Happy 4th of July everyone!  In 9th grade one of my favorite teachers (and one who I give a lot of credit to for my love of political science and history) read us this poem by Langston Hughes and said the first time she heard it was, interestingly enough, at a 4th of July celebration.  I've reread this poem ever so often since then...I must admit I find I've been reading it more during the last 8 years as pseudo-patriots and jingoistic-religious tripe have pervaded our national dialogue and somehow managed to tamp down what real sense of community and sense of idealism that we, as Americans, seem to be born with.  It also speaks to the inevitability of being doomed to repeat history if we don't learn from it.  When, oh when, will we learn from it?  I'm hoping this next presidential election will usher in the winds of change that so many of us have been longing and striving for...please, let America be America again!

Let America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free.

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death, The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies, We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain-- All, all the stretch of these great green states-- And make America again!

For those of you not lucky enough to have a subscription to The Nation, here is political cartoonist Ward Sutton's take on the "fist bump."

Love it!!!

Did anyone catch the article earlier in the week about Blackwater getting raided?  Federal agents were there as, "part of an investigation into whether the private security company sidestepped federal laws prohibiting the private purchase of automatic assault rifles."

No, surely not Blackwater.  Surely the 22 automatic weapons, including 17 AK47's, are desperately needed for an "emergency" in a county of 9,272 citizens.  You know how riled up us Southerns get during football season, right?  But, it was all above board, according to Blackwater spokesmen, who said that the Camden County Sheriff's Office was the official owner of said weapons (which Blackwater financed the purchase of) and had full access to them even though they were kept in Blackwater's armory.  The best part, the part that largely escapes mention in most articles covering this topic...if they sheriff's office needed these AK47's so badly wouldn't you think they would have trained their deputies with them?  Yeah, me too.  Thing is - not one of the 19 Camden County deputies are qualified to use them.

Now, I'm not a fan of over-privatization of historically governmental functions like intelligence (did you know that 70% of the yearly intelligence budget is spent on private contractors?!?!  It is no surprise that Blackwater is also branching out into the intelligence business either...and yes, I did say business) and defense anyway.  I truly believe some things are just inherently governmental in nature and to cede their production or service delivery to a private third-party company is to chip away at bit at our founding democratic principles.  In order to uphold the democratic values that its authority is based upon, the government has to be transparent in its foreign and domestic policies. Utilizing third-party sources for defense, military, and intelligence is legitimate only as much as it is allowed by the citizenry. And this, only if there is true, authentic information-sharing taking place so the citizenry truly knows what its government is doing with public funds in pursuit of some collective interest.

It has been awhile I know.  My husband took leave and came home to visit.  If you have been following the situation, the GW is going to be in San Diego for *just* a little bit longer.

It wasn’t the best homecoming though – I drove, at midnight!, to pick him up in Newport News.  Too bad he flew into NORFOLK!!!  Yeah, communication glitch that definitely put a chill on the passionate embrace I had been picturing.  We can never seem to get it right like they do in the movies.

Then, of course, is the “re-entry period” that always follows a homecoming (even for 2 ½ short months) where he wanted to change/challenge everything I have done in his absence and I wanted to kick him in the face for it. 

So far, he’s complained about how long I’ve let Thing 1’s hair get, where I set the thermostat (I finally figured out how to change it and we are all much cooler now), how the kid who does our lawn is doing our lawn, and the fact that I haven’t started his car once since he’s been gone (ok, that one I did feel bad about).  He’s also challenged my way of balancing the checkbook (I round up to the next dollar to keep zero’s in the total.  Hello!  That works out to be a nice cushion of extra money!), loading the dishwasher (he did that when he was home – no biggie), and the biggest offense yet – the way I requested his phone be put on inactive status for the duration of his deployment.  You see, since they will be in San Diego for at least another month or so he wants to reactivate it and I don’t want to do that.  I would rather him use one of those pay as you go phones – his brother has one to let him borrow – and just buy the minutes.  He doesn’t want to do that – he wants to call the phone company, start his phone up again for however long they are here, then turn it off when they leave.  The problem is, of course, all the red tape you have to deal with with the phone company.  I’ll spare you the details but the fact he is so set on challenging my plan for borrowing his brother’s phone is infuriating to me…probably because it came so close on the heels of the “haircut discussion” that never really ends but merely recedes in the background for a later date.

