The eyes have it...

Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes.

She's got Bette Davis eyes. She’s not just captivating in her looks, she’s got the chutzpah to back it up. She’s bold, confident, and definitely skilled in the art of seduction. She seems to know what she wants and goes after it, but no partner is safe when under her spell.

And she’ll tease you
She’ll unease you

Good eye. Keep your eye on the ball. Catch someone's eye.  I know this ain't what that meant, but, Fred Arbanas was a highly successful tight end for the Kansas City Chiefs. Age 26, Fred was brutally attacked by two men, lost eyesight in one eye. Did not stop him from playing football. TBC

Fred then had a glass eye put in. After a hard hit the next year... the eye popped out. Game was halted whilst players got on knees to search for the eye.

Found, handed back to Fred.  He placed the eye in his mouth to clean it, lube it up, then popped it back in the socket.  A ref was left amazed. He went to him, said "Man you are one tough SOB....have you thought about what you'd do if you got your good eye poked out?"  Without missing a beat, Fred said "Oh that's easy. I'll just become an NFL ref."

I might mention, and have before, I have one friend totally blind, eyesight progressively worsened over the years... a 2nd friend, legally blind. They are, simply, amazing humans.  One goes fishing often, the other goes snow skiing, annually, and that's not a typo. 

This morning, when thinking about a topic, the word pizzazz surfaced... I was thinking of a certain person, a relative actually. This person lights up the room, the mood, life in general... that pizzazz shines through the eyes and the smile.  My two buddies above, each, hands down, full of pizzazz.

The apple of one's eye. Bird's eye. Eagle eye. Stars in one's eye. Catch someone's eye. Eyes bigger than stomach.  The teacher had eyes in back of her head.

Blog, X, Instagram, yada, in the public eye. Without batting an eye (mebbe 'cause she had Bette Davis eyes.) 

Can't take my eyes off of you.... Behind blue eyes.... I only have eyes for you...   Smoke gets in your eyes...  Blue eyes cryin' in the rain (sing it Willie!)... These eyes.. 

I heard an expression the other day.  A friend described one as having smiling eyes.  I LIKE THAT.  I really LIKE that.

Smiling eyes...

Pizzazz

Life, aging, edjumacates us to filter out the yuck we see, hear, focusing instead on positive, light, fun...

All while having smiling eyes with a pinch of pizzazz tossed in.

Yum.

Love, Victud

I can't wait until tomorrow.

One young, brash Joe Willie Namath usedta say that, then add "Because I get better looking each day."

Ahm, no, no, and again quoting my stepson "hells to the nos."

Do re me.  Victor, you misspelled 'mi'.  Huh uh, 'me' with intent. I really really wish I could write about someone, something else (and thankfully I do occasionally!), every time I look in the mirror, it's ME!

Every time I look down at my shoes, they're MINE, so, you're stuck with reading what happens while I'm in em. Sorry, kinda, but, you could Snagglepuss here and I wouldn't get mad.

I can't wait until tomorrow.  Victor, you already said that, and yeah yeah yeah,  according to that little redheaded snotnose, we're aware the sun will undoubtedly come out. So, why do you say that?

Well...  I suppose out of fear. Unknown.  Huh?  You basically said 'Kool-aid Kool-aid, tastes great, wish I had some, can't wait" for tomorrow. 

Yep. Tomorrow is scary. It ain't like being a kid and "next year, I'm gonna do 10 more pull ups." 

Contrary to how many millions Clairol sells, "you're not getting older, you're getting better" is funny ha ha. Makes me wanna run to Dicks Sporting Goods and buy a can of tennis balls

For my walker. I mean look around..  sometimes older ain't pretty.

Me, me, me.

Just yesterday morning (Victor? James Taylor ain't it? Fire and Rain?).. well no. I mean yes, kinda.

Just yesterday morning I drove to the golf course.  Victor, it's like one of your former "you knows" said, "Not everyone is as excited as you about your ideas, interests", ahm, like golf.  Hell I ain't even sure if either of your two readers have ever played.

Where was I? Oh yeah, golf course, Kearney, MO. We (old farts) gather at 9-ish, for the daily 'scramble'. That's where we put colored chips in a hat, we draw for teams. 

Most days 12 or so guys, sometimes,  a perty lady or three, and we play 18 holes, bet a whopping $4... hope like heck the new hips, knees, teeth all function.

We care, but we don't, who wins.  I drew a red chip.   Four to a team today, hey, Charlie got red too! Charlie is 85, a damn good golfer, fun, and even better, from Liberty like me!

