Tonight, many an anxious, excited 20-something, 30-something... along with quite a few 40-something, fitty-something, and a handful of 60-and over-something will don the little cone hats with the elastic string that really stings your chin if you let it slip while putting it on - and ring in the new year.
You say you want a revolution? Me? I'll take hats.
I have a friend, a wonderful friend.. been thru some really, really crappy times health wise... while at the same time juggling work, paying bills, not being able to work, struggling to pay bills, working, single parenting all the while.. and being one of the most dependable people I know - for years, and years, and years. She's making change in her life. A new hat... she'll lovingly place the old hat on the shelf so she can gaze at it periodically - to remember where she's been, the good, the struggle, the love.. her hat on the shelf is labeled "everyone else".. her new hat is penned "everyone else... and me." She's making a huge step in her life, I'm very proud of her.
Annuder friend... you live, you go, you do, you observe - and perception is "all is right." This friend, unbeknownst to many of us, had been living silently "all is not right." A good buddy from many years ago, "cut eye holes" in the hat (so to speak) so this person could see.. live.. breathe.. and (re)discover how truly blessed their life is. Far out. Mebbe, just mebbe, a revolution hat too.
I was gonna do the same ole same ole "this happened in 2018.. that happened in 2018... first time ever for _____.. gadget of the year.. big news events... here's to 2019 kinda stuff." yada, yada, yada - but that idea gave me heartburn and diarrhea.. TMI I know, sorry, but(t), just the facts ma'am, just the facts.
Instead, I like hats. My two friend's hats. Their new hats.
Yet another friend, he dons the same hat every Saturday when he goes to this charitable place and hands out groceries to those that have a tough time purchasing groceries. The really, really good ones (charitable givers) never talk about their deeds.. he doesn't, ever.. I only know because of conversations with his spouse.. he goes, he wears the hat, he gives, he goes home, he's back the next Saturday, wearing the hat, he gives - and it's repeated 52 times a year (and it started MANY a year ago.) God Bless.
Sooooooooooooooooooooooooo many wonderful people, so many amazing, colorful hats. The hound (and cat) folks. The ones that put on the "I know you don't have a home (hat), come live with me for awhile, then we'll try to find you a full-time home".. and as oft times it turns out, that hat becomes "Ok, why don't you just live here forever and ever (hat)"... Sure, you can 'smell' dog (or cat) once you enter, and uh huh, there's pet hair in the easy chair, BUT, freedom. Sing it Richie Havens, Freedom.. I think the lyrics say something like "Sometimes, I feel, like a motherless child." Not these pets, thanks to these wunnerful hat-wearers... Arf, meow, Yum.
The folks that wear the hats that resemble ski masks, have a fairly large hole for them to talk, breathe out of.. and they continually, and wonderfully, speak up and put us back on course when we're throwing a pity party, playing the game "ain't it awful", "woe is me" kinda stuff. They knock us, LOVINGLY, back to reality, BUT, with love. We may not exactly feel the love as we're reminded to "snap out of it", but, once we're back by our self, mebbe driving home, we thank them, and we bless these hats (and mouth-holes) and the heads that reside underneath.
We all, kinda sorta, live in "small worlds", yet are privy to surrounding ourselves with so many in wonderful hats. The joke-teller hat. The happy person hat. The dependable person hat. The organizer person hat. The family person hat. Sure, the mate person hat. The I-aint-seenya-in-such-a-longtime-but-it-feels-just-like-yesterday hat.
The kiss-and-make-up-hat... Sure we've each got a friend where somehow, somewhere, things went South. Happens. Sometimes it goes unrepaired. Sometimes, we put on our big boy pants and mend that fence, "kiss and make up." I went thru this this past year with a buddy who is equally as hardheaded as me, hehe. We men, well, we don't kiss and make up like maybe you chickys do (hey, we're just starting to udder the L-word, give us a hat-break)..well, we mended our fence.. Those hats are always nice, and sometimes never worn.. let's.. let's be thankful when we do put 'em on..
Midnight usedta be old hat to me. No more. I won't make it. Oh, I will don a hat, hey, even a kinda-sorta new hat to me (an O'Douls hat), and I will enjoy 2018 turning into 2019 during my REM's..
I'm simply thankful for all the wonderful hats in my/our lives.
Oh, hat's the way, uh-huh uh-huh I like it, uh-huh uh-huh....
By Henry Derby Gibson
Love, Victurd
Monday, December 31, 2018
Wednesday, December 26, 2018
I'm so glad we had this time together...
Just to have a laugh or sing a song
Seems we just got started
and before you know it
Comes the time we have to say
so long........
Bye Christmas... I/we had fun... Seeya in a year...
Tween now and then:
Google tells me, the average person eats 1,996 pounds of food a year, so, that means you have until December 20th to eat 1,796 pounds, to save space for the 200 pounds you normally eat during the five to six or so days of Christmas...
Aunt Hilda is halfway to Tucumcari by now.... the kids, grandkids have made their way home... we made it, we made it, but, it might have to be ramen noodle$ and a turned down therma$tat for the $hort term. (One eye on the $tock market tell$ me we can't count on... oh, nevermind.)
Odds are good you'll have a flat tire tween now and then... also good odds it'll (fortunately) happen in your driveway, but (unfortunately) it will happen on a day when you hit snooze six times and there ain't no way in hell you're gonna make it to work on time.(Not to worry, you will be late to work 5 more times [traffic, weather, power outage, yada] but they still love you so you will have a job, the funds to buy for next year.)
Road kill. Honey, I'm sorry to announce, you're probably gonna kill some kinda animal as you navigate behind the wheel this year. There are 325 million of us in the US (74 million of which are under 16 years of age) and there are approximately one million animals hit PER DAY, so, keep on truckin', don't swerve, and pray it's a mouse, or smaller and not Bambi, or worse, her daddy.
You will have no less than 4 races to destination you've never driven to, between your GPS, and, your remaining battery charge... You will go to the Piggly Wiggly 96 times, forget your list 12 times, and just simply forget items 23 times. You will walk an additional 7.4 miles switching aisles in that span to avoid conversation with old so-and-so's from back in the day.
Statistics bear out you will go to the gym to workout 93% of January, 74% of March, 32% of May, 6% in July... and by the time November rolls around, you will experience one of the 4 times above (race to unknown destination, GPS, remaining battery charge.)
24 times tween now and then you will watch a series episode of Netflix (or Showtime, HBO, Amazon, yada) show for an average of 13 minutes before you realize "Oh yeah, I've already watched this one." (Victor, you dumbass, that's 5 hours, 12 minutes of the next year you're going to completely waste.)
Retirees will nap 534 times tween now and then, working studs only 216 times. Odds are decent you won't get caught napping in your cubicle, but too, they're good you'll be on the sofa around 9-ish and hear "Hank - damnit, you're snoring, get your butt up and go to bed."
Caller ID will allow you to avoid 422 telemarketers, 215 relatives and 157 friend's calls. Autocorrect will cause arguments across the land, and some poor schmuck will never see the light of a 2nd date when he texts his gal "When's the 2nd date? I can't wait to see those big beautiful nipples of yours again. NO. I'm so sorry, I meant dimples, damn autocorrect. I did not mean to write nipples. I am going to jump off a bridge now."
Daylight Savings is March 10th, which means your stove clock will be corrected May 23rd. Some have already taken down their Christmas tree, some wait a few weeks, and some will do so in early Spring once the stench of the rotten damn pumpkins on the porch gets so bad and it reminds them "oh yeah, maybe we oughta take the tree down too."
THERE WILL BE TONS OF GOOD happen to tween now and then. You'll receive 423 compliments, wing 584 of 'em yourself. Your #4 with a Diet Coke at Mickey D's will be paid for by the guy/gal two cars aheada ya. That pair of jeans in the bottom drawer of the dresser? Yep, put 'em on 'cause there's a $20 bill in the pocket.
You will laugh, hopefully love. You will sing the wrong lyrics 743 times in the car as you drive here to there. You will "aha, gotcha" 36 times at the itch you just took care of with your backscratcher. Lucky you if it's a human backscratcher. You will make it to the restroom in time roughly 95% of the time in the next year. (Keep a change of clothes in the trunk, I do.)
NOW the bad, seriousness....... There will be loss in 2019. There was in 2018, it's a given it will happen again in the coming year. Your observances, experiences are probably similar to mine, but between loved ones and friends, I've witnessed the passing of people's grandparents, parents, spouses, siblings, children, classmates, good friends, coworkers, etc., in the past year.
We cannot forget that. We must wing the word love frequently. We must chose smile over frown, wonder over fraught. Love over spite. Sure, maybe never forget, but forgive. Those thoughts we have once we learn of the passing of so-and-so "Oh man, I was gonna call/go see him/her"..."I never told him/her how important they were to me, and how much I loved them" - well, we can do that now. Before we forget where the gym is. While we ain't changing a flat tire. Between now and 9pm when we snooze on the couch.
Victor? You preachin' again?
No sir. Just predictin', and reminding myself. Hitchhikers welcome.
I'm so glad we had this time together
Just to have a laugh or sing a song
Seems we just got started
and before you know it
Comes the time we have to say
so long........
Love, Victurd
Seems we just got started
and before you know it
Comes the time we have to say
so long........
Bye Christmas... I/we had fun... Seeya in a year...
Tween now and then:
Google tells me, the average person eats 1,996 pounds of food a year, so, that means you have until December 20th to eat 1,796 pounds, to save space for the 200 pounds you normally eat during the five to six or so days of Christmas...
Aunt Hilda is halfway to Tucumcari by now.... the kids, grandkids have made their way home... we made it, we made it, but, it might have to be ramen noodle$ and a turned down therma$tat for the $hort term. (One eye on the $tock market tell$ me we can't count on... oh, nevermind.)
Odds are good you'll have a flat tire tween now and then... also good odds it'll (fortunately) happen in your driveway, but (unfortunately) it will happen on a day when you hit snooze six times and there ain't no way in hell you're gonna make it to work on time.(Not to worry, you will be late to work 5 more times [traffic, weather, power outage, yada] but they still love you so you will have a job, the funds to buy for next year.)
Road kill. Honey, I'm sorry to announce, you're probably gonna kill some kinda animal as you navigate behind the wheel this year. There are 325 million of us in the US (74 million of which are under 16 years of age) and there are approximately one million animals hit PER DAY, so, keep on truckin', don't swerve, and pray it's a mouse, or smaller and not Bambi, or worse, her daddy.
You will have no less than 4 races to destination you've never driven to, between your GPS, and, your remaining battery charge... You will go to the Piggly Wiggly 96 times, forget your list 12 times, and just simply forget items 23 times. You will walk an additional 7.4 miles switching aisles in that span to avoid conversation with old so-and-so's from back in the day.
Statistics bear out you will go to the gym to workout 93% of January, 74% of March, 32% of May, 6% in July... and by the time November rolls around, you will experience one of the 4 times above (race to unknown destination, GPS, remaining battery charge.)
24 times tween now and then you will watch a series episode of Netflix (or Showtime, HBO, Amazon, yada) show for an average of 13 minutes before you realize "Oh yeah, I've already watched this one." (Victor, you dumbass, that's 5 hours, 12 minutes of the next year you're going to completely waste.)
Retirees will nap 534 times tween now and then, working studs only 216 times. Odds are decent you won't get caught napping in your cubicle, but too, they're good you'll be on the sofa around 9-ish and hear "Hank - damnit, you're snoring, get your butt up and go to bed."
Caller ID will allow you to avoid 422 telemarketers, 215 relatives and 157 friend's calls. Autocorrect will cause arguments across the land, and some poor schmuck will never see the light of a 2nd date when he texts his gal "When's the 2nd date? I can't wait to see those big beautiful nipples of yours again. NO. I'm so sorry, I meant dimples, damn autocorrect. I did not mean to write nipples. I am going to jump off a bridge now."
Daylight Savings is March 10th, which means your stove clock will be corrected May 23rd. Some have already taken down their Christmas tree, some wait a few weeks, and some will do so in early Spring once the stench of the rotten damn pumpkins on the porch gets so bad and it reminds them "oh yeah, maybe we oughta take the tree down too."
THERE WILL BE TONS OF GOOD happen to tween now and then. You'll receive 423 compliments, wing 584 of 'em yourself. Your #4 with a Diet Coke at Mickey D's will be paid for by the guy/gal two cars aheada ya. That pair of jeans in the bottom drawer of the dresser? Yep, put 'em on 'cause there's a $20 bill in the pocket.
You will laugh, hopefully love. You will sing the wrong lyrics 743 times in the car as you drive here to there. You will "aha, gotcha" 36 times at the itch you just took care of with your backscratcher. Lucky you if it's a human backscratcher. You will make it to the restroom in time roughly 95% of the time in the next year. (Keep a change of clothes in the trunk, I do.)
NOW the bad, seriousness....... There will be loss in 2019. There was in 2018, it's a given it will happen again in the coming year. Your observances, experiences are probably similar to mine, but between loved ones and friends, I've witnessed the passing of people's grandparents, parents, spouses, siblings, children, classmates, good friends, coworkers, etc., in the past year.
We cannot forget that. We must wing the word love frequently. We must chose smile over frown, wonder over fraught. Love over spite. Sure, maybe never forget, but forgive. Those thoughts we have once we learn of the passing of so-and-so "Oh man, I was gonna call/go see him/her"..."I never told him/her how important they were to me, and how much I loved them" - well, we can do that now. Before we forget where the gym is. While we ain't changing a flat tire. Between now and 9pm when we snooze on the couch.
Victor? You preachin' again?
No sir. Just predictin', and reminding myself. Hitchhikers welcome.
I'm so glad we had this time together
Just to have a laugh or sing a song
Seems we just got started
and before you know it
Comes the time we have to say
so long........
Love, Victurd
Monday, December 24, 2018
WHAT'S RIGHT?
Huh?
You're supposed to ask "WHAT'S WRONG?"
I reckon, but oft times I like to take the sdrawkcassab approach....
The Chiefs... Oh Lordy Lordy.. We've lost two in a row.. Three of five... Guy carries the ball like a loaf of bread, it's knocked out easily... our 4th string running back (now 1st string) fumbles... we add to our penalty total in 'leading' the league... more people dislike Bob Sutton than that guy on Twitter... our D-backs coach obviously tells 'em, shake their hand, arm, shoulder, side, anything, all-the-way-down-the-field so they don't get away...
Fuller, that Canadian Doctor dude, even the safety we cut that came back to be our 1st string safety are all now hurt.. it's been fugly..
Yeah but... What's right?
Whaddya mean what's right? I got a text from my cousin midway thru the 4th Quarter "Turning channel to Hallmark movie, at least there I'll know it will be a happy ending."
I shot my mouth off to a guy that grew up with me because he moved to Washington and is now a Seahawk fan... Now, eating crow. (Does it taste like chicken too?)...
My fingernails are gone... I'm glad my temper has subsided over the years because I stopped myself from throwing that perty vase thru my bigscreen TV...
I AIN'T gettin' any younger... neither is Andy Reid, Dustin Colquitt, Justin Houston, or Warpaint. Hell, is Warpaint still even alive? Shucks, Clark Hunt himself is fitty-three!
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, but what's right?
WHADDAYA MEAN WHAT'S RIGHT? Pollyanna, pffft, WHY do you always have to look for the positive?
Well... besides the fact that's important when jump starting a car, ahm, mebbe it'll lower your blood pressure too Victor. I DON'T NEED MY BLOOD PRESSURE LOWERED! AND DADGUMMIT, I WATCHED THE GAME, THE ENTIRE GAME, THEN I HADTA READ 5 PAGES ABOUT THE SAME DAMN THING THIS MORNING... How can you ask "What's right?"
Let's go back to the start Victor.. You mean like when that lady doctor delivered me in 1952? Well, no.. You mean kiddygarten, where for years I was like a C+ student, but proudly got my BS Degree in SIX long years of college? Well, not exactly...
Damnit then, WHAT? If you start going over my marital history, I AM gonna grab that perty vase and wing it right at your temple!
OK, OK, I won't!...
Let's go back to pre-season.. OK, let's...
And Victor, in pre-season, what did you think the Chief's record would be this year.. Eh, I dunno, I figured Mahomes would be good, but not as good as he's been.. I knew we'd take some lumps.. I think I guessed 8 and 8, maybe 9 and 7.
Uh huh, and what are we? Thank's for making me look at the damn paper again, we're 11 and 4.
And who do we play next week? Oakland. I love Andy, but I wish for one week he'd bring Marty in the help him, remember all those guys talking about "Raider week" back then? Yes, Victor I do. Can you tell me what Oakland's record is? Sure Poly, it's 3 and 11, and they play Denver tonight..
Ohhhh, so you mean they'll have one less day to prepare than us eh? Yeah, true, but can you imagine all the Rolaids our guys musta downed on that long flight home from SEA?
Victor, we're talking about what's right. OK, Poly. Next question.
So, we're 11-4, and let's cut Oakland a break, say they win tonight and will be 4-11. Yeah, go on...
And Victor, where will this game versus Oakland be played at? It's a home game pigskin-breath, you knew that. Yes, yes I did.
And Victor, if we win? Well, if we win, it means we ain't gotta go up to that airport just'n off'n I-29 by that Platte City Water tower. Yes Victor, we'd secure home field advantage all the way thru the playoffs.
Starting to feel better Victor? Oh sure Doc, now I suppose you're gonna tell me tomorrow is Christmas too. Ahm, Victor...
And Victor, even if we lose.. we'll still be in the playoffs.. and even if we lose then, well... you made it thru the two divorces didn't you? DAMN. You just missed me Victor, I dunno if that Humpty vase can be put back together or not!
OK, OK, OK, OK, I get the idea.. You win Poly. I know I have a tendency to ask myself "what's wrong" when it should be the other way around, but you see, I was a C+ stu.. VICTOR!!!! OK dangit. You're right, there's a lot right.
Mahomes has been incredible, and SO much fun to watch. All that, plus he's humble. Hill, Kelce, Jones, Ford, Houston, many, yum. I ain't had this much fun since EJ Holub's 14th knee surgery...the season has been a blast.
Hey Doc, or pigskin-breath or Poly, whatever your name is? Yes Victor. I appreciate you straightening me out. Reckon life is all about how you look out the helmet eh? Yes Victor, I reckon it is... You ain't by chance a chiropractor too areya? Ahm, no Victor, I'm not, why? What's wro.... oh, nevermind. Hey, have a Merry Christmas. You too Doc.
GO CHIEFS!
By Henry Stram Gibson,
Love, Victurd
You're supposed to ask "WHAT'S WRONG?"
I reckon, but oft times I like to take the sdrawkcassab approach....
The Chiefs... Oh Lordy Lordy.. We've lost two in a row.. Three of five... Guy carries the ball like a loaf of bread, it's knocked out easily... our 4th string running back (now 1st string) fumbles... we add to our penalty total in 'leading' the league... more people dislike Bob Sutton than that guy on Twitter... our D-backs coach obviously tells 'em, shake their hand, arm, shoulder, side, anything, all-the-way-down-the-field so they don't get away...
Fuller, that Canadian Doctor dude, even the safety we cut that came back to be our 1st string safety are all now hurt.. it's been fugly..
Yeah but... What's right?
Whaddya mean what's right? I got a text from my cousin midway thru the 4th Quarter "Turning channel to Hallmark movie, at least there I'll know it will be a happy ending."
