We Boomers, eager to shed the fetters of traditionalism, raised our children as free spirits.  We were disinclined to adhere to the traditions and preferences of our parents as stogy and unimaginative.  Sex and intoxication replaced modesty and sobriety.  Heavy metal preferable to a violin concerto.  Television was desired more than a good book.  Sleeping in replaced Sunday services.  Hedonism substituted for virtuous living.  Anti-Americanism supplanted patriotism.  We were part of a generation in revolt that in the end realized that our behavior and practices were themselves revolting.

Many of us Boomers took account of how we lived our early lives and settled on the Christian worldview.  But certainly not all of us.  For those who didn’t, they raised a generation of children further inclined to revolt against their parents, even those whose view of the world began to reflect that of their parents.  They recognized—at long last—that their thoughts agreed with those of their parents.  By then, however, the generations since have embraced values increasingly alien and distant from the Greatest Generation’s.

Boomers sired Gen X, who in turn yielded the Millennials, who then brought forth Gen Z, the latter having a much distorted view of the work ethic and the role and purpose of government. Many believe that they can dictate the nature of their jobs.  They insist that work accommodate them as opposed to conforming to the requirements of their employers, to whom they freely obligated themselves. They’ve adopted the notion of “work-life balance,” as if employment must conform to their schedules and requirements, not what their employers expect of them. 

Gen Z views the government not as the protector of our freedom, but rather the guarantor of their success.  Furthermore, they have decided that the government is obliged to oblige them.  That free stuff fulfills their freedom.  That someone else can pay for their needs.  Is that demented notion any wonder given the last 60 years when those who have ruled over us have transformed the government from the guardian of our freedom to an ATM?  Should it mystify us that when you raise a generation utterly ignorant of civics, they would have such views?  When history is jettisoned for replacement theories concerning the nation’s founding that conform to radical ideologies, should we be astonished by the ignorance of our progeny concerning who they are and from whom they descended?

We Boomers once regarded our parents as members of the Greatest Generation, those who rose to oppose genuine fascism, not the progressive recasting of that evil that far-left radicals confer on those who seek to sustain our free constitutional republic today.

The Boomers and our children must bear the burden of what we have wrought.  And what now exists—like a thrown boomerang —is hurtling back in our direction to strike us in the face.  What we have done is now undoing our nation.  What shall we do about that?

Os Guinness, a well-regarded Christian apologist and critical thinker, has observed that in the American tradition of freedom, the only appropriate restraint in living as free men and women is self-restraint.  That needs much repair today.  We can attempt to fix that problem with legislation.  In some cases that is needed, particularly to deal with the evildoers living among us who have utterly no concept of self-restraint.  But while in some cases that may be necessary, it is insufficient.

The real answer is to right our own worldview and take actions to embrace and exhibit the Judeo-Christian ethic in our society.  That must, however, be an authentic expression of Biblical truth, not virtue signaling whereby we speak what is right but fail to live up to it.  Our children may lack any understanding of that worldview, but they are not blind.  They can detect hypocrisy and virtue signaling quite readily.  We must live genuinely and, in doing so, begin a vital transformation that many of us believe can only occur with a Christian revival across our nation.

Doing so requires we also confront how social media acts as an echo mechanism by which misinformation and distorted truth are transmuted into twisted interpretations and outright falsehoods.  We must recognize that if we want to propagate facts and truth, we must engage misinformed generations on their digital turf.  We are being outdone in that by deceivers, and we must rebuff them soundly.  That means using the technology of young Americans to inform them of the transcendent wisdom they need to go forward best.  Maybe then, we also will measure up to being the great generation that our parents were, something well within our grasp.

When I was a legislator, some in the press would refer to me as a “staunch Republican.”  Being a “committed” conservative or Republican wasn’t a suitable characterization.  They never use “staunch,” a harsh-sounding term, to describe their liberal pals on the left.  Using “avowed liberal” was about as risqué as they would be. 

The press generally referred to Democrats as “progressives,” eschewing the term “liberal.”  That comported nicely with the description Democrat consultants preferred since “liberal” carried too many negative connotations.  Besides, how could anyone oppose being “progressive?”  It was a subtle attempt to classify raising taxes, denying constitutional rights, expanding government, supporting illegal immigration with open borders, spending profligately, and attacking traditional values as somehow representing progress.  Yet Democrats successfully found a term that softened their image.  The press dutifully adhered.

