Raindrops keep fallin' on ma' head...........

Then get outta the rain, dummy. Better yet, dodge 'em...

Dodge traffic...

Dodge cars (the brand).

Dodge questions, like a politician (see the Governor, Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, Dance a Little Sidestep)

Dodge a bullet

Synonyms: duck, evade, fudge, skirt, shun

Dodge one you owe money to.

Dodge much... texts, phone ringing, knock on door, an 'ex, a bf or gf that you ain't so sure you still wanna be bf or gf.

Dodge have to's, need to's, shoulds so that little midget boxer that lives inside your brain will start punching, thus, hella migraine.

Dodge scale, logic : I look fatter but I ain't jumping on that muther to confirm

Dodgeball. Nothing more embarrassing than trying to dodge school chums for the remainder of the after 'catching' onea them reddish pink playground balls upside the cheek, eyeball, thus, redness, swelling, and again, that damn little midget boxer in your brain punching in attempt to get out.

Dodge cleanliness, equal stinky, eccentric hoarder. We know. BO knows.

Dodge CNN. Dodge Fox. Is this the real life...is this just fantasy..

Dodge the crack, you'll break your mother's back.

Dodge crack...we all will know, as will Walgreen/CVS Sudafed counters.

Dodge the baseline after walking off the mound, bad luck.

Black cat, turn around, other way, ie, dodge.

I cannot tell a lie.

No, that ain't it. Earlier I was sparring with that damn midget boxer trying to pencil blog idea. The thought "Get out of Dodge" crossed my brain (and the midget's). I kinda sorta knew it was about Dodge City.

Wiki told me it kinda came from Gunsmoke. (You hella old like me then surely you remember Mr. Dillon, Festus, Doc, Kitty.)

Wiki also done tell me "Dodge City, KS, a "Wicked Little Town" because it was  perched on the edge of the wild frontier. Buffalo hunters, then cowboys stopped in Dodge for R&R, which was often wild. Saloons, gambling halls, brothels.

Get the hell outta Dodge?

To the contrary. Wanna go?

Love, Victurd

Tug of love....

Elementary PE long ago. Long, thick rope laying on the gym floor, awaiting 'tuggers.' Teacher would try to evenly divide the class into two teams of weight, strength, #of boys/girls, etc. Ain't sure where you are from, but at Franklin Elementary in Liberty, MO, that tweren't how it happened. In the interest of time (ya only have PE for 30 minutes), perhaps teacher laziness... It was "Count off...the 'odds' are over here, 'evens' over there."

You hoped for the biggest specimen for the anchor spot.  You hoped all the 'wiseacres' were divvied up (wiseacres are the conspirators who would prearrange "all let go when Jimmy hollers the key word", thus, laughing, watching as the other team collapses backwards in a huff, banging their heads, potentially becoming concussed before we ever even knew what the word meant.

It, of course, was hoped your team would win, AND finish with all the skin still on your palms.    Braggin' rights, maybe raising your hand to your forehead, forming an 'L' with your thumb and forefinger, should you, in passing (lunch, recess, school bus) come across someone on the losing team.

Kinda resembles our life battles. Jets/Sharks ("When you're a jet you're a jet all the way from your first cigarette to your last dying day",), Crushers/Bombers, little league, or maybe more locally, Duncan Oil/Moore's Barber Shop. Ya furrow your brow, show ya' teeth and your lips vibrate spastically like hound pooch ready to fight. Ya don't really know why, but ya do.

We spend a lifetime wading in, thru, conflict. Classmates. Rival city sport's, band, debate, cheer teams. Coworkers. Underlings, management. 'Thought' friends that maybe ain't.

Inlaws, some, maybe. Dem/Pub, young/old, rich, poor, different colors, religion, language, size, likes, wants, needs, haves, have nots.

Patooey.

I love aging. It helps to jump over, sidestep, shake hands, remove these barriers. 

Sure, the brain works, saves data like a computer.... but haha, age acts like a processor. Sure, we slip "Victor, I saw what you wrote about DT...KU..management." Forgive me Father, Tug of War admittedly happened, I'm sorry, and I hope, pray, planta do bettter into the future."

Jets/Sharks, share a Yuengling. 

You mean we sat on that bank, fishing, talking for three hours and we just learned we're of opposing political persuasion? I'm Fred. I'm Earl, nice to meet you.

