“I Got Dem Ol’ Time Turtle Blues Again Mama!” (Apologies to Janis Joplin)

Yet another bit gleaned from my longer post of 29 Jan 2014. 

“‘The Time Has Come,’ The Walrus Said, ‘To Talk of Many Things:

Of Murdered Birds, Of Turtles Green, and Hippies Sellin’ Rings.’”

My mother was probably

“The Original Hippy Chick.”

When Haight-Ashbury was in full bloom, she would not shut up about it until we ventured there.

(Just the two of us. By Ourselves. Mother and Child–You could do that in ’67–No Worries. Don’t try it today. Please Don’t try it today.)

I knew a little of the ‘Hippy Culture’ back then, yet had no desire to experience it ‘up close an’ personal.’

Mom did.

I MISS HER.
I Miss My Mother
I MISS HER FREE SPIRIT

So one bright sunny Saturday morning we packed up the Ol’ Rusty Rambler and headed off to ‘Frisco and Haight-Ashbury.

Okay. Not Really Our ACTUAL Car

But close. Damn close.

To say that trip opened my eyes would be an understatement bordering on felonious.  I was shocked, awed, amazed, bothered, bewildered, enlightened, enchanted, enthralled, and all at the same time.

The whole day was a ‘Whirling Dervish’ of attacks on my senses and emotions. I remember clearly all the people with their long hair, colorful clothing, love beads, head bands, peace signs, guitars, laughter, and smoke coming from everywhere and not smelling at all like the smoke from the cigarettes my mother used to light up.

But most of all, I remember

The Music 

Music was ubiquitous and oh how I did love the music.

We walked up and down those streets for hours and I do believe my mother stopped and purchased some trinket from every single hippy-trinket-seller she visited, which by my estimation, would have been all of two hundred of them.

Not really being a trinkets-man myself, I purchased a pair of small green turtles that I wanted to rescue from a hippy life I was certain they were not well suited for. 

I actually remember telling the turtles during the ride home not to worry; that they were safe now, and also apologizing to them if I had left any of their family members behind due to the fact that my meager allowance did not afford me the luxury of benevolence to purchase freedom for the whole lot of them–Even though I did beg mom for an advance to do just that.

The turtles ended up having a fine long Turtle – Life and were probably the only two green turtles to ever migrate from 

California

 

to

Texas

Texas suited them and me, better. Much better.

Author’s Note: I am a NATIVE Texan. Born in Ladonia, 1957

(Wasn’t MY fault I was forced to live in California for too many years.)

***

As Always, Thank you for visiting and reading. All comments are welcomed.

Wishing Happy Days Ahead to all My Friends.

***

Bonus Added

Added Bonus:

“But you know I’m very well protected –

I know this goddamn life too well.”

***

“Yeah, but I’m gonna take good care of

(Insert your name here)

Yeah,

Honey, ain’t no one gonna dog me down.

Alright, yeah.”

Video Credit:

https://www.youtube.com/user/pridden76

Shonnie The Biker’s Wife: “This is (NOT) The End” or “I Heard You Been Layin’ My Old Lady”

I Heard You’ve Been Layin’ My Old Lady

Song By Rusty Wier, NATIVE TEXAN

Street Cred for Vid: HuckToohey

***

The three Harleys were gaining on me as I sped southbound down Interstate Five. It was still dark and the traffic was light. I floored the pedal on the Toranado but I knew they would eventually catch up to me.

My speedometer redlined at one hundred and I took another hurried glance at the rearview: still gaining fast. Where the hell were the famous CHiPs? For the absolute first time in my life, I wanted to get busted.

One biker managed to pull up alongside me on the passenger side. I swerved to the right just a bit to try to spook him. No dice! He easily dodged my quarter panel and I caught a brief glimpse of his grinning face, mocking me. (bikers never wore helmets) 

The two remaining bikes pulled up behind him. I was running out of options. Should I just continue on until I ran out of freeway or gas? Hope a highway patrol finally spotted us? Surrender?

I stole another glance in my side mirror and could just barely make out the third biker taking aim at my car with a handgun, rather unsteadily given our speed, but I braced for the worst, then BAM!

