tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-71912050386173973512024-03-15T21:12:06.998-04:00A Colonel of TruthThought-provoking civil commentary - usually tempered with a bit of humor - for a dose of sanity on current events, military matters, politics, arts and sciences, and life in general.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1301125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-15597732235380693622024-03-15T11:01:00.000-04:002024-03-15T11:01:34.578-04:00A, E, I, O, U & Y(OUR) FREEDOM OF SPEECH<p><b><span style="font-size: large;">A, E, I, O, U & Y(OUR) FREEDOM OF SPEECH</span></b></p><p>By Andy Weddington</p><p>Friday, 15 March 2024</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>If liberty means anything at all, it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear. </i></span> - George Orwell </p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Angered?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Enraged?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Irate?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Offended?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Uptight?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Y(our) shaken about something, anything, read or heard?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Perfect!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That is one of the intents of Freedom of Speech - the first of ten in the Bill of Rights of the Constitution of the United States.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And to anyone who has read, understands, accepts, and defends the Constitution, such noise is a sound of freedom and brings joy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In these United States differences are resolved through civil discourse. Sometimes courts. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At least that is the preferred method of compromise. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Less civil means of resolution happen when the angered, enraged, irate, offended, and uptight cause the same reaction in the attacked for causing same.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A fight, interaction (fists to firearms) beyond language, is the least preferred approach to settlement but is sometimes necessary; some only understand and respect being subdued. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That is a choice - freedom.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When angered, enraged, irate, offended, uptight, choices to restore calm and balance endless.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Stop reading/listening.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Walk away.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Engage with a pet. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Go for a walk/run/bike ride/swim.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Listen to/play music.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Garden.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Read a book.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Write a book.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Bake. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Cook. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Clean.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Volunteer.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Police litter. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Pray. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Seek counseling/therapy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Call a chaplain.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Etc. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">However, if not bright enough to understand Freedom of Speech is the right that permits you to publicly express anger, enragement, irateness, offensiveness, uptightness - as countless countries do not permit such - then there's really no point remaining in America. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Make the United States a better land ... </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">leave! </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-77140764600455430192024-03-11T12:21:00.000-04:002024-03-11T12:21:38.501-04:00FATE OF THE UNION<p><b><span style="font-size: large;">FATE OF THE UNION</span></b></p><p><span>By Andy Weddington</span></p><p><span>Monday, 11 March 2024</span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">A man's character is his fate.</span></i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span>- Heraclitus </p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The President of the United States is not cognitively fit for office.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Vice President of the United States is not cognitively fit to assume the Presidency. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Secretary of Defense left his post for a serious medical matter and did not inform the President of the United States. [Marines call that UA - Unauthorized Absence. Would the Secretary have tolerated such poor decision-making from a Combatant Commander?] </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Commandant of the Marine Corps suffered cardiac arrest. He was away from duty some four months. As of late last week came news still not in full duty status. How can a commandant not be in full duty status? [See Arlington, and elsewhere, for irreplaceable Marines.]</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For all intents and purposes the United States is without borders.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As recently as a couple weeks ago China, employing high altitude balloon(s), again surveilled the United States - coast-to-coast - without destructive intervention.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The world was attacked - by Chinese man-made virus and lethal "vaccine" (forced on Americans). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">United States Senators late in years have shown, on camera, to be not cognitively fit for office. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The United States military is three years into not meeting recruiting goals. Retention, too, concerning. The challenges of fielding an all volunteer ready, competent force capable of decidedly defeating enemies problematic. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">According to a growing cohort of concerned authorities who know, the United States Marine Corps - once America's 911 force - yesterday stallion today gelding. [Summary theirs word choice mine.] </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The first amendment - Freedom of Speech - of the Constitution is under withering attack. Speech, civil, factual, and truthful as it may be, is being blocked, suppressed, and punished. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Agendas(s) contrary to traditional values defy law and sensibilities of decency thereby corrupting the American way of life.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Criminals enjoy protection while the law-abiding face harassment, persecution, and prosecution.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There's peculiar belief female can be male and male female. The science of XX/XY reproductive mates dismissed as irrelevant to favor trending social yens. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Government is not, as specified in the Constitution, representative. Agencies amok closing ranks as critics call for elimination. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Media relinquished independence and duty to government making for the biggest and loudest purveyor of dis and misinformation. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">America is void common experience - binder. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Etcetera. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Thus ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">State of the Union does not align with the God-fearing, courageous Founding Fathers vision. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Fate of the Union?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Up to the citizenry, solely. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As man's so too is a nation's character its fate. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Courage or cower? </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-39570366464802694792024-03-05T11:08:00.000-05:002024-03-05T11:08:14.758-05:00AMERICA'S ANGRY PROBLEM<p><b><span style="font-size: large;">AMERICA'S ANGRY PROBLEM</span></b></p><p>By Andy Weddington</p><p>Tuesday, 05 March 2024</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Anger is one letter short of danger. </span></i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span>- Eleanor Roosevelt</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A problem is best addressed by looking at the core - the heart.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Core is the essential simple things.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Is the simple in working order? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Like color, for example. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The core of (unaided human perceived) color is light (of course) and yellow, red, blue - called the primaries. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Without primaries, orange, green and purple, et al., not possible. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">America does not have a color problem.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Be we certainly have a core problem. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That is, a huge cohort of the citizenry is either ignorant of, misunderstands, or hates our history. That goes to heart. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Thus, either no allegiance to or absolute disdain for their homeland. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Absent allegiance, anger.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And then there's the angry (holders of allegiance) at the angry (do not hold allegiance).</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Malfunctioning heart. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Problems, all of them, are simple. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Humans inject complication, for all sorts of ego-centered reasons (that boil down to control, greed and power). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">America's anger is rooted in absence of common binder.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No cohesion. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Born American is not a binder. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I do not care to get into the scores of backup slides - common sense - supporting one pragmatic solution. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To know America's history and the Constitution - red, white, and blue - is core. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Require all citizens, when celebrating 18 years of age, to demonstrate competency of our history and Constitution then formally swear oath to support and defend said Constitution (such allegiance must not be required of just those serving in the military or other public servant roles). </span></p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6DWoo_4M_Rclu0EF5CW7aCZSorAovLvFfbDU-WVinxuKrd_9U9cFfES9S2upFmReyA0WQkLWWRecJUTL-JI3HMpu4TZ1-CwsxZLcVM3cv9ycGEbvKrzZwy-RXTEYtPObhSrJVn4vW3zo0TENdzFGr1jffJevIoXhCJKKVZHU-0qrKPtkxtdbBhOGoYg/s3349/IMG_6858.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2504" data-original-width="3349" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ6DWoo_4M_Rclu0EF5CW7aCZSorAovLvFfbDU-WVinxuKrd_9U9cFfES9S2upFmReyA0WQkLWWRecJUTL-JI3HMpu4TZ1-CwsxZLcVM3cv9ycGEbvKrzZwy-RXTEYtPObhSrJVn4vW3zo0TENdzFGr1jffJevIoXhCJKKVZHU-0qrKPtkxtdbBhOGoYg/w640-h478/IMG_6858.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><b>'Red, White and Blue' </b></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">painted with yellow, red and blue</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(acrylic/paper 12 x 16 in.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">artist: author</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Applicable to whatever pursuit in life.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A citizen's core responsibility. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Accountability, significant and swift, paramount. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Abstainers? Free to flee. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A nation's anger makes for danger - dying heart. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Without heart no life. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">One is not born with love of country. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So schooling, in every sense of the word, not surgery, essential.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Knowledge strengthens pulse - patriotism. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Pretty simple. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A healthy heart is not heartless. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The fibrillating beat goes on. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-33579490010517555022024-02-21T07:56:00.001-05:002024-02-21T09:23:09.112-05:00ADDENDUM: MASTERS OF THE AIR <p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>ADDENDUM: MASTERS OF THE AIR </b></span></p><p>Wednesday, 21 February 2024</p><p><br /></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yesterday was published <b>Masters of the Air </b>(The Georgia Peach's Final Sortie: </span><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://acoloneloftruth.blogspot.com/2024/02/masters-of-air.html">https://acoloneloftruth.blogspot.com/2024/02/masters-of-air.html</a> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">An aside. Only during the past few months have I learned my second battalion commander (2d Recruit Training Battalion - Parris Island 1983-1986) had ties to those brave aircrews - his dad a USAAF officer - pilot. He was co-pilot of 'Lady Lois' - 8th Air Force, 91st Bomber Group, 324 Squadron. He never mentioned it. In a black and white photo of the crew aside plane, he unmistakeable; son spitting image - to know the Marine is to recognize his dad. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, as noted in yesterday's closing, the addendum ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><strong>ADDENDUM: THE GEORGIA PEACH'S FINAL SORTIE</strong><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">By Andy Weddington</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-small;">Friday, 06 May 2011</span><br /><br /><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em>"When my brother and I built the first man-carrying flying machine we thought that we were introducing into the world an invention which would make further wars practically impossible."</em></div><div style="text-align: right;">Orville Wright</div><div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><p><br />Notes received about last week's Commentary moved me to do additional research on the Eighth Air Force and mission of the P-47 Thunderbolt during World War II. Of course, the effort proved educational. And surprising.<br /><br />As we all know, the Internet provides instantaneous access to a phenomenal repository of information. But finding what you're looking for is not always so easy though persistance and patience through fine-tuning searches does occasionally pay dividends. After scrolling through screens and screens of link listings, a couple of words in one summary caught my attention. Carefully reviewing the link content for a few minutes I could not believe what I'd stumbled upon--a firsthand account, essentially a personal but official diary, of what was surely an exciting, and at times terrifying, afternoon for the young aviator I wrote tribute to last week.<br /><br />So for today an unplanned but fitting and necessary addendum to "THE GEORGIA PEACH'S FINAL SORTIE."<br /><br />Here goes...<br /><br />On a clear and cold Thursday afternoon, 24 February 1944, over the hostile skies of Germany, 'The Georgia Peach' aka: First Lieutenant Richard A. Stearns, Army Air Corps--not yet 22 years of age--shot down two German Focke-Wulf 190s. Those kills, of his four, represented by swastikas painted just below the canopy along the port side of his P-47. <br /><br />What was not clear from research is if those kills were his first or last two before he was shot down and captured 45 days later on Easter Sunday, 09 April, and held for thirteen months as a POW in Stalag Luft 1, Barth, Germany. That detail matters not. <br /><br />I found two single page reports. <br /><br />Centered along the top and bottom of each page...<br /><br /><u>C</u> <u>O</u> <u>N</u> <u>F</u> <u>I</u> <u>D</u> <u>E</u> <u>N</u> <u>T</u> <u>I</u> <u>A</u> <u>L</u><br /><br />On each report, a couple of lines below the top <u>C</u> <u>O</u> <u>N</u> <u>F</u> <u>I</u> <u>D</u> <u>E</u> <u>N</u> <u>T</u> <u>I</u> <u>A</u> <u>L</u> and centered was typewritten in uppercase: ENCOUNTER REPORT<br /><br />Each report included paragraphs A. through I., pilot's signature, approval and initials of a reviewer, and a Headquarters, Eighth Fighter Command rubber stamp imprint--a 1 1/4 by 2 1/4 inch box for administrative use--in red ink in the vicinity of the top right of the page. <br /><br />Headquarters registered the reports 21569-D and 21569-E. The numeric-alpha designators were handwritten--as was the numeral '1' below the designator on each report. <br /><br />Paragraphs A. through H. identical on each report...<br /><br />A. Combat<br /><br />B. 24 February, 1944<br /><br />C. 350th Fighter Squadron<br /><br />D. Approximately 1245<br /><br />E. Vicinity of Obernkirchen<br /><br />F. Excellent<br /><br />G. F.W. 190<br /><br />H. One F.W. 190 destroyed<br /><br />Note paragraph F. likely denoted weather/visibility. <br /><br />Paragraph I. is where the reports differ and get interesting.<br /><br />Register No. 21569-D...<br /><br />"I was flying Basement White 2, on Lt. Col. Duncan's wing, when we started a bounce on eight F.W. 190's that were below and off to the left of a box of B-24's. On going down we discovered that there were some P-47's from another group, also mixing it up with the 190's and our first bounce was broken up by them cutting in front of us. We pulled up into a left climbing turn, and as we did I looked back and saw a 190 on my tail - at the same time feeling hits on my plane. I broke to the left - the altitude was around 15,000 feet - and started a roll down with everything in the corner. I gave my flight leader a call and told him I wasn't with him anymore and continued to roll down. About 8,000 feet I leveled off and saw I had lost him. The 190's were still pretty thick, so I picked one out and started my attack. I came in almost dead astern, with a little deflection, and gave him a short burst from 300 yards, observing strikes along the wings and around the engine. I closed to 175 yards at which time the 190 went into a steep left climbing turn and I saw more strikes on his right wing. We had dropped down to about 1500 feet, or less, when the E/A <em><span style="font-size: x-small;">[Enemy Aircraft]</span></em>started for the ground on its back. Just before it hit, the canopy flew off and the pilot shot out and his chute opened. The plane hit the ground and exploded. <br /><br />I claim one F.W. 190 Destroyed."<br /><br />On the lower right side of the report is the signature of Richard A. Stearns above typewritten RICHARD A. STEARNS with 1st Lt., Air Corps. next under. <br /><br />The bottom third of the narrative underlined in blue ink. Also in ink the numeral 5 in parentheses with an 'ok' and someone's initials approving the kill. <br /><br />Add one kill to flight logbook and paint a swastika on the side of the airplane. <br /><br />Register No. 21569-E...<br /><br />"After breaking off my first combat and being alone, I started climbing and was around 3-4,000 feet when two more F.W. 190's jumped me. I broke into them and we started a Luftberry that lasted several minutes. One E/A would pull out to the side, and as I would turn with the other one, he'd come at a quarter head on attack. We traded head on attacks quite a few times and it was on one of these that I downed another E/A. I opened fire with a short burst at about 350 yards, and saw strikes around the engine and on his left wing. By this time we were down around 1500 feet. The E/A flipped over on his back and hit the ground in almost a vertical dive and exploded. I didn't see the pilot get out. I made one more turn with the E/A that was left and then hit the deck. He followed me down, and we were both going balls out on the tree tops. The range was too great for him to get any hits on me - about 1,000-1,200 yards and with the water injection I soon out distanced him. When the E/A was out of sight I climbed to 10,000 feet and came on out alone. <br /><br />I claim one F.W. 190 destroyed."<br /><br />As on the "D" report, on the lower right side of the page is the signature of Richard A. Stearns above typewritten RICHARD A. STEARNS with 1st Lt., Air Corps. next under.<br /><br />A couple of sentences in the middle of the narrative underlined in blue ink. Also in ink the numeral 6 in parentheses with an 'ok' and someone's (the same someone) initials approving the kill.<br /><br />Add another kill to flight logbook and paint another swastika on the side of the airplane. <br /><br />Flying in support of Operation Argument--also known as "Big Week," a large-scale attack on German military aircraft manufacturing plants, it was quite an afternoon for First Lieutenant Stearns--aka: 'The Georgia Peach.' <br /><br />Imagine. Twenty-one years old. Two aerial combat kills. And at times closer than a couple of hundred yards to his enemy--equally determined to shoot him down--moving at hundreds of miles per hour between thousands and hundreds of feet of altitude, diving, climbing, rolling, twisting and turning while firing wing-mounted heavy caliber machine gun rounds at each other. And he returns to base with bullet holes in his airplane--living to fly and fight another day. At least one of the German pilots not so fortunate. <br /><br />All in a day's work. After debrief maybe he had a stiff drink, or two--one for each kill, at whatever make-shift officers' club had been cobbled together. I'd like to think so. And he and his mates swapped incredible tales--none of which had to be made up. If anything, could they possibly capture the adrenaline rush, exhileration, fears, relief, and sense of satisfaction in their telling? Maybe they didn't have to amongst each other--they'd all done it. <br /><br />Now for contrast think about what the average 21 year-old is doing today. <br /><br />Not many of them are serving their country. But those that are volunteered knowing they'd likely go to war. Bravo for their selfless service.<br /><br />And the typical military fixed-wing pilot is at least a couple three years older before earning their wings. <br /><br />I know a lot of pilots and don't believe any of them have flown within a couple hundred yards of enemy aircraft--at least not engaging with weapons--much less shot down two enemy aircraft in one afternoon. <br /><br />But to be fair most of them have had an exciting moment or two in the air--such is the inevitability of flying. It's a damn dangerous and oft times unforgiving business. Like their forefathers, a stiff drink, or two, at the club after debrief. And telling of tales to their mates who, likewise, have been there and understand. <br /><br />Anyway, World War II was a different day. <br /><br />It sure was. </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMXZGcV7yRB5I-Oq0UVSYh-cpUN5K62xy05ntVNMH-2iQsHJssY0Xw3PHvrbcILP0QHnZpfNw4xWZz6d_5UYasWW1ESsiLG3kFrymIkXexUAz_Aws9u2E_GIKb4wcyc3mlm25BWTeyZxe6geKop7Plu0R1n5OjNa5JJuCo4YJXv8JzQlEUYSWylfahRg/s3272/IMG_0111.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3272" data-original-width="2568" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipMXZGcV7yRB5I-Oq0UVSYh-cpUN5K62xy05ntVNMH-2iQsHJssY0Xw3PHvrbcILP0QHnZpfNw4xWZz6d_5UYasWW1ESsiLG3kFrymIkXexUAz_Aws9u2E_GIKb4wcyc3mlm25BWTeyZxe6geKop7Plu0R1n5OjNa5JJuCo4YJXv8JzQlEUYSWylfahRg/w502-h640/IMG_0111.jpeg" width="502" /></a></div><p></p><div style="text-align: center;">watercolor 30 x 24 in. / artist: author</div><br /><br /><p></p><p>Two weeks ago today, some 67 years after being shot down, 'The Georgia Peach' "flew" his last sortie--the skies friendly. <br /><br />Eight days later on Lady's Island, South Carolina, he was laid to rest with full military honors. A gentleman by the name of George, whom I've know for a long time, told me he alone had been entrusted with the privilege of delivering the eulogy. George knew Major Richard A. Stearns, U. S. Air Force (Retired) aka: 'The Georgia Peach' as well as anyone could. He called him "Dad." <br /><br />I don't think she'd object, I grabbed Major Stearns' daughter-in-law's post funeral comment off Facebook...