REAR GUARD?

 

Would you like to know how to keep me from enjoying a meal? Simple. If I'm part of a group having dinner together, let me know that you'll be there. Then get there late. While everybody else is eating and talking, I've got one eye and half of my attention on the door, waiting for you to get there.

I've never been in the military.  Should I have been? Good question. I never felt it was necessary to do so to serve my country, but it may have given me discipline I didn't get otherwise. But if I did go knowing what I do now, there's no question which branch I'd go to. I'll give you a hint - it rhymes with Most Lard.

Honestly, most of the time I'm fine with not being a vet. Since neither my grandfather (too young for WWI, too old for WWII) and my dad were in the armed services either, that did not give much encouragement. I did think of joining the military after armed services day in high school. It took 5-10 minutes for my Dad to discourage that idea. And I can count the ideas my dad discouraged on the fingers of one hand.

Nevertheless, I have the mentality of a rear guard. I want to make sure everybody is safe. I would be the border collie who's chasing the last of the sheep to make sure they don't get separated from the flock. (Or would I be more of an Old English Sheep Dog?)

As I was preparing to write this blog, I realized that several of my favorite TV episodes dealt with one character protecting another character. Such as (spoiler alerts) when the Sweathogs were planning on getting into a rumble and Kotter and Vice-Principle Michael Woodman showed up in street thug clothes to try to get them out of it. Or a Bob Newhardt story where it slipped out he was the shrink for an elected official, and one politician admitted to being that patient ... even though it wasn't him.

Does anybody else have that same mindset?