Three putts and double bogeys......

It don't haveta be about golf..  it could be babes and bunko... lefty loosie, righty tighty, a '62 Nova and the 3 car garage..  the book club huddle in the back room'a the library..

Your own time... shared time..  twisting Bab's words, 'People who chose people are the luckiest people in the world.

 

TGIF, thank goodness it's friends.  Adventure, excitement, relaxation.. I mean come on, you're sitting in an E-Z-GO golf cart, how fun is that?

I dunno whatintheheck bunko is, but this much I remember..  gal I was dating went, weekly, came home, usually weakly. So, after a few years of that, they finally changed the name to LDC (lady's drinking club) as they never played bunko in the first place, or, mebbe the generation before them did, dunno.

I am not mechanically inclined. At all.

I'm not a book club kinda person.  I love to read a newspaper, flip thru the yuck, devour the good stuff, but nope, ain't no Dewey Decimal Paperback Writer/Reader/Reviewer.

I do enjoy golf.  Well, I enjoy anything, everything, in and around golf, sometimes the golf itself sucks. Ya get four people, ya learn all about 'em, even when you've known them since they was knee high to a Schnauzer.

We bet a dollar.  Please don't tell Homeland Security, the FBI, CIA, Clay County Sheriffs, or the Holt Volunteer Deputies.  Sometimes, when you lose a dolla' to onea your best friends, again and again and again, next time, you pay him with 4 quarters. Or mebbe two rolls of pennies. Or perhaps a dollar that's been scotchtaped (poorly) back together.

You hear fun stuff like, (on a 95 degree day) "I'm glad you parked the cart where at least you're in the shade, I'll be OK though, don't worry about me."  "You know, they do make these cart paths wide enough that all four wheels will fit on them."

"I had a 3 and you wrote down a 4?  You gave yourself a 3 and you had a 4. You did that two weeks ago too. Can you even add?"  It was just at this point, the patience of the score writer downer had waned. The "can't you even add" challenger, for 76 consecutive weeks, was late to the golf course, usually 20 minutes or so after tee time, so, the score writer downer replied, "Yes, I CAN add... you, however, can't even tell time."  Ahhhhh relaxation, what better!

We usually play 'this cart against that cart', ie, two man teams.  "DID YOU SEE THAT?  DID YOU SEE THAT? He picked up! That putt wasn't no gimme (a term for conceding a putt to someone if the distance to the hole is 'inside-the'leather', ie, not to exceed the distance from the bottom of the grip, to the putter clubhead.  "THAT PUTT WASN'T NO GIMME!"  Remember, E-Z-GO, one dolla' bet. Ahhh chillaxin.

"He on fire!" said complimentary to your opponent when he's kicking your butt.  It is hoped, said compliment will mess with their mind, as in, "You jinxed me!" and, you par a hole, birdie a hole, get back in the game.

"I think your ball carried into the 'She-shed'."  The She-shed is strategically placed halfway thru the golf course, behind the 10th green, about as far as you can be to the clubhouse <--the only place with a restroom has actual plumbing. Certainly no plumbing in She-shed, it's an old pumphouse. It's rumored, the She-shed is the lady's Pee-shed though.  Can't be sure. "Oh, wait, yes, there's my Titleist, P-U, whew, I think they really do."

Speakinowhich, we men have trees. Well, 'cepting the first 5 holes, they're lined with houses, so, no can pee on any of those.  Ever eat a pine tree? No, that ain't it.  We pee. By trees.  Please don't tell, especially Homeland Security, the FBI, CIA, Clay County Sheriffs, or the Holt Volunteer Deputies. Serious though, true story, you can be put on the sexual offender list if you pee by a tree on the golf course, I turd you knot, I mean not. 

"Hey ____ (enter name of late guy here, he abhors social media) can you stop at the clubhouse before we start, I can't pee on the course until the 6th hole."  'You idiot, you pee on #2 every time we play."  Well, yeah, I guess I do. There is one spot, if you sneak in the woods 3', you will not be observed by Gladys Kravitz.

