Cold and Wet

I never got Veteran’s Day off when I was working full-time. They didn’t start giving free meals away until a new and different group of veterans started coming home. So, I’m not that used to making plans. To top it all off yesterday, my beloved roommate was trying to fly back here from Houston, TX. Don’t ask. Let me just say it involved Brad Paisley, Joe Walsh, Sheryl Crow, the Doobie Brothers, Jason Isbell, and (most of all) ZZ Top.

So I was stuck hanging around waiting to see how the weather in Chicago affected the flights in Houston. Called a good friend and fellow vet. We started reminiscing and guess what the conversation centered on before we knew it? Yep. How some of the coldest most miserable times we ever spent were in Southeast Asia.

Southeast Asia? You’ve heard it was hot there? It was.

Except.

Except for four hours into a six-hour midwatch. That’s four bells plus one for those who were wondering.

They had these things called “the monsoons” in Southeast Asia. That’s when it rains for forty days and forty nights without stopping and the South China Sea doesn’t rise except during the flood tide. Noah must have prevaricated as un-vetted leaders often do.

Anyway. Since it was always hot in Southeast Asia, our beloved military issued us nothing to prepare for sitting in a pouring rain for hours in the middle of the night, in the middle of nowhere, except one poncho. No matter how one arranged a poncho, or multiple ponchos if he subscribed to the black market, about three hours into a watch, one drop of water would find a circuitous path to raw skin. It would signal others, and like a line of ants who have found food, they would deliver a stream of cold water to a hostile body. A total soaking lay only minutes away.

Let me tell you: cold, wet, miserable, and scared ain’t no way to go through life.

But, yesterday I had a better treat. Figuring I needed nourishment for the waiting that lay ahead, I stopped in one of my favorite Little Rock establishments, E.J.’s at Sixth and Center, and had a “Soprano” sandwich. It was a dandy, representing at least five of the seven deadly sins. I figured, “What the hell?” I ordered a Stella to balance the Jalapeno chips.

The waitperson came over as I finished and, noticing the hat I had worn to protect me from the rain outside, asked me if I was a veteran? On receiving the correct answer, she informed me that I was eligible for a 20 percent discount and a free piece of something called “butternut cheesecake.”

She lied to me. It wasn’t a “piece.” It was a quarter or so of a whole pie. But it was pouring outside, the flights were delayed, and I remembered how cold rain can get. I ate the whole damn thing and left happy. You'll never guess what I was singing as I walked out and the rain hit me.