It is the evening of the day.......

This here is a re-write.  Nowadays, hells bells, ya never know.  Could be AI.  Could be completely fictional. Could be 'bleat'... Huh?  Yeah, just written to git ur dayum goat.  I say I say, it's a re-write, which of course, means I stole it, added some, subtracted a lot, just rearranged it a tad. OK, fine, call it plagiarism if  ya want.  Ya seen the car I drive?  I love my car, it just happens to be a 2002 Buick Century, this, or, that is, I hopes that shows I ain't getting rich here.  Gracias.

1965.  Manager Andrew Oldham locked Mick Jagger and Keith Richards in the kitchen of their Wilesden flat. (For you bloody 'mericans, that is an apartment), told 'em to write. "Not another blues song, not a copy of a favorite, something new."

Money.  All about money.  Ain't everything? (Almost).  The Stones were the equivalent of the #3 hitter in the batting line up..  Oh, great contact, important, smack the ball with frequency - but, the cleanup hitter, the one everyone revered, bowed to, was clearly The Beatles.

The Beatles had a tad of everything.  Influence, cultural phenomenon, new/changed popular music - AND, they wrote their own $tuff.  Oldham (pay attention here, he's the Stones manager) recognized, the Beatles not only got buckaroos for good tunes played, they capitalized on the publishing royalties songwriters receive.  So...

He locked 'em in that flat. "Write" he'd said... and, "ya ain't gettin' outta this flat until you've written a song, again, no blues, no copies." That was a foreign language for Mick, Keith.  Keith reacted with "Write?  Who do you think I am, Mr. Bigstuff?"... no, hold on damnit, that wasn't it.  "Write?  Who do you think I am? John Lennon? That's somebody else's job, my job is to play the guitar."

So............. years, and years later, with complaints from neighbors about the stinch, authorities busted down the door, found Mick stiff, flat on the ground next to torn up 8 and a half by 11's (he'd expired after many attempts to write, never could Get No Satisfaction). Meanwhile, Keith was fine, now 107 years old.

OK, sorry.  Funnin.  I can't sing and I can't write, but is it OK to fun?

They finally emerged with the lyrics to the song "As Tears Go By".  Keith wasn't a fan, called it 'tripe'.  Sir Mick said "It's a very melancholy song for a 21-year old to write. The evening of the day, watching children play - it's very dumb and naive, but it's got a very sad sort of thing about it, almost like an older person might write."

It is the evening of the day
I sit and watch the children play
Smiling faces I can see
But not for me
I sit and watch
As tears go by

Boy howdy Mick, I so agree.  No, not with the 'very dumb and naive', but about the 'as if an old person wrote it.'  I don't speak for everyone (but, if I did, 47'd be gone, SORRY, kinda, not).. I don't speak for all old farts, but i think the majority of us, the lyrics are assuredly timely today.

My riches can't buy everything
I want to hear the children sing
All I hear is the sound
Of rain falling on the ground
I sit and watch
As tears go by

Life's kinda an oxymoron ain't it?  Awfully good...  bittersweet..  definite maybe..  eloquent silence... festive tranquility... icy hot...  loud whisper... melancholy merriment.. sad smile...

It is the evening of the day
I sit and watch the children play
Smiling faces I can see
But not for me
I sit and watch
As tears go by

ANY age is a good age, but... I get it.  Happy sad.  We see a reflection of our life in children... Victor, that was deep. I know, sometimes I get sappy. Sorry, slipped.  Life today finds us without handsprings, cartwheels and do-overs - yet, surrounded by a richness of memory, more happy than stressy moments.. still, occasionally tears go by.

Victor, "Big Boys don't cry".  NO dangit, Frankie Valli said "Big GIRLS, they don't cry."  Song for another day.  I ain't afeared to admit, I occasionallly tear up.  Some happy, some sad.  We're mid drought, so whichever, helps.

There is perhaps a touch of irony it was decided "As Tears Go By" would go on the B-side of a 45.  The other side?

19th Nervous Breakdown.

Long(er) live Keith... Mick too.

Love, Victurd

(If ya wanna go back in time, call Doc Brown. No, whoops, sorry. Copy, paste the below to see the youngster Mick, 21 I believe, and Keith, 57 I think he was.)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=37_J7zpD2ks

151, but who's counting........

Or, stealing lyrics from Frank....... "When I was 72, it was a very good year."

The 151 is the number of blogs this year...   Victor, it ain't the end of the year?  I know, but, I don't ordinarily do things ordinarily.

I was gonna recap all the stupid lyrics I speeled, the 'meat' of some blogs, highlights, lowlights, but hells bells... pretty sure you were bored the first time, why suffer again?

Among the clutter, bucket lists I ain't completed, filed (a nice term for found laying around) amid the grocery lists I forgot to take to the Piggly.

I looked up all the emotions normal people experience, in a year's time, Googled it, AI that is, whadever ya wanna call research nowadays, and I learn:  joy, happiness, sadness, fear, anger, surprise, disgust.  Then, AI or Google or whadever, suggested we also have "Complex and varied emotions" like:

Love and affection, anxiety and stress, hope and optimism, loneliness, contentment and peace, boredom, pride, shame and guilt, jealousy/envy, awe and wonder, frustration, empathy and compassion.  That stuff.

