Yes. A Repost. If you do nothing else, please scroll down and listen to the clip. It is hysterical (and real) Even better.
Cheers Y’all and Happy Saturday Oops! Sunday (is it?)
***
Lyndon Baines Johnson
Texan, Father, School Teacher, Rancher, & Much Maligned 36th President of The United States of America.
I love LBJ, or as Brother Dave Gardner (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-4E_Nrm0j8k) once called him: ‘Daddy Bird’. Johnson was a divisive entity during his one and a half terms as president—primarily due of course to the Vietnam War—which he inherited. Yes, I realize I am gonna get some push back. Favorably mention ‘LBJ’ even today and you best stand by for some unhappy and contentious words.
Young Daddy Bird
The problem I have, in general, when talking to folks about Johnson is that most are ignorant of the man, his history, his upbringing; his good works: Rural electrification for Texas. Medicare, Civil Rights, The Great Society (never really came to fruition, due to Vietnam) and so on.
Once he became ‘The Accidental President’ he took JFK’s dreams and made them reality. Johnson could do that. Why? Because he was the consummate politician—far more effective than Jack Kennedy.
JFK’s dreams were hollow pipes. Johnson made them happen. This is historical fact: For those of you who would care to search it out. For those who don’t really care to do that: Just-Trust-Me on this one, ‘cause I am a Texan, and Texans don’t lie (overmuch).
I have read all of Robert Caro’s books (http://www.robertcaro.com/) on LBJ and I have done my own research, and I have my own memories.
During the Sixty-Four election, my Mom, the originalHippy Chick informed me she was voting for Goldwater.
“Yes Son. He is right for America.” “‘Right?!’ Right don’t even come close: just to the right of Attila the Hun.” (Even at that tender age of seven, I was politically astute. Honestly.)
Much of the blame must be placed on the information revolution and the manifestation of the instant sound bite. I am not bemoaning the Information Age. I would not be able to throw my thoughts so carelessly about to the entire world if it were not for this Internet Thing we all embrace.
All I am saying is one must ponder how many potential great leaders are out there, but refuse to step up to the plate simply because they do not wish to have every word they have ever uttered tweeted or twerked or posted or face-booked for all to see. Some things should still be classified as TMI. That is just good manners.
What if JFK had had the internet to deal with? We would all have known of his affair with MM. WWBS? What would Bill ‘Oh Really’ Say? We would have been ass-deep in the Cuban Missile Crisis, but Fox and CNN and even MSNBC would have burned more video on JFK’s infidelity. Castro would have loved it. Just sayin’…
My Step-sister worked for Oliver Stone on the film JFK. She was one of the on-set-dressers. We got into a heated argument over the whole conspiracy thing. She was convinced that LBJ was behind it all. I know quite a lot about LBJ as I have mentioned. I have done my research and I love Texas history.
Anyway I asked her upon what she based her unwavering belief.
She said, “That photograph of Johnson taking the oath of office on Air Force One in Dallas.”
Smug? Ladybird? (Just behind his right hand, in case y’all don’t recognize her) Of course, that is Jackie on the other side.
“You’re shitting me,” I said.
“Look at that photo and see how smug Ladybird looks in it. You just know then and there, she knew the whole thing.”
“I think I need a drink,” was all I could muster by way of response.
(Oh! And my step-mother worked for Jack Ruby: I know some shit about it)
Just sayin’…
I am not writing here as an apologist for LBJ. My focus is on the wonderful Texan caricature character he was. His humor, his down-to-earth’ed-ness, his vibrant lust for life, his convictions, and his larger-than-worldly-life persona: His ‘Texan-ness’.
Therein lies the rub for me. Johnson could be a buffoon. He could be portrayed as an idiot. He could be rude, crude, and socially unacceptable. He would be chastised and eventually ostracized.
But he got shit done!
He was a great, moral, honorable man.
No one will ever convince me otherwise (but you are certainly welcome to try)
Watch and listen to the Video Clip. It proves my point (and it is hysterical). These tapes were released a few years back. I have them all.
‘The Time Has Come,’ The Walrus Said, ‘To Talk of Many Things: Of Murdered Birds, Of Turtles Green, and Hippies Sellin’ Rings.’ -With Apologies to Lewis Carroll.
“Nap time!”
