We spent that Friday afternoon and most of Saturday enjoying the Bluegrass festival while swilling beers and smoking lots of cigarettes. During the late evenings we would share burgers, listen to all sorts of music on my little boom box, drink whiskey and have great sex. We also talked of many things, but nothing too heavy. We were enjoying ourselves.
Sunday noon we checked out of the motel and sadly headed west back to San Dog. It had been a perfect weekend and I truly regretted the ending of it. Shonnie impressed me more and more with her worldly wisdom, and in spite of no formal higher education, she seemed to know a lot about a lot. Mostly about the important shit: Life. She had not one ounce of pretentiousness in her small body. (Small, very sexy body) Both of us were inventive and creative in bed. Did I mention the sex was fantastic? I am certain I did.
Knowing my duty schedule on the USS Frederick, I knew it would be three weeks until I had another weekend completely devoid of any responsibilities as a sailor. I had already formulated a plan to ‘kidnap’ her when that free weekend came about.
During the ensuing days we kept up our regular rendezvous schedule. More and more I looked forward to seeing her and getting to know her even better. She was reluctant to tell me very much about her life, but bits and pieces did come out between slow dancing, drinking, smoking, and fucking. Her father had left her and her mother when she was still quite young. ‘He was an abusive type’, was about all the detail I got from her, but I could occasionally catch a glimpse of sorrow and pain in her eyes. I refrained from broaching the subject of her husband-the-biker. In fact, the fact that she was married at all, slipped away from my mind like so much quick silver…
One Saturday night she had me drive us to a Mall.
“Okay, what are we doing here?” I asked her. Malls ain’t my thing, you see.”
“I wanna buy you something,” she replied.
“Oh no you don’t. I have everything I need.”
“No. You need this, c’mon.”
She led me to a record shop and began searching the bins.
“What’re you looking for?” I asked.
“Gimme a sec. Oh here it is,” she announced happily pulling a cassette from the bin.
“What’s that?”
“You’ll love it. Trust me.”
“I’m already in-love….with you, you crazy bitch.”
She purchased Nighthawks at the Diner by Tom Waits, an artist I had never heard of….
Until Shonnie.
We drove to Balboa Park, and opening some beers to go with our whiskey we listened to the cassette. I loved it from the very first minute. My Girl had me all figured out. It was just a little disconcerting, how she had so easily pegged me and yet to me she was still mostly an enigma.
After the sun set we started our make out session, then she did something unexpected. She unbuckled my jeans and started giving me head. This had never happened before and to say I was quite pleased would be an understatement bordering on the felonious. Just as I was really getting into it, she stopped suddenly, looked up at me with those piercing blue eyes and said solemnly, “If you come in my mouth, I will kill you.”
Well, that kind of ruined ‘My’ moment, but actually in a good way. It struck me so funny that I just could not help bursting out laughing. It was priceless. Make out session temporarily put on hold and my fondness for her intensified.
The next weekend (my ‘freedom’ one), we met at our usual rendezvous point. She, on instructions from me given over a pay phone, had brought along a bag with extra clothes and whatever other tricks of her trade she needed for a two-and-a-half day ‘excursion’, along with a pass from her mom relieving her of motherly duties for the weekend.
“So Cowboy, where are we going?”
“Vegas,” I said. “My turn to ‘educate’ you My Love.”
“Woolworth Rhinestone diamond earrings and a sideways glance”
That A “Green-New-Deal” Windmill Would Have A ‘Carbon Footprint’ Fifty Times Larger
Than My
1999 Gas Guzzlin’ Ford Explorer?
Cred: KHOU 11
****
AOC?
Naw!
I’ll Pass
“This is SERIOUS!”
Uh… NO. It’s Not
***
M. Moore Bonus Round:
Planet of the Humans
Worth A Watch
(ROLEX)
Blows A Massive Hole In the ‘Green / Renewable Energy’ Myth
“It’s Not Easy Being Green”
“Michael Moore was executive producer of the documentary, Planet of the Humans, which was directed by Jeff Gibbs and released on July 31, 2019.
The film makes the argument that since the first Earth Day, the condition of the planet has worsened, and questions whether mainstream approaches adopted by industry to mitigate climate change entail environmental impacts whose costs are comparable to or even possibly outweigh the benefits.
The film received criticism from a number of climate change experts and activists who disputed its claims and the accuracy of figures cited in the film and suggested that the film could play into the hands of the fossil fuel industry.”
We spent the rest of that Friday and most of Saturday enjoying the Bluegrass Festival while swilling beers and smoking lots of cigarettes.
During the late evenings we shared burgers, listened to all sorts of music on my little boom box, drank whiskey and had great sex.
We also talked a lot about a lot of things, but nothing too heavy.
We were enjoying ourselves.
Sunday noon we checked out of the motel and slightly sorrowfully, headed west back to San Dog. It had been a truly perfect weekend and we both regretted the ending of it.
Shonnie impressed me more and more with her worldly wisdoms, and in spite of having no formal higher education, she seemed to know a lot about a lot. Mostly about the important shit: Life.
She had not one ounce of insincerity, pretentiousness, nor of ‘I’m a Sexy Diva wrapped in a small, concentrated package. Worship me’ in her small little body. (Small, very sexy, very energetic little body) Both of us were inventive and creative in bed, but she could’ve been some kind of ‘Concentrated Diva’ had she wanted to.
She didn’t want to.
She knew exactly Who She was and Who She wanted to be:
Just Shonnie.
Did I mention the sex with her was fantastic?
Fairly certain I did.
Knowing my duty schedule on the Callaghan, I knew it would be three weeks until I had another weekend completely devoid of any sailor related responsibilities.
I had already formulated a plan to ‘kidnap’ Her when that free weekend came to pass, and me with my ‘Weekend Pass’.
During the ensuing days we kept up our regular rendezvous schedule. More and more I looked forward to seeing her and getting to know her even better. In fact, time spent away from her was beginning to become more and more unbearable.
“This is not good Sailor,” I kept trying to remind myself, “You have allowed yourself to become vulnerable. If you lose this one, you’re gonna have a Very Bad Day-Week-Month-Year—Life.”
She was reluctant to tell me very much about her life, but bits and pieces did come out during slow dancing, drinking, smoking, and fucking, ‘making love’.
Her father had left her and her mother when she was still quite young. ‘He was an abusive drunk type’, was about all the detail I got from her, but I could occasionally catch a glimpse of sorrow and pain in her eyes whenever I asked about her ‘growing up years’.
So I quit asking.
We were living in-the-moment, Our Moment. Hers and My moment. So Fucking Happy Together.
Honestly Happy Every Moment We Were Together.
Un Happy Every Moment We Weren’t.
(Making a hopeful assumption here, regarding how ‘She’ was feeling during the times we were not together)
Happy Together – The Turtles (1967)Vid Share Cred: Cameron Posh
***
This is what we were all about: The in-the-moment-happy-together-existence. Carrying on as the slightly flawed, yet also slightly perfect, ‘couple’ and ‘match.’
I refrained completely from broaching the subject of her husband-the-biker. In fact, the mere fact that she was married at all had rapidly run away from my brain like so much spilt quicksilver…
One Saturday night she had me drive us to a Mall.
“Okay, what are we doing here?” I asked. “Malls ain’t my thing.”
“Mine neither, but I wanna buy you something.
“Oh Hell-no-you-don’t. I have everything I need.”
It’s Important to ME, damn it!” she replied. You gonna give me attitude now, Sailor-Boy?” You need this, c’mon.”
She led me by the hand to the mall and into a ‘musicland’ record shop.
None too delicately, she immediately attacked the cassette bins. When Shonnie is in pursuit of something, Any Somethingthat is ‘important’ to Her, there is no holding her back, slowing her down, and don’t even foolishly consider trying to stop her.
“What’re you looking for?” I asked finally, as she kept up her ransacking efforts.
“Gimme a sec! Will ya? Oh here it is!” she announced a little too loudly, pulling a cassette from the bin and keeping it from my view.
“What’s that?”
“You’ll love it. Just trust me.”
“I’m already in-LOVE. With YOU, you crazy Bitch.” (I did NOT say this aloud; only in my head.)
She had in her clutches, Nighthawks at the Diner, she eventually allowed me to discover. It was an album by Tom Waits, an artist I had never heard of…
Until Shonnie…
She made me keep my distance once she had captured her quarry and headed toward the check-out.
