My Navy wife friends and I felt so superior, with our in-your-face nautical-inspired clothing and home decor adorned with anchors and whales and signal flags and boats, as if we were married to Captain Ahab himself. We pitied our poor Army and Air Force comrades, stationed in olive drab Timbuktu, staring out of their base kitchen windows at grain silos. …
Picking Battles with the Mutilation Generation
Our 26-year-old son hasn’t trimmed his beard in three years and wears a brown Walmart sweatshirt every day. Our 23-year-old daughter had her café au lait hair dyed orangey copper. Our 20-year-old daughter wears long, wildly-painted fingernails and a fake nose ring…