Flattened squirrel......

Did you ever have to make up your mind?
You pick up on one and leave the other behind
It's not often easy and not often kind
Did you ever have to make up your mind?

Decide. Pick.  Opt.  Wanna go out to eat tonight honey?  If you do.  Where do you wanna go?  I don't care, what sounds good to you?

Did you ever have to finally decide?
And say yes to one and let the other one ride
There's so many changes and tears you must hide
Did you ever have to finally decide?

I, am not going any dayum where.  I'm gonna stay home from now until November whenever that election is.....  I'm gonna study, study, study, the election ads on TV...  yeah baby, a smorgasbord of fingernails on the chalkboard....  here, this shot will help numb your gum, it'll make things a lot smoother for your root canal.. 

Sometimes there's one with deep blue eyes, cute as a bunny
With hair down to here and plenty of money
And just when you think she's that one in the world
Your heart gets stolen by some mousy little girl

Oh crap, sorry.. they're talking about dating, deciding which, that. Eh, I think I'm past that, maybe, probably, eh, I dunno.  WAIT.  Did you mention plenty of money?  JUST KIDDING.

And then you know you better make up your mind
And pick up on one and leave the other behind
It's not often easy and not often kind
Did you ever have to make up your mind?

I started this stupid blog........ envisioning each and every one of you.  (Victor, there are usually only two that read this.)  Yeah, them.  From every walk of life... Yeah, mostly old farts..  Many different situations..  locations...   got pets.. don't got pets..  INTERESTS..  many different interests.  I actually love that about life.  Quilts.  My ex girlfriend who would go to Piggly Wiggly, straight to the coffee bean section.. they had 20 levers/kinds/roasts..  ya pull to get a little bitta ground coffee... she'd grab a bag and take a little bit of each.

Red and yellow and pink and green, purple and orange and blue.. I can sing a rainbow.  Victor, get back in the shower - we don't wanna hear it.  OK, yes.  We're different on music. Thank goodness for all them differen't whatever ya call 'ems (Spotify, Pandora, SiriusXM, that)..  You here, me there, we allover, we different. We decide.  That's the way, uh huh uh huh, I/you, like it.

Sometimes you really dig a girl the moment you kiss her
And then you get distracted by her older sister
When in walks her father and takes you in line
And says, "Better go home, son, and make up your mind"

Ruh roh..  That young man is in trouble.  I think the wise decision might be to seek a chicky at another address.CHICKY? MISOGYNIST!  AM NOT!

Then you bet you'd better finally decide
And say yes to one and let the other one ride
There's so many changes and tears you must hide
Did you ever have to finally decide?

Almost everything is different. Some don't get no snow.  Some slalom.  Some gotta lakehouse..  Nah, no thanks, we're ten minutes from the Beach.  I'm:  married, divorced, separated, a widow...  Live:  alone... with my honey.. raising my grand... have one kid back at home...  Differn't...

I sit in this chair, and daily, I wonder.  I wonder about you.  Yeah you.  What you like. Where you live.  How your health is.  How your, I dunno, mental comfort is.  Are you an out-and-about with BFF's from forever and a day ago........or, gimme a dayum book, turn off the TV, it's ok, jump up here kitty.  No cats for me, I'm a dog person.  I travel too much, gone from home too much, shouldn't/don't have one.  I, over here, don't want one. Or, do you (still) hold hands, snuggle up, bingewatch something?

The common denominator....... is, there ain't one.  Mebbe your check engine light came on and that's how you arrived here.  Maybe we usedta know each other when we could still run, jump, play catch, stay up until midnight.. that stuff.  Maybe we don't really know each other, never met, that's intriguing too.

I think, mebbe, we're all simply looking for happy.  Life should be that.  It's a steeplechase, and most of us are too dayum tired to run, jump, dip our toes in that puddle and still be able to stand up. Too tired to race. How can yer have any pudding if yer don't jump yer puddle?  Screw that, pass the apple pie.

Gimme peace.  Or quiet.  Or loud, if that's your kinda perk.  I actually kinda do like cranking the music when I'm stopped at an intersection. No, not brave enough for the windows to be down. But, I kinda like/hope I draw that attention "Look at that dayum geezer over there!"  I equate, when the music is loud - to happy.  I like happy, I decided, and I think it rubs off.

Oft times, I fill up the loose leaf notebook of life by doing the same damn thing every day.  Mosta the time, that works, truly, it does - at least for me.  I love that my brain turns to you - and, wish I could be a drone so I could follow you around, see your life, howya live, what ya like...  Do ya like good music?  Yeah yeah. That sweet soul music.  Actually, I like Bach.  New Country.  Nah, Patsy, Hank and Merle for me.  The Stones.  AC/DC.  I like the lights dimmed, no noise whatsoever.

There is too much ugly in our World, lives, that we can't take a rag and wipe it like a dry erase board.

Near as I can tell, we're all different in our likes, loves, situations, climates, houses, this, that, whatever, wherever...

We all seemingly just want a happy ride out... be that via horseback, pontoon boat, 2002 Buick Century, Uber, bike, F150, electric bike, Vespa, Harley, yada.

LOOK OUT!!!!!! SQUIRREL!!!!!!! Kerplunk kerplunk.  Just kiddin, it's a blog.

I hope you opt for smiley today. I'm gonna try.

Forward by Rocket J. Squirrel

Edited by Raymond J. Johnson, of "NOOO!!! You don't have to call me Johnson! My name is Raymond J. Johnson Jr. Now you can call me Ray, or you can call me J, or you can call me Johnny, or you can call me Sonny, or you can call me Junie, or you can call me Junior; now you can call me Ray J, or you can call me RJ, or you can call me RJJ, or you can call me RJJ Jr. . . but you doesn't hasta call me Johnson!" - fame

Love, Victurd

Well.......... whaddaya know.........

I know nothing.  (Sgt Victurd Schultze)

Routine routine.  Awaken (5 times, peek at clock, nope, not yet).. Awaken.. ok, permissible, you've had 6 hours.  Nap later mebbe. 

Pee.  Make coffee.  Fireup TV to same ole same ole news channel.  (I know, I know. Neither starts with a C or an F. Honest, I TRY to think for myself.).. Wordle.  Drink coffee. Text Wordle battle w/youngest niece.  Sport's page.  Sudoku.  General news in paper (I kinda read that crap like an osprey's quick dive to eat... or.. a Piper Cub practicing 'touch and go's'.)

