Funnel....

Scale back.

Practice.  Ya don't practice to be old when you're younger. Ya just deal with stuff as it comes.  Like, "Since when did that inch and a half hair start growing on my ear?"  "I never hated these stairs before....in fact, I usedto hum, sing, dance, even skip every other one as I made my way to the top."

We scale back.  Funnel.

Funnel cakes at the Fall Festival?  LOVE TO, except, Doc says "Watch your p's and q's" and in this case, that means carbs and sugars.

"Hey, let's go to the Lake!"........... I vote, "let's pretend we do, then don't."  For years, buddies bootscooted early at noon on Friday, sped to the Lake, had the energy to stop, grab goodies, stuff to help fix up the lake house. hors d'oeuvres for friends, neighbors, fill the gas jug for the boat...grab a couple new noodles.. clean, mow, dust, change sheets, all that.... readying for two days of parties. Hustle back Sunday night, driving in the dark......  Get up the next Friday and do it all again.

Now............ hell to the no.  All that crap (the preparation) that could once be done in a few hours - has translated to.......I get to the lake house, I work my watoosie off... by the time it's cleaned, mowed, laundered... it's Sunday morning and i sureashell ain't driving back in the dark.  Take these ribbons from the hair and put the damn place up with Keller Williams, we ain't goin' no damn whar' next weekend, and the weekend after that, et al.

Funnel.

With the advent of getting the heck away from Stereos, DVD players, yada... CABLE IS HERE!  Gimme the biggest dayum package ya got! Feed me a hunnerd and ninety two channels Seymour, or Spectrum. We can afford that! Then, ya take this job and shove it... but, along with that comes... oh hell, how am I gonna pay for all this crap.  Look Honey, channel 371 is the Spanish Local News. We don't need that!

So, we funnel.  Cut the chord.  We'll stream. Hey, Youtube has a special rate of $49.99 for five months, let's do that, then cancel, then maybe we'll just do Netflix and Discovery Plus.... we don't need no stinking 412 channels. The carnival barker at Spectrum drug us in, now, they've raised their rates more than 47's term (sorry, kinda i guess) and more than Farmland foods has ground beef.

LinkedIn.  Expand our friendship numbers.  As we age, nope, nada, no longer.  Life is now lived with one eyebrow raised as we cipher any, everything in our path (especially humans) and we ain't gots the time nor the want to... for... "Hey, nice to meet you, shoot me  your phone number so I can put it in my phone."  Huh huh. I know how (let's use Charlie, a ficticious name here) as an example.  Charlie is a good friend, I ain't gotta figure him out.. I know his likes, dislikes, habits, that.. in spitea sometimes he ain't taken a bath for a couple days.. .there are no surprises in our friendship.

Funnel. We funnel people.

Come to think of it.  When we're young, that LARGE parta the funnel is at the top... we take it all, much, in.  Even in college (although I'll never ever do the funnel beer bong thing again).

Then... we age.  We get fat. Screw your Chicken Fat record... I ain't runnin' no 600 yard dash... I even hate these stairs... so.......we turn the tunnel over... and suddenly, it looks like us in the mirror.  Uh huh, skinny little wimpy arms at top, big ole fat butt at the bottom.  Eh, it is what it is.....and... I don't think the Doc would get upset if, just once (or twice) during the Fall Festival, I eats me a funnelcake.

We funnel...........scale back.. on the hours 9pm thru midnight.  Huh uh, no, hells to the no.  MAYBE NYE, but too, that's kinda doubtful.  If nothing else, we'll stay up until 11 and watch the East Coast celebrate like we's there too.

Now, with bedtime before even the late, local news comes on, means, oh crap, we're up early. Hella early. Now what?  Well, pee comes to mind.  Oatmeal. Must I?  Make me up some biscuits and gravy honey, oh... we got any pancake mix?

All day................now whatta we do?  We usedta resemble a balloon that had been pricked, and go go go go go....... until real late and we's worn out like a kid on a long car ride. No longer.  That balloon's air flows strong now, we collapse around 10am for, nap number one.  Around 2pm, we flip the damn phone to do not disturb (who cares, remember? We scaled back our friend list... odds are they ain't gonna call anyways).. and we take nap number two.  Honey? Wake me in time for...........oh, nevermind. Heck, I can durn near watch Family Feud any time'a day.. AFV too.

Victor, we wish you would funnel back on how long your damn blogs are.

Done, finito.  Happy day.. or happy half day... happy naps..  I'm off to watch election ads.. 

