well, it is tuesday, garbage goes out day...

My dreams were of making and firing fireworks off, a very amateur production and intensely exciting when done well, and if they didn't launch the worry about them becoming just a local area bomb in place - the place one doesn't want to be. Nice dreams, and a new exploration.

The visit from the communications officer and my top two supervisors went very well, very quickly. The best part was that when movement was called the surge of inmate patrons, carrying books and questing for knowledge and being typically demanding constantly interrupted our conversation. I was busy and looked like a juggler on that pre-Swiss circus ball going around entertaining. There was a Recreations Staff guy that took pictures but I couldn't figure that out, he was shooting towards the library and the inmates, and they don't have to have pictures done and are protected, we'll see. The quickness was coming on one boat and leaving on the following one - less than an hour on island. Works for me, I had a ton of stuff that I stopped and had to go back and finish.

I am proud, I have cleaned up and shredded the dreaded procrastination pile of plenty 'portant papers. All the numbers are carefully placed in the proper digital accounting device (Quicken in this household) or hammered in furiously so the total reflects my kind of reality... I am so ahead of Wall Street, I don't have to ask for help from Congress and I am not blaming anything on the sitting or previous administrations - I blame Earl. Broad shoulders and broad belly he can bare the burden. Since the selling off on Wall Street I went looking for the closing prices in what we invested in, and are investing in, and plugged them in - it has been a while since I did that, but I did have the reports from July about the second quarter - yep, we are poorer again, sigh. Having plugged the numbers in for over thirty some years I am prepared for the ups and the downs of the market - and even with yesterday's results I am so far ahead of that just returned from Vietnam guy buying a two hundred and fifty dollar Pontiac with the wires dangling loose and the body internally rusting out (road salts anyone?)

Three weeks not taking the Doctor's recommended medicines, and I feel better every day - must be getting closer to Heaven's door than I know. I don't know anything except to go see the doctor when one is sick, wounded or ill. But if he measures you and finds you different and out of the box, I don't think taking a pill is going to help - and what one believes has much to do with the success of medicine and lack thereof....

Y'all have a great day, some lucky folks are harvesting and I just have to take out the garbage and go jog after breakfast. The mound of shredded paper I created must get to the land fill for future flaky foundations.

Strange Monday

I am off to work early, an important visitor, the Program Manager and my supervisor will be dropping by to McNeil Island Corrections Center branch library - the one I keep. So I guess I am going in early and the crew is coming to work early so we can make the place wonderful.

I dropped off posting, I have been attacking the procrastination pile and control of my finances. Can't expect the new government, (we are changing all the current office holders in November's election aren't we?) to get control of spending without that I do likewise. No, I am not basing my life on the government, I need to be in charge for the coming complete collapse - of me, if not the world. Only two little things to finish, since I have finished the checking account - my wife's mutual funds and my savings account, should be done after lawn mowing tonight. Tomorrow I move a little money between accounts and we will be prepared for October's ghouls and ghosts and good stuff like motorcycles in the Autumn and shooting the M1 Garand - the ammunition is on the way.

Been doing lots of religious stuff lately, choir practice on Thursday evening after Methodist Men's Bible Study. We actually finished a chapter in one session - we drift and add and expound much on our personal points of view - we trust each other. On Saturday I drove my wife to the Baptist Men's Bible Study and a farewell to one of their members, he and his wife are off to Korea for one or two years. I was not comfortable, they pray in a different cadence than I do, but the Bible is the same read differently and they sang as loudly as they prayed, I was trying to sing my part (my choir director has ruined me for just melody) and they were just joyously booming upon the melody line. The food was massive and wonderful, always more than enough, always different and all of us had a good time. On Sunday I went motorcycling to church, it was perfect riding weather and Norman Rockwell was painting the day for the Lord. I was told by the preacher that I shouldn't stereotype and be so racially biased, but I live with a Korean lady that knows the most superior race is Korean (although I hold out hope for the entire Human Race) - it could have been a blanket sermon for the few that aren't comfortable with others (you know the kind I mean - those others). Since this lay preacher is a school teacher against guns, he has his own bias to overcome - I'll pray for him and invite him to go shoot with me someday.

No more credit? Delayed gratification rules...

I worked in high school, made enough money that I could buy a well abused Harley-Davidson as old as I was - seventeen years old. My father helped get it home and we tore it apart to rebuild it - he was flying corporate and could visit old Harley shops around the country and pick up parts - my only talent was sanding and removing old layered paint and holding stuff that needed two extra hands while a bolt was run in or through. It was one of the best things I was doing during those years, and it was with my Dad.

Funny, that threat of no credit to buy cars doesn't mean that much to me. My father bought his last car, used, and paid in cash I guess. His problem with the cost of the car wasn't the total price, what he had problems with was that it cost more than the home he and my mother lived in - inflation is an amazing thing. My first car was used, I was spending all my money on a new wife, not that we had a lot - I wasn't borrowing for that either, paid cash or waited to buy when we could afford it.

The thought of not having people trying to get me on a new credit card, a new car loan, and a new improved mortgage is wonderful. The idea that if I wanted to travel I would have to have a bunch of money in the savings account works well for my wife, she is going to her homeland next year to help rebury family, but it is all cash - she hates it when I borrow money.