I'm finding, maybe you is too...... life is interesting.  It ain't no sprint.  Nope.  It's not a lap around the track, huh uh.  It's a a GD (calm down, that means GOSH DARN) steeplechase (you know, obstacles)... or, a barrel race, and, before ya run off, it too is, can be, a wonderful lazy river.

It ain't no controlled chamber where the temp, wind, etc, stays the same 24/7, 365.. unless that is, ya live in San Diego like Moffitt... hell they never vary ten degrees from 70.  I hate 'em.  Well, no, I don't.  Scroll up there somewheres they talk about jealousy/envy.

We like differn't numbers... of course there's 2... young punks like 6 and 7, why, no idea... folks either love/worship 47, or, turn the channel as soon as they see 47. It is said One is the loneliest.. prolly true (Liz suggested I get a cat, good idea too).

There's people we don't like...... people we'd liketa like (ok damnit, you asked, [didn't you?] Sara Haines, Lara Spencer and the local morning news lady on ABC, weather lady tain't bad neither.  And now, the people I don't like VICTOR! STOP!  You?

Sadly, "How bout those Chiefs" is no longer a good way to break up a Political conversation.  Ifn's ya get sideways with Aunt Ethel or Uncle Chariie at the Thanksgiving table, come see me at the golf course, I getta work.  (Yes, I meant 'getta'.)

Most importantly, we're still alive, although be it in varying forms, degrees.  Sadly, yes, loss has happened in many of our lives.  Goes to show, enjoy every moment, of course we never know.

Don't stop, thinking about tomorrow.  Don't stop believin'. Stop in the name of love, no, that one ain't right... Stop Stop Stop by the Hollies, or, Alto Alto Alto ifn's you're in Mehico, them basta's'll getya if ya dont.  I can't stop loving you (them three or four up there, I know, I'm an idiot, but, did you just like realize that?) 

Who'll stop the rain (quit complaining, we're damn near drought conditions, we need it), 

Thus far, thankfully, life here ain't stopped.  We might as well try to enjoy it eh?

Thank you, love you, stop by any time.  (Hell to the no, not my apartment, I'd need a month's notice... I'd take a picture so you could understand.. just trust me.)

Someone AI me a girlfriend, I didn't have that "love and affection" they referred to.  VICTOR?  They always run off.  Yeah, good point, nevermind.

Strangely, the first blog of the year was all about "Abby Normal."  Weird how, the more things change the more they stay the same.  Meet me at midnight, Mary, and don't let anyone know.

Seeya soon,

Love, Victurd

Great beans Aunt Bee!

Who said that?  Barn?  Ope? Floyd? Gomer?  Goober? Thelma Lou?  Helen?  Otis?  Ernest T? -> Close.

Well they came from Missouri with a banjo on their knee.  Or, banjos I guess.

Darlings they were.......... kinda.

If you remember mosta those names, congratulations, you're either real old, or a MeTV addict.

Early 1960's the heyday of Andy, Ope and Barn. and that aint Whistlin' Dixie (the whistle theme was actually called "The Fishin' Hole.")

The Darlings were a fictitious musically inclined group of Hillbillies that lived in a shack, somewhere near neighboring Mayberry.  Appeared in, I think, 8 episodes of "Andy"... Of course they were real people, composed of Briscoe, the Pops, "Briscoe Darling, tiller of soil, feller of trees" as he liked to call himself.

Daughter Charlene...  Wiki say "an attractive but naïve young, blonde woman who often causes trouble for Sheriff Taylor and his family with her flirtatious behavior and her belief in mountain lore. She is also the original object of desire for Ernest T. Bass."

Then there was the boys.... The Darlings.  Four of 'em.  They almost never spoke, and, their names were contradictory from episode to episode.  If you're reading this junk, don't compliment me, it's all from Wiki.  I cheat.  Plagiarize, that.

The boys were so quiet...... Ed McMahon would ask Johnny "How quiet were they?" (That ain't in Wiki...well, it probably is somewhar, but it ain't got nuttin to do with Andy, the Darlings.)  As a running gag, Andy would say 'Howdy" to the boys, and always got blank stares in return.  He'd say to Brisoe (Pops) "The boys are talkative today"...  swing and a miss on the irony, Brisoe answered "They all keyed up" (over the antics of Ernest T. Bass's quest for sister Charlene.

Or.......another band camp episode, Charlene has a baby daughter, Andy offers the boys "you must be proud to be the uncles".. which, received their pat blank stare... which, on que Briscoe responded "They all choked up."

In answer to the trivia over Aunt Bee's beans........The only lines spoken by the Darling boys occur in the jail scene of the episode "The Darlings Are Coming". Mitch can be heard to say, "About to pop." Another line was spoken by Doug. He could be heard saying, "Great beans, Aunt Bee."

A tad more on the Darling boys.  They was really the Dillards... the four boys.. the ones that "came from Missouri with a banjo on their knee.  Or, banjos I guess."  A legit bluegrass band that had moved from their home in Salem, Missouri to LA in 1962. Brothers Doug and Rodney Dillard, Mitch Jayne and Dean Webb.  Not long after their arrival, they signed up with an agency, and they were booked on The Andy Griffith Show.

And, thanks to a Facebook post today (I'm stealing) I'll make a short story, long:

"Why didn’t “The Darlings” talk on The Andy Griffith Show? From the very, very beginning, right when we were cast Andy had told us that we wouldn’t be paid as actors might be…we were musicians after all and as Andy said “there wouldn’t really be enough room for all of you to have lines anyhow.”

