Tags: Dead End, DINFOS, trained killers, Ft. Benjamin Harrison, Indiana, Department of Defense, DoD, Army, Navy, bunkmates, homeless, veterans shelter, high school newspaper editor, college newspaper editor, St Mary's University, The Rattler, Mav World, The Gauntlet, Pacific Stars N Stripes, Army journalist, crack, accounting, low plains drifter, muster, intercession, intervention, Century Boulevard, old behaviour, factotum, jarvis, marquisdejolie, Revver, viral video, internet video, Hollywoodland
What are the odds? My new roommate, the one who has the top bunk above me, is a DINFOS Trained Killer, just like me. Not only that, but he went through the Defense Information School at Ft. Benjamin Harrison, Indianapolis, Indiana almost the same time . . . a few minutes (months) after I did.
What are the odds of that? I mean, what are the odds of two men, one in the army, one in the navy, who went to the same Department of Defense journalism school at about the same time in the early 70s, what are the odds of those two guys becoming bunkmates in a homeless veterans' dorm thirty years later?
Bobby was a high school paper editor, just like me. He joined the military and was a military newspaper editor, just like me. He got out and became editor of his college newspaper, just like me. He wrote a book he refuses to shop, just like me.
Where we part company is that he went in to accounting ( fraud investigation ), got hooked on drugs (crack), went to prison and now gets $700 a month from the state for his drug disability. I just became a low plains drifter.
I interceeded for him day before yesterday. Under his drug relapse prevention program, he's not allowed to leave the property by himself. He wanted to go driving, so I went with him. The first thing he did was drive to the red light district on Century Boulevard, looking for crack whores. We played Ho No Ho for a while, but I wouldn't let him stop 'n shop. They take your car away from you now for solicitation. Take it away and keep it.
I finally got Bobby turned around and headed back to the dorm. He made me promise not to tell anyone, promise, promise, promise, then later that night turned himself in for "old behavior." He's got to write a paper now on appropriate verses inappropriate behavior for a recovering drug addict. He thanked me for turning him around on Century Boulevard. Then he beat me in a game of chess ( no one else here had been able to do that ).
See? We're not ALL retards in the homeless veterans shelters.
What are the odds of that? I mean, what are the odds of two men, one in the army, one in the navy, who went to the same Department of Defense journalism school at about the same time in the early 70s, what are the odds of those two guys becoming bunkmates in a homeless veterans' dorm thirty years later?
Bobby was a high school paper editor, just like me. He joined the military and was a military newspaper editor, just like me. He got out and became editor of his college newspaper, just like me. He wrote a book he refuses to shop, just like me.
Where we part company is that he went in to accounting ( fraud investigation ), got hooked on drugs (crack), went to prison and now gets $700 a month from the state for his drug disability. I just became a low plains drifter.
I interceeded for him day before yesterday. Under his drug relapse prevention program, he's not allowed to leave the property by himself. He wanted to go driving, so I went with him. The first thing he did was drive to the red light district on Century Boulevard, looking for crack whores. We played Ho No Ho for a while, but I wouldn't let him stop 'n shop. They take your car away from you now for solicitation. Take it away and keep it.
I finally got Bobby turned around and headed back to the dorm. He made me promise not to tell anyone, promise, promise, promise, then later that night turned himself in for "old behavior." He's got to write a paper now on appropriate verses inappropriate behavior for a recovering drug addict. He thanked me for turning him around on Century Boulevard. Then he beat me in a game of chess ( no one else here had been able to do that ).
See? We're not ALL retards in the homeless veterans shelters.
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