I know what is going on though, I’m resentful at his questioning decisions I’ve made in his absence and he’s trying to reinstate his position as head of the household.  Instead of being thankful and appreciative of how I’ve handled our family affairs, I feel like I’m being graded and found lacking.  Plus, it doesn’t help my ego that the kidlets dropped me like a bad habit for daddy.  Pity party city man, right?  Oh, I know it pains him to know what he misses – pictures and email can’t replace a warm body to wrestle with.  Nor can they climb the jungle gym or play power rangers.  I know Mike hates being away from us and feels the need to make sure all is in order when he does get home.  Still, knowing where we are both coming from doesn’t make it any easier though.  Nor does knowing that it happens every time he comes home.  There are always new decisions, my need to set the thermostat lower, and Thing 1’s ever growing hair – haha.  The ever eternal battles, right?

I keep telling him it is a good thing he’s such a good kisser, otherwise I wouldn’t put up with his temerity…but that is just to distract him while I round up to the next dollar in the checkbook!

Jeremy Wise, a navy pilot, died Friday when his Hornet had a mid-air collision with a Tiger during a training mission out of Fallon.

We knew Jeremy and his family in Kingsville, Texas.  Since there wasn't a lot to do during downtime the guys made up interesting games like "The Brownie Challenge," "The Egg Challenge," and "The Cake Challenge" - let me be clear when I say even the "winners" of those challenges weren't really winners when you consider how much they puked afterwards.  We played poker a lot, and I remember one game night of trivia, after Sonia had Liam, where they brought him along.  I remember thinking how much Liam looked like his dad - and goodness, but you could see how proud Jeremy was of his little man.

We knew them only a short while, mostly through other friends - everyone kinda just hung out together down there.  But when I saw this story, it was so shocking...we could have seen them yesterday for how vividly all the times we hung out came back to me.  Passing Sonia on walks around the complex when she was still pregnant, boys against girls trivia where the guys cheated to high heaven and thought we didn't know it...

Heaven.

I can only take solace knowing that someone like Jeremy is definitely up there now, looking down on the rest of us.  That is what keeps me from totally falling apart at the knowledge that his wife had no idea that when he walked out the door that morning it would be the last and that his son, the little guy that looks so much like him, will grow up without even knowing him.

What a loss for everyone, but especially his family.

I wrote this article back in 2005 about my step-dad.  Our recent trip down south made me think how lucky my boys are to have such a wonderful person in their lives.  While we were there, "Grandbilly":

- took Thing 1 as a "partner" in his worm business,

- made him a Power Ranger out of old milk jugs and pieces of PVC (he says he is going to use it as a scarecrow of sorts since I would not take it home with us to put in the front yard like Thing 1 was planning),

- watched Thing 2 for an afternoon and came up with a new nickname for him - Tazmanian Devil,

- cooked his specialty breakfast of bacon and eggs (bacon after the eggs of course - for the full absorption of the grease into the eggs!),

- shared his oatmeal every morning with Thing 1 AND Thing 2 (eventually he protested that they get their own bowls),

- and basically surrendered any chance of sleeping late as his name was the first thing out of my older son's mouth every morning. 

Damn, but I'm sorry I gave him such a hard time growing up!

********

When I think back to some of the names that I used to call my stepfather, Billy, I have to laugh. I think my favorite was Farmer Bill. We have long since settled on a more respectful name (Billydad) but don't think it was an easy path . . . it was anything but.

