Can anybody find me somebody to love?

jk.

 Well, OK. I will admit I'm a tad envious of those that sprouted up on this Earth around the same time I did... and I getta seat at my computer to watch their Danube Fitty Year Anniversary Cruises....  or, the whole fam damily in Cancun feasting, celebrating, on enchiladas, tequila and sunshine for #55.

The last relationship I was in, it was decided (vote was 1 to 0) that I needed a purpose.  I musta misheard, thought 'porpoise' was uttered... so, I cleaned out the fridge (ate everything).. the one on the porch too (hey, when hb is $6.99 a pound, even freezer burned beef tastes yum... At some point later, she coated me with Vaseline, pushed, wedged me out the door. Another one bites the dust.

I guess I could....... I could take 4-5 years, watch my eating habits, exercise (dream on), get down to 190, find, at age 78, some chicky to march down the aisle with... sooooooooooooo, by 2081, I/we too could have a Fitty year anny.

Ya know, I kinda understand Meatloaf and his "Praying for the end of time" (he was 30 when that came out)......... That (forever) is/was a hella long time.

Conversely, when the Pubs finally come up with that Healthcare plan for us all, and me and Mildred could easily look forward to, and make fitty years, we'd each only be 129.

I get Meatloaf looking at it like a prison sentence...  but au contraire, me and Mildred know, we know forgetfulness is gonna come soon.  Not making fun, and I know it's nothing to make fun of.... but, the prospect of one day, oh, ten years or so, getting foggy, getting 'a new' mate every five, ten years, without even having to rent a U-Haul truck, what better?

You know, we could sneak and unlock the side door to Golden Acres during the day, and Mellencamp out later, "Hey Mildred let's 'walker-off' behind a shady tree, dribble off those Alfred Dunner Depends and let me do as I please."    A little ditty, about Victurd and Mildred, two American Octogenarians doin' the best they can.

I know that's all a facade.  I could never get down to 190.  In spite of practiced walker walking, not to mention buying THE very best bouncy tennis balls, I could never catch Mildred.

I'm old. 

I'm real old.  A former coworker (I hate her) just retired (I don't think she's even fitty yet, I hate her), well, she challenged me to a game of Wordle because "Now I'm old too" and I think there was a snarky LOL in there somewhere (I hate her). I lose Wordle every day to my youngest niece, I don't need another snotnose slap on my face.

I jest.  I have plenty of love in my life - that I don't jest of.  Life is good. I'm too selfish to have another relationship (which, might be fancy for "I never could solve a Rubik's cube, why try?")

I'm thinkin' about throwing my geezer scooter in the trunk. My 4 man tent too. Takin' me a Silver Alert trip out West.  Ain't never seen The Grand Canyon.  They still sell them bookmaps? 

Mildred?

 Wanna go? 

 

Somebody call the cops...........

There's little guys (and gals) and big guys (and gals)......

There's little guys (and gals) that go to school daily, see their buds with really nifty Pokemon, Disney or Marvel themed lunch boxes - complete with a matching Thermos, compartments for cold items, cookies, yada, the whole ball'a wax in yum.

The little guys (and gals) who eyeball these, oft times bring their lunch in a paper bag (goodies inside proudly packed by a mom or  a dad), and sure, they're thankful for their yummy stuff........... but just once........ just once........

 Oft times, these same little guys (and gals) come to school looking tired.. maybe in need of a haircut... wearing Wednesday what they wore Tuesday, passing it off as "it's my favorite outfit."

Some, little guys (and gals) can be pretty cruel in teasing, making fun of, at, some little guys (and gals) and, it ain't nuttin' they did, nor, any fault of their own.

Some years ago, as Bruce Springsteen likes to sing, "In My Hometown" the local police department intercepted an ongoing con game and confiscated an IPad.  It was deemed it came from 'Wally.'  The contacted 'Wally', 'Wally' said "Nope, not ours, try 'Wally,com', did, 'Wally.com' said "Yeah it's ours but we don't want it back."

