The Border War…..

When the Chiefs lost to Green Bay in Super Bowl I, this lad was devastated. We thought the old AFL was as good as the NFL - but after that game, we doubted ourselves. Thankfully, the very first preseason game the next year we whipped up on the Chicago Bears 60-something to not-very-many….

The 1964 Cardinals. Yessiree Bob. (Pre-Royals - and I’m still a Cardinal fan TOO at heart.) I will never forget that World Series…

The 1969-70 Chiefs football season culminated with a victory in Super Bowl IV. Living literally across the street from where they trained - and being a huge sport’s fan - THIS was heaven.

In my dresser drawer - I own a T-Shirt that says “Kansas City Royals, 1980 World Champions.”… (If you’re not a sport’s historian - the Royals lost the the Philadelphia Phillies in that World Series… I’d bought the shirt I anticipation we’d win.. But I still find it a keepsake.)

1985, whoever could forget. The Royals came from 3-1 deficits in the playoffs AND the World Series - to defeat the BlueJays and then the Cardinals - to win the World Championship. I had $260 in savings that year.. Sent it all in for the ticket drawing in hopes of just seeing one game… Lo and behold I got tickets to each and every game. Game 7 of the World Series - I sat in the VERY last row of the upper deck, albeit right behind home plate. Cross-state rivals, the St. Louis Cardinals… I was dressed in a blue shirt that had a pic of the State of Missouri on it - and I’d chickenscratced on it “May the WEST team win.”

Our small town - 1997, observed a 31-0 run to the Missouri State Basketball Championship that will probably never be matched.

It’s been soooooooooooooo long since we’ve wanted to be in the National Eye (What??? Someone nearby won a National College Basketball Championship somewhere there in between? Really?) Hehe…

This weekend. If you’ve been under a rock… 10-1 MU plays 11-0 KU in Arrowhead. Final game of the regular season. KU is ranked #2 nationally, MU #4. Winner would go on the the Big 12 Championship game - and if a win there, a certainty to play in the National Championship Game.

This game’s even bigger than that. We MU-KU folks co-exist. We share 435, 35, 69, Westport, Zona Rosa, the Sprint Center, Bass Pro, Municipal Auditorium, Bartle, casino’s, the dog track, the race track, the weather forecast, the News channels - but there’s hatrid for this.

My own office desk is adorned with a picture of a two-story outhouse. The door to the top level is labeled “MU fans” and the door to the lower level “KU fans.”

All my life, each and every time I hear a “chickenhawk” fan who lives in Missouri speak about “their Jayhawks” - I thank them for their tax dollars to build our facilities at MU.

The local paper probably labeled it pretty close in that KU people label Mizzou fans: gun-toting, ignorant, jealous losers. MU fans label KU fans: latte-sipping, wine-drinking, nose-in-the airsnobs.” Yeah, that’s probably right.

Our local paper also had a little history diddie regarding the Missouri-Kansas Border War - and pretty much stated the trouble started back in 1850 when Missouri was pro-slavery, the Nebraska-Kansas act was taking place to admit both to the Union - and Kansas wanted to be a Free-State (no slavery.)

This article has only fueled the fires more.. While in part it’s true - Missouri (from every article I read) never officially committed either way during the Civil War - and there were clashes within between both sides.

In fairness to the Star, the paper did point out that there were raids in Missouri (by Kansans) and that many of the men in Quantrill’s party (they raided Lawrence, other towns) had atrocities happen to their families in Missouri.

But that’s off the subject… kinda…

KU pukes (said with love) will wear their “Muck Fizzou” t-shirts. There’s estimated to be roughly 100,000 tailgaters Saturday (the stadium holds 60-something)… All week we’ll read articles, hear stories about it.. The NCAA and the Big 12 have recorded both coaches doing TV ‘spots’ reinforcing the fact “it’s just a game.”

I’m getting so hyped up about it - I even sent a comment to the Star’s blog site about the game. To me, it’s all about fun. I don’t really hate KU, or their teams, or their students, or their fans - -this is just what I’ve grown up with - and have latched onto. And I’m thankful I have. They see us as degenerates, we see them as spoiled-rotten.

Yes, I realize I put my heart out there on the line with the potential of it being yanked, tugged, torn, broken. Kinda that way with almost everything though. Mates. Kids. Work. Friends. Even our own self image.

We, in our lifetime, will probably never witness a bigger MU-KU football game - where we each had so much on the line. I somehow made it thru the loss in Super Bowl I… It tugged at my heart in 1980 when Tug threw the winning strike against the Royals…

To be quite honest - I’ll be Ok.. But it’s truly my hope we Missouri Tigers kick some Jayhawk (WHAT THE HELL KINDA BIRD IS THAT?) ass.. Gosh darn “no dirt under my fingernail” Roy Williams “I’m staying” Bert Coan cheatin’ “Well… I am a KU BASKETBALL fan” Johnson County -Jewell Ball - “119th and Metcalf” uppity- pretty boy - “Our coach can eat your coach” sumbitches…

I will be an MU fan the moment after, and long after, the completion of this game. I’m living it, and I’m thankful for that. Actually, I love it. Close your ears: I even rooted for KU to go undefeated to this point so the little “yank” would hurt that much more.

Brb, going to go to Wally World to buy me onea them “Big 12 North Champions” tshirts. Seeya Saturday.

"Every True Son"

Every true son, so happy hearted,
Skies above us are blue,
There's a spirit so deep within us,
Old Missouri here's to you (rah rah!);
When the band plays the Tiger war song,
And when the fray is through,
We will tramp, tramp, tramp, around the columns,
With a cheer, for Old Mizzou!

Hit it, Hooray, Hurrah,
Mizzou, Mizzou,
Hooray, Hurrah,
Mizzou, Mizzou,
Hooray, Hurrah,
And a "Bully" for Ol' Mizzou,
Rah, Rah, Rah, Rah,
Mizzou-rah, Mizzou-rah, Mizzou-rah,
Tigers!

"Fight Tigers"

Fight, Tigers, fight for Old Mizzou,
Right behind you, everyone is with you,
Break the line and follow down the field,
And you'll be, on the top, upon the top;
Fight, Tigers, you will always win,
Proudly keep the colors flying skyward,
In the end we'll win the victory,
So Tigers, fight for Old Mizzou!

Love, VicTigerTurd…..

Some stuff I never could figure out.

Why does a really rich older couple buy a house with six bedrooms?

Why, whenever Yahoo, MSN, Microsoft, etc., come up with their newest addition, why does it take four clicks for what used to take you two?

If we’re so progressive, why do we now pay for TV, radio and bottled water?

Why does the guy who shoots another guy get his mugshot allover the News - we watch him walk handcuffed into the jail - we hear his name twenty-two times, but we never see the doctors and nurses (or hear their names) who worked miraculously to save the guy that got shot?

I dunno if true in all offices - but why is it the people who make the most are there the least?

If there’s a law against crossing over a single solid white line on the Interstate - why do we now use Double solid white lines along with the wording “will be strictly enforced”?

(Victor, you’re sounding old on this one) Why is it that people don’t practice the “stay one car length back for every 10 mph“? For real, you ever notice how many rear-enders involve like 3, 4, 5 cars?

If people who’ve given their life to the Lord go to heaven, and sinners go to hell - where do the resta the people go?

If deer only mate during the months of October and November… and some big buck observes some ravishing doe with a wonderful booty walk by in April - what’s he thinking?

Why are white grapes green? Why is red zinfandel white? Them grape dudes are all messed up.

When they invented words - what were they drinking when the spelled and pronounced colonel… onomatopoeia… Gucci…. Scissors.. Jujitsu.. Bissextile ß means leap years.. Paxwax ß neck ligament.. Fungi… heffalumps… Bunghole.. Tittynope ß refers to a small quantity of anything left over… Hmm. Had I been playing Jeopardy I woulda said “what are you bound to hear on your first date?”.. tittynope…

Why do some continually come back to this blog?

YEAH… it’s the WEEKEND! Hope urs is fun.. And if there’s “stuff you never could figure out” - PLEASE SHARE. Happy Saturday, love, Victurd.

Revisiting yesterday…. Or…… denial of today???

You kid? Me, I’m a big kid. I’ve grown up observing Stand By Me, Parenthood, Leave it to Beaver, Christmas Story, George Jetson, Home Alone, Bad News Bears…etc… and I’ve come to the Victurd consensus - life as a kid ain’t bad.

Victor Immature? Probably. Regrets? Doubtful.

Lemme askya: would you rather “hold court” as a PE teacher with a group of Second graders… line them up on one sidea the gym.. .and ask them to move to the other sidea the gym as if they were… say… elephants.. or snakes… or deer… or laughing hyena’s… or… turkeys… OR… sit in a cubicle and route trucks all day… Uh huh, what I thought.

Yes, I’m wayyyyyyyyyyyyy past the age of Bar Mitzvahs, confirmations, debutante balls - sorry… can’t help it… I wanna play. And do. And will. And am.

Could this be one reason why I’ve been thru two marriages - and both ending with her saying arevaderche?” Mebbe. But, if you believe that, I’m taking my GD (gosh darn) ball and going home.

Sorry, still feel that way. Kids don’t know racism. Kids don’t know ethnic discrimination. Kids no comprende socio-economic inequities. Kids are accepting of the vast difference in learning ability amongst souls.. Kids hug… Kids smile… Kids are bright-eyed… Kids are real.. Kids don’t hold back thoughts… Kids are givers… Kids are wide-eyed observers..

We all, seriously, could learn from kids.

All of the above is probably one very good reason I’ve never made it occupationally much higher than whatever the next level up is to entry level. I very seriously take what I do for a living - but within - I love to throw in kid-stuff. We need, in life, respites. Children are all about respites. To me, the phrase “that’s childish” needs observation.

When one thinks “that’s childish” - to me it’s the thought of a kid, arms folded across chest, bottom lip quivering, brooding over not getting his/her way. But too, I think it can be a good ribbing (done in fun, not demeaning) of a co-worker.. Perhaps semi-cranking the CD you are playing illegally [I hate IT rules].. Putting up fun sayings/pics in your office space… Or.. Maybe just asking co-workers to share stories about their kids.. That kinda childish stuff rocks… rules even…

Life, in going thru all the learning facets, can be fun, bewildering, trying, tedious, bewitching, a sonofabitch, hurtful, tearful, joyous, monumental, educational, destructive, instructive, sad, happy… simply said, et al.

Children are resilient. They get well as quick as they get ill. Feelings hurt can be smiles in three minutes. Snarls can turn to hugs in the time it takes to down a Hostess Twinkie. How good does a hug from a kid feel? They role model giving…

We here on planet earth are reminded so often to learn from our elders - and that’s wise, wise advice. (Do you hear me you younger sumbitches Misty? Lisa? Why, even Nancy?)… But too.. we need to remind ourselves we can learn from kids.

It doesn’t take an $80,000 job to teach life lessons. You needn’t have a three-car garage to learn to be acceptant of diversity. If you live month-to-month like so many of us - it doesn’t take a whole lot to make life fun.

Kids say the darndest things. We should listen attentively when they do, for perhaps we could grow ourselves…. Seeya. I’m off with some chalk.. Gonna either do the hopscotch thing.. or… go write on the sidewalk “Jana and Jeff… sittin’ in a tree… K-I-S-S-I-N-G”… Ain’t decided yet. That’s the fun part of being a kid. Decisions aren’t have to’s.. and even if you pick the wrong one - life is still fun!

