Late-night Musings and Ramblings

As I write, my wife and I are sitting across the dining room table from each other, each typing away on our laptops. We're geezers, so this is our idea of a hot Friday night date. Y'all go ahead and have your double Scotch. We'll pass the Pepto Bismol.

Someone earlier this week said on Facebook that they'd been carded for some activity for which they had to be at least 18. One day they'll learn to be flattered at being carded. Heck, I don't even get carded at an AARP meeting.

Our son-in-law, Chris, has been deployed to Afghanistan for the past year. His time there is up, and he is out of country, en route to the US. We couldn't be prouder. He won't be back in the USA for a few days yet - Monday or Tuesday - but at least he's out of Afghanistan.

Early on, while the Taliban was still in power and bin Laden was still in Afghanistan, someone suggested that we just bomb Afghanistan into the Stone Age. Which led to a question:

How do you bomb a place forward 500 years?

So Chris is serving. I was honored to serve in the Navy. (I'm a Vietnam-era vet who never saw the 'Nam - and I cry no sad tears over that.) My father-in-law was in the Army in WWII; one brother-in-law was in the Army in Korea, two others are Vietnam vets (not just Vietnam-era vets like me, but the real thing, one a Marine, the other in the Army.) Yet another brother-in-law on that side of the family served in the Air Force. (Air Force? How'd THAT guy get in here?) (jk!) My brother-in-law on the other side of the family - my sister's husband - was Army, Special Forces, also a Vietnam vet. That side of the family is also loaded with military and ex-military: Navy, Air Force. . .

I am in a family that serves. And, so one observation, strongly felt: every single person who serves honorably is my brother or sister. Every. Single. One. From the days of the Revolution until now. And when I read of a young soldier - sailor - airman - who is killed, a piece of my heart breaks. That was my brother or sister, and a bit of something that is mine is gone. And I get just a little bit angrier at politicians who think of soldiers as their personal toys to play with as they please. (Hear me, Mr. Bush? Rummy? Cheney? I'm sorry, Mr. Cheney - when it was your time to serve you had other priorities. And Mr. Bush was in the Texas Air National Guard - protecting Texas from all those marauding Oklahomans, I guess.)

Another observation, coming from the military and my background as a correctional officer at a maximum security adult joint. There's no such thing as an "individualist" - rugged or otherwise.

The individualist soldier gets himself/herself killed, and maybe their buddies along with. Oh, wait -  he's an individualist. He needs no buddies. Wrong!!! The military learned, long ago, that a soldier won't fight and die for flag, or freedom, or country. Those concepts are just to high-flown and abstract. But a soldier will fight to the death for his buddy. The Marines have a saying about a soldier they respect: they'll go "back-to-back" with that soldier. Need an explanation?

The individualist working in a prison also risks getting killed in the line of duty. You're no better than your backup.

In the faith community there are no individualists. The "you-and-me-Lord" spirituality has no scriptural warrant. In the Hebrew scriptures salvation was always a community affair. The New Testament notes that, in the earliest church, the members held all things in common. Paul, in writing to the Corinthians, made clear that all members, with all their variety of gifts, need each other. "There are many parts, yet one body."

Even as staunch a believer in the power of the individual as Ayn Rand forgot herself now and then. She tried to create the perfect person, the epitome of the individualist, in Howard Roark. Even setting aside for a moment that Roark was a rapist - oh, wait, that was just an individualist seeking his own pleasure - Roark depended on other people. If he hadn't found a market for his architectural style, he may still be a quarry laborer. You see, for a free market economy to work, even the strongest individual must have a free MARKET - consisting of other people. You know - the ones Rand would refer to as the "sniveling masses."

All of those who served are my brothers and sisters. We have needed each other. All of those in the community of faith are my sisters and brothers. We need each other. And I love each one dearly, and honor all as best I humanly can.

Thanks for hanging out for a few. Love your reactions, as always.