gotta work on my pre-game exercises for my peripheral vision for more astute women watching!…
I loveya mom.. I missya mom… I’d give anything for a plate of your Spanish Rice mom… I’ll seeya someday (I hope) mom.. Love, Victurd.
Mom - Friday Night I went with fellow hooligans to the Royal’s game.. We met at the bar (surprise surprise) and we sped out - arrived at the game in the top of the 2nd inning. Yes, I do remember how hard it was for you to awaken me in 7th grade - but you didn’t know what it was like to sit in Mr. Karsten’s Science class having no idea in heck what he was talking about.
T, C, and I mostly looked at women insteada fastballs and sliders during the game - and we know we’re in our fitties, but please know - it was just like we were at a HS football game - the excitement it held. Remember when I broke my arm playing football my Senior year after the 5th game and you felt so badly for me… but the truth was… I watched the final 5 games amidst the Pep Club. Had I known how much fun that was, I think I woulda feinted injury weeks earlier!
Saturday.. I went to work Saturday… I think I get that from you mom.. I remember your deadlines you had - and how the clock didn’t matter during those - and how you never-ever missed one… yet still you managed to fend for the household in a brilliant way. Does it count that I did go thru McDonalds for Maynard after work Saturday evening? (And I’m pretty certain I even remembered the trash last Thursday!)
Sunday… The Best… Mom, your sister’s daughter Joyce - had tickets for us all to the last Royal’s game of the year.. I know to some, that doesn’t sound exciting going to see the last place team the last game of the year… Do you remember my sophomore year though - when the World Series was first held during the day.. And I went to the office and said I had “the runs”.. and you picked me up waiving a roll of toilet paper out the window?
Buddy Bell, manager of the Royal’s… 56 yrs old.. Is quitting this day.. He’s been in pro baseball on a daily basis since he was 19 years old. You see mom, I’m kinda reminded of when you had your stroke and dad quit his job to fend for you (cooking, cleaning, making bucks selling cars outta the driveway).. Buddy’s wife had a scare a few years back with a cancer normally related to someone that uses nicotine.. She’d never used nicotine in her life - but the day she found out - Buddy never smoked another cig…
Buddy had a scare last year too -- he had throat cancer… so it wonderfully skewed his eyeballs as to how precious life is… Buddy - who will understandably miss baseball tremendously, it’s been his life, it was his dad’s life - can’t wait to get home to his 21 year old daughter who happens to have Downs Syndrome. He can’t wait to play catch in the yard with his grandkids. Do you remember mom, since dad traveled in sales the majority of his working career - how it was you that played catch with me in the yard? You actually weren’t bad… for a girl!
Anyways, they gave Buddy a present - and bid him best wishes… The Cleveland Indians, the opponents this day, were on the top step clapping ceremoniously… The entire Royal’s team came out for a big “group hug” around Buddy… Mom, I literally cried as hard Sunday as I did the day Brownie died… I could actually feel you there rubbing my back… The cry and the rub rocked…
Afterwards mom, I watched the Chiefs come back from 13 points down… Do you remember when I usedta run off to William Jewell when the Chief’s trained there and I’d catch Jan Stenerud’s kicks on the practice field? The association mom - it reminded me of you.
Mom, I’m sure you’re aware there’ve been occasional bumps in the road here since you left… but lemme tellya - I love life tons… I’m frequently reminded of you.. Especially when I write - cause I know I don’t hold a candle to your writing. You’re my writing hero (or would that technically be heroine?) And, I've found, no matter what one drives, there are bumps in the road...
It’s been so good to jot this note to you… Please tell dad I miss him.. And tell Vanda (my sister) that her grandson is the best damn football player in Grain Valley. He’s justa sophomore now mom - but he’s defensive captain, and last weekend, it almost got embarrassing how many times they called his name for tackles… I’m talking like 20+ mom. Hey, I SEE Vanda’s smile! Yes!
I better go now.. Kinda like the old days.. Always off running to this, to that… You see.. The hooligans and I are soon off to go see MU and Nebraska play… lotsa planning.. Gotta work on my pre-game exercises for my peripheral vision for more astute women watching!…
I loveya mom.. I missya mom… I’d give anything for a plate of your Spanish Rice mom… I’ll seeya someday (I hope) mom.. Love, Victurd.
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