Psychology Today.... and yesterday... and tomorrow......

Worry = negative connotation.

Ain't it?

"I have spent most of my life worrying about things that have never happened."  Mark Twain

 English Proverb: "Worry is like sitting in a rocking chair.  It gives you something to do, but, it doesn't get you anywhere."

"Worrying is like paying on a debt that may never come due."  Will Rogers.

I'm a simpleton.  Pretty much all'a that tells me "huh uh, nope, don't do it. You'll shoot your eye out" or something like that.

My favorite kind of worry (IS THERE sucha thing?) I think so.   Dreams.  I dunno about you but I am a BIG TIME worrier in dream.  I have dreams where I'm goofing up on a project at a place I worked over ten years ago.  Momentarily awaken, look at clock (12:37am)  roll back over.

Dream, continued.  I honestly am OK when I make a mistake, but the thought of being construed as incompetent, "dumb", uncaring are all fingernails to the chalkboard of upholding values I learned from my folks (and many) growing up and it bugs the heck out of me.  I momentarily awaken again, 2:53am, sweaty, train the fan back on me, rollover.

Dreams, the final paragraph, mebbe.  I even have dreams where I DO NOT want to goof up as a husband, and I ain't been married in over 20 years.  Awaken, look at clock, 4:34am, logistically closer to 'really time to get up." So, I sit on edge of bed.  Ya know how a dog shakes all the crud/water off when he gets outta the pond?  That's kinda what it feels like waking up from a dream. the realization, "Damnit, GOT ME again" coupled with whewwwww, thank goodness THAT wasn't real."  I hate 'em (the dream, the worry) whilst they happen, but that kind I can live with.

I'm getting WAY off the beaten path.  I've spent a lifetime overthinking.  Short fingernails. Pacing.  Inability to concentrate on a needed task.  I actualy (TMI) usedta be on meds for anxiety, but, haven't taken 'em for two years, and as far as I can tell, HaSn'T aFfEcTeD mE iN tHe LeAsT.

Har.

This morning I was gonna do a blog on "DON'T WORRY (it's BAD for you) BE HAPPY."

Instead, I Googled, "Is there any benefit from worry?"  Lo and behold, Psychology Today had an article from 2020 entitled "Why worry might be good for you after all."

MUSIC. TO. MY. EARS.  Hello, I loveya won't you tell me your name? I know I overdo much.  But too, I've always thought certain paths of worry ain't really a bad thing...  "Health... performance at work.. social interaction.. leading, ie, as a boss, parent, teacher, coach... I think it's ok to challenge one's self "Am I doing this ok? Right?  See any changes i could make to help?"  Yada.

Normally, I steal crap like this, paraphrase and plagiarize the writer.  Instead today, I'm simply gonna paste it below.  And, not worry about it.  I found it of benefit, and if  you do as well, then we're all better off.

Have a nice day. I mean that.  Oh, and here's the article:

https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/common-sense-science/202601/why-worry-might-be-good-for-you-after-all

Love, Victurd 

  

Danger Will Robinson, Toto, Dorothy, and the whole damn Metro area........

We made it.  Safely.

People are strange...  well, that IS true (ain't we all?) but, didn't mean to put it in here.  People are NICE.  Two very caring nieces texting, calling, concerned that I "RUN TO THE CELLAR".  Bless them truly, but they both know I ain't ran since way before 47's 45, prolly even before Obamacare.

There's a text chain of Senior golfers I'm delightfully included in.  It's normally reserved for "We tee off at 8am tomorrow" or, "Ernie has gout, he ain't playin'" or, "too cold", "too hot", that crap.  But, yesterday, all the texts were "RUN FORREST!  TORNADO ON THE GROUND IN LIBERTY!  By William Jewell.  291 and 210"

Those of us that still had power were able to watch vein splittin' out Weather folks begging same ("Take cover now!) with their pretty blue, green, red, ORANGE... "ROTATION IN THAT ONE. SEE THAT HOOK?"  Now I had cataract surgery long ago, but no, can't. I can barely see the ABC in the upper lefthand corner of the boob tube.

It's like anything in life.  Ya watch.  Ya observe.  Ya fret, and I ain't talking about playing a guitar.  Ya worry.

