Roller Derby…

We roll thru life and try to see the view from other’s shoes. Sometimes it’s easy, sometimes it ain’t.

Slot car people. One track. There ain’t no changing’ ‘em, their views, so don’t even try. The trance of rolling along down the grooven path doesn’t allow the passenger to see any other way. Red line tells me ‘grooven’ ain’t a word. Should be. Politics, you say? Ultra religion mebbe? Doesn’t mean slot car people are ‘bad’, rather, to me, they prefer not to do their own thinking and are perfectly fine with that. If they’re good, I’m good. I, though, prefer to turn off, take a side road, mebbe pack a picnic lunch occasionally, try to see things from other modes of transporting thru life.

Sledders. Dangerous. They ain’t gots no control. Oh sure, slight degrees of turning their ‘vehicle’, but they mostly spiral outta control, and ends are rarely good.

Bulldozers. I have a hard time seeing the view from them there tracks. Little people be damned, I’m going where I want, whenever I want. It ain’t “don’t tread on me”, it’s “move your ass or I will tread on you.” Mebbe at least ½ of the one percent eh? I suppose that’s not fair, and probably some would view it as jeaous (and mebbe you’re correct, the money part, but not rolling over people), but, me thinks it’s also true.

Party bus folks. Many would say “very immature” and also, probably very true. This, however, I personally see as a wonderful mode of transporting thru life. Party bus conjures smiles, hugs, laughter, wide wide open eyes, stopping whenever, wherever it looks like there may be a good time. Monday thru Friday gets in the way of party bus folks, but come woo-hoo 5pm Friday, Katy bar the door. I just typed Katy bar the door and I ain’t really got the foggiest idea exactly what it means. (Simpleton, yes, fits me.) I see it means “take precautions, trouble ahead.” I personally think that definition of Katy bar the door moreso fits ‘sledders’.. and would more define Katy bar the door (from Party bus shoes) as “take pictures, fun ahead.”

Tractors. I likes me some tractor folks. Steady. Ne’er trying to ‘one up.’ Overall is the lone attire for the tractor goer, fits any damn ‘sitiation’ and I don’t really care what you think about it. Gimme my chew, careful whereya walk behind me, but not to be confused with slot car folks. Good sorts, gentle giants, usually in need of Burt’s Bees Hand Salve for their hands. They might shoot a deer, a turkey or a pheasant, but they’d never hurt a flea.

The “one car length behindya for whatever speed limit you’re going” people. Be it 10mph, they’re one car length behind. Fitty, same thing. 80mph, you can see their nose hair in the rear view mirror. I’m thinking they don’t own easy chairs, probably on one or two kindsa blood pressure medicine, and they have no concept of the view from the shoes of the tractor, the party bus, the slot car, yada. Scenery ain’t in their dictionary. Hard to comprehend if your BP is somewheres around 120 over 75. Ain’t no Coke or Budweiser in the cooler, it’s Red Bull or nuttin’.

Hummers. Victor, maybe you’re jealou$ again eh? Eh, I dunno. I do see (most) Hummers as needing attention. Once a week to the manicure/pedicure joint… wouldn’t be caught dead wearing something from Kohls or Target - and it’s usually a ‘handed down’ kinda thinking/lifestyle. Voted along the same party lines for years, cause that's what daddy did, and his daddy, and his daddy. I’d have to use a step stool to git up in a Hummer. That’s scary, so I’ll never begin to see from those shoes.

Smart car folks. They bring their own cloth grocery bags to Aldi’s, get their quarter back. Monthly calendar planned to a T. Don’t do Facebook, rather, they incessantly logon to their bank account. Every season, they take all unwanted, unused junk to the local Savers… the house is usually in order, and there ain’t an unwashed dish anywheres. What’s for dinner next Thursday, is already known.

Teslas. These are good folks, they just no likey to think for themselves. Some would call it henpecked. Others mebbe a Stepford wife. Their waterbed has baffles, or the mattress is set to the partner's sleep numbers. Not to be confused with slot car folks though. Slot car folks are there because they choose to - Tesla folks are there because it’s the only way they can make it thru life, assisted.

Victor, if you’re so damn smart, what are you? What ‘type’ do you drive? Well, I guess I more resemble a mutt. Yeah, but that ain’t a type of car, path.. S’more. OK, I am perhaps a known tightwad. I have no interest in paying collision insurance, so I buy ‘last leg’ vehicles, say a little prayer, then sweat my arse off when they eventually breakdown. Checkenginelight cars, so to speak. I occasionally enjoy sledding.. Sometimes I jump on the party bus.. I love riding a tractor, but the overalls usually chafe my crotch. Maybe, once they’ve been out fitteen years or so, I’ll buy a used Smart car (gas mileage). As I age, sometimes I get so tired a Tesla wouldn’t be a bad thing. See? I’m a mutt.

See the USA in your Chevrolet.

Oh what a feeling.

Like a rock.

NAPA know how.

First on race day, fix or repair daily?

Keep on truckin’ my friends.. Life’s good no matter what yer drivin’.

Victor?  Yes?  You're weird.... If you only knew how bigga compliment that is to me, THANKS!

By Henry Ford.

Love, Victurd