I'm in pieces, bits and pieces.....

Blackbird singing in the dead of the night.........

No, that ain't it.

Hi, my name is Victor, and I'm a songoholic...

Conversations run in one ear, apparently there's a cork in the other ear..  then exit the brain down to the mouth, a song, or, at least some form of lyrics come out....This ain't a song, but, quoting Beetlejuice, "Somebody help me!"

Well you can tell everyone I'm a down disgrace
Drag my name all over the place
I don't care anymore

Victor, we've been keeping track.  Of the last 364 blogs, mebbe 272 of 'em have contained things, about you.

Well you can tell everyone I'm a down disgrace
Drag my name all over the place
I don't care anymore

STYMIE HALT!!!!!  Stop?  In the name of love?  No. Hells nos.  I can't stop loving you?  NO, NO, NO, NO.

That Phil Collin's song...   "I don't care anymore."

This is where this blog switches from ME (Victor, wait.  Me?  You mean like Rescue Me? No.. Touch Me? No, not the Doors and I ain't no prevert.  Love me tender?  NO, NO, NO, you're getting me all shook up, stop.

Blog turn.  ME to...... US.  Just the two of us? NO.  Us old people.  Old man take a look at myself?  Yes, I mean, NO.

Anything, everything, bend me shape me anyway you want me.....  no, that ain't it.  Patience. I, and I believe MOST old people, ain't got near as much patience as we had from the days of "eat your veggies"..  "Time's up, test is over, put your pencils down".. Victor this is kinda hard to read without you breaking out into song...........

Ahm, OK, howabout thanks for having my baby. (We are STILL describing the path, events that have led us from young, to old, "I don't care anymore.") You mean like follow the yellow brick road? Hit the road Jack? On the road again?  Yes, er, I mean NO, eh, whatever.

Every step I take (Good gosh why did I do that one.)  Everything.  You mean like lil Stevie said?  Baby, everything is all tight, uptight, outta sight.  NO.   Everything is beautiful?  Yes, I MEAN NO!

Sure, everything (most) in life is beautiful (Clam it Louie, we know it's a Wonderful World).. it's just that, as I, WE age, patience runs out.

Well you can tell everyone I'm a down disgrace
Drag my name all over the place
I don't care anymore

I watch the news....... Nope, don't care about that. I don't care anymore. CHANGE CHANNEL.

I read the paper.  Read headline of article... I don't care anymore..   click arrow at bottom right, next page.  Popeye didn't sing it but said it, "I cants bes nos doctor cause I ain't gots no patience."  

Me?  I don't care anymore

Some, many things, not all.  Just patience (fancy for I KNOW LIFE IS SHORT, THERE AIN'T MUCH TIME LEFT, PICK AND CHOOSE, I AIN'T GONNA WASTE TIME ON UGLY, CRAP I AIN'T GOT NO INTEREST IN, NEGATIVE ARTICLES, SHOWS, OP EDS, WHATEVER.

I don't care anymore.

I got better things to do with my time
I don't care anymore
Do you hear, I don't care anymore
I don't care no more
You listening? I don't care no more
No more

Victor, you really ARE a grumpy old fart.  No, you got it all wrong, you're off base.  Baseball?  You mean like "Put me in coach.. I'm ready to play,... today.. put me in coach.. I'm ready to play.. today.. look at me.. I can be.. centerfield."  No, not that.

I find things I usedta maybe care a tad about, no longer.  I do not mean depression on this.  Maybe just the opposite.  I ain't got time for a bad day. YOLO.  There already is all kindsa yuck in our World. I vote, use a fly swatter...  remote control..  computer, click "next page", look at caller ID, ahm, NOPE, not now.

We need positive. I'm positive.  Ya mean like you light up my life?  Eh, yeah. I'm pickin up good vibrations, eh mebbe. Groovin' on a Sunday afternoon?  No, no, no, no.. don't let 'em know you're that old.. Oh hell, who cares.  That's what this is about.

