Tales Part I

Welcome to the first of a three part series on my blog.  The idea of the series is to share a little more about myself in a personal, but not private, matter.  The entire assignment was in a collage, or mosaic, style.  This means that the stories are not necessarily in chronological order but they're connected.  He also wanted us to make it pop more than a normal paper.  In other words, ignore everything I learned about formatting in grade school.  Your computer is not messed up.  The essays are supposed to look that way.  It hasn't been returned by my professor yet so ignore any spelling or grammer errors that I may have missed.


Age 10

            It's finally the summer.  Everyone in school looks forward to this time of year.  No homework and no teachers.  Freedom.  It's early.  It's way too early for me to be awake but today my sister is at her friend's house so I get to go to work with Dad.  The two of us head to McDonalds and I pick my favorite, Egg McMuffin meal with orange juice and a hash brown.  It's still dark outside and there are a lot of empty fields around here.  We finally pull into the National Guard base and head to the helicopter hanger.  Dad leaves me with my Egg McMuffin and makes his way out to the fueling truck.

            This base is big but I've done my share of wandering.  Most of the people here know my name but I don’t know any of them.  They must be friends with my dad.  After I make a few laps, I head back to the workshop to wait for Dad.  Today we are spray painting an old toolbox and putting my name on it. 

Age 20

            I've recently made the decision to join the military.  A co-worker in the Air Force Reserves told me to check out every branch before I sign up.  I took her advice to heart and I'm heading to the National Guard base to meet with the recruiter.  It's been quite some time since I walked these halls but as soon as I step inside memories flood me.  There's a smell of diesel and truck parts in every inch of the building.  It hasn't changed a bit. 

            The recruiter meets me and gives me a tour.  He's a serious looking man, just a little bit shorter than I am. 

What surprises me is that he doesn't have a mustache.  I distinctively remember all military men having mustaches.

"My Dad used to work in this building," I said.

"Oh yeah?  What unit was he in?"   He responded but I could tell he didn't care. 

I don't know if it's a gift but I can read people.

I reply, "No, I'm not sure.  He fueled helicopters"

"Oh, OK."  The tour continues.  Odds are I know this building better than he does.

            We reach a part of the building that used to be offices.  They've been converted into classrooms.  He tells me that they offer classes to people who have signed up and are waiting to leave for basic training.  I can come in on a Saturday for a full day to learn about marching, guns, and physical fitness.  Lunch will be provided.  Wow.  That sounds awful, I think to myself.  This isn't the place for me.

            After the tour, we make our way back to the recruiter's office.  I'm honest and I tell him that I am going Army.  This doesn't please him but I don't care.  I don't really like this man.  He gives me a list of benefits I'll have through the National Guard that the Army won't provide, including more college money.  I won't need college money.  School's not my thing.  The recruiter is persistent.  He doesn't seem like the person who takes NO for an answer.  That's all he's getting from me today.