Per that little redheaded snotnose.......

The sun'll come out
Tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar
That tomorrow
There'll be sun!

Optimism? Schmoptimism. MUST WE? I'm OLD... I WANNA complain, and, from attaining these wrinkles, bags under my eyes, "damn it's hard getting in and outta this car" I HAVE EARNED THE RIGHT TO GRUMP/GROAN/MOAN..."GD (gosh darn) gas prices"... "Damn saggers! Pull ur britches up, no one wants to see ur undies!"..

Just thinkin' about
Tomorrow
Clears away the cobwebs,
And the sorrow
'Til there's none!

NO! I'm sixty (almost). I'm sposedta bitch! I kinda wish I were Republican too, thataway I could even bitch/moan 24/7/365 about all the money I have that Uncle Sam wants. YES! Perfect!

When I'm stuck a day
That's gray,
And lonely,
I just stick out my chin
And Grin andSay,
Oh!

ICK... Slobbery. "Too perfect". Patoeey. "Why, back in my day, we'd have done it like this... ............" Remember? They even made a movie - Grumpy Old Men. I'VE EARNED THE RIGHT! Don't you DARE say hi to me, wing a comp, do an unsolicited favor... or, worst of all, smile at me.

The sun'll come out
Tomorrow
So ya gotta hang on
'Til tomorrow
Come what may
Tomorrow! Tomorrow!
I love ya Tomorrow!
You're always
A day
A way!

Ok, ok. Yes. Just kidding. Quoting Foghorn Leghorn "That's a joke. I say that's a joke son." I love life. I love smiles. I love old people, and sometimes I even love me. Tomorrow ain't promised, so hell, I guess we might as well cave into optimism.

So, have a little fun, lighten up. (Victor, don't forget to remind them that you talk to yourself here, hitchhikers welcome.) K, thanks. Fun? You mean like yesterday when we had that meeting at work, and when I tied that one chick's shoestring to the pole holding up the table? Yes, Victor. Fun like that. Your sister woulda been proud of you.

Thanks. I miss her. Until the day I getta see her again - it's my ardent wish to live life as she did, sucking up every moment, ounce of life. Fending off the BS, and smile back at it. Life is/should be fun. Gloomy out? The sun'll come out, tomorrow. Bet your bottom dollar, or so that little redheaded snotnose says. Love, Victurd.

Yummy.....

Threatening skies off in the distance... a rainbow guarding the way 'tween...

Butter pecan ice cream...

Puppy breath...

Fist bumps...

An engine that cranks every time you turn the key...

Toddlers with the giggles...

Rivalries, kinda... I've been so immersed in the MU/KU thing.. I'd forgotten about Louisville/Kentucky rivalry (they play each other Saturday in the Final Four).. I guess today, at a clinic in KY, two 70+ males, each in to get dialysis treatment.. were chatting... talk turned to basketball... one a Kentucky fan, one a Louisville fan.. a 'finger' was given, and soon they were in the middle of treatment in full fist warfare. Rivalries, albeit occasionally frustrating, are yummy.

Coconut cream pie.

"Play Ball".. the cracka the bat... the sound of a fastball landing in the catcher's glove.. "Take, me out to the ballgame, take, me out to the crowd".. 7th inning stretch.. Spring...

Invigorating folks...(I'm old, apologies, kinda) Chuck Berry, Ray Charles, Elvis, Buck O'Neill, the Beatles, the Stones, Andy/Barney, Dolly, JFK, MLK...

Finding a $20 bill in the pocket of the jeans outta the dryer...

A friend elated over overcoming a hurdle...

Kudos from higher ups...

Kudos from a working peer....

Kudos given to a working peer...

Smiles...

Emails in the inbox from folks that make u smile before you even read em...

The "Like" button..

People ur own age... people younger... people older... (And listening, learning from each)...

Friday, 5pm......

Intimacy... (sorry, kinda)...

Monday, 8am ("Thanks, I getta do it again")...

No alarm clocks, Saturday, Sunday.

Relatives, all varieties, distances, ages...

Chili cheese Fritos...

A 300 burger, Stroud's chicken, Jackstack pulled pork, Corner Cafe breakfasts, Ponaks, Hayes, Bryants...

Attending a Royal's game.. attending a Chief's game... Watching a game (anywhere) with a crowd that is 'into it'...

Love, all kinds...

Salted peanuts, cashews, pecans, that first cuppa coffee.. the morning paper.. the weather forecast.. the first contact of the day, and our reaction therein.

Cats that could give a rats about your whereabouts, feelings.

A vanilla ice cream cone........

Listening to elders talking about 'yesterday.'

The excitement in a grandchild's eyes, followed closely by reciprocal excitement of g-baby's folks...

Life...

The sun...

The moon...

The dark...

The alarm clock...

Friends...

I'm not all yummed out, but common sense tells me to stop....

Common sense...

Love, Victurd

When it's least expected.... you're elected....

Smile.

They say "love makes the world go 'round", me personally, I think that's prefaced by smile.

Smile is one of the most impactive things on the planet. No, not all agree.. but maybe we can agree to be different, and I'd love to state my case not in hopes of influence, moreso to simply explain (the view from my stinky sized 10's)...

There are varying degrees of smile. Ya walk up to Mickey D's, no eye contact, "may I take your order please".. versus... walking up, a genuine smile, eyes meet (I ALREADY LIKE YOU, THANK YOU FOR THAT. YOU'VE HELPED TO MAKE MY DAY!)...

There's the congeniality smile... it's Monday am, you've parked your car.. you make the dreaded trek to the cubicle.. you pass a coworker, be it in the parking lot or the hallway... a smile to you on your way draws yours, and you think to yourself "You have no way of knowing how large that plays.. I love you, and I'm fortunate to work with you." (Mebbe more later, but... remember, I write for me, to me, hitchhikers welcome... but I think that "I'm fortunate to work with you" should somehow be communicated, be it email, face to face.. or an email to a boss braggin on ur fellow coworker.)

Intimate smiles. Sure, been awhile, but I remember. Probably the best kind.. these smiles seemingly send us back into the day of raging hormones - not to mention giving us a keen sense of self worth, comfort.

"I have no idea whointhehell you are" smiles. These are among my favs. You hold the door open at Wally World, or, perhaps have it held open for you. NICE. Spread nice!.. You walk past a stranger - eyes meet.. "hi, howya doing" happens, smile happens. Yes. Yes. Good hearts giving good vibes, albeit knowing "I will never see you again" and never thinking that -- it's just the person they are... the person you wanna be.

Smile... in a group of friends.. you listen as you hear the one telling the story.. you're probably already heard it..you (maybe) "know where it's going"... a baby smirk happens.. and when they finish their oration, you're in complete smile.. you know them... you like them.. you've come to almost know what's gonna roll outta their mouth next... you smile. And for that, you are thankful.

A fun email. Smile. Something stupid, goofy, off-the-wall said at work, you smile. 5pm happens. You're exiting work - you cross paths with a coworker, you know work has been challenging, you're of the same ilk.. gladly... "it's 5pm, I'm getting the hell outta here" here's a smile for you as I realize you are too.

Grandparent smiles. There are none better, and yes, I'm including the "oh baby, oh baby" smiles here. Grandparent smiles are heavenly. You scroll back 20-30 some years and envision. You see the smile light up from your grandkid, followed very closely by the smile from your kid - and adding yours now makes it THREEFOLD. Days, months, years, mems get you to this point - but it's a point on the planet where you wanna yell, shout "HELL YEAH.. THIS IS "THE BEST!".. and it is. It doesn't make sense that a smile at age 6 months... 10 months.. 12 months... 15 months can be so damn impactive.. but they are. (And, changing the subject, should they get in one'a those grumpy, "I ain't happy moods" [rare, but happens].. you just say, "ahm, love you guys, but I gotta be going now"... I'm a grandparent, I can do that, but DAMN I loved the good mood, coos, smiles we just had! There is absolutely no feel on earth compared to being on the receiving end of a smile from ur grandchild.

Family. A given. With family, it's a bit more than a smile. It's adding in all you've been thru.. it's adding in yesterday... it's adding in ur common love for those that ain't no longer around... it's longevity.. it's love... it's meaningful..

I've heard more than once.. "Victor, you have a persistant 'shit-eatin' grin"... it's ok, I'll take that... and I'll take it as a compliment... None of us know what's going on in a person's life.. our friends often have no idea what's really going on in our own life. Smiles spread comfort. Feel good. Contentment.

Smiles, both given and received, (to me) are way more impactive than... the stock market... the presidential race... the NCAA basketball tourney... American Idol... the weather.. current events.. CNN breaking news... Easter, Memorial Day, MLK day, President's Day, Halloween... etc, etc.

Smiles help the innards. Smiles help the outtards. Giving one is a tremendous feel good... getting/receiving one: double that.

When it's least expected, you're elected - it's your lucky day.... SMILE..

Love, Victurd

Stuff I learned the hard way...... and the wonderful way..

Not a good idea to crack pecans with your teeth..

A 1997 Buick La Sabre with a broken gas gauge will go exactly 354.7 miles on a full tank of gas...

Companies that ain't making money get ridda employees...

Sometimes, when umpiring, a foul tip will bounce right in front of the catcher, bound up thru his legs, barely miss his behind, and land squarely...... well.. you know.

"Till death do us part" means different things to different people.

It's important to remember to lock the door at work when using the unisex bathroom.

When at red traffic light, turning right... even though traffic looks clear from left so you rev it up and go, it very important car stopped in fronta you think so too.

Cars make very funny noises when you're driving down road, think you're putting it in neutral, but accidentally hit "R".

A Volkswagen will definitely float, but it won't float indefinitely.

A Redbox movie turned in 5 days late can sometimes cost you $200 in overdraft fees.

You single, divorced, simply want human interaction on Christmas, Dennys is only choice.

When rearranging furniture in bedroom during day, always make sure bedroom light bulb operative for midnight pee.

Sports teams you cherish will give you every possible emotion there is.

Sometimes, you fill trusted one up with secret, he/she leaks.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Learned the wonderful way:

Vast majority of folks, very good.

Many, unbelievable in their loyalty, concern, compassion.

"You can count on me" upheld by many throughout a lifetime.

Blood perhaps is thicker than water, but many of us fortunate to have had some very wonderful in laws.

Aha, I remembered. There IS a new 4-pack of TP under the sink.

Work can be fun.

A job well done takes a team.

There's no feeling like having, holding your infant child.

There's no feeling like having, holding your grandchild.

Receiving one's smile goes a long way to making one's day.

Touch (of course, done properly) is a very good thing.

There's a special feel when, after some absence, seeing a family member again.

Seeing others happy is contagious.

Humor very definitely helps keep the blood flowing.

Blood flowing, at an old age, a very good thing.

Knowing when to say "when" when sitting at this damn keyboard.

