Conversations......... Did you ever have to make up your mind?

Did you ever have to make up your mind?
And pick up on one and leave the other behind?
It's not often easy and not often kind
Did you ever have to make up your mind?

Heads, tails.  

You can't do that!   Why not?

Did you ever have to finally decide?
And say yes, to one and let the other one ride?
There's so many changes and tears you must hide
Did you ever have to finally decide?

I've noticed......... (OH JOY, here we go!)....

Bite me, I decided to say/write that!  I've noticed, outta ALL the forms of communication - all the elements involved...  he, she, me, him, those over there, the fleeting "here, lemme hold the door forya"... texts... phone calls... the one seated on the barstool to the left, and don't forget the one on the other side........

MOST..........  THE MOST conversations one has is with themselves.

Sometimes there's one with big blue eyes, cute as a bunny
With hair down to here, and plenty of money
And just when you think she's that one in the world
Your heart gets stolen by some mousy little girl

Oh sure, there's that.  But for most, that's remnants of yesteryear.... Homecoming dance... sock hop at the JC Hall........  the mixer in College...  Real life stuff after the 'come on and take a free ride' of living at home, semi (OK, mostly) dependent upon parents... "Uh oh, now whatinthehell do I do, which way do I go"... in relation to a relationship - but too......

That ain't what this is about.

And then you know you'd better make up your mind
And pick up on one and leave the other behind
It's not often easy and not often kind
Did you ever have to make up your mind?

This is about comfort.  Sure, little things like the buttons to adjust your driver's seat... the up/down of the steering wheel - and the Goldilocks of "juuuuusssttt right".......

I'm talkin' morals.  Decisions on BIG stuff... uh huh, oh sure, everyday stuff ("Have it your way, have it your way at Burger King..   Putt putt... to the Pizza Hut... You deserve a break today.. so get up and get away."....

Sometimes you really dig a girl the moment you kiss her
And then you get distracted by her older sister
When in walks her father and takes you in line
And says, "Better go on home, son, and make up your mind"

Well that ain't the kinda moral dilemma I was referring to, but, it is just that.

Any........ everything.

I was..... tossin and turnin'... I couldn't sleep at all last night (dooo doo doo doo)... Cause i was tossin' and turnin', tossin' and turnin' all night.

Then you bet you'd better finally decide
And say yes to one and let the other one ride
There's so many changes and tears you must hide
Did you ever have to finally decide?

However many years left.  The hell now, next?  I ain't never done (this)..  should I?  I've always wanted to do (this).. Can I afford it? Is my health good enough?  Will they laugh at me (Hark, if you believe that one then I ain't never deprecated onya enough, as in, I don't give a rats ass what most think.)

And therein may be the bottom line.  After one wonderful nuclear family... two, count em, two marriages... two, count 'em, two 'living in sin's.. (scroll to 'Hark').. 

I think.......... the ONLY person we ever really really know, trust, is ourself.  AND, sometimes, doubt creeps in.  Not always, and maybe not a bad thing.

Victor, you've said a lot without really saying a lot.

Eh, whatever.  Lemme discuss what you just said with my confidante... 

Me. Muah.  Henry Gibson.  BR549.  Alfred E. Newman.  Victor Kendal Schultze.  Victurd.

THIS GOES AGAINST ALL OF THE ABOVE.. 'cause I just looked up the saying comfort in one's own skin........ and AI (ugh).. of all people, whoeverinthehell they are, wrote:

"Comfort in one's own skin" means feeling confident and accepting of oneself, embracing your unique qualities without needing to change to fit societal expectations, essentially meaning you are happy and at ease with who you are as a person, flaws and all. "

Tune in tomorrow...... Damnit Victurd, since you got ridda wi-fi, you DON'T WRITE every day, whatdda ya mean tomorrow?

Tomorrow, or maybe a week from Tuesday, we just might plagiarize Art and Paul's Dangling Conversation.

And how the room is softly faded
And I only kiss your shadow, I cannot feel your hand
You're a stranger now unto me

Lost in the dangling conversation
And the superficial sighs
In the borders of our lives

Victor....... you're really weird............

Lemme think on it........... baby baby lemme think on it, I'll give you an answer in the morning... or... wheneverinthehell I write again.

Decorations by AI......  Verse by BR549... (and Henry)

Close by......... Paul Harvey............. Good Day.

Love, Victurd

If you grow it, they will land...

