Little Things Happen

When I was seventeen little things

happened to me. There was this

Vietnam thing going on which I

knew nothing about. Why should

I care about stuff happening half

a world away?

Kennedy was assassinated in

Dallas last year, and although

that shocked and saddened

me, nothing in my hometown,

St. Louis, seemed particularly

out of the ordinary.

The Ozark Theater continued to

show movies. The Tasty Freeze

down the street kept dispensing

soft-serve ice cream. Church bells

at Holy Redeemer rang true and

on time every Sunday morning.

The same old shit kept happening

on any given day which bored the

living hell out of me.

The pack of Lucky Strikes tucked

into my socks, and free bourbon

and Coke at Dennis McGuire’s

house on Friday night kept me

from going ape-shit with the ho-

hum doldrums of my teenage

routine.

When mom and dad split-up a

couple of years ago, that was it,

the last straw for me.

I swore to never trust or believe

in anyone older than me—

especially that knuckle-headed

counselor at high school who

called me into his office to inform

me that I would not be a senior

that year. And that I would have

to take my junior year over again.

That’s bullshit, I told him. I won’t

do it. You can’t make me. Oh yes,

you will, he demanded firmly. Due

to failing unacceptable grades,

you will repeat.

That’s when I stood up abruptly

on my own two feet and flipped

that numb-nutted counselor the

Bird as I turned and stormed out

of school never again to return.

A few months later I joined the

Army. Funny how one spontaneous

gesture and a few select defiant

words today seem so petty and trite.

But actually, it was a little thing

such as that which forever changed

the world for me.

Over time, however, I did learn

more about Vietnam. Somehow

from then on, I managed to kept

my big mouth shut and my fingers

clasped firmly behind my back.

And fortunately for me, rather

than a treacherous tour in Viet-

nam or a stretch in the brig,

Uncle Sam sent me overseas

to Germany instead.

The stout German beer over there
seemed to help for awhile.

Chris Hanch 8-13-18