Happy day, love, Victurd.

Mark, set, go.

Ok biotches (biotches, said with VERY much love)… here it is….

I come to this GD (Gol’ dang) monitor - and I freeze. I sit. I think. Clever. Victor, it’s gotta be clever or get ur ass up. I can’t thinka clever, so I get my ass up. I sit. I think. Victor, it’s gotta by symbolic - make a point. Then I can’t thinka symbolic, can’t think of a point.

So here I is. Rapid fire. Toppa the brain.

Observations from this 5’11” bod……

Life is about choice. I drag my ass into work every day. 99 times outta 100, I wear sunglasses, giving out the “leave me the F alone” look. Then, lady pulls into front spot. She weighs, honest to goodness, 350-400 lbs. It’s labor to walk. So big, she really can’t bend at the joints. You can just tell, each and every step in life is a struggle, comes with "ouches." And ya know what? Her face is always plastered with a smile. You can race her to say “hello” / “good morning”.. but you’ll rarely win. Choices. We have choices.

Holidays. Just had an email from a friend - who recently has lost her mother. Damn do I know that one. “Not looking forward to the Holidays.” And I completely understand. And, quite truthfully, they will never be quite the same.

HOWEVER. Eyes open, observe, smile, enjoy, admire - others that are now in the stage you/I once were - and take pleasure in the fact they’re living what you/I once lived - and how GD (Gol dang) special that is/was.)

Chicken Fat. To those born since Reagan was in office, you’ll have no idea whatinthehell that means. To us old farts - ‘twas a record (45 to be exact) that was played and played and played over and over and over again in PE class - whilst we did pushups (“every morning”) ten times (“not just now and then”)… “give that chicken fat BACK to the chicken, and don’t be chicken again..”

But now… Even though I’m fairly well entrenched in another binge of exercise/spandex watching - I don’t sweat it if I don’t make it to the gym. Eh, if I miss doing the elliptical for 60 minutes this week - who gives a rats… it may take one day offa my life, but whoever liked Thursdays anyways. Besides, I wakeup feeling fabulous nowadays.

Children. Rejoice in children. The last 48 hours I’ve heard some real “s-h-I-t” stories about absent parents. Their loss. I don’t see how one can turn the back. Once a parent, it’s a lifetime kinda thing - no matter how they may get off the path upon occasion. I’ve hearda abandonment at birth - all the way to abandonment at age 22... Uh huh… my ex, her son… he’s 22... Lives in same town… seen him once in two years… Sad, pretty damn sad.

Youth… Immerse yourself… Youth doesn’t know color, power, stature, riches. Youth are the true evaluators of “good people”. I say, smother yourself in youth. By youth, I simply mean someone younger. Oh sure, be nice to old farts your/my age - but form bonds too with young pups. Many today throw digs at the “I want what I want and I want it now” belief of our youth - but it’s my belief - youth today want/need older friends (and enjoy them) now, more than ever.

Squirm. It’s Ok to squirm. Not long ago, I mouthed off about saying that for the very first time I sputtered “I like working with you”… and I did… and she responded in kind. Then, I had a “open mouth, insert foot” moment - where this person made a mistake at work, I verbally said to another basically “it wasn’t me, it was her” and I wish I’da had the fitty-five yr old maturity I should have by now and never ever said it. So I squirm. No, it’s not ok. I shouldn’t have said what I said - but I did - and I must live with it - and with her lessened trust… but… taking the positive - it’s a teacher for tomorrow. I fucked up. There’s no taking back. There’s no “I’m sorry” and we retreat to life as it was in October. What’s done is done. So again, the lesson I take - open mouth - think about what one is about to say before it leaps out. Once out, there's no taking it back - no matter how many "Sorry"s follow.

Idle time. I wish I had more constructive ways to spend idle time - and if you gots ideas, I’m all ears.

You shits you. Have you penned that letter to someone you really admired - and written it as if you’re one foot in the grave? Gotta tell’em now?.. Me neither. But, I do have a list. Short one. But a list. Lord please help me to follow thru before I pee my pants and forget my name.

Called anyone just to say “hey”? You shits you. I haven’t either. Talk a good game don’t I?

Looked around at the timea year and all God has to offer? This one I have. And I marvel every day. Tis wondrous to watch the change.. I worked for years in the airline industry where folks disgustedly were ‘force’ transplanted here. The bitches and the moans you heard the first couplea years - soon were turned into “oooohs” and “aahhhhs” by year three. “This region is a pretty nice secret.” Yes. Yes it is.

Relationships. Victor, you haven’t mentioned relationships. Some things - it just ain’t the right time. And today, the week before Thanksgiving 2007, just ain’t the right time. I know the old sand is going thru the hourglass - tis ok. If I get there, I get there. If I don’t - it’s been a blast.

May you have smiles, orgasms, good thoughts, take pictures with your eyes… when you screw up (like me) - beat yourself up - but… only momentarily - and learn from it… don’t forget to start the day with a smile.. Wing a few at others thru the day…and retire with a smile in the mirror - knowing you’ve given at least a 75% effort to make your own life good.

Love, Victurd.

Gimme head with hair, Long beautiful hair, Shining, gleaming,

Streaming, flaxen, waxen

Thanks again Chuck Shepherd: “Medical student Wes Pemberton was scheduled to be officially measured in October in Tyler, Texas, for his upcoming spot in the Guinness Book of World Records. He told KLTV that he has a leg hair 5.0 inches long, surpassing the incumbent record of 4.88 inches. Pemberton said that his prize hair is growing amidst other normal-length hair, and that he has been treating it with conditioner to keep it strong for the measuring.” [KLTV (Tyler, Tex.), 10-9-07]

Eww…

Now that’s a bit far-fetched – but, why is it us men get these weirdo hairs in the weirdest of places… I’ll be going along merrily in life – walk into the bathroom at home.. four 75 Watt bulbs reveal a ½ long ear hair that’s been growing for goodness knows however long. Embarrassing.

My father.. He did the comb-over. Even in his 80’s, he never gave into the fact there was crop failure on top. Don’t blame him. Kinda got that “I’ll be damned if I’m gonna get old” modus operand meself…

I once had a damn hair sprout out from on toppa my nose, mid-nose… I’d close one eye and see it.. and it appeared to be like 12 inches long. I tried and tried to find it with my fingers – never could. Bugged the literal hell outta me.. Finally this chicky I was dating pulled it – showed it to me (it was like 1/16th of an inch) and said “here’s that looooong hair that’s been bugging you. Hmmm.

Ever browse at pics from the 70’s? Wow.. even the teachers got in the act.. If you didn’t have long hair – you were either in the military or a Hare Krishna.. I know I’ve mentioned before I had this WONDERFUL English professor in college who got a great big kick outta walking up behind me, tapping me on the shoulder and exclaiming “Excuse me… ma’am?”.. I loved/hated her!

Women and the hair “down there.” Weird. See? Hair is weird!.. Only her hairdresser (and bf/hubby/esthetician) know for sure. I hear tell of like ‘cuts’ of hearts, landing strips, diamonds, and even a shamrock in March.. Me, I have no preference.. in fact.. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen… ah, nevermind! One more thing.. why is hair “there” kinky, and on toppa the head straight?

Bald is beautiful. Sure. Whatinthehell else are you gonna say? Although, will admit, on some it looks cool. I usedta pelt my son whenever he got on my nerves – I’d say “remember.. baldness skips a generation.” Damned if he didn’t Google that – and learn your hair fortune, or lack thereof, generally comes from your mother’s side…

I, of kinda reddish hair. Our family had zilcho reddish hair, so for years I was teased about “the milkman.. the grocer.. the hairdresser” all being potential DNA contributers to me..

Victor, you tell the same stuff over and over. I know – I’m old! When I was 16.. passed driving test. Lady behind the typewriter at the license bureau.. “Height?” 5’10”… “Weight?”.. 160 <- I really did weigh that once!.. “Eyes?” Blue.. “Hair?”.. gee, I ain’t sure what you call it… Sandy I guess… so… get license in mail.. Hair marked “BLD”… I AM NOT BALD!.. or.. mebbe I was/am for sure BLONDE…

Big Hair… Mullets… Army cuts… Mohawks.. Ducktails… The “Tye” look from Extreme Makeover.. His hair looks like a yard that has frost on it and it’s moved every which way – but nonea the blades in the same direction. Bed hair… Crew cut.. Afro… Dreads.. Remember Dorothy Hamill?...

Armpit hair, or lack thereof… Oh the dreadful days of “forced” showers in 7th grade PE. Cruel, people of that age are cruel! I remember when I was in HS, playing basketball… well… I’m pretty fair-skinned.. and it’s not like I ain’t got armpit hair – it just looks like I ain’t because it’s so light.. so… I was embarrassed to shoot!... Lo and behold the GD yearbook comes out – and there I was – a full page picture… shooting… with no apparent armpit hair. Yuck! I wanted to hide!

My sister usedta spend hours on end on her hair. If I’d come into the bathroom whilst she was in there… she usedta get my goat with “Ohhh Vanda… you’re soooo beautiful”.. and me, the skinny redheaded 9 yr old wanted to puke!... (She did have pretty hair, and she was pretty – but still, made a 9 yr old wanna puke!).. It was always “Ohhhh Vanda is getting soooooo pretty.. and my, isn’t Victor growing!”..

Hair is weird, we’ve established. If you’re underweight, you can eat. If you’re overweight, you can workout. If you’re fair-skinned, you can tan. You can put on make up.. we can bend, shape, mold most everything, up to and including changing the damn color of our eyes… but – with the exception of coloring, and styling – we’re pretty much damned stuck with our hair, or lack thereof.

Some say I should feel blessed because my hair’s still reasonably thick, and it’s all still the same color. I say, I hate this widow’s peak or preacher’s something-or-other in front, ‘cause it’s nasty to deal with!.. If I don’t get it cut so often, I end up looking like Moe of the 3 Stooges..

What are your hair stories? Ever color it? Iron it? Cut it yourself? Are you a parent and have ever pulled your hair out? Could you ever be so in love you’d consider trimming your mates eyebrows?.. Ever get into a chick/chick brawl where you’re pulling and tugging insteada throwing blows? Ever caught your hair in the blender? The garbage disposal? Longest you’ve ever had it?.. Whaddaya figure, on the course of a year, how much dough you spend on your hair? I’m the $8.95 coupon Snip-N-Clip kinda guy. “#6 on the sides, blend the top.” Same ole same ole. Boring, but it’s me..

Remember Brill Cream? Dippity do? What’s the longest heada hair? I thought you’d never ask! 18 ft 5.54 in, Xie Qiuping of Guangxi Province, China… wow, I hope she’s ok Qiuping with that much hair.. Hell you wouldn’t need a blanket in winter. If she didn’t like her mate, she could strangle and claim “whoops, slipped.. so sorry.”

Ok, enough outta this ole scissorbill… I’m gonna cut it off now… May you have good hair days… May you have hair.. or, reckon if it’s your choice not to, your choice.

Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow it
My hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow it
My hair

Love, Victurd.

Two feel goods....

I’ve read the Kansas City Star since the days they separated Help Wanted by Help Wanted Male, Help Wanted Female… I’m sorry to admit I’d not gotten “turned on” to C.W Gusewelle’s columns until just a little while back….

