by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist
This Saturday started off rainy on the island of Okinawa, but has fortunately cleared into a sunny and pleasant afternoon.
I have already made two trips across the highway to the Marine Corps Camp Foster - first to the PX where I did some unnecessary shopping while a friend got her toes and eyebrows attended to. I left there with two shirts, a book, and a large padded enveloped that I later used to send my grandson a package for his birthday. The second trip was to the post office at Camp Foster where I mailed off that package and a couple of cards to my daughter and daughter-in-law.
(Occasionally I get this spastic/palsy thing going with my hands that makes it almost impossible for me to write legibly, and today, unfortunately, was one of those days. I tried very hard, but the cards to the girls went out looking like the worst efforts of the quickest kid in the kindergarten class! Self diagnosis: too much caffeine.)
It was during the trip to the post office that I observed a gem of Marine Corps humor. A sign was posted next to the service counter that featured a drawing of a marine in full battle rattle along with the following statement: "Nobody goes postal like a marine!"
Tonight two friends and I are headed to Camp Foster for dinner at the Macaroni Grill followed by a play. A troupe of local players are putting on a post-modern production entitled 100 Lunches. I am really looking forward to that cultural outing.
Citizen Journalist
This Saturday started off rainy on the island of Okinawa, but has fortunately cleared into a sunny and pleasant afternoon.
I have already made two trips across the highway to the Marine Corps Camp Foster - first to the PX where I did some unnecessary shopping while a friend got her toes and eyebrows attended to. I left there with two shirts, a book, and a large padded enveloped that I later used to send my grandson a package for his birthday. The second trip was to the post office at Camp Foster where I mailed off that package and a couple of cards to my daughter and daughter-in-law.
(Occasionally I get this spastic/palsy thing going with my hands that makes it almost impossible for me to write legibly, and today, unfortunately, was one of those days. I tried very hard, but the cards to the girls went out looking like the worst efforts of the quickest kid in the kindergarten class! Self diagnosis: too much caffeine.)
It was during the trip to the post office that I observed a gem of Marine Corps humor. A sign was posted next to the service counter that featured a drawing of a marine in full battle rattle along with the following statement: "Nobody goes postal like a marine!"
Tonight two friends and I are headed to Camp Foster for dinner at the Macaroni Grill followed by a play. A troupe of local players are putting on a post-modern production entitled 100 Lunches. I am really looking forward to that cultural outing.
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