My best friend

Long known as man's best friend, the dog as a symbol enjoys a high role in our society. I for one love dogs, but I don't go so far as to give the dog a full name - with the last name matching my own. I don't think my dog is one of my children, or even a person for that matter.

But a dog can be part of the family.

This particular dog I speak of was taken out of the pound in Salinas Ca, virtually hours from "the end". No one wanted to claim the stray who had been picked up by the doggie police and brought to the pound. He was a mutt, homely in his own special way, tiny, and not much of a pooch at first glance. But my son, 3 years old at the time and wanting a dog, picked this guy out.
He then gave him the very unmasculine [and somewhat embarrassing] name "Pinky". What can I say? The kid was 3, and that's what he wanted to call him.

Pinky was afraid of me for the first few months, giving me and my wife a clue as to why he was a runaway...we speculated that he had been beaten by some a-hole, and it was probably an adult male. We came to this conclusion as we started to see this little not-so-good-looking guy possessed enormous intelligence, and we figured one day he got hit too hard or perhaps too many times, and he bolted. That's what a smart dog would do, don't you agree?

In time, he and I forged a great friendship, one I never thought I'd have with an animal. He was with me all the time, loved to take un-leashed walks with me in a field next to our home, and was always there for me or the kids. He seemed to love children, and was warm and friendly with all adults. Another "smart" reference: In 1996, I had surgery on my right wrist. He used to lick my cast - at first my hard cast, then the soft cast, and eventually my wrist itself - in the exact spot that the surgery had been done. Through the cast, he knew something was wrong.

In 1997, he drove across country with me after I retired from the Army, enduring the heat and misery of a cross-country drive through the various deserts of the southwest and the steamy southeast in August. In 2000 I had my first stroke, and again he sensed something wasn't right and he stayed close to me all those months I was still recuperating.

2 years ago we started to notice the change. He was getting older, his hind right leg shook from time to time, and the winter cool of Central Florida became tougher to endure. Last year we noticed that his hearing of normal sounds was completely gone, and he could only respond to the concussion and noise of hands being slapped together loudly. His bladder control had become weak and sporadic, and he was closing in on 12 years with us, and probably 2 years before we picked him up that day in California.

Last night, I came home from work and my wife said he hadn't eaten, drunk any water, or moved from his brand new doggie bed he had received for Christmas a couple of days before. When I came home, he got out of his bed and peed on the floor, so my wife yelled about it and I hurriedly let him outside to go. He was wobbly and appeared disoriented. He fell twice outside, and once inside in front of my wife. Much to my surprise, I was very upset at this development, and spent most of the night trying to get him stretched out and walking better. I took him outside for two walks, which became two "carry's", and brought him inside an laid him on my bed. Twice during the night I woke up and he looked at me, as if to say "Still here big guy". In the morning, I picked him up and put him in his bed and went to work. He seemed to have little or no interest in food or water still, but perhaps he's just feeling sick and all will be ok in a couple of days. He could be in pain; could have arthritis; any number of things could and probably are wrong with him, but he can't tell me. I've considered taking him to a vet, but most are not open this week. There is no way I'm leaving him at a vet...no way in hell. He's been a part of the scene for so long now, I would never leave him to wait out his final days - if indeed were are in his final days - in loneliness. If he passes, he passes in the place he knows with the people he has loved who share that love right back at him.

Yeah, I said love...and yeah, I'm talking about a dog. Hang in there my friend.

Loneliness personified

Cold, he did the acrobatic dance in his sleeping bag, a skill he had become quite adept at over the past few years. Getting dressed - head to toe - all the while zipped up against the chill of the 3 am desert sometimes caused cramps in his back and arms, but they always went away after he snapped his body into a different position.

"Jesus", he thought to himself. Another guard shift on another night on another tour. "What number is this?", he thought to himself as he silently pulled his rifle last out of his sleeping bag. For those unfamiliar, one sleeps with their rifle when it may be needed at a moment's notice. Uncomfortable in there? No, not really. Quite comforting, to be honest.

