May 28 2023
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
"In Flanders Fields" by Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae is a renowned war poem written during World War I.
It poignantly describes the fields of Flanders, Belgium, where countless soldiers lost their lives in battle.
The poem serves as a powerful reminder of sacrifice and duty and has become associated with remembrance and honoring fallen soldiers.
The reference to poppies in the poem has also become a symbol of remembrance in many countries.
Relays commemorative coin http://www.euro-master.eu
A commemorative euro coin from Greece, also used in Relay race and Dolichos (race).
Passing the baton
Guest Commentary
by Howard Dinin
“May He remember…” [Yizkor]
Yahrtzeit candle, lit in remembrance (lasting for 24 hours) at sundown on the anniversary of the lunar calendar death of a loved one.
Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain.
There is a great solemn tradition among the Jewish faithful, likely as old as the faith itself. It is a tradition of remembrance. There are, as in so many other liturgies of diverse religions and sects around the world, formal and set ceremonies, in addition to traditional devotions, including prayer, blessings, and other verbal sacraments to commemorate the death of those newly departed for sure. In addition, there are many formulations for the continued remembrance of those no longer on this earth. For Jews, there is the daily call for Yizkor, prayers on the anniversary of the death of a loved one or family member. It is little known, I suspect, that the Yizkor service is also intended as part of the prayer service dedicated to memorials for martyrs. In Yiddish, the word is yahrtzeit, which means, literally a year’s time.
That’s the context of the thoughts I wanted to share in response to Dom’s call for the upcoming issue (this issue) of the ezine, “centered,” as he put it, on Memorial Day. I’ve been thinking about it since, and as Dom can tell you, I at first drew a blank.
Those of you who know me well enough to have this reflexive observation resonate know that given the chance—and absent the chance, I’ll sometimes create the opportunity myself—I like to look outside the box (since the box is my head, I can hardly think outside of it). If for no other reason, looking outside the box is an opportunity for a possible fresh point of view on what’s inside of it.
The United States, in some form or other, on a significant scale in terms of numbers, began observing Memorial Day very soon after one of the deadliest wars in which the country engaged, almost, but not quite, to the exclusion of any other casualties but American citizens (some of whom had tragically and very briefly renounced that allegiance, but likely in a sense in name only). I am speaking of the Civil War Between the States. Memorial Day was originally designated as Decoration Day. A day recognized and set aside to be dedicated to the decoration of the graves of the fallen. Originally, the effort was piecemeal and diverse, but there were similar ceremonies in all states (not always on the same date). A specific day for all mourners, nationwide, was first suggested in 1868 by General John Logan, head of an organization of Northern Civil War Veterans. The day (May 30) was chosen because there was no specific battle associated with it.
In time, it came to be called Memorial Day, though it was not until 1971 that the general day of remembrance of the dead of all wars in which Americans had died in military service was declared a national holiday. For perspective, let’s remind ourselves that this was 195 years after the signing of the Declaration of Independence, and 196 years after the first deadly fire was exchanged with the enemy of the first nominal “Americans” to be casualties of the hostilities.
I remember vaguely how as a child, and I mean very young, Decoration Day is how I remember it (a designation still in general use then, for a few years even after the end of World War II). It was a day, again, of great solemnity. I have a recollection of the solemnity, but I am not sure I was fully cognizant of the full set of reasons. Not at the ages of five, six, or seven. I remember ceremonies viewed on a tiny black-and-white television screen at something called the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. There has been a detachment of the U.S. Army’s Third Infantry Regiment, called “The Old Guard,” assigned to guard these graves (it is now called the Tomb of the Unknowns) on permanent duty, 24/7, since 1937. There is possibly no more solemn occasion in the myriad traditions and ceremonies of the U.S. military than the changing of the guard, which, in the summer months, during hours the Arlington National Cemetery is open to the public, occurs every half hour, in silence and with impeccable precision.
