Chapter 10: Love Is Its Own Reward
A group of hikers passing a hillbilly’s cabin smiled as they saw the owner reclining in a rocking chair on the porch. They noticed his wife going into the house via the front, and only door. A few seconds later they saw a wildcat leap through the open window.
They rushed up to the mountaineer. “Do something quick!” someone shouted. “A wildcat just leaped into your house and your wife is in there.”
“That’s his tough luck,” said the hillbilly. “I never did like wildcats, anyway.”
So, Neelam, meditate a little about yourself. Why is this poor man behaving as if he is mad?
At the height of the unfortunate American involvement in East Asia, an owlish-looking young fellow approached the recruiting officer’s desk.
“What must I do to get to Vietnam as soon as possible?” asked the prospective soldier.
“Well, first you have to sign up,” exclaimed the officer with a grin.
“Do volunteers have to take a physical?”
“Darn, that’ll slow me up. I wanna get to the front lines right away.”
“In any case, you’d have to go to boot camp for training,” explained the officer. “Nobody goes where the fighting is until he’s properly trained.”
“Then at least will the army fly me to Vietnam? I’d hate to go there by slow boat.”
“What are you so all-fired anxious about?” growled the army man. “Don’t you realize you could get killed or wounded over there?”
“So I get killed or wounded. What’s the difference, as long as I’m getting all the glory?”
“Listen, buddy,” snapped the recruiter, “why don’t you go home and forget the whole thing? You’re crazy!”
The young fellow abruptly reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a paper and thrust it into the army officer’s hands.
“Here,” he said quickly. “Just sign!”
Enough for today.