And then I wrote...

by Dick Schilling, "Editor Emeritus"

... that I have been preaching that as one ages, habit is a good thing. For example, taking prescription drugs at the same time every day. In my case, that also means doing a load of laundry every Sunday, something started when that was usually my only entire day off from work.

And since Monday is the day for trash collection in my section of the city, I have made a habit of setting out the containers every Sunday afternoon.

Along about sundown Sunday, it dawned on me that Monday was the Memorial Day holiday, so the trash collectors would not be coming. But I was not going to go back out and collect the stuff, so it stayed out. And the neighbors probably concluded that the old boy has finally lost it!

Memorial Day was always a work day for me. Many years it started by attending and taking pictures at the outdoor mass at the Catholic cemetery in the early morning, then covering the parade and ceremony at the other cemetery. The day was pretty much similar from year to year. For several years, until Obama grounded them, the flyover by National Guard jets was a personal highlight.

I have great respect for those who spent some time in military service, whether they enlisted or were conscripted involuntarily.

There was a full page story in Sunday’s Cedar Rapids Gazette about the ill-fated Indian Isle operation off McGregor. I was only there once, but I remember.

I have mentioned here before that my best friends at university were both veterans of four years as enlisted personnel, one Navy and one Air Force. Each had enjoyed his time very much, the Navy vet spending most of it at Pearl Harbor, and the other in Alaska. Each advanced in rank at the max speed.

When they learned in July after we had gotten our degrees that I had been accepted by the Navy’s officer candidate program, they were both preparing to leave for Washington, D.C., where they would start careers in government service. They asked to come up to see me, so the guy from Cedar Rapids picked up the guy from West Union, and they came to Waukon to “advise” me about military service. We did not want to hang around my home within earshot of parents, so decided to take the ferry to Indian Isle. We bought a cold six pack and walked a ways to water’s edge, and talked.

I think the gist of their advice was, you will be an officer, but don’t be an ass!

Speaking of Obama, I was glad to hear that he did not exactly say “gomen nasai” (I’m sorry) to Japan on his trip there to the site of the atomic bombing that ended World War II.
The few Japanese to whom I talked about that seemed to feel that all is fair in war, and that more Japanese lives were saved than American lives by that action.