I am not, by nature, someone who enjoys stirring the pot; I’m a Libra, and I like to/am pretty good at keeping things in balance. In my daily life and here in the blogoshpere, I tend to leave heavy, important subjects to those who know more than I do, which I fully admit is pretty much everyone. Don’t get me wrong, I love reading what others have to say on current world events, and despite what popular wisdom would say, my mind has been changed by the right argument at times. (There’s that Libra thing again.) If I were to really take a good hard look at myself, I’m probably just a big fat wuss, but there you are. I can go on for days about how much I love ham, but when it comes to anything much deeper than that, I tend to follow Mark Twain’s advice and keep my thoughts to myself. Er, wait, that was Mark Twain, right? See what I mean?
But this past weekend I was confronted with something I thought was so ugly, I need to get it off my chest. (Oh, Katie, we all know there’s nothing on your chest…rim-shot, please…)
A family who lives on my street has a son who returned Friday night from an 18 month stint in Iraq. They sent out an email to everyone on the block, saying they had learned soldiers really just want to rest when they get home, but would it be OK if they lined the street with little American flags for his homecoming?
I don’t know all the details of what exactly transpired next, but I do know that some other folks on my street took great offense at this request, to the point where the soldier’s mother was in tears.
I need to collect my thoughts for a moment and figure out what I would like to say to these people.
OK. Politics aside, I don't care what your view on the war effort is, I don't care if you're offended by the sight of an American flag and that on your own house you fly a flag of the planet Earth, here is a kid who has lived on this street his whole life as opposed to the few years you've lived here, who has been in a war zone for a year and a half and is now returning home to his parents, you know, those nice people who made that great chicken salad for the last block party, remember? So maybe what you should do, since you pride yourself on being so very open minded and kind-hearted, is bring him a pie and tell him you're glad he's home.
Because it wasn’t about you, believe it or not. It wasn’t an opportunity for you to protest anything, or to pat yourselves on the back for being better and smarter than everyone else. It was an opportunity for you to be a good human being and a nice neighbor and You. Blew. It.
This family was given a gift, a huge, incredible gift, and instead of celebrating with them you took a crap all over it. Oh, and by the way, you live here because you know damn well it's the best option, and it's the best option because kids like the one who grew up a few doors down from you keep it that way.
Thanks for letting me vent.