As my wife and I were walking into the commissary at Parris Island this morning, just ahead of us was a Marine master sergeant — a DI, a Hat.  From the look on his face, he didn’t much care whether he went in through the door or the wall.

Just for a second, my blood froze.  Primal memories of military training long ago.  Then I told myself:  Get a grip!  You’re retired.  You’re Air Force.  You’re a colonel, fer crissakes!!  It seemed to help.

Sure glad he’s on our side.