Que Sera, Sera….

When I was just a little boy
I asked my mother, what will I be
Will I be handsome, will I be rich
Here's what she said to me.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Well, a few months back some chicky called me “pretty boy”, yet another said after/during ‘you know‘ “you’re not what I want… what are you… 65?”.. both, sadly true…

I’ve never been rich… monetarily…

When I was young, I fell in love
I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead
Will we have rainbows, day after day
Here's what my sweetheart said.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Me thinks there was rainbows… Ohhhh not that there wasn’t hella sunshiny days - but they were intermixed with rain.. And toward the end, it rained like a sumbitch…

Now I have children of my own..
They ask their father, what will I be,
Will I be handsome, will I be rich,
I tell them tenderly...

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Frankly, Maynard never asks. He just says “Please go get me that, please go get me this. Will you pick me up there, then?”

So I ain’t real sure about that song. To me (all you young people will now go “huh?”) it’s ironic that Doris Day sings this, because if there was one thing in life that was predictable, it was a Doris Day movie. Que sera sera, what’s next on the reel we already see, que sera sera.

Do we paint our own futures - or are we a victim of them, a happy recipient of them?

I rectum if we knew what lies ahead - it wouldn’t be any fun. Does that cast a spell on visualization? I think not. Does it ‘snap’ hope? Not no but hells no. Does it mean we can’t wish for a parade without rain? Hardly.

Funny… we’re so in hurry of tomorrow we forget today. Wishing our lives away. I’ve been guilty of that. “Passing time until ‘her’. “

Thank goodness I write myself to remember to enjoy today, whatever will be will be.

When I was just a fitty five yr old old fart,
I asked my bloggers, what will I be
Will I be lonely, will I get laid
Here's what they said to me.

Doris? Doris can you hear me now? Dude? Are you still even living Doris? Even if the answer’s s’more o that que sera sera crap.. I rectum it’d be better than talking to/listening to this monitor.

I hope you’re pretty (or handsome).. I hope you’re rich… I hope you have rainbows… I hope you inspire your children…

It can get mighty lonely sleeping alone.. (No offense meant Jackson.. My wonderful Maine Coon cat)… Que Sera, Sera, Whatever will be, will be, The future's not ours, to see, Que Sera, Sera, What will be, will be…

Why isn’t life, like Doris, predictable? Nighty night… sweet dreams.. And whatever u do, don’t rollover on the cat… Love, Victurd.