The military frame of mind is certainly different, but let's care. One don't want to judge a larger world and never act-out and use that E-word.

I was drafted in February of 1969. In April of that same year I was in the South. I loved how civilians would talk when you'd get your first weekend pass in late April. It was windy in 1969 and you'd put a jacket on, then take the jacket off again.

The in-between 'things,' without a doubt, are what can have ya feeling a bit 'silly' but that's not what Garrison Keillor was talking about. I think. It was the Southern hospitality. And youth who will die in a stupid war.

Minds can wonder. A mean streak was not apparent in most of the Southerner's. I ever met. Bless their big hearts and Life. The South still can remember being invaded from the North? Well, lets stay outta politics on a May day. On the Prairie on Sunday, sitting in my truck at the lake just a few miles from the Mason Dixon line, a snippet/lyric announcer said, "Forget you all who may think you got Southern blood and understand we Southerners." What! I found out on Sunday's show I can't even call myself, a Marylander, a Southerner?

Oh go shucks corncobs for 2-cents a ear. Don't gossip in a corn field with all those ears of sweet corn on a cob.

During the Civil War (reading below my eyebrows) the Union forces came to my town and the ladies had to make bread. When the Southern forces came through town the ladies had to darn the socks. I live in the wooded mountains where the donkey's, wagons, saddles, and bridals were hid. Where was Garrison? Oh, I remember, "On an April day in Georgia sipping lemons..."

I remember, even tho I didn't volunteer to go to Airborne School, 'cause only Airborne Rangers and bird doo-come falling from the blue sky. Those military catchy cadence songs are remember-able...Beware of pageantry!

"Oh, I want to be a Airborne Ranger," the Smokey The Bear Drill Sergeant would huff, "I want to go to Vietnam because NixonsCo wants troops to kill 'ole Charlie V.C. Cong. Go to the left, go to the right, One, Two, Three, Four, Let's all go!"

Oh, considering how times change and remain the same, the V.C. are the 'venture capitilist' who know no boundaries. V.C. insist on what they grave. Anyone who pays No homage or loyalty, a standby "dumbo" human just standing on a fence post, or on the street's periphery...I say, it's best to accept a truism. Realize a wretched people (name them) lack integrity or esteem. They will kill thee...if you cross them."

But I loved the Southern Hospitality. It's a lovable word, Hospitality= A person simply open the door, and guest invited to open their their hearts and fill the bellies. It's a place to escape the cold draft. "Oh, want a swig of peach gin, a mint in some lemon juice, or will you please have (a big pile of delicious) mashed cream corn?" I want everything you said.

You know what I'm trying to tell you? I loved a hospitable church lady that came to the military base to invite drafted private e-2's to a late Sunday eve service. "Young boys," she said, "the government is terrible. We have no business in Vietnam. God knows young soldiers are just being used and shot for rich people. God knows, a soldier can't duck when the V.C start shooting. Remember God will be with you boys and I'll pray...Bless the food, bless each other, we must learn to love one another..."

Amen. You can say that again You are right about that one. That is for certain. You sure are right about that. I tell you one more thing that is true. You can bet that if you have love, you may not be able to take it to the bank, but if you love each other, you will be okay in the big picture. Trust me about that, if you can. Paraphrased.

"Want a third pile of smashed potatoes with butter?" No thanks.

I want honey and home made peach ice cream you got any of that in your ice box refrigerator? I'll have huge triple scoops of that to go. Can I have a bottle of peach schnapps for a few guest at Glenn Greewalds site?

People over there carry intoxicants in pockets. Thanks G.K.

You can wear yellow or green canvass sneakers that squeegee in the rain if you keep telling BushCo's 'Resident Occupants' that they st-old the White House. Get them out before the hoodlums ruin the Earth. If they (the ilk) are none changed for to be useful humans in DC, Not a Green Lima Bean will be planted in future seasonal rituals.

wow. A memory. Thanks. Holy Rhubarb and asparogis for you...