Wild  Bunch Commentaries I
Wild  Bunch Commentaries II

Wild  Bunch Commentaries III
Thayer Pix

Wild Bunch Commentaries II

Monday, October 16, 2017

I came up with another one of those strange words that just pops into your head.

Oldliness! (
Old-lee-ness) When one stops hoppin' and-a boppin' and tearin' it up!

Oldliness is a new state of mind that comes with age ... mostly retirement. A person has reached oldliness when fishing, hunting or golf become less sport and more interesting ways to while away the hours when work is no longer necessary.

It's the time in a person's life when it doesn't matter that the sink has a lotta dishes in it. You've got all the time in the world to do the dishes - and there is time to decide whether to do them manually, one-a-time or stuff 'em in the dishwasher and pull the trigger! It's pretty much the same with vacuuming and dusting, mowing the lawn, washing the car, planting those bulbs in the garden or sweeping the porch. About the only thing that won't wait is cleaning out the cat-box!

Oldliness happens when you're content to sit in your rocker without the TV going, sorta doin' nothin' just for the heck of it. It's the same thing that happens when you sit out on the porch (swept or not), just watchin' the world go by.

Oldliness is realizing that you don't have to keep a schedule. You don't need that alarm clock to wake you up anymore - heck, you already wake up at six o'clock every morning anyway! And any day you please, you can roll over and sleep in! Speaking of sleep ... nap-time is not by the clock, either. If you'd like a nap, you get to choose - will it be a snooze in the rocker or flop down on the bed or the couch? One word: Ahhhhhh ...

Only problem with oldliness is some people don't get to experience it. There are those poor souls who, due to infirmity or unfortunate circumstances, can't stop and smell the roses. Oldliness is a state of mind that
There, but for the grace of God, go I ... and along with it comes thankfulness and grace.

As old age comes creepin' up on us, we must all strive to be worthy of the gift of oldliness, and bask in it for as long as it lasts ... being ever mindful that the grim reaper can bring that happiness to a halt in a matter of seconds. But then, even in death, we can fool the reaper with the bliss that comes to those who believe in the hereafter, accept a life's wages of the
Corn of nourishment, the Wine of refreshment, and the Oil of joy (peace, harmony, and strength), and can look forward to the love of God, eternal, in the Heavens.

Improvise - Adapt - Overcome. Semper Fi.

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Monday, October 9, 2017


I don't remember my having a wild imagination when I was little ... only once. That was in the early '40s in the back yard of our home in Porterville, California ...
We take it up there from page 10 in my 2014 book
Caca Pasa:

The Hand in the Door

During World War II, the Navy was good to its commissioned officers and their families. My dad was given a 90 day TDY (temporary duty) for training at the VA Hospital in South Tucson, Arizona. Large with child, yet undaunted, mom drove from California to the Old Pueblo in the summer heat. Brother Billy was born at St. Mary's Hospital in Tucson in August of 1943, midway through the TDY. A few weeks later Mama, baby Billy and I returned to Porterville, where we had lived since February of 1941 - and daddy went to sea.

After Billy turned one (I was a little over three at the time) he was in the back yard in one of those cage thingies moms keep their little ones in to help them stay out of trouble. The play-pen - yeah, that's it - was on the porch, elevated a few steps above the yard. As I recall, I was allowed out to play with my toys on the grass in the sun. Our mommy was inside doing mommy things and we were happy little campers playing outside in the fresh central California air.

The back yard was surrounded by a six-foot wooden board fence, worn by the seasons to a rustic tan. At the right rear of the yard was an equally worn garage with a driveway running along behind the fence from the left. There was a door into the garage about two feet right of where the fence abutted the structure. It, too, was rustic and had what I recall was about three-quarters of an inch of space between the top of the door and the building.

Out of my peripheral vision I saw movement near the door in the garage. I turned and stared as four fingers made their way through the crack above the door. The hand felt around, back and forth across the crack, as if looking for a way into the yard. My dad wasn't home, so it wasn't him playing a joke on us. I was scared and I screamed for my mommy! I kept screaming and finally she came out of the back door. It seemed like an eternity, but there she was, looking concerned. Billy started crying and I ran to my mom and clung to her skirt, hiding. She asked what was wrong and I said there was a hand in the door to the garage.

She glanced toward the back of the yard and asked, "What hand, honey?"

I whispered, "The one on top of the door."

