Shonnie: Just Some Last Thoughts & One “Reminisce”

I killed this post. Probably because it did not ring ‘true’ (even though it was). Anyway, I brought it back, if for nothing else, my own edification.

(And of course, because I love Sheryl Crow. And of course, as a vain writer, I just cannot cotton to killing my own words, once written. Hahahaha! Writers, y’all know what I mean.) 

Please Bare er, ‘bear’… with me on this one Y’all.

***

Time always makes things (memories) better. This is how I cope. As for me and Shonnie, memories are multiplied–super-sized, if you will. The words I wrote of our relationship are all too true. I do hope she never reads those words, as neither she nor I are strong enough to re-live those heady days. This is how life is. One is young once, (and older more than twice) and youth does stupid shit based upon that ‘youth’, and then, if lucky, one has a chance for redemption later in life.

(Not religious redemption: human redemption) I don’t apologize for my youthful indiscretions. They belong to me alone. I will carry. If anyone has in their head after reading my story of Lance and Shonnie, that I did not truly love her, that I allowed her to set me free for my own self-preservation, that I did not want to fight for her, then you may want to go back and read between the lines.

And with that ‘mini-rant’ spotlight shined into my soul, I leave you with this idealized and fantasized version of what Shonnie meant to me.

(Ms Shonnie’s part played and well-acted by Sheryl Crow.) And as good as Sheryl is, she could never be as good to me as was Shonnie. Ever. (But, I’d grant her an audition, none-the-less) And it shames me now to admit this but I was, back then, not strong enough to be her man.

If you are new here and confused, here is the beginning of this little story: Shonnie

Go there with my Blessings… and sympathy

 

It is with no small bit of trepidation…

That I find myself reposting this one. But in light of the recent Supreme Court decision regarding, ‘Hobby Lobby’, I just cannot keep quiet. If my words offend, I apologize now for the offense. But I never apologize for my mores. Some things won’t change.

Cheers to all my friends and readers. I am nothing, if not sincere.

–Lance

***

di·lem·ma

 noun də-ˈle-mə also dī-

: a situation in which you have to make a difficult choice

horns-of-a-dilemma

If you stare at this long enough, the clouds start to move. Go ahead, try it. (You know you want to)

http://www.merriam-webster.com/

Facing the Horns of One.

I really want to quit posting for today and I really want to visit all my friend’s blogs and I really want to make some really witty and cool statements so that they will really love me…and yet… I cannot shut the fuck up.

Really.

Why?

Because I am really, well really…

Because I am really really vain.

And strange

Really strange

My friends may forgive me.

Those new here, will not.

(Not really)

But I always tell me, I say, “Hey! Me! You can make new friends out there!”

I say, “But I love the friends I have already made.”

“Fuck ’em! The other me says.”

I grow some balls and kick my ‘other me to the curb.”

Why? Because a friend lost, hurts me.

Honestly

(You thought I was gonna say ‘really’ didn’t ya?)

Especially, if it comes from my vanity and my stupid forgetful lazy neglect. That hurts the worst.

Deeply.

Because, that one… should be preventable.

Therefore I leave you with this
(Yes. I did have a point)

How many out there feel or felt upon one time, that you were just a “Doll Part?”

(Yeah, that sounds gay)

And NO Offense to any of my gay friends out there: it is just an expression. (I think–if it offends–let  me know)

(Really–now you just knew–I had to slip that last one in, under some covers)

Then…

Get over it.

Answer the question and move on.

*End of Rant*

Below is a visual aid:

Ed. Note: Lance is one stupid son of a bitch.

This video below is significant to many of my friends who have suffered domestic violence. In the dark recesses of my feeble fucking mind, I knew this, yet I put the video in anyway.

Why? Because I love Love (Courtney)

That is no excuse. I need some sensitivity training. I am going to leave the video in this post, but now for different reasons: People Need To Wake Up To The Fact that here in this country and all over the world, there are women being abused.

Right NOW. Something has to be done. To quote Christopher Hitchens:

“The quickest way to end poverty is to empower women. Empower woman. Give them control of their reproductive bodies. Give them education. Let them have jobs.”

