Yesterday, of course, was Thanksgiving Day. It is the time, once each year, where we Americans stop - or at least are supposed to - and give thanks for our many blessings. According to most, it began in the early 1600's, as Pilgrims began the practice of celebrating a Harvest festival as was customary in Europe at the time.
Over the years since, Thanksgiving Day has morphed into what it is today, a National Day of thanks for our many blessings - and on the lesser side of things, a day to stuff ourselves with Turkey and the many accompanying foods that make up our feast of the day; watch football; and prepare for the onslaught of "Black Friday", the horrendous start of Christmas gift buying.
As I awoke today, I thought of just how fortunate I - and my family are. Though none of us are wealthy, we live rather comfortably compared to the majority of the world. Yet, like most, I find myself complaining almost daily about some little thing or another. Today, it was about how cold it was outside when I walked down my driveway to get the morning newspaper. I temporarily forgot that I had this rather large home I lived in that sheltered me from the cold outside - a cold that many of our homeless had to face last night without any type of roof over their head.
I also didn't give a second thought to the fact that all I had to do was press a button and my garage door opened magically, thereby enabling me to avoid lifting that incredibly hefty door physically AND cutting the distance I had to walk to & from the paper in the driveway in half.
Nor did I think of the blessing I have in being able to afford to subscribe to the daily newspaper - instead of having to find a days-old one. Or, the fact, that I could read at all - something that many in the world can't do.
As the morning progressed a bit, I became upset when my wife told me her car wouldn't start as the battery was dead - she'd have to use mine. Not for a second did I give thanks that we had two cars which enabled her to not miss her appointment.
All I described occurred in a relatively short period of time this morning and I'm sure there will be other things that transpire throughout the day that I forget to recognize, or give thanks for. Just as there will be tomorrow and the 364 days until next Thanksgiving Day.
It will also happen to all who read this.
I suppose it is human nature to complain when something doesn't meet our satisfaction, but should we reserve our gratitude for only one day a year? We all know the answer to this question. We just don't practice it.
Old Fart Mike
Friday, November 26, 2010
Monday, November 22, 2010
November 22nd
"...all of us... will bear the grief of his death until the day of ours." - Adlai Stevenson
On November 22nd, 1963, the unthinkable happened. The President of the United States, a young, handsome, and witty man, with a beautiful wife, and two young children was assassinated. His name, of course, was John Fitzgerald Kennedy. He was the first Irish Catholic President ever elected to the highest office in the land.
I was a Senior in high school at the time when our principal, through the P.A. system announced that he had been shot. He then left the radio on so that all of the faculty and students could hear. It was early in Southern California where I grew up - and when the broadcaster announced that our President had died, at approximately 11:00 AM PST, everyone was simply stunned. We looked around at each other but none of us spoke.
Some of us, like myself, who idolized President Kennedy, were heartbroken. Word quickly was passed that an all-school assembly would take place shortly. I don't remember how much time elapsed until the entire student body, along with all members of the faculty assembled in our gym, but it was a grim and silent affair. The thing that stood out in my mind then - and still does now - was when one of our teachers, Mr. Lanzarotta, recited the Walt Whitman poem, "O Captain, My captain". Many in the assembled crowd couldn't help but sob. Others like myself, somehow held back the tears - until later.
We were released from school shortly afterward. But it was not with the glee that would usually follow an early dismissal from school. There was absolutely nothing to be happy about.
I arrived home to find a tearful grandmother with the Television on. Both my mom and dad arrived home at their normal times from work. They, likewise, were very upset, fighting back the tears. For one of the very few times I can ever remember, we ate while in front of the TV - a practice not ever condoned in our household. We spent most of our next three days in front of that television. Mealtimes too.
My family was an Irish Catholic one - just like JFK. So that was one of the reasons why I idolized him. I've often told people that, aside from family pictures and Jesus, Kennedy's was the only other person whose picture adorned the walls of my family home. The other reasons I suppose were many. He was the first President I ever really paid any attention to. I imagine that was because of my age - nearing adulthood. Also, because of his relative youth in comparison to the man he was replacing (Eisenhower). Other attributes that appealed to me were his incredible wit and beautiful wife and family.
He inspired many in my generation and his death - at least to me - was the beginning of the end of innocence. Only a few short years later, I volunteered for his brother, Bobby, who was running for President. His assassination was the final blow to my innocence.