Gee, good Facebook friend/classmate, I wish we woulda visited more years ago.

Confucius say "Handshake leave no rope burn." Or, that mighta been Gomer, Goober, Barn, Aunt Bea, Marcia Brady, can't remember.

Evens, odds, have a happy, harmonious day.

Love, Victud       

Get your motor runnin....

 The News, nuh uh, not Huey Lewis's group... the TV News relates "Over 37 million will head out on the highway" this Holiday weekend. That's a lot. Probably a parking lot in many instances. Oh, the times they are'a changin'.

Seatbelts for all snotnoses, DVR's, earbuds too...  "Are we there yet dad, are we?", could likely be met with "Google (Maps) it", "Use you Mapquest", or, "Fa' goodness sakes, ask Siri."

Hell, nowadays, Tesla may be the driver and dear old dad is perhaps snoozing back there in the third row.

"Charlie hit me!", could possibly prompt dad (or Tesla) to take the off ramp, pull into QuikTrip, review captured video way clearer than that little screen NFL refs peer into, to announce "Susie, upon further review, you pinched the inside of Charlie's thigh roughly 30 seconds before you hollered "Charlie hit me!", busted, hand the remote to Charlie, set your phone for an hour from now, then we'll see."

Kids today can't get away w/nuttin'.

I wonder (Oh I wunder wunder wunder wunder who, who-oo-ooh, who, who wrote the book of love. ) No, that ain't it, but if you know him or her who did, let's see if we can get that puppy on the banned book list.

I wonder, should either ginger Charlie or Susie, fitty years from now, also became smart aleck bloggers, how would they write about Holiday road trips they took into their golden years? "Remember gas stations?" "Yeah...but do you remember how we used to rassle each other back when dad had to pull into one's those charging stations?"  "Yeah, I'm sure glad we've got The Tube, Charlie I don't think I could stand sitting by you for 30+ minutes nowadays."

Your memories? Did you terrorize your folks?

I loved road trips as a kid. If either of us (me/sister) had to pee we'd announce "I GOTTA GO I GOTTA GO, I GOTTA GO TO CONOCO!"

It wasn't a road trip without a pecan log roll, mmmmm, heaven. Dad would ask "Who wants to go to St-OO-keys?" Sister would reply "That's a St-UP-id way to pronounce it, but yes, we BOTH want Stuckeys."

Before Ike and his Interstates changed everything, no off ramps, no QT's...it was Burma Shave and 'PICNIC AREA, 12 MILES', "YES! Some'a mom's fried chicken and maybe, just maybe, a game of catch!"

"HURRY DAD!" Our father didn't know hurry... in fact, sister and I would literally clap our hands in applause if he ever passed another car on the old 2-lane roads.

Ahhh mems. Yours?

You can trust your car to the man who wears the Star..... DING DING, "Fill 'er up, Ethel."

Travel safe. See the USA in your Chevrolet .. or Tesla, SUV, EV, Tube, whatever.

PLEASE, share any/all travel mems from back in the day!

Love, Victurd

I HATE when young people 'learn me!'

Actually that's not really true... Young people are a gift - and, 'we were them', once.

Really though (which kinda sorta resembles starting this sentence with "I mean"), this is a short blog (you're welcome) on happiness.

Of course I can't speak for us all, but I believe safe to say the vast majority of us stand in awe/admiration  for those whom you simply can't wipe the happiness off their face, especially in encumbered time (personal ache/pain; family/relationship crap going on; ultra cold weather; drippy hot weather; financial woes; any kinda woes.)

How they able to do that? Don't they have ire? Mires?  Never perspire? Deal with liars? Work fires? Milk, bananas expires? Nerves never wired? 

Remarkable to try to walk/see from their shoes, but, don't everyone's feet ultimately hurt?

Recently, I was at my chillax, relax, smoke cigs, read paper, mom and pop breakfast joint.. in walks a lady (coulda just as easily been a guy), she sat at the counter.. talked to workers, then on her phone... in 15 minutes, she dropped (VERY LOUDLY) more F-bombs than Carter has pills, or Jimmy has buckets. Old McDonald had a foul mouth, E-I-E-I-F. We, everyone there, couldn't wait for her tude to leave the building. Finally did.

