The Post That Wrote Itself
“Well, that beats waiting for you to write it,” they whisper. I stand before you sinful and sorrowful, etc., and confess that whenever I felt the urge to write something, I laid down for awhile until it passed. My thanks to the two people, whoever they were, who were going into withdrawal and burrowed into the archives to read 40-some previous posts. You know, I just realized this thing was 2 years old this past February. There’s a moral to that somewhere, surely.
Precious source material was provided by someone you may know as Nick.
We now have a brief intermission while I obtain more apple ale. Yes, I’m on vacation. Aren’t I always? Speaking of which (the apple ale, not the vacation), at Walgreen’s I overheard a cashier and a customer agreeing that Redd’s Apple Ale was nothing but “over-carbonated apple juice.” BLASPHEMY! Although, come to think of it, I am girly when it comes to alcoholic beverages, so perhaps that proves their point.
INTERMISSION MUSIC: “The Way I Am” by Eminem
N E WAY…
Rom was telling me about camping out when he was a Boy Scout, and being taught what to do with, well, what Boy Scouts do in the woods (you know, that thing bears are said to do) (I believe my sister has actually seen one doing it). I said, “You know, I bet they taught Nick some of that stuff in the military.” (Nick puts his face in his hands at the knowledge that his toiletary practices came up in my household discussion.) When asked, Nick thoughtfully (he is nothing if not thoughtful) provided me with a link to the training manual on this very subject. But “Field Sanitation,” as it is called (they have a word for everything!) is SO MUCH MORE than bathroom habits. (They even have “Field Sanitation Teams,” which is probably the most-coveted Boy Scout badge!) Did you know that extremes of weather can be bad for your health? And that you can dress in a way that combats this? It’s all in there. And beware “medically significant arthropods”! Or, as civilians refer to them, bugs and spiders. I think what impressed me most is that the military takes nothing for granted. Hey, you may never have learned how to wash! The most crucial areas are crotch, armpits, and feet, they inform us. I plan to put that knowledge to use right away! Surprisingly, although they go into embarrassing detail on exactly how to wash one’s distinctive male equipment, they say nothing about the female, which, trust me, is at least as complicated.
“But do soldiers…you know…in the woods?” they ask.
Which brings us to the most surprising fact of all. I assumed that, when stationed somewhere without the desirable facilities (or any facilities), they dug holes in the dirt, or sand, as the case may be. Well, they do, if necessary. But the preferred method (the manual was emphatic about this) is to use the plastic bags you are issued. Yes! Our soldiers use poop bags like dogs! Of course, I’m sure Nick’s owner is familiar with this practice, even though he claims he is litter-box trained. Speaking of which, Nick might be mad that I’ve held his beloved military up to mockery, but he is currently crouched growling on a pile of cookies, so we’ll just tiptoe quietly away.
THOUGHT FOR THE DAY
“Being married is like living with your best friend. Who lets you touch her boobs.”
Rom says this is true.