My disgrace: Preamble

All the pictures in this post are of the USS Shiloh (CG-67). This is the boat I was assigned to while in the Navy.

I have told this story a thousand times so I figured I would finally write it down. This is the story of how exactly I got the boot from the military. I will do a little catch up for those of you who didn't even know I was in the military.

Preamble:

I joined the Navy September 17th, 1997. I joined for one very specific reason; to save myself. After high school I was a very lazy boy. I didn't want a job. I was pissed off a lot. I couldn't afford to go to college so I just pissed around and did a lot of nothing. I had several jobs that all sucked and that I always left prematurely. I didn't really like work you see (nothing changed there, I still don't like having to work!). My parents, not knowing what else to do, finally gave me the boot from the familial manse. I hopped around between abandoned apartments, friends living rooms, and anywhere else I could find to sleep. There were a few nights when yes, I actually did sleep on the streets.

I hated my life and I knew I was on a path to an early death or prison. I was a wreck and even when I did get jobs I couldn't keep them. My life seemed to be stuck in a bad after school special. My parents would let me come back for spans of time after I would cry and tug at every one of my Mom's heart strings. But these were usually short lived because once I got back into the house I would sit around and do nothing. I faked it well though. I told my dad that I had a job at a store in the mall and when he came home from his morning route I would either hide in the garage or run out saying I was on my way to work. In actuality I would go to the mall and sneak into the theater and watch all the movies two or three times, or until enough time had passed that I could pretend that I had worked a full day. Told you, pathetic.


Well they always caught on eventually. After a couple years of this cycle I finally got that I needed to do something drastic or it would be too late. I was in a very ugly downward spiral that would not end well for me. I started seriously thinking about what I could do. I couldn't hold down a job, my parents were always on the verge of kicking me out, and that was when it came to me. Shortly before my 22nd birthday I went down to the Navy recruiters office and signed my name on the dotted line. That night was a very intense night in the house. Both Mom and Chuck thought it was one of the worst things I had ever done. Mom couldn't get it out of her head that gay people die in the military at the hands of their shipmates (it didn't help that some made for tv movie about that very thing had just been on tv). Chuck thought it was a bad idea because he didn't think I could handle it, and he too, didn't want to see me hurt or even killed. Remember my parents are hippies, my Mom's response when I told her was "I knew I should have listed you as a conscientious objector when I had the chance".

Well, I went anyway. And there are a lot of fantastic stories, a lot of great port visits, some amazing people and some horrible times that I could tell you about. But the one story that beats all the others, and the one I use to dissuade people from joining the military is about how I got kicked out. And just for those of you who think it was because I am a total MO, you are wrong.