***

I awoke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed. The alarm was wailing away. Shonnie stirred and moaned, “What time…? uuugghhhhh.”

I reached over Shonnie to kill the alarm and knocked it off the nightstand. “Shit!” Had to crawl over her to grab the damn thing and turn it off. “It’s five-thirty,” I said.

“Ohhh too early,” she moaned again, pulling the covers over her head.

“Go back to sleep.”

She sat up, stretching her arms upward and yawning. “No. I’ll make you some coffee,”

“Got no time for that. I gotta get back to my ship. Muster’s at zero-seven.”

“It’ll just take a minute,” she said as she extracted her naked body from the covers.

“Okay, but a minute is about all I have.”

I got out of bed and put on my jeans. Shonnie threw on her robe and disappeared downstairs. I went into the head and splashed some cold water on my face, trying to shock the dream out of my mind.

Just as I finished struggling to get into my too-tight boots, I heard the kettle whistling downstairs. Making sure I had my wallet and military ID, I descended to the kitchen to join Shonnie. She handed me a cup and I took a quick sip.

“Good coffee,” I said.

“You’re welcome Cowboy.”

“You sleep alright? I asked.

“Yeah, sorta, but you were snoring and moaning ‘till all hours.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. Look, I gotta split. I wanna beat the traffic. My Master Chief don’t have a sense of humor about being late for muster.” I handed her the still mostly full cup of coffee.

She set it on the counter, threw her arms around my neck clinging tight, pulling me down and kissing me passionately. She withdrew her lips but kept my neck locked tight. “Oh Rhett! When will Ah evah see you again?”

I reached up and gently pulled her hands free and said, “Very funny Scarlett. I’ll call you this evening, but now I gotta go.”

“Okay, Darlin’, lemme walk you out.”

We walked over to the front door holding hands. I opened it. Shonnie let out a gasp. “Oh no,” she said.

“What is it?”

“Look there,” she said pointing down at the deck.

There was a white sack about a yard from the front door. It had the unmistakable mark of McDonald’s on it. I took a step outside, picked it up, turned to Shonnie and said, “What the fuc…”

“Come back inside. Hurry up,” she said in a ‘loud’ whisper.

I went back in and she shut the door, locking it with a loud click. “It’s Billy.”

“Billy?”

“My husband, you idiot.”

“Sorry. You never did tell me his name.”

“You never asked.”

Still clutching the sack in my hand, I opened it up and discovered two large coffees and two pastries.

“Give me that!” she said, almost shouting as she grabbed the sack out of my hand. “Look! This fuckin’ coffee’s still hot. He must’ve just been here.” She was visibly shaking.

“Quite the gentleman to deliver breakfast, doncha think?”

“Goddamn it Lance! This shit ain’t funny!”

“Well, what the hell do you expect from a smartass?”

“You can’t leave now,” she said as she walked over and slumped down into an overstuffed chair. She dropped the bag on the floor. The coffee almost tipped over onto the carpet.

“Seriously? Will he try to hurt you if I go?”

“No… not right away anyhow. It’s you… You! He’ll be after you! Dammit to Fuck!”

“Baby, I got no choice. I’d rather face ‘Billy’ than try to explain to Master Chief why I’m UA.”

She stared at me blankly for a moment as if I had just said something in Swahili. “Whaaat?”

“Uh ‘UA’. Unauthorized Absence. ‘Ay-Wall’. You know.”

“Fuck that! If you leave here now, you might be ‘A-WOLL’ permanent.”

“Well, I doubt it, but anyway I gotta go.” I turned and walked back toward the door. “I’ll call you this evening. Lock the door behind me.”

“Okay,” she sighed, getting up. As I was about to open the door she spun me around and hugged me, burying her face in my chest. “Be safe Lance.”

“You too Baby.”

I opened the door and walked out. Shonnie shut it behind me and I heard the click as she turned the deadbolt.

My car was parked almost a block away from the condo. It was still an hour before sunrise but the streetlights, though not bright, afforded enough light for me to make my way without any difficulty.

I slowly walked toward the Toranado. I was glancing left and right, trying to see into the shadows, hoping I would see no one. My shoulders were tight and I wondered if they would suddenly be pierced by a round from a hand gun.

