Gettysburg 1863: Imagining How Andy Donkin and James Best Would Do In Old Timey War

GETTYSBURG 1863:  An Imaginary Conversation Between Me and Andy Donkin On the Battlefield

 

This is me and Andy near Gettysburg back in like 2011.  He had two knives that we could put on our belts and we looked awesome.  It's amazing this photo was able to be held steady because of Valerie's mocking laughter as she held it.  I started thinking about what it would be like if Andy and I were soldiers during that time and how Gettysburg would go down for us.  This is probably the most historically accurate thing I've ever written.

SCENE:  The Blues and Grays are charging each other.  Andy and James are charging and firing.  They both realize the flag bearer is dead next to them and the flag is now on the ground. 

ANDY

That’s our flag. You should pick that up.

JAMES

My arms aren’t as strong as yours.  The flag is yours.

ANDY
James, that is the symbol of our liberty. I am giving you a gift.  Do you not accept my gift?

JAMES

I want to accept it. I do. But I just feel like I’d be taking away something special from you.

ANDY

And I’m questioning your patriotism.  Now raise up the flag and show me you’re a patriot.

JAMES

You’re the only one questioning it then.  Jones, whose guts you’re stepping in, never questioned it.  Neither did Rutherford whose boots I was stealing while the charge was going on.

ANDY

Those are magnificent boots. I admire the accent stitching.

JAMES

They’re deer fat cured.  Fit me like a dream.

ANDY

And I have such workman boots.  Just another reason you should carry the flag.  You’ll look more stylish doing it.

JAMES

Ah, but General Grant said he wants working class men carrying the flag.  The men follow the working class better. I’d look like too much of a dandy.  I defer to you.

ANDY

Ah, but my features are too English for our conscripted Irish immigrant army.   You’re a bit more Mick than me.  I defer to you.

JAMES

Ah, but I’m a 16^th Native American which is very evident by my thick luxurious hair. Racism is still so alive in the 19^th century.  The flag bearing be yours.

ANDY

Ah, but I’m needed for funny quips when General Grant rouses the men.  I’m up for promotion for quips alone.  The flag bearing goes to you.

JAMES

But U-lys, that’s what his friends call him, needs me for missives to send back to Lincoln. I’m a smashing missive giver.  Too invaluable.

ANDY

Are you saying that you are scared to hold aloft our liberty?

JAMES

I am saying you are, sir.

ANDY

Don’t bandy my words, sir.  I am naming you a coward.  Hoist our standard!

JAMES

It takes a coward to know one.

ANDY

I think you should ponder what you just said.

JAMES

(ponders)

Oh, double damn!

ANDY

Can we just be straight arrows for a moment?

JAMES

I don’t know, can you ever be straight?

Andy and James both chuckle at themselves. A hail of bullets force them to drop to the ground.

ANDY
Holding that flag is like holding a death wish. 

JAMES

Yes! Why does anyone volunteer for it?  It’s like, “Look at me! I’m a slow moving target! Please put a thousand musket balls in me!”

ANDY

Whenever Grant asks for volunteers, I always pretend like I’m examining some jam in my pistol.

JAMES

I tell my commanding officer my dysentery flared up again.

ANDY
War is not the good time campout and rifle firing outing I thought it would be.  There's a lot more leg cutting off and maggot food.

JAMES

I know, right? War blows like the wind.

ANDY

I say we just bury the flag and get the H out of here.

JAMES

Thank you.  Let’s bury this tattered mother and flee to Canada.

ANDY

I’ve always wanted to be a mountain man.

JAMES

Can we live in a mountain next to a city? I really am a dandy.

ANDY

Like that's a secret.  Now I’ll get to burying while you smear us with Jones's blood.

JAMES

In case we have to play dead. Brilliant.

ANDY

Burying!

JAMES
Smearing!

Olympics! Day 2 - My Allegiances and Qualifying Heats Tease Me

SPORT REPORT

Qualifying Heats

Ugh.  I get it.  Not everyone can compete in the final.  The pool would look like everyone dropped off the Titanic while wearing rubber hats.  So you have to qualify people. Eliminate enough to make it manageable.  Even though it seems cruel and something very egalitarian within me balks against it.  It feels too brutal to be excluded before you even get close to the medal.  Though I guess you are close.  You're at the freaking Olympics.

