Scorecard.......

Sorry, you're stuck.

I LOVE (SPORTS) ROCK AND ROLL PUT ANOTHER DIME IN THE JUKE BOX BABY.

We all gots different affinities.  Buddy in CO, he likes rocks.  Lady in WA like flowers.  SoCal good friend, he's an app-nerd, said lovingly.  Friend here locally loves quite a few brands of cars, deals 'em, an affinity for 'em, but, he don't sell no Infiniti, I don't think.  One likes looking at life from both/either side of the Rio Grande. Another buddy's Buddy likes sticks.  A Corgi dog? No, but, that's anudder friends niche. And yet anudder, it's all about Green Acres is the place to be. We be diverse in our likes.

It's a boat-floating thing, as in, whatever, individually, helps you cruise through the toppa the water - starting as a snotnose....., thru the acme era..... on, thru, during the commute of being the commute age... and on through the wrinkly, raisin, Beetlejuice era...  Beetlejuice?  Uh huh, "Somebody help me" enroute to the urn, plot, wharever yur headed.

An INTEREST to divest our time in.

Mine, at least a big one, is Sports.  Scoff you might, and it's OK, I get it.  How boring is going online to ESPN, or, tuning into a National Sport's Show, suffering through the fingernail scratching on the blackboard of ten minutes of NEW YORK or LOS ANGELES crap before they finally get to the score of the team in our little bitty City.

Still awake?  I know, boring.  Anyways, yes, I do care about scores - BUT, and YES, life, no matter your niche, like, affinity, Infiniti, yada - it ain't all about who wins, the mundane crap that hitchhikes daily with our niche.  Spit it out Victor, whaddaya mean?

I thought you'd never ask.

For example.  One of the articles today was about the New Pope.  HUH?  The Sport's page?  Yup.  Unless you've been on a deserted island (and I never said Alcatraz), you gotta be aware our new Pope is from the good ole USA - Illinois, Chicago - to be specific.  Of course they're already digging to see if he's a Cub's fan or a White Sox fan.   ABC News reported....... drum roll......................................

Cub fan!  Twitter, or X, whatever, Instagram, Facebook, all that crap, went berserk. My favorite post was "I bet he hated being a cardinal"  (if you don't know the history, the Cubs hate the Cardinals, the Cardinals hate the Cubs, I thought that was perty damn clever.)  Of course divine intervention - FanDuel, DraftKings, yada, stirred betting on Super Bowls, NBA Championships, Stanley Cups for "Da Bears", The Bulls and The Blackhawks.

Then, the Pope's brother, yeah, they found him...... said "Ain't so, he's a White Sox fan..... as, the family was split between being Cardinal or Cubs fans."  Eh, when in Rome I guess......  Move on Victor, what else?

Well....... of course I devoured the article on the Royals win (they are red hot btw) then, there was an article of Jason Kelce playing in a Pro-Am Charity golf tourney in Philly - and he scouted out Irish golfer Shane Lowry because he'd seen a Halloween picture of Lowry and his family, trick-or-treating - Shane was wearing 'full Travis Kelce #87 helmet, pads, uni... whilst his little girl , mebbe 7, was dressed as a spittin' image of Taylor Swift.  "So my daughter is obsessed with Taylor" - and of course Jason, Travis's brother replied "Who's not?" That's it. I thought fun.

See?  Sports ain't all about 7-4....... 22-3....  This big contract...... that prima donna... hold outs.. NIL.. transfers...   Life interjects occasionally in Sports too!

That's only two Victor.. gimme something else......... Ahm, OK.  Paul Pierce, he of NBA fame (15 years with the Boston Celtics) and present broadcaster of a heap big sports show in LA.  His Celtics - last years NBA Champs....  were upset in game 1 of the playoffs this year by the NY Knicks...so, Paul told his co-host, "If the Celtics lose game 2 tonight, I'm walking here (15 miles) tomorrow, in my robe, no shoes on... put the house on this game!"    Well... you know.

Knicks won....... Paul walked..... (he did wear shoes though)...  reported his progress every hour... folks, co-host brought him water... "Welcome to this journey...here I go.. Man this is really wild.. I can't believe this.. Celtics got me out here like this, dog."  Ouch.  8 hours.  Made it.

This-n-that:

KU has a very talented baseball player from Down Under... lived, played there.. then, moved to Japan to be with mom, sister, lived, played there.... then to a Texas JUCO, finally, to KU.  That's alotta moving, languages.  At one point, he recalled the teacher giving him a test, and all he could do was write his name atop.... he couldn't read one word of the language.  Kudos to the dude for making it, gittin' her done, and, doing VERY well now.