Layoff rumors. Drought.  Bad enuff we ain't gots no hay, even if we did, there ain't nuttin' to warsh it down.  Your Doctor told you WHAT? DAMN, I'm sorry.  That's why I don't go. VICTOR!  Eh, I'll be fine and dandy, right Dolly?  I kinda enjoy hard candy, what with however many choppers I gots left in my jaw.

Hearing "I think I want a divorce", and of course the scientific proven "for every action there's an equal and opposite reaction" in this case, it's like Fred Sanford, backing up, clutching his heart.. "IS THIS THE BIG ONE?"

And........... we're back to Square one........ laying in bed.  Trepid. Dare I/we pull the covers off our noggin' so we can see out the winder...  borrow the speech from Freddie "Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide no escape from reality.  Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see........"  

As I peek, I just gotta know, did the tornado pick me up, twirl round and round, Odessa to Excelsior, Leavenworth to Atchison, Olathe to.......... OH NO, PLEASE DON'T DUMP ME IN LAWRENCE KANSAS.. I ain't a beggar, but I would! 

Life is ALL ABOUT hic-em-ups, riding round and round that lazy river... smiles about..   then holy crap, WIND, RAIN, ROYALS LOSE, SNOW, ICE, BLIZZARDS, $4 GASOLINE, $7 EGGS (Hey, quit yer bitchin' there's plenty of TP in aisle 7.")  DIVORCE. UNEMPLOYMENT OFFICES. the ROYALS LOSE, MAHOMES TEARS HIS ACL, MCL,CDL, LTL, LRC, what the L?  ROYALS LOSE. 

Can I peek out now?  I'm just a poor boy nobody loves me, HE'S JUST A POOR BOY FROM A POOR FAMILY. 

It's a cycle.  But........ we peek out.  It don't look to bad out.  

Wait a minute, it's stopped hailing.  Guys are swimming, guys are sailing. Playing baseball, gee that's better, Muddah, Faddah kindly disregard this blog.

Life comes full cycle.  If you wait long enough, Nurse Ratched has three days off, the Wicked Witch of the East has splinters in her butt... Ernest T can't find no stones..  I've got an itchy itchy rash. Bryclreem a little dab'll doya, ...no wait, I mean Benadryl.

 I'm not a fan of lime, but dayum, is there any better eatin' than coconut cracked open right from the tree?

I just peeked out the door.  I live really close to the weather siren.  Last night it got a long, long workout. I, and some 30,000 other Liberty residents heard it. We was tossin' and turnin', turnin' and tossin', tossin' and turnin' all night.

I see sunlight.  I see the wunnerful 2002 Buick Century under the walnut tree.  There ain't limb one on it. Ain't even no walnuts atop.  Even though, "Houston, we gotta problem".. we only play them once more today, the Astros will prolly kick our booty again, sweep the Series".. .but hey... it looks pretty nice out.

IT'S STILL THE WEEKEND!  What are we gonna do this weekend Bernie?

Bernie?                              BERNIE?                             Oh sh*t.

I'm gonna have smiles, hope you do as well.

Love, Victurd 

Golden Acres and Oh the games people play now.............

Third day on the Job for new Activities Director Jennifer.  She'd graduated a semester early, one of them directional schools, forget which.. but she'd applied, was accepted/hired by Golden Acres, Smalltown, Missouri last week.

Proud she was, as the ink on her diploma was still wet... she had an itch on her ear, scratched it, and now she was literally and figuratively wet behind the ears.

Day 1, she couldn't decide between Bowling, Bingo and Where's Bambi, a new game she kinda liked.  Bowling, nope, figured it'd take too long to gather, setup the plastic pins each time - so it was out.  Bingo, they'd probably played since the first Bush was in office, that's a 'No' as well.

So........... it was close to Christmas, why not "Where's Bambi?"  

 "Ladies first.........." so all six of em were armed with Nerf guns... enough power, speed on 'em to make you holler "OUCH" but, even a direct hit couldn't, wouldn't be causation for another cataract surgery.

