I never had much of an attention span. I could focus just long enough to half-ass my way through whatever I was supposed to be doing.

It was sublime sitting on top of the 557 armored carrier after being up all night, watching the sky go from black to dark blue to a reddish-pink. I remember turning to my buddy and saying, as much for him as for myself, “If you remember nothing else about our time together, remember this.”

Not wanting to really get in trouble, I slid out the lock long enough to swing open the hasp, and opened the door a jar. It wasn’t as important for me to lock him in his office as it was for him to know this scenario was a real possibility.

Considering how I really didn’t like being in the Army, but I signed my name and committed to 48 months of active duty and would see my time out honorably, it was always going to be a hard no on the reenlistment.

I’m a 7th grader in junior high school, trying to fit in by blending in.

There are a couple of ways to look at everything I did to cut down on the amount of time I spent on upkeep and cleaning of my room. Either I was lazy, or highly efficient. I’d like to think I was the latter, but there were so many things I did in the Army that in the course of simply doing my job, I expended great amounts of energy doing. Being lazy when you could was an earned privilege.

Today, I’m navigating the uncharted territory of middle school girls.

Now, back catalog episode 20, “Hey, Girls!” And episode 21, “And so it begins.”

Let’s catch up. It’s 1985. I’m in the Army stationed at Fort Knox, Kentucky. One Saturday, me and my buddies go out. Questionable decisions are made, leading to criminal behavior. Which lands us in the Jefferson County jail, where we spend most of a Sunday before being handed a laundry list of offenses and being released back out into the wild. We’re now back at my car. While we have full bellies courtesy of some day old donuts, my car is running on fumes and we collectively have exactly a dollar seven.

USA’s Bicentennial in 1976 was all anyone was talking about since early 1975. It was going to be one spectacular birthday party that would take months to celebrate properly. The marketing and branding for that July 4th was inescapable. Everything was red, white, and blue. Even things that probably shouldn’t have been. Like a lot of clothing, and wigs not worn by clowns.

We’ve just traded our civilian clothes for a jail onesie and are working our way through the system.