As I rode home from DC to Maryland on the Metro train, there he sat. Dressed in fatigues, high laced boots, close hair cut. One of them. One of the heros described in Oliver North's and Karl Zinsmeister's books. Or of the prints I've made from Diogenesis's posts. Okay, girl, pull it together--it's not a big thing. As we approached the final stop I walked up to him. "Soldier...Thank you for serving..." Of all the responses I would have expected a soft and humble "Thank you... thank you... thank you" was not one of them. As he turned to exit...
