Truck U. 4

We skipped the light fandango turned cartwheels 'cross the floor
I was feeling kinda seasick but the crowd called out for more
The room was humming harder as the ceiling flew away
When we called out for another drinkthe waiter brought a tray....

I had received my classes for the first quarter. A full load. And in hindsight-er, 20 or so years later-methinks it would have been better to have been a little less ambitious. I was a stranger in a strange land. Should have taken basket weaving 101 or remedial English where the subject matter consisted of "See Jane run." And "See Dick run." But, alas, hindsight is 20/20.

I ambled up to one of the desks to choose my p.e. assignment- physical education for the uninformed. Truck U. offered scuba diving, bowling, archery, volleyball, etc. Hey, this will be fun. I liked to bowl and scuba diving sounded intriguing so my choices had been narrowed. And 6 semesters of p.e. were required. I could always take horse back riding, water polo, touch football, and parachuting at a later date.

"M'am, I've decided on bowling or scuba diving, please." I said to the p.e. administrator who was in charge of validating my request.

"Oh, you have, eh? Well, I've got news for you. You are required to take "Conditioning Exercises," "Grueling Calisthenics," taught by Coach Hardass or "Preparing for Basic Training," ( for those of you who will undoubtedly flunk out ) under the auspices of G.I. Joe, himself, Colonel Jesup, in the first two semesters."

"No badminton, eh?"

"Correct."

"Give me grueling calisthenics." I said meekly. Maybe it would be a good idea to get into better shape even tho I was up to a pack a day. Winstons in the red pack.

I also took Anthropology, an English class where we learned more about grammar, Mathematics 101, and Military. Yes, I would have to join the Military. [ Air Force ] Off I'd go into the wild blue yonder?

Military was required for the first year at Truck U., but there were rumours circulating around campus that involuntary subscription would soon be optional. We were all hoping for the cease and desist order. We had come to college to learn and advance our stations in life, and because we were horny teens, we had adopted the motto, "Make love, not war."

The closest thing we had come to actual sex, at least in most of our cases, had come under blankets with a magazine in tow. Sure, we had had girlfriends who liked to kiss and would allow a quick glancing feel via the chest region, but that was the extent of it. Plus, I looked like I was 14 and the chicks dug the manly, experienced types, to which I was not privy.

Keith had joined the Air Force, too, and our first day we looked rather spiffy in our blues. We were in the same company and rode the bus together to drills. We got off and lazily started walking towards our battalion. We were in for a surprise when our platoon leader greeted us with:

"Hey, you piss ants. Move it, move it, move it. Get the lead out of yer ass. Let's go!"

For whatever reasons Keith just didn't like anybody talking to him in such a manner. And privately told me if this kind of treatment continued, he would have to retaliate against our commander.

"What'll yawl think this is? High school? Move it, piss ants!"

We marched around a while and had an obligatory inspection from our new leader. Inspecting the new troops he sauntered up to me and said:

"Where you from, boy?"

"Rowdy High, sir!"

"Rowdy High. I want to know where you from, son. Your home town, not where you went to goldarn high school."

"Golden Pond, sir. United States of America, sir!"

"I heard only two things come from there, boy, steers and beers. Which one is you?"

Thinking of Bubba's, I humbly mumbled, "Beer, sir!"

My new Air Force Team Leader shook his head, muttering under his breath as he checked out a new recruit.

I was bone-tired from "conditioning exercises" as we made our way back on the school bus to our dorm. Keith was still peeved about the hazing we received.

"I ain't takin' no shit off that little bastard," he said.

"You better watch your step, amigo. You know you can get court-martialed and expelled from the corps. And it will appear on your permanent record. You will be labeled as an outcast." I said.

"I don't care, vee. I ain't takin' no shit off him or nobody."

I didn't say another word. And closed my eyes. Hungry, I looked forward to indulging in dinner at Smelling Hall. A cafeteria on campus where you could select anything you wanted. Hamburgers, fries, pasta, starches, sweets, here we come.

"Vee. Here's where we get off." Keith said as he shook me from my brief ten minute power nap. [ this terminology had not been invented b.i.t.d. but will be used here per poetic license ]

She said there is no reason and the truth is plain to see,
that I wandered through my playing cards would not let her be.
One of sixteen vestal virgins who were leaving for the coast
and although my eyes were open they might just as well been closed....