Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Dogggggggggggiiiiiiiiieeeeessssss......

Nothing to do with this blog.  Ok, maybe a tad.

Of course, it's Jed Clampett, expressing perhaps, disbelief..  astonishment.. "I can't believe it." Or, maybe a simple review of Grannie's crockpot creation.

Alla the below, stolen from Wiki.

Who the heck am I?

My folks (Ira Doyle and Myrle Marie) moved from Arkansas to Texas to look for work (before I was born.)  Then, I was born. Ta-da! It was April 29, 'ceptin the Doctor wrote it down wrong, and put April 30.  My cousin Mildred actually named me - and, she chose my middle name Hugh in honor of her recently deceased brother.

Dad was a mechanic, and HEY?  Where'd mom go?  She bootscooted not long after I was born.  Dad remarried, and HEY?  Where'd he go? He took off too!

So........ thankfully, my grandparents took my sister Bobbie and I in... and we went to school in Abbott, TX.  During summers, our whole fam damily would pick cotton alongside other Abbott residents.  I did not like picking cotton, so.....  Real early in life I started making a buck or two in the field that, once you know, will hopefully figure out who I am.

To look at me today, you wouldn't know it, but HEY, I was a perty good athlete!  Whenya think of good athletes, it's normally the dude who is the Point Guard in basketball, the Quarterback in Football and the Shortstop in Baseball.  Well, that was me - 'ceptin I played halfback insteada quarterback. Still, not bad eh?

I was in the Future Farmers of America, and weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee doogggggggggiiiiiieeesssss, I raised pigs.  Wanna see my ribbons?  As I got a tad older, I worked as a relief telephone operator...  then, as a tree trimmer.  And, for a short, ifn's you needed money real bad, you could bring me your jewelry, coins, tools to the pawn shop where I worked.

Hup two three four - out the door, United States Air Force... well, for nine months anyways.  Then I started having some back probs.  When'd ya get em? About a weak back. So............. they gave me a medical discharge.

Then, I went to Baylor University for a couple years, majored in agriculture, joined Tau Kappa Epsilon. You were a Teke? I am a Teke, yes.  After two years, I started making a buck or two in the field that, once you know, will hopefully figure out who I am, so, quit college. "That", where I started making a buck or two in the field that, one you know, will hopefully figure out who I am, wasn't all I did..  I'd married Martha.. and I too was a nightclub bouncer, autohouse partsman, saddle maker, and, did the tree trimmin' thing again.

I think it was that Horace fellow who said "Go West Young Man", so I did, to San Diego. Not a lotta opportunity there, so, I hitchhiked to Portland, Oregon, where my mom lived. Except, weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee doogggggggggiiiiiieeesssss, nobody picked me up - so, I slept in a ditch.. then, hopped a train bound for Eugene.  Once there, a nice truck driver picked me up, drove me to the bus station, and then loaned me 10 bucks for a ticket to Portland.

That, where I started making a buck or two in the field that, one you know, will hopefully figure out who I am, helped me see places.  Uproot a lot, so to speak.  We're talking, Colorado... then Springfield, Missouri... to compliment "that side job" thing, I worked as a dishwasher.  Didn't much care for that, so... moved back to Texas... for a year, I gave up "that side job" where I started making a buck or two in the field that, once you know, will hopefully figure out who I am. So?  Then, what'd ya do?

Well, I sold vacuum cleaners and Bibles door to door, then, I became a sales manager for the Encyclopedia Britannica. We welcomed son Billy into the world, then moved to Houston, Texas. I worked at "that side job" for a couple years, then we bootscooted to Nashville, Tennessee. I spent an hour or four-hundred hanging out at Tootsie's Orchid Lounge, you may'a heard'a that one.

Martha and I had divorced, made it ten years.. then I met wife to be #2, Shirley, where I started making a buck or two in the field that, one you know, will hopefully figure out who I am. We got hitched in Vegas, then, I did a job associated with "that side job" in Pico Rivera, California. But, since it really wasn't "that side job" I was doing, we bought a ranch in Ridgetop, Tennessee.

Took a few short trips in "that side job" that was now my  real job, but, twasn't making ends meet, so,  Shirley ended.  My ranch in Tennessee burned down, I looked at it as 'a signal for change', so.. moved to another ranch, this time in Bandera, Texas. Yep, wife #3 (Connie.) Twas a whirlwind. While I was doing "that side job, now my real job" it just wasn't going as I liked it, so, I decided to retire from where I started making a buck or two in the field that.  WAIT!  You can't do that, you'll NEVER be famous then!

So, got the itch again. Moved to Austin, Texas.. Eventually got back in "that side job, now my real job" and, that was the enda ever picking cotton, raisin' pigs, bouncing at clubs, fetching auto parts, pawn shops, trimmin' trees, hawkin' Bibles, vacuums (that job sucked), washin' dishes, because... where I started making a buck or two in the field that, once you know, will hopefully figure out who I am, I started making it.

What else?  What else, outside of "that (once) side job" where I started making a buck or two in the field that, once you know, will hopefully figure out who I am, what else did you do?

Well... along with another couple, we built two bio-diesel plants, and started selling it to truck stops. Yeah?  Yeah. And, close your ears, I likes me some pot.  I've been very active in NORML. Yeah?  Yep, in fact, started the Tea-Pot Party, "tax it, regulate it, legalize it." Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Dogggggggggggiiiiiiiiieeeeessssss, uh huh, that's what many would say after. And?

I like horses. In fact, I went to DC as an advocate for better treatment of horses, and campaigned for passage of the American Horse Slaughter Prevention Act, alongside the Animal Welfare Institute.

I've been married four times........Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Dogggggggggggiiiiiiiiieeeeessssss... had 8 kids (wee doggy, wee doggy, wee doggy, wee doggy, wee doggy, wee doggy, wee doggy, wee doggy). There was a tad bit of violence in onea my marriages.. she sewed me up in my bedsheets and then beat me with a broomstick. Gggggyooooolllllleeeeeeee! (What I said too Gomer, as well as owwwwwwwwiiiieeeee..)  So, I gots me a a second degree blackbelt in taekwondo.

I've been arrested a few times for pot. Sorry. Kinda. Not really. First in Dallas.. then, me and a buddy flew to the Bahamas, we was late for the plane so they sent our bags later. Went to pick em up, uh huh, arrested.  Pot in 'em. (Who let the drug sniffing dogs out?)..  They arrested me, so, my buddy arranged to get me out, fetched me a six packa beer, drank it, they let me out a few hours later, I was tipsy, jumped with excitement, fell, took me to ER. So. judge wasn't happy.  Let me go, but told me "Don't ever come back to this Country." OK.

