Labor Day Weekend and Patton

Labor Day weekend. The traditional, if not actual, end of summer. No white pants on Tuesday.

Sometimes I wonder why we don’t change our calendar to make September 1 the New Year. I mean, if we are going to arbitrarily have a date to roll over the number of years that have passed, why not do that and have it be in synch with all the things that happen around this time of year? Vacations are over. People of all ages (myself included) are going back to school.

Here is another place in which I think the Jewish religion has it right. I mean, Rosh Hashanah will be at the end of this week as Jews world wide begin their year of 5771. It just fits better.

I’m focused on new things right now. New classes (Econ and Management – yoohoo!). A potential new business opportunity. What can I do with the yard, because I have to plan if I’m going to plant bulbs, trees, etc. New paint for the dormer windows. A new look for the kitchen (got rid of the curtains which were literally rotting). So much about the season of Autumn, if you will, is about things coming to an end. In the northern hemisphere of this great planet of ours, things are beginning to die. Leaves are starting to come down. The evenings are cooler. The weeds aren’t growing as fast. The acorns are falling off the oak trees so that the squirrels can do with them whatever they do with them. Maybe my new year thing is more appropriate for the southern half of the world. Of course, that’s also where so much growth is right now – economically, in population, etc., etc.

On a totally different topic – Dad tonight cracked me up. One of the fun things right now is being an adult with him, not just being his son. One of our tasks is to try to help find things that he can enjoy. With the addition of the proverbial big screen TV in the house, and Netflix streaming on-line, we can watch an entire repertoire of movies that normally we wouldn’t have access to. The other night it was “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes.” Somehow he managed to stay awake through the whole thing.

Dad is a WWII vet. Barely. He enlisted in the Navy early in 1945 so that he wouldn’t be drafted on his 18^th birthday. His dad had to sign him in. In July of that year, shortly after that milestone birthday celebration, he was shipped off to Great Lakes Naval Base for basic training. He saw action in places like Galveston and the US Virgin Islands. He did spend years in the Reserve, but was never called up for Korea or any other “action.” Thank God.

His older brothers however saw their own share of stuff. Dad was the youngest of five. Number one died in an industrial accident in 1937. Number four was in the Pacific and actually saw the atomic tests on Bikini Atoll. Number three was a fighter pilot in the Navy in the Pacific. And then number two.

Who essentially was number one after 1937. He was in the US Army – more specifically Patton’s army. He was not in the initial wave that went ashore at Normandy, but came in right afterwards. Legend has it that he and my grandmother’s cousin were on opposite sides of the river in the same battle at some point. There are lots of stories which have been shared, and many more which I’m sure remained private and went to the grave with all these guys. Dad is the last one.

So tonight, we downloaded and watched the first half of “Patton.” George C. Scott. None of us had ever seen it. It is a classic, and quite an amazing flick. About an hour into it, as something was happening in the movie, Dad clears his throat and issues the following pronouncement: “Fred said that when he was with Patton, they had blown up a bridge going over the Rhine. And Patton went out on the bridge, pulled out his dick, and pissed into the Rhine River.”

For tonight, I have nothing more to say, except that I never expected to hear my dad say anything like that.