Rumor from Asia, there was a general that took charge of his country, wanted to build it up like Japan had done after WWII. He went to America to get some financing, and the Democratic President said NO, there would be no money for dictators. Well, that was the rumor, and so the guy in charge went and gathered all the wealthiest men in his little country. He told them how much money they needed to come up with to start his industrialization program. They listened and thought about it, and then almost decided that they weren't going to find that money. But he was the guy in charge and rumor has it, that they weren't every going to leave that room if they didn't come up with the financing. So they put together a package and left the room and the industrialization began, and the exporting of talented people so they could send hard currency to the home country, the exporting of contractors, engineers, products and ships. They exported a couple of Divisions of military and gained cash from that. The economy grew and the country remade itself from sleepy agricultural to industrial manufacturing. Almost everyone wanted to own a business instead of working rice paddies. I knew he was in charge, but what amazed me was when he declared that rice straw couldn't be used for roofing anymore - they were a modern country and not that poor. So the straw came down and tiles, metal and other kinds of roofing went up. Yep, he was definitely in charge and transformed his country.

I am sure America is much farther along in the development cycle, and losing weight from our flabby self indulgence might be a very healthy thing. Forbes had a list of the 400 richest Americans, didn't it? How much are they going to pay to prop up the Banking industry? Much more than I can, I am sure, I am more consumer than investor. I will keep paying my bills and adding what I can to the Credit Union accounts so they can lend it out. If the man from Omaha can come out and invest money, I am sure some of those other names with too many dollars of worth could, too. Saving banks is a rich man's game, my job is saving my family.

I do know that a major Depression changed a whole generation into savers and 'do without' and 'make do' and pay cash. My grandmother wouldn't allow my grandfather the money for a new car, she was waiting until the bad times returned. Those that don't study History are doomed to repeat it. And for her, once was more than enough.

Old people should learn something every day...

It is good to feel like you know everything you need to know, or if you don't know it (go to the reference librarian and ask) it isn't really worth knowing anything about. But I learned something, about shooting, that I realized when it was seriously offered as a solution I didn't know but did need to get on it - the next trip to the range. Seems I haven't been as open eyed as I thought I was. Most of Sight picture and Sight Alignment I could quote and I could yawn listening to that young soldier talk about it. But when he talked about his coach telling him that he shut his eyes during his shot, and that was why he didn't see the brass ejecting, he had an answer for better follow through that worked for him. And that gem is one of the best I am going to treasure and polish. Go forth and do likewise!

Nothing much to report today...

Did some serious thinking about my M1, so I went and found my father's bayonet from the Pacific War. It all fits, the M1 Garand and M1 bayonet with M7 scabbard. There were longer M1905 bayonets around from WWI, but ten inches of American steel is probably enough, the current bayonets are much shorter, but then the entire rifle is shorter isn't it? I then went looking for bayonet drills, and the Nineteenth Century was full of them.

I had rifle PT and bayonet drill with an M14 in 1967, thought it could be useful in the wrong places during bad times. I know that constant contact with and care of the rifle was helpful long before they took us to shooting bullets with it. It was never heavy, other things like radios, rations and rain gear was always heavy, but the rifle and bullets never seemed heavy. Carrying ammunition for the machine gunner was a bit of a burden, but part of the price one paid for all that suppressive fire. I never really believed in suppressive fire, I would call on mortars or artillery to really knock them down, and I never had to carry their ammunition nor haul their weapons.

Well, time to watch the third DVD on Mind Over Matter, and practice my shooting positions - it is really nice to have a weapon that feels strong and fits well. I am delaying my shooting with it, but then raising the suspense is heating up the seduction. Who is being seduced? well, it must be me or the rifle.

So in Las Vegas...

Several major Entertainment Establishments have run up against a string of bad luck - the house's bad luck - percentages were on their side but something happened and suddenly they weren't raking in a constant profit of the house's share of the slots and the tables. People weren't coming as much and the ones that did were going home loaded! Imagine, the Entertainment Establishments kept the glitter and talked the talk and walked the walk - but things were shaky. The High Rollers kept coming because the word was out and the stakes were high and it was time to come and get theirs. They came in droves, no one could lose a bet. The Casinos were on the ropes, families weren't coming, the little stuff was just the compulsive gamblers and they were winning, too. How could this happen?

Since the lights were about to go off in Vegas, the joy gone and the ripple effect of the collapse of the entertainment industry threatened the economic security of Nevada, then California (what to do with hundreds of unemployed chorus girls in feathers?). The FEMA was called in before the total collapse, it would have been the Treasury but they were busy saving Wall Street. Bugsy would have been proud, the mob wins again...

Sorry, the story is so short, the economy is built on work and it is nice to have credit for those things one really needs and can repay - but loan sharks and creditor slavery weren't lawful once upon a time, and they aren't really what keeps America functioning. Did you ever see the collapse of America on Banking Holidays, weekends or because the big money guys were off to Europe or the Caribbean stashing their loot? I don't really think I need them, do you? Nope, you don't have multi-million dollar political campaigns to finance, do you?

Dazy two back on the job, going to day three...

One would think that they missed me, they were politely absent Friday but Monday they poured in to see if we have anything new, have I heard about the latest Cormac McCarthy, and would you please get me all the DSHS addresses in Seattle. I walked down to the dock and ran into one of my better patrons, young man had just been released and was walking up the road I was walking down. He has to go get his check cashed, he was supposed to have a bus ticket, but being a guy and his ride over an hour away he was walking to the bank- about three miles from where they land the ferry he got off. I was supposed to cancel his reserves when I got to the library - but I will do that when I find his name on the Release list.

