A thousand or so soldiers of the 82nd Airborne have been engaged in “the largest US military operation in Afghanistan since Operation Anaconda just over a year ago.”

Likely, Rob’s brother Brendan is one of them.

Not so long ago, it seemed almost unbelievable that someone I’d met — someone who’d shaken his head at the antiquated music his brother and I were rocking out to at the Laserium show in Golden Gate Park — might shortly be shipping out to an honest-to-God combat zone.

This evening, with the radio nattering about cruise missiles and F-117s, and with 300,000 troops poised to invade Iraq, it almost seems tasteless to bring up the fact that Brendan’s quite possibly shooting and getting shot at — I mean, Afghanistan, that’s so last year. But the war in Afghanistan is no less real than the one in Iraq; maybe more real, as long as our worst fears are’t realized.

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As for Iraq, I guess there’s nothing to do but get it over with as quickly as possible so that we can hand the place over to the fine people at Halliburton subsidiary Brown & Root.

It’s after the [1960] election, and the Democrats win. Kennedy and Johnson are sittin’ in the Oval Office the first day, and the phone rings. It’s the Pope of Rome (Texans used to specify “of Rome,” lest you should confuse him with some other pope) on the phone. He says, “John, my boy, the Vatican roof is leaking something fierce, we were hopin’ y’all might fix it for us.”

“Of course, Mr. Pope, sir. Just let me check with my vice president. Lyndon, the Pope’s on the phone and wants to know if we can fix the Vatican roof for him.”

“That’s fine with me,” says Johnson. “Just make sure Brown & Root gets the contract.”

—— Texas traditional, as told by Molly Ivins