Storage Wars.... 3, 2, 1.. . Thanks for the memories

 -I ain't sure Victurd has used deodorant recently... from the looks'a that title, whatever he's got up his sleeve probably stinks.

Haha.

In my lifetime, I think I have watched 5, maybe 10 minutes of Storage Wars.  Apparently, the show first aired in 2010... there've been like five spinoffs... when I Wiki'ed it, Holy guacamole, I had no ID (that's how we Ozark hillbillies say that) the popularity of the show.  The premiere show of the 2nd season totaled 5.1 million viewers, making it then A&E's most watched show, ever. No wonder there's more things on TV to watch than the sports I'd imagined "doesn't everyone watch sports?"

Wiki even listed over 30 'characters' viewers have come to know, love, hate, up close.  Bidding fueds.  Father son combos, hubby wife combos that breakup, end up bidding agin' one another.  Cutthroat, so to speak.

I ain't gonna replay the show because, again, I've watched ten minutes of it.  I guess Cali has a law (and probably many States similar) that after payment is 36 days in arrears, the storage owner can have an auction to git ridda the stuff so that he/she may again rent it out.  Bidders get five minutes to look, but don't touch (or enter, then bid.

Notable finds on the show........... junk, junk, junk, junk, huge comic book collection, junk, fridge, junk, AC, three drawings by Pablo Picasso, clothes, junk, a letter written by Abraham Lincoln, junk, table, chairs, a human corpse wrapped in plastic, junk, freezer, junk, ladder, Paris Hlton's stuff, junk, TV, Return of the Jedi Jacket.. you know, your normal stuff.

Digging into storage in general.. we learn (or I learned) storage units average cost ranges from $40 a month to $250 and of course, dependent on size, location, temperature controlled, yada.

 One can assume there are many sad song stories. Regular storage, not the show, we done talking about that! Like say, an elderly widowed person moves from home to a nursing home ("Don't sell ma' stuff, sentimental value in addition to regular value"_.. so.. in seven or eight years time, the queen bed, dining table, chairs, old style TV, candlesticks, trinkets, yada, accrue $24,000 or so running costs. Aye yai yai. (I wanna go back, have a redo, change my 'when I grow up I wanna", change ir from baseball player to storage unit place owner... geez, and, little to no labor costs).. 

Victor, pick it up, dragging a bit. A quick self storage glance elsewhere talked about, a chop shop, people living in them, a Walter White-like Meth lab, a cat in a kennel from a divorce argument, eww, a guy in a freezer who had been murdered by his ex gf's son, and, grandma in her coffin 17 years after dying.  Eww, eww, enough Victor, I agree.

So, what's the 3, 2, 1..Thanks for the memories crap? 

I'm so glad you asked, thanks. I think we all love people.  I think we all love history. I think we, in general, don't do a very good job in 'storage', remembering those that came before us.  Thanks to relatives, yes, ancestry studies help, but like me, personally, haven't done a great job preserving things, stories, events, etc, from my son, sister, parents, grandparents, great grandparents, etc.

We need more 'keep 'em alive' kinda things. Journals. Interviews NOW, whilst still here, pictures, pictures, pictures, videos, etc.

Some very basic suggestions from Google on pics:

The best way to store pictures for the future is to use the3-2-1 rule:

 keep 3 copies of any important photo, on 2 different media types (e.g., cloud + hard drive), with 1 copy stored off-site. Utilize high-capacity external SSDs for fast, reliable storage and cloud services like Amazon Photos, Google Photos, or iCloud for automated, accessible, and secure backups.

I suck at stuff like that, but if helps you.. I'll feel better. How wonderful would it be to sit with a grandparent, learn about their parents... or even, sit with our folks, talk about nothing but their childhood.  Too late for most of us, mebbe those behind us can do a bang up job into the future.

We the people, concentrate on stuff.  It's just stuff. We the people needta concentrate on people.

Right Barbara?

Love, Victurd 

Repeat after me...........

No, that's not really it.

 

I have noticed, in life, like in writing.... we have likes, dislikes, near addictions to some things, distaste for others.  And, all'a that could even occur within a family, a friendship, an age, yada, and sure, even within a blog.

