Ah the beauty of freshly fallen snow.

That's BS (from these galoshes anyways). Yes, snow is pretty, from indoors.

You are certainly entitled to your opine, me mine. Move to Colorado if you like (nuttin' personal Mike Einerson, know how much you love it there), love visiting/viewing, but ain't no hangers for my hat there.

I literally HATE driving in this stuff. Ever grind your teeth? (Ever eat a pine tree?).. I get more muscle exercise driving in the snow than an hour on any damn elliptical machine.

You! You one car length behind me at 35 mph in four inches of snow, you're an idiot! (Sorry, slipped)...

Usedta love sledding, there was hot chocolate reward awaiting. Usedta love snow skiing, been awhile, but last time I went I was old enough to envision hip replacement with each and every exit off the lift at the top of the mountain.

COLD! Snow is GD (gosh darn) COLD! "To the bone" as we age. Patooey. Speaking of bone (with apologies to those that maybe usedta like me, and of course to my embarrassed relatives), EVER PEED IN COLD WEATHER? "Now whereinthehell did it go? I KNOW it's in there somewhere!"... Sorry, kinda.

Gloves. Whereinthehell is the other glove? I am organizationally challenged (And I swear to God dryers eat socks... To heck with you for laughing at me cause my socks don't match, I've got a pair just like 'em in my drawer at home!)..

When's the last time you gotta call "hey, wanna go play in the snow?" Uh huh, what I said.

Give me April, May, June, July and August. Ok, don't feel left out September, you're ok too.

I hate (yes, I know it's a strong word), I hate shoveling snow... snow melt.. scraping windshields.. jumping onto plastic car seats in 5 degree weather... MUSH thrown at my windshield from 4 wheel drive soccer mom's vehicle in the next lane. Yuck, patooey.

Victor, had you not job-hopped, stayed, and invested in your 401K better you could be in Phoenix chasing other raisins right now? Bite me, and you and the sled you came in on.

Short one today, mebbe pun intended. Happy New Year, travel safely, and don't worry about my gloveless hand getting frostbite, I'll put a sock on it if need be.

Going to take a xanax now, hopefully that (and Springtime) will help me put a sock on all this bitching.

Slip sliding away, love, Victurd.

Simon says........

A winter's day
In a deep and dark December;
I am alone,
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Weird, to me, that sometimes when we seek, crave, desire 'others', be it relationship-wise, friendship-wise, we resort, resign to being alone.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mighty,
That none may penetrate.
I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain.
It's laughter and it's loving I disdain.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

We tell ourselves "it's ok, I didn't need/want that anyways."

Don't talk of love,
But I've heard the words before;
It's sleeping in my memory.
I won't disturb the slumber of feelings that have died.
If I never loved I never would have cried.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Sometimes hard to cipher Simon. Not sure if he's giving up, or, wanting so badly.

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me;
I am shielded in my armor,
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb.
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island.

Pain (and much good) come from relationships. Alone too causes pain, but perhaps
it's sometimes easier to absorb that kind rather than having to wade thru the other kind.

And a rock feels no pain;
And an island never cries.

Crying happens on islands too, it's just not as easily heard. One too can be 'mated' and so alone. Seen it (others). Been it. Tires spinning on ice. Walking into a 40 mph wind.

I/we, could give up. Some do. I won't. Ever. (And getting out has nothing to do with me just smoking my last cig... Just like going to the gym has nothing to do with spandex.)

May you be a rock in 2013. Sure, hurts. Sure, causes pain. Visiting an island can be very therapeutic. Living there, not so much.

Happy day, Victurd.

A short one on 'that word.'

I kinda purposely entitled this "that word" insteada what I was gonna: "Shit" -primarily because I've many, many friends, relatives who might see that, and would be kinda in shock... disbelief, incredulous perhaps - some, and "really?" others. . And, the immediate 'look on their face' would be akin to.. "no shit Victor?" So yes, "shit".

I'ma guessin' a vast 90 percenta us have spewed that word a time or two in our lifetime.. and many, with certain frequency. And just think, without shit, we wouldn't be here today.

"Shit happens" - we say that to remind us, as we traverse the rollercoaster of life - We wouldn't have "good" without "goo"... No matter how well planned out, intended, hopeful - shit happens.

Whilst I (of course) NEVER-EVER, I remember the phrase from back in the longhaired reasonably freakish days - exhaled and said at a very high pitch "good shit." Which, always kinda puzzled me, as I never graded mine, nor knew there even were grades for shit.

Although.. our fraternity house in college was disgusting... and that's kinda just the way we liked it. The second floor squatter.. We kept a sign, scotch tape nearby, and whenever a brother had one that was "omg, I've never seen one that long" we'd affix the sign "The King" to the commode, and it warranted the 'lid open, no flushing for three days' rule. Proud. Sick? Sure.. but proud.

I recently watched a rather humerous video of a man dressed up in a 'snow man' outfit, outside a retail establishment... and he went from "still, lifeless.... immobile", 'that's there simply for the merriment of winter', 'it's like an ornament, statue.. it's 'fixed'.. to ALLOFASUDDEN he'd "swivel" and turn toward the unsuspecting (NOW STUNNED) walker-by.. after watching a about thirty different (pardon the pun) "scared shitless" folk's reactions - "SHIT" seemed to be the most popular verbal reaction to the 'statue's sudden movement. Shit's a valuable, useful word..

Shit saves. The folks above were scared. Shit saves. That feel you get, like I had in winter time yesterday... you're behind the wheel, two hands on the wheel, in control.. and allofasudden the winter conditions of the road take the car completely out of your control.. brakes don't help.. turning the steering wheel it useless.. so insteada yelling "FOR BEHOOGITY SAKES, WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE! GIVE MY GEORGE BRETT AUTOGRAPHS TO MY FIRSTBORN GRANDSON, MY SAVINGS ACCOUNT TO AUBRIE, AND REMEMBER: CREMATION, DUMP MY ASHES ON THE CITY PARK BALLFIELD!!!!"... instead, we simply say "SHIT"... shit saves, encapsulates.

"I don't give a shit"... is good for rebellion... "had it up to here" at work, in marriage, in 'friendship'.. or, a 'so what?' to one's disbelief of "are you really gonna do that?"

Shit/shinola enables us to explain, designate stupid people.

"Don't stink", as in "he/she doesn't think his/her shit stinks." Whilst, in marriage, I was never in attendance in the restroom with her 'during', I do remember going in shortly after, and can attest to "yes... shit stinks....his, hers, everyone's"

"WHY.. YOU LITTLE SHIT!!" is a reactionary that allows us to "get back" at youthful rebellion. It's usually said with smile... and draws a smile. I guess you could even say "funny shit"..

"Funny shit" is also a common reply to an email a friend has sent u that nearly makes one pee our pants, laugh aloud over the toppa the cubicle.

"Holy shit" has nothing to do with religion - rather it's said to something we've seen in disbelief. "Are you shitting me" has nothing to do with a person/rectum, again, it too is the disbelief thing.

It is said "when you're up to your nose in shit, keep your mouth shut." There's cocky shit, shitheads, bullshit, cowshit, horseshit, piles of shit, looking "the shit"...

In real life, and in vernacular, we could never exist without shit. At age sixty "I don't care what you/people, think." Forty years ago I mighta termed it "I don't give a..............." No shit.

I've always blogged about shit, just never specifically. Sorry... kinda.

Love, Victurd.

Sorry...... bored...

Before I die..... I wanna...

I wanna cry... (Crying can be a very good thing)

I'd love to see Dems/Repubs agree on something for the betterment of our people/county.

I'd like to see some type of advanced technology that would not allow cars to get in accidents..

I'd love for kids born today, when they reach my age to know as much about cancer as I know about WWI (ie, in the past, long ago, a distant memory.)

Selfishly, I'd love to retire, and have enough to get by..

I'm going to try to tell every nice smile I see, "nice smile." Try to remember, whenever someone asks "how was your day... how you doin'... how you been" - answer, thank for asking, and reciprocate with "and you?" (I forget to do this sometimes, and a very bad habit.)

I want to have fun. Go. Do. Live. Love.

Attend my grandkid's school programs, athletic contests, Baptisms...

I promise to portray 'happy' on the outside, even though life lends us "that just ain't always the case."

See Missouri kick Kansas's butt again (in any sport)

I will continue to enjoy ogling at every nice derriere I see. Color me, as well as my fellow male brethren, pigs.

Eat a 300 burger, a Stroud's chicken breast, a Jack Stack "Pour Russ" pulled pork sandwich... go see a movie (it's been years)..

Attend a Royal's and a Chief's playoff game.

Track down those I love/remember-so, before either of us show up in the obits.

Be an ordinary Joe, which could be defined as "won't ever lay a hand on a woman... won't rob/steal/cheat... won't say things detrimental to a person/their character.. *demonstrate patience." *(Qualifier) Except for vendors with an attitude, sorry, that gets my goat.

Have a dog, and a cat again someday.

Continue to write, no matter how many eyeballs don't show up. I write because me no likey telephone, and me no livey with anyone - so it's my backwards means of 'conversation'...

I wanna see Cooperstown... the Rolling Stones.. a week of "no hurry" in Washington DC. Make it back to Maui with a devoted one (Victor, that's borderline saying things detrimental to a person/their character)... sorry..... slipped.

See humor. Hear humor. Pass humor on. Laugh. A lot.

Not be a burden to any one, ever.

Get laid. Sorry... scroll to male brethren, pigs. Slipped.

That, for this fleeting, current moment, is my bucket list....

Almost forgot........ "and yours?"

Love, Victurd.

There is a lot to be thankful for....

I am thankful for our troops everywhere in the world who sacrifice so that our great country can maintain freedom.

Smiles. Eyes that familiarly meet. A door held. Texts. Sunshine. Rain. Critters, and the excitement with which they demonstrate.

A dog off a leash. A cat who gives you that 'for real?' look when you call it by name.

Loyalty. Care. Trust. Bosses who don't fire me when I make stupid errors that cost our company. Bosses who reward/share the wealth.

Relationships, every kind. Hope. The excitement of tomorrow. Money, and knowing all will be ok when there ain't any.