"Say, (right before guy hits) Do you ever see ole' ________" (enter golfing opponent's old HS GF name here, it'll mess up his game.

We talk about grandkids, great kids, sometimes not-so-good kids, "the old lady", which, is fancy for "yes honey" when together. Knees, hips, plantar fasciitis, bursitis, arthritis, shoulders, where to buy the best electric body massager, Medicare, I don't care, electric cars, Repubs, Dems, sports that ain't golf, did you hear about so-and-so, remember when we.........,"no, she lived two doors down from the Smiths", "What's a Yuengling?" We NEVER talk about women playing on an adjacent hole, or their body parts, I swear we NEVER talk about them on any day that doesn't end in Y.   Oink.

We talk lovingly, truly, about friends no longer on Earth. We keep 'em alive, so to speak. We relax, we tease, we hurt, we feel good, we need this. We have a beer, maybe two, and sit on the back deck to enjoy nature, getting away from the fast pace of retirement, camaraderie works, very, very nicely.

We realize, golf, like life, ain't forever, thus, we play as often as we can. (Except for the sissies that hate the hot, cold, rain, wet, wind, stuff like that.) Our friendships go beyond our foursome at the course. Other golfers, the clubhouse workers, the maintenance guys, have all, become our friends, our 'go to' when relaxation is needed, wanted, obtained.

Add it all up, it's a good thing.  YOU CAN'T ADD!  And YOU CAN'T TELL TIME!  Speakinowhich, it's time to go, be 'fore' I bore ya or maybe tee ya off.  Golf is a win win, even when you don't. Easy to go to. E-Z-GO.

It's our  Wendy Wino, Carl Craftsman, Bookworm Betty.

And yes, I've a big keyboard, as in, TMI, Victor you talk too much.  That said, there is MUCH I can't, don't, won't share, so, put your imagination hats on here. Some of it's pretty good and even really fun, funny!

Putt putt, to the Pizza Hut,

Love, Victurd

One, two, three, four, five... Everybody in the car, so come on, let's ride

One, two, one, two, three..  huh?  Yes, insomnia scene this morning. I went to Time.gov website this morning at (the first) 1:59am. videoed the clock as it struck 1:59.59, then, it wenta 1:00.00. But, just prior to it doing so, a fly landed on my damn screen so... I'd posted it, then thought, nah.. and trashed it.  Shoo fly, don't bother me. Mambo number one, two, one, two, three... a little bit of housefly... .eh, nvmd.

One, two, buckle my shoe, three, four, knock on the door...

Mom, or dad, with Pavlov trained children who know, once the counting starts, they'd better git their booty in gear and 'do what they say'........"ONE... TWO..."  Yain't never seen kids move so fast since 3:47am Christmas morning.

Children in a straight line.  Coach counting off "1, 2... 1, 2.. 1,2...1,2..." so, after you're labeled a one or a two, jualah, the teams are formed, "One's are up first, two's in the field."  Prior to coach counting, ya finagle your place in the line so you can be on the same team with the person who kicks the kickball the farthest, or, mebbe Jenny, who you've had a three year crush on starting in kiddygarten when you were five.

You "count your chickies", life runs on as good.. then, flat tire, two-hunnerd dolla', or, defensive back comes outta nowhere, pick 6, so, you imitate Buford T. Justice "You sumbitch!"

One, two...  you count sheep. (It don't work)

First, Second, Third... or.. . on the 3rd.  Huh?  Yeah, you old farts, we're talking Social Security. I was not aware, until friggin' insomnia set in today, the 'why/when' of the date we get Social Security checks. "Birthday 1st thru 10th, you get check on second Wednesday... Birthday 11th thru the 20th, you get check on third Wednesday.. .Birthday 21st thru the 31th, you get check on the fourth Wednesday."  Victor, what's that crap about "or, on the 3rd."  Yep, if you started receiving SS prior to 1997, then you always get your check on the 3rd day of the month.  Or, I guess if you're enrolled in a Medicare Savings Plan, you get it that day as well.