That hated time.
That dreaded time.
That feared time.
Why?
Because I did not know my left foot from my right foot.
You see, during “Nap Time” I had to remove my shoes and I could never figure out which shoe went on which foot.
Made no difference to me if I woke up and put the left shoe into the right mouth, but it did seem to matter a great deal to my kindergarten teacher. She would grow livid if one of her charges got the whole shoe business wrong. Well, good for her and bless her heart.
“Your shoes are on the wrong foot. Doesn’t that look funny to you? Doesn’t it feel uncomfortable? Don’t you feel like a fool?”
No. No. And, No.
I cared not.
However, being eager to please and wont to have no drama hurled in my direction, I made an honest effort to figure out the ‘whole shoe business’ just to make my life easier and less complicated.
Since I, until this day, cannot discern right from left, (or find my wayward way about my home town—pop: 1800) I came up with what I thought was a semi-brilliant plan: When nap-time came about, I would remove my shoes and carefully place them on the floor and slide them underneath my cot in exactly the same configuration that they had whilst my feet were wearing them.
I surmised that once awakened, I could roll over, sit up, and by placing my feet just the same way as before I had retired, find the shoes exactly as they had been.
Good theory, but I was never quite certain if or not, some Evil Shoe Satan had trifled with my shoes whist I was sleeping and therefore, did not know (with absolute certainty) if my shoes were still in the same configuration where I had left them and hence, if they would go back on in that same same configuration I needed.
I am an arrogant Texan, but I love Lenny Bruce. A man just about as far from removed from Texan as one could ever be. (Except maybe George Bush the Elder)
Lenny was no friend to Texas or Texans
The Scar He Was So Proud Of
LBJ: (Or “Southern Speech, Or At Least What Passes for ‘Speech’)
Thanks Lenny
The Real Scar
R.I.P.
Please listen (and comment)
(If you never listen to any other Lenny Bruce, Please listen to this one)
This is a “HOT MESS” collection of some recent, decent and some not-so-recent, not so decent, not so ‘normal’ comments and added value ‘vomit comments’and some other weird shit that spills from my mind from time to time, thus making me feel fine.
Go ahead: Try to Diagramthat Sentence.
Good Luck.
I’m Sorry in Advance.
Le Space Race flashback—if you do not know of the ‘Vomit Comet” I’ll help you out
OK Go – Upside Down & Inside Out
Licensed to YouTube byLatinAutor – PeerMusic, LatinAutorPerf, ARESA, Abramus Digital, CMRRA, BMG Rights Management (US), LLC, and 8 Music Rights Societies
(NOT Licensed to One Lance A. Marcom–“I pays my money; I takes my Chances–Just how I roll.”)
Some dude, [emerging from bedroom half-dressed] yawing and scratching his butt, “So, what’s for breakfast?”
Elizabeth Perkins, “Egg McMuffin, corner of Broadway and Belmont.”
–from ‘About Last Night.’
***
Dear Your-Name-Escapes Me,
When I choose to waste my time, I prefer to do it on some guilty pleasure.
Something talking to you is not.
I thought I had dismissed you yesterday.
Apparently reading and comprehending is not your strong suit.
No matter.
Let’s review, shall we?
You are tediously boring Kid.
Why don’t you go outside and play?
On such a lovely day.
Or maybe find something better to say.
Or start a one-man-band.
Your kind: ten-a-penny here in Radio Land.
We’ve been here before…
***
A poet of such piercing eloquence
But covered with misguided arrogance
He throws out the meats
Then shits where he eats
Oops! There goes the inheritance!
–Lance
***
“Fear?” No fear.
“Biggest mistake?” Deluding myself into thinking English was my ‘First Language.’
‘Texican’ is my first language.
I’d do well to remember that.
“Southpark will depress you, repress you, digress you, ingest you, digest you, and shit you out (if you allow it). Writing saved me from insanity there.”
–‘Letter from a Southpark Jail’ (Afghanistan, 2012)
***
Dear Fortunato Musico,
Did you enjoy reading my comment? Insulting, was it not? Would you read an entire story written in such a fashion?
When you are so lazy that you completely ignore proper grammar (and spelling, and punctuation), you insult the intelligence of your reader at best and you show a complete disrespect for yourself as a writer at worse. In short, you fucking lose both ways.
