Willie go 'round in circles.......

I was today old when I learned this 1972 song by Billy Preston was actually "Will it go 'round in circles?"  Are you beginning to 'get' my ADHD C+/M+ path of life?

I've got a song, I ain't got no melody
I'ma gonna sing it to my friends
I've got a song, I ain't got no melody
I'ma gonna sing it to my friends.

Doesn't really seem to make a lot of sense, but, then again, neither does a dog chasing his or her tail, running laps, or, Nascar (just turn left, and... forgive me Dale.)

Will it go 'round in circles?
Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky?
Will it go 'round in circles?
Will it fly high like a bird up in the sky?

This, reminded me of someone considering "Should I take a chance or not?  What if I fail?"  Oh yeah baby, but what if you soar?

I've got a story, ain't got no moral
Let the bad guy win every once in a while
I've got a story, ain't got no moral
Let the bad guy win every once in a while

I was today old when I learned the word for someone who gain's pleasure out of another's misfortune is schadenfreude.

Victor, you and Willie kinda goin' round in circles here.  Uh huh.  The very dim lightbulb that went off behind the juxt of this blog is/was....  what excites people?  We all have those moments (or days, weeks, months, perhaps years) where we simply go round in circles - not a whole lot phases us in either direction.......

But too, we get excited.  WHY?  Because'a what?  Obviously, we're different creatures, no, one size/idea fits all.

AI (The EF Hutton of present day) tells us kids get excited by social connections (relationships with friends, family, romantic interest), personal interest (music, movies, gaming, sports, hobbies), future possibilities (careers, travel, personal growth.)  I was thinking more along the lines of scout camp, wiffle ball, the last day of school, ice cream, yada.

S'more AI on young adults "career and education, hobbies and skills, personal development."  I never really amounted to much, because I got excited about things like "The FLAG IS UP AT REPPERTS!  GRAB YOUR SWIMSUIT!"... Kegger at the River..  Baseball Ray... Nights at the Drive In.

AI, on middle agers, Personal Growth and New Experiences, Travel, Embracing new technology, Social connections and meaningful relationships.  Eh, sure. I enjoyed virtually any, every sport with my kid in this era, and, of course enjoyed with my spouse as well.

AI drum roll on Seniors:  Gardening (Oh hell yea, jump in Mable, we're goin' to the Grass Pad! I jest, but only because I've never grown a green thumb, that said, I LOVE the gifts others plant for us), Exercise, (ahm, OK), Creative arts (yeah, mebbe), Reading (zzzzzzzzzzz), Dancing (now you're talking, but, I can't dance).... Family and friends (FER SURE).

WHAT EXCITES YOU?   It's REALLY boring to hear my side and only my side.  I DOUBLE DOG DARE YOU TO SHOOT ME A LIST IN COMMENTS OF THINGS IN LIFE THAT EXCITE YOU!

You didn't really ask, but here goes......  Waking up...  Going to bed... "I don't have to go to work today!"  GRANDKIDS.  Buddies, pals, get up and going with them even though I might suck in things like golf, ping pong, etc.  Making it to the urinal with dry undies (you'll unnerstand once you reach the middle age era.)

FOOD. Music. A personalized list of music. LIVE music..  PEOPLE WATCHING.  A drive.  A road trip.  Being around water, it's calming, and somehow strangely exciting at the same time.  A lazy river (Senior go round in circles)..  Hearing, giving, observing COMPLIMENTS.

Quickie videos (errant golf shots, anything with dogs, people falling down but laughing, most pranks, flashmobs, military folks surprising family....

Fun, any which way.  A chance meeting with an old friend.  When silence dominates, but, is thankfully interupted by a text, a phone call, an instant message, "thanks, I needed that".   Love, any form.  

Life, in and of itself, to me at least, is exciting.

Happy happy, love, Victurd

(I forgot to mention Willie Nelson, he of 92 years of age, still, circling the globe, performing. Willie go round (the US) in circles, Willie fly high (take that however you want) like a bird up in the sky.)

IT, phone home......

You Simpleton Victor, it's ET phone home.

Jane, you ig......... eh, yes, aware.  I used 'IT' because I truly am a Simpleton in, on, computer,  communication stuff.  For 20 or so years, I lived in cubicle land, made over 143 calls to our IT Department in frustration, despair, only/always to be met with the dreaded "Have you tried restarting your computer?"

