20221018-1614. After our late lunch, my elderly father talked about his training in San Diego, California as steward. Y’all know those stewardships in a religious sense?
Well, my dad was a steward who service in a BURPEES of Junior Admiral officers. He said THEY would record the records and recommend those to serve directly under an Admiral. My dad was one of those stewards.
He had his stories of chasing the doggies of the Admiral’s wife and service the couple during his gig in the Panama Canal Zone. So y’all can imagine the wonders of a college graduate in this serving capacity traveling the world, even the Arctic Circle!
Anyways, I fumed at him that NOBODY could possible get that close to a military official is THEY did NOT smell his as being one of THEIR own kinds and that my dad is probably a “bloodline”, so to speak.
Fast forward, I could only sigh at this musing for I do NOT know if my presumptions or observations are correct in this game. This would explain my purpose to serve a boss, so to speak.
I could only sign and muse at this entertaining incoming thought of how niceness could possiblu transfer from one generation to another, considering I was NOT honored enough to bear any heirs. So sad and no thanks to y’all for ruining my timelines!
I already have prepared a nice black binder containing his official USN photos of commendations, achievements and a signed photo of a handsome military official. Nice.
That’s all I have to say. FlynnsPaws.
Hello Flynn, nice, and good luck!