On Friday, July 4, 2008, Jil, Dana and Lynn roared into Los Angeles in their lime green O.U.T.R.A.G.E. motorhome to march in one final parade. The "National Parade of Honor" had been a phenomenal success, as more than 220 parades were organized in over 200 cities and towns across the country. A virtual ghost town since the 9.4 earthquake struck, Los Angeles still managed to bring several thousand people together for this Independence Day celebration. It had been planned by several area VFW and American Legion posts as a tribute to American veterans, and as testament to the greatness of the American spirit, even in times of the worst adversity.
Veterans proudly marched through the devastated downtown area of L.A., some with the help of canes or walkers, others in wheelcairs or motorized scooters. But they marched.....
Here were the true heroes of America's many military conflicts over the past fifty years. They weren't pompous politicians who never faced the wrong end of an enemy sniper's rifle. They weren't glittery movie stars or highfalutin', puffed-up millionaire celebrities who pranced around like waxed mannequins, never knowing strife or hardship. These were hard-working, modest, honest, honorable men and women who had served their country out of a sense of duty and patriotic fervor. Now, many of them faced their golden years in poverty and aloneness, forgotten by their countrymen all because they weren't the flamboyant types that demanded fame and fortune. All they wanted was to be remembered for what they did. All they wanted was recognition for their humble and courageous service to God and country. They were proud, not pretentious.
Many of them were old, too old to be of much remaining value to their communities. Some of them were homeless, too poor and unstable to be of value to themselves after returning from the horrors of war. Most of them were just 'common' people, too 'common' to ever be the subject of a spotlight or the topic of a column in the L.A. Times.
The parade lasted four hours, and at its end near the famed "Hollywood" sign, Jil had planned an extravagant fireworks display to mark America's 232nd year of Independence.
Misfortune befalls us all at various times in our lives. God seems to dish out larger portions of bad luck to some more than others. "God never gives us more than we can handle" might sound encouragingly philosophical to some; to others, it's just a pile of patronizing psycho-poop. Lynn was one of those who had seen some of that poop come her way. Now approaching her early 60's, she had been the victim of a ruthless corporate downsizing less than two years ago. Just weeks after suffering a mild stroke, she learned that the company she worked for had been sold. Her new employer callously informed her that just ten days before Christmas, she would no longer have a job. Nor would she have any kind of severance package; her pension was dissolved; the employer's share of her 401k had been taken away. At age 57, she had few job prospects, particularly in her field of expertise. Thrown to the streets like table scraps tossed to a hungry dog, Lynn had gone through two years of hardship. It was only when her friend, Jil, invited her to join the O.U.T.R.A.G.E. parade project that Lynn fully returned to the vital, vibrant, vivacious vamp she'd always been. Like millions of Americans who had been victims of corporate bankruptcies or buy-outs, downsizings, layoffs, or jobs being shipped to India, Lynn lost more than an income. She lost a large part of her being. Too many Americans defined their lives by what they did for a living; now Lynn had been given the opportunity to participate in an event that had changed lives. The 'National Parade of Honor' had been one of the most notable successes of O.U.T.R.A.G.E., thanks to the diligence and discipline of Jil, Dana and Lynn. True, there had been some raucous revelry along the way, but as Lynn always said, "If you don't have any fun in your life, you sure as hell won't have any fun at all after you're dead!"
Like so many of America's forgotten war veterans, millions of American workers had also been displaced, replaced, or misplaced. Ruthless corporate 'fat cats' looked out for themselves and their shareholders while paying scant attention to the core associates who actually made things happen within the company. To "save money" executives replaced American workers with cheap labor in India, China or Malaysia, all so there was more slush funded for executive perks, bonuses, and retirement packages (rarely did cost-saving initiatives ever result in lower costs to the consumer). America was full of homeless, hungry, unemployed, underemployed, hopeless and hapless veterans and workers. In a land of such wealth, it seemed shameful that so many good people were living on the edge. The 'National Parade of Honor' had returned value and significance to the lives of these hopeless, hapless millions. O.U.T.R.A.G.E. had helped restore a sense of self-pride and had refreshed the spirit of the masses. Happy Birthday, America! Now, let's blow out the candles and get this party started!
