No no no... this ain't about Kimmel...or, The View, The Real, any Oscar/Grammy waving (mebbe well intended) do-gooder.
This is about me, the entitled one.. Entitled to gripe that is... I'm old, it's legal, expected, ya damn right. You can't gripe when there's moisture behind your ears... ya can't gripe if ya ain't changed a kajilion diapers...raised them kids to leave the roost..
You can't gripe if you still clock in, drive the commute, get a full, real, bonified paycheck..... When getting your exercise means grabbing the damn grab bar to moan and groan as ya get yourself off the toilet stool - that, THAT's when you can gripe. When. you. are. OLD.
Retired. I have a full supplement of (let's see.. 6 and 1/2 hours sleep... a 30 minute nap.... ok, bite me, two 30 minute naps.. That leaves.. hang on a sec, gotta take off my houseslippers 'cause the total is over 10.... ok, 11, 12, 13... and one to grow on... SIXTEEN AND ONE-HALF waking hours per day with absolutely nothing scheduled.
How can one be disgustingly happy, chirpy, "toppa the day to ya" for SIXTEEN AND ONE-HALF hours?
You can't. So, when you're old, and you've got that 1992 Buick in the gayrage that's got 73,000 miles on it 'cause you only drive to church and the Piggly Wiggly and back.. one is entitled to gripe.
I ain't a Star. By "Star gripes", I mean the paper. I was on a trip. I wadn't supposed to return until Saturday... but since I personally don't own onea them 92 Buicks, I had car trouble, came home early.. as in Tuesday night. I had arranged for the Kansas City Star to be cancelled until Saturday, but now I'm home, bored, and i've got extra time (after 10-12 hours of chirpiness) for griping, as well as for... reading the paper like I normally do.
So, yesterday morning, I Pavlov dogged it to Quick Trip... grabbed a copy of the Star. "That'll be $2.72 sir." WHAT (I said to myself.. I was still within my 10-12 chirpy hours)... I pay $25 a month for daily delivery. Last time I bought a paper (a Monday thru Friday paper, and it ain't been that long ago) it was a dollar.
Aware the Sunday paper was always more ($2),, then, the scissorbills had the gall to stick some inserts in the Saturday paper, raise it's rate to $2.. hmmmppff,, Old/entitled/griped. Besides, I had a buddy that wrote for The Star, they always forced him (and everyone who worked there) to take two weeks off without pay, annually.. then, they actually got ridda him altogether and plastered in generic articles from partner newspapers around the US instead. Yuck. Where was I? Oh yea.....
Being retired, entitlement to gripe is anything that's over a dime difference than normal, and this is A DOLLAR AND SEVENTY-TWO cents over normal. Wadn't the QT dudes fault, so I paid and continued on my way to usurp my diet and fetch a 300 burger from the bowling alley whilst I read the paper.
I was pretty sure I had the annual note I get from my newspaper carrier (with his phone # on it) from Christmas where he (annually) states "Thank You"and continues on (and on) to relate what a rough year it's been. (He must be old too.) Now I was never A or B smart, I carried a C+ average, but to me, this dude annually pines for a big tip.
I really am a good tipper. Not much I'm good at, but I am good at that. Usually a little over 30% at a restaurant cause I know they're only makin' $3-4 an hour to look chirpy, get my order right.
Cleavage. When i think of my carrier's annual kinda begging greeting (it's really a really begging greeting) I think of cleavage. Now I enjoy me some cleavage. Most men, even the ones that know ED.. you know ED? Even them there ones, enjoy cleavage. Too too much cleavage, nuh uh, has the reverse effect. Turn, run. So when I annually get my carrier's greeting, I turn, run. I thought I'd saved his note and I was gonna text him to restart my paper this morning, Thursday. Nope, couldn't find it.
So.... around one-ish (Wednesday) I called the Star Customer Service Department to get my paper re-started. You get there by pressing the mandated six entrees before you are patched thru to a live person... well... a "your call will be answered in the order" on hold person... After I'd eaten six bites from my 300 burger, and had 16 French Fries.. the lady finally came on the line.
She knew who I was from caller ID, and in turn verified my addy. "Yes.. and I had a restart setup for Saturday, but I came home early, so I'd like to restart my paper on Thursday. (Again, it's Wednesday). "Well I'll be glad to help you with that sir, but the soonest we could begin delivery would be Friday,"
Lemme see if I got this correct. The Knicks play the Sonics tonight in Seattle at 8pm Pacific, and the score will be in the paper tomorrow, but I'm 14 miles from you, you have the carrier's phone number, it's 1pm Central Wednesday, and you can't start my paper until Friday? I never said any of that (I was still in my chirpy 10-12 hours) but I certainly thought it.
So....... I remembered awhile ago this morning I could get the paper online since I was a subscriber, I wiped the cobwebs off my laptop... just finished reading my "paper".. so I thought I'd share my bitch, gripe, bad mood, because, again (listen close this time) it's what we old, entitled, grumpy-ass people do.
Yikes.
Thanks, I feel better.
I'm gonna log back into the Star... see if I can find me onea them low mileage little old lady 92 Buicks... Town Car of Grand Marquis would work too... yeah yeah yeah, i know they're all rear wheel drive cars... the hell, they never scrape the streets around here like they should anyways, I ain't goin' nowhere in the snow.
(Happy almost birthday to my February 29th born cousin... dang, now there's cause to gripe)..
Eternally grumpy,
Love, Victurd
Thursday, February 28, 2019
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
Biscuit's got it gravy.....
Saturday night I was in a hurry to go to sleep early... I go to bed early sometimes, but I'm never eager to get there. Saturday however, was the eve of a, maybe 'bucket list' trip, to drive to Surprise, Arizona to see the Royal's Spring Training.. I was to travel with my best friend, ha.. me.
I had any, every thing packed and ready. I was once taught, when packing for a trip, get your clothes ready, then put half of them back in the drawer, "travel light" so to speak. So, that night, I had to damn near sit atop my suitcase to get it closed. Sorry, I am, always have been, hardheaded. Nuttin' wrong with having an extra shirt, pair of jeans, pair of shorts ready whenya need 'em.
Then, as I walked to turn off the lights, TV, to retire, oops.. i realized I forgot undies. Hehe. Needs me somea them, so, since there was no more room in the suitcase, a Piggly Wiggly bag would suffice.
Alarm set for 4am, with goal of on the road at 5am..(up at 4 to make coffee, have coffee, get the peepers wide, wide open, and yes, have 'constitution'. Sorry, everything in life ain't necessarily a bed of roses.)
Done, did, driving. I took goofy notes as I went about scenery, interesting signs, sites, with particular emphasis on the boring drive thru Kansas (a runnin' border battle with a lifelong buddy).. with the end game to be a goofy blog about it. One sign announced "Bazaar Cattle Pin" and it even had a 'Scenic Overlook": My, my, my. No, I was in a hurry, kinda, I didn't take the exit.
Long about Wichita, wouldn't you know it, the Checkenginelight "Reduced Engine Power" thingy lit up.. It deactivated my cruise control, so I had to really 'punch' the gas pedal to get it to roll at the prevailing speed. As I did this, I didn't notice the RPM gauge going ballistic. Soon, the bellowing smoke from behind blocked out the Wichita skyline. Oil a quart low. Had one, put it in. Let the car sit a tad, started, no smoke.
Drove a few miles, again no smoke, checked oil again, all ok. So... keep on keepin on. Thru the panhandle of Oklahoma,across the brief tip of Texas, reaching Tucumcari, New Mexico to finally Horace Greeley "Go West young man..go West."
Radio ad about Santa Rosa, NM being a nice, friendly town, so, I pulled over to check the oil as i had done thru KS, OK, and TX. Low. 2 quarts added. Drove a few more miles, crap, low again. Something obviously amiss.. I'd decided to drive to the next exit, turn around and get back to the friendly town of Santa Rosa to see a mechanic.
Then, boom. Smoke, smoke and more smoke bellowing out, completely wiping out the view of the tumbleweed in my rear view mirror. Pulled off to shoulder of I-40, oil not registering AT ALL, put on flashers.
Called Santa Rosa Police (non-emergency line) to see who they recommended for tow.. Gave me a name, number, but asked that I call back on 911 so they could get my exact location. Did. 31 mile tow back to Santa Rosa. Tow company also had a garage where they worked on cars, not to mention a special rate arrangement they had with Super 8, and, ultimately a ride up to their front door.
I really thought my car would make it fine.. but after I saw the flow of oil coming out when we dropped the car off made me think it was 'terminal.' In fact, by the next morning, I'd found a car to buy..friendly little town, the guy with the car for sale, picked me up at the Motel to see it, and he also dropped me off at the garage to hear of my car's terminal diagnosis.
By now, I knew in all likelihood, Spring Training wasn't happening, I got another night at the Super 8, and I sat in the garage awaiting the certain verbal "may your 2008 Grand Prix RIP" pronouncement be issued.
There, I met "Biscuit", the mascot dog of the Tow Shop/Car garage. Biscuit was about as tall as a footstool, and just about as wide. He wasn't, admittedly, pretty..but he was pretty cool. He had a bed to sleep in next to the floor heater..a food and water bowl on the other side.. as the day progressed, he'd go scratch at the door when he wanted out.. and also back in.
Meantime, he'd sit in the sun in the driveway of the garage and stare out at all the traffic, happenings going on around him on old Route 66.
The mechanic John, addressed me with "Sir" each time I spoke to him. I asked the older lady (probably 10 years younger than me!) "That John is nice, is he the owner?"... "He is a good dude, but no, I am the owner." Also learned Biscuit belonged to her, watched her go/come, and each time as she did, she called Biscuit, and he rode shotgun on every trip.
Gravy. This Biscuit had it made like gravy. Urban Dictionary,when defining gravy states "Mostly used in the context of good, great or delicious. It may also be used in the context of if something is without hassle or without problem." Biscuit's life was gravy. Made, in the shade...or, in the sun if he so preferred.