“Go stand over there while I pay for this,” she commanded while pointing to the very front of the store.
I dutifully did as ordered while shaking my head. Thinking “Well, That’s My Gal.”
We drove to Balboa Park.
I found a nice, secluded place for the Toranado. Cracked open some beers to go with our whiskey while Shonnie dropped in the ‘Mystery Cassette’ and twisted the volume knob.
Up.
Way Up.
“Stand by for heavy rolls as the ship comes about Sailor-Boy,” she giggled.
(I sincerely wished she’d stop calling me that, but itseemed to make her happy to do so and what a small price for me to pay to see her wonderful smile and hear her wonderful laugh.)
I’d taught her that, my most favorite bona-fide ‘sailor-phrase’, although I could not remember when or even why—at least she remembered—and when used properly in context and in a suitable situation, it is a handy phrase to have in one’s repertoire.
Twenty seconds into Waits’ ‘Opening Intro,’ I was a fan. Call it ‘love-at-first listen’, an extremely rare occurrence for me.
But My Girl had me all figured out.
It was just a little disconcerting, how she had so easily tagged, pegged, and captured me, and yet to me she was still mostly an enigma.
“OK. Show me the cassette case now please,”
“Here ya go Baby, she said, handing it to me.
“’Tom Waits’. Never heard of him, but this is some great shit Shonnie Darlin’.”
She smiled demurely at me and said, “Yeah, I know, and now so do you. You’re welcome.”
I grabbed her and kissed her for a long time. Finally she pulled away from my embrace.
“Time enough for that later. Listen to the music. The whole album is one story. Kinda like a thin book. Pay fuckin’ attention.”
“Okay. Okay. No need to get all testy.”
She softened her voice and cooed, “Pay fucking attention, please. How’s that?”
“Better,” I said, as I tried to kiss her again.
“For fuck’s sake. Listen to the Goddamn story.”
“I am. I love good stories and when folded into great music. Bam! I was just pushing your ‘Shonnie Button’. And I am paying attention.”
She sweetly glared at me.
(“Should I tell her now?” I was asking myself. “No.” was the answer I received. “Wait for Vegas. Then tell her. You will know when the time is right.”)
Then I hung up the phone in my head and hundred percent focused my attentions on Shonnie and Tom (And the Jim Beam I was enjoying.)
Warm Beer and Cold Women
***
After the sun set we started our make out session. Then she did something very much unexpected. She unbuckled my jeans and started giving me head.
This had never happened before and to say I was quite pleased would be an understatement bordering on the felonious.
Just as I was really getting into it, she stopped suddenly, looked up at me with those piercing blue eyes and said solemnly,
“If you come in my mouth, I will kill you.”
Well, that kind of ruined ‘My’ Moment, but actually in a good way. It struck me so funny that I just could not help bursting out laughing. It was priceless.
Make out session temporarily put on hold and my fondness for her greatly amplified.
The next weekend (my ‘freedom’ one), we met at our usual rendezvous point. She, on instructions from me given over a pay phone, had brought along a bag with extra clothing items and whatever else ‘tricks of her trade’ she needed for a sustained two-and-a-half day ‘excursion’.
She also had a signed ‘liberty pass’ from her mom relieving her of motherly duties for the weekend. (Ok, she did not have an actual ‘signed’ document—I made that up—but she did have verbal permission and even a blessing from her mother.)
“Thanks ‘Mom.’“
“So Cowboy, where are we going?”
“Vegas,” I said. “’Sin City’. Should be right up your alley. My turn to ‘educate’ you My Love.”
‘Love?’ How did that slip out?
Had I already told her that I loved her? While drunk perhaps? Pretty sure I had not at that point, but it was on my ‘To Do List’ and a weekend in Vegas would put me in the perfect environment to take such a gamble with my heart.
I just have to remember the old gamblers mantra in-case she did not love me back yet:
“Never throw good money after bad.”
“Night Hawks”
Perfect Metaphor for Lance and Shonnie Together
“Woolworth Rhinestone diamond earrings and a sideways glance”
–Greatest line from any song.
***
One Might Also Describe Our Relationship in Terms of “Opposites Attract.”