HOP.  We are at the dusk of 'hop' in our lives.  Ya mean like let's go to the hop?  No.

SKIP.  Our age, skip over stuff like consternation, hatrid, one-sided crap, "We/They" arguments.  You mean like Skip to my lou Victor? I give up.

JUMP.  Jump into good, happy.  Hug, kiss. Play that funky music. Smile a little smile for me.  Jumpin Jack Flash Victor?  Eh sure, why not.

I only wish I had a way where I could write at the very top of this blog the message of the day.  If there is something you don't enjoy, move on.  Don't stop. Don't read. Don't watch. Time is short. Thataway, if this too (this blog) is boring to them, I'd advise them to not read, don't click, carry on, smoke 'em if ya got em.

Victor?  Yeah?  Don't worry, no one got this far anyways.

Don't worry be happy.....

I got better things to do with my time
I don't care anymore
Do you hear, I don't care anymore
I don't care no more
You listening? I don't care no more
No more

Love, Victurd

(If L&L Motors mentions Casey Kasem, this blog will self destruct in two minutes.)

Also, wanna apologize.  In proofreading, I see there are two sets of intended parentheses, up there, but on each...  I only did the ( and I forgot to close it using the ) on the other end.  Victor, that's dumb, why not just fix it so you wouldn't have to write all this crap here?

I don't care anymore

I writ me a poem, I did I did....

Words stalled, hid and hid.

Hadta think, whadda I wanna say?

It's justa same ole, same ole day..

Ain't it?

Paint it? 

Victor?  Sappy?  Must we all rejoice?

Nuh uh, but... smile or frown, it is our choice....

Pet a dog....... have a log..  (Hey, it's healthy)

A good day don't take, us'a  bein' wealthy.

Give a word of thanks, wing a comp, have some fun...

You preachin' Victor? Nope, just waitin' on the sun.

I truly love life, but, I have to stop and remind......

If what I'm about to say/blurt, is nice and kind.

We can battle.. and battle.. inside our own brains....

Victor plz don't rhyme with underwear stains....... 

(sorry, a slip, best way I've found, simply a flip)

Gas too high?  Bemoan that fact?

Hell to the no, just react... 

Ride a bike, take a hike (and I mean that in a nice way)

Monday can be yummy, if we take charge, create the day

I'm going to golf..  Can't drive... irons poopy... chipping stinks..  putting sure to suck...

Ahm, I'm in nature, with buddies, geese, squirrels, chirping birds, greens, ponds, I call it luck.

Can one smile an entire mile?

Take a respite, no ugly on the shelf...

Laugh with others, mostly at ourself...

Breakfast, lunch, dinner.. whatever ya want to fill in the blanks...

We might as well smile.. and have a day of thanks.

Have trouble saying it, when push comes to shove?

Spell it out... L.O.V.E.. go ahead and try..  l-o-v-e, LOVE.

Didya smile?  Feel good baby tinkle, maybe a tad wetter?

Back to stains, no worry, it'll makeya feel better.

All this... too sappy, sappy, sappy, sappy, sappy?

Eh, be happy, get a grand on your lappy, hells bells, take a short nappy

Make a list... I know, howabout favorite words to say....

Hi, nice, kind, smile, hug, yes, love, yummy, sweet, g'day...

Peek across the room........ anyone there?

Tell em ya love 'em, it'll sweeten the air.

Hold a hand, toss a smile, give a hug,

Find a 'termite', lay on the rug....

If we think it, mebbe it's a premonition,

A good day, key to the ignition

That smile across the room, love said, a good heart..

Easy from the easy chair, a certain remote start..

 

Too manly?  Married too long?  Not in the mood for that?

Then bitch, moan, eat bon bons, get fat. 

(Not)

"Not today..   I'm kinda fickle."

Lay down here, damnit, we'll tickle

Sshhhhhhhh...  listen...  ain't nothin' wonderful? Much, awaitin' a smile...

Now ya got it... I REALLY like your style..... 

Sure this is silly..  sappy.. rhymed with force..  

