Institutionalized ‘R’ Us: Or, That Place I Need/Want To Be

How I sometimes See/Experience My Mental Life:

I have come to the stark realization that I am at my best when institutionalized.

Long and varied History of this

Follow The Orange Brick Roads if You Be Fearless, or Feckless–Either Works For Me:

My point, if I have one, is that I need ‘Structure/Routine/Schedule’ in my life.

Without routine/structure in my life…

This is one reason I was a good SFM/Egypt/Israel Man.

And such a great Sailor/Military Man.

And such a good Iraq Man

And such a good… Fuck it!

Y’all have picked up on my point.

Without routine/structure in my life…

I become self-destructive.

No! I do NOT slice my wrists.

I do NOT (overmuch) eat garbage food.

I do not (overmuch) drink too much OK, THAT is a Bald-Faced Lie.

I do NOT Listen (overmuch) to Disco.

I do NOT (overmuch) watch CNN.

I do not (overmuch) shit-post on Facebook.

But What I actually do and do too overmuch and over the top, is think too much.

Way too much

Reflect too much.

****

Returning to the original point of this post:

I need to be institutionalized.

Or as my Father once confided in me:

“I live in my own little world, but it’s okay: They know me there.”

****

Flash Forward to ‘Present Day’:

Here we discover Lance, Living Large in The Lion’s Den.

No schedule.

No responsibilities

Nowhere to need to be

Sustainable cash inflow (Thanks Social Security)

Minimal Friends, FaceBook or otherwise to fret over.

Don’t feel compelled to answer my telephone if I don’t want to.

Valhalla, Right?

Heaven, Right?

Waco Texas, Right?

Wrong!

I am in Peril: With a capital ‘P’.

Left alone to my own devices and vices…

Well, it ain’t pretty.

And it ain’t nothin’ nice.

*****

I may or may not expand upon this derailed train of thought.

We’ll see.

(If I get any feedback, I’ll make an effort)

But, Y’all do realize, I am so busy right now going insane—almost a full-time job—requires almost all of my creative capital and ‘mental’ energy.

But, Please Stay Tuned.

Because if I know nothing else, I know I love my Readers.

Cheers Y’all,

–Lancers

P.S., Fairly Certain I would do quite well in Prison

(I have already been over the years)

But Pretty sure if I wanted to go to a ‘Real’ Prison, I could figure out how to get my cab fare–gratis

–L

Sexy Goddess Elizabeth: My Last Wife, Chapter Three: Lance Thinking With The Wrong Head (But Favorite Mistake)

C’est Moi!

When last we left

Our Hero,

He was all over the telephone, sorting out (and paying for) The Extended Stay In The ‘City of Light’ with his new Love.

****

As soon as I got everything sorted, settled and paid for, Ela telephoned her two kids: A daughter and a son—Bout 9 and 12 respectively.

It was kind of a ‘conference call’ from what I could glean, but only hearing Ela’s words, and watching her begin to get all misty-eyed and then break down in tears, I could only surmise:

This could, in no way, shape, matter, nor form bode well…

She hung up and through her crying eyes, announced,

“I have to go home. Now.”

“Whaaaat?”

“My children are distraught. They expected me home tomorrow, not in four days.”

“You wanna see ‘distraught?’ Look at me!”

Now, mind you, I really did not give a shit about the six grand it had just cost me to sort out the extended stay at our hotel (Since I no longer had a reservation and they claimed to be booked solid they broke it off in my ass—ditto Air France—at least six grand all in, but who’s counting at this point?

I could always go back to ‘The Sandbox’ and make Six-Grand in two Weeks, but that wasn’t really the point, was it?

I wanted MORE TIME with HER!

We spent that final night under a bridge across from Notre Dame, drinking wine and holding hands.

First thing next morning, I grabbed a cab and took her to the airport.

As we were waiting in-line to get her boarding pass I made an incredibly stupid decision:

“I am flying with you—to Springfield,” I blurted out.

