Duke, Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl

Sorry, and disregard - was just going thru my brain... I like that part.  1961, Gene Chandler, whoeverintheheck he is.  I was 9.  Pretty sure I couldn't hit those bass tones, but, a hunnerd percent sure I tried.

Good Morning. Is it?

I reckon that all depends if we are Karen, Ebenezer Scrooge, you and or me at age 9, or mebbe even 9 year old John O'Leary.

Who's John O'Leary?

One sec..........

First, one more obit.

Victor, morbid. NO.

Sorry, gotta.

Lived until a couple weeks shy of her hundreth Birthday.  After HS, graduated college, then got her Master's in Speech Pathology.  Spent 20 years helping kids in school with their speech. THAT'S IMPORTANT!  Ya think not?  Howabout asking these folks who struggled as a child... Emily Blunt, Joe Biden, Samuel L Jackson, Tiger Woods, Nicole Kidman, Bo Jackson. Paycheck, but with purpose.

 Then, near and dear to my heart she voluntarily worked one on one with stroke victims to help them express themselves. No paycheck, with purpose. Then, she slid over to help Seniors with poems and short stories as they dealt with diminishing voice quality and volume.

She didn't do much besides that... well... she and her hubby did raise three of their own, and oh yeah, took in another... and..add to that, taught Sunday School, water-skied, tap danced, ballroom danced, played tennis, the gym, yoga, exercise classes. photography (had her own dark room), made sure and visited lifelong friends when they themselves could no longer get out...... and there's a lot, lot more.  SOME LADY!

Now, John O'Leary.

Who?

John O'Leary.  Remember?  The 9 year old? In a boys will be boys unintened accident at age 9, a gas can and a burning piece of paper got together and blew him across the room... semi conscious... burns over 100% of his body............ 1% chance to live.......

Live he did.  Thanks for a village.  A village that included, of course, his family... hospital workers, experts, Jack Buck........  WAIT?  Jack Buck?  THE Jack Buck?  Yes.

He was from the St. Louis area.  Jack had overheard Red Schoendienst talking about it (Red's relative lived nearby John).. That night, Jack went to the Hospital. And the next night. Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many prodded, championed John on... including Jack who told him, "You WILL walk, and, when you do, we're gonna have a John O'Leary day at the ballpark."  Did.

Fast forward... years, tears, struggles later - rehabbed houses in STL (quite a feat considering his fingers were burned off).. got up the gumption to ask his lady friend out.. she said 'no'.  Tried again (three times) No. No. No. A bit later, she then asked if they could still go out.  Marriage, kids, love, amazing.

Now..........he's a motivational speaker.  A renowned one.

Everywhere he goes now they ask him about his movie.  MOVIE?  Uh huh. It came out last year.  Rotten Tomatoes gave it an 80. "Soul On Fire."  Was Jack Buck in it, if so, wonder who played him?  Uh huh, and, ever heard of a guy named William H. Macy?  Uh huh, what I thought.. .one'a my favs too. 

John whittles things down to three basics.........

Uno....  Our life is a sacred, awesome gift.

Dos..  We get to choose our mindset in every situation, no matter how bleak it seams.

Tres.. Together, we can change the world.  Starting with our own.

SO VICTOR?

Yes?

You don't always address it.. but, through the cracks, we done seen comments about your geezer scooter..  poor poor pitiful me jokes(?)...   there HAVE been some blogs, you gotta admit, you seem mad at the world..  why me kinda stuff.  Yeah?

Ahm.......

Mebbe.

But, now that I think of it, that's why I'm here.  After the smoke clears.. (Bad pun John, sorry).. Through it all.... even my whiney butt (we've all heard the story of the boy who felt bad and wanted new Nikes, and the one who had a hole in his sole, and, the one that only had one shoestring, and, the one that only had hard shoes, no tenni's.. and, the one who had NO shoes... and then the one who had no feet.

