A well a bird, bird, bird, b-bird is the word.......

Words, we'd be lost without 'em.

There's long'ns, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, short'ns, A, I, O. Google tells me, actually the longest word is Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis (a type of lung disease.) You wanna impress me, Um-dittle-ittl-um-dittle-I, sing THAT ONE Mary Poppins.

You can have a cross word, which is altogether different than a crossword.

Words hurt, propel, confuse, guide, hide, gather, lots.

Old farts aren't generally 'gamers', unless or course you count Words With Friends.

Dyslexics see 'em sdrawkcab.

Cuss words bring about fights, bad feelings and sometimes even bars of soap.

Ain't ain't a word. Why ain't it?

Sometimes words are hard to read - in fact, continuing theory is one day kids won't learn cursive, so us old farts in nursing homes will use the 'secret code' of cursive. HA. Young farts will one up with size 10 type, so take that!

SWIMS will be SWIMS even when turned upside down. I guess that's called an ambigram. NOON, pod, MOW, SIS, suns are udder ones.

We all have that friend, sadly, that is never at a loss of words.

We say OMG when we're speechless, but then, that doesn't make sense.

OMG is kinda an abbreviation, and I've always wondered why they would use sucha long word as abbreviation for that?

The plural of mouse, the rodent, is mice. The plural of mouse, the computer hardware device, is mouses.

There's words that are frequently msipelled: cemetery, colonel, dumbbell, misspell, refrigerator, sergeant, shish kabob, ridiculous, I know.

Monday is the only day of the week that has an anagram, which is dynamo. March, April, and May are the only months of the year that have anagrams, which are charm, ripal, and yam.

Words that have two different pronunciations, each with an independent meaning:
bother = more than two
capable = has a head
flower = cry baby
mother = one who catches moths
preaching = before the pain starts
shower = dirty old man in raincoat

Sometimes, people have difficulty with words, such as our neighborhood friend growing up (he had a lisp).. One day, he approached our table, pointed at the empty chair and asked "Can I shit here?"

Funny-ha-ha occupation words:
cardiologist = casino black jack dealer
pathologist = sidewalk engineer
bouncer = trampoline artist
miner = someone who won't share

"We are masters of the unsaid words, but slaves of those we let slip out." Winston Churchill

Every picture tells a story, but may or may not have words, but, it can also be worth a thousand words.

Today, we hurry. No time to talk, so we text instead. We get a message from a friend and think "clearly, what the hell did that mean?"

Right on time (punctual) there's punks, puncture, and THE BIGGIE, punctuation. Punctuation 'thingys' ain't really words, but man o man can they change a meaning:
Woman without her man is nothing.
Woman: without her, man is nothing.
Woman, without her man, is nothing.
or,
Let's eat Grandpa!
Let's eat, Grandpa!
Or, uh oh, forgot one:
"Best sausage supper in St. Louis come and eat Pastor Thomas Ressler."
or
Buy bed FREE 1 night stand

"Expect troubles an inevitable part of life and repeat to yourself, the most comforting words of all; this, too, shall pass." Ann Landers

"The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone." Harrier Beecher Stowe

This wasn't good, sorry.. I was gonna quit, but mama always told me there'd be days like this, and she also told me to finish everything you start (except sex) as well as not to look into the eye's of the sun, BUT mama, that's where the fun is (for each)..

Thanks for letting me have a word with you,
Love, Victurd

Today……

Ain’t never had it before - new to me,
Ever since, that very last snore.

What shall I do, where should I go, who should I see?
But first, remind yourself you’re old, you must go pee…..

Now what, what next?
I dunno, toast, jelly, mebbe Wheat Chex?

Showered ‘n shaved, ear hairs plucked.. Here… see?
Choppers brushed and flossed, hey, I’d better pee…

Cologne splashed, deodorant on,
A minute or so, I’ll be gone……

Keys, wallet, teeth - oh woe, it’s me…..
One more stop, I’ve got to pee…………

This retirement stuff, it ain't overrated…..
Nope, no stain, looks like I made it…….

Front door locked, no cars comin’, OK to cross…
Retirements rocks, fun bein’ boss……..

Jock told a joke, I LOL’ed, even got giggly….
Oops, that urge again, left into Wiggly…..

Flung the door open, alas, I made it in……
By the hair, of my chinny chin chin (and nope, nuttin’ on my shin)….

Retirement is fun, that, I hope you can see……..
Long as you know all the nearest restrooms, where one can go pee…..

Groceries whilst I’m here, maybe even some beer…….
Back to the car, ready to steer……

Need food fast, so it is, at the place Mickey D…….
Think I’ll run in here first, cause I gotta pee….

I was always told, it’s hell getting’ old……..
Sausage McMuffin down, yum, I’m sold…..

In and out, in and out, in and outta the car…..
We retirees go, but not very far…….

For you see,
We gotta pee.

Often, a lot.
Whether cold, or hot.

No fuss, no hurry, no kinda hoopla….
Be we always must play, zippity do dah..

When time is short, we simply pull over, hide behind the tree…..
Except for my middle, I’m pretty skinny, they’ll not see me pee…

No commute, coworkers, bosses, we live life large……
It's so nice to know, urine charge……

Tinkle, tinkle, little star……..
Always remember, where you are….

I’m a little peepot, short and stout,
Yep, that’s my handle, uh huh, that’s my spout.

This little piggy went at the market,
This little piggy went at home,
This little piggy at Arbys,
This little piggy, none?
And the old little piggy went wee wee wee, all the way home.
(A stupid nursery rhyme, sorry for the bores….
Piggy got home, had to change drawers)

I think that I shall never see,
Life, without having to pee….
A pee, again? You jest?
Hurry, or you’ll be messed.
A pee, that looks for ‘where?’ all day,
OK OK, that’s what I say…..
Poems are made by fools like me…
But at least I found, a nice place to pee.

By Henry P. Gibson

Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here we are, stuck in the middle

At the risk of sounding like an old fart, I'm going to sound like an old fart when I say, "I miss the good ole days."

"A day without laughter is a day wasted." Charlie Chapman

Barney fumbling for his bullet....

Tim Conway, with his Siamese elephant impersonation..Harvey, Carol, "Momma" there on the couch.. Momma, finalizing after with "Is that little asshole finished?" - Harvey, falling of the couch.

Lucy and Ethel, trying to keep up wrapping chocolates on the conveyor belt..

"Laughter is an instant vacation." Milton Berle

Lonesome George, sitting between Johnny Carson and Dean Martin - Bob Hope on the other side... George, mid-story-telling, Dean, flipping his cigarette ashes in George's drink, unbeknownst to George.

Candid Camera, when it's least expected - laughter.

The Red Skelton Show... Red, doing stand-up, using jokes that were fit to be printed on church bulletins..

Granny, belittling Milburn Drysdale to Jed Clampett, warning of "city folk."

Samantha, trying hard not to "twitch her nose" using the magical powers she promised Darrin she wouldn't use, Endora begging otherwise in her quest to rid Samantha of the mortal Darrin..

"Well Good Morning Mrs. Cleaver."

"To me, there is no picture so beautiful as smiling, bright-eyed, happy children; no music so sweet as their clear and ringing laughter." PT Barnum

Well Gyoooahhhllll-leeeeee

Belushi, Radner, Murray, Aykroyd...

Klinger's most recent fashion...

Where everybody knows your name..

Ralph Kramden, wife Alice, knucklehead Ed Norton.

"Laughter is not at all a bad beginning for a friendship, and it is far the best ending for one." Oscar Wilde

Friends

George, Jerry, Elaine - no soup.

Carlin, Pryor, Williams, Rickles, Newhart, Martin, Murphy, Allen, Winters, Rivers, Burns, Hope, a long, long list.

While we, the divisive clowns on the left, jokers on the right, keep high blood pressure pill manufacturers in business, mebbe, just mebbe, we should simply laugh. At ourselves. At/with others.

"The human race has one really effective weapon, and that is laughter." Mark Twain

Some website told me "Laughter really does burn calories."... "And release feel-good chemicals in your brain."... "Your whole brain gets involved (rather than just one hemisphere.")... "It strengthens your bond with other people."... "And relaxes your whole body for up to 45 minutes."

Mebbe, as a prerequisite to any left/right politico fodder, it should be required to start with a good, (mostly) clean, quick joke.

You know like... "What do you call Bears with no ears?".... B

"What's the difference between an oral thermometer and a rectal thermometer?" The taste.

"Why can't you hear a pterodactyl go the the bathroom?" Because the "P" is silent.

"Why did the lifeguard kick the elephants out of the pool?"... They kept dropping their trunks.

By unanimous vote, I will stop. (You're welcome.)

Tune in tomorrow when we'll discuss the benefits to the gastrointestinal system when one farts.

Love, Victurd

Thank heaven....

for little girls...

Awakening at 4-something am (it's ok, I'd had at least six hours of sleep by then) I prepared, and started, a pity party. I do that. I hate that. I'm human. Forgive me Father for I have worried. Did worry. Worried.

In this day and age, where Encyclopedia Britannica was replaced by AOL dial up, leading to today's instantaneous answers via Google - I did that. Yes, it did help. It helped me with suggested ways to stop overthinking - there were 12 of them, but now I can't find the dadgum article to reread - but agin', it did help.

Alas, found it. If you overthink, shame on you. JUST KIDDING! HA.. If you might find it helpful, some steps are:

Put things in a wider perspective... will this matter in 5 years? Or even 5 weeks?

Set short time-limits for decisions. Small decisions, 30 seconds. Big'ns, 30 minutes.

