Aging has made me take notice....

The body, 'she' changes. I had an ole' Chrysler LeBaron.. Sat so low to the ground, getting in and out was an experience in and of itself. In fact, I kinda felt entitled, like I didn't have to go to the gym that day 'cause I'd already had my exercise simply getting behind the wheel and back out. I 'talk' to my body as I 'tumble' in/out, but it hasn't listened, paid attention, behaved for some ten years now. As I bend, twist, gyrate - balance sometimes goes - and I'm forced to simply laugh - like, "oh shit, I hope no one saw that!"..

Same thing with undies. Huh? VICTOR!!!! No, for real, it's never happened to you? You put your right foot in... you raise the left leg, but age doesn't allow you to cooperate and place it inside, so again, the balance goes - and you find yourself hop-hop-hopping the old age hop on one foot (naked) - your hand eventually finds a wall for balance. Not a good "selfie" moment, but - you giggle and realize, age has made me take notice.

You go into a large store, you know, like WalMart, or Piggly Wiggly.. you see sooooo many younger folks, you take it upon yourself to "by god, I'm gonna walk aisle by aisle until I see someone older than me." You eventually end up in the Lawn and Garden department, remember you live in an apartment - and ask yourself "now what in the hell was I looking for?" Age has made me take notice, notice?

You walk around a corner at work, a coworker pops outta nowhere, so you swerve, scrape your arm on a door jam mildly - wake up the next day and you've got a 4" by 6" black and blue thing on your arm that looks like you just left the ring from an MMA battle.

Like a good boy, you attend the optional health screening thing at work. BP, a little blood taken, and finally height, weight, and waist measurement. One, I've shrunk. Two, I weigh more, but "by god, my pants ARE, and always have been, a 36".. "You don't need to measure my waist ma'am, it's been a 36 for eons" I think to myself. But she does anyways.. "HEY WAIT! YOU'RE MEASURING AROUND MY BELLY BUTTON, NOT MY WAIST" I yell, to myself. "Ok, 41" sir." CRAP!.. Age has made me take notice.

To Do lists, Pocket organizers, IPad reminders, have been reduced to "Eh, I'll do that tomorrow." One of the nicer things about old age, choice of what one does. I call it the (close your ears) "I don't give a shit what anyone else thinks, when I do (or don't) get it done - my pace." Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week - borrowing from Frank, "I did it my way."

Flatulence happens. OUTTA NOWHERE! Walking across the room at work (on this the fourth trip to the john this morning) and flatulence (audible to 6 nearby coworkers) happens. You giggle. Scrape your heel on the tile in hopes of fooling coworkers, continue on, and realize, age has made me take notice.

Inchlong eyebrow hairs. Half inch hairs protruding from your ear lobe. I HATE GOOD LIGHTING! Embarrassed, you clip, pull, giggle, and realize, age has made me take notice.

Watching friends, loved ones in health battles - at least ONE area of my life I've cleaned up. I eat better, wiser. But, mebbe once a week, I cheat. A Snicker's bar, yum. That all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet @ HyVee - HEY, it takes awhile to read the Sunday paper, I might as well be busy eh? It kinda feels like I'm getting away with something.. Like driving to an 18 bar in HS, or mebbe skipping 7th hour and not getting caught. Age, has made me juvenile in some ways. I've taken notice of that, and I really don't care what anyone thinks.

I've sat in this chair, continuously now, for some two-plus hours. A pile of laundry, an unmade bed, and an empty fridge stare at me. I'll get to it. Later. Maybe. Sometime.

Aging fortunately doesn't tell the brain to 'think old'. Aging adamantly tells one, "by god, I can still do that." He/she said I was too old to do/for that? HA! Watch me! Other day, up popped a picture of that new waterslide in town, THE tallest one in the world. I argued internally as to whether or not I would/wouldn't go for it. Long about that time, a gal three years older than me in HS wrote "Count me in!" I love aging, kinda, often, mostly, sometimes.

I've got to go now. (Victor, you've already peed five times and it's not even nine am.) I know, aging has made me take notice. No, I really HAVE to go. "Cause I think I'm gonna sit here a couple more hours in front of the computer and do nothing. Pretty important stuff (choosing) when you're old.

May you all have old age, giggle moments. Better to have them now than to withhold them, and find yourself one day be looking up at sod, thinking "I shoulda laughed at myself more."

With flatulence, brownspots, protruding hairs, procrastination, hop-hop-hop, Love, Victurd.

Fathers.......

Stick an 'r' in there, and the definition goes farther. Yes, on this day we stop and think of our own fathers - and of course, I'm in that boat.

One paragraph (only), I promise:

My father was happy. Lived, without knowing so, as an example. Found humor where others might fret. A knack for making those around him feel comfortable. A tag team parent whose philosophy was "Well, if you wanted to do it, and we could afford it, and it wasn't hurtful to you - we were amenable." Always drove 5-10 miles under the speed limit (sister and I would clap if he ever passed a car on the ole' two lane highways), loved cooking, singing, and an occasional Budweiser. Loved acting, and continued that role in real life. Could/would tell a ten minute story, leaving you wondering "where is this going/is he making this up", glued to him, knowing full well he'd "gotten you" before - eventually closing with a long premeditated one sentence punchline - that on more than one occasion brought laughter, along with a sometime a "Oh sh%, Bud!", a smirk, and a look of wonderment.. (Got me again!) I miss him, and in a way (hopefully), he lives within.