When our IT Department would roll out a new program, assuredly making a not-to-user-friendly program friendly....... my buddy (Big'N) and I would gripe, moan, bitch, because oft times we'd find - where before, something took you two clicks, it now took seven.. or... some things would be hidden, wiped out, gone completely.  Gripe. Moan. Bitch.

Big'N's gf, a retired former IT Supervisor for a hella big Computer company, related "You two are exactly the type we would give a rollout to in advance of giving it to everyone else, because, aware, of how hard you are to please (which, is kindly apologetic to us as really, we'd gripe, moan, bitch.)

I will now spend three years of your life informing you exactly how communication has changed in our lifetime. Of course, jk.

If you're roughly the same decade, era - we had black and white TV's, landlines (our house had two, one upstairs, one down), and, radios. We thought that was tall cotton as we didn't even have AC yet (and not sure anyone did), so, what was there to complain about?

I remember, my mother and father, 'children of the Depression Era" telling us (of them) we were po' and didn't know it."  Right in line with that, some'a the fancier homes in our fine community dabbled, purchased the brand new, first available Color TV's.  Not us, but, not to be outdone by the Jones's, dad, bless his heart, came home with a plastic thingy you put over the face of our TV, giving it the kinda-sorta-pretend-to-be color TV.  Eventually, we splurged at Woody's Appliance and joined the in color world.

It was a day and time when many different forms of communication happened.  The ice cream man (RUN, don't walk, "Mom, can I have a quarter?")..  The streetlights, when they came on, time to get our booties home.  As we aged a tad, we played later - and, the flashing on/off of our porchlight was the indicator 'time to come home.'

Along about that era, and actually, even into today, our folks used ALL THREE names, full volume, of course, when we were in trouble. Honest, I rarely heard VICTOR KENDAL SCHULTZE! because I pretty much behaved.  It wasn't until I reached the driving age or so that I noticed my father balding a bit, and mom, smoking more - which, assuredly correlated to my moments of wildness.

Two phones.  When I was young, behaved, 'dibs' on the phone wasn't a priority for me. As I reached the age where my pops lost his hair, mom smoked more, it was "DADGUMMIT, Vanda (my sister) has been on the phone for OVER AN HOUR" happened.

Back in that 'I behaved' period, we, the Flanigans (9 nextdoor neighbor kids) and I, dabbled with empty juice cans, a long, long string, we emulated Alexander Graham. Fun, barely legible, well done.  At school, we communicated by passing notes.  Well, those who'd already started causing their parents to lose their hair, smoke more, did 

There was damn near a pay phone on every other corner. Came in handy for "I'm about out of gas, can you bring me a few bucks... or...  everyone is going to Weags house for the night, you care if I go, spend the night too?"  Of course I was still a model child then, but I remember my buddies taking the butt end of the pay phone phone, dropping a nickel in, and, simultaneously hitting the coin return button, and, about 5 outta 10 tries, the nickel would go thru to the coin return thingy, AND, a dial tone would be produced.  At least, that's what they told me, I was still in the angel era.

As I aged, started to cause pa' to lose hair, mom to smoke more, we used coins in a different way to communicate.  The Paseo Bridge (now, The Bond Bridge) helped us get over the Missouri River from the Northland into downtown KC, and, there was a dime toll due to do so.  There were manned toll boths, and automated thingys where you could simply drop a dime to cross.  I'd pull up to the manned booth, hand the guy a dime, and then a second dime, and I'd announce, "And this is for my buddy" who would time it, as he sped at 63 mph thru the automated thingy.  We thought 'fun', toll collector not-so-much, "smartass kids"....

While I was assuredly a redheaded smartass kid, my buddies had long been into causing their folks to lose their hair, smoke more, they'd do cruddy stuff like heat up a dime (or spit on one) then, hand it to the poor toll guy or gal.  Kids nowadays have no idea the fun we had, I guess.

Scroll forward thru one marriage, then a second, then, a child, quite a few jobs, and then, proud owner of a mom and pop delivery business - my new form of communication was a beeper.  YIPEE!  Momma worked from home, one eye on the kid, the other on the business, and she'd beep me with a new pickup, or, any other concern.

