Alright, I'm getting into some sketchy memory here- but knowing what I know, there is only one or two ways this could have worked out-
See, when my parents split because my dad was whacked out after the war, apparently on several types of drugs and was catting around- there must have been some sort of agreement that he could still see us (my brother and I). I say this because, I know that when my mom left we went to stay with my Aunt Marie and we were completely on the down-low about it.
We also stayed with Aunt Loraine (Lo-lo) as well as my Grandma-
Now, my Grandma we stayed with last because we eventually moved into a little trailer house right next to my Grandma's place that Mr. Fred owned- and that is probably where I remember stuff (or choose to remember stuff) a bit more clearly- I was six then.
Anyway- We were in hiding because my mom was very scared of my dad and didn't want to see him- as a five year old I did understand this a little- as my mom confided in me a lot and I had seen some of the things he could do.
Well, I say that there must have been an agreement because I remember one day my dad spent time with my brother and I-
I don't remember how we hooked up nor do I remember what we did- I DO remember my dad asking me the directions for where we stayed so he wouldn't be dropping us off at the agreed meeting place but rather at our new locale.
I had the feeling that I shouldn't be helping him find out where we were but this WAS my dad and he did have a great deal of influence over me. I was scared of him too.
He figured out the way back to my Aunt Marie's place which was a small trailer like place if I'm not mistaken.
There was trouble as my dad waited no time before smashing the glass that was in the door trying to get in and my mom frantically locked him out.
There were words, screaming- Marie did some threatening. It was a scene that I can't remember how it ended. Alls I know is that was the last time I saw my dad in a nice way- and I can't even remember what we did because of the way it ended.
I had to promise my mom I would never EVER lead him back to the house should we see him again but like I said, I didn't see him really after that and if I had- there was NO WAY he was going to be lead to my mom again.
That was when the real hiding out began. We stayed at either of my Aunts houses for a bit and at Grandma's 'til we finally settled in that little trailer joint next door to Mr. Fred.
During that time I have a lot of great memories of things I learned from my Aunts.
One thing my Mom, her sisters and Grandma loved to do is play cards. Spades was the game and I loved it. Hell, I loved games and they always let me play.
I used to hang on to the Ace of Spades 'til the end so often that if it didn't pop up after a while they knew I had it. I learned to smack the cards down so that they would spin.
We also played dominoes. My Grandma would drink a beer sometimes with her girls- a long way away from what they used to be like under my puritanical grandfather- or so I'm told.
Sometimes we would hang with Aunt Jewel who was the mother of my favorite cousins on my mom's side, Marvin and Micheal (we called him Newey- I don't know why) but they weren't around much in the beginning.
Another thing we would all do is DANCE. Aunt Lo-lo was the best and spent significant amounts of time showing me how to do the latest moves (I looked like Re-Run) and she delighted in how fast I caught on. Lo-lo and I had a lot of fun dancing together and I credit her for my love of dancing.
It was this love that would lead to so many great moments later on in life.
2.15.2009
Moment 873: Valentine's Dance
I was walking my oldest home from school when he began to ask me the normal barrage of questions he usually pelts me with.
"Dad? Can I buy Halo for your Xbox"
I just looked at him and he knew the answer.
"I'm hungry- can we get some chips."
"Nah," I said annoyed because he knows the answer I'm gonna give him "...we're going to be home soon and you're going to be at the table- not hungry anymore and when your mom asks you why you're not eating what are you gonna say? Dad bought me some chips after school!- just wait 'til we get home."
We walked a bit further and then he asked- "Dad? Do you remember your first school dance?"
I hesitated- partly because- Yo! How old do you think I am, kid!- but mostly because the memories of school dances poured over me like cool water on a summer day, so I was taking them all in and wading in them.
"Dad?"
"My first dance was when I was in the 4th or 5th grade"- I began, "There was a contest- it was a lot of fun."
"Did you have a dance when you were in the 6th grade?"
"Yeah...that was my first slow-dance."
"I want to ask a girl in my class to our Valentine's Dance."
"Oh!"
This was different. My boy is growing.
Alright, I can see we're about to have a discussion.
We stopped at the hotdog vendor just before getting on the train and I bought two dogs. "You better eat your dinner!"
"I will!" he replied happily.
"And I mean all of it."
First thing I advised him to do was NOT to ask this little girl to the dance. "You don't want this to be a "date"- I warned him. Better to just go to the dance and make sure you make time and talk to her.
He was afraid and nervous about talking to her- I remember how that felt and now, looking back, it feels silly. It IS silly.
I told him to ask her questions and listen to the answers- there's nothing easier than asking people questions and then listening.
He felt it was too hard though. Yeah, you read it right- Capt. Question was going to have a hard time asking this girl anything.
"You'll be alright. Just don't ask about Pokemon, videogames or anything like that- be general. Ask her what she likes to do."
"Idunno, dad."
"One thing that we could do is retwist your hair. And we got a week to get it done. So you can count on that. Also- ask your mom about asking this girl as your mom will know much more about being a preteen girl than I do."
We got home. He ate his dinner with no problem and later he asked his mom about girls and she agreed with me about asking her to the dance. I knew though that my oldest wouldn't be satisfied with that. We would have to be vigilant.
Valentine's Day fell on a Saturday leaving the Valentine's Day Dance to fall on the day before- Friday the 13th.
My son was worried about this but I told him not to- the day will be what you make of it.
I finally got to twist his hair on Tuesday night- the next day he had an ice-skating party at the school- Yeah, I know- when the fuck do they have SCHOOL in the school!?- I certainly don't remember having this much non-school happening in my school days but then maybe I just choose not to remember...I doubt it though.
He told me that the girl he was interested in inquired about his hair and spoke to him a little bit.
"This is good." I said. Did you talk more?
"No."
"Well, talk some more during the dance-"
When that Friday came up we got ready for the day as we usually do. When he got out of the shower, I sprayed my oldest with a couple of hits of my cologne for good measure.
Gaby and I sent him off to school with best wishes- as I didn't have to work that day and would be walking our youngest to school. My son insisted that we pick him up at 4:30 even though the dance would go until 5pm.
After letting him go and dropping off the little guy, which I enjoyed a nice walk and talk with him as well- I did a load of laundry, hit the gym and then Gaby and I went to a nice little lunch at Bar Toto. Shrimp Salad, Panini Burger, soup, fries and a bottle of wine- THAT'S lunch, baby.
We finished in time for me to scoop up my man from elementary.
Our oldest called us at about 3:40 and said he was having a great time and not to come until 5- A secret admirer gave him a rose with a teddy bear on it earlier in the day so he was floating. I worried because earlier in the year he got a note from a secret admirer and it turned out to be a joke by some other kids.
Yeah. Kids are fucked up at that age.
When I picked him up he was ecstatic about the time he spent dancing with his school mates. Then he stopped and quietly told me that he had failed- He didn't really speak to the girl he was interested in- she was doing a lot of the music.
I told him this was not failure- if he had asked her to the dance she probably would have said no because she was doing the music. Also, she has seen him out and about so she now knows you're not a stay at home and you like to have a good time. All you have to do is take some time out to talk to her. Which, eventually- you will do.
He was very happy though because he had been a finalist in the dance competition- I grinned at this and waded once more into my own school dance memories.
We still don't know who the secret admirer is.
"Dad? Can I buy Halo for your Xbox"
I just looked at him and he knew the answer.
"I'm hungry- can we get some chips."
"Nah," I said annoyed because he knows the answer I'm gonna give him "...we're going to be home soon and you're going to be at the table- not hungry anymore and when your mom asks you why you're not eating what are you gonna say? Dad bought me some chips after school!- just wait 'til we get home."
We walked a bit further and then he asked- "Dad? Do you remember your first school dance?"
I hesitated- partly because- Yo! How old do you think I am, kid!- but mostly because the memories of school dances poured over me like cool water on a summer day, so I was taking them all in and wading in them.
"Dad?"
"My first dance was when I was in the 4th or 5th grade"- I began, "There was a contest- it was a lot of fun."
"Did you have a dance when you were in the 6th grade?"
"Yeah...that was my first slow-dance."