The use of terms to describe political persuasions, however, has taken a sharp turn for the worse.  That’s particularly the case with the rise of the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA), a (pardon the term) very far-left wing of a Democratic Party whose establishment leaders would prefer “progressive” instead of “socialist” to describe their core beliefs.  It’s a problem mainstream Democrat leaders can blame themselves for, having mollycoddled the most radical elements of their following who are quite comfortable with being referred to as socialist, indeed, sometimes communist.

The DSA is about as strident a group as any we have seen in recent years.  Even the TEA Party—whose use of that term stood for “Taxed Enough Already”—resisted calling the Democrats “communists,” preferring to label them what they were: the party of “Tax and Spend.”  Not so the DSA, who today refer to Republicans as “fascists,” or worse, “Nazis.”  That has, in fact, given rise to Republicans referring to the DSA as socialists and communists.  Is it any wonder?  It leaves one wishing for the less offensive use of left “this” or right “that.”

Yet even the left- and right-wing dichotomy does not accurately account for where communists and fascists reside on the political spectrum.  In fact, the terms left and right are themselves irrelevant in understanding the nature of communists and fascists compared to other government forms.  Some consider communists on the left and fascists on the right.  But in fact, both are found on the end of the spectrum that tends toward tyranny and dictatorships.  

Indeed, arrayed correctly—and for the sake of simplicity—on the far left you would find the most dictatorial forms of government, communism and fascism being equally tyrannical.  Moving toward the center, a monarchy appears, a more legitimate form of concentrated power.  In the center, one would find a republic, a representative form of constitutional government based on democratic principles.  Next to that, a pure democracy appears, which would be strict adherence to majority rule not subject to the safeguards found in a republic.  Populating the opposite end of this spectrum is anarchy, a disorderly form of stateless society without rulers.  In other words, the governance dichotomy runs from tyranny on one end to anarchy on the other, with varying forms of state control in between.  So, when one party declares the other as either communist or fascist, they’re using the same tyrannical insult.  Who is correct? 

Let us take the DSA at their word.  Their platform calls for some rather extreme major structural changes to our republic:

• Rewriting the Constitution to establish a single federal legislature,
• Abolishing the Senate,
• Limiting Supreme Court power, and
• Establishing a democratic socialist republic with social ownership and worker control over the economy.

The DSA would reject the long-standing structure of our constitutional republic, impose a Russian-like State Duma, jettison the Senate, limit the Supreme Court in its vital judicial role to sustain law and order, and seize ownership of private property while upending the free-market principles that have made us the wealthiest nation in history.

Of course, all of this would require a constitutional convention to rewrite and amend the US Constitution.  Unfortunately, that would be done by heavy-handed and uneducated DSA members who would quickly reject constitutional procedure to rule by fiat when freedom-minded people oppose them.

Simply put, who are inclined to tyranny in this picture?  Who would be more receptive to the actual definition of fascism, which prefers “centralized autocratic government headed by a dictatorial leader, and that is characterized by severe economic and social regimentation and by forcible suppression of the opposition?” 

Is it those seeking to sustain the republic, or those inclined to dictator top-down radicalism that would destroy our constitutional republic?  The DSA has removed all doubt.

Getting There

From Woodbridge, Virginia, we took I-95 south.  So do most Americans residing along the East Coast traveling to the Sunshine State.  Yet the roads seemed busier in the northbound lanes than the ones we were on headed south.  Our number one focus was on gas prices.  With the conflict in the Middle East, it’s clear that fuel prices have been affected.  They hovered around $3.50, about 40 cents cheaper than on our trip to Chicago in early June.  It’s a bother.  But weighed against getting Iran under control—not an easy task on the best day—we rationalize that paying more now for gas is better than an Iran on the loose in the Middle East.  But I digress.

The trip was fun and uneventful.  We had time to talk about life, people, and other topics married folks digest together.  In a time and age when people talk more to their phones than to each other, it’s refreshing to discourse with another person.  I took note of the former when we stopped for lunch in Georgia for a hamburger and refreshments.  Taking a seat in the restaurant area, I noted how many people sitting across from one another were riveted to their phone screens, as if the other person sitting inches from them wasn’t there at all.  Being in person wasn’t personal enough.  Somehow, we need to get back to the days when people were more interested in the people in their presence than those who exist only electronically.  Who knows, we might actually learn to write letters and postcards again.

