I resolve to.....

Thank everyone that's ever been here.

Thanks to everyone that's ever been here.

Never again get mad, throw a golf club when we are divvying up teams and I'm picked last in the weekly senior golf scramble. Honest Charlie, it wasn't on purpose.

Laugh when I know I should but ain't feeling it.

Never pass go to collect $200 and I've walked right past a hound dog without petting it. (One exception, and that's the understandidly protective Buddy when he's sitting on my Outlaw Sister's lap.)

Be nice or shut my trap.

Challenge when someone is being wronged.

Eat basically whateverinthehell I want wheneverinthehell I want.  So I die a day, a week, or a month or two earlier.

Go to the gym as often as I can.  Every fifth or so time, in addition to jacuzzi and sauna, I might walk 30 minutes.  It's really difficult to visit, meet new people when one is moving.

Reply, when asked, "Howya doin?" with every positive vibe that's sifted through my day.

Listen, when I ask, "Howya doin", stand back, and if negative Nellie's are included in their answer (my damn boss..  SIL, bursitis,  arthritis, yada) IMMEDIATELY, take my shoe off. Works, dunno why. Confuses, takes their (raging) train of thought away, silence wins out.

Take joy in interacting with little ones... the leaders of our tomorrow.  Exciting to invasion the life steps they'll take in days ahead.

Save pics of friends, family, coworkers, all loved ones, in my 'eye cloud' for future reflection,  remembrance. 

Remember as best I can in the fleeting 'this too shall pass' wonderful moments... and also, forget, the yuck 'this too shall pass' sad, bad, patooey moments.

Spread love, all kinds.

Compliment when it ain't cheesy or forced.

Take back roads. 

Not overspend. 

Collect mores friends.

Spend time with the ones I got.

Fling the L word.

Ok, Love.

Continue the realization, I, you, everyone, is perfectly imperfect.

Stay up until midnight, and 12:01am, 2025.

Lie, just one more time this year.

Happy New Year,

Love, Victurd 

Oh the weather outside is.............. foggy.....

At least it is right here in River City.....

Frankly my dear, looking out across America, it's kinda poopy most places.  The map designates I'm staring at are rain, rain/thunderstorms, mixed precipitation, heavy rain/flash flooding possible, heavy snow possible, freezing rain possible, and severe thunderstorms possible. (The National Weather Service missed the fog, designate, but, I reckon we can see {or not} how that happened.)

Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives.

It's the enda the year.  Major networks will have shows recapping big events of 2024....  In the backa our minds, we're left with "I wonder what will happen next year?"

Pete and RePete were in a boat.  Pete fell out, who was left?  RePete.

Pete and RePete were in a boat.  Pete fell out, who was left?  Victor, need I remind you I'm old, I ain't got time for that crap (scroll to your hourglass example.)  On with it.

I was making a point, sorry.....  It's duly noted, when predicting tomorrow, that similar will happen into the future.  

Example, that weather crap.  Babies are born, old folks leave us, weddings occur, court proceedings happen, almost half will not like the sitting President, planes crash, cars wreck, most days, there is breaking news.  Sometimes ugly, sometimes not.

When my peepers opened this morning, after coffee, striking out on Wordle (I'll NEVER play that game again), ABC had a recap of 2024.  Lightbulb in brain said "research Nostradamus, blog about him."

I tried.  He tried, but he couldn't do it, no one can eat just one.  No Victor, that was Lays potato chips, this is Nostradamus.  OK, thanks.  Frito Lay drivers close your ears:  I couldn't do it now because I can't afford Lay's, or Fritos, Doritos, yada... it's Always Save or Great Value.  Xplain Victor.

I wasn't, ain't an academician.   I read (Pete and RePeted) Wiki's thingy on Nostra'.. fell asleep three times.. reached the conclusion, "I don't wanna do this" (study him).  So you're safe,  I ain't predicting the future....... other than......

More of the same.   Babies will lay on a blanket until such n such, then, parents work off early middle age fat by chasing, following them around the house to ensure they don't gobble on electrical cords, and "WHAT DO YOU HAVE IN YOUR MOUTH!"

Back to school shopping affords the coolest backpack, so they will PLEASE go to school willingly.  At some teen age, signifiant physical change happens due to puberty, growth spurts, acne, emotional changes, increased independence, authority is questioned, stronger focus on peer relationships, and then "I want the new iPhone 15 Pro, it's only $784 on Amazon, oh, and, can I have the car keys?"

Victor, you skipped temper tantrums in the Wally World checkout line, oh, and soccer, baseball games, Scouts.........OK OK OK, I get it.  Much is predictable. 

Love happens.  Love hurts, or not.  Lucky in love.  Get the hell outta my house  Hell to the no, you're 8 months behind on child support, you ain't getting Jimmy this weekend."

Victor, that's pretty extreme.  Uh huh, tis.  Scroll to that weather map, ugly stuff allover, WITH, the exception of San Diego, Hono, yada.  Hey, but they still make lemonade, ie, hop on the ground, make snowangels.  Life is interesting, fun.

Middle age.  Not tonight honey, we just did last Tuesday.  My back hurts.  Let's go to the Ozarks. No.  I'm going to play golf.  Bunko for me, which, we've decided to rename our group "LDC", ladies drinking club and drop the Bunko mask.

A few years later, the computer, each, every morning when one awakens, shows the "this many days until retirement", take this job and shove it.

Elder parents ail, leave.

We become elder parents.

It ain't all ugly.  We love.  We hug.  We oh baby oh baby. Not as frequently, but, when we're up for it, pun mebbe intended.  We laugh with our family, our folks, grandparents, friends, coworkers, the Quickstore person we see daily... we talk to Mr./Mrs. Nextdoor, Downthestreet, we take drives, vacations, dinners out, Holidays with fam.  Life, the dinner table, full of yummy.  Every year Mr. Nostradamus.

Victor?  Yeah?  Is there a purpose to all this crap?  Not purposely, no.

Our teams will win, and they will lose.  Bitter rivals will rub it in, paybacks are fun.  We'll laugh at movies, fall asleep on the couch watching a show on TV.

We'll have flat tires, snap serpentine belts, listen to the brakes squeal louder, and louder.  Our pets will allow us to live in their house, and we only go along with that because they're here for sucha short time.  We'll have rainbow bridge tears.

