A Three Hour Tour

Andrew Smith, who lived in the room above me in Echo Company my senior year, was in Tampa on business last week. I work in Tampa but am new to Florida – I drove around for approximately three hours trying to find his hotel one evening before giving up and driving an hour home.

We decided to make lunch plans with our limited time and he gave me the address of the office he was working out of – two blocks from my office! His colleagues had extra tickets for that evening’s dinner cruise on a yacht and invited me along. Great food, great people, free drinks and some really great, relaxed conversation with Lt. Smith in a beautiful environment both in the dining room and on the promenade deck.

The Triumph and Tragedy of Poetry

There were no Poetry Slams in the 80’s (to my knowledge). There was, however, the Forensics umbrella which included various forms of competitive poetry reading.

The year I was involved in this, 86/87, was the year civilian clothes were absolutely forbidden by the otherwise perfect and saintly Col. Merritt. This meant I had to wear my uniform which made me stick out like a zit ready to explode. I couldn’t exactly be judged by my performance when I’m wearing, basically, a costume or sign that says “I’m from a military school! Judge me accordingly!” If my family could have afforded the prep-school looking civilian-ish outfit offered at the Quartermaster, I might have fared better.

To counteract what I considered my fascist appearance, I decided to present some “anti-war” poetry.

Unlike poetry slams, in formal competitive poetry you can not read anything you’ve written. Or your friends, for that matter – it has to be published poetry. So I used lyrics:

• “Master of Puppets” by James Hetfield
• “Goodnight, Saigon” by William Joel
• “For Whom the Bell Tolls” by James Hetfield

I wasn’t … by my standards … very good … but I can act and project and stuff. It always came down to me and this one other guy. No matter where I went in the state I had to face him. He always got first place and I always got second.

He was so good. I hated him for it. This bastard would start off slow … then body slam the judges by doing Shel Silverstein’s “Deaf Donald” … it was always over by then but did he stop? Oh NO just in case there were any judges still considering me, he’d then go into this epic reading of “The Sounds of Silence” and pound me into the ground.

I had more to write but now I’m in too sh***y of a mood.

School Ring Ceremony

Cadet Jay Sprout accepting his Howe Military School ring from the Bishop during the 1986/87 school year. Matthew McDonough is the cadet on the far right. Mr. Richard Piper is to the bishop's right.

What I remember most about Howe Military Academy were the traditions. The ceremonies that had been performed for over 100 years before I got there. The ring ceremony was one of the greatest. Equal to or greater than the Boar’s Head Dinner. It was a huge ball. Formal, elegant, wonderful. Each senior received their school ring from the bishop.

Howe does not not have mere “class rings” that look like ever other school’s class rings. These are unique rings worn by only those from Howe Military School. Each one the same except for the year on the side and your name engraved on the inside. If you see another alumnus wearing theirs by chance in an airport or some other chance meeting you know you have something in common with them that no one else shares.

I remember staring at Colonel Merritt’s every time I was near him. It was decades old and he’d never removed it. All the engravings were worn smooth by the years of his life. The ring was only recognizable by the faint details of St. James’ Chapel and the ring’s other defining characteristic – the rectangular onyx stone.

It’s a beautiful thing.

The ceremony was beautiful as was the location. I remember my Mom drove my girlfriend at the time to be my date. This was the girl I gave my virginity to with an AC/DC record (yes, a 33 1/3 vinyl LP) playing in the background. Wow. I lost my virginity to this girl and I haven’t spoken to her in 20+ years. Wow.

Pilgrimage To Stratford

I believe it was my senior year when a bunch of us drove to Stratford, Ontario for the Stratford Shakespeare Festival. I saw two or three plays – Man for All Seasons (which still affects me to this day) and an awful, modernized version of, I think, Shakespeare’s Cymbeline. What made this particular performance interesting (aside from its suckiness) was a friend of mine from metro Detroit was attending the same performance with her schoolmates. I scanned every face in every crowd that day but couldn’t find her.