Ha, love, Victurd 

GET YOUR HEAD OUT................................

From under the covers.

I've found, even as a really old person, there are times ya just wanna turn out all the lights.....   lock the doors..... put the phone on "Huh uh, leave me alone" and crawl in bed, pull the cover over one's head...  with the intent to.... maybe come out.....say, 2028 or so.

Necessary evil.

Ugly stuff, 'have to's', to get to greater good. 

DON'T WORRY (ok... but jes' a little bit) BE HAPPY.

Dentist office.  Taxes. I-435 construction since 2021. Dropped passes..  Free throws clanked... even providing the opposing team the occasional cheer "AIR BALL.... AIR BALL."  (When Wilt scored a hunnerd, he still missed four free throws and twenty-seven from the field.)

All, leads to, a pertier smile...  smoother roads... less drops...  better field goal percentage, that. 

Trust me Fido, the vet clipping your nails will ultimately make things betta' (no joint strain, snags, painful torn nails... and I promise.. he ain't clipping off those.. at least today he's not)...

"Ahm, ahm, ahm.. hell to the NO!  You getta' vas... I HAD THE BABY."  Gulp, OK.

The Chiefs really sucked...   I'm trying to cut back on smoking, yesterday I cleaned the fridge (ate everything).. today, I took the three AA batteries out my scale.  DO NOT MENTION "Hey Victor, how ya been doing gambling?"

Help, I've fallen and I can't get up.  I've got an itchy itchy rash.  I can't believe I ate the whole (fridge). Take the damn ribbon from you hair, come and lay down by my side, help me make it though the night, or, at least maybe until 2028?

"Victor, the Dr's Office called... they want you to do a Sleep Study."  WHAT?  I mean, ohhh... hey, tell 'em no thanks, I checked, I've slept 27,041 consecutive days, I don't think I needs any more practice, studying. 

I. WANT. MY. MOMMY, now leave me the heck alone! 

The sun'll come out, tomorrow, bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun.  Do NOT mention "BET".

Just thinking about, tomorrow, Clears away the cobwebs and the sorry... til there's none!  (Huh?  How, why should I trust you?  Are you live?  Memorex? AI? The Wizard of Oz?  On the Red team or the Blue team?)

When I'm stuck in a day that's gray and lonely I just stick out my chin and grin and say.. The Sun'll come out, tomorrow, so you gotta hang on 'til tomorrow, come what may... Tomorrow, tomorrow, I loveya tomorrow, you're always a day away........ ahm, yeah... we'll see... meantime, get the help outta my bedroom, but said lovingly..  WAIT!  Before you go... can I bum a cig?

Life can suck sometimes can't it? And then, there's days likeya bowl a 300.  (I'm hungry, can we go to the bowling alley and get a 300 burger and fries?...   ahm, NO, you still got halfa fridge in your large intestine.  Eww.  Right? 

Wait a minute, it's stopped hailing.  Guys are swimming, guys are sailing, playing baseball, gee that's better.. Muddah, Faddah, kindly disregard this letter.  

HEY? What's that spaceship doing in the backyard?

Knock, knock..  Take me to your leader.......  Well, let's not do that one, but hey, we have a lotta fun on this planet, follow me... we'll go bowling, to a ballgame, play ping pong, catch the New Theater show..  eat some chicky at Strouds.. then, go carts and bumper cars... It'll be outta this world... well, you know.. HEY, do you guys have cigs on your planet?

Up down, down up.  Happy, sad. Sad, Happy.  What goes up, must come down. (Yeah but, what if that parachute packer was having a bad day,,,or worse, called in sick and a newbie packed it?)... 

Bottomline, life is (can be) sad.  Mostly though, it's good, happy.

Wax on, wax off, put the lime in the coconut, Victor take your Bupropion. 

I'm going to take a nap.   VICTOR?  Until 2028?  Nah, I'll wake up with plenty of time to bet on the WNBA, or the World Series, or, Monday Night Football, maybe all three!  Ya got any cigs on ya?

Love, Victurd 

All about Avoidance Behavior.......

If I've heard it once, I've heard it a hunnerd times, "Victor, YOU have avoidance behavior!"

So, reckon I do.

So, today, I decided to edjumicate myself upon avoidance behavior, and all within.

Got to a nifty article  The Five Types Of Avoidance Behavior by PsychCentral.

Then, decided..............

Nah................

Have a wonderful weekend,

Love,. Victurd 

Post Turtles......... and Shake and Bake....

