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There is no question that military service at the front is a dangerous business, and things happen that aren’t always explainable. I find it ironically that the Ft. Hood tragedy happened in the same town that decades ago had the horrible massacre at Luby’s, in a time before Texans freely carried handguns. I remember vividly the argument that had people been packing, someone might have stopped or reduced the carnage during that tragedy in a Texas cafeteria. Now we have this recent horrific event that defies us to make sense of the why, the how. Of all the places you’d think someone on a rampage would have little success, it would be on a military installation. Yet, amidst all that training and weaponry, no one was armed initially. One wonders if firearms as de rigueur will be the norm on bases in the future. I’m not pro-gun by any means, just sense the irony at work.

Bob Greene’s CNN column lays out the challenges brought on by the Fog of War, the likely progression of the days following, and the intense interest in learning who the slain were, their comrades, and a renewed appreciate of what these young men and women go through. But why, oh why, does it take the senseless loss of life to awaken the American psyche like this? Why are we systemically deaf to what we’re doing to our young (and not so young) citizens? How many Americans really understand the damage that’s going on by repeatedly sending our patriots back to the insanity with little regard (or a sense of intentional ignorance) to the mental damage?

Wars are sadly a fixture of our history, yet modern warfare seems to be pushing our mental capacities to cope far beyond what’s humanly possible to handle. Or is it just that such sensationalized media reporting make it seem unusually so? I believe many a Vietnam vet would argue that the mental damage from that senseless engagement is no different than the post-trauma stress syndrome that’s getting more and more publicity.

In conversations with my father about his wartime and military experiences before he passed on, he believed back then his generation served with a purpose, that everyone believed in the cause behind the war. Fast forward to 2009 and it seems not many of us consider the why of what we’re doing over in the Middle East as reason alone to go blindly into the Fog of War.

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This year will be my fourth voyage into the world of daily word counts, banning contractions, and breaking all the rules for crisp, succinct writing. For those unbapitized, NaNoWriMo is short-speak for National Novel Writing Month, and annual event held since 1999. My first dipping came in 2004, where I’m proud to report I cleared the bar with 51,700 words that will never-see-the-light-of-a-publishers-pressroom, but hey, a goal met is a goal celebrated. If you’re feeling voyeuristic and want a glimpse of the madness such an endeavor breeds, read my celebration post. And if that didn’t bring you to your senses and you still want to have a go, I wrote about my takeaways a week later after my fried brain cells were replenished.

I tried again in 2005, thinking I’d start with something more structured than the 18-word sentence I launched with the previous year (yes, one can create an entire plot in those few words…at least, if your target audience is the NaNo). Spending a week prepping a five-page outline, multiple character sketches, the usual stuff, I thought I’d really take NaNo seriously…and promptly bailed out after about 10 days. Too much structure for NaNo? Perhaps.

2006 brought a third attempt, this time a plot paragraph (yes, as in MULTIPLE sentences) of a book idea, but the fates intervened via the passing of my father that November. Few things can deter a determined writer during NaNo, but that excuse certainly qualifies.

So now, a couple years removed from my three-year NaNo servitude, I’m ready again. Armed with a NEW idea, one not too deeply prepared, but one with serious intent, I’ll charge up the MacBook batteries, load up the iPod with tons of Hearts of Space recordings, and head off to the dozen or so coffee shops I’ve targeted to get me through the month. Nothing brings a smile to writer’s lips, hope in their heart, and that unbridled passion that writing with a purpose brings. Won’t you join in? It’s free, fun, and safe (don’t worry about the months of therapy that’s bound to follow…think of that as research for future NaNos).

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But, of course, I’m talkin’ about ORGANICS! (And where was your mind, dear reader?)

In a world of plastic and pharmaceuticals, preservatives and pesticides, I am progressively going organic. Fortunately, organics are fashionable, therefore local markets carry a lot more than they used to stock. I’m old enough to have gone to college when and where the mighty Whole Foods Market had their meager beginnings. Back then it was mostly hirsute hippies and willing wannabes hanging out in the original Whole Foods Market, a modest bare-concrete-floor, rough-made-wooden-shelvies, foreshadow of what was to come. Organic wasn’t a buzzword back then, but the practice of nurturing whole Earth and eating clean was well underway.

Without going into the politics of organics and the open-ended argument that big-farm organic isn’t as healthy as localvore organics, I’m just happy there is more variety and reasonable prices than ever before. With terrific tools like this iPhone app and the uber cool companion wallet card), I can channel my inner hippie and decide when it’s all about the O and when it’s not.

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