So, back to Victor. Oh woe is me, I envisioned batting practice going on, chalk lines, hopeful kids, shorts/T-shirt/shades and wolfing down a hot dog as I watched. By this time I had to make a call to cancel my reservations in Arizona or risk having $400 smackers taken out of my account for a hotel I would never see. Did cancel. Oh woe is me.
I'd talked to John, the mechanic, early morning, and he too thought my car was probably shot. Long about 11:30am, he came in and told me, "You know, I think your engine is fine, it's got a front right oil seal leak.. the part has been ordered, will be here within the hour.. we'll have you back on the road soon after."
During this wait, Biscuit made his way to the door, outside, back in, many, many times. Soon, those treks included a swing by the picnic table where I sat, for a little ear rubbing, petting, "smalltalk" and tail wagging (both of us!).. He was cool.
I was admittedly down, not out, but down. Biscuit including me in his traversing helped ease the fact I wouldn't see Whitt, Gordo, Mondi and a Yost of others.
Wondering how long this lady, the owner, had been spoiling Biscuit like crazy I asked "How old is Biscuit." "I'm not 100% sure.. if you've noticed, he goes with me everywhere. If I'm there, he's there. I've had him 10 years. You see, when I got him, it took almost 2 full years for him to develop complete trust in me. He's losing his two front teeth. Vet says it's because the previous owner must've kicked him."
Holy crap. Suddenly I felt a fool for worrying about missing the Royals/Dodgers game that day.
"Mostly used in the context of good, great or delicious. It may also be used in the context of if something without hassle or without problem." Biscuit's got it gravy, and damn I'm so very happy he does.
Once my car was finally fixed, I thanked, bid adieu to John, the owner lady, and of course to Biscuit. I lay in my bed at the Super 8 completely relaxed, fat and happy that night. The trip wasn't a complete home run, but i sure had fun rounding the bases, meeting people, seeing some pretty cool sites, wondering about the folks that lived in those small towns in the middle of nowhere.. and of course Biscuit.
Yes, Biscuit's got it gravy.. looks can really be deceiving sometimes.. life is hard, and bless those who never show that it is.. a huge lesson i learned for this bucket list of life.
Love and pets, Victurd
I had any, every thing packed and ready. I was once taught, when packing for a trip, get your clothes ready, then put half of them back in the drawer, "travel light" so to speak. So, that night, I had to damn near sit atop my suitcase to get it closed. Sorry, I am, always have been, hardheaded. Nuttin' wrong with having an extra shirt, pair of jeans, pair of shorts ready whenya need 'em.
Then, as I walked to turn off the lights, TV, to retire, oops.. i realized I forgot undies. Hehe. Needs me somea them, so, since there was no more room in the suitcase, a Piggly Wiggly bag would suffice.
Alarm set for 4am, with goal of on the road at 5am..(up at 4 to make coffee, have coffee, get the peepers wide, wide open, and yes, have 'constitution'. Sorry, everything in life ain't necessarily a bed of roses.)
Done, did, driving. I took goofy notes as I went about scenery, interesting signs, sites, with particular emphasis on the boring drive thru Kansas (a runnin' border battle with a lifelong buddy).. with the end game to be a goofy blog about it. One sign announced "Bazaar Cattle Pin" and it even had a 'Scenic Overlook": My, my, my. No, I was in a hurry, kinda, I didn't take the exit.
Long about Wichita, wouldn't you know it, the Checkenginelight "Reduced Engine Power" thingy lit up.. It deactivated my cruise control, so I had to really 'punch' the gas pedal to get it to roll at the prevailing speed. As I did this, I didn't notice the RPM gauge going ballistic. Soon, the bellowing smoke from behind blocked out the Wichita skyline. Oil a quart low. Had one, put it in. Let the car sit a tad, started, no smoke.
Drove a few miles, again no smoke, checked oil again, all ok. So... keep on keepin on. Thru the panhandle of Oklahoma,across the brief tip of Texas, reaching Tucumcari, New Mexico to finally Horace Greeley "Go West young man..go West."
Radio ad about Santa Rosa, NM being a nice, friendly town, so, I pulled over to check the oil as i had done thru KS, OK, and TX. Low. 2 quarts added. Drove a few more miles, crap, low again. Something obviously amiss.. I'd decided to drive to the next exit, turn around and get back to the friendly town of Santa Rosa to see a mechanic.
Then, boom. Smoke, smoke and more smoke bellowing out, completely wiping out the view of the tumbleweed in my rear view mirror. Pulled off to shoulder of I-40, oil not registering AT ALL, put on flashers.
Called Santa Rosa Police (non-emergency line) to see who they recommended for tow.. Gave me a name, number, but asked that I call back on 911 so they could get my exact location. Did. 31 mile tow back to Santa Rosa. Tow company also had a garage where they worked on cars, not to mention a special rate arrangement they had with Super 8, and, ultimately a ride up to their front door.
I really thought my car would make it fine.. but after I saw the flow of oil coming out when we dropped the car off made me think it was 'terminal.' In fact, by the next morning, I'd found a car to buy..friendly little town, the guy with the car for sale, picked me up at the Motel to see it, and he also dropped me off at the garage to hear of my car's terminal diagnosis.
By now, I knew in all likelihood, Spring Training wasn't happening, I got another night at the Super 8, and I sat in the garage awaiting the certain verbal "may your 2008 Grand Prix RIP" pronouncement be issued.
There, I met "Biscuit", the mascot dog of the Tow Shop/Car garage. Biscuit was about as tall as a footstool, and just about as wide. He wasn't, admittedly, pretty..but he was pretty cool. He had a bed to sleep in next to the floor heater..a food and water bowl on the other side.. as the day progressed, he'd go scratch at the door when he wanted out.. and also back in.
Meantime, he'd sit in the sun in the driveway of the garage and stare out at all the traffic, happenings going on around him on old Route 66.
The mechanic John, addressed me with "Sir" each time I spoke to him. I asked the older lady (probably 10 years younger than me!) "That John is nice, is he the owner?"... "He is a good dude, but no, I am the owner." Also learned Biscuit belonged to her, watched her go/come, and each time as she did, she called Biscuit, and he rode shotgun on every trip.
Gravy. This Biscuit had it made like gravy. Urban Dictionary,when defining gravy states "Mostly used in the context of good, great or delicious. It may also be used in the context of if something is without hassle or without problem." Biscuit's life was gravy. Made, in the shade...or, in the sun if he so preferred.
So, back to Victor. Oh woe is me, I envisioned batting practice going on, chalk lines, hopeful kids, shorts/T-shirt/shades and wolfing down a hot dog as I watched. By this time I had to make a call to cancel my reservations in Arizona or risk having $400 smackers taken out of my account for a hotel I would never see. Did cancel. Oh woe is me.
I'd talked to John, the mechanic, early morning, and he too thought my car was probably shot. Long about 11:30am, he came in and told me, "You know, I think your engine is fine, it's got a front right oil seal leak.. the part has been ordered, will be here within the hour.. we'll have you back on the road soon after."
During this wait, Biscuit made his way to the door, outside, back in, many, many times. Soon, those treks included a swing by the picnic table where I sat, for a little ear rubbing, petting, "smalltalk" and tail wagging (both of us!).. He was cool.
I was admittedly down, not out, but down. Biscuit including me in his traversing helped ease the fact I wouldn't see Whitt, Gordo, Mondi and a Yost of others.
Wondering how long this lady, the owner, had been spoiling Biscuit like crazy I asked "How old is Biscuit." "I'm not 100% sure.. if you've noticed, he goes with me everywhere. If I'm there, he's there. I've had him 10 years. You see, when I got him, it took almost 2 full years for him to develop complete trust in me. He's losing his two front teeth. Vet says it's because the previous owner must've kicked him."
Holy crap. Suddenly I felt a fool for worrying about missing the Royals/Dodgers game that day.
"Mostly used in the context of good, great or delicious. It may also be used in the context of if something without hassle or without problem." Biscuit's got it gravy, and damn I'm so very happy he does.
Once my car was finally fixed, I thanked, bid adieu to John, the owner lady, and of course to Biscuit. I lay in my bed at the Super 8 completely relaxed, fat and happy that night. The trip wasn't a complete home run, but i sure had fun rounding the bases, meeting people, seeing some pretty cool sites, wondering about the folks that lived in those small towns in the middle of nowhere.. and of course Biscuit.
Yes, Biscuit's got it gravy.. looks can really be deceiving sometimes.. life is hard, and bless those who never show that it is.. a huge lesson i learned for this bucket list of life.
Love and pets, Victurd
Friday, February 15, 2019
Invasion of The Home........
All the local TV weather forecasters predicted boo koo snow today beginning at 9am-ish, thus, I drove to get breakfast early, knowing I'd be in for the remainder of the day.
So here I am. Here we are. Stuck. We ain't got it as bad as Seattle (19" the last few days), but, I just peeked, it's 1:15pm and the snow is already a third of the way up the wheels of my car. I was reminded of Deliverance, and with apologies to Ned Beatty, "You ain't goin' no damn where!"...
Stuck. At. Home. This. Home. But, one day to be The Home.
One day, The Silent Generation will be mostly gone, only to be replaced in Homes across the land by beatniks, freaks, rebels, hippies, anarchists, counterculture dudes/dudettes, yuppies.
Ruh roh.
We do hereby promise to..........
Protest, eh, simply for the sake of protest. For instance, liver and onion night in the dining hall - we can meet in the activity room, walk out in unison chanting "Hell no we won't go!"..........
And whilst we're in the activity room, we grab every bingo ball, Yahtzee shaker, knitting needle, rug hook, sewing kit, crochet thingy, shuffleboard stick and RUN with them to the dumpster out back. Then,
We march to the Nursing Home Activity Director behind a leader we've picked, harmoniously singing "People try to put us down........talkin' bout my generation"........ and we request a very large laundry basket full of Frisbees. And another for yard darts. And a HUGE box fulla (already inflated) Beach Balls, a hunnerd paint by numbers lava lamps, and 40 yoga mats. Oh, and ya got 30 days to build a Frisbee golf course out back, thanks.
