...And You Thought Your Final Exams Were Tough
This morning I was sitting among a scruffy group of G-8 protestors at my favorite coffeeshop in Savannah. Most morning we manage to entertain ourselves with dark and sometimes humorous commentary on the morning news while taking up the corner two tables of the coffeeshop. This morning we were busy listening to the college students around us drinking coffee and complaining about their final exams.
What an earnest bunch of young people they are! Dressed all in black with their laptops and notebooks they possessed such long sad faces for ones so young!
I was standing by the counter ordering expresso when a very pretty young lady walked into the shop. The early morning coffee drinkers and students suddenly looked up from their laptops and newspapers and stared at what they believed had the very real potential to be a bad situation. The young lady in question had close cropped hair and was decked out in full Army combat fatigues.
Her combat boots were laced and shiny and her black beret on her head was tilted at jaunty angle.
And oh yeah - she was heading right towards me.....
I might as well have had a tattoo carved on my forehead that said "G-8 Summit protestor" because I had on my "FU*K Bush" teeshirt.
As she got closer I could hear the air leaving the room as the expectation arose among the customers.
Was Bodhi gonna spit on her and call her a "baby killer'?
Was she gonna call him on his teeshirt disrespecting her Commander and Chief?
Instead... I gave her a warm smile.
"Nice camouflage," I said complementing her on her olive green.
"Thank you," she smiled, "I like yours too."
I looked down and realized I had on my Swiss Army cammo pants!!
We stood there for a minute comparing camouflage and agreeing about the pocket layout and comfort. She told me she like the olive green over the desert style and I agreed that the olive was real "old skool" but the desert had a certain flare as well.
We were two warriors fighting on different sides here - her in the Military and me in the street fighting army of the night, but today we were discussing Army "fashion" and smiling at one another.
After she ordered her coffee she invited me come sit at her table. We sat and talked about everything it seemed, except the one subject everyone in the coffeeshop expected us to be discussing.
The War.
This awful fucking War.
The 8,000 pound elephant in the room.
Instead we just chatted about life. I mention how the young folks around us were cramming for their final exams and she told me she had a very important exam coming up herself. She is in OT.
Officer's Training.
She's trying to become an officer because her life may depend of her placement in the Army when she travels overseas to Iraq. I realized then that her future wasn't looking too good. The prospects terrifying. I could imagine the stress she felt taking her final exam.
I saw in my mind a long line of flag draped coffins filled with young men and women who only wanted to obtain a college degree or learn computer skills.
Young kids.
The ones who flunked their Army exams and received the shit duty in downtown Bagdad.
It seemed strange to me sitting there talking to her that if she blew this exam she could be coming home from Iraq in a box.
She asked me if I was going to be participating in the upcoming G-8 Summit demonstration. I told I would and detailed the opposition from 20,000 riot cops we were expecting. She paused and then said something so beautiful.
She said,"Be careful."
My throat choked up and tears welted in my eyes as I saw the concern in her eyes.
Be careful?
Me?
As she got up to leave I said a silent prayer that she passes her exams with flying colors.
(((( Yea!! ))))
That she spends the rest of this fucking war in "China Beach" so far from the fucking insanity and violence of conflict that she would come home to loved ones whole and healthy.
Final Exams.
I guess we're all taking our Final Exams today.
What an earnest bunch of young people they are! Dressed all in black with their laptops and notebooks they possessed such long sad faces for ones so young!
I was standing by the counter ordering expresso when a very pretty young lady walked into the shop. The early morning coffee drinkers and students suddenly looked up from their laptops and newspapers and stared at what they believed had the very real potential to be a bad situation. The young lady in question had close cropped hair and was decked out in full Army combat fatigues.
Her combat boots were laced and shiny and her black beret on her head was tilted at jaunty angle.
And oh yeah - she was heading right towards me.....
I might as well have had a tattoo carved on my forehead that said "G-8 Summit protestor" because I had on my "FU*K Bush" teeshirt.
As she got closer I could hear the air leaving the room as the expectation arose among the customers.
Was Bodhi gonna spit on her and call her a "baby killer'?
Was she gonna call him on his teeshirt disrespecting her Commander and Chief?
Instead... I gave her a warm smile.
"Nice camouflage," I said complementing her on her olive green.
"Thank you," she smiled, "I like yours too."
I looked down and realized I had on my Swiss Army cammo pants!!
We stood there for a minute comparing camouflage and agreeing about the pocket layout and comfort. She told me she like the olive green over the desert style and I agreed that the olive was real "old skool" but the desert had a certain flare as well.
We were two warriors fighting on different sides here - her in the Military and me in the street fighting army of the night, but today we were discussing Army "fashion" and smiling at one another.
After she ordered her coffee she invited me come sit at her table. We sat and talked about everything it seemed, except the one subject everyone in the coffeeshop expected us to be discussing.
The War.
This awful fucking War.
The 8,000 pound elephant in the room.
Instead we just chatted about life. I mention how the young folks around us were cramming for their final exams and she told me she had a very important exam coming up herself. She is in OT.
Officer's Training.
She's trying to become an officer because her life may depend of her placement in the Army when she travels overseas to Iraq. I realized then that her future wasn't looking too good. The prospects terrifying. I could imagine the stress she felt taking her final exam.
I saw in my mind a long line of flag draped coffins filled with young men and women who only wanted to obtain a college degree or learn computer skills.
Young kids.
The ones who flunked their Army exams and received the shit duty in downtown Bagdad.
It seemed strange to me sitting there talking to her that if she blew this exam she could be coming home from Iraq in a box.
She asked me if I was going to be participating in the upcoming G-8 Summit demonstration. I told I would and detailed the opposition from 20,000 riot cops we were expecting. She paused and then said something so beautiful.
She said,"Be careful."
My throat choked up and tears welted in my eyes as I saw the concern in her eyes.
Be careful?
Me?
As she got up to leave I said a silent prayer that she passes her exams with flying colors.
(((( Yea!! ))))
That she spends the rest of this fucking war in "China Beach" so far from the fucking insanity and violence of conflict that she would come home to loved ones whole and healthy.
Final Exams.
I guess we're all taking our Final Exams today.
posted by Unknown at 21.3.05
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