This is a True, Recent Story: Not Something From ‘The Archives.’
No Names Have Been Changed To Protect Innocents
(Because I Don’t Know Any)
It was recently brought to my attention that there is a rumor making the circuit in My Home Town of Honey Grove:
“Lance Marcom was found dead.”
(Not sure where or why or how they found me, but those would just be superfluous details—no need for them—not in a small Texas Town)
And ‘THOSE‘ would (most likely) just be Tales Told By Idiots, Full Of Sound And Fury, Signifying Nothing
Of course this made me laugh hysterically—and also made my day—no such thing as ‘bad press’ for a wanna-be fledgling writer.
So, ‘Thank-You-Very-Mucho-Much’ to whoever started this story.
While I was still laughing my ass off on the phone with my very good old friend who had brought this News to me, a brilliant idea began to gestate in my mind:
“Hey Johnny! Let’s run with this. You tell everyone that you have confirmed the veracity of this report. Then you set up a GoFundMe page for the Funeral Expenses—Should Fly—My Poverty is Well-Documented.
We’ll split the ‘Charitable’ Proceeds 50/50.”
(I have always had a bit of larceny in my bones and in my genes and in my heart)
“I’m on it.” said Johnny, “But do you honestly think anyone gives a shit about “Lance Marcom?”
“Print Up some Flyers; scatter them around in Ladonia–the ‘Marcom Name’ still carries a bit of weight there, Because of My Grandfather.
You know of him. He was the Town Doctor who would accept chickens, or pigs, or heifers, in lieu of money. He was loved and belov’d.”
I detected a ‘smirk’ (Remotely–on my Smart-Phone) crawling all-over-the-face of my Friend at the mention of ‘Heifers.’
“Johnny, they were ‘four-legg’d heifers–that’s all.’ My Grandfather Marcom was a Fucking Methodist!
And Allow me to reiterate.
I’ve been riding fare-free and care-free on his ‘Fame-Train’ all my life. “
Plan Incubated and Hatched—Now for the execution of same—no Pun
As an aside, if the Police Do Get Involved, The Numero-Uno Prime Suspect Will Be Guess Who?
“I’m not dead. I feel fine. Think I’ll go for a walk…”
This is how I am living my life these days. Actually, how I have always lived my life.
I Don’t have much at all, money-wise, material-wise but I am ‘Rich’ with things of much more Value and Worth and I AM Thankful.
I am thankful, most of all, for all the wonderful people who have, over the years, come into my life and Blessed me with their Friendship
I am thankful for all the extraordinary opportunities I have had to travel the world and make friends of people from all walks of life and cultures
I am thankful for all the women I have loved and who have loved me back and put up with my bullshit and wanderlust and quirky, eccentric ways—even loved me for them, or in spite of them, I suppose
I am thankful for my mother and father. Neither was perfect, but who is? Certainly not This Cowboy.
I am thankful for having the Great Good Fortune to be a Native Texan. Sounds like hyperbole? It Ain’t. Believe it.
I am thankful for having the time to focus on my writing and for The Internet for allowing me the vanity to ‘share’ my work. (Thanks Al Gore for Inventing The Internet—We LOVE YOU MAN!)
I am thankful for not needing to go on Food Stamps (Not Yet Anyhow) That is a Joke, By the way…
I am thankful that Booze has failed in its unrelenting, timeless, tireless effort to kill me. “Keep tryin’ Booze! Stay focused and positive. You may just succeed one day.But I doubt it.” (Another Joke!)
By the way Booze, How long will this bullshit go on?
I have no regrets for how I have lived my life.
(OK, Perhaps a few ‘Minor Regrets’—I have not always been ‘The Smartest-Person-In-The-Room; In fact, I have often been the stupidest person in the room.
But I have lived my life without compromise and I took responsibility for my actions and the consequences thereof.
And I have treated people with compassion, kindness, and respect throughout my life.
Y’all have a Great Sunday.
P.S. “What Is Your Plan Going Forward Lance?” Some may enquire.
“Why, To Keep On Truckin’ Of Course. What a silly question…Hahaha!”
“Lance: “Grateful Alive”
Be Happy Y’all.
A Beautiful, Poetic Song About Life From A Beautiful Poetic Woman:
Girls (And This Cowboy/Sailor) Just Wanna Have Fu’un
SPAM ALERT! “DANGER WILL ROBINSON!” (Posted on FaceFuk Today—Not Sure Why)
I posted this on 26 January, but I don’t think ‘it took.’ So here it is again.
Will Write Some New, Original Shit Real Soon.
(Hey! I still have that bridge for sale–20 percent off–Today Only.)
I am rather proud (There is that ‘Vanity’ Thang again—Rearing its ugly head) of me for the construction of this one. But It was sincere and it was ‘heartfelt.’
There is a plethora of Upbeat, Happy, and Positive Stolen Content. —Take a look.
My Good Friends, Yes, times are severely Fukked Right Now. We all know this, but, if we lose our optimism, positivity, and hope, and give in to Nattering Nabobs of Negativity, (CNN, I’m staring/glaring at YOU!)
Then We become Part of The Problem, and not The Solution.
Keep the Faith Friends. Stay Positive, Optimistic, and Joyous. Life is a Gift, no Matter The Current State of Fukked-Up we find The Times to be. Things will Get Better. They Always Do.
(I missed my ‘Calling!’ I should have been a preacher! Joke, By the Way,)
END OF SERMON
(And Don’t Neglect The Tithing Plates — Commentary and Feedback)
Credit to Spiro Agnew For The ‘Nattering Nabobs’ quote. I endeavor to always Give Credit Where Credit is due—Speaking of, I have maxed out two of my five credit cards. I may need to win the lottery soon—just to maintain my luxurious, glamorous lifestyle.
And here is The Genesis: (You really did not think Spiro had The Smarts to come up with this on his own, did you?)
“The term was used by William Safire in a speech written for United States Vice President Spiro Agnew in 1970, which received heavy media coverage. Agnew, increasingly identified with his attacks on critics of the Nixon administration, described these opponents as “nattering nabobs of negativism”.”
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.
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.
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
“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.
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.
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.
“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.
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…
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
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?“
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?
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.”
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
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
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
Much More Recognition
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: