After 26 games of Sudoku, six “no replys” on a goofy online dating site, and 12 games of solitaire – my ashtray was full.. I was outta smokes.. to the car to replentish with my cheesy “I am a po man” pack of Decades. (Symbolic perhaps of this most recent decade.)
1 to 10, hella fun. Nervous days in Elementary school, as we moved 19 times in this period. “Hi, I’m Vic… oops, seeya!”.. Mankind still hadn’t grasped how to be kind to all man.. Rosa, God Bless Rosa, helped. But many, many strides to yet come. Fortunately, we kids were oblivious to color. In some ways, ahead of our time.
Vibrant, youthful, happy parents. The “first crush.” I personally thought Sue Harris was the bomb, ‘cause she could outrun ANYONE in our school, including Stanley Savage. Never told her. I guess that comes with being 10.
11 to 20, ohhhh transformation. Bodies aheada the brain. Tons of sports. Small freedoms early (riding bike anywhere u wanted in town).. large freedoms later.. Old enough to vote, serve our country – but sadly, by that time, not many wanted to. Viet Nam days were waning, yet a Lottery was held to give each birthdate of the year “a number”. Of course, #1 would go first… 365 last. I sweated and sweated and sweated – on my way to #236. Then, Peace happened. Thanks goodness.
High School – ohhhhh High School. It’s a lifelong bond kinda thing. Folks from the same era, the same small town. Trip to Mickey D’s this morning, I see this bright, vibrant smile across the way.. yep, that’s Gale Coe, he always wore that smile. “HI VIC!”.. “HI GALE.”. exchanged pleasantries.. and then upon exit “Is it just me Gale, or does time fly?”.. “Vic, time flies!”.. Nonetheless, catching glimpse of someone who’s shared the same time/same things you have/did, tis special – always will be.
21 to 30. Oh shit, I’m supposed to be an adult. We’ve come to an end of our “twenty years of play” – real life is ahead. Seemingly, every third weekend, another friend’s wedding to attend. Children even popped out.
Playing sports 7 days a week with bonified referees, uniforms, people in the stands – a thing of the past. Now, Sunday nights with buddies/pals. Still competitive, but, opponents shared a beverage after.
Pick a career? I must? How do I know, at age 20-something, how I’ll feel, what I’ll like at age fitty, sixty-something? (I’d list my resume here, but my printer is about outta ink… or… as my wondeful ex father in law termed it “That Victor, he’s a nice, nice man.. just maybe a little occupationally challenged.”!!!!!)
31-40: Parenthood. We’ve become the “Vibrant, youthful, happy parents” that we remember so well in our own household during our youth. Wow, didn’t know how hard, trying they had it. We must monitor/aid in safety, dreams, nurse/doctor, psychologist, chef, “bring home the bacon” literally/figuratively and even refereeing.. AND try to sneak selfish moments of our own time alone. Thank goodness for aunts, uncles, grandparents in allowing those mini-breaks from it all.
It’s routine now. Both the filled up calendar, the drive into the office, the evening family meal, bedtime – and weekends, yippee. We try to emulate our own folks in providing, role modeling – and perhaps a tad harsh on our age group, but those were big shoes to fill. We grew up in a wonderful era/time.
41-Fitty. Kids now becoming the age “Oh shit, I remember what I DID back then… DAMN!”… When you heard the engine start, the car leave the driveway – baby pitter patters of the heart in hopes of the return safely. Hopefully, a good job has been done in guidance, moral education.
What’s that? QUIET? Now whatinthehell do we do? We’ve been runnin’ for twenty years! Wanna slow dance? Make out? Nah, we just did that last week, let’s watch a movie. Ok, suits me. Besides, I’m on edge due to the lackaprogress of the IRA.
Fitty-one to present day. WHEN did I get those wrinkles in my arms that I see when I bend them? I KNOW this is the same damn house, but WHY does it seem so much farther to the damn bathroom? I’ve NEVER hadta run before!
At work, not so fond of when the boss comes around. See those I too was once "a young asskisser” – huh uh, nomme now. Just lemme do my job, and said politely, sir, can you just leave me the hell alone?
Toured The Kansas City Royals Hall of Fame the other day. Groupa mebbe fitty folks, didn’t look much different than myself, and my almost the same age cousin. Halfway thru, Guide starts asking “Who remembers back when(such-n-such) happened?”.. Cousin and I raise hands..look around.. no one else does. This happens, 6, 7 times in a row. It hit me. I’M OLD.
No matter where ya go, there’s younger turds ALL AROUND! They're EVERYWHERE!
Ahhhhhh, the grandkids. Nature does recycle itself, and wonderfully so. What’s that? She won’t stop crying? Ahm, darn, hope she cheers up/feels better SOON.. (SEEYA!)… And we drive away, leaving those vibrant, youthful, happy parents to guide, counsel, nurse, teach.
Aging does have a way of making one ‘appreciate.” I’ve written here before about being old, and onea those townies from the same era will say “VICTOR, YOU’RE NOT OLD!” The hell we ain’t. Fess up! Knowing that “ends one day will happen” actually gives us focus to stop, appreciate things we might notta stopped to appreciate, behold - back in those other decades.
This has been, admittedly, a bit of a trying decade for me, the old “oh crap, I’m single?” fart. Yet, driving to work the other day, heard “it’s official.. the household with two married parents is now in the minority” so methinks I ain’t the only one sailing solo.
61-70, I’ll work on this later, and I promise LARGER FONTS. 71-80, that would be a gift. 81-90, who are you and whyinthehell am I writing you?
Oh crap, I’m outta Decades… to the car for another pack. I hope you’ve had as much fun as I’ve had on this planet. I’ve enjoyed the rollercoasters within each and every decade. Some, sitting side by side with another, some - solo occupant. Life is fun, interesting, trying, engaging, wondrous, rewarding, smile worthy….
At least at this age, we’ve learned pulling ones hair out is of little worth… but then, at this age, we have a reason not to pull out any hair.
Life has truly been a gift. And, each day hereafter is as well.
Happy decades, love Victurd.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
See the funny little clown...
Tears….
God’s way to relieve the pressure.
Happy tears, sad tears, sympathetic tears. Sure, self pity tears.
Control. We all like to be in control, but crying dissuades that. Oft times, crying is hated, a last resort, so so many words said without any exiting the mouth.
Emote. Care. Concern. Worry.
I am finding, as I age, a kinda-sorta ‘return to infancy’ – ie, crying comes so very easy again. Sometimes it’s wonderful, sometimes it sucks – but hey, in the end it helps. Stories, tales, situations invoke tears easier now. We bank our emotions over the years – occasionally become satiated – and then there’s impetus to ‘the pressure valve’ and the pressure is released in the form of tears.
Happy tears. Movies. Seeing a grandkid’s pic. Friends. A loved one. Many precursors to happy tears. Initially, one feels silly – then, as reason logs in, ya turn to thankful – or at least I do. (Merember, I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome.)
Self pity. Sure, been there, cried that. Again, ya hide from mirrors, people in these times… feel foolish after.. but, it lends a fair hand connecting the next step – build me up buttercup.
I can’t imagine a life without emotion. Those you see that seemingly are this way – ya wonder “do you think they cry?”… or… “Do you think they care (about people, friends, family, THEMSELVES?”
I am man, hear me roar: I ain’tashamed of crying. I’m glad I do/can/have/will. What better than “feel”? Perhaps the reason behind the phrase “going to go have a good cry.”
My beautiful granddaughter Aubrie Rose… Every day at work, I flip my computer on – forget she’s my smiling screen saver – and there’s a moment of awe, always complete with a tummy yank, and yes, sometimes a tear.
