Yelp, I need somebody....... Yelp, not just anybody....

Frienda mine.... large, nifty yard - has a yap-dog. I say yap-dog, and I don't mean that disparagingly. He's little, he's young, he yaps. Fulla energy, life. With poles, trees, bricks,
rocks, you-name-the-obstacle, life for him on a chain doesn't work well. Thus.........

The purchase of a wireless "shock" system... Imagine digging a circle around the entirety of your house, laying wire - and having a shock collar for your dog should he approach the wire. Well, this system is wireless... you place the big control thingy indoors, and it sends out signals that will zap the little feller - and it can be set for 45' in each direction, up to 90' in each direction - and....... u can kinda control the SHOCK of the shock, ie, settings from 1 to 10, dependent upon the size of the dog, or, your sadistic mood I would gather.

This system takes much training before turning yap completely loose... kinda like, I suppose, life/growing up. The 'shock collar' includes two prongs, damn near half the size of a fork tong (ya know, for longhaired dogs).. as pooch approaches the electric zap (or, as the manufacturer politically correctly entitles it "static correction") a beeper goes off to warn. Much like, "hold my hand as we cross the street", "you'll shoot your eyes out", "I'm not gonna tell you again", "do as I say, OR ELSE"... Additionally, there are flags you place at the boundary to serve as reminders "huh uh." Much like the red flags of our own lives.

Empathetic friend decided "well, I suppose I should feel the 'static correction' (where the system zaps the hell out of you) so I'll know how my dog feels when it happens." I was there. It was hurt/good, funny ha ha, god awful. After I realized she still had a pulse, I laughed my ass off from her own yelping.

The whole thing, bizarre as it may seem, reminds me of life. Our grandparents perhaps lived with the settings at 45'. Ne'er straying too much, behaving, cooperating, the static correction put on full shock, yet - a good life. Our folks maybe pushed the boundaries back a little farther, occasionally put the lamp shade on, testing the waters of adulthood.

The 60's, we kinda maybe ruined it for all. "Put that sucker clear back to 90' in each direction." "Why?" "WHY NOT?". Free(er) rein, challenge authority, question anything, nonconformity.. "It's my life and I'll do what I want".

Nowadays, holy crap. Reality shows where folks joyfully run thru the shocking barriers. "Turn that sucker up to 10, let's see what it feels like!" Diversity has happened. Different 'schools'. Individuality. Some even flip the damn switch off, disappearing into what usedta be never-never land. Some purposely jihad into the static correction without any self-thought. Beep beep my ass.

Life's a good run. Different settings, different borders, barriers. Unique, in our own little (or big) circle. Shocking ain't it?

Love, Victurd.

Right place, wrong time....

I been in the right place but it must have been the wrong time
I'd have said the right thing but I must have used the wrong line
I been in the right trip but I must have used the wrong car
My head was in a bad place and I'm wondering what it's good for
I been the right place but it must have been the wrong time
My head was in a bad place but I'm having such a good time

Ain't life grand? We spend our entire life trying to 'get it right', 'do it right', and gump happens. So does good though, lots. Recently, I copied some beautiful blogger lady's blog on "You WIll Never Be Finished: Find Peace by Enjoying Were You Are..." Wow Dr. John, we needed that!

In her story, she related visiting with her 80 year old grandmother:“I wish I could do it all over again,” grandma said on her 60th wedding anniversary.
“Really?” Granddaughter asked.
A small smile crossed her face as she replied, “Yes. Because when you enjoy your life—when you really enjoy your life—it just goes by so fast. I wish I could go back and do it all again.”

Nuttin' about regrets, woulda shoulda coulda, right place, wrong time.

So, me being the idiot I am, emailed the blogger. I related a story (I've told here before, sorry, kinda) from when I was in the Dr. John scrambled mode (recently divorced) - went out with a way-too-young for me lady.. had asked her "What are you looking for?" - in a nutshell, she related, "well.. I was working in ER.. there was a little lady in her 80's that was having some severe heart issues. In fact, we 'lost her' three times that night. Each and every time, the doctor would go to the waiting room to confer/update the little lady's elderly husband. Finally, she expired. Doc went out, related same. Without saying a word, the gent go up, walked into the ER room where she lay, pulled back the sheet over her, kissed her cheek, covered her back up, and walked out. THAT, that's what I want."

Ok, the blogger lady emailed me back, said she enjoyed the story then shared "Destination = a beautiful, tender, loving partnership. How shall we get there? Don't know, but I'll tell you what the journey looked like when I arrive."

So maybe the right place, the right time, ain't all that important.

I been running trying to get hung up in my mind
Got to give myself a good talking-to this time
Just need a little brain salad surgery
Got to cure this insecurity....

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh insecurity - a blog for another day - but I can't begin to share with you all the people I've met (on the outside, VERY "right place, right time" folks) who've struggled with insecurity. My own personal pity party on more than one occasion has related to me "Insecurity? Yeah?" and I reply with "Hell yeah, two failed marriages, neither one I desired to end." Let's just say, if you struggle with insecurity - there are some wonderful, wonderful sites that magically pop up when you Google "Low self esteem" (or whatever struggle you're dealing with.) I dunno if I'm right place, right time (thankfully happy to relate my life is the best it's been for a long, long time) - but, thanks to Google, within my brain I've some learned tools to combat the sinister thoughts that creep in, try to take the wheel of life. Sure, I slip, but learning/understanding me through self help articles has REALLY helped me, I encourage same for you.

I been in the wrong place but it must have been the right time
I been in the right place but it must have been the wrong song
I been in the right vein but it seems like the wrong arm
I been in the right world but it seems wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong.....

Funny, kinda. I just had a minor medical procedure. They hadta give me a shot in the booty for antibiotic purpose. She noticed I'd limped in.."yeah, my hip has been buggin' me"... "Which one?".. "The left".. "Ok, we'll give the shot on the other side.. now it's going to hurt for a couple days." "Good, that'll balance out the pain." Hehe. Right vein, right cheek.

Slipping dodging sneaking creeping hiding out down the street
See me life shaking with every ho' I meet
Refried confusion is making itself clear
Wonder which way do I go to get on out of here..

Right place, wrong thong. This story doesn't fit here, but, that's what makes blogging so damn special. Kinda like being old, one can do any damn thing they please! A friend recently related a story of another friend and her hubby. They were to celebrate their 25th anniversary at a fancy dancy hotel. She'd purchased this really cool, shear negligee, and told him to "get a black thong." Drum roll... That night, she was awaiting him in bed.. out of the bathroom he comes... wearing...... wearing........ wearing... black flip-flops (thongs). With apologies to my family for cursing, I shit you not this is true. Right place, wrong thong (and he was serious, didn't know any better.)

I been in the right place but it must have been the wrong time
I'd have said the right thing but I must have used the wrong line
I'd have took the right road but I must have took a wrong turn
Would've made the right move but I made it at the wrong time
I been on the right road but I must have used the wrong car
My head was in a good place and I wonder what it's bad for

Live is fulla wrong turns, wrong roads, wrong moves, wrong veins, wrong place, wrong thongs... sinister thoughts trying to take over...

Still, it's pretty damn good.......... if we allow it to be.

Love, Victurd.

The moody blues......

Good day + good day = a couple'a good days yeah?

Simple ain't it? Well.... no, it really isn't. (This is a recording, I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome.)

One bad day plus one bad day equals two bad days. When one has a bad day - awakens the next - predetermined another bad day is in store? If one believes it, it'll happen. Does it have to? Are the odds in favor of it? Mebbe, but huh uh, doesn't have to be.

In this day and age of "a video for everything", my all-time favorite was one entitled "Having a bad day?".. Twas a mom bringing a birthday cake to her son. Car pulls over, she gets dropped off/out, loses her balance, falls in a ditch. Drenched in mud, she stumbles back to her feet, cake, halfway off the platter - car pulls away, her dress is caught in the door, strips her." Maybe ya hadta be there - cracked me up - but it's one I go back to/watch frequently. With age, bad days are thankfully fewer and fewer - but they still can happen...

Perfection. Daily, I read the morning paper, and I always enjoy looking to see who, in our local area, has gotten a hole-in-one, or, bowled a 300 game. Upon occasion, I recognize the name. Knew the bowler a few days back. Yep, a 300. Perfection. He also had a nice series - something like 300, 278, 279. Damn near perfect, yet, it wasn't. Something happened within those two games that just wasn't right. Still damn good? You bet, and such is the nature of life. Life, like bowling, golfing, ain't perfect - but it's still pretty damn yummy.

We 'attack' each day, each frame, each golf hole with the same intent - perfection. Rare that it happens. When it does, ohhhh yes, OH BABY OH BABY - but, reality reminds us "life is rarely perfect, but it's often pretty damn good."

1 + 1 = 2. One bad day doesn't have to turn into two bad days. Make one good day turn into two good days. Life ain't perfect Victor, understand that, thus, it may still be perfect for you.

We haven't any say in the forecast - but we can help predict the mood, the tempo, the day - by our behaviors, thoughts, beliefs and expectations. If we anticipate unruly hair, bad traffic, meals not cooked to perfection, disliking the words that will come outta other's mouths - odds are great for split ends, that we'll find ourselves going 35 in a 65 mph zone and - no tip due to an undercooked sandwich - and maybe even verbally snapping back at a friend, lover, family member, coworker.

Doesn't have to be that way. Visualize good. Believe in mankind. If other's words cause tummy aches - throw a Rolaid on your life, attitude - or, disassociate. If it rains, grab an umbrella. If there's frost on the windshield - grab the long johns and that big fluffy hat you never getta wear. Put your big pants on. Gotta frown? Stand on your head.

Odds ain't great for a hole in one (or hole in one/eagle) on two consecutive holes. A 300 is rarely followed by a 300. A bad day can be followed by a bad day - but normally, that's our call.

1 + 1, believed/anticipated/perceived 'bad' day + believed/anticipated/perceived 'bad' day can lead to many. Jump outta the way of 'muck'. Hop over 'patooey'. Swim to the shore and outta the river of gloom/doom.

Make it good + good = 2 days of good. If golf ain't your game, find another game. If you need the gutter bumpers - chances are bowling ain't either. If the day sucks, make the next day better - that's within our determination. If it entails, Bruce Weber, Kim Anderson, Ned Yost - changing the line up - by all means, have at. If not, stay the course - life's a battle, winning can happen (and be very rewarding) in the long run - but it certainly doesn't have to be predetermined consternation.

