Yeah, it’s internet shouting but I sure love her. Happy Birthday, Mom.
Your favorite oldest son sends his love.
(It’s my blog and I’ll do what I want. Besides, there’s another post coming up later today.)
Larry the Bear sends his regards as well.
I’m a vet. Yeah, I babble about it a bit too much. But if there is a vet anywhere who doesn’t think that their time in the military wasn’t one of the greatest influences in their life I haven’t met them yet.
This morning I have on my dad’s watch in honor of the Marine Corps birthday.
Dad's watch.
The next picture sits on the plate rail in my dining room. (Yes, we were both undesignated E-3 students in our wedding photo.)
My wedding photo - she's a beauty!
I could not be more proud of my service. I was blessed by God to serve a great nation with good people. Many of whom are no longer here today to enjoy a discount at a restaurant or a thank you from a grateful citizen. And many more suffer from injuries, both physical and mental, much more profound than my creaky damaged parts and lousy hearing. I’m up and about. I’m one of the fortunate ones.
I won’t ramble too much today but I do ask that you salute the vets that you meet along the path in your life. Don’t wait for November 11th each year, do it every day. They are the true 1%.
And if you ever wore the uniform: Thanks. I’m grateful to you. Doesn’t matter if you cooked in a kitchen in Kansas, served in Vietnam, flew over the Gulf of Sidra, or handed out sick-call chits to malingerers in Florida. You served. Be proud of that and enjoy the day.
I salute all of those who are now serving, have honorably served in the past, or will honorably serve in the future in the United States Marine Corps.
I hoist a tankard of ale from Tun’s Tavern to the “Shores of Tripoli” and all the places where my brothers in arms in the finest Naval Infantry outfit in the universe have laid down their lives for this country and each other. May they rest in peace.
There is a special brotherhood in the Corps. 
I served in the Navy but my Dad was a retired Marine. The man earned advanced degrees and was eventually a major player in the Saint Paul Schools. But until the day he died he was first, and foremost, Staff Sergeant Oliver Courtemanche, U.S.M.C. Retired. Scratch him and he bled that amazing Scarlet that belongs only to the Marines.
I have other friends that are Marines. And they are all proud of that background. They should be – wimps need not apply. They are forever part of that organization. And, as I point out each year, I am envious of their camaraderie and sense of history. So, with an especially hale shout, I thank my Father Oliver Courtemanche, his best friend Harold Schwartz, Francis Brown, Frank the scrounger, George Heatherington, Paul Sharpe, General Hanlon, Gunnery Sergeant Smith, Lieutenant Colonel Bob Stephenson U.S.M.C. Ret, Tolor White, Dusty Liston (Sergeant of Marines and Mother of fine Daughters), Sergeant Dave Vig, Rick at Mickey’s, Staff Sergeant Gordon Goetz, Sergeant Clyde Smith, Mark and Josh from D.L.I. whose last names the years have vaporized, Sergeant Mark Herzog, Master Gunnery Sergeant George Gubko U.S.M.C. Retired, and the hundreds of other members of the Marine Corps I have served with in joint commands, schools, the workplace, and Toys – For -Tots. To a person, I love you all and honor you this day. (All ranks where as of when I knew them. I’m sure more than one went on to be Commandant. If not, the Corps screwed up somewhere.)
Semper Fi, Marines.
**This is NOT a political post**
It’s been a few days since the election and I hope both sides have had a chance to calm down.
While I write this the sun is coming up over the horizon, there’s a pile of scrambled eggs and assorted breakfast stuff inside me and a large coffee waiting to join the rest. I was able to worship Jesus this morning. I, who would be considered an enemy of the state in many nations, didn’t fear jackbooted thugs kicking in my door when I awoke. Life goes on for America.
Lest anyone forget this nation has the greatest personal freedom in history, and regardless of it’s diminution over the last decade or two, it’s still #1. We all have an obligation to keep it that way. Part of that is listening to the ridiculous ranting and raving of the other side. And that goes for all sides. No matter who you are, what political opinions you hold, you should at least let the other fool spout their drivel.
“But what I say isn’t drivel and your words are hurtful.” That may be so. But let the market place of ideas decide. George Washington and Ronald Reagan would both agree with that sentiment so it’s good enough for me. You might be a complete jerk, and I the mirror image of you. That doesn’t mean that I’m not a jerk as well, just that I’m 180 out from you.
So, take another deep breath and worship God for letting you live in the United States of America.
You might wonder why this post today? I was at a McDonald’s where all of the staff except 1 person spoke Spanish. I speak Spanglish so I knew what was going on in the conversations. One of the workers said, in English, “I’m in America and I’m free!” Their voice was joyful. It wasn’t sarcasm but a spontaneous expression of joy for having a job and not being opressed. The single non-Spanish speaking employee said, “I’m not. She’s crazy.” Really? You can still say that in the United States and not go to jail. I think you’re more free than you know, young fellow.
Let’s appreciate the fact that Christianity is not an illegal religion here. That we can vote and our happiness isn’t tied to the state’s whim and who we supported in the election.
What are you thankful for today? You don’t have to wait until Thanksgiving to appreciate how good you have it here. Even our poor are rich in comparison to most nations. Do you have a secret place in your heart that joy is waiting to burst from like the young woman at McDonald’s? Why not share that joy with someone today?
And, as always, thank you for dropping by to read this.
When this posts I’ll already be wandering around a cow barn in Wisconsin wearing a Santa suit. Yes, it may be the perfect place for my intellect to mature but I’m there to film a television commercial. We’ll also be at a cheese factory. 
Wednesday is prep day for shooting the commercial. I must ready my already put-together Santa suit and rebuild another that is partially complete in a suit bag. The worst part of it is preparing new synthetic fur for the trim. One word covers that task – tedious.
Following the excitement of doing the fur I will have to shine my boots to a mirror image, shave my fat head, and Brasso my belt buckle. All of the veterans in the group just groaned when they read that word. Trust me, you never escape Brasso once you’ve opened the first container in your military career.
Wednesday I will get up very early and reshave my head. (You have to do it two days running or the scalp looks funny on camera.) I will take a long shower, blow-dry the beard and apply makeup. A little Ben Nye’s Snow White for the beard and I’m ready to go.
The drive to Wisconsin should be fun, I’m working with a good director/producer on the spots. We’ve done things together before and he’s a fine gentleman. I know I’ll be treated well and have a good time.
The script is pretty charming. It should sell a whole bunch of cheese for Christmas if I do my job well. Jim Snapko (the director) is a pro and he’ll make me look good.
My only concern is this darned flu that’s hanging on. I’m barely up and about today. Last night was restless and nightmare filled. I don’t place much stock in dreams but last night’s makes sense – I lost my girl dog on a road trip and barely found her before the tornadoes came. Old dogs sleeping next to the bed fill one with comfort and sadness at the same time. I’m tearing up just thinking about her passing. But it’s coming soon and the dream reflects that fact. I’ve just got to be a man and not be selfish when the time comes. Pray for me.
Well, when the commercial is done I’ll either post it here or put up a link. Remember, no time like the present to subscribe to the blog. It’s at the upper right! You must subscribe to be eligible for the extra content/contests/used bed sheets that are available only to subscribers.
The question for today (and my good friend Raj said any decent blog ends with a question – so go read her blog next) is what sleeping dog is occupying your dreams? And why don’t you take the time to rub their tummy and enjoy the love in life while you can?
