Sticks and Stones

Piggy backing on my very aggressive encounter yesterday, one of the phrases that came out of my mouth, that may have been overlooked in the posting, was – you can say whatever you want to me, they are only words. Although that did not go over well with my already angry suitor, who then only cursed me out more, I began to think of why I said it to him.

When I was very young, I remember my mom telling me that ‘sticks and stones can break your bones, but names shall never hurt you’.

Only if you give words power can they actually emotionally hurt you and more often than not it is for a brief time. Yes, sometimes emotional pain can be worse than physical pain; no band-aid to put across to help it heal, no Bactine to burn the hurt out of you (that anti-bacterial spray actually hurt worse than the cut!), no bacitracin to keep bacteria out and heal faster… nope, this is all on you and whether you choose to let words have power.

I considered the source yesterday and that is something to keep in mind too when you come across someone mentally stunted and trying to intimidate you with words. Just laugh because the source is too inept to realize the anger and energy they are wasting on you. It is going to burn inside him/her for a very long time trying to understand why it didn’t bother you and that anger will feed on itself.

It may take a few hours or a few days to put it behind you, but you can, and that is the simple enjoyment of ‘sticks and stones’ logic – – you can just let it go and enjoy.

After all, they are just words, floating thru the air for a millisecond and then gone forever.

Memorial Day is a time to pray for all the soldiers who have passed away

These markers are placed in remembrance for those who paid the ultimate sacrifice. How often do people walk by without looking at the name of the soldier thinking it is someone from so long ago they are not so relevant….. well this is not always the case. My parents fought for this corner street stone to remember my brother (and my father always planted flowers there). A small but critical conflict in Grenada in 1983 where Rangers were deployed to secure the island and ultimately extract the medical students studying there.

1983…. it wasn’t that long ago..I was in high school…it was a conflict that is often overlooked with little recognition but to those that were along side my brother, it seems like just yesterday and a moment in time that should not be forgotten. These men are so amazing and humble they are a completely different breed and deserve all of our thanks, every day; far more than the very few holidays we afford them in ‘remembrance of their duties’.

There was only a handful of soldiers who died that day and more wounded.

Always remember those that have fallen and their families who tried to move forward with a piece of their heart missing.

The love-hate relationship with October

philip

I love Halloween, it is my favorite holiday EVER, period. However, it is also the most painful month too.

Gone too soon, only 21 years old for a few months… I am reposting this because of the 33 yrs anniversary:

It is with great displeasure that I write this post. What I wouldn’t give to have my brother back these 30+ years. To see whom he would have married, his children, his choices in life. But instead he chose one of the most unselfish ways to spend his short time here among us, he joined the Army and became an elite Ranger. Consequently he was killed during the second wave in a very small town, on a very small Caribbean island called Grenada, giving coverage to many American medical students forced to return home during a hostile political event.

A devastating time for my parents; to be told you will never see your child again, to never say good bye one last time, to say I Love You one last time. It’s one of those things we take for granted I think, saying I love you, taking for granted you will see or talk to the person tomorrow and remember ‘next time we talk’. Even saying it in passing is great to hear, but not quite the same as if you knew it would be the very last time…the very last time… heart breaking, devastating, it goes beyond that. There is just no word for the amount of empty left behind.

He was just a great person, not because he is no longer here and fond memories can sometimes overshadow the bad times, he was truly one of those people who would go out of his way for you to make sure you were happy, to help if he could, a kind and gentle soul and so very funny. He loved music, was artistic, and put up with his kid sister always tagging along when he just wanted to hang with his friends.

Ah, his friends, they were bountiful and from so many different crowds; neighborhood, school, church, sports, he fit into all the groups with ease because there were so many different levels of him to love. I could go on for pages giving him accolades, and all would be true, but I won’t.

