My Writing, Self-Delusional Façade

Charles!

Video Credit: Shea

This was originally written for just one person, But in my vain vanity fantasy, I decided to ‘Shit-Post’ it here.

(Because I am adrift at sea… And exhibiting my most hated characteristics: self-pity and self-loathing)

These are gonna come off as some really vain, pompous questions, but questions I struggle with every day:

1. Am I ‘Interesting?’

2. Is my writing worth a fuck?

3. Or am I just another asshole?

4. Who calls Himself a ‘Writer?’

(There are many more I beat myself up over, and if you drill down into my archives, you may be happy/unhappy to discover them, but for the purposes of THIS Post, They are Not Germane.)

Not fishing for validation, compliments, nor smoke blown up my vanity ass—Honesty.

Honesty is what I need. All I desire.

If my writing is only self-serving, then I am a failure (as a writer)

Please be honest—Trust me: I can take it—There is no harsher critic of me, than me.

Sometimes I feel lost at sea—And, as a sailor, this is never a good thing.

I keep watching/listening to Bukowski and asking myself these questions.

Take some time with your respond:

I am way past the point of counting upon ‘Instant Gratification.’

Cheers My Good,

Honest Friends,

–Many-Feet Marcom—Wanna-Be Writer

My Humble Tribute To The Highwomen

WONDERFUL!

Sexy, and Perfection!

I only recently discovered these gals via KETR—The Local NPR Radio Station here in Commerce—Run by The University. This is the Program that was playing— “Notably Texan.” My FAVORITE For Obvious Reasons.

“With the lofty mandate to curate the culture of Texas music, Notably Texan host Matt Meinke scours the state’s singers and songwriters, stars or not, and hand-selects the purest cuts of well-marbled entertainment for your daily listening pleasure. The tempo, the style, the instrumentation, the genre – it doesn’t matter. The rules are simple – the songs need to have a Texas connection. Rock, rap, country, reggae, electronica, dub step, house, R&B – If the music helps to build an audio tapestry worthy of the Lone Star State, it’s got a shot on Notably Texan.”

I was on my way back from one of my ‘Booze-Run’ Missions when this song came on the program. I had to pull over to properly focus on it—This is how impressed and captivated and enamored I instantly was…

“There’s a choir singing in a southern accent, a fiddle in the band
There’s a “Hallelujah!” on the lips of every dying man
Mama, don’t you cry when they’re dead and gone
Jesus, he loves his sinners and heaven is a honky tonk”

(I do not know who The Rather Large Black Broad Who Joined The Girls on the Stage is–Trust Me: I looked–But Obviously, She Added added Value–Bravo For HER!)

And Bravo To The Highwomen!

Yeah, I am a ‘Closet Liberal’ And an ‘Out-of-the-Closet-Redneck’— And An Extremely Pro-Feminist–My Love of And For of Women is Very-Well Documented. I Never pull My Punches.

“Go Rocky!”

Yes, I am ‘complicated’–But Y’all knew this already.

Love me, or HATE Me. I really Don’t Give a Shit!

You do YOU.

And Embrace Your Opinions.

But only if You are Sincere.

And HONEST!

I am, if nothing else, HONEST!

I’m as Real as Real Can Get!

What You See, Is Exactly What You Get!

“The Highwomen are the rarest of country supergroups: a quartet who came together at the height of their popularity and creative powers, not when they were settling into their legacy. In that regard, the quartet of Brandi Carlile, Maren Morris, Amanda Shires, and Natalie Hemby differ from their knowing namesake the Highwaymen, a band Willie Nelson, Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, and Kris Kristofferson formed in 1985, just as they started to drift down the charts. When the Highwomen appeared in 2019, every member of the quartet was at a peak in her respective roots niche. Singer/songwriter Carlile was fresh off winning three Grammy Awards and Morris was at the vanguard of country-pop, while Shires’ cult was growing thanks to the atmospheric Americana of To the Sunset and Hemby’s reputation as a country songwriter was at a peak, thanks to her contributions to Kacey Musgraves’ Golden Hour and Miranda Lambert’s The Weight of These Wings.”

Article Credit: ALLMUSIC

BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL Beauty

Pulling up the floors and changin’ out the curtains
Some of us are saints and some of us are surgeons
Made in God’s image, just a better version
And breakin’ every Jello mold

And when we love someone, we take ’em to heaven
And if the shoe fits, we’re gonna buy 11
How we get it done, we like to keep ’em guessing
But secretly, we all know.”

I AM STARSTRUCK

FUN FACT: My Best GF, Highschool Sweetheart, once said to me, and I quote:

“Lance, You are so easily Starstruck.”

