My dad was a veteran. He served in WW2 in the South Pacific, as an army clerk on an island.

He kept track of men being shipped in and shipped out. By the time we got around to talking about it he had cancer and was full of drugs to ease the pain and couldn't remember the name of the place. He did tell me that once two GI's got drunk and threatened to kick his arse.

My dad was a good man. He did the best he could, usually while smoking a cigarette or drinking a beer (after 5). That last trait we seem to share, though I don't always wait for 5.

Dad didn't care for prejudice. I remember the day I found out that my favorite football player for the Detroit Lions was black. He asked me what difference that should make. Forty years later and I still remember that moment.

Having said that, dad hated the Japanese. Dam_ slant eyed bastar_s. To his dying day he would not knowingly buy anything made in that country.

When dad passed on he had an estate of about $10,000.00 to split between six of us. What a perfect way to go out. He had also spent a lot of time his last few years helping other veterans with their benefits and disability and medical paperwork.

He was a clerk in the army you see, and knew how to be of help. If he ever got paid for his time then it wasn't very much.

Now my son is in a military school. He is working hard, and next year he will be just down the road at the Air Force Academy. If dad was still around he would be proud. He wanted me to join the military, but I didn't.

This war is a mistake, being run by incompetent fools. More of our men and women have died since the commander in chief declared it won than ever did on our way to "victory".

This thing has dragged on longer than the world war my father served in. We all know that, but it ticks me off.

Some would say if I can't support the policy I can't be supporting the troops. What a crock of crap. I would argue my not supporting the policy proves my support for the troops.

I don't want my son or any other son of a bi_ch in an American uniform dying in this misguided exercise of pushing democracy on a people and a country and a region that has no interest.

The Greatest Generation. I suppose. I won't argue it. I met a few of those guys over the years, usually at the VFW Hall where dad would take me after I turned 18 for a beer or two (yes, back then in Michigan you could drink at 18).

I tend to believe they were mostly just ordinary people caught up in an extraordinary circumstance. I tend to believe they had a stronger sense of values than maybe some of us do today.

My father, my son. The two most important men in my life, sharing a thread across the years. One was a veteran, the other most likely one day will be.

These days people aren't so willing to say what they think. Maybe that's good, maybe that's bad.

Oh sure, we're polarized, that's easy enough to see. Politically it's almost uncool to have a moderate viewpoint these days.

But really, what would you say to an old WW2 vet who just called the Japanese "slant eyed bastar_s"? Roll your eyes, maybe be a bit condescending?

Or just wait out the uncomfortable moment and move the conversation on? Do you really imagine you would have a clue what he is talking about?

My dad is buried in a military cemetery in Michigan. It is calm and peaceful there and I wish I could set there just now. My dad was a veteran, you see. He served in the army on an island in the South Pacific.

He kept track of men being shipped in and shipped out and he didn't like the Japanese. When he died he had a $10,000.00 estate and he helped a lot of other vets out.

My son is in military school. Tell me any of that is wrong and I'll call you a sorry S.O.B. They're my heroes, you see.

Veteran's Day 2007.