Stratford is, it goes without saying, a magical place. I promised myself that one day I would return and buy a bust of Shakespeare I coveted. I also remember being in a record store and buying a couple Little Richard cassette’s and Blah Blah Blah, the new record by Iggy Pop.

We all stayed in a nursing school dorm (I don’t know what brilliant school administrator thought, “Let’s put a bunch of horny teenage boys in the nursing school dorm” but … oh, wait, “school administrator” and “brilliant” are probably contradicting terms) and my roomie was Andrew Smith which was great because he was pretty much the only member of my senior class that I could stand (that I knew – I did not speak a word to Stephen Bates until our 20th reunion).

One of my coolest memories was the evening we arrived back on campus from Christmas break. I was hanging out in Andy’s room listening to a great group called Mannheim Steamroller. Andy was a real fan – he had several albums and this was before, I believe, they had their megahit with “Deck the Halls.” Andy had brought me an Aboriginal coat of arms… an animal skin shield with two crossed spears. Very cool.

Specific Music Memories

There are many songs and bands that bring back specific Howe Military School memories. What might be my soundtrack for a movie about me at Howe.

8th Grade (82/83) – I remember hearing Stevie Nicks (I think Forbes-Watkins and Flesch had those cassettes from Columbia House) and Joan Jett for the first time. Wasn’t very impressed with Stevie Nicks (until years later). I remember some kids being very into Ted Nugent (the bossy little runt and … what was his name … Seymour) who I also wouldn’t appreciate until later. If you owned an electric guitar, like I did, there were these kids who would insist on asking to play “Iron Man” by Black Sabbath or “Smoke On the Water” by Deep Purplebut I didn’t like either of those bands either. These jerks had rank and were, generally, bigger than the kids who actually played and owned the guitars so they would blow out the amps, etc. with no consequences. For me, what I remember listening to (don’t laugh) was Arlo Guthrie, the Saturday Night Fever soundtrack, and, oh … wait … I now do have memories of listening to Alice Cooper Goes To Hell, because instant, sweetened, iced tea always makes me think of that album. Or is it vice-versa? Also, I was introduced to Blondie and Elton Johnthat year. Again, either Forbes-Watkins or Flesch gave me Jump Up by Elton John and Hot Space by Queen – both of which are still two of my favorite albums.

Summer Camp (Summer of 1985) - Vivid memories of listening to We Sold Our Soul For Rock and Roll by Black Sabbath, an album or two by Venom, and to this day I can’t hear “Hotel California” by Eagles without thinking it’s about the Church of Satan because of all the conversations we had about it. Can you tell where I was spiritually at that point in my life? On a somewhat lighter note, I bought 2-3 albums by Lou Reed that summer – old stuff in the bargain bin like Street Hassle, Rock and Roll Heart and The Bells.

11th Grade (85/86) – Though I was mostly into the Doors, Twisted Sister’s Come Out And Play album was high on my rotation list (as were their other albums). I can still remember getting The Last Command by W.A.S.P.at Kmart and listening to it with my walk-man while I waited for the bus to come pick us up. Doug Knowlton introduced me to the Sex Pistols, Psychadelic Furs, and the Ramones.

Sometime in 1986 I fell in love with Lizzie Borden via their live album, The Murderess Metal Road Show, quickly followed by Menace to Society which I may have bought my senior year along with Me Against the World.

12th Grade (86/87) - Inside the Electric Circus by W.A.S.P. was a big moment for me that year, but mostly I remember getting a lot of Little Richard. Billy Idol’s amazing Whiplash Smile album also came out my senior year. This was also the first time I heard Bob Dylan and I was hooked. The most important album that year for me, though, was Blah Blah Blah by Iggy Pop. My first roomie in Echo company – also a teammate on the Cross Country (or was it Track?) team – got me into Ministry, Depeche Mode and the Pet Shop Boys. My second Echo roomie brought a brand new tape back to school with him after visiting home and while I was trying to decide whether I thought the girls were kinda hot or not, he said these guys called Poison really rocked. And they did – at least for that first album, Look What the Cat Dragged In. 

