Oh-oh-oh, what's love got to do, got to do with it?

Well, I reckon everything.

What is your take on love? Never been? Tried once or twice? Fallen many times? Just 'us' fitty plus years?

Like a baby learning to walk, or, perhaps like a staggering drunky, I fall waaaaay too easy.  I can fall in love hearing "May I take your order please?, in an elevator, across the room, finding, learning someone's heart. Simpleton perhaps...ok, you're correct, assuredly....don't care. I truly love, and love life 99.9% of the time.

Love can be an uncomfy word to orate. Some never do, some toss it as frequently as a cussword in a rap song.

Weirdly, when someone (platonically) says "love you" I tend to say things like "backatya" or "you too" when I know well and good I DO love them, seems it's easier to say first.

My opine, some are simply afraid to say it. I am gonna guess that's because (that's a lie, I googled it) of cultural upbringing ("heard that word maybe three times in my life from my mother/father"), maybe a difficult upbringing, a past toxic relationship.

Some cultures find showing, expressing emotion can be interpreted as a weakness or vulnerability, especially for men.

Again, I ain't no Dear Abby or Dr. Phil (thank goodness, sorry, just my opine) but it is said verbalization is only 7% if all communication... MANY ways to show, nonverbally 'express' love... ie, words of affirmation, tone of voice, touch, gestures.

I reckon it's a personal thing. I admire those who wing it freely. Can it be overused? I suppose, but I lean towards not.

I count myself among the lucky as it was a nightly ritual in our house to say, hear "Goodnight (mom, dad, Vanda, Victor), I love you" until all four had said to each and every.

My dad always said it too but you could tell, yesterday's belief of 'men ain't sposed to' shone through. I hate, hate, hate Parkinson's, but if there was a positive, it afforded my dad to show emotion, toss the L word. God I loved him. TMI, sorry, kinda, not really.

Dunno where you are, if you are, once was, never have been in a relationship. We all have regrets. Ya cant go back. Whilst divorced twice, I truly feel lucky to love and have loved, probably too many damn times, if there is such a thing.

This is where I tell YOU what to do....

Of course I jest. It's a personal thing. Some grew up in the suburbs, urban area, amidst cornfields, across the sea. Where love was never heard, used, or, tossed about with ease.

Whatever, whichever.... I hope you love life.   I sure do.

Say, did I ever tell you your eyes are yummy....your figure (read between the lines: derriere) is awesome... Your take on life is remarkable... You got an awesome 'can do' attitude... Some of many I've used, thought. Ain't always been the same person, but agin', lucky in love.

Love you TOO!  Victurd

Replace...

Whaddya think of?

I remember my once favorite mattress. Then, a spring bore thru. Damnit darnit. Jetset to NFM? (That's an abbreviation we 'in-a-hurry' societal misguided nerds use to replace syllables, ie, Nebraska Furniture Mart so we can say, get point across, faster. Kinda like today's QT, ASAP, STAT). Call Mattress World?

If you don't know me and maybe you just got here, of course not. You flip it and go back to bed for another 5, 10, 15 years.

"There's something about childhood friends that you just can't replace." Lisa Whelchel

Witness. Can I get a witness. Four, very old fogies, childhood friends, on the back deck of the clubhouse after a fun (mostly) round of golf. What once was talk of Betsy in the Junior class, Dr. J in the NBA, and, 'Have you seen the new '67 Chevy Chevelle at Parrish Chevrolet?' has been replaced by talk, demonstration of hip, knee replacements, wife(s) #2, tax gripes, the market dropping, the cost of kids already raised, TP, gas, eating out, yada.

"Make no mistake about why these babies are here - they are here to replace us." Jerry Seinfeld

But ohhhhh what a joy that is. Play at the park (again), traipses thru mud, mega sugar fixes...drop em (g-babies) off at home, "Have fun mom and dad", ie, it not my yob man (baths, laundry, hard to get to bed.)

Midnight has been replaced by 9pm. Oh baby oh baby, tri-weekly now try weekly (or weakly).

Two story, now ranch.

New story, now, recycled story, "yeah, I remember you u telling us that."

Liveable payday, now SS plus however good (or bad) you planned otherwise.

Run/walk. Get up, go/sit, stay.

Gotta do that, now!/Tomorrow, I'll do it tomorrow.

Rainy days and Mondays, TGIF/What day is it? Where's my pillbox?

Bright eyed, bushy tailed/Saggy eyes, bushy, long eyebrows.

New hair-do/New ear hair.

Uber/Damnit Jim, I was the DD last time.

Long walks/Long talks.

Growing in the garden from seed/Fungus growth in the Tupperware left due to neglect/absentmindedness.

Counting the days till vacation/Thank you Lord for this, another day.

Now, young punks, Guillermo and Jimmy...after, wanna fool around?/ Remembering Ed and Johnny, now, ED after.

