Security Reality

Yesterday’s unthinkable tragedy inflicted against innocent victims in an environment where learning, love, and laughter were supposed to prevail has shaken the confidence and core of the American psyche.  This is the essence of terrorism and all of its companion effects.  Undoubtedly the public discourse and debate regarding school security and gun control will rise again to the surface of our preoccupation, with many an expert spouting facts, figures, recommendations, and remedies to free this nation from the grip of homegrown criminal terror.  Unfortunately, with all of the opinion and expertise circling about, only a few will focus the narrative on some basic realities of our time.

Americans are weak.  We abdicate our individual responsibility as free, self-reliant people to live by a code of humble and confident preparedness.  We expect others to assume the obligation for our security and that of our families and loved ones.  We roll through life with our heads buried in our technology while the sick and evil among us watch with anticipation, knowing full well their day of infamy will come.  We are oblivious to this reality because our sense of perpetual entitlement extends to one of our most fundamental individual mandates, self-protection.

The most common misperception with regard to security confidence is that physical and procedural security will either prevent or mitigate all unwanted events.  While they have their place, they cannot and should not be considered as completely sufficient countermeasures.  The best locks, cameras, access controls, physical deterrents, policies, and procedures are no match for a determined adversary.  Keep in mind one truth; what can be seen can be defeated.  The mistake we make is assuming that because we see or know these measures exist we are now entitled to some guarantee of safety.  A bad-guy sees these things as speed bumps along the pathway to the desired end-state.  A few minor adjustments and minimal planning and all of the time, money, and resources expended can be made to look insufficient in a minute.

What truly is needed are a major mindset shift and the corresponding assumption of personal responsibility.  If physical and procedural security efforts can be detected and ascertained by an adversary, then we individually and collectively need to beef up the more important countermeasures that are not visible to the naked eye.  Imagine a nation of prepared and capable citizens who refuse to allow perpetrators to ever have any victims.  In a sense, it’s time to start victimizing the perps with heightened intellect and physical capability.  If every man and woman with the physical and mental capacity to learn and develop basic skills would step up to the plate and embrace self-reliant personal security expertise, then the collective result will be communities of powerful and legitimate deterrents to terror.  Think back to the cold war theme of mutual assured destruction and the deterring power of placing adversaries in check by forcing them to consider their own potential demise as a result of their intent to create yours.  Planting even a minor seed of doubt in the mind of a bad-guy yields huge dividends as they explore options for carrying out their plan. 

And even this approach is insufficient.  Additionally, each individual must have the hard conversation as to their personal threshold or redline that would cause them to be willing to take homicidal action against another while knowing their own mortality would be forfeited.  What about your life is worth fighting and dying for?  What has to happen for you to get prepared and/or be engaged?  Would you take a life to protect another?  Are you willing to die or watch your loved ones die at the hands of a madman?  Having this self-inquiry during an event is the wrong time and will result in hesitation leading to failure.  Consider yourself now and then do something about it.

As long as individuals are willing to be victims there will be victims.  As long as we don’t prepare ourselves to protect the innocent among us there will be victims.  Evil exists and will continue to do so.  It will manifest itself in various forms and continue to evolve in its effects and outcomes.  Fundamental to our individual and collective existence is the requirement for the reality that safety and security affords us.  It is not the mandate of another; it is your mandate, it is my mandate.  Get your head right and then take specific and deliberate action.  Let’s work diligently to create a country that plants collective seeds of doubt in the minds of would-be adversaries.  Let’s take comfort and derive quiet confidence in the reality that we are prepared for the worst they desire to inflict upon us.  Let’s not settle for forfeiting our God-given right to live and live free from evil.  Prayer is an effective opportunity to receive guidance, comfort, and intervention but only after we have demonstrated a willingness to do all within our capacity to do without it.  Make the choice/commitment and make it soon.

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A Dangerous Card To Play

Last Sunday morning at approximately 2:00 a.m., I was walking eastbound on Franklin Street approaching N. 5th Street in RVA. I was drawn to that feverish noise I hadn’t heard in some years. It was the sound of spring chaos in the street. When I worked these streets I loved the energy of that sound and like it or not, the chaos that accompanied it. True to form I was not disappointed this time either. As I approached the intersection all I saw was a sea of Richmonders (I guess) who looked to have just come out of an establishment on 5th and were emptying into the streets. There was obvious contention amongst a portion of the crowd as the volume, replete with expletives, gave all indication that things were about to get ugly. 

With the throw of the first punch all I suspected was instantly confirmed. The cowardly pile-on began and led to other spill-off brawls with the same many-to-one ratios that are typical in these settings. Everyone wants to get a punch in when they can do so with perceived impunity and when the odds are heavily stacked in their favor. I saw off-duty police and security attempting to quell the madness but they had no effect. They did have time to call in the cavalry though. A few minutes after the fray began I heard the faint evidence of sirens indicating that help was on its way. This always adds the dimension of fast-track scattering among the participants. It in and of itself is an unchoreographed dance that is fun to watch.

I took up a position at the southwest corner of the intersection right in front of a British pub and I stood amongst a group of people who had emptied this establishment and were doing just as I was…….watching. I heard one gentlemen remark, “black people don’t know how to act”. I hope to conjure up some imagery in your mind at this point. A bunch of white people standing on a street corner in front of a pub watching a large group of black people beating the shit out of a few of their own. I wish I could have heard what the non-fighting black folks were saying too. How does something like this make them feel? Who was to blame? What were the facts that led to the melee? Was there a victim or just multiple perpetrators doing battle? Could justice find its way into any of this and make a difference for anyone? Does justice really matter or is selfish hype more important? 