 

Same ole same ole thing rears its (I never said ugly) head.  Diversity.  And.. that's the way uh huh uh huh, we seem to like it. 

 

I'm excited  about the Royals opening the season today, you? I don't care.

 

OK. Then howabout The Sweet Sixteen?  SURELY, outta sixteen teams there's gotta be one geographically you like, maybe had aunt, uncle, cousin, sib, grand that went there? Howabout cool uni's?  Are you a traditional type, or, quicker to like the flashy new neon colors?   I'm sorry I'm not sorry, but... I will probably still be catching up on Yellowstone.

 

I give up. NO DON'T, variety is the spice of life. 

 

Victor?  How'd you get here?  Well, I was born in St. Louie, moved a ton when I was little...  St. Charles, Denver, Colorado Springs, Jeff City, then finally Liberty..  NO, I mean, how'd you get HERE?  Your little diversity, variety thingy.

 

I blame it on Mick.  Mick?  Uh huh, Jagger. And whatshisname, the old guy they give grief to. I woke up.. ALL these Rolling Stone songs were going thru my brain.......... Satisfaction..  Honky Tonk Women.... Gimme shelter... Paint it black..., Sympathy for the devil...... AND.. I thought I'd do another stupid, yet hopefully 'catchy' blogs using titles from their songs.................

 

So........................  I Wiki'ed 'em.

 

Learned Mick and whatshisname actually lived close, met, in THE EARLY 19Fitties...  GOOD GOSH that's a long time.  Interesting to me, yet, mebbe no Royals, no sweet 16, no this, no that, hey hey you you get offa that cloud, ya know?

 

So....... I asked Google or AI or whoeverinthehell it is when you shoot a question to the internet........ Things that were prevalent then that are still prevalent today so mebbe, just mebbe, we'd have common ground, likes.

 

AND?

 

Well, the first thing that popped up was "Political Activism and Protest" so I'm gonna do a long dissertation on my take........... just kidding but it is ironic to me that the essential question "Are we there yet are we there yet?" can be answered yes, and we always (almost always) have been.

 

And, tis mentioned civil rights protests, women's lib, human rights, social justice, environmental concerns.  The more we change, the more we stay the same it seems.

 

Jeans and casual fashion.  Denim does it.  Back then we's kinda embarrassed by patches on our knees, hells bells, now, Distressed is like the new Grease is the word. 

 

If you're a Craigslist or a Facebook Swap and Shop addict like me (I'M NOT... ok, I get it, that diversity crap again) you'll notice Retro furniture, interior design trends, Fitty-Sixty-ish (again.)

 

Then (fast foods, Oreos, Pop Tarts, gelatin salads) and now.  Howabout stuffed appetizers and fun foods.... sure, many are lazy like me and ask the Piggly lady "Gimme one'a those already made up charcuterie things", but, many are creative, just like they usedta be.

 

Sure, much has changed...... JUNIOR PUT YOUR SEATBELT ON..  Honey, I'm out, gimme one'a your Pall Malls..  Would you like the smoking or non smoking section on the plane? Fill er up, leaded.. .Red dye # whatever it was...  clackers...  jungle gyms..  garden hose sips...  I AIN'T PAYIN FOR NO DAMN BOTTLED WATER..  

 

Remember when country roads really didn't have no speed limits?  Tricky Dick changed that..   Tommy, meet me at Schmitty's..we're gonna see how close we can get to the skeeter fog truck!  Mercury was onea the first spaceships, but remember when everyone freaked when a thermometer broke?

 

It's all enough to giveya your 19th nervous breakdown. 

 

I guess the point is, it's really hard to write about something we all agree with. (To which you're supposed to shake your head and say "uh huh, we agree Victor.")

 

Victor? Uh huh? They left 8 paragraphs ago. THE BASTA'S!!! ER, I mean, OK. I'll try harder tomorrow! 

 

You can't always get what you want.........but if you try sometimes, you get, just what you need.. .

 

Like, a nap.  Just as prevalent today today as it was in 19Fitty Something when Mick and Keith played cricket in Dartford, Kent.

 

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz,

 

Love, Victurd 

 

If I were a niche man......

How's your day?....  I'm biased........  Me thinks this is a really, really fine time of year.

