Here......... lemme help........

OK, today boys and girls we're going to talk about......... What to do with our time in retirement! Exciting stuff eh?

Looking around, Romper Room style....... I see Pup, and Terry...  (These are really the two I'm pretty certain that read here daily... I'm a bit behind in paying them because it's Winter and I ain't working at the Golf Course when it's Winter... so... consider, "Checks in the mail", sometime.

Oh and I know Liz, Vicki, Bear, Randy, Pie, some others.........  Of course David, California David.

By now, most of us have been retired a bit.  Still, we got some friends that ain't yet... so maybe they'll need a little advice, or, perhaps we all can lean on the intensive advice/research I gathered in the time between my first pee and second pee this morning.  See? Intensive time spent.

Now, California David, he's a different bird, but said lovingly.  He plans to continue flying (working) until whenever... and, after all'a this research, should we find a nap suggested, well, it ain't him. "I'll sleep when I keel" i thihk I remember him stating.  He's got three huge hound dogs that would scare the heck outta burglers, BUT, he's Lionel Ritchie awake ALL NIGHT LONG, so, the dogs must be for entertainment insteada protection.

Back to what they say you should do. Oh, I guess me too.  You know me, I plagiarize, but trust me, rather than list article writers here, I've recorded them....they'll be in an envelope on my desk labeled "When I keel", along with Ash Instructions (The Dumpster), the combination to the bicycle lock on my geezer scooter and the Title on my (nifty) 2002 Buick Century.

One author says "Happy retirees have an average of 3.6 core pursuits (fulfilling activities) and unhappy retirees have 1.9." So, start with a morning routine writing down goals. "It sets the tone and builds momentum for the rest of your day and takes advantage of increased willpower to accomplish your goals and establish habits."  So, I guess you write 'em down and post 'em somewhere.  Didn't say nothin' about the wife or hubby following behind to ensure you fulflil them core pursuits, but, I imagine that to be the case.

Anudder site suggested "Start with a light morning stroll.. while doing so, you can work out a bit.... and, practice breathing techniques for better mental health."

Same author said nights can lead to fatigue and exhaustion from dailly errands and obligtations, so, "make your evenings purposeful... you should simply write down a few things you're going to do every evening... for example... a daily reading session from 6p to 7p every day.  Follow it.

(I'm happy for all these suggestions... I was wunderin' what I was gonna do with all this time.)

"You'll want your typical day to factor in activities that work your body and your brain.... 150 minutes of aerobic activity per week and two muscle strenghtening activities per week."

Nudder guy "When having no schedule threatens an aimless existence with nothing to do and no places to go, daily routines can renew a senior’s joy and purpose.”

Yet, another says Get Help: "you may also consider speaking to life care planners in healthcare teams who can provide guidance on maintaining your well-being during this transition. They can offer insights on managing your health, staying active, and finding fulfilling activities that align with your interests and goals."

Going back over this... some key words from my study... daily routine critical to success... start planning and thinking how to spend time..  after awhile, you may miss the sense of identity, meaning, and purpose that came with your job, the structure it gave your days... expand your circle of friends, consider learning a new language.'

Print this retirement planner. 

What did ole Carol Burnett usedta sing during the credits?  "I'm so glad we had this time, together."

Now... you know, if you smoke, you shouldn't but, you'll already have a lighter so that's good.  If you don't smoke, I suggest you purchase a lighter... might get onea them long ones for the barbeque grill.........  Then..........

Take this page that you printed, and your lighter, outside. Go somewhere where you're standing on concrete.

Then burn this sucker and do whateverinthehell you want in retirement.

We don't need no retirement education.  We don't need no thought control.  No dark sarcasm in the classroom.  Hey, Authors, leave us OG's alone.

Tonight, I'm thinking about a vegetarian night...... No meat.  Just pudding.  Then, I'll sweep up the ashes from the concrete.  Then, go to bed when I wanna, laddy.

Love, Victurd

DON'T.......................... Stop...............

Sooooooooooooooooooooooo, Fido (or Brownie, Gabe, Regal Beagle, Smokey Butterball, Nascar, any one of the number of hound dogs you'e owned)..... is laying next to you.... you start that scratch....  and at some point, you reach that spot (on Spot) where he/she starts "playin' the banjo", legs frantically 'running', it's involuntary, but by golly DON'T STOP!.