Stop setting your day up for stress and overthinking. Get a good start, read something uplifting over breakfast. Single-task, with regular breaks.

Minimize your daily input. TMI, phone, inbox, Facebook, yada.

Become a person of action - consistently - leads to less procrastination, less overthinking.

Realize that you cannot control everything.

VICTOR, maybe this crap doesn't apply to me? Well, perhaps it does to some, so, throwing the net in the ocean to maybe help, nab a couple that do this occasionally (overthink) in addition to yours truly.

Say stop in a situation where you know you cannot think straight.

STOP! JK, kinda sorta!

Work out. Oh my brain does, like a damn hamster on a wheel, but, me thinks the idea is something more healthy.

Get plenty of good, quality sleep. Eh, I had six hours. OK, OK! I'll get more soon, trust me! I loves a good nap!

Be aware of overthinking and remind yourself throughout your day.

VICTOR, all WELL AND GOOD, but what the heck does this have to do with "Thank heaven, for little girls"?

I thought you'd never ask. Little girls grow up, many become moms.

There ain't nuttin' on the planet as special as a mother.

One can 'clear the cache', act, say stop, work out, sleep/sleep, widen perspective, Google self help Goodies until the cows come home. (Crap I even Googled "where the hell did 'until the cows come home' come from?".. Gooogle tells me it means "not for a long time", ie then, a long time. Presumably the time is referred to is when the cows return to the barn for milking.)

And, the milking brings us back to mom - as in, der ain't nuttin' as special as mom.

All the suggestions,self-help, anti-anxiety meds, anti-depressant pills, all - don't/can't hold a candle to dear old mom.

Pity parties lead to "NOT FAIR!"... which leads to the mirror.. which leads to "you stupid idiot, there are MANY, MANY, worse off than you."

Many lost their mom at an early age. Some, wait in houses by the border, not knowing if they'll ever see their mom again. I was lucky, I know. I am lucky, I know. Whilst my mother is gone, the comfort, love, valuable lessons, hugs she gave me are within, still today, some 31 years later.

I HATE when OLD PEOPLE tell me what to do......... BUT... (hehe).. if you're lucky enough to have your mom, go, today if at all possible, and give her a great big ole hug. If ya can't, call her. Make sure that L-word comes up somewhere in the conversation. Everything, sadly, ends. The day might be closer than you'll ever imagine to awakening at 4am having one of those "I want my mommy" moments. So, go ahead and label this dude a pansy. I make no apologies for saying/thinking that this morning. Little boys, yes, even 65 yr old little boys, want their mom (every day.)

If you ever have an "I want my mommy" moment - it's ok. It means you have a solid foundation. You had special moments, days, weeks, years. You enjoyed having someone who loved you more than anyone else - and thankfully, that love was returned to them.

Victor, I can't believe you just did a blog about wanting your mom. Believe it, it's true - and it's a good bet there are many just like me who experience/think that - and I, for one, am proud to admit it. It speaks volumes about her.

Thank heaven, for little girls - moms particularly.

Love, Victurd

It’s a special day……….

Why?

353,000 new folks will be born today.

Thursday is an oft forgotten day - but were you aware:

The Beatles invaded America - quietly, selling 7,310 copies of Please, Please Me. (Thursday, Feb 13, 1963)

Thursday, June 20, 1782, the Eagle was chosen as the official emblem of the US.

Da Vinci was born (Thursday, 4/15/1452) seeya soon Mona Lisa.

Thursday, 6/15/1752, Ben Franklin did his thing with the kite and the key.

Margaret Gorman, age 16, was crowned the first Miss America, Thursday, 9/8/1921.

Syncon 1 was launched on Valentine’s Day, Thursday, 2/14/’63, becoming the first satellite having a period of rotation synchronous with the earth’s rotation. Communcation was lost soon after launch, but just remember, every Thursday mebbe, that sucker is still up there orbiting.

We became free, Thursday, 7/4/1776 as Congress approved the Declaration of Independence avowing so.

Pac-Man, on Thursday, May 22nd, 1980 was launched in Japan. I know I’m stretching for things, bite me.

Old English, originally “Thor’s Day.” Jupiter is sometimes used to represent Thursday.

Elections in The UK, Movie Premiers in Australia, University Graduations in Thailand are almost always on Thursdays.

Oh shit Thursdays:
Hindenburg… Malaysia Flight 17.. Hartford Circus Fire…..

Throwback Thursday… People post pics of themselves when they once had flat bellies..or, of their kids, before they became smart aleck, selfish teenagers..

Born on a Thursday… Daisy Fuentes, Gary Coleman, Charlize Theron, Christina Aguilera, Christina Applegate, Elizabeth Hurley, Chris Christie, Debra Messing, Fergie, Claire Danes, Clay Aiken, Floyd Mayweather Jr, Erin Andrews.

There are 52 Thursdays this year. If the year starts on a Thursday in a non leap year, there'll be 53 Thursdays. Or, during a Leap Year, if either of the first two days lands on a Thursday, there will also be 53 Thursdays.

It is said single women are more likely to have sex Monday thru Thursday. (Women in a relationship moreso on Friday and Saturday.) The site I found didn't address men, but it's a given, men think about sex on Thursday. (And, FSSMTW) For those thirsty (not Thursday) there are, on average, 5 to 10 million people having sex at any given moment (in spite of the notion Wednesday is Hump Day.)

Bloggers have a rough time thinking of what to write about on Thursday.

The vast majority of people are bored to tears on Thursday, thus, they’ll read virtually anything, including this crap.

I was born on a Monday. You? To compute, go to https://www.timeanddate.com/date/weekday.html

Go, do, run, jump, smile, hug, phone a friend, clean your house naked, be thankful…

For……

151,600 people will die today.

Happy Thursday,
Love, Victurd

Stolen Pooh.........

"When else fails, take a nap."

Whenever Winnie, that's the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it. Naps are an elixir to "I've had all I can takes and I can't takes no more." They also happen at that moment where you've done something(s) exciting, witnessed something(s) exciting - so much good has happened - the mind says thanks, the bod says "woah Nellie" - I'm gonna melt into the mattress as I've sucked up good.

"A day without laughter is a day wasted."

The older I get, the more I appreciate laughter. Not a great fan of "LOL", but, I certainly notice when it happens, thank when it happens - and make note of why it happened. I kinda automatically 'download' that laugh, save it for that moment when the rollercoaster is on it's descent. Whenever, Winnie.

"What day is it?" asked Pooh.
"It's today," squeaked Piglet.
"My favorite day," said Pooh.

To those who might scoff at such a disgustingly (wonderful) take on life - I think I might need a nap. Retirement, of course, lends credence to not giving a rats about SMTWTFS - but this ain't about days of the week. It's about attitude, knowingly combatting "days of the weak." For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Hold the phone there Isaac, laughter breeds laughter. Feel good conjures feel good. Correctomundo though on one's take of "Oh shit, it's Monday." Richard and Karen had it wrong, rainy days and Mondays should be favorite days. Or, to quote Winnie again, "whenever life throws you a rainy day, play in the puddles."

"We'll be friends forever, won't we Pooh?"
"Even longer."

Kibosh, some say, to hearing "I love you more!" I kinda likes it. Friends too, must ride that rollercoaster, must take those naps, respites when "I've had all I can takes and I can't takes no more." Naps and friendships are all about rejuvenation. When two lean, they seemingly walk upright easier.

"As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen."

The whole gamut. Friendship. Mates. Family. Jobs. Coworkers. Schoolmates. The man (or woman) on the street. The dude next to you on the bus. Your teammate. Even opponents. Whenever Winnie, I like that.

"How do you spell love?" asked Piglet.
"You don't spell it, you feel it," Pooh replied.

The eyes of wonder, the magic of touch, the comfort of a smile - all, speak, without being aloud.

"We didn't realize we were making memories, we just knew we were having fun."

Said many, in the however years we've been afforded here on the planet, at every age.

"Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me, I may not follow. Just walk beside me, and be my friend."

Said introvert, extrovert, lefthander, right hander, night owl, early riser, "from the Left", "on the Right", black, white, red, brown - all. "I can sing a rainbow" I believe is how Peggy Lee put it.

"The sun still shines, even when it's hiding."

A take, and a quite nice one at that.

To those that ain't a fan of rose colored glasses, that prefer sour gum drops on Mondays, naysay, doubt, fear, frustrated, despair, depress, disillusioned, hate, pained, offended, pessimistic, uncertain, uneasy, wary, all the damn negative sensations you care to muster up:

I happen to see having a honey jar stuck on one's nose as a good thing.

It is, has been, thankfully, a buncha Pooh.... Yes, poo poo happens. I could envision Winnie saying "HEY! Let's use it as fertilizer to make things grow!".. Whenever Winnie, thanks..

Love, Victurd

Age…..

“You can’t help getting older, but you don’t have to get old.” George Burns.

Exactly when are you old?

13% say when you have gray hair. 23% say when you retire from work. 33% say when you are no longer sexually active.. 42% say when you have bladder control problems. 45% trouble walking up stairs.. 51% frequently forgets familiar names.. 62% say turning 75.. 66% say when you can’t drive a car.. 76% can’t live independently.. 79% say when you turn 85.

So, I vote, go camping. (Baby you can drive my car.) Thataway, you can pee wherever, whenever. Have sex, and if you forget the familiar name, presto, it’ll be, just like starting over.

“Just remember, once you’re over the hill you begin to pickup speed.” Arthur Schopenhauer.

(Camp on flat surface, no hill, no stairs. Again, pee wherever whenever, no stares.)

