Contact! Hello, Mom!

I printed out a letter for my mother today, and tonight she contacted me on Skype.com , which is really nice free video realtime conversations. Perfect for my wife and mother to talk to each other, and I love talking to my absent son when he is in exotic locations working for the NAVY. Yeah, I know, I don't do cellphones but I like to talk on Skype.com - the most I ever say in a year to my brother seems to be on Skype.com - he is a talker not a writer.

My mother is a writer, a weekly letter for years to everyone, and all her poetry, but she is more alone and although she wants to read my blog she is a bit timid in finding it - although my brother set it up as the default on her Safari, she just doesn't use Safari enough to find it. She writes and she reads Email, and will, use the Skype.com but the next step to Safari isn't in her ability. I guess we, my mother, wife and I, will become extinct because we didn't adapt to changing technology - although my wife is on the telephone with her family in Korea, and we have heard from our son in Hawaii tonight (I didn't since I was hosting my mother on the computer in the Computer Cave). It has been a wonderful Sunday, contact with those far away and so close in our hearts, email from my sister and shooting at the range after church - life is good.

Is it the end yet? well of the work week, and

I had heard good things about Obama, from my son and a nephew during the primaries - they were looking for a change in government leadership and he sounded so good - I never found the time to listen, but I thought he was sincere and could be an improvement. I have really given up on Washington, DC, I do think the money men own the elected representatives of the people, not that some of them aren't worth owning, they do work hard but for whom? Until he decided he knew me and what my problem was:

As Obama put it: "(T)hey get bitter, they cling to guns or religion or antipathy to people who aren't like them or anti-immigrant sentiment or anti-trade sentiment as a way to explain their frustrations

Well, I guess I identify with the gun clinging, religious folks - especially on motorcycles (just kidding about that). But I didn't have any love of McCain, except he was a Vietnam Vet, didn't come home early either. But as a politician he was tainted by DC, and his gun carrying isn't as good as I want so I was almost going to sit this election out. Oh, I would have voted - we have important local races to run and see if King County can manufacture votes again like they did last time - I am a real person and I only vote once per election, honest! But I was out of interest in the Presidential run off, I just didn't think the Republicans looked that different from the Democrats - suits cost about the same, haircuts too costly and the perks and paybacks are on both sides of the aisle. Kind of reminds me of my send off to a departing Battalion Commander - he was on his way to the Pentagon, would get promoted and start looking for that star, but I shook his hand and shook my head, when you get to Washington the only soldiers you are going to see are in Arlington or called in to march in a parade - everyone else in uniform is in politics.

Well, Senator McCain, I have to thank you for your great decision, Governor Palin, one of those bitter gun clinging, religious folk - and she doesn't put up with fools, nor corruption (even in her own party!). She doesn't deserve to be punished by living in Washington, DC. Isn't it time we centered the Capital again? To save fuel and increase Maryland's tax base, of course.

I surely do love fearless women.

Wrapping up, a day off yesterday...

The coffee stop went well, learned where the highway money is going, it will be better in October and that will be a good thing. Gave out lots of coffee and cookies, free maps and directions to avoid ending up in Seattle (the Emerald City - with its Wizard and horse of a different color). Exchanged view points and snide remarks and fool comments with Hal, he postponed a dental appointment for a permanent crown to spend four hours laughing with me. What are friends for?

After I went to bail out my Caravan, it wasn't ready - I didn't leave a cell phone number for them to get my okay on a part, sigh, telling them to fix it doesn't mean the same to them and I. We went to look at computers for Hal and I to see what Office Depot had that I needed - it had a two pack of 2MG memory cards for my camera - I can take tons of pictures now, if I would only slow down to read the instructions. Like most products I own today - it can do so much more than I can use effectively - when do we fall back into the dark ages? Anytime soon? Before they find out what kind a fool I am, please. Hal didn't find a computer he wanted, nor did he find those coin holders for mailing off to relatives, and I need a Pennsylvania, Tennessee, Illinois and Alabama quarter - for all the quarters I find, none of those yet. I guess I saw the Pennsylvania one years ago but not since we started filling that silly book.

I got my Caravan and Hal went off to better things, I stopped at two gun stores. Handled, looked closely at and discussed the M1A Scout with black stock and ten round magazine - which I think is the perfect size, having years of carrying and shooting the M14, I do not like the twenty round magazine at all. "In the way" was the nicest thing I could say about it in polite company. They only wanted $1400 + cash price, and $1500 + for charge card (plus 9% sales tax) and do you want ammunition with that? Focus, Earl, you are going to get an M1 Garand from CMP and you can buy the best and ammunition for the price of that plastic and steel from Springfield Armory... the new Springfield Armory.