I thought about (aye yai yai, here we go) name-calling in today's society.  It's become, commonplace... 'representative'... typical......  frustrating... fingernail on blackboardish.. As common as the F-bombs at intersections of nearby cars with their winders down. I hate it... it divides even further... we ALL, I think... have friends on the other side/team/whadever. When we name-call, we succumb to "they" (all of ''em we're referring to, including our friends even without thinking) are IDIOTS, MORONS, BOOTLICKERS, LIBTARDS, RWNJ's, SNOWFLAKES, FASCISTS, COMMUNISTS,............ DON'T!!!! STOP!!!!

I really think..... if we could ALL just get over the name-calling hurdle this (I'm proud to be an American) would be a MUCH, MUCH, better place.  You goofballs.

Puberty is addressed by parents...... normally... as DON'T! STOP!  I've toldya, our house, the rule was "Finish everything you start, EXCEPT sex."  Don't! Stop!  We all... OK, most... have been there, when the parents ain't...  be it the den in the basement.. the back corner of the JC's Dance Hall ...the fitty-seven Chevy parked on the low road, the hormones are'a ragin', movin' faster'n a foosball puck or Fido's runnin' legs........ and, DON'T! STOP! becomes DON'T STOP!  (No idea about until the end of time.)

Gambling, Don't! Stop!

Smoking, drinking, pain pills, mara-g-wanna, vapes, DON'T! STOP!

In our treks of life down the yeller brick road, we oft times along the way meet folks who wanna fix us... some call 'em know-it-alls.. or.. .control freaks... they opine everything  either DON'T STOP........ or DON'T! STOP!  We, folks, tend to react either to not react (some would call that "cower", VICTOR, don't! Stop! That's name-calling. Oh, sorry)....... or, we risk losing any kinda relationship with the fixers, know-it-alls, control freaks and we ultmately holler DON''T! STOP!  WHEW, I feel better... or... darn, I didn't say nuttin', I feel sh*tty.

I catch myself (no easy task at 200+ pounds.. how many plus Victor? BITE ME).. I catch myself NOT GOING somewhere when invited, simply because it's easier, I'm older, ain't got the energy I usedta have..  We can't do that. DON'T STOP!  Or, DON'T! STOP doing that. Git urass up and go. If ya don't go, you die.  (Reckon we oughta take that advice even if it's from a fixer, know-it-all, control freak, Libtard, or bootlicker...   oops, sorry!

As I sat, planning, thinking about my own upcoming Summer... thru my brain the thoughts I dont think I'll golf unless I'm able to use a handicap flag (where i can drive right up to my golfball). .Don't Stop Victor.

I wanna take my grandkids somewhere cool.  A beach, first time ever, via a plane, first time ever.  One look at money I've set aside for this, DON'T STOP saving Victor.

Music.  Live music.  We have a really cool outdoor venue here in Kansas City. Starlight Theater.  Many, many wonderful times, concerts of the past.  I went online recently.  WHO. ARE. THESE. GUYS?  Victor?  You're hella old.  Stop name-calling me!  The bands you grew up with, what you call The Greatest Generation of Music... They don't do dat no more. Not many anyways.  The message here, git ridda your damn hard head (Don't! Stop!) and give youth, new music, a listen.  Ya just might enjoy.

I wonder if they still have JC dances?  You're hopeless Victor.  NAME-CALLER!  DON'T!  STOP!

Well, I'm gonna smoke a cig...  turn off Tamron Hall (I usedta love her, man, seems she yells quite a bit)...  have a bowl of cereal......... Victor, Don't! Stop!  Fatty!  NAME-CALLER! OK, OK, no sugar tonight in my coffee... no JC dance (no sugar to stand by me)...

Waking up is a blessing.  Don't stop the will or the want to.  One foot after the other.  If ya forget how, have a scratch on Fido's back, he'll learnya. 

Me? I may go Spotify '90's music', learn me sumpin' new. Gotta craving to play Foosball, may do that too.

Don't stop living.

We enjoy you here.

You goofball.

Love, Victurd

I is the 9th letter of the alphabet.....

Let me tellya 'bout the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees 

And the moon up above, and a thing called love........

No, damnit, that ain't it.  I'm sorry... I get confused early morns.... It seems like Groundhog Day was just yesterday......  No.........hang on.  Or is it today?  Again.....