<br /><br />"Back from SC and a wonderful military funeral for Dick Stearns. Flag at half staff, gun salute, folded flag given to daughter, taps, and it just so happened to be the weekend for an air show in Beaufort, SC, so right when the funeral was over you could hear military jets flying by - it was lovely."<br /><br />And so another warrior from "The Greatest Generation," his duty done, rests in peace. <br /><br />In admiration and with great respect, "Farewell, "Colonel" Stearns!" <br /><br /><strong>Post Script</strong><br /><br /><em>A Marine friend sent a link to a video about the P-47 mission. The video is some 40 minutes, but so well done and interesting it feels more like 15 or 20. Make time to watch--to learn about this incredible flying war machine some pilots compared to flying a bath tub, but more so to better appreciate the remarkable, daring, and fearless young pilots--men like 'The Georgia Peach'--who flew them. The squadron's "old man"--the commanding officer--was all of 23 or 24 maybe 25 years-old, and their pilots just kids. Thank you, Tom. </em><a href="http://www.archive.org/details/thunderbolt">http://www.archive.org/details/thunderbolt</a><br /><br /><em>And, thank you, Ed, for the sobering reminder about Eighth Air Force losses. The fliers had a greater chance of being wounded, killed, or captured than their brothers-in-arms serving in front line infantry units. Marine Corps casualties in the South Pacific were tremendous, but the Eighth Air Force's were far greater. Nearly incomprehensible the sacrifices by the courageous to save the world from tyranny. </em><br /><br /><strong>Author's Endnote</strong><br /><br />Luftberry--a horizontal circle defensive air combat tactic commonly used during World War I to the advantage of slower, less capable aircraft. During World War II it was often used by bombers, and sometimes by inferior fighters.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-20483295315825533032024-02-20T07:36:00.000-05:002024-02-20T07:36:43.561-05:00MASTERS OF THE AIR <p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>MASTERS OF THE AIR</b></span><b> </b></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">20 February 2024</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Presently, I'm reading the late Frank Murphy's riveting 'Luck of the Draw' first published in 2001 - his non-fiction personal account of air combat and a source for the now airing 'Masters of the Air' on Apple TV. To date, five episodes released. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Mr. Murphy, B-17 navigator in the 8th Air Force during World War II, was shy a few missions of the magic number 25 when shot down; 18 months POW. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Time to revisit those remarkable young men. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">So, a personal story published nearly 13 years ago (with Addendum to follow in a day or two) ...</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></p><p><strong><span style="font-size: large;">THE GEORGIA PEACH'S FINAL SORTIE</span></strong><br /><span>By Andy Weddington</span><br /><span>Friday, 29 April 2011</span><br /><br /><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><span style="font-size: medium;">"I know not with what weapons World War III will be fought, but World War IV will be fought with sticks and stones." - </span></em><span style="text-align: right;">Albert Einstein</span><em style="text-align: right;"> </em></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><br />Last week's Commentary, "DRAWING COLORING MADDY," included insight about portraiture and a short story about a hasty crayon sketch (supporting photographs remain posted) for friends. This week's offering, though much different than last, a portrait--in word and paint--for friends from the artist's point of view.<br /><br /><br />For today...<br /><br />"The Georgia Peach"--moniker carried by baseball's Ty Cobb. But today's Commentary is not about Cobb. And it's not about baseball, peaches, nor Georgia, per se. It is about sorties, and more.<br /><br /><br />On to the story...<br /><br />Thirty-four years ago come November, at the kind invitation of a college friend, I, along with another mutual college friend, spent Thanksgiving break (from University studies) at his parent's home in the low country of South Carolina. <br /><br />Much of that visit has faded from memory. What's not faded is the overall impression left on me by our gracious and generous hosts. And the incredible spread his mother tabled, for three or four days, satisfying insatiable college boy appetites. Did she ever. <br /><br />Six years later, during a three-year span, there was opportunity to visit my friend's parents several times.<br /><br />Then four years later our paths crossed again--indirectly--through their son. <br /><br />Another nine years passed before seeing them again. That was the last time.<br /><br />I saw my friend about five years ago. Our college friendship has endured though contact only occasional because of busy, chaotic lives and distance, and time just seems to quietly ease on by pausing for no one. But last week came unexpected contact, indirectly, from family. More about that shortly.<br /><br />Shifting gears...<br /><br />Six years after President Woodrow Wilson officially declared, by means of proclamation, 14 June (1916) as Flag Day, Richard Alexander Stearns, Jr. was born in Augusta, Georgia, to proud parents Richard Sr. and Edna. <br /><br />I know nothing of junior's childhood and youth. I don't know if he played sports or had a paper route or if he was a cub or boy scout. I don't know if he was an "A" or average student. I don't know if he fished, hunted, or skinny-dipped in ponds on hot, sticky southern summer days. As to the swimming--probably. I don't know of his dreams or if he had a job in high school or if he owned a car and tinkered with the engine. I don't even know if he had siblings. Probably. But considering he was old enough to remember the Great Depression my guess is life was not so easy at times and plowing through challenges developed a tempered steel-like character; something that would serve him well in life, and sooner than imagined.<br /><br />And it's probably a fair guess that after the Japanese surprise attack on Pearl Harbor young Stearns, some six months shy of his 20th birthday, was among the hoardes of young men who rushed military recruiting stations to defend America. Patriotism, honor, and duty come to mind--forged in that tempered steel-like character. <br /><br />During World War II, serving in the Army Air Forces, sometime referred to as the Air Corps, Lieutenant Stearns flew P-47 Thunderbolts--the escorting, dive-bombing, strafing, dog-fighting workhorse known as "Jug." It was one hell of an airplane, destruction it's mission. The young men who flew "Jug" hailed from big cities, small towns, and farms from coast to coast. And Georgia was well-represented. <br /><br />Some were shot down. <br /><br />And Lieutenant Stearns--"The Georgia Peach"--was among the "some." <br /><br />After more than 50 combat sorties, Lieutenant Stearns was downed on 09 April 1944--Easter Sunday. And he spent thirteen long months held against his will--a Prisoner of War (POW) behind barbed wire and the watchful eye of armed guards--in Stalag Luft 1, Barth, Germany.<br /><br />For a sense of the magnitude of aerial combat that fateful day, an excerpt from the combat chronology (text bolded by author), for the month of April 1944, of the "United States Army Air Forces in World War II" follows:<br /><br />"Sunday, 9 April 1944<br /><br />EUROPEAN THEATER OF OPERATIONS<br /><br />STRATEGIC OPERATIONS<br /><br />(<strong>Eighth Air Force</strong>): <strong>Mission 293</strong>: 542 bombers and 719 fighters are dispatched to aircraft factories and airfields in Germany and Poland; the bombers claim 45-8-14 Luftwaffe aircraft; 32 bombers and 10 fighters are lost; 10 bombers are damaged beyond repair. Details are: 1. 145 B-17s are dispatched to aviation industry at Rahmel, Poland and Marienburg, Germany; 96 hit Marienburg, 41 hit Rahmel and 3 hit targets of opportunity; 6 B-17s are lost and 44 damaged; casualties are 8 KIA, 9 WIA and 60 MIA. 2. 151 B-17s are dispatched to hit the Focke-Wulf plant at Poznan, Poland and the Heinkel plant at Warnemunde, Germany; 85 hit Warnemunde, 33 hit Poznan and 18 hit Marienehe Airfield; 12 B-17s are lost and 93 damaged; casualties are 6 WIA and 120 MIA. 3. 246 B-24s are dispatched to hit an assembly plant at Tutow, Germany; 106 hit the primary, 14 hit Parchim, Germany and 6 hit targets of opportunity; 14 B-24s are lost and 30 damaged; casualties are 17 KIA, 6 WIA and 140 MIA. Escort is provided by 119 P-38s, 387 Eighth and Ninth Air Force P-47s and 213 Eighth and Ninth Air Force P-51s; the fighters claim 20-1-6 Luftwaffe aircraft in the air and 19-0-8 on the ground; no fighter support is available over the targets because of bad weather or distance: 2 P-38s are lost, 2 damaged beyond repair and 9 damaged, casualties are 1 KIA and 2 MIA; <strong>4 P-47s are lost, 1 is damaged beyond repair and 2 damaged, casualties are 2 KIA, 2 WIA and 3 MIA</strong>; 4 P-51s are lost and 1 damaged beyond repair, 1 pilot is MIA. Mission 294: 5 of 5 B-17s drop 2.752 million leaflets on Rouen, Paris, Amiens and Caen, France at 2224-2338 hours without loss. 23 B-24s are dispatched on CARPETBAGGER operations."<br /><br />That was one day. Think about the damage to aircraft and wounded fliers. And more mind-numbing, the losses--of airmen and aircraft. And those who fell, literally, into enemy hands. <br /><br />Nearly 9,000 Allied airmen--some 7,600 Americans and the rest Royal Air Force--were imprisoned in Stalag Luft 1. Lieutenant Stearns spent time in compounds South and North 2. In South he was held in Barracks 1, Room 6 with 23 others--two of whom, Racener and Freeman, were from the Peach State. And while in North 2, Barracks 2, Room 9 he was held with 18 others, one, Armisted, hailed from Georgia. <br /><br />He was repatriated shortly after Germany's surrender in early May 1945. <br /><br />I never heard him speak about the particulars of what was surely an awful experience. <br /><br />And though that hell would have been enough for most men to conclude they'd done their duty he continued to serve in uniform--logging nearly 100 combat photo reconnaisance sorties during the Korean War. <br /><br />He retired from the United States Air Force in 1964. Think about that. He was 42, fought in two wars, and had been held captive during his first one. <br /><br />And as I remember and his son recently wrote, he flew some sorties over a place called Laos. <br /><br />After flying for another decade as a corporate pilot for an outfit in North Carolina, he decided to settle in the South Carolina low country. I can't imagine civilian flying was anywhere near as thrilling, nor as terrifying--at times, as flying military aircraft. For corporate passengers surely would have been terrified, not thrilled, by loops, dives, barrel rolls, and the like--even if performed by a skilled combat aviator. But it was relatively safe, no one was trying to shoot him down, and compensation was probably respectable. <br /><br />He was long retired from active duty (and a year or two from civil aviation) when I first met him--knowing him as "Colonel." And as I noted, at the time I was a mere college schoolpunk who knew some but not much about the military (my dad was Air Force for ten years but ended service when I was young); most I learned from dad's stories, reading, and old war movies on TV. <br /><br />During that Thanksgiving visit, on Lady's Island in the Beaufort area, the "Colonel" extended an invitation to his son and two guests to accompany him on a visit to Marine Corps Recruit Depot, Parris Island. He was going to the Exchange and maybe the Commissary. Unsure of any other intentions, and in those days only vaguely familiar with the mysterious lore of the famous Depot, we looked at each other and unanimously declined. I still think about that brief conversation and wonder why we didn't go. Probably nonsensical fear of the unknown. I've always regretted that decision. <br /><br />And little did I know at the time less than three years later I'd be a Marine. <br /><br />And three years after commissioning, following a stint with the 2nd Marine Division at Camp LeJeune, assigned to the Recruit Training Regiment at Parris Island. And living in quaint Port Royal--less than a mile from the gently arching bridge, spanning the Beaufort River, to Lady's Island and a few left turns to my friend's parent's home. <br /><br />Strange. Ironic. Serendipitous. <br /><br />During that three-year tour, though busy with the demanding pace of recruit training and graduate school, I had opportunity to visit my friend's parents on several occasions. But the tone of those visits was different now