Disregard moody blues, rather listen to the music. 1 happy day + 1 happy day is 2 happy days. Tee it up. Get in your stance. In bowling, golf and life, it's all about the approach. Happy day, love, Victurd

Spark.....

Fun word.

The other day, to my 1999 Grand Marquis Check Engine Light car (the previous owner, tired of being blinded at night by the continuous glow of the check engine light, placed electrical tape over it to hide it's 'grandeur').... so.. out to start the day - list of things to do going thru my brain..... Get in car, which, at age 62 is an event in and of itself.. (Speakinowhich, any of you other old farts go to Piggly Wiggly, get out of car, struggle, lose balance, laugh, turn to see if anyone saw that? Uh huh, didn't think I was alone. Who woulda ever thunk getting in/out of car would one day be considered exercise?)

So....... I turn the key...... nothing. Absolutely nothing. Worse things happen - sure. There was no spark to the motor. Alternator? Starter?.. Being my non-mechanical self, I opened the hood - aha.. There was so much gunk built up on the connectors to the terminal ends - yuck. So... I find the right sized wrench (15th one I tried worked, par for my course).. and, I proceeded to break the connecter as I tried loosening it.

Hitched a ride to auto parts store.. new connector.. pulled off the old one.. cleaned all the crap off the cable.. replaced.. probably got enough crap on coat, shirt, jeans there was decent certainty they'd soon be holy, pitched in the trash.

Turned the key - yum. Spark. Started.

Spark: something that sets off a sudden force. Sparky Griswold invoked laughter in Christmas Vacation. Sparky Anderson incited ire from umpires. Kid comes off bench, sparks a rally. The smile (spark) of the coworker that help make Monday mornings bearable. The reciprocal spark between a couple.

Sure. Some could care less if they were ever considered a spark, and hey, that's cool. I'd bet though - deep down - even they are boosted, lifted when around, immersed with others who "set off a sudden (good) force"..

One of my favorite things to do is people watch. I love seeing spark. Infants, little tots, youth, hounds, cats, and yes, even the spark from old farts. Recently, article in Kansas City Star relating how two 99 year olds kept up their marriage for 81 years (the National record holders).. She said “I always let him have my way!” Aha, she's sparky - thus the sparkle in his eye for her (and sure, vice versa.)

Last night. Fire pit. Screen over the top. Didn't stop sparks from popping out. I wasn't a Boy Scout, so I'd never heard the phrase "Smoke follows beauty." (For SOME reason, it never got in my eyes.).. Sparks unite friends.

Something that sets off a sudden force. I prefer to think of spark in the positive sense. Eyes wide open. Lucky in life. Emotions perked by the sparks that are specific to the nature of things we treasure.

When I think of spark I think of fun. Laughter. Rejuvenation. Come alive. Surprise. Uppers (and again, no, not the artificial kind).. Positive life jolts. 'Regular ole regular' daily jolts. Sparks turn the corners of the mouth up.

Brain freeze just now. Sparks the end of blog today. May your human battery terminals be (clean and) sparked daily, so that you roll on in life with smiles - even if your check engine light is eternally lit as mine is. Happy day - love, Victurd.

Tranquility.. Debbie Downer.. and "Google that."

Google is my friend. I'm somewhat stoked by the fact I'm 62 and I don't know all about me, life, lotta things. So, I Google a lot. It's been a really nice self help thingy - and, of course Google is the many versatile tool we use to find Pizza Hut's #, what Bo Jackson's career batting average was, and how to fix the chain that broke on the ceiling fan.

Google knows most everything - just ask Snopes.

But... How many gosh darn times does one have to tell you, you CAN'T start a sentence with BUT.... Yeah, I know.. but they also say you can't use the combo "I is" to start a sentence. HA:

I is the 9th letter of the alphabet. Stick that up your Funk and Wagnall. Ahm, Victor, Funk and Wagnall went by the wayside long ago with pagers, the want ads, cassette tapes, Blockbuster, and now Radio Shack. Google, has replaced all that.

But.. (GEESH)... But, today I Googled "how do you handle it when life is good" - swing and a miss. The mighty Google has struck out. Nuttin, nada, huh uh. (Well, that's a baby lie as it turns out there's a line of clothing called Life is Good - but no suggestions on "what do I do when life is good?")

Debbie Downer. I've never known a Debbie I didn't like, and I don't really understand the connotation other than it runs off the tongue pretty freely. Occasionally I run these goofy blogs across my brain - and it seems there's a pretty common theme of (teaching myself) "what to do when life ain't perfect." Debbie Downer antidote, so to speak. Again, apologies to any Debbies.

Fortunately, sometimes life is (even if only temporarily) pretty damn fantastic. Tranquil. Right. Calm. Smiley. Happy. Light. Fun. Carefree. Howinthehell does one handle that (no thanks to Google.)???

I ain't real sure. They say "You can't let the highs get too high and you can't let the lows get too low." Well, I understand the not getting too low on the lows (thanks Debbie Downer White Out for reminding me).. but whythehell not enjoy/immerse/love/treasure the highs?

It's known, gump will eventually happen, always does, is a trade off.. predictable.. even Google agrees (just ask Snopes).

If it's sitting by the ocean... or on a porch listening to the wind pleasure through the trees.. with a loved one, or a treasured friend - we know the feel, the moment, the place, the happening, won't last forever - but what's wrong with getting too high during the highs? (And no, no reference to any artificial induced state here)..

Song said "Been down so long it looked like up to me".. so stay up mebbe, whilst you're there. Because I'm happy
Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof
Because I'm happy
Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth
Because I'm happy
Clap along if you know what happiness is to you
Because I'm happy
Clap along if you feel like that's what you wanna do..

Thanks Pharrell, good idea.

Fleeting, all. Treasure the moment, I think I once heard. Cherish is the word. It's that wonderful time/moment when one can say "Screw you flat tire.. dead battery.. whiney coworker.. Monday morning.. overdraft.. under appreciation.. stubbed toe.. sore (hip, back, leg, muscle, demeanor)... check engine light."

When it's least expected...... sometimes the check engine light goes off. It's your lucky day.. enjoy/immerse/be happy/get UP... smile.. cause it ain't on Google's camera.

That's whatsUP. Love, Victurd.

Black Ice.....

(To me, for me, hitchhikers welcome)

Driving.. walking.. waking.. living.. interacting.. life.. All seems AOK, full steam ahead – no cause for alarm, “Feeling all right”.. It sneaks up. Transparent – yet extremely dangerous.

Could be a loved one. Could be an acquaintance. Could be you – me. Of times, masked. “I would have never guessed.” “Seems so happy though.” “Him?”.. “HER?”.. “Just when things were to the point of perfection.” “Damn, here we go again.”

If it’s another – be there. How do you know? If you are not certain ‘fer sure’ if one’s life is clouded by black ice – chances are it is. Little things loom large. A note – a smile – a phone call.. perhaps even a text. Care. Just care. Just show you care. In times of need, we ask less. In times when we need fresh air, life, camaraderie – we cocoon.

Differing scales.. Some very, very deep, dark – consistently. Others, momentarily, but just as dark. Some ‘show’: cry, have a hard time verbalizing, clam up… Others, not so transparent - burst into tears… go into lockdown. Same answer, care. Say you do. Do.

What if it’s you/me traversing life’s black ice? Try your/our hardest to switch thoughts from “what’s wrong” to “what’s right.” Much. Much is right. No, not perfect – but no matter our problem, dilemma, black ice – there is always one worse off.

Open the eyeballs – envision life’s past and what’s been important. A very good portion of that is within arm’s reach. A few gallons of gas away. Probably even in the same area code. Remember them. Love them. When the last thing you want to do is make a phone call, put on clothes, get in car, go see – make a phone call, put on clothes, get in car, go see.

Down? Try something ‘up’ for another. There’s no feel good like giving a feel good. Sometimes even simply saying “thanks” lifts.

Black ice is not something that only happens in winter, at 32 degrees and below. Black ice in life is all over, in every month, every temp – in many a household. Loved ones, friends, acquaintances.

Defensive driving in ‘life’ ain’t a bad idea. Eyes wide open, alert. Life’s problems oft times come across as transparent. Use a keen eye. Love. Love, Victurd.

Bored.....

Things I've always wondered...

Some plagiarized.

Do they take coffee breaks at the Lipton plant?

Are family arguments ever solved on Facebook? Political?

Why do people sneeze when looking at a bright light?

Why does one get exhausted during the day, yet lay in bed wide awake at night?

Why don't men 'pee a bit' when they laugh really hard?

If two people do something considered naughty, but it's consensual, would it still be deemed naughty?

If you pull the wings off of a fly, is it then called a walk?

Why don't people that are notoriously late simply set their clocks ahead fifteen minutes?

If you live in a nudist colony, where do you keep your house keys? Driver's license/Debit card? Ewww.

If someone 'defriends' you on Facebook and you notice it, should you still say "hey" in the Piggly Wiggly?

If blood is red, why are veins blue?

Why are RedBull cans blue?

If red has so much trouble in veins and RedBull, why does he always want to paint the red door black?

Why do men have nipples?

Why is it called The World Series when all the teams are in North America?

When one takes a selfie, who says "cheese"?

If you took a hummingbird and a hummingbird feeder into your car... Would it 'fly in place' and bash it's head on the rear window when you took off?

When people who normally start a sentence with "I mean....." happen to start one without adding that, should we believe what they're saying?

Should it be a tort to have 21 items in the Express Lane at WalMart?

If you plagiarize in a blog, will you go to hell?

At exactly what age does getting carded move from being a bother to a delight?

What's the average temp in hell in January?

When the first Dutch, French, Spanish immigrants came to the US in the 1600's, were they forced to "Press 1 for English?"

Happy day....... love, Victurd

Short one....

Mind out of gutter.

It ain't Thanksgiving, but I've been called a turkey in many months of the year.

Why not say "thanks" in January too?

I am thankful for the health of my friends and family. I thankful that people care, and that I care about people.

I am thankful for the seen, and unseen harmony in a world of difference. I am thankful that for every God awful story on the news, there are millions of awfully good things happening as well.

I am thankful for the ability to smile and I praise the impetus for me doing so. I am thankful for your smiles, for so frequently they are that impetus.

I enjoy good amongst strangers, and feel good amongst friends/loved ones.

I am thankful for the basic drab colors of winter - and the excitement that lends to the upcoming Spring.