There

We’ve been to Rosemary Beach along the Florida Gulf three times before.  And we were not disappointed when we arrived this time.  The house we are staying in is spacious.  It needed to be for six adults and five active kiddos.  The two top attractions are, of course, the beach and the community’s expansive pool complex.  Both can get crowded, but people seem to expect that and are most accommodating to one another as they soak up the sun, enjoy the warm water, and the friendly banter.

Not to be neglected are the shops, where everything is expensive, and the opportunity to splurge is just a pocketbook away.  We celebrated three birthdays among us, including a granddaughter’s.  That was special this time around.  The shops yielded up gifts that punctuated those occasions.  Notably is Charlie’s Delights, the local doughnut vendor.  Yes, they are good, and two dozen doesn’t last too long.

We preserved one night out for the entire family.  That was spent at McGuire’s, an Irish bar in Panama City.  It is hardly a “bar,” but rather a sprawling series of restaurant rooms that by 7:00 PM are packed to the gills.  For that reason, we showed up at 5:00 PM, which proved wise.  The portions were very generous, and they brew their own beer on site.  So too was the service first rate.

The most fun for us was watching the kids romp and play.  They are old enough to initiate their own games and often race in unison from one venue to another, occasionally like a herd stampeding.

Family meals are fun, both the preparations and the consumption.  Games in the evening are routine and a good way to wind down activities before hitting the hay.  Ah yes, sleep has been wonderful.

I have used the days that offer a bit of solitude—when the herd has left for the pool or beach—to do some writing and reflection.  I was able to get a book proposal and introductory chapter out to a prospective publisher.  And then consider life a bit.  With the untimely death of Senator Lindsey Graham, I—as others must—have contemplated how life can end suddenly.  As the scriptures tell us, that time can come without warning, and as a result, we must keep watch and remain faithful even to the end.  That said, all of us are enjoying life together as a family in a place that will produce a harvest of bountiful memories.

Gone

By weeks’ end, we’ll be headed back to Virginia.  Hopefully, gas prices will not have risen much. Fortunately, we have friends along the way where we can stay overnight.  The trip home will give us an opportunity to reset and remember tasks that need to happen or were unfinished before we escaped to Florida.  But the best moment will be when we reconnect with Woody, our affectionate Yellow Lab.  He will have no idea where we have been.  But will be exceedingly happy that we are no longer gone. 

It’s idyllic. It’s also pricey, but worth the cost.  We’ll be in a large rental with lots of space to spread out and relax on multistory balconies, porches, and an outdoor area to do cookouts.  Our grandkids are 11, 11, 9, 7, and 5 years old.  They are—as we like to say—the “dessert of life.”  Gammy has plans for game nights each evening.  We’ll see how that works.  Sometimes the sweetness of these little guys fades as the evening grows long and fatigue sets in.  But it’s a fun thought.

Board games surpass the electronic distractions of the “gaming” sort.  Imagine that.  Kids playing cards, dominoes, and games that require using their hands to advance toward success as opposed to thumbs to dart electronically here and there.  Yes, we’re 75 and a bit old-style, preferring to use our eyes and hands to deal cards or manipulate small tokens in the physical realm. (I use my thumbs in conjunction with the remaining fingers to grasp a cold beverage.)

The beach at Seacrest is just spectacular.  White sand, warm, clear water that often reveals small fish and an occasional jellyfish to avoid.  The waves vary based on the wind, but they are ideal for riding the surf.  On a normal day, the adults will take turns taking the kids there.  However, the pool alternative is very enticing.

In the center of Seacrest is a huge pool complex that offers a lot of space for adults and kids alike.  Every hour, there’s a 15-minute timeout for swimmers, soakers, loungers, and those who enjoy the water without little ones splashing about.  The pool is my favorite spot to read, play with the grands, and enjoy an adult beverage.  No glassware, and better to take your own lunch made at home than shelling out for it at the poolside snack bar.

There are also many very nice shops in and near the community. Yes, both cheap and expensive stuff.  Ice cream parlors are a favorite of our grands after dinner.  All of this is within walking distance, so as the sun sets, a walk to secure ice cream in the cool of the evening is a special treat.

Each of the homes comes with bikes for residents to use.  So, touring the community the old-fashioned way is fun.  I like to take an early morning jaunt before the heat arrives.  Others do as well.  But frequently people out for a ride pass me.  The days of running are for others now.  That’s what three hip surgeries will do for you.

