Doomed to Repitition

I’m a bit early on my post that touches on Veterans Day. For most, I think it’s become just another holiday on the calendar that some don’t have to go to work for.

Time as a unit of measure marches on. This passage—known to those who study it as “history”—is too often ignored. Worse, men (and women) who ought to know better, dismiss it as mere dates, names, and numbers.

We know the quote, attributed to George Santayana, about ignoring our past. People love to quote it, and yet, those very same people—often learned and well-educated in a formal sense—rarely take the time to read and ruminate on the foundation that our nation, our ideals, and our form of government rests upon.

Books like this one expand our understanding of the past.

I spent a portion of October reading a splendid book about the 1960s. Southern historian Frye Galliard’s, A Hard Rain: America in the 1960s, Our Decade of Hope, Possibility, and Innocence Lost, offers an expansive unfolding of the time and key figures and events that framed one of our country’s most significant, and equally tumultuous decades. It took Galliard, a gifted historian nearly 700 pages to create this historical snapshot. He easily could have gone on I’m sure, but even at that length, the book is longer than most people are willing to sit with, even something so significant. It’s really too bad because I thought it was readable in a way that longer, historical tomes are often, not.

Tomorrow will be Veteran’s Day. This weekend, our ahistorical president, oblivious and ignorant to the symbolism and significance of the ending of World War I, performed like a petulant adult-child. This Orange Menace, who occupies our presidency, exhibited a truculence that was disrespectful to the country of France, his hosts, and he also was a sorry surrogate for Americans who remember the events of that horrible war, even if it was experienced during a long-ago history class in school. The president also demonstrated total disdain for the solemnity of Armistice Day, nor the memories of those who gave the ultimate sacrifice in a war where more than 16 million soldiers and civilians perished. It’s quite likely he didn’t even know what Armistice Day is. Continue reading

Going West

I’ll be headed west again today, driving into Maine’s western mountains. It’s a beautiful drive, and the snow-capped mountains of the region always seem to be beckoning me toward them.

The drive, usually up Route 4, is a long one and I like to stop off in Farmington because that’s about half way for me. Farmington is the big town in Franklin County and as such, has the most of almost everything related to commerce. Continue reading