1, 2, 3 and 4 (that's the number of old fart Googlers now Googling "Medicare Savings Plan" because "I'd like to get my check on the same date every month."  Me too.

One, two... Buddy o' mine and his wifey gleefully went to the Doc for the sonogram (or mebbe daughterogram, they weren't sure.)  Doc said "Now here's the arms... down here the legs... and over here is the other one."  Yep, twins.  Mambo jombo.  "A little bit of Monica in my (our) life, a little bit of Erica by my (our/her) side." Or, Timmy, Tony... or Johnny, Jenny..  or, I guess if you didn't wanna know, you could do two pinatas on your reveal.

One, two, three and four.. . Let's see, car keys  check, billfold, check, cell phone, check, teeth, check, good to go to breakfast Victor!

1st, 2nd, 3rd. Right now, it's Ohio State, Georgia, Michigan. 1st, 2nd, 3rd. Gold, Silver, Bronze in the Olympics.  Except...except when, back in the day, whenever the Ruskies would compete head to head with the US, if, they 'lost', headlines were "RUSSIA 2nd!  USA next to last!"

One, two...  Wordle attempts.  To show for it, you have 9 grey squares and a a yellow E. Damnit darnit, they're gonna beat me again.

One, two... we have one mouth and two ears so we can listen twice as much as we speak. THANK GOODNESS for 26 keyboard keys, sorry, kinda sorta, not really.

One, two...  speakinokeyboards.. my mama, who typed hella fast, usedta do the typing drill "Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of our Country." It was a typing drill from 1918. By 1970, when I was a Senior in HS, that one line drill took me about three minutes.. uh huh, basta's put masking tape on all the letters cause I kept peekin.'

One, two.. "If you love two people at the same time, choose the second, because if you really loved the first one you wouldn't have fallen for the second one."  Johnny Depp... Go go, go Johnny go.. go go, go Johnny go.. NO. Wait a sec Johnny. Faulty logic.  Whyinthehell should #2 stay in a relationship with someone that loved both #1 and #2?  If this person (the one that loves one/two) should dump numero uno, whatinthehell is to stop him (or her) from also loving #3 then? I call Daylight Savings BS.. (you know, 1, 2, then Fall Back to 1.) 

One, two. "You come to the fork in the road, take it."  Well said Yogi.

One, two. (Astro bat to trashcan, one'th by fastball, two'eth by curve.) 

One, two. (Me counting normal amount of dollar bills in my billfold.)

One, two. (Me, counting my buddy's golf strokes after he swung and missed the first time.)

One, two, one.  (Daylight savings time, oh, and me, counting my strokes, not counting the swing and miss 'cause hopefully they'll think it was a practice swing.)

One, two, three, four, five (The beginning of Mambo #5 and also the # of times I've had to go pee writing this.)

One, two. (Thanks to both of you that swung by to read my blog today.)

123123.  The hell Victor?  Well, that happens to be the date (12/31/23) I get the help outta Dodge and I arrive in Sunny Mehico. What better?  New Year's Eve.  Chiefs play the Bengals that day.. and, I'll be in Mehico for ONE full month. (Koolaid koolaid no puede esperar, que tenía un sabor muy bueno, eh, you know)

One, thanks again.

Two...hmm.. I know I wrote it down somewhere..  oh, here it is, under my teeth. "Be well"

I wonder if Jenny is married, I've thought about her once or twice since 3rd grade.

Love, Victurd

When push comes to shove.......

The man gets up and goes to the door, where a drunken stranger, standing in the pouring rain, is asking for a push. "Not a chance!" says the husband. "It's three o'clock in the morning!" He slams the door and returns to bed. (Eh, we'll finish this in a bit)

Moving.  Sometimes I wakeup, stand to get up, head to the john... "Oh damn, same set of legs as yesterday."  As we age, at least for this person, it gets a bit harder and harder to move.

It is said, "If you don't move, you die." No, this is not where I go join the gym (I'm already a member, drive past it most days).. get ridda my fat, start jogging, work my way up from a single lap.. to a mile.. to a 5K (What the hell is a kilometer? 5K is 3.1 miles you simpleton Victor).. to a half marathon, to timing my miles, to run in the Piggly Wiggly Marathon, then Boston.  Huh uh.  Bless those of you that do, my main goal in life seems to be seeing how dadgum close I can get the golf cart to the golf ball so I ain't gotta walk.  

To refresh (use Dial soap), no that ain't it.  Guy went to door, 3am, some drunk, raining, asking for a push, NO, slammed door, headed back to bed:       

"Who was that?" asked his wife. "Just some drunk guy asking for a push." he answers. "Did you help him?" she asks.    "No, I did not! It's three in the morning and it's pouring out!" (Eh, we'll finish this in a bit)

Moving. As life whizzes by (<-- is that how you spell 'whiz'?  I Googled 'gee whiz', confirmed, tis.)  As life whizzes by... (brb, gotta take a wiz, happens, a lot as I age, I'm finding anyways.)  I am simply amazed by the number of old farts that are moving, as in Moving Van, different City, State, town, yada. Usedta be 'cross town, 3 story to 2 story to ranch to Golden Acres to yard of bones.  Nuh uh. Old people are moving. I used 'old people' so as not to make people mad.  One told me "Quit calling us old!" I, personally, think it's blessed to be old.  So, I first wrote 'old fart', happy medium, switched to 'old people.'

Rewinding Facebook, buddy moved MO to TX soon after retirement.  Cool. Today, read longtime Cali buddy moving to AZ.  Guy I work with, moving 'back home',  MO to OH. Nudder lady I worked with moved, I think, like 25 miles North.  It's like another Continent, don't see her any more.  I ask a lot (too many) of questions of (older) folks at the golf course where I work. "How'd you get to Missouri?" (after learning they grew up in PA, MI, NY, KY, etc.)  Most, "Following our kids." Some for work, ended up growing roots here.  I've always been proud of 'here', especially when talking to those who've moved here, found they love it, stayed.

To refresh (don't use Dollar Tree Dial soap, get Dove or Aveeno, sumpin like that), no that ain't it.  Guy went to door, 3am, some drunk, raining, asking for a push, NO, slammed door, headed back to bed: Wifey asked who was at door.. "a drunk, needed a push, it's 3am, pouring rain' said no, slammed door." and he plopped in bed.. THEN:      

"Well, you have a short memory." says his wife. "Can't you remember about three months ago when we broke down and those two guys helped us? I think you should help him and you should be ashamed of yourself!" (Eh, we'll finish this in a bit)

Back to 'moving'..  I'm too old, don't wanna, eva'. Gotta buddy close in age (and his wifey) they live 6 months KC, 6 months in sunny Mehico, then do it again, and again and again. I get tired going to the fridge for a beer, I cannot fathom doing anything like that. Anudder buddy, he, wifey, get outta Dodge 5 months a year somewhere Sunny. F-250 (bigass truck) 5th wheel.  Not "no's", "Hell to the no's".  High winds, THE PRICE OF GAS, getting gas, having to pee all too often, nomme.  People my age are moving. I'm astounded, proud of them, and I admire them... from my recliner.

To refresh (shower, but don't do shampoo two days in a row, don't needta), no that ain't it.  Guy went to door, 3am, some drunk, raining, asking for a push, NO, slammed door, headed back to bed: Wifey asked who was at door.. "a drunk, needed a push, it's 3am, pouring rain' said no, slammed door." and he plopped in bed.. Wifey got upset, reminded him of when he was in need, "go help him and you should be ashamed of yourself."   (We'll get back to this in a sec, fancy for, I ain't ready for blog to end yet.)

