When I say "Where in the world is my son?" I really mean it.

Having a son in transit is almost as bad as having a son in Iraq.

The last message I got from my son the soldier was on April 22nd. He said the Army was "80% sure" he would be flying out of Iraq on May 2nd for his mid-tour leave. If not then, it would be the next day.

So here I am, never far from a telephone, waiting for a call from my world traveler.

Benny Hill: Alive and Well and Living in Iraq

Chatted with my soldier on Yahoo Messenger yesterday. As usual, I asked him how things were going, and he answered, "Same as usual, just being an extra on the Benny Hill Show."

I laughed out loud.

He told me to go to youtube and search for the Benny Hill theme song to get a mental picture of what life is like for him in Iraq, serving under a bunch of alleged idiots. I told him I didn't have to, because the song was already playing in my head. Apparently he plays the theme song repeatedly for his buddies to remind them of their roles.

For those of you who don't know it, here is the new theme song for my son's battallion:

Beer for My Soldiers

I chatted on instant messenger with my son briefly today. He said that his entire base got beer for the Superbowl -- except for the infantry platoons, because they're required to drive. I call bullshit, and so did my son's buddies. They stole some and took it back their rooms. I'm pretty sure the stolen beer amounted to about one each, so there's no danger of camels being struck by Humvees or anything.

*edit - I just realized that allowing soldiers in a war zone to have only one or two beers is akin to taking Anna Kournikova to Iraq to entertain the troops, but dressing her in a burkah.