"We are living in miraculous times where connections are made at the blink of an eye, the tap of the thumb, and the click of a mouse. We can never replace human interaction, but these simple actions can be powerful and meaningful to those we connect with. " Christy Turlington

DON'T ANSWER THAT....it's (so and so)...he/she rambles on... I'll call or text him/her, tomorrow..if I remember.

We can't go back and fix, redo, physically relive yesterday.  We have wonderful memories in their place.

It's a good time and place. We are lucky. We must love and live, one, because we should. Two, for those who never got the chance.

There's no replacing them.

Love, Victurd

About flippin' time....

I enjoy bottled water. WallyWorld sells 40 packs hella cheap and I am all about that, cheap - but sometimes mood gets in the way and the thought is, "Nah, I'll pay a hair more and just buy the 24 pk, it's hella less of a struggle going from the trunka my car to the fridge.

But....this ain't about that, kinda.

The game of life sometimes includes fun, games, frustration, persistence, success, giving up, sometimes all of the above.

It's like flippin a water bottle.

Oh the games people play now, every night and every day now .  

You know that game. You're with friends, or not. You love fun, to compete, or, boredom has set in. You take a water bottle, you give it a launch it airborne, flippin it in hopes of it landing upright, ie, you win.

Some in life, no likey games. Stolid. Not my take nor want but hey, why we have menus, makes of cars, 1,000 tv channels, boxers, briefs, thongs and commando. Options. We're all weird I guess.

Some try the full bottle, rarely works, ie, lands upright.  Some take the cap off, pour some out "let's try half empty." Pissy attitude, no uprighty.

"Ahhhhh", one might say after decapping, swigging some.."half full...yeah baby!* For whatever reason, they seem to have better odds of it landing perfectly like a gymnast who don't take no extra step. "SUCCESS!"

There's them that quit. Give up. I'm no Dear Abby, but me thinks they have poor self image, usually opt for the easy way out...and are reclusive at the tail end.

Some are of average, maybe even slightly below average ability, and no matter, they try, try, try and try s'more. Usually a good ending, reward.

Some, simply lucky in bottle spinning (life).

I personally like the suggestion to empty the bottle, maybe pour Miller Lite, or, Scotch and water .. or even simply a red Gatorade in.  Kinda celebrate bottle-flipping (life) all along the way. If I could save (good) time in a bottle....

Some enjoy a good gamble. "Dollar I'm first!".... "Damnit darnit, two outta three?"

About flippin time to end this blog.

I think I'll go fetch me five or six 'as old as me' ladies and play spin the bottle.

Hehe.

Some, never grow up.

Sorry, 

Kinda.

Love, Victurd

Naked and Afraid

 Victor, you pervert! You watch that?

Well, yes, I do, have. I like it.  And hey, they got pixels that cover up the 'you knows' anyways. I very much enjoy the psychology of it all. Wait! Is that a violin I hear? I'm serious, they throw any two ole people out of a boat, canoe, jeep, off a horse - out in the middle of nowhere, as in no one in their right mind would live there (heat, bugs, cold, bears, elephants, 672 differnt kinda poisonous snakes, piranhas, Crocs, you name it, things that kill you are there. Did I mention thorns? Throw them in for good measure.

Truly, nerves, appetites, sufficient , drinkable water, body response to immense cold, or heat, yada. They, sometimes, find one has a type A (as in asshole, oops, sorry) personality, they fight like the creatures living close to their boma. .. it's interesting.

But, that ain't what this is about.

I blame this blog on Ross. Or lymphedema, long story. Or, Will Power, whoeverinthehell he is (or lack thereof). Fat, as in me. I ain't never been that before. Well, all the Poloroids from when I was born are faded, but I don't think I was fat then.

I remember back to when I was gainfully employed, our HR folks, out of great, great concern for our physical well being, sent in all these folks in scrubs in test this, that, s'more crap, height, weight to finally tell you "Your BMI is too (big, heavy, outta whack), here's a chart on where you really should be." My first thought was be for real. Hello? Does Manute Bol ring a bell?  Twiggy?

In hindsight, #1 I'm glad I can't see my hind, and #2, turns out HR folks really did all this crap because it helps them negotiate with healthcare providers, thus, better salary reviews.

Victor, you're grumpy. Hey, ask them folks on Naked and Afraid, it's what hunger does to you.

What's this crap about you blaming Ross.  I don't call them Ross anymore, I call em G-Ross, as in gross. Went to buy pants, shirt, funeral or wedding, I forget. Was forced to fully disrobe in dressing room with FULL length mirror. Great Caesars huge-ass ghost, I'm huge! Fat! Naked and very afraid!

So, the combination of never having met Will Power, coupled with wearing out the carpet to/from the easy chair to the fridge during the pandemic, my BMI added another letter...BMIH, as in, Bite Me I'm Hungry.

Fast forward to "Oh shit (sorry to cuss but it's literally what I thought), found a VERY cheap condo in Mexico for the month of January, I GOTS to do something, other than eat."

I counseled with two good friends who combined to lose over 200 lbs in less than a year.

