Covers..........

At the golf course where I work......... OH CRAP VICTOR?  Is this another ME ME ME post?

No.

Mebbe.

Possibly.  

Where was I?  Ahm, Victor.. i think you were at the Doctor's office getting a cognitive assessment because you do this quite often.  What?  FORGET, you are forgetful.

Oh...

Well....... (that's a deep subject)...

At the golf course where I work........ DAILY, we get 'head covers' turned in left and right.  Head covers are these cloth, leather devices that will keep your $350 pride and joy new driver  (that you told your old lady it cost Two-fitty... sorry about the old lady part, but you're already aware I'm a misogynist eh?) protected from dings.

Men, they take the head cover off, drive their golf ball on hole #1 (forget to grab it after), play the hole, move to 2, 3, 4, etc... eventually some nice dude or dudette playing behind grabs the head cover, tosses it in their cart.. .and turns it in when they are finished....  we get, got, hunnerds  of 'em, because, as women say "Men don't pickup after themselves."  (We don't have to, we simply collect the cover from the counter the next time we play, nanny nanny boo boo._

Or, we leave it altogether...   at season end, the course has two hunnerd and fitty of em, no place to put 'em, so...  they're donated to some snotnose daycare for the kids to make hand puppets.  Yeah, they are.

Manhole covers.  Stolen by methheads to sell for scrap, particularly in December, "Methy Christmas."

OUCH! The hell?  Whar'd that cover go?

WOMEN.  Women are cover thieves. They are.  And Bic lighters.  We men wake up freezing in the middle'a the night, wanting a cig, but, there ain't no way to light it.  If it ain't the wife it's the damn dog.

The Beatles.

Ahm, Victor?  Yeah? Howinthehell are you gonna weave THIS blog together?

Cinchy.   The Beatles steal covers too.. or did.  Among some of 'em:  Anna...  Chains...  A Taste of Honey..  Please Mr. Postman..  Roll Over Beethoven (I bet he might).. You Really Got a Hold On Me..  Money..  Kansas City/Hey Hey Hey Hey, HEY! SAY IT AIN'T SO!  So (sorry), so.  Act Naturally NO! I THOUGHT SURE THAT WAS RINGO's DEAL? 

And......... the reason this here whole damn blog was written this morning, Twist and Shout. Nuh uh?  Sorry, uh huh.

As this song went thru my brain this morning.. I Googled which Beatle sang it?  (was pretty sure it was John).. John confirmed...  and twas there I learned it was actually written a couple years before the Beatles sang it (Phil Medley and Bert Burns.).. The Top Notes then recorded it..  The Isley Brothers too (and I guess that version is popular.. 

But............. I love the Beatles version.  Passion. Gravely voice.  Let it all hang out. The Hombres?  Well, no. I meant, John let it all hang out. 

I went back and listened to the Isley version.. . not bad...  then, The Beatles... found out, the reason John sounded so passionate, gravely was because they'd already recorded for 12 hours that day... it was the final song of the session... they did it in two takes and, it was a good thing they did because John was D.O.N.E, done.  No voice left.

That's the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it.  He'd given everything.  When I did go back and re-listen, still impressive but i think they even coulda done it faster and with even more passion.  Mebbe AI will one day help them do that.

Cover the bases. (Watch the Royals, they do a Cliff Notes version.   Cover a lot of ground.  Cover your tracks.  From cover to cover.  Don't judge a book by it's cover.   Blow one's cover.  Cover letter.  Cover charge.

That should cover it.

Cover your ears, I'm gonna sing it. WELL SHAKE IT UP BABY!

Cover, as in run for.......

 Tune in tomorrow as the plan is to compare the lyrics of Alice's Restaurant to those of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida

Happy day... and happy Birthday Terry Hahn!  

Choices.........

 Me, me, me.  Sorry.  How are you?

Yesterday, two in our golf foursome were unable to play. Should we go ahead and play?  Sure, choice #1. 

