Pottsie's 80s Weblog

Why are you so stuck in the 80s?

This is a question asked of me recently. Of course I feigned indignity and asked very smartly 'What?" "Well, dude, you do a radio show called the Retro Lunch Show, which plays 80s music, you have a website that promotes that show and the 80s, you have a friggen' blog about the 80s, and you have pictures posted of you in the 80s. I'd say you're stuck in the 80s, in fact I'd go so far as to say you're obsessed!" Obsessed? Me? PUHHHHLEASE. Like O'MGod, I'm so totally not obsesed with the 80s, Gag Me with a spoon.

Really I can see how someone might actually think I am obsessed, stuck in a decade that ended nearly 20 years ago now-but trust me I do have a life and it even touches todays culture every once in awhile LOL. Really, I listen to todays music and am really into alot of it. I don't sit in front of my TV with only DVDs of 80s shows and 80s movies and watch them all the time (although, now that I think of it, that's not a bad idea, an 80s lost weekend.hmmmmm) I do live in reality.

I think I like to remember the 80s for lots of reasons-I was young is a pretty good reason. Getting away with things that I couldn't even try now without risk of serious bodily injury.  It was pretty much a worry free time for me. I was in the Army, sure we had the possability of war, but we were young remember, we didn't care, if we went we went-luckily it never happened. So Uncle Sam was caring for me, and I was spending all my money on the things that again, if I was doing them today I'd risk serious bodily injury. I like to remember the 80s because it's the time I went from child to man...ok ok...I know I'm still a child but physically I grew up. I graduated High School in the 80s , travelled Europe, and found my carreer, the one I'm still doing all in the 80s.

The people I met, the lives that touched me and lives that I touched. The women I fell in love with, the friends I made. Some I actually keep in touch with and some I have no clue where they are. I miss them all and would love to hear from them.

The music of the 80s was so much fun, you couldn't beat the New Wave scene, hey I professed to HATE disco when I was High School, even writing DISCO SUCKS on my notebooks, but, don't tell anyone but I like Disco now, in fact Disco Doesn't suck-it's fun to revisit it, and of course the music brings back memories. We can all hear a song and have specific memories brought back. We can close our eyes and be back to a time when we were young and not worried about serious bodily injury.

Lessons Learned

This blog entry has nothing to do with the 80s, it has to do with LIFE-a friend of mine Joel Allen Platfoot passed away last week from injuries due to a car accident. Joel was a classic rocker and known on the Internet as Rock God. I write an article for WebcastersUnited.com and I want to share with you something I wrote over there in honor of my friend Joel. First a little about Joel and then what I wrote.

IN LOVING MEMORY
JOEL ALLEN PLATFOOT
1963-2006

CO-FOUNDER OF
WEBCASTERSUNITED.COM
and FOUNDER OF
GENERATIONROCKRADIO.COM
GENERATIONWEBSERVICES.COM
and friend to 1000s

JOEL ALLEN PLATFOOT was a man of many many talents - Webcaster, PHP Master, Web Designer, DJ, musician, great great friend, loving husband and father, and just an all around amazingly great guy. Joel's best talent - making everyone feel welcome.

Feb 8th, 2006, Joel was hit head-on by a young driver going way too fast on a slippery road. Joel was airlifted to a hospital in Indiana where for the next few weeks he fought hard and was winning the battle to keep his legs. He was moved to the next phase of his rehabilitation, in Kentucky, and couldn't wait to get on with the therapy that would make him walk again. On February 24th, 2006 Joel succumbed to complications which occurred with his blood pressure as a result of the accident.

Joel will be sorely missed by everyone here at webcastersunited.com. Please take a moment to read the obituary posted by his family, and please help out his Wife and children.
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Lessons Learned

Sitting down thinking of something witty to write about this month is down right impossible. Last month I chose to write about the problems with certain individuals in our community-that wasn't exactly funny reading-and this week with the passing of Joel, one of the people that article was meant to defend-it all seems so trivial. It's always amazing how we can find lessons in the death of others, and how their lives can teach us so much about ours.

Joel's death has left all of us bereft, making us spring to action, offer our services and to "do what we can" to help out. Why aren't any of us doing this stuff before death pays a visit. Oh I'm just as guilty, but it's a thought that haunts me always.