(Yet more money down that drain)

“You sure?” She asked.

“Oui. Certainement.”

Sorted out my new plane ride logistics (And ass-raped once again by Air France)

We got our boarding passes, our carry-ons and boarded the plane.

What the Fuck had I just done?

I was certain I would pay for this folly, and probably much sooner than later.

Thirty minutes passed and we were Wheels-Up and non-stop to New-Fucking-Jersey (To catch our connection to Springfield)

(I like to think myself an intelligent, worldly man, but this. THIS was a bone-headed, stupid move)

Trust me, Gentle Readers, it gets worse.

To Be Continued…

Added Value To Accentuate My Point:

(This song will become more relevant in upcoming chapters)

And try to guess who stopped giving a shit first.

You have only two options–these are easy odds

Not like betting The Ponies, or Roulette. Or A Crap Shoot.

Go ahead: Put your Money On The Table–Take A Shot.

I love You Sheryl–Always Have–Always Will

(Even if you do resemble some Crack Whores I have called ‘Friend.’)

Hey! Wanna Try A Different ‘Lance’?

That Armstrong One Was Lame as Fuk–Just Sayin’.

But if it makes you happy…

Sexy Goddess Elizabeth: My Last Wife, Chapter Two: In France We Kissed On Main Street

In France we kissed on Main Street

Video Credit: MysticPieces

********

I was Free To Follow My Desire In Paris

We spent an inordinate amount of time in our lovely, comfy little love shack of a hotel room.

I had fetched along some of my most – favorite movies to share with Ela—Yes, at this point, she had instructed me to call her “Ela” because that was the moniker she went by, but reserved for her ‘closest friends.”—I figured ‘Lovers’—but whatever. I had made it to “Ela Status.” Hoped this boded well for our relationship.

Got one of the Hotel Staff to hook us up with a DVD Player so we could watch the movies I had brought to the soiree:

‘Cabaret’, ‘Hamlet,’ ‘Macbeth.’ Midnight Cowboy,’ ‘Henry V’–Just some ‘Light-Hearted viewing! HAHAHAH!

She loved ‘Henry V’ and ‘Cabaret.’

‘Macbeth’ and ‘Hamlet’ not as much.

We wasted (well, not wasted to me) a lot of time holed up in our little room watching these movies, drinking vin rouge, and making love. I was in Heaven. I had already seen much of The Paris I was interested in seeing (This was not my First ‘Paris Rodeo’—Had been to Paris several times already. As had she.

So we just drank, made love, watched movies, and fell deep IN-LOVE (for the most part)

We did go out, usually in the late evenings to stroll down the Champs-Élysées and hang out at the Café George V.

We were having a wonderful Paris Experience.

But, it was rapidly coming to an end.

She had to return to her ‘Main-Mundane’ in Springfield and I had to return to ‘Le Sandbox’ that was Iraq. We kinda grew morose.

Then I had one of those ‘epiphany things.’

“Ela,” I broached. “Why cannot we just extend our stay here a few more days? I can change our plane tickets, sort things out with the hotel. My job won’t fire me. I am too good at it, as I am sure you are at yours. Let’s stay a few more days.”

She blinked at me through teary eyes, embraced me, kissed me and said, “Oh Yes! Oh Hell Yes!”

Then I got on the telephone to sort out all the logistics and the dice were cast.

It turned out to be a not-so-very-good crap-shoot, but it took some time for that realization to make manifest.

To be continued…

Chapter One Here

Christmas Camp Wolfe, Iraq 2007

One time while on R&R in Commerce with Roberta I hatched a plan.

Since Parsons never seemed willing nor able nor wanted to…

To recognize the great work and sacrifice My Men were providing in the service of The Mission, we were blowing up Saddam’s unexploded bombs so that they would not be turned into IED’s Or VBIED’s

(The CMC Mission. “Coalition Munitions Clearance” Mission, legacy of Saddam)

I decided My Men needed some Recognition.

