Tacos, Not War: Veterans Day Musings

My mom called me yesterday after listening to the radio where they urged all their listeners to call a veteran and thank them for their services. LOL. I thought it was touching and sweet of her and told her I appreciated it, even though there are and were a lot of veterans who sacrificed more than I ever did. I was in the U.S. Navy from 1988-1992. I did spend 6 months of that time in the Persian Gulf, home-ported in Bahrain on the USS Lasalle, during Desert Storm, and I do technically qualify as a "war veteran," but man, I was never in fear of my life once. I just sat on a ship in front of this computer watching radar blips on the screen. And I served as the secretary for some crusty, gruff old commander, typing out messages for him all the time. I smoked alot of cigarettes, drank coffee and beer; masturbated in my bunk at night; cleaned bathrooms and watched Phillipino bands sing bad American pop songs in hotel lounges. It was boring most the time and, with the exception of the handful of times I got to have sex with prostitutes at my ships' various port calls, I fucking hated my time in the military.

I was a troubled 17-year old kid who did too many drugs in high school. I did barely graduate high school but my parents didn't have a whole lot of money and felt it was a bad investment at the time to pay for my college, and they were right--I wouldn't have lasted a semester. So I didn't really have much choice but to join the Navy or some other branch of the military, like a lot of guys in my family did.

I barely even had to handle a gun. I didn't even come close to doing what a lot of the ground troops go through in the Army and Marines in places like Iraq and Afghanistan. That stuff is terrifying and intense and, though I find the motivation behind America's wars questionable in that they are painfully obvious campaigns to benefit banks, corporations and war profiteers, I do respect anyone who goes through that type of human experience. I'm proud of the fact that, though it was four of the most miserable years of my life, I did make it through my entire 4-year contract. I lived up to my word and got an honorable discharge. But I am not even close to being in the category of those who engaged in actual combat, and it's important for me to make that distinction. Though I do appreciate the fact that I can justifiably say, "I served and you didn't you fucking hippy!" there are so many jerk-offs out there who lie, embellish or exaggerate their military service to garner some sort of respect or benefits that they don't deserve. I spent my GI Bill benefits long ago and don't feel anyone owes me a damn thing anymore.

Thanks, Mom. I do love you and it was genuinely sweet of you, but thanks are best served for the guy in the wheel-chair, the guy sitting in a hospital bed with his legs blown off or the thousands of poor soldiers rotting in the ground because of the greed of oil companies and other corporate avarice.