Some of you may get a charge out of this:


The Commandant of the Marine Corps was General Al Gray, a crusty old 'Field
Marine.' He loved his Marines and often slipped into the mess hall wearing
a faded old field jacket without any rank insignia on it. He would go
through the chow line just like a private. (In this way, assured of being
given the same rations that the lowest enlisted man received. And, woe be
it to the mess officer if the food was found to be 'unfit in quality or
quantity.)

Upon becoming Commandant, General Gray was expected to do a great deal of
'formal entertaining,' fancy dinner parties in full dress blue uniform.
Now, the general would rather have been in the field eating cold 'C-rats'
around a fighting hole with a bunch of young 'hard charging' Marines. But
the General knew his duty, and as a Marine he was determined to do it to
the best of his ability.

During these formal parties a detachment of highly polished Marines from
'Eighth and Eye' (Marine Barracks located at 8th and I Streets in
Washington, D.C., home of the Silent Drill Team) were detailed to assume
the
position of 'parade rest' at various intervals around the ballroom where
the festivities were being held.

At some point during one of these affairs, a very refined, big-chested,
blue-haired lady picked up a tray of pastry and went around the room
offering confections to the guests. When she noticed these Marines in
dress
blues, standing like sculptures all around the room, she was moved with
admiration.

She knew that several of these men were fresh from our victory in Desert
Storm. She made a beeline for the closest Lance Corporal, drew near him and
asked, 'Would you like pastry young man?'

The young Marine snapped to 'attention' and replied, 'I don't eat that
****,
Ma'am.' Just as quickly, he resumed the position of 'parade rest.' His
gaze remained fixed on some distant point throughout the exchange.

The fancy lady was completely taken aback! She blinked, her eyes widened,
her mouth dropped open. So startled was she that she immediately began to
doubt what she had heard. In a quivering voice she asked, 'W-W-What did
you
say?'

The Marine snapped back to the position of 'attention' (like the arm of a
mousetrap smacking it's wooden base). Then he said, 'I don't eat that ****,
Ma'am.' And just as smartly as before, back to the position of 'parade
rest' he went.

This time, there was no doubt. The fancy lady immediately became incensed,
and felt insulted. After all, here she was an important lady, taking the
time to offer something nice to this enlisted man (well below her station
in
life), and he had the nerve to say THAT to HER! She exclaimed, 'Well! I
never...!'

The lady remembered that she had met 'that military man in charge of all
these 'soldiers' earlier. She spotted General Gray from across the room.
He had a cigar clenched between his teeth and a camouflaged canteen cup
full of bourbon in his left hand. He was talking to a group of 1st and 2nd
Lieutenants. So blue haired lady went straight over to the Commandant and
interrupted.

'General, I offered some pastry to that young man over there. And, do you
know what he told me?'

General Gray cocked his eyebrow, took the cigar out of his mouth and said,
'Well, no Ma'am, I don't.'

The lady took in a deep breath, confident that she was adequately
expressing
with her body language her considerable rage and indignation. As she wagged
her head in cadence with her words, and she paused between each word for
effect, 'He said, 'I - don't- eat - that - **** - Ma'am!''

The lieutenants were in a state of near apoplexy A couple of them choked
back chuckles, and turned their heads to avoid having their smirks
detected.


The next thought that most of them had was, 'God, I hope it wasn't one of
MY
Marines!' and the color left their faces.

General Gray wrinkled his brow, cut his eyes in the direction of the
lieutenants, put his free hand to his chin and muttered a subdued, 'Hummm.
Which one did you say it was Ma'am?,' the General asked.

'That tall sturdy one right over there near the window, General,' the
woman
said with smug satisfaction.

One of the lieutenants began to look sick and put a hand on the wall for
support.

General Gray, seemed deep in thought, hand still to his chin, wrinkled
brow.
Suddenly, he looked up and his expression changed to one indicating he had
made a decision. He looked the fancy lady right in the eyes and said,
'Well, **** him! Don't give him any.'

--
John H

"All decisions are the result of binary thinking."