Takes awhile to sink in...........but......... LIFE IS PRETTY DAMN GOOD. Yeah?  

Yeah.

Soul of Fire is available online.. it's like 6 bucks (7 if you count Jack). Much, filmed in our neighboring STL.  I'm a tightwad, I'm gonna check the library first. If not, then I'll rent. Crap, if I can pay 6 bucks for the NCAA Championship game, I can pay for something like that.

Life is good, and every nowandthen, I needs me a reminder. 

Duke, Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl Duke, Duke, Duke of Earl 

Wait for it.................

No. No. And, No.  It ain't whatya think.  There's no amazing surprise, funny story (you should know better if you thought that.), and fer sure no "I can't believe my eyes" story, picture, yada, at bottom.

Wait for it is........................  procrastination.  A struggle, I, (you?) deal with, day in, day out. 

All dogs go to Heaven, and all blogs start with Google, as in, what causes procrastination, how do we overcome it... and, funny NOT, first I gotta get mo' coffee.

"Procrastination is an emotional regulation problem, not a time management issue.  We choose immediate mood boosts over long-term benefits.  Overcome it by breaking tasks into small, manageable steps, reducing distractions and using temptation bundling."

Gee thanks, now I feel better said no one after such gobbledy goop.  Google seems to think we all got good grades, unnerstand that crap... the only thing I took out of it is, to plugin your headphones to the ole Pioneer, then,  stack a buncha Motown records on a 45 spindle (Temptation bundling)  Yeah baby, now THAT, I like. 

Procrastination, procrastination
Is makin' me late
Is keepin' me waitin' 

So, using my C+, M+ skills, the next time I asked Google, "In layman's terms, how do you stop procrastination?" as well as, "share stories about how regular ole regular folks overcame procrastination.... as, it's making me late... keepin me waiting........

First up:  "I got a whole lot better by using Google Calendar."

Vomit. Upchuck. Even though I DO use Google initially to blog, I am sick of it.  Google is akin (at least to me) to WalMart.. .McDonalds.. The New York Yankees..  You're old, I'm old, remember Chickenman? "He's everywhere he's everywhere"  So, is Google, haaawwwkk, patooey. (I promise I did that into my spittoon, not at you.)

I have a hotmail email addy.  Quite awhile back, the multi-colored monogrammed arrogant company (at least they are to me) said, "You can't do that, you gotta have Google."

I don't want Google.  YOU GOTTA HAVE A GOOGLE ADDY.  But....... THERE IS NO BUT. GET ONE.

So, I did, their Gmail thingy.  NO (SOUP). CAN'T use that one.  I mean, how could a gmail account, using my name, EVEN with the "E" on the enda Schultze, be taken. I tried both Vic AND Victor. Nope?  So, I added some other crap to my name, ended with Gmail.  Whew, Gee thanks, I have a Google email.  I NEVER use it.

Then, they forced me to later when I wanted something new.  If you want this (app, link, whadever) you gotta use your Google addy.  I don't even remember it, letalone the password. I've been emailing friends for, oh, twenty plus years, not long after that hideous AOL noise thingy, why, GMAIL NOW?  A year later (teasing, but it did take probably two hours to get it).. I could use, open my Google, gmail thingy.

Six, seven, eight, I don't remember, months after using my Hotmail account, they want it again for something. So.......... thankfully, I'd recorded my gmail addy and password, logged in.

Or, so I thought.

Sorry.  Your Gmail is full, can't open.  Another year (three hours) trying to figure out how to delete emails.  But, howinthehell are you sposeda get any visited too long relatives outta your house if you can't even get in the door to let 'em out?

Sorry, you're going to have to pay $1.99 a month for Google Gmail, it's full, storage costs.. That's funny! Next thing ya know we'll have to pay for water in a bottle, or, air at the gas station. I call BS, but I dunno who to call it to?  DO NOT PASS GO, FER SURE DO NOT VALET PARK IN BOARDWALK OR PARKPLACE (WE, GOOGLE, MONOPOLY, OWN 'EM BOTH). GO STRAIGHT TO JAIL.  FORK OVER YOUR CARD, EXPIRATION, CVC THREE DIGIT NUMBER, AND ZIP CODE, then you can have that app from Google Play (and that get outta jail free card.)

