M.A.S.H.

I had a dream last night that I had an army jeep. It was really fun! One of the ones without doors or windows, just that collapsable windshield. I think I fell asleep watching t.v. and M.A.S.H. must've come on. I love me some Alan Alda. Hawkeye Pierce, God bless ya! And Hot Lips Houlihan, you, too. It's funny how much of your life is made up of things that you never really liked but just couldn't have helped. I had no choice but to be a fan of countless shows, Bugs Bunny, the Muppets, M.A.S.H. And music, Elton John, all things bluegrass, heavy metal, even tomato sandwiches and G.I. Joe. It's just what was meant for me, the baby and only girl, with two big brothers and two southern parents, Virginians, to be exact. It's as though you inherit their tastes. No matter how much of a hissy fit you may try to pitch, you end up liking things that were just forced upon you, like simultaneouly watching the Braves on t.v., the sound muted and a.m. radio on in the background with the "legit" sportscaster calling the game. To this day, I'm still not sure what the big deal is with that one. But no matter how much you may have sworn against liking those things, whether it's because they remind you of family and people you love or simply because you'e grown accustomed to them, they end up a part of you. Thank the good lord they had good theme songs!