Goodbye Old Friend

It was hard to part with you. I don't know why. You weren't really that good to me. 

Yeah, it was fun at the start, driving about at speeds too fast, the wind in our hair. We looked good together. People honked and waved at us regularly when the relationship was new. Many of them were jealous that I had you and they didn't. Yeah, we logged a lot of miles and had some adventures. 

Remember the time we passed that seemingly endless line of thirty two cars in a row on a two lane road? We just made it past the final car with only yards to spare before the road divided and we would have been soaring down the wrong side at 135. It made our hearts race at the time and gave us reason to laugh later on. 

The first years were good. I could always count on you. But over time I began to realize that ours had become a high maintenance relationship. You just had to have the best of everything. When I took you out to a place that most people thought was decent, you'd complain about the service. Sometimes you'd even act out until I took you to a place you liked better. I swear one time you blew smoke you were so angry.

Maybe it was cruel I made you live in the garage for two years that one time. I felt like it was charitable. You had no other place to go and my wife certainly wasn't going to let another woman come inside the house. It was unfortunate that she decided to step on you while you slept that one time. I will never know why she thought that was acceptable. I know it left a wound which never healed and I'm sorry.

It wasn't long after that I started spending time with you again. As much as I wanted to rekindle the friendship we once had, it was never the same. Though I thought you were still a looker, people no longer turned their heads. I bought you nice things, you got dressed up. Maybe it was just me, but it felt like when we went out it was more like work than the play it once was. The relationship was lost to your ever escalating demands for more and more attention.

I tried to send you away. In a desperate plea for attention you spent all of your time with my niece. How long was that? A year? You finally showed your true colors though, letting her down and demanding much more than any sane friend would ever ask. Of course you came crawling, practically dragging yourself back to me.

I let you hang around my house for two years. You were literally falling apart. For the sake of the times we had I didn't complain. I didn't pay your bills though. Finally, a neighbor complained about the woman lurking in the driveway all hours of the night. 

It was time for you to go. You were old. It was a mercy to put you down, to let you become a donor before all of your parts were completely rotted away.

Goodbye Old Friend. It was bittersweet watching you roll away on the back of a tow truck.

Don't be sad. You know I wanted to keep you for my son, to turn you back into something that people would point out, honk and wave. But the crazy people in our neighborhood failed to see that you were still more beautiful than the rusted-out, broken-down pickup truck three houses away or the immobile Camaro with seven colors of primer and rust on the block behind us. They didn't see the promise of a roll cage and a race track. They didn't know that all you needed was a $800 clutch (and someone to install it). 

But most importantly, they still don't know that I sold you for enough money to paint my house Denver Bronco's orange with the logo on the garage door. That should teach them to worry about the garbage in their yard instead of the worn out Porsche in someone else's driveway. That should teach them to go live somewhere with an HOA if they wanna complain. 

Goodbye old friend. Rest well with the other old cars. I'm sure rabbits will come visit and from time to time someone will take a piece of you with them. Just don't let the yellow jackets build a nest in you and you will be fine.

OK, now that she's not listening, anyone interested in a nice set of 17-inch Mille Miglia C2 Cup wheels complete with a nearly new set of Fuzion HRI tires for their Porsche should drop me a line.

War Stories

I finished reading three books in January. Much to my surprise, two of them were World War II non-fiction texts: Unbroken and A Higher Call. I say much to my surprise because these gift books are in contrast to most of what I normally read. I generally lean toward fiction and none of it war stories. Yet both of these books were immensely engaging, better than most fiction I've read and almost impossible to put down. In fact after reading them, I don't even remember the name of the other book I finished this year. Either these two wartime books were excellent or my mind is slipping . . . possibly a combination of both.

After reading them, I paused to wonder why World War Two is so intriguing. How could I be so completely engrossed in tales that revolved around such a horrific time in history? Certainly war reveals the worst of which humanity is capable. We're all well aware of the horrors of German concentration camps, but maybe not everyone knows of the horrific conditions in Japanese POW camps, where Allied soldiers were often literally staved to death. Some might be unaware that the mass majority Japanese Americans living in the United States were interred in prison camps (many of whom were second or third generation Americans). And the war's death tolls? More than sixty million people died during the second world war. Including civilians, death tolls by country were approximately 420,000 Americans, 450,000 from the UK, 3,000,000 each for Japan and Italy, 8,000,000 Germans, and a staggering 24,000,000 Soviets.

It isn't exactly edifying to explore the ghastly darkness of which humanity is capable. But the flip side of this is what made both books remarkable, and what I believe makes many war stories fulfilling. In the midst of all this catastrophe humans have the capacity to either embrace the horror surrounding them or to rise above it.

While most books I read are fiction, I have read a lot of articles on World War II aviators. There are dozens of amazing stories about bombers with devastating damage carrying their crew home. I've come across a couple where an aircraft literally collapsed after stopping safely on the runway. One of the most amazing stories I ever encountered was that of Alan Magee who was thrown from a burning, out of control B-17 at 20,000 feet with no parachute. Right after he prayed for God to save him, the low oxygen and his spinning fall caused him to pass out. He regained consciousness in the Saint Nazaire Train Station in Germany. His fall had been broken by the a skylight in the roof. He not only miraculously survived but fully recovered from the many injuries he'd sustained both in the aircraft and in his serendipitous landing.