She sees me quite a few times a week, but, at just under 5 months old, she’s still yet to figure out just who this grandpa feller is. I will hold her. Dote. Coo. Sing. For the first 60 to 90 seconds, I’m kinda entertaining… then… that bottom lip puckers up, without saying she says “PLEASE mister, give me back to my mommy or my daddy”, and then the tears flow. A millisecond I’m sad, then – I’m reminded, aha, they treat her well, love her so, have gained her trust. Way cool.
When I hear friends gripe, groan, type their woes on Facebook, I’ll occasionally type “crybaby.” Teasingly, lovingly. Truth is though, it’s me that’s a crybaby – but ya know what? I could give a rats what others think about that – for crying covers so many realms, emotions, past/present/future/those missing-no longer with us….. I’m happy I cry.
Love, Victeared.
God’s way to relieve the pressure.
Happy tears, sad tears, sympathetic tears. Sure, self pity tears.
Control. We all like to be in control, but crying dissuades that. Oft times, crying is hated, a last resort, so so many words said without any exiting the mouth.
Emote. Care. Concern. Worry.
I am finding, as I age, a kinda-sorta ‘return to infancy’ – ie, crying comes so very easy again. Sometimes it’s wonderful, sometimes it sucks – but hey, in the end it helps. Stories, tales, situations invoke tears easier now. We bank our emotions over the years – occasionally become satiated – and then there’s impetus to ‘the pressure valve’ and the pressure is released in the form of tears.
Happy tears. Movies. Seeing a grandkid’s pic. Friends. A loved one. Many precursors to happy tears. Initially, one feels silly – then, as reason logs in, ya turn to thankful – or at least I do. (Merember, I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome.)
Self pity. Sure, been there, cried that. Again, ya hide from mirrors, people in these times… feel foolish after.. but, it lends a fair hand connecting the next step – build me up buttercup.
I can’t imagine a life without emotion. Those you see that seemingly are this way – ya wonder “do you think they cry?”… or… “Do you think they care (about people, friends, family, THEMSELVES?”
I am man, hear me roar: I ain’tashamed of crying. I’m glad I do/can/have/will. What better than “feel”? Perhaps the reason behind the phrase “going to go have a good cry.”
My beautiful granddaughter Aubrie Rose… Every day at work, I flip my computer on – forget she’s my smiling screen saver – and there’s a moment of awe, always complete with a tummy yank, and yes, sometimes a tear.
She sees me quite a few times a week, but, at just under 5 months old, she’s still yet to figure out just who this grandpa feller is. I will hold her. Dote. Coo. Sing. For the first 60 to 90 seconds, I’m kinda entertaining… then… that bottom lip puckers up, without saying she says “PLEASE mister, give me back to my mommy or my daddy”, and then the tears flow. A millisecond I’m sad, then – I’m reminded, aha, they treat her well, love her so, have gained her trust. Way cool.
When I hear friends gripe, groan, type their woes on Facebook, I’ll occasionally type “crybaby.” Teasingly, lovingly. Truth is though, it’s me that’s a crybaby – but ya know what? I could give a rats what others think about that – for crying covers so many realms, emotions, past/present/future/those missing-no longer with us….. I’m happy I cry.
Love, Victeared.
Friday, May 20, 2011
"Slow Dance"... This poem was written by a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital.
SLOW DANCE
Have you ever watched kids
on a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rain slapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
You better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Do you run through each day on the fly?
When you ask “How are you?” Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done do you lie in your bed with the next hundred chores running through your head?
You'd better slow down - Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Ever told your child, “We'll do it tomorrow?” And in your haste, not see
his sorrow?
Ever lost touch, let a good friendship die cause you never had time to call
and say,'Hi'?
You'd better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last..
When you run so fast to get somewhere you miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day, it is like an unopened gift.... thrown away.
Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over.
Have you ever watched kids
on a merry-go-round?
Or listened to the rain slapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight?
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
You better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Do you run through each day on the fly?
When you ask “How are you?” Do you hear the reply?
When the day is done do you lie in your bed with the next hundred chores running through your head?
You'd better slow down - Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last.
Ever told your child, “We'll do it tomorrow?” And in your haste, not see
his sorrow?
Ever lost touch, let a good friendship die cause you never had time to call
and say,'Hi'?
You'd better slow down.
Don't dance so fast.
Time is short.
The music won't last..
When you run so fast to get somewhere you miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day, it is like an unopened gift.... thrown away.
Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Eye can see clearly now….
I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.
Four years ago… eye docs office.. I’ve told this before, apologies. As one ages, they repeat things. I’ve told this before, apologies.
Four years ago, eye docs office… 30 minutes of close scrutinizing into my eyeballs. (My first EVER trip to eye doc)… Finally… “how old are you?”.. “Fitty-four”…. “You’ve got cataracts in both eyes.”… so, surgery, awesome results… one ‘fake lens’ the UP CLOSE kind.. ONE, the distance KIND. I threw away literally 7 pairs of Dollar Store “readers”, HELLO newspaper, HELLO PC, I CAN SEE YOU AGAIN, as in miracle.
Today, Wiki’ed “problems after cataract surgery.” Sometimes they come back, I found. Oh shit. Eyesight is precious. Wonderful. A gift. I don’t wanna lose it. That got me to thinking, what else in life don’t I ever wanna be without?
I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I’ve been prayin - for
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.
I don’t wanna be without those 4 little fingers and thumb that wrap around ONE knuckle and melt my heart like no other gal EVER has. (My 4 month old granddaughter Aubrie).. and of course, son, Mika, and for that matter – all my kin…
Look all around, there’s nothin -but blue skies
Look straight ahead, nothin -but blue skies
Coffee… That cig that simply tastes the best. Music. Baseball (Ray).. The Chiefs.. my buddies… Softball (Scroll to “oh shit, surgery again”).. laughter, banter, tease.. email… Facebook… people my age… people younger, and God Bless – people older….
I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Heat in the winter, fan in the summer (ok, sometimes the AC, mostly fan.. .could live without AC).. My car… The News on TV (Victor, this is getting boring)… A sense of humor… picking out a beloved coworker or a friend and winging a compliment about them infronta as large a crowd as I can muster – cause I LOVE LOVE LOVE good people feeling good about themselves.
Hamburgers/Cheeseburgers (Beggars/choosers, the bowling alley “300 burger”… to die for)… Memories of yesterday… Simple stuff that looms SO large: smiles.. meeting face to face with a recognized one, and that smile (or “hey”) that follows… forwarding an email that ‘bout made me pee my pants in laughter.. Keeping/knowing the revelation “some folks just don’t enjoy life” THUS IMMERSE YOURSELF IN/WITH/LOVE THE ONES THAT DO. I swear smiles light walkways.
Choice. Opting here for choosing good, as in “life is pretty damn good.” I wanna hang, rub shoulders, befriend, KEEP as friend, those that choose thataway.
I… me… me of the 1.65 Maryville first year of college GPA… the C-/D+ guy from Karston’s 7th grade science class.. the feller whose perhaps best friggin SIX years of my life were in the undergraduate world, AM A SIMPLETON. That said, little things seemingly (and do) loom large.
Eye can see clearly now. (And hope to even better after eyeball surgery numero dos.) Keep loving life – I do, love Victurd.
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.
Four years ago… eye docs office.. I’ve told this before, apologies. As one ages, they repeat things. I’ve told this before, apologies.
