My broker is EF Hutton and.....................

DANG! You haven't paid attention here haveya! i ain't gotno broker..... while you, and you, and you, and you over thereeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee... were busy, facepaced young pups dumping buckaroos into 401K's (YOU CAN'T TOUCH THIS.. DON'T TOUCH IT.. DON'T TOUCH IT.. Ya mean no second mortgage? NO!.. We can't take no funds out and buy a real nice camper? NO!  YOU CAN'T TOUCH THIS.. DON'T TOUCH IT.. )

I was...............................  60 when i thought about being 60.

Pardon my French........... merde.  (AI or Google, I forget which, tells me that's 'sh*t' in French... or, an exclamation of frustration, similar to 'damn', or 'shoot', or that other one.

ie, IB Po', and that's ok.   It's not the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it, but, it is what it is...... I've got my cardboard sign/idea all ready...... Later, I'm heading out to the intersection of The Corner Cafe (just down the road apiece from Aldi's).. a bit past where are the regular beggars like me line up (usually they're at the entrance to Wally... this is the next light)... 

And the sign says you got to have a membership card to get inside.................. no damnit, that ain't it...................... the sign says 

"Forgot my quarter for Aldi's, can you help?"  (I know, I ain't gonna stack George's, but hey, mebbe they won't gimme mean stares.)

On a serious note........ I do get uncomfy at those intersections...  the deep stares into the car...   I'm torn between "Damnit Victor, throw a buck out, true, probably not a real need, but, ya just never know, maybe you would be helping"....  and, the other part of being torn, "HEY! I BE PO' TOO!"

But this blog is really about namedropping today.

Victor, I give up.  You are one messed up dude.

Eh, oh well, mebbe. Prolly.  Sticks and stones........ hurt.

George Brett and I went to different schools together.  That's my #1 namedrop.  What celebs have you seen in 'real life'?  When I worked for an airline........ Lucille Ball (you don't wanna know, she tweren't especially pleasing to work with).. Dom DeLuise...  he was FUN..... FUNNY.  Ferguson Jenkins....... BIG MAN. Wowzer.

I can jump in my car............. ok, you're right....... cripple my way to my car........ ease, grump, groan whilst I get in.  Drive, and in 20 minutes, go past Eric Stonestreet, Bobby Witt Jr, and, he done moved Whit Merrifield's old house.  Rumor afloat, Vinnie, as in Sasquach Pasquantino's house is being built, nearby his shortstop.

NAMEDROP NAMEDROP.

TAG. You're it. TELL US YOUR NAME DROP STORIES!

FOR LIBERTY EYES ONLY!   Huh?  Yeah.  July 21st, our 4th annual Liberty Townie Golf Invitational...  it's a prestigious (HA!) golf tourney I put on............ for.............. fun.  It's mostly guys who played in Billy Barne's Sunday Night beer softball league for 30, 40 years (beer, softball, prolly in that order).. or.. for those who worked, lived, went to school, in LIBERTY. It's by invite only (Hey, color us cliquish, we don't care.) Victor? Wouldn't that be "YOU don't care?"  Correct........... I don't care. Friends. It's for friends.   BUT TOO.. .we are raising money for Liberty's Shop With A Cop... kinda proud of that.  Last year we asked everyone for ten bucks... raised $640, not much, but HEY, helped some kids.

This year, we're yanking 20 bucks outta everyone's pocket... so..  with fitty or sixty of us, we hope to get $1200 - $1300 or so for, a Merrier Christmas for kids in our town.

Soooooooooooooooooooo...  you Liberty folks........ my goal is a seven minute speech about Liberty.......general crap...  year founded... them big buildings.. you know.. the Arsenal (it ain't there no more, was by the river, which, don't bend thru there any more.. No merde, they moved it, cut out the bend......... other big buildings..  The Liberty Ladies College (which, burnt down, now, the old High School stands there..   WJC College... Odd Fellows Home... The Courthouse........... WHEN, WHAT YEAR for each? I hopeta have answers.

