Read Proud Highway:Saga of a Desperate Southern Gentleman for Free Online Page B

better explain my newest and most successful venture. In a resounding and incredible triumph over regulations and first sergeants, I managed to effect a transfer to the Information Services career field. More specifically, I am now Sports Editor of the
Command Courier,
the official voice of Eglin AFB. 2 Now you know, and I know, that I’ve never written a word for a newspaper of any sort. And you know that it’s ridiculous to even speak of any experience on my part, as far as layout or page arrangement goes. In short, we both know that I’m no more qualified for a post like this than I am for the presidency of a theological seminary; but there is one major fact that makes it possible for me to hold this job: the people who hired me didn’t bother to check any too closely on my journalistic background. I’ve managed to keep them in safe ignorance for about a month now, by nodding my head knowingly at any mention of a term which sounds journalistic, and using a few simple ones on occasion, whenever it seems comparatively safe. Just out of mild curiosity, I’d like you to look over the sports page of this edition and send me an opinion of some sort. I’m afraid to ask anyone around here, and I seem to remember that you know something about this type of thing. With the advent of the latest issue (sports), I think I’m pretty well entrenched around here, but I still think that it would be best that I don’t make any display of my total lack of tangible knowledge on the subject, lest they become fearful of what might happen when my luck runs out.
    Although I think I now have the best deal I could possibly have in the Air Force, acting the part of the experienced, competent journalist day after day has been quite a strain on my nervous system. I now tip the scales at a vastly reduced 168 pounds and I look rather silly when I attempt to wear the pants which fit me last spring. I had to give up cigarettes when my daily consumption topped the 3-pack-a-day mark, and I now smoke about two packs of tobacco per day, via the pipe route. Also, without the slightest exaggeration, I drink approximately 20 cups of coffee every 24 hours and manage to sleep about 5 hours a night. Of course, it goes without saying that I’m jumpy as a cat and am extremely unpleasant and sarcastic most of the time. I’ve developed an arrogant and forbidding attitude, which keepsmost of the numbwits away from me. Naturally, as I am sports editor of the base paper, most people know who I am, but very few of them care to talk to me; which is fine. I’ll save my social intercourse for Tallahassee and live like a hermit during the week.
    Life down here is so damnably different than anything I’ve ever experienced. During the week, I might as well be on a ship at sea. We can only pick up radio broadcasts from the immediate area, and the only contact with the outside world is through the eyes of the Mobile, Birmingham, Jacksonville and Pensacola papers, which I scour avidly each day. I’ve been drunk only once; in Panama City at an orgy which beat all I’ve ever seen. Believe it or not, I have yet to enter a bar in the state of Florida. The sum total of my alcoholic consumption could be purchased for under $5.00. Dates are plentiful at Florida State U. in Tallahassee, and I spend most of my time there on weekends. It’s about 160 miles from here to Tall., but I’ve come to consider it no distance at all. By the same token, I’d think nothing at all of thumbing the 250 miles from here to New Orleans to see Ike 3 at Tulane. He wanted me to come over this weekend, but my poverty stricken condition prevented such an undertaking. However, I intend to make the trip as soon as possible. I had a slight misunderstanding with my pretty friend in Tall, last weekend and I saw fit to forgo the unpleasantness of going over there and dragging her out of her sorority house and off to a secluded spot. Now however, the