 We here in the Midwest.. and, friends, loved ones in the Upper halfa the US, it's the time of year where ya ain't gotta stand by the front door... open it pensively, asking, "Is it safe? Am I free from frostbite? Do I gotta spend fitty minutes scraping the snow, ice offa the ole' Buick?

Victor... we live in (Houston, Florida, SoCal, Mehico) we ain't gotta worry about all that, all the time. Well goodie for you...I will try not to cuss too loud or, send, not-so-kind hand signals in Nov-Feb...... 

Baseball Ray.."Play Ball" abounds.. Boys, girls alike, dig the glove outta the box in the garage - go have 'a game of catch', what better? Victor, I'm not really a fan, boring game.

Eh, ok.  But... it's still "BASKETBALL JONES" (March Madness.) Bragging rights, making fun of, wearing duds representing one's favorite team.  Victor, not much into basketball either.... Victor?...  Victor?...  ALVIN??

OK!!!  Still, I kinda think, universally, cause for pep in ones step, smiles ahead...even if yain't into The Mick, or, Kareem, there's gardening, indoor plants, 'feeshin', people wear less, I'M FREE, smiles ain't covered up by masks, thus, more frequent.

You mighta caught the word NICHE up there. My brain, upon awakening, worked (that's always a good thing) but, it also went back to 19fitty-something, sixty-something... and "What do I wanna be when I grow up" (for me there was but one answer.. Baseball Ray.)

Very well aware, the playing field is broader than that. I consulted my buddy AI and learned we twerps dreamed of being Doctors, Teachers, musicians, scientists, athletes... and, the "I wanna's" were painted by events of the times...  "Cowboys" on TV, and, the Great Space Race that took over the US (I remember having stickers allover my notebook, drawing pics of spacecrafts... ) so, Astronaut was anudder answer.

Sure........ then the brain goes to today.. whadda snotnoses of the day wanna be?  To my surprise, alotta the same stuff on the list.. teachers, doctors, lawyers, athletes, musicians...and additionally, painted by the day, "YouTuber", "Streamer", "Video Game Designer", yada.

 It's been mentioned (repeatedly) I ain't one to give advice on:  relationships, smoking cessation, Dave Ramsey-like tip$, and, employment.

It's also been mentioned, I gotta big mouth (keyboard), I kinda hear "Victor don't" which, of course is followed by "watch me."

Do as I say, not as I do.  I'd find something I enjoy the heck out of. Your niche. Your like.  You ain't bad at it. Sure, remuneration matters (to most, not as much to some)...

Tunnel.  Huh?  Uh huh, as in 'light at the end"...  a plan (to which Victor might say "what's that?")... knowing all the goodies about SS at age 62, 65, 70, whadever the age is today...  HEALTHCARE, ifn's u fortunate enough to get the hell outta Dodge before Medicare kicks in. (Scroll to Dave Ramsey, or, Edward D Jones, somebody, all that crap is foreign to me)...

So.. the thought of "Get in, get out" lends to it (work) ain't, can't be fun. Not so.  Enjoyable has a place in there, and anyone can for sure have that. Some, never wanna quit. Some, continue to work part-time in retirement, like maybe, working a couple days a week at a golf course so you can play golf for free and hit golf balls into the trees.

I could be a nightmare for managers, I admit. (Not a fan of bulldozers, over-the-shoulder-lookers, rude, arrogant, ok, I'll stop but there's more!) But too, I tried to do good work.  No matta' what  you choose... flippin' burgs, selling insurance, training, teaching, yada... make it a goal to help, and a goal to hear compliments along the way.  We all, I think, like compliments.  And, when you're Johnny Paycheck done, I am sure you too distinctly remember the compliments from above, from coworkers, customers, yada. That's a niche as well.

Are you done Joel Olsteen?  No, sorry, ain't. Be that person that wings comps too... that's dang near as gooda feel good.  Sure, it's gotta be genuine.. but man.. do compliments help unruffle the hustle bustle of a working career.

Now I'm done. 

Your welcome.

Ahm, Victor?  Uh huh?  That's you're welcome. Eh I dunno. Mr. Miagi always said "welcome", so, me thinks 'your welcome' works too.