So we were each set to receive a couple hundred dollars, which was fine by us (remember we had just barely arrived from Missouri on our mission to “make it” as a band so you can imagine we were blown away to be on a successful television show).

But then Andy said something that changed our lives forever (and incidentally this also changed the entire genre of bluegrass forever) - he said “now what I will do is allow you all to record/perform your original bluegrass songs and we’ll use them on the show…plus I’ll let you retain the rights to those songs so that you can own them going forward…”

What does this mean? It means that the world has heard our songs like “Dooley” and “There is a Time” nearly every single day for the past 60+ years! Our appearances, along with Flatt & Scruggs’ appearances on The Beverly Hillbillies, turned bluegrass from a regional art form to something known in the mainstream and our songs became bluegrass classics so well known and ubiquitous that many forget we wrote them!

Andy could have made us perform public domain songs or insisted that his company own the publishing of our songs but no, he was so kind and generous to do that for us.

So we never talked on the #1 television show of all time, well, almost never for you trivia buffs, but we were given a gift beyond measure for our musical careers, a gift that really did change an entire music genre as well…

Very thankful for Andy Griffith!"

One more thing. Ya hear banjos? In yet another episode (1963), "Briscoe Declares for Aunt Bee" (I GOTTA go back and see that one...).. The boys performed the first widespread rendition of Guitar Boogie Smith's "Fruedin' Banjos" which, is actually Dueling Banjos.

So... the Missouri connection.

So... mebbe next time you's in the Ozarks..... mebbe Eldon, Camdenton, Van Buren, Popler Bluff, Salem, and ya hear banjos, ya might oughta run.

Right Ned?

Love, Victurd

Ahm, as an added bonus (ha, as is anything in my blog[s] is considered a bonus), copy, right click, then click 'open' on the below!

https://youtu.be/uhUnyAu-LQI

Let it be.........

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be
And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

Victor?  You've done this one before.

Ya know, life is weird.  I was just reading a fellow idiot's blog (hey, seems to be the way of the World today, name call, eh, why not)... and fellow idiot talked to himself in his blog, much like "Victor?  You've done this one before."

The pressing theme is, let it be.  Alfred E. Neuman, "WHAT?  ME WORRY?"

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be 

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

And when the broken-hearted people living in the world agree
There will be an answer, let it be
For though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see
There will be an answer, let it be

Ain't we all been broken-hearted, somewhere, at some point in our lives?  Liar liar pants on fire if yo' answer was "NO!"  Life is all about retrospect. And yes, with that comes shoulda woulda coulda.

It's like Dolly said, VICTOR DAMNIT YOU CAN'T COMBINE TWO SONGS IN ONE BLOG!

Ahem.  Let it be.  Like Dolly said "Fine and dandy Lord it's like a hard candy ChristmasI'm barely getting through tomorrow But still I won't let Sorow bring me way down..  I'll be fine and dandy..Lord it's like a hard candy Christmas....I'm barely getting through tomorrow..But still I won't let Sorrow bring me way down

And no, yain't gotta call 911, I'm perfectly fine.  Really fine in fact. I just looked in the mirror and I fer sure ain't anorexic! FULL I am, in fact. Full and blessed. The shoulda woulda coulda, different for each of us... taint no such thing as perfection in life.  Try our best, best we can do.  Mo' money, bigger house, this relationship, that, in 1999 I shoulda.. nah, we can't do that.  Let it be.

We all, I think, have had some really yummy things happen in our lives.  Much, much love. Lucky we are.  I spoke to someone the other day (mighta already told this.. ha, let it be).. but she really didn't experience love within her nuclear family. Rather than using all that as a crutch to justify her ownself being ugly, addicted, mean, yucky - instead, she let it be and has turned it into very much a positive with her own children, grandchildren in her life.  Yum.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Yeah, there will be an answer, let it be
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be
(Guitar Solo by Harrison)

Ya know, I thought about wiping ole George's name out there... then thought, "Let it be"...The Beatles were the bomb... I was lucky to take the Road to Hana (if you've been, you know) to see where Mr. George lived... I never knew the reasoning or whointhehell Clapton's Layla was about - nor, any of the "we both loved her" between he, George.  Sorry, came outta leftfield. Let it be Victor. OK, will.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be

Whisper words of wisdom, let itu be

Other crap I thought about writing today..  VICTOR, WHO CARES?  Let it be Victor. I was gonna do a thing on 'all you can do in an hour'.  I watched an interesting youtube video on that.... dude was a Brti, a tad hard to understand.. I could see the number of pushups, situps, pullups, steps, yada... but then walking, running, that stuff always listed what's a km, I voted to hell with it, let it be... and here I am.

Another thought........ AYE YAI YAI VICTOR, ENOUGH!  Let it be... another thought was children.  I, and I hope we all, love children.  As an elementary PE teacher, I SO ENJOYED their inquisitive, 'wonder of the unknown' (in what we'll do today).. BIG, wide eyes and smiles...  that, kinda, is life for them all the time.  Yum. (More in a sec)...

And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me
Shine until tomorrow, let it be
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be 

There will be an answer, let it be 

Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be 

There will be an answer, let it be 

Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be 

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

Back to them little kids...  They find, life and learning about it, is all, or can all, be simplified, enhanced, eased, by the lyrics of Paul... just as we old farts too, can learn. Let it be, if we really let it, helps big time.

