Friday night. He'd already put in 53 hours at his construction job, not to mention the additional 15 hours driving to and fro. One to wet the whistle, drive home, take the boots off, kick his feet up... only to fall asleep to Netflix.
Diane's head was ablazen from all the Monday thru Friday cubicle gossip whirling above and around her head. Susie's divorce... the new boss's arrogance.. and oodles and oodles of hard work put in to finally achieve her 3pm Friday deadline - completed. By the joint to stop for one to inaugurate the weekend.
Their eyes met across the bar. Well, that's not totally true.. Her eyeballs laid and stayed focused on his Wranglers as he got up and walked into the john. With much delight, and continued focus, she was doubly pleased as he returned to his barstool. His eyes. "Yum, his eyes" she thought - not to be outdone was his appealing smile, first take of thinking "a good, decent man."
For every action, there's an equal and opposite reaction, and it so happens he caught her eyes from across the room, "dreamy" crept into his brain - she smiled... like a tennis player, he returned same.
Soon, she too got up to use the restroom... "Would you look at her wonderful figure!" ran thru his brain. They both were in great shape, and to be frank, "bend me, shape me any way you want me" crossed his brain. We, all men, are/can be piggies. Just a gol durn minute, all women can be piglets too. She returned to her chair at the table, sitting by herself.
He sucked, or so he thought, on being the aggressor, coming up with something friendly, catchy to say as an introduction. Gulping the last drop of his jack and coke, he said to heck with it - walked over, announced, "Hi, I'm Jack." "Nice to meet you Jack" as she extended her hand, "I'm Diane." She felt the roughness of his hand - but it was Ok, a comfy "honest day's work" feel.
Somehow, words came with ease - they admired one another's smiles, eyes, conversation, all that. They each returned once to the restroom, they equally admired that. With visions of sugarplums, and "If the house is a rockin'" thoughts went thru their brains, she didn't hesitate one iota when he asked for her cell number.
He figured 9am Saturday she prolly would be up, so he called. "Hi Jack!" she exclaimed. "Careful," he cautioned, "don't ever say that to me getting on a plane." "Ha" she fired back, "how are you?" He was higher than a kite at the thought of a date with her, but fearing showing too much "oh baby oh baby" emotion, he answered calmly, "I'm very good, and you?" Small talk led to "hey, let's take a drive this afternoon to stare at the beauty of the trees changing>" "Great, let's do."
They did. There was comfort, ease in their conversation. Each felt the want to pinch themselves to make sure they were awake and it wasn't a dream. They took turns staring at the trees along the way, but in truth, they, again like a tennis match, took turns staring at the other when the other wasn't watching. Two hours expired in what seemed like 10 minutes.
"Hey," Jack threw out, "howabout a game of Parcheesi back at my place?" She couldn't have cared if he'd asked Monopoly, Clue, Scrabble, Go Fish or Duck, Duck Goose - she was game. (Side note, "Parcheesi nicely spelled Victor." I know, thanks to Microsoft red underlining.)
He lost game one. "Two outta three? Loser cooks dinner?" "Deal" Diane fired back with a smile.
In between moments of however in the heck one plays Parcheesi, they dipped into their life histories, siblings, where they grew up, their parents, past jobs...whatever seemed worthy of sharing.
"Ha! One to One" Jack lipsmacked with a smile. "Game 3 on, I'm hankerin' for some spaghetti!"
Unlike the 'every time I lose a wrasslin' match, I got a funny feeling that I won,' she actually did win. "Got the ingredients for lasagna?" she fired. Strangely, he did.
Pandora blared in the background, with brief interludes of clanking pots and pans. An album later, "Dinner is served." Candlelit dinner. Diane was impressed, and after bite #1, doubly impressed.
They walked the dishes to the sink, and both dug into the warm water to wash and rinse the dishes. He felt the urge for a hug, their first, she willingly obliged. "I wish my hands weren't so wet" he thought to himself. "I wish his hands weren't so wet" she dreamed.
Out back, the air was as cold as what one thinks the air is in the Midwest when the trees change - thus, they nestled in around the firepit. Conversation, laughter, giggles, baby touches ruled the night. At one point, he used his sleeve to wipe the Hersheymellowgraham off her lip, then followed with a kiss. She no complained.
They went to the bedroom, doinked, and planned their second date. Don't be a dweeb and believe that..
She did spend the night, but no hanky panky. Si, hugs, kisses, laughter, mutual body heat to assist the furnace...a good time was had by all.
She awakened staring at a ceiling she didn't remember.. to the smell of coffee coming from the distance. "Sugar...sugar?" Jack asked. "Nope, black is perfect." They downed some biscuits and gravy, jointly worked the morning crossword puzzle, while her thoughts crept to "Man this guy can cook", which is fancy for "Damn he's cute, handsome, BUILT."
Like a good tennis player's return, similar thought transpired in his brain.
A nice, long hug at the doorway - she opened the closet door to retrieve her wrap - and there it was. His MAGA hat. "DEPLORABLE!" she screamed... long about that time he noticed peeking out from under her blouse her "Not me. Us" Bernie Sanders t-shirt. "SNOWFLAKE!" he returned in equal pissed off tennis match fashion.
Neither noticed "Why Can't We Be Friends" playing in the background on Pandora.
Fall is changing to Winter. There would be no shady tree and she kept her Bobby Brooks on.
Woosh, she was gone, fastern' a scroll thru an opponent's posting on Facebook. "Eh, it's hunting season anyways" Jack told himself.
Oh yeah, life goes on... long after the thrill of living is gone.
A little ditty, 'bout Jack and Diane. And us, in America today.
Love, Victurd
Monday, October 28, 2019
Friday, October 18, 2019
Mice and Men... M&M's... Mahomes not home on the range......