I had to beg to differ, but she was at least half-right–when I see talent combined with Beauty, I fall victim–it is a pleasant fall and an admitted failing of mine–I relish and truly appreciate people who add value and meaning to my life.

Enriches My So-Called Life

And Just For Reference:

I do hope Y’all Enjoyed Watching/Reading This Post As Much As I Loved Putting It Together.

LET’S JUST CALL IT “A LABOUR OF LOVE,” IF YOU WILL.

Cheers Y’all!

Sexy Goddess Elizabeth: My Last Wife, Chapter One

“Non, je ne regrette rien”

No, I Regret Nothing

I first met her as “Paige” via eHarmony. She taught French at a High School in Springfield, Missouri. I was working and trying to stay alive in Mosul, Iraq, circa 2008.

After about a week or so, we ditched eHarmony and exchanged emails, more photos, and phone numbers. And she confided to me that ‘Paige’ was her middle name and that her first name was ‘Elizabeth.’ I told her that if she didn’t mind, I’d prefer to address her like that. She said, “Bien sûr!” (Of course)

About two weeks later, as Parsons owned me an R&R I broached the idea of her rendezvousing with me in Paris (France, not Texas).

She was all for it, but then confided in me that she did not have the funds for the plane ride.

I laughed.

“Silly Girl!  I will purchase your plane ride and I will pay for everything else—I am Rich!” (She would ‘rectify’ this ‘situation’ a few years later—but I am getting a little ahead of my narrative.)

She could only get one week off from her HS French teacher job and I had two weeks of R&R owed me, so I told her I would spend a week in Dubai and then meet her in Paris.

Good to go.

So I went to Dubai, stayed drunk, and hung out at the pool every day in the Five-Star Hotel where I was staying. (I wanted a tan so as to look my best for her.)

I even brushed up on my Français, hoping to impress her with that in case my awesome tan and hard body did not move her (I had been working out like a mad-man in the weight-room there in Mosul)

I was READY for some Great Sex.

On the short plane ride from Dubai to Paris, I downed a few vodkas (Prepping myself).

Hooked up with her at Orly International Airport and we grabbed a taxi to our hotel.

She demonstrated her command of French, speaking to the taxi driver.

I was properly impressed.

Oh, and yes! She was just as advertised in her photos:

Long blonde hair, six feet tall, and absolutely stunning.

Built like a Brick Shit-House, to use the Texas Vernacular.

She had a soft, very sexy voice, but I knew this already from our many telephone conversations, but live and in color it was even mo’ bettah.

I was already in love.

Pretty sure she was falling for me too (Yeah, I was that confident and vain)

I could not wait to get her into bed.

But she said to me after we had settled into our hotel,

“Can we take this kinda slowly? Maybe go down to the Champs-Élysées and hit a side-walk café, like Café George V. It is one of my favorites. They have awesome Canard à l’orange.”

“Sure, I said. We can do that.” (Over the course of our time in Paris The George V Café became ‘Our Place’ and we went there at least twice a day—sometimes for food, sometimes for coffee, often for vin rouge. (Red Wine)

Our hotel was within walking distance of the Champs-Élysées so we started walking. (I had picked the hotel for its location and it was very expensive, but I didn’t care. I had a woman to impress.)

As we were walking to the café, she said this, “I thought I smelled alcohol on your breath when you picked me up at Orly.”

“Uh, I had a glass of wine on the plane,” I lied.

Busted!

Anyway, we got to George V Café and spent a wonderful afternoon there, over duck, red wine, conversation, and some building sexual tension. We were very hot for each other. This was obvious.

When it had reached critical mass, I quickly used my French and said to the garçon, “l’addition s’il vous plaît” (Check please)

Then we hastily beat feet back to our hotel and fucked each other’s brains out.

And it was glorious!

But then as we were basking in the warmth of the sexual afterglow, she said something incredibly stupid:

“Lance, I have never been faithful to any man in my life.”

This honest revelation of hers threw me into a tailspin.

(Fidelity was important to me back then, especially when relating to a woman I intended to wed.)

She had sucked the wind right out of my sails.

It was rather devastating, in fact.

And from that day forward, that one concise statement became an albatross around my neck.

I eventually married her anyway.

(Against My Better Judgement)

To Be Continued…

Addendum:

My much admired and respected by me, Great, Good Friend, John Coyote, wrote this recently.

I had to lift it, as it perfectly adds to and fits my narrative

(Link to John: https://johncoyote.wordpress.com/2021/01/28/damn-your-eyes-2/#comment-122267)

Damn those eyes

Light and dark collide when I found you.
You are my black magic woman who make me wish for enchanting nights where you and I.