Rumor had it that I had cancer, won the Lotto or had a breakdown. But they missed me (seven days), the crew isn't really tuned up yet either, but today we should get more done and find all the changes I have to make happen before Friday when my supervisor returns, and next Monday when the Program Manager and my Supervisor will be bringing a Communications Officer from the Office of the Secretary of State for an orientation visit. Seems we are still looking for help on BROADCASTING our story. The Institutional Library Services blog has gone live - you can find us at: Well, imagine that, I went looking in the Washington State Library webpages and couldn't find our button to push.... and there are blog buttons here, and blog buttons there and one wonders who is in charge of blog buttons and why they can't be in one place? as well as other places. Ah, I ain't perfect - looking at my link in the library links on the left I notice my creative spelling Institutioinal Library Services always was more "i" in my life than others wanted to share.

It would be nice if the thousands of library people wanting to find out about institutional library services knew where we are, but then I couldn't find the button and I work in that blog, sigh. Well, in home email is again the offer of donation of books to our libraries, will have to respond.

Promised bail out for Institutions, I got zero...

Went to the ATM and withdrew a Yuppie Food Stamp - a twenty dollar bill and found I have a negative balance in my account - HOW DID THAT HAPPEN! I thought the government covered all the bad paper out there by printing more, I should have tons of money. I know that one has nothing to do with the other, except that the government expects me, as a working tax payer, to cover their foolishness - because they give me a vote and then force me to put up with their stupidity, sigh.

I have one thing left to do in life, get ready to leave it, nothing I will do will make crooks better, stupids smarter, or the sky bluer (lucky that isn't in the hands of me nor the Federal Government) enjoy it while you can. Pay off remaining bills, consolidate our retirement savings in anything except Government bonds and financial institutions, enjoy free stuff with my wife and the love of my life (good that they are the same person). Simple goals for simple old man, hope it works out.

Bikers Against Statewide Hunger BASH, of course

Okay, we did it. U know that I am old and cold and beaten, we gathered pledged and rode out to do good things for the needy of the community - okay, just an excuse to look mean and tough and go fast on our motorcycles. It is the Great Northwest and the Autumn rains are here - just for us, just for today. My wife told me it was raining when she woke, just in case I hadn't looked outside. So I put my leather coat on, and then added the rain suit on top of that. I greased the chain for Trusty's day in the slop and street soup.

In small groups of five we hit the highways and charged up through Seattle - three times I have visited that city, the remainder of the time I drive-by, one rest stop for coffee, one fuel stop for trail mix and beer for the horses (okay, but that is a great song - thanks, Willie and Toby).
About a hundred and some miles into the Sound and the forests to the house that would host the picnic. I parked my motorcycle in the treeline, and helped set up and took lots of pictures - and kept moving trying to warm up and dry out. Good food, great trial of a ride, talk and food and more riders coming in as they found their way - some adventures are bigger than others when they make an unexpected and totally undirected turn. Yep, that is Canada to the North, don't go that way. We did get a real bonfire built. When the last of the food was served and the final riders started warming up the raffle and silent auctions were held, after a brief thank you from the Bikers Against Statewide Hunger as he explained his work and where the donations were going to go. Worked out well for a cold and rainy day, they may not allow Tougher than Thou stuff much any more, but the hard core rain riders had beaten themselves well at seventy miles per hour (or there about) and that made this the highest grossing fund raising activity of the season so far. Next years might be bigger and better, and on a Sunny day the wimp riders will join - and maybe I will have Trusty shining and my wife riding with me.

I did find my way to the ferry, hadn't done getting on and off a ferry with the motorcycle, just walking, and that was new and interesting. More rain on the way home, completely lost contact with the other riders but made it safely. Time for that really hot shower, and deep sleep, did talk to my mother on Skype.com, and my wife has returned from her dinner. Another great day.

Good news,

I watched my second DVD on shooting, sitting position and then kind of practiced it - does the need to have stretched in the last fifteen years enter your life lately? It is knocking on my door, sometimes I just hate the limber youth... but I do know how to stretch, slowly, and will add that to my things I do to make my wife laugh. I won't talk about her limberness.

In the email is the notice that I will receive my M1 soon, and that is fast! Can't send stuff like that through the mail, but FedEx will have it at my door by 10:30 AM, requires one adult wife to sign for it.

I am off to shave, shower and depart on Trusty to work -- real work! at McNeil Island Corrections Center Library, okay! And tomorrow - I refuse to bore y'all, I am riding to Whidbey Island for a charity motorcycle run, keeping the rubber side down. Happy Friday!

Later edit: Great day trying to catch up at the Library - it didn't happen, but I was busy all day and laughing most of it. Came riding home boldly on the motorcycle thinking about tomorrow, met wife and had dinner, opened FedEx box and looked at my new (well, to me) M1, very nice, and it fits me, so well! So to celebrate I took my wife for a walk in the park, looking at the ducks and the black berries and listening to about five different bird calls as we walked around, this another wonderful day. Thank the Lord.

Final Political Pronouncement... of this season

In Happy Harmony -
still clingin' to God,
my Gal and my Guns!

Note to self... get back up on the ball and dance!

Seems like the Federal Government is out of control, and throwing money everywhere but at me, oh, they did send me an Economic Stimulus check, but it doesn't sound as good as the deals they have been doing on Wall Street. I didn't ask for it, I didn't feel I was going into bankruptcy and I don't think I stimulated very much with it. How does the government get it so wrong? I thought government managed economies were a mark of Communism, Socialism was government managed economies for power, water, education and health care, Democracy was government management of nothing but Law and Defense - with universal participation of responsibility for everything else to do with government - you know "of the people, by the people and for the people".

Well, there are troubles enough in my home that I need not worry about the government. Jury duty continues without a court, judge nor trial yet. My wife's medicine costs a lot of money, but we got it at a discount because of our medical insurance - she has three different ones, I only have two (yes, health care providers/insurers) - and am sure the entire health care crisis is because one has to fill out forms every time one gets a new benefit, doctor, procedure or illness.

