With Memorial Day right around the corner, that most special week of weeks begins. That's right, it's once again Fleet Week and the sailors are
descending upon us as you read this.
As much as I look forward to spotting and chatting up the Navy Men (it is my patriotic duty
after all), the past few years have proven somewhat disheartening.
Each year, I am a little older, yet the sailors reappear frozen in
their early twenties and even if my heart didn't belong to another, cougar isn't a personality trait I'd welcome.
I'll always have the memory of dancing to Johnny Cash in that most vile backroom of The Village Idiot with members of a crew we befriended while to the South, the Twin Towers still
sparkled with late night office lights when we spilled out on the sidewalk in search of pizza and the much more subdued beers with a group of frankly, terrified, young sailors who were going to be deployed to The Persian Gulf a couple of years later.
Enjoy the city this week, Sailors. Rest assured, you'll be bringing a smile to this
thirtysomething's face.
Labels: Aging is a bitch, Fleet Week, Fun with The Navy, Sailors