ope..........

Beloved Ope. Conjures  up that whistlin' "The Fishin' Hole" song, wholesomeness, right/wrong, love in a family.  Life lessons. filled with mistakes and answers... kindness, humility, it's "goooo-oooood".

Victor, are you REALLY gonna do an entire blog on ope?

Nope, as in yes.  Variations therein.

Like mope, perhaps, when we first awaken.  Awakening at 70-something is a tad differn't than awakening at earlier ages.

At an earlier age, it's "Get outta my way.... (chops brushed, clothes thrown on, bowl'a cereal downed)..  places to go, people to see." 

Then, you dope (< that be me) ya mope. Helps me cope, pull me up, even if it takes a rope.  If I fall, get a Doctor and a stethascope, make him be careful, where he do grope.

Brb,studying the list'a ope words. (Leon might say, "I'm up on the tightrope.")  It's a slippery slope.

Victor?  What made you go to this scope? BECAUSE!  I was gonna do a blog on differnt personalities... you know, like..  dancing to a different tune...but I couldn't find if that original quote was dancing to a different drummer... or, dancing to a different song, or dance to a differnt tune... Victor, the saying is actually "March to a different drummer". Gee thanks, now BEAT IT!

I prolly shoulda just stayed with that, cause 6 letter words ending in ope, no help. Thankfully, seven letter words, like syncope (which, means temporary loss of consciousness) and now, I gotta pee, which, could also be written o pee. (AI just helped me with another, confirming, pee DOES have isotopes.) You're welcome.  Victor, stick that in an envelope, saddle up an antelope or a jakalope and mail it to somebody that cares. (Which, reinforces my original idea, different drummer)

A little diddy, about Jakalope and Penelope. Criminy Victor, speed it up.. how many more letters until you get to kaleidoscope?  Four.

Wow, all these beautiful ope words. I bet Moffitt knows em, I ain't got no ID. 

HEY! I was lookin' at Earth thru the telescope and now I can't see it!  "It's because we're on the other side of the moon Christina, now go see if that toilet flapper is still workin'.

I shoulda actually stayed in bed. My horoscope tells me, "You're on the downslope." Funny ha ha, now take this coloscope and stick it where the sun don't shine 'cause I don't think we can see it either.

Misanthrope.  Don't go there Victor, we deal with them basta's daily.

There there's nasopharyngolaryngoscope. The hell is that Victor? It's a scope for looking down someones larynx. and it's also THE longest word ending in ope.

The LONGEST! YAY, are you finally DONE??

No.  scope, stope, myope, prope, ibope, cbope, icope, skope, ifope, skope, irope, loope, deope, ucope, esope, wsope, slope, grope, shope, whope, iaope, hbope, ncope, ilope, hhope, arope, cmope, oeope, fyope, etope, trope, elope, crope, alope, acope, ccope, ijope, hope, spope, idope, seope, asope, isope.

Victor?  The hell is all them, and, ARE YOU DONE?  Them's the Boy Scout list.  Huh?  Uh huh, 'be prepared', you know, 5 letter words in case you see 'em on Wordle. 

Done?

Nope. One more.

Yes?

Europe. as in where my friend Pup (and wifey Margie) are gonna fly to today.

Night Pa.

Night Ope.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jZYlY_8zi8k

 

 

 

 

A little diddie, 'bout Geno and Dawn........

Advance apologies, another dadgum sport's blog.

Or is it.....

 Luigi (I didn't know that) 'Geno' Auriemma is the highly successful (How highly Victor? Ahm, he's won more games than anyone.) UConn coach with 1.288 wins.. and more National Championships (12) than anyone..  He's the UConn coach...  they had won like 54 games in a row........... until......

Last night.  

Dawn Staley, she's pretty much done it all as well... played professionally eight years, three time Olympic Champ, also coached an Olympic Champion team.. and her South Carolina teams have won three National Championships.

Combined, they've won half of the last ten National Championships, she three, he two. Some call that the "Crème de la crème...caviar... Boardwalk and Park Place of women's basketball.

