I was once drinking by myself and watching a hockey game on TV in a little dive bar near my home in Pittsburgh when an older guy in a trucker cap began haranguing the poor bartender with a series of complaints about what they- the nebulous yet omnipresent political powers that be-`oughta do` about any number of problems in his life. He turned his squint on me and asked, inexplicably and little aggressively, if I had ever `carried a .50 caliber machine gun.` I said that no, in fact, I hadnīt. I asked the same of him, and he said, yes, in fact, he had. I asked if heīd been in the service. Yes, he said, I was. I made a guess, based on his apparent age. `Vietnam?` I asked. He looked me right in...
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