Wrexie VS Flameboy

Flameboy.

It didn't go over so well...

read on:

I was living in Texas at the time… about 20 minutes north of Galveston Island.  It was Spring Break.  I worked for the school, so my son and I had a week off.  

A good mil-support friend asked if I’d like to come down to a beach house her family had rented for the week.  She knew I was missing my family… especially a brother I had lost to a motorcycle accident…. we had been very close.

So I made plans to hang out with them now and again at the beach house over break.  She had been working over her favorite mil-support troop, encouraging him to spend some time with the whole fam-damily. (They have 4 trolls kids).  

I knew of America’s finest from boxes we’d mailed to the dark places of the world where he was slaying dragons and thwarting villains; boxes of Super-hero sheets and hi-tech toys like squirt guns and random crazy stuff …anything we found hilarious at the moment to go alongside the usual necessities of tooth paste and beef jerky.  Mind you, he never asked for anything… but that’s beside the point.

Having had a few sibling-type encounters with Burkis Khan Burke, I questioned if it was a good idea to put us on the same island together.  I affectionately called him “little-bro” since we engaged in conflict similar to how my brother and I had. 

 Ahhh… brotherly love.

Upon arrival, I brought him a peace offering (and well deserved) pack of icy cold Mexican beer in glass bottles. (…and of course filled my trunk with airsoft assault weapons, just in case ;)

He saw my loaded trunk and must have thought twice of my sisterly love.  He took a well-trained double-take before noticing the orange tips.  (Score one for me….)

We had some good fun with the airsoft… obliterating Man-of-War jellyfish.  (They were the enemy and included the word war, so we were on it).   My son enjoyed annihilating them with a real warrior.  Great fun, ‘twas.

Then there was the ninja play on the beach which I wisely excused myself from.  (I hid in the house)…but only to come up with a defensive plan that included icy water…men should never underestimate the workings of a woman’s mindset in survival mode)  He had those kids traumatized with delight throwing them around in the surf like rag dolls.   Priceless.   (No limbs were lost at sea…but ice water was at the ready for defensive tactics)

Down time consisted of a healthy dose of arguing debating and of course consuming large quantities of brownies (with pink frosting) and Mexican beer.

What was the topic of argument debate you ask?  (Think siblings here and the picture becomes clearer…) 

 A word. 

A simple little word.

One

I … uh …

...just mentioned.  

In complete innocence, I tell you!  Complete! and don’t let him tell you otherwise.(Also keep in mind A1S had a new laptop he just purchased sitting in front of him.) 

And in MY defense:  my oldest son was a skater; he loved skateboarding and all the gear and crazyarse stuff that went with it.  One of his favorites was World Industry’s Wet Willy & Flameboy.   One was a drip of water… the other a fireball.  The fireball seemed complimentary from where I stood.   ...just sayin'.

I called America’s First Sarg a Flameboy.   You know, as in…. “Knock it off you dern fireball wisecracker ninja.”   

Yes.  I did.  I said it.  …and yes he looked at me with squinted zombie-slayer eyes.

I leave the room for a moment to let his eyes return to a normalish glow.  (but only because I just happened to have to hide in visit the ladies room) 

Only to come right back to a glowing keyboard and:

DO YOU KNOW WHAT THE URBAN DICTIONARY DEFINITION OF FLAMEBOY IS YOUNG LADY?

Uh oh.  (I had no idea… other that it must be reallllllly bad)

I offer him a pink iced brownie (laughing, because that's what I do when these things happen) ….but he’s not hungry for pink brownies…. he had his dragon slaying face on…I believe this to be one of the rare times when brownies do not appeal to America’s 1^st Sergeant.)

Did I say, Uh oh?

Oops……

I check all exits. 

Where the heck is everyone?   Where's my airsoft arsenal?

This is where Betty and I can relate.  She wasn’t afraid of Col Chesty Puller.   I had the exact same thought at this moment.  ““Oh, everyone was so afraid of him, but I wasn’t. I figured that I wasn’t in the Marines, so what could he do to me?”   and I started laughing (while thinking Burke will never let me live this down, but none the less laughing) 

Our host was drawn into the conversation and questioned my sanity.   You should have seen the “are you kidding me? look .  Well, …it was nice knowin' ya Wrexie”.

