In 1976

(Adult content below)

Where I End And You Begin by Radiohead plays.

Lacey is sitting on Lem’s lap in 1976 at age 17. And she knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s not a ‘teenager’ nor a child. It’s 1976 and she knows exactly what she’s doing. Some 17 years would not. But…the age of consent in Italy is 16 for a reason.

THE AGE OF CONSENT IN ILLITERATE AMERICA IS 18 FOR A SAD REASON.

But in Italy where they still understand nuance and complication…it’s 16. And no…it’s not 16 to get pedophilic monsters “off the hook.” It’s 16 because…there used to be some 16 year old young women who were actually genuinely able to get married to a grown man. There still could be and might still be in the future. But…it’s becoming or was becoming less and less common.

In Lem’s generation the young men and women sometimes married at 15 or 16 in certain white rural communities of the American south.

Would Lem have preferred she be older? Yes. But…she is very beautiful and…wise and mature and intelligent…and well-bred. And…she sat on his lap fully aware of what she was doing.

In 1976.

And no her illegitimate maternal side isn’t the result of pedophilia, you peasant bitches. Are you peasant bitches arguing that to get your shabby ass “off of the hook?” How sad. …Genuinely.

So what happens?

Lem…closes his eyes and starts to doze off. Lacey is hurt. So she kisses him softly on his cheek and rests her head on his shoulder. And then he smiles to himself.

“I’ve been staring at your ass all night.” he says to her very quietly.

“Why do you use drugs? It’s so sad.” she asks him with genuine sadness. She relaxes.

He scrunches his face.

“I’m all messed-up.” he says.

“Let’s go to bed.” she says, placidly.

“Are you my wife?” he asks, indignantly.

“Oh shut-up! Let’s go get some sleep.” says Lacey.

“I’m going to make love to you.” he confesses, worried.

“What do I care, if you marry me? I’m madly in love with you.” says Lacey.

“Huh. We’re weird.” says Lem.

“I’m not. Do you love me?” she asks.

He thinks. “Yes.” he says.

“Then why are we all evil about it?” asks Lacey. “Let’s just go to bed.”

“Because these damned kids are here making noise.” says Lem.

“How about we go get a hotel room?” suggests Lacey.

“And let them have the house??” he says infuriated.

“You gave it to them.” says Lacey calmly.

“Fine. Fine. But I didn’t necessarily mean to.” he says.

“That’s obnoxious. Lem…I’m in love with you. And I want to make love too. And get some sleep…and then sort through all this madness later.” says Lacey.

“I’m an awfully shoddy man.” says Lem crying, apologetically.

“Oh darling, don’t worry. Let’s just sneak out…order room service…and get some decent sleep.” says Lacey.

He laughs. Stands-up.

“No. I’m not going to lose you. We need to leave.” says Lacey.

“Alright. I’ll grab my wallet.” says Lem.

“Let’s go.” says Lacey taking her handbag.

And so the two of them take his wallet and walk out the door. He also takes his car keys.

And they leave.

It’s Manhattan in 1976.

They walk out to his car. He hands her the keys.

“I’ll tell you where to go.” he says.

They have a lovely weekend at a bed and breakfast. In New Hampshire. In 1976 people were sophisticated enough to grasp the reality of what was going on. She was hot, young wife. He was a tall, handsome, wealthy older husband. And…they seemed…happy and actually very normal.

They were married the next day. And actually…she was his wife legally and in every other way until his death. It was…acceptable.

And…if Lacey was 17 in 1976…she’d be 64 years old. Right now she’d be 64 years old. Lacey makes a lot more sense as a 64 year old. But she’s not 64. She’s 40.

Jackie Kennedy rolls her eyes in empathetic exasperation for Lacey.

The Swan by Camille Saint-Saëns plays.

“Would I still exist in Heaven if you’d not conceived me with Margy in your 80’s?” asks Lacey of her father.

“It’s okay dad. Really!” bites Lem, upset but trying to be nice.

Louis smiles. “Answer her question carefully.” Lou Hill suggests. “These people struggle to comprehend it all?”

“What if…the problem isn’t in her father’s heart? What if the problem is in her birth mother’s…everything? Aside from what she gave Lacey that’s been usable?” says Reta Banks.

“Surrogacy issues.” says a gay man who empathetically rolls his eyes.

Pavane Pour Une Infant Défunte by Maurice Ravel is played on cello by JFK Jr. to honor his brother Patrick.

“Who told him to do that?” asks Lacey of Jackie in fear.

Jackie rushes over to grab JFK Jr. before he continues to make a fool of himself.

He likely meant well? Poor thing? He looks confused as he’s escorted away. Patrick and him wrestle and throw each other off cliffs in Ireland. Literally.

“I told you not to do that.” JFK Jr. yells at his brother.

“You fool!” says Patrick.

