A tale of two mothers.

30 1846 July 2006


I hope that Cindy Sheehan sees this and chokes on her own hunger strike. (If you looked at the link you'll be glad to know that only 65 families have shamed their son or daughters sacrifice with such an affiliation.) Below are pictures taken of an Hummer H3 with a custom paint job to honor the sacrifice of the driver's son, a Marine killed in Iraq. Compare her actions with “the peace mom” who continues to rant a rave. (My favorite part of this link is that it points out he RE-ENLISTED just to go to Iraq, her boy WANTED to serve.) Cindy, get a clue! (From a 13 year old.) Go get something eat and quit your crazy antics.

For Karla Comfort, having the vehicle air brushed with the image of the 10 Marines was a way to pay homage to her hero and his fellow comrades who fell on Iraq's urban battlefield.

"I wanted to let people know (Marines) are doing their jobs honorably, and some of them die," said the 39-year-old from Portland, OR "I don't want people to forget the sacrifices that my son and the other Marines made."

Pictures of the Hummer H3
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2
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4
5



Comfort 1
Sheehan 0
Who's son will be bragging about his mother tonight in Valhalla?

Don't Squat With Yer Spurs On

Let me start this off by saying sewing is not my forte. I only use my sewing skills in emergency situations.
List of sewing experiences:
Sewing punk rock patches on my clothes.
Sewing a few things in basic training so that we could “acquire” the “skill”
Flash back: “IT’S NOT ROCKET SURGERY PEOPLE PUT THE THREAD IN THE NEEDLE AND THEN SEW!” Thank you Petty Officer Liner.

Anyway here are the pictures of my pants. I only included the pair that was the worst. All three of my pants were torn in a similar fashion.

My Mom still cleans my room.

My Mom still cleans my room!

My Mom was curious about what my living quarters looked like. Instead of e-mailing a huge document to her I thought it would be easier to post it here. So if you are curious this s my hooch (Army speak for one person tent.) inside what we call a B-Hut. The B-hut is approx. 40 feet long and about 16 feet wide. It holds 8 of us. We divided it up with our pancho liners so that we would have a little privacy.

Punk Rock Reference song:
My Mom Still Cleans My Room MxPx

What I missed about Tulsa today: My Little Girl

Hey, Little Girl will turn 5 next year, right.



By Melinda Fulmer
Karin Urban wanted to pull out all the stops for her daughter Sabrina's fifth birthday party. Knowing that her daughter loved horses, the Westlake Village, Calif., stay-at-home mom brought in two ponies to a local park last May, hired a magician and rented a merry-go-round and a pony-themed bounce house. A local caterer brought in food for almost 150 people, and a professional photographer snapped pictures of the event.
The cost? $6,000.

Recently I got to see pictures of my daughter's birthday. It looks like I missed out on a swinging time! This morning I got to talk to her on the computer phone and she sounded really happy telling me about this and that.


http://articles.moneycentral.msn.com/CollegeAndFamily/RaiseKids/KidsPartiesatSpareNoExpensePrices.aspx

New Pictures

larger version of me on one tree hill
larger version of me shooting
a patch of grass in the nation of Tajikistan that looks like Oklahoma
Me and a machine gun with ammo

Interesting articles/blogs
http://vdare.com/sailer/060716_diversity.htm

Well thought out and good intel.

http://www.antiwar.com/justin/?articleid=9314

Seems a little brash, and I cannot abide with all that he says...
but for better or worse you might enjoy what they have to say.

How is Afghanistan?

Half my friends (2) have asked "How is Afghanistan?"

I have got to see a little of the country side and a little of the city. I have only talked to a few of the people though. I am left with the impression that Afghanistan might be a great place one day.

I often ask people how long they think the U.S. should stay. There are varying time frames from 5 years to "...I hope that America is in Afghanistan like they are in Korea, for a long time."

