Peace Potluck

To Acme in the morning for green leaf lettuce, mushrooms, and "cranraisins," to which I added tomatoes, onions, and feta for the salad I took to the Potluck for Peace I attended yesterday. 
It was in Egg Harbor at the home of Helene Ryder, sister of the "Peace Pilgrim."  Helene herself is 97, but is alert and spry, although I understand she no longer rides her bike down the White Horse Pike.
Her house is very modest and, when I arrived, people were already chatting inside and out.  I met some new people and particularly enjoyed talking to Linda G., who is an artist and lives in Port Republic, a tiny town a few miles from Smithville.  We exchanged names and e-mail addresses and I hope to see more of her. 
Also met Rose S. who lives in Galloway and, incredibly enough, remembers my late sister and brother-in-law when he was mayor.  This must have been 35 or 40 years ago.  I told both Linda and Rose about the P & P show next Saturday and they may actually come.
I wore my "Free Bradley Manning" tee-shirt and was shocked when several people asked about it--and didn't know who Bradley Manning is.  I explained what Brad had done, including releasing the infamous video, and that he was locked up and on trial, Incredibly, one woman said well, he's a traitor, isn't he?  Now, come on, really.  This is a peace group? 
I'm afraid it's the old-fashioned type peace group.  They seem to have romantic notions of the way to peace, elevating an elderly woman who died 30 years ago, to secular sainthood.  The idea of extending the example of Mildred Ryder by demonstrating, handing out leaflets, writing to newspapers, or whatever, clearly has never occurred to most of them.  Or, if it has, it was rejected.
The lunch was good and some of the talk better.  It was followed by a sing-along, but I left before that.  (I'm willing to bet Coom-By-Ya was included; shades of the sixties!)   
I was gratified that just before I left, a woman with an Irish accent excitedly told me her husband had a shirt just like mine, and he had been at the Manning demonstration last week.  Well, finally!  We exchanged hugs and e-mail addresses and I went on my way. 
Another ominous note about yesterday: The majority of the roughly thirty attendees were elderly women.  There were three men and maybe the same number of people who may have been in their twenties.  This preponderance of older people (but of both genders) also prevailed at the Ft. Meade demonstration last week.  Where are all the student groups and others of the upcoming generation?  Why don't you see--and hear--more of them in the pro-peace brigade?  Are they so thoroughly conditioned and brain-washed by the collusion of government/corporations/media that they're actually unaware of the scourge of U.S. aggression?  Or they know, but don't care.
If so, I think there's no hope for the country or the world.  And maybe it's just as well.  A new system of some kind will have to be devised, but it won't necessarily be benign.  And I won't be alive to see it.