Hi-ya ...
I saw you walking down tha hall at the hotel, in your camo outfit. I knew you were off and running. I saw the cold stare of god upon you in the fog o' morn, and the stern expression in your step. You are going to Iraq.
Each person makes their own way.
Friend.
No slick speeches today from me, me man ... I think we can all agree that we wanna see you come home, tha sooner the better. And don't fucking die, because that will really piss me off. Yeah, just come home alive, ok? Is it right, is it wrong, is it, IS IT?? We're the comeback kids, remember! You've got a good heart, and a fine mind. You are smart and true. Use it out there.
This means, my brother in the struggle, that I encourage you to be the guy out there with wits. Be tha guy who says to the other fellas, "Do the right thing." Yeah. Be valiant. Be the "alternative" to madness out there. So you're going, you're going ... You are about Shakespeare and Hemingway. Use whatchya see out there to right YOUR book. Be tough, be wise, be genius in disguise. (Hey, that's good.) Let's keep talking and exploring the human condition.
You know how I feel about it. No time for the soapbox. You're going. Keep your mind and body fit, your ass squeaky clean. Be the good American. Be parapatetic, move 'n' groove, baby ... like that night we discussed all this, when I was singing in the bar. We all perform in different ways. I know you believe in goodness in mankind and true freedom and all that nice other stuff.
Be valiant.
We support you. We are proud of you. See you when you get back, Jack.
-Todd