Yes, what is the Colonel babbling about anyway? He is a fat cat collecting big fat pension retirement checks and all he wants to do is take shots at poor little white girls such as myself. Well, we understand that those military people have to do what they have to do when they are out there fighting in the bushes, but we are not a military family, the only exception to that rule being the Butterfield cousins. So anyway there was no reason for us to continue this conversation. We prefer to stay far away from the bushes, where there is a high risk of being assaulted by bandits.
Oliver Twist was a miserable little street urchin tricked up as a Broadway spectacle, which worked fine for New York dance studios. But anyway the problem of child labor continues unabated in some remote areas of the planet so that you can dance on your plush carpets.
Sometimes life just isn't fair. At one time, my mother's supervisor was a Cuban accountant, Carmelo, whose strange Spanish Cuban dialect was barely understandable, you had to ask him to repeat things because nobody understands what he is saying and he doesn't speak English, but anyway those days are gone, those people are many of them passed away.
Time heals all wounds and everyone has long since forgotten the mysterious Iran-Contra affair which had no apparent significance that anyone should care whatever happened to the Contras. It was apparently just a matter of a colonel and his secretary shredding all the documents so that nobody understood whatever happened. So apparently the military had to do what they had to do, as they often do. So whatever. So?
