Just Plain Furious

As if it weren't bad enough that we are abusing our military through more and more frequent deployments, now we discover that funds raised for veterans are being frittered away. This really makes me angry. Hasn't this war stolen enough?

Over the weekend, someone asked me what my dad thinks of the war. I trotted out my standard response that I really can't be his spokesman, for fear of oversimplifying his thoughts - but I also pointed out that one of the things he's talked about since getting back is the level of profiteering off the misery of this war.

And I felt odd, out of place, cold. The table was full of holiday cheer - Holy Day cheer - candles, special foods, made this one season in the year, cookies and even my candies were there, festive tableware, a special centerpiece, everyone dressed colorfully. Everyone looking forward to the gifts that would come out after dessert. The room was full of joy and fellowship, but I was talking about death and misery and the pathetic mindset that looks at that and sees opportunities for profit.

I said afterwards to my husband that I wasn't sure whether they'd wanted the answer they got, but how could I say anything else? He pointed out to me that I was alone in that room in being related to a soldier, that it's important for others to hear the real story, because it's not being told in the places it should be told.

One of my favorite stories is the one about a worthless item that turns out to be a precious gift: the hospitality of Baucis and Philemon, the fool of Notre Dame (part of the inspiration for my blog's name), the clockmaker who brings only a sandwich to the offeratory, having sold the beautiful clock he had intended to give in order to support his neighbor. I agree with O. Henry. These are the gifts of the Magi, the gift of love. Often, it's a hard gift to give. We can't know how it will be received, or what the result will be. All we can do is give in hope and trust.

"News" that isn't.

This morning on the radio, someone referred to "this year's presidential race." No, no, no. A thousand times No! Not only is the election *next* year, but the coverage so far has been a frightening amalgam of tracking who has raised the most money and who has made the best contacts with "wealthy donors" with the occasional foray into polling Americans on whom they like the best with minimal information available.

I think the reason the media has chosen to concentrate so much attention on *next year's* horserace is that we are in such a bad position right now, and we're looking desperately for a new path. Unfortunately, that turning doesn't come for more than a year, and even after the election, there are months left for further damage. No. That dog won't hunt.

Aside from these considerations, the rule of law has been seriously damaged in this country. We are slowly learning about the shameful spectacle of an attorney general not well known for his protection of civil rights being bullied into approval of something even he hesitated at while lying in a hospital bed. Enough.

Rather than waiting for Our Prince to Come, shouldn't we, the American People, be getting off our butts, turning off the idiot box, and demanding real coverage, real answers about the lies we are fed, and real action?

Some observations

Over at Shipwrecked in South Carolina, there was a series of observations. I made some observations of my own, which I think need to be made in response.

I can't speak for anyone else. I can only speak for me.

I stayed up many nights, praying for my dad's safety, praying that he wouldn't have to use the gun I saw him practicing with. I woke up in the middle of the night, knowing something was wrong, but with no chance of finding out what. I crocheted on a blanket for him through sleepless nights until my fingers were numb.

I wake up in the morning and thank God that my dad is here again, in body at least. I write to my representatives, knowing that my parents taught me the responsibility of citizens to be part of the governance of this country.

I go to work with a splitting headache because my leave was exhausted 2 months ago, with constant travel to visit with my mother who has been doing her work plus keeping my dad's business going while he was deployed.

I don't wear a t-shirt, unless I found it secondhand because I have no idea under what conditions that shirt was made - what child was kept at work 18 hours to make it. Besides, my tax refund went to care packages, so I'm not going to spend money on a shirt I can only wear 2 days a week.

I, like most Americans, do not have a maid, nor am I likely to get one any day soon. After I get home, I'll have to find the energy to pick up the living room, make dinner, wash my hair, and suck up and soldier on.

My cell phone is a treasured connection, full of possibility. Perhaps today, I'll hear from him, or maybe he'll answer an email.

I hear that soldiers are being "extended" and rage at the radio until my husband turns it off.

I worry when a friend writes that his ship will be leaving soon, and they expect to be sent later in the year to the sandbox.

I am angry because my dad's loyalty and service are being abused.