This ceremony has become the set piece as well, on significant occasions, like Veterans' Day and Memorial Day, for a wreath-laying ceremony, when the wreath is placed at the tomb, usually by a government official, no lower in rank than the Vice President. Often it is the President. It is this ceremony that, through the mists of memory, I recall watching as a boy.
I will leave with one additional thought. Looking from outside the box is a kind of liberation that permits thinking thoughts that might not otherwise occur, especially when we are bombarded by memes and clichés all day long, clamoring for attention, but also embedding themselves as received wisdom. I’d rather shake up my own thoughts, at least, especially those lulling me into some preemptive state of denial.
I was thinking that deliberately thinking about the dead of American wars—so many wars, really, this relatively young nation among many in the world so much older (entailing so many more deaths) has engaged in—could cause us to forget (though, as we’ve been reminded here) to commemorate the sacrifices endured by those who survived those wars, only to live with the consequences when back in a society not always to be so mindful as they are entreated on Memorial Day.
And I thought further, thinking, there are those who, like those perpetual guardians of the Tomb of the Unknowns, stand and watch, and wait, ever prepared, and still in the name of defending our freedoms. It seemed appropriate to ask one of the favorites of our editor’s “advisors” a question that seemed pertinent. I’m not sure I have a point (if, in fact, it’s only one point), but it’s enough if I inspire some further thought on the reader’s part, and the consequence is some new thought or an old one refreshed. The “favorite advisor” was ChatGPT (or its equivalent on Bing), and the question was essentially, in how many places on earth in which Americans have fought hot wars in the past, and died where they fought, do we still station troops in accord with our treaties and agreements with the host nations? They are scattered over most of the earth.
Our dedicated troops still stand, vigilant, on guard, ready to fight to preserve the freedoms on which our nation was founded. Should we not remember them too, in silent thanks?
President John F. Kennedy Lays Wreath at Tomb of Unknown Soldier, 1962
JFK Library archives, Public Domain
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Commentary
Last Monday of May
The American body politic has, many times in our brief history as a nation, called upon our military to defend us against or to attack our enemies. Our military has always responded. We have always applauded the military’s efforts. Would that applause be able to return the hundreds of thousands of the deceased.
Memorial Day is the specific moment in which our entire nation recognizes and thanks the military for its sacrifices: God bless you, my friends.
We have different ways of showing our thanks. Some, like visiting cemeteries and/or memorials, are private. Some, like ceremonies and parades, the laying of wreaths, the playing of Taps, and moments of silence, are communal. Some are interpersonal, like seeing an unfamiliar serviceman/woman, and extending an unsolicited “Thank you for your service.” Don’t let shyness hold you back. Today is the day to acknowledge and honor the living veterans and active service members for their service and sacrifice.
There are no ‘wings’ in this appreciation. Right and left, we praise the service members for accepting our decisions to fight and for exposing themselves to injury or death.
US Marines Fleet Anti-terrorism Security Team conduct an exercise aboard a fishing vessel
Official Navy Page from United States of America N. Ross Taylor/U.S. Navy - U.S. Marines conduct a visit, board, search and seizure exercise with the Royal Thai Navy aboard a Thai fishing vessel.
GULF OF THAILAND (May 21, 2012) U.S. Marines assigned to Fleet Anti-terrorism Security Team Pacific (FASTPAC) conduct a visit, board, search and seizure (VBSS) exercise with the Royal Thai Navy aboard a Thai fishing vessel. The exercise also included a maritime law enforcement team assigned to U.S. Coast Guard cutter Waesche (WMSL 751) as part of Cooperation Afloat Readiness and Training (CARAT) Thailand 2012. CARAT is a series of bilateral exercises held annually in Southeast Asia to strengthen relationships and enhance force readiness. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class N. Ross Taylor/Released) 120521-N-KB052-224 Join the conversation www.facebook.com/USNavy www.twitter.com/USNavy navylive.dodlive.mil
Permission details
Flinfo has extracted the license below from the metadata of the image (tag "IFD0:ImageDescription" contained "U.S. Navy photo"). The license visible at Flickr was "Attribution License".