The deer and the antelope are oblivious.
And the beat goes on............. or doesn't.
Screeching halt. Words, reactions like OMG... Holy mackerel.. or my personal fav "NOOOOOOOOOO!!!" (I wasn't a very good high school basketball shooter. I think I played mainly because I hustled. Our Coach, whenever I'd take a shot, hollered "NOOOOOOO!!!")
Life disruption. Down goes Frazier. Wally Pipp lost his job to some chump named Lou Gehrig. Chicken Little reminds us the toast is burnt regarding our QB, the greatest thing since sliced bread.
Divorce. Death. Injury. Affliction. Much happens, or doesn't. The end, usually, ain't great.
Cope can lead to hope or mope. We're all different. I'm unique, just like you.
I know of a lad, good guy. Fun. Divorce back in the 80's, maybe even the 90's, I don't recall. Life, as he knew it, OVER. Friends worried he would harm himself.
Whilst no one has solved "the chicken or the egg" question, history tells us Humpty was beyond repair.
Happy to report, this lad is the happiest I've ever seen him - with a great gal who's just as happy - life it be good.
So Victor, you're now divorced twice - been single since whenever the last divorce was (2005) - are you gonna head to the pulpit and tell us the tale again about life repair, duct tape and bailing wire?
Nope, ain't. I'm here to observe. Have fun. People watch. Then, open my big trap (keyboard).
Chantilly lace and a pretty face, a pony tail, hanging down - that wiggle in the walk, and giggle in the talk, makes the world go round - there ain't nothing in the world like a big eyed girl, that makes me act so funny, make me spend my money, make me feel real loose like a long necked good...like a girl, OH BABY that's what I like.
Sorry, the song slipped out. Felt it, dealt it. My bad.
Life smacks us right in the face sometimes - we all respond differently. Humpty took the omelette route, Pipp gave way to Gehrig (Lou then set the record for playing in 2,130 consecutive games), Pipp ultimately got traded. Even sweet Lou - was smacked in the face. ALS. How'd he respond? Certain you've heard his speech "For the past two weeks you have been reading about my bad break, yet, today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth."
The late, great Buck O'Neil, denied the opportunity to play in the Major Leagues because of his color - with smile, related "I was right on time."
Some go the bottle. Otis. Uncle Tom. (Uncle Tom was an actual uncle, had drinking problem, never knew his history or why, like Santa Claus clockwork, he showed up each and every Christmas, the only time we ever saw him.) The guy with the beard that sits at the bar on "The Ranch." Who knows their life interruption...
What is the name of the bird that can't land? Emu? Albatross? Hell I dunno, but it's fun to watch the video of them trying to land. Sad too.
Edith Fore was credited as portraying Mrs. Fletcher. Although a stunt person performed the fall itself, Fore said she created the "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up" line while discussing the accident with LifeCall.
OMG. Holy Mackerel. NOOOOOOOOO!
I've bored you with this before, but, it's my blog, my computer, my fingers that shout "People let me tell ya bout my best friend." My mom. Age 57, a massive stroke. Her life smack in the face. Father as witness. Life change. This had a wonderful end. (I'm of course, biased.) Dad immediately quit his traveling sales job, got "D tags", used our alleyway to fix up and sell old clunkers, so they could eat, live and be happy. And they were. Dad sang old showtunes as he cooked, cleaned. Mom had her 'nest' (as dad called it.) Newspapers, Kleenexes galore. I have framed, and 8 1/2 by 11 sheet of paper, where, due to her stroke, had written completely on the right hand side "The secret to success is how you deal with plan B." Far, frigging out.
Most...ok, all of us - go thru "I'm a chocolate mess" times. Do we leave it on our hands and get it all over - or, do we wash it off and figure out how to make a candy that "Melts in your mouth, not our hands."
I love you, I'm sorry you've struggled. We all struggle. Sometimes we struggle ugly - which, reminds me of one of my alltime favorite quotes that has absolutely nothing to do with this blog. Kareem Jabbar, in advance of coming to play the Kansas City Kings in basketball, would shout out to Sam Lacy, our center, "I'm coming to town and I'm gonna knock some of the ugly off your face."
Fly high, or jump off a small wall, we'll figure out the landing later. Holler like Wally "Put me in coach, I'm ready to play, today - look at me (Since Lou is now at first base) I can be, Centerfield.
Have an occasional beer. A good cry. Wade your toes in self pity as you cross the creek, but don't take up permanent residence there. Have an omelette.
By all means, smile. Laugh, love. Life goes on - it's our call how to respond.
"To The Outhouse" by Willie Makeit, better known as our backup QB Matt Moore. Mice and Men... M&M's... Moore & Mahomes. Will this melt in our mouth, or on our hands? Time, life will tell. 20 years from now, those of you that will still be alive will ask "Whatinthehell was the name of that guy that came in for Mahomes? Something or other Pipp wasn't it?
OMG. Holy Mackerel. NOOOOOOOOO!
Love, Victurd
And the beat goes on............. or doesn't.
Screeching halt. Words, reactions like OMG... Holy mackerel.. or my personal fav "NOOOOOOOOOO!!!" (I wasn't a very good high school basketball shooter. I think I played mainly because I hustled. Our Coach, whenever I'd take a shot, hollered "NOOOOOOO!!!")
Life disruption. Down goes Frazier. Wally Pipp lost his job to some chump named Lou Gehrig. Chicken Little reminds us the toast is burnt regarding our QB, the greatest thing since sliced bread.
Divorce. Death. Injury. Affliction. Much happens, or doesn't. The end, usually, ain't great.
Cope can lead to hope or mope. We're all different. I'm unique, just like you.