A quick one today. (You are most certainly welcome!)

We's got different likes.  Some, become 'old hat' conquering things like The New York Times Crossword.  For me, No Way Jose, and, I've blocked Jeopardy on my remote control cause it makes me feel really, really dumb.

Some, love the challenge of an orchid....  the accompaniment of a hound-pooch on their daily, mid-morning brisk walk about Nature.  Still, udders plan their day around, STOP EVERYTHING, General Hospital is on.

Me?  I love SPORTS.  OK, sports, 2 beers at the Landing, Chili Cheese Fritos, Lasagna, Yoga pants (go ahead, shoot me).. the camaraderie of golf (I can take or leave all the other aspects of the game.)  Sudoku. Homestead Rescue. VICTOR, we get it, we get it. You're a simpleton. B I N G O.

Sport's teach.  Yeah they do. Oh sure, them other likes do too (Use a pencil on the NY Times puzzle...   if you're on Jeopardy and you know hella a lot about Greek Mythology, bet the $1000 first, then work your way up the ladder for easier questions....  proper watering combined with root health on the orchid...  Screw clipping your dog's nails, pay the vet..   periodically get out your scrapbook and reread everything about GH's longest running cast member, Audrey Hardy.......

VICTOR?  Uh huh. You said "A quick one today", get with the program.

Sorry, not really sorry.  

KU's Ted Owens, he of 97 years young, is being inducted into the College Basketball Hall of Fame this weekend.  VICTOR?  KU? YOU DON'T LIKE KU?  Hey, I admire and respect their program, besides, when Ted coached I think all they had was 2 National Championship trophies in their 'esteemed' case, and, by then, they both had cobwebs on 'em.

Ted Owens won a lot of games. He joked that his wife said "you remember every statistic of every game you played, coached, but you can't remember what someone said to you five minutes ago.'

"When I'm introduced now, it's 'the oldest living OU basketball player', 'oldest living Final Four coach'.  Ted injects humor into much.   "I really think I will live to be 100.  I ask God every day, 'God, will you let me live long enough to see a referee call traveling?' "

Drum roll......... are you EVER going to get around to "Post Turtles.............and Shake and Bake?        

Yes, and thank you for the reminder.  "An old friend of mine from high school in Hollis, Oklahoma, Darrell Royal, was my hero then, as he went on to win multiple National Championships as coach at the University of Texas.  Darrell told one of his running backs one day who went across the goal line and started beating his own chest "Son, why don't you wait until your teammates get there to celebrate? You didn't get there all by yourself."

I'm biased, I love sports. One of the best lessons ever.  Ted told that story in advance of thanking the many, the village, that helped him get to being inducted.

I'm off to munch down some Fritos, mebbe take a nap.  Enjoy your day.

Love  you,

Victurd                                                                                          

In the throes.......

Passion... oh baby oh baby....

And there I was........ I was taken to a place........

Actually, Tony and Mia had been together just short of two years.  Each, after a dismal first relationship with another - were enthralled by the other....  but, "at arms length" everywhere except.. 

Well... everywhere except the bedroom.

A pleasant late Spring day meant the bedroom windows were raised slightly to let Nature in.......  Those throes led to OHHHHHHH's so loud, Tony had to stop mid, well, mid 'you know'...to keep Natural from getting out...  Tony got up and closed them....

They eventually collapsed in each other's arms......   after finally catching their oxygen full back....... Tony put both arms around her (again)... and said, "Mia, will you marry me?"

"No."

To read the rest of the story, comment "Yes" below and click the link to read on........

THE LINK.

 

 

Just kidding.  Fishing.  We simpleton Facebook readers (OK, me.. I am, I'll admit).. froth like a Pavlov dog.. enter "yes", mebbe light a cig... pour a drink... turn the boob tube down...  and race with our brains for the "Now what" part of it.

Sometimes they're good.  Sometimes there's so many pop ups I throw my Miller Lite at the screen... sometimes I'm baffled, amazed, "Why didn't I think that would happen" and, other times... "This could be a Hallmark movie.. (ie, easy prognostication of the ending in like, Act 2)...

Today's ending ain't about Tony, Mia, OHHHHH's, that.

It's about, my father told me (lovingly) that I was "a follower", easily led insinuated. AM NOT (I wanted to holler...then, I remembered that time I asked for allowance money, he agreed, but only with the stipulation to paint my bedroom.  He supplied the paint, brushes, yada... .me the elbow grease.  Except... within ten minutes after starting, one'a my fellow high school buddies drove by, honked for me to come out.  I did.  And, I hopped in.

