My Heart on the Line

The below is something I think all Americans should read.

My Heart on the Line...


It has been said that only those that have bled for their country appreciate the real taste of freedom. I would include, those who sent a son or daughter off to war. Roy Hill

My Heart on the Line


By Frank Schaeffer: The Washington Post

Before my son became a Marine, I never thought much about who was defending me. Now when I read of the war on terrorism or the coming conflict in Iraq , it cuts to my heart. When I see a picture of a member of our military who has been killed, I read his or her name very carefully. Sometimes I cry.

In 1999, when the barrel-chested Marine recruiter showed up in dress blues and bedazzled my son John, I did not stand in the way. John was headstrong, and he seemed to understand these stern, clean men with straight backs and flawless uniforms. I did not. I live in the Volvo-driving, higher education- worshiping North Shore of Boston. I write novels for a living. I have never served in the military.

It had been hard enough sending my two older children off to Georgetown and New York University . John's enlisting was unexpected, so deeply unsettling. I did not relish the prospect of answering the question, "So where is John going to college?" from the parents who were itching to tell me all about how their son or daughter was going to Harvard. At the private high school John attended, no other students were going into the military.

"But aren't the Marines terribly Southern?" asked one perplexed mother while standing next to me at the brunch following graduation. "What a waste, he was such a good student," said another parent. One parent (a professor at a nearby and rather famous university) spoke up at a school meeting and suggested that the school should "carefully evaluate what went wrong."

When John graduated from three months of boot camp on Parris Island, 3,000 parents and friends were on the parade deck stands. We parents and our Marines not only were of many races but also were representative of many economic classes. Many were poor. Some arrived crammed in the backs of pickups, others by bus. John told me that a lot of parents could not afford the trip.

We in the audience were white and Native American. We were Hispanic, Arab and African American and Asian. We were former Marines wearing the scars of battle, or at least baseball caps emblazoned with battles' names. We were Southern whites from Nashville and skinheads from New Jersey, black kids from Cleveland wearing ghetto rags and white ex-cons with ham-hock forearms defaced by jailhouse tattoos. We would not have been mistaken for the educated and well-heeled parents gathered on the lawns of John's private school a half-year before.

After graduation one new Marine told John, "Before I was a Marine, if I had ever seen you on my block I would've probably killed you just because you were standing there." This was a serious statement from one of John's good friends, an African American ex-gang member from Detroit who, as John said, "would die for me now, just like I'd die for him."

My son has connected me to my country in a way that I was too selfish and insular to experience before. I feel closer to the waitress at our local diner than to some of my oldest friends. She has two sons in the Corps. They are facing the same dangers as my boy. When the guy who fixes my car asks me how John is doing, I know he means it. His younger brother is in the Navy.

Why were I and the other parents at my son's private school so surprised by his choice? During World War II, the sons and daughters of the most powerful and educated families did their bit. If the idea of the immorality of the Vietnam War was the only reason those lucky enough to go to college dodged the draft, why did we not encourage our children to volunteer for military service once that war was done?

Have we wealthy and educated Americans all become pacifists? Is the world a safe place? Or have we just gotten used to having somebody else defend us? What is the future of our democracy when the sons and daughters of the janitors at our elite universities are far more likely to be put in harm's way than are any of the students whose dorms their parents clean?

I feel shame because it took my son's joining the Marine Corps to make me take notice of who is defending me. I feel hope because perhaps my son is part of a future "greatest generation." As the storm clouds of war gather, at least I know that I can look the men and women in uniform in the eye. My son is one of them. He is the best I have to offer. He is my heart.

Where's BH - Volume 4

Hello Dear Readers,

Greetings to some newbies to the list. Apologies it has been so long since my last update. Things have been busy here and I didn't want to be bombarding you with emails. I will do my best to fill you in on all that's been occurring without overloading your inboxes. Speaking of, I am currently trying to figure out the best photo upload site to post pictures so you can all just go there and look at them and I don't send them through email. If anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.

This last Friday was the official 2 month mark for my time here in NZ. Some days it seems so much longer and other days it's hard to believe so much time has passed. People say that there is a "3 month freakout" that most folks go through - you either push through or head back home. So far I don't have any of that. It seems odd to think it would even happen. I miss my friends and family, but know this is exactly where I should be right now, though I don't know the reason. I'm trying to take the advice of a new friend and not focus so much on the why that I miss doors opening all around me.

