I decided to recognize the last time our country invaded another country with a damn good reason and not some weaked-Knee jerk-off excuse conjured up by the current fools who control invasions, meddling with and otherwise screwing with the inner machinations of other countries.
D - Day was an invasion that made sense. D-Day was an invasion that actually had a direct effect on our security and the Mom, Pop and Apple Pie way of Life we were simmering on the our collective cook stoves.
I decided to celebrate this anniversary because of Anne R.
Anne R. was born and raised at least for the first decade of her life in England. I just repaired a couple of bikes for her. These bikes were repaired and tuned for her son who now lives in Boston.
So Anne R comes rushing into the shop. She seems all a fluster. In a slightly worn British accent, "I am so sorry. I wanted to pick up the bikes today. The car that will hold both is in the shop and they are supposed to tell me when it's ready, but they haven't called me yet."
I smiled and told her no problem. I was not worried about the bikes. She told me she wanted to at the least pay the bill. She stepped up to the counter. She looked me in the eyes.
"I remember 70 years ago today I looked up and the sky was covered by airplanes........."
I caught on immediately. "Far out. You were there when the Allies invaded Normandy. That is so cool."
Anne smiled. "Yes. I was just a child, but I remember. I remember well. My father was evacuated with the English troops from Dunkirk. WW ll was my childhood. We wee ones used to make a game of identifying the different German planes by their sound. I was pretty good..........Uh, I guess I have always had sharper ears than most."
I stood there fascinated with her brief reminisces of the last worthy war. I considered her memories of D-Day might be something akin to my memory of the day JFK died. It seems in every life, certain times, dates, and moments in Time, embed themselves so deeply into our minds, whenever we stumble into them again, we remember every sharp emotional detail. The day comes back as if it was Today.
All the way home from the shop to Wet Willy's to pick up pizza, I thought I should set down my impressions and recollections of this interaction with Anne R. But then I had two draught beers while waiting for my Large Pepperoni pizza to magically appear. And when I got home I cracked a Newcastle to wash down that Large Pepperoni Pizza with......... Belly full, I headed to the basement..............
A few more pulls than a sane man should inhale and more than a few shots of Evan Williams later, here I sit shitfaced, trying to share my absolutely fascinating and wonderful conversation with woman who saw something I will never know.............................
............................. Inebriation is a wonderful thing. It allows one to believe they are making sense and contributing to the betterment of the species, when in reality, come tomorrow morning A.M. when I look at this posted crap out there in living color for all to see, I was only making a fool of myself.
Celebrate............................. That is really all we have anyway.
____________________________________
This post is brought to youby playlist number MP #3 - "Warehouse" and about 100 plus other tunes that rock my world.
3 comments:
You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I thought this was a damned fine post.
This reminds me of a Scottish Friend who, as a wee one, clearly remembers his mother making him get under the kitchen table when the "Jerry" bombers flew over. He was about 4 or 5 at the time.
Great post! Except for WW2 I agree with the Marine general, whose name escapes me right now, that said war is a racket.
I was five years old and living in Kentucky, but I remember the excitement.
War is what we do - if we don't have a reason we invent one.
the Ol'Buzzard
Post a Comment