I used to know them...

The other home

Like many brats -- when it was time to settle down it was time to find someone who was settled. A good looking crowd they are. All my ex-wife's family. Third generation natives of Chicago's North Shore. The photographer announced the wife's family picture and as my new Irish Catholic relations came from every direction one guest laughed, "When does Rose Kennedy come rolling out in her wheel chair?" I thought it was hysterical. Maybe you had to be there.

I didn't think of looking for a family to go with my wife. That wasn't my intent. With hindsight it's easy to see I embraced my new wife's family and home and became a Chicagoan in short order. Much like moving in the Army - - I quickly absorbed everything in my surroundings.

I was married for 13 years to my wife and to these people. I loved them very much but after the divorce, except for four people in this picture, I never saw or heard from them again. In all fairness to them -- I never reached out. I wasn't sure how. They may feel the same way about me.

A couple of friends are going through a divorce and I always think of how sad it is to not only lose your spouse but their family as well. I lost so many friends in the Army after knowing them for a year or two. It's inconceivable to me to lose people you know for 13 years. When asked recently if I knew someone in this picture - - I said, "I used to." What an odd thing to say and yet it's the consistent theme of my life.

The Living Room

Home

My parents in the living room. I was discovering photography and this was taken by me. Some time in the 70's, somewhere in Colorado, sometime after 5PM. I remember this moment because it was repeated through most of my childhood. The old man came home, grabbed a beer and met my mother in the living room. My mother sipped a Coke and dad sipped his beer and they talked and smoked and caught up on the day that just happened.

New orders? Maybe. A promotion? Hopefully. Time out alone. Gratefully.

Cockiness

My father inscribed the photo with the comments you see. I'm pretty sure this is how he sees life. I know I see it that way.

Look at him. That's what I call cocky. This is Korea in 1960. My father was a young lieutenant in the Air Defense Artillery branch. That must have been cooler than cool in 1960. Screwing around with missiles...cutting edge stuff I imagine. Sure to give a man a sense of confidence. I am the shit.

Unfortunately, I inherited a lot of his confidence. Like anyone with lots of confidence it comes from a poor self image. Cocky people always feel like they're a screw up. They just don't want anyone finding out. That's why they're cocky. It's pretty simple.

Moving around a lot I discovered that most teachers don't like cocky kids. Especially those who show up in the dead of winter with a peeling burn from Texas. If you're different and you're cocky - - you're gonna catch some hell. I worked for a colonel in the army who said, " I'm so confused I don't know whether to scratch my watch or wind my ass." I know that has nothing to do this - - but he also told me, "You're a smart ass. It's in your walk. It's in your talk. You can't help it. Me? I like confidence. But most people don't. Remember that."

So there I am. Standing at that bar. A piece of me at least. A scared little boy puffing his chest out so the big fish don't eat him.

Lest we forget...

How long the Army can take to do things. Like pay it's troops. I looked everywhere for this yesterday...It's a day late for Veterans Day but at least I'm not three years late. This is a receipt for final payout to a Continental Army soldier, Roger Smith. It looks like Mr Smith served through 1780 (the end of hostilities) and was finally paid what he was owed by congress in 1783. This was typical and many veterans never were compensated or reimbursed by congress for expenses. The more things change...

By the way, these pay out slips are everywhere. Not more than a hundred bucks or so and I think an incredible piece of history for the price - - not to mention amazing water marks. This water mark is a wooded fence in a semi circle just centered at the bottom. You might be able to make it out if you click on the image to enlarge it.

Veterans Day

The two-oh-one file. When my old man came home carrying this --I knew it was time to pack and wait for the Mayflower truck. This is a day civilians wear a red poppy and wonder what the military must be like. But you know.

Civilians look at us behind the barb wire and MP guarded gates around the world and think we live in a prison. As a Brat, I looked out the gate to the civilian world of pawn shops, tattoo parlors, stereo warehouses and used car lots and wondered how miserable their lives must be. A career based on earning a buck selling to us....at 30% APR.

I know two brats read this. I'll keep at it until you stop.

Brat Books & Basic Training

The point of this was to give advice about being a Brat...And since I discovered I still had a lot to learn and was in no place to hand out advice...I decided to quit. I've quit a lot of things in my life. In fact, I tried to quit the Army. I called my father after two weeks of Basic Training and told him I had made a big mistake and was getting out. He told me he would support me in anything I decided to do but asked that I listen to him for just a moment.