I kept walking and looking. ‘Situational Awareness’. Almost there now. The Toranado was parked directly under a street light. Shit! I would have preferred a darker venue for getting into my car. Oh well. I fumbled around for my keys, unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel.

I twisted the key in the ignition and the engine turned over a few times more than normal, but finally caught hold. The cassette player was still cranked up and in the early morning quiet seemed extremely loud. I quickly reached over and shut down Rusty Wier in the middle of ‘The Devil Lives In Dallas.’

Proving once again that my life has a soundtrack…

Street Cred for Vid: Neil Wilkins

***

The car was facing the opposite direction I needed to go. I had to pull forward into an empty driveway, back up and get turned about. Back in the street and facing the right direction, I dropped the car into drive.

Then I heard the unmistakable sound of a Harley cranking up and the throttle revving.

***

This Is NOT The END

***

Previously:

Coming Soon:

“Shonnie The Biker’s Wife: Denouement”

Update: Part XV is up.

***

If you are new here, or a long-lost returning Pilgrim, you may want to begin your Shonnie Journey Below

And then simply “Follow the Yellow Brick Road” i.e., The Lancelot Links:

***

Comments below from the original version of this post.

Please read from the bottom up for continuity.

36 THOUGHTS ON “SHONNIE THE BIKER’S WIFE: THIS IS THE (NOT) THE END”

LAMarcom July 21, 2014 at 18:10 Edit

All’s well that ends well…

Cheers!

NancyTex July 21, 2014 at 08:49 Edit

Scary shit. Almost afraid to click on the final installment.

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 16:13 Edit

🙂

artourway July 16, 2014 at 16:12 Edit

so glad to have you as my friend Lance

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 16:06 Edit

Toda rabah תודה רבה

That’s Hebrew for ‘Thank you!’

I did learn just enough to get me into trouble when I was working in that part of the world.

😉

artourway July 16, 2014 at 15:57 Edit

I admire your writing Lance.

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 15:23 Edit

Dreams?

I really need to work on my French.

🙂

Thank you my friend.

artourway July 16, 2014 at 14:39 Edit

Vous rêves sont parfois si réels, cool Lance

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 13:06 Edit

Hehehe…

The ‘really end of the end’ should go up late this evening.

I do appreciate your taking time to read this story and comment.

Cheers!

-Lance

LVital7019 July 16, 2014 at 12:59 Edit

THAT was a shameless TEASE! “The End” but not really the end!?? Grrr… LOL

lauramacky July 16, 2014 at 11:54 Edit

Whew! You’re welcome 🙂

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:36 Edit

Okay.

Denouement will be forthcoming.

This is why I love blogging: the feedback and great conversation.

Thanks so much Laura!

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:32 Edit

I must confess, I have never seen ‘Paris Texas.’ Although it has been on my ‘to watch’ list for some decades. After viewing the clip I have moved it way up that list and will watch it this weekend if not before. It definitely looks like a film I would love. So…thanks so much for provided the impetus to get me to it.

I took a peek at the USHypocrisy site and loved it. Now following. And I will show it to my English girlfriend. She will love it too, no doubt.

Win-Win all around!

Merci!

lauramacky July 16, 2014 at 10:30 Edit

Exactly! It needs that good end. We are left to wodner although not too much since you’re still alive ‘n kicking! lol

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:20 Edit

Pretty sure you didn’t miss anything. It is most likely my failing. Perhaps I do need to provide the denouement?

😉

lauramacky July 16, 2014 at 10:18 Edit

Well I for one would like to know what happened after the harley sound. 🙂

lauramacky July 16, 2014 at 10:17 Edit

That’s the end? Did I miss something??

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:14 Edit

Breathe Laura, just breathe.

That is the end of the story….

(Please see comments below)

Of course if blowback comes, I will post an addendum or ‘post a postscript,’ if you will….)

Thanks so much for reading along on this one and also for your comments.

Cheers,

-Lance

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:10 Edit

Hahaha!

Now that’s funny!

Perfect comment. Thanks for making me laugh out loud.

Cheers to you David!

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:08 Edit

Thanks so much Diana.

🙂

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 10:07 Edit

Actually Heathen, I had not planned to continue the story. This was to be The End, but rest assured, no harm came to Shonnie. If I get pushback to post a postscript, I will do that. However… I think it’s time for me to move on to other tales.