The dude, or, "Bucks", outnumbered (there's five of 'em) were given Antler hats and asked to run in and out, and around the Christmas Tree whilst the Annie Oakley's loaded, fired, and "WOOOO-WHOOOO'ED" whenever they scored a direct hit.

 "GOTCHA CHARLIE, TAKE A SEAT MATE!"......"OUCH!" Down goes Bernie..... Archie was fast, agile, and pretty much a fulltime womanizer..  "Missed me missed me, now ya gotta kiss me" as he ran up to Clara for a smooch as she was reloading....  "ARCHIE!" Jennifer admonished... so he ran back behind the tree.

TIMES UP!  Score, Oakley's two, Roy Rogers team, coming up to 'bat'.

They swapped.  Dudes in their chairs, ladies now all Antlered up.. .rarin' to run. "GO!" Jennifer hollered, then added, "Where's Bambi"... "I'll showya where Bambi is" Harvey hollered - they all knew "No way Jose", as Harv had pop bottle glasses, he'd be lucky to get a Nerf bullet within ten feet of 'em. 

For seven whole minutes, the Bucks loaded, aimed, fired..........missed.    Finally, "BOOMSHACKALACKALACKA, gotya Opal!"......... 2 to 1.  Approaching seven MORE minutes, Hank excused himself to go to the restroom, the bucks continued loading, aiming, missing.  They were in a rut, so to speak.

Finally, Mildred screams "YOU SONOFAB*TCH YOU HANK! YOU CHEATED!"  Jennifer was shocked.  Cussin' wasn't allowed, not since that knockdown dragout three years ago in Pinochle...   Bea seen Hank put a slingshot in his back pocket, "JENNIFER! HE CHEATED!"

Seems Hank, a Boy Scout, Boy Scout leader for life, had gone to his room, snatched his slingshot, "I'll show them" and now was in deep doggy do.

Game day #1 over.......................... Hank was given a warning, "Next time something like that happens, nope, you can't join in."  "Scouts honor, there won't be a next time" but, he laughed as he said it.

Day two.  WHACK-A-MOLE.  One afternoon after work, Jennifer took the company van to Nebraska Furniture Mart, went to the loading dock and begged for a dozen of them washer and dryer empty boxes.  Got 'em.  Loaded up, back to Golden, she cut holes in six of 'em big enough for heads to pop out... readied them in the rec area..............  "All gather."

Ladies again went first.  Men were given six foot long pool noodles.. the gals jumped inside the washer/dryer boxes... moved as fast as they could from one box to the next, popped their heads up, hoping not to be WHACKED as they did.  There was laughter, occasional "GOTYAS"..    Whistle blown...  SWITCH PLACES..... 

Archie, Harv, Hank, Ernie and Charlie jumped inside the boxes, now, the moles.  Ohhhhh the ladies had fun timing their whacks whenever a head popped up.."This is more fun than Chucky Cheese" barked Beaulah... Mildred had to pee... took her noodle with her... wasn't long after she'd returned Hank was screamin' bloody murder "DAMN YOU MILDRED!"...   Apparently, Mildred had grabbed a broom handle from the squatter, slid it inside the pool noodle, and more than repaid Hank for his slingshot assault on her.

Jennier ended the game a tad early... sweat dripping off her face by now.

Day three.  Insteada competition, she'd play a game where all would exercise at the same time, not any kind of contest.  The original, Hokey Pokey.

 All eleven of 'em circled up... she started the record player.........

You put your right foot in
You put your right foot out
You put your right foot in
And you shake it all about
You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around
That`s what it`s all about!

 

It wasn't a good start.  On the first "right foot in" three tennis ball walker and one cane went down.  Music stopped, but undaunted, she continued once they were all on their feet.

You put your left foot in
You put your left foot out
You put your left foot in
And you shake it all about
You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around
That`s what it`s all about!

 

Only lost two this time, and, none really hurt. Party on Garth.

You put your right hand in  MYRTLE FLIPPED ME OFF!
You put your right hand out   DID NOT!
You put your right hand in     DID TOO!
And you shake it all about
You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around
That`s what it`s all about!

You put your left hand in     ARCHIE GRABBED MY BUTT!
You put your left hand out     DID NOT!
You put your left hand in    DID TOO!
And you shake it all about
You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around
That`s what it`s all about! 