I shot my mouth off to a guy that grew up with me because he moved to Washington and is now a Seahawk fan... Now, eating crow. (Does it taste like chicken too?)...
My fingernails are gone... I'm glad my temper has subsided over the years because I stopped myself from throwing that perty vase thru my bigscreen TV...
I AIN'T gettin' any younger... neither is Andy Reid, Dustin Colquitt, Justin Houston, or Warpaint. Hell, is Warpaint still even alive? Shucks, Clark Hunt himself is fitty-three!
Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh, but what's right?
WHADDAYA MEAN WHAT'S RIGHT? Pollyanna, pffft, WHY do you always have to look for the positive?
Well... besides the fact that's important when jump starting a car, ahm, mebbe it'll lower your blood pressure too Victor. I DON'T NEED MY BLOOD PRESSURE LOWERED! AND DADGUMMIT, I WATCHED THE GAME, THE ENTIRE GAME, THEN I HADTA READ 5 PAGES ABOUT THE SAME DAMN THING THIS MORNING... How can you ask "What's right?"
Let's go back to the start Victor.. You mean like when that lady doctor delivered me in 1952? Well, no.. You mean kiddygarten, where for years I was like a C+ student, but proudly got my BS Degree in SIX long years of college? Well, not exactly...
Damnit then, WHAT? If you start going over my marital history, I AM gonna grab that perty vase and wing it right at your temple!
OK, OK, I won't!...
Let's go back to pre-season.. OK, let's...
And Victor, in pre-season, what did you think the Chief's record would be this year.. Eh, I dunno, I figured Mahomes would be good, but not as good as he's been.. I knew we'd take some lumps.. I think I guessed 8 and 8, maybe 9 and 7.
Uh huh, and what are we? Thank's for making me look at the damn paper again, we're 11 and 4.
And who do we play next week? Oakland. I love Andy, but I wish for one week he'd bring Marty in the help him, remember all those guys talking about "Raider week" back then? Yes, Victor I do. Can you tell me what Oakland's record is? Sure Poly, it's 3 and 11, and they play Denver tonight..
Ohhhh, so you mean they'll have one less day to prepare than us eh? Yeah, true, but can you imagine all the Rolaids our guys musta downed on that long flight home from SEA?
Victor, we're talking about what's right. OK, Poly. Next question.
So, we're 11-4, and let's cut Oakland a break, say they win tonight and will be 4-11. Yeah, go on...
And Victor, where will this game versus Oakland be played at? It's a home game pigskin-breath, you knew that. Yes, yes I did.
And Victor, if we win? Well, if we win, it means we ain't gotta go up to that airport just'n off'n I-29 by that Platte City Water tower. Yes Victor, we'd secure home field advantage all the way thru the playoffs.
Starting to feel better Victor? Oh sure Doc, now I suppose you're gonna tell me tomorrow is Christmas too. Ahm, Victor...
And Victor, even if we lose.. we'll still be in the playoffs.. and even if we lose then, well... you made it thru the two divorces didn't you? DAMN. You just missed me Victor, I dunno if that Humpty vase can be put back together or not!
OK, OK, OK, OK, I get the idea.. You win Poly. I know I have a tendency to ask myself "what's wrong" when it should be the other way around, but you see, I was a C+ stu.. VICTOR!!!! OK dangit. You're right, there's a lot right.
Mahomes has been incredible, and SO much fun to watch. All that, plus he's humble. Hill, Kelce, Jones, Ford, Houston, many, yum. I ain't had this much fun since EJ Holub's 14th knee surgery...the season has been a blast.
Hey Doc, or pigskin-breath or Poly, whatever your name is? Yes Victor. I appreciate you straightening me out. Reckon life is all about how you look out the helmet eh? Yes Victor, I reckon it is... You ain't by chance a chiropractor too areya? Ahm, no Victor, I'm not, why? What's wro.... oh, nevermind. Hey, have a Merry Christmas. You too Doc.
GO CHIEFS!
By Henry Stram Gibson,
Love, Victurd
Sunday, December 23, 2018
With tongue in Egg Nog, I approve this message...
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was working, not even Twitter's mouse
The Bank Deposit Slips were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that The Wall funding, would soon would be there
The child was nestled all snug in his bed
While visions of inheritance danced in his head
Mamma in her 'I really don't care' nightie, and DT in his cap
They'd settled their brains for a long winter's nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
They sprang from the bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window they flew like a flash
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below
When, what to their wondering eyes was this mayhem
But a miniature sleigh, and eight drunken Dems
With a little old driver, so lively and squirmy
They knew in a moment it must be Ole Bernie
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Chuck! now, Nancy! now, Biden and Beto!
On, Cory! On NAFTA and of course on NATO!
To the top of the porch! TO HELL WITH YOUR WALL!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
Sorry, kinda. Not really,
By Henry Gibson
Love, Victurd
Not a creature was working, not even Twitter's mouse
The Bank Deposit Slips were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that The Wall funding, would soon would be there
The child was nestled all snug in his bed
While visions of inheritance danced in his head
Mamma in her 'I really don't care' nightie, and DT in his cap
They'd settled their brains for a long winter's nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
They sprang from the bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window they flew like a flash
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below
When, what to their wondering eyes was this mayhem
But a miniature sleigh, and eight drunken Dems
With a little old driver, so lively and squirmy
They knew in a moment it must be Ole Bernie
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Chuck! now, Nancy! now, Biden and Beto!
On, Cory! On NAFTA and of course on NATO!
To the top of the porch! TO HELL WITH YOUR WALL!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
Sorry, kinda. Not really,
By Henry Gibson
Love, Victurd
With tongue in Egg Nog, I approve this message...
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was working, not even Twitter's mouse
The Bank Deposit Slips were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that The Wall funding, would soon would be there
The child was nestled all snug in his bed
While visions of inheritance danced in his head
Mamma in her 'I really don't care' nightie, and DT in his cap
They'd settled their brains for a long winter's nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
They sprang from the bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window they flew like a flash
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below
When, what to their wondering eyes was this mayhem
But a miniature sleigh, and eight drunken Dems
With a little old driver, so lively and squirmy
They knew in a moment it must be Ole Bernie
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Chuck! now, Nancy! now, Biden and Beto!
On, Cory! On NAFTA and of course on NATO!
To the top of the porch! TO HELL WITH YOUR WALL!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
Sorry, kinda. Not really,
By Henry Gibson
Love, Victurd
Not a creature was working, not even Twitter's mouse
The Bank Deposit Slips were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that The Wall funding, would soon would be there
The child was nestled all snug in his bed
While visions of inheritance danced in his head
Mamma in her 'I really don't care' nightie, and DT in his cap
They'd settled their brains for a long winter's nap
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
They sprang from the bed to see what was the matter
Away to the window they flew like a flash
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below
When, what to their wondering eyes was this mayhem
But a miniature sleigh, and eight drunken Dems
With a little old driver, so lively and squirmy
They knew in a moment it must be Ole Bernie
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now Chuck! now, Nancy! now, Biden and Beto!
On, Cory! On NAFTA and of course on NATO!
To the top of the porch! TO HELL WITH YOUR WALL!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
Sorry, kinda. Not really,
By Henry Gibson
Love, Victurd
Saturday, December 22, 2018
RX.......
Be nice.
Love children. You are one, forever (if you're lucky).
Smoke pot if it's legal in your State. It ain't here, so I don't. But me thinks I would if it was. Ever seen a fistfight and a bong on the same back porch? Me neither. Besides, who doesn't love Doritos?
Laugh. At yourself. Your zipper may be down. Your shirt inside-out. Could be a dryer sheet falling from the cuff of your pants. You might button your shirt/blouse starting with the wrong buttonhole. You, I, may just simply look funny. Feast on it.
The rear view mirror. Mean people, drive on. Past woes, zoom zoom. Zits, use the mirror in-between the front seats - otherwise you'll look like a dog.....well, that, and telephone poles.
Any time you can pee, do so.
Brush your chops, regularly.. it's much easier when they're in your mouth than when you're holding them in in your hand.
Make lists:
"I was taking a nap." "I went to the gym, left my phone in the car." "I was talking to someone else and I couldn't figure out how to talk to two people at once on my damn phone." (Suggestions for when asked "why didn't you answer when I called?")
Grocery lists. Cause it's fun to cuss at the Piggly Wiggly when you realize you forgot it. When you cuss, do so in the bread aisle, not the frozen food aisle... you might offend someone and get a pint of Haagen-Dazs bounced off your noggin.
To do lists, so, when you retire, you can put it over here, so you can do tomorrow.
Be nice to old people. Good Lord willin', we'll be one.
Dance, even if you suck at it like me. With much practice, it will help you to do the pee pee dance when all the urinals/stalls are occupied.
Hold a door. Let someone checkout in front of you. Especially if you are a 'derriere' man (or woman). Sorry. Kinda. Not really.
If you get really mad at someone, go to the bathroom. Stare in the mirror, pretend 'it's them.' Have at. Cusswords allowed. Get it out. Yeah baby, that's right, "and so is your old man." Who knows, you might also see ear/nose hairs that need plucking.
Always use good, bright lighting. It will show imperfection. We are that.
Take a nap, anytime you can. Ever fistfight, get mad, run into someone you didn't wanna, eat too much, spend too much, worry too much, reenergize too much during a nap? Me neither.
Crank the music. It will prepare you for old age when you have to.
Smile. A lot. Smiles feel good. Smiles are nice to look at. When you smile, folks wonder why. You, the smilee', can boast a large list of reasons for it. You no likey the other person but you remember it feels good to smile. You like them, so you smile. You just got laid. You're maybe just about to get laid. Smile, best laid plans of mice and men. Sure, "an apple a day", but I lean more towards smiles. Seems to lower blood pressure. Talk. Unite.
When I go into any place public, I honestly search to stare at someone who continually boasts a beautiful smile. I'm being serious, I can do that. I admire that person. I applaud whomever raised that person. I pray for good things for that person. I have full confidence that person has confidence in themselves - and, that they are a blessing to the people in their lives. Oh what a wonderful RX to this thing called life.
Praise, be it someone's smile, dress, hat, coat, new purse, jeans, living room set, window ornament... or simply praise them "just for being them".. I find, anyways, it's very nice to be on the receiving end of praise. Feel good, what better? Ok yes, sex, but, hey, maybe you'll get praised for that? EVEN better'n a Peanut Buster Parfait!
Enjoy - it is a choice you know?.
Remember, good follows bad.
The very best hitters in baseball are successful one in every three attempts.
Silence is golden...especially in those first five seconds when someone has said something that really peeves you... I struggle with this one. I wanna toss that Haagen-Dazs right back at 'em, knock 'em over, throw a punch, yada.. Nope. Can't. When I think of the people I respect and admire the most - they ALL share the quality of not being a "blurter". Yum. Calmness, smile, love wins out. Every time.
About worry: “When I look back on all these worries, I remember the story of the old man who said on his deathbed that he had had a lot of trouble in his life, most of which had never happened.” – Winston Churchill
Love. Yes, we all may get burned, but what better than to have loved?
Mix it up. I guess I've done that, without intent, above. There are times it's so fun to be a dork, and times it feels so very good to be serious. We needs both. Sure, we can messup the timing on each of those.. we be human, hear us error.
Love yourself. We ain't perfect, no one is. (That just gave me an idea.. shoulda named my child "No One." As in, No One is perfect!)
I love you, and I wish you a Merry Christmas and a happy prescription for life.
Stay away from the eggnog, yuck, stand under the mistletoe.
By Henry RX Gibson,
Love, Victurd
Love children. You are one, forever (if you're lucky).
Smoke pot if it's legal in your State. It ain't here, so I don't. But me thinks I would if it was. Ever seen a fistfight and a bong on the same back porch? Me neither. Besides, who doesn't love Doritos?
Laugh. At yourself. Your zipper may be down. Your shirt inside-out. Could be a dryer sheet falling from the cuff of your pants. You might button your shirt/blouse starting with the wrong buttonhole. You, I, may just simply look funny. Feast on it.
The rear view mirror. Mean people, drive on. Past woes, zoom zoom. Zits, use the mirror in-between the front seats - otherwise you'll look like a dog.....well, that, and telephone poles.
Any time you can pee, do so.
Brush your chops, regularly.. it's much easier when they're in your mouth than when you're holding them in in your hand.
Make lists:
"I was taking a nap." "I went to the gym, left my phone in the car." "I was talking to someone else and I couldn't figure out how to talk to two people at once on my damn phone." (Suggestions for when asked "why didn't you answer when I called?")
Grocery lists. Cause it's fun to cuss at the Piggly Wiggly when you realize you forgot it. When you cuss, do so in the bread aisle, not the frozen food aisle... you might offend someone and get a pint of Haagen-Dazs bounced off your noggin.
To do lists, so, when you retire, you can put it over here, so you can do tomorrow.
Be nice to old people. Good Lord willin', we'll be one.
Dance, even if you suck at it like me. With much practice, it will help you to do the pee pee dance when all the urinals/stalls are occupied.
Hold a door. Let someone checkout in front of you. Especially if you are a 'derriere' man (or woman). Sorry. Kinda. Not really.
If you get really mad at someone, go to the bathroom. Stare in the mirror, pretend 'it's them.' Have at. Cusswords allowed. Get it out. Yeah baby, that's right, "and so is your old man." Who knows, you might also see ear/nose hairs that need plucking.
Always use good, bright lighting. It will show imperfection. We are that.
Take a nap, anytime you can. Ever fistfight, get mad, run into someone you didn't wanna, eat too much, spend too much, worry too much, reenergize too much during a nap? Me neither.
Crank the music. It will prepare you for old age when you have to.
Smile. A lot. Smiles feel good. Smiles are nice to look at. When you smile, folks wonder why. You, the smilee', can boast a large list of reasons for it. You no likey the other person but you remember it feels good to smile. You like them, so you smile. You just got laid. You're maybe just about to get laid. Smile, best laid plans of mice and men. Sure, "an apple a day", but I lean more towards smiles. Seems to lower blood pressure. Talk. Unite.
When I go into any place public, I honestly search to stare at someone who continually boasts a beautiful smile. I'm being serious, I can do that. I admire that person. I applaud whomever raised that person. I pray for good things for that person. I have full confidence that person has confidence in themselves - and, that they are a blessing to the people in their lives. Oh what a wonderful RX to this thing called life.
Praise, be it someone's smile, dress, hat, coat, new purse, jeans, living room set, window ornament... or simply praise them "just for being them".. I find, anyways, it's very nice to be on the receiving end of praise. Feel good, what better? Ok yes, sex, but, hey, maybe you'll get praised for that? EVEN better'n a Peanut Buster Parfait!
Enjoy - it is a choice you know?.
Remember, good follows bad.
The very best hitters in baseball are successful one in every three attempts.
Silence is golden...especially in those first five seconds when someone has said something that really peeves you... I struggle with this one. I wanna toss that Haagen-Dazs right back at 'em, knock 'em over, throw a punch, yada.. Nope. Can't. When I think of the people I respect and admire the most - they ALL share the quality of not being a "blurter". Yum. Calmness, smile, love wins out. Every time.
About worry: “When I look back on all these worries, I remember the story of the old man who said on his deathbed that he had had a lot of trouble in his life, most of which had never happened.” – Winston Churchill
Love. Yes, we all may get burned, but what better than to have loved?
Mix it up. I guess I've done that, without intent, above. There are times it's so fun to be a dork, and times it feels so very good to be serious. We needs both. Sure, we can messup the timing on each of those.. we be human, hear us error.
Love yourself. We ain't perfect, no one is. (That just gave me an idea.. shoulda named my child "No One." As in, No One is perfect!)
I love you, and I wish you a Merry Christmas and a happy prescription for life.
Stay away from the eggnog, yuck, stand under the mistletoe.
By Henry RX Gibson,
Love, Victurd
Friday, December 21, 2018
Kodachrome... They give us those nice bright colors..
They give us the greens of summers..
Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, Oh yeah..
I got a Nikon camera I love to take a photograph,
So mama don't take my Kodachrome away...
Mama don’t take my Kodachrome away
Mama don’t take my Kodachrome away
Mama don’t take my Kodachrome away...
My mama would never do that. She's nicer than your mom. I'M KIDDING, RELAX! (But she WAS very nice!)
I'm here to tellya the normal crud an old fogie (or, "OG" as my son calls me) usually complains about...
The dadburn weather... My arthritis, bursitis, gastritis... And, the Government.. the Gol' durn Government.
We've been on this Earth since the Korean War, before man walked on the moon, heck, Babe Ruth even held the record for homers back when we were in cloth diapers. Bottomline, we've been here hella.
Picture this...
I miss pictures. Oh, I know, we pass around the damn camera.. gotta figure out if we scroll left/right, or right/left, or down/up, or up/down, and by the time we get all that figured out - the phone has been through it's allotted delay and we gotta asked the owner of the Iphone, Android, Samsung, Apple, OnePlus, LG, "howinthehell do we get it back so we can see the pictures?"
I am somewhere in-between the granny you see using whiteout on the computer screen, and the cranky old fart who gripes for 7 months any time there is an IT 'enhancement.'...OK, I chopped down the Cherry Tree, and that's me, the guy that gripes for 7 months.
I miss pictures.
Our children's children's children? How can we know, electronically, all these pictures will still be here when their children have children? What if.. what if.. them basta's from Russia..or the Ukraine.. or..wherever, HACK into our lives, cameras, phones, laptops, yada, and we will never again see a pic of Granny.. or, Skip, the hound dog.. or Court Street back in 1959?
You think I'm kiddin? The basta's, said lovingly, in Russia,have viewed this blog 3,060 times, the Ukraine 1,635, and 'Unknown Region' 790 times. Убери свои чертовы руки от моих фото AND Зберігайте свої руїни з моїх фотографій (That's "Keep your damn hands off my pics" in Russian and Ukrainian. I have no idea what to do about those "Unknown Region" basta's.)
Gimme REAL PICS that I can hold in my hands. You know, the kind you usedta take, the little flash cube thing on top had rotated for the 4th time, rendering it useless, so you burned your damn hand taking it off, BUT.. BUT... you gotta run the film thingy down to Fotomat and in a few days.... PRESTO.. REAL PICS..
I'm talking ALBUMS... Blowin' 'em up, HANGING PICS ON THE WALL... Back from the day when 'rabbit ears' was vogue, and photo-bomb was unheard of.
Hell, you could go to Dolgins, hop in the photo booth, make stupid pick-your-nose, stick-your-tongue-out, thumbs-in-ears-fingers-out-wigglin' pics for FITTY CENTS, and PRESTO, by the time you got back out and closed the curtain, there they were, sliding down into a tray where you could take them home, pass them around.. PUT THEM IN ALBUMS.. to keep.. FOREVER.
I no trusty, electronics. Color me old. (I miss the black and whites too.. remember, the little sticky things you put on every corner of the pic so it didn't shrivel up when you accidentally left it on the dash in Grandpa's car?)
And... as a kid.. you gotta packet of pics at school. There was a huge one for mom and dad. A ton of small ones for all the snotnoses in your class to trade with. And then some medium sized ones. You'd give one to Granny.. Maybe a couple Aunts.. And there was one leftover you'd hand out (kinda like that BIGGEST Valentine in your box) to the one in 3rd grade you eventually thought you'd run off, get married to.. You'd hand it to her and say "Swear to goodness I wasn't lookin' that day you wore the dress on the jungle gym, but I think you're really perty... maybe someday we could get merried?" (or something like that.)