Then the second store looks like it does much less retail and much more re-sale and small scale (I have purchased weapons in both stores and like the service and the weapons so that isn't a thing I worry about). They had a pretty nice on the wall Argentine Mauser from the 19th Century - just too pretty until they allowed me to look closely at it and play with it, and they couldn't find their bore light although they did come up with a flash light - sad, certainly not worth the $235 they wanted, I would have only purchased it to try and save it, was pretty in the darkness of the bar and the fog of the fumes and the buzz from the vodka... that only happened when I was really young -- don't do the dark and the drink and no more picking up in the darkness.

So I am off on another wild shopping expedition, find me a Doughboy hat for shooting with. I really do need one, the way I was with the Drill Sergeant hat I will need that natural flop in front and back so I can shoot straighter - you have heard that clothes make the man... five more years of more fun than I deserve, one major event per month and start working on that procrastination pile. Okay, move some rifles tonight - you want to look at them anyway...

Lovely things to check out and make sure they still work, and fit and haven't left me in impatience with my lack of attention. Soon, very soon, time to get them out for their health and my happiness. Soon.

I just can't do it all, not to the level I should...

When I mentioned my girl friend and wife in the same sentence, it must have bothered some people, but if I can keep my girl friend and wife in the same person it shouldn't bother anyone but her. I only have to remember half as many special days and buy half as many perfect gifts to goo over if there is only one. Women are awesome as girl friends, great as wives and special as mothers of our children, but then lose it a bit when they shift from mothering departing son to smothering present husband (I know what is stupid and dangerous and wasteful and habit forming and unhealthy - honest! I have a mother and she told me all that before and drove me out to find a girl friend so I could do all that stuff without being reminded), THANKS, MOM!

There is a post at Tam's that talks to Appleseed and two points of view, one from a participant, Breda, and one from a professional frowner PDB (I couldn't leave my comment there so left it at Tam's place, I am so incompetent).

Anyway, Breda's experience reminded me that I was going to get back to spending more time and effort in my rifle marksmanship. So I look into getting a Garand, and decide to go CMP and get one from them - lower cost and it will shoot better than a sixty year old deserves and I can pretend my father, that used one in WWII, would approve my purchase and shooting it. Although, he tried to bring an M1 Carbine home, but left it in an Amnesty Box when he returned to the United States and sanity. I still have his pistol belt and bayonet from that time and era, and the Japanese military saber he brought back. Trade it all in for the return of my father, but then that last trip is one way.

Coffee stop today, if anyone were driving north on I-5 at the Scattercreek Rest Stop, from 10am to 2pm, I will be there or be square - which I always was and will ever be. Amen.

My sister sends a story to share...

The Story of the Sign and it should be shared. Take care out there and enjoy your days.

Ignore the idea that I am a joiner, but I wander and wonder...

I went to Lacey to meet the group and was a little early, that is the kind of guy I am. Had some coffee and talked a bit while others came in and had breakfast then we went outside to gather and get pictures and go - kick stands up at 9 AM (not close). There was a HOG gathering mass - over thirty bikes, trikes and a couple trailers getting ready to move out. Cell phones and text messaging were used to find our missing riders, I would learn many strange habits people using those little thing have developed. On the highway and hitting it hard, group stays together well and the day is perfect for riding. Still everyone catches up in Kelso, and then riding through town and traffic lights breaks apart - some going the Northern side of the Columbia and main group in Oregon on the South. Federal Highway, Route 30, the western end of the Lincoln Highway, only important for anyone that knows where I grew up, on the southern side of the Loyalhanna Creek just south of Route 30 as it goes through Chestnut Ridge in Pennsylvania. (Way too much information, Earl!)

The ride was great, Trusty was up to the fastest and best (if his rider would just pay attention and hold formation), the scenery awesome but in group rides one really looks at formation and dangerous automobiles with weird and wired driving habits. We turned down on Highway 101 for the follow the coast fun. We stopped for lunch and fuel in Cannon Beach, the group broke in two parts, and then re-joined and broke apart immediately again, sigh. Happens when a lot of independent bikers get together. Finally, rejoining on the road and riding into Lincoln City, splitting immediately to find our lodging (I had none and got lucky about where I stopped and who with). I got a room, took hot shower, and fell asleep on the bed watching some hunting channel. I missed the two calls on the room phone, but did get up to the insistent knock on my door, grabbed my gear except for the key to the motorcycle, went back for it and rode to the Casino for buffet supper - I had called my wife and left message before falling asleep. Priorities.

I am not one for gambling unless it is that totally honest rip-off called the State Lottery, so I watched a little Black Jack and sad people at the slots, saw some others of our group and then went back to my room to resume the sleep and see the tape delayed NBC Olympic coverage - no Canadian Broadcasting in Oregon? Sleep with a strange dream about building collapsing, old library school buildings that should have never been neglected, message there? I wake at six, and it is time to go - check the weather (rain rolling in later in the day) and pack out and get back on Trusty Triumph and depart this town... I am riding alone, wanting to get back and surprise my girl friend and my wife. So from 7:30 to 1230 I was on Highway 18 or Interstate 5 going back to home country, and we were burning up some fuel, passing speeders like they were standing still (yep, you know I am old and slow but I can still tell a story).

