I was sayin' the right things, but I must have used the wrong line
Aha.... Good ole' Dr. John... This song encircles life.. (Back to mama's advice.. "The true secret to success in life is how you deal with "Plan B".. or, mebbe in my case, plan C, D, E, F, etcetera, etcetera).....
I was on the right trip, but I must have used the wrong car
Head is in a bad place and I wonder what it's good for
I was in the right place, but it must have been the wrong time
My head is in a bad place, but I'm havin' such a good time
Me. I go. I go out. I don't go home, most nights. I have fun. I laugh. I spend (not good, I know).. I ain't hurting a soul. My head is in a bad place, but I'm havin' such a good time....
I've been runnin', tryin' to get hung up in my mind
Really got to give myself a good talkin' to this time
Just need a little brain salad surgery
I got to cure my insecurity
Prolly a lotta truth there in that word 'insecurity'... #1 walked, for I have no idea the reason. Happened in late 1970's, not a word 'tween us since that day, so no idea. #2 walked.. (or leaped into bed, however you wanna look at it) in 2001.. Yes, I know - her leaping could have a whole lotta to do with me, my actions, behaviors.. but.. nanny nanny boo boo, I DID keep my zipper up....
And I was in the wrong place, but it must have been the right time
I was in the right place, but it must have been the wrong song
I was in the right thing, but it seemed like a wrong wrong
'Cause I was in the right world, but it seemed like a wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong
Again... I set the course for my day.... I love my day.. and my evening... right place? Dunno... Wrong time? Mebbe... Would others deem "wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong".. mebbe.. but again... I ain't hurting a sole.. mebbe me? Right place? Wrong time(s)?
Slippin', dodgin', sneakin', peepin', hidin' out down the street
See my life shakin' with every who I meet
Refried confusion is a-makin' itself clear
Wonder where to, where do I go to get on outta here
Fer sure. I am stuck (on bandaids, 'cause bandaids stuck on me).. I am upside down with my mortgage. (Victor, you're a whiny butt).. uh huh, am, sorry. Danger danger, warning warning Will Robinson: note to all potential divorcees for any reason.. (but 'specially for the reason their mate inadvertantly lost control of their genitals)..... see next paragraph, pretty please......
DO NOT SAY "YOU GET THE HELL OUT!"... What that leaves you with, is, a bigass mortgage... one who will come back one day and say "fair is fair, I want half of the equity" ($25K in my case)....... so...... YOU got $25K? Friggin' A Ray, me neither. So... that means...... cha-ching.... re-finance....... so.. that means.... cha-ching..... mortgage goes up...... BUY AN APARTMENT..... Instead say "WE HAD MANY GOOD SCREWS IN THIS HOUSE.... SINCE YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE SCREWING.. IT ONLY FITS THAT YOU SHOULD KEEP THE HOUSE TO CONTINUE WITH THE GOOD SCREWS"........ I'm gettin' me a five hunnerd dollar apartment (AND $25K).....
'Cause I was in the right place, but it must have been the wrong time
And I was sayin' the right thing, but I must have used the wrong line
I took the right road but I must have took a wrong turn
I took a right move but I made it at the wrong time
I was in the right trip but I made it in the wrong car
My head is in a good place and I wonder what it's there for
'Cause my skull is in a bad place
Victor, you're publishing all this on the internet???... for (how did that song by the "Beautiful People go?".) "lovers, fuckers and thieves" to see? Si, I am badbreath person. I was in the right place, but I left at the wrong time. Actually, still there. Ain't left yet. If I can help one soul, nifty.
I was in the right place, but it must have been the wrong time
I was on the right song, baby, must have been the wrong line
I was in the right place, must have been the wrong time
I been on the wrong road, wrong road so long
I been on the wrong road, wrong road so long
I'm happy in my life. Hard to believe after all that crap - but am. I am passionite, occasionally creative, once or twice a year - funny, I whistle, I laugh, I ogle, I think (daily) "good Lord she's got a fine derriere, she's only 33, WHY did my parents have me when they did?"....
I was on the right trail, but it must have been the wrong train
I was in the right [arm], I think it really was the wrong place
Really, really, really, really was the right place
Really must have been the wrong time
Victor? You still in mourning? Someone sent you an email asking you that. Are you?
Eh, mebbe I am. It's not about "return to yesterday".. it's more about "why?".. "what were those years worth?" (Ex's maiden name Worth, mebbe pun intended).. I was in the right place, but it must have been the wrong wife.
Victor, you've had a couple beers, are you SURE you wanna hit "send" (publish?)..
Si. Life is all about sometimes being in the right place at the wrong time. It's all about "my head is in a bad spot, and I wonder what it's good for".. Bottomline.. when I hear this song, I CRANK it. It's happy, whimsical, fun. Sure, also deep.
Very very much of my life has been spent in the right place at the right time. But... sure.. upon occasion (or within decades) I've been in the right place, but it must have been the wrong time. Peace out. Love, Victurd
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Ker - plunk….
Aging is akin to an all you can eat buffet.. You see it.. You attack it… soon, you regret it. As in aging, you see things "I usedta do that.. still can".. then..
Corporate Challenge ahead. I signed up for 3 on 3 basketball. Hell, it’s half court. I can do that. Can’t I?.. 3:57pm yesterday.. Community Center, Liberty, MO. Fitty-seven year old idiot walks up to desk.. “ahm, I know I’m an old guy, but do you guys checkout basketballs?”.. The guy covered up his mouth quickly.. Tried to pass it off as “I had an itch” but I just know the bastard was laughing at me. Har har, I know it’s stupid - but hey, I just wanna go shoot a few.
Did. Have they recently changed the height from ten to eleven feet and no one told me? I couldn’t get it there. Ker - plunk. It was definitely weird, definitely different, definitely been a long time. Finally, after cobwebs wore off - I actually made several (even some 3-pointers) but, for the most part, ker - plunk. All you can eat buffet - oh do I regret that.
So, I’d ‘elliptical-ed’ three miles, shot some hoops - time for the sauna and the Jacuzzi. Who knows, mebbe that gorgeous (I ain’t kiddin’) 65 year old Japanese lady will be there. Wasn’t. Sweating profusely from sauna - walked to Jacuzzi. Big lady sitting where by the steps where you get in, didn’t see me. Tis ok, I’ll just slide in here over the edge and dropoff into it. Ker - plunk. Did.
Snotnoses doing flips, dives off diving board.. Climbing this wall-climber thingy in attempt to slap the board at the very top… Finally.. Nudder old guy.. On diving board. HELL YEAH BROTHER! ONE FOR THE AARP! He had perfect form. Stood with arms down at side - took the rehearsed one, two, three steps.. Bounced offa both feet.. LOOK OUT RAFTERS - HERE HE COMES! Didn’t. He was old too. He never got in the air, dribbled himself off the edge of the board, landed without so much as a splash. Ker - plunk.
Hate that gray? Wash it away.
The brain says “yes”… after three trips to the buffet.. A round of shooting hoops.. Two and a half miles around the track, the body says ker - plunk. The old gray mare she - ain’t - ain’t what she usedta be, ain’t what she usedta be.
One time, bank camp, circa ten years ago - when three trips thru the buffet line still caused heartburn - but it didn’t last so long. Ex and I drove to Columbia, MO for the Show Me Games.. A State Track meet for old people. I’d actually placed a few years earlier in the high jump and the long jump - but by now I was in upper 40’s, competing against 'snotnoses' that just turned 40.
Two gas tanks full. Motel for the night. Meals on the road. First, THE VERY FIRST time I ran down the runway to long jump - pulled hamstring. Now I’d never done that before - but it’s kinda like trying to watch satellite TV during a thunderstorm - ain’t gonna happen. I swallowed my pride, limped to the car… My very first meeting of: ker -plunk.
I thought about doing this to the lyrics of “Been down so long it looks like up to me” but then again this chit is sposedta be positive, so didn’t.
