Monday, December 13, 2010


I grew up in the era when high school boys got their draft numbers upon their 18th birthdays and were expected to go into the service to fight in Vietnam shortly after graduation. That is, if they didn't get college deferments, become conscientious objectors or take off for Canada (we lived in Detroit at that time, right across the river from Canada so it was a viable choice). Of course, that war or whatever you call it now is long over. I have no biases against the Vietnamese people; I just don't have any desire to go there.

Our daughter and son-in-law, Holly and Mike,who were here for Christmas and Thanksgiving a couple weeks ago, are now in Vietnam. At her level with DreamWorks, she's on hiatus after finishing MegaMind and they get an extended vacation after the completion of a movie. She moves on to Madagascar III when she gets back to work in mid-January.

They had wanted to go to Argentina but discovered that the timing wasn't conducive for them to have sufficient time to see the country as they wanted to. They need five or six weeks and with the Christmas holidays in the middle, it just didn't work. So they went to Vietnam on the recommendation of someone Holly works with.

Good for them -- I really do applaud their traveling inquisitiveness. It's just I can't get over the weird feelings of knowing they're in Vietnam a country America fought with for so long and with so much bloodshed. They're also taking a side trip to Cambodia to see Angkor Wat, a temple from the early 12th Century honoring the Hindu god Vishnu.

I'm just going to be on motherly pins and needles until I know they're back in this country. That's all.

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