*Tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap*
“Don’t be eyeballin’ me boy, it’s too early for this shit.”
*Tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap* *tap*
Thus began, at around 1AM on this day in 1993, my fifteen year adventure with the United States Air Force, which still continues. In the summer of 1992, thoughts about my future consisted solely of dread of having to get up at 3AM the next day to work the part-time breakfast shift at Hardee’s, and looking forward to getting back to my room in Mom’s house so I could light a cigarette and watch TV. I had just graduated High School that spring. After that, in one long graduation party spent underage drinking for a week at Myrtle Beach, I managed to blow every red penny of a fairly significant amount of “starting your adult life” money gifted to me upon graduation.
One day that summer, as I was on my way out to mow the lawn, Mom asked me to sit down for a while and proceeded to give me a fairly long talking to. I’m sure there was a bunch of stuff in there about life, success, ambition, etc. I’m sure a lot of it was suppose to be inspirational or at least encouraging. But that’s not what my 19 year old, long-haired, head banging, heavy metal, rebelling teenage brain heard. It heard something entirely different…
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