This morning’s story actually in some ways reminded me of this blog. Absolutely not tooting own horn - more admitting that I’ve written about down times - and try to follow with plans of attack to combat those times…

He starts the article today with “For everyone alive there comes that occasional day when the heart’s sky is clouded and some kind of lift - a bit of inspiration - is sorely needed….. I’m not immune to that universal affliction, though I’m glad to say I’ve found a dependable remedy.. Two remedies in fact, both of them stored safely away in this hateful machine - a computer - upon which the worst disease, called progress, obliges me to write..”

He then relates two stories… the first of Paul Potts.. “a 36 year old amateur singer who won the Britain’s Got Talent competition and, virtually overnight, became an international sensation…. Employed at a Carphone Warehouse, he came on stage, painfully shy, a bit portly, with a broken-toothed smile and wearing an awful thrift-store suit - and announced he would sing opera…” Get the Kleenex out, copy and paste.. And enjoy (If the link doesn't work, go to Google, type John Potts - and watch the YouTube version of his initial performance):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1k08yxu57NA

Part two…Jason McElwain.. An autistic boy who, as a 17-yeard old senior, was manager and coach’s helper for the basketball team at his high school in Rochester, NY… As a reward for his loyalty, Jason was allowed to suit up for the final game. I was really only a kind gesture. But, with just four minutes left on the clock, the coach actually sent him onto the court.”… I won’t spoil the rest… Again, watch and enjoy…

(The path for Jason's story is below - please enjoy the video... Thanks so much Mr. Gusewelle... again, if the link doesn't work - go to Google and type in Jason McElwain) Happy “Ups”… Love, Victurd

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2006/02/23/earlyshow/main1339324.shtml

Yesterday.....

Taking a day off today.. But.. figured I'd do up something... kinda had fun searching back thru 'yesterday'... Most of us have been around long enough to witness the below.. and it leaves one wondering what tomorrow will bring... Happy reading...

1997... World mourns loss of Princess Dianna… TWA Flight 800, a Boeing 747 bound for Paris, exploded shortly after takeoff from New York… Timothy McVeigh and Terry Nichols convicted for their roles in the Oklahoma City bombing… Jeff Gordon won the Winston Cup (wow)… Bill was in office, and in the humidor… 21 year old Tiger Woods wins his first major… Michael Jordan led the NBA in scoring for the 9th time, and led the Bulls to their 5th NBA title… 27 yr old Brett Favre led the Packers to a Super Bowl win.. Dolly, the ewe, was cloned… On New Year’s Eve, gasoline was $1.30 per gallon… Ground beef was $.89-$1.40 a lb.... ER, Seinfeld, Suddenly Susan, Friends.. Life expectancy women 79.9 years, men 74.3 years… Bell Bottoms made a brief return… More and more wearing vintage fashion.. Showing skin also has become more fashionable - Mid-drift tops, spaghetti-strapped tops and min-skirts…

1987 The Cosby Show, Family Ties, Cheers, Murder - She Wrote… NY Giants beat Denver in Super Bowl XXI, .. Supreme Court rules Rotary Club must admit women… Postage stamp .22 Top movies: Moonstruck, Wall Street, The Last Emperor, Fatal Attraction… Prozac sales begin.. Best Picture: Platoon.. Reagan roamed the White House… Hillary Duff born… Average monthly rent $395.. Gas, .89/gallon.. Terry Waite kidnapped in Beirut.. Disposable contacts debut.. Fads included parachute pants, jelly bracelets, dying hair in punk circles… “Big” hair and curled bangs were popular…


1977 Happy Days, Laverne & Shirley, M*A*S*H, Charlie’s Angels… The Oakland Raiders win Super Bowl XI… Jimmy was in Office… Median Household income $13,572... Bjorn Borg won Wimbledon… Seattle Slew took the Derby.. Notre Dame NCAA football champs… Rocky wins Best Picture.. Also, Saturday Night Fever, Star Wars, Annie Hall, Close Encounters of the Third Kind… “The King” checks out in Memphis.. We also lost Bing, Groucho and Charlie Chaplin… “I write the songs” Grammy song of the year.. Sarah Michelle Gellar, Ludacris, Liv Tyler born… Gasoline, .64 per gallon.. Dozen eggs .82.. Dow Jones hit 999...

1967 Bonanza, The Red Skelton Hour, The Andy Griffith Show.. In the very first Super Bowl, Green Bay defeats the Chiefs 35-10... Born: Tim McGraw, Nicole Kidman, Julia Roberts, Will Ferrell… Race riots breakout in Detroit, NYC’s Spanish Harlem, Birmingham, AL… Postage stamp - a nickel.. Rolling Stone magazine debuts… “Strangers in the Night” -Sinatra, record of the year… First heart transplant performed.. We lose Spencer Tracy, Woody Guthrie and John Coltrane.. Mantle hits his 500th .. Westmoreland requests more troops for Viet Nam.. Milk $1.15 a gallon, Bread .22... Gallon of gas .28... New car $2,425.00.. Average income $6,120.. Best Actress Katherine Hepburn in “Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner” Actor: Steiger in “In the Heat of the Night.” Lyndon Johnson in Office…Flloyd Patterson Heavyweight Champ…

1957 I Love Lucy, The Ed Sullivan Show, The $64,000 question, Gunsmoke… Detroit Lions win the NFL title… Born: Vince Gill, Melanie Griffith, Gloria Estefan, Lyle Lovette (WHAT was Julia thinking?).. Russia launches Sputnik - the first orbiting satellite … Ike in Office… Milwaukee Braves win World Series… West Side Story debuts.. The world was introduced to Jerry Mathers as The Beaver… Top movies: The Bridge on the River Kwai, Peyton Place, Twelve Angry Men.. Bogie checked out… Minimum Wage $1.00/hr.. Dow Jones average 435.. New Home $20,000... Life expectancy men, 67 years, women 73 years… Underclothes items such as corsets or bodices were popular.. Hip pads werer worn in some dresses… Biker and beatnick fashion became hip: leather, wools, minks, crocodile skins…

Happy memories, love, Victurd.

They’re avoiding my question………

Google, Yahoo.. MSN.. None of ‘em helped… I figured, since I mouthed off about “things to make life fun“… Why not search “Things to avoid in life”

Zilcho… I found all kindsa crap to avoid in certain situations - but no real guidelines about things to avoid in general, in life… Among the crap I found…..

Things to avoid on Valentines day:
Canned Love Poetry, Pretend to (or really!) Forget About It, Roses, again??
Overwhelming Gifts, Letting it End on February 15th

Lemme see… ok… next was Things to avoid by sign….(Whore-o-scope… ain’t that how it’s spelled?) Sorry, gotta bore you with Libra…
What to avoid: People who pick arguments for fun; a dark office; violent films; dull clothes (Don‘t they know me?); a partner who criticizes you (WHY didn‘t I know this in 1982?); anonymity; too much routine; noisy apartments.

Continuing on in the quest for things to avoid in life.. Ahm, things to avoid in a resume cover letter: Don’t use fanciful fonts. Don’t include personal information like your race, sex or marital status. Don’t brag or make statements that can't be quantified. If you go by Bubba, please use your given name of, say, Ralph. (Sorry, I added that one).

Jualah… things to avoid to make a lasting relationship
Never go into a relationship just thinking about the financial wealth of your partner (Screw that.. Elisabeth Shue - I love you for YOU, not your money!)…
Accepting your partner because of his/her educational achievements or status.. Uh huh, “holy shit… check out that 3.66 GPA” (versus “them 36DD’s“).. Being or having a partner who is not supportive of your dreams.. Thinking a partner must be treated according to the number of years they have existed on earth.. Not real sure if their gist here, but I think they were being nice to older farts…

Preggo
German Measles, X-rays, Venereal Diseases, Cigarettes- Alcohol , Drugs, watching other parents with whiney-butt little kids… Geez, being Prego sounds like no fun. Oh, and avoid being married to a smartass man that won’t assist you out of the waterbed during the 9th month - and teases you unmercifully because you can’t get out yourself.. ß honest, this was on there!

Things to avoid on 1st date
Being late, coming on too strong (I suck here), Staring (they had an arrow pointed from his head to her chest!)…being nosy, talking to other people, getting drunk, being cheap (WHAT? The Entertainment Book is off limits on date one?), hurting animals (really, this was on there), not kissing goodnight.

Ok, screw Google. Screw Yahoo. Screw MSN… Really.. What are some things to avoid in life?

Me… the expert… (two-time divorcee… no great retirement plan… a falling down house.. Proud owner of a 1995 HOT… ROD…. LINCOLN.. - that came with wonderful cassette tape player)…….. Says:

Loud people.. To each his/her own.. It’s repugnant to me…There are ways for those that wanna get on center stage other than cranking the amps… I steer clear here anyways…

False promises… “I’m gonna _____”… “Next month I will ______”… “I’m going to start that exercise program I’ve been talking about.” I’m a big believer in actions insteada behavior - inspitea DB in HS calling me “the supreme BS’er.” Seriously, this one bugs the crap outta me…

Credit cards… They ruined several years of my/our life…

No compromise… Relationships, friends, and yes - even some aspects of your work - there’s got to be compromise… My way or the highway just doesn’t cut it for me…

Know-it-alls… Why try to enjoy a conversation with someone who can’t learn anything?

Anything not done in moderation (I reserve the right to exclude the following from this list Miller Lite, salted peanuts, humor, and of course sex.)

Co-workers approaching you that (with intent) turn their head the other way… Why bother?

Flipping undies for a third day…

Being “animal-less”… Yes, they’re a pain, a responsibility, a chore.. The beni’s far outweigh the negative. Get one. And, said with love, screw you non-cat-loving sumbitches… I felt that way once too… now, you’ll never find me without having one, or two…

Avoid writing blogs that make folks fall asleep at the computer (Sorry)… OK, outta here… don’t avoid letting the stuff in your heart flow up to and out of your mouth… avoid holding back/not sharing good things you think of others.. Don’t walk under no ladders.. Step on a crack… continue straight ahead after the black cat crosses…

Thanks for not avoiding this site…. If you were to leave - it would leave A VOID in my life… love, Victurd…

Today’s sermon.. Admissions of a non-conformist….

Ok. I ain’t preaching. Below, is actually a list of somea the things I do in life to stay happy… or, to make the day turn from a C+ to a B-. I by no means am suggesting u ape any of the below - but if you see a fun idea (OR IF YOU HAVE ONE YOU WANNA SHARE) - by all means, please do. Please know I truly suck at a lot in life. Witness, cleaning my house, cleaning my car, cleaning my desk (is there a pattern here?).. cleaning my after work habits up.. much... I suck at much...(hell, I've been married twice, I guess that speaks).. but I DO have fun with life...

Six crows feet ago I taught at an elementary school. There was this very wise, very profound, very admired 5th grade teacher --- in her last year of teaching (and she was probably already beyond retirement age)… She represented almost the exact opposite view to how I try to live life - but - it was her way - and it was truly a remarkable way.. And she was genuinely a wonderful, wonderful woman. Her take “I don’t really see how people go thru life always laughing and having fun with things - 100% of the time.” True, about the 100% - but I find life soooo much easier when fun is had. Serious? Can I be? Can u be? Sure!…

Ahem…. Hello congregation… Just wanted to make sure you’re aware we’re 40% down on collectiosn for the projected budget of our building fund. Oh, and how ‘bout them Chiefs!