The IRS knows me.  In fact, once they said I needed to pay them $32 million. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Dogggggggggggiiiiiiiiieeeeessssss that's a lotta tree-trimmin', Bible hawkin', pigs sold, bio-fuel.  Lawyer got it reduced to $16 mil, then, negotiated that down with the IRS to $6 million, I didn't comply. Instead, I used "that side job, now my real job", made up sumpin', friends bought it, the IRS auctioned off my assets.. buddies, friends, bought 'em, and most of 'em donated 'em back to me. Finally got them outta my hair (it's long) in 1993.

Looking back, that side job that became my real job that, where I started making a buck or two in the field that, once you know, will hopefully figure out who I am took me a few places.  Like 2,693.  Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Dogggggggggggiiiiiiiiieeeeessssss.  You've been everywhere! Are you Johnny Cash?

That's "Crazy"! No, but I have been on the road again, and again, and I really can't wait to get back on the road again.

Thanks for reading my checkenginelight blog, you are always on my mind.

Love, Victurd

 

Now what?

We done did mosta the 2023 thing...... and turn the corner into 2024.  Assumed any way.  Each day is an assumption ain't it?

Christine McVie, may she RIP, ye of Fleetwood Mac fame, in 1976 wrote "Don't Stop" thinking about tomorrow..  Don't stop, it'll soon be here... It'll be better than before... yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone.  Rumours have it (pun intended dangit, can ya let your hair down and laugh for a sec? jk. Mebbe) rumors have it, it was written during her separation from hubby, band mate, bass guitar player John McVie after 8 years of marriage.

Webster says "HOLY SMOKES" is used 'to show something surprising, shocking. The song was on the album "Rumours."  They was gonna call the album "Yesterday's Gone". It was Katy Bar The Door time for the band.  McVie/McVie separated, Lyndsey Buckingham and Stevie Nicks were going thru a breakup (hence, the songs "Go Your Own Way", "Dreams") and, a fading cherry atop, Mick Fleetwood was going thru a divorce.  Holy guacamole, that's a lotta guac.  Jointly, again, mebbe pun intended, I dunno that to be true though.. they decided.. since in SoCal all the talk was about the band's personal drama, - "Rumours" it is on the album name.

Where was I?

2023, oh yeah.  How was your year?  Waistline the same?  Victor, that's an odd question, Mebbe, I dunno.  Health? Town the same?  Car the same?  Same dadgum routine daily? Ya roll over at night, that the same person next to you? I pray you still pet the same hound(s), cat(s). Kids move out?  Kids move back in? Annuder grandkid (or two)?  Still workin'? Eat a pine tree during '23?

Some, I learned from 2023... MODOT keeps using cheaper and cheaper white paint to line the highways.. I swear WalMart and Piggly Wiggly moved the restrooms a little further away.  I go to bed earlier, and, presto, get up earlier.  Victor?  Yeah?  Nobody asked.  Sorry, kinda.

If you wake up and don't want to smile

If it takes just a little while
Open your eyes and look at the day
You'll see things in a different way

That's what Christine wrote, not me.  I find it kinda humorous (Victor, it's like you say when someone says "Got a funny story"... you stop them, tell them "YOU TELL IT, WE'LL DECIDE IF IT'S FUNNY."  Who are you and how did you get in my keyboard?)  Ahem, I find it funny, year after year after year, John McVie went on stage, sang, strummed "Don't Stop" and didn't learn until 2015, some 39 years later, the song was written to him, for him.  Damnit, you didn't laugh.  Tough audience.

So now what? Whatabout 2024 for you?  Morea the same? Any trips lined up? Planta paint that one room you hate the color of?  Perennially give up on annuals?  Need your ducts cleaned out or car warranty extended? You still gonna wear that paira pants you shoulda thrown away in 2011?  Howabout NEW UNDIES! I suppose it Depends, but that's exciting to me!

Ready for them there election ads? Erection (lacka) ads?  Gonna clean up your... language? Closet? Basement? Spending? Saving? Part time job?  Hell to the no?  Does your brain still feel 20-something?  When you hear "it's like riding a bike" do you now think "Only a stationary one" like me?  Work on the bucket list?

Tag.  Huh? Yes Victor, now we are asking.  What about your 2024?  Oh, I dunno. On the short list of heroes... jk, kinda.. I might drive my John Deere nekkid down I-435... or, grab me some suction cups and climb the Trump Towers.. or, I could make up a whole buncha crap and run for Representative in NY.  Always wanted to see NY.  Stop, Victor.  No, you stop, HA!. This blog is about "Don't Stop, thinkin' about tomorrow.

As in tomorrow, I leave for Mehico for like 30-some days,.  I ain't never done anything like that. You?  You gonna do/plan something ya ain't never done in 2024? Or, is same ole same ole comfy?

Why not think about times to come
And not about the things that you've done
If your life was bad to you
Just think what tomorrow will do

Thanks for that Christine, and right you are.  Tomorrow is "huh, what'd you say? No Espanol." And, $2 beers. $7 meals.  $5 haircuts. Bingo. Darts. Trivia. Tacos. Burittos. The Sea of Cortez. Two, count 'em TWO tides a day. Pools, count em, TWO of em. One for snotnoses, one for old farts, bar between the two. Old fart pool is heated, hell to the yes. Two hot tubs. I am ready to show the World my 'ring'.  Huh?  Yeah.. my 'tan'. I wear shorts here mosta the year.. and, friggin' compression socks. SO.. my tan consists of a 6 inch ring between the bottom of my shorts and the toppa my compression socks.  I find, 71 brings my attitude on much, "I don't care what people think." You like that?  Did I mention $2 beers? Got any Modelo Negra Senor'?  That's my favorite.

I resolve to not resolve. You?  I know me.  Creature of (mostly bad) habits. No parkin' by the sewer sign hot dog my razors broke, water drippin' up the spout, but I don't care, let it all hang out.  You Hombre?  Hombre, if ya ain't aware, is Spanish for man or guy..  it's also the name of the band that wrote 'I don't care let it all hang out", and yes, that means, please go directly to jail, do not stop, collect $200 pesos cause it's the second time I've (attempted to) say a funny and you didn't laugh.  

Seriously, sometimes I can do that. Not often, but can.  I want happiness for you.. and sure, selfishly me.  I want good health for us all.  I want remote controls, the ability to 'click' next page when my, your, eyeballs see, hear, YUCK.  We've enough of that.

Full speed ahead.  (Joke #3). We know, eventually, what's coming.  We know too, one day we'll go over the list of "Coming to Concert in KC in year such-n-such" and we'll Butch Cassidy say "Who are those guys?" One day we'll be at Wally and holler "Alight damnit, WHO took the last motorized cart." Oh wait, nevermind, I've already did that in 2023. Sorry, kinda.

I'm simply thankful for us to awaken, should. when (fingers crossed) 2024 happens.  Trite, but every day is a gift.