I could not help over the last week but consider that which I witnessed against the backdrop of all the controversy and rhetoric surrounding the Trayvon Martin case. If one were to attempt to decipher the many variables surrounding this early morning street fight and build a strong case from it they would be hard-pressed to do so. Likewise, the facts….the truths of the Martin-Zimmerman case will be tough to uncover but not impossible. There are two sides to that tragedy regardless of what all the uppity experts and advocates are saying. What some choose to claim is clear-cut is in fact murky reality at best. The fog of that night’s war is truly only known by those involved, and God Almighty. And even though the reverend-duo of Jackson and Sharpton claim to be men of the cloth, they are no more prescient about how this thing will play out than any of us. In fact, their rush-to-street-judgment rhetoric, incitement of violent words and actions, and over-reliance on adding racial fuel to the existing fire could have far greater adverse outcomes than the loss of Trayvon himself. 

The truth exists; words were said, actions were conducted, and one young man is dead as a result. The substance of the words and the nature of the actions are less important than the reality of a family losing a child. Effort will be expended to uncover as much of that truth as can be realized. If Zimmerman turns out to be an over-zealous cop wanna-be with a racial bias guiding his public service actions, then arrest him, try him, convict him, and put him away. If Trayvon himself was culpable to any extent in the events of that night, let those realities be known as well. Regardless, let the system work towards the appropriate conclusion and resulting actions commensurate with the truths that existed that night. 

There is absolutely no call for the Jacksons, Sharptons, Lees, and Black Panthers of the world to use this tragedy as another opportunity to pull the race card and generalize it over the entire non-black population. Where was their “leadership” last Sunday morning in Richmond when the fight was on? Where are their calls for justice and racial harmony when black men victimize black men or when black men victimize white men? Their rhetoric and its accompanying fallout is dangerous when selectively applied and only in cases that bring them notoriety as concerned parties determined to reveal the plight of the black man. They speak not of racial equity for all but ally themselves only to those incidents to which the card can be easily applied and get the most self-centered mileage. In short, they are using the Martin family’s misfortune for their own misguided aims and nothing they say or do will alter the events the night young Trayvon died. 

Racism is a reality of human existence. It varies in degrees based on the individual but some residue probably exists in all of us. Some choose to embrace its clutches and act upon it. Others choose to acknowledge its destructive power and turn away from it. But I think the most dangerous purveyors of its craft are those who use it, manipulate it, perpetuate it, and do so in the name of equality. These subtle fomenters of hate mask themselves in the façade of unity but sustain undercurrents of division in their very words and deeds. If one could waive a magic wand and give these enemies of humanity what they think they want I am confident they wouldn’t accept it. For it would require them to reject their own biases and acknowledge their own shortcomings. The humility required to accept we all are just one of many and not entitled to special accommodation would be more than they could bear and would mandate that they turn in their cards. Without a trump or a crutch, whatever would they do with their lives?

From Whence We Came

The more digging I do into my family history the more intrigued I am and consequently, the more work I want to do. I have always been fascinated by stories from history and now find many family anecdotes superimposed on major historical events. For instance, my 1st cousin – 6 generations removed was the noble Samuel Lount who participated in Mackenzie’s Rebellion in Upper Canada in 1837 and was hanged and mutilated in 1838…..and this guy was a pacifist Quaker! (http://www.utopiapictures.com/samuellount.html)


I had 3rd great-grandfathers on both sides of the Civil War one of whom, William Angus, was taken POW at the Battle of Spotsylvania Courthouse and moved to the horrible Union prison camp at Point Lookout, Maryland in 1864. He lasted only a few months after his arrival and succumbed eventually to dysentery (http://www.plpow.com/). I often wonder if at any time during that war whether my ancestors were actually shooting at each other…..now that would be a story for their progeny.


And then I also have the relevant reality of mixed races in and through portions of my ancestry. My favorite family hero in this regard has to be one Clarence Ray Angus (my 1st cousin – 1 generation removed). Born to a black father and a white mother, “Ray” and his sister Mary were snatched from the mountains in Virginia by social services and sent to go live with “their people” in Richmond. How stupid was that? By the age of 18 he was in the United States Marine Corps and serving his first tour in Vietnam. Within a month of his second combat tour he was killed in action, 15 August 1967. (http://marines.togetherweserved.com/usmc/servlet/tws.webapp.WebApp?cmd=ShadowBoxProfile&type=Person&ID=120513). A patriot true to his Scots-Irish heritage and the Angus name which he bore. Likewise, his service demonstrated the noble contribution of a very special black American who put his country and his family above his own self-interest. Man, what we all can learn from guys like Ray (take some notes President Obama!)


My point in this personal trip down memory lane is we all come from somewhere and from a host of forebears. In everyone’s individual search for identity, sometimes folks are quick to ally themselves with only a portion of their heritage and sometimes unknowingly against others. I find it to be an imperative that to truly understand who we are we must entertain and embrace the reality regarding those from whom we are descended. From my pacifist rebel cousin to my Confederate and Union great grand-fathers to my favorite Marine cousin, I gratefully accept their contributions to my family and the realities of their individual situations. Knowing them helps me to know myself and they are but a portion of the totality of my ancestors. The greatest benefit of all of this, in addition to the privilege of honoring my family, is the bestowal of this wealth of information upon my greatest treasures – my children. My hope is that they too will develop a passion for knowing who they are and from whence they came.

How to spell failure - USNA

I am quite proud of my children. My second son just completed his sophomore year at the United States Naval Academy. I remember the first time we took him there for a visit. He knew on that day, many years before he ever graduated from high school, that the Academy was where he wanted to be.