AI CHATTER
”Here we have a book, nine eggs, a laptop, a bottle and a nail,” they asked AI. “Please tell me how to stack them onto each other in a stable manner.”
The researchers were startled by the ingenuity of the A.I. system’s answer. “Put the eggs on the book,” it said. “Arrange the eggs in three rows with space between them. Make sure you don’t crack them.
“Place the laptop on top of the eggs, with the screen facing down and the keyboard facing up,” it wrote. “The laptop will fit snugly within the boundaries of the book and the eggs, and its flat and rigid surface will provide a stable platform for the next layer.”
Microsoft Says New AI Shows Signs of Human Reasoning - The New York Times (nytimes.com)
Generated image from Bing Image Creator powered by Dall-E
I don’t think an image exists illustrating the solution.
Kat’s Gen Z Corner
May the odds be ever in your favor
Renting an apartment in New York City
May The Odds Be Ever in Your Favor
Kat Capossela
Finding an apartment in Manhattan in any given year is a challenge. In the post-pandemic, inflation-infused, affordability crisis that we are currently in, it’s comparable to a modern day Hunger Games.
A few rules of thumb, if you’re looking to rent sometime May through August. If you don’t get in contact with the broker within 24 hours of the listing going up, forget it. If you aren’t making six figures and want a one bedroom, move to Staten Island. Aren’t available to attend the 2pm showing tomorrow, a Tuesday? Fuhhgetaboutit. New York isn’t here to hold your hand.
My boyfriend and I had been in our current apartment for two years. But it also meant that I hadn’t seen direct sunlight in two years and hadn’t had a full 12 hours without being deafened by my upstairs neighbor who has cement in his shoes and terrible taste in rock music.
It was time to go. Leaving was also a massive and anxiety-inducing gamble.
Before we finished telling our current landlord we were moving out, our apartment’s listing was up on StreetEasy, the most popular rental site in the city. We signed our first lease back in 2021 for $2,400. In 2022, they only raised our rent $350, which, again, in this market was a steal. Today, the StreetEasy listing puts our 500-square-foot shack at $3,400. $1,000 more a month than what we began with.
There was no turning back, and I wasn’t going to let New York beat me down. I made looking for a new apartment a part time job. At my office desk, one monitor was for work and the other to refresh StreetEasy apartment listings. June 15 - June 30 move in. One bedroom somewhere between 67th and 87th streets on the west side, proximity to Central Park preferred. Cats allowed.
After a week of hustling, I scheduled six showings for us on Saturday during a massive downpour. Four apartments in, we were standing under the unrelenting rain, soaked and exhausted and dejected because none of the apartments were what we hoped for.
“None of the apartments looked like the photos.” “I guess this is all we can get in this market.” “I never knew having a dishwasher was considered a luxury.”
My phone buzzed. An email from a broker: “Are you available in 15 minutes to visit our unit?” I checked Google Maps. 10 minutes away. 30 minutes before our next showing. We shrugged and sloshed our way over.
It was the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. The photos didn’t do it justice. Loft style with the kitchen and dining area elevated onlooking the largest living room in the city, with a bedroom and office space. All within budget. What. The. Heck.
“How many people have seen this unit before us?” “You’re the first.” “A first application will guarantee our spot in line?” “Maybe.” We raced out of the place, tried not to glare at the three other couples who had accumulated in the hallway to view the unit after us, and settled into the nearest Starbucks to fill out the form on our computers.
Two sleepless and uncertain nights later, we got the apartment. I wanted to cry tears of joy.
85th Street and Central Park West is a tree and brownstone lined street that feels like a Mr. Roger’s neighborhood while also being a stone’s throw away from the best urban park in the world. It’s full of young parents and dogs and people that understand how special their block is. It’s the kind of place you dream of as a kid, and here we are.