P, "Cut out carbs and sugar, had to." He'd had some heart issues, I have PTSD from G-Ross's mirror image.

K, "Yes, me too (carbs and sugar). You can't cheat, oh, and alcohol, no alcohol." I either said "I'm sorry I couldn't hear you" or "No hablo Engleshe' ", I forget which.

So there I was... I was taken a place...in front of .. that damn G-Ross mirror.

OK, I'll try.  Did some reading...

"Lean meats (check), fish (no), things grown 'above ground'. Like?  "Asparagus, broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, cucumbers, eggplant, kale, okra..." Wait, I don't like any of those. I'm gonna die aren't I?  Instead DIET we'll call it DIE-Tubby!

Found some stuff I do like. You didn't ask, but eggs, cut up ham, cheese for break...an ear of corn for lunch..Victor? That's got 17 grams of carb. Bite me, it's above ground ain't it? Salad with pepperoni, smore cheese, olives, walnuts for dinner.

Then, Father's Day happened. "Dad, here's a 1 pound, 20 bag of Peanut M&M's, happy Father's Day!". Thanks! I love me some peanut M&M's! Now what?  I'm 70, I'm gonna live a bit too, I eat TWO, and only two, a day.

Happy Fathers Day Grandpa, here's a gift card for Burger King!  Thank you, I love me some Burger King! It never expires, I'm sure I'll eat bread again some day, I promise Pat Ellingson Hains!

The stress compounds. 

190-some days to Mexico. Stressy. I think I'll have a beer. VICTOR!  Relax, scroll to the above, "70, gonna live", and besides, I switched brands, less carbs, calories.

If I fail, I'll buy me some big ass pixels to cover my belly, hiney, etc.

DIE-Tubby.

By Henry Gibson.     Forward by that Dr Now guy

Love, Victurd

Spin..

I'm a word nerd. That don't necessarily mean you're stuck here. "Heavens to Murgatroyd" Snagglepuss might offer, "Exit (spin), stage left" if you prefer.

Spin, to me, fun. Back when we could still run and our bellies were flat, DJ's would spin records all day and night.

I love watching an excellent bowler as they spin the ball in the pocket, all hell breaks loose and there ain't no pins left standing.

Went to Knucklehead's Saloon the other day. Vely unique jont. A nice outdoor stage, two indoor and a huge metal barn for big-name acts. Live music eclectic heaven. Sunday afternoon is 'open jam' day, musicians from near and far come to play, join up with others they've never met - and the collective sound is quite amazing.

Knuckleheads is also people watching heaven. This day, it's mostly old farts like ourselves (we all probably shared a beer and a story 50+ years ago at an 18 bar in Kansas ) For most it takes a beer or two for the nerve to kick in and jump on the dance floor. Some, the music beats through then when they walk in the door - they set their phone, purse, beer on a table and, go gyrate.

Victor? The hell does this have to do with spin?

I am so glad you asked. I love this bar (oughta be a song!) Dancers of many styles. Some barely move, some, I get tired just watching - one gal, she attends about once a month, CRAZY. Crazy in that her dancing style is spin, and spin only. She ain't quite as old but she fer sure has an AARP card. 

It's literally one spinning 360 after another when she dances. Remember the old dizzy race in school?  You put your head on a baseball bat, spin spin and spin 20 times, then take off running in kind of a North South East West direction. Not her, she is the Spin Queen of Equilibrium. I truly don't know how she does it. Maybe you had to be there, amazing to me though.

I know what spins thru my brain is of little interest but, original idea today was a blog about 'After you are gone', didn't sound like an upper to start the day, so, chose spin.

As in I took one. Out in the country, out past a nifty place where a beautiful lady I kinda sorta dated, where she lived before she passed. I slowed down, with windows up I hollered "I love you and miss you!"

Felt good. Real good. If you think sometime a spin like that might be as therapeutic for you, I highly recommend it.

Spin. Nifty word.

Love, Victurd

Hurry...

That word makes me stressy. After that F-word, it's next least favorite.

Watching hurry wears me out.

Ya think about it, we hurry to crawl, walk, eat solid food, talk, get these damn diapers off, go to school, get outta school for the summer, drive, vote, work, marry, procreate, then we watch our little turds in our footsteps and then they fall whilst hurrying.

Tired yet?

We hurry for great job. Well we're movin' on up, house, new car, bigger house, pay off the mortgage, Empty nest, RETIREMENT, smaller house, grandbabies (repeat the above again, hurry), to get OUR  diaper on. A vicious F'n cycle. (You were in a hurry to scold me there weren't you? A vicious FRIGGIN cycle. See what hurry does?)

You can't hurry love. Damnit darnit.

"There are sadistic scientists who hurry to hunt down errors instead of establishing the truth." Marie Curie

A hurried thought Marie, politicians too.

