Eh, I dunno. Folks gotta right to click or not click. Put it in reverse, get the help outta here – or, read on, bootscoot any time they wanna.
Monday-Tuesday-ish:
Outside, cig at work one day last week, winged at a buddy: “Hey ________, how's your day going?” (_____ = to protect the innocent.) “Oh man, it's been a crappy day. I was driving to work and I smelled gas. It got REAL bad, so I pulled over. When someone stole my car last month, they jacked with the gas cap and it no longer stays attached, so I must've left it at the gas station. So, I turn around, go back, hoping the “Indian feller” found it and kept it for me. I pull in and he's ranting and raving at me. I'd forgotten to get some cigs after I bought 'em last week, and he'd remembered that, given them to me. So I couldn't figure out why he was so upset over a gas cap.... then.. 'MY PUMP, YEW DROVE OFF WID MY PUMP.. DE HOSE AND ALL.' Oh shit, I had. I'd forgotten to take it out once it stopped.”
Tuesday-Wednesday-ish
I received what just might be the most fun email I've ever received. (Women might wanna “put the browser in reverse” here):
(The PG13 version) “The Fairy Tale”.. Once upon a time, a Prince asked a beautiful Princess “will you marry me”? The Princess said NO And the Prince lived happily ever after and rode motorcycles and smooched on skinny big boobed broads and hunted and raced cars and went to nudey bars and dated women half his age and drank whiskey, beer and wine and never heard bitching and never paid child support or alimony and kept his house and guns and never got cheated on while he was at work and all his friends and family thought he was frigging cool as hell and had tons of money in the bank and left the toilet seat up ..... The end
Victor? PLEASE tell me you DIDN”T forward that to your ex too did you? (GUILTY!)
Wednesday-Thursday-ish....
Left front, right rear, taking turns to see which could be the first to completely go flat. Many a morning, I limped to the gas station, Willie Makeit. ENOUGH. Go to Mr. Tire. Local owned joint, reputable, used 'em many a time. Left car. Fitteen dollars apiece to repair a tire. Reasonable. Drop it off. Back some two hours later. “Oh, he (the guy that worked on tires) needs to talk to ya.”... “Hi sir, well, your tires are ok, it's just that they're not sealing around those Aluminum wheels.. it's pretty common.. so I didn't fix anything... that one is already lost a buncha air.” Damnit-darnit. Whadda I owe ya? “Oh nothing.”
The Alley-min-yum comes from my British friend Pete Anderson. Slinging suitcases for United Airlines years ago, he says … 'ey Vic,'hand me that Alley-min-yum one wouldya?” HUH? So, the pronunciation in Britain I reckon.
The tires? I gave 'em my best 'checkenginelight' little dab of silicone sealer between the tire and wheel, so far, so good. (Knock on Alley-min-yum)..
Thursday evening-Friday morning....
Another round of snow/cold. 30 mph on Interstate going home Thursday.. Roads STILL terrible Friday am. Didn't see pavement for first 18 miles. Made it, fingernails a tad shorter. We're up to 32"s of snow for the year in the KC Metro area. March Madness reminds us "5 of the 10 heaviest snows have occured in March over the years." Damn daddy.
Saturday
Visitation (actually it was really “A celebration of life") for onea my best friends father, Bud. Basement of rental hall.. Very nice... Casual.. The 'theme' was “wear MU gear.” Bud was my little league coach for years and years.. Followed us old codgers into our softball playing days.. My fellow bowling teammate. My friend, as well as my friend's father.. A nice, nice man. Upbeat was the mood... Three humongous “Picture walls” of photos from his 77 years of life.. WONDERFUL pictures.. Little league pics.. Our bowling team.. and of course tons of family. Bud's wife walked up to me smilingly, and I lost it. Very hard to talk. Tears welled up. “I'm so sorry Mary” as I hugged her. I'd slipped and gone “against the grain/idea” of the celebration – and I felt badly.. I know though she knows how much I loved her hubby. While sure, extremely sad the reason we'd gathered - many, many a folk there that we shared 'living our youth, 20's, 30's, 40's".. I pray for the family in the weeks ahead as I know they will be the roughest.
Today... Sunday...
A little brown, not-so-very pretty bird.. tapping on my window with it's beak. As if to say “HEY YOU.. I flew North too damn early... lemme in?” Wondered what kind it was, then, a moment later a beautiful, vibrant red cardinal perched beside too. AHA. Since all the women 'left' at the Fairly Tale story, then I can share that the male species of the cardinal is the very beautiful, bright red plumage, colorful one – and the females are actually quite drab.
That's my week, and I'm sticking to it. Sorry (kinda) to ramble – it's just how I am. Love, Victurd.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Please don't rain on my Parade....
“Hi sweetie”... I hear this every Saturday and Sunday morning at Mickey D's.. Nice enough kid... Due to my Pavlov behavior, I don't even have to order my breakfast... She codes it in, smiles, collects my $2.80 – and fetches me my goodies. In hanging around there for sometime now, I've noticed one has to order a “Senior Coffee” to earn the greeting “Hi sweetie.” Still, perty cool.
Sport's page, Sausage biscuit, front page, Sausage McMuffin, local page, gulpa coffee, entertainment, scan the ads – coffee refill, then, finish up with Parade magazine. Today's front page: The Secrets To A Long Life.. Why is it, when one is young, ya never think about age – but as one ages, there are reminders allover all the time?
Article touched on some myths about living longer... “Marriage guarantees a longer life”... learn, not necessarily so for women, so for men. Men that have divorced – BEWARE. Oh shit.
“Taking it easy adds years to your life.” Article suggests early retirement, living at golf community ain't necessarily accurate for longevity. In fact, it suggests to continue working past retirement age. “Increased responsibility brings more challenges, but this paradoxically correlates with long-term health.” Ahm, this one's ok, cause after peeking at my retirement stash (insert hee-haw here) I will be working... and working... and working..
“You can worry yourself to death.” Parade rains in “actually, the opposite is true. The best predictor of longevity is conscientiousness.”