I know of a lad, good guy. Fun. Divorce back in the 80's, maybe even the 90's, I don't recall. Life, as he knew it, OVER. Friends worried he would harm himself.
Whilst no one has solved "the chicken or the egg" question, history tells us Humpty was beyond repair.
Happy to report, this lad is the happiest I've ever seen him - with a great gal who's just as happy - life it be good.
So Victor, you're now divorced twice - been single since whenever the last divorce was (2005) - are you gonna head to the pulpit and tell us the tale again about life repair, duct tape and bailing wire?
Nope, ain't. I'm here to observe. Have fun. People watch. Then, open my big trap (keyboard).
Chantilly lace and a pretty face, a pony tail, hanging down - that wiggle in the walk, and giggle in the talk, makes the world go round - there ain't nothing in the world like a big eyed girl, that makes me act so funny, make me spend my money, make me feel real loose like a long necked good...like a girl, OH BABY that's what I like.
Sorry, the song slipped out. Felt it, dealt it. My bad.
Life smacks us right in the face sometimes - we all respond differently. Humpty took the omelette route, Pipp gave way to Gehrig (Lou then set the record for playing in 2,130 consecutive games), Pipp ultimately got traded. Even sweet Lou - was smacked in the face. ALS. How'd he respond? Certain you've heard his speech "For the past two weeks you have been reading about my bad break, yet, today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth."
The late, great Buck O'Neil, denied the opportunity to play in the Major Leagues because of his color - with smile, related "I was right on time."
Some go the bottle. Otis. Uncle Tom. (Uncle Tom was an actual uncle, had drinking problem, never knew his history or why, like Santa Claus clockwork, he showed up each and every Christmas, the only time we ever saw him.) The guy with the beard that sits at the bar on "The Ranch." Who knows their life interruption...
What is the name of the bird that can't land? Emu? Albatross? Hell I dunno, but it's fun to watch the video of them trying to land. Sad too.
Edith Fore was credited as portraying Mrs. Fletcher. Although a stunt person performed the fall itself, Fore said she created the "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up" line while discussing the accident with LifeCall.
OMG. Holy Mackerel. NOOOOOOOOO!
I've bored you with this before, but, it's my blog, my computer, my fingers that shout "People let me tell ya bout my best friend." My mom. Age 57, a massive stroke. Her life smack in the face. Father as witness. Life change. This had a wonderful end. (I'm of course, biased.) Dad immediately quit his traveling sales job, got "D tags", used our alleyway to fix up and sell old clunkers, so they could eat, live and be happy. And they were. Dad sang old showtunes as he cooked, cleaned. Mom had her 'nest' (as dad called it.) Newspapers, Kleenexes galore. I have framed, and 8 1/2 by 11 sheet of paper, where, due to her stroke, had written completely on the right hand side "The secret to success is how you deal with plan B." Far, frigging out.
Most...ok, all of us - go thru "I'm a chocolate mess" times. Do we leave it on our hands and get it all over - or, do we wash it off and figure out how to make a candy that "Melts in your mouth, not our hands."
I love you, I'm sorry you've struggled. We all struggle. Sometimes we struggle ugly - which, reminds me of one of my alltime favorite quotes that has absolutely nothing to do with this blog. Kareem Jabbar, in advance of coming to play the Kansas City Kings in basketball, would shout out to Sam Lacy, our center, "I'm coming to town and I'm gonna knock some of the ugly off your face."
Fly high, or jump off a small wall, we'll figure out the landing later. Holler like Wally "Put me in coach, I'm ready to play, today - look at me (Since Lou is now at first base) I can be, Centerfield.
Have an occasional beer. A good cry. Wade your toes in self pity as you cross the creek, but don't take up permanent residence there. Have an omelette.
By all means, smile. Laugh, love. Life goes on - it's our call how to respond.
"To The Outhouse" by Willie Makeit, better known as our backup QB Matt Moore. Mice and Men... M&M's... Moore & Mahomes. Will this melt in our mouth, or on our hands? Time, life will tell. 20 years from now, those of you that will still be alive will ask "Whatinthehell was the name of that guy that came in for Mahomes? Something or other Pipp wasn't it?
OMG. Holy Mackerel. NOOOOOOOOO!
Love, Victurd
Wednesday, October 16, 2019
Continuing Education
Sure, I'd like to try to swat a line drive, round first base and try to stretch it into two.
Full court basketball might be nice.
6am to midnight traversing Highway 76 and all therein in Branson.
Instead, here I sit. Older. Mebbe too old for all that. I'm at peace with that.
Three loads of laundry stare at me from the bedroom. In my best single voice, "Honey, I'll get to that soon."
Soon after I sit and kill 3 hours listening to Classic Rock on youtube. No lights on. Quiet. This is mebbe better than the high blood pressure meds I take.
Knock, knock, knock.. 'Ahm, you've got three, THREE loads of laundry needing to be done."
Stones, Eagles, Rod Stewart, The Beatles. "I'll get to them soon."
Leave me alone, I'm old, I'm tired - I don't work but Uncle Sam (er, Social Security) pays me anyways. I choose time out.
I find listening more fun as I age. I find, when someone tosses a line at me, I have less and less urge to bite the bait (argue). I find, if the urge hits me to make a smartass comment that will invoke a smile, I'm kinda sorta unleashed, and OK with that. What better than laughter with whatever time is left?
It all usedta be about "what's next?"... What to wear to work. Path to work. Who's at, or not at, work. What within that mess upon my desk would my boss like for me to do first? Next? Does the kid have anything today? Need I hurry home from work? Our plans? Will we make it to payday?
Now, I sit. And listen. No hustle. No bustle. Damn, it's nice.
BRB, the 7 minute version of "You can't always get what you want" just came on.
