Sum Yung Sun, newly turned 14, is as enamored of knights as he was at age 4.   New Year's Day we drove down to Myrtle Beach and spent the evening at Medieval Times. Sum Yung Sun did not find the Myrtle Beach castle exterior as impressive as the Kissimmee, Fl., castle. Neither of them, obviously, hold a candle to the castle found by Amos' friend.

But Sum Yung Sun was still all agog at the gewgaws that Medieval Times wants you there and hour-and-a-half early to have plenty of time to buy.   It was also a rare treat for him to eat with his fingers without his mother glaring at him, or kicking him under the table. The horses were really lovely.   Our Champion did not die until the very end, although neither of us could cheer for him as loudly as the Master-of-Ceremonies exhorted us to due to our dust allergies. I was tossed the obligatory carnation duly kissed by our Knight in Green (having paid the extra twenty dollars for preferred seating and the flag to wave.) Nonetheless, I could not help but wish to see my brother, the Bard MMario, suddenly appear to entertain us at our dining. In addition, though aware the 11th century was a bit too soon, I half expected my brother Rapaire to apparate into the arena during the jousting and dueling with broad swords and maces, laughing scornfully at the knights gallant, besting all of them with his half pike, and riding off with the princess and the King's blessing.



Next day, we drove to Wilmington and spent 3 hours going through the USS North Carolina Battleship Memorial.   This past summer we had explored the USS Constitution, a WWII submarine, and a Coast Guard vessel at the Baltimore inner-harbor Maritime Museum. At that time, this Mom was concerned that Sum Yung Sun was enamored of the weaponry technology without regard to what it was like for the humans involved. It was reassuring to note that 6 months later, while still quite taken with the weaponry technology, he is also beginning to grasp the human element. He was very interested in reading the posted personal recollections of some of those who served on the North Carolina. The personal recollections focused on what daily life was like for 2000+ young men to live in very close quarters on a huge steel ship that spent most of it's time in the South Pacific.   He began to make connections between what he was seeing and reading, and his maternal grandfather's recollections of his own experience serving in the Merchant Marines during WWII. I have hope that the Quaker school we moved him to in 6th grade is beginning to show some influence. I don't know who he will ultimately be. I don't know if he will eschew violence. But I have reason to hope he will think things through before deciding, and that he will have a moral compass to help guide him.

My Dad was a helmsman on Texaco Tankers throughout the war. He only began talking about that experience about 10 years ago. One thing that always strikes me is how heedless he was at age 18 about the peril he was in.   Sailing up the East Coast from Port Arthur or from the refineries up the Mississippi to New York to rendezvous for convoys across the North Atlantic, he says at that age he was simply sure that death could not find him, despite his awareness of the u-boat attacks, seeing other merchant ships go down, and his involvement in rescuing sailors from disabled or sinking ships. I never had that complete heedlessness. One of three sisters and no brothers, I wonder if it is a 'guy' thing. I see it in my son. It concerns me. So anything that indicates some thoughtfulness is reassuring.

In mid-December, my sister and I hosted a large party for my parents 60th wedding anniversary My dad's sister spoke. She is 6 years younger than Dad, and they had two older brothers, both of whom were in the Army during WWII. My aunt described she and my grandparents gathering around the radio nightly to listen to news of the war, not knowing where any of the boys were, exactly, and always wondering and worrying about their well-being, and what the news might mean in those personal terms.   Afterward, Dad commented that it never occurred to him during those years of war what it was like for his parents and sister. Apparently, neither he nor his brothers had any real sense of their own peril, and therefore no appreciation of the anxiety of those who did. What they all had then, that none of them have now, is blind faith in the leadership of our country to ultimately do what is right.

The Memorial is really quite impressive. A battleship that large is impressive, in and of itself. The self-guided tour is extensive and thorough. What impressed me most, is that it did not, in any way, glorify war, battle, fighting.   It is real and sincere. It acknowledges and values sacrifice, but does not aggrandize either the war or the the sacrifice at all.

I don't know if I would have been a pacifist during WWII. I do know, being a child of the Vietnam era, that I cannot blindly follow the leaders of my country into war. I can not trust the leaders of my country in any respect whatsoever.

I know this post ain't been much in the way of BS, but MOM is generally pretty forgiving of non-BS transgressions.

There has got to be a better way.