Oh.. And today.. After several decades of checkenginelight.. The ‘96 Taurus eventually dying, the ‘99 (HOT… ROD) Lincoln sputtering to it’s demise.. My 1999 Dodge Van.. Reverse had gone out months ago, as had overdrive.. (My 70 mile commute has been costing me $16 a day ‘cause engine always revved.. Oh well, it’s gotten me there.. And back)…
Anyways.. Of late.. It’s been chuggin some… today… going up small hill, decided “done.” No more. Finito. Ker - plunk. Of course, it’s in a no parking zone - but not to worry, four friends on their way in 50 minutes to help - we’re pushing it to a lot where it’ll give me a couple days to see what I’ll do, where I’ll take it. It’s Sunday for behoogety sakes.
The uplifting part. “Hello Janet?”.. Yes.. “It’s me, Vic. Remember that time you offered to loan me your 3rd vehicle when my van finally went ker - plunk?”… and they did/have. Gracious. I’ll figure a way, some day - to repay them.
And.. For 24 of the last 36 hours, an 8 inch snowstorm has put the beginning of Spring on ker -plunk.
As I sat in the van - awaiting my friends, collecting my thoughts.. Peru$ing my worries.. I peeked to my left. There, RIGHT THERE, next to me, in the middle of the road - a big, fat, BEAUTIFUL robin. There is a God, all will be AOK. Spring has sprung, fall has ker-plunked.
Life, aging, “hell yeah I’m going thru that buffet line”.. “fer sure I’m playing 3 on 3 basketball”.. “By goodness ur dayum right I’m gonna (fast-walk) and do the long jump”.. but will prolly end with ker -plunk.
But……… doesn’t life always end with ker - plunk anyways? I’m going out having fun. Still, a dream of mine.. Tatoo.. “down there” somewhere.. Vely small.. Simply saying “morticians suck.” You gotta (still) attack ‘youthful crap‘, in spite of ker - plunk. Now whereinthehell is my ball glove, we’ve got practice soon.
Love, Victurd.
Corporate Challenge ahead. I signed up for 3 on 3 basketball. Hell, it’s half court. I can do that. Can’t I?.. 3:57pm yesterday.. Community Center, Liberty, MO. Fitty-seven year old idiot walks up to desk.. “ahm, I know I’m an old guy, but do you guys checkout basketballs?”.. The guy covered up his mouth quickly.. Tried to pass it off as “I had an itch” but I just know the bastard was laughing at me. Har har, I know it’s stupid - but hey, I just wanna go shoot a few.
Did. Have they recently changed the height from ten to eleven feet and no one told me? I couldn’t get it there. Ker - plunk. It was definitely weird, definitely different, definitely been a long time. Finally, after cobwebs wore off - I actually made several (even some 3-pointers) but, for the most part, ker - plunk. All you can eat buffet - oh do I regret that.
So, I’d ‘elliptical-ed’ three miles, shot some hoops - time for the sauna and the Jacuzzi. Who knows, mebbe that gorgeous (I ain’t kiddin’) 65 year old Japanese lady will be there. Wasn’t. Sweating profusely from sauna - walked to Jacuzzi. Big lady sitting where by the steps where you get in, didn’t see me. Tis ok, I’ll just slide in here over the edge and dropoff into it. Ker - plunk. Did.
Snotnoses doing flips, dives off diving board.. Climbing this wall-climber thingy in attempt to slap the board at the very top… Finally.. Nudder old guy.. On diving board. HELL YEAH BROTHER! ONE FOR THE AARP! He had perfect form. Stood with arms down at side - took the rehearsed one, two, three steps.. Bounced offa both feet.. LOOK OUT RAFTERS - HERE HE COMES! Didn’t. He was old too. He never got in the air, dribbled himself off the edge of the board, landed without so much as a splash. Ker - plunk.
Hate that gray? Wash it away.
The brain says “yes”… after three trips to the buffet.. A round of shooting hoops.. Two and a half miles around the track, the body says ker - plunk. The old gray mare she - ain’t - ain’t what she usedta be, ain’t what she usedta be.
One time, bank camp, circa ten years ago - when three trips thru the buffet line still caused heartburn - but it didn’t last so long. Ex and I drove to Columbia, MO for the Show Me Games.. A State Track meet for old people. I’d actually placed a few years earlier in the high jump and the long jump - but by now I was in upper 40’s, competing against 'snotnoses' that just turned 40.
Two gas tanks full. Motel for the night. Meals on the road. First, THE VERY FIRST time I ran down the runway to long jump - pulled hamstring. Now I’d never done that before - but it’s kinda like trying to watch satellite TV during a thunderstorm - ain’t gonna happen. I swallowed my pride, limped to the car… My very first meeting of: ker -plunk.
I thought about doing this to the lyrics of “Been down so long it looks like up to me” but then again this chit is sposedta be positive, so didn’t.
Oh.. And today.. After several decades of checkenginelight.. The ‘96 Taurus eventually dying, the ‘99 (HOT… ROD) Lincoln sputtering to it’s demise.. My 1999 Dodge Van.. Reverse had gone out months ago, as had overdrive.. (My 70 mile commute has been costing me $16 a day ‘cause engine always revved.. Oh well, it’s gotten me there.. And back)…
Anyways.. Of late.. It’s been chuggin some… today… going up small hill, decided “done.” No more. Finito. Ker - plunk. Of course, it’s in a no parking zone - but not to worry, four friends on their way in 50 minutes to help - we’re pushing it to a lot where it’ll give me a couple days to see what I’ll do, where I’ll take it. It’s Sunday for behoogety sakes.
The uplifting part. “Hello Janet?”.. Yes.. “It’s me, Vic. Remember that time you offered to loan me your 3rd vehicle when my van finally went ker - plunk?”… and they did/have. Gracious. I’ll figure a way, some day - to repay them.
And.. For 24 of the last 36 hours, an 8 inch snowstorm has put the beginning of Spring on ker -plunk.
As I sat in the van - awaiting my friends, collecting my thoughts.. Peru$ing my worries.. I peeked to my left. There, RIGHT THERE, next to me, in the middle of the road - a big, fat, BEAUTIFUL robin. There is a God, all will be AOK. Spring has sprung, fall has ker-plunked.
Life, aging, “hell yeah I’m going thru that buffet line”.. “fer sure I’m playing 3 on 3 basketball”.. “By goodness ur dayum right I’m gonna (fast-walk) and do the long jump”.. but will prolly end with ker -plunk.
But……… doesn’t life always end with ker - plunk anyways? I’m going out having fun. Still, a dream of mine.. Tatoo.. “down there” somewhere.. Vely small.. Simply saying “morticians suck.” You gotta (still) attack ‘youthful crap‘, in spite of ker - plunk. Now whereinthehell is my ball glove, we’ve got practice soon.
Love, Victurd.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
A preachment, dear friend
You are about to receive on John Barleycorn
Nicotine and the temptations of Eve
Victor, you’re always preaching. I thought you worked in transportation. Ahm, I do. It’s just that, I love life - so, figure I could preach a bit on it, then mebbe some of it it’ll rub off, fetch to my brain somewhere…
No parkin' by the sewer sign
Hot dog, my razors broke
Water drippin' up the spout
But I dont care, let it all hang out
Embrace. Likes that word. Of course there’s the embrace of “oh baby oh baby” and who doesn’t love that one…
To take or clasp in the arms; press to the bosom; hug. Oh hell yeah. Long lost friend. Every day friend. Partner. Coworker. Family member. Someone down. Someone up. A moment of simple feel good.
Hangin' from a pine tree by my knees
Sun is shinin' through the shade
Nobody knows what its all about
It's too much, man, let it all hang out
To take or receive gladly or eagerly; accept willingly: to embrace an idea. Teamwork. Camaraderie. Let’s go, do. Yeah, I like that. Good idea. When can we start. Concert? Party in the basement? Picnic at the park? Blues festival? Backyard BBQ? Hell yeah.