Then, I'll try to Liberty name drop...... like..... Bob Barker took Navy pilot training at WJC during WWII...   Carry Nation, ironically, lived catacorner to The Corner Bar way back in the day.... Pavorotti and his voice graced our town (WJC)...  Reagan rode thru.. I dunno... prolly more...

And, no promises, but, I'm gonna try to get up to the Clay County Archives, peek thru old yearbooks, see if I can come up with pics of when the golf participants were actually young.  If I do, I might have to get my "Forgot my Quarter for Aldi's" sign out again 'case them critters charge 25 cents per copy... and, scroll to IB PO'.

That's all.

Glad, ain'tya?

Love, Victurd 

"Does he want anymore beans?"

This, this came from my beloved mother inlaw as I was indoctrinated into the family.  Her way, I think (hope) of officially welcoming, liking me.

As I awakened, and wiped, warshed, 'yesterday' from my face... thoughts raced (does anything really race when one is retired?).. .thoughts raced to Nothing.  Full. Relatives.

So, from the first sentence... "No thanks" (I'm full.  Didn't want nuthin more.  Relative. All three).

How are you and YOUR relatives?  Bright bright bright spots in our lives - and it's my hope you still have many still with us... that you communicate with good frequency.. there is something special, lifelong - about blood. (Inlaws too... in divorce, you NEVER lose your love for inlaws... just the legal relationship to.)

Full. Dunno where you live.....Storms, rain, wind, repeat repeat have made our creeks, rivers, lakes and ponds FULL.

Hail (Hail, the gang's all here), hail and more hail, got folks outta their easy chairs to clear out garages so they could keep the SUV from getting pelted.  There was a pic on Facebook of a car in a driveway (either the garage already had the max of cars in it, or, too lazy, too late to clean a spot for it) and it had a mattress cover AND two mattresses atop - no hail damage for it.

Nothing, is my usual daily retirement plan.  I'm pretty good at it. You?  Ya got any trips lined up?  I'd love to hear.  I've had buddies recently travel to London, Thailand/VietNam, Mehico, Jamaica-man, Vegas, Maui, yum to all. Me?  I'm lucky to make it to the Mall.  Am going to Field of Dreams sometime this Summer, that's a big'n for me.

Full.  Went to Sam's Club, cheapest gas in three counties..  watched, (gulp) with one hand over one eye as the dollars added up... lo and behold, the car infronta me, he was washing windshield, pump RAN OVER... precious 'gold' ($6 at least) spewed out before he could run, stop the pump.  Sucked.

Victor?  Is this the best you can do?

I know, what I thought to. So, I'll scoot.  You're correct.  I'm full of nothing and, that's relative to me bootscooting. 

Please, share any, all tidbits about beloved relatives..... specific gatherings you miss.. where, what town, who's house were they at?  Did you, do you have cousins close in age?  I think back to Christmas... grandparents, their 3 daughters, families, gathered, small living room (but perfect).. FULL... of love, presents, memories. Nothing to forget, and we don't.

Happy Saturday............. us retired folks getta go to bed tonight, awaken tomorrow.. anudder Saturday........ rinse, repeat.  This nothing life is quite full.

It's relative to a good life..........

Love, Victurd 

Here to there........

Life, kinda.... is like GPS any more.  Ya enter a "whereya goin'? point, and then ya gotta define/enter, your starting point.  (Initially, I placed my fingers on the keyboard HERE (incorrectly, one key off)... then, started typing about all that... and it didn't take long to realize my dayum fingers were not in the correct starting position and my typing looked like: kujwm jubs.. ua kujw,,, 

Which, translates to life, some of us have trouble with any, everything from the get go.

Every so often, I drive across the great State of Kansas  (said no one ever, sorry, that was to get Schwabby all grumpy, he's a transplanted Jayhawk.. .forgets his roots)... 

