Rome......

Oh yes, I remember it well.

Rosary and visitation yesterday for a college buddy.  The physical end to life is always difficult.  It does, however, allow reflection - and like any mirror with a person in front of it, there is beauty.

Good friends who attended also gathered after, at, perhaps the best Italian restaurant in Kansas City.  Late 60, 70-somethings, who, at one point in our lives, could actually run, hop,jump, and go to work, willingly.

As we relived stories, forgot names, remembered names, times...  one of the seven of us sitting around the table - looked East... offered, "Look at the old people in that room."    'It's a mirror isn't it," the dude with his back to the East offered... "can you see my bald spot?"  Yes, it was actually a three foot wide, wall to wall mirror. And, yes, we could see the bald spot, and, like much of life's worry, it wasn't near as big or as frightening as believed.

There were also smiles in the reflection.  Same as in watching the beauty in the line at the church.  A wonderful family... and at the end of the line - our buddy's best buddy since forever.  True class of the family for he to be there.  Rome wasn't built in a day.  The friendship of our two buddies has been remarkable.  The old folks sitting around the table devouring spaghetti, lasagna, fettuccine and such - yes, perhaps withered a tad like the Colosseum - yet strong in bond and still going - not as long at the Colosseum (build started in 70-72 AD...) point being - built, strengthened, solidified, over time... 

Carpe diem. Victor?  This where you preach?  I don't think I need to.  Life sends us 'notifications', 'popups', alarms (a last glance in the mirror at night before falling into the hay.. plopping the choppers into Polident.. "please scroll to your year of birth"... plopping into bed.. the 'talking like a pirate' moans, groans, getting outta bed).. we know who we is, how old we is.. we get it.  That moment.  May be our last.  Seize the day.

Vini Vidi Vici.  I have come.  I have seen, I have conquered.  Just remind me why the hell I came into this room.

All roads lead to Rome. I am 'today old' to learn this refers to the Rome being built in the center of the empire, with every road attached to it.  The same outcome can be reached by many different methods or ideas.

The wonder of life,   The strength of the Colosseum.  So many various methods, ways to get there.  That one developed software, IT made him many friends over the years.  He sold cars.  Referrals, repeat business lent to ballgames, dinners out, fun outings. She taught school, retired a bit ago - but, those flames of love still burn, witness the monthly retirement luncheons.  Catered planes, deacons in the church, geologist, nurse, doctor, city employee, carpet, tile person, forklift driver, chef for folks with a fork. Bonds, all.  

A few played softball too many damn years, sometimes causing too many dayum marriages.  Folks got into scouting.  Dance with their kids.  Book clubs, learned an instrument, sang in the choir, used their wheels to handout meals, went twice a week to volunteer at the charitable thrift store.  Along the way, friendships developed, helped keep them afloat - much like the gondolas of Venice.  Uplifting, beautiful.

When in Rome....  Yes, I heard about that one grandma, the one that cut and pasted Billy Graham articles over the vertical Budweiser bottles on the St. Louis Cardinal calendar that hung in the living room - well, she mighta had 'just a glass' of vino. We're at the carnival, funnel cake, cotton candy, "lets!"  "Nobody puts ketchup on a hot dog!"  Watch me!

Fiddle while Rome burns.  Is it just me or, does anyone else have a heapin' helpin' of avoidance behavior?  Tomorrow, I'll do it tomorrow.  I know I should say something but I won't.  Seize the moment.  Nope, maybe tomorrow.

 Live, love, laugh. That from Rome Victor?  Nope, checkenginelight1.  Oh, thanks.  What happened to plain ole checkenginelight? I forgot the password.  Oh. Vini, vidi....sumpin. 

Some no likey humor.  I get it.  Well, I don't, but, I guess I have to.  I vote, make going to the gas pump with a buddy fun... Sing.. or make fun of his/her signing.  No likey roll call?  Think up good answers. "Aye aye Teach!"  "Zabadoo!"

Well I've never been to Spain...... but I kinda like the music.  Well I've never been to England, but I kinda like the Beatles...   Well I've never been to heaven, but I've been to Oklahoma... 

I'll never make it to Rome, and I'm good with that.  Much, appeals, offers a glimpse of life.  I think of old... long lasting..  proud..  strong..    ceremonial... beautiful...  

I moved the cursor down but I'm really not sure what to write. (I bet that idiot thinksa something, don't you?)  HEY!