Love (I've heard is a many splendored thing), Victurd

Tubthumping

We'll be singing, when we're winning, we'll be singing

I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
Yo're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down

Victor, you need to know, everyone doesn't think just like you. Ok. That said, I love this song. I use it to pump me up. When down, I CRANK IT. Life has it's way of rolling us bowling pins over. Song serves as a good reminder.

(Pissing the night away, pissing the night away)
He drinks a Whiskey drink, he drinks a Vodka drink
He drinks a Lager drink, he drinks a Cider drink
He sings the songs that remind him of the good times
He sings the songs that remind him of the best times
(Oh Danny Boy, Danny Boy, Danny Boy)

Sure, I do that too damn often, and liquor is pretty sad in that the perceived 'lift' is really a downer.. but, it's where I'm at. Will work on it. Tomorrow.

I get knocked down, but I get up again
Yo're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down

MU just lost to Norfolk State. Lemme repeat that, MU just lost to Norfolk State. As I peered at the bracket, I looked past Norfolk State.. asked... "hmmm, what about Florida?... Marquette?... Michigan State?... but.. Norfolk State? Hence, next verse...

(Pissing the night away, pissing the night away)
He drinks a Whiskey drink, he drinks a Vodka drink
He drinks a Lager drink, he drinks a Cider drink
He sings the songs that remind him of the good times
He sings the songs that remind him of the best times
(Don't cry for me, next door neighbour)

I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down
I get knocked down, but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down

Life has a way of knocking us down. Some things hit us smack in the gut. Loss of loved ones knock us to the ground. (Yucky) Things some say are impactive, never leave us. Trial/tribulation happnes. Thus, my love for this song.

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down (when we're winning)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down (ooh)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down (when we're winning)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
but I get up again
You're never gonna keep me down (ooh)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
You're never gonna keep me down (when we're winning)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
You're never gonna keep me down (ooh)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
You're ever gonna keep me down (when we're winning)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
You're never gonna keep me down (ooh)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
You're never gonna keep me down (when we're winning)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
Youre never gonna keep me down (ooh)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
You're never gonna keep me down (when we're winning)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
You're never gonna keep me down (ooh)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
You're never gonna keep me down (when we're winning)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
You're never gonna keep me down (ooh)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
You're never gonna keep me down (when we're winning)

I get knocked down, (we'll be singing)
But I get up again (pissing the night away)
You're never gonna keep me down (ooh)

A precursor on how to live life. A coaches pep talk pregame, halftime, during a timeout. A reminder from our friends, and to ourselves, we're gonna get knocked down.

We all get knocked down. We get up again, you're never going to keep us down.

Down happens. Chin up. Good follows bad (Even for Frank Haith and MU Tigers.. hey, we've got Dixon, Pressey, Bowers + recruits for 2013 SEC)...

If you get knocked down... Happens... Get up again, never let 'em keep you down.

Love, Victurd

Run, 1962 vs Run, 2012... a short story.

1962... anywhere, everywhere, anytime.

2012... Run? The hell is that?

1962... PE... the fifty yard dash.. the shuttle run... the 600 yard dash.. (until the day I die I will never forget Stanley Savage forgetting his tenny boppers, kicking our butts in his socks in the 600 yard dash)..

2012... PE? Not no, but hells no, I know ED, ADD, OCD, RA, COPD, and IBS... Mortgaged out the ying yang? We RUN to the bank on payday. Got that 'urge'? (ie, #1, #2).. Serious stuff at this age.. RUN or you'll regret it!

1962... Run to the City Park.. to William Jewell... to Ruth Moore... to Clayview... wave at every other car you see, as there's no doubt you know them.

2012.. Run, at the Piggly Wiggly (the other way), when you see someone four aisles down, that always remembers your name, and you have no idea/recollection of whothehell it is...

1962.. that 6th and final Coke bottle is emptied, off to Safeway to cash it in... Kick the can... Hill Dill.. Hide and seek... Hear a siren? Run across town to find it...

2012.. Hear a siren? Run the other way.. "Run" is technically changed - whilst it usedta involve your legs.. it now involves your gas peddle... your verbiage to a friend "I was runnin' like 60".. (and sadly, we do)..

1962... THE ICE CREAM MAN! RUN!!!!. New movie at the Plaza Theater... Hey, doesn't that guy play for the Chiefs? Let's RUN to get his autograph!...

2012... This errand, that errand, this bill, that bill, this phone call, that one, this chore, that chore... end of day we're tired "from all that runnin'"...

1962... SCHOOL'S OUT!... "Race ya to that tree?"... "Have you seen the new 62 Nova at Parrish Chevrolet? Come on, let's go!"...

2012... "Boss, I can't come in today boss... bad case of the runs"... "Why, these kids nowadays have everything handed to 'em.. I remember back in our day we ran everywhere.." Run: April 15th, Birthday, Winter, Black Friday: RUN!

Tune in, ten years from now (the Good Lord willing)... when it'll be "Walk, 1962 vs Walker, 2022"

I've loved every age. Why not... can't run from it. Love, Victurd

Got any spare change?

A preachment, dear friend
You are about to receive on John Barleycorn
Nicotine and the temptations of Eve
(ie, I write to myself, SURE-AS-HECK ain't putting anyone on pedestal, I'm reminding ME.. ty, ty)

Change. Life's all about change. Our age changes, we change our addy, our town, our user ID/Password (oh woe is me, now whereinthehell did I write that down).. we change places we store/save things..

We can change our spouses, our jobs, our hair color.. hell, some even change sexes.

Even if we flip our undies, mathematically, we're still changing them 3 and 1/2 times per week. Our cars, our toys, where we eat, what we eat, how we exercise, how we don't exercise... a Twenty.. a Fitty.. u got change for a dollar? (YEARS ago I coached women's college basketball... gal came up frantic before practice "COACH, COACH.. you got change for a dime?".... the hell (I said 'heck', thought 'hell') do u need change for a dime for? Oh... that. K, here. Victor, isn't that like the 12th time you've told that one? Reread your damn blogs for a change.

We can read books and attempt to change an aspect of our life we ain't so hot on. We can take classes, in hopes of changing our career.. We can rearrange, change our furniture.. We get married, change our names (how come it's the chick that's always forced to do that?).. The witch changed the prince into a toad.

We had to change planes at O'Hare. We change lanes at the grocery store when we hear "price check on 12".. get home from work, change into comfy clothes, slippers.

We change everything, almost. Oh sure, you hear "he (she) will never change" and we are creatures of habit in our ways, mindset, beliefs... Even the most headstrong amongst us changes over time.

The only thing I can think of we can't really change (well.. 'ceptin maybe the fact 'the woman is always right') is... yesterday. We can't change yesterday. We get one chance - today, and then it becomes yesterday - and there ain't no going back.

So Victor, you sometimes (oft-times?) depressed fool... smile... lots. You'll be glad tomorrow that you did today. See someone doing good? Let 'em know. Ya like the fact that someone really went all out to look good? Don't walk by and say "hi", damnit, tell 'em, "hey, you look good today,"

Read the obits today? Know anyone? Can you think of five people right now that you'd give anything to call 'em up on the phone but can't? Today becomes yesterday, and there's no changing that.

Victor, I've noticed you've said/written some dumb things of late.. as you walk thru today, don't do that. Don't blurt. Think twice before hitting 'send' on that email, or 'post' on that posting. K, I'll try. (You've got to change your evil ways - baby)...

The other day, someone posted a thingy, I REALLY liked it. Was picture of a doggy runnin' like the wind. Appeared as if he was damn near smiling. Caption was "Live... like someone left the gate open."

I likes that. A lot. If we did (Victor, that's preaching... you mean "If YOU did").. ok, ok. If we (I) relax.. if we (I) smile.. if we look for good.. if we praise others when it's deserved.. if we say stuff like "dang, you're really fun to work with".. "hey, I admire you because of ______".. "I've always liked the way you ____ and I've never told you so."

We have the power within to change our yesterdays - but it's imminent we do so today, for we can't change our yesterday.

So Victor, watch out for John Barleycorn, nicotine and the temptations of Eve. (Sorry.. some things will never change..let it all hang out).. .. but I'm gonna try my best today, to change tomorrow's yesterday... gotta go flip undies now.. happy day, as tomorrow it will be yesterday.. love Victurd.)

I like like.....

Seems when driving, the brain thinks about virtually everything else (other than paying attention to the road, oncoming traffic, speed, distance, yada).. Some'a the best thinking is done behind the wheel...

As I was driving home from bi-weekly breakfast at Mickey D's, my mind wandered to my granddaughter.. the past six months or so have seen her go from yucky formula, to wow-almost-any-every-thing.. How does one decide 'like'? I am certain there are foods that aren't to her pleasure - but why? What makes us like/not like things?

Clothing doesn't just jump off the rack into our hands.. the menu at the restaurant doesn't shout "pick me! pick me!" We don't pickup the phone and purposely dial those we don't like. We like for a reason. How come?

"Like" propels... In junior high, why I'll never know, but we plastered other's yearbooks with 'coc' if we liked them. Hehe. Like makes us smile, laugh, get a good tummy feel, breeds familiarity, makes us write 'lol', click a FB button.. date, hold hands, kiss, doink, be a parent. And the cycle begins anew.

Perceived like. I like my job, but find myself at times simply wishing I was out mowing grass on a golf course. Like the money where I work better than whadda greenskeeper makes, but I think I'd like it more.

Running with my lifelong buddies.. We have fun. We like it. We like each other. After so long, I'd like to do something else (too). Perceived like that I ain't so sure I like as much as I usedta, and don't mean that derogatorily about anyone.

Just like the "date, hold hands, kiss, doink thing".. sometimes we fall outta like. (Witness #1 and #2)... What makes one no longer like? I guess you can "de-friend" on Facebook, but you can't unclick the 'like' button.

I'm unique, just like you. We like many different things. Some in a crowd can be happy tucked neatly away in a corner, others love love love (or like like like) the limelight. Flashy clothing, mundane same ole same ole. Tats, no tats. Sports, politics, yes, no. Like, don't. Teeter, totter. Left lane on Interstate, close enough to see your ear hairs, ten miles over speed limit.... right hand lane, one and a half car lengths back per 10mph, ten miles under speed limit. New car, clunker. Car. Truck. Some even like bike.

Some even like 'like', and are attempting to get laws passed to wed. Hey, it's cool by me, who am I to force 'like' on others? (Don't you dare mention 'coc' Victor... ok, won't.)

Like seemingly is learned internally, handed down, rubbed off from others, and simply a response from our senses. I really liked the idea of writing this blog, now I ain't so sure. Are you like that?

That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh. I, selfishly, like to be liked. On the other hand, I know others that could give a rats. They like not caring, I guess. So, that's kinda bassackwards, but "I like not being liked." Whatever Howard. Oops. Slipped, sorry.

I'd like to go now. Gonna fetch my granddaughter, we're going to a breakfast buffet. I wonder what she'll like. Life is a buffet, kinda-sorta. That's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like it, uh-huh, uh-huh. Love'n like, Victurd

Life as an old, single fart, on Valentine's Day.........

