I am just a Foolish Fool! Up-Dated–I Cannot Wrap My Moron Mind Around How I Managed To Leave Out Some Of The Most Important Vids!

“She’s Like The Wind”–“Just A Fool to Believe”

“Jennifer Grey, Okay?! I Know She Was a Famed Flaming Bitch to Work With–Precisely Why I Love Her So Marvelous Much!

(And Some Other Superfluous Stuff)”

This is So ‘Eighties’

I LOVE IT!

******

“She’s Like The Wind”

“Dirty Dancing”

Screen Test:

Like The Wind:

I look in the mirror and all I see
Is a young old man with only a dream
Am I just fooling myself
That she’ll stop the pain?
Living without her
I’d go insane
I feel her breath in my face
Her body close to me
Can’t look in her eyes
She’s out of my league
Just a fool to believe
I have anything she needs
She’s like the wind

****

She’d Drive Me Insane

******

*******

Dirty Dancing – “Mambo – Dance Training” (1987)

Cred Fir Share: Stu Pollard

******

Fool to Believe

The Doobie Brothers – What A Fool Believes

Pay Close Attention to the Lyrics

or

You Miss The Entire Point of the Exercise

******

(This below is a Very Gaay Vid, But I Love The SONG)

Jennifer: Honesty

Wonderful Classy Lady:

Just a Fool To Believe

Love Her…. Unconditionally

(And That’s A Stretch For Me)

YES! JENNIFER!

Time of Your Life

Thank You Beautiful Lady For Enriching Mine

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

Uh…
Just to kick this off,

Please watch to this bit to get y’all in the mood:


Manosphere Environment
Manosphere Environment6.34K subscribers

Off To The Rodeo!

 ********

Sahara Hare Right There! (Below)

 

Here is a ‘novel’ approach (Well not really for me)

However maybe for Y’all:

This is a ‘work-in-progress’. Most writers polish, polish, polish, then anguish, anguish, anguish, and then… finally… publish. I subscribe to a slightly different philosophy tenet philosophy: “Just throw it out there and fix it later.” Probably not wise, but what the hell?

Anyway. Yup. This is a ‘work in progress’ (process?) and yes, I do have (buried somewhere in the dank, dark, dank, deep, nether depths of my addled mind) a purpose for this post. And yes, I hope to coax  lure hoist it up to the surface and board  beach land it, still flopping about, right here on this page.

Might be entertaining (or not) to watch the process. And in this vain vein, I am going to keep all the edits here, just as an experiment. A way to look into the my writing/editing process. (“Now damnit, I do hope I can come up with a valid subject to go along with this ‘wonderful’ prose.”)

To (obviously) be continued…Please don’t change touch that dial!

(And, as usual: nothing works if you don’t click the video/sound bite below)

***

Yes.

Moody Blues?

Dare I say?

Genius?

Naw!

“Just What You Want to Be, You’ll Be In The End.”

*****

Boz Scaggs

Just kids havin’ fun

(We are entitled to fun, eh?)

“Who put those idea’s  ideas in your head?”

And…

“The Pursuit of Happiness”

Cred for Vid Share:Redbaron863

********

(I read that somewhere)

“Come on back down to Earth Son!”

“Boz, I Am Really Tryin'”

P.S. Yes my mind is a terrible thing. And if you have not clicked all the audio, you will lose Karma. Just sayin’…

Here was my mantra during those six months I spent languishing away in Amman Jordan between Iraq gigs:

Vid Street Cred: Jewfro69man

AND FUCK YOU WORDPRESS!

YOU Arbitrary-illy

PUT MY PROSE WHEREVER THE FUCK YOU FIND IT

‘CONENVIENT’

FUCK Am I PAYING You For??

To Fuck Me?

Without Even a Kiss First?

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

Bonus:

Serverely Out of Context

And Unrelated

But This is

How

I Roll

Hahahahahaha!

*******

Camila Cabello:

Hey
Havana, ooh na-na (ayy)
Half of my heart is in Havana, ooh na-na (ayy, ayy)

He took me back to East Atlanta, na-na-na, ah
Oh, but my heart is in Havana (ayy)
There’s somethin’ ’bout his manners (uh-huh)
Havana, ooh-na-na (uh)

Long Version:

Here is Another One That Never Gets No Play on ‘The Radio.’ Why Not Y’all? “Escape From Memphis–Chapter One”

MUST MUST MUST MUST!

