i have always posited it was easier to deal with jet lag heading east than it was headed west. This trip may not have proved it, but it certainly has added weight to my position. We are home. Sort of.  Sarah got us home from the airport Friday night around seven. After unpacking and beginning the reorganization after a two-week absence while eating the perfect home meal, our first in two weeks, Sarah had prepared, Maureen hit the sack around 8:00 p.m. i put some more things in order before crashing at 10:00 p.m. It was a 23-hour travel day for me.

So i slept a bit over five hours and drove to North Island for golf. i played with Rod Stark, Marty Linville, Jeff Middlebrook, Mark Shults, Bob Schoultz, and Bob’s friend Ken (sorry, Ken, i just realized i can’t recall your last name). It was the Army’s birthday, and the pro shop played the “U.S. Field Artillery March” over the speaker system as we teed off for that Army artillery legend Marty Linville.

i got home around noon, crashed for just short of four hours, arose, ate my second wonderful home cooked meal, Maureen’s steak, potatoes, and salad, watched a ball game until i fell asleep in my chair, and then slept for seven hours. i remain a zombie, hoping my condition will improve to human after a short nap.

But to honor Marty and the Army once more, here is today’s Murphy’s Law:”

From my “Murphy’s Law” desk calendar archives thanks to Aunt Evelyn, Uncle Pipey, and cousin Nancy:

The Army Axiom: Any order that can be misunderstood has been misunderstood.

Goofy guy’s alteration to The Army Axiom: That is, of course, unless the order was issued by Major Linville by whispering (Several of us will understand). 

i think i’ll take that nap.