This process gave me a few gray hairs and an unforgivable hole in my savings account, and I don’t intend to put myself through it for another few years, but I’m positive it will be worth it. We move in June 15. The unit doesn’t have a dishwasher and boasts a black toilet – yes, that’s a thing, I guess – but that’s besides the point.
Call me Katniss Everdeen.
The New Yorker Cover, May 29, 2023
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Tucker’s Corner
Like most genres War movies are incredibly misunderstood. It’s a rare case indeed when a filmmaker sets out to make a “pro war” film. Stanley Kubrick’s Full Metal Jacket, one of the most cynical antiwar films ever made actually boosted enlistment numbers. A lot of Americans just see guns and warfare as a chance at being a hero. All that said I took this Memorial Day issue to write about a film actually made by a religious conservative filmmaker, Mel Gibson. Whatever Gibson’s aim was with this film the result is I think one of the best lessons to be learned from a war film, pro or anti. Without people out there working their hardest to save those in need there really isn’t much point in doing much else. This is Hacksaw Ridge.
Hacksaw Ridge - Directed by Mel Gibson
The hellish second hour of Mel Gibson’s Hacksaw Ridge takes the audience into the front row of an anatomical theatre with the main lesson being warfare. The battlefield is shrouded by thick black smoke that only parts to display disembowelments, dismemberments, and partial decapitations. It’s sick and gruesome. Gibson’s camera shows us a muddy landscape littered with viscera and bombardment craters. Searching through the countless bodies, with a syrette of morphine pinched between his thumb and forefinger is Desmond Doss (Andrew Garfield) an American medic and pacifist who refuses to touch a gun. He’s skinny and tattered, a religious Seventh-Day Adventist whose faith is worn like armor. Doss was a real man, actually the first conscientious objector to receive the Medal of Honor and Gibson shows him first as a penitent, then a pilgrim and finally a saint. Hacksaw Ridge is chock full of religious allegory. Even the titular cliff at the Battle of Okinawa is less a geographical feature and more the entrance to genuine damnation.
Across Gibson’s directing career (Braveheart, The Passion of the Christ, Apocalypto) a clear interest can be divined. Human history is full of savagery and the protagonists in each of his films work to redeem that horror by enduring it. Hacksaw Ridge is no exception. Doss arrives at boot camp as an unassuming country boy and is almost immediately met with a true test of his beliefs rather than the physicality needed to be built and callused for war. He’s mocked at every turn and beaten while he tries to sleep for refusing to train with a rifle. The film’s entire first hour is dedicated to the ringer Doss goes through at the hands of his fellow soldiers. His spiritual and moral character are put through a crucible and his only reward is to be court martialed. Long before the battlefield this film is already difficult to stomach but as an audience, we want to see ourselves in Doss. Here is a man who as a child nearly killed his brother with a rock in a fight. He knows the toll violence can take and he refuses with all his heart to take up arms ever again. We all wish to be as strong as he is when tested to this level so it’s hard to look away.
Though our hero is a pacifist, that doesn’t stop Hacksaw Ridge from being the goriest war movie to ever come out of Hollywood. Gibson directs a battlefield littered with entrails, gushing flames, and contorted bodies. Blood rains from the sky (a result of heavy naval shelling) and trickles down the faces of infantrymen as they climb the enormous rope ladder up to the battlefield completely unaware that Gibson has assigned them each a place in the seventh circle of hell. The film’s first battle sequence feels breathless and endless, a tidal wave of violence that knocks the wind out of you as a viewer. As this sequence goes on we start seeing more and more from Doss’ point of view and in these moments we see all the horrors of war, not just specifics of the single battle being shown. Doss comes across a Japanese officer who committed suicide, his body dangling from the ceiling of an underground tunnel. He watches American and Japanese soldiers scream and fight for their lives over a tossed grenade before it blows them to bits. He even comes across a man buried up to his neck in the muck thanks to the force of artillery explosions. Throughout this horror the only time he ever picks up a rifle is to use it as a makeshift stretcher to get a wounded man off the battlefield.