OK.  I think I'm in love with life.  YES, I argue, slip, fall, have my moments, beat myself up, cry, have one more beer occasionally than the two I shoulda stuck with..  but I love it.  Truly.

I hope you do too.

Within life is the sorrow of loss.  All the more reason to seize the day while we can.

Love, Victurd

Plagiarism

He tried, but he couldn't do it. 

Staring here, at this blank page this morning.... I couldn't thinka nuttin' to write about - which, I understand is a double-negative - but, when one reaches the official old-fart age, we're certainly entitled to be twice as negative.

Yesterday, of course, was Mother's Day.  Fun day working at the golf course with coworkers, as, moms-aplenty came in to purchase the promised '10% off'   annual membership. The mood was happy.  We had a few dads come in to play, some, lugging a snotnose or two around with them, "she told me to bring them, give her some time for Mother's Day."  Nifty.

But, that ain't news.  That ain't funny.  I want HAPPY and FUNNY TOGETHER.

So, of course I Googled "Strange Mother's Day stories."

Twas there I ran smack dab into a fun, brief, one paragraph recap of quickie stories, compliments of a 2022 Reader's Digest article....

In life........... we need:

Air

Water

Chili Cheese Fritos

Money

Sex (I WAS JUST MAKING SURE YOU WERE STILL AWAKE, SORRY KINDA SORTA)

and................

Humor

I tried, but I couldn't do it. VICTOR!  ARE YOU TALKING SEX? Not no's, but hells no's, and that's kinda dayum personal of you to ask! I'm talking plagiarize.  I was gonna, then go take a nap where I'd hear echoes of "Ahm, I'm tellin', you're going to you-know-where or some place like that Victor."

So I decided to simply repost the article. Sorry, kinda, I ain't, can't be nearly as creative.  Please know though, I had a giggle or two - I hope you do too.  And, I hope, if you be a momma, that you had a nice day.

Love, Victurd

I tried to get the link below to where all ya had to do was click it, but, couldn't.  Sorry. If, the chance of giggle is something you might need, want, please COPY AND PASTE THE BELOW in a new tab, or whatever they call it

https://www.rd.com/list/funny-mom-stories/

Be careful what you wish for........

Paul Pierce, Part 2......

To recap, Mr. Pierce played in the NBA for the Boston Celtics for 15 years.  Currently, he co-hosts a popular Sport's show in LA.  His Boston Celtics, won the NBA Championship last year.

Opening game this year, round 2 of playoffs... versus the NY Knicks.... Celtics were up by 20, Knicks stormed back, beat Celtics in overtime.  Incensed, Paul readied for Game 2 (at Boston) by proclaiming to his cohosts, "Bet the house baby.... if Boston loses Game 2, I'm WALKING to work."  TWENTY MILES.  "In my robe...... barefooted."

Be careful what you wish for.........

Exact same scenario...  Celtics led..  Knicks staged comeback...  LOST game 2.  Ruh roh.

TV captured Mr. Pierce as he actually jogged, shadowboxed (to the theme of Rocky) the last few steps up, making good on his (outlandish, sorry) promise.  "I can't believe I made it.  I'm never doing this again, I'm never making a bet like this again." 

For the start of the broadcast, his partners guided him out in a wheelchair as Pierce waived Celtic green pom-poms. "There he is... his legs are shot."

Band camp, long ago........... VICTOR!  YOU'VE TOLD THIS ONE!

I know, BUT, I tried digging thru all my stupid blogs to find the actual blog, couldn't....so, I PROMISE this will be a Cliffsnotes version.

A Saturday afternoon........ Fall, 1977....

My first REAL teaching job.  Platte County High School.  High School PE Teacher plus, Girl's Basketball Coach.  Drum roll............... $9,800.... but hey, the paychecks were spread out for the calendar year (versus just the nine months)......

Mid-way through the Football Season, Platte County was 1-4.  Next up on the schedule, a Saturday afternoon, 1pm away game against Kearney High School, undefeated at 5-0.

"HEY SCHULTZE" the football coach hollered.. (I think it's prolly year three or so before you're esteemed, referred to as "Coach").. . "We told the kids 'If you beat Kearney, we (the coaches) will walk home after the game."  Bear in mind, it's 26 miles from Kearney back to Platte City.  "Will you walk with us?... George (Principal) and Dan (Art Teacher) said they would."

As a newbie, did I really have a choice, even though I wasn't coaching football?  A quick silent rethink, "let's see, we're 1-4, Kearney is 5-0", "Sure Coach, I'll walk with you."