Here's to old dogs, new tricks, arf arf......

Love, Victurd

Please Mr. Postman......

Or mebbe, Message in a Bottle...... and don't forget Little Stevie ('cept, forget little cause he ain't that no more)..  "Signed Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours."

Old dogs, new tricks.

I was today old when I learned, the very first known messengers were in Egypt, 2400 BC, and they delivered documents and building materials for pyramids.  (Holy crap, no liftgates, forklifts, no two wheelers, even no wheelbarrows or Bengay.  Did they even have wheels then?)

And then, again, today old. I learn in Greece, shortly after victory in 490 BC in the Battle of Marathon, a courier ran 26 miles to announce this incredible feat - ceptin, he died of exhaustion enroute.

Then there was pigeons, 1870, French Navy trained 'em to go Sea to Land (and back) to gain military advantage.

Horses, chariots in the Roman Empire... and of course, the good ole US of A Pony Express, begun right 'cheer in our neighbor St. Joseph, Missouri.

Then there was camels.... dogs... 

Important stuff......... delivered.

Then, in 1907, two teenagers and their bicycles used a hunnerd bucks to start the American Messenger Service, which, has grown a tad as today it's better known as UPS.

Of course, nowadays, we're a handheld away from messaging cousin Lupe in Paris, or, brother Ben in Acapulco... or even one's spouse, who is in the kitchen "Honey, can you bring me another beer?"

Messages today. Auto correct happens, butchers.  Regular ole message can be misconstrued, misread, mistakes, cause all kindsa worry, angst, that.

Come and listen to a story about a man named Jed.

Actually, it was my Uncle Jim, may he RIP.  His message is one, simple, fast, and I OH SO wanna spout out sometimes when I get down, watch the dayum news too long, hear of things that get my goat (Goats never delivered messages that I recall.. bahhhhd idea I guess)... anyways, when I'm mad at the world.

Pardon my (Actually Jim's) French...   Whenever sneeze happened, he always, VERY LOUDLY [messaged] achoo "AHHHH SHITTTT!!!"

Spot on Uncle Jim, spot on..  Sorry, but not really,

Love, Victurd

FEED ME SEYMOUR!

An acorn fell and hit me on the head. Aghast, I must run, not walk, and warn..... Warn who?  You name it... Henny Penny.. Cocky Locky... the King (Andy?  Patrick? Travis? Clark?)..  WE LOST! LIFE, AS WE KNOW IT, IS OVER!

Woke up, fell outta bed (ie, I guess, Chicken Little) it wasn't the sky that was falling, twas me.

EXTRA EXTRA, READ ALL ABOUT IT....... (Do I haveta?)..   Yes you Little Chicken, you must.

Andy and Patrick shouldered the blame... The reporters told us the why it happened.....They even shared snippets of the early good tidings KC fans (yes, I am one) spoke of for our upcoming Thanksgiving and Christmas:    

"Dude, we suck again."...... and anudder....    "Yep,  it's over."....... next.......  "Wasting a prime Mahomes year because the defense has zero pass rush and can't get off the field on 3^rd down:... and let's toss in "Embarrassment, that all it is."  and yet one more, perhaps looking positively at it cause mebbe he didn't get thumped by no acorn "Well, I guess the good news is that after the season I may finally be able to afford some Chief's gear."

A nation finally gets to make fun of us.  That's OK, I was actually kinda getting tired of Jake from State Farm, The Eros Tour and "I just KNOW Clark Hunt is paying the referees, WHY ain't they investigating?"  I'd rather see Patrick doing a local Vinson Morgage ad... Kelce, a "Mike's got this" 3am ad... 

When I was 17, it was a very good year (right Frank?)..  An AFL team had moved to our fine City five years earlier.  Two leagues merged, lo and behold, in January that year the Chiefs won the Super Bowl (named such because of our owner's suggestion "Let's name the game something fun, like Super Ball"

Usn's back then gathered, went to the parade. Then, watched em annually, or more.  Feed me (s'more) Seymour.  "It'll be like this every year won't it Hank?"  Uh huh, right.  Meanwhile, life happened.  Graduation.  Jobs. Grind. Marriages. Children  Divorces. Wars. Fads. Music invasion. 401K's skyrocketing, bankrupt companies, , oops, 2008 (ACORNS! LOOK OUT!).. Finally, after hair loss, loss of many loved ones, pounds, many pounds gained (wrinkles too).. FITTY.. Yes FITTY years later, it happened again.  Thank you Clark for paying those refs!

When I was 32, it was a very good year.  You see, that same year the Chiefs won the Super Bowl when I was 17, we gained a Major League Baseball lteam. Baseball Ray.  After years and YEARS of HUGE losses, near misses happened.  Twas always the damn Yankees. (Hated, much like folks hated the Patriots, anything Dallas Cowboys, The Lakers, Dodgers - and, most recently the Chiefs.)..  Finally, a pennant. Parade. Feed me (s'more) Seymour.  "It'll be like this every year won't it Hank?"

This time, it took 30 years.  Scroll to 2015.  Half the damn town owned, wore, Royal's Blue.  Regular ole regular Kansas City restaurants would break out in cheer "LET'S GO ROYALS" (stomp your feet..  stomp stomp, stomp stomp stomp)... Snotnoses, 17, and much younger dreamed.  Feed me (s'more) Seymour.  "It'll be like this every year won't it Hank?"