I have boxes. Lots of boxes. Within those boxes are albums. Lots of albums. Lots of pics. Add em all up, that's a lotta pics. Any time I can, wanna.. I can dig thru, turn the pages, and see - right then and there, pics from the Fitties, 60's, 70's, yada.
Then, I have a 3 inch, by 5 and 1/2 inch phone, a quarter inch thick... the battry (that's how we old folks talk 'battery') runs out in a few hours. I think I'm on my 12th phone since the bag phone days. There are MAYBE as many pics in my little phone as there are in all those wonderful boxes fulla albums. You tell me, do I trust the dusty ole' boxes will be there, or, that goshdarn electronic thing the Russians may screw up, or, that I might drop it in the toilet, leave it on toppa the car one day when I go visit fellow old codgers at the Piggly Wiggly? Uh huh, what I thought.
I no trusty electronics.
Besides. The lady at Fotomat was kinda hot. 'Course, she's prolly 87 now, but that matters none.
Mama don’t take my Kodachrome away (or Ruskies, Ukrainians either)
By Henry "Say Cheese" Gibson,
Love, Victurd
Makes you think all the world's a sunny day, Oh yeah..
I got a Nikon camera I love to take a photograph,
So mama don't take my Kodachrome away...
Mama don’t take my Kodachrome away
Mama don’t take my Kodachrome away
Mama don’t take my Kodachrome away...
My mama would never do that. She's nicer than your mom. I'M KIDDING, RELAX! (But she WAS very nice!)
I'm here to tellya the normal crud an old fogie (or, "OG" as my son calls me) usually complains about...
The dadburn weather... My arthritis, bursitis, gastritis... And, the Government.. the Gol' durn Government.
We've been on this Earth since the Korean War, before man walked on the moon, heck, Babe Ruth even held the record for homers back when we were in cloth diapers. Bottomline, we've been here hella.
Picture this...
I miss pictures. Oh, I know, we pass around the damn camera.. gotta figure out if we scroll left/right, or right/left, or down/up, or up/down, and by the time we get all that figured out - the phone has been through it's allotted delay and we gotta asked the owner of the Iphone, Android, Samsung, Apple, OnePlus, LG, "howinthehell do we get it back so we can see the pictures?"
I am somewhere in-between the granny you see using whiteout on the computer screen, and the cranky old fart who gripes for 7 months any time there is an IT 'enhancement.'...OK, I chopped down the Cherry Tree, and that's me, the guy that gripes for 7 months.
I miss pictures.
Our children's children's children? How can we know, electronically, all these pictures will still be here when their children have children? What if.. what if.. them basta's from Russia..or the Ukraine.. or..wherever, HACK into our lives, cameras, phones, laptops, yada, and we will never again see a pic of Granny.. or, Skip, the hound dog.. or Court Street back in 1959?
You think I'm kiddin? The basta's, said lovingly, in Russia,have viewed this blog 3,060 times, the Ukraine 1,635, and 'Unknown Region' 790 times. Убери свои чертовы руки от моих фото AND Зберігайте свої руїни з моїх фотографій (That's "Keep your damn hands off my pics" in Russian and Ukrainian. I have no idea what to do about those "Unknown Region" basta's.)
Gimme REAL PICS that I can hold in my hands. You know, the kind you usedta take, the little flash cube thing on top had rotated for the 4th time, rendering it useless, so you burned your damn hand taking it off, BUT.. BUT... you gotta run the film thingy down to Fotomat and in a few days.... PRESTO.. REAL PICS..
I'm talking ALBUMS... Blowin' 'em up, HANGING PICS ON THE WALL... Back from the day when 'rabbit ears' was vogue, and photo-bomb was unheard of.
Hell, you could go to Dolgins, hop in the photo booth, make stupid pick-your-nose, stick-your-tongue-out, thumbs-in-ears-fingers-out-wigglin' pics for FITTY CENTS, and PRESTO, by the time you got back out and closed the curtain, there they were, sliding down into a tray where you could take them home, pass them around.. PUT THEM IN ALBUMS.. to keep.. FOREVER.
I no trusty, electronics. Color me old. (I miss the black and whites too.. remember, the little sticky things you put on every corner of the pic so it didn't shrivel up when you accidentally left it on the dash in Grandpa's car?)
And... as a kid.. you gotta packet of pics at school. There was a huge one for mom and dad. A ton of small ones for all the snotnoses in your class to trade with. And then some medium sized ones. You'd give one to Granny.. Maybe a couple Aunts.. And there was one leftover you'd hand out (kinda like that BIGGEST Valentine in your box) to the one in 3rd grade you eventually thought you'd run off, get married to.. You'd hand it to her and say "Swear to goodness I wasn't lookin' that day you wore the dress on the jungle gym, but I think you're really perty... maybe someday we could get merried?" (or something like that.)
I have boxes. Lots of boxes. Within those boxes are albums. Lots of albums. Lots of pics. Add em all up, that's a lotta pics. Any time I can, wanna.. I can dig thru, turn the pages, and see - right then and there, pics from the Fitties, 60's, 70's, yada.
Then, I have a 3 inch, by 5 and 1/2 inch phone, a quarter inch thick... the battry (that's how we old folks talk 'battery') runs out in a few hours. I think I'm on my 12th phone since the bag phone days. There are MAYBE as many pics in my little phone as there are in all those wonderful boxes fulla albums. You tell me, do I trust the dusty ole' boxes will be there, or, that goshdarn electronic thing the Russians may screw up, or, that I might drop it in the toilet, leave it on toppa the car one day when I go visit fellow old codgers at the Piggly Wiggly? Uh huh, what I thought.
I no trusty electronics.
Besides. The lady at Fotomat was kinda hot. 'Course, she's prolly 87 now, but that matters none.
Mama don’t take my Kodachrome away (or Ruskies, Ukrainians either)
By Henry "Say Cheese" Gibson,
Love, Victurd
Thursday, December 20, 2018
A little ditty, bout a rabbit in a snowstorm........
That (rabbit in a snowstorm, aka 'blank page') is how every great novel, loving poem, preacher's sermon, really below average blog, and heaven help us, even every 'promvite' begins.
It be kinda like life in a way....
A little ditty 'bout Jack and Diane...
Two American kids growing up in the heart land...
Lived on Park Street...House, yard, kept neat..
Nicest folks you'd ever meet..
Jack did the 9 to 5....
Supper ready when he'd arrive...
Lil' Tina, Timmy, followed in their steps...
Ah, a perfect world, far, far from schleps..
Their lives plotted out, just as they should...
Two American kids doin' the best that they could...
Ain't that kinda how it goes?
I dug into (that's blogspeak for "stole from") an article by Matthew Hornsey - a Social Psychologist at the University of Queensland.. As a kid, Matthew was fascinated by the genie-in-the-bottle three wish thingy. Later as an adult, he did a study based on "How long do you want to live?; How smart would you want to be?; How much happiness, pleasure, freedom, health and self esteem would you ideally like to have?"
How perfect would you want your Jack and Diane world?
A 27 Nation sample size.. Modest, the results were.. "Live to be 90", eh, they coulda said a hunnerd and twelve.. IQ of 130, which is smart, but genius begins at 140... and when asked about how much health, happiness, pleasure, freedom and self-esteem (on a scale from none to 100%) the answers came in around 70-80%.
I no speaky the Queen's English, but this kinda tells me mebbe folks think too much of a good thing can be harmful.. or, borrowing from the article, like the Greek myths preached "too much ambition (Icarus), too much wealth (Midas), too much longevity (Tithonus) and too much self-love (Narcissus.)
So, logically, that would probably mean Jack drives a used Ford Escape (liability only), has a donut on the left rear, Diane smokes three packs a day, downs two shots of Hot Damn just before the kids get home, Tina is sexually active in the 10th grade, and 12 yr old Timmy has a pack of Marlboro Lights (stolen from mommy) in his trombone case.
I jest, but usually only on Thursdays.
Or, as the Queensland dude would say "More is not always better. Recent theorizing and data suggest that many psychological variables that seem objectively positive can have ironic negative effects on well-being when experienced in extremely high quantities."
Jacky sits back, collects his thoughts for the moment,
Scratches his head and does his best James Dean
"Well then, there Diane, we ought to run off to the city"
Diane says, "Baby you ain't missin' nothing,
But Jacky say
Oh yeah, life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone
Oh yeah say life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone.
Victor. Damnit. Somewhere along the way an avalanche happened and your stupid rabbit got buried... Oh contrare (and Tina says "whew, the rabbit didn't die").. I think I'm just trying to say "simple works", or, that maybe "simple is ok."
SURE, have goals, dream.. take care of your body.. love, love love one another.. have pleasure (but damnit Tina, not too much!).. love yourself, but know, "my way or the highway" usually leads to a lonely road. There are bumps in the road no matter what you drive, and please don't exceed 45mph with a damn donut on your car.
To reach Success Street, one must GPS across Hardknocks Lane, swerve around orange cones, dead ends, construction. Life's infrastructure, so to speak. And with that, one's ideas on success are certainly objective. Written to me, hitchhikers welcome - life has its own way of beating ones self up, don't you do it too.
Gonna let it rock,
Let it roll,
Let the Bible belt come and save my soul
Hold on to sixteen as long as you can
Changes come around real soon
Make us women and men.
I haven't had a beer in six days.. I've been eating smoothies made from real fruit, even with some yogart (I hate yogart).. nuttin' processed, and yes, veggies too.....
Dadburnit, I'm a realist though.. I'm headed to the Tastee Freez to suck down a chili dog.
(A side note to John Cougar Mellencamp Winkleberry.. NEVER give up on the thrill of livin'.)
By Henry Cougar Gibson,
Love, Victurd
It be kinda like life in a way....
A little ditty 'bout Jack and Diane...
Two American kids growing up in the heart land...
Lived on Park Street...House, yard, kept neat..
Nicest folks you'd ever meet..
Jack did the 9 to 5....
Supper ready when he'd arrive...
Lil' Tina, Timmy, followed in their steps...
Ah, a perfect world, far, far from schleps..
Their lives plotted out, just as they should...
Two American kids doin' the best that they could...
Ain't that kinda how it goes?
I dug into (that's blogspeak for "stole from") an article by Matthew Hornsey - a Social Psychologist at the University of Queensland.. As a kid, Matthew was fascinated by the genie-in-the-bottle three wish thingy. Later as an adult, he did a study based on "How long do you want to live?; How smart would you want to be?; How much happiness, pleasure, freedom, health and self esteem would you ideally like to have?"
How perfect would you want your Jack and Diane world?
A 27 Nation sample size.. Modest, the results were.. "Live to be 90", eh, they coulda said a hunnerd and twelve.. IQ of 130, which is smart, but genius begins at 140... and when asked about how much health, happiness, pleasure, freedom and self-esteem (on a scale from none to 100%) the answers came in around 70-80%.
I no speaky the Queen's English, but this kinda tells me mebbe folks think too much of a good thing can be harmful.. or, borrowing from the article, like the Greek myths preached "too much ambition (Icarus), too much wealth (Midas), too much longevity (Tithonus) and too much self-love (Narcissus.)
So, logically, that would probably mean Jack drives a used Ford Escape (liability only), has a donut on the left rear, Diane smokes three packs a day, downs two shots of Hot Damn just before the kids get home, Tina is sexually active in the 10th grade, and 12 yr old Timmy has a pack of Marlboro Lights (stolen from mommy) in his trombone case.
I jest, but usually only on Thursdays.
Or, as the Queensland dude would say "More is not always better. Recent theorizing and data suggest that many psychological variables that seem objectively positive can have ironic negative effects on well-being when experienced in extremely high quantities."
Jacky sits back, collects his thoughts for the moment,
Scratches his head and does his best James Dean
"Well then, there Diane, we ought to run off to the city"
Diane says, "Baby you ain't missin' nothing,
But Jacky say
Oh yeah, life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone
Oh yeah say life goes on
Long after the thrill of livin' is gone.
Victor. Damnit. Somewhere along the way an avalanche happened and your stupid rabbit got buried... Oh contrare (and Tina says "whew, the rabbit didn't die").. I think I'm just trying to say "simple works", or, that maybe "simple is ok."
SURE, have goals, dream.. take care of your body.. love, love love one another.. have pleasure (but damnit Tina, not too much!).. love yourself, but know, "my way or the highway" usually leads to a lonely road. There are bumps in the road no matter what you drive, and please don't exceed 45mph with a damn donut on your car.
To reach Success Street, one must GPS across Hardknocks Lane, swerve around orange cones, dead ends, construction. Life's infrastructure, so to speak. And with that, one's ideas on success are certainly objective. Written to me, hitchhikers welcome - life has its own way of beating ones self up, don't you do it too.
Gonna let it rock,
Let it roll,
Let the Bible belt come and save my soul
Hold on to sixteen as long as you can
Changes come around real soon
Make us women and men.
I haven't had a beer in six days.. I've been eating smoothies made from real fruit, even with some yogart (I hate yogart).. nuttin' processed, and yes, veggies too.....
Dadburnit, I'm a realist though.. I'm headed to the Tastee Freez to suck down a chili dog.
(A side note to John Cougar Mellencamp Winkleberry.. NEVER give up on the thrill of livin'.)
By Henry Cougar Gibson,
Love, Victurd
Wednesday, December 19, 2018
Howya doin?
Much of our lives, we sleepwalk on down the road....
Buddy I usedta work with, I hated (LOVED) him... Every morning, walking in, before I could get "Good morning" to exit from my lips - he beat me to the punch with "Howya doin' Vic?"... I answered, thanked him, and by the time I could get "How are YOU doin?" out - he was half a hallway away.
Facebook one day probably won't even be in the annals of our local County Historical Society.. Victor, NO!? Reader, YES. You wanna impress me, what's your MySpace password?
But it (Facebook) is, our today. Many of us. Many not, many onceinagreat while, but many of us - pretty good frequency. In fact, I told one person - a coupled person, just yesterday "Being single, Facebook has been my sanity, my salvation... I've had too many jobs, went to school too many years, places, there's family, neighborhood kids, yada - it's kinda my quilt of life." It ain't Thanksgiving time, but I give thanks for that.
What's in your wallet (Facebook)?
You never asked, ha, but here's mine. You. Are. Stuck. Well, not really, but you can get outta this and be on your way, I'd certainly understand, and it ain't my intent to Rick Flair WOOOOOOOO and hold ya down on the ground.
Drum roll... My 2018 (and you are most welcome pics aren't included. You see, there's about 20 more pounds of me and I have a hard time fitting all that into one frame. As an aside, you SHOULD see my grandkids though. I am very unbiased, and they are the three most beautiful children on the planet!)
Being an early riser, most days I'm still late to beat one friend to FB. By the time I get the coffee made, eyelids propped open, he's already posted The Daily Bible Verse. I'm thankful for that.
When I mentioned drum roll - it reminded me of a recent vid/meme, where the guy blasting the huge base drum, lost his grip on the mallet he was whacking it with, it flew three rows backward and knocked the violinist chick off her stool. She gathered herself, walked out. I peed my pants. THANK YOU, 2018, for every fun, funny video, meme, saying, that caused me to laugh (enjoy the day), share (meme it forward, fun/laughter, spread fastern' herpes), and uh huh, sometimes even pee my pants a bit. It's ok, we old folks do that, it's just more fun when humor tends to be the impetus.
Friends from school. Thanks to K thru 12, a couple moves before landing in Liberty, and, my SIX YEAR BS path (NWMSU, Maple Woods, finally WJC), a lot of faces from yesteryear. Please know, you remind me of when I had a flat belly, of when I could run, of what we did before the dreaded word 'occupation' came into our lives... memories of some of the goofy things we did will THANKFULLY never to be captured by our Historical Archives, or, the camera/recorder that each and every one of us carry in our palm today. Poor kids today, damn the scrutiny.
Coworkers. I gotta admit, I don't miss work, but I miss my coworkers. FB keeps 'em here. The guy up there above (that always asked me "howya doin?")..well, for a long, long time there was this running thing... his female counterpart at work would go to the copy machine, he would grab her phone, hone in on FB, and post on her page, from her phone "Wow my vag really itches today, does anyone have any suggestions on good creams?"... To which, later in the day, he would run downstairs to the vending machines, she would grab his phone, hone in on FB, and post on his page "I can't believe all those years I wore tighty whiteys.. I've been wearing women's panties now for almost a year and I can't express enough how comfortable they are." (NOW are you getting the idea why the FB produced "Here's Vic's 2018" just don't cut it?)
Family. Mine, yours. There ain't nuttin' better. Sad pics of ones departed, happy pics of one that just started (in life). The turn back in time pics, yum. THAT'S how I remember you, me, him, her.
Christopher Columbus, Juan Ponce de Leon, and Horace Greeley. Here, there, everywhere. Like a "Ha ha Porch Pirate, when you open this, glitter will sprinkle EVERYWHERE"... much the same with friends. I love reading about SoCal, NoCal, the Pacific Northwest, everything inbetween to "Misery" (said lovingly, and I DO love it here), and all the buds down South (YES TX, we know you deserve BIG, special mention), East, Northeast, etc.) Distance causes worry during fires, hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, drought, outages, mass shootings, outbreaks, etc - but how wonderful it is (outside of those scary times) to learn of your life, your everyday path... (yes, even you crazy [sorry, kinda] Upper Peninsula folks. Good Lord I've never seen snow up to my navel.)
All that, and we still ain't even mentioned dogs, cats, horses. Sorry Kim, Randy, Marcie, Cheryl, Tiffany, Rhonda!
What's in your wallet? (ie, your FB quilt)...
2015, it was "Baseaball been vely vely good to me."
2016-17, yeah, wonderful opportunies to go do.
2018 - you brought me every single emotion known to man. Happiness, Sadness, happy tears, sad tears, LAUGHTER, laughing tears, peeing my pants a tad, "awwwww" thoughts when you showed me your new grandkid... holy shit I remember those pics from back in the day when I could STILL run all around the bases AND without having to worry about where the bathroom was in case I haveta pee....
I always had the hots for Shirley.. (sorry Laverne)... but oh how I loved Penny Marshall's movies. She was one talented lady - and of course, tears for her today. Of her legacy, she hoped to be remembered "I just hope you had a good time."... and "I want you to laugh and cry, that's what I do."
Thank you Penny. We did have a good time. We did laugh and cry. Thank you 2018. Thank you Facebook.
By Henry (Merry Christmas) Gibson
And, Happy New Year, love, Victurd
Buddy I usedta work with, I hated (LOVED) him... Every morning, walking in, before I could get "Good morning" to exit from my lips - he beat me to the punch with "Howya doin' Vic?"... I answered, thanked him, and by the time I could get "How are YOU doin?" out - he was half a hallway away.
Facebook one day probably won't even be in the annals of our local County Historical Society.. Victor, NO!? Reader, YES. You wanna impress me, what's your MySpace password?
But it (Facebook) is, our today. Many of us. Many not, many onceinagreat while, but many of us - pretty good frequency. In fact, I told one person - a coupled person, just yesterday "Being single, Facebook has been my sanity, my salvation... I've had too many jobs, went to school too many years, places, there's family, neighborhood kids, yada - it's kinda my quilt of life." It ain't Thanksgiving time, but I give thanks for that.
