September 11, 2007--The Wimpiest Generation

Unlike in 2001, which began as a glorious late summer day in New York City and Washington and Pennsylvania, today it is gloomy. Which fits my mood. My gloom is not primarily from the sadness that this anniversary evokes or the consequences of the tragic loss of innocent lives, but more now for what has become of my America. What happened to the America of the Greatest Generation, the one that took a body blow at Pearl Harbor and then fully mobilized itself out of grief and anger? Though few sought to sacrifice their bodies or way of life, when called upon, millions enlisted or were drafted into the service while on the homefront, as it was called at the time, Rosie went off to rivet battleships and the rest of us gave up sugar and butter and meat. We also saw our taxes raised, paid them willingly, tightened our belts, and figured out how to make do with less. I heard these stories growing up and for conformation in recent years looked at the proliferation of books about this generation. They were for the most part remarkable. Six years ago we suffered another attack. More than 3,000 Americans were killed and, whatever our politics, we are all in one way or another involved in another war. Some on the Right see it to be World War IV—the Clash of Civilizations--with WW III having been the Cold War. Others contend a police rather than a military response would have been more appropriate and effective. But, nonetheless, here we are. So what have we, this generation, been up to? Nothing much, in my view, of which to be proud. Less than a mile from where I am there is still a gaping hole in the ground with, at last after six years, the first glimmers of rebuilding. Greed and politics and the concern for the families of the dead have paralyzed us. The owner of the site held out for as long as he could so he could extract the last billion from the insurance companies; craven politicians milked every opportunity to posture and fulminate in front of the pit and TV cameras; and, hate me for saying this, the most publicly active surviving family members made a career out of prolonging their grief. The rest of us passively watched while other families’ children went off to fight, to be maimed, and to die. We saw our taxes cut and our greatest pain was experienced at the gas pump. Rather than being called to any form of shared responsibility we ran after sub-prime mortgages and used the money to go on a frenzied shopping spree. And when it finally came time to confront our leaders about the cataclysm they brought down upon us and the world, the best we could muster was to elect more Democrats to Congress who are at this very moment making a mockery of themselves as they wimp out when confronting the four stars on Big Bad General Petraeus’ uniform. The most muscle flexed yesterday during the hearing was to toss out of the committee room a few middle-aged women carrying antiwar signs who, in inchoate protest, had wrapped themselves in pink shower curtains. At the end of the day, our exhausted Representatives raced off to talk tough on Hardball and Countdown while Chris Matthews and Keith Olbermann couldn’t wait to get them out of the studio so they could turn their attention back to poor Senator Larry Craig and Britney Spears.