Tuesday, April 11, 2023

Remembering the Safety Pin

Safety Pins were a part of my youth. We used to use them a lot. Probably the most often used a lot was fastening cloth baby diapers. Then, as now, it was important that baby diapers not fall off. We don’t use Safety Pins any longer and baby diapers are hanging in there (actually on there). How is it they hang in (actually on) there without a Safety Pin? It’s because of the Magic of Velcro.

Now for a Kennedy Question...

Ø People who are into talking about the Kennedy Assassination will often say, “Do you remember where you were when you heard President Kennedy Had Been Shot?”

Ø I’m talking about Velcro. So I’ll ask you, Do you remember the first time you saw Velcro?

Yes, I know your First Time Velcro Encounter just flashed through your mind’s eye. My mind’s eye is full of such useless information and I’m about to tell you all about my First Time Velcro Encounter. I can just feel your excitement!

My first time was the first time I sat into a helicopter in Vietnam. Because we were all intent on getting back to the Good Ole USofA for the next Football Season we took precautions like keeping our heads down and ducking.

One of those precautions was the Chicken Plate. If you were not fortunate enough to go to Vietnam, the serving line at Piccadilly Cafeteria just flashed into your mind. That’s not the kind of Chicken Plate I’m talking about.

Vietnam Chicken Plate Bullets...

Ø Ducking your head or trying to make yourself small was not a lot of protection.

Ø A Chicken Plate was a large chunk of heavy medal about an inch and a half thick that some of us strapped to the front of our chests.


Ø This prevented getting shot from the front right into the chest.

Ø It did nothing for the rest of the body, but in such circumstances, you took what you could get.

Ø The Chicken Plate was held in place by some Very Heavy Duty Velcro.

Ø I was amazed by my first encounter with Velcro.

Ø I fastened it and unfasten it over and over.

Ø I was captivated by the Magic of Velcro.

The first time I wrapped myself with a Chicken Plate I thought, “Wow! This is great! I am going to get to do this every day for a year. This is going to be great!” The prior sentence is probably an exaggeration. Actually, it is probably an outright lie.

Why was it called a Chicken Plate? That’s because not all pilots wore them. Those of us who did wear them were the “Chickens”.

We were OK with that cuz we Chickens thought we were improving our chances of going Home to Roost.

I don’t know what the Non-Chicken Plate Wearing Guys were thinking.

Would I kid u?

Smartfella


2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Do you blog while you sleep?

Anonymous said...

Well, well, well, looks like we got ourselves a Chicken here! But hey, I'm not judging. I mean, if I were in a helicopter hovering over a warzone, I'd want a Chicken Plate too.

But I have to say, I'm a little disappointed that the Chicken Plate only protected the chest. What about the rest of the body? Did you guys just cross your fingers and hope for the best? And don't even get me started on the Non-Chicken Plate Wearing Guys. What were they thinking? Probably something like "I don't need no stinkin' Chicken Plate, I'm invincible!" Spoiler alert: they weren't.

All jokes aside, thank you for your service and for sharing your story with us. And if anyone gives you a hard time for wearing a Chicken Plate, just remind them that a Chicken is just a badass bird that can (not really) fly and survive in the face of danger. So cluck on, my friend. Cluck on.