Tag Archives: Nacogdoches

Input/Output: Electricity! (With Sincere Apologies to Joni Mitchell)

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The below is a comment I made over at Aussa’s Blog (a blog I can never say enough good things about), in response to one of her hilarious posts: Ridiculous On The Job Injuries

 http://aussalorens.com/2014/07/10/ridiculous-on-the-job-injuries/

Her prompt:  What’s the most ridiculous way you’ve injured yourself?

***

Back in the Middle Ages (1980’s) when I owned my tropical fish store in Nacogdoches

(Yes, That ‘Oldest Town in Texas’), I was trying to clean the front glass of one of my retail tanks (ten gallon) which housed an electric catfish (like an electric eel, but with higher amps and voltage).

I was standing on a stool as ‘Benny Franklin’s’ tank was on the third tier—you just know I had to name him 

—since I’d had him ‘in-stock’ for months (All the East Texans were interested in were guppies, goldfish, and ‘crud-eaters’).

Anyhow, as I was keeping a watchful eye on Benny, lest I inadvertently swerve my paw/forearm into him, a customer walked up to me, inquiring (rather vociferously) about where were the crud eaters

(Yes, I have posted about crud-eaters), I took my eye off the prize (my arm) just for-a-second. Yep: Bam! Brushed Benny and received a shock which knocked me off the stool and flat on my ass.

Input: Output Electricity

Malapterurus electricus- shock yer ass-officus

Embarrassed? What do you think? I was supposedly a ‘professional aquarist.’

Apparently not-on-that-day.

The potential crud-eater customer just looked down at me and announced dryly that she would try ‘Ben Franklin’s’ (coincidence? or irony?) or better still Wal*Mart up the road.

Guess I did not answer her query quick enough as I was taking my own sweet time in my sincere effort to start breathing again.

True Story: you can take my word for it.

😉

Cheers to you Aussa,

Always my pleasure to visit y’all, and glean inspiration for future posts (sincerely).

–Lance

Video Credit: JoniJourney

Diego Garcia: Part Three

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Please Watch This Informative Video:

Credit:

Military TV: https://www.youtube.com/@Military-TV

Part One Here

Part Two Here

The Eighties Kinda Sucked For Me. Not horribly but slightly. Now I will digress and tell you why.

During the Eighties, I came home from Egypt and SFM. I had spent the last three years of the Seventies in the Sinai Desert and these were glorious years for me. 

During the (very early) Eighties, actually very late Seventies, I got married.

At the beginning of the Eighties, Ronald Reagan was president and I was twenty-two years old: could not deny me or tell me anything! I had ‘seen’ the World!

Ronnie

During the Early Eighties, the Prime Lending Rate went from nine percent to twenty percent, thus making it real difficult for me to sustain a Small Business loan for my Tropical Fish Store.

I overcame all of this. By sheer guts and asshole-ness. (and by writing a seriously hot check, for three thousand dollars! I gave a shit not.)

But, I embraced it:

And somewhat thrived. Trickle Down, as they say, but not to mention, my bride and I slept on Army Cots for two years… We slept with the fishes.

And ate baked potatoes, cooked in a microwave which we had stolen borrowed. With pressed ham.

And the occasional onion… on Saturdays. And bacon on Sundays. And sometimes sour cream on Mondays.

We eventually left that place (after four years) Yep, we escaped Nacogdoches, Texas, which for us had been what we could imagine living in The Movie ‘Deliverance’ would have been like.

We escaped to Plano, Texas, which for many (but not us), was like living in the TV Show ‘Dallas’.

We discovered that we were more poor there than anywhere. In Nacogdoches we were ‘business owners’. In Plano we were just scum: no furniture, no fixtures, no nada: SCUM. We got thrown out of our first apartment because “Y’all don’t have no furniture and y’all are sleeping on the floor. This violates y’all’s lease agreement. Goodbye.”

