As a kid - I lived for wiffle ball. Fortunately, my folks didn’t have the passion to have “the most wonderfully manicured/green, yard on the block.”
Home plate was actually a home plate, and of course, no grass grew from under. Paths to each base worn. The water meter was second base. How no one ever got hurt sliding into the water meter is beyond me, but it never happened.
Launching one onto the Miller’s front porch was an automatic One Run Homer. The second story - two run homer. To the roof, not only ‘neighborhood legend’, but Grand Slam.
We measured the distance to the curb infronta the Curtis’s house - and recorded it in chalk on the curb. Same thing to the curb infronta the Melrose dorm..
We even went so far as to take a brand spankin’ new white T Shirt - and emblazon the number of our favorite player in magic marker on it. (Of course, Stan the Man, #6.)
Parents each, took their turn somewhere into the game, to treat us all with Koolaid. Chores, meals happened - but they were but a respite to the game that was to assuredly continue.
Arguments? You bet. Fun? Hell yeah. Good plays? Of course. Boners? Absolutely.
We were kids. Safe. Having fun. Sweating. Being, doing. Living. Passionate.
Silly - maybe, but I still look at life - especially this stage, this age… as I looked at wiffle ball back in the day. Can’t wait to get up, get outta bed, “ready to play.”
It’s a perfect age. Not so far from our youthhood to not remember it… yet full well knowing one day the sun will set and the game will be over.
So still……. Having fun. Sweating. Being, doing. Living. Passionate.
With kudos out to Mr. Ernie Banks…… “Let’s play two” (too).. For one day the sun will set, and I’m gonna enjoy the hell outta this wiffle ball game of life ‘til then. Love, Victurd
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
There are stars in the Southern sky......
Southward as you go
There is moonlight
And moss in the trees
Down the Seven Bridges Road
Bridges… bridges are remarkable… both the literal “how to help get from here, to there”… and the connectors of one life stage to the next..
Now I have loved you like a baby
Like some lonesome child
And I have loved you in a tame way
And I have loved you wild
Love is a bridge.. a connection.. . Maternal/paternal love.. Junior high love.. young adult love… spousal love.. friendship love.. lifelong love.. love of life..
Sometimes there's a part of me
Has to turn from here and go
Running like a child from these warm stars
Down the Seven Bridges Road
Bridges aide us in the advancement from rugrat, wobbler, youth, young adult, middle aged, senior, old fart. Scary those trips across the bridges may be. Some, get stuck on the bridge and never leave ‘the stage’.. some, sadly, never get to cross the bridge into the next stage…
There are stars in the Southern sky
And if ever you decide
You should go
There is a taste of time sweetened honey
Down the Seven Bridges Road
Many things can block the path across the bridge… fear.. lack of confidence.. depression.. physical/mental misfortune… accident… illness..
Just had a bridge here in Kansas City collapse.. ‘new’… 3 years old.. “bridges are supposed to last 60 to 80 years” engineers tell us. Doctor could say the same thing about ‘folks’. Relationships. Friendships. The aforementioned bridge is to be repaired by September 30. Some bridges in life may never be repaired, spanned again.
This wasn’t meant to be about death – but it is a real thing, and never with good timing.
Was supposed to be about us giving thanks to bridges, ie, appreciating life and it’s connectors... (Victor, preaching again?)... please remember, I write FOR me… hitchhikers welcome.. Thanks for the great times we’ve had crossing life’s bridges.. thanks for the connections… thanks for the bond in our various types of love… Thanks for the courage to cross bridges, albeit sometimes with not-so-good endings.. sometimes though, wonderful, lifelasting connections.
Seeya on the other side…… love, Victurd
There is moonlight
And moss in the trees
Down the Seven Bridges Road
Bridges… bridges are remarkable… both the literal “how to help get from here, to there”… and the connectors of one life stage to the next..
