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 

 

Google this................. Pop-ups............. And, the DMV

Google was officially incorporated on September 4, 1998, by its founders Larry Page and Sergey Brin in Menlo Park, California.

I'm just a common man, usedta drive a common van, and I ain't never had a houndpooch with a pedigree.  I surmise, most 'common folks' really like Google.  Beats the hell outta shoveling snow, scraping ice off windows, driving to the Library (Risking Life <in prison due to late book fines>) to browse the Dewey Decimal System, or worse yet, the Cliff Notes version (Encyclopedia Britannica)...

Google has allowed us to become fat and lazy, with any, all info at arm's length.  What usedta be an all-niter to write a term paper (two if your typewriter was manual) is now an hour dealybob, and thanks to AI, even hella swifter.

Their logo colors are as pretty as a rainbow, they are amazing agronomists/photographers having photographed, then torn up durn near every inch of Earth to lay lines, then reseed.  I'll even go as far as saying I wouldn't mind working there. (They have a bar, Happy Hour).. But, I can hear the salary reviews:  "Schultze, we're watching... you're allotted 15 minutes per break, your average in June was 47 minutes, 12 seconds." Eh, whatever, the raises here are nonexistent anyways.

But.

Pop-ups.

October 10, 2006, Google broke the Guinness Book of World Records for pop-ups in one day, surpassing (fanatic religious door knockers?  Smokey's radar? My unannounced Aunt and Uncle from Iowa? Micromanagers everywhere?)..........

They are now the dreaded New England Patriots, New York Yankees, LA Dodgers, old guy/small town that owns every apartment, duplex, and, Mr. Haney from Green Acres. 

Pop-ups in my lifetime.  I've mentioned Moose Skowron, the beloved NY Yankee first baseman from back in the day... the very moment a pop-up on the infield was hit, "YOU GOT IT" rang from his lungs.

My buddy, I refuse to divulge his name (his initials are TA, Shortstop, old man slow-pitch.  Mile high pop-up, better termed Major League pop-up... "Can'a corn, Tommy's got it" (oops).. Sunny day, no hat (the dummy), somewhat balding by now... the very last second he lost it, came down, hit his skull.... bounced up high, real high and took forever  to come down (kinda like another ML pop-up)  3rd baseman 'Chump' caught it for the out. (Don'tya love nicknames?)  Anyways, after it was deemed TA was OK, and the four inch 'seam mark' on his balding forehead (that stayed for like 2 months) didn't break skin... simultaneously 9 of us on the field rolled on the ground in laughter. 

Victor?  Yeah?  The DMV? Yeah, in a sec.  The rest is more me, so, Snagglepuss left if you wanna.. scissors the paper to cut off this part... won't hurt my feelings..

Age 54, way too old to be still playing slow-pitch, yet, too young for cataracts.  Uh huh, cataracts.  Intraocular lenses put in (weird weird sensation...as he punched em out, cut 'em out, sucked em out, however he did it.... complete white, everywhere, until the new lens was stitched, glued, however put in, then, honest to goodness clarity.

The only problem.............. pop-ups.  Ya ever tried to catch a knuckle ball (hard enough by it's lonesome) when you have One Lens for close-up and the other, for long range.  Hella difficult.

OK, OK... we get it... got it...... but.......  The DMV?

Don't tell my two buddies, and, I guess it's OK if you do cause it still ain't fer sure if I'm going to Mehico for the months of January and February, or not.  Victor that ain't got Jack to do with the DMV?  Si, does.

Passport, needs my passport. I've put it off too long.  Takes 4-6 weeks, and, if leaving NYE, using fingers, 6 weeks would put it arriving last week in November, gulp.

I LOST my recently expired Passport.  Tried doing it online.  "Can't" if you lost your Passport.  Tried making an appointment with USPS to get a new one, "Can't" if you've lost your passport.  Somewhere in the verbiage, hinted, "very serious" if lost. THE HELL are ya supposed to do then?  I made USPS appointment anyways, figured I'd go in, ICE might be waitin' for me..... "Nah, you're good.. we just treat it like you've never had one."  Whew......... "Except...'   Except what?

"Your Driver's License is expired." Wull I'll be damned, it was, three days earlier on my birthday.  "Can't do the Passport until you get that fixed."

