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

Sorry Kids. I am stupid Drunk–Not Really. Just Stupid–Had to Re-Post This—Expanded A Bit. I Miss My Navy SEAL Training Hazy Daze!

Happy Cockeyed Optimist.

“I’m Stuck Like a Dope With On a Thing called ‘Hope”

I am Stupid Naive!

Immature and Incurably Green

I’ve loved my life!

Cockeyed Optimist

Mitzi Gaynor

(From “South Pacific”)

Never Worry!

“Worry” is the most useless waste of human emotions

A waste of time and energy!

***

Video Credit: BobbyMcFerrin #DontWorryBeHappy #Vevo

Late entry/addition which no one will see. I drop it anyway. just a fond memory:

When I was in Navy SEAL training, late Eighties, we had, everyday, to run around with IBS on our head (IBS: Inflatable-Boat-Small).

This is part of a song we made up:

“Oh IBS! Stuck To My Head I Guess!”

The Instructors Often Filled Them With Sand.

Just For The Added Fun

Rock Portage

So Much Fun!

(One of My Shipmates Managed To Break His Leg While We Were ‘Performing’ This Fun Little ‘Evolution’.)


NAVY SEAL TRAINING: BUD/S

Surf Passage

I loved My Times Two Navy SEAL

Training Experience (’86 & ’88)

This Guy, Patstone, is Very Representative of Your

Typical BUD/s Instructor

I Think Somewhere In-A-Hidden, Very Top-Secret So Cal Location There is A ‘Clone Lab’ Where The Navy Makes These Guys

Instructor Patstone

Whom I Got To Know Too Well

(For My Taste)

******

One day, one morning, my class mustered and went to retrieve our assigned IBS’s. Someone in another boat crew was laughing manically.

WTF? I pondered.

I walked over to the boat crew.

“What is so goddamn funny?” I asked.

“Lookit this shit” one said.

I looked at their IBS.

One of the SEAL instructors had spray-painted on all the IBS’s

“Don’t worry; Be Happy.”

Video Credit: BobbyMcFerrin #DontWorryBeHappy #Vevo

***

I had to laugh.’

I did still manage to maintain my sense of humor, even though I knew I was probably gonna die that day….

Damn! I miss those days. And all the ‘good’ times!

Yeah. Believe what you’ve heard/read: SEAL training is BRUTAL. But ya gotta keep a sense of humor about you. Or at least in your pocket.

****

I love Barb in Her Sailor Suit!!

(Judy, You know I LOVE You Too!)

“Happy Days Are Here Again!”

Video Credit: George John

Running in Soft Sand: SEAL Training Part Three. But Truthfully More Alternate Stuff (I’ll Write Another ‘Proper’ BUD/s Post Soon)

I actually know this meme-guy: he was an Instructor in BUD/s Class 158. I Know. I was there.

 

 

A BUD/s Instructor, i.e., a ‘Demigod’

 

Or…

Alternate Titles:

“Lance’s Ramblings from his 115th Dream Stream”

(Sorry Bob)

“Call me if they die.”

‘Semi Consciousness Streams of Conscientiousness’

 

Raining upon My Hit Parade’

‘Nights in White Satin’ – that one makes no sense. That is why I put it in.

Vid Cred: Redbaron863

Or, last and least perhaps: “I have become my Grandfather, or How I became Andy Rooney in One Thousand Words or Less, an essay.”

Gentle Readers, it has not escaped my undying attention that I tend to lean heavily toward the overly-dramatic. The ‘trauma drama’ effect even. Call it a ‘crutch’ if you will.

Yep. Call it that.

This I do know. Therefore, I have (Through my magical powers derived from watching old re-runs of ‘Dragnet’—“Just the facts Ma’am. Just the facts.”—decided to ‘come on back down to Earth, Son’.

–Boz Scaggs: Lowdown)

My (solely appreciated) goal here is to present just ‘them’—just them facts.

I hope I am successful. For y’all’s sake.

When last we left our hero, he was leading his class to their first BUD/s workout. Well, you cannot really call it such: more like a medieval (‘I’m gonna get medieval on your ass’) torture session.

Whatever

 

Even at zero five (‘Zero Dark Thirty?), The Grinder was a hot, miserable place to be, especially NOT designed for yoga or even step-up aerobics, and / or certainly not Pilates. (Gay Pirates?) No. ‘Twas Wasn’t. There is a reason they (Navy) call it ‘The Grinder.” You go ahead and figure out the obvious.

