I’ve been looking here and there, searching everywhere, for a story idea to jump out from the bushes.
It’s either a way with words or a war with words–never in-between.
Couldn’t get on WP for a time, and was going to use that for an excuse.
I can’t reflect on the passing of Gregg Allman, without strains of “Midnight Rider” running through my head.
Bluesy, Southern Rock from the land of hot, humid summers, kudzu, and sweet tea–my favorite genre of music.
Tomorrow, November 11th, is the day set aside to honor all veterans from past and present. There will be parades, ceremonies, free dinners. Not all will participate. Some veterans would never think of tooting their own horns.
As far as I’m concerned we can never do enough to honor those that served. For some families there were loved ones that never returned. Celebrating this day would be too painful.
Now, there seem to be conflicts all over the world. Young men and women still put their lives on the line. All veterans deserve respect–whether or not you think war is right or wrong–whatever your political leanings happen to be.
My father in the above picture is dressed in “suntans.” His tie is neatly bloused. We called khaki uniforms “1505’s,” when I was in the Air Force in the seventies. Things changed from wartime to cold war, then peacetime.
One thing we had in common–we both served overseas. Father was a truck driver and mechanic. I was a medical corpsman.
From the labyrinth
Came an idea
It didn’t stay
It was annoying
Shook things up
Came from all sides
Lacked sympathy, empathy
Espoused class warfare
It was hard to put to bed
At the official
Of the summer
American tourists were arrested recently for defacing the Roman Colosseum–taking a selfie, afterward to show how proud they were. They deserve what they get from the Roman courts. A few months earlier. some young men, toppled a balanced rock formation, that stood for centuries in the American West.
They were no different from ISIS, in what they did–defacing antiquities and historic monuments. Perhaps, these latest violators, didn’t go quite as far–there was no total destruction. That’s not the point. Like ISIS soldiers, (I hesitate to call them soldiers), this monument to civilization meant nothing to them. What’s next–graffiti tagging the Sistine Chapel?
It’s not the first time, the Colosseum’s been defaced–that still didn’t make it right. All of this in the name of self-indulgence ran amok. It’s no wonder we’re hated overseas as ugly, boorish Americans; I’m ashamed to share the same country with you. I resent being painted with the same broad brush.