She looked and saw nothing. Mommy said, "Well, I don't see any hand, baby. It must be your imagination." She turned and went back into the house, leaving Billy and me again alone on the porch. I stayed close by the play-pen, guarding my little brother Billy.

The incident scared the dickins out of me, yet that scary set of fingers never returned. Be that as it may, the hand in the door crack episode has stayed with me for a lifetime!

Now, in the later years of my life, I like to use my imagination to help come up with these twice-weekly stories. I like to try getting inside people's heads, imagining what they were thinking when some of today's Fake News was created. I can tell you that's a trip, troops!

Improvise - Adapt - Overcome. Semper Fi.

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From my book
¿Quién Sabe?


So far, we've covered four stories about our human senses - hearing, seeing, smelling and tasting. That leaves one more: Feeling or touch.

Feeling can be broken into two parts - that which one feels with the heart, gut, or mind ... and that which one feels with one's body, skin, muscles or bones.

First, let's deal with the body. It's unlikely that you recall the difference between the comfort of your mother's womb and the cold, bright, loud delivery room. Those had to be some kinda scarey feelings! But, I can remember the touch of my mama's lips on the nape of my neck when I was little. Can you? Remember getting the bottom of your little feet tickled? How 'bout the first time you stubbed your toe? Wow!

How many of us remember when mom said, "Don't touch that burner - it will hurt you." How many of us just HAD to put our little fingers on that burner? Remember the feeling? Yowww! It hurt! It burnt! And it broke your mama's heart. Maybe those were some of your first feelings. (Well, the ones you can remember, anyway.)

Three things: I stepped on a board with a rusty nail in it. That hurt. Squeezed the pucture wound to make it bleed. That hurt, too. Went to the doctor, who checked it out, treated it, put a band-aid on it and gave me a Tetanus Shot. Ouch! And, that Tetanus Shot ached for what seemed like a week. You've probably been there and done that ...

I have three scars on me from lacerations. One on my left arm from playing with a razor-blade, one on my right arm from playing with an axe, and one on my left shin, just above the ancle, from tripping over barbed wire. None was as gruesome as it may sound! I recall that none of them hurt as much as cutting one's finger with a kitchen knife. Instead, each of the lacerations was clean and just stung - yes, stung like an insect bite. Just lucky, I guess.

Next, let's work on the other feelings - hearbreak, fear, panic, loathing, joy, love, ecstacy, gut feelings and premonitions.

- usually involves loss ... you and your lover break up, your pet dies, or you loose a family member to age and infirmity. Maybe you witness a car or airplane crash where nobody survives. Heartbreaking. The crashes or pending disasters like that create fear in everyone. Fear is what makes people want to turn away or run.

Many people go into full-out
panic mode when disaster hits. Panic usually results when it seems there is no way out of a situation. It creates a kind of paralysis of both mind and body.

One of the worst human feelings is
loathing. This is hatred so deep that a person could actually fly into a rage and actually take the life of another living thing.

Just the opposite is
joy! I call it abject happiness - glee, if you will. It's the feeling that something has happened or is happening that makes you feel all warm and giggly and wonderful all over.

is such a special feeling that poets have written volumes on it and have scarcely stratched the surface. I guess love is a feeling of attachment, or of belonging or of preference. I love my wife and family. And I love chocolate-mint ice-cream!

ecstacy is an order of magnitude greater than joy! Ecstacy is the feeling of being completely overcome with joy and happiness.

All of us have had
gut feelings before. Gut feelings are almost like premonitions, but not quite as strange. Your car has almost bald tires and you have to drive across town some six or eight miles. You have this gut feeling that you're gonna have a flat before you get home. Different is the premonition that you're gonna have a flat just before you get to your destination across town, and sure enough - as you're pulling into that parking lot - BAM! Your gut feeling was telling you that it might be a good idea to get new tires on the way across town. The premonition was a view into the future that predicted the outcome. Feelings set us humans apart from each other and from the animals. I wonder what kind of feelings nature's creatures experience. Your pets, I'm pretty sure, experience love and happiness and fear and trepedation. But what about that little Praying Mantis lurking out there on the porch? And what about that fly he's stalking? I'd rather not go there either!

And then there was
Feelings , Morris Albert's monster hit from 2006 that was nominated for Grammy Award Song of the Year. Copy this to your browser:  Then, click and enjoy!

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