By this time, yeah, I was corrupt, but, still carried a pocketfulla dimes just in case I couldn't get the 'tap the butt of the phone on the coin return as you drop a nickel and hope for your nickel back, along with, a dial tone. Most times yeah, sometimes not, then, used a dime.

THEN, the bag phone.  I got one. I was 'color TV cool', "Thornwall 7 cool", finally, when others weren't.   Momma would page me to call, I would... I'd worry about every second of time used (EXPENSIVE) on the bag phone, would try to hurry her thru the conversation, thus, in turn causing her to smoke more cigs.  Long run, tough to compare the economics there.

This brings us to today, where, in one fell smartphone swoop, one can find out who the Chief's all time leading rusher is, check your blood pressure, remotely turn down the temp on your electric smoker at home, scan a document, use the language translator to be sure (or not) if those ladies at the pedicure joint are laughing at you, play Farmville (or Sudoku), swipe and pay at QT for a packa cigs, Facetime the oldest granddaughter in Topeka, and, listen to "Chicken train runnin all day, chicken train, running all day, chicken train, running all day, can't get on, can't get off, chicken train take the chickens away."

I would be remiss if I didn't mention one of the most beautiful forms of communication I've ever witnessed.  My cousin was the basketball coach at the Missouri School for the Deaf.  Annually, they'd venture to KC to play in Olathe, KS against the Kansas School for the Deaf.  Wonderful, normal kids, with of course just one small difference.  To watch the sign language was a thing of beauty.  It encompassed explaining, encouraging,  exclamation, laughter, and, simply being a kid.  Oh, and upon occasion, my cousin would call a time out, draw the kids into a huddle, be fairly upset with them and their play, and his hands accentuated same... to which, the kids (and I love this) would turn their heads so they couldn't see him 'yelling' at them.

Kinda like hitting 'end call' before ever picking up when you see a strange area code or Spam Risk warning.... or, caller ID when your brain tells you, "Nope, not right now anyways."

IT is the best of times, IT is the worst of time.

Forward by Alexander Graham Bell, famous bald people and toll collectors everywhere, 

Love, Victurd

Women............ Football....... Ruh Roh......

The NFL Season beginnith.....

Hey Wiki, or.. Alexa... or, Simon Says, AI........ whoever....... Does the NFL play EVERY day?

Well, no....  There are games weekly on Monday, and Thursday, and Sundays... Oh, and the NFL has increased Saturday games as well, especially late in the season and around Holidays.

Oh, and the NFL has played games on Tuesdays and Wednesdays in the past due to circumstances... .  Circumstances?  Like, you mean a guy with a BIG slice of Cheese on his head having the shakes?  Must we do away with Leash Laws and the inability to confine the Dawg Pound in the cages in Cleveland?

From Reddit, ribbit...  "Been with a guy for the better part of the year (…after football season had ended). I knew he was a football fan. I didn’t realize he was a fanatic.....   plays in 6 fantasy leagues.. .last weekend our time limited, he was 'researching and planning'...  late for our dinner date, consumed with draft or whatever the hell it is. (Our date was to a sport's bar so he could watch football.)  NFL TBC (that's fooooootball... to be continued)

Thursday, he went with friends to watch the game. Our spare time, he gets notifications on his phone damn near every 10 seconds.  We must stop what we're doing. This Sunday, Monday... looking the same... 3rd wheel I am. Frustrated... feel unimportant... if I mention it, he might dump my ass for one of the girls he knows that actually likes football... TBC

I guess my question is, should we elope, have a big church wedding, or, a destination wedding somewhere?

Of course I''m kidding. "RUN FORRESTINA!"  Her question to the Reddit ribbits, "am i being irrational... is there a healty compromise?"

Like any fill in the blank template conversation in social media... the answers were interesting....... 

"The only time you can change a man is when he's a baby..... if he prioritizes this fetish he has over your relationship, do yourself a favor and get out....    This isn't about boundaries, you are overstepping your boundaries by asking him to change. Either he is for you or not.... 6 Fantasy leagues is absolutely preposterous. 

Tell me again just how addicted he is?  "He’d stop what the 2 of us were doing to deal with it. I’d say something and he wouldn’t hear it. I walked by him stark-naked just to get a reaction and he didn’t even look up."

