In memory of John Doe.

[Half-Century Man]

2. I feel like vomiting already.

Not because the cartoon is wrong, it's horribly right. I'm just tired of burying acquaintances, friends, their children, and parts of acquaintances, friends and children. I'm tired of the mind boggling waste of it all. At least the family hasn't lost anyone since the war in the Pacific (Guadalcanal, if I remember correctly).
I'm tired of trying to explain PTSD symptoms to barely conscious normal citizens, I'd have better luck explaining Japanese grammar to kittens.
I'm tired of every dumb fuck or dumb fuck ad that tells me to have a happy Memorial Day. This day always smells like sweat and blood to me.
I have a friend who marches with the VFW Color Guard. Normally he limps a bit, not memorial day, not in Parade. He marches like new forged steel, like he did for his senor trip to Viet Nam. By the time they stand down in the little park below Beloit College, M***y's eyes no longer see Wisconsin. His pained eyes look so far away; he even answers in a distant voice. In the Parade, he is who he was gong to VN, after the Parade, he is who he was for years after VN.

There is no fucking Happy Memorial Day.