A Fourth of July Thank You

Thought I'd blog twice this weekend with the extra day off and all. Plus I woke up this morning feeling patriotic and grateful for the service of those who have given us this great nation in which we are fortunate enough to live
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Thanks to every service man and woman who put on the uniform. Whether you filed papers stateside, drove a jeep on a base in a country at peace, or sweated out firefights in conditions unimaginable to most of us: thank you.

I cannot tell me how sincerely I mean that.  And if you wore a uniform know that there are 10's of millions of us who feel that way. Maybe 100's. Watching the flag burnings and witnessing the dismantling of our military by our government I wouldn't blame some of you for feeling unappreciated.  But know that what the media reports is not what the nation feels.  We owe a deep debt of gratitude to every one of you and we know it.

It's always kind of been that way though hasn't it? I remember flag burnings in the 60's. This country didn't go far enough out of its way to make you Vietnam Vets feel welcome but you were.  She may try and hide behind her actor's guild card but we remember Hanoi Jane, and not fondly. (Fonda-ly?)

I was born between March 29, 1957 and December 31, 1959 which represented that freakish blip in our Selective Service System where the requirement to register was eliminated by President Ford. Probably had something to do with the fact his own son had "forgotten" to register. I was less in tune with the news in those days and was unaware I didn't need to register and while in college on my 18th birthday I became nervous that I hadn't gotten anything in the mail about registering for the draft but thought that might seem a poor excuse in court. So I called the Colorado State University ROTC office, thinking they might know what was going on, and asked what my next move should be.
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Once we established that neither enrollment in the draft or volunteering for the campus' ROTC program were compulsory I hung up without even giving my name.

Seems cowardly and often I feel guilty about it. Maybe that is part of why I feel so grateful for those who did serve.  I love the fact I live in a nation where all men are free and opportunity exists for anyone who is willing to work for it, even if that means resisting the temptation of the syren call of victimization.  I love the fact I live in a nation where I was able to raise a family safely and with the opportunity to enjoy all the freedoms of being an American.  Friday night football games which became Saturday afternoon football games. Watching my daughter dance. Working with my wife to maintain our home and raise our family. Being able to drive from one side of this great country to the other without having to pass through government checkpoints. Having the opportunity to provide for my family and on a couple of occasions to actually build businesses that seemed important. Saturday night barbeques. Cable TV (eventually). Freedom to choose. Freedom to speak. Freedom to live.

It is a rambling and inarticulate list, I know.  And I suspect that collectively we could make a list of things we are grateful for as Americans that would be too long to read. And for that privilege, soldier-sailor-marine-ranger-whatever-they-call-you-air-force-guys, thank you. Thank you very much.