The downside is that we can’t take our Yellow Lab, Woody.  He’s boarding with his trainer this week.  He’ll be fine palling around with his dog friends.  But we will miss him.  So will the grands; they love him to pieces.  And of course, I will do some writing each day to preserve my sanity.  I have a book ready for a publisher but need to tie up a few edits before I send off the revised draft.

We’ll spend most evenings cooking for ourselves.  The house has a wonderful outdoor grill arrangement, and the dads will put their BBQ skills to work while others put together the healthy part of the meal.  In the morning, we’ll make pancakes. Always a favorite.  And there is also the nearby doughnut shop that serves up fresh ones at 6:00 AM.  Yep, it’s an early adventure, but few things are more fun than seeing the wide eyes of grandkids when the doughnuts arrive.   While these delights wreck our diets, they are quite happy-making.

We’ll be taking I-95 south and then, after entering Florida, I-10 westward.  It’s long, but with occasional stops (Buc-ee’s is our favorite), it’s fun, nonetheless.  If you have not had a Buc-ee’s experience, you really need to.  Their brisket sandwiches and candied pecans, well, they’re the best.  Yep, very southern also.

I recall the first time my parents took us to Florida circa 1956.  We stayed near St. Augustine and had loads of fun.  But I was a kid then.  Seventy years later, being a grandaddy is a lot more fun, even if I’m a lot slower.  To be certain, the memories that vacations like this can deliver will last long after we are gone.  And for that reason, they are very special.

In the numerous elections I stood in, the most bitter contests were the intraparty ones.  There are always differences among candidates of the same stripe.  But you would expect that the variance would be minor.  In my own tribe—the Republican Party—it wasn’t always so.  Sometimes, the differences were over issues on the margin. Others were more sharply delineated, particularly on social issues or taxation.  Often they were a matter of personality.  But frequently, the campaign could get quite heated.

In the GOP, we have had our trying moments.  During the Obama years, when the Tea Party (Taxed Enough Already) spawned, it soon was drawn into policy fights that had more to do with issues outside of its original focus, which was specifically excessive taxation. Likewise, Libertarians infatuated with Congressman Ron Paul were so unhappy that he was not nominated by the GOP for president in 2012 that they became a drag on the eventual nominee, Mitt Romney.  And of course, even the MAGA coalition so adroitly assembled by Donald Trump is now pulling at its own seams concerning tariffs, gas prices, and the war in Iran. Parties are not parties.

Today you need look no further than the Democrat Party to see that.  For years, the Democrats were satisfied to tell us that we were not spending enough on anything.  The exception was defense.  Despite their gratuitous words in support of “our troops,” they actually do not like the military because it tends to be conservative, which, of course, Democrats are not.  Otherwise, they’ve consistently ascribed to the view that the government is the piggybank by which they win votes by handing out other people’s money.  They chafe at the idea that a government big enough to give you everything you want is big enough to take everything you have.  But that, of course, is a true threat to us all.  Big government will run our lives if we place in its hands the bridle to control us.  No thanks.

However, in recent years—a function of the civics illiteracy that teacher unions have presided over—a generation of misguided and uneducated youth has attained voting age.  They have been sold a bill of goods labeled “socialism” that is very much about handing out other people’s money, wealth, homes, and rights.  Their motto is gimme-gimme.  But there is a darker side.

The socialists advancing under the Democrat Party banner are advocating for issues that are quite apart from the Democrats we knew in the 1990s.  Those Democrats were happy to tax and spend.  But today’s Democrat socialists are unhappy unless they are confiscating and destroying.

Consider the issues they embrace. Seizing private property through rent control.  Anti-Semitism. Support for terrorist organizations like Hamas, Hezbollah, and Iran, thus aligning with those who are slaughtering innocent men, women, and children. Biological males playing in biological female sports. Boys “identifying” as girls and using the latter’s locker rooms.  Wide open borders.  Tourists coming to the US for the sole purpose of having babies that would then have dual US-foreign citizenship. Social programs that are fraught with fraud.  Offering Medicare benefits to people who have not paid a solitary penny into the program.  Defunding the police.  Doxing law enforcement officers who are executing the law as written.  Granting bail for criminals on the same day that they commit crimes. 

I grew up with traditional Democrats who would have rejected this.  To be sure, they wanted government to do more for the needy, but they had reasonable criteria.  Not so now with Democrats.