Oregon has two Aviation Museums, one in Tillamook and one in Sheridan, the latter looks really spiffy and top notch, and there were planes in the sky as I went by. The Oregon forest is wonderful, I love trees that reach each other across the road (growing up in wild Pennsylvania would do that) and in Oregon they also have those firs that stand tall and scratch clouds drifting by. There are lots of great roads to ride your bike at its limits (and the law's) and for hiking, biking (pedal power!) they are very accommodating. Remember that Oregon has all the hippies that succeeded in living as they preached, and the state is people friendly and comfortable to wrap around one's self. It is Summer (sometimes) and the beaches were crowded and the children and adults were having the best time, didn't hear anyone talk about the Election or the Olympics - these folks have a real life. As I flew up 99N and got on I-5 in Portland I thought about the old skateboarder - hope he was skating somewhere, or in church (it is Sunday).

Well, I had about run out of fuel and food, so I stopped at a MacDonalds south of Chehalis (you can't say that properly if you aren't from the Great Northwest - no, not MacDonalds, Chehalis!) and had some breakfast wrapped and a large Hot Black coffee to wrap my hands around - I don't care if it is seventy outside, wind chill at seventy to seventy-five is cold and penetrating. I take my time watch the people moving along up the highway, stopping for food and space (cars are so small when packed with stuff and people). I go get topped off with Shell and am roaring back up the highway and home. No longer going to surprise my girl friend, only my wife could love the man I am - I checked myself out in the mirror at MacDonalds - grizzled, gritty and grandpapt! One teenager helping me fill up in Oregon (they do that there) thought I was cool on a motorcycle but I was still fresh from coffee and shower and hadn't accumulated much road ravage. Looking at my helmet when I got home I know I need a second full face one - the number of hard knocks that thing took in my defense that left marks I don't want on my face - amazing.

Home, wife went to early church so she opened the door for me, welcomed me and fixed my lunch and I can unwind (how does that become a long "i" sound anyway?), download the pictures and check on Kevin and Tam in a Gunslinger's Disneyland East... but only to see they are still having fun, Breda knows how to shoot rifle better now, but isn't talking about why it hurts, yet. She probably needed a couple of Drill Sergeants and a couple of weeks of other stuff before the rifle marksmanship training (but I am just showing my age or orientation).

I lost my AMA handkerchief, that was tied around my neck, but loosened and then blew off in some violent passage of wind, caused by my violent passage through the air at ground level as I sped homeward, I will get a replacement. I did find out that people sitting at the same table will text message jokes (they can store them) to each other while at the table (without disturbing the other diners). I am so never going to get a PDA or Cellphone extraordinary - not when two nice ladies were at the same table. Priorities!

Well, I am off...

Motorcycling from home to somewhere in Lincoln City, Oregon. Will take good thoughts, short prayers and my wife's concerns for my safe return - the load is light, the weather is right and the day may be bright. Sunglasses, sleeping bag, Zippo, knives, and typing about it isn't getting me anywhere. Signing off.

Just thinking about this great gun debate...

I have enjoyed reading about the pistols, Colts, S&W, Glock, and others - love passion exposed. But I have been a bit uncomfortable with the 2nd Amendment Right nonsense - about the people being armed so the government will respond to them. That doesn't work for me, in a country where the longer movies are almost three hours, somehow the people start to expect that rebellion would last a couple months max... one season and we will have their attention. Never happen, it would never happen that fast and never will it be easy.

First, Rebellion is the last thing intelligent people want, sane ones certainly. I think I can talk and vote the fools out of office and work to do good things daily with the people around me.

If there were, for some terrible reason, a complete collapse of good government and responsible adult citizens then I know what I would be doing. Not picking up the rifle and a couple of bullets, and my favorite pistol - they would be with me already. Nope, I would be looking for people that I can join and go get some artillery and rounds - 105mm or 155mm, some anti-tank stuff, some tanks, I am with Ethan Allen and the Green Mountain Boys, the enemy would have more weapons than warriors, go get the weapons. See, the 2nd Amendment isn't about WAR, it is about defending the Free State - if the politicians stole it away, get better politicians and re-establish it.

The other thing that has made me uncomfortable about the Gun Thing is the ease some people talk about shooting other people, even practicing fast draws and multiple targets and various situations - which are great fun, aren't reality. Nice people don't go looking to shoot other people, crazy people go looking to shoot other people, nice people use gun control to make sure only a crazy person dies by their well aimed shots.

