By GEORGE KECK

Well, looks like they accepted my challenge of publishing a (potentially) weekly column from a long-haired, unapologetically

Patriotic, university-educated, pro-life, militarily supportive, happily married, amusingly opinionated, world-travelled, socially shy, oft-married, musically inclined, Lawton-based, transplanted-Yankee. Where to begin, where to begin? Looks like this is where I insert the obligatory background story. (Cue soft, Pink Floyd instrumental in background).

My family moved to Lawton in the spring of 1964. Having just left our ancestral home in New Castle, Pennsylvania, my Dad, now stationed at Fort Sill, bought us a home in the Sullivan Village housing development East of town. So newly built was the new structure on Southeast Camden Way, it still had a mud yard (newly seeded/sowed). This was no problem for six young-uns. We always learned to “make-do” with whatever new surroundings we found ourselves. Mom wasn’t too pleased with the extra mopping a no-yard scenario generated, but us three older kids always provided a helping hand (under the guise of not wanting Dad to find out we didn’t contribute to the home-front maintenance schedule). Fast-forward to 1969. MacArthur High School opens with grades seven to 10. The idea was us sophomores would become MAC’s first Seniors in 1972. I was one of them. All six of my siblings graduated from Big Mac.

Fast-forward to 1982. I now live in Tidioute, Pa. I’m in my second marriage, I want better for my family. I join the Army at the tender age of 28. After enjoying a 21-year career in the Field Artillery telling the Big Guns when to go “Boom!”, my grand finale is a short trip downrange to a little soirÈe called Operation Iraqi Freedom, Year One, Task Force Bullet II, BBK (Before-Burger-King). The only positive thing I can recall is that every one of my 24 soldiers made it back with all ten fingers and toes. Everything else is still a blur. The survival of my short stint there significantly enhanced my acerbic observational sense of humor and mean-streaked sardonic wit. But I digress.

Fast-forward since 2003. A good woman, fun dogs, and ice-cold PBR helped bring me back from the edge many a time since then. Thus, I am now the happy-go-lucky, lawn-mowing, grounded, smile-inducing, social wag all know me as today. (Too much?)

Hope I’ve met the pre-required intro, as I’m moving on …

Five Retiree Haiku:

Opinions galore.

Too many in the papers

Now, where’s the Comics?

Days turn into nights.

Night turn into days again.

Rats, I’m out of beer!

I wonder what’s on?

Seventy thousand movies,

Meh, nothing to watch!

Mow the lawn by eight.

Have a short nap before lunch.

Check’s in the mailbox!

Cars start up outside.

There go my neighbors to work.

I roll over, fart.

Until next time, “Listen to music you like. Write music you feel. Love the music you play.” – Roadkill, 1991

George Keck is a retired Army Staff Sergeant, drummer, and former Tidioute and Warren resident.