“Old age is like everything else. To make a success of it, you’ve got to start young.” Theodore Roosevelt.

Good point Teddy. Mom ultimately weans us, Elmo then learns us. Big Chief keeps us within the lines. A long line of teachers, para’s, school counselors, coaches, administrators, yada, mold us.

(BRB, gotta pee.)

(Whew! Made it!) We move from “I wanna be a ____ when I grow up” - to, “I’m now a _____.”

There is no end in sight to the methods, ways, counseling, means of - relationships/marriage.. Parenting.. Financial planning.. Empty nest, what now - advice, books, how to's, videos, yada.

No one teaches you how to be old though. What to do, where to go.

OK, so I lied. I found a “WikiHow” on How to Grow Old:

“Keep age in perspective. Live and enjoy each day. Don’t waste time thinking that you’re too old to do this or that. Take care of your body. The exercise aspect is vital. Don’t look back. Keep your mind alert. Keep up with the news. (Yuck, editor’s note). Find ways to interact. Be optimistic.(Sorry, slipped, editor.) Do something different every day. Join a (group, club, volunteer, library, yada) Follow your dream.”

(BRB, gotta pee.)

(That was a close one.) Ok, thanks WikiHow, but that’s a mouthful. I will write it all down though on a piece of paper,lose it, think that later I found it, but it was actually my grocery list I'd lost three weeks ago.

So… screw it all, I’ll make my own list:

Laugh.

Love.

Compliment, genuinely.

Forward stupid emails, texts, memes, gifs, yada.

Check for stray ear hairs, daily (damn they grow quick.)

Look at pictures of yourself in your youth, go to the mirror, lie, “I haven’t changed a bit!”

Hide your car keys in a place your kids, grandkids, siblings, will never find.

“Old age is always 15 years older than I am.” Randy Voorhees.

Paste that quote to your bathroom mirror so you can repeat it daily (after checking for stray ear hairs.)

Go, do, camp. Flat ground. Pee wherever whenever. Have sex. Forget the name? An added plus.

Try not to get overly pissed off (or on), mad, irate, upset, too Left, too Right, forget what that one person said long ago that hurt you, for you never know who your next camping partner might be.

Besides - the more candles on the cake, the more wind you’ll need.

“Having sex at 90 is like playing pool with a rope.” George Burns.

Yee haw! Rack 'em Wiggins. Love, Victurd.

Give me Liberty, and probable death........

Where ya live, who ya live near, who ya live with - ALL, invoke differing opines of like, dislike, love, hatrid.

Turn left if yain't from Liberty, Missouri.. or, hover if ya wanna if you're from smalltown America and hopefully this congers a special memory or two......

Blogging is seemingly ALWAYS thinking, "the hell should be written about today?"...

My thought was 'feel good.' Merriam tells one "relating to or promoting an often specious sense of satisfaction or well-being."

Damnit-darnit, 65 years old and another word (specious) I have no idea whatintheheck it means. (Did David Moffitt usedta work for Merriam?)..hehe.. S'more Merriam: specious "superficially plausible, but actually wrong." Well, heck to the no, that's not fun to write about. Merriam relates there's anudder definition:

"Cheerfully sentimental - a feel-good movie."

Aha, that's what I'm talking about.

Give me Liberty, and probable death...........

A Lovey Houston McBowl 300 burger. I'm too damn old to fist fight, but I might if you tell me you've had a better burger somewhere else. Yum to the yummy.

Steamed up windows on "The low road."

A lunch tray, borrowed from Dean Nay/WJC, sledding down the hill from Jewell Hall.

30 trips at night from The Square to the "Ku Ku" (sp?).....

Fitteen cents a gallon at the Robo Car Wash (hence, the 30 trips a night.)

Nuttin' personal, the hideous green, girl's PE outfits from Eisens.

Surfer shirts, so popular, that Bud Brant had a hard time filling orders fast enough.

Talking Mr. Hallisy down a dime on that end table, no additional charge for his smile, permeating niceness.

To the Twin, or to Clayco, maybe in the trunk, and for sure the world's worst hamburger, either place.

Getting behind a car on The Square, they ain't from Liberty, and they stop at EVERY corner on The Square.

High upon the hill at the Methodist Church, standing between the spotlight and the church, creating 30 foot tall shadows.

A down Kansas, left on Water, left on Franklin parade. Cop car in front, Sheriffs on horseback, band/pep club right behind, football players atop the fire truck, Queen/court in convertibles, Mayor, dignitaries too.. pooper scooper at end.

Ball glove on bike handlebars, "Indian Ball" at the City Park with a similar cast every summer - delighting in recall even though there is vast difference in memory over the years of who usedta win, who usedta lose.

The Carnival at Franklin.

A Jesse James reenactment.

Christmas lights around the Square.

A curiosity drive around town after a bad, strong winded storm.

"Fill 'er up, regular please."

Sterling 1, Thornwall 7.

Fifteen 9 and 10 year old Little Leaguers, running as fast as they can from the Franklin Ball Field, across Mill Street (little or no regard to sporadic traffic) to the Mug's Up for a 5-cent root beer.

Mr. Weston's "STEEEEEEERIKE THREEEEE, YOU'RE OUTTTA THERE!"

Trying to fool the little old ladies at Boggess Hardware as to exactly which drawer a 2 inch Phillip's screw was in. Getting mad when they went right to it.

FREE Pepsi and peanuts at Woodys to watch the World Series.

A Harvey, Riley or Susie haircut.

Riding the bus to the City with your ma to shop at Macys.

Friends in the '61 Galaxy, over to Antioch to nab the just published weekly 40-Star survey, Dolan in the background.

The ball glove restrung at Mace's.

Cinnamon, and cinnamon sticks from Breipohl, again, sp?

"We had a nice game on lanes 7 & 8 by _________" said Harrison McCoy (or Melvin, or Ted.)

"Rack 'em Wiggins."

Waiting in the Schoeller's parking lot on a Saturday night for your cart-pushing friend to get off so a night of fun could begin.

The Dueling Pistols.

Whitewashing The Square.

Proudly showing a friend your Junior Sheriff's Deputy badge.

Driving to Maryville, MO to watch the Chief's game because it was blacked out locally.

That brief respite: No baseball in KC?

Green bats, seeya Mr. Finley, take Charlie O withya, welcome Mr./Mrs. K (and thanks!)

Watching for, listening to the squeals of Chief's player's cars driving 65 miles per hour up Miller Street to WJC at 9:55pm, so they could make the 10pm curfew.

Snoozy's ever-present smile at Co-op.

Roller skates affixed to a rectangular piece of plywood so one could navigate the crack-filled sidewalks, long before "No skateboarding signs" popped up everywhere.

That Plaza Theater first kiss.

Coffee at Trails Inn, The Western, Miller's Café.

An Atkinson taxi ride to the ballgame when dad was outta town.

Whiffle ball, kick the can, jump the brook, catching lightening bugs, telling ghost stories, "First one to see the street lights on!"

That damn mosquito fogger truck.

Filled City Park bleachers on July 4th at dusk to see the fireworks display.

The amazement of the horses at the City Park horse barn, the stench of the dog pound.

A six pack of bottles cashed in at Safeway for "The Ice Cream man!" money.

Population 8,909.

Who are all these people?

Give me Liberty, and thanks (lots) for all of that, and yes, probable death here. Tis ok, I still might fist fight if you say there was a finer town to grow up in.

Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.....

Love, Victurd

Now listen here Sonny.,... Back in my day...

Oh no.. Now what?

Was just thinking, The Good, The Bad, the Ugly...

Heaven knows we've seemingly had our share of all three for quite some time..

For the specific purpose of positively, let's leave out the Bad and the Ugly.

I got to thinking, wanting to thank 'role models'... Then, I had a conversation with myself, "what are the characteristics of a role model?" Yes, scary, to talk to one's self, but me thinks we all do it. In fact, I think we talk with ourselves more than any durn person on this animal planet. (My 'sister-outlaw' probably talks to her dogs more, but, story for another day!)

OK OK, so what'd you find? What are the characteristics?

An interesting (to me) Google. Virtually everywhere I turned, searched, read - spoke to "role models of children." And while I will certainly toast to that - I don't think there's a durn thing wrong with being 60-something, or 80-something, or 40-something, or any-something and still having role models.

It's certainly been noted my brain takes a weird path. Funerals, again, to me, can be a good indicator of role model. Ya see a full parking lot? Ya see filled to the gills pews of folks? Overflowing so, that folks don't mind standing in the back. Notice them handkerchiefs?

What'd we lose? We lost a person who showed passion and had an ability to inspire. He/she had a clear set of values. With, a commitment to community. Selflessness and acceptance of others. The ability to overcome obstacles.

Moral. Confident. Hardworking. Respectful. Optimistic and creative. Walked the talk.

Then why are people crying at the funeral?

They impacted us and there is definate loss, emptiness. Mebbe too, we forgot to say thanks along the way. Mebbe we never told 'em "You were a role model for me and you've positively affected my life - thank you."

Again, virtually every dot.com article I read spoke to 'role models to children'... oh, there were a few addressing "role models as a boss" and I am big time all about that one too - I had some really good ones, and then again, we are dropping "The Bad, The Ugly" from this conversation. Ha!

My take, the older I get, the more I see, appreciate, role models. The happier it makes me, the more I cherish, admire. To me, you don't have to be a kid to have a role model. One can even be retired and have one (or fifty).

HOW DO THESE PEOPLE DO IT? DON'T THEY LIVE IN THE SAME, SOMETIMES POOPY WORLD WE DO?