VICTOR?  Sit up in your chair..... take a swig off coffee...  shake your head left and right like a dog who just got outta the pond...... and TRY TO MAKE SOME SENSE.  I fear the Golden Acres Econoline Van will be coming to take you away, haha, they're coming to take you away, ho ho, hee hee, ha ha to the funny farm where life is beautiful all the time, EXCEPT, they also take your car (Nope, scratch the Landing for two beers)...Your money.. (My money, honey?)..  Your cigs... (NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!)

OK, I'm shakin' like Rin Tin Tin just got outta the tub again.

GOOD. Now, xplain Lucy...... "I is the 9th letter of the alphabet."

Oh, that.  That's for a teacher lady I went to college with that occasionally swings by here... and, a first cousin who retired as an English teacher for many a year (she's my go to)... but... BOTH OF 'EM say "You CANNOT start a sentence with "I is."  I just did.

I is the 9th letter of the alphabet.

Yeah, so?  And  your point is?

I is fat.  (AND, this, this is where, when I write THIS blog, it's my hope hope hope they 'come along'... and look at their own lifes lives, body, habits, that stuff.  They, being YOU, not the teachers.. well, they can too for that matter... 

I seen... sorry teachers... I saw.. I saw a picture of me from two years ago.  I love me some Mehican food.  SO.  I was going to Mehico.  For four, maybe five months prior, I said hell-to-the-no on carbs an sugar, so, that when i got there, i could eat whatever whenever.  I dipped under 200 lbs, and I ain't been that since... well, since onea them wives. But, once in Mehico, sure, another taco please and thank you.

You ever do anything like that?  Are you lucky and ya ain't gotta?  Are you like me (now) and, ya care but ya don't really care?

I won't go as far as saying I looked good, nope.  But (teacher, can you start a sentence with but?) I looked healthy. Now, I is fat.  And not healthy.

OK, let's talk exercise.  You?  Do yoi get up every morning, seven days a week and, after a cuppa coffee, march out the door and continue marching for 4 miles daily?  If so, I hate your guts. Not really, but kinda I guess.  Maybe it's more envy.

I've got a baby affliction and I simply can't do 4 miles any longer.  Victor, hogwash, even when you could, you didn't.  HEY! Who let you in!!

DO YOU EXERCISE REGULARLY?  Don't lie to me. I've known ONLY one person in my life who has exercised continuously since high school.    My BFF does.... or did, what with kids, grands, divorce, yada, we don't speak, see each other as often.... but, i know he usedta run up the steps at the old high school 5 times a day, daunting task, lemme tellya. (In addition to lifting weights, probably eating healthy, yada).

Do you like good music?  No, wait.  WHICH, do you think is more important?  DIET or EXERCISE?  Do they go together like a horse an carriage?  This I tell you brother, you can't have one without the other. No, WAIT.. hell, that was Al Bundy....... he's nuts (but I loved the show... especially when Marcie would flap her wings and say "WHY DOES HE ALWAYS CALL ME A CHICKEN?"

Chicken.  Ya eat a lotta that?  Are you a beef and tater only kinda person, and if so, you must have a good Edward D. Jones rep.  If you profess to fish, and, I know diet and exercise books rave about fish, i just can't do it.  And, perty please as I'm really old now, don't say "WHYINTHEHECK NOT VICTOR?  YOU SHOULD?  COULD?  HAVE YOU EVER TRIED IT?  Enter, upchuck here.  Sorry, not sorry.

90% of people who lose weight, gain it all back.  I is fat (again.) I is fat (again.) I is fat (again.) I is fat (again.) I is fat (again.) I is fat (again.) I is fat (again.) I is fat (again.) I is fat (again.) I is keeping it off. HOW?  HOW'D HE/SHE DO DAT?

 So come on, is it sweat, or eat, or both. 

Do you care?  Do you, have you, dedicated however many years to doing one or the other or both?

I wonder what a health professional would say?  Victor?  Uh huh?  You have a friggin' degree in Physical Education.  Hang on Sloopy, Sloopy hang on.  Hang on Sloopy, Sloopy hang on.

Sloopy let his hair down in college.  I loved college soooooooooooo much, I did both my sophomore and junior years, twice.  I remember having EAGLE eyesight back in the day, good enough to see three desks over, otherwise, I never woulda made it outta Anatomy and Kinesiology class alive.  Now, my batting average in intramural softball (HIGHLY IMPORTANT TO ME) was over 300...  ahm, GPA, not so much, barely above 2.

