Fuk Me to Beers! The Best Peeps I Met, I Met In Re-HaBab Whatever! None of Us Could spel for shit! Poem For “Ethel”–Fake Name–UBH: Interlude

Or….

Why is the rum gone?

 

 

Black Hair

Black Eyes

Bright Smile

Great Thighs

Wily Words From Her Mouth

Gave No Pause

Left No Doubt

Words Delivered With Such Charm

Better Watch Out

You’ll Be Disarmed

Your Walls Came Crashing Down

Your Weapons On The Ground

She Was Standing There

(Laughing At My Folly)

Laughing Everywhere

You May As Well Surrender Right There

Taking Me Aside, She Said

“I’ll Never Be Your Bride.

“But You Knew This All Along.”

She Left Me With A Song

And Made Me Smile Again

Then Left Me With a Fact:

“I Cheats At Blackjack”

 

(Inside Joke—Will Elaborate On This In A Future Post As We Delve Deeper Into This Odyssey)

“A Broad River Divides My Lovers: As Unchangeable As Nature.”

Best Carly Song Ever NOT Written by Kris Kristofferson. I misspoke.

Here is the one I meant (Written by Kris):

Sade! Take me Away!

I am reposting this simply because I want her to see it. I don’t even know if she has a computer “Simply For Cynthia (Esoteric Post—Don’t Bother)” She is about to drive me to the booze store (I asked if she would—I won’t drive drunk—don’t wanna acidrntally kill some innocent one. Cynthia said she would drive me in my car–she don’t have a car. She is such ‘good people’. I love her!

Song Dedicated to My Cynthia.
She works her butt off, looking out for all the inmates here @ Lion’s Den.

She is My Guardian Angel in Disguise.
I do not want to live in a world without her, now that I’ve found her.
And she me…

*****

I had a package delivery today
My neck collar/embracement
But more important:
Thank You Cards—Blank
I filled out three:

One for that dude who helped me into my house last week

One for Deb, The Warden.

And of course one for, the main one of course … for Cynthia, The Walking Boss.

I shouted her down as she was making her rounds.

Asked her to deliver my cards. Then gave her hers.
She threw her arms about my neck.

(We do not wear WuFlu Face Diapers in Texas)

While Locked in her embrace I said, “You know I love you.”
She said, “I love you more.”

Then she untangled she from me and walked away.

I watched

****


Fun Fact: Donna Married two, count ’em, two, White Boys.
Maybe there is hope for me!
Alas, but she be dead…

And Hopefully in Heaven.

If there exists such a place.

******

Just for fun, for all you folks out there in

‘Radio Land’

A Little ‘Bonus’ Content:
(Are you ‘Content?’)
I know I am.

******

Beautiful, Wondrous Lady!

Donna!

And My Girl:

Cynthia

My Girl! (In my dreams)

My Mind Has Left the Building! Bye Bye Mind! Happy Trails! (And Once Again: Word-Depressed Screwed Up My Edit!) “Hey WordPress Go GET Wrecked!”

******

“Look What They Done To My Brain”

Street Cred for Vid: amonem

******

Fuck You Bob!

(Ed Note: This Post is Becoming more and more about Melanie, and less and less about Dylan. My Original intent was to do a Dylan Bit. I Got Distracted)

The more I discover about this woman, the more I fall in fantasy love with her.

She is so fucking charming.

She captivates and fascinates.

My God! But she is a beautiful woman!
“Mel, why did I NOT ever run into you?

I would have roo’d/woo’d you.”
(Or tried to)

Street Cred for Vid: Navegantadelanave

*****

Would have given my best shot anyhow. (Such as that would’ve been at the time–my attention span was brief, but for you, I would have taken my time.

And worked ‘The Problem’ I had with my infatuation)

“I wish I could find a good book to live in.”

–Melanie

(Actually I have one. It is entitled “The Complete Works of Shakespeare.”) I am gonna live there.

