DEAD BEFORE THE THE SHIP WAS EVEN SUNK*

A BRIDGE TOO FAR


I remember watching the movie ‘A Bridge Too Far’ on the telly and how heroic the Allied Forces were in the face of a bad plan that was made worse by the ineptitude of the British leadership. Since I was already reading the Time-Life WW II books and watching ‘The World At War’ on Channel 4 back in Detroit (since the 7-8 p.m. hour is local affiliate time, WWJ had a rotation of shows that air during the week, including ‘Wild Kingdom’ and George Perot’s travel show), my affection for the military would only become more entrenched watching it. What stood out was the how quickly, almost instantaneously, Operation Market Garden unraveled.


Kind of like a certain concept that I put into development and have moved into application. Before I get comments about ‘gloom and doom’, I would caution you, my beloved reader-friends, that I tend to use the harsh self-analysis to insure that I am not getting full of myself. While I don’t want to lapse into parody here, honestly, this move has been executed about as well as Field Marshal Montgomery’s plan to push the beleaguered German forces far back across the Rhine. With that said, I am plenty angry about what happened recently. While I have absolutely never been anywhere NEAR at fault in any accident, this has been the first time since I have retired that my head hit as hard as it did during this one. My helmet’s foam had a crack from the impact and I only can remember that Nebraska came and stood by my bedside while I was being treated. What anyone said and who was on the staff… If I am anything right now, it is this… I am angry.

Not for a minute have I let my self-victimization rise above the creative hyperbole that you read here. I can allow for a lot of karma … but this is something else entirely. Finding the words to describe what I got through daily has been difficult because my ego had not bought into the conditions. So I don’t remember this as well and it takes me longer to read stuff… I did not let any of that keep me from coming up with ambitious goals to shoot for. Even when it comes to going to school and eventually getting back on the grid by finding a job with a degree in hand… maybe even cobbling together enough of my missives for a series of essays, or find the inspirations for short stories or a novel perhaps. Right now, I am simply angry. And my head hurts.