No. Not No's, Hells No's.  I won't pay. I'll find another way. You guys (Google) are POOPY.  

A few months later........... I think I wanted to get the Royal's TV package... 

OK (damnit) and here's my zip code. damnit darnit. 

Back to Hotmail.

TV went out.  Bought a new one.  (Close your ears, yes, from WalMart.)  Get home.  Still undecided about stream provider, studying rates...   Unpacked the TV, wanna watch regular channels until  I decide.  Not to worry, all Hisense TV's come equipped with Google Play (DAMNIT DARNIT, THEY'RE EVERYWHERE THEY'RE EVERYWHERE) you can decide later. 

Finally, choose Disney, Hulu ESPN package (I'm a tightwad)... Just email us from your Gmail to get started.  GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR, but I don't wanna.  Sorry, haveta. Gmail, or, hit the road Jack. 

Victor?  WHAT? Oh, sorry..   This gmail thing has given me an emotional regulation problem, again, I'm sorry.

It's ok, but.......... BUT WHAT?  Dangit, sorry again.   You'd mentioned procrastination... about what?

Well, first off... I'm so worked up now, I think I just missed the trash truck. (That, is what I was procrastinating. and I'm pretty sure they just drove by.)

Well............ can you gmail the company, see if they'll come back by?

i think mebbe, I'll take a nap instead. 

Procrastination, procrastination
Is makin' me late
Is keepin' me waitin' 

(He'll never make it to the laundromat today.)

Bite me.  

(Blogger's note... after rereading this, I think this is either my worst blog ever, or, next to worst.   PLEASE email me with your take (Worst, or, next to worst).. at vicschultze............ hang on, I'll brb as soon as I find my gmail addy. $1.99 a month I might as well use it eh?

So I've noticed...........

Life is good.

And of course, that comes with those moments we wanna crawl up into a ball... spout "leave me alone perty please... I don't wanna 'today' today. My (back, hip, knee, shoulder, tooth, foot, pride, demeanor and meaner) hurts, help, I've fallen and I don't wanna get up, I've got an itchy itchy rash." Them moments.

Don't tell no one, my faith in life, love, hope is assisted daily by reading the obits.

I used to say I read the obits because I don't wanna be embarrassed, make someone even sadder when I mention a loved one of theirs and I was unaware of their passing. We all, by now, have lost someone - and that (the idea of being embarrassed) is goofy - because - ifn's you're like me (First, I would really pray for you if you're like me!).. Ifn's you're like me, I take delight in someone even mentioning the name of a loved one that has gone to the beyond.  It somehow helps keep 'em alive. 

Back to my faith in life, love, hope is assisted daily by reading the obits.  People, are, amazing.  Obits bring "Dang I missed knowing him/her... I wish I had've."  (And maybe, hopefully, we one day will.) To me, anyways, it's remarkable when you use pen, paper to encapsulate the events, the person - between two remarkable dates.  The things you learn.

I did use the word hope because that's true - I get a new hunger for learning any, all about people that are out there.... before each of our time is up. Fascinating.

 Tidbits from today's obits...... Gent was a surgeon... "and once proudly displayed a life-sized cutout of Gene Simmons in his office—because of course he did." ... "life was not a straight line"...   'always (always) on time'...  "somehow managed to both avoid attention and quietly become the center of every room."

Another spoke of traveling, but, delighting in returning home, where, "loved listening to the water gently splashing against the shore and the tranquility of the evening breezes blowing through the trees. "

"He was a natural salesman that could sell blarney to an Irishman."   Another... entrepreneur. cleaned the entire store with a toothbrush, it was spotless...