"Yacht Rock."  HUH?  Yeah.. quick article on the new music being played in the Royal's locker room after games.. .previously, twas loud, blasting, (not a fan) of songs that tweren't PG-13.  Welcome:  Brandy, youre a fine girl..... Earth, Wind and Fire's The Way You Move..  Anudder player, interviewed holding his 15 month old daughter whilst War's Low Rider played in the background...  a bit of Hall and Oates.

Royals 10, White Sox 0... but that crap is boring, gimme the 'tween, life, yum, yeah baby, odds and ins of it all.  I LOVE (SPORTS) ROCK AND ROLL PUT ANOTHER DIME IN THE JUKE BOX BABY.

Happy Niche'ing to you.

Love, Victurd

19 years, 4 months, 11 days ago....... My first blog. Someone shoulda said, "Victor, don't do that."

Today, May 7, 2025... is blog #2,513.  The first was September 29, 2005.  With tongue (you pick) somewhat in cheek, squarely in cheek, swab his cheeks - he's gotta be nuts (haha) a buddy named David told me one time "Vic, I went back and read each and every one." SUSIE!  Good gosh gerty, SPICE THAT MAN'S LIFE UP!  (But TY David, it was impressive of you!)

I have no idea how people read it back then.  Facebook began in 2004 , penned by a group of Harvard students.  Harvard, hmmm, rings a bell.  MySpace did start in 2003 but I have no idea if I posted it there. Cobwebs, we all get 'em.  Get in the way when walking around in earlier life.

No idea why I'm sharing this today, which, generally fits this, these blogs - no idea on why.

Why do I write?  I like to.  I get bored.  Admittedly, have gotten down, writing (to me anyways) is like taking a hoe, spade, turning cruddy soil over, giving it new, more vibrant life.  (Trying to anyways.)

The road of life has potholes.  So Victor, ahm, are you thinking Pulitzer Prize for that sentence or something, that why you shared?  Ahm, no.  I simply mean there is negative, much, in every day - thus, I try to write, include a minimum of one happy snippet. As Barney would say, "NIP IT, NIP IT, NIP IT", ok, ok, I'll try a positive snippet.

The first blog is below.  Like most, it's pretty mundane, which, I consider as wonderful fodder should you have insomnia, you'll be back asleep in no time.  It was Fall, and entitled 'fall....

No idea whyinthehell I didn't capitalize it.

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

September 29, 2005

fall,,.

Ain't it wonderful? After months and months of coming in from outside to stand in the way of the fan - or, to catch a snippet of AC... it's a tremendous feeling to "want" a jacket.

Life's cycle continues... Clockwork... Why is it, as our eyes age and become weaker we simultaneously become more attuned and appreciative of such changes? Ya think it's because we know that day where we won't be able to do all that is beckoning? Eh, I dunno.

It's probably only because we know winter is not far behind and we better suckup the good days whilst we can. I always wanted Florida. Something about a decorated palm tree just doesn't ring true for Christmas though.. Two piece binkini's in the Piggly Wiggly - yes... Illuminated coconuts - no. Give and take huh?

So, I'm gonna let them eyeballs feast on the changing of the trees... The football lights in the distance... Finding the jacket from last year and seeing if it still grades out on today's style... Folding and putting away shorts to a place I'll remember come May... wondering if my 36" waist will still fit in them the next time. Wouldn't it be great to HAVE to buy new 34" ones next year? Yeah, right.

Daylight Savings coming to an end. Shit. Dark is depressing. Unless of course there are two to share dark. Mebbe that's why so many babies are conceived during this time.. Kinda bassackwards to athletics. When you're young, you smooch and bear the fruit of a snotnose. IE, you practice, then you have the real game. When you're older, you push 'the real game' out of the nest, then you practice! Hooray for practice. Why does 98.6 + 98.6 feel warmer?

Work beckons. Shit. Nah, I actually love work. Been the constant in my life for the last few years. Now, adding ingredients to that recipe of life. Even though I can't cook worth a crap - I'm enjoying the meal!

Have fun with your life cycle. Stick your tongue out at the little things and gasp and record the wonderful things. Save room for dessert too. Happy day.

Heck, I dunno......

It's almost 10am.  Victor, who askedya?