Saw a man walkin' upside down
My T.V.s on the blink
Made Galileo look like a Boy Scout
Sorry 'bout that, let it all hang out
To take in with the eye or the mind. Pardon a mai my French, but fuckin’ A Ray. Embrace the moment. A little league game. The hound running to you. Seeing people having fun. Catching a friend in their fun, in their shining, in their snorting. The camera of the brain. Pics filed away fo’er and ‘er.
Sleep all day, drive all night
Brain my numb, can't stop now
For sure ain't no doubt
Keep an open mind, let it all hang out
To encircle; surround; enclose. Grabbin’ that person’s attention, letting’ ‘em know, “hey, I likes you…. You’re fun… I’m glad to have met you.. You’re important to me… You help me smile, have feel goods in the tummy."
It's rainin' inside a big brown moon
How does that mess you baby up, leg
Eatin' a Reuben sandwich with sauerkraut
Don't stop now, baby, let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
Song, eh, I dunno. I kinda liked the beginning - announcing the preachment. Parts of it probably don’t work. Tis ok, I'm all about nonsensical sometimes. It’s me it’s me, it’s Ernest T, sorry. I LOVE embrace. And I strive every day to let it all hang out.
Thank you hombres. Love, Victurd.
Nicotine and the temptations of Eve
Victor, you’re always preaching. I thought you worked in transportation. Ahm, I do. It’s just that, I love life - so, figure I could preach a bit on it, then mebbe some of it it’ll rub off, fetch to my brain somewhere…
No parkin' by the sewer sign
Hot dog, my razors broke
Water drippin' up the spout
But I dont care, let it all hang out
Embrace. Likes that word. Of course there’s the embrace of “oh baby oh baby” and who doesn’t love that one…
To take or clasp in the arms; press to the bosom; hug. Oh hell yeah. Long lost friend. Every day friend. Partner. Coworker. Family member. Someone down. Someone up. A moment of simple feel good.
Hangin' from a pine tree by my knees
Sun is shinin' through the shade
Nobody knows what its all about
It's too much, man, let it all hang out
To take or receive gladly or eagerly; accept willingly: to embrace an idea. Teamwork. Camaraderie. Let’s go, do. Yeah, I like that. Good idea. When can we start. Concert? Party in the basement? Picnic at the park? Blues festival? Backyard BBQ? Hell yeah.
Saw a man walkin' upside down
My T.V.s on the blink
Made Galileo look like a Boy Scout
Sorry 'bout that, let it all hang out
To take in with the eye or the mind. Pardon a mai my French, but fuckin’ A Ray. Embrace the moment. A little league game. The hound running to you. Seeing people having fun. Catching a friend in their fun, in their shining, in their snorting. The camera of the brain. Pics filed away fo’er and ‘er.
Sleep all day, drive all night
Brain my numb, can't stop now
For sure ain't no doubt
Keep an open mind, let it all hang out
To encircle; surround; enclose. Grabbin’ that person’s attention, letting’ ‘em know, “hey, I likes you…. You’re fun… I’m glad to have met you.. You’re important to me… You help me smile, have feel goods in the tummy."
It's rainin' inside a big brown moon
How does that mess you baby up, leg
Eatin' a Reuben sandwich with sauerkraut
Don't stop now, baby, let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
Song, eh, I dunno. I kinda liked the beginning - announcing the preachment. Parts of it probably don’t work. Tis ok, I'm all about nonsensical sometimes. It’s me it’s me, it’s Ernest T, sorry. I LOVE embrace. And I strive every day to let it all hang out.
Thank you hombres. Love, Victurd.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Broke……
Interesting word. The obvious: ain’t gots no money. Victor, that’s a double negative, kinda-sorta. Sorry, when in the position of being broke, linguistic rules go out the window.
He broke his arm. She broke her finger playing volleyball. The child was crying because his toy broke. He broke in the horse. As day broke….
Hard up. Lacking funds. Bankrupt. Being currently (but not necessarily permanently) out of money. Break a leg. Go for broke. If it ain’t broken, don’t fix it.
I Googled broke. Then ‘broke stories’. Twas a religious site – and they’d had a contest urging folks to share their broke stories. Winner – family of hubby/wife-4 snotnoses, hubby found a great job… life was good.. a year later, the company lost all their government contracts… soon jobless..
A bit later, homeless.. no family close, urged kids to go live with grandparents temporarily.. didn’t’ wanna.. With a loan from mama’s mama, they purchased a 3 room tent, camping gear – and made a life of it at a Park --- $23 a night.. .
Soon this too became too expensive – so – found new campground at eleven bucks a night. “Yes, we were homeless, but we swam, barbecued, nature walked, and enjoyed the peacefulness of being together the entire 45 days we were there. I have to admit that we haven’t been camping since, but we talk about it fondly even now.”
Broke. Broke wind. Brokeback Mountain. Ewww. I will be cursed to hear Ned Beatty’s squeal until the day I buy the farm whenever spooky stuff like that surfaces.
Email from lady on an online dating website. I hope she won’t shoot me for quoting.. “I've been married twice also, but don't regret getting divorced. I wouldn't want to be married to either one of them today. Not that I have anything against marriage. I always thought I would marry a great guy. We would work hard to build a life and love and care for each other. I however, have a ‘broken picker’ and have always in the past picked out a really bad match for myself.”
A ‘broken picker’. I loved that. In some respects, I think I do too. Sure, takes two to tango – and I know there’s certainly fault from Mr. Victor on past marriages being ‘broken’. But.. dadburnit, when I say “till death do us part” I do mean it. Never broke that one.
Sister had a broken picker. Biased, but, onea the most wonderful, radiant, fun, attractive gals you ever laid eyes on. Bad picker. Broken.
Break. Break away. Break down. Break in. Break off. Break out. Break through. Break up. Broken. Heart broken. Broken arrow. Broke a sweat. Tom Brokow. Broke bread. Broke camp.
Victor, I feel another story coming about when you carried mail in the poorest, brokest portion of Kansas City. Yeah, mebbe. Like the homeless campers, broke doesn’t have to mean unhappy. Weeks – walked past this home.. very, very obviously poor family. Two senior citizens. Frequently sitting on the porch. Tattered clothing. Permanent smiles. Happiness. Didn’t have two pennies to rub together. Broke. Starta spring – walking by one day – lady tapped me on shoulder.. Handed me an entire flat of plants they’d started. “For me?”.. “YES!” she said merrily. Nice. Broke, but happy.
That’s it. Done. Finito. Silence broken, but story over. Enjoy the day. Hope you ain’t broke – but.. if u are, (I know ya know) you can be happy. No funny endings, sorry. Other stuff broke my train of thought. Ah St. Patty’s day upcoming. YEAH! My beloved mother’s birthday. Fun. Those were fun days. Spring. Green. Broke – still.. life’s a blast. Happy happy, love Victurd.
He broke his arm. She broke her finger playing volleyball. The child was crying because his toy broke. He broke in the horse. As day broke….
Hard up. Lacking funds. Bankrupt. Being currently (but not necessarily permanently) out of money. Break a leg. Go for broke. If it ain’t broken, don’t fix it.
I Googled broke. Then ‘broke stories’. Twas a religious site – and they’d had a contest urging folks to share their broke stories. Winner – family of hubby/wife-4 snotnoses, hubby found a great job… life was good.. a year later, the company lost all their government contracts… soon jobless..
A bit later, homeless.. no family close, urged kids to go live with grandparents temporarily.. didn’t’ wanna.. With a loan from mama’s mama, they purchased a 3 room tent, camping gear – and made a life of it at a Park --- $23 a night.. .
Soon this too became too expensive – so – found new campground at eleven bucks a night. “Yes, we were homeless, but we swam, barbecued, nature walked, and enjoyed the peacefulness of being together the entire 45 days we were there. I have to admit that we haven’t been camping since, but we talk about it fondly even now.”