He told me, "You've never finished anything in your life. You've started a helluva lot of things but you never complete them." He recited a list: Skydiving, hang gliding, rock climbing, sailing, rifle team, police cadet, Cub Scouts, Webelos, Boy Scouts, drums, bass guitar, surfing, archery, Judo, wrestling, horse back riding... After the list he sighed, "You know, basic training is nothing compared to Outward Bound." He hit me where it hurt. I'd like to say I was so ashamed that I grabbed something from deep inside and told him, "Forget it. I'm gonna stick this out." But I'd be lying.

The next morning I approached my Drill Sergeant. An American Indian, the man suffered an injury in the cycle prior to mine that made it impossible for him to turn his neck. He was still out on sick leave when the  picture of my class was taken. He had to turn his entire body to look in any direction. Or, at you. He was looking away from me when I told him I had thought long and hard about it and had decided I wanted a General Discharge. He slowly turned his entire body to me, looked down and said, "You red faced maggot...In order for me... to give you a General Discharge... I'd have to write up paperwork on your fucking ass and since I don't have the fucking time for something that fucking stupid I suggest you get your fucking ass back in the formation."

A few things: I was called red faced maggot because my face was sunburned. All the time. He used "fuck" like it like poetry. Lastly, he and not my father, kept me in the Army. I am grateful to him and wish he was in my picture.  By the way, that's me in the third row, second from the left. The only one looking away from the camera. I remember a car going by just before the picture was taken and all I could think of was how I wanted to be in that car... going anywhere.

These books are interesting. The first one is  "Military Brats" by Mary Edwards Wertsch and  published in 1991.  I have shared this book with numerous brats:  The President of the Union League Club of Chicago. An insurance underwriter. A naval officer's daughter I was secretly in love with. My father. It's not a tough read. By that, I mean it's engaging and fast. What was tough about it, for me, was learning why I was the way I was. So much of this book felt like a punch to the gut. And, for the very first time in my life, I felt like I belonged. Not to a place or town or country. But to people just like me. That's the power of this book. Get it. Read it. Make notes. Here are some of mine penned in the back of my copy:

Always second guessing

Superstitious

What's the point? We're gonna move anyway

I've got nothing to lose 'cause I've lost it all before

Always an outsider

Afraid of gut instincts

Short fuse

Doomed to failure

Sense of being watched

Afraid to ask for what I want

Not certain of who I am

Always have options

Desire for father's approval

The next book was written in 1970 by Dr. Victor Gonzalez. I don't think you could find it easily. Not that you'd want to. I've probably read Wertsch's book at least ten  times and bounced around it umpteen. I've started "Psychiatry and the Army Brat" I don't know how many times and I just can't get through it. It might be me but I think it's a thunderous bore. 

While I spent four years in the Army - -I spent 18 years as an Army Brat. And while I'll always be a soldier, I think my life as a Brat is the more interesting one.

Eating lunch alone

Part of moving...the biggest part...is making friends. It's hard to show up mid term in a high school. Darn hard. Understand this: These people are afraid of what they don't know...and that is you. Every Brat knows what it's like to eat lunch alone. Out of shyness, we try to come off like we want to eat alone. And that's when it starts. The misconception by other students that we're full of ourselves. Here's a clue for them. We'll eat with anyone! Anyone! That ain't being full of yourself. That's just not knowing what to do.

You can do one of three things:

1-Make no effort and continue to eat alone. The results? You'll grow up being very comfortable eating alone. This appears to be, from what I've read, only second to fear of public speaking. I'm very comfortable speaking in public and eating alone. So, you know what I did.

2-Eat with anyone who comes along and joins you at the lunch table. I did this as well. Not that I had any choice. You will then meet those unfortunates no one else will eat with. This only gets very bad for you.

3-Grab your courage and introduce yourself to people who look somewhat normal. First time I did it -- I was shot down. I crawled back in my cave and wonder of wonders, I tried again. Met the most wonderful kids in the world. We're still friends. And I'm old.

You want life time friends? Hang it out there. You wanna meet wack jobs hitting 12 on the koo-koo meter, they'll come to you. You wanna be comfortable eating alone...do nothing. But you're a Brat. I know you. You'll never do nothing.

"If you want to catch little fish, you can stay in the shallow water. But if you want to catch the big fish, you've got to go deeper." David Lynch, From the book, "Catching The Big Fish" Where was this guy when I was growing up?