Back when one was five - and one had a question - it was mom/pop to the rescue. At nine, and you needed to know something, of course you relied on the twelve year old for answers... As a wet behind the ears college Freshman, it was the good ole Dewey Decimal System (IF the reference book was stored in it's proper place.)... All of the above, sometimes hit or miss.
Today, it can be Bing, Yahoo! Search, Ask, Wow, WebCrawler, Infospace - and of course the popular standby Google. So I Googled "how to stop negative thoughts/thinking" (or something like that.. DOES IT REALLY MATTER? Oooops, sorry, slipped)..
Lemme see, here's one with 7 steps.. another with 10.. (I'm positive the one with ten would be better than the one with seven, I think.)
I like to think of myself as a positive person - but oh baby oh baby do I have my moments... thus, I write/search/seek answers... ie, to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome.
#1. Meditate or yoga. Jumping to yoga, I think of 112 lb women in overly tight spandex twisting/gyrating in ways my body never could/would, so that's out. At age 62, meditation might last me three minutes before I would fall asleep - but hey, three minutes is three minutes eh?
#2. Smile. I likes that one. Happy breeds happy. Sometimes when you see the same person in smile (all the time) you wonder "I wish I knew what he/she was drinking, or taking" but - if you meet them at 7:50am in the parking lot on a 12 degree day and you see it (their smile) it congers up "hey, maybe there is something to this." Told before my smile is more like a "SEG" (u can figure that out) - I don't care, it's me/my way to smile.
#3. Surround yourself with positive people. A tad easier to do in real life/free time - choosing.. a bit tougher when at the mercy of an HR department. (And NO KIM, I don't mean you, I KNEW you read this!)
#4. Change the tone of your thoughts from negative to positive. "We are going to have a hard time adjusting to our living situation", huh uh, think "We will face some challenges in our living situation, but we will come up with solutions that we will both be happy with."... SWEET! Lemme try, "I dunno if I will make it to work before I pee my pants", instead, I'm thinking "I might have a hard time, but if I use solutions like crossing my legs..............".. uh oh. Brb.
#5. Don't play the victim. You create your life - take responsibility. I Will always have the choice to make change happen, if need be. Ok, comprende.
#6. Help someone. Shifts the focus away from you and you do something nice for another person. Reasonable, and a good idea.
#7. Remember that no one is perfect and let yourself move forward. "I felt terrible that I acted that way and that I wasted the weekend. The only thing I can do now is learn from my mistakes and move forward."
#8. Sing. HA! Haven't they heard me? I wonder what #9 is? Ok, ok - #8 is correct. I even tried it recently - and in spite of how crappy I sounded, I liked the end result, the message, the feel, the frankness. If I was writing the article though, I might term it "#8: Sing, or, listen to professional/inspirational singers." VERY good therapy for me.
#9. List five things that you are grateful for right now. Ahm, I made it to the bathroom and there WAS one roll left... my car started first time... it's my beautiful granddaughter's 4th birthday... I actually had my first date in, well, a long time.. - ok, two years damnit... I ate breakfast at HyVee and for doing so, I got an additional 5 cents per gallon off my next fill up on the wonderfully already low gas price (see, even I can learn/spout/accentuate the positive)..
#10. Read positive quotes. Thank goodness Todd Haley is no longer our head coach. You mean like "watch your thoughts, they become words... watch your words, they become actions... watch your actions, they become habits... watch your habits, they become your character.. watch your character, it becomes your destiny"?..
(Ok the ten thing list thing was good, but, perusing the seven thing list just in case something was left out.)
"The people who are the hardest to love are the ones who need love the most." Likes that too, although can be trying.
Stop thinking in extremes, all or nothing. Stop over-generalizing the negative... Don't minimize the positive... Stop mind reading.. Stop forcing your own rules.. Stop making stuff up and believing it.
Bottomline - certain I will still need help (but I'll get there. HA. SEE? Learning)..... I think it would be a good once-a-week thing to Google/Bing/Yahoo this same topic and make it a frequent, pleasant reminder.
I've rambled, sorry... kinda. Off now to find me a yoga class full of those 112 lb'ers in tight spandex... or, maybe I'll meditate instead.
I'm positive........... I think.
Love, Victurd.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Friday, December 26, 2014
Take a listen....
Christmas, of course, is just as much about the past as it is the present. I am very well aware I am (by far) not alone in having 'empty chairs' around the table this time of year..
As the sole survivor of the nuclear family I grew up in, I relate it as "I couldn't have hand picked a better family to grow up in, they just all checked out WAY too soon."
I very much miss my mother, father and sister. They are a part of me, I am a part of them - and again, almost everyone across the land shares in emptiness not only all year, but specifically (or maybe more emphatically) this time of year.
I, like most I'm sure, am very biased. My sister, as an example - trying to describe her to friends who didn't know her, or children born after her - there's no way to amply do so.
At my sister's funeral, her boss of many years, spoke for fifteen minutes on her life, her person, her business acumen - and the entire speech involved the humor she intermixed in her life therein, perfectly describing the life she led.. it was beautiful, it was teary, it (rightfully) involved 'fun/funny', and it was spot on, I was (and am) proud.
Am I weird to think "wow, I wish I had a recording of that speech - for when into the future someone might say 'Tell me about your sister' - I could simply go to the tape recorder and say 'here, take a listen.'
Gruesome, some might think. I think not. I guess I am just curious if anyone else has recorded eulogies - or wish they had. Instead of "You'd had to have known her", I could simply smile, push 'play', and say 'take a listen.'
Happy New Year, love, Victurd.
As the sole survivor of the nuclear family I grew up in, I relate it as "I couldn't have hand picked a better family to grow up in, they just all checked out WAY too soon."
I very much miss my mother, father and sister. They are a part of me, I am a part of them - and again, almost everyone across the land shares in emptiness not only all year, but specifically (or maybe more emphatically) this time of year.
I, like most I'm sure, am very biased. My sister, as an example - trying to describe her to friends who didn't know her, or children born after her - there's no way to amply do so.
At my sister's funeral, her boss of many years, spoke for fifteen minutes on her life, her person, her business acumen - and the entire speech involved the humor she intermixed in her life therein, perfectly describing the life she led.. it was beautiful, it was teary, it (rightfully) involved 'fun/funny', and it was spot on, I was (and am) proud.
Am I weird to think "wow, I wish I had a recording of that speech - for when into the future someone might say 'Tell me about your sister' - I could simply go to the tape recorder and say 'here, take a listen.'
Gruesome, some might think. I think not. I guess I am just curious if anyone else has recorded eulogies - or wish they had. Instead of "You'd had to have known her", I could simply smile, push 'play', and say 'take a listen.'
Happy New Year, love, Victurd.
Tuesday, December 23, 2014
All we are saying is give peace a chance...
One two, one two three four
Ev'rybody's talking about
Bagism, Shagism, Dragism, Madism, Ragism, Tagism
This-ism, that-ism, is-m, is-m, is-m.
All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance
Midway between our crisis of the 60's, and the present crisis - I was a 'transitional' (temporary) letter carrier in Kansas City, KS. I'm ashamed to admit, I was scared to start. The unknown? I was an idiot for feeling that way. What followed was beauty. The day the USPS had their annual food drive - I delivered mail to perhaps the poorest area in the city. I drove an old Ford Pinto - and the people filled that sucker to the gills FOUR times that day with canned goods.
A month or so later (and I apologize as I've shared this before) there was an old man, guessing 80-something.. more than halfway up a 16' ladder, sawing a limb off his tree. He happened to be white. Next door neighbor walks up, happened to be black - bearing one of those long poles with a saw on the end to give to his neighbor so he could safely cut from the ground. I felt more guilt for my initial fear of working in these neighborhoods... I marveled at that sight, and I thought to myself "I wish everyone could see this."
C'mon
Ev'rybody's talking about Ministers,
Sinisters, Banisters and canisters
Bishops and Fishops and Rabbis and Pop eyes,
And bye bye, bye byes.
All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance
Centerforracialharmony.org, Belleville, IL. Office of Racial Hamony, Archdiocese of New Orleans... Bridge Center for Racial Harmony, Saginaw, MI. The Foundation for Racial, Ethnic, & Religious Harmony, West Newton, MA. (And many, many more that are organized.. and perhaps even better, the ones not formally organized - like many workplaces across the land where harmony is 'the way')
Let me tell you now
Ev'rybody's talking about
Revolution, evolution, masturbation,
Flagellation, regulation, integrations,
Meditations, United Nations,
Congratulations.
All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance
Youth. We, the elders, are supposed to be the ones that teach. Ha! Go to virtually any park in the United States and watch children promote harmony in a world of difference. "We" should feel sheepish in our inactions, in not emulating/expressing, as their unbiased love does.
Ev'rybody's talking about
John and Yoko, Timmy Leary, Rosemary,
Tommy Smothers, Bobby Dylan, Tommy Cooper,
Derek Taylor, Norman Mailer,
Alan Ginsberg, Hare Krishna,
Hare, Hare Krishna
All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance
"Darkness cannot out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.".....
"Have we not come to such an impasse in the modern world that we must love our enemies - or else? The chain reaction of evil - hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars - must be broken, or else we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation."
"I look to a day when people will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character."
"We may have all come in on different ships, but we're in the same boat now."
"I just want to do God's will. And he's allowed me to go to the mountain. And I've looked over and I've seen the promised land! I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight that we as people will get to the promised land."
All, from Martin Luther King, Jr.
All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance
Ev'rybody's talking about
Bagism, Shagism, Dragism, Madism, Ragism, Tagism
This-ism, that-ism, is-m, is-m, is-m.
All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance
Midway between our crisis of the 60's, and the present crisis - I was a 'transitional' (temporary) letter carrier in Kansas City, KS. I'm ashamed to admit, I was scared to start. The unknown? I was an idiot for feeling that way. What followed was beauty. The day the USPS had their annual food drive - I delivered mail to perhaps the poorest area in the city. I drove an old Ford Pinto - and the people filled that sucker to the gills FOUR times that day with canned goods.
A month or so later (and I apologize as I've shared this before) there was an old man, guessing 80-something.. more than halfway up a 16' ladder, sawing a limb off his tree. He happened to be white. Next door neighbor walks up, happened to be black - bearing one of those long poles with a saw on the end to give to his neighbor so he could safely cut from the ground. I felt more guilt for my initial fear of working in these neighborhoods... I marveled at that sight, and I thought to myself "I wish everyone could see this."
C'mon
Ev'rybody's talking about Ministers,
Sinisters, Banisters and canisters
Bishops and Fishops and Rabbis and Pop eyes,
And bye bye, bye byes.
All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance
Centerforracialharmony.org, Belleville, IL. Office of Racial Hamony, Archdiocese of New Orleans... Bridge Center for Racial Harmony, Saginaw, MI. The Foundation for Racial, Ethnic, & Religious Harmony, West Newton, MA. (And many, many more that are organized.. and perhaps even better, the ones not formally organized - like many workplaces across the land where harmony is 'the way')
Let me tell you now
Ev'rybody's talking about
Revolution, evolution, masturbation,
Flagellation, regulation, integrations,
Meditations, United Nations,
Congratulations.
All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance
Youth. We, the elders, are supposed to be the ones that teach. Ha! Go to virtually any park in the United States and watch children promote harmony in a world of difference. "We" should feel sheepish in our inactions, in not emulating/expressing, as their unbiased love does.
Ev'rybody's talking about
John and Yoko, Timmy Leary, Rosemary,
Tommy Smothers, Bobby Dylan, Tommy Cooper,
Derek Taylor, Norman Mailer,
Alan Ginsberg, Hare Krishna,
Hare, Hare Krishna
All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance
"Darkness cannot out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.".....