Recently I have been given the opportunity to have him, and his unit, honored for years to come as I have been requested to submit his picture (shown above) to the National Museum, United States Army for a permanent exhibit in their halls. How proud we of him, how much we miss him every day, how I would give anything to change that day and have him back.

Operation Urgent Fury

Operation Urgent Fury

#MemorialDay

In hot pursuit of failure….

ohm

“If you are not failing, you are probably not trying as hard as you should be” – George Church

A simple concept brought to a new level and makes me kick myself for not thinking it first. This isn’t your run of the mill daily failure –  this is the – kicking ass and trying thousands of different ways to achieve your goal, knowing deep down in your mind and heart that it will work, it will.

I read this great article about George Church, Ph.D., with whom I had never heard of before because I do not run in those circles, but was just inspired (and a bit jealous) of the life he has lived to this point. The ups and downs, the so-called ‘breaks’ he thinks he has been given, the passion for science and discovery….

If you have five minutes I strongly recommend this read,  if just for the glimpse of what life has to offer every single one of us, just keep pursuing it, for it is the successes and more importantly the failures, that push us to greatness.

http://news.harvard.edu/gazette/story/2016/05/if-youre-not-failing-youre-probably-not-trying-as-hard-as-you-could-be/

“I have not failed. I have found 10,000 ways that won’t work.” – Thomas Edison

Call me Quick Draw McGraw!

shootingrange

This is why I don’t own a gun. A decent shot and a short fuse doesn’t mix well and I don’t have the time or money to get bailed out.

It’s nice to see that I haven’t ‘lost it’ as shooting is a perishable skill. The far left was the practice sheet. I was aiming for the head (aim small miss small is what I was thinking). Then I figured why not go for the center mass.

I had never used a hand gun to shoot with so the .45 felt like a small cannon in my hand. The lane distance maxes out at 25 yards which was a bit disappointing but the experience was very cool. Many thanks to F-Troop’s Vanderbilt for his patience and a great idea!

Next time, I am using the Zombie sheet (and not the outline figure as shown above) as I don’t want their rotting flesh and goo to distract me when it’s ‘go time’!

Ambitchous….

poster

There is a fine line between a woman ‘standing up for herself’ and being a ‘bitch’. I have yet to find that line but I am sure it exists; more often than not, I get the ‘bitch’ label. For those of you that have said it to my face (on many occasions), you can agree that my response has always been, and will always be: stop kissing up.

I have to say that my super-cranky reaction to a situation is just that; a reaction. I am by no means searching out scenarios in which to wield my highly explosive intolerance for stupidity.

The first (and most repetitive interaction) typically involves me waiting in line and getting cut off, as though I have hit my ‘stealth button’ and instantly became invisible. The millisecond response from me is always an unwaivering, ‘are you kidding me?!”  For some reason that seems to startle the offender and wakes them up to the fact that they are no longer on their lonely planet of “I” and must abide by the simple rules of society and it’s strongly recommended guidelines of ‘wait your friggin turn’.

There are times where adults are not pointing out their children’s misbehaving and I have to take things into my own hands. Example: at a college open house for Goose, potential students (17-18 yrs) and their parents are sitting in an amphitheater getting the background on the school and what they offer, finances, etc. and the three young miscreants with their mother were talking loudly and laughing throughout the whole seminar. It was not until the continuously full-blown kicking of my chair, did I spin my head faster than Regan from the Exorcist, and gave my, “are you kidding me??!!” to which the young men horrified, stood up and said they would wait outside. Good call because next comes the pea soup vomit while talking in tongues and no one wants that.

