Pockets........

Dated a gal that wanted (pretty much 'had to have') pockets in any dress she purchased, wore.

Men.  We men, we generally clean out pockets when we go to the washing machine to pull the load of clothes out to switch to the dryer.  Sadly, I guess, true.

Today, when I think of lasses, I think of young gal wearing jeans, big ole phone tucked away in one of the two back pockets.  Ya hardly ever see men with phones in the back pocket, and, if ya stop and think about it, doesn't make sense we put em in the front pocket because 'there's stuff in the way' up there. Trivial.

Butt.  For years, we men did keep our wallets in one of the back pockets.  I'm guessing, some chiropractor somewhere finally figured out "ya know, you wouldn't have these back, hip, sleep deprivation problems if you simply didn't keep your wallet back there. Looks weird to keep in the front pocket.  There's stuff up there.  Is what it is, trivial - but, butt, at least now your back doesn't hurt, you don't need an alignment, or Sominex or a gummie to snooze.

Most men.  Scroll 40 years ago, yes, a perty decent chunk of working men wore suit coats.  Ain't the way now.  Thus, I have one nifty suit coat hanging in my closet. Weddings and funerals, that's what it's reserved for.  I save the literature from each, in the inside pockets of my suit. Sometimes a sad reminder, sometimes a needed reminder, sometimes "heck, he/she is on his/her second mate since that wedding."

Arnie.  Arnie was a really good dude. Pretty good athlete.  Back in the day, he'd have a ballgame where he'd get three hits in four at bats, but what stuck out to him was the time he overthrew first base and the runner advanced all the way to third on accounta him.  Victory or defeat, Arnie would trudge home a little heavier.  As if he were putting lead BB's in his pocket.  Weighted him down.

Arnie was actually a very good student.  Graduated third in a class of 275 students.  He won all kindsa honors in debate, two spelling bees and was delighted when he was selected to help grade school kids with their beginning reading. Arnie admittedly sucked in science.  Eh, some do.  Some don't.  What Arnie remembered from school though, was, in his junior year, being handed back a Biology test with a D- grade on it, and the Biology teacher kinda-sorta mentioning under his breath Arnie would never amount to much in life.  Over the years, when strife would happen, he'd hear that again, and put more BB's in his pockets.

Arnie met Angie, head over heels he was. She too. Fast forward 18 months, 250 people at their wedding, a kajillion wedding picks, and enough money from the bride 'dollar-dances' to fly to Costa Rica for their honeymoon.  Yum.  Life, it be good. Fast forward anudder 120 months, a curly headed 6 year old daughter, gorgeous dimples, and a right nifty bouncing baby boy, almost two. Been awhile since Arnie put anymore BB's in his pockets.

Then.  The company where Arnie worked got bought out.  He, and half of the workers at the plant, were told 'Sayonara.' Years of never having arguments were now encased in argue on a regular basis.  It can get kinda stressy when unemployment nears an end, the mortgage is a month late and the fridge ain't got much in it. Sold their home so as not to lose it, moved into a 2 bedroom apartment. Ne'er a moment to sit in the living room by one's self, have a beer on the back porch without all the noise, banter of every day life.  Arnie, and Angie, filled their pockets to the gills with BB's.

Arnie was wonderful in math, but, he/Angie didn't think much ahead when they separated, he got an apartment too when they couldn't even afford the one Angie and the kids were living in. Try as he might to remember exactly where/when/why (the happy stuff) they fell in love - the burden of the BB's drug Arnie down.

Arnie's brother Archie was a wonderful basketball player.  A so-so student, Arch had to work very hard to finally make the Honor Roll as a sophomore. He knew what Arnie's Biology teacher had said - and he tried helping Arnie, "heck Arnie, they all think I'm really something on the basketball court, I can't even dribble to my left and make a lefthanded layup." Arnie appreciated the thought, yet still, more BB's in his pockets.

Archie's junior year he won both the Hustle Award and the Most Improved Player Award in basketball.  The coach he had as a sophomore, now off coaching in another city, had told Arch "you'll struggle to ever start on the basketball team here."  Kinda drove Arch. He outworked everyone.  It was as if he was putting helium in his pockets to rise above.

Arch met Amy, head over heels. Eventually he got on a knee, proposed.  Amy said "heck yeah", and her folks said "hey, it's completely your call, but we'll pay for a huge wedding and not be able to give you any funds to start your marriage, or, pay for a very small, mostly family wedding and we'll give you $15,000 to get a leg up." Small wedding it was, big ole celebration (BYOB AND food) at the City Park for all after they returned from the honeymoon.

Three kids, boom, boom, boom... Arch teased "Honey, let's have a basketball team"... "Well, that could be 'V' for Victory, but I'd really rather see 'V' for vasectomy.  And so it was, viva la deferens.

Arch/Amy had many of the same problems along the way that Arnie and Angie did. It was all kinda sorta how they outwardly handled them, choosing helium in their pockets insteada loading their lives down with BB's.

(Blogger's note.. it's 6:55am.  I was supposedta work at 7:30, but, text last night "Supposed to rain, you have the day off".  So, just now, told "if you can't make it, all good, but it's not supposed to start raining now until 4pm or so, we're planning on opening at 8am."  So, blog writer need to finish NOW!)

Moral of the story.  Forget hot air, BB's.  Chose helium along the way.  Rise up.  Shit (sorry) happens.  To all of us. At some time, or another.  Smile. Laugh. Love.  Especially love the mirror.  Not to the conceited point, but to the point where "yeah, I can handle this."

If that don't work, cut a damn hole in your pocket so the BB's will roll out.

Love, Victurd