Texas Recliner

  

August 6, 1945: 0815

I was not alive on August 6, 1945, but events on that day have made a mental scar in my psyche nonetheless.

My school books all told me that the bomb was dropped to end the war with Japan and save American lives. Maybe it did. But, I wonder, if an American soldier was asked "back then" if it would be acceptable to bomb thousands upon thousands of babies and young children in exchange for less U.S. military casualties, would he agree? Perhaps that is an unfair question for someone who faced war atrocity every day for months on end. I have never been in the military. I have never lost someone really close to me to war. I have the luxury of being an armchair critic.

"...in [July] 1945... Secretary of War Stimson, visiting my headquarters in Germany, informed me that our government was preparing to drop an atomic bomb on Japan. I was one of those who felt that there were a number of cogent reasons to question the wisdom of such an act. ...the Secretary, upon giving me the news of the successful bomb test in New Mexico, and of the plan for using it, asked for my reaction, apparently expecting a vigorous assent.

"During his recitation of the relevant facts, I had been conscious of a feeling of depression and so I voiced to him my grave misgivings, first on the basis of my belief that Japan was already defeated and that dropping the bomb was completely unnecessary, and secondly because I thought that our country should avoid shocking world opinion by the use of a weapon whose employment was, I thought, no longer mandatory as a measure to save American lives. It was my belief that Japan was, at that very moment, seeking some way to surrender with a minimum loss of 'face'. The Secretary was deeply perturbed by my attitude..."
Dwight Eisenhower, Mandate For Change, pg. 380

I still remember my initial shock and horror of learning about Hiroshima and Nagasaki. How could MY government have committed such an atrocity? That history book chapter was a turning point in my civil education. It was far easier to read about the heroics of the American soldiers who freed the Nazi death camp occupants, more sane to study strategy and "theaters" of the war than to see the horrible aftermath of Little Boy and Fat Man. I was no longer the little naive flag-waving girl at a Memorial Day parade. The destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki was not brave, certainly not heroic.

The people in charge of any country who make these monumental decisions of who lives and who dies, sitting in their safe and secure governmental offices with nice clean clothes and climatized settings, need to remember soldiers and civilians are living breathing beings and not to be considered "acceptable collateral damages".

Then again, if the "man in charge" - of whatever nationality, considered that easy concept, war might become obsolete.

On this somber anniversary of Hiroshima, I truly hope mankind does not forget, does not let the passing years soften and blur the images of atomic war. If there is any silver lining to this lesson, it is the knowledge gained of how easily we could totally destroy a living breathing planet and all its lifeforms.

I tremble that we have not yet learned our lesson.

Give Mr. Shattuck His Hat - Just Don't Toss It On A Bed

The Texas summer sun is brutal and a broad-brimmed hat is not a luxury- it's a necessity when outdoors for any length of time. Kman knows the value of a Texas Toupee and wears his palm leaf hat religiously in the summertime.

Nice thing about palm leaf hats - you can wet 'em and squish 'em and do it all over again tomorrow. Kman prefers a Gus Hat. Anyone with hat savvy knows the real name for that particular type of crease and it is not printable on MY blog - I hate it. "Gus Hat" works just fine.

Lots of younger cowboy wannabes sport what I like to call the Go To Hell Hat - ugly as the day is long, and gives a goofy swaggerin' look to the wearer (go figger - it's Sawyer Brown):



Not exactly the best hat for shade now is it?

Now as much as I love ol' Hank, I can't say the same for his choice of western fedora:




But, here's a performer who really knows how to wear a Texas cowboy hat:



And this is what those Georgia Cowboys all wear - at least one of 'em *grin*:



Last, but never least, I guess this might be representative of what Floridian Cowboys wear ( or maybe a downunda wonda?)

Adventures of Off Roader Woman

 




Today Kman and I took a step in the right direction to driving green. We bought one of these little mean machines that can operate on "Willie Fuel". Traded in the gas suckin' Expedition.




The Jeep website says with good driving habits you can get almost 500 miles to the tank (holds 20 gallons) - although I suspect those ratings are for highway driving and not stop and go MetroMess jackrabbiting.

I also see this as a chance to take those roads less traveled, maybe in the bowels of the Bend where we can explore a little more. I am not an advocate of opening roads up in pristine areas of national or state parks, but the Bend has a fair number of driveable trails if you have 4WD and high clearance. (Last time I checked I believe my DOD security clearance rating was in jeopardy of bein' revoked for wadin' too far into the Rio Grande River at Boquillas Canyon. I was seen conversing with the Enemy by a park ranger.)

I have never owned a diesel, but I am really enjoying the responsiveness of the steering and the growl of the turbo when I take off. Ask me again in a month or two if that fun little grumble is still cute. I will, however, enjoy knowing that I am polluting less and getting better mile for the buck...that's about what it averaged with the Expedition.

Just before trading in vehicles, I drove the Expedition to one of those fancy car washes where for a mere $40 you can make the inside of your 7 year-old vehicle shine and smell like new - sorta. While waiting for my car to be ready, I struck up a conversation with a man in the waiting-for-your-car room. He was telling me about his new pick-up - a Nissan, I think. I commented that I was in the process of buying a new Jeep Liberty 4WD CRD. He looked at me for a long moment, and said somewhat puzzled:

"You don't look like an off-roader kinda lady."

What kinda crap is that? Did someone forget to tell me the sport required a uniform? A tattoo? A teeshirt?