Other times, a good friend needs to have that certain someone on their side, that friend with a bit more bravado then they do. So… while in a Chinese restaurant with my friend (we will call her Shrink because she is one) and her boyfriend were sitting at a crowded bar, I hear a woman complaining to her boyfriend that Shrink is being loud and obnoxious. Really? We are sitting three people away in a packed bar and the only voice you can hear is Shrink laughing and telling stories. Hold the phone and call Oscar Goldman because a new Jaime Sommers is in town! (that’s a late 70’s reference for you kiddos) but I digress. I walked over to her and called her out on it, citing the fact that it’s a loud bar and there is no way she should be calling my friend names without provocation. As she turned to her boyfriend and started to curse about me, I kindly noted that I was not using profanity in any way and name calling wasn’t necessary… just apologize to my friend. The boyfriend stood up (a good 6 inches taller than me) and became aggressive to which I stood my ground and said that he was not part of the conversation, I was talking to his foul mouthed girlfriend. He then called me a bitch (yes I had to say, stop kissing up, it’s a natural reaction) and then he poked me in the shoulder a few times. I nicely reminded him that unwanted poking is considered assault and that seemed to warrant him screaming me a few other choice words but stopped the poking. No better way to show your pea-sized brain than to scream profanities; boring, yawn, over it.

So you see, I have been mislabeled and misunderstood my whole life. I will not be walked on or overlooked. I demand as much space in this world as the big jerks that seem to be taking over.

(P.S. if you know to whom I owe credit for this awesome intro picture please let me know!)

Army Ranger and so much more

philip

It is with great displeasure that I write this post. What I wouldn’t give to have my brother back these 30+ years. To see whom he would have married, his children, his choices in life. But instead he chose one of the most unselfish ways to spend his short time here among us, he joined the Army and became an elite Ranger. Consequently he was killed during the second wave in a very small town, on a very small Caribbean island called Grenada, giving coverage to many American medical students forced to return home during a hostile political event.

A devastating time for my parents; to be told you will never see your child again, to never say good bye one last time, to say I Love You one last time. It’s one of those things we take for granted I think, saying I love you, taking for granted you will see or talk to the person tomorrow and remember ‘next time we talk’. Even saying it in passing is great to hear, but not quite the same as if you knew it would be the very last time…the very last time… heart breaking, devastating, it goes beyond that. There is just no word for the amount of empty left behind.

He was just a great person, not because he is no longer here and fond memories can sometimes overshadow the bad times, he was truly one of those people who would go out of his way for you to make sure you were happy, to help if he could, a kind and gentle soul and so very funny. He loved music, was artistic, and put up with his kid sister always tagging along when he just wanted to hang with his friends.

Ah, his friends, they were bountiful and from so many different crowds; neighborhood, school, church, sports, he fit into all the groups with ease because there were so many different levels of him to love. I could go on for pages giving him accolades, and all would be true, but I won’t.

Recently I have been given the opportunity to have him, and his unit, honored for years to come as I have been requested to submit his picture (shown above) to the National Museum, United States Army for a permanent exhibit in their halls. How proud we of him, how much we miss him every day, how I would give anything to change that day and have him back.

#MemorialDay

Every day is a second chance

 umbrella

Every day is a second chance, but unless you know what you missed or what you should have changed, the second chance will be for naught…so keep your eyes and mind open. 

I was well aware of this oversight two days ago. As I was pulling out of the parking lot at the super market, a young lady was standing in the very cold rain (about 38 degrees F) in just a hoodie, tshirt, and jeans, holding a sign asking for money for food. My initial reaction was, – what luck I actually have some change on me this time! As I handed it out the window and apologized that it was only about two dollars in change, she thanked me, and blessed me, but I still had a nagging sensation; an invisible someone giving me the dipshit slap in the back of the head.

It wasn’t until I drove away onto the highway that I realized if I stopped for just a moment to observe the situation as a whole, I could have given her my umbrella (IDIOT!!). I kicked myself the whole way home and it is still eating away at me several days later. There are few things worse than being cold, wet, tired, and hungry all at the same time and I know the feeling, which makes me feel worse.

I was hoping by sharing this incident it would be somewhat cathartic but to no avail and just wishful thinking.

I will just have to believe that ‘every day is a second chance’ and prove to myself that I am a much better person that just handing over change to solve a much more profound request.