“More degrees mean more years.” Article took a turn to relate “we found when children entered first grade at age 5, not age 6, they often did not live as long.” Oh shit. I quite honestly couldn't have painted better parents, but I've always wondered why I went to kiddy-garten at age 4. Oh well. Oh shit. (Hopefully I more than made up for in earning my 4-year degree in 6 years. Hey, college was fun!)
“Friendly, outgoing people thrive.” Not necessarily Parade again sprinkles in. A “people person” may often join in the behaviors of the moment – and that affects longevity.” Oh shit.
“Jocks outlive nerds.” Of course exercise is good. If one becomes sedentary (like say sits and watches FB for too many GD (gosh darn) hours a day, it ain't a good thing. Oh shit.
Me thinks my own personal problem is I ain't so great at any kinda calendar other than the one that displays today's date - so I'm cursed that I "join in behaviors of the moment." Sorry, I live for today. Hard time planning for tomorrow. But (Victor, you butt, you can't start a sentence with but, I've told you that before...but bite me) but, I think living IS for the moment, the hour, the second. Sure, I've got bad habits – but at the enda the day, I've normally had fun (and haven't harmed anyone ceptin' mebbe Victurd). Rack a buncha them bastards up (living for the moment days)– and I'd say it's been a pretty good life.
If you dare to have them “rain on your Parade” too... you can login to their “How Fast Am I Aging” quiz and either be impressed or depressed, dependent upon your results.
http://www.parade.com/health/how-fast-are-you-aging.html?type=question
I was “average” which, actually caused me to let a little worried air outta the belly, cause I was just sure as shit (sorry to all my relatives, I occasionally cuss here) it was gonna say something like “You've got two, three years tops.”
I've proudly earned these wrinkles, this belly. I don't see much change on the horizon, scroll back to “live for the minute.” Minutes are good, they stack into hours, then days, then years, then – a fun compilation of life – whenever that day comes.
And your score? You gonna be around for awhile? Hope so, Love Victurd.
Sport's page, Sausage biscuit, front page, Sausage McMuffin, local page, gulpa coffee, entertainment, scan the ads – coffee refill, then, finish up with Parade magazine. Today's front page: The Secrets To A Long Life.. Why is it, when one is young, ya never think about age – but as one ages, there are reminders allover all the time?
Article touched on some myths about living longer... “Marriage guarantees a longer life”... learn, not necessarily so for women, so for men. Men that have divorced – BEWARE. Oh shit.
“Taking it easy adds years to your life.” Article suggests early retirement, living at golf community ain't necessarily accurate for longevity. In fact, it suggests to continue working past retirement age. “Increased responsibility brings more challenges, but this paradoxically correlates with long-term health.” Ahm, this one's ok, cause after peeking at my retirement stash (insert hee-haw here) I will be working... and working... and working..
“You can worry yourself to death.” Parade rains in “actually, the opposite is true. The best predictor of longevity is conscientiousness.”
“More degrees mean more years.” Article took a turn to relate “we found when children entered first grade at age 5, not age 6, they often did not live as long.” Oh shit. I quite honestly couldn't have painted better parents, but I've always wondered why I went to kiddy-garten at age 4. Oh well. Oh shit. (Hopefully I more than made up for in earning my 4-year degree in 6 years. Hey, college was fun!)
“Friendly, outgoing people thrive.” Not necessarily Parade again sprinkles in. A “people person” may often join in the behaviors of the moment – and that affects longevity.” Oh shit.
“Jocks outlive nerds.” Of course exercise is good. If one becomes sedentary (like say sits and watches FB for too many GD (gosh darn) hours a day, it ain't a good thing. Oh shit.
Me thinks my own personal problem is I ain't so great at any kinda calendar other than the one that displays today's date - so I'm cursed that I "join in behaviors of the moment." Sorry, I live for today. Hard time planning for tomorrow. But (Victor, you butt, you can't start a sentence with but, I've told you that before...but bite me) but, I think living IS for the moment, the hour, the second. Sure, I've got bad habits – but at the enda the day, I've normally had fun (and haven't harmed anyone ceptin' mebbe Victurd). Rack a buncha them bastards up (living for the moment days)– and I'd say it's been a pretty good life.
If you dare to have them “rain on your Parade” too... you can login to their “How Fast Am I Aging” quiz and either be impressed or depressed, dependent upon your results.
http://www.parade.com/health/how-fast-are-you-aging.html?type=question
I was “average” which, actually caused me to let a little worried air outta the belly, cause I was just sure as shit (sorry to all my relatives, I occasionally cuss here) it was gonna say something like “You've got two, three years tops.”
I've proudly earned these wrinkles, this belly. I don't see much change on the horizon, scroll back to “live for the minute.” Minutes are good, they stack into hours, then days, then years, then – a fun compilation of life – whenever that day comes.
And your score? You gonna be around for awhile? Hope so, Love Victurd.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda
Hello Mudda, Hello Fadda,
Drive a Buick now, not Granada..
Winter's poopy, and disdaining,
and the gas bills, so damn draining,
I went sledding, with Ralph Spivey,
He hit big tree, but still alivey
You remember Ida Skinner,
She got frostbite last night after dinner.
On the Interstates, are such haters..
At the 4-way, are no waiters..
I drive wimpy, such a sissy,
But my work now, I no missy..
Now I don't want this should scare ya,
but my blower fan, blows no air ya,
You remember Tommy Hardy,
Tongue stuck on pole last night at the party..
Bring me Spring, oh Mudda Fadda,
Bring me Spring, says this cantata,
Don't leave me out in the Winter where,
I catch pneumonia from frozen hair..
Bring me Spring, I promise not to make noise
I'll grab a club, play golf with other boys,
Oh please Winter go away,
Had enough, we're really here to say...
Dearest Fadda, darling Mudda,
Winter is sucha, great big dudda,
Bring me springtime, I do miss thee,
I would even let Aunt Bertha hug and kiss me
Wait a minute, it stopped freezing,
Playing softball, some guys sneezing,
And some golf too, gee that's betta
Mudda, fadda kindly disregard this letter.