Rome, Paris, London, St. Thomas, Cancun...even Cooperstown, DC, San Diego - sure, all would nice. For now, I sit. Sometimes you get what you need.
Today, it kinda feels good to get caught in the rain. I don't even cuss (much) if the Newspaper guy forgets to deliver my paper two days in a row now. Uh huh, no fun paying $2.50 + tax today at the Piggly Wiggly for today's edition that ya already paid for - but it is what it is, scroll back to the high pressure point. Not worth it.
I have no idea who is here, what you are wanting, or even more, what I want to say. I think what I'm trying to say is this getting old ain't bad. We're born a 78 speed record, morph into a 45 - then ride it out as a 33. You tailgate, stress, hurry, no looky at the scenery, mile a minute, regret blurts, bury your head in your Dayplanner....
Nomme. I'm chilaxin'. I stress, less stress. Your check engine light is gonna come on. Your back (shoulder, hip, knee, foot, yada) is gonna hurt. This life palette infronta us, it ain't always gonna pan out as we wish. It is what it is. Age teaches not flipping out, flipping the lights off instead. Breathe deep. Chilax.
Bowie and Mercury are singing "Under Pressure." Nice song, but huh uh, no more. The mirror tells me these lines on my face are deep enough. When I shave and swipe the shaving cream off, it takes two swipes as much is left in the crevices. Tis OK. Earned em. You too.
I do wholeheartedly subscribe to the advice "If you don't move, you die," but like the laundry, there's a time and a place for that.
No takey this the wrong way, but much of our life is spent in doing for others. (ie, no pats on the back, we all, as parents, workers, yada, do that.) Today, this age, is just damn peachy to think of one's self occasionally and spoil the hell outta your own bad self. Grab that cinnamon roll, I'll treadmill it later. Search, play that one song where the gosh darn sax 'talks to you.' Close the eyes. Smile. Relax. Chilax.
I ain't no preacher - but I wanna tell you I'm finding complementing others is better than sex. OK, maybe that's a stretch, but damn it feels good, TO EACH. One can forget much that goes on in a day, but when we're complemented, we smile as we groan our old bones to bed - remembering how good what was said made us feel. how thankful we are for the person saying that. So, I try to, more.
Life is a continuing education, but with old age, what better, there ain't no lesson plans, no curriculum. OUR. OWN. PACE. Again, I no profess to be a professor or a preacher or a look at me, do as I say - I'm simply finding, as I age, the stuff important to me now is: treating others nicely, treating one's self nicely, no getty in a huff... have smiles, make smiles.
I gotta go. Laundry Victor? No.. pee. There are still little tidbits of stress even with aging.
Have a fun day. Catch someone doing good. Have smile. Make smile. Be a smartass. Chilax. Buy yourself something (and your grandkids two things).
Go to Motel 6-teefivesomething. We don't leave the light on, we turn it off. Close our eyes. Meditate. Feel. Feel good. Chilax. Thrive in how good this learning to be old is.
Love, Victurd
Full court basketball might be nice.
6am to midnight traversing Highway 76 and all therein in Branson.
Instead, here I sit. Older. Mebbe too old for all that. I'm at peace with that.
Three loads of laundry stare at me from the bedroom. In my best single voice, "Honey, I'll get to that soon."
Soon after I sit and kill 3 hours listening to Classic Rock on youtube. No lights on. Quiet. This is mebbe better than the high blood pressure meds I take.
Knock, knock, knock.. 'Ahm, you've got three, THREE loads of laundry needing to be done."
Stones, Eagles, Rod Stewart, The Beatles. "I'll get to them soon."
Leave me alone, I'm old, I'm tired - I don't work but Uncle Sam (er, Social Security) pays me anyways. I choose time out.
I find listening more fun as I age. I find, when someone tosses a line at me, I have less and less urge to bite the bait (argue). I find, if the urge hits me to make a smartass comment that will invoke a smile, I'm kinda sorta unleashed, and OK with that. What better than laughter with whatever time is left?
It all usedta be about "what's next?"... What to wear to work. Path to work. Who's at, or not at, work. What within that mess upon my desk would my boss like for me to do first? Next? Does the kid have anything today? Need I hurry home from work? Our plans? Will we make it to payday?
Now, I sit. And listen. No hustle. No bustle. Damn, it's nice.
BRB, the 7 minute version of "You can't always get what you want" just came on.
Rome, Paris, London, St. Thomas, Cancun...even Cooperstown, DC, San Diego - sure, all would nice. For now, I sit. Sometimes you get what you need.
Today, it kinda feels good to get caught in the rain. I don't even cuss (much) if the Newspaper guy forgets to deliver my paper two days in a row now. Uh huh, no fun paying $2.50 + tax today at the Piggly Wiggly for today's edition that ya already paid for - but it is what it is, scroll back to the high pressure point. Not worth it.
I have no idea who is here, what you are wanting, or even more, what I want to say. I think what I'm trying to say is this getting old ain't bad. We're born a 78 speed record, morph into a 45 - then ride it out as a 33. You tailgate, stress, hurry, no looky at the scenery, mile a minute, regret blurts, bury your head in your Dayplanner....
Nomme. I'm chilaxin'. I stress, less stress. Your check engine light is gonna come on. Your back (shoulder, hip, knee, foot, yada) is gonna hurt. This life palette infronta us, it ain't always gonna pan out as we wish. It is what it is. Age teaches not flipping out, flipping the lights off instead. Breathe deep. Chilax.
Bowie and Mercury are singing "Under Pressure." Nice song, but huh uh, no more. The mirror tells me these lines on my face are deep enough. When I shave and swipe the shaving cream off, it takes two swipes as much is left in the crevices. Tis OK. Earned em. You too.
