You got some change coming.......

That's an open ended one huh?  Could be ripe for a Bob Dylan song.  Before you jump allover me for that.. I might tell you.... my ex, LOVED LOVED LOVED, Bob Dylan, as in, I've seen him fitty three times I think, he always had some answer in the wind I could never unnerstand. Victor, back to point, title.

Right you are.

Life is about change eh?  Our first big step is just that, a big step.  Our horizontal world becomes an upright, vertical world, we're introduced to falling, bumps, bruises, getting back up - but damn daddy, this walkin' stuff is the bomb..   like, the training wheels are off... I got my driver's license!...Gradjugation... they're gonna lemme work from home! Sixty five, I AM OUTTA HERE. Honey?  Can you help me load the geezer scooter in the trunk? Victor?  Uh huh?  Ya better slow down, you gotta whole blog to write.

Right you are. Change.  Happens.  Weather.  Light. Dark.  Breakfast kinda stuff, lunch, dinner. (and before all that, momma's boobies and strained carrots.)  We won't discuss change and momma's boobies in the same sentence again, promise.

SCHOOL.  We go. Our eyes are opened. Sesame Street helps us ask "Who are the people in the neighborhood" (and school), whereas, you might change the channel you're watching South Park, and it's "Who the hell are all these people?"

AI, or whoever does Google crap is amazing.  You gotta cipher answers when they give 'em to ya... like.. "When do our brains get ripe?"   

"It is well established that the brain undergoes a “rewiring” process that is not complete until approximately 25 years of age. This discovery has enhanced our basic understanding regarding adolescent brain maturation and it has provided support for behaviors experienced in late adolescence and early adulthood"

So that's it. Blog. School is over. Bye. Ahm, Victor?  Uh huh?  You mentioned something about 'change coming'.  As much as sometimes I prefer you do leave, you can't leave us like that.  Oh.  OK.

On the way to that age 25, much transpires.  Some centers around sand.  Into the sandbox.  MINE. Jimmy, share please.  Out of the sandbox.  A few years later, to the beach. Wow, would you look at her!  Johnny, MINE, touch her and I'll have ta killya.  Gradjugation happens. The tassel goes East West, or is it West East?

We get a job.  A W-2.  WHY do they take so mucha my money! All I've got left is change!  Just wait.  Kids pop in.  We then teach the sandbox.  Say, would you buy some'a these damn trash bags? I can't afford to pay for all the stuff Louie's Little League team does. Road Trips, Tourney fees, $300 Bomb bats, new shoes.  NEW SHOES? I just boughtya new shoes last year!

We work our way up the ladder, or not.  Sometimes, should we stay at bottom, we getta urge to bump them suckers up at the top offa the ladder.  Some, climb that ladder, take pride in working for a common goal.  Others, simply wanna look down on others.  Yet a few more, wanna hurry-up-and-be sixty five so "I can get the hell offa the ladder."  Vacations don't help much.  Sand in our crack, allover the hotel carpet, and into the rental car.

Then we get real old. They give us cake and punch.  Gag gifts of Depends.  The joke is on them as... we leave the parking lot and look out the rear view mirror.  Oh crap, here he goes, looking into the past again.

Yer damn right!  Now, the past is all I got!  Ya see these scars on the inside'a my elbow? Got them when I was 9, stiff arming the front screen door to go out, except, it was actually made of glass.  This one, a scar on my cheek.  One'a 'who are the people in the neighborhood' (no names, Jimmy Crouch) threw a dog bone at me, I got 7 stitches!

Then, my wifey had a C-section, God Bless her, truly. And then, WHAT?  I have to PAY? To get CUT ON?  DOWN THERE? Victor, be a good boy.  Sit. Stay.  Come.  Remember how happy Gabe was when he jumped in the car to go to the vet?  NOT FUNNY.  OUCH, I'll never recover.

I recovered. And then the guys at AI, or Google, or Encyclopedia Britannica, whoever, speak easy to unnerstand English and tell us...... 

As a person gets older, changes occur in all parts of the body, including the brain. Certain parts of the brain shrink, including those important to learning and other complex mental activities. In certain brain regions, communication between neurons may be less effective.

To the outhouse, by Willie Makeit.  I've decided I'm just going to give envelopes with money in em this year.  WHY DON'T THEY PAINT THESE GD (Gosh darn) WHITE LINES ANY BRIGHTER?  Sure, come get your wiffle ball, but I got new grass seed over there, stay outta there.

WHY are these basta's honking at me?  I'm going fitty five in the right lane, speed limit's 60?  Say sweetie, after you gitme them scratch off tickets, can I showya pics of my grandson's first birthday? They did the cake smash, it was The Bomb.

Grandpa? What year were you born?..................... And, you're still alive?   It sure does get early dark.  I'll record the ten o'clock news and watch it in the morning.  YES, I'm wearing this to WalMart, ain'tya seen all them videos of what some wear?  Compared, I could be a church-goer.

I miss Ernie.  He was the best.  Yep, we were on the same Little League team.

Wait, what?  Our brains shrink?  You listen here Whippersnapper.  I'm STILL, all about fun. B.I.N.G.O.... Old maids at the Senior Center. VICTOR! I'm talkin' the card game, calm down, ain't no miser'genist.

There's cruises to be taken, Baskin Robbins with the grands, Chief's games in Kansas (VICTOR, that doesn't excite me.  Don't tell. Me neither.  And hell, parking will prolly cost more than a family pack of ground beef.  Uh huh).

Old age is about wearin' stripes and plaids, same time, barn door down.  Not being embarrassed about passing gas, hell i can't hear it anyways.  Class reunions can be fun, sad at the same time. So, so many gone.  "Excuse me ma'am, my eyes ain't what they usedta be... what's it say on your name tag?" Victor, we dated our sophomore year.  Oh hell, I'm sorry.  Me too, but my brain ripened, just kidding.

Just a song before I go.

Life's a ball of wax... with sand in it.  Shrinkage huh?

I

WILL

HAVE

YOU

KNOW.

I ain't slippin'.  JUST THIS MORNING, very early morning... my phone, you see, I have a Sudoku app on it.  I'm kinda addicted.  They have a 'championship' thingy every week.  Whoever scores the most points (the addicts, that, that's all they do is play that crap) is announced as, "The Gold Prize Winner"  The glare from playing at 10am, 3pm, 6pm, 9pm that's when I fall asleep), midnight (wake to pee, play a game or two), 2am (I knew the contest was ending.).. that glare, 4AM getting to me. But, presto, color me, THE Grand Prize Winner.

I'll be signing autographs later today at the Dollar Tree.  (A dollar and a quarter is all I can afford to pay you if you come... after my brain shrinks s'more.. I reach the "What white lines" age, my scivvies are made outta plastic, I won't be able to afford two beers at the Landing, I can't play golf, well, just because I can't... I'll host autograph signings at the "Five Below' store, thataway, I can pay you a tad more and make it worth your while.

I think we'd better commit him.

Do they have a sandbox?  Beach?  The women wear 'keenies?" I NEVER SAID ANYTHING ABOUT SAGGY BOOBIES.

Love, Victurd