Newspapers carry full page advertisements, stores are open for sales; but post offices do not function, banks do not operate, government offices are closed. 

This could be any one of our long weekends, and to many that is all that it is indeed.

So many have no knowledge of long-ago history.

So a few weeks ago I bought a bicycle — no gears, reverse pedal for brake, your basic no-frills cheapo.  Just like the Schwinn I grew up on but a lot cheaper, and lighter. 

My dear, sweet sister, back in my roots of New Orleans, has a somewhat devilish, if not mean, streak in that she delights in calling me from restaurants back there, usually those she knows I really like, and telling me what she has sitting in front of her to eat and how delicious it is, and don’cha know, how very much she wishes I could be there with her to enjoy it.

Think of this one, at least initially, as a short piece regarding one aspect of time management.  Let’s discuss “Hurry up and wait.” 

Yes, a title like that could signal the beginning of an unending series of daily, no, make that hourly, posts due to an overabundance of material, but I challenge you, as I have myself, to a brief political analysis game.

Read the following short article and then consider the two questions I pose below it.

When I was promoted to Staff Sergeant (E-5) in January of 1968, only a few months after arriving at Perrin, I had already been thinking of renting an apartment in Sherman, but I couldn’t afford it until I was actually promoted. The dorm just wasn’t for me anymore, so I had been searching for a place on the cheap, and I do mean cheap.

Being single and with flexible time on my hands occasionally, I got to do some work for at the chapel and for the base recreation center. I’ve always liked driving so I got to do a lot of that by taking people to various events, mostly sports, in Dallas.

I’m not sure if it was a good thing in the end or not, but it at least was a bit of variety – the shop chief came to me one day and told me I had to go to the ejection seat trainer because I was picking up an additional duty of “mobile maintenance.” Huh?

1967.

After serving a tour in Southeast Asia, Vietnam, South Vietnam, whatever the term of the day for it strikes your fancy, I went home to New Orleans on leave enroute to my next duty station. I had arrived back in the States at McChord AFB, Washington and flown out of Seattle-Tacoma Airport to New Orleans, arriving New Orleans on 18 August.

That’s a statement, not a question.

For the handful who drop in from time to time, and the stats don’t lie — there isn’t much of an audience, and that’s OK, you may have wondered if I ever intended getting back to the military series. 

Memorial Day is coming up and there will be races, picnics, parades, flags flying, and all that stuff we do for people who are no longer here.  As with the purchase of an expensive casket for a deceased loved one, it does the intended party absolutely no good, but does some good for the living. 

Wrong target.

The living are not what Memorial Day is all about.

But,…

Please consider doing something for the living who may eventually be among the rolls of the unfortunate, the KIA’s and the MIA’s, those who are at the top of the Memorial Day list of those remembered and honored.  Consider doing something while they are still here and can appreciate it.  Just a little something maybe?  Most of them are our young people, and the good ones at that.

Please take a look here – Operation USO Care Package – and see if you think maybe it’s a nice idea in addition to the other stuff that does deceased honorees no good at all.  Yes, let’s honor those who have gone before, but how about let’s do for those who need it now.

And as one old fart who has opened a few packages in a war zone, I can tell you it does make a difference.  Each time.  Every time.  There is no such thing as a routine package and there is no such thing as “I really don’t need this.”  Not when you’re “over there,” wherever it may be.

There aren’t many Air Force over there and I’ve been retired a pretty good while, but as do General Officers, I retain my rank.  I am a Chief and those are enlisted people and I don’t care any more about their branch of service now than I did then.  As a Chief they are my people, and as citizens they are our people. 

Personal or business, tax deductible, too, if that makes any difference.

And if you think it’s a good idea, wouldn’t someone you know think it’s likely a good idea, too?  Pass it on.