And, like any ole average social media chain answer thingy, folks got huffy over those who did't agree with their opine, name calling happened, both sides frustrating....... I had to stop and listen to Ray Charles for five minutes, then, YouTube'd Tim Conway for another 5.

To be fair to both sides - many women love football.  A good buddy gal I graduated with has had Chief's Season tickets for decades, has been to way more stadiums than I, and that includes Germany and a few Super Bowls.  I have friends, both sexes, that have absolutely zero interest in football.  Many couples enjoy watching together.  It can even be a family thing.

Actually, NFL fandom is made up of 45% women - and, with all the Swifties now joining in, prolly fitty fitty.

Is that all Paul Harvey?

No. Ain't.  "Woman divorces husband for booing Taylor Swift at the Super Bowl, citing it as a sign of lack of respect and care for her feelings."

Honey?  Do you have anything to say before football season starts?  (I'm kidding.)  Tastes great... Less filling...  We interrupt this marriage for football season....  The key to a great football season is to give wife a foot-rub after every touchdown.... A real woman watches football. A real awesome woman kicks her husband's ass in Fantasy Football...

HONEY?  DID YOU WASH MY CHIEF'S JERSEY?

And so it began.......

Love, Victurd

Well shake it up baby........

Well, shake it up, baby, now (shake it up baby)
Twist and shout (twist and shout)
Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now (come on baby)
Come on and work it on out (work it on out)
Well, work it on out, honey (work it on out)
You know you look so good (look so good)
You know you got me goin' now (got me goin')
Just like you knew you would (like I knew you would)

If you're old, like me... congrats.  We're lucky to be here.  Much. Much has changed since this song came out - yet, it seems like just yesterday (when our problems were so far away, eh?)

Well, shake it up, baby, now (shake it up baby)
Twist and shout (twist and shout)
Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now (come on baby)
Come on and work it on out (work it on out)
You know you twist, you little girl (twist little girl)
You know you twist so fine (twist so fine)
Come on and twist a little closer now (twist a little closer)
And let me know that you're mine, woo

Dog gone, so much has changed.  Ringo is 85, Paul, 83.. of course George and John gone, Billy Shears never surfaced.

Victor?  Uh huh?  Where ya goin' with this?  Well, I admit to SHAKE being the key word.  See, I have this daily routine.  You gotta daily routine?  Guys? You shave before coffee?  Gals? You put on your bra before or after breakfast?  We support either decision.

Ah-ah-ah-ah, wow
Baby, now (shake it up baby)
Twist and shout (twist and shout)
Come on, come on, come, come on, baby, now (come on baby)
Come on and work it on out (work it on out)
You know you twist, little girl (twist little girl)
You know you twist so fine (twist so fine)
Come on and twist a little closer now (twist a little closer)
And let me know that you're mine (know you're mine ooh)
Well, shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (shake it up baby)
Well, shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (shake it up baby)
Well, shake it, shake it, shake it, baby, now (shake it up baby)
Ah-ah-ah-ah

I bought this machine.  It's a huge part of my daily routine.  Spit it out Victor, what kinda machine?  I thought you'd never ask.  A vibration machine.  Oh, now we get it, the song "Shake it up Baby"... why didn't ya just do the Beach Boys "Good Vibrations?"

I enjoy that song, but how can ya beat the Beatles, the feel, the time, the happy, the lettin' loose, the joy... that, all that.  Back to the machine there Victor, 'wouldn't it be nice' if you could expound on that.

OK, TY.  I awaken, well before Here Comes The Sun (doo-doo-doo-doo)... A Day In The Life of Victurd includes (TMI) legs that hurt, legs that swell. SO, I bought me a vibration machine.  It's about the size of a Big Bertha Bathroom Scale (No, don't picture a nekked Big Bertha, 'twas a golf reference, a bit "Mega-sized" over regular.)  I went to Prime, ordered it from some outfit in 中國, got it in the nick of time before the price of tea/tariffs from 中國 set in.

I'm a tightwad, but you knew that.  It was like fitty bucks.  My daily routine:  feet hit floor (Woke up, fell outta bed)..  pee... coffee... VIBRATION MACHINE. WELL SHAKE IT UP BABY.  

It. Feels. So. Dadgum. Good.  I sit down, put ma' feet on it.  It comes with a remote control.  One button turns it on, there are 5, count 'em 5 varying degrees of how damn fast/hard the thing will vibrate.