Several years later all that has changed. The Naval Academy has let him down. The honor, heritage, tradition, and prestige that once attracted him to the place has turned out to be nothing more than a bonafide example of cosmetic smoke and mirrors. On its surface the Naval Academy looks quite remarkable as an institution. At its core however, it has become a second-rate academic and military institution that does little to prepare its students for the realities of the military they will serve or the potential life-altering missions that await them. One of the Academy's own veteran employees acknowledges this change of direction:
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/21/opinion/21fleming.html?pagewanted=1

Its pretty sad that during a time when our Nation is embroiled in warfare on many fronts, our leaders (civilian and military) have allowed the Naval Academy to degrade to a level that places political correctness, diversity quotas, and careerism above the fundamental mandate to prepare leaders to defend the United States of America. The legacy of everyone who has directly or indirectly contributed to this failure can only be characterized as an abdication of responsibility consistent with criminal negligence. A failure to prepare these young men and women to be warrior leaders will have ripple effects that manifest in the form of risk-averse decision making, career before mission, double standards, combat ineffectiveness, and ultimately the collective weakening of the United States. If I was Haji or Charlie I would be laughing at us!

It would be interesting to see what would happen if a couple of boats filled with bad-guys approached the Academy grounds from the Severn River and decided to mount an attack. What would the brigade and its leadership do? I'm sure the Academy grounds would be well defended once the two mids who recently got caught blowing each other for money realized what was going on and postponed their fellatio session. Oh, and also when the blunt-smoking-quota-mid doubling as an athlete puts down his herb and clears the THC from his head, I'm sure he will quickly get in the fight. And lest we forget; I expect that the Firsty who likes to wave loaded guns around while drunk and not knowing the condition of his weapon better pound a few more shots, find a fresh mag, and get to killin' the enemy!! Undoubtedly, the prior enlisted Marines and Sailors would lead the defense while the rest of the limp-hearted mids and their band of merry faculty soiled themselves and screamed out, "I can't believe this is happening!"

But.....if none of that becomes reality I am quite confident in what my son will do......because he got better training, education, and preparation at home!!

Hidden Tattoos

Got some new ink last week. I am always amazed at the reaction you get from folks, young and old, when you take the plunge and get a tattoo. I have three now. Got my first one in Hawaii in 1986, the second in Hawaii in 2000, and the latest one in Florida. Are there more to follow? Probably.....maybe....who knows?

The whole notion of the tattoo is highly personal. Why would we alter our external appearance permanently? There are many reasons and from my chair all of them are essentially valid. After all, personal is personal.

What perplexes me is that folks tend to use the existence of the outward tattoo as a basis for judgment just as they use other elements of appearance for the same purpose. Some even come right and tell you how wrong it is and how they would never do something like that. I respect that.....but I also would counter their contention with the fact that all of us are tattooed in one form or the other.

I may have three that can be seen but I daresay there are hundreds inked indelibly on my heart, mind, and spirit that all speak to who it is I am and the kind of life I have lived. Some of them are highly positive and many of them not. But they are mine and although they are hidden from view, I know where to find them. And yes they are personal, as they should be.

So as you consider the sum total of what makes us tick, give a thought to your own permanent ink, wherever it may reside. Then the next time you see a guy or a gal with a fresh tat, ask them about it and listen to the whys of it all. None of us have cornered the market on perfection but the collective mosaic of all our ink, internal and external, tells a pretty interesting story.

Attention Anticipation Disorder (AAD)

Technology is an enabler of many things. It has brought us closer together (figuratively speaking) from the standpoint of globalization. Its pervasive evolutionary effects touch every aspect of our lives and our dependency on it has changed the way in which we view ourselves and the world. The reality of this new dependency is creating a 21st century technology addiction.

Everyone wants to be wanted, wants to be needed, and wants to feel included somewhere. It’s human nature and even those who say they don’t probably do. Technology has given us the tools to stay in touch, maintain persistent contact, and exist together without necessarily having to be in the same place. The itch of wanting or needing attention from others gets scratched so often now that for some, it becomes an insatiable desire that is never fully satisfied. Like any addiction, the psychological need for stimulation starts to control every aspect of life.

Look around you. How often do you see people engrossed in constant perusal and manipulation of their technology? Access to attention, real or perceived, has captured our awareness and holds it hostage in the hopes that the insatiable itch gets scratched. We all love our gadgets because they give us access to what we think we need and want. Be it desktop or portable, these tools exacerbate the need for persistent attention. Technology is wonderful and does so much for all of us. But, as is consistent in life, too much reliance on any one thing or person can cripple an individual and deny them peace of mind.

Young people are especially vulnerable. Their desire for attention and inclusion is no different now that it ever has been. What is different is the tools now exist to facilitate the almost unquenchable need for constant validation via communication. I call it Attention Anticipation Disorder (AAD). The anticipation of receiving attention from someone becomes a mental need for that contact, regardless of whether it’s substantive of frivolous. Unfortunately this need preempts all other matters of importance in life. School, family, work, community, etc. all take a back seat to the potential that we are about to be on the receiving end of some attention. The world will have to wait……I’ve got mail! The satisfaction of the ubiquitous attention supersedes the substance of the communication. That is how priorities get screwed up and the disorder starts to claim its victims.

Real danger comes when there is a lull in attention; a reduction in frequency or an outright absence of communication. Then the need forces the individual to stimulate attention by saying or doing something that is sure to warrant a response. These periods of virtual darkness can leave a person feeling lonely and unsatisfied. Attention makes us feel good. Anticipating attention feels good only so long as the attention actually comes. When it doesn’t, then anticipation alone can be excruciating. “Chasing the high” is often associated with drug addiction. I see a major correlation as it relates to AAD.