Some Bonus ‘Added Value’ below for all you Waits Fans out there in ‘Radio Land.’
“Emotional Weather Report”
Putnam County
***
And Yet Even More ‘Added Value’ Below:
How I recall the Mystical Magic That Life Held for Me During My Time Spent with Shonnie:
“Wicket Games”
Chris Isaak
***
Commentary Below From The Original Post.
For Continuity, Please Start at the Bottom and Read Up
And Thank You if you have made it this far.
Best Regards,
Lance
LAMarcom June 20, 2014 at 18:31 Edit
Thank you Sadie 🙂
Yep, after all my years and all my wives, I still do not quite understand women. I guess if I did, some of the magic would go away. (No. That is not sexist–it is just that the female mind fascinates me)
😉
~ Sadie ~ June 20, 2014 at 17:44 Edit
Loving this story, Mr. Marcum 🙂 “It was just a little disconcerting, how she had so easily pegged me and yet to me she was still mostly an enigma.” — love the way you worded this & YES we women can be awfully good at that, at times 😉 Can’t wait to read more!!!
lauramacky June 20, 2014 at 09:16 Edit
you’re welcome!
LAMarcom June 20, 2014 at 09:12 Edit
Thanks for the kind words Mark. Movie eh? Writing it and remembering those days does run like a movie in my mind.
Cheers My Friend
LAMarcom June 20, 2014 at 09:10 Edit
Waits is definitely one of my favorites. I have Shonnie to thank for that!
Thanks Laura!
lauramacky June 20, 2014 at 09:05 Edit
I haven’t listened to Tom waits in ages! 🙂
markbialczak June 20, 2014 at 08:33 Edit
This is shaping up as a pretty interesting movie, Lance. Really. Especially if it keeps getting better, as I suspect. Write on!
LAMarcom June 20, 2014 at 08:11 Edit
And ‘Chocolate Jesus’ 😉
Thanks for your visit! And for your comment.
Cheers, -Lance
LAMarcom June 20, 2014 at 08:09 Edit
Hahaha!
I will! I will!
Cheers Mate!
happierheathen June 20, 2014 at 03:56 Edit
Dammit, man, get to writing! 🙂
Diana June 20, 2014 at 02:58 Edit
ohhh….”please call me baby” and “the heart of saturday night” – – my two favorite tom waits songs.
LAMarcom June 19, 2014 at 23:44 Edit
Thanks.
Means a lot coming from you.
Teela Hart June 19, 2014 at 23:42 Edit
I will most definitely stay tuned.
How could I not?
You tell a damn good story!
😀
T
LAMarcom June 19, 2014 at 23:38 Edit
I’ll give you a hint…
Naw.
You just gotta stay tuned.
Thanks for reading.
🙂
P.S. Next to Lenny, Tom Waits is my Hero.
Along with Janis, Jimi, Jimmy, Willie, Waylon, Kris, Jim M., …and on and on..
Teela Hart June 19, 2014 at 23:35 Edit
I knew nothing of Tom Waits until visiting.
I really love his sound.
I’m loving the saga, we never know what’s comin next.
🙂
LAMarcom June 19, 2014 at 23:01 Edit
I have left little pieces of me all over Las Vegas.
Hahahah
Thanks Friend for your visit and comment.
Cheers,
-Lance
quarksire June 19, 2014 at 22:59 Editeducate er loose 🙂 LoL 🙂 .ya neva know! 🙂
Around about three a.m. I was pulling the Toranado up in front of her house, actually, turns out, her mother’s house.
During the course of our conversation after leaving the bar’s parking lot Shonnie revealed to me that she had left her husband, who was a biker, and moved in with her mother.
She had a nine-year-old son who suffered from a crippling disease and though fairly independent, still required almost twenty-four hour supervision.
I asked her why she felt compelled to move out of her house and she told me her husband was overly jealous and had a ‘bit of a mean streak’.
(Perfect, I thought: A jealous Biker with a mean streak and I had just finished screwing his wife.)
Twice
Smooth Lance. Real smooth.
In spite of this revelation, and in the department of ‘I shouda known better’, I agreed we ‘needed’ to continue seeing each other, so we set a date for the following Saturday night, back at the bar, which I have decided to arbitrarily Christen ‘Gilley’s Lite’.
