I am a quintessential American, in that I am a firm believer in its core ideals that “all men are created equal.” My forebears left a land of narrowly defined status and class in order to make something of themselves in a new land. The history of America is my history, 15 generations and counting. Because of these concepts of equality, I have raised myself to be a strict egalitarian. This means that I give no special consideration to the high or low, rich or poor. The only way to earn anything higher than this is if we are somehow related or if I have chosen to befriend you. Even then, I usually will end up giving short shrift. In my entire life, I almost never considered myself better than someone or lower than them. While there are none lower than me, I would like to share my feelings about those who inhabit that place above.

Ten years ago, a few men, deluded about the path to heaven outlined even in their own religion, chose to attack innocent civilians on a beautiful Tuesday morning in September. These few men purposely attacked the unarmed for an ideological and political point. Ten years on, they are dead, their successors are dead, and the man who led them and sent them is dead as well. These are not the men greater than me.

Those who are greater than me are the men and women who have sacrificed their lives, their bodies, and their time to defend the people of this nation and other nations. This includes those like Rick Rescorla and the New York firefighters, who climbed the towers to bring down more and more to safety, before perishing. Those on Flight 93 that fought back and crashed rather than be a weapon for the enemy. The thousands upon thousands of men and women, who in the last ten years, have repeatedly answered the call issued by our government. It also includes our brave foreign allies.

In seeing these men, I understand that what they did and still do has a common strand connected from now to the beginning of our nation. The willingness to save, defend and protect was the same then as it is today. So, those in our past who answered the call are greater than me as well. My great-uncles in WWII, my father in Vietnam and my brother in Operation Desert Storm. All are greater than me.

You may ask, “Why? Why are they greater than you?” The answer is because they have done what I will not or can not do. Today and all other days, I remember them. When the queue for heaven starts to form, I will let them cut in line before me. All others will have to wait.

Every time I move, I rethink my position on electronic books and readers. I have a lot of books and my obsession with them demands that I buy more. The weight, however, is tough to deal with. But as I look upon them and remember the joy and satisfaction that I feel, I do not know that I can switch to something so modern. Nothing can replace the appearance, heft, and texture of a good tome.

Also, my paranoia usually kicks in as well. Electronic information can be edited while a book published usually stays the same forever. This will always be the case, barring the growth of some villainous institution such as the “Ministry of Truth.” Knowing that such a thing is never outside the realm of possibility, I plan to keep my books close and my guns perhaps even closer.

Why this slavish devotion to paper and print, you ask? To me, books represent the continuing record of the human experiment. Before recorded history, man pasted his experience from one to another through the spoken word. Tales were told and memorized. Unfortunately, they were often changed or embellished. When I pick up a book, I can access the ideas and concepts of a writer 2,000 years ago or last week. It is the growth of knowledge and thought that I love, not only the physical form itself.

Still, the light weight of a Kindle or some other reader appeals.