Steps in Police Officer, for story-sake, let's call him "DD"... "Hey, I know. I've had this idea.  Christmas time, there's kids (little guys, and gals) that are less fortunate... howabout we raise some funds, tell 'em we're gonna take 'em to 'Wally' just before Christmas... they can pickout two items for themselves, then, they can buy something for their brothers, sisters, mom, dad.  We'll fetch 'em back to the Station, have wrapping paper there (as well as several boxes of hot pizza).. help 'em wrap 'em, then, have our In My Hometown Access bus take them home to surprise their family.

So, they did.  That IPad?  They raffled it off, and thus began 'In My Hometown''s now annual Shop With A Cop.

One of the big guys (and gals) told me, "Sometimes, the kids go a tad over their limit of funds, and the officers pull out their billfolds, purses, to take care of the rest.  It's really fun to be a part of, and amazing for the kids, families, AND us!"

Yesterday...      73 men sailed out.. on that............. wait.. that ain't it.  

Yesterday...     66 big guys (and gals) gathered...  to supplement bake sales, donations and raffles... they participated/donated/played in their "Hometown" Townie Invitational Golf Tourney..  this was the 4th year for the gathering, but last year, it was decided "Hey, let's add a few bucks for the "My (our) Hometown Shop With A Cop program... did.. they pitched in....  $640 was raised. No, not a lot, but, something.

Prior to  66 big guy (and gals) gathering, local My (Our) Hometown merchants donated gift certificates for dinners, golf, t shirts, yada... to award as hole prizes for the 66 big guys (and gals) and a fair amount were displayed on a table for a Silent Auction.  Their goal was to "at least double" last  years $640. (In fact, they doubled the portion of their entry fee that goes directly to Shop With A Cop).

One of the golfers donated 124 half pound hot dogs for the big guys and gals lunch.. three non-golfers but really good guys and cooks, heated 'em up.  The town where the golf course is (next town over from My (Our) Hometown, bent over backwards to accomodate, 'man' the collection tables, beverage cart, display the scores of golfers in a fancified thingy that put them on the Big Screen TV for all to see.

Folks bid, and bid, and bid for the items in the Silent Auction.  All of the tips from the 66 big guys (and gals) from the beverage cart... a dollar a 'soda pop'.. .all went into that green money bag for My (Our) Hometown's Shop With A Cop program.

Throughout  the day, dropped buckaroo after buckaroo ($5's,$10's, $20's.... "Here, we finished in 3rd place, we're donating it back"...   a guy hands over $50, says "thanks!"...  another, "$40.. yet others, more. A beautiful 80 year old lady that plays every day, wasn't in the tourney, yet, slipped a Twenty in an envelope and wrote "Have fun, for the Shop With A Cop Tourney."

 Lo and behold.......... a couple of Policemen (a guy and a gal) showed up at the end to speak about the program, say thanks, and fetch the funds back to the Shop With A Cop director. 

The goal of doubling last year's total was smashed... more to count, but it's going to be closer to quadrupling.

LOOK AT WHAT YA DONE STARTED "DD", and we, Our Hometown, couldn't be prouder.

Somebody call the cops......... tell 'em, "Hey, in addition to your Shop With A Cop program, thanks for EVERYTHING you do, day in, day out.

In Our Hometown.........in Our Hometown..... 

' 

 

 

Exhale..........

Grease may be the word...... but me thinks exhale might be the answer to every question, true/false, multiple choice, fill in the blank. It follows colds, coughs, setting the thermostat on a cold winter's day, finally hearing it kick in.

Its' an answer like mercurochrome, "have you tried restarting your computer?", "take two aspirin and call me in the morning", "Eat your (Wheaties, vegetables)".  It follows a long day at work, pulling weeds in the garden, a tense, bite one's fingernails World Cup game, a boo boo, an almost fall, perhaps even a romp in the hay.

It's the greatest helper to 'back to normal', "we did it", "that was...(hard, fun, long, rough, scary, unbelievable, expensive, free, perfect, terrible)"...       