that I wore a uniform. The "Colonel" had more to talk about with me. And he did. He shared stories of his flying and war days. I don't remember them the way I wished I did now while penning these words but one visit does rise above the others. <br /><br />He invited me to dinner and to meet several of his Air Force buddies--all in their mid-60s and gray. First impression was they shared a bond--a sense of camaraderie I understood. They spoke of exciting times during their youth flying airplanes in combat. As I recall, all had been war prisoners. I might be wrong about that but don't think so. One of them was held captive for more than five years. He didn't bring it up the others did. Matter of fact I think it was my friend's father who told me. A POW for five years? Hard to fathom back then. It still is. <br /><br />I don't remember their names or if they were "roomates" at Stalag Luft 1. But I remember them as personable. As remarkable. I remember answering a few questions about being a Marine and my duties on the Depot. Kind of them to ask for my duties, with barely four years active service, paled in comparison to what they did during their first four years, and careers. They told stories and laughed a lot. I guess for good reason. They'd survived about the worst life can throw at someone. Why not laugh. <br /><br />After Parris Island it was off to the University of Mississippi--Ole Miss--for duty with the Navy ROTC unit as the Marine Officer Instructor. I knew some of the Air Force ROTC staff--aviators. I thought about the "Colonel" during those days. Some of the NROTC students, Navy and Marine, would go on to flight training. Some earned their 'Wings of Gold.' As an aside, some of those students are still flying--they're lieutenant colonels and colonels and commanders and captains. Some have flown combat missions. As far as I know, none shot down or held captive. Thankfully. <br /><br />A year into that assignment in Oxford and my college friend called about a project on his mind--something for his dad. He had come across some old black and white family photographs from World War II and asked if it was possible and if I had time to paint something for him--it'd be a Christmas present; a special one that year. <br /><br />Of course. Absolutely. Send me what you have. I'll take a look. I'll make time. <br /><br />The 30 x 24 inch transparent watercolor is posted left (click image to enlarge). The painting pretty much sums it up. <br /><br />His dad, "The Georgia Peach," was a kill short of being an ace when downed. Barely detectable, because of the image's small size, is the beginning of his girlfriend's name--"Frenchy"--written on his life-preserver. It's how it appeared in the photograph so that's how I painted it--thinking something like that just might be important and it'd be wrong to exercise artistic license and omit it. I remember learning, after completing and shipping the painting, this might have been a light-hearted touchy matter at home--he didn't marry "Frenchy." <br /><br />Anyway, the painting was a hit and held revered wall space along with the rest of the "Colonel's" service memorabilia. I suspect it reminded him of exciting times. And times, at least some, he'd just as soon have forgotten but couldn't. <br /><br />Nine years later--1996--I was aboard Parris Island on temporary assignment and had chance to again visit with the "Colonel" and his wife in their home--the same home of the Thanksgiving 1977 visit. He poured us a drink then talked about and showed me the painting. It was nice to see it--where it belonged. A man with a quick wit and sense of humor, he made a passing comment about "Frenchy" then smiled, winked, and laughed. And that was that. A distant memory from youth.<br /><br />Sending Christmas cards through the years after that first visit I always addressed the envelope "Colonel and Mrs...". Of course--protocol and respect.<br /><br />Ten years after my last visit it was time for me to retire. Hard to believe. <br /><br />I sent my college friend and his parents invitations. <br /><br />I heard back from my friend a day or so before the ceremony. He called to say he'd been trying to figure a way to make the west coast trip with his dad--and surprise me. That explained his atypical RSVP tardiness. But it just didn't work out because his dad was not in the best of health. How great it'd have been to have them join the celebration. But the thought alone was enough of a gesture. <br /><br />After retiring and while on a trip back east for long overdue visits with family and friends, we made it by my friend's home in North Carolina (regrettably not down to Lady's Island). During our overnight stay he told me his dad was a major, not colonel, but ever appreciative of the "promotion" I had innocently given him. I thought about that surprising news. Then it dawned on me that when first meeting him my knowledge of the military and rank structure was only cursory and that since he was a retired officer and pilot, and as they ususally were in the movies, he was a colonel.<br /><br />But the corrected rank, though nice to know for record-keeping, matters not to me. The man was a decorated, albeit humble, warrior and served selflessly to include enduring unimaginable personal sacrifice. He carried himself like a colonel. He spoke like a colonel. And had the wisdom of a colonel. Therefore, he'll remain a colonel to me. <br /><br />Now, about that unexpected contact last week... <br /><br />A Facebook post forewarned my friend's father, "The Georgia Peach," was not well--the end of his remarkable life was near. <br /><br />In his daughter-in-law's words on Thursday, 21 April 2011: "Dick Stearns, my father in law, POW in WWII for 13 months, retired Air Force, is about to take his last flight over the rainbow. Please keep George and his family in your prayers."<br /><br />I figured the family was 'all present' on Lady's Island. And thought about them. And recalled my visits with this gentleman, his wife, and longtime friendship with their son--my friend, George.<br /><br />The following day's Facebook post: "Major Stearns has flown over the rainbow."<br /><br />And she sent an email: "Richard Stearns, Retired Air Force, POW in WWII for 13 months, my father in law, made his final flight up and over the rainbow today. I am sure the ride was smooth and the view was amazing. I salute you sweet man, noble veteran. We will miss you Poppy." <br /><br />And the email confirmed the whole family surrounded and comforted him--at home on Lady's Island. Carrying on are his wife, four children--the oldest son graduated from the Naval Academy and, like dad, served honorably, and four grandchildren. <br /><br />Though not certain, I'm guessing decorations under his wings include a number of personal awards, at least one Distinguished Flying Cross, Air Medals, and quite probably a Purple Heart among other unit and theatre-specific awards; all recognizing noteworthy service to country. <br /><br />"Colonel" aka: Major Richard "Dick" A. Stearns, U. S. Air Force (Retired), "The Georgia Peach," born 14 June 1922, soared like an eagle on his final sortie--clear and friendly skies all the way "home"--on Friday, 22 April 2011. <br /><br />And shall we likewise pay tribute to his escorts--his "wingmen," four more of our country's warriors, Private First Class Antonio G. Stiggins, U. S. Army (Rio Rancho, NM), Sergeant John P. Castro, U. S. Army (Andrews, TX), First Lieutenant Omar J. Vasquez, U. S. Army (Hamilton, NJ), and Captain Joshua M. McClimans, U. S. Army (Akron, OH) killed that day, 22 April, while conducting combat operations in Afghanistan.<br /><br />Honors to the fallen warriors. With the traditional "missing man flyby" salute for "The Georgia Peach," courtesy of the United States Air Force Thunderbirds: <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8_FqJcFRas">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l8_FqJcFRas</a><br /><br />Five. Spiritually the number relates to chaos, unpredictability, the wonder of life, adventure, and travel with note the best journeys may be of mind and spirit. How fitting. <br /><br />Heroes all of America. <br /><br />And that is indisputable. <br /><br />Now at rest, their peace eternal.<br /><br />Taps.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZHCn8m4-hIvNHMiQHmFPefEwmOuaRZNJTbxgKBbxdQljGRmk_upRc1MVKZY9Q-QkqXr4NPoShzUWJN08T-Pbva32ECGHp36EFBvi_LaJyh2kqQMNkT8ss4tc0rDCtBEyZMcTDO2h1gw1e8pjwf46kgbut8JCjjemwptxc9Yc5fAtEWJAnyR837dWEyHM/s3272/IMG_0111.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3272" data-original-width="2568" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZHCn8m4-hIvNHMiQHmFPefEwmOuaRZNJTbxgKBbxdQljGRmk_upRc1MVKZY9Q-QkqXr4NPoShzUWJN08T-Pbva32ECGHp36EFBvi_LaJyh2kqQMNkT8ss4tc0rDCtBEyZMcTDO2h1gw1e8pjwf46kgbut8JCjjemwptxc9Yc5fAtEWJAnyR837dWEyHM/w502-h640/IMG_0111.jpeg" width="502" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;">watercolor/ 30 x 24 in./painted by author in 1987/Stearns family collection</p><p><strong><br /></strong></p><p><strong>Post Script</strong><br /><br /><em>Army Air Forces during World War II:</em> <a href="http://www.usaaf.net/chron/44/apr44.htm">http://www.usaaf.net/chron/44/apr44.htm</a> <br /><br /><em>Chilling and sobering artwork of Stalag Luft 1 by an American (his, too, quite a remarkable story) held captive:</em> <a href="http://www.merkki.com/art.htm">http://www.merkki.com/art.htm</a> <br /><br /><em>At this writing, during the month of April, 2011, 41 of our forward-deployed warriors have died in service to country. Of mention, none on the 9th--the 67th anniversary of Lieutenant Stearns' capture. </em><br /><br /><strong>Author's Endnote</strong><br /><br />Ty Cobb was born and died in Georgia. Beyond moniker, somewhat sharing a life experience of "The Georgia Peach" featured in today's Commentary, Cobb, in 1918, served in the United States Army. A captain, he was assigned to the Chemical Corps with the Allied Expeditionary Forces headquartered in France. He instructed soldiers how to withstand chemical attack. He did not fly and research did not turn up record of combat. His service though brief, little more than two months, was honorable. He was discharged and returned to the United States.</p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-73834376446061479012024-01-09T12:07:00.000-05:002024-01-09T12:07:15.045-05:00ENFORCING LAW IS NOT RETALIATION<p><b><span style="font-size: large;">ENFORCING LAW IS NOT RETALIATION</span></b></p><p><span>By Andy Weddington</span></p><p><span>Tuesday, 09 December 2024</span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">How strangely will the tools of a tyrant pervert the plain meaning of words. </span></i>- Samuel Adams</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This morning I watched the one hour six minutes timeline documentary about 06 January 2021 commonly referred to as J6.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It's available at open.ink.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Make time. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">None of the footage, multiple perspectives, and explanations for context had I seen or heard before.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The story told by the J6 committee and media does not align, at all, with the documentary. Theirs a patched together disingenuous tale to further agenda. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Some macro takeaways ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">- law enforcement was not well-trained nor prepared;</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">- law enforcement was not properly armed nor equipped;</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">- law enforcement was not well led;</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">- law enforcement, to some extent, instigated and exasperated the protest later declared riot;</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">- President Trump repeatedly attempted to call for calm and peace but his video and tweets posted to Twitter calling for such were suppressed [formed Twitter executives should be charged];</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">- law enforcement, a police officer, unnecessarily shot and killed Ashli Babbitt; </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">- law enforcement officers, on scene, realized they'd been set up and so stated; </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">- National Guard reported for duty after the fact;</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">- Etc.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Was it wrong for protestors (they were not insurrectionists) to enter, wander, and vandalize the Capitol? Yes. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There was comment circulating social media the actual insurrection occurred Election Day 2020. And J6 was insurance.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A rational person would come to that conclusion. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">During a recent interview with Sean Hannity President Trump was asked if he'd vow not to retaliate if reelected. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He paused and agreed saying, "Except for day one." </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No idea what he meant. Does not matter. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The point of this short comment is to yet again sound the alarm to language. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The word: retaliation</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Enforcing law is not retaliation. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">President Trump, charged with nonsense "crimes" has yet to be found guilty of anything. Years of investigations while he held office found nothing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That is not the case with the current President and administration. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Investigated by Congress and proved (overwhelmingly). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Law enforcement, as does media, idles. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">If reelected President Trump does not need to retaliate. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">All the President has to do is appoint an Attorney General who will enforce law and pursue criminals.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That is not retaliation. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That is blind justice and law and order. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That is America!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I don't care if President Trump is reelected or not.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Americans want a fair election. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To that point, the Speaker of the House must release, soonest, all J6 footage for the public to see, digest, and work into their November 2024 voting calculus.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And the next President, rightly chosen by the citizenry, to be of the law and order mindset and demand justice for all - pardoning the innocent and prosecuting the deserving; all of them.</span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-91325875006812280092024-01-08T14:30:00.001-05:002024-01-08T15:59:53.883-05:00VICTOR AND ELON<p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>VICTOR AND ELON</b></span></p><p>By Andy Weddington</p><p>Monday, 08 January 2024</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">You ask what the aim is? I tell you it is victory - total victory. </span></i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span>- Winston Churchill</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This morning while reading my mother 'The Daily Chronicle' - a two pages gouge sheet about interesting topics related to today - I learned the late comedian Soupy Sales was born this date in 1926. He had two sons - Tony and Hunt. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mom, familiar with the slapstick antics of Sales, asked, "I wonder what became of his boys?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"I don't know, mom. Let's look them up." </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So I grabbed my phone.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Professional musicians. Tony plays bass, Hunt a drummer. They've done rather well for themselves. Dad would be proud.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Bass and drum beats a good lead in for a few words about Victor and Elon.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">During the past ten days I read Victor Davis Hanson's terrific 'The Second World Wars' and Walter Isaacson's page-turner 'Elon Musk.'</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At first blush one might conclude entirely different subjects.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And that assumption would be wrong. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Though I've read much about World War II, both theaters, an authority I am not. Dr. Hanson's superb book addresses the wars from macro to micro - contrasting to previous and post wars - giving the reader a better than basic understanding of who, what, where, when, why, and how. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The how. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">How did the Axis - Germany, Italy, Japan - lose?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They lost for sundry reasons but the bottom line was they were out produced. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The United States overwhelmed the enemy with stuff - platforms (land and sea), weapons, ammo, food, medicine, et al. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And competent senior officer leadership.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That oceans safeguarded our factories from enemy air while theirs were being bombed well you do the math. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Errol Musk was born the year after the wars ended. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Son Elon came along 25 years later.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It so happens Elon is a student of history and war. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Elon produces.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">His companies invent and make and deliver things - rockets and cars and communications, for example.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He's the brilliant and competent demanding general atop the marketplace battlefield. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He's a human concerned about human created things threatening humanity. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That threat is closer than not. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As escape, Mars his objective.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He is driving his team to build cheap, reliable rockets for routine nine months journeys to Mars. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Before reading Isaacson's book the idea seemed more comic book to me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not now. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Elon told his young toddler son, "Someday you will live on Mars."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Too young to understand but not too young to dream.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As to not spoil the book I'll not recap Elon's space accomplishments to date. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">If applying an exponential factor to what he's achieved to date even money says he reaches Mars before his time on Earth up. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Hanson and Musk are brilliant men and seemingly as far apart on the personality spectrum as humans could be. I'd sure like to eavesdrop on a conversation. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I've read Hanson for decades and do not recall him purporting an algorithm. Though I suspect if pressed he could easily outline one. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Musk's algorithm struck a chord ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">1. Question every requirement;</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">2. Delete parts and processes;</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">3. Simplify and optimize (if necessary to return a part/process do it);</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">4. Accelerate cycle time;</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">5. Automate. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The algorithm sequential. He teaches it to his workforce and applies it to every business venture.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As I have tried through the years to implore upon Marines and nephews and nieces and any who will listen, complexity is nothing more than humans mucking up simplicity. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As applied to painting, why 32 strokes when five will do?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As applied to music, why six chords when two or three will do?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">From melding the big picture takeaways from both books, it struck me the Musk algorithm was in play during World War II. Perhaps studying war is how he settled on his five steps. It's how stuff - ships to shovels to shirts - got made so fast and delivered to where needed. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Imagine a formation of 328 B-29s on a low-level bombing mission over Japan. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The United States did that - General Curtis LeMay led.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Could that feat be equalled today? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Uh, no. Nor anything comparable. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What 's gone wrong?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Why the bureaucratic, bumbling mess today?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Simple.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Failure to instill patriotism, dismissal of the algorithm, corruption, pathetic senior leadership, cowardice, and the list goes on. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">How to fix it?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Return to the Constitution; a masterpiece for freedom. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There's one candidate for President vowing to do just that. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And like Elon he embraces the algorithm (not that he's stated outright but success assures) and has prevailed on the marketplace battlefield. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Those my first impressions. Still digesting and figuring out the interlacing of the books. Other books, too. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Urge reading both. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No joke, war drums beat. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Victory the only option. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ready sword! </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-27180121668873134362023-12-21T11:36:00.000-05:002023-12-21T11:36:46.590-05:00THE WORLD WAS WOKE BEFORE <p><b><span style="font-size: large;">THE WORLD WAS WOKE BEFORE </span></b></p><p><span>By Andy Weddington</span></p><p><span>Thursday, 21 December 2023</span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Human nature is evil, and goodness is caused by intentional activity. </span></i>-Xunzi</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Post World War I France was woke. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not unlike today in the United States and elsewhere words were tailored and mandated to fit agenda. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And that agenda was purposely designed to suffocate truth and reality. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The culture was poisoned. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sound familiar?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For the manipulation of language to control thinking and behavior, and all sorts of false perceptions and assumptions, ignorance, bravado, miscalculations, and man's unquenchable thirst for greed and power, World War II was inevitable.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">World War III is inevitable for the same reasons.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It's not that human beings cannot learn from history.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The fallibilities of man ensures history will be repeated. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And more spectacularly. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Comparatively, as ugly as war is, World War II made I look like a schoolyard fist fight, III will make II seem a spat.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Tools for devastation and killing will make for mind-boggling destruction and casualties. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'm currently reading Victor Davis Hanson's 2017 tome 'The Second World Wars.'