Why do I need to get on the ball and dance? well, because for a comparative short life line span of remaining time I need to clean up the messes I have stuffed onto and inside the procrastination pile, I have been having way too much fun. In that I seem to be very like the Federal and State governments, way over my limit of credit (comfort level, not real dollars owed), way behind in maintenance of assets (looked at the local street and highways systems closely lately?), way behind in improvement of my wife's life and her pursuit of happiness (just know the government isn't working on that either, although I have heard politicians and media pundits proclaim such).

I don't really think our lives are the responsibility of the government, and we do pretty well on happy, if we heard more from people we care about - that never seems to be enough. Still during the current crisis (which one? well, if the media couldn't find something for me to worry about they would invent it - Global Warming, anyone? or pig's with lipstick? Did ABC post the entire Gibson/Palin interview?). Just the ramblings of a quickly aging old fellow, time for breakfast of gruel and then exercise before cleaning up for the Jury Room and hopefully a court or dismissal. I am so glad the rest of the nation is holding back the flood of terror and disparaging damages to America, I am so weak.

A great 'never to be accomplished' idea - the money used to buy into the AIG, Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae, came from the Social Security Trust Funds, and so now the Social Security Trust Funds actually own something better than Government bonds? I know, go get your jogging shoes on and do something better for the world than think like a fool. Remember, if you think the Federal Government being in charge of your life is a good thing, you must want to be an American Indian - the original Native American indigenous.

Let's get the Rifle and go shoot... soon, one hopes.

I came home early yesterday, to find my wife needing to go to the doctor and my package from the Civilian Marksmanship Program. I took my wife to the doctor and two of the booklets prepared by the United States Army Marksmanship Unit: Service Rifle Marksmanship Guide and International Rifle Guide.

Now I have had, for more years than you need to know, a terrible jealous envy of any group of soldiers that get to fire rifles and pistols in competition, with armory support and opportunity to earn the President's Hundred Tab and those other cool medals and honors. Yep, I never met any of them, they didn't seem to come out to play where I was engaged with godless Communist hordes or training groups of young men to shoot well and work as units to engage the hordes of enemy. So I had what I thought the Army was about and for, and was pretty proud of being a paratrooper, but I didn't think well of the Golden Knights or the US Army Marksmanship Unit, glory boys and playboys is what I thought of them. I was sure they didn't eat mud nor snakes like my buddies and I, and although they could really shoot well I was sure I had more ways to kill quickly than they (suburban legends?) and being artillery I could kill in mass and really out of rifle range for the forward observers and grunts. But I am being cleansed of the jealous envy.

I received "Mind over Matter" 3 DVD set for High Power Rifle Competition with the US Army Rifle Team. And it is great, and the shooters from the unit do a fine job of instructing and sharing their skills with the rifle. Which justifies the whole unit to me, just wish they had been sent to do more work periodically with the rest of the Army. Or made a DVD to share for trainers without their many rounds and shooting experience. Great DVD, buy a copy for your local library to share with the shooting and non-shooting public.

I have to go and prepare for the Courthouse wait again today, but for all of the United States Army Marksmanship Unit members past and present I do apologize for being jealous and mean spirited, I just wanted to shoot more and better but had other things on my plate. I am glad that someone gets to be the best and lead the rest, Thank you.

Do not discuss the case...

We arrived, were checked in on barcode scanners, briefed by Jury Director, Head of Courthouse Security, a judge and a video tape. There are lot of nice people here, working for the local government, selected as jurors and making Lattes in the Lobby. And my two large books are well used for the last day and a half. I pretend to read as I nod off to nap. I do read, I do listen to the call for my name, and until after lunch they have never wanted the Me that has been waiting. Two courts this afternoon and I get to be in one of them, with the rest of the previously non-selected. At least it isn't costing me for parking today, the Trusty Triumph is waiting patiently, aimed at the exit from the garage. Please, release me let me go, for the law doesn't love me anymore. The lady in charge of the callout (yes, I brought that term from the prison) is very nice, tells jokes and keeps the juries moving to the courts. She was here the last two times, eons ago, I was doing jury duty, somethings never change. Although they are working on the Memorial at the entrance to the Courthouse and there is some new artwork on the different floors. Still, the concrete benches are the nicest place to sit in the Sun and eat my lunch, two apples and sliced carrots. Brought my shades so I can watch the pretty women walk by and not scare them.

Dis-jarred from "Just the Library Keeper"

Seems like a conspiracy to me, or the inmate patrons on McNeil Island. Last Tuesday was the last day the library was open for business, I closed and left for: Wednesday, working on ILS blog and the State Library Picnic/Barbecue did move the mail at McNeil, Thursday & Friday ILS Conference, where I learned a lot, failed to bring the assigned review and training sheets for The World Factbook, 2008, which I think is a great reference but too costly for the home - lucky there are links. One of the best things produced by the Central Intelligence Agency, I once loved to read their Country Studies.

There were new assignments given, new policies laid out (daily updating of registered users - seems I am always behind when the program manager needs the exact numbers), WALE Conference rehearsal in front of our choir, so we could get some timing worked out and content and I have to go back and rewrite and edit a bit, and piles of plunder to bring back in my backpack on my motorcycle, if it fit. Bookbag for Brisingr with a DragonArt Mythical Monsters is my Window Prize and I should have bought a Lotto ticket, was my lucky day. When we went to talk about processing ILL requests and other things we shared so much knowledge that would speed up operations it was amazing. I always seem to have to invent a way that the programmers put there, but no one told me about. So I have training to take back to McNeil Island to share with my inmate library clerks, I have some new materials to add to the collection, I have several things to do to improve me and my performance and there will be several things that I will forget and the meeting minutes won't be around for a bit to remind me.

