Getting lost….

Hide and seek. Where’s Waldo?

I’ve long been a lover of stuff like that. Remember the Highlights books that adorned doctor’s and dentist’s offices years ago? They had these picture puzzle thingies, and you had to find the goofs, hidden objects.. things that simply weren’t normal. Fun.

Other night at “the joint.” Gal, a friend, was sitting down at onea them fancified fitty-cent video games, punching away as quickly as she could. Eased up closer, saw it was two pictures of the same scene – and you had’ta find the descrepencies and touch them on the screen. Milliseconds to complete this task before they moved to the next one. Obviously, the faster you found all the tasks, the more time you get for your fitty-cents. I sat next to her, started touching too. (No, not her, the errors, goofs on the screen.) Four eyeballs, better than one.

I like hiding. I like not having anyone know where I’m at. It’s a single kinda thing I guess. Maynard, thru observing patterns of his ole man – can find me virtually anywhere in town I gadabout. Darnit! I wanted to hear “allie allie in free”, you know, like when the chaser in ‘kick the can’ gives up, can’t findya.

1,052 “Waldo’s” showed up at Rutgers University Thursday. Dressed as Waldo. Set the Guiness record. I don’t like prevalent Waldo(s), I like the one that’s hard to find. A sense of relief when you finally find that basta.

There’s a little, kinda cool, “Coffee News” ad thingy in out town. It has clever little sayings along with a dozen or so 2 inch by 4 inch ads for business’s. .. It’s for boredom at the laundry mat. Or, for gaping at as one dines at the Piggly Wiggly. A hometown kinda thing.

Fitty bucks. Each week someone wins fitty bucks if they find “the little guy” within onea the ads. They show a big picture of the little guy, then, they show how large the hidden one in the ad will look like – and ya damn near can’t see it it’s so small in the example. Thenya gotta scroll thru all the ads, trying to find “the little guy.” I’m a simpleton, I see this as fun. Frustrating too. I think one week the asshole that owns the Coffee News simply decided to mess with our brains – cause I sureashell couldn’t find the little guy. I pictured owner bent over in laughter as it came off the presses.

Bottomline, I likes my space. The Governor in The Best Little Whorehouse. “Oh, I love to dance a little sidestep”. Uh huh. Me. Don’t control me. Don’t squash me. For goodness sakes PLEASE don’t be loud, dominate conversations – that makes me falla sleep. I like hiding. I like looking for descrepencies in life. I enjoy Waldo’s smirky smile.

Seems bassackwards one who enjoys hiding behind a tree would blog. Yeah, you’re right, don’t make no sense. Sorry, tis me. I hide, mostly, in conversations. By far not the most talkative one. I’d rather have ‘em thinking “I wonder whatinthehell he’s thinking” and explore all those possibilities versus the open mouth insert foot thing. I yap a lot here, but that’s because you’re a keyboard anda screen and as I type ya can’t hear me. See? I bet you wonder now exactly where I am. (Hell, call Maynard, he can find me anywhere.)

Hiding, silence, anonymity, and discrepencies, right up my alley. My take, one is more aerodynamic when their mouth ain’t open.
Ooh I love to dance a little sidestep, now they see me now they don't-
I've come and gone and, ooh I love to sweep around the wide step,
cut a little swathe and lead the people on.

Notta weirdo. Harmless, even though I usedta be a postal worker. Not “up there” in my silence/want of sometimes Howard Hughes secrecy. I just sometimes like alone. Writing about that desire and sharing is bassackwards, butt, sometimes I like bassackwards. Have a great day. Winter, please go away. Spring, stop your damn teasing, hiding. Bye bye. Going to find Waldo, the little guy, or simply find a place where no one will know where I’m at. Love, Victurd.