I am not a doctor or a scientist and I have zero intention of doing any research. I just pay attention to the world around me and offer my opinion when the mood strikes me. In my own family I have seen AAD invade our home and take over to the point where rational thought and reasonable activity are supplanted by addict-like behavior. Take the time to observe the role of technology in your life and the lives of your children. Look for the warning signs of obsession. Self-impose limits personally and for your family. Enjoy all its benefits but don’t hesitate to pull the plug when it starts to get in the way of all that is important to you. Who knows? Maybe one day we will all start looking at each other and talking again.

Don't Ask Don't Tell Solution

President Obama’s recent decree that he will put an end to “Don’t ask don’t tell” is by all accounts a transformational declaration of most promising proportions. During this period of war we need every heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, transgender (pre-op), transgender (post-op), male and female who are able bodied and willing to answer the Nation’s call. I care not about who these folks are attracted to or what they do within the confines of their own bedrooms. Military service should be available to all who have a desire to defend the United States of America.

There are just a few things that we need to iron out in order to facilitate the reversal of this policy that has caused such uproar for so long. Maybe if we work fast enough on the details we can open the floodgates for our new volunteers to be part of the upcoming surge in Afghanistan. I’m sure many are waiting in the wings, chomping at the proverbial bit, anxious to grab their rifles and start annihilating the enemy. I want them to have their opportunity.

Now back to those few things that need to be done. It all boils down to some fairly practical matters; billeting and bathing. Since the full integration of all parties interested in service will bring together a spectrum of attractions, intentions, and environmental conditions regarding close-quarter living, we just need to iron out those details of who will be sharing intimate space with whom. After all, we must protect the personal privacy inherent in the individual at the same time celebrate the diversity of our ranks.

How shall we do this? Who will billet and bathe in the same facilities?

Heterosexual males and homosexual females? Nope
Heterosexual males and homosexual males? Nope
Heterosexual males and bisexual males? Nope
Heterosexual males and bisexual females? Nope
Heterosexual transgender (pre-op) males and homosexual transgender (post-op) females? Nope

Okay, this doesn’t seem to work as easy as I thought it would. I’m sure there is a combination out there that will make this easy but I can’t seem to nail it down. Since everyone (including white male heterosexuals over 40!) has a right to the protection of their gender and sexual orientation from the unwanted advances and potentially uncomfortable realities of others who might be attracted to them, the open inclusion of all representative groups is going to mandate huge infrastructure upgrades to accommodate the various dispositions. So we will need billeting segregated by gender and orientation, as well as bathroom facilities. I guess we could just use the same bathrooms but set up specific times of day for the let’s say homosexual female transgender (post-op) folks. We could just work up a simple schedule. That way no one is in danger of being in those intimate private circumstances with someone representing another demographic thereby causing discomfort and affecting the mission. Or we could just build a host of one-person rooms, each with its own bathroom and assign one to every service member throughout the globe. But, then there’s the cost.

Oh wait! Here is another option.

I am all for every swinging Richard (oops! Will need to find an alternate saying!!)…..every worthy individual desiring to serve this Nation having the unfettered opportunity to do so. With a plethora of limp-wristed Americans who feel that the country’s problems are not their problems, it is refreshing that there are still others willing to answer the call. So let them.

The easy way to make this happen is to remove all restrictions (except those currently used to determine suitability for service) on who can join and who can do what. Declare that acceptance into the military makes you a military serviceperson, independent of your gender, race, sexual orientation, religion, creed, or background. Establish one standard for service. If the individual meets the entry requirements then he/she can participate in the full spectrum of service options without regard to any individual discriminators. That means one height/weight standard, one physical fitness standard, no preclusion for direct combat service, all jobs available to all who qualify for the prerequisites. This also mandates that military persons live, bathe, eat, sleep, and work in unisex facilities to be provided. There can be no special treatment, preference, segregation, unique accommodation, protected class of individual, or other policy that provides anything for an individual above or below the standard for the whole. This is truly an all for one and one for all approach and the true essence of team.

Gone will be the days of different standards and double standards for males and females that have degraded military effectiveness for years. It will be refreshing to do away with “conditional equality” and see everyone as equal contributors held to the same standard. We can welcome our new personnel and not be shackled by the mindsets and considerations of the past that diverted attention and resources from our most pressing concerns. We might actually improve our collective capabilities and turn a corner towards a military focused on mission in lieu of social experimentation.

History might prove that President Obama actually earned that Nobel Peace Prize after all. Once we create our new “one-standard” military and leverage all this talent waiting to serve, we can get busy destroying the enemy which will hopefully result in some degree of lasting peace and validate his preemptive award.

I guess this might really be as easy in practice as it was for the President to declare it. I’m excited about the future!!

Commercial Freedom

It is official. I hate TV. What a waste of life. I admit I still watch a good sports event or old movie with regularity. And, I do attempt to stay informed (whatever!) via watching various news programs. But, as my darling sister Deb (you might know her as the best Blog designer East of the Mississippi) knows too well, it's the ubiquitous commercial interruptions that are at the heart of my disdain!!! (ask her about Big Daddy and the remote)
http://fitzhugh-life.blogspot.com/


I have narrowed my issue down to two root causes. First and foremost is the computer. Technology and our control of it have made us all very impatient to the extent that we are conditioned to "minimize" or "x-out" of anything we don't like or that is not moving fast enough for us. Check out this link for an interesting read when you have some time to kill. (www.marcprensky.com/writing )
Click on the link for Digital Natives, Digital Immigrants.