What's in your wallet (Facebook)?
You never asked, ha, but here's mine. You. Are. Stuck. Well, not really, but you can get outta this and be on your way, I'd certainly understand, and it ain't my intent to Rick Flair WOOOOOOOO and hold ya down on the ground.
Drum roll... My 2018 (and you are most welcome pics aren't included. You see, there's about 20 more pounds of me and I have a hard time fitting all that into one frame. As an aside, you SHOULD see my grandkids though. I am very unbiased, and they are the three most beautiful children on the planet!)
Being an early riser, most days I'm still late to beat one friend to FB. By the time I get the coffee made, eyelids propped open, he's already posted The Daily Bible Verse. I'm thankful for that.
When I mentioned drum roll - it reminded me of a recent vid/meme, where the guy blasting the huge base drum, lost his grip on the mallet he was whacking it with, it flew three rows backward and knocked the violinist chick off her stool. She gathered herself, walked out. I peed my pants. THANK YOU, 2018, for every fun, funny video, meme, saying, that caused me to laugh (enjoy the day), share (meme it forward, fun/laughter, spread fastern' herpes), and uh huh, sometimes even pee my pants a bit. It's ok, we old folks do that, it's just more fun when humor tends to be the impetus.
Friends from school. Thanks to K thru 12, a couple moves before landing in Liberty, and, my SIX YEAR BS path (NWMSU, Maple Woods, finally WJC), a lot of faces from yesteryear. Please know, you remind me of when I had a flat belly, of when I could run, of what we did before the dreaded word 'occupation' came into our lives... memories of some of the goofy things we did will THANKFULLY never to be captured by our Historical Archives, or, the camera/recorder that each and every one of us carry in our palm today. Poor kids today, damn the scrutiny.
Coworkers. I gotta admit, I don't miss work, but I miss my coworkers. FB keeps 'em here. The guy up there above (that always asked me "howya doin?")..well, for a long, long time there was this running thing... his female counterpart at work would go to the copy machine, he would grab her phone, hone in on FB, and post on her page, from her phone "Wow my vag really itches today, does anyone have any suggestions on good creams?"... To which, later in the day, he would run downstairs to the vending machines, she would grab his phone, hone in on FB, and post on his page "I can't believe all those years I wore tighty whiteys.. I've been wearing women's panties now for almost a year and I can't express enough how comfortable they are." (NOW are you getting the idea why the FB produced "Here's Vic's 2018" just don't cut it?)
Family. Mine, yours. There ain't nuttin' better. Sad pics of ones departed, happy pics of one that just started (in life). The turn back in time pics, yum. THAT'S how I remember you, me, him, her.
Christopher Columbus, Juan Ponce de Leon, and Horace Greeley. Here, there, everywhere. Like a "Ha ha Porch Pirate, when you open this, glitter will sprinkle EVERYWHERE"... much the same with friends. I love reading about SoCal, NoCal, the Pacific Northwest, everything inbetween to "Misery" (said lovingly, and I DO love it here), and all the buds down South (YES TX, we know you deserve BIG, special mention), East, Northeast, etc.) Distance causes worry during fires, hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, drought, outages, mass shootings, outbreaks, etc - but how wonderful it is (outside of those scary times) to learn of your life, your everyday path... (yes, even you crazy [sorry, kinda] Upper Peninsula folks. Good Lord I've never seen snow up to my navel.)
All that, and we still ain't even mentioned dogs, cats, horses. Sorry Kim, Randy, Marcie, Cheryl, Tiffany, Rhonda!
What's in your wallet? (ie, your FB quilt)...
2015, it was "Baseaball been vely vely good to me."
2016-17, yeah, wonderful opportunies to go do.
2018 - you brought me every single emotion known to man. Happiness, Sadness, happy tears, sad tears, LAUGHTER, laughing tears, peeing my pants a tad, "awwwww" thoughts when you showed me your new grandkid... holy shit I remember those pics from back in the day when I could STILL run all around the bases AND without having to worry about where the bathroom was in case I haveta pee....
I always had the hots for Shirley.. (sorry Laverne)... but oh how I loved Penny Marshall's movies. She was one talented lady - and of course, tears for her today. Of her legacy, she hoped to be remembered "I just hope you had a good time."... and "I want you to laugh and cry, that's what I do."
Thank you Penny. We did have a good time. We did laugh and cry. Thank you 2018. Thank you Facebook.
By Henry (Merry Christmas) Gibson
And, Happy New Year, love, Victurd
Tuesday, December 18, 2018
You can't always get what you want..........
My two front teeth, my two front teeth.
A Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred Shot Range Model Air Rifle...
I saw her today at the reception...
A beachfront condo........ for life....
A bucket fulla money to go, do, attain, them there things on the bucket list...
A new (phone, car, house, refrigerator freezer, furnace, laptop, job, boss, set of undies, bed, furniture, girlfriend, boyfriend, wardrobe, a metric scale - "how much do you weigh?" - "I dunno, but this one makes me happy", dog, cat, friend, lover, roommate, outlook, facelift, waistline, buttlift, tummylift, uplift).....
But, but, but....
We don't have a chimney? And... uh huh, there are times, ahm.. there are times, ahm, I've been bad.. ain't no way he can make it around the globe in 24 hours... how come Santa and mom have the same wrapping paper?... Why doesn't he get a stomachache from all the milk and cookies?.. How come you guys (mom/dad) don't sit on Santa's lap? How's he know what you want? "My little (sister/brother) can't talk, and does nuttin' but cry on Santa's lap - yet, Santa always gets him/her the toys he/she seemingly wants? SMH, whatsup with that?"...
Bottom-line, me thinks it's ok to be a tad selfish, inquisitive, AND wondrous at Christmas.
Much (can and often does) go wrong.. Your folks this year, my folks next year.. You'll be at our house for Christmas Eve, then your dad will pick you up and take you to his house for Santa to bring you presents at his house on Christmas.. Bad weather.. Flight delays.. Lost suitcases filled to the gills with presents that will now be handed out 12/27..
I think.. over the years.. I've wanted most all of the above.. and have had happened, most of the above...
I remember the best ones.. a ballglove.. a transistor radio.. a new bike... your favs?
It took me many a year to realize what I really want for Christmas each and every year, and as luck would have it, each and every year I've gotten them..... tears.
Happy tears.. Christmas is eternal.. There will always be new highchairs.. It's OK to cry to the excitement of the little ones, awakening you at 5am, then creating a six minute whirlwind of strewn wrapping paper, Legos to step on, parts to complete the big toy found hours later amongst the trash...the happy hours that follow, watching them playing, expounding their built up energy..
Sad tears.. Sorry Argentina, it's ok for us to cry because of the empty chairs, the loved ones now in Heaven above..
Life is ne'er perfect, but it can be perfect for us..
No, you can't always get what you want......
But if you try sometime, you find, you get what you need...
Peace on Earth, goodwill to men... and tears, maybe the best gift ever...
Love, Victurd
A Red Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred Shot Range Model Air Rifle...
I saw her today at the reception...
A beachfront condo........ for life....
A bucket fulla money to go, do, attain, them there things on the bucket list...
A new (phone, car, house, refrigerator freezer, furnace, laptop, job, boss, set of undies, bed, furniture, girlfriend, boyfriend, wardrobe, a metric scale - "how much do you weigh?" - "I dunno, but this one makes me happy", dog, cat, friend, lover, roommate, outlook, facelift, waistline, buttlift, tummylift, uplift).....
But, but, but....
We don't have a chimney? And... uh huh, there are times, ahm.. there are times, ahm, I've been bad.. ain't no way he can make it around the globe in 24 hours... how come Santa and mom have the same wrapping paper?... Why doesn't he get a stomachache from all the milk and cookies?.. How come you guys (mom/dad) don't sit on Santa's lap? How's he know what you want? "My little (sister/brother) can't talk, and does nuttin' but cry on Santa's lap - yet, Santa always gets him/her the toys he/she seemingly wants? SMH, whatsup with that?"...
Bottom-line, me thinks it's ok to be a tad selfish, inquisitive, AND wondrous at Christmas.
Much (can and often does) go wrong.. Your folks this year, my folks next year.. You'll be at our house for Christmas Eve, then your dad will pick you up and take you to his house for Santa to bring you presents at his house on Christmas.. Bad weather.. Flight delays.. Lost suitcases filled to the gills with presents that will now be handed out 12/27..
I think.. over the years.. I've wanted most all of the above.. and have had happened, most of the above...
I remember the best ones.. a ballglove.. a transistor radio.. a new bike... your favs?
It took me many a year to realize what I really want for Christmas each and every year, and as luck would have it, each and every year I've gotten them..... tears.
Happy tears.. Christmas is eternal.. There will always be new highchairs.. It's OK to cry to the excitement of the little ones, awakening you at 5am, then creating a six minute whirlwind of strewn wrapping paper, Legos to step on, parts to complete the big toy found hours later amongst the trash...the happy hours that follow, watching them playing, expounding their built up energy..
Sad tears.. Sorry Argentina, it's ok for us to cry because of the empty chairs, the loved ones now in Heaven above..
Life is ne'er perfect, but it can be perfect for us..
No, you can't always get what you want......
But if you try sometime, you find, you get what you need...
Peace on Earth, goodwill to men... and tears, maybe the best gift ever...
Love, Victurd
Saturday, December 15, 2018
Observation tower...
Love has been going through my brain.
Love is a wondrous word.
I sat thinking about the friends, loved ones I know who wing the word love with fairly good frequency, and I've noticed, they're happy. People in your life that do that, you notice the same?
My sister inlaw (actually, she's my ex sister inlaw, and we 'lovingly' refer to ourselves as outlaw-brother, outlaw-sister), well, she ends every written communication I've ever seen to me, to others, with "XOXO." Heart on the sleeve? Opening up one's self to vulnerability? I guess maybe, but who cares?
How good does something like that, or hearing the word "love" make you feel? It makes me feel really good. It ain't like you take a check to the bank, deposit it and ya gotta wait 24 hours for it to be any good. You hear 'love', it's from a person "you can take it to the bank", funds available as soon as the words are uttered.
Life = Jinga. We build towers. Not the part of Jinga where it's competition, and we start taking back what we've built - but that we've built a pretty impressive tower, we stand back, take a peek and spout "I love that." Or, I love you.
Men don't show emotion. Men don't cry. Men are taught "It's weak to do so." "Thou shall not feel." Boy kindergartners hold hands, put their arms around other boys and girls to show affection and express joy. By second grade, male indoctrination begins. Boys are sissies if they show fear, pain, or heaven forbid, the most taboo expression of all: crying.
I vote bull hockey to all of the above paragraph.
My father went to that "Old School." Oh, he was a loving man, and he never really feared using the word love with us (and did, a lot.) But, he hid emotions pretty well. "Men do that" it was assumed he learned. My father got Parkinson's. I hate, hate, hate, Parkinson's. But, Parkinson's allowed him to cry. To well up. To show the emotion that was always "in there", but was purposely held under the water.
For many, love is just a hard word to say - we recognize that, we understand it, and we know it's inside you because we can tell from the things you DO and SAY, you really mean love.
Love is a tough word. It ain't, but it is - if that makes sense.
I've worked part-time every winter for a guy for about 30 years or so. This guy is one of the most competitive people I've ever known. Losing really, really bothers him. A guy you want to go to battle with, but if the battle doesn't turn out to our liking - ya might wanna give him some time by himself before starting up any kind of conversation. I truly respect this man, and in return, I've always tried to do a good job for him. I texted him recently to relate I've decided to "hang it up.. the time has come." I thanked him for all the years, he thanked me back.. and then he sent a text "Love you buddy." Jinga. We built a tower together, stepped back, admired it, and uttered the word love. I was floored when I read it, but in a really good way.
Another buddy... our jinga tower has only been building for a few years, but it's a sturdy one. He is a lifelong purveyor of the biggest 'toys' known to man. A semi truck. A skid steer. An excavator. He digs basements. He literally, tears down buildings. He drives an F350 with a tank for diesel fuel in back. Criminy, I wouldn't put it past him to bend a crow bar in half. Tough. Ford tough, I guess you could say. After a few years of building that Jinga tower, I shook his hand to leave one day - he uttered "Love you brother."
The times, there'a changing. Men, me thinks, are changing.
We've all been witness to (on the observation tower so to speak), of, the tough times of late. This side, that side. This color, that color. Poor, middle, elite. This Country, that Country. This set of beliefs, that set of beliefs. We are so intent on the other guy pulling the wrong damn Jinga piece in hopes his tower collapses, so we'd "win."
Phhhht.. We need to build the Jinga tower with glue (love). Many do. Men are learning, gaining every day (and thank you ladies for modeling "it's ok to do so.") It's a good thing men are now realizing, saying, showing, acting.
XOXO,
Love, Victurd
Love is a wondrous word.
I sat thinking about the friends, loved ones I know who wing the word love with fairly good frequency, and I've noticed, they're happy. People in your life that do that, you notice the same?
My sister inlaw (actually, she's my ex sister inlaw, and we 'lovingly' refer to ourselves as outlaw-brother, outlaw-sister), well, she ends every written communication I've ever seen to me, to others, with "XOXO." Heart on the sleeve? Opening up one's self to vulnerability? I guess maybe, but who cares?
How good does something like that, or hearing the word "love" make you feel? It makes me feel really good. It ain't like you take a check to the bank, deposit it and ya gotta wait 24 hours for it to be any good. You hear 'love', it's from a person "you can take it to the bank", funds available as soon as the words are uttered.
Life = Jinga. We build towers. Not the part of Jinga where it's competition, and we start taking back what we've built - but that we've built a pretty impressive tower, we stand back, take a peek and spout "I love that." Or, I love you.
Men don't show emotion. Men don't cry. Men are taught "It's weak to do so." "Thou shall not feel." Boy kindergartners hold hands, put their arms around other boys and girls to show affection and express joy. By second grade, male indoctrination begins. Boys are sissies if they show fear, pain, or heaven forbid, the most taboo expression of all: crying.
I vote bull hockey to all of the above paragraph.
My father went to that "Old School." Oh, he was a loving man, and he never really feared using the word love with us (and did, a lot.) But, he hid emotions pretty well. "Men do that" it was assumed he learned. My father got Parkinson's. I hate, hate, hate, Parkinson's. But, Parkinson's allowed him to cry. To well up. To show the emotion that was always "in there", but was purposely held under the water.
For many, love is just a hard word to say - we recognize that, we understand it, and we know it's inside you because we can tell from the things you DO and SAY, you really mean love.
Love is a tough word. It ain't, but it is - if that makes sense.
I've worked part-time every winter for a guy for about 30 years or so. This guy is one of the most competitive people I've ever known. Losing really, really bothers him. A guy you want to go to battle with, but if the battle doesn't turn out to our liking - ya might wanna give him some time by himself before starting up any kind of conversation. I truly respect this man, and in return, I've always tried to do a good job for him. I texted him recently to relate I've decided to "hang it up.. the time has come." I thanked him for all the years, he thanked me back.. and then he sent a text "Love you buddy." Jinga. We built a tower together, stepped back, admired it, and uttered the word love. I was floored when I read it, but in a really good way.
Another buddy... our jinga tower has only been building for a few years, but it's a sturdy one. He is a lifelong purveyor of the biggest 'toys' known to man. A semi truck. A skid steer. An excavator. He digs basements. He literally, tears down buildings. He drives an F350 with a tank for diesel fuel in back. Criminy, I wouldn't put it past him to bend a crow bar in half. Tough. Ford tough, I guess you could say. After a few years of building that Jinga tower, I shook his hand to leave one day - he uttered "Love you brother."
The times, there'a changing. Men, me thinks, are changing.
We've all been witness to (on the observation tower so to speak), of, the tough times of late. This side, that side. This color, that color. Poor, middle, elite. This Country, that Country. This set of beliefs, that set of beliefs. We are so intent on the other guy pulling the wrong damn Jinga piece in hopes his tower collapses, so we'd "win."
Phhhht.. We need to build the Jinga tower with glue (love). Many do. Men are learning, gaining every day (and thank you ladies for modeling "it's ok to do so.") It's a good thing men are now realizing, saying, showing, acting.
XOXO,
Love, Victurd
Friday, December 14, 2018
Dear Commissioner Goodell... We hereby request you formally remove our team from the playoffs.. We can't do it (again.) Thanks, Kansas City Chief's (fans)
We get knocked down, but we get up again,
You are never gonna keep us down
We get knocked down, but we get up again,
You are never gonna keep us down
We get knocked down, but we get up again,
You are never gonna keep us down
We get knocked down, but we get up again,
You are never gonna keep us down
We drink a Whiskey drink, we drink a Vodka drink
We drink a Lager drink, we drink a Cider drink
We come to our senses, again, we can't do it. We can't go thru it again. We got knocked down (again, and again, and again) and we can't do it again. We respectfully decline consideration for this year's playoffs, Roger over and out. Thanks.
The New York Mets. 1962, 120 losses. 1963, 111 losses. 1964, 109 losses. 1965, 112 losses. 1966, April 15.. Opening day. Mets versus Atlanta Braves. Mets starting pitcher Jack Fisher wings the first pitch... Fans in right field immediately unfurl a humongous banner, "WAIT TILL NEXT YEAR!"
In the beginning: Christmas Day, 1971. Municipal Stadium, Kansas City, MO. The LAST game ever in Municipal. 1972 would bring KC a new airport, a new baseball stadium, and a new football stadium (along with 47 consecutive years of No Super Bowl for the Chiefs)... The. NFL's. Longest. Game. Ever.
Early, Jan Stenerud missed a field goal attempt. With 1:25 to play in the 4th quarter, Miami scored to knot the score at 24-24. Ed Podolak returned the kickoff, sidestepping Garo Yepremian, going 78 yards before he was forced out of bounds. Three runs later, Stenerud trotted on the field with 35 seconds remaining to kick a 31 yarder.
Miami linebacker Nick Buoniconti later stated "I was planning what I was going to do with my off-season. The chances were one in a million he would miss that kick." Miss the kick he did. "My history and my legacy were defined by that one kick," he would say. The jokes that followed. "Stenerud, with noose around neck, on a stool, attempted to kick it out from under him. He missed."
Overtime. On, and on, and on. "Everyone I knew in Miami told me they had to shutoff their ovens to avoid ruining their Christmas turkey," Buoniconti (who had 20 tackles) would say..
46,000 (filled to the gills) were in attendance, while fans at home were forced to listen to the game on radio. NFL blackout rules at the time meant the local NBC affiliate showed reruns of "Hee Haw" instead of the first home playoff game in Chiefs history.
First overtime period. Dolphins blocked another Stenerud try. Uh huh, you guessed it, Buoniconti. In the 2nd overtime, after 80 minutes, 40 seconds of play, Yepremian, the former necktie salesman from Cyprus, came onto the field, kicked a 37 yarder for the 27-24 win. Forty years after the Depression, who knew it would lead to another 40+ years of depression for Kansas City Chief's fans.
Mebbe we shoulda just watched Hee Haw. "Where oh where, are you tonight, why did you leave me here all alone.. I searched the football world over and I thought I found true love, you missed another and phhhht you were gone."
Worst playoff losses ever? Hmmm.. '95 and '97, home field advantage the whole way.. there was "The player who shall not be named" who missed three field goals in '95. 1990 Dave Szott offsides, Nick The Kick missing a makeable field goal.... '93 in Buffalo when Joe got the concussion... the Elvis Grrrrbac game, the no punt game.. That recent spectacle in Indy when we were up by 112 points at halftime.
