Braking news...

There's somethin' happening here.. 

No, that ain't it.  

Well, kinda sorta.

If you're old, like me. Number one, you're blessed.  Number two. (It's the coffee, BRB) I'M JOKING! RELAX!

Secondly, (how's that?) it seems our land (Remember? This land is your land, this land is my land, from California to the New York Island)... our land, has these moments, periods - where, its kinda like an old LP album, ya get to a certain point, it's bound to SKIP, SCREETCH, NONSTOP, YEEOUCH. 

EVERYONE HOLDS THEIR EARS.... OMG's happen and they ain't abbreviated...

To compensate, we all scream at the toppa our lungs.  Hell, it's no wonder, once we hit SS age, all them damn Beltone flyers show up in the mailbox, we canardly hear.

We, they. Both sides, yes, preach to the choir. It just don't work. It's like tryin' ta run but there ain't no laces in your tenny boppers. 

Sure, each side holds the their side up, but(t), once we stand up, try to start'a runnin', spoutin'-toutin', we ain't gots no belt in our pants and we literally, physically, figuratively show our ass, by cracky. A nation of plumbers, your side, my side, we're all a hollerin' but no one is roto rootering the drain.

 Calgon, take me away. Gimme a break, gimme a break, break me off a piece'a the Kit Kat bar. Two tickets to Paradise perty please. Dudeism some bowler once called it.

Not long ago I bored you with the story of my retired school Superintendent buddy... how 'Establish culture' was key to his beginning days in a new school district. TBC.

He spoke of visiting the bus barn, third day on the job... folks were'a laboring away, mechanics, drivers, supervisors, clerical staff, with smile, with music, THEN, it stopped. The damn LP started sticking, skipping, screeching, metafour...ah, metaphor....hmmnn...kinda sorta.

He went to the manager and asked, "What happened?".... "Well, you're here."

Light bulb. A week later, two dozen donuts it tow, he visited them ON BREAK, talked, laughed, learned he was'a human just like them, got to know each others families, likes, wants, dreams. The debris, grease, whateverinthehell it was in the LP album was removed.  

The Fob to culture began.

I feel it coming "Pasture Schultze" (please note the spelling) you're gonna preach aint'ya?  

Mebbe.

Braking News (please note the spelling.)

You (we too) deserve a break today, so get up and get away...

Put the lime in the coconut,  take a drive in the country.

Text your BFF a joke.

Crank a favorite tune. Visit the gravesite of a loved one. 

Swing on the porch swing. Ain't got one? Buy one. Spend a couple hours with Andy, Barney. Ope, Hoss, Ben, Lil' Joe.

Put in earbuds and whip up a meatloaf, or pecan pie.

Phone a friend. Is that your final answer?  NO.

Brake, take breaks often.  

I dunno about you, but my experience in virtually every job I've ever had, THE BEST times were when we were not on task but on break. Letting our hair down, laughing at ourselves, complimenting, confiding, asking for or giving advice (when asked for it.)

Yum. A dozen donuts. Nature's Xanax.

Temporarily "Take this job (life, skipping LP, we/they, protest this, did you see, hear that? Can you believe what so and so said? Patooey and shove it." At least while we're on break.

Vacation. Staycation. Sudoku. Hell, even Farmville.

Do sumpin, anything, occasionally,  when the record skips.

I personally am considering a girls trip. No no no. I just wanna tag along!  Aintya heard, girls just wanna have fun.

Braking News from the real Breaking News.

Don't forget the baby aspirin. 

Love, Victurd