Broke. Broke wind. Brokeback Mountain. Ewww. I will be cursed to hear Ned Beatty’s squeal until the day I buy the farm whenever spooky stuff like that surfaces.
Email from lady on an online dating website. I hope she won’t shoot me for quoting.. “I've been married twice also, but don't regret getting divorced. I wouldn't want to be married to either one of them today. Not that I have anything against marriage. I always thought I would marry a great guy. We would work hard to build a life and love and care for each other. I however, have a ‘broken picker’ and have always in the past picked out a really bad match for myself.”
A ‘broken picker’. I loved that. In some respects, I think I do too. Sure, takes two to tango – and I know there’s certainly fault from Mr. Victor on past marriages being ‘broken’. But.. dadburnit, when I say “till death do us part” I do mean it. Never broke that one.
Sister had a broken picker. Biased, but, onea the most wonderful, radiant, fun, attractive gals you ever laid eyes on. Bad picker. Broken.
Break. Break away. Break down. Break in. Break off. Break out. Break through. Break up. Broken. Heart broken. Broken arrow. Broke a sweat. Tom Brokow. Broke bread. Broke camp.
Victor, I feel another story coming about when you carried mail in the poorest, brokest portion of Kansas City. Yeah, mebbe. Like the homeless campers, broke doesn’t have to mean unhappy. Weeks – walked past this home.. very, very obviously poor family. Two senior citizens. Frequently sitting on the porch. Tattered clothing. Permanent smiles. Happiness. Didn’t have two pennies to rub together. Broke. Starta spring – walking by one day – lady tapped me on shoulder.. Handed me an entire flat of plants they’d started. “For me?”.. “YES!” she said merrily. Nice. Broke, but happy.
That’s it. Done. Finito. Silence broken, but story over. Enjoy the day. Hope you ain’t broke – but.. if u are, (I know ya know) you can be happy. No funny endings, sorry. Other stuff broke my train of thought. Ah St. Patty’s day upcoming. YEAH! My beloved mother’s birthday. Fun. Those were fun days. Spring. Green. Broke – still.. life’s a blast. Happy happy, love Victurd.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Of potholes and drizzles…
PATOOEY! That’s what this timea year is, rotten! We slipped, slid, shivered through winter - tithed to the Gas Service company - had a momentary snippet of Spring - then… more PATOOEY!
Victor, you seem to be rather whiny today. I’M A PEOPLE PERSON FOR BEHOOGITY SAKES! Nah, I was drinking my fitty-nine cent Senior coffee at Mickey D’s, people watching, reading about how good KU is (patooey)… got in my car.. Steered to the Piggly Wiggly for more people watching.. Sudoku (I’m an addict).. And I thought to myself “ya know, this timea year is really patooey.”
Potholes everywhere - I think I hurt my hip again going over one.. The ground is yucky moist.. The grass is drab brown.. And the rain is, uncomfy.
At work the other day… very similar day.. After summation of two and one half hours listening to my almost all female coworkers, I blurted “this weather puts you guys in a bad mood.” (It’s ok, they know I tease, shoot rubber bands, send stupid emails, tongue mostly in cheek.)
Hammer. He’s a Mr. Fix It at the office. If it’s broke, he can do it. If it’s a copy machine, he’s got the fixers on speed dial. That day, the day THEY were in a bad mood.. A couple of ‘em were top-of-the-lungs talking about some work diddy over the cubicle walls.. I picked up the phone, dialed my own extension of course, and yelled “HAMMER, come get all these damn phones, the ladies here never use ‘em anyways.” I received a total of seven wadded up pieces of paper on that one. I love what I do, who I do it with.
Ain’t real sure I could live at a place like, say Belize, year round. I think I’d have to really work at having a good attitude if the weather were nice all the time. I kinda love (don’t tell) this patooey period we must suffer thru - as I very much look forward to going to the Piggly in shorts/t-shirt/sandals. I actually kinda enjoy mowing the yard… And Sunday nights at the softball field.. Ah, yes.. Five hours of fun, and that even includes one hour of playing!
We’re on the upslope of The Mamba. Exhilaration ahead. Koolaid koolaid, tastes great, wish I had some, can’t wait!
If you happen to be reading this at 11am, Sunday, 3/14.. Ya dumbass you. You forgot to “Spring Forward” and when you drove to church you realized “Oh crap, I’m an hour late, I can’t walk in now.” Hehe.
I’ll be back in a bit. Gonna go sit, stare out the window at the brown. The rain. The gray sky. (How come gray is spelled that way now.. When we were whippersnappers, I swear it was grEy.) Gonna close my eyes, and in baited anticipation, await the titillating whoooooosh once the Mamba finally finally really really hits Spring.
Play Ball. Yer out. Home run. Has nothing to do with women/cleavage, honest, I just enjoy the warmer temps. People smile more in nice weather. We who have the seasons are fortunate in that we have come to really really appreciate “the good.”
Farm out. Love, Victurd.
Victor, you seem to be rather whiny today. I’M A PEOPLE PERSON FOR BEHOOGITY SAKES! Nah, I was drinking my fitty-nine cent Senior coffee at Mickey D’s, people watching, reading about how good KU is (patooey)… got in my car.. Steered to the Piggly Wiggly for more people watching.. Sudoku (I’m an addict).. And I thought to myself “ya know, this timea year is really patooey.”
Potholes everywhere - I think I hurt my hip again going over one.. The ground is yucky moist.. The grass is drab brown.. And the rain is, uncomfy.
At work the other day… very similar day.. After summation of two and one half hours listening to my almost all female coworkers, I blurted “this weather puts you guys in a bad mood.” (It’s ok, they know I tease, shoot rubber bands, send stupid emails, tongue mostly in cheek.)
Hammer. He’s a Mr. Fix It at the office. If it’s broke, he can do it. If it’s a copy machine, he’s got the fixers on speed dial. That day, the day THEY were in a bad mood.. A couple of ‘em were top-of-the-lungs talking about some work diddy over the cubicle walls.. I picked up the phone, dialed my own extension of course, and yelled “HAMMER, come get all these damn phones, the ladies here never use ‘em anyways.” I received a total of seven wadded up pieces of paper on that one. I love what I do, who I do it with.
Ain’t real sure I could live at a place like, say Belize, year round. I think I’d have to really work at having a good attitude if the weather were nice all the time. I kinda love (don’t tell) this patooey period we must suffer thru - as I very much look forward to going to the Piggly in shorts/t-shirt/sandals. I actually kinda enjoy mowing the yard… And Sunday nights at the softball field.. Ah, yes.. Five hours of fun, and that even includes one hour of playing!
We’re on the upslope of The Mamba. Exhilaration ahead. Koolaid koolaid, tastes great, wish I had some, can’t wait!
If you happen to be reading this at 11am, Sunday, 3/14.. Ya dumbass you. You forgot to “Spring Forward” and when you drove to church you realized “Oh crap, I’m an hour late, I can’t walk in now.” Hehe.
I’ll be back in a bit. Gonna go sit, stare out the window at the brown. The rain. The gray sky. (How come gray is spelled that way now.. When we were whippersnappers, I swear it was grEy.) Gonna close my eyes, and in baited anticipation, await the titillating whoooooosh once the Mamba finally finally really really hits Spring.
Play Ball. Yer out. Home run. Has nothing to do with women/cleavage, honest, I just enjoy the warmer temps. People smile more in nice weather. We who have the seasons are fortunate in that we have come to really really appreciate “the good.”
Farm out. Love, Victurd.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Life is a highway….
Life's like a road that you travel on
When there's one day here and the next day gone
Sometimes you bend sometimes you stand
Sometimes you turn your back to the wind
My 401K is minuscule. A tradeoff. I’ve “lived fun.” Done way too many a thing to make a buck – but, it’s been my highway. I did it my way.