Writing a blog allows for personal feelings to surface. I wholeheartedly agree with all of the above characteristics - but blogging allows me to mebbe add a few.

He/she had fun. Not too much, but knew how to, when to. Demonstrated humility when necessary. Smiled, often, even in the scope of Bad, Ugly. The typea person, that when you extended your hand for them to shake - they'd grab it and place their second hand on yours. Role models do that, they have a way of making you feel good about yourself.

My sister. Oh boy, this is gonna be biased. Yes, yes it is. But also demonstrated. My sister could load up the whole fam (extended) damily, drive us here, take us there, show us this/that, smile, laugh, PAY FOR EVERYTHING - and as the day, weekend, trip, drive ended - you'd get outta the car - and she just had a way to thank YOU, make YOU think you were responsible for all that. Role models do that. She deflected praise on herself and showered it on us, and everyone around. She was a role model. Pews overflowed. Hankies came out.

We all see 'em. They're out there. The person who is consistent, there when needed, always. The one that's worked every Saturday at the food shelter all of his adult life. The cross country coach whose wonderfulness brought over 100 kids out for the team annually, and from the view of his running shoes, #100 was JUST AS IMPORTANT as #1. (may he RIP, pews overflowed, hankies came out.) The lifelong friend you don't see real often - but find out from someone else "he's been to Haiti on many, many mission trips." Silent example - I think that's a trait as well.

Role models ain't fake news. They live, they breathe, they're out there. Thank God. And them. I know I planta try,

Before it's too late,
Love, Victurd

A little diddy, about smack and cayenne..

(sorry, couldn’t thinka nuttin’ else that rhymed.)

Smack is cheap, cayenne is hot,

Gonna be a good day, will it not?

I once was lost, but now I’m found……..

Thanks for picking me up at the People Pound.

I was mad, and then sad, then figured, life’s too short,

I should laugh instead, snort snort snort.

Woke up, fell out of bed, dragged the comb across my head…

Looked horrible, took a shower instead.

This day I promise, to do good, pay it forward, not be a sap..

But first, in order, a 2 hour nap.

This is nonsensical… blogger, where’s your head at?

Not sure if I would, or wouldn’t say that……

I tire of ‘the usual’, that’s for sure,

Be weird like me, a pretty good cure.

Today is trash day, put your containers out,

Trash on the curb, not from your snout.

Steering a boat, is easier with a rudder,

Just wrote that, till I could think of anudder.

It is said it’s much, much better to smile than frown,

Hard? Walk on your hands, looks good upside down.

If you’re old, tried that, tripped over your dog, fell on your butt,

Never said “Simon Says”, blame your damn mutt.

Chicks and ducks and geese better scurry,

I’m old, gotta pee, great big hurry.

Is there a name, title, moniker for this 2-line poem style?

Can’t thinka one, but understand it comes in a pile.

Victor? Pretty stupid. Ain’t you gotta/gonna go play golf?

I’ll do what I want, when I want, so, maybe bug off?

Maybe you’re right, and I should go,

Drive for show and putt for dough.

Victor, you really suck at golf, don’t be sucha jerk.

Yeah, you’re right, but beats the hell outta work.

And Victor, I wouldn’t post this, it’s not very good.

Bite me mister, didn’t you mean would?

Chicks and ducks and geese better scurry,

Smile today, Simon says hurry.

Love, Henry Gibson Cougar Mellencamp

Little boys and baseball.........

It's happened again. I wanna write, sure, for you - but, selfishly, for me too. I get a real big kick outta sitting at my desktop - running ideas from my brain past my fingers... backspacing... adding.. thanking auto-correct.. blogging..wondering "is that long enough (or too long)?".."please, a smile, that's all I hope to provoke".. . or, "criminy this boring, they'll never even read through to this point."

The first topic that came across my brain this morning was "fix." I Googled "Brainy Quotes" about fix.. found, "you can't fix stupid,".. "I'm one of those guys who likes to piddle around in the garage and fix stuff" said I NEVER... "We live in a disposable society. It's easier to throw things out than to fix them. We even give it a name - we call it recycling." Then I thought about divorce (throw things out, not fix), the Helsinki Summit, the fix, and decided NO, next subject please - I wanna run so far away from politico here - an easy fix, wipe out everything written - start over.

I thought about things we hear. I was watching Anthony Scaramucci on CNN (Victor, that's politico...) I know, but the first thing I thought of when his name came across was Bohemian Rhapsody's "Scaramouch, Scaramouch will you do the fandango - Thunderbolt and lightning very very frightening me - Gallileo Gallileo Gallileo Gallileo Gallileo Figaro - magnifico" - and to me, that's one of the most wonderful songs ever to hear, get your mind the hell off the real world......... Then I realized I'd just blogged, done snippets on wonderful sounds (Laughter, rain on the roof, coffee brewing, a wine cork popped, a stream, A LINE DRIVE OFF A WOODEN BAT.) No, and yes. No on blogging about sounds, YES on baseball.

Just about the time the sensor on your car tells you the left front tire is now at 18 psi, you forgot about the pre-cooked brats you have heating up in boiling water on the stove - there is now no water, it stinks, smoke everywhere, you live in an apartment and had you not gotten your booty up "Oh yeah, forgot about those" you mighta been responsible for 12 tenants scurrying out screaming "FIRE!". The apartment is a mess, you have on just your undies, you ask "alright, which damn smoke detector is going off?".. You leap to hurriedly find which one, you remember leaping ain't a good thing at age 65......... but it's all ok.

For there is baseball. Ahh, baseball. The hot tub of life.

I drove 158 miles last night for a wonderful gathering of folks at my cousins.. men, age 19 to.. well, I was probably the oldest, so 65. The reason for the gathering was the All Star game.. There were 15 chairs circled in the living room around the TV. Old baseball hats hung on the railing to the front door to greet you. Autographed pictures of old ball players lined the walls, end tables, and, the really big ones were placed on the floor for all to see.

There was a bank president.. two HS baseball coaches.. a college baseball player.. a weatherman.. a guy who owned a baseball card shop with his son.. the local sport's reporter.. a prison worker.. several other's (I forget their employ) and, an old fat guy who not only ate up the hamburgers, BBQ, beans, chips - but the moment.

There wasn't a chick in sight. That's ok. For it's baseball. The night was filled with one story after another.. close encounters of the baseball kind.. Triva questions throughout the game (oh yeah, we forgot, they were playing the game on TV...).. that's ok, stories were repeated, retold around baseball events from Babe Ruth, to the just fired St. Louis Cardinal manager. If one answered a trivia question correctly, my cousin gave 'em a baseball card of that specific player.

Stories sometimes included folks getting up, showing exactly how this player/that player reacted, spoke, yelled, laughed, flipped-the-bird, cussed, spit.....it was guy heaven.

Yelling at players from the stands, players yelling back, players putting lighter fluid on their gloves, burning them.. mustaches, beards, country boys, city slickers, baseball. So-and-so was a real JERK.. nicest guy ever.. The sport's reporter relating when he, at age 22, was scared as could be to be in a World Series locker room, having to interview Buddy Black, sans clothing. (Not a naked reporter, a naked Buddy.) I guess he related that story a few years back, so, onea my cousin's sent him a Buddy Black baseball card which he has pinned to the wall by his desk. Baseball et al.

A 50 year old man related the story of having a seat right behind home plate - and having a 10 minute conversation with so-and-so (I forget now, but, an esteemed player) and he was like a kid at Christmas in relating the conversation. Baseball does that - it takes one back to childhood - and that's the farthest damn thing from fake news there is. (Sorry, slipped.)

Minoso, Mookie, the Mick, Red Schoendienst, Tony C, Reggie, La Russa, Raines, Henderson, Julian Javier (pronounced 'Hu-leon Ha-vier', but, a story recounted about a wet-behind-the-ears Weather guy filling in one night for the absent sport's guy, pronounced it 'Ju-leon Jave-ier"), Denkinger, Dietz, Bake McBride.

We even switched, momentarily, to basketball. (It's ok, basketball has the same 'kid' effect.) One of the baseball/basketball coaches recounted a story of the beloved (may he RIP) Bud Lathrop, once observing his team play a couple years ago.. Bud had coached in the town in the 60's, so he got up to speak to the kids.. He ended his speech with "Boys, there are two kind of players. There are shooters, and there are passers. To win, Shooters need to shoot, and passers need to pass." A sophomore raised his hand, stated "But coach, I'm a passer, can I shoot too?".. "Free throws and layups only son" Bud replied.

It was related, when I was 12, my two cousins (both then 9) and I attended a Kansas City A's game that went into extra innings. Our uncle who'd brought us - told us it was ok for us to stay, but he was going to the parking lot to nap in the car so he'd be able to stay awake on the drive back to Mid-Missouri. We ditched our regular seats, went, bought snow cones - and spied, went to, some really really good seats. I feel like (and am) a really, really old guy, when I say "Back in my day".. but, back in my day (and in that day) folks dressed to the 9's.. men in white, collared shirts, women in dresses, fancy hats. We were honkered down behind two finely adorned couples. The events of the game had us on the edge of our seats - so much so, that my cousin's (full) snow cone tipped over, plastering the two men's white shirts and one lady's royal blue hat in a deep purple, grape color. "WHO THE HELL?" (screamed aloud) we didn't stick around to hear the rest, and it sent us running as fast as we could to the parking lot. Thankfully, youth, outruns age, so we're all three alive to retell the story.