Before I left the 'States we recieved a real flowery brief from a UN representative about how great the ANA (Afghan National Army) is performing, and how they are ahead of schedule. I don't know what the time line is but...maybe it would be unprofessional of me to say that in an open forum. I have operated with some of the ANA and they do try very hard...cultural differences and how would you say.....ummm...tactics make it hard to equate them to what I thought the UN guy was calling "great" and "ahead of schedule."

The weather is interesting; the night time lows are about half the day time highs so it FEELS extreme even though it is not really THAT bad.

Just about every day there is a dust-nado. Named so because it looks like a tiny, little tornado of dust. One night on a vehicle patrol one blew through a gap in the wall to the astonishment of everyone in the truck.

There are some really neat looking ants all around. I call them Dune Buggy Ants on account of their real long legs. They look like a regular ant with a supreme lift kit!

We live pretty comfortably, and soon I will have internet in my own hooch!!!!

Other than that you will have to ask more specific questions.

I wish this thing had a spell check. I am too lazy to cut and paste it to a word.doc.

What I missed about Tulsa today: The Pink Commander

16 1826 July 2006

Every Xday of the week we get a special meal. Surf and Turf. I don't like "surf" food all that much, and I am pretty picky when it comes to my "turf" too. The fact remains we use this meal on that particular day of the week to gather together and count down our remaing time.

The last time we were served this meal something about it reminded me of how long it has been since I took my sweet heart out on a date, and the conversation only reminded me of how long it would be before I could take her out again.

Also I have become situationally disoriented considering the location of my sewing kit. She has everything in it's place and a place for EVERYTHING. Right down the needle, thread, and the little contraption that helps me pull the thread through the eye of the needle. If I was home I know right where I could find all the things I would need to sew up the gaping hole in the apex of my inseam...quit an inconvienent place for a hole wouldn't you say. Yeah and all three of my pants are like that.

SO RIGHT OF THE TOP MY WIFE IS AWESOME. Irreplaceable. Wonderful. Second to none. And I miss her very much.


THEN she posted so much sweetness in my direction yesterday on her BLOG.
and today (yes, her greatness can continue) she e-mailed me a boat load of Chuck Norris Facts!!!! How could I not love her?

Forget Wikipedia, if Chuck Norris wants you know something, he will tell you.

Chuck Norris’ tears cure cancer. But he has never cried. Ever.

Chuck Norris does not sleep. He waits.

Chuck Norris is currently suing NBC, claiming Law and Order are trademarked names for his left and right legs.

The chief export of Chuck Norris is pain.

If you can see Chuck Norris, he can see you. If you can’t see Chuck Norris, you may be only seconds away from death.

Chuck Norris has counted to infinity. Twice.

Chuck Norris does not hunt because the word hunting infers the probability of failure. Chuck Norris goes killing.

Chuck Norris doesn’t wash his clothes, he disembowels them.
In fine print on the last page of the Guinness Book of World Records it notes that all world records are held by Chuck Norris, and those listed in the book are simply the closest anyone else has ever gotten.

There is no chin behind Chuck Norris’ beard. There is only another fist.

The Great Wall of China was originally created to keep Chuck Norris out. It failed misserably.

There is no theory of evolution, just a list of creatures Chuck Norris allows to live.

Chuck Norris is the only man to ever defeat a brick wall in a game of tennis.

When Chuck Norris sends in his taxes, he sends blank forms and includes only a picture of himself, crouched and ready to attack. Chuck Norris has not had to pay taxes ever.

A Handicap parking sign does not signify that this spot is for handicapped people. It is actually in fact a warning, that the spot belongs to Chuck Norris and that you will be handicapped if you park there.

Chuck Norris will attain statehood in 2009. His state flower will be the Magnolia.

Chuck Norris originally appeared in the “Street Fighter II” video game, but was removed by Beta Testers because every button caused him to do a roundhouse kick. When asked bout this “glitch,” Norris replied, “That’s no glitch.”