 

DAY 4.   Jennifer reflected, rethunk all she'd learned at Directional State U, grabbed the Pinochole cards...  Placed Myrtle, Hank AND Archie in time out in the lobby BEFORE the cards were dealt.....................................

 

Smooth sailing. Quiet.  Got along.   Back to their rooms they went, Jennifer walked to the Lobby to tell Myrtle, Hank and Archie they too could go back.

 

Uh oh.

 

They weren't there. Additionally, the Golden Acres van wasn't in it's normal Handicap spot.

 

Jennifer and the Floor Supervisor were able to GPS track the van, by now it appeared to be headed back into Golden Acres.  Come to find out, somehow Hank found a key... they'd swung by Smitty's Liquors... when they rolled back into Golden, Myrtle and Archie were in the second seat making out.... "YOU SAID SCOUT'S HONOR HANK!" "Yeah but had ma' fingers crossed behind my back."

 

Oh the games people play now.

 

Jennifer, who never joined a sorority or even attended a kegger at Directional State U, somehow found herself stopping in Smitty's three consecutive nights for a Bota Box....   She gave her two weeks notice, and even left a week early after she acquired  a behind the scenes job in Suburbia, Missouri in the HR Office of Shady Acres.

 

A little diddie, about Charlie, Bernie, Bea. Archie, Clara, Mildred, Hank, Beaulah, Myrtle, Opal and Harv.... older American kids doin' the best they can....  while they still could.

 

Love, Victurd 

You have the right to remain............................. pissy.

Futility happens.  We've all heard (VICTOR, speak for yourself, mebbe they ain't) the true tale of Tampa Bay Buccaneers football coach John McCay, after the 1976 inaugural NFL season and his team sported an 0-14 record... when asked, "What do you think about the execution of your team?" replied, "I'm in favor of it."

If you've followed the Kansas City Royals this year, my first question, is, Why?  Just kidding kinda sorta but MAN it gets tough to stay, continue to watch.  The first thing that comes to mind is their LOFT with RISP.  The RISP means "runners in scoring position" ie, on 2nd and or 3rd base, and the LOFT stands for "Lack Of Friggin Talent" in those situations.     

 

After projections to win their division with 85+ wins, they are on pace to win only 64 games.  That. Ain't. Good.  Victor, this is getting real boring.  I agree.  I'm certain I've mentioned I work at a small golf course. (Yes Victor, I counted, that's the 34th time you've told us that.) Bite me.

 

Senior golfers gather daily, play a 'scramble', come to the back deck after for either a Diet Mountain Dew or a Miller Lite... they settle their heavy bets (Erv, you owe Charlie a dollar), and in effort to keep things light - a trivia question is asked after they play.  The other day it was "What is the record for the most consecutive losses for the Kansas City Royals in a season?"  Grumble, groan, 17?  12?  16?  24?  The actual record?  19 losses in a row in 2005. (Whoever guesses exactly, or, closest to, gets a free drink, please don't tell my boss.)

 

That particular season, 2005, the team was composed of some of the nicest, yet reserved young men you'd ever seen.  Some might suggest "Goody Goods", others might call it "Choir Boys", whadever and it don't matter to me... but...  one of the grizzled vets, after the 19th loss in a row............ called a team meeting.  "Something HAS to change.  Tonight, at 3am, we are having a 'bed check'.  If any of you hayseeds are IN BED, it's your a**." ie, let your hair down.

 

Baseball has a history in futility.  1874, Boston Red Stockings outfielder Tommy Beals made SIX consecutive errors.  The next inning, as he jogged from the bench, coach asked "Tommy, where ya going" Well coach, I'm going to centerfield.  "The hell you taking your glove for?"............  Same, similar thing, Steve Balboni, Bo Jackson, Mark Reynolds, each,  struckout NINE times in a row.

 

Then, ya got Bob Uecker.  "I knew my career was over in 1965 when my baseball card came out and there was no picture."... or... "When I came to bat in the 9th, bases loaded, two outs, I peeked in the other team's dugout and they were already in street clothes.".. or, from when all the futility began, "I signed a very modest $3000 bonus with the Braves in Milwaukee, and my old man didn't have that kinda money to put out."

