Call Me Combative

Hope you had a great weekend.  Mine was.....weird.

We had a great Veteran's breakfast Friday morning.  Let me tell you, the gym of our little country school was packed with local veterans.  There was singing, feasting and my little man's Cub Scout pack acted as the Honor Guard and presented the Colors.  Which still brings a lump to my throat.

After we left the breakfast, the Mr. and I went to a local grand opening of a small sporting goods shop.  Nice place.  That morning, the place was full of Veterans, most of them elderly and in still in their uniforms, having just left local ceremonies.  When we went to check out, the gal gave us our total and I stopped her and asked if she neglected to give Jeff his veteran's discount.

"I don't think we do that," she said.

Thud.

"You're telling me that you opened on Veteran's Day, the place is crawling with old men who served and you don't give them a discount?  Manager, please." 

I don't know what they did after we left, but while I stood there, they gave discounts. 

So later that night, we went out to eat.  I won't disclose where...but let's just say it's a nationwide chain.  When I asked the waitress about their Veteran's Day promotion, she was a little embarrassed.

"If you buy a pancake, we donate a dime to the VFW to help returning active-duty soldiers and their families."

"Great. And for your veterans?" I asked.

She blushed.  They used to offer free desserts, but corporate discontinued that promotion.

So for the 90-year-old man sitting at the counter in his USS Arizona hat, having fought his way through the Pacific islands and survived: nothing.

For my "old guy", who spent 10 years as a combat medic, jumping out of Chinooks and C-130's: nothing.

And you know, it's not the pie LOL.  It's the lack of recognition that burns me up.  That old man saw conflict like we can NEVER imagine and he doesn't get so much as a nod from this restaurant;  a restaurant, mind you,  that claims we're all one big happy country family.  Needless to say, I've been burning up the wires between here and said 'corporate'.  Call me combative if you want, but I want them to tremble in anticipation each morning as they open their email, dreading seeing my name in their in-box.

Okay.  Coming down from my soapbox now.

Now, for your viewing pleasure, some sweet photos from the 2011 Veteran's Day Breakfast.



Isaac, Daddy, Mara and Mama.




My "old guy" and my little guy.
"Are we done with the taking of the pictures?"



Isaac's troop getting ready to present the Colors.

An unexpected visitor! 
My neighbor/cousin 'S' home from fighter pilot training.

"I Fought For You"

Don't forget what this holiday is for. 

It's not for golfing. 

Or shopping at the Mega-mall. 

It's for remembrance.

They fought for us.

And they'd do it again.

Show them you love them with deeds, not words.

Dedicated to the Mr, my All-American 82nd, whom I'll love til my dying breath.  
To my uncles who fought in the Pacific theater.
To my great grandfather who thought the Germans weren't nearly as scary as his dad and enlisted at 16. 
To my "other Papaw" who gave all in Korea.
To my dad.

For Daddy

I was watching Veterans Day youtube videos early this morning when Isaac came toddling down the stairs, still half asleep.


"Watcha doin, Mama?"

"Watching Army videos" I said.

... He watched for a minute and then said:

"You know, Daddy was in the Army. Did he do stuff like that?"

"Yep," says I. "Daddy jumped out of airplanes to help people."

"Good airplanes?" he asked. " Not ones that were crashing?"

"Just the good ones," I replied.

Isaac was quiet, just for a second and then said:

"Daddy's awesome, you know."


I know.