Be careful what you wish for.

I'll be damned if Platte County, assuredly fired up by the Coach's promise, played nearly flawless football, and actually beat Kearney handily.  GULP.  Of course the kids were HOOTIN' AND HOLLERIN', laughing and saying "You old guys better get-ta walking!"... 

1pm game.  Musta been about 3:30pm that Saturday we started walking.  Narrow, 2 lane highway (92 Hwy to be exact).  Did I mention 26 miles?  Oh yeah, did! No shoulder.  At least 6,874 times, players, girlfriends of players, cheerleaders, pep club gals, students galore, parents - drove West... then back East.. then back West, etc..  HONKING..  LAUGHING!  They all wanted to make sure we didn't hail a cab or something - so, we hadta live up to our promise.  Damnit.

About halfway to halfway, DARK happened.  The head coach, oldest of us all, had pep in his step all the way. Twas impressive.  The other coaches pretty much kept up.  I was 25 and I'll admit, I was getting tired.  Principal, doing ok. Art Teacher, BIG MAN, not so much, but dadgummit he kept going.

Halfway, sometime before midnight.  Smithville, MO. Wonderful parents brought us Chili.  And.... even a beer.  Kids, football players were still doing their West-East thing, honking, yelling, having a blast watching us suffer, walk...  

The last half of the walk...  ouch.. yawns.. "What the heck noise was that animal?"..  Dark.  No shoulder. Single file.  With the moon as our guide, we actually managed to sneak in some fun, humor, and we replayed all the plays worth replaying.

26 loooooong miles later - we made it just after daybreak - to the Parking lot of the Platte County High School.  A few parents, fellow co-teachers, and yeah, even some football players, were there to greet us.

The Kansas City Star caught wind of it...  on Monday, brought us walkers out for a picture to simulate what it looked like when we actually arrived...   a nifty article...  We made it. Even the Grande' art teacher and the blisters on every inch of his feet.  I think we all had moments of "I wish we hadn't"...  but then life taps ya on the shoulder, and yeah, ya have to agree, "I'm GLAD we did." No way I could approach any such thing today.

Love, Victurd

Scorecard.......

Sorry, you're stuck.

I LOVE (SPORTS) ROCK AND ROLL PUT ANOTHER DIME IN THE JUKE BOX BABY.

We all gots different affinities.  Buddy in CO, he likes rocks.  Lady in WA like flowers.  SoCal good friend, he's an app-nerd, said lovingly.  Friend here locally loves quite a few brands of cars, deals 'em, an affinity for 'em, but, he don't sell no Infiniti, I don't think.  One likes looking at life from both/either side of the Rio Grande. Another buddy's Buddy likes sticks.  A Corgi dog? No, but, that's anudder friends niche. And yet anudder, it's all about Green Acres is the place to be. We be diverse in our likes.

It's a boat-floating thing, as in, whatever, individually, helps you cruise through the toppa the water - starting as a snotnose....., thru the acme era..... on, thru, during the commute of being the commute age... and on through the wrinkly, raisin, Beetlejuice era...  Beetlejuice?  Uh huh, "Somebody help me" enroute to the urn, plot, wharever yur headed.

An INTEREST to divest our time in.

Mine, at least a big one, is Sports.  Scoff you might, and it's OK, I get it.  How boring is going online to ESPN, or, tuning into a National Sport's Show, suffering through the fingernail scratching on the blackboard of ten minutes of NEW YORK or LOS ANGELES crap before they finally get to the score of the team in our little bitty City.

Still awake?  I know, boring.  Anyways, yes, I do care about scores - BUT, and YES, life, no matter your niche, like, affinity, Infiniti, yada - it ain't all about who wins, the mundane crap that hitchhikes daily with our niche.  Spit it out Victor, whaddaya mean?

I thought you'd never ask.

For example.  One of the articles today was about the New Pope.  HUH?  The Sport's page?  Yup.  Unless you've been on a deserted island (and I never said Alcatraz), you gotta be aware our new Pope is from the good ole USA - Illinois, Chicago - to be specific.  Of course they're already digging to see if he's a Cub's fan or a White Sox fan.   ABC News reported....... drum roll......................................

