RLK
07-07-2005, 14:22
This is late, but my 'puter access has been stifled, so there's that. Still wanted to share.
Being single, away from home, and sober, this Independence Day was different than most for me and maybe it’s because of this change in circumstance that I got to thinking (which as a rule is seldom a good thing for me).
For what my opinion is worth, this was probably one of the few exceptions to that rule.
I was sitting on a bench and for some unexplainable reason an event from my childhood came rushing back to me.
I remembered back to when I was a kid growing up in Massachusetts, sitting on a very similar bench playing grab-ass with my “first girlfriend” (as loosely as you can use that term at age 6 or 7) on a Navy Housing facility in Squantum.
Like most kids I didn’t have a care in the world and was for the most part, completely oblivious to my surroundings. That was until I noticed a young Sailor painting a curb. As a minor tangent, I’ll go ahead and profess that the military has always had an indescribable appeal to me, and from a very early age the only profession I intended to pursue was one at arms.
After watching him for a while, I finally mustered up my courage and got up off the bench and approached, part scared, part in awe, but determined to talk to him nonetheless.
When I reached him sitting on his haunches, he didn’t even look up from his work, he just kept on painting. I waited a few more minutes for him to realize I was there and when he didn’t acknowledge me, I finally announced myself.
“How come you’re not fighting bad guys?”
Apparently he didn’t hear my ninja stealthy 75 lbs approach because I scared the shit out of him. When he got off his ass. He lookeed up at me, laughed and said, “I am kid” and went back to painting.
I took a minute to think because, like I said, I really wasn’t too observant. Were there some bad guys I couldn’t see? Was he painting over their hole? Where were these invisible foes this Sailor was fending off with so little effort?
So I blurted, “I don’t see any bad guys” half as statement, half as question.
The Sailor again stopped what he was doing and after taking what seemed like an eternity, he looked up at me and said, “that’s because I’m doing this.”
Completely at a loss, I cut a sour face and made off for some more grab assing.
Looking back I saw the Sailor had resumed his work.
I never understood what he meant, and to be honest, I never gave the incident much thought again from that point on. In fact, I didn’t give it any. I’m “grown-up” now. Graduated from HS, made a go at a military career, moved on through heartache, and started off on the path to college with a little more life experience and I’d dare say a bit more perspective than my peers.
If I had recalled this story earlier in my life without experiencing what little that I have so far, I wouldn’t have been able to appreciate the full value of this little tale as I do now…or understand that Sailor’s reply as I've come to.
I know now that he wasn’t painting over the corpse of some invisible foe, slain without my knowledge. He was just doing his part, as small or trivial as it appeared at face value, to keep the bad men at bay. It’s because of him and countless scores of others who do the small things we don’t see (or appreciate), that those who would infringe on our hard earned liberty keep to the shadows where they belong.
I didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving earlier this year, so this 4th was a two for one deal for me. Not just in celebration of the legacy of our past, but in recognition of the promise of our future. I am able to do this not just because of those serving in harms way, but because there are others out there just as importantly doing the small things. For them and many others, I give thanks.
Happy 4th folks.
Being single, away from home, and sober, this Independence Day was different than most for me and maybe it’s because of this change in circumstance that I got to thinking (which as a rule is seldom a good thing for me).
For what my opinion is worth, this was probably one of the few exceptions to that rule.
I was sitting on a bench and for some unexplainable reason an event from my childhood came rushing back to me.
I remembered back to when I was a kid growing up in Massachusetts, sitting on a very similar bench playing grab-ass with my “first girlfriend” (as loosely as you can use that term at age 6 or 7) on a Navy Housing facility in Squantum.
Like most kids I didn’t have a care in the world and was for the most part, completely oblivious to my surroundings. That was until I noticed a young Sailor painting a curb. As a minor tangent, I’ll go ahead and profess that the military has always had an indescribable appeal to me, and from a very early age the only profession I intended to pursue was one at arms.
After watching him for a while, I finally mustered up my courage and got up off the bench and approached, part scared, part in awe, but determined to talk to him nonetheless.
When I reached him sitting on his haunches, he didn’t even look up from his work, he just kept on painting. I waited a few more minutes for him to realize I was there and when he didn’t acknowledge me, I finally announced myself.
“How come you’re not fighting bad guys?”
Apparently he didn’t hear my ninja stealthy 75 lbs approach because I scared the shit out of him. When he got off his ass. He lookeed up at me, laughed and said, “I am kid” and went back to painting.
I took a minute to think because, like I said, I really wasn’t too observant. Were there some bad guys I couldn’t see? Was he painting over their hole? Where were these invisible foes this Sailor was fending off with so little effort?
So I blurted, “I don’t see any bad guys” half as statement, half as question.
The Sailor again stopped what he was doing and after taking what seemed like an eternity, he looked up at me and said, “that’s because I’m doing this.”
Completely at a loss, I cut a sour face and made off for some more grab assing.
Looking back I saw the Sailor had resumed his work.
I never understood what he meant, and to be honest, I never gave the incident much thought again from that point on. In fact, I didn’t give it any. I’m “grown-up” now. Graduated from HS, made a go at a military career, moved on through heartache, and started off on the path to college with a little more life experience and I’d dare say a bit more perspective than my peers.
If I had recalled this story earlier in my life without experiencing what little that I have so far, I wouldn’t have been able to appreciate the full value of this little tale as I do now…or understand that Sailor’s reply as I've come to.
I know now that he wasn’t painting over the corpse of some invisible foe, slain without my knowledge. He was just doing his part, as small or trivial as it appeared at face value, to keep the bad men at bay. It’s because of him and countless scores of others who do the small things we don’t see (or appreciate), that those who would infringe on our hard earned liberty keep to the shadows where they belong.
I didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving earlier this year, so this 4th was a two for one deal for me. Not just in celebration of the legacy of our past, but in recognition of the promise of our future. I am able to do this not just because of those serving in harms way, but because there are others out there just as importantly doing the small things. For them and many others, I give thanks.
Happy 4th folks.