I Cannot B’Leave I Re-Run. Yes, I Am Drunk. Next Question. “How Do You Hold A Moonbeam In Your Hand?” Here’s a Clue: You Cannot.

wrote This Buu-

shite-It is a Goddamn Pity-Party!

I still miss her.

“Maria” (And some guy)

Madelyn & Me!

Me & Madelyn!

On-The-Stage!

Stars!

She & Me!

Me & She!

We had to share The Spotlight, but

“The Play”

Was always about

HER

Not Me

As it should be.

*******

She ‘Maria’ to My ‘Cap’n Von Trapp’

“Sound of Music” HS Play: Circa 1975

(Every so often, Script demanded we ‘kiss’—We never did during rehearsals.)

During one rehearsal, when the script DEMANDED a kiss, and RIGHT NOW!

We didn’t. We did not kiss.

Some fellow ‘actor’ shouted, “Hey! Y’all didn’t do the kiss! How are Y’all gonna do a believable kiss on stage if you don’t rehearse?

Madelyn didn’t miss a beat and coolly replied,

“We rehearse our kisses every night.

When we are at home.

Alone.

So don’t worry.”

Opening night, we kissed, not unlike two horny teens. It was painful. (For her. Not for me! I had been waiting for years to kiss her!)

And right before we kissed, live on stage, in front of about three hundred audience, she whispered to me,

“You better not slip me no tongue.”

So… guess what I did?

Yep.

C’est Française, n’est-ce-pas?

She was NOT Amused, but she pulled it off, non·plussed

As if nothing untoward had just happened.

*********

OK. I am sober now. Slept off my drunk.

Easy.

I have Slept Off thousands of drunks in my day.

Got that routine down pat.

Could not sleep off my sorrow over losing my

MY

My Dear Madelyn:

New unchartered waters for me.

Never have I lost a sister.

My heart is broke, but this is not gonna be about me.

Lord knows I write too much about me and my narcissism.

This is about My Sister, My Madelyn.

My intent is to write and write and write about her for the next few days until I run out of virtual ink in my virtual pen.

Some of you out there in ‘Radio Land’ knew her.

If you have any memories to share, now would be the time.

This may come across as ‘sick’ to you, read in the harsh light of present day:

But, if I am being honest with my feelings, I must write them.

Since Madelyn and I were not actually ‘blood relations’ there were more than a few times when we were tempted.

Tempted to be much more than step-brother and step-sister.

There for damn sure was a mutual physical and cerebral attraction.

But… we were ‘mature’ enough, even back then, mature enough to understand that we could not go there, however much we, at times, desperately wanted to.

We wanted to ‘go there.’

Oh My God!

How we wanted to ‘Go There’!

But We didn’t.

It would have been so easy.

We had the entire third floor of Marcom Manor to ourselves.

The parents were often gone for days at a time.

Leaving us to ‘fend’ for ourselves.

For the sake of ‘The Family’… we didn’t.

Go there.

We didn’t go there.

Some small part of me wishes we had.

But if we had, this would be quite a different post than the one I am writing right now.

Over all the years there were so many things I wanted to say to Madelyn, but shit always seemed to get in the way.

Now, my mind is racing with all those words left unsaid.

Never to be said, at least not in this place, this alone place I find me in.

I suppose I can just cast this one out into the ether:

“Madelyn, I love/loved you!”

But she cannot hear me now, can she?

“How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?”

********

This Song very well, and very accurately, describes Madelyn.

She was always a ‘Problem.’

But!

She was SO Fucking charming!

Could NEVER be angry at her.

Never!

Not for a moment!

She could melt / play you with a smile.

(And she knew this power she had)

And trust me Folks,

She wielded it.

With reckless abandon.

(Much to my chagrin at times)

I could never get away with shit.

Madelyn did.

Every day!

Every-Fucking-Time!

**********

I cannot continue this.

At this moment.

But I will come back.

And sooner than later

***********

Gretchen:

“Madelyn had a horse once: a cross between a Shetland pony and a Welsh mare. Now, I really don’t know much about horses and during that time I knew even less, but I really did want to play cowboy, so I decided to make friends with the local “real cowboy” and have him teach me how to ride this animal. I was about twelve going on thirteen at the time.

The problem with this horse was that it was a pet. Madelyn had talked my father into buying it for her not long after she and her mom moved in (I was not yet on the scene; was still living with my grandparents.