Then, I watch in amazement as friends move 'temporarily', ie, trips to the Dakotas, Destin, the Grand Canyon, the Dominican, across the pond to Ireland, England, Pompei, Venice, Croatia.... even had two buddies jetset to Germany a week ago.. one week+ traveling that Country, then, wakeup early Sunday to see 'em in Frankfort cheering on our Kansas City Chiefs! (Catch the damn ball, wouldya Skyy?  Rashee?  Mecole?  See all these old people moving? All you gotta do is: Catch. The. Damn. Ball.)

To refresh (go buy an RV, or maybe surf Expedia, Travelocity, stay in a VRBO, or mebbe move to South Carolina, I dunno), no that ain't it.  3am, drunk knocking, raining, wanted push, "NO", slammed door, back to bed: Wifey asked who was at door.. "a drunk, needed a push, it's 3am, pouring rain' said no, slammed door." and he plopped in bed.. Wifey got upset, reminded him of when he was in need, "go help him and you should be ashamed of yourself."   Sooooooo.....

The man does as he is told, gets dressed, and goes out into the pounding rain.  He calls out into the dark to the drunk, "Hello, are you still there?"  "Yes" comes back the answer.  "Do you still need a push? calls out the husband. "Yes please!" comes the reply from the dark.  "Where are you?" asks the husband.  "Over here, on the swing."

Moving, eh? I so admire those of you that get up and go.  I do some, not enough.  Life is fun, and it's wonderfully stretched across the land as we watch old neighbors, classmates, coworkers, family, travel here, move there, snowbird down there, yada.

Then again, I remember this morning:  Sometimes I wakeup, stand to get up, head to the john... "Oh damn, same set of legs as yesterday."  So.........

I'll be out on the porch swing.  Can you gimme a push?  Hiccup.

Love, Victurd

Just drop of the key, Lee..........

Victor why don't you do a blog on sayings with proper names in them?  Eh, I dunno, that'd probably be pretty boring....know what I mean Vern?

Poor Jack.  His name is utilized a lot.  He don't know Jack. "Steve claims to have a lot of coding experience, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't know jack about Java."

Jack of all trades can be taken as good or bad.  He knows a little about a lot, but, if you're wiring your house or replacing the tranny in your Studebaker, you might wanna call an expert.

The Shining.  That's where we got "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." Jack Torrence, played by some guy named Jack (Nicholson) typed it time and again on paper.

Keeping up with the Joneses <-- that looks funny but I spose it's right...  This comes from a comic strip by the same name way back in 1913.  The social climbing McGinis family struggled to keep up with their neighbors, the Joneses.  The Joneses neva eva' appeared in the comic strip.  Of course, nowadays, it's the Kardashians. I ain't never watched and, frankly my dear, I don't give a damn."  Frankly, I learned that onWiki.

OK, those were Rhet's last words to poor Scarlet as she struggled with "Where shall I go?  What shall i do?"  The Gone With The Wind Novel just had "My dear, 

Hello darkness my old............ friend?

Bugs me...  Monday, my fellow 'mericans, driving home from work (cept for them there in Arizona and Hawaii) will have trouble seeing white lines. Uh huh, dark-thirty.

As a Senior Citizen (STAY OFFA MY LAWN) I must say, I have e'nuff trouble knowing if it's Tuesday or Friday, thenya spring that dark crap on me?  

Victor, were you aware the Chief's game Sunday is at 8:30?  Hey, that's cool.. A game under the lights, I love night games.  Ahm, no. It's 8:30 in the morning. WHAT?  Uh huh, and it coincides with Daylight Savings ending.  Ok, so... you're saying at 2:00am Sunday it'll really be 1:00am Sunday?  What if I oversleep and don't wakeup until halftime?  Jane, you ignorant slut, you are ALWAYS awake at 4am.  Oh yeah, guess I am.

