Thursday, November 14, 2013

Veterans Day Letter Response

I read the letter posted on Facebook written by a father who kept his child home for Veterans Day when he should have been in school.  I supported that father 100%...until he felt the need to bring Martin Luther King into it.

If you want to keep your child home on Veterans Day, then by all means do it.  But invoking the MLK card, the letter became nothing more than a racist rant.
Ask yourself this: Why did he choose MLK day? Why not Columbus Day?  Here’s a holiday with all sorts of question marks attached to it.  I guess if we want to celebrate the “discovery” of the Bahamas, by all means, take the day off.  (Although I don’t really understand how someone can discover a populated island, but that discussion is for another day.)  In fact, why compare it to any other holiday? Wouldn’t the letter have made just as strong of a point had the writer simply omitted the part about MLK Day?  I mean, it is about the Veterans isn’t it?
I think the clincher was the comments the original poster made.  Something to the effect of “keep your race card in your pockett..It’s worn out” (yeah, 2 t’s on pocket...nice).  What the poster clearly doesn’t understand is that comment alone made it completely about race.
Let me tell you something.  Most Veterans in this country would look at this posting for what it really is: the ranting of a frustrated boy  (I say boy because you really can’t call someone a man until they have earned that title through their actions.) Most Veterans know exactly what the author was trying to incite by posting it.  This guy doesn’t care about Vets.  He cares about making a political point under the guise of supporting Veterans.
Find a war Veteran who served in combat, and have a talk with him.  Try and get him to open up about his experiences in the war.  Good luck.  Most of them keep the bad stuff inside.  Rarely will they even open up to their own family.
My dad served in the South Pacific during WWII.  Growing up, we would ask dad about his war days and what it was like.  He would never say a lot.   Occasionally we would hear stories about how he befriended a lizard in his tent that would sleep in his cot.  Funny stuff.  Nothing serious.  As I grew older, I thought my dad must not have done much during the war.
After us kids had grown, the family all got together for Memorial Day.  One of us thought it would be a good idea to go to the Veterans Home to pay our respects.  It was a nice day, and the grounds at the Illinois Veterans Home in Quincy are beautiful.  Carol and I walked to the WWII memorial.  If you are not familiar with the memorial, it has all the names of all the people from the area that served in World War II.  Going down the long list of names, sure enough, there was Master Sergeant Dean S. Johnson.  I beamed with pride. 
As we were reading all the names to see if we recognized anyone else on the list, I noticed Dad walking by himself toward the Memorial.  We gave him his space as he intently browsed the names.  Soon dad stopped.  And as I glanced over, with his hands on his hips, I saw a tear rolling down his cheek.  He was viewing the name of an old friend from Quincy who was killed in action.  It was one of the most poignant moments of my life.  My dad didn’t talk about the war because he didn’t want to talk about the war.
A few years later, I made the mistake of listening to some blowhard talk radio host complaining about a TV station that wasn’t going to show a modern military movie without commercial interruption.  Evidently it was being simulcast on several different stations at the same time.  He went on and on about how it is every Americans duty to watch these shows.  I asked my dad what his opinion was about this.  My dad was a very smart man.  He understood that this clown radio host didn’t give a rat’s ass about the Veterans, he only cared about stirring things up and selling advertising.  His two part answer was short and sweet.  He said “most Veterans he knows wouldn’t watch a show like that, because it was far too realistic.”  He added: “we fought in the war hoping that our children and grandchildren wouldn’t have to.”   As his eyes welled up, he paused, relaxed, and didn’t say another word.
I didn’t ask him anything else.

Monday, February 22, 2010

HBO: The Alzheimer's Project

Scanning through the channels recently, I came across a documentary on HBO entitled The Alzheimer's Project. Having a Mother who is suffering from this terrible disease, it caught my eye. The episode was called Grandpa, do you know who I am and was hosted by Maria Shriver. Normally, I can take-it-or leave-it regarding HBO programming, however I must admit that this was one of the best , if not the best documentary I had ever seen. Maria Shriver does a superb job of presenting her own experience with Alzheimer's in talking about her father, Sergent Shriver. The children in this video bring a whole new perspective to dealing with Alzheimer's.
Please take the time to view this video.

Monday, February 8, 2010

The Results



Well, I got the haircut. Evidently because I had matting, they had to cut me especially short. What were Dennis and Carol thinking? It's like 10 degrees outside. Fortunately, Carol wraps me in Kristen's leopard snuggie to keep me warm! Here are a couple of pictures post haircut. One is of me sitting on my chair, keeping a watch out for bunnies, squirrels, and the hot blond lab from across the ditch! Wait until she sees my new do.... she'll be putty in my paws!

Friday, February 5, 2010

Haircut Time

This morning, as I am manning my daily sentry post on Dennis and Carol’s bed, I hear the familiar jingling sound of the tags on my collar. I don’t typically wear the collar around the house, so I know when I hear that sound there’s going to be something exciting going on. Glancing out the window, I know we aren't going for a walk, because it is raining and snowy. That means one of two things: we are either going to Grandma’s, or …. (gulp) I can hardly bring myself to say it…..we are going to Jane’s Pampered Pets. Considering it is only 7:15 in the morning, I know my fate. It’s haircut time. Don’t get me wrong, I know my parents mean well, but do I really need a haircut? The yellow lab from across the ditch doesn’t think so, if you know what I’m saying, heh heh. Anyway, all I can say is they better not put a bow in my hair!

Pictures to follow….

I've Digressed...

In the past couple of months, I’ve digressed from the original intent of this blog. The one thing I did not want this to become was a political and/or religion forum for use in blowing off steam. The original intent was to be a whimsical insight to the daily life of Jack, the Goldendoodle.

I’ve owned several dogs in my life, and some of them have been very good dogs, but in my opinion, none match the intelligence and loyalty this dog has to offer. The world could learn a lot from Jack. He loves everyone! He has no biases!

So from this point forward, look for this blog to be more about Jack’s life, and less about my opinions.