Meet the New Boss

I can remember the first time I walked up to Echo Company as the new lieutenant. I was nervous and happy. My second in command guy really wanted me to give a hardcore speech to show them I was going to be tough and expect a lot of them, blah blah … he apparently thought they were slackers. I think I even gave them a stupid speech like that. I don’t know why that suddenly fills me with regret 22 years later. It certainly would be interesting to go back and try some experiments based on what I’ve studied of Management, Leadership, Organizational Development, etc.

Hmm…

In Delta, I felt very much a loner. I remember staying in my room a lot listening to music, reading, studying, cleaning … I became a much more social animal in Echo. Neither in my junior nor senior years did I feel like I was liked or accepted in Delta. Everytime I think of a reason for these feelings, I come up with reasons those feelings are stupid.

I definitely want to think a lot more about this.

Unlimited Poweeeeeeeerrrrrrrr!

The subject of this post is a quote from Emperor “Darth Sidious” Palpatine in Revenge of the Sith as he’s killing Mace Windu. I chose it because …

My mother said the weirdest thing to me the other day. First, she said she was disappointed when I turned in my rank my junior (sargeant stripes) and senior (lieutenant) year, then – and this is the weird part – she said, “I never understood why you didn’t want the power.”

Why I “didn’t want the power.” I’m still confused by that. Is my mother the type of person who desires and/or respects power? Does/did she think I was that sort of person?

I just can’t wrap my head around it. Who would? Want power, that is. I know there are those people who simply want to “move up the ladder” and are fond of saying things like “I’m the boss” but I’ve never been that guy.

I’d love to be a teacher but the thought of becoming, say, a principal, makes my stomach hurt. If I were a cop, I’d be the guy who would never want a desk job.

To clarify, those guys in the Air Force who said things like “Don’t call me ’sir’ – I work for a living!” were equally weird to me.

My senior year, I got in trouble for various antics like having my platoon march into a snow drift … because, you know, if you told them to – they would. That cracked me up. They’d just keep marching into this snow, piling on top of each other because their platoon leader told them to. I’m sure at the time I thought I was making a point.

They would have demoted me to Master Seargant and then promoted me back in a few weeks but I just asked to be relieved of duty. The Upper School Headmaster, Mr. Piper, was kind enough to represent me at the disciplinary hearing.

Being responsible for two or three dozen kids who couldn’t clean their room, march, etc. was just more of a burden than I wanted at age 17. In my mind, being promoted was the punishment you were given for doing well.

Bouton Auditorium

Bouton Auditorium was the first thing I ever saw at Howe. I remember walking up with my parents to the registration table which was set up outside in front. At that point, I was pretty nervous. I simply didn’t know what to expect.

The ticket window which I don’t recall ever being used. I don’t think we ever had a paid event. That would be a way to make money and get exposure for the school … I wonder why they don’t … maybe the sound and lighting isn’t up to a necessary standard.

Below is the stage (duh) as seen from the audience. When we performed A Comedy of Errors, we actually built an apron for a full-effect Shakespeare-era proscenium with that extra space reaching into the audience for soliloquies and such.

 

And the audience from the stage…

That view holds special memories for me. Not because of the play but because it was from there, as I received some medal or trophy during graduation weekend, that I saw my father – whom I did not expect to come because my parents had been divorced for a while – sitting toward the back, giving a small wave to say that, yes, he was here. That is one of my most treasured memories. Apparently, he spent that night in my Mom’s hotel room while his fourth wife waited for him back in Detroit.