Interesting (to me anyways) article on a 43 year old author, poet, college instructor who happens to be a Black Muslim lady.  This is where, I, the jobhopping, cantquitsmokiing, failedrelationshipafterfailedrelationship dude tells you, I know nothing, about longterm employment (although, I did 'do 20 years', read that, however ya wanna at my last job.)

I still got butts, as in cig butts. I know, I know, but I don't.. quit.  I can't be Dear Abby  and tellya how to stay married.  I also admit, I know nothing about being a Black Muslim lady.

I like her style though..  Some'a the stuff (Ok, almost alla the stuff) she said in her interview. Her daddy, when she was in Middle School, advised her "Dare to be different."  Seems she has.  

What are the most important skills you try to pass down to your students as writers? (asked, the KC Star writer)..... "Critical thinking.  The ability to analyze and break down the rhetoric of arguments and see how it was constructed and what works well in the argument and where it is flawed. When a student can slow down and do that, it's important."

I'm up on the tight wire, one side's ice and one is fire, it's a circus game with you and me.... I'm up on the tightrope, one side's hate and one is hope, but the top of my head is all you see.

Victor?  TEA?  CHINA?  THE HELL?  Hey, I'm sorry, I guess.  That Leon song was going thru my head.. I thought it kinda fit for critical thinking, attempting to see, get to, both sides..  Victor, I vote, if you don't know whatinthehell it is you're writing about (like you mentioned continued employment, smoking cessation, relationship 'guru') THEN HUSH. No writey.  Thanks, I think.

Then Star writer asked "What advice would you give to someone aspiring to follow a similar path?" (writer, poet, professor)..    Write what you know about because if you don't it comes off force and inauthentic. I always feel like a writer's voce becomes clearer when you can write from your experience or knowledge. Write from a knowledge bank but also a passion bank that you know to be true, real and integral to you.

I know I'm C+/M+ or thereabouts.  I confess to NOT knowing about onomatopoeia, folding a fitted sheet, AI, women (MISOGYNIST! AM NOT).  I don't understand hatred. I know when I see red-in-the-face mad, veins popping outta the neck... I ain'ts nos doctor, but I no comprende' why some are seemingly one conniption fit away from the ER.

I don't know the price of tea in China but assume it  could be Googled.  I know I have zilcho desire to dig in and critically think "why did that person running for that office just pay boo koo dollars to degrade, accuse, opponent about their past without ever telling of the groundwork of their own plan for the future."

I know nothing about walking a tightrope, but, I wonder if they too (tightrope artists) awaken from dreams where they are falling like I do?  Gotta gitme onea them "Help I've fallen and I can't get up" button thingys.

Baseball Ray.  Sorry, not really, to fans of other teams... after watching last night's Royals game - I know I don't believe I've ever seen a singular performance like what Bobby Witt Jr did last night.  He be the real deal.

Kudos to the teacher lady and her wonderful outlook... artistry..  want to help youth (the right way).. and, for undoubtedly, being a high hurdler of assured prejudice and obstacle in her way.

I know I sit here virtually every morning staring at "a rabbit in a snowstorm" and have no idea what to write about. I know you are EXTREMELY patient with me, and please know I REALLY REALLY REALLY appreciate that.

I know I like happy. Dogs. Cats, yeah, I do.  Smile. Levity.  Golf.  Donuts.  Lasagna.  People watching. Music. Family. Good friends.  Either dadgum end of a compliment. Did I mention happy?

Happy day,

Love, Victurd

It's the New Zoo Review.........

At least, it was new back in the 70's...  Twas "The 196-episode musical comedy-forrmat show conveyed the concepts of cooperation and guidance for living in contemporary society. Each episode dealt with a topic such as moving away, courtesy, bragging, or patience."

Well, this ain't about that. Damnit Victor, I/we hate when you do that. Sorry, kinda. Damnit Victor, I/we hate when you do that too.. Sorry, I guess, but, I doubt it.

Contemporary society - mebbe that 's what this is about.  Bing.  Bing is prolly onea my least favorite search engines, but, it's what came up when I looked for the definition of 'contemporary society', so, we'll run with that:

"Contemporary society refers to the present time period, the current social, political, and cultural landscape in which we live."

Of course - PEOPLE WATCHING.  Next to my, and everyone's favorite thing (pushmowing the backyard ain't it?), people watching is a very close #2.

Band camp.  Kinda.  Sunday Afternoon.. EVERY Sunday afternoon.  Knuckleheads Saloon.  Sure, they sell beer.  But mostly, they sell music. FOUR stages.  A HUGE garage for big ole stars when they come to town.  A tiny, hidden gem for eclectic kinda bands.. a bigger indoor stage/room for when the weather is incliment - AND, the outdoor stage, seating area - my personal favorite.

Victor, you've written 6 paragraphs so far, we finally learn this is about people watching, and you ain't written one GoshDarn thing about a person.  Correct you are grumpy old person, and, HEY, don't take that personal.. if you're here, reading, WE'RE ALL grumpy, old people.

Not Ernie though.  At least on this Sunday.  Victor? Where?  Knuckleheads. What?  FREE, Sunday Blue's Jam.  What's that?  It's where folks from all walks (contemporary society I think they call it) gather... some fetch guitar cases, some, sax, horn, harmonicas, big ole drums...

They gather, sign up on  a white board... head organizer guy calls out "Charlie on bass... Steve on guitar... Mike on the drums.. Ron, guitar too, Ira on the horn."  They come up to the stage, unpack their music 'weapons', plug 'em in... say "Hi, nice to meetya" and in three minutes, they're playing a dadgum cohesive sounding blues song.

Victor? Huh?  You said Ernie, what about Ernie?   Oh yeah.. .So, I'm sitting there watching Charlie, Steve, Mike, Ron, Ira intro, unpack, 'check 1, 2', that stuff. I people watch, note, there ain't one thing in common with 'em all.  Age, hair, dress, size, you name it, except, there love of music.