There is a war on, I have visited other battlefields, and remember how fickle America and its media are with wars that are dangerous and can't sell many products as a REALITY show. So I will give you a link to that war, mostly under-reported for many reasons. 173rd in Afghanistan. I can read their story, and figure out how I would have tried to do it, had I been there - but I am not but their story and talking to them about how they fight off a larger enemy force - well armed, well led, and insistent on winning a to the death struggle. And I can try to make sure they have real support for their efforts, no fun to fight alone and unwanted.

Yeah, the Great Gun Rights debate is pretty much meaningless to me - like I am a cowboy hero that will save the day - or some super anti-hero killing fifty drug dealers daily - it isn't going to happen except in Hollywood, and the ladies and laddies there seem to have screws and morals loose, they can't cut it in real life unless they are special and away from California. You want combat effectiveness? You teach your children to cooperate, to be brave, to learn, to pay the price for victory -- and you can't buy that, you can pay in support but you can't buy victory in war. Nope, costs a whole lot of love to achieve victory in battle and it makes me sad to see that America is going to listen to the media; who say the Economy is key to the Presidential election. My vote will go to the leader that understands War, its importance. I also know that only the value of the dollar is controlled in Washington DC, the economy is built on the backs of the people engaged in commerce.

Sorry, I am rambling, while watched taped delay NBC Olympic coverage - sorry, no Gun Debate here - every citizen has the Right to keep and bear a weapon, with it the responsibility to defend the Free State (is your state really free?).

Got to go, seems they want to inspect my worst...

At the prison, they are preparing for the ACA accreditation, and they dropped in on Tuesday, and sent me my list of problems on Wednesday, and will be back to see what I have done about correcting them today. Never enough time, and I continue to have my full days working a real library -- but I tore through much of the clutter my last hour yesterday, and full bins of recycled paper departed, now I need some organization and cleaning up by the inmate clerks and the list of my problems should be shorter, or more detailed with longer to make it much better.

The flurry of my activity reminded me that I have to gear up for a major quest, in the Computer Cave, hidden under paper piles of procrastination may be plunder and plenty of pennies to roll. I need to address all that clutter and mess at home. I also need to get the motorcycle in tomorrow for a new front rotor, headlight rim and rear taillight assembly (why does my wife with her fool husband worry about how the ride looks?). I also have to finish the draft of the WALE presentation for October, practice presentation to ILS Quarterly meeting on 11 or 12 September. Keepin' ya busy, huh? Well, my thoughts go with Tam, she gets to go gunnin' with some of the pros (there are other pros out there but it will be cool - she will be anyway - where isn't). Got to close for a bit, bye!

You have been selected by...

I have received my summons: Jury Summons, You have been selected for Jury Duty! Official Court Document -- Do Not Discard

Yep, on the 15th of September, 2008 Year of Our Lord, I will be reporting to the Courthouse for Jury Duty. Should I carry a pistol so I can lock it up as I go through the disarming process at the entry? No, I shouldn't make bother, take some good books to read while waiting and see what they have for me to do in Judgment and Justice - I will do my best.

Where was I? well, on the other side of disconneted

I was up a bit early and running through the mornings tasks, wanting to be a better me, concentrating. I have coffee and measurements are done, going to devotions and I turn on the computer, just a check of a favorite blogger - that looks like what I read yesterday! Must be sleeping in, hmm. So needing to feed my desires, check blogger number two, well that isn't new either - refresh the screen - that was quick and the same thing.... now I am starting to panic - I had just checked them before bed - only five hours ago -- they don't owe me time and postings just because I woke a little early. Don't you hate it when there isn't anything new? After the sixth blogger checked I am in a whirl, I need to get a grip and then the screen goes mostly white with a message about being disconnected from the internet.

It was time for devotions, connect the modem, go read the Bible and pray, the internet fix is on the way... so when does an addict admit he has a problem? Never if he wants to wallow in his addiction.

So I go back and find, some of the bloggers haven't posted anything new since I checked on the other side of my sleep, sigh. See above, but then a couple have and I wander the thoughts placed on screen - theirs to mine - and leave a note about how I thought about hunting, and it isn't like the other comments but then different is worth leaving tracks to prove one passed by...

Never enough time, or I am way too slow...

Watching the Women's 800 this morning, and sure enough if I had started with them they would have finished before I got to the 250 mark. Still I do love the women that do things fearlessly. Then I caught the Russian Pole Vaulter! Talk about fearless, after brushing the bar twice at a possible new World Record (5.05 m), she went for a third and Prayed (talking to herself and God, no one else could answer) as she applied sticky and did the vault flawlessly - at least in her mind. Then she flew down to the pit, placed the pole and sprang to the ceiling and cleared - and her smile came back as she relaxed on the way down to that cushion. Lovely thing being fearless, and Wyatt is on vacation or she would have been the Olympic Hottie of the day (I know she is above all that - but some men are so shallow) - and when she smiles I almost wish I were young and foolish and single - but I am only foolish. Inspired I went out for the morning jog - between rains squalls with lightning. It was a good morning and I was inspired and cranked on pumping my arms with the hand weights and dreaming, then I got by the Greyhound Rescue Ranch, and I had lots of running buddies - they would bark joyfully and start running along the fence with me and then look back when they realized my speed was stall, sputter and stall, sputter and stroll. Such a slug, but they are beautiful when they stretch out and leap into the distance and future, if I ever get a dog it isn't going to be a sight hunter - I would need a horse to keep up, and I don't do horses. Good day to be alive, isn't it? Wife recommends no motorcycle in the squalls, sigh, don't you just wish she weren't so often right? Nah, I remember when she was all the fearless I could handle, and I am not sure I ever did. Got to go, disconnect, turn off computer and join the taxpaying public...