We gather up all the duds our sons, daughters, etc., have packed for us to wear.. then we all jump in Willie's car.. (Willie is onea the few that can still drive... when it's icy out, we all sing "Willie go round in circles").. We run by Goodwill, dump the duds our kids bought us, then go and buy the most yummy, colorful, bellbottom blues, flowery fineries we can buy... to return to fill up our drawers. No bras allowed, and socks will only be worn on Sundays (and to sock hops.)
It's Saturday, and the Landscaping crew only works Monday thru Friday, so we jot a note of "I'm sorry" on their door, then proceed to the gardens outside, for everyone to pick, and "be sure to wear a flower in your hair."
All across the nation...such a strange vibration... people in motion.. There's a whole generation... with a new explanation.. people in motion.. people in motion.......... to,
The Music Director's Office. "Hi, we're the new residents and we're here to grab and burn every Benny Goodman, Duke Ellington, Glen Miller, Count Basie tape, record, CD you got." Upon further review:
Sock hops.. Ok damnit, call 'em sock shuffles if you like. We've brought you some music... we'd like:
On Mondays, we wanna hear Dylan, Seeger, Guthrie, Baez, Peter Paul and Mary kinda stuff...
British Invasion on Tuesday nights.......
(Wednesdays, we'll just gather in the Activity room to smoke pot so we'll pick our own music there, thanks)
Thursday, Motown baby.. LOUD
Friday is any/every one that played at Woodstock.. you know, Richie Havens, Rani Shankar, Country Joe, Santana, Canned Heat, Gratefule Dead, Sly, The Who to name a few...
Saturday nights, we want you to provide a driver for The Home Bus (if it'll still start) to take us all the the "Wish You Were Beer" bar.
Sunday, we'll rest. Instrumental music only please.
Oops, forgot. Back the Director's office. "Sir (or Ma'am, dependent on your Home) if you will remember, we're kinda known for... ahem.. the sexual revolution, free love..make love not war... SO.. That present 10pm bed check you got every night? Toss that sucker and change it to 10am, that'll give us time to... well.. we'll be back in our own rooms."
"Oh, and that barber shop/beauty salon on the first floor? You can close that sucker up, that's gonna be the tie-die room.. besides, who need haircuts? Also, the gals are tremendously adept at braids, Afros, flowery 'do's.."
"And... you've got a lot of really nice pictures on the walls.. you know, rivers, streams, country roads, yada.. we'd likeya to take down at least half of 'em though.. and replace 'em with pics of Martin Luther King, Mahatma Gandhi, Malcolm X, Mother Teresa.. .and Jimi, we gotta have one of Jimi."
Stuck. At. Home. This. Home. But, one day to be The Home.
Maybe it won't be so bad after all.
By Henry O'Leary Gibson,
Love, Victurd
So here I am. Here we are. Stuck. We ain't got it as bad as Seattle (19" the last few days), but, I just peeked, it's 1:15pm and the snow is already a third of the way up the wheels of my car. I was reminded of Deliverance, and with apologies to Ned Beatty, "You ain't goin' no damn where!"...
Stuck. At. Home. This. Home. But, one day to be The Home.
One day, The Silent Generation will be mostly gone, only to be replaced in Homes across the land by beatniks, freaks, rebels, hippies, anarchists, counterculture dudes/dudettes, yuppies.
Ruh roh.
We do hereby promise to..........
Protest, eh, simply for the sake of protest. For instance, liver and onion night in the dining hall - we can meet in the activity room, walk out in unison chanting "Hell no we won't go!"..........
And whilst we're in the activity room, we grab every bingo ball, Yahtzee shaker, knitting needle, rug hook, sewing kit, crochet thingy, shuffleboard stick and RUN with them to the dumpster out back. Then,
We march to the Nursing Home Activity Director behind a leader we've picked, harmoniously singing "People try to put us down........talkin' bout my generation"........ and we request a very large laundry basket full of Frisbees. And another for yard darts. And a HUGE box fulla (already inflated) Beach Balls, a hunnerd paint by numbers lava lamps, and 40 yoga mats. Oh, and ya got 30 days to build a Frisbee golf course out back, thanks.
We gather up all the duds our sons, daughters, etc., have packed for us to wear.. then we all jump in Willie's car.. (Willie is onea the few that can still drive... when it's icy out, we all sing "Willie go round in circles").. We run by Goodwill, dump the duds our kids bought us, then go and buy the most yummy, colorful, bellbottom blues, flowery fineries we can buy... to return to fill up our drawers. No bras allowed, and socks will only be worn on Sundays (and to sock hops.)
It's Saturday, and the Landscaping crew only works Monday thru Friday, so we jot a note of "I'm sorry" on their door, then proceed to the gardens outside, for everyone to pick, and "be sure to wear a flower in your hair."
All across the nation...such a strange vibration... people in motion.. There's a whole generation... with a new explanation.. people in motion.. people in motion.......... to,
The Music Director's Office. "Hi, we're the new residents and we're here to grab and burn every Benny Goodman, Duke Ellington, Glen Miller, Count Basie tape, record, CD you got." Upon further review:
Sock hops.. Ok damnit, call 'em sock shuffles if you like. We've brought you some music... we'd like:
On Mondays, we wanna hear Dylan, Seeger, Guthrie, Baez, Peter Paul and Mary kinda stuff...
British Invasion on Tuesday nights.......
(Wednesdays, we'll just gather in the Activity room to smoke pot so we'll pick our own music there, thanks)
Thursday, Motown baby.. LOUD
Friday is any/every one that played at Woodstock.. you know, Richie Havens, Rani Shankar, Country Joe, Santana, Canned Heat, Gratefule Dead, Sly, The Who to name a few...
Saturday nights, we want you to provide a driver for The Home Bus (if it'll still start) to take us all the the "Wish You Were Beer" bar.
Sunday, we'll rest. Instrumental music only please.
Oops, forgot. Back the Director's office. "Sir (or Ma'am, dependent on your Home) if you will remember, we're kinda known for... ahem.. the sexual revolution, free love..make love not war... SO.. That present 10pm bed check you got every night? Toss that sucker and change it to 10am, that'll give us time to... well.. we'll be back in our own rooms."
"Oh, and that barber shop/beauty salon on the first floor? You can close that sucker up, that's gonna be the tie-die room.. besides, who need haircuts? Also, the gals are tremendously adept at braids, Afros, flowery 'do's.."
"And... you've got a lot of really nice pictures on the walls.. you know, rivers, streams, country roads, yada.. we'd likeya to take down at least half of 'em though.. and replace 'em with pics of Martin Luther King, Mahatma Gandhi, Malcolm X, Mother Teresa.. .and Jimi, we gotta have one of Jimi."
Stuck. At. Home. This. Home. But, one day to be The Home.
Maybe it won't be so bad after all.
By Henry O'Leary Gibson,
Love, Victurd
Wednesday, February 13, 2019
Patty Gross........
I believe it was Percy Sledge who sang "When a man loves a woman, can't keep his mind on nothin' else."
I no can speaky for other men, but I tend to believe this to be true.
2/13/19. Happy Valentine's Day Eve... Valentine's Day is a wondrous day, and the first thought it brings is happy.
I am certain there's more than one way to skin a cat (good grief, HOW and WHY did that saying start, and I ain't gonna Google it, but hopefully you get the drift.).. and, for sure, probably more than one version as to how Valentine's Day started..
One version, was about a priest (St. Valentine) from Rome in the 3rd century AD. Emperor Claudius had banned marriage because he thought married men were bad soldiers. Valentine felt this was unfair, so he broke the rules and arranged marriages in secret.
When Claudius found out, Valentine was thrown in jail and sentenced to death. There, he fell in love with the jailer's daughter and when he was taken to be killed on February 14 he sent her a love letter signed "from your Valentine."
We get one chance here on Earth, and much like the very best Center Fielder EVER, the ball can be dropped. Peek around, there are wonderful examples of couples who never dropped the ball. I love Facebook for this very reason. At the risk of embarrassment, I see/sense this in Jim/Marcie, Dennis/Patty..etc (both, alphabetically done!) and thankfully, scores more... You can just tell. That love and excitement is just as great today as the very day it started.
But.. hold the phone.. stymie halt... time out.... or... maybe rationalization.
I also have friends who tripped on the crack of the sidewalk of life...a few of us, maybe even more than once... thought it was over, never to be again, a dead end. Then, presto, love found, and it's undoubtedly better than ever before. Women have a way of making one feel better than ever.
We men. We love you. We stare at you when you ain't lookin. We delight in the tone of your voice (99% of the time!).. We love the way you walk.. whatever you wear, or don't... when your eyes are focused on something else.. when they are focused on your man. Excited. Anxious. Thankful. Better'n puppy breath, a cold beer after a hunnerd degree day at work, any basketball/football/hunting/fishing/younameit, outing. Oh sure, those are wonderful, but there ain't nuttin' better'n loving a woman.
You give us fed bellies... wrinkle causing smiles..."why didn't I think of that"s... The very best two words in this marathon of life ain't "Mile 26," They're "Oh baby."
Baby = wow.
Baby = now.
Baby = Thank you Lord.
Baby = yum.
Baby = This ain't humdrum.
Baby = exclamation mark, head-over-heels, dizzy, delirious in love.
We will NEVER EVER, I'm talking till until the end of time admit, women rule the world. But.. WOMEN RULE THE WORLD.
Watch a good man. There's a fine lady behind him propping him up. Putting pep in his step. Making him gobbledy googly happy.
We are your forever wind-up toy. Let's chase each other 'round the room tonight. And play, those games we played, on our wedding night. To lock and bolt the door is only right. Let's chase each other 'round the room tonight.
v2.Ek = 1/2 mv2. Ek = Kinetic Energy. Nuh uh, it's you. Woman.
Chantilly lace and a pretty face, and a pony tail a hangin' down, that wiggle in the walk and giggle in the talk, makes the world go round, there ain't nuttin' in the world like a big eyed girl that makes me act so funny makes me spin my money, makes me feel real loose like a long necked good, like a girl, OH BABY that's what I like....... Or, what we men like.
You see that world's strongest body builder? Behind (or beside) him is a lady who can control him by his little finger. (And I mean control in a very good way.) That CEO over there? He owns 49% of the stock at home.