I do wholeheartedly subscribe to the advice "If you don't move, you die," but like the laundry, there's a time and a place for that.
No takey this the wrong way, but much of our life is spent in doing for others. (ie, no pats on the back, we all, as parents, workers, yada, do that.) Today, this age, is just damn peachy to think of one's self occasionally and spoil the hell outta your own bad self. Grab that cinnamon roll, I'll treadmill it later. Search, play that one song where the gosh darn sax 'talks to you.' Close the eyes. Smile. Relax. Chilax.
I ain't no preacher - but I wanna tell you I'm finding complementing others is better than sex. OK, maybe that's a stretch, but damn it feels good, TO EACH. One can forget much that goes on in a day, but when we're complemented, we smile as we groan our old bones to bed - remembering how good what was said made us feel. how thankful we are for the person saying that. So, I try to, more.
Life is a continuing education, but with old age, what better, there ain't no lesson plans, no curriculum. OUR. OWN. PACE. Again, I no profess to be a professor or a preacher or a look at me, do as I say - I'm simply finding, as I age, the stuff important to me now is: treating others nicely, treating one's self nicely, no getty in a huff... have smiles, make smiles.
I gotta go. Laundry Victor? No.. pee. There are still little tidbits of stress even with aging.
Have a fun day. Catch someone doing good. Have smile. Make smile. Be a smartass. Chilax. Buy yourself something (and your grandkids two things).
Go to Motel 6-teefivesomething. We don't leave the light on, we turn it off. Close our eyes. Meditate. Feel. Feel good. Chilax. Thrive in how good this learning to be old is.
Love, Victurd
Wednesday, October 09, 2019
And we'll have fun, fun, fun 'til her daddy takes her T-Bird away......
Life, sometimes, is just boring. Time to spiff the joint up.
Ideas? (I Googled)
"Shake up your morning routine" and "please your palette." OK, so, my daily drive to McDonalds. Insteada going the same, mundane, fastest way.... I drove under the ole' one-lane 'honk bridge'. That's always fun. Past "around this inexhaustible spring, Liberty was founded." Do do do do, take you back. And it did. THEN, insteada ordering a Sausage Biscuit and Sausage McMuffin, I ordered a Sausage McMuffin and Sausage Biscuit. Confused the hell outta Window #1's Shirley.. "It IS you" she exclaimed as I pulled up.
"Make a bucket list," and "Rearrange your furniture." The suggestion was to 'move your armchair to where the sofa is, and vice versa.' I'm too old for that. So, instead, the first bucket list item was "To attend a Rolling Stones concert." They were in Denver recently, but oh baby the tickets (and the altitude) were high. So................. I went to Youtube, entered "Rolling Stones Live", turned my TV 180 degrees so it was facing the wall (Hey, the only tickets I saw I could afford were BEHIND the stage), cranked and pretended I was there, AND rearranged furniture - two birds, one stone. Well, several Stones. I had a blast...you can't always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need.
"Go on a scavenger hunt." Cinchy. First, I drove to Best Buy, my goal was to simultaneously watch the 33 TV's displayed and see how fast I could find 4 commercials that didn't have Patrick Mahomes in them. Took awhile, but did it. Over the new bridge to Wally World where the quest was to find 4 people older than me. Again, took awhile, especially since they axed all the Greeters - but I eventually saw two, then went and sat on the bench by the pharmacy ("Excuse me ma'am, what year did you graduate?" - aha, a little over an hour. Last trip/scavenge To Dollar Tree. Bought me a "Get well soon" mylar balloon, stood in line with 12 other people for the one cashier whilst 7 other DT employees silently stocked nearby for fear of hearing "Myrna, Register 2 please."... Road trip with balloon to find the very first roadkill i could find to attach the balloon to. I was hoping it was a raccoon (long story, but you'd agree with me).. hoped it wouldn't be a squirrel cause the helium might bring it off the ground and toward Heaven, and hey, that ain't my call. Maybe Bambi? It was a squirrel, but he was a fat one, hadn't been run'd over 12 times. Swatted the flies away, tied the balloon - one scavenger hunt in the books!
"Cut a rug":
Thus, grabbed my boombox, back to Dollar Tree to buy 15 D batteries from Myrna.. to the Rancho Grande where I played "Macarena" and danced away on the sidewalk in front. Didn't see anyone I knew, but I wasn't worried, that's why I went and did this before they opened.
Down the parking lot to my personal bank.. Plopped the box down in the middle of the lobby, put in my favorite John, Paul, George and Ringo's "The best things in life are free, but you can keep them for the birds and the bees, Now give me money (that's what I want), now give me money (That's what I want.)" Teller Michelle kinda looked at me funny, but she knew from experience I like stupid jokes so she never dialed 911.
A real quick Fast Food array of 2-stepping (Mickey D's "you deserve a break today"...Pizza Hut "putt putt, the pizza hut".. and ah chihuahua Taco Bell for "Go to... taco taco taco taco taco taco Bell.' I was gonna swing by Arbys "We have the meat" but I had the runs, so... home.
"Shake up your sex life." Ahm.... next suggestion please.
"Do that one big thing. Is there one big action you've been holding back on that could turn your life from boring to amazing? Maybe it's a job change, a move, a proposal, a change of scenery, a new relationship in your life. Whatever it is, take that first step. Action creates momentum, and momentum builds excitement."
With all that said, I took that first big step to the bathroom. (Remember? I got the runs.)
This is maybe the worst blog ever, but it's kinda like Bill Self said after Snoop Dog shot dollar bills at KU players from an Adidas gun recently at their "Late Night at the Phog", "Even bad publicity is better than no publicity."
Thinking on my own, I watched CNN for 30 minutes (In Spanish), then, Fox News for 30 minutes (In French.)