 

Speakin'a strikeouts, or, mebbe crying Wolfe, Glynn Wolfe holds the record 26 divorces (out of 29 marriages).  His last "I do" (or, "I did") was a publicity stunt marriage to Linda Taylor (Wolfe) who held the record for women with 28 marriages.   

 

While the exact record for number of times hearing "YOU'RE FIRED" ain't fer sure, it's fer sure some guy named Colonel Sanders was fired  "dozens of times" before, winner winner, chicken dinner ever happened.

 

"Do you know why I pulled you over?"... a British tourist heard, in Dubai,.. 33 times...  in a four hour period..  driving a yellow Lamborghini.

 

Lincoln failed in business twice and lost eight elections.  Spielberg failed to get into USC's School of Cinematic Arts  three times due to poor grades.

 

Famed hypostist Martin St. James held the record, successfully hypnotizing 3,800 people in Taiwan.  That record was broken today by blogger Victurd, when 3,801 people fell asleep reading this.

 

Love, Victurd                                                                                                                                                                                     

 

Hey.............. let's go to the game!

The below was written in Spanish, and painstakingly translated back to English.  It's a mix of fact and fiction, and............ I'll let you decide.  It's about travel... and if you believe it all, well...  let's just then call it "Gullible's Travels"..

Facts:  Three Argentinian men, rode their bicycles over 10,000 miles...  through 17 countries...  From Gualeguaychu, Argentina, to, CPKC Field, Kansas City, Missouri.  The cyclists left Argentina on August 16. 2025, and arrived in Kansas City, yesterday.  Argentina plays it's first World Cup soccer game June 16th, vs, Algeria, in Kansas City.

The fiction: (well, mostly fiction... you decide)...

Yamandu (47) was visiting with his younger buddy Vicente (29) almost a year ago.. .and the conversation went something like this......

Vicente?  Let's go to the United States and go see a World Cup game in person?  Yamandu?  You drinking tequila? No way we could afford all that.  I mean, we took one trip 850 miles on Aerolineas Argentinas two years ago, I hardly think that's enough in frequent flyer miles to get us 17 countries away to the US.

My friend, Vicente, I meant, we'd ride our bikes.  DAMNIT Yamandu, hand me that cup, that's GOTTA be tequila...   Nah, it's mate, nuttin' but herbs here... Wow.. it's June, the game is a YEAR from now.. it'd prolly take us that long to make it.. I mean, I really enjoy your company and everything, but, I ain't sure I wanna look at your face 24/7 for an entire year.  Problem solved, we ask Miguel to go too!

Are you crazy?  He's in pretty good shape, but he's 56!  Eh, he'll be fine,and hey, you know how like when we go out at night down here, 7 times outta 10 he picks up the tab?  Well, maybe I do enjoy your line of thinking.

Ring, ring, ring......... Hello?  Miguel, it's Yamandu.. Vicente and i are gonna ride our bikes to the US to see Messi and crew play in the World Cup next year, wanna go with us? ....................................................................... click, dial tone.

Ring, ring, ring.....     WHAT?   Dude, I'm being serious.  We can do it!  I've looked into it.  We'd ride about 160K a day, and our gear would weigh around 36 kilos each.  Lemme put my readers on.  Now since the blogger is gonna write this in Spanish, then, retranslate back to English, let's help him out, how many miles is that and what's the crap we take weigh?  A hundred miles a day, and 80 pounds of gear.

Well, if we're being serious, let's all go home tonight, talk to our spouse, then, we'll meet at 7pm tomorrow night at the "Just Juan More Bar"...  Cinchy, and since Vicente (fiance only) ain't married, it's just you and me that's gotta ask.

 The next evening...........

Dude (Vicente said to Yamandu) what happened?  Well , she said "She'd think about it."  Was that before or after you got the shiner?  I don't remember.  I was on the floor. Unconscious. But, I think she'll calm down, and I'll be good.  Howabout you?  (Miguel, the 56 year old).. Well, I asked her.. we've been married a long, long, long time.  She thought about it for a halfa minute, then, she drove to Tienda Bike Store, got me two new tires, inner tubes, then, she got me a brand new backpack, thermos.. ahm, I think she voted yes.

