Clock on the wall........

When the clock on the wall says "time to get up... and go", then, and if, you're a young sprite, reckon ya better. Hope ya wanna, kinda helps making everything happier, easier.  DO question much, including clock on the wall telling you time to get up 'cause wall clocks don't do that, alarm clocks do...  and whatever kinda fancified things they got nowadays to awaken one.

When the clock on the wall says 5pm Friday, go... frolic... squeeze as much as you can into them two days and be sure it includes a dose of R&R, a heapin' helpin' of family, and a pinch of friendship.

Clock on the wall tells you you're 65.  Run, don't walk.  Get the heck outta there. OK OK.  I know things have changed, age for SS has changed. I hate when old people tell me what to do BUT get the heck out if you can. If it makes economic sense, you have health insurance, yada. It is literally one the best feelings in the world to have very, very few 'haveta's'.......

Clock on the wall says it's a friend on the call... answer.. go.. do.. rejoice. Friends are like oxygen, sunshine and coffee.  Hell to the yeah.

The clock on the wall WAY UP THERE tells you there's a young'n, way down there a tuggin' on your shirt.  Listen, go, do. Trust me, I can (and have at times) been onea the most selfish folks there ever was... sometimes a young'n will tug and you immediately think "oh man, I was gonna take a nap, go sit in the jacuzzi, sauna.. grab a 300 burger.. do what I wanna, no 'haveta's', well.. ya gotta.  It's easier to tell your hound, as you walk to the door, "sorry, next time...I promise".. or your honey.. ."Babe, it's the grandkids."  But ya can't, ya can't disappoint them little ones. They grow too fast.  We age too fast.  The combo ain't great, but it's what we're faced with.  Go, do.  No regrets. Grands are like oxygen, sunshine, coffee, Cinnamon Toast Crunch and vanilla ice cream, WITH a cherry on top.

Clock on the wall says "hey, don't forget YOU!"  And, we shouldn't. It's a perfectly good recipe to have a cup or ten of selfish.  Them soles on the bottoma the shoes belong to our souls, follow Nancy Sinatra's advice... are ya ready boots?  Start walkin....

Fido... or Figaro..  Sure ya can't forget 'em. Rub a head.  Pet a belly. Throw a ball. Tease with a feather. They're on your lap?  Then don't be so all-fired in a hurry to get up..  let 'em sink in. Time, no regrets.

Clock on the wall says "no forgetty great music".... wonderful spirits... a dark chocolate kiss.. a regular kiss!..  heck, if it's them little tuggers, make a big ole s'more!

The clocks a spinnin'..... keep on grinnin....

Watch out for poop!

Huh?  Yeah, poop. Pets have troubles sometimes... grands too... heck, even us old farts sometimes ain't so sure it was an old fart...  But... or, is that Butt...

But, the poop I'm talking about is yuck. Unhappy, bad mood, in too bigga hurry to see/smile, there ain't no 'gottas' in such a hurry we can't keep smiling, composed... the line at Mickey D's takes 20 minutes?  So, it takes 20 minutes.  Think about the last time you had.. VICTOR!  Hey, I wasn't finished. I was gonna say a scrumptious, fall off the bone BBQ rib.. yeah, that's it.

Poop happens everywhere.. real life.. home.. work.. in retail stores... on the phone.. on Facebook... even on the car windows as they sit beneath the walnut tree. Clock on the wall says baby smirk, that's all. No letty poop drive you down the brown brick road. Sorry. Kinda.

Clock on the wall.  Ya just never know when it will stop. Cheap batteries at the $1 Tree, er, I mean at the $1.25 Tree?  Electric cord plugged in with onea them fancified generators to backup should the power go out? Seen diesel?  Uh huh, over $5 a gal... We never, ever know when the clock will stop.

Ain't preachin', just reachin', for the best life. Hopscotch around little turds on the walk... Keep the reservoir fulla that blue stuff so youewindshield wipers can remove it in a millisec... No fall victim to 'wanna rassle' about politics, religion, this, that, other stuff?

Yes, we are human, but we get but one chance. I vote yummy, or at least try.

I've got a dance, I ain't got no steps, no
I'm gonna let the music move me around
I've got a dance, I ain't got no steps
I'ma gonna let the music move me around

Will it go 'round in circles?
Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky?
Will it go 'round in circles?
Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky?

The clock WILL stop.  Estate sales will happen.  Any remaining monies handed out, eventually gone. We're in the ground, or atop if ashed. At this point, it's too late.  We're but left to hopefully cross through the brains of those we oh so loved in our given time.

I know I've tucked that little 3"x5" card into my suit pocket more than a time or fifty as I leave a service.  Traversing from the chapel to the car... thoughts always turn to... summation of that life.  It is so, so wonderful to remember things like "I don't think I ever saw her without a smile on her face."  "He was so calm, I don't ever remember him getting bent outta shape."  "Wow... the love of children, loved ones.. friends..."

We're human, we'll slip, clock on the wall says "happens to all."  Living, loving, laughing, smiling while the clock ticks is the best.  Friends, loved ones, coworkers, acquaintances, and them little tuggers make it so much easier.

"Excuse me...  do you happen to have the time?"

Love, Victurd