"I want to ask a girl in my class to our Valentine's Dance."
"Oh!"
This was different. My boy is growing.
Alright, I can see we're about to have a discussion.
We stopped at the hotdog vendor just before getting on the train and I bought two dogs. "You better eat your dinner!"
"I will!" he replied happily.
"And I mean all of it."
First thing I advised him to do was NOT to ask this little girl to the dance. "You don't want this to be a "date"- I warned him. Better to just go to the dance and make sure you make time and talk to her.
He was afraid and nervous about talking to her- I remember how that felt and now, looking back, it feels silly. It IS silly.
I told him to ask her questions and listen to the answers- there's nothing easier than asking people questions and then listening.
He felt it was too hard though. Yeah, you read it right- Capt. Question was going to have a hard time asking this girl anything.
"You'll be alright. Just don't ask about Pokemon, videogames or anything like that- be general. Ask her what she likes to do."
"Idunno, dad."
"One thing that we could do is retwist your hair. And we got a week to get it done. So you can count on that. Also- ask your mom about asking this girl as your mom will know much more about being a preteen girl than I do."
We got home. He ate his dinner with no problem and later he asked his mom about girls and she agreed with me about asking her to the dance. I knew though that my oldest wouldn't be satisfied with that. We would have to be vigilant.
Valentine's Day fell on a Saturday leaving the Valentine's Day Dance to fall on the day before- Friday the 13th.
My son was worried about this but I told him not to- the day will be what you make of it.
I finally got to twist his hair on Tuesday night- the next day he had an ice-skating party at the school- Yeah, I know- when the fuck do they have SCHOOL in the school!?- I certainly don't remember having this much non-school happening in my school days but then maybe I just choose not to remember...I doubt it though.
He told me that the girl he was interested in inquired about his hair and spoke to him a little bit.
"This is good." I said. Did you talk more?
"No."
"Well, talk some more during the dance-"
When that Friday came up we got ready for the day as we usually do. When he got out of the shower, I sprayed my oldest with a couple of hits of my cologne for good measure.
Gaby and I sent him off to school with best wishes- as I didn't have to work that day and would be walking our youngest to school. My son insisted that we pick him up at 4:30 even though the dance would go until 5pm.
After letting him go and dropping off the little guy, which I enjoyed a nice walk and talk with him as well- I did a load of laundry, hit the gym and then Gaby and I went to a nice little lunch at Bar Toto. Shrimp Salad, Panini Burger, soup, fries and a bottle of wine- THAT'S lunch, baby.
We finished in time for me to scoop up my man from elementary.
Our oldest called us at about 3:40 and said he was having a great time and not to come until 5- A secret admirer gave him a rose with a teddy bear on it earlier in the day so he was floating. I worried because earlier in the year he got a note from a secret admirer and it turned out to be a joke by some other kids.
Yeah. Kids are fucked up at that age.
When I picked him up he was ecstatic about the time he spent dancing with his school mates. Then he stopped and quietly told me that he had failed- He didn't really speak to the girl he was interested in- she was doing a lot of the music.
I told him this was not failure- if he had asked her to the dance she probably would have said no because she was doing the music. Also, she has seen him out and about so she now knows you're not a stay at home and you like to have a good time. All you have to do is take some time out to talk to her. Which, eventually- you will do.
He was very happy though because he had been a finalist in the dance competition- I grinned at this and waded once more into my own school dance memories.
We still don't know who the secret admirer is.
1.23.2009
Moment 407: The First Day Of Basic
The Day I left out for basic I was pretty nervous.
It'd been a while since "AR-OH" and my Pop had been laughing and telling me "They're gonna eat you alive!" for the past two weeks.
They told me to report to Kelly AFB at the National Guard HQ that morning about 10am or something- and they would take me to Lackland where my Basic Training would begin. I guess they did this so they would know I actually showed up to go.
My mom walked me out to the car- I forget who actually drove me there or if I took a cab.
I'll never forget the huge hug she gave me in the driveway. We were never a family of hugs and "I love you"s. Not that I was deprived- we just showed our love in other ways- mostly bonding over movies, making each other laugh or encouraging one another to do better than we'd been doing.
When she pulled back she was crying! It had been a while since I'd seen my mother cry- long ago, back in the days of the divorce and all that craziness.
It caught me a little off guard because I was doing what I needed to do and at the time I was kinda in the mind frame of taking care of business- then there's my mom crying!
These were tears of joy, though- Tears for losing her big boy to the world- Tears for me. I always knew my mom loved me but at that moment- it was huge and still warms me to this day.
As I rode to Kelly AFB I checked to make sure I had all my shit- I had a couple of books I bought and my trusty Walkman! I knew if I could zone out at the end of the day I'd be alright.
Everyone at Kelly was SUPER nice to me. Offering me coffee and doughnuts. I had to fill out some paperwork. I did some swearing in thing. Kinda hung out for a while. It was cool!
People were saying hello and asking me what job I had. There were a few jokes about basic training- It was all good.
Finally, They put me in one of these shuttles where it was just me and the driver the whole way to Lackland- guess I was the only dude going to basic that day.
We talked for a while and he was giving me advice like everyone else at Kelly. "Keep your head up and your nose clean- you'll be done in no time."
Once I got to Lackland, he let me out with a "Good Luck- You'll need it." type line though I don't remember his words exactly.
I entered the building he told me to and sat on a bench in the hallway as I was told to do- He went around another way to let someone know I was there.
If The National Guard office made me feel all warm and cozy inside with their smiles and donuts- This hallway at Lackland was the exact opposite.
I sat solitary for a while- I could hear the clicks of taps against the highly polished black tile in the distance.
I was familiar with the sound from "AR-OH" because all the hardcore kids would get taps added to their shoes- I didn't think the military was any different. "Of course all the hardcore enlisted would have taps-" I thought to myself.
That's when I could hear a set of taps coming towards the hallway.
A uniformed woman- a Sergeant- appeared in the hall as she was passing through rooms- she looked at me sitting on the bench as she passed and as we had made eye contact, I smiled and made a small "hi" gesture with my hand.
This was a mistake.
She barreled down on me and began to shout.
"Is there something wrong with your hand Rainbow!? You see something to smile about here!? I'm not something to smile about, Rainbow! Do you know where you are!?"
Sometime during this barrage of questioning my R.O.T.C. kicked in and I snapped to attention. My hands pinned at my sides and my eyes locked forward.
This took her by surprise and in mid-tirade she stopped to admire how military I had become right before her eyes.
"Hmmm. Hands are pinned- You've done this before- R.O.T.C.?"
"Mam, Yes Mam!"
It was right about then that this other Sergeant showed up and he took me outside where my flight was waiting for me...
I filed into the formation they set up and after a little bit of yelling they "marched" us towards our barracks. Apparently I had missed out on quite a bit of yelling by being late to formation.
When they got us to the dorms in which we would be staying for the next 2 months- we were introduced to the "Day Room". This was a big area in the front of the barracks assigned to our flight. All of our big meetings would happen here starting NOW.
Our T.I. (Training Instructor- or Drill Sergeant to you laymen) introduced himself and laid down some rules:
"Now, some of you might have gotten a hold of some of these pamphlets that tell you
that your T.I. is sworn to respect you and will not use foul language in your presence..."
Which it DID say that and I was kinda thankful I wasn't going to have a Sgt. Killian type of situation in here...
"...Well, that is a shitton of BULLSHIT. We WILL do any and everything to make you into an Airman worthy of wearing a stripe in this man's Air Force- Including calling you out as a dumbfuck when you decide to screw the pooch!"
Damn! I should have known!
"This very same pamphlet advised you to bring your Walkmen or books and a slew of other kind types shit from your personal lives- well, I'm here to tell you that we will be collecting all that crap and putting it where it belongs- in a goddamn closet along with anything else you deem "personal"- you're military now. There is no "YOU"- just US!"
Ugh! Fuckin' Pamphlets. I fuckin' HATE military pamphlets. They've been jacking me up since middle school!
They then lined us up in front of cots and told us to put all our belongings in a locker behind the cot that we'd been assigned to.
