Entry # 55: June 24, 2006

Camp Buehring, Kuwait (Somewhere near the Iraq border)

I got a package today from a loved one. My dear Aunt Wynelle, who is quite possibly the sweetest, most thoughtful aunt alive, sent me a package filled with many of the things I love in life: salted peanuts, mints and gum (so my breath smells nice for the ladies), and Lewis Grizzard books.

Now, you youngin’s might not be able to recall the wit and insightful humor of the great newsman and patriot of Southernism, but I do. I started reading the Atlanta Journal-Constitution with a cup of coffee on my first day of kindergarten, right when Mr. Grizzard was in his prime. In addition to his role as weekly columnist, Mr. Grizzard wrote numerous books with titles that would make you laugh before you even opened the cover. Forget those Pulitzer people, with titles like “My Daddy was a Pistol and I’m a Son of a Gun” and “Shoot Low Boys, They’re Riding Shetland Ponies”, Mr. Grizzard is my choice of literature when I want a good read. A champion for the ways things used to be and should continue to be, Mr. Grizzard could make you shake with laughter and then bring a tear to your eye, all in the same paragraph. He loved the South with all its characters, peculiarities, and solid American traits, not to mention its food. Only he could think to refer to his three-year tenure in Chicago as his days spent “in exile”. Unfortunately, Mr. Grizzard died in 1994 during surgery on his generous, yet fragile heart. I wish he was still writing today.

Thanks, Aunt Wynelle. You’ve made this Solider’s (insert amount of time it takes to read ‘em all and eat the peanuts while doing so). It seems fitting that my Aunt Wynelle would be the one to send me these books. I don’t know if she can recall this particular fond memory of mine, but she vehemently tried to talk me out of applying to any college above the Mason-Dixon Line, stating, “I don’t want you to meet and marry a Yankee girl.” Don’t fret, Aunt Wynelle, I like my women like I like my coffee: tan, sweet, and home-brewed.

Speaking of Southern women, my cousin Sherry got married yesterday. Congratulations to you, Sherry, Papa and Mama would be proud. Also, sorry, but the wedding gift is gonna be a bit late. Do you realize the restrictions they put on shipments of baby camels? Enjoy the honeymoon and may your years be filled with love, laughter, and luck. Fill it with love first and the other two will follow. God bless. And so the Soldier’s life continues…