Ojal
August 29, 2004
A Sense of Honor
Kev Gillett is a Vietnam Vet–from Australia. Oh, I’m sorry. You thought Johnson took us into Vietnam unilaterally.
Kev is pissed. And so is Peter:
This isn’t about George Bush or who has a Senate majority for me. It isn’t about politics. It’s about a bunch of young men who never grew old. It’s about the families of some 58,000 men who cannot answer the slander that this War Hee-row has never retracted.
I tried to answer that slander in 1971, I had no one to hear my voice. No way to reach anyone but my family. I have that way now, if only commenting on other people’s forums.
It isn’t about me. It isn’t even about politics. It’s about restoring the honor to the 58,000 names carved in black granite.
Peter left that as a comment on this post.
Kev had something else to add:
If you were the man who, in 1970, phoned the recently bereaved parents of a mate from my battalion and told them he deserved to die or the man in Adelaide who told me the dead of Long Tan deserved to die or the young women, who in 1971, ask me how many babies I had killed, or anyone who agreed with them then read the letter and look into your soul.
This is the essence of the Swift Boat campaign. It is something Kerry nor his minions in MSM or MoveOn.org or Hollywood can grasp because they’ve never felt this sense of Honor. With a capital H.
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12 Steps to a Better World
If you read Scott Ott and The Onion, but not BlameBush!, you need to add it to your daily perusal list. Liberal Larry has systematically detailed Kerry’s 12-Step program for Winning the Peace
August 28, 2004
Fund Raising
The school year has officially begun. I had the first of what will be many kids come to the door selling things to help raise money for their school.
This time last year I wrote a letter to the local paper asking for them to take the lead and print a detailed school district budget. Nobody in this city really knows what it is. My school taxes here are double what they were in Dallas. And Tyler. So it isn’t an issue of city size. And the private schools I’ve worked with and for always seemed to manage on a much smaller budget.
They weren’t interested in even publishing the letter. And the school board likes to hold meetings during the day, probably to minimize the number of people who attend.
My #2 son played in a high school band which was selected to play in the Tournament of Roses Parade one year. We spent the entire twelve months prior to the event raising money. But we didn’t go door-to-door. We did a lot of different things to earn the money. I ran the biggest, which was the concession stands at the AAA Baseball park. Seventy home games, and I had to find manpower for four stands for each game, and manage hours worked as well as the inevitible problems within the group and with the team management. That was only one of our fundraisers. Everyone put in time, including the kids.
Schools send out children to beg. That’s all it is. We are rearing a generation of beggars who think they need only go next door and all wishes will be granted. Today was simply the first. And how do you turn down a kid you know, one who is pleasant and polite, and under the gun to bring in the most money so he can get some cheap prize?
New Course
Today I played my first round on a new (for me) course. I joined the Northshore Country Club across the bay. No big deal cost-wise. As a military retiree, I have to pay $75 a month. So, I’ll play Saturday mornings there, and continue my Sunday Services with the old gang.
The course is a Bruce Devlin design, with five holes on the back nine along the bay. The back nine also has three each 3, 4 and 5-par holes, which is a little different. The front nine has a rolling links feel to it, with some water thrown in for good measure.
I had a couple of shots go out of play due to lack of course knowledge, but that’s okay.
Two of the back nine par threes require fights with the wind when it’s up. The tee shot has to start out toward the water, and you pray it comes back.
Best of all, I managed to get in with a group of early golfers. There were nine of us today, and the group sometimes grows to fifteen. They block out enough tee times to be first out every weekend. And they were a fun group to play with. Five bucks in the pot to begin, then side bets and “Wolf” within playing group. I was the Wolf on the first tee, trying to pick a partner from guys I’ve never played with. I ended up two bucks richer in the end, though.
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Who knew?
This is not a post about Kerry. So if you are a Kerry supporter and get your panties in a wad over what I have to say, I’d suggest you look at your own thought processes.
Jonathan Last Published a very telling article in The Weekly Standard regarding the failure of Mainstream Media, hereafter to be known as MSM
August 27, 2004
Children
I seem to be on a roll today talking about the youngsters. This is slightly different because it concerns a blog maintained by a gentleman (and I know, without doubt, he is one) who goes by the name Cerberus, the Guardian of Hades. The Guardian keeps living folks from entering Hades. That is an apt description of his job–he’s a cop.
He is also a Former Marine. Two ties to my boys.
My middle son, as I’ve mentioned, is an officer in a city of about 300,000 people. He loves his job. He doesn’t care much for the politics, which endanger him and all the citizens of the city. Cerberus often has the same feelings, and is on what the military calls Terminal Leave.
We often decry abuse by officers based on what we see in some video. It does happen. But more often than not, the cop is doing what he can to subdue someone who has absolutely no interest in being subdued. My son is quite adept at using submittal techniques, but has run into a few situations where brute force applied liberally is all that will suffice. I keep telling him I don’t want to see him on TV in some home video. He has plenty of scars after only two years of dealing with the dregs.
I worried less about my sons in a combat zone than I do about the cop. His attacker may be some little old lady who looks as innocent as his own grandmother, as Cerberus can attest. He has learned to not look into a suspect’s eyes, but has other keys to use in being aware. The little tricks which come from experience. Things Cerberus tried to teach his cops.
Here’s one hoisted to you. I feel a bond, and understand the decision.
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