A., Because I am tired of calling it all sorts of generic names.
And B., Because this is My Blog and I can do whatever I like.
For the next several weeks we continued our weekly rendezvous, sometimes meeting on a Friday if I had ‘Duty’ on Saturday. Occasionally even sneaking in a mid-week ‘booster shot’ rendezvous on a Wednesday or Thursday night.
Basically, we would drink and dance and romance. (Still only slow dancing, but once I did allow her an attempt at teaching me the ‘Two-Step,’ with semi-disastrous results: Pretty sure I had embarrassed her no end, for she never broached That Subject again.)
Of course after we had closed down the bar, uh, I mean ‘Gilley’s Lite’, we would retire to the Toranadofor some late night, great night, great sex.
And it was all good. Not just the great, energetically, intensely, passionately acting of ourlove-making. (We had ‘up-graded’; no longer did we ‘fuck’.We ‘made love’.)Yes, I was in the midst of ‘Stage-Four Deep Emotional Vulnerability’.
No!
Not Just The Sex!
The whole just ‘Being-with-Shonnie‘ experience was great.
And better now that she was arriving in her own car (Miss Layla having moved on to find a new BFF to Chaperone) and I did not have to risk accidentally running into ‘Jealous-Biker-Dude-With-A-Mean-Streak-Estranged-Husband at her momma’s house at three or four in the morning.
Eventually we grew weary of the bar, ‘Gilley’s Lite’ scene and went straight for the sex, generally in some out of the way dark and empty parking lot.
But every once in a while, usually right after one of my paydays, we’d find ourselves in some ‘Budget Motel’, read ‘Cheap and Sleezy’. Some in San Diego even rented by-the-hour, and even though I was trash,Shonnie was not. So I never, ever considered those venues as even a remotely viable option.
This new routine went on for some several more weeks.
One weekend I had a rare three whole days off duty, so we planned an ‘outing’, or rather, ‘she planned an outing’. She managed to get her mom to take full responsibility of the kid for the entire three days and we met up in a parking lot in Pacific Beach.
She got out of her car with a small suitcase, locked up, jumped into my car, inquiring breathlessly, “You got plenty of gas?”
“Not really,” I said. “Why?”
“I’m kidnapping you, and we have some miles to cover today.”
“Road trip?” I asked.
“Yep, and while we’re gassing up, we need to get some booze and maybe some munchies.”
“Hey, I’m all in. Hell! Let’s do it.”
So without even asking where we were going, I took care of the logistical tasks. Once we were fueled-up, stocked up, and by then, slightly fucked-up(With excitement and more than just a little bit giddy over the prospect of our two-and-a-half days of just being together and doingwhat-ever-the-hell-we-damned-well-pleased…)
As she directed me to start heading east toward the desert, I asked,
“So Shonnie, where’re we going?”
“Away from all this San Diego Shit an’ into the desert,” she said.
“This much, I have already figured out, but where, and why?”
“Tell ya when we get there,” was all she said as she dropped ZZ Top’s Tres Hombres into my cassette player, firing up “Jesus Just Left Chicago” which started mid-way through. Couldn’t really talk over that, so I just kept driving east.
***
OH MY GOD! THIS IS
GABBY PETITO!
DURING HAPPIER TIMES FOR HER. SHOULD I LEAVE IT IN?OR DELETE IT?
NO!
I WILL NOT “DELETE” HER!
That would be disresectful
Ed. Note: Remember, this photo was just one I pulled off the Net, back in June. It is not here for any other reason than I needed a photo of a beautiful blond to represent Shonnie. I am honoured, to have her ‘Live on’ in my story.
GABBY
An hour or so later we were pulling into some little town called ‘Alpine’. It seemed nice enough, I suppose, if just a little dusty and brown. But apparently, we had come in through the ‘back door’, as later I would see mountains in the background and green areas too!
Also, I discovered later, that ‘Alpine’ was the ‘Austin’ of Eastern Southern California, famous for live music and various other attractions. According to the 2000 census, Alpine had a population of 13,143 people, so probably substantially less on the weekend of our visit (didn’t say how many dogs, but I saw a lot of dogs that day)
And also famous for quirky sites to visit:
Alpine, California: Dead Dolly Lane
“Find us a motel. If you take the next left, I’m sure you’ll find the Perfect One, but don’t let me tell you what to do.” she said, after turning down the stereo which she had kept cranked-up during the entire trip: ZZ Top, Marshall Tucker Band, Hank Jr…. It was about two in the afternoon.
