The last Meditation seemed to exhaust the ready reserve supply. So it was my thought to put the Meditation series aside and go on to other projects unless there was a celestial sign that further work on this series would be met with ecclesiastical acclaim. In the middle of the seventh inning at Yankee Stadium, Kate Smith sang a recorded 1945 version of “God Bless America” during which Verna, my renowned sister spoke from the sky and said to me, “Write another Meditation.” Verna is now an Arch Angel so it must be assumed that further Meditations will have canonical blessings. And so here is another Meditation which is intended to get Verna off my case.
Verse 1: CLAYTON 714-J
After my father found a job in 1933 or 1934, the Carr family was able to subscribe to telephone service offered by Southwestern Bell. It was a four party line so all the other people knew when an incoming call occurred. On outgoing calls, if someone was on the line, it was necessary to wait for them to end their discussion before another party could make a call. Calls were kept reasonably short as a matter of courtesy. Aimless gossip was exchanged at the peril of other people on the four party system hearing it.
All of this comes to mind after hearing the mindless meanderings of cell phone users. There seems to be no limit on what they will talk about and for how long. For example, you may recall my Meditations about Myrtle’s Ovulation. Last Thursday, a ten year old boy was speaking on a cell phone as he and his mother were shopping. He said such things as, “Like why did he say that” or “Like, I don’t know. Search me.” All of this passes for the transmission of thought processes. He is a kid who will grow up to hassle other passengers on trains and buses with the vacancy of his thought processes.
If such stupid inanities were exchanged over the four party line at Clayton 714-J, the other subscribers would have complained loudly and in all likelihood, would have been joined by the operator. The words are clear after all these years. “If you want to discuss all that trash, get a one party line.” The fact is that single party service was so expensive that most folks during the Depression were forced to subscribe to party line service.
To bring closure, as today’s pundits say, we have not ridden the train to New York for awhile so it is impossible for us to say whether Myrtle’s ovulation resulted in the desired pregnancy. We will keep our ears open for further developments which will inevitably be discussed by riders using cell phones.
Verse 2: HOLY WEEK IN QUEENS
America’s premier evangelist Billy Graham, wound up his “crusade” on Sunday after three days of bringing the gospel to the natives. People came from Canada and Tennessee and the Carolinas to attend the extravaganza. Significantly, old Billy was not preaching to New York heathens, but to born-again believers from out of town. But when the believers answer his call to the altar, he claimed each one as a new-born sinner who has been persuaded by Graham’s call to glory. Objective observers would say Graham’s conversions are grossly inflated.
Graham was accompanied at his crusade by his son and successor, Franklin, who has repeatedly announced that the Moslem faith is nothing more than an idol-worshipping sect. When you couple this with his father’s denunciation of Jews in a recorded conversation with Richard Nixon, we have two alleged holy men preaching hatred of all who don’t subscribe to their distorted view of Christianity. Billy and Franklin are insular preachers who have not yet tumbled to the existence of Buddhists and Hindus or dozens of other faiths. If those other religions ever appear on Graham’s radar screen, stand by for further denunciations of those faiths as infidels, apostates and idol worshipers.
As Billy closed his crusade in Queens, he more or less demanded repentance from everybody. If you don’t have a reason to repent, it would be advisable to sin egregiously thereby giving a strong reason for repentance to please old Billy.
Curiously, Billy’s last day of his crusade coincided with the Gay Pride parade in Manhattan. Mayor Bloomberg attended the gay parade and did not appear at Billy’s crusade. But he is a Jew and Billy and Nixon dislike them intensely. A passing thought that if repentance is required of anyone, it should be Billy and Franklin and all those born again Christians repenting for their conduct to Jews and Moslems and to the homosexual community. But folks, don’t expect that to happen in our lifetimes.
Verse Three: INSIPIDITY IN MEDICAL OFFICES
Age creeps up on all of us. Inevitably, as people age, they require the attention of all kinds of physicians. Acquiring treatment from the medicos is made much less pleasant by having to sit in the physician’s waiting room listening to daytime television programs. It seems that every physician feels an obligation to entertain patients as they wait to tell their problems to the doctor. Daytime television programs are insipid, vapid, banal and devoid of any respectable quality. They don’t entertain, they agitate.
