Eh, sorry. Slipped.
It ain't Thanksgiving, yet, ain't every day thanksgiving? I'm gonna mebbe put you to sleep relating "things over the years that have made me really, really happy.. really really appreciative of this 'ride'." Exit, Stage Left if you wanna.... or, hopefully, some hits home with you too.
I loved childhood. Childhood is like being retired, but, you can still move, you ain't got all the wrinkles - and, almost without exception, everyone you've ever loved is still on planet Earth. Calgon, take me away to a day where Granny had her apron on, the plates were a clankin', Grandpa rocked and whistled - cousins were everywhere, apple pies stayed warm atop the heater thingy in the living room - the prevailing thought, it'll be like this forever, right?
Ultimately, it was time to drive home. Home was, thankfully, where dogs (sans leash) and 9 year olds (sans old people), could walk together downtown to buy a soda pop... play Indian Ball... jump a brook.. build a fort... play Hill Dill... catch a lightening bug... WIFFLE BALL.. and s'more wiffle ball.
Neighbors. Neighbors were friends. Good ones. Some were older - show respect.. some were younger, let 'em hit the ball, make it to first base safely. Laughter, sweat, skinned knees, Mercurochrome, iron on knee patches, "First one to see the streetlights on", happened. Not to mention a pitcher of Kool-Aid on 90 degree days, and, a warming cup of hot chocolate once the sledding was over.
Sitting. Sitting here thinking about all that, remembering sooo much of yesteryear, bein' a kid - causes happy.
Model T, as in, 16+ "where do we wanna go?" Freedom was no longer walking to the basement of Mattingly's to buy a fitty cent toy.... it was 4 lads, pooling spare change for enough gas to get it to Antioch Shopping Center for whatever. Bowling, slot car racing, women chasing. Glad we never caught any, "The hell would we have done then?"
Music. We were past the days of Shari Lewis and Lambchop singing the duet Tiki Tiki Timbo - we (NOW LISTEN CLOSE SONNY WHEN I TELL THIS ONE).. we, grew up in the greatest musical era EVER... now, 60+ years later, the bands we heard on WHB on Vivian Road en route to Antioch, are STILL dominating airwaves, albeit entitled classic rock. Twas just that, classic.
Within them classic rockers, the songs, groups, were just as diverse as who are the people in your neighborhood, in your neighborhood. We could like what we liked, listen to buddy's favs and we never hadta snapchat agin it, instagram, X, FB it, whadever, we shared, enjoyed, appreciated.
Pitter patter... damn it does matter. Attraction. To me, it's one of the coolest 'inventions' ever. A reason to take a second, third look in the mirror before you left home. "No mom! I can't wear that any more!"... A meeting of eyes in passing, followed by a smile could fuelya for a month. "What'd she say? Was she with anyone? Did you hear my name? Don't YOU thinks she's the bomb too?!"
Plaza Theater... downstairs rec room.. The Low Road... First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage. Pictures are in there somewhere. 672 of 'em at the wedding, which, usually, after the first few weeks, the bride and groom are the only ones to peek at 'em every once in awhile. Pictures of Junior. And MORE pictures of Junior. Thankfully, at our now age, we are not forced to look at damn near daily photographic progression of ourselves for the next three years.
Years later.. "Is that pic Timmy or Tina?" Was that the house on Main, or, Lee Drive? Remember that outfit you had? Can you believe we actually LOVED that hideous couch? There's MAGIC ! Dang I miss that hound.
Pets. Today, on the nifty local "Swap and Shop" folks brag when selling an item, "Smoke free, pet free home." Thankfully, I've lived a life of calling BS to that. In fact, I once sold something online, can't remember what, but I listed it with the moniker "we have dogs, cats, and we smoke like fiends." Not that smoking is cool, but, hopefully you get the point. Enriched. We're enriched by our animals. May not be your thing, and that's the cool part of our age, that's ok. To each, his, her own.
Speaking on diversity, Bubba (Forrest's friend) had 21 ways to prepare shrimp - among them, BBQ'ed, boiled, broiled, baked, sauteed, pan-fried, deep-fried - yada. Same with us, friends. We have school friends, coworker friends, church friends, neighbor friends, best friends, distant friends, teammate friends, book club, scouting, band, choir, model airplane, hobby friends... as many, if not more, than ways Bubba has showing off shrimp. Friends fill up hours and hours of our lives. I golf, 2, sometimes 3 times a week with school chums of 60+ years ago. There are groups within groups of friends in my life - they too are lifelong buds, plan really cool travel trips, concerts, new restaurant sampling, this, that - we'd be pretty damn lonely without friends.
Family. Extended family. Reunions. Reunion pics. "Nope, that's not Gladys, that's Aunt Opal, Glady's mom."
Chairs. Chairs have made me happy. School chairs, hopefully somewhere in the vicinity of patter-patter... chairs at stadiums for boo koo hours of fun, watching, cheering, winning, losing athletics. So many hours of making my butt impression in the easy chair watching the boob tube. Chairs at a play, a concert.
Back to family. Chairs, once full. Now, empty.
Memories. Thank you memories. We've still got the aforementioned photos - and, if you're lucky, maybe the last note, or caller ID message they left. Still, I could sit 24 hours straight in my easy chair, or, here at my computer - and smile as I recall days, times, wonderful memories, moments, of the departed.
Weather. Yes, it's damn near fitty degrees colder today in Misery than it was last week. That said, weather brings happiness. Boarding an airplane with a Winter Coat, changing into shorts to get ready to deplane in the Tropic. "NO SCHOOL TODAY MOM! SNOW DAY, HOT DAMN, er, I MEAN DARN!"
The memories of the screened in porch and all the changes on the other sidea the screen. Yum. The birds play accompanying 'music', and ha ha, ya little basta' bugs, you can't get me here!
A personal story. VICTOR, don't ass it up. You've done well (don't let it go to your head) in keeping this where, we, all, can kinda share memories similar to the ones you've shared. Keep your personal crap outta here.
Wow. OK, but sorry, can't. Please, our secret, the following will self destruct in two minutes. I lived with a gal for three years. She had a WONDERFUL screened in porch built while I lived there. We had many very good evenings out there, but, twas missing something. "Let's get a TV for out here!" Nah, we don't need a TV. I persisted. She ultimately caved. TV, yum, movies, sports, lots, with the pleasantry of nature, coupled by the safety, bug free moments. Then, WE BROKE UP.
Oh hell. Well, I gathered my stuff (including the TV I bought for the porch), gotta place, moved. One day I was flipping the Roku thingy and up pops "NETFLIX". Hmmmmm. She had that. Forgive me Father, I committed TV Piracy. When Netflix popped up, it listed the family names on the account. For the purpose of this blog, I'll use the fictitious name "Rhonda"... I clicked 'Rhonda', and, for four very fun years (until my TV shot craps) I got free Netflix. That's a lotta Breaking Bad, Shameless and Sam Elliott, whatever that show was called. Again, sorry. Kinda.
I'll get outta your hair. Oh yeah, hair. That makes me happy too. The diversity therein. The lucky ones of us (HA HA HA) that still have it. The colors, trends, beehives, mullets, do's we've seen over the years. Fun.
So... Yes, I played golf. I do feel better. MAYBE, I'll get the hell outta Dodge in January - but mostly, sorry for the cranky blog the other day. Life is good.
It's really good, been that way, and I foresee nuttin' but good.
Love you, Victurd
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