Peace Comes To Iraq

A U.S. Marine squad was marching north of Fallujah when they came upon an Iraqi terrorist, badly injured and unconscious. On the opposite side of the road was an American Marine in a similar but less serious state. The Marine was conscious and alert and as first aid was given to both men, the squad leader asked the injured Marine what had happened.


The Marine reported, "I was heavily armed and moving north along the highway here, and coming south was a heavily armed insurgent." We saw each other and both took cover in the ditches along the road.
I yelled to him that Saddam Hussein was a miserable, lowlife scum bag who got what he deserved.
He yelled back that Barrack Obama is a dumb, good-for-nothing, left wing, weak, liberal faggot.
So I said that Osama Bin Ladin dresses and acts like a frigid, mean-spirited lesbian!
He retaliated by yelling, "Oh yeah? Well, so does Hillary Clinton!"



"And, there we were, in the middle of the road, shaking hands, when a truck hit us."

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Are you listening, Drs. Schrader and Kitzhaber?  "Representatives" Wu, Blumenauer, and de Fazio?  Senator Wyden?   I thought not.

hat tip: jog

Shari 1946-2010

My high school sweetheart died last Thursday in Mexico:  "complications" after radical cancer surgery. She did not live to see 65.

I met her when I was 12, working in a popcorn-and-sno-cone truck at Grant Park.  She thought I was too flirty, and never gave me a second thought until we shared a study hall time as sophomores, passing notes back and forth about her troublesome latest boyfriend:  I considered him to be a thug and far beneath her dignity.  Time proved that opinion to be correct when he was arrested and incarcerated, and, somehow, our passed notes morphed into a dating relationship as sophomores to "going steady" as juniors.  I asked her to marry me (at 16, mind you) and set the date as June 19th, 1966.

But her parents moved to Nevada soon thereafter, absolutely and irreparably shattering my heart : I thought she was gone from me forever.  We wrote one another constantly.  She invited me to visit that summer, and I rode the bus a thousand miles to be with her for a week, sleeping in her brother's bunk bed.  I hated leaving, but, at last I again had hope for "us."

I was the one who could not stand the separation, the loneliness.  I started dating other girls, all mere stand-ins, few memorable.  None lasted longer than a couple of weeks.  Then, suddenly, she was there at my doorstep!!  I cannot express the joy!  But, alas, again her family moved away, leaving us back to mere writings.  I caved:  foolishly, I asked her to return my "pin," the symbol of a steady girlfriend.  Tearfully, she acquiesced.  I dated furiously, vainly trying to mask my heartbreak.  All of it was empty, all of it a waste of time.  No one else mattered.

Then, on the first day at college, she was there!!  The same dorm complex, the same dining area, the same "rec room," the same laundry room.  She bravely, sweetly asked if we could start anew together.  Oh, how I wanted to, but I had been far too faithless, I had gone too far astray, I had broken every vow.  I was not worthy of her. Fool that I was, I said simply: "No."
And I watched her heart break as she turned away.

Soon, too soon, I married the wrong woman:  thirteen years of torment followed, culminating in a painful, ugly divorce, but for which I now thank God.  My sweetheart-become-dear-friend also married, also divorced, and she flew to Mexico to begin a new life.  We had rejoiced at each others' children, we had sent Christmas and birthday cards, but we rarely saw one another.  Once, and I don't remember when, we had dinner together as she passed through town:  we walked the halls of our old school together, we visited her old home, we laughed and hugged and shared one sweet, tender kiss at the end of the evening.  Then, she was gone from me, again.

Eventually, I married a truly beautiful woman, whom I dearly love, twenty-five years ago.
At first, she was jealous of my "pen-pal."  Until they met. Those two hit it off like two long-separated sisters, often excluding me from their conversations and shared giggles.  They even have remarkably similar names, as if twins separated at birth.

So, through marriages, children, divorces, lovers, successes, and failures, we stayed in touch:  always gently loving each other, but always apart.  She always forgave me for my pig-headedness.  But I never got to tell her goodbye, and so I write this eulogy:

She was always more loving, more forgiving, more caring than any of us knew.  She will always be treasured inside my heart in that special place reserved for first love:  that innocent, tender, child-like affection which vanishes like dew in the morning sun.  May she truly be at peace at last, safe in God's loving hands.
And perhaps God will be kind to me and let me be her next-door-neighbor in heaven.

I'd like that.