I ignored her smart-assed instructions and loved them all at the same moment.
Performing as ordered, I turned a corner and sure-as-shit, ran into this ‘Perfect-for-us’ run-down, kinda sandy, sleezy-lookin’joint:
As we were getting out of the car I asked her, while discretely pointing at a bored-looking girl sitting on the porch, “Reckon that’s the manager? One night or two?”
“Two.”
“You’re the boss,” I said as I got out and headed to the office.
I always kept most of my civilian clothes in the trunk of my ‘Tornado’ since there really was not much room on the USS Callaghan DDG 994 for anything in my locker other than uniforms.
I grabbed some civvies out of the trunk and along with my Babe, headed toward our new little love nest.
The room was Spartan, but adequate. At least it had regular sized towels and no roaches that I could see.
Actually, it was clean and tidy. There was a tiny TV on the dresser-drawers and a regular-sized bed, two chairs and a small coffee table which had some initials carved into it along with a review offered by a previous occupant succinctly describing their experience while staying in this establishment:
“J and J had sex here. 1981. Hiley Rec’mend”
Very quaint, I thought.
“Hey Shonnie,” I said to her back as she unpacked, “Do you have a pocket knife? I’m feelin’ sorta ‘literary’.”
“What? Too soon to slit yer wrists City Boy. What for?”
“’City Boy’? That hurt. Never mind,” I laughed.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” she said, already half-way through peeling off her shirt and blue jeans. “Join me?”
“Yup.”
We did the shower sex, er… ‘love-making’ then wearing nothing but towels, sat on the bed and had a drink or two over some Marlboros.
“Okay Shonnie,” I said. “You gonna tell me now exactly why we’re here, ‘miles from nowhere’, on this hot and dusty Friday afternoon?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She said.
“Nope… I mean it’s lovely an’ all, and good to be out of town an’ all, but if you just wanted a sleazy motel room and me all to yer lonesome, we coulda done that in San Dog and saved the gas.”
“You told me you were a ‘romantic’.
“Yeah. Yeah. I did. Uh… I mean I am, but…”
“Get dressed. We have a place to be this afternoon.”
So we got dressed, grabbed the Beam and cigs, locked up our room and headed to the car.
“You got a beer cooler stashed in your trunk or somewhere?” She said as we pulled out of the parking lot.
“You know I do,” I said.
“Good, take a left. There’s a Seven Eleven up the street. We need some more beers and some more cigs.”
“Roger that.”
That mission properly dispatched, Shonnie played navigator and back seat driver and eventually we ended up in a dusty park.
A dusty park teaming with people.
And Music.
Bluegrass Music.
She had kidnapped me to a Blue Grass Festival! Surprised? Yep.
Shocked?
By Shonnie?
Nope.
Nothing shocking me about this gal anymore.
We parked the now very dusty ‘Tornado’ next to all the other dusty cars and trucks and Harleys and climbed out.
People were milling about everywhere. I noticed more than a few walking around with beer bottles in their hands. Shonnie was anxiously walking ahead of me. I yelled,
“Shonnie! Stop!”
Turning around, somewhat glaring at me, she demanded,“What IS it?” (Occasionally, Shonnie exhibits No Patience)
“Come with me back to the car for a sec, Ok?”
Grumbling as she made her way back to the car, then once next to me, in a lower, calmer voice, said, slowly and ‘matter-of-factly’,
“Ok, here we are, back-at-the-fuckin-car. Why? You don’t like ‘Blue Grass’?”
“Darlin’ I love ‘Every-Thing’ when I’m with You, but we forgot something.”
She yawned as sheleaned against the driver’s sidedoor while lighting a Marlboro.
Opening the trunk, I began fishing bottles of beer out of the cooler, drying each bottle with a towel I kept with the beers for just such purpose.
“Baby,” I said. “Come over here with that big-ass purse of yours that never has nothin’ in it.”
She sauntered over to stand next to the trunk and opened her bag, allowing me to cram several beers into it.