We were all different, in age, occupation, bankroll, height, weight, married, divorced, single, flatbelly, big belly - but the constant was baseball.

In a way, maybe this blog is about fix... and about sounds one hears.. because that's what baseball does.. to (old men) little kids.

Baseball has been berry, berry good to us. Scaramouch, Scaramouch can you hit the damn fungo - thunderbolts and lightning, very very frightening, Gagliano Gagliano - magnifico. Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia let me go - remember, relive, rejoice - Baseball.

Well done my cousin - like my brats.

Love, Victurd

Hey now, you're an All Star

Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me
I ain't the sharpest tool in the shed
She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb
In the shape of an "L" on her forehead

Well the years start coming and they don't stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do, so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the back streets?
You'll never know if you don't go
You'll never shine if you don't glow

(Did they just suggest that it doesn't make sense not to live for fun? Uh huh, I think they did. I likes that. I really likes that. Backstreets? Was that suggested as well? Uh huh. Farm out, you can see farms, minus the hustle-bustle, tailgaters, I'm-in-a-hurry-it's-all-about-me folks. Country road, take me home. Victor, the song is "All Star", please, not another song. BM [bite me, not bowel movement, well, maybe that too])

Hey now, you're an all-star, get your game on, go play
Hey now, you're a rock star, get the show on, get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold

(Tubthumping - Victor, you can't mix THREE songs in one blog. Ahhhhhhhh choooooooo. Oh, sorry, was snot intended to get that allover you, my bad. Knocked down? Git urass back up. Give up? Sorry, not today. Worry that people consider one a loser? Yeah, Ringo and George prolly told Paul and John "that song will never work." Damnit Victor, that's four songs in one blog - maybe you are a loser.)

It's a cool place and they say it gets colder
You're bundled up now, wait till you get older
But the meteor men beg to differ
Judging by the hole in the satellite picture
The ice we skate is getting pretty thin
The water's getting warm so you might as well swim
My world's on fire, how about yours?
That's the way I like it and I never get bored

(That's the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it. Victor, I give up. NOPE, one can never get up. "What doesn't kill me make me stronger." Victor, is that another damn song? Nope, it's Friedrich Nietzcsche. Who? Friedrich Nietzcsche. An 1800's German philosopher who ultimately went insane, but, besides the point - way ahead of his time with that quote.)

Hey now, you're an all-star, get your game on, go play
Hey now, you're a rock star, get the show on, get paid
All that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold

(Who's an All Star? You, me, everyone. Can't = "Watch me." Give up before you start = "KMA". Only shooting stars break the mold.... Orrrrr, just like the man who met a lady and told her "You look just like my 6th wife" [Victor, you've told this one before. "KMA"] She replied "Good Lord man, how many times have you been married?".... Five.)

Hey now, you're an all-star, get your game on, go play
Hey now, you're a rock star, get the show, on get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars

(I'm friends with a shooting star - former marathon running lady who had her knee replaced. "You'll never run again." Much, VERY MUCH trial, tribulation, tubthumping - she just RAN 3 miles.)

Somebody once asked could I spare some change for gas?
I need to get myself away from this place
I said yep what a concept
I could use a little fuel myself
And we could all use a little change

Well, the years start coming and they don't stop coming
Fed to the rules and I hit the ground running
Didn't make sense not to live for fun
Your brain gets smart but your head gets dumb
So much to do, so much to see
So what's wrong with taking the back streets?
You'll never know if you don't go (go!)
You'll never shine if you don't glow

(Anudder friend, bad bad car wreck, "we might have to amputate your leg at the ankle, you'll never run again." Much, VERY MUCH trial, tribulation, tubthumping - this person has since competed in triathlons.)

Hey now, you're an all-star, get your game on, go play
Hey now, you're a rock star, get the show on, get paid
And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold

And all that glitters is gold
Only shooting stars break the mold

(So Victor, I'm deducting, to be an All Star, one must do something super human eh? Nuh uh, it's simply a message to us all, never give up... or, "Don't think twice it's allright." GEEEZ Louise.)

Say, anyone seen my 6th wife? jk, it would only be the 3rd, but I ain't never giving up. Again, is that a double negative? Who cares, be an Allstar, only shooting stars break the mold.

Now you're probably going to end with something stupid like 'conVICtion' eh? Nope, same message as always, I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome. (But, conVICtion ain't bad!)

This blog has been really stupid, but I don't care, let it all hang out. I quit. (Don't quit, all that glitters is gold and only shooting stars break the mold. You'll never shine if you don't glow. Hey now, you're an all star.)

Love, Victurd

I'm just now knowin' that.......

School, for me, was about "Is today cinnamon roll day?"...that really cute girl three rows over..."do you think coach will make us run our watoosies off tonight?"

In case you hadn't noticed, there ain't nuttin' above regarding education. (Is "ain't nuttin'" a double-negative if ain't ain't a word?)

Hence, simpleton, I consider myself. It's ok, doesn't bug me a bit. Recently I took a current event quiz, the results were not good at all, but it's OK..I haven't missed a re-run of Frasier, Barney Miller or Mayberry RFD in eons.

Which leads me to "Stuff I didn't know."

A friend posted a video of a dog turning a backflip. The internet is fulla amazing things, so I guess I was not all that surprised, I just didn't know a dog could actually do a backflip.

Which lead to "I wonder whattheheck else I don't know."

I found there is actually a weekly podcast "Stuff I Never Knew." Antsy, just as I was back in Naomi Johnson's American History Class - I had no interest in watching past episodes - so I Googled "stuff I never knew" instead.

Were you aware, when a male bee climaxes, their testicles explode then they die? (Don't shoot me, it was the first thing that popped up - I will try to beehave s'more below.)

There are more fake flamingos in the world than real flamingos. (More than half of them probably reside at my 'outlaw sister's house'. Outlaw, I guess, is fancy for we ain't inlaw any longer.. but there's still a connection, I reckon. I very much enjoy giving my outlaw sister havoc - in fact, I've told her before she's in "my top 150 people I love.")

Once, Charlie Chaplin entered a contest for "Charlie Chaplin look-alikes" and he came in third.

Of all the people in history that have reached 65 years of age (me, me, me!), half of them are living right now. (Serious note, praise be medicine advances.)

54 million people alive right now will be dead in 12 months. (With advance apologies to relatives reading, HOLY SHIT I've got to get laid!.. Nevermind, I'm reminded of that bee. Quoting Dolly and that one song, "Me, I'll bee just fine and dandy, Lord it's like a hard candy Christmas." Oh crap.. let's see, August, Sept, Oct, Nov, December - yeah, that's only 5 months, I think I'll still bee here.)

Goats have rectangular pupils.

If you put all the earth's ants in one pile, and all the earth's humans in another pile, the pile made of ants would be bigger (have more mass.) Screw that, let's assemble all the bees in the world.. would beat the heck out of any local 4th of July fireworks display, that pile would be way more explosive!

Penguins will give their mate a pebble as a way of proposing. I think Fred and Wilma got that bassackwards, as they had Pebbles after the fact.

Turtles can breathe out of their butts. I just report 'em ma'am.

A pig's orgasm lasts 30 minutes. (Strange, considering 'makin-bacon' in the microwave is only one minute per slice.)

If a man never cut his beard, by the time he dies it would be 30 feet long.

The last president that wasn't a Republican or Democrat was Millard Fillmore in 1853. (Does anyone believe in reincarnation? Please?)

Vending machines kill 4 times as many people as sharks. (Between '78 and '95 at least 37 people have died as a result of shaking vending machines to get free merchandise, averaging 2-3 deaths per year. Over the last decade there are six recorded shark attack fatalities in the US, for an average of .6 deaths per year.)

George Washington spent about 7% of his annual salary on booze.

A Mosquito has 47 teeth. You think a bee has ever tried to mate a mosquito?

The "F" and the "J" keys on the keyboard have little bumps on them. I know, I didn't believe it either. Yep. They are for locating where the index fingers go in 10-finger typing. As aforementioned, I was antsy in school. Mrs Diggs (I think her name was), our typing teacher, put masking tape over all my keys 'cause I kept peeking. Story of my life, predominantly single, no bumps to put my fingers on.

You can't smell while you're sleeping. So, it wasn't the smell of the fart that woke you up, it was probably the sound. Tell that to a turtle.

If you earn more than $18,000 a year, you're among the 4% of the richest people on Earth. BRB, gonna multiply my SS times 12.

If you dig straight through the Earth and jump into the hole, you'll fly out the other side in 42 minutes and 12 seconds. I call BS. How do they know that?

Professional farters used to be highly appreciated artists. Flatulists, or 'fartists' turned their intestines into tools of their trade and often performed for the rich and powerful - and were handsomely rewarded. Le Petomane was the highest paid French entertainer a Century ago. He could blow out candles and play La Marsellaise with his butt. Ah hogwash, I bet he 'couldn't hold a candle" to the turtles Michaelangelo, Leonardo, Raphael and Donatello..so, blow it out your ass, so to speak, La Petomane. (Again, apologies to my relatives.)

And YOU had the gall to ask, "Victor, what do you do when you wakeup at 4am?"

Much love,
Robert Ripley (1st cousin to Henry Gibson)

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." Dr. Seuss

Happiness…

A penny in the parking lot, heads up.

A tail wag.

A smile.

Seeing a good deed.

Doing a good deed.

Car window down, dog’s head out.

Seeing a hug.

Hugging.

A family reunited (especially little kiddos) with a loved one who has been away protecting our freedoms.

Air conditioning.

A pair of jeans outta the dresser, finding a $20 bill in the front pocket.

