After I became a teen girl, all I knew for sure, was the -one- thing I wanted from life. A close boyfriend who I would eventually marry, of course.
It would never be.
Way far back in those daze, of rockin a Doobie Brothers 8-track in your Chevy Vega, my deficit in social intelligence was only known as,"shy" by those
who were meaning to be nice, and for the rest who didn't care, "wrong" with.
Speaking of wrong with, (for that era), the ufo phenomenon became a big part of my life in my late teens-to-early '20's, when me and a friend were
experiencing sightings during a "flap wave" in that Northern region. My friend had more "issues" than me, though, and so all of that off-ness
combined, incurred us disapproval. Way.
Luckily, an escape hatch! (That I knew of, then.)
In a Cold War era mid sized middle-America town, new restless adults aware of the surrounding economic stagnation, like old rusting steel, (and
personal stagnation/prospects as well) pondered those beckoning glass entryways, to the somewhat unassuming -yet- intriguing, recruitment offices, of
the US Military.
When I was still 20 and a civillian at home, there was this one perfect bright sunny afternoon. Was sitting on a child's swing in the backyard of the
family home, taking in a good hard long look around. Making sure to remember. I had been to the Air Force recruiter's office recently, and agreed to
enlistment.
At a certain date in the future, a large dark blue passenger US Government van, containing other enlisted civillians, a couple recognize from school,
would arrive to the family home and whisk me off to a life initiation that would birth you into how things ARE.
Up to until then, I was having trouble fully sleeping, in the comforting place of, though, childhood's end. Kept having these bad dreams. Was in a
fighter jet flying over a large desert region. All of a sudden, things were going wrong, and a nosedive occurred, straight downward, impacting into a
violent fireball and explosion. "It makes no sense."
Basic Training and Technical School, were those times (and people) in your life, you could never forget, even when you turn 98 years old, if you are
lucky enough. I liken it to some people's wild times in college, but, for those who came from blue collar 'class', and no trust fund, nor academic
notability. Finally, the momentous goal, from those previous efforts, and they were a supreme struggle, indeed. Her first regular base assignment,
as a regular Airman.
In "Tech School", prior to that, I was learning the job for that first regular base. Typing and typing and typing practice, on these, what looked
like manuel typewriters, only long paper tapes of punched holed codes would go through them. Doodled during the boring verbal instruction, and
wondered which boys would come by the ladies' dorm areas that night, and what form of drama would -reliably- ensue.
Fast forward.
I saw, that co workers were getting apartments off-base in this high-desert legendary city of gambling and twenty-four seven civillian tourism
activity and lights lights lights. Which were marveled at, from the descending airliner, coming in from a faraway, gone, coddled, routine. I got an
apartment too, about a mile South of the base. But with the work schedule 'round-the-clock, got assigned the midnight to morning shift. Had never
worked a shift like that, and disasterously, was having trouble awakening from sleep for it, and there was this dark negative effect on the
personality, emotions and attitude. Contributing to this, was a cold atmosphere like social Darwinism, a -shock- from the 'We're all in this together
all the time' required lifestyle, of the previous environment.
I began experiencing the nightmarish crazy dreaming again, just like way back at Mom's.
In this city, there is a bus that comes about once an hour , from town, to the front gate of the base. In the dreams, I am on it. Late at night, and
there are a sparse few other civillians on it, as well. Creepy quiet, everyone sitting still and well behaved, on a 'Final Destination'. Suddenly,
up ahead, located directly in front of the base's main gate, appearing out of the darkness within the headlights of the bus, is this enormous red
brick wall. The bus not slowing down, instead, proceeding full speed. I see the beginning of the impact, then wake up.
My workcenter permeated this gloom. Such a weird place. It had this great black walk in vault, like a bank vault. One time, I was charged with a
quick task in there. Nothing enthralling nor enlightening. And the glass boxes on the walls containing Firemens' axes. In case we were overrun by
enemies, we were to sieze those, and wreck our equipment. I'll bet everyone thought, "We'll tell the Authorities -afterward-, that we feared
encroachement.
There were stacks and stacks of message traffic which had to be relayed out and in. And rubber stamped with classifications. You had 'The Fear Of
God' so-to-speak, to not sit there and study any texts. They were none of our business. But sometimes, I saw 'ufob', but then I thought, "nawwwww."
"It must mean something else!"
Imagine that you are in a roller coaster, which is slowly chugging along, upward, upward, and there is the top of the pinnacle looming and nearing.
Only you are blindfolded, so you don't know that.
edit on 8-9-2011 by simone50m because: edit
