Swapping War Stories — Part 2

“So there I was…”  That is how “all” such tales begin.  Properly embellished where necessary to hold the attention of a kid who is unknowingly about to be told a tale that may or may not be true but which will undoubtedly be of interest enough to keep his or her mouth shut and which will be worth repeating in the school yard the next day, where it may well end up being embellished some more……..until eventually so-and-so’s grandpa had single handedly fought off an entire division of enemy soldiers using nothing but a coffee mug because they made the mistake of stumbling into his fox hole causing him to spill his last cup-o-joe on that dreary and cold drizzly night back in ’43.  That’s a war story, right?

Well, yeah.  But often our “war stories” are far less dramatic and usually downright mundane.  We can’t all be John Wayne or Humphrey Bogart in a well scripted movie.  …but we do tell our stories of the week, often between friends over coffee.

Discussing what happened that week while griping about and proposing solutions to the world’s ills is somewhat of a national pastime that some of us still take seriously.  A diner is still a great place to partake in such activities.  The nearly burnt coffee that is fresh in terms of geologic time and the typical food that earns the nasty nicknames it gets in a friendly setting complete with the buzzing glow of neon and worn newspapers seem to stimulate such conversations.

So there I was…….  Swapping the week’s “war stories” with my friends, Bill and Patric, when up walked an older lady who was likely in her 80’s at the time and who-very politely, proceeded to say, “Excuse me sir, I couldn’t help hearing some of your discussion and I was wondering if you had ever considered a career in radio or the ministry.”   Not really the sort of comment I am accustomed to getting.  So a little caught off guard, I replied, “Well no.  No I haven’t.  Why do you ask?”  She went on to tell me that what made her think of it is that she was enjoying the story, but also very much enjoying the way in which it was told.  She asked if I was familiar with “that young fellow” who does Prairie Home Companion on NPR by the name of Garrison Keillor.  She said my voice and method of telling a story reminded her of Garrison Keillor and that she really enjoyed it.  That young fellow.  Hmmm. Even then, I don’t think Mr Keillor would have considered himself a “young” fellow.   But all things are relative – and to her, he probably was very young indeed.  I do not consider myself anywhere near the caliber of Mr Keillor.  He is a truly great radio personality.  And I should know.  I love radio shows and have listened to and collected recordings of them for years….I have about 16,000 of them…including ALL of the known surviving episodes of Fibber McGee and Molly spanning a 30+ year period when they were on the air.  But again, all things are relative …and in today’s world where almost all the stations are owned by the same few companies and they all sound alike there is a true shortage of those on the air that anyone would really WANT to listen to.  But, the comparison seems, to me at least, an accolade that is more than I deserve.  In any case, I thanked her and she wandered back over to her table.

This of course, resulted in my friends proceeding to give me some ribbing and grief about it for several years and which I have not entirely heard the end of.  I was afterall the only 20 something in the group at the time whose voice could make 85 year old ladies want to make the effort to get up from their burnt coffee, bad bacon, and runny eggs to come say hello………so naturally being the good friends that they are, Pat and Bill tried to make my life miserable over it any chance they got.  I would have, of course, expected no less and I always return the favor when opportunities arise to do so.  It is part of the ritual of the swapping of stories in diners amongst friends.

Eventually even this tale of life drifted from conversation and was mostly forgotten….I say mostly, because it was not the last time I had heard something of the sort.  I had once asked for the current conditions at Merrill Field and was preparing to enter the pattern to land when the guy in the tower asked if I was the guy who did one of the local shows on the radio.  This, of course lead to a discussion with my flight instructor–who found all of it rather amusing…..but, alas, not amusing enough to give me my flight lessons for free.  So there I was…. writing a check.