The Kennedy brothers offered so much hope to us all back then. Yet today, 47 years later, JFK's assassination seems to merit only brief mentions in the newspapers. It doesn't seem to be as important as Justin Bieber winning awards at last nights American Music Awards show.
I suppose that is how life - and, eventually death - goes. But, for those of us who were around in those days, we will never forget where we were when we heard the news of the assassination of JFK.
Old Fart Mike
On November 22nd, 1963, the unthinkable happened. The President of the United States, a young, handsome, and witty man, with a beautiful wife, and two young children was assassinated. His name, of course, was John Fitzgerald Kennedy. He was the first Irish Catholic President ever elected to the highest office in the land.
I was a Senior in high school at the time when our principal, through the P.A. system announced that he had been shot. He then left the radio on so that all of the faculty and students could hear. It was early in Southern California where I grew up - and when the broadcaster announced that our President had died, at approximately 11:00 AM PST, everyone was simply stunned. We looked around at each other but none of us spoke.
Some of us, like myself, who idolized President Kennedy, were heartbroken. Word quickly was passed that an all-school assembly would take place shortly. I don't remember how much time elapsed until the entire student body, along with all members of the faculty assembled in our gym, but it was a grim and silent affair. The thing that stood out in my mind then - and still does now - was when one of our teachers, Mr. Lanzarotta, recited the Walt Whitman poem, "O Captain, My captain". Many in the assembled crowd couldn't help but sob. Others like myself, somehow held back the tears - until later.
We were released from school shortly afterward. But it was not with the glee that would usually follow an early dismissal from school. There was absolutely nothing to be happy about.
I arrived home to find a tearful grandmother with the Television on. Both my mom and dad arrived home at their normal times from work. They, likewise, were very upset, fighting back the tears. For one of the very few times I can ever remember, we ate while in front of the TV - a practice not ever condoned in our household. We spent most of our next three days in front of that television. Mealtimes too.
My family was an Irish Catholic one - just like JFK. So that was one of the reasons why I idolized him. I've often told people that, aside from family pictures and Jesus, Kennedy's was the only other person whose picture adorned the walls of my family home. The other reasons I suppose were many. He was the first President I ever really paid any attention to. I imagine that was because of my age - nearing adulthood. Also, because of his relative youth in comparison to the man he was replacing (Eisenhower). Other attributes that appealed to me were his incredible wit and beautiful wife and family.
He inspired many in my generation and his death - at least to me - was the beginning of the end of innocence. Only a few short years later, I volunteered for his brother, Bobby, who was running for President. His assassination was the final blow to my innocence.
The Kennedy brothers offered so much hope to us all back then. Yet today, 47 years later, JFK's assassination seems to merit only brief mentions in the newspapers. It doesn't seem to be as important as Justin Bieber winning awards at last nights American Music Awards show.
I suppose that is how life - and, eventually death - goes. But, for those of us who were around in those days, we will never forget where we were when we heard the news of the assassination of JFK.
Old Fart Mike
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Veterans Day
Yesterday, was the 235th birthday of the Marine Corps - and Today, of course, is Veterans Day. I happen to have T-shirts that my bride found for me bearing the Bulldog mascot and the USMC logo on it. I wore yesterday and am doing so again today.
Though I was fortunate enough not to have been shipped overseas to Viet Nam during my stint in the Corps, I knew many, many Marines who did go. Some didn't come back, and some did - though they came back changed - either physically, or mentally.
My dad was also a Marine. Unlike me, he enlisted in the Corps a month after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. He was almost 31 years old at the time; married; and, a father of two sons. He didn't have to enlist, yet felt it his patriotic duty, despite leaving his wife and two boys at home in Chicago to fend for themselves. At his age, he was called "Pops" in boot camp, because most of the rest of the recruits were at least 10 years younger than him.
My dad, after boot camp, fought in the Pacific. If you watched any of the recent HBO series "The Pacific", they spoke of the 5th Marines from time to time. That is the unit my father served in. He fought on Iwo Jima, Tinian, and Saipan and probably some other islands, both those are all either my brothers or I can remember.
My dad returned home finally sometime in 1945, the year before I was born. He was the victim of "Shell-Shock" or what they call today Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). According to what my brothers have told me, he spent several months in a military hospital in San Diego before they allowed him to come home to his family. They recall that he was indeed a different man upon arrival home. Shaking almost uncontrollably and nervous as hell, he would drop to the ground upon hearing a loud noise. His sleep and that of the family was interrupted virtually nightly by his screaming and crying. It took a while - don't know how long - for doctors to get this under control. Fortunately, by the time I was born and old enough to know anything, this by-product of too many battles had ceased.
