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 

 

 

 

People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)

Just because we get around (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

This, is an ALT, not to be confused with a BLT.  Aging-Lettuce-Tomato. Stealing the lyrics from The Who... and tips on aging gracefully from Ecumen.  All, thieved. Sorry, kinda, you're used to it.

Why don't you all f-fade away (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
And don't try to dig what we all s-s-say (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm not trying to cause a big s-s-sensation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm just talkin' 'bout my g-g-g-generation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

Do something you enjoy every day.  Whenya awaken, thinka five things you're thankful for. For instance:  awakening.. Chili Cheese Fritos..  I can still walk (not far, but I can)..  friends... pets... in any order

My, my, my generation

Work at friendships... congratulate yourself... Embrace change... Learn, exercise your brain continually.  Know yourself.  "Hi, I"m Victor." "Nice to meetya Victor, I'm Victor, and I've seen you do some really stupid crap." "Takes one to call one."  You know what you like and don't like and have the power to emphasize good.

Why don't you all f-fade away (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
And don't try to d-dig what we all s-s-say (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm not trying to cause a big sensation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I'm just talkin' 'bout my g-generation (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

Get a massage frequently.  YEAH BABY!  Touch feels good and it's so relaxing.  Be gentle with yourself, listen to your own inner voices and senses (that's some scary stuff eh?) and do what makes you feel best.

My, my, my generation
My, my, my generation

Eat with friends and family.  Prepare food together. Eat the things you like.  Eat smartly, but every once in awhile line up a row of warm chocolate chip cookies and dip them in milk.

People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Just because we g-g-get around (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
Things they do look awful c-c-cold (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
I hope I die before I get old (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
This is my generation
This is my generation, baby

Get sufficient rest.  Living takes work, we all need a break. Laugh and cry, but, more of the laughing. Something about endorphins.

My, my, my generation

Smile, a lot. Pray, daily.  Spend time with other generations, you can learn something new from any age.

 
[(Pete Townshend & John Entwistle) Roger Daltrey]

WHO?  Uh huh.

 (Talkin' 'bout my generation)
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) My generation
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) My generation
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) This is my generation, baby
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) This is my generation
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) This is my generation
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) This is my generation
(Talkin' 'bout my generation) This is my generation

Write. Write a letter.  Write a blog (HOLY CRAP, what an idea).  Write a poem, a journal. Helps ya think, express and generate new ideas.

Dress in current style. (I call BS here.) Travel. Exercise.  Drink and eat...... in moderation. Realize, although your body deteriorates your spirit grows stronger if you let it.  Treat others with respect and dignity, we find it's a two way street.

Cut down or eliminate multi-tasking.  Walk. Get a pedometer and take 5,000 to 10,000 steps a day.  Walk in a pool if it's easier.  Keep your weight at a healthy level.  Don't fear aging, grow to the very last breath.

It's me again.  As I transferred this from the article to the blog, after awhile I stopped trying to insert 'funny ha ha'....It is serious stuff, but... not too serious.  Seems as our physical prowess wanes, the hardest part is the mental.  At the risk of "Dr. Laura'ing, or Joel Olsteen'ing, enlist help, friends, professionals if need be.  Most of us probably have better insurance than at any point in our lives - don't fear using it, as we certainly ain't taking it with us.

Talkin' 'bout our generation.  The best. Greatest music.  The Golden Rule. Character, with characters within.  Creating our own fun (still can).   The want to help, assist, be nice, kind.  We learned from the Greatest Generation then took it onboard for ourselves, and those after us.

People try to put us d-down (Talkin' 'bout my generation)

It's ok.  We know who we are.

Love, Victurd 
 

I see your red door.......

Doors are interesting, that's an open and shut thought eh?

Don't let the door hitya where the Good Lord splitya!  Show them the door please. Knock knock knock'n on Heaven's door..... 

You make a better door than window..... Check your ego at the door....    Get one's foot in the door...  Open door policy...   Shut the front door........

Friend was on a cruise, fire in the kitchen... allofasudden, four hundred and however many doors automatically shut. 

I grew up in the home of an old Dentist..  he was wheelchair bound, so all the door handles were well below regular height. (I know, aren't  you glad I shared that, your life will never be the same.......... sorry... kinda) 

Door dash...  Sliding door..  Storm door... trap door..  

Entrance.  Closed.  Fire door, use only in case of emergency.  Men's.  Women's. Family.  Whichever.

Three couples, 40-something, at the hotel.  Been to the pool, each, drink in hand. Elevator door up to 4th floor.  Just before arriving at the 4th, funny haha wife of hubby standing right infronta door, "Pete, can you hold my drink for me?" Sure.. As the door opens, down go his swim trunks.  Oops.

Story on Facebook today, Betty White - 1950, the day and age when women weren't allowed in board rooms, but, expected in the kitchen.. had her own variety show. She had a really talented tap dancer, happened to be a black gent, performed weekly.  Network said, "Southern Stations threatening to take the show off the air in their markets if you don't take him off the show.  Take him off the show."  "I'm sorry, I'm not taking him off, live with it."  Then, she gave him more time. Network dropped the show from every market. "Betty always found another door."

The Doors started performing in 1965.  Lead vocalist, songwriter Jim Morrison died in uncertain circumstances 6 years later - yet, in those years prior to his passing they recorded six albums, sold over 4 million of them, as well as 8 million singles.

 September 17, 1967, the Doors would perform "Light My Fire" on the Ed Sullivan Show.  Executives asked the band to not use the word 'higher' due to a possible reference to drug use.  They either forgot, or, used it on purpose. Neverless, six future shows with Ed were cancelled.  The Doors found another door - and soon after performed the same song on The Jonathan Winters Variety Show.

Buddy'a mine, buddy'a many (ie, well liked).. Billy Jewell College, circa 1973. At the end of his Freshman year, a Dean who seemingly had a thing agin' him said, "Don't come back next year, we don't really want your type."  Showed him the door.  Went to another University, got his BS.  Then, his Masters. Then, Doctorate.  Dean, long gone, soon, "Hey, here's your office door, we'd love to have you on our staff."  Uh huh, Billy.  Karma provided him a nice career, even retiring from "we don't really want your type".

1980-something.  Kansas City International Airport. Beautiful terminal A, automatic, all glass doors, led to checkerboard wood floors in the building's entirety.  Once, twice a year, Bambi would see reflection in door, think, "I'm gonna run say "Hi"", oops... was a deer facade... anyways.... I will NEVER forget that sound as the frantic deer ran from one end, past gates, baggage claims, ticket counters, all the way to the other end.  Clippity-clop'ed, a thousand times over.

I done runned outta door stories.  Oh, one more I guess. Buddy of mine, heap big KU fan, awhile back planned a sale's trip in New Orleans simply to time it when KU played in the Final Four basketball Tourney. Prior to the days of Stub Hub, Tickets For Less - he marched up and down the street, finally buying one ticket from a scalper.  Pranced up in his Crimson and Blue KU duds, handed the ticket taker his ticket.........."Sorry Bubs, that's fake."  Damnit darnit Jim.  So, he went, explained Lucy to a nearby cop.  Would not give it up. Finally, after twenty minutes the cop says "Alright, alright... we're gonna walk up to the Door of the Superdome, I'm gonna open the door, you shake my hand, and there better be something in it."

Doors keep us warm, protect... allow depressed ones to hide.  Others, go, meet greet, get married, have beers, go to church, work, shop, yada. Ya can't do much without doors.  Doors are ends, beginnings, where we meet 'deer' friends.

Favorite doormats.... "Don't just stand there, bust a move."    "The dogs only bark at ugly people."