BoBerry Biscuits are now more expensive...

So we are leaving for a year-long tour to the Middle East. That much is clear. Our location and mission are pretty unclear, as is the much larger issue of the role that the US will play in post-war Iraq (a soon-to-be-realized role) and post-war Afghanistan (maybe a bit farther off). I have American boys, Soldiers who have volunteered their late teens and early 20s to defend whatever concept of "America" they might hold, for whom I need to care. Their lives are my responsibility as is their well-being. My friend Aaron, the other platoon leader in my Troop (Troop is synonymous with "Company" but is used exclusively in Cavalry for some reason probably having to do with making us feel cooler) faces the same challenge: deploying to warzone, fighting the enemy, and bringing all his Soldiers home. Somewhat crazy stuff I imagine.

But the thought I can't get off my mind? Bo-Berry Biscuits. They are biscuits infused with blueberries and covered in rich vanilla frosting and sold only in Bojangles, which is only in the southeast. Once sold at the bargain-basement price of 2 for $0.99, they have increased in price to something like 2 for $1.39. I cannot explain why, but I am really put off by this. I love Bo-Berry Biscuits... at least I think I do... and even though they are still incredibly cheap I am actually very upset. (Full disclosure would require me to admit to having not eaten them since I graduated from college nearly 6 years ago. But still... that seems an awful lot, and it completely ruins one of the longest-running, non-funny jokes I still tell.)

The backstory: my friend Matt Larson and I used to drive back from school together over Thanksgiving and Easter Break. I think we might have made five or six 9-hour trips from DC to Furman University, and there were two constants: stories of Goatman Johnny (more to follow) and Bo-Berry Biscuits. Matt and I would plan stops around a Bojangles in southern Virginia so we could get biscuits which, for all intents and purposes, should have given us diabetes.

At one such stop, Matt and I were ironically and loudly contemplating buying just one biscuit, separate from one another. I think the price per individual biscuit was like $0.59. So we were making a huge - and to us, hilarious - show of trying to scrounge around for enough change so we could buy them independent of one another, when a kindly old man, maybe 65 or 70 years old, reminded us with every ounce of his folksy Southern wisdom that it'd be cheaper to buy two at the same time. He did it with such a straight face and with such concern in his eyes, oblivious to our sarcasm and probably concerned that two young kids would spend too much money. (In retrospect, the next paragraph will make me seem like an ass. But I digress.)

Okay, independent of that explanation (or maybe in spite of it) what he said was not funny. We have retold that story to our friends countless times and, still, no one has laughed. Still, whenever Matt leaves me a voice mail I know he'll remind me of this lesson we received in Keynesian Economics in South Hill, Virginia, and I know he is confident that I will do the same. But now, I would assume maybe its not cheaper to buy two

Why is this important? I don't quite know. Incredibly trivial matters like this have seemed all-important lately. I am in Maryland now hoarding Yuenglings and yearning for my mom to cut celery and carrots and serve them with ranch dressing. Last night my dad and I walked around the neighborhood in the bitter cold, smoking cigars and talking sports. Even as I write this, my dog is sitting next to me, forcing me to type one-handed so I can still pet him. In 45 minutes I am going to leave my parents' house - and my loving dog - for over a year so I can train Iraqi Soldiers how to do a job which, honestly, they should have been doing by themselves for years now. Compared to the awesome task of handing the reins of power of a fledgling and always-on-the-verge-of-corruption democracy to a ragtag group of Soldiers who are underpaid and at times woefully undertrained, Yeunglings and black labs seem to pale. But still it's all I can think about. And it's all I want to think about. I would want to think it says something about growing up in suburbia with loving parents and supportive friends then having to sacrifice both to accomplish a greater good. Or maybe it speaks to what I hold important being the motivation for training these Iraqis - and fighting alongside them - so that their kids can one day be concerned with nothing more than after-school snacks and comfortable beds. I am not sure I am smart enough to make either connection.