“Le Space Race.” Or, “Computer Games For My Fun, But For No Profit & No Wives” *I Could Survive W/O The Wives, But Never Without The Computer Gaming Lives I Lived–Am Still Living*

Figured this is as good as that.

OR… why waste good ancient prose?

Your choice.

Here ya go:

*****

Now that is a good term from the Cold War, i.e., ‘Le Space Race.’
However, it still rings true today; rings true as something, almost… unattainable, yet so very much coveted.

“Escape Velocity”

Cal Gone! Take me away! (sic) Yeah: sick.

Point is, I have spent the better part of my life ‘playing’ computer games. Some might be tempted to label them ‘video’ games.
(They are NOT video games, Love: they are ways I increase my mental, mental…”)
Old Story warning here:

That guy. That guy, who used to write about distance running, what was his name” Oh Yeah! Joe Henderson; I read all of his books… Oh yeah! He died of a heart-attack… Just details…

He wrote a bit:
His bit went something like this:
He was ‘runnin’ down a road. Some kid says, “Hey, Hi! Mister Jogger!”
He replied, “Hey Kid! I am not a jogger; I am a runner! A ‘Runner!’ Get it right!”
The kid replied, “Well then, why are you jogging?”
I had to laugh; been there, et etcetera…
This is the part where I get pissed. (And when I get pissed… well, you would not like me)

The worst thing one (amongst the uninitiated) is to say, proclaim:
“Are you still playin’ that damn stupid video game?!!”
Perfect retort:

“Yes Madame. I am.”
“Oh. Well, be a good boy and don’t go downtown, protesting’ and such…”
“Yessum. I won’t”
“Good boy there then…”
“Yes, Ma’am.” (“Now Fuck Off” This is what I did truly think)

But,  she I did have a point, but my ‘point’ swerved into something else, which I really do not wanna talk about.
My point it thus: Kids that played computer games in the Eighties are now in charge of your world.
And to loosely quote Forrest Gump:
“That is all I am gonna say about that.”

Some thoughts?

And P.S., Yes! I have of late, been spending some quality time with some of my ‘computer’ games. They know me there, and I don’t have to be too creative (actually, I do, but most….) Well…

My blogging experience is failing me of late. Not to say that I do not appreciate The Community. Just to say… that I am between gigs and this is beginning to weigh upon me.

Certainly, I will be about, but please do not chastise me for not visiting your respective blogs on a respective basis. (My intent is to intentionally do so, albeit, tomorrow), yet… I am real tired.

And my health is no good.

I will catch up…

mañana,

I Promise.

“For Love or Money”

“He Grabs At The Air Because There’s Nothin’ There…”

Credit: Joni

 

And yeah! In case you missed my ‘subliminal’ bullshit:

I still miss Shonnie

’tis a curse: A curse of a good woman.

https://texantales.com/2021/06/20/shonnie-just-some-last-thoughts-one-reminisce-2/

*******

Tuesday Ed. Note: This Post Makes Absolutely NO SENSE

Hahahahaha

57 thoughts on ““Le Space Race.” Or, “Computer Games For My Fun, But For No Profit & No Wives” *I Could Survive W/O The Wives, But Never Without The Computer Gaming Lives I Lived–Am Still Living*

  1. Well I sure don’t know how to fix WP. A bottle of Schlitz and a ball peen hammer, perhaps?

  2. DFWSteve

    “we can always count on the Lancer for a welcomed Joni infusion!”

    Thank You Steve.

    You do realize how I do despise Joni

    Yuk
    Yuk
    And….
    Yuk!!
    LMFAO!!

  3. Can’t speak for ’80’s music and puffing, too far back, I think. Was that disco? But if want sumthin’ the real deal of now, today, go discover Charley Crockett if you ain’t already. I found him 5 years ago. This month he made teh cover of Texas Monthly. It’s about time.

  4. Yeah.
    I Have read the fucking book.
    Thrice..
    And, in point of fact,
    More than thrice.

    And sorry/not sorry.
    For My Profanity.

