The Daily Brief

While camping about four or five years ago, we invited a friend out for a Saturday evening barbecue by the lake. Upon arrival he immediately tuned the radio to the Prairie Home Companion, a National Public Radio staple hosted by Garrison Keillor for some thirty years. I was immediately addicted, and have missed it only twice since – every Saturday from five to seven p.m., either in the kitchen or on the patio, depending on the weather. For the uninitiated, the show is reminiscent of old-time radio, with live performers doing sketches, musical pieces, and monologues (the sound effects are great). For the most part, Real Wife and Red Haired Girl tolerate these interludes, albeit with not a little eye rolling and grumbling. Garrison Keillor is an old sixties liberal, the modern mutations of which seem to have taken our country in a decidedly bad direction, so I am sometimes irritated at the subtle Bush bashing that often appears in the show. In looking at show’s web site to see what the guest lineup for tonight is, I came across this column that he recently posted. It reminded me of something the USAF recruiter told me some thirty-four years ago. He said that one can always tell that a person has served in the military, no matter how many years ago, simply by their demeanor and the way they comport themselves. At the time it seemed like more piling on of reasons why I should sign on, but in the years since it has often come back to me. My military experience has undoubtedly helped me in my career through having learned the value of focusing on problems at hand. On my recent trip to Germany I was honored to have had quite a number of conversations with young soldiers, airmen and marines while waiting for flights (usually in smoking lounges – one bad aspect of the military that is unfortunately with me to this day) and was struck by that common trait.

Back to the subject. In his column, Mr. Keillor makes this same observation far more eloquently than I ever could. Coming from one who, by his own admission was a Vietnam draft dodger and is, to this day, a flaming liberal, means something. I particularly like his suggestion to amend the Constitution to require that presidential aspirants have completed at least two years military service. Alas though, toward the end of the column he sinks back to the left’s tendency to denigrate Dubya, and even more telling, mildly insult the very people he had just complemented. His reference to the current Army as “blue collar” is akin to the mantra “we hate the war but support the troops” in one breath and protesting military recruiters in the next. Nonetheless, it is a good read, and I will still tune in to his show (5:00 central time on your local public radio station). Enjoy.

I’m heading south in the morning (southeast, more accurately), to attend Joe’s funeral. I’ve printed out copies of our various postings about Joe for Nurse Jenny, and I’ll stop along the way and get a sympathy card, signing it on behalf of all of us here. Sgt Mom and I talked about flowers/plants, and if I get a chance, I’ll get something, again saying that it’s from all of us. I spent 9 hours getting from point A to point B today, and by the time I landed, I’d forgotten about tracking down flowers, darn it.

Afterwards, I’m spending the night with some other friends in that general area, so it will most likely be Sunday evening before I’m back in the land of the internet (although I might be setting up their wireless network while I’m at my friends’, so that might mean that I *am* able to get online Sat night. we’ll see).

At any rate, once I’m back and have composed some coherent thoughts, I’ll do a final “Joe post,” about the funeral. I’m glad I’m able to be there and bid him one last farewell, but man, I’m wishing that it wasn’t necessary. I’d much rather have him here, posting his thoughts and enjoying his grandkids, ya know?

…but his writing lives on, I suppose as long as Jenny allows Patriot Flyer to stay up. Just like Radar, words fail me, but what better tribute than to point you to his writing here, or at his PF blog.

Go and see that he was able to attend his daughter’s wedding before he passed.

See what he did for the victims of Katrina.

And read his advice to his grandchildren; it is clear what kind of man he was:

6. Be prayerful. Your relationship with God is all-important. You can never have a relationship with anyone if you never talk to them. Pray in praise to God for His goodness, pray in thanksgiving for His gifts, pray in humility for His greatness in you, and pray in submission to His will in your life. Pray in love for His love, and for the love He has given you by sending His Son Jesus to be the sacrifice for your sins. Seek His guidance and you can never go wrong.

I look forward to seeing you again, Joe. Thanks for everything.

David

PS Hope this is in keeping with Timmer’s suggestion.

Sometimes images work better than words.

Bye Joe.

Flying Without Wings

Some folks are bound to earth
with heavy chains of tempered steel,
Others with but silken threads
they seem to break at will.

Some folks fly high because they know
the art of air machines,
and some, like Joe, can know the joy
of flying without wings.

He’s soaring now, above the clouds
that block our earthbound view,
and we celebrate his flight
although our hearts are torn in two.

He flies alone, without his wife
and kids – it’s solo time.
We’re left behind, and yet our friend
is with us for all time.

We watch his acrobatic flight
with hearts that are tear-dimmed.
He soars, he wheels, he dips and dives,
then skyward soars again.

We sense his joy at chains released,
delighting in his flight,
and even though the sky is dark,
he’s flying into Light.

One last approach over his old home,
one last message to send.
A feather-kiss to Jenny,
then skyward he ascends.

He’ll wait for her to join him,
for their hearts are so entwined
that even in his new home,
she’ll be always on his mind.

Love doesn’t stop for death or grief,
or other earthly things,
and when the time is right
they’ll both be flying without wings.

3/1/06, mvy
In memory of Joe Comer, cyberfriend and honorary dad.
I’ll fly with you someday, my friend. I promise.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,

And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;

Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth

Of sun-split clouds, –and done a hundred things

You have not dreamed of –Wheeled and soared and swung

High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there

I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air…

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue

I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace

Where never lark or even eagle flew —

And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod

The high untrespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

~~John Gillespie Magee, Jr~~

If I may be so bold…I would request that we, none of us, post anything for a full 24 hours… Or at least keep the posts related to Joe.

Gonna miss that ol’ man.