We stood at attention in front of those beds- that looked like little soldiers themselves as they were tightly covered with thick, dark green blankets- as the T.I. and his assistants went down the line, going through our personal things and collecting all the "un-keepables". All the while they were calling us out and informing us what out new lives would be like-
"What you are now, are "Rainbows"- You are called Rainbows because you are still wearing the clothes you came here with. This is a sign that you are NEW and undisciplined.
T.I.'s LOVE Rainbows. There is nothing like chewing a little Rainbow ass in the morning.
On the following business day- you will receive your uniforms and then you will cease to be Rainbows. You will then be "Pickles". T.I.s love chewing the shit outta pickles TOO- but not as much as Rainbows.
Unfortunately for you the next business day is Monday! That means you get to spend the weekend being a Rainbow! Enjoy it because come Monday morning your personal clothes will be going in the closet with the rest of your shit!"
It was about then that one of the assistants going through the personal belongings found something of interest and handed it to the T.I. with a "Look at this-"
"What is THIS!" The T.I. remarked as he held up a condom. He looked at the owner which was a dude whose name I don't remember but I think it was Nelson.
Nelson was a young black dude with kind of a wild look in his eye. He just kind of smiled.
"You weren't planning to use this while you were here were ya!?"
"Uh, no." he said with almost a laugh.
"I don't see nothing funny here, Rainbow! What's your goddamn name!?"
"Nelson, SIR!"
"Give me twenty, Nelson- 10 for grinning and 10 for being stupid enough to bring a condom to basic."
The rest of the day went pretty much the same way- All of our personal items including my Walkman went into a bag and was stuffed in a closet in the Day Room and was shut with a big ass lock.
We had dinner and called it for the night.
That night I slept deep and for what seemed like forever. You know, that mind erasing kind of deep sleep where when you wake up you don't know who or where you are.
This was compounded by the fact that this was my first morning there and I was awoken to the sound of trumpets and someone banging a trash can as they walked up and down the aisle of our dorm.
The T.I. was yelling things like "wake up sunshine" and the like- and I will never forget how- typical it all felt.
It was like waking up in a movie- "What am I doing here?"- I thought to myself as I slowly climbed out of my bunk. For the first time- I was really looking my decision right in the face- and though the thought of what was about to happen really frightened me, I was also proud that I was going to face this like an adult. There was something manly about being in this situation.
This was the day that Airman Gorden was born.
It'd been a while since "AR-OH" and my Pop had been laughing and telling me "They're gonna eat you alive!" for the past two weeks.
They told me to report to Kelly AFB at the National Guard HQ that morning about 10am or something- and they would take me to Lackland where my Basic Training would begin. I guess they did this so they would know I actually showed up to go.
My mom walked me out to the car- I forget who actually drove me there or if I took a cab.
I'll never forget the huge hug she gave me in the driveway. We were never a family of hugs and "I love you"s. Not that I was deprived- we just showed our love in other ways- mostly bonding over movies, making each other laugh or encouraging one another to do better than we'd been doing.
When she pulled back she was crying! It had been a while since I'd seen my mother cry- long ago, back in the days of the divorce and all that craziness.
It caught me a little off guard because I was doing what I needed to do and at the time I was kinda in the mind frame of taking care of business- then there's my mom crying!
These were tears of joy, though- Tears for losing her big boy to the world- Tears for me. I always knew my mom loved me but at that moment- it was huge and still warms me to this day.
As I rode to Kelly AFB I checked to make sure I had all my shit- I had a couple of books I bought and my trusty Walkman! I knew if I could zone out at the end of the day I'd be alright.
Everyone at Kelly was SUPER nice to me. Offering me coffee and doughnuts. I had to fill out some paperwork. I did some swearing in thing. Kinda hung out for a while. It was cool!
People were saying hello and asking me what job I had. There were a few jokes about basic training- It was all good.
Finally, They put me in one of these shuttles where it was just me and the driver the whole way to Lackland- guess I was the only dude going to basic that day.
We talked for a while and he was giving me advice like everyone else at Kelly. "Keep your head up and your nose clean- you'll be done in no time."
Once I got to Lackland, he let me out with a "Good Luck- You'll need it." type line though I don't remember his words exactly.
I entered the building he told me to and sat on a bench in the hallway as I was told to do- He went around another way to let someone know I was there.
If The National Guard office made me feel all warm and cozy inside with their smiles and donuts- This hallway at Lackland was the exact opposite.
I sat solitary for a while- I could hear the clicks of taps against the highly polished black tile in the distance.
I was familiar with the sound from "AR-OH" because all the hardcore kids would get taps added to their shoes- I didn't think the military was any different. "Of course all the hardcore enlisted would have taps-" I thought to myself.
That's when I could hear a set of taps coming towards the hallway.
A uniformed woman- a Sergeant- appeared in the hall as she was passing through rooms- she looked at me sitting on the bench as she passed and as we had made eye contact, I smiled and made a small "hi" gesture with my hand.
This was a mistake.
She barreled down on me and began to shout.
"Is there something wrong with your hand Rainbow!? You see something to smile about here!? I'm not something to smile about, Rainbow! Do you know where you are!?"
Sometime during this barrage of questioning my R.O.T.C. kicked in and I snapped to attention. My hands pinned at my sides and my eyes locked forward.
This took her by surprise and in mid-tirade she stopped to admire how military I had become right before her eyes.
"Hmmm. Hands are pinned- You've done this before- R.O.T.C.?"
"Mam, Yes Mam!"
It was right about then that this other Sergeant showed up and he took me outside where my flight was waiting for me...
I filed into the formation they set up and after a little bit of yelling they "marched" us towards our barracks. Apparently I had missed out on quite a bit of yelling by being late to formation.
When they got us to the dorms in which we would be staying for the next 2 months- we were introduced to the "Day Room". This was a big area in the front of the barracks assigned to our flight. All of our big meetings would happen here starting NOW.
Our T.I. (Training Instructor- or Drill Sergeant to you laymen) introduced himself and laid down some rules:
"Now, some of you might have gotten a hold of some of these pamphlets that tell you
that your T.I. is sworn to respect you and will not use foul language in your presence..."
Which it DID say that and I was kinda thankful I wasn't going to have a Sgt. Killian type of situation in here...
"...Well, that is a shitton of BULLSHIT. We WILL do any and everything to make you into an Airman worthy of wearing a stripe in this man's Air Force- Including calling you out as a dumbfuck when you decide to screw the pooch!"
Damn! I should have known!
"This very same pamphlet advised you to bring your Walkmen or books and a slew of other kind types shit from your personal lives- well, I'm here to tell you that we will be collecting all that crap and putting it where it belongs- in a goddamn closet along with anything else you deem "personal"- you're military now. There is no "YOU"- just US!"
Ugh! Fuckin' Pamphlets. I fuckin' HATE military pamphlets. They've been jacking me up since middle school!
They then lined us up in front of cots and told us to put all our belongings in a locker behind the cot that we'd been assigned to.
We stood at attention in front of those beds- that looked like little soldiers themselves as they were tightly covered with thick, dark green blankets- as the T.I. and his assistants went down the line, going through our personal things and collecting all the "un-keepables". All the while they were calling us out and informing us what out new lives would be like-
"What you are now, are "Rainbows"- You are called Rainbows because you are still wearing the clothes you came here with. This is a sign that you are NEW and undisciplined.
T.I.'s LOVE Rainbows. There is nothing like chewing a little Rainbow ass in the morning.
On the following business day- you will receive your uniforms and then you will cease to be Rainbows. You will then be "Pickles". T.I.s love chewing the shit outta pickles TOO- but not as much as Rainbows.
Unfortunately for you the next business day is Monday! That means you get to spend the weekend being a Rainbow! Enjoy it because come Monday morning your personal clothes will be going in the closet with the rest of your shit!"
It was about then that one of the assistants going through the personal belongings found something of interest and handed it to the T.I. with a "Look at this-"
"What is THIS!" The T.I. remarked as he held up a condom. He looked at the owner which was a dude whose name I don't remember but I think it was Nelson.
Nelson was a young black dude with kind of a wild look in his eye. He just kind of smiled.
"You weren't planning to use this while you were here were ya!?"
"Uh, no." he said with almost a laugh.
