Saturday, June 21, 2025

Fulcrums, hassles and passels......

Damn near EVERY time I get to this point of my day (face 'warshed', as a buddy says, coffee downed, daily sudoku a done deal, the Wordle hurdle, a trip to the john or three)... I come here, stare.........

And see, a rabbit in a snowstorm.  Huh?  Yeah, the blank page.  EXCEPT, most days when I look, it seems it's more like a mirror.... and all I see is me, me, me, me, me, thus....... I write about me. I will NOT be offended if you Snagglepuss left here.  

I apologize in advance, but, I blame it on an article I read devoted to parents who'd lost a child - and it said, talk, talk, talk.  So, HA, you're stuck!

I'm a Libran.  Uh huh, the scales.. like a fulcrum.  Insteada thinking about balance (is life ever that?).. I think more like 'woah Nelly, it's an up down world.'  Yes, the Granny 'rollercoaster story' in Parenthood... yes, the teeter totter this gullible redheaded frecklefaced ugly kid (me) sat on in 4th grade while my 150 buddy on the other side, looked at me, laughed, then slid off the back whilst it was on the ground, me, crashing down, damn near driving my tailbone up thru my shoulders. Lessens learned, life is like that, yeah it is.

Passels.  We've done the "I'm a simpleton" routine  before so you know I am that.  I was reading the obits today (2nd thing in order I do after Daily Sudoku.)... thought I recognized a name... read... didn't know 'em... but, it listed 'and a passel' of nephews and nieces."  Being a non-grammatical degree dude, I still think I know it all.. I said, Ha Ha, KC Star, I gotya, mistake, error, typo.  Then, I looked up passel. "A large group of people or things."  Moffitt's probably laughing but I was today old when I learned that one.

I have mentioned before, obtaining my four year degree when I was wet behind the ears was mebbe the very best six years of my life. (Scroll to simpleton.)

Once a year, the buddies from our fraternity in college gather... from points near and far.. a golf tourney is held... usually anywhere from 60 to 80 show up...  we have a blast... relive, remember stories from long, long ago.  We, the guys I went to Jewell with, are just about the oldest there.. not THE oldest, more about him in a sec.

For every first sighting in a long, long time, a waddle across the room and a tight ole' "I loveya brother" there's the "Well no, he's not coming, he just went into the hospital today... and/or.. He's gonna be here to play, but, his wife's not doing too well, he's gonna leave right after.. and/or, "just got a new hip, can't"...  "nah, just had shoulder surgery"...   "with his neuropathy, he's coming, but.. he's only going to putt."  Fulcrums, hassles, passels, life, love, sometime tears.

We did the annual "hurry up and get over here, it's damn hot out" group photo - so, for later we can recall "I thought he passed in 2022, but nope, there's his picture in 2025."  I jest, but damnit darnit, we've lost a couple since last year and our age projects a passel more to come, damnit.

The temperature, and some scores, hit a hunnerd.  My buddy and I, neither of which can run a fitty yard dash in under two minutes now - were granted a cart to ride around the course (not play).. provide barbs, making fun of the old guys, laughing with the young guys.  Oh, and we had a cooler with dry ice, dozens of popsicles, we passed those out to the golfer dudes.

After, 60+ of us with varying size of bellies, thickness (or lack of) hair, hydrated, laughed, gathered to pass out awards, tell further war stories.   But first.......

A toast.  A too damn long (already) and growing (damnit) list of those gone before us.  Bless Greg Lebold, Tourney Organizer, for including "Dru Schultze, son of Vic Schultze".  Yes dangit more tears.  My take, ya don't feel, what's the point in being here?

The old guys showed REAL WELL in the prizes, and my very good old Buddy Grundy Newton, now 85, and his sons/grandson, won a 'skin' for $450.  Nice!  We ALL loveya Grundy!

Before departing back to points in MO, KS, IA, CO, SD, IL, etc...   a couple dozen plus of us went to the best damn Italian joint in the City for an "oh my goodness" wonderful meal.  We laughed, we cried, we ate (and ate), drank, we toasted.  We were 20, going on 68, or 70, or 73.

I, and others, had either gone to pee, oe smoke somewhere, as they'd passed out the tabs.  "Alex? (the waiter) I didn't get one?" (nor did another brother)..  "I dunno" was all he'd say.  I challenged the normal 'culprit', "nope, wasn't us"... then, the brother to my right.. "Doesn't matter Vic, we love you."  DAMNIT DARNIT - Libra, brothers, LIFE, they balance them damn scales, cause s'more tears.  (Victor, you do do [pronounced 'dough dough'] pay it forward.  I will, and thank you.

Teeters totter, it's an up down world, amidst the hassles ya take some time to laugh, cry, remember back, love, hug, laugh, make fun of, self depricate - those in your passel.  I'm glad I learned that word - it's been good group therapy. Life, at 20 when you're 72 is perty damn good.

Hug someone - whilst we still can.

Love, Victurd

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