As my brain melts and becomes one with reality, the affair of this journey of life becomes familiar with you and me.
Friday, December 30, 2005
I am not 21 anymore
Thursday, December 22, 2005
T minus 222: Day 143
On January 4th, I will be going to Camp Hanson for that training I mentioned in an earlier post. The "academy" will last for 7 weeks. This hopefully will be my ticket to advancement. If not I may be joining the ranks of the civilian world sooner rather than later.
Saturday, December 17, 2005
Marbles
Babs Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a
small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily
apprizing a basket of freshly picked green peas.
I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh
green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the
peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me.
"Hello Barry, how are you today?"
"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas . sure look good."
"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"
"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."
"Good. Anything I can help you with?"
"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."
"Would you like to take some home?"
"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."
"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"
"All I got's my prize marble here."
"Is that right? Let me see it."
"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."
"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go
for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"
"Not zackley . but almost."
"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble."
"Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller."
Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me.
With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our
community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain
with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."
I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A
short time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering.
Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.
Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... all very professional looking.
They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.
Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.
Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.
"Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about.! They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size ... they came to pay their debt."
"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho."
With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.
Moral:
We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.
Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments
that takes our breath.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Marine Corps Ball 2005
You will all notice that some people are in this year's pictures as they were in last years. It should strike a funny bone if you pay attention.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Fantasy
This may be true today as it was once yesterday.
My hopes and dreams are a fantasy that are ill afford.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Ambitious
Or maybe, "they" still love me, it is the ambition that was missing. I personally do not believe that. I always thought I had a lot of ambition.
Maybe it was the lost "Goth".
Or the Latin.
Whatever the reason, I wish for love to be the factor which keeps us together whoever that may concern.
Saturday, December 03, 2005
Marine Service Journal
Sort of a paper based version of this blog. Granted, I do not tell you all everything, what fun would that be?
The book has some great illustrations and pictures. It has a place for a personal history, which can be quite boring. It has Unit Activities, which, anyone but myself and other Marines would understand. It has "Service Friends" which over the years I have had many. There are a few other nifty details as well, I would tell you all, but where's the mystery in that?
Now do not misunderstand me, I have filled out he book and have been filling out the book since I received it as a gift. I appreciated the gift, more because no one else thought of it for the last decade.
Dee Dee is a great friend and my heart goes out for her.
Semper Fi
Wednesday, November 23, 2005
T minus 250: Day 115
Yesterday, I ran my second half of the year PFT (Physical Fitness Test). Not fun. I didn't do nearly as well as I have in the past. I did my 100 crunches with 12 pull-ups (counted) and a 24 minute 18 second run time. The younger Marines thought that it was pretty good, I know better and should have done better. My "boss" thought it was not "bad" for a thirty year old. Well, let me tell you all first I am hurting today. I will probably be hurting tomorrow too. I still have not done the math but I think it is around a 223 or 222, something like that. It is about 20 points lower than my last one and about 35 points lower than the one before.
The monitors will be here in a couple of weeks. (The guys who tell everyone where they are going to be stationed.) I plan to figure out what my next steps will be. At the moment, an extension here is looking like the best option. We will see.
Saturday, November 19, 2005
Immigrants of History
Theodore Roosevelt 1907
Sunday, November 13, 2005
The ball tomorrow
Saturday, November 12, 2005
Image Archive
The photos are in alphabetical order, so if it looks like chaos, it really is not.
Every photo or document on my website will be displayed here.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
New Guestbook at Wyldth1ng(dot)com
Friday, October 28, 2005
The Last Week in Yuma
The whole part that really chaps my ass is that the person who turned in the individual that did the wrong should have taken care of the Marine instead of fucking him and everyone else. This statement would not have been foreign 5 to 10 years ago nor would it be when my father or anyone else's family was in the military. The situation did not harm anyone and the violation was not a major one. I am not saying to break the rules, the rules are there for a reason. All I am saying is this Marine just needed to be looked after for about twenty feet and all would have been fine.
What is the one thing that Marines do the other services do not do or do not take pride in?
Well, the answer is history if this truly is the "new" Marine Corps.
The good is part is a friend is visiting me for the last few days. I hope the best for that.
Sunday, October 23, 2005
T minus 281 : Day 84 : Rotation Time Minus 11
One of the good points of being here is I have an awesome renter. He is actually taking care of my house. (Saving me a dime or two.)
When I do return, I will be going to the ball "stag." If that is a surprise then you haven't been reading.
I did receive a few awesome presents from some really cool people. Definitely, this is year has been a banner one.
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Nothing Special
I do not have time to post anything of any real value.
I barely have enough time to type this message.
This thought process is a complete waste of time.
You have just wasted your time by reading this.
You and I can not feel any smarter or wiser by reading this.
In fact, you are probably wondering, why I would do this?
I do not know.
Monday, October 10, 2005
A Good Analogy to Share
The other day, my nine year old son wanted to know why we were at war...My husband looked at our son and then looked at me. My husband and I were in the Army during the Gulf War and we would be honored to serve and defend our Country again today. I knew that my husband would give him a good explanation. My husband thought for a few minutes and then told my son to go stand in our front living room window.
He said "Son, stand there and tell me what you see?"