Current state of “Lance Mind:”

****

Hollis Brown

He lived on the outside of town

Hollis Brown

He lived on the outside of town

With his wife and five children

And his cabin fallin’ down

You looked for work and money

And you walked a rugged mile

You looked for work and money

And you walked a rugged mile

Your children are so hungry

That they don’t know how to smile

Your baby’s eyes look crazy

They’re a-tuggin’ at your sleeve

Your baby’s eyes look crazy

They’re a-tuggin’ at your sleeve

You walk the floor and wonder why

With every breath you breathe

The rats have got your flour

Bad blood it got your mare

The rats have got your flour

Bad blood it got your mare

If there’s anyone that knows

Is there anyone that cares?

You prayed to the Lord above

Oh please send you a friend

You prayed to the Lord above

Oh please send you a friend

Your empty pockets tell yuh

That you ain’t a-got no friend

Your babies are crying louder

It’s pounding on your brain

Your babies are crying louder

It’s pounding on your brain

Your wife’s screams are stabbin’ you

Like the dirty drivin’ rain

Your grass it is turning black

There’s no water in your well

Your grass is turning black

There’s no water in your well

You spent your last lone dollar

On seven shotgun shells

Way out in the wilderness

A cold coyote calls

Way out in the wilderness

A cold coyote calls

Your eyes fix on the shotgun

That’s hangin’ on the wall

Your brain is a-bleedin’

And your legs can’t seem to stand

Your brain is a-bleedin’

And your legs can’t seem to stand

Your eyes fix on the shotgun

That you’re holdin’ in your hand

There’s seven breezes a-blowin’

All around the cabin door

There’s seven breezes a-blowin’

All around the cabin door

Seven shots ring out

Like the ocean’s pounding roar

There’s seven people dead

On a South Dakota farm

There’s seven people dead

On a South Dakota farm

Somewhere in the distance

There’s seven new people born

****

I still hang onto hope for humanity.

Just a little humanity.

I am Reposting This For My Dead Sister: She Will Read It. In Heaven Which, if There is Such a Place, Is Where She Belongs You Don’t Need To… Read This. It is Only For Her. “Janis Ian handed my ass to me.”

I said, “Do you wish me dead?”

Lip service to books you’ve read

Articles on how to bed a bird in flight

You called it love

I called it greed

You say, “You take what you want”

I said, “You get what you need”

Go on, be a hero, be a man

Make your own destiny if you can

Go find a fence

Locate a shell

And hide yourself, go on, go to hell!

Go away from me

I need no charity

Janis Ian handed my ass to me.

I deserved this.

(Because I am an asshole but had temporarily misplaced my ass.)

Janis returned it to me with not-so-well wishes.

I should have learned the truth at seventeen. But I didn’t. I am still studying and yet I remain optimistic for the future. Someday I just may become a real gentle…man

***

Janis Ian Message to me (on Facebook):

“Lance Marcom uh… I have no idea why you took off at me like that. I said people could share because inevitably, people post on threads asking if they can share. And I’m sorry if you were “triggered ” by my offer, but if offering the option to share some thoughts written by a very dear friend of mine – who by the way is not having a great year, and certainly has more urgent things to do with his time than the way you just spent yours – caused your upset… well then, take your triggered self somewhere else. If you’re that big a “fan”, you’d know how little I think of people who use “triggered ” as an excuse, or profanity as an attempt at English.

As to telling you to “fuck off” years ago, apparently I didn’t make myself clear enough at the time, though as you admit, I didn’t say that. However, your over the top responses and insults to everyone who responded show your self-pitying true self.

Apologies mean nothing if you’ve understood nothing, Lance. Apologies mean nothing if you’ve learned nothing. And it really is time for you to take your very sensitive triggered self and work on fixing your life, instead of interfering with mine.”

***

 (After reading her proper ‘dress-down’, I retired to my “stupid corner” opened a can of worms and ate all of them–in shame)

“When payment due exceeds accounts received.”

I will always love you Janis.