Whie F-lady was mid-bombs, in walks a guy (coulda just as easily been a lady) approximately the same age, 40-ish.  Music to scrambled egg eating ears. "Yes ma'am. No ma'am. Thank you ma'am." (Had Aretha been there, she woulda started singing her song.) As I was leaving, in passing, I offered, "I can tell you had loving parents didn't you?" His face lit up and the answer was obvious.

Back at the ranch, the golf course I work part-time at, we get a pretty fair amount of them "I'm happy, I'm gonna be happy even if I 3-putt, have triple bogies, lose balls in the forest, yada." Those kind. We, us coworkers, have developed a standardized greeting for them as they come in. One of us (workers) will put a hand up to the other's ear - as if we're telling a secret, but we don't, we look the e'er smiling one in the eye, and in a voice loud enough for them to hear, "WATCH THIS ONE....I THINK HE/SHE IS ON DRUGS. HE/SHE IS ALWAYS HAPPY." More smiles.

I went to a bar once. NO! YOU VICTOR? OK, maybe more than once, but who's counting. Thankfully I sat at the table being waited on by my favorite server. I've observed her work attitude at least 50 times (oops). Said lovingly, young punk,  early 20's. She 'gets it', life. Every moment in her life is a gift, thus, ours is too. EVERYONE there loves her. She's good, fast, ALWAYS upbeat, fun.  One day I winged a compliment as such, mentioned how life can get us all down, so I asked "How do you do it?" With return eye contact, smile, she succinctly answered "It's not that bad, Vic."

I hate (LOVE) when young people 'learn me.'

Love, Victurd

The Beat Goes On....

 The beat goes on, the beat goes on

Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da

January 14, 1967

But then... They still sound, look, great... But, Baby Don't Go (Did),,,All I Ever Need Is You (Madeya look! Fingers were crossed!)... I Got You Babe (Had)

Charleston was once the rage, uh huh
History has turned the page, uh huh
The miniskirt's the current thing, uh huh
Tennybopper is our newborn king, uh huh

Blockbuster, Sears Catalog and Green Stamps were the rage too.

The current thing for boys is hair so long in front, one can only imagine what their eyes/face look like. Girls, it's yoga pants, leaving nothing for the imagination.

Charles is the newborn king.

And the beat goes on, the beat goes on
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da

The grocery store's the supermart, uh huh
Little girls still break their hearts, uh huh
And men still keep on marching off to war
Electrically they keep a baseball score

Check ur damnself out... Barcodes, no price stickers.. Organic, Ethnic... Jimmy no longer rolls your cart out to help you load, but if you logon, we'll pull em forya, oh, and deliver too. Shortages occasionally, bread, milk, TP - crappy ain't it?

Little girls AND boys break their hearts..

Men AND women march to war..

Electronically, catcher punches the dealybob on his thigh to request 'what pitch' to a speaker dealybob in pitcher's hat. Soon, don't be surprised if robots call balls and strikes...and, batters and pitchers will wear shock collars and former hall monitors will zap them if they get outta the batter's box or pitcher's circle.

And the beat goes on, the beat goes on
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da

Grandmas sit in chairs and reminisce
Boys keep chasing girls to get a kiss
The cars keep going faster all the time
Bums still cries "Hey buddy, have you got a dime?"

Grandmas play Wordle, logon to Facebook 37 times a day... and take road trips with other Grandmas to sandy beaches where they then drink box wine.

Girls now chase boys too...

Cars now go with no drivers, and you can plug em in to go more. 

Bums keep up with inflation too, preferring Georges.

And the beat goes on, the beat goes on
Drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain
La de da de de, la de da de da

And the beat goes on (Yes, the beat goes on)
And the beat goes on (And the beat goes on, on, on, on, on...)
The beat goes on
And the beat goes on

Thus, 56 years of the beat going on.

Tune in, in 2079 and this will again be updated by AI, Jeff Bezos and Keith Richards.

Love, SonnyAndCherturd

Bottoms up..... A geriatric shot...

Awhile back, I was refereeing 1st and 2nd grade basketball...running clock, they actually didn't even keep score (still, somehow didn't stop moms, dads and cranky, doting grandparents from hollering at us refs.) I noticed one of the kiddos shoes became untied. Fearing he trip and fall (OK, you're right, visualizing him going head first into the bleachers, LITIGATION), I blew my whistle for him to tie his shoe. I forgot, kids this age are not adept at doing so,  I saw him proudly, grab the laces, make an 'X', struggle to wrap the top lace under the bottom lace, and in making the first loop awkwardly with his unpracticed fingers - I knew someone had to run and help, or, we'd spend the entire 32 minutes of the running clock, watching six kids tie their shoes.