They played last night in the Final Four, and if you're a basketball  nerd like me, it was damn near as big as Caitlin vs Angel, or Angel vs Caitlin National Championship game a few years back.  Almost, but not quite.

It was WEIRD.  Geno, normally calm, reserved, hands in pocket, wasn't that.  Dawn, admittedly pretty intense (I liken her style to a 1960-something high school football coach... can giveya one'a them stares, "Yes ma'am, I'll do WHATEVER YOU WANT." Works.  Each. Both.

Except last night.  While I'm not a fan of kids, players, having fear as a motivating factor, Mr. Geno ain't perfect either in that he constantly humiliates teams  by 30, 40, 50+ points, continuing crazy defensive pressure, not subbing until very late, all legal, just rubs some (including me) the wrong way sometimes.

UConn, could not make any shot beyond a layup, mosta the night. and that had a LOT to do with South Carolina's tenacious defense.  Uncharacteristic of UConn. Geno too. He was flustered, beside himself. It's really too bad he wasn't BESIDE HIMSELF to stare, listen to himself as he was interviewed on National TV, between the 3rd and 4th quarters, his team down 43-39. Looked like maybe he hadn't taken his meds.  Griped about refs, "called 6 fouls on us, 0 on them, one'a my girls got her jersey ripped open, no call, the way SHE (Dawn) talks to the refs, I'd get tossed." He then dropped an S Bomb.

Frankly, I was embarrassed for him. It got worse, as did the butt whippin' (62-48). Geno approached Dawn with seconds left..  he had to be separated... his kids shook the hands of the South Carolina players...... he didn't, headed for the locker room.

This is where you think an "I've come to my senses" at least partial apology would come out from him....... instead, he doubled down in the post game interview.  

His gripes were about her, her players, accused them of 'dirty play', etc.

Who knows, maybe so, BUT... that ain't a gripe with them, that would be a gripe with the refs.  Just my opine, but it was a really ugly look for Geno Auriemma. 

Who knows if he'll "come around."  I am guessing, were the score reversed, he would expect her to shake hands after the game like opposing coaches had the previous 54 games in a row.

Fifty-four times in a row the losing coach did the right thing........... this time (just my opine) the losing coach blew it, in more ways than one.

Besides, I had ten bucks on UConn, dadgumit!

Love, Victurd 

 

Confessions of a post turtle.......

I don't think I've ever, literally, seen a post turtle.  It would be sad, cruel, and wonder would set in "howinthehell do I get this thing down and still have ten fingers intact?"

Internet learns us "A 'post turtle' is a metaphor for a person in a high ranking position who clearly reached that spot with the help of others, rather than through their own abilities.

"They often have no idea how they got to that high position, and, they don't belong there or cannot function effectively there."  The article I read said it's commonly used to describe politicians or leaders who seem unsuited for their roles."

Hey, I just blog here, and, I steal alotta crap, thus, what the shell, color me a big ole green post turtle. (I AIN'T saying "I am SOMEBODY".. I'm saying, I cheat.) I certainly don't mind being called that, and, I resemble that remark. Daddy sang bass, mama sang tenor, post turtles/some bloggers,  lip sync.

How this all fits, well, it really doesn't.  There's a lady on Facebook, she heap popular here in KC (co-hosts #1 afternoon radio talk show, she's fun, funny, show is creative, that's the way uh huh uh huh I, and most people, like it.)

Anyways, she's been getting, for months, vitually the same call three times a day from a 'Marissa Morgan' a scammer who portends to work in the underwriting department... "calling regarding loan approval... in final review.. want to go over final aspects.."  the talk show lady blocks her number, not long after, calls back from a different number...  again and again and again.

i get the same from DirectTV. At one time, I did use them.  They don't call me three times a day, but, at least once a week, I block the number, and yep, soon, from another number.  Annoying.. like me!

Listeners (to the lady's show).. "My husband answers the phone "security desk..this call is being recorded. State the name of your emergency." 

Yet anudder listener suggested..."Answer and speak a foreign language…once you say 3 phrases they don’t understand they will hang up. I’ve wished them Happy birthday, ordered 2 kilos of ground beef and recited my foreign mailing address…but all in Macedonian language and they always just hang up." 