“Us, you people, knows grammar be important to write because of if us people are be writer, to be take serious, us knows us had to serious used prospered grammar. It was crucial to we as to be good at you craft.”
If you want to fuck-up The Queen’s English for writing effect, that there above is how you do it.
Rangoli / cannoli
Linguini / martini
Houdini / Fellini
Pacino / Tarantino
Let’s call the whole thing off
Ima just jerkin’ yo chain Bro. Tit for Tat. You da quintessential chain-jerker, yo!
–Lance
***
OK. I’m confused.
Did the man you spoke to say “That is how you get held back in kindergarten?”
Or was that part of your commentary?
Punctuation. Use (or not use) of quotations
Be kind to your readers.
We don’t deserve it though. We should be able to just ‘know,’ no?
Weak knees
Knocked trees
Bee stings
Laugh strings
Freak out
Geek out
La Shriek?
Très Chic
New Dance Craze??
“Well, allow me to retort.”
***
“Diwali is called the Festival of Lights and is celebrated to honor Rama-chandra, the seventh avatar (incarnation of the god Vishnu). It is believed that on this day Rama returned to his people after 14 years of exile during which he fought and won a battle against the demons and the demon king, Ravana.”
–Lance
***
No phone
No pool
No pets
Ain’t got no internet…
Hell! I’d do it for one billion.
(Yeah, I’m a cheap date)
Quoth the raven
(That black whore)
“How to get to Elsinore?”
“Elsinore, you ask?”
“Yes, Elsinore, which way?
In Elsinore I’ll stay.
“And with Lenore, I’ll have my way.”
“Say ‘Elsinore’ one more Goddamn time!
“I dare ya; I double-dare ya!”
“I feel like a black crow flying…
“On a blue, blue sky.”
Vid Share Cred: MysticPieces
(Sorry Edgar. Sorry Joni)
***
My condolences for your dear departed free-thinking mind as you are led, sheep-like, to the slaughter.
But of course, “Things will be much better in the Celestial North Korea,” that is Heaven, eh?
Fair winds and following seas to you Friend.
Why go to all the trouble to create a meme and not even proof read it before subjecting the entire FB world to an inferior product?
My beliefs…
“The Cowards Never Started and the Weak Died Along the Way” –Old SEAL sayin’—jus’ sayin’.
Don’t know much about History…
Don’t know much geology…
Don’t know much about the French I took…
Don’t know what a slide rule is for…
But I do know English.
Angle: “a figure formed by two lines diverging from a common point or two planes diverging from a common line.”
Angel: “in some religions, a divine being who acts as a messenger of God”
Your meme is a crime against, not only logic, but English as well.
Unless of course you still are trying to say the “The Devil is Not in the details.”
If so, then one-thousand apologies.
Cheers,
–Lance
***
Yeah Alex, I’m down with this.
By the way,
What color is your parachute?
Cheers!
–Lance
***
Thank you Elizabeth
You have saved me from spilling more virtual ink and killing more virtual trees and wasting more virtual paper on this thread.
In other words, ‘I could not have said it better, nor agree more.’
Welcome to Writer’s Fight Club
Where the men are mostly men
And the women
Never nurture (nor suffer) fools.
Cheers and good luck.
You’re gonna need a bigger boat, by way of a first post.
Just a suggestion
Hope that helps your ‘writing.’
–Lance
***
Are you aiming at ‘cute’ here,
Or just showcasing your stupidity?
If the former, well, FAIL!
If the latter, Congratulations!
“Any plans for tonight?
Fork?”
***
TEXAN TALES & HIEROGLYPHICS: A Memoir
(Working title)
Nap time, that feared time, that dreaded time, that hated time.
Everything recounted above actually happened, in one form or another; me no Alamo.
“Call me Ishmael.”
“That was a whale of a ride, was it not?”
–Lance
***
Hi Belinda,
Thank you very much for spending time on my piece.
Just home from work and of course was anxious to dive in and read your critique. You have provided excellent suggestions and have asked excellent questions. “Pregnant” golf ball. Yeah, whatever was I ‘thinking?’
Haha (Just plain old ‘golf ball’ will certainly suffice here, eh?)
There are many other fine examples in your comments showing how I might improve this selection. No need to recount them here, as you wrote them.
