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6:32 a.m. - 2004-11-12

DO VETERINARIANS REALLY NEED THEIR OWN HOLIDAY?

Since when did Veterans Day become a major holiday?

Believe me ... I'm all for taking the day off from work and sitting at home and running phrases through my head like "Those veterans ... wow!" and "Veterans are cool!"

My grandfather was a veteran of the Korean War. He went to Korea, shot him some Koreans, got shot himself, was awarded a few Purple Hearts, came back to America and promptly became a raging alcoholic, unable to live with the memories of killing innocent people in a foreign land. These memories drove him crazy to the point where he died amidst a pile of empty vodka bottles.

Go veterans! Go!!

But ya know what? Not once yesterday did I sit and think "Gramps. Wow! You were a heckuva veteran!"

Y'know why??

BECAUSE I WAS ONE OF THE FEW PEOPLE ACTUALLY FUCKING WORKING YESTERDAY.

I'm driving around town, picking up pee and blood and get to this one doctor's office who does sports medicine.

They're closed.

I'm thinking "Man. I must be early or something". So I put the stop at the end of my route and go back at the end.

Still closed.

At that point, I slap my forehead and say aloud "Shit! Veteran's Day!"

Yes, the doctor and his staff took the day off because of Veteran's Day.

Because the actual act of sitting at home and honoring veterans is more important than rehabbing some high school football player's knee, right?

That is ... if people actually took the time to reminisce about veterans. I'd say 97% of people that get Veterans Day off spend it watching "The Price Is Right" or wandering the aisles of Walmart.

So I get home, check the mail and the mailbox is empty.

I'm thinking "Don't tell me my wife got home before me"!!

Then I slap my forehead and say aloud "Shit! Veterans Day!"

Yes, even the postman needs eight solid hours of reflecting on the veterans that have touched his life and America.

I go inside, gather my stuff for the DJ job and drive the TWENTY F'N MILES back in to town to go to work at my second job.

I drive up to the club and notice "Gosh. It sure looks dark in the parking lot."

There's not a single car in the parking lot. Not one.

I pull around to the back of the club so I can unload my stuff.

I go to the door to open it.

Locked.

The first thing I think is "They must have closed down the club permanently" because that's already happened to me once this year and nobody bothered to call me.

Then, the slap on the forehead.

And the customary "Shit! Veteran's Day!"

So I drive BACK home 20 freakin' miles.

At least I got to watch "Survivor" where they voted off ... that's right ... the Veteran.

MORAL OF THE STORY: No matter how hard we try to honor the Vets, they're still going to get voted off "Survivor".

(Just call me "Aesop")

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