Point being though, life really is a choice.

We're all imperfect... some days will be poopy, all, or, a good part..

Recognizing, knowing, gives us a good start.

Don't wait on the sun.........

Start now, have some fun.

Love, Victurd

Duck feet.... or holy gosling!

Golf Friday.  17th hole.  Pond on left.   The geese, aplenty, were pretty much paired off in twos.  Then, Katy barred the door..... they broke up, chased, flitted across the pond.. the noise almost unbearable.  One of us old male geezer piggies suggested "that's gotta be the female."  MISOGYNIST!  AM NOT!  ARE TOO!  AM NOT!

Anyways, I've lived all these 71 years not knowing "This is the time of year geese, and actually most all birds mate."

I was actually gonna do a blog on duck's feet, beneath the surface, and how those correlate to real life, "ya never know what's going on in someone's world", eh, but I do that sappy stuff all the time..  let's delve into mating.  Me thinks that Austin Powers feller might say "YEAH BABY!"

Panda's.  The following strory reminds me, kinda, of a country western song, situation, bar scene.  It's virtually impossible for pandas to mate in captivity.  Filmmakers in China followed three pandas in the wild.  An older feller and a younger guy had a tense standoff over a female panda who'd perched herself high up in the tree (bar stool?).  She came down the tree, but, wasn't ready to mate and actually fought the old feller.

The two male pigs, er, pandas, followed the panda gal for weeks, similar old guy/young guy battles happened.. old guy finally gave up.. young panda, female panda, uh huh, mated.  Cantya hear George Strait or Luke Bryan singing about that one? Hunka hunka Panda Love.

Skip this paragraph if you don't want an "EWW" moment.  Male giraffes taste a lotta pee before mating, uh huh, do. That's because the only way males (bulls) can tell if females (cows) are fertile is to determine if specific pheromones are present in her urine.  The male nudges her genitalia, sometimes it takes a few nudges, then finally urine happens, the male (bull) sniffs, determines yay/nay, ready to mate. That's a tall order.

It is said it takes, sometimes, nudging up to 150 females before finding one who is ready to mate. Goodness gracias, that's excruciatingly long!  Ahm, Victor?  Yes?  Do we need to discuss your past history?  Ahm, let's just move on to the next animal perty please.  What I thought.

Sea slugs possess both male and female sex organs.  Eh, mebbe for another day eh?

Pufferfish are kinda interesting.  On the ocean floor, the male creates a really cool looking mystery circle, flapping their fins to make intricate ridges and valleys.  Then, they'll find shell fragments and decorate their 'sculpture'.  Takes, sometimes, up to 7 to 9 days... after interested females are fertilized... they'll lay their eggs in the center of the circle. WOW, all that trouble - I can remember, kinda, back in the day it was a bottle of Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill and a bagga pretzels.  The times, oceans, are'a changin'.

Mice.  "Male mice seeking to impress a mate sing unique high-pitched songs, vocalizing in the ultrasonic range. They produce these whistling sounds — which differ greatly from normal communication" some source said.  Eh, why not.  Not so fast Mickey, the female mice are not easily appeased by voice.. they prefer tunes that differ from those sung by their relatives (I promise not to say Arkansas).  Picky, female mice are.  "I really can't stay...   "Baby it's cold outside."

Porcupines.  Mercy.  The female goes into 'estrus' once a year for eight to twelve hours. Prior to ovulating, she'll secrete a fragrant vaginal mucous to attract the male porcupine.  Dude must fend of other porcy guys, do his thing... it's prolly for certain, a few weeks later she boots him outta the nest, "Git outta here you prick".  Victor, you ARE a misogynist, AM NOT, ARE TOO, AM NOT!

I shoulda stuck with duck feet under the water.

Short one today. QUIT PEEKIN!  I gotta go to work.

Have a nice day............mate.

Episodes by Duck Dynasty, Walt Disney, Animal Planet.

"Panda Love" lyrics by George Strait and Luke Bryan

Love, Victurd

For granted.........

