The Hottest Ticket in Town

Kathmandu - photo by JoAnn Sturman

Scott Sturman

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Sturman:

Barrack and I would like to invite you to my 50th birthday celebration.  As billed, it’s the “hottest ticket in town.”  It gives us a chance to invite genuine minorities like you and your wife, who have worked since you were eighteen to pay for our annual Hawaiian vacation.  It's an extravaganza common folk rarely experience.
 
Regrets only,            
Michelle

The invitation could not have come at a worse time.  That very night, while in a nationalistic mood, I watch the first episode of Steven Spielberg’s “The Pacific,” based on E.B. Sledge’s book “With the Old Breed,” which describes the horrific combat at Peleliu and Okinawa.  Having watched and enjoyed its companion series “Band of Brothers” years ago, it’s unclear why I waited so long, particularly since my father fought as a U.S. Army infantryman in Okinawa.

It’s not everyday one receives an invitation to hobnob with the rich and famous, but having a conscience and a long memory it was impossible to forget the First Lady’s proclamation that she was ashamed of America.  Where has she traveled and what history books has she read to come to such an inane conclusion?  Name one other country on any part of the planet in any time throughout history that has sacrificed as much as America.  It’s not a long list.   

That evening I told my wife about the spoof I had written for Flies In Your Eyes, and our hypothetical refusal to attend Washington’s gala event.

“Wait a minute,” she interjected.  “I’d like to go.  I already have the perfect dress for the occasion.”

“Honey, it’s just a joke.  It’s a story about principles.”

“I don’t like her politics either, but you have to right to speak for me.  If you won’t go, then I’ll ask my sister.”

“But....,” I stammered, feeling once again like Dagwood Bumstead.

Mr. and Mrs. Sturman Ponder an Invitation