Well, dear reader, this a story, true enough but somewhat tongue in cheek, about one base commander obsessed with grass. More particularly he was worried about the height of the grass in the on-base housing area. Residents just weren't taking as much interest in grass as they should, thought that fretful commander.

So concerned was the colonel about the height of grass that he would drive his staff car through the housing area to check on grass. He even carried a white-tipped stick to measure how tall the grass was. Woe be to the resident if the colonel discovered that the grass was taller than the white-painted end of that measuring stick. Official warnings and reprimands could follow such violations of official grass standards. The colonel would see to that. His base was to be the picture-perfect image of what landscaping and grass grooming was all about. Non-mowers beware.

One day, while the colonel was on a routine grass check through the housing area, he passed down a winding street. Just as he approached a sweeping left turn in the street his eyes were drawn to something of special interest. Was it a house with unduly tall grass? Was it a hedge not properly trimmed? No indeed. It was something else entirely.

What drew the colonel's eyes to his left so intently was the sight of a very attractive woman working in her front yard garden. She was a statuesque brunette in shorts and a halter top, a strikingly attractive woman who got the colonel's full attention. In fact, he was so distracted that he forgot he was driving down a curving street and soon wound up on the grass of the house across the street from the object of his attention.

And, wouldn't you know it, that happened on the day that the occupant of that house had fully watered his grass. The colonel's car left deep ruts in the grass, a tell-tall mark of his wayward driving.