We soldiered on…

We did sell, at a garage sale, damn near everything we owned, to include my prized Celestron Telescope and my wife’s Mikasa China from her first marriage.

Just to eat.

(Food was a prerequisite back then)

Finally….

We made a stance.

My Long-time Bride and my Soul-Mate, and a veteran of the “hard days” tole me one day,

She said, “Lance’, this is no way to live! Do something! Any thing!”

So, I did.  I told her I was gonna join the U.S. Navy. And send her all her allotment and everything else. And meant it.

She initially balked at this  (and she was former U.S. Army Reserve) at that time.

She said to me, and I quote:

“Lance, you are gonna do this thing, right? Then, I ask of you one thing: I wanna be a house-wife for just one year… can you give me that?”

“Yes! I said.”

So I got another job and worked my ass…

And I gave her her one year.

Then I joined the Navy.

And I did not see her again for ten years.

And sometimes after all these years, I still miss our poverty days, because we were so happy being poor.

And I did serve my country, just as I had promised her I would (We, The Both, were Patriots, by an’ by…)

Navy!

tex flag

What does any of this have to do with Diego Garcia?

Stay tuned…

And, Once Yet Again, Thanks to Word-Depressed, I Cannot Properly Edit this One. I’m Shocked An’ Awed. F*ck You WP!

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I Just Wanted to Add Credit to Alanis Morissette

“Please Try this One. It’s F*ckin’ Funny! Input/Output: Electricity! (With Apologies to Joni Mitchell)”

This Post is all F*cked Up.

Thank YOU Word-Press & Go To F*ck Yourself

JONI!

Creds: JoniJourney

“They’re Not Gonna Fix It Up Too Easy”

“Break-Down of the Century”

The below is a comment I made over at Aussa’s Blog (a blog I can never say enough good things about), in response to one of her hilarious posts: Ridiculous On The Job Injuries

 http://aussalorens.com/2014/07/10/ridiculous-on-the-job-injuries/

Her prompt:  What’s the most ridiculous way you’ve injured yourself?

***

Back in the Middle Ages (1980’s) when I owned my tropical fish store in Nacogdoches (Yes, That ‘Oldest Town in Texas’),

I was trying to clean the front glass of one of my retail tanks (ten gallon) which housed an electric catfish (like an electric eel, but with higher amps and voltage).

I was standing on a stool as ‘Benny Franklin’s’ tank was on the third tier—you just know I had to name him—since I’d had him ‘in-stock’ for months (All the East Texans were interested in were guppies, goldfish, and ‘crud-eaters’).

Anyhow, as I was keeping a watchful eye on Benny, lest I inadvertently swerve my paw/forearm into him, a customer walked up to me, inquiring (rather vociferously) about where were the crud eaters (Yes, I have posted about crud-eaters),

I took my eye off the prize (my arm) just for-a-second. Yep: Bam! Brushed Benny and received a shock which knocked me off the stool and flat on my ass.

Input: Output Electricity

Malapterurus electricus- shock yer ass-officus

Embarrassed? What do you think?

I was supposedly a ‘professional aquarist.’ Apparently not-on-that-day. The potential crud-eater customer just looked down at me and announced dryly that she would try ‘Ben Franklin’s’ (coincidence? or irony?)

or better still Wal*Mart up the road. Guess I did not answer her query quick enough as I was taking my own sweet time in my sincere effort to start breathing again.

True Story: you can take my word for it.

Cheers to you Aussa,

Always my pleasure to visit y’all, and glean inspiration for future posts (sincerely).

–Lance

Video Credit: JoniJourney

Please Try this One. It’s Self-Deprecating Fuckin’ Fun!

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0

“Input/Output: Electricity!”

(With My Heart-Felt Apologies to Joni)

Vid Cred For video way below: Wp is StupiD!

The below is a comment I made over at Aussa’s Blog (a blog I can never say enough good things about), in response to one of her hilarious posts: Ridiculous On The Job Injuries

 http://aussalorens.com/2014/07/10/ridiculous-on-the-job-injuries/

Her prompt:  What’s the most ridiculous way you’ve injured yourself?