Did. Fun. Cruddy front nine, back, just a tad better, medium crappy. A beer and convo on the deck after, the choice was Miller Lite.  It tastes great, and friend John thought it too was less filling.

Age, inactivity, a whole lot of sun, a beer, and, hey, I'll grump, it's legal at my age - affliction, all combined, tired me out.

I was in bed - the choice of my upper eyelids (they kept trying to greet, say hello to the bottom eyelids.) very early. I had no choice to hop in bed way before the NY Yankees were comfortably ahead of our beleaguered Kansas City Royals. 

If I were a Sport's Writer for the Kansas City SNL News, I'd login as Victor WonderfulWhiner to say, "the hell do you expect?  Yankee payroll $336 Million, Royals, $146 Million."  Readers of said SNL rag would write in and say "We gots choices... can the manager, buy us a real good outfielder, move so-and-so up/down/out of the lineup... new hitting, pitching coach, it's the GM's fault, move 'em to downtown Nashville."  Eh, you know, fanatics.

I had choices when I awakened. I gots to be at work at 5:30am.  Retirement, ha.  Coffee, mandatory.  Newspaper, eh, come what may.  Read (and weap) over Royals, skip all the way too many KU articles... more on the paper in a sec...

I've got a really cool pump that massages my legs.  Victor?  Who cares?  My legs do! Whilst I DID awaken shortly after 3am, all them choices above... leave no room for the pump now - I look forward to it once I get home - as, I'm choosing to blog now.

Why?

Once again, I read the obits.  Chose to.  The first one I opened (only two today thank goodness).. I bawled.  Beautiful, not quite middle age lady.. wife, mom to three littles...melanoma - way too soon.  The obit writer captured the persona of her life... a giver.. loyal.. fun.. Social Worker who put that on the back burner to raise three littles.  Too. Damn. Young.  Once again, guilt sets in.  It's so hard to 'look 'em in the eye' because, one shouldn't have to read an obit of one younger, in this case, a lot younger... it just ain't right.

It jolts life in perspective.

Who gives a rats about sore muscles from golf. Golf scores. How much off my debit card went to fill my car to drive to the course.  Who cares about Major League payrolls... what pitch to throw, when, in the count.  Baseball is a carousel of swapping players, coaches, front office folks.......... real life it taking in the wonder of the carousel and seeing the plug pulled out and it comes to a forever, ne'er to circulate again, stop.

Looking in the mirror - I remind me I'm damn lucky to be writing, walking, talking, living.  We don't really call the shots (choose) when that's not going to be the case ----------------------------------

so..........once again, life still lends us the choice of how to face it.  Kindness. With smile.  Arm around.  Hugging.  Complimenting.  Appreciating what I got, not, what i ain't got.

I am very glad you are able to read this today for it means you as well still have choices.   It sucks that dark reminders relate how short life is here. The 'ya never knows' of it all.

Tears are ok, for, they are to be wiped away.. face cleansed.. .with smile, just as those that have passed before us would love for us to do.  Carry on, give smiles for, on behalf of, them.  They can't - we certainly can and assuredly might as well.

 Love, Victurd 

Liberty Sports

 Nathaniel Semple grew up in Liberty and earned his undergraduate degree at William Jewell College before attending medical school at Washington University in St. Louis and doing post-graduate studies in Germany and Paris. He played singles and doubles tennis at the 1904 St. Louis Olympics.

 

Otto “Jaybird” Ray—a former Negro Leagues ballplayer who lived in Liberty, Missouri until he passed away in 1976.

Ray was born in Lexington, Missouri (1893) and played in the Negro leagues at a time when Black athletes were barred from Major League Baseball. A tough, versatile catcher/outfielder, he played for teams including the Kansas City Monarchs, Chicago Giants, St. Louis Stars—and he even managed the Cleveland Browns in 1924.