"My brother blows his lifeguard whistle in their ear."

"I just keep saying 'Hello?... hello?' and pretend I don't hear them. Went on for 20 minutes one day.  They did call back the next, but, after two minutes, they never ever called me again."

"I answer in my Donald Duck Voice and say Hewwo several times and they hang up."

I use "I  run a farm. I tell them I'm a little busy but I'll try to get through their questions. I then act like I'm yelling out the door telling my horse Wilber to stop trying to have sex with the pigs. Then I act like my wife goes out to try and stop the madness and I beg her not to but she still goes, I then yell 
Sh*t! Wilber is trying to mount my wife!" At this point they are saying they will let me go. I'm like "oh no. Apparently what you have is important because you call me 4 times a day! So tell me what's so important?"  Usually they hang up.

"Air horn."

"You are caller #10" then, hang up.

“I am planning to audition for The Voice next week. I’ve been practicing Sinatra’s “My Way.” Could you tell me what you think?” 

"What are you wearing?  Wanna know what I'm wearing?"

“Can you belch the alphabet? I can. Here, check this out…” 

OK, it's probably just me, I'm a simpleton and I hurt from laughing at reading the crap I plagiarized, sorry, kinda. Of course get on the no call list. (No idea how you do that.) Please don't use any of my suggestions (that's in case you do, someone sues you, you in turn sue me. Hehe.)

Most of all........... have a nice day.

HEY WAIT!  GET ME DOWN!

Love, Victurd  

It's unanimous......

We never, all, agree completely.

Take New Years Eve for example... most don't, but, Otis might suggest to you "It's amateur hour." 

Pretty much, same with today, April Fools' Day.  Fun, or none.  Those that always indulge, and them that aren't all that enthralled with life (interacton therein with others).. "Go away kid, I don't want any Thin Mint Cookies."

 I'm kinda stuck in the middle on April Fools' Day.  While sure, I have participated, and you probably have to, my perk is hearing, reading what others have done, gettin' my LMAO thataways. "Go away blogger, I don't want any AFD stories."

Too bad, so sad.

Toothpaste as Oreo filling. (They never said whether ya use a butter knife, or, tongue/fangs to get ridda the original yummy stuff.)

I saw pictures of cubicle people. I lived in cubicle land for quite some time.  What I remember, we were all grossly underpaid, spent an inordinate amount of time on Facebook, conspired together on how to make a manager's day hell.  Thus, AFD, right up the alley of a cubicle worker.

Yes, fill ones area with balloons... stryo packing peanuts... shrinkwrap the whole damn thing so there ain't no way in or out.  Cover EVERYTHING in sticky notes, or, aluminum foil, or, newspaper, or, Christmas paper..  and my own personal fav, bring your wireless mouse from home... plug it into buddy's computer... (take the mouse withya back to your cubicle).. every so often, move it.  I would think that would be especially fun if you had a bird's eye of their cubicle as you did.

Huggie diapers, open, with poured Mountain Dew and tootsie roll bits on 'em, allover their desk. 

Draw a spider on the toilet paper. There was a rumor in my hometown, a guy got into his buddy's house, stole every left shoe the guy owned.  Funny haha, had to wear golf shoes from trunk to work. Freeze a bowl of cereal and milk,  Serve it.

Flip the display screen upside down. I tried, couldn't do it.  Mebbe Moffitt or Terry can help.  Says, press CTRL ALT and Down arrow same time (opposite to return it to rightside up.)

Wiki actually has a page on AFD pranks.  At bottom, in references there's "NPR links to hoaxes", so I clicked it.  "Web page not found", but, don't worry, nonea these have been found either..  Amelia Earhart, 18 & 1/2 minutes of Watergate tapes, Jimmy Hoffa, your luggage, Atlantis, Waldo... funny haha.

As an aside, my all time favorite AFD, 4/1/1970, our Senior year.. a snow day and it wasn't a prank. Great mem. 

OK, I'm bored, so, I know if I am, you are too.

PLEASE, if you've partaken in any fun pranks, please share.. or.. if you've been the victim, please share that too........

