Pissing My Chances Away
What the hell…I might as well jump in with both feet and find out whether I’m acceptable here at TAH or not. In all the years that have passed since I came home from Vietnam and married my little West Texas beauty, there have been a couple of things about my own behavior that I don’t quite understand. If there’s a shrink out there among you, I’d love to hear your opinion although there’s absolutely no guarantee I’ll even listen to it being the cranky old bastard I am.
Two things: the act of standing out on my porch or my deck at night, looking into my home where my wife and animals are happily content has always filled me with a special pleasurable feeling I can’t define. Think that country song “On My Front Porch Looking In,” and you’re getting close.
Second, I just can’t begin to tell you how much satisfaction I derive from pissing off my porch.
Yep, you heard me right. There is a singular definition of freedom which I have long maintained is one which will be readily recognized by millions of combat veterans, especially those like me who chose to forgo the lucrative allures of the great metropolises for the freedom of small towns or rural living. Since returning from a tour in Vietnam nearly half a century ago, I fear I have met a certain profile, that of the society-shirking, space-seeking, leave-me-the-hell-alone veteran. I never gave a rat’s ass for rehabilitation programs, choosing to deal with my demons as so many have chosen to do, that is, thinking them through them and figuring them out, recognizing that there was nothing unique, nothing special about the demons I dealt with; they inhabited us all. Any human being who has engaged in lethal combat with other humans, in actions where casualties have occurred, on your side or the other, knows of what I’m speaking here.
Yes, to make a living I had to be out and about in the world, flying all over the country and interacting with others, who fortunately for me, were mostly military people. But in all those travels and activities, what I always treasured most was my home, with my beautiful wife and our animals. And during all those decades, a thing I’ve always made sure I had is enough space, between my own home and the folks living closest to me, to have the freedom to piss off my own porch. That’s right: let ‘er rip right off my porch. I’ll bet that if you surveyed infantry combat veterans you would find this to be ranked right up there in personal freedoms, a thing that evokes a visceral response from those who have been there and done that. In combat, pissing is something you do with trepidation, knowing that if you do it standing erect you’re an exposed target, unless hopefully you find a sheltering tree. So we’re talking about something that civilians will never have to even consider and most assuredly do not understand: pissing in combat can cost you your life and is therefore, a tight-ass, butt-clenching event.
For a combat infantry veteran, even one in the burbs, standing on the deck or back porch of his home, the idea of freely pissing off that deck or back porch into those same woods or his small back yard with total impunity and buttocks unclenched, is one of the very basic freedoms he has fought for. I say this with the assurance of one who knows, full well, that sublime sense of satisfaction that accompanies the act of letting it go, whizzing without fear into and onto that property which is yours; and I know full well the two thoughts that flow through the mind: First is, “Damn, that feels good,” and second is, “And I’ve damned well earned the right.”
Label me rude and crude…there are so many before you that you’ll need to get in line; but those who’ve been there and understand me will know that I damned well speak the truth.
Just a thought: you suppose there’s any chance of getting Jane Fonda buried right below my deck?
Category: Veterans Issues
I’ve never been in combat. I was in combat service support (commo). But I sympathize with your sentiment.
Now, you said that you had/have a problem that you wanted to discuss with us. And that would be . . . . . .???? I see nothing wrong here.
Welcome Home, and just do not piss on my back and tell me its raining… I never saw the elephant, but can recall all too well the training for it. This one time at Band Camp…I always feel just that lame when discussing something I have really no clue about, beyond having been an infantryman.
I think I relish my freedoms a lot more having done my part in some small way to have earned them though.
So, go ahead and piss off your porch. You earned it!!
I have never felt the urge to piss off the back porch, but I can relate to selecting a place to live where the neighbors ain’t too close. When looking for a place to live after I retired the #1 disqualifier for us was hearing the words homeowners association. Talk about people who are anal and pumped up with all sorts of self importance. If I want to work on a car on my driveway screw you if it ain’t pretty. I don’t need somebody telling me what kind of mailbox to have, grass to grow or how many trees I can have. Since my current residence is also the only house I have ever lived in that I could call mine it just gives me more of that sense of this is mine, so if that makes me selfish so be it. Growing up my family could only afford to rent so we lived in apartments, motel rooms and the occasional house. I busted my ass to be able to get it. I worked and sacrificed and now that I have it damned if somebody else is going to tell me what I can do.