10%...  ahhhhhh... kinda like a slow, deep massage.

30%...  as if the machine is asking me, "day of week?... prepared for the weather?  What's for breakfast? Good Day Sunshine.

50%....  I can't hear the TV, shouldn't hold coffee cup (it'd spillith over).. shake it up baby, wake it up mister.

70%....  Holy crap that hurt's good.  Ever have someone pound on your back?  Uh huh, except now it's your feet.  I'm afeared to touch anything metal for I may electrocute myself.

90%...  OMG.  My belly is in Misery as I peek down and watch it bounce from Iowa to Arkansas and back up and down again and again. I cAn'T rEaD, I cAn'T wRiTe, I cAn'T fEel, OuCh, DaMn CoFfEe!  I keep expecting Maxwell's Silver Hammer to come down upon my head. It's basically, VICTOR, GIT YO' FATASS UP!

So I do.  It's kinda hard to Act Naturally after all that crap, but eventually I do.  I highly recommend vibration machines.  Editor's note.  If you buy one, have complications, don't sue my little hiney. Blood/Turnip. Always consult your Doctor before beginning anything like this, or, riding a rollercoaster, having sex after 70, and.... pogo sticks are definite no no.

Well shake it up baby and have a fantastic day.

Victurd

(PS, I love you)

Can I see a menu please?

Did you ever have to make up your mind?

You pick up on one and leave the other behind..

It's not often easy and not often kind..

Did you ever have to make up your mind?.,  

Seems to me, life is all about choices. Sure, this Lovin' Spoonful is all about

seeking, finding a mate, perhaps losing a mate due to their choice, or, even yours.

I'm talking day in, day out, CHOICE.  We awaken, choose how to perceive and interact with the world. You know me, know better.  That sentence wasn't mine, it was AI.  BUT, I do kinda agree.  We choose our behaviors, like, diet yay/nay... whotheheck, when we see Caller ID, pickup, or not.  We can strive for optimism... try to put negativity in the Biz Bag.

So, so many factors play into it all.  Age.  You know I ain't no expert, but (haha) I do like to watch, observe, folks.  When a baby, we're selfish.  We've not really learnt anything about others, so, it's Feed Me Seymour, Feed Me, or....... change my dadgum diaper wouldya?  When we turn two, we hear, recognize that dreaded word "NO", we immediately cascade to the floor, turn up the volume, flail our arms, legs in a fit of snow angels.  I remember WalMart, first ever grandkiddo.  Any, everything she wanted, if she could get it up that high, it was in the cart... s'more, paragraph too long, sorry, kinda.

So..... about the 9th item I took back outta the cart, announced (mostly calmly) "No", put back on the shelf, she dropped into tantrum mode... on the floor..  even louder than "Cleanup on aisle 7".. tears, real or forced I dunno... I kept going down the aisle.  Turned the corner. Prayed there was no sicko pervert behind to grab her, or, Gladys Kravats turning me in for child neglect.  Pitter patter, ah, her footsteps.  Little by little, we learned more about wants, choices, who decides, yada. (Things got a lot better when she hopped in the cart, we chose to ride down the fan aisle - 40' long aisle with over a hunnerd fans, all, on, blowing, and we each, acted like 2 year olds, yelling into each and every one!)

Of course we don't have the responsibilities as a youth we must bear, go through as an adult, but, between play and sleep, life is mostly scripted at that age.  Time to get up.  In the tub. Get dressed. Bus will be here in 7 minutes.  School, structure.  Bus back.  Homework. A bit of play. Dinner. Room clean?  Bedtime.

Along the road of life. ........... the Yellow Brick Road...   The vast majority of us eventually head to the alter. Alter being a very key word in regard to choice.  Oh... so now what?  Thermostat.  Remote control.  Who's driving.  The view from the passenger seat, "Slow DOWN Herbert"..  "Violet, can  you even see the white lines?" Vacation, staycation, to reproduce or not, duties: laundry, cook, clean, grocery store, much.  We run our choices by our mate and make mutual, give and take decisions.

Absolutely, there is joy and love in making joint choices. Where to live, house, condo, apartment.. what City? Your town, her town, our town, anudder town.  Decisions on what to do, where to go, when.  Give, take. Mostly, mutually enjoyed.

