Greetings From Baghdad "Phone Tag You're It"

A lighthearted, semi-factual look at Army life from the inside.

 

Howdy friends and neighbors! I would like to share with you a series of letters, written to my parents while I was serving in sunny southern Baghdad.

I noticed all my friends that wrote consistently tended to write solemn, serious commentary. They would explain in great detail the dangers and hardships that they faced daily in the fight to survive on the modern battlefield, seemingly in the hopes of scaring the bejesus out of their family and friends.

I decided to go another route. Using a combination of quick e-mails and letters, I decided to give them the lighter side of army life. Yep I lied a lot. With a little distortion and creativity enhanced by lack of sleep and 140 degree heat, the Greetings from Baghdad series was born.

So now without further ado I present to you…….

 

Greetings from Baghdad where the leaders of tomorrow are calling people that are not home today!

To whom it may concern. Though you may think that your little e-mail is enough of an excuse for your non answering the phoneness, you are wrong! This brings to mind the old saying; “Excuses are like quiche, real men don’t eat them!” Or something like that. I never really understood why they don’t eat quiche, nor could I swear on a stack of bibles that I could pick a quiche out of a gourmet food line up. In fact I am not even sure if I am spelling quiche right. What I do know is that if you say quiche over and over really quickly as demonstrated in the following diagram…… (deep breath)

QuicheQuicheQuicheQuicheQuicheQuicheQuicheQuicheQuicheQuiche………….

……… (panting) that it stops sounding like a real word.

This brings me to my next point, which I hope is not to sharp because I am a little dizzy from hyperventaquiching and I might fall on it.

I like mashed potatoes and gravy. I know what your thinking, GRAVEY? POTATOES? Isn’t that fattening? I know that you thought I was a paragon of healthy virtue, but I must admit to daily surrendering to the siren call of the starches.

I have no more power against their call then that Greek guy wearing a towel that bravely sailed somewhere for something or other! (Definitely not quiche, although the towel wearing does raise some manhood questions.) The taters and gravy reach out seductively across the chow hall saying, “somethingorother!”

OK, I don’t really know what they are saying, I don’t make it a habit to talk to vegetables, (assuming potatoes are vegetables) unless I am forced to deal with the National Guard. National Guard Motto “Fielding the finest soldiers we can in one weekend a month, unless Lester has to work over time at the service station in which case it’s one weekend every other month, unless of course Susan forgets to sew the costumes, then we’ll just deploy and try to imitate the other soldiers or something!” In a word, Inspiring.

So you can clearly see why I cannot accept your excuses for not being available for my calls. It would do you some good to go on a hunger fast for at least a month and sit “Native American” style on the floor and endlessly repeat some focusing mantra. I suggest QuicheQuichQuicheQuicheQuicheQuiche…………