My Dear

Every now and then an email shows up in my spam list with the message title, "My Dear." To me the title is strange. I wonder to whom I can be dear to other than my immediate family. I look at that email title and wonder, "Should I open it to find out to whom I am so dear a message over electronic media must be sent."

No, I don't open it. I am paranoid about letters from strange people. Sometimes a letter comes in the mail addressed to me by hand. Since it is addressed by someone taking the time to write on the envelope it has to be important. I open it and find it is a diatribe against abortion or a plea for money to halt the criminal behavior of currently elected officials, or something like that.

Also, often I get telephone calls from the police protection league or some such group. I have never heard of the police protection group or the sheriffs' association or the state highway patrolmans' family defense league. So, with some guilt I might add, I say, "I can't help you today." What if there really is such an organization and my help is desperately needed to save the life of some poor police officer and his family? "What if," I ponder, but no its a scam there is no such group; besides, if they want me help let the local police ask.

Anyway, "My Dear" sits in the list of emails unopened. I ask the same "what if" questions. What if that poor Nigeria mother is truly desperate and in need of assistance, or what if there really is $10 million waiting for me in some off-shore bank. All I am being asked to do is give my full name, address, social security number, and bank account number; that's innocent enough, isn't it? But I hesitate and opportunities to help some unfortunates go not taken and I remain a poor man letting riches go between my fingers all because of paranoia.

Maybe one day I will open a "My Dear" email and learn to whom I am so dear time is taken to reach out to me from the ozone or wherever emails come from and I will realize all the opportunities I have let go.

Service Star

The service flag first showed up in World War I. The flag has a large red border on all four edges and in the center is a white field. On that white field is a blue star or stars. If a family has more than one child in a war zone then the number stars reflects that family's commitment to the war. Fortunately, My flag has only one star. If a child is killed in the war the blue star turns to gold as if it is some sort of honor to lose a child to a political mistake.

The flag with one service star flew from a pole set up at the front door of my home for a year. Never in my imagination did I come up with the idea a service star flag would be a part of my home's outward appearance. In fact, I believed in 1989, when the Berlin Wall came down, there would be no more new war veterans and that eventually the Veterans Affairs Department would eventually go out of business. Also I never imagined that Islamic fanatics would fly loaded passenger jet planes into buildings and that George W. Bush would be elected president twice. Further, I never imagined the United States would attack a country that did not attack us first.

Because all of my imaginary ideas failed to materialize, I have decided to stop imagining the good that might be waiting for us and now I imagine only the worst that might be out there. Who knows what climate change will bring? Who knows what will be the unintended consequences of invading Iraq or prolonging a conflict in Afghanistan? Who knows what the consistent official lying of a government will do to our democratic ideals and our republic? I can only hope that the year my son spent in Afghanistand did some good and the sacrifice he made by being separated from his wife and two year old son is worthy of a good cause. But, I cannot imagine it.

Now, don't get me wrong. I cannot be classified as a "pacifist." I am an "old soldier" who served on active duty for more than twenty years. My military career included most of the years of the Cold War including two years in Viet Nam. Early in my military life I served in Asia with a stint in Korea. So, I am not one who can make a blanket argument for no military actions whatsoever, but I do think that the Congress's power to declare war has been usurped, I do think the people in power are too eager to use the military for foolish adventures, and I do think that the Defense Department's function is to defend the country not make war wherever a President wants to.

So, I have taken down the service flag. It is in my hall closet. I may burn it, or I may give to my son so if he has to see his son go off to war, he will have one. The flag, now, is faded and weathered, but if it has to be used again, it will be a reminder that we still haven't got things right.