"I don't see nothing funny here, Rainbow! What's your goddamn name!?"
"Nelson, SIR!"
"Give me twenty, Nelson- 10 for grinning and 10 for being stupid enough to bring a condom to basic."
The rest of the day went pretty much the same way- All of our personal items including my Walkman went into a bag and was stuffed in a closet in the Day Room and was shut with a big ass lock.
We had dinner and called it for the night.
That night I slept deep and for what seemed like forever. You know, that mind erasing kind of deep sleep where when you wake up you don't know who or where you are.
This was compounded by the fact that this was my first morning there and I was awoken to the sound of trumpets and someone banging a trash can as they walked up and down the aisle of our dorm.
The T.I. was yelling things like "wake up sunshine" and the like- and I will never forget how- typical it all felt.
It was like waking up in a movie- "What am I doing here?"- I thought to myself as I slowly climbed out of my bunk. For the first time- I was really looking my decision right in the face- and though the thought of what was about to happen really frightened me, I was also proud that I was going to face this like an adult. There was something manly about being in this situation.
This was the day that Airman Gorden was born.
1.22.2009
Moment 868: Obama's Inauguration
"I never thought I would see this day-"
That is probably the most popular quote I've heard for the past 2 months.
Now, I'm gonna jump out there and be real patriotic and tell you I LOVE THIS COUNTRY.
I always have.
As a young kid back in Texas I heard a lot of shit. Some of it racist as hell- and I didn't think much of it. I STILL loved this country.
I've had people tell me about Africa and how I should go back there (in both nice and not so nice ways) and it always pissed me off because THIS is my country. I ain't never been to Africa, SON!
I was born in the country of the brave and the free. Where you can be whatever you want to be...
Well, I'm older now- I've since learned that there are caveats to that be whatever you want to be and I DO want to go back to Africa- at least once.
Then here comes Obama.
My parents raised me to know whats up as far as being black in this country. It isn't a big deal if someone tells you from the start what the situation is.
"Keep your ass off the streets- 'cause if you fuck around and end up getting in trouble or killed the cops ain't going to give a shit about you. You just gonna be another nigga dead." My mom would tell me-
Mostly, I thought she was saying this to scare me straight- which I didn't need as I really didn't wanna "run the streets"- but as I grew older I knew she was actually being straight up.
When she was coming up people were getting ganked in the civil rights movement. Dogs where chasing blacks down in the streets- there were pools and public places she wasn't allowed to use or frequent.
God knows what Grandma told her!
Grandma used to work with SLAVES...YO! That ain't that far back.
People who stood up in the name of equality were getting put down.
Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King were both taken in the year that I was born.
What kind of world was my mother bringing me into? What was going through her head about that?
Now here I am. Married to a woman I could not be married to legally 40 years ago. With two boys who would have been considered abominations back then. Back during a time when Obama was coming up. He was being RAISED in the shadow of being an abomination to everything that was "right"- and yet...Here he comes-
The day was simple.
I took the day off work because I had to be with the family surrounded by friends.
The boys stayed out of school- which they were naturally happy about- but this would be the payoff for the campaign canvasing we all did in Philadelphia- we can thank Gaby for that, being the little political dynamo that she is- I was scared to do ANYTHING outwardly for Obama for fear that we might jinx it in the same way we did for Dean, Gore and Kerry.
We started to go to Barbes but Maura called and told us She and her son Declan could not get to the back because it was so crowded- so we all ended up at the Gate- which couldn't have worked out any better- Things happen for a reason.
We stood and watched. We laughed. We cheered.
After Biden was sworn in Nicolai broke out with "Well, there goes Chenney!"
Then it happened. He came. Obama was sworn in- nearly flawlessly. Then it was real.
Tears streamed down my face as I thought about all the things that my folks and relatives went through- I knew what their attitudes were and now we were looking at this! I kissed Gaby who was sobbing heavily. And I watched my boys as they stood with Declan between them- all three transfixed by the event. It is a sight I will never forget- these two boys, one with dreads, the other with green/blue eyes and Declan with his freckles and porcelain skin- all taking in the event as equals.
What a world we were passing onto them.
The Bartender at the Gate gave a short speech about community when it was all done and thanked us for choosing the bar to witness the event. The owner bought us all a drink and we continued to watch and get as drunk with spirits as we were with emotion.
I remember thinking- "You know, I shouldn't be this drunk at 5 o'clock."
Earlier in the day they talked about "The Beast". That is the presidential car that PRESIDENT Obama was being shuttled around in from all the events he had to attend during the day. It was said that he could run the White House from that vehicle- it had the lastest technologies- he could talk to world leaders- So you KNOW that shit is bullet proof, right!
So I was shocked and amazed when I look up and see that the President had decided to get OUT of the car and WALK in the parade towards the White House.
Oh HEEEELLLL NO! DUDE! Get yo' ass back in the car, man!
What a great day. We watched the balls and called it a night early.
The capper is this...
Today, Gaby is walking Adryanne to school and he asks-
"Mom, what do you have to do to become President?"
"Well you have to work hard, study hard, do work in your community and run for office."
"I want to be President- I already have some speeches ready."
Yeah. How cool is THAT?
That is probably the most popular quote I've heard for the past 2 months.
Now, I'm gonna jump out there and be real patriotic and tell you I LOVE THIS COUNTRY.
I always have.
As a young kid back in Texas I heard a lot of shit. Some of it racist as hell- and I didn't think much of it. I STILL loved this country.
I've had people tell me about Africa and how I should go back there (in both nice and not so nice ways) and it always pissed me off because THIS is my country. I ain't never been to Africa, SON!
I was born in the country of the brave and the free. Where you can be whatever you want to be...
Well, I'm older now- I've since learned that there are caveats to that be whatever you want to be and I DO want to go back to Africa- at least once.
Then here comes Obama.
My parents raised me to know whats up as far as being black in this country. It isn't a big deal if someone tells you from the start what the situation is.
"Keep your ass off the streets- 'cause if you fuck around and end up getting in trouble or killed the cops ain't going to give a shit about you. You just gonna be another nigga dead." My mom would tell me-
Mostly, I thought she was saying this to scare me straight- which I didn't need as I really didn't wanna "run the streets"- but as I grew older I knew she was actually being straight up.
When she was coming up people were getting ganked in the civil rights movement. Dogs where chasing blacks down in the streets- there were pools and public places she wasn't allowed to use or frequent.
God knows what Grandma told her!
Grandma used to work with SLAVES...YO! That ain't that far back.
People who stood up in the name of equality were getting put down.
Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King were both taken in the year that I was born.
What kind of world was my mother bringing me into? What was going through her head about that?
Now here I am. Married to a woman I could not be married to legally 40 years ago. With two boys who would have been considered abominations back then. Back during a time when Obama was coming up. He was being RAISED in the shadow of being an abomination to everything that was "right"- and yet...Here he comes-
The day was simple.
I took the day off work because I had to be with the family surrounded by friends.
The boys stayed out of school- which they were naturally happy about- but this would be the payoff for the campaign canvasing we all did in Philadelphia- we can thank Gaby for that, being the little political dynamo that she is- I was scared to do ANYTHING outwardly for Obama for fear that we might jinx it in the same way we did for Dean, Gore and Kerry.
We started to go to Barbes but Maura called and told us She and her son Declan could not get to the back because it was so crowded- so we all ended up at the Gate- which couldn't have worked out any better- Things happen for a reason.
We stood and watched. We laughed. We cheered.
After Biden was sworn in Nicolai broke out with "Well, there goes Chenney!"
Then it happened. He came. Obama was sworn in- nearly flawlessly. Then it was real.
Tears streamed down my face as I thought about all the things that my folks and relatives went through- I knew what their attitudes were and now we were looking at this! I kissed Gaby who was sobbing heavily. And I watched my boys as they stood with Declan between them- all three transfixed by the event. It is a sight I will never forget- these two boys, one with dreads, the other with green/blue eyes and Declan with his freckles and porcelain skin- all taking in the event as equals.
What a world we were passing onto them.
The Bartender at the Gate gave a short speech about community when it was all done and thanked us for choosing the bar to witness the event. The owner bought us all a drink and we continued to watch and get as drunk with spirits as we were with emotion.
