An internet friend of long standing emailed me yesterday with a link to a Leonard Cohen concert that has been up-loaded to a torrent site. He happened across the link while looking for something else and was kind enough to think of Gloria and me.
I’ve avoided downloading music other than a brief foray into Napster when it was the net-wide concern that provided free downloads. My friend took the time to coach me through initial program acquisition and setup, offered to provide backup service if needed. After a false start I managed to download a good copy of the show, converted it from .flac files to .wav files, and then promptly screwed up all by myself.
The files downloaded with a sequential alpha- numeric label. I promptly edited them into alpha labels, ignoring the numeric component as I had a valid set list for sequencing. What was initially an ordered and complete concert became a bunch of music files arranged in alphabetic order. I can convert the original files I downloaded once more and leave them in alphanumeric labeling, I can simply play the files by using the play list I generated to match the concert set list. The latter is most likely. But I’ll remember not to make this mistake again. FWIW, it was an excellent show and worth the trouble.
Today is the anniversary of the Bolshevik Revolution. October 17th was the date in Russia which had yet to adopt the Gregorian calendar instead of the Julian in use in Russia at the time. I’ve always wondered what would have happened in the USSR if Trotsky had managed to have Stalin purged instead of being ejected himself. No way of knowing, of course.
The weekend is here once again. The television channels will be jammed with various athletic contests. Sports announcers who were once athletes/coaches and others who are simply groupies and camp followers will spend hours providing commentary and color. At some point in the weekend every one of them will use the word “hero” to describe an athlete. And I if I happen to hear it – unlikely except during the inevitable overtime that will delay the non-athletic programming for Sunday evening – I will see red and look for something to imagine throwing at the commentator.
The word “hero” has become, sadly and most likely permanently diluted in this nation and others.” Men and women who excel at some athletic contest have become greatly over-paid role models for youth who see ability at games as their ticket to fame and fortune. These athletes are wrongly described as heroes and the media seems to be unable to avoid reinforcing such a misnomer.
I understand that it takes practice and determination to learn a game’s physical skill sets. I understand that some games involve physical pain while competing and, in some cases, risk of physical injury and even death. But no one begins playing these games believing that they will die during competition. Instead, they begin playing these games hoping for local, regional, and national fame. They hope to win slots in the higher level competition teams that bring with them fame and exorbitant salaries. They hope to become advertising icons, trading their prowess at a game for endorsements. The entire athletic competition structure is greed-driven, filled with men, and women, who like playing games far more than studying, who have been brought up to believe that physical prowess permits them to avoid following laws, to explain away transgressions as due to their famous status, in effect to be celebrated as “heroes” while breaking laws concerning personal behavior, substance abuse, physical violence, and a host of others that would land most citizens in jail at the first commission.
Playing with injuries to avoid losing millions of dollars in salaries and endorsements does not make one a hero. Funneling money into tax dodges disguised as do-good foundations does not make one a hero. Visiting sick children and taking a camera crew along for PR purposes does not equate with heroism. Returning to a team after being suspending for gambling, for violence, for dog fighting, or any of a host of illegal acts does not afford anyone hero status.
Who are the heroes in our society?
The policemen and firefighters who leave home each day, willing to put their lives on the line for the well-being and protection of the people in their community, for precious little pay, are heroes. Every call is potentially a trip toward death for them.
The men and women who make up our armed forces, who willingly place their lives at risk in service of the nation’s need to project force and protect its citizens and borders, are heroes. And their pay is pitiful in light of the risks they assume. The medics who run or crawl out under fire to rescue and treat wounded comrades, the infantrymen who place their bodies between wounded friends and the gunfire of enemies, aircrews who routinely fly into enemy fire to provide close air support or to extract wounded, are all heroes but are seldom recognized as such beyond their units. Coast Guardsmen who perform countless searches and rescues in dangerous waters are heroes.
The civilian police officer who placed her life in jeopardy at Ft. Hood in order to attempt stopping a slaughter by an apparent Moslem extremist is a hero. The unarmed soldiers, men and women, stationed at Ft. Hood who rescued their bleeding comrades from under fire and worked without concern for their own safety to provide first aid and transportation to surgical care and safety are heroes. http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/11/06/AR2009110604350_3.html?hpid=topnews&sid=ST2009110604506
The men and women who make up our poorly-paid volunteer armed forces, who are deployed in multiple combat tours without the chance to recover physically, emotionally, or financially from the previous tours, who sacrifice normal lives to answer a call to serve the nation they believe in are heroes. http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/07/opinion/07herbert.html?ref=opinion
The men and women who fought the last wars and then came home to build and continue their lives despite the damage done to them by their bit of their particular war are heroes. http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/07/opinion/07cleland.html?ref=opinion
Next Wednesday, 11 November, is Veterans’ Day. It is a day set aside by Congress to honor the veterans of our armed forces. It is a day which is supposed to remind us who pays the price of building and maintaining a nation such as ours. It is a day to honor our heroes, those who happened to commit their selfless acts of bravery within sight of someone who lived to recommend them for formal honors, and those who simply did their jobs and took care of their comrades-in-arms. It doesn’t take a medal to make one a hero. No one can honestly set out to become a military hero. Such thoughts cost lives, usually the lives of others. No one wants to serve with, or under, a would-be-hero.
Here’s my wish for Veterans’ Day. I sincerely wish that no “sports” announcer describe any athlete, professional, or at any other farm team level down to middle school as a “hero.” They aren’t, and with rare exception, they will never be.
Bullwinkle’s corner:
No Relief in Sight
There's only one more klick to hump today,
How many times they've fooled me with that lie.
We'll have to hump back out, because it's raining,
The clouds too low to let the choppers fly.
Of course it's only a klick or five,
Of course I know it'll keep us alive,
But I've been doing this for months,
And there's no relief in sight.
The other squads all took their turns at ambush
Your squad will have to go again tonight.
We know they’re somewhere out there, just can't find em,
So go, the Colonel's spoiling for a fight.
Of course, you know you can sleep in late,
We'll just tell Charlie he has to wait.
Hey, don't you know there's a war on,
And there's no relief in sight.
Hey, Doc, you want to help me write some letters, man.
To the families of the troops who just got killed.
I know you're feeling' bad you couldn't save 'em
But, Doc, you know we had to take that hill.
And it doesn't matter, not even a bit,
That we hadn't a single use for it.
We killed some soldiers and flew away,
And there's no relief in sight.
I sit and think of the boys who fell that morning.
Who died when the choppers were tasked to another fight,
Who might have lived if only we could have evac'ed 'em,
Who might be writing their own notes home tonight.
t was dragging the wounded down off the hill,
Tagging and bagging them dead off the hill,
Dragging the bodies off some nameless hill
And there's no relief in sight.
So what did we do, we denied the enemy shelter,
And what did we win; well we took contested ground,
And what of the two platoons we left to follow us off the hill,
Well, they're shaking the trees to knock the dog tags down.
Cause some of the boys are MIA,
Only reported in yesterday,
(They were only cherries, anyway)
I know you lost some friends, but, Hey!
There's no relief in sight
We only assaulted eleven days,
Count up the wounded and KIA's
We won a hell of a victory,
And there's no relief in sight
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