We reach an age........ well, at least I do.  EVERY time I walk into WallyWorld, I walk around the aisles until I see someone older than me before I shop.  I do.  Victor, no you don't.  DO TOO. NUH UH.  Need I remind you, you started using the electric cart thingy a couple years back?  OK OK, when I walk into WallyWorld (I get me a cart) and then roll around until I see someone older than me. I do.  Thank you.

Grunts are now associated, commonplace with getting up or getting down.  Pee pee dances are common, please pray for those (of us) with nephropathy.. 

Loneliness is bound to happen.  A life lesson I heard long ago..... to have a friend, be a friend.  Text, call, go see, hug, reminisce, yada.  All that leads to smiles and us internally thinking "I'm so glad you're here (and me too!}"

Names will pop up of folks that are no longer here.  Sadly, this happens more and more frequently.  Moments happen where you think "Gosh, if only we could visit one more time."  Can't.  At least here ya can't.

I'm very thankful you were here in 2024 and I (the GLW) look forward to our 2025 interactions.

And golf.  Work.  Lasagna.  Breakfast out.  Sex. BRB, gotta look that one up.  Asking fellow old farts in carts at Wally "Wanna race?"  And, ahm, excuse me, what year did you graduate?

Fog.  I even like fog.

Love, Victurd

MVP? Lamar? Josh Allen? Mahomes? NOPE, meet Scrim!

 

He's with the New Orlean Saints.  Well, kinda.  He's presently a 'Free Agent.'

Anyone know my 'Outlaw Sister?'  Well, she loves dogs and that's putting it very mildly.  She'd home 4,000 of em if she could and she's probably helped that many find homes in her 60+ years here on Earth. Oh, and she feeds deer in her driveway EVERY morning, uh huh, including her favorite, 'Honey', who only has one eye.

VICTOR?  The HECK does this have to do with Scrim?

Trust me, I'll get there. Meet Michelle Cheramie.  She's like my 'Outlaw' SIL in her canine love.

She lives in NOLA, has traded her several degree career to open (with her hubby) Zues' Rescues dog adoption agency. 

Not much good came from Katrina in 2005, Michelle and her hubby lost everything that wasnt in their truck - but, she could steer a boat and she knew streets without the street signs.... so, Michelle to the rescue, many (not barking up tree for pun, promise.)

They also now groom hounds so they'll have money to fill bowls with Alpo and OLD Roy, as well as Cheerios and Raviolios for themself.  I don't know that (Cheerios, Raviolios) for a fact, but, FOOD, hopefully you get the idea.

Victor? SCRIM!

Borrowing from Alvin the chipmunk, "OOOOOOKKKKK!"

Way back in the Fall of 2023,  Michelle rescued Scrim from a suburban 'kill shelter.'

Finally, in April, Michelle found a home for the wiry, white terrier mix with the radar ears.

Scrim no likey containment. He bootscooted his new home, soon.  Michelle surmises he's scared, figures he was perhaps abused.

Scrim went on the lam for SIX MONTHS.  Feeling somewhat personally responsible, and fearing the worst might happen to Scrim, she virtually convinced the whole dang city to keep an eye out.

Over 400 sightings, many live, many via Ring cameras, are now being charted online in hopes of pinpointing the little dudes whereabouts.

As word spread, many put food bowls on their porch, and he was photographed multiple times chowing down at various houses.  Michelle begged folks not to chase Scrim for fear of him getting hit by a car.

One October day, a caller spotted Scrim, Michelle hustled across town, tranquilizer gun in hand. She'd been shooting guns her entire life but had nevershot a living thing.  She "had to psych myself out to shoot something I cared so much about."

Aimed yep. To vet where they found two pellets where Scrim had been shot before. Scrim was cared for, kenneled back to Michelle's house - "Never a gun again, I'll shoot nets if it happens again.

So?  She finds another home?Scrim happy, Paul Harvey, good day?"

Ahm, close your canine teeth there blog reader. Nope, Scrim, a hound of many Zip Codes, found an open window.... 2nd floor,thirteen feet off the ground. Yep, on the lam again, Scrim can't wait to get on the lam again.

Months, many spottings, no capture. That's the way, uh huh uh huh, he likes it.

Christmas Eve, no reported spotting for over 40 hours. Thinking the worst, then holy guacamole, boo koo sightings.

The City's celebratory resident fireworks propelled Scrim 3.3 miles on the way out of town... cameras found him safe, healthy..

To date, Scrim still roams. He's even been selected to be the mascot for the upcoming Celebrate Canal. His face will be on signs and decorations soon.

Residents are torn between hoping he stays a wild canine destined for a feral life (Michelle has personally received threats and several mean [unfounded] reports of "he's dead at such-n-such location"). .   And others, hope he's caught, found, for his own good.

Of course we all hope for a good closure, especially Michelle, who will never give up looking, hoping.

 Ya gotta love Scrim's spirit (Michelle's too.)

Love, Victurd

Gregory Boulevard on the north to 91st Street on the south, and Troost Ave on the east to State Line on the west.

Huh?

The heck are you giving GPS-like kinda stuff on Christmas Eve?

Shouldn't you lend your annual reminder that this is a tough time for so many, and, think of maybe 'who' that might encompass within your world, and, to be sure to check in with them during the Holidays?

Well, you just did that for me, TY.

Ain't this where you should once again paint the picture of Christmas past, and, over the river and thru the woods to Grandmother's house we go, and how YUMMY it was?

Well, you kinda paint by the numbers did that one for me too... I trust we all, or at least most, have those wonderful memories.

Then, what's up with graphing that area, those coordinates?

Cinchy, it's where Waldo is (in Kansas City.)

Huh?

Yeah, "Where's Waldo?"

Ahm, Victor?  Price of tea, China?

Well, it's 169.99 yuan per kilogram, ha!

I had a dream.

By all means, I think, share your dream MLK-Victurd.

My dream, and it's been a dream for a long, long time, is to buy a safe vehicle where I could sleep, camp, explore, get the hell outta Dodge and live the Willie Nelson life of On The Road Again.

Don't take this personally Victurd, but oft times your words are more difficult to add up than Common Core Math.  Can we start with the "Where's Waldo?" thing first?

SURE!

Money.  To do what I wanna do, well, IF I had a banker, he'd laugh at me.  

So, I dreamed I was in a Hollywood movie... no, wait, that ain't it.

I thought about intersections, cardboard and magic marker, but that ain't real original.