Life is Good, this is America after all...

I picked up my Triumph from the dealer, he talked to me about all my bike's problems and he was really talking about my problems. Two major things needed fixed after that accident last August, I will replace the one part on Thursday to make the repair complete. If you have an accident, and you can get back on the motorcycle and ride it home that is amazing - but really, take it to the shop and have it completely gone over, and maybe you should go to a doctor sooner than I did - or not. BUT do take care of your ride so it can take care of you. My wife wants the scrapes on the head light fixed, she has her pride in my ride and I have been avoiding it - although I do think a little headlight visor would be cool.

I do like my motorcycle, and a brief glimpse of the riders in Europe speeding around the track tell me they are so much better riders than I on motorcycles so much faster than mine - but then I don't have to go as fast as my motorcycle will go - rumor has it that I might be going faster than the police and state troopers would like, sometimes - probably an accident of joy. And as much as I am smiling while riding - I am not going to do a long wheelie in victory after getting the flag - not that I would expect to be first, I do think the bike would like two wheel contact with surface. No, I don't do wheelies, too old or too smart about my abilities.

Now there are people that think only certain products are cool, worthy of note, the best in the world - they normally think one certain race, music, nation or language is the ONE also - but that is so limiting. Having lived in a few other countries, my mother and my wife being born and raised in other ones, I get to know that there are wonderful people that live elsewhere, speak a different language and see God and America so differently than I, but I am comfortable with that knowledge. An example of brand fan foolishness:

Wilson Combat Hunter is a fine, best of its kind weapon, and although someone says it shoots one inch groups at thirty yards - which I am willing to believe - I know that I don't shoot one inch groups at thirty yards. My personal Colt .45 does just fine, it shoots well and I shoot better because of it - but I may miss because of eye quiver, shaky hands, or that beautiful woman is really looking hard at me and my wife is watching my reaction. Now I like to shoot other weapons, I like to compete, gently, and I learn from my mistakes faster than I do from my successes.

I drive a Dodge Caravan, ride a Triumph America, live in a house that has three bedrooms, two baths, and no swimming pool nor home gym. I make just about enough to be comfortable in my life style - but then I don't go out and about much. But look, I own two cars, and the credit union is my partner in all this wealth - it is good to have television, cablevision, DVDs, videos, CDs and stereo FM for Jazz and Blues. Having lived periodically without it, I have flushing toilets, hot showers (lovely invention, hot water - you should try washing the sweat and dirt off after a day training with the ROK Army Rangers - in an almost icy cold stream - but then in Iraq I didn't have enough water to do more than shave daily and the dust descended and infiltrated every inch of body and clothing - sigh). I do think American life style is good, and for me good enough
is really fine. I own three working computers that I will never maximize use of before they come up with software and hardware - gee, whiz would you look at that! - that I don't need nor will take advantage of...

Think I will indulge in some salad and watch the games on Canadian Broadcasting a bit then go ride in the Summer.

Can't be too many women with .45s, never enough.

After the terrible shooting last time, and Faster! wasn't good enough I wanted some quality time on the range with my Colt, and took it. Of course there are other things in the world, and I have duties and responsibilities and my idea of fun isn't always the same as my wife's but I dropped her at the Elders' Day church picnic and promised to be back by lunch. And that gave me just enough quality time with my pistol for thirty rounds, two 8-round and two 7-round mags, with twenty rounds left for Faster! But time ran out - there is never enough when one gets older and your plate is full.

It was good shooting, or as I like to think, good enough, although when I was distracted and dropped the one round, I stopped, took a hard look and laughed. I need more practice they should never leave the black and I could get tighter although, no one would believe thirty rounds when they are really tight. I enjoyed the picnic and the Elders Games and the Summer afternoon in the Great Northwest - my cup runneth over.

I do note that Brigid, Tam and Breda all write better about shooting, but I just like people that engage in their passions fearlessly. Works for me, now what was that fool reason for gun control laws? Don't pay it no nevermind, it is a FOOL reason.

work email today........ a ripple rebounds...