Chuck Norris once shot down a German fighter plane with his finger, by yelling, “Bang!”

Chuck Norris has two speeds: Walk and Kill.

Someone once tried to tell Chuck Norris that roundhouse kicks aren’t the best way to kick someone. This has been recorded by historians as the worst mistake anyone has ever made.

Contrary to popular belief, America is not a democracy, it is a Chucktatorship.

Chuck Norris is the only human being to display the Heisenberg uncertainty principle — you can never know both exactly where and how quickly he will roundhouse-kick you in the face.

Chuck Norris can drink an entire gallon of milk in forty-seven seconds.

Time waits for no man. Unless that man is Chuck Norris.

The Chuck Norris military unit was not used in the game Civilization 4, because a single Chuck Norris could defeat the entire combined nations of the world in one turn.

In an average living room there are 1,242 objects Chuck Norris could use to kill you, including the room itself.

Chuck Norris can touch MC Hammer.

Chuck Norris doesn’t read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.

How could I not love her!

What I missed about Tulsa Today: Movie night with Jenni and Jeremy

09 1458 July 2006


Audacity (n) Boldness, Imprudence
Carpe Diem seize the day

Recently I saw two of my favorite movies. Patton, and Dead Poets Society. The two struck me in unique...Ways like never before.

Patton. General Patton is often referred to as pious and profane. (Unique combination huH, "Hubby of Super Mom".) During his life and since his death he is both hated and hailed. One photo I saw of him had the caption "madman, monster, military genius." He was harsh on his soldiers to drive them on, he thought that if they feared his wrath they would fight the Germans harder in order to escape him. History shows that he was right on, because on more than one occasion soldiers that belonged to his command fought and won in spite of being out numbered and out gunned. Gen. Patton had three rules for war: Audacity, Audacity, and Audacity. Gen. Patton moved his troops across France and Germany in nearly unbearable winter conditions and attacked. He attacked across rivers in broad daylight, often the surprise of his attacks caught the enemy so off guard that they were still in bed. He thought out of the box and often shrugged off the rules in order to accomplish his vision (or mission depending on your perception on him).

Dead Poet's Society. To know me now you might be surprised to know how influential this movie was on my teen years. I used to watch it at least once a month. Last night I was really pleased to look up from my dinner and see "Knoxious" and "Newanda" on the big screen in the DFAC (Dining Facility). The story is about a group of boys at a prepatory school with a little urging of their instructor discover the wonder of anti-conformity. When encouraging his class to follow their dreams Mr. Keating (the instructor) taught them the Latin Phrase "carpe diem". Seize the Day. Blessed with a new mantra one of the boys breaks ranks with his father and family to perform in a play, while another stirs up controversey in the school paper over sensitive issues.

What is different this time?(D.P.S.) I have always thought that the point of the Dead Poet's was to shirk rules and obligations and live in each moment. Sneaking out, drinking, smoking, writing rebellious prose, and wooing women! Maybe at times in my life I have been a little nihilistic. (Translation: I used to be nihilistic.) But this time I see so much for than anarchy in "Carpe Diem." Capitalizing on opportunity need not be about breaking rules. (P) Risk vs. Gain. (capitalizing on opportunity....risk versus gain....jeez Daddyman is this about finances or spirituality. Settle down you I am getting there.) In planning any operation Army leaders at all levels must analyze if the risk of the operation worth the gain in battlefield landscape or intelligence. If an American life is lost because of his actions will the result honor the other man's sacrifice. Many say that Gen. Patton skipped this step and only thought of the glory that would be added to his name as he racked up his victories; others claim that the war in Europe would have lasted many YEARS longer had it not been for General Patton. The lesson I initially gained from
Patton was his leadership style, I thought that his harshness was necessary to gain Gen. Patton's boldness. Last night something of a more spiritual notion struck me about these two movies.