I ain't got an artistical bone in my body, so, making cute trinkets, doilees to sell at local fairs, festivals is out too.

GoFundMe?  Cheesy.

Where's Waldo, GoFindMe.

I drive, I blog, I write stupid, corny stuff, along with sharing geographical points, buildings, roads, yada, then you Venmo a dollar with your guess as to "Where's Victurd?"

If your guess is correct, we split the accrued amount. You happy,  I happy,  belly full, on the road again, more stupid stuff, more coordinates. 

Victor, do you remember when one of your ex's told you "Victor, not everyone gets as excited about your ideas as you do."?  I've never been married,  no idea what you're talking about.  Ahm, your nose is growing Victurd.

WINNER WINNER CHICKEN WINNER,  or, well, half of the very first GoFindMe accrued amount, as, the first coordinate is Colodi, in Tuscany, Italy, "the birthplace of Pinnochio!"

Ahm, Victor. I suggest you stock up on cardboard, Magic markers, beads and strands, that game don't sound no fun. I ain't payin'.

Damnit darnit, OK.  But crap, I had already planned my GoFindMe itenery, first stop was Weiner, Arkansas, then onto Lick Skillet, Alabama, then, Santa Claus, Indiana...Hell, Michigan... Boring, Oregon... Intercourse, Pennsylvania (imagine the clues!).. Booger Hole, West Virginia.  Your loss!

I guess instead I'll wait until I find me a rich, divorced, blonde, hard of hearing, doesn't speak English, fine lady to go along with me on the venture. Not optimistic though, been waiting for her for 20 years.

I'd be the Adam to her Eve. 

GoFindMe

Merry Christmas... Eve

Love, Victurd

Twoday.. Don't ya mess with my two two.

Two. To. Too.

Two in the bush... peas in a pod.  Two to tango.. Two-step. Two dolla bill. Two am. 

Toes on the line, two points, sorry, not really.  I'll gladly pay you Twosday for a hamburger twoday.

Goody two shoes. Just the two of us. Love me two times. Two out if three ain't bad.  It is said the #2 song of all time is The Twist. If I recall, we all (4th grade class) got TWO swats apiece for doing The Twist in the dodgeball circle, Franklin Elementary, circa 196Two.

Move on Victor, two much.

Two bad, bite me, twice.

YES, two days until you know what. Men, twoday, start texting "whaddaya want? What size(s) do you wear?" Shop, twomorrow.

Women, two by two, fill the aisles at The Piggly Wiggly.

Kids, watch them dayum kids, they start feely grabbing gifts with their name on em, trying to cipher just exactly what is in the innards. 

 Cousins, Aunt's, uncles, sibs, steps, granny's, gramps, many, already in motion, more than two modes, planes, trains, automobiles. (May he RIP, John Candy, taken way two soon.)

Two: ҩба (Abkhazian).. اثنين (Arabic).. deux (French).. хоёр (Mongolian)..  dwa (Polish)..

Vincent Van Gogh... sorry, just seeing if you were still listening.

Last name Starving, table for two please.

Two much. Two easy.  Two soon.. Two bad, so sad.  Two slow, take an elbow, right Vince?  Oh, sorry, I'll type louder.

We have two ears and one mouth so we can listen twice as much as speak. (Victor, you say his name again I am outta here.)

"Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead." Ben Franklin

"Between two evils, I pick the one I've never tried before."  Mae West

Just my two cents.

Twone (pronounced 'tune') in twomorrow when it might be all about Eve.

Wow, i've really gotta go number... ahm, nevermind.

Honey?  Will you grab some TP at the Piggly?

The damn relatives (said lovingly) are coming.  One if by land, two if by sea.

Happy day two you,

Love, Victurd (HONEY? CAN YOU HURRY?)

Why don't you stay, just a little bit longer...

Said no relative to other relative after credit carded Amazon Prime wrapped gifts had been shredded, a shrewd Granny had folded up any reusable paper, Grands, had grabbed, selected THE loudest toys and were parading them around the entire house past skeered hound pooches and hidden kitties. Oldsters, under their breath hollered "Quit acting your age!"

VICTOR?

Ahm, yes?  Is your real name Ebenezer? 

Ha. OK, I'm just kidding.  I will admit there are probably differing views about the length of the family Christmas.  I remember as a child wishing it would end sometime in March.

I remember early inlaw Christmas 's where I was still kinda uncomfortable, and, ready to march.

Nineteen fitty three, Maurice Williams was fitteen.  He penned a song hoping to entice his gf to stay (past her 'Be home by 10' deadline), just a little bit longer.

Took awhile, but, in 1960 it became THE US Billboard #1 hit...didn't stay a real long time as Elvis's Are You Lonesome Tonight replaced it.

"In my seventies, I exercised to stay ambulatory. In my eighties, I exercise to avoid assisted living."

Dick Van Dyke

Stay around awhile, the quotes get worse.

"Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight."

Phyllis Diller

Toldya.

It seems, the Grands will continue their Formula One Pace until they drop, or, whenever Uncle Charlie, by now unfurled in the recliner, closes his eyelids.

The best, it seems, are the visits by cousins, siblings, BIL's, SIL's after the Grands are all nestled snug in their beds, and, after the SMTWTFS pillboxes of the old farts were emptied, and they too, zonked in the 2nd, 3rd bedrooms.

As the hounds and the kitties tepidly make their way back from hiding places, in hopes of not a creature stirring, but hopefully maybe a mouse... exhausted young parents stayed up, mostly until the wee hours - relating tales of almost getting caught playing Santa, downing a beer or three, a glass of wine or champagne, or, Heaven forbid, eggnog (eww).

Children have it ingrained, "it will stay like this forever....won't it?"

The 30, 40, fitty year olds encircled around the table have succeeded in making their own children's memories as wonderful as theirs... they too, without realization, believe they'll be in that late night seat for years and years - when in fact, it's fleeting.

The oldsters, by now in their REM's, Depends, snore away preciously, not long after a prayer of thanks for living this long, getting to see their kids be Santa, and, the large beautiful eyeballs of their Grands.

Why don't you stay...  just a little bit longer.. .

Live, Victurd 

Christmas is coming, I've never eaten goose but I am getting fat.

This and that:

Tradition was, and I guess still is - in Germany, the UK, to have goose as fare for Christmas.  Not so much in the US.

Love SHOULD BE the MO this week, BUT, I just watched the weather...the next week the high temps started with a 3, 4 and 5.  To anyone who has 6, 7 and 8, I hate you.

