ON REMEMBERING ANNIVERSARIES

My wife is great for remembering anniversaries and birthdays.

It’s an encyclopedic memory of family, friends, and pretty much anyone who has ever been born.

At least that’s what it feels like in comparison to her husband, who is more selective.

I remember plenty, I’m not saying I don’t, but ask me the birthday of my uncle’s kids’ kids?

You might as well ask that other David with the mediocre marble head.

I work on remembering anniversaries that matter.

My Dad’s birthday is the official date WWII in Europe ended; a sibling’s birthday is the same date the War in the Pacific ended.

Kind of weird, but I like it.

My Dad went off to war in Korea and had a big day on 9-11-51.

 

Corporal Gillaspie bravely moved from man to man through the fire-swept area to assume command of the unit. Reorganizing the squad, he skillfully led an assault to overrun the first objective and, after evacuating several wounded men, directed a final devastating attack to completely rout the enemy.

 

People remember the day the twin towers fell, an awful day, along with other events.

It’s the same with big dates throughout history.

We all know December 7 as a date that will live in infamy, but it’s also the date of the Night and Fog Decree, and Larry Bird’s birthday, along with another special birthday close to home.

 

Remembering Anniversaries

A wedding anniversary is a big one, as in BIG ONE.

If you forget it you might as well not be married.

Forget your wedding anniversary one year and it might be the last, then you get remarried and it’s all a blur.

But that’s not what happened.

I’ve got the ring on, so it’s after we got hitched, and the reverend is saying, “Hold on there, buddy, we’ve got some unfinished business.”

My wife and I love remembering our special day, but we share different versions.

 

Me: Yes, I remember.

Wife: You remember the radioactive rain from the Chernobyl disaster.

Me: It was a wet day, yes.

Wife: And you were worried about the radiation rain melting the pop-up rain covers.

Me: Yeah, I don’t remember that, but I’m glad we had them.

Wife: You remember the climbers on Mt. Hood and the road grader in the parking lot motel.

Me: There was a lot going on. I remember the money dance, and the lasagna, and the beer.

Wife: And?

Me: And how beautiful you looked as a bride. I knew you’d be a good wife.

Wife: It’s been a good run.

Me: Want to give it another year?

Wife: Maybe we should renew our vows?

Me: I do. Now we’re done.

 

Renewing Vows

I didn’t make a vow to be my Dad’s favorite kid, but you’d never know it.

This is the old Marine and his favorite Army veteran while cutting wood and clearing land.

I liked going down there and working like a kook to show him how it’s done and what to expect from the others when they showed up.

I set the standard for visiting his acreage. It wasn’t a vacation but a chance to make improvements.

Mostly it was a chance to know the old man better, and show him the kind of man he raised.

He always got a kick out of it when I didn’t wear long sleeves and my arms got scraped and cut and bled.

 

Dad: You ought to wear long sleeves.

Me: Naw, I’ll go back to the office all slashed up so they can see what it’s all about.

Dad: What’s it all about?

Me: Taking the good with the bad.

Dad: You could get an infection.

Me: Good call. How about I wash off the blood and find a sweatshirt.

Dad: I would do that.

 

Following The Law Of The Land

Common sense says if you break the law, the rules, you will have a problem.

It’s a bigger problem when laws go unenforced.

Listen to the museum guard presenting the Magna Carta for clarification.

The Statue of David is a world treasure known for its depiction of some kid.

This David, the writer writing this blog post on boomerpdx, is also world renowned if you count bot traffic.

With that authority, I encourage my readers to mind their manners, behave themselves as they best know how, and think for themselves.

If someone tells you what to do, and it doesn’t sound right, then don’t do it.

Or ‘get clarification.’

If you’re in the Army like I was, and you get told what to do, and it doesn’t sound right, paraphrase it back to the commander to be sure it’s not an illegal order.

If some shit-bag of a man tells you to go to a public place and raise hell?

A normal person would hear that and say ‘fuck off” to any notion of storming a public place with intentions and equipment beyond a camera and a note pad.

But we all experience things in our own way.

Some of us take responsibility for our actions, some don’t.

Which one would you want driving the car on I-10 headed into the afternoon sun?

If we’re here to be helpful, to be useful, then act like it.

Help yourself become a better person by remembering your responsibilities.

The law of the land is spelled out more than once in more than one jurisdiction.

 

 

PS: You don’t have to be haunted by Edward Hopper to take a picture like this. Pure Americana isn’t that picky.

PSS: Understanding the intended consequences for getting caught up doing the wrong thing is supposed to be a deterrent.

How’s that working out? All good? Great.

Do we need practice for remembering anniversaries?