See this article on the Star-Ledger's website
Like many communities, Maplewood has scheduled two big events for Memorial Day. One is a town march that will include veterans and current military officers, township officials, the high school marching band and Boy and Girl Scouts. The other is a charity rubber duck race. Guess which gets more public attention year after year.
So far as I can tell, rubber ducks have nothing to do with fallen U.S. soldiers -- unless Sesame Street's Ernie was a veteran, in which case I think he deserves special dispensa tion. But equally unrelated are barbecues, sleeping late and fabulous Memorial Day sales at Liz Claiborne. Is it any surprise that the sixth sentence of the Wikipedia reference for Memorial Day starts talking up the Indianapolis 500?
My only personal memories of the military revolve around my late Grandpa Ruby. I remember him proudly showing off the muscles he earned carrying a bazooka around Germany in World War II. My mother rarely speaks about the years she spent fatherless while he was overseas.
My children are even less connected. Naturally, my 4-year-old girls are oblivious to violent conflict, except as it pertains to taking turns on the computer. My 7-year-old son associates armed battle more with light sabers and blasters than AK-47s and bunker busters. But living, breathing images of the military are all around us. Penn Station commut ers pass by poorly camouflaged soldiers all the time, armed to the teeth to help tourists find their way to 8th Avenue, the subway or the closest ATM machine.
Though I'm no a fan of the war in Iraq, I have an urge to look them in the eyes, shake their hands and say "thanks." My personal forfeits on behalf of our freedom seem puny by comparison, so I can withstand a little stranger anxiety to show appreciation on the one day it's most appropriate.
Thinking much harder than I am about Memorial Day is another dad, presidential hopeful John Ed wards. On Monday, he encouraged Americans to spend Memorial Day speaking out against the war in Iraq. He was criticized by veterans who prefer he spend the time more traditionally, like in solemn reflec tion or enjoying related sales at Macy's.
But Edwards' Memorial Day obsession is eclipsed by that of his former colleague, Hawaii Sen. Daniel Inouye. For the last 18 years, Inouye has been trying to pass a bill in the Senate that would tie Memorial Day to May 30 -- the traditional date -- instead of to the last Monday in May, as was re quired in the Uniform Holiday Act of 1971.
Many people, including Inouye, feel affixing Memorial Day to a weekend dilutes the significance of the day and opens it up to fierce at tack by consumerism. And they have a point. In holiday terms, someone took the GI Joe out of Memorial Day. Inouye's most re cent bill was introduced in the Senate on Jan. 4, but even the C-SPAN cameraman took a coffee break. Naturally, it's the guy from Hawaii who thinks nobody needs a three-day weekend.
Yes, we've strayed far from Memorial Day's point. But the solution doesn't lie in eliminating one of our culture's beloved three-day weekends. Nor does Memorial Day need to be championed by posturing politicians.
A soldier's mission may be up for debate, but his sacrifice is unimpeachable.
What Memorial Day suffers from is a lack of action. In other words, ask not what Wal-Mart can do for you, but what you can do for those who willingly put themselves harm's way. On Monday, mix your revelry with reverence: Light the grill; cheer on those rubber ducks.
But also spend a moment thinking about those who never got the chance to see it end.
HOME