Once more about the Honor Flight

I want to take one more — and final — pass at explaining why the recent Honor Flight I joined meant so much to me. Here goes, then I’m done with telling this tale.

Upon our return from a two-day whirlwind swing through Washington, D.C., our group of 45 military veterans and our guardians received the greeting to end all greetings. Honor Flights are intended to enable citizens to express their gratitude for the service that veterans perform on behalf of our great nation. I was inducted into the U.S. Army in 1968 and served exactly two years before separating in 1970 from the military.

My service was nothing worthy of boasting. In a sense, the gratitude I received personally seemed a bit overdone. That’s beside the point.

The point I seek to make here is the greeting we got when we arrived at Love Field. We heard a Scottish bagpipe band, we walked from the plane to a greeting from about 1,000 folks. We had a lengthy rank of high school ROTC cadets standing at attention, frozen in a hand salute.

Then there were the signs. They said, “Welcome home!” For those of us who served in Vietnam, seeing a sign welcoming us home is far more impactful than a “Thank you for your service.” When I hear that latter greeting these days, to be honest, it sounds a bit like a cliche.

Every now and then, if I am wearing a ‘Nam vet gimme cap, I’ll get a “Welcome home, brother” from a fellow who is as old as I am. Those greetings mean more to many of us, I feel confident in expressing, than a “thanks for your service.”

We didn’t come home back in the day to marching bands and flag-waving crowds. I didn’t get abused by some Americans who heaped verbal scorn on vets returning from the war. However, the difference between what we saw just the other evening at Love Field reminded many of us of the cold shoulder we once received from a public that simply shrugged and looked the other way.

It’s true, ‘Hey Jude’ tops the list

For years I have been braying out this mantra … that “Hey Jude” is the greatest song ever recorded. Ever, in music history.

Now comes a company, Collider, that has analyzed the entire Beatles catalogue of great music and has determined what I have already known, although it does limit its analysis to Beatles music. It says “Hey Jude,” written primarily by Paul McCartney, is the top Beatles hit of them all.

An article I saw online states: “Choosing a single “perfect’ Beatles song is ultimately a matter of opinion, especially given the extraordinary quality of the band’s catalog. Yet ‘Hey Jude’ possesses many of the qualities fans and critics value most: memorable songwriting, emotional depth, musical ambition, and universal appeal.

“More than fifty years after it first topped the charts, the song continues to inspire singalongs, spark discussions, and remind listeners why The Beatles remain one of the greatest bands of all time.”

The piece I saw attributes this ranking to a “respected music publication.” I want to suggest that the author is so correct about “Hey Jude.” If I’m driving my vehicle somewhere, I’ve been known to park it when “Hey Jude” plays on the radio. I want to listen to all 7 minutes and 11 seconds of it … including the end that seems to never end.

Many of us know the back story behind the song. Paul began writing as a comforting tune for young Julian Lennon, who’s dad — John Lennon — was divorcing his first wife, and Julian’s mother, Cynthia. The lyrics seek to comfort those in emotional trouble. That was McCartney’s aim in writing the lyrics that Julian heard.

I won’t try to persuade anyone here that “Hey Jude” indeed is the greatest song in music history. I am just flabbergasted that some folks in the know have rated it at the top of the Beatles catalogue. Naming the greatest piece of music ever performed by anyone, well … no doubt that’s too steep a hill for anyone to climb.

Donald, think of us out here … eh?

Donald … and no, I won’t refer to as Mr. Anything, but I have a message for you.

Stop messing with my income, my retirement savings, the nest egg I want to leave my family. I am sickened by your ridiculous war that you pledged never to start. I am tired of watching my investment account shrink because of you, your idiotic advisers and that dimwit you have serving as defense secretary.

The price of oil keeps skyrocketing. Same with the price of everyday grocery items. You’ve imposed an illegal tariff on everything this country imports. And stop with the lies about all that money you say is pouring into the Treasury from those tariffs. Those tariffs are, Donald, a regressive tax that everyone in this country pays.

I have been sick of this crap that has flowed from your pie hole from the very first day you launched your 2016 campaign. My sickness only has worsened the longer you have been in office.

You are a lying piece of mule dookey, and the sound of your voice only worsens my condition.

The Iran war must end. We have to assist Ukraine in their effort to defeat the Russian invaders. And you must end this tariff BS.

There. Now that I’ve got that off my chest, I think I’ll try to figure out how to pay my bills.

Combat ineffective? My ass … !

Next time our idiot Defense Secretary declares that Iran’s military has been reduced to “ineffective in combat,” or has been rendered “defenseless,” remind Pete Hegseth that his lies have been exposed with every report on Iran’s attack on U.S. and other regional targets.