Seeing an old friend, thanking God that you’ve each been afforded old.

A significant other, who upon sight, places you in a trance (a yummy trance.)

Waking up thinking “Holy shit, what am I gonna do now?,” only to find, it was a dream.

Witnessing good sportsmanship.

Pharrell, fo'real.

The easy chair.

The best of smells.. Sheets hung on the clothesline.. White Shoulders.. Nautica.. Anything coconut.. Pine needles.. Needed rain on hot asphalt. Puppy breath.. Dinner, one room away. A campfire. Vanilla. Petrol. Fresh cut grass. BBQ. Popcorn. New car. Spearmint. Babies. Flowers.

The best of ears: Good to see you. A line drive off a wooden bat. Laughter. Birds chirping. Rain on the roof. Coffee brewing. Wine cork popped. A stream. The start of a race. Music, much. Your child, teaching their child.

The good, fun, loving stuff on Face book - and to those who poo-poo Face book (VICTOR, this blog is about happy).. Oh yeah, never mind.

A body that works, even if it don’t work like it usedta work.

A car that works, even if it don’t work like it usedta work.

Not having to work, when you usedta work.

Nature.

Signs of Spring.

Autumn’s wondrous prep for Winter.

Snow.

Being so worn out, a nap is in order, immediate snooze, followed by no snooze alarm clock. Screw Folgers (VICTOR!) the best part of waking up is when you wanna.

Women say taking bra off at end of day.

Men just say taking her bra off.

A horse’s winnie, a pig’s snort, an owl’s hoot, a goat’s spastic (but wonderful) sudden jump.

Being thankful, reminded, this is the best Country in the World to live in.

Good people getting their due.

The ability to pay bills that are due.

Silencing a persistent cuss with “In due time.”

Every month of the year, every day of the week, every hour in the day.

Reminders, whether they come in the mailbox, your phone, in an email, to your eyeballs, your ears, your touch, your heart: Life is pretty damn good.

Please don’t sit on me because I ain’t the biggest Lily Tomlin fan, but I will always love her Edith Ann saying.. And in this case, about ‘happy’: “And that’s the truth.”

Party on Garth, life’s pretty friggin’ good.

Love, Victurd

This I’ve noticed…..

The rat race is never ending - but the point and time comes to jump off.

They say you shrink with age - hence the fact I think I remember being 5’11 and ½” at some point and time - now, the nurse tells me I’m 5’10 and ½”. Pointless to argue “That CAN’T be, when I clip my toenails now, they are SO MUCH further away than they usedta be.”

Cars, 5 lanes full, each direction, each in a greater hurry than the other - help me Lord, take me to the two lane country road where I can see the rabbits, the deer, the hills, lakes/ponds, greenery, autumn yellow/orange/browning, space between houses, where the buffalo usedta roam.. As it is, I worry about my ’neighbors’, 16” away, checking their texts, sliding over to share my lane instantaneously. You millennials think “that old codger has left his turn signal on,” pffft, we just want the hell offa this 5 lane road.

I don’t want what seems to be the mandated 5mph over the speed limit. Lemme pull over perty please, go 5mph under the speed limit, and please, no 5-hour-energy tailgaters that are close enough to see my stray ear hairs in my mirror. Two lane, before it’s too late.

I’m not worried about the 8 cars in front of me at the drive up window at noon time at Wendys. I’ve got the Oldies station cranked up a tad - affords at least two songs before I turn it down to order my small vanilla Frosty. I-want-what-I-want, and I want it, eh, whenever I get there. I know it’s your lunch hour and you’re pressed for time, sorry, it’s old fart payback time. I want what I want, and I want it whenever (I want), whenever that eventually is.

Hurry now = gotta pee. Or, putting on undies, one damn toe stuck, won’t go thru the big circle, and you hop hop hop (hurry) to find the nearest wall. Finally get that leg thru, fitty percent finished, time for the other one.

Calendars now, there is no regard for SMTWTFS. It’s “one day it will be the last one”, stop, enjoy, go slow (no choice in that matter). There are chores to do, things to clean, clothes to wash, but what if this is my last day? I’ll do all that tomorrow, TGLW. (Whippersnappers, that’s old fart text talk for The Good Lord Willing.)

Important, I’m finding as I age, has diddly to do with upward mobility (well, now that’s still a quest, just a different kind.) Nuttin’ to do with the biggest, baddest, newest car - just gimme one that starts, has enough pep to get the hell over on this 5 lane road - and won’t drink gas like it’s PacMan or sumpin.

I’m finding, as I age, “How you doing” ain’t done in passing, it’s done in serious inquiry. Listening is so much more fun when ya ain’t wearing rat race blinders. Sure, hearing may not be as good, but now it’s strain-to-hear versus how-the-hell-do-I-get-outta-this-conversation-I‘m-in-a-hurry.

Smiles now ain’t fake, they’re genuine. It means “you’ve got a cute grandkid,” or, “I remember way back when we were fulla piss/vinegar”, or, that the tummy has finally stopped hurting because we finally were able to pass gas.

We’re selfish at this age, but… ask us if we care. Nope, nada, huh uh. We watch you get up, run, fetch, drive to soccer practice, speed thru Mickey D’s, phone Big Daddy to make sure he doesn’t forget little Johnny’s orthodontist appointment - and all that watchin’ makes us tired, so we nap. Till, whenever. Till whenever we wanna. Screw am/pm, SMTWTFS, alarms.

Yeah, we’re forgetful, we get in the way, and you don’t have to whisper to your mate “can you believe he/she is wearing that?” - WE DON’T CARE. My dad had a favorite pair of way-too-old damn pants that he wore daily (and washed daily too) in retirement to do the dirty little chores of life. My mother would be flabbergasted when he wore them to the Piggly Wiggly because the zipper puller-upper thing had broke off and he put a large paper clip in it’s place. I now understand why he didn’t give a rats. Thanks Pop.

Ok, I’ll get outta here now, or, to quote Eric Burdon, “we gotta get outta this place, if it’s the last thing we ever do.”

TGIF-R to you. Huh? TGIF-R? Yep, Thank Goodness I’m Finally Retired.

Talk to you tomorrow, TGLW.

Love, Victurd

You can't squeeze blood from a turnip.

Forgive me Father, I know "thou shall not", but I'm gonna... I'm gonna steal.

No, not an Amazon package, there's too many damn home installed cameras nowadays... no, not a laptop (or 15, like those dudes caught on film recently at a mall electronics store) - I can no longer run faster than the slowest cop. No, not any of the ten most stolen items that Google told me were the ten most stolen:

Wine and spirits
Makeup
Fashion accessories and facial creams
Swimwear and sportswear
Sunglasses
Mobile accessories
Razorblades
Lingerie/Intimate apparel
DVD's and video games
Power tools

Hedging for a moment, is it just me or does that list above 'hint' WOMAN! Come on, Wine? Uh huh. Makeup? Sure. Fashion accessories and facial creams? Fer sure! Lingerie/Intimate apparel? Those sluts! (Oops, sorry!).. Power tools? PERVERTS!

No. Them ain't it.

I'm gonna steal from Google. HOW. TO. HAVE. FUN.

Many of us have forgotten how to have fun.

I had a boss once. That one dude called me a misogynist once. Trust me, that ain't the case - and the above was meant to tease chicks. I do that, but usually only on days that end in Y. This boss, yes, was a female. I seen her smile once maybe in five years. Yes, I'm aware that sentence shoulda been "I SAW", I seen just seems more fun. Anyways, I figured she musta got laid that one time I seen her smile.. and I thought "Once every five years?" Then I said a consolation prayer for her hubby. Anyways, this lady, led us to the biggest conference table you ever did see for a preparatory meeting for the upcoming busiest time of year. I felt great urge to carve my name in that table, but, that would be fun, mebbe illegal, so, instead I took a blank tablet to doodle on. Much anticipated: coming threats....my way or the highway....you will be shot onsite if you are caught looking at Facebook/phone/stupid, funny emails...... (s'more)

No. She tried fun. The entire thing meeting was lighthearted. Many bought in. Nomme. This lady has had fun/been laid once in five years and I'm now supposed to laugh when she's joking? Patooey.

So, forgive me Father, I'm stealing. I'm stealing from Google, because sometimes she, and me, and you, and even Chris Rock forget how to have fun. So I'm Googling. I can't even spell playgereyezing, but I think that's what I'm doing. Go ahead and sue, hence, you can't squeeze blood from a turnip.

"How do you have fun?"

Find a new hobby. Listen to music. Think more positively. Reduce the stress in your life. Get out of your comfort zone. Dance. Hang out with the right people. Laugh more. Go on an adventure. Liven up your workspace. (Already happened, company 'downsized', bye bye Victor.) Take breaks. (breaks = naps? I'm good at that.)

Crank the funk on Pandora while you're cooking. (OK, but, hot dogs only take 45 seconds in the microwave, next suggestion.) Make phone calls while simultaneously nature watching. Cuddle the cat while reading email. Swear off dusting. (Done did that, eons ago.)

Find your inner finger painter. HUH? They continued "while most of us give up coloring by middle school, any creative endeavor - whether painting, writing or photography; crafts, cooking, or gardening - is about as close to childhood play as many of us get." K, tell me more, or, lemme steal more..