Gol' dang Dawson, Jacky Lee, Livingston, Tony Adams, Steve Fuller, Bill Kenney, Todd Blackledge, Matt Stevens (who?), Frank Seurer (who?), Doug Hudson (huh?), Steve DeBerg, Ron Jaworski, Steve Pelluer, Mark Vlasic, Dave Krieg, Joe Montana, Steve Bono, Rich Gannon, Elvis Grrrrrrbac, Warren Moon, Trent Green, Damon Huard, Brodie Croyle, Tyler Thigpen, Matt Cassel, Tyler Palko, Kyle Orton, Brady Quinn, Alex Smith, Chase Daniel, Nick Foles... STOP! PLEASE!
HOLY SHIRT! WE CAN'T TAKE IT ANY LONGER MR. GODELL!
Just ask my Facebook buddies: "I hate football."... "They (KC) have no secondary at all, Rivers picked them apart." "Our D can't stop them." "Pitiful." "Our D back and linebackers could barely cover me" said one 62 year old, 'fairly healthy' buddy. "Fire the coordinator." "I'm done." "When does Spring Training start?"
THEN AGAIN.. I remember "65 toss power trap." HA HA HA.. "65 toss power trap baby!"... "Matriculate the ball down the field!"...
FINALLY beating the Yankees.. Cookie and Freddie celebrating after by jumping into the Fountains, and thanks to some quick acting employee, he shut off the electricity thereby avoiding 'a burnt Cookie."..
Willie Wilson's "WE SHOCKED THE WORLD!"... The parade downtown after in 1985. It was me, a cop to the right of me, my buddy to the left, another buddy, and some dude we didn't know who unzipped, peed right there infronta God, everybody and the cop.. The three of us turned in disbelief to the cop.. without saying anything, he offered "Captain said anything short of murder, let it go."
Giving up 7 times during the Wild Card Game in 2014, and the elation thereafter. (A buddy of mine hurt his leg pretty badly after we scored the winning run as he jumped to bump another buddy.)
2015 Royals. Need anything more be said about that?
I read obituaries. I know, silly, maybe morbid. I don't wanna some day be embarrassed in asking "So how's ole so-and-so?" only to learn later they'd expired. I cannot tell you the number of times I've read "die-hard.. lifelong devoted.. Super fan of... Chiefs, Royals, KU, MU," yada...
For them, we must continue.
And wait... MAHOMES! Yes, MAHOMES!
Upon further review, nevermind Mr. Godell. We'll take our chances, and yeah, perhaps our lumps. Ain't that what being a fan(atic) is all about?
By Henry (not Kirk or Bob) Gibson
Love, Victurd
You are never gonna keep us down
We get knocked down, but we get up again,
You are never gonna keep us down
We get knocked down, but we get up again,
You are never gonna keep us down
We get knocked down, but we get up again,
You are never gonna keep us down
We drink a Whiskey drink, we drink a Vodka drink
We drink a Lager drink, we drink a Cider drink
We come to our senses, again, we can't do it. We can't go thru it again. We got knocked down (again, and again, and again) and we can't do it again. We respectfully decline consideration for this year's playoffs, Roger over and out. Thanks.
The New York Mets. 1962, 120 losses. 1963, 111 losses. 1964, 109 losses. 1965, 112 losses. 1966, April 15.. Opening day. Mets versus Atlanta Braves. Mets starting pitcher Jack Fisher wings the first pitch... Fans in right field immediately unfurl a humongous banner, "WAIT TILL NEXT YEAR!"
In the beginning: Christmas Day, 1971. Municipal Stadium, Kansas City, MO. The LAST game ever in Municipal. 1972 would bring KC a new airport, a new baseball stadium, and a new football stadium (along with 47 consecutive years of No Super Bowl for the Chiefs)... The. NFL's. Longest. Game. Ever.
Early, Jan Stenerud missed a field goal attempt. With 1:25 to play in the 4th quarter, Miami scored to knot the score at 24-24. Ed Podolak returned the kickoff, sidestepping Garo Yepremian, going 78 yards before he was forced out of bounds. Three runs later, Stenerud trotted on the field with 35 seconds remaining to kick a 31 yarder.
Miami linebacker Nick Buoniconti later stated "I was planning what I was going to do with my off-season. The chances were one in a million he would miss that kick." Miss the kick he did. "My history and my legacy were defined by that one kick," he would say. The jokes that followed. "Stenerud, with noose around neck, on a stool, attempted to kick it out from under him. He missed."
Overtime. On, and on, and on. "Everyone I knew in Miami told me they had to shutoff their ovens to avoid ruining their Christmas turkey," Buoniconti (who had 20 tackles) would say..
46,000 (filled to the gills) were in attendance, while fans at home were forced to listen to the game on radio. NFL blackout rules at the time meant the local NBC affiliate showed reruns of "Hee Haw" instead of the first home playoff game in Chiefs history.
First overtime period. Dolphins blocked another Stenerud try. Uh huh, you guessed it, Buoniconti. In the 2nd overtime, after 80 minutes, 40 seconds of play, Yepremian, the former necktie salesman from Cyprus, came onto the field, kicked a 37 yarder for the 27-24 win. Forty years after the Depression, who knew it would lead to another 40+ years of depression for Kansas City Chief's fans.
Mebbe we shoulda just watched Hee Haw. "Where oh where, are you tonight, why did you leave me here all alone.. I searched the football world over and I thought I found true love, you missed another and phhhht you were gone."
Worst playoff losses ever? Hmmm.. '95 and '97, home field advantage the whole way.. there was "The player who shall not be named" who missed three field goals in '95. 1990 Dave Szott offsides, Nick The Kick missing a makeable field goal.... '93 in Buffalo when Joe got the concussion... the Elvis Grrrrbac game, the no punt game.. That recent spectacle in Indy when we were up by 112 points at halftime.
Gol' dang Dawson, Jacky Lee, Livingston, Tony Adams, Steve Fuller, Bill Kenney, Todd Blackledge, Matt Stevens (who?), Frank Seurer (who?), Doug Hudson (huh?), Steve DeBerg, Ron Jaworski, Steve Pelluer, Mark Vlasic, Dave Krieg, Joe Montana, Steve Bono, Rich Gannon, Elvis Grrrrrrbac, Warren Moon, Trent Green, Damon Huard, Brodie Croyle, Tyler Thigpen, Matt Cassel, Tyler Palko, Kyle Orton, Brady Quinn, Alex Smith, Chase Daniel, Nick Foles... STOP! PLEASE!
HOLY SHIRT! WE CAN'T TAKE IT ANY LONGER MR. GODELL!
Just ask my Facebook buddies: "I hate football."... "They (KC) have no secondary at all, Rivers picked them apart." "Our D can't stop them." "Pitiful." "Our D back and linebackers could barely cover me" said one 62 year old, 'fairly healthy' buddy. "Fire the coordinator." "I'm done." "When does Spring Training start?"
THEN AGAIN.. I remember "65 toss power trap." HA HA HA.. "65 toss power trap baby!"... "Matriculate the ball down the field!"...
FINALLY beating the Yankees.. Cookie and Freddie celebrating after by jumping into the Fountains, and thanks to some quick acting employee, he shut off the electricity thereby avoiding 'a burnt Cookie."..
Willie Wilson's "WE SHOCKED THE WORLD!"... The parade downtown after in 1985. It was me, a cop to the right of me, my buddy to the left, another buddy, and some dude we didn't know who unzipped, peed right there infronta God, everybody and the cop.. The three of us turned in disbelief to the cop.. without saying anything, he offered "Captain said anything short of murder, let it go."
Giving up 7 times during the Wild Card Game in 2014, and the elation thereafter. (A buddy of mine hurt his leg pretty badly after we scored the winning run as he jumped to bump another buddy.)
2015 Royals. Need anything more be said about that?
I read obituaries. I know, silly, maybe morbid. I don't wanna some day be embarrassed in asking "So how's ole so-and-so?" only to learn later they'd expired. I cannot tell you the number of times I've read "die-hard.. lifelong devoted.. Super fan of... Chiefs, Royals, KU, MU," yada...
For them, we must continue.
And wait... MAHOMES! Yes, MAHOMES!
Upon further review, nevermind Mr. Godell. We'll take our chances, and yeah, perhaps our lumps. Ain't that what being a fan(atic) is all about?
By Henry (not Kirk or Bob) Gibson
Love, Victurd
Thursday, December 13, 2018
Watch him folks 'cause he's a thoroughly dangerous man…
Much ado about watch.
Chiefs/Chargers tonight.. Gonna watch? Where ya gonna watch? Watcha gonna wear? No, that ain't right... What does one do in San Diego when their phone dies? I dunno, cause there ain't no chargers there any more.
We spend a vast majority of our lives "people watching".... There was a long stream of "The People of WalMart" watch.. well, that's been replaced by all the doorbell cameras and the plethora of Porch Pirates we now watch.
Couple years ago folks across the land went bat-crazy, bought these cheap ole glasses, sat outside in lawnchairs, just so they could watch dark for a couple-three minutes.
"Don't watch the clock; do what it does. Keep going." Sam Levenson
Syphilis and Gonorrhea. WHAT VICTOR? WATCH IT! No, no, wait...gimme a chance.. you see, sometimes weird things/events are caught on video.. Fred watches, posts it, Juanita sees it, shares it, Mark gets it, shares it, Susie sees it, same thing.. and the video is shared (watched) again, and again, and s'more. Viral. Today, viral is all about watch. "Yesterday" it meant you were sick, stay home, don't share. It'll spread like, well, kinda like syphilis and gonorrhea. The funny dog video had 12,764,308 views (# of times WATCHED)...
Barack did his 8 years, now we're on Donald's watch.
"I don't make jokes. I just watch the government and report the facts." Will Rogers
Ohhhhh, ya better watch out, ya better not cry.. Uh huh, it's that timea year too. Ya been naughty or nice? Santa's watching!
The hypnotist accidentally dropped his watch, said that S-word, and well, we all know what happened next.
"If you're not in the parade, you watch the parade. That's life." Mike Ditka
"This ain't fun, but I'll get it done - you watch me." Jackie Robinson
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is guarded (watched) 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, in any/all weather by Tomb Guard sentinels. Sentinels, all volunteers, are considered to be the best of the elite 3rd US Infantry Regiment (The Old Guard) headquartered at Fort Myer, Virginia. That's watching during an average of 15 inches of snow per year, 30" to 40" of rain (some freezing).. and temps ranging from 15 below to 106. Bless their watch.
"Watch this Mom" - heard every single day all across the land, again and again.
Now watch me whip (whip it) Watch me nae nae (Okay!) Now watch me whip whip, Watch me nae nae (Can you do it?)
Any suggestions on what to watch on Netflix? Love to binge watch.
"Inspiration comes from not only within ourselves, but also from watching life around us." Anthony T. Hincks
"Literally, the vast majority of our life is spent watching." Victurd
I love a parade. I love a flashmob. I love grandkid pics. I love animal videos. I love prank videos. I love wonderful nature pics, videos. I love watching a plane takeoff. I love looking out the window from a plane. Window seat may be boring, old hat to some - nomme.
I LOVE smiles. They spread. OK Victor, we've already addressed 'spreading'. Fun to watch: ballgames, movies, documentaries, sitcoms. People, their reactions to life. Struggle, but when only followed by success.
I literally hated doing gymnastics as a kid. One day, I became an Elementary PE teacher. Teaching gymnastics was one of the most rewarding things I've ever done. You can watch progress. Doesn't have to be the kid that can do the roundoff, backspring, backspring (but that too is special to watch). Might be the one that FINALLY climbed the rope to the top and rang the bell. Made it across the beam all the way. Finally, got all the body parts to behave in order to correctly do a backroll. Measurable, accompanied by smile, self confidence, proudness.
Rivers, streams, oceans, storms, snow, rain, wind, trees, squirrels scattering about, dog chasing his tail, your mate's eyeballs, a buddy ya ain't seen in awhile at the Piggly Wiggly...the sign that show gas prices went down 15 cents overnight.
Jugglers, magicians, acrobats. Bands from the best musical era ever making their "This time, it really, really is it, our last ever ever tour." Floyd Mayweather's seven last ever fights. I still ain't got it figured out. Usedta be, the world stopped to watch a Heavyweight title bout. Nowadays, no one watches boxing, and they makeya pay to do so.
I ain't watched MTV since I had a 32" waistline, but I understand there ain't no videos to watch any more. Huh?
Maxwell Smart "was country when country wasn't cool", ie, he spoke into his watch hella long before Apple ever even thought about it.
Retirement, I'm finding, is so very wonderful in affording 'watch.' The numbers on my remote are damn near warn off. I don't have to be back at the office in 30 minutes at lunch time, so I take an hour to simply watch those that do. Hurry, unless it's in relation to getting to the bathroom, ain't in the retiree's modus operandi. I hardly ever getta watch the clock hit 11, or midnight. That's ok. Been there, watched that aplenty. No need to watch Times Square on New Years Eve, we old farts know all about balls dropping. Sorry. Kinda.
All along the watchtower. Sing it Jimi.
What's in your watch wallet today? May it be marvelous. Me? I'm headed to watch my eyelids. Back in 30. Or mebbe an hour. Retirement is vely nice. Ain't no one watching over me.
By Henry watch me whip, watch me nae nae Gibson
Love, Victurd .
Chiefs/Chargers tonight.. Gonna watch? Where ya gonna watch? Watcha gonna wear? No, that ain't right... What does one do in San Diego when their phone dies? I dunno, cause there ain't no chargers there any more.
We spend a vast majority of our lives "people watching".... There was a long stream of "The People of WalMart" watch.. well, that's been replaced by all the doorbell cameras and the plethora of Porch Pirates we now watch.
Couple years ago folks across the land went bat-crazy, bought these cheap ole glasses, sat outside in lawnchairs, just so they could watch dark for a couple-three minutes.
"Don't watch the clock; do what it does. Keep going." Sam Levenson
Syphilis and Gonorrhea. WHAT VICTOR? WATCH IT! No, no, wait...gimme a chance.. you see, sometimes weird things/events are caught on video.. Fred watches, posts it, Juanita sees it, shares it, Mark gets it, shares it, Susie sees it, same thing.. and the video is shared (watched) again, and again, and s'more. Viral. Today, viral is all about watch. "Yesterday" it meant you were sick, stay home, don't share. It'll spread like, well, kinda like syphilis and gonorrhea. The funny dog video had 12,764,308 views (# of times WATCHED)...
Barack did his 8 years, now we're on Donald's watch.
"I don't make jokes. I just watch the government and report the facts." Will Rogers
Ohhhhh, ya better watch out, ya better not cry.. Uh huh, it's that timea year too. Ya been naughty or nice? Santa's watching!
The hypnotist accidentally dropped his watch, said that S-word, and well, we all know what happened next.
"If you're not in the parade, you watch the parade. That's life." Mike Ditka
"This ain't fun, but I'll get it done - you watch me." Jackie Robinson
The Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is guarded (watched) 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, in any/all weather by Tomb Guard sentinels. Sentinels, all volunteers, are considered to be the best of the elite 3rd US Infantry Regiment (The Old Guard) headquartered at Fort Myer, Virginia. That's watching during an average of 15 inches of snow per year, 30" to 40" of rain (some freezing).. and temps ranging from 15 below to 106. Bless their watch.
"Watch this Mom" - heard every single day all across the land, again and again.
Now watch me whip (whip it) Watch me nae nae (Okay!) Now watch me whip whip, Watch me nae nae (Can you do it?)
Any suggestions on what to watch on Netflix? Love to binge watch.
"Inspiration comes from not only within ourselves, but also from watching life around us." Anthony T. Hincks
"Literally, the vast majority of our life is spent watching." Victurd
I love a parade. I love a flashmob. I love grandkid pics. I love animal videos. I love prank videos. I love wonderful nature pics, videos. I love watching a plane takeoff. I love looking out the window from a plane. Window seat may be boring, old hat to some - nomme.
I LOVE smiles. They spread. OK Victor, we've already addressed 'spreading'. Fun to watch: ballgames, movies, documentaries, sitcoms. People, their reactions to life. Struggle, but when only followed by success.
I literally hated doing gymnastics as a kid. One day, I became an Elementary PE teacher. Teaching gymnastics was one of the most rewarding things I've ever done. You can watch progress. Doesn't have to be the kid that can do the roundoff, backspring, backspring (but that too is special to watch). Might be the one that FINALLY climbed the rope to the top and rang the bell. Made it across the beam all the way. Finally, got all the body parts to behave in order to correctly do a backroll. Measurable, accompanied by smile, self confidence, proudness.
Rivers, streams, oceans, storms, snow, rain, wind, trees, squirrels scattering about, dog chasing his tail, your mate's eyeballs, a buddy ya ain't seen in awhile at the Piggly Wiggly...the sign that show gas prices went down 15 cents overnight.
Jugglers, magicians, acrobats. Bands from the best musical era ever making their "This time, it really, really is it, our last ever ever tour." Floyd Mayweather's seven last ever fights. I still ain't got it figured out. Usedta be, the world stopped to watch a Heavyweight title bout. Nowadays, no one watches boxing, and they makeya pay to do so.
I ain't watched MTV since I had a 32" waistline, but I understand there ain't no videos to watch any more. Huh?
Maxwell Smart "was country when country wasn't cool", ie, he spoke into his watch hella long before Apple ever even thought about it.
Retirement, I'm finding, is so very wonderful in affording 'watch.' The numbers on my remote are damn near warn off. I don't have to be back at the office in 30 minutes at lunch time, so I take an hour to simply watch those that do. Hurry, unless it's in relation to getting to the bathroom, ain't in the retiree's modus operandi. I hardly ever getta watch the clock hit 11, or midnight. That's ok. Been there, watched that aplenty. No need to watch Times Square on New Years Eve, we old farts know all about balls dropping. Sorry. Kinda.
All along the watchtower. Sing it Jimi.
What's in your watch wallet today? May it be marvelous. Me? I'm headed to watch my eyelids. Back in 30. Or mebbe an hour. Retirement is vely nice. Ain't no one watching over me.
By Henry watch me whip, watch me nae nae Gibson
Love, Victurd .
Wednesday, December 12, 2018
Oh job, won'tcha buy me, a Mercedes Benz...
It's just a tad frustrating, the world at our fingertips (Google), yet, I can't find much research on what us kids (Boomers) wanted to be when we grow up, yet, I can get 18 pages of instructions on how to replace the alternator on my 2008 Grand Prix, or, find a kajillion and six recipes for crockpot beef stew.
I found "most people in this era wanted to be a laywer, a doctor, or work for the government. Usually women didn't work if they could affort it, instead they were housewives." Ethel was always home when Fred got off work, Lucy for Ricky, Jeannie for Major Healy.
You don't hear, nowadays, women, gals, kiddos, desiring to be a housewife. Just shoot me, you asked for it, you got it, Toyota.
I, for a long time, dreamed of being a Major League Baseball Player. Then, whatthehell is this curveball thing they're throwing? Hmmm, on second thought.
What did you wanna be, and wereya?
I have friends who are lawyers, doctors, work for the government. I've got friends who fly planes, one who fed people on planes, and me, I loaded suitcases, mail, freight and passengers on planes. Plane ole work.