Commercial interruptions disrupt the flow of the entertainment and by virtue of the aforementioned impatience I must get rid off them. And besides, none of the advertisements do anything to influence how I live, what I buy, where I go, or who I am. Which brings me to the second source of my pain. The commercials themselves.

It is painfully obvious that the advertising world has been taken over by women who are trying to get subtle points across by the manner in which men are portrayed. This is especially true in any commercial that depicts men and women in a family setting. The woman is usually attractive, well spoken, confident, and running the show (so to speak). By contrast the man is usually the stereotype of what women don't want (or maybe what they do want so their imperfections are overshadowed); overweight, balding, not too bright, submissive, weak, whiny, etc. The typical loser-dumb-jock-idiot seems to be the baseline standard.

I will refrain from giving any examples. I just want to plant the seed so as you are spending quality time watching this mind-numbing mess, you might have an "aha moment" when you see for yourself how true this is. And don't forget the Sitcoms. There have been many a hottie married to the dumb fat guy or total boob but you will never see a hunk-of-burning-man married to a chunky-butt stupid female. That just doesn't happen but if it does please let me know so I can watch that show!

Now, before anyone gets their unmentionables in a wad, relax. I hate double standards of any sort. In any context whether it be race, gender, orientation, etc. it matters not to me what your deal is. Just don't scream "EQUALITY" and then unbalance the scale by your actions. Hypocrisy beams like a beacon in the night. I'm overweight and balding by the way.

Dishwashers

I couldn't sleep this morning so I was up very early. I happened upon a great story on TV about our current struggles against Osama Bin Laden and his cohorts who are hell-bent on our destruction. After that show I watched the tail-end of a program on how Parris Island makes Marines. They interviewed many of the recruits undergoing training and asked what drove them to serve.

One particular recruit put it all in perspective. He said, "you don't get invited to someone's house for dinner and not offer to help out with the dishes". This Marine gets it. He understands that when you benefit from the goodness of others, there exists an inherent obligation to pitch in and offer to help.

How long have we been feasting at the table of freedom offered by the sacrifices of some of our countrymen? Why is it that only few Americans feel compelled to lend a hand cleaning up our problems? I have no expectation that everyone hop the next plane to Parris Island, but I do think that more of us could and should actively seek out ways to help fight our way through this madness.

If nothing else, more should be done to educate ourselves as to what exactly we are up against. Our children should be introduced to the concept of patriotism. They need to understand the realities of the country in which they live and that real people have died preserving their way of life. Reach out to someone who has been in the fight, lost a loved one, or endured a long separation from their family. Don't assume you understand until you have made a real effort to. Ignore your preconceived notions of why we are at war and who's to blame. Focus on the reality that we are and it won't end anytime soon.

We are a nation of 300 million Americans. Our sink is full; certainly more of us could help wash the dishes.

"Driving" me crazy....

A few weeks ago I was in Denver with some time to kill so I went to the house I lived in for a few years as a child. I walked up to the door, rang the doorbell and asked the nice woman who answered if she had any objection to me taking a picture of the house. She asked me to clarify my name again and when I did she got all excited and invited me in. Apparently she and her husband bought the house from my parents 35 years ago and they have been living there ever since. The house looked great by the way and it was a treat to step back in time and see the old fireplace where my siblings and I posed for pictures in our PJs.

As I was talking to these fine people the subject of how much they paid for the house came up. It was somewhere in the neighborhood of 33K back in ’73 let’s say. WOW!! Kind of makes me want to hurl considering what I paid for my current house three years ago!

Now my point……

Listening to the news in the last 24 hours you might have heard all the hue and cry regarding the auto industry and their sad sales numbers for December. I am about sick of hearing how terrible this is and how my money should be used to help this bunch of ungrateful nuts salvage their livelihoods. You see, over the last many years the auto industry and everyone associated with it has done very well. The 33K used in 1973 to purchase a modest single-family home is now the price tag for a vehicle with some degree of quality.

I do not feel much sympathy for an industry that has been living the good life for a long time raping the public with over-priced, poorly built, machines of convenience that will never last as long as that house I lived in. Think of the cheesy approach of the salesman as you pull into the parking lot of a dealership just to have a look. The frothing at the mouth as they start working numbers in their minds based on what you look like, what you drove up in, and how well you know their products. Then fast-forward to the game that is played with the sales manager as you “negotiate” the actual out-the-door price and each time you give him/her your number they tell you how it “should” be no problem. Don’t even get me started on the whole financing game where the vultures prey on the weak and target those who really can’t afford a car but can easily get talked into signing on the dotted line.

Before we even get to this point, thousands of people are all working together to build these overpriced hunks of junk in factories all over the country. They have union contracts and make good money doing mind-numbing work so this whole game can continue. Have you ever bought a “Monday” car? How about a “Friday” car? I have this theory that on certain days the workers aren’t worth a crap and consequently the cars coming off the line those days are the lemons we all get to purchase.

I am being way too hard on these people I know. I really don’t know much about the industry but as a customer I have some experience. I have nothing against people making a living in their chosen vocation. I do however take issue with the whining and need for a handout to aid those who are victims of their own avarice. I say let the companies fall on their faces. In a capitalist society this happens. It is okay and yes there will be fallout but I am not signing up to fix their problems with my money. If these people associated with this industry are having a tough time then they should do as others have done and make a change.

Our economy is in the shitter right now regardless. Maybe the best way for all of us to get a grip is to feel some of the sting of the past many years-of-plenty. Fat years and lean years are not a new concept. History shows that when life is good we fail to acknowledge it sufficiently with gratitude and temperance and we fail to prepare for the eventual downturns that are sure to follow. It is interesting how we ourselves seem to be in full control of all of this. So why are we complaining now?