People that have to work today, and appreciation of their sacrificing to do so. Gas that's back under $3/gallon. A car that starts. A fridge that runs, a furnace that brings warmth.

Dimples. A nice derriere, sorry.. kinda.

Youth - their excitement, and those older who are able to maintain that excitement in life. Routine. No routine. Trying new things. Repeating things done with anewed enjoyment.

Givers. A beer bought and being able to by one for another. Compliments. Health.

Gulp, the fact we at least have a major league baseball team and a national football league team in our town.

Equality. Facebook. Email. The internet. Expressing, no matter the type/method.

Pecan pie, pumpkin pie, turkey, dressing.......... Snickers, Butterfingers.. Chili Cheese Fritos... Pulled pork, scrumptious ribs.. A 300 burger. Breakfast, cigs and coffee at Nelly Belle's..

Bonfires, firepits, and friendship aound same. People my age. People older. People younger. People of different colors, religions, nationalities, and gulp again, political views.

I'm thankful that wasn't the last panel of toilet paper I just used.

Handshakes, fist-bumps, a hand on the shoulder.

Teammates. Running mates. Gulp, past mates.

Medical personnel. A good HR department. Having a job I do not dread at all driving to.

Kissing. Sorry, kinda. Anticipation. Walking when running is desired.

Smiles on those whose life has not given them a fair deal.

Coffee. Miller Lite.

The ability to go ahead and write a blog when I should be in the shower getting ready for family comraderie and the fact they won't be upset if I'm a couple minutes late.

MU, and fans alike.. gulp, yes, even KU, their fans.

The crack of a bat. The "umph" of a tackle. The near silence of a 'swish'.

Bosses that pretty much leave old farts alone to do their job, and understand the appreciation of doing so.

I know I've forgotten, missed a lot. Comes with aging.

Aging. Brownspots and the ability to scrape them off, only to have them return like a hound fetching a ball.

Happy Thanksgiving. Happy day. Happy hour. Happy minute.

Spellcheck, and having the ability to swerve around it when they tell you firepits ain't a word.

Big Gulps.

Love, Victurd.

"And you are?"......

I know. It's almost Thanksgiving. I should be chirpy, "Gobble Gobble".. Eh, I figure there are enough do-gooders sprouting good(said lovingly, and genuinely, and admirably)out there that I'm safe to offset with a bitch session.

"And you are?" (when calling a company you work with..... mosta the time they're a vendor, and you are PAYING them money")

"Think of me as a naked baby... just like everyone else who enters this world... I realize some grow to greater heights, become more honorable, uh huh, more important.. but let's pretend we're all naked babies calling you... CAN YOU JUST TRANSFER ME TO MARGARET?"

Or..........

"I am.. ahm.. This it Tom... Tom Selleck".. .to which one obviously very young receptionist replied "Just a minute Mr. Selleck, I'll transfer you now".. followed closely by "I KNEW IT WAS YOU!!!!(giggles)"

"And you're with?"...

"Wilson and Ditch Digging America" but that wouldn't be right, because that, in and of itself too, is discrimination.

Victor, geez Louise, it really is a time to give thanks.. so can you DO THAT?"

Ok... I love a company we deal with, they answer with "It's a great day at (enter name of company here) HOW may I direct your call?" Far out.. A nursery of babies.. all grown.. calling in one-by-one, each as important as the other.

Voicemail. May I stop on this almost THANKSgiving day and bitch about voicemail? Too bad, I'm gonna. Frustrating thing. I realize people go to lunch, pee, smoke, pick up sick kids from school/day care, take vacation.. are away from their desks... And sure, I get voicemails at work too, so color me guilty (or normal)... Our work is not life or death critical - but there are occasions where we have GOT to talk to someone, NOW.

(We move freight. Sometimes the bill of lading we've faxed them has grown feet, and walked away, the truck is there, driver calling dispatcher, in turn calling us.. Sometimes they say, "nope, we don't have that shipment"... It could be a multitude of things, but, a truck is there, there is a problem, and we need an answer... a warm-fuzzy voice... a... after 4-5 tries into voicemail)

You punch ZERO (upon voicemail).... and are met with "I'm sorry, that's an invalid entry"... or... you get reconnected with "And you are?" chirpy person, you tell 'em what's transpired.. "I'd be happy to take a message, and take your phone number for them to call you back as soon as it's possible for them"......."You no comprende, the truck is AT YOUR DOCK, there's a problem, we need help/an answer... GD (gosh darnit) can you just find someone who can help me?)...

Or maybe "I'm sorry, (so-and-so) is unavailable at present, I'd be happy to take a message for (that B, that A-hole who never picks up their phone but smiles gayly upon logging on to their bank website to see their payroll direct deposit) and have them get back to you at their first opportunity"... and all the while your BP is increasing, screw the fact that Turkey Day and Christmas are nearing... and you reduce to "nevermind"...

I love my job, I do. It's the little things in life that get my goat........

Getting in line at Mickey D's behind someone who says "well... give me just a bit to look at the menu" (and they've been here 4,723 times, driven 17 miles to order [think about what you want?].. The guy/gal with 29 items in the 15 items or less checkout lane.. The guy at the four-way stop who got there when Bush was president, but won't move an inch. The person you pass in the morning at the gas station on your way to get a cuppa coffee, get ur eyes open, you nod, say "Hi" and NOTHING in return.

The boss who has his secretary record his voicemail greeting. REALLY?

Ok, I'll admit. 99% of the time life goes great, people are amazing.. service workers give great service... people hold the door open for you... people you hold the door open for smile and say "Thank you".. People are givers. If ever in need of help, they're amazing.

I am thankful for life, people, events, carrying on's of this planet. I do, however, very much enjoy sometimes coming from left field.

Sorry... Kinda.. Happy Thanksgiving, Victurd

Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of a mate (the 2nd, or 3rd time over)

Life, should come with instructions. (Pressing one for English, thanks)...

Sometimes it goes as smooth as a puck across a well powdered shuffleboard table... others, it's like trying to iron a porcupine.

I see a red door and I want it painted black. Fickle. We, are fickle. With apologies to long-term couples who "get it".... we formally married, formally dating, wanna date, usedta date, dating:

"This porridge is too hot!" It's just not there any longer. I've found someone else. You are: too big, too small, worry too much about money, don't have the same goals/aspirations.. Too old, too young.... our bucket list is not similar... Honest, I much prefer blonde, redhead, brunette, fairskin, darkskin, green/blue/brown/black/grey eyes.. "This porridge is too cold!"... You work too much.. need a better job... need a job. You don't bring me flowers - any more.. All you think about is sex. You NEVER wanna be intimate any more..

"The older I get, the pickier I get." "Yeah but....".. 'Yes, I'd love to proceed, but I remember what happened in the last relationship" ... "This chair is too big!".. "You live (there), and I live (here)".. We're not the same age/type.. I'm just not sure the "oh baby" is there.

Sure, we had fun, but.... starting allover... again? I dunno...

There is semblance between dating, and resume's (and yes, whilst old age dating is 'resuming' and that GD word (resume') means two things, I'm talking the prettied up paper for job-hunting). .. When young, eye's wide open, Carly Simon's "Anticipation", gussied up, heart palpitations for each... when older: we could give a rat's ass about resume's.. . "Why should eyes wide open, anticipation, gussied, palpitations happen... it's like meat in the freezer, you know it's not forever.. "

"Advanced dating", considering marriage... at an older age... can be kinda like fearing water 'cause you once almost drowned. Freezing up in commute due to the GD tail-gater, 'cause the last rear-ender is still fresh on your brain... re-living, re-hearing after-the-fact 'advice' --> "I told you so"...

"Someone's been sleeping in my bed", and there ain't no way I'm gonna do that shit again.

All that said.. I actually had a pretty nice time tonight. I wish written instructions came with life. Anyone seen Goldilocks?

Victor, you've got a big mouth..... I know. Sorry.

Love, Victurd.

What's is all about, Alfie? (I blab, too much)

What's it all about, Alfie?
Is it just for the moment we live?
What's it all about when you sort it out, Alfie?

Life is definitely about sorting. I abhor bias. Age, sex, race, size, money, lack thereof, heritage, beliefs, non-beliefs.

I think we each, daily, weekly, yearly, hourly, by the minute - are trying to figure out this thing called life. And it's ok we don't have all the answers. Bias aside, I do believe aging affords "we kinda get it" moreso than in our childhood, young adulthood, child-rearing-hood. All of life's 'drops' are precious... aging is an eye opener to same.

Are we meant to take more than we give
Or are we meant to be kind?

Victor, DAMNIT, *DO NOT* mention the election here. Ok, won't.

And if only fools are kind, Alfie,
Then I guess it's wise to be cruel.

I loved loved loved Logic class in college. And while this makes "logical sense", nuh uh.

And if life belongs only to the strong, Alfie,
What will you lend on an old golden rule?

Strong is outwardly a misnomer. We see the guy in the gym, biceps, triceps, bulging. Not necessarily/absolutely so. I've known so many physically looking frail folks (folks of all sizes, ages) that are so way beyond strong it's incredible. I see friends, family, role models - and they radiate strong. Embedded in their beliefs, actions and behavior follow suit, demonstrate same.

As sure as I believe there's a heaven above, Alfie,
I know there's something much more,
Something even non-believers can believe in.
I believe in love, Alfie.
Without true love we just exist, Alfie.
Until you find the love you've missed you're nothing, Alfie.
When you walk let your heart lead the way
And you'll find love any day, Alfie

I have been in love. Have. Coupled. Perhaps that's the intent of the songwriter, dunno. I personally believe love runs deeper. I know many that clam up, cannot say that word. I 'love' the word love. Love doesn't necessitate "mad, amorous" (but of course glorious if so).. I think love should be passed out, orated, as frequently as high fives and knuckle touches.

Alfie would you tell me what's it all about?
what's it all about? Alfie, Alfie, Alfie.
What's it all about? Whats this all about?
what's it all about Alfie? tell me what's it all about Alfie? what's it all about Alfie? just tell me yeah. what's it all about?
what's it all about?

Alfie... if you ever figure it out, please share. Life is a wonder we're all "behind the wheel", "behind the keyboard", "in the family room", "on the phone", "laying in bed", "Driving to work", "meditating", "having a beer, glass of wine", conversing", "inquiring", "wondering" trying to figure it out Alfie, too.