This weekend, and next weekend are predicted to be 'the worst two driving weekends of the year', whatever that means.

I'm gonna preach. OH PLEASE NO VICTURD!  It's not like you think. Instead of a gofundme to finance wine, beer, fatty foods, I'm gonna get ordained online and marry folks, my get (sauced, fat) rich scheme.

JK.

Please know, and I know you do but, we all need reminders.

While this is certainly a Blessed time of year it is, can be very sad, mournful - and many, mask it, dont/won't discuss - but it's there and it's real.

Every where we go there are reminders.  I had the privilege of being in a relationship for several years with a really cool person who happened to be widow. Without any warning, songs, dates, aromas, much - would bring unexplained tears that somehow didn't need explained.

Love and support- good gosh hug and love every opportunity we get.

Off pulpit. Going out and about to drive like an idiot with the rest of em.  Get me some breakfast,  get fatter, and to dodge goose poop.  Seems the fatter they get, the more they poop.

Smiles, sometimes, can be apparel.  Love them, sure, but, love the underneath as well.

Love, Peace and Soul, 

Victurd

Ser de verdad

Ser de verdad (Be for real)

¿Debería quedarme o debería irme (Should I stay or should I go?)

Feliz navidad (Merry Chritmas)

Esa mierda (That crap)

And no, I don't think Christmas is crap.. a figure of speech so to speak. 

This morning as I read the paper, coffee-ed, made paths to/from john,  BE FOR REAL continually crossed my brain. 

I, personally,  think BE FOR REAL, is the end all/be all, Pat, I'd like to buy a vowel, phone a friend, PERFECT, entitled answer for us old farts.

In a World of multiple choice, there is:

A. Yes

B. No

C. (In keeping up with the times) I prefer not to answer

and...

D. BE FOR REAL (Ser de verdad)

Baby it's cold outside, wanna go to the grocery store?  Be for real.

Hey, that movie we've been wanting to watch is at our theater...starts at 9:50pm. Wanna?  AHM, BE FOR REAL.

Tell the kids we'll watch our grands all of next week, take em bowling, to the bounce palace, the zoo, come home, make cookies, blanket forts, monopoly, jinga, smores and other fun stuff?  Ser de verdad ('Are you crazy' might be a fair alternative but I don't know that one in Spanish.)

I don't know about you, and maybe this is being selfish (don't care), I lean toward 'I'll do what I want, when I want.' Look that one up in your funk y wagnall.

Me? I'm tired. 

Friends?  Loved ones? Bless them.

(A few years back) "For quite a few reasons, I'm  going to take in, raise our grandson." My ex, bless her, truly.

"Honey, even though we're 70-something and we've got two, beautiful, but perhaps energetic (rambunctious) Weimaraners, wanna get another?"

How did that old age multiple choice answer go?  Yes... No.. I prefer not to answer.. be for real. Bless them, they picked yes.

I had coffee with a gal a few years back. Very much enjoyed, I think, each. Then, I observed her. She goes, nonstop. If she ain't got her grandsons strapped in, headed for Union Station, Pomme, museums, fairs, trains, trampoline joints, anywhichwhere.... she's off by herself, hiking, exploring, around rattlers, gators, bears, even worse perhaps, creepy strangers ("not afraid, I carry")... I'm kinda glad she opted not to go out again with this afflicted idiot. I could just see, hear myself answering each outing offer with..."ahm, be for real, I'm a dinosaur, slow one at that."

That's about it today, sorry, kinda. The Spanish crap is because, while I've listened to the lyrics of the song "Should I stay or should I go?" a kajillion times, I didn't remember they repeated each line in Spanish. I'm so po' I can't afford to pay attention.

Bless those of you who have an ounce of spunk in your old self. Me and Motel 6 have elected, stay, be for real, we'll leave the light on.

Victor, after reading this nonsensical blog we kinda wish you'd selected 'I prefer not to answer.'

Bite me, in Spanish (muérdeme)

"The snow is accumulating,  roads are very slick. If you don't have to get out, please stay home!"  Now THAT, is a different story! Waffle House, here I come!

Love, Victurd

Rhyme. Reason.

The man was fat.

He wore a hat.

You can leave your hat on.

I'm lost Victor?

Me too. It's always scary when I click 'new post' and I ain't got no rhyme or reason of what to write about.

Hat crossed my brain.  Read a few college sports postings about players transferring out, in, or, opting not to play in Bowl game for fear of getting hurt, possibly removing any chance of playing in the NFL.  That reason, I understand....  but,

High school dude sits at table during a school assembly in his/her honor. Half dozen hats infronta em. Picking college. Pick up one, oohs and aahhs, nope, set it back down. Same with a second hat, then finally, their actual pick, hat placed on their head, cheers abound. Reasons unknown.

Then, transfer portal happens. Reasons:  hangnail.. my gf transferred to State..  the coach looked at me funny... really, I was better than Charlie...  I didn't like the offense, defense, weight room,  money, dorm, Cafeteria food, ahm 

STOP!  In the name of love Victurd?  NO!  In the name of loyalty!  YOU CAN LEAVE YOUR HAT ON.

Of course, pain from my sciatic led to thoughts of the attic.

Huh?  I see the rhyme Victurd.   The reason?

The state of college sports makes me need Pepto Bismal.  Patooey.

So, I wondered about attics. Stuff folks find.

Weird Victor, but ok... like?

Well, Boggess Hardware, right here in good ole Liberty, MO. After they went outta business they found a brand new Model T Ford in the attic. In a wooden crate.

Another lady, 12 years after her divorce, found her ex living in the attic.  Uh huh. He spent years in prison, got out... she'd notice missing food from fridge..  toilet lid left up. Cash disappearing. Uh huh, she found him, two years after he moved in.

Findings elsewhere: Mummies, bats, petrified rats, cats.  Hitler's music collection.  

The violin that the band leader played on the infamous Titanic in 1912. Nuh uh. Uh huh. Seems it was found afloat, near (or strapped too..differing stories) Wallace Hartley. Returned to his fiance who had bought it for him.  She passed in 1939, her sister gave it to the Salvation Army, they passed it on to a violin teacher, he passed it on further.  Was found in an attic in the UK in 2004. Authenticated, sold at auction in 2013 for $1.13 million. 