The Real Santa

Where did this whole notion of Santa Claus come from? I remember as a young boy getting so excited about Christmas that I would try to stay up as long as I could to get a glimpse of the big guy. I would hide in my closet and listen intently for any sound of the sleigh touching down on the roof or the bells around the necks of his reindeer. Back then it was all about the mystery and magic of Santa and the gifts he was sure to bring. I didn’t care much for the whole “naughty-or-nice” list thing; I figured Santa took pity on those of us who may have strayed during the year. I knew I was bad and yet Santa faithfully hooked me up anyway.

I have thought many times since those days about just how Christ-like this Santa Claus fellow really is. I guess maybe that is by design since he represents all that is good and right about Christmas. Even a non-Christian can get on board the Santa train because of this goodness. Youngsters are blinded by the “things” part of the equation. As we get older however, we understand that it is the selfless “giving” part that is at the heart of it all.

The story of the birth of Christ has always made sense to me. I am no religious scholar nor do I practice my own faith. But, in spite of my failings I can fully get my head and heart around the reality that Jesus was born of humble circumstances. He was brought into the world at a time and a place without fireworks and fanfare. His parents were modest, imperfect human beings chosen to take part in this most awesome of undertakings; the gift of the Savior to the world. Our Heavenly Father, knowing our tendencies toward selfish pursuits, allowed His Son to come into this wild wicked world, receive a body, and live as the rest of us…….only better. Not better from the standpoint of status or wealth, but better in the sense that He set the perfect example of how we all can and should live.

Some would argue that the Savior should have come mightily from the heavens for all to witness so they would instantly believe it was in fact Him. I think the beauty of this story is that He came in under the radar; a simple, tiny gift from heaven with more value and worth than anything earth could provide. The reality of this first gift is at the heart of this thing called Christmas.

Jesus spent His life sharing His simple gifts of love, compassion, forgiveness, and service to all who had the pleasure of knowing Him. He embodied the Christmas spirit because He was Christmas. After a short lifetime of goodness unequaled by anyone, he offered Himself as a final gift of sacrifice so that we all can have the opportunity to return to our Father in Heaven. Has there ever been a greater act of love? Rephrased, has there ever been a greater Christmas present?

The story of His humble birth, life of love, and final sacrifice should resonate with all of us as we sit in our closets waiting for Santa to show up this and every year. Just as Santa always came through for me in spite of my perpetual status on the “naughty” list, Jesus comes through for all of us with his pervasive mercy, grace, forgiveness, and love. So as I lie awake tonight anxiously awaiting a sign that the big guy has found me again, it wouldn’t surprise me much if I look by the fireplace and catch a glimpse of Santa looking a lot like Jesus.

Citizen Defined

Thank goodness members of my family are feeding me material to compensate for the absence of anything substantive from me! My Padre was impressed recently by news story describing how some U.S. companies are truly going the extra mile in support of the military Guard and Reserves. Companies like Sears employ policies that are directly contributing to the war effort by taking care of those who are taking care of us.

(http://www.searsholdings.com/communityrelations/hero/military.htm)

Most Americans have no real appreciation for the sacrifices of our citizen soldiers ("soldiers" here refers to Sailors, Airmen, and Marines too!). They come from all walks of life and when not in uniform, might be found doing any number of jobs in the community. Their greatness lies in the reality that they are like everyone else but with one exception. They hold down a part-time job that requires at times that they forgo all they know, love, and do as a matter of routine in life, lace up their boots and head off to serve and fight on our behalf. They are the only thing standing between most of you able-bodied Americans and the draft.......man, do you owe these folks BIGTIME!!!!

Since the days immediately following 9/11 these selfless super-heroes have been all over the globe doing their part-time gig full-time. Many have completed multiple tours of duty and too many have come home in flag-draped coffins. History will show that any victory we have achieved and any claims of a war won will rest on the reality of their contributions and sacrifice. Whether or not your politics and/or personal constitution can stomach the realities of our current struggles, you cannot argue against the merits of these fine Americans and all that they have done and continue to do. The days of the flawed reference to them as "Weekend Warriors" has been supplanted by a simple branding of "Warriors".

If you know a Guardsman or Reservist, give them a hug and say thanks! Thank them for doing what you would not. Thank them for taking time away from their regular lives so you can continue on with yours. Find the lonely spouse and children whose Mom or Dad are far away during this holiday season. Reach out to them and show your appreciation for what they endure on your behalf. And for those who left never to return, look to the heavens, smile, and offer a silent prayer of gratitude to them for paying the ultimate price as your proxy of selfless sacrifice.

Oh yes, one more thing.......as you are looking heavenward, thank God Almighty for instilling in the hearts of some Americans the strength and desire to be different, act different, serve different, even at their own peril.

Sibling Perspective

Quality material from my younger brother...........too good not to share.

The World's Shortest Fairy Tale:

Once upon a time, a guy asked a girl 'Will you marry me?' The girl
said, 'NO!'

And the guy lived happily ever after and rode motorcycles and
went fishing and hunting and played golf a lot and drank beer and scotch and left the toilet seat up and did whatever he wanted.

THE END

Nary a Cohesive Thought

I have been quite remiss in posting anything of late. My brain is on lockdown for some reason. Not sure if it's the holiday madness, work, school, or what. It's not like I have stopped thinking about EVERYTHING in the world......that's just what I do. I just cant get focused into a groove of verbosity.

I like guns so I think I will do a brief rapid-fire "top-ten-things-in-my-head list".............here goes.

