I don't know. Maybe I'm still reacting to that pnuemonia shot I had last week. I felt like total crap last night and I went to bed at 11pm (very early for me) and shut my alarm off when it rang at 7:30, and kept on sleeping until 10:15 (which made me VERY late for work). And even after close to 11 hours of sleep, I still felt like crap when I woke up. It's got to be the shot. There's no other excuse.

So, it's Remembrance Day today (Veteran's Day for you US types). Which I didn't remember, of course, until I went to my favorite lunch place to grab some lunch and it was closed. I stood there thinking "what the ..." and then, suddenly it dawned on me. And I felt bad.

Not that I've ever really known anyone who fought or died in a war. Wait, not totally true. T's father fought in WW2. The last time we visited him, before he died (which was only about the 3rd time I ever met him), he spent a whole afternoon telling me stories about being a jeep driver for an officer in Italy and France and, later, Germany. Most of his best stories were about France. How he accidently drove over enemy lines, into occupied territory while trying to find some eggs for his officer's breakfast. How he "captured" two German soldiers walking down a road, and brought one of their side-arms home with him (he showed me this ancient German pistol). How he was captured twice. The first time, he escaped and hid out in this French woman's attic for a month until he could rejoin the Americans (they kept in contact by mail right up until he died) and the second time, how he and some other guys just walked away from the prison camp because the German's were so unorganized.

But that's it. That's pretty much my "relating to war" experience. My father was too young to fight in WW2 (he was 3 when it started), but he grew up with it and romanicized it like nobody's business, and dragged me to a million war movies on Saturday afternoons when I was growing up. My grandfather was too old for WW2, although, back in Holland during WW1, as a young boy, he would ride his bike back and forth through the woods, across enemy lines, delivering secret dispatches. I don't know for which side, although I like to think it was to help the Dutch, not the Germans. He rode into a pole one night in the dark, and the rest of his life he had this really big hole in his shin. Nearly lost his leg.

Remembrance Day usually seems pretty sad and depressing to me (although can a day that is about remembering war be other than that?). T wrote a beautiful song years ago called The Hard Light of November, which is all about old guys all alone in a home, or the legion, remembering their glory days and the deaths of their friends. I think it all means a little more to him, having had his father fight in the war. When he was a kid, his dad would have bad dreams and they were never allowed to wake him up, for fear of what he'd do before he was fully awake. The song he wrote always makes me think of how I feel when I see those parades and flame lighting ceremonies and things. All those very very old men hanging on to those memories, as they disappear one by one (the memories and the men).

I suppose we should be using this day now to think about more recent events. All those poor soldiers who've died in Iraq. But Remembrance Day is supposed to be about remembering those who fought for freedom. Something noble. Is War ever noble? WW2 was supposed to be noble. Was it really, or were people sold a bill of goods? I think it had to be more noble than what's going on today. Hitler was indeed trying to take over a large portion of the world, and they were indeed killing jews and gypsies and queers and lots of other folks.

Maybe we could have another day, one to remember all the poor souls who've died for oil money and greed and fundamentalists of every kind. We could call it "Pointless Conflicts That Go On And On While People Die Day". And we could have a moment of silence to remember those who have fallen. And then a moment of really loud cursing for those who got us in to those situations. Maybe one great big roar of "FUCK YOU" that could be heard around the world.

Whoa - now I'm starting to go to the dark place. See, I told you I'm still having bad reactions to the shot. I'm going to go get a happy cup of coffee now and get back to work.

Love ya all. Mean it.