Notes on the American Human Condition

It has been some time since I have written anything to this blog (apparently I have added another item of guilt to my life). But to expiate what guilt I think I am experiencing, I am writing this, in the hope that the guilt will fade somehow.

Something crept into my fevered mind the other day (my, isn’t that literary!). The something that, so troubled me, is that major phases on my life have been spent in war of some kind or another.

I was born on November 24, 1941, and as you all know, that Christmas was not one of the better ones in the history of this country. As a result of that occasion, my first years where spent learning how to not soil myself, learning how to walk and getting weaned. (As if men ever get weaned).

Eventually we defeated the evil axis (George, you were not the first, so get over yourself!) and I was well on my way as a sentient human being.

Then at that point, just as I am about to discover the “sweet mysteries of life” (puberty), Korea happened. As I was discovering myself, girls and all sorts of things that one does at that age, the country was discovering Communists in the state department and under beds. Eventually we defeated the “yellow peril on the Korean peninsula and went into blissful life of the fifties.

The up side, at that point, was the beginning of “Hot Roding, Pinstripes and Flames painted on those hot rods.

After spending 4 years in the Marine Corps I got out and returned to civilian life. This was fine with me, as I was really beginning to enjoy my first years as a full fledged adult. The world discovered the pill and the “sexual revolution” (whoopee!). This period however did not turn out well. For some reason (and they still can’t figure it out) we decided that we needed to free Vietnam.

So once again we went to war but this time the results were not good and accordingly it created a political and emotional environment in this country that to this day, is poisonous for all of us.

Now that I am in my last years on this earth I find myself seeing us involved in another “foreign adventure. This time, in the Middle East and guess what The bull shit that comes out that convinces us to give up our young is the same just more blatant. As an old man I am not all that enamored of the young (did anybody say Paris Hilton?).

One thing I do know about the American young in the Middle-East is that they are not heroes, they are, in fact, like I was at that age, when I was in the Marine Corps, a kid that was as dumb as…well, hmmmm wait, I got it! Dumb as our President. They are asked to do a job that nobody wants to do, just about like our ‘illegal aliens” Unlike most “illegal aliens” however, the young in the Middle East die young doing their jobs. And, as they die the families, lovers and other folks suffer- will continue to suffer - long after those theoreticians that so blithely came up with this current Kafka wet dream, are gone. We call them heroes to make ourselves less guilty for the deaths and crippling injuries for which we are all responsible.

I am not sure if all of those”adventures” were justified or not. There have been, on occasion, thoughtful leaders during my life and they were all well intended, I give them all the benefit of the doubt, Not withstanding all the things I do not know about or am not sure of, the one thing I do know, is that with the years, comes a resignation about all I have spoken of, and it makes me tired and feeling my years.

My wife, son, art and music have been my inspiration, and allow me to feel joy spite of the exhaustion.

There, I got that out of my “craw”. By the way, does anybody really know what a “craw” is?

Dang these sins, see you next time.

Denny

For those that like trivia;” Dang These Sins” is an anagram for Dennis G. Sheats