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M*A*S*H*ghanistan

February 22, 2008

My sister Sousa is over in Afghanistan, working on behalf of the U.S. Government to bring that country from the 7^th Century into the 21^st (and I’d guesstimate that they’re well into the late Middle Ages at this point.) She’s told me a little about life inside the perimeter, and it sounds a lot like M*A*S*H, that classic T.V. series about a mobile army surgical hospital during the Korean War (except that the show was mostly a comedy with moments of tragedy, while today’s reality reverses that ratio and adds a healthy dose of insanity.)

I respect my sister for her efforts, but I certainly do not envy her. Why experience the exhausting work, constant stress and occasional explosion when I can just hear about them via her sporadic e-mails? Speaking of which, here’s her latest, that— with her permission — I’d like to share with you:

We’re destressing on a snowy Thursday (our Friday) afternoon by creating haikus out of stale Valentine’s conversation hearts:

Smile, Angel. Be Mine.
In a fog, Cutie Pie.
It’s love, sure love, smile.

Heart of gold? Go girl.
Heat wave! Marry me! It’s love.
Melt my heart. Got love?

Wild life! Heat wave! Dream!
Only you, Lover Boy. Dream.
Cloud nine; chill out. Love.

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