Me, me, me. Sorry, Kinda, but hopefully for just a short... 

For the last 21 years, I've been the lone survivor of a nuclear family of four.  The reason I point this out, is, when asked about family, I always reply "I couldn't have painted a better picture/family to grow up in.... the basta's (said VERY lovingly) just all checked out too soon."

A typical Schultze evening: 

Dinner around the table, four of us. With no stated agenda, we each pretty much shared the ongoings of our day. Usually, yes, it was our mom that cooked... Good stuff, aplenty.  Leftovers, placed in the fridge for perhaps the next day.  Later that night, off to bed.

We all arrived in bed at differing times.. usually fairly close chronologically. Folks in their room, prior (maybe, dunno?) to king size beds - mom, dad had two twin beds held together with bungie cords, comfy. Sister in her own room, nice sized bed.  me, the twerp, on a twin in my room.

Corny mebbe, yet, we loved:  "Night mom, I love you, you're the best mom in the world."  Each, mom, dad, sister Vanda, twerp me, would repeat and offer same "love... best dad, best sister, best son,.." yada.

Lucky we were, and I do not take that for granted.

Much. Much today, different. Absent parents, step parents/children, being raised by grandparents, foster parents... worked with a gal, her mom left the family (a few years after her father had) when she was age 8.  Eight. No grands around. I can't imagine, fathom.

I awakened this morning thinking about pissing and moaning... "wish I had this...  that.. "  My pity party moments, thankfully, are short-lived, as there of course is the old standby, "there is ALWAYS someone worse off than you."

I Googled about things we take for granted.  Much.

That meal above, our family gathered.  One in nine... ONE IN NINE, go to bed hungry Worldwide. We, had leftovers in the fridge.

One in nine go to bed hungry.

It can be even worse.  Those, there, lucky enough to have their own bed. In the United States alone, it is believed 700,000 children share a bed..... over 440,000 sleep on the floor as they don't even have one.  Imagine those numbers Worldwide.

We have hot and cold water.  Many don't.

Roof above.  Ain't always the case.

Well and supportive.  Again, I was lucky, the above, easily offering the stated word love. So, so many don't have that.  

Five senses.  Lucky.

Car.  I do hereby swear the next time I gripe, groan, trying to set the alltime record for Wally World sacks carried in one trip - to never bemoan that. You see 'em, I see 'em.  Many don't have transportation.  Many afoot, one bag in each hand walking across town.  Rain, snow, ice, cold, immense heat, no choice, it's a have to. Imagine that it may not be all they need in those two sacks - a second, third trip needed - perhaps doing without until enough energy, money, for trip #2.  It's a for sure, there are those that cannot physically make that walk, and some, perhaps no family around to help.

We, I think most of us can admit, take much for granted.  AC. Heat. Blankets, clothes, shoes, hats, gloves, aplenty. Cupboards, fridges, freezers. TV's, radios, computers, phones. 

Not a hunnerd percent sure why I write this stuff...  one reason, for sure, is I know I catch myself drippy, droopy, woe-is-me, occasionally before I slap myself in the face to awaken to the reality life is pretty dadgum good for me. Hop in if you're in that boat.

There's ALWAYS someone worse off.  Damnit darnit. Sad, but true.

Love, Victurd

Ooga-chaka ooga-ooga Ooga-chaka ooga-ooga Ooga-chaka ooga-ooga Ooga-chaka ooga-ooga

I can't stop this feeling

Deep inside of me

OK, so it ain't really deep inside.. it's just there, sometimes.  Festers, mebbe a bit, every once in awhile.. .. Like, "Damnit, I feel a zit coming on, I know I do."

Yesterday, mebbe late last night, coulda even been lying  in bed (or is it laying? I was a Physical Education major, not English)... . and I was having onea them 'poor poor pitiful me' moments, days, months, yada... 

Ya ever have them 'ain't it awful' droops, saggy moments on some things??

