August . . .

 The Red Headed Stepchild of Months 

The bright side of August

I have gone back in my vast archives to see if I have ever talked much about the month of August. It appears I have spared you - until now. Lucky you.

“August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time.”  Sylvia Plath

“If June was the beginning of a hopeful summer, and July the juice middle, August was suddenly feeling like the bitter end.” Sarah Dessen

Enough from poets, let's talk about August. The eighth month, named after Roman Emperor Augustus; still summer, hot, muggy and long as it slowly becomes . . . the dog days of summer. By the way, the dog days of summer were so named by the Greeks and Romans because the very bright star Sirius, the Dog Star, shows up in the night sky this time of the year so the boys in robes and togas figured it was hot like the sun and must make things hotter here. Hey, made sense at the time.

So, what do you think about August? Me first? Okay, to me, it IS an odd month. It’s just kinda . . . blah. Or maybe it’s just that the thrill of summer, if not gone, is gliding into the rearview mirror. (Is that a tiny hint of autumn in the cool morning air?) Am I the only one that feels that way? 

Hear me out.

We’re all excited in May as lawns green up, perennials appear and gardeners first get their hands dirty with veggies and annuals. Then summer officially shows up in June and we know that our suffering through months of cold and snow were worth it. Then -ta da - July! We enjoy more great weather! (Okay maybe too great weather this year but remember that in January.) Anyway - Picnics! Cabins! Fireworks! Oh my! 

The dark side of August

The month of August then comes in clinging to the coat tails of July and at first just more of the same. However, we fickle humans (in the northern hemisphere anyway) are already getting bored and tired of the heat and humidity. (Meteorologist Paul Douglas calls it "summer fatigue" so there is that.) The lakes are getting all green and yucky. We’re starting to get weary of taking care of our stupid yards. (They are stupid you know. We plant a kind of weed, fertilize it, water it, mow it – rinse and repeat for months on end.) Oh yeah, and the state fair is just a few weeks away; then time to take the boat and docks out; then fall clean up and then . . . Well, you know.

I wonder if this is the reason all Europeans take the month of August off.

Anyway, given the sense that August isn’t much more than a bridge to fall and thus to winter - and I don't want to belabor that - I think a potpourri of truly interesting non-August things is in order to distract you. (“Interesting” is, of course, in the eye of the beholder.)

Nature – and AI - Turns on Us?

Here’s an interesting thought by one of the many fellow bloggers I follow:

By Noah Smith

“As long as you or I or anyone we know has been alive, for all of recorded history - and in fact for much much longer than that - humankind has been the most intelligent thing on this planet.

At some point in the next couple of years, that will no longer be true. It arguably is no longer true right now. There is no single unarguable measure of intelligence - it’s not like distance or time. AI doesn't think in the same way humans do. But it can get gold medals on the International Math Olympiad, solve difficult outstanding math problems all on its own, and get A's in graduate school classes. Most human beings can’t do any of that."

If true, that’s kind of disappointing: Knocked off the top of the food chain by an invisible algorithm. Huh. I guess now we’ll know how all the other creatures felt when we knocked them of the top of hill over the past thousands of years.

And This is How They Do It?

By Matt O’Brien The Associated Press

Artificial intelligence chatbots are so prone to flattering and validating their human users that they are giving bad advice that can damage relationships and reinforce harmful behaviors, according to a new study that explores the dangers of AI telling people what they want to hear. 

According to another study, as an additional "favor," sucking up by AI apparently also causes even more of the Dunning-Kruger effect for us poor sad humans. You know, making us to think we are smarter than we actually are. Just what we need!

And Now for Something Completely Different

More Say ‘I Don’t"
By Tammy Lagorce • The New York Times

"From Gen X to Gen Z, a pause in the march to the altar, or a decision to skip it altogether, is becoming more common.

After an eight-year relationship ended in 2021, Chloe Bow started imagining what life might look like if she gave up on marriage.

Bow, 33, of Toronto, spent much of her 20s living with a boyfriend who became her fiancée. Then, during the pandemic, she realized she was feeling unfulfilled but had settled out of a familiar fear: What if I end up alone? But now, being alone is the goal, she said. No relationships, no marriage. Forever.

"I can't think of one person in a relationship that I would want for myself," Bow said. "I've done it before and prefer focusing on me and my own needs."

