Roll out the barrel......

I get up way too early. (I go to bed way too early.) I watch ABC's World News Now. This ain't sponsored and there won't be any small rectangular box in the lower right hand corner for you to click 'Skip Ad', it's just the channel I watch....they're all kinda sorta alike... and it maybe has a touch to do with the fact this show precedes the local news, with the announcer lady I've had a goofy celebrity crush on for, oh, 20+ years now.

Good. Bad. That's life, ain't it Frank?

It's (watching the news) a compilation of events, going ons that might make you cover your eyes, grab more coffee (and a Rolaids), and then fun, human interest stories that don't last near long enough and they leave one a hollerin' "MORE! MORE!" as if you'd just watched some they-ain't-dead-yet-but-still-wonderful band saunter off the stage and you're standing, clapping, begging for more.

Then, at some point, the ABC folks bring someone out with an accordion to play their version, The World News Polka.

So, I'm a simpleton... it's ugly stuff, fun stuff (more more), aesthetically pleasing stuff (hubba hubba) and music. Frankly, that's life.

Honest, I don't like morbid, but too, reality creeps in. In case you ain't gone to the Piggly Wiggly lately, stood in line and read the National Inquirer headline about a 2016 Park City, Utah ski accident where a retired optometrist (now 75-ish) claims Gwyneth Paltrow ran into him (cha-ching), breaking four ribs, concussed, affected every aspect of his life and now wants $3+ million. Gwyneth says "nuh uh, you ran into me" so she counter sued for $1 + court costs. More.

Well, reasonable doubt, jury found in Gwyneth's favor... I read in one article (can't find it now damnit darnit) that basically went back to morbid, suggesting the guy's woes had more to do with 'that's life/you-are-aging.' (You can almost hear Norman and Ethel Thayer in the background.)  Gwyneth tapped optometrist guy on shoulder on way out "I wish you well", he replied in kind, "Thank you Dear."

Ya just never know. Imagine a circle of chairs, oh, say 21 chairs... then.. 22 of us geezers walking around while the accordion guy plays Roll Out The Barrel. The music stops. Soon restarts and there are 21 of us left for 20 chairs, etc. I abhor this particular 'etc'.

A few years back I attended a funeral with a gal I was seeing and her folks. Her Mom stated "the last of my best friends." I'll never forget that.

I guess the point being, life is fleeting. Scroll past the ugly. Stand (with your best friends) call that they-ain't-dead-yet band back for another song. (One chair for you AND one for each of your friends.) Dance to the music.

Since it's the beer barrel polka, we might as well share a beer. (Stay off the roads and the slopes if you do.)

I wish you well, love, Victurd

Life... in purple maybe

Like virtually every little boy who grew up in the 50's, 60's, the dream of course was to one day follow in the footsteps of The Mick, Say Hey or Hammerin' Hank. Dreams like that are utopic, at best, and 99.9% fail.

Perhaps we can't follow that dream, but Sports, in general, play such a huge role in society. We pick, develop favorites. We fill our chest of drawers with black and gold, crimson and blue, purple, Royal blue and in the Winter, we maybe wear red on Friday.

We decorate our walls, our Chistmas wish lists, our man caves (AND she sheds), and our hopes - with our favorites.

We go through life, sporting events in exultation or, the hurt of a dog. We raz our friends, we swallow humble pie.

We disregard, skip over articles of ne'er-do-wells (every aspect of society has a few), and we marvel at those that are wonderful, role-modeling folks.

Geez Louise, I just might fill up a drawer in my dresser with purple.

Jerome Tang, minutes before he was to coach the biggest game in his career, sought and found a silent corridor to call and express his sorrow to the parents of a K-State student who recently expired in a car wreck. He told no one of this phone call. Earlier, on campus, he'd gone to the student's sorority house to share dinner and express his condolences to them. 