***

Back in the Middle Ages (1980’s) when I owned my tropical fish store in Nacogdoches (Yes, That ‘Oldest Town in Texas’),

I was trying to clean the front glass of one of my retail tanks (ten gallon) which housed an electric catfish (like an electric eel, but with higher amps and voltage). I was standing on a stool as ‘Benny Franklin’s’ tank was on the third tier—you just know I had to name him—since I’d had him ‘in-stock’ for months

(All the East Texans were interested in were guppies, goldfish, and ‘crud-eaters’).

Anyhow, as I was keeping a watchful eye on Benny, lest I inadvertently swerve my paw/forearm into him, a customer walked up to me, inquiring (rather vociferously) about where were the crud eaters (Yes, I have posted about crud-eaters).

I took my eye off the prize (my arm) just for-a-second.

Yep: Bam! Brushed Benny and received a shock which knocked me off the stool and flat on my ass.

Input: Output Electricity

Malapterurus electricus- shock yer ass-officus

Embarrassed? What do you think? I was supposedly a ‘professional aquarist.’

Apparently not-on-that-day. The potential crud-eater customer just looked down at me and announced dryly that she would try ‘Ben Franklin’s’ (coincidence? or irony?)

or better still Wal*Mart up the road.

Guess I did not answer her query quick enough as I was taking my own sweet time in my sincere effort to start breathing again.

True Story: you can take my word for it.

😉

Cheers to you Aussa,

Always my pleasure to visit y’all, and glean inspiration for future posts (sincerely).

–Lance

Video Credit: JoniJourney

Uh??? Why cannot I credit this? Fuck You WordPress!

Ironic!

Her-a-Tic!

Finally did it!

Managed to Up-Load it!

Credit:


Alanis Morissette

I adore you!

(But then again, I adore all women!)

Alanis Morissette

Sometimes There Just Aren’t Enuff Crud Eaters… To Go Around In This One-Horse Mouse-Town

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https://texantales.com/wp-admin/post.php?post=101787&action=edit

Very Disturbing Scene

After having accumulated a little money during my three years’ working in the Sinai Desert (Sinai Field Mission), I decided to come home to Texas. My wife (the first one) and I settled in Nacogdoches resolved to open a tropical fish store.

A dream I’d had since I was a kid. I had never been to Nacogdoches, but according to U.S. News & World Report, it was one of “The Ten Best Places to Live in the United States” and the city fathers had even erected a billboard on the main road into town proclaiming this quote from the magazine, just in case some folks missed reading that issue.

Nacogdoches, for any non-Texans who may be reading this, is Ass-Deep in the heart of the Deep East Texas Piney Woods—gorgeous country, simply breathtaking. ‘Paradise On Texas’.

We leased a small building on South Street, which was the southern part of the main drag through town, just off the square. Wanting everything to be perfect, I spent the entire summer of 1980 fitting out the inside of my shop. I built all the fixtures, assembled all the equipment, and even built the office desk my wife would be using to cook the books.

I built floor-to-ceiling rustic cabinets to display the sixty aquariums which would hold our retail stock. All that could be seen were the fronts of the tanks; no filters, hoses, wires or anything to wreck the ambiance.

The overhead lights were dimmed, keeping the atmosphere what one would expect in a fine Public Aquarium, most of the light coming only from the aquariums themselves.

At the very back of the store, I built a nine-foot by three-foot display tank, roughly 600 gallons—it was built into the wall, again so as not to ruin the effect. This was my dream aquarium, showcasing all the skills I had honed over a lifetime of fish-keeping. It was decorated with huge driftwood, rocky multi-leveled terraces, and no less than two dozen different varieties of live plants.