Nap time. Me no likey Dr. Laura, but I do like her "No go take on the day."
I'd love to hear how you spiff up life. Call me, text me, message me, but gimme 42 minutes (average length of my naps.)
Happy day,
By Henry 'Spiff' Gibson
Love, Victurds - pun mebbe intended
Ideas? (I Googled)
"Shake up your morning routine" and "please your palette." OK, so, my daily drive to McDonalds. Insteada going the same, mundane, fastest way.... I drove under the ole' one-lane 'honk bridge'. That's always fun. Past "around this inexhaustible spring, Liberty was founded." Do do do do, take you back. And it did. THEN, insteada ordering a Sausage Biscuit and Sausage McMuffin, I ordered a Sausage McMuffin and Sausage Biscuit. Confused the hell outta Window #1's Shirley.. "It IS you" she exclaimed as I pulled up.
"Make a bucket list," and "Rearrange your furniture." The suggestion was to 'move your armchair to where the sofa is, and vice versa.' I'm too old for that. So, instead, the first bucket list item was "To attend a Rolling Stones concert." They were in Denver recently, but oh baby the tickets (and the altitude) were high. So................. I went to Youtube, entered "Rolling Stones Live", turned my TV 180 degrees so it was facing the wall (Hey, the only tickets I saw I could afford were BEHIND the stage), cranked and pretended I was there, AND rearranged furniture - two birds, one stone. Well, several Stones. I had a blast...you can't always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need.
"Go on a scavenger hunt." Cinchy. First, I drove to Best Buy, my goal was to simultaneously watch the 33 TV's displayed and see how fast I could find 4 commercials that didn't have Patrick Mahomes in them. Took awhile, but did it. Over the new bridge to Wally World where the quest was to find 4 people older than me. Again, took awhile, especially since they axed all the Greeters - but I eventually saw two, then went and sat on the bench by the pharmacy ("Excuse me ma'am, what year did you graduate?" - aha, a little over an hour. Last trip/scavenge To Dollar Tree. Bought me a "Get well soon" mylar balloon, stood in line with 12 other people for the one cashier whilst 7 other DT employees silently stocked nearby for fear of hearing "Myrna, Register 2 please."... Road trip with balloon to find the very first roadkill i could find to attach the balloon to. I was hoping it was a raccoon (long story, but you'd agree with me).. hoped it wouldn't be a squirrel cause the helium might bring it off the ground and toward Heaven, and hey, that ain't my call. Maybe Bambi? It was a squirrel, but he was a fat one, hadn't been run'd over 12 times. Swatted the flies away, tied the balloon - one scavenger hunt in the books!
"Cut a rug":
Thus, grabbed my boombox, back to Dollar Tree to buy 15 D batteries from Myrna.. to the Rancho Grande where I played "Macarena" and danced away on the sidewalk in front. Didn't see anyone I knew, but I wasn't worried, that's why I went and did this before they opened.
Down the parking lot to my personal bank.. Plopped the box down in the middle of the lobby, put in my favorite John, Paul, George and Ringo's "The best things in life are free, but you can keep them for the birds and the bees, Now give me money (that's what I want), now give me money (That's what I want.)" Teller Michelle kinda looked at me funny, but she knew from experience I like stupid jokes so she never dialed 911.
A real quick Fast Food array of 2-stepping (Mickey D's "you deserve a break today"...Pizza Hut "putt putt, the pizza hut".. and ah chihuahua Taco Bell for "Go to... taco taco taco taco taco taco Bell.' I was gonna swing by Arbys "We have the meat" but I had the runs, so... home.
"Shake up your sex life." Ahm.... next suggestion please.
"Do that one big thing. Is there one big action you've been holding back on that could turn your life from boring to amazing? Maybe it's a job change, a move, a proposal, a change of scenery, a new relationship in your life. Whatever it is, take that first step. Action creates momentum, and momentum builds excitement."
With all that said, I took that first big step to the bathroom. (Remember? I got the runs.)
This is maybe the worst blog ever, but it's kinda like Bill Self said after Snoop Dog shot dollar bills at KU players from an Adidas gun recently at their "Late Night at the Phog", "Even bad publicity is better than no publicity."
Thinking on my own, I watched CNN for 30 minutes (In Spanish), then, Fox News for 30 minutes (In French.)
Nap time. Me no likey Dr. Laura, but I do like her "No go take on the day."
I'd love to hear how you spiff up life. Call me, text me, message me, but gimme 42 minutes (average length of my naps.)
Happy day,
By Henry 'Spiff' Gibson
Love, Victurds - pun mebbe intended
Tuesday, October 08, 2019
Much ado about nothing.. peed in the pool..... sorry, kinda.
The yearn to write, to me, is kinda like "Oh a beer would taste good now", or, "my Kingdom for a 300 cheeseburger", or, "I really don't have anything to say, but I'm gonna talk anyways." Sorry, kinda.
So..... Whilst I could think of nothing to write about, I grabbed a beer, munched on a 300, and, am writing anyways.
About:
Nothing. Nothing in particular. Feel free to take the next exit if it doesn't appear to be your thing.
When texting, dependent upon my mood, I will (or will not) use correct punctuation. My buddy Tom will recognize/understand "Id go if you wld.".. or, "Isnt he Bills friend?" Then again, don't text as I do, text as I say 'cause I scrutinize every single one I receive for said punctuation, spelling errors. Must be my id, Id like to know. (I do redfacedly admit to texting a very nice lady "Wanna play Scrable? I'll kick your butt!" Geez)
Old age tells me, anywhere from 6 to 7 days before Uncle Sam's monthly SS direct deposit, something you need, breaks. I just returned from Wally World with a new coffee maker. Coffee is a need eh? Last month it was the battery light on my car coming on. Battery is a need yeah? "Ahm, Mr. Schultze, I'm sorry, both your battery and your alternator are bad." To the tune of almost $700. 40 years ago I woulda prolly cussed, ran to the bathroom, pretended to punch the sheet rock... now, I meekly replied "OK, do what ya gotta do." Never understood those that actually do punch sheet rock, since there are studs spaced every 16-24".. Guess I was never a stud.
