Once a Brat

Name:
Location: Fort Worth, Texas, United States

Mother of 3, grandmother of 3. Compulsive writer. Single, not especially "looking."

Friday, April 27, 2007

Today's Virtual Blog stop 4/27/07

....is in Big Sky Country, Montana! Recently, Barbara Williamson-Wood, a member of our online writers group, The Writer's Life, pulled up stakes in Florida and went all the way to where her heart was calling her, the mountains of Montana. We all respected and envied her courage, and we are happy for her, now that she is where she belongs.

Today, she is interviewing me on her blog: http://360.yahoo.com/lakotahwriter/
about my book, Once a Brat, where she asks really insightful questions about my life as an army brat.

Barbara is a published author herself. After you have finished reading her blog, (be sure to read all her posts; she is a prolific blogger) follow her links to her own book, Inner Trappings.

Thursday, April 26, 2007

My Blog Stop for Today 4/26/07

....is at Linda Rucker's blog site: http://www.readingrucker.blogspot.com/
where she asks me some very insightful questions about my life as an Army Brat in the years following WWII, described in my book, Once a Brat.

Linda is a prolific writer and blogger, and we share an affinity for badly-written science fiction movies, generally shown on Saturdays on the Sci-Fi Channel. We will, someday when we both have a little time, co-write The World's Worst Sci-Fi Movie and make a zillion bucks off it. So far, it's just a germ hatching in our brains (how's that for a sci-fi plot line?) but we'll get there.

In the meantime, read Linda's Dark Ridge, which will enthrall you and make you want to read more. After you read her interview with me, read the earlier posts. She's articulate and prolific, and I'm happy to call her a friend.

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Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Memories of Childhood

Every once in a while, I will read about a subject from another Military Brat that I had entirely forgotten about. It's been a life-long experience, learning why I do the things I do, and how I feel about many things in this world. I was never so glad to see two things in my life as the Golden Gate Bridge as our ship from Korea passed under it; I had lived in Korea for 18 months as a 3rd and 4th grader, and I missed ice cream! We just didn't have that many luxuries there, so the minute I saw the Golden Gate Bridge, I knew what I wanted the first thing when we debarked -- An ice cream cone. And I got it. And it had never tasted better.

The second sight that is emblazoned in my childhood memory is that of The Statue of Liberty as yet another ship brought me back to the States in 1952. I thought, "Now I know how the immigrants must have felt when they saw that statue." I was home.

And as an adult, a strange feeling unrelated to the US Army life I had led, was in Honolulu, when we took a short boat ride out to Pearl Harbor. Out in the open seas, there was a naval vessel approaching, and their men were standing at parade rest as the ship brought them to dry land -- to home, at least for a while. And, I bawled like a baby at that sight. Why? I wondered. I'm not a Navy Junior. But that sight tugged at my heartstrings so much that I could no longer contain the emotion.

And finally, on 9/11, and its aftermath of Super Patriotism Displayed, I was somewhat bemused by this sudden public welling of loving our country. I had always felt that way. Trust me, when you live in a foreign country and then return, you really fall in love with your birthplace all over again. Good or bad, right or wrong, we mostly get it good, and right. And if we disagree, well, welcome to your opinion. I certainly won't attack you for a difference of opinion, unless of course, you do something utterly senseless like burn the flag, stamp on it,or spit on it. The hooligans who do such actions, I notice, are usually those who would do well to serve our country in uniform, where they would learn to love their flag, rather than dishonor it. And every once in a while, I hear even an Army Brat defending such actions, stating, "it's their right to do that," and I want to whack them good and proper. Not in my Army Brat world, I want to yell.
Sometimes we lean over backward to accommodate what some people believe is granted to us in the US Constitution. It's kind of like, "The right to bear arms." I'm sure the framers of the Constitution connected that concept with the then prevailing custom of everyone being subject to enlisting in a well-armed militia, and for defending his dwelling from invaders such as wayward Indians.
But I may be wrong. I quite often am.
And this morning I turned the corner to reach my street after coming back from Wally-World, and noticed a sign on the vacant lot on the corner....Future Home of Full Gospel International Tabernacle.
My heart sank. First, I thought of the traffic this would bring to my quiet neighborhood, even though as I type this, jets from the military base are buzzing overhead.
Second, I wondered what kind of church this would be? It's not Baptist or Methodist, or any of the prevailing Southern religions. As a child, I had become accustomed to going to Chapel Protestant Services -- A Methodist listening to a sermon by a Southern Baptist in an Army compound overseas. Can't get much more ecumenical than that.
I hope not. And I just have to say it -- I just hope and pray they're not snake-handlers.
Okay, so now I'm not only a brat, but a bigot. Maybe not. Maybe just afraid of snakes, okay?

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Monday, April 23, 2007

Today's Virtual Blog stop 4/23/07

My book, Once a Brat, is at this very moment being reviewed by Jamieson Wolf and he is planning on giving me one heck of a sparking review a bit later in the week. (Wasn't this our deal, Jamieson? Did my check clear the bank yet? )

No kidding, he has already set up my interview on his blogsite, www.jamiesonwolf.blogspot.com/ and he has some insightful questions about my military brat memoirs and actually brought up some more memories than what I put in the book.