This Song is the ENTIRE Point of the POST!

(And Sorry if I Buried The Lead)

“The Lamp is Broken on the Mantle”

Ed. Note to All You Nattering Nabobs of Nay-Sayers down there in the ‘Commentary Section’:
I say this:
‘This is “My Side” of the Story!’
Read Between the Lines if You Must.

(Or feel compelled.)

*****

Lance, No Longer Down an’ Out In

Memphis, Tennessee:

Yeah Lyle, I been to Memphis too.

Street Vid Cred: kndfbl

Joni talking about Memphis

Joni on Beale Street

******

“Walkin’ in Memphis”

Credit: Marc Cohn

*****

And SCREW YOU WORDPRESS For Not Allowing Me to Delete this below BROKEN Up-Load!!!

Stuck on STUPID.

******

She just sat there on the front porch, smoking Camel Blues, sipping diet Dr. Pepper, and watching as I scurried back and forth, worker ant-like, schlepping boxes and boxes and boxes and sundry other shit to my Ford.
Never said a word.
Never shed a tear.
I was leaving her!
What the fuck?
No tears?
No desperation?
No tears?
No tears?
No tears?
No nada?
English!
English!
English!
(You live with Meskins, expect beans on the menu, ever’ once in a while.)
English!

Stiff upper lip and all that jazz…
After I had packed the Ford to the point of tightness unimagined (you could have poured a bottle of Jim Beam into it and not one drop would escape), I walked to the front porch and announced,

“Well, I guess that’s it then.”
“You’re leaving now?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan,” I said.
She stood up, looked me in the eye. I threw my arms around her and hugged her deep.
Now we were both crying.
I managed to blurt out something profound…

“I’m so sorry Helen.”
“Take good care of you,” she said, blinking back the tears.
I slow-walked to the Ford, looking back through MY tears only once. Got in, cranked her up and drove away.
The part where the cowboy rides away…
Took me a block an’ a half to stop crying.
Then I was so over it.

And her.

Four blocks later I realized I could not see out of my side-view rear-view mirror. My dismantled computer chair in the passenger seat was blocking my vision. This would never do. I pulled into a vacant parking lot and jettisoned said computer chair.
Just left it there in the dust.

With my life.
Merry Early Fucking Christmas to someone.
Some homeless one in Memphis.
And drove on, westward.

Nine minutes later at sixty-five miles per hour, I was crossing the Big Muddy and entering Arkansas.

I had achieved escape velocity.
I turned on the radio.
Loud and proud.
CDB was screaming something about Trudy and telephones.
And calling her.

And jail.
I cranked it up and sang along.
Very happy and oh so fucking proud of me.
My new life had just begun.
Just another tequila sunrise.
As I drove west with the sun over my shoulder.
So many thoughts were flying around in my head, gnat like… buzzing.

I was almost giddy.
I was staring down six hours of road trip.

No big deal, but it had been almost ten years since I had taken to the road or air or sea, and I was just a mite apprehensive.
“You can do this Lance,” I whispered to me over the radio, now playing Van Morrison.
“Hear That Robin Sing.’
Hours and hours and hours into Arkansas (when did Arkansas get so fucking BIG?)

I found a trucker’s rest stop and so I stopped.
And rested.
And pee’d.
Had to.
Walked about
Had to.
Stretched my legs.
Had to.

“Where is Texas?” Halfway through Arkansas…. And halfway from what I had called ‘home’ for ten years.
“What am I doing?”
“Going West, Young Man, Goin’ West.”
“Oh yeah, I almost had forgotten.”

By and by I hit the “border”
(On the border)

Wanted to stop and take a selfie in front of the sign what read, “Welcome To Texas, Drive Friendly.” But it was Interstate and not safe to do so, so I just kept on driving.
And singing at me!

“Texas! Oh Texas!”
“You are finally home, Cowboy!”
Now what?
Keep driving, I suppose.
I had pre-arranged a ‘garage’ to store my shit.

A ‘rent-a-space’ shed in Commerce.
Got a phone call from the proprietor….

“Lance, you still coming?”