Indeed, today’s Democrats, focused as they are on rebuffing Trump for any reason at all, have condoned their socialist adherents in unimaginable ways.  When the communist Zohran Mamdani was elected as mayor of New York City last year, Democrat pols nervously told us, “That’s a New York phenomenon, not indicative of Democrats across the fruited plains.”  Oh really?  Now those socialists have also succeeded in several states across the country.

And the mainstream Democrat response? “We’re a Big Tent Party.” Well, that tent is soaked with a radical accelerant.  And when the match is struck, it will ignite a bonfire.  It’s time for Democrats to consider what until 5 minutes ago was unthinkable. That will require them to temper Trump-hatred and vote Republican. It may be ashes in their mouth, but better than ashes at their feet.

As an artilleryman, I learned that the Morgan Horse breed, developed in New England, was the ideal animal to pull heavy cannons and caissons in the days of horse artillery.  They were very strong and beautiful.  Compact and refined in their build, Morgans have strong legs, a straight or slightly convex profile, and a broad forehead.  They also had large, prominent eyes; well-defined shoulders, and an upright and well-arched neck.  All that works well for many purposes, and artillerymen, particularly in the Civil War era, loved them.

In WWI, when President Harry Truman was an artillery captain, his battery may have had Morgans, but more likely, mules did the work of pulling heavy cannons and related equipment.  Truman grew up plowing fields on a farm and loved animals.  So, when he assumed command of his unit, he took a special interest in the care of its livestock.  It was a defining moment for him and his men.  Truman was a geek of sorts, wore glasses—was practically blind without them—and did not fit the tough and ready profile of many of the roughneck Irishmen from Kansas City, Missouri, who populated his battery.  They weren’t very confident that Truman had “the right stuff.”  But when they saw how genuine his concern for the horses in combat was, they took a shine to him.  He would demonstrate courage and tenacity, and in the years after the war, his comrades were devoted to him, not passing up an opportunity to reunite and recount their days in combat.

In many ways, Truman—the man—was shaped by his experience on the farm where he grew up.  He loved the mules he used in farming, noting, “My favorite animal is the mule.  He has more horse sense than a horse.  He knows when to stop eating – and he knows when to stop working.”  He would frequently compare men and mules, both good and bad characteristics.  Somewhere in my notes, I recall Truman saying that you can learn a lot about people walking behind a mule all day.

So, what does this have to do with the documentary I noted at the outset?  Many of the enthusiasts who are doing so much to preserve horse breeds in America are young women.  I have observed over the years how young girls and women love horses.  We have a dear friend and his daughter who fit the mold.  I was struck by how much energy and love the young women in this documentary devoted to their horses, caring for them, breeding them, and training their steeds for development and in some cases competition.  The Morgans for pulling, the Quarter Horses for competition in cowboy pursuits, the Mustangs for reenactments of the Pony Express, and the nostalgic care for the intelligent and versatile Appaloosas cherished by westerners and Native Americans.  In each case, young women had a prominent story to tell about their love of horses and why they do what they do.  They had a profound purpose.

That made me think about the current generation of young people—Gen Z-ers—who are so engaged with the socialist agenda.  That includes seeking a government that will give them “free stuff” or caters to their preoccupation with sexual identity, and their expressed hatred for all things traditional.  They are angry CAVE people, that is, Citizens Against Virtually Everything. 

They tell you explicitly or implicitly by their dress, cosmetics, and manner why they don’t care for your way of life.  They are in your face, even when they stride past you with their combat boots as an expression of their militancy.  They are so filled with radical contradiction that they have little time for rational conversation.  They could not be more different from the young women I saw engaged in raising and caring for noble horse breeds.  To the contrary, there is very little noble in what a great many young people are doing today in our society torn asunder with disdain for tradition and the conservation of good and necessary things.

It strikes me that so many young people, girls and boys alike, lack participation in ideal things that matter.  Is it any wonder that we have so many disaffected people who lack an understanding of what is important?  Like Truman, I suppose you can learn a lot about people by observing what they do.  And the young women caring for the equine world have something to share that is noble.

What is more depressing is that this is not a surprise in America.  In many quarters, fatherhood does not hold the same respect as motherhood.  Today, fatherlessness is alarmingly high across racial lines.  Among white mothers with white fathers, the rate of single motherhood is a stunning 38 percent.  For black mothers with black fathers, the rate is a jaw-dropping 59 percent.  And for context, black Americans—only 15.2 percent of the total American population of 340 million—are 2.8 times more likely than white Americans to be imprisoned at some point in their lives.  Indeed, black men, who comprise 33.7 percent of male prisoners, are six times more likely than white men to be incarcerated in their lifetimes.  Put another way, the black incarceration rate is 570 per 100,000 adults, compared to 170 per 100,000 for white adults.  