Fuzzy Teddybears

That’s what we called ourselves. “We” being four teenage boys who could barely play “Living After Midnight” and maybe a couple other heavy metal classics. Somewhere I have pictures of Doug Witherow, myself, Dog, and our guitarist whose name I don’t recall with our instruments. We practiced in the common room of the dorm that used to be Alpha Company. Alpha was only being used as storage and the common room was walled up and blocked from from the rest of the building. The school gave us a key and we played without heat. The closest we ever came to playing live was entering the lip-syncing contest.

The Legacy of Nathan Zoss

Part 2 of The Force of Nature Called Zoss 

I believe I’ve noticed some dress grays on campus my last couple visits. If the current cadets like those – they should thank Zoss. He and another cadet fought constantly for a return to those uniforms from the current Air Force type blues. He was very passionate about tradition and I know he had some other pet issues, too.

He was also a Zeppelin fan. After the Class of 1986 graduated, I think he and I were the only Zeppelin fans left. My senior year there was a lip-syncing contest (no, sadly, I’m not kidding) and he “sang” the Zeppelin song “All of My Love” and was clearly serenading Mrs. Deter which, for some reason, really upset Matt McDonough, a junior who would be Batallion Commander the following year.

Senior Circle

I have no idea whether or not this tradition still stands, but as of 1987, only seniors were allowed on “Senior Circle,” a round (hence the name “circle”) between the dorms. This made it pretty inconvenient if you were an underclassmen because you had to walk all the way around this thing to get from one dorm to another instead of just walking straight across.

At the end of every year, seniors had a schoolbook-burning bonfire on Senior Circle and paddled the junior class. If you didn’t get paddled, you weren’t allowed on Senior Circle – even in your senior year. During my junior year, all my friends were seniors and during my senior year, most of my friends were underclassmen. I wasn’t fond at all of  most of my class. I opted for the “no paddle” and “no senior circle” experience. I thought any manner of hazing or initiation like this – or the Varsity Club – was ridiculous. I saw no reason to do anything that would make me any more part of a group of people I really didn’t like.

During the winter of my senior year, me, my roommate and … probably “Dog,” the drummer of our really crappy heavy metal band, were walking back to Echo Company from somewhere and I said let’s just run across Senior Circle. It didn’t take any effort to convince these two … neither were what you’d call outstanding cadets.

As soon as we walked in the door, we were called up to Batallion Staff – a suite on the second floor of Echo Company reserved for the top few officers in the corps. I can’t remember what happened to us … maybe I blocked it out … but I do remember doing it was thrilling and getting caught was terrifying – especially because Theron Richardson (RIP), the cadet who saw us, really didn’t like me at all. Below is the view of Senior Circle from the Batallion Staff lounge window.

Did I Imagine This?

Late one night during my senior year, me and Jeffrey Russel (RIP) climbed the antenna in the picture above and jumped through a window into Colonel Trout’s office. I’m sure of this. I remember it vividly. And yet … when I took this picture, I thought, “How is that possible? That’s a small window.” And that antenna wasn’t as close to the window as I remembered. I’m sure we did it, though, because we were so cool like that. We didn’t mess with anything (why tempt fate?). Just the thrill of being in his office when we weren’t supposed to be like super-cool ninjas was a thrill enough.

I called Jeffrey not long after graduation and found out from his mother he’d recently died in a car accident. He was a good friend. I’m not sure which I felt worse about – his death or the fact that I upset her by asking for him. They set up a scholarship or something in his name but I don’t think it’s active anymore.

Trivia: Only seniors are allowed to have mustaches.

Trivia: According to Esquire’s Everything A Man Should Know About Style you are exactly half as attractive with a mustache.

Abuses of Power

Preface: If you’re afraid of sending your child to a military school for fear of “hazing,” the following tales of silliness are examples of how mild such things are at Howe.

I met Doug Knowlton the first day of my junior year at Howe, after I’d been gone two years. He was walking by my room and saw, in a box, my black leather jacket with the studs on the collar (I’m proud to say I did that myself – Rob Halford of Judas Priest was my style role model then). Doug’s hero was Sid Vicious of the Sex Pistols so he immediately wanted to meet whoever this new guy was with the good taste.