(Quick OpEd. The Beatles sang "Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away.. now it looks as though they're here to stay.. oh I believe in yesterday."  Well kinda sorta. I mighta written it "Yesterday.. all my trouble seemed to get in the way." JK,. kinda sorta.)

I WILL always love yesterday. It's you. Me.  The who, what where when. The footsteps, tire tracks, with work, kids, a touch of 'oh baby oh baby', weight gain, loss, Dentists (I hate dentists), broken bones, itchy itchy rashes, trips to the DMV, IGA, CVS, YMCA (you can get yourself clean, you can have a good meal, you can do whatever you feel, at the YMCA), LAUGHTER, tears, hugs, breakups, makeups, much.  People have said I live in the past. I don't care, let it all hang out Hombre.

But tomorrow.  Scary. Exciting.  Kool-Aid Kool-Aid, taste great, wish I had some, can't wait!

We are here.  Might as well enjoy.  Hug, laugh, emote.  

If you wake up and don't want to smile

If it takes just a little while
Open your eyes and look at the day
You'll see things in a different way

Victor, don't preach to me.

A preachment, dear friends, you are about to receive
On John Barleycorn, nicotine, and the temptations of Eve.

In 2024, may you let it all hang out Hombre.  (You ladies as well).

Love, Victurd

Top ten reasons Chiefs lost......

 

1. How can anyone expect us to catch the ball in THAT weather?

2. The golf carts ran out of gas.

3. Even though it's been knitted 87, this Era of Taylor is now old hat.

4. We can't expect Patrick to throw it and catch it too..

5. Heard some boos.. the fans are too Nagytive about our offense.

6. Clark forgot to purchase HomeOwners from Jake.

7. The Westport Flea Market (Best cheeseburgers in town) was closed for Christmas. Andy had to eat at the Awful Waffle.

8. That wasn't Andy, he was stuck in traffic. That was that guy that looks like Andy

9. How can we turn the table when Isiah broke it?

10. What do you expect, not having Toney?

11, For extra credit. At the end of the day, who's EB?

Love, Victurd

Other people's Christmas......

Merry Christmas...

Certain we all have (hopefully) wonderful memories of specific Christmas's, and/or, Christmas mems in and of themselves... (or is that 'themself', sorry, ain't sure.)

I hope, my friends David and Susan won't get upset with me sharing the below...

Rather than bore you with mems of my Christmas's as a kid.. (Oh wait, a couple quickies.. 6 of us cousins. Three, were five or so years older than the resta us.  One year, the older ones, of the age of 'too big for their britches', and really 'too old to play with dolls'...  "When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter."  No, not Santa.  The three older ones.  A beautiful, gifted tin/aluminum dollhouse, HUGE.. I can't remember which cousin got it for Christmas... When we heard that clatter, we all went to see... Lo and behold, three (mebbe 9, 10 yr olds?) jumping up and down atop the dollhouse.. smashing it to smitherines... into a flat hunka metal. Little turds!

Quick #2. Bowling. We all (three families) arrived at Grandma/Grandpa's Christmas Eve.. the three uncles would then go 'bowling'. We young ones had to await their return to finally open presents.  Annually, their arrival back at grannies got to be later and later. Twasn't until we were old enough to detect the scent of alcohol, but then and only then, we realized none of 'em bowled a lick on Christmas Eve. What I'd give for the three of them to be able to do that again. (Or, even have us 6 cousins together in wait.. there are only 3 of us now.)

Now the sharing.  I hope these two friends won't get upset I'm sharing - but I thought their stories were fascinating, unique, beautiful.

First story, "The Luminary" from friend David, posted last night, Christmas Eve.

"41 years ago tonight, Cathy and I were the Youth Coordinators at Liberty United Methodist Church. We had scheduled the youth to setup luminaries on the drive to the church. Cathy was pregnant and due Jan 1st. Only a couple of the kids showed up to help. Cathy and I with couple kids rolled a wheel Barrow around full of sand. When we got home we were dressing to go to church but, we got sidetracked, our daughter decided it was time. At 1:29am Christmas Day, Elizabeth arrived and our world has never been the same. God Blessed us beyond measure."

Second story, from friend Susan. Not sure what one can label it other than "WOW!"... Much, much comes to mind.  Snow, snow, more snow, family, bonding, tribulation, separation, teamwork, love, forever memories, etc.

My most memorable Christmas is the Colorado blizzard of 1982, when we lived off the grid in a little house we built at 9700 ft elevation in the mountains above Central City.

It was our first Christmas living on the mountain and we were still learning how to live and thrive in the environment we had chosen. I must also admit that we weren’t quite as stocked up with emergency provisions as we could/should have been.

Jerry worked in Denver so on a typically snowy Christmas Eve he headed to work leaving early so that he could get groceries to bring home after work. He worked the swing shift as a diesel mechanic at Safeway on CO Blvd. His commute was long and especially hard in the winter! On this particular morning, he chained up our CJ-5 Jeep and drove his usual hour-and-a-half commute to Denver, stopping to remove the tire chains once he got to the paved road and then continuing on to work. It was snowing when he left and the snow kept coming; it snowed and snowed.

Back at home, we had a battery radio, and according to the reports Denver was also getting record snowfall. We were beyond snowed in and it was apparent from the news that Jerry was snowbound in Denver. There was so much snow (42”) that even our snowmobile was snowed in. Christmas came and went without Jerry getting home. The boys and I spent that time scrambling trying to deal with so much snow. Ronnie (14), and Rusty (13), pulled Ryan (5) around on a sled trying to pack down trails. Just getting to the dog pen, the firewood, and the outhouse were huge tasks. We also wanted packed trails for the snowmobile once Jerry made it home and got it going. The boys were great about doing anything needed plus doing some epic sledding etc with all that snow!

We never doubted that Jerry would make it home, although we weren’t sure how he would get there. We had food but certainly weren’t stocked like we should have been. I had done some canning over the summer but it was my first time, and it was a huge failure. I made potato soup and I remember baking lots of bread. Our friends the Gibbins family also lived up on the mountain year-round, they lived about a mile away from us, and had been caught off guard as well. We pooled our provisions and helped each other out the best we could. The travel between our homes was through the thick forest, on foot, and not the least bit easy. They had no transportation to speak of at the time.

We finally had Jerry home 3 days after Christmas. We heard our Malamutes barking well after dark. Looking outside there was Jerry. He was cold, tired, and quite relieved we were ok. He had driven the Jeep as far as possible and then braved the last three miles on snowshoes which was something he had never done before. He said it was quite disorienting snowshoeing through the woods in the dark. He told us how Denver had been paralyzed by the storm. Jerry had spent two nights with friends after spending the first night of the storm in the shop at work. Having a Jeep and tire chains meant he could get around the city since most people in Denver were completely snowed in. Each day he would attempt to get home and finally realized that snowshoes were his only option. He Jeeped as far as possible, left the Jeep and then got out the snowshoes. It took him three hours on foot. He said once he got to the trail the boys had made it was a huge relief!