Drive a Buick now, not Granada..
Winter's poopy, and disdaining,
and the gas bills, so damn draining,
I went sledding, with Ralph Spivey,
He hit big tree, but still alivey
You remember Ida Skinner,
She got frostbite last night after dinner.
On the Interstates, are such haters..
At the 4-way, are no waiters..
I drive wimpy, such a sissy,
But my work now, I no missy..
Now I don't want this should scare ya,
but my blower fan, blows no air ya,
You remember Tommy Hardy,
Tongue stuck on pole last night at the party..
Bring me Spring, oh Mudda Fadda,
Bring me Spring, says this cantata,
Don't leave me out in the Winter where,
I catch pneumonia from frozen hair..
Bring me Spring, I promise not to make noise
I'll grab a club, play golf with other boys,
Oh please Winter go away,
Had enough, we're really here to say...
Dearest Fadda, darling Mudda,
Winter is sucha, great big dudda,
Bring me springtime, I do miss thee,
I would even let Aunt Bertha hug and kiss me
Wait a minute, it stopped freezing,
Playing softball, some guys sneezing,
And some golf too, gee that's betta
Mudda, fadda kindly disregard this letter.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Thirsty?
Just “Whistle”!
Circa, I ain't sure how many years ago. Pretty certain it was my friend Rick Holman's father who asked it... And of course, the answer was a wonderful Vess Orange Soda. Rick's dad was nice enough to help some of us recovering from an airline going belly up – and I was a temporary “hod carrier” - those jobs had personality, and I was extremely thankful he'd bailed me/us out... Thirsty? Just Whistle!
Victor, howinthehell do u pick these topics
(and mebbe whyinthehell too)? You mean like “whistle?” Yes, like whistle. This will come as no shock to those that frequent “The Dish” pizza (and bar) joint.. .but... I have somewhat of an addictive behavior pattern, and onea those patterns is whistling.
I do it constantly at work. If I'm standing, walking, I'm whistling. Undecided if it's “see the funny little clown”: No one knows he's crying, no one knows he's dying on the inside, cause he's laughing (whistling) on the outside.. mmmmmm” OR... that I really am happy, enjoy every moment.. and simply whistle. I'd like to think the latter.
Onea my addictions this morning led me to the breakroom to partake in an 85-cent packa chocolate donuts, and a 65 cent bag of BBQ Fritos (this is a recording). As I entered (whilst whistling something) I hear “I bet I know who that is”... swung door open, “Yep, toldya.” So, a good thing whistling is. Identifiable. Up. Fun. Happy. Braggadocios? Quoting my wonderful stepson “Not no's but hells no's”.. Walking silently taint fun. Adding a whistle along the way helps. Mebbe makes one think of a happy Grandpa. (Victor, u dumbass, you are that.) SEE? Toldya!
Whistling, as in refereeing. My buddy and I do 1st/2nd grade basketball. Ya blow the whistle for a violation, and heck, the kids just ain't that far removed from “Johnnie Jump-ups” but all they know whistle means stop, so they do. The dads (some, not all) think you blow the whistle too much, or not enough, or at the wrong time, or for the wrong reason.
(Side note: nothing to do with whistling. For simplification, the five kids on each team wear different colored wristbands.. 5 colors total.. and the “red guy” guards the corresponding “red guy” on the other team, and blue/blue, green/green, yada/yada. Occasionally, onea the good/smart players will leave the blue guy he is guarding, and attempt to steal the ball from yellow guy. A no-no. As I wander around at age fitty-something, I've seen/heard the AGE DISCRIMINATION thingy. This years coaches, cool dudes. Not-so-much last year. One of the wet-behind-the-ears (sorry, I know judgmental) coaches hollered out “Can you even SEE the colors?”) Come to think of it, I guess that was kinda-sorta related to whistle, 'cause I damn near swallowed mine in laughter when he said that.
Clean as a whistle.... Not worth a whistle... Whistle down the wind... Whistle for it.. You ain't justa whistling Dixie... Whistle while you work... Wet your whistle... Calling a dog... A cop, stopping traffic... The “it's lunchtime” whistle... The Choo choo train's warning prior to an intersection.. Whistler's mother.. Whistleblowers...
In music...... Me and Julio down by the schoolyard... Centerfold.. Sittin' on the dock of the Bay... The Good, the Bad, the Ugly.. and (I'm old) my alltime fav “"The Bridge On The River Kwai"
And........ drum roll........... SPRING! I swear I've heard the kinda whistles from birds that ain't supposed to be back here yet. SWEET TWEETS! For us Midwesterners - we wait and wait and wait for that whistle... And it's ALWAYS worth the wait....
The whistle. Recess (and this blog) is over. Last one in line gets a demerit. Whistle, and whistling very much is a happy thing. Honest, I ain't braggin'. Just happy... so... I whistle. Life's a good blow. Love, Victurd.
Circa, I ain't sure how many years ago. Pretty certain it was my friend Rick Holman's father who asked it... And of course, the answer was a wonderful Vess Orange Soda. Rick's dad was nice enough to help some of us recovering from an airline going belly up – and I was a temporary “hod carrier” - those jobs had personality, and I was extremely thankful he'd bailed me/us out... Thirsty? Just Whistle!
Victor, howinthehell do u pick these topics
(and mebbe whyinthehell too)? You mean like “whistle?” Yes, like whistle. This will come as no shock to those that frequent “The Dish” pizza (and bar) joint.. .but... I have somewhat of an addictive behavior pattern, and onea those patterns is whistling.
I do it constantly at work. If I'm standing, walking, I'm whistling. Undecided if it's “see the funny little clown”: No one knows he's crying, no one knows he's dying on the inside, cause he's laughing (whistling) on the outside.. mmmmmm” OR... that I really am happy, enjoy every moment.. and simply whistle. I'd like to think the latter.