We quickly became best friends but, as best friends sometimes do, we really didn’t like each other sometimes.

Once, he walked into my room either because he was bored or just felt like being a jerk. Let me explain. If an officer walks into a room, everyone has to stand at attention until the officer says “at ease” or “as you were” or “sit down.” Doug was, as I said, my best friend so formalities like this weren’t observed. Except this time, apparently.

It took him a minute to convince me he really was serious that I need to stand up and that he really would write me up if I didn’t. I stood up.

Doug walked back out of the room. I sat down.

He walked back in. And so it began. I stood up, etc. until he was bored of walking in and out of my room.

They say that abused people abuse people.

The following year, there was this kid I kind of took under my wing and mentored and looked after. Until, one day, I was bored and felt like being a jerk. I made him lie in front of my door and told anyone walking in to wipe their feet on the mat. Looking back, that wasn’t very cool and I think that’s in my short list of things I’ve done that I’m ashamed of.

When I moved to Echo Company as an officer, I roomed with my … let’s see, if I was platoon leader, he would have been my … second in command guy … I can’t believe that I don’t remember his name or anyone else’s apparently …

We started off as friends. Very good friends. Eventually, we hated each other. More on that relationship later. During one of our fights, I took a roll of colored tape and divided the room in half. His desk on one side, mine on the other. Unfortunately for him, the bunk beds were on my side.

“You can’t do this!” he yelled.

“I can do whatever I want. I’m an officer – seargant.”

“How am I supposed to get into bed?”

“Jump. From your side of the room into the bed. Dont’ touch my side of the floor when you do it, either.”

“I can’t – I’m in the top bunk!”

Ah, yes, good times. The following are pix of my room in Echo company which I shared with two different people. Eventually, my first roommate (mentioned above) moved out and I got a new one. I think his name was Doug Witherow. I might have spoken to him once since then.

Remember in The Shawshank Redemption when Brooks carves his name into the beam he’ll later hang himself from? There are the names of previous occupants on that beam, too. At Howe, the unspoken, unwritten tradition was to leave your mark in one (or both) of two places: the beams above your bed if you’re in the bottom bunk and/or in the tiny hymnals in chapel. I had the bottom bunk.

This was my desk. Because I was such a rebel against any authority or establishment, I had a USSR flag above it. No one ever mentioned it which really irritated me.

The Land of Milk and Cookies

Camela Krauz. *Heavy sigh* I’m such a stalker – I took this picture with my digital camera … it’s a shot of her class picture in the dining hall.

I simply was not popular enough to even dream of having a chance with her but dream I did. We ate lunch together almost every day – at least toward the end of my senior year. She even wrote me during Basic Training in the Air Force but I haven’t heard from her since. She said I was her favorite runner on the Cross Country team and that I looked like Billy Idol. I think we even ate at McDonald’s after the graduation ceremony (My Mom was also there as were some other female cadets but I don’t remember their names). And I will never forget her. I heard she recently got married. Lucky guy. Not as lucky as I am, of course, being married to Nikki but … speaking of, you know … I think I need to call my wife…

The Force of Nature Called Zoss

If you look at my senior picture, which I will not post, you’ll notice a patch under one of my eyes. It’s Clearasil I used in an attempt to cover up a black eye I’d gotten just the night before. All the cadets in Echo Company were lined up against the walls of the first floor hallway. Nathan Zoss was in the laundry room at one end, I was standing near the side door that exited to Bravo Company at the other. I can’t remember what I said but it was second-hand information about how Zoss was to blame for something. Something totally insignificant. Now, what I need to mention is that Zoss and I were friends. When he caught wind of what I said, he came rushing down the hallway toward me, roaring something and I curled up into a little ball on the floor and covered my head.

This is nothing to be ashamed of. If you knew him, you’d have done the same. He pummeled me for a while until oh, I don’t know, twenty or so people pulled him off me.