Drum roll.... throw pity my way? Nah, hardly.

2/13/2012. Mentioned on Facebook I got outta shower, HATED what stared back at me in mirror.. "That's NOT me!.. I usedta high jump... over 6' for goodness sakes!.. I usedta be kinda of a "V".. shit, now I'm an "O"... or turned another way, maybe a "b".. crap...

Then... went to work... snow... those of that made it in...... company sprang for pizza... in addition to GS cookies and chocolate covered cherries on file cabinets... screw working out, I'll start 'tomorrow'....

2/14/2012... In keeping with tradition of this blog, and the name therein... the heater blower fan on my car went out en route. Crap. Laughed. What more can u do? Took stored napkins out, wiped condensation from inner windshield...happened to have a 2nd winter coat in car.. made my legs toasty.. made it in.

Lo and behold.. 4 dudes.. 7 ladies in our department.. treats... the 7 brought treats.. heart shaped fudge brownies.. cream filled cupcakes... TWO party trays with summer sausage, pepperoni, crackers, cheese.. a buncha chocolate thingies..... yum.

Today, 2/14 is my ex's birthday, so I teasingly said "Did you do this 'cause it's Marilyn's birthday?" (Apologies to any ex inlaws that may read, please know I love you)... gotta laugh.. "Yes, that's why."

A regular ole day, but everyone upbeat. A very good thing.

So, now home, solitary. All, still very good.

Recently, I said to myself, "self, you've been going into the office for like 6 Sundays in a row... and you referee little turd's basketball on Saturdays... do you realize you ain't had a day off since New Year's Day?"

No, didn't. Relaxation needed.

What could be the very next best thing to "being coupled" at damn near age sixty on Valentine's Day? Ray. That's what.

I put my feet up on the ottoman. I went to YouTube. I searched Ray, as in Ray Charles. Yes, I'm old. Don't care. Ray moves me. Ray relaxes me. Ray pumps me up. Ray makes me think "good gosh he's awesome... to have his 'limitation' and to be so in love with life.. to be so happy... and to be so friggin' talented"... wow... . makes my pitfalls minuscule.. .

His music relaxes me. Pumps me up. Makes me feel good. Makes me happy. Reverberates thru me... Makes me wish he was still with us.

Georgia... America The Beautiful.. What I Say.. Song For You... Hit The Road Jack... I've Got a Woman... My Bonnie.. I Can't Stop Loving You...

Ray Charles.. one of the very few artists.. u listen to his stuff... doesn't matter "original studio version"... live from a TV show in the 60's... 70's.. in concert the 80's... even the 90's... his stuff is special.. (I'm a youtube addict. I go to my favorite artists, 7 times outta 10 their live stuff is crap. Not Ray.)

Victor? Do you think anyone really cares about what you're saying here?

Ahm.. Dearest chocolate covered strawberry breath, you've missed why I'm here. I write to me. For me. Hitchhikers welcome. U no likey, quoting Snagglepuss, 'exit, stage left'....

Ray.. his music.. his life.. his demeanor.. reminds me of the lesson (And it hits home on this, Valentine's Day)... "Don't worry about what you don't have."

Ain't. Thanks Ray. Happy Valentine's Day. Love, Victurd

I need a tickling.....

I actually had one person say "why aren't you writing any more?"... I just KNEW someone read this damn thing once!

Sometimes life likens a manual transmission that simply won't go into gear. Winter has been a manual transmission that won't go into gear. Please 'shift', get it on so we can be done with it!

With all the poo that's occurred in life, I just ain't had the itchin' to (again make a fool of myself here) write. Relatives in a very, very bad car accident. Death of friend, too young, very unexpectedly. BFF's mom passing. Too many friends of friends, loved ones of friends passing.

Much smaller scale: Two of us at work, do the same thing. An old boss sought my buddy out at the end of November, made an offer he couldn't refuse. I've been attempting to do two people's job ever since, and it ain't working so great. Notice a pattern here? The damn car won't go into gear.

Victor, FORCE yourself to try to be funny... sorry, can't.

Reflecting on all this - it does tend to make one more appreciative of when good happens..

My big calendar at work has this plastic thing that goes across whatever week it is.. and within that, there's a small 'window frame' so you can slide and highlight the present date as a reminder. I was recently walking out on a Friday, started to switch the calendar to Monday's date, then thought to myself "nah, Monday ain't promised."

Since Monday ain't promised (and please remember I write to me, that one hitchhiker welcome to come along) "Victor, remember to walk with a smile.. whistle... meet/greet.. when shit happens, look for good. Don't sweat the small stuff... Call a friend, loved one, ya just never know what day it will be you won't have that chance. You see someone doing good, let them know. Start again your stupid backhanded way with friends, coworkers, customers, vendors.. stating "you're always in a good mood, the hell is wrong with you?!!"... "

Mostly, remember Monday ain't promised. Smile, cause one day the calendar runs out on us all. Thanks for the tickle. Car in drive now. Bring on a Nor'easter, think I can handle it now. For every hill there's a valley. Not so much fun going up, titillating going down. Good follows bad. You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up. Love, Victurd

Now wait just a dadburn minute.........

Yeah, wait a sec... I ain't real up to snuff on verbs, nouns, tenses - that stuff - think this one (wait) has multiple of them. Mind had a hard time waiting in school. Couldn't wait to go, do, have fun. Hadta. Obviously, didn't listen.

Wait is a yummy word, sometimes. Sometimes not. Waiting at a restaurant, airport security check-in line, at the Dollar Tree with 32 other customers in a single line whilst one chicky rings up the goods - and, two other employees 'busy' stocking. Really? "Hi, I love coming here, but we're kinda tired of waiting for you, would you be so kind to git ur butt over here and man a register? You know, wait on us?" I haven't arrived at the speech yet, getting closer though. Can't wait.

Once heard, for every minute one waits, it feels like three. Good thing I don't work in customer service. Oh crap, wait a minute, I do. I hate to wait. At walk-in place of fancy restaurant.. "yes, party of two.. last name 'Starving' "... Wait till her eyeballs catch mine on that one! Victor, you've used that here before. Bite me, just wait, I will repeat again. Bite me, just wait, I will repeat again.

Two lanes at McDonald's drive thru. Life goes to hell, no fun. I'LL BE DAMNED IF THAT CAR GOES AHEADA ME, I FINISHED ORDERING AT LEAST 20 SECONDS BEFORE THEY DID! I hate to wait. Nerves, tense, seconds feel like minutes. Sweat. Groan. Moan. Belly upset. Almost to the point of risking a fender.

She used to wait down at the Dew Drop Inn. The wait staff was very professional.

Wait. Hold ones breath. Close ones eyes. Mark off days on calendar.

Wait for some is a means to pass time in depression. Close ur ears, I know, been there. Can't wait for bedtime so ya don't have to think, speak, feel, emote, dread, consciously breathe. Just sleep. Effortless. Sometimes addictions are involved in the wait.

"WAIT" is an exclamitory expression too - like when one thinks, "nuh uh, what you just said ain't right. WAIT!" He left his bank card. WAIT!

Christmas, can't wait. Hurry up Friday, tired of waiting for you. Loved one overseas in the service - counting the days - waiting. You call a business, explain your dilemma in a minute or so, then hear "Ok, wait just a minute" put on hold. WHAT? What the hell do you do? And why are you getting paid to handoff? Quarterbacks get paid to do that, but they also take hits, throw, block, run too. On hold. Mind wanders, company ad plays over and over again spouting about their wonderful customer service - yet, you wait and wait.

"You'll just have to wait".. A common parent statement. I want what I want, and I want it NOW. Nope, sorry, you're gonna haveta wait.

She waits on him hand and foot. Killed many a good marriage that waiting has. After awhile "why" creeps in. Then, the word 'creep' creeps in. Talk to lawyer, wait for finality, settlement.

Single, divorced - can't wait. Sorry, haveta. Payday, can't wait. $orry, gotta. I can't wait to be 16, 21, 30, 59 and 1/2 (can dig into puny 401K), 65.

Canardly. Meeting at work. Doing taxes. Getting license renewed. I canardly wait. Have to's = waiting. Can't wait. Gotta. Canardly get around it.

Text waiters. I love young folks, I do. "Kids" nowadays treat us geezers VERY nice. But, damn, them pups are ADDICTED to their cell phones - awaiting "what's next?"... Watch 'em sometimes - hands can't lay off of 'em for more than 72 seconds.

Waiting, killing time until I go referee 1st and 2nd grade basketball. Yummy to me, can't wait. I love little kids enthusiasm, spunk, fervor. Some parents attend begrudingly. "Yeah, gotta soccer tournament I've GOT to go to this weekend." No, you've got that wrong, you GET to go to. Should be you canardly wait to go.

For the record, I've peed three times during this - waiting for my brain to lemme know what to type next. That's better than this morning at Mickey D's though... had to go to the restroom, the sit-down variety - some feller stayed in there for like 7 years. My face got red awaiting. You know, I finally got to get up, walk in. Took those short, butt-tensed steps -> "oh Lord I'm a geezer and this is very hard for me.. PLEASE help me make it there!"... The older one gets, seems the less time between 'urge' and 'actual'. Very little 'wait' time. Kinda a return to infancy. I'm not skidding, er, kidding.

Waiting really can be fun though. I loved loved loved people-watching this morning as I waited at Mickey D's. Everyone goes thru life uniquely. Everyone looks different. Speech, emotions, discipline, lack thereof.. smiles... different socio-economics.. attractive.. ugly (sorry, happens)..

Noon - time to watch MU play basketball. Been waiting. Will wait listening for one hour, then off to referee. Do so with my best friend forever. We usedta go/ref and stare at the moms in the stands. Now.. we stare at the grannies. Hehe. Can't wait. Guess i gotta.

Happy waiting to you. Victor, you're very weird. Yeah, I know, was kinda waiting for you to say that. Love, Victurd.

Christmas is.....

Grandmas.. (And grandpas).. Siblings.. Cousins.. Aunts.. Uncles.. "Drawings' to see what family gets to sit where to open gifts... The specter of granny's cedar tree - the liquid bulbs.. and the finality of adorning with silver tinsel... Dogs all dressed with ribbons and bows..

Dinner around the big table, extra chairs pulled in from other rooms... no elbow room.. little ones giggling.. food aplenty.. furnace running...

Anticipation.. fervor.. love.. treacherous trips thru single lanes with two tire tracks... race car tracks.. electric train tracks... 8 tracks.. tracking in snow...

Helping dad hang the lights.. A neatly laid pallet on the floor Christmas Eve, so Santa simply could not be missed. Milk and cookies left out for him... Sleeping thru his commotion, and awakening mom/dad at 4:30am with "WE'RE READY!"...

Paper strewn everywhere, soon to be gobbled up by a recycling granny... Comparison (of sibling's gifts, cousin's gifts).. Smiles aplenty of young ones - which in turn brought smiles from parents - as little did we know it'd been a rough year and they worried we might not produce those smiles...