I remember thinking- "You know, I shouldn't be this drunk at 5 o'clock."
Earlier in the day they talked about "The Beast". That is the presidential car that PRESIDENT Obama was being shuttled around in from all the events he had to attend during the day. It was said that he could run the White House from that vehicle- it had the lastest technologies- he could talk to world leaders- So you KNOW that shit is bullet proof, right!
So I was shocked and amazed when I look up and see that the President had decided to get OUT of the car and WALK in the parade towards the White House.
Oh HEEEELLLL NO! DUDE! Get yo' ass back in the car, man!
What a great day. We watched the balls and called it a night early.
The capper is this...
Today, Gaby is walking Adryanne to school and he asks-
"Mom, what do you have to do to become President?"
"Well you have to work hard, study hard, do work in your community and run for office."
"I want to be President- I already have some speeches ready."
Yeah. How cool is THAT?
1.19.2009
Moment 405: Mr. Gorden Joins The military...
It had been an long, winding road for just being a year and a half or so outta HS.
I had had enough of Target and so many of my friends had gone one way or another already. Some with kids. Some in college and others in the military.
I was looking for a chance to do something and I wasn't sure what but I figured school would help me figure it out.
I also knew I wasn't going to school without any cash- which I had very little of. The military was an out.
Now, I fiddle-fucked around with the idea and put it off for a while. You know, there was a shitload of things to do- taking a placement test and having a physical, meeting with a recruiter.
Back in the day- right outta high school I used to have this Army guy up my ass about getting into the military. He used to call my house. He talked to my parents. He saw me in the mall. One time this dude even CAME OVER! Seriously. He like knocked on my front door one Saturday morning.
The Army had put a bad taste in my mouth when they sent me a "free pair of stockings for Ms. Kimmy Gorden" with one of their pamphlets to join up. Even if I was a woman that didn't even make any damn sense!
But that was all like RIGHT outta high school- and now I had a good year plus of growth under me so now I was ready-
Now. I had a friend who had joined. His name was Michael Rogers. He was a good friend in school- meaning we didn't really hang outside of school but when we were at school we were pretty tight.
He was in ROT CEE and we had classes together. He didn't like it when I dropped AR-OH in my senior year- but we were still tight.
One afternoon I got a call from this dude. It seems in that year and a half or so that I messed around after High School- this dude had actually gone out and joined the Air Force! He was back on leave and of all the people he wanted to see- he fucking called ME! I told him I was thinking of going in but hadn't taken the time to go do the test or anything like that- so he was like "That's IT! I'm taking you downtown tomorrow so you can do the test and the physical- You're going to join up too!"
So the next day he shows up and we head downtown and next thing you know I'm taking tests and getting my nuts tweaked to see If I'm fit to serve in this man's military.
After all that Mike and I hung out a bit. I thanked him for running me down there- it was so spur of the moment and he seemed so determined. When he dropped me off I thanked him again and he was like- "Hey man, don't sweat it. I want you to join because it's a good thing and you wanna do it but also misery loves company!" And he laughed real hard.
I laughed with him. The bitch got me- but really that was a HUGE turning point in my life and I thank him for it to this day.
As he drove off I didn't realize that would be the last time I saw Mike Rogers. Sometime shortly after he returned to his base somewhere up north, he died in a car accident while street racing.
When I think about all the crazy shit I did in cars back home and came out alive- this dude gets his life cut short after one race. Damn.
This is a shot of Mike at our HS graduation- he's showing off the new haircut he got before going into basic. If I remember correctly- he went in a little after we graduated.
I digress...
I got my tests back and I was healthy and had a good enough score that I could choose which branch I wanted to apply for.
If I was going to do this- it was going to be Air Force.
It couldn't be the Marines- because it takes a special kind of person with a special kind of drive to do what a marine has to do.
It couldn't be the Navy- because SOMEBODY might expect me to swim and I wouldn't wanna disappoint anyone by drowning and dirtying up their pool.
It couldn't be the Army because- well, they couldn't get it together enough to know I was a man AND they tried to bribe me with pantyhose AND they had the audacity to knock on my front door. So- yeah, the bum-rush is not the way to get at me.
The Air Force was it.
I spoke to a recruiter and they were all down for it...until I told them about that time I accidentally took speed in the 10th grade. Then they were like "Sorry, no drugs."
I was like, "Dude. It was the 10th grade and it was an accident!"
"Nope. I can't help you- but maybe you should go talk to the Air National Guard. They'll have you."
He was right. I signed with them and they told me I would have to pick a job in a week or so- so I rolled home and called Gary.
Gary and I went Night Riding on the subject because after he had spent a year in Austin, partying his college money away (which was weird because Gary WAS a genius- He just had been withheld from fun for so long!)- he actually joined the Air Force Reserves some time ago. He was back in town after spending a great amount of time in "Tech School" which is where the military trains you in the job you have been assigned after basic training (which teaches you about the military).
San Antonio was a military town with like 5 bases including the Air Force training base (Lackland) so we already knew quite a bit about how shit went down. Plus my step dad was in and knew the deal but all he ever really told me was I would never be able to cut it in the military.
Gary had been on the inside though- so he had the latest skinny on basic training and all that- so this night ride was essential.
"You don't know, SHIT!" he said.
"What?"
"If they ask you if you know how to do something- tell them NO."
"What do you mean?"
"They'll ask you if you like to garden or something like that and if you say "yes" they're going to have you mowing a field."
"Oh!"
"Plus- never volunteer for anything because you will just end up putting yourself in a position to fuck it up and get in trouble."
"Oh- yeah!" I said- starting to see the light.
"You want to keep a low profile- just do what you have to do to get it done. Keep your head down and don't talk if you don't have to."
"Okay. I'm used to that. That's pretty much what I did in R.O.T.C."
"Oh yeah, you DID take that, hunh? I would definitely NOT tell them you were in AR-OH when you get to basic. That is some shit they do NOT need to know."
"But I'm supposed to earn an extra stripe." I replied.
"Don't worry about that- they'll get you your stripe AFTER basic- if they find out you were in AR-OH though- that can only lead to trouble because you're going to be expected to do stuff- stuff that you can fuck up and get in trouble for."
See! I told you Gary was good at doing math.
He told me a lot of good stuff that night- but one of the ones that stuck out was to try and avoid any Tech School that was longer than 4 months because he was in his 9th month of a sixteen month school and he was ready to kill someone.
Okay- No problem.
After a few days I went to a special recruiter on base to pick out a job because unlike joining the actual Air Force (where you get assigned a job based on what the military needs over what your skills were) the Guard showed you a list of jobs you qualified for and you would pick from that. Your actual start date would depend on when they had a slot opening up.
I had a big ass book to choose from- and I remember looking at it for quite a while.
Each job listing had a description of what you would be learning in tech school as well as how long the tech was. It also listed when the next slot was going to be open.
I don't remember all of the jobs that were in there but two of them stood out to me-
One was a meteorologist. That sounded like the shit. You got to study the stars and the weather. Stuff that I was kinda into- plus you had to stay in the woods for like 6 months... Idunno about staying in the woods for 6 months! Lemme see how long this tech school is- whoah 9 months!!! I don't think so- plus the next available slot was like in 4 or 5 months. Nah. I kinda needed to turn my life around sooner than that.
Then there was Medic. This appealed to me because if we ever had to go to war it wouldn't be my job to kill people- I would actually have to SAVE them. That would be cool. That's the kind of stuff heroes do. Lemme see the tech school here- 4 Months! Plus 1 month of on the job trainning! I think I like that. I likes that a lot.
The next slot opening was 2 weeks.
"I want that one." I told the recruiter.
"90210, eh?"
That was the job's title number.
"Pretty good, you will be assigned to the fighter pilots- you'll be their medic."
This job was getting cooler by the second.
"Alright, you got the slot- you will report here to me in two weeks in order to start your basic trainning." he said as he handed me a pamphlet about basic.
The military LOVES pamphlets.
This one was telling me about all the things I needed for basic.
It said I could bring my walkman and some books to read for when we had down time! How cool is THAT!? Man, as long as I had my walkman I knew I could do ANYTHING.
