Common Man Gazette

Why I Like the "Comfy Quarter"

In Arkansas, we really only have three seasons in our weather pattern. Summer and winter have more than their fair share of calendar space. The seasons are never aligned with the calendar anyway. Therefore the “third” season is actually a combination of half seasons normally known as “Spring” and “Fall/Autumn”. Both of them are so short and seemingly non-existent that it is only fair to clump them together.

That’s why I have decided to look at the calendar in quarters instead of seasons. Financial budgets are arranged on three month sections of the year, beginning with the first quarter of January through March, and so forth. Each has its own distinct type of weather, events and moods.

The first quarter, January through March, is the “Hibernation Quarter”. During this period the days are short of sunshine and cold. Most of our activities are confined to the indoors. It’s the period of bleakness. It’s when we get our annual ice storm or two. Snow is rare and when it does come, it shuts down the town. It’s when we stock up on milk, eggs and bread…just in case we need to make french toast. It’s a time of electric blankets, fireplaces and Snuggies. Football is over and baseball hasn’t started. Basketball is ok but really gets going in March. We are simply waiting.

The second quarter, April through June, is the “Wake up and Shake up Quarter”. We are like the munchkins on the Wizard of Oz coming out from hiding. We are the great grizzly bear emerging from his den with one thought on his mind…”I wonder what’s in the fridge”? We smile more. We make plans about what we want to do with the yard, where to go on vacation. We pack away the sweaters and coats. We get out. We walk. We get the mower going and we actually enjoying working in the yard. The sun warms our souls and we feel good about the year ahead.

The third quarter, July through September, is the “Sweat and Go Quarter”. We go on the vacations we planned during the previous quarter. We forget the lesson we learned the previous year to never again go to south Texas in August. Working in the yard is more of a chore in this quarter than it was a joy in the previous one. But it is also the time of long days, good friends and barbeque. Ice cold sweet tea. Watermelon. Homemade ice cream. Swimming. Camping. It’s the time when we are away from home the most.

The fourth quarter (my personal favorite), October through December, is what I call the “Comfy Quarter”. It’s the period when life starts to slow down a bit. High school football winds down just about the time the holiday season kicks in. This is why I like it the most.

This quarter is tied to most of my favorite memories from childhood to present time. Trick or treating on Gibson Street was a special time as a child. There were more than thirty kids on our short street and every house had treats for us. Two of the homes, Mrs. Kuhn and Mrs. Rogers, were two important stops on our quest for candy. Their children had long since gone and we all became their most welcomed visitors of the night. They both saved special treats just for the kids on the street. In fact, we were invited into their homes, something some parents would cringe at today. These ladies made the night fun. And I think they enjoyed it as much as we did.

This quarter is a time of burning leaves. I watched my father burn piles of them in the ditch next to our back yard. Burning them at night is an especially fond memory of mine. I would sit along the ditch and watch as my father moved more leaves into the fire, rake in hand, silhouetted by flame and smoke against the black night. Before too long, I was trusted with the fire and the rake. And I was proud.

To this day, the smell of burning leaves takes me back to that moment and I smile.

This quarter is a time of family holidays. Thanksgiving and Christmas are times of celebrations, of food and of being together with family. We may only see each other during this quarter every year so pictures are plenty and stories are abundant.

This quarter fills us with warmth, comfort and love so that we will be sustained during the Hibernation Quarter to come.

So, enjoy this Comfy Quarter we are in now. Fill up. Prepare. It’s going to be a cold winter.

 

You Don't Know What You've Got Til It's Gone

Way back in “the day”, Joni Mitchell recorded a song she wrote after visiting Hawaii. It was 1970. Upon waking in her hotel she opened the curtains and saw the green mountains in the distance. As she glanced downward, she saw a parking lot that stretched as far as the eye could see. Disheartened, she wrote “Big Yellow Taxi” and the first line of the song set the tone for what followed…”they paved paradise and put up a parking lot.”