At age seven, one believes "it will be like this forever and ever." Some time later, a (said lovingly) rotten cousin dishes out the news "there ain't no Santa", makes fun of those of us still believing.. But HA! One day many years later - that belief is reinstilled!..

It's Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, Doris Day, Nat King Cole, Dean Martin, Burle Ives.. George Bailey, Ebenezer Scrooge, Tiny Tim, The Grinch, Kris Kringle,

It's picking out special gifts for special people.. A Christmas Service.. A serviceman home for Christmas.. Love... Family.. Blood.. Bond..

The cycle continues as we become parents - and somehow we manage to make it through Christmas Day on 3 hours sleep after being awakened at 4:30am with a bellyache from too many cookies and milk. It's sacrifice in September, October, November, December to make Christmas happen...

The repetitive "special gifts for special folks"... Ralphie.. Clark Griswald, Kevin McAlister Home Alone.. Buddy/Elf.. Del Griffith/Planes, Trains.. The Chipmunks, John Denver, The Carpenters, Bruce Springsteen, Charlie Brown...

One by one, loved ones are lost. NEVER replaced - but, now more high chairs around the table.. As grandparents, we now get to snooze in until the 7am phone call to learn what presents they got... Shopping as a grandparent is FUN. I don't give a damn if I'm a month behind on the gas bill, my grandchild just HAS to have that!

Somehow - as we age, our eyes get more youthful. Things we enjoyed as kids - are absolutely just as enjoyable now.. Somehow, somewhere, at some point - we become a kid again...

Seeing one's kids be parents, the best. Seeing their glee attained from the glee of their children - priceless. Yes, we're now aware it won't "be like this forever and ever" - but, we will forever and ever hang on to memories of Christmas present AND past.

Christmas is visiting. Oft times its with those we usedta see every day - but no longer do, so the visit is 'specialer.' I know that ain't a word, should be. Harkening back to yesteryear. It's seeing/hearing those that aren't here any longer - vividly. The more Christmas changes over the years, the more it stays the same.

Christmas is happy tears.. Very commercial - sure.. but very special. As we age, even specialer. Merry Christmas, love Victurd.

Hello... Sarah?

Yep, Andy, Barnie, Opie, Aunt Bea... Floyd... they all usedta holler at Sarah to get connected with another soul.. Then we went rotary... Next, push button... Cordless... Pagers/Beepers.. Bag phones.. Now, phones do everything ceptin' maybe have sex with you... and I ain't up on all the newfangled techniques – hell, they may do that too now and I don't even know.

Getting at: touch. No, you pervert, not that kinda touch – the kinda touch where friends, loved ones, coworkers, former coworkers, siblings, aunts/uncles, grandparents, grandkids simply reach out and touch someone - instantaneously. (Catchy phrase, mebbe someone could use that.)


Facebook. Color me smitten. Smitten as a way to keep up with lives of many. Those older, younger, wiser.... faster... similar... married.. single... widowed.. fellow MU fans.. chickenhawk fans.. Liberty-ites.. nearby... faraway (usedta be nearby, still are at heart).. As I peruse FB I wonder “from what little nook and cranny (what person) from my life, our lives (past/present) will pop up next?”

“Nah, I signed up, but I don't get on there.”... “A waste of time... I've got access in real life to all those I needta have access to.”

Color me, not among that group. I love coming here, blabbing here, reading here.. sharing here... learning here.. laughing here... I just love 'here'... Kinda like caller-ID even. Can choose to answer, or not. Seeing the little (1) in parentheses up there is cool, cause for wonder, mebbe even excitement.

My beloved father, may he rest in peace, always said I was easily led. Very true pops, I love following my buddies, loved ones... Thank you to whomeverinthehell invented Facebook. It's a trip to the Corner Bar, relatives on each Coast, yesterday, today, past jobs, present job, old school chums, pics of (babies, young'ns, folks, grandparents, friends, friend's friends.) – all rolled up in one.

To my friends who post, don't post, read, write (even the Chickenhawk variety) thanks for being you. I enjoy you, Facebook. Sarah, I reckon, was Facebook, when FB wasn't cool. She musta known anything and everything about everyone in Mayberry R'FB'. I'd follow that, I'm easily led. Love, Victurd.

Go ahead, make my day…..

I started to write “dunno why I’m sharing”, but, I do. A friggin’ feel good. Seems sometimes, there tain’t enough of ‘em.

At the Piggly Wiggly this past week….. walking out to car…. say, ya ever see a face that ya’ ain’t seen since forever, and you’re 99% certain that person is from your yesteryear, and you’re mebbe a tad hesitant to say anything?

Happened to me the other day… . YEARS ago I worked for the local Park Department. Summers in HS and College, and even a few summers thereafter. Talking like late 60’s, early 70’s…..

Traversing across town from Park to Park, ya ran into kids. Some wanted nothing to do with us cheesy Maintenance employees… others couldn’t run fast enough wide-eyed up to our truck to find out what task we were there for that day.

I’ve always loved being around snotnoses.. Arnold Hammond was onea those termites from back in the day. Of our all-time favorite “park department snotnoses”, he, and fellow playmate Wayman Bright were at the very top of our list.. Gorgeous smiles on eacha those kid’s faces every time we crossed paths.. Inquisitive, upbeat, fun… Each child quite bright.. It, quite frankly, was a fun time in each of our lives….. Arnold and Wayman were of the ilk they’d “come’a runnin” to greet us each and every time…

Hesitancy aside (at the Piggly Wiggly the other day)… I kinda-sorta whispered “Arnold?”.. he stopped, turned.. then he gave me one of those who-in-the-heck-are-you (thru squinted eye) looks.. I approached, arm extended.. “It’s Vic, from long ago at the Park Department”..

BOOM.. THERE THAT HUGE SMILE (& WIDE EYED LOOK) WAS AGAIN! Bout broke my damn hand shakin it, but it’s cool.. was very nice to rediscover this friend. Made my day that HE TOO remembered the very good times from back in the day.

Little looms large. Happy day, love Victurd.

Oldzheimers...

Seena buddy and his wife yesterday... for years, AND YEARS, we played softball together (and before that, little league for oodles and oodles of years).. . Of course smiles on all three faces – hands shook.. a quick check on “how was your Thanksgiving?”... theirs/mine, very good. Then.... oh shit, her name momentarily escaped me. Wanted to ask about their son too, but – same problem – oldzheimers.

Last Wednesday.. “Tom, what's the quickest way to Metro North?”.... Victor, be for real. You've lived here, what? FITTY NINE YEARS? I know, but I'm getting oldzheimers.

This Wednesday.. Party at Weasels.. been there thirty – forty times. “Hey, refresh my brain, how do you get there” Geez Louise..

I reckon that happens at this age. I think, contributing too, I've had too many damn jobs, too many damn wives (I know, only two.. but that's boo koo siblings, aunts, uncles, kids.. yada).. I'll see someone, harken back.. “yeah.. I remember we worked together... but crap... was it United Airlines or Eastern Airlines?”

Been bolted down at present job now ten years. Still, someone will bring up a name of a past coworker.. “huh uh.. I'm sorry, I don't remember her.” I'm mid-Oldzheimers.

I think too, representative of how fleeting life actually is. Wiz.. bang... twirl... whaula – we're allofasudden in our later years. Crap.

I was gonna try to find a song that fit... you know... about how fast time does fly... and about how we need to STOP.. realize TODAY IS THE DAY.. make it memorable...... take pictures with the eyeballs... FREEZE FRAME.. yeah, that song'll work.. Nope, it didn't.

Time has come today lyrics? I've been loved and put aside (Time)
I've been crushed by the tumbling tide (Time)
And my soul has been psychedelicized (Time) .... Well, uh huh, those things happened, but not my point today... The point is.... people leave. People get older. Things change. TAKE PICTURES with your brain. Stop. Enjoy.

Slow down, you move too fast
You got to make the morning last
Just kicking down the cobblestones
Looking for fun and feeling groovy
Ba da da da da da da, feeling groovy.........

That kinda-sorta works... Again, the point is... we move too fast.. Things change so fast.. We think EVERYTHING will be this way – forever.. And it ain't. I mean hell, I can hardly remember what my most recent ex's boobs look like. Victor... did you just type that? I think you did. Don't you remember your dear Aunt, Uncle come here.. Your cousin.. Your neice... I'd be ashamed... Looking for fun and feeling groovy - Ba da da da da da da, feeling groovy.........

No pun intended (ok, mebbe intended)... it's about “the point”..

Hustle, bustle, this job, that friend, their kids.. their mates.. this person that works at the joint you go to...this coworker, that coworker.. Monday... Thursday... January... July... . 1985... 1999... 2006... TIME FLIES..

I think it's time we stop, children, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down

We better stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, hey, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, now, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down
Stop, children, what's that sound
Everybody look what's going down

Oldzheimers happens. We forget things. People. Names. Addresses. Directions. Moments.

(As always, I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome).. Stop. Make it a point to take a picture with your eyeballs. Smile as you do. Life is fleeting. Keepin that in backa the brain just might help one smile, observe, remember and enjoy as we go.

Gotta go now. Taking my beautiful granddaughter (and her folks) for pizza. Now whereinthehell are my keys?

Looking for keys and feeling groovy - Ba da da da da da da, feeling groovy.........

Oldzheimers happens. Love, Victurd.

Rescue me

Oh take me in your arms
Rescue me
I want your tender charms
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue
I need you and your love too

Sand... pea gravel.. pebbles... rocks... boulders.. mountains...

I wish I had a girlfriend/boyfriend.. I wish I had a new (car, house, job, outfit, pair of sneakers).. Sand. Written it before (sorry).. reporter asked longtime (VERY successful) NWMSU coach Mel Tjeerdsma “Can you give me three things to help me be successful in life?”... #2 was “don't worry about what you don't have, focus on what you do have.” Thanks coach, liked that, needed to hear that. Most problems are sand.

Come on and rescue me
Come on baby and rescue me
Come on baby and rescue me
'Coz I need you, by my side
Can't you see that I'm lonely
Rescue me

Pea gravel. Mebbe nowhere to go for Thanksgiving. Distance. Finance. Time. In the way. Again, minute probs...


Come on and take my heart
Take your love and conquer every part
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue
I need you and your love too

Pebbles... Illness. Confined.. Injury. No money. Transportation, lack therof. No phone. Pebbles make baby ripples in the water.

Come on and rescue me
Come on baby and rescue me
Come on baby and rescue me
'Coz I need you by my side
Can't you see that I'm lonely

Rocks. Aging, limitations. Empty chairs at the dinner table that used to be occupied by loved ones. Mothers, fathers, grandparents, siblings.. perhaps even a spouse or child...