We'll never completely figure it out Alfie.. but it's sure a fun ride, experience, trip, trying to do so. Take care Alfie, love, Victurd.

What I've learned in 60 years...

Gas is expensive, sometimes hurts, can be embarrassing, but life is basically a gas..

Children are good for the heart...

People are genuinely nice - and tons do nice things for little, if any, reason.

Wrinkles are the wonderful river of yesteryear..

Children are nice to old folks, old folks are nice to younger ones - and those in-between are also nice to each (and vice versa)..

Life is all about experiences with other folks... school, work, friendship, recreation - and no matter how little the time spent - or how long spent, everlasting bonds are formed - and that person, those people are special in one's life.

Friends relate stories long forgotten - thus, kinda sorta enabling us to live/do it allover again.

Family is family, growth is wonderful, fitting in is a gimme - loss is horrific.

Animals are not "lower creatures" and I'm thankful to sit back and learn from them. Lessons in loyalty, and how it doesn't take a lot to simply have fun.

Being a teammate is a blessing with frequent smile reward.

People are somehow better looking, healthier in smile.

Smiles and gas - two natural things that make us go. We receive smiles from others we don't even know - we receive smiles in every day passing of those we're around.. and maybe the best are from those we've not seen in awhile - and again, yesteryear is conjured up again.

Every four years, there are six months within it's about you/me. Blessed are the three and one-half years in there that it's about "us".

Those gone are never really gone.

Passion is wonderful, worthwhile, can be frustrating, we lose, we win - but a life without it is unimaginable.

I, you, we - are not perfect. "Ugly" can be said, written, a wrongful act/action. Like a flesh wound, it's one day "healed over" with a baby scar to serve as a reminder "Victor, don't be an idiot again."

For 58 years, I had no idea the best feel of my life would be when those two little arms from four feet beneath reached up to me in unison.

Facebook is a wonderful quilt of one's life and I'm very thankful for it.

Diapers. Sight. Crawl. Walk. Run. Three-wheels. Two wheels. School. Four wheels. Work. Relationship. Marriage. Family growth. Memories. Slowing down a bit, albeit with a youthful brain. Retirement (one day).. perhaps all wrapped up by diapers again.

Life's a gas. Smile.

Love, Victurd.

You're so vein....

You walked into the party like you were walking onto a yacht
Your hat strategically dipped below one eye
Your scarf it was apricot
You had one eye in the mirror as you watched yourself gavotte
And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner
They'd be your partner, and...

Reckon we've all known someone like that. When given the choice between
looking a mirror and a friend in the eyes... an easy decision...

You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you
You're so vain, I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? Don't You?

Wow... Wiki enlightens.. The first candidate Carly wrote about was Mick.. . as in Jagger... Then Warren Beatty commented "Let's be honest. That song was about me." And on and on it went... Mebbe David Bowie, perhaps David Cassidy, and what about Cat Stevens? (Please don't let that tarnish Carly's reputation)..

You had me several years ago when I was still quite naive
Well you said that we made such a pretty pair
And that you would never leave
But you gave away the things you loved and one of them was me
I had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffee
Clouds in my coffee, and...

Funny, kinda. I guess relationships can be kinda like coffee. Too weak. Too strong. Too warm. Not hot enough. "The perfect blend", uh huh, right. Clouds in my coffee. and..

You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you
You're so vain, I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? Don't You?

Well I hear you went up to Saratoga and your horse naturally won
Then you flew your lear jet up to Nova Scotia
To see the total eclipse of the sun
Well you're where you should be all the time
And when you're not you're with
Some underworld spy or the wife of a close friend
Wife of a close friend, and...

Hard, for a simpleton like me to relate to this... The closest I ever got to a Lear jet was one night I won just over a grand at the Ameristar... had had one or two more than I shoulda, and hailed a $45 Yellow cab back to Liberty. (Only to awaken, beg a friend in the morn for a ride back to get my car.)

You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you
You're so vain, I'll bet you think this song is about you
Don't you? Don't You? Don't you?

I don't do real good with conceit. All men are created equal, it's just seemingly sometimes some men/women, don't believe that, in spite of all life's examples that go right over their head.. the silver spoon they've been fed with, or the skewed perception that they are actually "better"... .

You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you
You're so vain, you probably think this song is about you

You're so vein, or perhaps not. Last 8 months, pretty good pain in leg if I walk from one side'a the Piggly Wiggly to the other.

Arterial Doppler on legs this morning, followed by phone call 6 hours later from doc's office "found some blockage... we're setting u up with an appointment with a vascular surgeon."

I had some dreams, they were clouds in my coffee
Clouds in my coffee, and... perhaps I ain't so vein. We'll see..

Love, Victurd

Don't worry be happy...

Here is a little song I wrote
You might want to sing it note for note
Don't worry be happy
In every life we have some trouble
When you worry you make it double
Don't worry, be happy......

Sometimes frustrating to sit here, wanna write - but the brain struggles to come up with content that would keep a reader awake.

As I was taking my Sunday drive - I thought about 'examples'.. So I was all perked to write about people in my life that have been good examples.. Rod White, former PE teacher who taught us all "take interest in children's lives".. Grundy Newton, who couldn't have been a better example for us young men on how to carry ourselves - make proper, sound decisions.

Then I thought "nah, that would bore people. Some would have no idea whointhehell those folks are, and it's doubtful if the purpose of 'Who in your life was a nifty example for you' would be parlayed."

Ain't got no place to lay your head
Somebody came and took your bed
Don't worry, be happy
The land lord say your rent is late
He may have to litigate
Don't worry, be happy
Look at me I am happy
Don't worry, be happy

As I turned the corner - and had just about given up on the idea of 'example', I thought of George Franck - a Santa Claus sized man (HS English Teacher) who NEVER was without smile. I remember now - that perhaps he was the one that taught me "Have fun at work" - because he did. His thirst for fun was quenched daily.

Here I give you my phone number
When you worry call me
I make you happy
Don't worry, be happy
Ain't got no cash, ain't gotno style
Ain't got not girl to make you smile
But don't worry be happy

Then my sister popped in my head, as she does so frequently. Biased of course, but she packed more into her way-to-short life than any person I've ever known. And,she did it all 'with smile'.

Cause when you worry
Your face will frown
And that will bring everybody down
So don't worry, be happy (now).....

There is this little song I wrote
I hope you learn it note for note
Like good little children
Don't worry, be happy

All this 'thought', 'consternation', 'coming up with the right thing to write' went into this old crock's crockpot of a brain - and was condensed: happiness. I love happy. I love smiles on the faces of ANY aged person.

Whilst a BS in Education certainly gives one a platform, a megaphone, receptive eyeballs - it doesn't have to necessitate that to be an example for "happy."

Feller walked into Perkins this morning with his buddy.. they both 60-ish. As they took the trek behind the hostess to find their booth, she asked for their choice.......... "redhead"... he continued walking... "nineteen"... s'more steps toward the booth.. "doesn't speak English"..

The guy gets it. I try Lord, I do. Happy rocks. Happy is a feel good. I wish happy on us all. I love 'happy examples' - they serve as reminders on how fleeting our time is here - and how we should choose to use it. I'ma pickin' and I'ma grinnin'. Don't worry, be happy. Love, Victurd.

Are you OK?

Visiting recently with a lifelong friend.. he'd been visiting with another of our lifelong friends.. she'd asked "Is Vic Schultze ok?"

In response, and in counting on the same question being asked of you........

Yes, I'm ok. You??

I'm much better than the guy on the motorcycle that perished on the Kit Bond Bridge this morning. I'm much better than the guy on I-35 in rush hour tonight, had car trouble... got his vehicle to the side of the road, only to be obliterated to heaven by a passing 53-wheeler.

I'm much better than my 94 year old aunt, bless her, whose pacemaker recently quit working.. and in her hell bent way, hours after the surgery, shoo'ed everyone so she could STAND UP and walk to the restroom.

I'm better than Vince Young and Terrell Owens, victims today of "the Turk" (ie, cut by NFL teams.)

Being almost 60, do I have a wonderful retirement, the same lady holding hands for almost 40 years - no, but I'm ok. If you are in this group, consider yourself blessed - but it's not the norm.

What exactly is OK? Is it David Glass, owner of the Royals who makes 8 digit profit (that's tens of millions) annually, but produces a team that finishes at the bottom every year? My only comment is, I do sleep well at night.

Again, OK is relative.. A) the commissioned sale's rep who made a sale representing six months pay in one transaction..? "B" (kinda sorta).. the high school kid whose folks wouldn't allow him to go to Prom because he'd just gotten a B- on his grade card? C) Your average Joe, making it thru another day.. D).. The father of the family of 8 whose van just shot craps.. F).. The person on the receiving end of the doctor's verbiage "you've got Stage 4 cancer."

Walking/living. We all do that. We, mostly, hide A/B/C/D/F well. Oh sure, if it's folks, relatives/loved ones we're around tons, we/they can tell. Most can't. Most (I think) mask "no, I'm not so Ok" very well. Within that masking, I gain confidence in the fact they aren't spilling the beans, whining, complaining, finger-pointing, spouting "why me?"...

I admire those you simply can't tell. I admire those who have the internal courage to say "yes, perhaps life is dealing me a blow, but I CAN/WILL take it." I admire those who know good comes after bad. I admire those who know, "Some days, weeks, months, years, are just gonna be crappy - I'll make it through."

I am admittedly happy, someone inquired as to "are you ok?"... Concern is a wonderful trait.

I genuinely hope you are OK. I genuinely understand and appreciate the things you've been thru, made it thru, are making it thru, to arrive upon that determination.

I hate (kinda sorta) going back here - but life likens the Mole Game at Chucky Cheese. Shit (sorry Don/Louise) happens in life, continually pops up - and we have a choice to melt, give up, end our lives, or.......... grab that damn mallet and say "I am/will be OK, take that, you little mole bastard!"

Are you ok, doesn't involve divulging "on a scale of 1 to 10"... Meeting the eyeballs of the asker, choosing to smile, replying "yes, I'm ok" lends that one is much closer to 10 than 1.

