I am afraid that the High Commander is becoming like my mother. She is claiming that I am not her
husband anymore. You know these words scared me badly. If I was not her husband, who could I be? Had
aliens invaded my body and taken over? Had I woken up in another dimension other than my own? Maybe it
was I that was somehow not in my right mind? How had all this confusion started?
Well lets see. Not having access to a fingerprint expert I would have to pursue other avenues of
discovery. Everyone at work still called me David. At least my CO-workers thought I was the same person. I
was encouraged by this. The face I saw in the mirror was the same as the one on the drivers license I had in
what I guessed was my wallet. A man in the neighboring house yelled out to me the other day using the
name David. All this evidence, at least to my satisfaction, proved that I was David. So what was the problem
with my apparent identity crises with The High Commander?
It all started with the purchase of the Oberahteen. The what you wonder? Oh it is just a Russian name I am
calling the Truck. Sure it has some significance to this discussion and I will tell you about it later.
Well anyway The High Commander claims that I have completely changed. In all the time that we have
been married she claims not to have ever seen me wash my Toyota truck. Well I don't think that is true but
for the life of me I cannot remember when the last time was that I washed the toy truck. Why is that
significant? Well I guess that in the last ten days or so I have washed the Oberahteen 4 or 5 times.
She also claims that soap or the by-products there of have never been a major interest of mine. Now
though I must admit that I seem to have a powerful desire to cruise by the truck wash products looking for
just the right one for me, and the orbital waxer sitting there on the shelf virtually jumped to the bottom of the
shopping cart I was pushing. When The High Commander saw it laying there like a large neon sign, all she
said was "It's a disease, It's a disease." I thought she was talking about the plants she was looking at. But it
was soon clear to me that it was I that she was designating as diseased. People around us were avoiding
coming too close to me. It was embarrassing.
The last straw was when a couple of neighbors strolled by while I was improving the look of the
Oberahteen. Well OK I was washing it. Yes I can admit it. The High Commander and a friend were watching
me from the porch as these two neighbors strolled by. One was heard to comment to the other that he could
not remember having ever seen me wash my other truck. After a quick translation to her friend of this
comment, there was heard a joyful laughter from the porch. You know the kind that says "I told you so."
Well maybe I should start calling myself the "Oberahteen." It seems that the simple act of buying a Truck
has changed me, the same as the moon causes the OBERAHTEEN (werewolf) to change.
husband anymore. You know these words scared me badly. If I was not her husband, who could I be? Had
aliens invaded my body and taken over? Had I woken up in another dimension other than my own? Maybe it
was I that was somehow not in my right mind? How had all this confusion started?
Well lets see. Not having access to a fingerprint expert I would have to pursue other avenues of
discovery. Everyone at work still called me David. At least my CO-workers thought I was the same person. I
was encouraged by this. The face I saw in the mirror was the same as the one on the drivers license I had in
what I guessed was my wallet. A man in the neighboring house yelled out to me the other day using the
name David. All this evidence, at least to my satisfaction, proved that I was David. So what was the problem
with my apparent identity crises with The High Commander?
It all started with the purchase of the Oberahteen. The what you wonder? Oh it is just a Russian name I am
calling the Truck. Sure it has some significance to this discussion and I will tell you about it later.
Well anyway The High Commander claims that I have completely changed. In all the time that we have
been married she claims not to have ever seen me wash my Toyota truck. Well I don't think that is true but
for the life of me I cannot remember when the last time was that I washed the toy truck. Why is that
significant? Well I guess that in the last ten days or so I have washed the Oberahteen 4 or 5 times.
She also claims that soap or the by-products there of have never been a major interest of mine. Now
though I must admit that I seem to have a powerful desire to cruise by the truck wash products looking for
just the right one for me, and the orbital waxer sitting there on the shelf virtually jumped to the bottom of the
shopping cart I was pushing. When The High Commander saw it laying there like a large neon sign, all she
said was "It's a disease, It's a disease." I thought she was talking about the plants she was looking at. But it
was soon clear to me that it was I that she was designating as diseased. People around us were avoiding
coming too close to me. It was embarrassing.
The last straw was when a couple of neighbors strolled by while I was improving the look of the
Oberahteen. Well OK I was washing it. Yes I can admit it. The High Commander and a friend were watching
me from the porch as these two neighbors strolled by. One was heard to comment to the other that he could
not remember having ever seen me wash my other truck. After a quick translation to her friend of this
comment, there was heard a joyful laughter from the porch. You know the kind that says "I told you so."
Well maybe I should start calling myself the "Oberahteen." It seems that the simple act of buying a Truck
has changed me, the same as the moon causes the OBERAHTEEN (werewolf) to change.
Obrahteen
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