Start the day with coffee (if u drink the crap), the newspaper, and a look in the mirror. MAKE yourself laugh in the mirror. Who looks good in the mirror 30 seconds after getting outta bed? Think of something funny that was done to you - or that you had done to someone else - and smile - even if forced…. No matter, start the day with a smile. Like yourself. Even if some others may not! (Again, I'm talking to ME too!)

You know a genuinely nice/wonderful person? Nothing can knock them off their float in the parade? Come back with “What the hell is wrong with you… you’re ALWAYS in a good mood.” I have done this one, and it’s a feel good - for each…

Email a compliment to a co-worker. We sweat, we toil, we mostly assume no one is watching… Bammo. Email ‘em when you see good. If it’s REALLY good, and management would have no idea of what they’ve done - then, and only then, copy them in.

Re-connect. Look at your life - and the segments… Plan gatherings, or maybe just even a phone call, email for those from your past. How longs it been since you said “hey” to the guy/gal who helped u catch your first crawdad?.. Not into class reunions? Contact someone who was close to you at the time… Former co-workers?.. ‘Touch’ em. Re-connect.

Be GENUINELY nice to vendors. Could be a vendor at your work. Could be a (and I hate the word subordinate) someone under you in the corporate structure of your company. Could be the cable guy, the McDonald’s French Fry Sacker, the “Paper or Plastic” dude at the Piggly Wiggly, the lady at the Water Department… they all have frustrating jobs - and just like you and me - the only time they hear from someone is usually when the shit ain’t good. So be good, and be nice. And say thanks.

From leftfield. Have some fun. See a digital camera sitting without it’s owner? Take that mother and snap some pics. I don’t care. Zoom in on your buccal cavity… snap a shot of your armpit… or… do like some old dudes did at the bar the other night… unsuspecting chicky left digital on the shuffleboard table… three old drunks picked it up and had some fun… up to and including a “moon shot” (omg) from onea the old dudes… and then neatly handed the camera to the barkeep for the lost and found. I simply cannot believe a 55 yr old man would behave like that.

Long time no see? In line four aisles down at the Piggly Wiggly?.. “HEY TOMMY, I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU SINCE YOU GOT OUTTA PRISON.. HOW THE HECK AREYA?” (Watch ‘em shrivel)

Handshake. Don’t make it a normal handshake. Hang on for that extra second to let ‘em know “hey… I like you as a person.”… Mebbe even throw the other hand gently on top to emphasize the thought…

How do you feel when you hear “You look nice today.” F-in A Ray, you feel fabulous. So wing it yourself. Just don’t do it if it’s the one you’ve been dying to get in their drawers.. Do it to a friend. Non-sexually. You know.

Ask about someone’s family. Ever notice how someone perks up when this happens? You may not givea shit about little Joey’s 7 yr old soccer team, or about the wife’s rheumatoid arthritis, but what the hell - it’s the thought that counts… and you can learn things that will forever associate you with the other…

Razz a co-worker… Ten minutes late to work? Fuck ‘em.. “Good Afternoon, how are you?”… See ‘em on the internet? “Git urass back to work”… ALWAYS rib a co-worker when it’s appropriate, and it's sure to draw a smile from them.

Touch. Some don’t like touch. And perhaps there’s some you don’t wanna touch. When it’s appropriate, and of course, appropriate touch - do so. You know how good a touch on the shoulder or arm feels. It talks. It says “I like you.” Make the rounds. Touch many - if not physically, then verbally.

Ever said the simple sentence “I like working with you.”… I’m fitty-five.. I just said it first time ever about a month ago.. We both almost cried. Stupid? I don’t think so. I immediately heard “I like working with you too.”

Thank a boss. Sure, could be construed as kiss-ass.. But do it anyways. There’s only one top dude usually - and many inbetween. We foot soldiers have no idea the pressure placed from the top - to them - to us. Let ‘em know when they’re doing a good job. If they show trust in you - thank them for that. This can be done with the lips no where close to the derriere.

Smile. Often. A lot. To all, even the ones that never return it. How good does it feel when it is returned? Very.

This ends today’s sermon. Don’t forget: Brother Tom is down in the back, unable to work. If there’s anything extra you can do in the collection plate today - it’s very much appreciated.

Amen brother Ben… Love, Victurd.

A preachment, dear friend you are about to receive on John Barleycorn Nicotine and the temptations of Eve...

No… This ain’t about parking by the sewer sign, hot dogs, or broken razors. (And if you’re scratching your head, you’re one young sumbitch.)

Preachment: preaching or sermon, esp. a long, tiresome one…

I say this, because (as always).. what’s written – is written TO me.. shared.. but not with the intent to preach, suggest, mend, alter, etc.. I like life. I like to believe life can be even better……… so…… I write suggestions to me.. and then post ‘em..

Water drippin' up the spout
But I dont care, let it all hang out

Today I searched… “Put more fun in your life”… or… “Make your life more fun” or something like that… and I found some ideas – I think – are pretty cool.

Swinging….. When’s the last time you were on a swing? Actually went to a park a few months back with co-workers and did this. Was therapeutic.

Random acts of connections..… Wave to a fireman. Say ‘hi’ to a cop. Salute a soldier. Strike up a friendly conversation with the Circle K chicky when buying cigs.

Hangin' from a pine tree by my knees
Sun is shinin' through the shade
Nobody knows what its all about
It's too much, man, let it all hang out

A just for fun phone call… Have you ever noticed – 99% of phone calls made start with a almost fakey “HEY, how are you?”.. followed by a similar reply.. then.. a very brief moment of silence.. and then you get to the meat-a-the-matter of why you’re calling. I like the idea of calling someone for absolutely no reason. I’d like it if I received a call from someone who had no specific reason for calling me other than they simply wanted to talk to me – just to say ‘hey’….

15 minutes a day of doing absolutely nothing…. Go on a walk. Listen to music. Sit on the couch. Dance, run, jog, skip or stretch. Write, paint or sketch. Pet an animal or plant. Listen to the wind. Take yourself on a date. Do something that is alive and energizing for you.

Saw a man walkin' upside down
My T.V.s on the blink
Made Galileo look like a Boy Scout
Sorry 'bout that, let it all hang out

Mix it up… Have breakfast for dinner, dinner for breakfast.. Got kids? Hell, have dessert first – a sure crowd pleaser. Use ‘fun’ utensils insteada the normal fork/spoon. Have justa spatula for one, an eggbeater handle for another, and perhaps a large serving spoon.. and then laugh as you eat…

Decorate with stuff that makes you smile…. Forget Martha Stewart – or Nathaniel P. Interior Decorator.. put up stuff that has mems.. or funny stuff.. or family stuff.. and who cares what outsiders think….

Write a letter to someone you cherish. Tell them everything you’d say as if it were the last time you could ever communicate with them.

Go swimming. Hell, that’s an easy one – but in this hustle-bustle world – whoever does it any more?

Sleep all day, drive all night
Brain my numb, can't stop now
For sure ain't no doubt
Keep an open mind, let it all hang out

Share your life experience…. Keep in mind that not everyone knows what you know. Your personal experiences can be valuable to others. You might be surprised by what some people don?t know about life! I always am.

When you hear someone discussing a topic and you’re completely lost.. jot it down… If there’s something you think of that you’d like to know about, and probably should know about it… jot it down.. add to the list stuff that perks you – and you’d love to learn more… Then set aside some time to Google for your own selfishness…

It's rainin' inside a big brown moon
How does that mess you baby up, leg
Eatin' a Reuben sandwich with sauerkraut
Don't stop now, baby, let it all hang out

Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out
Let it all hang out

Ok ushers, pass the damn collection plates out now. Kidding. I know I’m weird. Don’t care. Just enjoy life, would like it if it were even better. Happy day. Happy night. Let it all hang out.. Love, Victurd

Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth…….

Yeah I know… but hell… I’ve related my equine expertise to you before… Dated this chicky… nice chicky.. Was living her dream in country.. Two horses… each having unique personalities… One would be riding calm, peaceful - and in the next minute decide he didn’t want you on his back any longer… The other… like a rock.. Steady.. Dependable.. What you saw is what you got… always..

So after months of begging “please come ride with me”.. I gave in… but… “let’s start in the arena first, that way I won’t end up at the base of some cliff somewhere in case this sport ends up being like any other sport I’ve butchered where I don’t have control" (ice skating, roller skating, etc.)… and u know the rest.. GD rock steady horse… went straight for the corner of the arena… dropped anchor… I was humiliated.. And finished..

So… I ain’t real sure about that ‘don’t look a gift horse in the mouth..’ Could be a buncha horseshit for all I know…

This morning’s KC Star… about… (Answer at end)… “______ is unique. He shows his feelings. He’s personal. He doesn’t act like the tough-guy cowboy. He’s a family man, and he shows it.”

Continuing… “in life and song, he also empathizes with the woman’s point of view, whether she’s a mother or a wife, or both.”…”I’ve always hung around my mother and my sister a lot… I find myself being able to work with women very easily.”

And s‘more… “The greatest achievement I’ve ever done is be a father to three beautiful girls”… (LD areya listenin’?).. What is left to know is, that’s where my future lies. Because I am responsible for the mark my children make on this world… That’s the only thing I know for sure.”

The Star summing up Garth Brook’s comments: “If that wasn’t a “feminine side” he tapped into, it was then, a flash of tenderness or something many fathers have trouble discovering and expressing: a maternal streak.”

One more gaze at that gift horse finds Spanish heartthrob actor Javier Bardem relating “We could not afford a baby-sitter when my mother went to the theater:… “I’ve always been surrounded by strong female personalities, and I respect them. I think they are far stronger in the soul than men. I am still a romantic. For me, the most attractive woman is the person who is at peace with herself. Calm but not boring. No matter how good that person looks, when I see somebody at peace, that is sexy to me..”

Ok Bobby - I’m done with this topic - a promise. As I’ve given it more reflection - and it’s my promise to keep it a secret from your Argentine/Strawberry Hill/Quindero buds - the more I think about it - the more I think your vision, opinions of, and admiration for women - the more I think we’re just damn near on an even keel in this area.

Ok… better get ma gait picked up… trot to gas station to filly up…tack-y huh?… eh, another ‘also ran’ blog.. I’d better bolt… (in a bit)… enjoy the field… be nice to handicaps… get a handle on things… jockey the important things in life.. Get a leg up on life… many of us are in the stretch turn of life…time to whip up some fun… remember though… don’t look a gift horse in the mouth… giddy up… Love, Victurd.

Four chicks……..

Last night… I sat, as normal, with my old high school cronies - at the “pre-game” party (Bar).. Prior to attending the final local high school game of the year…

Four chicks walked in… They all were in the graduating class ahead of me - and one of them I admit to having ‘the hots’ for decades ago….

I know two of the four for sure aren’t married - and I think probably all four were divorced…

So…. I watched with interest as they picked their ‘hideout’ within the establishment. Back in the far corner - a booth - all but eliminating wanton gentlemen from approaching them.