VICTOR! ERNIE!  Oh yeah, sorry......... so........... I was seated with buddies in the shade. It's hot here in KC.  About 25' ahead of us, tween us and the 'New Zoo Review' band..  was Ernie.  Ernie looked, and dressed, like he just got off work at Smitty's Garage... when straight from stall to dance floor.  Music started.  So did Ernie.  A little foot shuffle. Then he wiggled his butt.  Then he twisted. Then his arms got all in it.  Soon, he was off in his little happy world, you know, the "Go to hell life, I'm happy and their ain't one dadgum thing you can do to stop me.":

Yeah, and what else Victor?  Well... I then pictured Ernie there at the Smitty's Garage, in his familiar Stall #2, head up under the hood of a 2017 Ford Escape....... and all of a sudden Smitty himself brought in a Big Screen.... showed the guys tape of Ernie getting his jig on. LAUGHTER, teasing, prodding, "so unlike you buddy" and........ I ab so lute ly love that. You be you Ernie.  Suck up every millisecond of life. He was. (Never make fun of a mek-a-nick with a pry bar in his grasp.)

Lost. Getting lost in life.

I too, in people watching, get lost in life.

Sure sure sure, we four buddies (usually four, sometimes only two or three) old geezer male piggies do the Jed Clampett "WEEEEEEEEE DOGGIEEEEESSS DID YOU SEE THAT ONE?" when a perty one strolls by... but.. mainly, I/my buddies, are perked by observation of all, and, of course, the music.

It's quite obvious, it's a gathering of Leawood, MidTown, Liberty, Kearney, Archie, etc.  For those of you that wonder 'whointhehell, whatinthehell' those are... it's your upper social economic, urban economic.. adjoining suburb, a suburb, but, with a grass 'moat' around it...... and, a tad country, 'out there' smalltown, no city blocks, just acres, and more acres.

Contemporary society. Parts is parts. 43 motorcycles parked almost agin' one another (I ALWAYS stay at least 6 feet away for fear of falling, then, accidentally pushing the bikes over in domino fashion.. , surrounded by SUV's, Caddy's, BMW's, 2002 Buick Century's, like mine..  All... different..   unique... gathered.  Contemporary parking lot.

Most eyeballs go to the dance floor...  but some too, aimed at the folks around us. Linda Leawood was closest to the dance floor, but, under a big ole eve, thus, in the shade. As the sun made it's way Westward, it shone down on her..  seated behind her (still in the shade), hubby Ian, got up, told Linda to swap chairs with him. He then sat in sweatty sun.  She sunk deeply into the chair behind, ahhhhhhhhhhh shade. She love patted him on the shoulder.  I figure that right there... seeing that... is a hella more important lesson on life than onomatopoeia, State Capitols, long division.

Guy who happened to be black, seeing buddy, happened to be white, probably longtime friend, across the dancefloor, met in the middle, hugged. Trite you call it?  I call it huge. Lovely. Yes. S'more. 

There too is a connection, between how fast one strums a guitar.... how high pitched he/she can get it........ and facial expression. You know those (stupid - my take anyways) filters you see on pictures on FB... these guitar faces make them look normal.  I ain't makin' fun, I'm telling you I love that.  Folks getting lost in life. A full dive off of the high dive of life. Kersplash, kerhellyes.

I am off to the races, sorry, cut short.......or, you're welcome, whichever fits. I got 57 minutes to shower, dress, drive 10 miles, warm up, play golf with fellow old geezers.  We draw straws for teams, that, in and of itself, also a people watching gold mine.  Mebbe one day we'll tippy toe there.

Meantime.  Have a wunnerful day, get lost in life.

Love, Victurd

Mark, set.. go!

No............ that ain't it.

Howabout...........

"ACTION!"  Like, in a play, when the Director says that.

Yeah, that's it....   There ain't no 'standby one'...  no..  'wait a sec (life), let's try that again'....

Yes, Hallmark movies, whilst ever popular, are fairly predictable in how they play out.  Life ain't.

Life is, can be, like a play. Sometimes, unscripted...... like the feller in the play who mebbe has a lapse...  in a scene of Act 1, he might say a line from Act 3...it throws everyone for a loop, heads are scratched, NOW WHAT?.  That's life (Right Frank?)

It should be easy, and, I guess in some ways it is... then again, it ain't.  Loved one, beat cancer twice..... died of a heart attack mowing the yard.  Friend, yes, a tad over 70, fit as a fiddle... met his demise on the treadmill.

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh there is SO much good, elation...... we, the audience, smile, emote, as they, the 'players' have their scenes of Christmas, Kindergarten, training wheels off, the aroma of Granny's apple pie on the stand up heater in the living room.

That first time ever, a LIGHT BULB went off in your head, body, through your veins, WOW, I think I really like her/him.  "Well sure, we all  do."  "NO, you don't get it... I mean.. one day.. I just might wanna get married to him/her."   Ahm, Director?  I keep looking thru this playbook and I can't find nuthin' on that. Now what?

Who needs a playbook, there's Google............. right?

"Write down the beginning, middle, and end of your play, including major story beats and plot points surrounding your main conflict. Separate your plot points into their respective acts, following a pattern of rising action (leading up to the climax) and falling action (leading up to the resolution."

If only life, 'the play', were so easy.   Conflict.........hmmmm... I remember fist fights by the smoke tree across from the high school right after 7th hour...  Breakin' up is hard to do.. keep  the yarn but I'd like my ring back.  Junior, you've been out of school almost a year now.. yain't worked.. ya don't help clean, cook, nuttin.  It's time.  You got to go.  "BUT MOM! (or DAD)..

Act 1,Scene 3. "Welcome to (this specific company) Junior.  Your shift will be (Thursday thru Monday, 11pm to 7am.....   or mebbe, Monday thru Friday, 8-5...   here, you'll work three days, get one off, work two, get another off......... repeat.)...  Have fun, just think, only 45 more years till  retirement.

I NEED A SCRIPT!  Sure, I met my baby... we're gonna have a baby....... NOW WHAT?  Buy a house?   Fit in our budget?  Director, is that somewhere in there in Act 1, Scene 5?  Huh? I need financing?  Mom gave me an allowance when I was 14, this is hard...

And as we sit in the audience of the play of life........ we see.............. car trouble...... relationship wobbles...  wunnerful kids who sometimes behave like sassy britches.  Bankrupt companies..  layoffs...  raises.. promotions..  how do I do this?  I HAVE TO MOVE?  TO TOLEDO?  (Ahm, Director.. I ain't finding that anywheres in Act 1 or Act 2...whassup?)

