That seems to be one of those unfortunate side effects of television--that to get any news at all you have to put up with all the sickening ratings grabbing bs whenever a big story comes about, until it gets to the point where you realize you're not actually being given any news but you watch anyway because you know deep in your heart that eventually someone will say something important, only no one ever does. So you watch transfixed by the local anchor's facial expressions trying you're hardest to come up with a single real person you know who talks or acts like that.
I don't know why I took a day off to witness the spectacle except to say I was looking for something, didn't really find it but met an elderly lady named Joyce and (possibly much to the horror of her son) had a real nice conversation waiting for the parade to begin. She lost her brother in the war. I think I read at CNN that WWII veterans (at average age 77) are dying at a rate of 1000 per day so maybe this will be there last big hurrah. And I know that unrealistically I was hoping to just bump into my dad's old war buddy, Stinky Burchette, and he was going to tell me a bunch of stories and maybe we'd hit that oldtimers bar on Dumaine near the river and have some whiskey and a beer or two and I would have smoked a cigar had he offered me one.
Anyway, I think a person can reasonably honor the front line warriors and the concscientous objectors, in fact I think it a person's duty to honor such diversity. As for the hardline vet with his "let me tell you son, it was no picnic," what can you say, "no shit pops?"
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I don't know why I took a day off to witness the spectacle except to say I was looking for something, didn't really find it but met an elderly lady named Joyce and (possibly much to the horror of her son) had a real nice conversation waiting for the parade to begin. She lost her brother in the war. I think I read at CNN that WWII veterans (at average age 77) are dying at a rate of 1000 per day so maybe this will be there last big hurrah. And I know that unrealistically I was hoping to just bump into my dad's old war buddy, Stinky Burchette, and he was going to tell me a bunch of stories and maybe we'd hit that oldtimers bar on Dumaine near the river and have some whiskey and a beer or two and I would have smoked a cigar had he offered me one.
Anyway, I think a person can reasonably honor the front line warriors and the concscientous objectors, in fact I think it a person's duty to honor such diversity. As for the hardline vet with his "let me tell you son, it was no picnic," what can you say, "no shit pops?"
- jimlouis 6-07-2000 4:40 am