Yeah. This Air National Guard thing was gonna be a SNAP!
I had had enough of Target and so many of my friends had gone one way or another already. Some with kids. Some in college and others in the military.
I was looking for a chance to do something and I wasn't sure what but I figured school would help me figure it out.
I also knew I wasn't going to school without any cash- which I had very little of. The military was an out.
Now, I fiddle-fucked around with the idea and put it off for a while. You know, there was a shitload of things to do- taking a placement test and having a physical, meeting with a recruiter.
Back in the day- right outta high school I used to have this Army guy up my ass about getting into the military. He used to call my house. He talked to my parents. He saw me in the mall. One time this dude even CAME OVER! Seriously. He like knocked on my front door one Saturday morning.
The Army had put a bad taste in my mouth when they sent me a "free pair of stockings for Ms. Kimmy Gorden" with one of their pamphlets to join up. Even if I was a woman that didn't even make any damn sense!
But that was all like RIGHT outta high school- and now I had a good year plus of growth under me so now I was ready-
Now. I had a friend who had joined. His name was Michael Rogers. He was a good friend in school- meaning we didn't really hang outside of school but when we were at school we were pretty tight.
He was in ROT CEE and we had classes together. He didn't like it when I dropped AR-OH in my senior year- but we were still tight.
One afternoon I got a call from this dude. It seems in that year and a half or so that I messed around after High School- this dude had actually gone out and joined the Air Force! He was back on leave and of all the people he wanted to see- he fucking called ME! I told him I was thinking of going in but hadn't taken the time to go do the test or anything like that- so he was like "That's IT! I'm taking you downtown tomorrow so you can do the test and the physical- You're going to join up too!"
So the next day he shows up and we head downtown and next thing you know I'm taking tests and getting my nuts tweaked to see If I'm fit to serve in this man's military.
After all that Mike and I hung out a bit. I thanked him for running me down there- it was so spur of the moment and he seemed so determined. When he dropped me off I thanked him again and he was like- "Hey man, don't sweat it. I want you to join because it's a good thing and you wanna do it but also misery loves company!" And he laughed real hard.
I laughed with him. The bitch got me- but really that was a HUGE turning point in my life and I thank him for it to this day.
As he drove off I didn't realize that would be the last time I saw Mike Rogers. Sometime shortly after he returned to his base somewhere up north, he died in a car accident while street racing.
When I think about all the crazy shit I did in cars back home and came out alive- this dude gets his life cut short after one race. Damn.
This is a shot of Mike at our HS graduation- he's showing off the new haircut he got before going into basic. If I remember correctly- he went in a little after we graduated.
I digress...
I got my tests back and I was healthy and had a good enough score that I could choose which branch I wanted to apply for.
If I was going to do this- it was going to be Air Force.
It couldn't be the Marines- because it takes a special kind of person with a special kind of drive to do what a marine has to do.
It couldn't be the Navy- because SOMEBODY might expect me to swim and I wouldn't wanna disappoint anyone by drowning and dirtying up their pool.
It couldn't be the Army because- well, they couldn't get it together enough to know I was a man AND they tried to bribe me with pantyhose AND they had the audacity to knock on my front door. So- yeah, the bum-rush is not the way to get at me.
The Air Force was it.
I spoke to a recruiter and they were all down for it...until I told them about that time I accidentally took speed in the 10th grade. Then they were like "Sorry, no drugs."
I was like, "Dude. It was the 10th grade and it was an accident!"
"Nope. I can't help you- but maybe you should go talk to the Air National Guard. They'll have you."
He was right. I signed with them and they told me I would have to pick a job in a week or so- so I rolled home and called Gary.
Gary and I went Night Riding on the subject because after he had spent a year in Austin, partying his college money away (which was weird because Gary WAS a genius- He just had been withheld from fun for so long!)- he actually joined the Air Force Reserves some time ago. He was back in town after spending a great amount of time in "Tech School" which is where the military trains you in the job you have been assigned after basic training (which teaches you about the military).
San Antonio was a military town with like 5 bases including the Air Force training base (Lackland) so we already knew quite a bit about how shit went down. Plus my step dad was in and knew the deal but all he ever really told me was I would never be able to cut it in the military.
Gary had been on the inside though- so he had the latest skinny on basic training and all that- so this night ride was essential.
"You don't know, SHIT!" he said.
"What?"
"If they ask you if you know how to do something- tell them NO."
"What do you mean?"
"They'll ask you if you like to garden or something like that and if you say "yes" they're going to have you mowing a field."
"Oh!"
"Plus- never volunteer for anything because you will just end up putting yourself in a position to fuck it up and get in trouble."
"Oh- yeah!" I said- starting to see the light.
"You want to keep a low profile- just do what you have to do to get it done. Keep your head down and don't talk if you don't have to."
"Okay. I'm used to that. That's pretty much what I did in R.O.T.C."
"Oh yeah, you DID take that, hunh? I would definitely NOT tell them you were in AR-OH when you get to basic. That is some shit they do NOT need to know."
"But I'm supposed to earn an extra stripe." I replied.
"Don't worry about that- they'll get you your stripe AFTER basic- if they find out you were in AR-OH though- that can only lead to trouble because you're going to be expected to do stuff- stuff that you can fuck up and get in trouble for."
See! I told you Gary was good at doing math.
He told me a lot of good stuff that night- but one of the ones that stuck out was to try and avoid any Tech School that was longer than 4 months because he was in his 9th month of a sixteen month school and he was ready to kill someone.
Okay- No problem.
After a few days I went to a special recruiter on base to pick out a job because unlike joining the actual Air Force (where you get assigned a job based on what the military needs over what your skills were) the Guard showed you a list of jobs you qualified for and you would pick from that. Your actual start date would depend on when they had a slot opening up.
I had a big ass book to choose from- and I remember looking at it for quite a while.
Each job listing had a description of what you would be learning in tech school as well as how long the tech was. It also listed when the next slot was going to be open.
I don't remember all of the jobs that were in there but two of them stood out to me-
One was a meteorologist. That sounded like the shit. You got to study the stars and the weather. Stuff that I was kinda into- plus you had to stay in the woods for like 6 months... Idunno about staying in the woods for 6 months! Lemme see how long this tech school is- whoah 9 months!!! I don't think so- plus the next available slot was like in 4 or 5 months. Nah. I kinda needed to turn my life around sooner than that.
Then there was Medic. This appealed to me because if we ever had to go to war it wouldn't be my job to kill people- I would actually have to SAVE them. That would be cool. That's the kind of stuff heroes do. Lemme see the tech school here- 4 Months! Plus 1 month of on the job trainning! I think I like that. I likes that a lot.
The next slot opening was 2 weeks.
"I want that one." I told the recruiter.
"90210, eh?"
That was the job's title number.
"Pretty good, you will be assigned to the fighter pilots- you'll be their medic."
This job was getting cooler by the second.
"Alright, you got the slot- you will report here to me in two weeks in order to start your basic trainning." he said as he handed me a pamphlet about basic.
The military LOVES pamphlets.
This one was telling me about all the things I needed for basic.
It said I could bring my walkman and some books to read for when we had down time! How cool is THAT!? Man, as long as I had my walkman I knew I could do ANYTHING.
Yeah. This Air National Guard thing was gonna be a SNAP!
1.17.2009
Moment 296: Kim, The Military Ball and Teen Clubs
While we are in the vacinity of High School I will admit that I used to have this incredibly HUGE crush on a girl named Kim.
In fact- I get off on chicks named "Kim" 'cause I'm narcissistic like that.
Just kidding.
Seriously. I had a massive thing for Kim and I really can't tell you how I met her or anything like that. She wasn't in ROTC- Or was she? Maybe for a year-
She was a year younger than me AND she was in with the "cool kids" pretty much- because she was a total hottie.
Kim was Asian, petite, with a huge smile and warm eyes. She was just a nice person.
Again, I don't know HOW it came about that I was hanging around with her but we hung A LOT.
I used to go to her house which was completely out of my neighborhood back in some new developments on the other side of Marbach Rd.
It would take me about 30-40 minutes to walk over to her hood.