Come experience this history in person: See the newly dedicated Otto “Jay Bird” Ray Black Baseball Room (named for Clay County’s only Negro Leagues ballplayer), plus additional exhibit rooms, as well as the Clay County African-American Legacy Art Gallery at the Garrison School Cultural Center and Museum. 502 N. Water Street, Liberty, MO.

 

https://www.seamheads.com/NegroLgs/player.php?playerID=ray--01ott

 

https://www.facebook.com/reel/1611400330143726

 

https://www.wjcfootball.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/12/1980-Mid-America-Nazarene-Game-Program.pdf (First WJC football game 1888)

 

 

K.U. Basketball trivia for the day: The first intercollegiate basketball game in the state of Missouri was played at William Jewell College in 1899 against the University of Kansas, coached by James Naismith the inventor of basketball. The two coaches were good friends.

Jewell lost

 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlie_Lee_(American_football_coach)

 

Ron Hall

 

Scott Carroll 

 

Bill "Pee Wee" Summers

 

1968 William Jewell Baseball National Champions

 

Larry Holley

 

Liberty Wall of Honor (Last updated 2015) 

 

The Dueling Pistols......... 

https://bvmsports.com/2022/07/25/reliving-the-dueling-pistols-game-rivalry-between-liberty-and-excelsior-springs-football/?fbclid=IwY2xjawSDy_1leHRuA2FlbQIxMQBzcnRjBmFwcF9pZBAyMjIwMzkxNzg4MjAwODkyAAEeniaHe-l0ZqRhZOOmrtzfjsUnAWw7k8dkH4xN_mEXTeOxc72LSlNmVW9U1Zw_aem_HxqLQF8SpYk2ImZQ7xkjcw

 

 

  

 

 

 

Too deep...........

I'm weird, but, that's a given. In life there are collectors.  Coins, stamps, baseball cards, LP albums, video games, action figures, and money.

Me?  I, oddly, 'enjoy' reading obits, collecting memories of folks and their lives, is fascinating.  It's little to give in one's life - to not have known them, but, to dedicate two minutes to read five or six paragraphs depicting who, what, where, when of their footsteps here.

 I can just see mine.  "He played TOO MANY softball games."  I know, by that time, I'd be too damn stiff, or, perhaps "to everything, urn urn urn" by then, I'd be unable to raise an arm and holler "BS", but, would if I could.  How'd Bill Medley say it? "Now I've, had, the time of my life.."

"TOO DEEP" is a saying by an umpire...  a slopitch umpire (and I never really knew, know how to spell slowpitch slow pitch slopitch and don't care).. but, when a ball travels over the plate, but, too far back to be a strike, he hollers "TOO DEEP."  It was a friendly saying to fellow simpletons who played too many games as well.  Oh well.  Scroll to raised arm, BS, I had the time of my life.

NOW, when I look at obits, anytime I see an obit of someone born after me, it's "NOOOOO!  TOO YOUNG!"........  Watching the news, I have extreme difficulty looking at pics of fallen policemen/women, soldiers.. NO!  SAY IT AIN'T SO.  NOT FAIR. DIDN'T DESERVE. WHY?  The same (I can't look) when a child is involved, be it a stray bullet from one they didn't even know, or, at the hands of domestic abuse, aka, killer.  It's all, too deep.  As for pics of killers.  I can't look. The Good Book speaks to judgment, hate.  Too hard for me.

Rearrange this blog Victor, we no likey. Thanks, me neither.

Too fun:  Dogs. Cats. Good friends. Firepits. Barn doors open. Nylon undies static clung to a dress. Unintended farts. Hot chocolate/winter day.  Cold beer/hunnerd out.  Relatives.  Cars that start.  Every successful 'trip' over three inch 'ledge/divider' tween bathroom floor and shower.  "Can't wait to hear" after name you like pops up on caller ID.  Compliments, both directions. Smiles, whenever, however for whatever reason.

