Do or Die!
Hi Folks,
I just got back to Circleville from visiting my son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter in New Hampshire where we celebrated the new year and watched the Ohio State – Notre Dame game (and ate at the most authentic Mexican restaurant in the United States !!).
Coming back we laid-over in Cleveland. For half an hour, as I waited for my flight, small groups of young people (30 or 40 in all), dressed in army camouflage, straggled by.
They were very, very young; it seemed to me – just boys and girls - smiling and talking to one another as they passed, but diffident, isolated; passing among hundreds but disconnected - alone in a crowd.
I saw their feelings; I felt them myself. It was undeniable and overwhelming. They would have denied it, but who could blame them? They tried hard to put on the brave faces of invulnerable youth, but it didn’t wash. They tried, but they remained bewildered children caught in a tragedy written by old, stupid, evil men.
I knew I would never see them again. I wondered whether their parents would. At some level they must have wondered about that too, whether or not they could admit it.
And I thought of the day before, watching the Fiesta Bowl. Young people passed through my awareness there too, but how different THEY were!
No diffidence – only rowdy anticipation. No intimations of mortality – only joyous abandon. Instead of lonely isolation – intimate communion with thousands of adoring fans. And THESE young men were Men – ages older than the children marching bravely off to die; they were happy men playing a GAME, men certain to see their families again, men with a future.
And I was struck by what a fucked up world we live in.
- Uke Man
I just got back to Circleville from visiting my son, daughter-in-law, and granddaughter in New Hampshire where we celebrated the new year and watched the Ohio State – Notre Dame game (and ate at the most authentic Mexican restaurant in the United States !!).
Coming back we laid-over in Cleveland. For half an hour, as I waited for my flight, small groups of young people (30 or 40 in all), dressed in army camouflage, straggled by.
They were very, very young; it seemed to me – just boys and girls - smiling and talking to one another as they passed, but diffident, isolated; passing among hundreds but disconnected - alone in a crowd.
I saw their feelings; I felt them myself. It was undeniable and overwhelming. They would have denied it, but who could blame them? They tried hard to put on the brave faces of invulnerable youth, but it didn’t wash. They tried, but they remained bewildered children caught in a tragedy written by old, stupid, evil men.
I knew I would never see them again. I wondered whether their parents would. At some level they must have wondered about that too, whether or not they could admit it.
And I thought of the day before, watching the Fiesta Bowl. Young people passed through my awareness there too, but how different THEY were!
No diffidence – only rowdy anticipation. No intimations of mortality – only joyous abandon. Instead of lonely isolation – intimate communion with thousands of adoring fans. And THESE young men were Men – ages older than the children marching bravely off to die; they were happy men playing a GAME, men certain to see their families again, men with a future.
And I was struck by what a fucked up world we live in.
- Uke Man
1 Comments:
Hi Tom,
I was deeply touched by your poignant description of your experiences. So true, so true. Thanks for sharing them. Sondra
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