A Cautionary Tale
Once upon a time there was a young country
that came to the aid of others—not just once, but every day, in nearly every way.
While many of the others appreciated the assistance,
some resented their plight of helplessness and blamed not themselves, but those
who came from the helping hand.
Others’ hate formed from simple jealousy. And
the young country unknowingly nurtured their hate, only to find themselves facing a …
DIMOUT (aka dim-out; dimʹout’) n.
– a dimming or reduction of the night lighting, as in a city, to make it less
easily visible, as to enemy aircraft. [WW #131]
Never a word taken lightly, dimout was not
born from electrical glitches or a synonym for brownouts caused by lack of
available energy. This word is a product of war.
Your parents, grandparents, or
great-grandparents may recall this warning word from yesteryear. Those old
enough in the 1940s’ Hawaii, California,*
and New York City especially, recall the days dimouts were
not for practice. Today, if not for radar and
other high-tech detection means, dimouts still would be relevant.
(*One such, San Luis Obispo
Telegram-Telegraph, August 18, 1942.)
The first Cold War was
in effect as I struggled to learn junior high math. Dimouts were still
referred to, and though well past WWII, we were instructed in preparations for
war. I still can’t believe that in the case of bombing while we’re at school,
we were instructed to dive under our desks. Alrighty then.
Once past the Sixties, we—the world—enjoyed relative
peace, except for the hotspots of the Middle East, and of course, Vietnam.
Though that too, was winding down.
It never occurred to me that we would be in
such heightened circumstances again, in my lifetime. Yet here we are. And make no mistake, this
has been building from the remnants of the Cold War. It isn’t due to any one president or leadership.
It comes from our intolerance of others—in different
countries, different lifestyles, different skin colors, different religions,
different politics. But with all our differences, we should be PROUD of
whatever country we claim citizenship. Especially born or naturalized citizens
of the United States.
I feel the privilege. I was born here. (Though
far from a “privileged” lifestyle; that has a definition all its own.) My
ancestors however, were immigrants at one time, just like EVERYONE’S, except
the Native Americans. And I don’t believe in pseudo-exotic (once derogatory) hyphenated nationality,
claiming my heritage as “Irish-American.” I’m American. Period. And proud of
it.
It's painful to see the hate from other countries spreading within our borders and threatening to tear us apart. if you’re a naturalized citizen—you have
come here to make the United States a permanent home for you and your family.
That means you feel THIS country is better and offers more opportunities than
the one you were born in; so why are many immigrants, legal or illegal, resistant to learn the language and participate in the society that was here
when they arrived?
If you are U.S. born-and-bred, and have been to a struggling nation and affected by the difference between what you have and what they
have, how can you disrespect our flag or national anthem—or even the history
on which America was built? For those who haven't been abroad, we have, for better or worse, the Internet
where you can see the poverty without traveling.
And that goes double for those who fought to
get here, only to turn, on the very generosity that allowed you the freedom you
sought.
More questions to ponder: Why is our flag violated? Why is the national anthem shunned? Why can’t our two primary parties work together for OUR common good? Why is there so much hate in a country that tries desperately to please everyone—and ultimately pleases no one?
More questions to ponder: Why is our flag violated? Why is the national anthem shunned? Why can’t our two primary parties work together for OUR common good? Why is there so much hate in a country that tries desperately to please everyone—and ultimately pleases no one?
We can blame a poorly run country on the
politicians and humans’ irritatingly inherent capacity for corruption. We can
blame the architect of humanity that created our differences. But don’t hate the
country. America does not deserve your disrespect. Individuals, perhaps, but not the nation.
Unfortunately, we have learned nothing over
the past millennia. There will always be wars. There will always be other countries that hate us—as a nation. Only our elders at this point, know
the stress of dimouts because of it; once again though, “The Times, They are a-Changin’.”
Lastly, will the next war ravage U.S. soil? Will
our citizens realize soon enough the privileges we—as a country—need to defend,
together?
The apparent answers are unnerving. How will
this young country’s fabled story end? It’s up to you.
In dimout nor in bright lights, bite
not, the land that feeds you.
Word Challenge: DIMOUT.
Contemplate your place in home, community, city, country, and society,
as you fit dimout into your week of serious writings.
Write first for
yourself … only then can you write for others. (L.Rochelle)
E-N-D
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