Ahm Victor?  Yeah? You are mostly confused.

Well hells bells, you must be a Checkenginlight virgin blog reader, I'm always confused.

It's "If you build it they will come".  Talking about "Baseball Ray" James Earl Jones, Costner, Shoeless Joe, (Dr) Moonlight Graham.... they all pop out of a cornfield.

John Kinsella will ask, "Is this Heaven?", Ray Kinsella replies "No, it's Iowa."

Blog reader you do have great recall of that movie, but nope, this is about the cornfield that help saved the day, making sure Kareem, Jerry West, Magic, Shaq, Kobe, Coach Chicken Wing Phil Jackson ever happened.

Xplain Lucy...

Sure!  Sunday, January 17, 1960 the Minneapolis Lakers were soundly defeated by the St. Louis Hawks.  The team piled on their DC3 aircraft for the jaunt from STL back home to MSP.

Ruh roh. Not long after takeoff, the plane lost electrical power, the pilots were flying blind - they tried looking everywhere for a place to land.  

No instruments, no radar, virtially no vision, and oh yeah, it was snowing like crazy. The pilots descended low enough to try to see if any place was suitable to put that big boy down.

The noise of the engines had residents of Carroll, Iowa turning porch lights on, some even taking their kids to the basement... the pilots swerved around a water tower, spotted a cornfield (I ain't making this up) that had not been harvested yet due to soggy Fall weather - and they safely did put that bad boy down.

Carroll did not have any ambulances, so the town folk arranged to have a couple of hearses taken to the crash site.

It would not be farfetched for one of the tall dudes on the plane to pinch himself, then ask, "Uh oh, Is this Heaven?"  No, it's Iowa.

There were no injuries. The townsfolk opened the hotel, arranged for the switchboard to open, allowing the players, pilots, team personnel to call home to announce their safety.

The players were later bused back home, the plane was repaired and farmers bulldozed the field, and three days later the plane was flown safely back to MSP. Whew.

The next year would find the Lakers, one of 8 then NBA teams, packing up a moving to LA, paving the way for LeBron, little Bronny ('de plane') and decades of championships there.

 

I was gonna write more but feel we're all suffering from postprandial somnolence (eating too damn much) so I figured a nap best for us all.

Today is the second busiest air travel day of the year.  How many flights Victurd?  More than 45,000, but safety measures are so advanced today, I wouldn't be concerned....unless... you live in Iowa... by a cornfield...

Paul Harvey (and Victurd),

Good day

Leftovers.......

Of course, today, turkey comes to mind.  So we don't lose any buddies, I found this:

If your turkey has been properly handled, you can refrigerate and eat it for up to four days. If you are planning to freeze it, it's best to freeze it within one day of cooking for optimal texture and taste. However, leftover turkey can be frozen after three days and it will be fine.

Really, of course, leftover is about so much more in life.  A class reunion is an example, sadly, but too, a tug on the shoulder reminder if we're here, we're lucky. Not everyone is afforded living a long life.

Forty some tree rings ago, I worked for Eastern Airlines.  Victor, remember, people RUN AWAY when you tell stories of your life.  Well, Del Shannon, you just go ahead and Runaway, my little Runaway a run run run run runaway.  I don't mean that meanly, I just mean, if you'd rather go have a turkey samwhich, I ain't gonna get mad.

Eastern Airlines, Kansas City, 40 tree rings (or, years, your call) ago.  Eastern here had been a one horse kinda thing.  Several flights a day, all, feeding major hub cities.  Changed. Hub experiment here, boo koo hired, nonstops virtually everywhere.

Softball.  Eastern had a softball team during the one horse era.  Decent, like all the other teams.  Boo koo hired, a tryout.  Young pups (new hires) not really given a chance - roster stayed 'one horse' similar, soooooooooooooooo.

A new Eastern Airlines team to be formed.... The Leftovers.  You can probably save yourself from ordering the paperback, kinda like a Hallmark movie on train tracks to an obvious destination - yes, The Leftovers kicked the butt of the One Horse Eastern team leaving nuttin' leftover 'cept the tears.