Ron M got a red chip too.  He's 79, if you can picture Tim Conway, uh huh, that's him. Dry, dry (wonderful) wit. I hollered to Charlie (loud enough for Ron M (Tim Conway) to hear, "Aw crap, now we gotta have fun."

Add Ron S (77 I think), good dude. Glory Days, Little All American Running back.

So...two Ron's and Liberty (Charlie and I.) 85, 79, 77, and me, the pup, 71.

And there I was. I was taken to a place (VICTOR, I know that one, Spill the Wine, War!) Well, yes, and no.

The place I was taken to was what I've feared... tomorrow... living, being... 75... 77... 79..  80... 83.. 85.

Between laughter, jokes, bantering, talk of wives, more laughter....we'd occasionally hit a golf ball straight..  in the woods..   not very far..  too far...  and on rare occasions, perfectly.

The older guys, honest, better golfers than I.  We were, by far, the oldest of our three groups.

Yesterday's blog was home on the range, where, seldom is heard a discouraging word. Golf with two Ron's and Liberty (Charlie and I) there was NEVER a discouraging word.

Tim Conway (ie, Ron M, 79) was awesome. Par three course, I think he hit (landed on, first shot) 16 outta 18 greens.  I complimented him after. True to Conway form, "hey, will you tell Bo I played good?  They wanted to kick me off the team yesterday!" (They hadn't, and didn't.... Bo, 'Tim', were simply funning.

I wish I could relate every humorous line, take, moment, but. .. that (fun, humor, light) was nonstop.

Now, I can't wait for tomorrow.   Why Victor?  Is that because Charlie (85) and 'Tim' (79) and Ron S. (77) hit em so straight so you think there's future hope for you to do so too?

Well, perhaps. We all, at least I do, fear the unknown. None of us have ever been older.  

If, being blessed to be older, and to resemble the fun, leisure, levity, good nature like my teammates displayed, I can't wait.

We finished 2nd, outta three groups. Won a dollar.

Leaving now to go play again this morning. Be there or be talked about.  It's more than the coffee, donuts, pars, bogey, birdies.

It's life. I can't wait.

Love, Victurd

I ain't never seen an antelope...

 Home on The Range

Oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam
Where the deer and the antelope play,
Where seldom is heard, a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

In 1862, for a small fee, The Homesread Act afforded one to claim 160 acres as long it was agreed to build a house and farm the land. The intent, Go West Horace.

Home, home on the Range;
Where the deer and the antelope play;
Where seldom is heard, a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

Horace did, and so did Dr. Brewster Higley.  He and horse hoofed it to Smith County, Kansas. Long about 1872, after many nights of starlit skies, the peace, quiet...beauty of the environment, he wrote a poem entitled My Western Home - contained the lyrics here, I can't get the 'type' to switch from italic to regular because my laptop went kapooey and I'm using my crappy Android phone to blog.

Where the air is so pure and the zephyrs so free
And the breezes so balmy and light
That I would not exchange my home on the range
For all of the cities so bright

A tad later someone added music to the poem. Wagons rolled across America..as they circled for an overnight, made stew, the guitars would come out, all would sing the song. Lo and behold in 1947 it became the State song of Kansas. Victor, being from Missoui, you hate Kansas?  

Hate is a strong word, but I do wonder whatintheheck was in that stew if they was seein' antelope. Maybe it made em see that bird in the sky too...you know, that big beak Jayhawk.

Home, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard, a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

Bing sang the most popular version, FDR coined it "My favorite song". America in transition, again.

How often at night when the heavens are bright
With the light of the glittering stars
I stand there amazed and I ask as I gaze
Does their glory exceed that of ours?

It really is amazing (to me anyways), no matter our skin color, language, religion (or not), no matter where/what type of abode we live - all of us have in common the light of the glittering stars.  Makes ya not wanna utter a discouraging word, even about Kansas.

Home, home on the range
Where the deer and the antelope play
Where seldom is heard, a discouraging word
And the skies are not cloudy all day.

Sometimes I like cloudy skies. Kids in the street playing stick ball, hollerin' "Car coming!" for a brief stymie halt. Cul-de-sacs, Gravel roads, Interstates, houses so close together (like Chicago) there aint room for a driveway tween em.. a good ole rain, follow by Sol and a rainbow. Rainbows are unique, different, like us. All of us, beneath the glittering stars.

Getting a tad sappy mebbe, we are lucky to live here. We can go anywhere, any time, do anything (within reason/law) we wanna.Even in/to Topeka or Smith Center. Even Cawker Center, Kansas, home to The Biggest Ball of Twine in the entire US of A.