Rescue me
Oh take me in your arms
Rescue me
I want your tender charms
'Coz I'm lonely and I'm blue
I need you and your love too

Boulders. Chris Herren is a good man. Born in 1975. Chris Herren is an addict. Ever getta chance to see the documentary on his life on ESPN, by all means run to it. Gripping. Extemely sad, but happy ending... so far. Grew up in Massachusetts a high school basketball legend. Landed a scholarship at his beloved Boston College. Alcohol got in way. Then drugs. Scholarship revoked. Fresno State, under “Tark.”.. Three years of good play/results camouflaged his addiction. NBA draft, 2nd round, Denver. The 'amateur' drugs now replaced by more hard core ones. Marriage. Traded to Celtics, the dream of all dreams of MA schoolboys.

Addiction worsening. Released after one season. Basketball overseas. More addiction, more children. Whenever funds ran out.. it was wife's jewelry, or son's Play Station to the pawn shop to gain bucks to support his habit. Modesto, CA, 2008. Wife, three kids fly into airport to meet him. He's embarrassed, lost. Told himself "I should probably never see them again."

Been thru two heroin induced car accidents, awakened from incoherence by Police. He chooses not to go to airport. To liquor store, found sleeping in an alley some hours later. Rehab. A slip. More rehab. Now sober since June 4, 2008. In June of 2009, he launched “Hoop Dreams with Chris Herren” a basketball player development company to mentor players on and off the court.

For an addict, everything is 24 hours at a time. Blessya Chris, and bless your wife for seeing the good. The rescue. Boulders.

Come on and rescue me
Come on baby, take me baby, hold me baby, love me baby
Can't you see that I need you baby
Can't you see that I'm lonely
Rescue me

Come on and take my hand
Come on baby and be my man
Cuz I love you cuz I want you
Can't you see that I'm lonely?
take me baby
love me baby
need me baby
Can't you see that I'm lonely?

Driving to work the other day. “Military Mondays” on the station I listen to. The DJ, a car dealer, a Veteran affairs guy. Each week, they pick a vet in need, and furnish them with a donated, used (but certainly drivable) car.

This specific week, a Navy vet. Seven years in the 1970's. Recently learned terminal cancer. “Six months to a year.” He here (KC), son in Branson, no wheels. “I just want to be able to see, visit my son with what time I have left.”
Mountains. Car donated.. a happy end, kinda.

rescue me, rescue me.......

As always, I write to me, hitchhikers welcome. When down, and life's Rescue Me's lyrics ring in my/your/our head – look around. In all likelihood, a bigger problem, rock, boulder, mountain.. out there. Happy Thanksgiving, love, Victurd.

I like going downhill just fine.

“On the downhill side.” Pardon me, but.. doesn't one go/move faster when going down the hill? Ain't it more exhilarating? Aging is wrinkly, sure – but there's a lot to look forward too on the ride. As one goes, anywhere, much more time to observe... see... it ain't so much a race any more to GET THERE. Relax, kick back, learn s'more if ya want, don't if ya don't wanna...

I love watching moms/dads in the aisles of stores as they attempt to sequester their young'ns.. Upon occasion, I can almost hear them thinking “yes, that passionate lovemaking was awesome, but THIS is what we get for it?”.. After a bit of (repeated) consternation tween mom/3 year old the other day I even heard “God.. I sound just like my mother.” Hehe. Haha, I'm going downhill, I ain't gotta keep 'em in the herd. I ain't gotta fling/wing them frequent “No”s! I'm aging... see my wrinkles? Watch me go down hill.......... WEEEEEEEE!

Laughter. Comes easy at an older age. We possess the ability to laugh at ourselves. Aging has taught us 'pride is hard to swallow, but it will go down.' “Chores” nowadays are: tying our shoes.. getting in and outta the damn car... using a fourth'a tanka gas to find a spot no further than 3 spaces away from the Piggly Wiggly door – and laughing about it all as we do.

The excitement of observing youth is a both a sedative and an upper. I could observe my ten month old granddaughter all day – and dote in her quest to learn this, feel this, taste this, go here, back there, up there, down there... learn.. she wants to learn. Have some fun baby... going uphill is a blast too.

Racing downhill as we age, I've found oft times we need to visit 'the facilities' with more frequency, and with occasional panic. We've memorized exactly where the squatters are at WallyWorld, on 291 Highway... and the dreaded “redlight row” of 152... and exactly how much time it takes to get from Flintlock to the closest restroom door. How many paces it is from notions, to the W-World restroom.. Our bellies speak to us, remind us, impel us.

Speakin' o bellies.... I've found it's harder'n harder to pass up goodies, treats as I go downhill.. Yum. Look at me in the mirror wouldya? A bit of a belly budge.... Some creases in the face, forehead.. what the hell is one more donut gonna hurt? Halloween candy on the cabinets at work. Yum. Hurry up and get the hell outta the way Jane, that Snickers bar is MINE! Eh, I'll walk it off later.

Smiles... seeing.. giving... they are no longer for “in passing”... they're for treasuring. Blinders are off going downhill... No grocery lists to fret over... no worries about “is the soccer uni clean?.. paper in the printer for their homework?...what time is it? What's next.? Am I forgetting something?.. we getta stroll at our leisure, stop when we wanna... stay however damn long we wanna (or don't)... yes, I'm enjoying this downhill ride.

Trick or treat. Yes, we do that as old farts. Young punk at work pranked my voicemail the other day. HA! Game on woman! Do you have any idea how many 'wav' files show up on Google? I too love the chance to offer the “must be an ID ten T error..” at work when asked a fairly stupid question. Huh? (They ask... “ID ten T error?”)... sure.. write it down.. or here, lemme write it for you: ID10T error.

Treat. Old farts treat. Pay it forward I reckon. I must look pity-full... in the last year I've been given: a leather sofa, chair, Ottoman.. washer/dryer.. oodles of very, very nice hand me down clothing..Royals tickets.. in an hour I leave for MU, 2 sixty dollar tickets and a parking pass, yippee.. Next Sunday night, 2 tickets for the Chiefs game. Damn - people are nice in this downhill thing. Little looms large in aging.

Mr. Buck O'Neil, as he went downhill... for obvious different reasons, phrased oh so perfectly “I was right on time.” Would I like to be 20? 16? 35? 40?... tyvm, but I'm very happy, comfy with this downhill. I LOVED those ages – and thanks to them, I is who I is now – and I gladly trade the wrinks above my mouth in memory of those fun moments then.. and now, alla the ones ahead... Downhill, pun mebbe intended, is a gas. Grab your skateboard Ethel... this downhill stuff is the bomb. Love, Victurd.

Occupy this.......

I gotta friend... daughter was gonna go to High School Homecoming with a fine lad... but... this lad gotta B- on his report card, and that didn't cut it for his folks.. thus.. “You ain't going”....... Nose to the grindstone, occupy your books.

Holy crap Batman... had that been me, in high school... I never woulda went anywhere/anytime, and I woulda learned, by memory, every Johnny Carson monologue there ever was. I've always been, what I lovingly refer to as C... C+ smart. Ok, bite me, maybe C- upon occasion.

I haven't followed this Occupy crap... don't wanna follow this Occupy crap... I'm occupied with other things. Go ahead, color me C-, C, C+ smart, and.......I don't really give a rats that I don't keep up. Occupy your occupy all you want, nomme.

Occupied, to me.. is pulling in, hustling outta the car to the Phillips 66... damnit.. red “Occupied” sign is on the restroom door... Clerks are entertained for a few minutes whilst some fitty-nine year old geezer in backa the store does the pee pee dance... and wuah-lah, FINALLY “vacant.” Whew.

At the Twin Drive In in high school... u look over at the next car... don't see any heads, yet the windows are all steamed up = occupied.

Victor... don't wear us down with your marriage squabbles... sorry.. u made it this far, ur stuck. “I did everything” (she said)... Ok. But I taught PE, coached... came home exhausted, and there at the door at 6pm-ish with ball bat (or basketball, or football) in hand.. the little ones.. So, whilst dinner was cooked, whilst maybe yeah, the floor was vacuumed – I OCCUPIED the little (said lovingly) snotnoses.

Daily, nightly, in my spare time. I did this at every house we ever occupied. I was the in home PE teacher, coach, catch partner, checkers, Atari, Old Maid, tiddly winks, sledding, swimming, playmate.. buddy... 'supervisor'.. recreation coordinator, homework supervisor.. I occupied 'em...

Did this, yes, whilst occupying the job of teacher, coach... little league coach... referee/umpire for extra money... so we could have extra money to continue to occupy our house.

From the first jump shot, swing off the tee... fielded grounder.. two-hand chest pass, our goal (with me at snotnose recreation age group helm) was to occupy possession of first place in whatever league/age/sport it was. We rarely did (probably due to coaching/lack thereof) but we tried. Occupied our thoughts anyways.

I was thinking about Occupy on the way home.. and, I thought about how much it kinda bugged me how some are occupied, pre-occupied by the same darn thing(s) day, after day, after day. Blinders.

Repub/Dem.. Religion.. Money.. Reading..Music.. themselves.. power.. position..stature.. blinders... all with blinders on... then it dawned on me, I guess I am too. The same ole same ole things occupy my days, every day: refusing not to make (or try to make) whatever I'm doing: fun. Sports. Emailing. Sudoku. Writing. And, I've been known to occupy a barstool in my day, especially since that fateful departure (“I did everything” whilst I occupied the snotnoses) a few years back. So, I reprimanded myself for not seeing that I too, occupy, am preoccupied by the same things day in, day out: thus, I too wear blinders..

(I hadta stop and Google “then it dawned on me” cause I wasn't sure if it was 'dawned' or 'donned'.. and proper grammar kinda occupies me when writing.. and then the rebel comes out, and the GD (gosh darn) puter underlines words like puter, shoulda, woulda, kinda, howinthehell, sumpin.. and I rebel. Not THAT occupied, preoccupied with grammar. But, occupied on somea the gimmes. Underlining bastards. Quit.

Have. Use. Busy. Capture. Seize. Occupy. I did kinda stumble over something about this occupy movement having something to do with 99% and 1%. Quite certain, 99% of you who 'clicked' this goofy blog are gone by now. My thanks to the 1% that stayed on, occupied a few minutes here.

Speakin'a one out of mebbe a hunnerd.. one in one hunnerd voices REALLY get on my nerves. Dr. Laura was in that 1%. Did like her “go on, take on the day” (not the tone though).. Thus.. go on, occupy the day. Love, Victurd.

Hurt good…..

I’ve written about Deke before, but agin’, I’m old, so I’ll repeat. I’m old, so I’ll repeat.

Deke was a mechanic for an airline I worked for.. He worked on our ground equipment, and he was mebbe the most cantankerous human being I’ve ever known. I don’t believe he ever experienced compassion.

We would drive our ground equipment on three of the four wheels if we hadta, so as not to have to present the mechanic need to Deke, and be met with a stare, a glare, a snarl – all topped off by a deluge of profanities.

At day’s end.. Deke would walk to the 2’ by 3’ calendar on the wall… take out his magic marker and swipe a HUGE “X” over the day…. as if to say “Thank goodness that bastard is over.”

