So what does it take to get someone's attention when they are otherwise engaged. Maybe, like your wife. or any wife, my wife. No! Let's play it safe and say the generalized other's wife. OK! Good! I only speak one language when I'm around the house; but the wife has in her quiver many languages with piercing tips that serve to distort my understanding of what I'm trying to put forward. But, with the generalized other there are even more languages being synthesized. For example, it is like the Blog that I put out yesterday wherein I stated that I received a section 8 when discharged from the military, which my wife would agree with anyway but some readers could not believe. The Section 8 clause is "for the good of the service." Now! It is true that the military feels that if they cannot contain you that there is something wrong with you. In my case everything was wrong because I was 21 years old; I had been in school; I had a full time job as an office manager for the Meadow's in Framingham, Ma.; I had a girl that I loved & was engaged too when the Draft call came down from the powers that be. So, I end up in the Air Force, stationed in Peshawar, West Pakistan holding on to my dick in the one hand, and a 'dear john' letter in the other hand. Fucking A! You are right on if you think that I'm pissed. So, I go native in tribal territory; the powers that be do not understand what is going on. Side bar: I'm the guy who comes from the streets of Waltham, Ma. There it is not much different from the streets of Peshawar; it's dog eat dog for the scraps flowing downward from the top. Think Reagan & the 'trickle down theory,' there I was a street kid with street smarts working the Biblical streets from the old British Empire. Yes! When I was there, Pakistan was only 20 years old, where as Peshawar had been on the boarder with Afghanistan. It's the Kyber Pass between Kabul, Afghanistan & Peshawar, West Pakistan, forever. Plus! They gave me a gun to protect their secrets from falling into the wrong hands; as I made my way from the installation -government hideout- to the airport just on the edge of town. This is where I hocked up with P.I.A airlines heading to Rawalpindi or Karachi. You Know! Traveling through tribal territory carrying classified government documents along with the mail; Just yours truly & a colt 45 government issue as well as a 38 revolver. It got so bad that the military thought that I was C.I.A. undercover as an enlisted airman. What is the point? Well from Peshawar I went to Paris,France. While there, I got married and played around on the streets at nights. Yes! The streets of Paris 1966/68 were for me the right touch of hope; they too were in their 20's, the first generation coming into life; it was their family's resurrection too. Recap! 20years after world war two, I was serving in Pakistan, the country was only 20 years old due to being separated from India, 1945. I played around in Karachi as well; it was the capital at that time right on the Indian ocean. Now the capital is in Islamabad. It is all about believing in Numbers. I met the generation from two separate parts of the world when I was in my 20's, as they were in their respective 20's, Believe me when I say that I know what it is like to be pissing in the wind. Now! my wife on the other hand could be explained if she were from Roswell, New Mexico where many aliens resides, sort of speaking in tongues. It's so out of "space" there; I know because I too had an adventure playing around with the Devil; but that is another story.
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