It was rather sad today. Kira, our dog, wanted to chase a hungry coyote to the detriment of her life. My husband left on a business trip. The lone walk with the dog along the bike trail punctuated by laughter and music from backyard parties only highlighted the loneliness. Kira was sad too because she was leash bound since she likes to play dangerously chasing coyotes.
To break the monotony of watching oil spills and politics, I started watching the reruns of The Band of Brothers. A WWII mini series which I had seen years ago. It was created to perfection for most parts and I remembered most of it. I admired the details in the color and material of the uniforms; the simple life of living without cell phones, computers and even a television. People could and would communicate without those interferences; slowing down life, if only long enough to stimulate the imagination. I am sure that generation of innovators would have plugged up the oil spill by now.
I could see riding around on those old WWII military motorcycles built for two; although it looked scary on those unpaved roads; it was war and I would be counting my days anyway.
I thought it would be really great to belong to "a band of brothers," specially as the only female.
They were on an honorable mission and had to stick together come rain or shine; hell or high water, snow or whatever. I was drawn into the atmospheric smoldering gray countryside of that war era through the subliminal ghostly trumpeting notes fading away in the distance; reminiscent of fallen soldiers who died for our freedom resounding their courage to continue on with the good fight for freedom and our own personal destiny.
Romanticizing the era of a simpler life and wishing I had belonged to that' band of brothers' on that glorious mission when.....
....coming upon an unsuspecting regiment of German soldiers, they machine gunned the living daylights through every one of them with one last assassination shot through the head...
well...maybe, not, so romantic.
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