What about dangerous animals along the way?  We'll just have to be cautious.. a few jaguars here and there.. some Brazilian Wandering Spiders... it normally takes a couple months to go thru Brazil, but, we'll scoot over to Peru and take the Coastal route.  I'm taking my telescoping hoe in case we run up agin any Fer-de-lances, Rattlesnakes, Amazonian Ciant Centipedes, those. 

It ain't safe though is it?  Surely, going thru 17 countries, one or two will 'have a thing' against Argentinians won't they?  You've spent too much time onlline Vicente, there's a greater chance of getting our bike stolen in The Netherlands than in Bolivia...  and besides, ain't you a Black Belt?  I took karate the Summer between 3rd and 4th grade.  Eh, we'll make it.

That settles it.  We're taking off from Juan's (they wanna get pictures) on August 15th. 2025, we should make it to KC a couple weeks before they play Algeria.

Lights, camera, action............. AND THEY'RE OFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

15K later (that's 9.321 miles).. Guys, sorry... I forgot my teeth.  Damnit Miguel! Not to worry, Miguel had just started pedaling home when his wife met him on her bike, choppers in her hand.

Paraguay........... Bolivia.......   Peru.............

My feet hurt.   I don't wanna hear it Vicente, you're a young punk, I ain't got no muscular padding on my butt, I already gotta pain in the butt, so don't add too it you whiney butt.

Does it EVER stop raining?  No. Sorry.  Unfortunately we timed it so we're traversing all the way thru the rainy season.

I know we Argentinians eat Milanesa most every evening, but, I'm sick of it.  I DIDN'T say I was sick of you guys (consciously thinking he was).. but I vote we take a night off, go have a REAL meal.  Well, since it is almost Thanksgiving, let's take that path there.. we'll be in Lima by Thanksgiving, we turkeys can have turkeys.  i thought that was only an American tradition?  Well, damnit, then we'll have Ceviche or Antichuchos, SOMETHING different.  Ain't no time for dilly dally though. 

Miguel?  You're old. What can you tell us about biking across Central America? Bite me Vicente, once we get to Colombia, I'll stop and charge my phone, look it up.

Da da da daaaat da daaaaa (CHARGE).........

It says take a throw away wallet with ones and fives in case ya get robbed.  Have lots of small bills, no one has change for a 20. "Camping is dumb, don't do that. Not safe. Stay in a brothel. WHAT?  You mean hostel?  Oh yeah, that, those.  Take some fix a flat. Duh.........

Senor'! Senor'!  Yes?  Which way is Matamoras? Come, I show you.  No, you can point, it's cool.  (Does).

Yamandu, we'll stop at Burger King once we get to Corpus, always wanted wanna them King crowns...  If they ask you if you want ICE in your Pepsi, just say no..  But I like my drinks cold, and, I was gonna get Mountain Dew anyways...... Damnit Vicente, just say no.

Miguel Silio, Yamandu Martinez and Vincente Conculini (fact) were greeted all along their US trek... in fact, they were escorted by fellow cyclists the last ten or so miles..  Arrival to cheers.  Champagne downed.  The Star caught up with Vincente, "We don't have the words to describe it... we were taken back by the generosity of those turning out to cheer us on."

(Fiction?) One by one they called home to let them know they made it. They're safe.

Yamandu... the 40-something father... ring, ring, ring........ "The number you have reached is not in service."

Miguel (the old guy)....... ring, ring, ring..... 'Honey, we made it!"  That's great!  Take you're time coming home, I'm doing just fine here!  We're flying home after the game.  Oh...  OK.

Vincente........ ring, ring, ring.......  talks for a monent, frantically throws his phone on the ground, breaking it.  Takes off on his bike.  Vincente?  WHERE YOU GOING?  i just talked to my fiance... she told me she's PREGGO.  THAT's AWESOME BUDDY!  CONGRATS!  Ahm, we've been gone 10 months.. she says she's due in December. You do the math..........  And off he goes.

