“Don’t Touch My Bags If You Please, Mister Customs Man”–Arlo Guthrie
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
“Any resemblance to persons living or dead should be plainly apparent to them and those who know them, especially if the author has been kind enough to have provided their real names and in some cases, their phone numbers. All events described herein actually happened, though on occasion the author has taken certain, very small liberties with chronology, because that is his right as an American. Warning: this story will [eventually] have drugs in it [specifically, Pot] read at your own annoyance.”
–Stolen From Various Sources while illegally surfing the internet using a U.S. Government Network and Computer
Arlo Guthrie- Coming Into Los Angeles:
It was the Summer of ’77 and I had just dropped out of college (yet once again). There was an old friend of mine from high school living in Lake Charles, and pretty much on a bet I loaded up my ’68 Chevy Impala and drove to Louisiana to look him up. Of course I had no idea where he lived in Lake Charles or what he was even doing there, but I knew
Kim John and I knew that he would not be difficult to find even in a town of over one-hundred-thousand.
Really all I had to do was to find McNeese State University and ask around. For you see, Kim Jim/John was probably the most charismatic, outgoing, affable guy on Earth and I knew that even if he had only spent one week in Lake Charles, everyone would know him or know of him. He went to
East Texas State in Commerce just long enough to pledge and become a Kappa Alpha.
That was his only driving ambition in life: to become a KA like his big brother and hang out with the Brothers. I despised Greeks and all their ways. (Still today, these are not my favorite people.
Kim James was my best friend, next to Peanut, and for many years before, even though we did not see eye-to-eye on many things and most especially, things Greek.)
It took me all of about 45 minutes to locate him once I arrived. He was living large in a beautiful apartment complex close to the university in the best apartment they had to offer: Two-story with four bedrooms, a large den/living room, three baths, a decent sized kitchen with a breakfast nook, a porch facing the pool—‘Classy” is all I could say when he showed me around.
He had a stereo in every room (All of them ‘Marantz’ because years before I had told him “Marantz makes the best, (and most expensive) audio equipment you can buy”. He apparently never had forgotten that and I was properly impressed. Kim Jim always did his best it seems to impress me. To this day I am not sure why. It was just his way. Actually it was probably because I was the only one who really knew he was a fake and he knew that I knew.
In addition to the large pool, there were two tennis courts, a game room, outdoor dining room, a sauna, and all the ‘beautiful’ people of McNeese lived there, or so it seemed to my small-town eyes.
One of the upstairs rooms had a balcony overlooking the pool and the tennis courts. Wonderful.
Reblogged this on Texan Tales & Hieroglyphics and commented:
Against my better judgement I am re-blogging this. As soon as I click ‘reblog post’, I am gonna get mouse-like and hide my ass.
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I have so many mega thousands of commenters….what is a boy to do?
did read it, dude! 🙂 you’re really too much – which means in French: an interesting personnage(character)… 🙂 btw: happy independence day! 🙂
Here is chapter two
Thank you so much for reading….
There are links to all the chapters (I think) on all the posts.
You’re a funny dude!
Where do I have to go to keep reading?
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How do you do that ‘Peace Sign’ emoticon?
‘Kindred Spirits ☮’
I have never seen that one.
Fits just right into my montage.
I want it!
Fess up now Girl.
I thank you.
Thanks for visiting.
I do hope you read more here.
It ain’t half bad.
And all that jazz.
And yes: I have seen your site.
We are kin.
I am cracking up – I didn’t get past the disclaimer, before I was hitting the Like & Follow button. Def – Kindred Spirits ☮. I have a feeling I am going to enjoy your posts – tired now, but will be reading all chapters of “Lance, You Lie” tomorrow – looking forward to it 🙂
Life is just a tire swing
I have been know to attend the sermons of Reverend Jimmy, this is true. I’ll be dancing when I go…
Ah Ha! Yet another Parrot-Head disciple…
Wastin’ away… with Margarita-will
I don’t know any more than I absolutely must, and at that most of what I know is false anyway. Sail on, brother, but I’m stayin’ on the beach playing Songs You Know By Heart and puttin’ on a righteous buzz.
And if any of the above smells of bullshit, you are too much…
Well, ya know.
Your honest, heathenish, hedonistic, frankness…
Smooth’s, soothes my path forward. But of course you realize…this will be a work of Fiction…just some shit I read in a South China Sea novel, which had been translated from Mandarin to English, back to Mandarin, back to English. This spake: I cannot yet begin to call this an ‘Authorized Biography’.
Yet, I will sailor on, having thus received the lone vote required….
I say go with it. Of course I do — it’s not me with a 50 foot bungee cord and only 40 feet of canyon. 😀