"Have we not come to such an impasse in the modern world that we must love our enemies - or else? The chain reaction of evil - hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars - must be broken, or else we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation."
"I look to a day when people will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character."
"We may have all come in on different ships, but we're in the same boat now."
"I just want to do God's will. And he's allowed me to go to the mountain. And I've looked over and I've seen the promised land! I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight that we as people will get to the promised land."
All, from Martin Luther King, Jr.
All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance
Monday, December 22, 2014
Reallytired......
Tired: in need of sleep or rest; weary.... bored with.. no longer fresh or in good condition..
re: Once more..(reactivate).. with return to a previous state (revert)..
So, no comprende why retire is called retire. We work when we're tired. When we 'retire' it ain't "once more".. It (retire) ain't 'with return to a previous state'.. It should be reallytired.
Roy Williams, the famous basketball coach, tells his players (in reply to hearing "tired") "you're too young to be tired." I like that, I really like that. In fact, I repeat it to snotnoses (said lovingly) at work who mutter how tired they are. I'm AARP elgible. I'm SS eligible. I'm reallytired and wanna be reallytired.
It's hard, I think, to relate to people under forty, maybe even fitty, what it feels like to REALLY wanna be 'reallytired' (retired).. From day one, when we learned to march (silently) from our 1st grade chair to the lunchroom - we've been obligated to "do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign."
LinkedIn, no thanks. Resume', huh uh, ne'er again. 'Polite' (reminder) emails from HR hinting of admonishment if one doesn't "do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign" - paaaaaaaatoooooooey! Remind me, I'm tired, reallytired. I'm reallytired of being 'led'. (I looked up 'led, in a work situation' on "Vikapedia" and yep, there was a picture of a horse with blinders on it.) Ha! I wanna moonwalk (singing "ABC") from my desk to the cafeteria seat. I wanna attend only the last ten minutes of the two hour Long Range Planning Meeting. I'm reallytired. I wanna be reallytired!
I would miss the birthday celebrations. Uncle Don had a children's radio show from 1928 until 1947. One day, upon completion of his program, he forgot the turn the mike off and out slipped "THERE, that ought to hold the little bastards!".. EXACTLY, I'll buy a Mylar balloon once a month in memory of the birthdays,,, that ought hold the little bastards! (I josh, I love my coworkers, I'm just reallytired.)
I would miss the countdown (number of days until retirement) thingy on my cubicle wall I update when I get a 'polite' email, 'suggestion' from boss, list of new building rules (do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign"),etc... I guess, insteada the countdown, I could send automated emails to myself every six days reminding me to "Magic Eraser" the stool, tub, sink (not necessarily in that order.) I could have my printer automatically (sometime near the end of November each year) print an entire ream of "Roberts Rules of Order" to use as kindling to stoke my fireplace for the winter.
I'm on vacation. I could get used to this. I could enjoy one day being permanently on revacation, or reallyvacation. No alarm, no 'friendly' HR reminders, no "do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign".... why, I could even wear my undies and scratch myself on the way to the 'cafeteria' every day if I wanted!.. I could forward R and X rated emails to my buddies bypassing the intrusive IT department that presently adorns them to read "explicit language" on the receiving end. "No profanity, that shit ain't allowed here, do as I say, not as I do." Sorry, a reallytired moment. (I'll update my Cubicle calendar to 1,380 days to go when I get back.)
I gotta go.... again.. (It's an old man thing)... I hope you are reallytired. If you're just tired, then please do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign. No cussing. Do not pass go, do not collect $200 (Christmas bonus.. oops, slipped, sorry), and please put the lid down. (<-- Yes, we did get a company email on that.)
Bye now. Scratching myself enroute to the bathroom where I'll leave the lid up. Then, I'm gonna take a nap. I am really tired, figuratively to one day be literally reallytired. Sorry. kinda. The rebel in me snuck out.
Love, Victurd. ("WHAT BLOG BOSS? I don't have a blog!")
re: Once more..(reactivate).. with return to a previous state (revert)..
So, no comprende why retire is called retire. We work when we're tired. When we 'retire' it ain't "once more".. It (retire) ain't 'with return to a previous state'.. It should be reallytired.
Roy Williams, the famous basketball coach, tells his players (in reply to hearing "tired") "you're too young to be tired." I like that, I really like that. In fact, I repeat it to snotnoses (said lovingly) at work who mutter how tired they are. I'm AARP elgible. I'm SS eligible. I'm reallytired and wanna be reallytired.
It's hard, I think, to relate to people under forty, maybe even fitty, what it feels like to REALLY wanna be 'reallytired' (retired).. From day one, when we learned to march (silently) from our 1st grade chair to the lunchroom - we've been obligated to "do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign."
LinkedIn, no thanks. Resume', huh uh, ne'er again. 'Polite' (reminder) emails from HR hinting of admonishment if one doesn't "do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign" - paaaaaaaatoooooooey! Remind me, I'm tired, reallytired. I'm reallytired of being 'led'. (I looked up 'led, in a work situation' on "Vikapedia" and yep, there was a picture of a horse with blinders on it.) Ha! I wanna moonwalk (singing "ABC") from my desk to the cafeteria seat. I wanna attend only the last ten minutes of the two hour Long Range Planning Meeting. I'm reallytired. I wanna be reallytired!
I would miss the birthday celebrations. Uncle Don had a children's radio show from 1928 until 1947. One day, upon completion of his program, he forgot the turn the mike off and out slipped "THERE, that ought to hold the little bastards!".. EXACTLY, I'll buy a Mylar balloon once a month in memory of the birthdays,,, that ought hold the little bastards! (I josh, I love my coworkers, I'm just reallytired.)
I would miss the countdown (number of days until retirement) thingy on my cubicle wall I update when I get a 'polite' email, 'suggestion' from boss, list of new building rules (do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign"),etc... I guess, insteada the countdown, I could send automated emails to myself every six days reminding me to "Magic Eraser" the stool, tub, sink (not necessarily in that order.) I could have my printer automatically (sometime near the end of November each year) print an entire ream of "Roberts Rules of Order" to use as kindling to stoke my fireplace for the winter.
