I had a totally new experience yesterday. Normally, I shun all interaction with humans. This is why I use the self-checkout whenever it’s available, buy shit online if I can, and drive miles out of my way to avoid 4-way stop signs. I make certain allowances at the dog park because I’m a good dad and will do what I have to for the sake of my boys (plus, other than the Frisbee golfers, the folks at the park are dog people, so they’re mostly OK), but that’s about it. Yesterday, though, at the crack of eight (I’d have been there earlier, but they don’t open ’til 8:00 on Sundays), I went to Home Depot and asked for help. Okay, I guess that’s stretching it a bit. I was walking around looking confused and hostile (confused, because that’s my normal look, and hostile – what Granny calls my “Klingon Look” – in order to discourage people from talking to me) while trying to find something, when one of the Depot Dudes came up and asked me if I needed help, and – here’s the kicker – I said “yeah.” And he actually helped me!

Emboldened by my success, I asked him where I might find something else – and he helped me yet again! I was in and out in record time. In fact, I was kind of meandering aimlessly about the store for a while, trying to figure out what I forgot, ‘cuz I was done so fast. I know this probably sounds trivial to you, but to me, this was stunning. I imagine this must be similar to what happens when you ask somebody for directions (though obviously my Garmin nüvi is a far superior alternative). Oh, sure, I’ve had my wife go get help (she was born rather lacking in the patience department, and will stoop to asking for help at the drop of a hat), but I usually go and hide while she’s doing it, so as not to be exposed to her shame and humiliation, and this is the first time I experienced it directly. Oddly, it wasn’t all that bad. Not that I plan on ever doing it again, of course, and it’s not something I’m proud of, but I reckon it’s good to humble yourself occasionally. Let’s you see how the other half lives. Hell, maybe I’ll even read the directions for the new microwave. Nah.

The only mention of what happened 68 years ago today was that one of the local high school marching bands was going to be honored for having an undefeated season (bands have wins?) as part of “Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day,” and then a quick 60 second segment of black and white stock footage of ships engulfed in smoke and flames. I’m not sure what the two things have to do with each other (congrats to the B’ville Bees Band, though), but doesn’t Pearl Harbor rate something a little more than that? I mean, I was just looking on the CNN and CBS news websites, and there isn’t even a mention (not on their front pages, anyway), though MSNBC at least has something.

For those of you too young to remember (or too young to remember anybody who remembers), more than 2,200 people – sailors, mostly – died on a day that thrust us into a war on both hemispheres simultaneously, and we didn’t abandon the Constitution. Well, except for that whole Japanese internment stuff, but at least they didn’t lock them up and torture them (that we know of), and anyway, in 1988 Ronnie Raygun officially said, “sorry about that.” Unlike people today, folks back then didn’t whine and mope about, blathering mindlessly about how “everything changed,” either, and FDR didn’t tell them to go shopping – he told them to get off their asses and either enlist or buy War Bonds and start crankin’ out ships, tanks, and airplanes. Everything from sugar and gas to butter, rubber, and nylon was rationed for the war effort.

Buy shit? Hell, no, just the opposite. Stop buying shit, ‘cuz we need it “over there!” And by God (who was still alive back then), the people went out and did it – cranking out something like 300,000 airplanes, 85,000 tanks, 30 aircraft carriers (2 “large” ones), 8 battleships, 350 destroyers, and 200 submarines (not to mention a couple of atomic bombs). And people who tried to profit from the war were sent to prison like the criminals they were.

I always thought it was kind of silly that people denounce it for being a “sneak attack,” as if blowing up a couple thousand people would’ve been OK if they’d just sent us a telegram or something first:

COMING TO ATTACK YOUR NAVAL FLEET STOP SHOULD BE THERE EARLY MORNING ON THE SEVENTH IF WEATHER IS OK STOP HAVE A NICE DAY, IMPERIALIST PIGS STOP PS - YOU SUCK STOP

Oh, I guess you’re supposed to declare war first and all that. Play by the rules and whatnot. But where would the fun be in that? Hell, we don’t even bother to declare war anymore (though we do make sure the “news” organizations get advance notice so they don’t miss any photo ops), and we attack with un-manned drones (flown from right here in Syracuse, even). Can’t get much sneakier than that.

Today is also, ironically, my Father-In-Law’s 88th birthday (not that he was at Pearl Harbor; he was busy celebrating his 20th birthday by trying not to get shot himself, having had the honor of serving the Fatherland in the Kriegsmarine for several years already). Happy Birthday, Opa!