In 2012 Karl Kissner was cleaning out his aunt's attic, lo and behold, 700 baseball cards from 1910, the likes of Cy Young, Ty Cobb, Honus Wagner, etc.  Yep, $3 mil at auction. 

My favorite, and damn the luck I can't find the article. A couple was exploring the attic of the house they'd purchased, found a huge, neatly preserved pile of love letters, wrapped in a ribbon, that were to, and from a World War I soldier and his beloved girlfriend back in the US.

There was nothing vulgar or sexual within the letters, simply STRONG thoughts, words of love.

Turns out, he returned from the war, they married, had two children but he passed sometime in the late 30's.

She lived another 50 years. Sure, she had suitors, but never married as none were as special as what she, he shared, lived.  There was one last, more recent letter in the pile.  It was written shortly before she died, expressing her happiness to soon join him again.

Victurd, a blog that's absurd.

Nice ryhme, but no reason to boo me.

Ok. You can leave your hat on then.

Forward by The NCAA NIL committee...

And, Atticus Finch

Love, Victurd

Nip it...

Nip it in the bud!

Ya gotta love Barney Fife... well, I guess ya don't gotta, but if ya don't, (my opine) yaint got much sense of humor.... or, you're too young to remember black and white TV, or, that wonderful whistlin' theme song.

We've got trouble. (Oh we got trouble).  Right here in River City. (Right here in River City?)

OK, follow me... (Up and down, Victurd?)

Ahm no.  My Choo choo train of thought.

Liberty USEDTA BE a River City. Then, sometime between Lewis & Clark and Donald Trump, they moved the Missouri River.

Nuh uh.. 

Uh huh, did.

There was a big old bend, uniquely known as 'Liberty Bend', they rerouted the river... bypassing our fine City.  Damnit darnit. Just think, had they not, we might be talking about The Liberty Chiefs, The Liberty Royals and Liberty International Airport.  Hell, I'd vote, "tear out the old Safeway...take Co-op too if ya want, need, build that dayum downtown ballpark raaaht ther!

But all that crap ain't where I was going.

So, Victurd, a bend in your story, so to speak?

Ha, reasonably clever, don't let it go to your head.

Back to Barney.... NIP IT, and, the artist (oops, town) formally known as River City.

I have 'blurt' issues.  Most of the time it's because I can't help but be a smartass...no, not you? (With mock disbelief).. such as, Victurd?

Well, geezer golf. Those of us (who lived black and white TV) gather, draw straws, play a mostly fun game of golf.  There's big Ron and little Ron, both great guys. Little Ron is the one that reminds me of Tim Conway.  If you recall, each time we wind up on same team, I blurt, "Damnit, now I gotta have fun."

Little Ron doesn't care about his lack of height, but pretends so, defends so.  One day, shortly after golf, someone hollered "hey there's  an SUV with its lift gate up in the parking lot.".. "That's little Ron's car." Blurt happened, "He can't reach it, can someone help him?" Some geezer blogger, er, golfer said.

Tom, the leader of the pack (of geezer golfers.. imagine hearing revved up motorcycle engines here, like the song.) Tom is our leader.  He's our age (fellow geezer) and is/was doing the Match.com thing.

After quite a few dates with the same gal. ..  he told us they were off to Branson for the weekend. No one blurted, but Tom sensed the need to offer, "we're getting two motel rooms."

Fast forward a month, it was announced a marriage was upcoming. After a geezer congrats toast, handshakes, pats on the back... blurt happened.... mighta been little Ron, can't remember... "ya sure that was two rooms in Branson?"

Those. Those kinda blurts, fun, upbeat, hopefully harmless - I love.

Another bend to story.

This is where I get serious and again admit I struggle.  The older I get, it seems, whenever I see, hear something "that ain't right', is, potentially harmful, I have trouble keeping my yap shut.

I do. 

I have trouble with "just shudup", don't throw gas on a fire.. or, "hell yes, blurt...may hurt one or two but, needs to be said, ie, water on that fire.

I do both. Blurt, then worry about it for 6 years.... and, I don't, then call myself a wussy for 3 years. 

After years and years of practice, I could juggle three hacky sacks fairly decently.

When it comes to blurt, I almost always drop the ball.

I have SO many strong friends who always seemingly deal with blurt properly...ie, either saying the right thing, harmless to no one..  or, simply offer no reply at all when that's deemed best.

Bend me shape me any way you want me, long as you love me it's alright.

Enjoy your day, and... Life's juggles.

Going to nip it now.

Love, Victurd

Daddy sang bass.....

I remember when I was a lad
Times were hard and things were bad
But there's a silver linin' behind every cloud
Just poor people, that 's all we were
Tryin' to make a living out of black-land dirt
But we'd get together in a family circle singing loud

Daddy sang bass, mama sang tenor
Me and little brother would join right in there
Singing seems to help a troubled soul
One of these days and it won't be long
I'll rejoin them in a song
I'm gonna join the family circle at the throne

No, the circle won't be broken
By and by, Lord, by and by
Daddy sang bass, mama sang tenor
Me and little brother would join right in there
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

Now I remember after work, mama would call in all of us
You could hear us singing for a country mile
Now little brother has done gone on
But I'll rejoin him in a song
We'll be together again up yonder in a little while

Daddy sang bass, mama sang tenor
Me and little brother would join right in there
'Cause singing seems to help a troubled soul
One of these days and it won't be long
I'll rejoin them in a song
I'm gonna join the family circle at the throne

Oh no, the circle won't be broken
By and by, Lord, by and by
Daddy sang bass, mama sang tenor
Me and little brother would join right in there
In the sky, Lord, in the sky
In the sky, Lord, in the sky

Sorry,  kinda, to display the entire lyrics without me throwing in something goofy, but, figured it'd be best to get to the point.

Christmas, especially, is a reminder to the above - loss, wonderful voices no longer audible here..  only in our recall.

I think we've all been touched by death, loss.  Touched (sorry to cuss) is a really shitty word.. maybe better choice(s)... shocked... overhwelmed..  dumbfounded.. . shattered., crushed... etc.

I'm in Johnny's shoes in that both parents and a sibling are gone...  Selfishly, it is, can be a sad time.  I bow in prayer to my friends who have lost children, grandchildren, mates... I cannot fathom walking in your shoes.

Christmas is a hurt good time in memory.  Sure, throughout the year, and really throughout life, our eyes focus on the ones gone - but, Christmas tends to accentuate, lift those angels to the top of the tree.  A gift to us without having to wrap or unwrap it.  No clutter - just simply wonderful memories of 'then'.

