A couple of years ago (as an ageing [aging?] old fart, time has lost all meaning to me) I checked your site daily, as one of the few that I found interesting and intelligent. Then either you really slowed down or I lost track (once again, I attribute this more to my antiquity than anything else) and damn near forgot the site existed.
Glad to see you’re still around and kicking. My father is a World War II vet, fought at Bastogne (101st Airborne), and after hostilities had wound down to an unimpressive level, they were shipped off to Paris. According to him, the French people in the countryside were warm, friendly, affable, caring, and eager to get to know their new American buddies. When they got to Paris, he said he suddenly understood why the Army saw fit to confiscate their ammo before letting them loose.
Anyway, keep writing for a few more years, and you’ll make my twilight tolerable.
Mike
A couple of years ago (as an ageing [aging?] old fart, time has lost all meaning to me) I checked your site daily, as one of the few that I found interesting and intelligent. Then either you really slowed down or I lost track (once again, I attribute this more to my antiquity than anything else) and damn near forgot the site existed. Glad to see you’re still around and kicking. My father is a World War II vet, fought at Bastogne (101st Airborne), and after hostilities had wound down to an unimpressive level, they were shipped off to Paris. According to him, the French people in the countryside were warm, friendly, affable, caring, and eager to get to know their new American buddies. When they got to Paris, he said he suddenly understood why the Army saw fit to confiscate their ammo before letting them loose. Anyway, keep writing for a few more years, and you’ll make my twilight tolerable. Mike