OK, truth is, I like Kansas.  Their fans are probably nicer to me than I am to them. Did I mention how wonderful Free Speech is?

Cheers to Bing... FDR... ole Brewster... Frank Stoeber... WHO?  Frank, he created that ball of twine...Deer.  Zephyrs... kids who write on sidewalks across the land with rock chalk. Antelopes.  Rainbows, that perty Fruit Loops bird, all that.

Home. Home on the range. 

Paul Harvey, good day.

Soare......... Buford T. Justice.......... and......... do larks ever argue? Get sad?

In answer to your perceived question, no, there's probably no figuring me out.

A-Well-a everybody's heard about the bird!
Bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, bird is the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, well-a bird is the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, well-a bird is the word.
A-Well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, well-a bird is the word.
A-Well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a don't you know, about the bird?
Well, everybody knows that the bird is the word!
A-Well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the bird.
A-Well-a

 Soare.    After hours and hours and hours of searching (prolly 10 minutes or so) I discovered that soare is recommended as one of the top Wordle starter words.  In spite of getting my butt kicked almost daily by my youngest niece, it's been vely good to me.

A-Well-a everybody's heard, about the bird!
Bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a don't you know, about the bird?
Well! Everybody's talking about the bird!
A-Well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the bird.
A-Well-a bird!

I usedta post scores on Facebook.  Then, a 'touch friend' (touch friends are friends from the past ya never see anymore, but, they're there, on your friend list), anyways, the touch friend would only post his score of 2 on my post when I had a 3.  Or, 3 when I had a 4.  4, when I had a 5.  This is where Buford T. Justice comes in.

Sumbitch.

I had to lookup the definition of soare, and it's a young hawk.

The hell does that have to do with lark Victor?

Ahm, they both fly.

Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Pa Oom M-Mow Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Pa Pa Pa Oom M-Mow Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Pa Pa Oom M-Mow Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Oom M-Mow Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Pa Pa Oom M-Mow Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Pa Pa Oom M-Mow Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Oom M- Oom M- Oom M- Oom M-
Oom M-Mow Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Pa Pa Oom M- Oom M- Oom M- Oom M-
Oom M-Mow Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Oom M-Mow Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Pa Pa Oom M-Mow Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Pa Pa Oom M-Mow Mow
Oom Mow M-Mow
Pa Pa Oom M-Mow Mow
Oom Mow M-Mow
Pa Pa Oom M- Oom M- Oom M- Oom M-
Oom M-Mow Mow
Oom M- Oom M- Oom M- Oom M-
Oom M-Mow Mow
Oom Mow M-Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Pa Pa Oom M-Mow Mow
Oom Mow M-Mow
Well-a don't you know, about the bird?
Well! Everybody knows that the bird is the word!
A-Well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the bird
A-Well-a Oom M-Mow Mow
Pa Pa Oom Mow M-Mow
Ba Pa Oom M-Mow Mow
Oom Mow M-Mao
Pa Pa Oom M-Mao Mao
Oom Mao M-Mmao
Pa Pa Oom M-Mao Mao

Suffice to say, we've all heard the saying "Happy as a lark." Jubilant, ecstatic, elated, delighted, thrilled, euphoric, merry as a cricket (huh?), floating on cloud nine, tickled pink, happy as the day is long.  SoarEing, so to speak.

Bird babies average stay in the nest is 3 weeks to 10.  Then, gone.  Fly the coup, nest, seeya later.  Have a SoarEing life.  WHAT?  No videos games in the basement, no job, age 30?  Nope.  No "Mom, dad, can I borrow a hunnerd worms?"  Huh uh.  Diapers? Back to school nights? Driver's permit nightmares from the passenger seat?  HUMONGOUS weddings to pay for?  Nope.

I wonder if this is why some folks name their kids Robin, or Raven, or Jay, Wren, Dove, Mavin, yada.  If you name it, they will fly.

Mean Victor, you're just mean.

Eh, mebbe.

Back to words. (Bird is a word.)  We hear, on average, they say 20,000 to 100,000 words a day.  Victor, who talks more, a man or a woman?  Holy guacamole, you WANT me to get in trouble eh?  I've researched and researched (brief scan of 7 articles) and they don't have a good answer.

About that.  Words. Hearing words. We hear all them dayum words, times however many days there are in a year, times however many years we live outta the nest.  Suffice to say, it's a lotta words.

Strange, to me at least, a given few will fo'er be etched up there in the brain.  Good ones, bad ones.  Happy ones, sad ones. Some taunt, some haunt, and thankfully, some make us wanna flaunt. Happy as a lark?  Do larks argue?  Get sad?  SoarE?