But this day I do not wanna write about Those Lazy Crazy Hazy Days of Summer…

I want to write about this:

I think. I think I am. Therefore I am… I think.

–Moody Blues, With apologies to René Descartes

***

Now Y’all, much of that I wrote late last night. (Under Some Influence)

Didn’t publish. (Thank Baby Hey Zeus). But I woke up this morning

(Praise be to Allah—Ah Ha!) And you, yes you! (My Human Friends) were on my mind:

To MORE BAD News Stories. I shall list them below so that you may share in ‘The Misery’ That is OUR ‘New World’ (You may thank me later. Send cards and letters…)

  1. The Middle East is still throwing gasoline upon their (and our) raging fire

  2. There will probably never be closure nor justice for Michael Brown or his family

  3. Ebola is raging strong (But only in Africa: So, who cares, right? The WHO, that’s who)

  4. ISIS is our new (never heard of till yesterday) National Crisis & Clear and Present Danger (or new best friend for our Military Industrial Complex, off of which I tend to make MY living)—Much hand-wringing and soul searching over that one. NOT! Damn! Put me in Coach! I live for this shit!

  5. My dog has fleas… Fuckin’ fleas. Dogs!

  6. My British GF finds me… well, of late, she don’t (find me)

  7. I dreamt late last night about my favorite dead cat (Her name was Lucia and she was ‘The Cat From Hell’ and I miss her still—probably the only ‘real’ relationship I have ever had with ‘pussy.’)

  8. My blood pressure remains off the chart and I think I may have given myself diabetes: Type Duh

  9. I have been remiss in visiting and commenting on the blogs of my good friends

  10. Maybe I will just go and eat worms. Maybe I like to eat worms…

Now, Don’t let it bring you down, but that is how I woke up. (And I was happy to have woken up… for just-one-more-day…stay?)

And hey!

Don't stay here

Photo taken in Iraq (or Afghanistan) I honestly don’t remember…

There really is no point to this post. Let us just call it “Unconscious Stream of Consciousness”.

And I will most likely, delete it (and y’all know, I am quick on the mouse trigger when it comes to deletion: I see it as a form of… birth control. So read fast!)

So There.

Now to the ‘Meat of the Matter’:

KAREN

I want to write about ‘The Age of Innocence’: The Seventies.

Yep. I tend to live in the glory that was Roaming… You may bail out here. Here, in fact here is your parachute. Be certain to locate the RIP Cord before you exit the plane: Just a word to some wise and hey!

Bon Voyage!

***

For those of y’all who still remain, I want to write about Karen Carpenter. Not ‘The’ Karen Carpenter, but the Karen Carpenter that symbolized how I felt about the Seventies. Yeah, that one. Her.

***

I woke up with Karen Carpenter on my mind (and yes: I have posted about her recently, but I wanted to try to explain why now)

I woke up with Karen and sadly not in my bed, but in my mind.

Why?

Because… of the ‘Age of Innocents.’ I call her one. The first casualty of the sickness that guides us: This American Dream of having to be some other person. A person, in the spotlight who is …. Drumroll: PERFECT!

No one is perfect and certainly not me (though I am pretty close). Yet, no one is perfection. We cannot be. There is no God and if you believe that there is, you are about as far removed from ‘Perfection’ as a Human…

I should delete that sentence, as it is not Germane, nor German, to my point. Let me think on it…

Back to The Seventies: The Age of Innocents (I was innocent; were you? Probab’ly not.)…

I am running on empty now/here.

“I don’t know where I’m runnin’ now; I’m just runnin’ on…

The Seventies.

I would like some thoughts on that/those. From you! And then, having received same, I will continue. Maybe.

Your choice.

Shalom

Salaam

Namaste

Hook ‘em Horns

Peace,

–Lancers

And P.S. I am sorry for stealing all the vid clips. I will (I promise) accolade y’all later–more later–but later)

And: to any readers I have left:

I am in some form of cryxis: I will be, as Shakespeare once wrote, “King Richard is himself again.” once be.

Stay tuned…
Or not: Yer choice.

Peach,

Lanced

Oh! And by the way… Jackson Browne was/is an asshole

Read it here

Bye now…

Jennifer Gray. OKay? I Slightly Up-Dated This Chocolate Mess: If I Were Twenty Years Younger I’d Give Her All Of My Money Just For One Kiss: Oh Hell To The Hell Yeah!

