Marv’s Column
Traders Guide of Texas is happy to report that we’ve ported over our favorite columnist, Marv Myers, from paper to the Internet. The following is Mr. Myers’ first online column for Traders Guide of Texas. Mr. Myers is a resident of Holly Lake Ranch and a Korean War veteran. This article © 2006 Marv Myers.
By M.L. “Jimmy” Myers
HOLLY LAKE RANCH, Texas — Who says we can’t go back home?
The !@#$%^&* I can’t.
Ah, if only we could relive the good old days: nostalgia, yesteryear, way back when, the way we were etc., etc., etc.
If we could only revisit the people, places and things just as we remembered them, would not that be great?
No.
Please take it from me, you do not want to go there.
Still, most of us are curious, this writer included.
Can we go back after all?
That’s why we have reunions, why we go back to the old home place, to the old neighborhood, to the old high school, back to where we marched down Main Street with the band or where we fought a war in a foreign land.
The question is whether it is better to leave things in our minds just the way we remember them or go back to where we know things will be different, even though we’re in denial.
It’s is an interesting question.
We may hear a song, smell a fragrance, see a picture, taste an unfamiliar food or reach out and slap someone and, bam, in an instant we are transported back in time, willingly or not. This subject was brought home to me, almost too vividly, this past weekend.
I had an opportunity to touch base with Marine buddies from wars past and present for a bit of jarhead camaraderie.
How much fun could that be? I thought.
Niche market
The occasion was an annual gathering sponsored by a distributor of aftermarket U.S. Marine Corps specialties in Oklahoma City called, appropriately enough, Sgt. Grit’s.
The occasion is called, I kid you not, the Annual GritTogether.
There really is a self-proclaimed Sgt. Grit, owner of the establishment, a.k.a. Sgt. Grit’s.
Sgt. Grit even has a Web site, called www.grunt.com.
By now you’re thinking I’m making this up, right? Wrong.
If in any doubt, please be my guest and check them out.
Their catalog shows 134 pages of Marine Corps stuff, from toy marine soldiers to ladies’ lingerie — for lady marines, I assume. (Look under the heading “Grit’s Secret.”)
For the macho types, you can even pick up a tattoo. (Temporary type guaranteed not to hurt those poggie-bait Marines in the audience.)
The best part is that it is not necessary to have served in the Marine Corps, had a relative in the Marine Corps or even be able to whistle “Stars and Stripes Forever” in order to purchase from Sgt. Grit.
A current valid credit card will suffice nicely, and you will not have to recite the Marine Corps’ “11 General Orders for Sentries.”
Model of efficiency
The Annual GritTogether starts promptly at 10 o’clock and winds through the company’s offices and warehouse, where you can pick up an order pad, record stock numbers and grab your necessities in less than 10 minutes out back near the hotdog stand.
Sgt. Grit and company are nothing if not efficient.
Yours truly didn’t need to hear a bugle sound “Chow Call” by being the first in line, just like in the old days.
After lunch I decided to mill around and talk to some of the old salts in attendance. Maybe I would see some of my old Marine buddies with whom I served in the 1st Marine Division in Korea.
I mean one actually does have thoughts at a time like this, doesn’t one?
Hey, what the heck. It could happen, couldn’t it? (Not likely.)
True Grit in Vietnam
For starters, how many names would be recallable and how would I recognize them anyway after 55 years?
On the inside cover of the Sgt. Grit catalog is a picture of Sgt. Grit with background information detailing his period of service in ‘Nam.
For a moment I had the urge to approach Sgt. Grit and share war stories until I realized that I was on my way to Korea with the Marine 5th Replacement Draft when he was born in 1950. That might have made for a disconnect.
After a couple of hours relearning Marine Corps slang and how to construct a simple sentence using only four-letter words, I decided my trip back to the future was more like “Mission Impossible.”
So, not waiting to sing a few stanzas of “Semper Fidelis,” I decided to split until next year’s GritTogether.
Not that it wasn’t fun; it was.
I enjoyed every @#$%^&*()_+ minute of it.
C ration
The great mystery for me was that I came for camaraderie, not to actually buy anything, so you can imagine my chagrin to find myself short one C note by the time I left.
How could I have possibly spent $100 at an event that was to be totally free?
Of course, I did purchase a couple of items designed for the not-as-lean, not-as-mean marine such as a cane (with the Marine Corps seal on the handle), a necklace for “da wife” (naturally with Marine Corps emblem), a money clip (don’t ask what for) with Marine Corps emblem, a zippered scratch pad and business-card holder (and Marine Corps emblem), a couple of T-shirts and bumper stickers (with Marine Corps emblems, naturally).
Perhaps it’s a good thing that I left when I did instead of searching for an ATM.
PHOTO: Cpl. Jimmy has been to the candy store.
I suspected there might be a recruiting officer in the multitude taking applications for old salts interested in joining a recon mission somewhere near Matamoras on the Rio Grande border between Texas and Mexico. (Sounds like good duty to me.)
The Marine Corps actually encourages senior citizens to “re-up.”
Why else would they endorse slogans such as “Once a Marine, always a Marine” and “Unless you’re dead, you’re not a former (or ex) Marine.”
Hey, man, I still qualify.
Where the !@#$%^&*() is my !@#$%^y&u* M-1 rifle?
One more thing
P.S.: There was this neat cover (baseball cap) I took a fancy to while at Camp Grit. It was really sharp and quite reasonable.
Of course, it had the Marine Corps emblem on it. You know what? They already have my credit card on file. You know what else? After da wife goes to bed I may just go online and order that !@#$%^ thing.
I could always claim that old Doc Earl gave me a prescription to keep from me contracting sun cancer on my bald pate.
Doc would back me up.
I mean he would, wouldn’t he? Hey, that’s legit.
Until next time, this is Cpl. M.L. “Jimmy” Myers, USMC, here at command central, signing off.
Over and out. Semper fi.
Copy that in the affirmative, will you mate?