"very active with Uplift, an organization that feeds the homeless. He drove the van every Wednesday night for 11 years. He knew the people that he served and many had his cell number and they knew if they called, he would help them. "  

"was not a showy man but rather was a quiet man with a dry sense of humor. If you were lucky enough to be near him and hear his side comments, he would be your friend forever.

"faith was paramount to him. He was a vibrant member of Church...  He enjoyed being with the other men of the parish and grilling burgers while drinking a beer with his friends. He was a daily communicant for many years, a beautiful model of how a man of God should live."

Without fail,  one after the other mentioned their greatest joy in life was family. Prayers to all in their loss.........our loss...

i've spent a lifetime kinda hanging out "in the background", not real sure why, mebbe the "better to be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt."  More and more though, I'm gonna try (and, I hope you do too IF that's your wish) to get to know the wonderful people we share life's zip code with.

There should be a place, a 'stage' to learn about folks. before, in addition to, obits.  We can utilize regular ole regular life to work on that hope, love, faith in meeting new people, wonderfully 'further, or deeper interrogating' the ones we've already befriended, to - find out more.  Dig deeper. Seedlings of friendship.  Roots, for rooting. Rings, for our years built together.

Live life.  Don't await the sound of the newspaper on the sidewalk. 

Love, Victurd 

 

 

 

People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)

Just because we get around (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

This, is an ALT, not to be confused with a BLT.  Aging-Lettuce-Tomato. Stealing the lyrics from The Who... and tips on aging gracefully from Ecumen.  All, thieved. Sorry, kinda, you're used to it.

Why don't you all f-fade away (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
And don't try to dig what we all s-s-say (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm not trying to cause a big s-s-sensation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm just talkin' 'bout my g-g-g-generation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

Do something you enjoy every day.  Whenya awaken, thinka five things you're thankful for. For instance:  awakening.. Chili Cheese Fritos..  I can still walk (not far, but I can)..  friends... pets... in any order

My, my, my generation

Work at friendships... congratulate yourself... Embrace change... Learn, exercise your brain continually.  Know yourself.  "Hi, I"m Victor." "Nice to meetya Victor, I'm Victor, and I've seen you do some really stupid crap." "Takes one to call one."  You know what you like and don't like and have the power to emphasize good.

Why don't you all f-fade away (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
And don't try to d-dig what we all s-s-say (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm not trying to cause a big sensation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm just talkin' 'bout my g-generation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

Get a massage frequently.  YEAH BABY!  Touch feels good and it's so relaxing.  Be gentle with yourself, listen to your own inner voices and senses (that's some scary stuff eh?) and do what makes you feel best.

My, my, my generation
My, my, my generation

Eat with friends and family.  Prepare food together. Eat the things you like.  Eat smartly, but every once in awhile line up a row of warm chocolate chip cookies and dip them in milk.

People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Just because we g-g-get around (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

Get sufficient rest.  Living takes work, we all need a break. Laugh and cry, but, more of the laughing. Something about endorphins.

My, my, my generation

Smile, a lot. Pray, daily.  Spend time with other generations, you can learn something new from any age.

 
[(Pete Townshend & John Entwistle) Roger Daltrey]

WHO?  Uh huh.

 (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) My generation
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) My generation
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) This is my generation, baby
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) This is my generation
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) This is my generation
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) This is my generation
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) This is my generation

Write. Write a letter.  Write a blog (HOLY CRAP, what an idea).  Write a poem, a journal. Helps ya think, express and generate new ideas.

Dress in current style. (I call BS here.) Travel. Exercise.  Drink and eat...... in moderation. Realize, although your body deteriorates your spirit grows stronger if you let it.  Treat others with respect and dignity, we find it's a two way street.

Cut down or eliminate multi-tasking.  Walk. Get a pedometer and take 5,000 to 10,000 steps a day.  Walk in a pool if it's easier.  Keep your weight at a healthy level.  Don't fear aging, grow to the very last breath.