Question: You look like a Drill Sergeant Dungey I knew at Fort Sill, Oklahoma in the summer of 1977, are you the same person? He was the best drill sergeant in A Battery, 2nd Training BN.

Reply: BIO LINK I don't know about best Drill Sergeant, I only won the Drill Sergeant of the Cycle once. But I did like that job.

Questioner: I was just a trainee then with the third platoon, across the street from your first platoon. Just wanted to let you know, you were a great inspiration to me and many of my fellow trainees back then. I remember how you took your platoon out on very long runs in the morning and then ran again with many of them in the evening. You were a great example and when I later became a Sergeant with the Third Armored Division in Germany, you were one of the role models I tried to model myself after. Just wanted to say thanks.

You should think about applying to be a Community Corrections Officer in the field or even a weapons instructor, you are extremely qualified for both positions.

Reply: I really did like that job, glad I worked for you. I am so old, but would love to be a weapons instructor, but there are a few others around, Library Keepers are in shorter supply.

I really did like that job, Drill Sergeant Oliver - future Houston Policeman, drag racer and Deputy Sheriff and my friend.

Seems I have just lost one computer...

I have lost the ability to connect with Blogger on one computer, so I can't post, read comments or start my security software - which seems to have been penetrated. I have disconnected it and will disconnect this one shortly. It must be those Chinese or Terrorists or fool Hackers that don't love me. The games play well on this computer.

Isn't technology without knowology just grand? Time for breakfast gruel and Olympic sports from Canadian Broadcasting on Cable, Later...

Who are we, really? Why compare and contrast?

I was spending too much time reading blogs and leaving my tracks - I am not funny but think I have an opinion and willing to share - way too willing. The subject was the best Western Movie and since video and DVD are here I own a bunch. So I spoke my mind and read the results a few times, my son blames me for ruining all his combat movies by pointing out the impossibility of the weapons, the techniques and gasoline explosions among other things - but he was younger then and I was still trying to teach him truth. But I noticed that the weapons being wrong held importance to the weapons experts, and since I don't like many Kevin Costner movies I have real trouble with Wyatt Earp - and my biggest fault finding with it was the corn field he was in at the beginning, that wasn't the kind of corn field that horses would have plowed, and seeded. And I am not an expert in most things so I could be wrong, I have been before.

As I thought later in the week I remember that Shane always seemed more like me than most of the other cowboy heroes. He was professional, he was polite, he would talk to children - straight out, he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty doing work - eager in some ways, he didn't offer his opinion unless asked and then quietly, he wasn't trying to do something unforgivable with the other fellows' women, he was willing to take some minor ribbing but would fight when it was needed - and didn't do it too badly, he was sad when his past and his skills were needed again, but went out to fight because that was what he did best, knowing all the time that he wouldn't be welcome back. I read the book years later - more than once, and recently got a young man to read it and talk about it. Yeah, when I was young and almost gone, I thought Rebel without a Cause, the Wild Ones, and Easyrider had something to do with me - but they didn't, just like I couldn't recognize myself in the Godfather, or Col Kurtz, or many others. I am just not too special and thinking now that I am just permanently broken (or molded) into me, faults and features.

But then I gave up trying to have movie characters or movie stars as my model heroes - I go for the story and the entertainment. When I look hard, the hero I see was my father, and I can never be what he was but it is something to model my better behavior after, and since he didn't share any weaknesses or faults I have only his best - telling me how to do something, expecting me to do better, telling me when I was way out of line and stupid, waiting patiently for me to wake up and fly right, being very proud when I did something really worthy and again letting me know it. Yep, I had all the cowboy heroes one would want, but Dad stood above them all. Kind of like Charles Bronson telling the Mexican boys that their fathers were brave for having a family and taking care of it, no matter what happened.

Looking at some magazines today, and thinking about how many words I am leaving behind, I will promise to cut down my comments and "Expert Opinion" - I am going to be me, and part of that is sad, no one really needs that and sharing that part never makes it smaller, not like laughter makes my heart bigger anyway...

My wife cares but I wasn't cheatin'...

Partnership was working yesterday, I sat in my Caravan reading a book waiting for the dealership to open so my motorcycle could get serviced -- so I could ride safely (mechanically anyway) to Lincoln City, Oregon. She cares enough to make me do it right, then she only has to worry about my riding style - since she figures I won't fall asleep on the motorcycle like I would in the automobile. So the owner rides up on his big Triumph Triple and gets out of his coveralls and helmet opens the doors and comes over to ask how I got the motorcycle down here - but I just smile and don't answer that one.