Cub fan!  Twitter, or X, whatever, Instagram, Facebook, all that crap, went berserk. My favorite post was "I bet he hated being a cardinal"  (if you don't know the history, the Cubs hate the Cardinals, the Cardinals hate the Cubs, I thought that was perty damn clever.)  Of course divine intervention - FanDuel, DraftKings, yada, stirred betting on Super Bowls, NBA Championships, Stanley Cups for "Da Bears", The Bulls and The Blackhawks.

Then, the Pope's brother, yeah, they found him...... said "Ain't so, he's a White Sox fan..... as, the family was split between being Cardinal or Cubs fans."  Eh, when in Rome I guess......  Move on Victor, what else?

Well....... of course I devoured the article on the Royals win (they are red hot btw) then, there was an article of Jason Kelce playing in a Pro-Am Charity golf tourney in Philly - and he scouted out Irish golfer Shane Lowry because he'd seen a Halloween picture of Lowry and his family, trick-or-treating - Shane was wearing 'full Travis Kelce #87 helmet, pads, uni... whilst his little girl , mebbe 7, was dressed as a spittin' image of Taylor Swift.  "So my daughter is obsessed with Taylor" - and of course Jason, Travis's brother replied "Who's not?" That's it. I thought fun.

See?  Sports ain't all about 7-4....... 22-3....  This big contract...... that prima donna... hold outs.. NIL.. transfers...   Life interjects occasionally in Sports too!

That's only two Victor.. gimme something else......... Ahm, OK.  Paul Pierce, he of NBA fame (15 years with the Boston Celtics) and present broadcaster of a heap big sports show in LA.  His Celtics - last years NBA Champs....  were upset in game 1 of the playoffs this year by the NY Knicks...so, Paul told his co-host, "If the Celtics lose game 2 tonight, I'm walking here (15 miles) tomorrow, in my robe, no shoes on... put the house on this game!"    Well... you know.

Knicks won....... Paul walked..... (he did wear shoes though)...  reported his progress every hour... folks, co-host brought him water... "Welcome to this journey...here I go.. Man this is really wild.. I can't believe this.. Celtics got me out here like this, dog."  Ouch.  8 hours.  Made it.

This-n-that:

KU has a very talented baseball player from Down Under... lived, played there.. then, moved to Japan to be with mom, sister, lived, played there.... then to a Texas JUCO, finally, to KU.  That's alotta moving, languages.  At one point, he recalled the teacher giving him a test, and all he could do was write his name atop.... he couldn't read one word of the language.  Kudos to the dude for making it, gittin' her done, and, doing VERY well now.

"Yacht Rock."  HUH?  Yeah.. quick article on the new music being played in the Royal's locker room after games.. .previously, twas loud, blasting, (not a fan) of songs that tweren't PG-13.  Welcome:  Brandy, youre a fine girl..... Earth, Wind and Fire's The Way You Move..  Anudder player, interviewed holding his 15 month old daughter whilst War's Low Rider played in the background...  a bit of Hall and Oates.

Royals 10, White Sox 0... but that crap is boring, gimme the 'tween, life, yum, yeah baby, odds and ins of it all.  I LOVE (SPORTS) ROCK AND ROLL PUT ANOTHER DIME IN THE JUKE BOX BABY.

Happy Niche'ing to you.

Love, Victurd

19 years, 4 months, 11 days ago....... My first blog. Someone shoulda said, "Victor, don't do that."

Today, May 7, 2025... is blog #2,513.  The first was September 29, 2005.  With tongue (you pick) somewhat in cheek, squarely in cheek, swab his cheeks - he's gotta be nuts (haha) a buddy named David told me one time "Vic, I went back and read each and every one." SUSIE!  Good gosh gerty, SPICE THAT MAN'S LIFE UP!  (But TY David, it was impressive of you!)

I have no idea how people read it back then.  Facebook began in 2004 , penned by a group of Harvard students.  Harvard, hmmm, rings a bell.  MySpace did start in 2003 but I have no idea if I posted it there. Cobwebs, we all get 'em.  Get in the way when walking around in earlier life.

No idea why I'm sharing this today, which, generally fits this, these blogs - no idea on why.

Why do I write?  I like to.  I get bored.  Admittedly, have gotten down, writing (to me anyways) is like taking a hoe, spade, turning cruddy soil over, giving it new, more vibrant life.  (Trying to anyways.)

The road of life has potholes.  So Victor, ahm, are you thinking Pulitzer Prize for that sentence or something, that why you shared?  Ahm, no.  I simply mean there is negative, much, in every day - thus, I try to write, include a minimum of one happy snippet. As Barney would say, "NIP IT, NIP IT, NIP IT", ok, ok, I'll try a positive snippet.