The effect was that of looking into a cross section of the Amazon River. Beautiful Blue Discus, shoals of Cardinal Tetras, various South American catfish, and many other exotic South American species were all stocked in this display. It was the perfect closed ecosystem.

display

Not MY Original Display Tank
Just A Reasonable Facsimile

The retail stock tanks were also painstakingly decorated to provide examples of how fish should be kept in a home aquarium.

No burping clams, no rotating ship’s wheels, no deep sea divers with bubbles coming out of their butt, no ‘Creatures from the Black Lagoon’, no ‘No Fishin’ signs—none of this dime-store shit in MY Shoppe. Oh Hell No. Every display reflected my fundamental conviction that tropical fish deserved to be represented in natural surroundings. Period.

Our store was beautiful. I set up five large display tanks in the entrance area, so that the first thing our customers would see were aquariums as they should be: All Natural: Live plants, Real Driftwood, wonderfully terraced natural gravel substrate, and of course exotic tropical fish. No goldfish, no guppies, no ‘trash fish’—for those they could go to Wal*Mart or Ben Franklin’s.

Continue reading →

My “For Real” Story of Diego Garcia, Part Three

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0

Part One Here

Part Two Here

The Eighties Kinda Sucked For Me. Not horribly but slightly. Now I will digress and tell you why.

During the Eighties, I came home from Egypt and SFM. I had spent the last three years of the Seventies in the Sinai Desert and these were glorious years for me. 

During the (very early) Eighties, actually very late Seventies, I got married.

At the beginning of the Eighties, Ronald Reagan was president and I was twenty-two years old: could not deny me or tell me anything! I had ‘seen’ the World!

Ronnie

During the Early Eighties, the Prime Lending Rate went from nine percent to twenty percent, thus making it real difficult for me to sustain a Small Business loan for my Tropical Fish Store.

I overcame all of this. By sheer guts and asshole-ness. (and by writing a seriously hot check, for three thousand dollars! I gave a shit not.)

But, I embraced it:

And somewhat thrived. Trickle Down, as they say, but not to mention, my bride and I slept on Army Cots for two years… We slept with the fishes.

And ate baked potatoes, cooked in a microwave which we had stolen borrowed. With pressed ham.

And the occasional onion… on Saturdays. And bacon on Sundays. And sometimes sour cream on Mondays.

We eventually left that place (after four years) Yep, we escaped Nacogdoches, Texas, which for us had been what we could imagine living in The Movie ‘Deliverance’ would have been like.

We escaped to Plano, Texas, which for many (but not us), was like living in the TV Show ‘Dallas’.

We discovered that we were more poor there than anywhere. In Nacogdoches we were ‘business owners’. In Plano we were just scum: no furniture, no fixtures, no nada: SCUM. We got thrown out of our first apartment because “Y’all don’t have no furniture and y’all are sleeping on the floor. This violates y’all’s lease agreement. Goodbye.”

We soldiered on…

We did sell, at a garage sale, damn near everything we owned, to include my prized Celestron Telescope and my wife’s Mikasa China from her first marriage.

Just to eat.

(Food was a prerequisite back then)

Finally….

We made a stance.

My Long-time Bride and my Soul-Mate, and a veteran of the “hard days” tole me one day,

She said, “Lance’, this is no way to live! Do something! Any thing!”

So, I did.  I told her I was gonna join the U.S. Navy. And send her all her allotment and everything else. And meant it.

She initially balked at this  (and she was former U.S. Army Reserve) at that time.

She said to me, and I quote:

“Lance, you are gonna do this thing, right? Then, I ask of you one thing: I wanna be a house-wife for just one year… can you give me that?”

“Yes! I said.”

So I got another job and worked my ass…

And I gave her her one year.

Then I joined the Navy.

And I did not see her again for ten years.

And sometimes after all these years, I still miss our poverty days, because we were so happy being poor.

And I did serve my country, just as I had promised her I would (We, The Both, were Patriots, by an’ by…)

Navy!

tex flag

What does any of this have to do with Diego Garcia?

Stay tuned…