I really enjoyed visiting St. Thomas.  VICTOR?  Tea/price/China?  St. Thomas housing is pretty much landlocked. They've built where they could build.  So, if Junior chooses to marry, insteada those questions (apartment, condo, buy, acreage, City, Country, yada).. they simply build another level onto their parents home.  Basically no choice, unless really affluent.

Being old, single (divorced) I admittedly look like a slob when at home, eat Chili Cheese Fritos wheneverinthehell I want, do this, do that, pretty much whenever I want.  Selfish.  Perhaps reverting to childhood.  While this outfit perfectly fits many, and, they wouldn't want it any other way - sure, I'd enjoy sharing the remainder of what there is here with another, albeit sacrificing selfish choice.

Aging parents effect choice.  Our own health, or, that of a mate can make 'must' just that.  I know you've seen, perhaps you're going thru, or have gone through, the care taking of a mate. I absolutely do not love the fact one must go through this, but I SO ADMIRE those that set aside their own personal choices - to lend, bring comfort, take care of, their mates - whatever the reason.  It's a wonderful reflection of love - and they wouldn't have it any other way.  We've all heard the story of the mate going to visit their mate in a Home, a dementia ward, daily.  A misguided friend might offer "You do that, but he/she doesn't even recognize, know who you are?"   "Yes, but I know who he/she is."  Kudos, backflip, pat the heart, yum. Sad, but damn yummy.

Yes, death and taxes. No choice.

But, along the ride, it's such a beautiful journey of choice.  Some tough, some not fun, most though, extremely rewarding lending thankfulness and graciousness.

I'm going to take a nap.  I'll pass those dishes in the sink en route.  I'll get to 'em, but prolly not until after golf.  I am very, very thankful for friends that still invite me to do so.  Combining age, physical condition, life, it's very tempting, 'easier', to say, "Nah, but thanks."

We've all heard, if you don't move, you die.  Our choice I guess.

Love, Victurd

Hands.........

Hands.....

Touchin' hands......

Reachin' out......

Touching me.. touchin' you......

(Uh huh, good times never seemed so good...   SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD!)

A little diddy, about a blogger and hands.. two wierd things, doin' the best they can.......

Handshakes are weird, different... sometimes eerie, sometimes even, "oh crap, he's gonna break a bone in my hand." (That's what I say when I see my buddy who works in concrete all day.  He means well, I, my hands suffer.  His 'always there' smile mebbe helps a bit.)

ISpy.  For whatever reason, in a land long ago and far away (ie, prolly Fulton, MO, mebbe Jeff City, MO).. some redheaded snotnose thought it would be funny to stick out an open hand when a family picture was taken.  Became a stupid tradition, but, it occasionally brought laughter, so, redheaded snotnose continued doing it.  Sorry, kinda.

Hands, a Jewel of a story.  Victor, bragging is not an attractive thing.  Jane, you ignorant slut, (sorry, kinda) I was talking about the singer Jewel and the story behind the song "Hands."

Before Jewel wrote the song, she experienced kidney troubles which kept her from working... got her fired in job after job - which, led to poverty, and ultimately, homelessness.  She stole food simply to survive, but, worried that might lead her to steal more expensive items.  One day she eyeballed a nifty sundress through the store window.. went inside, picked it up, was gonna try it on, steal it................. but then.......

"I had the price tag in my hand and it was one of those moments in my life, like a lightning bolt struck me, it was $39.99 and I thought "when did I lose faith in myself? When did I start thinking that I can't earn $40 for myself?"

Victor how do you know all that crap?  It was in Wiki, sorry, forgot to mention the source. 

slap my hand.  Tweren't long after she wrote "Hands"... deducting 'my hands would be 

better off writing songs than stealing dresses. 

Cousin Darrell and his hand. (Must be something wierd about our family and the hand 

thing.) Anyways, Darrell is the only person I've ever met that can actually clap, one-handed. Damndest thing you've ever seen.  I'm a pickin' (holding hand out in pictures) and He's a 

grinnin' (clapping one-handed as he does.)

Out of hand....... reminds me of my early teaching days......  Bite the hand that feeds... reminds me,

when i lived the cubicle life, phone rang, boss on other end... "We you sleeping?"  NO. (I was.)

