Friday, January 18, 2008

They Call It 'Puppy Love'

I am going to approach this post a little differently, and just go with what 'feels' right. By that I mean that i am not going to start with a title and work my way down.

Nope, instead I will just 'wing-it.'

Feels pretty good, so far. I mean I am feeling absolutely no pressure, whatsoever, to produce something that will live up to a title. Granted, I also am currently flailing around trying to think of an idea - got any?

Parents of teenagers, I have a question to ask you.... How the heck do you get a 17 year-old lovesick child to pull his, or her, head out of their (expletive deleted) and realize that there are more important things to worry about?

I mean just because I convinced my parents to separate, during my senior year in high school - for a girl, doesn't mean I want my 17 year-old to do something similar.

See, I knew something would pop into my head... Story time!

When I was a junior in high school my dad, a career Air Force Officer, was getting reassigned to; Omaha, Nebraska, Washington, D.C., or San Antonio, Texas. Which meant that once he got his assignment, we would be moving. No big deal, we've done it before.

In April of that year, 1984, I fell in Looooove. Yep, the cynical shy kid in the back row had found his love connection. Mon (oh, I should leave her name out)ez. Yep, she was going to be my wife and we'd grow old together and become fat and happy with lots of babies and grand babies.

Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad, but knowing myself the way that I do. It wouldn't surprise me if that thought actually.

Anyway, being in love one does not want to move away. I knew though that if I said I didn't want to move because of 'M' that we would be loading that moving van quicker than you can spell some really long word. Luckily, it was my senior year, AND I was in the reigning State Champion Marching Band, AND there was already plans on going to Orlando for a band contest.

*** Side note here for all of you band-haters. I don't recall our football team travelling all around the country in nice coach buses. Playing a trumpet did have it's advantages, don't forget that.

My dad got his orders in May, and I started my offense.

"It's my senior year!" - "We're going to Florida with band this year!" - "I think moving a kid between his Junior and Senior year of high school is against my Constitutional Rights!" (They actually laughed at that one.)

So, I tried and tried to convince my parents that separating me from my graduating class would just suck - never once mentioning 'M.' Heck, my grades didn't even suffer. Trust me, I was trying my best to stay.

CRACK!

Yep, they broke down and decided to keep myself, my brothers and my mother in Colorado, while my Dad moved to San Antonio. (Oh yeah, that factored into my dislike of the move as well. We were just there three years prior, and I wanted variety. Actually I wanted Omaha, don't really remember or know why just that I did)

Two weeks after my dad got settled in... You guessed it. 'M' and I were no more.

Now, I WANTED to move! This is when I found out the real reason that my brothers, mother and I stayed in Colorado, while my Dad moved to San Antonio alone. No, it wasn't a divorce - they will be married for 42 years in April. Nope, it was cheaper for us to stay in Colorado until we got base housing. So, my Mom kept working and my Dad lived in, basically an apartment on base - I think.

I graduated High School on June 1, and on June 2 we were heading down to San Antonio.

How's that for right off the top of my head?

That's the other thing I think I should mention for anyone that may read these entries. I usually write 'live' meaning that I don't edit and rewrite before I post. Don't know if that is the right way, but it is my way.

Okay, that's enough for now, I think.

Bye-bye!

P.S. - How did the title work out? Should I go back to title first then blog, or whatever?