I curled up into a little ball because the Rage of Zoss was well-known. A man who had the misfortune of briefly being our biology teacher had a confrontation with him. I can remember at least a couple of us muttering, “Please don’t make Zoss angry.”

Then it happened and as the rest of us scattered, he lifted and threw tables and chairs no human teenage boy should be able to around the room.

The pix of the biology lab are modern. I think they could use a new whiteboard, even if it isn’t on their wishlist.

See also: The Legacy of Nathan Zoss

The Further Adventures of Jay, Doug, and “John”

It was 86/87. Doug Knowlton had graduated and John had been dismissed the year before. Apparently, they hooked up with their girlfriends and drove from either Chicago, IL (where “John” lived) or Muskegon, MI (where Doug lived) to Echo Company (where I lived).

I lived on the bottom floor in the room closest to the side door so it was easy for them to sneak in. Somehow, however, the young T.O. found out and came into my room and freaked out. He was a temporary, interim Lieutenant between grown-up tactical officers and didn’t handle much with any amount of confidence or leadership. His only hope, it seemed, was trying to be “cool” to the cadets. He was the exact opposite of Colonel Trout’s son, Lieutenant Trout, who was T.O. of Lima company in 82/83. Lt. Trout was every bit as fearsome as his father and I can’t tell you how many times I thanked the Lord God Almighty I was in Mica company. He controlled Lima with the iron-fisted discipline of an Israeli military prison.

So, this young Echo Company T.O. didn’t quite know what to do and was so scared of getting in trouble he said, “I don’t care where you go or what you do, just get these girls out of the dorm.” We climbed into the car and drove to the Pizza Hut in Sturgis. This was one of the coolest moments of my entire life, sitting around the table with these guys and girls.

Getting back onto campus and into my dorm wasn’t as easy. I can only assume the vehicle following ours from the moment we came on campus was occupied by Max Taylor, a much more benevolent and nice man than his Harry Potter counterpart, Argus Filch. No matter which way we turned, the driver followed, so we sped up and so he sped up and we turned corners and finally they slowed down so I could jump out of the car and try running into Delta Company.

The door was locked. I was screwed. I jumped behind the shrubs and watched in relief as the maintenance vehicle continued chasing them as they sped off campus. I didn’t get to say goodbye. I ran into the front door of Delta and let my heart slow down before I liesurely strolled out another side door and across campus to Echo as if I’d been in Delta the whole time and had no idea about any car chase that may have just happened.

Huffing At Howe

One evening as I sat at my desk, studying like the young gentleman and scholar I was, Doug Knowlton staggered into my room propping himself up in the doorway and sucking on a sock. I thought he was pretending to be drunk. He could barely stand and … he was sucking on a sock.

I will not tell you what he was inhaling. I will say, though, he convinced me to try it (with my own sock – not his) and the experience was singular and memorable – especially while listening to “The Ghost In You” by the Psychedelic Furs. What’s especially interesting is that, for best results, you had to use a certain type of sock and a certain brand of this product.

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

The next year, someone brought in a different product and it didn’t take long for people to discover it, too, had a mind-altering effect. This one started off pleasantly enough but quickly turned bad. There is no scene in Requiem for a Dream disturbing enough that I could compare it to the horror I couldn’t snap out of for far too long. Nightmarish. And I was one of the lucky ones. At least a couple kids ended up in the hospital and I never found out what happened to them other than something pretty nasty with their lungs.

It was like having a nightmare when I was awake. I really felt I was like The Incredible Shrinking Man and was being sucked into the molecular structure of the door and the doorknob. I kept thinking I was merely a particle in a particle in a particle that was part of a universe that was a particle in another universe and was … so … small. It was the ultimate in paranoia and helplessness.