Howabout Goldilocks?  Porridge too hot, too cold... chairs, too big, too wide... bed... too hard, too soft.  Sometimes, just right happens.  

So, in our quest for finding, sucking up good - we dive into the pool.  Careful, can't be too shallow.  We make, keep friends, unless, we find one a bit too shallow.  In a casual setting with friends, we pick a place to sit.  If we find one that is........ too loud... talks a bit too much... talks about folks that ain't there too much... are 'right' too often (a hunnerd percent in their brains) next time, we choose not to sit anywhere close to them. Live, learn.  Ain't that what life's about? 

In spitea you basta's (said too lovingly) occasionally calling me a misogynist, I'd MUCH RATHER sit within a group of ladies...say... like, after golf, than to sit, visit with the same ole fuddy duddy guys I grew up with.  Aside from 'much more appealing to look at', funner to listen to.  One thing though I've noticed, and yes, I've prolly said it before.  After us fuddy duddies finish golf of Mondays, the ladies league is by then gathering on the back deck to play.  Twenty or so of 'em.  I LOVE IT.  Fun to watch, listen, say 'howdy'. I will say though, if there's twenty of em, seemingly, twenty of 'em are talking. which, tells my brain "too many" and, asks, who's then listening? 

Retirement is ALL ABOUT "Too".  Hey, that's too many small chocolate donuts (who cares), you've already slept 8 and half hours today and it's only noon (who cares, watch me nap).. You're forgetting you're on Social Security, you've overspent this month, put your (billfold/purse) back, who cares, my grandchild wants it, I'll figure it out later. 

Too tired.  Sounds like 'too much fun', LET'S GO!  Too far to drive (we'll Uber then, split the costs).  Too late, can't.  BS, Get up offa the couch, let's go you can sleep till noon if you want.

Sounds too dangerous..  Shuddup and put your seatbelt on.  But, but, but, what if the parachute packer has a bad day?

I fall in love too quick. No, you fall in infatuation too quick.  It's when that parachute don't open you fall too quick, oops.

Too cold. Wear a jacket.  Too many steps. Take the elevator. Too loud, wear earbuds.  Bad neighborhood, what if we get lost?  We gots GPS.

The Royals have lost TOO MANY this year, I don't wanna go.  Shuddup, go to the closet, grab your Royal's shirt.  It's too small now.  We'll go to Rally House, get another.  Cost too much.  We'll go to dead people's store, get another, I'm buying.  It's too far to walk.  Hush, bring  your handicap placard, we're on the front row.

Thirteen dollars a beer?  THAT'S TOO MUCH.  Quuuiiisssshhhhh, man that tastes good.  Just one or two though. Don't worry, long time "too many."  Besides, I already walk funny, don't needs me no beer to do that.

The Golden years.  Too fun. Everything, our beck and call.  Too many dadgum good friends to meet, see, talk to them all. Try your best. Text, message, call, go see.

I owe tooooo much to you all for being here, reading.  It makes writing, fun.  There is sooooooooooooooo much good in life.  Too much to see, not enough time to do so............but by golly, let's try.

Forward by Desmond Too Too

Were you aware too too (tutu) means Grandma in Hawaiian? Too fun.  Victor, you tell 'em, we'll decide if too fun or not.

Too deep.  I'm getting a lifejacket.

Love, Victurd 

 

There ain't no emotion in sports...........

Hi, and apologies (I guess) for once again spinning this blog towards sports.   It's maybe all I know, like, which, is maybe why in life I find myself a hollerin' to whateverhername is in life "HEY!  Come back here!"

I read the Sport's page (hey, not even finished yet) and I cried.  THERE. How is that?

Yes, there's the tragic loss of Kyle Bush, 41 year old Nascar driver - but, I hadn't even made it to that part of the paper.