I am thankful for fellow coworkers, and I feel badly for those recently let go, for there's not a one of you I wouldn't have on my payroll were I calling the shots. I feel confident of folks landing on their feet, and I believe in blessings in disguise.

I am thankful for my abilities to walk, talk, see, hear, control my arms/legs, fend for myself. Those that can't, I marvel at your strength, courage, and your choice "hey, life is good."

I am thankful for the ability to cry - for it means I've been touched. I am thankful for touching and being touched - for it's a gift of love.

I am thankful for love in all fashions... be it person, sport, politics, philanthropy, whatever the endeavor.

I am thankful for reminders of those loved, but no longer here.

I am thankful for memories, present happenings, and the zest for tomorrow.

I am thankful that I have the ability to look in the mirror, see my "too big gut", the everpresent wrinkles - to deduct "damn, it's been a fun ride getting here."

I am thankful for hope, today and tomorrow. I am thankful for life, even in those moments "the shocks don't absorb", "the struts don't feel like strutting", and when life's path offers need for an "alignment."

No. It ain't perfect, but it's perfect for me, and I hope for you as well.

Love, Victurd.

Hello 2015.....

Hi Victor... it's Victor, just here to remind you........

What are your plans for 2015? (Pete Seeger)... Are you the type that believes in "Come what may?"... (Shirley Temple).. Do you make lists of things you've always wanted to do, and pull it out and look at it from time to time? (Sid Caesar)...

Do you look at your contact list on your phone, or within your email and think "hmmm, I haven't talked/checked in with so-and-so in a long time, maybe I oughta." (Mickey Rooney)..

Are there people you love, but you've yet to gain the fortitude to open up your mouth and simply tell them so? (Barbara Gibbons, Efrem Zimbalist Jr, Sheila MacRae).. Are there loved ones to whom in the past you've freely used the word 'love', but - haven't had as much contact as you should have with them? (Ruby Dee, Casey Kasem, David Brenner)...

Are there places you've always wanted to see, and they are within your budget, but, you never make plans - instead think "Eh, I will get there one day".... (Johnny Winter).. Can you afford to set aside $25 or so per paycheck to help visit some WARM climate/place come next winter? (Robin Williams)..

Close your eyes.. think back to your friends, the times you had in school.. your first (and second and maybe third job) - the fun you had, the faces that were around.. Wouldn't now be a good time to track some of those folks down? (James Garner)..

Do you ever play the game "If this were my last day on earth - what would I do, who would I see, what would I say?"... (Lauren Bacall)

Are there somewhat selfish things you've always wanted to do but never had the kahunas to put the plan in motion? Guitar/painting/writing lessons? Join a gym? Lay in bed a bit longer to finish that book? If you're in a relationship - would having alternate "Selfish, this is what I wanna do tonight/today/this weekend" work? (Joan Rivers)...

When's the last time you wrote/mailed a letter? Remember how fun it was the last time you received one? (Oscar de la Renta)...

Oh ok, so 'resolutions/lists' aren't for you.. whatabout one day at a time, waking up and thinking "Today I'm gonna (do something I've always wanted.. go see someone I haven't seen enough of late... email/text/call him/her...)... (Joe Cocker)..

Will you awaken the same time, this time next year - and not done any/all of the above? (Maya Angelou)...

But Victor? (Victor, if I've told you once, I've told you a hunnerd times, you CAN'T start a sentence with "But").. But Victor? What if you're not even here this time next year? (Polly Bergen, Tommy Ramone, Bobby Keys, Alvin Dark, James Brady, Ann Davis, Chuck Knoll, Tony Gwinn, Sam Lacey, Don Zimmer)

Victor... look around.. even on your Facebook page... within your email list... former coworkers.. former classmates.. loved family members... many, from 2014, are not with us in 2015.

Victor, do something worthwhile with your time............. please?

Love, Victurd

I'm positive.... I think...

Back when one was five - and one had a question - it was mom/pop to the rescue. At nine, and you needed to know something, of course you relied on the twelve year old for answers... As a wet behind the ears college Freshman, it was the good ole Dewey Decimal System (IF the reference book was stored in it's proper place.)... All of the above, sometimes hit or miss.

Today, it can be Bing, Yahoo! Search, Ask, Wow, WebCrawler, Infospace - and of course the popular standby Google. So I Googled "how to stop negative thoughts/thinking" (or something like that.. DOES IT REALLY MATTER? Oooops, sorry, slipped)..

Lemme see, here's one with 7 steps.. another with 10.. (I'm positive the one with ten would be better than the one with seven, I think.)

I like to think of myself as a positive person - but oh baby oh baby do I have my moments... thus, I write/search/seek answers... ie, to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome.

#1. Meditate or yoga. Jumping to yoga, I think of 112 lb women in overly tight spandex twisting/gyrating in ways my body never could/would, so that's out. At age 62, meditation might last me three minutes before I would fall asleep - but hey, three minutes is three minutes eh?

#2. Smile. I likes that one. Happy breeds happy. Sometimes when you see the same person in smile (all the time) you wonder "I wish I knew what he/she was drinking, or taking" but - if you meet them at 7:50am in the parking lot on a 12 degree day and you see it (their smile) it congers up "hey, maybe there is something to this." Told before my smile is more like a "SEG" (u can figure that out) - I don't care, it's me/my way to smile.

#3. Surround yourself with positive people. A tad easier to do in real life/free time - choosing.. a bit tougher when at the mercy of an HR department. (And NO KIM, I don't mean you, I KNEW you read this!)

#4. Change the tone of your thoughts from negative to positive. "We are going to have a hard time adjusting to our living situation", huh uh, think "We will face some challenges in our living situation, but we will come up with solutions that we will both be happy with."... SWEET! Lemme try, "I dunno if I will make it to work before I pee my pants", instead, I'm thinking "I might have a hard time, but if I use solutions like crossing my legs..............".. uh oh. Brb.

#5. Don't play the victim. You create your life - take responsibility. I Will always have the choice to make change happen, if need be. Ok, comprende.

#6. Help someone. Shifts the focus away from you and you do something nice for another person. Reasonable, and a good idea.

#7. Remember that no one is perfect and let yourself move forward. "I felt terrible that I acted that way and that I wasted the weekend. The only thing I can do now is learn from my mistakes and move forward."

#8. Sing. HA! Haven't they heard me? I wonder what #9 is? Ok, ok - #8 is correct. I even tried it recently - and in spite of how crappy I sounded, I liked the end result, the message, the feel, the frankness. If I was writing the article though, I might term it "#8: Sing, or, listen to professional/inspirational singers." VERY good therapy for me.

#9. List five things that you are grateful for right now. Ahm, I made it to the bathroom and there WAS one roll left... my car started first time... it's my beautiful granddaughter's 4th birthday... I actually had my first date in, well, a long time.. - ok, two years damnit... I ate breakfast at HyVee and for doing so, I got an additional 5 cents per gallon off my next fill up on the wonderfully already low gas price (see, even I can learn/spout/accentuate the positive)..

#10. Read positive quotes. Thank goodness Todd Haley is no longer our head coach. You mean like "watch your thoughts, they become words... watch your words, they become actions... watch your actions, they become habits... watch your habits, they become your character.. watch your character, it becomes your destiny"?..

(Ok the ten thing list thing was good, but, perusing the seven thing list just in case something was left out.)

"The people who are the hardest to love are the ones who need love the most." Likes that too, although can be trying.

Stop thinking in extremes, all or nothing. Stop over-generalizing the negative... Don't minimize the positive... Stop mind reading.. Stop forcing your own rules.. Stop making stuff up and believing it.

Bottomline - certain I will still need help (but I'll get there. HA. SEE? Learning)..... I think it would be a good once-a-week thing to Google/Bing/Yahoo this same topic and make it a frequent, pleasant reminder.

I've rambled, sorry... kinda. Off now to find me a yoga class full of those 112 lb'ers in tight spandex... or, maybe I'll meditate instead.

I'm positive........... I think.

Love, Victurd.

Take a listen....

Christmas, of course, is just as much about the past as it is the present. I am very well aware I am (by far) not alone in having 'empty chairs' around the table this time of year..

As the sole survivor of the nuclear family I grew up in, I relate it as "I couldn't have hand picked a better family to grow up in, they just all checked out WAY too soon."

I very much miss my mother, father and sister. They are a part of me, I am a part of them - and again, almost everyone across the land shares in emptiness not only all year, but specifically (or maybe more emphatically) this time of year.

I, like most I'm sure, am very biased. My sister, as an example - trying to describe her to friends who didn't know her, or children born after her - there's no way to amply do so.

At my sister's funeral, her boss of many years, spoke for fifteen minutes on her life, her person, her business acumen - and the entire speech involved the humor she intermixed in her life therein, perfectly describing the life she led.. it was beautiful, it was teary, it (rightfully) involved 'fun/funny', and it was spot on, I was (and am) proud.

Am I weird to think "wow, I wish I had a recording of that speech - for when into the future someone might say 'Tell me about your sister' - I could simply go to the tape recorder and say 'here, take a listen.'

Gruesome, some might think. I think not. I guess I am just curious if anyone else has recorded eulogies - or wish they had. Instead of "You'd had to have known her", I could simply smile, push 'play', and say 'take a listen.'

Happy New Year, love, Victurd.

All we are saying is give peace a chance...

One two, one two three four
Ev'rybody's talking about
Bagism, Shagism, Dragism, Madism, Ragism, Tagism
This-ism, that-ism, is-m, is-m, is-m.

All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance

Midway between our crisis of the 60's, and the present crisis - I was a 'transitional' (temporary) letter carrier in Kansas City, KS. I'm ashamed to admit, I was scared to start. The unknown? I was an idiot for feeling that way. What followed was beauty. The day the USPS had their annual food drive - I delivered mail to perhaps the poorest area in the city. I drove an old Ford Pinto - and the people filled that sucker to the gills FOUR times that day with canned goods.

A month or so later (and I apologize as I've shared this before) there was an old man, guessing 80-something.. more than halfway up a 16' ladder, sawing a limb off his tree. He happened to be white. Next door neighbor walks up, happened to be black - bearing one of those long poles with a saw on the end to give to his neighbor so he could safely cut from the ground. I felt more guilt for my initial fear of working in these neighborhoods... I marveled at that sight, and I thought to myself "I wish everyone could see this."

C'mon
Ev'rybody's talking about Ministers,
Sinisters, Banisters and canisters
Bishops and Fishops and Rabbis and Pop eyes,
And bye bye, bye byes.

