Private Benjamin Reporting

Our Esteemed Leader is visiting my old base in Germany today. I know I don't talk much here about my days in the Army (and some of you are like, wha? Army??), but man, I loved it. Not to go all Uncle Rico on your ass, but those were probably three of the best years of my life. No, really.

I was living in Europe, madly in love with my husband and baby, with the best job in the world. As a deejay on the military radio station, my show went out to 56 countries, from Scotland down to Saudi Arabia. I met Joan Jett and Alice Cooper, watched a Bulls game with Billy Corgan, and took Shaquille O'Neal shopping at the PX. I sat in tiny studio with Jeff Buckley while he sang "Last Goodbye" less than a year before the world lost him forever. Every woman at the station had a massive crush on that man.

Eric and I traveled whenever we got the chance: long weekends in Paris, side trips to Italy and Belgium, drives along the Rhine River. I've been to Oktoberfest and skiied in the Alps. I've seen the Mona Lisa and the David, kissed my husband atop the Eiffel Tower and under the Bridge of Sighs. I stood on the spot where my grandfather was held as a POW in WWII, now an empty meadow with a few stone foundations buried under the weeds as the only trace it was ever there.

My Army friends were the kind of friends who wander into your house without knocking and help themselves to the contents of your fridge. We spent holidays together, took vacations together, our kids were playmates. On more than one occasion, we woke up after a late night out with everyone piled comfortably in the same bed, like a litter of puppies. Drunk puppies, maybe, but you get the point. They were like family.

Not that everything was sunshine and roses, mind you. Eric was deployed for almost a year during the Bosnian conflict, leaving me to parent a toddler alone - no easy task when you're 20. Grama came to help, but she was sick with cancer and often I ended up taking care of her too. And then my circle of friends came apart at the seams. There was a phone call one night, when my friend L was working the late shift at the radio station. He calmly informed me that he was in love with me, that he'd already told his wife "everything." His wife, my best friend. Nothing had ever even happened but she still wanted nothing to do with any of us, and there was just no way to fix it.

I heard they eventually patched things up, and that they're now working at the American Embassy in the French Congo. My other friends have likewise scattered, coast to coast, Germany, the Phillipines, and of course, Iraq. From time to time I toy with the idea of looking them up, but I never follow through. I guess I just don't know what you say after so many years. And maybe it's better to just leave some things as they are. How does that saying go? "The past is behind us. It'd be really confusing if not." Or possibly I just made that up. Don't question my authority, soldier.

Now drop and give me twenty.

Metric "Combat Baby"
gbv "My Kind of Soldier"
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The kids' school requires them to write their homework assignments down every day in special pre-printed notebooks. There's a section for teachers or parents to comment in, but sometimes Dylan writes little notes to himself or things about his day there instead. Yesterday's comment made me laugh:

What if I was a pencil?

Weirdo.
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Date with John Dynamite tonight! We're ordering in Thai food and watching movies and making out. I have this movie from Blockbuster, but it might be a little much for a first date. You think?

Dear Wendi,

Please come home late and make lots of noise unlocking the door.

Love,
Your sister

Music For Hot Dates
Air, "Venus"
Mum, "Nightly Cares"
Sufjan Stevens, "That Dress Looks Nice On You"
Comas, "Falling"
Elliott Smith, "Say Yes"
Jeff Buckley, "Lover You Should Have Come Over"