If I could, I'd enlist today and
help my track down Saddam and his Republican Guard ...
... But, I'm over 40 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 that 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
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 Drill Sergeant now, "Get down and give
me...err...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.
These are 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 in Iraq. The last thing the enemy would want
to see right now is a couple of million old farts with
Bill, Narberth, Pa.