Yeah, I know.  Just pointing out..... time flies.  Looking back, fitty-plus years of working, commuting, family raising, trips to/fro Piggly, Wally, Doctor, Little league games, Back to School stuff, family goodies, weddings, celebrations, part-time 2nd jobs, mowing, weed eating, chasing, trying to clear up cloudy water in the pool, cooking, cleaning (VICTOR quit crying, SHE did all'a that.) Eh, OK, mosta it, but, shake and bake, I did help......... anyways, it really never seemed busy.

Retirement set in..... folks, folks already retired, would tellya, "I know it sounds crazy, but, time will fly... you'll find asking yourself 'where did all the hours in the day go'?"  And it's twue, it's reawwy twue.

I awakened at 12:25am, did Wordle, back to zzzzzzzzz.  I woke at 1:37am...... pppppppp, back to zzzzzzzz.  I awoke at 2:40am, counted on my fingers, 1,2,3,4,5,6 hours sleep - "lay back down stupid."  Did.  HOLY CRAP, it's 6:23am, as in, damn near TEN hours sleep - ain't done that since........ well...... maybe since one'a the Bush's was in office.

Coffee... the Daily Sudoku (Mondays are cinchy)...  Breezed thru local E-paper, the good stuff, no fingernail on the chalkboard, huh uh.

Exit, stage left to the blog.  I dunno. 7-something am. And here I sit on my fat hiney, just now starting it.  This retirement, blogging, is rough stuff, but somebody's gotta do it.  WHO SAID SO VICTOR?  Bite me.

I've got 23 'windows' open, 'lace' was an idea... lace for ballgloves, families, buddies, Facebook, the 'fence' that binds us together.   Then I thought about 'handle'.  Fly off the handle.. Too hot to handle..  Handle with care...  Kid gloves...  Get a handle on it..  Then, as a kinda-sorta cripple, I thought about the last time I pooped at Wally (sorry, kinda, not really) and how, I hadta use a stall without handles to assist in getting up and getting down because there was a 20-something able bodied person in the Handicap stall (please don't do do that) and so I had a BM (Bad Mood, you pervert).. and decided, nah, lace blog bad idea, and so is handle.

I thought about TEAR, which, can be pronounced like "TARE" which sounds too luch like Tar-iff, Nahhhhh..  or Tear, pronounced like Ear with a T in front.

Tears, are, can be, yummy.  Yes, we all have the other kind, even those old codgers my age who profess "Nah, I don't, won't show my emotions like that."  I call BS.  I never saw my dad cry until he got Parkinsons, then he did finally, age late 70-something.  Point being, 'twas in there all along, so you there blogreader, no try to fool me

HOMESTEAD RESCUE.

Huh?  Yeah, it's a TV show.  Victor?  Tea/China?  I dunno, find the amount, multiply it by 145% or something like that.

Tears. It has to do about tears.  Homestead Rescue is a Discovery TV show where an actual Homesteader himself (and his son/daughter) go help other Homesteaders in need. They do amazing things.  Clear land, build new roads, help with a well, or a paddlewheel pump kinda thing from a nearby stream to bring water to the house.. fences for critters, chicken houses for chickens...solutions for "Help.. we dunno what to do."

There was a show 3 years ago.  A retired Firefighter and his wife.  He'd fallen, had pins in his back, basically physical labor was a no no and impossible for him.  NW Montana.  Their home was 5 miles from a raging forest fire.  WHAT NOW?  Hundreds of trees TOO CLOSE made their home an easy mark for the fire.  WHAT NOW?  They again asked.  Marty (the Homesteader who travels to help other homesteaders, said , "Turn around".  Retired firefighter did, and there were....... holding 17 chainsaws, 17 former firefighter coworkers.That's where the tears, hugs, come in. In 7 days, they cleared land around the house..  had enough firewood for a few years of producing heat for Winter.. built a henhouse, storage for hay for the goats, and........ a secluded, ground floor handicap accessible 'indoor' deer stand on the sidea the hill for the retired dude.  The firefighter and his wife, old farts like you me, had a niece who lived with them, and her young legs, good heart saved their bacon for the next few years.

Now....... forward 3 years...   the niece has moved on to start her own homestead... they were outta firewood...  it's a REAL chore for wifey to take a bale of hay 200 yards to their family of goats.  And, water.  No, water. Hot or cold.

Soooooooooooooooo.  Firefighters come back?  Nah, but, friends, families, neighbors did.  Chainsaws in hand.  A kajillion logs split, stacked, home heat for s'more years, a storage bin for the hay, MUCH closer to the goats, with an enclosed walkway to/fro the goats.  And, a plumber dude figured out the water problem...  fixed...  AND...  another plumber donated, put in a water heater.... they'd never had hot water and had been without water (except for what they hauled) for EIGHT years.