Some claim this is a racial matter.  In fact, for both white and black prisoners, it’s a Father’s Day problem.  Is it any surprise that all male prisoners weren’t particularly motivated to send a Father’s Day card to their dads, assuming they even knew their father?  Just like black men without a father in their lives, white men are similarly vexed.  Dad’s matter.  And sons deprived of them are disadvantaged in significant ways.

I have written lately on how the far left radicals—the same half-witted people who could label “mothers” as “gestating people”—accuse men of “toxic masculinity.”  They utterly have no appreciation of how a full-time father in the life of boys and young men positively conditions them for success in life.  Men are needed to raise good men.  

That doesn’t happen by magic.  It happens when fathers impress upon their sons the importance of strength controlled by goodness. That doesn’t translate to “macho” men, but rather men who exhibit moral strength and integrity.  Men who do things the right way when no one is looking.  Men who respect women, understand the significance of long-term marriage, and the necessity of strong families for society at large.

I was fortunate—like many of you—to have a strong father.  My dad was not perfect. But he loved me, understood he had a role to play in shaping manhood for me, and knew that his place was not to be my “buddy,” but rather model manhood in a responsible manner.  He did.  And I certainly have made the effort to do that for my sons, both of whom are fine men to this day.  

Unfortunately, responsible fatherhood in America today is in rapid decline.  There are many factors.  Moral decay. Hedonism. Rejection of a biblical worldview.  Social media amounts to intellectual pornography, polluting the attitudes and rhetoric of just about everyone who falls under its influence.  It takes a very committed father these days to raise boys to be strong men in every sense of the world.

Yet men deprived of strong fathers nonetheless yearn for them.  In my years as a soldier, I witnessed how fatherless young men had as their first father figure their drill sergeant, who took a firm and personal interest in their success as young soldiers.  Contrary to popular belief, Army drill sergeants did not try to “wash people out” of the service.  To the contrary, they saw success as bringing those young men along and putting them on the road to achievement.  Indeed, rarely will you meet a former soldier who cannot immediately recall the name of his drill sergeant.  Whether they had good fathers or none at all, those young men knew that their drill sergeant wanted them to be as manly and strong as any good father would want them to be.

I’m not suggesting that fathers become parade field task masters, although there is a role for exacting standards for young boys that fathers should provide.  But I am saying that it is vitally important for fathers to be, well, strong influencers and examples in the lives of their sons.

How is that done?  Loving them.  Caring for them.  Letting them know that you see in them a man who will not only be good, but is ready to pass on to their sons the values that are needed to sustain strong men in our society.

This Father’s Day, don’t bother with a card.  Show dad the good man you are.  That’s enough for Father’s Day.

Bees are fascinating creatures.  With over 20,000 known species, they include honeybees, bumblebees, and stingless bees, all of which live in highly hierarchical colonies. Yet many bee species live in solitude. 

Bees are admirably diligent and very different from carnivorous or omnivorous insects.  Bees are herbivores, specifically feeding on nectar as a carbohydrate source for metabolic energy, pollen for protein, and other nutrients to feed their larvae. 

Like people, bees are found on every continent except Antarctica.  And they are necessary for habitats on the planet, where insect-pollinated flowering plants are the direct beneficiaries of diligent bees.

They seem quite happy working.  In that regard, the bee unemployment rate is almost nonexistent.  They don’t complain that they don’t have paid sick leave or demand that certain bees deserve preferential treatment based on the species.  Bees don’t have unions.  They are just happy to have a job and focus on what needs to be done and do it well. Bees don’t expect that others will do their work for them.  They know their skill set and set about it every day that the weather permits.

Bees don’t lobby others for special treatment. They don’t expect it.  All they expect is that life will present itself for the single opportunity that is before them.  To make things better. And on that score, they are much needed.  Agricultural sprays are their most profound threat.  They are exposed to many chemical stressors. The primary culprits are synthetic agrochemicals and industrial pollutants that threaten vital pollinators.

Bees play an important role in pollinating flowering plants, like our apple, peach, and cherry trees at the river that cross-pollinate to produce fruit.  Remarkably, it’s estimated that one-third of our food supply depends on pollination by insects and birds.  But by far the bulk of that work is accomplished by bees in the wild or otherwise domesticated by beekeepers.