My math skills were The Bomb.... "OK guys... the keg was $47.98, we each owe $7.99666 and we should prolly give Smitty a couple bucks for gas..............."

But. I ain't no health expert.

You?

Fess up.  More stringent upon your own kids diet than you are when the grands come over?  Uh huh, what I thought.  But, they could end up fat like me?

(SIDE NOTE....... Victor, this is kinda dragging on, hurry couldya?  I gotta take on the day.  OK. Band camp, when I taught Elementary PE... I had 40 minutes of my day where I sat in my office and twiddled thumbs.  Principal said "Thinka something to do with that time." Soooooooooo TBC

I started a class for fat kids. VICTOR!  I, we didn't call it that. And, by the looks of everyone that was in the class (it wasn't a 'have to' do if you were selected)... but... baby fat. Each. All. At first, kids made fun, as expected.  Then, they witnessed how much fun we had, in addition to  food charts, exercise suggestions, implimentations.... they were beggin to get in the class.  I think, nowadays, if you tried something like that - I'd be repremanded at the next school board meeting.  Worked back then.  And, we did have fun.  Called the class "Project Zero."  The goal NOT to lose.. that weighs heavy, no pun intended... but.. .to stay the same weight, and, develop good habits both in eating and exercising.

Where was I?  Victor, it looked like you had one eye on that last piece of pecan pie in the fridge. Oh yeah, that.

Punx said yesterday "6 more weeks."  I anticipate way longer than that on...  "Say, hand me the Fritos wouldya.. and... EXERCISE?  Hell no I won't go."

I is fat.

It is what it is.

Do you like good music?  Fritos?  Oysters Patooey.  Push ups?  Planks?  Crinkled or seasoned fries, or tots?  Wegovy?

I appreciate you reading....... truly.

Love, Victurd

A Man Needs A Maid.......

MISOGYNIST!    AM NOT.   ARE TOO!  

No I ain't.  Last night I did what many, every, all, one and their brother say, don't do that.  What?  Don't do what? 

Live, or... better yet, remember - the past.  (Oh, and, this morning, I looked up howinthehell the saying "Everyone and their brother" originated, and even AI wadn't smart enough to have an answer... other than "full house, packed.. unexpected"....)   Who cares Victor, how did you live in the past?

1970-something.  I had a really small, really cheap, what I call 'record player'.  How cheap Victor?  It'd be like if Dollar General sold record players, that cheap.  I DIDN'T CARE. I loved it.

I never really bought too many albums - but, one I wore out.... and I mean, time after time after time wore out, Harvest by Neil Young.

We all have our favorite types, kinda music ain't we?  Yesterday I bitched about not being a fan of New Country....  Rap, Katy bar the door, no thank you.  And, before you think that, I am onea the biggest fans of Motown, EVER.

I tend to like (VICTOR, we really don't give a crap)... Ahm, my blog, you're stuck.  I tend to like mellow.  Acoustic.  Fleetwood Mac, James Taylor, CSN&Y... It's like... if a group of folks knocked on your door one December night...  they were staring up at you... holding candles to see the sheet music in fronta them..... I would not be very excited to look up and see the AC/DC Thunderstruck guy standing in the middle of the Christmas Carolers.   Soft please. James Taylor, Carole King, Billy Joel, The Eagles, Neil Young, YES.

We get it Victor, we've Harvested your thought so to speak.  Now what?

I dunno............ Did you ever own an album........ play it so dadgum much.... once a song ended, you were already singing the next song?  So, having wonderful memories of that... last night I sat and listened to the whole darn album.  It'd been a minute.

I think I'll pack it in and buy a pick-up..  Out on the weekend......

Dream up dream up let me fill your cup........... Harvest.

Victor, are you gonna write too about the whole damn album?  Mebbe.

A man needs a maid.  MISOGYNIST!  Am not... Sometime there ain't no rhyme or reason on song lyrics.... well, there's usually rhyme, but sometimes no reason.  Neil Young was in a hotel in London - there were two buttons on the wall.  Close inspection showed one was labeled ''Man" and the other, "Maid."  Intro to a life of overthinking eh?

