LIAR

It occurs that I have not been telling many lies on the blog. I don't like to lie because I used to tell lies on every subject you can think of and now that I have finally reached the end of adolescence at the age of 60 and 11/12 I feel very ashamed about being such a liar. I think I had some sort of mental condition. Why? Well, when I was in Vietnam, I had a very interesting and important job but because it had to do with winning the hearts and minds of the civilian population of that country, I was not supposed to talk about it, so I started writing these letters to my dad about these battles I was in and how we were killing the enemy right up in the wire. Now that was BS. They didn't have too many fights like that and I certainly wasn't in them. Whats more, my father had been a big shot in the Army and he could find out what I was doing (at that time, working in a motor pool) so why would I tell him I was being John Wayne? Fucking liar is why. This has a lot to do with insecurity and now that I've reached my young adulthood, I'll probably do much better. Meanwhile, back in the jungle, I had talked my way into the Civil Affairs detachment and had lots of real adventures like people have in thrillers. Back in the States; I read recently where this army officer retires and says the "The Gadsden Project was the most successful Civil Affairs thing ever in the history of the Army and the high point of his career and what all. OK, fine General Bubble Head, but you were just the C/O of the fire base where the actual people who pulled off the mission came from and went back to when we got tipped off that Viet Cong had put a bounty on our heads of 5K. (Actual money for actual head) How did they know? We had big signs on our bumpers say "Civil Affairs" so we can go in special places in aid of winning hearts and minds and buy stuff for building things on the local economy so the Army could have deniability. But you couldn't write to the folks at home and tell them about that, so I just wrote poetry to girls back there in hope of starting some fires for my return. It didn't occur that I might get damaged and fall through a spiral of terrible rest stops; each one causing me to give up some important memory or bit of pride. That's what happened though and since I had been an insecure liar most all my life, I had very little to start over on. Well I've been pretty straight the last 25 years except for the pill addiction, but I got out of that by my self. You know life is really fucked up when you do not have close friends and you are the sort who needs them. All I wanted to do here, was tell a clever lie like "Most weathermen are left handed" or "Fuel Injected Cars have the gas filler on the driver's side." and then go on to something else. Instead, I had to write a revealing essay about what a weirdo I am which is not likely to gain me any friends. It's the truth though.