Changes in Latitudes

Great Jimmy Buffet song, but also true.

When I think back to all the different latitudes in which I have dwelled or visited, it did seem to matter how far north or south I lived as to what my attitude was.

For example, I once visited the Philippines Islands (latitude just north of the equator) for a basketball game. I was just bad enough to make the bench in hoops for our high school team. Since there were only two other American high schools in all of England, we filled our athletic schedules out with NATO installations all throughout central Europe and the Philippines. This particular trip would mark the closest I ever got to the equator (so far).

It seemed like all I wanted to do was have sex with girls while we there for a three-day tournament.

So that’s all I did.

I was all-shoot-no dribble but I could play decent defense. My 10-inch vertical leap was more a defiance of gravity than an actual leap.

It wasn’t intentional, by any means, but I basically got all the fringe benefits of being on the team and all the travel included without breaking a sweat. I also earned a  letter jacket for Cross-country after I tore a hamstring on the first day of practice for the football team. You can read about that fiasco in one of my earlier blogs.

I don’t need no stinking jacket!

Wrong-o.

Got plenty of mileage wearing that letter jacket, especially off-base.

The local British girls thought that the maroon and white “H” letter jackets signified some sort of “super” athlete. I always knew I was a darling of the ladies since age six, but this was ridiculous. I think it might have given me some false sense of confidence, because, despite my advanced years, I still have it.

When we returned to England (latitude 55N) all I wanted to do was have sex with girls all the time. So there was really no difference in attitude there.

When Charles de Gaulle booted out NATO forces, it ended my quest to pollenate as many French flowers I could manage. That’s when we went first to Germany (latitude 50) for only a few short weeks before we were sent to England. But not before I was able to consummate a crush I had on our Sponsor’s daughter, Britta.

The highest latitude I ever visited was Anchorage, Alaska (65N). It was just after the big earthquake in 1964 which left us with the bumpiest landing ever. You could see (and feel) where there were huge cracks filled with tar and oozing when we passed over them to the end of the runway.

I remember being herded into a little makeshift passenger area (I hesitate to call it a terminal of any sort). There was our family and three other people.

A man, woman, and the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I probably could not physically do anything about it, but I am sure it is all that was on my mind.

Latitude Shmatitude.

Stay well.

Published by maddogg09

I am an unmotivated genius with an extreme love for anything that moves the emotional needles of our lives.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: