A pissin’ me off….

Yeah, me.

I’m old, but I ain’t dead. I still get excited about stuff. (Mind outta gutter.)

Yes, fitty-four cent Senior coffee (in an hour’s time, saw three people I knew…), Piggly Wiggly for cat food (they were pissed at 6a this morn) struck up conversation with a man who happened to be black. Nice fella. I love small towns.

Anyways, first (of course) the Sport’s page. Pretty cool article about feller from small town in our State that had placed 2nd in the Olympic shot put. He wasn’t thrilled with the Silver, until he was asked “how will the folks back home (Eldon, MO) feel about this.” A smile permeated his face. They went on to relate how the entire community (his parents included) gathered at their Town Hall to watch him compete on two big screens. S’more.

They’d have a banner and a parade for him upon his return. “No, you guys don’t have to do that.” But it was clear. It was America. It was representing. Mebbe Silver ain’t so bad afterall.

Victor, I thought you were pissed. All that up there is “Feel goods”. Yeah, you’re right. But I am pissed and don’t gimme shit now about starting a sentence with ‘but’ because this, as I’ve reminded you, is a blog and I’ll do damn well what I please, including, but not limited to such things as “run on” sentences. Hehe.

Recently, dropped Maynard off at work downtown Kansas City. Drove past 15th and Grand, where our fine metropolitan newspaper is prepared and printed. Noticed some dudes outside in printer’s bibs.. Puffing on cigs. Then, today, in the ‘local’ section of the conglomo newspaper, there’s an editorial berating our community because we’ve not enacted the smoking laws virtually every other suburban town around has.

I ain’t real fond of editorials. You get ten folks in a room. Differing opinions, end up with six that think “this”, so “this” is what’s written on behalf of “all.” Tain’t right. I never understood how a large group with so many creative, wonderful, probably liberal minds could pigeon hole one belief on behalf of all. I’m thinkin’ ‘bout buying me some tobaccy, using their article to roll me up onea my own just for good measure.

Also thought it was kinda cool when preliminary “Second hand smoke, I’m gonna die” talks began in earnest in our town.. The bar owners suggested “ya know, cigs really are bad for you. How ‘bout we just don’t allow stores selling them in our fine city?” City leaders, seeing boo-koo tax dollars escaping from their coffers, decided to put off any final decisions until “next time.”

AND ANOTHER THING. (Oh shit, here he goes). Local paper. “Skateboarders irk merchants.” Just the opposite is happening here. Insteada the editorial proudly boasting “we’re all about this”.. skateboarders are lumped together as “bad.” Raises my dander just as much as hate involved with race, gender, ethnicity, socio-economic class, age, etc.

Jean Warren, who owns James County Mercantile (I have no idea what a James County Mercantile… does. We’re in Clay County.. Wtf is up with James County?… I will never shop there.. If they even sell anything.).. Says “I saw one crash into one of the flower pots the other day, and when I yelled at him, he flipped me off.” Well no shit Sherlock. I hope this lady, never in her life, had her bike slip off the sidewalk only to run over the Jones’s begonias. I hope she was never involved in a baseball game where the Spencer’s window was knocked out. I hope she never owned onea them “Drink and wet” dolls and dirtied the Blanton’s carpet. Jean Warren, I wish I were you. I’ve never ever had the feeling of “I’m perfect.” That’d be kinda a fun feel to feel.

Ahhhhh. I feel much better now. Thanks for this venue to allow me to get that behoogety stuff off’ma chest. With Liberty and justice for all. Not some, by all. Not just for the special/perfect ones. Liberty and justice for all. Smokers, skateboarders, blacks, whites, yellows, reds, old, young, poor, rich, slow, smart, big, skinny, tall, small, of this descent, of that descent, wearing this, wearing that. I guess that would include entrepreneurs who yell at kids too. Damnit.

Softball’s over. Darnit. No chance of fouling one off and smashing a windshield today. I think instead, I’ll run down to “The Dish”, have me a cold one, and puff away whilst I still can. Might even ride my bike. Watch out flower pots, I ain’t as stable riding this thing as I was forty years ago.

Love, Victurd.