Billy is the man who loved my mom enough to join a ready-made family with two unwilling and hostile children. He must not have known what he was getting into all those years ago.

He had no idea that he would be thrust into the role of father and role model to my brother and I. He had no idea that kids like to get really dirty and love to sit on their parents bed and eat messy foods (usually in that order).

And he certainly must have had no idea that he was going to have to get over his loathing (and allergies) of "indoor animals" and the expectation of putting something down and having it stay there.

Yes, Billy definitely had to learn patience, a priceless commodity in any family, but especially in ours.

If he had had any idea of what he was getting into, he might have chosen a different path. Thank God for us that he didn't.

At first Billy seemed ill equipped to conform to the dad role. He had never been around kids before, so my brother and I did our best to shock the obsessive compulsiveness right out of him (it didn't work, although his hair is much grayer now).

We did everything we could to test the limits. My brother was especially good at that.

My teenage years were a rough time for Billy and me. I was so busy trying to prove that he wasn't my dad, that I didn't notice what a fabulous dad he really was.

Looking back, I think of all the times that, while fishing, he had to bait my hook for me because worms are gross, the funny cards he would get me randomly (always with a pack of Reese's Pieces), and he and mom coming to every single one of the football games to watch me dance. One of my proudest moments in college was when he gave me a toolbox when I was initiated into my sorority.

I remember him building things for science fairs and class projects (somehow he always got volunteered) and going camping with my brother for Boy Scouts.

He never made me feel as though he was only my stepfather, a fact I found to be extremely annoying whenever I got grounded. Still, now I realize that he always knew that my brother and I were kids of his heart, if not his genes, and he was just waiting on us to realize it, too.

Billy is a quiet guy. I used to mistake that quietness for a lack of something to say. Now I know that it isn't for lack of knowledge or willingness to talk, he just likes to take in his surroundings and think before he speaks. He is thoughtful and deliberate, qualities that I have grown to admire in him. I always feel like I walk away with something after a conversation with him.

They say that you can't choose your family, and in most cases that's true. However, in my case, I thank God that Billy chose to take on our family and that I am lucky enough to call him Billydad.

Did you guys catch this article last week about the USNA pitcher who was trying to get out of (or adapt) his commitment in order to get play pro-baseball?

Well, here's the update.  And, it is not gonna happen.

From the article:

            “We are a nation at war, and we believe it’s inappropriate to allow Navy and Marine Corps personnel to be released from service obligations to play professional sports at the same time that other sailors and Marines are carrying out their service obligations,” Lt. Karen Eifert, a Navy spokeswoman in Washington, said this afternoon."

I have mixed feelings about this.  I've always heard that rumor that you could buy your way out of a commission on the long shot that you won the lottery or something like that (to the tune of $250,000).  And, I know there have been previous examples (like NBA star David Robinson who is mentioned in the first article) of this happening.  I am inclined to believe in the good PR for the Navy that could come out of situations like this and that case-by-case reviews are essential.  And, if he can cough up the $250,000 to repay his education (as if you could put a price on going to USNA and the opportunities afforded one who goes there...) I'm also inclined to support letting him serve his country is this odd, yet, I believe, ultimately valid, way.

However, the fact that we are, as a country, at war (let's not split hairs on the declaration that didn't happen - that just further serves my point) gives me pause to wish that we were all a little more focused on our personal obligations to make this country a better place.  Is that too much of a stretch?  Like, I wish I wasn't in the position to have to support this kid's chance at stardom b/c all I can think about is all the other guys and gals who can't be released from service obligations for other, very real personal situations.  Plus, again, we are at war people!?!?  Citizens - especially one steeped in the ethical, honorable, and noble traditions of what it means to be a military member and to know what it means to go beyond what is legal to do what is moral and just - citizens like that should understand the value and nobleness they are being honored with by being allowed to serve in our military.

Like I said - mixed feelings.  What do you guys think?

Wow!  The shoes that launched a thousand tongues wagging.  Comments can be seen here, here, here, here, here, here, and...well, you get the point.  Forget about the focus on the Truman crew coming home to their family and friends...let's dissect what a pair of hot pink high heels say about a woman and her husband's rank.

Along the same lines, the new season of Army Wives began last night.  I watched it against my better judgement.  I didn't really understand the appeal last season and still don't.  I didn't like the whole surrogacy plotline - it reeked of defrauding the Tricare system (i.e. she gets double the money from the parents-to-be b/c neither party has to pay for her pre-natal care - Uncle Sam foots the bill.  Ergo...what a great job industry for military wives).  Scoff if you will, but the military spouse forums lit up afterwards with people asking how to qualify and find agencies wanting to work with military dependents.  I don't know, it left an odd taste in mouth.  Plus, how can Catherine Bell go from being a freaking hardcore Marine so such a simpering, namby-pamby mouse of a thing?  It was just depressing to watch.  And, gawd!  Can we not even talk about that one wife who feels no shame in running around in her mismatched pajamas while yelling at her husband's superior.  It was just mortifying to watch...and I almost expected to see those hot pink high heels on her.  I mean, that is the idea they were trying to get across, right?

Both of these situations bring up the whole stereotypical idea of what it means to be a military spouse.  And PS - I have to laugh that I chose tonight to write this blog as I am sitting here, no lie, in my "This is What a Feminist Looks Like" t-shirt (in case you want one for yourself!). Well, I am a military spouse - so does that make me the norm?  Probably not.  But does it make my experience - and that of the people that know me as a military spouse -  any less real?  A resounding no.

I don't know.  I guess I'm not down with trying to nail us all into a little box of what it means to be a military spouse.  I don't do that with my friends who are teachers.  I certainly don't think all doctors are the same (or their husbands and wives either!).  I don't think they have the same experiences, thoughts, paradigms, opinions, family life, vehicles, and voting patterns.  Why is it that we do it for people associated with the military?  And, another question...why is it happening more often nowadays.  I would hazard a guess that as the military and its personnel take up more and more of the front pages of the papers people want to see behind the curtain, see the grit behind the scenes.

I mentioned in my last post about visiting my parents in Georgia.  While there I did field a lot of questions which I gave my reasoned and ideological answers too.  But, I seriously hope those people didn't take my views as the end-all be-all, official answer for all Navy wives.  I hope they triangulate a bit with other sources of information and come to their own conclusions.  I don't want the responsiblity of being a stereotypical military spouse.  It would be a lot of effort from what I've heard they are like. 

And I'd have to take off several of my bumper stickers before I'd be taken seriously as one anyway.

So, I am actually writing from down here in the land of sweet tea and magnolias.  I have already stocked up on some more UGA gear for the kids and eaten at Hickory House (great hole in the wall bar-b-que joint).  That's right - I packed up Thing 1 and Thing 2 and came down here to Hotlanta to visit family.  I also got to attend the wedding of a sorority sister on Saturday night, the impetus for this visit.  It has taken me till now to sit down and write about it though.

As we are getting older the weddings are getting tamer; probably because more and more of us have kids we have to get home to now. Or maybe we just can’t hold our liquor in our old age - haha. At any rate, I’m having much better conversations these days and even remembering them the next day.  My friend’s wedding was beautiful – outside at sunset. Then we went inside for the dinner and dancing.  A truly lovely evening spent with wonderful friends who I don’t often get to see.

I just wish Mike could have come. The last time he’s been able to come home with me for something like this was three years ago – to another wedding. I made him wear a Lilly Pulitzer tie that matched my dress. I’m still waiting for (and he’s definitely dreading!) another opportunity to wear that matchy-matchy outfit with him. I know, how lame right? But down here people still wear bowties and suspenders for dress up. And it takes a hot man to get away with wearing pink doesn’t it?