So what's the end game Victor?  There really ain't one, and that, in part, is the beauty of it.  Most of the time, acorns fall from trees, are gobbled up by deer, squirrels, pigs and the like.. one or two BOP folks on the head... 

Along the way..  much happens.  Many losses.  Ya win some, ya lose some.  Buddy'a mine, whenever the MLB strike was.. "Never ever watching again."  Don't tell, he now pays monthly for FanDuel.  Anudder buddy, he burnt ever lick'a Chief's gear he owned when the lost the Super Bowl in 2021. Go look in his closet today. Uh huh.

Once inawhile, an acorn doesn't get seen by Bambi, Rocket J, Porky.. survives.. a sapling happens.  Rain, sun, s'more, growth happens.  Awkward looking in infancy, one day, finally, many rings around a spectacular Oak tree happens.

In spitea some saplings not making it (can you say Kansas City Kings..  Kansas City Scouts)... years and years and years of last place, next to last place, second place, yada..  grandness ultimately wins out.

(Carry on wayward son.. no. that aint it... carry on Frank) But now the days grow short I'm in the autumn of the year and now I think of my life.. as vintage from fine old kegs..   From the brim to the dregs.. and it poured sweet and clear.... it was a very good year.

Feed me Seymour.  Going to wash my Royal's gear, pitchers and catchers report soon.  VICTURD!! Ain'tno fat lady sung yet, hang on!  We gots Andy, Patrick, Travis, Big Chris.. Veach, give 'em a break.

Fanatic = a person filled with excessive and single-minded zeal.

Feed me Seymour.  Ever eat a pine tree? Er, I mean acorn?

Love, Victurd

(Congrats to Terry and his Broncos!)

Also ran's......

Webster, 1758 - 1843, was 'that day's' Dewey Decimal, AOL, Yahoo, Google, AI, yada. He noted of 'Also ran's', "One that is of little importance, especially competitively.... a horse or dog that finishes out of the money in a race."

As we approach Thanksgiving (Aye yai yai, howinthehell is he gonna weave this one together)....  ahem, as we approach Thanksgiving, we annually stop children, what's the sound everybody look what's going down........ no, damnit that ain't it.

We annually talk, remember, share, pray, list - our win, place and show reasons for what we're thankful for.  Stuff like family (mom, dad, granny, gramps, sibs, kids, grandkids, aunts, uncs, cousins, steps, inlaws, yada)... pets (hounds, kitties, rabbits, hamsters, etc).. friends (BFF's, classmates, coworkers, yada)..... not necessarily in that order, but, sometimes!

Also ran things we're thankful for, shouldn't, carry negative connotation - for, things (at least things I'm thinking of) very much add to happiness, good feel in life - thus, we're thankful.

We turn the key, or, touch the fob, and presto, the car starts.  We don't really even stop once a year to thinka it, but, aye yai yai, should it not start, we call it every name in the book except 'woah, or atta girl Nellie.'  Shouldn't.  It (car starting) makes our lives so so much easier, happy.)

Them eyes opening, daily. We often get stuck in the 'good gosh, whadda I gotta do today, and it's an instant neg-a-tory.  Instead, when we open the peepers, Thank You Lord, I getta nuther day (be it Winter Spring Summer or Fall.... Sunday Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday Friday Saturday...  work day, day off, golf, church, book club, bunko, meeting with friends, etc..... Thank you for (another) eye opening opportunity.

Smiles from folks we have no idea who they are, big'ns, little'ns, young, old, you name it......... imaging a day, or worse, days, of not having those beautiful, quick gifts in our lives.  Yummy ivy, so to speak, the opposite of poison ivy, yet both 'rub off'.  Thank you thank you, whoeverintheheck you are.  You make our days better.

Pennies on the ground face up, quarters left in Aldi's carts...dollars found in our jeans at laundry time.

Leftovers in the fridge - best friend of us 'too tired to cook' folks.

Electricity, heat, fans, fireplaces, fire pits, 25 year light bulbs (seeya again .when I'm 98 big fella).... and, the Dave Clark Five would remind us of USB's, charger cords that, charge us, I said over and over and over again........

Facebook - or, I guess any social platform that affords entertainment, enlightenment.  Three of the four in my/our golf foursome, refuse to enlist, envision disgust, cliquishness, gossip, swindlers, zero good of being there, participating.  I vote, thank you Facebook (whadever, X, Instagram, Tik, Snap, that stuff)...   I laugh, I cry (most times a good cry).. things make me think.. there are jokes, funny vids, and maybe the best part, frequent 'touch' of, with friends. Llittle BIG things that brighten a day.

Grocery store loss leaders.  Sam's Club $2.77 TWO pieces of pizza AND the extra large soda of your choice.  Zarda's Ten Buck Classic Lunch (classic sandwich and classic side)...  WENDY'S CHILI. - don't NEVA' change a thing about it, and PLEASE, don't close OUR local one!

Big Screen TV's us 5 figure income folks can even afford.  Kids with jackets, good shoes, food on the table.

Anyone that observes a person possibly needing assistance with a regular ole regular chore, stops, and asks if that person needs assistance.  As one of affliction, I rarely take the help, but man oh man do I thank them, and the offer really makes me feel good about man and womankind. 