Onea my addictions this morning led me to the breakroom to partake in an 85-cent packa chocolate donuts, and a 65 cent bag of BBQ Fritos (this is a recording). As I entered (whilst whistling something) I hear “I bet I know who that is”... swung door open, “Yep, toldya.” So, a good thing whistling is. Identifiable. Up. Fun. Happy. Braggadocios? Quoting my wonderful stepson “Not no's but hells no's”.. Walking silently taint fun. Adding a whistle along the way helps. Mebbe makes one think of a happy Grandpa. (Victor, u dumbass, you are that.) SEE? Toldya!
Whistling, as in refereeing. My buddy and I do 1st/2nd grade basketball. Ya blow the whistle for a violation, and heck, the kids just ain't that far removed from “Johnnie Jump-ups” but all they know whistle means stop, so they do. The dads (some, not all) think you blow the whistle too much, or not enough, or at the wrong time, or for the wrong reason.
(Side note: nothing to do with whistling. For simplification, the five kids on each team wear different colored wristbands.. 5 colors total.. and the “red guy” guards the corresponding “red guy” on the other team, and blue/blue, green/green, yada/yada. Occasionally, onea the good/smart players will leave the blue guy he is guarding, and attempt to steal the ball from yellow guy. A no-no. As I wander around at age fitty-something, I've seen/heard the AGE DISCRIMINATION thingy. This years coaches, cool dudes. Not-so-much last year. One of the wet-behind-the-ears (sorry, I know judgmental) coaches hollered out “Can you even SEE the colors?”) Come to think of it, I guess that was kinda-sorta related to whistle, 'cause I damn near swallowed mine in laughter when he said that.
Clean as a whistle.... Not worth a whistle... Whistle down the wind... Whistle for it.. You ain't justa whistling Dixie... Whistle while you work... Wet your whistle... Calling a dog... A cop, stopping traffic... The “it's lunchtime” whistle... The Choo choo train's warning prior to an intersection.. Whistler's mother.. Whistleblowers...
In music...... Me and Julio down by the schoolyard... Centerfold.. Sittin' on the dock of the Bay... The Good, the Bad, the Ugly.. and (I'm old) my alltime fav “"The Bridge On The River Kwai"
And........ drum roll........... SPRING! I swear I've heard the kinda whistles from birds that ain't supposed to be back here yet. SWEET TWEETS! For us Midwesterners - we wait and wait and wait for that whistle... And it's ALWAYS worth the wait....
The whistle. Recess (and this blog) is over. Last one in line gets a demerit. Whistle, and whistling very much is a happy thing. Honest, I ain't braggin'. Just happy... so... I whistle. Life's a good blow. Love, Victurd.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Of turds, connotations and rivalries…..
This message will self destruct in two minutes. I have asked the Facebook leaders to not allow ‘copy and paste’..
I have THE utmost respect for all things the University of Kansas. In fact, I recently learned the very first collegiate basketball game in the (Great) State of Missouri was played at my alma mater, William Jewell College. Jewell lost to KU, something like 12 to 3. Know who KU’s coach was? Yep, one James Naismith.
Glenn Cunningham, I mean let’s be for real.. a more inspirational story? Wilt the Stilt, in my own mind, THE BEST ever, the most dominating, the “comes along once in a lifetime” thingy…
Gale Sayers... the Kansas Comet.. Best ever? Mebbe....
Jim Ryan. I lived Jim Ryan. He ran “for us”, yes, yes he did. (In addition to the University of Kansas)…
And of course “The Program.” Storied. Hell, invented there. Year after year of Top Ten finishes, and yes, National Championships… First coaching clinic I ever attended, Lawrence, KS. Respected.
On toppa all that, I will forever be loyal to Missouri. The rivalry begs for that. The rivalry is wonderful.
Why? It ain’t life or death… Why? WHY THEN VICTOR, do you get behind the keyboard, you, YOU with your “no conference victories on the road” and bash ‘us’ when we hit the occasional and rare ‘pothole’? Cause it’s fun. Gets under your skin. Many, many, many a good friend, KU fans. A few KU fans, (please note I said a few, not most, or necessarily you) extremely, EXTREMELY arrogant. Sorry, they are. (That, oh, and a few beers led me there)..
Turds. An inside joke I picked up on – but… also mindful of the arrogant ones (not most, but a few, and not you) who think “It doesn’t stink.”.. So.. when skid marks happen, I gots to remind. It does stink.
But.. butt... unlike Roy, I'm staying forever...
Presently we sit in 5th place. Loyal. I is. I wouldn’t trade the record, the history, the gym, the names, the anything to be in your place.
HOORAY, HURRAH, MIZZOU, MIZZOU!
HOORAY, HURRAH, MIZZOU, MIZZOU!
HOORAY, HURRAH, AND A BULLY FOR OLD MIZZOU,
RAH! RAH! RAH! RAH!
MIZZOU-RAH! MIZZOU-RAH! MIZZOU-RAH, TIGERS!
Love, vicTURD
I have THE utmost respect for all things the University of Kansas. In fact, I recently learned the very first collegiate basketball game in the (Great) State of Missouri was played at my alma mater, William Jewell College. Jewell lost to KU, something like 12 to 3. Know who KU’s coach was? Yep, one James Naismith.
Glenn Cunningham, I mean let’s be for real.. a more inspirational story? Wilt the Stilt, in my own mind, THE BEST ever, the most dominating, the “comes along once in a lifetime” thingy…
Gale Sayers... the Kansas Comet.. Best ever? Mebbe....
Jim Ryan. I lived Jim Ryan. He ran “for us”, yes, yes he did. (In addition to the University of Kansas)…
And of course “The Program.” Storied. Hell, invented there. Year after year of Top Ten finishes, and yes, National Championships… First coaching clinic I ever attended, Lawrence, KS. Respected.
On toppa all that, I will forever be loyal to Missouri. The rivalry begs for that. The rivalry is wonderful.
