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Mel's Procrastination Palace
Friday, August 19, 2005 I haven't written a thing...

Other than bitchy blogs, you know where, and crits for one of my bestest pals. And since I figured I should actually post about writing, for that was the intent of this blog, well, there hasn't been much to say...

Figured tonight was worth talking about, however.
Dh took me on a date, to the movies no less. Which means I have the inevitable headache caused form staring at a giant screen while sitting in the dark. But it's a beautiful night out, a bit cold for me (mid 70's) but the moon is so big and bright, glowing almost pearl-like in the midnight blue sky. With the thought nights like these are precious, we pulled out the motorcycle and took a ride.

Here's where the post gets sappy.
I'd forgotten until we we saw a sign directing us to it. The WALL was in town. A traveling replica of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial has been set up here. I wasn't sure how I'd feel actually standing there, before the names, running my fingers over the engraved letters, knowing each one stood for a man (or woman) who died right around the time I was born. Was it profound? Hell yeah. I had a perpective already about it, but wasn't prepared for the emotion encased in that marble-like wall, glistening with the full moon and subtle but light providing spotlights as we walked the wooden planking. Hundreds of flags lined the walkway. Patriotic music played over the loudspeaker, again, subtly done, but oh so thought provoking.

Personally, I don't know anyone lost in that war, and I thank God that is the case. I cannot fathom for those who have felt the loss, when the tears flowed freely from this one untouched individual. War is neither right nor wrong, and is often regarded on such grand schemes that take away from the individuals who sacrificed so much. Go to the wall. Boy, that changes things.

Standing there, I thought of my problems, the adversities I face, because face it, that's the only experience I have to draw from. And you know what? That ain't shit. I ain't shit. No, I take that back, I am someone. You all are someones, because for hundreds of years, men have fought and died to give us freedom, land, integrity and the right to argue over petty politics and what should be basic human rights.

I'm a writer.
Isn't it amazing how one event can skew one's outlook? I used to think of a hero as the man who got the heroine at the end of a book. Real life heroes? Oh, sure, they existed.

Tonight, I read the names of a few, a few that are but a handful of those I really should be thinking of when I think "hero."

(Sorry to get all sniffly.... but it's my blog and I'll totally post out of left field if I want to :P)

Posted by Melani Blazer :: 10:23 PM :: 4 comments

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