Uniquely Random Memories from the Middle East Continued

“We made love in that birdhouse after sundown. And with the door open. And why not? We were young. (And we had all that ‘Diplomatic Immunity’ bullshit to boot)”

Thus ended my last ‘serious’ transmission regarding my recently orphaned series, bits of which may be found here  here  here  here…

WordPress is not Facebook and I would do well to remember this, yet if memory serves, the above is indeed how I did in fact, end my last sober transmission regarding this never-ending (Insha’Allah) story I still call without shame or sham, My Life.

Guess what Friends.  I am gonna end it now. Hang onto yer butts.

All true, but I have a tendency to grow bored with my own writing and this does not bode well, well…

I have just recently been returned from my Sabbatical, (kicking and screaming) which was spent in some dark happy place looking for answers. Finding none, save one, I have returned to these pages more or less now unobstructed and with fresh thoughts unobscured.

“Whatever does he mean, “Unobstructed”? “Hey Y’all! Come look he’ah! Lance done lost his mind!” (a-gin)

Means, Dear Readers that I am just gonna tell “THE TRUTH” from now on. Not that I have not ‘til now been telling same but, now I am gonna tell the Whole Truth, because by omission, I have been lying.

No Sugar, no mas.

This I gleaned from my Sabbatical. “So thanks Sabra. And thanks for the lobotomy, and gee! That shock therapy was da bomb!”

Stay tuned…

Oh! And to tie up that last loose end:

Janet and I spent a wonderful day or two at Sharm, then went back to SFM and carried on. Things kinda went to shit after that… for a spell.

But then we got married and it was all copacetic–For about two hours.

Yes it was on our honeymoon and we got into an argument and ended up after the ceremony un-ceremoniously sailing our newly purchased and vowed-upon wedding rings off the balcony of the Sheraton Hotel, (tenth floor) gleefully watching them bounce on the sand in front of the Mediterranean Sea, to wait there for some intrepid happy beach comber to later discover and claim ‘pirate treasure’ no doubt from Sodom and Gomorrah… (Yes, American tourists are stupid)

After we had ‘dissolved’ our new marriage in that ancient simple way,  we went back to drinking and fucking, and for some I suppose that is what one could call a decent marriage, at least in the early stages.

And honestly, I think that is all way too much information about my time spent with her and Moses in Sinai and in the ‘Rest-of-the-Holy-Land.’

But perhaps not.

(See? I am sharing “deep thoughts” here) with you thanks to my newly ended Sabbatical. Now don’t you feel ‘very unique’? (Ed. Note: I HATE that! There are no degrees of ‘unique’. You can look it up)

If ya wanna…

 Addendum:

I really don’t want to write about Janet but… damn it! She is such a wonderful, truly true, truly colorful, truly unique, one-hundred-and-one pounds of fun character, especially after we arrived in Nacogdoches Texas and began our ‘unique’ married life.

We are all, all of us, ‘very unique individuals’.

Ain’t we?

Or aren’t we all just deluding our own unique selves?

Probably will be continued when They let me out again for ‘Social Time’

mscientist 

And Finally I leave you with a good Sunday Morning Song. We used to sing this as we ran in formation to chow when I was in BUD/s Class 158. Can you imagine? Probably not.

Video Credit: 

 tnDianna

Now I sing this every morning… in the shower… with the hot water… so no one will ever hear…

Vid credit? I suppose Sheryl…

And the final finally, I leave Y’all with the most perfect’est Sunday Morning Song:

Video Credit: Public Domain (I hope)

 

“Please Stand By”

Now, I know what a few of you (you happy few) may be thinking:

“Lance has run out of material to honestly write about.” (Since I seem of late to be posting only video and Lenny bits with a few rants thrown in for balance.)

And I can certainly understand how you might come to that conclusion.
Please allow me to assure you: nothing could be further from the truth.
Without putting too fine a point on it, I am in a transition. (Personally, not Blog-wise—I remain true to my Charter and the ambitions that prompted me to launch this Blog—so don’t get worried.

And I did reserve the right to follow ‘much more as becomes my wont, )

There is a wealth of old and new and in-between stuff on deck. And trying not to get cliché, I may be forced to pull the plug soon, but only for a little while until I land back on my feet.
So…

If you log on to me one day and see this:

Please Stand By
Please Stand By

 

You will know what happened.
Thank y’all for your support.
And by the way, Now I am going to spend the rest of my time this evening catching up with all y’all folks out there whom I enjoy following.
(And damnit! Tis a sad Day For Me here In Mudville, ‘cause Mighty Phil (Mickelson) has struck out. The good news is that there is a Texan leading ‘The Masters’ going into the final round tomorrow.
Rock On! Jordan Spieth!

(See? I can do white. With the best)

beside the point….

At some risk of pissing off the Civil Rights’ Folks I am leaving you with this Sam Cooke. And certainly not trying to co-op the Civil Rights’ Movement, but when words and songs and meaning from a movement cannot touch all the people, well then it is really not a ‘movement’ per se, is it?

And it is a really cool song: part of our American Heritage; not just for Black Folk.

But for all of us who need change.

Hope you enjoy the inspiration.

Cheers,

Lance