Factory workers, accountants, clerical, teachers, coaches, nursing home work, retail, wholesale, sales - inside/outside, food industry, yada. Victor, this is boring. I know. Just keeping it real.
Actually, when I grow up, I want to... One, be upright. Two, be sedentary. Three, solve Sudoku puzzles for so long it makes me so tired I haveta take a nap. But Victor, those things don't help people? Oh contrare Maxwell House breath, to the Victor go the spoils.
We've all seen some of the ideas kids nowadays have, so, I will bore you with repeating some of them. I guess that's akin to "I'm on vacation, here's a Pete/RePete blog, sorry, we're stuck with it today.":
Along with police officer, fire fighter, dancer, astronaut, yada:
I want to get a girlfriend, kiss her, rule the world.
When I grow up I want to be a dog.
I want to be a vegetarian and help fix animals.
I don't want to grow up. (Maybe THE BEST all time answer.)
"I was in my daughter's kindergarten class and this subject came up... nurse.. pop star.. and so forth.. then my daughter stood up and said "I want to be a mermaid.".. I was devastated.. until the girl next to her stood up and said "I want to be a fish."
While I was waiting for a plane at an airport, I heard a young boy telling his grandfather he wanted to be a BIG TREE.
I asked my 3 kids what they wanted to do when they grew up. 10-yr old said "I want to be a teacher." 8-yr old "I want to be a writer." 6-yr old said "I want to run the machine that cuts the heads off the chickens." Alll-righty then.
I want to be a mailbox.
I want to live in mom's basement and play Fortnite. (This one I made up, but sadly, me thinks it rings true.)
ALL of the above is stolen. I really don't have a way outta this. Did you get the job you dreamed about when you grew up?
OK, I thought of a way out. My father inlaw (may he rest in peace) - I loved. He would say of me "That Victor, he's a really nice man. He's just a little occupationally challenged." Huh? Why'd he say that?
Well.. because, I did these, so I musta grown up dreaming about doing them: umpired, reffed, lined ballfields, cut grass, cut holes on greens at a golf course, taught, coached, loaded airplanes, ticketed passengers, computed weight/balance for airplanes to arrive upon the mean aeronautical cord (whateverinthehell that is) to give to the Captain for settings on takeoff, sold air freight, sold hotel rooms, owned an air cargo delivery business, dealt craps, forklift/inventory operator in a warehouse, loaded/unloaded trucks, waited tables, hauled sod (yuck), managed a Sonic, painted outbuildings in the future path of Hwy 435 to up owner's property values, laid brick, Sports Information Director for a college conference, bowling alley, Home Depot, logistics-18 years, you name it, I've done too much of it. And I'm sure I missed few.
I always admired Cowboy Bob (a kid's radio show host from back in the day).. yeah, I coulda done that.. well, woulda done it, dunno if I coulda.. but I'll never forget his sign off one day when he forgot to turn off the mike....."THERE, that oughta please the little bastards."
Happy When I Grow Up I Wanna Be Day,
By Henry Gibson (Poet/writer)...and contributions by Art Stinkletter
Love, Victurd, the occupationally challenged one
I found "most people in this era wanted to be a laywer, a doctor, or work for the government. Usually women didn't work if they could affort it, instead they were housewives." Ethel was always home when Fred got off work, Lucy for Ricky, Jeannie for Major Healy.
You don't hear, nowadays, women, gals, kiddos, desiring to be a housewife. Just shoot me, you asked for it, you got it, Toyota.
I, for a long time, dreamed of being a Major League Baseball Player. Then, whatthehell is this curveball thing they're throwing? Hmmm, on second thought.
What did you wanna be, and wereya?
I have friends who are lawyers, doctors, work for the government. I've got friends who fly planes, one who fed people on planes, and me, I loaded suitcases, mail, freight and passengers on planes. Plane ole work.
Factory workers, accountants, clerical, teachers, coaches, nursing home work, retail, wholesale, sales - inside/outside, food industry, yada. Victor, this is boring. I know. Just keeping it real.
Actually, when I grow up, I want to... One, be upright. Two, be sedentary. Three, solve Sudoku puzzles for so long it makes me so tired I haveta take a nap. But Victor, those things don't help people? Oh contrare Maxwell House breath, to the Victor go the spoils.
We've all seen some of the ideas kids nowadays have, so, I will bore you with repeating some of them. I guess that's akin to "I'm on vacation, here's a Pete/RePete blog, sorry, we're stuck with it today.":
Along with police officer, fire fighter, dancer, astronaut, yada:
I want to get a girlfriend, kiss her, rule the world.
When I grow up I want to be a dog.
I want to be a vegetarian and help fix animals.
I don't want to grow up. (Maybe THE BEST all time answer.)
"I was in my daughter's kindergarten class and this subject came up... nurse.. pop star.. and so forth.. then my daughter stood up and said "I want to be a mermaid.".. I was devastated.. until the girl next to her stood up and said "I want to be a fish."
While I was waiting for a plane at an airport, I heard a young boy telling his grandfather he wanted to be a BIG TREE.
I asked my 3 kids what they wanted to do when they grew up. 10-yr old said "I want to be a teacher." 8-yr old "I want to be a writer." 6-yr old said "I want to run the machine that cuts the heads off the chickens." Alll-righty then.
I want to be a mailbox.
I want to live in mom's basement and play Fortnite. (This one I made up, but sadly, me thinks it rings true.)
ALL of the above is stolen. I really don't have a way outta this. Did you get the job you dreamed about when you grew up?
OK, I thought of a way out. My father inlaw (may he rest in peace) - I loved. He would say of me "That Victor, he's a really nice man. He's just a little occupationally challenged." Huh? Why'd he say that?
Well.. because, I did these, so I musta grown up dreaming about doing them: umpired, reffed, lined ballfields, cut grass, cut holes on greens at a golf course, taught, coached, loaded airplanes, ticketed passengers, computed weight/balance for airplanes to arrive upon the mean aeronautical cord (whateverinthehell that is) to give to the Captain for settings on takeoff, sold air freight, sold hotel rooms, owned an air cargo delivery business, dealt craps, forklift/inventory operator in a warehouse, loaded/unloaded trucks, waited tables, hauled sod (yuck), managed a Sonic, painted outbuildings in the future path of Hwy 435 to up owner's property values, laid brick, Sports Information Director for a college conference, bowling alley, Home Depot, logistics-18 years, you name it, I've done too much of it. And I'm sure I missed few.
I always admired Cowboy Bob (a kid's radio show host from back in the day).. yeah, I coulda done that.. well, woulda done it, dunno if I coulda.. but I'll never forget his sign off one day when he forgot to turn off the mike....."THERE, that oughta please the little bastards."
Happy When I Grow Up I Wanna Be Day,
By Henry Gibson (Poet/writer)...and contributions by Art Stinkletter
Love, Victurd, the occupationally challenged one
Tuesday, December 11, 2018
Act your age.........
Awhile back I was at a kid's birthday party... two brothers, ages mebbe 6 and 8, (not the birthday boys) waged battle with balloons, simultaneously bonking one another, quite loudly, for quite awhile, complete with races around the coffee table, kitchen, dining room table, with real giggles, pink cheeks and sweat. Like the grumpy bastard on an airplane who hands out mean looks because he was certainly/probably never a kid himself - well, there were one or two of those in the room. After the 80th bonk (mighta been the 81st, I stopped counting) I hollered out (with SE'in grin) "QUIT ACTING YOUR AGE!!!!"
Ohhhhhh age.
"Wrinkles should merely indicate where the smiles have been." Mark Twain.
Daily, I down way too much coffee first thing... I watch the local news... drool a bit at how pretty Donna Pitman is.. and think whatinthehell to write about today. Trust me, it beats the hell outta getting up, wondering, whatinthehell am I gonna wear to work today, whatinthehell the roads are like, wheninthehell is payday I needs me some gas in the car...yada.
I thought about age. I like my age, and I think suffice to say most people in their 60's, 70's and beyond, feel similarly. I wondered aloud "when I was 9, did I like my age?" Of course I did, but I appreciate 9 more now that I'm 60-something.
I thought about High School... and how there was only one speed - all out fun. Hindsight, it was "Facebookish like".. She said what? He did what? Did you see that? Everyone's going Saturday night, you? Arguments. Jokes. Where silly is routine. Flirtation. One-upmanship. Flashmobs of the Stones, Diana Ross, Jimi, The Temps, Zeppelin breaking out in basements.. Ahhhhhh, fun. But did I/we know at 16, or 18, how much we enjoyed that age?
"Youth can not know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young." J.K. Rowling
Trust me JK, we ain't forgot.
Newlywed age.. Good God Gerty, will there be this much sex my entire life? I'm tired but I'm loving it! (The answer is NO, so tape it, video it, so you can remember back to skinny, and to when you could move! Oh baby did you move!) JK, kinda sorta.. I think, er, I hope, we all appreciated, enjoyed that - but ain't sure it was the age itself we were in love with. Being 60-something, it's easy to be in love with 20/30-something. Life, pre Geritol. Yum.
40-something lines up to bring a proudness.. to me anyways. Instead of another attempt to burst the waterbed - one rolls over to his/her side in the # bed.. hugs.. spoons.. loves, but rests.. By 40-something, we've all been thru a few things.. A greater appreciation for loved ones, good friends, the paths of people..our own path.. But, did we really know how enjoyable 40-something was at the time?
"We don't understand life any better at forty than at twenty, but we know it and admit it." Jules Renard
By age 50, we have all that crap (tables, chairs, beds, lava lamps, pictures, posters, yada) that we thought looked so cool 20, 30 years ago - well, now it's in our basement.. or garage so when we keel it's our kid's problem, not ours!.. Should the need arise (say the grocery cart starts rolling towards someone's Caddy) we can still run - but only for short distances. We have one eye on yesteryear, and the other firmly peeking at wheninthehell do I get outta Dodge (work}? The really lucky ones have empty nest quietness, yet, lay in hopes of one day (again) having a 6 and an 8 year old running around the house bonking each other with balloons.
50, we've got a little bit more money. So we go, do. Honey, we're too old for sex, wanna go to Jamaica? We don't know how to behave at 50-something. We all think we've still got that little kid inside still, but we're completely lost in thinking about what it's gonna be like to be 60 or 70-something. 50-something really isn't appreciated enough, until we're 60-something - or so I've found.
"Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana." Groucho Marx
About 60-something.. quoting that nerdy little Austin Powers "YEAHHH BABY!".. I friggin love 60-something. I have a greater appreciation for someone that's 3. I/we LOVE seeing them go thru the stage where we've see our own selves, and our own children go thru. Even better, when they get a bigass toy for Christmas, we get to watch mom/dad frustratingly assemble it. We hear our kids parent, and it's an echo of our own damnself, only with a wonderful smirk attached. (I'm reminded of the lady I followed for about five aisles in WallyWorld.. one tot outta the cart, grabbing everything in sight, one tot inside the cart, throwing everything that was put in the cart, back out onto the floor. With growing frustration, she chastised each, several times. "I'm not gonna tell you again" was in there several times. Finally somewhere around the 5th aisle she let out "God.. I sound just like my Mother." We get it honey, we get it.
You can't take 9, 17, 26, 38, 43, 56 from us. We've been there, done that. We might notta appreciated it then, but we sureashell do now.
At 60-something, we look in the mirror, and we don't care. We think back about how much we worried about our job, and now we don't care. We know we're slowing up a bit, but our hearts and eyeballs "Go like 60", tyvm Bonita Allen. It is damn hard to wipe ones smile off at age 60-something. We've seen it, done it, waded thru that crap - nuh uh, you ain't gonna get me to frown. I love life. I love 60-something. I've loved EVERY age, but this is the first time "I get it." (And hell to the yes the kid still lives inside!)
Mozart was composing at age 5. Shirly Temple was a movie star at age 6. Pele won the World Cup at age 17. Elvis was a superstar at age 19. Einstein was 26 when he wrote the theory of relativity. MLK wrote the "I have a dream" speech at age 34. Rosa was 42 when she wouldn't give up her bus seat. Ford was 45 when the Ford T came out. Da Vinci painted Mona at age 51. Sully guided his aircraft into the Hudson at age 57.
I bet though.. if any of the above were granted life into their 60's, and you asked 'em, they'd pick that age as the best.
Dogs drool, cats rule (I jest), but 60-something friggin' rocks.
Jack Lalane, at age 70, handcuffed, shackled, towed 70 rowboats.
"Sex at age 90 is like playing pool with a rope." George Burns.
I can't wait!
Enjoy your day(s).......
By Henry Gibson LX-something
Love, Victurd
Ohhhhhh age.
"Wrinkles should merely indicate where the smiles have been." Mark Twain.
Daily, I down way too much coffee first thing... I watch the local news... drool a bit at how pretty Donna Pitman is.. and think whatinthehell to write about today. Trust me, it beats the hell outta getting up, wondering, whatinthehell am I gonna wear to work today, whatinthehell the roads are like, wheninthehell is payday I needs me some gas in the car...yada.
I thought about age. I like my age, and I think suffice to say most people in their 60's, 70's and beyond, feel similarly. I wondered aloud "when I was 9, did I like my age?" Of course I did, but I appreciate 9 more now that I'm 60-something.
I thought about High School... and how there was only one speed - all out fun. Hindsight, it was "Facebookish like".. She said what? He did what? Did you see that? Everyone's going Saturday night, you? Arguments. Jokes. Where silly is routine. Flirtation. One-upmanship. Flashmobs of the Stones, Diana Ross, Jimi, The Temps, Zeppelin breaking out in basements.. Ahhhhhh, fun. But did I/we know at 16, or 18, how much we enjoyed that age?
"Youth can not know how age thinks and feels. But old men are guilty if they forget what it was to be young." J.K. Rowling
Trust me JK, we ain't forgot.
Newlywed age.. Good God Gerty, will there be this much sex my entire life? I'm tired but I'm loving it! (The answer is NO, so tape it, video it, so you can remember back to skinny, and to when you could move! Oh baby did you move!) JK, kinda sorta.. I think, er, I hope, we all appreciated, enjoyed that - but ain't sure it was the age itself we were in love with. Being 60-something, it's easy to be in love with 20/30-something. Life, pre Geritol. Yum.
40-something lines up to bring a proudness.. to me anyways. Instead of another attempt to burst the waterbed - one rolls over to his/her side in the # bed.. hugs.. spoons.. loves, but rests.. By 40-something, we've all been thru a few things.. A greater appreciation for loved ones, good friends, the paths of people..our own path.. But, did we really know how enjoyable 40-something was at the time?
"We don't understand life any better at forty than at twenty, but we know it and admit it." Jules Renard
By age 50, we have all that crap (tables, chairs, beds, lava lamps, pictures, posters, yada) that we thought looked so cool 20, 30 years ago - well, now it's in our basement.. or garage so when we keel it's our kid's problem, not ours!.. Should the need arise (say the grocery cart starts rolling towards someone's Caddy) we can still run - but only for short distances. We have one eye on yesteryear, and the other firmly peeking at wheninthehell do I get outta Dodge (work}? The really lucky ones have empty nest quietness, yet, lay in hopes of one day (again) having a 6 and an 8 year old running around the house bonking each other with balloons.
50, we've got a little bit more money. So we go, do. Honey, we're too old for sex, wanna go to Jamaica? We don't know how to behave at 50-something. We all think we've still got that little kid inside still, but we're completely lost in thinking about what it's gonna be like to be 60 or 70-something. 50-something really isn't appreciated enough, until we're 60-something - or so I've found.
"Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana." Groucho Marx
About 60-something.. quoting that nerdy little Austin Powers "YEAHHH BABY!".. I friggin love 60-something. I have a greater appreciation for someone that's 3. I/we LOVE seeing them go thru the stage where we've see our own selves, and our own children go thru. Even better, when they get a bigass toy for Christmas, we get to watch mom/dad frustratingly assemble it. We hear our kids parent, and it's an echo of our own damnself, only with a wonderful smirk attached. (I'm reminded of the lady I followed for about five aisles in WallyWorld.. one tot outta the cart, grabbing everything in sight, one tot inside the cart, throwing everything that was put in the cart, back out onto the floor. With growing frustration, she chastised each, several times. "I'm not gonna tell you again" was in there several times. Finally somewhere around the 5th aisle she let out "God.. I sound just like my Mother." We get it honey, we get it.
You can't take 9, 17, 26, 38, 43, 56 from us. We've been there, done that. We might notta appreciated it then, but we sureashell do now.
At 60-something, we look in the mirror, and we don't care. We think back about how much we worried about our job, and now we don't care. We know we're slowing up a bit, but our hearts and eyeballs "Go like 60", tyvm Bonita Allen. It is damn hard to wipe ones smile off at age 60-something. We've seen it, done it, waded thru that crap - nuh uh, you ain't gonna get me to frown. I love life. I love 60-something. I've loved EVERY age, but this is the first time "I get it." (And hell to the yes the kid still lives inside!)
Mozart was composing at age 5. Shirly Temple was a movie star at age 6. Pele won the World Cup at age 17. Elvis was a superstar at age 19. Einstein was 26 when he wrote the theory of relativity. MLK wrote the "I have a dream" speech at age 34. Rosa was 42 when she wouldn't give up her bus seat. Ford was 45 when the Ford T came out. Da Vinci painted Mona at age 51. Sully guided his aircraft into the Hudson at age 57.
I bet though.. if any of the above were granted life into their 60's, and you asked 'em, they'd pick that age as the best.
Dogs drool, cats rule (I jest), but 60-something friggin' rocks.
Jack Lalane, at age 70, handcuffed, shackled, towed 70 rowboats.
"Sex at age 90 is like playing pool with a rope." George Burns.
I can't wait!
Enjoy your day(s).......
By Henry Gibson LX-something
Love, Victurd
Monday, December 10, 2018
Don't rock the boat............. burn it.
I hate Tony Robbins.
OK, that's a lie. He's confident. He's driven. He's so stinking positive. Maybe it's those qualities he's got I ain't got, why I hate him. Again, I don't. I admire him, it's just hard to ride in that same boat.
He uses the phrase "If you want to take the island you need to burn the boats." Seems he borrowed this from an expedition to Veracruz, Mexico that Hernan Cortes led in 1519. The idea was to capture the magnificent treasure said to be there. 600 Spaniards, 16 horses, 11 boats. Once they finally made it to Mexico, Cortes burned the 11 boats.
Huh? Yeah, he did. This sent a clear message to his troops, "there is no turning back," either win or perish. No exit strategy. Fired up the dudes, and within two years they'd accomplished the task at hand.
Stealing s'more from the article I read on this motivational dude, he told another story of Hebrew tradition. In ancient times, Israelite armies would besiege enemy cities from THREE sides, thus, leaving the possibility of escape. Worked. As long as the enemy knew they had an escape route - that's usually what happened.
Burn the boats.
What are your success/failure stories? Full steam ahead, or, "I ain't so sure I can do this."
My ex girlfriend's daughter had an idea. She also had colicky babies. She envisioned a "wrap" (Sweater) that would solve many 'mommy' purposes. It would snug the baby up to ya. It would cover ya up when you breastfeed. It would have more pockets than there would be drawers in a Snap On tool, toolbox - oh, and it would be quite fashionable. All that PLUS a strap to hold/retain/not lose, a binky.