Damnit, darnit.  Race to DMV, I had one free hour before I had to leave and p/u grandkids 90 miles away.

Walk in.  47 waiting, 50 chairs.  Knock knock.  "Yes?"   Here to get new DL.  "Your DL is expired, got your birth certificate?" (thinking that would surely git ridda me) Why yes, I do! (In passport folder).. "OK, but I have to warn you, the wait is 56 minutes."

Damnit, darnit.

Finally call my name. I tell the lady, "Look, I had cataract surgery 20 yrs ago, one close-up, one for distance, don't be surprised when I look with just one eye, I won't be able to see the letters. (Happened last time, still passed with requirement "Must have rear view/turn mirrors."  OK, thanks, sit please, read the top line.

Glare. I could not see diddly squat with TWO eyes.  Mostly guessed. After awhile, "Here, take this. (Vision Examination Record) to you optician.. you've simply missed too many to continue."  So now, to WallyWorld Vision Center to get that taken care up. Wasn't expecting that to pop up.

My blogs, I reckon, are like the thing I read on Facebook about the guy who sat amazed for an hour over how amazed he was that his stupid dog chased his tail nonstop for a complete hour...... then he realized he sat and watched for an hour.

Inotherwords, sorry.

Take care.. I'm off to Google vans. common, or maybe even one with a bed... I've always wanted to traverse Yellowstone, the Four Dead Guys in Granite, maybe even the flint hills of Kansas... I may even keep my wonderful 2002 Buick Century and just buy a pop-up.

Oops.

To the outhouse (El Bano) by Willie Maykit. 

Love, Victurd 

Band Camp............ Tune ups........... and a Good Book.........

Band camp never happened because I flunked out on the tonette (recorder)....  I did buy me a cheapy acoustic guitar... learned me some chords....  trusty tape recorder by my side, pressed play...  strummed and hummed (sang).......  played it back.  NOPE.  In the music class of life, I'd be the last one picked if we ever chose up sides......

Tune ups.  Excuse me for a moment (Victor, did you fart?) No, but howinthehell would you ever know if I did?  I am biased, but, my father was quite the card.  He, of late 20-something, and my ma' were at my grandparents (her folks)... Mom had purchased a pair of pants for dad that were a tad too long.  The long and short of it, my father was short.  Not only is the 'dunk a basketball' outta play, I don't think he could even touch the net.  Anyways..... My Granny was needle and thread handy... TBC, paragraph too damn long.

So, Granny went to the sewing room (I assume the SheShed 1940-something equivalent, and took the hems up.  Upon completion, father, he of funny-ha-ha, took the pants into the bathroom... purposedly hiked the hem of one leg up under about 4 inches or so... then walked out into the living room saying nary' a word. Granny was startled, mebbe even apologetic I dunno... it was early in dad and mom's life together, I just don't think she knew him that well yet.   He laughed, let the pants leg out, for life, she'd kinda raise one eyebrow, ciphering him, what he said for the rest of her days.

Bid and Buy Auto Sales....  Also, 'Band Camp' one-time stuff....  My mother, age 56, had a massive stroke. My father was a traveling salesman virtually his entire life. Victor, don't bore us with what he sold....... Too late.  He sold keychains, books (ncluding Funk and Wagnall) , Green Stamps, Plaid Stamps, Jerry Lewis Cinema's, Art Prints, you name it, he peddled it, he abhored Interstates and did the two lane highway thing going to intimate, "people towns."  TBC........

Mom's stroke changed things. Dad got off the road that day... Plan B was get "D tags". fix up old clunkers to resell from our alleyway, and, Bid and Buy Auto Sales was born, allowed him to make'a buck, cook, clean, and go to Safeway in his favorite work slacks (they fit) complete with body putty, paint spray, oil, grease, and the kicker was an extra large paper clip which served to raise and lower his zipper once that thingy broke off.  I can still hear mom to this day, "PLEASE don't wear those to Safeway!"  Dad loved her like crazy, but, he'd smile, hop in the car, and go get groceries (in those slacks).....

I couldn't tell you a carburetor from fuel injector, a starter from an alternator, ie, I couldn't touch the net, nor, play the tonette of auto mechanics.  Dad fervently went to the Dewey Decimal System Library to get it right each and every time, and fixed cars, BY THE BOOK.  That's all bullshit.  Dad tried this, and tried that, and eventually, his cars would run.  Some, better than others.