Why? It ain’t life or death… Why? WHY THEN VICTOR, do you get behind the keyboard, you, YOU with your “no conference victories on the road” and bash ‘us’ when we hit the occasional and rare ‘pothole’? Cause it’s fun. Gets under your skin. Many, many, many a good friend, KU fans. A few KU fans, (please note I said a few, not most, or necessarily you) extremely, EXTREMELY arrogant. Sorry, they are. (That, oh, and a few beers led me there)..
Turds. An inside joke I picked up on – but… also mindful of the arrogant ones (not most, but a few, and not you) who think “It doesn’t stink.”.. So.. when skid marks happen, I gots to remind. It does stink.
But.. butt... unlike Roy, I'm staying forever...
Presently we sit in 5th place. Loyal. I is. I wouldn’t trade the record, the history, the gym, the names, the anything to be in your place.
HOORAY, HURRAH, MIZZOU, MIZZOU!
HOORAY, HURRAH, MIZZOU, MIZZOU!
HOORAY, HURRAH, AND A BULLY FOR OLD MIZZOU,
RAH! RAH! RAH! RAH!
MIZZOU-RAH! MIZZOU-RAH! MIZZOU-RAH, TIGERS!
Love, vicTURD
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Mebbe the greatest word ever....
Ok, sure... You're curious. I'm curious. And you were thinking? Love? Peace? Family? Emotion? Devotion? ButterBrickleIceCream? Sex? (Pervert!)
I was thinking of the word touch. Of course, foremost one thinks of the touch between two lovers – and sure, a wonderful thing. (At least I THINK I remember it being so!)... Hands held in walk.. A simple hand on the leg when sitting beside one another.. A soft brushing of the cheeks... OK OK, and the more NC-17 touches, sure.
This grandparent thing has reminded me of another version of touch. Wonder. To lean, to kiss the cheek and see the reaction in the eyes of my granddaughter gives me a feel like no other. MAJOR yanks on the heartstrings.
A fun touch about touch the other day on FB. Proud mama/fellow coworker writing about the results of a recent bath given to her one year old son “So my son discovered his “manhood” in the bath last night... great” !!!!!
Touch is helping someone up off the ground. Opening a door for a stranger to enter first, hand placed upon the shoulder to hopefully nicely welcome them in first. Meeting a friend for a drink, or dinner – catching eyeballs across the room – the handshake/smile, embrace.. simply saying “I like you” without words.
An email in your inbox (or outbox). You were on my brain, thought I'd (touch) write. Clicking the like button on FB, or adding a comment, posting to one's wall. Touch.
Seeing or reading something highly emotional, wonderful – and twenty-five years ago ya mebbe didn't even know how to cry – but now, today, the tears flow so easily. Touched. I am goofy in this manner. Honest, I cry too damned easily, and.. close your ears, I love it. TOUCH = FEEL. Yippee, yahoo, oh baby, oh baby. Come'n git me life, I'm living/loving. Touch. Touched.
A flower. A note. A high five.
Had a shipment at work the other day – a Wednesday.. Import. “Last free day” in the warehouse in New Jersey. LTL carrier summoned in to pickup. Next day “sorry, didn't happen, limited drivers, bad weather too.” So.. Cha-ching check for $180 (storage fees) overnited ($90 for Thursday, $90 for Friday).. Driver sent back in Friday. Learn Monday “well, he was in line.. was gonna be 2 hours.. dispatcher pulled him out.. he went back a few minutes before close.. they wouldn't load him.” Damn daddy. So.. s'more cha-ching. $90 for Saturday. $90 for Sunday. It's Monday, can't get a check to them until Tuesday, so anuther hunnerd and eighty for that. I had eight eyeballs at work looking at me funny. The hell was I to do? To the rescue comes a new coworker. Nice fella named Jay. Walked into my cubicle, announced “Hey Vic, I ran down a broker in NJ, persuaded them to pay on our behalf, AND pickup today" (Monday.) My eyeballs brightened, my smile swiftly came – I put up my hand for a high five – and and even broader smile appeared across his face. Bingo. Friends. “Official – welcome, GLAD you're here!” Later sent him an email with the ending “You da man!”.. Responded, “thanks! Slick Vic!” A simple touch can mean so much.
A recent blog about Liberty, MO "back in the day." Had a comment online “Thanks Vic. I left Liberty 30 years ago and miss being there almost all the time. You talked about people that I haven't thought about in years. Thanks for taking the time to write this blog. Casey Williams”.. Wow – way cool. We each gotta touch outta that Casey – thanks!
We all touch every day – even if no physical contact. We touch or are touched in watching TV, a movie, a phone call, the internet. We 'touch base'. Mebbe kinda-sorta ALMOST as nifty as winging the words “I love you.” (And that in and of itself, is a touch, touching.)
Ok, time to scram. Gotta referee little turds basketball. 1st and 2nd graders. They don't even keep score. Pretty touching to watch the faces of both the kids and the parents. May you enjoy the touch in your life – and the touching of others. It's a good thing, mebbe the greatest word ever. Love, Victurd.
I was thinking of the word touch. Of course, foremost one thinks of the touch between two lovers – and sure, a wonderful thing. (At least I THINK I remember it being so!)... Hands held in walk.. A simple hand on the leg when sitting beside one another.. A soft brushing of the cheeks... OK OK, and the more NC-17 touches, sure.
This grandparent thing has reminded me of another version of touch. Wonder. To lean, to kiss the cheek and see the reaction in the eyes of my granddaughter gives me a feel like no other. MAJOR yanks on the heartstrings.
A fun touch about touch the other day on FB. Proud mama/fellow coworker writing about the results of a recent bath given to her one year old son “So my son discovered his “manhood” in the bath last night... great” !!!!!
Touch is helping someone up off the ground. Opening a door for a stranger to enter first, hand placed upon the shoulder to hopefully nicely welcome them in first. Meeting a friend for a drink, or dinner – catching eyeballs across the room – the handshake/smile, embrace.. simply saying “I like you” without words.
An email in your inbox (or outbox). You were on my brain, thought I'd (touch) write. Clicking the like button on FB, or adding a comment, posting to one's wall. Touch.