We've all witnessed horrific things happening to friends, loved one's brains, memory.  That too, being unable to so distinctly remember my/our own immediate family seems unfathomable.  I guess if I/we reach that point, it then wouldn't matter.

Until then....... close or open your eyes, remember the looks, the voice, where they generally sat, the kinds of things they wore.. their smiles..  laughter... bright, beautiful eyes.. keep 'em going in the scrapbook of the brain.

Love, Victurd

All I want for Christmas.

The best that can possibly be for everyone.

For those that are sad, moments of happy tears.

For those that physically hurt, THE most comfortable spot in the house, with the easiest of possible breathing.

To those in present financial struggle, tons of moments of happy,  and the realization that you yourself are a gift and that lavish is unneeded and way overrated.

A pet on your lap, and if that ain't your thing, someone that you can happily pet, or, vice versa.

If a time comes, our upper lips form the snarl of a houndog ready to pounce and engage their eye teeth,  a reminder life is too damn short, and that a smile is the donut tire to that flat (snarl) tire.

Sure, some things, relationships ain't what they usedta be, the ability to simply say and be thankful they once were.

With age, long walks take even longer. What better to take in all the views?

The contagiousness of hugs, laughter, and utterings of happy.

Christmas lights for our eyes, a piece of pie (or two) of our choice, and jammies for comfort after.

In gather, sure, there is difference. Christmas is us, not we/they, them/theirs.

Irregardless of belief, it's a wonderful smorgasbord of happy,  good tidings.

Life, just like us all, is perfectly imperfect. No boxing gloves, terse tongue for any, including ourself, what a wonderfully long season of opportunity for happy,  good.

The best to us all.

Love, Victurd

You're a mean one.......

You really are a heel
You're as cuddly as a cactus
You're as charming as an eel
Mr. Grinch, you're a bad banana
Mr. Grinch, with the greasy black peel

Sometimes, I'm just an old grump, grinch, call it what you will.  I won't argue, unless'n ya make me mad!  I worried about that (for mebbe two minutes)..  Googled, learned, MANY are a grinch, grump - short term.  Usually in the morning.  I'm understanding they call it sleep inertia, which, is basically lowered arousal in the transition from snoozing, to, party on Garth.  Roughly 5 to 20 minutes.

You're a vile one
You got termites in your smile
You have all the tender sweetness
Of a seasick crocodile
Mr. Grinch
You're a foul one
Friends you don't have none
I wouldn't touch you with a 39-and-a-half foot pole!

WHAT?  Some people are actually grumpy, grouchy for longer than the 5-20 minutes after getting up?  Avast, you say some are grumpy ALL the time?  I AM NOT, I'm A pEoPlE pErSoN fOr BeHoOgItY sAkE.  OK, you're right. I have my moments, hours, days......... hush.. did you just say years?

You're a monster
Your heart's an empty hole
You're a goner
You got garlic in your soul
You got garlic in your soul

All them smiles homie
I turn up the frown
All them decorations
I tear em down
You can ask Max, I don't play around
Ayo, eww
Who is this mean fellow
With his skin all green and his teeth all yellow? (Eww)
What you so mad for?
Halloween come around and we ain't knockin' at your door, mane

Investigating this, I'm, what'd you call it?  GRUMPY ALL THE TIME?  Yeah, that.  Google learned me there's 5 reasons why:

Uno:  Burning the midnight oil.  Ha, nonsense.  The only burning I do at night is an occasional light bulb while I'm enroute to pee.  

Dos:  You're hangry.  "The longer you go without food, the crankier you get."  No problemo, just look at my waistline. You feel I needta eat, HOLLER.  I have a baby affliction, but, if you ring dinner bell, watch me run!

Tres:  Caffiene as fuel.  "Nuttin' wrong with a little caffiene to start your day, but, it's possible to rely on it a little too much.  OK OK, I won't drink the entire pot myself....... from now on.  What's 4?

Quatro:  It's that time of the month.  I have no idea whatinthehell you're talking about here. The only thing I can figure is... my SS Check comes on the 3rd Wednesday, so......... yes..  it literally does pee me off when the first Wednesday of the month is the 7th.  WHY, WHY oh why couldn't they send it, say, always on the 15h of every month?  AND, I'm not grumpy on those months when it's NOT my time of the month... usually only a few days prior too the latest possible 3rd Wednesday (the 21st)

Cinco: Underlying mood disorder.  Eh, bite me.  Stick that one up your Funk and Wagnall huh?

Mr. Grinch you're a bad banana
You're gonna spoil everybody with your bad attitude
(Spoil everybody)

Mr. Grinch
La-la-la-la
Who is this mean fellow
With his skin all green and his teeth all yellow?
(La-la-la-la)
What you so mad for?
Halloween come around and we ain't knocking on your door
(La-la)

In all seriousness.. I guess I can do that, be serious. I guess I can be grumpy too.  i try not to be. You?  Being grumpy is like a snowball going down hill... it gathers more and more 'grump'. Grump gets grumpier, ya feel bad about that, the pain escalates. Hard to dig one's self outta grump.  I genuinely love kind, nice, getting along,  Sometimes though, I run inta people, and i wish they'd simply get along, as in, some place else!

Bad banana

Bad blog.  Bad attempt. Sorry.  Gump, and grump, happens.

I gotta admit, mosta the above tongue in cheek.  I do worry about the basic mental state of some, not all, off America.  Social media probably not the place to be - but, I was just reading a page of Facebook where a mom asked for cool Christmas light displays around town were so she could take her kids.  Folks started arguing.  Folks that don't know one another. I don't get it.  Verbal affronts are commonplace any, everwhere nowadays, and, shouldn't be. I miss yesterday, and, feel like we all could do our part in spreading nice so, decency does win out.

Love, Victurd

Where ya going?

I had no idea this was a Dave Mathews song. This ain't what that is about.

The older I get, please close your ears, the more this (someone, anyone, asking) upsets me.

I know some ask without an ounce of 'busybody' within them, moreso out of concern, conversation. One golfing buddy always asks as I raise from my chair.. . And my answer is always the same... "Crazy.... I'm going crazy."  (In reality, ain't we all?")

I didn't know Harriet Oleson (Little House on the Prairie), Ralph Furley (Three's Company), Gladys Kravitz (Bewitched, perhaps the busiest busybody ever) they all had 'the need to know' every which way, when, where of everyone in their lives. Why?

