♦Welcome to another edition of the Open Book Blog Hop!♦
Welcome back to another edition of the Open Book Blog Hop! If you’re new to the series, the authors included are always grateful for your reads and appreciate, even more so, when you share our writings with your friends. If you’re new to the series, welcome aboard. The authors will engage and impress you weekly, so be prepared to become a regular reader.
Where do I begin? I mean, I have political beliefs (that this holiday has been blown way off course of where it should be by those competing to prove their patriotism) and I have my be a kinder person beliefs that seeks to give quarter to others should they deserve it or not. Is that kindness? Or is that just a desire not to kick the hornet nest?
I dislike parades, but I don’t begrudge anyone who enjoys them. I don’t see much sense in dragging people out to walk down the road to a drum beat. I should really check out where this even came from as a human practice. My head just filled with Monty Python skits and I’m getting distracted…
Being the child of a veteran who refuses to acknowledge his veteran-ship because he didn’t serve overseas during a war, I can be super prickly about the holiday. Dad raised me to respect men in uniform at the same time that he told me to be mindful that not everyone who wears one deserves to be honored. There are bad people all over. He taught me to see them clearly and either steer clear or put them in their place, depending. I was his scraper. The one he put in the giant tire and pushed down the hill until my mom yelled at him. I love my dad, even when he gets jerky (I can be jerky, too).
My Godfather, my dad’s best friend, was a Vietnam vet. He was an amazing uncle. I am friend with his children, which we accept as cousins. They are. Blood or not. We are family. I remember when Skip scared the crap out of me with a gorilla mask on Halloween, I was like three. He and his wife were the perfect couple. I have so much respect for him. Uncle Skip had no respect for wannabes. I agreed with him heartily on this. So many sign up our young men and women to go and get them killed for their profit, and they never stick their neck out. Then there are those who play Army, talking crap about the government and other Americans, blasting women and minorities for daring to breath American air and walk on American soil. I don’t get it. And, I don’t get why they think they respect our military more than anyone else, when they are so willing to sacrifice them (either to make profits for corporations like Halliburton, or leaving them out in the cold when they get back).
My grandfather served in the Merchant Marine, lying to get in, for World War II. His brother, family on my mom’s side, all served.
I had wanted to, but I was aware, because of my dad, the risk I took in so doing and I chose to write and wrangle with politics instead. That’s its own war, with lots of pseudo and actual heroes. Perhaps that is why I am a bit reserved, as to not like parades and flag waving. I think it’s also in that I was taught to question and to examine–and that my education (I studied politics in film and the industry) showed me the real faces and ugly truths behind a lot of things. That gets questioned by a lot of people who have no place questioning me, because they’re angry or stubborn or locked in to save face (but ride around with giant flags on their trucks/cars and t-shirts because that is somehow more meaningful). I keep on fighting, so that maybe one day, we won’t send soldiers to be killed for corporate profits, and then we won’t send them at all, because we’ve grown past our violence realizing that cooperation not competition, that love and not hate is the real way and truth.
I hope this has made some sense and hasn’t been a rant! LOL
Let’s hop on over to see how the other authors tackle outlines…