"How many guard shifts?"..."Shit"..."How many tours?"

He trudges out and is surprised he can see his breath in the moonless sky. He quietly approaches the post, and his counterpart whispers a word...he responds with the password, and they silently exchange handshakes and make the eye contact that only those who have been there understand:

"I'm tired, you're tired, we're tired...but that is irrelevant. I was here for you and now you'll be here for me".

His fellow guardian crouches low and disappears in the darkness, intent on finding his own sleeping bag and warming it up. As he slides into the small hole surrounded by a low wall of sandbags, his thoughts turn to the fact that another Christmas has passed without a tree, turkey, or even a can of beer and a ballgame. The other day he was reading on line - he thankfully (or possibly not) - has internet access at the HQ tent; in any case, he was reading and he was rather dismayed at what he saw.

Post-Thanksgiving shopping excursions mania. Something about a new Playstation commanding thousands on E-Bay. A state Senator has a stroke or an embolism, and all anyone on either side can talk about is the balance of power in Congress. A woman forces a city council to spend money on attorney fees to stop her from putting up 5 billboards in a major city telling children Santa isn't real. She quotes her first amendment rights. Our man in the hole can't help but note the only people who talk relentlessly about their freedom of speech are the people who want to do something stupid with it.

He wonders if anyone really gives a shit any more that he is here. Gone is the patriotism of 2001 through 2003, replaced with disappointment at bungled policy and a frighteningly false sense of security. "Words", he chuckles silently to himself. "We're going to solve this problem with words". He shakes his head slowly as he scans the broad horizon in his night vision goggles.

Patting his rifle he whispers, "I got your words right here".

Of kindness...Christmas...and such things

I don't know the specifics of the story, flight number etc., but I do know on Sunday the 24th, a flight was going from NYC to Chicago. In the terminal in New York were two soldiers who had been delayed in their flight from Iraq, and they were desperate to get home to see their families.

Upon checking in at the United terminal, the clerk took it upon herself to upgrade the soldiers to first class, as there were a few seats open. When the plane landed, one of the flight attendants announced over the speaker system that the soldiers were on the plane, and the attendant asked if everyone could please remain seated for an extra 30 seconds to a minute so the soldiers could de-plane first and meet their families in the terminal.

The first thing that happened was the non-stop clapping and cheering as reported by several of the passengers on the flight. The second thing was - now get this, America - the passengers actually did as requested, and allowed the soldiers to debark first.

Been on a plane in say - the last 20 years? If you ever want a concrete example of "Ugly, rude, American's", take a ride on a plane and just watch as they all try to get off first, pushing and shoving old ladies and children out of the way. But not this time, evidently. Everyone either sat and cheered or stood and cheered, and no one tried to force his or her way forward. Even those with connecting flights.

Maybe...just maybe...there is hope for us yet.

Maybe.

A Christmas Gift

My daughter is all grown up.

A few weeks ago, she came over to my house to visit. After she left, she called me and said something about Sports Illustrated magazine, to which I responded with my customary "Whah?"

This morning, December 25th, 2006 she came over to the house with her husband and my granddaughter. We exchanged presents while I played with my 6 and a half month old granddaughter, making stupid sounds and acting as if I had completely forgotten how to speak normal adult English. You know how that goes.

She handed me a gift...actually a scroll with a ribbon on it. Everyone in the family joked about how I had just graduated from somewhere. I opened up the scroll, and inside was a Rick Reilly article from Sports Illustrated and a Certificate.

Here is the article, and you have to read it to understand the story: http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2006/writers/Rick_Reilly/11/27/reilly1204/index.html

You know, you go through life as a parent and you try your damnedest to teach values to your kids. Most of the time you stand around scratching your head because they can't keep their room clean for more than 24 hours, and you wonder if you can't get the clean your room message through, then how in the world are you ever going to get the important stuff across?

The certificate read in part that a donation to the "Nothing But Nets" foundation to fight malaria in Africa had been made in the name of my family by my daughter, who - apparently while I wasn't looking - had become quite the special adult.

My daughter is all grown up now, and what a nice Christmas gift to have received - confirmation.

