Whatever

If I’m to be held accountable for everything I did or didn’t do during the Vietnam war, then, basically, I’m fucked. First, I’d have to explain why I was such a big fan of the “progressive rock” band Uriah Heep. Second, I’d need to justify why I purposely spilled orange drink on Alexandra Scoulas during the end-of-year party for our 6th grade art class. And third, I’d need to reconcile my solid opposition to the war with my simultaneous and seemingly contradictory desire to acquire as many GI Joe dolls as I could.

Point being: what I did or didn’t do thirty-some years ago is just that—it’s what I did or didn’t do some thirty years ago. And while this may offer insight into my current character, it no more tells the complete story of who I now am than does the fact that I wore paisley bell-bottoms every day in 1968 predict my current preference for wool straight-legs.

I’m sure George W. Bush was a callow and spoiled scion of the upper classes who did everything he could to do as little as possible in fulfilling his commitment to service in the National Guard. And no doubt John Kerry was a calculating self-promoter who oversold his achievements on the battlefield in order to win support for his future political and social ambitions.

But you know what? So what! All that happened almost four decades ago and as far as I’m concerned, the statute of limitations on youthful indiscretions is long since passed.

If people want to find something upon which to oppose Kerry, they needn’t travel back in time to the 1970s; it was just a couple of years ago, for instance, that he voted to give Bush the authority to attack Iraq.

And if people want to find something upon which to oppose Bush, all they have to do is head back a few seconds to the last time he said or did anything.