We celebrated a belated Christmas and then got to the business of figuring out transportation and how to get in and out for some needed groceries and supplies. Jerry got the snowmobile going. Another family in the area had a vintage 4wd WWII ambulance that the men got running. I wish we had a video of how that must have looked breaking trail to a plowed road. Jerry retrieved the Jeep and things began looking up. We were finally able to get some much needed groceries etc. The rest of the winter went pretty well but still difficult. We weren’t able to drive all the way to our place until June.

The logistics of Jerry getting to work and the older boys getting back and forth to the bus stop weren’t easy. Ryan had to drop out of kindergarten until spring as we couldn’t navigate the half-day schedule. He and I stayed home literally keeping the home fires burning. We had many more adventures living as we did but we were never caught without provisions again! So many memories and stories from this time in our life. They were adventurous and challenging years that none of us would trade for anything.

Merry Christmas everyone

If you've a story to tell, please do! We'd love to hear... Merry Christmas..

Love, Victurd

Houston, we have a problem.....

Twas three nights before Christmas, when all through The Pole,

The elves were all stirring, trying to console.......

There was concern of, and for, Santa. He was'a slippin'.  The years were starting to take their toll.  But too, last week was the annual Elf on a Shelf dinner...  the next morning he awoke -  diarrhea, severe abdominal pain in the big ole belly... massive fatigue.. close your pointed ears, he was upchucking.  "Mebbe the pork was undercooked and he'd gotten that tricky-nosis" hollered Emie Elf...

"His breath reeked too," chimed Theo Elf... "so, I went and scouted around.. found 17 empty Hot Damn bottles in back'a the sleigh."  The always proper Edwin Elf noted, "Theo, up here at The Pole, we refer to that as Cinnamon Schnapps.".... "Whatever" Theo shot back, "you seen it, I seen it, his red cheeks ain't totally caused by the frigid temps here."

Robert Elf, the organizer, planner for the duties of most, suggested "Me thinks we need to get him in for a checkup with Doc Bowl Elf.. I'll set it up."  (They called him "Robert's Rule of Order.", and he was good.)  Ralph Elf,  a real wiseacre who also had an affinity for Schnapps, has no governor on his mouth, (they refer to him as Ralph Mouth Elf) yelled "He needs to wear a diaper, he's getting incontinence, and when he walks, he favors his right side, I do think he needs a hip replacement... I don't think he's even got what it takes to get it up any longer." Edwin, (proper Elf if you recall) countered with "Ralph, elves will get the wrong idea, you mean 'get his sleigh up' "...  "Hadn't thoughta the other, but, by golly, prolly that too" Mouth said.

The report came back from Doc Bowl Elf, and it tweren't pretty.  "Mandating, three days of bed rest...underwear shields.. Gaviscon.. Disulfiram (makes one ill after drinking alcohol).. and then, referring to Orty Elf (Orthopedic Surgeon) for a hip X-Ray his first day out."  Arthur Elf, who excels in Arithmetic, used up all three fingers and a thumb to announce "Holy crap, the.. 23rd, 24th, 25th, X-Ray on the 26th... we're sunk!"

An emergency meeting was called for that evening at The Benevolent and Protective Order of The Elfs. "Here ye, here ye" Flip Elf announced, "here comes the judge."  Ito Elf, robed, approached the bench, looked out over the crowd of huddled, nervous Elves, then uttered "Now what?"

There was a lotta hollerin... "Let Edwin take his place!  He'll do it properly!"..  "No, I think Rudolph would be the best replacement to guide our sleigh, us, route."...."No, WAIT!, What about Mrs. Claus?" "ARE YOU CRAZY" Ralph shot out. Bout that time Barney Elf fetched his one roll of duct tape, took care of Ralph's mouth."

"Ya know," Ito thought aloud, "that might work!"  there wasn't no detectin' who wasa hollerin but crazy, discriminatory stuff leaked out like crazy.. "her place is the kitchen"... "Women can't hit a lick like us men can"...  "it's clear, she just won't have the physical strength"... "heck, she'd probably stop to shop in Milan, all them duds they got there, then be late for all the kids in the Western Hemisphere."

Ito pounded his gavel.. "ORDER.. ORDER... ORDER...." took a deep breath, then continued in a calming voice.. "Edwin was a nice suggestion, but, at 3'2" tall, he couldn't even see over Dasher's hiney... Rudolph, yes, may have the brightest bulb, but, have you seen his test scores?  That bulb, doesn't shine the brightest of all the reindeer.  Mrs Claus, yes, is a VERY good cook, but you male elves need to wake up, stop discriminating.  Have you peeked at Society in the last one hundred years?"

The elves were now all seated in their tiny elf chairs.  Ito went on, "Women have always been remarkable.  Sadly, our society is slow to latch onto, believe, promote, take orders from, admire from afar, up close - women. There are women leaders all about the World.  Look down there at the US. Remember one ran for President? And.. their current VP?.. You think Mrs. Claus would get lost?  The last time you used GPS, recall if it was a male or female voice that guided you?  Uh huh, what I thought. I haven't even mentioned Alexa. DONE, (as he pounded his gavel again).. Mrs. Claus it is.. Robert, go give her the word, help her with anything she needs "

As they filed outta the Elf Hall.. there was still division among the elves.. Mo Elf spouted out "I move here from Cape Girardo... ah..  Cape Girardio.. ahm, a town in SE Missouri, the Show Me State, and she's gonna have to SHOW ME what she can do."  Proper Edwin wasn't nearby so many shouted "Hell yea!"

Higgin's elf (a professor of meteorology) was assigned to Eliza Elf, in hopes of working with Mrs. Claus on the specifics of World Weather.. she'd repeat same after he taught her.. that "the rain in Spain stays mainly on the Plain.. in Hartford, Herford, and Hampshire hurricanes rarely happen." so perfect a repetition of Higgin's word did Eliza do, Rex Elf turned to George elf, offered "By George, I think she's got it."

Knock, knock knock.  Mrs. Claus came to the front door to see Robert standing there.  He was outta breathe, scared, but, as the assigned messenger, he announced "Won't you take Santa's sleigh Christmas Eve night?"  She was a bit taken back.. gathered herself.. with extreme confidence, announced "But of course! I can do it!"

Doubting Thomas Elf had follered Edwin to the Claus residence... He wasn't havin' it.  He challenged Mrs. Claus... HE wanted to guide the sleigh.. 