Horace said "Go West young man", so they did, hurriedly. Gold hurry, er, rush. Wagons caused ruts. "Fill em in with (rocks, concrete, a lane in the other direction, two lanes in each direction, faster damnit." "Roads?," Wilbur and Orville said, "we don't need no stinkin' roads." That mighta been Dr. Emmett Brown, sorry, in a hurry here.

Tailgaters. Shiver me timbers. I hate them F'rs. There you go again, I hate them Fast-drivers. Makes me hurried. Sweaty, anxious, aggregated. Damn spellcheck, aggrevated too. If I stop you're gonna bash me. If I move over, you win. If I slow way down you may shoot me. Damnit darnit, no win.

QuikTrip, Kwik Trip, RaceTrac, Kum & Go, In-N-Out,.... Get that damn raisin that's buying 17 different scratch-offs outta the way, I'm in a hurry!

James Brown said "I feel good", me too, when I'm at any of the above stores, or Piggly or Wally and I arrive simultaneously to the checkout with another, I'll say, "Go ahead. I'm retired." I mean it literally with a pinch of envy-drawing smartassedness thrown in.

Victor, hurry. Dragging. Got places to go, people to see.

OK, sure. 

I would never be as mundane or 'do as I say' to close with something like:

"You're only here for a short visit. Don't hurry, don't worry. And be sure to stop to smell the flowers along the way " Walter Hagen

Why? Why Victor would you not say that? Trite? Get accused of preaching again.

F (for goodness sakes) no. Because my luck, there'd be a bee in the flower and I'd be left to hurry up and wait for the swelling to go down.

Geezers unite. Slow down. Enjoy life, unless ya gotta pee, then run ...er, or, hurry.

Damnit. Wet spot, hurry up and dry 

Love, Peace and Soul (remember Soul Train?)

Or, as Cowboy Bob signed off his kids radio show and was in a hurry to get outta there and he forgot to turn off the mike.. (Victor, you've told this one before)...

Ahm... Or, as Cowboy Bob signed off his kids radio show and was in a hurry to get outta there and forgot to turn off the mike... "There..that oughta please the little bastards "

Love, Victurd

Rub off...

I remember when Super Glue was the bomb. When I was roughly nine, I attempted to repair the slot thingy on a slot car. Not only did it rub off, and they hadn't invented anything to remove it completely, but I remember my index finger and thumb being stuck together for most of June and July of 1961.

Of course we learned what poison ivy and poison oak looked like, and we were aware, if it rubbed off on you you were in deep, itchy Doo Doo, subject to funny looks and a pint of Calamine lotion.

Uh oh, didn't realize 'wet paint', at least it ain't my Sunday best.

If one were to walk by my car today you'd find a dirty, dirty car, bugs aplenty, complete with an assortment of Mickey D and Burger King sacks, as well as a probably full ashtray. I ain't lying, several moons ago, my first car, me and Rubbing Compound/Turtle was, before Mr. Miyagi was in vogue, it was wax on, wax off, again and again, in attempt to rub off the dullness and restore the shine.

Shine represents a good place to get to the heart of this blog.

My father.

As you can see, he was one happy dude. He knew a little about a lot. Was a modern hubby before the modern hubby era....cooked, cleaned, laundry, etc.

He would be the first to tell me, "Calm down Victor, most all men, fathers are like that, so, don't make me out to be anything special."

If you say so Pa, but I gotta gotta gotta say, you chose to be happy. Infectiously happy.

He could be a little ornery. When he was in basic for the Army Air Corp, he somehow worked deals to get passes to all four mess halls on base.  For kicks, he'd walk up to the Sergeant, wave all four passes, and say "Excuse me Sir, can you tell me which pass to use here?" Of course he'd get in trouble, but, you couldn't rub the smile off his face.

He'd tell very long stories, draw you in, then end it from right field with a corny (but very clever, creative) pun.

He could sing, especially when he cooked. He acted in plays. He learned all people are created equal and should be treated with respect.

When Liberty MO awarded all trash service to one hauler, he went ahead and also paid his buddy Bert to continue to take our trash weekly.

He loved all animals, kinfolk, smoking his pipe, driving 5 mph UNDER the speed limit, 2 lane road trips, and us.

Of course I'm biased, but he was a good dude.

Even though I surpassed his 5'6" stature long ago, I could never hold a candle to the father I knew.

The goal of living happily, has very much rubbed off though.

Hàpoy Father's Day to all dad's,

Love, Victurd

Oh Rickie you golf so fine, you golf so fine, your 62 nearly blew my mind, hey Rickie, hey Rickie..

364 days ago. The Country Club, Boston.

Hell's bells, let's rewind even further back, like, 29 events ago. Rickie (Fowler) sat darn near atop the golf World. Number 4 in the World to be exact.

White flame hot. More commercial endorsements than Mahomes and Mamoa combined.

If the shirt was orange, EVERYONE knew it was hey hey Rickie you golf so fine, hey Rickie, hey Rickie!

In the background I hear "And then it happened" being sung by whoever sung it.

29 tour events.  NO victories, not even a single Top Ten finish.

