I earned my right to complain, and I just cashed in on it.

What have you done to make the country any better?

I went to Lowes the other day to get a some threaded rod and while I was there I was muttering quietly to myself as I mentally and somewhat orally figured out the project. I'll admit it, sometimes I think a project out loud.

Some youngster looked at me like I was half nuts, which I guess is OK.

"Old men sometimes think out loud," I said to him, answering his unspoken question.

"I hope I never get old like that," he replied.

"The 40th Street bridge has a low enough rail to climb over," I suggested, dryly. "Jump. That's one way of avoiding old age."

The woman with him giggled.

He went into a huff and said that all old people do is complain.

I turned and faced him. I know the type. All mouth and no beef. "I've earned my right to complain," I said, evenly.

"Oh yeah? What did you do?" he asked in a snotty tone.

"I served in the United States Army," I replied. "What have you done?"

"Er...Well I'm.. I'm not the military type," he answered.

"I can understand that," I said, reasonably. "There are quite a lot of people that are not cut out for military service. Perhaps you were a Vista volunteer or spent time in the Peace Corps. Maybe you were a candy striper at some hospital or dropped in to help out at the airport USO. There are a lot of things to be done out there. What did you do?"

"I...er, I..."

"Perhaps you were involved as a leader in a scouting program, coached Little League, something of that nature. Certainly you must have done something." I said. "Have you done anything for your country? The Commonwealth? Your community? Let's make this simple. What have you done for anyone else but yourself?"

He said nothing. I could tell he was frustrated because he had nothing to fall back on.

"After you do something for someone else, come talk to me, Sonny," I said. My tone was not unkind.

"Yeah, well..." he stammered. His tone was threatening. I know an empty bluster when I hear it.

"Well, nothing," I said in a calm tone. 'Settle down. I still remember a few of the tricks I learned in the army."

"Like what," asked his sweetie in a very wary tone.

"For one thing, you kill the women and children first," I said, cheerfully. "That simplifies things. It turns the area into one big free-fire zone. Then you can kill anything that moves except for kitty cats. I don't like to see kitty cats getting hurt." My smile was nothing less than totally charming. My tone was entirely unthreatening. I had turned on the charm.

She turned red and the two of them walked off in a huff.

As they left, my thoughts returned to basic training. I remembered the time I was hauled into the drill sergeant's office. He wanted to meet every single recruit and talk to them for a few minutes.

I recall him asking me why I joined the army.

I remember teling him that the reason was that when I became an old man and wanted to complain that I figured that three years in the army would give me the right. He seemed floored.

"You joined the army to be able to complain?" he asked.

"No, Drill Sergeant. I joined the army so that when someone asks me what I did to earn the RIGHT to complain I can tell them that I served in the United States Army."

The drill sergeant stared at me for several seconds as he let what I said sink in a bit. He looked at me hard.

"Outstanding!" he said.

After all these years my service has paid off.





my other blog is: http://officerpiccolo.blogspot.com/ http://piccolosbutler.blogspot.com/