The first blog is below.  Like most, it's pretty mundane, which, I consider as wonderful fodder should you have insomnia, you'll be back asleep in no time.  It was Fall, and entitled 'fall....

No idea whyinthehell I didn't capitalize it.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

September 29, 2005

fall,,.

Ain't it wonderful? After months and months of coming in from outside to stand in the way of the fan - or, to catch a snippet of AC... it's a tremendous feeling to "want" a jacket.

Life's cycle continues... Clockwork... Why is it, as our eyes age and become weaker we simultaneously become more attuned and appreciative of such changes? Ya think it's because we know that day where we won't be able to do all that is beckoning? Eh, I dunno.

It's probably only because we know winter is not far behind and we better suckup the good days whilst we can. I always wanted Florida. Something about a decorated palm tree just doesn't ring true for Christmas though.. Two piece binkini's in the Piggly Wiggly - yes... Illuminated coconuts - no. Give and take huh?

So, I'm gonna let them eyeballs feast on the changing of the trees... The football lights in the distance... Finding the jacket from last year and seeing if it still grades out on today's style... Folding and putting away shorts to a place I'll remember come May... wondering if my 36" waist will still fit in them the next time. Wouldn't it be great to HAVE to buy new 34" ones next year? Yeah, right.

Daylight Savings coming to an end. Shit. Dark is depressing. Unless of course there are two to share dark. Mebbe that's why so many babies are conceived during this time.. Kinda bassackwards to athletics. When you're young, you smooch and bear the fruit of a snotnose. IE, you practice, then you have the real game. When you're older, you push 'the real game' out of the nest, then you practice! Hooray for practice. Why does 98.6 + 98.6 feel warmer?

Work beckons. Shit. Nah, I actually love work. Been the constant in my life for the last few years. Now, adding ingredients to that recipe of life. Even though I can't cook worth a crap - I'm enjoying the meal!

Have fun with your life cycle. Stick your tongue out at the little things and gasp and record the wonderful things. Save room for dessert too. Happy day.

Heck, I dunno......

It's almost 10am.  Victor, who askedya?

Yeah, I know.  Just pointing out..... time flies.  Looking back, fitty-plus years of working, commuting, family raising, trips to/fro Piggly, Wally, Doctor, Little league games, Back to School stuff, family goodies, weddings, celebrations, part-time 2nd jobs, mowing, weed eating, chasing, trying to clear up cloudy water in the pool, cooking, cleaning (VICTOR quit crying, SHE did all'a that.) Eh, OK, mosta it, but, shake and bake, I did help......... anyways, it really never seemed busy.

Retirement set in..... folks, folks already retired, would tellya, "I know it sounds crazy, but, time will fly... you'll find asking yourself 'where did all the hours in the day go'?"  And it's twue, it's reawwy twue.

I awakened at 12:25am, did Wordle, back to zzzzzzzzz.  I woke at 1:37am...... pppppppp, back to zzzzzzzz.  I awoke at 2:40am, counted on my fingers, 1,2,3,4,5,6 hours sleep - "lay back down stupid."  Did.  HOLY CRAP, it's 6:23am, as in, damn near TEN hours sleep - ain't done that since........ well...... maybe since one'a the Bush's was in office.

Coffee... the Daily Sudoku (Mondays are cinchy)...  Breezed thru local E-paper, the good stuff, no fingernail on the chalkboard, huh uh.

Exit, stage left to the blog.  I dunno. 7-something am. And here I sit on my fat hiney, just now starting it.  This retirement, blogging, is rough stuff, but somebody's gotta do it.  WHO SAID SO VICTOR?  Bite me.

I've got 23 'windows' open, 'lace' was an idea... lace for ballgloves, families, buddies, Facebook, the 'fence' that binds us together.   Then I thought about 'handle'.  Fly off the handle.. Too hot to handle..  Handle with care...  Kid gloves...  Get a handle on it..  Then, as a kinda-sorta cripple, I thought about the last time I pooped at Wally (sorry, kinda, not really) and how, I hadta use a stall without handles to assist in getting up and getting down because there was a 20-something able bodied person in the Handicap stall (please don't do do that) and so I had a BM (Bad Mood, you pervert).. and decided, nah, lace blog bad idea, and so is handle.