So, using a hand – drawn piece of artwork done by one of My Men, I commissioned some plaques, each one personalized with each Man’s Name on it.

I had Latson’s Printing and Office Supply do the work.

(I had ‘worked’ there for over ten years and knew Dick Latson and Gang would be up to the task and Git ‘R’ done. No way to get it all done before I had to return to the Sandbox, but I trusted Roberta to ‘UPS’ them to me in time for Christmas, which was rapidly approaching.)

We got mail from Al Asad Air Base ‘bout once a week via U.S. Marine convoy.

Sure as shit, the day before Christmas, I got all my packages with all the plaques—about 20 of them.

I spent the night wrapping each one up in old newspapers (I was rather short on Christmas wrapping paper).

Next day, Christmas, I handed them out.

And watched my guys unwrap their Christmas presents.

Their happiness and glee as each one saw his name on the plaque almost made me cry.

Almost

But I didn’t cry.

Until later.

Alone.

In my Hooch.

It was a good day and the best Christmas I have ever had.

And, truthfully,

Will ever have.

Related:The Happiest Year of My Life Remembered

The Life of One Man

I really don’t have the energy (or the ‘want to’) to edit this…

Sorry.

***

(Broken down by decades)

Kinda…

57-60: Born

60-64: Awkward Years

65-68: Awareness

68-74: Lost virginity, Oh! And innocence

’74-’77: Self-Respect was an issue: High School, et al.

’77-80: Sinai Desert: lost loves (in the desert) came of age

‘80-‘85: Played at “making up for all the bad shit I did in ’77-80—failed.

’85-’90: Served my country (and served some wimmens)

’90-2004’: Worked a thankless job.

‘2004-2009’ Served my country again: This time in Iraq: So what??

2009-2011: Tried my hand at ‘House Husband—Step-Father—Fail.

2011-2012: Afghanistan

2012-til now: Adrift

Now, none of this makes sense to anyone but me, but, dear readers, I am working on a post (as always) to make some sense of it all.

Stray tuned…

–Lancer

And PS. Yeah, I know; this is self-serving, fore  for? no one reads anyhow…so… just for fun.

 Cheers,

L

Working on a new post, entitled “The Last Time I Saw Richard.”

Stay tuned.

(but do it quickly, ’cause “I’m gonna blow this damn candle out…”)

Peace.

 

The Happiest Year of My Life Remembered

The news of late from CNN foretells the fall of Anbar Province and of Baghdad. I spent one year working in Anbar Province. This was the happiest (on record) year of my life.

I am attaching a video and yes it is corny, and yes, the music is somewhat ‘gay’, and no, this was not a video that I made, or would have made.

It is a video made by the Filipinos who worked for/with me during this time. They made this vid as a ‘going away’ present for me when I decided to leave Anbar (Camp Wolfe) to work for an Iraqi company in Baghdad. Filipinos lean toward sentimental, hence their choice of music. To them it was fittin’. I loved them all.

I cherish this video and the sentiment behind it.

I do hope you will watch.

Cheers,

Lance

P.S. Hint: I am the guy in the black gimme cap and the black jacket. Bob The Mechanic is the guy with the beard, wearing the overalls.

080116 Wolf Looking Northeast 080116 Wolf Looking Northwest 080116 Wolf Looking Southeast LN LSA

 

I just had to attach this vid as it is so apropos:

Lenny on stage

 

Steinbeck

Edit That.

 As a “thinking” person, I do not believe in ‘Creation Science’. Nor do I believe in “God.”

But… I do believe in Magic!

That Magic which calls itself :”Jodi Foster.”

(Hahaha! I am sooo funny! And yep: I have seen the movie. Lighten up.)

And I love Science ‘Friction’

“Tired of being all alone here…late at night”

I am a Socialist!

“Socialist:” One who needs warm bodies akin… his skin.”