1. 5-10 guys with some will and minor coordination can change the world......thinking of Mumbai.
2. Most people cannot drive worth a crap.......especially during this time of year. If you are one of them, fix yourself!
3. I admire young people who are devoted to anything; school, family, church, career. My kids amaze me every day of my life!
4. The Secret Service needs to reevaluate their training programs. The Iraqi should have have been neutralized with extreme prejudice after throwing the first shoe.
5. The world should give more credit to single fathers......they do great things in the midst of bad odds too.
6. Everyone should experience at least one Christmas season away from all they know and love.......do it, you won't regret it.
7. There is extreme power in doing what is right even when you really don't want to.
8. Obama and his band of merry followers have their work cut out for them........a good reminder to always be careful what you wish for.
9. Silence is one of the greatest gifts of life........enjoy some soon.
10. Take the time to thank a veteran; they deserve it and you owe it to them.

Signed,

Scatterbrained

Kicking to Nowhere

I love soccer. It’s called the beautiful game for a reason. It’s the combination of skill, speed, and endurance. I have had the pleasure of watching all of my children play at one time or another in their lives. I know they tired of me yelling commands from the cheap seats but the things I would tell them actually worked if applied. I played a little back in the Stone Age myself!

There is a tendency in the beautiful game that drives me nuts. You would think that with a team of eleven players and two goals from which to choose, no one would ever simply kick the ball without a purpose. But, it happens all the time. I call it kicking to nowhere and I have probably yelled that phrase equal to or greater than the number of soccer matches I have attended or watched on the television.

In a team sport that requires max participation of all involved I can’t for the life of me understand why a player is so quick to get rid of the ball and toward a direction with no tangible yield. If you think of it in terms of what happens when you do the opposite – meaning kicking to somewhere – it puts it all in perspective. Kicking to somewhere leads to opportunities which lead to goals being scored which leads to victories. That “somewhere” could be a teammate, a section of the field that starts a run on the goal, or to the goal itself. The “somewhere” has a purpose behind it, “nowhere” does not.

I can’t help but liken this phenomenon to our lives. How many of us spend inordinate amounts of time kicking to nowhere? Think about it…….

Do you get yield because you are making well aimed passes to your life teammates? Do you set up the conditions for success because you place your ball (metaphor for energy and effort) in a portion of the field where something positive can be done with it? Are you willing to pull the trigger and take the open shot or even the hard shot because the goal is in front of you and it’s yours for the taking?

I have yet to see any soccer team, no matter how skilled the individual players, have any degree of success or victory by spending 90 minutes kicking the ball to nowhere. In contrast I have seen teams suffer many losses and players disenchanted with the game because of that very tendency.

So too have I seen this in life; from others and from myself. If you equate your time on this earth to a 90-minute soccer match, you might realize how important it is to take the time and make the commitment to kicking your ball to somewhere. It’s unfair to let your teammates bear your share of the responsibility and you’ll never truly appreciate your own skill in life unless you own your actions and ensure they have purpose.

The next time you see a soccer match in progress, take the time to have a look and see if you don’t agree. Kicking to nowhere is wasted effort and leaves you with nothing but a sore foot.

Bully Stomp

I know a fine young man who has a heart of gold. He's 12 years old and in 6th grade. He is a fun-loving kid who loves sports, video games, and soccer. He is likable and very loving to his family; especially his Mom. Last year he started acting quite strangely each day before school. He would wake up frazzled to the point of spending his first hour awake on the throne. He popped Pepto for breakfast instead of his favorite chocolate donuts. He left home in tears and struggled to get through each day.

This went on for several months. Each attempt to ascertain what the problem was met with insistence from him that he didn't know. His teachers were at a loss too. No one could nail it down. Finally, a tearful breakthrough came one day as he got it off his chest and told his Mom what was bringing him down..........he was being bullied at school.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. Again the behavior reared its ugly head. He was distant, withdrawn, and sick to his stomach. Believe it or not, when asked if his "problem" had resurfaced he adamantly denied it....at first. It didn't take as long this time to get the truth from him. The same bully was back in action.

Long story short, the problem is being dealt with but it highlights a reality that is disturbing. There is a tendency for victims to fear the perpetrator more than trust the good-guys in their life. They will let the pain of intimidation destroy them rather than tell someone who cares. What makes matters worse is when the oppressor threatens the victim with greater pain if they are inclined to rat them out. Talk about compounding the fear.

We live in a world full of bullies. They are not only in the schools, but in business, industry, and the government (ours and others). They come in all shapes and sizes and all have a similar motive. They want someone else to hurt so they feel better. The problem is they never feel better because ultimately they are miserable for one reason or another. Or, they have been victims themselves so they pass it on to others. Either way it creates a situation of pain.

What is needed is a massive Bully Stomp. If all the would-be victims in this world would rise up and kick the shit out of their respective bully, it might just send a long-needed message. Now I know the "experts" and the "pacifists" among us would argue against it. Yes, each situation is different and yes, some victims might not be as innocent as others. But, think of the power in a revolt! History has shown that a good uprising can make a difference.

The best way to disrupt the planning and execution of an adversarial plan is to do the exact opposite of what they are expecting their victim to do. Their intent is to do their deed at a time and place of their choosing. They expect success and gain strength with each subsequent action. They target the perceived weak among us so as to make their job easier. This is why it is so important to cut them off at the knees, right when they begin. Hit them hard, hit them fast, and don't stop until the threat is neutralized. In the words of one segment of the fighter pilot community; "Go ugly early!"

Teach yourself, teach your kids, teach your friends and family to commit to a life free of victimization. Make the decision now to disrupt the bullies in your life. Not every case calls for the extreme, but sending a message appropriate for the level of pain being inflicted upon you in not unreasonable. What matters most is that you do something and that they don't get to do what they had intended. Each effort toward this end will empower you to hold your head a little higher, display a little more confidence, and make you a much less attractive target.