I thought about TEAR, which, can be pronounced like "TARE" which sounds too luch like Tar-iff, Nahhhhh..  or Tear, pronounced like Ear with a T in front.

Tears, are, can be, yummy.  Yes, we all have the other kind, even those old codgers my age who profess "Nah, I don't, won't show my emotions like that."  I call BS.  I never saw my dad cry until he got Parkinsons, then he did finally, age late 70-something.  Point being, 'twas in there all along, so you there blogreader, no try to fool me

HOMESTEAD RESCUE.

Huh?  Yeah, it's a TV show.  Victor?  Tea/China?  I dunno, find the amount, multiply it by 145% or something like that.

Tears. It has to do about tears.  Homestead Rescue is a Discovery TV show where an actual Homesteader himself (and his son/daughter) go help other Homesteaders in need. They do amazing things.  Clear land, build new roads, help with a well, or a paddlewheel pump kinda thing from a nearby stream to bring water to the house.. fences for critters, chicken houses for chickens...solutions for "Help.. we dunno what to do."

There was a show 3 years ago.  A retired Firefighter and his wife.  He'd fallen, had pins in his back, basically physical labor was a no no and impossible for him.  NW Montana.  Their home was 5 miles from a raging forest fire.  WHAT NOW?  Hundreds of trees TOO CLOSE made their home an easy mark for the fire.  WHAT NOW?  They again asked.  Marty (the Homesteader who travels to help other homesteaders, said , "Turn around".  Retired firefighter did, and there were....... holding 17 chainsaws, 17 former firefighter coworkers.That's where the tears, hugs, come in. In 7 days, they cleared land around the house..  had enough firewood for a few years of producing heat for Winter.. built a henhouse, storage for hay for the goats, and........ a secluded, ground floor handicap accessible 'indoor' deer stand on the sidea the hill for the retired dude.  The firefighter and his wife, old farts like you me, had a niece who lived with them, and her young legs, good heart saved their bacon for the next few years.

Now....... forward 3 years...   the niece has moved on to start her own homestead... they were outta firewood...  it's a REAL chore for wifey to take a bale of hay 200 yards to their family of goats.  And, water.  No, water. Hot or cold.

Soooooooooooooooo.  Firefighters come back?  Nah, but, friends, families, neighbors did.  Chainsaws in hand.  A kajillion logs split, stacked, home heat for s'more years, a storage bin for the hay, MUCH closer to the goats, with an enclosed walkway to/fro the goats.  And, a plumber dude figured out the water problem...  fixed...  AND...  another plumber donated, put in a water heater.... they'd never had hot water and had been without water (except for what they hauled) for EIGHT years.

All, fixed.  S'more tears.  Before Marty and kiddos headed back to their own homestead, the ole fireman took em back down to the enclosed deer stand.  "This is my therapy. This is where I get away when I need to, like if PTSD sets in.  If a memory stirs like of the time I had to tell a mom after a fire her 13 year old wasn't coming back....  I come here.  Of all the wonderful things you've done for us, this has been the most valuable to me.  I thank you from the bottom of my heart."  Quite certain a warm shower was on tap for the guy after Marty left. It'd been 8 years.

S'more tears.  It's now 10:51am, whereinthehell does time go?

All good, especially when preceeded with Happy Tears.

Happy tears to you............  love, Victurd

Happy tears, what better!

And the Favorite is.........

Well.... like em all, but, I'd have to say Summer.....

Day of the week?  Well, what's the one where ya ain't gotta get up and go to work, and.. you go to bed that night knowing ya ain't gotta set an alarm to get up and go into work. Oh yeah, Saturday.

Butter pecan.......  Chili cheese Fritos (provided there's plenyta paper towels around.)....   In KC, Joe's BBQ, but, here, we be proud of all of em... just jump in the car, roll the winder down, stick ur nose out... they're all over... drive till ya smell the yum, pull in.  Feast.  They're all good.

Female. For all of you that call me a misogynist, THERE, of the two species, THAT's my fav.. yup.. don't fear admitting... so.... GTH (that's Go To Here for future reference)

$20 bills.  Rare to have a hunnerd, but when I do, they look at me funny when I hand to them.  Then, they deface it with some kinda marker.  My piddly weekly paycheck, "Hi Claudia (the teller), just cashing, and $20's please."

Blue.   Green.  Brown.  Grey.  Black.  (My favorite color'a eyes. Yours?

Shorts.