There's a world outside every darkened Door
Where blues won't haunt you anymore
Where the brave are free and lovers soar
Come ride with me to the distant shore
Once dealt craps at a Casino. Buddya mine asked “do you like it?”.. “It’s like going to work at a party.” And damn near every job I’ve had has been that – like going to work at a party.
We won't hesitate break down the garden gate
There's not much left today
As a kid, once painted outbuildings for rich guy that owned tons of property that was soon to be sold to build Interstate 435 which would eventually circle the city. Painting one blue.. left for lunch.. came back.. cows had gotten into our paint. Oh chit. Fun. Funny. So, we, doing what kids would do – painted ourselves as well. Ahm, we even had “blue balls.” Life is a highway, I did it my way.
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you're going my way
I want to drive it all night long
Through all the cities and all these towns
It's in my blood and it's all around
I love you now like I loved you then
This is the road and these are the hands
Airline work – the 80’s.. Geez Louise. Work softball team. Most work softball teams gather at the local fields, have a brew, play a game, have a brew – go home. Not us. “Where we playing this weekend?” Phoenix. Cool. Next? Vegas. I chit u not we traveled each and every weekend to a different city to play in airline worker tourneys. Life is a highway.
From mozambique to those memphis nights
The khyber pass to vancouver's lights
Knock me down get back up again
You're in my blood I'm not a lonely man
Employee nights at the Royals, at the Woodlands. At the casino. A sport’s talk trivia show. Corporate Challenge. Fun. Small 401K, large returns otherwise. I’ve always gone to work at a party. Life is a highway – I did it my way.
There's no load I can't hold
Road so rough this I know
I'll bee there when the light comes in
Tell 'em we're survivors
Owned own business. Work wasn’t work – it was cha-ching. Cha-ching was fun. Dressed how I wanted. Went in when I wanted, ‘worked’ as long as I wanted. Daily fun banter exchanges with same ole guys. Stop for a beer, if I wanted. Overtip, if I wanted. Life is a highway.
There was a distance between you and I
A misunderstanding once but now
We look it in the eye
There's no load I can't hold
Road so rough this I know
I'll be there when the light comes in
Tell 'em we're survivors
As age has happened, perhaps not quite the runner I usedta be. So, now instead, gotta be creative in finding ‘fun’. Rubberbands are easy. Co-workers know where they came from. Don’t care. I’m getting better and better with aim.
Stupid stuff like.. just before the MU-KU basketball game… sending an email to our HR Director entitled “HR ideas I’ve been thinking of for our company.. done at home with old tape recorder, please turn up sound.”.. He did. He heap big Jayhawk fan. Attached, wasn’t HR related. Twas the MU Fight song. Life is a highway, I did it my way.. all night (life) long.
When I die, dunno if dust or casket. Just know this – please don’t frown/fret. I’m there with smile – as that’s how I’ve lived my entire life. Life is a highway, I did it my way, all night (life) long.
The end. Love, Victurd.
When there's one day here and the next day gone
Sometimes you bend sometimes you stand
Sometimes you turn your back to the wind
My 401K is minuscule. A tradeoff. I’ve “lived fun.” Done way too many a thing to make a buck – but, it’s been my highway. I did it my way.
There's a world outside every darkened Door
Where blues won't haunt you anymore
Where the brave are free and lovers soar
Come ride with me to the distant shore
Once dealt craps at a Casino. Buddya mine asked “do you like it?”.. “It’s like going to work at a party.” And damn near every job I’ve had has been that – like going to work at a party.
We won't hesitate break down the garden gate
There's not much left today
As a kid, once painted outbuildings for rich guy that owned tons of property that was soon to be sold to build Interstate 435 which would eventually circle the city. Painting one blue.. left for lunch.. came back.. cows had gotten into our paint. Oh chit. Fun. Funny. So, we, doing what kids would do – painted ourselves as well. Ahm, we even had “blue balls.” Life is a highway, I did it my way.
Life is a highway
I want to ride it all night long
If you're going my way
I want to drive it all night long
Through all the cities and all these towns
It's in my blood and it's all around
I love you now like I loved you then
This is the road and these are the hands
Airline work – the 80’s.. Geez Louise. Work softball team. Most work softball teams gather at the local fields, have a brew, play a game, have a brew – go home. Not us. “Where we playing this weekend?” Phoenix. Cool. Next? Vegas. I chit u not we traveled each and every weekend to a different city to play in airline worker tourneys. Life is a highway.
From mozambique to those memphis nights
The khyber pass to vancouver's lights
Knock me down get back up again
You're in my blood I'm not a lonely man
Employee nights at the Royals, at the Woodlands. At the casino. A sport’s talk trivia show. Corporate Challenge. Fun. Small 401K, large returns otherwise. I’ve always gone to work at a party. Life is a highway – I did it my way.
There's no load I can't hold
Road so rough this I know
I'll bee there when the light comes in
Tell 'em we're survivors
Owned own business. Work wasn’t work – it was cha-ching. Cha-ching was fun. Dressed how I wanted. Went in when I wanted, ‘worked’ as long as I wanted. Daily fun banter exchanges with same ole guys. Stop for a beer, if I wanted. Overtip, if I wanted. Life is a highway.
There was a distance between you and I
A misunderstanding once but now
We look it in the eye
There's no load I can't hold
Road so rough this I know
I'll be there when the light comes in
Tell 'em we're survivors
As age has happened, perhaps not quite the runner I usedta be. So, now instead, gotta be creative in finding ‘fun’. Rubberbands are easy. Co-workers know where they came from. Don’t care. I’m getting better and better with aim.
Stupid stuff like.. just before the MU-KU basketball game… sending an email to our HR Director entitled “HR ideas I’ve been thinking of for our company.. done at home with old tape recorder, please turn up sound.”.. He did. He heap big Jayhawk fan. Attached, wasn’t HR related. Twas the MU Fight song. Life is a highway, I did it my way.. all night (life) long.
When I die, dunno if dust or casket. Just know this – please don’t frown/fret. I’m there with smile – as that’s how I’ve lived my entire life. Life is a highway, I did it my way, all night (life) long.
The end. Love, Victurd.
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
Nothing…
Nothin' from nothin' leaves nothin'
You gotta have somethin'
If you wanna be with me
Nothin' from nothin' leaves nothin'
You gotta have somethin'
If you wanna be with me
Whaddaya doin’? Nothin’… You? Nah, me neither.
What’d you do last weekend.. nuttin’… u? Yeah, sucks eh?
Nothing – to not say anything. No part, share, or trace. Something that is nonexistent. Found that definition online. “Something that is nonexistent.” Ain’t that kinda au contraire? How can nothing be something?
Nothing from nine leaves nine. Nothing. A person of little or no importance; a nobody. To who? Could mean everything to someone. Back in the day (oh chit, here we go again).. ahem.. back in the day, I usedta deliver mail in the absolute poorest area of Kansas City.. Many would say “nothings” live there. Once again, au contraire. Many a happy folk. Didn’t need ‘stuff’.. got by on, little or nothing. Vely happy.
I'm not tryin' to be your hero
'Cause that zero is too cold for me, Brrr
I'm not tryin' to be your highness
'Cause that minus is too low to see, yeah
Amounting to nothing, as in offering no prospects for satisfaction, advancement or the like.. She was stuck in a nothing job. Oh yeah? Well, lotta people shine in nothing jobs. Lotta people are HAPPY in nothing jobs. I’m not liking nothing about what I’m reading about nothing. Nothing makes sense, or, doesn’t, onea the two.
For nothing. Now that one I like. Free of charge. In nothing flat. Nothing but… we could see nothing but fog.
Whisper sweet nothings in her ear. There we go again, nothings being something.
There are times – I simply enjoy doing a whole lotta nothing. Victor, how can you “do” nothing? You know what I mean.. stuff that ain’t necessarily productive.. like Sudoku.. or reading online.. surfing.. killing time here.. doing nothing.
