Exhale..........

Grease may be the word...... but me thinks exhale might be the answer to every question, true/false, multiple choice, fill in the blank. It follows colds, coughs, setting the thermostat on a cold winter's day, finally hearing it kick in.

Its' an answer like mercurochrome, "have you tried restarting your computer?", "take two aspirin and call me in the morning", "Eat your (Wheaties, vegetables)".  It follows a long day at work, pulling weeds in the garden, a tense, bite one's fingernails World Cup game, a boo boo, an almost fall, perhaps even a romp in the hay.

It's the greatest helper to 'back to normal', "we did it", "that was...(hard, fun, long, rough, scary, unbelievable, expensive, free, perfect, terrible)"...       

 It can be an assistant to road rage, your kid (or grandkid) in the batter's box, down a run, two outs, an follows whatever the result is, good or bad... an old fart looking up his bank balance at 2am on the third Wednesday of the month,  

It follows, someone who's overstayed their visit, leaving.  An hour meeting at work that shoulda taken fitteen minutes, your mechanic handing you the bill that's $112 less than what you thought it'd be.

Moms (and I guess sometimes dads too) shortly after watching the 'little' take his, her first steps... training wheels off, having a continuous coughing fit, finally catching their breath - so, you exhale, catch yours.  Moms are like that, yeah they are.

Touchdown on the runway, slowing to a crawl...  Pulling in the driveway.......

It's very rewarding to me to have friends swing by here periodically... (ex)hale, (ex) hale, the gang's all here, what the (ex)hale do we care....

I care a bunch, and I thank you......... and I always exhale after hitting 'publish'.

Love, Victurd                                                                                     

Pay it backwards.........

Life, in reverse.  My father, he of PRNDL ilk, used ta think he was funny in saying "Put it R for race." Don't get me wrong, looking back (hint, hint hint, the ilk of this blog) my father was a wonderful father.  Sure, I'm biased, but sure, I'm correct as well!

Life today way includes backwards.  Bassackwards some say, others say ass-backwards.

There's the guy who bought the brand new Ford.  You know, the one with the screen "bigger'n your PC at home."  The backup camera.  Well, the guy wrote (mighta been 'called'., I ain't sure) Ford to relate, "It's defective...every time I go to the Piggly Wiggly and backout to leave, the DVD player keeps 'playing the same movie' over and over of the guy putting his hands up, getting run over.  If was funny the first time, but this camera thing needs fixing."

Uh huh.

We've talked about Michael Jackson and his moonwalk. Kris Kross and their bassackwards clothes.. folks, back in the day, labeled 'backwards'.

We know a certain blog writer that 'lives in the past a bit much.'  Forgive me Father for I have admittedly key-stroked here. I likes me some yesterday... sure, the McCartney one, but. all the others we've got stored in our brains, photo albums, junk drawers, minds of friends, yearbooks, newspapers, microfilm, yada yada yada.

We here have grabbed our Crayons and colored Victurd weird because he enjoys reading (NOT celebrating, but reading) obits.  It's a thing with me.  I walk outta a funeral.. there are two schools of thought...   "Good guy"... "Not so good guy."  Fortunately, the good guys and gals WAY outnumber the others.

Recently, the obit of a lady A HUNNERD AND TWO.  We'll call her 'Sal'.  Sal lived a charmed life.  Her first job was in a high rise on the only floor that had air conditioning. She'd ride the street car to work... and years later would look back (is there a theme here?) marveling about how those tracks were torn out.... and then many years later, put back in virtually the same place here in KC.

She rented a room next to a furniture stripping business.... and for many years, bought 'things' (antiques') of the past, sold them as a dealer.  She became well known for her expertise, appraisal and fair prices - all, in accordance with how she was brought up (in the past).. the era... thanks to the efforts, role models before her.

'Sal' was known for her light-hearted wit, keen intelligence, as an avid reader, the kind who would do crossword puzzles in ink... had a natural tact for not letting a grammatical error go uncorrected (speech and print.)  As her eyesight and hearing waned, she never lost her sense of humor. Festive, holiday meals, she might suggest "Next time.. you might try....". When asked "How?" (to 102 years) she replied "This too shall pass" and "All things in moderation."