A few years back my Sister-In-Law, a woman I loved deeply was taken from us at 44 years of age by Breast Cancer. She left behind 2 young children, a husband and a family that misses her terribly. When she was first diagnosed with Breast Cancer the family was shocked but No One thought it would be fatal. We put up a call to arms, and decided to march against Breast Cancer. What a shame it had to take my Sister-In-Law's diagnoses for us to get involved with the cause, or any cause for that matter. Again, myself included. Kathy passed away, and we continued to walk yearly in her name, but it's not enough. Many times we do something because it helps us to some how feel better about ourselves, not too often concerned with how it will benefit someone else. I'm not saying in all cases, but sometimes when tradgedy strikes we need to do something immediately to feel better, but often times, the cause fades, our committment erodes, and we are back to the same routine of waiting for something else to jolt us in to action.

9-11 is another great example. I was involved heavily in 9-11, having worked the recovery site as a Police Officer and a volunteer handing out food to other Police Officers and Fire Fighters. I was also the lead investigator for the deaths of 4 of the residents from our town. So when bodies were recovered or identifications were made I made the notifications. It was amazing the sudden out pouring from the nation. The indignant stand of "How Dare they" and the "waving of Old Glory" from every street corner. Where are those flags now? Where is that Patriotism? It was the American Crisis all over again, "THESE are the times that try men's souls." I'm not trying to turn this article into a political debate, I'm simply trying to point out lessons learned.

With Joel's passing, I heard many people step up to the plate and offer assistance, and it is beautiful to watch a community come together to aid in a time of crisis, but as with what was stated above "THESE are the times that try men's souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman." Reverse it, and consider the time that we don't have a crisis as our crisis, who will stand for the good fight and be there when everything appears hunky dory. Who will be there to offer their hand to someone who seeking help and advice, we all say we will, but only a few really ever do. Joel was one of those that stood and fought the good fight. He WAS there always not just in the Sunshine, but during the crisis. Joel was a ROCK who never shrank away from what really mattered. In Joel's own words from his last rant "It is time to move forward, it’s time to move on, it’s time to look into the future of the new WU. Let’s all get along and learn from one another. Let’s help when help is needed, listen when someone needs listening to and most of all let’s relax and enjoy what we all love to do…..webcasting!"

I felt the need to hug my kids a little tighter and tell them again how much I loved them-What a shame that we need a death to be reminded that we should NEVER take our lives or the lives of those we love for granted. We should be hugging our children tighter every day and telling them and our spouses or significant others I LOVE YOU everyday and mean it when we say it.

I went to a Father Daughter dance on Saturday, the day after Joel passed away, I felt a wave of emotion well up in me each and every time I slowed danced with my 9 year old daughter. I looked into her eyes and she could see the tears welling up in mine, and with all the wisdom a beautiful 9 year old girl can muster, she said "Don't cry Daddy, everything is all right." The emotions came out and I hugged her and kissed her head, and said "Yes Sweetheart, everything is all right."

Thank You Joel, for another lesson learned. God Bless You and Rest In Peace Rock God!

 

 

French Kissing In The USA

High School...GULP! 9th grade was sort of terrifying...I was really awkward not having yet mastered walking in the huge feet I acquired over the summer, in fact, I distinctly recall falling FLAT on my face as I got off the bus at school the very first day...uggghhh.

Now I would describe myself as neutral, I wasn't a "Burnout" (the kids that smoked and dressed in ACDC and Led Zeppelin shirts with a flannel shirt over it) and I wasn't a "Preppy" (No Izod shirts for me). I was a blue jean wearing button down shirt kind of guy. I had friends on both sides of the fence. But I wasn't partaking in the burnout lifestyle, yet I seem to attract the Burnout girls. In particular Ann Marie..she was in one of my classes, I think it was Social Studies

You know how that whole thing works, "Hey man, Ann Marie thinks you're cute." "She does?" "Yeah, do you like her?" "Well, what did she say exactly?" "Dude, she said she likes you!" "Really? Well Yeah I guess I like her." I guess I like her?” What the hell kind of answer was that? Let me be honest here, I didn't really care that much for Ann Marie (Ann if you're reading this SORRY) but I'm 15 years old-HORMONES-they are screaming at me to get some female companionship YESTERDAY.

I had no clue what I was getting into and neither did poor old Ann Marie. Remember the extent of my experience in girls was kissing Penny at the playground, French Kissing hadn't yet entered my vocabulary, of if it had I had no clue how to or when to...Damn! There is way too much confusion in this growing up stuff.