Now I could narrate the events of Patton, and D.P.S. I can nearly quote like the Pink Commander can quote The Princess Bride so for something new to come out of these movies is a little surprising. Audacity, I thought how great an adjective it becomes. He is audacious. One of the most profound, life changing/equipping things I have ever heard Kyle said one of the first times my family went to New Heights. "Jesus was a revolutionary, Jesus is a revolutionary." Kyle went on to talk about Jesus as my mind began to wander off considering how expensive it would be to make t-shirts with Jesus drawn up to look like Chi Gueverra and write his words JESUS IS A REVOLUTIONARY around the picture. Maybe top if off with a red star left of the portrait with AK-47's crossed inside the center of the star. Regardless of the fact that I might have adult onset attention deficit dis...what was I talking about? ...Oh yeah... Jesus' methods were audacious. He was bold, when it came time for action Jesus took the lead. Unashamed if he had to turn over a few tables or ruffle the feathers of the religious elites Jesus called a spade a spade. Now Jesus never threatened soldiers in the hospital with a pearl handled revolver but non-the-less he was audacious. "Seize the day boys, make your lives extraordinary." Mr. Keating encouraged. After reading Witman, Thoreau, and Shakespeare the Dead Poets could have learned a thing or two about extraordinary lives in the pages of the New Testament. Jesus seized every opportunity to do his Father's work....

Armed with this I venture out into my surroundings. Will I have the audacity to seize the day in this new light? Soldiers are an interesting breed of Christians. Most will claim an affillitation to the cross, but not so many would carry the burden...which is another blog another time.

Pray for me.

What I Missed about Tulsa Today: The Geekmobile.

05 1706 July 2006


Jeremy Eat your Heart Out

(WARNING IF YOU DID NOT GROW UP IN MY CIRCLE OF FRIENDS YOU MAY HAVE TROUBLE FOLLOWING THE CAST OF CHARACTERS THIS STORY TELLS ABOUT AND THE EVENTS MAY SEEM FAR FETCHED.)

Attached is a video of a drive down an Afghan avenue know as J-Bad (an abbreviation for Jalabad, a city in Afghanistan) road. Don't watch the video yet. Let me first set the stage, with a trip down memory lane.

One of my best friends growing up was Jeremy. We met in the 8th grade while intensely competing for last chair in the saxophone section of our band. I don't know who the teacher hated more me or Jeremy. Regardless our friendship continued and Jeremy eventually got a car. Oh yeah! If wheels could talk..(Never mind it's better that they don't they would probably just complain.)..it was a no so stylish late 80's model Honda Civic. No not one of those flashy, hip Civics that you might have seen in the "Fast and Furious" movies; Jeremy's Civic was a dark red four door, four cylinder family car with an automatic transmission. Like any teenager with a hint of self respect Jeremy quickly replaced the stock tape deck with an amped up CD player. I am certain had any industrial safety officer inspected the vehicle he would have quickly slapped up a "Hearing Protection Required During All Operations" sign at every entrance of the vehicle. So the car was not much to look at...That's all right, put punk rock stickers all over it. There now it's cool. The car was dubbed the Geek Mobile. Everyone of his friends loved it. Not because of the apocalypse sound it emitted as soon a CD was agreed upon, or it's fashionable decorations but because riding with Jeremy is an experience I am sure NOBODY has forgotten. I can't remember all the car chases/races we were involved in while cruising around Tulsa in the Geekmobile but they were many and fantastic! To help set the stage for your video trip down J-Bad road I will recall some of them for you.