Seeing or reading something highly emotional, wonderful – and twenty-five years ago ya mebbe didn't even know how to cry – but now, today, the tears flow so easily. Touched. I am goofy in this manner. Honest, I cry too damned easily, and.. close your ears, I love it. TOUCH = FEEL. Yippee, yahoo, oh baby, oh baby. Come'n git me life, I'm living/loving. Touch. Touched.
A flower. A note. A high five.
Had a shipment at work the other day – a Wednesday.. Import. “Last free day” in the warehouse in New Jersey. LTL carrier summoned in to pickup. Next day “sorry, didn't happen, limited drivers, bad weather too.” So.. Cha-ching check for $180 (storage fees) overnited ($90 for Thursday, $90 for Friday).. Driver sent back in Friday. Learn Monday “well, he was in line.. was gonna be 2 hours.. dispatcher pulled him out.. he went back a few minutes before close.. they wouldn't load him.” Damn daddy. So.. s'more cha-ching. $90 for Saturday. $90 for Sunday. It's Monday, can't get a check to them until Tuesday, so anuther hunnerd and eighty for that. I had eight eyeballs at work looking at me funny. The hell was I to do? To the rescue comes a new coworker. Nice fella named Jay. Walked into my cubicle, announced “Hey Vic, I ran down a broker in NJ, persuaded them to pay on our behalf, AND pickup today" (Monday.) My eyeballs brightened, my smile swiftly came – I put up my hand for a high five – and and even broader smile appeared across his face. Bingo. Friends. “Official – welcome, GLAD you're here!” Later sent him an email with the ending “You da man!”.. Responded, “thanks! Slick Vic!” A simple touch can mean so much.
A recent blog about Liberty, MO "back in the day." Had a comment online “Thanks Vic. I left Liberty 30 years ago and miss being there almost all the time. You talked about people that I haven't thought about in years. Thanks for taking the time to write this blog. Casey Williams”.. Wow – way cool. We each gotta touch outta that Casey – thanks!
We all touch every day – even if no physical contact. We touch or are touched in watching TV, a movie, a phone call, the internet. We 'touch base'. Mebbe kinda-sorta ALMOST as nifty as winging the words “I love you.” (And that in and of itself, is a touch, touching.)
Ok, time to scram. Gotta referee little turds basketball. 1st and 2nd graders. They don't even keep score. Pretty touching to watch the faces of both the kids and the parents. May you enjoy the touch in your life – and the touching of others. It's a good thing, mebbe the greatest word ever. Love, Victurd.
Sunday, February 06, 2011
With Liberty and justice for all.....
I guess with age comes “the want to go back”... in time.. Once upon a time, I abhored ideas like Facebook. Divorced, probably (assuredly) depressed, I'd sat my butt too many damn hours in fronta the monitor..Yahoo.. MSN.. Lycos, a host of goofy dating sites.. MySpace... yada yada... As our recent Class Reunion approached, “join Facebook, our class has a page.” NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!.. I want AWAY from this 'addiction', NOT further attached to it.
So, demonstrating weakness as I've so demonstrated over time, I 'joined'.. Redfacedly, very glad I have. Not only instant connection to “Townies”, but college buds, co-workers (present and former), young, old, and of course, loved ones.
The recent “want to go back” included visiting about our first jobs in Liberty, the pay (or lack thereof)... where we lived in town, who we 'ran' with.. what we did...
In summation, Liberty was a damn fine town to grow up in. Hope it still is (wow, the changes).. I still vividly see China Slaughter directing traffic... Ace Thompson's smile.. Topsy... Atkinson's Cab (mom didn't drive, when dad was outta town and we needed groceries).. Bud “Rack 'em Wiggins” Temple..
Years and years of seeing the Football team ride on the Fire Truck in the Homecoming Parade, hoping one day I could be up there.. . Going to Dairy Queen and running into Bobby Bell and Willie Lanier.. Running across Mill Street after a game at Franklin in effort to be first in line for a mug of wonderful Root Beer...
The stately one way streets.. Blacks, whites, dribbling our basketballs to St James to play together, cohesively, all friends... Coffee shops, folks sat and visited. No cell phones, no pagers, no mini-vans, SUV's... time seemingly went slower... appreciated more? You could ride your bike anywhere in town - and your folks knew you'd be ok. ANYWHERE!
A new slew of college kids every August.. Playing racquetball in old Brown Gym, hearing the light rap on the door.. “Mr. Stram would like to play now.”
Walking from the City Park to Franklin after a ballgame for the carnival. Metal baseball cleats (somehow we survived.) I almost didn't that night. Tilt-A-Whirl. Moisture on the grass. The metal cleats. Metal ramp leading to seats. Not a good mix. As I set foot on the metal ramp – I was brought down to my knees by the force of electricity. Had it not been for the quick switch of ride operator Terrell Morley, I would literally have been toast in milliseconds. (I guess it's true, when being electrocuted, one's hair does strange things... 'cause I remember some little girl exclaiming "LOOK AT VICTOR'S HAIR!)
The Ku Ku.. or Cuckoo, heck I don't remember. Don't shoot me Denny. Denny Ray “borrowing” some gas from the station across the street, honking his way up the hill. Well, most of the way up the hill. Unfortunately, he'd 'borrowed' diesel for his car.
Reverends Link and Houston, Grundy, Naomi, Mrs. Sumpter, Bonita, Mayor Thompson, Mr. Vance, Mr. Gant, Rod White, Mrs. Weakley, Mr. Nail (remember the Rain Dances?).. and certain more, just escapes me now. Town fixtures. Population 8,909. <-- seems like that sign was up forever!
Fun was inexpensive. Toppa the hill by the Methodist Church, getting between the spotlights and the church to form 40' tall shadowed images of ourselves as folks watched from the bottom of the hill. Whiffle ball. Indian Ball. Wonderful interruptions in chasing down the ice cream truck.