As a youth (or more youthful back then) my main thought/feel for this man was “I don’t like the guy.” As I’ve aged, thoughts have turned more toward “Darn I feel sorry for this man.. he’s never ‘hurt-good’, he’s only ‘hurt’..”

I am a very big believer in tears, crying, eyes-watering, welling up, passion, compassion, feel: hurt-good. My father, born in the era “men don’t show their emotions”, basically followed that mandate long into life.. then.. Parkinson’s set in.. and if there ever was any good about this evil bastard (The Parkinsons) it’s that it allowed my dad to cry, feel, exhibit hurt-good.

Call me a wimp, I don’t really care. Many, many things, events, acts, remembrances, rush me to that feel of not knowing how to exactly hide one’s own emotions. This morning, we at work emailed a buddy who’d served in Vietnam. I’ve had many discussions with this nice man on how horrible it must have been - yes, simply war itself – but even moreso to come home only to find a thankless nation.

We wrote very simply “we’re here to say thank you – it’s men/women
like you who have protected our country and ensured our continued freedom and we’re very appreciative of your service….”…

He wrote a one-liner back.. very modest, humble, nice man: “Thanks folks…time sure goes by but the memories of war are like yesterday.” Emotion caught up with me, my eyes started watering – and I had to go outside… we’re a changed society in regard to understanding that now it’s ok to show emotion.. but human nature tells one “hide it please”.. so I went outside and had a good ole cry. Hurt-good.

To have felt enough about something.. a loved one.. a friend.. witnessing the compassion of others.. sadness of a situation.. anything – that transcends into hurt-good, I’m appreciative. If one has not learned to feel, such as Deke per chance, how horrible would that be? Call me a wuss.. call me a baby.. you can even call me a girl, I don’t care. I cry. My lips quiver. My innards talk to me. Control turns to no control. I feel.

Sure hurt-good sometimes really does hurt, but I’m so, so glad to have felt strong enough about things, people, the past, the present to experience hurt-good. I hurt-good upon occasion – and even moreso the older I get. Hope you do too. Love, Victurd.

No streaming please..........

In absence of marriage, partner, mate.. I've found music to be a very compatible, invigorating, inspirational pardner.. Pardner spelled like that on Dizzy Dean purpose.

I'm old, as are the Rolling Stones, but.... within the last couple years, I've' discovered' music from the #2 best ever England group really, really moves me. So, I YouTube them, their songs. I crank them on the highway...and selfishly it's a very fun, fun thing.

I ain't sure there's a soul on the planet that doesn't enjoy, doesn't have some type of music in/on their brain every day. Music is therapeutic. It's a familiarity. It's a “my era”, “that era”, “this kind”, “that kind”, “our kind”,”me”, ie, an individualistic kinda thing.

I recently Googled “best saxophone songs” and was reasonably disappointed I didn't know many of them. Sooo... I You tubed “Into the Mystic” and stuck my nose up at the 'judges' of the top 10 'cipherers, and loved the hell out of the sax on this song. (And, remembered back to hearing it live, one year ago ih Seattle)..

Little kids. And music. Nuttin' better. Little kids ain't got no sense, feel, contact with YouTube, grooveshark, Pandora, music.aol.com,. Rhapsody, whatever. Lil' kids 'cipher on their own, bend the knees to the beat, smile, and gyrate with no instructions, and they feel, happily. A very happy, fun for all thing.

I'm embarrassed (not really) that I, at age 59, turn my radio full blast occasionally en route to/or from work.. if the right song comes across.... Examples you ask? Sure... today, lunchtime.. “Chain” Fleetwood Mac... “Another Brick in the Wall” Pink Floyd... “Werewolves of London” Warren.. “Lowrider” War... “War, what is it good for?” Edwin... and many more....

We all have those songs, our fav's, the music that lifts... There are SO many types.. so many 'fits' for just the right person/personality........ acoustic... alternative... ballads.. bluegrass... calipso... celtic... Christian.. Country... Disco.. Folk... Gospel... Hard rock... Jazz... Metal... Motown... and I'm only halfway thru the alphabet...

Bottomline, music is kinda-sorta universal. To each his/her own.

Recently, 4-5 barstools over, a group of 3 snotnoses (Sorry, my loving terminology for anyone who prolly still wears jeans size 32 waist or less...).. were discussing 'groups', as in music. Of course I'd never hearda any of 'em, but I found glee in the fact, music rocks for them as well.

It's such a great era, sans the scratches on 33's/45's... the 8 tracks where the GD (Gosh Darn) tape breaks off in the contraption... the cassette, where you gotta flip it from one side to the other to hear your two fav's.. music is instantaneous now... I want what I want, and I want it now. And we get it.

Moods. Music helps moods. Was thinking the other day, wouldn't it be cool, if we could CTRL/ALT/DELETE life's problems, and we can't. Realism sets in, grabs us by the collar and says “damnit Victor, do you realize how minimal your problems are to many?”... Thanks. I needed that, and I oft times forget.

Music helps.We're black, white, thin, large, fast, slow, smart, not-so-much, smiley, grumpy, nice, quiet, loud, married, single, divorced, separated, gay, old, young, middle-aged, very young, very old, fast-thinking-acting, take-it-all-in-making-'wise' decisions, saggers, gansta's, whatever... .. There's a variety of music for each of us. With music there is no exclusive round peg, square hole.

I'll be the very first to admit... divorcing 9 years ago... some down times. I am sooooooooooooo thankful for music. Music has turned many 'both sides of the mouth droop' to FOOT-TAPPING-SMILING-FEEEEEEEEEELING.. just say, I'm thankful.

Victor... two questions........ #1... are u kinda embarrassed that you write here so frequently? I probably should be, but I ain't. I get these feelings, urges, feels, and I type. Sorry.

What was the second question? You started this off with the heading “No streaming please”... whatsup with that?....

Well... today, for whatever reason, I was in the mood for Country music... not my norm, but my mood today.. so.. I Googled “Top 100 alltime Country Western songs”.. Youtube'd... and gleefully was listening to “I'm so lonesome I could cry”... “Crazy”... “Stand by your man”... “Ring of Fire”... “I will always love you”.. etc, etc...

Then, coworker, a great gal, rushed over.. “DIDN'T YOU GET THE EMAIL ABOUT 'NO STREAMING'? Hehe. I swear, I'm neither a smart-ass or a rebel.. but I replied (complete with shit-eatin' grin) “we're equals... you/me... so, I ain't gonna quit streaming... someone above me comes, says, 'Victor, cut that crap out' I will”...

FYI too, we just gotta email where our loving IT Department upgraded our internet to “50 times faster” so my take, to hell with them.. rock on... stream on.. = Tracy Chapman, “Give me one more reason” here I come.

Love, musically, Victurd.

I’m afraid of women. I am (said lovingly)……

Please don't tell.

Just out on break… me… four chickies.. I swear to goodness I looked up, listened, observed… all four of them were talking at the same time. I have a rule for never being a smartass, but, couldn’t resist the urge to stop them all……. ask…… “If all four of you are talking, who is listening?”……

Giggles.. them some retorts about “_____ will say something to me in the kitchen while I’m doing the dishes, and then say ‘you’re not listening’…“I AM TOO”….. and also heard the term “multi-tasking”… Women are somehow ‘coordinated’ in this manner. A sure bet though, more comes out the mouth than what goes in the ears. (It’s ok, I was probably never gonna get laid again anyways)….

We have cubicle walls here at work. Supposed sound barriers (fancy for “haha boss, you can’t see me on Facebook.”).. We also have phones here. Each of us. Women don’t use ‘em. M yells a question to D, who sits 3 cubicles over, mebbe fitteen feet away, another M overhears, she’s 16 feet or so to the East, she yells back an answer.. and then someone else from three cubicles over responds (loudly) to all three. I, the one never being a smartass, pick up my phone, call “Hammer” (our beloved building manager) and loudly say “Hammer, please come get these damn phones.. hell.. they don’t use ‘em anyways.”…

Also… why do women always announce “I’m going to the bathroom”? Why can’t one quietly standup, walk and go pee? I, one who tries to never be a smartass, always ask “WHY do you announce that?”.. (Now these same women, who ALWAYS announce “I’m going to the bathroom” – but those times - WHEN THEY CARRY THEIR PURSE TO THE JOHN with them, nary a peep. I don’t get it! Hehe.)

Women have uterine tracking devices, they do. My ex could find anything lost within our house. Always amazed me. MS’s GPS. Women too, are always right (no matter the topic/situation/circumstance), yet we men yield to the temptation to disagree sometimes just for disagreement purpose. Ultimately the dreaded “I told you so” is spoken… Women 1, Men 0. Can’t win. Borrowing from a past Russian Olympic team who fell to the US…”we (men) took 2nd, the US (women) took next to last.”

A mad female. (I did not say mad cow, I said a mad female.. YOU were the one who thought/envisioned it.) I am more afraid of any 5’4”, 105 lb incensed lady than I would be lined up across from the Kansas City Chief’s offensive line. (After the debacle against this past Sunday against Miami, I prolly shoulda used another example, but you get my drift.)

I would never admit this, but I actually kinda like a chick’s passion in anger. The veins popping out, the eyeballs that singe.. the eyebrows that are even more scarier than Brezhnev’s.. Possessing the capability to bring a 6’ man to his knees faster’na Catholic sermon.

Creepy, observant eyeballs. I could literally go to work, have on two different shoes, my zipper be down, and one sidea my collar up – and I probably wouldn’t discover any of it before the bell to go home. Women notice everything. Spooky. “You gotta new pair of shoes.” Yes.. yes I did. “And ____, you got new boots.” Yes… yes she did. Kinda makes one feel naked, like ur being looked over the whole time. Yes, checked, zipper was up. Whew.

Women are unique, and similar – if that makes sense. I love ‘em. I do. It would be an extremely boring (not to mention short-lived) world without them.

Worst part mebbe, they possess that smile. That smile that melts us, wraps us around their little finger. I hate/love that. Sorry to ramble, but I guess it beats the hell outta describing what car part conked out on me this week. (Water pump btw. $37, four knuckle-scraping hours on the “two hour job”.. but it works and I saved a couple hunnerd mebbe.)

Love to all, even u chicks. Victurd.

As lock would have it...

Locks are kind of an interesting invention. Sad that we ever needed them – but, a result/reaction to human nature. Wiki tells me (and those dudes at Wiki are never wrong.. just ask Snopes) wooden locks and keys were in use 4,000 years ago in Assyria.

I remember (and I'm old) my combination (10-20-10) to my high school locker. Remember stuffing freshmen in lockers? Amazing they'd fit, but... ever taken a shower on a cruise? Bout the same size as a HS locker!

There's bike locks, cam locks, child safety locks, deadbolt locks, disc tumbler locks, electronic locks, luggage locks, police locks, magnetic keyed locks, spring bolt locks, time locks (the hell's a time lock wiki?) - all kinda locks.