I suppose I arrived some months after the horse). Anyway, she soon lost interest in Gretchen (is that a proper horse name?) hence, she (Gretchen) never ever got ridden; (I cannot speak for Madelyn.) This will become important later in my story.”

***

Leroy:

First he was taken by Kim. Kim got bored with him and gave him to my step-sister Madelyn. She thought he was just the coolest thing ever!

For about three days…

His coolness factor having for her it seems, a very short half-life, I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse for her coon: Cash Money. Money’s coolness factor has no half-life. She was only too happy to surrender Leroy to my care for the tidy sum of thirty-five bucks. Quite tidy indeed to an unemployed High School girl in 1974.

********

My heart is broken.

I miss you Madelyn!

You were so much more than my sister.

I was so forever in love

With

You

With You

OK. Now I am Drunk again.

Seems I have come ‘Full-Circle.’

I am gonna stop fucking around with this post and just wallow in my grief.

I miss My Sis

“Just One More Year/Beer? And Then I’ll Be Happy?” Talk Comes Cheap.

Not That Fridays, or Saturdays, Or Sundays, or Mondays Mean Fuk – All to Me,

But I do recall, Once Upon A Time, That The Day-of-the-Week was important.

These Days, Not So Much.

One Day Just Bleeds Into The Next.

But Y’all know what? I am Good with that.

“Just One More Beer And Then I’ll Be Happy.”

I’ve been blowin’ this same old, recycled smoke up my ass all of my life.

The Jews had a better, more sophisticated version:

“Next Year in Jerusalem.”

(Halfway to Jerusalem)

They ‘got theirs’ in ’48.

Cemented in, in ’67.

Where’s mine?

Funny, or perhaps ironic thing, or stupid thing:

I still ‘Mantra’ this Mantra at me, aloud even.

(But always while Alone—Don’t want people to think I AM THAT much Certifiable)

Point is, and I have written on this before…

Point is, I am a Cock-Eyed Optimist.

No one, No Event, No personal Tragedy, No Spilt Booze Will Ever Rob Me of My Naïve Optimism.

(OK, Spilt Booze just Might Make Me Waiver—For a Moment)

But other Than Spilt Booze, Never Gonna Happen. Never gonna lose my optimism

And for that resilient resilience, I am grateful.

*********

Here is the Lame FaceFuk Post which was the Geneses of this TT&H post.

I drop it in only for full-disclosure / transparency purposes.

******

 “You used to think that it was so easy

You used to say that it was so easy

But you’re tryin’, you’re tryin’ now

Another year and then you’ll be happy

Just one more year and then you’ll be happy

But you’re cryin’, you’re cryin’ now.”

(Shared By Lance: “The Happy, Upbeat Camper”)

And Thanks to Gerry

P.S., “And then he’ll settle down, in some quiet little town

And forget about everything.”

Yep. Did that. Doing that.  Livin’ The Dream Right Here in Commerce, America. Who says ‘You can Never Go Home Again?” I call ‘Bullshit’ on That Sentiment.

******

Gentle Readers,

Realizing full-well that I have been on my ‘Soapbox’ of late, and I may have come across as somewhat ‘Preachy,’ but please understand:

I am NOT trying to tell ANYONE how to live their life.

I am merely communicating how I choose to live mine.

For me: It is a ‘Survival Thing.’

And if, by some Disturbance in the Ether, just one person ‘Gets’ me.

That is just gravy—and worth my efforts.

Cheers Y’all!

–Lance

*****

I drop this in for levity.

Because, as is my wont, I always try to end a post with a bit of humor.

This clip is not at all germane, but actually…

If you explore my archives and read about my relationships with women, it kinda is…

Germane

Kinda Slightly Up-Dated. “How I came to live in the Shit Hole Garage Apartment which was not really a garage apartment, but only a Shit Hole underneath a garage apartment”

“I Fake it so real I am beyond Fake.”

 

Memory fails, but I have pieced together something approaching honest fact. I lost my posh digs at Ponderosa Apartments, and was forced to down-size.

Madelyn, My Sis,

was living large in the ‘Proper Garage Apartment’ and was ‘in good’ with the Landlord. She informed me he had this ‘wonderful little apartment’ for rent, which was ‘just perfect’ for me. Read CHEAP.

