I've been pretty quiet on the political theatre lately for three reasons. 1. I'm tired of the turmoil. 2. Like you I'm waiting to see what "is", is going to be. 3. I'd rather focus on the "reason for the season".
The mess in Illinois, the "bail out" confusion and the like keep pulling on me to say something political. I’ll resist until the end of this article. For now, I want to share with you a story which touched me, especially during this Christmas season.
"I put my carry-on in the luggage compartment and sat down in my assigned seat. It was going to be a long flight. 'I'm glad I have a good book to read. Perhaps I will get a short nap,' I thought.
Just before take-off, a line of soldiers came down the aisle and filled all the vacant seats, totally surrounding me. I decided to start a conversation. 'Where are you headed?' I asked the soldier seated nearest to me. 'Great Lakes Air Base. We'll be there for two weeks for special training, and then we're being deployed to Iraq'.
After flying for about an hour, an announcement was made that sack lunches were available for five dollars. It would be several hours before we reached Chicago, and I quickly decided a lunch would help pass the time.
As I reached for my wallet, I overheard soldier ask his buddy if he planned to buy lunch. 'No, that seems like a lot of money for just a sack lunch. Probably wouldn't be worth five bucks. I'll wait till we get to Chicago'. His friend agreed.
I looked around at the other soldiers. None were buying lunch. I walked to the back of the plane and handed the flight attendant a fifty dollar bill. 'Take a lunch to all those soldiers.' She grabbed my arms and squeezed tightly. Her eyes wet with tears, she thanked me. 'My son was a soldier in Iraq; it's almost like you are doing it for him.'
Picking up ten sacks, she headed up the aisle to where the soldiers were seated. She stopped at my seat and asked, 'Which do you like best - beef or chicken?' 'Chicken,' I replied, wondering why she asked.
She turned and went to the front of plane, returning a minute later with a dinner plate from first class. 'This is your thanks.'
After we finished eating, I went again to the back of the plane, heading for the rest room. A man stopped me. 'I saw what you did. I want to be part of it. Here, take this.' He handed me twenty-five dollars.
Soon after I returned to my seat, I saw the Flight Captain coming down the aisle, looking at the aisle numbers as he walked, I hoped he was not looking for me, but noticed he was looking at the numbers only on my side of the plane. When he got to my row he stopped, smiled, held out his hand, and said, 'I want to shake your hand.'
Quickly unfastening my seat belt I stood and took the Captain's hand. With a booming voice he said, 'I was a soldier and I was a military pilot. Once, someone bought me a lunch. It was an act of kindness I never forgot.' I was embarrassed when applause was heard from all of the passengers.
Later I walked to the front of the plane so I could stretch my legs. A man who was seated about six rows in front of me reached out his hand, wanting to shake mine. He left another twenty-five dollars in my palm.
When we landed in Chicago I gathered my belongings and started to deplane. Waiting just inside the airplane door was a man who stopped me, put something in my shirt pocket, turned, and walked away without saying a word. Another twenty-five dollars!
Upon entering the terminal, I saw the soldiers gathering for their trip to the base. I walked over to them and handed them seventy-five dollars. 'It will take you some time to reach the base. It will be about time for a sandwich. God Bless You.'
Ten young men left that flight feeling the love and respect of their fellow travelers. As I walked briskly to my car, I whispered a prayer for their safe return. These soldiers were giving their all for our country. I could only give them a couple of meals. It seemed so little..."
A veteran is someone who, at one point in his life wrote a blank check made payable to 'The United States of America' for an amount of 'up to and including my life.' That is Honor, and there are way too many people in this country who no longer understand it.
Now for my short political comment. I received an email from a friend who related a funny and true story that occurred in his local high school. They were discussing the qualifications to be president of the United States. It was pretty simple. The candidate must be a natural born citizen of at least 35 years of age.
However, one girl in the class immediately started in on how unfair was the requirement to be a natural born citizen. In short, her opinion was this requirement prevented many capable individuals from becoming president.
The class was just taking it in and letting her rant, but everyone's jaw hit the floor when she wrapped up her argument by stating, "What makes a natural born citizen any more qualified to lead this country than one born by C-section"?
Merry Christmas.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Remembering
About this time last year, our family experienced a significant loss. Muffin, our cherished 16 year old dog passed away. I found Muffin on the side of the road in 1991 in Gonzales, Louisiana. On that cold rainy day, this stray Poodle and Lhasa Apso mix was happy I rescued her. My wife Pam had never had an inside dog before; but her journey of learning many life lessons from this dog was about to begin.
About a year later my Mother and Aunt Polly conspired and gave me a dog. He was part Pekingese and Pomeranian. He looked just like a Chinese Temple Dog and we called him Buddha. Buddha and Muffin were soul mates. He worshiped the ground she walked on and she thought he was a pretty good guy. Kind of like me and Pam.
In fact, we often joked about the relationship they had and the relationship we had. You know how some dogs take on the personality of their owners? You know how some owners start looking like their dogs? Well, Buddha and I shared a love for our partners, and Muffin, like Pam had beautiful eyes.
Buddha and Muffin were not useful dogs in the usual sense. They didn't hunt, they could not herd but they were excellent guard dogs. Actually, they were just early warning systems; neither was big enough to be of much use against an intruder.
Then I got me a "Lion Dog", a Black Lab and Rhodesian Ridgeback mix, we named Jack Daniels (Black Jack). The Rhodesian Ridgeback has its history in African and got its name "Lion Dog" because of its ability to fight lions fearlessly. However, our Ridgeback is good for much more than "lying" around. Muffin never cared much for Jack. Budha tolerated him and taught him many things including how to play.