 It can be an assistant to road rage, your kid (or grandkid) in the batter's box, down a run, two outs, an follows whatever the result is, good or bad... an old fart looking up his bank balance at 2am on the third Wednesday of the month,  

It follows, someone who's overstayed their visit, leaving.  An hour meeting at work that shoulda taken fitteen minutes, your mechanic handing you the bill that's $112 less than what you thought it'd be.

Moms (and I guess sometimes dads too) shortly after watching the 'little' take his, her first steps... training wheels off, having a continuous coughing fit, finally catching their breath - so, you exhale, catch yours.  Moms are like that, yeah they are.

Touchdown on the runway, slowing to a crawl...  Pulling in the driveway.......

It's very rewarding to me to have friends swing by here periodically... (ex)hale, (ex) hale, the gang's all here, what the (ex)hale do we care....

I care a bunch, and I thank you......... and I always exhale after hitting 'publish'.

Love, Victurd                                                                                     

Pay it backwards.........

Life, in reverse.  My father, he of PRNDL ilk, used ta think he was funny in saying "Put it R for race." Don't get me wrong, looking back (hint, hint hint, the ilk of this blog) my father was a wonderful father.  Sure, I'm biased, but sure, I'm correct as well!

Life today way includes backwards.  Bassackwards some say, others say ass-backwards.

There's the guy who bought the brand new Ford.  You know, the one with the screen "bigger'n your PC at home."  The backup camera.  Well, the guy wrote (mighta been 'called'., I ain't sure) Ford to relate, "It's defective...every time I go to the Piggly Wiggly and backout to leave, the DVD player keeps 'playing the same movie' over and over of the guy putting his hands up, getting run over.  If was funny the first time, but this camera thing needs fixing."

Uh huh.

We've talked about Michael Jackson and his moonwalk. Kris Kross and their bassackwards clothes.. folks, back in the day, labeled 'backwards'.

We know a certain blog writer that 'lives in the past a bit much.'  Forgive me Father for I have admittedly key-stroked here. I likes me some yesterday... sure, the McCartney one, but. all the others we've got stored in our brains, photo albums, junk drawers, minds of friends, yearbooks, newspapers, microfilm, yada yada yada.

We here have grabbed our Crayons and colored Victurd weird because he enjoys reading (NOT celebrating, but reading) obits.  It's a thing with me.  I walk outta a funeral.. there are two schools of thought...   "Good guy"... "Not so good guy."  Fortunately, the good guys and gals WAY outnumber the others.

Recently, the obit of a lady A HUNNERD AND TWO.  We'll call her 'Sal'.  Sal lived a charmed life.  Her first job was in a high rise on the only floor that had air conditioning. She'd ride the street car to work... and years later would look back (is there a theme here?) marveling about how those tracks were torn out.... and then many years later, put back in virtually the same place here in KC.

She rented a room next to a furniture stripping business.... and for many years, bought 'things' (antiques') of the past, sold them as a dealer.  She became well known for her expertise, appraisal and fair prices - all, in accordance with how she was brought up (in the past).. the era... thanks to the efforts, role models before her.

'Sal' was known for her light-hearted wit, keen intelligence, as an avid reader, the kind who would do crossword puzzles in ink... had a natural tact for not letting a grammatical error go uncorrected (speech and print.)  As her eyesight and hearing waned, she never lost her sense of humor. Festive, holiday meals, she might suggest "Next time.. you might try....". When asked "How?" (to 102 years) she replied "This too shall pass" and "All things in moderation."

 The entire obit was a wonderful read, but, the 'gooder' part, to me anyways, is how the family was thankful to all who enabled this charmed, wonderful lady to remain in her house and continue life living on her means.

Without specifically calling it "Paying it backwards", the family thanked many who played a role in that.  The one who gave facials.... another who cut her hair.. .yet another who kept her yard up to Sal's standards.. .the guy who made sure, rain or shine, her newspaper made it on the front porch... another for their weekly 'wine and companionship'..  another who brought her a  good lunch and conversation.. 

The three names that enabled her to remain (and pass) in her final days in her own bed, alongside her cat Maddie.. and of course the entire Hospice crew.  