All plays have emote.  Love.  Hugs. Tears. Laughter.  Lights dim, assumed "Oh baby oh baby." Breakup. Get together.  Terse words.  Kind words. Hella.  Hella emotions.

Honey?  Charlie (next door neighbor) used his snowblower to do our sidewalk and driveway too!.. That family across the street, they're slobs... Cookies?  Why thank you Betty!  Like a good neighbor, Betty is there. Frank? Someone stole ma' dayum Amazon Prime package..  even gotta picture of it that they DID deliver it.  (What now Director?)  MOM, that lady won't give us our wiffle ball back again.

Playbooks are unpredictable, but, have all kinds of ends.  Tight ends, split ends (in both football and hair).. ends to meetings that one thought would never end... take this job and shove it ends (NOW WHAT Director?)..   Loose ends.. dead ends.. not the end of the world.  EASY FOR YOU TO SAY, IT'S OVER!..  Odds and ends....... even, burnt ends.

I'm filing for divorce. WHAT?  That ain't in the playbook! Worse, confusion ends.  Lonely ends. Hospice ends.  None, predictable.

Act 2, Scene 1.  Ahm, Victor?  Yeah?  There ain't nuttin in the playbook. for Act 2, Scene 1.   Oh crap, NOW WHAT?  How do  I do fitty?.............. 60?....... FINALLY! 65!!! Backflip, backflip, backflip........ Honey? You got the number to that chiropractor?

Act 3, Scene who knows.   70-something.  Peeking out the window (or, at the playbook, sumpin.)  Now what?  I'm scared... tired..  wonderful...  happy...  lonely... still madly in love.. peppy... poopy... DIRECTOR? Yes?  There are only 3 scenes in Act 3 of the playbook?  Sir, we just don't know.

Seth Lugo.

Victor, whointhehell is Seth Lugo.  He's a pitcher.  A very good one. For, the Kansas  City Royals. How are you gonna wiggle... insert here so it makes sense.. tie it in to life being a play without playbooks.

We face much in life.  Major League hitters normally deal with pitchers who have...... a fastball.. curveball.. . slider.. and changeup.  There's nuttin' easy about hitting a 97 mile per hour fastball, especially when coupled with those other three pitches.. but...  when Harry Hurler on the mound has those four different pitches, sometimes you can guess what's coming. Sometimes even, like in life, one is tipped off as to what's coming.

Victor........... you're avoiding the Seth Lugo question.  More. Now please.

Seth Lugo is like the pitcher life is.  When standing in the batter's box of life.. it's dayum hard to know 'what's coming'.  There ain'tno Act 1, scene 5. Act 3, scene 2.

Seth throws NINE different pitches.  Curveball....... Sinker......... 4-seam fastball...  Slider....... Cutter... Sweeper....   Slurve...  Changeup...... Split finger...

Ya just never know what's coming.  Holy guacamole.  No thanks, I'll have the Cheesy refried black bean dip if it's all the same to you.

Don't worry about memorizing your lines.  Life is ad lib.

Rare are curtain calls.

Rejoice.  Sit back, enjoy the play (life.)

Love you,

Victurd

I gotta weak back.......

When'd ya get it Victurd?  'Bout'a week back.

Not funny, stolen, heard it before. 

Get back............... Jojo.

Cupid, draw back your bow... and let, your arrows flow.. Straight to my lover's heart, for me.

GPS has replaced "I know that area like the back'a my hand."  (I'm not real sure I could pickout the back'a my hand in a police lineup of ten hands.)

From way back.  Comes to mind......... Steph Curry.  Caitlin Clark.  These stupid blogs.

Back to the future.  Humpty, pretending that be the United States, had a great fall... All the King's horses and all the King's men, couldn't put Humpty together again.  Victor, that's depressing.   No it ain't, let's make an omelet.

Back when I was a snotnose, I never unnerstood the 'King's horses' part. I mean, like, ya ever seen a horse do a jigsaw puzzle?  Model airplane?  Eh, mebbe they were referring to glue.  Victor you're sick.  Mebbe.

Back in business.  Hmmmm.  What'd you like to see? I could run across Mill St. and do a 5-cent Mug's Up Root Beer.  Pickout a movie at Blockbuster.  Take a stroll thru Dolgins. The old scratch and dent Sears Warehouse.  Sandy's Oakridge Manor.  Twas, the first KC place I remember.  Mattingly's Dime Store - the toys in the basement.  A dance at the JC hall, if only I could make it up all them damn steps.  Kelso's (but only with that one waitress.. you know, the one where we'd get a pizza and split two pitchers and our bill would be 34 cents each.) No wonder they went outta business.  Uh huh.  

Back in the Saddle.  Satchel Paige pitching at age fitty-nine.  Great friends of mine who've been married, three times... to each other.  Ain't makin' fun, I love that/them.  You'll never get me back in the saddle. Victor? Huh?  You mean marriage?  No, well, maybe that too. The LAST time I ever rode a horse was also the FIRST time.  No likey. Rode for an hour, then, and only then, he saw the barn, prolly abouta mile out. Basta ran faster'n Secretariat to get there. Nope, neva eva again.  Call me a wuss, don't care.

Back up.  Now, ya got a fitty five inch screen in them new cars/trucks to see when you back up.  In the old days ("Why, back in MY day").. when leaving a parallel parking spot, we'd just wait for the slight tap of the old silver bumper behindya, then, flip it to park, go from there.

Back to school.  I think the shelves in Wally are fulla looseleafs by May. Back to the drawing board.  Back woods. Bite back.  Cover your back.  That one teacher had "eyes in the back'a her head."  I scratch your back, you scratch mine.  No, down just a tad lower and over the left. I've got an itchy itchy rash. 

Knock back a few. I've never hearda that.

Welcome back Kotter.

Back burner. (Laundry, cleaning, washing car)  Your list?

Spring forward, Fall back. I love all seasons, butt, my favorite is shorts and a tee shirt. You? I'd giveya the shirt off my back in Spring, Summer, Fall.. . Winter, hell to the no, you're on your own.

Take a back seat. "HEY! I called shotgun!".. 

Wind at your back.