Four years ago, eye docs office… 30 minutes of close scrutinizing into my eyeballs. (My first EVER trip to eye doc)… Finally… “how old are you?”.. “Fitty-four”…. “You’ve got cataracts in both eyes.”… so, surgery, awesome results… one ‘fake lens’ the UP CLOSE kind.. ONE, the distance KIND. I threw away literally 7 pairs of Dollar Store “readers”, HELLO newspaper, HELLO PC, I CAN SEE YOU AGAIN, as in miracle.
Today, Wiki’ed “problems after cataract surgery.” Sometimes they come back, I found. Oh shit. Eyesight is precious. Wonderful. A gift. I don’t wanna lose it. That got me to thinking, what else in life don’t I ever wanna be without?
I think I can make it now, the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is the rainbow I’ve been prayin - for
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Sun-Shiny day.
I don’t wanna be without those 4 little fingers and thumb that wrap around ONE knuckle and melt my heart like no other gal EVER has. (My 4 month old granddaughter Aubrie).. and of course, son, Mika, and for that matter – all my kin…
Look all around, there’s nothin -but blue skies
Look straight ahead, nothin -but blue skies
Coffee… That cig that simply tastes the best. Music. Baseball (Ray).. The Chiefs.. my buddies… Softball (Scroll to “oh shit, surgery again”).. laughter, banter, tease.. email… Facebook… people my age… people younger, and God Bless – people older….
I can see clearly now, the rain is gone,
I can see all obstacles in my way
Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind
It’s gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright)
Heat in the winter, fan in the summer (ok, sometimes the AC, mostly fan.. .could live without AC).. My car… The News on TV (Victor, this is getting boring)… A sense of humor… picking out a beloved coworker or a friend and winging a compliment about them infronta as large a crowd as I can muster – cause I LOVE LOVE LOVE good people feeling good about themselves.
Hamburgers/Cheeseburgers (Beggars/choosers, the bowling alley “300 burger”… to die for)… Memories of yesterday… Simple stuff that looms SO large: smiles.. meeting face to face with a recognized one, and that smile (or “hey”) that follows… forwarding an email that ‘bout made me pee my pants in laughter.. Keeping/knowing the revelation “some folks just don’t enjoy life” THUS IMMERSE YOURSELF IN/WITH/LOVE THE ONES THAT DO. I swear smiles light walkways.
Choice. Opting here for choosing good, as in “life is pretty damn good.” I wanna hang, rub shoulders, befriend, KEEP as friend, those that choose thataway.
I… me… me of the 1.65 Maryville first year of college GPA… the C-/D+ guy from Karston’s 7th grade science class.. the feller whose perhaps best friggin SIX years of my life were in the undergraduate world, AM A SIMPLETON. That said, little things seemingly (and do) loom large.
Eye can see clearly now. (And hope to even better after eyeball surgery numero dos.) Keep loving life – I do, love Victurd.
Sunday, May 15, 2011
So I Googled “Things to do when you are bored.”
My house is staring at me. It wants/begs attention. I don’t wanna. Tomorrow. I’ll get to that tomorrow. My belly juts out, pleading “Victor, make me like I was back in 1970” -> I ain’t got the energy. So I went to stupid online dating website, where there is actually a place where you can ‘chat’ with other singles.. the ones I tried musta had very good eyesight, they didn’t wanna.
So, some’a the crap Google suggested:
“Give your cat a mohawk.” “Setup your Christmas Tree in May.” “Serve ping pong balls as hors d’oeuvres.” “Have a formal dinner at White Castle.” “Flash your goldfish.” “Balance a pencil on your nose.” “Program the courthouse clock to play Dueling Banjos at the top of every hour.”
And of course, remembering back to the day where I/we actually admitted I/we was/were simpletons/bored:
Out and about on a Saturday night. Had’a buddy, whom we’d asked “wanna go too”..”Nah, thanks, you guys go ahead.”.. so we did… we ‘borrowed’ 132 real estate “For Sale” signs, and plastered them in his front yard after dark.
Putting a poo-poo cushion in Naomi Johnson’s chair.
Affixing a Playboy foldout out to the roll down map of the United States in Naomi Johnson’s class. (I dunno why we always picked on her… nice lady.. mebbe that’s why we did!)
Super gluing the plates, silverware to the tables at Miller’s Diner…
Await a friend finally falling asleep, shave his left eyebrow off.
12 Sigma Nu’s. Carry Dr. Mathis’s VW up to “The Quad”….
Then… I found a (close your ears) “Do gooders” site with suggestions:
Hangout with old people. They have great stories and sometimes need the company.(Nah, I do that a couple three times a week with Tom/Clay already.)
Perform random acts of kindness. (I will…………….. tomorrow.)
Try brewing your own beer. Or make your own wine. (Jualah! I likes!)
Start a blog. (Nah, I suck at writing.)
THERE! I did it. The above got me from 8:14am to 9:53am. My once almost empty ashtray is overflowing. It’s only 5 hours now until softball practice. The bastards, had it last week too and I was unaware. Without saying so – me thinks “Victor, face it… you’re fitty-eight, you’ve had cataract surgery for behoogity sakes.. wanna coach first? Maybe keep score?”.. hehe.. and I just might do that…
Such is the life, the light, the way – of being an old, single bored fart. “Getting outta the batter’s box” (both figuratively and literally) becoming more difficult. I will though, I promise.
Tomorrow. Love, Victurd.
So, some’a the crap Google suggested:
“Give your cat a mohawk.” “Setup your Christmas Tree in May.” “Serve ping pong balls as hors d’oeuvres.” “Have a formal dinner at White Castle.” “Flash your goldfish.” “Balance a pencil on your nose.” “Program the courthouse clock to play Dueling Banjos at the top of every hour.”
And of course, remembering back to the day where I/we actually admitted I/we was/were simpletons/bored:
Out and about on a Saturday night. Had’a buddy, whom we’d asked “wanna go too”..”Nah, thanks, you guys go ahead.”.. so we did… we ‘borrowed’ 132 real estate “For Sale” signs, and plastered them in his front yard after dark.
Putting a poo-poo cushion in Naomi Johnson’s chair.
Affixing a Playboy foldout out to the roll down map of the United States in Naomi Johnson’s class. (I dunno why we always picked on her… nice lady.. mebbe that’s why we did!)
Super gluing the plates, silverware to the tables at Miller’s Diner…
Await a friend finally falling asleep, shave his left eyebrow off.
12 Sigma Nu’s. Carry Dr. Mathis’s VW up to “The Quad”….
Then… I found a (close your ears) “Do gooders” site with suggestions:
Hangout with old people. They have great stories and sometimes need the company.(Nah, I do that a couple three times a week with Tom/Clay already.)
Perform random acts of kindness. (I will…………….. tomorrow.)
Try brewing your own beer. Or make your own wine. (Jualah! I likes!)
Start a blog. (Nah, I suck at writing.)
THERE! I did it. The above got me from 8:14am to 9:53am. My once almost empty ashtray is overflowing. It’s only 5 hours now until softball practice. The bastards, had it last week too and I was unaware. Without saying so – me thinks “Victor, face it… you’re fitty-eight, you’ve had cataract surgery for behoogity sakes.. wanna coach first? Maybe keep score?”.. hehe.. and I just might do that…
Such is the life, the light, the way – of being an old, single bored fart. “Getting outta the batter’s box” (both figuratively and literally) becoming more difficult. I will though, I promise.
Tomorrow. Love, Victurd.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
A preachment, dear friend
You are about to receive on John Barleycorn
Nicotine and the temptations of Eve
No, not really, ‘cause if God were umpiring and had an ‘indicator’ (the little thingy umpires click to keep tracka strikes/balls) I’d have three strikes on the above.