It's my bet even Michelangelo could have cared less about "that perfect canvas"... and that he had moments he simply wanted to take his brush, dip it in the paint and FLICK it as hard as he could at the easel.

Victor, you typed, a whole lot... maybe too much.. as usual.. but are you Ok?

My pat answer recently has been "yes, but do you know any single/divorced/blonde/rich fitty-two year old females?.. And in all seriousness, yes, I'm fine, and I truly am thankful you asked.

I hope all of you are Ok as well.

Love, Victurd

Chances are....

Chances are cause I wear a silly grin
The moment you come into view
Chances are you think that I'm in love with you

I love the word "Are"... Try looking the definition up online, I believe you'll be truly as confused as me - ceptin' we each know it's usage... when to.... why too...

Just because my composure sort of slips
The moment that your lips meet mine
Chances are you think my heart's your Valentine

Are you lonesome tonight (song for another day)

How are you? (Do we MEAN it? Idle chit chat? "Mandatory" cause we crossed paths and we threw on that "You'rea pickin' and I'ma grinnin' face?.. or do, we REALLY REALLY care about how they are?..)

In the magic of moonlight
When I sigh, "Hold me close, dear"
Chances are you believe the stars
That fill the skies are in my eyes

Are you sure? (We spout when given a gift, something unexpected... something we are damn leery of, but they're the boss - so we seek fortification)

Are you kidding? (We know this person, they've "got us" before... something incredulous, unbelieveable.. and perhaps excitement mode, jubilation to follow)

Guess you feel you'll always be
The one and only one for me
And if you think you could
Well, chances are your chances are awfully good

"My lips are sealed".... (Wait till I logon to FB... go on break with my coworkers.. logon to that http, the slashes, hotmail/yahoo/gmail... secrets are hard to keep.. there's that damn 'are' word again.)

Chances are you believe the stars
That fill the skies are in my eyes

My hands are tied.
Whose side are you on?
Battle lines are drawn.
Until you are blue in the face.
The lights are out but no one is at home.
Soneone's eyes are bigger than their stomach.
The way things are going.
Usedta couldn't spell supervisor, now I are one.

Guess you feel you'll always be
The one and only one for me
And if you think you could
Well, chances are your chances are awfully good

Are you sure? Are you lonesome tonight? Are you ready for
some football? Are you friggin' nuts? Ever eat a pine tree? Some
parts ARE edible,

The chances are your chances are awfully good.

We use "are" a lot. It's a key to unlock minds. "Are" is a psychological
ploy wanting to make sure folks "think it over"... Whatever it is they ARE about to do. Have done. ARE gonna.

I are proud to be an American, God Bless the USA.

Victor, you haven't blogged in awhile, but ARE you sure you wanna hit 'send" on this one?

I are. Love, Victurd

Let it all hang out.....

A preachment, dear friend
You are about to receive on John Barleycorn
Nicotine and the temptations of Eve

Repeating, I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome.

It's weird, when I get in down moods, or up moods, the end is always the same. I try to think back, from today, last week, last year, twenty years ago, life as a kid on things that made me happy. Therapeutic it is.

No parkin' by the sewer sign
Hot dog, my razors broke
Water drippin' up the spout
But I don't care, let it all hang out

Rough day at the office? Minor fender bender? More bills than bank? Someone say
something that really stung?

I close my eyes and see good. I remember my childhood, and the great times within. I remember my nuclear family, remembering them vividly, but only wishing I'd paid even greater attention as they all checked out too GD (gosh darn) early.

I see parts/behaviors/actions/physical things in me, that somehow kinda keeps them alive. And then I don't feel so down. In fact, I get elated when something transpires and I JUST KNOW what my sister's, mother's, father's reaction woulda been, and it usually includes a smile.

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

Work has really gotten me down of late, and perhaps erroneously. We can't keep up. I've had one day off since April, and stupidly feel sorry for myself. Ya know what Victor? There are MANY sitting at home, no job, maybe a job, but, to the tune of 8, 16, 24 hours a week. You're a lucky bastard. Think, remember: good.

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

We look for life's imperfections, and as we do we fly right by what's so good about life. We bemoan co-workers, have to's, work load, traffic, incoming calls "whoinththell is this", waiting in lines.. we all have the tendency to focus on the crap, when we're virtually always surrounded by the good, and I forget that OFTEN.

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

Simple maybe, but every restful moment, I am going to try to pretend I'm in a reclining chair, and visualize yesterday. Sanford and I driving to Shakey's. Clay, Mouse TLG and I playing Indian ball at the City Park. Yes, even fond moments of whatshername #1 and whatshername #2, hell, that was 60% of my life, and happy
to report, 99% of that was very good.

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

An accomplished baseball player gets a hit three times out of ten. If only we could remember that as life flies by us.

Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out

The bad, yucky, ucky, patooie surfaces to our forefront. Squash them thoughts. Remember, visualize, SEE... GOOD. There's lots of it to go round.

Let it all hang out. Victor, you write too much. Don't care, let it all hang out.

Love, Victurd

Hurt

If you're so attuned to listen/read......

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l95D7leeU3w

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything

Needle = thoughts... yesterday.. knives (words) into the 'wooden fence' that forever leave a scar..

the times getting let down... the times of isolation when inspiration/occupation was so badly needed... The self-scorn, our ego's biggest deflator..

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

Everyone ultimately goes away... some way sooner than we'd like, some, circumstances not so desired.. some by choice, some by locale, some by occupation, some, by life simply passing/fleeting..

And I would never make you hurt....... with intent...

I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here

Words said, action's done... "Message sent" to put in 2012 perspective.. No repair.. No stopping words, emails, looks, actions, behaviors.. People change... we change.. I've changed.. Perspective changes.. age changes us..

situations change us.. "If I'd'a known then what I know now"...

What have I become
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

What have I become.. good question. Sometimes I don't know... Sometimes I am my own worst enemy,

other times it's like "you're messed up, look at what's right with me".. Lost, kinda.

Empire of dirt = apartment 68, Cherokee Village, Liberty, Mo. It ain't much, but it's me, and doesn't take much to make me happy as far as an abode. Again, no, Johny/Nine Inch, I won't make you hurt,

leastwise, not on purpose.

If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way

I'm not sure I could/would start again. Uh huh, I'd for sure like to get a base hit in old fart softball and not have to yield to "he's an old fart, we're gonna use a designated runner"... but not sure I'd go back.

Blessed it's been. Not perfect, but blessed. Way more fortunate than many, I know. Hurt comes to all.

I hurt myself today........ to see if I still feel..

Love, Victurd (and I do...... still feel)

Paths........

Perty nifty term. We all have paths in life...

My 19 month old granddaughter, her path is erratic. Flitting about, around the coffee table.. walking/stepping over her g'pa's outstretched legs as he lays low to the ground reminded "get down on her level." She makes a trek down the path to pickup the empty plastic Piggly Wiggly sack, and presents it to him as if it were a trophy.. Cool. Then she flits about and finds a fourth of a graham cracker she'd just devoured 3/4's of, takes a nibble, and again, hands it as a trophy to grandpa. The best.

Many paths in our lives. The Facebook Timeline is about as popular as Rex Hudler from an avid Royal's fan's view, Obama, from a conservative's view.. and Michael Vick, from a PETA person's view.. yet... it is a compilation.. it is a cumulative review, of life.

Had we had FB timeline from day 1, we'd all be saying "no frigging way I've taken this path". Sorry. Way.

Eons ago, before roads.. cars would traverse from here to there.. light bulbs clicked (That doesn't make sense Victor, there were no lightbulbs then).. .. OK, dudes observed, decided to fill in the tire trek paths with gravel. This, is how roads began. I made that up, but you might check Snopes, it could be true.

Base paths.. we mostly all remember Willie Wilson hitting one in the gap, legging out three... The Mick, flitting an infield single, sprinting down the path.. Lou Brock, whom the St. Louie Cardinals obtained and canned my all-time favorite left-fielder Charlie James in a trade for Ernie Broglio - and his many, many treks down the paths. I remember umpiring years ago. 9 year old lad "hit by pitch in arm". Limped, down the path to first base. Gotta love paths.

We remember the email about Jesus, the sand... four footprints for awhile... then two footprints in the path to the destination. When questioned, "I was carrying you."

On the eve of 60, divorced, mixed feelings about going down the handheld path again. Path of least resistance, "ride it on out, you'll be fine".. or, "Get all absorbed, and risk having one wonder off the path again." This is about the point where all you lucky ones who have been on the joint path forever and ever ask "yeah, but what if I woulda turned the other way at the fork in the road?"..

Bullhockey, the grass is greener on the other side 'cause there's likely more manure laid, the water bill to get it that green is ridiculous, and No the grass is always greener because you can't get to it. Everybody wants what they can't have until they get it then they don't want it. Kudos to your coupledom longevity, scoff the idea.

Work paths. Made a few wrong turns there - but damn, met a lotta nice folks, had some wonderful experiences.

Don't look back? With advance apologies to my Uncle Don and Aunt Louise who occasionally swing by here.. I'm of the age, singledom, if I see a 'looker' crossing my path, damn straight I'll look back once she's passed!

Looking at the path of tomorrow? Who knows? Some have planned well. Some, not so much. If you're like me, being 20-something, 30-something, I was "why worry about fitty, sixty-something.. that's forever from now?" Well, forever from now is here.

I very much enjoy the path I go down daily. If I drink 5 total cups of coffee at Habib's BP and get my card punched, I get a free one. My car gets 26 MPG. I now have AM radio (long story) and I love my Sport's talk (cepting Monday mornings when 101 the Fox gives an auto to a deserving vet, and I sob on the path into work. ) My 168,000+ car is a convertible, a friend suggested I was now a real 'chick magnet', har har, I'm closer to a walker for my path than being a chick magnet.

I like paved paths thru the woods. I like the less traveled paths. I take the path from home to Wally World via Pleasant Valley, and avoid the congested path. I see folks on life's path, and I wonder whatinthehell they're thinking. Conversely, they may be looking at me, and thinking the same dadgum thing.

Paths are fun. Paths can be coupled. Ran. Jogged. Walked. With canine. In good weather and bad. At one's own pace, direction.

Happy fork in the road to you. If you feel you mighta taken the wrong turn... forkget it.. Happy paths, the resta the way out, Love, Victurd

The pooch.....