So I asked Ann Marie "Out" no not on a date...when you asked someone out you are going "Steady" STEADY? Holy Crap, what have my hormones gotten me into now? I can't even remember where or how I asked her, I think there was the old standard exchange of notes in school (I don't have hers, but you guys are not gonna believe this I have MANY MANY notes that I exchanged in high school with various people, SICK I know and I'll share them here eventually, why I kept them I'll never know. I had them and I left for the Army only a couple of months after graduating High School so they got tucked away in the attic.)...any way I'm sure when I asked I was a blubbering idiot.

So our first date was at the Roller Skating Rink, where I was establishing myself as Pottsie's brother-allow me to elaborate-My Brother Jimmie was two years ahead of me and was Mr. Popular and had a lot of girls digging his scene if you know what I mean. So I had some residual success because of my brother, who happened to work at the skating rink as a floor guard. Thanks Jimmie! I remember showing up at the skating rink with Ann Marie (who I forgot to mention had failed the 9th grade the year before so she was older than me-that's right an older woman!) My brother questioned my choice of girls-now Ann Marie wasn't ugly she just wasn’t overly attractive, she was tall and razor thin, long brown hair, too much make-up, black ACDC T-shirt and a snaggle tooth-hey, I call 'em like I see 'em-Like a Jewel snaggle tooth, not a wicked witch of the West snaggle tooth.

So we skated, held hands, had a snack, drank some soda, skated some more blah blah blah...Suddenly I'm on the far side of the skating rink, Ann Marie is no where to be found and the lights dim, "Ladies Choice"-I think Gino Vanelli was playing (Holy Crap the memory I have). Suddenly from behind I'm pulled towards the benches in the darkest corner of the skating rink, amongst the discarded coats and jackets that were all over the place, I fall back on the bench, my back bangs hard against the wall. Holy Crap I’m getting mugged, I only have $5.00, please don't hit me in the face...MOMMY I'm too young to die...HELP HELP HELP!!!! OH-Ann Marie, hey what's up? I knew it was her the whole time! Suddenly Ann Marie is sitting on my lap...Damn It; there goes that pack of crackers I was saving for later. Now I'm looking into her eyes, briefly and I flash back to Penny on the Monkey Bars. Oh Hey, I'm supposed to kiss her here, my eyes close as I move in. Lips puckered for one of my famous lip lock kisses, what the..??? Is that her tongue? Is she pushing it against my lips? What the hell is she doing-Damn her tongue is strong, some how it is forcing my lips apart, the next thing I know tongues are darting all over the place. Suddenly my tongue had a mind of its own I explored that snaggle tooth, and I even think I cut my tongue on it. AHH HAAAA this is how people kiss for so long without having their minds wander all over the place-what the hell is the ? CIGARETTES? Ewwww Ann Marie had just smoked a cigarette, come on tongue lets go I don't like cigarette smokers...tongue? Tongue? TONGUE?!!!! Let's GO!!!!! Oh great, fine you keep going I'll just wait right here-huhhhhh!!! My tongue stayed there for the entire Ladies Choice, and kept going back for more. Every time the lights dimmed my tongue lead me back to the corner, our corner..Good Job tongue.

This lasted for about a month-noooo not the kiss Ann Marie and I, I think it was mutual, I wasn't experienced enough for her. Ann Marie liked fast cars and faster men (or something like that) and I wasn't into the whole cigarette smoking burnout lifestyle. My children weren't gonna have a burnout for a mom. So it ended awkwardly- we didn't talk, and Ann Marie slowly faded away-like Penny POOOF she was gone. In fact I don't remember seeing Ann Marie after the 9th grade, for all I know she failed again and is still in 9th grade.

So that's my experience on French Kissing-Everyone has their first and that was mine-is French Kissing over rated? My tongue doesn't think so.

Yes the picture above is a picture of my tongue today-they grow up so quickly-as you can see it still has a mindof its own!

More High School Memories Next time!
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Youth of The 80s Series

Well first let me apologize to everyone that will be effected by this series, believe it or not I've maintained some semblance of contact with a few people from my youth. In particular up to a couple of years ago my first love in High School, Terrie, who will play a prominent roll in this series, and I recently was lucky enough to establish contact with one of the GREATEST people I've ever known, someone who was truely a friend Colleen.