Yamandu starts to chase Vincente...  Miguel grabs him.  "He's young, there's no point in stopping him.  He'll never come back."

But, but, he's got the tickets for the game!  OH SH*T, let's go!

By Felipe Gibson

Love, Victurd  

 

Take Cover!

It's THAT time of year here.  Where's here Victor?  The Midwest.  It's an annual event, and it ain't got squat to do with climate change, global warming, AI created, that.  I personally think, wise guys at NOAA, in concert with local and national weathermen and women, sprinkle some kinda magic crap into the atmosphere in February - thereby creating Spring, early Summer torrential downpours, winds that blow ya sideways, windshears, squall lines (MISOGYNIST!  AM NOT, said 'squall lines' not squaw lines. Geez.

They (NOAA and weather folks) do this insteada starting GoFundMe's.  Victor? Why would they need GoFundMe's?  Well, in the hierarchy of the newsroom, the pay for weather dudes takes at least 3rd place behind anchors and sports reporters.  All of 'em, talk about their pets, and they have these funny ha ha names like Stormy, Breezy, Windy, Sunny, Rainbow, yada - but, due to economics, they ain't gots no way to pay for shots, flea meds, uppity style dog, cat food.. so they create all these storms, so, they'll work overtime (their GoFundMe) where they put in so many hours (compared to normal) they actually put dress pants on under their blazer, as opposed to "I'm going golfing after my three hour shift so I'm wearing my khaki shorts underneath."

Of course I jest, tornadoes are really nothing to make light of. so, I apologize.

Danger Will Robinson.   That was said exactly one time on Lost In Space. Trivia, twas said by the robot B-9).  Similar versions (Danger danger..  Warning.. yada) were said often, but adding Will Robinson happened just once.

Victor,  I'm lost.

Me too.

TAKE COVER!  So, does this mean, "Linus, get your blanket, get the hell outta here?"  Mebbe.  Of course it means the weather is conducive to potential destruction - get to the basement, shelter. or, at the least, the room within the house with the most number of walls around you.

Sometimes, "Take cover" just means getting the hell away from it all.  An argue with mate, boss, friend, coworker...    Take cover (like, a blanket).. go find a creek, beach, lake, river, country pasture - have some my time, quiet time.  Calgon time. 

Sitting peacefully in Nature, yields lowered blood pressure, all the benefits of Transcendental Meditation, whatever they are... and sometimes, gloriously, nap happens.

There once was a blonde (VICTOR!  MISOGYNIST!  AM NOT! I never even said if male or female!)... There once was a blonde lady, aye yai yai, who heard "TAKE COVER" so she did... to the levee by the river.  As she placed her blankie down, plopped atop it, she noticed a snake, all coiled up, ready to strike, a few paces away.  She peered a bit more, trying to see if the snakes head was triangular or more oval, then she remembered she couldn't remember why she was, so, she somewhat panicked, hollered at her twin, blonde sister who was on the bank of the other side of the river.. HEY! HOW DO I GET TO THE OTHER SIDE? .... silence, then, YOU ARE ON THE OTHER SIDE!  Victor, you misogynist, we've all head that twelve times before.  Make it thirteen then, bite me.

Where are some of your favorite (in nonthreatening weather) places to "Wanna get away?" from it all?   Easy chair, book?  Hobby?  1,000 piece puzzle?  Handheld walk with 'honey'?  Country drive?

I personally enjoy, the jacuzzi, the sauna, a kid's ballgame.. a seat on a bench at the Square of our old downtown, a nap in my car at the City Park, many mems... driving by places I, we lived..  or, "smooched a gal at that house", or, "wanted to smooch a gal at that house, never did"... you know.

Sometimes, putting my phone up for an hour is a pretty nice, take cover, take a break, relax.

Victor?  Yeah?  Maybe you could take a break from your blog?  Sounds like sometimes ya needta.

Right, right, you're bloody well right, you got a bloody right to say........  

So................. Take Cover.............. or, as B-9 or BR549, whatever his name was, said, Danger Will Robinson. 

Try to enjoy life, weather you want to or not.

Love, Victurd 

Listen to the thunder, the rumble and the roar...........

