"O, what men dare do? what men daily do, not knowing what they do!" (Much Ado)

Tomorrow is the real Memorial Day. Of course, by transferring it to Monday, I suppose it gives a lot of people a three day weekend so that they can go for a drive and enrich the oil barons. So who decided to switch so many holidays to Monday? I simply cannot remember voting on that one. I can't tell you how many people I met who wished me a "Happy" Memorial Day. That is something I cannot fathom; what's happy about it? Is it supposed to be happy? I consider it a day to remember and thus to memorialize those who fell in America's wars. I realize, however, that someone who has not experienced combat cannot really understand the bond that exists between those that died and those that lived. Thus if you're wished a happy Memorial Day does that mean you should be happy you survived? I can't stop thinking about the boys--my buddies--who didn't come back with me; who never had a chance to experience the joys of raising a family and having a career and driving a Porshe. Not that I ever drove a Porshe--but I'm not dead yet. Cogito ergo sum--I think, therefore I am; but on Memorial Day... happy I'm not. I'll wait until Father's Day to be happy.

Today I went to my internist for an ultra sound of my carotid arteries. I thought I only had one of those, but when the nurse went to both sides of my neck I suddenly realized I had two. Of course, I asked her if I passed after she was done oiling around my neck, but she said it's something you don't pass, and that she'll call with the results next week. The reason I went there is because a few days ago I got up dizzy and toddled around for two days like a drunken sailor. Actually, I felt that I was standing still and everything around me was twisting and turning. Perhaps instead of the ultra sound, perhaps someone might want to come and check out the stability of this building.