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Old farts with attitudes
If I could, I'd enlist today and help my country track down
those responsible for killing thousands of innocent people in New York City and
Washington, DC
But, I'm over 50 now and the Armed Forces say I'm too old to track down
terrorists. You can't be older than 35 to join the military.
They've got the whole thing backwards. Instead of sending 18-year-olds off to
fight, they ought to take us old guys. You shouldn't be able to join until
you're at least 35.
For starters: Researchers say 18-year-olds think about sex every 10 seconds.
Old guys only think about sex a couple of times a day, leaving us more than
28,000 additional seconds per day to concentrate on the enemy. Young guys
haven't lived long enough to be cranky, and a cranky soldier is a dangerous
soldier.
If we can't kill the enemy we'll complain them into submission. "My back hurts!"
"I'm hungry!" "Where's the remote control?"
An 18-year-old hasn't had a legal beer yet and you shouldn't go to war until
you're at least old enough to legally drink. An average old guy, on the other
hand, has consumed 126,000 gallons of beer by the time he's 35 and a jaunt
through the desert heat with a backpack and M-60 would do wonders for the old
beer belly.
An 18-year-old doesn't like to get up before 10 a.m. Old guys get up early (to
pee).
If old guys are captured we couldn't spill the beans because we'd probably
forget where we put them. In fact, name, rank, and serial number would be a real
brainteaser. Boot camp would actually be easier for old guys.
We're used to getting screamed and yelled at and we actually like soft food.
We've also developed a deep appreciation for guns and rifles. We like them
almost better than naps.
They could lighten up on the obstacle course however. I've been in combat and
didn't see a single 20-foot wall with rope hanging over the side, nor did I ever
do any pushups after training. I can hear the D rill Sergeant now, "Get down and
give me...er...one." And the running part is kind of a waste of energy. I've
never seen anyone outrun a bullet.
An 18-year-old has the whole world ahead of him. He's still learning to shave,
to actually carry on a conversation, to wear pants without the top of the butt
crack showing and the boxer shorts sticking out, to learn that a pierced tongue
catches food particles, and that a 200-watt speaker in the back seat of a Honda
Accord can rupture an eardrum.
All great reasons to keep our sons at home and to learn a little more about life
before sending them off to a possible death, let us old guys track down those
dirty rotten cowards who attacked our hearts on September 11.
The last thing the enemy would want to see right now is a couple of million old
farts with attitudes.
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