Sunday, November 8, 2009

Remonstration and Protestation

I woke this morning with the intention of reproducing a piece I began Thursday about the NY Yankees winning, again, the World Series. I worked on it during my lunch period and felt relatively virtuous in the words I chose to regale the world with my fanaticism over this sports franchise. The first obstacle came when I attempted to carry it over into my conference period. I am required to work on class material during this time slot, but taking into consideration that I had accomplished everything I could in this academic area of interest, I thought to spend the time enthralling the community on the World Wide Web with my proficiency at the written word. It did not work as a student came in and wanted to know why he was failing my stupid class.

I then saved the essay to a flash drive and thought to spend my Saturday morning finishing this piece of written wit. Once more the cosmos prevented this from happening due to a computer glitch. By glitch, I mean that my home computer did not allow me to open the file and saw fit to only allow me to cruise Facebook, and write on the current novel I am sure will gain me the fame and fortune I deserve (?) or think I deserve.

My next attempt occurred about an hour ago when I hit the proverbial third strike. I received yet another e-mail commanding me to view pictures of our troops in the Middle East, and pass them on. This particular set of images were of a positive demeanor showing the kindness and affection U.S. Service people have towards the children in the land where they are fighting. I thought to simply view them and go on about my day. Until, that is, the last image. This picture portrayed a soldier hugging an injured or dead child to his chest. This hero stood in obvious emotional distress. The last thing I wished to do this glorious morning was weep for any reason, let alone the devastation of the war plaguing my serenity on a beautiful morning.

I did not get irate or disconcerted. I did not curse the screen or the person that sent it to me. I just cried. After the tears subsided to a manageable level, I decided to take action. This piece is certainly the culmination of that action, but not all. The overwhelming message in the images glaringly spoke of the men and women fighting for our rights and privileges as citizens of the United States. I am not exactly sure how their actions are connected to my rights given the nonsense that is, in general, all wars. I have not had to defend my apartment from invaders…ever. I have not personally experienced violence directed at me by a foreign adversary from the Middle East. The sum of my knowledge comes from the handshakes I receive when I thank a soldier for his service to our country. I have a colleague at work that fought over there. He never speaks of his experience and often plays down his role as minor when engaged in conversation. He sometimes wears one of his fatigue jackets to work, and the patches on that jacket speak to a much deeper involvement then this gentleman will admit to. He is most definitely a hero, and I am blessed to know him.

The quietness of my colleague and his peers who allow me the honor of shaking their hands tells me that my rights are well protected…even the right to protest this war. There are a group of men in my home town who I have written of in a prior post. They stand on the courthouse square and wave banners protesting for peace and requesting travelers to honk to bring home the troops. I honk, and have stood for a time on that corner. Nobody has ever complained about my feeling about this war. Nobody has tried to stop those brave men out on the corner from exercising their right to free speech. And nobody will as long as I ingest oxygen without a loud reply to any such nonsense.

I took action this morning by writing this piece. However, before I did set to the composition you read here, I e-mailed the President to ask for the return of the troops. I sent the link to this site, not to promote my own hopeful agenda, but so that if by some miracle he gets to read this, he will know that our troops are in fact protecting my rights and privileges as a United States citizen. God Bless America!

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