Tennis shoes.  Haven't played tennis since Bobby Riggs and Billie Jean King, but, I no likey dress shoes, boots..... sandals usedta be my fav, but, since forced to wear these compression socks so my brain doesn't fall out, gimme tenny boppers.

Dogs.  DON'T GET ME WRONG, I LOVE CATS.  But, favorite entails ONE. Love both (with heap big thank you to ex for introduction to cats) but Dog is fav.

Royals, Chiefs, MU, William Jewell, Liberty High School.

Manager style/type.  Hmmmm.  Ya gots Autocratic (huh uh, sorry, take that job and shove it).. Democratic (eh, not bad)... but, fav is Laisez-faire

Beer:  other people's.   Modelo Negra a close second.

Car:  US made.  Won't specify as two of my best friends are dueling UAW fellers.

Victor?  Why are you doing this?  Nobody asked you?

My favorite blogs are the ones where I write about whateverinthehell I wanna write about. And so is your old man!

Of the three......... Youth...... Middle Age...    Old Age.......    Youth #1 (It's always furn to watch littles experience, react to, life, the first time.)  Old Age #2  (A love for anything including rodeos, but, accompanied by the knowledge this ain't your first one.)   Middle age #3.  Nuttin agin' it, I just think Middle age is the most self centered of the three.

Decade:  the 70's.  We could still run.  "We've only just begun" (the quest, march toward Social Security, it didn't seem uphill yet) Responsibilities growing one by one, but, oh baby what fun we had.  When one is 20-something, one thinks "I'll always be 20-something" and, I guess in some respects, we still are.

Blackjack - casino.

Comedy - at the movies

TV:  Much on Discovery Channel...  Local News..  Live sports I care about. An occasional Andy Griffith or Carol Burnett so I can be entertained by yesterday, Barney and Tim Conway.

Christmas (then Thanksgiving).. First Birthdays.  Any organized sport for a 4 or 5 year old.  Observing kindness 'tween strangers.  Observing love gestures of older couples.

Most music.  Whatever taps my foot.  Ray Charles.  The Stones.  Fleetwood.  Clapton.  Neil Young.  Any kinda woman that belts it out with passion (Joan Jett... Chrissie Hynde.. Patsy.. Janis... Aretha..  Gaynor.  YUM to all.)

I DO like crap like this on Facebook where folks are asked stuff like this, folks seldom complete the task, but, the ones that do, I enjoy reading, comparing.

I'd be ok if I went to my urn without ever again seeing hockey, speeders, cars too dayum close in my rear view mirror, abuse of any kind, anyone who is fulla themself, spiders, snakes, raccoons, Bizbag clothes, popups, door to door solicitors, bullies, hearing "Like I said", Methodists (I'M JUST KIDDING, SEEING IF YOU WERE AWAKE!)....... people who fall asleep reading stupid blogs...

Today happens to be onea my favorite days of the year.  A super nice couple invites many to their home, outdoor tent, tables, chairs, bigscreens, ALL food, drink provided. Folks dress the dress.  Littles run amok.  Oldsters struggle up/down the grassy hills, but, with smile as they too enjoy the Annual Kentucky Derby Party.

Journalism is the Favored horse today.

I don't have a Broker because I'm broker.  But, if it were EF Hutton, or, my granny, they might advise "Fold your money in half to double it."

May the 4th be with you tomorrow,

Love, Victurd

Annual checkup........

MAYDAY MAYDAY MAYDAY!

Ahm, Victor?  It's May 2nd...

Damnit, sorry.

Nonetheless........ how are ya?  No, REALLY, how.are.you?

Happy?  Sad?  Fulla vim/vigor?  Tired?  Old?  Achy?  Excited about much? Same ole same ole mebbe now a good thing? Tired of FOX/CNN battle, prattle?  

Yeah, me too.  Alla the above.

The other day I felt El Crappy.  Sicky.  I ain't married.  I don't have a sibling or a parent to call.  I DO NOT feel sorry for myself. In fact, I kinda giggled when I thought, "Whointhehell should I call........ if anyone... and, whointhehell would care anyways?"

Sudafed taken (No WallyWorld, here's my license, I won't be making Meth), Alka Seltzer (Generic brand) two aspirin...... Much better....... and then I thought...... I DO know who I'd call.  I DO know who would care.  As I peek out at who might possibly be so kind to swing by here to read, I see most of you are coupled.  Cool.  "You and me and rain on the roof, caught up in a Summer shower"....... Lie down here honey, lemme put this cool washrag on your forehead... relax... time for a backrub.

You lucky. I lucky.  Folks that care.  We have em.  We've got spirit (and folks that care) we've got spirit (and folks that care) how bout you?

I know there's gotta be folks that don't have that...  and to me, that's tremendously sad. This blog ain't going the direction I'd intended, but, ain't that kinda life-like?  It can be a bitch (sorry to cuss, but, really not really) once them training wheels come off.

Salvy.  As in, Salvador Perez, the Kansas City Royal's Captain, and All Star Catcher.

Victor?   Yep?  That's me!  What?   I'm tired (truly) of tariff talk, but whatinthehell does Salvy have to do with the Price of Tea in China, ie, the juxt'a this dayum blog?

Lots.

Salvy, with Kansas City Royal's photographer Jason Hanna tugging on his sleeve, consented to take an offseason, 11 day trip to Kenya.

If you perhaps live in Colorado, San Diego, Illinois, Oklahoma, Vivion Road, Puerto Penasco Mehico, Spokane, WA or wherever, and you might need a birdseye on whointhehell Salvy is - well, first, he's one helluva baseball player.  Secondly, he's of Venezuelan descent. If you are from one'a them towns, States, Countries above, then you prolly ain't never hearda Helzberg Diamonds either.  Huh? TBC...

Huh?  Yeah, Helzberg.  A Kansas City based jewelry chain with stores in 36 States that ran the infamous "I AM LOVED" ad campaign for lucky folks on the receiving enda one'a their products. With every diamond, ruby, gold chain, yada sold, they too would get a red 'button' thingy, with  I AM LOVED to affix to their top.

In Kansas City.... Venezuela... mebbe from idle Spanish chit-chat between he, sometimes KC first baseman, and Latin opponent who'd just hit a single - you can distinguish........ SMILE abounds.  Umpires.  Teammates. Opponents.  Little kids in a North Kansas City neighborhood that Salvy happened to be driving by one day after 'work', stopped, joined them in a game of wiffle ball.. clubhouse attendants.. cops that sit share, monitor the dugout - PEOPLE ... LOVE... SALVY..here Salvy, put this I AM LOVED button on your chest protector... conversely, SALVY... LOVES.. PEOPLE.. (And life, and baseball... and...  "How are you my friend?")

Even little kids in Kenya love Salvy and they don't speak either of the same languages Salvy speaks, have no idea what baseball is.. how bigga star he is.. for that matter, they don't even know what a star is....... it's his smile, infectious humor, gentle touch, care, concern for mankind that makes Salvy Salvy. Salvy puts his heart, money and time where his mouth is - as last year he won the prestigious Roberto Clemente Award 'awarded annually to the player whose humanitarian efforts exemplify off-the-field service.

So.......... Salvy and the Royal's photo guy..... took a kajillion pics of........ leopards.. over 3,000 Elephants... roaming.. free..    spiders the size of a catcher's mitt...   Hippos ("No te acerques demasiado amigo", don't get too close my friend)... the lion.. "The most beautiful beast of all" per Salv'.)

Back to the little kids.  The newspaper this morning had a pic of Salvy with a group of little kiddos... they were staring into the huge lense of one of the cameras, and it came to Salvy that it was probably the very first time the kids had been able to see themselves...  no mirrors..  "Huyo ni mimi?" ("That's me?" in Swahili).. 

My mom, a child born just before The Depression, used to say "Po, but didn't know it."  Same for the Kenya kids.  Happy they were, in spite of....... living in villages of roughly 60-70 people...  'homes' constructed of mud and dung..  little bitty openings, 'windows' for light, but, again, small, so as to keep all of the above animals out.

Running water?  Hardly.  Most days, kids, families shared as the animals bathed in the waters... 

Salvy said the trip was an eye opener.  He thought about growing up in Valencia, Venezuela.. dirt floors.. crime infested neighborhoods....  and he compared it to life for these kids.....

"They're just blessed to live every day, to wake up in the morning when nothing happened to them... they don't know if they're going to have food the next day... and they live so happy every day, dancing.....it's unbelievable."

And........ let's see........ Victor?  Wasn't it you that was worried about, thinking about, who cared, who ya gonna call Ghostbuster because you had a bad cold? 

Guilty your Honor.

Bailiff, whack his peepee.

Much of the above stolen from a wonderful article in today's Star by Vahe Gregorian, KC Star Sport's writer.

Love, Victurd