However, like so many veterans of combat, he would never discuss much about it. About all I could get out of him was where he had fought and that it was awful. Though we lived in California from 1954 until he died in 1979, he would never even take my mom to Hawaii. He steadfastly refused, saying, "I've had enough of islands to last me the rest of my life."
The last couple of days I've been reflecting on Veterans, Wars, the Marines, and related things, so this one really hit home. My Dad's birthday was just a couple weeks ago too - October 23rd. Had he lived, he would've been 100, as we was born in 1910.
My time in the Corps was - after Boot Camp - just like having a poor-paying job. I lived on base at El Toro in Santa Ana, California - a mere 30 miles or so from my parents home. Had my own car and actually only had to stay on base one out of every four nights and one out of every four weekends, so, when I had something going - a date, a party, etc. - I just got in my car and took off. It was simply a minor inconvenience. However, the Unit I was with was a Helicopter Training Group.
What this meant to me was that my fellow Marines were either rookies, like me, or returned veterans from Viet Nam. The purpose of our Unit was to train the rookies to go over to Viet Nam. So, I had interaction with both. We lived in a barracks that was divided off into cubicles with 4 beds. In my particular cubicle I had 2 returned Vets and another rookie. In the cubicle directly across from us were 3 rookies and 1 vet. I was close friends with all of these guys. We were like brothers. 2 of the Vets had PTSD, including one in my cube, and I will never forget the night I took him to a party of my friends from work in L.A. He had flashbacks and refought the war for a long time, until I and a guy I used to work with brought him down and restrained him. Obviously, it ruined the night for him and the 30 or so Civilians that were there. He was a war hero too, which makes it even worse. He had received a Bronze Star for his heroic efforts during his tour in Viet Nam.
Two of the guys - the rookies - went to Nam, and never returned. One was a helicopter gunner (I was trained for this too, as a back-up - which they did to all the Clerk-typists, since these guys were getting killed so quickly), and the other was simply a "Grunt" or infantryman. One of the Vets went back for a 2nd tour and was KIA. Another of the "rookies" came back missing a leg, and at least one has PTSD. Don't know what happened to the others.
So many of the other guys I served with were so messed up after their combat tour, it wasn't funny.
I also remember one day, I was in uniform in downtown L.A., going to my former place of employment to visit my friends, and while crossing the street, having someone spit at me and yell out "Baby Killer!!"
The sad part of it all is that while I feel so blessed that I didn't have to go fight in Viet Nam, I've always felt a little guilty too. So many of my friends went and I, somehow, avoided it. So, while I served and am "Technically" a veteran, I never had to pay the price by fighting overseas in a war. I think about this from time to time, counting my blessings while fighting my guilt.
Though I was fortunate enough not to have been shipped overseas to Viet Nam during my stint in the Corps, I knew many, many Marines who did go. Some didn't come back, and some did - though they came back changed - either physically, or mentally.
My dad was also a Marine. Unlike me, he enlisted in the Corps a month after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor. He was almost 31 years old at the time; married; and, a father of two sons. He didn't have to enlist, yet felt it his patriotic duty, despite leaving his wife and two boys at home in Chicago to fend for themselves. At his age, he was called "Pops" in boot camp, because most of the rest of the recruits were at least 10 years younger than him.
My dad, after boot camp, fought in the Pacific. If you watched any of the recent HBO series "The Pacific", they spoke of the 5th Marines from time to time. That is the unit my father served in. He fought on Iwo Jima, Tinian, and Saipan and probably some other islands, both those are all either my brothers or I can remember.
My dad returned home finally sometime in 1945, the year before I was born. He was the victim of "Shell-Shock" or what they call today Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). According to what my brothers have told me, he spent several months in a military hospital in San Diego before they allowed him to come home to his family. They recall that he was indeed a different man upon arrival home. Shaking almost uncontrollably and nervous as hell, he would drop to the ground upon hearing a loud noise. His sleep and that of the family was interrupted virtually nightly by his screaming and crying. It took a while - don't know how long - for doctors to get this under control. Fortunately, by the time I was born and old enough to know anything, this by-product of too many battles had ceased.