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
Actually, my $29.95 Norelco portable razor purchased in 1998 STILL works quite well tyvm, and water does drip at my house – I’ll fix it later. This/that was a recording.
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
Usedta do that (hang by knees).. me thinks the already red-faced me would become carmine if I again did that… and… the biologics of my body have changed a bit over the years – not so certain the knees could persist in keeping my belly from visiting the ground.
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
I usedta could do that (walk on hands) but scroll to just above paragraph. Boy Scout? Ha! Whilst wholesome family, we really never attended church. To make the move from Cub Scout to Boy Scout, I hadta get with local Pastor, donate so-many hours in whatever needs the church grounds might have, get his signature……. I chickened out/dropped out.
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.
Open mind – I try to do that. Slip sometimes. WHAT? You’re getting MY (4 month old) granddaughter’s ears pierced? (Oops,sorry, slipped)…
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
Scroll to leak above, sometimes does rain inside. I’ll fix that. Sometime. I would neva-eva eat a Reuben with sauerkraut even though my name (Trivial Pursuit tells me) is THE most common German surname. Schultz is like Smith there I reckon. Patooey, no sauerkraut for me, sorry.
Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
I do like this nonsensical song. I do like fun. I don’t mind making an idiot of myself here – the hell, life’s for living, ya don’t like this – pass me on by – hell, two have chewed me up, spit me out.. aNd I’m StIlL dOiNg Ok, HaSn’T aFfEcTeD mE. (oR iS tHaT ‘EfFeCt’, get them two mixed up)..
The gist, to me anyways, go… do….. live.. don’t have regrets.. allow your own mind to be the best judge of you…. Smile.. speak (attempting to draw smile from another’s face).. compliment.. praise.. love… share… join in… mebbe stupidly, onea my biggest goals in life is simply to have been liked as a person. If I were to walk away, keel, disappear, ne’er e’er to return – it’s my greatest hope “I liked that guy” would run thru the brains of those I’ve come across.
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
Love, Victurd.
Nicotine and the temptations of Eve
No, not really, ‘cause if God were umpiring and had an ‘indicator’ (the little thingy umpires click to keep tracka strikes/balls) I’d have three strikes on the above.
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
Actually, my $29.95 Norelco portable razor purchased in 1998 STILL works quite well tyvm, and water does drip at my house – I’ll fix it later. This/that was a recording.
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
Usedta do that (hang by knees).. me thinks the already red-faced me would become carmine if I again did that… and… the biologics of my body have changed a bit over the years – not so certain the knees could persist in keeping my belly from visiting the ground.
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
I usedta could do that (walk on hands) but scroll to just above paragraph. Boy Scout? Ha! Whilst wholesome family, we really never attended church. To make the move from Cub Scout to Boy Scout, I hadta get with local Pastor, donate so-many hours in whatever needs the church grounds might have, get his signature……. I chickened out/dropped out.
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.
Open mind – I try to do that. Slip sometimes. WHAT? You’re getting MY (4 month old) granddaughter’s ears pierced? (Oops,sorry, slipped)…
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
Scroll to leak above, sometimes does rain inside. I’ll fix that. Sometime. I would neva-eva eat a Reuben with sauerkraut even though my name (Trivial Pursuit tells me) is THE most common German surname. Schultz is like Smith there I reckon. Patooey, no sauerkraut for me, sorry.
Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
I do like this nonsensical song. I do like fun. I don’t mind making an idiot of myself here – the hell, life’s for living, ya don’t like this – pass me on by – hell, two have chewed me up, spit me out.. aNd I’m StIlL dOiNg Ok, HaSn’T aFfEcTeD mE. (oR iS tHaT ‘EfFeCt’, get them two mixed up)..
The gist, to me anyways, go… do….. live.. don’t have regrets.. allow your own mind to be the best judge of you…. Smile.. speak (attempting to draw smile from another’s face).. compliment.. praise.. love… share… join in… mebbe stupidly, onea my biggest goals in life is simply to have been liked as a person. If I were to walk away, keel, disappear, ne’er e’er to return – it’s my greatest hope “I liked that guy” would run thru the brains of those I’ve come across.
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
Love, Victurd.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
The drop of a hat….
Dunno about you – but in this whimsical, topsy-turvy thing called life – respites of “no feel” exhibited, felt, demonstrated, lived, abhorred. I will admit to being a humongous glob of yuck following “D #2”.. (the last lady, of some 20+ years)…
Kinda reminded of the high dive at the ole JFK swimming pool. Ya know – ya jump off from a hella high height, your feet hit the water – hurts a tad simply due to the force – and you go down, down, down… for a brief moment, you wonder if you’ll ever surface again (and mebbe sometimes seemingly not caring if you don’t)..
Then – when you reach that very low point – it hits home “this ain’t where I wanna be” and your hands flail, beg, push, pull – ultimately rising, reaching the surface again. There, you smile, peruse, you realize, hells bells, there’s other gals in nifty bikini’s – I see the sun.. I’m breathing, safe, walking, seemingly Ok, life – it ain’t bad after all.
I dunno if it’s age, wimpiness, faint heart or what – but I get hella emotional any more over the least little thing. This morning, going thru the obits, too damn many bright, shining, youthful faces. WHY? Without knowing any of them – I clammed up, felt that little tinge run from my belly to my face…
Happy. Happy brings out life’s emoticons. Doesn’t have to be witnessing, observing someone I know.. I guess I’ve always been a tad on the sentimental side – but me, this age – it’s different. I think to myself “I should HATE this, being so easily stirred” – but I don’t. I rejoice in it. I guess I’m kinda reminded of a 25 year old clothes dryer. When new, whirled, nary a sound. Now, a bit more worse for wear, but happily, noisily, still spinning, whirling - simply appreciative of the "still going."
Victor, you are kinda a dumbass to lay this all out for everyone to see/read. I don’t care. I’ve said five hunnerd times – I write to me, hitchhikers welcome. And.. I bet, of the three or four that might stumble by here – there are others who are easily emoted – and they don’t mind it one little bit.
To feel is a wonderful thing – I vote rejoice in it. Thankful for it. Blessed to be it.
Another thing I noticed (scroll to “dumbass to lay this all out”)… I’ll pretty much say what I think now. Compliments, previously stowed away, now surface with ease. No intent ever to hurt – but the words flow more easily. If I see friend and they look good, I let ‘em know. No intent other than to let ‘em know. If I see something/someone doing/having something I like – I say so. Them thoughts usedta be in the belly (I guess) and would have trouble zipping up to the brain, and down thru the mouth. Not so any more. Live. Love. Like. Say. Do. Breathe.
You a grandparent? Ohhhhh my.. To catch eyeballs with my lovely 4+ month old g-baby, see her wing me a smile.. makes me feel like Superman with Kryptonite. Allofasudden I could give a rats about my leaky roof, the right rear tire that needs air daily, the occasional "more month than money"... It is a feel, after fitty-eight years, I am so wonderfuly thankful to elicit. YAY Aubrie Rose! LOVEYA!
Distaste? Oh sure. Who doesn’t see/hear things that makeya wanna upchuck. THAT’s when I allow my thoughts to gurgle/stay down in the belly – never surface. That’s when I turn the other direction, get the hell away, “don’t wanna be here, hear this”.. and I do. Am I painting myself “better than thou”?.. Quoting my wonderful stepson “Not no’s but hells no’s”…
I recently wrote something on Mother’s Day on Facebook about the passing of my mother some 25 years ago.. did so simply because I think of her every day.. I got the most wonderful email from a guy a few classes aheada me in school.. He admitted to tearing up as he read this posting. His email meant TONS to me – and simply reinforced, this is a great age.. a great time of life.. and way, way, way AOK to show, say, feel, cry, love, smile – use that damn ticker before it eventually gets too many miles on it and shoots crap.
