The Colonel – Bruce Farqhaur….
“Stiff upper lip now” the old man would mutter as he marched about the parking lot as if it were a parade square, reminiscing about his earlier days.
Stopping in front of the ‘Authorized Parking Only’ sign, he looked it up and down and huffed in disappointment. “Chest out, stomach in! When were your boots last polished Private? I expect to see the reflection of my face in those boots!”
Turning to the metal fence pole,” Sargent Major, put this man on report!”

The thing with old Colonels is that they used to be young Lieutenants. A young man, barely past his teens, with a razor stubble that ran across his upper lip like the residue from a cup of hot chocolate. From a small distance it resembled a dirt smear that no amount of mommy spit could remove. That moustache is testimony, a symbol that grew and thickened with experience through time.
Mounted on his horse at a full gallop, he charges into the cauldron of war. His saber held out in front of him as he leads his men into battle. In the distance he can hear the enemy cannons firing and the bullets high pitched sound as they fly past him. He sees the enemy’s infantry approach in a controlled march and observe their movements as they try to outflank his frontal assault. He can hear the enemy’s officers issuing their commands, “Ok Colonel, put down your cane. That was just the delivery truck back firing when it started.”
The Colonel stopped and looked around. Realizing he was in the parking lot of his retirement home; he placed his cane under his arm like a swagger stick. “Right chaps, teatime in the officer’s mess. Let the Major know I need to see him about one final campaign.”
Bruce and the Colonel have a lot in common, both leaders, both passionate, both a little confused and prone to wandering. Bruce can often be seen in the parking lot at work, stumbling about and yelling into a cell phone with dead batteries. The final campaign in the cauldron of war the Colonel talked about was childhood cancer. A war fought on many fronts. The Colonel can’t fight this war by himself. He needs an army, he needs you. Bruce also wants to fight childhood cancer, but we can’t give him a saber because they are sharp, and he will hurt himself. All wars demand a sacrifice. Bruce will sacrifice his mustache, maybe you could sacrifice a week’s worth of latte’s. Donate now so we can send a child to camp, fund new research, and give hope where hope did not exist before.