The next article I stole from takes a bassackwards approach: You're worried what other people think. (Don't do that he say.) You think you need to spend money. (Some of the best things in life are free, he say... scroll to lady who has sex once every five years.) You think you don't have the time. (Make the time, he say.) You think you need to plan it. (Let things happen naturally, he say.. you know, like farting I guess, farting is fun.).. You think conditions have to be perfect. (Allow imperfection, fun happens when things go unexpectedly awry, he say.) Kinda tired of that guy, next article please:

How to have fun like children, Tiny Buddha say. (Is it still playgereyezing when I reference his name?).. Be where you are. (Enjoy the moment, forget thinking about what you have to do tonight, tomorrow, next week, yada, TB say.).. Learn something new. (Like words or facial expressions, TB say.. I kinda like that one.) Smile 27 times more than you do. (TB say, children smile 400 times a day, and adults, only 15. Or, once every five years like that one lady supervisor. I wanna know, how TB count all that?).. Climb things. (TB unaware it's mostly old farts who come here, so I takey no responsibility if you are harmed, but TB wants you to get above ground level, like on a rock, or up a tree. Or, your hubby, like that one lady needs to do. I know, sorry. TB would tell me "bitter no fun." Party on Wayne, er, TB. Hand out high fives. Be unpredictable. Slow down. (Now, TB, you're finally talking to us boomers as we need be.) Create. Get dirty. (I DID NOT even mention you-know-who).. Break the rules. (Does playgereyezing count TB?)..

OK.

I just stole the "Get out of jail" card from my grandkid's Monopoly game just in case they come get me. You're stuck with my own take on how to have fun.

I love shock value. Don't be constrained by "You can't do that!" Fer sure you can, to hell with 'em. Wear shoes, socks, tops/bottoms that don't match, see how long it takes for someone to have the chutzpah to say something - you'll be afforded a nice "SEG" (last letter Grin, you figure the rest) in the meantime. (If by chance no one has the chutzpah to say anything pick your nose constantly until they're driven insane.)

Prank a friend, and laugh twice as hard when they ultimately get you back. STAY AWAY FROM FACEBOOK POLITICAL/RIGHT/LEFT/REPUB/DEM/CNN/FOX, tune into Naked and Afraid, The Simpsons or Southpark instead.

See if you can find a 'side view' pic of yourself from your childhood, then, take pic of your exposed belly (covering up any parts that might constitute porn) and email 'em both to everyone in your email contact list.

Or, for the love of mercy, get laid.

I'm outta here. Have fun, or, as grandpa used to say as he dropped us off at the swimming hole "Don't get your feet wet!"

Love, Victurd.

(Below is a posting that's made several laps around the internet.. I don't care, re-sharing with you. This man knows fun. Here's the letter his wife got from WallyWorld):

Dear Mrs. Woolf,

Over the past six months, your husband has caused quite a commotion in our store. We cannot tolerate this type of behavior and, as a result, will ban your entire family from shopping in any of our stores if even one more incident occurs. We have documented all incidents on our video surveillance equipment. Our complaints against your husband, Mr. Woolf, have been compiled and are listed below:

1. November 15: Took 24 boxes of condoms and randomly put them in people’s carts when they weren’t looking.

2. November 23: Set all the alarm clocks in Housewares to go off at 5-minute intervals.

3. December 10: Made a trail of tomato juice on the floor leading to the rest rooms.

4. December 23: Walked up to an employee and told her in an official tone, “Code 3 in housewares!” … and watched what happened.

5. January 10: Went to the Service Desk and asked to reserve a bag of potato chips.

6. January 23: Moved a ‘CAUTION – WET FLOOR’ sign to a carpeted area.

7. February 15: Set up a tent in the camping department and told other shoppers he’d invite them in if they’d bring pillows from the bedding department.

8. March 5: When a clerk asked if she could help him, he threw himself down on the floor, began to cry and wailed, “Why can’t you people just leave me alone?’

9. March 26: Looked right into the security camera; used it as a mirror, and picked his nose.

10. April 2: While handling guns in the hunting department, asked the clerk if he knows where the antidepressants are.

11. April 15: Darted around the store, looking around suspiciously while loudly humming the “Mission Impossible” theme.

12. April 26: In the auto department, practiced his “Madonna look” using different size funnels.

13. May 1: Hid in a clothing rack and when people browsed through, yelled, “PICK ME! — PICK ME!”

14. May 12: When an announcement came over the loud speaker, he assumed the fetal position and screamed, “NO! NO! It’s those voices again!!!!”

And last, but not least:

15. May 16: Went into a fitting room, shut the door and waited a while; then yelled very loudly, “Hey, Somebody! I need some toilet paper in here!”

Sincerely,


Mr. Wally Brown
Walmart Complaint Department

Untethered....

Saw a short video the other day of a guy who'd figured out how to release his frustrations - he grabbed a baseball bat, went to a tether ball pole, pounded the ball one way with his bat, then pounded it the other way as it came around. And then he repeated, repeated, repeated.

I likes me some tether ball... but I remember back in the day when your hand would hit the metal fastener holding the ball to the rope and it hurt like crazy.

Marriage is, can be, kinda sorta like tether ball - and before I'm announced as the world's biggest pig, lemme explain. When one is tethered, it means they can run an idea by their mate to see if the logic floats. "No Herkimer, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," or, "Do whatever in the heck you wanna Gertrude" might be two answers.

When ya ain't gotta partner, you can still play tether ball - but you lose the sounding board of sanity.

So, logically deducting, I guess that means I'm insane. Oh well. Ha. Or, as one from the past put it "Victor, not everyone gets as all fired up about your ideas as you do." Mebbe that's why one day she rode off on a Harley, I dunno.

So, my idea today is short, and no, I ain't preaching. Just a suggestion.

A buddy o' mine, 40-something, lives/works here, lost his pa last year, his ma lives a couple States away. Of course one is devastated by the loss of a parent, particularly when it happens as young as 40-something. (Many, sadly, aren't even that lucky.) This dude loved his father - and he loves loves loves his mother too. She is his world.

One Miller Lite into our conversation, this buddy asked me how I planned to spend my week. "Same ole same ole, hopefully a lotta golf, and I hope visits with grandkids." "Cool." Then, being the complete idiot I can be (scroll to insane), I forgot to ask him what he was gonna do this week.

One Miller Lite later, I asked him. "Eh, nothing much, work, work, work." Untethered, I had an idea. "I think a goal for you this week would be to sit down and write your mom a letter to tell her how much you love her, and why that is." - Oh Vic, I talk to my mom WAY more than most people talk to their folks. - Knowing him, I knew that was probably true - but - untethered, I pressed on "Yeah but, I think it would be really cool, to grab pen and paper, and in your own handwriting, compose, cry if ya wanna, dote all ya wanna, slip it in an envelope, go buy a stamp and mail it to her."

Oh, I might do that. Untethered, "no, do that!.. Can't you just imagine her getting that letter in the mail, and how proud/happy she would be to read it? I could just see her keeping it in an end table drawer, and getting it out to reread whenever she needs a feel good, proud moment." Ya know Vic, that's a good idea, I WILL do that this week, a promise.

He then winged a compliment and it made me forget all about tether ball, lack of having another person to bounce ideas off of.

So, later, I was washing dishes, and it Dawned on me (pun mebbe intended.) "Victor, you're so high and mighty on your damn self that you mebbe had a good idea, WHYINTHEHELL don't you do it too?" This is beginning to be a soap opera. (Pun mebbe intended.)

So I'm gonna. We email. We text. We sometimes call. WE NEVER WRITE. I'm gonna pick four or five folks that I can envision being happy to fetch a handwritten letter outta their mailbox - and do just that, write a handwritten letter, seal it in an envelope, addy it, stamp it, and drop it in the mailbox.

Untethered. No parking by the sewer sign, hot dog, my razor broke, water dripping up the spout, but I don't care, let it all hang out. (Which is fancy for "untethered", it may not be a good idea, but I'm gonna do it.)

Another thought just came to mind. Heaven help us Victor, don't you remember "Victor, not everyone gets as all fired up about your ideas as you do." Yeah I do, but, just throwing this out, untethered, to all my married buddies. What better than handwriting a letter to your wife for no reason (not your anniversary, not her birthday, yada), seal that sucker, addy it, buy/affix stamp, mail it. Who knows, it might get you laid. (Sorry, scroll to untethered.)

Happy Tether ball. Don't hit your hand on that metal thingy. Makes it kinda hard to write.

Love, Victurd

Staring at a blank page on the desktop...

You lose, ha! Routine found me watching the News... checking email... thumbing thru Facebook... finally meandering to the desktop to mebbe write a blog........

I couldn't thinka one dog gone thing to write about... so I stared at this blank page long enough I remembered about the kid who turned in 'artwork' to his teacher - a blank 8 and 1/2 by 11 sheet of typing paper... she quizzically stared at him - without her even asking him, he offered "Rabbit in a snowstorm."

So........ staring came to mind.

"Life is becoming no more than staring at the screen." Tom Hodgkinson (I was staring at the red line underlining Hodgkison, but looked again, and that's how the dude spells it.)

My newest granddaughter, Bella, turns two this month. Of course, outta the womb, the eyes are temporarily incapable of focus.. as she went from kicking feet, to turning over.. to on her hands and knees rocking back and forth.. that focus ability happened. For THE LONGEST TIME, it was very much a 'measuring up' stare 'asking' "who the heck is this person that comes into my world, some days, but not all days, and how am I supposed to react around him?"

Thankfully, familiarity won out - and now stare is accompanied with a heart melting smile (hers followed by mine).

Answering the doorbell ring brings about interesting forms of staring. Whothehell are you and what do you want? Are you going to rob me, or, try to force your favored religion upon me? Pardon me while I stare intently, figuring out internally the fastest way to get out of this form of staring and get you on down to the next neighbor.

