I'll stop doing this so often, but this photo, along with the one from ninth grade that's two or three entries previous to this one, amuses me. It anchors me to a specific time more than most other photos from my past do and while it's sort of amusing to show people, for me it is also sort of painful for me to look at. This is obviously Halloween and though I wore this costume again two years later, there aren't any pictures of it and it was with a completely different group of people. So, despite this picture not having a date on it, I know this is the Saturday of Halloween weekend, 1998--exactly October 31. This photo was taken in St. Cloud, MN, at our friend Stephanie's place. We arrived Friday night and there were no Halloween activities that we participated in that evening. We simply went to this bar called The Red Carpet, made fun of all the people dressed up a day early (something I do all the time, if need be, now so as not to be hungover for work) and drank ourselves into oblivion. We always drank ourselves into oblivion on road trips. We did the same in our homebase of Mankato, but pulled out all the stops away from there, it was really quite something to witness, to be honest.
The reason I am posting this is because of a story that goes along with it. About a half hour after it was taken we were sitting in the St. Cloud franchise of The Green Mill. That particular Green Mill is attached to the St. Cloud VFW and there happened to be a large number of retired Korean War veterans wandering back and forth from the VFW into the restaurant as there was some sort of banquet going on. They were, obviously, giving me funny looks as they walked by, but they did understand it was Halloween and everyone else was dressed up for the most part, too. My friend whom we referred to as Roof, as in Roofless (ruthless), the guy with the shaved head behind me to the right in the picture, had a Holstein cow suit on, so I certainly wasn't the only one looking completely asinine. Most of the vets just sort of snickered or their eyes got real wide as they passed us and said "Happy Halloween, guys".
We had been there for a couple of hours and I kept looking at the men passing me in their dress uniforms. Many were highly decorated and more than a few had Purple Hearts. They fought for our country once and now they were older, many were frail beyond belief, some limped, one guy only had seven fingers. I had had several beers and I decided I need to thank at least one of these men. Every single one of the other people sitting with me protested. "You are in a fucking pink dress, Muji. Don't, it's disrespectful." they kept saying. ("Muji" was me, I had acquired that name my freshman year in college but the story is too long to go into here.) "That's the point," I argued "they fought for this country so I could do this." (I mentioned the beers, right?) After several minutes of this, I stood up and tapped one of the vets who happened to be talking to a buddy. He turned and took maybe a half-step back and said "Yes, sir?" I made no qualification about my dress or my obvious drunkenness and blurted, "Thanks for defending our country, I appreciate it very much." He stared at me for what seemed like a long time, but was probably less than ten seconds. "You in college, son?" he finally asked. "Yes." I replied. "Good, good for you," he continued, sort of laughing, "You know, I didn't get to go, grew up on a farm, my parents were real poor. I chose the service because it was a way out, not because I wanted to necessarily, but that was the option. This is one of the strangest conversations I've ever had, but you're very welcome." and with that he walked away (his buddy had checked out as soon as he saw me.) Back when he was young, everyone was required to serve at least two years in the military, remember, so I assumed he used the words "I chose the service" because he was a career man and proud of it, he had done something with his life.
I don't know why that conversation has stuck with me all these years, but it has. It was the first and last time I have thanked a veteran for defending the country. I can't even see the man's face in my head anymore but I can still hear his voice. If you read between the lines of what he was saying he was calling me spoiled brat, too, a fool for wearing a pink dress in public, Halloween or no Halloween.
Every time I look at this picture that exchange is the first thing I think about. I hardly remember any other specific details about the night at all, and it's not because I drank too much. What I do remember is telling, however. We went to a house party after we left the bar, guys kept "hilariously" grabbing my ass all night and at one point Roof threw up the kitchen sink. When we came home to Stephanie's apartment, my friend Travis and I decided to make a frozen pizza, that was Stephanie's roommate's and not ours, and promptly passed out. When we woke up the next morning, one of the burners on the range was on full heat and the pizza was in the oven (which we hadn't ever managed to turn on, hence the burner being on--it was an electric range so we didn't notice), upside down with the plastic wrap and label still in place. We had a good laugh about it only because of how dangerous it was and that we were unhurt, but looking back on it now, that old veteran knew more about me than I had thought. I was a ridiculous, drunken, irresponsible spoiled asshole in a pink dress. He said so, gently, but it was years before I knew what he really meant and more years still until I knew he had been right. I was an arrogant, disrespectful prick with an inflated sense of entitlement and nothing more for much of my time in college. I talk to exactly zero people I went to college with on any sort of regular basis and that isn't everyone else's fault. Sure, I'm absolved of any guilt for some of it, for the most, though, part fault lies with me, I just didn't see it. That old man was trying to tell me something, maybe, but I was too drunk to listen or, more importantly, care.
No comments:
Post a Comment