Heart of gold.  I want to live. I want to give  I've been a miner for a heart of gold.  Many say "Oh, that was about Carry Snodgrass... He was in love with her.  They'd bought Broken Arrow Ranch together in 1970ish..a 140 acre place in the hills above Redwood City.

Are you ready for the Country?  I can just see he, and Carrie, unpacking their F-one fitty pickemup truck.

Old Man......Many thought this was about Neil Young's father, but, 4 minutes of deep investigation - huh uh.  Apparently, when you buy a big ole ranch like that back in the day... the caretaker to the ranch comes along with it.  The song is about his caretaker - and the love he had for the dude.  They were riding in the jeep, caretaker asked Neil how he could afford the place at such a young age..  "lucky'' was all he could come up with.  Caretaker and his wife had a little place across the lake.  Victor, who cares?  HEY, you ain't tied down here! (TBC)

Would you care to know who else sang on that song?  

Mebbe, but, I know you're gonna tell us anyways.  Uh huh, am.  Three sat on a couch. Young....... Linda Ronstadt, James Taylor.  Ronstadt would say "Taylor was so tall, I had to get on my knees to be able to sing into the microphone.  SEE?  If you hadn't tuned in today, you'da never known that.  Ahm, OK. Thanks, I think.

You're getting bored, maybe me too..  Just one more..  The Needle and the damage done.  Self explanatory, but, Young adds... early, I witnessed so many amazing artists who folks will never know how amazing, expire.  Then, sadly, some that people did know.

I'll stop.  A note about "Living in the past."  I know I do so, probably too much.  Like anything with aging, the less I care what others think abou that.  Good gosh if we didn't have the smiles from then (and all the other hours, minutes, months, weeks, years prior - it'd be no fun to carry on.  We're blessed to carry on, in large part because of the past.

Quick note to the crybabies (said lovingly) in Florida with their fireplaces roaring...... Sorry to report, Punx just forecasted six more weeks of Winter.  (I wouldn't want dangerous snow, sleet to happen, but I wouldn't mind seeing a 30 degree day in Mehico, too cold to sit on the balcony! SORRY, not really.)

I wonder if Bill Murray lives in Florida,

Go Harvest the day......... life's all about reaping what you done already sowed.

Love, Victurd

Oh. Boy. It. Teaches.

Established = I'm weird.

Documented (Boy oh boy is it Victor) daily routine.

Woke up  Fell out of bed.  If Mother Nature, bladder permit, coffee is made in route to the loo.  Pee.  TMI, but hey, you pee too.  Wordle, previously completed during one of the insomnia moments in the middle of the night.

Compare score (get my butt kicked) with youngest niece, who has gosh awful early awakened hours like me because her hubby has a Frito route. Daily Sudoku.  SPORTS Section.  Then finally......

Obituaries.

That's weird Victor.  Is it?  I absolutely DO NOT find enjoyment when someone physically departs this Earth...  but, I find there is a Peace at hand, lessons to be learned from the pen of those they left behind.

Calming.  A look back.  What did they do?  Was there a Why to it?  HIghlights?  Struggles?  ANYTHING WE CAN LEARN FROM THEM?  Anything we may applaud, emulate?

Uh huh, my take anyways.

"Her children and grandchildren were always confident in her unconditional love and respect.  She trusted our decisions, celebrated our successes, and held us together through our failures. We will miss you, Mom."

Far friggin' out ma'am.  Kudos.  "Trusted our decisions" my oh my if only that were universal.  "Celebrated our successes", I think, large part, we're all decent backpatters.  "Held us together though our failures."  Glue.  Not, "whyintheheck did you do that?"   Not, "I've told you time after time after time...."  Again, well done mom, granny.

And anudder.  Lifelong school teacher.  "Tough but fair.  Kept candles in his desk, coaxed cake from the cafeteria ladies to give to a child on their birthday.  Got to work an hour early to tutor students in need."  Today's teachers get a bad rap based upon minority complaints "Too many hours, not enough pay, buying things out of my own pocket" yada.  Well done Sir!

Next up.  "Spent one year at the University of Colorado... his love for the outdoors.. mountains.. the call of the Rockies... he became a self proclaimed "ski bum', living in 'Ed's Beds'', working in the attached restaurant to earn enough money to ski."  Trust me, more on this guy in a sec, he certainly wasn't done in life.