You are the F of our fuel gauge, the D for our transmission, the smile in our rear view mirror, and the excitement of "what's next" as we look out of the windshield. You possess the ability to put us into overdrive. Putt putt, to the Pizza Hut, or wherever it is you wanna go.
Thank heaven for little girls
Thank heaven for them all
No matter where,
No matter who
Without them
What would little boys do...
Across the land, little dudes that have only been talking for a few years, will open up the box of Valentine cards to take to school to hand out tomorrow. There's always "THAT ONE" special one. Yep. Silently, they will address it to you-know-who. The very beginning of googly, dizzy, lost in love, oh baby.
Mine in kindergarten was Patty Gross. Yours?
The old TV show Mission Impossible began with the quote, the story, the juxt of the mission, and it ended with "This message will self destruct in five seconds." One would think I'd be afraid, very afraid to write a blog like this for fear of other men calling me a pansy, or similar. Nope. Ain't. They know it too. Women rule the world.
By Henry Hallmark Gibson,
Love, Victurd
I no can speaky for other men, but I tend to believe this to be true.
2/13/19. Happy Valentine's Day Eve... Valentine's Day is a wondrous day, and the first thought it brings is happy.
I am certain there's more than one way to skin a cat (good grief, HOW and WHY did that saying start, and I ain't gonna Google it, but hopefully you get the drift.).. and, for sure, probably more than one version as to how Valentine's Day started..
One version, was about a priest (St. Valentine) from Rome in the 3rd century AD. Emperor Claudius had banned marriage because he thought married men were bad soldiers. Valentine felt this was unfair, so he broke the rules and arranged marriages in secret.
When Claudius found out, Valentine was thrown in jail and sentenced to death. There, he fell in love with the jailer's daughter and when he was taken to be killed on February 14 he sent her a love letter signed "from your Valentine."
We get one chance here on Earth, and much like the very best Center Fielder EVER, the ball can be dropped. Peek around, there are wonderful examples of couples who never dropped the ball. I love Facebook for this very reason. At the risk of embarrassment, I see/sense this in Jim/Marcie, Dennis/Patty..etc (both, alphabetically done!) and thankfully, scores more... You can just tell. That love and excitement is just as great today as the very day it started.
But.. hold the phone.. stymie halt... time out.... or... maybe rationalization.
I also have friends who tripped on the crack of the sidewalk of life...a few of us, maybe even more than once... thought it was over, never to be again, a dead end. Then, presto, love found, and it's undoubtedly better than ever before. Women have a way of making one feel better than ever.
We men. We love you. We stare at you when you ain't lookin. We delight in the tone of your voice (99% of the time!).. We love the way you walk.. whatever you wear, or don't... when your eyes are focused on something else.. when they are focused on your man. Excited. Anxious. Thankful. Better'n puppy breath, a cold beer after a hunnerd degree day at work, any basketball/football/hunting/fishing/younameit, outing. Oh sure, those are wonderful, but there ain't nuttin' better'n loving a woman.
You give us fed bellies... wrinkle causing smiles..."why didn't I think of that"s... The very best two words in this marathon of life ain't "Mile 26," They're "Oh baby."
Baby = wow.
Baby = now.
Baby = Thank you Lord.
Baby = yum.
Baby = This ain't humdrum.
Baby = exclamation mark, head-over-heels, dizzy, delirious in love.
We will NEVER EVER, I'm talking till until the end of time admit, women rule the world. But.. WOMEN RULE THE WORLD.
Watch a good man. There's a fine lady behind him propping him up. Putting pep in his step. Making him gobbledy googly happy.
We are your forever wind-up toy. Let's chase each other 'round the room tonight. And play, those games we played, on our wedding night. To lock and bolt the door is only right. Let's chase each other 'round the room tonight.
v2.Ek = 1/2 mv2. Ek = Kinetic Energy. Nuh uh, it's you. Woman.
Chantilly lace and a pretty face, and a pony tail a hangin' down, that wiggle in the walk and giggle in the talk, makes the world go round, there ain't nuttin' in the world like a big eyed girl that makes me act so funny makes me spin my money, makes me feel real loose like a long necked good, like a girl, OH BABY that's what I like....... Or, what we men like.
You see that world's strongest body builder? Behind (or beside) him is a lady who can control him by his little finger. (And I mean control in a very good way.) That CEO over there? He owns 49% of the stock at home.
You are the F of our fuel gauge, the D for our transmission, the smile in our rear view mirror, and the excitement of "what's next" as we look out of the windshield. You possess the ability to put us into overdrive. Putt putt, to the Pizza Hut, or wherever it is you wanna go.
Thank heaven for little girls
Thank heaven for them all
No matter where,
No matter who
Without them
What would little boys do...
Across the land, little dudes that have only been talking for a few years, will open up the box of Valentine cards to take to school to hand out tomorrow. There's always "THAT ONE" special one. Yep. Silently, they will address it to you-know-who. The very beginning of googly, dizzy, lost in love, oh baby.
Mine in kindergarten was Patty Gross. Yours?
The old TV show Mission Impossible began with the quote, the story, the juxt of the mission, and it ended with "This message will self destruct in five seconds." One would think I'd be afraid, very afraid to write a blog like this for fear of other men calling me a pansy, or similar. Nope. Ain't. They know it too. Women rule the world.
By Henry Hallmark Gibson,
Love, Victurd
Saturday, February 09, 2019
Don't quote me...........
Because if you do (share a quote) you're likely stuck with another blog, because I love quotes. Women keep running off, so I've determined to heed all attention to quotes.. I love 'em. They look lovely whether or not they're dressed with --> ", or, dressed with --> '.
This morning, nifty article in the Kansas City Star about Jackie Robinson's daughter Sharon, and her recent visit to Kansas City. It's Black History Month, in addition to it being a year-long celebration of her father's 100th birthday.
She visited the new KC Urban Youth Academy, and for one proud Kansas City-ite moment, I will tell you it's a fabulous facility, four outdoor turf baseball fields, a 30,000 square foot indoor facility that includes a turf infield, four batting cages, four classrooms and a training room - all, exclusively funded by donations. The juxt is to get urban youth back into baseball - so maybe one day another Jackie just might come along (and of course to mentor the many thousands who come along.)
Sharon had recently visited another baseball legend, Frank Robinson just days before he passed away Thursday at the age of 83. Frank was a wonderful baseball player, wonderful man, and also so happened to be the first black manager in the Major Leagues... Jackie, two weeks before he passed in 1972, had bemoaned the fact there were no black managers... Three years later, Frank became the first.
Victor, you mentioned a quote... hop to it.
You're correct, I did. Sharon said of Frank's passing:
"It's a hard loss... He was still a relatively young man (83)..My mom is 96, so I think anybody still in their 80's is young. He accomplished so much in his lifetime, and that's what we look at. IT'S NOT ABOUT HOW LONG ANYONE LIVES. IT'S THE FACT THEY WERE WITH US AND WE ARE BETTER PEOPLE FOR HAVING HAD HIM WITH US ALL THESE YEARS."
That's the quote. That's the one you, me, many may take to the bank with us when we've lost a loved one, an admired one, a great one - much too early, or actually any time death appears. IT'S THE FACT THEY WERE WITH US AND WE ARE BETTER PEOPLE FOR HAVING HAD HIM (THEM) WITH US.
"No legacy is so rich as honesty." William Shakespeare
"I want my legacy to be that I was a great son, father and friend." Dante Hall
Strangely, I both cry and smile at funerals of good folks. The tears are for the loss of the good person that they were, and the smile is for the same thing, that they were a good person - and we're left to remember, thank them for that.
"Those who know me know I'm passionate about lists, and the top of my priorities is my family. My wife Joan and I do not consider our legacy to our children to be wealth or fame, but the opportunity to pursue happiness by following their own path." Richard Branson
Branson is on Time Magazine's list of 100 Most Influential People in the World, and has a personal net worth of $5.1 billion.
Legends come from all walks, and it's for certain we all have our own legends, legacies, quotes. Mr. Branson's rang true with me. My folks didn't have riches in the monetary sense, but they shared the same wish for my sister and I of "the opportunity to pursue happiness by following their own path."
"IT'S NOT ABOUT HOW LONG ANYONE LIVES. IT'S THE FACT THEY WERE WITH US AND WE ARE BETTER PEOPLE FOR HAVING HAD THEM WITH US ALL THESE YEARS."
A smile and a tear,
Love, Victurd
This morning, nifty article in the Kansas City Star about Jackie Robinson's daughter Sharon, and her recent visit to Kansas City. It's Black History Month, in addition to it being a year-long celebration of her father's 100th birthday.
She visited the new KC Urban Youth Academy, and for one proud Kansas City-ite moment, I will tell you it's a fabulous facility, four outdoor turf baseball fields, a 30,000 square foot indoor facility that includes a turf infield, four batting cages, four classrooms and a training room - all, exclusively funded by donations. The juxt is to get urban youth back into baseball - so maybe one day another Jackie just might come along (and of course to mentor the many thousands who come along.)
Sharon had recently visited another baseball legend, Frank Robinson just days before he passed away Thursday at the age of 83. Frank was a wonderful baseball player, wonderful man, and also so happened to be the first black manager in the Major Leagues... Jackie, two weeks before he passed in 1972, had bemoaned the fact there were no black managers... Three years later, Frank became the first.
Victor, you mentioned a quote... hop to it.
You're correct, I did. Sharon said of Frank's passing:
"It's a hard loss... He was still a relatively young man (83)..My mom is 96, so I think anybody still in their 80's is young. He accomplished so much in his lifetime, and that's what we look at. IT'S NOT ABOUT HOW LONG ANYONE LIVES. IT'S THE FACT THEY WERE WITH US AND WE ARE BETTER PEOPLE FOR HAVING HAD HIM WITH US ALL THESE YEARS."
That's the quote. That's the one you, me, many may take to the bank with us when we've lost a loved one, an admired one, a great one - much too early, or actually any time death appears. IT'S THE FACT THEY WERE WITH US AND WE ARE BETTER PEOPLE FOR HAVING HAD HIM (THEM) WITH US.