My main idea here is to hopefully get some of you to relate to some of those whacky feelings we had as teenagers, so I'm looking for you readers to contribute to this by posting your comments and your rememberences here in this blog.

Now please understand I might be a little different than any of you, ok, alot different. But I am certain there were kids that went through just what I went through, and there were kids much worse off, but my experiences were unique to me. I am not going to trash anyone in here, well, maybe me, but thats it. We'll leave it to say I had a unique set of parents who divorced when I was 12, but were in essence divorced LONG before that. I was witness to some violence and on the receiving end of some...we will leave it at that...God Bless them both for trying their hardest.

So a bit about me so understand my mind set as a teenager, at some point in my youth I got FAT, yeah parents going through divorce, I began to equate food with love or some whacky thing that I'm sure Dr. Phil would tell me today, whatever the reason I spent my pre-teen years fat. I was teased by my brother and sister and by alot of kids and developed a real bad complex. I was very self concious...Hey Don't worry I got over it trust me. I compensated by drawing attention to myself by being a class clown which did earn me some friends but got me in trouble in school early on. So somewhere around my 13th birthday my Mom couldn't handle my brother and I and I was shipped off to live with my Dad. A whole different world there, BUT, of course I hit puberty and started to get taller and grow into my fat. The summer between 8th grade and 9th grade was like I was hit with a transformer wand. I shot up in height, my body was finally in proportion with my weight, I got contact lenses, and psssttt I think girls were starting to check me out. WHOA!

Now I had a couple of "Girlfriends" before that, Penny V. comes to mind (no last names to protect the innocent, or those that wish in no way to be directly connected to me). The summer between 8th and 9th grade was the summer of Penny. I use to ride my bike to her house, we'd have a glass of something, soda, iced tea, or lemonaid, and then ride our bikes to the playground at the elementary school by her house. There we explored Kissing (ok giggles are allowed). When I tell you I had NO CLUE I mean I had NO CLUE. I didn't know the first thing about French Kissing, but I know it felt kind of awkward just pressing lips together for along time, but she didn't know much either because thats all we did...DAMN IT I was Naive! I know what you're thinking...and the answer is hell no, if I didn't know the first thing about french kissing what makes you think I'd even know how to cop-a-feel..whoa is me!!!!

So I spent the better part of the month of July kissing Penny and then I was sent to Texas-forgot to mention that didn't I. My Mom decided I should go visit my sister who had got married the summer before and was currently stationed in Texas with her husband who was in the Army. Talking about slamming the brakes!!! Any chance I had to finally figure out french kissing or even French Canadian Kissing (whatever that is) came to a screeching halt! While Texas was nice it was FREAKING HOT in August MOM! Thanks alot! So this is where apparently I grew, something in the water in Texas because I got tall and walked into 9th grade taller but Penniless. Yeah I don't know what happened between Penny and I, I got a few letters from her when I was in Texas, but she must have found some guy that knew had to French kiss and off she went.

So, 9th grade arrives, my first year in High School, the great exploration YEs Ladies and Gentlemen I learned how to French Kiss in 9th grade...that my friends is in our next installment.

Shock Treatment

Ok so everyone wanted me to finish the Army story-I've made you wait long enough-and now the rest of the story.

SO if you remember back in June (WOW it was that long ago) I was telling you about leaving the reception station (the picture you see here was actually taken at the reception Station, look how happy we were-all that was about to change I'm the one in the middle with the big Buggles Glasses)...so we run off the bus with our dufflebags strapped to the front of us. Sgt. Bell told us to get off the bus but he never told us where to go. Dude, that just ain't right, we had NO CLUE-sooo we just ran, in all directions. It looked like a cockroach party when someone flips on the light. Some got it right and ran in the right direction, unfortunately I wasn't one of them, which means I just had to run further to where I was going. We eventually wound up in front of our barracks in a crude formation.