Sooooooooooooooooooooo peaceful.  Awakening this morning (OH CRAP, here we go, ME, ME, ME).......

Ahem, sooooo peaceful awakening this morning to the 'roar' of thunder... at a level that was maybe 5 to 6 if it were on a soundboard.  Not the frantic run to the basement level of, say, Wipe Out, or In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida... but peaceful.....

This too shall pass peaceful.

Sunny beach....... VICTOR, enuff with the profanity, tain't no place for it here. NO, I meant, Sunny Beach... like  you know, you work, you toil, you save up an arm here, a leg there.... you scream (without intent to) NO, NO MCDONALDS TONIGHT....... PB&J samwiches... we're saving up, to rent us a high rise on the beach....so we can sit on the balcony... hear the peaceful wake.... (funny they call it that, because the rhythm of it actually puts us to sleep, not aWake'n us.

Weather, is like life, kinda.  Constant change, but crap we've been thru before.  It don't change in San Diego, but whothehell can afford to live there?  And, we're all different (notice?), some, might not enjoy 'never changing.'

I have weirdo friends living right here in Misery (play on a word, you know I love it here) that actually WANT TO BE IN MICHIGAN twelve months a year.  Now THAT is double stressy, like, shrinkage not only in Winter, but Summer, Fall, Spring too.  No. Thank. You.

Victor, is there a point to all this, or, is it like mosta your blogs, simply another #2 leaded pencil with no sharpener, DULL. devoid of clever lines, yet, contains the regular smudge crap on the page from being lefthanded?

Bite me, and yes, yes there is.

The thunder that's presently rolling along at a 5 or a 6?  One day, I, you, we, know it's coming - it'll be raging!  I live in a rental, as in oh sh*t i ain't gotta basement - so, it will happen and I will either go sit on the bathroom floor (it's got the most walls around me)... or, hop in my 2002 Buick Century, say a prayer, YES! YES it started... and try to outrun potential tornado, tsunami, Mother of all storms (MISOGYNIST.. AM NOT!)... and  I have done that on more than one occasion.

The point is, weather is like life. This too shall pass.

The Royals presently suck.  It's snowing, raining, icy, blowing sideways, flooding, all kindsa crappy weather... They'll be alright.  Scapegoats might, will probably happen, but they'll sort it out.  It ain't gonna thunder forever.

 Whatever life's present thorn is in your side, it may find you sitting on that nifty beach balcony, deathly afeared the ANGRY WAVES are gonna huff and puff and BLOW YOUR CHEAPY CONDO OVER.  Nah, it'll be fine.  Jump up, go inside, close the sliding door... put on some Pink Floyd, mebbe Fleetwood Mac, this too shall pass.

Thunder, at the 5-6 level, is a gentle reminder --- kinda like talking like a pirate groaning, getting outta bed... beating feet to pee before ya soil ur undies... that your hope of the rent payment arriving timely to the holding company, and shortly after Uncle Sam drops your coin in your account.  This too (worry) shall pass.. .and soon, a trip to Dairy Queen for a Peanut Buster Parfait can and will happen.

70 degrees, partly sunny, small breeze - that's the part in life like a hound (or a cat) on your lap... a phone call (to, or) from a loved one.. lasagna, perfectly cooked.  Hearing a compliment... winging one.  Seein' a little kid having fun.

Short blog today (You're welcome, they're normally reserved, coordinated with Winter Solstice)... but... seems the thunder ain't thundering (this too has passed).....

Time, Mother Nature, shake and bake (and the weather, the music, the hound, cat, loved one, whatever) helped.

Worry.

THUNDER THUNDER THUNDERATION.........

Even tides even out.

Life's a float trip with occasional rapids. An unexpected weather change where ya ain't got enough layers on.  Rain, when the tops down.  In my case, a dayum walnut that lands directly on the corner of the windshield next to the metal, uh huh, crack.  Sometimes this too shall pass.  Sometimes life ain't all it's cracked up to be, or, at least the windshield is, I guess.

Us and Them is one'a my favs for when it's thunderin' like all get out. Not sure whether it was God, Noah, or NOAA that created the saxaphone, but man that dude can wail.  And remind, this too shall pass.

Love, Victurd