Follower.  AM NOT!

We'll never know the end, the why Mia said "No."  

Could be................... she's carrying Tony's brother's (Phillipe') baby...  mebbe she likes women... she got a job offer in Anchorage...  Herpes simplex...  He's a Dem, she's a Trumpster...  He, innie..she, outtie..  He likes dogs, she cats. He hates cats...   

Tony likes pina coladas, getting caught in the rain, not into yoga, likes making love at midnight... Mia, none of the above.

Paperback (Fabiosa) writers.

 Happy day. Love, Victurd 

Paint your wagon........

Or heck, your fingernails... your red door black... your grandkids...   outbuildings... your roof... or, a picture of every picture tells the story.

First and second graders paint...   'Lefty' famously painted starry starry night...  Folks paint F-One-Fitties all day long.

Suggested colors?  Mediums?  Ask Sherwin-Williams.

I will bore you again, with the story of a high school English teacher who had a different (wonderful) approach to teachin' her kiddos how to write (paint.)  They would exit the school doors in pairs... one, blindfolded, the other, narrating each and every thing seen along their path.  Little did they know they were panting (descriptively writing) as they walked.

I'm old. Hella old.  How old are you Victor?  Old enough, to remember almost an entire summer, three of my buddies (Whale, Sanford, Denny) and I, worked for a company that owned boo koo country acreage that just so happened to be in the path of where they wanted to build I-435 that would loop around the entirety of Kansas City.  Our role? Paint outbuildings to increase the value of the property they would soon sell to the Government. (TBC)

We had soooo much fun (wiffle ball, tossing quarters, footballs, running, chasing) we knew just about when our bossman would be headed our way and paint like crazy for an hour to make up for lost time. We'd go to lunch at whatever fastfood, gas station, diner we could find in that portion of the City.  Once, three of the four of us forgot to put lids on our paint buckets as we strolled to 7-11.  Fourteen Black Angus cows found the paint, wanted to see what it tasted like.. by the time we got back, they ALL looked more like Holsteins with white on their mouths, ears, legs, hooves, yada.  "Xplain Lucy" our boss would say.  We really couldn't! 

YESTERDAY (I was driving to work to at the golf course, daybreak.. going up a hill on two-lane highway.. the sun perfectly peeked on the horizon.. it spoke, it amazed, it made me give thanks for 'another'..it emanated (painted) there is a God. Mebbe ya had to be there I dunno.) ALL MY TROUBLES SEEMED SO FAR AWAY.

Day before yesterday, I was killing time on Facebook and there was a posting about the book Lonesome Dove. "Could NOT put it down"..  "Favorite read EVER".. yada..   I ain't a book reader but I wanna find it, cause it sounds like McMurty is a pretty good 'painter'.

Today. (Me, me, me again, sorry) I was visiting with a loved one..  and asked (via text) this loved one to "please share one of your favorite things you remember about (another loved one that is no longer here.)"..............   She wrote (painted) back:

"With (our departed loved one) everything was just better when she was there. I remember waiting for her to get home from work and feeling like life is good.  Her laughter, smiles, no matter what was going on to stress her out, she always came home happy and it was very contagious."   You ain't gotta ask Sherwin-Williams on that one...  that's some MIGHTY FINE 'painting'!

It's also a lesson to us all.  the "no matter what was going on to stress her out"...  "always happy... that's very contagious."........ 

We paint our own lives.  We are, good, bad, sloppy, neat, outside the lines, pleasantly perfect, all of the above.

Thing is.... VICTOR, don't preach. Hey, you know the gig.. I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome.. WE sit at the easel of life.  We control whether to paint a smile or not. We can even paint listening.. commending.. boosting... being leaned on.. .all.  Everything, every day.

So paint.  Paint a smile.  Paint a hug.  Heck, paint a cow if you like.  Just don't forget to put the lid on your can if you go to lunch.

Happy happy,

Love, Victurd 

Alone again..................

Gilbert.. O'Sullivan.. .would say, naturally...   Naturally......

Glynn "Scotty" Wolfe, would say..... "For the 30th time"...  (he was married 29 times.)

