The outpouring of support on Memorial Day is so good to see. From Brandywine to Bagram, Americans have fought, bled and died for liberty and universal human rights.
It would have been in supremely poor taste to ponder this aloud on their day, but if you genuinely wish to memorialize them, it's worth asking yourself this:
Where is the outrage for their sacrifices being so callously disregarded?
That's what I thought as I grabbed my license to drive, got in my registered vehicle and drove the speed limit to a nearby convenience store. I was on streetlight video cameras the whole way. I bought some bait and was charged a tax, despite already paying a tax on the money I earned to buy it. My wife, who the state licensed me to marry, texted me to also pick up some milk (because the state said we're not allowed to purchase it directly from the farmer near our house).
This private correspondence was read by an NSA analyst and the content stored in our bulk files at some innocuous-looking data center. But it's not really an issue -- if you're not doing anything wrong, why does it even matter?
I didn't have my line in the water for five minutes when an officer of the law asked to see my license to catch fish. Per protocol, I immediately informed him that the state also licensed my universal, unalienable human right to self-defense. He then checked my line and backpack for any non-compliant tackle. Our exchange didn't last more than thirty seconds, and once my papers were deemed to be in order, I was permitted to resume casting.
I barely got a nibble, but as the old saying goes, a bad day fishing is better than a good day working. Speaking of which, I was due to fly out on business in the morning. Traveling gets old, but one of the best things about my job are the benefits. Granted, my insurance coverage has diminished and the price is markedly higher now, but this is why I started working at 15 years old, joined the military, served my country, learned a skill, got a job, went back to night school, finished my degree and got promoted. Health, dental and vision insurance don't just grow on trees for free! Besides, who feels like paying a fine to the state for not having insurance?
Later that night I got some extra blankets out of the closet and tossed them on our bed. We'd usually have the wood stove burning this time of year, but the state said we can't use it anymore. It's not a big deal, and I don't really miss having to chop firewood several times a week. Talk about job-lock!
The next morning, I dropped my kids off at school on the way to the airport. My youngest son totally forgot about the "safe environment" rule about attire, so I had him change out of his American flag t-shirt before heading out. Today was their mandatory standardized tests, so I wished them luck and continued on to the airport.
The queue actually moved pretty fast this time. I think people are finally starting to get the hang of things! I took off my belt, removed my shoes, emptied my pockets and placed it all on the conveyor belt. Then I stepped into the body scanner, raised my hands in the air and was motioned to proceed. The TSA agent then indicated that I'd been randomly selected for further review. He ran his hands across my groin and backside, down my inner-thighs and around the small of my back. You gotta hand it to them -- even though they miss 95% of weaponry on these screenings, they are very thorough and I'm glad they're keeping us so safe.
When I landed, I retrieved my luggage and stopped at the food court. The usual recording about suspicious-looking people came across the PA as I scanned the various offerings. Mexican? Southern BBQ? I finally settled on some Asian noodles, but when I went to pay, my credit cards and cash were not in my wallet. Even my license was missing, and for the life of me I couldn't recall how I'd misplaced them.
Without any form of ID or ability to purchase anything, what was I to do? I'll admit it, I kind of freaked out for a bit, rummaging through every pocket and exterior compartment of my bags. An officer apparently observed this and approached me. I explained my situation and she thankfully asked me to accompany her to a room behind the car rental kiosk.
She explained that some people found my behavior a bit odd, so she'd have to ask me some questions and look through my things. No biggie, just the usual stuff. When she opened my laptop, asked for my password and viewed the desktop, however, her demeanor became a little icy. I have a Bible verse on it, you see, and apparently it has the potential to make others feel unsafe. I apologized profusely and felt really embarrassed. I just happen to think that life is sacred, you know? That seemed to make her even angrier, and my explaining that I was just speaking from the heart only made it worse. All I could think was that it's a good thing I didn't pack my pistol in the suitcase -- can you just imagine how much more trouble I'd be in?!
I'm now writing this from my holding cell. I should be out in a few days, probably, and in the meantime I'm anxious to hear what the charges are. I asked them for my Bible, but the guy in charge said it was contraband, at least for now. All I can do is wait and ponder, safe in this tiny room and grateful for all those Americans who died in defense of our freedom!