"I see trees and cars and our neighbor's houses." he replied.
"OK, now I want you to pretend that our house and our yard is the United States of America and you are President Bush."
Our son giggled and said "OK."
"Now son, I want you to look out the window and pretend that every house and yard on this block is a different country" my husband said.
"OK Dad, I'm pretending."
"Now I want you to stand there and look out the window and pretend you see Saddam come out of his house with his wife, he has her by the hair and is hitting her. You see her bleeding and crying. He hits her in the face, he throws her on the ground, then he starts to kick her to death. Their children run out and are afraid to stop him, they are screaming and crying, they are watching this but do nothing because they are kids and they are afraid of their father. You see all of this, son... .what do you do?"
"Dad?"
"What do you do son?"
"I'd call the police, Dad."
"OK. Pretend that the police are the United Nations. They take your call. They listen to what you know and saw but they refuse to help. What do you do then son?"
"Dad.......... but the police are supposed to! help!" My son starts to whine.
"They don't want to son, because they say that it is not their place or your place to get involved and that you should stay out of it," my husband says.
"But Dad...he killed her!!" my son exclaims.
"I know he did...but the police tell you to stay out of it. Now I want you to look out that window and pretend you see our neighbor who you're pretending is Saddam turn around and do the same thing to his children."
"Daddy...he kills them?"
"Yes son, he does. What do you do?"
"Well, if the police don't want to help, I will go and ask my next door neighbor to help me stop him." our son says.
"Son, our next door neighbor sees what is happening and refuses to get involved as well. He refuses to open the door and help you stop him," my husband says.
"But Dad, I NEED help!!! I can't stop him by myself!!"
"WHAT DO YOU DO SON?"
Our son starts to cry.
"OK, no one wants to help you, the! man across the street saw you ask for help and saw that no one would help you stop him. He stands taller and puffs out his chest. Guess what he does next son?"
"What Daddy?"
"He walks across the street to the old ladies house and breaks down her door and drags her out, steals all her stuff and sets her house on fire and then...he kills her. He turns around and sees you standing in the window and laughs at you. WHAT DO YOU DO?"
"Daddy.."
"WHAT DO YOU DO?"
Our son is crying and he looks down and he whispers, "I'd close the blinds, Daddy."
My husband looks at our son with tears in his eyes and asks him.
"Why?"
"Because Daddy.....the police are sup posed to help people who needs them...and they won't help.... You always say that neighbors are supposed to HELP neighbors, but they won't help either...they won't help me stop him...I'm afraid....I can't do it by myself Daddy.....I can't look out my window and just watch him do all these ! terrible things and...and.....do nothing...so....I'm just going to close the blinds.... so I can't see what he's doing........and I'm going to pretend that it is not happening."
I start to cry. My husband looks at our nine year old son standing in the window, looking pitiful and ashamed at his answers to my husband's questions and he says...
"Son"
"Yes, Daddy."
"Open the blinds because that man.... he's at your front door... "WHAT DO YOU DO?"
My son looks at his father, anger and defiance in his eyes. He balls up his tiny fists and looks his father square in the eyes, without hesitation he says: "I DEFEND MY FAMILY DAD!! I'M NOT GONNA LET HIM HURT MOMMY OR MY S ISTER, DAD!!! I'M GONNA FIGHT HIM, DAD, I'M GONNA FIGHT HIM!!!!!"
I see a tear roll down my husband's cheek and he grabs our son to his chest and hugs him tight, and says... "It's too late to fight him, he's too strong and he's already at YOUR front door son.....you should have s! topped him BEFORE he killed his wife, and his children and the old lady across the way. You have to do what's right, even if you have to do it alone, before its too late." my husband whispers. THAT scenario I just gave you is WHY we are at war with Iraq. When good men stand by and let evil happen son, THAT is the greatest atrocities in the world won't affect him. "YOU MUST NEVER BE AFRAID TO DO WHAT IS RIGHT! EVEN IF YOU HAVE TO DO IT ALONE!" BE PROUD TO BE AN AMERICAN! BE PROUD OF OUR TROOPS!! SUPPORT THEM!!! SUPPORT AMERICA SO THAT IN THE FUTURE OUR CHILDREN WILL NEVER HAVE TO CLOSE THEIR BLINDS..."
(name withheld)
CMSgt 332 ELRS/Vehicle Management
Flight Balad Air Base, Iraq
Saturday, October 08, 2005
Friends and Enemies
I would like to think that most people I encounter view me as a friend, but I think that would be over stepping my boundaries. I admit it, when I meet someone that I don't like I tend to let them know about it. {There are exceptions to the rule.}
Some of the people who obviously do not like me have been avoiding me. I know this because I keep running into their coworkers. A little odd. Some of you know this person or people and I do find it quite odd.
The funny part is, I am not looking to pick a fight, have an argument, or have a run in with anyone while I am here. I feel that I can hold my own and be the bigger person.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Correction
A horse by any other color. ~ A bird in the hand as luck would have it.
Sunday, October 02, 2005
T minus 301: Day 54: Rotation Time Minus 34
My opinions have been muted.
My time is being restricted.
My A/C is not working.
I found myself in love with the world so there was only one thing that i could do was ding a ding dang my dang a long ling long