As I'm driving with the grandkid's house as the destination punched in... I have some "Well ahlll be dammmned" moments when the GPS lady with the sexy voice warns "There's debris in the road ahead."  Saved me  a fender or two by slowing down... then, it pops up "Still there?" You can input 'yes' or 'no'.

Same with cops.  "There are police ahead." I'm glad for that and don't slow down because we old people drive slow anyways. "Still there?"  I ain't a fan of driving fast so I always white lie "Yes" when they ain't there any more.

When my brain was exploring the blog possibilities of "Here to there" (skeery, I know) I Googled it too......... it brought up a board game, something along the line of "Even old people can play it."  My first thought was....  well you little piss ant...ya done think "it's over" for us don'tya? Then, I looked at the clock, realized it was prolly about time for whoever wrote that to get up and go to work... so, I farted, took a nap, had a bowl of cereal (sliced bananas atop)... THERE.  That's my Here to There today... touche' whippersnappers, I don't wish debris in the road for your commute.. but mebbe cops hidden on the side of the road.....

Here to there.  I believe most of us are 'in the camp' of......... had someone sat down beside us in our youth... and told us "Now this is exactly how your life is gonna go..." and they visualized an exact Xerox of how our lives here to there actually panned out.. we might retort "There's NO FRIGGIN' WAY!".........

Way. 

Age, I've noticed, rearranges "here to there."  Bedtime.  Movement (lack thereof). Our bods and wrinkles, which, have transended from baby fat wrinks, to taut, flatbelly six packs,  to belly dunlapped over, to grandma's hands (MISOGYNIST VICTOR!) NO, them's Bill Wither's words, not mine. Grandpa's hands be that way too!

I loooooooooooooooooooooove me some wrinkles. Hours, days, months, YEARS of outside play.  Wiffle ball.. recess... sports junk... pic-a-nics, work.. pleasure, gardening.. walks..   much, compliments of Sol!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  and.........

Laughter, smiles.  We are dayum lucky........the more 'pictures', memories, moments, shared love, wunnerful stuff we accumulate day in, day out... we laugh MORE.. and smile MORE!  Thus, them wrinkles are like trophies of Here to there.

Lordy....  I seen me some pics of 'the 50th Reunion of Charlie's Angels'..  my, my my.  I know too, many men get Botox.. 'help'...   to me, that's kind of a sad "Here to there'....  Sure, looking in the mirror ain't as appealing as it usedta be, but, the lines, the wrinkles.. .represent a whole lotta love. good times... .yes, some sadness too... but, a tribute, to Here to There.  I vote, be proud. 

Here to there memories over the years..... yabba dabba Barney and Fred...  Wile E. Coyote.. the Roadrunner... Mighty Mouse..  Superman... Bo Jackson up the wall...  OJ's 'joy ride'... Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin.. Pong, Pac-Man, SANTA CLAUS!..   teeballers everywhere on their very first path to first base.. . Evel Knievel..  Captain Chesley "Sully" Sullenberger III...  the greatness of Tiger Woods on course driving, but, on road driving not so much... 

"Sarah, get me Helen Crump please" to, texting your buddy in Mehico.

At the risk of sounding like I'm preaching (I promise I ain't... if anything, I'm talking to myself)... as we age, oft times when we consider going Here to There we lean more and more to "Nah... I'll just stay home."  If we don't move, we die.

Where are you thinking about going next?

 Love, Victurd 

Prophetic? The glass is neither half empty, or, half full.

Long ago, a screw fell out of the cabinet door that holds every plate, glass, bowl, I own.  Most, would search high/low for the screw.  Nomme.  I cheered, maybe (probably) even downed a beer.

From that day forward, I now use, solely, Solo cups, paper plates and bowls.