Merry Christmas everyone. Please count your blessings.

www.nothingbutnets.net

Ahhhh yes....of course.

Updated: 1 hour, 35 minutes ago

WASHINGTON - The size of your gut may be partly shaped by which microbes call it home, according to new research linking obesity to types of digestive bacteria.

Both obese mice — and people — had more of one type of bacteria and less of another kind, according to two studies published Thursday in the journal Nature.

A “microbial component” appears to contribute to obesity, said study lead author Jeffrey Gordon, director of Washington University’s Center for Genome Sciences.

Also mildly considered as possible causes of obesity were the following:

• Seconds on top of seconds with the mashed potatoes
• Carrying a napkin everywhere because a good boy scout is "always prepared"
• 24 piece KFC buckets, and asking the person who joined you, "are you eating too?"
• Dining at a Denny's and ordering "Page 3".
• Being the captain of the EA Sports Madden Football team
• A file cabinet at work that has no files in it because the donut stash is in there
• A recently discovered "microbial metallic component" in your hand known as a fork

Eating all the time has also been loosely linked to obesity, but so far no one in the medical establishment has confirmed this to be concrete fact.

How dumb can we get? The U.S. versus....the U.S.???

A question was posed recently on local access T.V. to the President of the County School Board.

Why can't we teach and demand from our students to stand quietly for the National Anthem or anything patriotic in the classroom?

The answer by the School Board Prez was short and direct: "Because if we do mandate such behavior, someone will be in my office within 24 hours with their attorney."

Now, not that I doubt the validity of the answer - because I know it's true - I 'm still confused. The right to freedom of speech, freedom of movement, freedom of the press, freedom to do damn near whatever you want is granted by our Government in the Bill of Rights and the Constitution.

Sooooo - bear with me here - the very foundation that these freedom's are based upon is used by American's against those same foundations. Do I have this correct? The right to disobey or dishonor is guaranteed, and we American's don't have to give anything in return, and if someone asks you to give a little back, you use the same documents to defend why you don't have to do what is asked? Yes, I do think I have this correct.

And I'm always hearing that the politicians are corrupt and screwed up, and we the people are the only ones trying to do the right thing?

Been to a ballgame lately? How about a school?

The stupidity of stupidness

Today on MSN.com

These are the mini headlines on msn.com at this very moment, 11 Dec 2006 10:21 am…In the order they appear.

Palestinian leaders' children gunned down (by Hammas)

Radiation linked to Russian Spy

Iran hosts anti-holocaust conference

Bush (not President Bush, by the way) resumes Iraq strategy review


But FIRST on the list is a story about Barak Obama campaigning in New Hampshire for the 2008 election.

Hello MSN? If you don’t pay attention to the other 4 stories first and foremost, their isn’t going to be a country to have an election in 2008, or don't you know that?

Good Lord, when a dumbass like myself has to tell the so-called intellectual elite what the real deal is, how the hell are we ever going to get down to solving our myriad problems in the world?

Dear Santa,

What I want for Ch------- this year is for my fellow American citizens to get a clue. I've been good {well...sort of}

JL4

Dear JL4,

I'm Santa...not David Blaine or Houdini.

Mr. C

Baby, that ladder's high

Cleek on dee peenk leenk above...den come back heeeer and read

I really can't stay - Baby it's cold outside
I've got to go away - Baby it's cold outside
This evening has been - Been hoping that you'd drop in
So very nice - I'll hold your hands, they're just like ice

The ladder was perched precariously on the uneven lawn. Only a wooden 8-footer, probably 10 years old at least, the last place I wanted to be last night - last 43 degrees with the wind blowing in Orlando night - was up on that ladder. But as fate would have it, everyone was ill Thanksgiving Weekend, I had to fly to a wedding this past weekend, so last night was it. Officially known around my house as "Dad's yearly brush with electrocution death and broken bones".