So my feelings for the homestead are unrelated to my service really but in some ways I guess it is. I do however every once in awhile stand back and look at the place and appreciate that it is mine. Even though at times it has seemed like my house didn’t always return the same affection to me. Now get off my grass.
Do we have to bury Jane? Can we just chain her to your porch and you can piss on her all you want.
bury her up to her neck and prop her mouth open, so you have an aiming point.
And I thought the pissing off the back porch was just a *ME* thing…
It’s only a problem if you start doing #2s off the porch…
I have long counted that ability among my “Wealth”. I chide certain people as “someone who would step out of the shower to piss”, meaning that things don’t all have to be “proper” and uptown. I also appreciate the ability to get an “allover tan” as something that not all people have at hand.
Way to go, Russ. Yer in.
I think you’ve dealt with your demons perfectly well.
Piss away!!!
Dad was a fairly eminent man, but he passed (heh!) to us boys that little could be better than pissing off the end of a dock at night. The porch is but another case of it, one I enjoy under a bright moon. Or, on a cactus, facing away from the fire under a soft South Texas brush country night.
Both of us were pilots, Dad saw combat, I did not. Really, though, there is no need to motivate or explain this expression of freedom and well-being. It’s just elemental.
All I can really think to say is…
http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_HXP2Z5GXFO8/TURaKnUWqDI/AAAAAAAAJQo/7KKRz1zK1g4/s1600/cib.gif
Yes, I understand those personal freedoms. Sometimes standing in my driveway drinking a beer and grilling meat while my little girl plays in the yard is exactly what I need.
Sounds altogether normal here, with or without the combat experience.
After returning home from Iraq I realized that I had never appreciated the color green in the grass and in the trees or houses without huge brick courtyard walls before. Now, I wave at every single person I drive by in my neighborhood.
My father-in-law is an old Navy SeaBee from the late ’70s. He enlisted to change his life, and after doing time in Guam and Gitmo he became a plumber and had four kids. He worked his entire life toward one single dream: a home on a hill in the woods of New Hampshire where he could grill and drink beer and piss in his own woods and do whatever the fuck he wants without anyone trying to tell him he can’t do something. He and his wife live in that home in a town called Greenville on a 2 acre lot with a beautiful landscape and a view of Boston on a good day. I’ve spent many a night drinking beer by a bonfire in their yard with some very loud Montgomery Gentry or Zac Brown playing over his home speakers, talking about the military and life in general. His favorite quote, which I hear every time I’m up in NH- THE quote I contend should be etched on his tombstone when he passes away (hopefully not for at least another 40 years)- is, “The greatest part about life is life.”
I don’t believe it says good things about our society, and how it’s changed over the last century or so, that you would even question the actions you describe.
Occasionally standing back and watching your loved ones living their life, reflecting on the domestic tranquility you miraculously find yourself a part of, giving yourself mental space to appreciate the richness of the liberties we should not just be allowed to enjoy, but should make an effort to enjoy. These things aught to be central to being human, let alone American, and they are a direct connection to the spirit of the men and women who braved incredible uncertainties and hardships on a new continent to secure personal freedom for themselves and their families.
I said yesterday I was looking forward to reading your contributions, I’m not disappointed.
In more ways than one Russ, welcome home. 🙂
To second the others: welcome here, Russ – and welcome home.
Just remember to check the target area fer coyotes and diamondbacks where yer pissin’, amigo – ‘specially if yer well-endowed. They reportedly sometimes don’t take kindly to bein’ pissed on. (smile)
I returned from SVN in 1971…
Me too…at my other house (now rented out), which has a 6 foot privacy fence.
Often at night, when sitting on my back deck sucking down a couple of cool ones in the night air, the need would come over me.
And rather than going inside my home and wasting around a gallon of perfectly good H2O in the flush…I took a whiz in my flower beds.
