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.