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"I don't support our military." 

Doesn't that statement just take you aback?  Well, someone said it to me... 

After a long day at work, I need to run to the store and get some last minute essentials - bread, milk, etc.  I decide to bypass the commissary on base and run into my local big-name, over-priced grocery store because it was only a few blocks from my home.

I'm slowly making it up and down the isles, throwing extra crackers and a few candy bars in my cart - I do this because I always forget to write down my grocery list and everyone KNOWS you spend 40% more at the grocery store if your not constantly referring to a list.  Personally, I think it's because you can't hold on to the thing and you end up spending the majority of your time fumbling through your purse in search of the narrow slip of paper that holds your "healthy" food list - You can't throw the candy in the cart when your head is down while you roll through the isle.

ANYWAY.  I digress.  I like to use the self checkout isles, but they are full of many newbie self-checkers today who seem to constantly need babysitting from the one grocer employee who is frantically jumping from register to register.  Seriously, how hard is it to just push the picture of the vegetables?

ANYWAY.  I digress again.  So, with a large discontented sigh, I bypass the needy-people lines, and shoot for a friendly looking face at a manned cash register.  Girl. I see a girl! - line full.  Full.  Full.  Empty.  Empty.  Empty.  Dammit, can't they employ more checkers?  I come upon a young good-looking boy-checker.  damn. damn. damn.  It's the end of my workday.  The lip-gloss is gone and the bags under the eyes are rearing their ugly heads today.   

<fluff the hair, deep breath and...> As I begin to unload my lettuce, fat-free milk, granola, fat-free yogurt, crackers and candy bars (bite me), I notice another good looking young boy beginning to pack my items on the far end of the checkout.  GREAT.  And the typical conversation begins...

"How are you, today?"  Asks cute boy-checker.

"I'm tired,"  I reply with a smile, "how are you?" 

The cute checker-boy chuckles (flirting with me, obviously) and says, "I can relate." 

I said, "You resemble my remark?"  (I'm so clever with the young hotties.)

He chuckes a bit more and says, "Yes.  I went to a party last night.  A good friend of mine is being deployed again." 

...And the brief conversation takes a more serious turn...

I asked the checker where his friend was going.  He said Iraq.    Before I could get my words of heartfelt blessings and wishes of safety and good health to his friend in the military, a voice from my right decides to voice a very brave (or very stupid), but misguided opinion.  Yes, it was... bagger-boy. 

"Well, I don't support the military," bagger-boy says.

"Excuse me?"  I was generally confused over that statement.  "I'm probably opening a can of worms, but whyever not?"

Before he could answer my question, the cute checker-boy turns to bagger-boy and says, "My father was in the army for 26 years."

Ignoring cute checker-boy, bagger-boy proceeds to tell us both that he never feels that there is ever any need for war. 

I asked him what that had to do with supporting the military. 

"The only purpose of the military is to fight in wars.  We should mind our own business.  There is never a reason to fight a war."  Bagger-boy is literally starting to get agitated and wants to argue his point. 

The line behind me is building and I really dislike being the center of attention.  I'm tired and not ready for ignorant and angry people.

"Miles (I read off his name-tag), I ask you, do you support your local police department?"

Silence.

"Miles," I say again, really tired and not ready for hostility, "first of all, you should really relax.  You are getting all worked up and I still need to pay for my groceries."  And the small smile I was shooting for emerges from bagger-boy.  "It's been a long day and I'm tired.  So, I apologize if I'm not clear enough in my next statements.  I ask you again, do you support your local police department?"

He blusters, "of course!"

I said, "There is no, 'of course' about it.  I don't understand how you can support the police department.  Isn't vandalism bad?  Isn't theft, domestic violence, and murder bad?"

A blank stare.

"You still don't understand, do you?  Your statement is simply incorrect.  It's the war you don't support.  You wouldn't say, 'I don't support police officers because I don't see any reason why we should ever have domestic violence.'  My husband is in the United States Coast Guard and do you know what he does?  He sits in a tower, on a base outside Detroit, and calls in a rescue team when a boat overturns on the lake.  Do you know what his friends do?  They drive a boat and chase the drug smuggler that is trying to bring heroin to my children and your friends.  So, please give it some thought, Miles.  And thank you for bagging my groceries.  I'll conveniently forget to tell my husband and my husband's Army buddy that we had this conversation.  They are too busy fighting for your right to have your own opinion, let alone voice it."  I turn to cute checker-boy, who had a beatiful smile on his face and say, "Miles is certainly entitled to his opinion, just as I am entitled to mine. I support your friend, his profession, and all that he stands for.  Please tell him to keep his head down.  Have a good evening, gentlemen."

When you don't have a computer to sit down to that has an edit button and an instant thesaurus, you really aren't able to speak your best.  But I thought I responded pretty well on 6 hours of sleep, 4 cups of caffiene, and 8 long work hours in a cramped office.

With a smile plastered to my face, I unload my purchases in the back of my old SUV and prepare for the two little children that I know will be ready to jump all over me as I walk in my front door.  They not only miss me this day, they miss their daddy who stands duty this night. 

God bless my husband and God bless the military.