Now I have loved you like a baby
Like some lonesome child
And I have loved you in a tame way
And I have loved you wild
Love is a bridge.. a connection.. . Maternal/paternal love.. Junior high love.. young adult love… spousal love.. friendship love.. lifelong love.. love of life..
Sometimes there's a part of me
Has to turn from here and go
Running like a child from these warm stars
Down the Seven Bridges Road
Bridges aide us in the advancement from rugrat, wobbler, youth, young adult, middle aged, senior, old fart. Scary those trips across the bridges may be. Some, get stuck on the bridge and never leave ‘the stage’.. some, sadly, never get to cross the bridge into the next stage…
There are stars in the Southern sky
And if ever you decide
You should go
There is a taste of time sweetened honey
Down the Seven Bridges Road
Many things can block the path across the bridge… fear.. lack of confidence.. depression.. physical/mental misfortune… accident… illness..
Just had a bridge here in Kansas City collapse.. ‘new’… 3 years old.. “bridges are supposed to last 60 to 80 years” engineers tell us. Doctor could say the same thing about ‘folks’. Relationships. Friendships. The aforementioned bridge is to be repaired by September 30. Some bridges in life may never be repaired, spanned again.
This wasn’t meant to be about death – but it is a real thing, and never with good timing.
Was supposed to be about us giving thanks to bridges, ie, appreciating life and it’s connectors... (Victor, preaching again?)... please remember, I write FOR me… hitchhikers welcome.. Thanks for the great times we’ve had crossing life’s bridges.. thanks for the connections… thanks for the bond in our various types of love… Thanks for the courage to cross bridges, albeit sometimes with not-so-good endings.. sometimes though, wonderful, lifelasting connections.
Seeya on the other side…… love, Victurd
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
I've had all I can stand, I can't stands no more!
Me, yesterday. No matter which way I turned, what I typed, who I talked to on the phone – each/all contributed to the day “going South.” My already red-face just got redder and redder. Inwardly, I wanted to blurt “AHHHHHHHHHHHHH… ENOUGHHHHHHHHH”… I simply wasn’t happy. “S” was happening, and I let it get the besta me. Me no happy camper. Me like camping, why no happy? No, no, no – don’t mean “what led to this” (me no happy), I mean “why do I allow this” (me no happy)….
So………… this morning I decided to Google “How to be happy.”
Ok, the all-powerful Wiki (the Funk and Wagnall of the modern ilk), tells me “Step 1, be optimistic…. Let go of the assumption that the world is against you, or that you were born with a gray cloud over your head.” (They even had a picture of a half full glass. Yippee, and my catch phrase has always been “it’s neither, the bastard leaks.”)
Yeah, yeah, Ok. “Be optimistic.” I do remember seeing the billboard this morning in commute that the Powerball is up to $37 million… that what you mean?
“How to be laid back.” I’ve been accused of being that. Prolly my slow work habits, mebbe even ‘cause the collars on my shirt never look the same on each side, there’s usually 5 McDonalds sacks on my car floorboard, I dunno.. Wiki says “slow down… do one thing at a time.. stop being a perfectionist.. focus on what you have, not what you have to do.” Hmmm… K. I am NOT gonna think about you, you 67 unread emails in my work inbox… rather.. I’m gonna smile, focus on the $127.42 my bank website tells me I have until payday, and the three slices of bread left atop the fridge. Wik, you da man.
“Live in the moment… take notice of the world around you.. focus on whatever you’re doing.. smile when you wake up.. commit random, spontaneous acts of kindness. be thankful for ‘what is’..” Yeah yeah, k. Tried it this morning, first thing. Smiled. Then looked at BR mirror. Holy shit. As a random act of kindness, I dampened my hair, kinda sorta got it back in place. I’m getting there yeah? Soon, I’ll be happy.
“Follow your gut.” No problem there. As most 50-something men, mine too kinda projects out there a bit. I’m always following it. “Make enough money to meet your basic needs.” Wiki, you’re pissing me off now, I WANT HAPPY. I’M A PEOPLE PERSON FOR BEHOOGETY SAKES!! Ok, so I’ll get a 2nd job. Welcome to Hardees, may I take your order?