So, quiet weekend with my wife, and I am going to the County Courthouse for my Jury Duty. I will not worry about the three days worth of mail, I will not think about the totally stuffed book return boxes, I will not think that my workers will do something wrong and get fired, I will not be sure that all my performance secrets and stash will be discovered by my supervisor during the four days she scheduled to cover my absence of ten days (maybe more maybe less). I only need to bit concerned about my wife, but I prayed on that and it will be.

Bitter and clinging to Bible and Guns...

I drove my wife to the wedding yesterday afternoon, she has been ill and shouldn't drive. The wedding was smaller and still a joyful ceremony and we wish the couple all the best, marriage is tougher than it needs to be now days. My wife was a bit better and had a good night's sleep but her illness struck again this morning, and then settled back and she was going for her goals, church and one of the ladies' group thing - I get to make my own lunch and take care of myself in the afternoon.

So after the morning jog, shave and shower, dress for church and put a couple rifles in the Caravan (problem with motorcycles, they just don't do rifles justice, maybe a Thompson in a leather holster?). So I go off to church, get to rehearse the Anthem with the choir, first performance of the new season. We robe up, go looking for coffee as the bells practice, and talk about things. My friend asks about my limp, I tell him I am old and it doesn't matter, and it doesn't -- everything wears out from here.
We proceed with the service and I stayed alert during the Sermon so I know how many times I am supposed to forgive, beyond count is the correct answer. A piece of cake and some banana bread with coffee after, more talking with my friend about whatever -- gosh, to think I went to church in my bitterness, or some folks would believe, but then if I were bitter I probably wouldn't go to church. More like hide in the shadows at home, terrified of coming into the light.

I drove off to the range on Fort Lewis, no pistol shooting today. I work on slinging up, sitting position and prone - I am locked on prone, shooting the hundred yard target, I thought I had lost some rounds on the sitting position, but I had miscounted and all bullets were in the target, so more practice on getting locked to tighten it up. I then treated myself to ten rounds of 30-06, and that deer is dead (if these old tired eyes could see him in the woods), I am much better on spotting humans than wildlife. Although two coyotes crossed the highway in front of me as I drove off base returning home, asphalt isn't the natural background for them. I am happy enough with the shooting. Now I have to worry about the wife that hasn't returned.

Dear CMP Customer, Order has been shipped...

Early Saturday morning, and I delete two of my posts, one for 9-11 and one about the election. I don't need them any longer. I am going to vote, and know why I am going to vote the way I will. I do still have to read and pay attention to the Voter's Pamphlets that they will be sending with all the candidates, pictures, positions and proposals. Then my wife and I will sit down at the table over a cup of coffee and make our selections in number two pencil, put inside the security envelope, put that inside the postal envelope, sign on the outside in black or blue ink, attach proper postage. Not that I am keeping score, but she often cancels my vote for someone or something - and I still love her, she will have to talk for herself, but she is still here this morning.

I woke as a cranky old man today, my mother and aunts would tell me that I am not old, that they are, but they are beautiful widows and are much closer to Heaven than I, I will have to keep working on it. My Dad and uncles are all ahead of us, wars and work and wear took their toll. A fine bunch of religious, hard working, very strong loving men serving God, community and families and making the America I am so proud of. That America one only gets a quick glimpse of in the media as the media tells us what to worry about next. I saw clips of Charlie's interview with Sarah, (I having talked to reporters only once for television) I think she did just fine - they edit all they can't use and then tease you on the news broadcast to come back and view the entire (?) thing later in the evening. I didn't need what they were advertising, neither the political parties nor the network are interested in ME. I went to Smackdown and enjoyed the noise (more talking than wrestling) as I read a fine book and laughed with my wife.

I find on my check of email that the Civilian Marksmanship Program has shipped my first order, and they gave me a tracking number and the carrier. I am happy, it is all the supporting books, DVDs and such I need to study to get to be a really fine rifleman. Of course, in 1967 through 1968 I was titled Rifleman, one each, Infantry when I wasn't an Officer Candidate. So long ago and a world so far away. In celebration and preparation for the material I will take some time away from my wife's attendance at a wedding to fire my rifles and work on the positions and perforate paper targets and talk to young shooters and cranky old codgers, and admire the ladies blasting away quietly, at the range. Time for that second cup of coffee, bye!

State Library has picnic, please come...

I spend way too much time with electronic noise, and except for inmate patrons I am not a very social fellow, but I was invited to the State Library picnic/barbecue in the parking lot of our building in Tumwater. So I am getting paid to put eighty plus miles on the road on my motorcycle on a beautiful day, some days are just perfect even when you don't deserve them. I ride and enjoy and get to introduce myself to the new receptionist, who doesn't want to give the biker guy an electronic pass to wander the building with (smart young woman), but I am rescued by Leslie that remembers me from my younger years and working in that building.

I go to the fourth floor looking for a computer I can use to add a small blog to the Institutional Library Services blog site (it is protected from search engines right now, but Spambots find it constantly to add their enlightened comments to our posts - how much trash is out there floating?). I get to use the program manager's computer, under my signature, she will worry that I might see something - I have kept nuclear targets secret, I think I won't tell you what her office looks like - only she knows where everything is, and having worked beside her she really does have it all filed properly and accessible. Anyway, I knock out something about Library Soloists and am content - if some wanderers want to read it and leave a comment, feel free, it works just like a blog but search engines can't find us, stealth librarians? I finish and kind of log off and go wander the building, saying hello and seeing what has changed, stopping by the free public computer access to check on the blog sphere and leave comments behind.