You are a beautiful, brilliant, brilliant songwriter and performer.

******

“Don’t spoil it all; I can’t recall a time when you were struck without an answer.”

–Janis

“And For a dime I can talk to God.

Dial a Prayer…

Are You There?

Do You Care?

Are You There?”

–Janis

Just Some More Patriot Navy Shit! It’s My Blog and I’ll Spam If I Want To! “She’s Not Here”

NAVY CLUB of the United State of America MILITARY EXCELLENCE Award

“Presented to the graduating recruit who best exemplifies the qualities of enthusiasm, devotion to duty, military appearance and behavior, self-discipline and teamwork.”

This was the highest honor any recruit could be awarded.

I won that sucker in ‘85.

Before I went to Boot Camp, aka in Naval Parlance, “Recruit Training” my recruiter told my wife:

Great mistakes“Hey, If Lance wins this award, The Navy will pay for your plane ticket and lodging at Great Lakes Naval Recruit Center so you may see Lance graduate. But of course, it is very unlikely he will win. I mean the odds are against it, but who knows? Lance has scored the best on his ASVAB and he looks to be squared-away.” Blah Blah Blah.

My wife was an Army Reserve Vet, a Non-Com in the U.S. Army Reserve, and for her day job, a probation officer. She should have smelled bullshit. So should I. But neither one of us did. We were poor. I promised her before I left for Boot Camp:

“Janet, I am gonna win that award and you are gonna be so proud of me. The Navy will fly you to Chicago and we will be together before I ship out to SEAL training. Don’t worry: the Navy is an honorable service. They cannot make these claims if they are not true.”

She put me on the plane and I headed off to Great Lakes RTC (Recruit Training Center). I arrived at 0400hrs and somewhat scared shitless, even though I was twenty-seven and a veteran of one war zone already (see SFM). But I had seen too many movies and I knew my next nine weeks would ‘test’ me.

 

About 0500hrs, just after I had reached that REM status, some asshole threw a shit can (55 gal. trash can) down the middle of the barracks.

“Clang Clang! Bounce! Clang! Fucking CLANG!”

“Wake the fuck up Gentlemen! Welcome to the US Navy! Get your asses outta your racks! Spit and Shine! Fall the Fuck OUT! Do it! Do it now! Line the fuck up in front of yer racks!”

(Just like in the movies.)

******

Every morning for the next few weeks it was like this. Never enough time to piss, take a drink of water, take a shit, take a shower, eat, think, miss home. Never time for anything, except learning how to fold our skivvies.

This is what I signed on for? For Fuck sake. My CC (Company Commander) was twenty-four years old. I was twenty-seven. Do I really need this shit? Well, ‘Call me Ishmael’. You do what you must. I had to endure long enough to get to SEAL training: Then surely my REAL Naval Career could begin. (BUD/s)

Somewhere about week six of boot camp, my CC informed me that he had nominated me for the Naval Club of the U.S. Military Excellence Award.

“Sir! Yes Sir! Excuse me Sir! But Sir! What the fuck is that?”

(We were encouraged to use profanity—meant we were men—yes)

I feigned ignorance–not difficult to do, given my Rickie Recruit Status.

“Rick!” (All recruits are called ‘Rick’–‘Rickie Recruit’ in Naval Boot Camp) “Rick!” He continued, I have nominated you for this award. I have stuck my neck out for you. There are twelve companies of Ricks for this cycle. That means about eleven hundred recruits. Every division picks the one best recruit from their company to go head to head against the rest. You are my choice. Do not fuck this up!”

“Sir! What do I do?”

“You will be called to see the DIVO (Company Division Officer) and he will interview you to make sure you are qualified to represent our company and the division. He is a senior officer. You  better impress the hell outta him, or I am gonna look like an idiot.”

“Sir! Yes Sir! I will do my best!”

“Marcom! You better do better than your best! Dismissed!”

Wow! And I had been trying to fly/remain somewhere under the radar. Now I had to perform for an award I had decided I did not seek nor want. I figured/hoped Janet would find an alternate way to me for my Graduation. 