A very kind friend, happens to have an English background, recently discussing a blog, mighta been mine, ain't sure... I mentioned using self deprication quite frequently... she laughed... then, told me "Some is good, sure, but (and then she raised her hand up as high as she could) it gets to a point..........." hinting, stop, don't do that, change your ways, that.

Here's where I mention that wunnerful tune by Phil Collins "I Don't Care Anymore"... which, will probably be closely followed by (once he gets over jet lag, just flew home from England) my buddy Pup who will say "Vic, wake up on the wrong side'a bed?"  There's a wall on that side, impossible.

When you're single, divorced (or, perhaps simply lazy) ya do that... ya don't care.

Already this am, I've waged battle with my  youngest niece in Wordle.  We both awaken too damn early, she, her hubby has a Frito route... me, I just always have.  We were discussing rain today... she texted me......."Yep, rain here too... life in 2026, me thinking I hear it raining instead of looking out the window, I Google it!"  Me too! Grease ain't the word, it's 'lazy', at least for me anyways.  Right Phil?

Phil didn't answer.  He don't care no more.

So.......... of course I Googled "things people do that are incredibly lazy."

The VERY FIRST ONE had me in the mirror!  "I bought new undies to avoid having to do laundry."

I'll only steal one or more from this blog - it was pretty good (This is where YOU, the blog reader says, "Victor, you tell it, WE'LL decide if it's good or not.") Fair enough.  There was a pic of a fancified push button light switch.  A gal, when turning in for the night, wrote "I've thrown everything within reach at my light switch and then just gone to bed with the light on cuz I missed everytime.'  As a rock-chucker from long ago, I could see me doing that.

"Sometimes I don't skip ads because I'm too lazy to move my hand.".... "I ate ice cream with a credit card."...  "When I'm selling something online and someone messages me for the measurements... I find someone selling the exact same thing and message them asking for measurements."

"People who throw kisses are hopelessly lazy."  Bob Hope

It was 3am almost 40 years ago.  A month old baby upstairs.  His two parents, 3am mind you, sitting in the living room, each, with cig in hand.  Baby was colicky. When the 14th colic outburst happened minutes later, a very lazy (smart?) husband stared across the room at his wife......."My cigarette is longer."

Short blog today because.... well, I'm lazy.

Sorry, not sorry.. .tell 'em Phil:

Well you can tell everyone I'm a down disgrace
Drag my name all over the place
I don't care anymore

 

You can tell everybody 'bout the state I'm in
You won't catch me crying 'cause I just can't win
I don't care anymore
I don't care anymore, d'you hear?

 

Just a song before I go...  actually a story.  Do you think I, and other lazy people, Mona lot?  How about this fella?

 

The Mona Lisa is one of the greatest portraits in history.  It's so iconic, you don't even need a picture as you can imagine it already.  It's also kinda small.. 30" by 21", the size of  a smallish TV.   Given that it's a masterpiece, you'd probably expect it to have taken a while to paint.  How long do you think?  Six months?  A year?

 

Try 15 years.  For a decade and a half, da Vinci failed to finish his iconic portrait, not because it was so difficult, but, because he was so lazy.  That's not being judgmental. On his deathbed, the great man himself even admitted to his chronic procrastination when he apologized "to God and Man for leaving so much undone."  For comparison, it took Michelangelo a mere four years to paint the entire Sistine Chapel, around 1,100 square meters.

 

The Paul Harvey crap to ole da Vinci is that, in his times of laziness, he used to dabble filling notebooks with doodles and ideas.  Some of those doodles would later turn out to be inventions that have changed the course of history... ie, some actually 'took'.  A helicopter drawing... underwater diving suit..  triple barrel cannon.. parachute... catapult.

 

Hell yeah 'Vinc'! Tell 'em to leave  you alone, you don't care any more, you'll get done when you get done.

 

In closing, I raise my paper cup and say  "CHEERS!"....  I'm headed to WallyWorld for some boxer briefs.

 

Love, Victurd 

 

 

 

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