Yet in the past fifty-plus years, there has been an alarming decline among species of wild bees and related pollinators.  Some of that is due to the stress created by increased parasites and disease, residential pesticide use, and a concomitant reduction in the number of wild flowers overtaken by development, biodiversity loss, and ecosystem degradation.  I suppose that if our bees at the river could talk, they would thank my wife for planting the lavender that they are so eagerly engaged with daily. Yet all they know is that it is there and important to what they do.  They work tirelessly, and just watching them suggests contrasts for me.

Look at our society and culture today.  Take note of how many people expect that the government will take care of them from cradle to grave, meeting their every need.  That spending other people’s money is the way to get ahead in life.  Perish the thought that you might have to work, even five days of the week.  Our lavender-tending bees have no such expectations: they live for the opportunity to work.  They are made to work as we are, created to tend to the earth and care for all that the Creator made.  Bees don’t believe “we have it coming to us.”  They go out and get it, and then use their efforts to help themselves and even us.  They instinctively fulfill the purpose for which they are made.  In that regard, their quite personal work ethic abounds in the form of a gift to others. 

So many in our society believe they should be the recipient of gifts, not be so to others.  Add to that sorrowful lot those in the political class who are delighted to spend other people’s money, until there is none left to spend, requiring that we go into a disastrous cycle of debt that our children and grandchildren will bear.  At the same time, too many people miss the dignity and character-building of hard work.  Unlike bees, the elected class loves having others do the work while they enjoy the honey of power and prestige.  You would think those who rule over us would take note of how the work ethic has been undermined in America.  They seem quite enamored of burdening us with overregulation, excessive taxation, and endless pontification about how much good they are doing for us.  Bees don’t bother us with such gaslighting. 

Our river bees offer a better example for all.  Hard work matters. Diligence is important, necessary, and beneficial to others.  We need to be more like bees.  

A Date with History: Desert Redleg: Artillery Warfare in the First Gulf War

This will be the second time I’ve lectured on this topic at Cantigny.  The First Division Museum sponsors this historical series, and it’s a wonderful service to those who can attend.  This particular lecture will be an in-person presentation, and I will be autographing books for people who attend the event.  I will also be discussing how the First Gulf War differed from those we will fight in the future.  There are many lessons from both the Ukrainian and Iranian wars.  These lessons and the amazing technologies that have advanced in recent years will combine to shape a very different reality for future conflicts.  In that regard, the Army will always go forward best by going back first.  That is why I do these lectures here and in other places.  We cannot afford to disregard what we have learned in past conflicts as we prepare and modernize our forces to engage in those that will surely come. 

The Beauty of our Nation

Despite the political conflict and silliness that make our society coarser and more unattractive, we live in a beautiful land.  Our trip westward, helped by dry sunny weather, was one that revealed remarkable sites.  Escaping the concrete terrain of the Northern Virginia beltway, crossing the western reaches of Maryland into Pennsylvania was a relief.  The panorama of hills and mountains is glorious, and despite the mortifying gymnastics of dodging numerous tractor-trailers, we enjoyed taking in the sights.  As we traveled through Ohio toward Toledo, the hills and farms reminded us that we are a nation of hard workers.  Farmers, blue-collar workers, and all those who work diligently in flyover country are hardly recognized by gasbag politicians who pass the time attacking one another over issues that are not remotely of concern to taxpayers.  But as you drive, you appreciate people.  The homes they occupy, the businesses they work in, and the schools they attend.  It’s hard not to admire our people, the same folks who our politicians believe are incapable of seeing through the nonsense in Washington and state capitols.  They deserve better.  We should give it to them.

A Small Town

We spent the first evening on our journey in an idyllic small Midwest town, Perrysburg, in Wood County, Ohio.  With a population of over 25,000, it’s as Midwest, I suppose, as Midwest could be.  We drove through the town after having a pleasant dinner and were delighted by the beautiful homes that border the south side of the Maumee River, about 12 miles southwest of Toledo.  Lawns manicured, people walking their dogs, pushing babies in strollers, kids riding bikes along the sidewalk, churches on every corner, and well-maintained homes distinctly different from one another.  Absent was the hectic Beltway traffic and stretches of monotonous track housing.  Perrysburg has character.  And it was easy to imagine living happily there, away from the busyness of Northern Virginia.  Of course, there is our Tidewater haven to think of in the Northern Neck.  We are already missing that.  But it was pleasant to see the peacefulness of a place they call Perrysburg.