I'm on vacation. I could get used to this. I could enjoy one day being permanently on revacation, or reallyvacation. No alarm, no 'friendly' HR reminders, no "do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign".... why, I could even wear my undies and scratch myself on the way to the 'cafeteria' every day if I wanted!.. I could forward R and X rated emails to my buddies bypassing the intrusive IT department that presently adorns them to read "explicit language" on the receiving end. "No profanity, that shit ain't allowed here, do as I say, not as I do." Sorry, a reallytired moment. (I'll update my Cubicle calendar to 1,380 days to go when I get back.)
I gotta go.... again.. (It's an old man thing)... I hope you are reallytired. If you're just tired, then please do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign. No cussing. Do not pass go, do not collect $200 (Christmas bonus.. oops, slipped, sorry), and please put the lid down. (<-- Yes, we did get a company email on that.)
Bye now. Scratching myself enroute to the bathroom where I'll leave the lid up. Then, I'm gonna take a nap. I am really tired, figuratively to one day be literally reallytired. Sorry. kinda. The rebel in me snuck out.
Love, Victurd. ("WHAT BLOG BOSS? I don't have a blog!")
Friday, December 19, 2014
Slow music....
I think we like all speeds of life. Fast, the lefthand lane of I-70. Medium, when so lucky traversing our crowded 152. Slow, as in Richfield Road.. A Highway... a trip around the Square on Farmer's market day.
Someone recently asked "What song/music make you wanna get up and dance?" Easy answer for me.. "Shout" by The Isley Brothers. We, to me, are way comfortable in our own skin, but something like a song like that changes us in a heartbeat. Lotsa heartbeats - out of the shell we go. Like nobody's watching comes to fruition.
I enjoy The Mall - watching so many different ages, faces, body types - a melting pot - on "78 speed" for you fellow old-timers. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Go, go, go. Followed closely by "damn am I tired - I didn't realize shopping was so much work."
A sporting event where you fear to take your eyes away in case the play of the game is missed. Taut muscles. Open eyelids. Edge'a the seat stuff. Grandkids to the park, whew!
Family - ah, the perfect medium speed. Pass the mashed potatoes please. One "eye" on the conversation - the other on the tots running amuck. Sitting down in that comfy chair that mosta the time sits empty. The comfort level affords never being afraid to talk. A nice, loving pace.
Still, I like slow. A float trip with no rapids. Sitting, staring at a lake, the ocean, a river. Working 'easy' to get that heartbeat down to a minimal level. Yum.
Slow music. It speeds thinking, but in a way one doesn't feel rushed. "Seeing" with the eyes closed. The mind can go 'like 60' thinking about The Mall, the ballgame, the tots running amuck, the family, the meal, the conversation, the traffic, the "to do's", the "done dids" - all, sent down the funnel to complete relaxation.
Happens to be even yummier if one to enjoy it with. And if not, still so very nice.. I think I'll actually use this ottoman, I never do.
Where "Shout" gives us kind of an out of body experience - slow music gives us the time to be thankful for all the paces that have been in front of us - all of the life we're living/just lived. No car horns, no physical exertion, no crowd of people watching (other than our minds), no hustle bustle - just slow. Peaceful. Wonderful.
I do like all paces, and am thankful for each - but slow music is like wine for the soul. If I were to fall asleep in slow music - I could only be so lucky.
I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome. I love you slow music, thanks.
Love, Victurd
Someone recently asked "What song/music make you wanna get up and dance?" Easy answer for me.. "Shout" by The Isley Brothers. We, to me, are way comfortable in our own skin, but something like a song like that changes us in a heartbeat. Lotsa heartbeats - out of the shell we go. Like nobody's watching comes to fruition.
I enjoy The Mall - watching so many different ages, faces, body types - a melting pot - on "78 speed" for you fellow old-timers. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Go, go, go. Followed closely by "damn am I tired - I didn't realize shopping was so much work."
A sporting event where you fear to take your eyes away in case the play of the game is missed. Taut muscles. Open eyelids. Edge'a the seat stuff. Grandkids to the park, whew!
Family - ah, the perfect medium speed. Pass the mashed potatoes please. One "eye" on the conversation - the other on the tots running amuck. Sitting down in that comfy chair that mosta the time sits empty. The comfort level affords never being afraid to talk. A nice, loving pace.
Still, I like slow. A float trip with no rapids. Sitting, staring at a lake, the ocean, a river. Working 'easy' to get that heartbeat down to a minimal level. Yum.
Slow music. It speeds thinking, but in a way one doesn't feel rushed. "Seeing" with the eyes closed. The mind can go 'like 60' thinking about The Mall, the ballgame, the tots running amuck, the family, the meal, the conversation, the traffic, the "to do's", the "done dids" - all, sent down the funnel to complete relaxation.
Happens to be even yummier if one to enjoy it with. And if not, still so very nice.. I think I'll actually use this ottoman, I never do.
Where "Shout" gives us kind of an out of body experience - slow music gives us the time to be thankful for all the paces that have been in front of us - all of the life we're living/just lived. No car horns, no physical exertion, no crowd of people watching (other than our minds), no hustle bustle - just slow. Peaceful. Wonderful.
I do like all paces, and am thankful for each - but slow music is like wine for the soul. If I were to fall asleep in slow music - I could only be so lucky.
I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome. I love you slow music, thanks.
Love, Victurd
Thursday, December 18, 2014
A winter's day....
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.
I bundle. I start car to go work. I get out to scrape. Car die. Back in, start car again. Out, scraping, half of front windshield done, half of that snow, down pantleg. That cold. Car die. Back in, back out. Almost done, car die. I remember my promise to not cuss as much. Forgive me for I have sinned.