Her mom, my ex gf, burned the boats in taking this creative idea and moving it to an actual business.
Me? I woulda made a hurried template, cut fabric, sewn it, thrown it on E-Bay with the thought "this'll never work, but it's OK, at least I tried." (As you see.. I've got this boat that will take me back to where I came from.)
Not her. She burned the boats. I would leave for work early morn, she'd be at computer with her blueprint. I'd come home at night, she'd be at her computer with her blueprint, ten pages of notes, four or five pages in the trash, and a handwritten step-by-step 'dated' plan to make this come to fruition. She took 30 years of business experience (And of course her daughter's assistance), and finely honed this idea, item.
This went on. And on. The template. Fabric researched. Fabric sewn, tossed. Again, and again, and again - until it was Goldilocks porridge right. Patents. Insurance. Invoicing, accounting, flow, purchasing, marketing, yada yada yada into infinity - until it worked. Failure be damned, she was confident. This process took almost two years from idea, to BOOM, the first "The Mommy Wrap" rolled off the assembly line. They are now in their third year of production.(Bored? Google 'em, it's pretty cool. It's also on E-Bay, Amazon, and a hella lotta other websites where you sell junk. Junk said lovingly, it's a very cool item.)
The idea, again, don't look back. Burn the boats.
I, on the other hand, set myself up for failure upon occasion. OK damnit, you got me, with certain regularity. What? Me? In a relationship? Oh, I fear failure. Rejection. Other undesired outcomes, I ALWAYS leave my boat at the dock for escape, or, leave one side of the 'acre' to escape, get the heck outta here. Thus, I've failed in the past.
What's in your wallet? By that, I mean, howabout you? You there, yep, the ones that just celebrated 40-something year of marriage, KUDOS. You burned the boats and took the necessary risk needed to find and sustain a deep and fulfilling relationship. Way cool, and again congrats for burning that boat.
I jest. Some. I've been in two wonderful relationships. Ultimately the boat rocked, swimmers jumped.
Non-personal relationships. Driven. You ever been driven? Twice I have. I literally fell into the job of assistant women's basketball coach at a small college. I was a sophomore in college. Before this offer, I lived in the gym. I wasn't good enough to play in college, but I loved, loved, loved, the game. The combination of my love and that offer made me driven. I lived, breathed basketball. I read every book I could get my hands on. I went to clinics.
At one clinic, a pro basketball coach told a story about how he got an "inbounds play' from his daughter's 3rd grade basketball team. I watched games, and games, and more games. "Whointhehell is that guy and why is he writing in a notebook at a basketball game?" I was OK at it (coaching.) Far from perfect, but I had burned boats because failure wasn't an option. One of the few times in my ADHD life I've been driven.(The second? Eh, the company I worked for went brankrupt. I started a business kinda sorta within the same industry - and again, failure, hopping back on the boat, wasn't an option. I kinda enjoyed eating food for dinner.)
Another ex girlfriend.. (Victor, we're noticing a pattern here).. uh huh, are. Another ex girlfriend, well, she's the best Christian I know. She reads the Bible every single day. She goes to studies. She leads studies. And of course, she goes to Church. She will not step into the boats of temptation, and the odds are with her because she's got The Big Guy on her team, at her beck and calling if ever a time of need.
I'm rambling. Sorry. I do that. It's akin to jumping in a boat, saying to self, "you ain't gonna make it, turn back!" Har. I jest. Some.
I just glanced at my belly. Well, not really. I felt a breeze so I looked down to see if my zipper was up and I couldn't see my zipper because my belly was in the way. So, I glanced at it.
I'm thinking about taking my boat (car) to the gym. Once there I will slash the tires, sever the battery connections, pour lighter fluid on the seats, take the most recent newspapers laying on the floorboard, place 'em on toppa the lighter fluid, then torch that sucker. Burn the boat Victor, get ridda that belly.
Should you see my name pop-up on caller ID, please pickup. I might need a ride home.
What's in your wallet? You driven? You allow a way out? Does your boat still float?
Don't rock the boat. Unless of course, it's you, your honey that's in a relationship with you, and you're on a 'pleasure cruise', so to speak.
Love, Victurd
OK, that's a lie. He's confident. He's driven. He's so stinking positive. Maybe it's those qualities he's got I ain't got, why I hate him. Again, I don't. I admire him, it's just hard to ride in that same boat.
He uses the phrase "If you want to take the island you need to burn the boats." Seems he borrowed this from an expedition to Veracruz, Mexico that Hernan Cortes led in 1519. The idea was to capture the magnificent treasure said to be there. 600 Spaniards, 16 horses, 11 boats. Once they finally made it to Mexico, Cortes burned the 11 boats.
Huh? Yeah, he did. This sent a clear message to his troops, "there is no turning back," either win or perish. No exit strategy. Fired up the dudes, and within two years they'd accomplished the task at hand.
Stealing s'more from the article I read on this motivational dude, he told another story of Hebrew tradition. In ancient times, Israelite armies would besiege enemy cities from THREE sides, thus, leaving the possibility of escape. Worked. As long as the enemy knew they had an escape route - that's usually what happened.
Burn the boats.
What are your success/failure stories? Full steam ahead, or, "I ain't so sure I can do this."
My ex girlfriend's daughter had an idea. She also had colicky babies. She envisioned a "wrap" (Sweater) that would solve many 'mommy' purposes. It would snug the baby up to ya. It would cover ya up when you breastfeed. It would have more pockets than there would be drawers in a Snap On tool, toolbox - oh, and it would be quite fashionable. All that PLUS a strap to hold/retain/not lose, a binky.
Her mom, my ex gf, burned the boats in taking this creative idea and moving it to an actual business.
Me? I woulda made a hurried template, cut fabric, sewn it, thrown it on E-Bay with the thought "this'll never work, but it's OK, at least I tried." (As you see.. I've got this boat that will take me back to where I came from.)
Not her. She burned the boats. I would leave for work early morn, she'd be at computer with her blueprint. I'd come home at night, she'd be at her computer with her blueprint, ten pages of notes, four or five pages in the trash, and a handwritten step-by-step 'dated' plan to make this come to fruition. She took 30 years of business experience (And of course her daughter's assistance), and finely honed this idea, item.
This went on. And on. The template. Fabric researched. Fabric sewn, tossed. Again, and again, and again - until it was Goldilocks porridge right. Patents. Insurance. Invoicing, accounting, flow, purchasing, marketing, yada yada yada into infinity - until it worked. Failure be damned, she was confident. This process took almost two years from idea, to BOOM, the first "The Mommy Wrap" rolled off the assembly line. They are now in their third year of production.(Bored? Google 'em, it's pretty cool. It's also on E-Bay, Amazon, and a hella lotta other websites where you sell junk. Junk said lovingly, it's a very cool item.)
The idea, again, don't look back. Burn the boats.
I, on the other hand, set myself up for failure upon occasion. OK damnit, you got me, with certain regularity. What? Me? In a relationship? Oh, I fear failure. Rejection. Other undesired outcomes, I ALWAYS leave my boat at the dock for escape, or, leave one side of the 'acre' to escape, get the heck outta here. Thus, I've failed in the past.
What's in your wallet? By that, I mean, howabout you? You there, yep, the ones that just celebrated 40-something year of marriage, KUDOS. You burned the boats and took the necessary risk needed to find and sustain a deep and fulfilling relationship. Way cool, and again congrats for burning that boat.
I jest. Some. I've been in two wonderful relationships. Ultimately the boat rocked, swimmers jumped.
Non-personal relationships. Driven. You ever been driven? Twice I have. I literally fell into the job of assistant women's basketball coach at a small college. I was a sophomore in college. Before this offer, I lived in the gym. I wasn't good enough to play in college, but I loved, loved, loved, the game. The combination of my love and that offer made me driven. I lived, breathed basketball. I read every book I could get my hands on. I went to clinics.
At one clinic, a pro basketball coach told a story about how he got an "inbounds play' from his daughter's 3rd grade basketball team. I watched games, and games, and more games. "Whointhehell is that guy and why is he writing in a notebook at a basketball game?" I was OK at it (coaching.) Far from perfect, but I had burned boats because failure wasn't an option. One of the few times in my ADHD life I've been driven.(The second? Eh, the company I worked for went brankrupt. I started a business kinda sorta within the same industry - and again, failure, hopping back on the boat, wasn't an option. I kinda enjoyed eating food for dinner.)
Another ex girlfriend.. (Victor, we're noticing a pattern here).. uh huh, are. Another ex girlfriend, well, she's the best Christian I know. She reads the Bible every single day. She goes to studies. She leads studies. And of course, she goes to Church. She will not step into the boats of temptation, and the odds are with her because she's got The Big Guy on her team, at her beck and calling if ever a time of need.
I'm rambling. Sorry. I do that. It's akin to jumping in a boat, saying to self, "you ain't gonna make it, turn back!" Har. I jest. Some.
I just glanced at my belly. Well, not really. I felt a breeze so I looked down to see if my zipper was up and I couldn't see my zipper because my belly was in the way. So, I glanced at it.
I'm thinking about taking my boat (car) to the gym. Once there I will slash the tires, sever the battery connections, pour lighter fluid on the seats, take the most recent newspapers laying on the floorboard, place 'em on toppa the lighter fluid, then torch that sucker. Burn the boat Victor, get ridda that belly.
Should you see my name pop-up on caller ID, please pickup. I might need a ride home.
What's in your wallet? You driven? You allow a way out? Does your boat still float?
Don't rock the boat. Unless of course, it's you, your honey that's in a relationship with you, and you're on a 'pleasure cruise', so to speak.
Love, Victurd
Friday, December 07, 2018
Mountain Shadows......
Rip Van Winkle purposely wandered off to the Catskill Mountains to escape his nagging wife. Rip could very well have been Shiela, or Suzie, or Katie, escaping a male chauvinist piggy. He drank. Piddled. Slept. Returned - 20 years later. Much had changed.
As I do damn near every morning - I think and think and think (too much) on what to write about. As light finally crept thru the window shades, it dawned on me. Please laugh, it's probably the best you're gonna get here.
Life is Van Winkle.
Oh there are the lucky ones, GHWB and Barbara, 73 years married. The Smiths and the Joneses, next door neighbors fitty years. The dudes, dudettes that worked together, griped, groaned, toiled, laughed, struggled, shone, retired, that meet up at the Piggly Wiggly every Sunday since.
Mates. Siblings. Best buds. Whether it be a text. A phone call. A visit. An email. Whatever, there is perty much constant touch over the years. That's special - but it's also rare.
Yesterday, 15 or so buddies from college, fraternity brothers (or, "Alligater snap snap" buddies as one of my wonderful friends that never wanted to, never did join a fraternity referred us to..ie, Polo shirts) met up as we've been trying to do monthly. Monthly yes, but after 40+ years, mebbbe weakly. On this occasion, three popped in that I/we hadn't seen in YEARS.
We, brothers, back in that day - were (proud) hellions. Bridging our future but lost in one heck of a lotta fun. That ain't the point though - even though, looking back, it was one of the most wonderful eras of my own, personal life.
It's that, sometimes years go by. It may be a grocery store meetup. You might be two stools down at the barber shop. Twelve rows behind at a play. Section 308 at Kauffman Stadium. Ya just never know when (or if) you are ever gonna run into folks from yesteryear.
Meteors. Incandescent. Gone.
I write too much. Fortunately, I talk hella less. I was, and usually am, content, when in person, to be the one "thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt." In fact, as the lunch hour ended and the poor bastards that are still working had to rise up, say goodbyes - we rearranged chairs so we could all be close, hear, converse. "Here," I pointed for a buddy to take my chair closest to the crowd as I moved down one in the other direction, "you sit here, I don't talk very much!"
I LOVED listening to the stories. I loved hearing of kids, grandkids, things that have transpired in their lives over the years.. even better, retold stories from hellion days.
Within this beautiful one and one-half hour meet up - a "townie" (ie, a Liberty person, not a fraternity brother), came up to me and said "Did you hear about _____?" I had. A buddy of ours struggles to survive a car wreck. I then asked my townie brother "Did you know ____ passed yesterday?" "No, I heard he was bad." And sadly, we spoke of another friend that's in advanced hospice.
Meteors. Incandescent. Gone.
Sadly, that's life. Sometimes us meteors meet up while we're still orbiting. It's a grand thing. Sometimes we fall to earth, and much later it's learned the light has gone out.
One of the stories shared was when three of us, officers in the fraternity, traveled by car to Del Webb's Mountain Shadows Resort in Scottsdale, Arizona.. young punks.. no idea how lucky we were to be able to do that... and we attended a cocktail hour, and were served mimosas, poolside, by Playboy Bunnies. Uh huh, you read that right. I laughed as it was recalled to me - then I remembered one of the three's meteor had burned out.
I've noticed, with each decade I/we enter, the greater the frequency of meteor showers.
Our fraternity, the Beta Xi Chapter of Sigma Nu, William Jewell College - is now defunct on campus. Seems some reasonably recent hellions behaved not half as bad as we hellions did from back in the day, standards/morals much stricter - they wiped us off the face of the campus.
For sure, thank God for Heaven.
In the meantime, catchup with an orbiting meteor from back in the day {Loved one, schoolmate, neighborhood bud, coworker, yada) - before we're all wiped off the face of the Earth.
Hi Rickety...
Love, Victurd
As I do damn near every morning - I think and think and think (too much) on what to write about. As light finally crept thru the window shades, it dawned on me. Please laugh, it's probably the best you're gonna get here.
Life is Van Winkle.
Oh there are the lucky ones, GHWB and Barbara, 73 years married. The Smiths and the Joneses, next door neighbors fitty years. The dudes, dudettes that worked together, griped, groaned, toiled, laughed, struggled, shone, retired, that meet up at the Piggly Wiggly every Sunday since.
Mates. Siblings. Best buds. Whether it be a text. A phone call. A visit. An email. Whatever, there is perty much constant touch over the years. That's special - but it's also rare.
Yesterday, 15 or so buddies from college, fraternity brothers (or, "Alligater snap snap" buddies as one of my wonderful friends that never wanted to, never did join a fraternity referred us to..ie, Polo shirts) met up as we've been trying to do monthly. Monthly yes, but after 40+ years, mebbbe weakly. On this occasion, three popped in that I/we hadn't seen in YEARS.
We, brothers, back in that day - were (proud) hellions. Bridging our future but lost in one heck of a lotta fun. That ain't the point though - even though, looking back, it was one of the most wonderful eras of my own, personal life.
It's that, sometimes years go by. It may be a grocery store meetup. You might be two stools down at the barber shop. Twelve rows behind at a play. Section 308 at Kauffman Stadium. Ya just never know when (or if) you are ever gonna run into folks from yesteryear.
Meteors. Incandescent. Gone.
I write too much. Fortunately, I talk hella less. I was, and usually am, content, when in person, to be the one "thought a fool, than to speak and remove all doubt." In fact, as the lunch hour ended and the poor bastards that are still working had to rise up, say goodbyes - we rearranged chairs so we could all be close, hear, converse. "Here," I pointed for a buddy to take my chair closest to the crowd as I moved down one in the other direction, "you sit here, I don't talk very much!"
I LOVED listening to the stories. I loved hearing of kids, grandkids, things that have transpired in their lives over the years.. even better, retold stories from hellion days.
Within this beautiful one and one-half hour meet up - a "townie" (ie, a Liberty person, not a fraternity brother), came up to me and said "Did you hear about _____?" I had. A buddy of ours struggles to survive a car wreck. I then asked my townie brother "Did you know ____ passed yesterday?" "No, I heard he was bad." And sadly, we spoke of another friend that's in advanced hospice.
Meteors. Incandescent. Gone.
Sadly, that's life. Sometimes us meteors meet up while we're still orbiting. It's a grand thing. Sometimes we fall to earth, and much later it's learned the light has gone out.
One of the stories shared was when three of us, officers in the fraternity, traveled by car to Del Webb's Mountain Shadows Resort in Scottsdale, Arizona.. young punks.. no idea how lucky we were to be able to do that... and we attended a cocktail hour, and were served mimosas, poolside, by Playboy Bunnies. Uh huh, you read that right. I laughed as it was recalled to me - then I remembered one of the three's meteor had burned out.
I've noticed, with each decade I/we enter, the greater the frequency of meteor showers.
Our fraternity, the Beta Xi Chapter of Sigma Nu, William Jewell College - is now defunct on campus. Seems some reasonably recent hellions behaved not half as bad as we hellions did from back in the day, standards/morals much stricter - they wiped us off the face of the campus.
For sure, thank God for Heaven.
In the meantime, catchup with an orbiting meteor from back in the day {Loved one, schoolmate, neighborhood bud, coworker, yada) - before we're all wiped off the face of the Earth.
Hi Rickety...
Love, Victurd
Wednesday, December 05, 2018
Take it, to the limit, one more time.....
Good morning.
Hope you had your limit of Turkey, family, good tidings. FYI, the leftovers have reached their limit in the fridge - toss 'em.
Turn left here if you're limited on love of the English language. I ain't, so, doing a study, reckon the sky is the limit. (Found that saying originated at a time of optimism and progress in the USA just before WWI. From the Syracuse Herald, September 1911 "Then good luck, and remember the sky's the limit."}
"Always listen to experts. They'll tell you what can't be done, and why. Then do it." Robert A. Heinlein
Austin City Limits. 16 to drive, 18 to go to war/vote, sadly, 21 in many places to buy a pack of cigs. Depends on where you play blackjack, limits from $5 minimum to $10,000 max bet. Two antlered deer limits during archery/firearm seasons combined. 12" (min) black bass, 24" paddlefish, 15" brown trout and walleye. (In Cape Cod, the groom-to-be must prove his manliness by hunting and killing either six blackbirds or three crows.)
There is a limit in calculus, but it would take up 23 pages of blog and with apologies to Ms. Schumacher and Mr. Howerton, ain't going there.
Limit on # of marriages? Some states say you must be married for 3 months, so, a maximum of 4 marriages a year..assuming age 16-81 = 55 years, then 4x55 = 220 marriages. Some have no limit, so, an hour for a shotgun marriage, 2 hours for a divorce - with 6 hours sleep, that's 6 marriages a day, 365 days = 2190 a year times 55 = 120,450 times you can get married in your life. Here's to screaming out wrong name in hanky pank.
"Term limits aren't enough. We need jail." P.J. O'Rourke
Incredible Hulk reach limit, he turn green. Housewife, she throw frying pan. Househubby, he drive off with boat/trailer. DT - Tweets.
McCoin limits at MickyD's in McCanada.. Sorry grandpa, it's illegal to pay $5 in nickels, $10 in dimes - no one wants your damn change.
"The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits." Albert Einstein
Pediatrician advise "set limits"... Find life's limits annoying? Think of problems becoming opportunities. Exercise? Listen to body. Live outside the box.
In the UK, you are limited in that you cannot manhandle seafood (Salmon, trout, eels, lampreys, smelt and freshwater fish) in a suspicious manner. Acting shifty with a shrimp cocktail is apparently still acceptable.
China.. 2013. Eased the limit on number of children from 1 to 2, IF, one of the parents was an only child.
Pueblo, Colorado, it's illegal to let a dandelion grow within the city limits.