</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Into the first few chapters, a chill.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Fact-based hindsight analysis eerie.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Can inevitability be prevented?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Stopping Earth's rotation a more likely possibility.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I've not revelations but have come to understand evil survives and thrives for snubbing order, rules, laws, and civility.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ignoring, dismissing, underestimating, and humoring evil emboldens it; like aggressive cancer.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And cowardice is bedfellow of evil - their symbiotic partnership compounds destruction. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What ultimately defeated Germany, Italy, and Japan?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For that matter, evil throughout man's existence?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Man. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not just awakening from woke but courage.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Courage to write. Courage to speak. Courage to fight. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The pen ball point draws ink.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The sword point draws blood. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The pen, the word, and the sword instruments of war.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When to draw which as much art as science and instinct to survive.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Blood makes the story. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ink records history.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Here we go again.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">America is amidst parlous (favored term of a Marine friend) times.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">France 1920s, America today. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Freedom of speech is under withering attack.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The public being shaped by words - demanded and prohibited. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Blind justice is nearing last breath (e.g., clownish persecution of a former President; J6er's; Colorado, et al.). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Oath takers - civilian and military - compromised; abetting or cowering. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Constitution of the United States empowers the citizenry to preserve effective representation. And provides means for doing so. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Only intentional activity will preserve goodness. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Christmas upon us. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Santa cannot fix it.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">God's not going to. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So the cold-blooded, pragmatic, objective conclusion - the logic - save not-before-realized human-based extraordinary circumstances ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">World War III inevitable, and so is civil war.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Buckle up!</span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-30433988719625504372023-12-18T13:15:00.000-05:002023-12-18T13:15:20.796-05:00SCROOGE BAH HUMBUGGED FREEDOM<p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>SCROOGE BAH HUMBUGGED FREEDOM</b></span></p><p>By Andy Weddington</p><p>Monday, 18 December 2023</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Darkness is cheap, and Scrooge liked it. </span></i>- Charles Dickens</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Without fail my best observations and thoughts come when behind the wheel. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There's something about the multi-sensory stimulation - and alertness required - to safely operate a fast-moving motor vehicle.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This morning a small pickup traveling in the opposite direction along a narrow two-lane stretch caught my eye - across the top of the windshield in giant Declaration of Independence like font: We The People</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I was heading to a local bakery to buy cookies. Big oversize cookies. Giant cookies. Calorie count exceeding all sensibility. But, hey, it's Christmas. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They had 35 on hand - chocolate, cranberry oatmeal, and chocolate chip. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Bought all and delivered to a local family run automotive shop. They take care of our cars. Patriots. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not fifteen minutes later I read today is International Bake Cookies Day. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That is karma. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Alignment with the Christmas spirit.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For the slow, that's not intended as tired joke. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Exhausted?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have a battery of these but will spare you. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Speaking of Days ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Saturday past was Wreaths Across America Day. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZ7tDxa4kG7wQJCouj1sgQdWqOBFcqqKAY91YPzgMh-0tgOWZ2Y2rWCEUG2nGLBmmodsrBP_zu2CVoOLwtR9Ng8BBmj58M2rw_kohm5dsaBSIg6WvGj0Y2InecxQd4rbMQJ4j3WoY_HOfV-dv_kwZg2Qg3zBFAMI3Iku_h3gTVYJjGfhbsfzIhJkqMEg/s3698/IMG_9613.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3698" data-original-width="2327" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZ7tDxa4kG7wQJCouj1sgQdWqOBFcqqKAY91YPzgMh-0tgOWZ2Y2rWCEUG2nGLBmmodsrBP_zu2CVoOLwtR9Ng8BBmj58M2rw_kohm5dsaBSIg6WvGj0Y2InecxQd4rbMQJ4j3WoY_HOfV-dv_kwZg2Qg3zBFAMI3Iku_h3gTVYJjGfhbsfzIhJkqMEg/w402-h640/IMG_9613.jpeg" width="402" /></a></div><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Americans, of all persuasions, turned out to adorn veteran gravesites with a traditional Christmas wreath. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A neighborhood gold star family, friends, posted photos from Arlington. And another neighbor gold star family in our prayers. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The fragrant pine greenery with bright red bow complementing a white headstone is, well, breathtaking - for sheer beauty and more so for what it represents. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A thank you from 'We The People ... '</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yesterday, we attended the matinee performance of a popular local interpretation of the Dickens classic 'A Christmas Carol.'</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This marks year 50. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The play is true to the original theme's spirit though takes liberties modernizing to include throwing hooks and jabs at politics and politicians - local and national. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Scrooge like, fitting. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The audience, always a sell-out, not only expects but truth be known regulars wager on what and who will not be spared. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Trump took a hit in the first Act. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Biden took a hit in the second. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But it was a sucker punch outside of politics during the first Act - angering the dickens out of me - that triggered a spontaneous couple of "Boos" from me - loud enough for those seated near to hear, and earning a soft poke and by-name scold from my wife. [Audience laughter drowned my disapproval so draw your own conclusions as to crowd.]</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The offensive line came from Scrooge while seated at a letter writing desk ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"Dear Elon, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Just stop!" </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"Boo. Booooo." [Which I have never previously done, ever, in public.]</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Stop what?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Building electric vehicles? No. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Embarrassing NASA? No.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Being a philanthropist? No. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Dreaming of what's next? No.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Safeguarding free speech on X? Of course. What else could the dis be for?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">With near certainty, the creator of this entertaining production, who plays Scrooge, was not out laying wreaths Saturday. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And, come to think of it, in the near dozen or so performances attended through the last 34 years do I recall a favorable nod to veterans; which could easily be done in this liberal interpretation.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Poke the politicians. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Punch them - hard.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I don't care. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Fair enough.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Anything - however subtle and especially in these parlous times though granted "free speech" - disparaging our Constitution is intolerable.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Constitution is not a political document. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It is a charter for a way of life. The greatest way of life known to mankind on Earth. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Freedom. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So monumental the document, oath (to it) is required of all public servants - civilian and military - as measure to preserve. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A way of life I have rather enjoyed and devoted a significant part of my adult life in uniform safeguarding; as have many in my immediate and extended family.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"Dear Ebenezer, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Elon fights to safeguard (y)our Constitution - rights and all - even when playing the fool. Just stop!"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I boo'ed on behalf of the wreath earning dead. And patriots. And every American. And everyone dreaming of becoming an American. And out of sense of duty - (my) oath to Constitution. No apology. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No 'Bah humbug' from me.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Thanks, Charles. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Merry Christmas! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8E8VmdLjuw8dmgkRWkWyROGtn1pSOJEdltNfQSfy9H-AdRKamN-q72ctLHuJypBsiDpyktkux0hu2lygmt_ohZsdoVNucb0LpswlUOBumkO5QamSTh0gE7vLM5mUe_6koQ585FaNnFCbMlsce8ToUJ7sSYlqOUcoQbOY6JceBJn6fP3eV93FaY06Ud4/s3607/IMG_9630.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2319" data-original-width="3607" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr8E8VmdLjuw8dmgkRWkWyROGtn1pSOJEdltNfQSfy9H-AdRKamN-q72ctLHuJypBsiDpyktkux0hu2lygmt_ohZsdoVNucb0LpswlUOBumkO5QamSTh0gE7vLM5mUe_6koQ585FaNnFCbMlsce8ToUJ7sSYlqOUcoQbOY6JceBJn6fP3eV93FaY06Ud4/w640-h412/IMG_9630.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div><p style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Post Script: Otherwise, a terrific play. Incredible, actually! If ever in the Raleigh-Durham area during year's end make a point for tickets - get them early. </i></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Note: Paintings ... small watercolors done plein air, by the author, on location NorthWest New Jersey Veterans Cemetery. </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-3888357698874574412023-12-14T15:24:00.001-05:002023-12-14T15:29:27.570-05:00AMERICA'S CLIMATE CRISIS<p><b><span style="font-size: large;">AMERICA'S CLIMATE CRISIS</span></b></p><p><span>By Andy Weddington</span></p><p><span>Thursday, 14 December 2023</span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Common sense in an uncommon degree is what the world calls wisdom. </i></span>- Samuel Taylor Coleridge</p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Science.