I’ve tried to imagine the scene. Bulldozers moving along, pushing down trees and leveling the ground between flags lined up in rows outlining the lot. The smell of dirt. The roar of the diesel engines and the disappearance of shade as the trees hit the ground. Huge mounds of debris would be burned and cleared, hauled off to a landfill or buried on site. Before long, concrete gutters, towering light poles and asphalt expanses with white painted stripes would occupy the once green area. All in all, it is the vision of progress. A testament to the concept of growth. “We know we are growing. We need more parking spaces!”

But the song is a lament to, in my opinion, the hazards of tunnel vision. Sometimes we become so accustomed to our surroundings that we fail to see the big picture or, even worse, the ramifications of good ideas of the present on the well-being of the future.

Towns and communities all over this country are facing the same dilemma as so succinctly crafted by Ms. Mitchell in her song. How is future need balanced against current and past treasures? How do we decide what stays and what goes?

I can’t speak for everyone but I do know for myself. Therein lies the rub. We all have different ideas about what to keep and what to pave. But what is more important than anything else is that if we feel strongly about things one way or the other, we must get involved. We cannot wait for someone else to do it for us. We must speak our mind. We must take action.

So, today, here are my “Do Not Pave” places in Benton. I am not as familiar with other towns in our county and their historical places but the need to get involved in those towns is just as necessary as it is here.

At this moment in time, there are four places I want to help preserve. Three are possible, one maybe not.

The first is the Gann Museum. A friend told me that it is in need of serious repairs from leakage and water damage.

According to the city of Benton website, “The Gann Building was donated to the city of Benton by Dr. Dewell Gann who asked that it be used as a library. The museum houses a collection of antiques and memorabilia from the area. This is the only known building made of bauxite; dug from a nearby farm, hand-sawed into blocks, and allowed to harden. It originally was a medical office built in 1893 by patients who could not afford to pay the doctor. Contains furniture and artifacts reflecting local pioneer, Native American, and church history.”

Can you imagine the sight of people with hand tools cutting pieces of bauxite to build a house? No power tools? No cranes to lift the finished blocks into place? All of them doing this to repay a doctor for his services. It wouldn’t happen these days. Too many insurance issues and forms to deal with.

The next important place for me is the Royal Theatre. I was there recently and was amazed by the renovation going on inside. If you haven’t been there, go! The work is still in progress but without a doubt a jewel is among us. There are many dedicated and determined people who give of their time to pull off what most would think impossible. But don’t tell them that.

 

Next up, the Palace. Formerly housing the local library, this building is actually top on my list of most urgent need. While both the Gann Museum and the Royal need assistance as well, they are both occupied. The Palace, from what I can tell, is not. I drive by it every day on my way home. It is not directly in my path but I make sure to go by just the same. I try to imagine how it looked in its glory days, stripped of the facades of brick and concrete added over the years.

And I want to find out. I am told the roof is in dire shape. This is not acceptable.

My fourth place is CW Lewis Stadium. I’m not here to place an argument on either side of the debate. Whether or not football is played there or across town is not my issue nor is one that I may influence at this moment. Regardless of outcome, I want CW Lewis to stay. But, that matter is out of my hands.

My friend went on to say that we all talk about how much we like or love a particular place in town but action is needed. We don’t want to cry about what once was after the bulldozers have done their deed.

So, I am here today to say it is time for all of us out in the community to “put up or shut up”. Words are easy and cheap. Action takes effort and, sometimes, cash.

Let it be known that I will do whatever is in my power to help not only these landmarks but any other out there that I can. I will do this with my time, my abilities and with any other resource I may.

And I challenge you to go along with me. If you are with a group or committee or board or any other band of people charged with the task of taking care of our town history, let your need be known. Send me an email at davisb@flash.net. Let’s get things done.

As a word of caution, remember another line from “Big Yellow Taxi”.

“Don't it always seem to go

That you don't know what you've got

‘Til it's gone”

Benton...The Time Has Come!

If you are like me, and I bet you are, you have watched a town start to unravel at the edges. The extremes at each end have been going at it, often with words of anger and disrespect for the other and seemingly the town we all call home.  Many of us have gone back and forth from one side of the arguments in town from city council issues to school board actions. I know I have.