Nothin' from nothin' leaves nothin'
And I'm not stuffin'
Believe you me
Don't you remember I told ya
I'm a soldier in the war on poverty, yeah
Yes, I am
Room 222. Ifn’s ur old, you might remember it. I think I’ve blogged this before, sorry. Was mass chaos in Principal’s office. Kids flitting here, teachers moving there. Noisy. Could hear nothing in a personal conversation due to all the noise/chaos. Principal looks around… says.. “I’ll never forget April 22nd..”… Teacher looks at him quizzically.. “Why? What happened April 22nd?”… “Nothing… absolutely nothing.”
She had nothing on top. He had a lil’ one, not mucha nuttin.
Nothin' from nothin' leaves nothin'
You gotta have somethin'
If you wanna be with me
Nothin' from nothin' leaves nothin'
You gotta have somethin'
If you wanna be with me
Getting ready to take on day. Been doing a whole lotta nothing. Nothing planned after work. Nothing in billfold. Nothing in gas tank. Nothing outta the ordinary.
You gotta have somethin'
If you wanna be with me
You gotta bring me somethin' girl
If you wanna be with me
Guilty looks on kid’s faces. “WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?”.. “nothing.” Uh huh, sure. Nothing is very interesting. Is that possible? “I know nothing, I see nothing” the beloved Sgt. Schultze…
Nothing would please me more… Nothing that is worth knowing can be taught. I love talking about nothing, it’s the only thing I know anything about. In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing.
That’s me. Quite happy in my nothing. Many would say “nothing” job. No chance for advancement. I likes it. I’m enjoying the ride out. No noises at home, nothing. That’s not true – cat hasn’t been neutered, he bitches about nothing, and everything. Nothing is permanent.
Enough about nothing. Two pages on nothing. Nothing within really. Eh, tis cool. I leave whispering sweet nothings in your ear – whatever those are. Do deaf people sign sweet nothings? Not makin’ fun, just wonder. Very little offends me.. Not nothing, but very little. Victor, I believe that’s a double negative. Rules? We ain’t got no rules here.
Much ado about nothing. Sorry. Love, Victurd
You gotta have somethin'
If you wanna be with me
Nothin' from nothin' leaves nothin'
You gotta have somethin'
If you wanna be with me
Whaddaya doin’? Nothin’… You? Nah, me neither.
What’d you do last weekend.. nuttin’… u? Yeah, sucks eh?
Nothing – to not say anything. No part, share, or trace. Something that is nonexistent. Found that definition online. “Something that is nonexistent.” Ain’t that kinda au contraire? How can nothing be something?
Nothing from nine leaves nine. Nothing. A person of little or no importance; a nobody. To who? Could mean everything to someone. Back in the day (oh chit, here we go again).. ahem.. back in the day, I usedta deliver mail in the absolute poorest area of Kansas City.. Many would say “nothings” live there. Once again, au contraire. Many a happy folk. Didn’t need ‘stuff’.. got by on, little or nothing. Vely happy.
I'm not tryin' to be your hero
'Cause that zero is too cold for me, Brrr
I'm not tryin' to be your highness
'Cause that minus is too low to see, yeah
Amounting to nothing, as in offering no prospects for satisfaction, advancement or the like.. She was stuck in a nothing job. Oh yeah? Well, lotta people shine in nothing jobs. Lotta people are HAPPY in nothing jobs. I’m not liking nothing about what I’m reading about nothing. Nothing makes sense, or, doesn’t, onea the two.
For nothing. Now that one I like. Free of charge. In nothing flat. Nothing but… we could see nothing but fog.
Whisper sweet nothings in her ear. There we go again, nothings being something.
There are times – I simply enjoy doing a whole lotta nothing. Victor, how can you “do” nothing? You know what I mean.. stuff that ain’t necessarily productive.. like Sudoku.. or reading online.. surfing.. killing time here.. doing nothing.
Nothin' from nothin' leaves nothin'
And I'm not stuffin'
Believe you me
Don't you remember I told ya
I'm a soldier in the war on poverty, yeah
Yes, I am
Room 222. Ifn’s ur old, you might remember it. I think I’ve blogged this before, sorry. Was mass chaos in Principal’s office. Kids flitting here, teachers moving there. Noisy. Could hear nothing in a personal conversation due to all the noise/chaos. Principal looks around… says.. “I’ll never forget April 22nd..”… Teacher looks at him quizzically.. “Why? What happened April 22nd?”… “Nothing… absolutely nothing.”
She had nothing on top. He had a lil’ one, not mucha nuttin.
Nothin' from nothin' leaves nothin'
You gotta have somethin'
If you wanna be with me
Nothin' from nothin' leaves nothin'
You gotta have somethin'
If you wanna be with me
Getting ready to take on day. Been doing a whole lotta nothing. Nothing planned after work. Nothing in billfold. Nothing in gas tank. Nothing outta the ordinary.
You gotta have somethin'
If you wanna be with me
You gotta bring me somethin' girl
If you wanna be with me
Guilty looks on kid’s faces. “WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN DOING?”.. “nothing.” Uh huh, sure. Nothing is very interesting. Is that possible? “I know nothing, I see nothing” the beloved Sgt. Schultze…
Nothing would please me more… Nothing that is worth knowing can be taught. I love talking about nothing, it’s the only thing I know anything about. In the arithmetic of love, one plus one equals everything, and two minus one equals nothing.
That’s me. Quite happy in my nothing. Many would say “nothing” job. No chance for advancement. I likes it. I’m enjoying the ride out. No noises at home, nothing. That’s not true – cat hasn’t been neutered, he bitches about nothing, and everything. Nothing is permanent.
Enough about nothing. Two pages on nothing. Nothing within really. Eh, tis cool. I leave whispering sweet nothings in your ear – whatever those are. Do deaf people sign sweet nothings? Not makin’ fun, just wonder. Very little offends me.. Not nothing, but very little. Victor, I believe that’s a double negative. Rules? We ain’t got no rules here.
Much ado about nothing. Sorry. Love, Victurd
Sunday, March 07, 2010
Me and my quadriceps femoris ain’t on speakin’ terms…
Sometime in August, last year. Old man’s softball. Dunno how it happened. Happens as one ages. Forget. Can’t remember any exact play, slide, twist, turn. Injured hip. Justification to drive RIGHT past the Community Center nightly - where I was once a familiar, damn near daily, face.
Hip better by late October. Kept driving past that sucker. Forgot. Forgot to stop. Remember the $23 a month they take out automatically, but I milked a two month injury into seven months.
Soooo.. With Daylight Savings time upcoming, hopefully warmer days, Corporate Challenge, softball - and yes, thanks to the belly that is begging me to go out and buy 38x30’s, having pushed the 36x30’s to the limit - I went back to working out. Am I the only one in America that sweats, groans, fights, gets channel locks out to FINALLY get that waist button in the hole, giving it my best “I’ll be DAMNED if I’m gonna buy the next size up”?
Thirty minutes on the elliptical.. A trip to the sauna, then the Jacuzzi - aha, not too bad. Next day, HEY, it’s fitty degrees. We ain’t seen fitty degrees since… since… I forget. Happens as one ages.
“I know, I’ll go to the High School track, sprint the straightaways and jog the curves.” Uh huh, sure Victor. Bridge/Florida. Gal that usedta play basketball for me years ago. Couple years my junior. Still, classifies her as old today. See her damn near every day in my commute to work on the lonely 3-mile stretch that leads to Interstate. “Jogging.” Truth be known, she ain’t. She’s doing what I would call “fast-walk”.. It’s kinda sad to see age/deterioration over the years, but you can see it in her “running.”