All, fixed.  S'more tears.  Before Marty and kiddos headed back to their own homestead, the ole fireman took em back down to the enclosed deer stand.  "This is my therapy. This is where I get away when I need to, like if PTSD sets in.  If a memory stirs like of the time I had to tell a mom after a fire her 13 year old wasn't coming back....  I come here.  Of all the wonderful things you've done for us, this has been the most valuable to me.  I thank you from the bottom of my heart."  Quite certain a warm shower was on tap for the guy after Marty left. It'd been 8 years.

S'more tears.  It's now 10:51am, whereinthehell does time go?

All good, especially when preceeded with Happy Tears.

Happy tears to you............  love, Victurd

Happy tears, what better!

And the Favorite is.........

Well.... like em all, but, I'd have to say Summer.....

Day of the week?  Well, what's the one where ya ain't gotta get up and go to work, and.. you go to bed that night knowing ya ain't gotta set an alarm to get up and go into work. Oh yeah, Saturday.

Butter pecan.......  Chili cheese Fritos (provided there's plenyta paper towels around.)....   In KC, Joe's BBQ, but, here, we be proud of all of em... just jump in the car, roll the winder down, stick ur nose out... they're all over... drive till ya smell the yum, pull in.  Feast.  They're all good.

Female. For all of you that call me a misogynist, THERE, of the two species, THAT's my fav.. yup.. don't fear admitting... so.... GTH (that's Go To Here for future reference)

$20 bills.  Rare to have a hunnerd, but when I do, they look at me funny when I hand to them.  Then, they deface it with some kinda marker.  My piddly weekly paycheck, "Hi Claudia (the teller), just cashing, and $20's please."

Blue.   Green.  Brown.  Grey.  Black.  (My favorite color'a eyes. Yours?

Shorts.

Tennis shoes.  Haven't played tennis since Bobby Riggs and Billie Jean King, but, I no likey dress shoes, boots..... sandals usedta be my fav, but, since forced to wear these compression socks so my brain doesn't fall out, gimme tenny boppers.

Dogs.  DON'T GET ME WRONG, I LOVE CATS.  But, favorite entails ONE. Love both (with heap big thank you to ex for introduction to cats) but Dog is fav.

Royals, Chiefs, MU, William Jewell, Liberty High School.

Manager style/type.  Hmmmm.  Ya gots Autocratic (huh uh, sorry, take that job and shove it).. Democratic (eh, not bad)... but, fav is Laisez-faire

Beer:  other people's.   Modelo Negra a close second.

Car:  US made.  Won't specify as two of my best friends are dueling UAW fellers.

Victor?  Why are you doing this?  Nobody asked you?

My favorite blogs are the ones where I write about whateverinthehell I wanna write about. And so is your old man!

Of the three......... Youth...... Middle Age...    Old Age.......    Youth #1 (It's always furn to watch littles experience, react to, life, the first time.)  Old Age #2  (A love for anything including rodeos, but, accompanied by the knowledge this ain't your first one.)   Middle age #3.  Nuttin agin' it, I just think Middle age is the most self centered of the three.

Decade:  the 70's.  We could still run.  "We've only just begun" (the quest, march toward Social Security, it didn't seem uphill yet) Responsibilities growing one by one, but, oh baby what fun we had.  When one is 20-something, one thinks "I'll always be 20-something" and, I guess in some respects, we still are.

Blackjack - casino.

Comedy - at the movies

TV:  Much on Discovery Channel...  Local News..  Live sports I care about. An occasional Andy Griffith or Carol Burnett so I can be entertained by yesterday, Barney and Tim Conway.

Christmas (then Thanksgiving).. First Birthdays.  Any organized sport for a 4 or 5 year old.  Observing kindness 'tween strangers.  Observing love gestures of older couples.

Most music.  Whatever taps my foot.  Ray Charles.  The Stones.  Fleetwood.  Clapton.  Neil Young.  Any kinda woman that belts it out with passion (Joan Jett... Chrissie Hynde.. Patsy.. Janis... Aretha..  Gaynor.  YUM to all.)

I DO like crap like this on Facebook where folks are asked stuff like this, folks seldom complete the task, but, the ones that do, I enjoy reading, comparing.

I'd be ok if I went to my urn without ever again seeing hockey, speeders, cars too dayum close in my rear view mirror, abuse of any kind, anyone who is fulla themself, spiders, snakes, raccoons, Bizbag clothes, popups, door to door solicitors, bullies, hearing "Like I said", Methodists (I'M JUST KIDDING, SEEING IF YOU WERE AWAKE!)....... people who fall asleep reading stupid blogs...