“Find happiness in the job you have now.” We’re back to where all this started. I let ma job get the besta me yesterday. I am thankful for my job, and I do LIKE my job. I just slipped yesterday. Happens. Not good, but happens.
“Smile…Science suggests that when you smile, whether you feel happy or not, your mood will be elevated. So smile all the time!”
Ok, Ok, I did learn a bit Wik’, thanks. (And…… before Googling alla the above crap Wiki spieled out, I went to my local hangout after work yesterday. I coulda saved a whole lotta typing if I’da just suggested “Four beers.” Four beers worked wonders. I was optimistic. Laid back. Living the moment. Following (and filling) my gut. And smiling…… So, I guess, if I’m recommending anything here, you can write down alla Wik’s suggestions on a tablet, keep tablet within reach at all times… or simply remember, four beers.
Love, hiccup, Victurd
So………… this morning I decided to Google “How to be happy.”
Ok, the all-powerful Wiki (the Funk and Wagnall of the modern ilk), tells me “Step 1, be optimistic…. Let go of the assumption that the world is against you, or that you were born with a gray cloud over your head.” (They even had a picture of a half full glass. Yippee, and my catch phrase has always been “it’s neither, the bastard leaks.”)
Yeah, yeah, Ok. “Be optimistic.” I do remember seeing the billboard this morning in commute that the Powerball is up to $37 million… that what you mean?
“How to be laid back.” I’ve been accused of being that. Prolly my slow work habits, mebbe even ‘cause the collars on my shirt never look the same on each side, there’s usually 5 McDonalds sacks on my car floorboard, I dunno.. Wiki says “slow down… do one thing at a time.. stop being a perfectionist.. focus on what you have, not what you have to do.” Hmmm… K. I am NOT gonna think about you, you 67 unread emails in my work inbox… rather.. I’m gonna smile, focus on the $127.42 my bank website tells me I have until payday, and the three slices of bread left atop the fridge. Wik, you da man.
“Live in the moment… take notice of the world around you.. focus on whatever you’re doing.. smile when you wake up.. commit random, spontaneous acts of kindness. be thankful for ‘what is’..” Yeah yeah, k. Tried it this morning, first thing. Smiled. Then looked at BR mirror. Holy shit. As a random act of kindness, I dampened my hair, kinda sorta got it back in place. I’m getting there yeah? Soon, I’ll be happy.
“Follow your gut.” No problem there. As most 50-something men, mine too kinda projects out there a bit. I’m always following it. “Make enough money to meet your basic needs.” Wiki, you’re pissing me off now, I WANT HAPPY. I’M A PEOPLE PERSON FOR BEHOOGETY SAKES!! Ok, so I’ll get a 2nd job. Welcome to Hardees, may I take your order?
“Find happiness in the job you have now.” We’re back to where all this started. I let ma job get the besta me yesterday. I am thankful for my job, and I do LIKE my job. I just slipped yesterday. Happens. Not good, but happens.
“Smile…Science suggests that when you smile, whether you feel happy or not, your mood will be elevated. So smile all the time!”
Ok, Ok, I did learn a bit Wik’, thanks. (And…… before Googling alla the above crap Wiki spieled out, I went to my local hangout after work yesterday. I coulda saved a whole lotta typing if I’da just suggested “Four beers.” Four beers worked wonders. I was optimistic. Laid back. Living the moment. Following (and filling) my gut. And smiling…… So, I guess, if I’m recommending anything here, you can write down alla Wik’s suggestions on a tablet, keep tablet within reach at all times… or simply remember, four beers.
Love, hiccup, Victurd
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Scary stuff.....
In the morning newspaper…
Usually can’t wait for the sound of the paper to hit the driveway (well, hell, that’s not actually true.. Got behind in my bill a bit many moons ago, ‘fore too long, didn’t hear that sound. Sooooooooo, I drive to Mickey D’s, they have free ones!)