It's me again.  As I transferred this from the article to the blog, after awhile I stopped trying to insert 'funny ha ha'....It is serious stuff, but... not too serious.  Seems as our physical prowess wanes, the hardest part is the mental.  At the risk of "Dr. Laura'ing, or Joel Olsteen'ing, enlist help, friends, professionals if need be.  Most of us probably have better insurance than at any point in our lives - don't fear using it, as we certainly ain't taking it with us.

Talkin' 'bout our generation.  The best. Greatest music.  The Golden Rule. Character, with characters within.  Creating our own fun (still can).   The want to help, assist, be nice, kind.  We learned from the Greatest Generation then took it onboard for ourselves, and those after us.

People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)

It's ok.  We know who we are.

Love, Victurd 
 

I see your red door.......

Doors are interesting, that's an open and shut thought eh?

Don't let the door hitya where the Good Lord splitya!  Show them the door please. Knock knock knock'n on Heaven's door..... 

You make a better door than window..... Check your ego at the door....    Get one's foot in the door...  Open door policy...   Shut the front door........

Friend was on a cruise, fire in the kitchen... allofasudden, four hundred and however many doors automatically shut. 

I grew up in the home of an old Dentist..  he was wheelchair bound, so all the door handles were well below regular height. (I know, aren't  you glad I shared that, your life will never be the same.......... sorry... kinda) 

Door dash...  Sliding door..  Storm door... trap door..  

Entrance.  Closed.  Fire door, use only in case of emergency.  Men's.  Women's. Family.  Whichever.

Three couples, 40-something, at the hotel.  Been to the pool, each, drink in hand. Elevator door up to 4th floor.  Just before arriving at the 4th, funny haha wife of hubby standing right infronta door, "Pete, can you hold my drink for me?" Sure.. As the door opens, down go his swim trunks.  Oops.

Story on Facebook today, Betty White - 1950, the day and age when women weren't allowed in board rooms, but, expected in the kitchen.. had her own variety show. She had a really talented tap dancer, happened to be a black gent, performed weekly.  Network said, "Southern Stations threatening to take the show off the air in their markets if you don't take him off the show.  Take him off the show."  "I'm sorry, I'm not taking him off, live with it."  Then, she gave him more time. Network dropped the show from every market. "Betty always found another door."

The Doors started performing in 1965.  Lead vocalist, songwriter Jim Morrison died in uncertain circumstances 6 years later - yet, in those years prior to his passing they recorded six albums, sold over 4 million of them, as well as 8 million singles.

 September 17, 1967, the Doors would perform "Light My Fire" on the Ed Sullivan Show.  Executives asked the band to not use the word 'higher' due to a possible reference to drug use.  They either forgot, or, used it on purpose. Neverless, six future shows with Ed were cancelled.  The Doors found another door - and soon after performed the same song on The Jonathan Winters Variety Show.

Buddy'a mine, buddy'a many (ie, well liked).. Billy Jewell College, circa 1973. At the end of his Freshman year, a Dean who seemingly had a thing agin' him said, "Don't come back next year, we don't really want your type."  Showed him the door.  Went to another University, got his BS.  Then, his Masters. Then, Doctorate.  Dean, long gone, soon, "Hey, here's your office door, we'd love to have you on our staff."  Uh huh, Billy.  Karma provided him a nice career, even retiring from "we don't really want your type".

1980-something.  Kansas City International Airport. Beautiful terminal A, automatic, all glass doors, led to checkerboard wood floors in the building's entirety.  Once, twice a year, Bambi would see reflection in door, think, "I'm gonna run say "Hi"", oops... was a deer facade... anyways.... I will NEVER forget that sound as the frantic deer ran from one end, past gates, baggage claims, ticket counters, all the way to the other end.  Clippity-clop'ed, a thousand times over.