Happy day. May you have a good cry. A good smile. Wing a comp to a buddy. Look in the mirror and appreciate that those lines are thankfully from smiling over the years. Love, Victurd.
Kinda reminded of the high dive at the ole JFK swimming pool. Ya know – ya jump off from a hella high height, your feet hit the water – hurts a tad simply due to the force – and you go down, down, down… for a brief moment, you wonder if you’ll ever surface again (and mebbe sometimes seemingly not caring if you don’t)..
Then – when you reach that very low point – it hits home “this ain’t where I wanna be” and your hands flail, beg, push, pull – ultimately rising, reaching the surface again. There, you smile, peruse, you realize, hells bells, there’s other gals in nifty bikini’s – I see the sun.. I’m breathing, safe, walking, seemingly Ok, life – it ain’t bad after all.
I dunno if it’s age, wimpiness, faint heart or what – but I get hella emotional any more over the least little thing. This morning, going thru the obits, too damn many bright, shining, youthful faces. WHY? Without knowing any of them – I clammed up, felt that little tinge run from my belly to my face…
Happy. Happy brings out life’s emoticons. Doesn’t have to be witnessing, observing someone I know.. I guess I’ve always been a tad on the sentimental side – but me, this age – it’s different. I think to myself “I should HATE this, being so easily stirred” – but I don’t. I rejoice in it. I guess I’m kinda reminded of a 25 year old clothes dryer. When new, whirled, nary a sound. Now, a bit more worse for wear, but happily, noisily, still spinning, whirling - simply appreciative of the "still going."
Victor, you are kinda a dumbass to lay this all out for everyone to see/read. I don’t care. I’ve said five hunnerd times – I write to me, hitchhikers welcome. And.. I bet, of the three or four that might stumble by here – there are others who are easily emoted – and they don’t mind it one little bit.
To feel is a wonderful thing – I vote rejoice in it. Thankful for it. Blessed to be it.
Another thing I noticed (scroll to “dumbass to lay this all out”)… I’ll pretty much say what I think now. Compliments, previously stowed away, now surface with ease. No intent ever to hurt – but the words flow more easily. If I see friend and they look good, I let ‘em know. No intent other than to let ‘em know. If I see something/someone doing/having something I like – I say so. Them thoughts usedta be in the belly (I guess) and would have trouble zipping up to the brain, and down thru the mouth. Not so any more. Live. Love. Like. Say. Do. Breathe.
You a grandparent? Ohhhhh my.. To catch eyeballs with my lovely 4+ month old g-baby, see her wing me a smile.. makes me feel like Superman with Kryptonite. Allofasudden I could give a rats about my leaky roof, the right rear tire that needs air daily, the occasional "more month than money"... It is a feel, after fitty-eight years, I am so wonderfuly thankful to elicit. YAY Aubrie Rose! LOVEYA!
Distaste? Oh sure. Who doesn’t see/hear things that makeya wanna upchuck. THAT’s when I allow my thoughts to gurgle/stay down in the belly – never surface. That’s when I turn the other direction, get the hell away, “don’t wanna be here, hear this”.. and I do. Am I painting myself “better than thou”?.. Quoting my wonderful stepson “Not no’s but hells no’s”…
I recently wrote something on Mother’s Day on Facebook about the passing of my mother some 25 years ago.. did so simply because I think of her every day.. I got the most wonderful email from a guy a few classes aheada me in school.. He admitted to tearing up as he read this posting. His email meant TONS to me – and simply reinforced, this is a great age.. a great time of life.. and way, way, way AOK to show, say, feel, cry, love, smile – use that damn ticker before it eventually gets too many miles on it and shoots crap.
Happy day. May you have a good cry. A good smile. Wing a comp to a buddy. Look in the mirror and appreciate that those lines are thankfully from smiling over the years. Love, Victurd.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Confidence…
Life is weird. Sometimes I feel like I’m in SUPREME shape, I’ve reached the apex of “the run”.. I’m goin’ downhill now baby, notta damn thing that can stop me!
And… then other times, I have an extremely difficult time concentrating, focusing on the good in me/my world.. and I’m brought to deafening silence (close ur ears, mebbe depressed/depression.) Silence everywhere, but to my brain.
Smiles pump me up, prop me up, and even sometimes, invoke tears. I hate when old folks dote on their grandkids (not really) but doting on my “a bit over 4 month old g-baby”, when she invokes smile – there's notta damn soul on the planet that can budge me from ‘heaven’… I’m truly a sappy person around her. She can do no wrong. She can’t ‘say’ anything, but whenever she finally starts doing so, she will say no wrong.
I am confident in the work I do. I smoke too many damn cigs (they’ve told me that) but whilst so, I fret, turn upside-downside, thinka this carrier, that carrier, all the time constraints involved – and ultimately, I perform – and when I do, it’s with the best interests of the company that feeds me in mind.
When I thinka ‘boy-girl’, me-she, holy crap. I slip into the mole hole. I’ve married, what I believe to have been, two very good persons. (Don’t live in Utah, nope, not at same time.. one 7 yrs.. d’udder a bit over 20 yrs)…
Both ended. Sure, I’ll share some blame. Comprende. But, wanted neither to end. (Both did, and I welled up the 2nd time I’d said “till death do us part” cause I’d already said it).. So…. Tepid.. as I go forward. “Why even do/attempt this again, it will just cause more wrinkles… and Victor, have you seen a mirror lately?”. I know I know.
Then I remember the good times.. The loving times.. The “what it’s like for two peeps to share their day/night/morn/their everything.”
So, I reach hand out. And occasionally, a gal with very poor vision will respond in like. And then I clam up.
I honestly am torn between “I am not so sure I wanna do this shit again, for however many years, and then have it all yanked away – to where I run to Miller Lite, the computer, my buds, anywhere “but there”…
(Continuing on the torn between).. Do you REALLY think it’s possible? Could good be good infinitum? I’ve ‘butchered’ my first two “draft choices” – whythehell would you believe #3 would be any better? Just the statement “#3” carries a stigma. As in ‘eww’.
Then, I see pics of gals, and gals in the flesh and blood – and they exhibit that wonderful, adoring, (“I love life, I’m a very good person, I would NEVER diss you”) smile.. and I melt. We wing wonderfully expectant emails back and forth…
And then I sit back. Yes, no. No, yes. Give it a try. But, whythehellshouldI, u know what will happen. Nostradamus, whyinthehell did u have to die in 1566?
All that said: Victor, you are difficult to live with occasionally, just ask Victor… Why even try again?
Baseball Ray... three strikes and you’re out. Hell, you ain’t so far from Shady Acres, what possible kinda fun could you have tween now and then?
Could you stand one more “seeya later”?
Like sands thru the hourglass, so go the Days of our Lives.. Victor, might I ask.. have you had a beer tonight?
My secret. Happy day, love Victurd, hiccup.
And… then other times, I have an extremely difficult time concentrating, focusing on the good in me/my world.. and I’m brought to deafening silence (close ur ears, mebbe depressed/depression.) Silence everywhere, but to my brain.
Smiles pump me up, prop me up, and even sometimes, invoke tears. I hate when old folks dote on their grandkids (not really) but doting on my “a bit over 4 month old g-baby”, when she invokes smile – there's notta damn soul on the planet that can budge me from ‘heaven’… I’m truly a sappy person around her. She can do no wrong. She can’t ‘say’ anything, but whenever she finally starts doing so, she will say no wrong.