All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance

Centerforracialharmony.org, Belleville, IL. Office of Racial Hamony, Archdiocese of New Orleans... Bridge Center for Racial Harmony, Saginaw, MI. The Foundation for Racial, Ethnic, & Religious Harmony, West Newton, MA. (And many, many more that are organized.. and perhaps even better, the ones not formally organized - like many workplaces across the land where harmony is 'the way')

Let me tell you now
Ev'rybody's talking about
Revolution, evolution, masturbation,
Flagellation, regulation, integrations,
Meditations, United Nations,
Congratulations.

All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance

Youth. We, the elders, are supposed to be the ones that teach. Ha! Go to virtually any park in the United States and watch children promote harmony in a world of difference. "We" should feel sheepish in our inactions, in not emulating/expressing, as their unbiased love does.

Ev'rybody's talking about
John and Yoko, Timmy Leary, Rosemary,
Tommy Smothers, Bobby Dylan, Tommy Cooper,
Derek Taylor, Norman Mailer,
Alan Ginsberg, Hare Krishna,
Hare, Hare Krishna

All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance

"Darkness cannot out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.".....

"Have we not come to such an impasse in the modern world that we must love our enemies - or else? The chain reaction of evil - hate begetting hate, wars producing more wars - must be broken, or else we shall be plunged into the dark abyss of annihilation."

"I look to a day when people will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character."

"We may have all come in on different ships, but we're in the same boat now."

"I just want to do God's will. And he's allowed me to go to the mountain. And I've looked over and I've seen the promised land! I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight that we as people will get to the promised land."

All, from Martin Luther King, Jr.

All we are saying is give peace a chance
All we are saying is give peace a chance

Reallytired......

Tired: in need of sleep or rest; weary.... bored with.. no longer fresh or in good condition..

re: Once more..(reactivate).. with return to a previous state (revert)..

So, no comprende why retire is called retire. We work when we're tired. When we 'retire' it ain't "once more".. It (retire) ain't 'with return to a previous state'.. It should be reallytired.

Roy Williams, the famous basketball coach, tells his players (in reply to hearing "tired") "you're too young to be tired." I like that, I really like that. In fact, I repeat it to snotnoses (said lovingly) at work who mutter how tired they are. I'm AARP elgible. I'm SS eligible. I'm reallytired and wanna be reallytired.

It's hard, I think, to relate to people under forty, maybe even fitty, what it feels like to REALLY wanna be 'reallytired' (retired).. From day one, when we learned to march (silently) from our 1st grade chair to the lunchroom - we've been obligated to "do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign."

LinkedIn, no thanks. Resume', huh uh, ne'er again. 'Polite' (reminder) emails from HR hinting of admonishment if one doesn't "do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign" - paaaaaaaatoooooooey! Remind me, I'm tired, reallytired. I'm reallytired of being 'led'. (I looked up 'led, in a work situation' on "Vikapedia" and yep, there was a picture of a horse with blinders on it.) Ha! I wanna moonwalk (singing "ABC") from my desk to the cafeteria seat. I wanna attend only the last ten minutes of the two hour Long Range Planning Meeting. I'm reallytired. I wanna be reallytired!

I would miss the birthday celebrations. Uncle Don had a children's radio show from 1928 until 1947. One day, upon completion of his program, he forgot the turn the mike off and out slipped "THERE, that ought to hold the little bastards!".. EXACTLY, I'll buy a Mylar balloon once a month in memory of the birthdays,,, that ought hold the little bastards! (I josh, I love my coworkers, I'm just reallytired.)

I would miss the countdown (number of days until retirement) thingy on my cubicle wall I update when I get a 'polite' email, 'suggestion' from boss, list of new building rules (do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign"),etc... I guess, insteada the countdown, I could send automated emails to myself every six days reminding me to "Magic Eraser" the stool, tub, sink (not necessarily in that order.) I could have my printer automatically (sometime near the end of November each year) print an entire ream of "Roberts Rules of Order" to use as kindling to stoke my fireplace for the winter.

I'm on vacation. I could get used to this. I could enjoy one day being permanently on revacation, or reallyvacation. No alarm, no 'friendly' HR reminders, no "do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign".... why, I could even wear my undies and scratch myself on the way to the 'cafeteria' every day if I wanted!.. I could forward R and X rated emails to my buddies bypassing the intrusive IT department that presently adorns them to read "explicit language" on the receiving end. "No profanity, that shit ain't allowed here, do as I say, not as I do." Sorry, a reallytired moment. (I'll update my Cubicle calendar to 1,380 days to go when I get back.)

I gotta go.... again.. (It's an old man thing)... I hope you are reallytired. If you're just tired, then please do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign. No cussing. Do not pass go, do not collect $200 (Christmas bonus.. oops, slipped, sorry), and please put the lid down. (<-- Yes, we did get a company email on that.)

Bye now. Scratching myself enroute to the bathroom where I'll leave the lid up. Then, I'm gonna take a nap. I am really tired, figuratively to one day be literally reallytired. Sorry. kinda. The rebel in me snuck out.

Love, Victurd. ("WHAT BLOG BOSS? I don't have a blog!")

Slow music....

I think we like all speeds of life. Fast, the lefthand lane of I-70. Medium, when so lucky traversing our crowded 152. Slow, as in Richfield Road.. A Highway... a trip around the Square on Farmer's market day.

Someone recently asked "What song/music make you wanna get up and dance?" Easy answer for me.. "Shout" by The Isley Brothers. We, to me, are way comfortable in our own skin, but something like a song like that changes us in a heartbeat. Lotsa heartbeats - out of the shell we go. Like nobody's watching comes to fruition.

I enjoy The Mall - watching so many different ages, faces, body types - a melting pot - on "78 speed" for you fellow old-timers. Hurry, hurry, hurry. Go, go, go. Followed closely by "damn am I tired - I didn't realize shopping was so much work."

A sporting event where you fear to take your eyes away in case the play of the game is missed. Taut muscles. Open eyelids. Edge'a the seat stuff. Grandkids to the park, whew!

Family - ah, the perfect medium speed. Pass the mashed potatoes please. One "eye" on the conversation - the other on the tots running amuck. Sitting down in that comfy chair that mosta the time sits empty. The comfort level affords never being afraid to talk. A nice, loving pace.

Still, I like slow. A float trip with no rapids. Sitting, staring at a lake, the ocean, a river. Working 'easy' to get that heartbeat down to a minimal level. Yum.

Slow music. It speeds thinking, but in a way one doesn't feel rushed. "Seeing" with the eyes closed. The mind can go 'like 60' thinking about The Mall, the ballgame, the tots running amuck, the family, the meal, the conversation, the traffic, the "to do's", the "done dids" - all, sent down the funnel to complete relaxation.

Happens to be even yummier if one to enjoy it with. And if not, still so very nice.. I think I'll actually use this ottoman, I never do.

Where "Shout" gives us kind of an out of body experience - slow music gives us the time to be thankful for all the paces that have been in front of us - all of the life we're living/just lived. No car horns, no physical exertion, no crowd of people watching (other than our minds), no hustle bustle - just slow. Peaceful. Wonderful.

I do like all paces, and am thankful for each - but slow music is like wine for the soul. If I were to fall asleep in slow music - I could only be so lucky.

I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome. I love you slow music, thanks.

Love, Victurd

A winter's day....

A winter's day-
in a deep and dark December
I am alone-
Gazing from my window to the streets below
On a freshly fallen silent shroud of snow.
I am a rock, I am an island.

I bundle. I start car to go work. I get out to scrape. Car die. Back in, start car again. Out, scraping, half of front windshield done, half of that snow, down pantleg. That cold. Car die. Back in, back out. Almost done, car die. I remember my promise to not cuss as much. Forgive me for I have sinned.

I've built walls,
A fortress deep and mity
That none may penetrate
I have no need of friendship
friendship causes pain
It's laughter and loving I disdain
I am a rock, I am an island

I'm back in car now. Windows cleared. A hint of heat. I'd promised myself to cut down on my calories. The fat that dunlapped over my belly and behind my back, is now skin to leather with 20 degree leather seat. Wow. That cold.

Don't talk of love
but I've heard the word before
It's sleeping in my memory
I won't disturb the slumber of the feelings that have died
If I never loved I never would have cried
I am a rock, I am an island.

I coast in neutral from my spot, because 1999 car remind me it old, need 'winter foreplay' before it kick in. It die. I no cuss. I pull to side of road, that hard with no power steering. Start. I go again.

I have my books
and my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armour
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb,
I touch no one and no one touches me.

I have my Coffee and my longjohns to protect me. Car warm now. On Interstate. Roads not cleared. Oh shit (forgive me again) WHERE ARE LANES? I go 15 mph slower than others. Other cars no likey me. One was from California I think as I heard 'sunny beach' when he went by. I no ask where he live. They mad, I no care. Comes with being 60-something. Safe bet, rush hour, everyone going 15 mph less is 60-something, and think about one thing, retirement.

I am a rock, I am an island
And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries.

A winter's day- in a deep and dark December. I'm kinda into purple pinkies, purple toes, shoes that leak -driving woes. And YES, shorter days for us old farts that no can see to drive in dark, perfect! Shrinkage. Yellow snow from hound. 53'ers that spray as they pass so I no use so much washer fluid. Never mind the ten seconds I can't see road/pee a bit.

I am a rock, I am an island
And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries. 1395 days until retirement. I no county. I no rock. I no island. Boooo whooooo booooo whoooo.

Love, Victurd.

Attrition……

Merriam-Webster relates “a reduction in numbers usually as a result of resignation, retirement, or death…. weakening… wearing or grinding down by friction..”

A family photo album speaks to attrition. Gone, not forgotten.

Our local High School, Liberty, Missouri – holds an “All School Reunion” every four years for everyone that attended “the ‘old’ High School.”.. It’s a nifty affair, spread out around our small town typical “Square”. It starts on the East end with folks who graduated In the 70’s.. wide, open ‘booths’ (for each class) to hold the attendees, each adorned with a large picture of our school mascot, The Bluejay, the year of graduation written upon it.… it continues to the North, booths, each a bit smaller, for the classes of the 60’s… West side – the 50’s.. still, good sized booths, hair a tad bit grayer.. Finally, the South side.. booths smaller.. sometimes the Bluejays of the years are assembled in the same booth.. finally to the 30’s, all of the Bluejays enscribed from the 30’s in one booth – sadly, only a few attendees. Attrition.