Holidays remind.  Big ole table, the empty chairs next to us leftover.  All the years we enjoyed, but, did we really pay great, great attention to all?  It's not until we a leftover - we grasp that feel of "dadgumit, I REALLY wish I'da paid greater attention... OH what I'd give to go back.":

Similar, but different, when families split.  Not everyone has experienced - good for you.  Those that have - things change.  The chairs formally occupied by loved ones, albeit inlaw loved ones - now sit empty even though we most all are very much alive.  No, it will never be the same, but, at least to me, love never stops.  Like much, all that's left are, leftover memories and, the love never lessens.

What's that show......... the "like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives."  Much, most - fleeting - that is why (Run Forest, Victurd sermon #9,862 upcoming here)..  Bite me... that is why we much 'record with our eyeballs' as much as we can.  And.............

It's also why, Victor, you can't walk around like a sourpuss, OR, write like life is a pile of yuck, because, IT AIN'T. It's a thing of beauty - in spite of all that sand that has passed by.

I lay in bed most nights and the same ole leftovers of the day help make me soon study my eyelids.  It/they, usually involve children, their happiness, go-get-em-ness of everything...  smiles, any ole age..   fun that folks have had thru the day...  interdealings with dear friends and loved ones...  the beauty of nature......  and pets.  Sure, there's more, but, at a quick glance - these thoughts are leftover.

Golden years.  Leftovers.  The fridge.  Smiles, happiness, touch, hugs... much.

Enjoy your lefltover(s)....... I planta.

Love, Victurd

You just did this last year.....

Did what?

A feeble attempt at humor in recounting Thanksgiving today and yesterday.

Sue me, it's cool.

The first one........

"The first Thanksgiving was celebrated in 1621 as a harvest festival. It included 50 Pilgrims, 90 Wampanoag Indians, and lasted three days. Historians believe that only five women were present."

Whothehell cooked?  Good question.  Ripley, believe it, they didn't even have turkey, nope, records show ducks, geese and swans...

The NFL is, of course, a big part of the T-Day tradition, beginning in 1920.  Did Jerry Jones own the Cowboys then?  Nope, he was still a gleam.  They didn't play in the first one, but, it's primarily, all these years, included the Detroit Lions. The Cowboys came along around 1966 a year after their inception.

Someone said something about Franksgiving....... the heck is that?  Well... in 1939 and 1940, President Franklin Roosevelt (thus, Franksgiving) wanted to move Turkey day up to the 2nd week in November to stir the economy, allow more time for Christmas shopping.  Half the States went along, half protested.  (The more things change the more they stay the same, eh?)  WWII happened, interrupted the football and Franksgiving - tradition returned, 4th Thursday, in 1945 after the War.

Our friends in Buffalo, NY hosted the first Turkey Trot in 1890 with six runners participating, running 5 miles on dirt roads.

The day after Thanksgiving is traditionally THE biggest day for plumbers in the United States.  Clogs from turkey grease, vegetable skins, rice, strained pipes, a lotta flushes... yada...  suffice to say, Turkey Trots aplenty.

Another Ripley says APPLE PIE is the most popular, NOT pumpkin pie.  I don't care what they say, fetch me a piece of both pecan and pumpkin, then, if room left over, mebbe apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream.

Female turkeys don't gobble.  I call BS.  MISOGYNIST!  AM NOT!

Them damn political 'Franklin's, this time Benjamin, keep sticking their head in there.  Ben wanted the Turkey to replace the Bald Eagle as the representative of our Country. Obviously, never happened.

TODAY, they say, is THE busiest travel day of the year, then, all the fams going home Sunday make that day the SECOND busies day.  Schwabby and Terry, careful with all that Colorado snow - and anyone else in harm's way.....

LIONS AND TIGERS AND BEARS OH MY!  Well, not exactly but close.  Another rich tradition, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade, initially borrowed animals from The Central Park Zoo (monkeys, bears, camels and elephants) prior to the modern day big ole character balloons of today.

The song, originally intended to the be Thanksgiving Day song was, 
"One horse open sleigh"... well, that didn't last long, becoming popular around Christmas, thus, was changed to Jingle Bells, the rest is history!

What's your T-Day history?  Mine?  Jeff City, a kajillion wonderful family members.  Much, virtually everything, has changed.  You?  Sadly we've all faced loss... some divorce... geographic arrangements changed, many families flip flop "her side for T-Day, his for Christmas, then just the opposite next year."

We've already addressed 'Brown Friday' (the day after, busy busy busy for plumbers) but too, it's also known as Black Friday, sale, sale, sale, the start of the Christmas shopping cycle. (Also, the 'I don't feel bad putting up Christmas decorations on this day" day,)

I'd never heard of Drinksgiving, but, understand it's the Wednesday before Thanksgiving - what with folks back in town going out and about.  It's Uber popular and, Uber has even been offering free rides home the last few years.