I am confident in the work I do. I smoke too many damn cigs (they’ve told me that) but whilst so, I fret, turn upside-downside, thinka this carrier, that carrier, all the time constraints involved – and ultimately, I perform – and when I do, it’s with the best interests of the company that feeds me in mind.
When I thinka ‘boy-girl’, me-she, holy crap. I slip into the mole hole. I’ve married, what I believe to have been, two very good persons. (Don’t live in Utah, nope, not at same time.. one 7 yrs.. d’udder a bit over 20 yrs)…
Both ended. Sure, I’ll share some blame. Comprende. But, wanted neither to end. (Both did, and I welled up the 2nd time I’d said “till death do us part” cause I’d already said it).. So…. Tepid.. as I go forward. “Why even do/attempt this again, it will just cause more wrinkles… and Victor, have you seen a mirror lately?”. I know I know.
Then I remember the good times.. The loving times.. The “what it’s like for two peeps to share their day/night/morn/their everything.”
So, I reach hand out. And occasionally, a gal with very poor vision will respond in like. And then I clam up.
I honestly am torn between “I am not so sure I wanna do this shit again, for however many years, and then have it all yanked away – to where I run to Miller Lite, the computer, my buds, anywhere “but there”…
(Continuing on the torn between).. Do you REALLY think it’s possible? Could good be good infinitum? I’ve ‘butchered’ my first two “draft choices” – whythehell would you believe #3 would be any better? Just the statement “#3” carries a stigma. As in ‘eww’.
Then, I see pics of gals, and gals in the flesh and blood – and they exhibit that wonderful, adoring, (“I love life, I’m a very good person, I would NEVER diss you”) smile.. and I melt. We wing wonderfully expectant emails back and forth…
And then I sit back. Yes, no. No, yes. Give it a try. But, whythehellshouldI, u know what will happen. Nostradamus, whyinthehell did u have to die in 1566?
All that said: Victor, you are difficult to live with occasionally, just ask Victor… Why even try again?
Baseball Ray... three strikes and you’re out. Hell, you ain’t so far from Shady Acres, what possible kinda fun could you have tween now and then?
Could you stand one more “seeya later”?
Like sands thru the hourglass, so go the Days of our Lives.. Victor, might I ask.. have you had a beer tonight?
My secret. Happy day, love Victurd, hiccup.
Sunday, May 08, 2011
Moms..
Moms hold their breath when YOU cough and don’t let the air out until they’re assured you’ve taken your next breath in.
Moms carry you between their hips for nine months - and then several years after on their hip.
All salesperson's should be a mom, for there is no close match to the empathy they exhibit.
Those first few comfy words from mom, be they in person, by phone or by note - work wonders in calming whatever life’s present woe has lent.
Moms spend but few hours physically delivering one - but a lifetime thereafter delivering love, care, concern.
Moms have an unrivaled resume’: Doctor, chef, psychologist, chauffeur, inventory assistant, personal shopper, “alarm clock”, time management director, peace officer, very fair judge, teacher, advisor, sound (volume) control department, impartial referee, “upright” instructor (both to our physical being and our mental being), bicycle instructor, driver’s training, homework advisor (ne’er giving answer - but assisting in guiding to answer), ‘probation’ officer, climate control, Rand McNally Chief, appointment reminder, moralist, the list could continue into infinity.
This message will self destruct in two minutes. (We men/Dads would be very, very, very lost if it were not for moms. You are the GPS to our existence. You are so, so much more than ‘a person having a baby’. Moms rule, dads drool... Self destructing now, Happy Mother’s Day to all moms.) Love, Victurd.
Moms carry you between their hips for nine months - and then several years after on their hip.
All salesperson's should be a mom, for there is no close match to the empathy they exhibit.
Those first few comfy words from mom, be they in person, by phone or by note - work wonders in calming whatever life’s present woe has lent.
Moms spend but few hours physically delivering one - but a lifetime thereafter delivering love, care, concern.
Moms have an unrivaled resume’: Doctor, chef, psychologist, chauffeur, inventory assistant, personal shopper, “alarm clock”, time management director, peace officer, very fair judge, teacher, advisor, sound (volume) control department, impartial referee, “upright” instructor (both to our physical being and our mental being), bicycle instructor, driver’s training, homework advisor (ne’er giving answer - but assisting in guiding to answer), ‘probation’ officer, climate control, Rand McNally Chief, appointment reminder, moralist, the list could continue into infinity.
This message will self destruct in two minutes. (We men/Dads would be very, very, very lost if it were not for moms. You are the GPS to our existence. You are so, so much more than ‘a person having a baby’. Moms rule, dads drool... Self destructing now, Happy Mother’s Day to all moms.) Love, Victurd.
Saturday, May 07, 2011
As tears go by.....
It is the evening of the day
I sit and watch the children play
Smiling faces I can see
But not for me
I sit and watch
As tears go by
McDonalds, 6:15am.. Miraculously beautiful rainbow cast over the sky.. “The usual” (they don’t even ask any longer, they just ring it in).. short hop to City Park, Liberty, MO - KC Star in hand. I “grew up” here. Played there, worked there, STILL play there. Young punks, obviously first year of baseball, scatter excitedly from their cars to the ballfield. Smiling faces - but not for me… It’s all good.
Article about young phenom just called up to the Royals. Cause for “back in the day” optimism… In fact, mid-way thru the article he started talking about George Brett/Frank White stories - and there I sat, full cycle. Little kids baseball, the good days of the Royals, the (someday) finalization of an old fart’s dream to continue “being a kid.” I actually did kinda tear up.
My riches can't buy everything
I want to hear the children sing
All I hear is the sound
Of rain falling on the ground
I sit and watch
As tears go by
I somewhat jest in saying “I might have Parkinson's.” Jest in that there are no signs.. Ok, one sign.. My father had Parkinson's.. A natural ‘progression’ of Parkinson's is to tear up, well up, be fairly emotional upon little things - or things that yank at yesteryear. Dad demonstrated this often. All those years - not necessarily “pent up”, but not formally allowed to show, be exhibited. I hated the bastard Parkinson's, but I loved knowing “he felt.” As tears go by doesn’t necessarily have to be a very sad thing. Tears of joy, tears from yesterday’s events - tears simply for ‘feel.’
It is the evening of the day
I sit and watch the children play
Doin' things I used to do
They think are new
I sit and watch
As tears go by
The day after JFK died.. September 12, 2001. Aside from today, the only other two days I can recall that this stupid sport’s enthusiast read the front section of the Kansas City Star before burying his head in the sport’s section.
Josh Langton. Article, front page. Josh is a stepson to my ex. Her husband Mike’s child. In March, he had his car on a hoist - was welding, spark caught the gas tank on fire - explosion jolted him to the ground… burns to over 90% of his body. His father got a blanket and rolled him on the ground - otherwise, he might not even be here today (and sadly, it's still touch and go.)
Article addressed his spunk.. His ‘never having the fear to back down” (stand up for his principles..).. Desert Storm participant. And the induced coma he was initially placed in so the pain would hopefully lessen, and while skin grafts were taken. The family talks to him daily.. One day.. Pleading “please Josh, you can’t leave me”.. and a tear welled up on his eye. That’s feel. Wow..
More from the Star article: On Wednesday night, Battagliola (Josh’s mom) stood terrified at her son’s side. Asleep, Josh looked lifeless. “I need to see some life or something,” she told the nurse. “I need for him to know how much I love him.”