My mother will start to worry - Beautiful, what's your hurry?
My father will be pacing the floor - Listen to the fireplace roar
So really I'd better scurry - Beautiful, please don't hurry well
Maybe just a half a drink more - Put some music on while I pour

Ever try this? You stand on the top step of the 8-foot ladder - that's correct, the one that says "NOT A STEP" - and holding a 1 inch thick tree branch for faux stability, you use your other hand to try and "lasso-throw" the end of the first string of red lights to adorn the 21 foot high tree. Now keep in mind it's dark out and the strings of lights are all together and plugged in so I can see how high they are being thrown and how they look on the tree. And baby, it damn sure is cold outside.

The neighbors might think - Baby, it's bad out there
Say, what's in this drink - No cabs to be had out there
I wish I knew how - Your eyes are like starlight now
To break this spell - I'll take your hat, your hair looks swell

Balancing with my left, I sling the first string up - but it doesn't go nearly as high as I need. My next door neighbor pulls up and reminds me to use caution on the ladder, to which I reply, "Does it look to you like I'm using even 1% caution?" His silence was answer enough for me. The second lasso-try was effective, getting the whole thing started. As I continued to hang onto the branch, the invevitable started to happen.

I ought to say no, no, no, sir - Mind if I move a little closer?
At least I'm gonna say that I tried - What's the sense in hurting my pride?
I really can't stay - Baby don't hold out
Ahh, but it's cold outside

The ladder started to sway under my feet, and I of course counter-swayed - the grip on the brach getting tighter. In what seemed like an eternity, but couldn't have been more than a second, it swayed - I counter swayed - it swayed more - and I counter plummeted. In keeping with the spirit of the season, I did in fact say the words "Jesus Christ" just before both feet hit the ground, my upper torso violently dropping down to meet the knees of my lower torso at the exact center of my mouth, and then I ended up on my back - looking around to ensure no neighbors or family saw this spastic version of Lawn Ornament Cirque Du Soliel. The animatronic reindeer was peering at me from about 10 feet away, and I swear the bastard was smirking. I tasted blood.

I simply must go - Baby, it's cold outside
The answer is no - Ooh baby, it's cold outside
This welcome has been - I'm lucky that you dropped in
So nice and warm - Look out the window at that storm

My sister will be suspicious - Man, your lips look so delicious
My brother will be there at the door - Waves upon a tropical shore
My maiden aunt's mind is vicious - Gosh your lips look delicious
Well maybe just a half a cigarette more - Never such a blizzard before

Once more up the ladder from a second angle, and I had the friggin' thing started. I got smart and realized if I stretch the strings away from the tree by walking as far as the string will allow me to, I could more easily lasso-throw the strings around the tree in a circular motion. After 15 minutes or so, I had the first tree done. It didn't look fabulous - didn't look bad - but it wasn't going to be changed.

I've got to go home - Oh, baby, you'll freeze out there
Say, lend me your comb - It's up to your knees out there
You've really been grand - Your eyes are like starlight now
But don't you see - How can you do this thing to me

You know when you pull the lights out of the box every December? They're all in there tangled up and confused. You plug each of them in to test them, and off you go. Tree number two was lower, smaller, and looked for all intents and purposes like a cake-walk. As I was lasso-ing the first strand up - this time ony up to the 2nd to last step on the ladder - I was just about to let the strand go when BZZZT... At first I wasn't sure what happened, until the dog started licking my face. Evidently I had no recollection of falling, and shaking myself off, I headed back up the ladder.

I didn't get far.

As I was two steps up, I stopped to garner a bunch of the beginning string in my hand, and BZZZT...It happened again. This time I knew what it was because I could clearly smell my fried nostril hairs.

There's bound to be talk tomorrow - Making my life long sorrow
At least there will be plenty implied - If you caught pneumonia and died
I really can't stay - Get over that old out
Ahh, but it's cooooold ouuuuuuut---siiiiide

As I drank my hot chocolate...the dog sitting at my feet making faces like he was smelling something strange, I admired my work of yet another year. Tree 1 was soft red in color, tree 2 soft blue. The bushes and shrubs surrounding the front of the house were adorned in a classy soft white. No twinkling, no on and off "eat at Joe's" lights here. Just dignified and simple...simple in style, that is.