In days gone by, it was enough for physician’s waiting rooms to be equipped with old magazines. These days, people try to read those old magazines as one means of shutting out the intrusion of unwelcome television programming.
It seems to me that physicians ought to take the TV sets out of their waiting rooms. An intelligent person visiting the doctor for a trivial matter may be transformed into a patient with greater problems by having to watch or hear daytime TV, thus becoming a mean, cynical and hypocritical sort of person.
This opinion is delivered only to those covered by Medicare and no-fault insurance. All the rest are to be diagnosed by Senator/Doctor Bill Frist who found from a TV picture that Terri Schiavo had no sign of a persistent vegetative state. But at least Frist does not have a television in his waiting room. He makes it up as he goes along.
Verse Four: SIGNBOARD SYNDROME
Last week, Donald Rumsfeld, the Emperor of Abu Ghraib, testified before a committee of the Senate. At the table with Rumsfeld, sat four officers of general rank. In the first two rows behind Rumsfeld were other officers who appeared to me to be two to four start generals. Rumsfeld is well protected. This assemblage of generals is there to pick up any papers that might be dropped by the Emperor.
Every officer present had on the left side of the jacket of his uniform, a virtual signboard of ribbons. My count showed they were stacked eight rows high and that each row of ribbons contained at least six or seven decorations. This means the aides to Emperor Rumsfeld were wearing in this one block of ribbons about 48 or more than 50 decorations. An uninitiated onlooker might conclude that each of these clowns had committed 48 or more individual acts of heroism. Don’t be mislead.
Looking at the sign boards on these Rumsfeld retainers led me to recall a line from Henry Mencken who would have said that this seductive display of ribbons glittered, flashed and sparkled as the mouth of hell itself. But wait. That is not all. On top of the rows of ribbons were pins signifying pilot status or infantry leadership. Below the ribbons were one or two more pins signifying who knows what.
On the right side of the jacket were two more ribbons probably signifying a unit commendation from the president and there were more pins.
On both shoulders were patches identifying the organizations they must have been assigned to at some point in their illustrious careers. The straps on their shoulders sported the stars of their rank. In case anyone missed the point, the shirt collars also carried the general’s stars on both the left and right sides. If these red hot generals were ever caught in a lightening storm, they would be certain to attract a bolt what with all this metal above their waists.
Now here is a secret you should know. These men did not participate in anything like 48 acts of bravery. We give medals and ribbons for such things as good conduct. The generals award other generals medals and ribbons because of “superior” performance. No one ever heard of an enlisted man who was the recipient of the general’s largesse. They keep that for themselves and it explains why their uniform jackets glitter, flash and sparkle as the mouth of hell itself.
There is one other thought about the “Signboard Syndrome.” No other military organization in the civilized world dresses up its uniforms as does the United States. They must believe our actions are bizarre and of a piece with our stated intention to police the world. Significantly, General Vo Nguyen Giap from Vietnam who defeated first the French and then the forces of the U.S., wears no decorations at all. As a matter of fact, it is difficult to find evidence of his rank. He doesn’t glitter, gleam and flash like the mouth of hell itself. He presents himself as a simple soldier unadorned by the “signboard syndrome.”
There is no hope here, as long as generals can decorate other generals, this mockery of bravery will continue to persist.
*****
When my sister Verna was here on earth, she enjoyed telling other people what to do . Her service as an Arch Angel has not robbed her of the desire to suggest to other people actions that would please her. Verna was delayed in reading this Meditation because she had mislaid her angelic spectacles. Also, a dark stain was found on her long white gown near where her wings emerge. Once these problems were solved, she suggested strongly that she would be pleased to see at least one more Meditation. To please Verna, it will be produced forthwith – whatever that means.
E. E. CARR
July 1, 2005
~~~
Not to worry — there are a solid nine more meditations in the pipes. I’m a huge fan of these.
For fun, try image searching for “General Petraeus Medals” he basically has a square foot of crap on his chest, with all sorts of other adornments festooning every available surface.
But Pop is wrong to insinuate that we’re alone in this absurd practice. Plenty of other countries do it, including several African countries, and of course North Korea, which is probably the best one. North Korean generals look like this:

I wonder what they do when the front of the general runs out of space. Do you start affixing medals to their backs? Their pants? Their hats? So many options!