"No legacy is so rich as honesty." William Shakespeare
"I want my legacy to be that I was a great son, father and friend." Dante Hall
Strangely, I both cry and smile at funerals of good folks. The tears are for the loss of the good person that they were, and the smile is for the same thing, that they were a good person - and we're left to remember, thank them for that.
"Those who know me know I'm passionate about lists, and the top of my priorities is my family. My wife Joan and I do not consider our legacy to our children to be wealth or fame, but the opportunity to pursue happiness by following their own path." Richard Branson
Branson is on Time Magazine's list of 100 Most Influential People in the World, and has a personal net worth of $5.1 billion.
Legends come from all walks, and it's for certain we all have our own legends, legacies, quotes. Mr. Branson's rang true with me. My folks didn't have riches in the monetary sense, but they shared the same wish for my sister and I of "the opportunity to pursue happiness by following their own path."
"IT'S NOT ABOUT HOW LONG ANYONE LIVES. IT'S THE FACT THEY WERE WITH US AND WE ARE BETTER PEOPLE FOR HAVING HAD THEM WITH US ALL THESE YEARS."
A smile and a tear,
Love, Victurd
Friday, February 08, 2019
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in....
Besides the songwriter, who really knows the meaning, intent of a song. This one was written by Country Music Star Mickey Newbury...
A few clicks around Google tells me:
A) this was about an acid trip...
B) remember the dream sequence in The Big Lebowski? It's about a middle-aged alcoholic who, one day experiences an acid flashback and when he is between trips he "drops in" to make sure everything was alright."
C) Obviously about Vietnam...
or
D) Written by Newbury in attempt to dissuade young people from experimenting with LSD. Newbury tried to get his message across in a non-preachy way by summing up an addict's life in the grimmest way possible while still being subtle.
Jerry Lee Lewis turned down the song, Kenny Rogers and his new group The First Edition fetched it up, decided it would make a good psychedelic song, filling the musical tracks with every psychedelic-rock cliché they could think of, turning the anti-drug ditty into a drug anthem. Obviously, the song did well for Kenny and the Edition's success for many a year.
About all of the above, conjecture, as in, who knows.
Much the same today regarding our State of the Union. Who knows?
Everything is "Yeah but" today. Look at what he's done for the economy, lowering taxes, creating fair trade. He's a racist, our enemies now love us and our allies hate us. Just watch the good and stop listening to CNN. Yeah but, the Mueller thing and all the guilty parties that are connected. Not a thing has been proved, it's a witch hunt, presidential harassment. Show us the taxes then, and why "stop the investigation" if ya ain't got nuttin' to worry about. Well, NEVER, has a President of the United States been treated like this. They're illegals. Yeah but, no they're not, they're seeking asylum. Yeah but, how can we help them when we've got homeless vets?
They wore white and wouldn't stand up. Yeah but, reminded me of a Catholic Mass all the up and down. Did you see her face behind him, disgusting? Yeah but, do you remember Paul Ryan behind Obama?
I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole and then I followed it in
I watched myself crawlin' out as I was a-crawlin' in
I got up so tight I couldn't unwind
I saw so much I broke my mind
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
I go about daily. I see smiling faces. The old group of guys still fill up the chairs at the Piggly Wiggly to discuss this 'n that, seemingly amenably. I hold doors for people, people hold doors for me, and I/we have no idea if left/right. My buddies and I, still great fun. If someone brings up politics, all we gotta do is say "How bout those Chiefs" and all is again, good. (Or maybe now, Royals.)
Then we get home, turn on the news.. scroll thru Facebook.
Someone painted "April Fool" in big black letters on a "Dead End" sign
I had my foot on the gas as I left the road and blew out my mind
Eight miles outta Memphis and I got no spare
Eight miles straight up downtown somewhere
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in.
As happens, I got hungry this morning. I have a big belly and an empty smoothie blender staring at me, with a nifty bowl of all kindsa good, healthy things inside it, to add a little low fat milk to for a yummy smoothie. Yeah but, I'm outta coffee, I'll just eat (a horribly calorific) breakfast at HyVee when I go to grab coffee, I'm out.
Discussion with friendly waitress.. "Any trips lined up?".. "Well, we've got some friends in Phoenix..awhile back they bought this really cool, really secluded place in the Phoenix Mountains. We may go see them. They're really social people, and since they moved, he couldn't take it, so they also got an apartment in Phoenix so they go back (yeah but) and forth (yeah but.)"
Yeah but, maybe I'm naïve. I still believe in the good of man. Gulp, all men. Gimme cable with the Fox Sports for the Royals, an easy chair, and the chalet in the Mountains. You can have CNN, Fox, Facebook, Google song interpreters, left, right, Don, Nancy, lifelong friends screaming with their keyboards at the top of their lungs (yes, periodically guilty).. that stuff. Gooey. Yucky. Ewwy.
Yeah but, it's the way... today.
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in....
And then I crawled back out and lived happily ever after, my own personal, groovy, State of The Union. Maybe Punxsutawney is on to something, as in "Now..leave me the hell alone for a year wouldya?"....
By Henry Yeah But Gibson,
Love, Victurd
A few clicks around Google tells me:
A) this was about an acid trip...
B) remember the dream sequence in The Big Lebowski? It's about a middle-aged alcoholic who, one day experiences an acid flashback and when he is between trips he "drops in" to make sure everything was alright."
C) Obviously about Vietnam...
or
D) Written by Newbury in attempt to dissuade young people from experimenting with LSD. Newbury tried to get his message across in a non-preachy way by summing up an addict's life in the grimmest way possible while still being subtle.
Jerry Lee Lewis turned down the song, Kenny Rogers and his new group The First Edition fetched it up, decided it would make a good psychedelic song, filling the musical tracks with every psychedelic-rock cliché they could think of, turning the anti-drug ditty into a drug anthem. Obviously, the song did well for Kenny and the Edition's success for many a year.
About all of the above, conjecture, as in, who knows.
Much the same today regarding our State of the Union. Who knows?
Everything is "Yeah but" today. Look at what he's done for the economy, lowering taxes, creating fair trade. He's a racist, our enemies now love us and our allies hate us. Just watch the good and stop listening to CNN. Yeah but, the Mueller thing and all the guilty parties that are connected. Not a thing has been proved, it's a witch hunt, presidential harassment. Show us the taxes then, and why "stop the investigation" if ya ain't got nuttin' to worry about. Well, NEVER, has a President of the United States been treated like this. They're illegals. Yeah but, no they're not, they're seeking asylum. Yeah but, how can we help them when we've got homeless vets?
They wore white and wouldn't stand up. Yeah but, reminded me of a Catholic Mass all the up and down. Did you see her face behind him, disgusting? Yeah but, do you remember Paul Ryan behind Obama?
I pushed my soul in a deep dark hole and then I followed it in
I watched myself crawlin' out as I was a-crawlin' in
I got up so tight I couldn't unwind
I saw so much I broke my mind
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in
I go about daily. I see smiling faces. The old group of guys still fill up the chairs at the Piggly Wiggly to discuss this 'n that, seemingly amenably. I hold doors for people, people hold doors for me, and I/we have no idea if left/right. My buddies and I, still great fun. If someone brings up politics, all we gotta do is say "How bout those Chiefs" and all is again, good. (Or maybe now, Royals.)
Then we get home, turn on the news.. scroll thru Facebook.
Someone painted "April Fool" in big black letters on a "Dead End" sign
I had my foot on the gas as I left the road and blew out my mind
Eight miles outta Memphis and I got no spare
Eight miles straight up downtown somewhere
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in.
As happens, I got hungry this morning. I have a big belly and an empty smoothie blender staring at me, with a nifty bowl of all kindsa good, healthy things inside it, to add a little low fat milk to for a yummy smoothie. Yeah but, I'm outta coffee, I'll just eat (a horribly calorific) breakfast at HyVee when I go to grab coffee, I'm out.
Discussion with friendly waitress.. "Any trips lined up?".. "Well, we've got some friends in Phoenix..awhile back they bought this really cool, really secluded place in the Phoenix Mountains. We may go see them. They're really social people, and since they moved, he couldn't take it, so they also got an apartment in Phoenix so they go back (yeah but) and forth (yeah but.)"
Yeah but, maybe I'm naïve. I still believe in the good of man. Gulp, all men. Gimme cable with the Fox Sports for the Royals, an easy chair, and the chalet in the Mountains. You can have CNN, Fox, Facebook, Google song interpreters, left, right, Don, Nancy, lifelong friends screaming with their keyboards at the top of their lungs (yes, periodically guilty).. that stuff. Gooey. Yucky. Ewwy.
Yeah but, it's the way... today.
I just dropped in to see what condition my condition was in....
And then I crawled back out and lived happily ever after, my own personal, groovy, State of The Union. Maybe Punxsutawney is on to something, as in "Now..leave me the hell alone for a year wouldya?"....
By Henry Yeah But Gibson,
Love, Victurd
Thursday, February 07, 2019
But it's been no bed of roses....
That of course is a line from "We are the Champions" by Queen/Freddie Mercury.
The "idioms, the free dictionary" let's me know 'a bed of roses' is 'an easy, comfortable situation.'
As in... after John complained about his long, tiring day at work, his father turned to him and said "You didn't think your new job in construction was going to be a bed of roses did you?"
I'd always heard roses were a pain in the ying yang to grow. Also, thorny. Sure, beautiful, but it don't necessarily sound like 'an easy, comfortbale situation.'
"I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in bed, but fine up against the wall." Eleanor Roosevelt
I fall in love too easily. You? I just Googled "Eleanor Roosevelt sense of humor" and was amazed by it (her humor.)
So...... "Stymie halt." My sister, whom I loved like crazy, used to say that (stymie halt) to get under my skin. We'd be mid-whiffle ball game (intense, REAL important stuff), she'd come out the front door and shout "Stymie halt". Most of the time for no known reason, other than to get under my skin. I'd give anything to see her, hear her do that today. So, mebbe she too was like Eleanor.
