Dad really didn’t want his kids in the service. Said he did enough for all of us, and told me to find a job where I wasn’t doing a mental cost/benefit analysis of my career choice, with bullets wizzing past me.
Would have been ironic, don’t you think, if just after taking a long pull off your bottle of High Ten (you keep it in the glove box or under the seat?) on your way to your Teamster job a Molotov cocktail came winging through the window of the Olds during the riots in that bunghole town you live in.
Teamsters kept me out of that.
And you get a government pension just like pops. Win win!
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Commies. Pops fought ‘em, you work for ‘em.