Yeah… well.  I was innocent and dragon slayers NEVER hurt innocent maidens.  Never.  It breaks code.  (at least that’s what I told myself.)

Yes, there IS evidence.  …the picture above of him about to ninja-chop me to pieces.  

Well… we apparently sibling-bonded in our heated debate because we had some fun with visitors shortly after that (poor visitors, their sense of humor was lacking) And actually agreed on a family flick:  Princess Bride.   Classic.  Who can argue that?

Nothing like some good R & R with the “family”, eh?

I’m pretty sure he forgave me for the Flameboy incident. (guess we’re all about to find out…)  But I think it’s been in the archives long enough now that it is safe to talk about again.  If I do turn up missing, you’ll find me on a deserted isle without dessert (brownies) or airsoft weapons...

Back to the scorekeeping:  He has a few on me, I must admit.  (which he has long forgotten I hope…)  As far as friends go though, he never failed me when I needed his advice or help on something important.   It’s true.  And for those sacred times, ice picks are not even mentioned.

So there you have it. 

Looking Up

above

below

I sat on a rock under a tree in the park today.  It had this plaque on it. 

I ate my apple and thought of all the vets that have touched my life.

Some of the bites of my apple were sweet...

others bitter.

Some heartbreaking...some heroic.

But at the core;

veterans, all.

Today I saw the view from where many now lay...

and felt a peace, and a heartache, I can't explain.

Most Wanted...

Thank you... to ALL of our military who have put their lives on the line, and to those who have lost their lives in the good fight to hunt down the evil villains that roam our globe.  Each effort matters.


I love the heartbeat of this country... we'll never stop until justice is served.  It's a big deck of cards... but we shot a lethal hole in the Ace. Good job Seals... and the intel that led you to him.

...and I have to say that those Blackhawk pilots rock... they just do.   Rescue Ninjas, they are...

Happy Veteran's Day

THANK YOU, VETS.
...for you service at home.... and far off in foreign lands.

I can honestly say, I sleep better knowing you're there.   I experienced  your presence in a powerful way after a hurricane once ....when the hum of  Blackhawk helicopters  lulled me to sleep at night.  Hearing them reassured me I was safe, because there were men and women willing to stay up all night, at the risk of their own personal safety, to do their jobs so expertly to make sure of it. 

I thought of our vets in every flag I saw today, each waving so proudly in the breeze.  ...and I was thankful for all the sacrifices you make, for those you stand next to and fight beside...for your families... for your service.

It's been a long day... but I couldn't go to bed without writing this before the day's end.  ...my thanks to YOU.  Happy Veteran's Day to each of you.

....and especially to the one who saved me.  You'll always be my hero.
-Wrexie

Our Troops

This was posted at AdoptaPlatoon.
I found it worth posting again.
The first soldier I 'officially' adopted was from this organization.  He was a medic then, in AF...in the Korengal Valley with the 503rd.  I hope he came back... but I never did hear from him again.  He sent me a picture of his new baby girl when he got to come home on leave.
24 Jun
Our Troops 

He clutches the cross hanging on his chain next to his dog tags. He knows he may not see some of his buddies again.

You walk down the beach, staring at all the pretty girls.
He patrols the streets, searching for insurgents and terrorists.

You call your girlfriend and set a date for tonight.
He waits for the mail to see if there is a letter from home.

You hug and kiss your girlfriend, like you do everyday.
He holds his letter close and smells his love’s perfume.


You roll your eyes as a baby cries.
He gets a letter with pictures of his new child, and wonders if they’ll ever meet.

You criticize your government, and say that war never solves anything.
He sees the innocent tortured and killed by their own people and remembers why he is fighting.

You hear the jokes about the war, and make fun of men like him.

He hears the gunfire, bombs and screams of the wounded.

You see only what the media wants you to see.

He sees the broken bodies lying around him.

You are asked to do some thing by your parents. You don’t.

He does exactly what he is told even if it puts his life in danger.

You stay at home and watch TV.

He takes whatever time he is given to call, write home, sleep, and eat.

You crawl into your soft bed, with down pillows, and get comfortable.

He tries to sleep but gets woken by mortars and helicopters all night long.

REMEMBER our Troops, and do not forget them LATER