 The entire obit was a wonderful read, but, the 'gooder' part, to me anyways, is how the family was thankful to all who enabled this charmed, wonderful lady to remain in her house and continue life living on her means.

Without specifically calling it "Paying it backwards", the family thanked many who played a role in that.  The one who gave facials.... another who cut her hair.. .yet another who kept her yard up to Sal's standards.. .the guy who made sure, rain or shine, her newspaper made it on the front porch... another for their weekly 'wine and companionship'..  another who brought her a  good lunch and conversation.. 

The three names that enabled her to remain (and pass) in her final days in her own bed, alongside her cat Maddie.. and of course the entire Hospice crew.  

Paying it backwards is such a wonderful thing.

As we go forward in life - we gotta remember, when backing up, if we see that guy in the video holding his hands up in dispair....... hit pause (put it 'in P for Park')... look at life.. smell the roses... whilst we can.

Love, Victurd  

Purple Passion...........

Back in the day...............  'Xplain Lucy (Victurd), that could mean a year ago, ten, thirty, fitty.. how? Much?

Yeah my bad.. in this case... Fitty plus years ago, Purple Passion was not made with Jamaican Rum... rather, El Cheapo grain alcohol, some kinda cheap fruit punch, and the end result was usually dju-makin-me crazy. (Never forget, I was a sophomore three years in college.)

 Key word, PASSION.  Mind outta gutter, NOT THAT, at least not in this case.

This morning as I sat at the computer... I started singing.  Don't you do that?  I personally enjoy (VICTOR! NOBODY ASKED YOU!)..... ahem, I personally enjoy really deep, bass junk. One liners...... you know, like:

DUKE DUKE DUKE DUKE OF EARL DUKE DUKE, DUKE OF EARL DUKE DUKE DUKE OF EARL............. or.......

Ba-bom-a-bom-bom.. (Ba-bom-a-bom-bom).. (Ba-bom-a-bom-bom)
(Ba-dang-a-dang-dang).. (Ba-ding-a-dong-ding).. (Blue moon, moon, moon)..(Blue moon)...

Daddy sang bass.............

Nonea them tickle your innards?  Holy crap man, go take your pulse!

And then........... and then what Victor? And then it happened?  NO.  And then, the antonym for deep bass songs to love would be chicky songs (said very lovingly) with great (purple?) passion where it feels like the gal singin' could beat you up.

Them Pretenders that I would prolly surrender if they sang with the passion they sing...

"Gonna make you, make you, make you notice... Gonna use my arms, gonna use my legs
Gonna use my style, gonna use my sidestep.. Gonna use my fingers, gonna use my, my, my
Imagination"

Joan Jett's purple...........  "I love rock 'n roll, So put another dime in the jukebox, baby
I love rock 'n roll, So come and take your time and dance with me". Ow! SURE Joah, I'll hop right to it! 

VICTOR!  Huh?  Tell me again which wife it was that said "Victor, do you realize not everyone gets as excited about your ideas as you?"       I can't remember, probably both of them....... which....... brings us to the express purpose, intent of this blog.

NOT EVERYONE SHARES THE SAME PASSIONS...    Example Victor?

SOCCER.

I will say, having the World Cup on our American soil... and at least some of the games, specifically here in Kansas City......  The Passion of the fans is literally second to no other sport.  It's a Country thing.  Comes with all the glitter (bright colored uni's, tops, shirts, shorts, shoes) jewelry, hats, glasses, makup, women AND men.. the dancing. DANCING TOGETHER AS A COUNTRY.  Songs, cheers, moves, smiles, laughs.  The best.  I'm sorry Cheeseheads, Dallas Cowboy folks across the land.. even Mahomey on the range here in Kansas City......  we don't hold a candle to the passion of soccer fans.

I like, love that.