Then I wondered to myself… Maybe it’s their past experiences/relationships that made them this way… Maybe that’s exactly where they wanna sit… Maybe they’ve decided “whatever good would come from it just simply ain’t worth it for the bad… I’m fine… Life ain’t perfect, but it‘s ok… I ended up alone.. And I’ve become accustomed to it.”

And then I bet they all glared out at the crowd, found the tightest male booty in Levi’s, and frothed inside in their hidden desires.

We all know the truth. Don’t try to sell that shit to us!

High school football team got their butts whipped. They even got to the “mercy rule.” That’s when a team is ahead by 35 or more points… they continue to run the clock non-stop.. Thus, having mercy on the team. I remembered playing on this field. I looked at where the GD yellow bus was parked that drove the team there.. And I wondered if I even had the chutzpah left to make the trek from the bus to the field. Hehe.

Then, after the game.. (“Dad… where you going?”… ahm, any GD (gosh darn) place I want. I am fitty-five you know) ahm.. To the cruddy (adorable) local establishment where all the old single dudes (and a few marrieds) meet up to talk about how shitty the team looked.. How we need a new coach.. And we congruently scratched our heads and wondered how the largest high school in the state could not field a winning team.

Then… we watched other single women, grouped, seated. A mix of ages. All, having fun. Then, they seemingly borrowed that attitude from the aforementioned ‘four chicks’.. walking by them was kinda like walking by a yap dog.. You just know any second that if you were to walkup - attempt to ‘pet’ - they’d bare their teeth, let out the hideous high pitched bark where they seemingly go on and on without taking a breath for like 45 seconds… So u don’t even disturb the pups…

And then they sit there… cast their eyes about.. and individually froth on the inside, hiding their desires. Again, you can’t sell that shit to us.. But I’ll be damned if I’m gonna risk getting a finger or two chewed off.

This was all so much easier at age 16 when so-and-so would wonder up to you and say so-and-so thinks you’re pretty cool. You’d end up having ten separate conversations with this go between - and the next thing you’d know - you were making out under the high school bleachers with so-and-so.

Which reminds me. I ain’t 100% sure so-and-so, the desirous one of the four chicks, is married. I am good friends with her brother. So… maybe the go between route would be hella better than Match.. MySpace… bars… dancing… bowling… etc… Then maybe the times have changed to where I truly might get my finger bitten off.

Maybe I’ve just realized “whatever good would come from it just simply ain’t worth it for the bad… I’m fine… Life ain’t perfect, but it‘s ok… I ended up alone.. And I’ve become accustomed to it.”

Life… it is interesting. Happy frothing… Love, Victurd

Yesterday……..

I said “"The orange, the burnt orange, the rust, the yellows, the salmon, the coral, the tangerine, the mahogany, the peach, the apricot,, the pumpkin, the persimmon…"

A ‘former’ (hehe) friend of mine said “Bobby thinks that your color descriptors bear witness to the amount of time you spend with women. A KCK guy would never describe it that way! JK! C.J.”

So I’ve given this some thought…

When I was twelve, Janet Flanagan (one in a family of nine that lived next door) had a mean, MEAN left-handed bat… she too could scoop errant throws outta the dirt with the ease John Mayberry had.. (If you’re young, John was ‘hella’ defensive first baseman for the Royals back in the day)

Janet never was confronted with the scrutiny of “why do you play with guys?”… “what up with that?” There were never “hints” of anything… It was nineteen-friggin-sixty-six for criminy sakes… I ain’t even sure if Rosie or Ellen Degeneres was born yet… let alone that Leavenworth, KS singing chickie…

Now I remember those days… and I remember the groups of girls that would play.. And, the intermittent fellers that would join in their fray… Even though Maris had yet to hit 61, we still wondered about the dudes… Limp-wrist… “Wore green and yellow on Thursday”… Pants hiked up over their belly button. Something wrong with this picture.

FAST FORWARD TO 2007.…… Dudes hang out… talk about every chick on the planet with the exception of the one they’re betrothed to… Talk about “thirty ought six” or some GD gun they’re gonna kill Bambi with… Hawwwwwwkkk… Ptttuuuhh.. Chewwww… Scratch their nuts… Sniff in thru their nostrils… followed by right or left sleeve cleaning up the substances that didn’t make it’s way up thru the nostrils… then, as if they had one hand on their pee pee, and the other looking up their bank balance online- they tellya what they make… and how it rocks.. And without saying they are “somebody”… they indicate “I’m somebody”…. Almost as if they’re running for erection.. Oops… typo… election.

Women…. On the other hand… sometimes wear scantily clad outfits… (Need I even continue?)… Dresses… June Cleavage… They’re pretty… they smell GD nice… they havea heart… they’re apathetic… they listen, take it all in and don’t blurt… and, I’ve found.. Women are just as bigga pigs as men… uh huh.. Are… Come to our “Breakfast Club” round-table talk during break time any morning or afternoon.. It might just be something about the round concrete table we have at work… but… it’s a certainty - amongst he perves, someone will bring out the term (to my niece Valerie - PLEASE close your ears/eyes) anal. Honest to goodness. I actually get embarrassed. OMG is onea my favorite sayings on break…. I’m practiced in the art of turning red.

So Bobby… I lied and sent your wifey an email saying “well… I too was poor.. And when we moved into the house formally owned by Sarah Loughery (rich folks) she’d inadvertently left a 64 piece box of Crayolas.. And that’s where I got the “sissy” color list. (Please note box even had sharpener - and we’re talking circa 1961)…

But, that story is bogus. I made it up… Hawwwwwwkkk… Ptuuuuahh…

I truthfully was (and am) so enthralled with the colors God be’a painting. I went to Wikipedia and entered the word “orange”.. That’s where I got “"The orange, the burnt orange, the rust, the yellows, the salmon, the coral, the tangerine, the mahogany, the peach, the apricot,, the pumpkin, the persimmon…"

Wouldn’t you know Wikipedia would be written by a GD (gosh darn) woman?

So………… YES Bobby it’s true… I DO have more female friends than male friends….YES, I do spend an inordinate amount of time with women (in comparison to time spent with men.)

And to you, kind sir, who I TRULY do envy very much… I say… “Duh”

I truthfully, honestly, emphatically, energetically say “I don’t give a ratsass (said with love Bobby… but not the 1960’s kinda love - say of playing “Jacks” at recess in a huddle of girls”).. where was I? Oh yeah, ratsass… I do enjoy my male friends… truly I do.. But I congruently love my female friends…

Orange you glad I’m adding amber… gamboges… tangerine… tawny… mahogany… vermilion…to the fray…

Brb… gotta tinkle… then… I understand… we’re gonna do “tinikling.”.. . I hate when that happens… “Bobby.. please know.. when it's the turn of that one chicky that's got 38DD's to tinikle, I do hereby promise to turn my head.”

Hehe. Love, Victurd.

God 1, Martha Stewart 0

I really think, (don’t swat me) the last time I stepped foot in church was quite a few months back - and it was in the basement for a Boy Scout’s Chili Dinner.. Shame on me…

Driving into work today… I lit up… How can one wake up, walk out the door, begin the day this time of year without Holy envy…

Driving in - traffic was sparse (thankfully) so I had opportune to look over and view the trees… My goodness… Every year - about this time, He gets out His paint brush and goes to work… The orange, the burnt orange, the rust, the yellows, the salmon, the coral, the tangerine, the mahogany, the peach, the apricot,, the pumpkin, the persimmon…

ALL the shades of green, orange, brown - and inbetween… Strokes… He makes strokes.. And the change goes on daily… If you can drive by and not smile - you’re a stronger person than I… I look at it and wanna pee my pants and say “THANKYOU!!! THANKYOU!!!”.. “NO MATTER HOW MANY YEARS I’VE SEEN IT - I LOVE IT - AND I AM APPRECIATIVE!!!!”

God works in mysterious ways.. Some days he kicks back and creates a blue sky for us to relax and observe (and probably Him too).. Some days he throws a little gray in there - and some aqua - and He refreshes everything…

This timea year is the master plan… He’s painting allover… He doesn’t care if you don’t have squat and live in Hooterville, he’ll make the surroundings magnificent…He even pretties up Mission Hills, Johnson County…

When you think of the expanse - He’s some kinda artist…

He makes these changes fairly rapidly - as if to almost say “Hey you.. Take a moment… Smile… enjoy life… enjoy the beauty.. Stare at the wonder…”

And then long about December he blows all the leaves off… throws a heapin’ helping’ of freezing mist on everything to wipe the slate clean… puts His easel away… and readies Himself for Spring… all the vivid greens…

I don’t know your take on beliefs… and please know I ain’t thumping here… But I don’t understand how anyone can be out and about this time of year - and not smile… not wonder… not thank… not enjoy.. not say a prayer… not believe…

I, Victurd, do hereby challenge you to drive a path… take in the surroundings.. And not smile…

I’ve mouthed off enough… I’ll leaf you alone… Orange you glad?.. Happy Fall to you… Happy Halloween… May the resta your week be spooktacular…Love, Victurd

GPS…

With Christmas approaching - onea the most requested “I want” items in this technological era - is the GPS system… Ya gotta know where you’re going… Like anything technological - what one was once an arm and a leg pricewise - after a few years - they make them where they’re almost bearable for the common man… Online pricing now is around $240... And Christmas ‘door busters’ expect them to be available for around $150.. Mebbe even $99...

Do you know where you’re going? I ain’t real sure I do.. Seems it’s the same paths, same diddies, same things day after day… I have the great want to change directions… but the motivation, or perhaps more the wherewithal…- it’sa lackin’..

Article on Eric Clapton today espousing his new book about his life… He related - paraphrasing - I really wanted to see who I am.. Where I’ve been… Clapton has been sober now for twenty years.. And of the years prior to that “it’s really kinda hard to remember.. To organize.. To relate.”

Young, with it actress Natalie Portman relates “if you don’t like where you’re going - it’s simple, change it.”

They say the only time you can change a man is when he‘s a baby. Eh, perhaps true.

Quite simply, I need a new direction. There’s a hitch in my GPS get along… Don’t get me wrong - the bliss, the enjoyment of life portrayed here is real… I just know life can get even better…

A short one today.. No funny stuff… SORRY! Come back tomorrow… mebbe I’ll wear Halloween costume.. Maybe we’ll talk the World Series.. Or The Chiefs… or, perhaps college football.. Or.. Mebbe I’ll even have a new direction..

May your GPS guide you wherever in life it is you wanna go… Happy day, love, Victurd

Here's my beard....

Ain't it weird? Don't be sceered, Just a beard.

Yes, stolen from George Carlin. (As are many of the quotes thrown in below.) I love George Carlin’s take on life - and how he so very aptly points out life is weird, and we’re even weirder…

I shouldn’t read the news - and usually skim right over the yuck stuff… this morning’s paper had it’s share of yuck (lady kills pregnant lady.. Cuts baby out of her stomach… Best friend shoots best friend, then rapes his wife…)..

Then ya get even weirder ones… Like the guy who was lying in a park with his pants down - next to a full sized anatomically correct inflatable doll… even weirder… two years earlier he was arrested for robbing a Bridal Shop - and caught blocks away with a mannequin wearing a bridal dress… Eh, mebbe he ain’t so nuts… at least there’d be no quarrels in that kinda arrangement… no infidelity… no incensed cell calls with “where the hell are you?” And hell.. they’d never age or gain weight… Nothing a little glue/patch or patching compound couldn’t fix..

