DD... YES, color me in favor of handing off the FOB to a nondrinking buddy, taking Uber, Lyft, Yellow, or if you're real old and happen to have grown up in Liberty, MO, Atkinson Cab. Maybe best yet, don't imbibe.
Again, this ain't about that.
What then Victor, what?
DD, as in, degree of difficulty. Whenya hear that, immediately the brain springs to skiing, diving, gymnastics, skating, surfing, trampoline and even synchronization swimming. An objective dealybob where points are assigned for things like twists, turns, axels, Salchows (the hell is that?), loops, vaults, somersaults (pike, straight), rotations, and a baby partridge (jumping/flying/first time) outta a pear tree.
We, OK, me (and maybe some'a you) gravitate, tune in, plop in our easy chairs, up the Nielsen ratings to watch many of those events. Mundane don't sell. Daring, "first time ever", "OH BABY WHAT A PLAY!" (jump, dive, breathtakeaway fear, stuff like that) DOES.
And yeah, it translates to life. As a young snotnose, dad (or mom) grabs the wrench, takes the training wheels off.....PERIL... muscle, balance, arm SPASMS!
Then ya get old, it's no big thrill, it's used by assuring friends when you fear doing something new, maybe difficult. ."don't worry, it's like riding a bicycle."
Life is, can be, will be, difficult. To what degree, reckon that's up to us.
Some factors effecting our degree of difficulty, oh wow, the list is endless. Driving, working, 'relationshipping', procreating, aging, weight gain/loss, diminished eyesight/hearing, affliction, loss, grief... buckle-up buttercup, shrinks (and cardiologists) might caution "it ain't for the faint of heart."
Within eacha them up there, degree of difficulty, much. Driving, for instance. Imagine you and me and maybe eight other 'judges' getting all gussied-up (for TV), grabbing our chairs, sitting back a ways from, 435 Highway, watching commuters commute. "That one there! Driving waaaay too close, disqualified!"...
A ninety-mile-per-hour crotch-rocket outta nowhere! "Be gone, seeya, too difficult."... "Hey! Did you see that lady driving the blue Ford Edge? She was TEXTING! I know her! I'm calling Jake from State Farm! VICTOR? Yeah? You're difficult ! You pick on women! Are you... are you calling me a misogynist? Well.. you maybe lean that way, but don't think all male drivers are AJ Foyts, just since we got here to judge, I've seen FOUR (male) ear-pickers, SIX nose-pickers, five guys eating a burger, and even one SHAVING! Whatever happened to 'ten and two on the wheel'?
Just driving alone, the difficulty is diverse - and then ya throw in snow, ice, rain, wind, darkness, rush hour, yada.
Weight gain. Victor? ... Yes?... Don't you DARE say nuttin' about Fat Bottom Girls!... But...but...but(t), it's my favorite Queen song! OK, look, I've gained weight, I hate it. MUCH degree of difficulty. Having to damn near use vice grips to button one's jeans. Worry. Will that wimpy chair hold me? Break? Ah nevermind, what's for lunch? Women AND men can change, grow. I envy those who've never dealt with it. Band camp. I recently visited my SIL, 5 inches of snow on top of one inch of ice, car way up here, front door way down there, hella long driveway, FORTY-FIVE DEGREE (of difficulty). Looking at it positively (I guess), momentum was on my side. I took one baby step. Then another. Then, once the fat gets out there ahead, there ain't no stopping, slowing down. As my feet approached crotch-rocket speed, I did what any old geezer started to do, I started laughing. I knew I was gonna get hurt, kiss (sorta) the garage door, and wakeup in the Eureka Springs Hospital. Miraclously, I was ok. Peed a bit maybe, but I counted, four, ALL for limbs still attached!
Relationships. Wow. I recommend..VICTOR STOP! YOU recommend? Ain't you been married TWICE? (Not to mention a couple live-ins!)... Ahem (clearing throat), I recommend a minimum of 7 meals with your potential inlaws, two weeks in the delivery room of a maternity ward, six plane trips with an infant, a two year old, and a four year old in the adjacent row...if you can handle all that, go ahead and get engaged, but don't get married, or take your clothes off for six years. Then just think about lost jobs, forced transfers, life in Timbuktu, cub scouts, boy scouts, girl scouts, little league life, tourney$ to faraway citie$, weekly... and, remember how happy you were to buy that new fancy Buick SUV? Well, Junior turns 16 next month.
Aging. I don't quite remember stuff from the class in HS preparing us for aging. Huh? We didn't have one? Oh yeah. The degree of difficulty in aging is hella. Blessed is the old person, but aside from all the tribulation physically, the saddest part are all the obits that hit home.
As always, don't get me wrong - there is so so much to enjoy in life. Sometimes its like a double flip off the pommel horse and you STICK the landing. Laughter, happy tears, loved ones, great friends, concerts, ballgames, BBQ, taco Tuesdays, movies, Christmas, yada, oh, and finally, your 6 year dating anniversary! OH BABY WHAT A.... well, you know.
Seen something yesterday I'd never seen. Snotnose, 13, maybe 14-ish. He did a STANDING, BACK DOUBLE FLIP! It was truly awesome.
However.
You wanna impress me sonny, come back when you're 70 and we'll see if you can tie both shoes in under 30 seconds.
By Henry Gibson Forward by the IOC (Olympic judges), Wapner, Judy, Joe and Lance Ito
Love, Victurd
PS: The 'Salchow' was 'invented by Ulrich Salchow (no, I woulda guessed Ralph Smith, duh) and it's skating with a backward takeoff from the backward inside edge of one skate to the backward outside edge of the other, with one or more turns in the air.
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