She is not alone. Data shows that the number of households with married couples is down by over 20 percent. Experts aren’t certain if this is just a blip, a generational thing or a new normal. I have no opinion but one thing is sure – right, wrong or indifferent, those uppity women will be held to blame for not getting hitched like their moms and grandmas. (Okay, that last part is sarcasm in case your sarcasm detector is kaput.)

Just in – Shocking News!

A third of Americans say they're reading fewer books

Perhaps we should happy it's only 36%

As the summer reading season begins in earnest, a third of Americans say they're reading fewer books for personal enjoyment than they did 10 years ago — a decline that cuts across age and education levels.

Why you may ask?



But all is not lost . . .

Fred Backus - June 18, 2026 / CBS News

"Though many Americans are reading fewer books, most haven't given up reading altogether: about a third read upwards of six books a year, including 12% who read more than 20. And it's not just older people who are reading books: younger adults read about the same number of books as older adults, though women read more books than men.

A quarter of Americans, however, say they don't generally read any books at all."

I generally read about 25 books a year. (It should be more but I have very important outdoor "activities" that require my attention in the summer.)

I hope you are reading as much as you can.

Food for Thought to Get Through August

Philosopher Sam Harris

"We are dying by clips. As consumers of information, we are inundated with half-truths and outright lies and yet we let our view of people or issues be decided in these five minute - or even 45 second clips (Tik Tok) - is shattering us." 

Finally (I hear the great sighs of relief) 

This from writer Brent Donnelly, a nice counterpoint to that info above. I know you have heard something like this before but it's a good reminder:

“Delete the apps. Touch grass. Read books. Pay attention. Talk to your neighbors. Go outside. Make things. Pay attention. Refuse the algorithm. Reclaim your time. Love your family. Find community. Plant a garden. Buy less. Vote. Pray. Cook. Walk. Pay attention. Call your mom.”

REALLY Final

“This morning, the sun endures past dawn. I realize that it is August: the summer's last stand.” Sara Baume

You know, August kinda gets a raw deal just because of where it's located on the calendar. At least it's not Jan or Feb. Besides, it can't be too bad, it brought me daughter number two!

Boys of Summer   Don Henley

First Day of August  Carol King

Still the Shining City on the Hill?

America at 250 Yrs

An homage to July 20th, 1969

City on the Hill    

"Nations reel and stagger on their way; they make hideous mistakes; they commit frightful wrongs; they do great and beautiful things. And shall we not best guide humanity by telling the truth about all this, so far as the truth is ascertainable?"

  

W.E.B. Du Bois

Yes, there was a time when America was seen as the glittering City on the Hill. I mean it wasn’t perfect - nothing is - and it didn’t glitter for everyone but it was there nonetheless. A city that made sacrifices for others in the Civil War, WWI and II and even our misguided wars since. It was a city where we were sure tomorrow would be better than today and parents could expect their children to have better lives than theirs. Despite our flaws, it was a country that worked; a country that made great promises and kept them.

Promises like putting a man on the moon.

I remember that night very clearly even though it was fifty-seven years ago, July 20th, 1969. I was a 21-year- old dude working at Donaldson’s department store downtown MPLS between my junior and senior years in college. Life was pretty simple and living really was easy – the girls smiled often! (It was a very good year!) There was a war raging far from home and I was likely headed there in a year or so when I graduated since I was in AFROTC. But that was okay because on that night, watching on a tv sitting on a picnic table outside a friend’s house in south Minneapolis as Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon, nothing else mattered . . . because I lived in the greatest country in the world.

"One small step for man, One giant leap for mankind"

We recently celebrated our 250th birthday as a nation.  A big deal for us but as many nations go we are barely a teenager. A privileged one, but a teenager - with all the teen struggles - nonetheless. Yet we deserved that celebration (although forget the embarrassing events in our nation's capital.) Our 250 yrs is full of "frightful wrongs" and "great and beautiful things" - and we're still standing. 

With the celebrations over perhaps this is a good time, as W.E.B. says, to seek the truth: How do we measure up to our lofty expectations from so long ago as residents of the City on the Hill. Are we still that shining city?

 

In all honesty, I don't even know what the criteria are for that lofty position: Freedom? Wealth? Opportunity? Faith/Hope/Charity? Must we have all of them? Perhaps it is some mystical brew of positive things that one just believes in - not unlike religion? 

Whatever they are, something is off. 