When i usedta be at work and that would happen ('Where ya going?'), I'd take a deep, Welbutrin breath, and, as calmly as I could, reply "Any gosh darn where I want."

Ain't we, age 70-whatever, earned that right?  Victor,  maybe they're just wanting to know in case they need to call in a Silver Alert?  Bite me.

Children. I love my son. We live together, not by his choice, nor mine. 217 times per day he asks "Where ya going?"  

Hey Doc, do they make them Welbutrins chewable? Mint flavored?

Eh, one day we're prolly all gonna be microchipped anyways....  that, or, some day we'll walk in a room, try to remember why, then AI will remind us why.

Borrowing from Carol, "“I’m so glad we had this time together, just to have a laugh or sing a song. Seems we just get started and before you know it, comes the time we have to say so long."

Victurd?

Yes?

Where ya going?

Crazy, I'm going crazy.

By Henry Gibson, RP McMurphy, Chief, Gladys and Karen's everywhere,

Love, Victurd

They deserve a break today.......

The gatherin' place.

Old folks, get up, get out, go, meet.

Same time, same place - daily.  Solve World problems.

Flannel shirt guy was the first onea the lot to come in. "Large coffee please."  I'm a tightwad.  Large coffee is $1.51...  Senior coffee (much smaller cup is $.88 cents.  Refills are free.  Reckon we just missed the Depression, that, or, lazy can/does happen as I followed suit, got the bigger, mo' expensive size.

Ballcap guy next.  Same.  Former TWA dude.  My hearing is good, but it ain't aweseome. First discussion I heard with he and flannel guy "the guy was 70 years old at TW, dunno why he was still working, all he did was come in and talk - why didn't he quit/retire and let someone else have a job."

Second take - I work two days a week at the golf course - pay is less than half of what I usedta make - I can unnerstand the 70 year old guy and his want of going in, saying "Hi", pay me pay me feed me feed me Seymour.

Happy (and pretty) lady comes..... table next to flannel and ballcap guy.  'Brrr... cold out there... starting to snow a bit.".... "Really?," Ballcap guy ssid, "hey, where's whatshisname and I hope he dresses for it."

From yesterday, I remember 'whatshisname' as whatshername's hubby.  Second day in a row, she drove, AND  he drove.. a chair between them.  I reckon, time can divide like that.  I have no idea whatinthehell I'm talking about - but, it is weird in that they kinda act like neighbors insteada honeybuns.

We're up to four grey haired ladies (MISOGYNIST! AM NOT).  One, has a baby streak of pink in it.  Couldn't tell it she was'a wearin' boots, but, I awaited for her to breakout like Nancy Sinatra singing "These boots are made for walkin."  Victor, that's mean.  You'd have to be here.  The lady is LOUD.  VERY loud.  I ain't a fan of loud. I've hung around this town, MIckey D's for a long, long time.  Wearing.  She can be wearing.  Sorry, kinda, not really.

Greyhair #3 brought cookies which brought shreaks of "COOKIES!" 

Younger old guy has now joined Flannel and ballcap at the guy's table.  The four greyhairs at the ladies' table are accompanied by whathisname (a chair 'tween 'em) and pretty in pink's hubby, who, daily, prints his crossword puzzle to complete while the ladies listen to pinky, er, I mean, while the ladies talk.

Guy table has gotten to health talking...... I heard polyp...  Medicare...  changed the rules... Now they're onto colonoscopy and I turned my head away 'cause I'm long overdue for one. Sorry, I rectum, er, reckon.

Whathisname had his fill of coffee.. bootscooted... no smooch from wifey... eh, don't need to to demonstrate love.. maybe they ain't the PDE type anyways.

Fifth lady... some kinda dessert goodies in a clear sandwich bag. Hey, her hair is brown and it doesn't appear to be colorded/tinted.  MISOGYNIST, you NEVER mention the gent's hair?  That's cause there ain't much.  Flannel wears a cap too, I'm guessing very little... ballcap guy, same, crossword feller, pinky's hubby, zilcho hair.  It was prolly knocked off over time by all the horrific decibels of whatsher.. VICTOR!  Sorry, kinda, not really..  Do you hear what I hear?

Younger old guy grabbed annuder round of coffee for all... Now they're talking daylight savings... dislike of same...  'What's the advantage of it?"...  "There's a town in Indiana, and they got both... two time zones, same city.  Walk across the street, different.  Live here, work there.  Bizarre."

Crossword guy's eyes finally moved offa the crossword as the ladies are discussing yesterday's announcement that a hometown kid won "The Simone Award", ie, named the best HS football player in the City... and that Liberty's coach won "Coach of the Year".. long time we ain't been that good.  Cool that the ladies are discussing.  Now they're on to "Pooches Cafeteria"... strange bedfellows.

Men's table still visiting about Daylight savings... 'I think it actually started during the Civil War.."  Finally, the Dewey Decimal System (Google) brought out. "Says here, it started in 1918"...   wasn't that Teddy Roosevelt time?  "Originally implemented during World War I to conserve energy at wartime."  "How could that conserve energy?" ballcap guy wondered.  Now they're on to zoom conferences and time confusion therein.  (Ain't it great to be retired?)

Crossword dude now outnumbered 6 to 1, he's oblivious.  Gotta be close to running outta ink, then he'll be in BIG trouble... he'd have to listen, participate.  Pinky say "Be a good boy now", she didn't, but, he knows that in advance.

"Oklahoma's actually adopted not changing Daylight Savings Time in 2025.".. Then, things turned upside down.  "DID YOU HEAR ABOUT THAT VA HOSPITAL IN TENNESSEE?  12 WORKERS CAUGHT ON CAM HAVING AN ORGY.  ONE GUY ADMITTED TO "BEDDING" 32 OF THE LADY WORKERS.!"  I said a baby prayer for pacemakers, laughed internally a bit... "AND ALL ON YOUR DIME!"... for shame for shame... then the jokes set in.. "Say, did you hear what George Burns said about sex at 90?  No, what?  It's like playing pool with a rope."  Aye yai yai.

Over time, there is honestly, more laughter from the ladies tablle.  Are we men grumpier?    Uh oh, Pinky has a gossip magazine.  (As if she needs one). VICTOR! (Scroll to, I've lived here a long, long time.)