This blog was gonna be about the ups and downs of life, but then I fell in love with Eleanor (and in a way, I guess it still kinda sorta IS about the ups/downs.) So, 'stymie halt' so to speak. S'more'a her:
"You wouldn't worry so much about what others think of you if you realized how seldom they do." Eleanor. Holy guacamole Eleanor, why didn't you learn me that eons ago? All these damn wrinkles, me thinks some wouldn't be there!
"Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people." Eleanor. Very true ma' lady, but sometimes it's fun to discuss people! Just kidding, kinda. Which leads me to the thought (Victor, DON'T say it), which leads me to the thought (ha) do you have that one friend who almost always talks (down) other people? Me too! In fact, I'd bet if I/we weren't there listening, they might throw us TOO in that bed of roses. Quick, zap 'em with the Roundup!
"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." Eleanor. Wow. No wonder Franklin loved her. Franklin D served FOUR terms as President (Victor, I knew that.. I DIDN'T).. thus, she is the longest serving First Lady of the United States. Harry S for nothing Truman called her "The First Lady of the World."
"If life were predictable, it would cease to be life and be without flavor." Eleanor. Wowzer, agreed. I love curveballs, coming outta left field, not to mention Missouri weather. Right on Big E.
"Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art." Eleanor. Uh huh, grandma's hands. Seeing inspirational stories of long-term marrieds and their devotion. It is artlike.
"Friendship with oneself is all-important, because without it, one cannot be friends with anyone else in the world." Eleanor. Anudder I wished I'd learned long ago. I am human, hear me roar, don't get mad, just because I snore. Or, we had to put peanut butter on his leg for the dog to play with him. Hehe. Sorry. I hate "LOL" and damned if I didn't go and do it myself. (I am my friend though)..
"The giving of love is an education in itself." Eleanor... Copying what the website wrote "Giving of love does not always mean you will receive it back. ER learned this the hard way just like the rest of us. She gave love to her parents who were not always the best parents. She gave love to FDR, who indeed did love her, but probably not the way she anticipated when they married. She showed love to all humanity and was often criticized for it." (S'more....)
"BUT, she also knew this: The more you give love the more you learn how to direct it to where it's needed and in what measure. In return, it will flow back to you tenfold from unexpected places at unexpected times." Nice... real nice Eleanor...
"Do what you feel in your heart to be right, for you'll be criticized for anyway." Eleanor.. and this... this before the days of social media, everyone knows, everyone hears. Wise. Wise lady she was.
Rick Huggins wrote the article on her quotes. He's a much better writer than I, so just gonna copy the ending of what he said - and he said it right after that last quote:
"Damned if you do, damned if you don't. So you might as well be damned if you DID. Eleanor Roosevelt was criticized for a lot of stuff - for being a woman who wanted to assert herself, for helping people nobody else wanted to help, for challenging people to change their outdated beliefs, for being a 'goodie goodie' and so on.....
And surely, the criticism hurt at times, but it didn't stop her. Nor should it you. Make it a point to NOT give a damn what everybody else thinks. Whatever you're striving for, remember that the only voice that matters is the one inside of you." Far out Rick. Far out Eleanor.
I wonder if Eleanor planted the first bed of roses in the Rose Garden at the White House. Certain it was 'an easy, comfortable situation.' And if it wasn't, I bet she trudged on no matter how thorny things got.
Eleanor, was a champion, my friend, and she kept on fighting to the end.
Love, Victurd
The "idioms, the free dictionary" let's me know 'a bed of roses' is 'an easy, comfortable situation.'
As in... after John complained about his long, tiring day at work, his father turned to him and said "You didn't think your new job in construction was going to be a bed of roses did you?"
I'd always heard roses were a pain in the ying yang to grow. Also, thorny. Sure, beautiful, but it don't necessarily sound like 'an easy, comfortbale situation.'
"I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in bed, but fine up against the wall." Eleanor Roosevelt
I fall in love too easily. You? I just Googled "Eleanor Roosevelt sense of humor" and was amazed by it (her humor.)
So...... "Stymie halt." My sister, whom I loved like crazy, used to say that (stymie halt) to get under my skin. We'd be mid-whiffle ball game (intense, REAL important stuff), she'd come out the front door and shout "Stymie halt". Most of the time for no known reason, other than to get under my skin. I'd give anything to see her, hear her do that today. So, mebbe she too was like Eleanor.
This blog was gonna be about the ups and downs of life, but then I fell in love with Eleanor (and in a way, I guess it still kinda sorta IS about the ups/downs.) So, 'stymie halt' so to speak. S'more'a her:
"You wouldn't worry so much about what others think of you if you realized how seldom they do." Eleanor. Holy guacamole Eleanor, why didn't you learn me that eons ago? All these damn wrinkles, me thinks some wouldn't be there!
"Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people." Eleanor. Very true ma' lady, but sometimes it's fun to discuss people! Just kidding, kinda. Which leads me to the thought (Victor, DON'T say it), which leads me to the thought (ha) do you have that one friend who almost always talks (down) other people? Me too! In fact, I'd bet if I/we weren't there listening, they might throw us TOO in that bed of roses. Quick, zap 'em with the Roundup!
"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent." Eleanor. Wow. No wonder Franklin loved her. Franklin D served FOUR terms as President (Victor, I knew that.. I DIDN'T).. thus, she is the longest serving First Lady of the United States. Harry S for nothing Truman called her "The First Lady of the World."
"If life were predictable, it would cease to be life and be without flavor." Eleanor. Wowzer, agreed. I love curveballs, coming outta left field, not to mention Missouri weather. Right on Big E.
"Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art." Eleanor. Uh huh, grandma's hands. Seeing inspirational stories of long-term marrieds and their devotion. It is artlike.
"Friendship with oneself is all-important, because without it, one cannot be friends with anyone else in the world." Eleanor. Anudder I wished I'd learned long ago. I am human, hear me roar, don't get mad, just because I snore. Or, we had to put peanut butter on his leg for the dog to play with him. Hehe. Sorry. I hate "LOL" and damned if I didn't go and do it myself. (I am my friend though)..
"The giving of love is an education in itself." Eleanor... Copying what the website wrote "Giving of love does not always mean you will receive it back. ER learned this the hard way just like the rest of us. She gave love to her parents who were not always the best parents. She gave love to FDR, who indeed did love her, but probably not the way she anticipated when they married. She showed love to all humanity and was often criticized for it." (S'more....)
"BUT, she also knew this: The more you give love the more you learn how to direct it to where it's needed and in what measure. In return, it will flow back to you tenfold from unexpected places at unexpected times." Nice... real nice Eleanor...
"Do what you feel in your heart to be right, for you'll be criticized for anyway." Eleanor.. and this... this before the days of social media, everyone knows, everyone hears. Wise. Wise lady she was.
Rick Huggins wrote the article on her quotes. He's a much better writer than I, so just gonna copy the ending of what he said - and he said it right after that last quote:
"Damned if you do, damned if you don't. So you might as well be damned if you DID. Eleanor Roosevelt was criticized for a lot of stuff - for being a woman who wanted to assert herself, for helping people nobody else wanted to help, for challenging people to change their outdated beliefs, for being a 'goodie goodie' and so on.....
And surely, the criticism hurt at times, but it didn't stop her. Nor should it you. Make it a point to NOT give a damn what everybody else thinks. Whatever you're striving for, remember that the only voice that matters is the one inside of you." Far out Rick. Far out Eleanor.
I wonder if Eleanor planted the first bed of roses in the Rose Garden at the White House. Certain it was 'an easy, comfortable situation.' And if it wasn't, I bet she trudged on no matter how thorny things got.
Eleanor, was a champion, my friend, and she kept on fighting to the end.
Love, Victurd
Monday, February 04, 2019
This is personal, so don't says I didn't warnya.......
Victor? What? Are you sick? In a relationship? Out of a relationship? Genital Herpes?
For boogety sakes, no.
I peek, from time to time, to see how many actually read this damn blog, and I find - from history - more read when IT AIN'T ABOUT ME, than when it IS about me. So, fair warning, ha.
As happens every morning, the peepers open, I reach for my phone to see if fer sure I've gotten 8 hours sleep (nope, 7 this morning, eh, close enough).. I get up.. of course to go pee.. I laugh as I do, because I make all these noises that are accompanied by a 66 year old getting out of bed, and I walk like the old man Tim Conway as I go.
Coffee making. Local news on. Breakfast? Eh, lemme stew on it. I'm dieting, you see. I had oatmeal yesterday, don't want it today. I do have eggs left, none too eggciting, we'll see.
Out to get the morning paper, in my pajamas. I sleep in undies/t-shirt (SEE? Toldya personal).. and since it was daylight, I slapped on pajama bottoms. Our secret, when it's dark, I don't. I've yet to be confronted with headlights as I wisk out, and fear having "the big one" if I ever do. What a way to go though, laying in the front yard in one's undies, beloved KC Star tucked in arms.
Text message: Hey, can you take the kids to school this morning?
Sure.
I have 36 minutes. I don't want eggs. I put on shoes, coat, head to McDonalds. I look at the order board thingy, see that a Sausage Biscuit is 412 calories, and a Sausage McMuffin is 383. Blows my damn daily diet, but oh well. "Sausage Biscuit, Sausage McMuffin and a cuppa water please." OH HI! They recognize me from before I started my diet, as I usedta do this daily, then drive to the Sutherland parking lot to chow, read the paper.
I blitzed thru the Sport's page, Patriots win, this is a recording, boring. Move to the front section. Man killed in wreck on I-70.. 4 year old girl shot.. Geez... Trump to speak on unity in State of U speech.. Leavenworth Judge reduces 67 year old man's sentence for having sex with 13, 14, & 15 year old girls as he deemed "They were the online aggressor and accepted funds." I always forget if it's Hwy 5 or Hwy 45 that leads to Leavenworth, but if I remembered, I'd drive there now and give this Judge a piece of my mind. Seriously?
No good blog ideas, so off to pickup the grandkids (Kendal, 6, I think.. and Aubrie, 8, I'm sure.)
Text: Tell the little buttheads Grandpa is in the driveway.
Kendal comes running, hollering something about Aubrie. Huh? "She can't find her backpack." OK, but is she coming? "Yes."