“Just A Fool To Believe” And Word-Press (Once Again) Fucked Up My Post

I Cannot Wrap My Moron Mind Around How I Managed To Leave Out Some Of The Most Important Vids!

When First I Published This.

JOHNNY CARSON INTERVIEW JENNIFER GREY Feb 02 1990

“She’s Like The Wind”–“Just A Fool to Believe—“Jennifer Grey, Okay?! I Know She Was a Famed Flaming Bitch to Work With–Precisely Why I Love Her So Marvelous Much! (And Some Other Superfluous Stuff)”

Word-Press Managed To Mangle My Angle

This is So ‘Eighties’

I LOVE IT!

******

“She’s Like The Wind”

“Dirty Dancing”

Screen Test:

Like The Wind:

I look in the mirror and all I see
Is a young old man with only a dream
Am I just fooling myself
That she’ll stop the pain?
Living without her
I’d go insane
I feel her breath in my face
Her body close to me
Can’t look in her eyes
She’s out of my league
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She’s like the wind

****

She’d Drive Me Insane

******

*******

Dirty Dancing – “Mambo – Dance Training” (1987)

Cred Fir Share: Stu Pollard

******

Fool to Believe

The Doobie Brothers – What A Fool Believes

Pay Close Attention to the Lyrics

or

You Miss The Entire Point of the Exercise

******

(This below is a Very Gaay Vid, But I Love The SONG)

Jennifer: Honesty

Wonderful Classy Lady:

Just a Fool To Believe

Love Her…. Unconditionally

(And That’s A Stretch For Me)

YES! JENNIFER!

Time of Your Life

Thank You Beautiful Lady For Enriching Mine

**********************

Uh…
Just to kick this off,

Please watch to this bit to get y’all in the mood:


Manosphere Environment
Manosphere Environment6.34K subscribers

Off To The Rodeo!

 ********

Sahara Hare Right There! (Below)

 

Here is a ‘novel’ approach (Well not really for me)

However maybe for Y’all:

This is a ‘work-in-progress’. Most writers polish, polish, polish, then anguish, anguish, anguish, and then… finally… publish. I subscribe to a slightly different philosophy tenet philosophy: “Just throw it out there and fix it later.” Probably not wise, but what the hell?

Anyway. Yup. This is a ‘work in progress’ (process?) and yes, I do have (buried somewhere in the dank, dark, dank, deep, nether depths of my addled mind) a purpose for this post. And yes, I hope to coax  lure hoist it up to the surface and board  beach land it, still flopping about, right here on this page.

Might be entertaining (or not) to watch the process. And in this vain vein, I am going to keep all the edits here, just as an experiment. A way to look into the my writing/editing process. (“Now damnit, I do hope I can come up with a valid subject to go along with this ‘wonderful’ prose.”)

To (obviously) be continued…Please don’t change touch that dial!

(And, as usual: nothing works if you don’t click the video/sound bite below)

***

Yes.

Moody Blues?

Dare I say?

Genius?

Naw!

“Just What You Want to Be, You’ll Be In The End.”

*****

Boz Scaggs

Just kids havin’ fun

(We are entitled to fun, eh?)

“Who put those idea’s  ideas in your head?”

And…

“The Pursuit of Happiness”

Cred for Vid Share:Redbaron863

********

(I read that somewhere)

“Come on back down to Earth Son!”

“Boz, I Am Really Tryin'”

P.S. Yes my mind is a terrible thing. And if you have not clicked all the audio, you will lose Karma. Just sayin’…

Here was my mantra during those six months I spent languishing away in Amman Jordan between Iraq gigs:

Vid Street Cred: Jewfro69man

AND FUCK YOU WORDPRESS!

YOU Arbitrary-illy

PUT MY PROSE WHEREVER THE FUCK YOU FIND IT

‘CONENVIENT’

FUCK Am I PAYING You For??

To Fuck Me?

Without Even a Kiss First?

**************

Bonus:

Serverely Out of Context

And Unrelated

But This is

How

I Roll

Hahahahahaha!

*******

Camila Cabello:

Hey
Havana, ooh na-na (ayy)
Half of my heart is in Havana, ooh na-na (ayy, ayy)

He took me back to East Atlanta, na-na-na, ah
Oh, but my heart is in Havana (ayy)
There’s somethin’ ’bout his manners (uh-huh)
Havana, ooh-na-na (uh)

Long Version:

All The Leaves Are Brown And My Sky is Gray

I have spent a great portion of my life living in California.