Weakening, wearing or grinding down by friction. The number one reason people enter a Nursing Home is lack of stability. Weakening. Wearing, grinding down.

Every Christmas, at least for the last three years, the Sunday before Christmas, we’ve gone to sing Christmas Carols at Nursing Homes in our hometown, Liberty, Mo.. First year was scary, didn’t know what to expect – but pleased to report it went VERY well. We had three gals who had sung lifelong in choirs – and they carried us through.

Two years ago, not so good. Attrition. Things come up, we realize that – especially around the Holidays. Time is precious. Our number that year was not good – and our singing admittedly, wasn’t that whoopee. I am a horrible singer who ‘hides within the crowd’, and unfortunately that day, there wasn't anywhere to 'hide'.

That day, at our final home – I literally ‘lost it’. One of my best friend’s mothers was a resident there. I remember vibrant. I remember her hitting a golf ball a football field farther than I. She approached catatonic. I lost it. Attrition. Grinding down. Sad. Very sad. She is gone now.

Even in year two though, when attrition affected the size of our singing group, the residents had fun. They are, of course – of vastly differing conditions. Some, with great mind, but having body afflictions… some, with great body stability – and a mind that doesn’t necessarily remember loved ones.. recent past.. Attrition. Grinding down.

Last year was wonderful. More voices. Wonderful voices, a violin to keep us on chord (well, keep ‘them’ on chord!).. Even had a Santa among us.. and……. CHILDREN! The folks love seeing the children. Certain they help stir the memories of yesteryear.

Upon arriving at each home, we walked in with “We wish you a Merry Christmas”… Residents sang along – some. Some, ne’er opened their eyes, but lipped the lyrics. Some clapped, some cheered, some even joined in dance. Brief. The homes are big. One had three dining rooms – a song or three in each.. We go at an hour where they are either in the dining rooms – or, are making their way there.

We also had a pact, if we went past a door, and the person was bedridden – an entire song we’d sing from the hallway. Was very fun to see the smiles on the face, and the arms lifted up to wave. Good feel is a two way street.

This year, our numbers to Carol aren’t good – and adding to that, perhaps even more attrition. If we were a practiced choir, a small head count wouldn’t matter. I don’t mean that to be offensive to any previous attendee (remember, I am the one admitting to not being able to carry a tune, and the more ‘my type’, the “eeweier” it sounds!)…

Within these beds, chairs, lie/sit someone’s parents, Aunt, uncle, granny, grandpa. Some have visitors daily, some rarely or never. We’d like to think our brief Caroling uplifts, all. I know several of us who Caroled no longer have parents on this earth. Maybe somehow, attending/singing is the next best thing.

We don’t have enough people to go this year, and if any attrition were to occur it would be completely embarrassing. One final ‘shout out’, and we’ll make a decision tomorrow (Wednesday, 12/17) “yay or nay” as to whether to postpone for a year or not.. If you live close, have the time, and wanna – I can promise ‘good feel’. For you. For them. Love, Victurd:

CHRISTMAS CAROLING AT 3 LIBERTY AREA NURSING HOMES... Anyone/everyone welcome ("Just folks"). Sunday, 12/21, we'll meet *after* the Chief's game, at 3:45pm in the Parking lot of Conrads. (NW Corner of 152/291 Intersection.) We'll go to Pleasant Valley Manor, Our Lady of Mercy, and finish at Ashton Court. 4th Annual, if you've never attended, PLEASE DO! We need a minimum of 15 (Last year we had an AWESOME # of folks show up!) Great singing voice not a necessity, it's the spirit that counts. You are welcome to share this posting, the more the merrier – please (Facebook) message Vic Schultze if you are planning to attend. THANKS!

Hugs....

Near the top of the "life" chain is the hug. It's brief, long, awaited, exhilarating, comforting, empathetic, sympathetic, rewarding, reconnecting, lovely thing that speaks to I love/like you.

I've found (shut the front door Victor) that one can go a long time without "you know", but, one has to have a hug - with decent frequency. Hugs ain't gender specific, race specific.. they're perhaps not specific of anything other than, I like you, I love you, I'm thankful for you, I'm proud of you, I've missed you, this feels really good.

Hugs are a brief action that oft times relives many good years, memories.. catches up. Hugs from little ones come free with butterfly kisses... Hugs between admiring ones, often are adorned with deep kisses.

Guy friends can be reluctant to hug, so hugs between good male friends really break down perceived barriers, and speak to "man, you're a good dude, we've had some fun together."

It is said basic needs include sun, water, air, food, and a habitat with the right temperature. Not 100% would agree I'm aware, but hug should mebbe be on that list as well.

Two little arms from below reaching up, followed by perhaps the best kind of hugs of all.

A passionate, immersed hug - well...ok, maybe the one just above is a close second.

Nonverbal, yet speaking volumes. Light, polite... or strong, like "I ain't afraid to show my feelings for you, howthehell ya been, I have great memories of you, me, us." Hugs are a very simple thing - so much stronger, and with much less effort than any mediation.

Hugs celebrate. A touchdown. Home run. Marriage. Graduation. A job offering. A job well done. Retirement. A friendship. An absence. A courtship. A long bliss.

Stolen:

A hug is a handshake from the heart.

A kiss without a hug is like a flower without the fragrance.

You can't wrap love in a box, but you can wrap a person in a hug.

Just remember, you can't wrap your arms around a memory, so hug someone you love, today.

Love (and hugs), Victurd.

The ups.

There was a time in my life when hearing "Like I said" was fingernails on the chalkboard, drumsticks on the aluminum trash can lid. All that said, scraped, ratta tat tatted, like I said, I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome.

Life is full of emotion. Moods. The blahs. The good, the bad, the ugly, the "oh baby". Our eyes, ears, hearts, bellies, breaths are intertwined like a car battery getting amps... or not. (Eww, that comparison reeked of "You might be a redneck!").. We're "after coffee", "after booze", "after a rough day". "After a letdown." The 'after', affects our moods.

Thank goodness, for every splinter, spill, fall, failure, fender-bender, speeding ticket, overdraft, broken bone, illness, breaking news yuck story, loss of a loved one - we counter all those by the wonder of 'the ups'. I love 'the ups.'

The first time you hold that baby in your arms. The moment you hold your breathe after seeing their VERY FIRST step. That feel you get when you've taken the training wheels off, pushed for 30 yards - you let go - and, 'the ups' happen.

My two year old grandson. Just about every time I go to his house, first thing he does is run, get his shoes - come up to me and mutter beggingly "paaarrrrkk?" He remembers the fun we have. I love that. I get 'the ups'. (And I feel horrible we live in a climate where there are long stretches it's too dadgum cold to go to the park.)

The school play, 'their line' - preparation before supper, after supper, on the way to school. Finally, it happens - their line. You watch proudly, you pray it goes well, it's said and done, and done well. Their eyes seek you, find you, 'the ups'.

Last year, at our company Christmas dinner - having had a dreadful 4th quarter (but wonderful year) we hoped/prayed/crossed fingers enough $$'s could be squeaked out in bonus we could buy our loved ones Christmas. We were all literally floored when our President announced an amount that not only allowed us to buy a nice Christmas, but an amount allowing us to buy a damn good one. My buddy, her spouse laid off a good chunk of the year, after hearing, started crying. "The ups" got her, and I loved it.

At a wedding awhile back, the very beautiful bride - a graceful lady who never ever wanted the spotlight - had it shown on her as she was asked to repeat the vows. She started shivering, quivering, stammering - shaking. My first reaction was to breathe in, breathe out in attempt to somehow give this beautiful lady some breath - but my second reaction was "how much this means to her". And I found comfort. She wonderfully gathered herself, finished remarkably, and EVERYONE there - got 'the ups'.

I fall in love too damn easily, it's demonstrated. As a tradeoff, I get 'the ups' very easily. The Royals in October afforded many of those. A surprising, wonderfully orchestrated flash mob gives me 'the ups'. Sometimes happy tears are involved, I ain't afraid to admit, and that (the tears) even makes it 'uppier'.

I love seeing postings on the social media of the father/bride in their slow, somewhat mundane, mandated father/bride dance... allofasudden have the music cranked, fast, speedy wonderful music replaces the ho-hum background music, and 'poof' a niftily choreographed twosome dance routine sends the audience to tears, cheers, laughter, and a healthy case of 'the ups'. The dad/daughter looking at one another upon completion, even 'uppier'.

I've got an old trunk in the living room, filled with 62 years of memories. Sometimes, insteada playing Sudoku, running the fridge for a chicken sandwich, insteada a nice nap... insteada watching a ballgame I really don't have a passing interest (simply to pass time) - I open this trunk.

Many of the pictures inside are of those gone. Of course that's sad, yet, looking thru them reminds me, 'takes me back', makes me well up, make me smile/laugh, remember, find joy - and have, 'the ups'.

Depression. Happens. I believe to us all, in varying degrees, sometime only for a moment for some, sometimes for a month for others. I find 'the ups' to be my own personal Wellbutrin, Paxil, Prozac, serotonin.

Gotta run. Joint I go to is having Customer Appreciation night. Earlier this summer I'd gone there, the discussion was "The Royals" and I mentioned that it was an unusual year for I hadn't made it to a Royal's game yet. Next time I went in, manager hands me a coupon for two Royal's tickets, WOW, nice! 'The ups.' Meeting buddies there, quite certain there will be some 'the ups' moments.

I could never karaoke as I always get the words messed up. How's that song go? Been down so long it looks like 'the ups' to me?

Love Victurd.


strike>

Goofy........probably....

I'm thankful daily for hearing my alarm at 5:20am. ("Pavlov's dogs" awaken me every Saturday and Sunday about the same time for breakfast at Hy Vee).. I'm thankful for breakfast at Hy Vee.

I'm thankful for a car that starts., a furnace that turns on, and a fridge that keeps my food (beer) cold.

I'm thankful for wherever it is flies go in the winter. I'm thankful for paying a hunnerd dollars a month to watch the Channel 9 news every day.

I'm thankful for those I would never wanna text, phone, go to lunch with for never texting, calling, asking to go to lunch.

I'm thankful for getting up in the dark, grabbing a pair of undies and three socks, scooting to the bathroom only to find a matching pair of socks, sometimes three.

I'm thankful for being 62 and not wanting a boss that continually looks over my shoulder, and for having a boss that doesn't continually look over my shoulder.