Today happens to be onea my favorite days of the year.  A super nice couple invites many to their home, outdoor tent, tables, chairs, bigscreens, ALL food, drink provided. Folks dress the dress.  Littles run amok.  Oldsters struggle up/down the grassy hills, but, with smile as they too enjoy the Annual Kentucky Derby Party.

Journalism is the Favored horse today.

I don't have a Broker because I'm broker.  But, if it were EF Hutton, or, my granny, they might advise "Fold your money in half to double it."

May the 4th be with you tomorrow,

Love, Victurd

Annual checkup........

MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY!

Ahm, Victor?  It's May 2nd...

Damnit, sorry.

Nonetheless........ how are ya?  No, REALLY, how.are.you?

Happy?  Sad?  Fulla vim/vigor?  Tired?  Old?  Achy?  Excited about much? Same ole same ole mebbe now a good thing? Tired of FOX/CNN battle, prattle?  

Yeah, me too.  Alla the above.

The other day I felt El Crappy.  Sicky.  I ain't married.  I don't have a sibling or a parent to call.  I DO NOT feel sorry for myself. In fact, I kinda giggled when I thought, "Whointhehell should I call........ if anyone... and, whointhehell would care anyways?"

Sudafed taken (No WallyWorld, here's my license, I won't be making Meth), Alka Seltzer (Generic brand) two aspirin...... Much better....... and then I thought...... I DO know who I'd call.  I DO know who would care.  As I peek out at who might possibly be so kind to swing by here to read, I see most of you are coupled.  Cool.  "You and me and rain on the roof, caught up in a Summer shower"....... Lie down here honey, lemme put this cool washrag on your forehead... relax... time for a backrub.

You lucky. I lucky.  Folks that care.  We have em.  We've got spirit (and folks that care) we've got spirit (and folks that care) how bout you?

I know there's gotta be folks that don't have that...  and to me, that's tremendously sad. This blog ain't going the direction I'd intended, but, ain't that kinda life-like?  It can be a bitch (sorry to cuss, but, really not really) once them training wheels come off.

Salvy.  As in, Salvador Perez, the Kansas City Royal's Captain, and All Star Catcher.

Victor?   Yep?  That's me!  What?   I'm tired (truly) of tariff talk, but whatinthehell does Salvy have to do with the Price of Tea in China, ie, the juxt'a this dayum blog?

Lots.

Salvy, with Kansas City Royal's photographer Jason Hanna tugging on his sleeve, consented to take an offseason, 11 day trip to Kenya.

If you perhaps live in Colorado, San Diego, Illinois, Oklahoma, Vivion Road, Puerto Penasco Mehico, Spokane, WA or wherever, and you might need a birdseye on whointhehell Salvy is - well, first, he's one helluva baseball player.  Secondly, he's of Venezuelan descent. If you are from one'a them towns, States, Countries above, then you prolly ain't never hearda Helzberg Diamonds either.  Huh? TBC...

Huh?  Yeah, Helzberg.  A Kansas City based jewelry chain with stores in 36 States that ran the infamous "I AM LOVED" ad campaign for lucky folks on the receiving enda one'a their products. With every diamond, ruby, gold chain, yada sold, they too would get a red 'button' thingy, with  I AM LOVED to affix to their top.

In Kansas City.... Venezuela... mebbe from idle Spanish chit-chat between he, sometimes KC first baseman, and Latin opponent who'd just hit a single - you can distinguish........ SMILE abounds.  Umpires.  Teammates. Opponents.  Little kids in a North Kansas City neighborhood that Salvy happened to be driving by one day after 'work', stopped, joined them in a game of wiffle ball.. clubhouse attendants.. cops that sit share, monitor the dugout - PEOPLE ... LOVE... SALVY..here Salvy, put this I AM LOVED button on your chest protector... conversely, SALVY... LOVES.. PEOPLE.. (And life, and baseball... and...  "How are you my friend?")

Even little kids in Kenya love Salvy and they don't speak either of the same languages Salvy speaks, have no idea what baseball is.. how bigga star he is.. for that matter, they don't even know what a star is....... it's his smile, infectious humor, gentle touch, care, concern for mankind that makes Salvy Salvy. Salvy puts his heart, money and time where his mouth is - as last year he won the prestigious Roberto Clemente Award 'awarded annually to the player whose humanitarian efforts exemplify off-the-field service.