Veterans proudly marched through the devastated downtown area of L.A., some with the help of canes or walkers, others in wheelcairs or motorized scooters. But they marched.....
Here were the true heroes of America's many military conflicts over the past fifty years. They weren't pompous politicians who never faced the wrong end of an enemy sniper's rifle. They weren't glittery movie stars or highfalutin', puffed-up millionaire celebrities who pranced around like waxed mannequins, never knowing strife or hardship. These were hard-working, modest, honest, honorable men and women who had served their country out of a sense of duty and patriotic fervor. Now, many of them faced their golden years in poverty and aloneness, forgotten by their countrymen all because they weren't the flamboyant types that demanded fame and fortune. All they wanted was to be remembered for what they did. All they wanted was recognition for their humble and courageous service to God and country. They were proud, not pretentious.
Many of them were old, too old to be of much remaining value to their communities. Some of them were homeless, too poor and unstable to be of value to themselves after returning from the horrors of war. Most of them were just 'common' people, too 'common' to ever be the subject of a spotlight or the topic of a column in the L.A. Times.
The parade lasted four hours, and at its end near the famed "Hollywood" sign, Jil had planned an extravagant fireworks display to mark America's 232nd year of Independence.
Misfortune befalls us all at various times in our lives. God seems to dish out larger portions of bad luck to some more than others. "God never gives us more than we can handle" might sound encouragingly philosophical to some; to others, it's just a pile of patronizing psycho-poop. Lynn was one of those who had seen some of that poop come her way. Now approaching her early 60's, she had been the victim of a ruthless corporate downsizing less than two years ago. Just weeks after suffering a mild stroke, she learned that the company she worked for had been sold. Her new employer callously informed her that just ten days before Christmas, she would no longer have a job. Nor would she have any kind of severance package; her pension was dissolved; the employer's share of her 401k had been taken away. At age 57, she had few job prospects, particularly in her field of expertise. Thrown to the streets like table scraps tossed to a hungry dog, Lynn had gone through two years of hardship. It was only when her friend, Jil, invited her to join the O.U.T.R.A.G.E. parade project that Lynn fully returned to the vital, vibrant, vivacious vamp she'd always been. Like millions of Americans who had been victims of corporate bankruptcies or buy-outs, downsizings, layoffs, or jobs being shipped to India, Lynn lost more than an income. She lost a large part of her being. Too many Americans defined their lives by what they did for a living; now Lynn had been given the opportunity to participate in an event that had changed lives. The 'National Parade of Honor' had been one of the most notable successes of O.U.T.R.A.G.E., thanks to the diligence and discipline of Jil, Dana and Lynn. True, there had been some raucous revelry along the way, but as Lynn always said, "If you don't have any fun in your life, you sure as hell won't have any fun at all after you're dead!"
Like so many of America's forgotten war veterans, millions of American workers had also been displaced, replaced, or misplaced. Ruthless corporate 'fat cats' looked out for themselves and their shareholders while paying scant attention to the core associates who actually made things happen within the company. To "save money" executives replaced American workers with cheap labor in India, China or Malaysia, all so there was more slush funded for executive perks, bonuses, and retirement packages (rarely did cost-saving initiatives ever result in lower costs to the consumer). America was full of homeless, hungry, unemployed, underemployed, hopeless and hapless veterans and workers. In a land of such wealth, it seemed shameful that so many good people were living on the edge. The 'National Parade of Honor' had returned value and significance to the lives of these hopeless, hapless millions. O.U.T.R.A.G.E. had helped restore a sense of self-pride and had refreshed the spirit of the masses. Happy Birthday, America! Now, let's blow out the candles and get this party started!
posted by Bushwacker! at 4:30 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home