The IQ and the life expectancy of the average American recently passed each other going in the opposite direction.

PLEASE be safe this weekend. Dick Cheney is going hunting…

There’s no present..There’s only the immediate future and the recent past.

McCain trashes Hillary for her want to earmark $1 million in funds for a Woodstock museum. Caused some dude to write “The reason the 60’s keeps rearing it’s head: It’s not over. The 60’s didn’t end when the last guitar was unplugged at Woodstock.” Should be an interesting election.

Have you ever noticed anyone driving slower than you is an “idiot” and anyone driving faster than you is a “maniac’?

At the Park reading the paper this morning (yes, I’d already done the Piggly Wiggly breakfast thing… bastards won’t let me smoke in there)… a stream of birds.. Too high to distinguish what kind (<-- fancy for “I know robins, cardinals, blue jays… ‘bout it).. Forty birds wide - this migration continued (in numbers) and continued… I’d bet a mile long group of them… Twenty minutes later - another group - same thing - same numbers.. Musta been separated by air traffic control. Anyways… here it is October 27.. Bastards were going North. Now THAT’s global warming…

When cheese gets it's picture taken, what does it say?

Reid and Soanya are on day #187. If you’re just stopping by… there is a couple.. He 53, she 23 [uh huh, you read it right].. They’re attempting to break the continuous sailing record.. Hence their website: 1000days.net The record is 600+, and if they make it they’ll circle the globe three times.. Kinda interesting to read their website.. How/what they eat… how they power things with solar, tow generators, batteries….they’ve seen whales… birds occasionally land on their boat (which begs the question - how GD far can a bird fly without taking a rest?).. No major incidents since the early days of their voyage… remember? They sailed into a Naval firing range (oh shit) and they literally ran into a freighter in the wee hours.. Check ‘em out..

When you kiss your grandmother in France.. Is that considered a French kiss? ß screw you George… that was mine!

When I sat down, thought I had all kindsa things to say. Sorry. Brain went empty. Have a nice day. Treat the tricksters. Be careful on two lane highways - there are weird people in life and 50% of them are going in the opposite direction as you. Love, Victurd.

Spring forward, fall back….

Not this Sunday, but next Sunday - we have an extra hour in our lives…

At 1:59am, Sunday November 4th, we set the clocks back to 1:00am…

They got every damn thing on the internet now - and one of ‘em is “Top Five Unique Things To Do With The Extra Daylight Savings Hour.” Bored sonsabitches I say. I gotta go back and look - surely there’s ads on the page or sumpin… Yep - what I thought…

Anyways, their suggestions:

1) Write a meaningful letter to everyone you know. Did they like just get here? I mean it’s a grand idea - but GD (Gosh Darn) it’s my hope by now, even if you’re twelve, it would take you longer than one hour to write a meaningful letter to everyone you know.

2) Make some non-New Years Resolutions… They suggest “Maybe you can be more understanding with your family and friends, or, exercise and eat better.” Ahm.. .naahhh…

3) Cuddle and talk with someone special. Now them sonsabitches are talking. Ahm, yeah, that’d be third on my list… Yours? “Hey honey? With this extra hour we got.. You wanna write everyone you know… maybe set a plan in motion to get ridda your beer belly.. Or run to bed and have sex?”.. Me? Hell. I’d vote for #3.. But, it’s been so damn long, then we’d haveta thinka something for the other 57 minutes…

4) Make a plan for an altruistic act. Ahm. Brb….. Thanks Webster… Why couldn’t they just say “Random act of kindness”? I suppose that’s cool - but I ain’t real sure they’d appreciate you hammering and nailing for the new Habitat for Humanity house at 1:00am Sunday. Eh, but perhaps still a good idea to plan something unselfish…

5) Write a love song… Ohhhhh, great idea. Like however many kajillion of us Americans there are have the ability to write a love song?

Stolen from some Redneck site:

Kudzu is green,
my dog's name is Blue
And I'm so lucky
to have a sweet thang like you.

Yore hair is like cornsilk
A-flapping in the breeze.
Softer than Blue's
And without all them fleas.

You move like the bass,
Which excite me in May.
You ain't got no scales
But I luv you anyway.

Ok ok…… so what do I suggest we do with the extra hour?… Well.. I think I might stand in front of the mirror at 1:58am, look at myself.. And say… “for years.. You’ve wanted to be younger… WATCH… because in a minute, you will be.”

Then… since I don’t have anyone to “Cuddle and talk with someone special” I think it’d be a pretty damn good time to think of the favorite hours of my/our/your lives and “relive” them…..

It’d be pretty special for me if I were able to relive an hour in the living room - just sitting and talking with my parents and my sister. I’d give a year of my life for that possibility.

I’d relive the final 30 minutes of the time back in the dinosaur days I coached the women’s basketball team at the college I went to - and we won the Missouri Small College Championship.. And then the 30 minutes just after the game. Special - it was special. At least to me…

I’d think of playing whiffle ball in the yard when I was nine…

A dark hour of kick the can with the nine Flanigan kids… again.. Probably about age nine….

I’d relive the thirty minutes at Granny’s house on Christmas Eve before we opened presents - and the thirty minutes that followed comparing presents with my cousins… circa age 6 to 12..

I’d spend an hour at the frat house… Dix, Boze, Whale, Gib, Coxy, Bouncer, Stinger - and a case of Bud…

I’d relive an hour of the Courtwarming Dance with Teri…

I’d relive an hour in Maui with Perijo….

I’d relive an hour in the sack with Marilyn… (Oink.. Sorry… all men are pigs!)…

I’d spend an hour looking thru all the pics and videos of my kid - and smile away the hour…

I’m boring you now… but if anything… I hope it sets your mind thinking about what you’d relive - given the chance… If nothing else - take a moment to think back on the really really good times in your life… know that there are more good times ahead - no matter how shitty ‘today’ can occasionally be…

Why heck… envision creating your own future hour of how you’d like it to be… I mean shit, that’s easier than writing a damn love song….

Ending this now… Thanks for being here. Thanks for reading.. Thanks for your brain… God Bless life and all there is in it… Every minute we’re here is blessed.. No, it may not always be shiny - but it’s blessed. Sixty minutes. Free. Sixty extra minutes. More of life.

Seeya on March 9, 2008... We’ll all bitch about being cheated out of an hour.. And the many times in life we’ve wasted away time… (In line at Mickey D’s… at the License Bureau… Four carts back at the checkout of Piggly Wiggly… Commercial time during the World Series.. Etc..)

I loveya…… Victurd.

I’ve found her…………

Be for real... Did u really think so? I know… I didn’t think you would….

Awhile back… I heard longtime (now Hall of Fame) broadcaster for the Kansas City Royals - Denny Matthews interviewed… He is ALWAYS getting asked “who’s your favorite baseball player for the Royals over the years?”…

He always came up with the same answer… “Well… I’ll take George Brett batting…. Frank White fielding.. And Willie Wilson running.”

I reckon that’s why I’m here today/tonight… “I’ve found her.”

I’ve fallen in love with Catom’s loyalty…. Teresa’s pats on the back and upbeat attitude…Rae’s excitement for life… Gracie’s quick smile and laugh… Sumbrum’s penchant for getting the most outta every minute of life… Misty’s wonderful brain (oh, and her butt too, sorry, all men are pigs… relax.. She‘s half my age.. But she does have a nice butt!).. Kathie’s want of adventure (and follow thru of same).. CJ’s dedication and loyalty… Cherryl’s friendship and occasional mischief.. Lisa’s “I don’t really know you but it’s cool old farts and young folks can be friends.”… Terry’s wildly creative brain… Cyn’s epitome of the word friend… Jana’s coming from leftfield… M’s take on life..

So… ya wanna get married? Well hell, CJ already is… so that cuts it down to 13... Oops.. See another married, ahm 12.. And annuder… we’re at 11.. .. So we could do 30 days each.. Then take a month a year off… Hell.. at that rate, I could like afford a Motel for the whole month of December.. deal? Fuckin’ A Rae-Catom-Teresa-Gracie-Sumbrum-Misty-Kathie-Lisa-Cyn-Jana-M…

In all seriousness… each and every one of you has sent me words to make life fun… and it’s my hope you’ve gained an occasional smile here… this blog (and your comments) save me from having a shrink bill!

If I’ve missed someone… I apologize (and what-the-hey, there’s still a month open!)…

I feel quite certain I’m labeled at work. I hang with women. I don’t do so with known intent - it just happens. For whatever reason, the vast majority of my life has seen me having very good friendships with women. Yes, some men too… But it’s not uncommon for me to lookup at lunchtime and realize there’s like five of them and onea me. It’s those occasions where I stop, smell the roses.. And think “I’ma lucky bastard.” I ain’t gots no regrets to same.

I truly do value each and every onea your friendships… so… when you’re ready to make sleeping arrangements… please call me at 867-5309...

Happy happy………. Love, Victurd

sdrawkcassab.....

I had a revalation... All this GD (gosh darn) time... I've had blinders on and I've asked myself "HEY... what's wrong with me?" (Re: the most recent end of a 20 year+ marriage..)...

You know what? Fuck that. I've had it sdrawkcassab. I am man, hear me roar.

Love, Victurd...

Mad, amorous……

Mad: ADJECTIVE: Showing or having enthusiasm: ardent, enthusiastic, fervent, keen 1, rabid, warm, zealous. Informal: crazy. Slang: gung ho, nuts. See concern Marked by extreme excitement, confusion, or agitation: delirious, frantic, frenetic, frenzied, wild. Archaic: madding. See calm


Amorous: ADJECTIVE:
Strongly attracted or disposed to love, especially sexual love.
Indicative of love or sexual desire: an amorous glance.
Of or associated with love: an amorous poem.
Being in love; enamored: He had been amorous of her since the day they met.


In the last two weeks, I’ve had conversations with two gentleman, each married - each admitting “the intimacy went South long ago… in fact, we occupy separate bedrooms.. and have for some time..”

It was an eye-opener for me… me the dude who worries because my bed
partner now is a 15 year old fat cat.. Not that I don’t love the
cat… I do… I guess I just felt sorry for myself…

Having two marriages myself that have “gone South” I decided to
Google “How to stay married.” Surprisingly, there was no exact
match. Hmmm. I thought that’d be kinda important. (Actually I
"Yahoo'ed".. but everyone thinks in terms of Google, thus, used it.)

I did, however, find a site “Why do you stay married?” - and the
results there too were sad… One poll indicated only 30% stayed
married for love. Another 30% for the children… 20% for commitment…
9% due to fear.. 8% for finances. And 4% due to tradition…

So…….. Again I find myself asking “if I am fortunate enough to be
‘with’ again, I don’t wanna screw it up… give me some helps here
Internet.” So I scrolled down.. And the same site did give suggestions…

1) Take time each day to relate what has gone on in your day,
how you are feeling about things - and try to get your mate to reciprocate…

2) Have a weekly date night.. Courtship can be for many, the most
exciting period in a relationship. Don’t let that part end. Doesn’t
have to be anything extravagant - just get out.

3) Look for opportunities to show your love… a love note, love
letter, love email, love text, thoughtful gift… let your mate know
you are thinking of them throughout the day.

The catch phrase nowadays is “I’ve fallen out of love.” Bullshit.
Everyone knows a good marriage takes hard work. We love the things
we take time and energy with.