Your thoughts?

Thanks for riding along on this series. I do appreciate your time and as I have said before, your comments enrich my efforts.

Cheers Friend.

lauramacky July 16, 2014 at 09:51 Edit

The suspense is killing me!

David Scott Moyer July 16, 2014 at 08:05 Edit

I wanted him to pull up along side you and say, “You forgot your hat, bro.”

Diana July 16, 2014 at 06:15 Edit

Great job Lance!

happierheathen July 16, 2014 at 05:35 Edit

I’m glad it came out in the comments that it was her decision that you’d never see her again, as otherwise I’d have to hire a guy to kick down your door and be only as nice as possible while extracting that bit of information. I hope the rest of the story doesn’t include her being harmed.

I’m just now thinking how lucky I am that the only woman I ever regretted losing eventually found her way back. Thanks for telling a story that catalyzed such a fine thought in this contraption I generously refer to as my brain, man.

Mélanie July 16, 2014 at 03:50 Edit

P.S. Lance, if you ever have some spare minutes, please take a look @ this interesting and realistic blog: http://ushypocrisy.com/

Mélanie July 16, 2014 at 03:26 Edit

I meant… amigo, Lance! 🙂 you must be proud and honored by your native American heritage/roots/origins…

@Paris, Texas and their fake and kitch Tour Eiffel: you have to see it, to believe it and I did! 😀 btw, have you watched this film-culte(here in “old Europe”!) with excellent actors:

LAMarcom July 16, 2014 at 00:40 Edit

‘Gringo?!?!

Laughing my ass off.

(I invite you to know that I am part Comanche)

Just the best part…

P.S. I grew up twenty miles from Paris (Texas). I hated that town then; and still do.

Mélanie July 16, 2014 at 00:34 Edit

yesss! excellent job, Sir! last but not least: I love the Doors and I did see Jim Morrison’s tomb in “Père-Lachaise”, Paris, France(not Tejas!) – always with lots of flowers…

buenas noches, gringo! 🙂

LAMarcom July 15, 2014 at 23:31 Edit

Hahaha!

Sadie,

We both may be slightly inebriated…

It happens.

🙂

LAMarcom July 15, 2014 at 23:29 Edit

Tis okay. I got it.

Hahahaha

Cheers,

Lancer

LAMarcom July 15, 2014 at 23:28 Edit

To quote Joni at you Sadie:

“You are a woman of heart and mind.”

Thank you ever so much for all your wonderful comments.

Sincerely, they mean a lot to me.

Cheers, beers, and Tequila,

Lance

~ Sadie ~ July 15, 2014 at 23:26 Edit

Crap – that is not where that comment was supposed to go 🙂 It was in response to yours – I am tired. Obviously need to go to bed LOL!!

Loading…

~ Sadie ~ July 15, 2014 at 23:25 Edit

Thanks for sharing – you wrote about your bittersweet memories in such a beautiful way – great writing, storytelling, dialogue & suspense-building! I love reading your true tales. Shit, I’d be too scared to write about some of mine . . . 😉

Tears and beers (though mine is always tears & tequila!!) – proof you are alive sometimes!!

Have a great evening, Lance!!

LAMarcom July 15, 2014 at 22:40 Edit

Sadie,

My Good Friend,

I needed to end this. Yes there is more to the story, but it mostly involves tears and beers, and I do not think anyone would read that part.

I choose to end it here.

Obviously, I survived as did Shonnie and I never saw her again (her decision), but…hey! C’est La Vie, eh?

Thank you for reading this too long diatribe…er… history.

It is all truth, by the way.

Cheers,

Lance

~ Sadie ~ July 15, 2014 at 22:35 Edit

For some reason, I don’t get the impression that this was the end . . .

My best friend growing up was a Harley girl and as teenagers we hung out occasionally with a couple of Bandidos (well she did, I just tagged along) – bikers aint exactly of the ilk to be too kind about other men & their women – especially their wives.

And YES they do have an unmistakable sound!!

Great piece Lance!! (And LOVE the Doors!! 😉 )

My TRUE Forever Sister (Sorry Ann)

“One Day, You’ll Be cool.”