"We must build dikes of courage to hold back the flood of fear."  Martin Luther King, Jr.... I do, I do really like that, but I still ain't jumpin' on no horse.

Go back and do it allover?  Eh, I dunno. Sure, would be fun. Sure, we all could prolly change some things.

Victor?  Huh?  Is this where you spew unsolicted advice?

Mebbe.

I hate when old people tell me what to do but..........

Slow down, ya move too fast, got to make the morning last.  Moments are monumental - cherish them all. YOLO.  My buddy Visi's "I ain't got time for a  bad day."  I love that one.  I think we all, ok, most of us....... waste so much time in worry.....  mebbe a do over would be very nice.

Take pictures with them eyeballs.  Ya just never know.  Go look at old pics of Christmas dinner.  Uh huh. Empty chairs now.  Keep them dayum eyeballs peeled each and every second. Keep the corners of your mouth up.. the other is a waste of time.

Victor. Huh?  No preaching.  Back off blog reader dude.  So so mucha my junk here is "Do as I say, not do as I do."  I am human, here me roar.  I figure we all can look back, see how to make things smoother, funner, yummier from here on out. Eh?

Weak back.  Bouta week back.  Fire back. Out back by the outside. Backporch. Back off you dayum tailgater.  

I want my babyback babyback babyback
I want my babyback babyback babyback
I want my babyback babyback babyback
I want my babyback babyback babyback
I want my babyback babyback babyback

Chili's babyback ribs.

Yoga pants.

Victor?  Huh? The hell does yoga pants have to do with 'back', this blog?  Ahm... enter Beavis chuckle here..  really?  YOU ARE ONE'A THE BIGGEST PIGS I'VE EVER SEEN.

I heard a gal not too long ago, say "women are just as bigga pigs as men are." Si, I see. Me thinks I have heard mention of cowboys, Wrangler jeans, sumpin like that.

Looking back, looking back ain't sucha bad idea. 

My back feels better already. 

"Life is a mirror and will reflect back to the thinker what he thinks into it."  Ernest Holmes

I don't have no clever endings.

Victor........whoever said you did/do, anything clever.

Yeah, you're prolly right.  Have a vely nice day -

Love, Victurd

I gotta weak back................

When'd ya get it Victurd?  'Bout'a week back.

Not funny, stolen, heard it before. 

Get back............... Jojo.

Cupid, draw back your bow... and let, your arrows flow.. Straight to my lover's heart, for me.

GPS has replaced "I know that area like the back'a my hand."  (I'm not real sure I could pickout the back'a my hand in a police lineup of ten hands.)

From way back.  Comes to mind......... Steph Curry.  Caitlin Clark.  These stupid blogs.

Back to the future.  Humpty, pretending that be the United States, had a great fall... All the King's horses and all the King's men, couldn't put Humpty together again.  Victor, that's depressing.   No it ain't, let's make an omelet.

Back when I was a snotnose, I never unnerstood the 'King's horses' part. I mean, like, ya ever seen a horse do a jigsaw puzzle?  Model airplane?  Eh, mebbe they were referring to glue.  Victor you're sick.  Mebbe.

Back in business.  Hmmmm.  What'd you like to see? I could do a 5cent Mug's Up Root Beer.  Pickout a movie at Blockbuster.  Take a stroll thru Dolgins. The old scratch and dent Sears Warehouse.  Sandy's Oakridge Manor.  Twas, the first KC place I remember.  Mattingly's Dime Store - the toys in the basement.  A dance at the JC hall, if only I could make it up all them damn steps.  Kelso's (but only with that one waitress.. you know, the one where we'd get a pizza and split two pitchers and our bill would be 34 cents each.) No wonder they went outta business.  Uh huh.  

Back in the Saddle.  Satchel Paige pitching at age fitty-nine.  Great friends of mine who've been married, three times... to each other.  Ain't makin' fun, I love that/them.  You'll never get me back in the saddle. Victor? Huh?  You mean marriage?  No. The LAST time I ever rode a horse was also the FIRST time.  No likey. Rode for an hour, then, and only then, he saw the barn. Basta ran faster'n Secretariat to get there. Nope, neva eva again.  Call me a wuss, don't care.

Back up.  Now, ya got a fitty five inch screen in them new cars/trucks to see when you back up.  In the old days ("Why, back in MY day").. when leaving a parallel parking spot, we'd just wait for the slight tap of the old silver bumper behindya, then, flip it to park, go from there.

Back to school.  I think the shelves in Wally are fulla looseleafs by May. Back to the drawing board.  Back woods. Bite back.  Cover your back.  That one teacher had "eyes in the back'a her head."  I scratch your back, you scratch mine.  No, down just a tad lower and over the left. I've got an itchy itchy rash. 

Knock back a few. I've never hearda that.

Back burner. (Laundry, cleaning, washing car)  Your list?

Spring forward, Fall back. I love all seasons, butt, my favorite is shorts and a tee shirt. You? I'd giveya the shirt off my back in Spring, Summer, Fall.. . Winter, hell to the no, you're on your own.

Take a back seat. "HEY! I called shotgun!".. 

Wind at your back.

Go back and do it allover?  Eh, I dunno. Sure, would be fun. Sure, we all could prolly change some things.

Victor?  Huh?  Is this where you spew unsolicted advice?

Mebbe.

I hate when old people tell me what to do but..........

Slow down, ya move too fast, got to make the morning last.  Moments are monumental - cherish them all. YOLO.  My buddy Visi's "I ain't got time for a  bad day."  I love that one.  I think we all, ok, most of us....... waste so much time in worry.....  mebbe a do over would be very nice.

Take pictures with them eyeballs.  Ya just never know.  Go look at old pics of Christmas dinner.  Uh huh. Empty chairs now.  Keep them dayum eyeballs peeled each and every second. Keep the corners of your mouth up.. the other is a waste of time.

Victor. Huh?  No preaching.  Back off blog reader dude.  So so mucha my junk here is "Do as I say, not do as I do."  I am human, here me roar.  I figure we all can look back, see how to make things smoother, funner, yummyer from here on out. Eh?

Weak back.  Bouta week back.  Fire back. Out back by the outside. Backporch. Back off you dayum tailgater.  

