An insult?

Not long ago I was called a "book worm" by a drunken, loud sports fan at an Iowa Hawkeye basketball game. In fact my wife and I were hassled pretty much throughout the game by "accidental" bumps, too-loud comments and generally sophomoric behavior that would be better suited to the student section of the arena. These assholes were so obnoxious an elderly couple who became the target of their bile early in the game got up and left. Their offense? Being fans of the opposing team.

The volume and profanity of the ongoing tirades was so loud that people three and four rows down were turning around to see what the commotion was all about. Quite a few people sitting around this crew of meatheads asked/told them to clean up their language and to act like "True Hawkeye fans" but those comments only redirected the drunks' stupidity onto them.

Finally after an "accidental" bump on Joleen, I turned around and told them to knock it off. Of course this led to them turning their ire directly on us. Then one of the louder ones started to berate me for reading a book during timeouts and for dozing off at previous games. This when he called me a bookworm. Wow, these bozos have been watching me this long? They certainly aren't that much interested in the game if they take note of us!

Something else that was laughable was how they justified their rudeness. They loudly declared that because they paid for their tickets that entitled them to be as loud and obnoxious as they wanted to be. Of course, that everyone else sitting around them just wanted to watch the game but that didn't count.

As the asshole continued his diatribe, I asked him if he had purchased my ticket and just why in the hell it bothered him so much. His unintelligible reply was laced with a few profanities and hardly worth writing about however, a drunk is just a drunk but an angry drunk is a threat so I put my book away (a excellent biography of T. E. Lawrence BTW), pulled my spyderco from its hiding place so I could slice and dice them if need be.

I must point out that during this whole time not one single permar security puke, U of I rent-a-cop or police officer was to be found. I know they were there, because they are thick as thieves on the upper level and lower level of the arena but are rarely if ever seen patrolling the aisles. I must also point out that during this whole mess my wife was trying to text the emergency number for security so she could report the escalating situation. Over a month later we are still waiting on a response to her text.

Later, as the game drew to an end with the Hawks losing to the hated Iowa State Cyclones the drunks vented their spleens at the players to "Man up" and then started back up with the crowd because according to these boozer-losers the rest of us weren't cheering loud enough for a Hawks' victory. Most people in our section just tried to ignore them.

Ascending the stairs with a couple minutes left in the game I was struck by the sheer number of "security" people hanging around up on the main level; some texting, some eating, chit-chatting with each other but an inordinate number of them leaning over the railing with their attention focused solely on the game! And many of these gawkers were armed police officers! Their service weapons and tasers within easy reach of anyone who was feeling froggy. I guess watching the game and hassling people by searching their belongings is way more important than doing their job of providing any type of security.

I bring this event up only because we were back at the arena last night for another dismal showing of the Hawkeyes. Anyway, partway through the game, three or four young men came over to speak to the people sitting directly in front of us. They were courteous and non-obtrusive as they kneeled in the aisle talking but trying to keep out everyone's way. They hadn't been there 2 minutes when out of nowhere a permar SUPERVISOR swooped down on them with the admonition to "clear the aisle or ELSE!"

Well, I guess I've vented my spleen about enough for tonight. Life ain't fair, but it's the only one we have. Next time maybe I'll stick one of them and see if they change their tune

Woody out.

When the Last Flag is Lowered

I wrote this short poem sometime in the late 70s or early 80s while I was assigned to the 82d Airborne Division. This was during the Cold War when the Soviet Bear was still the primary threat to America. As poetry goes it isn't great, but I still like the message. MRW



When the last flag is lowered, will you be there with head held high and heart full of pride? Or will you dwell in the shadows with the guilt you try to hide?

Two hundred years plus, this country has stood tall, because there have always been volunteers willing to raise their hand? Someone always there to make the supreme sacrifice – to take the valiant stand.

There were turbulent years when the country was torn asunder. And there were the years when we pulled together, to correct another’s blunder.

When the bugles and drums sound once more, will you be there? Or will you turn your back and act like you really don’t care?

The question is yours, and one that you must soon decide. Will you be there, or will you hide?

Michael R. Woods
Written sometime during the Cold War