Said Madelyn to Lance

****

I wanted to post this polished

(And slightly edited)

But, once again,

WordPress is being

STUPID!

So…

What you see

Is what you get!

I cannot edit the Goddamn thing!

I’ll come back to this if I find ‘sober.’

(Don’t set your watch–and do not hold your breath– may be a little minute or five)

Madelyn died a week ago.

I just found out today

(Not on speaking terms with my ‘Family—wonder why)

Had the un-happy news delivered to me in a fucking Facebook Post!

Imagine how I then proceeded to spin out of control!

I LOVED My Adopted Sister!

More than anyone could know.

(Especially HER!)

I never told her!

I should have!

And EVERY-FUCKING DAY!

Alas

I didn’t

EVER!

Fuck me!

Now she is dead.

And I cannot tell her how much I did truly love her.

Some snippets:

Madelyn & Me!

She ‘Maria’ to My ‘Cap’n Von Trapp’

“Sound of Music” HS Play: Circa 1974

(Script demanded we ‘kiss’—never did during rehearsals—but we ‘practiced’ at home.) 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!)

Memories of my B’loved Sister Madelyn:

“My step-sister signed up for that too. She gots tons of LP’s. (Most sucked in my opinion). Then she could not pay the bill for the ones that kept coming. My Father had to bail her out, but that was OK: She was “Daddy’s Little Hippie Princess.” If I had pulled a stunt like that, I would have become an indentured servant for some years to pay it off.

(Do I sound bitter? Have issues?)

Naw.

Hahahah!

Cheers and Happy Friday to you my Friend.”

*****

I loved Madelyn. I really loved her!

And now she’s gone.

Forever.

For Fucking Ever!

There is NO God!

Madelyn & Me!

Memories of my B’loved Sister Madelyn:

“My step-sister signed up for that too.

She gots tons of LP’s. (Most sucked in my opinion). Then she could not pay the bill for the ones that kept coming.

My Father had to bail her out, but that was OK: She was “Daddy’s Little Hippie Princess.”

If I had pulled a stunt like that, I would have become an indentured servant for some years to pay it off.(Do I sound bitter? Have issues?)

Naw.Hahahah!Cheers and Happy Friday to you my Friend.”

*****

I loved Madelyn. I really loved her!And now she’s gone.

Forever.

For Fucking Ever!

There is NO God!

Not one that I could/would/care to recognize anyway.

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

Fuck all This!

And fuck WordPress!

And FUCK WRITING!

“I’ll not write another line!”

Pass the fucking tea and sympathy!

For SHIT-Sure to be continued….

And

“Pass me a cigarette; I think there’s one in my raincoat.”

I am too Stupid to Figure Out How to Reblog One of My Own Posts.

(And Normally I would NOT Want To.)

But This Is TEXAS INDEPENDENCE DAY!

So I had to attempt a work-around.

Recently in TEXAS:

WHAT A MISERY!

Richardson,

Texas

Commerce, Texas–short time ago (Where I am Hangin’ MY Hat)

Home of TAMU-Commerce

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

I am curious to Discover if ‘THIS’ Works.

I give it FIFTY-FIFTY.

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

Below is The Expanded,

Better Version.

‘J’espère.’

(I hope)

FOOTBALL! The Stuff That Makes Dreams

“Welcome to The Real America.”

I was Born in Texas.

I grew up in Texas.

This is my fault.

However…

This is (Above) THE BEST Television Show About Growing Up Texan That Ever Was,

Or Ever Will Be.

Case Rested.

Believe it not, I lived this life.

I grew up, immersed in this culture.

Ass-Deep.

And I loved every second/minute of it!

Will never lose those memories.

TEXAS!

Texas!

Texas FOREVER!

Now!

And Forever!

Y’all!

Vid Compilation/Share Credit: Chris Spags. Orig Vid: K. Ryan Jones

Clear Eyes

Full Hearts

TEXAS!

Forever!

*****

Late Entry:

I wanna be Tim Riggins.

Shit! I WAS Tim Riggins.

Still Am Tim Riggins.

Conceited conceit?

Yep.

But Truth.

“I’m happy, and I can honestly say that.”