"Goo goo gah gah" is a favorite form of staring of mine. There is a precious couple, friends of mine, and I'm always amazed at their capability to say, without saying, "go away world, we're deeply entrenched with each other, and we don't need your/any, intervention." Such goo goo can go on for a lifetime I've noticed - or - get rearranged after the first poopy diaper, fishing trip, or girl's night out. The really lucky ones ne'er lose that stare - mebbe, the reason why the emptiness of death of an aged spouse so frequently is followed soon after by the death of the surviving spouse.

"People will stare. Make it worth their while." Harry Winston

Disbelief stares. The people of WalMart. The 'hold my beer and watch this' folks. Visits to a foreign (to you) city/place. Finding one's self on the losing end of a three hour baseball marathon only to see the other team "walk off" with victory. The "I can't believe you really just said that" stare that maybe outdoes even what was said. Stares talk, uh huh, they do.

Staring with one eye here, and one eye on my phone, I discovered the many crossword puzzle answers to "Stare in disbelief": gape, agape, pah, ibet, cynicism, denial, what, awe, gapeat.

We gots abbreviations for staring responses to things........ OMG.. OMFG.. SMH.. STFU.. IMHO.. WTH.. EM?... TMI.. Really?-without saying so. What in tarnation?-without saying so. You've GOT to be kidding?-without saying so.

Onea my favorite commercials (Victor, they've probably seen it, why do you bore them? BM, which, is my stare back to you, 'bite me'.) Anyways, gorgeous chick in a bar.. She's being stared at by two men sending their most amorous stares at her. One, a balding fat, older guy is way outta her league, and the other is an admittedly handsome dude, but he's quite egotistical. (Egotistical ciphered by his stares, expressions.) So, fat balding outta-his-league guy, walks by her table, lays down his "Room 537" Hotel key.. she scoops it up, bald guy walks off.. She stands, walks over to handsome (but egotistical) guy's table, lays down the "Room 537" Hotel key - and makes her way to the elevator. If only we coulda gotten the chance to see the stare on the faces of old bald guy and egotistical dude that followed that knock on the door. Now I can't even remember what the damn commercial was even for, so, that probably means is was Geico.

"Something I like to do a lot is just sit by the water when there's a current and just stare into the water. I don't fish, I don't hunt, I don't scuba, I don't spear, don't boat, don't play basketball or football - I excel at staring into space. I'm really good at that." Iggy Pop

People watching. It's staring too. When one is alone staring, you see something kinda cool or kinda outta the ordinary, the reaction is to swivel head, stare, and see if anyone else noticed that. When one is coupled, and you see "kinda cool" or "kinda outta ordinary" you simply swivel and stare at your mate, and your reciprocal stares say "holy shit", "did you see that? You did!".. Stares talk, silently. Sometimes they're accompanied by smile, laughter, skepticism, eye-rolling.

I catch myself occasionally staring, and it has ZILCH to do with visual - my brain is in deep thought about something else (scary, I know) and I have no comprehension of the events my eyes gaze out at.

Farts bring stares (and laughter from children.) Pee Wee's Big Adventure brought us "Why don't you take a picture, it wlll last longer?" - and, kids - as they age, learn inappropriate staring from mom/dad.

I remember from coaching, teaching - going over a learning example/situation - then, following with the requisite look out at the audience, to see, who took it in/understood, who was not paying attention, and the final group - lost in space, staring at you - but you could repeat the message a hunnerd times and they'd still be lost in space. Tina, on the 8th grade girl's basketball team was an example of 'lost in space', VICTOR, you can't do that! Just did! Sorry, kinda, Tina. One of my alltime favorite teachers, Dr. Keith David - he "added to" the requisite look to see who ciphered: He'd turn, stare out, and add "Dig?".. it brought him answering stares. He was so fun.

This has been pretty boring, sorry.. but sometimes that's just what staring is. I'm off to breakfast, staring at the KC Star, then pulling my pen out to attack the Saturday Sudoku puzzle, the hardest damn one of the week. It often ends with me staring, and staring, and giving up.

Soon after, I plan to roll to the City Park, take my newly purchased log chain out, wrap it around the big oak tree there, then affix the other end to the bashed in bumper on my car - and PULL, or, hit the gas a tad, in effort to 'unbend' the damn bumper. I would imagine I will attain stares from the local yokels - I just hope they ain't gotta cherry on toppa their car.

Go. Do. Stare. It can be fun. I planta.

Love, Victurd

Step on it.........

Daily morning addiction/routine drew me to my phone. Up popped yesterday's total # of steps: 9,485. Before getting all excited thinking I must look like Jack LaLanne - hark, I walked 9 holes of golf, then a buddy drove up and we met to play 18 more (riding a cart.) MANY a day goes by and I'm under 2,000 steps. It's a pattern (not very many steps) I wanna break, but, procrastinate oft. Thus, more like Fat Albert than the LaLanne fellow. Second thought, LaLanne is dead, mebbe I do look more like him.

Then it showed me today's steps (at 4:50am): 7. I wondered where the remainder of my steps for the day will/would go. Then I got all caught up in the word, step.

"The Eagle has landed. That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."

Thoughts turned to what steps experts would take to rescue the 12 boys and their coach trapped in a Thai cave for ten days. My next step was prayer. I cannot imagine the fear, guts of those kids, nor can I step into the shoes of their parents.

"Take a step back, evaluate what is important, and enjoy life." Teri Garr

My mind has always gone too fast. Scoff the notion that's braggadocios - to the contrary. Without taking a single step - I worry about this, who said what, what did what they say mean... what did what they DIDN'T say mean... what did their action/actions mean.. why do they act like this/that... how can they think from that angle... Thoughts without stepping is my/a burden. I wear it not so well.

Steppin' out. Several definitions, and yes, one is infidelity. Not a fun word. It also means to go away from a place usually for a short distance and for a short time. Heavens to Murgatroyd do we frequently need that in our World today, "exit, (stepping out) stage left."

My BFF is the only person I know my age that has worked out virtually every single day of their life. I dunno if the routine is the same (life, kids, grandkids have understandably caused us to not communicate as often as we did back in the day)... anyways, for you Liberty folks, he runs the stairs (up and down) of the Old High School FIVE times every day. I simply get tired driving up Franklin Street looking at them. What gives this person such pep in the step? Kudos.

Step on another's foot. Guilty. Every single time I think of, use, write the word R H Y T H M, I have to look up the spelling, thus, should give you an idea of my dancing inability.

Do Si Do "Face your partner, step past each other passing right shoulders and without turning around step back to back... Basic step, box step, feather step, inside partner step, lock step, time step.......... TWO STEP.............."Oh won't you gimme three steps, gimme three steps, gimme three steps toward the door? Gimme three."

You could lock me in Arthur Murray's Dance Studio for a year and I still would not have R H Y T H M. (Stepping aside from topic for a sec, Wiki tells me the AM Dance Studio is the 2nd oldest franchise in the US. Oldest? A&W Restaurants, circa 1919. Ah the root beer. 1961, little league ball diamond, Franklin School.. post game, moms/dads took turns buying for the entire team, 5 cents for a mug of root beer at A&W [Mugs Up] mere steps across Mill Street.)

Step back in time. I just did!

Step into the future. Not now, I don't wanna!

Lose your readers, phone, keys, wallet, credit card.... teeth -> bite me.. RETRACE your steps. Ah the steps science has taken. Friend placed phone on top of car. Friend drove off. Ooops. Thanks to find-a-phone technology, he followed the yellow brick road of retracing his steps and his phone was pinpointed electronically to be at such-and-such-mile-marker, in the median on Interstate, 4' from the Eastbound lane.

Step up. I will never forget those daunting words. College track meet loooong ago. I was a semi-ok long jumper in HS, but I had no business being on a college track team. Our team was down a point. All that was left was the long jump. "Vic, I didn't bring you along just for the ride.. time to step up." HA, we lost, the other guy's step was hella longer, jumping days ended that very day. Even being a realist I felt badly, but, then I remembered in baseball, it's considered pretty damn good when you step up 30% of the time. Hence, I quit, more stepping out with fraternity brothers I I was better at that anyways.

Step in dog do. The odor seemingly follows one step for step for an eternity.

Step in another's shoes. Impossible, but we all do it, or try at least. Again, back to worry, self pity... then, we think of the Thai parents.. the loved ones of the folks in today's obits... A step to slap one's self with "get over it, your life ain't so damn bad."

A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step....12-step... a step too far... art is going one step too far... baby steps... stepping stone.. one step ahead... out of step... fall into step (or dog do)... march in step... overstep, which I've done with this blog.

"Step with care and great tact, and remember that Life's a Great Big Balancing Act." Dr. Seuss

There are so so many wonderful motivational quotes about steps.. Lao Tzu, Tony Robbins, MLK, LBJ, Charles Atlas, Dag Hammarskjold, Thoreau, BahBah WahWah, yada...... but not for today.

I love the curiosity of wonder in how/where/when/how many steps will take me today. In spite of the perceived turmoil in our nation/world, I am extremely thankful for the freedom and ability to take those damn steps wherever I wanna, whenever I wanna (or not.)

Old age is wonderful for steps. Ya go slower, see more. Well, unless it's the readers you're searching for, or, the dog do you find without looking for.

Happy steps to you, I'm stepping out. Hark, that doesn't mean infidelity today, for it takes a partner to two step, do si do, three legged race, yada. It's all good though, I love the steps of life.

Love, Victurd