I Hate Politicians and War.

In 2008, a young man was driving along a country road when his life was changed forever. An Improvised Explosive Device (IED) detonated next to his vehicle and he was severely injured. In 2011 he was medically retired from the Army and now receives treatment for PTSD, TBI and permanent nerve damage. He is enrolled in college classes, and is my student in Anatomy and Physiology. His goal is to become a practitioner in a medical field.

But first, he must overcome the barriers of his own brain. Barriers that were not there before he went to war. Barriers that we as, a society, put there. He has learning difficulties, attention difficulties, movement difficulties, social difficulties. He went to war for reasons I don’t know and will not ask. He goes to school to become a productive member of the society that put him in harm’s way. It takes all he has and more to get up, face the day, and work towards his goal. Can you say the same?  I can’t.
His story isn’t’ unique, or the worst story either. There are thousands of injured Vets trying to get along every day. Some make it, some don’t. Some could probably do better than they do, and some can never achieve their former goals due to massive destruction of body, mind or both.
In some circles this is called “The Butcher’s Bill”. Personally, I don’t think the end was worth the means. So I ask “how did we get into this mess”, and “how do we get out”? I know the answer to both of these questions, and my vote this November will be the way I respond. In the meantime, I am working with a couple of the “wounded warriors”, trying in some small way to make right the wrongs perpetrated on them.

I hate politicians and war. Well, some politicians anyway.

Image: http://static.ddmcdn.com/gif/ied-1.jpg

Said Miss Mona to Ed Earl: You know what really burns my ass?

Sal and Woody, only younger

Over the weekend we, Sal and I, got together with an old friend to celebrate his 84^th birthday. He is showing his age, physically more that mentally, but showing none-the-less. He follows alternative spiritual views of the world, some of which I share, and has no fear of dying. In fact, he firmly believes that the end time is just around the corner. Not necessarily this December, but soon. We talked a bit about it, but in the crowd of friends and family there was no time to explore deeply as we have done in the past.
After thinking about it for a while, I conclude the same: the end time is not creeping, it is thundering upon us. But not the end time he was envisioning. He literally thinks the physical presence of the planet, solar system and the universe will end. I do not. At least not for a very long time. Yet his end time is almost here. His, not ours. Not yet. Not being a believer in any supreme being (my friend is) or any continuance of life after death, I believe that every time someone dies, the universe ends. For them. That is what I see him facing. The extinction of awareness permanently. He believes we all go with him. If you know anyone who has died, you know that is not true. For those of us left after someone dies the universe goes on. Then, “wink”, and it is gone. Forever.

So, I started counting my remaining years, 20 or so with any luck, and then the universe ends. For me. That really burns my ass. So does a fire about 3 feet high. (1)

1. http://www.metacafe.com/watch/an-VrtP2butJhbJmm/the_best_little_whorehouse_in_texas_1982_ed_convincing_mona_to_close_the_whorehouse/

2. Image: http://cineplex.media.baselineresearch.com/images/316964/316964_large.jpg

I Am Not a Boomer!

Boomers have 5 times the rate of infection of Hepatitis C than the rest of the population (1). They die in disproportionate numbers from liver cancer and cirrhosis of the liver. Why you ask? The CDC is not sure, but proposes one reason may be the use of shared needles when this population experimented with drugs. Whatever the reason, the epidemic is real and lethal.
I am not a boomer. I preceded them by at least 5 years, never used drugs, alcohol excepted, and probably don’t have Hep C. I do get tired, though, of being assumed to be one. Boomer I mean. Ex hippie. Free love generation. Woodstock. The fact is I missed it. Too old by the time they started their “Flower Power” crap. I was ensconced in graduate school, busting my butt to get a master’s degree, fishing and walking miles on weekends in the Everglades. Flower power my ass, I thought, as I veered around snakes and scratched chiggers. “Tune in. Turn on. Drop out.” said Leary. Drop acid more like it and then self-destruct. My highs came from catching big fish in the Keys, and finding new orchids in the ‘glades, and the occasional evening drinking with friends.
My highs now come from the love of my life, the company of friends, and the occasional brew. So I repeat: I am not a boomer. I am not at risk for Hep C. I am at risk though. As we all are. They tuned in and turned on, and now we, the rest of the world, have to pay the freight. Next time one of them shows up in the ER, just give them the “peace” sign, give them a flower, and tell them to stick it where the sun don’t shine. Flower Power my ass.

1. http://www.npr.org/blogs/health/2012/08/16/158935794/cdc-recommends-hepatitis-c-testing-for-all-boomer

Image: http://aweirdthing.files.wordpress.com/2011/02/2.jpg

Time is Up.

An old friend sent me a column by Chris Hedges (1) with this note: “I thought of you when I read this this morning. Our old conversation in heartbreaking prose. Let’s find time again to spend a couple of hours together while we still have them.”
I read the column, published in the online journal “Truthdig”. And the essay, for it was really an essay, was absolutely heartbreaking. Not for the new ideas it presented, but in the cold and crisp way it summarized the state of the world. Hedges leaves no room for survival in his analysis, and I agree completely. As my dear friend said so eloquently “Our old conversation in heartbreaking prose.” Over the last 30 years, to friends, students and anyone else who would listen, I have presented each of the individual revelations that Hedges ticks off, with the predictions for the future that have now come to pass. And each time I was met by disbelief, or hope, or faith.
The future is upon us at last, and it is heartbreaking. So to my old friend I say “Yes, let’s find time to spend together before it is too late.” But in my heart I know it is already too late. Not to spend the time together, but to do anything but mourn. And it comes down to this oft repeated thought: drink the good wine, enjoy the good friends and savor what and while you can, for tomorrow you will surely die, and with you goes all of us, like dominos, inexorably to the end. Depressing? You bet. When there was still time to do something about it all, we did not. When there is no time to do anything, we still do not. We are presented with false choices, Mitt or Barack. No difference really. With one the slide is greased with money, with the other with hope. The end is the same.
Read the essay by Hedges and plan the rest of your life.
 
1. http://www.truthdig.com/report/item/life_is_sacred_20120903/
Image: http://www.truthdig.com/images/eartothegrounduploads/AP120517117806-320.jpg