Happy AFD,

Love, Victurd 

If only it was just Jazz, BBQ and Fountains.......

We, as a people, I think, have a sense of pride in our hometowns.  The little suburb of Kansas City, where I live (Liberty, MO)... is a wonderful place.. but, 'the claim to fame' in it's 250 year existence... "Home of the US's first, daylight bank robbery" (Gee thanks Jesse James)....

Our big neighbor, Kansas City,  of course is known for Jazz, BBQ, Fountains, and, sadly, too many that have heard the diagnosis "You have ALS."  The Lou Gerhig's Disease.. amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. 

40+ years ago, Tom Watson, George Brett and many others, arranged the very first charity golf tourney for their buddies who  heard that diagnosis, and fought that damned disease. (George's best friend, Keith Worthington... Tom's caddy Bruce Edwards,  and friend to both, Joe McGuff, Sport's Editor of the KC Star. It continues annually. 

A brief intro into today's Star..........

I am Sarah Nauser, living with ALS. I was born and raised in Blue Springs, a suburb of Kansas City. i began playing ball as soon as I could and throughout my childhood I grew up on the ball fields. If I wasn't playing, I was the bat girl for my older siblings' teams.

Naturally, I had to have love for my hometown team.  That love only grew as I got older. I would not miss an opening day for anything, including school. As a teenager I dreamed of becoming a police officer. I wanted to be the police officer who had the privilege  to work the Royals games while standing in the Royals dugout.

Shortly after my diagnosis, that dream came true. I worked my last shift in my police uniform in the Royals dugout.  That night I met George Brett and Salvador Perez. George promised to be by my side while I fought ALS, and he has kept his promise.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, some eight years later, Sarah has become one of the Royals most high profile and loyal fans, beloved by players come and gone. Royals players, her heroes, now call her their hero.

 She is a passionate voice for ALS patients who believes that life can be awesome even when it doesn't go the way we want.  Last season, the organization gifted Nauser, who breathes with the assistance from a ventilator, a custom Royals wheelchair on MLB's Lou Gehrig Day.  She got to go to Spring Training to watch this years team. Well, she's ready. More than ready.

A few days ago, she posted an emotional message to the team on Instagram, encouraging players to look up into the stands at the fans who, like her, draw strength from them.  She ended it with "love, Sarah."

 It's way more important, not to mention moving, than anything I could write here, so, thank you for your patience and continued reading.  Included in a KC Star article by Lisa Gutierrez:

"Dear Royals, A new season brings many things. A fresh start. A born again hope and a renewed fight.  I''m Sarah Nauser and for the last eight years I've been in a fight against ALS, or, as some know it, Lou Gehrig's disease.

But just like Lou said back in 1939, I might have been given a bad break, but I have an awful lot to live for.  I live for my family and friends, others in the fight against ALS, and, I live for Royals Baseball.

This organization has rallied around me and supported me in ways I never could have dreamed of.  You all have provided encouragement which has lifted my spirit, fueled my determination and reminded me that I'm never alone in this fight.

For me, what you guys go out and do every day during the season is an outlet.  It's my escape from this dreadful disease. I get to forget about ALS and just enjoy Royals baseball.

It's so much more than just a game to me and to so many Royals fans.  I tell you this because I want you to truly feel the purpose in the game you get to play.

Purpose is what fuels perseverance.  It's what carries me through my journey and will get you through slumps, injuries, setbacks and the long exhausting days of the season when the grind feels overwhelming.

I hope you take a moment to look up into the stands at all of us every game and remember this: you matter.  You are someone's inspiration. You are heroes in the eyes of children who dream of wearing that uniform one day.

You are a source of hope for people like me who find strength, joy and escape in the game you play.

Because of you i am reminded life is still beautiful, that joy is still possible and every day is worth fighting for.

You have lifted me up, given me courage and helped my fight in a battle I was once told I could not win.  But I am winning.  Each and every day. Because I am still here.

It is truly one of the greatest honors in my life to cheer for this team.  So today and every day this season, go out there and fight.

Fight like a Royal.

Love, Sarah. 

