Yesterday, I had lunch with a few old Navy friends at McP’s Irish Pub in Coronado, CA. Of those remaining, a subset of whom made the pilgrimage to McP’s, about half are completely retired and the other half are doing something. The guys have the class of James Bond and the habits of a drunk mother at a family gathering.
None of them had anything good to say about Barack Obama (referred to as “that f-ing mulatto”) or Hillary Clinton (referred to as “that cupid stunt” – or something like that). Nobody had anything good to say about former Minnesota Governor Jessie (Jack-Off Jessie) Ventura, either.
The Navy brought us together in various permutations and combinations. Some of us trained together, others in our little coterie fought or deployed together. A couple still work for sundry government agencies, but are planning to leave in the near future. Getting together at McP’s is called, “going to church”. Some of the guys actually go to church, and others don’t bother. None of us stand out in a crowd, and looking at the band of aging warriors, a dozen or so sitting around a table in the pub, you’d think that we were just another bunch of patriotic Americans, which we are. About half are mustang officers. The other half left the navy as Senior Chiefs or Master Chiefs. Some are mean drunks, some are happy drunks, all are horny drunks. But most don’t drink much anymore.
The guys all looked OLD. I am ageless, like Dorian Gray with a picture somewhere that looks like a mummy…or so I tell myself. Three of the guys showed up on Harley Davidsons. I rode the Ducati Diavel. The first challenge brought my reply that I’d race anybody for pink slips who has the balls — right out the door and down the Silver Strand. A few snarls and they stood down –and smiled. Nobody took the bait.
We were all amazed to have lived this long (late 50’s and early 60’s). Why did we do it? The consensus: phobos, doxa & kerdos (Fear, fame and loot)…the universal motivation for all warriors. We figured out that there not equal parts – thin on the loot.
Ron’s Garage band played…as usual. We talked of being rowdy but most of us are past doing it in such a way that there are witnesses to tell the tale.