Are free and wild. Free of locked door and dormant passion. We will become wild in spirit and we will try to consume the night like the wild beast.

My Gypsy woman. Let’s find the sea and share some vodka and  juice. Let’s dance for the midnight moon and the stars. Let’s pray to the sleeping gods.  Pray for them to come alive and join us in the dance of freedom.

Damn your eyes. Those eyes make me forget I’m a prisoner of controlled and useless life.  You make me want to stripped down to nothing. Run nude and denounce my ordinary life and self-made prison. I want to be locked-up in your eyes and your embrace.

You and I have found the sea at Monterey. The Monterey sleeping ghosts come alive for us and we danced the movement of freedom.  You and I. We beckon sacred place where love can be true and we can show real face. Dispersed of fake goals and dreams. I whispered to you. Your eyes, your face, your wild heart make me want to live and die in your embrace.

Tonight we will live and tomorrow?

                              –John Castellenas/Coyote

*************

BREAKING NEWS!

UPDATE!

This is just a ‘Teaser’ for my upcoming Chapter Two On Elizabeth.

I emailed her Chapter One,

(Which if you have come this far, you have already read above)

Not sure how it would ‘fly ‘with her.

I gave it fifty-fifty: Pissed, or Flattered.

Turns out she did not ‘Flame’ me.

But She was gracious and sent this respond. Perhaps She and I could give it another go?

Naw!

Never gonna happen, but is a Pleasant Fiction to Ponder.

I did love her once.

“You write well, and your talents are known by just a fortunate few.You are so full of words, but with me, you don’t need to be. We were more than words.The other day this song came on the radio, and my Lance Anthony came to mind immediately. I trust you remember how I referred to this song- about you, about us.”

–Elizabeth

She attached this song,

(Pasted in a few lines in below)

And so very apropos, given our history.

“Ela, you were never much for words, but you spoke volumes to me in other, better ways.”

I still love you.

I never stopped loving you in fact:

I just could not live with you anymore.

I will send this back at her.

It describes me (and her—and our ‘Relationship’ to a T)

She talking at me, not really verbally.

(Verbosity was MY THING.)

But her message was always clear.

“Well, I’ll be damned; Here Comes Your Ghost Again.”

“Now you’re telling me
You’re not nostalgic
Then give me another word for it
You who are so good with words
And at keeping things vague.”

Video Credit: Dave Bing

Hey Asshole Dave Bing! We do not need the lyrics fucking up this vid! Most of us have ears.

Here is a Teaser Song which will be a Centerpiece of Chapter Two.

(Elizabeth, How I first Saw you–Us–Together–A Wicked Game, but so, oh so… captivating!)

“Ela, I once called you ‘Ethereal’–I meant it when I first said it, and I say it again–Some things I hang on to, and will never let go.

You were My ‘Magical Mystery Tour-de-Force.’

I am playing a very dangerous, potentially deadly–for my heart–game with Elizabeth.

She is the quintessential Game Master–Mistress.

I am good, but not in her league.

Not even close.

She is much more skilled than me.

I may be in over my head.

****

But you know what?

I love The Game, or to quote Omar

From “The Wire”,

“It’s all in the game Bro.”

And it never fails to excite or stimulate

And as an aside, & IMHO,

Christine McVie was/is The Most Underrated Member of The Super-Group

That Calls itself

‘Fleetwood Mac.’

Stevie Stole All The Glory.

Now, Do Not Mistake Me:

I love Stevie Like Cash Money, but…

Christine was/is also

‘Top Shelf’ and Deserves

More Recognition.

Much More Recognition

Most people who write about ‘Fleetwood Mac’ Write about Stevie.
I write about Christine.

Lovely, Wonderful, Talented Christine

BEAUTIFUL

I only drop this one in for Elizabeth.

Of course She was the only one who understood that “The Joke” was always on me.

But instinctively I knew it too, but did not care:

I was ‘in-love–lust.’

Chapter Two Here

All The Leaves Are Brown

I have spent a great portion of my life living in California.

First with my Mom back in the Sixties and then Later (Mid 80’s) When I was a Sailor Stationed in San Diego.

I have always loved Cali (Of Course not as I LOVE Texas, But Love California I did.)

So it is with a Heavy Heart That I Post this Post.

The California That I loved so Much is Dead to me Now.

And So glad I ‘escaped’ before She Tuned to Literal Shite.

I’d like to hang onto my GOOD Memories of California–All the Times Mom and I would go to San Francisco, Santa Cruz,

And of course

Haight-Ashbury

And 39613 Bruning Street

Love You Cass Elliot et al–Wonderful Talent in This Group

What Would You Say Now Joni?