She comes. I notice a warning light that Kendal's door was ajar. "Kendal, you need to open and close your door again, real hard, pretend you're a Power Ranger."..... "I'm not a Power Ranger."... (Mean Grandpa internally thought "Just shut the damn door please"...Kind, outward Grandpa eeked out, "I know, but pretend.") Door sufficiently shut.
"Hi Aubrie, how are you?"... "Good." Remembering how damn boring the Super Bowl was, and how damn boring "Good" is as an answer, I press on. "Good, as in a B+ or an A-?"... "What do you mean?".. "I mean, are you really good, an A-, or, just kinda good, a B+.".. "We don't have that." "Whattaya mean?".. "We have numbers, like 1 to 3.".. "So 1 is the best?".. "No, 3 is the best.".. Kendal pipes in "No, we have a 4." Older, much wiser Aub chimes in "No you don't. You have 1 to 3 just like us."
"So, are you feeling good like a 2 or a 3?"... "That's boring. School is boring." Like the Los Angeles Rams, I punted.
We've now driven 2 and 1/2 blocks and I hear Kendal "I can't buckle my seatbelt." (Grandpa fail.) Ok, pulled over, that taken care of. So, I turn and ask,
"Kendal, you little Power Ranger, what number are you?"
Before he could answer, Aub related "One time, he wanted to watch Power Rangers, and I wanted to watch SpongeBob, and grammy wouldn't let me watch SpongeBob." Against better judgment, I stuck up for my ex with "Well, just imagine Aubrie, someday you'll have two children, and one wants to watch Power Rangers, the other SpongeBob, and you've only got one TV. That's pretty tough on granny." "I'm not having children."
I laughed internally, then proposed, "OK, so, let's say one day Kendal has two kids, they come to your house, you're watching them because he's going to a baseball game... same thing, what do you do?" "I do like granny did, we couldn't watch either.. she had us look at what's on, then settle for something we both liked." (I HATE when she's [the ex] smarter than me, just kidding, I was impressed. I again laugh internally, then, pull into school to dump the buttheads [said lovingly]...
"KENDAL OTHER SIDE BY THE CURB!" (He seemingly enjoys dodging traffic.) All good, both out, he slams the door like a Power Ranger. Before it's shut, I holler out "I hope your day is a 3!".... No reply, grandpa is the very last thing on their mind. It's all good.
That's it, kids delivered, blog's over. THAT'S IT? Uh huh. Victor, don't be offended, but that was a 1.
No worries. I've seen ribbons handed out for 3rd place, trophies even, bronze medals too.
It's now formally 2 hours until I can trudge my fat belly to the Community Center to workout.
May your day be fun, not mundane, like mine.
Stickup for yourself, have a little spine.
When asked "Howya doing?" be creative, not a sap.
I'm outta here, time for a nap....
May your day be a 3,
By Henry Gibson III
Love, Victurd
For boogety sakes, no.
I peek, from time to time, to see how many actually read this damn blog, and I find - from history - more read when IT AIN'T ABOUT ME, than when it IS about me. So, fair warning, ha.
As happens every morning, the peepers open, I reach for my phone to see if fer sure I've gotten 8 hours sleep (nope, 7 this morning, eh, close enough).. I get up.. of course to go pee.. I laugh as I do, because I make all these noises that are accompanied by a 66 year old getting out of bed, and I walk like the old man Tim Conway as I go.
Coffee making. Local news on. Breakfast? Eh, lemme stew on it. I'm dieting, you see. I had oatmeal yesterday, don't want it today. I do have eggs left, none too eggciting, we'll see.
Out to get the morning paper, in my pajamas. I sleep in undies/t-shirt (SEE? Toldya personal).. and since it was daylight, I slapped on pajama bottoms. Our secret, when it's dark, I don't. I've yet to be confronted with headlights as I wisk out, and fear having "the big one" if I ever do. What a way to go though, laying in the front yard in one's undies, beloved KC Star tucked in arms.
Text message: Hey, can you take the kids to school this morning?
Sure.
I have 36 minutes. I don't want eggs. I put on shoes, coat, head to McDonalds. I look at the order board thingy, see that a Sausage Biscuit is 412 calories, and a Sausage McMuffin is 383. Blows my damn daily diet, but oh well. "Sausage Biscuit, Sausage McMuffin and a cuppa water please." OH HI! They recognize me from before I started my diet, as I usedta do this daily, then drive to the Sutherland parking lot to chow, read the paper.
I blitzed thru the Sport's page, Patriots win, this is a recording, boring. Move to the front section. Man killed in wreck on I-70.. 4 year old girl shot.. Geez... Trump to speak on unity in State of U speech.. Leavenworth Judge reduces 67 year old man's sentence for having sex with 13, 14, & 15 year old girls as he deemed "They were the online aggressor and accepted funds." I always forget if it's Hwy 5 or Hwy 45 that leads to Leavenworth, but if I remembered, I'd drive there now and give this Judge a piece of my mind. Seriously?
No good blog ideas, so off to pickup the grandkids (Kendal, 6, I think.. and Aubrie, 8, I'm sure.)
Text: Tell the little buttheads Grandpa is in the driveway.
Kendal comes running, hollering something about Aubrie. Huh? "She can't find her backpack." OK, but is she coming? "Yes."
She comes. I notice a warning light that Kendal's door was ajar. "Kendal, you need to open and close your door again, real hard, pretend you're a Power Ranger."..... "I'm not a Power Ranger."... (Mean Grandpa internally thought "Just shut the damn door please"...Kind, outward Grandpa eeked out, "I know, but pretend.") Door sufficiently shut.
"Hi Aubrie, how are you?"... "Good." Remembering how damn boring the Super Bowl was, and how damn boring "Good" is as an answer, I press on. "Good, as in a B+ or an A-?"... "What do you mean?".. "I mean, are you really good, an A-, or, just kinda good, a B+.".. "We don't have that." "Whattaya mean?".. "We have numbers, like 1 to 3.".. "So 1 is the best?".. "No, 3 is the best.".. Kendal pipes in "No, we have a 4." Older, much wiser Aub chimes in "No you don't. You have 1 to 3 just like us."
"So, are you feeling good like a 2 or a 3?"... "That's boring. School is boring." Like the Los Angeles Rams, I punted.
We've now driven 2 and 1/2 blocks and I hear Kendal "I can't buckle my seatbelt." (Grandpa fail.) Ok, pulled over, that taken care of. So, I turn and ask,
"Kendal, you little Power Ranger, what number are you?"
Before he could answer, Aub related "One time, he wanted to watch Power Rangers, and I wanted to watch SpongeBob, and grammy wouldn't let me watch SpongeBob." Against better judgment, I stuck up for my ex with "Well, just imagine Aubrie, someday you'll have two children, and one wants to watch Power Rangers, the other SpongeBob, and you've only got one TV. That's pretty tough on granny." "I'm not having children."
I laughed internally, then proposed, "OK, so, let's say one day Kendal has two kids, they come to your house, you're watching them because he's going to a baseball game... same thing, what do you do?" "I do like granny did, we couldn't watch either.. she had us look at what's on, then settle for something we both liked." (I HATE when she's [the ex] smarter than me, just kidding, I was impressed. I again laugh internally, then, pull into school to dump the buttheads [said lovingly]...
"KENDAL OTHER SIDE BY THE CURB!" (He seemingly enjoys dodging traffic.) All good, both out, he slams the door like a Power Ranger. Before it's shut, I holler out "I hope your day is a 3!".... No reply, grandpa is the very last thing on their mind. It's all good.
That's it, kids delivered, blog's over. THAT'S IT? Uh huh. Victor, don't be offended, but that was a 1.
No worries. I've seen ribbons handed out for 3rd place, trophies even, bronze medals too.
It's now formally 2 hours until I can trudge my fat belly to the Community Center to workout.
May your day be fun, not mundane, like mine.
Stickup for yourself, have a little spine.
When asked "Howya doing?" be creative, not a sap.
I'm outta here, time for a nap....
May your day be a 3,
By Henry Gibson III
Love, Victurd
Friday, February 01, 2019
Retirement is rough...........
We, the Midwest, have been pelted pretty decently with snow this year. We, the OG's (old guys/gals, not to be confused with old gangsters) cry foul on road crews. You prissy commuters get ALL the dadgum highways wiped clean of snow by 6:30am, whilst we OG's must slip slide our way to the Piggly Wiggly on covered secondary streets around 10am. Tain't fair.
Speakin' o' Piggly Wiggly... we miss noise. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to stroll thru the quiet produce aisle at 10:30am without any rugrats in those stupid little cars attached to carts, repeatedly asking "Can I have....(this)...Can I have.... (that?)"... It's no wonder our hearing goes, we never hear any noises..
Exercise... Retirement makes us in no hurry. It ain't fair. Upon occasion I've had to go grab bread around 5:30pm...and I take my normal, decidedly slow pace thru Piggly.. You, however, have little Johnny in the stupid little car attached to the cart screaming "Can I have..." whilst little Susie runs beside hollerin' "Mo'om..WE'RE GONNA BE LATE FOR SOCCER!"...so, you run. It's no wonder we get beer bellies, midriff bulge - you get all the exercise, we are reduced to take that slow pace.
Snotnoses. No, not the little ones.. you Big'ns.. Unsociable. As I'm writing my check at the Piggly, you toss all kinda dirty looks at me. You even gimme that "he's a felon" look when I ask the cashier for a pen because mine ran outta ink. Then, as me and Bertha (the cashier) do when I go there in the daytime - we gotta catch-up on family news... After she takes my check, runs it thru that spinner thing, I GOTTA tell her about cousin Nessie falling and fracturing her elbow up there in Des Moines.. DIRTY LOOKS you throw.. HEY whippersnapper, THIS is our Facebook, butt out (oh, and BTW, I think either you dropped the lemon juice, or little Johnnie peed his pants cause there's a trail of yellow liquid coming from your cart.)