Merry Ch-------

Oh brother...what a bother

Doesn't bother me...does it bother you...?

To remove your shoes, belt, and outer coat at Airport Security?

To have a passport to go on cruises now?

That we have secret jails in Europe to house terrorists?

We do electronic surveillance on people who have the goal of hurting us?

That sometimes the answers given to questions is, "because". Sometimes, that is the appropriate answer whether you like it or not.

That we haven't had a President with military experience for 14 years...times change, and it is ok.

Placing my kids in public schools.


Does bother me...how about you?

Illegal immigrants commit 13 murders a day and 12 drunk driving deaths a day in this country.

That African-American relations in this country have gone back to their 1960's attitudes again. Suddenly the victim complex is alive and well again, and apparently there is no end to this thing.

That people think only of themselves in terms of national security, and make petty arguments about being inconvenienced at the airport, et al.

That too many American's feel they are entitled to know the what's and why's of governmental actions and policies.

That September 11th 2001 has become the event many families used to become wealthy; has become some sort of symbol of what is wrong with our country; and has been completely forgotten/ignored as the day some maniacal assholes made history.

That a US Senator from Massachusetts still thinks it is 1966, and he can't figure out how to get beyond that.

That people think it's the responsibility of the schools to raise and discipline their children.

You have - of course - just taken the Conservative/Liberal questionaire. Your answers are your own but I feel the need to tell you - Governmental mind readers have already documented your feelings, and your information is being stored in a vault in a secret mountain in Virgina.

Along with samples from your last blood and urine tests.

By the way - June Hyphen-Hyphen-Hyphen-Smith of Chukamunga, North Dakota? You're pregnant again.

Surrender...Part II

The entire country needs to know the following story. Pass it on to any friends you may have who don't know this tale.

In December of 1944, the German's made what amounted to their final desperate push to try and stem the tide of the war in their favor. General Eisenhower sent the 101st Airborne Division in to secure the town of Bastogne. What ensued is forever etched in history as "The Battle of the Bulge".

The 101st was completely surrounded by 6 Panzer tank divisions, was a 100,000 man force with just rifles and a small amount of mortars, both useless against Panzer tanks. The forest where the 101st was encircled was called the Ardennes, and the snow was a foot deep and the temperatures hovered around 20 degrees. They had no winter clothing, no winter boots, and soon had no ammunition. Air drops with supplies could not get through because of the weather.

Hopeless, desperate, hungry, freezing, and dying by the dozens in hourly artillery attacks, the 101st commander, Major General Anthony McAliffe, was delivered a written request for surrender by the German commander. General McAliffe immediately sent the German Commander a reply, in writing as well.

"NUTS" is what he said.

When delivered to the Germans by an American Colonel named Harper, the German's asked what "nuts" meant. Colonel Harper calmly explained it was an American's way of saying "Go to hell". The German's once again asked Col. Harper for his surrender, and Harper said, "If you insist on your foolish attack, we will be forced to kill all of you." He then went back to his headquarters, leaving a stunned and silent German delegation behind.

Post Script

The 101st held Bastogne, and eventually went on the attack themselves - still armed with only rifles, but a fresh load of ammunition had finally gotten through the drop zone. 19,000 men died in that forest. An additional 48,000 suffered loss of limb, blindness, deafness, and any of a dozen different afflictions from the artillery and the cold.

But they never surrendered.

Yesterday, the Iraq commission recommended what basically amounts to a surrender to Iraqi insurgents who we're actually not losing to. What would General McAliffe and his brave men say to James Baker, Sandra Day O'Connor, Leon Panetta, and the others on the panel if they were here today? I do believe they just might say....


"NUTS"

Tagged

Sean, at http://macme.blogspot.com/ tagged me.

This is the deal: "According to the rules, each player of this game starts with the title "Six Weird Things About Me." People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own six weird things and state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose six people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says, 'You are tagged!' in their comments and tell them to read your blog!"

