Homebodies at War: Conquer your Grapefruit, Conquer your Fear

Since 2001 and during many times prior, America has been at war. This obviously involves young people sacrificing life and limb for a cause that is theoretically critical to our well-being at home. Regardless of the wars purpose or execution, the daily circumstances of a combat soldier are astonishing, and their service (when honorable) is beyond reproach.

Throughout this recent decade of conflict, I am periodically struck by the psychological distance that we "homebodies" maintain towards the reality of such far flung battles. Much of this current disconnect is clearly structured within the modern culture, given the absence of a draft, the craftsmanship of political messaging, and fragmented fizzle of corporate held media. But the divide is also self-directed, quite naturally, by the overwhelming resiliency of American apathy (a force so thoroughly tested over the last ten years, only Pixar could imagine a way to destroy it). Collectively, the results are sad, of course, that many Americans still believe that Saddam Hussein authored 9/11, or that Hamid Karzai is an energy drink. But equally of consequence, I submit, is a perpetual and two-fold laziness of perspective: one, the type that renders errant grapefruit squirt to be a drama of "collateral damage." The other, the type that succumbs to fear.

Said different, I believe that a more fundamental awareness of war would help quell our habitual conditions of petty and profound discomfort; and that to conquer these conditions, however fleeting or infrequently, is a far more patriotic gesture than tying a yellow ribbon around a tree.

My premise is simple:

Many moons ago, I was engrossed by the Ken Burns film "The War," a documentary about the experience of fighting in WWII. Of particular interest to me, were the remembrances from those who survived "D-Day" -- the lionized invasion of Normandy which claimed seven out of every ten men served. To absorb the footage and listen to the memories of those stunning moments, when marines advanced the beach in armored pontoons and then marched directly onto the shores of certain fire, it was EPIPHANY GALORE! I had discovered the power of juxtaposition.

From the "greatest generation," one could learn the greatest lesson. When troubled by citrus, think about it. And the next time you see a pretty girl across the bar; the next time a calculated risk confronts your career; the next time a friend might want to hear from you -- go for it.

For the fellow in the fox-hole right now, it's the best way to say thank you.