It would have been in supremely poor taste to ponder this aloud on their day, but if you genuinely wish to memorialize them, it's worth asking yourself this:
Where is the outrage for their sacrifices being so callously disregarded?
That's what I thought as I grabbed my license to drive, got in my registered vehicle and drove the speed limit to a nearby convenience store. I was on streetlight video cameras the whole way. I bought some bait and was charged a tax, despite already paying a tax on the money I earned to buy it. My wife, who the state licensed me to marry, texted me to also pick up some milk (because the state said we're not allowed to purchase it directly from the farmer near our house).
This private correspondence was read by an NSA analyst and the content stored in our bulk files at some innocuous-looking data center. But it's not really an issue -- if you're not doing anything wrong, why does it even matter?
I didn't have my line in the water for five minutes when an officer of the law asked to see my license to catch fish. Per protocol, I immediately informed him that the state also licensed my universal, unalienable human right to self-defense. He then checked my line and backpack for any non-compliant tackle. Our exchange didn't last more than thirty seconds, and once my papers were deemed to be in order, I was permitted to resume casting.
I barely got a nibble, but as the old saying goes, a bad day fishing is better than a good day working. Speaking of which, I was due to fly out on business in the morning. Traveling gets old, but one of the best things about my job are the benefits. Granted, my insurance coverage has diminished and the price is markedly higher now, but this is why I started working at 15 years old, joined the military, served my country, learned a skill, got a job, went back to night school, finished my degree and got promoted. Health, dental and vision insurance don't just grow on trees for free! Besides, who feels like paying a fine to the state for not having insurance?
Later that night I got some extra blankets out of the closet and tossed them on our bed. We'd usually have the wood stove burning this time of year, but the state said we can't use it anymore. It's not a big deal, and I don't really miss having to chop firewood several times a week. Talk about job-lock!
The next morning, I dropped my kids off at school on the way to the airport. My youngest son totally forgot about the "safe environment" rule about attire, so I had him change out of his American flag t-shirt before heading out. Today was their mandatory standardized tests, so I wished them luck and continued on to the airport.
The queue actually moved pretty fast this time. I think people are finally starting to get the hang of things! I took off my belt, removed my shoes, emptied my pockets and placed it all on the conveyor belt. Then I stepped into the body scanner, raised my hands in the air and was motioned to proceed. The TSA agent then indicated that I'd been randomly selected for further review. He ran his hands across my groin and backside, down my inner-thighs and around the small of my back. You gotta hand it to them -- even though they miss 95% of weaponry on these screenings, they are very thorough and I'm glad they're keeping us so safe.
When I landed, I retrieved my luggage and stopped at the food court. The usual recording about suspicious-looking people came across the PA as I scanned the various offerings. Mexican? Southern BBQ? I finally settled on some Asian noodles, but when I went to pay, my credit cards and cash were not in my wallet. Even my license was missing, and for the life of me I couldn't recall how I'd misplaced them.
Without any form of ID or ability to purchase anything, what was I to do? I'll admit it, I kind of freaked out for a bit, rummaging through every pocket and exterior compartment of my bags. An officer apparently observed this and approached me. I explained my situation and she thankfully asked me to accompany her to a room behind the car rental kiosk.
She explained that some people found my behavior a bit odd, so she'd have to ask me some questions and look through my things. No biggie, just the usual stuff. When she opened my laptop, asked for my password and viewed the desktop, however, her demeanor became a little icy. I have a Bible verse on it, you see, and apparently it has the potential to make others feel unsafe. I apologized profusely and felt really embarrassed. I just happen to think that life is sacred, you know? That seemed to make her even angrier, and my explaining that I was just speaking from the heart only made it worse. All I could think was that it's a good thing I didn't pack my pistol in the suitcase -- can you just imagine how much more trouble I'd be in?!
I'm now writing this from my holding cell. I should be out in a few days, probably, and in the meantime I'm anxious to hear what the charges are. I asked them for my Bible, but the guy in charge said it was contraband, at least for now. All I can do is wait and ponder, safe in this tiny room and grateful for all those Americans who died in defense of our freedom!
No comments:
Post a Comment