This is courtesy of my friend Mike... A paratrooper, of course!
Paratroopers come in all shapes, shades, weights, sizes and states of sobriety, misery, and confusion. They are sly as a fox, have the nerve of a dope addict, the stories of an old sailor, the sincerity of a politician and the subtly of Mt. Saint Helens. They are extremely irresistible, totally irrational and completely indestructible.
A paratrooper is one all of his life. He is a magical creature. You can kick him out of your house, but not out of your heart. You can take him off your mailing list, but not off your mind. They're found everywhere. In love, in battle, in lust, in trouble, in debt, in bars... and behind them. No one can write so seldom and yet think so much of you. No one else can get so much enjoyment out of a letter, or clean clothes, or a six pack.
A paratrooper is a genius with a deck of cards. A millionaire without a cent, and brave without a grain of sense. He is the PROTECTOR OF AMERICA, with the latest copy of Playboy in his back pocket. When he wants something it's usually 30 days leave, music that hurts the ears, a five dollar bill or a woman he can count on. Girls love them, mothers tolerate them, fathers brag about them, the government pays them, the police watch out for them and somehow they all work together. You can beat their bodies but not their minds.
You can tame their hearts but not their souls. He likes girls, females, women, ladies and their Wives. He dislikes small checks, working weekends, answering letters, missing chow, waking up, maintaining a uniform and the day before payday.
You may as well give in. He is your long distance lover. He is your steely-eyed, warm-smiling, blank-minded, hyperactive, over-reacting, curious, passive, talented, spontaneous, physically fit, good for nothing bundle of worry...
And will always be there for you regardless of how long it's been since you've last talked.
I love my paratrooper... William Ellis Brown
