pat willard

I have to do this: his father's an historian and his grandfather's were something like that too. And so:

Sam is in Halmand Providence in southern Afghanistan. It's where 75% of all our opium comes from--we like this because the farmers and tribal lords don't appreciate their crops stomped by war. The Taliban may think of the providence as their strong hold but that get's dismissed when its opium harvesting time--which is now, right before winter sets in. Taliban don't like fighting in winter--its cold and muddy. Go figure. (more…)

I got the box. Got the tape. I got the complicated address with 10 lines...and the first quote is $375. Yep, $375 to send 18 brownies, 1 CD, 18 oz of moisturizer and 12 oz of odor eater--and a bunch of long rubber ropes I don't know God what he does with them. What the hell? Went back home and repackages.

Next day, went to Post Office by work. I'm the only native speaking one in the place--including the clerks. Counting: a family of 4 Indians, 3 Asians, a couple of Haitians and 3 babies competing to blow my head apart with their non stop screaming. Still, love them all because they're going over the passport window and leaving me with 2 nice clerks. My turn! (more…)

You don't really know what you're in for when a child or spouse heads to war. It's not like you think about it--you actually don't think about it because if you do, you'd find someone to hit. But if you don't think about it, it's unreal but you know you're honoring the person who is putting you through this. So there they are, three thousand miles or so in a strange dangerous place and here is what you think about:
a big box of cookies or donuts, a roast of lamb if it would get through and maybe some lasagna on the side.

You start planning how you're going to do all this cooking and baking and shopping and the box that you need to get to fit everything into it and send out three thousand miles away. (more…)