Short story......

I'm an addict. Uh huh, am.

I'm addicted to smile. Wherever I'm at, be it in a mall (Victor, you haven't been in a mall in years).. frown, ok dangit, WalMart, Piggly Wiggly, on a walk, at the gym, a ball game, a restaurant - my eyes hone, focus on ones that smile. Not the ones that smile just when someone's eyeballs are placed upon 'em, the ones that carry it, wear it, always.

I always wonder "where did they come from?"... "Was this learned from their folks/family?".. "Don't they too watch the news and somea the horrific stuff that happens within?"

My easy chair. Ben Gay. An aspirin. A peanut butter and banana sandwich. A wagging tail. A prescription. ALL things that make me feel better. Smiles do that, yeah they do. And, they're free. Smile out, farm out.

Admiration. You know, ya just know - those that possess this wonderful trait go thru many of the same tummy churns we all do. They gotta. Friggin' tailgaters. Nasty smells. More bills than bucks. Impatient folks. Whiney folks. Grumpy folks. Doing laundry, on hands and knees getting skid marks off the tiled floor, plunging a stopped up stool, bitter bitter bitter cold. Sweltering heat. Yes these dudes/dudettes smile thru it all. Smile out, farm out.

"Smile, it is the key that fits the lock of everybody's heart." Athony J. D'Angelo.

It's magnetic, for me anyways. Would I choose to sit around the living room with Gladys Kravits or Ellen? (Hell to the yeah, Ellen, ahm, got any extra ShutterFly checks?) Would I rather take a walk on the 3.4 mile path around Watkins Mill Lake with Will Smith or Archie Bunker? Will, let's go.

Color me a simpleton. Smile is like petrol to me. Antidepressant stuff. A massage to my senses. A big ole plate of lasagna on an empty stomach. YUM.

Smile, all the while.

Smiles are like lipstick, fresh ink, maple syrup, glue, yada - THEY RUB OFF. OFF, in in the right way. The scratch to an itch. The comfortor to the cold air. The poncho to the rain.

Duck feathers. Go ahead life, pour, rain, talk crap, be your usual stern self, make me run laps, complain complain is your name... POOF, smiles are strong, they way wipe all that out. Best thing since sliced bread and those Mr. Clean Magic Erasers. Hint, your can buy knockoff Mr. Clean Erasers at the Dollar Store for a dolla. Do the same thing. Savings makes one smile. Yum.

I tried Googling "why some people smile a lot" and found a lot of psychological gobbildy goo. I don't think they know. I say 'blessed.' Blessed is the one that smiles at, on, during life.

"Let us always meet each other with smile, for smile is the beginning of love." Mother Teresa.

It ain't expensive. Our bank account won't show a current balance and an available balance whilst we await the cost of that smile to go thru. It's free. It's fun. It's happy. It's caramelized, as in "how about them apples?"

Life is hard, danged hard. Smiling is hitting the ball on the sweet parta the bat. Pulling down that football in the corner of the end zone with one hand. Seeing a loved one, friend, obtain attention, reward, kudos, atta boys - and one smiles for them, when nobody's lookin. Coming upon a free ice cream sample thingy the Piggly. Getting gas for .17 cents less per gallon at QT thanks to Piggly Yum.

I'd mentioned 'short story', sorry, words got away from me. Mebbe soon we'll discuss 'smirks'. I love them puppies too. You gotta love smirks, 'cause they're usually from a friend planning their next 'evil' (hella fun) move, reply, act.

Life is hard, smiling really helps. My take anyways.

Have a smiley day... even if life lends you a shart.

Love, Victurd