That is a paraphrase. But you can Google it, or I will do it for you. Next time I edit this stupid, thoughtless, insensitive post.

New Ed. Note: As promised hours ago…

And here we go with….Lenny!

427px-Lenny_Bruce_arrest

And Yes! I am going to continue to post shit that is on my mind. Ad nauseam.

Because this is my blog.

I mean no offense, but if you ever get offended here, well, I did warn you. (didn’t I?)

Okay, maybe I did not, but I am goddamn certain from day one, I never promised a floral garden.

Now did I?

(Sometimes, often, I out-type my brain–sorry)

Moving on…I guess this is a rant. (searching for a way to categorize this post)

Don’t worry: I will make up a new one if I havta. (and you real bloggers out there know what the fuck I am talking about. Doncha?)

And Fuck Yeah!

I think Courtney Love is fucking brilliant.

Wanna sue me?

The line forms to the right.

And Hell Yeah! “I wanna be the girl with the most cake!”

Don’t we all?

I mean,

Really?

*End*

Ah Shit! It is Now Officially ‘Throw Back Thursday’

Trust Me:

You do not wanna see this one.

Cheers!

di·lem·ma

 noun də-ˈle-mə also dī-

: a situation in which you have to make a difficult choice

horns-of-a-dilemma

If you stare at this long enough, the clouds start to move. Go ahead, try it. (You know you want to)

http://www.merriam-webster.com/

Facing the Horns of One.

I really want to quit posting for today and I really want to visit all my friend’s blogs and I really want to make some really witty and cool statements so that they will really love me…and yet… I cannot shut the fuck up.

Really.

Why?

Because I am really, well really…

Because I am really really vain.

And strange

Really strange

My friends may forgive me.

Those new here, will not.

(Not really)

But I always tell me, I say, “Hey! Me! You can make new friends out there!”

I say, “But I love the friends I have already made.”

“Fuck ’em! The other me says.”

I grow some balls and kick my ‘other me to the curb.”

Why? Because a friend lost, hurts me.

Honestly

(You thought I was gonna say ‘really’ didn’t ya?)

Especially, if it comes from my vanity and my stupid forgetful lazy neglect. That hurts the worst.

Deeply.

Because, that one… should be preventable.

Therefore I leave you with this
(Yes. I did have a point)

How many out there feel or felt upon one time, that you were just a “Doll Part?”

(Yeah, that sounds gay)

And NO Offense to any of my gay friends out there: it is just an expression. (I think–if it offends–let  me know)

(Really–now you just knew–I had to slip that last one in, under some covers)

Then…

Get over it.

Answer the question and move on.

*End of Rant*

Below is a visual aid:

Ed. Note: Lance is one stupid son of a bitch.

This video below is significant to many of my friends who have suffered domestic violence. In the dark recesses of my feeble fucking mind, I knew this, yet I put the video in anyway.

Why? Because I love Love (Courtney)

That is no excuse. I need some sensitivity training. I am going to leave the video in this post, but now for different reasons: People Need To Wake Up To The Fact that here in this country and all over the world, there are women being abused.

Right NOW. Something has to be done. To quote Christopher Hitchens:

“The quickest way to end poverty is to empower women. Empower woman. Give them control of their reproductive bodies. Give them education. Let them have jobs.”

That is a paraphrase. But you can Google it, or I will do it for you. Next time I edit this stupid, thoughtless, insensitive post.

New Ed. Note: As promised hours ago…

And here we go with….Lenny!

427px-Lenny_Bruce_arrest

And Yes! I am going to continue to post shit that is on my mind. Ad nausea!

Because this is my blog.

I mean no offense, but if you ever get offended here, well, I did warn you. (didn’t I?)

Okay, maybe I did not, but I am goddamn certain from day one, I never promised a floral garden.

Now did I?

(Sometimes, often, I out-type my brain–sorry)

Moving on…I guess this is a rant. (searching for a way to categorize this post)

Don’t worry: I will make up a new one if I havta. (and you real bloggers out there know what the fuck I am talking about. Doncha?)