We're fascinated by life and death. This is evidenced by the preponderance of law and medical dramas on television. Faced with imminent mortality the stakes of decisions seem much higher. It can bring out the best or worst in people. Death, or the real threat thereof, seems to reveal our true character and values. But perhaps even more intriguing is those who cling to life tenaciously, to cheat death when it seems most inevitable.

A Higher Call tells the tale of German fighter pilot Franz Stigler who encountered a badly damaged B-17 bomber. The holes in the plane were so large he could see the crew bandaging up injured members. In an act of treason (for which his own country could have executed him) he not only spared the enemy bomber, but escorted it safely to the North Sea before saluting the pilot and turning for home. The stories of those who persevere to survive the most extreme adversity imaginable are interesting, but those of heroes who make decisions which value the lives of others above their own are what I hope amaze and inspire us all.

John 12:25 Those who love their life in this world will lose it. Those who care nothing for their life in this world will keep it for eternity.

But there's something more that runs in almost every positive World War II story: Virtue, Faith, God. During the war, the center of morality for the majority of Americans in the armed forces was the Bible. During World War II 65% of young Americans claimed the Bible as the compass for the way they lived. Today that number is 4%. How odd it seems that during such a tumultuous time people looked to God for guidance; even odder--that we look elsewhere in this current time of prosperity.

Do we turn to God when things are going poorly and forget about him when things seem to be going well? It seems plausible in light of the World War II quote attributed to William T. Cummings, "There are no atheists in foxholes." I imagine most of us, atheist or not, have broken down in a time of extreme distress to pray, "God, please get me out of this!" Faith is what made The Greatest Generation great. While certainly many of them took a strong Christian faith into the war, I have no doubt that many of them only found God in the worst of times.

After the B-24 Bomber, Green Hornet, he'd been assigned to crashed in the Pacific, Louis Zamperini, the subject of Unbroken, found God in the war. Floating in a rotting lifeboat with no shelter, food or water, surrounded by sharks, he cried out to God for help. He'd struggle with faith during his return to civilian life, but eventually he remembered the promise he made to God, “If you get me through this, if you answer my prayers, I swear, I’ll dedicate my whole life to you. I’ll do whatever you want.” Years after the war Zamperini made a couple trips to Japan to see the men who'd been guards in the POW camp where he'd been mistreated nearly to the point of near death. He went not to spit in their faces, but to forgive them. That's something only a man of deep faith would do.

Zamperini was the Bombardier on the crew of this B-24 which crashed on a rescue mission

Where are we now after seventy five years of economic prosperity? The United States of America today leads the world in broken families, abortion rate, sexually transmitted disease, violent crime, teen suicide, divorce rate. We also hold the distinction of highest prison population per capita. Post World War, we led the world economically for more than half a decade, but as of 2014 USA is ranked #10 in personal prosperity. Is our decline the result of having it so easy for so long? Have we been chasing the almighty dollar so long that we forgot the Almighty is chasing us?

Perhaps the lottery offers an apt illustration. Most people (myself included) have dropped a few bucks on a lottery ticket at least once in their lifetime. At the very least, we've all dreamed about how we would spend such winnings. But the stories of many who have reaped that sudden windfall are that of misery. In fact the majority of lottery winners end up spending almost half of their winnings in less than 5 years. Within 25 years the majority of them are flat broke.

It's actually more likely that a person would die on their way to buy a ticket than it is to win Powerball or Mega Millions. In fact it's more likely someone would be killed by a vending machine than it is to be the winner of either of these two lotteries. Most importantly, while the odds of winning one of these mega lotteries are less than 1 in 150 billion, the odds that you will die someday are 1 in 1. Which leads us back to the discussion on our fascination with death.

Ecclesiastes 9:12 
Moreover, no one knows when their hour will come: As fish are caught in a cruel net, or birds are taken in a snare, so people are trapped by evil times that fall unexpectedly upon them.

None of us know for certain we will have a tomorrow. We might live to be a hundred and two. We might have a piece of space junk fall on us later today (the odds of that are somewhere between 1 in a billion and 1 in a trillion depending who you ask). Still, rather than dreaming and scheming for our future maybe we should live like there is no tomorrow.

How many dollars will you need when your life is over? Will people remember you for being prosperous or will they remember you for being a good friend, parent, mentor? Wouldn't love and forgiveness solve most of the problems we have?  Wouldn't it be a better place if we all lived by the simple rules that Jesus taught us?

Matthew 22:37-39 
“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”
Jesus replied: “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’

Matthew 7:12
So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you

If you were looking down the barrel of a gun . . . or in a plane that was crashing . . . or about to be crushed by space junk . . . or killed by a renegade vending machine wouldn't you pray, "God, please get me out of this."?

What are you waiting for?

© Scott Noble 2015