This morning, Jim read to me from NewsMax, a right wing e-newsletter he subscribes to because he firmly believes in balanced reportage, even if he has to seek out the other side (while not as left wing as I am, Jim is probably the most liberal individual I know).
The quote, loosely, was "If you listen to the left wing liberal media, you'd think we should be ashamed of our soldiers."
And I muttered, "No, not the soldiers. Never the soldiers. I'm ashamed of the administration. There's nothing wrong with our soldiers that being home wouldn't cure."
I leave breadcrumbs about my history strewn about this blog. Information about what and who I came from ... and a recent post pointed out I am the daughter of an Air Force officer.
There's sadness connected with his early absence from my life -- through no fault of mine and reasons I can't understand on his part.
But nonetheless, I remember him proudly. I have a vivid memory of him in dress blues ... and I remember being a very proud little girl, proud of this man who stood so straight and seriously told me when I winced at lowflying aircraft over the base, "Don't be scared of that. That is the sound of freedom."
He fought for this country -- shed blood for the U.S. -- and I remember being told how fortunate we are to live in the best country in the world.
It's a sadder, more complicated time now. I choose to believe it is incompetence, rather than malice, that is so deeply wounding this country right now.
We have gone places we should not have gone, with poor policy, poor planning, poor administration ... that have resulted in thousands of American kids dying.
And I have bled out my frustration with sniping remarks on blogs. What good does that do?
I resolve to keep my thoughts to myself -- and within my blog -- from here forward. My feelings on this issue are too serious to be used as sarcastic blogfodder. I am angry at myself for that.
I will write about it again, here. But I will write seriously, as I am doing now. And not waste the thought and the energy through misplaced sarcasm that is rarely understood and that never changes minds.
I won't be able to change minds as I write about it here, either. But I can hope for well-considered, thoughtful understanding from other Americans -- and friends of Americans -- who are as concerned about this country -- without kneejerk lockstepping to the administration's mistakes -- as I am.
And a note on removing comments: as I approach c'est chic's one-year anniversary (with nearly 500 posts), I'm rethinking blogs and my relationship to them.
I'm grateful for all the people I've met through this blog -- and theirs. I have affection for many of you and hope you'll accept my thanks for reading, and for the many kind comments you've made.
I started the blog as a writing exercise, to keep that part of me alive as I prepared for work in a second career.
With the limited time I'll have going forward, it's time for me to reorient the blog to that purpose, of writing for the sake of writing.
And I'm not sure many of you will be that interested, to be honest, in my essay exercises. My perfume treatises. My self-absorbed soul searches. My pickled-in-vinegar political rants.
(How will it be different from what you do now, you ask? I won't be playing to an audience.)
But I thank you for the influence you've had on me, and on the writing. I'm better for it.