I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mity
That none may penetrate
I have no need of friendship
friendship causes pain
It's laughter and loving I disdain
I am a rock, I am an island
I'm back in car now. Windows cleared. A hint of heat. I'd promised myself to cut down on my calories. The fat that dunlapped over my belly and behind my back, is now skin to leather with 20 degree leather seat. Wow. That cold.
Don't talk of love
but I've heard the word before
It's sleeping in my memory
I won't disturb the slumber of the feelings that have died
If I never loved I never would have cried
I am a rock, I am an island.
I coast in neutral from my spot, because 1999 car remind me it old, need 'winter foreplay' before it kick in. It die. I no cuss. I pull to side of road, that hard with no power steering. Start. I go again.
I have my books
and my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armour
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb,
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I have my Coffee and my longjohns to protect me. Car warm now. On Interstate. Roads not cleared. Oh shit (forgive me again) WHERE ARE LANES? I go 15 mph slower than others. Other cars no likey me. One was from California I think as I heard 'sunny beach' when he went by. I no ask where he live. They mad, I no care. Comes with being 60-something. Safe bet, rush hour, everyone going 15 mph less is 60-something, and think about one thing, retirement.
I am a rock, I am an island
And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries.
A winter's day- in a deep and dark December. I'm kinda into purple pinkies, purple toes, shoes that leak -driving woes. And YES, shorter days for us old farts that no can see to drive in dark, perfect! Shrinkage. Yellow snow from hound. 53'ers that spray as they pass so I no use so much washer fluid. Never mind the ten seconds I can't see road/pee a bit.
I am a rock, I am an island
And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries. 1395 days until retirement. I no county. I no rock. I no island. Boooo whooooo booooo whoooo.
Love, Victurd.
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.
I bundle. I start car to go work. I get out to scrape. Car die. Back in, start car again. Out, scraping, half of front windshield done, half of that snow, down pantleg. That cold. Car die. Back in, back out. Almost done, car die. I remember my promise to not cuss as much. Forgive me for I have sinned.
I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mity
That none may penetrate
I have no need of friendship
friendship causes pain
It's laughter and loving I disdain
I am a rock, I am an island
I'm back in car now. Windows cleared. A hint of heat. I'd promised myself to cut down on my calories. The fat that dunlapped over my belly and behind my back, is now skin to leather with 20 degree leather seat. Wow. That cold.
Don't talk of love
but I've heard the word before
It's sleeping in my memory
I won't disturb the slumber of the feelings that have died
If I never loved I never would have cried
I am a rock, I am an island.
I coast in neutral from my spot, because 1999 car remind me it old, need 'winter foreplay' before it kick in. It die. I no cuss. I pull to side of road, that hard with no power steering. Start. I go again.
I have my books
and my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armour
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb,
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I have my Coffee and my longjohns to protect me. Car warm now. On Interstate. Roads not cleared. Oh shit (forgive me again) WHERE ARE LANES? I go 15 mph slower than others. Other cars no likey me. One was from California I think as I heard 'sunny beach' when he went by. I no ask where he live. They mad, I no care. Comes with being 60-something. Safe bet, rush hour, everyone going 15 mph less is 60-something, and think about one thing, retirement.
I am a rock, I am an island
And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries.
A winter's day- in a deep and dark December. I'm kinda into purple pinkies, purple toes, shoes that leak -driving woes. And YES, shorter days for us old farts that no can see to drive in dark, perfect! Shrinkage. Yellow snow from hound. 53'ers that spray as they pass so I no use so much washer fluid. Never mind the ten seconds I can't see road/pee a bit.
I am a rock, I am an island
And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries. 1395 days until retirement. I no county. I no rock. I no island. Boooo whooooo booooo whoooo.
Love, Victurd.
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
Attrition……
Merriam-Webster relates “a reduction in numbers usually as a result of resignation, retirement, or death…. weakening… wearing or grinding down by friction..”
A family photo album speaks to attrition. Gone, not forgotten.
Our local High School, Liberty, Missouri – holds an “All School Reunion” every four years for everyone that attended “the ‘old’ High School.”.. It’s a nifty affair, spread out around our small town typical “Square”. It starts on the East end with folks who graduated In the 70’s.. wide, open ‘booths’ (for each class) to hold the attendees, each adorned with a large picture of our school mascot, The Bluejay, the year of graduation written upon it.… it continues to the North, booths, each a bit smaller, for the classes of the 60’s… West side – the 50’s.. still, good sized booths, hair a tad bit grayer.. Finally, the South side.. booths smaller.. sometimes the Bluejays of the years are assembled in the same booth.. finally to the 30’s, all of the Bluejays enscribed from the 30’s in one booth – sadly, only a few attendees. Attrition.
Weakening, wearing or grinding down by friction. The number one reason people enter a Nursing Home is lack of stability. Weakening. Wearing, grinding down.
Every Christmas, at least for the last three years, the Sunday before Christmas, we’ve gone to sing Christmas Carols at Nursing Homes in our hometown, Liberty, Mo.. First year was scary, didn’t know what to expect – but pleased to report it went VERY well. We had three gals who had sung lifelong in choirs – and they carried us through.
Two years ago, not so good. Attrition. Things come up, we realize that – especially around the Holidays. Time is precious. Our number that year was not good – and our singing admittedly, wasn’t that whoopee. I am a horrible singer who ‘hides within the crowd’, and unfortunately that day, there wasn't anywhere to 'hide'.
That day, at our final home – I literally ‘lost it’. One of my best friend’s mothers was a resident there. I remember vibrant. I remember her hitting a golf ball a football field farther than I. She approached catatonic. I lost it. Attrition. Grinding down. Sad. Very sad. She is gone now.
Even in year two though, when attrition affected the size of our singing group, the residents had fun. They are, of course – of vastly differing conditions. Some, with great mind, but having body afflictions… some, with great body stability – and a mind that doesn’t necessarily remember loved ones.. recent past.. Attrition. Grinding down.
Last year was wonderful. More voices. Wonderful voices, a violin to keep us on chord (well, keep ‘them’ on chord!).. Even had a Santa among us.. and……. CHILDREN! The folks love seeing the children. Certain they help stir the memories of yesteryear.