Anyways, I am in the “can’t wait’ mode to read, grasp, learn, keep up… and then I read crap, and I think “WHY? Why am I in sucha hurry this day, and any day - to read this crap?
After struggling thru “woman impaled on wrought-iron fence” and “two youths drown at FCA camp in Iowa".. On the application to camp, parents had written “Can’t swim” for each. 19 lifeguards - youths found at bottom of pool around 10:30pm, both.
Geez…
And then, the most revolting: Billy Roper is a write-in candidate for governor of Arkansas and an unapologetic white nationalist. “I don’t want non-whites in my country in any form or fashion or any status,” he says........ Are you serious? Isn’t this 2010? Wtf?
I suppose it’s a good thing I was born Caucasian, for I’d probably be dead now from fighting back. Unfortunately, I’m old enough to have seen some ugly stuff - but will never quite get the full picture from the shoes of the ones discriminated against.
A friend so eloquently put it: “Sometimes I take the view of "The world is going to hell in a handbasket". ...many times, it just makes me sad..Man's inequities towards man...or woman...I don't know what makes people tick...How can we place ourselves above others?...what makes us think that the plight of any living person is of less importance/value than our own? "Can't we all just get along?"
So, I needed a ‘feel good’.. Out and about into real life to see if “does life really look like it does from Mr. Roper’s shoes?”…..
The Kansas City - City Market. Ahhhh.. A genuine breath of fresh air, in the fresh air. Good gosh, folks of every descent. Every skin tone. Virtually every language. Size, shape, age, religious belief, religious non-belief, orientation.. And it was working. It does work. It can work. Thank you Kansas City. With no apologies for my French, FYVM Mr. Roper.
I/we walk daily with the thought of telling a vet, “thank you.” I almost feel the urge to tell anyone I fear might have ever been discriminated against “I’m sorry.”
Fortunately, good outweighs bad - but life still leaves us shaking our head upon occasion.
Love, Victurd
Usually can’t wait for the sound of the paper to hit the driveway (well, hell, that’s not actually true.. Got behind in my bill a bit many moons ago, ‘fore too long, didn’t hear that sound. Sooooooooo, I drive to Mickey D’s, they have free ones!)
Anyways, I am in the “can’t wait’ mode to read, grasp, learn, keep up… and then I read crap, and I think “WHY? Why am I in sucha hurry this day, and any day - to read this crap?
After struggling thru “woman impaled on wrought-iron fence” and “two youths drown at FCA camp in Iowa".. On the application to camp, parents had written “Can’t swim” for each. 19 lifeguards - youths found at bottom of pool around 10:30pm, both.
Geez…
And then, the most revolting: Billy Roper is a write-in candidate for governor of Arkansas and an unapologetic white nationalist. “I don’t want non-whites in my country in any form or fashion or any status,” he says........ Are you serious? Isn’t this 2010? Wtf?
I suppose it’s a good thing I was born Caucasian, for I’d probably be dead now from fighting back. Unfortunately, I’m old enough to have seen some ugly stuff - but will never quite get the full picture from the shoes of the ones discriminated against.
A friend so eloquently put it: “Sometimes I take the view of "The world is going to hell in a handbasket". ...many times, it just makes me sad..Man's inequities towards man...or woman...I don't know what makes people tick...How can we place ourselves above others?...what makes us think that the plight of any living person is of less importance/value than our own? "Can't we all just get along?"
So, I needed a ‘feel good’.. Out and about into real life to see if “does life really look like it does from Mr. Roper’s shoes?”…..
The Kansas City - City Market. Ahhhh.. A genuine breath of fresh air, in the fresh air. Good gosh, folks of every descent. Every skin tone. Virtually every language. Size, shape, age, religious belief, religious non-belief, orientation.. And it was working. It does work. It can work. Thank you Kansas City. With no apologies for my French, FYVM Mr. Roper.
