Let's take it easy. Life come with so many complications-we do not need to look for more than we already encounter. It may be in our nature to complicate simple matters, but as I said, I believe that we are here to learn.

I often think of great things to blog about away from the computer, and forget them in front of the blank screen. Last night, I recalled events when I was twenty that seem worth remembering. I had already been in the Navy for a couple of years, stationed at North Island, San Diego. It was during the Viet Nam Era-the war that the government tried to deny, calling the debacle a "Police Action"-but, that's another blog.

I had gone to Boot Camp in Bainbridge, Maryland...(All the stories that are coming to me right now-it is hard to believe that I so often suffer writer's block so often-other blogs, indeed). The Navy decided to move the Boot Camp elsewhere, and for awhile, the supply of enlisted females waned, thus women in their "A" schools were few and far between. I had been assigned "on-the-job" training for communications, but for reasons I won't go into, I was denied a Top Secret clearance, and as I had no love for that job, I asked to transfer to the Hospital Corp. Again, I had to work on-the-job to prove my worthiness, and was eventually granted an assignment to Great Lakes, Illinois.

When I arrived at the base for check-in, I remember the Petty Officer in charge taking my records and saying, "So you're the one."

"The one what?" I asked.

"The one female in a class of 72 males," was the answer-a concept that had never occurred to me. There were no females coming straight out of Boot Camp, and no other females that had been in the field had been accepted to this class. One might say I was the only game in town, but that might give one the wrong impression.

I was early for my first class. I sat in front of the classroom in defiance of what I figured to be the opposition. As the other sailors filed in, goofing off and horsing around, I realized that many of their antics were being performed for my benefit. It was the nature of the young beasts, and I (as was in my nature) was in the midst of quietly enjoying their show, when the Master Chief entered, and all horseplay ceased.

He paced around the podium and met my eyes several times, while doling out the standard welcome, outlining the expectations of the future months of schooling. Then, he ordered me to leave the room.

"There's a bench out in the hallway, Seaman Webber, he said, "I want you to go and have a seat on that bench and close the door as you leave."

I still recall being mad at myself for choosing to sit in the front of the classroom, as now, I had to walk past 72 guys, with all eyes on me to leave the room. Walking the length of that room, I can still feel my awkward gait, knowing that I was less than graceful. That awkward feeling has plagued me all of my life-for no good reason at all, always making things harder than they have to be.

Sitting on the bench as ordered, I notice that I was very alone, with no superiors to keep an eye on me. Temptation got the better of me, and not for the last time, I was grateful that it did. Before I even knew what I was doing, I was at the closed door, holding my breath, listening to Master Chief as he was yelling at my classmates...

"...she is your little sister! You will not make a pass at her, you will not date her!" he bellowed. " I will hold each and every one of you responsible for her well being. If she gets drunk at he Enlisted Men's Club, you will escort her back to her barracks in your most gentlemanly, honorable, big brother manner, You will come to her defense should any other sailor try to make time with her while she is sober or while she is drunk! I will hold each and every one responsible for her conduct, and each and every one of you will answer to me should she have any trouble with any men whatsoever!"

I believed him. Mostly, so did they.

Only 58 of us graduated from that class. I came across a graduation picture of us recently, and unsuccessfully tried to throw it away. It is a large picture that does nor fit into a photo album.

There is sweet Orlando, a kind Cajun from New Orleans, who kept his big brother persona long after Hospital Corps School. An infectious smile, a caring soul, every time I saw him after the school, he would call me his "little sister." He wrote to me long after school. He really loved me like a big brother should. Our paths crossed again, and he picked up right where we left off-I never left the Enlisted Men's Club without him seeing me safely home. Even when I wanted Orlando to allow me to pursue a drunken relationship, he would rescue me from myself. Out mutual friend, J.B. recently phoned me to tell me that some one had run a stop sign and slammed into Orlando on his beloved Harley Davidson. Losing him like that broke my heart in no way no romance ever had.

There's Richard-talk about making things harder than they have to be... I used to tease Richard that we were destined to live together in sin. Instant Karma came back and bit me on the ass when we ended assigned to the same tech school, and ultimate orders to the Bay Area in Northern California. At each assignment, Richard would tease me back that I was denying our destinies by rebuffing his expectations and advancements.

Drama from Dave, Flea, and Wayne that I'd like to forget, but as I am here to for a reason, at least I hope to have learned from them. Thirty years down the line, and I am not yet ready to pitch the picture. I did learn from that time of my life...hopefully, I have learned something from all the times of my weird and wonderful life.