Sgt. Bell met us there, only this time he wasn't smiling. After telling us that we made him ill and want to vomit, not his exact words I'm keeping this clean, he told us to get out of his face and fall in on Sgt. Mims. Who??? Where?? Exactly! Sgt. Mims was waiting for us about 300 yards away. So Off we trotted to meet the wonderful Sgt. Mims. Funny thing is Sgt. Mims didn't much care for us, nope not one bit because he too got ill from being around us and so he sent us back to Sgt. Bell. Now we all know Sgt. Bell has already told us we made him ill, whatever are we going to do. So another trot to Sgt. Bell, who said we were Sgt. Mims problem and sent us back. Can't anyone make up their mind in the Army? After a good hour of the run around, and yes I mean that literally, Sgt. Bell was no longer ill being around us, and we got to stay and visit with him for awhile.

Ahh good old Sgt. Bell, here was a man that was so eager to please us that he was going to introduce us to all his Drill Sargeant buddies-what a NICE GUY. As we stood at attention on that VERY HOT Alabama Day I heard something that sounded like a car crash. A door burst open and I swear I was looking at a Circus Clown car where all the clowns keep coming out of a car-only these weren't clowns, they weren't coming out of a car and I wasn't eating Cotton Candy. How did that many people fit in one room it was a Drill Sgt. Frenzy! They looked like Great Whites going after baby seals (or whatever it is Great Whites eat). Yelling and screaming, asking us to please don't look at them ( Stop Eye F***ING Me is what I believe they said) Gosh such language! This is when we were advised of our favorite poem to recite whenever we were required to exercise at the Drill Sgts request, in other words whenever we were dropped for push-ups by the Drill Sgt., which was ummm lets see ALWAYS) "Drill Sgt. Thank You For This Opportunity To Condition My Mind And My Body-Drill Sgt. Please Feel Free To Do So At Anytime-Drill Sgt. Private (state your name) Requests Permission To Recover!" Wasn't that nice of them to teach us a beautiful poetic verse such as that. It moved me so much that I can still recall it to this day.

So we spent the better part of the next 4 hours running, doing puch-ups, getting yelled at, doing more push-ups, some more running, peeing in our pants, getting yelled at, running, push-ups and oh before I forget MORE RUNNING!

23 people did not make it out of that first day, they just flat out quit, they took them away and we never saw them again (kinda scary) and by the end of the first week we had lost 45 people-through injuries, begging to get out, and at some point in Basic we had a few go AWOL.

Now as I post future things here you'll hear all about my Army life and the fun I had.

Starting with my next post we we delve into my recently found journals..ohhhhhhh

I Am Back...I Think

You know sometimes life can just sneak up on you from behind, quickly put it's hand over your mouth and pull you into a dark van and hold you for ransom. It seems that way to me, no matter what I tried to do I just couldn't find the time or motivation to continue posting in here. Things were happening, times were changing, I was wrapped up in everything else that was taking place that this Blog was taking a back seat-hell I don't even think many people even read this thing, but in reality I don't even care. This was/is a place for me to put my memories and observations down in black and white. For anyone who happens to stumble across it to see, but more importantly for me to see. Consistency was never a strong point of mine, but I think I need to be determined to make this blog what I originally intended it to be. A nostalgic look back at what I still believe is the best decade ever, and certainly the best decade of my life (I'm talking Decade not events, certainly the birth of my children are the greatest things to ever happen to me)

I will eventually get back to and finish the Army story because it needs to be finished, but I recently came across some old journals of mine, ok diaries, that I kept while in High School up until I left for the Army (MY God I was such a sad sack) and several attempts at keeping journal's while I was in the Army, these are very sporadic at best, however, it really gave me a glimpse at what I was feeling back then. I was able to take a real hard look into the mind of a teenager who was trying to figure life out and trying to figure girls out (I haven't figured either out yet) and I actually want to share some of that stuff here. I was a poem writing fool back then too...so I'll share those here.

I'm sure I'm setting myself up for embarrassment, but anyone who knows me should also know I don't care. I'm fairly well known enough, my show through syndication is heard by well over a million listeners and if I can spark some conversation up with the listeners of my show or people who just stumble in I think that would be great. So over the next several weeks, after I finish my Army story, we're going to go back in time, back on and Incredible Journey into the mind of a very whacky teenager of the early 80s...stick around and be sure to add you comments to these stories.

What The Hell Happened???

Geez...what happened to my blog...I'm sorry it hasn't been updated. I started a new job and all and it was tough to keep up with it...but all that is going to change. I promise to update this blog and continue with my little Basic Training story. I will post up the conclusion of this story by Wednesday night and then let's figure this Blog thingy will be an every-other-day update..sound good? Good!

retro Lunch SHow 99 Segment 1

Segmant 1 of show dedicated to the year 1989

Thank You For This Opportunity To Condition My Mind and Body...