A-Well-a everybody's heard about the bird!
Bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, bird is the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, well-a bird is the word.
A-Well-a bird bird bird, b-bird's the word.

Fly Robin fly.  Feathers are nature's works of art..  Early bird, worm.  Of a feather, flock together.  Peacock proud. Birds remind us to appreciate the simple joys of life.

The heck is a surfin' bird?

Have a chirpy day, tweet tweet!

Love, Victurd

No one with books is ever alone, even in the darkest moments.....

That ain't what this is about.

I'm in the library (long-short story, laptop at home kaput, phone battery dead/dying, wadn't charging very fast at home... thus, the library. 20" monitor, I feel like I'm driving a Caddy btw.)  Anyways, in BIG LETTERS on the wall was the 'book saying sentence.'

I'd earlier thought about doing a blog on steering.  Then again, thought, whotheheck am I to provide guidance.  Still, two quick steering stories.

Funeral. Victor, you've told this one already.  Bite me, this is what old people do, this is a recording.  I, along with cousins, maybe an uncle, close friends, were pallbearers for an uncle. (Mighta been an aunt, can't remember)...... Anyways, 6 of us and the 80-something funeral director at the wheel headed from the funeral to the cemetery. TBC

The old feller drove, top speed, 28mph.  All good, small town, everyone knew everyone.  Each, every car that approached, 'turned their lights on, pulled over to the sidea the road in respect."  Well, almost each, every car.  Those that didn't, as they got a car length or two from the 80 yr old funeral director hearse driving feller - and they hadn't pulled over - he'd purposely jerk the steering wheel into their lane simply to say "Have a little respect ya whippersnapper" and, to get them thinking "he's gonna hit me!"  Almost under his breath, we learned some new words.  I happen to think levity and funerals could, should go hand in hand.  I mean (don't ever believe anyone who normally starts a sentence with "I mean", then, they don't.)  I mean, don't the vast majority of us like 'light/fun' en route to that point?

Steering tale #2.  I used the term tale loosely, as the storyteller was my father.  He thrived on telling stories and he thrived even higher when listeners would raise one eyebrow in thinking "nuh uh, that dude is pulling our leg" as he spoke.  Anyways, he tells me he once had a car the steering had gone out.  In true Schultze fashion, he knew a shade tree mechanic that would undoubtedly save him fitty bucks.  Except. he claims, the shade tree feller hooked the steering up bassackwards - thus, when he veered right, car went left - and vice versa.  I, don't know the difference between a walnut and a lugnut, so I couldn't tellya if this were true/possible, he swears so.  Anyways, it was quite the venture home, did hit one pole (bent the fender back out later), but, home, all in one piece. TBC, kinda.

Golfer buddy, teammate in our group yesterday.  Hit a nice shot but it was a few yards to the right of the flagstick - as it descended he hollered "KICK LEFT!"...  the ball landed, it bounded the opposite way, to which, my buddy immediately hollered "The OTHER left."

There are moments (tell the truth Victor, hours, days, weeks, months) where I ain't got the interest in blogging, cleaning house, taking off two compression socks to enable showering, showering, cooking, driving, getting outta pj's, ok, t-shirt and undies, lots.  I sometimes lose my will to do lots.

So................  I Googled "Good songs to use in blogging."  I shoulda known they didn't unnerstand 'the hell' I meant, cause oft times I write here in the black and white and I know you have trouble unnerstanding, ha, me too!

Google handed me:  9 of the best songs to listen to when you need motivation.

I knew two.

First was, "I Will Survive."  Pardon my French, 'Botter le cul'... if that ain't onea the most 'Botter le cul' songs EVER, I'll eat this 8 and 1/2 by 11. Botter le cul = kick ass.

Second was "The Impossible Dream"  All well and good, but I ain't much into syrupy.  I even use sugar free syrup on my blueberry pancakes.  Chirpy, sappy, syrupy, "Give it a hunnerd and ten percent" - no thanks.  I do enjoy the vocal, audially, but to me, it's like having all the extra utensils, plates, bowls infronta ya for a 5 course meal when sitting at the counter of the Awful Waffle.  A tad much.

There was one called 'Rise' and it was written, sung by Katy Perry.  We all have our opines, but, her eyes drive me nuts, she seems to be someone, even I, could sit down with on the sofa and have a fun, easy conversation.  That's short for, dayum she's hot (to me at least.)

