I'm 60 years old and I live in the U.S.

For half my life I figured out that my country has been at war, in Viet Nam, in Korea, in the Gulf, or somewhere.

When my time came, I joined up and marched. I was shot at, and I came through it unwounded.

Now my country has a doctrine of "pre-emptive strikes" -- that seems to me to be like Pearl Harbor under a different name. I see people who lost good, well paying jobs they'd held for years who now don't have insurance and are living from hand to mouth, scratching out money for them and their families. Some of my friends go to the VA for injuries received in combat, but the VA money and availability has been cut at the same time we're bringing more wounded home from another war. The environment is in shambles, the land raped for the profit of a few.

These thoughts came to me when I was listing to the song "Pat In America" on the Gallant Sons of Erin's "No Irish need apply" CD.

Arrah, do boys, do take my advice
To America I'd have you not be coming,
For there is nothing here but war,
And the murdering cannon's roar,
Faith I wish I was at home in Dear Old Erin.

Yes, I'm depressed.