Jamieson is one of the busiest writers I know, maintaining several blog sites and will soon have a book released by eTreasurers: The Ghost Mirror. Go on over to his blog site of the same name and find out more about it: www.theghostmirror.blogspot.com/

We both belong to Dorothy Thompson's The Writers Life yahoo group, and he keeps us all running to catch up with him. I asked him once how he did it all, and did he ever sleep? True to his nature, he responded, "The Wolf Never Sleeps."

Enjoy!

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Today's Virtual Blog stop 4/23/07

My book, Once a Brat, is at this very moment being reviewed by Jamieson Wolf and he is planning on giving me one heck of a sparking review a bit later in the week. (Wasn't this our deal, Jamieson? Did my check clear the bank yet? )

No kidding, he has already set up my interview on his blogsite, www.jamiesonwolf.blogspot.com/ and he has some insightful questions about my military brat memoirs and actually brought up some more memories than what I put in the book.

Jamieson is one of the busiest writers I know, maintaining several blog sites and will soon have a book released by eTreasurers: The Ghost Mirror. Go on over to his blog site of the same name and find out more about it: www.theghostmirror.blogspot.com/

We both belong to Dorothy Thompson's The Writers Life yahoo group, and he keeps us all running to catch up with him. I asked him once how he did it all, and did he ever sleep? True to his nature, he responded, "The Wolf Never Sleeps."

Enjoy!

Sunday, April 22, 2007

It Never Ceases to Amaze Me....

that I meet Military Brats every day, and I think, aha! That's why I took an instant liking to this person. Recently on our writers Yahoo group, I discovered one of our members was a Navy brat, but I chastized him and told him we were taught to call them Navy Juniors.

Memories come flooding back, some good, some not so good. Doing a blog tour with other writers has been therapy for me, as some memories surfaced that I had long ago buried. I was particularly reminded of the incident when we were posted to Seoul, Korea, where I was traumatized by the actions of one of my drunk "Uncles" -- one of my dad's friends, who came home in a rage from the Officers Club while I was baby sitting his smaller children -- not much younger than myself, I might add.

He came in the back door, drunk and staggering, and demanding to know where was the gun? I had no idea where the gun was, and at age 9, I didn't want any part of trying to find it. Somehow, while he was preoccupied by tearing up the kitchen, I found the gun hidden in the linen closet. I picked it up gingerly and hid it under the baby's crib mattress, knowing he wouldn't disturb the baby, no matter how loud and angry he became.

My father arrived, worried about the man's conduct, and afraid he might harm me, too. His wife followed next, crying and wringing her hands, and he turned the dining room table over on her. Then the moment the man saw my dad, he immediately started pummeling him. When Dad had a chance, he grabbed a heavy dining room chair and hit him over the head with it. Out cold.

All this time, I was cowering behind an overstuffed chair, screaming my head off. This wasn't supposed to happen, I remember thinking. This is a friend of Dad's and look how he's acting. And I was also afraid for myself, too, and tried not to scream or make any noise lest he find my hiding place, but my primitive instinct outweighed my common sense, and I continued to cry for help.

And help arrived in the form of Military Police. Dad gave a statement, Mom arrived and took me home and put me to bed, where I continued to shake for hours, unable to sleep. She held my hand until dawn, when I finally drifted off to sleep from sheer exhaustion.

I didn't put that incident in my book. I didn't want to relive that horrific event, and even now, I have made sure that the man's name is not mentioned, for fear of his family thinking I'm "ratting him out." But you know, drinking was a part of being in the armed forces. It was a "good old boy's club" but at the same time, officers were expected to drink like gentlemen. Unfortunately, the force of the alcohol took over after the third or fourth drink, and they ceased being Officers and Gentlemen. Just falling down drunks.

I understand that today's Army is vastly different in this respect. Help is available on post, and if any member of the armed forces is found to be drinking to excess and/or abusing his family, retribution is swift and long-lasting. Thank God for that.

Pat Conroy and I came from that former tradition. His father was a raging alcoholic, and this colored the author's writing. Perhaps that's one reason I like his books so much, not only because they read like poetry, but I can feel the same feelings he went through in his childhood, on a much larger scale.

There is some good that comes out of facing this.

I know now why I'm afraid of drunks. I have yet to consider anybody who is under the influence of alcohol as funny, and laugh at their antics. I keep a wide berth around anybody who even hints of having had one too many. And I certainly don't drink, myself.

I know many people have had more horrendous experiences than this one I described, and I can't imagine how they got through their lives with active alcoholics in the home. Just his one incident long ago in a far-away country marked my life for many years. Going to Al-Anon meetings certainly helped me feel those long ago fears and exorcise them. Certainly there are many who read this who would benefit from attending Adult Children of Alcoholics groups, too.

So now another skeleton in my closet has been rattled. Who knows what may pop up next?

Whatever it is, I know I can handle it.

I'm an Army Brat.

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Thursday, April 19, 2007

My Blog Stop for Today 4/19/07

Today I will be interviewed on Sandy Lender's site http://www.todaythedragonwins.blogspot.com
about my book, title above.

Sandy is a member of our Yahoo The Writers Life group and she is phenomenal in her writings. I could never write fantasy (or at least I think I couldn't) but she sets the benchmark for that genre.

So after you read her interview with me, keep going and see why she's successful in her chosen genre.