Somea the lyrics:

I won't just survive
Oh, you will see me thrive
Can't write my story
I'm beyond the archetype
I won't just conform
No matter how you shake my core
’Cause my roots, they run deep, oh

Oh ye of so little faith,

Don't doubt it, don't doubt it.

Victory is in my veins

I know it, I know it

And I will not negotiate

I'll fight it, I'll fight it.

Yeah yeah yeah, again, chirpy, my take.  She looked great on the video, still, too much sugar, kinda domineering, challenging lyrics.

I just want, enjoy nice, happy, light.  Sorry I steered off the path of norm, but, at least I finished a dadgum blog.

I'm so excited.  I just can't hide it. (Like Pat Paulsen mebbe,) I'm about to lose control I think I like it.

Yes please, scattered, smothered and covered.      Comin' right up!

Love, Victurd

ATTENTION...

About face.

No, this isn't about the time I went to the golf driving range, decided to video myself on three swings. My game had gotten to the Beetlejuice "Somebody help me" stage. ...and, I had the dadgum phone camera turned a hunnerd and eighty degrees the wrong way.  Acres of green, three audal 'whacks' heard, no fat man in sight.

About face, that example, 'the other way.'

The kind of 'about face' and 'attention' I'm talking about is, when two are interacting.

There is a waitress at a place I frequent, a beautiful, endearing smile - but, in a flash, the millisecond she's away from the table, it's gone. Is the smile shallow? Victor, you are a judgmental asshole. Maybe. And yes, who the heck knows the goings on of her world, but too, I think a majority of time, what is suspected is probably correct. 

So Victor, I see, and you are always perfect aintya?

Of course not.

This is about care and attention.  BLESS THOSE who ask, then fully give their attention to one's answer. Care/attention.

I admit, eye contact is, can be, difficult for me. I wish it weren't so, and I do try.  Goofy maybe, self image, I dunno.

I see stuff. You see stuff. Ever, when in conversation, seen someone check the time on their watch? Or, gaze into your eyes, then, they lose that eye contact, their head turns and, (Victor, you're getting judgmental again) it seems, feels like their thinking cap is silently saying, thinking "how am I gonna get out of this?"

Victor? Wake up on wrong side of bed?

There is a wall on one side, huh uh. Only one way out.

Again, we can't jump inside other's brain, and life is of course a teacher in that, sometimes, "Holy crap, I didn't know all that was going on in your world."

Dangit Victor, GPS this blog. The heck you going?

Sugar and spice and all things nice.  I strive to 'wash inept' off, be a good person, and I am perked by much nice:  smiles, love, pets, touch, hug, kindness, Yada.

All the traits of inattention..  the aforementioned eyes not focusing, looking at one's watch, phone, in the other direction.. (uh oh, I hear a Victor sermon coming). Well crap, maybe.  

We can use those not too spiffy examples, and try not to do em ourselves.  

One of the most incredible feelings in the world is when someone asks "How ya doing?" AND then follow it up with full attention, a smile can help too. Care. As in, they care, truly.  

I write to me, for me, hitchhikers welcome.

Do that Victor. Devote full attention. You know how good it feels when it's done to you, reciprocate. 

To all the 'care givers', those free with smile, kindness, true concern, thank you.

I will try to reciprocate.

I am human, hear me roar, snore, slip, fail, open mouth- insert foot.   But I will try.

A promise.

Speakingothwhich, thank you thank you thank you for your eyes, ears, smiles, attention here. You make bloggin' fun.

About face.

Oft times it is, thank you.

Love, Victurd

Create is a scary word.. .

I sit here, lazily, because I am that, daily, tryin' to thinka crap to write (the pay really stinks, but I like my job) to maybe, MAYBE bring one smile to the world. My take, we could use some.

So, a needle pulling thread VICTOR!, sorry. So, I wanna create, or, as Oxford something-or-other worded, "Bring (something) into existence." You mean like that smile Victor?  Uh huh, I do. (I've also found, "I do" can be skeery too. VICTOR! Huh? Go drink coffee, no one wants to hear stuff like that.

Right you are.   And, if I drink coffee, it's a cinch I'll create something,  if you know what I mean. 

Synonyms for create (thought they might help):

Design. Nope. Can't draw. 

Fashion. Huh uh, that neither. I'm always behind in keeping up with the latest fashion. Do you realize how long it takes a cool shirt, pair'a jeans to show up at the dead people's store?

Erect. That's kinda personal ya know? (Not sure why I thought of George Burns but I did. He coined "Sex at 90 is like playing pool with a rope.")

Fabricate.  I can do that. I'm heap big into psychology (long story) and I once read, "Don't beat yourself up over white lies, they're mostly OK, and often even needed to ease things." Cool.