Giving thanks, ain't that what this should all be about?  I reckon.  I remind myself daily, "don't fret for what ya ain't got, be thankful for whatya do."  I stumble, mebbe you do upon occasion too.  It's ok.  We be human.

We each have a long, wonderful list of things we're thankful for.  I won't bore you with mine, but please know, I am way thankful for your eyeballs here.

May you and yours have a joyous Thanksgiving!

Love, Victor

SIT........... STAY.......... SPEAK!

Victor to the library.  Long, kinda, story.  No Wi Fi at home now..

SIT (Victurd)........  STAY (Victurd)...    BLOG!  (Victurd)

It just ain't that easy.  This is kinda like a chap working at KeyPharmacy (Makers of No-Doz) going to work and he ain't got any idea about chemisty, and how to make No-Doz, let alone barely be able to spell it.

My goal here, No-Doz (ie, you, No-Doz).  Hard to be creative whenya ain't creative.  Or, not in the mood..."Sorry Hazel, not tonight."

Ha.  I'm always in the mood.  Calm down, always in the mood to blog it's just sometimes the brain is on E.

Pavlov.  Yes, he, the Ruskie who introduced us to "conditional reflex."  Mr. Pavlov noticed his hound pooches would salivate in the presence of the technician who normally fed them, rather than simply salivating in the presence of the food.  If he used a buzzer or metronome was sounded before the food was given, presto, once again, association and the dog would salivate.

SIT Victurd.  STAY Victurd.  BUZZER/METRONOME Victurd - WRITE DAMNIT!

Sorry, hard sometimes.

Surely, ole Pav had some older dogs, they couldn't have been all pups.  Wouldn't it reason there was one or ten where "you can't teach an old dog new tricks"?  Or mebbe even just his share of M-/C- student doggies.  Wonder if one'a the pooches would blame his own failure on his brother eating his homework?

You there.  You long term marrieds.  I would gather, if you've made it longterm, duties are shared, house cleanup is jointly, or mebbe alternating weeks on your non laundry week mebbe.  My father, funny ha ha, usedta empty his coffee cup... teasingly point his index finger at it like a pistol and bend his thumb back and forth, indicating, "Velma, run get me s'more coffee."  Most days he'd get his own, but, if she was up, he'd do this and he always thought he was funny ha ha.  Mebbe he/that was, I dunno.  He wasn't a piggy, he loved my mom mucho. Mom would smile, consent, fill his cup up.

Buddy o' mine, two little girls, mebbe 8 and 12, VERY active, fiesty... bordering 'not listening', not behaving.  Enrolled 'em in Karate class.  A few weeks later, he was in the garage, along with his snotnoses.... he asked one of 'em to bring him the hammer.. "YES SIR", and she ran, got hammer.  Then, asked the other one to bring him the screwdriver, "YES SIR"...  His brain thought "HUH?  WOW!  WHATEVER THESE DAMN CLASSES COST ME, WORTH IT!"

Conditional reflex.  I walk in a big store... I gotta pee.  Never fails. 

I walk into joint I walk into with prolly all too much frequency... I've got Pav'ed bassackwards.  I salivate, they run, fetch me my beer.

Hand touches hot surface, immediate withdrawal.  SIT.  HAND.  YEOUCH. REMOVE.

LOUD NOISE, JUMP!

SHOUT! Part 1 and 2 by the Isley Brothers............(Salivate, kinda) GIT UP AND DANCE!

Bouncing toddler has unknown substance in mouth, seen by parent or granny, RUN... Immediately. Conditioned reflex.

Airplane trip, white knuckles, conditional reflex.

Frank Loessser. WHO? WHOTHEHELLISTHAT?  He wrote, sang "Baby it's cold outside" with his wife Lynn Garland.  It was kinda sorta a conditioned reflex thing where, for every "nuh uh, can't" she would eschew his advance, he had a Pavlov conditional reflex answer ("uh huh, can").... you know, like:

I really can't stay
Baby, it's cold outside
I've got to go away
Baby, it's cold outside
This evening has been
Hoping that you'd drop in
So, very nice
I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice

AND SO ON............ AN SO ON... and finito with:

There's bound to be talk tomorrow
Think of my life-long sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied
If you got pneumonia and died
I really can't stay
Get over that hold out
Baby, it's cold
Baby, it's cold outside

Okay, fine, just another drink
That took a lot of convincing

Just like my momma consenting, laughing, giving into my father's awkward "gimme more coffee" pistol move, Lynn stayed and had one more drink.......  We'll never know the Paul Harvey to that story.