I want my babyback babyback babyback
I want my babyback babyback babyback
I want my babyback babyback babyback
I want my babyback babyback babyback
I want my babyback babyback babyback

Chili's babyback ribs.

Yoga pants.

Victor?  Huh? The hell does yoga pants have to do with this blog.  Ahm, really?  YOU ARE ONE'A THE BIGGEST PIGS I'VE EVER SEEN.

I heard a gal not too long ago, say "women are just as bigga pigs as men are." Si, I see. Me thinks I have heard mention of cowboys, Wrangler jeans, sumpin like that.

Looking back, looking back ain't sucha bad idea. 

My back feels better already.

Repeat after me..........

UNIQUE NEW YORK.......... three times, REAL FAST!

Baby looks.  Baby eyeballs mom's (or dad's) lips.  After a lotta prodding, begging, perty please-ing, somehow it all comes together - and it's detected "HE SAID 'MAMA'!"  (Mama is most often one to be first, but, sometimes 'dada', 'doggie', 'kitty', 'cookie', 'hi' or, 'bye bye'.

I, personally, repeated my sophomore year in college because I hella enjoyed it, and I was in no hurry to do a resume' and resume 'real life'.   (Resume' and resume looks kinda repetitive, but it ain't.)

Next time ya find yourself at a Little League game, soccer, basketball, yada... listen to the moms, dads, coaches..... it's amazing how many times they'll say something, and repeat it immediately after. Like..............

"Swing level Tucker... swing level."  Or........"You can do it Hunter, you can do it!"

TikTok, which, in and of itself is repetitive (can you hear the lead in to 60 minutes... tiktok..tiktok..tiktok..) anyways, TikTok has a muchu grande' page devoted to "Telling my husband the same thing over and over and over again."  Such as,

"Married life is telling your husband the same thing 9 days in a row, just for him to say, "You've never told me that before."

I was always, I dunno... worried, concerned, ahm, MAD, had them gurgle feelings in my tummy when I heard "Like I said..." and then it was repeated what I neva' eva' heard before. MISOGYNIST!  MISOGYNIST! AM NOT! AM NOT!

We'd play the same dayum songs on the record player (Stereo if you were uppity and had a TH7 phone number, sorry, kinda, not really though)..... and then we'd turn on WHB and Johnny Dolan, again and again... and.. he'd spin the same ole same ole tunes... you know, like the Dave Clark Five's:

Ah-mmm, ah-mmm, ah-mmm, ah-mmm

Well, I went to a dance just the other night
Everybody there was dead
I said over and over and over again
This dance is gonna be a drag
I said over and over and over again
This dance is gonna be a drag
I said over and over and over again
This dance is gonna be a drag

'TOMMY!  GET IN HERE OUTTA THE RAIN, I AM NOT GONNA TELLYA AGAIN." (Betya do....)

I don't repeat gossip...... so... listen close the first time.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

Come again?

Do over....

"There is no harm in repeating a good thing."  Plato

Ahm... Elisabeth Shue Elisabeth Shue...  Sarah Jessica Parker Snarah Jessica Parker... Jennifer Aniston Jennifer Aniston   (RIGHT PLATO?)

I love kids, I do I do. (One can say 'I do', repeat it, 'I do'...but ya can't repeat 'do' 'do'.  Got it? Get it?)  Anyways..... I was a PE major and taught little kids, thus, I love kids.. I do I do.  (TIME OUT.. band camp.. 1960-something.. my sister was employed at the JFK Swimming Pool... specifically, at the Baby Pool... and her job, which paid fitty cents an hour.. was to scoop out the 'do do',  Victor, you can't say 'do do', sorry,  I just did did.)  Where the hell was I? (Ya ever notice, at this point in our lives...that happens.. what happens?  The Where the hell was I? and Whatinthehell was I gonna do? happens.  Happens to me a lot. TBC

Snotnoses. (I ALREADY TOLDYA [twice] I REALLY REALLY LIKE KIDS!)  I just love callin' em snotnoses, cause.. time after time.. their noses run. It's a repeat kinda thing.  Anyways... I work part-time at a golf course that has a pool as well. I repeat the same stupid joke every time a 4 year old cutie pie walks in in her swimsuit and she's carrying an Elsa swim ring...... 'OH!  YOU'RE HERE TO PLAY GOLF!".... and they kinda smile, giveya that look,  you know, the 'huh, you idiot' look.. .. eh, dumb joke, but, I still love doing it.

THEN......the little snotnoses get into the pool... or... jump in the pool..  and six hunnerd and eighty four times a day I hear "MOMMY... .WATCH THIS."...  "MOMMY... WATCH THIS"... or daddy.. I remind myself (repeat after me) I love snotnoses. I do. I do do.

How's that again?

Pardon me? (Why?.. you fart?)

Say again?

Short one today, sorry, kinda.. not really.  It's a work day for me...... gotta SS&S and head to work.  Oh, sorry, that's.. well..  kinda graphic.  Let's do CBR (Constitution.. Bathe.. Razor)..

Have a wonderful day.'

Have a wonderful day.

Don't repeat yesterday's errors. 

Go ahead, have a second donut. Cops do it.

Love, Duran Duran....  Daryl and his other brother Daryl... my friend Amy's cats, Larry and NotLarry..  The Go-Go's..   Bam Bam... bam, bam., bam.

And that's the way it was.

Life really is pretty darn good...  bears repeating.

Life really is pretty darn good... 

Don't think twice, it's alright.  Right Bob?

Repeat after me, "I Victor, take thee......"  RUNNNNN FORREST!!!!!!!!!!

Love, Victurd Victurd

  

The story of the rest............ by Harvey Paul

You cixelsyd Victor?  No, just tired.

Give it a rest.  Huh?  Yeah, there, I said it.  Vitriol about vitriol.  Don't make it right does it?  The ads, news blips, he said, she said,.. she said.. he said... the November thing.  Give it a rest.  Gimme a break, gimme a break, break me offa piecea that Kit Kat Bar. SURE, there's one side I like better...  that don't matta.. My side hurts from all the boogity boo vitriol.  We're better than that.  Ain't we?