Dander. Up. Distaste in mouth.  Kansas City Chief receiver Rashee Rice, ALL the talent in the World....all the decision making skills of a Jerry Springer audience member. (Nutshell, a couple years ago now, he wrecked a rented car in Dallas, was driving 117 mph, lost control, wrecked, hit another car..... occupants of the other car needed medical assistance..  Rashee walked away.  A recent 'hint' of domestic abuse - and who knows on that stuff but it does make one wonder... and then the most recent.. .tested positive for THC which, is a violation of his probation.  So, he's in jail, will miss an early mandatory 'OTA' camp.  Dear boys and girls, "This is the way not to do it."

Turning the page, which, in today's E edition of newspaper, means, clicking the arrow for the next page, or, pressing the touch screen if you don't mind possibly getting grape jelly on the screen.  (How come everything that tastes so good is so dadgum sticky?)

Lucas Erceg, KC Royal's baseball pitcher, and the story behind '6/10/20' written in magic marker on his baseball glove. It's pretty commonly known around these parts, the 6/10/20 is Lucas's date of sobriety.  In town to visit, record, Lucas - the Vice President of a State of Kansas behavior healthcare entity, Mirror Inc., and, along with him, the 9th ranked heavyweight boxer of the land. Each, equipped with their own redemption story. They had noticed the date on the glove - and surmised it's meaning.

Lucas willingly participated - and video will be taped, spliced. used and seen by over 20,000 people in Mirror's treatment centers and jail programs.  He was specifically nabbed to show that 'those needing assistance' come from any, all walks.

Blogger note.... I ain't real sure howinthehell you denote, annotate, whatever, whichever article these excerpts came from, ie, I plagiarize. . Theys all in the KC Star, fork up $9.99 a month, you too can get 'em, but, be warned, them suckers raise your rates without telling you, and if you pay no attention to your bank account, the rate goes from a fingernail to the whole damn arm in six months or so.)

The ugly of Lucas's story.  Not a great childhood.  Drinking started in High School.  Continued through the adulation of the "nothing can go wrong on or off the field" thanks, basically wholly, to athletic prowess, lack of discipline, 'life GPS'.  It continued, escalated, though every minor league town on the path.

6/9/20, the day before the date written on his glove - he sat 'in a haze' by 37 empty beer cans and his PlayStation. His then girlfriend Emma, told him she was leaving Arizona to go back home to Cali, and, she wasn't returning if he was still drinking in a few weeks..

The pretty/good of Lucas's story.  Then girlfriend Emma is now wife Emma.. oh, and they added a beautiful daughter, Elsie Marie. "my everything, man" Lucas proclaims. Objects in the rear view mirror may be closer than appear - and that's certainly the case for Lucas.  His initial withdrawal was a horror with cold sweats, body functions grappling with hydration.  "It never gets easy, but it gets easier."

A test was, after the Royals defeated the Baltimore Orioles in the Wild Card Series, sprayed champagne accidentally landed on  his lips. "Nope."  Puckered up even harder, "not getting in."

Click that arrow, next story.  It's the one I cried on.  Uh huh, the lineup card exchange that happened between the Red Sox and the Royals.  Victor, you're an idiot, WHY would you cry over that?  Well...

Hey, first.. did you know newspapers added video in the form of X?  I was like, "wahl I'hl be damned."  The video showed the Red Sox third base coach...  Norman Rockwell couldn't painted it any better... EXACTLY what you'd think a 3rd base coach looked like.... hat, shades, grizzed face with stubbled whiskers, a build that looked like he'd been thru one too many Golden Corral buffet trips...  You cried over that Victor?  No... patience...

The coach's son works behind the scenes for the Royals - in scouting. 20 something, also painted succinctly by Rockwell in the X video.  Insteada normal Royal's coach bringing out the lineup card, coach's son was dudded up in Royal's gear.. HE, was there to give the umps the card, meet in the circle. While it wasn't as cool or unsuspecting as a military mom or dad getting home from, say, Afghanistan or similar, sneaking up on their child, hugging... but... the dad (grizzled coach) kinda lost it... pounded his chest with his fist - looked to the Royal's dugout as if to thank them, then, of course, big hug with son.  That, that brought a tear.  Make fun however you wanna!

