I’m not a “selfie” kind of guy. Today
was an exception. There was a time
when I reported to Vietnam, sitting
around in a GP-Medium tent in Tan
Son Nhut waiting for my in-country
orders. This grunt throws a pair of
jungle boots into a trash can as he
walks by. Knowing that as a linguist
the likelihood of me getting issued
a pair of those was slim to none, I
hopped off my cot and saved them
from the trash heap. They were kind
of worn out, but they fit. The Army
got their money’s worth out of those
boots; I wore them my whole tour.
Same idea with the hat. I got it years
later because it reminded me of
Vietnam. But I never wore it because
I never wore it. I wore it today walking
Thunderbird; first walk since my last
one a while back. My face is still
swollen, I still itch, and my feet still
hurt and are swollen, too. But they fit
into my hiking boots. Surprise, surprise.
So, I said I’m walking today no matter
what with an attitude, so I wore the
hat. Not to worry. The mountain trail
wasn’t crowded during the high heat of
the day, so even though I felt silly few
would notice or identify with the hat.
Still, it bothered me as I enjoyed the
walk. The shortest trail took me about
forty-five minutes. And I didn’t die,
pass out, or need my EPI pen. All is well.
People may look at me funny, but the
hat does keep the sun off my neck. Will
I wear it again? Not sure. “But I never
wore it because I never wore it” still
stands. Out of respect, I doubt I’ll wear
it again. I got carried away. Anyway, that
is how determined I was to walk today.
Coffee may figure in. No coffee pot still.
We had tea with breakfast. Mid-morning
blahs hit. I pulled out ye olde coffee press.
She didn’t like it. Two sips and pitched it.
I loved it and sailed through lunch. I didn’t
feel like walking but I had to! A wedding to
go to next weekend. I’d love to lose twenty
pounds by then. Well, maybe in next few
months. I’ll work on it. But I won’t be
buying jeans until the last minute just in
case I can squeeze into an old pair. If Satan
were here, I’d punch him in the nose; this
year-long sickness thing has got to go.
I refuse to not heal. All is well. She is out.
I better make something for dinner now.
No more coffee today! War movie or sci-fi?
Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)
I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)