Few days later I was summoned to the DIVO’s office.

Standing outside his door, sweating my ass off, I waited to be ordered inside.

Another Rick came up to me and said, “You can go on in now. Just be sure to knock on the door like a MAN. Give the door a good loud knock and wait until he says ‘Enter’. Then God save you.”

“Thanks Asshole” I remember thinking.

I approached the door, took a breath and whacked the hell out of it.

“Enter!”

Manly, I threw the door open. Seated behind an oak desk was the DIVO, a full Commander. I had never spoken to an Officer at this point. I was scared shitless.

“Step Forward Son!” he commanded.

I took two steps into his office and remained at attention, no small feat—difficult to walk while maintaining the ‘at attention’ status.

“ABOUT FACE!” he yelled at me.

I had never learned to perform a proper About Face. Just did not seem important to me, as I was the Geek in the company, and no one had noticed or cared about my ‘Geekiness’.

I made an effort but got my feet tangled up and damn near fell on my face.

“What the Fuck Almighty is that shit Rick!?” He screamed, standing up and walking over to face me. I could feel his breath on me now and I was truly scared.

He took a step back and ordered again, “About FACE!”

I tried again and failed.

“Son, why the fuck are you here wasting my time?” he bellowed. “You have been nominated by your CC to represent the proud history and tradition of this Division for the Military Excellence award. And YOU CANNOT EVEN Do A PROPER ABOUT FACE?! Drop the fuck down! Push ups! Until I get tired.”

Unfortunately, My CC walked in at this time, expecting to meet with the DIVO and hear about what a great candidate he had submitted to represent The Division for The Award. What he discovered, to his horror, was me in the ‘Leaning Rest’ prostrate on the floor of his boss, obviously humiliated.

After some stuttering from my CC, and our being thrown out of the DIVO’s office, we made it back to the barracks.

CC took me aside and confided, “Marcom, I know you are a good recruit, but my ass is on the line here. You can succeed in this. All you have to do is learn how to do a proper about face. You have one week until they call everyone in front of The Board which decides the awardee. I suggest you practice… or kill yourself.”

I did. I practiced and practiced and practiced. I just could never get it down perfect. Everything else I had to offer was squared away, but if I could not do the simplest, most basic military step… well, I was fucked.

The day of the Review Board came. I could not eat morning chow for my nerves. At 1000hrs I was summoned to The Building to stand in front of The Board. There were twelve of us nominees all nervously waiting our turn to be called in to the room to be tested. As I recall, my name came up tenth. No way was I going to have a chance at this. I had checked out my competition (Why did I feel like a contestant in some fucking beauty pageant?), and I had found me lacking and wanting.

I stepped up to the door and gave my hearty three knocks.

“Enter!”

“Don’t show fear,” I said to myself. “They will smell fear.”

I took my requisite three steps forward and faced the three officers seated behind a folding table, “Seaman Recruit Marcom reporting!” I shouted.

“Very well. About Face!”

(“Oh Shit!” I thought. “Please don’t let me fuck this up.”)

I executed a passable ‘About Face’.

“Have a seat Son” one of the officers instructed.

I took the lone chair which stood in the Spartan room, sat rigidly and waited for the rest of the ‘interview.’

Happily, I answered all their questions to their satisfaction, but after I had been dismissed and returned to my peers, I knew I had screwed the pooch with my lame-ass about face. The twelve of us stood outside the room at ‘Parade Rest’ for about twenty minutes before one of the officers came out and announced,

“Gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Seaman Recruit Marcom is our Military Excellence Award recipient. “Congratulations Seaman Recruit Marcom,” He said, handing me a sheet of paper, then standing in front of us, all lined up like martinets, he ordered, “About Face!”

