The Charlie Bravo Story

Physician, heel thyself

The ancient Chinese had a curse, “may you live in interesting times”. It’s days like these that make me want to retreat into a cocoon of denial, not just away from the evil events, but more importantly, from the evil surmising that inevitably seems to accompany them.

But then I realize that I have a mission to fulfil, and retreating is not an option. My mission? Nothing grandiose, just to show that there is an alternative to the constant barrage of bad news.

Dad once heard a theory that, from the beginning of time, humans were conditioned as a species to only hear as much bad news as they could positively affect; first as nomadic tribes, then as towns, cities, but that was pretty much it. Now we’re hit with wave after wave of depressing news from around the globe, each cycle pounding the rock of our resolve into shifting sand; before we can recover from one, we’re hit with the next, until we say “why bother? If I can’t fix it all, why fix anything? Why not relax and let the riptide of depression take us where it may?”

Suicide is one of the leading causes of death in the United States, and I would argue that the depression and stress that precedes it is also a contributing factor in a good portion of the others above it. Heart attacks, strokes, Althziemers, etc, all exacerbated by stress; why do we have such stress, living as we do in the lap of luxury at this time in history, comparatively speaking?

We feel that we, and consequently our actions, don’t matter.

Dad just finished watching a series on the history of Auschwitz, the Nazi death camp where literally millions of Jews, gypsies, Poles and others were put to death in the crematorias. As opposed to being depressing, what was so impressive and uplifting is that, with death and immeasurable suffering surrounding them daily, the survivors had one thing that sustained them:

They never lost hope.

I would never compare what I experienced during the time in my crate to the suffering experienced in the death camps, but I can relate to the constant feeling of hope; however faint it may have been at certain times, it was always there. If procrastination is ever a good thing, it’s when you put off giving up, if for nothing else but for another minute. That minute can then grow into an hour, into another day, and even into a new lifetime.

So what is your hope? Mine is the same as yours, to know I’ve made a difference. That, and that someday dad and I take the Charkstream across the country. Why? Not real sure, unless it’s to show that there is a better way, that there is life after the crate. How and when? Haven’t the slightest clue, but we can hope, and you can too. But the quickest way to silence that urgent inner voice is to let it be drowned out with the noise of negativism; CNN, CBS, FOX, ABC, PMS, they’re not here to help you, they’re here to get rich at your expense by multiplying division.

Well, this girl ain’t buying, and I’m not letting dad even window shop; our time together is fleeting enough as it is, no time to waste it on someone else telling us we should or should not be afraid of.

See you on the road;

Charlie out.

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