No shit, ankle deep in baby shit, watching Fancy Nancy with my daughters and remembering the bad ass mother fucker I used to be.
But we'll get back to that. I've been prompted to get writing by family who tells me that they miss me writing. Well, I don't have a whole helluva lot to write about now. I'm just an average joe with an average job, I'm your average white, suburbanite slob...
So let's go back and write about a guy I used to know, We're going to go back about 10 years from now to 2008, to a place called Freeport, IL. Hole in the earth if there ever was one, but we're in the gymnasium of the National Guard Armory there and there's nothing but soldiers and we're about to embark on what might be the fucking funniest year of our lives...
"FALL IN" The platoon sergeant bellowed. He bellows a lot, he's a platoon sergeant. Look up self important in the dictionary and you'll see this guy standing behind a second Lieutenant shaking his head.
Then the trampling sound of 40 some pairs of boots hitting the floor over and over as all the soldiers of second platoon come running for wherever they had been prior to those magic words and into formation. So now you've got what was previously a gaggle of soldiers has now formed into those wonderful lines. Basically, for you civilians out there "fall in" means stand next to and behind someone until you are all next to and/or behind someone in nice little rows so you can be counted easily. Its one of the first dog tricks you're taught upon entrance into the US Army, which I will refer to for the remainder of this rag as "Mother Army" mostly because there were only two things in my life that abused the shit out of me, but I still loved...my mother and the US Army.
Anyway, the platoon daddy turns his head, looks at the first guy in the first row, also known as the squad leader and says, REPORT.
The guy looks back, he's not actually the squad leader, that guy is someplace else. Who knows where, he's a 6 we don't get to ask. Anyway, the faux squad leader says, 1st squad, all accounted for. Which is the answer you give when you've got no clue where everyone is. Truth be told, the report is typically fairly specific, at least it was in the regular army. It was usually something like this, "1SG, 2nd Platoon, 1st squad, 12 assigned, 10 present, one at sick call, one CQ off." or some shit like that. CQ is charge of quarters, basically the guys who answer the phone and make sure the drunks get back to their barracks rooms with only minor injuries all night.
This process repeats itself, 3 more times. Far as I can tell, we've got 33 of the 48 we're supposed to have. Not sure, really wasn't listening.
The platoon sergeant does the funny little pirouette, formally known as "about face" and stands at attention waiting for the Lieutenant to come on up. The lieutenant walks as fast as he can around from the rear of the formation, not gonna lie, he's got what my buddy Tony would refer to as a "duck butt" which is an ample bottom that protrudes far out from his backside making his gait a pretty funny thing to see, even more so when he's basically power walking like a soccer mom from the back to the front of this formation.
We've all got a pretty good idea of what's coming next. The commander walks to the front of the room and surveys his troops. You can see from the look of him that he's got a fairly high opinion of himself, but it doesn't change the fact that he's a 4 eyed douchbag if there ever was one. More to come on that.
The rumors have been swirling for months, who is going, where are they going, when are they going? No one knows, everyone heard from their sister's friend's brother's uncle's former roommate who heard it from the transsexual midget they were having an affair with behind their wife's back that its....Afghanistan.
The commander shouts with all the base his girly voice will muster, "COMPANY" He pauses to allow the Lieutenants to snap to attention from their state of parade rest and shout themselves, "PLATOON" Which makes me silently chuckle to myself because duck butt up in front basically took a big ole' bite out of his britches with his butt cheeks, but anyway...
"ATTENTION!!!!" His voice cracks just a bit on the third T. He does his own pirouette, indicating he's going to turn this formation over to someone else, which throws me off. I'm a soldier, at least in formation, anything out of the norm throws me off. I mean have you ever seen a basic training company practicing "rear, march"?
Anyway, another officer comes strutting up to the front. He's big brass. You can tell by the way he walks. People don't walk that way unless they're very used to people getting out of their way, and standing up when they walk into a room.
He gets up to the front, salutes the commander, the commander moves to the side and this guy, in an actually manly voice, shouts, "ATTENTION TO ORDERS"
And all the rumors cleared themselves up real quick.....