M Is for Monday, Medicare, and Memories (Why I Didn’t Write a 9/11 Post)

Oh lord, is it that time already?  First the AARP membership, then the Social Security, now Medicare.  My 65th birthday is rapidly approaching, and with it the transition from Tricare (the military’s medical insurance plan for retirees) to Medicare.  Last month I applied for a Medicare card from the Social Security office.  Today I drove out to the air base to get a new ID card, one that makes me eligible for the military medical insurance supplement to Medicare.  I’ll be a young and vigorous 64 for six more weeks … better enjoy it while it lasts.

By a process of logical deduction I have determined I was 54 on the morning of September 11, 2001.  I was 17 on the day of JFK’s assassination; 21 on the days RFK and MLK were shot; 39 the morning the Challenger blew up.  It took a long time, but JFK, RFK, and MLK finally feel like history.  The Challenger disaster still has that this-decade smell to it, though it happened 25 years ago.  The attacks of 9/11 remain fresh and raw; they might have happened yesterday.

That’s really all I have to say about 9/11.  I thought about trying to write something yesterday but something in me said no, enough already.  I did watch a special on TV, and that was all the destruction porn I could stand.  This morning, when I heard about the accident at the nuclear waste facility in France, my first thought was “accident my ass,” but then realized I was reacting they way our leaders and our ever-compliant media have been training us to react for the past ten years … terrorists!

I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a little less police state and a lot more Live Free or Die.

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