Despite my sometime cynicism, I've always been a closet optimist about the future and that optimism has always been rewarded. I still retain an appreciation for my own good luck in life - the luckiest man in the luckiest generation in the luckiest country - but something has changed, something fundamental in our country. Perhaps other people have also sensed an ill wind as well. I hasten to add, however, that as bad as the last few years have been, this sense of . . . dissipation? . . . goes back many years. No, whatever we're feeling did not happen overnight. 

In fact, America is still a big, wealthy country. People are living their everyday lives, going to work, kids are playing, folks taking vacations; everything seems to be normal. Until it isn't.

Look deeper and there are many flashing red lights. A partial list: An economy that benefits only the top income tiers, out of control healthcare, education and housing costs and a dangerously dysfunctional federal government. More recently, denial of science and climate change, reversing hard-won rights for women and the LGBTQ community and immigration laws reduced to violent imprisonment/deportation.

Worst of the worst?

Most dangerous of all, we tolerate leaders who endorse white supremacy, feel free to violate centuries of civil behavior and assault Constitutional norms and democracy itself. 

Sure she feels safe surrounded by all those cosplay "patriots"

So, are all the "frightful wrongs" we've made over our two and half century life finally catching up to us now like a slow growing tumor? Or is it our complacency and sense of entitlement? 

Wherever the truth lies, that’s why I feel that we're no longer a country full of hope, big dreams and big accomplishments. We have become - or driven to become? - small, petty, fearful people retreating into tribes, intent on grabbing everything we own and hugging it to ourselves like some paranoid old person living alone in a cardboard box.

Whatever the case, I am certain the light of the shining city on the hill is dimming.

Yet all is not darkness. We are still a rich nation with smart, hardworking people and this dreadful administration won't last forever (we hope.) There is still much to love -  just ask all the soccer fans!

And there are positive signs . . .

Chief among them, this past winter we watched a powerful movement here as neighbors helped neighbors during the ICE invasion. This provided a jolt of human strength and kindness that shot throughout the country and around the world. Now more Americans than ever are finally paying attention to our nation's ills and getting involved to change things. Perhaps best of all, the younger generations bring great hope - they are smart, engaged and know what they want. (It may not be what you or I want but it will be their country soon.) 

July 20th and that moon landing stands as a reminder that there once was a shining City on a Hill. It wasn’t perfect but we knew it wasn't and always strove to be better. We now face a stark choice: start the long, hard work to reascend that hill . . . or prepare for even more darkness.

Choose wisely.

For our belated 250th birthday, some positive music!

I Can See Clearly Now    Johnny Nash

Celebration   Kool and the Gang

Fathers Day and the Summer Solstice. . .

           A Bad Combo Adding Insult to Injury on Father's Day?                           

Happy golfers on Fathers Day 

until . . .

. . . Discovering the Summer Solstice falls on this Fathers Day AND US Open final round!

Father’s Day and the summer solstice, on the same damn day!? I wonder if there is a hidden message or meaning to this  . . . "coincidence."

Everyone knows that Father’s Day is the least important of the many made-up holidays. Don't believe me? Then how come all the FD greeting cards say, "Dear Dad . . . Who Cares, LMAO!” Also, you can count on one hand the number of times you see a kid waving and yelling “Hi dad” on tv, it’s always “Hi mom!” And that’s okay, moms deserve it. Besides, that’s the way it should be, dads are meant to toil in familial obscurity. We can’t compete with a mother’s love so all we can do is try to compete with brute sincerity - and the occasional game of hoops or playing catch. A dad’s love may not make for clever Hallmark cards but that doesn’t make it any less real (just a little less obvious.)

So, we get this one day a year to pretend like we are an equal partner in the hearts of our family and what happens? It’s accompanied by the worst day of the year, the summer solstice! Don’t believe me? Think about this:

3:25AM Sun June 21st - Beautiful right?

Enjoy it because . . .

                                                                                                                               . . . In just a few weeks this is the next stop, pal!

Unlike its winter alter ego which signals the beginning of hope, the summer solstice signals the opposite. Minnesota summer: endless, lazy days with blue skies and puffy, white, fair-weather clouds. Days of long, perfect drives down the middle of the fairway and short putts. (Forget that first part. Okay, also the second part.) Of short nights with cool breezes by the lake and the Milky Way shimmering above. Of girls in tank tops and men in speedos. (Better forget that last thing too.) Then, at its peak . . . the solstice comes along and robs us of this magic, laughing as it does so and replacing it with the long slide to the depths of winter. 

