By JEFFERSON WEAVER
Staff writer

It wouldn’t do for me to meet Sen. Dick Durbin.

I sincerely doubt I’ll ever meet the gentleman from Illinois, and that’s probably a good thing for both of us. For my sake, I’m not sure I could control my temper. For his sake, he doesn’t have a particularly handsome nose, and I doubt it would be prettier if it were punched.

I prefer to keep the study of personal violence in a purely philosophical, academic and historical perspective.
Punching someone would be rude, as satisfying as it might be, and I don’t like rude behavior anymore than I like punching people’s noses.

But some folks make it hard to feel that way.

Whilst I would normally ignore Durbin and his ilk, his comments a while back got under my skin. He said the actions of American servicemen in Iraq were comparable to those of the military in Nazi Germany, or Stalin’s Russia. Regardless of the context, he compared our troops to Nazis.

He’s not the first to say such things – each of the Democratic candidates for president has made at least one similar statement. Durbin’s not even running for president. He is just part of the crowd who have reached such a fervor in the purely personal hatred – yes, hatred – of President George Bush that they no longer think or even care about what they’re saying.

I’ve never made any bones about my support for the president, and I won’t. People who supported Al Gore and John Kerry began hating Bush because he had the audacity to win not one, but two elections, despite thousands of polls, several lawsuits, hundreds of editorials, and dozens of slanted news broadcasts that said he wouldn’t. Those pesky voters got in the way.

The liberals have attacked Bush, Republicans, pro-life conservatives, big business, Southerners, Americans on both sides of the immigration issue, Bible-believing Christians, heterosexuals, gunowners, and for all I know, grandmas who grow gardenias.

I have grown used to such, since I am a meat-eating, gun-owning, heterosexual, pro-life, Southerner, who is not ashamed to be a Bible-believing Christian. I also love grandmothers, despise illegal aliens, and have never received a paycheck from a company owned by a poor person. I am ambivalent about gardenias.

I’m more of a Whig than a Republican, but there’s still an “R” by my voter registration. Hence, I’m used to being insulted. But when the politicians start picking on our soldiers, I get riled.

I expect people to be against the war – some folks wouldn’t fight if their own lives were at stake, others make some good points – but to use one’s antipathy with the war and the president as an excuse to insult our military gets on the bad side I reserve for people who abuse children, abandon animals, and disrespect old people.

Were I to meet Sen. Durbin, and not punch him, I’d like to tell him about a man named John.

John loves to fish, and he can cook just about anything on a grill. He drinks too much beer once in a while. He loves his parents, his wife, and his sisters. He cried when his grandparents died.

John served honorably in the Navy, and received a medical discharge. But he felt he still needed to serve his country, and he fought like the devil to get back into the service. John got married a few weeks ago, and he will ship out to Iraq next month.

John didn’t have to sign up for more military service. He had a job, a home and a family-to-be. But he volunteered.
John has a very large family. For 90 years, his family has served, sometimes with brothers, cousins, fathers and uncles in the line of fire at the same time. His father was the first one for several generations who served but didn’t see battle. John was in training when Hurricane Katrina hit his hometown, and despite offers from his superiors, he refused to go home to help. He balanced duty and worry, and opted for duty.

John signed up with the Army because he knows there are people out there who hate America and Americans, just as there are politicians who hate President Bush for breathing.

John learned, as we all did on Sept. 11, 2001, that there are people out there who want to eradicate everything America stands for. He understands that to protect America from evil people, we have to keep evil people from coming to America, and the way to do that is not to give them a big hug or economic incentives. He knows the way to protect his country and her people is to defeat those enemies, destroy the governments and countries who support them, and replace them with new governments that respect freedom, thus teaching other terror nations that we will not tolerate threats to freedom.

John is going overseas to protect his own right to watch TV, grill, fish and travel with his wife. He is going overseas so he can go back to school when he gets out of the military, and study what he wants. He is going overseas so his aunts and uncles can worship as they so desire. He is going overseas so his family and friends can gather for the huge cookouts which make the family famous, and not worry about someone forbidding their peaceable assembly.

He’s also going overseas so he can say and think what he wants, and so people like his hairy old Uncle Jefferson can write for a newspaper and even Sen. Dick Durbin can express an opinion, no matter how offensive that opinion may be.
My nephew John is going to war to defend Sen. Durbin’s right to call soldiers ugly names. Yes, I’m worried about John, but I’m proud of him, too.

I’m just disappointed in some of the people he’s defending.

We have the right to share opposing opinions; you can hate President Bush til you’re hated out, and spout as much vitriol and bile as is necessary to feel better about yourself. It won’t bother me anymore, and I doubt it bothers Bush.
But with all due respect, Sen. Durbin, I’d appreciate it if you’d leave my nephew alone. He’s busy getting ready to defend your right to express a dissenting opinion.

I hope, sir, we never meet. My father, John’s grandfather, taught me to be on my best behavior when meeting elected officials. The Old Man taught me that we all have the right to express an opinion, as disagreeable as it might be.
He also taught me, sir, that some expressions are best answered not with an erudite argument, but a punch in the nose.