Gloom, dispair, agony on he, if it tweren't for bad luck he'd have no luck at all, gloom dispair agony on he.

Hey Rickie? Yain't so fine.  Orangeya gonna throw a club? Tell a fan, or your caddy to piss off?  Camouflage your way and sidestep the media?

364 days ago. The Country Club, Boston. Rickie was the first alternate for The US Open. Never called his name. Never even got to hit a stroke that counted.

Rickie, flip 'em off as you exit the lot, I probably would!

Not Rickie. He was his always kind, polite self. 

"I enjoyed being around and playing with the guys, getting some good work in on the range."

He worked, and worked s'more. Brought his old swing coach back.

Damnit darnit, once again I hear whoever it is that sings it singing "And then it happened"...

Rickie went out yesterday, shot a 62, THE lowest round in the history of the 123 years of The US Open! (In fairness, so did Xander Schauffele.)

Hey Rickie, back golfing so fine, hey Rickie, hey hey hey Rickie!"

By golly if Rickie can do it, so can I! I'll get my old swing coach (Victor you ain't got a swing coach)...I'll get one. I'll go home, home on the range, work, sweat.

I ain't been doin' no cussin', swearin', I been nice, ain't tossin' no clubs!

I'll massacre that one dude that takes a dollar from me every time we play... In fact, I'll save up and buy me one a them fancy new Lincoln Navigators I been wantin'!

I can just hear em on the back deck of our coursea cheerin' "Hey Vick'y you're so fine, hey Vick'y you golf so fine!"

Victor.

Victor.

VICTOR! Wake up, you're dreaming.

Huh? Wha? (gets up, walks to the window, looks out). HEY! That's still my crappy old 2006 Caddy, where's my new Navigator?)

Sit down Victor, we need to talk.

Yeah?

First, nuttin personal, but no matta how much time you spend 'home home on the range' with your golf swing, ain't gonna happen.

Ya mean I ain't gonna get rich taking all of those Georges from that one guy?

No. In fact, ya better transfer a hundred from savings to checking of your check to The KCStar is gonna bounce into the rough, so to speak.

Oh. Then what's the point to all this then? I've been nice too.

Victor, yes, yes you have. Unfortunately there are cameras allover this golf course scanning the front, back, range yada.

Yeah...so?

Remember two weeks ago on 15 you shanked one and right after you threw your club? (And you threw it farther than the goofball actually went.) Remember?

Victor? You're avoiding the media. Be more line Rickie.

OK!! (Darnit)

The point is, be the same. Nice. Always. Then, MAYBE good things will happen, and even if you don't break the course record, won't it make life more enjoyable?

Victor?  Where you going?

I'm going to break a $5 so I can pay that asshat when he whoops me today.

Ooops, sorry, slipped!

Go Rickie, you golf so fine and are always kind, go Rickie!

Love, Victurd

Quit acting your age!

Life, I find, interesting.

But, yes, you can start a sentence with but. But, life don't come with no 'structions.

We plop out. Well, some if us are pulled out, cut out..  and then they herd us into a room fulla other straight jacketed snotnoses...our eyesight aint great yet, but examples abound for us to learn how to behave, aka, act our age.

Then, we crawl, then walk. Then, mom/dad dump us off at preschool where we are surrounded by many our age.  We cutout triangles, squares, rectangles with scissors so dull they wouldn't cut a pinkie off. The bright colored construction paper pieces that look more like rhomboids complete with scribbles allover em are tossed in our backpacks as we eyeball the door for hours awaiting mom or dad to show. 

Whilst at this preschool, we are placed in the sandbox with others where we learn to knock over the other guys sand castle, throw sand (or drop a few grains down the back of Susie's shirt), get sand outta our eyes, shoes, diapers (some of us are slow learners), and ultimately, learn to SHARE 

IE, examples all around. We are taught how to act our age. Ossimosis too I spose.

The colorful rhomboids are magneted to the fridge 'forever'. By the time we ride the yellow bus, learn to spell our name via friend Big Chief, we don't notice the rhomboids are gone and the soccer and school lunch schedules have taken their place.

Pick up the pace Victor, this is dragging a bit.

The point is, all along the watchtower, no that ain't it. All along our toddler, early childhood, school age, transition to adulthood, adulthood, there are examples near, far, everywhar. It's easy to be the corresponding age.

I don't know how to be old. Three bedroom old home converted into apartments. 30-something the floor above me, 40-something in the apartment beside me, no help, role modeling, yada.

I usedta go to WallyWorld and I made it a point to walk around the damn store until I found someone older than me. "Excuse me ma'am, what year did you graduate?". Just kidding, but I did go look. Now, I give up. There are NO examples for me, us.

I think I mentioned I'm going to Mehico for a month in January. Two fraternity brothers, one's spouse, and me. Daily, we have a text chain where I am the referee between these two beautiful fraternity brothers who lovingly go for one-upmanship over the other, much like living in the 70's at 36 Moss in the Sigamanu house.