Gas

Well, it’s expensive.  But not uniformly.  In Blue states like Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Illinois, gas is well over $4.00.  That is almost exclusively due to taxes.  In Ohio and Indiana, it was 40-50 cents cheaper.  So, the art form is timing refueling when you cross the right state line.  We fueled up in Indiana to make sure we did not leave our cash in Illinois.  You can’t always avoid the high costs.  You have to refuel when needed, and that may mean paying more.  But you can lessen the cost with some strategic buying.  And like many of you, we long for the day when the conflict in the Middle East will end, and gas prices will come down. But it’s a price I am willing to pay if we wind up with a world that does not have a nuclear Iran.

German Cuisine

Last night we found a German restaurant in the suburbs of Chicago.  Shelley and I have fond memories of living in Germany from 1985 to 1988.  So, we enjoyed reminiscing as we partook of jäger schnitzels and assorted side dishes.  Yes, apple strudel too.  It’s been a good trip so far, but we’re looking forward to returning to Virginia, which holds much of the same beauty we are seeing now.

A few thoughts while driving.

On other occasions, I forget to turn off the sprinkler in my “beer garden” at the river, or “riv’ah” as slowly pronounced in the “Naw’thin Neck.”  That place, bounded by the Potomac on the north, the Rappahannock on the south, and the Chesapeake Bay on the east, is where I do most of my book writing.  Typically, I’ll turn on the sprinkler, go inside, get enthralled with scribing, and forget that I am mercilessly drowning my vegetables.  Fortunately, it’s a raised bed, just about to hip level, so the water drains well when it occurs to me to stop the flood.  Oh, and the reference to “beer garden?”  That is because when I weed the garden, I can set my beer on the raised ledge to weed the bed.  Easy on the back, while accommodating my thirst for a cold “bev’age,” yet another colloquialism.

Checking the oil and watering the gardens are important.  But not that important. What is?  At three-quarters of a century old, I still do some important things.  Gone are the days of earlier significance, a 28-year military career, and another decade and a half in Virginia’s legislature.  Now the important things tend to center on relationships.

Most recently, I built a toy battleship for my youngest grandson, who is 4, and lives in Kansas City.  He’s a very bright lad who loves animals, but I had a piece of wood in my shop that gave every evidence it would make a fine replica of the USS Missouri (BB-63).  Pulling the right pieces of spare wood together, I fashioned a reasonable facsimile of the legendary battlewagon for him to slay fleets of imaginary adversaries. Years from now, that toy may or may not exist.  But maybe he’ll remember he had a grandaddy who made it for him, and think fondly of it.  And then, hopefully, will do something similar for the future apples of his eye.

Not long ago, I spent time with fellow veterans of the 1st Infantry Division with whom I served in the First Gulf War.  Those are special relationships to me, particularly since this year was the 35th anniversary of our successful effort to liberate Kuwait from Iraq’s aggression in 1990-I991.  I wrote a book about that because I thought it was important to chronicle it.  But more importantly, reuniting annually to be with my comrades in arms is very important.  One day, we’ll be gone, but since this reunion stretches across multiple generations—Vietnam, the First Gulf War, and the conflicts in Afghanistan and Iraq—it’s an opportunity for old soldiers to pass the transcendent lessons on to younger ones.  They will tell our stories and theirs, too.  It’s important. As we like to say, half of the war stories are true, and the other half should have been.

There are other things I do that are important.  A few weeks ago, I spent time with five other Army officers from my days as a young lieutenant.  I was the junior fellow in the pack.  They were all like big brothers I never had.  And wise beyond their years, at least I thought so.  In a fashion, they imprinted me with good thinking that I carried with me in my profession throughout my Army career.  Occasionally, I would reach in and dispense that wisdom to others.  Funny how that works, young soldiers equipping others to be old ones. These relationships are also important.  They must be cared for and nourished, even until we join the immortal ranks of soldiers past.

So, there are some important things I do in relationships that are significantly more valuable than checking the oil and subjecting my vegetables to Noah-like diluvial punishment.

However, consider this relationship as found in an exchange between Jesus and a learned man in Matthew 22:35-40. A lawyer asked, “Teacher, which is the great commandment in the Law?” And Jesus said to him, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  This is the great and first commandment.  And a second is like it: You shall love your neighbor as yourself.  On these two commandments depend all the Law and the Prophets.”

Important stuff, indeed.