OK, I've written for 43 minutes.  I hope ya ain't asleep. NO-DOZ.

I'd better go before someone comes across thinking I'm the studious sort here.  I've a reputation to uphold. Ha.  On my way home is my 2nd favorite joint for lasagna.. I just might drive by, salivate, pull in.

That's A to B.

B to C would be my favorite hole-in-the-wall, OK, The Landing.  A mostly enclosed patio (two baby doors open to legally bypass local no smoking laws.)..   I will salivate, then, them cute little doggies will fetch me a beer.  Or two. Miller Lite, specifically.  

Then, get along home little doggie.

I love you.

Thank you for your eyeballs, not dozing off.

Happy Thanksgiving.  Salivate all ya want, I planta.  If you salivate on your pillow, just flip it over.

Love, Victurd

(Victurd did it, in the library, with the candlestick)

Let me tellya 'bout the birds and the bees..........

Birds have peckers, bees have stingers.  I'm still highly confused.

Women, steadfastly, always announce when they go pee.

Why?

Men, as a rule, pee more frequently.

Until 2018, women could not drive in Saudia Arabia.

Women can't drive in the US.  MISOGYNIST!  Nope, just personal observation.

During exercise women's primary fuel is fat, while men's is carbs.  I just Google 'em folks, I don't make em up.

Men typically have 25% thicker skin.

Women typically carry their body fat in their hips and thighs, men, in their stomachs. Women might argue there is a good amount of fat in a man's brain me thinks.

There are 67.85 million married men in the US, 68.45 women. For further clarification, please consult your Funk and Wagnall.

42.69 million women have never married.  47.85 million men never walked down the aisle.  Chickens.

Women generally control 51% of the stock, say so, in a household.  Relax, my opine. On average, women make 84% of what men do.  What's wrong with this picture? 

Women have a better sense of smell and taste.  Men generally smell worse.

Despite all the research about gender differences in listening, little to no evidence suggests that members of one gender are better listeners than the other.

Amending this blog (just like you can update Wiki any dayum time ya want), after that last sentence, upon further review, women do tend to use their middle fingers moreso than men.

The below, plagiarized.  HEY, I don't get paid here, bug off!

A store that sells new husbands has opened in Melbourne , where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates:
You may visit this store ONLY ONCE! There are six floors and the value of the products increase as the shopper ascends the flights. The shopper may choose any item from a particular floor, or may choose to go up to the next floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building!
So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband.
On the first floor the sign on the door reads:
Floor 1 - These men Have Jobs
She is intrigued, but continues to the second floor, where the sign reads:
Floor 2 - These men Have Jobs and Love Kids.
'That's nice,' she thinks, 'but I want more.'
So she continues upward. The third floor sign reads:
Floor 3 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, and are Extremely Good Looking.
'Wow,' she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.
She goes to the fourth floor and the sign reads:
Floor 4 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Good Looking and Help With Housework. 'Oh, mercy me!' she exclaims, 'I can hardly stand it!'
Still, she goes to the fifth floor and the sign reads:
Floor 5 - These men Have Jobs, Love Kids, are Drop-dead Gorgeous, Help with Housework, and Have a Strong Romantic Streak.
She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor , where the sign reads:
Floor 6 - You are visitor 31,456,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please. Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store.
PLEASE NOTE:
To avoid gender bias charges, the store's owner opened a New Wives store just across the street.
The first floor has wives that love sex.
The second floor has wives that love sex and have money and like beer
The third, fourth, fifth & sixth floors have never been visited.

Things to do or say to keep a woman happy:

Take interest in her hobbies.  Give her your attention and tease her.  Give her kisses.  Ask her questions.  Don't take life too seriously.  Show up for her. Do date night.  Communicate like a boss.  Take care of your appearance.  Show her that you're listening.

Things to do or say to keep a man happy:

Buy 30 packs weekly at The Piggly.  Wear yoga pants.  Say "OK, lets'."

Victor, you're a pig.  I recently overheard, "Women are JUST AS BIGGA PIGS as men."

