Pardon me boys, is that the cat who chewed your new shoes?
Wait, that ain't it.
Pardon me boys, is that the Chattanooga Choo Choo?
Mebbe.....
Rod says, every picture tells a story. And Rod, I'll one-up ya even better, every person tells a story..... and that, I reckon, is the point today of this flimsy old blog.
I gotta buddy who wrote, and I don't think he'll sue me for copy/pasting:
"Every morning, while I am drinking my coffee, I go through my gratitude, what I’m grateful for that day. Today I did my usuals, my house, my utilities, my refrigerator, full of food, my pantry, my running water and even toilet paper. But today I was extremely grateful that all those loud booms last night was just thunder. Praying for all the people that are in dangerous war situations."
You see, he don't. Once did, but, over the years his eyesight declined to the point he can't any longer, but, by golly that sucker can paint, and ain't that a pretty picture he wrote? Ya damn right it is.
Kinda sorta along that note....... I heard or read of an English teacher, in trying to teach writing.. ... trying to get whatever age folks she was teaching to 'xplain Lucy' as they wrote - had 'em blindfold a classmate, walk 'em around and describe everything. Brilliant, to me anyways.
Some say, "I can't write." I call BS. in your own way, you can and do. Had a buddy, swore he didn't know how to, could never, retell a joke he'd heard, so, whenever someone started to tell one.. he'd pipe up... "WAIT".. go grab pen, paper, and write it down so he could retell.
To me, THAT is a story in and of itself!
We. be. different. And, that's the way, uh huh uh huh, I like it.. some would say, we're stuck with it. Some (ok, many) geezers, retell and retell and retell, the same story. A gal that I smooched for a few years... they were all SO thankful when I came along (NO, not because they liked me, be for real!) because I was the new listener to all her dad's stories. (Again, and again)
I loved it then, and I love it now - as sadly, he ain't around no more. And, while sure, not fun he's gone, ALL THOSE STORIES still are in my brain, I so love that they are - and it brings heap big smile to my face every time I think of him, or, one of his stories.
Smiles accompany storytellers of each, every variety. And, if you ain't aware how big smiles are to me... then, take a year off work (or play) and reread the 12,000+ flimsy blogs I wrote before this'n.
In every day life... having recurring times with ones we hang with, work with, go to church, the bar, book club, Bunko, golf, whatever.... we have our favorites we love listening to - at least I do, dunno about you, but, I'd guess so.
I look forward to whadever in the heck I'm going to listen to today.. Sure, some ain't real fun to listen to.. .VICTOR! Well, it's true, it's reawwy reawwy twue.. some speak of themselves (always).. but, we know that ahead, so mebbe it don't bug us quite so much. (You mean like certain bloggers Victor? BITE ME).
Some, speak about others, and sometimes, it ain't really pretty what they say. But again... we know that in advance, and holy guacamole, it makes ya sit back and think "Hey, what if I ain't here? Would they talk about me?" The likely answer is yes.... but too, it lends a little more of an understanding of their "I see your red door and I want it painted black" picture, because, maybe, they don't like what they see in their own mirror... and, that, is really sad - and, maybe makes you love 'em, or at least feel for 'em a little more.
Victor, where you going with this? Every nook and cranny in the World, how's that? If might be fun to go sit for awhile in a foreign country, not know whatinthehell any one is saying, but.. mebbe take a guess as to who's the best story teller... which is the geezer repeating a story over and over (Could be the Cliffs note version to Babble in learning, say, Espanol' eh?). Who always speaks about themself. Who, always speaks (sometimes badly) about Pepe' or Maria. Which awakens every day and counts their blessings?
Life, I find anyways, is a damn fun, interesting, convoluting, wunnerful, colorful, blessed place.
Life, in black and white, wouldn't be quite as fun. And, before you run off suggesting racism, that ain't what I'm talkin'. We need hues, blues, and even pink hairdos.
If life were only paper, scissors, rock, how boring that would be, and besides, Patrick would NEVER be able to play that with SpongeBob.
I like leftfield, 'what did he just say', Ripley's Believe it Or Not, Paul Harvey, Yogi Berra, Jimmy Kimmel (just shoot me) and, I'd never forget you Guillermo.
VICTOR, you misogynist, there ain't a single lady on your list. Geez (Louise, BaBa WaWa, Rosanne Rosanna Danna, Betty White, Samantha Stephens, Wilma and Betty, right Pebbles?
I've told this one before............. NO? NOT YOU VICTOR! Bite me. One time, band camp. That lady up there I smooched with for three years or so (remember, the one whose Pa told and retold the same (fun) stories (as he smiled?) Anyways, I follered her into the Piggly Wiggly one day........ we's outta coffee. (TBC)
They had this nifty end of aisle display, musta been thirty coffee bean varieties.. you grab your bag, fill up with the one of choice. Not her. She took her bag, grabbed a little of this, a little of that, actually, some of each, all.
That. That's the way uh huh uh huh I like life, and coffee come to think of it.
Love, Victurd
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