Entry #39: April 15, 2006

Camp Buehring, Kuwait (Somewhere near the Iraq border)

In the Stars and Stripes, there is a section covering random news around the U.S. I always make sure to check for news from my favorite region, the South, and my favorite state, Georgia. Well, today I got lucky. There was a little bit covering the well trained response of some police who were at the University of Georgia going through some law enforcement instruction. See what had happened was these cops saw a masked figure dressed in black dart across the lawn in between some campus buildings. Applying their skills, the police apprehended the masked culprit only to discover he was returning from a Pirates vs. Ninjas function. Pirates vs. Ninjas… what the heck is that? Allow me to enlighten you as much as I can. Apparently, among college age individuals, debate centers not on Democrats vs. Republicans, Pro-Choice vs. Pro-Life, Budweiser vs. Miller, but rather Pirate vs. Ninja. Young folks everywhere battle it out over whether it is better to be a Ninja, or more advantageous to be a Pirate. Where did this trifling contest begin? I haven’t a clue, and I couldn’t even begin to tell you why.

As for my standing on this divisive issue, it boiled down to one thing. Sake vs. Rum. Rum wins. I like the Pirates. Then I started thinking more. To take a line from Seinfeld, where Jerry has to wear a fluffy white pirate shirt, “I don’t wanna be a pirate.” They live on a ship with 150 other pirates. Your boss has one good eye, one good leg, and one good hand. The biscuits have worms. Your teeth fall out from scurvy. I don’t wanna be a ninja either. Black is a boring color. I look better in earth tones. I have a charming smile (which you can’t see behind a ninja mask). I’m better with guns than swords. So, I did some serious soul searching.

I decided I should a cowboy. Cowboys are much better than ninjas and pirates. You live in the great outdoors, communing with nature. There’s a lot of fun to be had in cow towns at the end of the road. You ride a horse instead of being stuck on a ship; you don’t have to sneak around. You carry a six-shooter rather than a cutlass or katana. I should be a cowboy.

Then “Brokeback Mountain” came out. I quickly decided I didn’t want to be a cowboy anymore. I was lost in an identity crisis. I didn’t eat well. I slept too much. I started getting desperate, even making a case for being a musketeer, until I was reminded that they were mostly French. Who was I? What noble persona should I take on?

Then, I had what alcoholics would call a moment of clarity. I decided I didn’t care if I was a Ninja or a Pirate or a Cowboy. I mean, seriously, who cares? I decided to remain neutral in the Pirate vs. Ninja debate and spend my time on more important debates, such as PC vs. Mac, or Nike vs. Adidas. And then there’s Coke vs. Pepsi, Time vs. Newsweek, and whether to go with double-ply or tough it out with single. There are many more important debates I’ll engage in. And so the Soldier’s life continues…