Hey, btw, what tips, guidance, suggestion would you give to a friend or loved one entering the world of work today?

If I were a niche man, ya ba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dibba dum..

Love, Victurd
 

 

 

Anybody here.... seen my old friend......... Elsie?

Elsie, the cow?  Uh huh, subject today, until the cows come home.  Victor? You mean kinda like 'when pigs fly'?  No, that's impossible... unless Smithfield comes up with some heavy duty drone contraption to snatch Ms. Piggy from the trough and fetch her to the slaughter house.

 

Cows, under no time constraints, I guess eventually do come home. Until the cows come home is an idiom, meaning for a very long, indefinite, or nearly endless amount of time...

 

You know, like a good ole political argument, you can argue with him until the cows come home, but he'll never admit he's wrong.  Healthy, underemployed 20-somethings, sit in mom, dad's basement and play Roblox and Minecraft until the cows come home.

 

A day in the cow's life cud include....... 12-14 hours lying down. Ya gotta beef about that?  3-5 hours eating roughly a hunnerd pounds of food, 7 - 10 hours ruminating... 30 minutes drinking up to 60 gallons of water....  and, don't forget - they socialize too... yeah, MyPasture.com. Good gosh Victor, next thing ya know  you'll be giving us pee and poop stats.

 

3.5 gallons a day, and around 65 pounds of manure a day.  There is a LOT to do, until the cows come home.

 

So........ Victor?  Uh huh? Is there a point to all this? Is there an antonym to 'until the cows come home'?

 

YES!  My ex girlfriend.  VICTOR YOU ARE SOOOOOO TOAST!  I'm telling her...  comparing her to a cow..........    NO!!!! WAIT!!!

 

I was comparing until the cows come home (indefinate, very slow, a long time) to SOMEONE YOU CAN HARDLY KEEP UP WITH.  Twas, is, a compliment - not to mention, she's beautiful, so, THERE!

 

We'd be in the A Terminal at an airport...she's marching at gate 33, whilst, I'm just passing gate 5 on my way to 6...  eventually, I got to 33 and hells bells she was already in B Terminal.  I tried, but I couldn't do it.

 

So are you talking like Type A personality?  Eh, I dunno about that, just, no wasted effort.  A purpose to everything.  Busy, but not frantic.  On edge for accomplishment, but not stressy.  Always kinda thinking "what can I do next."  (I was the Uncle Joe, movin' kinda slow, at the Junction, Pettycoat Junction.)

 

She's quite impressive, really.  So when I use the 'which way did she go', I kinda sorta mean it!

 

I am addicted to psychology, and types.  Until the cows come home, like me, Uncle Joe, Maynard G. Crebs, with maybe a touch of Otis thrown in.

 

And them there ones you stand back (I prolly would sit down) and admire, WOW... you know like my ex gf... Lady Gaga (songwriter, singer, producer, actress). Jamie Foxx.. actor, musician, stand-up artist.. J Lo, Clint Eastwood,  Steve Martin, Ms. 9 to 5 herself...  busy, they's busy. 

 

Just two different types, and, room in life, on the farm, acreage, for both types.

 

One, ya sit back and observe, admire... and go "Wowzer"......

 

And the other type... they don't Dilly Dilly...  they Dilly Dally.. "You need a purpose!  Hey! Wait!  I done organized cow patty bingo, then, we're gonna have a herd mentality board game... all topped of by cow patty toss for distance, accuracy, yes........ all, on purpose.  Then, after, we may all sit around and have a few Spotted Cows.

 

There's no real wrong or right types in life........... just different. 

 

Victor?

 

Uh huh?

 

You're really different.

 

Bite me.

 

Love, Victurd 

ET homophone.....

Xplain Lucy.

 

Victor, you're old, but, some'a them may have ZERO idea whointhehell Ricky Ricardo is.

 

Ok then, I'll explain.

 

War time, 1943.  Milton Drake's young daughter Barbara, came home, and sang "Cowzywheet and sowsywheet and liddlsharks edoysters... or something like that.

 

It was wartime.  A horrible time.  A wonderful time, in that, UNITED, meant just that. Gents marching off, Rosey's riviting, everyone pitched in.