I checked it out, paid my fifty bucks and moved in. The moving in took all of two minutes, for I had not much to move.

Working for Ruth at her Liquor store in Ladonia and making a solid three dollars fifty cents an hour (plus ‘benefits), it was indeed, ‘perfect’ for me.

Now mind you, I never complained about living in such a place. After all, it did suit me and no one would have cared anyhow if it didn’t. It had some kind of ‘certain charm (just like this place) to be sure.

How many folks could invite a guest into their home and lead them past the shitter before arriving into the living room/bedroom/kitchen/study proper? As far as I knew, I had the only such place in all of Commerce. It was special.

And truth be told, I did some ‘entertaining’ there a couple of times. The only person who I would invite over was my girlfriend. She never judged me. She was always happy to be with me, no matter the venue. (Yes, that sounds conceited, but there it is Gentle Reader—c’est vrai, or quel dommage, or… choose your own français).

Continue reading

I miss her so Much! So Marvelous Much! Yeah. I am ass deep in the Middle Of A Missed Midst Missed Sis Crying of a crying jag! Fuk This! I Should Find Better Things To Do With My Mind.

Why? Why Did She Have To Die?

“I’ll Think About It Tomorrow.”

It is a Sister Kind of Day! I Miss Her So Fukking Much!!! Just Shoot Me! In the Head! Twice! “How Do You Hold A Moonbeam In Your Hand?” You Can’t. Trust Me: I’ve Tried.

I still miss her.

“Maria” (And some guy)

Madelyn & Me!

Me & Madelyn!

On-The-Stage!

Stars!

She & Me!

Me & She!

We had to share The Spotlight, but

“The Play”

Was always about

HER

Not Me

As it should be.

*******

She ‘Maria’ to My ‘Cap’n Von Trapp’

“Sound of Music” HS Play: Circa 1975

(Every so often, Script demanded we ‘kiss’—We never did during rehearsals.)

During one rehearsal, when the script DEMANDED a kiss, and RIGHT NOW!

We didn’t. We did not kiss.

Some fellow ‘actor’ shouted, “Hey! Y’all didn’t do the kiss! How are Y’all gonna do a believable kiss on stage if you don’t rehearse?

Madelyn didn’t miss a beat and coolly replied,

“We rehearse our kisses every night.

When we are at home.

Alone.

So don’t worry.”

Opening night, we kissed, not unlike two horny teens. It was painful. (For her. Not for me! I had been waiting for years to kiss her!)

And right before we kissed, live on stage, in front of about three hundred audience, she whispered to me,

“You better not slip me no tongue.”

So… guess what I did?

Yep.

C’est Française, n’est-ce-pas?

She was NOT Amused, but she pulled it off, non·plussed

As if nothing untoward had just happened.

*********

OK. I am sober now. Slept off my drunk.

Easy.

I have Slept Off thousands of drunks in my day.

Got that routine down pat.

Could not sleep off my sorrow over losing my

MY

My Dear Madelyn:

New unchartered waters for me.

Never have I lost a sister.

My heart is broke, but this is not gonna be about me.

Lord knows I write too much about me and my narcissism.

This is about My Sister, My Madelyn.

My intent is to write and write and write about her for the next few days until I run out of virtual ink in my virtual pen.

Some of you out there in ‘Radio Land’ knew her.

If you have any memories to share, now would be the time.

This may come across as ‘sick’ to you, read in the harsh light of present day:

But, if I am being honest with my feelings, I must write them.

Since Madelyn and I were not actually ‘blood relations’ there were more than a few times when we were tempted.

Tempted to be much more than step-brother and step-sister.

There for damn sure was a mutual physical and cerebral attraction.

But… we were ‘mature’ enough, even back then, mature enough to understand that we could not go there, however much we, at times, desperately wanted to.

We wanted to ‘go there.’

Oh My God!

How we wanted to ‘Go There’!

But We didn’t.

It would have been so easy.

We had the entire third floor of Marcom Manor to ourselves.

The parents were often gone for days at a time.

Leaving us to ‘fend’ for ourselves.

For the sake of ‘The Family’… we didn’t.

Go there.

We didn’t go there.

Some small part of me wishes we had.

But if we had, this would be quite a different post than the one I am writing right now.

Over all the years there were so many things I wanted to say to Madelyn, but shit always seemed to get in the way.

Now, my mind is racing with all those words left unsaid.

