Sometime in the midst of Saturday's festivities, Diamond Mair was talking about Marines who had changed her diapers (I ain't gonna speculate about what brought that on). We discovered that one of her Quantico "nannies" was same-same my second CO in Vietnam, whom I knew only as Major Frank Manrod. The Skipper died a few years ago, but that small-world, small-family connection lives on.
That's what makes these get-togethers and other reunion-type stuff so incredibly valuable to preserving the moments of history. Further discussion has me convinced that some of my ditty-chasin' pals will remember Mair's dad, yet another crypto-grunt! Anyhow. . .
When I arrived a bit before noon so as not to disturb the well-deserved winger naps (I've come to characterize them, very generously, as desperately-needed, winger beauty-sleeps), AWACS made me produce positive identification at the door. AWACS didn't recognize me in my winger high-and-tight, wherein the pony tail is tied back high after pulling it tight. Upon producin' ID, I was allowed into Ed Henderson's Winger Heaven, already populated by said Awacky along with Big Al, Al's Sweet Jean, and their daughter, Becky. We had a few minutes fer flag-raisin' and visitin' afore the ladies departed to go antique shopping, and Martin (the Dirty One) arrived.
Because I had some beer shoppin' to do, Erik kindly chauffeured me to the nearest purveyor of fine spirits and corkscrews. En route, we did a quick fly-over (winger-speak fer a pass through the parkin' lot) at the hotel where SuperFod and Mair were staying, and discovered them in departure mode fer Casa Edwardo.
Upon our return, as we started to discover the things that drew us together and waited for the rest of the party to arrive, beer started to flow, chow started to disappear, and soon, himself, Ed Hender-san, arrived!
22-24 June 2001
Big Al, aghast at
Dittychaser's "high and tight"