Upon arriving at each home, we walked in with “We wish you a Merry Christmas”… Residents sang along – some. Some, ne’er opened their eyes, but lipped the lyrics. Some clapped, some cheered, some even joined in dance. Brief. The homes are big. One had three dining rooms – a song or three in each.. We go at an hour where they are either in the dining rooms – or, are making their way there.
We also had a pact, if we went past a door, and the person was bedridden – an entire song we’d sing from the hallway. Was very fun to see the smiles on the face, and the arms lifted up to wave. Good feel is a two way street.
This year, our numbers to Carol aren’t good – and adding to that, perhaps even more attrition. If we were a practiced choir, a small head count wouldn’t matter. I don’t mean that to be offensive to any previous attendee (remember, I am the one admitting to not being able to carry a tune, and the more ‘my type’, the “eeweier” it sounds!)…
Within these beds, chairs, lie/sit someone’s parents, Aunt, uncle, granny, grandpa. Some have visitors daily, some rarely or never. We’d like to think our brief Caroling uplifts, all. I know several of us who Caroled no longer have parents on this earth. Maybe somehow, attending/singing is the next best thing.
We don’t have enough people to go this year, and if any attrition were to occur it would be completely embarrassing. One final ‘shout out’, and we’ll make a decision tomorrow (Wednesday, 12/17) “yay or nay” as to whether to postpone for a year or not.. If you live close, have the time, and wanna – I can promise ‘good feel’. For you. For them. Love, Victurd:
CHRISTMAS CAROLING AT 3 LIBERTY AREA NURSING HOMES... Anyone/everyone welcome ("Just folks"). Sunday, 12/21, we'll meet *after* the Chief's game, at 3:45pm in the Parking lot of Conrads. (NW Corner of 152/291 Intersection.) We'll go to Pleasant Valley Manor, Our Lady of Mercy, and finish at Ashton Court. 4th Annual, if you've never attended, PLEASE DO! We need a minimum of 15 (Last year we had an AWESOME # of folks show up!) Great singing voice not a necessity, it's the spirit that counts. You are welcome to share this posting, the more the merrier – please (Facebook) message Vic Schultze if you are planning to attend. THANKS!
A family photo album speaks to attrition. Gone, not forgotten.
Our local High School, Liberty, Missouri – holds an “All School Reunion” every four years for everyone that attended “the ‘old’ High School.”.. It’s a nifty affair, spread out around our small town typical “Square”. It starts on the East end with folks who graduated In the 70’s.. wide, open ‘booths’ (for each class) to hold the attendees, each adorned with a large picture of our school mascot, The Bluejay, the year of graduation written upon it.… it continues to the North, booths, each a bit smaller, for the classes of the 60’s… West side – the 50’s.. still, good sized booths, hair a tad bit grayer.. Finally, the South side.. booths smaller.. sometimes the Bluejays of the years are assembled in the same booth.. finally to the 30’s, all of the Bluejays enscribed from the 30’s in one booth – sadly, only a few attendees. Attrition.
Weakening, wearing or grinding down by friction. The number one reason people enter a Nursing Home is lack of stability. Weakening. Wearing, grinding down.
Every Christmas, at least for the last three years, the Sunday before Christmas, we’ve gone to sing Christmas Carols at Nursing Homes in our hometown, Liberty, Mo.. First year was scary, didn’t know what to expect – but pleased to report it went VERY well. We had three gals who had sung lifelong in choirs – and they carried us through.
Two years ago, not so good. Attrition. Things come up, we realize that – especially around the Holidays. Time is precious. Our number that year was not good – and our singing admittedly, wasn’t that whoopee. I am a horrible singer who ‘hides within the crowd’, and unfortunately that day, there wasn't anywhere to 'hide'.
That day, at our final home – I literally ‘lost it’. One of my best friend’s mothers was a resident there. I remember vibrant. I remember her hitting a golf ball a football field farther than I. She approached catatonic. I lost it. Attrition. Grinding down. Sad. Very sad. She is gone now.
Even in year two though, when attrition affected the size of our singing group, the residents had fun. They are, of course – of vastly differing conditions. Some, with great mind, but having body afflictions… some, with great body stability – and a mind that doesn’t necessarily remember loved ones.. recent past.. Attrition. Grinding down.
Last year was wonderful. More voices. Wonderful voices, a violin to keep us on chord (well, keep ‘them’ on chord!).. Even had a Santa among us.. and……. CHILDREN! The folks love seeing the children. Certain they help stir the memories of yesteryear.
Upon arriving at each home, we walked in with “We wish you a Merry Christmas”… Residents sang along – some. Some, ne’er opened their eyes, but lipped the lyrics. Some clapped, some cheered, some even joined in dance. Brief. The homes are big. One had three dining rooms – a song or three in each.. We go at an hour where they are either in the dining rooms – or, are making their way there.
We also had a pact, if we went past a door, and the person was bedridden – an entire song we’d sing from the hallway. Was very fun to see the smiles on the face, and the arms lifted up to wave. Good feel is a two way street.
This year, our numbers to Carol aren’t good – and adding to that, perhaps even more attrition. If we were a practiced choir, a small head count wouldn’t matter. I don’t mean that to be offensive to any previous attendee (remember, I am the one admitting to not being able to carry a tune, and the more ‘my type’, the “eeweier” it sounds!)…
Within these beds, chairs, lie/sit someone’s parents, Aunt, uncle, granny, grandpa. Some have visitors daily, some rarely or never. We’d like to think our brief Caroling uplifts, all. I know several of us who Caroled no longer have parents on this earth. Maybe somehow, attending/singing is the next best thing.