However, like so many veterans of combat, he would never discuss much about it. About all I could get out of him was where he had fought and that it was awful. Though we lived in California from 1954 until he died in 1979, he would never even take my mom to Hawaii. He steadfastly refused, saying, "I've had enough of islands to last me the rest of my life."
The last couple of days I've been reflecting on Veterans, Wars, the Marines, and related things, so this one really hit home. My Dad's birthday was just a couple weeks ago too - October 23rd. Had he lived, he would've been 100, as we was born in 1910.
My time in the Corps was - after Boot Camp - just like having a poor-paying job. I lived on base at El Toro in Santa Ana, California - a mere 30 miles or so from my parents home. Had my own car and actually only had to stay on base one out of every four nights and one out of every four weekends, so, when I had something going - a date, a party, etc. - I just got in my car and took off. It was simply a minor inconvenience. However, the Unit I was with was a Helicopter Training Group.
What this meant to me was that my fellow Marines were either rookies, like me, or returned veterans from Viet Nam. The purpose of our Unit was to train the rookies to go over to Viet Nam. So, I had interaction with both. We lived in a barracks that was divided off into cubicles with 4 beds. In my particular cubicle I had 2 returned Vets and another rookie. In the cubicle directly across from us were 3 rookies and 1 vet. I was close friends with all of these guys. We were like brothers. 2 of the Vets had PTSD, including one in my cube, and I will never forget the night I took him to a party of my friends from work in L.A. He had flashbacks and refought the war for a long time, until I and a guy I used to work with brought him down and restrained him. Obviously, it ruined the night for him and the 30 or so Civilians that were there. He was a war hero too, which makes it even worse. He had received a Bronze Star for his heroic efforts during his tour in Viet Nam.
Two of the guys - the rookies - went to Nam, and never returned. One was a helicopter gunner (I was trained for this too, as a back-up - which they did to all the Clerk-typists, since these guys were getting killed so quickly), and the other was simply a "Grunt" or infantryman. One of the Vets went back for a 2nd tour and was KIA. Another of the "rookies" came back missing a leg, and at least one has PTSD. Don't know what happened to the others.
So many of the other guys I served with were so messed up after their combat tour, it wasn't funny.
I also remember one day, I was in uniform in downtown L.A., going to my former place of employment to visit my friends, and while crossing the street, having someone spit at me and yell out "Baby Killer!!"
The sad part of it all is that while I feel so blessed that I didn't have to go fight in Viet Nam, I've always felt a little guilty too. So many of my friends went and I, somehow, avoided it. So, while I served and am "Technically" a veteran, I never had to pay the price by fighting overseas in a war. I think about this from time to time, counting my blessings while fighting my guilt.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
The Election
So yesterday marked the mid-term elections of 2010. As predicted by just about everyone - Republicans, Democrats, Tea-partiers, pundits, et al., the Republicans took back the House of Representatives, but narrowly missed out on recapturing the Senate. It was a landslide of sorts.
Here in the reddest of red states we became even redder. Virtually every state office is now held by Republicans from Governor to assessor. And the lowest majority was for the Governors race where the Republican candidate won by a mere 60-40 percentage. Take that you evil liberals/progressives/democrats!!
On the National scene, numerous Tea Party candidates won, but fortunately, we were spared by not having the wackiest of the wacky winning. The Witchcraft girl from Delaware who was unaware of the provisions of the First amendment lost, as did Sharon Anngle in Nevada. Those two would've had some trouble explaining their votes to people in the Senate, let alone their constituents.
Now, of course, it appears Mr. Man Tan will become Speaker of the House replacing Nancy Pelosi, the most hated of all Democrats by the Republicans (well, maybe not, after all there is a President named Barrack HUSSEIN Obama, and a Senate Majority leader named Harry Reid).
The question on my mind today is how the Republicans will view this election. Will they see it as a mandate for Republican Policy defeated so soundly just 2 years ago? Will they see it as a repudiation of Barrack Obama? If so, I suspect they will govern badly.
My belief is that this election was more about people being fed up with gridlock. I think our fellow citizens would simply like the two parties to finally quit spending so much time fighting each other and for once, put their energies together and do something jointly FOR the citizens of their country. Helluva concept, isn't it?
That was how Obama was elected - Hope and Change. And I think he really tried. But when the opposing party takes a position of "Just say no" to each and every thing that he proposes, "Hope" quickly fades, as does the ability to change. The biggest fault I see with Obama is he lost his ability - for whatever reason - to communicate to the American people after he became President.