So.......... Salvy and the Royal's photo guy..... took a kajillion pics of........ leopards.. over 3,000 Elephants... roaming.. free..    spiders the size of a catcher's mitt...   Hippos ("No te acerques demasiado amigo", don't get too close my friend)... the lion.. "The most beautiful beast of all" per Salv'.)

Back to the little kids.  The newspaper this morning had a pic of Salvy with a group of little kiddos... they were staring into the huge lense of one of the cameras, and it came to Salvy that it was probably the very first time the kids had been able to see themselves...  no mirrors..  "Huyo ni mimi?" ("That's me?" in Swahili).. 

My mom, a child born just before The Depression, used to say "Po, but didn't know it."  Same for the Kenya kids.  Happy they were, in spite of....... living in villages of roughly 60-70 people...  'homes' constructed of mud and dung..  little bitty openings, 'windows' for light, but, again, small, so as to keep all of the above animals out.

Running water?  Hardly.  Most days, kids, families shared as the animals bathed in the waters... 

Salvy said the trip was an eye opener.  He thought about growing up in Valencia, Venezuela.. dirt floors.. crime infested neighborhoods....  and he compared it to life for these kids.....

"They're just blessed to live every day, to wake up in the morning when nothing happened to them... they don't know if they're going to have food the next day... and they live so happy every day, dancing.....it's unbelievable."

And........ let's see........ Victor?  Wasn't it you that was worried about, thinking about, who cared, who ya gonna call Ghostbuster because you had a bad cold? 

Guilty your Honor.

Bailiff, whack his peepee.

Much of the above stolen from a wonderful article in today's Star by Vahe Gregorian, KC Star Sport's writer.

Love, Victurd

Pac-Man.......

He got game.....

I love sports...... people...... hounds...  life....... laughter.... hugs... niceness...  Rock and Roll, put another dime in the juke box baby.......

(Quick juke box story....  I gotta good buddy that loves any, every - thing, about music.  Over the years, he's provided hunnerds of juke box hours for us buddies... he introduces us to 'new, good, stuff'... stuff from long ago that we'd maybe hurdled over... all.  Like life nowadays, modern juke boxes have the I WANT WHAT I WANT AND I WANT IT NOW MODE.  That is, you pay an extra nickel, or, dime, quarter - probably dollar+, and you can..... from your chair with phone in hand, pay/play where your song is NEXT UP, no matter how many songs have already been punched in, paid for.  Oft times, he does it simply because he can't stand the music that so-and-so enjoys - so he purposely does this to get his goat.  I love goats too.)

As I logged in at way too damn early to read the E-Edition of the local paper - sometimes available as early as 3am, usually by 4, always by 5am... I was happy - thought of PAC-MAN.

I suppose life moods can be, are, effected by - depression.  To that though, I suggest - is there anything wrong with wanting, thirsting for happy, fun, good?  Heck to the no there ain't nuttin' wrong with it.  I reckon if that's depression - so be it.

I'm a weirdo, but you knew that.  Sitting to read the E Paper - was, to me, like a fine diner would be as he/she sat, approached a 5 course meal, accompanied by the 'Kool-Aid Kool-Aid, can't wait" hunger - and, the knowledge of which damn utensil to use, when. (Me?  I've grown accustomed to your face - McDonalds lady)..  paper sacks..  MY fine dining.

Anyways... I was excited.  Thirsty.  Alive.. Wanting.  I saw Pac-Man... The little circle guy (or gal) munching down, collecting, charging at, through, dots.  Dots of life.

We all know, death is one day approaching.  We dunno the GPS of it.. Where we'll be, what we'll be wearing if anything (that's skeery ain't it!).. what town, street, highway, what physical, mental condition we'll be in.  Pac-Man gets unplugged occasionally.

In. The. Meantime.  MUNCH baby!

Little things excite me.  (Big too, but little as well).. Miniature Schnauzers I have an affinity for...  Dauchunds..  Toddlers (Is there ANYTHING in this life BETTER than two uplifted arms of a 2 or 3 year old grandkiddo? I think not!)... short buddies who self depricate that.. Petite women (go ahead, shoot me.. please note, I did say "Big too"!)... 

As I remembered my password for the paper, loggged in - the little things I was thirsty for.... different for me than you, she than he, that one over there likes, lives for this - he, up there, enjoys, is perked by - that.  Baseball results. We lost, but, won five out of the last six.. that excites me.  I have my favorite players - for you, it could be watching General Hospital, The Young and the Restless - and your favotire characters there.  Heck you could thirst, Pac-Man for 24 hours a day of the Food Channel, I dunno.  Whatever floats your boat, up to and including hunting and fishing, I dunno.