We don’t have enough people to go this year, and if any attrition were to occur it would be completely embarrassing. One final ‘shout out’, and we’ll make a decision tomorrow (Wednesday, 12/17) “yay or nay” as to whether to postpone for a year or not.. If you live close, have the time, and wanna – I can promise ‘good feel’. For you. For them. Love, Victurd:
CHRISTMAS CAROLING AT 3 LIBERTY AREA NURSING HOMES... Anyone/everyone welcome ("Just folks"). Sunday, 12/21, we'll meet *after* the Chief's game, at 3:45pm in the Parking lot of Conrads. (NW Corner of 152/291 Intersection.) We'll go to Pleasant Valley Manor, Our Lady of Mercy, and finish at Ashton Court. 4th Annual, if you've never attended, PLEASE DO! We need a minimum of 15 (Last year we had an AWESOME # of folks show up!) Great singing voice not a necessity, it's the spirit that counts. You are welcome to share this posting, the more the merrier – please (Facebook) message Vic Schultze if you are planning to attend. THANKS!
Sunday, December 14, 2014
Hugs....
Near the top of the "life" chain is the hug. It's brief, long, awaited, exhilarating, comforting, empathetic, sympathetic, rewarding, reconnecting, lovely thing that speaks to I love/like you.
I've found (shut the front door Victor) that one can go a long time without "you know", but, one has to have a hug - with decent frequency. Hugs ain't gender specific, race specific.. they're perhaps not specific of anything other than, I like you, I love you, I'm thankful for you, I'm proud of you, I've missed you, this feels really good.
Hugs are a brief action that oft times relives many good years, memories.. catches up. Hugs from little ones come free with butterfly kisses... Hugs between admiring ones, often are adorned with deep kisses.
Guy friends can be reluctant to hug, so hugs between good male friends really break down perceived barriers, and speak to "man, you're a good dude, we've had some fun together."
It is said basic needs include sun, water, air, food, and a habitat with the right temperature. Not 100% would agree I'm aware, but hug should mebbe be on that list as well.
Two little arms from below reaching up, followed by perhaps the best kind of hugs of all.
A passionate, immersed hug - well...ok, maybe the one just above is a close second.
Nonverbal, yet speaking volumes. Light, polite... or strong, like "I ain't afraid to show my feelings for you, howthehell ya been, I have great memories of you, me, us." Hugs are a very simple thing - so much stronger, and with much less effort than any mediation.
Hugs celebrate. A touchdown. Home run. Marriage. Graduation. A job offering. A job well done. Retirement. A friendship. An absence. A courtship. A long bliss.
Stolen:
A hug is a handshake from the heart.
A kiss without a hug is like a flower without the fragrance.
You can't wrap love in a box, but you can wrap a person in a hug.
Just remember, you can't wrap your arms around a memory, so hug someone you love, today.
Love (and hugs), Victurd.
I've found (shut the front door Victor) that one can go a long time without "you know", but, one has to have a hug - with decent frequency. Hugs ain't gender specific, race specific.. they're perhaps not specific of anything other than, I like you, I love you, I'm thankful for you, I'm proud of you, I've missed you, this feels really good.
Hugs are a brief action that oft times relives many good years, memories.. catches up. Hugs from little ones come free with butterfly kisses... Hugs between admiring ones, often are adorned with deep kisses.
Guy friends can be reluctant to hug, so hugs between good male friends really break down perceived barriers, and speak to "man, you're a good dude, we've had some fun together."
It is said basic needs include sun, water, air, food, and a habitat with the right temperature. Not 100% would agree I'm aware, but hug should mebbe be on that list as well.
Two little arms from below reaching up, followed by perhaps the best kind of hugs of all.
A passionate, immersed hug - well...ok, maybe the one just above is a close second.
Nonverbal, yet speaking volumes. Light, polite... or strong, like "I ain't afraid to show my feelings for you, howthehell ya been, I have great memories of you, me, us." Hugs are a very simple thing - so much stronger, and with much less effort than any mediation.
Hugs celebrate. A touchdown. Home run. Marriage. Graduation. A job offering. A job well done. Retirement. A friendship. An absence. A courtship. A long bliss.
Stolen:
A hug is a handshake from the heart.
A kiss without a hug is like a flower without the fragrance.
You can't wrap love in a box, but you can wrap a person in a hug.
Just remember, you can't wrap your arms around a memory, so hug someone you love, today.
Love (and hugs), Victurd.
Wednesday, December 03, 2014
The ups.
There was a time in my life when hearing "Like I said" was fingernails on the chalkboard, drumsticks on the aluminum trash can lid. All that said, scraped, ratta tat tatted, like I said, I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome.
Life is full of emotion. Moods. The blahs. The good, the bad, the ugly, the "oh baby". Our eyes, ears, hearts, bellies, breaths are intertwined like a car battery getting amps... or not. (Eww, that comparison reeked of "You might be a redneck!").. We're "after coffee", "after booze", "after a rough day". "After a letdown." The 'after', affects our moods.
Thank goodness, for every splinter, spill, fall, failure, fender-bender, speeding ticket, overdraft, broken bone, illness, breaking news yuck story, loss of a loved one - we counter all those by the wonder of 'the ups'. I love 'the ups.'
The first time you hold that baby in your arm
My two year old grandson. Just about every time I go to his house, first thing he does is run, get his shoes - come up to me and mutter beggingly "paaarrrrkk?" He remembers the fun we have. I love that. I get 'the ups'. (And I feel horrible we live in a climate where there are long stretches it's too dadgum cold to go to the park.)
The school play, 'their line' - preparation before supper, after supper, on the way to school. Finally, it happens - their line. You watch proudly, you pray it goes well, it's said and done, and done well. Their eyes seek you, find you, 'the ups'.
Last year, at our company Christmas dinner - having had a dreadful 4th quarter (but wonderful year) we hoped/prayed/crossed fingers enough $$'s could be squeaked out in bonus we could buy our loved ones Christmas. We were all literally floored when our President announced an amount that not only allowed us to buy a nice Christmas, but an amount allowing us to buy a damn good one. My buddy, her spouse laid off a good chunk of the year, after hearing, started crying. "The ups" got her, and I loved it.