Paying it backwards is such a wonderful thing.

As we go forward in life - we gotta remember, when backing up, if we see that guy in the video holding his hands up in dispair....... hit pause (put it 'in P for Park')... look at life.. smell the roses... whilst we can.

Love, Victurd  

Purple Passion...........

Back in the day...............  'Xplain Lucy (Victurd), that could mean a year ago, ten, thirty, fitty.. how? Much?

Yeah my bad.. in this case... Fitty plus years ago, Purple Passion was not made with Jamaican Rum... rather, El Cheapo grain alcohol, some kinda cheap fruit punch, and the end result was usually dju-makin-me crazy. (Never forget, I was a sophomore three years in college.)

 Key word, PASSION.  Mind outta gutter, NOT THAT, at least not in this case.

This morning as I sat at the computer... I started singing.  Don't you do that?  I personally enjoy (VICTOR! NOBODY ASKED YOU!)..... ahem, I personally enjoy really deep, bass junk. One liners...... you know, like:

DUKE DUKE DUKE DUKE OF EARL DUKE DUKE, DUKE OF EARL DUKE DUKE DUKE OF EARL............. or.......

Ba-bom-a-bom-bom.. (Ba-bom-a-bom-bom).. (Ba-bom-a-bom-bom)
(Ba-dang-a-dang-dang).. (Ba-ding-a-dong-ding).. (Blue moon, moon, moon)..(Blue moon)...

Daddy sang bass.............

Nonea them tickle your innards?  Holy crap man, go take your pulse!

And then........... and then what Victor? And then it happened?  NO.  And then, the antonym for deep bass songs to love would be chicky songs (said very lovingly) with great (purple?) passion where it feels like the gal singin' could beat you up.

Them Pretenders that I would prolly surrender if they sang with the passion they sing...

"Gonna make you, make you, make you notice... Gonna use my arms, gonna use my legs
Gonna use my style, gonna use my sidestep.. Gonna use my fingers, gonna use my, my, my
Imagination"

Joan Jett's purple...........  "I love rock 'n roll, So put another dime in the jukebox, baby
I love rock 'n roll, So come and take your time and dance with me". Ow! SURE Joah, I'll hop right to it! 

VICTOR!  Huh?  Tell me again which wife it was that said "Victor, do you realize not everyone gets as excited about your ideas as you?"       I can't remember, probably both of them....... which....... brings us to the express purpose, intent of this blog.

NOT EVERYONE SHARES THE SAME PASSIONS...    Example Victor?

SOCCER.

I will say, having the World Cup on our American soil... and at least some of the games, specifically here in Kansas City......  The Passion of the fans is literally second to no other sport.  It's a Country thing.  Comes with all the glitter (bright colored uni's, tops, shirts, shorts, shoes) jewelry, hats, glasses, makup, women AND men.. the dancing. DANCING TOGETHER AS A COUNTRY.  Songs, cheers, moves, smiles, laughs.  The best.  I'm sorry Cheeseheads, Dallas Cowboy folks across the land.. even Mahomey on the range here in Kansas City......  we don't hold a candle to the passion of soccer fans.

I like, love that.

The game, to me, different story..... Offsides? I never even saw 'em snap the ball.  What's extra time?  Do they like put a runner on second base? Did they learn them flops from the NBA? Yellow card, red card, are they like playing Go Fish?  And PLEASE, don't get HIM involved FIFA.

Some say "There ain't no way I enjoy watching 90 plus minutes and nobody scores...."  And, I get that.  Then I watched the penalty kick playoff ending thingy. That was pretty cool.

Bottomline............ passion is a very good thing... and we have different paths to attain it.

You say GOODBYE (and, that you're going to play chess, read a paperback, make (and eat) at pasta salad, do as many planks as you can in thirty minutes.).........

And I say HELL NO...... i don't know why you say GOODBYE and do all that dumb stuff (just my opine, sorry)... and I say HELL NO.... I'd much rather go sit on the Town Square, people watch.. forward silly (but fun to me) Facebook jokes, reels, and then, top it off with two beers at the Landing.