Absolutely liberating to do so…in the city.
Pissing off the porch? I do it all the time. Why? Because I can. And it really confuses the neighbor’s dog when he comes sniffing around on my property.
Great essay! Now I’ll have to admit to the wife that when she’s already gone to bed, and I let the dogs out back for one last pee of the night, I often go with them. I always thought I just couldn’t be bothered to make the few steps down the hall instead; but you have perfectly explained it. And my last combat duty was way back in ’88. Thanks for clearing up my motivation! 😉
From one cranky old bastard to another, Welcome Home Brother.
My sentiments exactly, I would only add being able to sit and shoot at various and sundry targets as the mood suits. I’ve already got the hole dug for “Hanoi Jane” under my deck so we may have a tug of war on that one. Semper Fi.
Let ‘er fly (just not into the wind). Keeps the coyotes out.
I thought I was the only one that took a little bit of joy in pissing off my porch… I need to get my beautiful wife to read this maybe it will give her a little more understanding of some of the stuff I do…
My dad did the same thing and passed the skill and tradition on to us boys.
I think pissing off your own porch is on of the things that separates doers from whiners.
One of the reasons I moved out of the city. And, it not only keeps the coyotes away, it keeps the deer out of the wife’s dogwoods.
Oh sh*t … I knew deap down in my heart I was not the only one who does this. It is like pissing off the fantail of a ship … “the entire ocean is mine”. And so now .. yes I am proud to say much to the disappointment of my lovely wife and the seemingly fragile and over-hydrated Rotadendrin bush … I piss off my porch too.
Love to piss off the back porch. Out of an old habit still find myself sprinkling it around to avoid the noise of puddling. Sometimes that noise could be heard by Charlie. And if you go often in the same place it’ll kill the grass. So sometimes I go along the fence as it works like round-up somewhat. And you can bet that there’s already a place for jane in my yard too.
I’ll get back with you after I shit in the wide open with an e-tool under one ass cheek……oh yah, I’ll piss all over the ass flap of my nomex uni too……
He worked his entire life toward one single dream: a home on a hill in the woods of New Hampshire where he could grill and drink beer and piss in his own woods and do whatever the fuck he wants without anyone trying to tell him he can’t do something.
Damn, Bah–you just described my life. Although I will disagree with one point. A good day is when you DON’T see Boston, or self-important Massholes. And while he’s got a bit more land than I do, the point is still there.
Why do we piss off our back porches, gentlemen? Simple–because we CAN.
And Russ, as I’ve stated before, I’m not old enough to be a VN vet, but when she kicks, I’m buying the first keg. Line forms to the left. Bitch better hope she’s buried 20 feet above ground or else she’s gonna float away.
It is good to sww you’ve come here. I agree with you on that back prch thing, but hell … its good even inside. A healthy piss is the world’s most underrated pleasure – anywhere. But jsut for solidarity, tonight after it gets dark, I’m gonna step out into my back yard …
I am apparently afflicted with the same strange urge.
Break, break….O.K. you can have Fonda if I can have Petah Ahnett or Walter Cronkite.
Russ,
You are on my bucket list of someone I want to meet. We shared some time at Old War Dogs with Bill Faith and Rurik a few years ago. I also had the honor to meet the purveyor of this site on a couple of excursions to DC, and he (Jon) contributed to “The Talon,” BLOG for a while.
Now to the subject “at hand.” As a divorcee, I enjoy standing at the edge of my apartment patio, with my dog Bailey, and sharing the act of taking a piss. I know for him it is strictly an act of necessity or marking territory. For me it is both an act of liberation and part social commentary.
So let the rivers flow. Good to see you writing.
The Gray Dog
Wow! Its like I wrote this myself…
Well, Poetrooper, if you’re ever in Chicago – ya might want to use a public restroom vice finding an El platform to substitute for yer porch.
http://chicago.cbslocal.com/2012/04/23/man-dies-after-peeing-on-l-tracks-in-evanston/
A healthy piss is the world’s most underrated pleasure – anywhere. You have written well . Generic Stromectol