A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.  Take what you're sure of, at your grasp, versus risky

what might be.  Rare is the time I get ahead at the casino, and even rarer, when, if I am, the saying 

"Pigs get fat, hogs get slaughtered" is taken to heart, to the cashier cage, to my car.

I gotta hand it to you Victor..... OK, I'll go for a hand out.

An almost relative (That's when they're living in sin) asked 'Can you lend a hand?" Had a 20' by 8' 

deck in the back of his house, wanted to double the size, making it 20' by 16'.  "Ok, but hammers don't

fit my hands.. I'll be happy to feed real carpenters the boards when they need 'em." He agreed, we did,

they built.  Afterwhich, we told him, as his deck was now doubled in size, "You're gonna have to get

more friends now."

Victor, you're weird, that we've gathered.. but, we ain't no stinkin' palm readers, where's all this hand 

crap going?

I'll try to explain.  I actually wanted to do a blog on kindness.  I looked up phrases using the word 

kind, and "It takes all kinds" came up.  Yes, there can be negative connotation to that, but I'm talking the good definition here....... as in, diversity. Diverse personalities, opinions and

abilities. It takes a village.  Acceptance of others. Big hands, little hands, different color hands, helping

hands, in good hands, the kindness of a handshake, even if you are a hod carrier (that's a tool used to

carry materials to make concrete, thus, enabling you to have a handshake to break blogger hands 

when you shake them.

Grandma's hands.  Wisdom. Loyalty.  Tree rings. Bill Withers. Oh Bill Withers.  Kindness, hands.

Grandma's hands. Lean on me. Lovely day.

So......... hands......... kindness....  and I guess choice would fit in there somewhere.  We can choose to 

be kind, or not.  We can chose to lend a hand, pat on the back, help someone up, or not.

You hear............... ok, at least maybe I hear, connotations about how key kindness is in making a

relationship, be it lover, friend, coworker, neighborhood, town, State, Country, World., great.

Handshakes and hugs.  Our choice. If only Bill were here to write another song about that.

Maybe Jewel can, or, Mr. Diamond. Good times.  Harmony in a World of difference, kindness

sprinkled on top. We need it. Always

Love, Victurd

Serious stuff........

Life = Vely Interesting........ 

Take a float trip for example.  The goal, fun... relaxation...  getaway...  Road trip, snacks purchased, SUV filled up.. packed, clothes of sorts to adjust to Mother Nature.  Happy.  Lawn chairs, filled with the bods of good friends. Twigs, logs, mebbe some lighter fluid - circle of rocks - bingo, firepit - fun, the heart rate goes beep     beep    beep     beep in a very good way.

Oh 'shirt', life happens.  Rain.  Leaky tent.  Damn skeeters.  A phone alarm goes off, meaning, one hour until the bus leaves to drop floaters off at the entry point.  Air mattress leaked, ya slept on flat ground... 'slept' being, your clothes were mostly soaked, ya got maybe three hours sleep.  It's OK, we're off for fun.  'Nuff serious crap.

Smiles aplenty.  Runny makeup, who cares, coolers packed with libations, snacks, bungy cords. Yippee Ki Yay, let's roll.  Bus driver smiley, in spite of doing this virtually every day, over and over.  Where's Scooter. Scooter's always late.  Stressy, don't need stressy.  Finally, "There he is."  He was fun-cussed as he boarded.

"Don't let your feet get wet" smiley driver announced as he dumped everyone off.  Canoes grabbed.  Floating veterans in the water, in their canoe in a jiffy.  Grumpy old men, women, took a little longer - but, sometimes even in serious business (placing overweight, outta shape, vely old, herniated disc, third hip, onto into canoe) can produce funny, ha ha moments.  Stating "Hold my beer" doesn't haveta include "and watch this" because it ain't a feat, it's a struggle of the feet.  Do not pass go, do not collect $200 if you are the first person to capsize, especially if you ain't even moved away from shore....... Soon, all in.

Serious comes in all forms.  One such form, the pair in the lead canoe... no real interest in a stop downstream on a sand bar to tell old (and new) war stories. Nope.  Blinders on, "I'll be damned if this is a six hour float - we're doing it in four." Fun, well done, I guess.

