a days's work
I've been meeting all these people off the street while I'm on my gardening or flower watering patrol. This week I met two Vietnam veterans.
I was with the group of suburbanites and merchants pulling weeds and turning soil when I met the first man, Carl. The super gargening lady brought him over because he said he wanted to help. He made funny little music noises under his breath. He touched things like his hands were new, like a toddler he enjoyed the fresh sensations as he crumpled the dirt between his fingers.
Then he took the shovel from my hands and lifted it up horizontal. It made me nervous. I braced myself for the worse and Carl started playing air guitar on the shovel, swaying his hips asking "Y'all know Keith Richards man, Mick, Y'all know crazy Mick?" and so Carl was a big hit with all the sulky young gardeners who were only there because someone agreed to give them some undisclosed amount of money.
The next day I was on my usual plant watering route. I'd stopped at a Sunoco to make use of their watering spout and smoke a cigarette or two. A skinny old man in short shorts and sunglasses started up a conversation with me. Jimmy was his name. He told me he was in Vietnam and I told him "Yeah my dad was drafted but he was injured in training so he never had to go overseas." Then Jimmy started in on war stories.
The bright sun shone down on us while he told me of the perfect trap they had made for the Viet Kong. The perfect trap, he said, and then out of no where came the bagpipers playing loud and proud. The Viet Kong killed every one of those bagpipers. There were no rules in that war. They killed them bagpipers and Jimmy had to get his men out of there. The perfect trap foiled. Now when Jimmy is flipping through channels and sees a bagpiper he goes straight back in time to the massacre of the bagpipers who ruined his perfect death trap.
The good news is there are lots young soldiers coming home from Iraq who could be destined for the same future as Carl and Jimmy.
I was with the group of suburbanites and merchants pulling weeds and turning soil when I met the first man, Carl. The super gargening lady brought him over because he said he wanted to help. He made funny little music noises under his breath. He touched things like his hands were new, like a toddler he enjoyed the fresh sensations as he crumpled the dirt between his fingers.
Then he took the shovel from my hands and lifted it up horizontal. It made me nervous. I braced myself for the worse and Carl started playing air guitar on the shovel, swaying his hips asking "Y'all know Keith Richards man, Mick, Y'all know crazy Mick?" and so Carl was a big hit with all the sulky young gardeners who were only there because someone agreed to give them some undisclosed amount of money.
The next day I was on my usual plant watering route. I'd stopped at a Sunoco to make use of their watering spout and smoke a cigarette or two. A skinny old man in short shorts and sunglasses started up a conversation with me. Jimmy was his name. He told me he was in Vietnam and I told him "Yeah my dad was drafted but he was injured in training so he never had to go overseas." Then Jimmy started in on war stories.
The bright sun shone down on us while he told me of the perfect trap they had made for the Viet Kong. The perfect trap, he said, and then out of no where came the bagpipers playing loud and proud. The Viet Kong killed every one of those bagpipers. There were no rules in that war. They killed them bagpipers and Jimmy had to get his men out of there. The perfect trap foiled. Now when Jimmy is flipping through channels and sees a bagpiper he goes straight back in time to the massacre of the bagpipers who ruined his perfect death trap.
The good news is there are lots young soldiers coming home from Iraq who could be destined for the same future as Carl and Jimmy.