Choices.........

 Me, me, me.  Sorry.  How are you?

Yesterday, two in our golf foursome were unable to play. Should we go ahead and play?  Sure, choice #1. 

Did. Fun. Cruddy front nine, back, just a tad better, medium crappy. A beer and convo on the deck after, the choice was Miller Lite.  It tastes great, and friend John thought it too was less filling.

Age, inactivity, a whole lot of sun, a beer, and, hey, I'll grump, it's legal at my age - affliction, all combined, tired me out.

I was in bed - the choice of my upper eyelids (they kept trying to greet, say hello to the bottom eyelids.) very early. I had no choice to hop in bed way before the NY Yankees were comfortably ahead of our beleaguered Kansas City Royals. 

If I were a Sport's Writer for the Kansas City SNL News, I'd login as Victor WonderfulWhiner to say, "the hell do you expect?  Yankee payroll $336 Million, Royals, $146 Million."  Readers of said SNL rag would write in and say "We gots choices... can the manager, buy us a real good outfielder, move so-and-so up/down/out of the lineup... new hitting, pitching coach, it's the GM's fault, move 'em to downtown Nashville."  Eh, you know, fanatics.

I had choices when I awakened. I gots to be at work at 5:30am.  Retirement, ha.  Coffee, mandatory.  Newspaper, eh, come what may.  Read (and weap) over Royals, skip all the way too many KU articles... more on the paper in a sec...

I've got a really cool pump that massages my legs.  Victor?  Who cares?  My legs do! Whilst I DID awaken shortly after 3am, all them choices above... leave no room for the pump now - I look forward to it once I get home - as, I'm choosing to blog now.

Why?

Once again, I read the obits.  Chose to.  The first one I opened (only two today thank goodness).. I bawled.  Beautiful, not quite middle age lady.. wife, mom to three littles...melanoma - way too soon.  The obit writer captured the persona of her life... a giver.. loyal.. fun.. Social Worker who put that on the back burner to raise three littles.  Too. Damn. Young.  Once again, guilt sets in.  It's so hard to 'look 'em in the eye' because, one shouldn't have to read an obit of one younger, in this case, a lot younger... it just ain't right.

It jolts life in perspective.

Who gives a rats about sore muscles from golf. Golf scores. How much off my debit card went to fill my car to drive to the course.  Who cares about Major League payrolls... what pitch to throw, when, in the count.  Baseball is a carousel of swapping players, coaches, front office folks.......... real life it taking in the wonder of the carousel and seeing the plug pulled out and it comes to a forever, ne'er to circulate again, stop.

Looking in the mirror - I remind me I'm damn lucky to be writing, walking, talking, living.  We don't really call the shots (choose) when that's not going to be the case ----------------------------------

so..........once again, life still lends us the choice of how to face it.  Kindness. With smile.  Arm around.  Hugging.  Complimenting.  Appreciating what I got, not, what i ain't got.

I am very glad you are able to read this today for it means you as well still have choices.   It sucks that dark reminders relate how short life is here. The 'ya never knows' of it all.

Tears are ok, for, they are to be wiped away.. face cleansed.. .with smile, just as those that have passed before us would love for us to do.  Carry on, give smiles for, on behalf of, them.  They can't - we certainly can and assuredly might as well.

 Love, Victurd