Rest area. The old exit lanes they ain't what they usedta be, ain't what they usedta be.  Why back in MY day...the old Rest Area on Interstate was a treat!  A family treat.  Hey Boo Boo, grab the pic-a-nic basket........ we'll go to that pic-a-nic table under the shade tree! It was a simple era.  I remember, at least for our family - that was a treat. Getting the heck outta Dodge.. our family 'family-ing'..  Mom, Dad, happy.  Thus, sister and I as well.  When one is a snotnose - there is no perception above and beyond today...  It'll always be like this, right Boo Boo?

The rest of your life.  Daunting, ain't it?  Yeah yeah, we say (or, lots do) "I ______, take you, _____, to be my (wife/husband), to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until parted by death." Right Meatloaf?

Sometimes, trains derail.  Humpty (Humptyette) has a great fall.  Things change, get lost.  Mr. (or Mrs) Potato Head just ain't the same any more (Parts missing from what I/we thought we had.) You take this. I'll take that, and, the lawyer will take the rest.

Life........... ya got me goin' in circles...... (paa-paa-paahhh) Oh oh around and around and around I go.  I be borned...... I sleep, A LOT, but...... not for long. I wakeup cranky.  We age (Big Chief tablet, little league, HEY! What's this hair? Wow-she's perty/he's handsome, mercy that felt good, I got the job Honey!  Ain't Junior special!  Why did we have kids?  Honey? Listen! No kids! Gone, moved out. What's he/she doing back here? Take this job and shove it.  What'd you say? I can't hearya. I get confused, all this Part A, Part B, Part C, Part D.  I be old now...... I sleep, A LOT, but...... not for long. I wakeup cranky. 

Rest assured... hmmm..  could be, live life well.... or... wearing Depends to bed..  live in a gated community...  or.. put 10 to 20% away every paycheck and no touchy. (I ain't never hearda that one.)

Rest on one's laurels.  Mr. Big Stuff.. Who do you think you are, Mr. Big Stuff, you're never gonna make it far......

Rest in music.  What a day for a daydream..   Down on the corner......Daydream believer..  ...Well, I'm runnin' down the road tryna loosen my load, I got seven women on my mind, Four that wanna own me, two that wanna stone me, One says she's a friend of mine, Take it easy, take it easy. MISOGYNIST.  AM NOT!

I flunked out on the tonette - recorder.   Victor, rest in music is actually  ..  well, a quarter rest anyways.

HEY!  I gave you a TWENTY........ whar's the rest of my change?

At rest.  Come to rest (remember that video from a hunnerd years ago where them birds didn't know how to land?  FUN!)..   Put someone's mind at ease, rest. Huh uh, I don't think that makes you look fat.  Rest house. I WANT ONE!  Rest home.  NOT YET! There's golf to play!  Women to chase!  Victor, you can't even run.  OK, I'll fetch me a slow one then!

How do you think the Royals will do the resta the year?  Victor?  I don't care.  I live in Colorado, New Mexico, Cali, Mariner land, France, Redbirds all the way.  I hate baseball.

Life, to me, is like musical chairs.  Ya go, go, go.  Hurry, hurry, hurry. Then....... when it's time for rest, there ain't no damn whar to sit, lay, kick yer feet up.

Gimme a break, gimme a break, break me offa piecea that Kit Kat Bar.

Victor.......... you done used that one. I TOLDYA life goes in circles.

Give it a rest Victor.

OK. Will. Have a nice resta the day.

Theme song, Brahm's Lullaby  (Go to sleep.... little creep).. At least, that's how I remember it sung at my house growing up.

Antagonist....... the Eveready Bunny

The rest of the rest cast:  Homer Simpson, Frank Gallagher, Eric Cartman, Jake Harper, Patrick.

Harvey Paul.................  Good day.

Stand up......... Take a stand.... Need a ramp? We'll help.........

 When the night has come

And the land is dark
And the moon is the only light we'll see
No, I won't be afraid
Oh, I won't be afraid
Just as long as you stand
Stand by me

Color me old.  I believe this is the second song in a row that's from 1961.  What they hey, it was a pretty good year.  Started with JFK being sworn in, and, toward the enda the year, Roger Maris said "bye bye" to home run #61, seeya later Babe.

So darlin', darlin'
Stand by me, oh, stand by me
Oh, stand, stand by me
Stand by me

Where oh where does your simpleton brain get a load'a these topics?  I'm so glad you asked.  Today, for the first time since, probably 2016, I looked at, studied, the Baseball Standings.  We, KC, ain't been good.  Perty nice to tag along this year with the Big Market teams, hot diggity doo.

If the sky that we look upon
Should tumble and fall
Or the mountain should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry
No, I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand
Stand by me

We take standing for granted.  My take anyways.  It's like virtually anything in life we take for granted..    money..  a good running car..    a mate.. working for a solid company..  best friends.. family.. 

One day, someone, or something in that crowd won't be able to stand up.  Take a stand, do it yourself, turns to, "I'll certainly do what I can, but, I need a little help."  Who will stand by you?  In Vermillion County, Illinois, there's a group of friends (the VC Handicap Association) that volunteers time, money, knowledge, lumber, nails, saws, sweat, yada, to build ramps to gradually uplift those - both physically and mentally.  Bill Day and buddies, you go!  And thank you!

Grandstands.  Happy.  There for a reason.  A car race. A ballgame.  A Holiday presentation/celebration.

And darlin', darlin'
Stand by me, oh, stand by me
Oh, stand now, stand by me
Stand by me

Standing ovation. We've liked, enjoyed, what we've heard, seen.  We're moved.  We emote.  We stand in honor, or, in awe.

Stand out.  Hmmmm.  Could be a good thing or a weird thing eh?  Stand back (Hold ma' beer).  Stand trial.    "What's your vector Victor?" Stand by one.  Stand tall. Stand a chance. 

Darlin', darlin'
Stand by me, oh, stand by me
Oh, stand now, stand by me
Stand by me
Whenever you're in trouble
Won't you stand by me?
Oh, stand by me
Won't you stand now?
Oh, stand, stand by me

"If you fell down yesterday, stand up today."  H.G. Wells

Stand up.

Stand alone.

Stand still.

Stand corrected.

Fruit Stand.

Stand in.

Concession stand, umbrella stand, taxi stand, witness stand, newspaper stand.