Anything you can do I can do better... I can do anything better than you........ No you can't.. Yes I can.. No, you can't..   i can be greater sooner or later..  I'm greater than you.. No you're not.. Yes I am! No, you're not!  YES, YES I AM!  No, you're not.. Yes I am, Yes I am!  About that time, Ito elf and Mike elf rode up with Barney's Elf in his cop car..  "Thomas, scram.  I'm very sorry for his behavior ma'am. That ain't the elf consensus. We, all of us, Barney, Mike, all, know, 'you got this.'

The next couple of days, things, mostly, returned to normal. The elves pounded away, sorted, stepped on a few Legos..  awaited a late China container filled with Temu crap, er, toys... had to deal with the recall on halfa the FedEx trucks.. Barney arrested 26 porch pirate elves... but it was looking up. Old McDonald Elf fed, watered, brushed the reindeer..  Pierre and Norman Elves made sure the helium containers were filled.. 

Time to go!  Mrs. Claus stepped up on the sleigh..  Brimming with confidence, she blurted out "Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen, On Comet, on Cupid, on Donner and Blitzen, to the Top of the porch, to the top of the wall, now dash away, dash away, we'll show them all!"

It was amazing. In a heartbeat, they made it to the Pacific Islands of Kiriboti and Samoa..onto Asia, Europe, Africa... tweren't a chimney she didn't fit thru.. she was more than halfway thru in a flash.. sure, she bit on a few cookies, swallered some milk..  but too..  she filled all the stockings (darned 3,452 of 'em).. got, placed the presents outta her bag.. under the trees.. even had time to kinda straighten up the disgusting living rooms of 893 single father pads.. 

Thomas and Gomer Elf had traveled down to NORAD...  there were ready to track, see her fail, hustle back to The Pole and yell with glee "I TOLD YOU SO!"

But nope. Not gonna happen.  Even the scientists at NORAD had trouble keeping up with Mrs. Claus.. "Well I'll be" exclaimed Thomas... "GOOLLLLLLLYYY" added Gomer Elf.

The Americas... every corner of the world.. she didn't stop to shop in Milan.. wore her raincoat in the Plains of Spain... she had a tad bit of help from Karen Jaobsen (the GPS lady), Nina Rolle (Alexa)..women are smart. Very. Comprende' it takes a village.

The reindeer.. sleigh.. Mrs. Claus rolled into The Pole, four hours and 23 minutes ahead of Santa's previous record pace.

"If you want something said, ask a man. If you want something done, ask a woman." Margaret Thatcher.

"Whatever women do, they must do twice as well as men to be thought of as half as good. Luckily, this is not difficult."  Charlotte Whitton

I can do anything better than you... oh yes I can!

In spite of her tippy toeing, Santa awakened as she opened the covers, hopped in next to him. "Where ya been?" he asked.  "Oh, the reindeer and I just took a little spin."

In spite of the hour, Maurice Elf could be heard singing "Thank heaven for little girls. Thank heaven for them all, no matter where, no matter who. Without them, what would little boys do?"

Not much.

Love, Victurd

(Thomas elf was heard grumbling in his sleep.. Victurd, don't think you're ever off the hook for being called a misogynist into the future."  Bite me DT.)

The time to hesitate is through.......

Someone's knocking at ma' door.. somebody ringin' the bell...

Katy bar the door.  When one door shuts, another one opens.  Get your foot in the door.

I find, no one ever knocks on my door when I'm fully clothed. "Just a minute!"  You?  I truly ain't no exhibitionist, I just like comfy.

"Your barn door is open" <-- my favorite text to send to a friend across the room that doesn't know I'm there.

The door at the gym.  I find, the hardest part is simply getting there.  You?

That "The time to hesitate is through"... band camp.  I was 9 maybe. Our old house, of course, had the big ole heavy door with the key/deadbolt lock thingy - but, the door to get to that was wooden, with six window panes... so... back when life was friendly, safe, "where everybody knows your name", Jesse James was long gone from the territory, we mostly left it 'unhooked' even.  During mid-all-critical whiffle ball game, I hadta pee (yes, it started way back then.) So, I ran in to pee. In the meantime, I guess someone 'hooked' the door.  With Lou Brock like speed (ok, maybe Moose Skowron, you're right) I RAN to get back out to game, extended my right arm in Gale Sayers fashion to stiff arm the door open, get back out there, finish THE all important 900th whiffle ball game of the summer.. and as my arm hit a glass pane to open, uh oh, it was hooked, my arm pushed thru the glass (anudder uh oh), a trip to Doc Bowles followed.. a lifetime of a scar in the inside of my elbow - I've come to love it as a reminder to that house, my family, that day and age, my love for neighbors, 'game', much.

Are you like me? (GOSH I hope not!)  Maybe better said, are you like me IN THAT you enjoy driving around, seeing places you USED to live... and would give anything to go back thru that door again?  Our memories allow us too.

Doors.  All kinds of feel.  First day of school, gulp.  School's out! Yeah!  Lines. Lines to get in the door to vote.  See a concert. Pay those disgusting taxes, grab the dreaded "you are number 67" tab from the DMV.

Holding the door open.  I have noticed, the older I get, the nicer folks are in wait to hold doors open. It's a good feel, both ways. Speakinowhich.. when you're going into a retail quickshop joint, and walk to door, know someone is on your heels, do you think about "But, if I hold the door for them then they'll be in line before me"?  SHAME ON YOU.  I know, I do it too.

Remember mid-Covid?  Walking up to a door..  Eww... I remember using my elbow, a paper towel from the bathroom, my Jan Stenerud-like foot, anything other than my pinkies, to open.

Band camp, edition 2. We had some relatives from up North, nice enough people, but, there was neva' ever any kinda warning they were coming - and that's ok, relatives welcome any time, just different.  Once, I was at my folks house, four year old son with me. Relatives came, visited. Were leaving, but, as they walked out the door, stopped for an extended time to say their goodbyes as they held the outer door open.  As this time wore on, 4 year old had heard enough, came, pushed the key/deadbolt lock door shut and as he did, said "This is boring."  He actually, was kinda right, but, a tad embarrassing send off to our unannounced guests!

Leave politics at the door.  Mick wanted the red door black. 

Elevator door, aka, Bandcamp 3. Three, lifelong friend couples en route from hotel room down to swimming pool. Each, drink in hand.  Biggest, probably jolliest man, right up front in 'first out the door' position. Wife of 40+ years, sensed the elevator slowing down to stop on a floor that tweren't quite to the floor of the swimming pool. "Honey (she said to jolly fellow who was holding his drink) can you hold my drink for a sec?" Of course he obliged.  Just then, the elevator stopped, the door started to open and as it did she simultaneously yanked his swim trunks down to his ankles.  Oops.  Or, mebbe that should be spelled OOps. A lifelong funny ha ha moment for the six.  Well, 5 of the 6 mebbe.

Bouncer at the door. (When's the last time you were ID'ed? I know, I've forgotten too). Salvation Army Bellringer at the door.  Girl Scout cookies at the door! Yum!

