Speaking of old war stories, I should tell you about this time I was idling in California for a bit. Met this dame, great lady really enjoyed her company, in the biblical sense if you get what I'm saying. Long story short she tells me "if it's a boy I want to name him Acid, after his great-great grandfather" and I says "sounds perfect sweetheart". Needless to say, that night I'm tossing a suitcase into a moving boxcar and I'm ridin' the rails north. In the Tacoma yard I luck out and find a passenger line heading East and I'm back on the prairie before you can say tickety-boo.