Friggin Germans.  HUH? Victor, ahm, Schultze?  Isn't there a bit of German in YOU?  Yeah, I reckon. But I done Wiki'ed it, the Germans are the ones that STARTED Daylight Savings time.. yeah?  Yeah, in 1916, then, a couple years later, us 'mericans did it.

Bugs me.  Victor?  Yes?  Why do you keep saying 'Bugs me"?  George Hudson, that's why.  Whointhehell is George Hudson?  German?  No... he's from New Zealand.  He was an entomologist. (BRB, looking that one up.)  A person who is an expert in the branch of zoology concerned with insects.

Ahm, tea/China... the hell does an insect expert have to do with Daylight Savings? It was HIS idea.  Yes, in the 19th Century!  He proposed it to, he "said" conserve energy and extend Summer daylight hours.  But... but I really think it was so he could have more daylight to collect insects.  Sounds sdrawkcabssa to me, hell. you wanna collect insects?  Go outside at dark-thirty, turn the porch light on, they'll come to you.

I always heard it was started so the kids didn't have to go outside in the dark and wait for the school bus.  I done Wiki'ed that too and we didn't even HAVE school busses in 1918. (Speakinowhich, is there, er, are there TWO S's in school buSSes? Actually, Victor, that's 3 S's. OK Mr. Knowitall, then how come there ain't FOUR O's in ZOO-OLOGY?

Let's do a "what if"?   OK Victor, what if?  What if you's havin' twins, and you wanted to name 'em Skip and Scoot.  Victor, why would you name twins Skip and Scoot?  Hey, I have a friend that had two sons, Skip and Scoot. He was actually a football coach at the time, and I think he envisioned them in the same backfield, you know, Skip, and Scoot.  OK Victor, back to what if.....

What if Skip was born this coming Sunday at 1:50am.... yeah..  and?..  And then Scoot was born at 2:01am, which would then really be 1:01am, so he'd skip Skip and actually be the older one, right? Bugs me.  Yeah, me too Victor.

All this Daylight Savings crap reminds me of Social Security.  I'm halfway afraid to ask...Social Security?  Yeah, if you're early 60's, listen up.  Were you aware that, say, when you turn 65, there's a one month waiting period before you get your first Social Security check?  So, do you mean then, you get that month's pay when Daylight Savings ends?   Ahm, NO.  So when do you get that month of pay back?  Uh huh, what I'm talking about.  And you think skippin' Skip was wrong, I think Uncle Sam just scooted that one right past us.  I wonder if Scoot would get his check on the 2nd Wednesday and Skip his on the 3rd Wednesday? I'm confused.  Me too, I even bet Dave Wottle would be too.

Pun mebbe intended Victor, but look at the 'bright side'.  Huh?  Yeah,  It's gonna be light when you go out and get the paper.  I call BS, I don't like to get dressed to go out and get the paper, I go out in my undies cause it's dark, no one sees me anyways.  OK, then you can go for a jog and not worry about getting hit by a car and having to wear onea them Oregon Ducklike colored vests. Ahm, like, be for real.  Me?  Jog?

OK then Victor, maybe you could go to Hy Vee for breakfast and you wouldn't hit a damn pole with your car because it'll be daylight.  Smartass. I think I'm going to skip the resta this conversation and scoot back to bed for a nap.  It's 6:00am, that's a good time for a nap.

Yes Victor, it's 6:00am here, but were you aware when it's 6am here, that it's 4:30pm in New Delhi, India? Aye yai yai.  It's twue, it's twue, it's reawwy twue!  They're halfway between two meridians, so, they decided to be 30 minutes between each. OK, lemme see if I got this right.  If Skip and Scoot both started at, let's call it 'the left meridian', and ran to New Dehli, and Dave Wottle started at the 'right meridian' and they all raced to New Dehli, who'd win?  Would you need, ahm, three stopwatches? Tea/China... do they even have Daylight Savings in India?  Social Security? Football? And whatinthehell does Dave Wottle have to do with anything? (Eh, you know, Fall back, Spring forward, that stuff.)

