I showed up at the gym yesterday, ready to tangle again with Jacobs Ladder, its newest chamber of horrors, among other things. Just as I hit the sidewalk, I passed an older couple getting out of their car. “Older” as in mid-to-late sixties, I suppose.
There was something different about him. Maybe it was that he moved with a straighter, more invigorated gait than other men his age. Maybe it was the intentionally-tight silver buzz haircut. Maybe it was the black Army t-shirt he wore – something similar to the one pictured here.
“Stop,” said that little voice inside my head. (You have one too… you may want to pay more attention.)
A bit out of character for me in places like this, I paused to ask: “Are you a veteran?”
His already-alert face lit up as he helped his wife to the curb. “Yes, I am,” he smiled. [click to continue…]
{ 0 comments }