But no more.

From this point forward, I commit to make the change I want to see in the community I love. Here is what I am going to do...and I ask the good folks from every area, every point of view, every person who will join me...to make things happen.

I will find the positive in this town that I know is there and I will not let it go without notice by others.

I will not rely on any elected official, group, council or government to shape my opinion of the community and those who live within it.  It is my responsibility, not theirs.

I will not complain about those who are in charge of the area's future if I am not willing to help.  I forfeit my right to complain if I do not have a solution to an issue and am not willing to implement it.

I will respect those who hold elected office whether it be in government or not. They have made a commitment that I have not and their service deserves my respect. However, I reserve the right to disagree and speak my mind in a civil manner without resorting to finger-pointing, name calling or arguing.

I will be the change I want to see.  If it is to be, it is up to me.

I will do my best to defend this community against those who choose to tear it down physically, economically, mentally or spiritually and I will do so without resorting to anger, intimidation or threats.

I will do my best to defend and help my neighbors without the requirement of being asked to do so.

I will make sure that those who pick our community as their home are welcomed as life-long residents from Day 1.  We need all of us to get things done.

But most of all, I challenge those who have been silent to join me and be silent no more.

Benton...the time has come!

This is not a political movement. It is not a liberal movement or a conservative movement. 

It is a movement about community.  It is about people.  It is about being Benton Proud and not being afraid to show it.

Get ready! It's coming!  Are you ready?  Are you in?

Are you positive?  Stay tuned.  More to come.

The Five Signs of Getting Old

We all have at least one thing in common. From the moment we are born, we join that march to elderly status and inevitable senility that can’t be avoided or prevented. Despite the proliferation of anti-aging products and procedures, our bodies wear out. It’s what they are made to do. Think of our bodies as a car. No matter how often we paint it, wax it or wash it, we are still driving a 1958 Chevy and we can’t trade it in.

So I say, enjoy! Revel in your age. Gain the understanding that comes with the wisdom of life experiences. But also keep a close eye out for the five signs that you are getting old.

#1:  You get somewhere but can’t remember why you were going there when you get there. For example, it’s Sunday afternoon. You are enjoying an NFL game and your favorite team is kicking the tail-end of their rival. During the commercial break, you get up and walk into the kitchen. When you get there, you don’t know why you are there so you stand and think. “Obviously I am here for some sort of food related matter. What was it?”  You think and think but nothing rings a bell. In the meantime, you hear the game come back on and head back to your comfy recliner. Just as you are about to sit down, “Chips!” pops into your brain like a bolt of lightning beyond your awareness. It’s your brains way of saying “Don’t sit down! Get back in the kitchen and get me some food!”

#2:  You get somewhere you knew you were going to but it doesn’t look like the place you thought you were going to.  Ok, this may not be happening to you. This one may just be personal to me. Let me explain. A couple of weeks ago after my book signing at the library, my wife Laura and I decided to celebrate the event by going to Sakura, a local japanese restaurant, to eat. Just after we placed our order, I excused myself from the table and proceeded to the rest room. Along the way I noticed others who had come to eat. I especially noticed the fish tank next to the sushi bar and thought to myself, “That’s interesting!” I walked into the rest room and searched for that friendly porcelain fixture on the wall…but there wasn’t one. I had not been in the rest room at Sakura in a very long time so I figured they must have remodeled and now offered privacy of enclosed stalls to their male customers. About halfway through the “process” in which I was engaged, it hit me. I was not in the men’s restroom. I had wandered into the women’s instead. Evidently I had been distracted by the fish tank. In a moment of panic, I corrected my attire so that I could exit the room without an embarrassing display. I made it back to the table, told Laura what happened and all she could do is look at me in that “D.A.” manner and shake her head.

#3: You don’t even try to stay up until midnight on New Year’s Eve. You will know this milestone is quickly approaching when you notice that you look at your watch and think “hurry up” in the years prior to this annual celebration. The ground is being laid for the next year when folks invite you over for a party and you respond “Thanks but my wife just doesn’t stay up that late anymore. She is usually asleep by 9 pm these days.”