Screw this, I'm going for a beer.  Victor, you can't.  Huh?  Yep, Blue law, you won't be able to get a beer until..... I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT.  I'm gonna go take my pills and go back to bed. Hey, can you tell me what day it is?

Where's Waldo?  Don't ask me, it's dark out. Good, I'm going to get the newspaper then.

Love, Victurd

Are ya ready boots?...........

You keep sayin' you've got somethin' for me
Somethin' you call blog but confess
You've been a'bloggin where you shouldn't 've been a'bloggin'
And now someone else is getting all your mess....

Shoe fly don't bother me.  Walk a mile in my shoes. You have big shoes to fill.

"One shoe can change your life."  Cinderella

Me and Al Bundy usedta work at a shoe store. True.  William's owned by the Gilliams!

"Momma always said there's an awful lot you could tell about a person by their shoes. Where they're going, where they've been."  Forrest Gump

I don't really have any stories like Al Bundy, but since he's mentioned up there, why not one from the show.  Before anyone gets blister, corn, bunion or fungus mad at me, please know, I've done been heavy duty too! Uh huh, my belly dunlapped over my belt, and/or, that, I ain't no misogynist (it coulda been a man Al tried to fit).. anyways, we gotta include Al's shoe quote:

"I've had a rotten day.  A fat woman came in the store today and said she was a size five.  I shoved her hoof into a shoe, my thumb got stuck in back of the shoe. She panicked, reared up, and galloped around the store, dragging me on the floor behind her. Thank God a stick of butter popped out of her purse, so i was able to grease my way out of there."   Al Bundy

Liberty High School, circa 2022. High School basketball, Bluejays versus NKC Hornets.  The only reason NKC was in reach of Liberty, was, the obvious best player on the floor, NKC dude mebbe 6'7" or so. Had to have close to 20 points in the first half.  Mid 3rd quarter, as he drove to the basket - he had a 'flat tire', ie, his shoe 'blew out', mebbe three toes were sticking out of the hole.  NKC coach peered to the end of the bench, hollered, "ANDY, GET UP HERE."  A young ginger kid jumped up nervously.   Looked like he'd never been in a game before, so, he approached the coach in a millisec, not wanting the coach to think he couldn't handle being a replacement for the obvious best player on the floor.  He stood intently, staring confidently right up to coach's mug, awaiting coach's critical instructions:  "GIMME YOUR RIGHT SHOE ANDY."

September 14, 1963 (or thereabouts).  Franklin Elementary School, Liberty, MO. Eleven year old Stanley Savage (5th grade) forgot his gym shoes that day. Doesn't/didn't matter.  Stocking feet, he won the 600 yard dash, against all of us.

"Cowboy Boots Grandma." Circa 1980-something, Christmas.  A 7 year old's urge, want, equaling that of, say, Ralphie's urge/want for "I want a Red Ryder Carbine-action 200 shot Ranger Model Air Rifle".. .said 7 year old wanted, begged, reminded, again and again, "Cowboy boots Grandma, Cowboy boots, PLEASE!??"  This started in September.  Granny had 4 months to find 'em.  Grandparents get what grandkids want.............. continued.

Came the day.  7 year old grandson saw the rectangular "It's gotta be my Cowboy Boots" box under the tree.  But first, Christmas dinner. After sliding the green beans over by the mashed potatoes to make it look like he'd eaten most, the 7 year old was ready to race to the tree, unwrap his Cowboy Boots.  Mark, set, go (finally) happened. YAY! He was right! (Enter big smile here.)  "Granny, can you help me put 'em on?" he asked, excitedly... she tried. She pushed.  She shoved. She borrowed grandpa to see if he could help.  He pushed, he shoved. Finally, finally, right foot in Cowboy boot.  Same amount of time, finally, left foot in Cowboy Boot.  You could not wipe the smile offa 7 year old face.