Op Ed. To everyone who falls into the discrimination of Hispanics, vamanos. We had a mass shooting in KC, KS. 4 killed, 9 total shot in a bar that is essentially a Hispanic hang out. So..very..sad. I had the pleasure of carrying mail for two years in this neighborhood and I'm here to relate the folks living there are among the happiest, friendliest, hardest working people I've ever witnessed and friended. Yes, the neighborhood is not affluent. Yet, during the NALC Stamp Out Hunger National Food Drive, these folks filled my vehicle THREE times. I also got seedlings in terracotta pots, veggies from gardens, Christmas presents, thank you cards, and many, many a smile and warm greeting. F* discrimination. Sorry, scroll to Id.
Speakinowhich, you know when you go in retail joints and they have a bowl fulla suckers? Am I the only 66 yr old that delights in glee (and grabs one) when I see this? Kudos to establishments that, on their own dime, basically say "Have a nice day." Musta been hippies, or kids/grandkids of hippies. I reckon 'nice' is learned. And, mebbe excitedly grabbing one keeps one a kid at heart.
To all the girls I've loved before... no, that ain't it. To all you single old farts like me: (Victor, is this where you preach? Mebbe, but I moreso consider it "talking to/reminding me, hitchhikers welcome") A new goal of mine is to try to do one social thing a day. Be it the gym, church, the library, etc., or, heaven help us, a Happy Hour. Socializing is kinda like water... oxygen.. . or coffee.. or a battery, or an alternator - needed.
I am C+ when it comes to grammar. Lotta words fool me. Like, hitchhiker. Why ain't it simply hitchiker? Id know what it means. Or, granddaughter. Bookkeeper. A waste of ink, my opine. Sapphire? Big? Bigger.. Biggest. Hard to diggest. Hehe. Or, hehhee Id assume.
I was 8 years old and running with a dime in my hand.. In my hometown.. In my hometown. Sing it Bruce. I love my hometown. You? Businesses that have been here since Harry Truman was in office. HUGE tree lined Historic District streets. Cool, ever changing artwork on every corner on the Square.. Flowers, greenery, on each corner too. Fall Festivals, Homecoming, Friday night lights, Little League, dance studios where kids do move, buddies with similar mems within a ten minute drive. I ain't goin' nowhere. Unless, there is a 60-something, rich, divorced blonde that has a condo on The Gulf - or even Scottsdale would work. Message me as I ain't really got anything planned until April 2020.
Tis that time of year. I fall into the category of "that grumpy old man never turns on his porch light at Halloween." (Would that be porchhlight? And why ain't it Hallowween?).. Anyways, I liken all parents who say "I would never eat any of my kids candy" to those that say "I ain't never peed in the pool." Bonzi, you lie. Now, as grandparents, it's considered a no no. Forgive me Father, for I have peed in a pool - and I have an affinity for Milk Duds and Baby Snickers. My take, I want my grandkids to have nice teeth!
This blog, if you could see from my view, has 21 words above that are underlined in red. I tend to rebel on some things. I wish I could meet whomever it is at Microsoft that wrote the rules, is the IT person behind the scenes that does the red-underlining and exclaims "Bailiff, whack his pee pee." (Or would hat be Bailliff?).. Maybe Judy from Leave it to Beaver's class? Assuredly, this person never went to prom. Bitter. Probably a former hall monitor too. Like my old buddy Zeke I worked with at United Airlines. Come time to clock out, he took a magic marker and emphatically wrote a BIG "X" on that specific calendar day, as if to say "Take that you SOB." It ain't underlined, but shouldn't that be emphattically? Or, emphaticcally?
Other quick diddies of nothingness, coupled with old age: is it just me or do you ever get a song from an old TV show stuck in your head and you think for days about whatinthehell show it was from?... Do you too consistently make the same noise when you get up from the chair, or bed, or the squatter? I am a pirate, mine is "Arrrrrr". Yours?
Have you unfollowed someone on Facebook due to "I'm old, this person really gets on my nerves, I don't HAVE to do/see this?" Liar. You peed in the pool too didn't you? I think someone (the Microsoft soup nazi, or Judy maybe?) should invent something that, when someone pees in a pool, the urine will turn a sparkly neon color so everyone in the pool would know. Side note, country club where I work, they tell us to take the water sample from the deep end. I take that to mean', "kids pee in the shallow end, false reading." (Oh, except for you liars that say you've never peed in the pool.)
I'm out. Sorry this was boring and really pretty nonsensical. Boring and nonsensical kinda come with age I've noticed.
May you have a Happy day.. Unfollow "Judy's", spend ten minutes in line at the store buying twelve different kinds of lottery tickets (just to upset whippersnappers), go to drive up at Mickey D's during the lunch hour and respond "Can I have a minute to study the menu?"
Hug your grandDaughters and grandsons. Remember their teeth.
Don't pee in the pool.
Love, Victurdd
So..... Whilst I could think of nothing to write about, I grabbed a beer, munched on a 300, and, am writing anyways.
About:
Nothing. Nothing in particular. Feel free to take the next exit if it doesn't appear to be your thing.