I will copy and paste all your comments into my draft, in order to more easily work through them.
Again, your time and efforts on my behalf are much appreciated.
Thank you,
-Lance
***
“Ah Mortisha, I love it when you speak ‘atheist.’”
–Lance
***
“I’ve learned more from this group in the past 2 months than all the rest of my life.”
Now now Kelly. That’s a bit of a stretch, doan’cha think? Heheheh. Love you, you Manson Girl, you.
“It’s like sprinkling shit with the word “God” and that’s how you get holy shit.”
I am soooo gonna steal this…
J/K
It’s brilliant.
–Lance
***
“Allahu akbar!” BOOM!!!
(May often be heard in Shit-holesParadises like Iraq)
Even if just to say, “Hey! This sucks!” or “Hey! This rocks!” or “Hey! Don’t quit your day job!”
Out now
Comment, anyone?
“I know your monkey”
Would be a great title for… something.
Loved this John. Outstanding piece.
(You wouldn’t happen to have been influenced any by
“Joe Cartoon,” by any chance?)
–Lance
***
Hi Ginette,
I didn’t notice that at first (Mary Beth’s observation about the distance to the gas station—was it a gas station?).
I do understand leaving the lights on, however. I have seen people do this before, if the venue was not particularly well-lit. Although, now-a-days, I’d suspect it might be difficult to find a dimly lit gas station.
Sorry, got caught up in all that…
The ‘hook’ worked for me (probably why I didn’t notice the gas-station walk)
Overall, I think it’s tight and flows well and I would definitely keep reading.
Hope this helped.
Good post.
“Fear kept Wendy Smith from staying in the rusted Sedan.
The compact car smelt of stale beer and cigarettes, but it had been her ticket to freedom. She needed to get gas. She left the headlights on, grabbed her rugged back pack and opened the car door with a trembling hand.
…When their heads were bent down, she turned and ran as fast as she could.”
Cheers,
–Lance
***
The lament of every writing generation,
“We suck!”
And maybe this one does, but I hope not. For I am a cockeyed optimist, à la Mitzi Gaynor…
***
There are still great writers; always will be.
What is distressing, however, is we are the first generation with tools available unimaginable.
And how do most use them?
Cute-Cat-Memes!
Fuck me and hand me a quill and ink pot.
***
Some of your best writing Alex/Marie. Kept me locked up inside.
Love it.
My opinion does not match Dave K’s.
It all works (for me)
‘Cept this below:
“They must have knew their prince was missing by now.”
“must have KNOWN’ (Just typo…)
Bravo Marie!
–Lance
***
My first day in typing class in Honey Grove High, the old Broad K. Trout began our introductory lesson with an exercise:
“Class, two fingers and one thumb and it goes like this:
‘F space J space F space J space… Keep doing that until I get tired.”
And if I’m honest, I thank her. Learning to touch-type is the only thing I took from HS that was worth a shit.
So… I Thank You Kathy T!
Last thoughts; then I’m off the air on this.
(If you’re lucky)
I am not an apologist for LBJ.
Honestly do not care how many ways y’all want to spin your history.
I have not the energy, inclination, nor desire to try to change your mind.
And I have far better things to do than become a caretaker of dead presidents or of their memories.
Unless of course, their visage is printed on some paper I am fortunate enough to be carrying around on my person.
I am not interested in taking part in a trolling war on this subject.
Y’all have expressed your opinions; I have expressed mine.
In parting, I will just add this to that:
It is disheartening to see so many who obviously have not taken time to actually learn anything in detail of the life of Lyndon Johnson or of the good he actually accomplished, jump on some lazy SJW bandwagon and ride it for likes to their comments.
Yes, Viet Nam was horrible, but that was not all that happened during the years, 1963-68.
Four additional ‘massive(s)’ and one bonus ‘massively’ sprinkled in the rest.
Seriously?
You can do better.
“A wee bit over 2000 words.” (Try 2592)
Ok, so arithmetic ain’t your thing; not mine either.
But, honestly, it’s a hot mess. There is NO HOOK at all, just mind-numbing exposition.
Why should I care about Admiral Sarah M. Visherly? Other than the fact she wears leather black gloves, carries a dress dagger and a concealed gun? Or because:
“She… flashed her considerable teeth in a warning snarl.”