Kennedy Pool. The Incident. The Plaza Theater.. Junior Mints and popcorn.. Dances in the Basement of the JC's place... Driving to Antioch to get the most recent “40 Star Survey” and later listening to Johnny Dolan count 'em down. Motown. Woodstock.
We were oblivious to 'class'. We played in basements and backyards of any/everyone. Jeans were patched, sack lunches were carried to school.
I am certain across America, towns equally as fitting, fun in the day. I love life, and have had a wonderful one. We lived in Liberty when I was real young... moved away for a few years.. came back.. (I'll never forget, 2nd grade I think, being a newbie... LeRoy Peters, first one to really talk to me, giving me a piece of blue gum on the playground.. if he only knew how good that made me feel to be kinda-sorta accepted)... 6th grade, father got the itch to move again. Sister, then a sophomore, and much like her brother, very tired of making/leaving new friends.. DUG HER FEET IN. PITCHED HIZZY. Proud to say, thanks to her, still here some 51 years later.
Sentiment, emotion is a wonderful thing. If we didn't feel, the hell's the use in even being here. I'm very sentimental about the town I grew up in. To all of the above who are gone – please rest in peace. (Ace, I've STILL got the oriental lettered ring you gave me in High School!).. To all who are still around, I hope your ride in Liberty has been as fun as mine. Love, Victurd.
So, demonstrating weakness as I've so demonstrated over time, I 'joined'.. Redfacedly, very glad I have. Not only instant connection to “Townies”, but college buds, co-workers (present and former), young, old, and of course, loved ones.
The recent “want to go back” included visiting about our first jobs in Liberty, the pay (or lack thereof)... where we lived in town, who we 'ran' with.. what we did...
In summation, Liberty was a damn fine town to grow up in. Hope it still is (wow, the changes).. I still vividly see China Slaughter directing traffic... Ace Thompson's smile.. Topsy... Atkinson's Cab (mom didn't drive, when dad was outta town and we needed groceries).. Bud “Rack 'em Wiggins” Temple..
Years and years of seeing the Football team ride on the Fire Truck in the Homecoming Parade, hoping one day I could be up there.. . Going to Dairy Queen and running into Bobby Bell and Willie Lanier.. Running across Mill Street after a game at Franklin in effort to be first in line for a mug of wonderful Root Beer...
The stately one way streets.. Blacks, whites, dribbling our basketballs to St James to play together, cohesively, all friends... Coffee shops, folks sat and visited. No cell phones, no pagers, no mini-vans, SUV's... time seemingly went slower... appreciated more? You could ride your bike anywhere in town - and your folks knew you'd be ok. ANYWHERE!
A new slew of college kids every August.. Playing racquetball in old Brown Gym, hearing the light rap on the door.. “Mr. Stram would like to play now.”
Walking from the City Park to Franklin after a ballgame for the carnival. Metal baseball cleats (somehow we survived.) I almost didn't that night. Tilt-A-Whirl. Moisture on the grass. The metal cleats. Metal ramp leading to seats. Not a good mix. As I set foot on the metal ramp – I was brought down to my knees by the force of electricity. Had it not been for the quick switch of ride operator Terrell Morley, I would literally have been toast in milliseconds. (I guess it's true, when being electrocuted, one's hair does strange things... 'cause I remember some little girl exclaiming "LOOK AT VICTOR'S HAIR!)
The Ku Ku.. or Cuckoo, heck I don't remember. Don't shoot me Denny. Denny Ray “borrowing” some gas from the station across the street, honking his way up the hill. Well, most of the way up the hill. Unfortunately, he'd 'borrowed' diesel for his car.
Reverends Link and Houston, Grundy, Naomi, Mrs. Sumpter, Bonita, Mayor Thompson, Mr. Vance, Mr. Gant, Rod White, Mrs. Weakley, Mr. Nail (remember the Rain Dances?).. and certain more, just escapes me now. Town fixtures. Population 8,909. <-- seems like that sign was up forever!
Fun was inexpensive. Toppa the hill by the Methodist Church, getting between the spotlights and the church to form 40' tall shadowed images of ourselves as folks watched from the bottom of the hill. Whiffle ball. Indian Ball. Wonderful interruptions in chasing down the ice cream truck.
Kennedy Pool. The Incident. The Plaza Theater.. Junior Mints and popcorn.. Dances in the Basement of the JC's place... Driving to Antioch to get the most recent “40 Star Survey” and later listening to Johnny Dolan count 'em down. Motown. Woodstock.
We were oblivious to 'class'. We played in basements and backyards of any/everyone. Jeans were patched, sack lunches were carried to school.
I am certain across America, towns equally as fitting, fun in the day. I love life, and have had a wonderful one. We lived in Liberty when I was real young... moved away for a few years.. came back.. (I'll never forget, 2nd grade I think, being a newbie... LeRoy Peters, first one to really talk to me, giving me a piece of blue gum on the playground.. if he only knew how good that made me feel to be kinda-sorta accepted)... 6th grade, father got the itch to move again. Sister, then a sophomore, and much like her brother, very tired of making/leaving new friends.. DUG HER FEET IN. PITCHED HIZZY. Proud to say, thanks to her, still here some 51 years later.
Sentiment, emotion is a wonderful thing. If we didn't feel, the hell's the use in even being here. I'm very sentimental about the town I grew up in. To all of the above who are gone – please rest in peace. (Ace, I've STILL got the oriental lettered ring you gave me in High School!).. To all who are still around, I hope your ride in Liberty has been as fun as mine. Love, Victurd.
Saturday, February 05, 2011
Here in River City...... Two sides to every board...
Trouble, oh we got trouble,
Right here in River City!
With a capital "T"
That rhymes with "P"
And that stands for Pool,
That stands for pool.
We've surely got trouble!
Right here in River City,
Right here!
Gotta figger out a way
To keep the young ones moral after school!
Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble...
Her shoes: You're jealous and controlling.
My shoes: Maybe, but don't you think Girl's Night Out Monday, Wednesday, Friday is a bit much?
(Two sides to every board.)