For a good period of time......... Nature lends beauty, greenery, bluffs, critters here, critters there (birds, herons, beavers, muskrats, squirrels, baby deer, even fishies in the clear clear water.)  Hank took in all the beauty as he paddled, steered from the back...  Sandy sitting upfront, controlling the pace, peeking for debris in their path - did also.  "I love you's" came out at virtually the same (owe me a Coke) time.  Calmness, doing 'want to's', no cubicle walls, commuter traffic, bills in the mailbox, "it's only Tuesday"s, humdrum, same ole same ole stressy crap the last thing on paddler minds.  Clear water yields reflection, as do those beep      beep      beep       beep heart rate moments do too. Reflection of calm.  Love. Thankfulness. Getting the hell away from the day to day.

"RAPIDS AHEAD!!!!!!" hollered one canoe person.  The oldest dogs tweren't skeered, "been there, navigated that."  Newbies, white-knuckled even before the announcement, sat up taut, erect. Eyes ahead.  No sign of the lead speed racer canoe tipped over, ambulances, etc.. should be ok.

Like life, love and marriage, go together like a horse and carriage... or, mebbe, two oars and a canoe...  but too, we all know it's a rollercoaster.  The "I love you's" just uttered from Hank and Sandy's canoe - now replaced with "DAMNIT HANK, TURN RIGHT, NOW!".... "I WILL, BUT YOU STICK YOUR OAR DOWN ON THE LEFT SIDE NOW TOO, and, PADDLE BACKWARDS WE'RE GOING TOOO FAST!"

Beep      beep      beep      beep has done gone to beep-beep-beep-beep-beep...   Serious stuff... the getaway from the stress is now getaway from the dayum rapids, I like my life, I like my limbs, admittedly kinda worried, oh, and I'd really hate to see my cooler of Miller Lite go floating past the lead canoe idiots, er, I mean friends.

Chutes, whitewater, cascades, cataracts, falls, torrent, deluge.. 

Then, at home..........  feeling overwhelmed, time management, procrastination, finances, grief, anxiety, loneliness, health issues, work-life balance.......

I know there are those who don't like foat trips, as in, huh uh, no way Jose, I ain't going, I ain't doing it.

To me, life is sooooo full of serious stuff...  I tried to think of the calmest moments in my life.  I really think the vast majority of time spent within a float trip - is perhaps the calmest I've ever felt.

Partnered.  Beauty.  Nature.  No minimum speed limit.  Usually, a nice group of friends along.. Campfires..  War stories..  Laughter..  Hugs..  Comfort clothes (not 'look at me' clothes)..  "How's my hair look?"  Who gives a damn.

I talk too much, sorry, kinda.  This morning on TV I saw a brief clip on kids.  Creek Crawlers.  Seven boys, one girl.  Instead of the present day stay'er in'er all day, play video games, eyes glued to phone, Facebook, all things not conversed, enjoyed in the flesh... these kids take their phone with them, but, they build forts... swim... fish... they sing.. . shoot hoops... outside... explore... and they record, report it on Instagram.

Their goal is to get one million followers.  They're presently at 665,000 and growing.  Not to be surprised, a majority of the viewers are age 45 and up, brought back to simpler times, times with no big worries.

I think that's really all we want in life. Sure, if we didnt have the fall-downs, we'd never have the stand-rise ups.  Capsizing in a rapid affords remembering how comforting, relaxing, lazy rivers are.

The laps of life.  Many having steeple chase like obstacles (hurdles, creeks to hop).. the lazy river is among my fav.......

I've found, envisioning living daily in a lazy river helps me.  Victor?  You preaching again damnit?

No.  Just desire a nice ride whilst we're here.  Make love, not War.  Mebbe steer clear of them that ain't got their oars in the water.  Remember to let hair down with fair frequency.  Life is short.  Slow down ya move too fast, ya got to make the morning (and afternoon, evening, night) last.

It is said, "Maybe a nice prerequisite to marriage would be to go on a float trip together first."  Test of wills, stresses mebbe.  Done 'alter'ed' twice, no regrets with either canoe partner, would do the same, pick the same again.

The lazy river, calm current, no stresses are cinchy.  It's the serious stuff in life that is difficult.

BRB, going to see what the going rate is at Maggard's Campground on the Little Niangua is.  Then mebbe I'll hunt for a canoe mate.

Happy day, Victurd