A Bridge and Tons Of Ignorance

Today the Veterans Memorial Bridge is opening in Smalltown, USA. As I've ranted before, there is no bridge or other large display in Smalltown dedicated to truly integral members of day-to-day life (health care workers, teachers, truck drivers.)

Actually, during the 40th president's reign in office in the 1980s, the bridge took on a new name. You guessed it, Ronald Reagan Bridge. But that was pretty short-lived. The gun-fighters with high-n-tights got their bridge back when Ron began to forget what a bridge was.

What really burns my proverbial cookies is that so few people seem to be aware of why currently surviving veterans went to war in the first place. To save our country??? WTF???

WW1, WW2, Korea, Viet Nam, El Salvador, Iraq (versions 1 & 2). These wars were about money, oil, and political philosophy. But rarely to keep Americans safe or "democracy" safe. Is it any wonder that the King in the present game is having an increasingly difficult time scraping up automatonic pawns. Maybe if the present generations put today and yesterday together, they will figure out that this mindless practice is not a new idea.

Armistice Day

Can we give up this Veteran's Day schlock? Really!!! The holiday is called Armistice Day and the date reflects the formal end of mortar fire in World War One. The 11th hour, the 11th day, the 11th month, 1918. No more, no less.

I grew up with a World War One vet, my paternal grandfather. Yes, the generations were quite spread out. But he never mentioned a word about his time in the army. About eight years ago, I interviewed two World War One vets in the same day at a nursing facility. I would have gotten three, but the third gentleman was comatose. A couple years later I went back and one of the men was still around, aged 103. Still full of memories of his life, which he let me record.

Obviously it's inevitable, but it pains me that the veterans of the Great War are disappearing. It's not only my favourite time in US History, it's also the first war whose final survivors I'm actually noticing as they leave this earth. Nevertheless, they receive(d) little attention because big bad World War II overshadowed their fight.

By the way, when pronouncing "veteran", please use all the letters. It's not "vet'ran". I'd think that people who wish to celebrate a holiday for war and death could pronounce the "V" word. Why no holiday for farmers who feed us or teachers who educate us or doctors who heal us, etc?

Fantasy Sports--What's Up With That???

As Homer Simpson said, perhaps I've been misguided. But I suspect not. I find the entire genre of fantasy sports truly bizarre. Having never really engaged in fantasy sports, I understand that players have the option of putting together teams that would otherwise never assemble. They subsequently play big, pretend games. More games to live and die with, like the real professional sports weren't enough.

This knocks on virtual/surreal history. Writers take the time to suggest what would have happened if some major event in history had gone a different way. The point??? There is art. There is creation. But for me, this falls far short of either.

The Imploding Gut

Two women who were once close friends of my ex and my mother, respectively, went under the knife for gastric bypass in the past couple years. And they have both become very different creatures--externally. Internally I have no idea. I never speak with them. I just view them in passing or on Yahoo! Personals.

Today I sat outside the local McDonald's, as it was inundated with ravaging hoards. As I ate a snack of mushrooms, celery, and an apple, I wondered how much artery sludge comes out of one McDonald's in one day. There is an unbelievable variety of folk who do the McD's routine. From the mentally disabled to the hardworking joe to the state's attorney. They were all there today.

Imagine if everybody boycotted biological hell-holes like McDonald's for one day (or better yet, forever.) The trouble is, this would violate kapitalism. And kapitalism doesn't care whom it kills, just so the money gets divided a little more finely amidst a smaller head count.

Alan Parsons Was Right About That

Time stands still for no one. And the Parsons Band said it best with their song "Time". The Guinness Book once asserted that it is theoretically possible to have more generations of great grandchildren than anyone in recorded modern history has ever cranked out. My family tree hasn't approached that level, but there have been some interesting waves. Not atypical.

A couple of weeks back, I wrote about a pretty pretty bridal shower for my cousin's daughter. This sparked thought in my head, and not good thought at that. While many of us have committed dark acts that Senate sub-committees would jump on like crows on raw meat (my cousin included) I believe my dark sordid past is having its turn.

No, I'm not paranoid. I don't believe that people living lives, watching TV, ordering carry-out, planning a wedding, and holding down jobs have nothing better to do than talk about me. But they are hip to elements of what I did, just as I could say this about them.

This is where judgment comes in. Are they judgmental? Do they forgive? Do they forget? Or do they just pretend like they never knew? I guess if I ever see them, I may learn the answer. I will lose no sleep wondering.