#4: You call your children by their sibling’s name. This sign usually occurs as you approach retirement age so many of you have a long time before you get there.  For those of you already there, you know what I mean. A suggestion would be that everyone wear a name tag at family get-togethers. Those of you who have one child may not necessarily be spared exposure to this sign. A variant strain of this condition is to call the child the name of their same sex parent or grandparent.

#5: Finally, parents with school-age children call you “Sir” or “Ma’am”. This particular omen usually occurs in tandem with the first time you are called by either moniker. The problem is that the effect is time-released. It doesn’t hit you until later. At first you think to yourself “What a nice man/woman.” But just as you start to drift off to sleep at 9 pm on New Year’s Eve, your eyes fly open and you see all the signs in front of you. You now think you are old.

But don’t despair. These signs are only superficial. They play with your mind to make you “think” you are old.

In my opinion, “Old” is a state of mind and is much different than “Age”. You can’t change your age but you can change how old you are. I am not old…and never will be.

Look to the Cereal Bowl for Answers

The times are turbulent indeed! And I ask one simple question…Where is the good news out there? If you rely on others, such as the media/television/radio/internet, to tell it to you then your search will be limited and undoubtedly fruitless.

I suggest you look for it all by yourself. Why? Because we are bombarded everyday with snippets from this person or that person that are used to point out that this person is against that person or that group or that cause and the same snippet can be used to prove otherwise. “Spin is in, baby!”

There is no need to point out examples. We all know them when we see them.

But what does not appear to be evident, from those who impart the spin on the curve balls thrown at us each day, is that we are smart enough to know the difference between shinola and a hole in the ground. We do know the difference and the “spinners” don’t seem to get the fact that the shinola sticks to them when they sling it.

There are those who believe the spin. There are those who must place people into categories of right or wrong, conservative or liberal, republican or democrat, progressive or “aginner”. This is very easy to do and creates the freedom to ignore the logical/common sense required to look deeper into the message.

But take heart, my fellow Americans. I say, look to the cereal bowl for answers.

Bear with me for a moment. What seems itself to be a nonsensical approach to world analysis is actually a very profound means for gaining understanding of what is going on around us.

Try this at home. You do not have to be a professional.

Take a cereal bowl from your kitchen cabinet. The bowl must be one in which the upper rim curls outward. Place the bowl upside down on your kitchen table. Next, sit or squat down to such a level that you are looking directly at the side of the bowl, as if seeing a cross-section of it.

What you should see in front of you is the near classic shape of a Bell Curve. There is your answer, laid out in front of you in ceramic, plastic, metal or Corning. The shape explains everything.

A Bell Curve is used to determine the levels of distribution from a central point. The farther out from the central point the lower the level of distribution of the variable. A good example comes from the political world. Consider the labels of “Conservative” and “Liberal”. The center point of our bell curve is halfway between one edge of the political ideology cereal bowl and the other as we look at it from the side. As we move away from the middle to the far edges of the bowl we see that the curve of the bowl begins to slope downward toward the table. Eventually the slope lowers to the point of touching the table. Think of the area under our political bowl as stacks of people representing the number who lean toward the “Liberal” side and toward the “Conservative” side. The farther out from the middle the stacks go, the closer to the table they get. This means there are fewer people at the fringe. Everyday Americans are at the middle or barely leaning one way or the other.

And this is what the Spin Doctors just don’t get! Use the old 80/20 Rule with the bowl as well. This means that 20% of Americans are on the fringe (10% on the Liberal side and 10% on the conservative side) while the vast majority of 80% are in the middle! But who do we hear from all the time – the fringers!

Think of it this way. If you are driving in rush hour traffic and you are surrounded by cars, which vehicle gets your attention? The bland one? The quiet one? The ordinary one?

No! Out of the hundreds of cars on the road, you hear the one with brakes that squeak or the one with the loud “thump” of their stereo. Fringers.

So, I challenge each of you to look beyond what you see. To hear that which you have ignored. To speak to those who are quiet. To tune out those use the snippets to distract and muddy the waters.

