It was 1976 and we were on our way to Guam again for another 2 years. It counted as sea duty so instead of being away from the family my mom and dad opted to go to Guam instead of being seperated.

When we first landed on the 32 mile long by 12 mile wide island it was hot and humid. We stayed in a hotel there. We were swimming under the pool and got to wrestling. My father jumped in and held me under the water way too long. I thought he was trying to drown me. I came up screaming and swinging at him. What really pissed him off though was the fact that I embarrased him in front of other people by my accusations. Whether they were true or not I will never know.

Guam was a beautiful place to live. Green foliage of various types. I remember one in particular. I don't remember the real name but we all called it sleeping grass because when you touched it it closed up instantly and when it closed it became very prickly. It was the wierdest plant I had ever seen other than the movies of Venus Flytrapps and Orchids in school. There were tanks from the war that were rusting deep in the jungle. Thousands of rounds of ammunition from WW2 could be found in the rocks and stewn upon the reefs underwater. There were undground rivers and lakes of pristine fresh water with wierd blind creatures in them including fish, shrimp and bats. Fruit bats were a delicacy there too. The navy guys would put on a Boonie Stomp where they would show you rare parts of the island that few poeple knew about with waterfalls and rivers of fresh water.

It was in Guam where my father and I started SCUBA diving together. I was 14 at the time. The reefs were beautiful and abundant with both deadly and harmless creatures. Once I was snorkeling on the Slidre which was a ship that had been smashed upon the reef at Gabgab Bay. I had reached down to grab the what was left of the ships phone and something swam out from under my hand. The rock I had placed my hand on was the deadly Stonefish, fortuneately for me I was not stung or else I would not be writing this blog ~chuckles~ We also had lionfish, Hammerhead Sharks, and Cone Shells. I had a very expensive shell collection with some very rare species like the Conus Geographis. One of the nasty parts of the ocean was a certain coral called Fire Coral which was actually millions of small stinging creatures that made the bulk of it up. It was beautiful but extremely painful which I found out the hard way on a few occasions while trying to avoid it.

It was also on Guam where I learned to do drugs. The native islanders were not very nice in the school system and had a day they called Kill Holly Day. This was a day for all Guamanian(which the Japanese made sure no men survived on the island) warriors to beat the crap out of white people. It was at this time that I realized my mother and father could care less about my welfare when they would send me to school on that day ~sighs~ Although I got some shit on Holly Day most the Guamanians liked me because I was tough and would play football with them and fight back so after a while they got tired of getting hit back and became friendly. I think the real reason I started drugs is because I was a social reject because I wore my retarded cousins hand me down clothes and my parent would never buy nice stuff so we could fit in, but I did find a group of people who didn't care about looks. All you needed was a skateboard, some tunes and some allowance money to throw in. At the marine barracks they had vending machines with canned beer in them for 25 cents a pop. We would gather our money together and someone would keep an eye out for officers while we put our allowance money into the machines and got bags full of beer. We would then go down to the ditch or the half-pipe and get drunk while riding our skateboards.

The first time I got drunk I died of alcohol poisoning from drinking 1/5th of Vodka and part of a 1/5th of Cuttysark. Last thing I remember was my friends who were drunk spitting in my hair and giving me wedgies. Mark Perry who was a very small guy somehow drug me home where the next door neighbor Vivan informed my mom that I was drunk. As they gurnied me into triage I remember them asking me if I had taken drugs with my alcohol. I remember I tried to tell them I was not stupid ~laughs~ and everything was blurry and distorted. Then in a split second everything was black with white outlines. It was calm and clear unlike seconds before. I remember a warm commanding voice telling me it was time to come home. Then I saw a glimpse of the future where my little brother and mother were grieving and I told the voice I didn't want to come home yet and next thing I knew everything was blurry and distorted and I passed out. A day later I woke up with my father standing over me telling me I was stupid. No compassion or thought to how I was mentally or spiritually. I did learn though that there is something more out there beyond the subconscious.

My brother, I and some of our friends would sneak out in the middle of the night and go shoot pool in the marine barracks until some stupid officer came in and ran us out. We would start huge bonfires in the middle of the streets to keep the Shore Patrol occupied ~snickers~ In the military housing before they installed storm windows everyone had loovers made of aluminum, at night we would go around when every one was asleep and beat on them and scare the crap out of people. That was good clean fun! It was on Guam that I had my first black girlfriend her name was Penny and she was sweet as brown sugar. You can bet I took a lot of crap over that one from friends.

It was in Guam where marines and sailors would pull over for a day or two. And it was at this time that I was introduced to marijuana and hashish by the military men who would smoke it with us kids. I loved being high because I didn't have to think about being the child that was adopted (they told my mom and dad they never had kids but then after adopting me they had my brother) or wearing crappy clothes, or deal with the fact that my mom and dad apparently didn't give a crap about me or my emotions. I became rebellious at this time and started skipping school. The ideal of not having to deal with reality was a lot better than dealing with it too me, because too me my life was crap and I lived in a cold hard world.

There was a nuclear submarine base on Guam so every once in a while the sirens would go off and we would think it was the end of the world. Guam is a #1 target for destruction because of it's relavence and position in the pacific theater. B-52's would fly overhead all the time with thier destructive payloads. For all I knew the end of the world was coming tomorrow so why even try.

My dream was to be a Naval Fighter Pilot but I had to wear glasses and my father told me that I could never be one then so with my dream shattered and my cold life drugs became the answer.