And they take turns shoving each other down the side of the cliff.

“The kids in our Fitzgerald-Kennedy clan always get along!” jokes Joe Kennedy Sr. awkwardly.

“Grandkids too!” says Lacey.

Rose Fitzgerald Kennedy rolls her eyes in tired exasperation. It’s a happy but tired moment in Purgatory for Rose.

Yes. It was the Cliffs of Moher.

“What the heck?!” says Ethel Kennedy. “There’s an afterlife?!”

“Umm…yeah!” Bobby Kennedy Sr. yells at her.

“Then why am I alive?!?” she yells at Bobby Kennedy Sr..

“You wanted to be alive.” says Bobby Kennedy Sr..

Pavane Pour Infant Défunte plays.

“What’s the point of a purge when Lacey and Lem can’t go to the hospital for the birth of their children?” asks the Pope.

Awkward silence.

“They’re going for marriage as defined by Christ. As it is in Heaven.” says the Pope. “That’s sex, possibly. But it’s not in a fallen world. The legalization of marriage isn’t a concern in Heaven…where we are redeemed fully. So…if Christ permits marriage on Earth…it’s sad they are so separated if their union is meant to be permanent for eternity.”

“Oh. This is about the Civil War?” asks NBC.

“No! It’s about love.” says the Pope.

“What’s the point of a purge if Lacey and Lem can’t go to New Hampshire?” asks the Pope. “Hmm…maybe because…Bobby and Joe I have violent, psychotic, psychopathic tendencies.”

Awkward silence.

“Why are you all tempting Lem to use death to rescue his family?” asks the Pope.

Awkward silence.

“Because if he didn’t fuck my hot ass…he was an imposter-human.” says Bobby Kennedy Jr..

“Yeah! Gee! Mine too!” says Joe Kennedy I. And no, not Joe Kennedy Sr.. Because apparently in the Kennedy family Joe Sr. is older than Joe Kennedy the first.

Joe Kennedy Jr. laughs. “Law school joke. Right Bobby?” He laughs.

“Who’s better? Who’s best?” asks Lacey.

Bobby Kennedy Sr. laughs, despite himself. “Yeah. Okay.” he says.

“Why did you name him that?!?” asks Lacey.

“I agree!” says Joe Kennedy Jr. in disgust.

Awkward silence.

“Lem! Teach your son how to fight!” yells Joe at Lem, disgusted.

“Yeah. I should.” says Lem.

Joe Kennedy Jr. cries. “Don’t make me regret loving Pat Wilson so damn much.” he says, suddenly feeling confused and content. Maybe she was his ultimate other half. We’ll see.

“Pat do you get confused about Lacey marrying Lem at 17 when he was 63?” asks NBC with Lester Holt.

“No!! Not at all.” says Pat Wilson. “I don’t think you understand…the European people.”

“Me?” asks Lester Holt.

“Maybe. I meant NBC. And American journalists in general.” says Pat Wilson.

“Right. Because you could have been a First Lady?” says Lester Holt.

“Yes! I could have been.” says Pat Wilson.

“An Australian First Lady.” says Australia, rolling its eyes.

“It’s legal.” says Lacey.

Pat Wilson laughs. “It’s legal, permissible, and what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that in 2023 we can’t cognitively understand how a 63 man could fall healthily in love with a 17 year old woman.” says NBC.

“Who was pretending to be gay?” asks Pat Wilson.

“Yes.” says NBC.

“It’s too complicated for your bourgeois peasant brains to fathom? Or you’re too evil?” asks Pat Wilson. “Be far more careful. They’re perfectly fine. You truly don’t understand or choose not to.”

“Lacey and Lem aren’t evil or insane?” asks NBC.

“You’re not funny. You’re evil.” says Pat. “I don’t understand why you must pervert the truth so incessantly.”

“Is it a class issue?” asks NBC.

“Of course it is!!” yells Pat Wilson. “And I’m not happy about it. But…that’s America.”

“She’s able to legally marry me and she knows what she’s doing.” says Lem. “Why must you be so vain?”

“And I’d have married them on the spot.” says a judge in 1976. In West Virginia. “The way she holds his hand. She’s in love.”

Awkward silence.

“But he’s so old!” says a Boomer woman.

“Were you alive in the 1970’s?” asks Lacey, repulsed.

“Yes.” says the Boomer woman. She thinks. “Eww!” she says to Lacey like a peer.

“He’s not eww to me.” says Lacey.

The Boomer woman laughs awkwardly.

“What?” asks Lacey, confused.

The Boomer woman points to her crotch luridly.

“So what? What’s wrong with an orgasm?” says Lacey.

“How the Hell do you know about orgasms?” asks the Boomer woman.

“Oh you don’t?” says Lacey. “You pretentious, bourgeois, catty, evil, slutty, stupid bitch?!”