But that's not all. Get this: the US Open golf championship always ends on Father's Day. Kinda nice, for us dads, right? Ha! It's a close call every year but in a rare inexplicable alignment of earth, sun, the calendar and unknown nefarious forces, every so often - like this year - the summer solstice spreads it dark shadow precisely over this joyous day. Oh, the humanity!

Okay, now think about this: we know the solstice always occurs about this same time every year - and has for, like, a pretty long time. Father’s Day was started in the US in 1910 (by a woman!) then many years later someone (evil doers who hate dads and golf?) decided to park it right next to this lugubrious astronomical event. Seriously? Since nobody cares why not plop it down in August (like Taiwan) or March (like Lichtenstein), or any other months without holidays. Hmmm? 

As for the US Open, I know what you are thinking: why not move it. Well that's just silly talk - it would be easier to change the solstice!

So, this is a test! One day a year a dad gains a bit of stature as the other adult in the house – and it’s quickly snuffed out by the gloom that comes with the summer solstice. How will I react to this outrage? Will I snivel and whine about my fate? Will I complain about yet another snub to my male ego? Will I declare the victim-hood I have so justly earned? No, damn it, no! This is where I prove to my family that an American dad can accept the abuse the gods heap on me with the calm and dignity that has made me a legend at every sporting event of my kids. It's evidence that my cluelessness to most domestic dramas is just my way of staying neutral and, finally, proof that offering a clumsy hug is my way of kissing to make it better. It is a test I shall pass with a strong C+!

In any event I wish a Happy Father’s Day to all my fellow dads. We may be overweight and underappreciated but we love and are loved and that will always do. Besides, only six months to the winter solstice!

On a positive note . . .

My Role Model

                                           

Marvelous Marv, the only guy who could foxtrot to anything  (much to mom's chagrin.)

33 years gone and I still miss you very much, pop - you old smoothie!

The Spendid Splinter's favorite only dance tune.

All of Me    Willie Nelson

Note: Fear not, much of this is tongue in cheek - just not the part about the summer solstice. I do hate it so!

A Dog's Tail . . .

 

Dear Prudence

2013 - New puppy in the house

You might remember that we lost our puppy a few months ago. Most people who own a pet, and especially dog owners, can vouch for the pain of losing them. It truly sucks.Time has passed and the pain, while still lurking, has lessened enough that I thought I might offer a eulogy of sorts for our special girl and perhaps an ode to pets in general. It seems the least I can do. 

We have lost other dogs before Prudence and it is always painful. It’s just that we had her for much longer and had many more adventures with her so this doubly hurt.

Never owned a cat, never owned a gerbil, never owned fish; never owned anything but a dog. I assume there is some connection with those pets as well but I can only say that if that connection is anything like the one with a dog well then, I feel sorry for those owner’s loss too.

Prudie and her niece Lucy

Pru, like her little predecessor Penny Lane, was a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. As you can see from her picture, she confirms the world-wide opinion that they are among most beautiful of dog breeds.

Her nephew Odin

The poorly kept secret is that the only thing more beautiful than their appearance is their loving nature. Of course, all dogs tend to love their owners (even if we don't deserve it) but Cav’s are special. After all, they were bred to be lovers and lapdogs specifically for their British royalty masters. King Charles – duh! (Something else besides the Magna Carta to be grateful to the Brits for?)

Daddy's girl - It's always naptime 

Prudie’s breed, the Cavaliers, are noted not just for their beauty and wonderful personality, sadly they are also noted for their bad hearts. Yup, a curse of their breed (and breeding) is a faulty ticker - very few Cav’s live to 10. Pru blew past that and made it almost to 13.

A cynic might say that this is just another thing about us top-of-the-food-chain dwellers; we get to screw up other species by mixing different breeds for our own enjoyment. For example, Labradoodles are being diagnosed with hip dysplasia, elbow dysplasia and Addison’s; all recognized disorders in both parent breeds. 

Ah well, no price is too high to satisfy our human whims.