And Fuck Yeah!

I think Courtney Love is fucking brilliant.

Wanna sue me?

The line forms to the right.

(Gotcha!)

And Hell Yeah! “I wanna be the girl with the most cake!”

Don’t we all?

I mean,

Really?

*End*

This Hurts

“Contremporary”

Teela Hart

I’ve been free from domestic violence for sixteen months and these words continue to elicit an undeniable visceral response upon hearing them.  The regurgitation of such verbiage is in fact a tool used by all abusers to keep their victims in a perpetual state of confusion and fear.

Reading the stories of so many victims/survivors of domestic violence and finding that they all resonate with me in so many ways is disturbing.  More importantly though, they loose me from the ties that bind as the script that somehow landed in every abuser’s hands is just that, a script, devoid of any real meaning.

If you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence, please visit http://www.nomore.org for a list of domestic violence centers specific to your location. You can also contact the National Domestic Violence Hotline at http://www.thehotline.org or call 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). If you feel you are in…

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Back (By Some Popular Demand)

And… Just for fun:

Marlon Brando

In his most ‘endearing’ scene(s):

Comments on DV? (for the un-hip, and uninitiated,. that is English for “Domestic Violence” Go on and Google)

Send them on over to Teela

http://teelahart.com/

Comments on Lenny Bruce? Or Flying Spaghetti Monsters, or Christopher Hitchens, or Texas, or Kinky Friedman, or Fishing in Galveston, or the Alamo, or, Politics, or Molly Ivins, or LBJ, or… oatmeal

Place them right here below:

https://texantales.com/

I will field them.

Cheers,

Lance

Refrain:

Sam Cooked:

In Keeping With My ‘Texans I Admire Theme’ Of Late:

Here is more Molly:

On LBJ, Bill Clinton, Domestic Violence, Poverty of Women,  and Some Other Gems.

Worth a watch.

And here is another short one on her formative years as a journalist:

This is a new focus for this Blog–not The Only Focus–just an additional one.

Please stay tuned for frequent new posts on this Theme.

It will probably tack back and forth all over the Texas Map (and Timeline)

Thanks Y’all

Shoot at me, You Sumbitch. You Caint Hit Shit!

“Between the lines of photographs I’ve seen the past. It isn’t pleasing.”

-Janis Ian

This post is for Teela

Teela

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

My grandfather beat his wife. He was a jealous man. He was a boxer in his youth, and his beatings were top-notch.

He could beat:

This man. That man. Any man. (He could beat women too)

And he did; he beat my grandmother.

For fifty years.

He was a jealous man.

He hated me, but more important, he hated the spring I had sprung from.

He hated those “Marcoms.”

“Who the hell do they think they are, Boy? Doctors, lawyers? Scum! That’s what they are!”

“Yes, gran-dad, they are scum.”

“That old Doc Marcom… he is communisss.”

“Yes, Grand-dad, surely”

“If’n you sass me Boy, I gonna send you there to live among ‘em.”

“Yes, Granddaddy.”

“Go on in there and do yer homework.”

“Yes, Granddaddy.”

That conversation happened in 1969, if memory serves.

In 1974, when I had ‘matured’ and I was spending a summer there (in Winnsboro), late one night, my Grandmother came flying through my room:

“Lance! Lance! He’s trying to kill me! Help me!”

I jumped out of bed, followed them onto the porch, and confronted my so old nemesis:

“Hey! You son of a bitch! Don’t be hittin’ my grandmother!,” I shouted.

He took a swing and a miss.

I countered and decked him. Knocked him off the porch actually.

He gathered his wits and said,

“Boy! I am gonna shoot your ass!” And  I believed him.

He ran into the house, as I was grabbing my Grandmother by the arm and dragging her to the road. He reappeared with his deer rifle and shot at us. We dived into the bar ditch, an’ cowered.

He missed.

But he did not miss the mark that I would have some difficulties lookin’ at him as ‘Gran-dad” anymore.

But… we forgave him.

We should not have.

(I know this now)