VICTOR! WHY? WHY display your dirty laundry?
(Two sides to every pair of undies... hehe)
Mothers of River City!
Heed the warning before it's too late!
Watch for the tell-tale sign of corruption!
The moment your son leaves the house,
Does he rebuckle his knickerbockers below the knee?
Is there a nicotine stain on his index finger?
A dime novel hidden in the corn crib?
Is he starting to memorize jokes from Capt.
Billy's Whiz Bang?
Are certain words creeping into his conversation?
Words like 'swell?"
And 'so's your old man?"
Well, if so my friends,
Ya got trouble,
Right here in River city!
With a capital "T"
And that rhymes with "P"
And that stands for Pool.
We've surely got trouble!
Right here in River City!
Remember the Maine, Plymouth Rock and the Golden Rule!
Seems for each and every situation, there are two sides to the board. The view from one's shoes. Sometimes, hard to throw on another's loafer, have it be comfy, and, “get their drift.”
Work, the other day. The blizzard day. One set of shoes: (Noon).. Please go ahead and go home. Don't clock out, we'll take care of it. (Way cool!).. Nuther's shoes: “#%$^)( $&$# IT!” If we woulda waited another hour I don't think I'da made it home!.. Two sides, every board.
She's beautiful. Ewww. He's a great worker. We talking about the same person? I LOVE WINTER! I'da shot Punxsutawney had he seen his shadow. Here, I can tell you need some bucks, take this $20, no repayment. Sorry, I gave at the office, scram kid.
Oh, we've got trouble.
We're in terrible, terrible trouble.
That game with the fifteen numbered balls is a devil's tool!
Oh yes we got trouble, trouble, trouble!
With a "T"! Gotta rhyme it with "P"!
And that stands for Pool!!!
Democrat/Republican. Male/Female. Christianity/Islam. Youth/Adult. Wealthy/Barely make ends meet. Urban/Rural/3rd pair of shoes: Suburban. Moral/Not-so-much. Bud's Pool Hall/River City Moral Majority.. KU/MU.. Green Bay/Da Bears.. Yankees/Red Sox.. Steak and potatos/Vegetarian. NRA/Gun control.. Depressed/Effervescent.. Dr. Phil/Howard Stern. I do/I usedta..
“Entreat me not to leave thee.. or to return from following after thee.. for where thou goest, I will go, and where thou stayeth, I will stay." (Unless I change my shoes.) VICTOR!!!! (hehe, sorry, slipper slipped!)
Opposite makes the world go round. Yes, bouncy, turbulent upon occasion – but if we all thought alike, had the same interests, beliefs, economical status, mindset – that wouldn't be fun.
Victor... kinda getting the drift... But whatinthehell does this song have to do with it?
2 sides to every board!... Quit whining, it's your shot. That's just the way the ball bounces.
Love, Victurd.
Right here in River City!
With a capital "T"
That rhymes with "P"
And that stands for Pool,
That stands for pool.
We've surely got trouble!
Right here in River City,
Right here!
Gotta figger out a way
To keep the young ones moral after school!
Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble...
Her shoes: You're jealous and controlling.
My shoes: Maybe, but don't you think Girl's Night Out Monday, Wednesday, Friday is a bit much?
(Two sides to every board.)
VICTOR! WHY? WHY display your dirty laundry?
(Two sides to every pair of undies... hehe)
Mothers of River City!
Heed the warning before it's too late!
Watch for the tell-tale sign of corruption!
The moment your son leaves the house,
Does he rebuckle his knickerbockers below the knee?
Is there a nicotine stain on his index finger?
A dime novel hidden in the corn crib?
Is he starting to memorize jokes from Capt.
Billy's Whiz Bang?
Are certain words creeping into his conversation?
Words like 'swell?"
And 'so's your old man?"
Well, if so my friends,
Ya got trouble,
Right here in River city!
With a capital "T"
And that rhymes with "P"
And that stands for Pool.
We've surely got trouble!
Right here in River City!
Remember the Maine, Plymouth Rock and the Golden Rule!
Seems for each and every situation, there are two sides to the board. The view from one's shoes. Sometimes, hard to throw on another's loafer, have it be comfy, and, “get their drift.”
Work, the other day. The blizzard day. One set of shoes: (Noon).. Please go ahead and go home. Don't clock out, we'll take care of it. (Way cool!).. Nuther's shoes: “#%$^)( $&$# IT!” If we woulda waited another hour I don't think I'da made it home!.. Two sides, every board.
She's beautiful. Ewww. He's a great worker. We talking about the same person? I LOVE WINTER! I'da shot Punxsutawney had he seen his shadow. Here, I can tell you need some bucks, take this $20, no repayment. Sorry, I gave at the office, scram kid.
Oh, we've got trouble.
We're in terrible, terrible trouble.
That game with the fifteen numbered balls is a devil's tool!
Oh yes we got trouble, trouble, trouble!
With a "T"! Gotta rhyme it with "P"!
And that stands for Pool!!!
Democrat/Republican. Male/Female. Christianity/Islam. Youth/Adult. Wealthy/Barely make ends meet. Urban/Rural/3rd pair of shoes: Suburban. Moral/Not-so-much. Bud's Pool Hall/River City Moral Majority.. KU/MU.. Green Bay/Da Bears.. Yankees/Red Sox.. Steak and potatos/Vegetarian. NRA/Gun control.. Depressed/Effervescent.. Dr. Phil/Howard Stern. I do/I usedta..
“Entreat me not to leave thee.. or to return from following after thee.. for where thou goest, I will go, and where thou stayeth, I will stay." (Unless I change my shoes.) VICTOR!!!! (hehe, sorry, slipper slipped!)
Opposite makes the world go round. Yes, bouncy, turbulent upon occasion – but if we all thought alike, had the same interests, beliefs, economical status, mindset – that wouldn't be fun.
Victor... kinda getting the drift... But whatinthehell does this song have to do with it?
2 sides to every board!... Quit whining, it's your shot. That's just the way the ball bounces.
Love, Victurd.
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