Iranian drones today struck a Saudia Arabian oil pipeline, rendering it useless “for the time being.”

U.S. and Israeli airstrikes have rendered Iran’s military to being ineffective?

My … ass!

 

Recalling quick trip through history

I have spent a good chunk of today recalling the tremendous, emotion-packed weekend I just spent touring the nation’s capital with friends … and acquaintances who have become my friends.

I took part in an Honor Flight to D.C. to receive a pat on my back for the service I delivered to my country as a snot-nosed teenager, who ended up serving the Army in Da Nang, South Vietnam. Words are inadequate to describe the feelings that overwhelmed me at times during our quick-as-hell visit to Washington.

There were 45 Honor Flight participants on this trip. Many of them served in ‘Nam; others served nearby in places like Thailand and the Philippines. Others still didn’t serve in a war zone, but they too were eligible to take part in an Honor Flight. They came and received the love that Honor Flight organizers give everyone who dons a uniform and choose to serve.

Three events caused me to show my sappy side. The first was the Love Field Fire Department firing water hoses into the air in an arch to celebrate our flight as it departed the airport in Dallas; the fire department salute came after being applauded by onlookers as we entered the ticket area to prepare for boarding. We received countless expressions of thanks from those who clapped at us we walked through the airport. We each had “guardians,” volunteers who served as our helpers. If we needed wheelchair aid, someone to carry gifts, or just be there to serve as our companions, the guardians were there. My guy was a former Air Force airman who lives in Tyler. He’s now a dear friend.

No. 2 occurred on our arrival at Reagan National Airport in D.C. Staffers and onlookers began applauding us as we deplaned. So help me, I thought of The Gipper — and wondered if he would have been there to applaud us as well.

We scurried from memorial to memorial the first day. It was a busy time, but we got through it. Our hotel accommodations were first class.

The next day was much like the first day. Breakfast was served. We chatted with each other, had plenty of laughs over our remembrances.

Then we departed for Baltimore-Washington International Airport. Our return from BWI was set and we took off for Love Field, where event No. 3 awaited me.

We landed and were instructed to let the non-Honor Flight passengers depart first. We did. Then we exited the aircraft. I had told the jetliner captain to “have a good flight” when we boarded and thanked when we got by saying, “Good job, Skipper. The flight was great.”

While waiting at the gate we were instructed — again! — to stay put until we got the signal to head for the front door.

We got the “high sign” and headed out of the airport … where we were greeted by a huge throng of folks, chanting to the sound of a Scottish bagpipe band playing that Scottish anthem you always hear at these events.

They were cheering, clapping, thanking us for our service. My family was there. My sons, my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter were there to tell me of their love for me and thanked all of us for serving our nation.

It was an unbelievable experience that I will take with me to the moment my time is up.

I am thrilled to have taken part in this wonderful moment.

Shut up, Donald, about that bribe

Donald Trump’s offer of a $5,000 “dividend” to every living U.S. citizen he would pay if the midterm election turns out the way he wants it is nothing more than a bribe … so that’s what I will call it from this moment forward.

Accordingly, I just wish Donald would cease offering the bribe by yammering through his overfed pie hole.

House Speaker Mike Johnson said the bribe requires a congressional vote to become legal. It won’t ever get that far.

A bribe is what we all know it to be. It is a payment to someone who does someone else a favor. Trump’s poll numbers are taking faster than an ocean liner that hits an iceberg. Donald knows it, even if he doesn’t acknowledge it. The bribe is meant to give those who reside in MAGA Land a glimmer of hope that Donald can actually deliver the goods. He cannot.

There once was a day when real Republican conservatives railed at the thought of a budget deficit. Remember when Ronald Reagan chided President Carter during the 1980 presidential campaign for running the government on a deficit that totaled $43 billion? It scored enough political points to carry him to a landslide victory. Trump’s deficits have been running consistently in the trillions of dollars. Sending bribe money out to every American is going to blow an even bigger hole in the deficit and add another $1.4 trillion to the national debt.

Donald Trump is a feckless fool for even suggesting such a thing. He ought to shut his trap.

And concentrate on ending that idiotic war in Iran.

Ready to receive long-awaited thanks

My day today was spent doing something I didn’t think I would do … which was think about a brief trip to the nation’s capital to receive thanks for my service to the nation.

The Honor Flight about which I have written on this blog is at hand. The Honor Flight is the 63rd such venture from the Dallas/Fort Worth area to Washington, D.C. We depart early tomorrow from Love Field. Our plane will carry 45 military veterans and “guardians” assigned to assist with anything under the sun that we might need on our whirlwind visit.