I remember once (Victor, I think you've told this one already... bite me, it's a privilege of gettng old, retelling crap).. I remember once... a somber time turned light.. .The day before my mother's funeral, my sister and I were having a wonderful visit recounting mom stories – as we sat in the Mobile home of my uncle... She excused herself to go to the restroom... I hear this “click”.. as she was coming out I asked “Vanda? The hell did you lock the door for? Did you like think I was going to come in?” A shared giggle...

Locks keep bad guys out, and dogs in. Steering wheels from turning, and cars from starting. Gal at work has onea those spiffy start-the-damn-car-from-your-office-desk thingys, and the other day I ran and tried to jump in right after she started it – nuh huh, locked. Damnit.

At work, we have a code thingy where we have to swipe our palm, enter a code, and jualah, door unlocks. Every time we lose a coworker, new codes for the lock.

Victor, why a friggin blog on locks? Please share the key to your weird brain. Ok... .McDonalds, Sunday morning – this is a recording. Me, the newspaper, my senior coffee – it's a weekly event. As I was getting outta car I hear some chimes. Same chimes that tell me “keys still in ignition” (nope, they weren't) or that the lights are still on (nope, they weren't)...

I am still a trusting soul – I usually throw my keys on the visor. Did this morning too. Paper, coffee, sausage biscuit, sausage mcmuffin later, back out to get in car, take on day. Oh shit. Locked. A wise person would have a second set of keys, but noooooooooooooo. Ten blocks from home. Cigs and lighter staring at me laughing from inside the car. I hoofed it.

$112 heater fan switch thingy three weeks ago. $85 “oh shit my driver's side window won't go up and it's 32 degrees this morning” switch two weeks ago. $114 battery last week. And now I lock my friggin keys in the car ON A SUNDAY! I'm an idiot.

Four blocks in, a GD (gosh darn) leg cramp. GOSH I hope no one sees me walking. Finally home. Haha, packa cigs by computer. Thank you stove, I needed that fire. Googled locksmiths. Google
“How much does it cost to get your car unlocked?” and it ranged from $35 to $200 (dependent upon the time of day, location, and of course -weekends higher.) Crap.

Yellow pages. No, they're not passe'.. Still need 'em. Local #, called.. “No, I don't work on weekends.. but you can try Liberty Tow”... asked the guy outta curiosity how much he charges.. “$60”.. Figured I was looking at a hunnerd plus... Called Liberty Tow.. . Dude actually lives three blocks from me.. Came to pick me up.. Even took my credit card... “FORTY DOLLARS!” YIPPEEEEEEEEE!

Shook his hand, thanked him, thought “I'll go RIGHT NOW and get a key made to keep in my billfold.” Procrastination led me here. Damnit. That's it. Another checkenginelight story of me/my cruddy vehicles.

Tune in next week... who knows... antifreeze leak.. brakes cinching up.. starter out... alternator, hell who knows. As lock would have it. Love, Victurd.

31 years ago, Don sang....

I don't believe in superstars, organic food and foreign cars
I don't believe the price of gold the certainty of growing old
That right is right and left is wrong that north and south can't get along

That east is east and west is west and being first is always best
But I believe in love I believe in babies I believe in mom and dad and I believe in you

(Yes, loved the 'veteran' Thomas Jones/Superstar '#1 draft choice' John Baldwin fist fight in pre-season due to Johnathon's “I am somebody” attitude)..
Organic food.. gimme a #2 please, and supersize the fries... GM, Ford, Chrysler for me please.

Mom and dad will always be mom and dad, even if in this day of frequent separation. Babies. I have a 10 month old granddaughter, you better know my opine there!


I don't believe that heaven waits for only those who congregate
I like to think of God as love he's down below he's up above
He's watchin' people everywhere he knows who does and doesn't care
And I'm an ordinary man sometimes I wonder who I am
But I believe in love I believe in music I believe in magic and I believe in you

Nice. Once heard “your true religion is the life you lead, not the creed you profess”.. Many might disagree.. Bottomline though, ok “not to necessarily look the part... but TO BE the part/believe” =ok.

Well I know with all my certainty what's going on with you and me is a good thing. It's true I believe in you

“You” as in wherethehell are you? Jk, kinda

Well I don't believe virginity is as common as it used to be
In working days and sleeping nights that black is black and white is white

That Superman and Robin Hood are still alive in Hollywood
That gasoline's in short supply the rising cost of gettin' by (Gas was $1.35 in 1980, a postage stamp fifteen cents, dozen eggs 91 cents, average wage $17K.)

But I believe in love I believe in old folks I believe in children and I believe in you I believe in love, I believe in babies, I believe in mom and dad and I believe in you.

Some things don't change with time. Cept me, and mebbe u. Reckon we're old folks now. Love, babies, mom, dad... believing in you. Life is still very good, some 31 years later. I believe.
Love, Victurd

For me…. hitchhikers welcome…..

I see deceased people. I do. Today is today, and tomorrow is tomorrow – but my brain CONSTANTLY goes to yesterday.

I see my sister smiling, doting on a small child. I see her lying in her bed at St. Lukes, a terminal situation – and when we walk in – a most beautiful, radiant smile brightens the room and completely eases the pain we have for her being in pain. She had a way to light up a room, even in her own discomfort. Yes, biased, but also – yes, true.

I see my father… moments after his mother-in-law had stitched up the cuffs of his slacks – walk into the room with one side purposely tucked up 6 inches higher than the other – to the dismay exhibited on my grandmother’s face.

I see my folks, my aunt/uncle, seated around the table playing pitch – ever present laughter – cigs in three of the four ashtrays. Fun. Fun they had. I remember my uncle winging whiffle balls past my cousins and I.

I remember the view from the backseat as my grandfather drove us across town at 22 miles per hour and grandma chastising “MAN, MAN, you’re gonna kill these kids, slow down!”.. (I don’t wanna make my grandmother out as a bad/mean person, to the contrary, not a nicer, more caring person in the world.)

I hear my mother’s voice on the other end of the phone asking (proudly) “How’s my Victor?”.. I see her smile. Her comforting me.

I see cousin Roger, and regret the fact I never told him he was my hero.

I hear Richard Justus’s bellowing voice. I see Louis Biggerstaff riding around in a cool, cool car. I see my buddy Bill Skillman sitting on his throne as the head honcho of the JFK pool. I see Logan’s smile, and I really miss the little guy.

I see/hear my wonderful mother inlaw at the dinner table turn her head to my ex, ask “does he need some more beans?”… She rocked. I will never forget the day – her first day of driving/freedom after bypass surgery (her hubby pharmacist, “by the book” when it comes to healthy eating).. she was parked at a small lot at Bennett Park. Worried something was wrong – we drove up to her.. Right hand after left hand, she was shoveling Taco Bell into her mouth. I loved her. She was a rebel, and a wonderful one.

I cry for yesterday, and not certain if it’s a feel good or hurt good kinda thing. We’ve all lost folks – the above somea the top ones on my list.

I continually see, think of those gone. I love carrying yesterday into tomorrow. Know you do as well. Happy day, love Victurd.

Hip Hip Hooray!

Can I be semi serious for a moment?

Hi, and thanks to all for the very nice birthday/birthday wishes. Today's blog will be short and hopefully sweet.

I think, when you/I were younger, we weren't quite so attentive. We went, did, kinda with blinders on.

As one ages (my take), you don't verbalize until after you scope out the situation, the reactions/behaviors of those all around.

In spite of my recent “two occasion run-ins” with snotnoses (as always, said lovingly) at fast food joints – I'm here to espouse our youth of today.

My life, at present, is perty simple. I work. And I occasionally (haha) go to “my joint”.. Within those travails, I run across boo-koo 20-somethings, 30-somethings. Where I work, 80 or so folks, the vast majority, 20/30-somethings.

From this,observances/interactions, I am not at all worried about our future as a country. With technology changing/rearranging/updating/adding onto faster than we change undies – the youth of today can/do handle. Will handle. We older folks hold one arm out in resistance - standoffish – the young ones say “bring it on... we can handle... we frothe new information.” And they do.

This ain't so much about that though. This is about the treatment of folks like me/mebbe you....fitty-something and up, by twenty/thirty-somethings.

My dealings, quite frankly, have been superb. I try to harken back to “was I that nice to older folks back in the day”?... and I ain't so sure.

I'm sure though, today's youth is/are phenomenal. They demonstrate care... concern... CAMARADERIE..fun.. optimism.. GENUINENESS in asking about our day/life/past.(And absorption of our answers).. interaction... “looking at us old farts as equals”.. and perhaps the largest one, they BEFRIEND US.

Having a birthday causes one to 'relive' the past year. I am S-O-L-D on the youth of America. And very proud (And thankful) to call many among them, friends.

Love, Victurd

How can you have any pudding if you don't eat yer meat?

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign.. Blockin' out the scenery, breakin' my mind.. Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign?

Inspitea arguments about The Left, The Right... is our leader a leader... we're easily led. Awaken. Clock's sign says gettyup. Mirror. Signs of aging. Damn light.

Start car. Checkenginelight sign. Ding-signs until the seatbelts are affixed. Stop sign. Left turn this lane only sign. Stoplight sign is red. Green, a sign to go.

Speed limit 45 sign. Yellow lines signal where it's ok to turn into gas station. Enter/Exit signs on the doors. Restroom sign “occupied.” Damnit. Coffee. “WARNING – HOT!” sign.. Duh? Grab newspaper, pay cashier with his Habib sign on. “We prosecute bad checks” sign.

Back in car, more dings, checkenginelight. Open paper. Scurry to Horoscopes. My sign is Libra. A one inch paragraph, letting me know how me, and my fellow 12% of the population Libras, what kinda day we've signed in for.

291 sign. 152 sign. I-35 sign. Signs telling us where we can eat, sleep and get fuel on every exit. Mileage signs remind us how far we've to go, or been. Merge. Yield. Electronic signs telling us what roads are closed, where there are wrecks, even amber alerts.

Can't text and drive, so let's put up 7,342 signs on the way to work and see if they can handle that. Insurance signs. Radio Station signs. Sears. Casinos. Billboards = signs. And the sign said “Everybody welcome, come in, kneel down and pray.”

Brakelights, not a good sign. Tap the brakes. YEOUCH. They're right, coffee IS hot. Car behind tailgating way too friggin' close, would love to give them a sign, but I'm old, frail, and don't have on my bulletproof jacket this morn.

Finally to work. Handicapped sign, nope, can't park there. “Leon's” spot. Sorry, plz take next available. Do. “Please don't clock in before 8am” sign. K. “Enter password”, you know, your 'sign'. Do. Gives me a score sign, or, signs me to 'please remove hand” and do it again sign.

“On'/”Off” sign. Turn on computer. User ID sign please.. Password sign please. Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign?

Open email, clicking the icon sign thingy. Email from boss in there. Oh shit, not a good sign. I move freight for a living. Mailbox fulla “where's this... when will this get there... found that missing piece” signs. Can u getme a “proof of delivery SIGNature on this one?”