I done runned outta door stories.  Oh, one more I guess. Buddy of mine, heap big KU fan, awhile back planned a sale's trip in New Orleans simply to time it when KU played in the Final Four basketball Tourney. Prior to the days of Stub Hub, Tickets For Less - he marched up and down the street, finally buying one ticket from a scalper.  Pranced up in his Crimson and Blue KU duds, handed the ticket taker his ticket.........."Sorry Bubs, that's fake."  Damnit darnit Jim.  So, he went, explained Lucy to a nearby cop.  Would not give it up. Finally, after twenty minutes the cop says "Alright, alright... we're gonna walk up to the Door of the Superdome, I'm gonna open the door, you shake my hand, and there better be something in it."

Doors keep us warm, protect... allow depressed ones to hide.  Others, go, meet greet, get married, have beers, go to church, work, shop, yada. Ya can't do much without doors.  Doors are ends, beginnings, where we meet 'deer' friends.

Favorite doormats.... "Don't just stand there, bust a move."    "The dogs only bark at ugly people."   

 

 

 

On second thought.........

Alvin.....   Alvin?....   Alvin???...   ALVIN???!!!...   ALVIN!!!!!!!!

Bueller.......  Bueller........ Bueller......  Bueller.....

Waldo?...   Waldo?...    Waldo?...  Waldo?...

"....... 6, 7, 8, 9, 10...  Ready or not, here I come!"

Allee allee in free....

That really ain't got squat to do with this...  Well, OK, I guess it does.  Memory of all things past - or, as much as we can remember.

I guess life, or, perhaps me, my life, could be dyslexic. I find glee in thinking bassackwards...  yes, what happened last week, last month, in 2024, 1999... '85...  '70...  and all the years prior, starting with when we made the transition from "He's 19 months old..." to... "2, terrible 2."

Every stop, year, thereafter, blessed.

I KNOW, I KNOW, I KNOW.....   with the good of life, comes the poopy mems....  Mayonnaise (YUCK, sorry, not really).....  FINALLY getting up enough nerve to ask whatshername out, so, ya run up to her, lo and behold, she's got a ring on her finger with enough yarn on it your granny could make you a hat.

Rain outs.  A tube goes out on the TV, making Leave It To Beaver impossible until dad gets home, can fix.

Intermixed, there's some hella good....   slip and slide....... sled, back to top, sled, back to top, sled.... hot chocolate.

Then, mebbe like, 9th grade...  you's more scared than the first time you went to the dentist... and some Senior with a probable small thing (VICTOR!!!)... ok, some Senior who was bullied horrifically HIS 9th grade year has picked YOU ("But I didn't do nuttin'!) as his psychologically this will make him feel better. Mine pulled a knife on me, 3rd floor bathroom in school.. nuttin' happened, I'm certain worse ends have happened. Bullying, sadly, lives.

We learn, along the ride in the second row of the station wagon, not every one has station wagons.. some like Edsels, Citrons (ever seen those dudes go 'up and down'!), T Birds, Falcons, his dad runs a business, the cargo van doubles as their family car.

We notice........ the perfect(?) mom, dad, kid, kid family.... then, the family with no dad.  Another, no mom.  Yet another, lives with his, her grandparents.

We see, but are now old enough, not to say something.......... how come he walks funny?  Why is she in 3rd grade again this year?  Mom, he's worn the same shirt and pants four days in a row....  DID YOU SEE THE SIZE OF THEIR HOUSE? They actually have people that ain't family that LIVE there and do the stuff, kinda work, our moms and dads do.. and  they ALWAYS get new duds.

Where ya going with this Victor?  I ain't sure.  That's a thing about life I really like, but, sometimes it's sad. Whaddaya mean? I mean, we can love, love, love our immediate family...  or not, and the 'or not' is really sad to me.. .but, I get it.

We overcome that, or.. we don't.

In spite of the present day 'climate', this is the greatest Country in the World, my take anyways.