I'm thankful for caller ID and the wonder of discern. Even though I occasionally slip, I'm thankful age has taught me not to blurt, talk/type/regret when I hear/see/read something that makes me wanna barf.

I'm thankful for store's restrooms that have those automatic flusher thingys that actually work. I'm thankful, when they don't work, when there's no one close on my heels to take my place in the stall.

I'm thankful that for 5 year olds, race is, "first one to the tree and back."

I'm thankful for Mr. Clean's Magic Eraser, and for the Dollar Tree where I can buy 'generic' for half the cost.

I'm thankful for Apartment living in that my walk is shoveled, my grass is mowed, and when something in my apartment doesn't work, one call to the maintenance man, presto- it's like snapping one's fingers.

I'm thankful none of the folks in my building play "American Werewolf in London" (or similar) at way too many decibels at 2am. I'm thankful the neighbors above me moved even though I'm not personally opposed to amor at 3am. I'm thankful my ceiling has sturdy crossbeams.

I'm thankful for living where we have four seasons, giving one just cause to bitch no matter the month/weather.

I'm thankful for Freedom of Speech (in spite of, scroll to 'barf' above).. I'm thankful for merchants that reciprocate with "Hi" and say "thanks" cause they know if it weren't for us, they wouldn't be there.

I'm thankful for being able to backsapce. I'm thankful for being a male every time I walk in an ORI.

I'm thankful for my windshield wiper solution, even though I pay twice as much as most, as about half the spray shoots over the top of my car. I'm thankful, when people tailgate, I'm able to use my windshield wiper solution.

I'm thankful for being a simpleton, probably over-loving me some Liberty Bluejays, William Jewell Cardinals, Missouri Tigers, Kansas City Royals and Kansas City Chiefs. I'm thankful I'm one the edge of my seat when watching. I'm also thankful it doesn't bother me that I haven't the foggiest idea when someone says "Remember that game back in '94?"

Never been a big fan of thrill rides or jungle gyms, but love that life is a rollercoaster and a teeter-totter.

I'm thankful for breasts, at Kentucky Fried Chicken. I'm thankful for folks who jump to conclusions only to find themselves wrong.

I'm thankful for my BFF. He's occasionally an idiot. Sometimes imbibes. Can certainly be opinionated. He gets irate when vendors get an attitude. Mostly though, he's a wuss, but again, I like him, for he is me. (If one can't enjoy being in one's own skin... well, nevermind.)

I'm thankful there wasn't a class in college entitled "Women", for I would have received an "INC". I'm thankful I enjoy the quest of trying to figure out women, but knowing I never will. I'm thankful that 50% of you that just read that didn't get pissed off because you're aware AT LEAST half of my best friends are women.

I'm thankful for the opportunity to sit here and write whateverinthehell I wanna, and it really doesn't bug me too much what others think about it.

I'm even thankful my dad called me Victurd. (Count your blessings, unless you were a shop teacher)...

Love, Victurd.

Have you ever noticed?

Those that smile.

I am immersed in those that smile so... Years and years of being able to open my eyes daily, also tells me these people have wonderfully good hearts.

I, like many, find myself (certainly at times) in the dregs of "I don't wanna go to work today... I hate Mondays.. Come on 5 o'clock... It really sucks the funds are so low... WHY ME? This ALWAYS happens to ME!.." Paddling life upstream. Pity, as in self.

Not the smilers. Nuh uh. You can't tell if they've got a migraine... if their rent check just bounced.. if the love of their life is now the love of someone else's life... or if they're simply just having a really crappy day.

For many, many years - I've preferred to live life in the background. Heck, when I did/do talk, people say "Huh?" cause my voice is so goofily soft. No longer though. My all-time favorite boss (an Elementary Principal where I taught) offered out "catch 'em being good." I liked that, I really liked that. Doesn't have to apply to children only though.

The other day, a smiler walked by me. From my spot in the background, I've watched this person walk by some 4,376 times - and each and every time, with smile. On this, the 4,377th time, I emailed this person. "Just wanted to let you know, I really think you have a great take on life, and I really think it's cool you always, ALWAYS offer your smile to others. You must have had really good role models growing up."

This person emailed back "That may be the nicest compliment anyone has ever given me." (And this isn't why I write, anyone can wing a compliment, not everyone can 'earn' them).. Continuing "My ex left me when I was pregnant with our 3rd child. Never a penny of child support. My kids lived on mac and cheese, no milk, because it's all I could afford. My grandparents were my role models, and you're right, I remember them smiling all the time. My sister married a millionaire and is never happy - me, I guess I'm just happy for what I have, even at times when it isn't much. I always wanted to go to college but could never afford.. well, I finally got remarried, went back to college, and now I have my degree."

Wow. Far out. Smile out.

I have friends who,it's pretty obvious, live with physical difficulties.. you see struggle, hurt, and most assuredly (on the inside) have to wonder WHY ME? You could never tell on the outside. They smile. Lots. Often. Mostly without impetus.

Another thing I've noticed. A smile generally brings one back in the other direction. What better?

Stealing a few:

"Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." Dr. Seuss.

"Peace begins with a smile.." Mother Teresa.

"If you only have one smile in you, give it to the people you love. Don't be surly at home, then go out in the street and start grinning 'Good morning' to total strangers." Maya Angelou.

"You'll find that life is still worthwhile, if you just smile." Charles Chaplin.

That's about it. I guess we should smile. It's inexpensive. It isn't nearly as difficult as a jumping jack. It seems to 'talk.' It makes an impression on depression, both in giving and receiving. Seems people that give smiles are also givers. Seems there's some kind of connection between the heart and a smile.

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

Love, Victurd.

People are strange when you're a stranger

Faces look ugly when you're alone
Women seem wicked when you're unwanted
Streets are uneven when you're down

A ten minute walk through Google related at least 28 different meanings behind the writing of this song.. depression.. seeing strange people on the tour.. acid/LSD.. He had writer's block, walked to the top of the canyon where he lived, observed a Hallucinogenic party in a backyard nearby, went running home "I need to write! I need to write!".. the fact that Jim himself, while brilliant, was strange (at least he supposedly perceived himself, and others, as that)..

When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange

One 'guesser' as to the meaning of these lyrics also wrote "there's a person I don't like in the cubicle next to me, and when she gets real loud, I start singing this song... it bugs her." (LIGHTBULB! I'm gonna try this!)

People are strange when you're a stranger
Faces look ugly when you're alone
Women seem wicked when you're unwanted
Streets are uneven when you're down

I do believe the hint of depression. When one is alienated, even if self induced, we perhaps tend to see others as strange so we can be more accepting of our own self. I know it's the day and age of HR Departments perusing public message boards, Facebook, etc. That said, I don't care, there are some strange folks at work - and yeah, maybe I'm even one of 'em! (Ever seen a guy wear the same jacket 20+ years?)

When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange

The City. Happens to be Kansas City where I'm near, but a trip to The City oozes of strange people, at least coming from the shoes of this simpleton suburbanite. It's reinforcement of "how lucky I am/we are to live where we live." (Even though all the while the next door neighbor is maybe a sexual offender, religious zealot, or, has been in a "People of WalMart" chain email.)

When you're strange
Faces come out of the rain
When you're strange
No one remembers your name
When you're strange
When you're strange
When you're strange

"Women seem wicked when you're unwanted?"... Hmmm, MAYBE! All's fair in love and war, could as easily been written "Men seem wicked when you're unwanted". Another vice versa way to like ourselves.

We're all strange. Unique. I'm unique, just like you. We look different, act different, think different, believe differently, dress differently. Queer, I believe we called it, before we even knew what the word actually insinuated.

Strange blog. Sorry. Kinda. Strange person. Don't be a stranger, love VIcturd.

I had abs then.

1985. I/we also had $260 in savings, and permission ("uh huh, sure, like they're gonna draw our name") to put it towards the 'lottery' for Playoff/World Series tickets. Forgive me Father, my sister lived in Jackson County, I used her addy for preferential treatment.

Presto. In the mail, tickets for each/every game. $260 won't even buy one standing room World Series tick this year.

Memories fade, but I will never forget Game 6 with my brother inlaw Terry - and the absolute loudest roar (Forgive me Chiefs/Seahawks/Guinness) I've ever heard when Dane Iorg knocked in the tying and winning runs in the 9th. Strangers hugging strangers. Hands/palms, before the fist bump was even invented, hurt from all the high 5's.

Game 7. HAD to win - coming from behind in the ALCS, AND coming from behind in the World Series. Two tickets, RIGHT BEHIND home plate, the very last row in the upper deck. I wore a goofy shirt in which I'd drawn the State of Missouri (huge) on the back. Along with (probably sloppily) written words "May the West team win." No outs to go. Did.

Parade. Confetti. I can't wait until next year! Wilson's legs will carry him into his 40's.. Hell, George can DH into the new millennium, and Leo will still be winging BB's for years. Even if later he only hits .250 Frank can glove it well into the 90's. Who needs to invest in a 401K, hell, I'll be alright.

HA!

TWENTY NINE FRIGGIN YEARS! Twenty losing seasons in twenty nine friggin years.

Howser (RIP) only one more year. Then, Mike Ferraro, Billy Gardner, John Wathan, Bob Schaefer, Hal McCrae, Bob Boone, Tony Muser, John Mizerock, Tony Pena, Bob Schaefer again, Buddy Bell, Trey Hillman - and finally NedYo.

The exodus. Kevin Appier. Jermaine Dye. Johnny Damon. Raul Ibanez. David Dejesus. Carlos Beltran. Many others.

Hi, my name is (Lindsay Lohan, Lady Gaga, Mary Kate [and Ashley] Olsen, Usain Bolt, Colin Kaepernick, Tim Tebow, Rihanna, Kevin Durant, Russell Wilson, Jamaal Charles) and I wasn't alive in 1985.

2,310 losses, 5 Presidents, 783 'Ketchup wins', 3,465 Derek Jeter hits, 5,460 Late Shows with David Letterman later - we're back!

We (Lohan, Gaga, Olsens, Bolt, Kaapernick, Tebow, Rihanna, Durant, Wilson, Charles, 467,000 Kansas Citians, hundreds of thousands more throughout the land) just witnessed perhaps the greatest sport's week in the History of Kansas City.

They're fast. They glove it. They've got hair allover, many different "do's". They pitch. Oh do they pitch. They mingle with Joe Citizen. They're charitable. Sure, they can be brash. They fear no one.