Penny Lane (Died of kidney failure at two)

Cavaliers are, or at least Prudie was, weird about other dogs. Not mean just not interested - Cavs don't have a mean bone in their body. The only other dog that Pru got excited about was our neighbor's Cavalier, a smaller spitting image of her, their darling Chloe. Those two could spot each other blocks away! The sad punchline: Chloe died last fall . . . of heart problems, leaving Pru friendless.

Boating with mom

            But I digress.

One of their less than positive traits, besides dying young, is incredible shedding. Yes, Cav’s have a gloriously beautiful coat - and they share it generously throughout the house. We or our cleaning lady could vacuum up what seemed a full dog’s worth of hair every time. Very irritating (but she always did it with a grimace smile on her face.) You guessed it though, Mrs Dear Leader and I now really miss that irritating chore. We also miss the click, click, click of her nails as she moved from one of her lounging areas to another. (Towards the end that was pretty much her only exercise.) Yes, it was time.

Wow, try this dad, it's really comfortable!

We also "miss" the chore of administering her medicine twice a day. Yeah, ironically Pru’s heart was as strong as a bull's but she had canine diabetes. Anyway, she and I had developed our own little routine for giving her medicine: five little pieces of cheese – a favorite of her’s – dispersed with her joint medicine pills, the insulin and her eye drops, (did I mention that Mrs Dear Leader had gifted Pru with cataract surgery - $$$$ - a couple years ago?) Anyway, five pieces. Twice a day. Every day. She knew and expected every step to be followed and knew when it was due. Never was there a better patient.

Don't leave me in FL!

I admit I don’t miss paying the 300 bucks a month for the medicine. Nonetheless, I would be delighted to do so if she were still with us. But as I said, it was time. Between the pills and shots and trips to the vet you could see in her beautiful brown eyes that she was just . . . weary.

As an aside, apparently vets and pharmaceutical companies cracked the code on how much we love our pets and decided to cash in by gouging us. (Sorry, sore subject with me.) 

I think we have all thought about – and envied? - the person who went to sleep and just never woke up. Well, we were hoping that would happen with Prudie. We had been through the terrible pain and turmoil of putting our Penny Lane to sleep and knew what that meant. But not to be – she was a tough old girl! - so MDL, the strongest and bravest between us, finally made the decision and the arrangements.

Smart dog, knows her dad! 

The saving grace is that today you can have the vet come to your house. Your best friend can be comfortable in her own home as you say good bye. It was all very peaceful and calm as she quietly went to sleep . . . forever. 

It hurts like hell but we are comforted by the fact that it was the right thing to do. Maybe someday we’ll figure out a way to treat us humans with this kind of dignity and peace when it's our time.

There is this wonderful poem and meme called the Rainbow Bridge. It alludes to your pet passing over a bridge when they die to some mystical place where they await their human to join them. It’s a sweet, comforting sentiment. Even though I doubt we "go" anywhere when we keel over, I would sure be delighted to go wherever the dogs are. (Sadly, I’m pretty sure they wouldn't have us troublesome humans!) 

Pretty girl    2013-2026

Finally, one thing I have learned is that perhaps aside from your mother, you will never be loved by anyone like you are by your dog. Don't take it for granted!

So that is our tale of joy and woe, all part of giving your heart to a pet. 

Thanks for allowing me to share.

PS

The more clever among you maybe caught the naming theme we inherited from our daughter. Hmmm, what for the next puppy: Lady Madonna, Lovely Rita, Polyethylene Pam, Eleanor . . . ?

But I think it will be a while before we go through this again.

Music

Good Dogs   Jameson Rodgers

Memorial Day 2026 - When Johnny Comes Marching Home . . .

 

War By Any Other Name

One of 157 Military Cemeteries in the Country

Since 1868, Memorial Day has been reserved for us to take time out from our busy lives to recognize and remember all those who have faithfully served their country, especially those who paid the ultimate price. We fly our flags, attend ceremonies in cemeteries across the country and many dedicate the day to family gatherings. These are great traditions and are appreciated by all and especially those who have served.

Sadly, after a brief hiatus, it is yet another Memorial Day with the nation at war. Make that a “Military Conflict.” As with every other military action since WWII, we are told this is not a war. Also, as with every other conflict since WWII, tell that to the parents of the dead and injured GI’s; such distinctions mean very little.

Since WWII we have had several major “conflicts" starting with Korea and then Vietnam - but that is far from all the combat actions that have put US personnel at risk. Here are just a few of those actions:

- In the 80’s we invaded Grenada (operation Urgent Fury); lost 241 marines in the Lebanon hotel bombing; and we also bombed Libya.