At a wedding awhile back, the very beautiful bride - a graceful lady who never ever wanted the spotlight - had it shown on her as she was asked to repeat the vows. She started shivering, quivering, stammering - shaking. My first reaction was to breathe in, breathe out in attempt to somehow give this beautiful lady some breath - but my second reaction was "how much this means to her". And I found comfort. She wonderfully gathered herself, finished remarkably, and EVERYONE there - got 'the ups'.
I fall in love too damn easily, it's demonstrated. As a tradeoff, I get 'the ups' very easily. The Royals in October afforded many of those. A surprising, wonderfully orchestrated flash mob gives me 'the ups'. Sometimes happy tears are involved, I ain't afraid to admit, and that (the tears) even makes it 'uppier'.
I love seeing postings on the social media of the father/bride in their slow, somewhat mundane, mandated father/bride dance... allofasudden have the music cranked, fast, speedy wonderful music replaces the ho-hum background music, and 'poof' a niftily choreographed twosome dance routine sends the audience to tears, cheers, laughter, and a healthy case of 'the ups'. The dad/daughter looking at one another upon completion, even 'uppier'.
I've got an old trunk in the living room, filled with 62 years of memories. Sometimes, insteada playing Sudoku, running the fridge for a chicken sandwich, insteada a nice nap... insteada watching a ballgame I really don't have a passing interest (simply to pass time) - I open this trunk.
Many of the pictures inside are of those gone. Of course that's sad, yet, looking thru them reminds me, 'takes me back', makes me well up, make me smile/laugh, remember, find joy - and have, 'the ups'.
Depression. Happens. I believe to us all, in varying degrees, sometime only for a moment for some, sometimes for a month for others. I find 'the ups' to be my own personal Wellbutrin, Paxil, Prozac, serotonin.
Gotta run. Joint I go to is having Customer Appreciation night. Earlier this summer I'd gone there, the discussion was "The Royals" and I mentioned that it was an unusual year for I hadn't made it to a Royal's game yet. Next time I went in, manager hands me a coupon for two Royal's tickets, WOW, nice! 'The ups.' Meeting buddies there, quite certain there will be some 'the ups' moments.
I could never karaoke as I always get the words messed up. How's that song go? Been down so long it looks like 'the ups' to me?
Love Victurd.
Life is full of emotion. Moods. The blahs. The good, the bad, the ugly, the "oh baby". Our eyes, ears, hearts, bellies, breaths are intertwined like a car battery getting amps... or not. (Eww, that comparison reeked of "You might be a redneck!").. We're "after coffee", "after booze", "after a rough day". "After a letdown." The 'after', affects our moods.
Thank goodness, for every splinter, spill, fall, failure, fender-bender, speeding ticket, overdraft, broken bone, illness, breaking news yuck story, loss of a loved one - we counter all those by the wonder of 'the ups'. I love 'the ups.'
The first time you hold that baby in your arm
My two year old grandson. Just about every time I go to his house, first thing he does is run, get his shoes - come up to me and mutter beggingly "paaarrrrkk?" He remembers the fun we have. I love that. I get 'the ups'. (And I feel horrible we live in a climate where there are long stretches it's too dadgum cold to go to the park.)
The school play, 'their line' - preparation before supper, after supper, on the way to school. Finally, it happens - their line. You watch proudly, you pray it goes well, it's said and done, and done well. Their eyes seek you, find you, 'the ups'.
Last year, at our company Christmas dinner - having had a dreadful 4th quarter (but wonderful year) we hoped/prayed/crossed fingers enough $$'s could be squeaked out in bonus we could buy our loved ones Christmas. We were all literally floored when our President announced an amount that not only allowed us to buy a nice Christmas, but an amount allowing us to buy a damn good one. My buddy, her spouse laid off a good chunk of the year, after hearing, started crying. "The ups" got her, and I loved it.
At a wedding awhile back, the very beautiful bride - a graceful lady who never ever wanted the spotlight - had it shown on her as she was asked to repeat the vows. She started shivering, quivering, stammering - shaking. My first reaction was to breathe in, breathe out in attempt to somehow give this beautiful lady some breath - but my second reaction was "how much this means to her". And I found comfort. She wonderfully gathered herself, finished remarkably, and EVERYONE there - got 'the ups'.
I fall in love too damn easily, it's demonstrated. As a tradeoff, I get 'the ups' very easily. The Royals in October afforded many of those. A surprising, wonderfully orchestrated flash mob gives me 'the ups'. Sometimes happy tears are involved, I ain't afraid to admit, and that (the tears) even makes it 'uppier'.
I love seeing postings on the social media of the father/bride in their slow, somewhat mundane, mandated father/bride dance... allofasudden have the music cranked, fast, speedy wonderful music replaces the ho-hum background music, and 'poof' a niftily choreographed twosome dance routine sends the audience to tears, cheers, laughter, and a healthy case of 'the ups'. The dad/daughter looking at one another upon completion, even 'uppier'.
I've got an old trunk in the living room, filled with 62 years of memories. Sometimes, insteada playing Sudoku, running the fridge for a chicken sandwich, insteada a nice nap... insteada watching a ballgame I really don't have a passing interest (simply to pass time) - I open this trunk.
Many of the pictures inside are of those gone. Of course that's sad, yet, looking thru them reminds me, 'takes me back', makes me well up, make me smile/laugh, remember, find joy - and have, 'the ups'.
Depression. Happens. I believe to us all, in varying degrees, sometime only for a moment for some, sometimes for a month for others. I find 'the ups' to be my own personal Wellbutrin, Paxil, Prozac, serotonin.
Gotta run. Joint I go to is having Customer Appreciation night. Earlier this summer I'd gone there, the discussion was "The Royals" and I mentioned that it was an unusual year for I hadn't made it to a Royal's game yet. Next time I went in, manager hands me a coupon for two Royal's tickets, WOW, nice! 'The ups.' Meeting buddies there, quite certain there will be some 'the ups' moments.
I could never karaoke as I always get the words messed up. How's that song go? Been down so long it looks like 'the ups' to me?
Love Victurd.
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