My suggestions?
Write it up as a ‘wee bit over 500 words’ piece.
Give us some dialog. Make us interested in Sarah.
Then leave us wanting more.
Save all the ‘massive’ detail for later.
Get-us-involved-in-her-story-right-away.
It’s not all bad. I did slog through as much as I could.
There is some potential here, I think.
Unleash Sarah and let her show us.
Cheers,
–Lance
***
Juditta,
I listened right now, since it’s night.
Loved it.
Shared it to my timeline.
Cheers
–Lance
***
“For twenty-five cents more…”
–Lenny Bruce (“Hubert’s Museum”)
***
Hi Ginette,
Thanks so much for reading and taking the time to give feedback. Adverbs are surely my nemesis. Thought I had cast most of them out of this piece (Yes! There were more, believe it or not), but you’re correct. Further ruthless editing is in order.
I think my problem can best be stated by Gertrude chastising Polonius,
“More matter with less art.”
Your critique is appreciated as is your time. As for MWTD, I think I was trying for cute there. I’m still schlepping about a lot of my ‘hobbyist writer’ baggage, trying desperately to become more ‘professional.’ If I do keep the “Massive Weps,” they probably should be downgraded to lower case at the very least…
And certainly, I love that you love my (developing) style; coming from another writer that means so much.
Cheers, and thank you again,
–Lance
*For Barney* (RIP, My Old, Old, Old, Friend)
Trigger Warning:
May be offensive to people of faith:
***
Barney’s not buyin’ The bullshit they’re tryin’ Space rock was his ending Not God’s will unbending
They say the Big Bang Just weren’t a thang They ‘know’ evolution’s Not their solution
Yet science creates Kids who think straight It don’t take no sleuth To find the true truth
Religion is pending A major upending Then faster than light All Religion is shite
I don’t have any kids (that I know of), but the idea of dealing with eight kids and nine grandkidsscares the shit outta me. I never could relate to kids, even when I was one.
Just saying
–Lance
I actually wrote a bit about my pet cougar, “Charley The Cougar,”
As an erstwhile distance runner, this post caught my eye (or maybe my foot’s eye?).
Enjoyed it.
I always kept a runner’s log when I was doing my forty or so miles a week, and in addition to the usual mundane, but necessary stats (time of day, weather, locale, distance/time run, etc.) I found myself writing longer and longer entries describing the run, my mood, interesting things I saw or experiences I had, people I had notice or notice me, thoughts that invaded my mind, pain, and on and on.
Ran across some of my old logs a few years ago (sadly re-lost to me now) and what wonderful reading they held for me after so many years of almost forgetting that I used to even write such things.
Certainly you are keeping logs as well.
Keep them safe.
You will cherish them mightily some years from now.
–Lance
***
Khalid,
This is far and above anything I could write (today), but I’ll get there.
Maybe.
Amazing.
So many wonderful turns of phrase/ wonderful observations.
“…outerwearly Arab, underwearly Western. That’s also the image of the rooster gone crazy. A funny story I read somewhere. A rooster not knowing exactly the time when to start crowing because he happened to find himself in the Eiffel Tower somehow.”
Wow.
Just fuckin’ wow.
I have a ‘Layla’ in one of my memoir stories.
I am going to shoot her now, for not living up to the name.
Have you more of this piece?
–Lance
***
“Every morning I was dead as a doornail”
When I first read this I read it as “dead as normal”
And went, “Hmmm… I like that”
Then looking closer (yes, I need new glasses), realized I had misread it.
My point: I kind of like my misread version.
Your thoughts Mimi?
Uh, my comment shoulda read, ‘R’Amen.’
As an atheist, I am well-vetted, and my credentials are bona-fide.
–Lance
BELIEVE that shit!
“SHOUT! SHOUT! LET IT ON OUT…”
Credit: Tears and For Beers Fears (Duh)
***
Hi Mona,
“There was compete silence in her mind. No need to escape.”
Maybe: “No thoughts threatened her mind; no need to escape” (?)
Just a thought. (no pun)
I like it overall.
–Lance
If I ‘Learned’ from all my myriad mistakes made, the hard-disk-drive that is my ‘mind’ would first become fragmented, then full, and then just explode.
So where would that leave me?
