Wednesday, April 12, 2023

I've got a 'hitchy hitchy' rash....

As in, a hitch in the getalong.

(Editor's note: Blogs bear resemblance to Wiki. Anyone can contribute (truth, lie, embellish, affirm, avow, assert, pronounce, dance a little sidestep, swear to goodness, swindle, yada, cougar mellencamp, etc.)

It is written, it must be so eh?

Well, no. Quoting my stepson, "Not no's, but hells no's."

So, where are we? Damnit Jim (Victurd), with an intro like that, I ain't real sure. Let's start with your "hitchy hitchy" up there, we're itchin' to know.

Glad you asked, thanks.

In life there are hitches. Band camp, a few years back - after a Royal's game (dark-thirty) my buddy TR and I, seeking our car, found the row, walked along it (brisk clip, whatever speed that is at age 65) and a trailer hitch, had to be two foot long, 'jumped out' and sent TR to his knees. He's a religious man but he owes a few quarters to the jar and frankly, I didn't blame him. YEEEEOOUCH!

Life is a steeple chase. There be all kinda obstacles in our paths. Many are physical, many are medulla oblongata related (remember that one from High School - you probably don't, you were in all likelihood trying to look up that one chick's dress - another certain hitch to come.

Hitches can be bottled, rolled and smoked, snorted, popped, which (because it's MY blog/Wiki) I can relate that list reminded me of Arlo's 'Alice' song, ie, "injected, inspected, detected, infected, neglected and selected." Much. Much in life is a hitch.

We jump in different cars. Some love First On Race Day, other's like Dinah's "See the USA". (Damn you're old.) Yet others like compact, "save the Earth, 43 mpg" (scew that, you seen gas prices? That's why.). Some like 2 wheels. Some folks even like children and have three, count 'em THREE rows of seats. And don't forget Sparky, he prefers the plug in variety. 

(SOMEONE, I say SOMEONE, it wasn't me. I PROMISE relatives, former students, players I coached, those who formally liked me, I DIDN'T WRITE IT!".)

For goodness sakes Victor, you didn't write what?.......................

If it has tits or tires, you're bound to have trouble with it. <-- Nuh uh, wasn't me....but... it does kinda fit today's blog/Wiki. (James Greer it WASN'T ME! I ain't no misogynist!)

We ALL have hitches.

Victor, how do you come up with this crap, these ideas?  You really wanna know? YES. OK, but I'll forewarn you the last time I did this, a gal on Facebook (actually, the first gal I ever kissed, ha, kiss-n-tell, Plaza Theater 19AnotherCenturyAgo) wrote in big, REAL BIG LETTERS, TMI!, and then she unfriended me!

The idea for this blog. I have an affliction. It's slowed me down, I can no longer walk a long distance or stand on my feet very long. It is forever. PLEASE KNOW, I have a blessed life, I work part-time at a golf course, play golf, I just have to chase women that don't run as fast. Stage 1, controlled by compression socks and elevating my feet. THERE ARE MANY, MANY WORSE OFF.

This morning, I was reading from an online support group and someone asked "how many (stage 4, 5) were homebound?" and the answer wasn't good. Many in their 50's, some even in their 30's, 40's.

Thankfully, beautiful people abound. Many brought the message "When it's hard, you don't wanna get up, GO, DO."

I know there are those (in life) that physically may not be able to get up and go, BUT, they get that abdula oblongata UP and'a SMILING, We all, perhaps, are friends to those whose mate may have dementia - and they, our friend, are the GO, DO cheerleader in their lives.

And ya know? There are slam-dunkers, 400' home run hitters, singers singing and strumming to 40,000 in the arena that have HITCHES.

Next door neighbors, kiddos that announce "May I take your order please?", Pastors, bowling teammates, the plumber, ---------------------------- HITCHES. No one is immune to hitches.

Bottomline, GO, DO. Sure, it might be easier to fold up like a taco, stay home, hide. Don't. Get up, GO, DO.

TMI, I know, but I didn't expect you to kiss me anyways.

Again, the 'T & T' quote, I didn't do it. Professor Plum did, with the candlestick, in the library.

GO, DO, love, Victurd

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