Linda... Essex... would say, "For the 22nd time."  Then, she saw "Scotty" had the male record for 29 times, said "What the hell"... "Scotty, let's go for a soda, then swing by the church for my 23rd marriage."  Oh ya little piss ant (I'M TEASING I'M TEASING!) ya don't believe me?  Google it!  Neither had too much alone time..  .theys too busy getting fitted for tuxes, flowing dresses, and punching out pre-nups at the computer. And that all fits in with my favorite pickup line... "You look JUST LIKE my 6th wife!" "GOOD LORD MAN, how many times you been married?"  Five.

There's two kinda people........... Pubs and Dems...  KU (pew) or MU..  Innie or Outtie...  "Urinal works" or "Huh uh, gotta be American Standard sit down porcelain." (Editor's note, as well as those of you who note 'TMI'.. one time, Band Camp, The Landing in Liberty... long line for the ladies room, a chicky had to pee soooooooooooooo bad (there ain't no sit-down thingys in the men's Patio bathroom) she looked at me exiting the john, said "Guard the door."  Apparently, she did so OK, which, vaulted her to 2nd place in my admiration of a woman peeing (My ex once peed in a Coffee tub, as we drove down I-70, NOT spilling a drop!  I'll always remember that, even though I'm alone now........ oh yeah, that's what we were talking about........ Two kinds'a people.

Solitude:  A conscious, positive choice that lets your brain rest, process emotions, recharge energy, and build self-awareness.

Loneliness:   An involuntary or distressing feeling that your social relationships do not match your needs. You can feel lonely in a crowded room, at a party, or even inside a long-term relationship. 

And, I guess you gotta add a 3rd type of None...  as in Nun of the above.  VICTOR, you're disgusting.  You just got here didn't ya?

Wiki tell me 81 different recording artists have recorded a song called "Alone." Yes, I counted them all, amazing what one can do with time on hands (ie, alone.)

Meatloaf, basically chose together (for some reason) by pretty much saying his vows by the dashboard lights.  I find a touch of irony, AFTER that song, his song list included Did I Say That?... "It's All Coming Back to Me Now."..  "Speaking in Tongues"... "Blind As A Bat".. "Los Angeloser"... 

We've all witnessed, aging, ULTRA longterm couples, where one passes, the other, perhaps due to broken heart syndrome, follows closely.  My own grandparents passed under six months from each other.

I think most of us have heard The Male Piggie story about chosen singlehood... having asked her to get married, she said no, so, he ended up living happily ever after, and rode motorcycles, and went fishing, and hunting, and played golf, dated women half his age, and drank beer, and scotch and had tons of money in the bank, and scratched his balls without criticism and left the toilet seat up.  Alone again, mebbe mullet-style?

While I've been single (OK, divorced) for quite some time (a couple near misses, but, I was only doing 25mph. she dodged - I'm kidding)... there are 'moments'... and.. I found a site that suggested how to cope with being alone:

Manage Social Media.. take intentional breaks (put your phone down) and stop comparing your social life to others.  (BRB... sorry, had to check email, Facebook, bet $10 on the Houston Texans, see why a reminder dinged.)

Take yourself on dates, a restaurant, a movie, yada...  I can just hear it now.. Whadda you wanna do?  I dunno, whadda you wanna do?...  Let's do karaoke.. Victor, you suck at singing... and... get your damn hand off of me!

OK, serious. I can be that.  To you, coupled.  Enjoy.  DON'T GIVE UP without doing virtually everything you can to salvage your partnership.  Too many make "off the handle" snap judgements, when, not considering options to fix what's wrong, and remember the reasons, feelings, (all that) that you got together in the first place.  

Us olders.... we must fight the "if you don't move, you die" syndrome.  I fer real feel that from time to time, so it helps to remember.

I will say, the older ya get, the more selective ya are.  Get ready to hand me a Kleenex and tell me to pull my big boy pants up - but recently, a few friends let me down.. took a nice, long trip of which I'd normally be included, but, I learn somehow, the fact I can't move, walk as fast as I usedta (there was a lotta walking involved), is why I wasn't included.  I get it, but, I admit it did make me wonder, were the shoe on the other foot. So..... much, now, goes into "Yeah thanks, I'd love to" or, "Nah, thanks though, you guys go right ahead." Victor, pull your big boy pants up. I know I know, but... I gotta run to the thrift store to grab me some that I can still pull up!

I admit too........ I do enjoy alone often.  It's completely selfish, and that ain't necessarily a mortal sin.  My remote.  My "Pasta salad? No thanks, I've got a half dozen boneless Buffalo wings left in the fridge...  and of course, the lid up thing.

When I blog, I don't feel alone, and I have you to thank for that.

So.

Thanks,

Love, Victurd