Buddha died in 2000, it was a terrible loss that none of us ever got over. I buried him in an air tight military box and vowed that when we moved to Missouri he would go with us. When we moved, Buddha moved.
We got to Seymour in September of last year. Muffin absolutely loved it. In her short time with us in Missouri, she explored and bossed Jack and the puppy she raised, Gibson. Gibson is an Austrailian Shepherd that was small enough to walk under Muffin when we got him. Gibson has a lot of Buddha in him; for one thing he adored Muffin. I think she recognized Buddha in Gibson because she loved him back.
We set Buddha's coffin aside when we got here, waiting for inspiration as to where to bury him. Then, in November of last year, I could not find Muffin. I called, I searched and searched. After several hours, I found her. She was lying peacefully next to Buddha's coffin. After 16 wonderful years with us, she was finally at rest with her soul mate. Today, they rest side by side overlooking our pond. They have a head stone that I carved from a Missouri rock.
Many folks will not understand why I'm sharing this with you. I have found that folks that don't like dogs don't like me. I have found that folks that don't love dogs, I generally don't care for.
I have never been betrayed by a dog. I have never been taken advantage of by a dog. I have never been lied to by a dog. I have always been forgiven for my short comings by dogs. I have had some good dogs in my life - Pouchy, Bozo, Princess, Baby, Duchess, Frisky, Rusty, Beau Diddly even one named Schmoo and her son Cargo (I'll tell you that story sometime). My dogs are like my heroes and my friends. They are trustworthy and they can be counted on. They may not be pretty, they may not smell real good, but they smell sweet to me.
A good dog is like a partner, they are different from most critters. They have names, they have personalities, they dream - and anything that dreams understands love.
Neither Pam nor I were ready for another dog after Muffin, until we found Annie. Annie is an Australian Shepherd like Gibson. Hopefully, one day Gibson will figure everything out and Annie will give us some puppies. In the meantime, I will remember.
Next week I'll get back to business, but right now I will remember. I'm kind of like Will Rogers who said, "If there ain't no dogs in heaven, I'll go to where they are." I can't imagine a God that wouldn't accept a dog. Did you ever notice that dog is God spelled backward?
About a year later my Mother and Aunt Polly conspired and gave me a dog. He was part Pekingese and Pomeranian. He looked just like a Chinese Temple Dog and we called him Buddha. Buddha and Muffin were soul mates. He worshiped the ground she walked on and she thought he was a pretty good guy. Kind of like me and Pam.
In fact, we often joked about the relationship they had and the relationship we had. You know how some dogs take on the personality of their owners? You know how some owners start looking like their dogs? Well, Buddha and I shared a love for our partners, and Muffin, like Pam had beautiful eyes.
Buddha and Muffin were not useful dogs in the usual sense. They didn't hunt, they could not herd but they were excellent guard dogs. Actually, they were just early warning systems; neither was big enough to be of much use against an intruder.
Then I got me a "Lion Dog", a Black Lab and Rhodesian Ridgeback mix, we named Jack Daniels (Black Jack). The Rhodesian Ridgeback has its history in African and got its name "Lion Dog" because of its ability to fight lions fearlessly. However, our Ridgeback is good for much more than "lying" around. Muffin never cared much for Jack. Budha tolerated him and taught him many things including how to play.
Buddha died in 2000, it was a terrible loss that none of us ever got over. I buried him in an air tight military box and vowed that when we moved to Missouri he would go with us. When we moved, Buddha moved.
We got to Seymour in September of last year. Muffin absolutely loved it. In her short time with us in Missouri, she explored and bossed Jack and the puppy she raised, Gibson. Gibson is an Austrailian Shepherd that was small enough to walk under Muffin when we got him. Gibson has a lot of Buddha in him; for one thing he adored Muffin. I think she recognized Buddha in Gibson because she loved him back.
We set Buddha's coffin aside when we got here, waiting for inspiration as to where to bury him. Then, in November of last year, I could not find Muffin. I called, I searched and searched. After several hours, I found her. She was lying peacefully next to Buddha's coffin. After 16 wonderful years with us, she was finally at rest with her soul mate. Today, they rest side by side overlooking our pond. They have a head stone that I carved from a Missouri rock.
Many folks will not understand why I'm sharing this with you. I have found that folks that don't like dogs don't like me. I have found that folks that don't love dogs, I generally don't care for.
I have never been betrayed by a dog. I have never been taken advantage of by a dog. I have never been lied to by a dog. I have always been forgiven for my short comings by dogs. I have had some good dogs in my life - Pouchy, Bozo, Princess, Baby, Duchess, Frisky, Rusty, Beau Diddly even one named Schmoo and her son Cargo (I'll tell you that story sometime). My dogs are like my heroes and my friends. They are trustworthy and they can be counted on. They may not be pretty, they may not smell real good, but they smell sweet to me.
A good dog is like a partner, they are different from most critters. They have names, they have personalities, they dream - and anything that dreams understands love.
Neither Pam nor I were ready for another dog after Muffin, until we found Annie. Annie is an Australian Shepherd like Gibson. Hopefully, one day Gibson will figure everything out and Annie will give us some puppies. In the meantime, I will remember.
Next week I'll get back to business, but right now I will remember. I'm kind of like Will Rogers who said, "If there ain't no dogs in heaven, I'll go to where they are." I can't imagine a God that wouldn't accept a dog. Did you ever notice that dog is God spelled backward?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