Man, I don't even know what I would be doing over there! Just hanging and what not.
We would listen to The Police because I was such a Police fan and she would tell me how much she was in love with Sting- each word would be stinging me right in the chest 'cause I didn't have nothing in common with Sting- OR that dude Corey Hart- You know, the "I wear my sunglasses at night" guy? Yeah, she liked him too.
Hated that motherfucker and his damn glasses. What kind of a dumbass wears sunglasses when the sun ain't out? Anyway.
If she was my Molly Ringwald, I was her John Cryer. Although, I'd like to think I was cooler than the Duck but truly, I wasn't. Heh.
Now this is terrible... I was going to work for Kim's mom as she owned a resturaunt in a little plaza area. It seems her mom wanted to fire her dishwasher and I would be filling that job.
I was anxious to get to work too. On the day that I was to show up, for some reason I could not find the place and ended up not going.
I called Kim and apologized and she said it was cool- Her mom would see me a few days later.
But that day never came to pass because the dishwasher ended up stabbing her mother to death in one of the most gruesome murders in the area. Real Bad Shit, yo.
I was there for Kim- totally. And I felt responsible somehow, too. Definitely bad shit.
Looking back, I never truly understood what she was going through but now I kinda know- How do you do that as a kid?
Kim lived with her dad after that- and I think he liked that I spent time with her as he was always working and whatnot. He must have sensed that there was no way I was going to be taking advantage of his little girl.
Yeah. So I would hang with Kim. Sometimes her friend Laurie would come over. It was cool and different from hanging with the dudes back on my block- but mostly it was crush time.
I remember one time being over there with the two of them and we decided to make something to eat that involved onions and the three of us dove for the onions at the same time because we all wanted to dice them. Hah. Weird memory but one that I often think about when I dice onions.
I digress.
It came to a point where ROTC was gonna have their Military Ball and I of course asked Kim to go with me. She said YES! Damn, I was happy.
I took all these extra shifts at "Jim's" as a busboy so's I would have the extra ducats to have a good time.
She drove and we went to the Ball and blew it up. There was food and dancing (which was my forte-) it was all pretty formal though and it broke up early.
I was happy as hell with that- but we had planned to go somewhere afterwards so I switched outta my Class A uniform and Kim was like, "You ready to go somewhere else?"
so I said, "Yeah!"
She wanted to take me to "Image".
"What's Image?" I said.
"It's a teen club."
Teen club? That don't even sound right but before you know it we were pulling up in front of this place with a buncha teens hanging out on the outside. We went in and it was like walking onto the set of an 80's teen movie with the exception of the dance floor which was an exact replica of the dance floor in "Staying Alive".
We ripped that floor up. I will never forget the freaky dance moves people did back then. This one kid was dressed completely in white- A big white suit that made him look like a member of Talking Heads- and he did this dance move where, every now and again, he would just pose with his arms out in front of himself and turn real slow. Funny as hell. But Deep man. DEEP.
So. The terrible thing about that night is after all the partying and Taco Cabana- The work I did all week finally caught up to me and I was nodding in and out of sleep on the way home. I got a peck goodnight and that was it. D'oh!
Hanging with Kim also meant that I got to know some of the cool kids, so I kinda hung with them too.
Once she set up this HUGE party where ALL the kids came. Laurie and I helped her set it up. There were people EVERYWHERE. There was all kinds of alcohol and out-of-control-ness.
The cops came and broke us up- TWICE.
That party put Kim on the map completely.
Kim and I were separated by life as she was a year younger than me and I was out in the real world while she was a Senior. I saw her every now and again because I still had some ties to other people in her class but it was rare.
A year or two later we met up somehow and she was living in her own apartment. She had a boyfriend but he wasn't living with her. We caught up. She had changed her name from Kim and apparently been through a thing or two.
She took some pics of me and poof- I never saw her again.
I don't remember exactly why I had her take some shots of me- I think I was trying to enter some modeling contest- but here are a few of the pics...
Total 80's here, man. Damn!
Total 80's again! But this time from the worm's eye view.
Aaaaand Sexy 80's! Get ya'lls mind outta the gutter! All we did is take pictures and I ONLY have my shirt off.
I shoulda bought some muscles before I took this shot!
In fact- I get off on chicks named "Kim" 'cause I'm narcissistic like that.
Just kidding.
Seriously. I had a massive thing for Kim and I really can't tell you how I met her or anything like that. She wasn't in ROTC- Or was she? Maybe for a year-
She was a year younger than me AND she was in with the "cool kids" pretty much- because she was a total hottie.
Kim was Asian, petite, with a huge smile and warm eyes. She was just a nice person.
Again, I don't know HOW it came about that I was hanging around with her but we hung A LOT.
I used to go to her house which was completely out of my neighborhood back in some new developments on the other side of Marbach Rd.
It would take me about 30-40 minutes to walk over to her hood.
Man, I don't even know what I would be doing over there! Just hanging and what not.
We would listen to The Police because I was such a Police fan and she would tell me how much she was in love with Sting- each word would be stinging me right in the chest 'cause I didn't have nothing in common with Sting- OR that dude Corey Hart- You know, the "I wear my sunglasses at night" guy? Yeah, she liked him too.
Hated that motherfucker and his damn glasses. What kind of a dumbass wears sunglasses when the sun ain't out? Anyway.
If she was my Molly Ringwald, I was her John Cryer. Although, I'd like to think I was cooler than the Duck but truly, I wasn't. Heh.
Now this is terrible... I was going to work for Kim's mom as she owned a resturaunt in a little plaza area. It seems her mom wanted to fire her dishwasher and I would be filling that job.
I was anxious to get to work too. On the day that I was to show up, for some reason I could not find the place and ended up not going.
I called Kim and apologized and she said it was cool- Her mom would see me a few days later.
But that day never came to pass because the dishwasher ended up stabbing her mother to death in one of the most gruesome murders in the area. Real Bad Shit, yo.
I was there for Kim- totally. And I felt responsible somehow, too. Definitely bad shit.
Looking back, I never truly understood what she was going through but now I kinda know- How do you do that as a kid?
Kim lived with her dad after that- and I think he liked that I spent time with her as he was always working and whatnot. He must have sensed that there was no way I was going to be taking advantage of his little girl.
Yeah. So I would hang with Kim. Sometimes her friend Laurie would come over. It was cool and different from hanging with the dudes back on my block- but mostly it was crush time.
I remember one time being over there with the two of them and we decided to make something to eat that involved onions and the three of us dove for the onions at the same time because we all wanted to dice them. Hah. Weird memory but one that I often think about when I dice onions.
I digress.
It came to a point where ROTC was gonna have their Military Ball and I of course asked Kim to go with me. She said YES! Damn, I was happy.
I took all these extra shifts at "Jim's" as a busboy so's I would have the extra ducats to have a good time.
She drove and we went to the Ball and blew it up. There was food and dancing (which was my forte-) it was all pretty formal though and it broke up early.
I was happy as hell with that- but we had planned to go somewhere afterwards so I switched outta my Class A uniform and Kim was like, "You ready to go somewhere else?"
so I said, "Yeah!"
She wanted to take me to "Image".
"What's Image?" I said.
"It's a teen club."
Teen club? That don't even sound right but before you know it we were pulling up in front of this place with a buncha teens hanging out on the outside. We went in and it was like walking onto the set of an 80's teen movie with the exception of the dance floor which was an exact replica of the dance floor in "Staying Alive".
We ripped that floor up. I will never forget the freaky dance moves people did back then. This one kid was dressed completely in white- A big white suit that made him look like a member of Talking Heads- and he did this dance move where, every now and again, he would just pose with his arms out in front of himself and turn real slow. Funny as hell. But Deep man. DEEP.
So. The terrible thing about that night is after all the partying and Taco Cabana- The work I did all week finally caught up to me and I was nodding in and out of sleep on the way home. I got a peck goodnight and that was it. D'oh!
Hanging with Kim also meant that I got to know some of the cool kids, so I kinda hung with them too.
Once she set up this HUGE party where ALL the kids came. Laurie and I helped her set it up. There were people EVERYWHERE. There was all kinds of alcohol and out-of-control-ness.