I/we walk daily with the thought of telling a vet, “thank you.” I almost feel the urge to tell anyone I fear might have ever been discriminated against “I’m sorry.”
Fortunately, good outweighs bad - but life still leaves us shaking our head upon occasion.
Love, Victurd
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Fun things to say/hear………
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
Hi, I’m giving my two week notice………. Notice?
La Mariposa
I do.
I love you.
You rock.
“OHHHH…… MYYYY…. GODDDDD”…. VICTOR!
Sorry…
Gosh, it’s only Sunday morning……
Yummy.
I like you.
But don’t let it go to your head.
I usedta couldn’t spell supervisor, now I are one.
Why do women always announce when they’re going to pee?
What the hell is wrong with you… you’re always in a good mood?
KU lost.
OH BABY - WHAT A PLAY!…..
You put the lime in the coconut you drink it all up…..
Can I wash your back?
Unique New York (THREE times… REAL Fast!)
Geezer, old fart, townie, hippie, hillbilly, simpleton, uppity, “Jaaahnson County”..
Suckface….
Walter, you son-of-a-bitch…..
Who the hell are those guys?
Are you all… crazy?
What you talking about Willis….
Got your bullet Barney?
‘Aint’ Bea…
It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood…
Tequila!
Wanna golf tonight?
Good God the meat on these BBQ ribs is falling off the bone….
More coffee?
Behind every great man there's a woman rolling her eyes
Behind every great woman.... is a man checking out her ass..
Until the day I pee my pants and forget my name.
Love, Victurd
Hi, I’m giving my two week notice………. Notice?
La Mariposa
I do.
I love you.
You rock.
“OHHHH…… MYYYY…. GODDDDD”…. VICTOR!
Sorry…
Gosh, it’s only Sunday morning……
Yummy.
I like you.
But don’t let it go to your head.
I usedta couldn’t spell supervisor, now I are one.
Why do women always announce when they’re going to pee?
What the hell is wrong with you… you’re always in a good mood?
KU lost.
OH BABY - WHAT A PLAY!…..
You put the lime in the coconut you drink it all up…..
Can I wash your back?
Unique New York (THREE times… REAL Fast!)
Geezer, old fart, townie, hippie, hillbilly, simpleton, uppity, “Jaaahnson County”..
Suckface….
Walter, you son-of-a-bitch…..
Who the hell are those guys?
Are you all… crazy?
What you talking about Willis….
Got your bullet Barney?
‘Aint’ Bea…
It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood…
Tequila!
Wanna golf tonight?
Good God the meat on these BBQ ribs is falling off the bone….
More coffee?
Behind every great man there's a woman rolling her eyes
Behind every great woman.... is a man checking out her ass..
Until the day I pee my pants and forget my name.
Love, Victurd
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Still movin’……..
Long ago, a buddy’o mine and I, oh, mebbe 18 each, attended an X-rated Drive In movie. Uh huh, they usedta have 'em. After handing over licenses to ensure we were of age, we slowly pulled into the place, ducking down so as not to be seen/recognized. Later, we giggled “hell, if we’re here, they’re here.”
Kinda got that feel this morning, the same giggle – as I people watched/listened, at Mickey D’s. Mickey D’s for breakfast is the senior citizen equivalent to the teenagers local pizza joint, the City Park, the pool, the lake, wherever one ‘hangs’…
Interesting to watch and try to see “who’s together” – “what was their life like”.. “what happened to their mates”… are there still attempts among you to ‘suckface?’.. “Can you still..” VICTOR! Sorry. . Just wondered…
So…. as I was sitting.. “ducking down so as not to be seen/recognized” I realized, I too “am one.” Know I’ve probably blurted before – but, the day of reckoning was “I’d like a sausage biscuit and a black coffee please.” “One sausage biscuit and one Senior coffee coming right up.” Bastard. But, reckon he was right. I am one. No sense in ducking down. (And fitty-nine cents is a wonderful thing.)
