you knew that.
Sorry, kinda.
This, I think, is a hodgepodge.
Some website know-all relates 'Hodgepodge is an alteration of hotchpotch, which once referred to a thick soup of barley, peas, and other vegetables, and sometimes includes meat."
I can't cook. Scratch that. Ain't got the urge for it. Usedta. Have had. Now, it's all junk, microwave.
Victor, this is boring.
Much, I find, in life, is boring.
I got back from Mickey D's recently. I buy from my app (enter 'tightwad' here... I shop for clothes at the dead people's clothes store, I use my calculator when I'm someplace and I tip so I don't over (or under) tip. I watch my money closely for, I've found I'm horrible at watching my money - if that makes any sense.
The dreaded 2-lane line at Mickey. Right (outside) lane. Car infronta me had already ordered (pulled up, but just a tad). He/she had room to pull up to the car infronta them so I could order, but nope, remained where they be, so....impatient old guy who has ABSOLUTELY no reason to 'hurry', mebbe said a baby 'u little turd', under my breath.
Car pulled into inside lane. Car intfronta him still at speaker, but, there was room for that car to pull up some. New guy on inside lane honked. Two times. Guy on the outside lane (me) thought "You idiot, that's crude.. and rude." Less will get you shot nowadays. Witness the recent Chief's Super Bowl celebration parade, hundreds of thousands gathered to celebrate. Some guy didn't like the way another guy looked at him. Tempers rose, as did pistols, and... it resulted in 16 (I think) kids shot.. one person deceased..
I don't understand life sometimes, nor death.
Car infronta me finally pulled up. I let crude guy go infronta me, wanted to give him a hand gesture, then I remembered the parade. Life is short, why make it shorter.
I got up to window one. Nice dude, fine smile, said "Order for Vic?" Yep, that's me. Yesterday, much the same. One exception. I got up to window one. Nice dudeTTE, fine smile, said "Order for Vic?" ...'Yep, and you got a nice smile.' Life is weird. Why did I tell the little gal she had a nice smile but not the young guy?
Got home. High School girl's volleyball match on TV. Already on when I walked in. Thumbed thru channels.. didn't see nuttin' better, went back, watched. Talented. Amazing, after watching through 'all the rings (years) around my 'tree', the advancement of girls/ladies, in athletics.
Between points, the teams on the floor would gather in circle, arms around one another hug-style. I just used some lyrics from this song yesterday (or so), so, sorry (not really) to repeat:
"Every kind of girl
There was long ones, tall ones, short ones, brown ones
Black ones, round ones, big deal ones"
Diversity, in a court, World, high school. They were all unique. Sure, many tall, but too, some mediums, and even two little-bitty (one on each team)- and the little bitty ones wore plain white uni's, unlike the others. Setters I think they called them.
As I watched, I wondered (inside, to my brain) if they had any idea how good life, this specific moment, is/was. They had yet to learn first hand, how'd Sam Cooke put it? "That's the sound of the men (women) Working on the chain gang.. . That's the sound of the men (women) Working on the chain gang.
Victor? That song is about PRISONERS! Uh huh. And, once mom/pop say "Don't let that door hitya in the booty", that's what you do until age 65, or, you're a lucky soul, saved well, married well, have healthcare, can mebbe retire early.
Those encircled chicks on the volleyball court (VICTOR, YOU MISOGYNIST!) relax, I'm funnin... They had not yet had 2:30am breastfeeding duty. Nightly clean the house crap because the kids were too dang young to do so themselves. They had not learned yet, it's OK to say "Not tonight honey, I've got (a big day tomorrow, headache, exhausted, worrying about bills, a mean boss, or mebbe even, I just ain't feeling it.)
Would those encircled... who would go on to work a lifetime of helping people in healthcare? Mebbe, at least for the time being, asking "Would you like fries or tots with that?"... Could any of them gotten usedto two incomes, only to have that instantaneously reduced to one due to (death, divorce, I'm sorry, I find I'm attracted to the same sex.. many, many reasons why half the time it don't work.. and, a hunnerd percent'a the time it ends.)
Would they continue to live fo'er and 'er in Podunk, or Suburbia, the Big City.. or, grow wings?
Would any of them lead a life of crime? Addiction? Have to deal with affliction? Used their heart, mind, soul in assisting an elderly parent as they make the transition from Golden years to the turf?
Would they go to their 10th class reunion? 40th? Would they hug, even remember, those others encircled? Would they stop and say a kind word, story, wish that, "It's not the same without (enter the name of a buddy that died way too dayum young) here." Could it have been soo many years from that time-out, great big group hug, that "I kinda remember your face, but what was your name again" happens?
Will they.............. travel? Have a girls weekend in Florida? Go to the local Corner Bar once a month? Golf? Join, lead, a book club? Knit? Sew? Could they run a 5K at age 35? 55? Will they ever break a bone? A piece'a their best china? A heart?
Will they be a Pub or a Dem, and, if so, would they still do that circle hug of the entire team again one day?
Will they save each, every, crayola drawing their snotnoses have done, once, the refrigerator limit has been reached?
If their little turd forgot to flush the stool and it was still, obviously yellow pee in there, would they think "That's cute" or would they have 'em march right back in there to flush? IF, they found 'it's cute', would they have the patience to think the same way if it were their stepkid's pee?
As they go from dorm to apartment to starter home to bigger home with stairs, rooms for growth.... so goes their dinner furniture... tray table to folding table to table/four chairs, to bigass old thing with slats, more chairs stashed in the basement for Holidays.
Would there one day be empty chairs around those tables, and if so, would they all hurt the same or some, more than others?
Will Facebook still be here for them when they're fittysomething? Will they get a spooky friend request from a deceased friend? Have a tear when a memory from ten years ago pops up and so and so (now gone) had laughed, commented on their post? Will the day come, and if so, at what age, they realize "life really really is precious, BUT, can too be fleeting"?
Will they see crying as... a good thing... a self pity thing? If so, are happy tears ok?
I know, ya ain't gotta say. My brain is weird. People watching (a circle of vibrant, beautiful, talented kiddos) prompts the blood (thoughts?) in my brain to go out (like arteries) and sometimes thoughts sneak back in (like veins.)
I don't recall which team won. Is that too perhaps a lesson in life?
I did notice, as they played, and time, the game(s) ran on... jubilation.. disappointment.. signs of tiredness.. getting up when they occasionally had fallen.. complimented teammates.. caught an occasional "eye" from their coach (ie, the boss).. they made mistakes.. they done good.
It all reminded me a lot like life.
Please keep this our secret. I kinda thought, the impatient guy who honked while on the inside lane at Mickey D's was an asshole. (More, way more than once, I've heard, "Oh, we see a new side to Victor.")
Sorry to cuss, but not really.
Love, Victurd
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