He just needs sleep, the nurse explained, before approaching the bed. “Josh?” the nurse said. “Josh? Your mom’s here.” His heavy eyes opened. His voice was barely audible.
“I love you, Mom,” he managed. She kissed his forehead and cried.
“Just go back to sleep, sweetheart,” she said, and took a seat at his side.
Youth. Baseball. Old age. Parkinsons. Horror. It is the evening of the day.. I sit and watch.. As tears go by..
I sit and watch the children play
Smiling faces I can see
But not for me
I sit and watch
As tears go by
McDonalds, 6:15am.. Miraculously beautiful rainbow cast over the sky.. “The usual” (they don’t even ask any longer, they just ring it in).. short hop to City Park, Liberty, MO - KC Star in hand. I “grew up” here. Played there, worked there, STILL play there. Young punks, obviously first year of baseball, scatter excitedly from their cars to the ballfield. Smiling faces - but not for me… It’s all good.
Article about young phenom just called up to the Royals. Cause for “back in the day” optimism… In fact, mid-way thru the article he started talking about George Brett/Frank White stories - and there I sat, full cycle. Little kids baseball, the good days of the Royals, the (someday) finalization of an old fart’s dream to continue “being a kid.” I actually did kinda tear up.
My riches can't buy everything
I want to hear the children sing
All I hear is the sound
Of rain falling on the ground
I sit and watch
As tears go by
I somewhat jest in saying “I might have Parkinson's.” Jest in that there are no signs.. Ok, one sign.. My father had Parkinson's.. A natural ‘progression’ of Parkinson's is to tear up, well up, be fairly emotional upon little things - or things that yank at yesteryear. Dad demonstrated this often. All those years - not necessarily “pent up”, but not formally allowed to show, be exhibited. I hated the bastard Parkinson's, but I loved knowing “he felt.” As tears go by doesn’t necessarily have to be a very sad thing. Tears of joy, tears from yesterday’s events - tears simply for ‘feel.’
It is the evening of the day
I sit and watch the children play
Doin' things I used to do
They think are new
I sit and watch
As tears go by
The day after JFK died.. September 12, 2001. Aside from today, the only other two days I can recall that this stupid sport’s enthusiast read the front section of the Kansas City Star before burying his head in the sport’s section.
Josh Langton. Article, front page. Josh is a stepson to my ex. Her husband Mike’s child. In March, he had his car on a hoist - was welding, spark caught the gas tank on fire - explosion jolted him to the ground… burns to over 90% of his body. His father got a blanket and rolled him on the ground - otherwise, he might not even be here today (and sadly, it's still touch and go.)
Article addressed his spunk.. His ‘never having the fear to back down” (stand up for his principles..).. Desert Storm participant. And the induced coma he was initially placed in so the pain would hopefully lessen, and while skin grafts were taken. The family talks to him daily.. One day.. Pleading “please Josh, you can’t leave me”.. and a tear welled up on his eye. That’s feel. Wow..
More from the Star article: On Wednesday night, Battagliola (Josh’s mom) stood terrified at her son’s side. Asleep, Josh looked lifeless. “I need to see some life or something,” she told the nurse. “I need for him to know how much I love him.”
He just needs sleep, the nurse explained, before approaching the bed. “Josh?” the nurse said. “Josh? Your mom’s here.” His heavy eyes opened. His voice was barely audible.
“I love you, Mom,” he managed. She kissed his forehead and cried.
“Just go back to sleep, sweetheart,” she said, and took a seat at his side.
Youth. Baseball. Old age. Parkinsons. Horror. It is the evening of the day.. I sit and watch.. As tears go by..
Thursday, May 05, 2011
I'm unique, just like you.....
(You wanna impress me.. say “UNIQUE NEW YORK”... 3 times.. REAL FAST!)
Hi, and welcome to weirdom. The place where nonsensical is vogue – and altering Dr. Emmitt Brown's take just a tad “Rules?.. Rules? Where we're going we don't need rules!”
The great thing abouta blog. No teacher with red marker.. u can turn spellcheck off.. u can write like people talk... woulda... coulda.. shoulda.. and no one gives a rats!
Robert Pershing Wadlow was unique. Tallest man EVER. Had hypertrophy of his pituitary gland resulting in abnormally high level of human growth hormone. Get this.. .8'11.1”.......... That's unique.
Can u guess why this guy is unique? Adolph Blaine Charles David Earl Frederick Gerald Hubert Irvin John Kenneth Lloyd Martin Nero
Oliver Paul Quincy Randolph Sherman Thomas Uncas Victor William Xerxes Yancy Zeus Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorff. Uh huh, figured you could.
Unique jobs? Lifeguard at nude beach. Jelly donut filler. Ahm, Jaime Rascone. Go ahead, Google him. He works quality control in a brothel in Santiago, Chili. After candidates are screened (interviews, psychological testing, photo session) – whittled down to six. Jaime then “interviews” the candidates, taking diligent notes and makes recommendations to the madam. This job strain makes it so he can only do this once a month, or, 70 gals per year. That's pretty damn unique, and I hate his guts.
Unique: Antarctica is the only continent without reptiles or snakes.
Libra, the Scales, is the only inanimate symbol in the zodiac.
Ohio's flag is a pennant. (The other 49 are rectangular)
The only letter that doesn't appear in any of the 50 states? Q.
The only animal who's evidence is admissible in American Court? The bloodhound.
We're all unique. Moles. Tats. Size. Shape. Skin color. Hair color. Eyes. Dimples. Wrinkles. Demeanor. Walk. Introvert-extrovert-mediumvert.
“One of a kind”.. we've all known someone like that. Sometimes we love 'em, sometimes we wish they'd get locked up and lose the key. Oft times we deduce to “well.. that's just (insert name here)”...
People are unique (There are more chickens in the world than people)...
Winston Churchill was born in the ladies room during a dance. You can't sneeze with your eyes open. Stewardesses is the longest word typed with your left hand.
Unique. Only four words end in 'dous'...... tremendous, horrendous, stupendous and harardous. Decka cards, only the king of hearts ain't gotta moustache.
Fill her up: A Boeing 747 holds 57,285 gallons of fuel. Most lipstick contains fish scales. HA! I didn't make it up! First bar code? Wrigley's gum. Cat urine glows under a black-light (don't ask how I know this.)
Thomas Edison, lightbulb inventor, was afraid of the dark.
Are you a unique pooper? The average American uses 57 sheets of TP per day. Slugs have 4 noses. There are more plastic flamingos in the US than real ones.
Fingerprints are unique. Know what? So are tongue prints! Poor Charles Osborne was unique.. he had the hiccups for 69 years!
I'm uniqued out. We're all weird, different, the-one-and-only.. we only see from one pair of shoes.. we are in charge of our direction, our speech, our thoughts, our ways, our beliefs.. For the most part, we mingle perty peacefully together.
I'm unique, just like you.. .Love, Victurd.
Hi, and welcome to weirdom. The place where nonsensical is vogue – and altering Dr. Emmitt Brown's take just a tad “Rules?.. Rules? Where we're going we don't need rules!”
The great thing abouta blog. No teacher with red marker.. u can turn spellcheck off.. u can write like people talk... woulda... coulda.. shoulda.. and no one gives a rats!
Robert Pershing Wadlow was unique. Tallest man EVER. Had hypertrophy of his pituitary gland resulting in abnormally high level of human growth hormone. Get this.. .8'11.1”.......... That's unique.
Can u guess why this guy is unique? Adolph Blaine Charles David Earl Frederick Gerald Hubert Irvin John Kenneth Lloyd Martin Nero
Oliver Paul Quincy Randolph Sherman Thomas Uncas Victor William Xerxes Yancy Zeus Wolfeschlegelsteinhausenbergerdorff. Uh huh, figured you could.