This morning we were discussing dinners out and I mentioned the wonderful humongous tenderloins at Christine's Firehouse in NKC. If yaint been, youghta. $14.50, we split em in two, plenty for each.

One one-upmanship (about the other) said "Trust me, ___ knows all the food specials...like Jerry Seinfeld's dad in Florida."

I laughed, then peed a bit maybe. Is that normal for an old person?

One upmanship continued, "He complains about how noisy the kids are in the pool. He's in full retiree mode in Puerto Penasco."

Apparently, at this condo, there is a kids pool, a heated adults only pool and a hot tub. When it's overcrowded, the kids filter into the old folks pool."

Defending himself, other one upmanship guy said "It only bothers me in Jan/Feb, when the family pool is too cold and those rug rats come over to the heated adult pool."

Much. There is much nobody taught me about being old. I barely brush my forearm up agin' the bathroom door then later that night I look down and there's this damn purple spot the size of Australia.

Today, Wednesday, is kinda a fav for me as the grocery ads come out. With pen and paper I'm ready to write down any/all bargains and I notate 'HyVee, Aldi's, Sprouts, Piggly Wiggly,WallyWorld and yes, if gas is somewhere under an arm and a leg, I'll drive to all five. (Got to of course remember the quarter for Aldi's AND take my own bag for the groceries as the basta's charge you for them if you don't.)

Halfway between scouting all the 7 day ads (my eyes were getting sore) I slammed the lid to my laptop down and muttered mostly under my breath "Them ain't sale prices. Howinthehell am I supposed to make it to midnight next Tuesday (My social security, 3rd Tuesday at midnight monthly!")

And, under my breath I continued to bitch "How come Boogie gets his check EVERY month on the 15th and I gotta wait until the third Tuesday? Sometimes that means a full extra week!"

I jumped up from my chair in disgust. Well, that ain't true. I centered myself in chair, grabbed both chair armrests, grunted, groaned, pushed.  Finally on feet. A moment to orientate body, head rush, and went to pee.

Made the mistake of recently adding a 2nd 60 Watt bulb over the sink cause I usedta shave and miss spots the size of Mosby. Now, I see each and every wrinkle, yuck.

And just look at that damn ear hair, it's 3/4's an inch long! I'm embarrassed, I've been everywhere the last few days and I wondered why folks were laughing at me!  WHY? WHY DIDN'T PEOPLE TELL ME WHAT BEING OLD WOULD BE LIKE?

After #2 (damnit, last roll of toilet paper.. did you know that crap is a dollar a roll now?) I'm gonna take a nap, IF, them snotnoses in the apartment above ain't running relay races.

I don't know how to do all this...act old.

Victor?

Yes?

I think you're doing quite well at it.

Bite me,

Love, Victurd

Just some quick things kids have learnt me...

Hugs feel good.

Dogs like to kiss. Me too.

Moms are the best.

Your face will wash up nice after dinner.

I don't necessarily know what you call it, but I know when I eat chocolate, I want more.

Talking into the fan makes me laugh.

Laughing feels good.

Boo boos happen, tears usually come along for the ride, but like ice cream in the freezer, it don't last long.

Friends smile when you give 'em the last few pieces of popcorn in the bag.

Sometimes  I resist at first, but then after I finally jump in the tub I feel so, so much better.

If I forget to put the lid back down and later I go to poop, it's a big cold surprise and my butt falls through. Helps make me remember.

When I first moved here, I admit I was pretty lonely. I understood kids playing with people they already know, still, it was lonely. Then one day at recess, Leroy Peters came up to me and gave me a piece of blue gum. Now I always carry blue gum.

I like saying my prayers every night.

Santa, the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny are real.

There are better singers than me, that's OK and it doesn't keep me from singing. 

Everyone was happy when I learned the difference between a dry erase marker and a permanent marker but I still don't understand why they call it a magic marker.

Strawberries from the garden taste better than the ones from Piggly Wiggly, but theirs are pretty good too.

I love to hold mom's hand so she won't get lost.

If you're riding in the car and you gotta pee, it's best to tell someone right away.

Dad's ain't bad either.

Acting goofy, when appropriate, makes time fly.

We, my brothers and sisters, get mad at each other, but I'd rather have 'em than not.

We don't see our cousins a whole lot, but for whatever reason, when we do, it's as comfy as if they were our next door neighbors, even better, they/we usually get to spend the night..

Grandparents aren't quite as fast but they're really fast to love.

I wouldn't wanna live anywhere else.

When moms (or dads) are sad, or cry, they need hugs too.

I've learned it feels good to hear "nice job", "good try" and "you look nice today", so, I try to say it too.

If you want to know or learn something, most always someone older can help 

I didn't believe it at first, but sometimes you can have just as much fun (or more) when you put your phone, IPad or laptop to the side for a bit.

I usually miss the end of the movie at the Drive In.

Farts are funny.

Sometimes they tell me I talk (or type) too much.

By Henry Gibson.    Forward by Art Stinkletter.

