Supporting the troops?
Over the weekend, I dropped off a couple of massive care packages for the troops. Snacks, books, DVDs, silly putty, puzzles, simple shelf stable meals - gathered with good friends. (Thanks, Rae and Mr. Rae, for going shopping with, for packing, for *being there*.) As I pulled out of the Post Office parking lot*, I saw an enormous SUV with the back just covered in those "patriotic" magnets - yellow ones, and red white and blue ones. And I felt frustrated.
I wanted very much to walk up to the driver of said vehicle and ask what form (other than magnets) their support had taken. I wanted to be able to somehow send more. I wanted (and want) this mess to be over. Really over, not just whitewashed and declared over. Not "Mission Accomplished". I want my dad to go with his interpreter to the interpreter's family's farm, sit on the porch, and chat with the folks there about what kinds of crops grow well in Iraq, and what it was like to grow up on a farm in America. I want the grass to grow over the scars on the land so that eventually, it will fill in - like the old Civil War fortifications one still sometimes sees near my home.
Every time I hear the "We broke it so we have to stay until we fix it" argument, I want to answer - you don't fix having broken most of the plates in the cabinet by breaking the rest so everything matches. We're not working on fixing, we're still working on breaking. Where are the diplomats working on solutions with real possibilities? Where is the accountability for contractors? Where are the sewers?
Where are we?
*(No, I wasn't going to walk them over. Even with Priority Mail, $75 is a lot of postage...)
I wanted very much to walk up to the driver of said vehicle and ask what form (other than magnets) their support had taken. I wanted to be able to somehow send more. I wanted (and want) this mess to be over. Really over, not just whitewashed and declared over. Not "Mission Accomplished". I want my dad to go with his interpreter to the interpreter's family's farm, sit on the porch, and chat with the folks there about what kinds of crops grow well in Iraq, and what it was like to grow up on a farm in America. I want the grass to grow over the scars on the land so that eventually, it will fill in - like the old Civil War fortifications one still sometimes sees near my home.
Every time I hear the "We broke it so we have to stay until we fix it" argument, I want to answer - you don't fix having broken most of the plates in the cabinet by breaking the rest so everything matches. We're not working on fixing, we're still working on breaking. Where are the diplomats working on solutions with real possibilities? Where is the accountability for contractors? Where are the sewers?
Where are we?
posted by Plain Foolish | 7:31 AM
1 Comments:
Thank you, both for myself, and for the (other!) lucky recipients of your care packages.
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