I’ve always been able to find an excuse to meet with a buddy for a few beers. I’ve gone out to watch the big game, and celebrate birthdays, bachelor parties, engagement parties, and so on. Hell, I’ve even gone out for Groundhog’s Day parties a few times in my life (save that date – a week from Saturday). But last week was a new one, as I went out with my friend to see him off to war.
It’s not like I haven’t heard the incessant saber rattling over the past few months, and I knew the war on terror was far from over. But it was still quite a surprise for me when someone I know got the call to be deployed. It made me realize that this thing is probably going to happen soon, whether we like it or not. It seems like a foregone conclusion to our president, who sounds a lot like a little kid on a road trip asking, "Are we there yet? Are we there yet?" as we approach the deadline for Iraq’s compliance.
But even with the very real threat of war on the horizon, my short, American attention span allowed for me to get distracted from the grim actuality of world affairs. There’s Ben and J-Lo, the Miller Lite catfight commercial, and Kangaroo Jack. There’s Pete Townsend "researching" kiddie porn, Emmanuel Lewis sharing a house with Corey Feldman, and some Filipino dude who was killed by his own chicken in a cockfight (true story). In fact, on the very day President Bush announced the activation of 62,000 U.S. troops, the Daily News ran a cover story about that knucklehead from Joe Millionaire. So it’s no wonder I was surprised when I got a phone call in the middle of an NFL Playoff game from my friend who told me he was going to war.
It was strange not really knowing what to say to him, but the first thing that naturally came to mind was figuring out when we could get together. Uncle Sam was nice enough to give him a week’s notice, so I was able to get out and see him this past Thursday. We started off at one of his friend’s houses for a bite to eat and a couple beers. Everyone from the neighborhood was there, and it made for a lighthearted atmosphere – somewhat reminiscent of a graduation party, when a person gets ready to move onto a new stage in life. Everyone in the room knows that the guest of honor is going to come back a different man, but they’ll just be happy to see him come back.
From there we hit a local place in Staten Island, where he grew up. Everyone was shaking his hand and wishing him well as we proceeded to drink a respectable, but not ridiculous amount of beer (and one shot for good measure). All in all it was a good night, and I left with a casual "See you later." While it seems like more of a hopeful prayer than a proper send-off at this point, I’m indeed optimistic that it’ll ultimately ring true.
The toughest part was coming up with something to give him – because what DO you give the man who’s going off to war? After passing on the inscribed Rambo knife and the camouflaged hipflask, I stopped by Hand Mad (116 Washington St., Hoboken) and picked up a Moleskin Ruled Notebook. It fits perfectly in the breast pocket of the BDU (Battle Dress Uniform) – for a little extra protection. And I look forward to helping him write his memoir from the notes he takes on his experience.
The only thing I’m looking forward to more than that is the "Welcome Home" party we’ll be throwing in his honor. Meanwhile, I’ll certainly raise a glass to my buddy Basel and all of our men and women in uniform who are risking their lives to serve our country. Be strong, be smart, be safe – and we’ll all "see you later."
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