“Ya know, Cowboy, we can always walk back over here and get more beers. Don’t have to make me carry a portable brewery around in this damn heat all day.”
“Shit! You’re right. What was I thinking?” I said.
Shonnie rolled her baby blues at me and opened her bag once again.
I retrieved a few of the beers and placed them back into the cooler, leaving only four in her ‘purse-big-ass-bag’.
“Much better. Now those beers can breathe, and so can I,” she laughed.
“Smart ass.” Was I could come up with, by way of a retort.
“Come on. Let’s get on over to the stage.”
During our casual trek, I was observing all the folks in attendance. All sorts of folks, mostly dressed in ‘Real, Bona-Fide’ attire: Straw Cowboy hats, Gimme Caps, Jeans, Some Daisy-Dukes and halter tops on a few of the Ladies, Boots, Beers in hand, Smiling, Rowdy Faces, and on and on…
Real “My kind of People” stuff adorned them, is what I’m sayin’.
There were older, younger, very older, very younger and everything-in-between folks. Little kids runnin’ wild laughing and whooping it up.
Everyone was havin’ FUN!
Woodstock it weren’t, but
DAMN!
It was Heaven to this Cowboy, especially after suffering that joint in San Dog where Shonnie and I had first met.
As we drew near the stage the crowd grew denser and tighter (No ‘Social Distancing’ back then and certainly not at this venue.)
Everyone was pleased-as-pie just to share the love of the music and the camaraderie.
The band on–stage started up with their rendition of ‘Uncle Pen’, a song which was in fact, very familiar to me.
Bill Monroe–The Man, The Myth, The Legend!
The folks in front of the stand went nuts!
Clapping their hands and stomping their feet.
A-Whoopin’ and A- Hollerin’
Shonnie and I joined in.
And I Loved it!
And She Loved it!
And I may have been falling in ‘for-real-love’ with Shonnie at this point.
Screw that!
That is a lie!
I had been in ‘for real love’ with her from ‘Night One.’
Just had a little trouble admitting it to myself.
Until That Moment.
For You See?
IHadFooled Around And Fallen In Love
Title: Fooled Around And Fell In Love (Elvin Bishop)
Commentary From The Original Version. As before,for continuity, I recommend you start at the bottom and read your way up.
***
LAMarcom July 22, 2014 at 19:33 Edit
I don’t know what I’m doin’ half the time…
Hahaha.
Thanks for the read my Friend.
Tony Single July 22, 2014 at 18:11 Edit
I have no idea where this is going. (This is a good thing.)
LAMarcom July 21, 2014 at 13:06 Edit
Hi Shelley,
Sorry for the tardy response. Slipped in under my radar.
Thanks for reading and commenting. Always.
Cheers,
Lance
peakperspective July 12, 2014 at 14:04 Edit
You had me wondering where the field trip was heading–nearly thought it might have been the end for you there, Lance, but how lucky … Bluegrass. Hot diggedy.
Waiting with bated breath for Chapter 4. 🙂
markbialczak June 18, 2014 at 21:40 Edit
🙂
LAMarcom June 18, 2014 at 21:37 Edit
Mark,
I was joking.
I am a sap for a happy ending.
Always
😉
markbialczak June 18, 2014 at 21:25 Edit
Not necessarily, Lance.
LAMarcom June 18, 2014 at 19:49 Edit
Thanks Mark.
There is enough for five or six more…
Happy Endings are so boring though. Wouldn’t you agree?
markbialczak June 18, 2014 at 19:02 Edit
I indeed am rooting for a happy ending. Yet the realist in me … You go, Lance! Make the magic last five or six more chapters, please do!
LAMarcom June 18, 2014 at 18:32 Edit
Aw C’mon Mark.
Don’t ya want the story to have a happy ending?
Hehehe
Cheers,
-Lance
LAMarcom June 18, 2014 at 18:31 Edit
Hahaha! Nope, wasn’t me!
“Me no Alamo.”
Hey thanks Friend.
LAMarcom June 18, 2014 at 18:27 Edit
I agree. Imagine the nerve of that woman! Calling me, ME! A City Boy!
Hahahaha
Thanks Annie.