 

 

 

ET called, ain't no one answered.......

Somewhere, within 64068 lies my phone.

Victor?  Who cares?

Me.

When the 2002 Buick Century readies to roll...... there's a roll call.  Keys, check. Cigs, check. Lighter, check. Billfold, check. Phone, check. Teeth, check.

Yes, I went to the Landing to watch basketball and have a couple beers. I parked in a handicap spot 30' from where I went to sit.  Before I sat down, I realized, no phone.

A beeline, right back to car, same path, the folks prolly thought I had a foot fetish as I surveyed the floor, around their feet, all the way back to the handicap spot.  No, no and no (no phone).

Car. Nope.

Poured one beer on worry, paid tab, back to car..  "Quit lookin' at ma' feet ya geezer!"

Home. Twice, the trek between the car and the door to my apartment.  Nope.  Inside, the charger cord still plugged in, the plug in thingy dangling nekkid (no phone on it). Six paragraphs and I haven't cussed.

Damnit.

Family helped call the phone.. .spread the word. No phone.

My thoughts immediately turned to DirectTV Sales, and, some outfit that calls from a different 800# each time after I block 'em, funny talker, "From Medicare"... uh huh. They each call me almost every day. We're BVF's (Best Vendors Forever).

So, with my gambling addiction (Bite me, I'm still a little bit ahead since it became legal in Missouri 12/1/2025) I reached 'into the air' to place a bet on Duke, by now 19 points ahead of UConn.  If ya know ya know, ahm, glad, no phone.

Prior to going to slumber, I Googled my old buddy Spectrum (love/hate relationship) to see how much a new (cheap, scroll to 2002 Buick) phone will set me back. I found "$500 off" this one, $700 off that one, this one, $16.99/month for 36 months.. Damnit Jim (Spectrum), simple question, cheap phone, how much?  Never found it.  Eh, I'll check WalMart.com later. 

So, I went to bed, nekkid.

No, not what you're thinking. Nekkid = no phone with me. Usually, me and my BGF (No, not Beverly Gladys French.. .my Best Gaming Friend Sudoku have a couple mad, passionate games before my eyeballs finally cave in.

Did you check WalMart?  Was gonna, forgot, didn't have phone. 

All them dayum numbers. We ain't gots phone books no more in spite of what Steve Martin says...  headache.  Worry.

What if work calls? What if my buddies call?  Monday is a golf day.

Slumber, interspersed with 'pee, wonder what time it is'...  and later,  'pee, wonder what time it is'.... followed by 'pee, wonder what time it is'.

Finally went to living room, computer, looked.  2:20am. Eh, close enough.. I think that's five hours sleep.  Coffee.. Did Wordle, no idea how to transfer results from computer to Facebook, I always do so with my phone, so, just know I got a 2.

OK, 5 damnit. 

On to Daily Sudoku, thank goodness, I was gettin' the shakes.. . Did that, on to The Kansas City Star. Basically the Star told me "Go back to bed geezer, we don't publish Monday's paper until 3am." 

So, watched ABC's World News Now.. .absolutely nothing to do with the two very stunning female anchors.   Finally, 3am, Monday's paper.

YAY! GARY WON THE GOLF TOURNEY!  You'da had to have been here yesterday, but, that's a very good thing.

Next article, "Where has Carlos Estevez's fastball gone to?"  Carlos is the KC Royal's closer who was mostly 'nails' last year.. allofasudden the velocity drop on his fastball kinda resembles the effect TDS has had on whatshisname's approval rating.  i ain't got time, want, nor need to worry about either.

Golf reminded me. OH CRAP, all them numbers... in my phone. This will be year four I've put on a Townie Invitational Golf Tourney for fun, and, to raise funds for Liberty's Shop With A Cop.  It's grown every year and last year we had 50 guys play! The tourney is July 21, but, I need to start planning, getting word out........... but.........

Them fitty phone numbers, gone, all they are is dust in the wind.. or, in a ditch somewhere between here and the Landing. No ID where it is.

Which, brings us to now........ 4:27am, Monday, March something.. oh, the 30th.. I looked for my phone to double check.. forgot.  Saw date on computer. No, not Beverly Gladys French.