First with my Mom back in the Sixties and then Later (Mid 80’s) When I was a Sailor Stationed in San Diego.

I have always loved Cali (Of Course not as I LOVE Texas, But Love California I did.)

So it is with a Heavy Heart That I Post this Post.

The California That I loved so Much is Dead to me Now.

And So glad I ‘escaped’ before She Tuned to Literal Shite.

I’d like to hang onto my GOOD Memories of California–All the Times Mom and I would go to San Francisco, Santa Cruz,

And of course

Haight-Ashbury

And 39613 Bruning Street

Michelle Phillips is such a petite, beautiful lady.

Love You Cass Elliot et al–Wonderful Talent in This Group

What Would You Say Now Joni?

Dearest Joni, Pretty sure California has broken your Heart as it has mine. I love you Joni for this magical Song–and for ALL of your Magical Songs–You are such an important part of my life. And you will always remain, holding a very special place in my heart.

Until Death do us part. I hope I go first. I do not wish to live in a world without you, Joni Mitchell

*****

Moving on–My fawning desire over Joni, for now, sated

(But trust me: It will resurface, and probably much sooner than later)

*******

And this Saddens Me. Me, The Eternal Cock-Eyed Optimist, But Some things Are Perma-Broken and I see no Chance of Fixing Them Anytime soon:

Agnetha! Please! I’ll Wait!

Take a Chance on Me!

I will worship You!

Every Day!

You will be my

QUEEN!

My Dancing One!

And That ‘Other’ One

****

This Vid NEVER Grows Old for Me.

(And I am an ‘Old Fuck!’)

Can’t take my eyes off of you… Agnetha!

“You’re just too good to be true!”

“I love you Baby!”

(Yeah, I am in Possession of fantasies)

I’d eat a mile of your s…

Just to see where it came from.

(‘Lance you’re disgusting!’)

Yes. I know.

Disgustingly Honest!

Sue me!

But LOVE ME!

*******************

Mamma!

Me!

Ahhhh!

*********

“Super-Duper-Storm-Trouper-Group”

Does not EVEN Come Close as a Valid Descriptor.

These Four changed my life.

(For the much better)

And Forever!

Back in ‘79

While in Sinai!

Oops! I fucked up the link!

Try this one!

A Desert!

But once I Discovered ABBA, I found myself residing in

‘The Garden of Eden.’

And my life was enriched.

Forever!

I will never be able to express…

How much

They impressed!

(And the)

Happiness they gave

To save!

Me!

And right at about that time…

Nickel an’ dime…

Was the time… I needed saving the most.

ABBA saved me from me.

Thank You ABBA!

Thank You!

“Thanks, Thanks, And Ever Thanks!

I still will, Always Love You,

Agnetha,

Even if you are old

(and perhaps somewhat Gray)

Now...

You are STILL Beautiful!

Shit!

We are ALL OLD NOW!

But…

We MADE The Seventies!

Unforgettable

Unregrettable!

P.S.,

The ABBA Girls Are

JUST TOO HAPPY

In This!

They LOVE Their Work!

And This IS ….

Precisely Why…

All The Reasons Why….

I love

THEM!

************

Yeah!

Lance is Revisiting

DRUNK

en-ness

You Go Get ’em Nessy!

Get Messy!

*******

Sorry Kids!

Had to!

(The Perfection Woman!)

********

Sorry Folks!

But this was a ‘Had To!’

‘A Must Do!’

*****

First ‘version’

Of this (above)

Would NOT load.

(Up-Loader Tagged it: ‘Private!’)

I had to respond:

“Hey! Asshole!

There is Nada ‘Private’…

… On The Internet!

Now Go and fuck your Private Self!.”

*****

Added—In–I’m Dumb:

But I have one final point to make.

The choreography on the ‘Dancing Queen’ performance is just

Fukking Magical!

I love how the girls sing at each other face-to-face and then suddenly sing back-to-back.

Don’t think I have ever seen that done before or since.

It works so well!

Perfection Stage Presence!

Lightning Captured In A Bottle!

And ‘Captured’ On My Computer Hard-Drive—For All Time.

(Yes! I have ‘Back-Ups’)

–I am a Computer Nerd.

Remember?

***

Bonus:

Somehow Related

Vid Cred: Wat Bradford