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One of the rituals the grandson and I
observe when he stays with us is having breakfast at the Donut
Place. We share a circular counter with the donut clerisy, a
bunch of regulars, mostly retired guys, who discuss the days
events. This morning's conversation was dominated by a guy
wearing one of those undershirts that only Italians and old men wear -
you know, the ones with no sleeves. Here are the points
made this morning.
- ''I don't know why the hell we have troops over there anyway. We don't need them. Everyone we kill is by plane.''
- ''The only people making money in this war are lawyers.''
- ''We should never put ground troops anywhere anymore. Don't need to. It's just ridiculous. ''
- ''I sure wouldn't want to be Saddam's lawyer.''
No, he wasn't Steny Hoyer. I don't know who he was.
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