Back to band camp. I could be confused.  This mighta happened back in those same 1940-something days, but I just know this, it happened.   He fixed the steering column, or whatever it was, shaft, gearbox, rack and (O)pinion.  The car had broken down ten miles from home. "All good" as he dusted off his hands, threw a little Goop on them, pulled up his paper clip............. started the car, headed home.  TBC

One slight problem.  He'd hooked something up bassackward.  When he turned the wheel to go LEFT, it went RIGHT...  and obviously, VICE VERSA.  Had mom been in the passenger seat, pretty sure she coulda "Honey. you're gonna get us both killed, please pull over now and see if you can fix it."  He prolly woulda, but, she wasn't there, dad was of German descent (hardheaded, and yes, it's hereditary)..always up for a challenge.. .so off he went, left and right, er, I mean right and left.. or something of the combined.  Somehow, he proudly made it to the alleyway. TBC

As a punk kid, I'd heard him tell that story so many times I grew tired of it.  I'd give everything I got in savings (which ain't much) to hear it from him one more time.

VICTURD (as your father called you)......... is there a method to all this madness?

Yes, it all equated to life.   Some things we just ain't very good at, and that's OK. Some know a lot about a lot. Some know a little about a lot.  Some, made C's and M's because they spent more time out having fun, chasing chickies, being with buddies.

Pants don't always fit. Zippers break.  It's not the outfit that brings happiness nor makes the man, or, attitude toward happiness.

Of course - relationships.  While my own relationships were certainly outlasted - my folks, both, taught me BOO KOO about life, love and loyalty.

And lastly, sometimes shit happens.  We go left when we shoulda gone right, and, sometimes friends, family, loved ones do as well..  In the car lot of life - ya never, just never, are really sure what's under the hood.  Things don't always go the way we plan. Sometimes it's shocking (people, places, 'friends') and can be hurtful.

What really then, can we depend on?

That's where the Good Book comes in.  Always.

Love, Victurd  

Cue the Muzac....................... Going up?

From the dearly departed........

Good gosh Victor, must you?

It's been established I'm weird... if you're here, mebbe you're even weirder?

Buried within all these blogs (pun mebbe intended) is a blog all about what/where I want the contents of my, to everything, urn, urn, there is a reason, urn, urn  to be strewn.  The tremendously jolting losses of loved ones also jolted me into "That's selfish Victor, it really ain't (or shouldn't be) about you.  Throw the damn ashes in the dumpster behind QuikTrip, or similar."

I very much enjoy learning about people. Oft times, the obit is the last chance to do so, and those still here can and do write some pretty awesome descriptive testaments that bring smiles, as well as sorrow - for their loss.

One fav today and then I promise I'll move on:

She encouraged her children and grandchildren to let their "freak flag fly."  Later in life, she developed a love for rock and roll and, in her late 70's, discovered the music of Queen. She loved Freddie Mercury and spent many hours watching him and the band on Youtube. She hated crumbs and gossip and could never pass up an estate sale."

Does that life not just bring you a smile?  It does me!  

Elevators.

Up. down.  You ever hop on an elevator on the 38th floor and some snotnose (or probable Republican..I'm kidding I'm kidding) has pressed the button for EACH. AND. EVERY. FLOOR?  Uh huh, me too.

You get that sinking feeling in your tummy in descent when all 2** lbs of you seemingly flies up whilst your tummy and your frayed nerves and the rest of you go down?

Does it cause worry that, Otis, the guy who has invented, developed, put in over half the elevators in the World, gets sauced frequently and lets himself in and out of the cell in Andy's jail?

"If you travel to the States, they have a lot of different words than like what we use.  For instance, they say 'elevator', we say 'lift', they say 'drapes', we say 'curtains', they say 'president', we say 'seriously deranged git.'       Alexei Sayle

 Ahm, Alexei.. VICTOR!  STOP!

"If you ever die on an elevator, be sure to press the "Up" button." Sam Levenson

There are only 20 to 30 elevator related deaths per year.  "ARE YOU GONNA GET ON OR NOT LADY?"  

