Standing in the doorway and watching them, I had listened long enough to learn that our next two stops would be Illinois and Idaho. My dad was part of the original teaching cadre for setting up nuclear power plants around the country. By the time he retired, I would have been enrolled in sixteen different schools. I was a sophomore then, and we stayed put until I graduated. It was a novel experience.
I resented some of the moves, enjoyed others. I loved being on the road, but hated being the new kid on the block. I got along better in some places than others, loved the rural areas better than the towns.
I had a flashback this week to that little kid sitting on the bed. I can remember so clearly sitting there thinking, "We're going to move to Illinois, and then Idaho, and I'm going to remember sitting here on this bed. I'm going to remember sitting here thinking about this for a long time, because I don't want to go."
This week John came in and said that he's needed for some testing operations at a missile base in California during May and again in July. I suddenly remembered that little kid sitting on the bed.
"Excuse me. We have invited company for the HAM festival at Estes Park the end of May. Remember?"
"Well, I'll try to get them to finish by the middle of May."
Dream on, John. This is the military we're talking about. My dad used to call it the A&W. To him that stood for Ask and Wait. In some ways I'm still the little kid sitting on the bed. I could, of course, voice my opinion, but I'd get the same blank stare my father would have given me.