I have a pooch....

I ain't proud of it, but, I ain't ashamed of it either.

When I keel, I wouldn't mind it if the service went something like this:

That Victurd.. he kinda lived life with trade-offs... He knew that eating, sampling, devouring, yummmy delectable's might give way to a pooch, but he figured "eh, not a bad trade off... "

He dreamed of JackStack pulled pork...... He pushed to the fronta the line at Arthur Bryants.. He regularly stopped by the "it's so-and-so's birthday at work, here, come eat all this crap" ten to twelve times a working day.

A hot Lamar's donut at 6am. That steamy cappuccino.. Apple pie, a huge breast at Strouds.. peanut butter cookies..

He didn't mind his belly. In fact, he worried when skinny folks passed that they chose not to experience, devour, yum, be selfish upon occasion.

Not Victurd. He never pushed away from the table. If it was "all you can eat", by God, he did that. McDonalds Big Breakfast with hotcakes - "might I get an extra syrup?".. a Frosty.. a Butterfinger... Zingers, yum, zingers.

What are you gonna do today Victurd? "Eh, it's free sample day at the Piggly Wiggly, then I ain't decided what, after."

Pecan pie - is this heaven? Brownies.. French fries.. Onion Rings.. Chili dogs.. Brats.. SAUSAGE.. CHEESE.. fried potatoes.. Did I say Butterfinger?.. Salted peanuts..... pecans.. CASHEWS when I had the extra fitty cents to buy insteada the salted peanuts - nuttin' personal salted peanuts, u pleased me many a day on the drive into work.

A good, yummy steak. A disgustingly fat tenderloin. BBQ ribs (enter cuisine orgasm here).

A la carte, appetizing, Au gratin, blanched, braised, buttery, caramelized, chilled, chocolaty, chopped, crispy, deviled, divine, dripping, fragrant, fried, heavenly, inviting, kosher, laced, moist, mouthwatering, nuked, piquant (Victor, that doesn't fit you.. bite me, I liked the word).. rare, scrumptious, seasoned, simmering, sliced, sugarcoated, tasty, titillating, yummy, zestful.

Ever eat a pine tree? Many parts are edible. Jk. Let's just say, Victurd lived life watching what he ate, in his own kinda way.

He thrived on "yum"... "too much"... "where's the Rolaids"... "why not?"

Once upon a time, he had a flatbelly - but the older he got, he didn't give a rats. Trade off. Pooch/delectable. Yum.

Time to go. Gotta swing by the fridge en route to bed. See what my fork can find. If only I had someone to spoon with. Victor, you're weird. Don't care. Kiss my pooch. Love, Victurd

People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Just because we get around (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (Talkin' 'bout my generation)

Black and white TV. Biked everywhere. Going to school, actually fun, looked forward to it. "Who's in my class?". "Mom, we gotta go to Mattingly's to get supplies"..

This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

The greatest musical era ever, hands down. You can find 12 local radio stations today still playing music from our time. Many remakes, sorry, just ain't the same. Fun too, to observe a young'n, listening to music from our era, bouncing a bit. The best era. WHB. 40 Star survey.

Why don't you all f-fade away (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
And don't try to dig what we all s-s-say (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm not trying to cause a big s-s-sensation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm just talkin' 'bout my g-g-g-generation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)

Brown eggs from granny's chicken coop. Brownies. Brown can. Brown spots....

Weekly Reader. Library. Books online. Whereinthehell are my readers, by God, I've got seven $1 pairs?

This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

Being taken care of as a child. Having, taking care of children. Doting, spoiling, grandchildren. Taking care of parents who for so very many years took care of us. Swallowing pride, getting help from our children.

Why don't you all f-fade away (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
And don't try to d-dig what we all s-s-say (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm not trying to cause a b-big s-s-sensation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm just talkin' 'bout my g-g-generation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)

Cloth diapers. Wash rags. Disposables. Wipes. Depends.

"Smooching".. hormone crazed. "The one." "Not now, the kids are awake." Tri-weekly. Tubal ligation/vasectomy. Try weakly. Blue pills. (VICTOR! Speak for yourself!).. Ahm.. I was.

This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

Goals. First job. Composing a resume. Struggling thru the 'this'll get me there' positions. Bottom of the totem pole. Asprirations, intentions, destinations. Ho hum.
Damn, the alarm went off.. is it really Monday?.. Finally reaching that point, I will never frigging prepare a resume again.

People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Just because we g-g-get around (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Yeah, I hope I die before I get old (Talkin' 'bout my generation)

Beggs. Breipohl. Woodys. Trails Inn. Safeway. Kroger. Schoellers. The Kuu Kuu. Hallisey's. Bedingers. Brants. Eisens (sp?). Mace. Co-op. Duncan Oil. Phil's.. . Chief's training camp. Bud's pool hall. Shelby's. TG&Y. Freverts. Kramers. Boggess. Then, big change.

This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

I know I've written this before, but, if you've noticed, I repeat myself. Yes, I repeat my self. To me, one of the niftiest, strangest, coolest, weirdest, most bizarre things is - if someone had sat you down back in high school, and related (perfectly) "now here is exacly how the next 40-some years of your life are going to go" I very much woulda protested, refused to believe, been in disbelief.

Class of 1970 (and, I think I can safely invite anyone that hang with our group from that era)... 7pm.. October 6th.. 1404 Canterbury​ Lane (Home of Betty/Denny (Reppert) Anderson. We'll gather and talk about this generation. A generic 60th birthday party. Come one, come all.

People try to put us down.... I've blabbed. I'm still playing softball, which is fancy for: bat in the lineup, catch one inning every two games. A few weeks back, we had plenty of players - so, I sat out, watched both games from our little "nest" beyond the right field fence. Young man, teammate, 24-ish.. had hurt his back.. sitting out too.. as he got up once, he spouted "Damn, I walk like a 60 year old man." Yes, I wanted to smack him, but I said nothing, and giggled internally.

People try to put us down. Talkin' bout my generation.

Hope to see you 10/6/2012. Victurd.

Earle Hagen...

Who is Earle Hagen?.. He is responsible for co writing, AND whistling, "The Fishin' Hole", the theme to the Andy Griffith Show.

The Andy Griffith Show ran from October '60 thru April '68, but it seems like it ran forever. Americana. A better day. Family. A simpler time. A world with no evil. Moral. Friendly. Laid back. Simple.

I remember.

I remember the family gathering to watch. I remember the era.

Whiffle ball. Mom's and a 5 cent pack of Kool-aid/sugar/pitcher/neighbor kids - what better? "First one to see the street lights on!"..."Owe me a coke!"

Hide and seek. Kick the can. Give up? "Allleee alleeee in free!" Mood rings. The Beatles. Ed Sullivan. Johnny Carson. Dean Martin, Bob Hope, Laugh In, NASA, the Peace Symbol. Chinese Fire Drills. Gum wrapper chains. Finding 4 leaf clovers. Bond, James Bond.

Honesty. Yes sir. Yes ma'am. No sir. No ma'am.

Enter Earle Hagen's whistling theme here...........

Polaroids. Black and white, with no conception, exception of color. (FYI seasons 1 - 5 B/W, 6-8 in color.) Very coincidentally, a transition of same in real life - and thankfully, we were too young to be "handed down" discrimination.)

Baseball cards with a clothespin on your bike to make cool noises as they hit your spokes as u rode. Iron on patches for holes in the knees of our jeans. No Game Boys, Play Stations, Nintendo, Leapfrog, cell phones, etc.... we had a hose and sprinkler.. two tin cans and a long string.. a slip and slide.. water balloons. roller skates..slinkies.. . roller skates nailed onto a sheet of plywood for a 'skateboard'... Chalk/sidewalk. Twister. Ouija boards. Superballs.

Chores. Worry upon Parent-Teacher conferences results thereof.. Respect.. If you got in trouble, word got around town "faster'n Facebook". If there was a ne'er do well around- word got out quick, and you avoided this person.

Little League - one game a week, the excitement was crazy (versus three games during the week, and tourneys on weekends, no idea who your opponents are)...

If the "twice the size" school bully slid off the teeter-totter in it's down position, there were no lawsuits. An older brother usually took care of it. Just the fact of even having teeter totters, yes, the era.

Town gatherings on Holidays. The Square. We had our Floyd. We had our Howard. We had our Snoozy putting gas in our car. We had town characters, just as Mayberry did. We managed to drive across town ok with just Stop Signs.

We waived at every other car. Girls played with dolls, guys played with marbles. Innocent. Teachers, coaches, were role models like Andy Griffith.

Who out there cannot smile, look back with good feel when you hear Earle Hagen whistle that?

I don't suggest, "we're better" (our age).. I don't suggest kids nowadays aren't special. OH MY THEY ARE!... I don't suggest "our time" was a better time than now. I am not saying kids don't have wonderful opportunities, role models today.

I will say, I couldn't have picked a better time/era to grow up in... and Mr. Andy Griffith, a piece of you will always live on within those of us from this era. You were our Grundy Newton, our China Slaughter.. our Mabel Weakley... Our Chief Collins.. Our guidance.

Enter Earle Hagen whistling here.

Love, Victurd.

For closure....... Dirty Laundry....

I make my living off the Evening News
Just give me something-something I can use
People love it when you lose,
They love dirty laundry

For closure. E style. I get on the Internet, yes FB in particular, and I see/read tirades by fellow friends about fellow friends without naming names and I think to myself "geesh, that's so stupid, and very ridiculous"... THEN, I get on here and blog doing the same GD (gosh darn) thing! Victor you're an idiot!

Well, I coulda been an actor, but I wound up here
I just have to look good, I don't have to be clear
Come and whisper in my ear
Give us dirty laundry

Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em all around

Very recently, I got ridda all things needed in a house.. lawnmower.. washer/dryer.. weed eater.. edger.. a bigass ladder... whatever is was that I needed to dump in a move from a 4 bedroom house, to a one bedroom apartment... but.. I got ridda even more than that...