Everyone back in SF is getting ready for Burning Man right now (some are already on playa). It's strange to not be going this year - to not be looking forward to a week in the desert filled with laughter, wonder, silliness, sleep deprivation due to laughing the night away and watching the sunrise, and returning home with my cheeks aching from so much smiling and laughing.

Life here is moving right along. I'm continuing to meet people which is always nice. Hopefully my ratio of gay to straight will start to switch. Seems the majority of men I'm meeting these days are gay. They have all been sweet as pie and are good for a laugh. Started rock climbing again which has been great. I was pleasantly surprised that I was able to complete a wall just one level down from where I had left off climbing in December. Also found lindy hop (swing dance) lessons out here. Went to my first one last week. There's a big lindy ball at the end of the month that I will be attending. Should be good to get back into it, though I skipped last night because I am just drained and figured I needed the sleep.

Two weekends ago was large. Friday night a guy I had met at a party a few weeks before (one of the few straight ones I've met) came over to sample my single malt collection. It was nice to just hang out. We watched the opening ceremonies of the Olympics which started at 12:08am for us. By the time we watched the US and NZ walk in, it was something ridiculous like 3:30am. I finally got to sleep around 4:15am. Had a busy day and didn't get a Nana nap before my company ball that night. It was at the St. James Theatre which is a rather posh venue and literally right around the corner from my house. Can you say convenient? The theme was Opening Night so you were to come dressed as a character on the opening night of their production or as a member of the audience. After much hemming and hawing about what would be appropriate to wear in front of colleagues, I ended up cheating a bit and just did my hair in a vintage style, put on a cute dress that can pass as vintage, my black and white saddle shoes and pretended to be an extra from Grease. It was a good night and nice to see everyone let loose. It did get a bit sloppy toward the end - honestly, who plans a 6 hour open bar and thinks it's a good thing??? Better question, who goes out after 6 hours of an open bar? Yes, that would be me. We ended up being out until around 5am. I texted one of the kids who works with me on Sunday to see if he and his gf wanted to do brunch. He responded, "Can't move. Too hung." I wrote back, "Amateur" as I was feeling fine, other than being tired. :-) Ended up doing brunch with friends and then walked down to Oriental Bay and spent the afternoon on the beach in the sunshine. Was even warm enough that I was just in jeans a tshirt for part of it. This past weekend was tame. Met some friends for a chat at Fidel's cafe on Cuba St which is a Friday tradition. Went home, watched the Olympics and fell asleep on the couch at 10pm. Woke up at midnight and went to bed. Saturday did a bunch of unpacking and a store run for final hangers, under the bed storage, etc. That night finally tore myself away from the Olympics and went to a friend's birthday party. The theme was to come dressed as a culture that is not your own. I wore my sari from Ganesh's wedding. It was a pretty tame evening, but got to chat with some folks I hadn't really had a chance to before. When I came back and walked past my local, the All Blacks vs South Africa match (in SA) was still on, so stopped in to watch the end. Another late evening, but fun. And for those of you keeping track - I've been on the wagon for a couple weeks and only eating meat once a day to try and flush the organs. In other words, late nights do not equal drinking for this kid. Sunday was spent doing more stuff around the house. I then went to Ross and Steve's new house in Kilburny for afternoon tea. They are hilarious and it was fun to get to know them a bit more. That night I had a massage which was heavenly.

Special congratulations to my 3 year old niece, Isabella, who has sent me my second real piece of mail. It was the best letter I have ever received! I love it! Just looking at the envelope addressed to "Auntie Anna" makes me happy!

Last week my flatmate was away in the South Island skiing. While I adore him, it was nice to have the place to myself for a week. Actually, I just learned tonight that he is looking to move back to Brisbane at the end of October. That means I have two choices - stay here and try and find another flatmate or look for another place to live. We shall see what happens. It's disappointing because we get along so well, but he needs to do what is best for him.

Some funny stories: One afternoon as I was getting coff-ay (for the Odd Todd fans out there), I received a text message saying, "I love you." It was from a New Zealand mobile number I didn't know. After joking with the guy making my flat white, I wrote back, "Thanks. I love me too. Who is this?" Turns out a couple colleagues were in the same coff-ay shop and flagged me over. I asked if they had texted me and they had not. Then my mobile rings and it's from the number that had texted me. I answered and he said, "Do you work for EY?" When I said yes he replied, "You have my wife's old number." Apparently he was sitting on the plane and sent her a text. As soon as he sent it, he realised that's not her number anymore. We were both laughing and joking and I told him I was sorely disappointed as I thought he might be the man of my dreams. He replied, "Well, I am, but unfortunately for you I'm taken." I replied, "Well then, you aren't the man of my dreams." We both laughed some more and then he said, "I'm glad I could put a smile on your face." I told him to have a good day and to text his real wife. Hilarious!