The Republicans, on the other hand, have mastered the art of Public Relations and marketing. How else can you explain the fact that lower middle class people have bought into supporting tax cuts for the top 1% of income earners while their own earnings have dropped over the past decade? How else can you justify that this same class of citizens generally don't support financial reform? Or, while their health benefits are being cut, or eliminated by the corporations they work for (if they still have a job) they've been convinced that the health care reform that was passed is bad? Better yet, how can they believe that tax cuts for corporations - the same ones that send jobs overseas to save payroll - is a good thing?
And, of course, then there is the rising of the Tea Party. This has come about - supposedly - because of the TARP and stimulus programs enacted by W. and Obama in an effort to save a world wide collapse of the economy. According to the top economists, these programs averted TOTAL collapse. Had they NOT done so, a depression would have occurred that would have made the first Great depression look like childs play.
The Tea Party people claim they want to take their country back. From Whom? Do they have a clue about anything except raw anger? They don't want to pay taxes. OK, I understand that, but what about the services they get from the taxes that are paid? They are sure quick to support a strong defense. Do they really want to eliminate Social Security? Medicare? Gimme a break. Think before you speak. Slogans are nice, but don't vote for people based on them.
Well, I'm starting to just rant now, so I better end. But Okay, Republicans, the ball is back in your court after a VERY short absence. Though you didn't do very good with it when you had it, now it's your turn again.
Old Fart Mike
Here in the reddest of red states we became even redder. Virtually every state office is now held by Republicans from Governor to assessor. And the lowest majority was for the Governors race where the Republican candidate won by a mere 60-40 percentage. Take that you evil liberals/progressives/democrats!!
On the National scene, numerous Tea Party candidates won, but fortunately, we were spared by not having the wackiest of the wacky winning. The Witchcraft girl from Delaware who was unaware of the provisions of the First amendment lost, as did Sharon Anngle in Nevada. Those two would've had some trouble explaining their votes to people in the Senate, let alone their constituents.
Now, of course, it appears Mr. Man Tan will become Speaker of the House replacing Nancy Pelosi, the most hated of all Democrats by the Republicans (well, maybe not, after all there is a President named Barrack HUSSEIN Obama, and a Senate Majority leader named Harry Reid).
The question on my mind today is how the Republicans will view this election. Will they see it as a mandate for Republican Policy defeated so soundly just 2 years ago? Will they see it as a repudiation of Barrack Obama? If so, I suspect they will govern badly.
My belief is that this election was more about people being fed up with gridlock. I think our fellow citizens would simply like the two parties to finally quit spending so much time fighting each other and for once, put their energies together and do something jointly FOR the citizens of their country. Helluva concept, isn't it?
That was how Obama was elected - Hope and Change. And I think he really tried. But when the opposing party takes a position of "Just say no" to each and every thing that he proposes, "Hope" quickly fades, as does the ability to change. The biggest fault I see with Obama is he lost his ability - for whatever reason - to communicate to the American people after he became President.
The Republicans, on the other hand, have mastered the art of Public Relations and marketing. How else can you explain the fact that lower middle class people have bought into supporting tax cuts for the top 1% of income earners while their own earnings have dropped over the past decade? How else can you justify that this same class of citizens generally don't support financial reform? Or, while their health benefits are being cut, or eliminated by the corporations they work for (if they still have a job) they've been convinced that the health care reform that was passed is bad? Better yet, how can they believe that tax cuts for corporations - the same ones that send jobs overseas to save payroll - is a good thing?
And, of course, then there is the rising of the Tea Party. This has come about - supposedly - because of the TARP and stimulus programs enacted by W. and Obama in an effort to save a world wide collapse of the economy. According to the top economists, these programs averted TOTAL collapse. Had they NOT done so, a depression would have occurred that would have made the first Great depression look like childs play.
The Tea Party people claim they want to take their country back. From Whom? Do they have a clue about anything except raw anger? They don't want to pay taxes. OK, I understand that, but what about the services they get from the taxes that are paid? They are sure quick to support a strong defense. Do they really want to eliminate Social Security? Medicare? Gimme a break. Think before you speak. Slogans are nice, but don't vote for people based on them.
Well, I'm starting to just rant now, so I better end. But Okay, Republicans, the ball is back in your court after a VERY short absence. Though you didn't do very good with it when you had it, now it's your turn again.
Old Fart Mike
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