We got the bubble-headed-bleach-blonde who
Comes on at five
She can tell you 'bout the plane crash with a gleam
In her eye
It's interesting when people die-
Give us dirty laundry

For way too many years, I lived in a house I never shoulda kept. Admitted depression (NO VICTOR.. NO dirty laundry) [sorry, if the truth hurts - bugoff! ] ahem, depression contributed to the "Oh.. the roof is leaking? Oh well.. the AC is out? Who cares..the hot water heater is inop.. ah, it's all good".. There usedta be four in that house... then three.. then two.. and for way too many years: one.


Is the head dead yet?
You know, the boys in the newsroom got a
Running bet
Get the widow on the set!
We need dirty laundry

You don't really need to find out what's going on
You don't really want to know just how far it's gone
Just leave well enough love
Eat your dirty laundry

Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down

Kick 'em when they're up
Kick 'em when they're down
Kick 'em when they're stiff
Kick 'em all around

A dumpster. I was excited to rent a 20 cuft dumpster. A house, with sheetrock falling due to leaks in three rooms (My cousin is my insurance man.. roof was old, not weather damaged.. I COULDN'T turn it it.. - I couldn't wait to get out. I filled that dumpster up with things from 'yesteryear' I'd been tripping over, rediscovering, been reminded of - that many a time I was on the edge with "I'VE GOTTA GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!" followed by more and more time, sitting, not doing anything.. I filled that sucker (the 20 cuft dumpster)to the very top - and whilst you can't leggo'a regret, I found I could toss 'nifty little trinkets and ahm "____ picked that out give it a good toss into the dumpster" - and I did. Cleansing. For closure, E style.

Dirty little secrets
Dirty little lies
We got our dirty little fingers in everybody's pie
We love to cut you down to size
We love dirty laundry

I'm in an apartment now. I now spend $600 less per month to live. I likes my apartment. It's me, who I am, what I be, today/tomorrow. So now maybe, anyone that traverses this goofy website - can mebbe better comprende the "write positive stuff to yourself Victor 'cause life IS really good" need, checkenginelight.blogspot.com happens/exists.

We can do "The Innuendo"
We can dance and sing
When it's said and done we haven't told you a thing
We all know that Crap is King
Give us dirty laundry!

I am refreshed. Rejuvenated. Selfishly, my new place is "all about me." Time. Way past time. Objects in the rear view mirror may be closer than they appear - but that's ok baby, I'm headed in the other direction. Dirty laundry, sorry, kinda, not really. I have AC now. My roof is intact. I can take a hot bath (yeah, sad eh?)..Hell, I might even have guests over now. I talk too much.. I type too much.. Dirty laundry.

The last exit from that driveway that day - a S-eatin' grin was plastered on my face. I'll be fine and dandy. Dirty laundry.. for closure.. E style.

Happy day.. if you see someone without a smile - ask 'em "whatinthehell is wrong with you?"... Seeya later 305 Lee Drive. I will/do remember the good times. It was time. Past time: for closure. Love, Dirty Laundry Victurd.

Be a fountain....

(Editor's note: A preachment dear friends you're about to receive on John Barleycorn, nicotine and the temptations of Eve.. to me, for me, welcome to tag along, and thanks - if you do so)..

Boss's boss took me to the Royal's game the other day. A very nifty thing, and I - extremely thankful... We walk into Kauffman Stadium near the outfield... come upon "Fast Beer" place.. damndest thing I'd ever seen. They had like three 'burner looking things'... they take a plastic cup, lower it onto the burner-looking-thing, somehow - a hole the size of a nickel is made in the bottom of the cup... the beer shoots UP, like a fountain... fills in a millisec.. and a magnet, the size of a poker chip drops down to stop the liquid from escaping. Like I said (I HATE when people say 'like I said', but) like I said, the damndest thing I ever saw.

But there I was.. I was taken to a place... no - wait.. that's a different song.. this one is beer fountain, not spill the wine...

Made a 180 degree turn toward the field, and nuttin' tween us and the playing field except some magnificent fountains. Kansas City is the city of fountains, and the Kauffmans captured that perfectly in their design of the stadium. Winds blew a much needed mist on us fans this hot, sultry day..

Fountains = uplift. I am extremely happy to report I've had three of the most wonderful compliments in my entire lifetime this past week. IF THEY ONLY KNEW. Fountains. I wanna 'pay it forward' and hopefully uplift another soon. Daily. Whenever I can.

Rex Hudler. He's presently the 'color man' on the Royal's TV broadcasts.. Much like any change, many don't like his antics. They're used to Frank White, Splitorff. Hudler is different. Upbeat. Occasionally zany. I don't get to hear him often, so I can't really address his talent, or lack thereof, but I can tell you I like him, his persona, his life.

Rex Hudler was a journeyman minor leaguer who finally made it to the bigs. A 14 year career saw him travel to 7 different teams, and 3 different countries. He always resurfaced when told "not good enough". Upbeat. Fountain.

He once took a june bug off his ballcap, and on a dare by his Cardinal teammate, ate it for $800.

You can knock Rex Hudler down. Witness the Yankees, the Baltimore Orioles, the Montreal Expos, St. Louis Cards, Yukolt Swallows, California Angels, Philadelphia Phillies.. and again by the Angels, this time fired as a broadcaster. Knocked down, he continues to smile, be upbeat, enjoy life. He's a fountain.

Rex Hudler and his wife have a child with a chromosomal abnormality. He and his wife started "Team Up For Down Syndrome", have raised thousands for public awareness, housing, education, job training, family counseling and health care for those living with Down Syndrome. He gives his time in every city he travels to. A fountain.

Rex grew up poor. His mother raised him. Her lifetime recommendation to him: Be a fountain, not a drain.

In spite of the blows life has placed on Rex, he chooses to be a fountain. He gets knocked down, but he gets up again. (Sorry Tubthumping, but I soooo like your song.) He smiles. He continues to be upbeat. He is a fountain, his mother should be proud.

Victor, be a fountain, not a drain. I'll try. Love, Victurd

Dave.....

Long, long ago... overhand softball.. onea the nicest teammates I've ever had: Dave. You could tell from Dave's build, athletic looks, he'd "been there" (ie, skilled, at one time).. but this was the dawn of his career.. routine fly balls became blooper reels.. swings that usedta SMACK, now whiffed. Racing toward a base now became very awkward, interrupted, jumbled, stumbled.

I wondered, to myself, WHY... why does he keep playing? No one ever said a terse word -and when good did happen, he was maybe verbally overcompensated....

Now.. I completely understand. Elvis, and any athletic skills I've ever had, have left the building.

"You'll never get that GD (gosh darn) glove off my hand! My skills will come back" I lie to myself. I HATE the bleachers, the bench, watching from beyond the fence in right field. I've had way, way, WAY too much fun in this endeavor.

Please Dandy Don... DON'T sing it! "Turn out the lights... the party's over."

I have a torn calf muscle. To walk more than a city block, I'm in writhing pain. I am blessed in that I can read the newspaper- and see the words without extending my arms, backing up toward Excelsior Springs - or wearing onea the many $1 readers I usedta own. I now see dang near perfectly. Ceptin', having eye lens implants where one eye is for close up, the other for long distance - plays hell on trying to judge a fly ball, catching a line drive whistling at your noggin a hunnerd MPH off an illegal bat. And (our secret) I'm old.

I wanna put my glove on my bike's handlebars, ride to the City Park and play Indian ball with Clay, Mouse & Sanford. I wanna go the Franklin and hear Dump Weston holler one more time "Strrrriiikkeee THREE... UR OUTTA THERE!".. Run across the street after the game to Mugs Up for an ice cold root beer. Coach is buying. I wanna go swimming after the game at the Balsinger's pool.

I wanna go play American Legion ball again in farm towns - where the stands are fulla townfolk, and the lights beam thru scadillions of flying bugs. I wanna wear metal cleats.. I want to remember what it's like to slide headfirst and get baseball chalk up my nostrils.

I wanna argue with an ump... hit a line drive... see someone making a great catch and get to run in from the outfield to slap a high five on them.. I wanna be a part of another walk off..

I wanna go where the women watch in their summertime attire. VICTOR! Sorry... kinda.

I wanna go back to overhand fastpitch, where we, and Philadelphia were the only cities in the US playing. I wanna, just one more time, play for the City Championship. Ok, so it was B Division, who cares!

I wanna travel to places with my slowpitch cohorts, lifelong friends. Play two games, have a three hour break, and the break was just as damn fun (if not more) than the games. I wanna sit in lawnchair and talk, for 6 hours about the 3 hours we just played.

I wanna yell out nicknames again.. Delbert... Gibby.. Tork.. Bass Arm.. Barney... Mose.. Toad.. Spike.. Rat... Mack.. Bones...

I wanna go to Macken.. Mid-America.. so many fields, hell I've forgotten their names and prolly couldn't even drive to 'em..

I wanna fly with my Eastern Airline coworkers to play in Airline Tourneys in Atlanta, Vegas, Phoenix, Dallas - again.

Now, however, I am Dave. Base'aballs been berry berry good to me.

I wonder how much a golf membership is at Cardinal Hill? Love, Daveturd.

Doors

Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out alone
Riders on the storm

I love the opening musical prelude on this. And true, in life, we're riders on the storm. Doors. Interesting topic, to me at least.

You walk into a store. People coming, people going. Folks you've never met in ur whole life. Who takes the time, or gives up their time - in opening/holding door for you, and vise versa.

I've got my own opine on this, and you know I have a big mouth (ie, type freely.). The ones that stop, hold the door for you, they "get it".. life.. Nice wins. Nice rocks. Recognition "I'm not in so bigga damn hurry in life, that I can't take this respite, hopefully draw a smile, or a 'thanks' ".. and an albeit feel good. Nice rocks.

Conversely, (mebbe), those that don't hold the doors - never learned 'nice' at home. Perhaps a few, self indulgent. Mebbe some with blinders - too many paths/plans/hurries in life - they ain't got the time, or "can't" take the time.. too busy.. to stop and smell the roses, garner a smile... a thanks... a feel good.. Hurry, must.

Then.. .there's the "late holders".. u walk in after someone, they open the door for themselves, go thru... the door is closing, then they remember the parental kindness lesson - they reach back awkwardly - hold the door for you... another feel good, reciprically.