Purple Passion........... red white and blue... or, whatever Ghana's, Curacuao's, Côte d'Ivoire's (who?), Uzbekistan's.. colors are. 

Jimmy Dean........... JAMES DEAN..........   rock on. 

 

 

 

Thoughts..........

There just ain't enough time in life to do everything ya wanna do.

 

There usually ain't enough money to do whatever ya wanna do in life.

 

There are absolutely perfect times in a relationship, be it a lover, a relative, inlaw, friend, coworker, acquaintance. the order-taker at Mickey D's, the guy (or gal) in line infronta ya for whatever you're waiting on, your mechanic, HVAC dude (or dudette), beautician, barber, pedicure performer, preacher, teacher, student, your team, Rover, FiFi, Jerry the gerbil, Mr. Ed, the temperature, the wind, the sun, the sky, the rain, the drain. The mailman, Jehovah's, wanna be councilperson door knocker, the door knocker, handle, sink, showerhead, mattress, cable rep, unknown caller.  Yada.

 

Yada, is all the crap you can't think of offa the toppa your head.

 

Lovers can argue, relatives have hurt, friend(s) might not invite you, the acquantance may ask your name (again), when you debag the cheeseburger in your car you can cuss "I HATE onions", you can tap your toe in line, faster and faster as patience wanes, pull $'s from 401K to pay for mechanic, AC. You may fall asleep mid sermon, teacher lesson. Dog, cats, gerbils, sometimes poop where they ain't sposedta.  Sometimes you don't see it until too late.

 

Rarely, but happens, forecasters get it right, you get soaked going to car to get the carton of smokes you left there.  It's all junk mail, "Sorry, no time today Jehovah's, wanna be elected person, "I gotta fix the door handle, sink, showerhead, that damn spring in the mattress... call cable, scream REPRESENTATIVE!.

 

That stuff.

 

Inbetween all that crap.  Life really ain't bad.

 

You look wonderful tonight. Reunion? First week in October? Cool, I'll reserve the shelter.. Ha! Found a twenty in my jeans, I'd love to go see MU at the Sprint Center or whateverinthehell they call it now, thanks for asking, friend.  It was just a fuse? My AC just needed a good cleaning?  Enjoyed that preach, teach.  All animals, meet at the back door, we're having a party out back.   Did you know regular ole vinegar cleans a showerhead?  I didn['t neither until I Google DIY'ed it. Cable lady was really, really nice.    

 

Life is never perfect, but it's full, hella full, of perfect moments.

 

I'm gonna try, to fit a ton of fun into the day. Hope you do too.

 

(Side note.  Speaking of 'fitting a ton'..  time to rearrange dresser again, today.  Three drawers of shorts.  Top drawer has ones that I can still button at the top. Next one down has ones I can still wear but ain't no way in hell to button de button.  Bottom drawer is my "be for real Victor" drawer. I know I never will, but hey, I keep em.  Well, this morning, shorts from top drawer wouldn't button.  Damnit.  Movin' em down. Drawer two is now drawer three...  Drawer three's contents to be taken to Thrift Store today, and, you guessed it.. will purchase several pair a size fatter to refill top drawer.

 

Perfect, or something like that.    

 

Love, Victurd                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

Same ole same ole......

Venture........

Venture out.......

Songs by The Ventures, which, really ain't got nuttin' to do with this blog, then again, mebbe so....  The Pink Panther Theme... how fun is that one to hear?  And, The House of The Rising Son.....  I know, i thought it was the Animals originally, but what the hey.. .a magnificent song nonetheless. 

People, people who need people (to follow their whims, ways, 'structions.. right Babs?).. 

Folks are concerned about my palate.  I admit to being old, cranky.  As in, hey hey you you get offa my cloud.  I'll eat what I want, when I want, 'taint much of your bees wax what goes in my belly.... 

I likes what I likes.  You don't like fish?  Huh uh, i don't.  HOW DO YOU KNOW IF YOU NEVER TRIED?  I admit to being old, cranky.  As in, hey hey you you get offa my cloud.  I'll eat what I want, when I want, 'taint much of your bees wax what goes in my belly.... 