George Washington Carver (so this article said.. And I have no idea
if this is one in the same as the inventor) put it best "How far you
go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate
with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant of the weak
and strong. Because someday in life you will have been all of these."

I know, that upon occasion, CJ and Valerie wonder by here. Please
know I thought of each of you as I wrote this. We envy you, and are proud of you each.. If half the marriages fail, and only
30% of the marriages continue due to love - that’s only 15% of all
marriages. Pat yourself on the back - and then give Bobby/Darren a
backrub! Way cool.. And carry on.

In spite of the odds… In spite of the tango being a dance that
requires two to wanna… in spite of my age.. In spite of the
potential of it (an end) all happening again… in spite of the
occasional pity parties I’ve forced you to attend.. I’d do it
again in a heartbeat.

So… tell me about your day.. How you feel… Let’s go on a date..
Here’s a rose.. And if you’ll check in the back pocket of your jeans
there’s a note that says “I love your butt.”

Seen her?

Happy mad, amorous… Love, Victurd

How to survive on a deserted island…

Well… I hear water is important, so… in effort to make sure and get good, clean, non-bacterial water - my current drink of choice is Miller Lite… distilled to get the yuck out.. Safe… Even, upon occasion, makes me funny.. (talking…. And looking)… I also find, it aids in “prettying up” the opposite sex…. And.. Assists me in walking up and saying stupid things like “Heavy Penguins”:… huh?…. Icebreakers..

Distress signals… Ya gotta get off the island.. And you don’t have to be an advertising exec when you find yourself in this predicament… I’ve tried, Matchdoctor, Match, Yahoo, Singlesnet, MySpace, MSN, bars, sport‘s teams, bowling, work, etc... And I just haven’t been able to entice - THE RIDE off the island… There’ve been a few who’ve tried to save me - but there always seems to be boat motor problems, airplane prop failure, no gas, no lift… which is all fancy for Goldilocks’s “too this… too that.. Not enough…” etc. No “just right” yet. And, even had one or two say “thanks, but I think I’ll save this other person instead.” Good thing I happen to like coconuts (and water!)..

Enjoy the view and consider it a vacation… Oh believe me I do.. I very much enjoy eyeballing other’s that are stranded.. Occasionally I see one I believe we as a team could make it back to society - but generally the other person ain’t got the interest in survival - or, perhaps has boat motor problems, airplane prop failure, no gas, etc.

Join groups… ease the worry by surrounding yourself with others.. Uh huh.. Helps.. break time.. After hour fun… watching ballgames together… sometimes plain old people watching is fun… Yes, I am seedy.. Upon occasion I see another distressed, stranded person and wonder what they’d look like in a coconut shell bikini….

Snakes…. Watchout… most snakes on deserted island are poisonous.. There are snakes allover.. Don’t associate with snakes… they come in many sizes and shapes… and can even have the appearance of being harmless.. Caution.. Don’t go there.. If you think you’ve found a friend.. And they demonstrate snakelike qualities.. Don’t invest more time here..

Food… eat greens and berries.. They’re colorful, and good for you… Additionally, they might help you/me trim down.. And this generally makes for obtaining a lift off the island easier.. Don’t believe “Save the whales”… People like rescuing fit folks…

Fire.. You gots to have fire for your cigs… you gots to have fire to start a romance… find a way to be ‘found’. Fire is erotic. It’s warm. It’s fun to look at.. Fire is passion. Fire fuels survival - and it can make two bond, be rescued.

If all else fails, call Onstar. Tell ‘em you promise to act on one of those GD daily junk mail letters from Capitol One, and that if they get you off the island - you’ll pay them back with Cap One Visa.

Actually… life here on the island ain’t bad… I could stand getting laid at least every other month though… and… the sand in the crack of the butt I could do without.. But generally, life ain’t bad… I’d rather be stranded here alone than together on and island alone. I’ve heard people say they’ve been in relationships where they’ve felt more alone than when actually alone. Must be the snakes. Or prop failure. Or, too much ‘water’. Sumpin.

May your life be tropical. May you have wonderful, mad amorous sex if you get rescued… May you find that pair of eyeballs that simply say, “yes, this is it. I’m home. I’m rescued.”

Shit. Now where’d I put that sunscreen? Like sand down our crack, so go the days of our lives....

Love, Victurd

I know to you.. it might sound strange.. but I wish it would rain... oh how I wish that it would rain...

My son… He patrols, cleans, monitors, the downtown streets of Kansas City… from Broadway - to three blocks West… between like 8th and 13th… His little circle of the world…

He repeatedly tells me “you don’t know what hard work is…. My days are hard… I see bums.. I pickup other’s crap… I deal with dope addicts…” etc, etc, etc… “I wish I had your job… and made your fat paycheck.”

Well… I kinda wish he had my job too… little basta (said with love) could help out hella more than he’s able to do now financially!

Where were we… oh yea… rain…

Unlike my friend Tom.. Who relates “I went to work for the Ford Motor Company in 1972, and I’ve been there ever since”… nomme… nope… huh uh… I’ve experienced the rain..

My son feels I’ve sat in a cubicle since Nixon was in office. Hardly so. I’ve lined ball fields… I’ve hauled sod (YUCK!).. I’ve owned a delivery service (ya get out, no matta the weather).. I worked for three, count ‘em THREE, airlines… (THE WORST, standing in the rain, loading an airplane..)… the little pansies that never get up in the ‘bin’ during the good weather to work on their knees… now allofasudden, feel the urge to do so…

I carried mail.. How do they say? Rain, sleet, snow?..
Working in the rain is the worst… Gimme cold… I’m ok… Gimme snow.. I can tread… Gimme 100 degrees plus.. I’m allright… I can sweat with the best of them…

Rain - it alters one’s approach…

I do wish though… we’d take on life like we do rain…. Huh? No, I’m serious.. Have you watched people in the rain? F-in A Ray, they’re intent… focused… lean… to the point… hustling… the goal = “Get there”…

Imagine if it rained 24/7, 365... We’d all be more focused… We’d all get to it… We’d all not stop for idle talk.. Insteada “how’s ur day?” we’d simply offer “hi” and get on with things…

Now I’m not one to wish the day away… Believe me, I enjoy laid back… and feel I am laid back…

But mebbe if we could focus on problems… loved ones… money situations… wavering on “do I do this or do I do that?”… our weight.. Our health.. Our relationship.. Our lack of relationship.. … If we could focus on all that crap like how we focus on what we’re doing/where we’re going when it rains….it’d be a good thing.

Rain forces “haveta.” The path. I must. I’m hungry, therefore I must. Hurry. No fat, cut to the bone, the straightest path.

Please close your ears… I can’t remember what it’s like to have sex listening to the rain. I do hereby promise, if in my lifetime I should again have sex within earshot of listening to a rainstorm - to report back to you on just how heavenly it was.

Funny, kinda, how much so much stuff relates to life… in the rain = focused. Outta the rain = glad.. comforted… so perked by the auditory senses..

I’m not certain I could make it in the temperate rain forests of Washington… Southern Norway.. Northern Spain… New Zealand…etc… I fear I’d have no fingernails.. And be too damned tired/tense/ready to fall asleep to ever have dreams of “oh baby oh baby” again.

I do enjoy rain being a reminder. Focus. Get there. Plan a path. Shortest distance between two points.

Life, it be interesting, no matta the weather.

‘Sunshine blue skies please go away.. The girl has found anotherandgone away… With her went my future my life is filled with gloom.. So day after day I stay locked up in my room.. I now to you, it might sound strange, but I wish it would rain,”

On second thought.. Maybe being in the rain ain’t so bad. You can’t rain on my parade… Happy drips… love, Victurd

Intermittent.....

Driving in… the rain was spotty.. raining soft enough that if you left the wipers on full bore – they’d make the hideous dry-ruhhmmpp-ruhhmmpp-ruhhmmpp-ing noise.. yet, fast enough – you still had to have them make their occasional swath to unobstruct the view ahead…

Then I wasa thinkin’… ain’t that kinda like times in life?... There are days, weeks, months, sometimes years where baby, when it rains – it pours… we thinka every single way to ‘make a swath – clear the view ahead’… Frustration sets in.. nerves/muscles tense… worry is magnified… edge of seat.. lack of traction – spin outs possible..

Then, brilliant days of sun… sun in our lives… with mebbe an occasional brief, rainbow-y Hawaii-like rain.. and the Rain-X is all we need.. nothing can wipe the smile from our faces – obstruct our way, our direction, our view.. Relaxation comes easy.. The view is so much clearer.. enjoyable… Auto-pilot… cruise control..

The rollercoaster.. The intermittent periods of life.. Faster, make them wipers go faster.. What’s that? A raise in pay?. Cool.. lemme turn the speeda these things down a bit… WHAT? So-and-so has been let go and I’M to pickup a sizeable chunka their work at the SAME rate of pay?.. Twist, faster wipers, faster…. Hump-thump-hump-thump-hump-thump….

Ahhh, the weekend… s l o w e r… a l i t t l e s l o w e r… Ahhhhh sun… Let’s have a nice cold one, no hurry to go, no hurry to do.. just be….enjoy…

Nighttime, panic, downpour – HELLLPPP!!! CAN’T SEE.. Bills, bills, bills… Family problems… health concerns… the parta the house needs this, that parta the house needs that.. FASTER BABY – FASTER.. swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash…

Morning time… I smell the coffee… I heard the paper hit the drive… regular.. I like regular.. sound of the familiar local TV anchors in the background… wardrobe waiting patiently for the decision… cats stretching to start their own day… (with intermittent naps)… no wipers needed…

I guess what I’m trying to tell myself… what them bastards tried to tell me when I hated Boy Scouts and dropped out to play baseball every day instead… “be prepared”… there’s all kinds of rains.. downpours.. Spring – flower producing rains… damned cold rains… freezing rain… soft, intermittent rain… hot/cold… fast/slow… sporadic/steady…

Life’s the windshield.. we’re the wiper –and we’re in control.. Change your blades frequently.. and keep the windshield washer fluid tank full… ready.. prepared… up, down.. highs, lows.. oh shit’s/oh baby’s.. OH NO, HELLLL YES..

swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash-swish-swash…

Happy ‘driving’, love Victurd

The Sport's Page and life.....

We ogres dress in our beloved team’s apparel… Tailgate, be it at home or actually in the Parking lot of the stadium… GLUE’ed to the game, whether from the comfy chair/remote tightly held to check on other scores during commercials/halftime… or from Section 132...

Then - the next day we SPRING to the door the moment the paper pounces on the pavement… and reread inch by inch - everything we saw from the games(s) we saw from the day before…

Sports can really be ugly… the NBA ref betting on games. The NBA quarterback killing dogs.. The boxer taking a bite outta another’s ear.. Guns, weapons, drugs, booze, performance enhancers….

Then a day like today happens… I open the Sport’s Page… somewhere between the 3 pages written on my beloved Missouri Tigers loss… and the weather on the back pagea the sports - comes logic, reason.. And wonderment… Hey, here's a "Where are they now?" article...