Daily announcement over the speaker-thingy “It's 8am, have a great day.” Fancy sign for “We're paying you now, please get your ass to work.” Some, I've heard, spend three more minutes finalizing the daily Sudoku – perhaps the sign of a rebel.

“Here's your (health insurance papers, vision.. dental. 401K... new breakroom rules.. a card for chick down the hall whose b-day it is).. please sign.” Cloudy out. Uh huh, sure enough, speaker-thingy sign “It's about to rain, if your windows are down, you might wanna roll 'em up.” There's one guy, that rebel fellow. His windows are up, but what an opportune time to sneak another cig. “Smoking area” sign. Wave at coworkers, a sign of engagement, happy day offering.

Clock sign says 11:30... time for first lunch shift. On the road again. More signs. Dings. Read the big sign at fast food joint, ordered, and added “and a large water please.” Pass the “next window” sign, pullup, snotnose says “$2.89 please.” BUT THE SIGN SAID the two items I purchased were a buck apiece...”Yessir, but we have to charge you 50 cents for a large water.” THAT WASN'T ON THE SIGN? WHAT GIVES? THIS IS A SIGN WORLD for behoogety sakes. Victor, what's with this recent grumpiness you/snotnoses @ fast food joints? Sign I'm aging, I reckon.

Back to work, park next to Leon's sign. Eat my dollar munchies, drink my GD fitty cent water. Toss the bag with the sign about “keeping our environment” something or other away. Sign back in. Sign back into computer. More emails (signs) about 'where's this, where's that.. when will this one get there.”

And... an occasional fun email read or sent. A sign for mental health.

Drive home. Ding. Eat here. Stay here. Buy this. Right lane closed ahead. Don't drive on shoulder. (Why might I ask would anyone want to? Duh).. Mileage signs going other direction now. To 'my joint'. Park at “15 minute only” parking sign.

Barkeep sees me, sign enough for him to know what I want. I get it. Have mebbe one more. Clock sign says Happy Hour now over. (Why don't we label ALL 24 hours 'Happy”?)..

Home. Phone rings. Caller ID sign let's me know “nope, ain't answering that one.” User ID/password signs. Sign into Hotmail. Piddle for awhile, off to bed. TV on, breaking news signs. Eyelids struggling, sign enough for lights off.

Get up tomorrow (hopefully) – a good sign. And be led all around again by signs. Sign, sign, everywhere a sign,blocking out the scenery breakin' my mind, do this don't do that, can't you read the sign.

Signing off, love Victurd.

Piss & Vinegar.. quick one......

God Bless Wiki. Had we had Wiki back in dino days, woulda made research papers SO much easier.. learning today is with the snap of a finger, and a few keystrokes, where even simpletons like me can discern piss & vinegar = "Rowdy, boisterous, full of youthful energy."

Wow do I love that. Study it please. Rowdy (without necessary regard to other's thinking)... boisterous (ditto)... full of youthful energy (well hell yeah!).. I think of 'piss and vinegar' as "fun, without stepping on other's toes"..

Since I'm putting this out on FB... a quick look thru 'friend list' and, KMA, but I'm listing those... when I see their names... "piss and vinegar" comes to mind.. and again, from these stinky size 10 shoes, that ain't a bad thing:

FB alphabetizes things.. sorry CJ.. you're up first.. you are mainly calm, reserved, stay in the background, but there are moments when you fill the room with PISS and VINEGAR!..

Schwaby, designated here for I have a love for your "I'll say what I want, and I don't give a rat's ass as to your reaction"

Cousin Jeannie.. you've been a rebel (said lovingly) ever since I've known you... I'm coloring you fulla piss and vinegar!.... Kendra Brumley.. I think piss is your second name, vinegar your third. Love u.

Randel Steven Norris.. when I "Wiki'ed" piss/vinegar, your photo popped up.

Stephen Webb... join the list my friend. Of all the folks I know, you are perhaps THE MOST unpredictable, and I happen to be a HUGE fan of "coming from leftfield." Welcome to the piss & vinegar list.

Made it through my friend list, and if you're in belief of you living a piss and vinegar lifestyle, and swing and a miss on not being on this list... kudo's to you for that belief.

S'more that come to mind.. my son's friend Logan Snodgrass (RIP).. Vic Rowan (RIP)... Rowan and Martin... Buehler.. Ferris Buehler.. Buck O'Neill (in a VERY good way)... Brett, Sabes, Goobie and the entire '85 cast...

I'm certain I've missed many. I'm certain that you, the one person that reads this blog, has names/faces/times pop into your head remembering "piss & vinegar."

I abhor the mundane... I cherish... salute... very much enjoy "piss & vinegar."

If piss and vinegar just lent one suggestion to us over our lifetime... it's
"don't pat answer"... be unique... be alive... be different... screw mainstream... leave 'em smiling (or scratching their heads if nothing else)...

Love, piss & vinegar Victurd.

Past tense.........

Sure, there's jump, jumped... laugh/laughed... talk/talked... play/played... ask/asked.. watch/watched... wash/washed...

Ain't talking about that. Talking about “past tense”, or, awakening 'round this age, wearing life's “chest protector” and not being too damn bent outta shape about whatevers “up”. I'm past tense.

I've raised kids. Yes, many a night ago abed awake until 2am awaiting the front door to slam. Sure, parent-teacher conferences where the urge hit to pull hair out. The bird has flown the coupe, on his own.. sure, I'll help advise... but... past tense..

Resume', application, interview, HR folks, sweat, nervous-nous, one eye on dwindling bank account..”is this really what I wanna do?”.. “Even if it isn't, I GOTTA feed my family.”... 2nd interviews, more sweat... Phone ringing.. tenseness.. sorry... past tense... done with that. My company gets ridda me, we'll revisit, but I'm past tense.

Aging parents. I'm past tense. I'd give virtually anything/everything if they were still around where I could once again get tense, worry... can't... Past tense. And that's sad. Know many in same boat.

Keeping up with the Jones's.. lushest front lawn on the block... Car spit-shined? Sorry.. Color me past tense... sorry about the Egg McMuffin wrapper from Sunday on the dash.. the jacket I wore last Friday when it was windy - that's laying in the backseat... the 12 cig butts in the ashtray.. I'm past tense about that worry.

DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT HOW YOU'RE PERCEIVED? WHAT FOLKS SAY/THINK... REACT?

Don't shoot me, I'm past tense about that as well. I am far, far, far from prefect (oops) – but I am me.. I do enjoy treating folks nicely... but I'm past tense thinking/reading what they feel/think about me, as I am me.. and I have no control over their feelings. Sure, I hope folks like me, but, the answer to that comes basically from how I've treated them... so, past tense. Hopefully I've done ok...

Old age is kinda about past tense. We've all “ed” too many damn things. (Looking positively, that's experience... been there, done that......... we “ed”)... Past tense, don't worry. Too late, not worried.

I will admit, life's been a rush... and I enjoyed all those verbs in the present tense... “what shall I be?”..job-hunting, mate selection, children rearing, Bettered Homes and Garden.. Occupational overdrive...

Sorry. Color me past tense. “ed'ed out.” Now, it takes a flight of stairs to make my pulse race.

Kinda relaxing living in the past tense stage. Takes awhile longer to get from point A to point B.. the mirror ain't as friendly as it once was.. and I recently etched me a new belt loop hole to assist in recent expansion. All the same, past tense.

Occasionally, I get an email at work and the subject line contains the verbiage “URGENT”.. I giggle. Past tense. And wing 'em an email back:

-----auto-reply out of office... I will be back in the office 3/27/12 to attend to your needs---------------

Festers up some present tense. And hopefully, allows them to reevaluate winging that
GD word 'urgent'. It's no longer in my vocabulary... (lessen the squatter in Mickey
D's is occupied on a weekend morning when I wiggle with cheeks pressed together towards it.., and I GOTTA - bad).. admittedly, semi tense.

Anyways, you get my drift – I hope. Life is kinda-sorta like being a kick return blocker in football. One absorbs blow after blow, you keep marching up field.. sometimes you get pushed down.. .sometimes you push down, sometimes you get hurt.. sometimes you can't stand the excitement.. the not knowing what is coming next, and from where.. . eventually – you see daylight. Past tense.

Victor... might I remind you.. you visited The Dish Pizza tonight.. so this is 3 beers talking, and you promised you'd never do that again? (Color me past tense.) Past all the “ed” verbs. Been there, slopped thru/made it thru – that.

Love, Victurd(ed).....

Forever young, or, wishful thinking?

I was driving home tonight.. beautiful day in KC... temps, like San Diego weather... Listening to the local “Oldtime rock n roll” station (101.1 here in KC)... windows down... volume cranked to max... like, high enough the guy prolly two lanes over would be annoyed... then I looked in mirror... asked... is this proper? Am I TOO OLD to do this?

May God bless and keep you always
May your wishes all come true
May you always do for others
And let others do for you
May you build a ladder to the stars
And climb on every rung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

Switching songs for a moment... People try to put us down... talking 'bout my generation”... By golly, I think it DOES have something to do with our/my generation. If I were 20, 40 years older... or, 20, 40 years younger, mebbe I wouldn't think “our age” so special. But... I do. We had the audacity to ask “why?”... “Because it's always been done this way.” “SO? Why must we?”

Challenge authority? Uh huh, I'm all for it.

May you grow up to be righteous
May you grow up to be true
May you always know the truth
And see the lights surrounding you
May you always be courageous
Stand upright and be strong
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

Buddyamine at work. His gf, circa HS in the late 60's... 2 yr old grandkid comes over.. “Vic, he really takes to her.” Why? (I ask).. “Well... his other granny... she stands erect.. doesn't get down “to his level"... Sherrie does.. she lays on the floor... at “his level” (forever young).. he “gets it”, smiles, giggles, loves her for that. Forever young. I've found the same to be true with my own grandkiddo... by golly, fester down carpet-level... there's an acceptance.. a somehow “we're both young”.. (In spita granny/g-pa's wrinkles)..

May your hands always be busy
May your feet always be swift
May you have a strong foundation
When the winds of changes shift
May your heart always be joyful
And may your song always be sung
May you stay forever young
Forever young, forever young
May you stay forever young.

Wishful thinking? Or, forever young.

Inspitea the changes physiologically to me, those similarly aged, I/we feel young. I'd like to think, I/we think young. Obstinate? Fearful of aging? In light of the fact I tore up my AARP card when it first arrived, age fitty, I don't think so.

Scoff all you want. If you were from beginning Elvis era... WWII era.. Lady Gaga era... Michael Jackson era... (Close your ears..).. I don't give a rats. I happen to think I/we (those in same boat) grew up in the very best “Hell yeah, I ALWAYS plan to act/think young” era there ever was.

Last night.. my wonderful niece and her bf, assisted me in fetching 'new' sofa, chair, ottoman, 30 miles 'cross town. As they followed me, I texted “it's against the law to text and drive”...

Something maybe about keeping a part of the 60's, 70's alive still in our 50's, 60's, 70's. Label, color “us” any way you wanna...

I/we are forever young. Love, Victurd