Click the arrow.

If old Norman Rockwell was given 'structions to sit at the easel and paint 'Perfection", it might look like #15 of the Kansas City Chiefs. OF COURSE I'm biased, but this much I can tellya, as a man, he's a leader.  In however many years we've had him here, only two times have I questioned him... Once, Super Bowl parade, obviously one too many Coors, eh, ok.. and two, screamed at a player on the sideline... mighta been warranted, who knows. 

He's respectful. In glory he deflects the praise to his teammates.. admits his own errors.. never verbally disparages an opponent, takes responsibility when things go wrong... all in all, a joy.  Fans of other teams hate him, which, to me, tells me, again, we're lucky.

I've built this up too much, sorry.  Mahomes had very serious surgery to repair an ACL and LCL in mid-December.  Certain, Vegas has betting odds on will he (or not) start the very first game.  There is worry of a tweak, a twist, a hit, yada... but GM Brett Veach put it pretty darn good when he said "Needless to say, he's way ahead of schedule.  I think the biggest challenge we're going to have is protecting him from himself."  That's it Victor?  Uh huh, bite me, it oozes of accolades and thanks.

There ain't no emotion in sports.

OK, I'm off.  Now that I got ESPN again, I'm gonna go watch a 30 for 30 on Chris Herron.  He's a former NBA player who overcame cocaine/heroin addiction and now travels to speak to NBA teams about it...   His last dabble with it, found him lying in a back alley in Vegas. He'd learn that day his family left him.  He'd been robbed.  The only thing on him was a pawn shop receipt where he'd pawned his son's PlayStation.

There ain't no emotion in sports.

God I love this land, and you.  Thanks for the tears.

Love, Victurd 

After 70, the happiest people do these 7 things every day..............

OK, I bit.  ie, I gave in.  I listened.  Twas a 30 minute video (I got twelve 'atta boy' points for staying awake.   "Simple, easy things to do for folks after 70, to help make you happy."

1.   First thing when you awaken, show gratitude.   I am SO SO glad the Royals are in first place.  They aren't? Well, at least the Presidential election is in November.  It isnt'?  At least that lady in Apartment #1 started using doggy poop bags. DAMNIT, I knew i shoulda worn shoes when I went to get a packa smokes outta my car.  OK OK, thank you for this day.

2. MOVE!  I AM!  Can't you see me hopping to the dadgum bathroom to shower and get this friggin' dog crap off my foot?  OK OK, when I get out I'll do push-ups.. or, maybe thumb circles, something.  HEY, I found these elastic bands.. I'll do 20 of em... 2, 4, 6, 8...OK OK 1, 2, 3, 4............................

3. Spend time outside getting sun.  Remember the trip to the car?  OK, I'll ride my geezer scooter to get a six pack.... OK OK, I'll grab my 'you ain't breaking this one, 300 lb capacity lawn chair..........sit a spell..  BUT, I ain't petting that lady's damn dog.

4. Spend time with people.  Touches.  Hi Melissa, get that damn dog away from me... Hi Amed, yessir, Natty Light is perfect...  OK, I'll text both nieces to tell them I love them and then I'll listen to how they kicked my rear in Wordle.

5. Keep your mind active and curious.  I JUST got destroyed in Wordle...Curious.. hmmm.. why would ANYONE wanna work at Hamburger   Mary's? I write a blog, there.. Stick that one up your Funk and Wagnall.