Free to choose. Free.  We trip and fall, sometimes sue, sometimes punch out the owner, sometimes say "I'm ok, I simply wasn't paying attention."

We hold doors for others because there ain't nuttin' in life in that bigga hurry where we can't be nice..........or, we walk in, let the door close, 'cause mebbe we didn't learn we should be nice.. or try to be. Or, don't care.  That's a sad one, but too, we ain't never worn their Chuck Taylors.  Maybe they're sick, hurt, just divorced, being bullied, had a just had a hound pooch go over the rainbow bridge.

Somehow, we all make it. Quality for one, is differn't for another.  Fun for me, might be disgusting to you.  One might be looking for a crown to put atop their head after having loaded three loads of clothes in the car, successfully washed them, brought them home, put them away -------- whilst anudder may be staring in the mirror after returning from the marathon they just completed and they deem themselves a failure because they didn't finish in the top fitty in their age group.

McDonalds, Arby's, The Capitol Grille, we're having leftovers........ perhaps equally yummy to all.

Pet a hound, buy one'a them 12' tall carpeted things for your cats to go crazy climbing.  "ACHOO, no thank you."  Honey, can we get anudder puppy?  I'm not so sure the four we already got, and you and me, AND a puppy, can all fit in this bed.  PLEASE?  OH, OK.

Life is a remote control, cause we like different things.  I'm a fidget spinner.  I fall asleep in the recliner every night by 9.  Morning person. Night owl. 

Road trip.  All inclusive joint for me. Choo choo, all the way across the county.  Caribbean cruise. Oh  you oughta try Alaska.  Brrr...  We really enjoy tugging the camper up to Smithville lake, we can do round trip in 37 minutes.

This all came to fruition because I was thinking about what an awesome childhood I had.  I know some didn't.  We, in life, can worry about what we don't have.   While sure, I've been divorced a long, long time - know I've missed a bunch, I've had a blessed life.  I'm happy. I hope I choose that, live that.  In the end, it's smile or not.  Kindness or not.  Being thankful or not.

Life is fun, funny, hard, tough, lazy, hurried, hot, cold, rainy, snowy, too hot, just right.  I once told a buddy of mine, he happens to be black.... "If I were black, I'm pretty sure I'd be dead from fighting back."  He quickly smiled, said, "No you wouldn't."

I love me some people............ hope you do as well....

We're in it together...............or, we ain't.  Sometimes we ain't got no choice.  I'm a remote person. I like flippin' around the channels of life. Sure, usually land back at the same ole same ole ones. but, I really enjoy seeing what others are watching, doing, how they're living, what they like, don't like.  Life's fun. Good. Or not, I guess.

Love, Victurd

Fabiosa Digest(ion) issues........

Hi, my name is Vic.  I'm old.  Feeble.  Ya know, one foot in the urn (I have really small feet.)

Picture wrinkled arms... actually, wrinkles allover, you know, like onea them Shar-Pei hounds.

I have actinic purpura.  GET AWAY FROM ME THEN OLD MAN, I DON'T WANNA CATCH THAT CRAP.

It ain't what you think.  It's the purple spots we geezers get on our skin whenever we barely bump anything, sometimes, we don't even remember howintheheck we got/get them.

I'm the poor poor pitiful me person in dayum near every Fabiosa Digest 'reel', story, whadever you call 'em on Facebook.  Our time has past, move along OG, where'd ya put the will, I wanna take a peek.

Old man river..  Any possible contributions in life, water under the bridge.  Get along home little doggie.

Arguments, amongst the 'children' of Fabiosa Digest folks, center around, "here's a nice little flat for ya Grandpa.. it's only a block from the Assisted Living place, which is next door to Golden Acres, which, has a really nifty cemetery in the back forty.  Mark, set, get them tennis balls'a rollin. Rollin' rollin' rollin', keep them tennis balls rollin'... . Oh.. and......

Handover the keys to the 4 bedroom, 2 bath place, and, couldya, before ya go, call that dumpster place and clear out all the crap in the second garage door spot so I, er, someone could park two vehicles in there?