Sounds.  Sirens, we're safe.  Mowers, we're beautifying.  Jackhammers, skid steers, bobcats, cones, bright colored coats on hardworking folks - our infrastructure is being assured a nice tomorrow. Thank you, today.

The Sun, the Moon. Light, dark.  AM time, PM time.  Tides.  Morning coffee, and yeah, mebbe the nightcap of a beer, glass of wine, or, green tea, whadever floats your boat.

Boats that float, swim float toys that ain't punctured, clouds floating in the sky.

Internal voices that, tap me on the shoulder, remind, Victor, maybe it's time to stop. Thank you.

Ugly has, and is gonna continue to happen.  War. Political division.  Sadly, discrimination of all types.  Loss, THE very hardest to swallow.

Organ donors.  I truly believe the most touching thing I've ever witnessed... was a video of an older gentleman, walking a bride down the aisle.  He didn't know her, until he found out she was able to continue her own life, thanks to the heart transplant she received from his own daughter.  No words.  Or maybe, not enough words.  Simply beautiful. My own son was an organ donor in March of this year, and that literally makes me one very proud papa.

Thank goodness, of course, for the Win, Place and Show things we stop and give thanks to every November.......

ALSO RAN'S (erroneously labeled)........ please know you too play a huge role in the recipe for a yummy life.

Happy day, Love, Victurd

QUESTION EVERYTHING!

I ain't sure if that originated in Haight Ashbury...  or mebbe Max Yasgur's neighbors, mebbe the concert-goers.... coulda even been Maynard G Krebs,  mebbe some beatnik in Greenwich Village, I dunno.. So, rather than bore you with crap I question - let's keep the musical theme here...  ie,

"Why can't we be friends"...... well, ya got BO.  Ahm, I'm not fond of (smart, dumb, fat, skinny, differnt religion/beliefs, too small, too tall, richer, poorer, ya never caught a rabbit, that, all that stuff)

"Should I stay or should I go?"  Where my fellow old codgers and I play golf... houses line the first five holes of the golf course, ie, in sight to many residents.  That's why it's recommended, at our age and with our growing prostates, ALWAYS stay AND go... then.. you can make it to hide, pee behind the trees on hole 6.      

"What's love got to do, got to do with it?"      Heck Tina, you were with Ike, you should know... but, if you really wanna answer...  you got a month so we can visit about it?    

"Where have all the flowers gone?"  Damnit Pete we had a frost Sunday, get with the program.

"What's your name?"  Jose Jimenez,...  Bond, James Bond... Puddin' Tane and don't ask again.  You can call me Ray, or you can call me Jay, or you can call me RJ or you can call me RJJ, but you doesn't have to call me Johnson.

"Why does it hurt when I pee?"  FRANK ZAPPA, did you REALLY write that song?  Geez..  Usually sir, it's a UTI.

"Listen, do da doo, do you want to know a secret?"  I don't repeat gossip, so please listen close the first time.

"Is that all there is?"  Damnit Peggy, that hurt, and, was kinda personal ya know?

"Who do you think you are?"  Mr. Bigstuff?  Well, as a kid, wanted to be Stan the Man.  The Mick came to mind too.  Then, when I saw my first curveball, I reduced that to just hoping to make the Bigs like Uecker.  Ended up saying screw it all, played slow pitch and drank beer until I was 65.

"Do you hear what I hear?"  Nuh uh, i got tinnitus... One time, band camp, truth,  moth flew in my ear. It was like In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida on steroids....  Vincent, you?... Vincent???... Vincent?!!!!

"Do you believe in magic?"  Eh, he was alright. I thought Bird, Kobe were better.

"Ain't that Peculiar?"  Well Marvin, Highway 49 is confusing..  three cities kinda run together, but what you're referring to is actually Raymore.

"Are you experienced?"  Oh heck yeah, I did this exact same thing for ten years where I worked.  Well what happened? They moved and didn't tell me where to.

"Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I'm 64"  Damnit Victurd, come in outta the rain, oh, and you're 73 now.

"Will you still love me tomorrow?"   Don't do it Meatloaf.

"Who let the dogs out?"   OH CRAP, I forgot!  HONEY?""  Don't start the Roomba on the living room carpet yet!

"Have you ever seen the rain?"   Why yes, I was just out sittin' in it, that lady yelled at me to come inside.

"Are you lonesome tonight?"...   Alvin?..    Alvin??    Alvin????   "ALVIN!!!!!!"  OK!!!!!, and mebbe

"Why don't we do it in the road?"..   Duh, didn't you see that damn squirrel we drove by it a bit ago?

"Why don't you come over?"     I've got an itchy itchy rash.  Help, I've fallen and I can't get up.  Can't, I've got the heeeee beeeee geeeee beeeeees.

"Why should we end this way?"    Good question Chuck, and, I wanna apologize, I thought this might be fun. Instead, I think it's more a cure for insomnia.

"Am I wrong?"   No Victurd, it is pretty boring.    

"How do I say goodbye?"   Usually Victurd, you just say "Love, Victurd"

Love, Victurd

                                                                                                                          

The future of low lifes... zero societal contributions... danger Will Robinson......

Come and listen to my story bout some Sigma Nu's.. 

A poor motley bunch, you know in life they'll probably lose....

If stories 'bout folks ya don't know aren't appealing to you, unnerstand, turn left here.

Otherwise, please know... twas said, harken back to the early 70's.....

Trouble.... Oh we got trouble... 