I don't think I'd ever buy a new recliner.  Nor, one'a them on Facebook that brags "no cat scratches, this is a no pet, no smoking home."  Lived in, I likes lived in.  Gimme discoloration where your fat butt (ie, my fat butt) slides in that easy chair, smokes like a fiend, cats, dogs, turtles, hamsters, whadeva...  Same way with baseball gloves, Taylor Made Golf Clubs (I don't need no stinking Pings)... town..   FRIENDS.

 Sure sure, I enjoy meeting new folks, venturing to Weston for whiskey,  Mehico for something new, and old.. Vegas for the rush.. Florida for the sun... but... whiskey will never replace Miller Lite...  Vegas is a rush, but I cannot overcome the magnetics of the ATM.. and sand gets in my buttcrack, bare feet, car, hotel room, everywhere.  Nice to visit, gimme Same Ole.

Yesterday over a hunnerd old farts, of the Sigma Nu variety, gathered for our annual golf thingy.  Thank Heaven, for little girls.  No, that ain't it.  Well, I do love me some women.  But, thank Heaven, for simple dudes.  We were, are, always will be, simple dudes.  Fun, well done, or, sung to the Rocky tune "doo doo doo doo, take me back."

36 Moss, the best six years of my life.  Same ole.  Venture out Victor.  Screw that, I'm a simpleton, and dang proud of it.  That's sophmoric Victor.  Uh huh, and, that's the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it.  Comfort.  My easy chair.  Worn on the edges.  Something about collars and cuffs never being neat.

We may gather and golf in Smithville, or, The Big E (wow they are pretty courses).. we may continue tradition of our buddy Vince reserving the back room at Cascones where we can holler too loud, return to being 20-something, laugh, cry... do 'it' (it being an age, stage in our lives and, the same ole replication last year, the year before, and again yesterday... it smells good like the Ditto Machine it is.  We don't need a hunnerd and twelve copies a second... crank that handle, bring out the laughs, the stories we've heard 97 times.. again.  Same ole same ole.  But Victor, even cod?

Even cod, patooey.  Continuing where I left off... gathering in Smithville, The Big E, Cascone's......... we always come back to Liberty to rejoice.  If you know me, that highly delights me.  I love me some Liberty.  VENTURE OUT VICTOR! HAVE YOU EVER LIVED OUTTA STATE?  Ahm no, but, have you ever ridden a geezer scooter to the oldest bar in town?  Uh huh, what i thought.  Ya might oughta try it sometime. It's fun, well done.  64068.  The sign at THE LIBERTY LANDING SHOPPING CENTER... may have electronic trouble............ light up as  BERTY         DING.  I like, scratch that, LOV,  BERTY       DING.

I don't needs to live in CA, TX, FL, CO, and don't never suggest KS.  I know 'don't never' is a double negative, but, so is Kansas, sorry, not really, tell 'em Norm!

 That about wraps is up.  I'm getting out my geezer scooter now.  Riding it to Ginger Sues, a nifty breakfast joint just off the square in Liberty.  To meet, same ole same ole 36 Moss buddies from many wrinkles ago.  That's the way, uh huh uh huy, I like it.

Victor?  Yeah?  What are you gonna eat? Jane, you ignorant blog reader, did you just get here.  Be it Hy Vee, IHop, Dennys, Perkins, Ginger Sues - it's 2 eggs, sausage PATTIES, toast (white or wheat, toast is toast), hash browns, surprise me on their crispiness.. .and water.  Water?  Uh huh. As in, hey hey you you get offa my cloud. 

You make no sense Victor.

Yeah yeah yeah, I make no cents either... but, I like me. And Liberty. And my 2002 Buick Century.  And my 36 Moss buddies, their spouses, gf's, kids, g-kids, yada.

If there are errors in this blog, srory, no spare time to peruse for erorrs.  Late for an important date.  Gotta allow time to push my geezer scooter up the hill the last little bit as I'm too fat to make it all the way. Same ole same ole. 

Love, Victurd