Other fathers. As a kid, young adult, coworker, friend, teacher, coach, umpire/referee - I've been very fortunate to observe many wonderful fathers (And certain you feel this as well.) There is nothing like the father/daughter bond - witnessed by the many Father/Daughter Wedding dances posted on the internet. Proud. Father/Son, a game of catch, fishing, changing the plugs on an old Chevy, lessons of discipline, respect - and by example the right way to treat a woman.

"Our" era, the tail end of the mom at home, dad at work thing. Perhaps we took mom for granted - for attention always turned to pop when he eventually came home.

I love the pictures, remembrances, kind things people display - about their fathers. I love the way girls/women, say "Daddy" with the such affection. Daddies become grandpas, and allofasudden, relive. Had an uncle whom I never saw without him holding one of his granddaughters in his arms. The bond is passed on a generation.

Moms as dads. Along the way, I've witnessed all too many children having their father absent from the picture. Most, with little or no child support - '"fought the battle" admirably, and wonderfully picked up the slack in being both mom/dad, as well as breadwinner.

Too, grandkids without dads (and moms).. Being 61, I CANNOT imagine raising children, but witnessed many a grandparent who does/has - and without chagrin. Many different reasons, abandonment, death, immaturity....I have friends who were raised by their grandparents - and somehow their love is extra special between.

Non-blood 'fathers'. Teacher, coaches, bosses, clergymen, friend's fathers, neighbors, etc. People who have taken an interest in a child/youth's development - setting father-like examples along the way. You hear it often, "he was like a father to me."

While "Father's Day" is specific (and truly is), it's also much broader. Farther.

I am gonna go lay down for 15, 20 minutes - close my eyes..reflect.. and think, of course, about my own father.. but too about moms that were/are 'dads'.. grandpas (and grandmas) who unselfishly raised/are raising.. and the many father figures that have touched me in life's passings.

Happy Farther's Day. Love, Victurd.

A fair day.....

I'm weird. I love words. Fair is a wonderful, diverse word.

We want educators, law enforcement, judges, politicians (ha!), parents, playmates, umpires/refs, to be fair. 3 year old granddaughter, heard it enough that (when playing with her one year old brother) bestows "Play fair!"...

We buy presents at Christmas time. Gotta make sure, to buy/spend equal amount on those we love. Two grandbabies, GOTS be fair. I go buy, lay them all out on the bed, decide "nope, he/she needs one more", go, buy one more. Now: fair.

We ride the Ferris wheel, eat funnel cakes, have livestock competition, rodeos, at the Fair.

We argue fair or foul. Now, it's decided electronically if protested. Hopefully, the dudes in NY that review - have larger TV's than the 5 inch monitor the football ref peeks his head into under that tarped tripod. That would only be fair. Or foul.

Forecast: fair, partly cloudy.

Fair grades. That was me! Mediocre sure, but fair! Gaining my undergraduate degree was probably the best six years of my life! Seeing these kids nowadays, athletes graduating in three years, Seniors in HS going to college already having 18 credit hours under their belt, holy guacamole!

California Chrome. More than a fair amount of publicity. A feel good story, horse didn't cost that much, trainer, 77 years old, first Derby horse.. two scintillating wins.. Belmont, final leg of the Triple Crown, not so much. Ran a good race, but not even in the money. Moments after, co-owner complained/lamented "NOT FAIR!". "Our horse ran all three races.. the winner rested two.. they're teaming up against us!".. Kinda dampered the feel good. Not fair, but happened.

Fair to middling. Fair and square. A fair shake. Fair enough!

Being a redhead, fair-skinned. I don't get tan, I get additional freckles. Not fair, but I'm fair, skinned.

Fair and equitable, divorce settlement. Some, in disagreement, go on, and on, and on, and on, and on... which, lends one to eventually think: hey, maybe it WAS fair.

Jury duty. Car wreck. Guy was speeding, at fault. Injuries. Fair and equitable amount due. How to decide? Twelve of us (I think it was.) All agreed "he owes", but how to obtain a fair amount? Scratch an amount on a piece of paper, throw out the high and the low, take the average. Fair? Dunno, but that's what we did.

Illness. Not fair. Bias, huh uh. Age, color, religious beliefs, sexual orientation, size, looks, dress - all 'judged'. Not fair.

Article in paper this morning. Young man out on the Lake, taken into patrol boat for liquor violation, handcuffed behind the back, lifejacket thrown over his head. Of course, still under investigation, not incriminating here. He fell overboard, drowned. Not fair. There is no fair compensation for death.

Another article about ALS, the Lou Gehrig disease. Not fair, but Lou, tragically en route to death, in a ceremony honoring him, harkened "today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth." The article related the heartfelt relationships of ALS victims, and KC area sport's legends. Chief's General Manager John Dorsey and his mother, Tom Watson and his caddy, George Brett and his best friend. ALS is not fair, but they all persistently work to raise funds, find a cure.

In discussing the unfairness of this disease (and terminal illness in general) - George Brett related he once asked Dan Quisenberry "Don't you ever stop and and ask 'why me?'. Quiz answered, "No.... why NOT me?".... Wow.

Buck O'Neil, a very, very good "Negro Leagues" baseball player was denied entry into the Major Leagues due to his color. By the time Jackie Robinson played, Buck was past his playing prime, but did later become the first African American coach. When asked if he was bitter, shoulda happened earlier. Not fair. Buck replied "I was right on time." Another wow.

Fair (the word) is beautiful, ginger, just, impartial, sunny, average and maybe unfair all in the same.

Fair time to stop, written enough. Happy day, love, Victurd.