“Yeah, fast as I can, but I will not arrive in time for your departure. Can you HBO? Help a brother out? I will arrive Commerce about 1800 hours…. Leave the key in the lock box or something; I want to off-load my shit before I go to the hotel.”
“Sure, got a CC number for me?”
“Yeah, no worries.”
That sorted, I drove on.
Presently I arrived Sulphur Springs.
And promptly got lost.
Could not find the road to Commerce.

Well, shit!

It had been some years and beers and tears since I had had to make this trek.

Finally found the proper road and guess what?
It was ‘under construction’ as they do.
Took me some few little minutes to navigate through that, but…. Finally… on the road again.

Commerce in my sights now.
Sped into town, saw Whitley Hall, High Rise and shouted out loud: HOME!

“Thank fucking God!’
(And this was a push for me, for as you know, I am an atheist)
Found the ‘rent-a-shed’ and off-loaded my shit.
Went to the Adult Beverage Store.
Then found the Magnuson, formally known as “The Holiday Inn Express,” checked in, and got very, very, very drunk.

Chapter Two Coming…
Whew!
Chapter One is Done!
Writing is hard!
As is my wont, I drop in music.
Music defines me, and yes, my life has a soundtrack.
I suppose this don’t make me nothing special.
Just yet one more schmuck.
Trying to get by.
And Waiting for Godot
(Vain reference from my college / university daze.)

Beautiful Loser
Read it on the wall.
Blue moon with heartache.
Nick of time
“Scared you’ll run outta time.”
Love has no pride
This old cowboy—MTB

So many emotions were colliding around in my head, not unlike that stupid arcade game: asteroids….

Escape From Memphis–Chapter Two

Part threee may be discovered here:

New Life.  Video Credit: Cool Coyote  https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC9mNquw1Fc7beFfQ8OpnjRQ

Blinking back the tears.

I Love You! Patty Loveless!

My love is never less

In Keeping With My ‘Texans I Adore, Respect & Admire Theme’ Of Late: Black Mollies!

Molly Ivins is a Fukken Drop Dead Beautiful, Brilliant Woman.

And Hear Ye Hear Ye!

Hear Me!

I Am a Right-Wing Republican Sayin’

This.

Unabashedly Admitting This!

The 'Unsinkable 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

I Would Like to Give LBJ… Please Just Humor Me On This One Kids!

A pass

And, in fact: I do.

He was a Great Texan.

He, even according to Molly Ivins, was a great president.

But…

He was sleazy.

Sleazy, like the rest of us.

This is what makes a leader for America.

You be the judge, and comment.

(Believe it or not, these taped conversations are real)

“Just put yer arm around me, We’ll take a walk”

We love Lyndon.

(Well, the thinking among us do)

Thanks if you approach this with some open mind.

And if not, Thanks Even More.

(But tell us why)

(Is this a mini rant?)

Maybe.

Cheers Y’all

I know Carole is Gay… Ask me how Many Fuks I Give. Septembers Are Always Very Hard On Me. Because They Remind Me… Brings Back Insanity… They Break Me! I’d Just as Soon as to fore-get. But, I cannot! I just Cannot!

Maddy?

Why Did You Die On Me???!!!

Yu Fukin’ Cunt!

(OF Course, I NEVER Call’d You”Maddy”)

That would’ve just pissed You off!,

So I always just call’d You ‘

Madelyn’…

*****

Re-Whines Me Of…

Of A Sad Anniversary I’d Just As Soon As Try To Forget. But I Can’t. Won’t. For I Made A Promise You See. One Promise I Hold Near & Dear And Shall Always Keep. Until That Day I Die Too.

“Cowards Die Many Times Before Their Deaths;

The Valiant Never Taste of Death but Once.”

–W. Shakespeare

In 1971 when my step-sister Madelyn and I were fourteen and thirteen respectively, my parents would often go out of town on the weekends. My father and stepmother seemed to always have some magic convention or gathering to attend in Dallas, Houston, Kansas City, or any number of other venues.

So She and I ‘fended!’

Oh Good Gawd!

Oh! How we Fended!

And We Broke  a lot  of  fending fences along-the-way,

Left them in the dust, to rust.

****

My father knew all the local high school kids from his directing of the senior plays every year. Two of the former graduatesGood Gawd! Hded’ Oh , Ronnie and Doug, then about twenty years old, remained very good friends of my father and particularly Ronnie, (who was Peanut’s Uncle). My father decided that Madelyn and I needed a ‘baby-sitter’ while he and Gloria were off on their long weekends, so they paid Doug and Ronnie to look after us.