A purple pattern continued.  Quite a few years ago, I had a friend who's son had a horrific work accident in Columbia, MO, and was hospitalized there. The mom had written then K-State football coach Bill Snyder, shared of her son's love for "all things K-State', included the hospital's mailing address in hopes of the coach mailing a decal, football calendar, or best case, a short note. A week or so later, K-State traveled to Columbia for a Saturday game versus MU. Late evening, the night before the game, Coach Snyder walked into the young man's hospital room for a wonderful, uplifting  visit. He told no one.

Sports are all about everything in life.. 

Like many abbreviations today (TIA, IMO, BOGO, YOLO) I'm old and I have to look the dang things up.  All through this basketball tourney I've seen EMAW (in purple) repeatedly. OK, I give, I looked it up....

'Every Man A Wildcat'....

It's all our hope we all have the heart of a Wildcat.

I don't know why, perhaps Smitty will die..

 There was an old lady who swallowed a fly

I don't know why she swallowed a fly - perhaps she'll die!

The song could actually end here as there are a kajillion diseases one could get. Not a fan of flies. Ever almost have a wreck because ONE DAMN FLY got in your car and you frantically roll down windows, wave, woosh, swat...think it went out, windows back up, then, after ten seconds of silence.....bzzzzzzzzzzz?.. Bill Cosby (I know, but he was funny) said "October is my favorite month - the flies get slow.".. Tell me you've never walked by one of those fly glue trap things you unwind, hang - AND THEN get your hair in it?...  Whenever I think of the fly, I think of Jeff Goldblum. Eww.

There was an old lady who swallowed a spider,
That wriggled and wiggled and tiggled inside her;
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!

Ever do a back bend in the forest when you feel your face planted mid- spider web? I know there are good spiders, poisonous spiders, BUT, like snakes, I ain't takin' the time to figure out which. When I think of spiders, I think of women screaming. Don't tell, me too.

There was an old lady who swallowed a bird;
How absurd to swallow a bird.
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!

Poor bird. A well a everybody's heard about the bird... B-b-b-bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word. Ever have them basta's fly into the glass of your window (again, again, again and again?) Someone said to tape a picture of a human head on the window and it would scare them away - so - I taped the mug of one of our extremely good natured buddies (who we tease unmercifully), worked, and of course I told him he was scary.

There was an old lady who swallowed a cat;
Fancy that to swallow a cat!
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!

Cat huh? This is kinda like an assbackwards 12 Days of Christmas. Why would you swallow a cat? (Nevermind, don't wanna hear... I still enjoy those buffets vely much.)

There was an old lady that swallowed a dog;
What a hog, to swallow a dog;
She swallowed the dog to catch the cat,
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!

Poor Fido. Man's best friend, not entre'. Old Yeller, Hooch, Benji, Rin Tin Tin, Lassie, Toto, NO!! (Even though Toto is kinda bite-size ) Deputy Dog, Snoopy, Goofy, Astro. I'm hungry, Scooby Dooby Doo, where are you? RUH ROH!

There was an old lady who swallowed a cow,
I don't know how she swallowed a cow;
She swallowed the cow to catch the dog,
She swallowed the dog to catch the cat,
She swallowed the cat to catch the bird,
She swallowed the bird to catch the spider,
She swallowed the spider to catch the fly;
I don't know why she swallowed a fly - Perhaps she'll die!

Despicable thought, udderly.. Calm down Clara, where's the vegetables? Besides, at $8.99 a pound, the hell would it cost?

There was an old lady who swallowed a horse...
She's dead, of course!

NOOOOOOOOO! NO, not Seabiscuit, Black Beauty, Secretariat? My Friend Flicka? No Belmont, Preakness, KENTUCKY DERBY? Do you realize how hard it might be for a 5'3", 107 lb man to find a job?

Sorry, kinda. I was REALLY bored, just horsin' around.