The cops came and broke us up- TWICE.
That party put Kim on the map completely.
Kim and I were separated by life as she was a year younger than me and I was out in the real world while she was a Senior. I saw her every now and again because I still had some ties to other people in her class but it was rare.
A year or two later we met up somehow and she was living in her own apartment. She had a boyfriend but he wasn't living with her. We caught up. She had changed her name from Kim and apparently been through a thing or two.
She took some pics of me and poof- I never saw her again.
I don't remember exactly why I had her take some shots of me- I think I was trying to enter some modeling contest- but here are a few of the pics...
Total 80's here, man. Damn!
Total 80's again! But this time from the worm's eye view.
Aaaaand Sexy 80's! Get ya'lls mind outta the gutter! All we did is take pictures and I ONLY have my shirt off.
I shoulda bought some muscles before I took this shot!
Moment 290: ROT CEE
R.O.T.C.
Or "ROT CEE"
OR "AR-OH"-
Whatever you wanna call it- I wasn't that good at it. I mean, I could march. I kinda knew what my uniform was supposed to look like- I don't think I had the head for it at the time though, you know?
We spent a lot of time learning about the military and how it works. It was very informative. You'd be learning what stripes meant what. Chain of command. A little bit of Air Force history- shit like that.
I used to love it when Fiegenbaum would roll in puffing on his pipe. That shit smelled awesome- plus his class would be mostly zen like. You know- like some jedi master passing knowledge onto his padawan. This was a rare treat though because usually the class was taught and run by SGT. Killian.
Yes. His real name was Killian.
He was what they call- "a screamer". That comes with that whole "SGT" thing. You would be in the class all nervous and shit, hoping you didn't get called on to do something. And now- when I think back- I can't remember exactly what the hell we did in class with him. I just remember not wanting to be called for anything. I should have kept a journal back then...
The BIG thing I remember about ROT CEE is inspection Fridays.
Every Friday we would have these inspections where you would show up to class and immediately file out to line up in "flight".
Sgt. Killian would come down the line and slowly pick us apart. First he would stand in front of you- almost nose to nose, then leaning to the right and then back to the left.
He would call out errors one by one and his assistant- another student from the class who was some sort of leader or something- would mark them down.
"Gig. Haircut."
"Gig. Mustache."
"Gig. Wrinkles."
and if there were too many- it would cause him to go into tirade.
"Gig. Shoe shine. Gig. Gig line- GORDEN!"
"Sir! Yes Sir!"
"What's wrong with you, Gorden?"
"Sir! Nothing Sir!"
"Oh! Well, did you iron your shirt this morning?"
"Sir! Yes Sir!"
"Really? 'Cause it looks like you ironed your shirt with a brick, Gorden!"
"No sir!"
"And then it looks like you used that same brick to shine your shoes, Gorden!"
"Uh, no sir!"
"And do you know how to shave, Gorden!? Because you have more hair on your face than I do my chest, Gorden!-"
"I've never- uh-"
"Do you respect this uniform, Gorden!?"
"Sir! Yes Si-"
"I don't think you DO!-" he would shout, as he got so close to my face it felt as if my nose was tickling the back of his throat- "Because you look like a HOG, Gorden! YOU LOOK LIKE A HOG!!!"
Yeah.
And I would do ANYTHING not to be in uniform that day- I had excuses out the wazoo, lit it was at the cleaners or I needed to get a new shirt that fit better- which was ignorant because I would just have to wear my uniform on Monday and get inspected anyway, but there was a slight chance I would get inspected by a fellow student as opposed to Killian.
The other thing that kinda bugged me out is that, like any military organization- we had a ranking system- which is cool! I mean, you need ranks in the military- but it was especially weird to give this sort of- you know, POWER to one student over another one in High School. You know? 'Cause they don't know how to deal and whatnot. For the most part it was cool but you can imagine some of the shit that went down. It was a fuckin' soap opera.
I didn't realize then that the actual military would be the same in a lot of ways. Bottom line is- I got to do some cool shit. Marching was kinda fun. I met some cool people too.
Ron- who lived on my street was an ROTC dude as well and I was thankful to have him as he was the only other dude who grew up with us that was in with me. So I had someone I could relate to. His mother was a single parent, too so- even though my Mom had been with my step dad for a while at that point- I think we could relate on that level a little as well.
I don't know whatever happened to Killian or Col. F- In fact- after I did my three years of ROTC (enough to earn an extra stripe should I join the military) I got the fuck out. My senior year was spent in art classes and rolling out to lunch early and my Fridays belonged to me.
Or "ROT CEE"
OR "AR-OH"-
Whatever you wanna call it- I wasn't that good at it. I mean, I could march. I kinda knew what my uniform was supposed to look like- I don't think I had the head for it at the time though, you know?
We spent a lot of time learning about the military and how it works. It was very informative. You'd be learning what stripes meant what. Chain of command. A little bit of Air Force history- shit like that.
I used to love it when Fiegenbaum would roll in puffing on his pipe. That shit smelled awesome- plus his class would be mostly zen like. You know- like some jedi master passing knowledge onto his padawan. This was a rare treat though because usually the class was taught and run by SGT. Killian.
Yes. His real name was Killian.
He was what they call- "a screamer". That comes with that whole "SGT" thing. You would be in the class all nervous and shit, hoping you didn't get called on to do something. And now- when I think back- I can't remember exactly what the hell we did in class with him. I just remember not wanting to be called for anything. I should have kept a journal back then...
The BIG thing I remember about ROT CEE is inspection Fridays.
Every Friday we would have these inspections where you would show up to class and immediately file out to line up in "flight".
Sgt. Killian would come down the line and slowly pick us apart. First he would stand in front of you- almost nose to nose, then leaning to the right and then back to the left.
He would call out errors one by one and his assistant- another student from the class who was some sort of leader or something- would mark them down.
"Gig. Haircut."
"Gig. Mustache."
"Gig. Wrinkles."
and if there were too many- it would cause him to go into tirade.
"Gig. Shoe shine. Gig. Gig line- GORDEN!"
"Sir! Yes Sir!"
"What's wrong with you, Gorden?"
"Sir! Nothing Sir!"
"Oh! Well, did you iron your shirt this morning?"
"Sir! Yes Sir!"
"Really? 'Cause it looks like you ironed your shirt with a brick, Gorden!"
"No sir!"
"And then it looks like you used that same brick to shine your shoes, Gorden!"
"Uh, no sir!"
"And do you know how to shave, Gorden!? Because you have more hair on your face than I do my chest, Gorden!-"
"I've never- uh-"
"Do you respect this uniform, Gorden!?"
"Sir! Yes Si-"
"I don't think you DO!-" he would shout, as he got so close to my face it felt as if my nose was tickling the back of his throat- "Because you look like a HOG, Gorden! YOU LOOK LIKE A HOG!!!"
Yeah.
And I would do ANYTHING not to be in uniform that day- I had excuses out the wazoo, lit it was at the cleaners or I needed to get a new shirt that fit better- which was ignorant because I would just have to wear my uniform on Monday and get inspected anyway, but there was a slight chance I would get inspected by a fellow student as opposed to Killian.
The other thing that kinda bugged me out is that, like any military organization- we had a ranking system- which is cool! I mean, you need ranks in the military- but it was especially weird to give this sort of- you know, POWER to one student over another one in High School. You know? 'Cause they don't know how to deal and whatnot. For the most part it was cool but you can imagine some of the shit that went down. It was a fuckin' soap opera.
I didn't realize then that the actual military would be the same in a lot of ways. Bottom line is- I got to do some cool shit. Marching was kinda fun. I met some cool people too.
Ron- who lived on my street was an ROTC dude as well and I was thankful to have him as he was the only other dude who grew up with us that was in with me. So I had someone I could relate to. His mother was a single parent, too so- even though my Mom had been with my step dad for a while at that point- I think we could relate on that level a little as well.
I don't know whatever happened to Killian or Col. F- In fact- after I did my three years of ROTC (enough to earn an extra stripe should I join the military) I got the fuck out. My senior year was spent in art classes and rolling out to lunch early and my Fridays belonged to me.
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