The Guangzhou CTF Finance Center in China holds the current record for the worlds fastest elevators at 47 mph.  On second thought lady, I don't blame ya.  A Mitsubichi Electric elevator holds the speed record for descent at 28 mph, but, Shorty Ellison, Skokie, IL (he of 5'3" frame who usedta be 6'7" and survived the longest free fall ever in an elevator (32 floors) might disagree. 

OK, say you're on a VERY full elevator on the 27th floor.... it stops on the 26th floor.... door opens, there's a fat person like me awaiting to get on..  Do you holler "WAIT, let's take a vote"" or, do you grab your Rosary beads tight?

"After seeing "Big". I wanted an elevator that opened directly into my apartment, just like Tom Hanks did."  Macauley Culkin

How old are you?  Ever dropped off goodies at Fotomat?  Ran to a BlueLight special Taken a Polaroid picture?  Seen a Blockbuster employee? Said 'Howdy' to an elevator operator? (They phased out in the 50's and 60's.)

Karma or humbling or both?  Not long ago i attended a basketball game to cheer for the team from the school I attended...  Looking at the HUGE set of stairs to the bleachers, I giggled to myself "this is where I high-jumped, long-jumped, jumped after perty gals... 
 swallowed the pride of that crap and inquired "Which way is the elevator?"

Kinda akin to rollercoasters...  One of my favorite movie scenes ever... in Parenthood...granny is espousing her love for the rollercoaster "You know when I was 19, Grandpa took me on the rollercoaster.. up, down, up, down.. OH what a ride! It was so interesting that a ride could make me so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited... Some didn't like it... they went on the merry-go-round..  that just goes around... nothing..  I like the rollercoaster.. you get more out of it.."

I'm sorry I don't have a witty ending...but I really do hope your day includes more ups than downs.......

Love, Victurd 

That and This........

(I've already done This and That.)

I'm always late to the party musically.  Witness, recently found love of Pink Floyd, John Prine and now Eric Clapton.  Victor, you ignorant slut. If you drive to Cleveland to see the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, you might notice Eric is in there THREE times (Yardbirds, Cream, Solo career.)  Gee thanks but is it Eric or Erik?

Promises.  Victor, are you gonna talk election ads?  Please please please no.

Mebbe.

But, I was moreso thinking still of Clapton and his song Promises.  I CANNOT GET IT OUTTA MY HEAD.

I don't care what you do at night
Oh, and I don't care how you get your delights
I'm gonna leave you alone, I'll just let it be
I don't love you, and you don't love me

 

I got a problem, can you relate
I got a woman callin' love hate
We made a vow we'd always be friends
How could we know that promises end

 

When two get sideways.  For so long, they'd laid lengthwise side by side, mighta had a hound pooch or a kitty cat 'tween... meals across the table from one another.  Clogged the aisles walking side by side at the Piggly... Same Thanksgiving Party, Christmas, uh huh, equal parts of the others parents.  Inotherwords, EVERYTHING.  Life. Promises.  Meatloaf put it, "I will love you till the end of time."

 

Sideways.  It's not a fun club (I'm a two time member).. Only reason I add it here is, life is, can be, bizarre.  One, well, actually two, go from sweet nothings, to............... nothing.  Weird. Tubthumping, Chumbawamba. Some do get knocked down, but get up again.  Now, with the price of gas what it is, some prefer to be the only passenger (not weighted down) when they drive to the Landing for their two beers.  Hiccup.

 

90 bucks.  (A kiss on the cheek... "All better?")  90 bucks'll get ya a tank and a half of gas.  90 bucks'll buy the family I grew up nextdoor to (9 rugrats) a once thru Mickey D's for Happy Meals.  Who knows math well?  If one was in a charitable mood and wanted to donate the 90 bucks back, say, to help with a $600,000,000 Ballroom, what percent would that be?  VICTOR, THEM'S FIGHTIN' WORDS!  Que Eric:

 

I don't care what you do at night
Oh, and I don't care how you get your delights
I'm gonna leave you alone, I'll just let it be
I don't love you, and you don't love me 

 

JUST YESTERDAY you blogged about 'Positive' this and positive that. 

 

I know, but, this is That and This.  