All kindsa at the door moments.  Kid with a snow shovel, or a push mower. Heck to the yes my friend!  Jehovah's.. Eh, I know, but, I get uncomfy. Police. Oh hell.  Whew, wrong apartment. Old friend. Young friend. Cousin, Aunt, Uncle, Kids, Grandkids.. all, yummy doorknockers.

Golfer at course, bandcamp 4,  I think. He'd locked his car doors prior to playing.  Then, threw his keys in his golf bag. Once finished, tossed his bag in the trunk, closed it.  Uh oh.    Bandcamp 5, Mickey D's, on a Sunday. I'd locked mine in the car. Crapola, I figured minimum $150 on a Sunday.  Called lock dude. "Be right there."  One'a those skinny tool thingies, open in a flash. "Forty bucks sir." Thank goodness.

Open door policy.  Closed door. Revolving door. Show someone the door...    Locked doors in your youth?  Were your doors at home locked at night? All day? Now? Car doors?  As a lifelong lover of levity from Liberty, I never locked my car doors.  A few years back, someone very clearly had gone thru my car, glovebox opened, I really had nothing of value for 'em to grab, a little changeholder with maybe $1.23 in it was gone, but, the worst hurt was, "this is how it is now, even here."

To tell the truth. Ya ever had someone knock on your door, and either ya weren't fond of 'em, or, mebbe not in the mood to visit, didn't know 'em, something... and you didn't move an inch?  I do admit, I have done that.

"Don't let people disrespect you. My mom says don't open the door to the devil. Surround yourself with postive people."  Cuba Gooding Jr.

Door mats.  Welcome.  Welcome-ish, depends on who you are and how long you stay. Live laugh leave.  Doorbell broken, yell "DING DONG" really loud.  Cute shoes, take them off.  Unless you have Tacos Tequila Girl Scout Cookies or My Amazon package go away.  Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit, look who's here. (Picture of frog sitting in a rocking chair holding gun.. Hippity Hoppity Get Off My Property.) Ew, people.

Bandamp 97, I think it is. Had an uncle. Like all uncles, corny, fun.  Each and every new baby to the family, he would fetch it up in his arms, walk thru an interior doorway and purposely leave his elbow out for the LOUDEST thud sound you ever heard, much to the shock, dismay of new mommies and daddies.  About the 3rd or 4th newborn, we were wise to him.

"Ten men waiting at my door.  Send one of them home, I'm tired." Mae West

Bandcamp 98. (Old) KCI airport.  Doors were all glass.. as you approached, automated.  Deer. There were deer in the area. Once or twice a year, one would somehow make it to the door..  See it's reflection, wanna visit "the other deer" so, entre'vu they did.  Wooden floors.  Traveling people. Scared deer, CLIP CLOP CLIP CLOP, 'twas quite exiting.

How do you drown a blonde on a submarine?  Knock on the door.

Doors are hello's, goodbye's, opportunities, loss. Meeting new people, developing lifelong friends. Gatherings. Thanksgivings. Christmas's. Family.  Good friends. Exciting. Scary. Happy. Sad.

A man hires a blonde to paint his porch. He tells her that the brushes, paint, and ladders are in the garage. About 30 minutes later he hears a knock and answers the door. The blonde lets him know that she's finished. "Wow" he says, "that was quick. Did you have enough paint?""Yup, enough for 2 coats!" she replies.The man thanks and pays her. As she's leaving she turns around and says "By the way, it's not a Porsche. It's a Ferrari."

As you walk in, out of doors this Christmas, good tidings and happiness to you.

Who let the dogs out (who, who, who, who)

PS, I don't hate blondes. I grew up madly in love with Elizabeth Montgomery, Elizabeth Shue, Christina Applegate, Goldie, Meg, Farrah, Reese, Faye, Kim, etc, etc, etc.

Love, Victurd

Order in the Court 'cause here comes the Judge.......

Your day.......  How does it start?  First thing?  What's the order?

Is it.........  Fido's cold nose on your cheek? "Take me outside NOW or I'll be forced to squat (or lift leg) on the living room carpet."

Or mebbe.........  Kitty's kneading claws repetitively pressing up, down, up, down on your chest, the claws finally digging thru your PJ's for an "ouch."  They don't needta run out to pee... they have their own ORI right there in the laundry room.  They don't need fed, 'cause you got enough food in their bowl for them until NYE..  They just want you up... because they're up.  Their sense of order.  Cats are like that, yeah they are.

Tiptoe. I'm guessing that's how some'a ya get up... not wanting to wakeup your mate.. or kids.. or grandkids.. First order....... ssssshhhhhhh...........

Me?  Of course it's my bladder. Ugly-thirty, I MUST PEE. Run don't walk.

Then, what's next?  Food?  COFFEE?  Tea?  Or mebbe partner says "Me!"

I have friends..  good friends.. (I know, hard to believe eh?)... Anyways, order IS their life. Same, same, same, same ole, daily.  You can set your watch to their carrying on, events, do this, then that... and of course next will be... Day... after day... after day...  Same  bat channel... the next day.

I envy them above.  I am, admittedly, a horrible planner. My boss referred to me as "Mr. Sticky Note" because I had mebbe thirty of 'em affixed around my computer edge, on the desk next to my mouse, on the left by my coffee cup..reminders..  my planners...  Until I finally caught up with a 'reminder app' recently, I had sticky notes on my billfold.  Uh huh, sadly true. "Dr appt Tues 9a", "Tee time Wed 10am", etc. I am a chocolate mess, and yes, my school notebook proudly 'leaked out' the most dogeared pages, subject after subject. I HATE (but oh so desire) organization.

The newspaper. Where's it sit in order of importance?  Is it there at all? My order, pee, make coffee.. check Facebook for "Did I really post that last night?" (Followed by either "whew" or "oh s*it."}  Then, since it's by now Ugly-forty-five, way too dadgum early for the real newspaper to hit the sidewalk, I must do the E paper thingy.

Life IS all about order... or, lack thereof. My brain, your brain, your partner, my lackapartner. Your (one? two? three?) hounds?... Fat cats?  Or, are you a "roll back over" until a sensible time, or, heaven forbid, the dreaded alarm clock?

Good sense, innocence, cripplin' mankind, dead kings, many things I can't define...  Occasions, persuasions clutter my mind... Incense and peppermints, the color of time (ie, sense of order.)

So.  (A needle pulling thread.)  So, (if) ya look at the newspaper? What order?  Politics? (Achhooooo, nomme).. Business?  Local junk?  Horoscope (so you can figure out what kinda day/mood you're gonna have?)..  Health.. Opinion?  Keep life light, Cartoons first? NY Times crossword puzzle? (If so, I hate you, jk, kinda.  I ain't smart, no can do.  The Universal one, mebbe 75% finish it.. sometimes I cheat, look up a clue I can't figure out.) Is cheating in your order of life?