I challenge you to look to the cereal bowl. To understand that those of us who aren’t the fringers are the majority. We need to make our presence known and quiet the noise. We need to re-take the reins to control the fringes instead of them controlling us.

Look to the cereal bowl for answers.

A Goat, A Cabbie & a Cemetery

Lessons about life seem to just happen to me when I least expect it. The month of August has provided many…and from the least likely of sources. Oddly enough, the catalyst for this month long journey of introspection and odd circumstances began with reading a flyer at work that I received in the mail.

Tucked into a small area of this brochure was a paragraph in italics that caught my attention. It was a little blurb about Zen Buddhism and the concept of the Beginner’s Mind, a reference to being open and eager without preconceived notions. It went on to advance the notion that a beginner’s mind is open to all possibilities while the expert mind limits the potential solutions and is closed. I thought to myself “I can do that.”

Enter the goat.

That evening on the way home, I noticed a goat in a fenced pen. There were huge oak trees around, providing shade. On the ground near the front of the pen was the remaining trunk of a fallen tree. It was old and the inside was hollow. Standing proud on this tree trunk was an old goat, at least it looked old to me but what do I know. That’s really not the point. The point here is that he stood tall on the tree trunk, his head high enough to see over the fence. To the expert mind, the goat was merely looking around, engaged in an activity of no meaning or consequence. However, equipped with a new “beginner’s mind”, I now saw something different. The goat was actually surveying the world around him. Taking stock, so to speak. He was the only goat in the pen, scouring his surroundings above the fence line to see clearly. I thought to myself, “what a wise old goat.” The world could learn a lot from this solitary farm animal.

The lesson of the goat stayed with me as my family traveled on vacation to Washington, DC. The next chance for a beginner’s mind came on a hot afternoon sitting outside the front gates of Six Flags America in Maryland. Being novice users of the public transportation system, we decided not to ride the Metro train back to Washington and instead found a seat along the side of the route inside one of those plastic bubble type waiting places for the next cab that might happen to wander out to our seemingly isolated location.

Before too long, a yellow Ford Crown Victoria taxi showed up out of nowhere. Our predicament was simple. Five people, one cab, where will we sit? The decision was made that four would sit in the back and I would sit in front with the driver. Actually, I wanted to sit up front. I stood on the curb and from that position the cab roof line was just about at my belt line.

I opened the front door. The cab driver leaned over to move some of the papers and a clipboard that had been positioned up front with him. Immediately I saw he was a gracious man. I bent down to look inside. He smiled up at me from underneath his Washington Nationals baseball cap. I noticed his eyes widened behind his wire rim glasses.

“You are being much larger than average American” he said as I eased inside.

“I get that a lot” was my response. Shortly after leaving Six Flags in the cab, I struck up a conversation with the cabbie. I noticed his license posted on the front dashboard. His name was Seyed. His picture looked like a business professional in a suit and tie.

“Your name is Seyed?” I asked. “Yes it is” he replied. He was a man of slight build but with a smile wider than the highway we were on. Through the course of the conversation, I learned that he was from Pakistan, an engineer by trade in his homeland. He came to the United States sixteen years ago and his family followed four years later. He spoke proudly of his children. Both had been educated in America. One following in his footsteps as an engineer. His youngest, a daughter, was completing her PhD. as a pharmacist. He spoke of how grateful he was to be in this country, even if the only thing he could do was to drive a cab. He was not ashamed. He was proud of a country that gave him the opportunity to be free, to educate his children, to raise his family in freedom; far from the corruption he claims is top to bottom in his homeland of Pakistan. As we approached our destination, I shook his hand. “I enjoyed meeting you, Seyed”. He responded with that wide smile “I am happy to be chatting with you this day as well.” I walked away knowing my beginner’s mind had brought about the conversation.