“My father molested me.” says the Boomer woman.

“So you’re assuming I was molested too? My father was older when I was conceived but…he didn’t molest my mom. You’re conflating things. And say, what’s your problem anyway? You want Lem now that you’re using your eyes to look at him?” says Lacey.

“I’m not going to be interested.” says Lem.

“In me or her?” the Boomer asks flashing him suddenly out of nowhere.

“Obviously in you.” says Lem. “It’s obvious I’m in love with Lacey and you and the peasant bourgeois can’t handle it because it hurts your egos.”

“How do you speak American English? They try to trick you with every fucking syllable.” says Lacey to Lem. “Sorry God for swearing.”

“Okay! So…you’re in love with a saggy old man?” says the Boomer woman to Lacey.

“He’s not that saggy.” says Lacey. “And he’s so handsome.”

“Yeah. Okay. So there aren’t lots of guys our age who look like him.” says the Boomer.

“Her dad is old!” yells Bobby Kennedy Jr..

“He was 65 when he conceived her!” says a Boomer guy laughing with the Boomer woman.

“That’s not nice.” says the Boomer in two-faced fashion. “It’s their people?”

“Yeah! They’re old, rich, fat, pasty white fucks.” says Bobby Kennedy Jr. like a 1976 cool-kid.

“Can you leave now?” asks Lacey. “I’d like to make love with my husband if you kids wouldn’t mind following the law.”

And at that Lacey is grabbed by Lem and he drives off or the evil-Boomer-kids are all shot.

“Okay. But that’s weird. In 1976. She’s only 17. Not 60!” says Bobby Kennedy Jr. like he’s really coming up with something new and important.

He’s not.

Because she could have also been born in 1911. Or 1917. Or 1919! Or 1918!!!

“But then how?!?” asks the Boomers. Because he’s really just bothered by Lem but being inter in men ever in any real way and specifically the men in his family. And he’s trying to find some way to complicate things so he can feel like he has a chance wirh

“Okay. So this is another one of Bobby Kennedy Jr.‘s masturbating ceremonies gone wrong?” laughs John Belter. He laughs at Bobby. “Bobby…not everyone is going to want to fuck you.” explains John Belter making himself a cup of tea. He looks very well composed as always. “I’m sure you have lots of great ideas. Truly. I too hate vaccines.” he says like the aristocratic old money man that he is. “They are suspicious.” he says before drinking his tea. “But…they…likely feel sexual feelings for each other that have absolutely nothing to do with you. I think you should understand that, and it’s actually very scary for the state of the US that you don’t.”

“But you don’t want to know what I deal with! You don’t want to know!” yells Bobby Kennedy Jr. at John Belter, in tears.

John Belter pauses and thinks. Drinks his tea. “Bobby! What was so awful? Having to hear Lem and Lacey making loud sex noises in his bedroom?” asks John.

Bobby Kennedy rolls his eyes as he plays with a fire ball with his tongue. He shoves it in his cheek and thinks.

“You’re a real prick!” he finally yells at John Belter.

“Just answer the damn question, Bobby.” says John Belter.

“No. They’re quiet. I just can’t stand the thought of it. It ruins my good mood.” says Bobby Kennedy Jr..

“The thought of him making love to his wife?” asks John Belter.

“Well yeah! I mean geez. First your uncle tries to molest and control a guy. Run his whole existence using Satan. …And then…come to find out he was straight the whole time. …I mean…geez! And man…I’m a pervert and I wanted a chance to bang him. Our family does that incestuously. Our victims aren’t supposed to know.” says Bobby Kennedy Jr. sincerely to John Belter. “I mean our Kennedy family.”

“Yes. I’m a Belter. Not a Kennedy.” says John Belter.

“Yeah! You all dabble in politics a bit don’t you? You snobs.” says Bobby Kennedy Jr..

“We are snobs.” says John Belter suddenly eating a German pastry made to perfection with his tea. “I grew-up on a beautiful farm in Eastern North Dakota. In a gorgeous house.”

“In the 1940’s, 50’s and 60’s?” asks Bobby Kennedy Jr..

“Right!” says John Belter finishing his pastry.

Awkward silence.

“Say! Maybe we can get along in Heaven. As brothers in Christ. But for now I remain a Calvinist.” says John suggestively.

Piano Concerto No. 5 In E Flat Major by Beethoven plays.

“You silly idiot!” yells Lord Snotgrass at Lacey, thinking she’s a gold-digger for reasons of his ego.

Lacey looks at him confused.

“John Belter isn’t really a Calvinist. That’s a joke for scholars like me.” says Lord Snotgrass.

“You’re a millionaire! Why lie about it?” says Jim Craft to Lord Snotgrass.

Anyway.

“Listen. Don’t keep rejecting Christ.” says John Belter to Bobby Kennedy Jr..