Sports. I go to Sports.  Uh huh. Simpleton.  It (Sport) has loomed large in my life. Played em all, accomplished at none.  Coached most, eh, was so so.  PE major (Boy I picked a moneymaker degree eh?)

Order in the Sport 'cause here comes the pages.  Like 85 articles of 'em this morning I think. I DO enjoy the online sports of the KC Star, because the hardcopy paper that will soon hear the carrier toss on the sidewalk, well... the Sports in it (the hardcopy) are news from like, November or something. I think they're just getting to Kadarius's One Toe Over The Line for Sweet behoogity sakes.

Their (E) order...  NFL (most popular sport, thus, generally pages 1, 2, 3.  Royals.  KU. KU.  KU. KU. (Cough, spit, cough, enough already.) Local sports. Gametimes, schedules. Betting lines. Other NFL teams. Baseball Ray, other teams, hella yen being spent in LA. S'more KU KU KU KU. (Honey?  Have you seen the Pepto-Bismol?  Victor?  Yeah?  You're not married. Oh yeah, I'll go look for it myself then.)

Then, Basketball Jones, College, then NBA.  Golf. LPGA, finally, the misogynists have an article on Women's Sports. Then, Tennis. Hockey. Nascar. Finally, Soccer. (Sorry Pup, it was last today.) Apologies to WWF or whatever you're called nowadays, crickets.

I read every inch, which is fancy for, usually 'headline only'. Click, next. Click, next. Events of the day?  Exuberant areya?  Meh? Somewhere in the middle?

Life. What's your order?   Religion?  Work? Money money money, in the rich man's world. Ahm, stealing from Bob Dylan... it ain't me babe. Wi$h it was, taint. 

Work? Friends? Hobbies? Leisure goodies? Victor, you left out family and health.  Oh yeah, sorry, did.  Not on purpose.

Are you amphibious? Victor? Yeah? Land and, or water?  Oh, sorry. I meant ambidextrous. Two things at once? One eye on the paper, the other on the Weatherman so you'll know how to dress? Butter the toast whilst the skillet scrambles your eggs. Threebidextrous? Toast, eggs, bacon?

I gotta buddy.. FIRST THING... EVERY day. Goes online to look at his bank account. That, ahm, to me, sounds depressing, eh.  I asked him, "How come?"  I wanna make sure my account hasn't been hacked, that I'm not getting some charge/fee, subscription cost I forgot to cancel, yada.  I thought that was kinda goofy, different, but, eh, ok. Then, one day I decided to do it. I found two charges for things I'd forgotten to cancel. Scroll to dogeared notebook, not smart, etc.  Scroll to a previous blog, Oh Well,

"A cannibal is a person who walks into restaurant and orders a waiter." Morey Amsterdam

"Action expresses priorities." Mahatma Gandhi

"Good things happen when you get your priorities (order) straight." Scott Caan.

Order in the Court 'cause here comes the judge.

We are human.  We all have our order, and priorities therein. God. Mates. Family. Friends. Work. Money, I guess. Pets, much. Sports. Gardening. Sewing. Books. Travel. Cooking. We rank 'em, mebbe subconsciously. Like Mahatma said, those actions express our priorities. 

I see two big holes to alla the above.  Self and Love.  We can love ALL of the above, or mebbe at least most.  Self Love is critical to life.  I hope you love yourself.

I do (love you.. and I guess me too, try as I might upon occasion!!)

Love, Victurd

Well................ You know you make me want to SHOUT.........

Music......

Feel of it.....

All we need is a drummer.. 

For people who only need a beat... yeah

I'm gonna add a little guitar

To make it easy to move your feet.......

Bounce.... kids..  toddlers... high schoolers.. old farts..... Music is our National Anthem........

Jose can you see? Or something like that.

Them there women.. some are as addicted to dance as a moonshiner is to moonshine.....

A little bit of Monica in my life, a little bit of Erica by my side
A little bit of Rita is all I need, a little bit of Tina is what I see
A little bit of Sandra in the sun, a little bit of Mary all night long
A little bit of Jessica here I am
A little bit of you makes me your man

Music is better'n a band aid..  mercurochrome... urgent care...  the ER..  

Doc, it's feels good when I do this............ Well, then do that.

Ya ever been in an argument when the music is cranked?...

Mid slow dance?

Twirlin' her around?

During a sax solo?

How bout when you's sittin' by each other in lawnchairs during the Fall Festival Blue's concert at the County Ampitheater? 

I was at a bar.  Imagine that.  It was a midweek night.  Not much happenin.  Sky of grey, Winter eyeballin us. Regular ole regular day. Pretty quiet. Then, quiet dude to my right gets his phone out... "Barkeep can you turn the juke up a tad?"  You gettin' ready to play?  "Yeah."  And he did.  (Who'da thunk fitty years ago you could dial up songs on the juke box from the tele in your pocket?)  Anyways.. Moustache Dave, as he's known, starts boppin' sideways.  Then front and back. An elixer. A feel good. 'Dancing' to the music, from his barstool.  The sky thru the winder' suddenly tweren't as grey, Winter was locked out from inside.. Other 'quiets' started a toe tappin.  Uplift.  Much.

Feel of it.

Hi everybody.  I'm Archie Bell of the Drells, from Houston, Texas.. We don't only sing, but we dance just as good as we walk.

Yesterday, I saw a post on Facebook about a string of lights Christmas decoration.  It was done by hospital nurses on their big long desk as you walk in. The string was done in "EKG or Heartbeat Monitor Fashion."  Up down Up down Up down Up down.  Clever. At least I thought so.

This blog.  Check Engine Light. S happens. Up happens. Down happens.  Good happens. Bad happens. After I sloshed my way through a mostly 'down' blog yesterday, I needed me some "You know you make me want to shout" dance, feel good, feel of it.. bounce to the right.. bounce to the left.  A little bit of Monica..  I wanted to dance just as good as I walk (but if you've seen me in the last three-four years, that ain't very good! Oh well!)  Point being though, lift, needed a lift.

Car jack.  Escalator.  Aeroplane.  Elevator.  Red Bull.  Alka Seltzer. Howl at the moon.  Backflip. JK, I've never done a backflip, least on purpose. Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo...

I sat my fat booty at the laptop, made sure the sound was at a level it could reverberate right on through my body...... and I borrorwed my friend Google, "Songs that make you want to get up and dance."

Stayin' alive.  R-E-S-P-E-C-T.  My Girl.  Twist and Shout. I Will Survive. YMCA. Get Ready.  Victor?  Yeah? Them are all old. Uh huh.  Me too.

Life is, can be, hard.  Music is "it ain't that bad... feel of it?"

