My life is chaos, and yet I remain frighteningly calm.  To the flood of inquiry, best summarized as "written lately, Shakespeare?", I say as humbly as age requires, yes, and thanks for the spitballs -- to wit:

                                                                     ***
                                 Oh, beautiful for heroes proved in liberating strife,
                    who more than self their country loved, and mercy more than life!
                                                                          -- Katherine Lee Bates

                                                                     ***

My late friend Ned graduated high school on June 6, 1944.  A few months later he was somewhere between Normandy and Berlin.  He got by with a little help from his friends, and together they put down the devil's own, and changed this world forever.

                                                                     ***

                                  ...little note, nor long remember...     -- A. Lincoln

                                                                     ***

On the 50th anniversary, Ned recalled all that for a few of us "weren't there - didn't do that" baby boomers.  Then he sadly wondered if the day would come when no one would remember what all that was all about.

Distressed, we insisted they would remember, and told him why, but to no effect.  He shook his head and looked away.

With no way to change that mind, I changed tack, and got a compromise.  

"Well, Ned, you may be right.  One day they will forget."

He slowly looked over, out of the corner of his eye - on which I locked and leaned forward.

"But not while we're alive, Ned, not while we're alive."

He allowed a small smile, then a sharp nod, and the deal was done.

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