Soooooooo… I await the snotnoses finishing track practice, then the track is mine, all mine. Bruce Jenner, move over, here I come. Stretch, try to look like I know whatthehehell I’m doing - and “HE’S OFF!”.. Wow, long time no run. As I made my way down the straightaway, I peeked at the empty bleachers to my right. Had they been filled, there woulda been great laughter.. “Look at that old geezer… he thinks he’s sprinting… HE’S FAST WALKING! HA HA HA HA HA!”..
Right. I was. Ok, so maybe I’ll jog the straightaways and walk the curves….. Hey, I’m still moving. 3 miles, by God I’m doing three miles. Shortly after lap one, hear church bells chime 6pm.. Ok, I’ll do this until I hear it go off at that half hour. NO, by God, you're doing 3 miles. K. Whatever you say inner motivation person.
Lap number 3... A couple of snotnoses return and go the the long jump pit. Now, this Corporate Challenge thing, I saw they have the long jump. I usedta do that, long ago. Could I still? I peeked at last year’s results - and whilst they didn’t have an over fitty age group, they did have an over 40. Eighteen feet was the winner… Hmmmm.. How far could I jump? HEY, six feet was last place. Hell, I can do that. So, I glanced over at the long jump thingy.. Shee-it, if one “fast-walks” insteada actually running, I might not make six feet. Oh well.
Damn it’s cold (lap 5) maybe I’ll just do a mile anda half. NO, by God, you’re doing three miles. This is starting to hurt (laps 7, 8, 9).. I SAID 3 MILES!.. Sometimes, evil wins out, and after completing my 10th lap (2 and ½ miles) I headed for my friendly van to drive home.
Next day. I couldn’t move. Hadta pee, but didn’t wanna get up. Knew I couldn’t stay in bed, so made a hideous trek to squatter. Ouch. Damn. I HATE AGING. I don’t wanna go to work. Victor, it’s friggin March, you’ll be outta sick leave before summer if you keep this up. Oh ok. Went. Hurt. Ginger. Sat fatass in chair, even skipped a few smoke breaks - VERY unusual for me. Cussing my quadriceps femoris.
Driving home that night… You ARE turning into the gym. You’re at 209. Not as bad as you thought, but you’re a 38”, 36” wanna be. Turn. Evil won again. Besides, my buddies truck was at the watering hole where we go. It’ll be ok. Beer will help forget the muscle pain.
Saturday, two days after my “fast-walk” experience. To gym. YES, good job Victor! Huh uh, there only for the Jacuzzi. I still hurt. Up walks onea the most shapely ladies I’d seen in a long time. Could tell from face “notta kid”, but dayum she had the body of a 20-something, pre-childbearing, pre 800 trips for Happy Meals.. She was drop dead gorgeous. Japanese lady.
Conversation. “I run marathons.” She-it. I couldn’t tell the 2 and a half mile story.. How can I brag when I run 1/13 as far as her. “Well, I’m fitty-seven, and I still play softball.” THAT’S GREAT.. I’m 65, and I’m supposed to run in the Boston Marathon this year. Shee-it. SIXTY-FIVE? Honest, she didn’t look a day past 40, and her body a day past 20. “YOU LOOK WONDERFUL!” I blurted before I realized how pathetically “come-on” that might sound.
“YOU TOO!” she countered. Aha, I knew too good to be true. Bitch can’t see. She told me her name, and that she’d finished 2nd in a local race… I went home, looked it up online, yep, right there she was. WELL, I PLAYED HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL.. And I STILL play softball.. Yes Victor, but now you “Fast-walk”. Sadly, true, I do.
Later that day I returned to the gym. Did. Worked out s’more. Not quite as angry with my thigh muscles - so mebbe one day real soon I shall return to the track. Goal of 11 laps now. Might even sneak over the long jump pit for some fast-walking-jumping. Six feet… I can do that…….. Can’t I?
Fe fe fi fi fo fo fum
I smell smoke in the auditorium
Ole Victurd, Ole Victurd
He's a clown, that Ole Victurd..
He's gonna get caught, just you wait and see
(Why's everybody always pickin' on me?)
Yours in fast-walking, love, Victurd.
Hip better by late October. Kept driving past that sucker. Forgot. Forgot to stop. Remember the $23 a month they take out automatically, but I milked a two month injury into seven months.
Soooo.. With Daylight Savings time upcoming, hopefully warmer days, Corporate Challenge, softball - and yes, thanks to the belly that is begging me to go out and buy 38x30’s, having pushed the 36x30’s to the limit - I went back to working out. Am I the only one in America that sweats, groans, fights, gets channel locks out to FINALLY get that waist button in the hole, giving it my best “I’ll be DAMNED if I’m gonna buy the next size up”?
Thirty minutes on the elliptical.. A trip to the sauna, then the Jacuzzi - aha, not too bad. Next day, HEY, it’s fitty degrees. We ain’t seen fitty degrees since… since… I forget. Happens as one ages.
“I know, I’ll go to the High School track, sprint the straightaways and jog the curves.” Uh huh, sure Victor. Bridge/Florida. Gal that usedta play basketball for me years ago. Couple years my junior. Still, classifies her as old today. See her damn near every day in my commute to work on the lonely 3-mile stretch that leads to Interstate. “Jogging.” Truth be known, she ain’t. She’s doing what I would call “fast-walk”.. It’s kinda sad to see age/deterioration over the years, but you can see it in her “running.”
Soooooooo… I await the snotnoses finishing track practice, then the track is mine, all mine. Bruce Jenner, move over, here I come. Stretch, try to look like I know whatthehehell I’m doing - and “HE’S OFF!”.. Wow, long time no run. As I made my way down the straightaway, I peeked at the empty bleachers to my right. Had they been filled, there woulda been great laughter.. “Look at that old geezer… he thinks he’s sprinting… HE’S FAST WALKING! HA HA HA HA HA!”..
Right. I was. Ok, so maybe I’ll jog the straightaways and walk the curves….. Hey, I’m still moving. 3 miles, by God I’m doing three miles. Shortly after lap one, hear church bells chime 6pm.. Ok, I’ll do this until I hear it go off at that half hour. NO, by God, you're doing 3 miles. K. Whatever you say inner motivation person.
Lap number 3... A couple of snotnoses return and go the the long jump pit. Now, this Corporate Challenge thing, I saw they have the long jump. I usedta do that, long ago. Could I still? I peeked at last year’s results - and whilst they didn’t have an over fitty age group, they did have an over 40. Eighteen feet was the winner… Hmmmm.. How far could I jump? HEY, six feet was last place. Hell, I can do that. So, I glanced over at the long jump thingy.. Shee-it, if one “fast-walks” insteada actually running, I might not make six feet. Oh well.
Damn it’s cold (lap 5) maybe I’ll just do a mile anda half. NO, by God, you’re doing three miles. This is starting to hurt (laps 7, 8, 9).. I SAID 3 MILES!.. Sometimes, evil wins out, and after completing my 10th lap (2 and ½ miles) I headed for my friendly van to drive home.
Next day. I couldn’t move. Hadta pee, but didn’t wanna get up. Knew I couldn’t stay in bed, so made a hideous trek to squatter. Ouch. Damn. I HATE AGING. I don’t wanna go to work. Victor, it’s friggin March, you’ll be outta sick leave before summer if you keep this up. Oh ok. Went. Hurt. Ginger. Sat fatass in chair, even skipped a few smoke breaks - VERY unusual for me. Cussing my quadriceps femoris.
Driving home that night… You ARE turning into the gym. You’re at 209. Not as bad as you thought, but you’re a 38”, 36” wanna be. Turn. Evil won again. Besides, my buddies truck was at the watering hole where we go. It’ll be ok. Beer will help forget the muscle pain.
Saturday, two days after my “fast-walk” experience. To gym. YES, good job Victor! Huh uh, there only for the Jacuzzi. I still hurt. Up walks onea the most shapely ladies I’d seen in a long time. Could tell from face “notta kid”, but dayum she had the body of a 20-something, pre-childbearing, pre 800 trips for Happy Meals.. She was drop dead gorgeous. Japanese lady.