But excluding the human element of hopes and dreams, these heats are brutal.  FOR ME!  I want the main event!  Stop teasing me with these lap swims!  I get all worked up for nothing.  I'm watching the magical World Record line race in front of them and I'm going crazy, jumping up and down, yelling across the Atlantic for them to go faster and then I'm all let down because it was just a stupid heat.  They were going 75 percent.  They were thinking about the taco party the Olympic Village is having at lunchtime.

It's killing me.  The athletes are not thinking ABOUT ME at all.  I'm their fan.  I'm why they are at the Olympics, right?  Human endurance and achievement is just a sham.  They are doing it so I can run into them at the mall and give them a wicked high five and tell them how sweet they were at doing sport stuff.

Finals or nothing, Olympic Committee.  Knock off the foreplay.

SPECIAL OLYMPIC MATTER FOR DISCUSSION

Allegiances

The Olympics are so unifying and segregating at the same time.  On one hand, I'm like, "Go World! Let's unify in Sport!' But on the other hand, I'm all like, "Death to all who oppose us! USA forever!"  It's a hard balance.

So I've decided on a hierarchy of countries I root for. And a few countries to treat as villains.  My hierarchy works like this.  1) If the US is involved, everyone else can suck it.  I'm rooting for the home team  2) If the US is involved and Hierarchy teams then I hope the US gets gold but the other teams medal  3) if no US, hierarchy teams get my roots and hollers 4) if no hierarchy teams are involved, I pick a winner based on how kind the athletes look

Here's my hierarchy:

HERO TEAMS
1) USA (of course)
2) Canada/Mexico (sister countries, North America rulez!)
3) Great Britain (you should always root for the home team)
4) Tiny Countries that don't get medals usually like Togo

VILLAIN TEAMS
1) China (oppressors)
2) France (swimming buttholes)
3) North Korea (Kim Jong Jerks)

Day 20 - The US of Eh

I'm in an internet cafe. Across from Aaron Allen. We're in Waterton, Canada where his family has a beautiful cabin in the mountains. I'm here to write. To kayak a bit. Learn how to golf?

Today, we kayaked Lake Cameron. We lost track of time (neither of us wear a watch and it was overcast) and we ended up being on the water for 7 hours. It's been a few crazy days of traveling for me. Flying to LA, getting some In and Out, and then James Appel being so kind to drive me to a different airport so I could fly to Canada.

This is what I wrote while I was at LAX. I was a little delirious but I like it.

LAX – 4:40 AM

You do not tire.
You are undauntable, you are American.
A self made sun.

Here, in the waiting room of your heart,
I feel your wheels, I stride the gears.
I get up and wade your pools like fuel.
Our need is your on switch.
Our travel itch, that we have to get off
and get on and on. Infinity.

From this great glass,
I spy every plane splash
into the surf of the Pacific.
They taxi in where worker men
swing fronds of palm to beat
clean the cling of clouds.

Stretch those wings a while.
Cool your jets, man.
Let your uniformed brain take a walk.
It’s good to change your mind.

Put me in an orange vest.
I will spread seed for your birds.
Clean the tarmac with leftover java.
I can spell out love notes in lights
to all your most faithful lovers.

If the Big Earthquake comes,
LAX, I have no doubt
every plane here will grasp you up
by their rubber feet
and carry you to another land
ready for your busy heart.

The Travel Bug

So my little poetry writing break is coming to an end. I tried to start something tonight but was falling asleep everywhere. I'm reading Galway Kinnell's Book of Nightmares so I'm working on nightmare poems. Spooky scary.

But Val and I are leaving for a trip! We're flying down to California on Thursday and then I'm flying up to Canada on Friday. Because Valerie and I always split up the week before our anniversary to make each other extravagant gifts. They have to be hand made. Last year, she made me a canoe with my name etched into a banner being carried by two eagles. And I made her a hammock that fit exactly to the shape of her body. And had a cup holder.

Oh, wait. Those are lies. We never do that kind of stuff. We just buy each other diamond jewelry. I have a bandolier made of rubies and Valerie is getting (don't tell her) a bathing suit of carbuncles.

Holy crap, I'm tired. I'm going to bed. I have to find some more carbuncles tomorrow.