It's strange, but it really ain't.
Each blog.
Each day....
They start the same don't they? Kinda sorta. There's a white box I'm to fill. I presume it's 8 and 1/2 by 11, but hell, I'm old, I've got the font on 125% so I can see, so, I ain't real sure.
We awaken. Usually the same spot, place. Then, we take on the day, write? I mean, right?
Then....... we're to fill the day. Or, the page.
Is that exciting? Boring? Same ole same ole? Depressing? Joyous?
You'll have to pardon me. Well, you don't I guess, but, the vely wunnerful thing about writing a blog is, I getta write, whatever I feel... sure, you can think, whatever you want (up to and including "seeya later Victor, this is boring as hell." Or, "you stupid idiot, YOU'RE WRONG ABOUT THAT!"
Pardon me because I've had 6 cups of coffee. Oft times, that means, between sentences, trips to the john. I won't announce when I go though, that's reserved for women. VICTOR you dayum MISOGYNIST! Am not. Use your ears, eyes, observe. Women announce when they go....... pee pee in the pot'tay. I ain't sure why, but they do.
Pardon me because, coffee, leads to (yes, pee... but also) thoughts bouncing like - remember the Jiffy Pop thingy you put on the stove.. cranked the heat.. and pop pop pop pop pop, allofasudden you gotta round mound of aluminum with popped corn underneath?
That, those kernels.. are us in the morning. What am I gonna do today? Oh wait, lemme think... oh yeah.. Saturday... it's Saturday... Where's my (robe, glasses, teeth, dog, cat, mate, kid(s)???? What's my (attitude...plans... tummy feel like.. bank balance.. name, who's my daddy..)
When I woke up this morning.. Victor, STOP. We don't care. BRB.
There... I knew it was up there somewhere.. "the vely wunnerful thing about writing a blog is, I getta write, whatever I feel."
My first thought... (actually there are some everyday thoughts... pee... coffee.. coffee first if I ain't doin' the pee pee dance... same bat channel to ogle at the same perty news anchor I've ogled at for 20 years... [damnit, it's Saturday, she's off]... then... I thought about 'STARE' and staring. Title was gonna be "It's impolite to stare."
And then it happened. No, that ain't it. But, I did.. I did then think "mebbe... but... isn't life all about staring, looking out, taking in, cipherin'.. we do it all day... most every day...
I dabbled a bit on "Why people stare".... they think you're beautiful. Putting a face to a name. They see you and wanna be you. Ha. They are judging you. Hell to the yes. You have something on your face. HA. Or, your zipper is down. (I love texting that across the room to good friends.) They want you to look at them.
I thought about me, the simpleton, mostly village idiot. I stare, close your ears, at beauty. I mean, why not? I ain't taken. Close your ears again. I know what the Book says.. however, I stared, ogled at beauty when I was 'taken'. Of course no touchy. I kinda think it's 'human'. You can say you don't, but, I no believey you. I hope, whilst you stare, your pants catch fire.
I stare for tons of reasons. I love people watching (staring). Mark, set, go, I stare out at life for HAPPY. Like spilt syrup at the Awful Waffle, it rubs off on your sleeve. Happy does.
I usually enjoy the unusual. Huh? Uh huh, I do. I try to plop my fat butt in other people's shoes... think, "I wonder what it's like to be them?" I enjoy looking out, asking/thinking "Why is he/she happy, sad, quiet, bored, fidgety, sweaty, all-dressed-up?
I love FINDING A SMILE. (Scroll to awful waffle rubs off on sleeve, or, in this case, face.) I collect 'em, and try as I might, give 'em back. I slip. I fail, but I try. You? Sure ya do.
I thought... "Victor, consider your audience before you write... if you're gonna write about staring across the room... having that "oh baby, man is she perty.." pitter patter... pant... breathless.. feelings" - REMEMBER, your audience is roughly your age, and... most, have been staring at the same partner for decades and decades.
I thought about that. I did. And my answer was, is... WHAT BETTER? What better than to stare across the (living room, kitchen, den, backyard, porch).. stare deep.. and just smile and think about that life together... think about how much you love them, in spitea the trials, tribulations, arguments, stupid things said, how you've seen them in their finest moment.. and, in their most embarrassing, perhaps not so perty/handsome, moment.
I like all that. A lot. Color your self - your day, happy. I ain't jealous, envious. I'm happy for you. Truly.
Staring is... the remote control for our brain. Whatever, whenever.. we want. Yain't even gotta ask, "Hone y, whadda you wanna watch?" before changin' 'channels'... stare out... far out... at... whateverinthehell ya wanna.
Go stare at children. Grandchildren. Sure to bring a smile. Remember, that's why we're on the planet. (Gee thanks Joel Victurd Osteen )
For my, our visually impaired friends... you're amazing. One buddy... gradually lost his sight. "Vic, I remember you, what you looked like. What everyone looked like." Thank goodness he had that time to stare.. You, all of you, are amazing because your other senses step up - and we can't hold a candle to your collective awareness of life and the goings on. Kudos, and Bless you.
I've bored you before.. on... "The best advice I ever got from a boss."... It was when I taught Elementary PE of all things. My building Principal told me, reminded me, "Catch 'em doing good."
That, to me anyways, carries over into life, staring. Catch life being good, happy, fun. Or, stare until you find something that really does interest you, perk you.
Staring, finding that good, happy... to me... it's better'n any of them help-me-be-happy pills they make.
Best part... it's free.
Next best part... we can weed out the yuck and throw it in the shredder.
VICTOR....
Yes?
Whatinthehell are you looking at?
Any. Thing. I. Want. That. Makes. Me. Happy. Smile. That. All that. And yes, all of us can still do that pitter patter thing.
LOOK OUT! And, have a lovely day.,,
Love, Victurd
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