the vet's home

I got another invitation to be admitted to the Veteran's Home today. The last one came on my birthday, and asked if I was prepared to be admitted now, or would like to defer the opportunity.

Since the closest I have ever come to serving in the armed forces was when I used to drink Shirley Temples at the VFW bar with my granddad, I decided to defer. Besides, I was six at the time - and even though I admit to suffering a little post-traumatic- shock, from being forced to listen to repeated rounds of "Rhinestone Cowboy" and "Hot Child in the City" on the jukebox, eventually I got over it. Furthermore, it took the VA three decades to hunt me down, and when they did, they didn't even offer me free tickets to a pancake breakfast or anything - just straight to the home for me.

This information was a bit disturbing.

So you can imagine how startled I was to receive today's news. Today the mailman dropped off my enrollment papers. They said I had been approved to begin the process of being accepted into the home. But here is the best part: I don't even have to enroll myself. According to the forms, all I need to do is supply the name and address of myself OR the person I would like to have admitted.

Wow.

Had I known that hanging out at the VFW eating Slim Jims and breathing in second hand smoke was going to have THIS kind of payoff, I would have asked to go more often.

Needless to say, I have an entire collection of people that I am asking to have admitted: 1) a certain snarky blogger 2) the neighbor with dogs that bark at 3 am 3)the entire cast of Jersey Shore . . . I am going to need extra postage.

Do not get on my bad side until next Monday - that's the deadline for returning this thing.