Here's what I'm talking about:
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| Because in the most militaristic nation on Earth, only Posey McPoser remembers the real meaning of these days. Attention. For her. |
So not a lot to add. But I'll go ahead and add somethings. And yeah, I'm a vet, so I get to speak. As are two out of three of my sons, my Dad, my uncle, both my granddads. So quiet down. I can speak my piece, it's what we fought for, right?
Right?
Here's the sadness. Memorial Day and Veterans Day substantially take note of the same thing. Which is those who have either served, or more often, served and died in the United States Armed Forces.
Notice I do not say, "those who died for freedom", as universally, except on these days, we all justly complain about the lack of freedom in our nation.
Notice I do not say, "those who died that others might be free", as most of us over 25 know that they liberated absolutely ZERO nations, nor were they even sent there for those reasons.
Notice I do not say, "those who died fighting terrorism", because frankly, those in the military are usually responsible for others wishing to harm us. I mean, see too many buildings being flown into over in Paraguay?
But there is sadness, and that's when good men and women sign up for one thing, and die for another. We recruit teen kids - as young as 17 - to fight and die for "freedom", for "liberation", for "ending terrorism", but then we send them over to die for "profits", for "profits" and just for variety, for "profits".
And that is sad.
And if any spouse, or even girlfriend, wanted to go visit Arlington or any other cemetery to mourn the death of their loved one, I have nothing but respect and sympathy. And if they want to mourn while imagining that he died for freedom, truth, justice and the American Way, then yeah, sure, I've nothing to say against that, at least not to them.
Certainly not then and there.
Their hearts are in the right places, and that's sufficient.
But then along comes Posey McPoser here, and she's hardly alone. The one who puts some heavy duty planning into her mourning. And if that's the level she felt it, I'd be the last to criticize.
Yet it is patently obvious that such is not the reasons for her pulling out all the stops. Contemplate the above picture. The artful pose, the specially made blanket facing the right way - the right way for what? The dead soldier? The baby?
Or, oh yeah, the cameraman she brought along with her in her "moment of grief" to click the picture! Or pictures. You want to get several and then sort through which one is cutest. Er, specialist!
And she's even got her head lifted and leaning forward like she's having a special moment, talking to her dearly departed - except, which are we to believe? That the cameraman was so unbelievably rude as to interrupt such unfeigned grief for the sake of his pic?
Or that the reason she's not turned towards this stranger to ask him to leave her in peace is that - oh, yeah, that she brought him here and is specifically pretending this pose so that he can snap the right shot of it! For her to then choose the best one and post it on her feed!
Wow. Private Died For Nothing would have wanted it that way, huh? Not only did his death generate a 3 and 3/8ths rise in the 2nd quarter stock price in Halliburton back in '06, but his widow - or just former girlfriend - gets to use his grave as a big old social media net to grab some sweet, sweet "likes" and "shares" and "comments".
Ugh. I mean, really, ugh. Just ugh. Greater love hath no man, that he gave of his life that Posey might have click-bait.
Were I his parents, or any kin of his at all, I'd have some darn sharp words to say to Posey there. And Merry Christmas would not be among them.
Now listen, and listen carefully, because I wish to be clear.
Any of you want to go put flowers on a loved ones grave, that's great. You want a picnic lunch there to feel closer to him, that's great. You want to do anything you darn well please that lets you have a bit of peace in remembering him, who the heck am I to say a word?
It's all good.
But when you drag along another to take some pretty piccies and snappy snap shots, so you can blaze them over facebook, twitter, instagram and such, not for his sake, but for you to show how tight fitting your jeans are and what a superduperexpial-atrocious girlfriend you are, well, oops, you just lost me.
And quite a few others who are too reticent to speak up, but are thinking what I've been thinking.
Grieve. In. Private.
Learn some decorum. Learn some respect. Learn some dignity.
That is all.
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