We all executed the command, but I got my feet tangled once again. Another officer had come out of the room just in time to witness this. I saw a look of horror on his face. The officer who had just pronounced me the most ‘squared-away’ sailor out of the eleven hundred who had been eligible barked, “Dismissed!” And we got the hell out of there, smartly. I ran back to my CC with the documentation in hand, proving that I had, in fact won the award. He snatched it from me, no preamble. Read it, then went some kind of ape-shit happy.

While I was basking in the glow of the accolades of my shipmates in the barracks, CC came running out of his office and screamed, “Marcom! Front and Center! Double Time!”

“Oh shit!” I thought. “They done changed their mind.”

I ran up to CC and said, “Sir! Yes Sir!”

“Double time it down to the DIVO’s office! Do it now!”

I beat feet over to DIVO’s building and office. Walked up to his receptionist and announced, “Seaman Recruit Marcom here to see DIVO.”

“You may go in now Rick,” she said.

I gave his door the hearty whack.

“Enter!” came his booming voice.

I strode into his office, taking my three steps, then announced, “Seaman Recruit Marcom reporting Sir!”

He looked me up and down, paused, and then shouted, “ABOUT FACE!”

I proceeded to perform the only perfect ‘about face’ in the history of my naval career.

“Thank Fucking God!” He yelled. “Now get the hell outta my office!”

“Yes SIR!” I said and as I turned to depart, he said,

“Congratulations Marcom! You did the Division proud today.”

Tears welled as I left. I cannot recall a happier moment in my life.

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

Three weeks later at graduation, I was presented my award. I had not had a chance to talk to my wife since the day I had been selected but I assured her that as soon as my recruiter had the official word of my award, she would have her plane ticket to Great Lakes Naval base and she would be escorted to the graduation ceremony.

During the entire three hour graduation ordeal, I kept my eyes searching the bleachers for my wife.

This Did Not Happen for Me

This Did Not Happen for Me

She was not there.

After the graduation I went looking for her.

She was not there.

She had not come.

She was NOT There.

Someone had lied.

She WAS NOT THERE.

I never forgot that day.

It broke my heart

Lady Luck Chapter Two

Last we left our Hero, he was seated ‘Third-Base’ at the Blackjack table.

Had placed a red (five dollar) chip.

Pretty young dealer dealt him a pair of eights (always split Aces & Eights)

Which is precisely what he did.

Pretty Young Ornamental dealer dealt him a tray (three) to his first eight.


OK to double-down on a split pair?” He asked.

“Of course Sir” she said.

Travis slid another red on his first hand.

Dealer dealt him a seven. Making eighteen.

(Dealer’s up-card was a five of hearts—dead man’s hand—she would surely bust over that weak-ass shit, he mused)

She dealt him a Queen to his second hand, making another eighteen! Boom!

Doubled down on that one as well and stood pat.

Dealer turned over her hole card, revealing a jack of hearts, giving her a fifteen. She had to hit it.

She dealt herself a six of diamonds for a twenty-one and then gathered up all the chips on the table.

Travis felt sick to his stomach and excused himself, saying,

“I’ll be right back” as he headed to the head to throw up.

He entered a stall and pounded his head against the wall.

“Stupid! Stupid! Stupid son of a bitch!”

Then he lost consciousness.

Was dreaming of black hundred dollar chips stacked in front of him at the blackjack table.

Then he woke up.

Opened the stall door.

Gathered himself and walked out.

Spied two weekend warriors, Hawaiian shirts, bellies straining fabric, Bermuda shorts.

They were regarding him curiously.

“Bad whiskey” Travis said as he left to return to the Blackjack table.

***

“Do it Over and Again Lance You Lazy Asshole!”

Will be continued…

***

Open Apology To My Readers:

This was a really great story when first I wrote it for a creative writing class at university.

I lost the original, but it is still in my head.

I can rewrite it with respect for my readers (both of you–That’s a joke, BTW. I know I have no less than four readers)

I WILL rewrite the ‘Good’ version.

The ‘complete’ version.

Instead of this scaled down shit version I just posted above.

***

***

Chap One Here (Such as it is)