Conversation. “I run marathons.” She-it. I couldn’t tell the 2 and a half mile story.. How can I brag when I run 1/13 as far as her. “Well, I’m fitty-seven, and I still play softball.” THAT’S GREAT.. I’m 65, and I’m supposed to run in the Boston Marathon this year. Shee-it. SIXTY-FIVE? Honest, she didn’t look a day past 40, and her body a day past 20. “YOU LOOK WONDERFUL!” I blurted before I realized how pathetically “come-on” that might sound.
“YOU TOO!” she countered. Aha, I knew too good to be true. Bitch can’t see. She told me her name, and that she’d finished 2nd in a local race… I went home, looked it up online, yep, right there she was. WELL, I PLAYED HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL.. And I STILL play softball.. Yes Victor, but now you “Fast-walk”. Sadly, true, I do.
Later that day I returned to the gym. Did. Worked out s’more. Not quite as angry with my thigh muscles - so mebbe one day real soon I shall return to the track. Goal of 11 laps now. Might even sneak over the long jump pit for some fast-walking-jumping. Six feet… I can do that…….. Can’t I?
Fe fe fi fi fo fo fum
I smell smoke in the auditorium
Ole Victurd, Ole Victurd
He's a clown, that Ole Victurd..
He's gonna get caught, just you wait and see
(Why's everybody always pickin' on me?)
Yours in fast-walking, love, Victurd.
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Sorry, it’s too late……..
Huh? The hell you talking about? You… Me… Things we said “I’ve always wanted to _______.” Too late, can’t. Too old. Don’t have the money now. Too far. Too many steps. Not enough time. We can’t. Are you crazy? Do that? NOW?
Visiting with a coworker yesterday. Very nice, smart lady. Was talking about her kid’s sports.. Maybe somewhat teasingly bemoaning the time involved with it all. Old guy (uh huh) chimed in “Oh, but, please.. Enjoy these times for they’re gone in a flash.” “Good, I can’t wait… get ‘em outta here.. I’ll get me a dog.”
She was teasing…….. I think.. Point being though, we take crap for granted. Good crap. We don’t take in a deep breath and say to ourself “Geez my life is a camera.. I couldn’t thinka any other place on the planet I’d rather be than right here, in the here and now.”
She laughed when she told me about the wanting a dog.. And I know it was facetious.. So I shared an email I got yesterday with her… “If you locked a wife and a dog in the trunk for an hour, which one would be glad to see you when you opened it?”.. Hehe.. Liked.
Victor, you talked “too late” then you started rambling, got off course like you always do. Oh, yeah. That. You see, I’m old. I’ve done a lot - but there’s so, so much more I would like to do/have done - but many things, it’s too late. We go on living, putting dreams, wants, whims, on the back burner - then, ‘afor ya know it, we’re too old, can’t reach the back burner.. Ain’t got enough funds, energy, time…maybe ain’t even gotta partner.
Cruise to Alaska? Make it happen. Salsa lessons? Get out the phone book. Volunteer in Africa? Ask around at church. Kid in sports? Take pictures. Keep your mind there. Look around, SEE. REMEMBER IT. ENGULF yourself in it.
I say screw bucket lists. Do ‘em. Live ‘em. Ok, writing down wants is cool, but damnit, make it happen - for one day it will be too late. When one is young, moves swiftly, anywhere/any way you wanna - tis hard to think of the day coming when that no longer is true. Trust me, it’ll happen. And it comes fast.
So I vote - visualize that want. Talk about it. Learn about it. See yourself doing that want. Then, take whatever steps need to happen to make it happen. Or, it’ll be too late.
House at the lake? Fast forward to poor savings and being fitty-seven, never gonna happen. If you’re 23, and you want it… hell yeah - plan. Then one day - do/have. Tired of being an accountant, wanna teach? DO IT. One day, too late. Not practical? Screw that, work a 2nd job tending a motel front desk. Suffer a tad for jubilation later. Later comes, but if no plan, later simply happens and the wants float on down the river.
“If I’da known then what I know now.” Screw that statement. It’s within all of us. Some have the gettyup and go, some ain’t.
I’d grade my life of ‘wants’ about a C. I suffered some financially ‘cause I found myself in jobs I didn’t wanna be in - so I vamoosed. Sure, got the regrets now of no huge 401K - but along the way I’ve met so many nice folks, enjoyed going to work every day - many trade offs for not having the almighty dollars.
Lot of things I wanted to do and didn’t, and perhaps even sadder - many things I DID do, didn’t realize how lucky I was at the time - and took the hours for granted.
I’m leaving now ‘cause I’m even boring myself. Main points. Dare. Do. And when you do, take pictures with the brain. Enjoy. Immerse. Realize how lucky you are to be doing that want.
That’s it. That’s all folks. Before it’s too late. Love, Victurd.
Visiting with a coworker yesterday. Very nice, smart lady. Was talking about her kid’s sports.. Maybe somewhat teasingly bemoaning the time involved with it all. Old guy (uh huh) chimed in “Oh, but, please.. Enjoy these times for they’re gone in a flash.” “Good, I can’t wait… get ‘em outta here.. I’ll get me a dog.”
She was teasing…….. I think.. Point being though, we take crap for granted. Good crap. We don’t take in a deep breath and say to ourself “Geez my life is a camera.. I couldn’t thinka any other place on the planet I’d rather be than right here, in the here and now.”
She laughed when she told me about the wanting a dog.. And I know it was facetious.. So I shared an email I got yesterday with her… “If you locked a wife and a dog in the trunk for an hour, which one would be glad to see you when you opened it?”.. Hehe.. Liked.
Victor, you talked “too late” then you started rambling, got off course like you always do. Oh, yeah. That. You see, I’m old. I’ve done a lot - but there’s so, so much more I would like to do/have done - but many things, it’s too late. We go on living, putting dreams, wants, whims, on the back burner - then, ‘afor ya know it, we’re too old, can’t reach the back burner.. Ain’t got enough funds, energy, time…maybe ain’t even gotta partner.
Cruise to Alaska? Make it happen. Salsa lessons? Get out the phone book. Volunteer in Africa? Ask around at church. Kid in sports? Take pictures. Keep your mind there. Look around, SEE. REMEMBER IT. ENGULF yourself in it.
I say screw bucket lists. Do ‘em. Live ‘em. Ok, writing down wants is cool, but damnit, make it happen - for one day it will be too late. When one is young, moves swiftly, anywhere/any way you wanna - tis hard to think of the day coming when that no longer is true. Trust me, it’ll happen. And it comes fast.
So I vote - visualize that want. Talk about it. Learn about it. See yourself doing that want. Then, take whatever steps need to happen to make it happen. Or, it’ll be too late.
House at the lake? Fast forward to poor savings and being fitty-seven, never gonna happen. If you’re 23, and you want it… hell yeah - plan. Then one day - do/have. Tired of being an accountant, wanna teach? DO IT. One day, too late. Not practical? Screw that, work a 2nd job tending a motel front desk. Suffer a tad for jubilation later. Later comes, but if no plan, later simply happens and the wants float on down the river.
“If I’da known then what I know now.” Screw that statement. It’s within all of us. Some have the gettyup and go, some ain’t.
I’d grade my life of ‘wants’ about a C. I suffered some financially ‘cause I found myself in jobs I didn’t wanna be in - so I vamoosed. Sure, got the regrets now of no huge 401K - but along the way I’ve met so many nice folks, enjoyed going to work every day - many trade offs for not having the almighty dollars.
Lot of things I wanted to do and didn’t, and perhaps even sadder - many things I DID do, didn’t realize how lucky I was at the time - and took the hours for granted.
I’m leaving now ‘cause I’m even boring myself. Main points. Dare. Do. And when you do, take pictures with the brain. Enjoy. Immerse. Realize how lucky you are to be doing that want.
That’s it. That’s all folks. Before it’s too late. Love, Victurd.
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