Dearest Joni, Pretty sure California has broken your Heart as it has mine. I love you Joni for this magical Song–and for ALL of your Magical Songs–You are such an important part of my life. And you will always remain, holding a very special place in my heart.

Until Death do us part. I hope I go first. I do not wish to live in a world without you, Joni Mitchell

*****

Moving on–My fawning desire over Joni, for now, sated

(But trust me: It will resurface, and probably much sooner than later)

*******

And this Saddens Me. Me, The Eternal Cock-Eyed Optimist, But Some things Are Perma-Broken and I see no Chance of Fixing Them Anytime soon:

Oops! I Did It Again

Never Really Ever Been A Fan, But This Serves My Purpose Here
Thank You Britney

I’m not that innocent either

On FaceFuk

Transcribed in Below:

*****

“Just a generic observation on Social Media in General and Writing in Particular:

And for Ref: During the Vietnam War, and leading up to his resignation, President Richard Nixon preceded many public comments with the line, “Let me make one thing perfectly clear.”

So, Humour me for a moment, if you will. Let me be perfectly clear before I get too drunk to write this.

I have often said that I mainly write for my own edification.

And This is Paralyzed Fact/Truth.

But what I never say/verbalize enough is how much I appreciate & Respect My Readers.

A writer needs readers to get him to work on the next writing project.

(Simple Yin and Yang—Tits for Tats—Validations)

Not to blow my own horn too much (In spite of my façade and massaged image, I am a humble, shy man)

But here is some bona-fide truth:

(I work really hard at not posting garbage. I respect anyone and everyone who takes the time to read my ‘work.’ I endeavor to post quality content—lots of variety—lots of shit I search out and steal from the Internet—Yet I always credit the Original Poster whenever possible.)

Back to my point: Because I know that our finite time is not a thing to be squandered.

I know I ain’t Shakespeare, but (and trust me on this) I do put a lot of time, thought, and effort into my attempt to enrich your lives, Gentle Readers.

And Thank You Marvelous Much if you visit my Real Blog Page

And if you take some time to drop a dime and ‘comment’—You may have my First born.

(That is a JOKE—Justin Case You do not get my sick sense of humour.)

Visit texantales.com “I trust you will find comfort there.”

(I stole that line From The Wonderful Movie, “The Dresser.”)

Google it.

Not you Johnny—You already know…”

****

THE LIVING END

Happy, Positive, Upbeat Stuff To Lift Your Spirits

“I’m Just Livin’ On Things That Excite Me.”

VID CREDIT: MoonLit Water

Because I am a ‘Cock-eyed Optimist.

And ‘Life is a Cabaret.’

“Let The World Be Your Oyster.”

The proverb first appeared in Shakespeare’s play ‘The Merry Wives of Windsor’ published in 1602. In Act II, a character named Falstaff says: “I will not lend thee a penny,” to which Pistol replied: “Why, then, the world’s mine oyster, Which I with sword will open.”

(But Don’t Use Your Sword: Use Optimism and Patience and Empathy and Love)

Live and Love Your Life.

And Now, Without Further Ado, On With The Rest of The Show!

UNCLE BOB

THE TITLE SAYS IT ALL

THE QUINTESSENTIAL OPTIMISTS
I LOVE YOU JONI
I LOVE YOU TOO TAYLOR

Holiday

Do Yourself a Solid!

TAKE ONE!

Far from the Madding Crowd

In my humble opinion, we should stop with all the political vitriol, take a break—Take a Holiday from all the hate mongering—try to remember to be nice people. Try to Remember we are ALL Americans (and of course, Texans are the BEST Americans—Had to get that in—LOL)
End of Rant. Thank you; Drive Through.

And I really, really, REALLY LOVE YOU MADONNA! (This is Well-Documented)

CAN NEVER HAVE TOO MUCH JONI IN ONE OF MY POSTS

And of course this would not be a ‘Proper’ TT&H Post without Dropping In a Little TEXAS

Lyle & His Large Band (Born in Klein, Texas)

Love Me some Tami Taylor (aka: Connie Britton) For Y’all, all of Y’all
Video Share Credit: Chris Spags. Video Creation Credit: K. Ryan Jones

Texas Wimmens
“SHOOT LOW SIR, I THINK SHE’S RIDIN’ A SHETLAND”
A TEXAN ICON

I hope I lifted Your Spirits a bit (If They needed ‘Lifting’ that is…)

At any rate, I hope I entertained you just a little.

I do appreciate y’all, My Readers (and endeavor to not waste your time)

Very sincerely,

Lance-Many-Feet Marcom

P.S. And just to forestall any concerns about my sanity or my will to survive, I leave you with this: