As I’ve mentioned before, I’m basically an “old school” guy in my thoughts and deeds. Consequently, I possess some attributes and qualities that might be frowned upon by those of our more youthful (undeveloped, unripe) citizens. Among those traits are patriotism (I spent 22 months in Vietnam), objectivity, open mindedness and a keen sense of right and wrong.
Also, fortunately I’ve acquired the ability to distinguish between a truly worthy, civilized, compassionate humanitarian to admire and look up to and the puffed up, brain-dead media creations glorified on television through ever-increasing classless, soulless reality shows.
Here’s the problem.
In days gone by, not that long ago, our society respected and revered those who earned and justly deserved our praise and admiration. Regrettably, nowadays pseudo celebrity brats are admired more than humble champions who, day after day, unselfishly strive to make our country and the world a better place.
The eye-opening incident that crystallized my feelings on this subject occurred on Independence Day. I was attending the annual Fourth of July Parade (one of the largest and finest in the U.S.) in Surf City, Huntington Beach. For me, one of the more appealing aspects of this eclectic spectacle is the patriotism displayed by the participants. Uniformed WWII survivors proudly wave to the enthusiastic onlookers.
Veterans from all wars representing the various branches of the military march past, smiling and shaking hands with cheering spectators. It is truly a spiritual and inspirational display to behold.
About halfway through the procession appeared a car with two “stars” from the reality TV show Storage Wars. I must admit I’ve never seen the show, however I am familiar with the premise. As the antique Ford slowly motored past, many of the frenzied crowd became semi-hysterical. From their reaction, as the classic car approached my position, I thought it must be Justin Bieber, George Clooney, Madonna or the reincarnation of Elvis himself. Giddy fans of all ages rushed the street and surrounded the vehicle, bringing the pageant to a standstill.
The surprised duo stepped from the car to have their picture taken and high-five the burgeoning horde. Unbelievably, they proved to be the only participants in the two-hour extravaganza that actually halted the procession due to overzealous, embarrassing fan interference.
I do understand the lure of celebrity and many people’s obsession with these often shallow narcissists, but come on! A 92-year-old Pearl Harbor survivor rides by in his original WWII uniform waving and proudly saluting the politely applauding crowd. Two minutes later two goofs who bid on sealed boxes from storage units cruise past and a mob of oblivious wackos descend on the duo like flies to a cow pie.
Collectively the parents and teachers of these lemmings should be flogged in the town square. This humble, proud true hero was blown off a battleship in the Japanese attack that catapulted us into World War II, where hundreds of thousands died throughout the world and Heckle and Jeckle open crates with crowbars for a living.
Please be honest with me, am I having hallucinations? Hey, container-groupie, did your parents ever mention the second world war at the dinner table while you were whining about having to finish your peas? Did a dedicated teacher in high school point out the number of Americans slaughtered during the D-Day invasion on the beaches of Normandy? Have you ever read a book without the name Harry Potter in it?
Give me a second, I’m hyperventilating. Ah, what the Hell. I suppose I need to lighten up and boldly face the decline of civilization. Sadly, you were correct Mr. Dylan—“I better start swimmin’ or I’ll sink like a stone, for the times they are a changin’!”