Please, no takey this/that wrong, I LOVES me life..There is MUCH right.. . there are just a few things I would change, rearrange, etc. (Like mebbe, having a fenced yard complete with hound, perhaps, a perty, smiley partner)... ok, enough about me.

Then I thought....... ya know, I ain't really gotta dedicated approach to change a gosh darn thing.  Procrastinate, procrastinate, dance to the music. Whilst I loves me some status quo things, work, golf, family, my buddies, sports, writing, outside, yum, much.  I don't concentrate, plan, take steps to improve, change things to mebbe enhance life even better. YOU do dat?

No.  Hells to the no's. I ain't talking rock bottom.

But...  VICTOR, we've spoken 98 times about "You CAN'T start a sentence with 'BUT'. "  Ahm, OK.

But, I was a PE major.  But, let's pretend 'rock bottom', kinda like the mule that fell in the well.  Sure you've read the Band Camp story, but in case ya ain't.  Farmer's mule fell in the well.

Farmer heard it braying, mebbe 'crying'... assessed the situation.. while he sympathized with the old mule, he decided neither the mule or the well were worth the trouble of saving, SO, he Facebook messaged (I added this part!) all his neighbors, told of plans, "Bring shovels".. his village showed up.. they dug, tossed dirt in the well..  mule, at first, hyrsterical.  Soon, not so much.

Mule decided to 'shake off each shovel of dirt'. and use the rising pile of dirt/sod, to step up, neared the toppa the well.  Soon, whilst battered and exhausted, there he was, up/out of the well. What seemed like could bury him, actually blessed him.

Ain't no sunshine when it's dark. No, wait, that was the eclipse, last week, sorry.

Bah-da, bah-da bah-da... No, damnit Victor.. that was Monday Monday, a blog from a a few weeks ago.

Oh yeah, sorry.

Whilst the mule didn't plan... he did figure a way.

Gonna talk sports now.  NO VICTOR, NO MORE SPORTS. NO MORE SPORTS.  NO MORE SPORTS.

Sorry, not really sorry.  This is lil ole Kansas City.  In the last 20, 30, fitty years, we hadn't won chit.  Truth.  Last decade, been to two World Series (won one), been to 4 Super Bowls (won 3).. hell to the yes we're gonna talk sports.  Soon, both teams will suck, I'll be tucked away in the urn and you'll run onto a blog, perhaps about howthehell to save, grow, an orchid, mebbe even poseys.  Ya know?

Royals won it all in 2015.  Pretty much 'bring a pocket fulla posey' ever since because they're really stunk it up. (If ya ain't Googled that nursery rhyme, don't, yuck).  Anyways, right there in black and white this morning.  Bobby Witt Jr (he's the baseball version of Patrick Mahomes).. 

Lil by lil, they're improving.  That Witt feller noted (from the morning paper) All of which has changed the essence of what it means to take it one day at a time this year: working to keep building “step by step, brick by brick,” as Witt put it, instead of to hoist themselves out of a bottomless pit.

Bottomless pit...  a mule in a well... 

No cause for alarm.  A lil bit, dirt, brick, one day, at a time.

So, before ya know it... if I plan (or, if you plan) we can move dirt, gather victories, paint an even more pertier life.........

I see...a new place, complete with big ole fenced yard, a miniature schnauzer (we'll call him Bruiser) AND a big ole' canardly tell, part lab part who knows brown hound (we'll call him Gabe Jr, or, Junior for short, or Witt, dunno)..  and then, we'll add to the recipe a 64 year old rich divorced doesn't speak English blonde (calm down, just kidding), we'll add an old raisin lady that smiles so nicely I wouldn't give a crap if she kicked my butt in Scrabble.

Well, well, well.. 

Or, brick by brick.

Paul Harvey, good day.

There she was just a-walkin' down the street, singin'
'Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy do'

Victor, you're nuts.  Mebbe.  Who cares? I can't stop this feeling

Deep inside of me

Love, Victurd

Unique, just like you......