I quite pride of myself for crossword completion of the daily KC Star puzzle. (Ok, you’re right, some days of the week I complete it fully.) I was seated just next to two gents, 70-ish (at least.. prolly closer to 80.) There, they each had a copy of the crossword opened… along with a laptop, two huge books (I assume dictionaries) .. and it was a verbal tag team match for them to complete jointly. One thought he found an answer – but offered it to his buddy for his confirmation.
I’m thinking to myself, “simpletons, you don’t need no laptop to do the Star’s CW puzzle, it’s cinchy.. hell even I can do it.. and my first semester in college I proudly had a 1.65 gpa.”
Then, after I’d read the paper, tossed down two cups of coffee – I too attacked the puzzle. I’d hear them say “the clue.”.. “29 across is…….”… after a few minutes of that, combined with me working the puzzle, I realized, hell, they were working the New York Times Crossword puzzle.. one my puny little brain could NEVA’ be able to do. Sorry about the ‘simpleton’ fellas.. I rearrange my thoughts to – I think it marvy that, whilst one is 70-something, to still carry the angst to learn, and doing so via modern technology is a pretty damn cool thing.. U dudes rock.
A couple across from me.. came in at different times – so I knew not together.. yet, friends – each. Guy had a cool laugh.. and quizzed the gal about life in general. Then she specifically started talking about her daughter in Louisiana.. “she wants me to move there.. nice place to visit, but I’d never live there.”..
Guy continued on asking questions… She gotta house? No… Apartment? No… “I don’t wanna talk about it.”.. Coaxed further.. “a trailer.” Double-wide? “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
She then went on talking about it, and talking about it, and talking about it. Thrice times in their conversation I heard “I don’t wanna talk about it”.. and shortly after she resembled a balloon that’s been popped… spouting, spewing… talking about it. He tried to get up and go (politely) four times.. 4th time.. “I’ve GOT to go” (nicely).. .she kept talking.. He was a gent, she was very lonely…. Certain she drove to Mickey D’s ‘cause she didn’t wanna talk about it.
Interesting the responses, not just in “old-dom”, but in regular ole regular life to the question “howya doin?”…. My pat answer at work is “tired and old.” Young punks usually giggle, say “well.. I’m tired and young.” I always follow with what Roy Williams (former KU basketball coach.. I can’t believe I’m quoting a GD [gosh darn] chickenhawk) would say.. he’d tell his players “you’re TOO YOUNG to be tired.”
Dude at Mickey D’s today. Another 70-80 tweener.. upon being asked howya doin……
“Still movin’.” Beats the hell outta the alternative. Still moving, recognizing, appreciating, enjoying. The older ya get, the more special the days are. Damn my hip hurts. Still moving, barely. No idea what I did to it. Perhaps it has something to do with a not-so-perfect golf swing. Oh well, still moving.
Mickey D's in the morning is their slice of pizza pie... their cannonball off the high dive.. their boombox in the park.. I love old people. Guess I should. I am one.
Have fun from this day forward whilst we’re still moving. Until the day I pee my pants and forget my name, love Victurd.
Kinda got that feel this morning, the same giggle – as I people watched/listened, at Mickey D’s. Mickey D’s for breakfast is the senior citizen equivalent to the teenagers local pizza joint, the City Park, the pool, the lake, wherever one ‘hangs’…
Interesting to watch and try to see “who’s together” – “what was their life like”.. “what happened to their mates”… are there still attempts among you to ‘suckface?’.. “Can you still..” VICTOR! Sorry. . Just wondered…
So…. as I was sitting.. “ducking down so as not to be seen/recognized” I realized, I too “am one.” Know I’ve probably blurted before – but, the day of reckoning was “I’d like a sausage biscuit and a black coffee please.” “One sausage biscuit and one Senior coffee coming right up.” Bastard. But, reckon he was right. I am one. No sense in ducking down. (And fitty-nine cents is a wonderful thing.)
