Updated

You know how I think you can take the measure of a man, or woman? How much they whine or don't whine.

Lately I've had the pleasure of interviewing quite a few of our bravest just coming back from Iraq. To a man, and woman, they're in pretty rough shape. One guy lost his legs. Another his sight. Still another, on this show Wednesday night, almost blown to smithereens: both arms — gone. He's suing Michael Moore. He's a separate story.

But to my point, the same story: He doesn't whine. None of them do.

Missing limbs, missing the very comforts and controls we take for granted, not a one of them complains.

They say they're proud to have served and say they'd do it again, if they could. But they can't.

So they brag about how lucky they are.

And I'm looking at them, some with disfigured faces and missing limbs, and I'm saying... lucky?

So I think of them when I whine about a hot, muggy day.

I think of them when I whine about a tough day at the office.

I think of them when I whine about traffic not moving.

I think of them when I all too often think of myself.

I figure, if they can smile and laugh after all they've been through, who am I to whine about anything?

Who are we to even try?

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