6. Simple, nourishing meals.  Ow-ow-ow-ow, (<- supposed to sound like Horshack) WOW, I'm rolling to Cascone's, the BEST lasagna this sidea Armando al Pantheion! And, they have Modelo Negra, the best!   Well, it is 20 miles round trip, and gas is $4.29 a gallon, maybe I shouldn't.  Chili Cheese Fritos it is.  I've got a medium size bag put away. No?  OK, I've got a box'a thin mints stashed in the freezer.  Just one (box) won't hurt me. OK, Kale it is. How doya cook that crap?

7. End the day with peace, not regret.  OK. First, jumping on Facebook for a bit.  Surely there's a good conversation or two going on... let's see.. here's one on DOJ slush funds.. .no?.. ..Here's a post by a single parent looking to see if someone can help.. that oughta be gratifying,  you know, pay it forward folks.  WOW, he said that?  She called him WHAT?  I might as well have Googled old Miller Lite "Taste Great - Less Filling commercials.    OK OK.  I'll give peace a chance... and I guess I don't regret not wearing shoes to the car..  'cause, I decided after to go get a pedi..  Wonder if it still smelled?

SEVENTY is cinchy.  I can hardly wait until 80... you honey?

Victor?  Yes?  You got divorced in 2005.

 Oh yeah, sorry.

Love, Victurd 

96 Tears.........

Which, of course EVERYONE knows was by Question Mark and the Mysterians.....

Alex, I'd like "Song titles that ask a question for $200 please."  Tain't Alex no more, may he RIP, it's that Ken guy that won big bucks on a contest some years ago... so here ya go": 

What's Up?   (Nothing but the rent............. well.... and ground beef... and...   gas prices...  minor stuff)...

Where's My Mind? (Depends on your age, sex)  Little girls, Barbies. Little boys, Army guys, ballgloves.. Young moms:  Supper, laundry, lunches for kid's tomorrow.  Young dads: "Did you like those flowers I brought got you?"  Middle age moms: Bunco, girl's night out.. Middle age dads:  gutter.  Old moms and dads:  "We're not sure....  probably Depends."

Should I Stay or Should I Go?  Life is short, go.

What's Goin' On?  George Strait.  Iran. That other Strait.  Basketball/Hockey Playoffs. Baseball Ray.  THE. WORLD. CUP.  Would you like ICE with that Pepsi?

Why Can't I Be You?  You don't wanna be.

Who Are You?  Bond, James Bond.  Dr. Roboto.  My name is Slim Shady. My name is Forrest Gump. People call me Forest Gump.  I'm Bart Simpson, whothehell are you?

Why Can't This Be Love?  Please just Uber me to the Airport, my flight leaves in an hour.

Why Can't We Be Friends?     46.  47.  Were you on that one cruise ship?  I'm not a great fan or people.

Do You Want To Dance?  Yes. No. Let me think on it, I'll give you an answer in the morning.

 Where Did You Sleep Last Night?  64068.  What's sleep?  In the jungle, the mighty jungle.

Are You Lonesome Tonight?  One time, in band camp........

Have I Told You Lately (That I Love You?)  Just get me to the damn airport, and what's your badge # btw?

Why Does It Hurt When I Pee?  Frank Zappa you are disgusting, and did they actually play that on the radio?

Do You Hear What I Hear?  At one time, I did have tinnitus, but Mr. Miagi helped me get it out.

Why Don't We Do It In The Road?  I KNEW I shoulda called Lyft.

Are You Ready?  Wife "Five Minutes"..... Hubby "OK, I'm gonna go play 9 holes, back soon."

Where Does My Heart Beat Now?  Well Honey, I hate to break it to you.. but, remember that boob chart we've been doing for years on the door facing?

Ain't That Peculiar?  No, it's Raymore, they run together.

Does Your Chewing Gum Lose It's Flavor On The Bedpost Overnight?  Ahm, it's Fixodent, but, no, it doesn't.

Is That All There Is?

Something tells me I'd better not answer that.  Besides, I'm leaving on a jet plane... and with diesel fuel what it is, don't know when I'll be back again.

Love, Victurd