Look…and please don’t forget

Look…and please don’t forget

Let me help you with that excuse, Barack

Let me help you with that excuse, Barack

Here is a surprise, and dream come true for so many veterans who could not be given the dilly-dally over at the Veterans Administration (VA) hospitals. If you will and can indulge me for my story.

Ah! Remembering the late winter or early spring that year with hopes as high as the sky about my future as a hopefully one day becoming a professional athlete. Thanks to the recruiting teams — I had a lay down scholarship so money was not going to be problem.

The love of my life was as anxious as a bird in a cat cage. She was so worried something was going to happen to “our” relationship. “Like what,” challenging her to bring something real regarding our relationship. This one was the real deal — together for four plus years, and committed to each other like crazy. Being from a dysfunctional family with alcohol problems that were only overcome by the drug trade — that was my mother and her eighth husband.

This was also during a time when our government was more into your life than they are now. Because a huge and entirely unpopular war was breaking out, there appeared to be only one way out. Creedence Clearwater got the notion down with some very tricky verse — “It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no senator’s son, son It ain’t me, it ain’t me, I ain’t no fortunate one, no.”

01 A ReadyTherefore will all options out on the table — except one — it was looking like everything, EVERYTHING was going into a hold pattern — except the love of my life. So when the appropriate time came I went into the university’s Director of Admissions to try and secure what was then called a “Deferment Status” application — somehow maybe the U.S. government would also think that they had a real elitist future in me and the where with all to stop me from the inevitable — the U.S. Army.

Little did I know that the deferment application would take as long as it did. In the interim, I got to the one kneed status and gave the proposal of my life to my high school sweet young thing. I mean how happy can one man be? She said “Yes.”

deptbottomzone_1On the same day that I proposed to my soon to be wife, I also received the deferment status application back from Washington D.C.

If you are unaware of it now then please try and understand and keep up. We went out for dinner with all the fixings. I went forth from the protagonist’s viewpoint — I can take a couple of years off from school, keep in excellent physical condition, try to play intramural ball in the Army, get on the good side of the base commander, with hope, prayer, and of course God’s will stay as far away from the war as possible. Even my ending was lacking nothing — in the event I got hit then I would do recovery work most likely at Fitzsimmons Medical Center in Denver where we had planned to move.

As they say in so many tales — “It All Went to Hades in a Hand basket” — with not an i undotted or a t uncrossed. Everything I had placed into the serving, back to school, scholarship, physical condition, wife and marriage were gone. It was me doing two years and of course the U.S. Army.

Now just try and think for a moment about all the guys in a better position than I was in, and after 5 maybe 8 tours inNorbieRedCarpet

battle with five days left he’s running around clearing out. When one day unexpectedly he runs over a buried cable attached to five mega-bombs I.E.D., or explosive device.

The gentleman we all know is now so severely wounded we don’t even want to bring his name up. The Wounded Warrior Project is without conscience the most incredible organizations known to humankind. Where most agencies of its class never really make it, for so many who wish they were dead — they have received the true gift of love in The Wounded Warrior Project.

quote_top

About Jon-Paul

Academia, Constitution, Musicianship, all around Caucasian male, straight, and professes Jesus Christ as the Lord of my life. Guitars -- Classical, Acoustic, A/E, Strat, a real bassist at heart, Les Paul Standard bass.
This entry was posted in Political Correctness and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.