In fairness to the Fabiosa Digest folks, I ain't read a ton of 'em, but, whenever I do, I swear to goodness I can hear Roy Orbison singing "It's Over" in the background.

Just once..........................

Just once..........................

I'd like to read one where..........

Gramps SPRINGS OUTTA BED... showers and shaves in nuthin' flat.  Races (you hear me, RACES) down the stairs....... as gramps does, he swings by the record player (YES, I said record player..........) puts Sly and his Stone family on...

Say, get up and dance to the music
Get on up and dance to the music

Dance to the music
Dance to the music
Dance to the music
Dance to the music (hey, Greg), what?

 

All we need is a drummer
For people who only need a beat, yeah
I'm gonna add a little guitar
And make it easy to move your feet

 

Then, Gramps moonwalks into the kitchen. makes him some Chia pudding.. a dab'a cottage cheese...  three scoops of Greek yogurt.......warshes it all down with a glass'a 2%........

 

(Reread up above there... there ain't NOWHERE where the OG put on clothes..  YES, he's nekkid to the World.  That's the way, uh huh uh huh, he likes it... slides open the patio door....... (There's a 12' privacy fence, relax a little)..   does a cannonball into the deep enda the pool, followed by twelve, count em, twelve, laps.

 

"AHHHH YES!" he hollers to no one in particular...... back into the house. put's Sly's album back in the cover.. .runs upstairs whistling the theme from Andy Griffith.......

 

T shirt....... shorts.......  a pair'a neon green boxer briefs (whitey tighty? FORGET YOU!)... ankle socks (whadever damn color he wants).. . His favorite Hoka shoes.........

 

AND HE'S OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Out the door......... jogs up by the college... around the Square (4 times).......up the hill to the High School... he's up to two miles.. but he's timed it perfectly, slides into the Elementary School, salutes, waves, 'howdy's' all the office staff...  walks into granddaughter Aub's 3rd grade class... has a seat on the stool the teach provided.......... and reads the book of the day (right after he's winked at Aub and flashed her the love sign.)

 

Blows her a kiss... says 'thankya ma'am" to teach.... "Morning Herk" to the custodian............. and, continues his jog....... defying the perceived odds of "geezers don't know crap about electronics", he calls the 7-11 from the phone on his ear, orders 8 different scratch off tickets... "be there in seven minutes Betty".. before he set foot outta the schoolyard, he'd eyed the pull up bar on the playground... did 20 pull ups (didn't wanna be late for his tickets, prolly coulda done forty or fitty.)

 

He no longer walked in the door, said 'howdy', snatched the tickets, tapped to pay (thoughts running through his head, "SEE? I know how to do this crap too!).. says thanks to Betty.......

 

Two miles to home......... but, the Police Scanner in the other ear warns him about trouble at Al's Bar and Grill..........he's there in a flash.... seems four thugs from a nearby town are making fun of, bullying. Duke... a nice kid, some call him 'simple', but, wouldn't hurt a flea.. anyways, Duke is in near tears...... It's like Gramps downed a can'a spinach, three karate kicks, four jiu jitsu's later, there's "Four on the floor", Al, and Duke, thank him... wiseacre Otis, in the backgound, already had a few, starts singing the Might Mouse theme............ 

 

Ten minutes later (a 5mph pace) Gramps is in the door at home, pets the dog and cat... feeds em...  takes a seat on the couch.. but only for a little bit.. to binge his latest favorite Netflix show.

 

Fabulous idea, (my take anyways).. I dunno if Fabiosa would ever break from their feeble Geezer, take advantage of the old man, old woman ways..... but, I'd like to see it, read it.

 

Oh well, I'm off to swim a few laps, happy day!

 

VICTOR?    Yeah?  You ain't gotta pool, and, FYI, that's the front porch, not the back porch.

 

Oops.

 

Love, Victurd