71st and Sheridan was a common scene of mischief. We were crossing through the intersection, windows down of course....let me back up this is 1998 when the traffic project was not complete. The road literally went from four lanes each direction to one lane each direction (Or one to four if you were heading east but we were heading west...4 into 1 even a high schooler knew that was stupid...who thinks up crap like that?). This time, honestly, we were in the right! Actually we were in the left! Right of way - left lane. This car load of women started pulling into us as if we were not even there. Now, as I said our windows were down, they usually were because we ordinarily rode on the door reaching in to hang onto the "Oh SHIT Bar." (I don't know why they took those out of cars, they are life savers...trust me.) Eric was up front, Jeremy driving, and me in the back...I don't recall anyone else in the car. So these (how to be politically correct?) heavy African descended women were pulling directly into our lane leaving us nothing to do but bound over the curb and into oncoming traffic; not an option when in such a cool ride. Eric, thinking quickly, reached through his open window politely knocked on the widow of the other vehicle and to the shock of all the occupants flew the bird less that a foot away from the drivers face! It was awesome. They quickly slowed down and got out of our lane.

This is especially irritating to a teenage boy. Have you ever got behind one of these drivers who treats an entrance ramp like it's any other boulevard? One time Jeremy and I were hopping onto 169 from 61st Street. Now I distinctly remember my driver's education teacher saying not to pass on the right. I don't remember whether or not I was specifically told by my driver's education teacher not to pass on an entrance ramp or if, maybe, it was just implied. But my recollection of those rules is irrelevant because Jeremy was driving and I was hanging out the window as we started to pass this other vehicle on the right side while traveling up the on ramp towards 169. As we cruised by I noticed the two boys (in the other car) from school. The rider, who was probably being influenced by some MTV rapper, showed some kind of gang sign with his fingers (I think it was a Crip sign). (I have never belonged to any gang, although some might of considered my circle of friends a gang, and later on we {my circle of friends} came across the Union Public Schools definition of a gang and we fit it like a glove.) But I did know one hand sign, the bird, so in absence of any better hand sign I flew it! That got their attention. As I climbed back into the car I told Jeremy he might want to speed up (more). (Now I don't want to give you the impression we were cowards and would pick a fight then run....it's just that for us running is where the fun was at. If anyone had ever caught us we would have stood our ground and fought, we just never got caught.) The Honda Civic is pegged at 120 miles per hour. But it starts to rattling like all hell is about to break loose at about 90 miles per hour. Of course on a steady dose of adrenaline you get when in a car chase and the 120 decibels of punk rock music blaring you hardly notice the car rattling until you hit 110 mark. Another problem with going that fast is traffic instantly becomes "congested". The "gang bangers" pursued us for a few miles then exited. The Geekmobile was ready for a break anyway, we watched for several seconds the needle of the speed-o was stuck on 120. The car and our heart beats settled down to a regular rhythm. Classic.

I can't tell all the geek mobile stories. You are probably not interested in the staged fight on 71st and Memorial, comments of my other class mates, trying to play cards on top of the car while in motion, Jeremy driving the car over the front end of a minivan (insurance judged it was not his fault), or the time I nearly punched out the front window. Besides the Geekmobile was not a loner. Eric and I spun 180 degrees on I-44 in his mom's T-Bird. Rob drove the Skeelow on many a fateful night. James commanded a V-8 El Camino that he and I had to use to run from the cops after turning right from a left hand only turn lane. (Yeah we got away, duh.) Josh and Eric both had cars but were a little more conservative. Although I have seen both drive with one rollerblade on and the other foot without inbetween places where we would skate. And there are stories others can tell about me behind the wheel, like the time I made it to owes from Mid-Town in 15 minutes. Laura and I once switched from driver to passenger while the Tamale, a red Ford Escort, was set on cruise control well above highway speed. I nearly killed myself and my cousin P.D. twice in less than a quarter mile while passing other vehicles. We were doing about 80 down Mingo between 41st and 31st Streets. My Dad promised he would never ride with me again after riding with me to my wedding, I was late. Alas the trip down memory lane must end.