There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirmin' like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play
If ya give this man a ride
Sweet memory will die
Killer on the road, yeah

Doors. At work. Called into Boss's office. "Close the door please." Bugs the hell outta me. We're a team. Shouldn't be anything said within, that another member can't hear. But, I like getting paid, so I do.

Doors - in life. Opportunity. And yes, when one closes, another opens. Sometimes it really sucks waiting for that pefect door opening, but patience lends true. Some make the perfect choice, turn.. others open many (wrong?) doors, after some have been closed.

Girl ya gotta love your man
Girl ya gotta love your man
Take him by the hand
Make him understand
The world on you depends
Our life will never end
Gotta love your man, yeah

Relationship doors. Woah. Initially, of course, they start out "lock that please".. followed by yum, yum, oh baby oh baby... then can lead to "don't the the door hit you in the ass"... or.. departure one day to never return... and yes, many, many make it through an entire lifetime in very good "door shape." Kudos, to those that have.

Yeah!

Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out alone
Riders on the storm

Monty Hall. Work. Spouse. Career path. Parenting. Timing. Economically. Mental healthwise.. Happiness-wise.. Lanes, avenues, roads.. paths.. Have we all made the perfect choice for "The Deal of the Day" behind door #1, #2, #3? Prolly not, but some certainly have.

Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm
Riders on the storm

Doors give us privacy. Doors give us warmth from the exterior. Doors give us protection. Doors give us choices, new avenues... Doors give us opportunity to make a new friend, be nice.

The Doors give us a reminder, life is fleeting. Some in life exit the door way too damn early. We're left with fading reminders.

Did't mean to leave the door ajar. May your door experiences be happy. Riders on the storm. Love, Victurd.

Moms.. this and that..

Having kids may make you smarter...

Diaper Changes: 7,300 by baby's 2nd birthday....
4.3 babies are born each second...

Kids: Modern moms average 2 kids (1950s: 3.5 kids; 1700s: 7-10 kids)...
2 billion moms in the World (82.5 million in the U.S.)..

July, most popular birth month... Tuesday, most frequent birth day..

Most Kids: Mrs. Vassilyev of Russia gave birth to 69 children between 1725 and 1765
Oldest Mom: Rosanna Dalla Corte gave birth to a baby boy when she was 63 years old in Italy in 1994
Heaviest Newborn: Signora Carmelina Fedele gave birth to a 22 lb 8 oz boy in Italy in 1955..

30 Pounds: Average weight gain during pregnancy
Baby Gender Gap: 105 boys born for every 100 girls..

Research suggests that moms who give birth later in life, live longer.

In the vast majority of the world's languages, the word for "mother" begins with the letter M.

80% of moms: The percentage of moms who are happy when back-to-school time rolls around,

TV moms... 58% The percentage of people who chose Clair Huxtable of The Cosby Show as one of the top five best TV moms in a survey conducted by TiVo. Rounding out the group: Marion Cunningham from Happy Days, Carol Brady of The Brady Bunch, June Cleaver from Leave It to Beaver and Marge Simpson of The Simpsons.

Fun mom quotes:
"The happiest families are those in which the children are properly spaced...about 10 feet apart. "
"Raising a teenager is like nailing Jell-O to the wall."
"Mommy brain: when your grey matter turns into grey hair..."
"Cleaning up with children around is like shoveling during a blizzard"
"Even when freshly washed and relieved of all obvious confections, children tend to be sticky."
"It's not easy being a mother. If it were easy, fathers would do it."
"Most children threaten at times to run away from home. This is the only thing that keeps some parents going."

Animal Moms:

A mother giraffe often gives birth while standing, so the newborn's first experience outside the womb is a 1.8-meter (6-foot) drop.

Just like people, mother chimpanzees often develop lifelong relationships with their offspring.

Kittens are born both blind and deaf, but the vibration of their mother's purring is a physical signal that the kittens can feel - it acts like a homing device, signaling them to nurse.

Elephants have the longest pregnancy in the animal kingdom at 22 months..

Possums have one of the shortest pregnancies at 16 days..

A female oyster produces 100 million young in her lifetime, the typical hen lays 19 dozen eggs a year, and it is possible for one female cat to be responsible for the birth of 20,736 kittens in four years.

Huh? Male seahorses can actually give birth to offspring. While this is normally impossible for human beings, Thomas Beatie, who had his gender legally changed from female to male, is currently the world's first pregnant man.

NOT SO MUCH: Harp Seals:
Mothers of these precious little ones are highly dedicated for the first twelve days. In fact, they do not eat at all during that period. Unfortunately, once the feeding is over, that’s it for mother-child bonding—she’s out of there, ready to mate again.
Unlike many other species with such abrupt weaning periods, the harp seal pup can’t go on to survive on its own yet. Instead it is left stranded on the ice for the next month and a half, leaving it incredibly vulnerable to predators. The babies will lose half of their body weight during this lengthy fasting period. Finally, when they are about eight weeks old, they are ready to swim and are finally able to start hunting for their own food. With a childhood like this, it’s no wonder that at least 30% of all pups die during their first year.

Bird infedelity: House Sparrows: While most women would be furious if their husband cheated on them, few would choose to take it out on any offspring that resulted from the infidelity. But that’s just what the house sparrow does — she seeks out nests of other females that mated with her partner and kills the resulting chicks. This way, her baby’s daddy will spend his time fathering her own youngsters. Just imagine finding out your mom killed your half-brother so your dad would spend more time with you.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Being a father - I have no way to walk in the shoes of a mother. Being a son though, has allowed me a wonderful peek into that special world of "mom." I was fortunate to be among those who use the verbiage "The Best".. For many, many years - it was bedtime ritual for our family to announce "Good night mom, you're the best mom in the whole world".. and of course it was followed by dad, sister, brother.. but mom was always the first one said.

The world would literally end if it were not for mothers - not only numberwise - but what would a world be without nurture, care, heartfelt concern? If the shoe fits, and you as well think "The Best" of your mom, and she's still here - please tell her so.. If she's not still here, then do as I plan to do tonight at bedtime... inwardly saying "Good night mom, you're the best mom in the whole world." Love, Victurd.

Ok, I'll try harder... or....

50 ways to please your mother (since it's almost that day.)

I don't like incrimination. And, in keeping with the 'in' words, no inference intended, not my intent.

Someone once stated the sentence below.. and again, insteada ratting, I'll just use multiple choice... It was either:

a) My 8th grade football coach.
b) Some guy I met for first time yesterday in aisle 5 at Sutherlands.
c) perhaps an ex
d) the preacher at the 2nd Baptist Church..

What'd they say Victor? Something to effect (affect?) of "You always have to be the good guy, even though that's not always the way it is."

So... as a reminder to me of that, I do hereby list some things into the future I'm gonna TRY to do, so I no slippy up again.

Open the door for someone.

Help someone whose car is brokedown.

Help someone for free.

Help a child learn.

Pay for someone behind you in line.

Make a new friend today.

If there's someone who made a difference in their life, let 'em now somehow.

Tell someone you hang with all the time how much you appreciate that.

Someone get an 'atta boy'? Add to it, recognize it, let them know "way to go!"..

Leave a generous tip.

Say "Good Morning"

Bring your coworkers a special treat.

Be kind to someone you dislike. MUST I? Yes Victor, it was on that lista crap you researched.. It said something like "Getting to know and understand him or her better might help you appreciate your differences. Before you know it you might actually have a new friend!" Remember "it's not always the way it is".. OK OK OK.. I'll try. Sup Howard?

Sing at a Nursing Home.

Touch. Not "that" kinda touch you perv... I mean like walking by a friend and extending your arm.. or walking by their desk and touching their shoulder. Victor, that sounds like one of your stupid ideas. Bite me. Must I do another multiple choice question?

Tell your boss he/she does a good job. MUST I? VICTOR -DAMNIT!

Renew an old friendship.

LOL.

Slip a $20 bill to a person who you know is having financial difficulty.

Let someone know when they "run past your brain." A simple "Hey, you ran past my brain, so I wanted to say "Hey".. "Hey"

Check on someone you know is alone. (Editorializing "Good one (nice Googling).. this is HUGE!")..

The problem is all inside your head, so said once or twice
The answer is easy if you take it logically
I'd like to help you in your struggle to be nice
There must be fifty ways to please your mother.

She said it's really not my habit to intrude
Furthermore I hope my meaning won't be lost or misconstrued
(You and your nice "even though that's not always the way it is.")

So I repeat myself, at the risk of being crude
There must be fifty ways to please your mother,
Fifty ways to please your mother.

Happy random acts of kindness. Happy Mother's Day. Forgive me Father for
I mighta (slipped) sinned. Promise to work on 50 ways to please your mother.

Love, Victurd.

Weather or not......

Blue skies smilin' at me
Nothin' but blue skies do I see
Blue birds singin' a song
Nothin' but blue skies from now on

Contrary to Willie, or Irving Berlin, or Ella Fitzgerald, or whoeverinthehell wrote this - nuh uh. The weather ain't always chirpy. Correlate, neither are we...

I never saw the sun shinin' so bright,
never saw things goin' so right
Noticing the days hurrying by, when you're in love, my how they fly by
Blue days, all of them gone
Nothin' but blue skies from now on

Mebbe there are some miraculous folks out there who always see sunshine (including those in love),
I prefer to think most endure all the temps, and TRY to think sunshine.

Blue skies smilin' at me
Nothin' but blue skies do I see Blue days,
all of them gone
Nothin' but blue skies from now on

Today, a dreary day here in the Midwest. Boomers perhaps remind us of a greater power, a better place. Sometimes though, life, and/or weather - make me wanna dive headlong into bed, throw a sheet, a blanket and two comforters over me, hence, stating "go to hell for a bit world, I just wanna be alone, I don't wanna whistle, smile, yap, email, text, answer the phone - whatever, I just wanna snooze and hopefully awaken to blue skies (and perfection - ha!)"

Blue skies smilin' at me
Nothin' but blue skies do I see
Blue days, all of them gone
Nothin' but blue skies from now on

Snow happens. Frigid occurs. Wind slows the path, or knocks you over. Caught in rain sends chills, a miserable feeling shortly after.. (Just ask my granddaughter.. her good intentions g-pa took her for a spin the other day in the convertible... "oh crap, I din't see that rain cloud".. followed by "you deserve this screaming at the toppa my lungs g-pa" until I could pullover and get the top back up.)...