Then it is time to turn in my electronic pass and find the food and the library folk. Really, this is the largest group of human beings I have interfaced with my real wrinkled red face since Church on Sunday, except for the inmate library patrons, and them I get five days a week. I enjoy taking pictures, there is a long legged red haired lady, I get her in a typical Brigid pose, in every picture she is in you can't see her face, and I didn't plan it that way - she has a really great smile. Catching up on what is going on in everyone's lives (back from Hawaii, been sick and what is happening, how are the grandchildren) and listening to nonsense about the coming election. As part of the Office of the Secretary of State (Washington's) we are involved deeply in elections. I will vote is more than just a declaration, it is a duty and I encourage everyone, everywhere to get out and vote. But it was interesting to find that many library workers and librarians aren't quite like Breda - but then we knew that didn't we? After I had a well stacked hamburger and salads and fruits and vegetables, they had a cake walk and door prizes and games, fun times.

I had to ride off into the sunshine, go ride the ferry to the island, move the mail, and turn off the library lights until next Monday (when I will be replaced because I have jury duty) and ride the ferry off the island. I stopped at a small barbershop, talked to the barber about his hunting (I pass his shop and always notice he takes time to go hunting every year and I wonder why I don't know how to take time to do those kind of things). Since his third wife is Alaskan (don't ask me how that came up) we had to talk about Sarah Palin, and Mike has it exactly right. We compared her to a modern Teddy Roosevelt and her effect on the election in general - polarizing is a good word to burden her with, goes with energizing... well, I have a hair cut, didn't let him trim the eye brows, and wonder if the good smelling stuff will last through the mowing of the lawn tonight, but figure my wife will love me anyway as long as I work at it.

Lots of name dropping and links in this, I am shameless -- a sad state of affairs, I should have had something besides the grass cutting to share with Tam, but no gun stuff today, sigh. Although, I once was stirring up hornets's nests like her t-shirt story. Got to love the idea, although I thought Berkley had a really nice shop for buying and playing D&D stuff when I went through there on one of my jaunts to assignments in Asia to improve Democracy's security and defeat the godless commies. Too late to save Cambodia - one of those inconvenient truths about the Domino Theory. Of course, not everything toppled, but then they aren't democracies everywhere either.

Culture and commitment...

I was encouraged by a couple of my favorite blogs to go vote for my favorite military blogs, so I did, having spent about two hours of the wee ones this morning looking at all the blogs I thought were important, and leaving my muddy tracks behind, I did vote. And I found a few of my military blog sites not mentioned in their list of thousands, but you could have figured that from the size of the electron pulse of the internet - it keeps growing...

I am working on the perfection of my rifle shot, and repeating the perfection perfectly, becoming one with the tool and the target. I think of the Japanese Tea Ceremony, and the perfect shot, and when it is you will know your place and the world around it.

Just a muse or two....

The Neo-Neocon has a post that I found interesting, seeing that McCain is an almost failure for graduating near the bottom of his class at the Naval Academy - doesn't the Left know that getting into a service academy puts you in the elite? Oh, they do think that only losers serve in their country's military don't they? They jumped on "go to jail or go into the Service" for a certain son - remember the previous sentence only losers go into the military service of their country, and remember why they stay - because they can't get a job on the outside. Or so they say, I remember watching a basketball game and talking with a guy that was going to go work for something like the CIA since the war was over, I decided to stay in the Army and get ready for the next one - it was 1973. Just couldn't stand the unemployment lines on the outside, I guess, but then I wasn't of the Left. Of course the idea that the military forces that serve the country might just be a very important unique elite never is understood by those sipping Latte and talking about the latest in doctorate degrees and cites. I do not think much about stereo-typing, Rednecks, Country bumpkins, or Ridgerunners and many of the other common folk the best families seem to come from, so I shouldn't be so hard on the Left. In Asia, the cultures believe that manners, sympathy and empathy are critical to being a Human Being, and anything less is just an animal aping a real person.

I was looking at some words on the internet, you should recognize them:

A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.

Political tags -- such as royalist, communist, democrat, populist, fascist, liberal, conservative, and so forth -- are never basic criteria. The human race divides politically into those who want people to be controlled and those who have no such desire. The former are idealists acting from highest motives for the greatest good of the greatest number. The latter are surly curmudgeeons, suspicious and lacking in altruism. But they are more comfortable neighbors than the other sort.

My mother told me to always give credit where due, and she might not know that Robert A. Heinlein wrote both those quotes. I said it on a comment on another blog: The Lady with the Rifle and the Dead Caribou didn't do it to impress me, but it does.

I would have settled for Obama and hunting and cleaning ducks, but I guess he doesn't do that.

Sales on Sunday

I go to CMP and check to see if my orders (one email and one US Postal) are logged, and get a message that I am not affiliated or have allowed my affiliation to lapse and get back with them when I have corrected it - email, fax or mail. That seems to be my problem with the Democrats and Republicans - I am not affiliated, I am independent and they aren't going to represent me- okay, I am not worth worrying about anyway - although I always believed independence of thoughts and actions was the best part of America. Oh, well, to ride on military bases I must have reflective gear, and ICON has just what I think I need, Squad II Spec Pack $125, the price is ugly, the pack is international orange, which is ugly, but I think it could easily replace my current backpack and I would be happy. I have a thing about being ugly, and unaffiliated, alone again or always.

It seems to be Summer...