Onto the video you say! Let us see Afghanistan. OK-OK As the opening moments of the video portray there are not only no traffic laws but there are no police to enforce any of the laws that don't exist. Further there are no requirements/prerequisite to be able to hop behind the wheel and take any automobile out for a spin. Yep, you name it wanna drive a diesel with a trailer (if you could hear them you would understand the title "Jingle Truck"), a motorcycle, a car, a donkey cart just go right ahead. I have commanded, drove, and rode in vehicles here and I must say the experience surpasses even my most hair raising car trips back home. For the record I am not driving or in either of these vehicles. And, also for the record, my driving has improved...A little.

Recently we were scooting along weaving not only in and out of traffic but on and off the road, one of my riders looked at me and commented how relaxed I seemed. "Yeah," I said, "This is what it was like driving when I was growing up." He laughed because he thought I was kidding.

**my appologies, but I think you may have to have a "myspace" account to view the videos, if you do I am really sorry, maybe you'll go and set one up..or just enjoy the blog.**


Enjoy the video

Punk Rock reference song(s):
"Bitchin' Camero" The Dead Milkmen
"Another State of Mind" Social Distortion

Update...Update: Now I can add walking J-bad at night to my list of top ten more nerve racking experiences.

What I Missed About Tulsa Today: East Gate Barber Shop

22 1131 June 2006



With the exception of the very early years, a couple of my teenage years (when my hair didn't get cut) and the time I spent in the Navy most of my haircuts have come from East Gate Barber Shop. The fella's there have been as reliable as the sunrise in the East.

This morning I got my hair cut at the AAFES barber shop here on post. It was a strange thing.

On the surface it looks like any other barber shop: a red, white and blue barber pole spun outside the door (even though it was inside another building) chairs, mirrors, seats for those waiting, a table with assorted magazines, even the familiar hum of electric clippers. But there was something amiss...

There were women cutting hair (but even East Gate has had a female barber or two, I can see past that) and I knew it would have been too much to see barbers like my regular barbers quietly chatting over current events, sipping coffee, reading a newspaper, or joking with the patrons. Still something was strangely askew. These women only acknowledged my presence to ask me what type of hair cut I would like. After explaining my favorite style (short on the top and very short on the sides) she asked, "Skin?" pointing to the side of my head.
"Yes," I said with a smile trying to overcome the gap of unfamiliarity with kindness.
"And the top?" she asked coldly as if talking to a cowhide hung on the wall in a museum.
"About a quarter," I said (referring to length in the same manner I always do at East Gate) I responded.
Then she shot a series terse sounding sentences back and forth to one of the other "barbers" in a foreign language that I couldn't even recognize. The women looked Asian but sounded Russian, curious I thought...

Again maybe I expected too much when I thought there would be some degree of small talk as she cut my hair; where are you from? How long have you been here?...No she cut my hair and jibber jabbered with her co-worker and occasionally coughed a petite cough like one heard in movies when some "rich gentle-woman" character thinks something impolite has been said at a formal setting.

Then she came to one my cowlicks ( the one in the back...my favorite part of someone cutting my hair for the first time). She clearly struggled! She looked away from my head to her co-worker pointing with one finger to my head, talking, and rotating the clippers this direction and that. Trying to be friendly I offered, "It's kinda crazy to cut that curl huH?" She briefly looking up she coughed that tiny cough (again) and continued making puzzling looks at the back of my head. She switched clippers. Struggled some and then switched back to the previous set of clippers.

I don't really know why but I began to grow increasingly uncomfortable with this situation. The longer I sat there in silence listening to music and chatter I could not understand the more uncomfortable I became. The women (is it that I am a sexist chauvinist pig??) had absolutely emotionless faces (xenophobic much??) as they spoke. I was left with no other conclusion than to think they were speaking ill of me (am I a paranoid/conspiracy theorist??).

Probably yes to all three.

I paid an left but could not get the awkward uncomfortable feeling off my mind. Why did it bug me so much I don't know. Would it have bugged if the same thing happened in the States, again, I don't know.

I think I just might be better off at East Gate.