(Many years ago, we kids lived in a neighborhood next to the local college. There was a college student who would bring his guitar, us kids would gather around and he'd play songs for us like the one above. Scared our parents though, "Be careful, ya never know." Never know what? He was fun, talented and nice. The more he came, the more they worried. They kept saying they thought he was "some kinda funny." One mom even called the cops. They said they couldn't do nuttin'.  Our folks held a meeting at Frank's house. Frank was a friendly enough guy. We used to wave and say Hi when we went to Safeway and he was behind the butcher counter where he worked. Weird, last time we saw college guy singer feller, there was a neighnorhood Block Party/BBQ that night. Meat tasted kinda funny. Smitty even bit into his burger and found a 'pick'.)

Perhaps he'll die.

Love, Victurd

Awful good.

 I hate/love that.

It's lifelike. (If you'll notice, sentence one above is indented. This one ain't, looks awful. Good, I guess.)

Jobs are awful, payday ain't.  

Forrest reminds, "I'm an excellent driver." Me too... good even. Then I got married, learned I was awful. Don't get me wrong, happy. An awful good marriage, so to speak (enter a smiley face here because I'm awful at computer crap and dunno how to, but, good of you to envision.)

You put the lime in the coconut and drink it all up. Tastes awful good, bellyache gone...awful though that I broke out in hives.

You take the good with the bad... like a red rubber ball... or a rollercoaster (some throw their arms up in jubilation, pee a bit.... others might throw __, and ____ a bit. Eww.)

Many years of awfully good lasagna, spaghetti, bowling alley 300 burgers, many emptied 30-packs of beer, have caused my physique (which, long ago when I turned sideways in the mirror looked like --> 'I' ).. now looks like --> 'b' when turned sideways. All that good food, drink, done that. Ain't it awful?

Life. Teeter, totter. (Remember the hefty kid in school that was teased somethin' awful, but got his revenge at recess when he hoisted you six foot in the air on the teeter totter, jumped off, had a good laugh whilst your tailbone hurt awfully bad for three months? Me too.)

Retirement, awfully good.  (Remember? I'm an excellent driver. good even.) Hell's bells, now I have an awful time seeing the white lines at night. Color me soon to be a day driver.  Don't cry for me Argentina, I've driven hella miles, had an awfully good life.

Dance to the music, dance to the music. He's gonna add a drummer for people who only need a beat. Then, add a guitar, to make it easy to move your feet.  I'm gonna add some bottom so that the dancers just won't hide. You might like to hear my organ, I said a ride Sally, ride. GO FOR IT SALLY, keep on'a dancin'! It feels AWFUL GOOD! Besides, there' a defibrillator in the back room, and I'll rub your feet when yur done.

The good, the bad, the ugly. Cats come to you (or not). Jump on your lap. Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Awful good feeling. Get up, uh huh, hairball.

Imagine Steve Martin, whatever his character's name was, frustrated something awful, talking to his wife about the complexities of life, parenting, "Life is messy..I hate messy."  Wife's grandma, very aged, pipes in with "You know, when I was young, Grandpa took me on a roller coaster. Up and down, up, down. Oh what a ride. I always wanted to go again. It was just interesting to me that a ride could make you so frightened, so scared, so sick, so excited..and so thrilled all together. Some didn't like it, they went on the merry-go-round. That just goes around. Nothing. I like the roller coaster. You get more out of it."

Color me a simpleton, that's one of my favorite scenes EVER. (Never mind the fact Martin poo-pooed her speech, wife stood up for grandma, said "I happened to have loved it." They were all going somewhere, Granny went to get in the car after her diddy.. Martin peeked out the window, smirked, "If she's so wise, all-knowing then why is she sitting in the neighbor's car?")

Life is so imperfect it's perfect. Tomorrow is another day. Laughing until your belly hurts would never happen without shedding an occasional tear. 

Check Engine Light is GONNA eventually come on, a given. Answer that damn phone, buy that extended warranty. It's an awful good idea.

Life really begins when you are finally 42" tall and you're allowed to get on the ride.

Love, Victurd

Does size matter?

 In the NFL, offensive tackles are usually taller (and heavier), so they can keep monster, maniac defensive ends from getting their grubby paws on precious quarterbacks. So, like they may consume 6,000 calories a day compared to the smaller, squattier interior lineman counterparts, guards and centers who eat mebbe 5,000 calories a day.