🙂
Mad Annie, Bronwyn, Ann June 18, 2014 at 13:48 Edit
“City boy”… when I called someone that, it was the Kiss of Death! LOL
happierheathen June 18, 2014 at 07:55 Edit
My Texican second wife tried to teach me to two-step. I usually made it three or four steps. Step, step, get confused, shuffle a bit, step, shuffle, shuffle, trip, cuss. She and I once made an escape to a “rustic” motel in the desert, too. And she had a thing for picking up guys at urban poser cowboy bars. If it weren’t for it being a crippled son instead of two perfectly healthy daughters I’d think one of you had changed her name and you were banging my wife.
Hanging on the edge of my seat here, man.
markbialczak June 18, 2014 at 07:19 Edit
Oh, great bluegrass fest twist, Lance. I’m digging the serial and biding my time until Biker hubby appears, in, what, next chapter, or the one after?
We spent that Friday afternoon and most of Saturday enjoying the Bluegrass festival while swilling beers and smoking lots of cigarettes. During the late evenings we would share burgers, listen to all sorts of music on my little boom box, drink whiskey and have great sex. We also talked of many things, but nothing too heavy. We were enjoying ourselves.
Sunday noon we checked out of the motel and sadly headed west back to San Dog. It had been a perfect weekend and I truly regretted the ending of it. Shonnie impressed me more and more with her worldly wisdom, and in spite of no formal higher education, she seemed to know a lot about a lot. Mostly about the important shit: Life. She had not one ounce of pretentiousness in her small body. (Small, very sexy body) Both of us were inventive and creative in bed. Did I mention the sex was fantastic? I am certain I did.
Knowing my duty schedule on the USS Frederick, I knew it would be three weeks until I had another weekend completely devoid of any responsibilities as a sailor. I had already formulated a plan to ‘kidnap’ her when that free weekend came about.
During the ensuing days we kept up our regular rendezvous schedule. More and more I looked forward to seeing her and getting to know her even better. She was reluctant to tell me very much about her life, but bits and pieces did come out between slow dancing, drinking, smoking, and fucking. Her father had left her and her mother when she was still quite young. ‘He was an abusive type’, was about all the detail I got from her, but I could occasionally catch a glimpse of sorrow and pain in her eyes. I refrained from broaching the subject of her husband-the-biker. In fact, the fact that she was married at all, slipped away from my mind like so much quick silver…
One Saturday night she had me drive us to a Mall.
“Okay, what are we doing here?” I asked her. Malls ain’t my thing, you see.”
“I wanna buy you something,” she replied.
“Oh no you don’t. I have everything I need.”
“No. You need this, c’mon.”
She led me to a record shop and began searching the bins.
“What’re you looking for?” I asked.
“Gimme a sec. Oh here it is,” she announced happily pulling a cassette from the bin.
“What’s that?”
“You’ll love it. Trust me.”
“I’m already in-love….with you, you crazy bitch.”
She purchased Nighthawks at the Diner by Tom Waits, an artist I had never heard of….
Until Shonnie.
We drove to Balboa Park, and opening some beers to go with our whiskey we listened to the cassette. I loved it from the very first minute. My Girl had me all figured out. It was just a little disconcerting, how she had so easily pegged me and yet to me she was still mostly an enigma.
After the sun set we started our make out session, then she did something unexpected. She unbuckled my jeans and started giving me head. This had never happened before and to say I was quite pleased would be an understatement bordering on the felonious. Just as I was really getting into it, she stopped suddenly, looked up at me with those piercing blue eyes and said solemnly, “If you come in my mouth, I will kill you.”
Well, that kind of ruined ‘My’ moment, but actually in a good way. It struck me so funny that I just could not help bursting out laughing. It was priceless. Make out session temporarily put on hold and my fondness for her intensified.
The next weekend (my ‘freedom’ one), we met at our usual rendezvous point. She, on instructions from me given over a pay phone, had brought along a bag with extra clothes and whatever other tricks of her trade she needed for a two-and-a-half day ‘excursion’, along with a pass from her mom relieving her of motherly duties for the weekend.
“So Cowboy, where are we going?”
“Vegas,” I said. “My turn to ‘educate’ you My Love.”
“Woolworth Rhinestone diamond earrings and a sideways glance”
