Is there anything funnier than tiny cat pants?
It seems unlikely, but my goal in life is to find out.
posted by Aunt B at 2/02/2006 07:56:00 AM
Like Donnell Alexander says, "It's about completing the task of living with enough spontaneity to splurge some of it on bystanders, to share with others working through their own travails a little of your bonus life." But, it's mostly the kind of place that folks looking for "girls and cars" stumble across by accident.
The Butcher--My youngest brother, who lives with me and works as, you guessed it, a butcher. He knows everyone in town.
The Recalcitrant Brother--Our middle brother, who lives in rural Georgia and has a kind of movie star life, if that movie star is Burt Reynolds in Deliverance.
The Reverend--Our Dad, a Methodist minister, perpetually three years from retirement.
Mom--Our Mom. She doesn't get a funny nickname because our mom will not stand for funny nicknames.
Mrs. Wigglebottom--My dog. She's got terrible manners.
The Corporate Shill--Or The Shill, as we call her. My friend from college who was constantly getting me into trouble and going to parties she neglected to tell me about where cute boys would ask her "Where's Aunt B.?"
The Legal Eagle--The Shill's husband.
The Super Genius--She lived next door to me my freshman year of college and we've been friends ever since my first day on the floor.
Miss J.--My first adult friend, meaning the first lasting friendship I made after college. She was my roommate in grad school.
Her Lover--Her Husband.
The Divine Ms. B.--Miss J.'s sister and one of my heroes, because she's brave and funny and mystic and fearless.
JR--My oldest friend. I've known her since I was in the second grade.
Elias--JR's husband and the person who's musical tastes have most strongly affected my own. Oh, how I long to be cooler than him!
The Professor--My closest friend here in Nashville. She's a genius, but she'll never tell you that.
The Man from GM--I've known him since I was 16 and he still hasn't forgiven me for telling him I was a vegetarian when I wasn't.
The Redheaded Kid--No one knows where he comes from or where he goes when he leaves here. I assume he's the Butcher's friend. The Butcher assumes he's mine.
3 Comments:
Shades of "The Dirty Dozen."
I was actually pondering how a military commander in this modern era of mechanized slaughter would decide who to send in first. Do you send your best, hoping to finish things quickly, or do you send the people you'd just as soon get rid of? Even your dubs might score a few hits and tire the enemy a little bit.
Your volunteer military attracts a mix of idealists who really want to make the world a better place and violence afficionados who are hoping to get to cap a few people without risk of prosecution. And I'm sure there are all shades in between, like the poor idiot who was hoping to get away with a few years of KP in return for some college money. The one quality they all need when battle is actually joined is the willingness to take another person's life when ordered to do so.
Simple supply and demand. Remember the stories of the judge saying, "Jail or the Marine Corp".
They could afford to drop that and be more picky when nobody forsaw combat as a reality.
Not being a vet, I can't be sure, but I had always heard that the military broke down more along the 1) Idealists who want to make the world better
2) Seekers of cushy jobs with free room and board, and daycare, and little decision making required.
The cushy job seekers usually go for Civil Service, where combat is far less of a possibility, at least in theory. But the military services are easier to get into when they really need the personnel.
This initiative just gives the working class criminal some opportunity to profit from the war, rather than just the white collar criminals who make bank on it already.
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