And, if by chance you happen to be a bully........standby!

Splashback, Nose Mining, and Deep Breathing

Work has been slow lately so I have had the freedom to think a bit. One thought that keeps returning is how nasty grown men are. I make the trip to the restroom several times a day. Nothing out of the ordinary, just standard visits. Being a fairly aware individual I can't help but notice the fruits of some habits that really rub me the wrong way.

Men have the ability to direct flow by virtue of their anatomic design features. Like any gun, you point and shoot.....so to speak. The fluids to be expelled can be easily directed toward the receptacles designed to receive them. No rocket science needed, at a minimum just one eye focusing toward the target. Why is it then that so much of the stuff ends up on the floor and all over the sides of the urinal? I have no proof but I daresay that some blokes purposely angle the stream such that they achieve optimum splashback. Maybe there is a secret society I am not a member of. All I know is I am tired of standing in the waste of others while making a donation of my own. By the way, I am anal about the angle of flight thing. Different shaped urinals call for different angles of attack and I know how to achieve a splashbackless visit!

So while enjoying the experience of being forced to stand in, on, or near urine, I also get the dubious pleasure of staring at nose giblets mined from the nostrils of these lads with the misguided weapon systems. Why in the name of all that is good in this world would someone feel compelled to relieve themselves of foreign nasal objects right there while they should be more focused on flow direction. I'm starting to see a connection here. Now I understand that all humans are susceptible to foreign objects cropping up in the nose. I'm no exception. I do however feel there should be a removal protocol that doesn't involve multitasking at the urinal. Someone please tell me if I'm wrong here. The 30 seconds or so it takes to relieve oneself should not subject the individual to glaring at the nasal waste of the previous customers.

Now on to the last of my gripes de toilet. Why in heaven's name do individuals perform he-hoo breathing while releasing the hounds? I must have missed that day in class too! Maybe it's just because there are a lot of middle aged fat guys on my floor at work who use the same restroom as I do so I am hypersensitive to this phenomenon. I've noticed that most of them breathe like they are running, in labor, or having relations. I have checked myself and I do not do this. I employ the stealth mode at work where if you couldn't see my feet you would have no idea I was even in the next stall. I don't announce my presence by creating a vocal wind tunnel of funk to add to the wonderful aroma of the place. I just sit, shit, and hit the bricks.

My aim (haha) is not to offend anyone here. I just marvel sometimes at how humans behave; especially at work. Hopefully my job will get more interesting soon so I can put my mind toward something more worthwhile. If not, I'll find something else to complain about.....guaranteed!

The fabric that feels good.

Saturday morning was beautiful. My wife and I took her son Matt up to a local school so he could participate in a running event. The entry fee for participation was 4 cans of food for needy people. I watched these young elementary school students and their families enthusiastically participate and support this great cause. The smiles and cheers were many as these young runners put one foot in front of the other, from start to finish, willingly and happily.

In one of the half-mile races, this young boy with Down Syndrome was struggling and ended up walking far behind the rest of the pack. As he approached a point in the course where he was closer to the masses, his face lit up and he started to trot, then a jog, then he was running! As he passed by me and I saw his smile and the love and support he was receiving from people he didn't know, I soaked it all in and was very grateful to be there in that moment. That event had fabric.

Yesterday morning was beautiful as well. My wife, step-son and step-daughter arose and headed out to downtown DC. I have been wanting to get my lazy butt back in shape so I signed up to run in the inaugural 5K run to support the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial Fund (http://www.nleomf.com/). As all of the runners stood in a cool breeze waiting for the start, an officer from the DC Metropolitan Police Department beautifully sang the National Anthem. I looked up at the standard of this great country and reflected on the many selfless sacrifices made by willing Americans to make yesterday possible. It was easy to pay tribute to them with a little time, sweat, and effort.

As I took off at the start I felt pretty good. I watched my step-son and step-daughter launch like two bullets.......I knew that would be the last time I saw them until the finish. They are both in great shape and quite good runners. I started losing steam fast. I have been somewhat inactive of late and traveling a lot. Not an excuse, just my reality. I tried to stay focused on running to honor those fallen warriors who paid the ultimate price in service to their communities and our nation. As I struggled up a hill on the south side of the U. S. Capitol a thought occurred to me. The discomfort and pain I felt at that very moment paled in comparison to the probable fear experienced by many of those great Americans when they realized that their tour of duty was over. It was a humbling experience.......an experience that had fabric.

With the busy weekend drawing to a close I settled in back at home Sunday evening, tired and ready for bed. I turned on the tube to check on some football scores. I guess it was fate that I hit CBS just as 60 Minutes was coming on. Their opening story took the viewers to a remote corner of eastern Afghanistan (http://www.cbsnews.com/video/watch/?id=4531399). These guys are in the thick of the fight, existing each day where most Americans would never venture. They voluntarily do what has to be done so we can spend weekends with our families; cheering, running, honoring, living. More fabric.

I was spent. Between the two runs, a wonderful orchestra concert watching my daughter perform beautifully, and a soccer victory for Matt's team, I had nothing left to give. I had taken in much from the weekend and reflected extensively on what made it all possible. Sometimes we forget to stop and really embrace these moments we are given. They don't come to us because we are deserving. They come to us because we are blessed. All that is good has a price and many have paid on our behalf.

Our nation's fabric is its communities, its children, its servants, its families. Without these we would cease to exist. Without these we would have nothing to fight for. Take the time to look around, appreciate what you have, get involved, share the burden of responsibility for keeping this country the best on the planet. To do anything less is to be ungrateful, and dishonor those who have done and continue to do so much.