"Hurt Grandma, hurt." Grandma heard him, but assumed it was due to them being new, and they simply needed breaking in.  "Hurt Grandma, hurt."  And again, "Hurt Grandma, hurt" accompanied by, when he walked, a stiff legged gait, as in yeooouuuchh..  Once the dinner table was cleared, the dishes washed, put away, she again heard, "Hurt Grandma, hurt."  It'd been an hour or so. 7 year old still smiling, but, obvious consternation over the boots hurting his feet.  Finally, she centered her attention on him.. Sat down on the floor beside him... with all her might, she finally plopped the right boot off.  Right there in the toe.... all of the paper stuffing that comes in new boots.  And the other boot, same thing.  Poor kid. Got his wish, "By gosh I'm gonna wear these no matter what!" And did. Cushion paper taken out, life was again good.

3,000 pairs, in case you wanted to know, that's how many Imelda Marcos had. 

  

Time to lace this blog up, tie a bow to it. I'm truly a simpleton. Today's insomnia even 'worser' than yesterdays.  As in, 1:50am the coffee was brewing. (Work today, I'll regret this/that.)  Anyways, the intent of today's blog.. in writing, in life, in text messages, conversation, non verbal action, I find oft times it's difficult to see the intent, purpose, from one's shoes.  That's how this started, sorry, kinda sorta. My shoes, feet, led me off the track. Sorry.  Just shoe't me.

I Nike your shoes.  People say the darndest things, like All Day I Dream About Sex. (Adidas). Phoggy guy in Lawrence says, about Adidas, "Don't ask, don't tell."... "Competitor of Nike (crossword clue, 4 letters"... ) Avia.

Life's a croc, right kennethcole? LL Bean.  Sorel.  Eddie Bauer. Skechers.  Underarmour.  Oft times, as we age, we're forced to deal with newbalance, or not.

Victor?  Yes?  Shue.

One more?  If you must.

Polydactly. Band camp, circa 1974 or so, Halloween, Sigma Nu House, William Jewell College. Haunted House. We did that, for charity.  Dressed in crazy outfits, skeered the little kids (nicely) as they traversed thru our old, squeeky floor, many room house.  My fav. We had a guy, wonderful guy, that so happened to be born with 12 toes. Polydactly i think they call it.  Anyways, 2nd floor. Room was dark, very.  Except for our buddy.  He was holding a sign "Count the toes."  A light would then focus on his bare feet, the kids would count, THEN RUN!

Shue'ing now.

Converse as you like........

Love, Victurd

When you're weary.......

Feeling small....

When tears are in your eyes

I'll dry them all

I'm on your side

Oh when times get tough

And friends just can't be found

Keep the faith... Ya open the door to take a step out... Nope.. Winter is on it's way, not doing it, not now anyways.

All your bills are paid, there's even a little bit left - there is no discourse, but ya just kinda feel 'meh'... 

Ya didn't reallly get knocked down.. but, you wouldn't mind a hand up... or, giving your hand to help one up...

The car gets you to the store... by the post office...  thru the gas station for refill...  but there's a baby knock...

TV, radio, newspaper, podcasts, social media postings are well intended, but oft time focus on the negative...

You're hungry, but ya just don't feel like eating...

Life's really ok, but you long for yummy...

I was 'there' this morning.  I didn't need Uber, nor Lyft.. but perhaps an admitted lift.

Found it, or, it found me, dunno.  Emote happened.  Life is, of course, complicated. Sometimes simply perfect happens.

I dunno if you are there... or might be sometime..  this one helped me..  maybe you'll enjoy, mebbe ya won't... mebbe I'm nutso eh?!!!!!

Anyways, have at, click the below and watch, but only if ya wanna..  Love, Victurd

Actress, singer, and domestic-abuse-survivor Becky O’Brien takes us Over the Rainbow - The Music Man