Operation Memory
By David Lehman
We were smoking some of this knockout weed when
Operation Memory was announced. To his separate bed
Each soldier went, counting backwards from a hundred
With a needle in his arm. And there I was, in the middle
Of a recession, in the middle of a strange city, between jobs
And apartments and wives. Nobody told me the gun was loaded.
We'd been drinking since early afternoon. I was loaded.
The doctor made me recite my name, rank, and serial number when
I woke up, sweating, in my civvies. All my friends had jobs
As professional liars, and most had partners who were good in bed.
What did I have? Just this feeling of always being in the middle
Of things, and the luck of looking younger than fifty.
At dawn I returned to draft headquarters. I was eighteen
And counting backwards. The interviewer asked one loaded
Question after another, such as why I often read the middle
Of novels, ignoring their beginnings and their ends. when
Had I decided to volunteer for intelligence work? "In bed
With a broad," I answered, with locker-room bravado. The truth was, jobs
Were scarce, and working on Operation Memory was better than no job
At all. Unamused, the judge looked at his watch. It was 1970
By the time he spoke. Recommending clemency, he ordered me to go to bed
At noon and practice my disappearing act. Someone must have loaded
The harmless gun on the wall in Act I when
I was asleep. And there I was, without an alibi, in the middle
Of a journey down nameless, snow-covered streets, in the middle
Of a mystery--or a muddle. These were the jobs
That saved men's souls, or so I was told, but when
The orphans assembled for their annual reunion, ten
Years later, on the playing fields of Eton, each unloaded
A kit bag full of troubles, and smiled bravely, and went to bed.
Thanks to Operation Memory, each of us woke up in a different bed
Or coffin, with a different partner beside him, in the middle
Of a war that had never been declared. No one had time to load
His weapon or see to any of the dozen essential jobs
Preceding combat duty. And there I was, dodging bullets, merely one
In a million whose lucky number had come up. When
It happened, I was asleep in bed, and when I woke up,
It was over: I was 38, on the brink of middle age,
A succession of stupid jobs behind me, a loaded gun on my lap.
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I think we're taking the kids swimming with my sisters' kids, and then maybe going to the movies. It's chilly and rainy so the perfect day for that. The war about whether we're going to Elf, Haunted Mansion or the Looney Tunes movie is about to begin (I take it The Cat in the Hat sucks too much to consider, or does someone have a different viewpoint from most of the reviews I've seen?) I will be thinking of ways to sneak elsewhere in the multiplex, of course.
Would it be very wrong to claim to have an upset stomach tonight so I can have a bagel for dinner instead of leftover turkey?
Friday Five:
1. Do you like to shop? Why or why not?
Online? Love it. In stores? Loathe it. On crowded weekends, would rather go to the dentist.
2. What was the last thing you purchased?
Not counting fruit for Thanksgiving dinner? Books, of course. A huge honkin' new book on the Grateful Dead for my husband for Chanukah (if you see him, don't tell him) and, um, as long as I was getting free shipping anyway, The Making of 'Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World' for me.
3. Do you prefer shopping online or at an actual store? Why?
Online. Ohhh no comparison. The only thing I shop for in actual stores are pants and shoes, neither of which can be sized correctly online. I mean, I go to actual stores all the time to get books that I can't wait for and DVDs that are cheaper at Best Buy and such, but if everyone guaranteed delivery on appropriate days, I'd probably never go to stores.
4. Did you get an allowance as a child? How much was it?
I did, and I don't remember. Money was worth something different then than now anyway. I think it was enough to buy a paperback book every two weeks.
5. What was the last thing you regret purchasing?
The keychain watch that broke practically as soon as I got it out of the package. Fortunately Target took it back. Now I have one that is less pretty but has survived being dropped twice -- I have to have a watch on my keychain because I am forever forgetting the one that goes on my wrist.
Boromir licks Aragorn's ears. Good thing someone keeps him clean.
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