Knock up. Ahm, birth of child in '85, 'V' soon after, nope.

Shape. Well, at present, kinda like a pear. I hate mirrors.

Organize. Did you like just get here?  I have like 6 junk drawers, halfa my life is spent "the heck did I put that?" No. Nope. No way.

Put in place.  Scroll to the above. I am the antonym of OCD.

Constitute. Sorry, only on 3rd cuppa coffee. Soon though.

Knock off.  I do that a lot. I get, the drops. My elbows oft times get in the way, knock things off. When I do, I assess. Do I really need that 'Down there?' Can I kick it over a little where I can pick it up not bending or bracing my left hip? (I need a new one). Mosta the time, I want until I knock something else off...then kick it over by the first thing I knocked off. Two birds, one (almost) fell swoop.

Get something going. Get something moving.  Get something working. Kick something off.

The kicking one. I dreamed I was in a Hollywood movie, and that I was the star if that movie. No, that ain't it, but, dream #2 (after MLB player) was, to be the next Jan Stenerud. VICTOR? Who's she? It ain't a she. J pronounced like a Y. He's an NFL hall of fame kicker.

I spent hours, days, weeks, kicking a football offa tee. Going to get it, again and again. I'll have you know, all that hard work I designed, fashioned, erected, fabricated, shaped, put in place, knocked off, got me too...  drum roll:

Backup kicker on our high school football team. Kinda tears me up like Springsteen's Glory Days. I can't remember if we were behind by 40, or ahead, I just remember hearing "Schultze, go kickoff."

There is nothing creative here. I kicked it to the opponents 15. Ho. Hum. C+/M-, the Paul Harvey of my life.

Create a wonderful day for yourself.

Love, Victurd

You were on my mind...

 When I woke up this morning

You were on my mind...
And
You were on my mind

And when you were, I thought how dadgum cool is that? Not only are we unique in our favorites in the fridge, but where, when, how we sleep, the size, location(s) of our TV's, whatintheheck is parked in our driveways, garages, who we live with, if anyone.... and WHERE....

To me, that's the amazing part. The sun comes up at different times, the terrain don't look like anyone elses...there's cul-de-sacs, circles, gated communities, condos, apartments, acreage.  Somehow, we're sewn together.

I got troubles, whoa-oh
I got worries, whoa-oh
I got wounds to bind

Who ain't? We face it in varying ways.  Most, glue a dadgum smile to our face, some, groan a little, then others bitch, BLOG and holler things like AND SO IS YOUR OLD MAN...I'M A PEOPLE PERSON for behoogity sakes, and, KEEP YOUR DAMN WIFFLE BALL OUTTA MY YARD!

So I went to the corner
Just to ease my pains
Just to ease my pains

Yes, I DO go to the Corner, but it prolly ain't like you're thinking. Some read, some nap, medicate, Netflix binge, crank the stereo (they still make them damn things?)  

I got troubles, whoa-oh
I got worries, whoa-oh
I came home again

We do do that. Home is happy, sad, uplifting, depressing, ours, theirs, comfy, in general though, when ya turn the car engine off, it's a nice feeling to get there.

But I woke up this morning
You were on my mind...
And
You were on my mind

Because what better place to come to, to say, perhaps without saying, I like you, love you, kinda understand what you go thru daily, am there for you, I'm glad to hear your stories, and I guess it's pretty obvious, I dump mine on you. Coffee makes me dump, very poor pun.  Sorry, kinda, BUT, it reminds me, maybe you too.....

We are different,  and that's OK. What's fun to one might be revolting to another. Some mighta even left after the dump pun, no sh*t. VICTOR! YOURE PUSHING IT A TAD!

Of course, we do do that, but we still kinda, how you say it Aretha? R-E-S-P-E-C-T one another. Life is all about: me too..OMG!...For real?...I was thinking the same thing... YOLO... The Golden Rule.. Never in my wildest dreams.. (Hmm., mebbe a blog for another day!)

Yeah, I got troubles, whoa-oh
I got worries, whoa-oh
I got wounds to bind

Uh huh..  on a scale of 10, our physical, mental, emotional pain can be 1, 4, 7, 9, just like you.

Hey, I got a feelin'
Down in my shoes...
Said uh
Way down in my shoes...

I ain't never shot a rabbit nor worn cowboy boots, but by all means, you go-ahead and 2 step, then have a little stew. That's a croc, mebbe their kinda shoe. Barefoot in the park works too.

