The Job Of Listening
When Did I Get Old? by Derrick Dove.
That sent me down a rabbit hole of songs about getting older that did an excellent job of depressing me. Songs like It Was A Very Good Year by Frank Sinatra. Like A Rock by Bob Seger. Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini by Brian Hyland.
I was already feeling down, so it was the wrong time for my buddy to call with a sad story. He asked me how I was doing but it was obvious he wanted to talk. Which left me the job of listening.
I've told you his father used to be a big deal. He had been a General in the Army. In charge of, well, whatever Generals are in charge of. I wouldn't know because I never served myself. I wanted to, but, well, you know... bone spurs.
Actually, when I came of age just after the Vietnam War ended there was no longer a draft, and if there was one thing I had always heard about the Army it was to never volunteer.
Slim's father was old, his Army days behind him. In his time he probably commanded thousands of men, but those days were long gone. The years had taken him to a place where it was doubtful he could command a Boy Scout troop, much less his faculties.
“Some days are better than others,” my buddy told me.
This call was about one of the others.
Slim had gotten a call from his mother. She was frantic. His father was missing. So was their car. My buddy spent the next few hours driving around the neighborhood searching for him. Every street. Every alley. Every ditch. But no luck. Then his mother called again.
When Slim got to the military base his father once commanded, he found him dressed in his old Army uniform. It was a bit tight around the belly, but surprisingly it still fit.
Somewhere along the line his father had lost twenty years. He showed up at the military base he used to command ready to kick ass or chew bubble gum. Fortunately, the Army has plenty of bubble gum. The guard at the gate recognized the name and the commanding officer he reported to recognized the man, so they kept an eye on him while calls were made. They were in the middle of showing him some changes that had been made to the base when my buddy showed up. His father didn't recognize him.
"Here's your ride, General," the soldier in charge of watching him said. "He'll take you home."
Slim opened the car door so his father could get in.
"You're out of uniform, soldier" his father grunted.
"Yes, sir," my buddy answered.
Gave him a salute.
And drove him home.
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