The point being, they don't really know how to, so, prayers, thanks and kudos to patient parents, kiddygarden teachers, den leaders everywhere.

Susie, shortly after awakening, washing her face, applying her Clearasil, suddenly stopped remembered, then RAN downstairs skipping the final three stairs in her excitement, into the kichen she sprinted, announced "IT'S MY 15TH BIRTHDAY!! HAND OVER THE CAR KEYS POPS!" Well, we all know that ain't exactly how it works. Someone's gotta learnya first. Unless you're 13, summoned to hop-on the John Deere to plow the soybean field, ya GOTTA take Driver's Ed.

There's learnin', teachers, Google, YouTube videos, Online class, libraries, WebMD, 'struction for EVERYTHING nowadays. I even found a site that helped me reduce losing in blackjack from 76% of the time, to only 63% of the time.

But...

There I was...I was taken to a place... the hall of mountain kings... OK, it was actually Starlight... to see Robert Plant...

It'd been ten years since I'd been. It was cinchy back then... But now, I'm old. My kind buddies, receiving an A for effort, dropped me off at the gate...way down here...but our seats are WAY up there.

I'm old. I worried. Could I make it to my seat before Robert and Alison Krauss start singing. What if I DO make it all the way up there..then, I gotta pee (way back down here)?

I'm old. I've never been old before. Nobody learned me. 

I said "Doctor, ain't there nothing I can take, I said DOCTOR, to relieve this belly ache" of not knowing what to do now that I'm old.  Oh, I learned how to tie my shoes... I passed, got my driver's license, figured out isosceles triangles, even learned what onomatopoeia is.

I don't know OLD. How to act. What to do.

So, of course I Googled "How do I be old?" I think the regular folks at Google are on vacation because pinch-hitting Googles basically tried to tell me how NOT to be old. ('Small changes to your diet... Move...Think... Connect... Stay out of the sun') Well hell, so, FUN ain't involved when you're old?

I wasn't giving up on learning how to be old, so, I Binged "What are the characteristics of old people?" Answers weren't perty:

'Do less... Lose elasticity... Have pain... Sensory issues (vision, hearing, taste)......and even uglier, stroke, dementia, alz..

So, I thought I'd Google "What do really old people say about how they got to be really old?" I liked these answers:

Maintain a productive, active lifestyle... Keep a positive mindset... Balance stress... Great relationships with friends, loved ones... Good self-esteem with some stubbornness.. (hell to the yeah, up my alley!)..Don't care what anyone thinks.. Perhaps most importantly, be who you want to be.

But...

There I was...I was leaving the place... the hall of mountain kings... OK, it was actually Starlight... got to see Robert Plant... even went and peed... twice...

Was leaving... feeling a little better about this 'old' gig...Slight affliction slows my walking... so.. as I tried to move over to the side.. another couple, maybe late 50's, early 60's, crossed at the exact same time.. I awkwardly stopped to yield to them, they get past me and the guy turns, looks at me, using his hand as a megaphone yells, literally YELLS, "THEY OUGHTA SELL GERIATRIC SHOTS!" All in a millisecond I giggled, then got mad,  I looked around for my friends, damn, not behind me, still mad I hollered to the guy "WHAT'D YOU SAY" or "WHAT'D YOU MEAN BY THAT!?" He didn't stop.

Had I had a cane, I'd'a tripped him. Had I had a walker I woulda taken the tennis balls off and thrown 'em at him!

Then it dawned on me... this 60 year old asshat (sorry kinda), the first time Robert and Alison walked off stage, I could just see him standing, Zippo raised and lit, chanting "MORE! MORE!" in want of the 74 year old Robert to have an encore, an yet, I'm 70, in the way, should 'go get me a geriatric shot?

Just shoot me, it did kinda upset me, make me self conscious - pride is hard to swallow and it did go down and we laughed about it on the way home.

I still don't know how to be old. I am stubborn, mostly who I want to be.

Occasionally, if I do ever get bummed out I'll have a beer and take a nap.

I might try a geriatric shot one day though. I wonder what's in it?

Bottoms up, Victurd

But what if you've got a lifter sticking?

 First, I must apologize to Googling shade tree mechanics who've arrived here thinking, "FOUND IT"...instruction in a DIY-fix for a repair step-by-step 'struction on "How to free a sticking lifter," "CHECKENGINELIGHT, this has GOTTA be it, YIPPEE!".

 Sorry. It ain't.

This is a blog about life...akin to jumping in your car... you expect smooth-sailing. As you drive to Piggly Wiggly, time and again, soccer practice once a week, the backroads to The Lake once Spring finally arrives, fitty miles to a relative's graduation, bar mizvah, 1st grade music program, yada...

Life, them tires, that tranny (nuttin' to do with Bud Light), the AC, windshield wipers ALL, working, you 'take it for granite', like them four dead guys in stone - it/they, will be like this fo'er <- ain't that the way fancy prose dudes write forever? ie, chit is going good...

and then...

or so...

Life I love you, all is groovy, ba da-da da-da da-da, feeling groovy.... so, Sunday drive...hop in.. nowhere special to go, nuttin' in particular to do, no one in mind to see......turn here...

And then... DING...CHIME.. DANGER WILL ROBINSON... the GD (gosh darn), damnit-darnit, dreaded CHECKENGINELIGHT comes on....

Flat tire. snapped Serpentine belt, one them 'lectricl sensor dealybob things, fuel pump, alternator, "your tranny is'a slippin', I ain't so sure it's worth fixin' in this car (gimme a Miller Lite then please), car's got an itchy-itchy rash, Hello lamppost, whereinthehell did you jump out from? Your lifter is stickin, that'll be $2,173.49 please."

So, life kinda changes.

We ain't like kitty cats - we don't, 100% of the time, land on our feet. We're more like a turtle whose been flipped on our shell. Imagining that picture, at least we're smiling, yet, we need help.

We need lifting. I about flipped when a former coworker informed me she was struggling with body image issues...this person was/IS, gorgeous.

Another former coworker.. I literally observed her for YEARS,she ALWAYS had a smile on her face..so one day I told her how much I admired that in her. I even asked her, "how do you do that?" She told me her ex was/is verbally abusive... she told me her sister "married money" and was terribly unhappy.. her ex provides no financial help for her, her two kids.."for a very long time we lived on mac and cheese and water. "I decided to take the 'Life I Love You' approach (all is groovy.) Happy to report, she met, married a wonderful man, smile even hella bigger.

On a lighter note, my father, when Parkinsons had progressed pretty far, was having difficulty getting in and out of his recliner. VICTOR, YOU'VE TOLD THIS ONE BEFORE. 

DON'T CARE, I enjoy remembering my dad, his humor. His checknginelight was on, so to speak. He needed a lift, so, we all chipped in and bought an electric lift-chair. Dad was nearing 80. Sale's rep even came to dad's house to demonstrate how to use it. As he was wrapping up, gathering things to leave, he goes "Oh, and it comes with a massager,"..Dad looked at the guy, deadpanned, "Does she spend the night?"

I recently was mid 'poor poor pitiful me' pity party. So, so many people somehow musta sensed, and outta the woodwork, generosity, smiles, 'how-ya-doins' yada, have come my way. I am so very thankful, truly.

People lift, and teach as they do. Never underestimate your power to uplift (and I ain't preaching, I write to remind me as well.) Smiles, hugs, fist bumps, kind words, comps, held doors, notes, texts, even simple things like a 'like' go a long, long, way.

Victor, if that lifter is sticking on your old, beat up Caddy, I think maybe you oughta retire it to the yard'a bolts. How bout a Yuengling, anybody had one'a them yet?

Lookin' for fun and feeling groovy,

Love, Victurd

Ain't no sunshine when it's......dark

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

As I awakened at the ugly hour of 2-something am (it's OK, almost 6 hrs of sleep), with the eye that was open (no coffee yet) I admired the weather lady, (well hell, she's perty!) standing in front of a 7 day forecast that ran from the upper 70's to mid 80's! HA!, Take THAT SoCal breath, we be right uptown with you now!