We’re going to hit the ground in a full sprint when we arrive in D.C. I don’t know the precise itinerary, but I am aware it will include the major memorials and monuments along the National Mall. We will see the World War II memorial, the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, the Korean War Memorial, the FDR Memorial, the MLK Jr. Memorial, the Lincoln Memorial, the Jefferson Memorial, Arlington National Cemetery (including the changing of the guard).

I need to mention the Reflecting Pool, the one that’s been in the news after Donald Trump messed it up by trying to dye the water blue, only to have it turn out green.

I am anxious to see it all and to share some of my not-very-exciting military story with fellow vets.

We’re going to get lots of thank you greetings from strangers, or so I have been told. They will deliver thanks for our service, much of which we didn’t get when we returned home when we were so much younger. The nation was not used to “losing” a war and many Americans blamed soldiers like me for the failed policies we were ordered to carry out. Don’t misunderstand: I didn’t get spit on when I got home, but I did get a wide range of indifference from strangers when I informed them of my then-recent history, which involved a brief tour of duty in Vietnam.

The good folks who arranged this Honor Flight assure us that’s all about to change. I am ready to accept all the love I expect to receive.

What does Hegseth mean?

Let us take a quick peek into the shallow mind of Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth, the nimrod who keeps telling us that Iran has been dealt a blow that renders its armed forces “combat ineffective.”

Recall that Donald Trump recruited Hegseth off the Fox and Friends Weekend couch to lead the Pentagon. Hegseth has zero qualifications to serve as defense secretary. Except for one thing. He is blindly loyal to Trump.

Accordingly, when Trump declares complete victory over Iran in this idiotic war of choice, Hegseth follows the liar in chief straight into the crapper. He bought Trump’s desire to refer to the Pentagon chief as the “war secretary,” and calls his department the “Department of War.” What a bunch of crap!

So, when Hegseth keeps repeating the lie about Iran being rendered defenseless against our bombs and missiles, I am left to wonder: How in the hell do the Iranians keep firing missiles at targets in the Strait of Hormuz? We were told the U.S. and Israeli airstrikes “obliterated” Iran’s military. Isn’t that the case?

While we keep bombing Iran, and they keep firing back at us, the price of oil continues to skyrocket, forcing huge inflationary pressure on the price of gasoline and diesel fuel. Hegseth is silent about all of that, as is the dipshit in chief.

As a veteran who has served in a war zone for my country, I consider Pete Hegseth to be unworthy of any form of respect his office should demand. He is a disgrace.

If only Trump could see what others see

I am writing this blog post in the wee hours, so I’ll be brief with what I want to get off my chest.

We all have come to accept that Donald J. Trump is an extreme narcissist. He sees himself only in one light, that of self-indulgence and self-aggrandizement. After all, he spent his entire adult life aiming to improve his financial wealth.

If only this clown could see himself as others see him. He heaps praise on himself and expects whoever is listening to it to accept it as the truth. Damn! It isn’t!

Every one of his business ventures has ended in failure. The university. The steaks. The booze. The gambling casinos, for God’s sake!

Now that he’s president, he is enacting policies that make him look like a dimwit. The world is laughing its ass off at the POTUS. He doesn’t hear the laughter. He doesn’t take any of the ctiticism seriously.

Dude is now 80 years old. He clearly is on the way out. I just don’t want this guy to inflict any mortal damage to the government he seeks to control.

Do our eyes now turn to Barron?

Barron Trump remains the mystery member of the nation’s premier political family.

I am more than willing to admit that the young man has stirred my curiosity more than just a little bit.

I mention Barron because he now is an adult. He is past the age of majority, which in some circles makes him an open target for all kinds of rhetorical mischief. I will not go there.

I do intend to express some interest in the kind of man he has become, living as he has in the crucible known as the White House.

Barron Trump, born in March 2006, now towers over almost everyone he sees. His father stands 6 foot 3, and Barron appears to be around, oh 6 foot 9 or 10.

Soon enough, probably when Dad leaves office in January 2029, we’ll get to see more of the youngest of Donald’s five kids. Don Jr., Eric and Ivanka all have made their marks on some fashion or another. A second daughter, Tiffany, has obtained her law degree and has remained out of the limelight.

Now we have Barron.

Here’s my hope for the young man. I hope he has learned from the plastering his brothers have gotten because they chose to become political animals, just like Dad. My hope for Barron Trump is that somehow, someway and through some channel that escapes me, he is able to carve out something akin to a normal life.

I suppose there’s always hope that the young man can stumble into a relationship that gives him complete happiness. I realize that’s a difficult order to fill, being the member of a family led by a fraud, a con man, a charlatan … and a loser!

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