The Liquor Talking

So to you people that are causing this global warming (the kind that results in record low temperatures and record precipitation) please knock it the heck off. I know it looks like global cooling (in these parts at least) but it’s actually warmth that’s making it cold. So stop it.

Even when he wasn’t drunk, he was something of an eccentric fellow. More than once, his “Sunrise Sermonette” (delivered at 0500. every morning via the base’s closed-circuit TV system) would deteriorate into a profanity laden, enigmatic rant on a plethora or topics.

His favorite subject was to hold forth on the dangers of becoming involved with the local females. According to him, Turkish women had all manner of “social diseases” (they’re called STDs nowadays) that could not be cured by any means. Turkish men of course were immune and this is how God keeps Americans and Turks form interbreeding.

Since these were safely confined to the base’s closed-circuit system, there was scant possibility that the people of our host nation would see them and become offended.

While it wasn’t at all worth getting up at 0500 to watch, a lot of our static security posts had cable connections and you could bring your portable TV and watch 5 year old re-runs of American TV shows. Watching the Sunrise Sermonette was usually good for a laugh. At least it was original programming.

One particular tirade got him into hot water. Apparently, there is a section of the book of Genesis (chapter 38) which our chaplain interpreted to mean: “It is better to cast your seed in the belly of a whore than to spill it on the ground.” He used this as the basis of a sermonette that claimed it was better for the young GI, far from home, to visit the local houses of ill repute than to “spill it on the ground.”

Naturally, this caused quite an uproar among the the more devout among us, including our deputy base commander, a tea-totaling Mormon.

His “retraction” the next day basically consisted of a long-winded admonition that we GIs shouldn’t go spilling our seed anywhere and that sex for anything other than the purposes of procreation was sinful.

This of course ignited a whole ‘nother debate and for the next few weeks, the sermonettes were little more than him reading selected scripture, with zero commentary. The final installment came when he read the “Sermon on the Mount” while huffing helium.

Every Friday, our First Sergeant would cook up a big pot of beans and franks and set it up in our dayroom. The only provision was that you had to eat them from your canteen cup. Chaplain Hawks paid us a visit one evening and was delighted to find us sitting around, eating beans and franks from canteen cups.

“What’s in the pot, there my child?”
Beans and franks, sir.
“Beans and franks?! “
Yessir, our Shirt brings these in every Friday.
“Mind if I have some?”
Not and all.
“Know what we used to call ‘em in the Nam?”
No sir.
“Beans and mother******s!”
Nervous laughter.

He ate a cup full, them went throughout the dorm, knocking on doors and telling everyone to get to the dayroom for “Beans and mother******s!” It was okay, unless you were trying to sleep in preparation for a mid shift.

In other news, it looks like we might finally be getting a break from all this rain. We drove out yesterday to look at Doc’s driveway and it may be some time yet before I’m able to go out and retrieve my turkey blind:

You can’t tell from the pic, but there’s supposed to be 6 other concrete culverts beside the ones visible. These are about 30 yards downstream. Needless to say, the guys that “fixed” it two weeks ago did it wrong.

Anyway, that’s it for today. Have a fantastic Tuesday. Tune in tomorrow for Reader Mail! There’s still time to get your pearls in front of the swine by posting comments about this blog to the FaceBook site about it People Who Love elimtevir.com, or by sending your email(s) to: .