The game, to me, different story..... Offsides? I never even saw 'em snap the ball.  What's extra time?  Do they like put a runner on second base? Did they learn them flops from the NBA? Yellow card, red card, are they like playing Go Fish?  And PLEASE, don't get HIM involved FIFA.

Some say "There ain't no way I enjoy watching 90 plus minutes and nobody scores...."  And, I get that.  Then I watched the penalty kick playoff ending thingy. That was pretty cool.

Bottomline............ passion is a very good thing... and we have different paths to attain it.

You say GOODBYE (and, that you're going to play chess, read a paperback, make (and eat) at pasta salad, do as many planks as you can in thirty minutes.).........

And I say HELL NO...... i don't know why you say GOODBYE and do all that dumb stuff (just my opine, sorry)... and I say HELL NO.... I'd much rather go sit on the Town Square, people watch.. forward silly (but fun to me) Facebook jokes, reels, and then, top it off with two beers at the Landing.

Purple Passion........... red white and blue... or, whatever Ghana's, Curacuao's, Côte d'Ivoire's (who?), Uzbekistan's.. colors are. 

Jimmy Dean........... JAMES DEAN..........   rock on. 

 

 

 

Thoughts..........

There just ain't enough time in life to do everything ya wanna do.

 

There usually ain't enough money to do whatever ya wanna do in life.

 

There are absolutely perfect times in a relationship, be it a lover, a relative, inlaw, friend, coworker, acquaintance. the order-taker at Mickey D's, the guy (or gal) in line infronta ya for whatever you're waiting on, your mechanic, HVAC dude (or dudette), beautician, barber, pedicure performer, preacher, teacher, student, your team, Rover, FiFi, Jerry the gerbil, Mr. Ed, the temperature, the wind, the sun, the sky, the rain, the drain. The mailman, Jehovah's, wanna be councilperson door knocker, the door knocker, handle, sink, showerhead, mattress, cable rep, unknown caller.  Yada.

 

Yada, is all the crap you can't think of offa the toppa your head.

 

Lovers can argue, relatives have hurt, friend(s) might not invite you, the acquantance may ask your name (again), when you debag the cheeseburger in your car you can cuss "I HATE onions", you can tap your toe in line, faster and faster as patience wanes, pull $'s from 401K to pay for mechanic, AC. You may fall asleep mid sermon, teacher lesson. Dog, cats, gerbils, sometimes poop where they ain't sposedta.  Sometimes you don't see it until too late.

 

Rarely, but happens, forecasters get it right, you get soaked going to car to get the carton of smokes you left there.  It's all junk mail, "Sorry, no time today Jehovah's, wanna be elected person, "I gotta fix the door handle, sink, showerhead, that damn spring in the mattress... call cable, scream REPRESENTATIVE!.

 

That stuff.

 

Inbetween all that crap.  Life really ain't bad.

 

You look wonderful tonight. Reunion? First week in October? Cool, I'll reserve the shelter.. Ha! Found a twenty in my jeans, I'd love to go see MU at the Sprint Center or whateverinthehell they call it now, thanks for asking, friend.  It was just a fuse? My AC just needed a good cleaning?  Enjoyed that preach, teach.  All animals, meet at the back door, we're having a party out back.   Did you know regular ole vinegar cleans a showerhead?  I didn['t neither until I Google DIY'ed it. Cable lady was really, really nice.    

 

Life is never perfect, but it's full, hella full, of perfect moments.

 

I'm gonna try, to fit a ton of fun into the day. Hope you do too.

 

(Side note.  Speaking of 'fitting a ton'..  time to rearrange dresser again, today.  Three drawers of shorts.  Top drawer has ones that I can still button at the top. Next one down has ones I can still wear but ain't no way in hell to button de button.  Bottom drawer is my "be for real Victor" drawer. I know I never will, but hey, I keep em.  Well, this morning, shorts from top drawer wouldn't button.  Damnit.  Movin' em down. Drawer two is now drawer three...  Drawer three's contents to be taken to Thrift Store today, and, you guessed it.. will purchase several pair a size fatter to refill top drawer.

 

Perfect, or something like that.    

 

Love, Victurd