I quite pride of myself for crossword completion of the daily KC Star puzzle. (Ok, you’re right, some days of the week I complete it fully.) I was seated just next to two gents, 70-ish (at least.. prolly closer to 80.) There, they each had a copy of the crossword opened… along with a laptop, two huge books (I assume dictionaries) .. and it was a verbal tag team match for them to complete jointly. One thought he found an answer – but offered it to his buddy for his confirmation.
I’m thinking to myself, “simpletons, you don’t need no laptop to do the Star’s CW puzzle, it’s cinchy.. hell even I can do it.. and my first semester in college I proudly had a 1.65 gpa.”
Then, after I’d read the paper, tossed down two cups of coffee – I too attacked the puzzle. I’d hear them say “the clue.”.. “29 across is…….”… after a few minutes of that, combined with me working the puzzle, I realized, hell, they were working the New York Times Crossword puzzle.. one my puny little brain could NEVA’ be able to do. Sorry about the ‘simpleton’ fellas.. I rearrange my thoughts to – I think it marvy that, whilst one is 70-something, to still carry the angst to learn, and doing so via modern technology is a pretty damn cool thing.. U dudes rock.
A couple across from me.. came in at different times – so I knew not together.. yet, friends – each. Guy had a cool laugh.. and quizzed the gal about life in general. Then she specifically started talking about her daughter in Louisiana.. “she wants me to move there.. nice place to visit, but I’d never live there.”..
Guy continued on asking questions… She gotta house? No… Apartment? No… “I don’t wanna talk about it.”.. Coaxed further.. “a trailer.” Double-wide? “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
She then went on talking about it, and talking about it, and talking about it. Thrice times in their conversation I heard “I don’t wanna talk about it”.. and shortly after she resembled a balloon that’s been popped… spouting, spewing… talking about it. He tried to get up and go (politely) four times.. 4th time.. “I’ve GOT to go” (nicely).. .she kept talking.. He was a gent, she was very lonely…. Certain she drove to Mickey D’s ‘cause she didn’t wanna talk about it.
Interesting the responses, not just in “old-dom”, but in regular ole regular life to the question “howya doin?”…. My pat answer at work is “tired and old.” Young punks usually giggle, say “well.. I’m tired and young.” I always follow with what Roy Williams (former KU basketball coach.. I can’t believe I’m quoting a GD [gosh darn] chickenhawk) would say.. he’d tell his players “you’re TOO YOUNG to be tired.”
Dude at Mickey D’s today. Another 70-80 tweener.. upon being asked howya doin……
“Still movin’.” Beats the hell outta the alternative. Still moving, recognizing, appreciating, enjoying. The older ya get, the more special the days are. Damn my hip hurts. Still moving, barely. No idea what I did to it. Perhaps it has something to do with a not-so-perfect golf swing. Oh well, still moving.
Mickey D's in the morning is their slice of pizza pie... their cannonball off the high dive.. their boombox in the park.. I love old people. Guess I should. I am one.
Have fun from this day forward whilst we’re still moving. Until the day I pee my pants and forget my name, love Victurd.
Monday, July 05, 2010
Pomp & Circumstance…..
Of course, we recognize this as the song typically played as the graduating class, be it high school or college - walks on stage to signal their end, or their beginning.
I look at life, this song, and think of it more along the lines of “what the hell now?”…
Was visiting with beautiful cousin’s kid recently.. Graduates from College in December.. When asked “whadda ya gonna do in the real world?”.. replied, “dunno, scared.” As she went on further, learned she’s solidly aground in an internship program with a huge company, and she’ll have an easy (and well earned) transition.
Life though, brings us to those points “what the hell now?” occasionally. Death of a loved one. Divorce. Job loss. Illness.. Family history of depression… Financial trauma.. Being on the wrong end of verbal abuse, physical abuse… Weight gain.. Career not going as planned.. Feelings of inadequacy, and I would imagine, perhaps even aging..