*** Skipping around a bit, NOT an obit, but a real life today story of a young lady. She happens to pour me Miller Lites in between her across the World gallivants. Reminded me of the beach bum guy. Three years ago, "I'm going to Breckenridge to teach snowboarding to kids." Do you know anyone there?  "No, but I've always wanted to do it. Applied last year, didn't get accepted, did, this time around, sharing an apartment with 3 others.  I'll seeya back in April...." TBC

April comes around. "Hey, how was Colo?" "Very cool, except I broke my collarbone... saving up again."  For?  "I've always wanted to learn how to surf.  I'm going to Hawaii to live in a hostel... learn"  Cool. Do you know anyone there?  'No. I'll be back come Winter."  Winter comes, :HEY, how was it?  "Awesome, thanks, and beautiful.  Back to saving up."  For?  "I'm going backpacking, hiking in Thailand."  With?  "By myself."  She's due back at any time, but my two cents here, how amazing... she explained to her folks "Everyone else gets to go off to college... I'll miss that... but these are things I want to do."  Is there a better education in life than something like this? AND, kudos to mom, dad for trusting her decisions and celebrating her successes.

Back to the 'beach bum' guy.  With perhaps a tug on the ear by mom, he returned to college. Enthralled with flight, joined the Navy.  Top of his class in flight school, the pick of any plane (F4 Phantom, fastest there was, twice the speed of sound.) Missions in Viet Nam.  The Naval Commendation medal with 'V' for actions involing personal hazard during combat (And much, more.)

If you are like me.......sometimes simply getting up off of the sofa is a big chore.  Not with this guy, back to the beach bum, and a 'condensed version of his life'... loved sailing. To the tune of the Bahamas to Bermuda, no cell phone, no GPS, the STARS. "Come on family, let's go."  Puget Sound, San Juan Islands, Virgin Islands, Intercoastal US waterways....... and, oh yeah, 35 years as a pilot for TWA which, included, being hijacked early in his career and concluded in the Captain's chair. (TBC)

Family.  Don't forget family beach bum.  He didn't.   Back to me being a simpleton.  A love for humor within life. This guy too.  "His goofy faces, noises, jokes, stories will all be sorely missed."  All passions involved the wind. The noise the Aspens make in the mountains, the wind for flight, for sail. the sometimes hot air of his jokes, the mouth to finger trumpet noise when he entered a room, and yes, the wind he demonstrated when he coaxed a grandchild to pull his finger.

These are just a few folks.  It's like this every day.  People who set the table in life for us.  People are amazing.  I know I'm weird in the obit thing but I'm huge in celebrating life, for learning of goodness, kindness, get up and go... and sure, levity.

"A great soul serves everyone all the time. A great soul never dies. It brings us together again and again." - Maya Angelou

Oh Boy It Teaches.

Love, Victurd

Inhale... exhale.....

Thankfully, that's the way I woke up.........and, that's the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it.

Still here.

Still crazy, after all of these years. 

Whaddya wanna talk about?  Don't waste your breath, you're there, I'm here, you can't reach the keyboard and I prolly wouldn't letya anyways (which, is fancy for "Eww, you wouldn't wanna, there's crumbs from the last 82 lunch/dinners I've eaten here"...  I'll clean my keyboard again this Summer... or... was it Fall I do that?  No, Fall is when I clean my car, must be Summer.

Funny, to me anyways, how one's brain travels.  

In Facebook news (aye yai yai... I know, sorry)... 

Was having a Chip chip cheerio convo about Minneapolis/ICE.  VICTOR, PLEASE DON'T!  Inhale, exhale, it'll be ok.  You know, it was wanna those convo's where not one damn thing will be accomplished, ain't gonna ain't gonna change no one's mind.... but... it was held.

My buddy said some stuff....  I said some stuff... it was perty cordial... then someone mentioned 'the orange guy, Nazi' yada, Ruh Roh... and someone (a gal I happened to have gone to school with) pigeonholed "Looney Liberals." He said, she said, he said, he said... then she (the gal I knew in school) said "Vic Schultze, you can't explain?"

Forgive me Father, I was a smartass.  "I'll try as I might.  It's tough when one is a looney Liberal ya know, as per your define, we all are. (Shoulda stopped there Victor, I know). Thanks (I redfacedly replied) I hope it somehow elevates you in saying that."

Victor Victor Victor.  I know.  And, I'm off my BP meds... Each, every time this happens (I can't keep my dayum fingers off the keyboard) I regret it.

