Our Memorial Day visit to the Iowa Wall
Here’s two things that happened over Memorial Day weekend that I feel bad about. For the past three years, we’ve made a point to go on a large-group ride to our state capitol’s memorial grounds, for a service at the Viet Nam memorial that’s hosted by a local ABATE member. It’s not an official event - just his own personal ride each year - but it has grown quite large. It’s usually held on the Sunday of Memorial Day weekend. Well this year, I didn’t receive any notifications about it like I usually do so on Saturday I went online to check the start time - and discovered it had been held a full week earlier. We missed it!Determined not to miss our own annual “moment of reflection” at the Iowa Wall, we rode up to the capitol on Sunday anyway (what a perfect, beautiful day!) to leave some flowers. As we approached on our (noisy) bikes, we discovered a large crowd gathered around the Viet Nam memorial where we focus our efforts - there was a service in progress! Embarrassed, we coasted as quietly as possible into the parking lot… we cut our engines off as soon as we were positioned to back into a parking spot, and then discovered that they were in the middle of playing “Taps.” Which, ideally, I’m sure they would have liked to have been played with a noiseless background. We felt awful about interrupting the ceremony, having had no idea that it would be taking place.
And, one thing I feel GREAT about: We approached the dispersing group looking as apologetic as possible just as it was breaking up to leave. My husband took the small bunch of silk flowers I’d fashioned and left them at the foot of the wall and then stepped back to study the names. This is, for him, a traditional visit that gives him the opportunity to remember why he carries on despite depression, diabetes, weight problems, divorces, etc. etc - because other guys didn’t get the chance to carry on. As we were standing there, a woman who was there quietly asked him if he knew how many Iowans had died in Viet Nam. We did a quick estimate of the number of names on the wall and guessed it to be about eight hundred. As she turned to walk away she said to him, “Thank you, sir, for your service. I appreciate it.” He was barely able to sqawk a “thank you” in return - he carries enough survivor guilt and all the baggage of a less-than-welcoming return, and to actually have someone thank him for years of service he’d been conditioned not to talk about was almost too much. Having lived with him for almost 18 years now, I know a little something about how much her words might have meant to him, and I believe it was good for him to hear it.
Then a little while later, back at the bikes and getting ready to leave, another woman was visiting with another couple on a bike - the man was wearing his Viet Nam veteran cap, and the other woman was relating a story about her brother who had been killed in combat during that time. Steve and I listened and joined in, Steve and this other man swapped a couple reminiscences. And again, as this woman turned to leave, she said, “Thank you both for your service. It was important and it means a lot.” And again my poor hubby was just ready to cry. This has never happened, I realize. No one has ever said “thank you” or “welcome home” to him.
I’m proud of him in so many ways - for coming out of that horrible time with his head screwed on fairly straight, for having a heart when it would be easy to become bitter, for continuing to be a courageous man who treasures esprit de corps and means it when he tells another marine, “Semper Fidelis.” I think this Memorial Day was really for him, more than any other we’ve shared in our 18 years together.
Welcome home, honey, I’m glad you’re here.
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In the “Just In Case You’re Curious” department, here’s a brief bit about a popular bit of biker leather - chaps! We can all guess that biker chaps have evolved from what the cowboys out on the range historically wore (and still wear), and we’d be right. But, the style bikers like - the kind that zip up the side and cover the entire leg - are only part of the historical picture.Wikipedia says, “The word is recorded in English since 1844, as an abbreviation of chaparajos, from Mexican or Spanish chaparreras. Words with similar background include chaparro or chaparral, the evergreen scrub vegetation that can tear at a rider’s legs and gave rise to the need for chaps.” Styles of chaps include:
I thought that Harley-Davidson was really getting good about engineering their bikes for women… well, not necessarily for women, but doing things to the bikes (lower seat heights, easier-pulling clutches) that made them more appealing to a lot of women. But it’s possible they are still missing a big share of the market. Why? Because they seem stuck on an out-dated notion of “what bikers want.” Business management guru Tom Peters (
I am a shopper. In fact, shopping for bike accessories is one of my favorite past-times. There is, however, a disturbing trend I’ve noticed recently.
If you’ve ever been accused of being a RUB (”rich urban biker”), you’ll love the new Touchstone comedy “Wild Hogs.” The movie stars John Travolta, Tim Allen, Martin Lawrence and William H. Macy as middle-aged friends who decide to kick their weekend riding up a notch and take a cross-country road trip on their Harleys. The trip is frought with comedic peril as the guys encounter swarms of locusts, gay cops, infrequent gas stops, and a burly gang of “real bikers” led by Ray Liotta. Their various motivations for taking the trip all collide in a final showdown with the biker gang, and in the end it takes Peter Fonda to set it all straight. The epilogue that rolls during the closing credits gives us a peek at how the guys are able to have the last word with the bad-ass bikers. A few of the gags in the movie seemed to occur without much setup, so at times it felt a little dis-jointed… but, I had a great time with the guys’ journey and their various mishaps. I’m not too familiar with Macy, but he gave a lot of depth to the nerdy computer programmer Dudley, who tried real hard to be a bad-ass by getting a “tat” and who needed a little more practice on his Sportster. Tim Allen was absolutely loveable as Doug the Dentist, tiring of his cholesterol-conscious diet and facing the notion of growing older. Martin Lawrence - for once out of a gender-altering “Big Mama”-style costume - was delightful if hen-pecked; and Travolta’s growing sense of panic as Liotta’s gang pursues them was hilarious. Early cameos by the Teutels and supporting appearances by Marisa Tomeii and Jill Hennessey were amusing and charming. We had a great time with this movie - sure it was a little predictable, but much of it was laugh-out-loud funny and there were moments that were purely unexpected that made it a blast. Enjoy!
I’m still thinking about Alton Brown. I blogged recently about becoming interested in cooking (at age 44? After 15 years of marriage and family? What can I say, late bloomer!), and mentioned that Alton Brown is one of the program hosts over on Food Network, and that he rides a BMW. He strikes me as the type of person I’d have something to talk about over the super-unleaded nozzles at that tiny gas station outside Rose Creek, MN… bikes, old highways, vanishing Americana… and road food.
January was a particularly mild month around here, and folks are asking me if I got to ride the bike. I did - three different times! - and managed to put a little over 100 miles on it in a month when temps are normally in the teens. The next question always seems to be, “Doesn’t it piss you off to be teased like that?” Meaning, predictions are that Feb. will be closer to normal winter time weather. On the contrary, I’m not pissed at all. Those mild January days were a gift, and I for one took advantage of them as best I could. But I’m a realist: I know that February isn’t normally a month for motorcycles, so I don’t expect the whole winter season to just disappear simply because we got lucky a few times. Having the opportunity to ride in January was exhilirating, and I think I can now hunker back down for a month if necessary safe in the knowledge that the end of February is not too far away and that the next month - March - is Spring.
