"Though they had little to do with each other, and the time frames do not match, I was Catholic for about as long as JFK was President."
It's a Lovett
When I fi rst started attending drills in Missouri, the
recruiter set me up with a reservation at the Stony Creek
Hotel, right next to I-29. The place was beautiful and had
an indoor pool. Anybody who spends much time at hotels
knows that indoor pools are the best places to pick up
strange.
I had walked down to the pool-hot-tub area in nothing
but a brand-new pair of black boxers. They were not
underarmor, but they were stretchy and for the moment,
very snug. Sitting down quickly was a good idea, because
just walking around in those shorts made me start to chub.
The silky friction felt so good they made me want to run.
An older lady was already seated by the hot tub, and she
saw me approaching. She did not attempt to hide her glance
toward my swelling.
"Hi, my name is Melly. I like your.tattoos."
"I'm Heck, thanks."
I began to explain to her briefl y what the tattoos were
and where I had gotten them. She was not very attractive. In
fact, if later I discovered she was related to Herman Munster
or Lurch, I would not be surprised, but she had one of those
bodies that looked fucking amazing in a two-piece. One of
those bodies that looked so good, you just had to get her out
of that two-piece as soon as possible. She reminded me of
Shannon Kelly from Ultimate Surrender.
"Can I buy you a drink, or something?"
"I like the something end of that idea. Do you have
anything to drink in your room?"
"Well, Heck, why don't we go and fi nd out."
I watched her get up. Bending over, she almost
intentionally fell out of her top. I had to wrap a towel around
my mid-section, just to keep my growing bulge somewhat
discreet. Her walk was so gliding I imagined that she was
already working up a good slather.
We entered her room. "What's that?" I noticed a strange
looking golf club leaning in the corner next to a golf bag.
"It's a Lovett."
"A Lovett?"
"Yah, try it, you'll love it."
"That's good, I'll have to remember that one."
She continued to slather her way to the bed. "What's
that bulge in your pants?"
"It's a Lovett. Try it, you'll love it."
Dream Journal
Fuckin' dreams are weirdin' me out. I have no idea what
I did wrong, but I was sitting in the warden's conference
room receiving a good chewing. Whatever I did was beyond
a B-form, and it was also beyond a statement of charges.
The disciplinary action chosen by the warden was a night
in prison. Unit Manager Louis Vogel hand-cuffed me and
escorted me to protective custody, and locked the cell. I
woke up with a guilty conscience.
Weird.
"Have confi dence, not because of who you are, but
because of whose you are."
-- Chaplain Greg Tyler, Kansas City Chiefs
Mo, St Joe
People rally around the guy who can get up and limp
back to the huddle, spitting turf through the newly created
gap where his front teeth used to be. I do not know if Count
can be that guy or not. He has defi nitely taken the proverbial
sack his share of times. Hell, he might not even want to get
back into the game. All I can really do is show him what is
in store for him here if he wants the chance.
"Hey Count, I read the papers. I know about the
domestic disturbances. I know you're having a tough time.
You ever think about transferring out of that small-town
political machine you call a guard unit?"
"Who would possibly consider taking on a shit-bird with
a state-wide combat boot fi rmly planted in his backside?"
"The Missouri Air National Guard, that's who."
"How do you know?"
"Because I belong there. They took me in. They made
me feel like I belong. They aren't a bunch of misfi ts, but
they are forgiving, as long as you don't bring it with you.
If you want a fresh start, come with me to my next guard
drill. I'll talk to the recruiters and let them know you'll be
staying with me in my room at the Stony Creek. You can
hang out with me during drill. I'll show you around. You
decide if you can fi t in. Don't tell me that once a month you
can't drive two hours down to St. Joe."
St. Joseph, Missouri is a great little town. There are
about 75,000 people, and it sits in the Northwest corner
of Missouri, right on the river, less than an hour north of
Kansas City.
From my perspective so far, St. Joe's pride and joy is the
fact that they are famous for being part of the Wild West,
and for being the home of Jesse and Frank James. A handful
of the women have also reminded me that it is the "Show
Me" state.
The Missouri Air National Guard base is in the most
dicked-up location. The physical location was Rosecrans
Memorial Airport, in St. Joseph, Missouri, but you could not
get to it from St. Joe without going through Kansas. The C-
130 Hercules base is unusually confi ned. You see, the Army
Corps of Engineers re-routed that portion of the Missouri
River back in the 50s, but of course, they did not move the
state line. Now, the river runs east of the base, so there is a
portion of Missouri on the west side of the river. The entry
point is a two-lane back road from Elwood, Kansas, just
west of St. Joe. Whenever I drive through Elwood, I think of
The Blues Brothers, where Dan Akroyd had his character's
name tattooed between his knuckles.
Getting from St. Joe to the Air Guard Base at Rosecrans
Memorial Airport is an adventure. If you are leaving from
the Stony Creek Hotel, get on Interstate-29, and go south to
Highway 36 going west. Continue on Highway 36 across the
Pony Express Bridge over the Missouri River into Kansas.
Shortly after the fi rst exit into Elwood, take the next exit, 238,
turning north, pass the Snorkel International Manufacturing
Center, where they make cherry-pickers, scissor-lifts, and
other assorted telescoping apparatus, going back into
Missouri, which is the only path to Rosecrans Memorial
Airport, St. Joseph, Missouri. The Air Show occurs every
10 years because it takes fi ve hours to get twenty-thousand
people in the airport for the show.
My goal was to get Count to transfer from the Nebraska
Army National Guard (NEANG) to the Missouri Air National
Guard (MOANG) for the fresh start he so desperately
needed. Count showed interest because he was interested
in the possibility that lots of strange could exist and be had
there. Count was about to have a change in his thinking. In
fact, Count was about to have a change of heart. All that
changed because of the prayer breakfast on March 5, 2006.
Count began to change his life. He focused on a statement
made by Chaplain Greg Tyler of the Kansas City Chiefs,
"Have confi dence, not because of who you are, but because
of whose you are."
Map showing the Rosecrans Memorial Airport in St.
Joseph, Missouri, just north of Elwood, Kansas. Note that
the airport is west of the Missouri River, and only accessible
from Kansas.
Prayer of Saint Francis.
Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy;
O Divine Master,
Grant that I may not so much seek to be
Consoled as to console;
To be understood, as to understand;
To be loved, as to love
For it is in giving that we receive,
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.