Heat. Very hot. Fan can't spin fast enough. AC can't keep up. Can be immobile and still sweat. Drenched happens.

Blue skies smilin' at me
Nothin' but blue skies do I see
Blue days, all of them gone
Nothin' but blue skies from now on

Life, attitudes, traffic, work, people, sports, politics, luck, lack thereof - liken the weather. Unless your butt is parked in San Diego - it ain't never perfect. Yes, I'm aware that's a double negative, but sometimes weather (and life) propels doubly negative. Blog general intentions are to boost, cheer up, look for the positive. Sometimes, there ain't any overcoming cloudy, dreary, sleepy.

Wait a minute, it stopped hailing,
Guys are swimming, guys are sailing,
Playing baseball, gee that's better,
Muddah Fadduh kindly disregard this letter.

You tell 'em ya little snotnosed Annie! Love, Victurd

April musings....

Hope. We KC folks, every year, hope springs eternal. Baseball Ray, baseball. This year, even more hype, hope. "Our time." Eight losses in a row - sometimes, likens life. Down, down, down, down happens - inspitea which, you gotta remember simply how much fun it is to stand and sing "Take.. me out to the ballgame.. take.. me out to the crowd."

Conversation... friends.. "What's been your favorite 'decade' of your life? 0-10? Teens? 20's? 30's? 40's? 50's?".. After some seemingly deep thought, the general consensus was '20's'.. Makes sense I spose. The newfoud adulthood, coupled with the still attached childhood invigorism, topped off by "no parental responsibilities yet" (not to mention raging hormones).

Annuder conversation: I highly recommend this experiment with a group of friends, no matta how well (or not) you know them: "Tell us something we don't know about you?". Fun the stuff you learn. 'Twas even funner when all the chicks got up to go to the restroom and we gents sank the conversation to hilarious, fun, lows.

The mole game at Chucky Cheese. I know I've mentioned this one before, don't care. You remember the game.. ya stand there with a mallet, and every time a mole pops up, you try to smack it down. Likens life too, and sometimes difficulties wading through, being a happy mole. I knew this feller, he told me he had a REALLY crappy week at work. I asked why.. He said "I ain't real sure why some folks are put in management positions.. the ones I've noticed, GREAT business savvy, no leadership skills. It's never "Catch 'em doing good" - it's always "tromp on them when you (seek and) find that mistake." I warned this feller to use caution, "cause I've heard of lawsuits, terminations from stuff put on the web." He told me "I don't give a rats, I tire of being their mole." I told him he was either brave or stupid.

Uplifting. April is pretty decent for uplifting. Ya drive around town, ya see activity. Thoughts turn from "it's cold.. let's get home.. eat dinner.. watch TV.. observe the gas meter dial racing"... to "whatinthehell can we go do now?".. (Excitedly) "whereinthehell can we go now?".. "Let's thinka some new places, things to do.".. "I'll go grab my shorts/T-shirt/sandals." "Top down?".. "SURE!"..

April is kinda a new beginning. Change. Again, hope. Excitement. Invigorism. "Can't wait!".. Planning. Doing. Going. Interaction. Alive.

April is a great reflection time for us old turds. We see the kids go/do, and it kinda-sorta brings back our childhood. For certain, our smiles. Our "I remember when I could do that." A pep in the step. An excitement to awakening daily. Happy folks. April is contagious.

Got abouta third left of April. May you go/do/have fun until May - and continue throughout the course of the summer. I'm sure gonna try. Love, Moleturd.

Coincidence?

Attended the "Celebration of life" of one taken from us much too soon yesterday. A beautiful service. Into the car after... now the hard part starts for the family.. or was the 'service' over?

Started car, radio comes on, first thing I hear is "Angels"... Baseball game, Angels versus Yankees... switched to FM...... "Stairway to Heaven."

Angels Stairway to Heaven. Coincidence? I don't think so.

Hoppy Easter......... Eggciting!

In spite of my eggspanding waistline, I drove past the gym where I eggsercise (it's closed for Easter, my eggscuse) and did the Mickey D thing, Big Breakfast, hot cakes, sausage, scrambled eggs, all the eggstra's.. and "may I have an eggstra thing of syrup?".....

Drove to see granddaughter, took the normal eggsit, gotta see her eggscitement eggspressed with a grin from ear to ear as she dug into her candy basket - full of suckers, jelly beans, and of course Easter eggs... Eggstatic she was. My eggswife even had a pillow puppy for her, matches her bedsheets eggzactly. Her eggzuberance eggsceeded my eggspectations. Eggzactly what this old man needed.

I eggzceeded my stay, drove home... thought to myself "today is quiet.. nothing really to do now, nowhere to go.. mebbe I should blog..".. Struggled in doing this, nothing really to eggspound. Hard to eggspress my feelings.

Could talk about the pleasure of simply eggzisting, and how one should be eggstremely happy just for that simple fact, but I've done that one.. already eggsplained that I am eggstatic daily when I awaken.

Looked around house. Eggstreme makeover? Nah, not motivated to that eggstent, sorry eggspectations.

So just what do I wanna eggspress... how can I eggspound on that... (no eggspletives Victor, you do too much of that shit.) yeah, ur eggsactly right.

You could eggstol praise upon coworkers, at your job where you eggsport Military members household goods. Nah, that might come off as if I was trying to eggzude to the eggzecs that I was begging for eggstra pay. Besides, some of 'em prolly don't even know I eggsist.

It is eggstremely eggzasperating to sit here (at monitor) and stare at a blank page where no words eggsist. Eggshale. My brain is about to eggsplode. (Like walking on eggshells here)...

Victor, this ain't an eggzam, just eggspress what you feel... eggsert some energy. Sorry Charlie, hard to eggstract thoughts. My brain is old... almost eggstinct.

EGGSTRICATE Victor, EGGSTRICATE! Be an eggztrovert. Eggzhort!

Wow... this is becoming like an eggzam. Trouble eggspressing thoughts. I'll be eggstatic to get the hell outta this one.

Time has eggspired. Eggzodus time I think. Sorry I wasn't eggciting. Eggstremely apologetic. Ineggscusable. Some eggzample I set eh?

It's ok Victor. Today (and today only) we'll make an eggception. No egg on your face. We won't eggzecute ya.

Whew, thanks... I can't eggzpress that enough... You're no bunny until some bunny loves you - and I feel the love. I am gonna get the heck outta here... Qouting Snagglepuss - eggzit, stage left...

Hoppy Easter - may it find u all eggstatic. Love Eggturd.
(Ya shoulda seen spellcheck on that one!)

Radiators... life.......7/3/2005

I just took off my shoes... used my toes and fingers to determine, this is the 1,168th blog I've ever written.

The very first was written on July 3rd, 2005, which oddly, is my only child's birthday.

Thus far, I'm up to 3 'followers', which translates to - by the time I'm 80, at three every six years, I should have 13.5 readers. And, when you think of being age 80-something, it very much makes the .5 all that more understandable.

Radiators? Symbolic, to me, of life and how we handle, go through. You can go down I-435 at 70 MPH, run like the wind, but, if you overheat, have too much pressure, you're suddenly on the side of the road... cussing, frustrated, that 'something' an inch and a half thick could play such a large role in your transit...

I liken radiators to crying. (NO Victor, not another blog on crying! Many already think you're one'a the wimpiest here already, and if you keep it up, they may even accuse you of being a Fiji insteada a Sigma Nu!)...

Sorry... it's me.

Our radiator, we never think of, until there are problems. We don't think much about problems, until we cry.

Most radiators, there's a release valve. Same thing in life. Our person. Occasionally, we haveta pull that car over to the side'a the road, open the hood, lift the release valve... relieve the pressure.

Life, when 'weird' things happen... self pity... things not going exactly as ur damn daily horoscope indicated it would... tail tucked between legs due to something offensive/hurtful said about you by one.. a loved one, speaking prior to thinking about what they were about to say...

We overheat. We blow a gasket. We spew. We sit on the side of the road not knowing whereinthehell to turn next.

We go through a visitation line.. we meet up with the 80-something year old father of one'a your best friends, who's just lost his spouse of 60+ years - the thermostat gauge is going nutso, you try not to allow the radiator cap to blow - you get past... walk a bit.. and then you spew... u basically lose it.

That's feel. And feel is/can be a very good hurt/feel good thing.

Of course, there's also the very good cry, and about all I can correlate that to a radiator is having the damned thermostat finally kick in to spread warmth allover you, the interior of the car.

Simple looms large on this. Could be simply watching your grand kid. Could be watching your kid watch your grand kid. Could be seeing a friend in a proud moment. Could be listening to the radio when they give a Military member in need a free car. (Damnit Victor, you sap.. I've seen you crying twelve times driving down Highway 71 this past year listening to that radio station as they do that.)

Could be a moment... where you simply stop and think about nuclear family, or extended family.. they're now gone... and, you well up, not so much in self-pity, but more - thankfully - that you've got these great memories embedded in your brain - you wanna shout/share, but simply when these mems surface to the forefront of your brain - it's a well up kinda thing. It's ok radiator, we've got more coolant for replacement.

Crying is feeling, and can be an appreciation for 'what once was'.. Victor, you've said that before. I don't care. You can't steal my past. You can't alter my past. You can't make me think differently about my past. My past is my present - and if that occasionally means having the radiator overheat - so be it.

Pressure. Life puts us into moments of pressure. We each react differently. I could give a rat's ass if anyone knew, upon occasion, I was lead to tears. I would also love to relate (and i promise to try into the future to do so) when I see happy, good, OMG, that makes me well up - and want to relate that to the ones making me elated.

I've rambled, sorry. Gauge past mid-point of cold to hot. I get on FB, read some of the things people write, sometimes think "Why? Whyinthehell do you air your dirty laundry here?"..........

Then, I blog, and probably do the damn same myself. I reckon don't care tonight. Have keyboard, will type.

Check ur fluids often. Keep a fitty-fitty mix. Know, "hey, sometimes overheat happens." I personally hope you are able to cry in good times and bad. In good, triumphantly, and in bad, hopefully remembering to simply 'feel' can be a very good, therapeutic thing.

Finger on the release valve, love, Victurd