With the exception of his wife Dorothy, a nurse who inspires Doss to become a medic, Hacksaw Ridge’s other characters all exist to represent challenges to the faith that Doss considers synonymous with his duty. From his drill sergeant (Vince Vaughn) to his alcoholic father (Hugo Weaving), a World War 1 veteran whose physical abusiveness is complicated rather than forgiven by the lengths he goes to help his son.
Hacksaw Ridge feels like the most refined of Gibson’s directorial projects so far. The violence on display is as intense as any he’s subjected us to before, but it feels more purposeful now. Desmond Doss is more compelling a screen character than even Passion of the Christ’s depiction of Jesus because Doss is allowed to have human conflicts. This film also takes a difficult position and holds to it. War has always been a part of human history. Violence occurs every moment of every day. But the best of us are represented in Desmond Doss about two-thirds of the way through Hacksaw Ridge: a lone figure, having just helped another wounded soldier down the side of the escarpment, turning his back to the camera to hobble back into the lingering cloud of smoke to look for one more.
Below: the real Desmond Doss
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Vermilion Theater @ Boston Center for the Arts
I attended Night Four of Vermilion’s 5 Flight Night performances. The billing read:
Night Four, Wednesday May 17 @ 7pm, BCA. Have you ever found healing in the dark silence or mesmerizing lights inside a theater? Did acting in a story or watching a play ever feel cathartic to you? Join us for a theater therapy experience led by the company's Founding Managing Director - Wisteria Deng (she/her) from Yale University.
We did join her and she was terrific. She engaged the class of about thirty from beginning to end. The time sped by and none of us wanted it to end. Another great event from the Vermilion theater group.
I spoke with Wisteria. This is one remarkable human being. She has a captivating manner.
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Whole Clam Chowder
(4 bowls)
16 little neck clams
1 ½ cup water
Steam clams open and remove, shells discarded
Save 1 1/2 cups of broth
½ oz pancetta/Salt pork/bacon, 1/8” dice
well-render in a 8-cup sauce pan with a small piece of butter to provide some liquidity at the start of the rendering.
in the fat, saute:
1.5 oz cauliflower florets, large-dice, ½”
1.5 oz scallions, large-circles, ½”
1.5 oz celery, large-dice, ½”
season w freshly ground pepper
Add 1 TB butter and 1 TB clam broth if veggies prove too dry to saute without burning
add the clams to the soft veggies and toss to imbue w flavor
add 1 1/2 cups of clam broth
bring to a simmer
add 1 ½ cups of oat milk
bring to a simmer
turn off heat
Sprinkle two large scallions cut into circles
top w pat of butter
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Chuckles and Thoughts
"Why do they lock gas station bathrooms? Are they afraid someone will clean them?"
Blow it up!
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Social Life
I have finished a very busy ten days of socializing. In front of me is a calendar that I may tweak to get a couple of additional appointments or give myself some extra quiet days.
I’m not sure which I will choose. of course, if I get an offer I will take it. It’s like never passing an opportunity to pee.
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Mail and other Conversation
We love getting mail, email, or texts, including links.
Send comments to domcapossela@hotmail.com
text to 617.852.7192
This from friend and the well we often dip into for advice, Howard D:
Hi Dom
I have perused the May 7 issue for likely the last time for now (having read it several times prior to publication).
The whole ezine is shaping up very nicely. It has increasing amounts of substance. Even its own brand of substantial attempts at humor (there are more notions in the world of what is funny than Ecclesiastes tells us there are books—“the making of which there is no end”), but neither here nor there. And an increasingly diverse mix of interests is covered, which is a good thing by way of building an audience.