When texting, dependent upon my mood, I will (or will not) use correct punctuation. My buddy Tom will recognize/understand "Id go if you wld.".. or, "Isnt he Bills friend?" Then again, don't text as I do, text as I say 'cause I scrutinize every single one I receive for said punctuation, spelling errors. Must be my id, Id like to know. (I do redfacedly admit to texting a very nice lady "Wanna play Scrable? I'll kick your butt!" Geez)
Old age tells me, anywhere from 6 to 7 days before Uncle Sam's monthly SS direct deposit, something you need, breaks. I just returned from Wally World with a new coffee maker. Coffee is a need eh? Last month it was the battery light on my car coming on. Battery is a need yeah? "Ahm, Mr. Schultze, I'm sorry, both your battery and your alternator are bad." To the tune of almost $700. 40 years ago I woulda prolly cussed, ran to the bathroom, pretended to punch the sheet rock... now, I meekly replied "OK, do what ya gotta do." Never understood those that actually do punch sheet rock, since there are studs spaced every 16-24".. Guess I was never a stud.
Op Ed. To everyone who falls into the discrimination of Hispanics, vamanos. We had a mass shooting in KC, KS. 4 killed, 9 total shot in a bar that is essentially a Hispanic hang out. So..very..sad. I had the pleasure of carrying mail for two years in this neighborhood and I'm here to relate the folks living there are among the happiest, friendliest, hardest working people I've ever witnessed and friended. Yes, the neighborhood is not affluent. Yet, during the NALC Stamp Out Hunger National Food Drive, these folks filled my vehicle THREE times. I also got seedlings in terracotta pots, veggies from gardens, Christmas presents, thank you cards, and many, many a smile and warm greeting. F* discrimination. Sorry, scroll to Id.
Speakinowhich, you know when you go in retail joints and they have a bowl fulla suckers? Am I the only 66 yr old that delights in glee (and grabs one) when I see this? Kudos to establishments that, on their own dime, basically say "Have a nice day." Musta been hippies, or kids/grandkids of hippies. I reckon 'nice' is learned. And, mebbe excitedly grabbing one keeps one a kid at heart.
To all the girls I've loved before... no, that ain't it. To all you single old farts like me: (Victor, is this where you preach? Mebbe, but I moreso consider it "talking to/reminding me, hitchhikers welcome") A new goal of mine is to try to do one social thing a day. Be it the gym, church, the library, etc., or, heaven help us, a Happy Hour. Socializing is kinda like water... oxygen.. . or coffee.. or a battery, or an alternator - needed.
I am C+ when it comes to grammar. Lotta words fool me. Like, hitchhiker. Why ain't it simply hitchiker? Id know what it means. Or, granddaughter. Bookkeeper. A waste of ink, my opine. Sapphire? Big? Bigger.. Biggest. Hard to diggest. Hehe. Or, hehhee Id assume.
I was 8 years old and running with a dime in my hand.. In my hometown.. In my hometown. Sing it Bruce. I love my hometown. You? Businesses that have been here since Harry Truman was in office. HUGE tree lined Historic District streets. Cool, ever changing artwork on every corner on the Square.. Flowers, greenery, on each corner too. Fall Festivals, Homecoming, Friday night lights, Little League, dance studios where kids do move, buddies with similar mems within a ten minute drive. I ain't goin' nowhere. Unless, there is a 60-something, rich, divorced blonde that has a condo on The Gulf - or even Scottsdale would work. Message me as I ain't really got anything planned until April 2020.
Tis that time of year. I fall into the category of "that grumpy old man never turns on his porch light at Halloween." (Would that be porchhlight? And why ain't it Hallowween?).. Anyways, I liken all parents who say "I would never eat any of my kids candy" to those that say "I ain't never peed in the pool." Bonzi, you lie. Now, as grandparents, it's considered a no no. Forgive me Father, for I have peed in a pool - and I have an affinity for Milk Duds and Baby Snickers. My take, I want my grandkids to have nice teeth!
This blog, if you could see from my view, has 21 words above that are underlined in red. I tend to rebel on some things. I wish I could meet whomever it is at Microsoft that wrote the rules, is the IT person behind the scenes that does the red-underlining and exclaims "Bailiff, whack his pee pee." (Or would hat be Bailliff?).. Maybe Judy from Leave it to Beaver's class? Assuredly, this person never went to prom. Bitter. Probably a former hall monitor too. Like my old buddy Zeke I worked with at United Airlines. Come time to clock out, he took a magic marker and emphatically wrote a BIG "X" on that specific calendar day, as if to say "Take that you SOB." It ain't underlined, but shouldn't that be emphattically? Or, emphaticcally?
Other quick diddies of nothingness, coupled with old age: is it just me or do you ever get a song from an old TV show stuck in your head and you think for days about whatinthehell show it was from?... Do you too consistently make the same noise when you get up from the chair, or bed, or the squatter? I am a pirate, mine is "Arrrrrr". Yours?
Have you unfollowed someone on Facebook due to "I'm old, this person really gets on my nerves, I don't HAVE to do/see this?" Liar. You peed in the pool too didn't you? I think someone (the Microsoft soup nazi, or Judy maybe?) should invent something that, when someone pees in a pool, the urine will turn a sparkly neon color so everyone in the pool would know. Side note, country club where I work, they tell us to take the water sample from the deep end. I take that to mean', "kids pee in the shallow end, false reading." (Oh, except for you liars that say you've never peed in the pool.)
I'm out. Sorry this was boring and really pretty nonsensical. Boring and nonsensical kinda come with age I've noticed.
May you have a Happy day.. Unfollow "Judy's", spend ten minutes in line at the store buying twelve different kinds of lottery tickets (just to upset whippersnappers), go to drive up at Mickey D's during the lunch hour and respond "Can I have a minute to study the menu?"
Hug your grandDaughters and grandsons. Remember their teeth.
Don't pee in the pool.
Love, Victurdd
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