Next.  The guys our local professional football team just drafted.  Yours might be a 2,000 piece jigsaw puzzle... There IS similarity.  How they all fit.  What are their shapes, sizes, flamboyance or not, smile.. are they type A's...  quiet dudes.. . knocking on the oak table I sit at, our General Manager, scouting staff, seemingly have a wonderful handle on bringing good people to our team.  Of course, good at football, but, good at life too. Yum, party on Pac-Man. Eat them dots.

And,whilst munching the dots reading the paper - much like life in general, we can sidestep, avoid, hop over crap we either don't like, or, got zero interest in.  Some'a those for me, usually most articles of local 'interest' (it's usually guns, crashes, court argues, yada...  ) I ain't real hep on the Food Section (hey, I do have a new Foreman grill and an Air Fryer - never hadme onea them)..  I ain't into hockey.. tennis.. you go though, munch them dots if that's you...

Mosta the time, "US and World News" meh...... comics, I read one or two.. ALWAYS Sudoku (along with occasional depression for many, comes, addiction, I am addicted to Sudoku. Could be worse eh?)

I won't bore you any further..  The main thing, thirst for life.  Eatin, can't wait for, them dots.  Go you chicken fat go...... No, wait, that ain't it. Go Pac-Man.  Chomp.  Chomp chomp chomp.

Pac-Man, for me at least, brings back good memories from 'the day and age'.  I saw it came on the scene in 1980.  I was not particularly a Pac-Man addict, but I loved the jist of the game, the love of the love others had for the game.  The Sound, yeah, I even enjoyed that.  It was a much more appeasing, pleasing precedent than the 1985 introduced AOL and their horrific connection, fingernail on chalkboard sounds.

Besides, in 1980, I at least more closely resembled the first letter of my name (V)... Now, ha, it's (O) baby...  as in Big O tires... Scroll to addiction, cookies, Fritos, carboholic, ain't-got-time, microwave me a up a quick processed food item.

Life is all about Pac-Man, thirst, quest for yum, s'more.  SMILE.  Some folks, seeing them walk in, YEAH BABY, here's my BIG OLE SMILE I'm so glad to seeya, know ya... whilst other, perhaps, ya smile as they walk on out the door. VICTOR!  Hey, don't gimme that crap - I KNOW sometimes you feel the same way!

I'm going for more dots (coffee) now... Please have lotsa dots (smiles, hugs, texts, compliments, fist bumps, good times)..  Pet a dot (hound).. stroke a dot (Kitty)..  

Life still excites.  Sure, down happens.  One of my alltime favs from back in the day was Joe Namath.  He was (bold, cocky, but - good) and he usedta say "I can't wait for tomorrow because I get better looking each day."  Along with Pac-Man comes realism. Joe, I love ya, but, I've seen you recently in somea them Medicare Plan adverts... it looks like maybe a lotta them nights you never went to bed at all.  Eh, mebbe he was just playing Pac-Man, I dunno.

Sometimes the 'ghosts' win out, chomp on Pac-Man. Me, I plan to attempt to be very attentive, avoid that, munch as much as I can in the days, weeks, months, hopefully years ahead.  I like dots. And life.

And you.

Love, Victurd

Age is just a number.

Relax.... I ain't gonna tellya to get outta the recliner, plank for three minutes, jog a mile, then finish it off with fitty pushups.  Nope.  Just a bird's eye on age.

A few years back.  Was with a girlfriend - early morn, the birthday of her granddaughter - we'd driven across town to awaken her, wish her Happy Birthday.  Walked into the room.. dark.. light peeked in from the curtains..  "Kendall, wake up, it's your Birthday!  You're FOUR!"  Big ole' smile came on, eyes, they's huge too... "Does that mean I can read?"

We go thru life setting 'alarms' for specific ages...  Being age 5 by August - denotes you're AOK to go to Kiddygarden.  Somewheres 'tween  5 and 10 it's 'sign me up' to be a Brownie or Cub Scout.

Of course - teenager.  Yippee, FITTEEN, hand me the FOB Pops!  16, the real thing, not a permit, go, drive, by one's lonesome.  I remember one redheaded frecklefaced dude that turned 16 his Junior year (he musta been a heller, they sent him to kiddygarden, age 4).. anyways, he got his DL ON the day of Prom.  Father said "Don't leave Liberty" (our fine little town.)  Later that night I, er, I mean he, straddled a huge median on the Plaza (South of downtown Kansas City.. Liberty is North of KC).. oops.

