Little Green Army Men

When I stood in the IKEA parking lot on Columbus Blvd in South Philly, my third eye captured something extravagant. Across the Blvd rests a retired ocean liner. One for the ages, one that set records at sea, one that sets off nostalgia and romance in my upper levels. I find it beautiful to have this luxury cruiser parked at this pier across from IKEA. It took dreams to fruition, it was rigged to transport troops in an hour of chaos, it overlooks the waters navigated by George Washington on a historic Christmas Eve. I get the goosebumps on my forearms thinking of her elegance and her promise. Handcrafted in the boughs of the shipbuilding capital of Norfolk, now residing in Philly. A sign of American power, pride, strength and hope. USS United States. Her stats are easily found online. Her presence is not. Somewhere between the parking lot for IKEA and Longhorn Steakhouse, you can see her in full frontal glory and feel the mist from her rusty rails. It’s like Philly herself: somewhat old and tired, but industrially equipped to power up the anchor and steam forward into the hour of progressive chaos. Ready for war and/or peace.

So, I dedicate the efforts of the green army men as the spirit of this hulking ship. These dudes are down in the trenches, ready to defend her honor like true gentlemen. They rest in the mulched beds of the IKEA parking lot. They wait, dignified in the shadows, to unleash fury on any who attempt to torpedo her. Be mindful, German subs would have loved to be up in these waters decades ago. At their post, the fellas are ready for front line land to sea combat, don’t let the Strike Eagle’s barrel up the Delaware River either. She waits for restoration, quietly, patiently, stoically.