Stand by me.  I agree Mr. BB King.  We need those that stand by us... just as, we need to stand by those we like, love.  No questions asked.  Well... maybe "Hey Charlie, ya think ya oughta put that cig out when you carry that bagga M80's?" That.  He may not be standing if he don't,

Even those who 'once were' in our lives..  we can and do still stand by them.  When two people lean, they become upright.  It's only right.

"In matters of style, swim with the current.  In matters of principle, stand like a rock."  Thomas Jefferson

Keep both oars in the water or else i threaten you that tomorrow's blog will be 'Ya got me goin' in circles' by Friends of Distinction.

Good day,

Love, Victurd

I'ma walkin' in the rain................ and whointheheck is Charles Westover?

 If you're old, like me, we're blessed ain't we?

Also, you might recognize the "I'ma walkin' in the rain" from a hit song of 1961, Runaway, by Del Shannon.

I'ma walkin' in the rain
Tears are fallin' and I feel the pain
Wishin' you were here by me
To end this misery

I was 9.  My very first record player.  I think it was a Motorola brand.. plastic, mostly.. One record at a time and I listened to this song, over and over and over and over, again and again and again.  Suffice to say, loving parents, as I never eva' heard "Turn that crap down!", or, "Play sumpin else!"

Charles Westover became Del Shannon. His buddy, bandmate Max Crook invented his own clavioline-based electric keyboard and for whatever reason I really really liked the sound.

That was boring eh?

Sorry, mostly, kinda.

If you've fallen asleep here (this blog) before, you kinda know I write about LIFE.  My take, my thought, sorry, kinda, not really, hopefully with a touch of humor and a pinch of 'smile, why not?'

When I looked up the definition of runaway......... of course, "Fugitive"....... Next, people, predominantly children, running away.  One of my favorite videos (I tried to find it, sorry).. is of the loving mom who took her 6 or 7 year olds sons' running away in stride.. "Good bye.. I love you.. I hope you find someone to help wipe your butt."

And then...... I happened upon the 4th definition Merriam-Webster had to offer and it so happens to also be a wonderful definition of life itself:

   "Subject to uncontrolled changes."

Band camp.. Victor, you've told this one.  Eh, so solly, why don'tya start the needle on Runaway from the beginning, again.

Anyways....... Eureka Springs, AR.  Ex sister inlaws house.  Winter. Cold. 5" of fresh snow covering 1" of now solid ice. Driveway, THE only way to get to house - WAY WAY more than 45 degrees, seemingly, straight down.  Picture, afllicted, compression socked old fart, atop staring down.  One ginger step quickly, more quickly than I ever wanted, turned into two.  Then five, then my speed likened that of a 40 yard dash dude at the NFL combine. I was, outta control....... a runaway...  I did, of course, what you probably mighta done....... I laughed.

I was literally seconds from putting a Wile E Coyote human size hole in the garage door..  I envisioned a rearranged face.. broken hip, shoulder, fibula tibula, all the 'ula's'.. I wondered, between giggles, if, a tow truck would accompany the Ambulance/EMT dudes so they could winch my fat body back up the driveway.

I was outta control.  A runaway.  Laughing.  I DID meet up with the garage door. No Wile E Coyote hole. No broken bones, ula's, face was ok, and, by now, laughing aloud.

Life.  Subject to uncontrolled change.

My little runaaway, a run run run run, runaway..

My, and I think many other old farts, metabolism AND (CLOSE YOUR EARS} "Give a sh*t", decreases yearly as we age.  Life, subject to uncontrolled change.

Victor, you of KC Mid-America... you said "Whether or not a new airport tweren't up to you.. it's for the youth of today."..   yeah, same thing about a new ballpark.  Kinda the way I feel about our November A/B choices...... Mr. Sajak, I'd like to buy a C.  But, really, it's outta my control..  for the youth... uncontrolled change.

My mom and dad eloped.  Victor, you told us that.  Did I tell you mom's first cousin, best friend (and her BFF's husband) went with them?  Yes, you did.  Did I tell you they SHARED a small motel room?  Uh huh.  Did I mention the part where they put a rope up horizontally to divide the room in half, then hung blankets over it for privacy?  Si, did.  OK, sorry.  I get to typing and my fingers Runaway.

The Royal's 2nd half?  Our chances in the upcoming Paris Olympics?  The Chiefs?  Is there a Travis Taylor wedding coming swiftly?  If so, will the Mahomes go wit' em, string a rope up across the Loews Hotel room?  Will Keith Richards and Willie Nelson ever strum their last strums?

"Subject to uncontrolled changes."

What?  Me Worry?  Going to the Protest March?  Nah, think I'll stay home and catch a few episodes of Andy and Ope........  Maybe some Carol and Timmy Conway.

As I peck at the qwertyuiop (that, is the top row'a the keyboard) Shane Lowry has a 2 stroke lead in the Open, the oldest golf tourney in the world. Do you think he'll win Victor?  Subject to uncontrolled changes, dunno.  What goes up must come down, que sera sera.... the future ain't ours to see cause it's subject to uncontrolled changes.

Victor, you shoulda been a pro golfer.  Ahm, are you on drugs?  Ain't you see me play?  Three, and sometimes FOUR putt?  Yeah but.. I was talking about Shane Lowry and what happened.  What happened?  He hit one kinda like you do..  it went COMPLETELY over the line of spectators. You know, like when you're teeing off on 9 from Clay County, and you hit it into Ray County. Very funny, on with your story. TBC.

He hit it so far into the gorse, whateverinthehell that is. a ref asked if he wanted to look for it.. he said "nah... "  then, he took a drop, hit a provisional ball..  low and behold, the spectators found the ball.. he'd bungled the rules, took a two stroke penalty.. messed up.  So.. what does this have to do with me, Victor, being a professional golfer?  Well... then you could have the crowds. .the throngs of spectators.. and after you hit onea those all too frequent balls hella far in the woods, you'd have great help finding your cheapass WalMart Nitro golf balls. Very funny, but, not subject to uncontrolled laughter.

Sorry this sucked.  Really, I am.  I was outta control.  A Runaway right Charles, er, Del?

Hey Larry?  Once you wake up.. would you mind puttin' the needle back to the start'a Runaway?

All please have a wonderful day, less worry (metabolism), and enjoy the old fart knowledge it is what is it, que sera sera, life, is subject to uncontrolled change.

Forward by Wile E. Coyote

Blog by, love, Victurd K. Schultze