A tour of Arlington Cemetery was the next experience of clarity on the trip. We visited the Kennedy gravesite with the eternal flame. We watched the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknowns. The impact of the surroundings was powerful to say the least. But the moment that rattled me to the core was when the driver of the tour bus we were on stopped the vehicle and directed us to look outside on your left. Before us were the rolling hills of the cemetery and everywhere we could see, lined in perfect rows in all directions, were the headstones of fallen soldiers from our armed forces. At this moment, the tour guide told us that “it is said this view is the very description of freedom as headstones stretch out along the hills, standing at attention in salute to those who pass by. They gave us our freedom by paying the price for us with their lives.” We sat in silence, taking in what we had been told. I felt small, even though I was “being much larger than the average American.”

Oddly enough, I thought of that goat on the tree trunk, looking out at all around him. I was the goat at that moment, looking out at what was before me with my head now above the fence, seeing exactly what the tour guide described. My freedom was in front of me, standing before me in rows of white marble.

I decided the old goat was wise and every day since I have looked for him in that pen, hoping for a reminder of all that is important in life from the lessons taught to me by a goat, a cabbie and a cemetery.

Politicians, the Media, and the Allegory of the Cave - Revisted

I put together this post almost a year ago and it is still relevant today. It doesn't seem as if much has changed at all to me.  What do you think?

It is hard for me to comprehend why there are so many people who are simply following along with the "party line", "conventional wisdom" or the "consensus" without discovering the facts on their own. Politicians have proven that words can be twisted in and out of context to support a particular viewpoint or ideological purpose. As a whole our national media have become avenues for entertainment rather than the purveyors of journalistic integrity they were intended to be. Ratings, circulation and website hits are the driving factors for determining which story is lead and which is buried. It is a sad state of affairs. So, as a distraction, I picked up a book...and what I read opened my eyes. I read about Plato and his "Allegory of the Cave". He used this allegory as a way to explain the means necessary for philosophy to gain acceptance in his time. He told of a cave and the prisoners kept within.  Deep inside the cave, prisoners were chained in such a manner that all they could see was the back wall.  They could not see the opening of the cave nor the fire that blazed behind them. Their perceptions of reality were shaped by the shadows on the wall before them as life passed by the fire.  The prisoners shaped their ideas of the world beyond the cave by interpreting the images they saw.  This was their existence day in and day out. They did not know otherwise and offered no complaint. But what would happen if one of the prisoners was dragged out into the light of day and shown the truth? Would the prisoner, now aware of the deception and falsehood of his previous existence, fear the truth of reality and scramble back into the cave, begging to be imprisoned? Would the prisoner, now aware of reality's truth, embrace the sunlight? Would the prisoner return to the cave, extolling the freedom beyond the false images on the wall, and lead them into the light of truth? Would they follow or would they stay, complacent in their small world? Bringing Plato's allegory into present day, we are making decisions regarding our world based on what politicians and the media are telling us and by the images they use to manipulate their points-of-view. To be fair, there are some in the political arena and in the media who are trying to lead us to truth. We must not wait to be freed from our prison in the cave. We must take the initiative to seek knowledge on our own. We must embrace the light of truth and lead others, not by controlling the message but by pulling back the curtain.

Poll: Pay Czar - Was the Compensation Cut Justified?

The Obama Administration Pay Czar recently determined that top executives at Wall Street firms that accepted TARP money would have their compensation reduced by 90%.  Do you feel this was a necessary action taken by a government official acting within the parameters of his duty or an unjustifiable decision made by an individual with too much independent authority? Cast your vote below.  Leave a comment as well if you wish. [polldaddy poll=2163671]

Cooler Heads, Health Care Reform & Town Halls

I was once told that if I was angry with a coworker, it meant the issue between us was personal and not work-related.  I argued the point with him and then realized, he was right. It is this point in relation to the health care reform debate currently taking place across our country that is not being recognized.  The news reports are full of accounts about "angry mobs" who are shouting at their representatives.  What the pundits, analysts and reporters don't understand is that the anger is not simply about reform, it's personal...and it isn't exclusive to one party or one special interest group. The anger is about a congress that refuses to remember or is simply blind to the fact that they are sent to Washington to represent us.  Their failure to follow through on promises made during the campaign, their lack of response to their constituents, and their seeming indifference toward their duty is the spark which has ignited the anger.  The change being pushed...and pushed hard...through Congress at this time without listening to the will of the people in this country has reached the tipping point so many of those who live in the beltway are lining up to warn us all about.  The problem is, they don't get it either. But I promise you, those of us out here between the coasts do get it.  We are not ill-informed nor are we being led around and prodded by anyone.  We are free thinkers who don't like what we see and are speaking up about. So, to have cooler heads prevail in this most important debate, both sides need to realize it's the issue that is important, not the personalities.