 

Levity, nonsense was needed, very badly.  Drake + two then wrote, Mairzy Doats. As in, Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey.. a kiddley divey too, wouldn't you?

 

They continued, "If the words sound queer, and funny to your ear, a littlle bit jumbled and jivey, Sing, "Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy. A kiddley divey too, wouldn't you?"

 

ET phoned home, but, Mairzy doats is a homophone,  a word that sounds like another but has a different meaning, origin or spelling.

 

Which, brings us to Lucy, Ricky, Rorschach tests, and life.

 

Victor, you might include lunatics, as I think you are just that.

 

OK, Lucy, Ricky, Rorschach tests, life, and lunatics.  I watched a little bit of a youtube Rorschach test and it was pretty interesting.  Wiki says (do I needta Snopes wiki?) they actually still use Rorschach (you know, the ink blot test where folks tell a shrink what he/she says, then they 'figure 'em out.  Supposedly.  

 

Victor, nowadays, not only do you gotta check the accuracy, validity of Wiki, but, ya also might do the same with Snopes.  Ahhhhhhhhhhhh, thanks, you just helped make my point.

 

We see, hear things, differently.  Bing Crosby on a USO Tour singing Mairzy Doats may be just what the doctor ordered for some, but too, there's the feller(s) that might respond, "Please leave me alone just to be able to sit here, grab a smoke from the pack'a Lucky's tucked up in my TShirt sleeve."

 

Diversity.  HUGE. Life.  Take a pack'a family members out in a Pontoon, have 'em look at the clouds... "Whadda ya see?"  The answers, diversity, is amazing.  Arrange a buncha folks on a site like, say, Facebook... ask 'em about the Iowa Hawkeyes, Missouri Tigers, KU Jayhawks, Donald Trump, Bernie Sanders, Eminem, Billy Graham, Howard Stern, Beyonce, Lionel Richie, sisk, boom, ba.

 

Damnit Victor, gimme levity, sing Mairzy Doats again.  Right?

 

Things, things that make one person smile....happy (puppies, raindrops on roses, rainbows, all inclusive Cabo condos... might bring the Big Air brake of the train (or, the Jake Brake of a semi, thanks Terry) to others......... as in, NO, leave me alone.. cabin in the woods, a good book (or two), my 22 rifle for target practice, and no other people,  

 

We hear athletes all the time, say, "I just figured out, I'll never figure it out."  THAT, be life.

 

I see two dragons. (I'm thinkin' paranoia, you?)  LOOK!  A kitty cat!  (NOT management material.)  I see a bat, with blood runnin' down his mouth. (Charlie, did you lock the door? Can we outrun this basta?)

 

Differnt. Homophone. Lucy, Ricky, turn the channel, I'd rather watch The Honeymooners. Still lookin' for that blue jean baby queen, prettiest girl I ever seen.. see her shake on the movie screen... Jimmy Dean (James Dean.)

 

And where do we go from here?  Which is the way that's clear?

 

Exactly, we're a chocolate mess...  our ducks are all in a row..   TDS... Bernie's crazy..  Mairzy Doats because they taste great, LESS FILLING.  

 

Let's go to the movie... pizza shop... Bar Mitzvah...  Winslow Arizona...  Tattoo Convention.. Grand Canyon..   Four dead guys in granite...   The County lake is fine by me.  We agree to disagree, or not, and we do it again, s'more.. no we don't..  yes we do...You're an idiot..  Takes one to call one.

 

OH BABY WHADDA PLAY! When will this game be over, I'm gonna miss American Idol.

 

I LOVE ME SOME LIFE.

 

And you.

 

Love, Victurd. 

I need one'a them semi runoff thingys.......

You seen 'em, I've seen 'em.. Terry lives by 'em.

 

Huh?  Yain't?  The hills (mountains) are alive (steep, very) with the sound of music (usually them truckers listen to Hank Williams I think... but the other sound(s) are jake brakes... I-70 for example, thru the Rockies.. After the ascent, ya got the descent... the brakes can get too hot, fail, most/some of the above......... so..............

 

On the right side'a the Interstate, there's an emergency ramp built specially to stop (my little) runaway trucks (a run run run run, runaway.)  They got like an uphill ramp, filled with like 36' deep of gravel.. You stop. You no go, anymore.  Then say whew.