Blue sky with puffy white clouds ringing Mount Rainier, the work week is over and I ride my Triumph over the bridge crossing I-5 and look at the slowly moving herd moving back to the barn or the Summer pastures. Too many, too crowded, too slow and for them, too bad. I twist my throttle and lift the front forks and smile. I am going home and feel fine, instant response from my bike and power enough to feel young in heart, again... or always.

As I come up the street to the house I see my departing wife, who rolls down her window and tells me she is leaving for Home (someone else's) Bible Study and I will have to make my own supper, I tell her she doesn't love me anymore (singing it and embarrassing her in front of the other women) I will pay for that later, and I laugh and tell her to have a good time. I microwave food, change boots and drop the tie and the keys and stuff from work. I am going to ride off into the sunset, well, as close as a non-cowboy is going to get on his trusty Triumph.

I know I am going to ride the backroads, between forty to fifty miles per hour - the roads are all thirty-five but that must be for someone that can't lean as deep as I can (foolish thought, and lean deeper and roll on that throttle!). If I need more I can go deeper, but I won't. I think about how tentative I was last year on these same roads on the same corners, when I was finding my level of comfort, I haven't dropped the motorcycle much since, but that first year was full of Gravity. Now I believe I should have spent more time with gyroscopic toys longer. The ride always brings a smile to my lips. I do spend a lot of time looking at blonds driving Vets with the tops down, saw five in two hours, it is the last of Summer. Everyone wants to come out to play, Friday evening and the weekend is for partying (or so I have been told).

I can see the new riders, or the ones that think they must be careful because the machines can cost a lot of money and look at the shine on that chrome, listen to the rumble of the pipes. My motorcycle doesn't rumble, it purrs and stirs and I fly by... There are some one per centers, loud bikes, loud pipes and bad attitude - but they do lean deep as they roar ripping by you like you are sitting with your mouth hanging open - or so they think, but they are wrong. They have to prove themselves every day, and fight to be taken seriously; real riders just ride with little to prove, just more miles done safely with a touch of insanity, a little risk anyone? Want to race? how long does it take to get to Yellowstone? If you spend some time in the hospital or with a broken bike waiting parts, you could be the slowest racer out there...

But look at the water gleaming, and the full green of the grass and the trees swaying with the breeze. Lean away from the Sun blinding as you ride into it's glare, do you see the road? No, and nothing that is on it will be seen until you get into shadow, slow down and look at the road... where are those sunglasses when you need them, you remember where you left them. In a car you pack all the extras, on the bike you ride with the minimum, lighter and faster. Why do you weigh yourself down with extras for what-if? Because you are old and wise, or afraid of failure and alone? I make the the turn around noticing the strange car and open door - it isn't for me so I don't stop, I am planning a different return route to race at highway speeds.

On to the access ramp to I-5, and the dribbles of commuters coming late from Seattle, I find only one small Japanese car doing sixty, everyone else can't read the signs and are moving at seventy or a little better. I merge and lean and merge and lean and am in the outside lanes and climbing the hill into the Sun again- the road disappears and so do those cars going seventy - oops, they are only going sixty now - red brake lights ahead. How fast can I down shift, brake, release and roll back on the throttle? I make it neatly, but spooked and glad the turn is ahead and away from the Sun, passed by some young fools on crotch rockets - lovely fearless fools, go get them young hormones on track and at speed... but remember Darwin's Rules - only survivors reproduce and that is most of the point of life... just saying.

Nothing like being alive, on a fine motorcycle and enjoying the end of Summer. Not too many riders flashing the secret V sign, too many other bikes and they don't seem to want to bother... but I like to think I am grinning like a fool when I flash the sign - that grin they can't see behind my face shield and in my head and warming my heart.

Way too beautiful outside to work, write or wread....

Time to disconnect and get back to work.

But I stole this for you to share, since I was preaching at the prison about how to use machine guns in pairs to keep the barrels from overheating - I am way too far from the important stuff:

