Centuries ago, when I was just a private, it was a sign of
favor and friendship to be on a first name basis with someone. The twenty-somethings
of today have no idea what I’m talking about. There are two reasons for their
ignorance. The first is that they call everyone by their first name as if it
were their God given right.
The second reason is identities have changed. People are no
longer Fred, Barney, Wilma, and Betty. They are tagged with markers of race,
gender, religion, national origin, or sexual preference.
People are first Afro-American, Woman, Muslim, or an
alphabet prefix. We are these things first…before we are people, before we are
American, before we are Jack.
Our new first names convey a worth and expertise in all
things human conferred by the randomness of birth or the verbal sewing of a
label to our clothes.
I saw the President on the news the other night. He asked
the crowd if they wanted a woman to be nominated as a Supreme Court Justice to cheers.
When asked if they wanted a man…boos. I don’t really care one way or the other,
but I prefer the first name of Sharp Legal Mind to Woman, Man, or any other
moniker.
I know, insanity, right? Wanting a qualified person over a
label. What was I thinking?
I don’t know. I just figure if the nominee knows the
Constitution, supports and defends it as the oath requires, and loves justice,
it doesn’t matter what they look like. Moreover, We the People should not
approach such a decision based on race, gender, or any of the other new first
names we love.
My first name is still Colonel, my last name still, Sir.
At Ease.
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