I don't have 6 people that read my lame blog, so I can only tag 2. In any case, here are my six weird things about me.

1) I have some sort of bionic nose. I can smell things that no one can smell. This is not a pleasant trait, as you may well have figured out. I can tell if a woman is experiencing that "time of the month", or if someone forgot to use deodorant, etc. Here is the worst part. What can you do with this "skill"? That's correct...nothing. No one wants a drug-sniffing man, that's a job for dogs. What do you say in an interview? Can I type? Pretty well, but just wait until you see me sniff! Methinks that won't go over well.

2) I have a thing for women in glasses or those who look like a "mom". You can have Britney Spears; give me Patricia Richardson from "Home Improvement" or Talia Shire from the original "Rocky" any day of the week.

3) I lie to myself every single day. I like to envision myself as an open-minded moderate, then I go back the following day and read what I've written and realize what a hard-ass conservative I really am. So I learn from this, right? Nope. I still think I'm a moderate.

4) I am uncomfortable in large crowds; uncomfortable at parties. But put me in an environment with only 2 or 3 people, I'm as outrageous and forthcoming as anyone. Put me in a large group setting, and you'll never know I'm there.

5) I actually like some songs by Barry Manilow and Michael Bolton, and I have them on my MP3. Jeesh! Did I just admit to that?

6) I forgot 6. If I see a lampshade crooked...no matter who's home it is in...I have to straighten it. I've tried to ignore this, but I can't tell you how many times I've risen out of bed because I knew the shade in the living room was tilted...I know, I know...OCD

Okay...I'm tagging http://leasaann.blogspot.com/ and http://www.blogger.com/profile/21817830

These are the only ones besides Sean who read my crap.

Surrender

Apparently James Baker, Sandra Day O'Connor and the others on the Iraq commission have decided to surrender. Strange...I thought one only surrendered when defeat was imminent, but apparently this is where we are as a country. We don't fight to win anymore...we capitulate because the home-front has lost the nerve to stick it out, and we now take unexplained comfort in words like "Diplomacy" and "Dialog" when we know deep down inside our enemy scoffs at such terms, and looks upon us as weak and without the resolve to defeat them.

With that, I offer this poem to my brothers and sisters in arms...who died and will continue to die...for something they believed in - but evidently not enough back home did.

You are forever now - and will always be - my heroes (I think I read that in a book once). God bless you, and may He take mercy on America's soul for the inevitable attacks that will be fueled by this.

We thought of you with love today,
But that is nothing new.

We thought about you yesterday,
And days before that too.

We think of you in silence,
We often speak your name.

Now all we have are memories,
And your picture in a frame.

Your memory is our keepsake,
With which we'll never part.

God has you in His keeping,
We have you in our Heart.

You lived your life with honor,
We backed you just the same.

But now the time has come to pass,
May God forgive our shame.

Why they do it

Why suicide bombers do what they do:

No Football, no Baseball, no Christmas, no holidays at all, no birthday parties, no right to vote, no freedom of speech, no Big Mac's, no pork, no Baked Lay's, no game boy's, no ball caps, no toys, no shaving for him, no shaving for her, no faces shown, wives are chosen for you, husbands are chosen for a woman's indentured servitude, rags for clothes, towels for hats, no poetry, no literature, no tv, no music, no family picnics, no high school reunions, no high schools, no job satisfaction, no jobs, endless poverty, no house, no home, no dog, no cat, no computers, no cell phones, no writing (except for Koran verses), no reading (except for Koran verses), no affection, no love allowed (except for Allah), no religious choice, no choice of anything.

And they're told when they die, a happy life will begin for them.

Any questions? I didn't think so.

NYC

NYC has passed a law banning trans fat's in the chain restaurants in the city. No longer can McDonald's, Burger King, et al use the synthetic fat substitute. Studies have shown that trans fat's can cause heart problems and obesity.

Ohhhhhhh....I get it now. All those people who were going into McDonald's and Wendy's because they were diet conscious are now going to benefit greatly from the ban.

Alrighty-dighty everybody. Diet Big Mac's around the horn...and don't spare the fries!