–TR/LM

(Vid compilation Credit: Nic Ignite)

Birth of a Writer, Via a Football Coach—Ludicrous—I Know, But A True Story.

Young writer searching inspiration, with an old typewriter.

No one cares about your novel!!!

Sitting in a classroom.

Football Coach at the helm.

Year: 1974

Assignment: Write an essay.

I was, back then, a better middle linebacker than I was a ‘writer’

But, what the hell!

I gave it a go.

Tried to anyway.

Sat at my desk, pen in hand, staring at a blank page.

For two minutes.

Then something magical happened:

Very, very Young Muse

Touched me

(Yep, Same One Who is Still With Me, all these years later)

She was, of course, younger, and Prettier, but then again, so was I.

Some ‘Magic’ Happened.

I started writing.

Wrote a long story about a young soldier serving in ‘The Nam.’

He was ‘short’, — Meaning he had just one more week ‘till he got to ride that ‘Freedom-Bird’ back to ‘The World.’ The land of the Big PX and the ‘All-Night Restaurant.’

He was Happy.

But, one last order of business:

One more routine patrol.

No worries—He had been there, done that, too many times to even think on.

He geared up with his platoon.

Day-Dreams flooded his mind.

Dreaming of his young, beautiful, wonderful wife

Dreaming of his farm in Texas

Dreaming of fishing for trash fish in the ponds on his land

Dreaming of how his wife would laugh at him for being such a lousy fisherman

Dreaming of just going to a Texas Bar and ordering a ‘Lone Star’ beer

Dreaming more and more of kissing his wife

****

“Move out!”

(Shattered his dreamy state)

The Platoon was ‘on-the-move’ now.

Pretty much routine, far as that goes.

Began routine enough

Walking down a path, M-16 at the ready.

Looking left, looking right.

Quiet.

Then

Fire!

Firefight!

Ambush!

Pandemonium!

He caught one in the chest.

And got busy with his dying.

Lying on the floor of the jungle, he managed to pull the photo of his childhood sweetheart, his wife, his LOVE out from beneath his flak jacket.

He regarded it, gazed at it, put it to his lips and kissed it.

Then he died.

*****

I handed in my paper when prompted.

Coach read all the submissions as we all departed for lunch.

Came back to Home-Room after lunch.

Coach said,

“Y’all did real good with your writing assignment. I am gonna read one of them.”

Coach read my story to the class.

Then he said, “I never knew Lance could write. He is just average as a linebacker, but as a writer, he is good.”

Did I give a shit for his praise?

Nope.

Remember, I was an asshole back then.

Still Am.

That was a ‘Red-Letter-Day’ in my ‘Writing Career.’

However, I had a football career to attend to:

“Go! Honey Grove Warriors!

Beat Cooper!

I love My Texas!

The HG Warriors Stole this as our ‘Fight Song,’ as most every other School-Boy Texan HS Football Team did back in The Day. We were all so very Proud of Our Texas Longhorns!

They kicked some serious ass back in those bye-gone days

Knowing full well that the Dixie Chicks can still bring out ire and even bona-fide rage in some folks, I drop this in anyway.

I did not, never did, will never, agree with Natalie’s politics.

HOWEVER, 

I stood by her then and I stand by her now.

I have spilled a lot of virtual ink on these Gals

She is, in my not humble opinion, a prime example of the Quintessential Texan Woman:

Outspoken

Brave

Fearless

Loud & Proud

(And Gorgeous too! LOL)

“Nat, You GO Girl! I have your back!”  

(Love You Emily!–Marry Me?)

PLEASE.

I’d Stop drinking for You–But Only For You.

There is too much Nat in this Vid and not nearly enough Emily!

Just Sing, But Never Shut Up! This is Still a Free Country

P.S., I won’t lie (I do not write Fiction)

I never got shot at while in The Nav, well, maybe a little, by Dem Iranians,

While ‘Independent Steaming in the Northern ‘Moist’ Part of the IO.

But I did get shot up,years later, as a Civilian,

Just outside of Fallujah.

Fallujah.

That was my Baptism of Fire.

I saw my entire life replayed in my head that day.

In an instant

Cheers!

Hey! Fuck You WordPress!

You are lame!

There’s My Trouble.

With You