"Snow on the way" (guys table,.)  Supposed to rain on Friday... "I've got leaves on the ground I can't get picked up" 4th new guy, standing. "I'm tryin got get the gas all runned outta my mower."  Just start it up, let it run.  "I heard the snow will be in here and outta here pretty fast."  "We're lucky its gonna warm up on Friday,."  43 with rain on Friday... supposed to rain Saturday..  Sunday too..." (Who needs Fred Broskie?)

Eight now seated at the gal table.  They're reserved for the most part.  Two, sometimes three convo's at once.  When the last of all of em arrived, it was admittedly pretty loud.  The misogynist in me always wonders, if there are 8 at a table and 8 are talking, who's listening?  (Victor, you counted crossword guy, there were only 7 talking at once.  Oh yeah, sorry.)

"Only three more weeks of football."  (Thank goodness the men's table moved on from the colon.)
Week 17, Monday night is December 30th."  Our last week, against Denver, the time and the date to be determined.  Whenever, it's gonna be cold out there."

Over time... and prolly daily.. talks get to...... health...  weather...  stars of the day (today I heard "Danny Kaye sure could dance"... something about Van Johnson... Rita Hayworth.. even Wally Cox.)

I'm actually kinda perked by all these fellow geezers.  Once, only once, in almost an hour and a half I saw someone staring at their phone.  Just shows to go I guess, we geezers ain't gotta Google, we're already full of info (sh*t).. oops, sorry, kinda.

Conversations like this go on every day, virtually every city in the good ole US of A.  Over time, some faces don't come back, some new ones jump in.  Silly or time well spent?

I vote well spent.  Lots of smiles.  Opines.  Ne'er or rare an argument.  Happy.  Theys happy.  Kinda like they like each other.  

Retirement.  They deserve a break today............ so get up and get away........ to McDonald's... or Hank's Coffee Shop......  Betties Biscuits and Gravy... the Awful Waffle... wherever there's coffee, tables, and years of experience, opines, smiles, camaraderie.  Even with a little pink splashed in.

Love, Victurd

Goulash...........

Ain't that life?

OK, I like that word.   I can't spell it, at least, I couldn't before this blog. Took me three tries.

Was at a restaurant the other day, not your typical restaurant.  Limited menu, as in limited to whatever they are having for the day.  Monday/Sloppy Joes..  Tuesday/Burger-fries... Wednesday/Tacos..  Thursday/Lasagna... Friday/Cooks day off, ha..  Saturday, on this day, goulash.   My highly educated buddies and I decided against it...  basically because we didn't know whatinthehell it was.

So, lifelike, so to speak.

Goulash, you know, is a stew made with beef, assorted vegetables and paprika - different crap.

Life, day in day out, is a stew made with beef(s), ha, love, smiles, frowns, cold, wind, heat, rain, mean people, silent people, bend over their back to helpya people, dogs, cats, river rats, onomatopoeia, traffic, noise, beggars, choosers, bosses, fast food, customer service folks, order fillers at Wally, pill fillers at pharmacies across the land.......... much........... much different.

Foreheads are a thing of the past.  They are.  I'm at the library (no wi-fi, remember?)..  Rugrats (bigger ones) here and there.  ALL the males, I ain't seen a forehead yet.  Across the land...... David Moffitt, Phyliss Martin, Terry Hahn?  Is that (hairdo) a thing across the land?  Boys hair soooooooooooooo long on top in front, you can't see a forehead?  Is here.  Not a judgmental bone there, just a thought.  But sure, kinda weird.

Different has been running thru my brain.

We friends come together... . then go our separate way.... our lives SO DIFFERENT.   Fun, same, kinda, together - very different, unique homes, family, lives, yada.

We different sizes... the condition of our health, different...  on a scale of one to ten, my pain may be a ten to me but a one to  you, or, vise versa.   

A simple sentence said to one.  Can make one feel nothing..  can make another flip out, wanna punch the person how said in the throat... or, can make another agree, say, "hell yeah!"

Some of my friends hear Spanish every day, another, French.  Some are even bilingual, while the rest of us strike out in Wordle any time they use the same vowel twice in a word.

We're married, divorced, never been, shacking, all kinds of interesting household setups.  Many have a house payment, some don't.  Some will fo'er pay rent, damnit darnit, there/s me in that group.

Some fish, hunt, one is a vegetarian.  Dog and cat lovers.  Hell to the no, gets my dander up. Smoke smoke smoke that cigarette, HELL NO, NOT IN MY HOUSE OR EVEN IN MY YARD, and NEVER in my car.

Some will drive 17 miles to save $0.09 a gallon on gas... others, as we age, will drive the path 15 minutes longer because we can't stand Interstate.

Condo, acreage, two story, ranch, 4br/3ba, studio, 1BR/1BA, differnt.  Some, kids still living at home.  Some, living with their kids. The lucky ones, just my take, king size bed, coupled, two dogs and a cat thrown in.

I heard someone recently say, "I have no problem with people.... I just don't want to be around them"..   Oh Brother Ben say it again, I love that!  I was looking up different personality types - and one site said it was perfectly fine not to wanna be around people occasionally.  Whew.

Some can't even spend ten minutes watching the news cause they feel like they gotta talk to, text, call, whatever, any one. Don't wanna be left out. Not me.  Don't condemn, just not me.

We're almost done here - and after we are, I feel you're gonna think "I read all that crap, there was no rhyme or reason to any of it, why am I here?" To which, I reply, I dunno, why are you?

We're different, and sometimes I guess it's just fun to see things from another's smelly shoes.  Victor, speak for yourself, my shoes aren't smelly.  Mine are, I admit.

Please have a wonderful evening, what with your 397 different channels, TV's in 4 different rooms in the house.  2 cars in the garage, one in the driveway, leftovers in the fridge, pot of chili in the slow cooker.. alarm set or not..  music on.... pandora in a world of different, shazam that.

Bypass the mirror.  It too is different... than it usedta be.

Go thru your contact list... take note... it too is different... many holes where there usedta be real live people.  A preachment my friends you are about to receive........ make note of that, perty please.  Different ain't forever.  We too one day will Snagglepuss stage left.  Might as well smile, have fun..... phone a friend....... or not.  Whatever, just please enjoy this time we have left harmonizing in a world of difference.

When life sucks............ you're down......... think of the Bennie Hill song.  Helps me.  So does, a brief Tim Conway clip.   Harvey Korman trying to stay serious, be for real.

Loveya,

Victurd