thedrifter
02-24-08, 09:59 AM
Semper Fuzzball
Press-Enterprise, CA -
DAN BERNSTEIN
It has been three years since a young woman recounted for me the number of times the U.S. military rebuffed her because the antennae on her skull-butterfly tattoo strayed above a regulation shirt collar.
This may have been the heyday of recruiter concern for the cosmetic. Quotas, it seemed, filled themselves.
But as the war slogged on, we came to hear our military described as "stretched" and accepting of a more uneducated, unhealthy and unholy (as measured by criminal histories) soldier. Recruiters may now even pretend not to notice the occasional antennae on the occasional female nape.
It is hard for the mere layman to accurately assess our state of readiness. But over the last few days, my wife and I have concluded this state is far worse than we imagined.
The U.S. Marine Corps is trying to recruit our dog.
The glossy packet, addressed to "Seymour Bernstein," advises our Old English sheepdog, "The Future Of Our Nation Is In The Hands Of A Select Few."
Hands. We have never tried to conceal the fact that Seymour doesn't have them. That the Marines seem prepared to make allowances leaves us stunned but thrilled. We try not to pressure Seymour, but who wouldn't want their dog to amount to something? Seymour Bernstein -- Best of Corps! Our imaginations run wild.
And if they overlook paws, surely they'll find a way around his thin academic record. Though the letter begins: "Dear High School Senior," we are heartened that it does not say, "Dear High School Graduate."
Seymour never gets mail. The only thing he has ever signed up for, through us, is a valid dog license. But the U.S. Marine Corps tracked him down. We can only conclude this correspondence represents a bona fide, targeted recruitment drive from the halls of UC Riverside to the shores of Salton Sea. With a powerful message.
"The Marines . . . will stretch your physical and mental skills to the ultimate limit, while building the self-discipline and self-confidence that will stay with you." Free food, too.
Just filling out a slender info card could earn Seymour a watch, flashlight or wristband.
Just as I was getting used to the idea of Seymour making "an extraordinary contribution" by "protecting our freedom," I heard from a friend whose sons went to the Naval Academy.
"I suspect Seymour may have trouble with the pull-ups," he cautioned. "It's a Marine thing. He may prefer to inquire with the Army. They run less, too."
This has burst my bubble. No knock on the Army. I simply prefer the Marine look. But pull-ups? With no hands? And just one wristband?
If the Marines are truly stretched and desperate, I assume they'll contact Seymour again, signaling a willingness to make further allowances. Even if they don't, we'll always treasure the image of Seymour Bernstein, USMC. The Few. The Proud. The Fuzzy.
Reach Dan Bernstein at 951-368-9439 or dbernstein@PE.com
Ellie
Press-Enterprise, CA -
DAN BERNSTEIN
It has been three years since a young woman recounted for me the number of times the U.S. military rebuffed her because the antennae on her skull-butterfly tattoo strayed above a regulation shirt collar.
This may have been the heyday of recruiter concern for the cosmetic. Quotas, it seemed, filled themselves.
But as the war slogged on, we came to hear our military described as "stretched" and accepting of a more uneducated, unhealthy and unholy (as measured by criminal histories) soldier. Recruiters may now even pretend not to notice the occasional antennae on the occasional female nape.
It is hard for the mere layman to accurately assess our state of readiness. But over the last few days, my wife and I have concluded this state is far worse than we imagined.
The U.S. Marine Corps is trying to recruit our dog.
The glossy packet, addressed to "Seymour Bernstein," advises our Old English sheepdog, "The Future Of Our Nation Is In The Hands Of A Select Few."
Hands. We have never tried to conceal the fact that Seymour doesn't have them. That the Marines seem prepared to make allowances leaves us stunned but thrilled. We try not to pressure Seymour, but who wouldn't want their dog to amount to something? Seymour Bernstein -- Best of Corps! Our imaginations run wild.
And if they overlook paws, surely they'll find a way around his thin academic record. Though the letter begins: "Dear High School Senior," we are heartened that it does not say, "Dear High School Graduate."
Seymour never gets mail. The only thing he has ever signed up for, through us, is a valid dog license. But the U.S. Marine Corps tracked him down. We can only conclude this correspondence represents a bona fide, targeted recruitment drive from the halls of UC Riverside to the shores of Salton Sea. With a powerful message.
"The Marines . . . will stretch your physical and mental skills to the ultimate limit, while building the self-discipline and self-confidence that will stay with you." Free food, too.
Just filling out a slender info card could earn Seymour a watch, flashlight or wristband.
Just as I was getting used to the idea of Seymour making "an extraordinary contribution" by "protecting our freedom," I heard from a friend whose sons went to the Naval Academy.
"I suspect Seymour may have trouble with the pull-ups," he cautioned. "It's a Marine thing. He may prefer to inquire with the Army. They run less, too."
This has burst my bubble. No knock on the Army. I simply prefer the Marine look. But pull-ups? With no hands? And just one wristband?
If the Marines are truly stretched and desperate, I assume they'll contact Seymour again, signaling a willingness to make further allowances. Even if they don't, we'll always treasure the image of Seymour Bernstein, USMC. The Few. The Proud. The Fuzzy.
Reach Dan Bernstein at 951-368-9439 or dbernstein@PE.com
Ellie