Cousin Fred and the REMFs

Glad to see my kid cousin Fred is back in the saddle.

Here is a new Fred Rant regarding the kind of military officer that, so to speak, has an "alligator mouth" and a "canary ass." Back in the day, we called these guys REMFs. And here is Freddo's explanation:


"That’s Rear-Echelon... It refers to paper-pushers who sit safely way behind the lines while men in the military fight."


We have this type of glorified retail clerks in the church as well, dabblers who sop up six-figure salaries, safely tucked away in suburbia, who never get a call in the middle of the night from a parishioner in distress. But they're ever eager to sling "bull shit" and hold forth about the pastoral office when in fact, all they know about it is what they've read in books or picked up surfing pastors' blogs.

The nice thing about being an old fart is that I'm just not impressed by all the smoke and mirrors. What I don't know is why all these kids in the LCMS ministry fall for this crap. All you have to do is offer one of these 30-year old pastors a Budweiser in a real glass, present him a Swisher Sweet, and he'll eat out of your hand and swear you're the Queen of Frigging Sheba.

Youth is wasted on the Utes, I guess.

Anyway, I think I'll look for a flight to Guad and join Freddy for a Padre Kino and a pack of Luckys. We got some catching up to do.

We're on the briny in Alaska right now, and I'm getting a little bored watching whales jump around. Besides, every time I see one of 'em blasting wind out of his blow hole I'm reminded of St. Louis, and I throw up in my mouth a little. I'm hoping they have an airport in Juneau. If not, I guess I can always call the old leatherneck on the phone and share a drink over the "blue tooth."

If you're reading, Freddy, get the spare room ready.