    I am a SAILOR.

    FUCK WERE YOU EXPECTING…

    FROM A Sailor?

  5. I dare not move.
    B’cauz ever-time I move, my comp crashes again.

    So what do I do in such times of frustration?
    I throw my computer against the wall.

    Works fer me!
    Ever’time.
    And It FEELs GOOD!

    LIFE’S SIMPLE PLEARSURES…

    https://video.search.yahoo.com/yhs/search;_ylt=AwrFF5wxZmBkir01fSwPxQt.;_ylu=Y29sbwNiZjEEcG9zAzEEdnRpZAMEc2VjA3BpdnM-?p=FEELS+so+good+chuck&type=ud-c-us–s-p-qbcml25t–exp-none–subid-none&param1=v2fz4tftlfbnnxtx8hmxw9qh&hsimp=yhs-055&hspart=infospace&ei=UTF-8&fr=yhs-infospace-055#id=1&vid=38c8a538ee7df5051987318de1afee6d&action=view

  6. Actually, I was born at four p.m.–on a Monday– In Ladonia, Texas—
    But that just does not sound as poetic… Sounds somewhat Mundane, in fact.
    So, for my purposes and the purpose of this narrative: I was born at mid-night—It was a Dark Ans Stormy Night…

  7. “I record that I was born; at twelve ‘O’clock at Night”

    TBC…

  8. “How come do you have a gun?

    Lance sez: “I am/was/is a ‘Navy GM–Gunner’s Mate.
    Fuck You expect?”

  9. “He’s a Well-Kept Secret of The Under-Ground
    Just More Bang-Bang Catch-Up Colour to Him.
    Just More 20th Century FOX!”

    –Joni

  10. He’s a Well-Kept Secret….

    The firmament of Tinsel Town
    Is strung with tungsten stars
    Lot’s of forty watt successes
    He says, “Where’s my own shining hour?”

    He’s the well kept secret of the underground
    He’s in debt to the company store
    Because his only channeled aspiration
    Was getting back that girl he had before

    He’s got stacks and stacks of words that rhyme
    Describing what it is to lose
    He’s got some just for laughs, he’s got some for love
    That mainline to his blues

    Some to shed a little light
    On you and on me
    Some to shed a little light
    On a human story

    The wars of pride and property
    The rebel Irish and the promised land Jew
    Fighting behind his eyes and over seas
    Wounded in action and no ceasefire in view

    Brave reporters bring the battles home
    But tonight inside that box
    Just more bang-bang ketchup color to him
    Just more Twentieth Century Fox

    All because that ghostly girl comes haunting
    Just out of reach outside his bed
    She kicks the covers off of his sleep
    For the clumsy things he said

    She commands his head
    She tries his sanity
    She demands his head
    Tonight unknowingly

    Vaguely she floats and lacelike
    Blown in like a curtain on the night wind
    She’s nebulous and naked
    He wonders where she’s been

    He grabs at the air because there’s nothing there
    Her evasiveness stings him now
    With long legs, long lonely legs
    Bruised from banging into things

    One day he was standing just outside her door
    He was carrying an armload of bright balloons
    She just laughed
    She said she heard him knocking
    And she teased him for the moon

    “Is one the moon, dear clown
    Tied to a string for me?”
    He tried but he could not get it down
    For truth or mystery
    He tried but he could not get it down
    For love or money

  11. Here’s an old joke:

    “Do You Know Why The Romans Built The Coliseum Round?

    So The Italians Wouldn’t Shit In The Corners.”

    True Story.
    You Can Look It Up.

  12. I cannot even ‘post’ a comment on my own WP Post. Thank YOU WP!
    Now Politely (and silently) go fuk off!

  13. I First ‘screened’ this Movie,

    The Heartbreak Kid

    In The HG Movie Theater & Heavy-‘Petting Parlor’ Back in ’72…
    Had to back and watch it four more times

  14. Oh Screw it! I JUST Wanted To Drop ‘The Clip’–Not the Entire Fricken Movie!

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