Posted July 8th, 2007 by lex
I know this is a hard concept for the baby boom generation to grok, because we’ve all of us been told how important we are, how special, and how authentically wonderful. But when your 23-year old son joins the Marines – the Marines, for God’s sake, America’s 911 force – in order to serve his country and ends up going to the battlefield where his country’s enemies are found?
It’s not about you, anymore. It’s not about your feelings, or where you got your master’s degree. It’s about him. The young man who stood up and said, “I’ll go. Choose me.”
These are hard times. You ought to try and get over yourself, see the larger picture. Recognize who actually has skin in the game, and who is merely spectating. Pray a bit. Hope for the best. Write often. Send gedunk.
Just like all the people who didn’t get their master’s degree at Columbia.