Oink.

By Henry, and Henrietta Gibson

Love, Victurd

Thoughts.......

As in, Victurd......."who cares?"

Chip chip cheerio, you jolly right there mate.  That said, I done pushed the 'new blog' button, ha, you're not gonna make it....... 

Thought numero uno, dayum it's cold (33).  I know I know, you live in Houston/47,  San Diego/49, Joplin, MO/38 (Brrr too), Danville, IL/31 Brr, Durango, CO/18 (Brrr, double brrr)... We gots wind.  Bone chilling wind.

Are you ready? asks Pacific Gas and Electric....... Not no's, but hells no's.  I ain't ready for nonea them add-on, arm and a leg utilities, wearing more clothing,freezing until my Show Me State car has had enough time to Show Me it's sufficiently warmed up.

Blessed, Victor.  Life is blessed.  Don't go chasing waterfalls.......no, that ain't it.  Don't go worrying about what ya don't got, be thankful for what ya do.  Right, as in, shrinkage, purple tipped toes and fingers, exhales that make me look like I'm vaping....  BRRR.  You're correct, I'm THANKFUL!   I canardly wait for iced windows. snowshoveling a path to the car, YIPPEE!

Coffee. I gots coffee.  Furnace. Yum. Car heater, yum.  Windows that go up and down when they wanna. No?  Yes.  Don't. Get. Me. Wrong. I LOVE LOVE LOVE My car, it's just, sometimes, a tad persnickety. Like this morning.  Hello window. Don't be 'down', it'll be a good day. Oh, I see. You're down and the button won't make you go up. Oh well.  Now I'll be almost as cold as Durango, not quite, but almost.

Mirth. Mirth makes me happy. 

Healthy friends and family members make me happy.  Life don't come with no X-Ray vision, we just never know what the innards of some are fighting today.  Smiles are like wrapping paper, they cover up what's under.

How can one not think about this timea year and not be glutton?  Yum, yum, 'smore yum.   YES, I WILL have a piece of pumpkin pie AND a piece of pecan pie, gotta problem with that, big enough plate for that? One fork will work, thanks.   Turkey, turkey and s'more turkey.  I likes.

Mems.  This timea year conjures mems of once was.

I thought this morning about a blog about specific people I miss - but, that's like huge for me, but, not so much, for you.  That said - tis the timea year we eyeball yesterday, and sure, up pops those, no longer here, that comprised such an important time, place in our lives - this specific time of year.  Forever touched we are.  Not good they are gone, wonderful (and lucky) we are/were to have had them there for, with us.

Thank you for all the things in life that go like clockwork that we take for granted.  Truly.

Thank you for every golf ball that stays inbounds.  The ones that don't, I try to look positively at it, like......maybe I'm like the Easter golf Bunny, hiding eggs (colored golf balls) in the woods for other kids (golfers) to find in their hunts.  Yeah. That's it. Put that in your basket.

Positive Victurd, positive.

OK, I actually kinda look forward to Christmas and all that comes with it.  Festive.  For us.  For all, but 'specially the little ones.  Family.  Christmas dinner attendees change just like NCAA sport's teams now with their Transfer portal, NIL junk, gotta have a scorecard - not always, but sometimes.  Family and familiarity start the same. That's a good thought.

Annuder year almost past, where, we go cover roughly half as much ground as we usedta, forget a good portion'a junk from the past, sit, hear stories with friends, family, whilst wearing that "Oh yeah, I remember that" mask.  Still, we collect that cache of new stories in our iCloud brain for later.

Funny the stupid stuff said we remember.  The "I can't believe he/she just said that."  How we're complimented.  Maybe a behavior mildly condemned.  Impactive. We simply never forget stuff like that.  Human psyche. 

Ends.  Burnt ends.  (Frozen ends this timea year).  Yoga pants.  I know, I know, you gots Wranglers for you. Tit. Tat.  Life ends.  Hey, it's a reality.  Reminders hopefully make most days be mirth.

I miss much.  Regret some, sure.  Thankful for VERY much.

You.  I'm thankful for you and I only wish I could read inside your brains like you kinda sorta do mine.  Encrypted you say?  Yeah, I'm hard to figure, for sure. But, I'm me, whatever that means.

Going now... the East side of my face has sufficiently thawed from the driver side window being down as I drove across town.  Happy day, 

Love, Victurd