But wait, it gets better. Today I got two texts along the lines of "Hey Gorgeous, blah blah blah, how's the belly treating you? Boy or girl? Wait, don't tell me. Been working on names. So excited you're going to have a wee one. Holidays in Germany are great, blah blah blah." I texted back and told them I think they have the wrong number as I'm not preggers because that requires certain things to be happening that aren't. I then texted the guy from above and asked if his wife was preggers. He rang me trying to figure out who I was. When I explained he started cracking up and asked what number the text had come from. He didn't know the number. I asked if he wanted me to forward the messages on to somewhere. I passed them on to him and he was cracking up, apologising for me receiving them. I told him it provides some good entertainment during my days. :-)

I'm currently facing a decision difficulty. I'm heading to Sydney Oct 9-10 for training. Was going to stay the weekend. I'm also looking to sign up for a sailing course here in Wellington. It's 4 consecutive Saturdays and one of those is, you guessed it, the 11th of October. I can miss one class though it isn't ideal. So, on one hand it seems crazy to go to Sydney and not stay the weekend. On the other hand, it seems crazy to sign up for a course and miss 1 of the 4. The problem if I wait for another course is that it won't be for a month after this one ends which puts me into November and means I miss the spring racing season. Yes, I know I know, what a rough life I lead when I have to make this kind of decision.

Next on the agenda is doing some weekend day trips. I haven't explored enough of the area around here yet and need to fix that. Especially because I have a car with work at the moment. Need to take advantage! It's just nice to do it with a copilot to help navigate. :-)

It was great earlier this week to have a call from my brother and my cousins. They had done a family reunion and it was great to talk to everyone. It's hard to be in the cold when they are talking about how much fun they are having boating and enjoying the summer. Next year I'll be there for sure if we can combine it with Burning Man.

Got invited to go deep sea fishing with colleagues in September. I totally signed up for it and can't wait! Should be good.

Let's see, other random NZ observations:
1. Hilarious expression: "Sweet as!" Note that's only one s. Sweet as what? It kills me every time - there's no predicate to the sentence. It also is used in things like "Hungry as" and the like.
2. "How you going?" - means the same as How you doing? How is everything? How's it going?
3. Nothing in the grocery stores is the same. I have no idea of what to buy and feel like an idiot trying to find the simple things. I'm a product of my environment and when sugar isn't packaged in a pink cardboard box, I don't know how to find it. Okay, it's not quite that bad, but you get the idea.
4. When the sun shines, this town is gorgeous!
5. When you meet someone for the first time, hit it off and want to hang out with them again, you rarely trade information. They tend to wait until they've met you a second or third time. Granted, it's a small town and odds are you will see them again.
6. Cadbury chocolate is very different down here. Far better!
7. NZ TV sucks. Now, granted, it's not a bad thing as I get out of hte house far more often. However, it'd be nice when you want to watch it to have something good to watch.
8. It's been interesting watching the Olympics in a different country. As you expect, they focus primarily on NZ athletes so a lot of events I would usually watch aren't shown.

Ok, think this got far longer than I expected. As you can see, life is moving right along. I do love hearing from everyone so please keep writing.

I miss you all!

This update was brought to you by the letter A and the number 4.

Text Message Hilarity

This afternoon as I was getting coff-ay (for the Odd Todd fans out there), I received a text message saying, "I love you." It was from a New Zealand mobile number I didn't know. After joking with the guy making my flat white, I wrote back, "Thanks. I love me too. Who is this?"

Turns out a couple colleagues were in the same coff-ay shop and flagged me over. I asked if they had texted me and they had not. Then my mobile rings and it's from the number that had texted me. I answered and he said, "Do you work for EY?" When I said yes he replied, "You have my wife's old number." Apparently he was sitting on the plane and sent her a text. As soon as he sent it, he realised that's not her number anymore. We were both laughing and joking and I told him I was sorely disappointed as I thought he might be the man of my dreams. He replied, "Well, I am, but unfortunately for you I'm taken." I replied, "Well then, you aren't the man of my dreams." We both laughed some more and then he said, "I'm glad I could put a smile on your face." I told him to have a good day and to text his real wife.

Hilarious!

This moment of text message entertainment was brought to you by the letter T and the number 2.