I'm a real maverick, aren't you?
Well, maybe not. I'm thinking about the pilots who flew over Viet Nam, dumped their load, then had cocktails at distant airfields. All those dead peasants still bother me -- villages lighting up with Napalm.
Like the planners of the war in Iraq, I had other things to do and didn't serve. Don't respond, I will not press my maverick status. The word is kind of idiotic, if not geriatric. Like theatre in an assisted living community.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
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