BLOTTED OUT; eradicated

BLOTTED OUT: def. obliterated, erased as if never, eradicated..." 

In 1959, I read a school text on health and proper living. It spoke of honesty, dependability, cleanliness, politeness. Responsibility. I was 9. It was in Hawaii. These books were for our health class. I saw it as a way to change into a better person. Or a better 9 yr old. I wanted to slip into the book and be one of the smiling,healthy people.  I was deeply mesmerized by the life the book people lived, being good...doing chores....being polite, watching foods, exercise-- and being the kind of person that was a great kid, and on his way to an approved adulthood, fully healthy and approved. Intoxicating. 

That Monday, I ironed my shirt and khakis. I ate my breakfast, as indicated was the responsible thing to do. I resolved to pattern every aspect of my life after this book. The first chapter. I tried to make myself look like the little boy in the picture. I imagined what he acted and sounded like, and emulated his demeanor. I walked through the kitchen way, brandishing, perhaps discretely, my new personality. No one noticed, or--if they did, they said nothing. They had many other things to do. I was in a hurry to get to my friends, so I could be this new person and have it validated, somehow. 

Walking to school, along the fence line, between Wheeler a Air Force Base and Schoffield Army Barracks, the air was shattered with the roar of tanks, in formation. The huge, incredibly loud, track vehicles, roared monstrously in a din, down the highway. Huge, gun turrets, men in helmets. Crushing noise. Endless, like a passing, never ending freight train. They had mysterious markings, numbers. And we walked to school barefoot, as was the custom. My metamorphosis seemed dwarfed and evaporated with the receding noise. I read the book again. I tried to get the feelings back, but they were just gone. I squeezed and thought and tried really hard. But it was just a page to two, in a worn schoolbook, and the kid wasn't like me at all.