For a brief—really brief—moment in time, I wanted to name this print, "Starfish."
Uh. Yeah. Starfish.
It would have been a dumb title, I know. But give my logic it's due.
Ok. There's an oft-told story about a kid running along a beach at low tide, picking up stranded starfish and tossing them into the surf before the hot sun would bake them to death. The beach was long and there were thousands of the little creatures drying in heat as the life-giving water receded.
Off in the distance, a man stood watching the futile attempts of the little boy and finally decided to set the kid straight. Approaching the frantic rescuer, he interrupted, "You do realize that you can't possibly rescue all these poor creatures. There's too many and it won't make a difference in the grand scheme anyway as they'll just die another day."
The boy paused, thought for a minute, then picked up yet another starfish and threw it far into the respite of the foaming waves. Turning to the man he replied, "But it made a difference to that one."
Ok. Hold that thought.
Warfare shouldn't happen. But it does. In spite of all it's horror, it's inevitable that another will come along. And to this point, I think it's good to face facts—though peace is always the first choice, the only thing worse than war is war done badly. In other words, if we're going to have war, lets do it right. And do it "right" like any management process—become faster, better, cheaper. Yeah, it's warped...but wouldn't the world have been a better place if the Reichstag could have been obliterated by a Cruise Missile in 1939? Specifically July 19? (click the pic below if you'd like to learn more).
War is hell, but what do ya' do?!
And yet, as inevitable as the next war is, there's something in (most) of us that holds out hope that something, somehow, someway can be done to, well, make a difference. Even if it's apparently futile.
That's why I considered—briefly—naming the print of North Vietnamese fighter pilot Nguyen Hong My's MiG-21 and Bob Mock/John Stiles' RF-4C, "Starfish." See, Hong My and John Stiles, former enemies in a particularly nasty war, are now genuinely friends. Somehow, someway, time and tide worked against the cynical, the inevitable and unfortunate to pluck these two guys off the hot beach and throw them back into the sea of humanity.
Look at the picture below. That's John and My and My's two grandkids.
Wow. Just wow...
And downstairs, our camera-man is on his umpteenth hoot'n holler toast with a bunch of people he just met, in spite of the fact that they couldn't understand a word each other was saying...
Good times. Good, good times.
And so I named it The History Lesson.
Because somehow, someway, I believe someone, somewhere can learn something from this.
I know I have.
And if you click the graphic below, you can see the result of the whole trip. No Starfish though. Just a good "History Lesson."
www.oldguysandtheirairplanes.com
No starfish. Just a good History Lesson.
