Honor America’s Vets

 

So. My tomato crop is in full production mode and we’re harvesting bushels every day. Even after providing for all of our family needs, we have fruit left for donations. We can and sun-dry tomatoes in copious quantities, but ten acres of high-yield tomato plants can overwhelm even us when at their most productive.

A new product for this year is my recently perfected tomato-basil soup recipe. It has a secret ingredient that helps it stand out from the crowd. Streaker Jones wants to market it over to Magical Mystery Foods, our clandestine prepared food company.

I say clandestine since each item in our product line is considered illegal in each of the fifty united states. We have been trying to get Gram to let us market her potions for her but she’s too independent. And I’m glad.

Anyway, I’m usually at my happiest at this time of year because tomatoes, and all things tomato, make me very happy. But I am not so happy and rather find myself pissed. I’m so disgusted with our government that I’m angry.

I’ve been feeling sorry for myself because I was having separation anxiety over finishing my book. Since I’ve been ruminating over the way the US Congress has found justification for placing the greed of big oil companies ahead of education and veteran support, my mind was on both my personal anxieties and the vets.

With those two thoughts in the forefront of my congested brain traffic patterns, I posted a whiny blurb and compared my miseries to what a returning veteran experiences when coming home from Iraq or Afghanistan. I wrote that post because I’m a total brain-dead fuckball.

How dare I compare my silly mood swing to the tragedies of war. I know that inappropriateness is my hallmark, but I have too much respect for soldiers and other service personnel to demean their travails stupidly. And the worst part of this is that I didn’t get it until the Reckmonster told me that my story hurt her because she lost one of her vets to suicide the same day I posted my stupid shit.

Ugh. I am an idiot. And maybe the Reckster will tell the story and I can help promote the cause of supporting veterans as penance for my stupidity. Stupidities.

Which brings me to another issue. A buddy of mine, my biggest compost customer and Baptist man extrodinaire, has requested that I print something he wrote. I have known this man for twenty years and I know him to be one of the few Baptist deacons that I can call friend. He is what I think of as a true Christian man, and I admire him.

He has asked me to print his dealie here so that he can see what happens with it. We wants to have it printed in his church’s Sunday bulletin but he fears the retaliation and strife it might cause. I guess he wants to test drive it out here in the desert before parking it under the shade of the apple tree in the Garden of Eden.

Holy shit was that a remote analogy, or what? Allegory?

The title of his piece is “My Jesus”. I’m going to print it, maybe soon.

We must do something to upgrade the levels of support we provide our veterans. We need to finds ways to show our appreciation. I fear that we Americans have lost our honor. I feel that we have become so entitled as a society that we don’t know how to behave. We must restore our honor.

And I need a Carta Blanca beer. Manana, y’all.

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7 Responses to “Honor America’s Vets”

  1. Mooner, I wasn’t making a dig at you, bud! Thanks for your nice thoughts – I will think about posting that little story. Besides, YOU HAVE to be there to make the insane comments. If we don’t laugh at your extreme inappropriateness (and wonder for the eleventy billionth time how in THE hell you got so fucking crazy) – then we’ll just cry. You break up the shitstorms in life with your humor! Keep on being Mooner…and we’ll all make sure folks know how to be honorable in our own ways. Rock on, now – pass the fuckin’ Carta Blanca and quit bogartin’!!!!

  2. Squatlo says:

    I must have missed the inappropriate blurb about returning vets. Must have been Tweeted or Twatted or whatever you do to get on that banal social networking system.

    Glad Reckem forgives you, I’d hate to think your wedding’s off over this!

    Bragging about your copious amounts of tomatoes pisses me off about as much as your callous disregard for our vets pisses off Reckem! I’ve got two little green maters dangling out in the garden, and that’s it except for a lot of blossoms.

    You oughta be thankful it’s so warm in Texas… we hate you up here.

  3. admin says:

    Reck. Please do the story. We all need to do more in support of our vets. Question– do you like phone sex? Just asking.

    Squat. You guys have the oppsoite problems there from us here. We’re too hot, too early, and too dry– always. My greenhouse and water wells give me a huge advantage.

    FUCK PRICK PERRY!

  4. OH Christ on a Friggin’ Pony, Mooner…don’t show your age! NOBODY does phone sex anymore! It’s all about “sexting” – don’t you watch the news?! Teenagers are doin’ it, Brett Favre is doin’ it, shit, I bet GRAM does it….you should ask her. She can fill you in on how to properly “sext.”

  5. Reck. I don’t text. But I can Skype!!!

  6. Tha fuck do you mean you don’t text???? Shit, even my 70 something year old pain in the ass clerk at work texts… Don’t be showed up by a fuckin’ hillbilly grandma. Learn to text, mannnnnn.

  7. admin says:

    Reck. I mean “I DON’T FUCKING TEXT!” Maybe if your ass clerk texts, then …

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