So the time had come to leave the reception station and move along to our basic training barracks. I have to admit I was excited to get my Army training in full swing...I had chosen to become a Military Policeman, so my training was called OSUT One Station Unit Training, that just meant I'd do BAsic Training and MP School in the same spot, not graduate basic and go to another place for training. So I was going to be at Good Ol' Ft. McClellan until February.

So in my enthusiasm top start my Army training I was one of the first people on the bus, which meant I was towards the back of the bus...ummm BIG mistake as I was soon to find out. The bus was PACKED with nervous recruits as we travelled the 10 minutes across base to Bravo Company, 11th Battallion....BRAVO 11 OOOOOO RAHHHHH!!! SOLID AS A ROCK!

The bus rolled up on a fairly nice modern building. Two stories, it almost looked like an apartment building.Hmmmm not bad, nice digs, SWEET!!!! The bus came to a stop and the door opened and in walked Sgt. Bell...imagine Louis Gossett Jr. only real, more intimidating, louder, meaner, nastier, taller and in much better shape. Sgt. Bell stepped on the bus, Smokey Bear HAt and all and rubbed his hands together smiled the ncest smile you could ever imagine and welcomed us to Ft. McClellan as only a Drill Sgt. can. There aren't many things said to you in life that you remember exactly as they were said, I have a few things I can recall verbatim, most have to do with Basic Training, and Sgt. Bell's welcome is no exception. "Good Morning, My name is Sgt. Bell, you had a good home but you left, I am now your Daddy and I own you...you privates have 30 seconds to get the F*** off my bus and form up on Sgt. Mims outside and 291/2 seconds have just gone by...NOW GET THE F*** OFF MY BUS!!!!!"

Didn't I tell you being on the back of the bus was a BIG MISTAKE!!??!! We had to have our Duffle BAgs strapped on our fronts to be able to sit on the bus, and I now used that Duffle BAg as a weapon, it was everyman for himself as I knocked everyone that stood in my way down or to the side just so I would NOT be the last one off that bus. I heard that a private was flattened on that bus, but I never saw proof of it. 

(Damn, gotta run I will continue this later...Shock Treatment is next!!!!)

Memories Continued

So there I was in Newark NJ about to embark on this journey...I got to talking to people there, everyone was off to a different location for Basic Training. Some were flying to California, some to Georgia, etc...everyone was FLYING some where, not me. No Sir, I was handed a train ticket to Anniston Alabama. Newark, NJ to Anniston, Alabama, a trip that was scheduled to take 23 hours...23 HOURS WTF is that Uncle Sam? At least I got a sleeping car. That train stopped at EVERY little podunk stop. I swear at some stops it was a tumble weed and a cow waiting on the platform (wood deck). It was a HELL of a ride but I made it. Beautiful downtown Anniston, Alabama. What the HELL is a Jersey boy doing in this place. It was culture shock to say the least, but I didn't get a chance to enjoy the sceanery because there was a Military Van there to pick me up along with the several other people we had picked up somewhere along the Long Long train ride.

I arrived at the reception station at Ft. McClellan, Alabama on Sept 29th, 1982. I picked a bunk next to Carl Stephens, who quickly became my best friend and would remain so for a very long time (we'll talk about that later). Our first day at the reception station was fairly uneventful. We were marched(if you can call it that) to get our haircuts...ohhh my precious hair. Gone all gone!!!!! We were taken to get our uniforms, they didn't have boots in my size (12 wide) so I had to wear my sneakers (this is signficant aqs I will explain later). Our first night in the reception station at about 2 am the Drill Sgt. comes in screaming and yelling for us to get the hell up. We had to go through our personal belongings to ensure we didn't have any Tylenol because someone had tampered with it and poisoined a bunch of people. The first case of product tampering. The next day was spent teaching us basics of things we'd need to know when we got to our Basic Training (Boot Camp) units. MAking a bed, proper wearing of uniform, etc...everyone at the reception station was so nice. Before I left for the Army I had seen Stripes, hell the Army was gonna be easy. No one yells or anything. My friends I didn't know what yelling was, I was about to find out what FEAR, EXHAUSTION, PANIC, TERROR, and down right EVIL were all about....(to be continued)