It's not warm when she's away
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And she's always gone too long
Anytime she's goes away

We earned this, kinda. We done did crispy Fall, shrinky Winter, well into wet Spring. SUN, SUN, SUN! It's the YIPPEE to our YUCKY. I ain't depressed, changin' my drawers to tees and shorts.

Wonder this time where she's gone
Wonder if she's gone to stay
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And this house just ain't no home
Anytime she goes away

But, what about Utqiagvik? WHO? WHERE? Oh, you might recognize it by it's old name, Barrow, AK. Apparently Barrow was too hard to pronounce, so they renamed it Utqiagvik. What about Utqiagvik Victor? Well, come November 18, the sun will set and they won't see it again until January 23rd. Holy lightbulbs, that's a loooooooooong time! Thank goodness for Rudolph's nose so bright! Yep, ain't no sunshine when it's dark..

And I know, I know, I know, I know

Frigid too. Churches are basically barren in Barrow at -35 and don't start getting packed until it warms up to -20.

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know

Johnny can't go outside unattended for fear he might get eaten by a bear. Dark confuses. It's not uncommon for the police to field 20-30 "what day is it?,' phone calls.

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know

There ain't no roads outta Barrow (sorry, easier to type.) Doc Emmit Brown might say "We don't need roads" but, when Mabel tells Herbert to "run to the store, we're outta milk", he protests "the dogsled is a no go...AK just had a litter last week, and Duke's hip has been bugging him...stir up somea that powder stuff, I'll go in a couple days."

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know

Speakin'a groceries, Holy whale blubber, $500 a week don't buy much. Cereal, 2 boxes for $14.. Bottle'a cranberry juice, $9.99.. or, you could mush to the Mexican joint for chips and nachos, $21.

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know

YES Johnny, as always, we're having your Birthday party on December 11, BUT, you can't blow the candles out until January 23rd, then it'll be light. Ain't no sunshine when it's dark..

I know, I know
Hey I oughta leave young thing alone
But ain't no sunshine when she's gone, woh woh

Fo' sure, residents deal with depression, substance abuse, etc. during this long Polar night... but then...

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
Only darkness every day
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And this house just ain't no home

Anytime she goes away

Anytime she goes away
Anytime she goes away
Anytime she goes away

But then... Come May, 80 days of 24 hour sunshine!  There'll be dancin' in the street, lawnmowin' and Hide and Seek at 11pm! They're (literally) on top of the World, lookin' down on creation...

Good day Sunshine! Little darlin', here comes the sun!

Life's good, differn't everywhere... I tend to agree with Annie though... I enjoy living where it's assured, The Sun'll come out, tomorrow...

Ain't no sunshine when it's dark...Withers you like it or not.

Love, Victurd

Let's go out and play...............

Sixteen years ago - life was kinda drab.... No, no, no, no - I don't mean boredom, depression, yuck... I mean colors, once vivid, shiny, sparkly, distinct - all kinda ran 'tagether, lost their luster, dull, DRAB.

So, I did what anyone would do...I dropped acid. Of course I'm joshing, just seeing if you were actually paying attention. Naturally, I got an eye appointment. Thirty minutes into an uneventful. drab (like vision) appointment, Doc finally asks, "Victor? How old are you?"..... 54.   "You have cataracts in both eyes."

So, not long after, lens implants, one for close-up, one for distance. It was very bizarre. Each lens he 'knocked out', I saw nothing but white. Presto, went to Piggly Wiggly after, I'm sure folks thought I was nuts...I was in complete AWE of the colors, standing at the front of the store, saying, "WOW!" Second thought, maybe they did think I was on something.

I threw away seven pair of readers (One each in garage, living room, bathroom, dining rooom, bedroom, basement, and car.) Shoulda thrown my ballglove away too as it was a tad different, the one up close, one for distance.

Things went very well for years, THEN, eye test at the DMV. "Now we're going to cover your left eye, please read row four," My distance eye. I COULDN'T SEE NUTTIN'. She musta been a mom as it was then she put her lips together and mouthed "b, b, ba, ba..."B, I hollered out, "Yes!" Whew, she helped the rest of the day...

Then, a few years later, same dealybob, DMV eye test. HEY, WHERE'S THAT ONE LADY? 'Mom', nowhere to be found, I flunked left eye, I was bemoaning "It's over" (life, driving, yada...I'm too young!). Lady giggled..."No, no, no...it just means we will demark on your driver's license "Must have left rear view mirror." Whew.