It would leave me with just-one-more-mess to clean up
(Uh… I think I have recently written about ‘messes.’)
“Should I go for it?”
That one is near to the top of my page. It is the post with the dog falling over in bed.
Yuk, Yuk, Yuk! (I love to laugh at Lance. It is cathartic)
And YES!
Sometimes merely ‘surviving’ is enough.
Great post.
Thanks for sharing the quote.
Cheers,
Lance
***
“But here lies the difference between low-vibing fake ones and high-vibing someone.”
Great line (and meaning)!!
I may be ‘compelled’ to steal it for a future post of my own.
(I will, of course, credit you. I may be a thief, but I am an honest one—does that make sense?)
Great post Angry Bird.
Cheers,
–Lance
Very well-written and thought provoking.
Bravo!
***
To add my ‘two cents’… well two cents which I stole from someone else, namely this guy: some old dude from several years ago,
“And if I say that the greatest good of a man is daily to converse about virtue, and all that concerning which you hear me examining myself and others, and that the life which is unexamined is not worth living—that you are still less likely to believe” –Socrates
I had a similar experience with one of my ex-wives, before she became one of my ex-wives (seems I am always in the market for the ‘future ex-mrs-marcom’ And the astute reader will recognize that I just stole that line from ‘Jurassic Park’ –Jeff Goldblum’s character)
Anyway, I was saying…
Oh yeah, my first ex. We were in Tel Aviv (I used to work in the Sinai for the U.S. State Department. You may have read some of ‘those’ posts: Sinai Field Mission.—SFM—Search for them on my blog if you’d like to ‘read more about it.’
Or not.
LOL
***
Damnit! I am gonna finish writing this ‘comment’ ‘even if it harelips the Pope’.
We were sitting at a sidewalk café on Dizengoff Street and I casually remarked,
“You know Janet, maybe we should get married some day.”
She took that to heart. (Or maybe she ‘heard’ me say “Sunday”)
Damn!
I wasn’t meaning ‘right now!’
Next day we were married.
(I had a problem back then with the whole concept of ‘Just say no’ when it came to women, and Nancy was still somewhere far off on the event-horizon at the time: 1979…)
***
***
Dear Reader(s),
If you have come this far, I humbly suggest you find something better to do with your time.
Of Murdered Birds, Of Turtles Green, and Hippies Sellin’ Rings.’
-With Apologies to Lewis Carroll”
This Is A Delightful Video (In My Humble Opinion)
The Walrus and the Carpenter:
Cred For Vid Share: Leandro Libarona
***
“Is That The Moon–Dear Clown–Tied to a String For Me?“
“Lots of Forty-Watt Successes–Where’s My Own Shinin’ Hour?”
“Just More Bang-Bang KetchupColor To Him… Color To Him”
He Grabs At The Air, But There’s Nothing There”
“Nap time!”
That hated time.
That dreaded time.
That feared time.
Why?
Because I did not know my left foot from my right foot.
You see, during “Nap Time” I had to remove my shoes and I could never figure out which shoe went on which foot.
Made no difference to me if I woke up and put the left shoe into the right mouth, but it did seem to matter a great deal to my kindergarten teacher. She would grow livid if one of her charges got the whole shoe business wrong. Well, good for her and bless her heart.
“Your shoes are on the wrong foot. Doesn’t that look funny to you? Doesn’t it feel uncomfortable? Don’t you feel like a fool?”
No. No. And, No.
I cared not.
However, being eager to please and wont to have no drama hurled in my direction, I made an honest effort to figure out the ‘whole shoe business’ just to make my life easier and less complicated.
Since I, until this day, cannot discern right from left, (or find my wayward way about my home town—pop: 1800) I came up with what I thought was a semi-brilliant plan: When nap-time came about, I would remove my shoes and carefully place them on the floor and slide them underneath my cot in exactly the same configuration that they had whilst my feet were wearing them.
I surmised that once awakened, I could roll over, sit up, and by placing my feet just the same way as before I had retired, find the shoes exactly as they had been. Good theory, but I was
never quite certain if or not, some Evil Shoe Satan had trifled with my shoes whist I was sleeping and therefore, did not know (with absolute certainty) if my shoes were still in the same configuration where I had left them and hence, if they would go back on in that same same configuration I needed.