 

That's how I feel. I was gonna do the Hooked On A Feeling lyrics (no, not BJ Thomas, the Björn Skifs and Blue Swede version with the Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga because I REALLY enjoy that... 

 

It's a love song... I was gonna do the lyrics, then, equate it to life as it goes by... this stage, that stage.. the golden, or back nine stage... then, the book/movie Death of a Salesman entered my mind, cause who am I kidding, I ain't been married in a long time.

 

So........ as I creeped up Vail Pass (in ma' brain)... my thoughts turned to happiness... because holy guacamole, I dunno if you've looked out, but, it's kinda turbulent out there....the thought was........ How do you measure pleasure......  simple (I thought) question. I would think pleasure, happiness, is a goal of us all.

 

Katy bar the door.  Then locked it, thru away the key, my goodness... the first thing that popped up was The Hedonic Calculus (Bentham)...  that's like a hunnerd times more (X-rated) "Close ur eyes and ur ears Sonny" than Professor Harold Hill's "Oh we got trouble" about kids and a cue ball.

 

Next. No run off to be seen, brakes ain't squeekin', making noise.

 

So, my brain turned to the song "My boomerang won't come back" cause I dunno about you, but, sometimes in life everything don't go exactly as it's supposed to. Katy barred that door too. The BBC wouldn't play the song, demeaning, racially motivated... geez Louise.. that's hella worse than real life where a simple Titliest won't come back, or, at least lemme find it.

 

No Del Shannon, no Runaway (or,  Runoff) yet.  While we're still kinda on the Boomerang subject, I thought "Weird", the producer if the 1961 song was a dude named George Martin (he even played the piano and keyboards in the song) ya mighta heard of him because he was extensively involved in the Beatles original albums, and yes, commonly referred to as "the 5th Beatle".

 

So, I'm standin' on the corner in Winslow Arizona............no, wait, that ain't it.

 

Remember Victurd? You're in Colorado.  OH YEAH, thanks!  Driving a semi... I have NO IDEA how to shift gears... no idea what/where the Jake brake is... even moreso, why they don't call it a Jill brake, I'd listen to her! (No misogynist comments about how loud, nope, I didn't)

 

So, I keep on truckin'.  Turn off Hank (a little goes a long ways), found my John Denver tape... "Almost Heaven, West Virginia"..  Victor, you're in Colorado.......... ah hell, mountains is mountains...  the beauty of the pines, firs, spruces and, ah, the aspens...   

 

Such beauty, makes ya forget life's woes, boomerangs that won't come back.. 'which way did she go' ladies that run-off.. scratchin' on the eight ball...... so, it's that beauty, pleasure of it all, which is exactly the intent of this blog.  right Jake?   Jake?

 

JAKE? Oh hell. I shoulda put in Del Shannon. My little runaway, a run, run, run, run, runaway...........faster and faster (sweat, blood pressure, no idea what pedal to press, which handle does what - kinda like life sometime)..and faster and faster, and finally, see  a runoff... more smoke, noise, CRUNCCHNNNN.. which, seemed to take fitty heartbeats.... there I was.

 

Ah, "Breaker 1 9?"  They still do that? ........ apparently not... John Denver still goin in the background... disc almost done. FINALLY, a Smokey. A BEAR?  No, the CSP.  "Hi Officer!"  You're stuck.  Yessir, I am.  Well.. there's a tow outfit in Eagle but he don't work Mondays.. I can get him up here tomorrow, round noonish.  Thank you sir.  There's worse places to be stuck.

 

Thought about playing me some Ooga-Chaka Ooga-Ooga Ooga-Chaka,,, nah.. the Beatles? No thanks. My Boomerang? STOP.  Del Shannon, shut your mouth. AC DC? Nah, my nerves are shot. Ah, here.. this one........ yep., Elton. 

 

So, I'm not sure what all that was, is.  Kinda like life.  Up, down, happy, sad. Sometimes lost, no GPS.  Sometimes no brakes (I warned ya!  Shoulda listened! Like I said...)

 

A little diddy, about (life, and) Jake...  brakes. 

 

Love, Victurd 

 

 

  

Aye yai yai

 WORDLE