Right here in Our City (right here in Our City)

Can't trust em.  Longhairs.  All of 'em hide behind their alias's.. Squat, Whale, Boz, Coxie, Eats, Bouncer, Bear, Plug, Dude, Chopper, Double D, Pie, Tip, Pup, Trout, Buff, Gibby, Koontzie, Ship, Spence, Preverb, Cooks, Too Tall (aka Smokin' Joe) and on and on and on.  SNAKES!  All of em!

And you tell me, over and over and over again, my friend... how you don't believe we're on the eve of destruction.

Their collars and cuffs were never neat, weeks without shavin', clean jeans, what's that?  HOARDERS! THIEVES? NOT TO BE TRUSTED!  Street lamps, For Sale Signs, Welcome mats from nearby restaurants, hunnerds of pumpkins, PLEASE call The City Code Inspector...  or..   The Dean..  (Again.... and again... and again.)

We tried... we tried, but we couldn't do it... no one could save just one.  We put 'em on probation.. .we took their off campus meal privilege away, made 'em sit in the cafeteria like choir boys amongst all the do gooders, hopin' it'd rub off... we canceled their dances, monitored them going to classes, finally forced a group back into the dorm...  one, we even bid adieu after his Freshman year, told "We don't want your type around here." Editor's note, not universal decisions...  decisions of a few.

We didn't close 'em down in time to get that list of no goods up there... (they're assuredly in nearby county jails, Jeff City, Leavenworth, yada, by now)  BUT, we eventually got 'em.

Now, our college is thriving.

Ahm, OK.

I look above and I see School Teachers. Coaches, successful coaches, several in State Hall of Fames, some, with High School gyms, ballfields named in their honor. Deacons in the Church. One, daily, posts a favorite Biblical scripture for all.  They sit on boards of charitable organizations, organize local fundraisers.  Education Principals, Administrators, AD's, even a long list of Superintendents.  Entrepreneurs, Doctors, Lawyers, Judges, CEO's, Bank Presidents.  Big, little things, like, one co-organizes a group of retirees to build handicap access ramps for those in need. Movers, shakers.

Loyal, dedicated men who have your back.  Lend a hand.  Smile, compliment, enjoy life, and try to uplift yours as well.  Doing big things, without forgetting the small things that lend for a good life.

Oh, and the one that was deemed "We don't want your kind around here" ???  Ahm, he went away to finish his undergrad.  Then Masters. Then Doctorate.  And, oh yeah, he got a job as a professor at a 'nearby liberal arts college', not to mention worked in his spare time on behalf of MLB teams and NFL teams, and, oh yeah, retired with honors from that 'nearby liberal arts college.'

To believe in the life of love.

To walk in the way of honor,

To serve in the light of truth

'This is the life, the way, and the light of Sigma Nu.

Please note, at our school there were many, many wonderful experiences.  We thankfully had many, many terrific leaders, professors, coaches, ancillary folks.  I'm reminded of the John Prine song and how we made it, "In spite of ourself."

Also, modeling clay COULD BE (and was) rough around the edges.  Yes, there should be consequence for bad decisions, actions. Rather than toss it all into the trash bin to harden, eventually to toss out, work on the mat congruently to mold it into a smoother, potentially greater piece of work.

I can't speak for all.  I think the vast majority of us had wonderful experiences in that time, era and place.  All I can relate it to is maybe, when the last male name of an ancestry goes thru and it's kinda sad there will be no continuation.  That said, we'll never die out, until we die out.

I gotta run, check my email.  Hey, there's one from my old school!  Wonder what they want?

Hi Rickety

Winter, by Henry Gibson......

So I'll ask you... would you rather jump in the pool... 90 degrees, REAL nice......or,

Scrape like hell, the windows of the 2002 Buick, of ice..... 

I know all about likes... Some of the people like Winter all of the time.... All of the people like Winter some of the time...  But you've got (bad) frosted breath if you think all of the people like Winter, all of the time - no ifs, ands or butts.  Personally, I'd think you're nuts.

I'd love to shoot hoops, 90 degrees, but realize, at 73, the sight of that might scareya...  trust me, it's better, thank Flick's  use of pole in "I double dog dareya." (Tongue not in cheek)

Today it hit 20... and to that I say.........

YES SW Airlines, I wanna get away....

Where to (Dear) Henry (Dear) Henry...   Canada? Alaska?  Upstate NY? Ha, that's absurd.....

Ms. Liza. (Dear Liza Dear Liza).. set my Compass, GPS, SOUTH,  so I can be a Snowbird...

Chirpy friends, who brag of yummy forecasts, ye of Florida, Texas, AZ, NM, SoCal, Mehico - I've blocked you, but just remember... 

It's only for Feb, Jan, Dec, November...

I no likey, snow, ice, 'snain, ice melt, stickshift on'a vely slick hill.. slip sliding, this way, that way......

I REPEAT, SW Airlines...... I wanna get away....

But Henry (Dear Henry Dear Henry) think of the sights.. .the lights.. lit trees, bulbs, orni's, tinsel - keepin' your head on a swivel.......

But Liza (Dear Liza Dear Liza) you can have all that AND Rudolph, put it, you know, the 'tundra' where the the sun don't shine - not me, I prefer not to shrivel.

Yes, I'm prolly stuck here... cussing at gas bill, snotnose knocking on door to shovel.. Me, downing anxiety pill... aware it's a strong word, but, Winter, I hate.....