Yeah, I got to ramble, whoa-oh
I got to move on, whoa-oh
I got to walk away my blues

RAMBLE? Victor, be for real, you write/blog, like to the tune of 1300 of em or so. Yeah, prolly.

When I woke up this morning
You were on my mind...
And
You were on my mind...

Hey, I got troubles, whoa-oh
I got worries, whoa-oh
I got wounds to trolly.

The point is (THANK GOODNESS YOU FINALLY ARRIVED HERE VICTOR)...

I like you. You're not exactly like me. Somehow, I think you feel the same way.

Hopefully we can have some nice rests.  Awaken ((TGLW) after the election, a Winter of potholes, no matta who wins the World Series, Super Bowl, Best Actor/Actress, whateva' the Farmers Almanac lends us... we find, in spite of difference, we ALL can get along, and we'd hear that voice'a singin' (Louie, I think it was)

And I said to myself, what a wonderful world.

Love Victurd

VICTOR?  Huh?  Just yesterday I heard you get kinda short with a coworker. Uh huh, I am human, hear me snore, roar, fart, be profane  (whoaaah, a new side to Victurd), yeah. Sorry. Mostly. I do worry, but, eventually fall asleep at night with that reminder, I am human, just like you.

If you're happy and you know it.......

Clap your hands

Yeah yeah yeah...  I am that.  Strainers, I likes them.  Ya can rinse rice, strain stocks and broth...and make smooth creamy sauces.  Victor?  Like, you don't do that.  Right you are, guilty.  I am happy for the strainer of old age in that, things that usedta get stuck (in my brain), now, thanks to "huh uh, I am no longer lettin' crap like that bug me', don't.

If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands

Bluejays, Royals, Chiefs, WJC Cardinals, STL Cardinals (bite me, my folks were fans).. Victor, quit being grumpy, use the strainer, if you're gonna talk the talk, sift the walk there friend.

If you're happy and you know it
Then your face will surely show it
If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands

Face, YES.  The heck is better'n an oncoming smile?  A dadgum doggy'a walkin', they are ALWAYS happy... a smile is the Mercurochrome to bad news, feeling badly, a buddy without a smile... and, simply for no reason at all.

If you're happy and you know it, stomp your feet.  I/we can still do that.  Kinda.  Old age, stomp = tap.  Tap is good. Any/every small/big town in 'Merica.. .the fans... they sit in them bleachers.. the indoors are usually wooden ones, the outdoors are normally of the aluminum variety.. and, thanks to Queen's We Will We Will ROCK YOU - they stomp.  Ya been to a high school game of any variety in the last fitty years?  Try it, you'll like it... (I highly recommend HS and Jr HS plays too, yum, talented kids) and... most school districts let old farts in free. That makes me, and fellow geezers, happy, wanna clap our hands, stomp our feet. 

If you're happy and you know it, stomp your feet
If you're happy and you know it
Then your face will surely show it
If you're happy and you know it, stomp your feet

The dance floor, mark, set, git ur butt up.  In the car, the floorboard, crank music, stomp away (but not the gas pedal.)

If you're happy and you know it, shout hurray (hurray)

If a friend tells ya something that pumps them up, holler HURRAY!  If a little one, mebbe a grandkid, for the 37th time that day, says, "Grandpa (or grandma, or aunt, uncle, yada) WATCH THIS! And after you watch, holler HURRAY!  It'll not only makey you happy, but, them too!

If you're happy and you know it, shout hurray (hurray)
If you're happy and you know it
Then face will surely show it
If you're happy and you know it, shout hurray (hurray)

Well...
You know you make me wanna (shout)
Kick my heels up and (shout)
Throw my hands up and (shout)
Throw my hands back and (shout)
Come on now (shout)

VICTOR.  YOU CANNOT HAVE TWO SONGS WITHIN ONE BLOG.  (Strain, strain, scram dude!)

If you're happy and you know it, do all three (hurray)

Can you juggle?  Do all three at once?  Hell, if ya can't, then try smply rubbing your head and patting your belly - OR, vice versa.  Wanna have even more fun?  Ask a little snotnose to try the rub head, pat belly thing...they never get it right the first time, but that will make you happy and wanna clap your hands, stomp  your feel, should hurray. If you really wanna impress me, say, 'Unique New York', 3 times, REAL fast.

If you're happy and you know it, do all three (hurray)
If you're happy and you know it
Then your face will surely show it
If you're happy and you know it, do all three (hurray)

Lots.  Lots make me wanna do all three.  A crisp autumn day like today, yum. The tips of the trees they're'a turnin', yippy.  A heavenly breakfast out amongst friends, of, if by one's lonesome - like I was a few minutes ago.. the people watching. Happy. Clap. Stomp.  Hurray.