 

OK, a positive. The freshman football player at MU.  The one diagnosed with a heart problem...  further diagnosis, needs a heart transplant.  Went deeply into cardiac arrest Tuesday... Blessedly, Wednesday,  donor found, that night surgery happened, successful, he's resting, doing well.  We can only hope he breaks the Guinness Book of Records for number of years to live after a heart transplant, 41 (and she's still living, doing well in Mt. Vernon, IL.) Bless him, AND the donor.

 

Fall. Cooler temps. Pumpkin this, pumpkin that. Victor, shouldn't that be 'Pumpkin that and pumpkin this?  Ahm:

 

You cause a commotion when you come to town
Give 'em a smile and they melt
Having lovers and friends is all good and fine
But I don't like yours and you don't like mine 

 

It (present life) is whacko.  We are a nation of this and that, that and this... Us and Them (You already covered Pink Floyd Victor)   Ahm:

 

I don't care if you never come home
I don't mind if you just keep on rowin' away on a distant sea
'Cause I don't love you, and you don't love me  

 

Life, kinda... just don't make sense no more. Mainstream Divorce Court.

 

Where's Judge Judy, Dr. Phil and Jerry Springer whenya need em. 

 

La-la, la, la-la, la, la
La-la, la, la-la, la, la

 

Tune in next month... (Hopefully you guys/gals in LA, San Diego will still be around) and we'll dissect Arlo's Alice's Restaurant.

 

 

 

 

 

 

But who's counting........

Victor, you can't start a sentence with "But..."

But watch me.

If blogs bore you, turn left here.  If numbers bore you, same.  If you want laughter, entertainment, you know damn well you've come to the wrong place.

I mentioned someone asked me about "numbers. readers of your blog" that stuff.

I started this blog in 2005, which, ironically, was the year of the Big D.  From 2005 through 2022, I wrote 1,769 blogs using checkenginelight.blogspot.com.  Somehow, I lost ma' dayum password (several times), reset it, forgot, did that again, same, and the blog disappeared into dust in the wind.

So.............. I restarted in 2022.  Added '1' (checkenginelight1.blogspot.com) and have written 918 additional blogs since.

I don't have "Number of readers" from the first blog, but, using the average number of readers per blog on Blog1, (91.84 per blog), it's been read 246,788 times.

Victor?  You bragging?  Hardly.  With age comes tree rings. Worn out chairs. Coffee spilt on numerous laptops, desktops, yada.  To liken all those blogs in all those years with all them readers, to playing pool acumen (pun mebbe intended) after years at the billiard table... George Burns said it best... "Sex at 90 is like playing pool with a rope."  Ya know?

First......... half of the damn reads (prolly) are from when I clicked it again to correct errors - and sorry, I know they still come thru.

And certainly, one hella amount of readers are fly by, searching Google for "The check engine light came on in my 2006 Honda Accord, now what?" 

I think too............... many are lost due to language........ Strangely, only 24.5% hail from the US... Brazil is next at 12%........ and, TAKE THIS JOHNNY CASH, I've been read in Mehico, Argentina, Vietnam, UK, India, South Africa, Singapore, Canada, Turkey, Pakistan, Uruguay, Columbia, Germany, Spain, Russia, Bangladesh, Indonesia, and a bunch listed at "Other."

I'd say hi to them all, but, if you remember right, moments into Mehico I about peed my pants because I had no idea what you call bathroom/restroom in Mehico.  El bano, tyvm, whew.  No sprechen sie Deutsch.

Do you write for attention Victor?  Don't answer, we already know.  Yes, but mostly not what you think.  For 20 years, I've been divorced.  Sure, two 'live-in' relationships. four or so years total, but, mostly me, myself and I. Que, Are you lonesome tonight. I've noticed, walls aren't much for conversation.

I do blab, but truly, only here.  If I were seated with you and s'more people... well...one friend labeled me "deathly quiet." And, that's true.  Better thought a fool.

I like life. I like light. I enjoy laughing. Smiling.  Could be just the recent times, but there seems to be a hole in our bucket and we don't get near enough of that crap anymore.  Thus, I try.

What those numbers won't tell you is........... probably another 5 or 600 blogs never published.

The book I will never write is entitled "I'm positive, I think."

That's all I try to be here and you'll never know how much I appreciate your eyeballs.

Oh happy day.......