Today is the 70th anniversary of Pearl Harbor. For those of you younger than I am, this means it is the 70th anniversary of the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, not the founding thereof. You have to explain this to people because, well, 70 years have passed.
The date is important to some of us, mostly really older people who actually remember it, but also to those of us somewhat younger who are history buffs. But, to be honest, it means nothing to most Americans. And that is something to think about.
As Americans, we are amazingly self-absorbed and, well, a little grandiose. Whatever happens in our life time is, somehow, the most important or difficult or wonderful or terrible thing that ever happened. Whatever bad happens, we are convinced that everyone will always remember it. We are wrong.
We actually have kind of a mania about these things. We name bridges and roads and trucks and elementary schools and courthouses for people who no one will know in 20 years. We have argued endlessly over how to "memorialize" the World Trade Center attack of 10 years ago, to no one's satisfaction. We have gotten worse over time, as we add more and more "memorials" to whatever someone wants memorialized. Once upon a time, we had the Washington, Lincoln, and Jefferson Memorials, which were plenty. Now we have Korean War and WWII and Vietnam Memorials. Soon, I suppose, we will have WWI and Spanish-American War memorials.
We argue over old battlefields. If someone wants to build something near the location of the Battle of Bull Run, there are always people to argue that we have to "maintain the sanctity" of the battle site, as if the deaths of soldiers 160 years ago will somehow be impacted. None of those old soldiers would mind children playing at a McDonald's in the area of the battle.
We keep little museums of meaninglessness. Here where I live, we have a childhood home of Woodrow Wilson, one of the least competent and most destructive Presidents who ever lived. It is a museum, of course. Near here, we also have a museum to Laurel and Hardy, because Oliver Hardy once lived in that town. Does it seem odd to keep museums to both Presidents and comics? Well, yeah, it does.
In our little museums (and at our little memorials), we keep all kinds of things for people to look at. Here is Hardy's childhood bathtub. Here is a replica of a comb that Woodrow Wilson might have used. Over here, we have a bed taken from somewhere in Alabama that looks like the kind of bed that the owner of this home might have had. At Stone Mountain, there is a plantation memorial made up of houses that never were there, but were somewhere else and were moved there because they look something like what we think might have been there back when it was a plantation. Come see our fictional historical site!
We are fools for history. We spend so much money on museums and memorials. With regard to 9/11, we even paid millions to people just for being related to the people who died. We don't do this for people whose families died in car accidents, but, of course, they aren't connected to something important we can feel good spending money on.
Can't we stop this nonsense for a minute? I do not want Pearl Harbor kept "pristine," I want people to live. I care nothing for one of many houses where Woodrow Wilson once lived, why not use them for something useful? Who cares if Oliver Hardy once lived near here? He wasn't famous here. His museum ought to be in Hollywood, if anywhere at all.
Most of all, let's quit tying everyone's hands, litigating every plan, and demanding recognition for whatever matters to us. I care about the attack on Pearl Harbor and remember it, but I cannot insist that my son, born 52 years later, care a lot about it.
At the rate we are going, soon we won't be able to build anywhere or do anything for all the rules and regulations. Our soldiers and sailors and civilians died at Pearl Harbor because they believed in an America of growth, of freedom, of individual value and purpose. Let's not get so tied up in history that we miss these things.
The date is important to some of us, mostly really older people who actually remember it, but also to those of us somewhat younger who are history buffs. But, to be honest, it means nothing to most Americans. And that is something to think about.
As Americans, we are amazingly self-absorbed and, well, a little grandiose. Whatever happens in our life time is, somehow, the most important or difficult or wonderful or terrible thing that ever happened. Whatever bad happens, we are convinced that everyone will always remember it. We are wrong.
We actually have kind of a mania about these things. We name bridges and roads and trucks and elementary schools and courthouses for people who no one will know in 20 years. We have argued endlessly over how to "memorialize" the World Trade Center attack of 10 years ago, to no one's satisfaction. We have gotten worse over time, as we add more and more "memorials" to whatever someone wants memorialized. Once upon a time, we had the Washington, Lincoln, and Jefferson Memorials, which were plenty. Now we have Korean War and WWII and Vietnam Memorials. Soon, I suppose, we will have WWI and Spanish-American War memorials.
We argue over old battlefields. If someone wants to build something near the location of the Battle of Bull Run, there are always people to argue that we have to "maintain the sanctity" of the battle site, as if the deaths of soldiers 160 years ago will somehow be impacted. None of those old soldiers would mind children playing at a McDonald's in the area of the battle.
We keep little museums of meaninglessness. Here where I live, we have a childhood home of Woodrow Wilson, one of the least competent and most destructive Presidents who ever lived. It is a museum, of course. Near here, we also have a museum to Laurel and Hardy, because Oliver Hardy once lived in that town. Does it seem odd to keep museums to both Presidents and comics? Well, yeah, it does.
In our little museums (and at our little memorials), we keep all kinds of things for people to look at. Here is Hardy's childhood bathtub. Here is a replica of a comb that Woodrow Wilson might have used. Over here, we have a bed taken from somewhere in Alabama that looks like the kind of bed that the owner of this home might have had. At Stone Mountain, there is a plantation memorial made up of houses that never were there, but were somewhere else and were moved there because they look something like what we think might have been there back when it was a plantation. Come see our fictional historical site!
We are fools for history. We spend so much money on museums and memorials. With regard to 9/11, we even paid millions to people just for being related to the people who died. We don't do this for people whose families died in car accidents, but, of course, they aren't connected to something important we can feel good spending money on.
Can't we stop this nonsense for a minute? I do not want Pearl Harbor kept "pristine," I want people to live. I care nothing for one of many houses where Woodrow Wilson once lived, why not use them for something useful? Who cares if Oliver Hardy once lived near here? He wasn't famous here. His museum ought to be in Hollywood, if anywhere at all.
Most of all, let's quit tying everyone's hands, litigating every plan, and demanding recognition for whatever matters to us. I care about the attack on Pearl Harbor and remember it, but I cannot insist that my son, born 52 years later, care a lot about it.
At the rate we are going, soon we won't be able to build anywhere or do anything for all the rules and regulations. Our soldiers and sailors and civilians died at Pearl Harbor because they believed in an America of growth, of freedom, of individual value and purpose. Let's not get so tied up in history that we miss these things.