- In the 90’s we liberated Panama (operation Just Cause); First Iraq war (Operation Desert Storm) and who can forget the Somalia incursion and “Black Hawk Down?”; also bombed Bosnia/Serbia. 

- The 2000's started with 9/11 and the "war on terror" in Iraq - again (Iraqi Freedom); and Afghanistan (Enduring Freedom.) Those major conflicts ended fairly recently. 

- So far, we have also bombed Syria, Iran and Libya - again. Not sure how to categorize it but we also kidnapped arrested the president of Venezuela (Absolute Resolve.) 

 - And sadly, we are now back in yet another “conflict” in the Middle East (Iran - Epic Fury.)

And we still have troops all over the world. 

Blackhawk

We are often told these actions are the “price of freedom” or “fighting for democracy." Sometimes I wonder if those phrases are thrown about a bit too loosely. As the famous German general and brilliant military strategist Carl von Clausewitz declared, war is a "continuation of political intercourse, carried on by other means." Almost certainly true - but not quite as rousing as "price of freedom" is it.

One can’t help but recognize, however, that these conflicts always start with our politicians' total confidence in our cause. Then, with fanfare, sharp uniforms, flags waving and great parades, the youth of our country go marching forward - from one conflict to another. Later, we see those Johnny’s - and Judy’s - come home again . . . with arms and legs missing or PTSD so bad they can no longer function in normal society.

It is not until much later in life that an old vet of several of those "conflicts" might ask, “what was it all for?” Perhaps it’s my advanced years – and well-honed cynicism - but I have just grown weary of watching that same sad scene happening over and over with apparently little to show for it.

A cynical person might also conclude that wars seem to be the only bipartisan attribute of our government. These actions have been equally undertake taken by Democrat and Republican administrations alike; by liberals and conservatives - and always somehow portrayed as “fighting for liberty."

I don't know the answer for the conundrum of assuring that a war – or conflict – is worth the price that our military always pays. As a retired officer of 28 years, however, I understand better than most that it is never the prerogative of the GI to ask why we are fighting, it is simply to salute smartly and charge the damn hill! It is not and cannot be the military’s duty or right to ask why. We answer our government’s call and serve only the Constitution – no matter the cause – and always will. 

Nonetheless, with a price so high it does seem to be a question worth asking.

Return of a fallen hero. . .

With that in mind as we celebrate Memorial Day, perhaps we can all take this opportunity to think about our own responsibilities in the decision to send our youth into harm’s way. In addition to ceremonies and picnics, it seems a small additional effort for all those who have answered - and will continue to answer - their country’s call without question.

In closing, I have posted the following on several past Memorial Days because I have never been able to find a better expression of my thoughts about this important day. To those of you who have read it before and grow weary, I apologize. To others, perhaps it will strike a chord. 

"War is young men (and now women) dying and old men talking."  Franklin Roosevelt        

Thoughts on "Taps."

I can’t listen to taps without tearing up. Sometimes I’m not sure why this is so. Is it because of the magnificent mournful horn that so perfectly matches the feeling of saying farewell to a warrior? Or am I crying for all the loved ones left behind — the millions and millions over many years? Perhaps I’m crying for something else, maybe I’m crying for myself.

Ultimately, I think I’m crying because taps reminds me that the world never seems to change for the better. No matter how many heroes pay the ultimate price, war always demands more. Worse, it always our young whom it craves. Worst of all, we proudly offer them up.

Maybe I’m sad that someone somewhere will always be able to make complete strangers kill each other for the same reasons over and over, like an eternal World War I trench battle that rages over the same, small piece of ground in perpetuity. Each generation, like some militant Sisyphus, pushes the rock of war up the hill only to have it roll back on the next. No matter how just, proud or righteous that rock appears, it remains a monument to a belligerent humanity’s worst instincts.

I spent 28 years in the military and my son has also served honorably. Someday taps will sound for each of us. And for that I am proud. But knowing that melancholy song will need to be played for endless future generations will always make me cry.

Not for sadness but for anger.  

Although that time when wars will no longer plague us is apparently still far in the future, perhaps commemorating Memorial Day can provide us with some hope that it will eventually come to pass.

Have a thoughtful Memorial Day.

D Roger Pederson

Taps USAF Band