18, vote, serve.  21, get served.

After that, there's kind of a void on, "Hey, what age, goal, next?"

I suppose early adulthood, 18 to mid-30's, we start out po'.... get a little dough... add numbers to the household (wifey, hubby, kiddo(s).. and soon, back to po'.

Mid-life - 'around 40's to 50's' - AI (sorry Google, Wiki, ya done been replaced by AI, they're faster).. "This stage is characterized by a decline in certain cognitive functions, including memory and processing speed, but also a time of transition and reflection." Well holy crap, that ain't fun?

Oh, age fitty, AARP (offer to join) comes in the mail. Used mine for kindling in our 

outdoor firepit.

Fitty five to Sixty five - we commute (or, Spotify from our home job) with Johnny 

Paycheck and his  "Take This Job And Shove It"...

But, most of us are forcibly glued to our office desk until Age 65 when Medicare kicks in. 

Too late for "Imagine me and you, I do, I think about you day 

and night, it's only right"... no that ain't it... but, it's too late for most of us raisins, 

BUT, "we gotta get outta

this place if it's the last thing we ever do" and find affordable healthcare nationwide.  

I admittedly suck

at long range planning - think most are in my boat - and thus, HAVE to work until 65.

'

OK, end of blog.  All the important ages have been addressed. WAIT JUSTA GOL 

'DURN MINUTE. I'M STILL HERE!..ME TOO!  Yeah, I as well.

OK OK, yes, 4 to 5% of folks live to be a hunnerd. (For every action, there is an equal 

and opposite reaction)That is, when the inhale to blow out a hunnerd candles takes place, Newton's 3rd Law 

tells us the Depends are getting soiled, kinda like a 'recoil' from a shotgun.  Victor, that's disgusting.  Eh, 

whatever. Does your Fixodent lose it's flavor on the bedpost overnight.

This blog today happened because I truthfully wondered, now what?  Now what am 

I supposed to do? At this age?  AI tells me, most old farts:

Read, have hobbies, garden, family stuff, exercising like walking swimming, volunteering, 

social groups, clubs, travel, dance, sports, tasks, relax. Not a word about NAP. I guess I'm abnormal.

Games... chess, scrabble, bingo, solitaire, sudoku, puzzles, Mahjong, yada.

AI, undoubtedly developed, created, programmed by wet-behind-ear types, urge us old'ns to get out there

and learn new tricks, art class, play an instrument, yada.  AI (frequently) messages me on Facebook with 

suggestions, explanations, yada.  I immediately type the endearing old person "Oh thank you so much for

your suggestion Sonny, much appreciated!"

Victor, I call BS. You're correct.  I always type back "SCRAM" and they say "BYE" faster'n Mashall Dillon

could draw his gun outta his holster.

To me, the Golden Age affords one the opportunity to recognize there are no have to's. We, or, the ones

in school a few years older - are the ones that questioned everything with "Why?" so why stop now, ya know?

There too are well meaning friends that enjoy 'fixing', or, at least attempting to fix (control?).. I once

read, when this, these, well meaning friends put forth an agenda, a game plan, whaddever, you should

'look them in the eye, then take your shoe off. Drives 'em batty, they lose their train of thought and it's 

a way of saying (without saying) "concentrate on ya' own damnself."

Victor, that's not very nice. Well, I once heard an ex say (I ain't saying which one, heck, mighta been 

both, I dunno) "You're not as nice as people think you are."  Hehe.  My point, it's a glorious age this

run to the the squatter to beat the pee there... Arrgggggh like a Pirate as our joints talk to us getting 

outta bed.. Go the speed limit.. Pisses 'em off.  It's a fun age. In fact, I have just the right pinstriped shirt 

picked out to wear to the Piggly Wiggly with these checkered shorts., where I will take the motorized cart,

challenge similar fat, old farts in motorized carts "Wanna race?"... then fetch my groceries to the counter,

spend a minute or seven picking out six different scratch off tickets.

THIS AGE.

I've waited all my life for this age and never knew it.

Give em hell.  Harry did, no reason why we can't too.

Love, Victurd

*Blogger note.  I played hell trying to fix the margins on this. I think it's AI getting back at me.

Anyways, I thought there was a touch of irony, cause ain't the age we are right now the age of

hating being forced by margins? Rules, do this, don't do that.  You'll shoot your transplanted 

intraocular lens out?