I was struck by the usual thoughtful sagacity and advisory caution of Brother Jim P., who shares his prudent reserve for the wisdom of leaving decisions up to any regulatory body, but especially the government. As a civilization, humans have been wisely dubious of the potential depredations and predations of government going back, at least, to Plato.
Excessive or unmindful regulation is, of course, not advisable. Probably ever, but especially when dealing with emerging technologies whose capacities and potentialities in practice likely will exceed (if they don’t already in some cases) the human capacity for ethical oversight. LLM technology has already proven close to being beyond humans' intellectual ability to process data and extract anything remotely cogent in real-time.
This is why we have, for just two, the agencies of the FDA and the National Safety Board, whose remits cover the interests and risks of the most significant number of citizens, regardless of demography and social status. It’s usually the invocation of abstract notions (which have an admirable and desirable Platonic sheen to the noble goals for humanity they represent), like freedom of speech and freedom of action, that are signifiers of rather more earthly objectives, specifically around politics—how we manage our behavior to keep us from acting like unencumbered ravening beasts. And the idea of freedom doubtless must be preserved because, in the most abstract of considerations, it is precious beyond measure.
But who has the insight, wisdom, knowledge, and rapidity of thought necessary to keep pace with the increasingly unpredictable outcomes of the unfettered behavior of over eight billion people and that many more diverse creatures on a boundless ungovernable planetary habitat? Not our politicians, not reliably our leaders and governors, not even our most brilliant scientists and technologists, and even not our artists and spiritual leaders, putting aside the possibly redemptive anodyne quality of visionary sight.
It's a complex question or set of questions with an even more complex system of answers, few of which are actionable because unknown.
But I’m still afraid, for all the powerful good intentions of embracing the tenets of a skeptical citizenry, about who gets to say no, there must be some regard for somehow formulating a workable strategy for continuing to keep us from annihilating ourselves. From the moment our evolutionary embodiments, imperfect as they are, crawled out of the sea, we hope they constantly continue to adjust and adapt for more optimal efficacy in preventing disaster.
H
And this from niece Lisa M: fresh from her great story on forest bathing:
Nicely done! Interesting articles and thoughtful comments.
Hoping I've seen the last of that stupid Buddha hot dog joke.... it's a total "Dad" joke wihich is not a good thing LOL!
Lisa
Korean Drama: Mr. Sunshine
Synopsis
Mr. Sunshine centers around Eugene Choi (Lee Byung-hun), who was born into slavery in Joseon (Korea). After escaping to the United States at the time of the 1871 Shinmiyangyo, he becomes a Marine Corps officer.
When he returns to Joseon for a mission, Eugene meets and falls in love with an aristocrat's granddaughter, Go Ae-shin (Kim Tae-ri), who is part of the Righteous Army. However, their love is challenged by their different classes and the presence of Kim Hui-seong (Byun Yo-han), a nobleman who has been Ae-shin's betrothed since childhood. Eugene also encounters Gu Dong-mae (Yoo Yeon-seok), a ruthless samurai, and Kudo Hina (Kim Min-jung), owner of the popular "Glory Hotel". At the same time, he discovers a plot by the Empire of Japan to colonize Korea and soon becomes embroiled in the fight for his birth country's sovereignty.
Upon its final broadcast, Mr. Sunshine was the third highest-rated drama in Korean cable television history, with the last episode reaching 18.129% and netting an average rating of 12.955%, the highest average rating ever recorded for cable television at the time.[9] While it received critical acclaim for cinematography and storytelling, as well as its strong female characters and portrayal of the lower classes, the series also received a certain amount of criticism for what was perceived as inaccurate representation of historical facts, with some accusing it of being "pro-Japanese", while others argued that it actually enforced stereotypes of the Japanese as villains and the Americans as heroes.
