daily scratchpad

(4)

My ass-hole father would supply the folks on Offutt AFB with yet another reason to get rid of me. He mailed me a typewritten copy of a manuscript, asking that I read it and give him my comments. What a nerve! The son of a bitch had abandoned us and failed to pay child support and we had ended up in the orphanage and now he wanted my evaluation of his stupid book?! Sheeeit.

The title of the book was, 'The Black Seed.' It was about a special type of cotton seed. The novel was an historical novel of the Charleston area back in the Civil War era. I found it competent but not exactly thrilling. It was not my kind of reading. I wrote him a letter concerning my impression of the book. The letter amounted to 'faint praise.' I did not mail back the manuscript.

Some weeks or months later I received a telephone call from some colonel who advised me that my father had called SAC Headquarters and complained that I had neglected to return his manuscript and would the Air Force see to it that I did so. Yeeesh. I think the son of a bitch got drunk one night and, infuriated by my lack of enthusiasm for his stupid book, called general Powers, who bucked the job down to said colonel. I mailed back the manuscript.

It is impossible to say that these two incidents had any bearing on my reassignment, of course, but before long I had orders to pack my bags and head to Goose Bay, Labrador - sans family - for an eighteen month tour. I, in turn, assigned Kootch and the kids to an eighteen month tour of duty in Japan. This is their passport photo.