posted Fri, 20 Jul 2007
At boot camp this morning, we somehow got on the subject of names and superheroes:
Jim: I know a woman named Taylor Taylor. She met her husband on a blind date, but almost didn’t go on the date because she didn’t want to marry someone with that last name.
Tony: Women actually think about things like that?
Me: Tony. Fifth-grade girls fill the front cover of their spiral notebook with “Mrs Bobby Smith.”
Tony: Right. How could I have forgotten about that?
Me: My concern with a blind date would be more about previous incarcerations and stints in rehab.
Jim: That’s what The Google and public records are for.
Me: Yeah, but that only works if he was caught and convicted.
Melanie: Tony, I am so sorry about the way Gray [her first-grade son] was climbing all over you. He worships you! He thinks you’re just like one of his superheroes. I just didn’t know what to do.
Tony: That’s OK. When I was first in the Marines and had gone home after boot camp, I wore my uniform to church. We were standing around after the service and this seven-year-old walks up to me, looks me up and down, and kicks me hard, right in the shin. I looked at him and asked, “What did you do that for? That hurt!” He answered, “But you’re a Marine!”
The end of the line
11 months ago