I think it was Dion that once said, sang:

'Cause I'm a wanderer
Yeah, a wanderer
I roam around, around, around

My grandson, some 7 years or so ago (he's 11 now)...   Poor poor pitiful me (jk) had to juggle my eyeballs (yeah, Marty Feldman-style) and train them on a one yr old, the 4 yr old and a 6 yr old.  At the park.  Nifty, colorful slides, swings, fellow snotnoses to make new friends with.. if that tweren't enough to entertain, there was pea gravel, and/or, perhaps chopped up bark to sample as a dinner appetizer.

They each did their age-appropriate thing. My right eye was trained on the infant... left, on the oldest.  Oh hell, where's my grandson? (4)...   Soon, I would see his little hiney 50 yards aways as he was running off to wherever it was he was headed, whatever had caught his attention over the normal things kids gravitate to.  By the time I caught him, we were a hunnerd yards away from the others.  The little turd! This happened, time and again.

Thankfully, that was some years back, I couldn't run fast, but, at that time in my life, at least 'run' was still in my dictionary.  As I bounded toward him, my mind too wandered from "you little shit!" to laughter, hell-to-the-yeah, PAINT OUTSIDEA THE LINES, you go buddy, you go!"

Fast forward some years from now.. .(Of course, by then, I'll be, "to every thing, urn, urn, urn, there is a season, urn, urn") but, I can just see the kid driving a chartreus micro-bus, hair down to his shoulders, traveling two months or so across Europe, just he, his van and his backpack.  Avoid the yellow brick road... Avoid the yellow brick road, avoid avoid avoid avoid... avoid the yellow brick road.

'Cause He's a wanderer
Yeah, a wanderer
He roams around, around, around

"Celebrate the idea that you don't fit in. Find your own fit. Stay unique." Betsey Johnson

We spend the 'formative' years of our life in a funnel, swirling down, through, just like everyone else, as, that's the plan.  Do this don't do that can't you read the sign.

Conform, it's easier eh?

Because they said I had to.

I couldn't do that.

Please say "Moo" and keep moving thru the gate.

 

A few years back, I shared (or mebbe shoved down your throat, depending on your take) a paper my father had written in college in 1950 regarding race relations of that day.  Proudly, a buddy wrote "A real explorer in social terms.  I admire his alternative take on life and wish more people were independent thinkers as he was.  Cheers to those who beat to to a different drum."  If this is bragging, so be it, I'm proud of both my father and my grandson for their uniqueness, just like yours.

Speakin'a drums, I know not everyone likes In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida (it's fer sure disc jockeys who gotta go #2 do), but thank goodness there's so much to pick and choose from.. pop, rock, country, jazz, blues, heavy metal, punk, folk, jazz, blues, Indie, yada, yada, yada.

Of course there are many societal limits and 'goodies' (laws, taxes, one way roads, yada) we must all conform to.  But, fill your drawers up how ya wanna.  You can't wear socks under sandals. Watch me. (Editor's note.. always do the underwear thing.  Commando, sure, was cool back in the day.. but we're too damn old for that if ya get my drift by crackie.)

I won't use the word hate, but, mebbe abhor instead.  As we travel this asphalt, cobblestone, gravel, grassy, dirt, yellow brick path of life...  I plan to continue to swerve around those that never got outta the hall monitor mode from school.

I'm off.. (to see the Wizard?) No, not that road. I'm off to find a carnival that sells a good funnelcake.  I'll devour that.  Drive home at the speed limit. (I know, daring eh?) Then, I'll kick my feet up, have a glass, bottle of whatever I wanna...  and eat a whole dadgum box of GS Thin Mint cookies.

You can't do that!

Wa... ah, Ahm, ... eh, nevermind....   (belch, burp)

And when you can't be... with the one you love, honey......  love the life you're with.

Love, Victurd

Block party......

Writer's block.  Victor?  Yeah?  Who said you were a writer?  Good point.

Wooden blocks. Among a child's first toy. Solid wood. I mean, why not give them a weapon that could maim and cause hideous bruising?

