I would have to agree with you on that point. It wouldnt be hard to come up with a much better title that honors the greatest part of today's generation.
GOOD!! LOL.
I got out-voted on our initial meeting. I was the only old codger, meeting with a bunch of the wives, husbands, and children of our soldiers. I'll tell ya' how out of "it" I am . . . this is embarrassing, LOL . . . but I didn't even know what MTV was. And after my youngest daughter showed me on TV . . . I was glad. I've now blocked the channel so she can't watch it. VH-1 too.
I've sent all the "MTV-voters" your comments. Maybe y'all can knock some sense into them.
Dog, I agree with you about the "greatest part of today's generation." I'm old, fat, and senile . . . and I came into the fatherhood game late in life after adopting five children . . . and I must admit that based on some of the troubles my many nieces, nephews, and younger cousins got into, and still get into, I was really, really worried about this generation.
Then my nephew, my oldest child now -- a long story I won't bore you with -- enlisted. ENLISTED!! This only proved to me how irresponsible this generation was.
He only had one semester to go for a college degree . . . the first in his generation in our family to get a degree . . . a degree he worked his tail off to get in 3-1/2 years and be in the top 5% of his class . . . a degree that me and my other four children and one brother and one sister scrimped, saved, and slaved to pay for with our combined efforts and savings . . . a degree I HUNGERED for to serve as a shining example to his younger brothers and sisters.
And he "threw" it all away by enlisting in September of 2001.
I was one mad-disappointed Uncle/Father.
Until his Special Forces class finally graduated. Along with my near-college graduate son in this graduating class, there was one mid-20's lawyer, one guy one year away from being a doctor, one ex-college football jock who was starting for his university in his junior year but quit the team after 9-11, and one English-teaching "squirt" who looked like he couldn't push my wheelchair much less manage the rigors of the Special Forces . . . I later learned he was, my son's words - not mine, "the meanest sumbitch in the unit."
I bawled like a baby when I realized how selfish I'd been. Maybe all parents go through this, I don't know. But it floored me when I realized my son was now A MAN . . . doing the right thing for his country, despite my incessant bitching. He understood far better than I what was needed.
I've been his biggest Cheerleader ever since that day . . . to the chagrin of some of my fellow FReepers I'm sure since I bang my drum about him every chance I get. LOL.
Dog, this younger generation has far, far more mettle in their bones than any of us old kooks give them credit for. I don't think "Squirt" . . . yes, I nicknamed him that and I'm proud of the fact that I'm the ONLY one who gets away with calling him that . . . would mind if I shared an excerpted part of an email he sent his wife.
Again, these are Squirt's words, not mine . . .
"Ricky scored a goal today, Baby! You should've seen the sparkle in his eyes. None of us had ever seen him even smile but his grin would light _________'s football stadium. This light would've been the only thing that could've made you more beautiful on THAT night you were coronated Football Queen. I still tear-up when I think of how beautiful you were then, and how even more beautiful you are now. I love you, Baby."
Ricky? Ricky, obviously, wasn't his Arabic name but Squirt couldn't pronouce it so he assigned American names to all the youngsters they came into contact with. Ricky was ONE of seven Iraqi orphans Squirt's and my son's unit "adopted" their first tour there. Ricky had his left foot amputated after he stepped on a mine. Ricky's prosthetic foot was paid for by countless bake and garage sales. He'd been the most withdrawn of all the youngsters they knew. Squirt even worried that he might commit suicide, hence he took a special interest in Ricky. Squirt and my son saw Ricky every day they weren't in the field.
Years later and all five families and soldiers are still financially supporting the orphans as best we can. One of them will be going to school in Switzerland in January.
Squirt and my son's unit, along with some wonderful Seabees (sp?) cleared off a lot and built the neighborhood youngsters a soccer/football/baseball field. How those Seabees did it is beyond me . . . but according to my son it was absolutely the most beautiful field he ever saw -- hell, it even had grass and chalk lines to mark the field for whatever game they were playing. The field is still being used today . . . championship soccer and baseball games are played there.
The field is now named after Squirt.
He was killed the day after he wrote the above-mentioned letter to his lovely wife.
Squirt's wife is now in the process of formally and legally adopting Ricky.
So yes, Dog, my son and his generation have proven to this doubting Thomas that we Americans have nothing to worry about. We're in good hands.
I'm sorry this is so long and I'm sorry if it doesn't make much sense but my youngest daughter is typing this for me and it's hard to type and dictate when tears are flowing.
God, how I love my son and his comrads.