Fitz also has several other blogs which you can check out on his Blog Catalog page, including his Blues music blog and his modern parenting blog. See them here: Fitzgerald's many blogs
He's a master blogger, if you will. He's also a retired Navy man. He submitted this story to us from his Navy days and we hope you enjoy it and go visit his blog(s). Thanks, Fitz.
'' Disbo and the Shirts
When I was in the Navy we often told stories called sea stories. Do you know what the difference between a sea story and a fairy tale is? Well a sea story begins with "Back on my old boat" and a fairy tale begins with "Once upon a time."
Back on my old boat, the USS Valley Forge (CG 50), (yes it was kind of like being with President George Washington back in the colonial days. That is how tough it was.) I had a friend and fellow officer who because of his height, general body size, demeanor and race, was often confused with me. I was the Damage Control Assistance and he was the ships dispersing officer, we called him the Disbo.
He was also in charge of the ships laundry and this caused some tension between us. His men would laundry my shirts and invariably ruin them. They were washing my shirts with ink pens, which caused black stains all up and down the front of my Khaki shirts.
This happened about three or four times, and I would complain to the Disbo. He would tell his men to be more careful and then it would happen again. I was spending a small fortune buying new shirts.
So one day I show up at the stateroom that we shared, and what do I find. Freshly ruined shirts from the ships laundry. Well I am about to blow my stack when I realize that these shirts are not mine but are the Disbo's shirts and his men have confused him with me this time.
So I wait for the Disbo to show up in our state room and when he walks through the door I show him the offending shirts. He goes into full apology mode and begins to explain how easy it is to make this mistake and how other officers are leaving ink pens in their shirt pockets and how he will remind his men to be more careful again. He apologizes as he has done in the past and gives me the general look of I hope you understand.
I graciously accept his apology and then point out to him, that these shirts are not mine, but are in fact his. And that his men down in the laundry have confused the two of us. I go on mocking him, by repeating his explanation and apology.
The look on his face was priceless, he storms out of the stateroom and goes down to the ships laundry. By some stroke of magic, or luck, the ships laundry never destroyed another one of my shirts. It is funny how that all worked out.''