Mr. Sunshine is a 2018 South Korean television series written by Kim Eun-sook and directed by Lee Eung-bok [ko], starring Lee Byung-hun, Kim Tae-ri, Yoo Yeon-seok, Kim Min-jung, and Byun Yo-han. The series is set in Hanseong (present-day Seoul) in the early 1900s, and focuses on activists fighting for Korea's independence. The series aired every Saturday and Sunday on tvN starting from July 7, 2018, and ended on September 30, 2018. It premiered internationally on Netflix.
This is a poster for the 2018 South Korean television series Mr. Sunshine. The poster art copyright is believed to belong to the distributor of the television series, tvN, the publisher of the television series or the graphic artist.
Sam Preffer tribute
Lisa Mediano
On this Memorial Day, I want to pay tribute to our best friend’s deceased dad, Sam Preffer, who was a World War 2 veteran and lived to be 100 years ago.
When I met Sam, he had just moved in with his son and wife (our best friends) locally after living in Florida. He was 99 and could no longer drive or live alone - yes you heard me right. He was driving and living the high life independently, from his over 55 years old condo community in Tamarac Florida. An unfortunate fall put an end to his autonomy, and he reluctantly gave up the sun and fun for life back in New England. Sam grew up in Queens, and served in WW2 when he was a young unmarried man. He didn’t talk much about his time as a soldier, but he carried a sense of pride and patriotism about having participated in the War. He loved this country to an astounding degree and was thankful for all his blessings of family and friends.
During the time he was living with our friends, the four of us got together for movie night, where each time one of us got to pick the movie on a rotational basis. Sam sometimes joined in and sat on a chair behind us until he nodded off about 10 or 15 minutes into the movie. On the night it was my husband David’s pick, he chose The Wolf of Wall Street. Sam decided he wanted to watch the movie with us, and sat in his usual chair. The movie started and when the explicit scenes popped up on the screen, I died! The Catholic girl in me was mortified, and I was embarrassed that Sam would see it. We turned around hoping Sam had nodded off per usual, but lo and behold, he was wide awake and all perked up!!! I asked him if he liked the movie and he enthusiastically replied that he was enjoying himself. What a hoot!!! He stayed up for the entire movie.
When he turned 100 years old, he was feted by the town with a military parade and party at our friend’s house, and received all the due respect he should as one of the oldest living WW2 vets at the time. I concocted a fictional potion that we passed out to the guests who attended this momentous occasion, and wrote a silly poem:
SAM’S CENTENNIAL ELIXIR
O, what magic potion is this?
If I fail to believe in it, what hope will I miss?
Sam is a hundred and still filled with love for the USA
Imagine that, over a century give or take a day;
Through 2 world wars and endless national sorrows
Sam believes that America will always have a tomorrow.
Endless optimism for his beloved home of the free and the brave
His ancestral Poland/Ukraine is nice, but the USA is his fave.
So when you despair or think America is on its death knell
Open Sam’s Centennial Elixir and partake of its smell.
And you will inhale the life, love and patriotism of this wonderful man.
Believe it, it works… I should know, I’m his biggest fan!
So if you are down and lose all hope to the point of despair
Let Sam’s potion help; you will lose all bitterness and fear.
Hat’s off to you my dear Sam, the eternal patriot
Your elixir will be saved for times when we really need it!
Last year, when we were in Florida our friends called us to tell us he had passed. I was heartbroken as we had gotten to know him very well and loved his spunk and positive attitude. But we mostly laugh about that movie night and Sam’s embrace of the brilliance of Martin Scorcese (at least I think he was appreciating the talent of the director but maybe not!). Thank you Sam for your service and love.
Each and everyone of us bows his/her head to you, remembering
”Old soldiers never die; they just fade away.”
*The Blog Meister selects the topics for the Lead Picture and the Short Essay and then leans heavily on Wikipedia and ChatGPT to provide the content. The Blog Meister usually edits the entries.
**Community Pictures with Captions are sent in by our followers. Feel free to send in yours to domcapossela@hotmail.com
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!