Driving down the road today, one of the National Sports Talk shows was talking about the upcoming World Series between the San Francisco Giants and the Kansas City Royals. "OUCH!" (Sorry.. I pinched myself. I heard it, I REALLY HEARD IT!)

My kid, your kid, our kid's kids, we all getta see it. There are no Blue laws on Sunday anymore, in fact, they're selling T-shirts at damn near anyplace that accepts a debit card. The South Korean kid is coming back. My cousin's preschool grandson can recite the entire batting order. There's a buzz. A unification. Strangers hugging strangers.

"OUCH!"... It's real. Love, Victurd.

Get over it.

Nope. Nada. Sorry. Not.

I love living in the past. Ok, lemme rephrase. I love remembering the past. Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. Yes, this blog has cobwebs, but one might recall sometimes seeing the lyrics of a song, accompanied by a rather poor attempt at humor. I Googled for about an hour this morning, searching for an adequate, timely song about yesterday/this mindset. Gave up. They all touched on a former relationship - and whilst I've been there, it ain't why I find delight in (occasionally) dwelling in the past. Ok, scratch that. I'm addicted to the past, and scoff if you may, I don't find that such a bad thing.

Fun, smiles, giggles of yesteryear bring grins, happiness, and contentment of today. My/our worlds are a canvas, and it couldn't have been painted any better.

Are things, is life, perfect? Quoting my stepson, "Not no's, but hells no's"... So what Victor? What are you saying? I'm saying today's worries bring my eyes to closure to remember mom's pecan pies. Aunt Ethel's biscuits. Riding my bike to the City Park with my baseball glove on the handlebars. The crack of a bat. The cracked bat, the screw to fix and the electric tape.

The worn out base paths in our front yard, and being thankful for parents who cared more about 'this seed', than any damn award-winning perfect lawn.

I remember, and am thankful for, all I learned in the early stages of school - and who nowadays looks at teachers/preteen kids and stops and thinks "they're learning things they'll take with them into the latter stages of their lives."? I do. And I smile, and relate.

I am thankful for friends, and the lesson, to have a friend, you gotta be a friend. After two days of silence, my phone finally received a text message the other day. OH BOY! Who? What? Event planned? "Just saying hi"? A life 'touch'? Will I see the word 'love'? Nuh uh, it was my cell phone provider relating they had just taken out fitty-two bucks to pay my monthly bill. Victor, you gotta be a friend to have a friend. Life reminders.

Yesterday my belly was flat, and I regret never standing, turning sideways, staring at the mirror with "HOLY SHIT! WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT!".. Ahh, yesterday.

This past weekend, our hometown abound with yesterday. Lined up around the town Square, 'kids' from the classes of 1930-something, to 1970-something. A walk around conjured many a mem... Or course, sometimes shocking to see aging's progression - but you can never take the kid outta one's heart. It was our sock hop with shoes and wrinkles. Our victory homecoming celebration, no matter the fact that tying our shoes has once again become a chore, like in first grade.

Jolt to today, 2014: Suddenly, I'm not half the man I used to be - There's a shadow hanging over me - Oh, yesterday came suddenly... And I'm so very glad it's there in the back of my brain.. to reflect, remember, enjoy, appreciate, LOVE the blood, sweat and tears.. to one day just let me go naturally. Victor, time out. That's 3 GD (gosh darn) songs in one blog. That's illegal today. Uh huh, sure, but this is about yesterday, sorry. My rules. I vote "get your own damn blog!"

Yesterday includes errors, mishaps, band aids, stitches, plaster casts, broken relationships, loss of loved ones, pets I canardly remember their names now - and all of the 365 times however many sunrises/sunsets we've been fortunate enough to witness.

Dont' think twice it's all right. (VICTOR! I give up!) No, yesterday wasn't perfect. Like I said (OH I hated when heard that!) the fun, smiles, giggles of yesteryear bring/have brought the grins, happiness, and contentment of today. Peace out. May your today bring tomorrow's grin. And if our memories one day dwindle, die out: then it's once again fun, being a kid, learning, Franklin School - here we come again!... Say, can you help me with this shoe?

Love, Victurd.

Aging has made me take notice....

The body, 'she' changes. I had an ole' Chrysler LeBaron.. Sat so low to the ground, getting in and out was an experience in and of itself. In fact, I kinda felt entitled, like I didn't have to go to the gym that day 'cause I'd already had my exercise simply getting behind the wheel and back out. I 'talk' to my body as I 'tumble' in/out, but it hasn't listened, paid attention, behaved for some ten years now. As I bend, twist, gyrate - balance sometimes goes - and I'm forced to simply laugh - like, "oh shit, I hope no one saw that!"..

Same thing with undies. Huh? VICTOR!!!! No, for real, it's never happened to you? You put your right foot in... you raise the left leg, but age doesn't allow you to cooperate and place it inside, so again, the balance goes - and you find yourself hop-hop-hopping the old age hop on one foot (naked) - your hand eventually finds a wall for balance. Not a good "selfie" moment, but - you giggle and realize, age has made me take notice.

You go into a large store, you know, like WalMart, or Piggly Wiggly.. you see sooooo many younger folks, you take it upon yourself to "by god, I'm gonna walk aisle by aisle until I see someone older than me." You eventually end up in the Lawn and Garden department, remember you live in an apartment - and ask yourself "now what in the hell was I looking for?" Age has made me take notice, notice?

You walk around a corner at work, a coworker pops outta nowhere, so you swerve, scrape your arm on a door jam mildly - wake up the next day and you've got a 4" by 6" black and blue thing on your arm that looks like you just left the ring from an MMA battle.

Like a good boy, you attend the optional health screening thing at work. BP, a little blood taken, and finally height, weight, and waist measurement. One, I've shrunk. Two, I weigh more, but "by god, my pants ARE, and always have been, a 36".. "You don't need to measure my waist ma'am, it's been a 36 for eons" I think to myself. But she does anyways.. "HEY WAIT! YOU'RE MEASURING AROUND MY BELLY BUTTON, NOT MY WAIST" I yell, to myself. "Ok, 41" sir." CRAP!.. Age has made me take notice.

To Do lists, Pocket organizers, IPad reminders, have been reduced to "Eh, I'll do that tomorrow." One of the nicer things about old age, choice of what one does. I call it the (close your ears) "I don't give a shit what anyone else thinks, when I do (or don't) get it done - my pace." Maybe tomorrow, maybe next week - borrowing from Frank, "I did it my way."

Flatulence happens. OUTTA NOWHERE! Walking across the room at work (on this the fourth trip to the john this morning) and flatulence (audible to 6 nearby coworkers) happens. You giggle. Scrape your heel on the tile in hopes of fooling coworkers, continue on, and realize, age has made me take notice.

Inchlong eyebrow hairs. Half inch hairs protruding from your ear lobe. I HATE GOOD LIGHTING! Embarrassed, you clip, pull, giggle, and realize, age has made me take notice.

Watching friends, loved ones in health battles - at least ONE area of my life I've cleaned up. I eat better, wiser. But, mebbe once a week, I cheat. A Snicker's bar, yum. That all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet @ HyVee - HEY, it takes awhile to read the Sunday paper, I might as well be busy eh? It kinda feels like I'm getting away with something.. Like driving to an 18 bar in HS, or mebbe skipping 7th hour and not getting caught. Age, has made me juvenile in some ways. I've taken notice of that, and I really don't care what anyone thinks.

I've sat in this chair, continuously now, for some two-plus hours. A pile of laundry, an unmade bed, and an empty fridge stare at me. I'll get to it. Later. Maybe. Sometime.

Aging fortunately doesn't tell the brain to 'think old'. Aging adamantly tells one, "by god, I can still do that." He/she said I was too old to do/for that? HA! Watch me! Other day, up popped a picture of that new waterslide in town, THE tallest one in the world. I argued internally as to whether or not I would/wouldn't go for it. Long about that time, a gal three years older than me in HS wrote "Count me in!" I love aging, kinda, often, mostly, sometimes.

I've got to go now. (Victor, you've already peed five times and it's not even nine am.) I know, aging has made me take notice. No, I really HAVE to go. "Cause I think I'm gonna sit here a couple more hours in front of the computer and do nothing. Pretty important stuff (choosing) when you're old.

May you all have old age, giggle moments. Better to have them now than to withhold them, and find yourself one day be looking up at sod, thinking "I shoulda laughed at myself more."

With flatulence, brownspots, protruding hairs, procrastination, hop-hop-hop, Love, Victurd.

Fathers.......

Stick an 'r' in there, and the definition goes farther. Yes, on this day we stop and think of our own fathers - and of course, I'm in that boat.

One paragraph (only), I promise:

My father was happy. Lived, without knowing so, as an example. Found humor where others might fret. A knack for making those around him feel comfortable. A tag team parent whose philosophy was "Well, if you wanted to do it, and we could afford it, and it wasn't hurtful to you - we were amenable." Always drove 5-10 miles under the speed limit (sister and I would clap if he ever passed a car on the ole' two lane highways), loved cooking, singing, and an occasional Budweiser. Loved acting, and continued that role in real life. Could/would tell a ten minute story, leaving you wondering "where is this going/is he making this up", glued to him, knowing full well he'd "gotten you" before - eventually closing with a long premeditated one sentence punchline - that on more than one occasion brought laughter, along with a sometime a "Oh sh%, Bud!", a smirk, and a look of wonderment.. (Got me again!) I miss him, and in a way (hopefully), he lives within.

Other fathers. As a kid, young adult, coworker, friend, teacher, coach, umpire/referee - I've been very fortunate to observe many wonderful fathers (And certain you feel this as well.) There is nothing like the father/daughter bond - witnessed by the many Father/Daughter Wedding dances posted on the internet. Proud. Father/Son, a game of catch, fishing, changing the plugs on an old Chevy, lessons of discipline, respect - and by example the right way to treat a woman.

"Our" era, the tail end of the mom at home, dad at work thing. Perhaps we took mom for granted - for attention always turned to pop when he eventually came home.

I love the pictures, remembrances, kind things people display - about their fathers. I love the way girls/women, say "Daddy" with the such affection. Daddies become grandpas, and allofasudden, relive. Had an uncle whom I never saw without him holding one of his granddaughters in his arms. The bond is passed on a generation.

Moms as dads. Along the way, I've witnessed all too many children having their father absent from the picture. Most, with little or no child support - '"fought the battle" admirably, and wonderfully picked up the slack in being both mom/dad, as well as breadwinner.