We go in and he gets the key for the bike and starts his computer and finds me listed twice for parts purchased before - foot pegs and sissy bar. So I tell him I want my next service completed, new brake pads all around, all the nuts and bolts tight and inspection for broken or breaking parts that would need replaced for safety. He asks about the scrape on the front fender and I tell him about the accident and to leave the scars, I earned them in my inexperience. While he totes up the order and looks and answers the telephone I walk around the showroom floor - it is a show room. I don't want any clothing saying Triumph on it - I like the company but am not going to be a brand fan and poster child. I find the new Triumph American, and look it over carefully, I know it has more cc, is fuel injected, and cast wheels. I see a larger tank but still clean styling, the one I am looking at is black, I talk to him about it and say that it was too bad he didn't have it in blue. He says he has one in the crate that is blue - I come back quickly that I haven't won the Lotto yet and I have my motorcycle (which I imagine he would take as a trade in). Ah, I have been caught lookin' at new shine, curves and attitude. As old as I am I am not beyond that lookin' and wondering and dreaming, but I remain true to Trusty... and that woman that got me and the bike there yesterday morning.

What makes your heart pump, baby?

I have been thinking about firearms, getting older and shaky. So I have been getting ready to move on to area weapons - Demolitions! Demo! Fire in the Hole! say it three times and light that fuse. I have an aversion to electrical detonators from personal experience and blood shed, of course I was younger then and I can handle it now - but don't have to like it.

Something great about making the Earth move, read all about the wonder. And if you get real good, the implosion booms are waiting... to hire you.

It's Sunday, time to join the rest of Cyberspaced...

Woke from military dreams, again, never really shake them, and with a real war, almost, in Georgia I could have flash backs. No, I was never that high speed and my favorite computer war games never get beyond Knights in armor, unless I play Civilization and then Nukes are critical and lots of Engineers to scrub clean whatever is left. According to the civilized fools, a Security Council action is needed. Veto power with Russia and a weak statement by the American President, that hasn't left China and the basketball games, are signals to Russia that Georgia isn't in our direct interests. We should be able to sell all of NATO a missile defense system now, or they will make separate accords with the Russian Bear, which still has claws, imagine that.

No Men's Breakfast at the Church this morning, I will go to church later. Since one of our better old men died and he doesn't call and the best cook went to another church the breakfast has fallen apart and away.

I set up the plan to go shoot FASTER! this afternoon, the new postal match. Next week back to rifles. I do want to see how I will do on time, although I don't think fast draw and fast shooting is key to my survival - I like cover and concealment best - then gun control - aimed shots on target. I was reading about someone wanting to shoot, but laundry and mowing awaited her - I understand but everything in its place - practice on a piano, with the flute or violin, will ensure great performances - and you can still wash the clothes, cut the grass and play with the cats when they are ready.

Well, time to hit the road on the motorcycle, which is scheduled for maintenance on Tuesday - in preparation of my long trip to Lincoln, Oregon in two weeks.

UPDATE! Breaking News!

It has been discovered that I just don't shoot well, FASTER! Back to basics, practice, practice and more practice. Lucky me that the other guys aren't practicing more than I am - or am I just very fortunate that I don't have to worry about bad guys because I work in a gun free zone? And I will never go shopping for Crocs, even if they came in Camo or Airborne match my beret colours. Never... is a long long time. Well, back to watching the Olympics out of the corner of my eye as a re-read The Road, trying to figure out where Charlize Theron is supposed to be in the story - she has to be the long gone mother/wife? Didn't see her the first read at all, civilization is all gone, who talks to their memories? Oh, I do, but lucky I have the internet, so I can talk to my self.



Worthy words from The Road, "People were always getting ready for tomorrow. I didnt believe in that. Tomorrow wasnt getting ready for them. It didnt even know they were there." by Cormac McCarthy.

PDT and take that from CBC to NBC...

The Great Northwest, my part of it, has the Opening Ceremonies from China - now! Thank you Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. But I must shave and go, my wife will stay and take notes, it is very Chinese - very large and the children with flag cute - did notice the perfect soldiers finishing the flag raising. Work calls.

Depression about my lack of discipline...

I am such a slug, and I turned on the computer again this morning (didn't last night and you didn't miss me, did you?) and I am behind again. But I have this monster to get off my back and onto the page.

In the mail I get an offer of ten days of trial of the World of WarCraft (now that is tempting - but I have played other games against those on-line warriors and would rather fight Germanic Barbarians with the Roman Legions - and you know how that worked out - only good in The Gladiator). I also got my chance to add to the millions of dollars supporting the Candidate Osama, sorry - Barack Obama and Dino Rossi. Both of them are saying it is time for a CHANGE! For those that aren't from the Great Northwest, Rossi is the Republican candidate for Governor. I also get an envelope from the AARP for Life Insurance Enrollment - but I hadn't asked for them, do plumbers knock on my door? Nope.