Getting out of the blocks, in this “what the hell now” period is easy for many.. Resiliency. Approach versus reproach.
Some, however, mire. I’ve done both. Get-up-and-go… and I’ve also on other Pomps, mired in the circumstance . I guess mire would kinda be like falling off a boat in the middle of the ocean… you do nuttin’ all day ‘cept tread water. The longer you go, the harder the treading goes - and sometimes you actually feel inwardly “why even tread?”
The more ya need to do the things that’ll help ‘get you outta the water’ (social interaction, frequent contact with good friends/loved ones, confiding your feelings with someone close, eating well/right, exercising, perhaps professional assistance) the more depression tugs on your sleeve and says “huh uh… we ain‘t doin‘ that/”
Quoting Popeye, “I cants be’s nos doctor ‘cause I’m losing my patience” - I’m not a doctor, but just from own personal observation, sometimes I believe depression is situational. In very rare instances, I believe there can be a life changing event (or events) that puts that pep back in your step… lifts you back into the boat where coping with the real world is allofasudden, easier, more natural. Generally though, I think it’s a process, and you (the depressed one) gotta be the center of directing that process.
It’s not fun admitting ever being depressed, but I write in case you are.. Or in case you suspect a friend is.. Or a family member… Or simply should you run across it in the future, you’ll be better outfitted to assist…
It’s my guess, more of us (than not) have at one point in our lives, been depressed…
Below is a pretty decent article I found on basically how to deal with depression.. I welcome you to browse thru it, even if you personally have never been depressed.. Will help give u the tools to help someone you love that might be……
Thanks and love, Victurd…..
http://helpguide.org/mental/depression_tips.htm
I look at life, this song, and think of it more along the lines of “what the hell now?”…
Was visiting with beautiful cousin’s kid recently.. Graduates from College in December.. When asked “whadda ya gonna do in the real world?”.. replied, “dunno, scared.” As she went on further, learned she’s solidly aground in an internship program with a huge company, and she’ll have an easy (and well earned) transition.
Life though, brings us to those points “what the hell now?” occasionally. Death of a loved one. Divorce. Job loss. Illness.. Family history of depression… Financial trauma.. Being on the wrong end of verbal abuse, physical abuse… Weight gain.. Career not going as planned.. Feelings of inadequacy, and I would imagine, perhaps even aging..
Getting out of the blocks, in this “what the hell now” period is easy for many.. Resiliency. Approach versus reproach.
Some, however, mire. I’ve done both. Get-up-and-go… and I’ve also on other Pomps, mired in the circumstance . I guess mire would kinda be like falling off a boat in the middle of the ocean… you do nuttin’ all day ‘cept tread water. The longer you go, the harder the treading goes - and sometimes you actually feel inwardly “why even tread?”
The more ya need to do the things that’ll help ‘get you outta the water’ (social interaction, frequent contact with good friends/loved ones, confiding your feelings with someone close, eating well/right, exercising, perhaps professional assistance) the more depression tugs on your sleeve and says “huh uh… we ain‘t doin‘ that/”
Quoting Popeye, “I cants be’s nos doctor ‘cause I’m losing my patience” - I’m not a doctor, but just from own personal observation, sometimes I believe depression is situational. In very rare instances, I believe there can be a life changing event (or events) that puts that pep back in your step… lifts you back into the boat where coping with the real world is allofasudden, easier, more natural. Generally though, I think it’s a process, and you (the depressed one) gotta be the center of directing that process.
It’s not fun admitting ever being depressed, but I write in case you are.. Or in case you suspect a friend is.. Or a family member… Or simply should you run across it in the future, you’ll be better outfitted to assist…
It’s my guess, more of us (than not) have at one point in our lives, been depressed…
Below is a pretty decent article I found on basically how to deal with depression.. I welcome you to browse thru it, even if you personally have never been depressed.. Will help give u the tools to help someone you love that might be……
Thanks and love, Victurd…..
http://helpguide.org/mental/depression_tips.htm
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