Sometimes I feel like such a dope.
Had I known I could demonstrate my fidelity and loyalty to, and my deep and abiding love of, my country by just slapping a sticker on my car or a pin on my lapel … I could have skipped FIFTEEN years of uniformed service (between active duty and the reserves).
Where the hell was Fox News when I needed them? A young, impressionable kid thinking patriotism was about actually serving my country …. at 17 years old, I thought that meant enlisting. (and I would have, too, but the ROTC scholarship came through and I somehow made it through OCS and started out as a second looey instead of a prive. No one was more surprised than my dad.)(But I digress.)
Fifteen years. Desert Storm. Mogadishu. Damn, I was stupid. I could have just gotten a pin and wore it around.
True story: One month after 9/11 the local Chamber of Commerce held their Fall expo. We had a booth (not that we got any bidness from it – this was when we were still exploring all the marketing angles.)(sorry, more digression). I was there all fancied up in suit and tie, meeting and greeting. Just after the local nursrey came by with a free potted geranium, some guy came up with a handfull of pins and asked why I wasn’t wearing one – like I was some kind of freak. My first impulse, I must admit, was to punch him. Instead I just asked whether a dozen years of uniformed service was sufficient … or did I really need the pin?
Most days now I feel like punching someone – starting with Bill O’Reilly and working on down the list to George Stepincrapolous.
Fifteen years. But it’s the pin that matters.
Posted by onezero 