Too, grandkids without dads (and moms).. Being 61, I CANNOT imagine raising children, but witnessed many a grandparent who does/has - and without chagrin. Many different reasons, abandonment, death, immaturity....I have friends who were raised by their grandparents - and somehow their love is extra special between.

Non-blood 'fathers'. Teacher, coaches, bosses, clergymen, friend's fathers, neighbors, etc. People who have taken an interest in a child/youth's development - setting father-like examples along the way. You hear it often, "he was like a father to me."

While "Father's Day" is specific (and truly is), it's also much broader. Farther.

I am gonna go lay down for 15, 20 minutes - close my eyes..reflect.. and think, of course, about my own father.. but too about moms that were/are 'dads'.. grandpas (and grandmas) who unselfishly raised/are raising.. and the many father figures that have touched me in life's passings.

Happy Farther's Day. Love, Victurd.

A fair day.....

I'm weird. I love words. Fair is a wonderful, diverse word.

We want educators, law enforcement, judges, politicians (ha!), parents, playmates, umpires/refs, to be fair. 3 year old granddaughter, heard it enough that (when playing with her one year old brother) bestows "Play fair!"...

We buy presents at Christmas time. Gotta make sure, to buy/spend equal amount on those we love. Two grandbabies, GOTS be fair. I go buy, lay them all out on the bed, decide "nope, he/she needs one more", go, buy one more. Now: fair.

We ride the Ferris wheel, eat funnel cakes, have livestock competition, rodeos, at the Fair.

We argue fair or foul. Now, it's decided electronically if protested. Hopefully, the dudes in NY that review - have larger TV's than the 5 inch monitor the football ref peeks his head into under that tarped tripod. That would only be fair. Or foul.

Forecast: fair, partly cloudy.

Fair grades. That was me! Mediocre sure, but fair! Gaining my undergraduate degree was probably the best six years of my life! Seeing these kids nowadays, athletes graduating in three years, Seniors in HS going to college already having 18 credit hours under their belt, holy guacamole!

California Chrome. More than a fair amount of publicity. A feel good story, horse didn't cost that much, trainer, 77 years old, first Derby horse.. two scintillating wins.. Belmont, final leg of the Triple Crown, not so much. Ran a good race, but not even in the money. Moments after, co-owner complained/lamented "NOT FAIR!". "Our horse ran all three races.. the winner rested two.. they're teaming up against us!".. Kinda dampered the feel good. Not fair, but happened.

Fair to middling. Fair and square. A fair shake. Fair enough!

Being a redhead, fair-skinned. I don't get tan, I get additional freckles. Not fair, but I'm fair, skinned.

Fair and equitable, divorce settlement. Some, in disagreement, go on, and on, and on, and on, and on... which, lends one to eventually think: hey, maybe it WAS fair.

Jury duty. Car wreck. Guy was speeding, at fault. Injuries. Fair and equitable amount due. How to decide? Twelve of us (I think it was.) All agreed "he owes", but how to obtain a fair amount? Scratch an amount on a piece of paper, throw out the high and the low, take the average. Fair? Dunno, but that's what we did.

Illness. Not fair. Bias, huh uh. Age, color, religious beliefs, sexual orientation, size, looks, dress - all 'judged'. Not fair.

Article in paper this morning. Young man out on the Lake, taken into patrol boat for liquor violation, handcuffed behind the back, lifejacket thrown over his head. Of course, still under investigation, not incriminating here. He fell overboard, drowned. Not fair. There is no fair compensation for death.

Another article about ALS, the Lou Gehrig disease. Not fair, but Lou, tragically en route to death, in a ceremony honoring him, harkened "today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of the earth." The article related the heartfelt relationships of ALS victims, and KC area sport's legends. Chief's General Manager John Dorsey and his mother, Tom Watson and his caddy, George Brett and his best friend. ALS is not fair, but they all persistently work to raise funds, find a cure.

In discussing the unfairness of this disease (and terminal illness in general) - George Brett related he once asked Dan Quisenberry "Don't you ever stop and and ask 'why me?'. Quiz answered, "No.... why NOT me?".... Wow.

Buck O'Neil, a very, very good "Negro Leagues" baseball player was denied entry into the Major Leagues due to his color. By the time Jackie Robinson played, Buck was past his playing prime, but did later become the first African American coach. When asked if he was bitter, shoulda happened earlier. Not fair. Buck replied "I was right on time." Another wow.

Fair (the word) is beautiful, ginger, just, impartial, sunny, average and maybe unfair all in the same.

Fair time to stop, written enough. Happy day, love, Victurd.

Tape......

A few months back, I'd thrown lawnchairs behind the backseat in my ole' 95' Lebaron convertible so the grandbabies would have a place to sit. After dropping them off - the weather was el gorgeous, so I put the top down.... Crunch. Lawnchair tried (and did) come thru the back window - shattering it into a kajillion pieces. A $300 boo boo.

Heavy plastic and tape worked....... for a short. I made light of it, and car was undoubtedly the laughing stock of work parking lot. A week or so later, the transmission decided it had had enough. (Can you use 'had had' together?) There's no taping a transmission, and the fee to fix (along with the window replacement) almost doubled the value of the car, so, one phone call to junkyard "yeah, we'll buy it, $300,"... "Ok, works."

Car shopping. "Upgraded" to an ole' '99 Grand Marquis - hey, don't laugh, it came complete with a cassette tape player, one of those trunk/alarm/auto-lock thingies (Even though moments happened like when I walked out of the Piggly Wiggly and my trunk was up for no fathomable reason.) - and a numerical 'combination code' to gain entry - setup with the feller's birthday date from 1920. Cool.

This blog is checkenginelight for a reason. I think back to Bill Hallisey's (wonderful man) "Used and Abused" junk store - and that's kinda been the story of my car history, as well as other/all facets of life... house looking great, furnace goes out... job awesome, fly anywhere for $6, company goes bankrupt.. married to the prettiest lady in town, oops, there she went.

Pity? Hardly. I've loved my life, the path. Just when the moment comes to start acting all cocky, reality sets one back in place. Anyways, you get the drift.. I think.

Tape. Long about 100 miles into traversing around town in my "damn this thing is big, I've already run over two curbs turning right" car, I noticed some black electrical tape to the left of the speedometer. Seems the 'checkenginelight' was consistently on, and figure the old dude covered it with the black tape so it wouldn't bug him driving at night. This/my age, completely understand - and appreciate.

Correction tape, somewhat passé', but I still occasionally use it for errors when faxing docs at work. Backspacing is the 'new' tape. Duct tape/bailing wire. All the King's horses and all the King's men.....

Some things, tape doesn't work on. Won't bring a bullet back. Won't make words flown out of the mouth inaudible. A Facebook post can be deleted - but certain there are similar addicts as I who've surely read - cannot be taped over.

Victor, you're rambling again, tape your mouth shut. HAHA, and nanny nanny boo boo, it's my fingers 'talking'! OK, well then is there a moral to all this cockamamie writing?

I suppose. We all have 'tape moments'. They frustrate us. Remind us of life's imperfections. Our imperfections. And that we're human. (Victor, you can't start a sentence with "and".) And errors (will) happen.

We (all, I think) beat ourselves up occasionally when words have flown out and we wished we had had (geez Louise) tape over our mouth. Actions, behaviors, events happen often in life, and there is no correctable tape that can heal.

Duct. Scotch. Gorilla.. Worm (eww). Cassette. Video. Correction. When the story of our lives is taped together - about the only workable response is to laugh - admire the water that's gone under the bridge - and prepare to enjoy the current ahead.

No clever tape saying to end this. (Victor, who ever said your endings were clever?) Right you are alter ego. I could have backspaced you out, but you keep me in line - as do tape moments - and life. Love, Victurd.

Living.... not dying... Your grade?

Someone posted a very interesting article written by someone who worked very closely with folks who were dying. There was a 'title' for her position - but now I can't find it.

Anyways, there were 5 common threads/regrets that ran true in those she cared for:

1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

You? Selfishly, I think I now do this since I'm divorced. There is less sacrifice in being single - but, it certainly (to me anyways) doesn't outweigh being in a relationship. I've always been kind of a rebel - sometimes I do things I regret - but happy to say, for the most part I could care less of people's expectations of me/my behavior (family excluded).

2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.

You? I bitch/moan, but I love working. My job is very seasonal, and in the summer I never get both days of the weekend off. I do regret that, but, the corner to retirement is ahead - and I dream of mowing grass on a golf course in exchange for allowing me to shoot my normal 107 (for free). I saw something once that said "Have work at fun", and that's a model I try to remember/live by. I write all this crap about me, but, it's for anyone - these questions. The article maybe teaches us to wake up before we go to sleep.

3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.

B- here. I've heard of families that never utter the "L word". I find that sad. The older I get, the easier this (expressing my feelings) is to me. Expressing feelings is like making footprints in the sand of life. How boring if the sand were perfect after we walk on it. Sometimes I get myself in trouble here - but I really mouth off (or back at) whenever I observe holier-than-thou behavior. I wake up in the morning, look at Facebook and think "Oh man, did I really write that?" - yes, is the answer, perhaps I should be embarrassed - but better thought a fool I guess than someone thinking "all that's up there is cobwebs."

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

C- here. Longtime townie friends, yes.. past coworkers, college chums, sometimes even family - could very much do better. You?

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

I'm an A- on the outside, and perhaps a C-, D+ on the inside. I, like many I'm sure, beat myself up a bit. Thankfully, aging helps reverse this process. So, if you're a pup, reading this - relax. Like yourself. You are the most important person in your life.

I've not thought a lot about death. You? Oh, I've considered getting a size 10 type tattoo "somewhere down there" that says "morticians suck" - eh, why not go down makin' 'em laugh? Cremation, ashes scattered about at the City Park in Liberty.

I do look at my grandchildren and try to predict how long I'll get to see them. Helps (me anyways) keep things in perspective. Living is like whittling, kinda. We certainly have those "oh shit" moments we can never take back - but then again, hopefully along the way we've created something others will like.

Do you ever stop along the path and consider these five things? Do you literally act upon them? Kudos to you if so. They're pretty deep, but life is as well.

Our high school graduating class recently lost three fine people in a month - and it does make one stop and think. Reading the 5 things above - is kinda like a 401K. "Man, I wished I woulda started all that at age 20" - but - starting at any age is a very good thing.

What/who are you gonna be before you die?

Love, Victurd