19 September 2007

In Which My Pants Go Marching Marching

See the radical protester in camo fatigues, holding back the media with her awesomeness and blinding attire? That would be my kid.
There's more.

My pants were at the March on Washington. As in my soldier girl pants. My former BDUs. (that's Battle Dress Uniform in civilian lingo.) From when I wore combat boots for a living. That's them, there on the right.

The boots in the picture, though, are all hers.

I'm so proud. Not only was my daughter an organizer in the March, she donned her mother's old army pants to do so. There's a certain irony there. A certain je ne sais quoi. Oh wait, yes I do: a certain Fuck You, Georgie, and fuck your war. Here's one former soldier whose ass you didn't get to control.

And whose ass no longer fits in those pants, which is why the Radical Bohemian is in currently in possession of them. Yeah, I really hate that part. That part pretty much pisses me off. Almost enough to make me get up and exercise.

Anyway, my teenager is fortunate enough to be wearing those BDUs to march on Washington, rather than wearing them to march through Fallujah or Baghdad. I've been thinking more than usual about the mothers whose kids are wearing desert fatigues lately.

Good job, baby, you rock.

(Why yes, as a matter of fact, I am posting about the March and my daughter ad nauseaum. My blog, my kid, important event that BushCo. wants to stifle. Whatever.)


  1. tater: hell no i don't mind! sweet.
    cowbell: THANKS! I get a compliment AND a special thank you spot. SWEET

  2. Greetings!

    I've been actually more focused on your daughter's blog and just had a moment to step in here and see your perspective on her involvement...

    You do, in fact have some great kids!I'm proud of her and the work she's done - she really wore herself out with the planning and posting of information - signs all over the place - taken down as fast as they could put them up...a daunting task to take on those mucky muck types...eh?


  3. Your daughter does rock, but that's probably because her mom does too.

  4. Tater: You just can't help yourself, can you?

    Enemy: I wanted to go as well, but I'm all the way in the other Washington with 2 other youngins. Oh well, living vicariously through my daughter. And my pants.

    Evil-G: Thanks -- she thought about going to the Jena protest as well - I think she already stretched too thin as far as classes with this one. They did send a bus with 55 or 60 from Howard to Jena though.

    Mouse: Cool! I'm not allowed to give blood, even though I'm the universal donor (Oneg) because I lived in Europe too many years. Mad cow or some shit. And I'm a vegetarian.

    Monica: I aim to please. Well, not really. But it worked out that way this time.

    jp2r: Hey you! I miss you! Sok puszika neked!

    Whim: Thank you -- I hope so. My pants do, anyway.


I've got a fever ...