Anyway, back to my depression with my disappointing me - the sad lack of discipline and loss of control of my life. Clara Hart has some real things to feel bad about and needs encouragement and I have my little angst, mine is nothing but it is mine. But I was reading Bear on a Bicycle and his note struck me as part of my problem. I seem to be concentrating on my failures, instead of the positive things I do - like I did get out of bed this morning opened the blinds and have taken my medicines (which I start cutting in half again, every other day) and made the coffee. I left a positive message at a blog that I have enjoyed for years for the blogger. Sometimes we need a reminder that we mean something to the world - they seem to ignore my wishes so well. I was telling my program manager (yes, I am part of the programmed) that the stories we need to tell the Legislature are the ones about inmates that leave our libraries and become good citizens. But then good citizens don't get in the news too much, do they? And I guess if I were jailed with Martin Luther King, Jr. during his protests and struggle I might share that, but being just a thug and a bad one that was caught and punished for it - that doesn't get aired until you are sitting in the rocker at the old folks home. Well, this morning in the email was a letter with a name I didn't recognize and was about to be deleted - like I would ever answer the people needing my help with their new found wealth and banking troubles.

"Hey Earl.

I worked for you for a few years at MICC. (I was the black gentlemen in need of a serious haircut!!!! HAH!!) You may be hard pressed to remember me as I got out in 2001, and never went back. (I attached a couple pictures to help you remember). I changed my name. As crazy as this sounds, I was just having a big old belly laugh about some of the times I had in that library. The petty things some of the prisoners were overly concerned with. I wanted to thank you for a few things.

First.. thank you for treating everyone fairly. You treated all of us the same. Like human beings, despite whatever acts we may have been involved with. I was in prison for seven years and you were the ONLY staff who behaved in a consistently civilized manner. You also didn't take any crap and I respected you for it.

Thank you for George R.R. Martin... who proved to me that fantasy fiction did not have to be silly. Until meeting you I wouldn't read any fantasy (being convinced that they were all bad Dungeons and Dragons sessions run amuck). I have been married for four years. My wife loves George Martin now and I have shouted his praise whenever it was appropriate. You were someone I looked forward to talking to everyday. In a place that was... less than hospitable. I took our discussions on adult relationships to heart, and I searched very hard for my wonderful wife, and have tried to be the best husband in the world for her.

Keep up the good work. Some of us do become rehabilitated. I am a 1/3rd shareholder in a company that produces web sites. I am also the sole proprietor of my own music publishing company, which has actually got some big projects on board to make me some money. The books you helped me to get on inter-library loan gave me the knowledge to make a living. Thanks for al your effort. I usually was way over the limit in my number of borrowed books. I want you to know I read every single one. It wasn't a waste. Thanks.

(I read your home page after googling your name). I am proud to have learned a few things from you. You may be having a bigger impact on peoples lives than you know. Maybe next time I'm in Tacoma we can get a cup of tea (I don't drink alcohol at all) and you ca meet my wife and kids. I've told her all about you.. the one nice guy in a land of jackals.

The best to you and yours,"

Well, that fits what I was saying about my focus, and what the Institutional Libraries needed in support. Of all the things I got from the Soviet Union, you with the AK's and SKS's have your treasures I have mine - I got one piece of Tactical Doctrine, remember I was a serious warrior for years and I studied. But the piece I thought was worth keeping was "Exploit Success, forget about the rest" I'd give it to you in Russian - but I never learned that, just German & Korean - one really must be able to talk with one's allies. Focus on the positive and enlarge what is working well, and remember that although one can be replaced - there would still be the void of who you really are and that makes all the difference.

There will never be enough time, so plan a little bit...

Goal for my day, shoot the postal match for Sailorcurt, okay, it wasn't just for him. I had to fire my rifle and I wanted to fire it well. I also wanted to put discipline back into my day - start with medications, measure, coffee, devotions and breakfast and exercise -- without checking the blogs to find out if anyone missed me and if I could add my two bits worth (the dollar has really declined).
No, I didn't make it perfectly, temptation is terrible and I think I am suffering from Disoriented Hive Disorder, I really do pile too much on to a small plate and am surprised when it falls off...

Still, all I had to do was share a bit of banana and strawberry jelly on toast - talk to my wife, take her to the YMCA and drive off to the range and engage targets in serious measurement of my sharpshooting skills. I will relate that bad guys twenty yards from me had best have a large bullet proof vest - I was all over that target with the little 9mm, sigh. I always wanted to shoot the buttons off his vest, but it is velcro now isn't it? I gave up and went to the rifle firing area, put the target up, engaged to find my zero - yep, still there for a hundred yards (what kind of a dreamer shoots twenty-two at a hundred yards) and I was only firing on the fifty yard mark.

So I moved onto the postal target and shot ten rounds. Day is done, now pick up the brass, put the firearms away, take down the targets, pack out and drive off to find my wife waiting, patiently for absent husband. I really don't want to know what kind of trouble she thought was delaying me, but since she had worked out for and hour and a half she was hungry - having given me half her breakfast sandwich, we went to Than Brothers Pho Place. Don't I love being in the Crossroads of Civilization Collisions - there is so much good out there my mother never gave me.