I usually don’t wax poetic or feel sorry for myself when Mike misses important events because he’s in the Navy – I realize how lucky and blessed we are in other ways. Plus, I’m pretty gosh-darn independent and I pride myself on my ability to build a bridge and get over it. It was the song though. You know those sappy, sentimental slow songs they play at weddings. I couldn’t help myself but tear up as I remembered dancing to that same song with him at our wedding. Goodness, but sometimes I can actually feel my heart ache to be away from him.  Thankfully I was talking to a good, dear friend and we were able to escape outside to both let off our “I’m perfect” masks for just a moment. You know the “I’m perfect” mask – it is the one you wear around frenemies (and yes, I mean what you think I mean) when you want everyone to know that, yes, your life is just as great, wonderful, and, of course, perfect! as they are telling you theirs is. Hearing my friend talk about her troubles though, made me realize…we are all fighting our own personal battles, problems, and demons. It is just that some are better at hiding it than others. I haven’t even told some of my closest friends what a hard time I’m having with Mike gone this time because it just seems so damn self-indulgent and woe-is-me. 

But there are times when I stumble in my attempt to not let Mike’s absence overpower our daily lives. I think it is harder down here because this isn’t a big Navy town and people like to ask a lot of questions about what he does, where he is, and wonder how I “handle” it. All are well meaning, and I’m glad to be able to talk about him and tell people how he’s doing…but this weekend at the wedding, I was the only girl there clutching my cell phone all night on the off chance my husband could call and say hi.  I was the only one of my friends who pretended to have to use the restroom to avoid sitting at the table alone while the other couples enjoyed that sappy slow dance. 

As if to prove my theory of personal demons though, I do have to mention that as I carefully reconstructed my “I’m perfect” mask enough to go back in for some groom’s cake another friend charged towards where we had been sitting. It seems she was dreading the bouquet toss and all the drama that entails…why do people care when she gets married anyway, she asked. Then she said something that just made me laugh - why is there so much damn pressure at these things?

This one just breaks my heart.

At an elementary school in Florida, Wendy Portillo, a kindergartner teacher, made one of her students stand up in front of his class while each student said something they didn't like about him.  Then, in what can only be inspired by some reality TV show, Ms. Portillo actually had the students vote on whether to keep Alex in their classroom.  Alex, who is being evaluated for Asperger's syndrome, an autism spectrum disorder, was voted out of the class by a 14-2 vote.

I first read about this story on DailyKos - a progressive sort of website (check it out!) where the author was trying to spread the word to get the story out to the MSM.  Obviously, it did catch hold.  And, how could it not?  What kind of person would do that to a 5 year-old?  I mean, seriously?  If you read the article or listen to some of the news clips Ms. Portillo says she didn't do anything wrong.  What kind of twisted, repressed educational theoretical basis could she have possibly been using?  Real life isn't like Survior for pete's sake. 

When I read about the vote of 14-2 the only thing I could think to myself was that I hope to Goddess that I have raised my son in a way such that he would have been one of those 2 kids who voted to "keep" Alex.  It shakes me to my core to know that someone raised Ms. Portillo in a way, or somehow someone taught her something, that led her to believe that was the right thing to do.

I think there is too much reality TV mentality pervading our actual reality these days.  That is the only thing that could be behind someone, a teacher no less, being so devoid of feeling and empathy that she would facilitate the utter degradation of a struggling little person just full of potential and feelings who wants nothing more than to be accepted and have friends.

I'm going to go and have a talk with my little one right now.  I'm going to tell him I love him, how special he is, and that he should always be kind to others.  And I'm going to hope that we continue to raise him in a way that allows him to retain that childlike appreciation for all people - no matter their differences.  Children have to be taught to see diversity as something to pick apart and be scared of, instead of celebrate.  Let's just hope that Ms. Portillo doesn't get to teach that lesson again.