Rain. Lasagna.  No dirty laundry in the basket, or, on Facebook. A text, phone call, email, messenger thingy from (or to) a friend.  Touch.  Touch is good. Happy. Clap. Stomp. Hurray.

The one in every 27 times I hit a golf ball and it goes exactly as I visualized. Your child parenting.  Sunrises, sunsets. "Coffee ready."  Hitting the hay from what little causes exhaustion as an old fart, but dadgum it feels good to get prone.

I'll go now.  Pee I mean.  That makes me happy.  Plumbing. Plumbing is important. Even if ya leave the R out (impotant, sp, I know) it's important.

What makes you happy?

Ifn's ya are, are ya too much of a skeerdy cat to clap about it in public?  Stomp your feet "only for the young'ns?".. Hurray still in your vocabulary?  I hope so.

Life is good, happy... but only if we hop up outta the dugout...... grab a bat, head to the on deck circle.. it's now our time to bat.

Put me in Coach...... I'm ready to .... smile, clap, stomp, holler hooray.

Love, Victurd

Who the heck is Wilbert?

Wilbert... Wibert Harrison, that's who the the heck, he wrote this song.

What song?

Kansas City, THAT song.

Victor, we've been thru this. No one cares about KC like you do. Whaddaya say to that?

Just hop off the bus Gus. Make a new plan Stan. Go to the nude beach, sleep on your back, get a sunburn, I don't care. Go do the NYT crossword puzzle, that'll keepya occupied for a year.  

I'm going to Kansas City, Kansas City here I come
I'm going to Kansas City, Kansas City here I come
They got some crazy lil' women there
And I'm gonna get me one.

Well Wilbert, with this 7 game losing streak, that (gettin' you a woman) wasn't my first thought.

I'm gonna be standing on the corner
Of Twelfth Street and Vine
I'm gonna be standing on the corner
Of Twelfth Street and Vine
With my Kansas City baby
And a bottle of Kansas City wine.

Drink whatever wine you want Wilbert. That Winking Owl crap is cheap at Aldi's, aint bad. We're a moderate, modest City, Lotta folks here do that box wine stuff.

And oh, Wilbert, BTW, the ballpark ain't downtown yet. Hop on I-70, go a few miles East.  We're sinkin', need all the fan support we can get.  It (the 7 game losing streak) is only a flesh wound, nuttin' a little Salv can't heal, right Senor' Perez?

Well I might take a train
I might take a plane, but if I have to walk
I'm going just the same
I'm going to Kansas City, Kansas City here I come
They got some crazy lil' women there
And I'm gonna get me one.

Dangit Wilbert, ya don't need no train, plane, you're only like 5 miles from the ballpark. Heck, everything is up to date in Kansas City, fetch an Uber or a Lyft.

Oh but you know yeah

Now if I stay with that woman, I know I'm gonna die
Gotta find a brand new baby
That's the reason why
I'm going to Kansas City, Kansas City here I come

Whatever Wilbert, we just need to turn this thing around. They've heard all year "you can't do it, heck you only won fitty-six games last year."  Nope, huh uh. Team meeting, pass out a ton of 'Q Tips', get that crap outta your ear.

They got some crazy lil' women there and I'm gonna get me one

They got some crazy lil' women there and I'm gonna get me one
They got some crazy lil' women there and I'm gonna get me one

You do you Wilbert, it's all good. Hey guys?  Crank a little Aerosmith. Wacha This Way mebbe. Thin Lizzy, right Issie? Mebbe Maikel Row The Boat Ashore? Howabout We Are Phamily, eh Tommy? McArthur Park?

To git ridda the vermin (right Fermin) we gotta start with a Sethoscope. Need a shrink? Call in Frazier.

We don't need no stinking badges, or, a Lynch mob...a Lynchpin will do, Si, Daniel?

Chow down first, maybe some Foot Longs (Sam, you grab em), try a little DeJong mustard atop...some Cole slaw... give em allya got. Build the bodies, start Loftin homers.

It's far from over. We ain't heard no fat lady Singer.

Levity. Mebbe we just need some humor, Witt, eh Junior?

Maybe I should've been a cowboy, not a blogger.

Let's win today, go back to Kansas City tomorrow for a Chief's win (Mahomes, Mahomes on the range)

Thanks for not swattin' me.

Anybody here, seen my old friend Pasquatch?

Love, Victurd

(Blog done on Android phone using 71 yr old eyes, sorry about quality, lack thereof.)