What I REALLY wanted to say...... (VICTOR!  Don't do it!  Don't you realize you post this on FB and she ultimately will see it?)  Uh huh.  Inhale, exhale.  I was gonna say to her, the gal I went to school with "YOU'VE GOT BAD TASTE!".. and WHY Victor, WHY would you say that?  Because in 8th grade (she was in 7th), at the Plaza Theater, good ole Liberty, MO.. she kissed a looney Liberal.  I seen it.  In fact, ahem, I was sitting right next to her.

Holy S*... I know, what I thought.

THEN, that reminded me.  Band camp, a couple years ago. That big bar in Liberty. You know, the one with the really long tables... to where sometimes, there'll be two large parties at one table... and folks seemingly get along.  Uh huh.  OK.  I walk in, see my buddies, sit in the middle of this table...happened to be next to a gal, oh, mebbe ten years younger... she, in the other group at the table... (TBC, too longa paragraph)

I sit down.  She, looks at me astonished.  Disgusted.  Gives me the "you got cooties look", gets up, moves one chair over, and says something to the effect I would NEVER want anyone to think I was with him.  First thought, I know I ain't George Clooney, but I'd showered shaved, brushed my chops... then....... inwardly I asked myself "What's wrong with me?"...  then, anger showed up. I wanted to holler (kinda like I wanted to say up above there).. i wanted to holler "Look here B*"   But you didnt Victor?  Thought better of it?  Actually no, I didn't say nuttin' cause I feared that dude, 6'5", ever bit of 2-fitty pounds, sleeveless shirt, muscles on toppa muscles, sittin' across from her was her boyfriend...... and, that he'd turn me into Spam.  So I didn't say nuttin' else.  Wise.

Victor, WHAT is the significance to all this?  Maybe that.  I ain't sure i ever ever want a significant one again. I spent way too long on dating sites, at this age, it's like being at the Piggly Wiggly to pick out bananas, and they all got dark spots allover 'em (me included)..

Then, ya gotta find, hear, "what happened", kids, grandkids, where they grew up, where they lived...go to thumb twirling 'her family' meet ups....Ask, do you like good music, yeah yeah, that sweet sole music?  No actually I like new Country.  "Ahm, pass me another heapin' helpin' of that salmon wouldya" said Victor, NEVER.

Then, ya gotta figure out, well hell.... does the dude always pickup the tab?  It ain't 1975 ya know.  Early bird? Night owl?  Innie?  Outtie?  Now that might be fun learnin', VICTOR!

Anyways... I should be careful about what I type, PARTICULARLY in politic discussion.  I do enjoy going for two beers.  I've got to be careful where I sit. I don't wanna offend anyone, and I don't wanna spend ten bucks to listen to bass fishing stories of the dude next to me..  or, to be so old, the lady in the next chair turns her back to me the entire time (happens).. 

Victor......... maybe you could try the Library?  Or.... a bookclub... or a gardening group.  "Slide that tray of oysters over here wouldya?"  Nope, yuck, uh uh, sorry.

I'm old.  I'm frail. Ive got black spots. Affliction too has made it virtually impossible for Jack and Jill went up the hill. I prolly could do the fall down, break my crown, but, it'd never work.  Gitme my geezer scooter and stay the heck outta the way.

I've got my nieces... my grands.... my Fritos, corn on the cob, Ray Charles, Fleetwood Mac, Sports on TV... gambling.. VICTOR!  But I've been winning, I have I have.  Uh huh, sure Victor.

I've got my blog.

I know, I know, I'll get the hell outta here.  Nickelodeon is coming on.  SpongeBob and Patrick Victor?

No.......... Looney Tunes......

Love, Victurd

Golf in Chicago yesterday....... $21........ in weather below 32 degrees........

No, that doesn't compute... 

Come and listen to a story about a man named Jed, 

A 20 handicapper who prolly shoulda stayed in bed...

And then one shot he was aimin' at the green,

And up from behind, laughter could be heard and seen.....

OK, we weren't in Chicago.  It was below freezing.  We did golf.  We did pay $21 each....For January whatevertheheck date it was yesterday - time well spent.

Six of us, rented 'one bay' at a golf simulator in Pleasant Valley, Missouri of all places.