'OUR Guys' and the honoring of Our Fallen. After reading it here, perhaps you could go visit LTC Phillips to catch up on his tour in Afghanistan.
~~~~~


Date: 10:21 AM 7/20/2008Subject:
An observation after a sad day in Afghanistan

I hope this e-mail finds each of you and your families well.

Here in southern Afghanistan it has been a sober day. We had a really bad fire fight. At this point I am not allowed to say much but our team had 18 guys vs 175-200 bad guys. They scored once; we scored many, many more. Yeah for the good guys.

Unfortunately, we held the first of several hero ceremonies, which occurs every time they move a body from one location to another. At each ceremony, every available service member will stand at attention and line the road, starting at our small morgue and eventually ending with his final flight home.

I am not sure folks back home know what happens at a small Forward Operations Base when a US kid dies in battle.

I am sure no one back home knows that this kid's commander, who is in charge of 7000 men, helped wash the blood from this kid's face and prepare him for the trip home. I bet they don't know that his buddies, all rough and tough and not a sissy among them, stand like brothers, hold hands, cry and exchange hugs. I bet they don't know that 250 people lined the walkway from our morgue to the ambulance just to salute this hero. I bet they don't know that one of my patients, who was also injured in this attack, demanded to be pushed outside in a wheel chair so he could say good bye to his brother. I bet they don't know that the command staff, all senior officers, marched behind the ambulance with tears streaming down their faces and carefully loaded his body onto the plane. I bet they don't know that people line the runway, stand at attention and salute the plane until it is out of sight. I bet they don't know that the FOB Commander orders each of the injured (who is able) to call home, so that their parents and wives, know they are OK, in an effort to ease the shock to the families when the guys in full dress uniforms show up at the family's home. I bet they don't know that tonight, these young men, far from home, will mourn like a family and will then pick up their weapon, wipe the tears from their eyes and head right back to the fight.

My observation: This young man has two families. The one here is already in mourning and the one back home will soon be awaken by this sad news. There are some very good men here, who care deeply for those they command and whom love each other as brothers.

Take care and let's try to live a life worthy of his sacrifice.

From: Richard's Deployment To Afghanistan

How I met my lovely wife...

Just lucky, but a bit of background: You never meet anyone seriously in Korea without an introduction - match makers are serious business and the eligible pool shrinks as more get married off in generations - and families are involved and the Western ideas of a cool pick up line and exchange of telephone numbers or such don't really ring true. Jane Pauley came to Seoul for the Olympic coverage and mistakenly walked into a room of Korean men and not one of them paid any attention to her - she hadn't been introduced, they didn't know her marital status, family name, education level, position in life (the highest is to be the Mother of the son with the future of the family fortune) to them she didn't exist. That was so cool, and I like her and her husband for various reasons.

Anyway, I was told by one of the guys in my unit that I should come to his place and meet a young lady, and she was told by a friend that she should come to the same place and meet me. And that happened - we met. That is the story and the rest is life and couldn't be better.

Of course there was that time her sister was coming to visit her and she didn't want to spend any time with me, so when I saw her and hollered at her she took off running and I chased her (I thought I was fast in those days) but she got into the village and the maze of streets and I had no idea, why she ran or where she went.

And another time I wanted to see her and the gate was locked to the house where she rented a room, and I went through that gate like a hot knife through butter and the homeowner asked me later how I had done that, I demonstrated and he fixed half his security problem (I would always be the other half).

And then there was the time that I had duty on base and couldn't leave, and she knew it and arranged to beat up another woman that had been bothering her - probably one of her best fights, since everyone that knew us came back and told me about it. Violence in defense of self and pride was just fine in those days, I fought and she fought and once in a while we fought each other (passionately but not disabling nor deadly). Oh, the woman that she beat up, was the one that introduced us.

When she came to the United States to marry me, leaving all she knew and loved save me behind - try that fearless women! She was on an aircraft with a bomb, and waiting to get off almost two hours, while everyone on the aircraft and the at the airport weren't told what the problem was... breaking news, not!

Her biggest worry about the new marriage wasn't me, it was her future mother-in-law, which have the status in Korea of being terrible (read wicked witch of the East) until the new bride produces a baby boy and learns how to smooth Mother-in-law's ruffled feathers about keeping the house. Normally, first son's wife moves in with groom's parents, slowly changing but not for most Koreans. Which drove my mother, who so wanted to be friends with her children's spouses, and couldn't get close to my wife, who would get sick every time we would visit them, or they would visit us - tension is a terrible thing.

My brother got real close to upsetting me, he called my wife "Yobo" because he heard me calling her that, and that was fighting words - her name was Kum Cha and only I get to call her "Yobo" which means something like Darling or Dearest and is used between serious Korean couples and GI pidgin (if they never learn the language they make it up).

And one of her birthdays I gave her a most beautiful, meaningful and wonderful present - three silk scarfs, and she wouldn't talk to me all day. She had that long black hair and I had picked those perfectly and she wouldn't touch them after she saw what they were, and she wouldn't look at me and wouldn't talk to me. I was dead meat and didn't know why.

I was persistent and patient and worked at that mute woman all day, and she finally said "Do you really want me to leave?" and I said NO! She then told me that in Korea when you wanted to get rid of the girl friend, or second wife or unwanted but socially attached woman you gave her silk and she took off to the unknown to buy some land with it and support her since you have just terminated the relationship. Must not have had enough lawyers in the old days, I actually saw a Prince, in one of the Historic Serials we watch, send his consort away carrying her gift of silk.

So you see, it is exactly like I said at the beginning - I was lucky, or just really blest.

Good Morning America!

I will admit to making a mistake - I turned on the television to eat breakfast by - and found the flurry over a young woman's pregnancy and the Media's take that this is of National Significance. Don't worry about Red China and Taiwan, don't even think Russia might be more Superpower than we would like, don't think that our wounded Vets become more alone the farther they get from their units and other vets. Nope, just worry about Abstinence Education versus Sex Education and what happens, and who know when and why weren't we told.

The media wasn't told because they don't have any idea what makes great Presidents, just which pictures and news will sell advertising time. They gloss over the Democrat's Attack Blog that started the rumors. Personally, I know I never had sex education and my mother insisted on Abstinence, although she will admit that her own last pregnancy was not planned but very welcome. Anyway, I am not the model of propriety and am not holding myself up to be followed but I am certain having become disgusted with this morning's brain mold slime from the media - they haven't a clue about the Presidency, what is important and who is qualified for the office. They do know how to sell products that one hardly ever needs.

I spent Labor Day trying to get started on the last quarter of the year. Just think, I am so far behind I need help catching up. I finish the evening ironing the clothes, my mother taught me well when I was in high school, of course, we don't sprinkle anymore since we have steam and surge irons and permanent press. I did get mailings and bill payings prepared, need to find a notary for the CMP paperwork - the M1 is in the works, after I send it out I just wait for delivery. My wife and I rolled coins and counted bills from the donations at the coffee stop, I think I need to stop being United Methodist Men's Treasurer next year - my personal books are six months behind - and my wife told me three times to wash my hands because of how dirty the money was and one never knows where it has been. Yes, dear. Actually I don't do 'Yes, Dear" I do "Ney, Yobo"

Well, back to going to make the world a better place for prisoners, churches, people in general and those wonderful women that have loved and bring forth the better future in their babies.