So........... thought turned to.......... do I do a stupid blog about losing my phone?

 Victor, people are getting real real real tired of your me, me, me blogs. Bad idea, don't.

Oops. Sorry.

Love, Victurd 

 

1,000 pounds......

Tecumseh, KS, 2002.  Gary Woodland graduated from High School and went to play basketball on a scholarship at nearby Washburn University.  He very much missed his first love, golf, thus, transferred his sophomore year to The University of Kansas.

The rest is......... well, life.  Always goes like we plan doesn't it?  Some, not quite all. 

Whilst proudly emblazoned in shirts bearing the Jayhawk logo, he won four tournaments...  enough good, that he turned pro on 2007.  The World of professional golf is so ultra competitive, and Gary learned same as he played and struggled a tad in a handful of tournaments on the then Nationwide Tour for a couple years.. 

In 2008, he went to 'Q School' in attempt to qualify for the big guy Tour, tied for 11th. good enough to earn a card to the PGA tour...  Struggle was becoming a common theme.. .he missed ten of eighteen cuts before a shoulder injury cut his year short.

Back to Q School in 2010, once again, tied for 11th, here's your PGA card sir. Ahhh, finally, victory in 2011.  The ladder of golf found him ranked #962 in the World in '09, #561 in 2010, and yippee, #53 in 2011, which, included a nifty tour playing in The Masters.

He basically, made it.  Pro golf into his 30's found him consistently making cuts... winning a few tournaments, and jualah, Pebble Beach, 2019, yes, that Pebble Beach, THE US OPEN CHAMP!

So........... you know how life rolls... struggle, struggle, struggle, success, and, then ya coast, right?

Ahm, no.  Maybe for the very few, but there's always struggle within.

August of 2023 found Gary announcing he'd been diagnosed with a brain lesion, and he underwent a lengthy surgery the following month. The struggles of college golf, the Nationwide Tour, a rookie on the Big Tour, all paled in comparison to this.

He continued to meet every challenge.  Four months after surgery, he returned to the Tour where he battled the physical, mental and emotional effects of his condition - where, in 2025, his peers awarded him the PGA Tour Courage Award.

Struggle done?  Not so fast.  

Napa, California, The FedEx Cup Tourney. “I was hypervigilant,” Woodland said, calling out a common trait associated with PTSD. “A walking scorer startled me, got close to me from behind. I pulled my caddie and said, ‘You can’t let anybody get behind me.’ Next thing you know, I couldn’t remember what I was doing. My eyesight started to get blurry.”

It was his turn to hit, and he couldn't. His caddie said "Let's go in." He wouldn't. "No man, I'm here for these guys. I want to finish."  He finished but the emotion toll followed. "I went into every bathoom to cry the rest of the day. I got in my car and got out of there. There are days when it's tough and I'm in the scoring trailer crying, running to my car just to hide it.

He announced in a soon to follow interview he was diagnosed with PTSD. "I don't want to live that way any more.  Opening up, I feel like I've gotten 1,000 pounds off my back.  This has been harder on my family and my team because they just want to help, make it go away, and that's not how this battle goes - but, their love and support is what's gotten me through it. I didn't have to hide it, I could be myself."

 Geez Louise. He gets knocked down, but he gets up again.

And........

Don't look now.........  there's a guy teeing off in the PGA Houston Open in Texas this morning leading by one stroke with 18 holes to play.  Oh, he's 41, that's not supposed to happen. He's had all the life struggles we have, plus. Oh, he had brain surgery.  And btw, just announced his PTSD diagnosis.  Yep, it's Gary Woodland.  Quite a remarkable man.

GO GARY! 

When he was awarded the PGA Courage Award, he pointed the $25,000 winnings to Champion Charities, which conducts research and supports patients with brain tumors, trauma or disease.  Then, he and wife Gabby matched it. That's Gary (and Gabby).

PTSD is a size shoe most of us can't simply fit, see out of, or, understand but we sure as heck can say God Bless to you all who are forced to deal, live with it. Truly. You are amazing.