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Nancy came home a while ago and said there was an anti-war protest going on in Tullahoma.
I was stunned. I had always figgered that folks in my little neck of the woods were more patriotic and generally had better sense than that.
Then she dropped the other shoe: "They are veterans."
"The HELL you say!"
I figger that such goins-on can't be allowed to just slide by. Might get to be a habit. So I grabbed my Psyco-Vet T-shirt and and Vietnam Veteran cap and took off on Molly to check things out.
Sure enough, there were eight (nine if you count the little fluffy dog who I suspect to have been the mastermind of the group) of the rascals each of which had 2-5 signs proclaiming: "No Blood for Oil", "Veterans against the War.org." and related foolishness.
Figgered I'd have to join the counter-protest. Unfortunately there wasn't one, so I became it.
Wasn't just real sure how these kinda things are supposed to go, so I decided to begin with a rideby. Ever notice how hard it is to come up with a really good glob of spit when you really need one? Just had to make do. My pithy comments were apparently heard because I noticed the old lady of the group useing her hands to cover "little fluffy's" ears.
Following the rideby I parked my bike (making sure my PsycoVet tag on the front was clearly visible) and stood on the other side of the street making appropriate comments and gestures. Turned out that the only "veterans" of the group was one guy who claimed to have been in the peacetime Navy, and one who claimed to have been a Korean War vet. (medic) but then spoiled it by claiming he had seen A body once and what a life-changing event that was.
One by one they packed up their signs and left until I was left alone on the field. I, therefore, claim victory.
OK. So it wasn't a big deal. But when ya live in the country; you have to take what you can get.