I criticize my government when the wounded are housed with rats and other vermin after they've come home. I criticize my government when my dad is given the wrong body armor. I criticize my government when billions disappear with no accounting while soldiers are sent unsafe equipment. Damned right, I criticize my government.

I criticize my government when it ignores the commission it created and puts even more lives at risk. I criticize my government because my dad put his life on the line for me not to live in a tyranny, and because there is more than one way to live bravely. My dad helped to teach me that words tend to solve more than fists.

I criticize my government when I learn that they are employing torture. Guilty? Innocent? The waterboard doesn't know the difference.

I do not and will not joke about the war. I said goodbye to my father, the taste of bile still in my mouth, because there was no time to brush my teeth after I vomited from worry.

I hear his voice from half the world away, and can't feel at peace, even in a bustling farmer's market - right between jars of apple butter and handsewn aprons.

Despite my heartbreak, I smile bravely, knowing he takes strength from his family.

I am on call. No matter what I am doing, it stops if the cell phone rings. And I smile, because he can hear the difference.

I know the world is a better place because of him. I know that when he is here, he treats people, often people who have little money. I have known him to treat people for nothing. I pray that my government will leave enough of him to allow him to continue to improve the world.

And feel free to link, email, or whatever. I don't want the lies to stand unanswered.

"Good Morning, America..."

"Good morning, America, how are yeh?" No, I didn't wake up this morning to the dulcet tones of Arlo. I wish.

Instead, I woke up to a collage of voices reciting various oaths of office, with one of those big, deep voices that corporate America always chooses as a spokesman talking over the rest and explaining to the thousands upon thousands of contractors in DC that Big Contractor, Inc. could handle all their IT and procurement... and all for the good of Mom, apple pie, and little league baseball.

Heck, my husband and I each work for contractors, as do many of our friends here, and that commercial upset me so much, I didn't manage my usual trick of letting the alarm go off 3 times before even thinking that maybe I should get up. (Not a morning person is a serious understatement with me. Left to my own devices, I have been known to start my workday at noon and eat my dinner at 10:00.)

In fact, once upon a time, long long ago, but not so long ago for people with memories, nor so very far away for people with strong boots, many of the jobs done today by a legion of contractors were done by civil servants. But a number of politicians didn't like this situation. The civil servants tended, as a group, to be far more loyal to their union (which had, after all, gotten them a serious sweetheart deal for benefits) than they were to any particular political party or politician. And, of course, there was that pesky Civil Service Exam, which meant that packing the ranks of the civil service was harder than it looked. And as for firing one who hadn't been caught in actual commission of a felony, well... it wasn't as easy as the politicians thought it should be.

And so in the name of all kinds of things, but mostly claiming it would save the American People money, we contracted out huge swaths of the jobs hitherto done by the civil service. Each agency was encouraged to contract out all kinds of jobs - anything that wasn't "core" to whatever it was that agency was supposed to be going out and doing. So, obviously, we couldn't contract out the jobs done by political appointees, or the really obvious bits - for instance, making the astronauts contractors to NASA would probably not fly; but a lot of the computer guys, maintenance guys, engineers, etc. could be safely spun off and handed to Big Business.

I'm not sure how much money the American People are saving, but I can say that the American People can safely be assumed to have paid, probably indirectly - though sometimes you can't tell, for the ad blitz that has been a feature of life in DC for years now. Certainly, we've helped with funding the huge buildings that line the Beltway, often with rather generic looking corporate logos and jumbles of letter soup on the side. And it has certainly not hurt the bottom line for politicians - they line up sweetheart contracts for their funders, while pretty much the same people keep doing the same jobs.

You don't seriously imagine that when the contract goes from XQY Corp. to YVZ, Inc., that the guy actually hired to, say, sort the mail changes, do you? No, the poor slob goes on working in some federal backroom, but of course, his healthcare benefits change, leave changes, etc. And any time he's built up at XQY is gone, because now he's officially a new hire at YVZ, never mind that he's been doing the same job for 15 years, back from when he was still civil service. Only now, the money that would have gone to his healthcare, retirement, and leave goes to YVZ.