Never to be said, at least not in this place, this alone place I find me in.

I suppose I can just cast this one out into the ether:

“Madelyn, I love/loved you!”

But she cannot hear me now, can she?

“How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?”

********

This Song very well, and very accurately, describes Madelyn.

She was always a ‘Problem.’

But!

She was SO Fucking charming!

Could NEVER be angry at her.

Never!

Not for a moment!

She could melt / play you with a smile.

(And she knew this power she had)

And trust me Folks,

She wielded it.

With reckless abandon.

(Much to my chagrin at times)

I could never get away with shit.

Madelyn did.

Every day!

Every-Fucking-Time!

How do you hold a moonbeam in you hand?

**********

I cannot continue this.

At this moment.

But I will come back.

And sooner than later

***********

Gretchen:

“Madelyn had a horse once: a cross between a Shetland pony and a Welsh mare.

Now, I really don’t know much about horses and during that time I knew even less, but I really did want to play cowboy, so I decided to make friends with the local “real cowboy” and have him teach me how to ride this animal. I was about twelve going on thirteen at the time.

The problem with this horse was that it was a pet. Madelyn had talked my father into buying it for her not long after she and her mom moved in

(I was not yet on the scene; was still living with my grandparents.

I suppose I arrived some months after the horse). Anyway, she soon lost interest in Gretchen

(is that a proper horse name?) hence, she (Gretchen) never ever got ridden; (I cannot speak for Madelyn.) This will become important later in my story.”

***

Leroy:

First he was taken by Kim. Kim got bored with him and gave him to my step-sister Madelyn. She thought he was just the coolest thing ever!

For about three days…

His coolness factor having for her it seems, a very short half-life, I made her an offer she couldn’t refuse for her coon:

Cash Money. Money’s coolness factor has no half-life. She was only too happy to surrender Leroy to my care for the tidy sum of thirty-five bucks. Quite tidy indeed to an unemployed High School girl in 1974.

********

My heart is broken.

I miss you Madelyn!

You were so much more than my sister.

I was so forever in love

With

You

With You

Cred: Cris Issack

***

OK. Now I am Drunk again.

Seems I have come ‘Full-Circle.’

I am gonna stop fucking around with this post and just wallow in my grief.

I miss My Sis

Faith

Beautiful Lady
Such Class!

So Much Class!

One of These Days,

I Hope I Can Say

“I Left In Time.”

Religion.

Specifically: Southern Religion

More specifically: Texan Religion.

I am talking Methodists, Baptists, Church of Chist(ers)—the Entire Gamut of The Faithful.

I love all of Y’all.

No secret: “Lance is an Atheist.”

(This is well-documented.)

However, I do love AND RESPECT

All Folks of Faith.

I just do not roll that way.

Cannot.

But I love the music.

And I love the morality

(I have that too— ‘morality’—I do not need Religion to have that)

I love the culture of Faith.

I never mean to demean anyone of Faith.

My fervent wish is to never offend.

I have too much respect for Folks of Faith.

Too much respect For Fellow Texans,

most of whom are Religious.

(I was going somewhere with this post)

Probably to Hell.

******

Post Script:

I have read ‘The Iliad’

And ‘The Odyssey’

And All The Norsemen—Thor–in particular.

I have read ‘Beowulf’

And The ‘King James Bible.’

All Great Mythology.

All Magnificent Literature.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but I know what I’m talking about.

(“One of these days I’ll look back and I’ll say I left in time.”)

“What you don’t know about women is a lot Lance-a-Not”

–Rose Castorini (Olympia Dukakis)

In This Vid Clip, You Will Discover Lance.

Video Cred: Ted Reinert

Lance loves women;

He just cannot help Himself.

He does not understand them.

Therein lies that magic…

“Moonlight in a Martini.”

(Volumn is fukked. Crank it up!)

Lance Romance.

Added Value:

“Breaks Your Heart Just Lookin’ At Her.”

Snakes and Ladders

–Joni

(If you do not listen carefully to the song… I dropped it in For A Really, Really, Really Good Reason)

(Figure it out–If You Can)

I am flying SOLO NOW!

WISH ME LUCK!

https://texantales.com/2021/02/26/farewell-forevermore-to-my-best-ever-friend-my-abusive-muse-i-am-sad-but-also-happy/

“He Gave up Happy Hour For Her.”

Joni/Muse!

Musing…