Love, Victurd

In the year 2033.....

Hey, how'ya doin'?

I'm alright, thanks, a little tired, but what's new....

What's new? 

Yeah, I laid down ten years or so ago and I don't remember nuttin'.

Same ole double negatives, you'll never change. Well, sorry to report your BFF has gone to the beyond.. 

NO WAY!  A picture of health, one of the very few I know that did the right things health wise.... Exercised 3-4 days a week, forever!

Way. Forever until 2027. Massive heart attack.

We were gonna go to Cooperstown....did we?

No. Remember?  Your BFF found a wonderful air/car/hotel package that actually fit in your budget.

Did my BFF back out?

No. Remember?  You said you had to work.

Damn. He didn't even make it to our reunion.. 

No, but neither did you.

What?  

Yeah, you were mad about something, someone... You stayed home. In fact, since the last one you went to in 2022 your class has lost, 

STOP! I don't wanna know the number.. just tell me how...

OK, but it's not pretty.  Seven, cancer. Four, dementia. One each: MS, aneurysm, car wreck, Parkinson's..

STOP!  I don't wanna hear any more... What about ____  ______?

I'm sorry, gone too. No one knows how...someone just ran across the obit when doing a Google name search...

This is horrible!  I'm afraid to even ask about the last family reunion...

Yeah, in fact, I wouldn't...and you didn't even go.  If I remember correctly either you didn't think you could afford it at the time...or, maybe that was the time your back was kinda sore and you stayed home to rest...

I did?

Yes.

Did I stay home a lot these last ten years?

You did, but you got to watch a lot of the shows you like, tons of Chiefs, Royals games....and you wrote in your blog a lot.

WAIT!  I don't care about that stuff... I mean, I do, BUT, people are what makes me, ALL OF US, tick!

You said you were tired. Your 'affliction.'

Affliction, smiction, damnit, I wanna (shoulda) go (gone), do (done). Why didn't you wake me up?  I mean, I know that's wrong, it's all my fault, but, mebbe you coulda tapped me on the shoulder?

Victor, I am.

Huh?

I'm sorry, kinda, but not really. I mean I'm sorry for the blow by blow...it's actually still 2023.

YES!  So...my classmates?

None of those were true, but, things are gonna happen.  It was perhaps a wicked gut punch, but I thought you needed it.

And... Family?  The family reunion?

No. No changes, but, I might point out you guys don't presently have reunions...

Yeah, thanks, maybe we can change that..  

Who ya calling?

My BFF...  He is still...

Yes, he is, and he's doing good. What are ya gonna do after that?

I'm gonna turn this damn apartment upside down looking for my Passport.  Going to Mexico for a MONTH in January with buddies of fifty years and I aint never done nuttin' like that.

Cool, then what?

Golf baby, 2:30!

What about your affliction?

Many worse than me. I don't mean "many golfers worse than me" because I suck at golf (but don't care!)... I mean many worse off than I healthwise.

True.

Hey?

Yeah?

Thanks for the wake-up call, I needed it. How would we go about reminding other folks (if you don't move, you die.)?

I don't know Victor, I don't know.

Happy 2023, love, Victurd

Thirsty? Just Whistle!

I'm a hoarder of sorts. Like the next guy, time, life 'provide' for an inordinate amount of crap that will either bring pennies come Estate Sale day or, head to the dumpster to also be ultimately buried too. In this case though, I''m talking about a list of favorite words snatched up along the way from kiddygarden, to just yesterday morning.

Zimbabwe is one. Just hella fun to say (and hear).  Some regular ole regular like love, nice, passion, sweet, farts pooters...whippersnapper, snotnose, chimchimcheree, inagaddadavida, and of course boomshakalaka.

Thirst. Add thirst to the above list. (May be a pop quiz later, so please be thinking of your favs!)

Merriam, I assume madam librarian, relates 'a sensation of dryness in the mouth and throat associated with a desire for liquids'.. well sure, and 'a desire  or need to drink', so "well duh", hella why it's on my list.

Merriam continues 'an ardent desire', CRAVING, LONGING...  Yeah baby, I'm all over that one.

Thirst. Thirst to be here. An ardent desire to put the tootsies on the floor in the morning. The quest, want, to go see 'alive', friends, loved ones, birds, trees, rain, snow, sunshine.. to wanna feel the wind.. smell whatever the situation lends... To wanna partake, be among.... Smile, laugh, cry...FEEL!

Sure, a thirst for, in, of, a relationship. You didn't ask, but on of my all-time favorite movie quotes... On Golden Pond.... Bitter that she really didn't have what she (Chelsea) graded as a good relationship with her father (Norman Thayer), Chelsea in a breath calls him a sonofabitch to her mother, Ethel Thayer.  Ethel, OOZING with relationship thirst for her hubby replies "That sonofabitch happens to be my husband " Yum.

Want. Awaken. Smile. Go. See. Sit if it feels better. Pet a hound. Take a drive. Hold hands. Use the word love. Chin at least level. 

Thirst looms large. Must be kept in hip pocket, and heart.

Yes, it can disappear, usually temporary. Enlist: Doctor, friends, loved ones, and probably most importantly, self.

Victor, there you go preaching again. Nope. I've simply experienced thirst dwindling, lending a hand.

We've all probably observed friends, loved ones, who have been through so so much...for whatever reason, "I'm tired" is communicated. Sad.

Just as sad, bastard mental afflictions that literally steal the ability, want, knowledge of how to eat and drink.

Sometimes life plainly sucks.

Thus, we gotta fill the resta our time up thirsting any, every thing life puts in front of us.

Love you. Did I mention friend was onea my favs too?

Just whistle!

Love, Victurd

Close to...... sumpin...

Why do birds suddenly appear, every time you....put birdseed out?

Why do stars fall down from the sky
every time you..... are driving around at night almost asleep at the wheel? Are they like, "Eh, Charlie, I've been hanging around  for, what, three billion years now, I think I'm gonna go."?

On the day that you were born the Angels got together.... and probably swept the Royals in a four game series..

That is why all the boys in town follow you all around.... there's a hole in your back pocket and pennies, dimes and quarters are falling out with every step you take..

Just like me, they long to be..... rich.

Sorry, bad case of writer's block.

Victor? Whointhehell called you a writer?

Eh, right you are. Maybe I should be a Carpenter, close to you.... right Karen?

Idea uno was 'all about apostrophes' <-- did I just miss one?

I's.... Victor, that would appear to be an incorrect contraction using "I is." It's I'm, I am, NOT I is. You can't do that.

You mean like when I say "I is the ninth letter of the alphabet?

Smartass.

That, I is. Lilliane, oh Lilliane.

Old age, I's, er, I'm finding, is oft times about I can not, or, the contraction 'can't'.

As in, I useda could, but now I can't...enter youthful crap here, ie, like run, jump, hop, stay up til midnight to watch the ball drop (anyone making a joke about droopy balls, I's gonna getya!)

I once was young, but now I'm old... I can't... leap tall buildings in a single bound... walk a mile without having to stop and pee... walk a mile..cartwheel..forward roll (at least not on purpose)... stuff a basketball..ok damnit, yes, it was a tennis ball but I did do it once! I's not lying!

Burl Ives, you can blow all the smoke you wanna outta that Little Engine That Could what with it's "I think I can, I think I can, I think I have a plan"... but, much, I's, we's, old folks, can't.

Just like me, they long to be close to you.

But, I can't.

With apologies, this blog is so bad it should self destruct in two minutes.

Maybe ya had to be there.

Love, Victurd

A pea podcast...

 Two peas in a pod. I reckon vely similar. Or, as Wolfgang Busch, the helmeted German soldier on Laugh In might say, "Vely interesting."

Could be two siblings.  Could be a/any couple. Any further descriptors, traits might garner front page news, hatespeak, yada.

Peas are annuals, which, may figure. Mr. Pea and Mrs Pea both go to work. Mr. Pea might verbally compose a memo while his secretary provides shorthand.  If other hands get involved, it could turn to split peas, which, are actually used for peas porridge.

Male piggy peas have quite the reputation for this, but too, Goldilocks ate porridge from three different bowls, AND slept in three different beds.

Oft times, peas go to counseling to appease the wants, demands of one or the other, but the majority of the time, they start out sleeping in different bedrooms in the pod and eventually split, thus, poor'ridge.

Pea cultivars normally mature in sixty days, however some do on the first date, get their own pod, perhaps have regrets later, realizing they've mistaken 'Whoop'pea!' for two peas in a pod.

If two peas procreate, only to become split peas, it's a hella mess. The four bedroom manor is sold (or foreclosed), each get a new pod, usually a studio apartment, little peas often must share a bedroom, thus, virtually no pot to pea in. They get little peas every other December 25th, and provide half the rides for soccer, dance, scouts, yada. Sometimes later even gather free agents, known better as step'pea kids.

401K's become worthless 200 and a half K's.  Each former pea podder might fill the ears of the young peas about how horrible the other pea is, was. Children, some, see thru this and understand perhaps it's green pea envy.

Then, sometimes, two peas in a pod works.  Forever and ever. Golden anniversaries are held, four bedroom manor down to a ranch... The elder peas eventually pass.  Little peas fight, argue over goods, money,... It can get slop'pea.  Sometimes they even haveta get a storage unit, go to court, judgement entered but all green money won't even pay to get the goods outta hock. Back to square one, or maybe round one (pea).

Movies are made about these lifelong stories, can be viewed with wifi and Peacock network. Most peas love animals, foster, volunteer for Peata.

Some are devistated for life, disappear, only to be reached at a P(ea)O box.

I think I'm done here now. Yes, I know I'm weird, thus, haven't found, kept other pea in pod. 

It's OK. I'm hap'pea, truly.

Gotta pea now.

Hap'pea resta the weekend.

Love, Victurd