I Slept It Off at the Miramar Brig

Bless me, blog readers, for I’ve done sinned. And I deserve to forfeit my military ID card.

It begins the beguine this way every time, with weensy transgressions. Friday’ll roll around with its usual hallo Sailor. And I’ll be facedown, stone cold, sprawling the Miramar brig like an octopus. A penny pressed to my forehead and an invisible elf striking my head with a pickaxe.

This beguine began with a herd of birds, on my usual drive home, up San Diego’s 15 freeway. And from the cozy confines of m’coupe, I saw me a flock of fowl. Black and majestic. In perfect formation. And they all turned together. A buncha robots. Equal distance apart, some smarter feller might mutter equidistant. The bizarre thing? Every single driver ’rounds me slowed to gawk ’em. A pack, a division, a flock of blackbirds. Us and them roosters.

I drove closer, the birds flew closer. Everyone’s closer. Like a Christmas hugging contest. With a sudden screw-this, they broke formation. And I saw they’s not birds. But those BLUE ANGELS! They were in town. And I’d been had. What kinda Sailor was I anyway?

I felt sheepish. So much so I shoulda been drivin’ a Dodge Ram. I slid down in my car seat. Feeling sheeply this way brought out my inner, and outer, vulnerability. (Hold me.) Like someone was gonna run clippers over m’soul. And call me shorn ‘enuff. I would deserve that there shearing. And then the shearer would knit a sweater (size extra-tiny) out of my meager body/eyebrow/brain hair. Wait, jes’ hold up, can you even shave a hairbrain?

Members from the 3rd Marine Aircraft Wing Band perform at the 2012 Marine Corps Air Station Miramar Air Show, Oct. 14.

It’s like I just spent the weekend in the Miramar Brig. Only figuratively though. Not literally. I hadda eat some serious crow with this here post. Those Blue Angels’re something else. I should know, I’ve seen ’em everywhere. One even jumped on my lunch table and stole a french fry from me today! Fighter jocks. . .

8 thoughts on “I Slept It Off at the Miramar Brig”

  1. I read a fact on Artie Shaw. His real name is Art but his manager convinced him to change his name to Artie because Art Shaw sound like a sneeze. But your post today was above average. Good job. And funny.

  2. Well, your coupe link was a disappointment. I was sure it would lead to the…

    See what a nice image I have of you? Dashing, debonair, full dress (blue or white), a USN LT! Oh, well, the realities of pay scales suck.

    First time I saw the Angels was ’56. Hey, they were yankin’-n-bankin’ in a craft I’d been spending one weekend a month working on! Man, the goose bumps were getting goose bumps.

    BTW, fun post.

  3. Two Ferrari sightings in my past. True stories.

    First one, I was commuting in L.A. County, going home, on my Honda 450 cc motorcycle. I spotted an unusual looking (I’m not originally from So. Cal.) car, waiting for the light. I pulled up beside it, and Wow! It was a Ferrari! Then I blipped my throttle and left it behind, never to be seen again.

    Second one, I was eating outside a small restaurant in an Orange County strip mall. Saw a car back out (one move) from a parking space and leave. Immediately, a Ferrari pulled into the space. Partway. It took the driver three tries to get into a normal-sized parking space, using a lot of cutting and filling. Ate at that little food spot many times, never saw anyone else have such a terrible time trying to park any size/maneuverability car.

    Ferrari. Ehh.

Comments are closed.