Unique jobs? Lifeguard at nude beach. Jelly donut filler. Ahm, Jaime Rascone. Go ahead, Google him. He works quality control in a brothel in Santiago, Chili. After candidates are screened (interviews, psychological testing, photo session) – whittled down to six. Jaime then “interviews” the candidates, taking diligent notes and makes recommendations to the madam. This job strain makes it so he can only do this once a month, or, 70 gals per year. That's pretty damn unique, and I hate his guts.
Unique: Antarctica is the only continent without reptiles or snakes.
Libra, the Scales, is the only inanimate symbol in the zodiac.
Ohio's flag is a pennant. (The other 49 are rectangular)
The only letter that doesn't appear in any of the 50 states? Q.
The only animal who's evidence is admissible in American Court? The bloodhound.
We're all unique. Moles. Tats. Size. Shape. Skin color. Hair color. Eyes. Dimples. Wrinkles. Demeanor. Walk. Introvert-extrovert-mediumvert.
“One of a kind”.. we've all known someone like that. Sometimes we love 'em, sometimes we wish they'd get locked up and lose the key. Oft times we deduce to “well.. that's just (insert name here)”...
People are unique (There are more chickens in the world than people)...
Winston Churchill was born in the ladies room during a dance. You can't sneeze with your eyes open. Stewardesses is the longest word typed with your left hand.
Unique. Only four words end in 'dous'...... tremendous, horrendous, stupendous and harardous. Decka cards, only the king of hearts ain't gotta moustache.
Fill her up: A Boeing 747 holds 57,285 gallons of fuel. Most lipstick contains fish scales. HA! I didn't make it up! First bar code? Wrigley's gum. Cat urine glows under a black-light (don't ask how I know this.)
Thomas Edison, lightbulb inventor, was afraid of the dark.
Are you a unique pooper? The average American uses 57 sheets of TP per day. Slugs have 4 noses. There are more plastic flamingos in the US than real ones.
Fingerprints are unique. Know what? So are tongue prints! Poor Charles Osborne was unique.. he had the hiccups for 69 years!
I'm uniqued out. We're all weird, different, the-one-and-only.. we only see from one pair of shoes.. we are in charge of our direction, our speech, our thoughts, our ways, our beliefs.. For the most part, we mingle perty peacefully together.
I'm unique, just like you.. .Love, Victurd.
Sunday, May 01, 2011
Green eggs and ham......
Oh Dr. Suess... ya gotta love Dr. Suess... (Well, ya ain't gotta, but I do)...
Of course – sure, The Cat in the Hat... Green eggs and ham.. One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish.. How the Grinch Stole Christmas...
But too... his quotes...
Was looking thru female profiles on this online dating site..(YOU VICTOR? SURELY NOT?... yeah... sorry... habit).. and one gal had one that really struck home with me:
“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”
I LOVE THIS! Whilst I honestly abhor incessant talkers – I view writing/reading differently. I'll write what I want, when I want – ya ain't gotta read it. But.. with incessant speech, you're trapped, PATOOEY, fingernails on the chalkboard to my ears!
“Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.” Are you kidding me? A CHILDREN'S BOOK WRITER? FARM OUT.
“You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” I think I remember this feeling, and I think I really liked it, and I think he, this children's book writer, is “write” on.
“Today was good. Today was fun. Tomorrow is another one.” Ok, mebbe kid-talk kinda-sorta, but... OUTLOOK too. Chin up, had/have fun... s'more is comin'...
“A person's a person, no matter how small.” Me thinks he doesn't exclusively mean kiddos here... Ride on Doc – thanks, and we will value everyone...
“Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the things you can think up if only you try.” ie, “ya got it inya – don't think you don't.”
“If you never did you should. These things are fun and fun is good.” So very basic. Live a little. “Shouldn't” shouldn't be in your vocabulary. Oops. Venture. Go. Live. (And remember, this guy wrote kid's books!)
“All alone! Whether you like it or not, alone is something you'll be quite a lot!” Amen Brother Ben. Didn't teach nifty stuff like this in school. Never imagined it could be true. To that, he adds:
“You are you. Now, isn't that pleasant?” I guess he means “like ourselves.” Heavy, and sometimes can be hard – but also so very true – we should like ourselves and lighten the load we place upon ourselves.
“From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere.” Sure, goofy – colored pics in a book with stories... But me thinky he say “look... have fun... enjoy... lighten up... laugh... enjoy... smile...allow humor to sneak into your world!”
“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells.” YEP. This one has ME written allover it. Some dislike, and that's ok, scroll to first quote!
“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the guy who'll decide where to go.” Not only for the young, but for the meek, the timid, for us all...
And finally, about finding fun from here to there, there to here: “If I were invited to a dinner party with my characters, I wouldn't show up!”
Dr. Suess – even though you're no longer among the living, you will live forever. Thanks for being so much more than “just a children's book writer.” We've all learned from you. Love, Victurd
Of course – sure, The Cat in the Hat... Green eggs and ham.. One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish.. How the Grinch Stole Christmas...
But too... his quotes...
Was looking thru female profiles on this online dating site..(YOU VICTOR? SURELY NOT?... yeah... sorry... habit).. and one gal had one that really struck home with me:
“Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind.”
I LOVE THIS! Whilst I honestly abhor incessant talkers – I view writing/reading differently. I'll write what I want, when I want – ya ain't gotta read it. But.. with incessant speech, you're trapped, PATOOEY, fingernails on the chalkboard to my ears!
“Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.” Are you kidding me? A CHILDREN'S BOOK WRITER? FARM OUT.
“You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” I think I remember this feeling, and I think I really liked it, and I think he, this children's book writer, is “write” on.
“Today was good. Today was fun. Tomorrow is another one.” Ok, mebbe kid-talk kinda-sorta, but... OUTLOOK too. Chin up, had/have fun... s'more is comin'...
“A person's a person, no matter how small.” Me thinks he doesn't exclusively mean kiddos here... Ride on Doc – thanks, and we will value everyone...
“Think left and think right and think low and think high. Oh, the things you can think up if only you try.” ie, “ya got it inya – don't think you don't.”
“If you never did you should. These things are fun and fun is good.” So very basic. Live a little. “Shouldn't” shouldn't be in your vocabulary. Oops. Venture. Go. Live. (And remember, this guy wrote kid's books!)
“All alone! Whether you like it or not, alone is something you'll be quite a lot!” Amen Brother Ben. Didn't teach nifty stuff like this in school. Never imagined it could be true. To that, he adds:
“You are you. Now, isn't that pleasant?” I guess he means “like ourselves.” Heavy, and sometimes can be hard – but also so very true – we should like ourselves and lighten the load we place upon ourselves.
“From there to here, and here to there, funny things are everywhere.” Sure, goofy – colored pics in a book with stories... But me thinky he say “look... have fun... enjoy... lighten up... laugh... enjoy... smile...allow humor to sneak into your world!”
“I like nonsense, it wakes up the brain cells.” YEP. This one has ME written allover it. Some dislike, and that's ok, scroll to first quote!
“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself in any direction you choose. You're on your own, and you know what you know. And you are the guy who'll decide where to go.” Not only for the young, but for the meek, the timid, for us all...
And finally, about finding fun from here to there, there to here: “If I were invited to a dinner party with my characters, I wouldn't show up!”
Dr. Suess – even though you're no longer among the living, you will live forever. Thanks for being so much more than “just a children's book writer.” We've all learned from you. Love, Victurd
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