Wake me (Dear Liza Dear Liza) on March first, I'm off to hibernate....

So, aforementioned friends of warm places, send me your forecast, I double dog dareya to do it......

For voodoo doll is on fridge, pins right next to it.

Love, Henry Gibson

Warm, fuzzies in Forward and Bibliography by Victurd and ibed.

Funny ha ha......

Hey, someone's in the kitchen with Dinah.
Someone's in the kitchen, I know.
Someone's in the kitchen with Dinah
Strumming on the old banjo.

The Pavlov of real life makes one (or, at least is does me) want to continue with

Fee, fie, fiddle-e-i-o.. Fee, fie, fiddle-e-i-o-o-o....

Point, Victor... get to the friggin point.

TY, will.  The point is..... sometimes writing a blog is like cooking (neither of which I do well.)  You cook a meal/write a blog in hopes of entertaining, hopefully spicing up some of the need-spicing-up that comes with life...or, cereal/milk, bologna sannich, regular ole crap... dig.. .coook... help... hopefully smile, gobble.

That.  Again, ty for asking, but..... not that much!

The peepers opened - my brain went straight to laughter (yes, after I peed)... so I Google/AI'ed about laughter... frankly it was pretty boring... Crap about endorphins, dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin, neuropeptides...  zzzzzzzzzzzzzz (that was you, the blog reader, snoring.)

Patooey.  So, I'm doing what I always do, I steal crap from other people....... and, that's OK because...... I don't make a nickel from this nonsense...  I could care less if I ever get a 'like' or whatever...... my end goal is a happy you... with occasional smile.  Got it?  Get it, good!

Today's pet peeve.  We've discussed before, when someone is ready, set, go to tell a story and they preface it with "I've got a funny story to tell", ya STOP EM, say, WAIT, just a GOL DURN MINUTE, you tell it, WE'LL DECIDE IF IT'S FUNNY."

Helping me in the kitchen today (ie, I'm plagearizing the heck outta her writing) is some blogger that goes by 'Scary Mommy' and she's got some fun, interesting things in her blog.  VICTOR! WAIT, just a GOL DURN MINUTE, you tell it, WE'LL DECIDE IF IT'S INTERESTING, FUN!"

59, 58, 57, 56.......... OK, I will........

Henry VIII knighted all four of his “Grooms of the Stool” — the people in charge of wiping his butt for him.

Jeannette Rankin was elected to Congress four years before women could even vote.  (That ain't fun or funny, it's actually sad.. WHAT were we thinking way back in the day!)

Before the invention of modern false teeth, dentures were commonly made from the teeth of dead soldiers. (Eww)..

In ancient Egypt, servants were smeared with honey so flies would flock to them instead of the pharaoh.

Abraham Lincoln was a champion wrestler and a licensed bartender.

George Washington owned a whiskey distillery. (WHEN DID WE TURN LEFT AND TAKE THE FUN OUTTA THE OFFICE?)

In the 1740s, Roman Catholics formed a secret society dubbed the Order of the Pug. Members had to sport dog collars and scratch at the door!

Galloping crocodiles inhabited the Sahara Desert 100 million years ago. (It's true, I checked with Snopes)

During World War I, the French built a “fake Paris” to throw off German bombers.

In WWII British soldiers had to make do with only three sheets of toilet paper per day. Bet them suckers were never knighted... and if so, twas from afar.

Ancient Spartans were so rich that no one had to work.  (Life, I'd like a do-over perty please.)

The average person living in Sweden eats about 22 pounds of chocolate a year (Now you wanna do-over don't ya?

.

Montana has three times as many cows as it does people. (Susan!?? Utah is close to Montana, can you run by and give us a head count?)

Alaska is the westernmost and easternmost state in the United States.

There are reportedly no mosquitoes in Iceland.

Wombat poop is cube-shape

To keep from drifting apart, sea otters hold hands while they sleep. (Red Skelton on keys to a successful marriage, said of his wife "We always hold hands.  If I let go, she goes shopping.")

Seahorses mate for life and can often be seen holding each other’s tails.

The ice in Antarctica is made up of almost 3% penguin urine.  Eww.

None of The Beatles could actually read music.

However, George Harrison could reportedly play 26 instruments.

In 2016, Mozart sold more albums than Beyoncé.

Got a song stuck in your head? That’s called an “earworm.”

Barry Manilow did not, in fact, write “I Write The Songs.”

Tug of war used to be an Olympic sport.

MLB umpires are required to wear black underwear in case they split their pants. (I wonder how many panels of TP they get a day?)

You can’t hum while plugging your nose.

You are always looking at your nose; your brain just chooses to ignore it.

Looked, didn'tya?

By the time we die, we’ll have spent roughly a year sitting on the toilet.

You only breathe out of one nostril at a time.

Tried, didn't ya?

The longest hiccuping spell lasted a whopping 68 years.

Elmer Fudd’s original name was Egghead.

The actors who voiced Mickey and Minnie Mouse from the 1980s to the 2010s were married!

Now it's time to say goodbye...    Thanks for coming to the kitchen.

Don't take any wooden nickels. (Don't worry about me..  at my age, my goofy affliction, if it's less than a quarter I ain't picking it up off the floor.

DO NOT.  DO NOT walk around all day thinking about soldiers only getting three panels of TP a day.

Love, Victurd.