Limits on dogs/cats vary. Omaha, for example, 3 dogs, 5 cats. Most cities total limits under ten combined. BRB, going to call/warn my ex sister inlaw. Most ever, you ask? Jack and Donna Wright, Kingston, Ontario have bookoo Kitty Litter for their 689 cats. Kublai Khan reigned Mongol Empire from 1260-1294, mebbe why he had most Mongrels, 5,000 Mastiffs.
In New Britain, CT, the speed limit for fire trucks is 25 mph, even when going to a fire. (Port Huron, MI it's a 20 mph limit for ambulances.)
In Western Australia it is off limits (illegal) to crush a beer can between your boobs ($1000 fine). Quite certain folks might start a GoFundMeMate for you though. (Western Australia is finicky, you may not own more than 110 lbs of potatoes at one time. Tater, tatas limits I guess)
There are not only alcohol limits for driving in Scotland, but if you are caught intoxicated (Mooving violation?), riding a cow, it's a 200 pound ($256) fine AND almost a year in jail.
Contrary to popular belief, there are speed limits on the Autobahn. Yes, there are stretches where you can put the pedal to the metal (and those sections are limited, ha, and growing more limited year by year), but for the most part, 80-81 mph is tops.
There's a 40 mile stretch in Texas between Austin and San Antonio that has a posted speed limit of 85 mph. (Alaska and the District of Columbia have the pokiest speed limits, at an AVERAGE of 55.)
"In our society, the women who break down barriers are those who ignore limits." Arnold Schwarzenegger
My eyeballs have reached their limit. Off to a nap. Please have no limitation on fun today,
Love, Victurd
Hope you had your limit of Turkey, family, good tidings. FYI, the leftovers have reached their limit in the fridge - toss 'em.
Turn left here if you're limited on love of the English language. I ain't, so, doing a study, reckon the sky is the limit. (Found that saying originated at a time of optimism and progress in the USA just before WWI. From the Syracuse Herald, September 1911 "Then good luck, and remember the sky's the limit."}
"Always listen to experts. They'll tell you what can't be done, and why. Then do it." Robert A. Heinlein
Austin City Limits. 16 to drive, 18 to go to war/vote, sadly, 21 in many places to buy a pack of cigs. Depends on where you play blackjack, limits from $5 minimum to $10,000 max bet. Two antlered deer limits during archery/firearm seasons combined. 12" (min) black bass, 24" paddlefish, 15" brown trout and walleye. (In Cape Cod, the groom-to-be must prove his manliness by hunting and killing either six blackbirds or three crows.)
There is a limit in calculus, but it would take up 23 pages of blog and with apologies to Ms. Schumacher and Mr. Howerton, ain't going there.
Limit on # of marriages? Some states say you must be married for 3 months, so, a maximum of 4 marriages a year..assuming age 16-81 = 55 years, then 4x55 = 220 marriages. Some have no limit, so, an hour for a shotgun marriage, 2 hours for a divorce - with 6 hours sleep, that's 6 marriages a day, 365 days = 2190 a year times 55 = 120,450 times you can get married in your life. Here's to screaming out wrong name in hanky pank.
"Term limits aren't enough. We need jail." P.J. O'Rourke
Incredible Hulk reach limit, he turn green. Housewife, she throw frying pan. Househubby, he drive off with boat/trailer. DT - Tweets.
McCoin limits at MickyD's in McCanada.. Sorry grandpa, it's illegal to pay $5 in nickels, $10 in dimes - no one wants your damn change.
"The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits." Albert Einstein
Pediatrician advise "set limits"... Find life's limits annoying? Think of problems becoming opportunities. Exercise? Listen to body. Live outside the box.
In the UK, you are limited in that you cannot manhandle seafood (Salmon, trout, eels, lampreys, smelt and freshwater fish) in a suspicious manner. Acting shifty with a shrimp cocktail is apparently still acceptable.
China.. 2013. Eased the limit on number of children from 1 to 2, IF, one of the parents was an only child.
Pueblo, Colorado, it's illegal to let a dandelion grow within the city limits.
Limits on dogs/cats vary. Omaha, for example, 3 dogs, 5 cats. Most cities total limits under ten combined. BRB, going to call/warn my ex sister inlaw. Most ever, you ask? Jack and Donna Wright, Kingston, Ontario have bookoo Kitty Litter for their 689 cats. Kublai Khan reigned Mongol Empire from 1260-1294, mebbe why he had most Mongrels, 5,000 Mastiffs.
In New Britain, CT, the speed limit for fire trucks is 25 mph, even when going to a fire. (Port Huron, MI it's a 20 mph limit for ambulances.)
In Western Australia it is off limits (illegal) to crush a beer can between your boobs ($1000 fine). Quite certain folks might start a GoFundMeMate for you though. (Western Australia is finicky, you may not own more than 110 lbs of potatoes at one time. Tater, tatas limits I guess)
There are not only alcohol limits for driving in Scotland, but if you are caught intoxicated (Mooving violation?), riding a cow, it's a 200 pound ($256) fine AND almost a year in jail.
Contrary to popular belief, there are speed limits on the Autobahn. Yes, there are stretches where you can put the pedal to the metal (and those sections are limited, ha, and growing more limited year by year), but for the most part, 80-81 mph is tops.
There's a 40 mile stretch in Texas between Austin and San Antonio that has a posted speed limit of 85 mph. (Alaska and the District of Columbia have the pokiest speed limits, at an AVERAGE of 55.)
"In our society, the women who break down barriers are those who ignore limits." Arnold Schwarzenegger
My eyeballs have reached their limit. Off to a nap. Please have no limitation on fun today,
Love, Victurd
Sunday, December 02, 2018
Insomnia..... Hallmark.... Real tears...
Upon occasion (that's not true, damn near every 'night') I find my eyes wide open at 3am. I try snoozing on the opposite side - nope..So, back to the normal side for one last try - nope.
So, this morning I was up. To make coffee or not? I did. Flipped the TV on - intent was to watch whatever channel it was on until my eyes couldn't take it any more and I'd return to bed, inspitea having coffee.
A movie. Hallmark I think it was. Of course, a love story. They fall. They do really cute things together (four whole minutes of the movie were spent watching them makeout in various places around town.) She gets her dream job in a State miles away. He's heartbroken. She flies off. Walks into new job first day, smiles abound. Right decision, but soon, she misses him very much.
One day not long after - on an observation tower overlooking skyscrapers (of course), he finds the lass.. They smooch.. Down on his knees he asks. "YES!" They smooch. Soon, the credits roll, as did (close your ears) a few tears of mine. And, it's assumed they lived HAPPILY EVER AFTER.....
Which..... encompasses:
Them sleeping naked. Well, it's the new millennium, they've done that, but now, they must each wash the other's drawers. Eww. He realizes she's a night owl, sleeps in. He wants hanky pank at 8pm, snooze by 9. The first 7 days she sleeps thru her alarm it's cute. Day 8 he whomps her with his pillow. A Sleep Number bed helps - but soon, the German Shepherd puppy will take up 1/2 of the bed, rendering them each to the outer 1/4.
Soon, morning sickness. Later, delivery where she calls him every name in book for getting her in this place to begin with. Baby makes one forget all that.
Colic ahead. They thumb rassle at 2am to see who will get up with screaming child. The day will come the child is on his/her last diaper, and it's fulla poop. The car that's behind in the driveway won't start, so, he finagles the car in front thru the yard, gets stuck, has an $80 tow bill, but...also, soon, a bag filled with a sack of newborn Huggies.
One of the two will one day find their phone in the upstairs toilet. (FYI to them, it's bullshit about rice, never works.} Potty training will include derailment, then paper/scissors/rock to see whose turn it is.
They'll watch him/her bravely hop on the bus to kindergarten.. She breaks down, he snuggles her and hopes she doesn't see that he's tearing up.
She'll have a flat tire on Interstate. The left one... and soccer practice ends in 7 minutes.
She'll forego 3 months of StitchFix, as will he 3 months of 'poker night' with the buddies, in order to buy way too many damn presents for their kid(s) at Christmas.
He'll swallow, happily, everything she cooks - thus, learns to cook himself - and in years, he'll be happy for being able to down one of her many wonderful meals. He makes lasagna every other Thursday, and would like a medal for doing so.
Their kid begins dating, and they think back to that day Michelle Obama was on Ellen, and she talked about when their daughter began dating, and how two secret service cars followed right on their tail, and that's a main reason they were glad for a 2nd term.
Kid meets annuder, falls in love. Marries. This time he lets her see him cry. They return to empty nest later that night. He wants hanky pank, she's more attuned to watching Jimmy Kimmel on the couch, falling asleep thereafter.
They will lose jobs, car keys, cell phones... sadly, loved ones and classmates.
They will each lose their cool approximately 673 times over the years. She sees that as "you were such an ass, did I really throw that candlestick at you?", he views it as "ah, 1300-some times of make-up hanky pank."
One day, getting ready to go out, she will have her duds on, turn to him and ask "Does this make my butt look big?".. With one eye on the rolling pin, he doesn't answer, but connects his phone to youtube and plays Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight" for a quick 3 minute dance, in hopes of hanky pank after they return from the evening.
Looks fade, love deepens.
They'll one day youtube Gloria Gaynor's "I will survive".. remember the burnt pork chops, poopy diapers, more bills than bank balance, that bad fight they got into in '33 and can't neither of 'em remember what it was about or who started it. Aging parents and sad endings.
They'll also remember the walks together. Wonderful bad breath morning kisses. Hugs. Hands held. Backs rubbed. Soup fixed for colds. The delight in each others eyes over something their kid did. Laughing at past "howinthehell are we gonna make it thru this?"... Decorating 48 Christmas trees together. All the doors he held open for her. All the peanut butter cookies she took to him on the couch.
Then. One 'night', around 3am he will get insomnia. He'll watch a patented Hallmark movie about love from the sofa (she'd zonked on the couch, but he slid her down enough so he'd have room too.) The credits will roll. He'll shed tears, real tears. Insteada bonking her over the head with a pillow, he'll kiss her cheek, carry her into her sleep number 63 side, lay her down to sleep. Pet the hound, jump is his 32# side, slide the cat over so they'll each have halfa pillow..
And think back on how lucky they both each are.
By Henry Hallmark Gibson,
Love, Victurd
So, this morning I was up. To make coffee or not? I did. Flipped the TV on - intent was to watch whatever channel it was on until my eyes couldn't take it any more and I'd return to bed, inspitea having coffee.
A movie. Hallmark I think it was. Of course, a love story. They fall. They do really cute things together (four whole minutes of the movie were spent watching them makeout in various places around town.) She gets her dream job in a State miles away. He's heartbroken. She flies off. Walks into new job first day, smiles abound. Right decision, but soon, she misses him very much.
One day not long after - on an observation tower overlooking skyscrapers (of course), he finds the lass.. They smooch.. Down on his knees he asks. "YES!" They smooch. Soon, the credits roll, as did (close your ears) a few tears of mine. And, it's assumed they lived HAPPILY EVER AFTER.....
Which..... encompasses:
Them sleeping naked. Well, it's the new millennium, they've done that, but now, they must each wash the other's drawers. Eww. He realizes she's a night owl, sleeps in. He wants hanky pank at 8pm, snooze by 9. The first 7 days she sleeps thru her alarm it's cute. Day 8 he whomps her with his pillow. A Sleep Number bed helps - but soon, the German Shepherd puppy will take up 1/2 of the bed, rendering them each to the outer 1/4.
Soon, morning sickness. Later, delivery where she calls him every name in book for getting her in this place to begin with. Baby makes one forget all that.
Colic ahead. They thumb rassle at 2am to see who will get up with screaming child. The day will come the child is on his/her last diaper, and it's fulla poop. The car that's behind in the driveway won't start, so, he finagles the car in front thru the yard, gets stuck, has an $80 tow bill, but...also, soon, a bag filled with a sack of newborn Huggies.
One of the two will one day find their phone in the upstairs toilet. (FYI to them, it's bullshit about rice, never works.} Potty training will include derailment, then paper/scissors/rock to see whose turn it is.
They'll watch him/her bravely hop on the bus to kindergarten.. She breaks down, he snuggles her and hopes she doesn't see that he's tearing up.
She'll have a flat tire on Interstate. The left one... and soccer practice ends in 7 minutes.
She'll forego 3 months of StitchFix, as will he 3 months of 'poker night' with the buddies, in order to buy way too many damn presents for their kid(s) at Christmas.
He'll swallow, happily, everything she cooks - thus, learns to cook himself - and in years, he'll be happy for being able to down one of her many wonderful meals. He makes lasagna every other Thursday, and would like a medal for doing so.
Their kid begins dating, and they think back to that day Michelle Obama was on Ellen, and she talked about when their daughter began dating, and how two secret service cars followed right on their tail, and that's a main reason they were glad for a 2nd term.
Kid meets annuder, falls in love. Marries. This time he lets her see him cry. They return to empty nest later that night. He wants hanky pank, she's more attuned to watching Jimmy Kimmel on the couch, falling asleep thereafter.
They will lose jobs, car keys, cell phones... sadly, loved ones and classmates.
They will each lose their cool approximately 673 times over the years. She sees that as "you were such an ass, did I really throw that candlestick at you?", he views it as "ah, 1300-some times of make-up hanky pank."
One day, getting ready to go out, she will have her duds on, turn to him and ask "Does this make my butt look big?".. With one eye on the rolling pin, he doesn't answer, but connects his phone to youtube and plays Eric Clapton's "Wonderful Tonight" for a quick 3 minute dance, in hopes of hanky pank after they return from the evening.
Looks fade, love deepens.
They'll one day youtube Gloria Gaynor's "I will survive".. remember the burnt pork chops, poopy diapers, more bills than bank balance, that bad fight they got into in '33 and can't neither of 'em remember what it was about or who started it. Aging parents and sad endings.
They'll also remember the walks together. Wonderful bad breath morning kisses. Hugs. Hands held. Backs rubbed. Soup fixed for colds. The delight in each others eyes over something their kid did. Laughing at past "howinthehell are we gonna make it thru this?"... Decorating 48 Christmas trees together. All the doors he held open for her. All the peanut butter cookies she took to him on the couch.
Then. One 'night', around 3am he will get insomnia. He'll watch a patented Hallmark movie about love from the sofa (she'd zonked on the couch, but he slid her down enough so he'd have room too.) The credits will roll. He'll shed tears, real tears. Insteada bonking her over the head with a pillow, he'll kiss her cheek, carry her into her sleep number 63 side, lay her down to sleep. Pet the hound, jump is his 32# side, slide the cat over so they'll each have halfa pillow..
And think back on how lucky they both each are.
By Henry Hallmark Gibson,
Love, Victurd
Saturday, December 01, 2018
A day in the life........
A day off.
Ferris Bueller took one. KC area kids took two recently due to snow (some, three). Kareem Hunt is taking a buncha days off.
"The best cure for an off day is a day off." Frank Tyger
REASONS, according to the internet, people need TO TAKE A DAY OFF:
When asked, "What do you do for fun?" you can't remember.
You're on a first name basis with everyone on the night cleaning crew.
You accidentally laugh when your boss asks you to do something.
You snap at your coworker when he asks to borrow a Post-it.
You've emailed the wrong John - not once, not twice, but three times in a week.
You get home, your dog growls, your kids run and your spouse greets you with "May I help you Sir?"
"Start off every day with a smile and get it over with." W.C. Fields
GOOD IDEAS FOR WHEN YOU CALL:
Car trouble
Delivery (major purchase or appliance)
Furnace needs emergency repairs
Leaky pipes
Migraine
Root canal
"Never put off till tomorrow what may be done day after tomorrow as well." Mark Twain
BAD excuses for taking a day off
Got arrested
PMS
Hungover
Office is too cold/hot
Sore feet
Stubbed toe
One place I worked, a dude called in TWICE the first week. Come Monday, the next week, 8am, he wadn't nowhere to be found. At 8:15am a manager called. "Dang, I missed the sign for the turn the glare from the sun was so bad, I'll be there in a sec."
I've told this one before, but it's ok, I think many/most who read this are old like me so maybe you've forgotten. Buddya mine and wifey played golf every Saturday. On this particular Saturday, there was a couple on a motorcycle in fronta them on the way to the course. Well, the gal had a short skirt on. Wind was blowing like crazy. Every 30' or so the wind blew her skirt up only to expose her thong bikini panties each/every time. My buddy missed the turnoff to the golf course they play at every Saturday. His wife gave him 14 days off from conversation with her.
"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it." Ferris Bueller
14 - that's the average number of sick days one takes off a year in the US.
People (some) don't/won't take a day off due to:
"I'm irreplaceable - if I don't show up, my job won't get done."
At the core of (most) every American is the idea of being a hard worker.
For many lower paid workers, the choice is easy. If you don't go to work, you don't get paid.
LET'S move to The Netherlands where workers can be absent for up to two years, while receiving 70% of their salary.
You may use my name, Victor Kendal Schultze, as a reference that I authorized you taking Monday off.
Even Henry Gibson.
Love, Victurd
"YOU'RE STILL HERE? IT'S OVER. GO HOME. GO!" Ferris Bueller
Ferris Bueller took one. KC area kids took two recently due to snow (some, three). Kareem Hunt is taking a buncha days off.
"The best cure for an off day is a day off." Frank Tyger
REASONS, according to the internet, people need TO TAKE A DAY OFF:
When asked, "What do you do for fun?" you can't remember.
You're on a first name basis with everyone on the night cleaning crew.
You accidentally laugh when your boss asks you to do something.
You snap at your coworker when he asks to borrow a Post-it.
You've emailed the wrong John - not once, not twice, but three times in a week.
You get home, your dog growls, your kids run and your spouse greets you with "May I help you Sir?"
"Start off every day with a smile and get it over with." W.C. Fields
GOOD IDEAS FOR WHEN YOU CALL:
Car trouble
Delivery (major purchase or appliance)
Furnace needs emergency repairs
Leaky pipes
Migraine
Root canal
"Never put off till tomorrow what may be done day after tomorrow as well." Mark Twain
BAD excuses for taking a day off
Got arrested
PMS
Hungover
Office is too cold/hot
Sore feet
Stubbed toe
One place I worked, a dude called in TWICE the first week. Come Monday, the next week, 8am, he wadn't nowhere to be found. At 8:15am a manager called. "Dang, I missed the sign for the turn the glare from the sun was so bad, I'll be there in a sec."
I've told this one before, but it's ok, I think many/most who read this are old like me so maybe you've forgotten. Buddya mine and wifey played golf every Saturday. On this particular Saturday, there was a couple on a motorcycle in fronta them on the way to the course. Well, the gal had a short skirt on. Wind was blowing like crazy. Every 30' or so the wind blew her skirt up only to expose her thong bikini panties each/every time. My buddy missed the turnoff to the golf course they play at every Saturday. His wife gave him 14 days off from conversation with her.
"Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it." Ferris Bueller
14 - that's the average number of sick days one takes off a year in the US.
People (some) don't/won't take a day off due to:
"I'm irreplaceable - if I don't show up, my job won't get done."
At the core of (most) every American is the idea of being a hard worker.
For many lower paid workers, the choice is easy. If you don't go to work, you don't get paid.
LET'S move to The Netherlands where workers can be absent for up to two years, while receiving 70% of their salary.
You may use my name, Victor Kendal Schultze, as a reference that I authorized you taking Monday off.
Even Henry Gibson.
Love, Victurd
"YOU'RE STILL HERE? IT'S OVER. GO HOME. GO!" Ferris Bueller
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