America ' s Next Greatest Generation

We have all heard the saying “When the going gets tough, the tough get going”.  History proves this statement to be true, especially here in the good old USA. Several years back, Tom Brokaw wrote a book titled “The Greatest Generation”.  He tells the history of a generation faced with the Great Depression and, eventually, World War II.  Americans who came through this time were instrumental in building industry and spurring a surge in prosperity unseen before in the world. They faced hardships and challenges that no other generation since has been required to face.  If you speak to anyone from this time period of our nation’s history, you will learn of practicality, frugality, and a common sense perspective that keeps them grounded in the important things in life. They fought in a war “over there”.  They parachuted behind enemy lines. They fought in the trenches through all seasons and weather.  They stormed beaches and many never came back.  Great was their sacrifice.  Unimaginable was their family’s. Even in the depths of despair and economic failure, they came forward, eager to serve. While the soldiers were fighting, the folks back home geared up the machinery to keep the soldiers as prepared and protected as possible. War was known in generations prior.  War is known in generations since.  While all wars have not been “popular”, there is one thing common among them all – our government deemed it necessary.  Men and women of this country gave without reservation.  Some were drafted but, nonetheless, they went.  They faced whatever perils were in front of them.  Some faced perils they could not overcome.  In World War II alone, 418,500 Americans from towns and families all over this country did not come back alive. Consider the fact that our country was founded on a revolution.  Freedom is not free and to maintain it exacts a heavy toll.  Nonetheless, the price is paid.  Regardless of your political, religious or ethical point of view, knowing that regular people who are mostly strangers to us with the courage to face those who wish to do our country harm is an undisputable fact of humility and gratitude. But when you really think about it, these people are not strangers at all.  They are our neighbors, our friends and our relatives.  Even in the unlikely event that we do not know of anyone personally effected by war, all we need to do is look back at our own family heritage.  More often than not there will be an ancestor who answered the call.  We will find our heritage in that person who, in the words of Abraham Lincoln, “gave the last full measure of devotion” in defense of this country and freedom. Since 2001 our country has been engaged in war and conflict around the world.  A new generation of young families and their children are sacrificing so that those of us who are not can still say we live in the greatest country on earth. There are children in school now that have not known a time without war.  They may not know the impact of September 11, 2001.  All they know is now. And now, a new generation of Americans is answering the call.  They are leaving their families for foreign countries to fight an enemy more difficult to locate and identify than previous ones.  The enemy does not wear uniforms.  They do not march in columns.  They hide in dark corners and in the midst of the defenseless.  What a daunting task it must be to fight this type of foe. But still, they go.  And we stay. We stay at home in a country that treasures freedom of speech and defends those who seek its protection, regardless of the message.  We stay in a country that welcomes diversity while others seek to eradicate differences.  We stay in a country that values the sanctity of the individual and affords the course of justice even to those whose actions have taken the spark of life from another. We can stay….because they go.  We, for and against alike, must never lose the truth of this fact. Without a doubt, I feel this group of young people defending our country is our next, greatest generation.  They honor those who served before them in every defense of freedom back to our country’s birth.  The choice of war is never a clear cut option.  Both sides usually have compelling rationale.  But always bear this in mind, we live in a country where this particular argument can take place, and we have our armed forces to thank for that. So, as we approach Memorial Day, remember the real reason for the holiday.  Say a word of thanks to any soldier you see.  Call a family with a loved one “over there” to let them know you care.  Let our newest Greatest Generation know we recognize them now, not years later.  Remember, we are all tied through history to each other.