Women proudly fight, too
Twenty minutes ago, Pete Hegseth was opining on heavy duty things like congestion pricing. Now, this Douglas MacArthur-lite TV talker’s commanding the greatest smartest toughest army in captivity.
He is anti ladies in the armed forces. OK. I personally prefer them in Dior. But in a 1973 North American Newspaper Alliance, one former teacher said: “I load and unload at the Brooklyn Army Terminal. I’d met a WAC who praised the service and today — patriotic and proud — I also wear that uniform. I’m now in the reserves. Wanting an education, I figured best way’s through the government.”
A sergeant, she works on hundred-foot tugboats, overhauls engines on ships and still retains femininity. Nails polished, hair done, full makeup, fragrance. Works in gloves when possible.
“I carry myself as a lady. I’m not one of those would-be guys. I am not women’s lib. I enjoy having my door opened for me, even when I’m in uniform. I want co-workers to watch their language, and if a table needs wiping I’ll wipe it. Equality’s only in the work. Also, if our work’s the same we should be paid the same. I’ve dated fellows in and out of the service and a man will treat you as you want to be treated.”
A PFC First Class mechanic, whose vehicle-oriented family collects antique cars, carries herself as a lady, and drives trucks. She’s qualified “for the 5-tonner. Guys like to get away from their wives so they got hyper tense when I showed up. I took care of them flat out. Pinned their ears back. They asked why was I there. My standard answer? ‘Why not?’ ”
Part-time Army Reserve occupation allows learning skills in multiple fields while living home, and only one weekend a month plus one two-year period to the service. Their thought being if it was good enough for Ulysses S. Grant, George Washington, George Patton, John Pershing — it’s good enough for them.
So Supreme General Hegseth: Honey, hold your horses. Some of them might be mares.
No more monkey business
Thinking of Jane Goodall whom we just lost. Reminds me of a meeting we once had. It was 11 a.m. in a downtown hotel. She was prompt. We were alone. We talked chimps. I mean, what else? Not a subject I’m too familiar with. Speaking of frisky animals, she told me how “We must be custodians of this planet.”
She said how “one semi-aggressive type got a little too frisky with me. It was in the ’60s.” Yeah. So, having had adults try similar moves in my time, I asked what did she do? I guessed she didn’t smack him.
Her answer: “I didn’t let it get too far.”
Can’t win ’em all
When Moses came down from Mount Sinai carrying the two tablets, his brother Aaron asked: “Well, did God agree to the changes?” And Moses said: “He bought 10 of them. But, I’m sorry — ‘thou shalt not commit adultery’ is still in.”
That time of year
’Tis autumn. When a young man stops smelling the roses and looks elsewhere. It’ll be a gallon of wine and an In-N-Out burger. No? How’s satin sheets and, like Diddy who’s just been on trial, baby oil in a suite at a hotel. No? How’s a cheapo box of chocolates and gold chains. If all else fails, just follow the wannabe 11-year-old mayor who maybe wants to legalize outdoor roadway sex. That is, only if the light is green — which he is.
May someone tell him it’s time to see a doctor when the water in his lungs and the water on his knee converge and he floods his pants. Oy!
Only in New York, kids, only in New York.