Brad Budde… now 49... Is a local kid who made good.. He hadta.. You see his father is in the Chief’s Hall of Fame… was All-Pro this.. All-Pro that… He hadta follow in his footsteps.. He did so.. Kinda…From Rockhurst High School.. To USC.. And drafted by his dad’s team.. The Kansas City Chiefs.. He wasn’t All-Pro.. Never played in the Super Bowl like dad. Really, almost a 'pedestrian' career (Yet 7 years in the NFL is nothing to scoff at…)

Glancing back.. Re relates - life is made up of seasons…he’s now in the ‘season’ of being a physical therapist, father and husband.. “This is probably the happiest I’ve ever been. I’ve found tremendous value in giving my gifts away instead of my gifts serving me. There’s beauty in success and failure - and that’s how you discover your strength in your faith. If you have a good woman beside you and a nice family of support, it doesn’t get any better than that.”

Let’s see.. The Wizard’s score.. Holyfield loses.. Three kids from foreign countries playing at Blue Springs South… oh yeah.. Here’s one… Clint Hurdle..

Clint Hurdle.. Now manager of the Colorado Rockies.. A tough road to hoe he’s led.. Labeled “Wonder Boy” in the late 70’s - his baseball career fizzled.. After landing in 1978 on the front cover of Sport’s Illustrated (“This Year’s Phenom”).. he stuck around for bits and pieces of 10 years in the majors.. Mostly as a late inning replacement.. Pinch hitter.. Ne’er living up to phenom.

Bouts with alcoholism, two divorces.. He struggled… but… he worked his way back up.. Starting in the base level as a manager in the minors - advancing thru every level - to finally arrive as a major league hitting instructor a few years back… and now finally manager - leading his team into this years World Series..

Lessons learned along the way? “Baseball is a game, and I’ve learned that. Let’s keep it a game.”

A Denver TV reporter dropped the words “crushing” and “debilitating” on Hurdle after a recent loss.. Hurdle’s take? “Crushing was when a doctor told me my little girl was born with a birth defect.” (Five year old Madison… born with Prader-Willi Syndrome.. A rare and complex genetic disorder that causes low muscle tone, developmental delays, morbid obesity,and cognitive disabilities…) Crushing. "That very day" (of the reporter's words)I'd gotten a call from a mother at Children's Hospital that wanted me to come see her son before he was going to pass that night. That's debilitating."

Texas clobbers Iowa State.. William Jewell knocks off Culber-Stockton... Two area guys got hole in ones.. Forecast today 78...

I knew there was a reason I loved the Sport’s Page. Happy Sunday, love Victurd.

Love, magnetism, feel and "oh baby"s......

Just like Romeo and Juliette…

Love makes the world go round… We all, probably, have been there..

Me thinks I’ve mentioned before I can fall in love twelve times during a short breakfast at the Piggly Wiggly… This passion has caused others consternation… and, it’s assuredly caused me consternation as well.. being on the dumped end…

Don’t care… I’m ready again…

Seena chicky in our lobby awaiting an interview.. fell again… GD I wish I had pull with HR.

Magnetism.. Reckon that’s kinda like love.. ‘Ceptin’ magnetism comes from both parties.. I’d be party to that again. Woah, sure had my halfa goin’ with the lobby lady…

When single, I feel moreso than when in a pair, the ups and the downs come with regularity.. The “I’ll probably never again”s are tossed about inbetweengst the “oh baby oh baby”s…

Was good to have a, albeit brief, oh baby moment. I can feel again. I feel it. Tis a good thing. It’s just a difficult thing to find that magnetism – and I’ve learned even more difficult to keep both parties enamored in that.

God Bless those of you who have entered into, and stayed in relationships with magnetism/love. Reckon we’re all students of life – and I hope I gradjagate to that someday… someday before I pee my pants and forget my name… someday while I can still… oh, nevermind. You get the drift.

May life be magnetic for you. And, may you find an opposite pole. Mind outta gutter, we’re talking magnet here.
Talk about love and romance
Just wait 'til I get myself straight
I'm gonna put Romeo's fame
Right smack-dab on a date

Ah, all right, now, I'm speculatin'
Wonder what tomorrow's gonna really bring
If I don't (if I don't) find work tomorrow
It's gonna be (gonna be) heartaches 'n' sorrow
Our love's gonna be destroyed like a tragedy
Just like Romeo and Juliet

Love, (and romance… and magnetism) Victurd…..

I been in the write place, but it musta been the wrong time…..

Just ain’t felt like writing… A confidence thing I rectum… Had a bit of a shock on the way home from Piggly Wiggly breakfast this morning… Stopped at the light… Green… went… noticed car beside me… looked over.. One young person (ok, 40-something, how’s that).. And three ‘dead people’ in there with him.. They were fighting to stay awake - I swear.. And just looking’ at ‘em.. You could see ‘em in their coffins… sad…

I/you possibly, are ‘tween that… the 40-something, and the dead-something.. Made me wanna peel out… dance… sing… walk… (close your ears) “that”… live… breathe.. Run… Victor, you can’t still run.. Screw you.. I’m getting’ an over fittie basketball team formed… ask them dead people… “hey, twenty five years ago, do you wish you’da played basketball? “What’s that sonny?”… uh huh, what I thought..

I’ma thinking’ we gotta keep movin’ to keep from being in the dead car... I seen dead people..

Movin’ today.. Me.. Four fellow High School hooligans headed to Columbia to watch the college football game between the University of Missouri and Nebraska… Will be 60,000 of us MU fans… and 10,000 Cornhuskers.. Good time… good eats… good drinks… good friends… good fun… movin’.. keep on a movin’…

Not long ago, 2001, I literally felt as if life was over.. Well… reckon I was wrong.. I wasn’t ready to be in that dead car.. It ain’t been remarkable - but I’ve had remarkable times… Drove to Biloxi, MS for a weekend of bliss… Been to the finest Bed and Breakfast in the state of Missouri, stayed in the finest room.. With the largest, blue lighted Jacuzzi you ever did see.. I went down the Mamba… Rode a horse.. Well, hope it counts even if the damn thing only stayed in the corner of the arena… Walked the French Quarters… The Katy Trail.. The 3-mile lap at Watkins Mill..

I’ve been privy to suites at the Chief’s games.. I’ve walked outta the Ameristar up a grand… I’ve camped next to the river… I’ve danced.. Same ole “too white - no rhythm, yet I still danced… I’ve been on dates in six states (Mo, Ks, Ia, La, Ms, Ar)… I’ve had BBQ’s, fancy dinners, dinners at joints you could write your name on the wall, outdoor diners, mom & pop joints, fast food joints, Piggly Wiggly breakfast.. Weddings.. Made out in a train car, a car, a truck, a van, an SUV, a boat..

Gifts.. Flowers.. “that”.. excitement… emails… notes… phone calls.. Overnights.. Weekends.. Live ins.. Swam in rivers, creeks, lakes, pools.. GoKarts, bowled, played softball, organized work outings to the Dogs, the Royals, a Sport’s park…

Bottomline, I guess, I ain’t dead… Dying.. We’re all dying… but I ain’t dead..

Gotta run… Victor, need we remind you you can’t run.. Screw you… I’m going to pack for the trip… and THEN, practice my crossover dribble you asswipe…

So we, the group ‘tween 40-something and dead - can continue to live/move/breathe, and stay outta the dead car. Here’s to living. Love, Victurd…

Dear mom......

My mother is here - but only in spirit. I shouldn’t use the word ‘only’ - ‘cause like virtually all moms - she was highly impactive in my life. Lucky I was - she just had this way of making a redheaded frecklefaced lefthanded kid feel special. Mom’s rock.

Mom - Friday Night I went with fellow hooligans to the Royal’s game.. We met at the bar (surprise surprise) and we sped out - arrived at the game in the top of the 2nd inning. Yes, I do remember how hard it was for you to awaken me in 7th grade - but you didn’t know what it was like to sit in Mr. Karsten’s Science class having no idea in heck what he was talking about.

T, C, and I mostly looked at women insteada fastballs and sliders during the game - and we know we’re in our fitties, but please know - it was just like we were at a HS football game - the excitement it held. Remember when I broke my arm playing football my Senior year after the 5th game and you felt so badly for me… but the truth was… I watched the final 5 games amidst the Pep Club. Had I known how much fun that was, I think I woulda feinted injury weeks earlier!

Saturday.. I went to work Saturday… I think I get that from you mom.. I remember your deadlines you had - and how the clock didn’t matter during those - and how you never-ever missed one… yet still you managed to fend for the household in a brilliant way. Does it count that I did go thru McDonalds for Maynard after work Saturday evening? (And I’m pretty certain I even remembered the trash last Thursday!)

Sunday… The Best… Mom, your sister’s daughter Joyce - had tickets for us all to the last Royal’s game of the year.. I know to some, that doesn’t sound exciting going to see the last place team the last game of the year… Do you remember my sophomore year though - when the World Series was first held during the day.. And I went to the office and said I had “the runs”.. and you picked me up waiving a roll of toilet paper out the window?

Buddy Bell, manager of the Royal’s… 56 yrs old.. Is quitting this day.. He’s been in pro baseball on a daily basis since he was 19 years old. You see mom, I’m kinda reminded of when you had your stroke and dad quit his job to fend for you (cooking, cleaning, making bucks selling cars outta the driveway).. Buddy’s wife had a scare a few years back with a cancer normally related to someone that uses nicotine.. She’d never used nicotine in her life - but the day she found out - Buddy never smoked another cig…

Buddy had a scare last year too -- he had throat cancer… so it wonderfully skewed his eyeballs as to how precious life is… Buddy - who will understandably miss baseball tremendously, it’s been his life, it was his dad’s life - can’t wait to get home to his 21 year old daughter who happens to have Downs Syndrome. He can’t wait to play catch in the yard with his grandkids. Do you remember mom, since dad traveled in sales the majority of his working career - how it was you that played catch with me in the yard? You actually weren’t bad… for a girl!

Anyways, they gave Buddy a present - and bid him best wishes… The Cleveland Indians, the opponents this day, were on the top step clapping ceremoniously… The entire Royal’s team came out for a big “group hug” around Buddy… Mom, I literally cried as hard Sunday as I did the day Brownie died… I could actually feel you there rubbing my back… The cry and the rub rocked…

Afterwards mom, I watched the Chiefs come back from 13 points down… Do you remember when I usedta run off to William Jewell when the Chief’s trained there and I’d catch Jan Stenerud’s kicks on the practice field? The association mom - it reminded me of you.

Mom, I’m sure you’re aware there’ve been occasional bumps in the road here since you left… but lemme tellya - I love life tons… I’m frequently reminded of you.. Especially when I write - cause I know I don’t hold a candle to your writing. You’re my writing hero (or would that technically be heroine?) And, I've found, no matter what one drives, there are bumps in the road...

It’s been so good to jot this note to you… Please tell dad I miss him.. And tell Vanda (my sister) that her grandson is the best damn football player in Grain Valley. He’s justa sophomore now mom - but he’s defensive captain, and last weekend, it almost got embarrassing how many times they called his name for tackles… I’m talking like 20+ mom. Hey, I SEE Vanda’s smile! Yes!

I better go now.. Kinda like the old days.. Always off running to this, to that… You see.. The hooligans and I are soon off to go see MU and Nebraska play… lotsa planning.. Gotta work on my pre-game exercises for my peripheral vision for more astute women watching!…

I loveya mom.. I missya mom… I’d give anything for a plate of your Spanish Rice mom… I’ll seeya someday (I hope) mom.. Love, Victurd.