People have mentioned "You kinda do live in, enjoy the past don't you Victor?" YES, BUT... yes but....See? My driver's license REQUIRES my rear view mirror!

Victor, you're not gonna tell us we sat thru all them damn paragraphs to get to that point areya?

Uh huh, am. Sorry.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr...Ok, but what's this "Let's go out and play?"  The weatherman yesterday said today would be PERFECT. That reminded me of, as a kid, opening the big front dooor, pushing the screen door: FUN. FUN ABOUT TO BE HAD!

Come to think of it, "Let's go out and play" ain't got much to do with age. It's simply opening both doors, leaving worry behind, YIPPEE! Golf, shopping, bunco, long drive, boat ride, eat out with friends, movie, live music, play, kid's ballgame, bowling, singing, dancing - exit stage left from the spiderweb of yuck. Even a lazy river maybe!

I hope you have a perfect day, go out and play... maybe even if it means occasionally looking in the rear view mirrow,

By Henry Gibson.............                 Forward by Spiderman

Love, Victor

That's the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it.

I love brains. The diversity therein.

Frank 'did it my way.'  Bad boys bad boys, whacha gonna do? Whatever they want I suppose.

You say yes, I say no, you say stop and I say go go go, ooh no. I really can't stay, baby it's cold outside. Some have welcome mats, coffee/cookies at the ready - others (purposely) live off the beaten path, have 'no trespassing', 'guard dog' signs, and spend all their time not answering phone calls nor returning texts, and marking 'RTS' on much of their mail. "Leave me the hell alone" floats their boats.

There's them Thunderstruck folks that are banging their heads at the arena, while their more reserved brethren are toetapping in their seat across town at the symphonic orchestra. Still others keep their bucks in their pockets, and they roll, catch air, between the two venues while 'Skate or Die' resonates from their ear buds.

Madison and Jacob, loving their prechildren days, bootscoot from work an hour early on TGIF, two waverunners in tow, where they will meet up with ten other BFF's they are staying with in a 3BR VRBO condo at 'The 'Lake'. John and Mary, retired next door neighbors, hibernate Sat/Sun, pronounce Monday morning, "THANK GOODNESS. Look at how still the water is Mar', boat ride?

Pizza, Panini. Water, Scotch and water. Football, Futbol...Hell no we won't go (to either), it takes leather balls to play rugby, you can find us there. OLE, OLE, OLE....GGGGGOOOOAAAALLL! TOUCHDOWN KANSAS CITY!

Some like it hot, some not.

"I have GOT to work on my 50 State bucket list"... "Hey honey? Ya wanna grab breakfast at Nelle Belle's in Claycomo? We ain't gone anywhere in awhile?"

Some scan with the remote, others sit in the den eavesdropping on police scanners. Gladys Kravets can scan fourteen houses from her living room window.

Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't. Meet me at midnight, Mary, and don't let anyone know.  NYE? NYE? Are you crazy? I ain't seen that ball drop since '98.

Thank Heaven, for little girls - without them what would little boys do?

Congrats, this ain't like you! Most blogs you don't make it halfway through without mentioning red, blue, donkey, elephant, FOX, CNN....and then there's that.

I love rock and roll, put another dime in the jukebox baby... Victor, there's Spotify for all types of music. Pandora's box?

If we were all alike, whatinthehell would one ask Sherwin Williams? Love makes the World go 'round but some still swear it's flat. He cusses like a sailor. In her 89 years, I never heard profanity from her lips Never heard her pass gas either, butt, assume she did - doesn't everyone?

Knock knock. Who's there? Reader. Reader who? Victor there are only 7 of us, I'll leave it up to you to guess. Why did you write this? A friend posted a picture of a creek. It was entitled "My kind of bar hoppin.' And it was written, "Warm weather, extra pair of Skecher Go walk shoes, picnic and no specific time to be home." It made me think of how unique we each all are. That's cool, and not that it really matters, just curious, where whereya when you read it? In a bar.

Druthers. We all have our druthers. As I opened the link to type this - I thought to myself "If I could be anywhere, doing anything ...where? What?"

I'm a simpleton. One of my favorite memories - it was simple. I was on a raft on a Lazy River ride. Round and round... no effort, wonderful people watching 'ciphering. ('Ciphering, not judging, and I do believe there's a difference.)

