Wednesday, February 27, 2013

dumb old dad and a dockyard diesel depart del aire to defend democracy in the desert


San Diego (Feb 24, 2013).  Dumb old dad did a lot of waiting in line.  Lines for papers and lines for shots, lines for uniforms and lines for boots.  Dumb old dad was so busy waiting in line that he completely forgot where he was.  

"I can't wait to get home tonight and see Ciaran and mommy!" thought dad.  Then dad realized that he would see Ciaran amd mommy, but it wouldn't be until the end of baseball season and it was only spring training.  "Bollards!" cried dad.  And he was blue.  

The day ended, and the bugle sounded on the base.  Dumb old dad went to his room, unpacked his gear and went for a run.  "Runs always have a way of making me feel better, and I would really love to feel better right now," dad said.  

Dad put on his running shoes and dad ran, but did not feel better.  

Dad then realized: "Sandwiches!  They always make me feel better!!!!  I will eat a sandwich." 

Dad made a delicious peanut butter sandwich and ate it in 2 bites.  But dad did not feel better.  

Dad thought that maybe he would just feel lousy until October and sighed.  

He had to pick up some groceries for the week.  He changed into some jeans and put on his backpack. He walked out the door of his room, down the sidewalk and out of the base to the trolley stop.  

CLANG!  CLANG!  CLANG!

The arms of the trolley crossing tilted down and dad thought: "I better hurry.  I don't want to be late for the train."  Dad started running to the trolley.  

CLANG!  CLANG! CLANG!  

“Alright!” a voice behind dad shouted.  Dad was startled and turned around, but there was no one there.

Dad got on the trolley just before doors shut. It was empty because it was a Sunday.  But dad heard the voice again.  

"Now you're cooking with diesel!" said the voice.  Dad looked around, but there was no one there. Dad heard some rustling in his backpack.  He unzipped the biggest pocket, but there was only a sweater in it.   He unzipped the second-biggest pocket, but there were only purple yo-yos in it.  He unzipped the third-biggest pocket and discovered his top hat and monocle were in that one.  Dad unzipped the fourth-biggest pocket and pulled out something small, red, and smiling. 

“Salty!” dad shouted. 

“Aye, aye, sir. Salty, pride of the seven seas, sent by Ciaran.  Sorry for scaring you earlier.  I smelled the sea air and heard some train noises and thought I might have a chance to be really useful, but then I saw the size of these here tracks and realized I’m gauged too small to chuff along the rails…”

Salty smiled, but dad could tell he was trying really hard to smile. “It’s okay, Salty,” said dad.  “You can ride with me on the trolley.” 

“Aye-aye, sir!” said Salty. Salty looked down at the floor of the trolley, then looked back up at dad and smiled a real smile.  “But I just realized that I will be really useful: I’ll keep you company on your trip and remind you of Ciaran and mommy so you won’t be too blue.” 

“You are really useful,” said dad.  And dad wasn’t so blue.


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