Month: November 2005

  • If you cheat in a dream is it still cheating?

    Ha, ha.  I know what your thinking….your thinking I had a wet
    dream and it wasn’t with my old man.  You’d be wrong.  But I
    do love the way you think.

    Nope, I dreamed I was smoking.  Which must mean that
    sub-consciously all the old bad habits and triggers are still
    there.  I hate that, but I hate worse all the things about my life
    that “having a smoke” controlled.   I quit though, and I’m
    still quit and I haven’t cheated, at least not while I was awake. 
    I’m so proud of me, childishly proud. 

    This is sad so quit reading now if you want:
    Last Friday was Veterans Day, Armistice Day in France.  We had a
    three day weekend so we went to the Verdun Battlefields. 
    WWI……………..June 28 1914 to November 11, 1918  11:00 P.M.
    I
    knew of Verdun, I just didn’t know any details.  In and around
    Verdun there are 43 French, 29 German and 2 American cemeteries. There
    are 153,969 identified people in those cemeteries.  This is a
    picture of the French National cemetery and Ossuary at Douamont. 
    This Ossuary contains bones from over 130,000 French and German
    soldiers who couldn’t be identified.  That is just one ossuary
    there are others.  It is still considered one of the bloodiest
    battles in history.  Nine villages were completely wiped off the
    Earth, never to be rebuilt.  The land along the front is still
    riddled with mines and unexploded shells. The ground is still
    pockmarked with trenches and deep mine craters.  It is a place
    that makes you sad.  It is a place where even though 87 years have
    passed since the war ended you can still see ghosts of the dead. 
    You can feel the cost of war.  We went to some of the forts that
    were so hotly contested.  Sometimes being shelled for 10 or 12
    hours non-stop.  Day after day, month after month.  The French countryside is so beautiful and quiet,
    it’s hard to imagine how hellish it must have been. 
    Reading about spending 10 days next to a man blown in half is quite
    different than being there in that trench.  Seeing the green grass
    cover the shell holes and then seeing the pictures from a day or so
    after they were made, a lunar landscape covered in blood and body
    parts. 
    We went in silence from place to place.  When we talked it was in
    hushed voices.  And to either side of us on this Armistice day we
    heard German, French and English.  All of us come together in this
    place of war to remember the sacrifice these men made for their
    country.  Some not even understanding why.  Fighting only
    because their country called on them to do so.
    I remember in the
    movie Forest Gump when
    he is in Vietnam and his best friend is dying, Bubba
    says “Forest, why did this happen?” and then just before he dies in his
    best friends arms he says “I want to go home”.  In how many wars,
    in how many
    countries over how many centuries has man said while dying in a war not
    fully understood, I want to go
    home?  No matter how justified a war is there is always a
    cost.  There is always a price paid with the blood of our men and
    women.  In the case of the battle of Verdun, France the cost was
    an entire generation of men dead.  For a few miles of land more
    than 500,000 died, I find that incredibly sad.   Someday we
    will all understand the futility of our endeavors, I hope then we can
    live in peace.  Honestly though I don’t see it happening in my
    lifetime.

  • This is my guilt talking.  Why in the hell I should feel guilty
    about not posting is beyond me but I do.  I think I had 2 previous
    lives, one as a Catholic and one Jewish both master of the guilty
    conscious.  Of course this puts me on my third guilty life, that
    of a lapsed southern baptist…..yup, I’m going to hell.  
    Fire, brimstone and the whole nine yards of guilt.  I can feel my
    blood pressure going up just thinking about it.

    Prague, Czech.

    My favorite picture of the whole weekend.  If you look closely you
    can see an American flag flying from just below one of the
    spires.  That’s the American Embassy.  I suggest not going
    there if you need help, the marines won’t let you in without an
    appointment.   Maybe they would have let us in if we had
    actually needed help but I find it odd that an American can’t look
    around the American Embassy.   What the hell are they hiding
    in there? 
    p.s. If you click on the pic. it shows larger but it’s still not as good as the actual print.