At a recent gig, I was mounting a poster onto some foam with a spray adhesive. The girl who was helping me turned on the ventilator and pointed to an old filter sitting on the counter. It looked like Magic Rocks but it was all white and sticky. “That’s what your lungs look like if you inhale this stuff,” she said. I thought of those kids 20 years earlier and felt very glad that was my last time doing anything so stupid.

The infirmary now has the poster below in the lobby and I would warn anyone to avoid it. If you think you feel out of control while smoking weed, that’s nothing compared to this idiocy.

I May Be Fat and Balding In 2008, but …

21 years ago … I was quite the stud…

That’s me after receiving the Most Improved Public Speaker medal and the Gold Medal for Best Essay (second year in a row, I might add). Above is me receiving the Bill Hicks Trophy for Forensic Excellence. I also received a medal for being The Senior Who Contributed Most to the Church because I was so spiritual.

Just Say No

Nancy Reagan was still First Lady.

There was a brief period when marijuana use seemed to be pretty rampant but the administration took some serious action and it ended fairly quickly. There were drug tests and dismissals.

Colonel Merritt, the brand-spankin’ new superintendent whose arrival on campus was … seen, heard and felt with a great deal of shock and awe touched every area of our lives. It ended a period of great turmoil and confusion in the life and soul of the campus. His recent death saddened me a great deal. Especially since the schools heart and soul seem to have shriveled and blackened since then.

Eric Colville: THE Hero In Education

Eric Colville recently died. One of the great regrets of my life is never writing him that letter telling him what an incredible teacher and influence in my life he was.

Major Colville was a major in Her Majesty’s army decades before I was born and taught both Latin and English at Howe Military School.

For those of you who were never in his class, I am sorry. For those of you so close that you attended Howe and were so far that you did not get to be in his class(es) … I am deeply, truly sorry.

I can still remember the first day of Latin … “Latin is not a dead language” he began in his thick British accent.

His sense of humor, his dignity, the tears that would well up in his eyes for the students he loved and the compassionate smile he had even for those he couldn’t stand … will always be remembered.

Like Pollack But with Puke

One of the worst headaches I’ve ever had in my life. Someone brought some alcohol into the dorm. I can’t remember who but I remember one of the kids drinking it was this bastard I couldn’t stand. He lived in the room next to me. Actually, I didn’t hate him until like the last day of the school year so I shouldn’t introduce him like that.

Let’s call him Frank. Best thing about Frank – to focus on the positive – is he introduced me to John Truby and his album The Communists Are Coming to Kill Us.

He was one of the kids drinking. I didn’t drink that much but I had one of those headaches that make you wish you had a loaded pistol by your bedside to end your misery. It felt as if my skull had cracked open, my brain had started to leak out, and then my skull snapped shut on my brain. I lay there moaning in agony for God only knows how long.

I couldn’t go to the infirmary. What would I say? The commandant’s wife was the nurse. “Hi, um, I have this killer headache because I had some rum tonight. What? Yes, rum. Yes, in the dorm. Oh – that’s against regulations?” I don’t think that would work.

I don’t think anyone got caught but our Tactical Officer (T.O.) knew something had happened because at the end of the hall was a trash can filled with puked up gummy bears. It was horrible. It was all sticky and foul. The guy I mentioned above had projectile vomited this rancid napalm all over his room wall and had to clean it up before anyone discovered it. That’s the origin of the Pollack reference, in case you were wondering.

First Day, Senior Year

My primary concern was to unpack and relax with my paperback copy of No One Here Gets Out Alive. I was in the early stages of a love affair with Jim Morrison and The Doors.

I was not pleased with being assigned to Delta. Delta was known as the most “military” of the companies at Howe Military School.  I would have much preferred Echo company, thought to be the academic-leaning company. In Echo, beginning my senior year as a private wouldn’t have seemed so dreadful. I’d turned in my stripes toward the end of my junior year in a stunning display of rebellion (I sure showed them!) so, unlike the rest of my class, I was not an officer. In Delta, especially, I was the black sheep of my class.