You've seen 'em.  Ya go to a joint.  A music venue, be it a small place.. an outdoor kinda place.. an enclosed mebbe a tad larger venue, could even be an auditorium.  Them women.  Monica. Erica. Rita. Tina. Sandra. Mary. Jessia or the like. The 360 gal at Knuckleheads who dances 360's and somehow never falls down. They, whilst we fatties sit in our mostly comfy chair, jump up, go, tween the crowd and the band.. and jive.. dance....feel.

"Work like you don't need the money. Love like you've never been hurt. Dance like nobody's watching."  Satchel Paige....    HEY?, he's from KC ain't he?  Uh huh.  Usedta make that curveball dance.. then, he'd go to 18th and Vine and get his a cleats a dancin'.

Google gets all scientific in it's descriptor "Dancing is a great way to overcome these negative feelings because the exercise and emotional responses we're hearing can increase the release of dopamine in different parts of the brain. As dopamine levels go up, we can shake off some of those negative feelings and float into a euphoric state."

Uh huh.  Feel of it.  Dance to the music. You know you make me want to SHOUT, kick me heels up and SHOUT, throw my hands up and SHOUT, throw my head back and SHOUT, come on now, SHOUT.. 

Don't forget to say you will...  Don't forget to say yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.. Say you will..  Say it right now baby, Say you will.. Come on, come on.. Say ou will.. Say that you will

Seen it.  Seen what music, dance, rockin' does to folks.  From that day when ya lay the fairly newborn down on the blanket (Remember the good ole days when you could do that and they wouldn't go nowhere? Heck, you could brown and drain the grease from a pounda ground beef and you just knew, yep, still on the blanket).. play some music... their body starts gyratin'. In a good way...

All the way through..... preschool music shows..  dancin' in the dodgeball circle..sockhops..  promvites..  Jaycee dances.. Mom/son, Father/daughter wedding kinda things.. Dancing in your home, your chair, your favorite music establishment.........all through your life...... even......

Even some years back. Christmas Caroling at nursing homes.  Yum.  You might think 'sad' (nursing homes).. and in some respects that's correct.  But too.. extremes.  There was the lady on the edge'a her wheelchair singin' right up next to us, just as loud as us....  then there was the one across the room. Appeared to maybe be catatonic.  Then, on the second verse of Silent Night.. with her eyes closed.. he lips moved.. you could see 'em.. read 'em.. "Holy Night"... it was her form of dance. Her lips danced. Remembered.  A pick me upper.  A reminder.  A lifetime of dance. Now I've... had..  the time of my life..

I really can't think of anything negative to say about dance.

Dance with the one that broughtya.  Or not.  Or Monica, Eria, Rita, 360. Or, by your lonesome. Or, even in your chair, like Moustache Dave.

If you're like me, you've watched the video below more times than ya got dancin' toes.  Never gets old, to me anyways.  Need a quick feel good, feel of it. Click it.  Oh happy day.

Le Noël inoubliable de Bouygues Telecom | 2018 | Artbox Production House (youtube.com)

Love, Victurd

Sixteen tons and whaddaya get...

Christmas time is the ultimate in elation, sometimes wrapped, at least partially, with a blanket of depression.

At least I have found that to be true.  I wish 'funny ha ha' was punching these keys this morning, but I just ain't feeling it in this specific moment.

When Tennessee Ernie Ford sat down with the powers to be prior to recording this song.. they asked him "what kinda beat would you like with it?"..  Ernie then started snapping his fingers to the desired beat. They got it, and they added "No, leave that (the finger snapping) in.  Did.

The song is mostly sad, the grueling life of a coal miner..  The control of (some) companies back in the day.. The workers were paid in redemption cards where they could get ware, food, goods, yada, at the company store...ie, no way outta debt, no way to save money. "St Peter don't you call because I can't go, I owe my soul to the company store." Thankfully, much has changed since the 1940's for workers and their rights.

Snap.  Finger snap. And again. Melodic. Catchy.  

Ginger snap. (That's me, and any fellow redhead, snapping our fingers.)

Cold snap. We are two days away from the first day of Winter.  Wouldn't it be lovely to snap one's fingers and get the heck outta Dodge to warmer clime?  I know, there are those who actually enjoy the cold.  Just my opine, be for real Elsa.... Stormy... Tiffany..  We're frozen here.  Let it be. Let it be, for you, not us.

Snap out of it. To stop experiencing something unpleasant or, stop behaving in a negative way. We are, oft times, our own worst enemy.  TMI for sure, but this has, sadly, been my worst year as a grandfather. I will certainly take a good chunk of the blame, coupled with absence, rearranged families, geography and maybe a pinch of spite thrown in. Life teaches you can't snap your fingers and get back to 'what was', but one can surely wake our damn selves up, ie, snap out of it (and I talk to me in there too).  Christmas accentuates that, change. I am lucky, we  are all still on the planet, we must snap to good, adaptation to today, and tomorrow.

Some, this year, aren't so lucky. You awaken one day, another doesn't. Snap, life is different, forever.  I feel for you if this is your first year of going through loss (or whatever # year it is, I'm sorry). Loss serves as an ugly reminder we simply need to be kind. Quiet often means woe. I promise I ain't preaching, but, doesn't, or shouldn't, that make us wanna hug, smile, ask "How are you doing" then listen, really listen? The ham, the potatoes, dessert, will still get passed, but those empty chairs do glare. Some, don't wanna be there, so, we, needta be there for them.

Snap someone's head off.  Of course not literally, but, with oration.  Sometimes it changes things forever. We've all probably been on both sides of the fence.  Try as we might, it's often difficult to snap one's fingers and fill the pothole of ugly. We can only hope the Holiday season will afford forgiveness, if possible, no matter which side of the fence we reside.  Life's too short. Too damn short for it all. Hurt may reside inside forever, but hugs, smiles, "I'm sorry, no excuse" can help mend. Why? I say, why not?

All that, then, add the trials tribulation of regular ole regular life to it..  affliction, addiction, slips, falls, hip, knee replacements, Covid, mental health issues, cancer... all, the more reason to hop (snap) to the below:

Snap. Each, every, Christmas reminder - let's snap to happy. Oh come oh ye faithful. The lights about town. That little one checking, wonderfully curious about, the package with their name on it under the tree. Turn the tree on. Bake some yummy smelling goodies.  Happy texts. Hugs, smiles, touches. The L word looms large too.

We cannot snap to once was, but, we can assuredly smile that the good has happened, and allow that to light the path to today, tomorrow.

And if... if this doesn't speak to you, hit home, maybe hard to relate to it, thank goodness for you, and keep on keepin' on.. 

Life is, like those things under the tree.  A gift. May we all remember, so are those on either side of us.

Merry Christmas... if we make it that, allow it to be that. Snap to the plan for it. Perfection and human just ain't congruent. We can though, snap to be the best we can.

Love, Victurd