Blocks of differing shapes. A sorting cube, corresponding shaped holes within, allowing the lil ones to find the correct hole to place the block in.  It's as if we old fogeys are saying, "Good luck figuring things out there Junior, life's a bitch, get used to it." Sorry. Kinda.

He was a "Let's go Brandon", I blocked him.  He was a Trumpster, I blocked him.

"Every block of stone has a statue inside and it's up to the sculptor to discover it."  Michelangelo

You're a ginger, you really should use some sunblock in Mehico.

Boss, I'm gonna be late to that 8am meeting.  Nasty wreck blocking I-435 Southbound.

Pre Alexa/GPS.  "Althena, how do I get to Scooter's place?" "Go about 4 blocks up, turn left after Schmidt's barn... you'll see the horses in the field a couple blocks down on the right, just past the silo is the turn in to Scooter's."

Say something like that again to my girlfriend, I'll knock your block off.

Blocked up?  Call Roto Rooter, that's the name and away go troubles down the drain, Roto Rooter.

Ask Henry, he's been around the block a time or twelve, ain't his first rodeo.

Bandcamp, dinosaur days. HS football.  New kid moved in, HUGE, quiet, seemingly passive dude.  Put him at tight end.  Went out for a pass, guy guarding him intercepted.  We're in the film room on Monday.  New, big kid, once guy guarding him intercepted, ran stride for stride, right beside him, for what seemed like forty yards without an attempt to tackle him. Coach finally hollered "HELL (new, big dude) WHY DIDN'T YOU THROW A BLOCK FOR HIM TOO?"

City block. Stumbling block. Cylinder block. Butcher's block. Salt block. New Kids on the Block. Road block. Blockbuster.  Auction block. Dan Blocker. Cell block. 

Reddit... which is gaining in credibility on Wiki, Snopes, The Washington Post (HA!).. asks "What's something you should block out of your life without a second thought?"

Among the replies...... My MIL...  Social media and toxic people..  Haters... Immorality.. Her.. Meth..  Anal (hey, I don't write 'em, I simply record 'em)...  Rock lobster..  Sugar.. Junk food.. Carbs.. Phone calls.. 

Today....... the total solar eclipse will sweep across North America from Mehico.. thru 15 States.. and up thru Canada..  those inside the path of totality, the moon will completely cover the sun, darkening the sky.  Every US State will experience at least a partial eclipse today.

Total dark may happen for up to 7.5 minutes. Cows may mosey into the barn.  Flamingoes may huddle in fear.  The giant, slow-motion Galápagos tortoise may even get frisky and mate.  Otis may turn around, walk past Andy and Barn, lock himself back up. Motel 6 will turn the light on, then scratch their head later. Married men may even experience a twitch.

Temps can drop 5 to 20 degrees, bring a jacket.  Radio waves can get scrambled.  Awe and wonder happens in many...  and..  Weird feelings can set in too (as in, same ole same ole eh?)

No glasses? Try the Dollar (and a quarter) Store..  or, QuikTrip is having a special, get a cup of coffee (any size) for 49 cents when you purchase a pair of solar glasses for $17.99.

In ancient China, solar eclipses were regarded as heavenly signs that foretell the future of the emperor, thus, predicting of high importance to the state.  Over four millennia ago, legend has it that two astrologers, Hsi and Ho, were executed for failing to predict a solar eclipse.  (Goodbye, Ho, me gotta go, me oh, my oh, you too Hsi.)

On a personal note (Good Gosh Gerty Victor, NO!)  sorry, kinda.. the 2017 eclipse coincided with the last time I was kicked to the curb. Happy to report, I can see clearly now the rain is gone, I can see all obstacles in my way, Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind.

It's gonna be a bright (bright)
Bright (bright) sunshiny day (Except for that one part.)

Love, Victurd

PS, if you happen to be reading this on TUESDAY, the day AFTER the eclipse... and, you used your glasses from 2017 yesterday, uh oh. They only last like three years or so before they deteriorate.