Those BIGN'S can also make upwards of $20 MILLION a year (compared to $1 to $10 MIL for guards, centers - so yeah I'd say that matters. Logic would say "start eating" eh? Count me in!

Then again, we got David and Goliath... Daniel La Russo and Johnny Lawrence (wax on wax off kick the bigger guy's arse) and of course Ralphie knocking the eye out of the bully Scut Farkus. (I was gonna list Popeye and Bluto but that was spinach induced.)

Big matters in an airline center seat, on a basketball court, when you're a tall guy walking thru a low threshold.

Poor Barney Fife. I watched an episode the other day where some highfalutin new County Commissioner mandated "all deputies must be (minimally) 5'8" and 135 pounds. Andy begged, pleaded, highfalutin wouldn't budge. Barney, 5'7 1/2, buck-twenty-seven", walked in defeatedly in street clothes to hand in his badge, gun (and bullet). "Now wait a minute Barn...."Andy had an idea....

Aunt Bea could fatten him up, and "remember when Chuck was havin' back problems and Doc' put that thing on him and stretched him out?" So they tried. Barney ate and ate (like an offensive tackle) and then two hours a day Barn went in the closet, had this contraption thing under his chin with a rope over the clothes hanging bar, attached to a weight that lifted Barney's head up.  It's impossible to use keyboard strokes to 'paint' a picture of Barney's facial expression as he did this (you're probably old like me, just envision Barney's panic look!) Poor Opie thought Barn was trying to hang himself and charged his buddies a nickel apiece to watch thru the window.

Ended up, Barney did stretch to 5'8", but, he kept getting the hiccups when trying to down Aunt Bea's fare. Andy saved the day ("it's permissible to have an ID on a chain under your uni") by having Barney wear what looked to be a 5 lb log chain under his uni as he weighed in.

Does size/matter matter? Hefty trash bags, gigantic sales,...humongous.. immense... husky...substantial... prodigious.. whopping...

Grandson's first soccer game yesterday... a tad nervous for him... He's 10 in a 12 and under league, probaly the smallest on the team. Holy guacamole, this little bitty gal on the purple team (and I mean little bitty, like a head shorter than my grandson and two heads shorter than his tallest teammate) - anyways, little bitty dribbled around, over and through the much bigger red dudes to the tune of five goals.

So, there you have, any, everything about size matters, sometimes.

Huh?  You were expecting?

Pervert.

Love, Victurd

Feeling gooder.

I did Wordle today and I got it in three and I'm surely convinced it's because the word was SURLY.  I have admittedly, been that of late, and it's a bit like having a wonderful plate of IHOP pancakes (Yum!), eggs, sausage, coffee (wakeup and smile Victor it's GONNA be a good day, ie, "make it so"...................and then I realize there is syrup on pages 4, 5, 6 and 7 of the Sport's page, that's always where they stick articles on my beloved MU Tigers....sooooooo...

See? SURLY.

This morning at home, one eye on FB, one eye on the TV World News (kinda Marty Feldman-style I guess).. Certain you probably watched the Oscars, maybe not, dunno...anyways, when Dan Scheinert (and his coworker) won Best Director....in his speech he said

"I had a fantasy as a kid of winning an award and going up and telling off all the teachers that gave my brother and I detention so here goes......I'm just kidding, these are the teachers that changed my life....Ms. Dummier, Mr. Toole, Mr. Hudson, Mr. Chambers...(etc).. You guys educated me, you inspired me, you taught me to be less of a butthead,"

FEEL GOODER!  It DOES still work, it DOES still matter!

Then, World News tracked down Ms. Dummier... "I was sitting there doing a crossword puzzle (I'm your age ma'm, I get it) and I heard my, and other teacher names.... it was so nice to hear someone thanking public school teachers....sure I remember him, 4th grade...I don't really know what I did for him, I treated him like all the others...but I do know, if I see him again I'll run up and give him a big ole hug!"