Now mind you, Madelyn and I were both pretty certain we were over-mature for our age and could easily fend for ourselves, but we loved having two “big brothers” to help us throw the greatest parties in the history of Honey Grove while under their tutelage.

We used Marcom Manor as our venue of course and were always in a rush to get the house back into some semblance of order before the folks returned, usually on a Sunday, but occasionally on a Monday or Tuesday.

During Labor Day Weekend of 1971 my parents were off to a big convention in Houston and we had a great party planned for Sunday the Fifth of September.

We were to have ‘The Mother of All Parties’ out at Lake Coffeemill, north of Honey Grove. (The party was going to serve double duty for me, as my fourteenth birthday was just five days away.)  Right up until the night before, I had no date lined up for this all-day Blow-Out, and I was in a panic.

Continue reading

Yeah, I am Lazy. I Keep Re-Postin’ Old Shit. Git Over It! “California on my Mind MIND? MiNd? No, I Don’t Mind! I No Longer Have The TIME! (NOR The Damn Dime Neither)”

So Let’s Just Call The Whole Thing Off!

You’ll Have to Scroll Down For Ginger;

I Got Distracted.

Yes; It Happens From time-To-Time

I No Longer Have One Dime.

Nor a Brain

Yet, Poverty & Ignorance is Bliss–

I am Blessed to Have Both

“Hey Brother, can you spare a dime?

I seem to have misplaced mine”

But Texas Always in my Heart?

Huh?

And OnCE A’GIN” fUK u word-de-Pressed! i CANnOT DeDIite This! Why Not? Why The Fuk NOT? Fuk U Word-Disstressed!

I have spilled’d way too

Much Virtual Ink on California Yeah!

I spent Above My ‘Income’

No Breakin’ News Nor Revelation

To Be Discovered There!

Yeah! I once spent a Night in The Hotel Del…Cost me a Month’s Navy Pay… Well worth it, even tho I DID NOT Get Laid… Story of my Life! Still Worth it.

“Welcome to Hotel Hell”

Back When, Way Back When!

When I was in SEAL Train’in’

So What????

The Hotel Del Did NOT

Impress Me!

Mother-fu*k California!

Jes Kidd’n

I LoVe Her!

Almost HALF as Much as I Love TEXAS!

But Not Quite.

Aerosmith – Crazy 

GTT

More Texas

Less California

Loved it. Hated it. Few decades ago I could truthfully say, “Hey! I’ve spent half my life in California.” (See This Or This)

Now I can say, “Hey! I’ve spent most of my life in Dangerous Desolate Places.” (Middle East &  East Texas) That worm did turn some. (Go Here or There)

I really don’t care at this point

****

As a Native Texan, I am supposed to always hate California and yes, Yes to all you Texans out there: I know this. I get it. Put the rope down.

Yet I more love than hate California.

In California I learned to appreciate music, art, science, literature, hippies, beaches and blondes. My first kiss was not in California, but I didn’t miss that milestone by much–In California.

In Texas I learned to appreciate drankin’ whiskey and beer , smokin’ dope, playin’ football, chasin’ cheerleaders, and Raisin’ Hell.

Arriving home to Texas late 1968 folks made fun of my ‘California Accent’ if there even is such a thing. (There were no Valley Girls in the Sixties as far as I know). My ‘accent’ was ‘just the way normal people talked’ as far as I was concerned. Texans sounded funny to me (Blasphemy!)

My Attitude Adjustment didn’t take long to take.

In California I was a Little League Baseball Star. In Texas no one gave two shits about baseball. I had to learn football. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, but I had all those baseball skills which were not worth a cup of spit in Texas.

I love Texas and don’t get me wrong. But once in a while, when I see a photo or a news bit showing San Francisco, or San Diego, or a beach, or a blonde… I hear this guy singing:

Sometimes I even hear this blonde singing:

And I tear up. (Just a little bit) but then I throw on some Bob Wills and Remember Who I am.

Bob Wills

And thus remembering, I go out and buy a case of Lone Star Long Necks and listen to this guy:

And I Thank The Spirit of Sam Houston I Am A Texan.