Iwo Jima Mess

NEWINGTON, Conn. - I'm here at the National Iwo Jima Memorial Monument just outside of Hartford wondering why well-meaning people sponsor advertisements at places of mourning.

Here you can see an impressive replica of the famous shot of American soldiers raising the flag on a small Pacific islet. Right next to the towering rock carving is a notice that several local car dealerships help make this monument possible.

I understand that government of a small Connecticut town might not have the money to import and carve a monument of this size, but they shouldn't resort to cheap sponsorship.

The main parts of the monument, the statue and a eternal flame, are dedicated to all soldiers that fought at Iwo Jima. But other parts of the monument imply that its more dedicated to certain soldiers. Families purchased small bricks, so certain soldiers have their names individually listed on the ground, while others don't. The chaplains get a personalized plaque enumerating soldiers served, injured and awarded the Bronze Star. Other units do not.

Don't expect a quiet visit. The entire monument is right on the side of a four lane divided highway, The Iwo Jima Expressway.

In front of the monument is a large slab of black granite that says, "Welcome to the Iwo Jima National Monument." On the back, in equally large letters, the name of the person who donated the piece of stone. It serves as an exit sign to the memorial.

Responsible for this mess is the Iwo Jima Survivors Association, Inc., a local group that raised the money for the monument. While I'm sure their intentions were good, I don't appreciate the results.

The best monuments tend to be the simplest ones, where a tragedy, victory, or person is reduced to one or two powerful messages.

That's why I'm bewildered by the continuing controversy over the Sept. 11 memorial in New York City. Some victims' families are pressing for more information be included on the memorial, including ages and division of law enforcement. One group is airing an ad on New York television that declares the current proposal "a cold, random list of names."

I hope New York Mayor Michael Bloomberg aren't persuaded by these arguments, as I someday would like to see a simple, powerful monument to that awful day. Adding more details about individual people categorizes them, making one life seem more valuable than another. The "cold, random list of names" shows that each loss is equally terrible.

Maybe the mayor should use some of his personal wealth to run a response ad, showing images of this Iwo Jima monument as a frank reminder of what can happen when the monument planning process runs amok.

Neo-Tanked

WASHINGTON, D.C - Inside the Party Room at Crystal Towers II were nearly 100 of America's brightest young political minds. In their simple black dresses and $50 silk ties, they seemed ready to march the five miles across the Potomac and storm Capital Hill, or at least make sure they drank the price of their tickets from the open bar.

I'd scored an invitation to this thanks to a friend who deferred his acceptance from one of the best political science schools in the country for two years to wallow in one of Washington's think tanks. He's basically a liberal (although his Facebook profile now lists his political views as "other") but is working for the American Enterprise Institute. Wikipedia describes the organization as, "a conservative think tank founded in 1943 whose stated mission is to support the foundations of freedom - limited government, private enterprise, vital cultural and political institutions, and a strong foreign policy and national defense... it has emerged as one of the leading architects of the Bush administration's public policy. More than two dozen AEI alumni have served either in a Bush administration policy post or on one of the government's many panels and commissions." Not exactly my usual party mates.

I wanted to go, if only to experience the way these young conservative people behave in leisure. It was like being invited to a rare tribal ritual or a Tibetan sky burial, fascinating because you've never seen anything like it before. But I was only going to be in Washington two days, and devoting one night to an event I only wanted to ironically attend didn't seem wise. I took a pass on buying an advance ticket.

Nine o'clock on party night, several friends and I were downstairs at the Towers, drinking wine and preparing for a fancy birthday dinner. Just before leaving, we decided to head up to the Party Room, unannounced, and check out the party. We took the elevator tot he top floor, walked down a long twisty hallway. In front of us were a bunch of smartly dressed people in front of a wonderful view of downtown Washington. This looked like any other Washington party I've seen on C-SPAN, only without the prevalence of bald spots.

The party guests resembled the crashers, although they had better haircuts and worse dance moves, but not enough to make me forget their love of free trade, FOX News and The New Republic. I walked inside, shook the hand of my friend, stole a mini-cheesecake and went back to my liberal life.