We, OG's, conserve. We was learned by our folks who grew up in the Depression. So, I/we see absolutely NO REASON for you to get all bent outta shape likeya do when we take our stack of 20 Powerball/Lotto/Scratchoffs and hand 'em the the 7-11 dude at 7:30am for him to check 'em. Not my fault you slept in a tad, or had a quicky, and you're running late for work. "Oh? I won eight bucks? YIPPEE! Let's see... gimme one'a them "Money Clip" tickets.. and, ah, a couple of them "Quick hunnerds".. let's see, that's 4 left ain't it?".. "Ahm, no sir, you have 5 more to select.".."Well I'll be gol' darned, cool. Ok, let's see..two of them "Block-O's... one "10X Lucky"... How many's that?" "Six sir, you have two more to select." Right then, there, you purposely exhale LOUDLY as you stand in line right behind me. One would think they'd be happy for an old geezer that just won $8...ain't you got any old relatives?.. and, let's see, a "Money Tree" and a "$25,000 multiplier." OK sir, here ya go.
"Say, Mr. 7-11 dude, did I tellya about my cousin Nessie falling and breaking her elbow?"... "Ahm, no sir you didn't.. maybe you could step over here and tell me so I can help the person behind you." I wanted to say "You mean ole Huffy?" but I didn't, I/we was raised better'n that.
And I simply cannot fathom why all you young folks insist upon riding right on my tail when I'm doing 35 in a 45. I've got ma' dang turn signal on to alert you I'm turning right here in a half mile or so, can'tya see that? It's no wonder there's all these meds nowadays for High Blood pressure, Paxil, Zoloft, Ritalin, and AC/DC or whatever they call it whenya can't sit still.
You youngin's gripe and groan about what day of the week it is. I've noticed Mondays are your least favorite. You think you got it bad? We old'ns get super tired, super easy.. Why just last week I walked out the get the paper, barely enough energy to do so.. I thought it was Monday (your dreaded day) and low and behold it was Sunday and I hadta garner up extrey strength to p/u that dadgum heavy paper. Pffft, you think you got it bad.
“The trouble with retirement is that you never get a day off.” – Abe Lemons
Hump Day is your mundane ritual once you get halfway thru the week. Honey, we have Hump Day every day of the week. Well, at least those of us lucky enough to be mated.. and, jes' makin' sure the humpin's done AFTER the crossword puzzle is solved. I hear tell those single old farts call it Hmmmppphh Day.. and I understand most geezers wait to do that (you know, the Hump thing) around noon, cause they/we kinda sorta listen to the rhythm of the church bells, and naturally, twelve gives ya a little more time. You ever tried to make it thru all that commotion with just 7 bell rings? Uh huh, what I thought.
"Retirement at 65 is ridiculous. When I was 65 I still had pimples." George Burns
You, whippersnappers, get structure. You know exactly when coffee break starts (and ends).. you eyeball the clock closely to go to lunch at noon, return at 1, and not a minute before. Well, we, we OG's, we ain't got that structure. As such, we're penalized. Ya ever laid down at 2pm to take a nap, and ya wakeup only to find you've already missed 20 minutes of Ellen? Uh huh, you ain't got it so bad....you got dings and dongs and intercom notifications.. We go by the light outta the win'der...
And if your young'ns are out playing late at night, would you be so kind simply remind 'em we're extremely busy right before bed? Yeah, how so... Well.. we've got the 6pm news to watch...a jaunt thru the Bible, then we gotta read the daily quote from The Cat in The Hat. Yeah, like what does the Cat in the Hat say?
Well, yesterday it was a special note to us, bout us, retired folks:
I cannot see
I cannot pee
I cannot chew
I cannot screw
Oh, my God,
What can I do?
My memory shrinks
My hearing stinks
No sense of smell
I look like hell
My mood is bad
Can you tell?
My body's drooping
Have trouble pooping
The Golden Years have come at last,
The Golden Years can kiss my ass.
Welcome to the age where your secrets are safe with your friends... they can't remember them either.
When you stop living at work and start working at living: Retirement
Tell 'em you miss the office..and try not to laugh..
"Now Norman, I'm just popping in here to try on some shoes. What are you gonna do?"
"I'll go on Holiday to Spain and meet you back here."
Retirement... Twice as much husband for half as much money.
"WORK!!!!" Maynard G. Crebs
“Retire from work, but not from life.” – M.K. Soni
I've GOT to go now... I'm supposedta.. I'm supposetda... well, seeya..
By Henry Gibson, Sr.
Love, Victurd
Speakin' o' Piggly Wiggly... we miss noise. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to stroll thru the quiet produce aisle at 10:30am without any rugrats in those stupid little cars attached to carts, repeatedly asking "Can I have....(this)...Can I have.... (that?)"... It's no wonder our hearing goes, we never hear any noises..
Exercise... Retirement makes us in no hurry. It ain't fair. Upon occasion I've had to go grab bread around 5:30pm...and I take my normal, decidedly slow pace thru Piggly.. You, however, have little Johnny in the stupid little car attached to the cart screaming "Can I have..." whilst little Susie runs beside hollerin' "Mo'om..WE'RE GONNA BE LATE FOR SOCCER!"...so, you run. It's no wonder we get beer bellies, midriff bulge - you get all the exercise, we are reduced to take that slow pace.
Snotnoses. No, not the little ones.. you Big'ns.. Unsociable. As I'm writing my check at the Piggly, you toss all kinda dirty looks at me. You even gimme that "he's a felon" look when I ask the cashier for a pen because mine ran outta ink. Then, as me and Bertha (the cashier) do when I go there in the daytime - we gotta catch-up on family news... After she takes my check, runs it thru that spinner thing, I GOTTA tell her about cousin Nessie falling and fracturing her elbow up there in Des Moines.. DIRTY LOOKS you throw.. HEY whippersnapper, THIS is our Facebook, butt out (oh, and BTW, I think either you dropped the lemon juice, or little Johnnie peed his pants cause there's a trail of yellow liquid coming from your cart.)
We, OG's, conserve. We was learned by our folks who grew up in the Depression. So, I/we see absolutely NO REASON for you to get all bent outta shape likeya do when we take our stack of 20 Powerball/Lotto/Scratchoffs and hand 'em the the 7-11 dude at 7:30am for him to check 'em. Not my fault you slept in a tad, or had a quicky, and you're running late for work. "Oh? I won eight bucks? YIPPEE! Let's see... gimme one'a them "Money Clip" tickets.. and, ah, a couple of them "Quick hunnerds".. let's see, that's 4 left ain't it?".. "Ahm, no sir, you have 5 more to select.".."Well I'll be gol' darned, cool. Ok, let's see..two of them "Block-O's... one "10X Lucky"... How many's that?" "Six sir, you have two more to select." Right then, there, you purposely exhale LOUDLY as you stand in line right behind me. One would think they'd be happy for an old geezer that just won $8...ain't you got any old relatives?.. and, let's see, a "Money Tree" and a "$25,000 multiplier." OK sir, here ya go.
"Say, Mr. 7-11 dude, did I tellya about my cousin Nessie falling and breaking her elbow?"... "Ahm, no sir you didn't.. maybe you could step over here and tell me so I can help the person behind you." I wanted to say "You mean ole Huffy?" but I didn't, I/we was raised better'n that.
And I simply cannot fathom why all you young folks insist upon riding right on my tail when I'm doing 35 in a 45. I've got ma' dang turn signal on to alert you I'm turning right here in a half mile or so, can'tya see that? It's no wonder there's all these meds nowadays for High Blood pressure, Paxil, Zoloft, Ritalin, and AC/DC or whatever they call it whenya can't sit still.
You youngin's gripe and groan about what day of the week it is. I've noticed Mondays are your least favorite. You think you got it bad? We old'ns get super tired, super easy.. Why just last week I walked out the get the paper, barely enough energy to do so.. I thought it was Monday (your dreaded day) and low and behold it was Sunday and I hadta garner up extrey strength to p/u that dadgum heavy paper. Pffft, you think you got it bad.
“The trouble with retirement is that you never get a day off.” – Abe Lemons
Hump Day is your mundane ritual once you get halfway thru the week. Honey, we have Hump Day every day of the week. Well, at least those of us lucky enough to be mated.. and, jes' makin' sure the humpin's done AFTER the crossword puzzle is solved. I hear tell those single old farts call it Hmmmppphh Day.. and I understand most geezers wait to do that (you know, the Hump thing) around noon, cause they/we kinda sorta listen to the rhythm of the church bells, and naturally, twelve gives ya a little more time. You ever tried to make it thru all that commotion with just 7 bell rings? Uh huh, what I thought.
"Retirement at 65 is ridiculous. When I was 65 I still had pimples." George Burns
You, whippersnappers, get structure. You know exactly when coffee break starts (and ends).. you eyeball the clock closely to go to lunch at noon, return at 1, and not a minute before. Well, we, we OG's, we ain't got that structure. As such, we're penalized. Ya ever laid down at 2pm to take a nap, and ya wakeup only to find you've already missed 20 minutes of Ellen? Uh huh, you ain't got it so bad....you got dings and dongs and intercom notifications.. We go by the light outta the win'der...
And if your young'ns are out playing late at night, would you be so kind simply remind 'em we're extremely busy right before bed? Yeah, how so... Well.. we've got the 6pm news to watch...a jaunt thru the Bible, then we gotta read the daily quote from The Cat in The Hat. Yeah, like what does the Cat in the Hat say?
Well, yesterday it was a special note to us, bout us, retired folks:
I cannot see
I cannot pee
I cannot chew
I cannot screw
Oh, my God,
What can I do?
My memory shrinks
My hearing stinks
No sense of smell
I look like hell
My mood is bad
Can you tell?
My body's drooping
Have trouble pooping
The Golden Years have come at last,
The Golden Years can kiss my ass.
Welcome to the age where your secrets are safe with your friends... they can't remember them either.
When you stop living at work and start working at living: Retirement
Tell 'em you miss the office..and try not to laugh..
"Now Norman, I'm just popping in here to try on some shoes. What are you gonna do?"
"I'll go on Holiday to Spain and meet you back here."
Retirement... Twice as much husband for half as much money.
"WORK!!!!" Maynard G. Crebs
“Retire from work, but not from life.” – M.K. Soni
I've GOT to go now... I'm supposedta.. I'm supposetda... well, seeya..
By Henry Gibson, Sr.
Love, Victurd
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