FEELING GOODER AND GOODER!

This is where I backspaced out all the stupid judgmental stuff I was gonna spew about things I see in SOME youth today...

Victor, is this where you surly, oops, meant surely, lull us to sleep with another personal story?

Yes. It is.

Drove to see my 10 year old grandson's first ever (first ever, any sport) soccer practice. I was excited but my eyeballs were nowhere as big and excited as my grandson's. It conjured many a fine memory...as a kid...a parent... and a coach.  I'm fat, lazy and it was cold (32) so of course I sat inside my heater running, beat up old Caddy, outta earshot of the snotnoses (said lovingly) on the field.

Not 3 minutes into practice, grandson knocked on his 10 year old butt by a humongous 12 year old who most assuredly can write his name in cursive beautifully, frontwards...and backwards. BIG teaching/coaching/kid moment. He got up and did fine which made me think the coach handled it well by saying something like "good try" or maybe even saying nothing, allowing the kid to progress (or not) on his own. Kids are darn smart.

A few minutes later, they were arranged in positions. It was pretty obvious those on the back row were the smallest, youngest, and included my grandson (do not pass midfield, do not collect $200, no soup (or kicks on goal) for you. OK, I get it. We can live with a year of this (destined to defense only) for a year...bigger...smarter...front line next year...

Then the coach blew his whistle...at least I think he did, I had "You can't always get what you want" cranked 'cause it's my favorite song.

Well I'll be darned, I look up, and he'd switched. The little-bittys were on the "go try for a goal" frontline, and the behemoths were sequestered on the no-soup-for-you back row. I LIKE this coach!

FEEL GOODER AND GOODER!

Lessons. In life (and soccer) there will be times you'll get knocked on your butt. If you work hard, someone will give you a chance. And, no matter where you go there are pretty girls.

HUH? Yeah, three of 'em on his team.

Maybe one day in Heaven (fingers crossed) I'll be doing Sudoku, watching The World Cup and I'll hear this handsome young man thanking his pee wee soccer coach for encouraging him to get up when he got knocked on his can..."oh, and thanks to my Grandpa for helping me listen to really good music."

Victor? Yes? No advice for the little man on women?  DANG, and just when I was FEELING GOODER. Surly, er, I mean surely you jest. Jest a tad mebbe.

IT'S BEEN A GREAT TWO DAYS TO ASCERTAIN TEACHERS, COACHES DO STILL MATTER!

You can't always get what you want, but life is pretty dang good.

Love, Victurd

Regarding today..............

I simply don't wanna 'today' today.

I spit in a tube, mailed it back into AncestryDot, who knew, Ferris Buehler is my 13th cousin, I can't.

I sit next to 'Horshack', would you wanna go?

What if I have to poop?

I'm nocturnal.

I'm on my last pair of clean undies...as of yesterday.... what if there's an accident?

Who will walk the dog?

I just did March 11 last year.

Bears hibernate SEVEN months. I just want one day.

There's a hair in my bellybutton and I won't be able to concentrate until I get it out.

My friend made 47 posts about Rock Chalk something or other, I may vomit.

I hit my last 7 golf balls in the woods on the front nine, thus, I don't have gas money.

Truth? Don't you ever feel like not wanting to 'today' today?

I'm staying home. I probably stink to high Heaven but the cat still sits on my lap.  There are people out there. I can't afford gas, hamburger, eggs, TP, a new house anyways.

Someone said something on Facebook I disagree with, this may take awhile to recover.

My dog ate my homework so I fed him to the goat. (Never mind the dogwalking quote above.)

I got up on the wrong side of the bed, thus, I was late getting to the bathroom.

It's supposed to rain.

I need way more than 24 hours to ptepare for Daylight Savings. I can't even find a 9 volt battery.

I think I might have tricky nosis. That turkey sucked.

I may spread germs... a bad attitude.... rumors.

My WiFi is down and I have Wordle-shakes.

Fauci said I shouldn't.

I CAN'T miss the Iowa caucuses.

My electricity just went