Quite the place...  whoda thunk in a commercially zoned warehouse district there'd be 'a golf course inside a lil bitty builing.'

Three LARGE 'Bays'.. each with a computer...  each with a BIG OLE Movie Screen-like thing....  Clowns to the left of me, sensors to the right, here I am, stuck in the middle and I suck at golf.

So it cost $42 an hour, total.  We rented for three hours, ($126 total, $21 per man.. fun.. well done.)

We hicks walked in....... stuck our necks out, had never seen such contraptions, gave it our best Ozark "Well Ahh'lll Be"..... All of us, 70-something, not one IT programmer among us.

That's fancy for, we couldn't figure out how to get started, in spite of trying our best with the instructions infronta us.

WHAT a business plan.  NO EMPLOYEES. Uh huh, honor system, codes to get in the door, timer on the machines so ya gotta stop when the time's up. It was pretty cool.

Back to 'no IT guys' among us....... we ended up having to bug the owner via the phone to get us started.. "Which here button do I press now?... and then?  Oh yeah.. Well Ahh'lll Be Durned, that worked!

T-Bird started us off first. He was 'the red guy'.  We were able to get him up to the White Tees (Blue are furthest back)... the rest of us, we couldn't figure out how to.  Mack is lefthanded, and we didn't know how to tell the computer that, so, it only recorded about 80% of his shots.

Me?  I was the 'pink guy'.  I think the basta's did that on purpose because I truly am the worst, and, I'm good with that.  Go.  Enjoy.  Here, ya don't lose golf balls.  Well, Mack did, somehow.  He topped one, it hopped over the big picture screen and somehow stuck back behind there.

In a lotta ways, it was like real golf. No idea why we picked a Chicago course..there were fancy ones the pro's play to choose from, as well as some local KC courses.

Ya take your own clubs.  Ya take your own beer.  Well, we did anyways.  We're 70-something, we're not gonna cause trouble, but, if there's golf, there's beer.  It's a rule, I think.

We had a couple of big hitters... hella loud noise upon impact, AND when it hit the screen.... it posted the swing speeed.. and, ya watched a 'red streak' of the ball just like them PGA guys on the Tee Vee as it rolled toward the green... and the distance meter thingy went 180, 185, 190, 195, 200, 202, 203, 205... finally 217.  For old farts, that aint too bad.  (Not me, I never came close to that.)

Their (my buddies) swing speed was twice that of mine too.  I liken it to how we, me, I, drive on the highways.  I always drive right lane, keep one car length per 10mph, never exceeding the speed limit, I get stared at (sometimes even honked at)..but thus far, I always get there... may be a few minutes after the others.. but I make it. (Fancy for, their speeds in excess of 100mph, me, fitties, sometimes 60's.)

There were swings and misses... shots at acute (or not so cute) angles...  one guy went in the woods...the computer screen was black... completely black... he just aimed for where he thought the green would be...... swung..... presto, perfect, the ball came out.

There were oooohs and ahhhh's... "Nice hit!(s)"...  "I Moody'ed it" (that was our beloved Moody, whenever he hit a bad, out of bounds shot, "I Moody'ed it", just like he does/says on the real course.)

It was pretty realistic, up to and including "Hey, the computer said i had a double bogey, I only had a bogey."  Oh boy, here we go (again.)

Whoever was furthest from the hole, it was your turn, just like real golf.  Sometimes, even after you hit, it would still be your turn (just like real golf.).. Laughter at that was permitted when that happened, even encouraged.

The three best golfers finally started betting a dollar a hole toward the end.  Me, hell to the no, scroll to "I suck, but I'm ok with that."

There was 'mean rough'.... ie, weeds hella tall that if you didn't get off the tee very far, you were in the weeds... or, if off course right or left, uh huh, tall weeds.  I lived there, but, thankfully, I always found my ball, i eventually always got out as the grass was forgiving to hit out of.  Water and sand traps too, but again, it was giving (the sand anyways... no one hit it in the water.)

That's pretty much it.  Six old dogs, a new trick, kinda.

Tune in next week when we may try one'a them newfangled "Breakout rooms"..  I'm takin' my phone and charger... hope they got USB ports.. I could just see us, a group of 6 simpletons getting stuck in there until St. Patty's day.  That'd be ok, (no jobs, understanding spouses) but I fear we'd run outta beer.

Have a happy day Gilmore........

Love, Pinky