Sunshine Patriots

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.