Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Between the nightmares of daytime, and the work of the nighttime....

It was the spring of 1980 when I remember thinking it for the first time.

"My generation will make it right."

As you might remember (if you're old enough or if you study all of American History, and not just the part where we came off smellin' like a rose), in November of 1979, our Embassy in a certain Middle Eastern country was overrun by a bunch of people with guns and masks and Anti-American slogans.  They quickly subdued the brave Marines tasked with guarding the place (largely because they were specifically ordered not to fire their weapons) and took 52 Americans hostage on what, technically, was American soil and consequently, an act of war.

Those people with the guns and the masks, one of which looked suspiciously like the current leader of that Middle Eastern country, held those 52 American for well over a year, effectively holding the entire country hostage.  The President, hog-tied by his love of public opinion and one disastrous rescue attempt, was eventually defeated by a former actor and former Governor of California; and shortly after the great man's inauguration, those brave souls were released.

In the midst of it, there were vigils and semi-patriotic gatherings around flag poles, praying for the safety of those brave souls, and hoping that perhaps that semi-patriotic gesture would not look as hollow as it felt.

And in July of 1980, they reinstated the Selective Service System, and my generation quaked at the idea of mandatory service, with the images of Vietnam still fresh in our heads.

It turned out for the best, I suppose; if by 'best' you mean that we have been enemies with that country and fighting a cold war with them since that time.  They are the North Korea of my generation, I suppose....a no-win.  They made us look cowardly and impotent, and even though the former actor and Governor of California took us to the gym and pumped us up during the 80's.....we still have the scar.

So, in the spring of 1980, shortly before my high school graduation and my soon-to-be sodden attempt at college, I stood with a hundred of my peers around a flagpole and raised a flag and prayed fervently that I wouldn't be wearing green and carrying an M-16 by Christmas.  And that aforementioned thought ran through my head:

"My generation will make it right."

And, in some cases, we tried.  Some of those people that stood with me that day became soldiers; some laid down their lives.  One became a minister, and through these years continues to be an inspiration.  A few became Doctors.  Most others became, through the natural order of things, Mothers and Fathers, and I hope they raised their children to listen, think and respond, and not the other way around.

But.  I guess it didn't turn out quite the way we hoped back in the days when we were green.  Every opportunity to unite the world, in triumph or tragedy, was squandered, and rather than evolve, we de-volved into the fourth grade playground we now occupy.

I am so disappointed.

But not dead, yet.

So, as feeble as it may be.....the fire still burns.

Hope.

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