If you could be anywhere - where - and what would you be doing?

Hello, goodbye... Love, Victurd

Yes, but you'll get muddy, get stains on your jeans... and there are bugs....

Grazin' in the grass is a gas, baby, can you dig it?

I don't really have a blog to write... I just like this song....

I can dig it, he can dig it
She can dig it, we can dig it
They can dig it, you can dig it
Oh, let's dig it
Can you dig it, baby
I can dig it, he can dig it
She can dig it, we can dig it
They can dig it, you can dig it
Oh, let's dig it
Can you dig it, baby..

Oh, OK...

I suppose everything needs a point.  Like, a #2 lead. A javelin. A nail. CNN, FOX, hehe. Even levity.

The good, the bad, the fugly.

Attending the NFL daft woulda been fun (30 years ago). I mean (I really do) can you think of a better #1 pick than ours, 30 years ago? HOF'er Will Shields. 

I can dig it, he can dig it
She can dig it, we can dig it

Speakinawhich, can you think of a better name for an offensive lineman than WILL SHIELD?

I can dig it, he can dig it
She can dig it, we can dig it

Then again, that year we also drafted Jaime Fields (Who?), Lindsay Knapp (What?), Darius Turner (Where?),, Danan Hughes (When?). OK, maybe Danan played a bit.

Point is.. (Football has a point. If a football didn't have a point, it would be hard to pass... kick...and fumbles would be unexciting as they'd bounce right up to you.)

I can dig it, he can dig it
She can dig it, we can dig it

Point is, with good comes yuck.

Grazin' in the grass is a gas, baby, can you dig it? Sure, but you'll get muddy, stain your jeans, and... bugs.

YES Victor, but the beauty of it all!  Nestled (on the grass) between the Amazing KC landmark Union Station AND the World historic World War I monument, museum! Seeing The Commish, Patrick, Travis, HEIDI GARDNER (oops, sorry, editorialized there for a sec.) Fans from allover, but mostly wearing RED #15, 87, 10, 95, yada..

I can dig it, he can dig it
She can dig it, we can dig it

Yeah butt, as in no lawn chairs for butt. So, park (forty dolla), walk 16 bocks (arriving 3 hours early to get a good spot.) Then, stand, until like 11pm?

And Victor your point?

Well, I wasn't gonna mention that point but since you did, YES, what if I gotta pee?

Yes, but, the point is, we WON the Super Bowl, it's our opportunity to showcase KC, Brett Veach is our 'Dave Whottle-like' GM, comes from behind, outduels ALL OF 'EM. 

I can dig it, he can dig it
She can dig it, we can dig it

And... and... point is... what if Felix is the defensive equivalent to Will Shields? We could call him WILL SACK!

I can dig it, he can dig it
She can dig it, we can dig it

It's muddy. Grass stains. Bugs. I can't see the stage because of the dadgum tall iron helmet of that Viking dude infronta me. Point is, which reminds me, I gotta pee.

Victor, you're no fun. You're trying to write, I think, a blog about "We gotta take the good with the bad in life." We all get it, BUT, you are accentuating the bad, dragging it through the mud! YES, mud, and stains, and bugs, and... WE KNOW WE KNOW Victor, you have to pee too.

End of blog.... kinda.

Not preaching, instead, REMINDING ME, with good, occasionally bad happens. Maybe if we reversed those... with bad, good happens tooo. Accentuate THAT! I know I, maybe even moreso as I age, allow 'bad' to take center stage, we decay, life can be poopy and we lose the point, life is pretty darn good.

Grazin' in the grass is a gas, baby, can you dig it

I can dig it, he can dig it
She can dig it, we can dig it
They can dig it, you can dig it
Oh, let's dig it
Can you dig it, baby
I can dig it, he can dig it
She can dig it, we can dig it
They can dig it, you can dig it
Oh, let's dig it
Can you dig it, baby

Come to think of it, that draft I was bemoaning from thirty years ago? Yep, but, accentuating the good, we also brought in a couple of guys... Joe Montana and Marcus Allen.

When life gives you lemons...make a Mojito. You'll prolly have to pee later, but it's gooooo-ooood <~ to be said like Andy Griffith would say it.

I can dig it, he can dig it
She can dig it, we can dig it

Love, Victurd