When I was younger I wanted to be in the military. To be more precise, I wanted to be a spy-- a common dream, the empyrean of many adolescent boys. The reasoning behind this was purely concerned with excitement and the danger portrayed in movies. James Bond, Ethan Hunt, Johnny Quest... even Indiana Jones. They had a life of intrigue, practicality, and wore fine suits. I liked suits. Every chance I had to wear a suit was certainly taken with the same delicacy as the preparation of an infant for bed. I just didn't know it at the time. I assumed that was what they did, so I did it.
But the harsh realities of this life came down on me one day in 7th grade. The military recruiter came to our school, showing us videos of valor and strength and unity and one-isms, while hinting at the "tee-riff" college benefits. My dream to become James Bond had slowly turned to becoming the next James Patterson by 7th grade, but this singular visit (later coupled with a peer's father, an FBI Agent, speaking at Career Day) had roused that searing pang of patriotism and sex within my 13-year old heart. The music is still fraught with blasting trumpets and other brass instrumentation, just as it was then. After the presentation was over, I went to this man and asked him a simple question. "I am interested in the military, but I have Diabetes Mellitus, Type 1. Will that be a problem...sir?" His expression had begun with a wide-brimmed smile, expanding clean across his dirty mustache, but turned into something a little more pensive after my question. He stood and stroked a few crumbs from the mustache, though not on purpose, and looked back to me. "Maybe by the time you're old enough to join, they'll have figured that out."
A few nights ago, I was quite elevated. Elevated in clouds, on couches, feet cleanly, effortlessly elevated. I was laughing at nothing in particular when that music came on the TV. Trumpets were blaring, just like I had remembered, and I felt that feeling again. This particular Army commercial showed all the possible ranks for those in the Army, starting with PFC up to 4-star General. I watched as they all flashed across the screen, watched as the actors (maybe they really are Marines or soldiers) ran and jumped and stood, looking regal and important. I wanted to feel important like that. I quickly looked to the clock. 12:02 am. Damn, too late to go to the Recruiter's Office. Oh wait, it's been too late for 13 years. And suddenly, I wondered how many other people had seen that commercial and been so moved to change their lives and join the military. The effectiveness of this advertising is incredible, especially if someone who CAN'T be in the military desperately wanted to run and pick up a gun to fight for democracy across the globe. I can imagine that those with lesser faculties might be moved to do the same. Though, I was also moved by the Taco Bell commercial that came on directly after, and that one actually got me in the door.