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Whether you like it or not, Earth's climate changes. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That is indisputable fact.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There's no escape. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mars, maybe, but not during my lifetime.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPeXVl37pDBv_s4O_AEbylLD5TNIoonVVaLfzrykQfFdyPEeulnmGQL3J7RUmhOys40hj8K8zxX3tdZKFbTT8TA_KRlN4YP2ntjgc5btUUOi0-mdNH4WGGAiBzDScO5YDHVPDhuocRINzBHrmuBjj7DdeidjGAjPMqY1Wf0Sw5dQ-y1pogKkitUyRPXkw/s2388/IMG_4628.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1668" data-original-width="2388" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPeXVl37pDBv_s4O_AEbylLD5TNIoonVVaLfzrykQfFdyPEeulnmGQL3J7RUmhOys40hj8K8zxX3tdZKFbTT8TA_KRlN4YP2ntjgc5btUUOi0-mdNH4WGGAiBzDScO5YDHVPDhuocRINzBHrmuBjj7DdeidjGAjPMqY1Wf0Sw5dQ-y1pogKkitUyRPXkw/w400-h280/IMG_4628.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Climate change, crisis de jour, is fiction.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Human invention.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Made up. Out of thin air. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivDecrMb6mPRQGuOROSklOGbW3ql8fC15nh89l0qmZupdryfc2R3Qe3EC8F19kAGPgOSAZuJRy94iueI6FLXQVm0jygNjWPWhOG9BAacbvh9X_QIlZL6f_OCQnWe_mzmFosw-P41LYqKvGmLn5QLn3CACuSHgJ2XuXI4TPTk8w4NN83Y1exmJcQmfVrlM/s2388/IMG_4626.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1668" data-original-width="2388" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivDecrMb6mPRQGuOROSklOGbW3ql8fC15nh89l0qmZupdryfc2R3Qe3EC8F19kAGPgOSAZuJRy94iueI6FLXQVm0jygNjWPWhOG9BAacbvh9X_QIlZL6f_OCQnWe_mzmFosw-P41LYqKvGmLn5QLn3CACuSHgJ2XuXI4TPTk8w4NN83Y1exmJcQmfVrlM/w400-h280/IMG_4626.jpeg" width="400" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">Driven by and to satisfy (selfish) innate yearns: control and greed.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Simple as that. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The actual climate crisis in America (and globally) is grounded in gray matter; fog - cognitive deprivation and pollution. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Because well under 50% of today's youth believe in the value of a college education (that's not), I call this developing theory 'The Three Degrees Below Common Sense' (BA/BS (how appropriate); Masters; Doctorate). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The endowed with common sense, the majority, have wisely figured out academia today is not while those pursuing degrees depart, increasingly, from independent thought, critical analysis, logic, and common sense and more towards agenda (to seize control and amass wealth). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Of course, there's micro outliers. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Humanity's saviors. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But, for now, macro is problematic. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Somewhat of crisis, actually. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As for now, degrees open doors.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ah ha, that will change.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It's going to change. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I cannot predict weather. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Though offer forecast.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When survival, another innate yearn, defaults to common sense. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Greater than 50% chance next year; destructive weather probable. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-58561455388882808872023-12-07T08:32:00.000-05:002023-12-07T08:32:31.873-05:00THE GOP DEBATE AND WHO AND WHAT THE HUCK?<p><b><span style="font-size: large;">THE GOP DEBATE AND WHO AND WHAT THE HUCK?</span></b></p><p><span>By Andy Weddington</span></p><p><span>Thursday, 07 December 2023</span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">I would describe myself as a 'total conservative - a conscientious one.'</span></i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span>- Mike Huckabee</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At this juncture, studying a debate is much like analyzing a landscape - plein air - before putting stroke to canvas.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That is, resolve the big pieces - first. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I've not settled on anyone for President. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But I do have one requirement: By word and deed they cannot be presenting signs of dementia.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, an objective big picture take of last night ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Chris Christie: He shut down a bridge, during rush hour, between New York and New Jersey to punish the citizenry. And during covid closed the shore then beached himself to bask. Whales of bad decisions stemming from anger and privilege. Signs enough unfit for office. Polls terrible, anyway. Why was he on stage? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Nikki Haley: Already beholden to big business. When challenged (by Ramaswamy) she could not name three provinces in Ukraine - where she supports sending billion$ more and possibly U. S. forces. Granted, I could not come up with three either but I'm not running for President. She was not prepared. Had she rattled off three without batting an eye, impressive. She did not. What else fundamental does she not know? She was easier to look at than Christie.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Vivek Ramaswamy: Smartest guy in the room. Absolutely on stage. He knows the issues and presents them simply and understandably. He is articulate and smooth. But there rests a problem. Still hanging in the air is the stench and disaster of another smooth talker - Obama (and he's still hanging around). Fair comparison or not, people are leery. And his relative youth discloses skin a bit too thin. To stay calm and quiet while being ridiculed requires strength. When replying stay on point without personalizing and besmirching. He'd be magnetic. But he's polarizing now. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ron De Santis: The only veteran and it shows. He, too, knows the issues and presents them simply and understandably with strong common sense courses of action. As governor has proved fearless and gets things done. Competency not in question. His shortcoming, at least on television, is missing the Reagan and Trump charisma. Even Clinton had charisma going for him. Charisma can be linked to basic personality - extrovert/introvert. He seems the introvert. Does charisma have anything to do with performing as President? Superficially, certainly. Substantively, hardly. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Donald Trump: Absent. He won, again, anyway. What will be shocking is if his polling lead does not expand. Trump has charisma in spades. And hearts, diamonds, and clubs. Chrisite commented Trump would be convicted on federal charges. How does he know? That hardly sounds like due process and innocent until proved guilty. In fact it sounds a lot like closing a bridge and the beach. Donald Trump is no Saint nor he is the criminal maniacally portrayed by the opposition and haters. And he's not in the Epstein flight logs otherwise those would have been published eight years ago. The enemy battlecry now is, if re-elected, he'll retaliate. Well, do not confuse enforcing law to restore order - the foundation of civility, of a Republic - as retaliation. Trump is the unapologetic patriot of the bunch. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This morning arrived text asking who I thought would be Trump's pick for VP.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Thinking about that question and more for weeks, my take ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Christie and Haley go home.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">De Santis - Secretary State.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ramaswamy - Attorney General.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Lieutenant General Michael Flynn (U. S. Army, Retired and wrongly screwed over as National Security Advisor for Trump) - Secretary of Defense.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For Vice President, a curve ball ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mike Huckabee.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Who? And what the Huck?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Some remember him. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For those who do not ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He's 68. Successful governor (Arkansas - where his daughter now governs). Previous runs for President fizzled but so goes politics - timing. Morally sound. Man of God. Beholds to Constitution. Common Sense. Personable. Likable. Proven leader. He could step into the Oval Office tomorrow. But as capable as Mike Huckabee, he cannot get where he ought be unless first Trump's ticket mate. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Those my views. If you don't like them, I'm not going to change them. Failing to engage, to speak up and speak against wrong is cowardice. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Do not be a coward; it's so not American (as proved 82 years ago this date). </span></p><p><span><br /></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-43614216511506222452023-12-01T14:09:00.002-05:002023-12-01T14:09:20.330-05:00HANNITY'S GREAT RED STATE BLUE STATE DEBACLE<p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>HANNITY'S GREAT RED STATE BLUE STATE DEBACLE</b></span></p><p>By Andy Weddington</p><p>Friday, 01 December 2023</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>It's tough campaigning, kissing hands and shaking babies.</i> </span>- Pat Paulsen</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Upfront disclaimer ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have not watched what is called news in more than three years.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Since Elon Musk assumed control of Twitter, rebranded X, unleashing free speech, I peruse the spectrum of personalities and posts to analyze through common sense filters and draw pragmatic conclusions. [The purpose of the First Amendment.]</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That Elon, this week, told some in corporate America attempting to blackmail him to, "Go f-ck yourself," escalated, eXponentially, his credibility and commitment to the Constitution. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In fact, his courageous, determined, fearless, principled, trailbreaking ways calls to mind characteristics, traits, and principles of the Founding Fathers. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To that point, the first AI conversation of interest to me is Thomas Jefferson and Elon Musk; seemingly sharing rare depths of superior intellect and leadership qualities. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, there's truth to be realized on X. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I care about politics only to the extent of wanting representatives committed to America, that there is a capable force of rough men standing watch 24/7 ready to close enemy health records, and I can be left alone to go about our way of life knowing our country safe, respected, and yes feared. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I have no candidate in mind.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As to red and blue ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps you recall from grade school they're two of three primary colors and when mixed make for violet - ranging from beautiful blue to red violets. [Violet's complement being the primary yellow.]</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In politics, red and blue makes mud. And green. They're all yellow. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, to last evening ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We opened a new two pounds can of extra large roasted and salted peanuts. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Think about that symbolism; it was serendipitous. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But nuts, vice popcorn, proved the right choice. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">First, at closing, the overwhelming takeaway (for me): Your teenage daughter is safe with Ron DeSantis. And never leave Gavin Newsom alone with your teenage daughter; literally and figuratively. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Hannity's slides, of numbers, comparing California and Florida pummeled Newsom. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Silence would have sufficed to dispatch Newsom. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But Desantis's precise, true complementary repartee and Newsom's dumb retorts destroyed him.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Newsom, for 90 minutes, did not answer a question. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He couldn't.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And DeSantis did a respectable job reminding the audience why Newsom couldn't answer a question. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Creep factor.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Always heed gut and hackles. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Newsom in spades. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">President? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Never would be too soon. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">DeSantis, a Navy man, seems okay.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">President?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He'd rise to the occasion; that's what military folk do.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Trump?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He's sort of in the middle.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But polling so far in front of the pack, Republican and Democrat, at this point reelection seems certain.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">By knock out, DeSantis.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For Newsom, debacle; he's out. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Hannity placed, as moderator should. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Finally, </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">On set, Florida and California flags. Unless I missed it, stars and stripes absent. Those colors, for which many have sacrificed and died, the first sign of united. Fix it! </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-16295014179001488852023-11-21T11:34:00.000-05:002023-11-21T11:34:42.285-05:00SIX FOR BRUNCH<p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>SIX FOR BRUNCH </b></span></p><p>By Andy Weddington</p><p>Tuesday, 21 November 2023</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Alzheimer's caregivers are heroes.</i> </span>- Leeza Gibbons</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Saturday morning past sat six for brunch.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The dining room tastefully arranged with a dozen or so simple yet elegantly set tables; nary open seat. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Our table - five women and me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The youngest a decade my senior and guess the oldest some 25 years or more of life. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The youngest and I, strangers, had something in common - sound of mind. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The others, too, shared commonality - varying types and states of dementia.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A young, smiling waitress approached to take orders.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Correctly, one-by-one, ladies first. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Cheery. So patient. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Last the waitress addressed the woman to my right, "Ma'am, would you like a cinnamon bun?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"No thank you. I'm not hungry and they're too big and I don't like them much, anyway."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For too many menu choices and confusion, I helped with the rest of her order.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Turning attention to me, I asked for a cinnamon bun and told the woman who had just turned one down we'd split it. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When the waitress left back to small talk. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The youngest, to my left (of clear mind), helped me engage the others.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Challenging, most of the time.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We kept it light - about homes, families, lines of work before retiring, and interests and hobbies.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Lots of laughter. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Genuine calm and joy. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">More than lots of repetition. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We listened as if each time the first. Those not clear of mind none the wiser.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Patience.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The waitress returned with drinks, and placed the cinnamon bun to my right. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I faced left to answer a question. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A minute or two later I reached for the cinnamon bun but the plate clean.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The ladies across from me laughing. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"I thought our plan was to split it?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"It was good!"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"But you said you weren't hungry, they were too big, and you didn't like them."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"I don't remember."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">More laughing around the table.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Meals delivered.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And more small talk. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">More of what had already been said. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Moot, the socializing important. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Obvious, though not at all surprising, was the complexity of discourse, any topic, possible with the woman not dealing with dementia.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She was pleasant and bright, informed, thoughtful and precise. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Conversation with the others, limited and shallow, interesting but in a different way. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Their vibrant histories and skills and talents slipping away; forever. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To point, not so many months ago I crafted a Hemingway-like six words short story as summary to explain to those not familiar with dementia: Mom diagnosed Alzheimer's. Family suffers disease. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But music penetrates their fog - reaches the soul. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Some still dance; as if no one's watching.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Turn off the music and lights dim. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That cinnamon bun devouring woman to my right?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mom.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Thanksgiving Day she will again sit to my immediate right - at the table in our dining room set for eight; family all - others of sound mind (I presume). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There's not going to be a cinnamon bun on Thursday but I assured mom she may eat all the chocolate ice cream (favorite) she wants - after dinner. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Through childlike sparkle in eye and big grin, "You're no fun!"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mom still knows me but these days refers to me as "the boss."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">She knows, generally speaking, I take care of things but little understands all that entails ensuring her safety, well-being, and happiness. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yet somewhere in there she knows. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I sense it - at times - like when we wander the park.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFril1d7JnRuW3OBgqe3HxAePWHezp0CRUjwGSYGQNGqU5SEN34SiwYRknJAt0WduLP6usWfB0w2fJF68WZih2AK3_zkPScm-EdLHoELlA4VuT0-74mbEvfdxtNVe3V4At49KbbeDjZhVlSj7Mt13EVDDHtNQRdjEW9mliQI5kzJ2DySkHa6qU3-zL6uE/s4032/IMG_7845.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFril1d7JnRuW3OBgqe3HxAePWHezp0CRUjwGSYGQNGqU5SEN34SiwYRknJAt0WduLP6usWfB0w2fJF68WZih2AK3_zkPScm-EdLHoELlA4VuT0-74mbEvfdxtNVe3V4At49KbbeDjZhVlSj7Mt13EVDDHtNQRdjEW9mliQI5kzJ2DySkHa6qU3-zL6uE/w300-h400/IMG_7845.jpeg" width="300" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Life!</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For these oddly rewarding times, and so much more, grateful. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Happy Thanksgiving! </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-19184830110270640202023-11-05T10:21:00.000-05:002023-11-05T10:21:34.361-05:00CHEATER, CHEATER PUMPKIN EATER<p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>CHEATER, CHEATER PUMPKIN EATER</b></span></p><p>By Andy Weddington</p><p>Sunday, 05 November 2023</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">A thing worth having is a thing worth cheating for. </span></i>- W. C. Fields</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The big jack-o-lantern I carved with a simple happy face still rests atop a small white wrought iron decorative table on the front porch. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Endurance a repeat of last year - eventually taking the collapsing decor to the woods for the animals and insects to devour. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As to the carve, I didn't cheat - went old school with black magic marker and a butcher and paring knife. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Then seasoned and slow-roasted the seeds. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I remember the day when the personified squash couldn't make it through Halloween night - porch pirate (term invented since) pranksters snatching and smashing in the street. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Our neighborhood today is different. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Or the youngsters just have not yet aged into prankster phase. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We did leave a couple hefty bowls of candy on the porch - with sign suggesting one or two - trusting in the honor system. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But cheaters wiped them out.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The jack-o-lantern witnessed. He's mute. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A couple of cheating related stories in recent news caught my eye. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">One about a male playing in a girls field hockey game who inflicted considerable damage on a girl's face - fracture, teeth knocked out, bruising, etc. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ridiculous. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Males are dominating females in the swimming pool, bicycling, on courts and fields, and on stage - in beauty pageants. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yes, beauty pageants. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Puzzling (to me) is why the females continue to compete?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The other story is about some sort of signal stealing brouhaha by the University of Michigan football team.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A coach was caught. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Puzzling (to me) is why this is an issue?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I played football in youth. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In fact, a couple of those years my dad (a quite good high school player) was head coach.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He taught fundamental football - hard tackling and blocking and punishing running. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He designed the offense's plays. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">His lesson to the team: If every boy carries out his assignment, every play is a touchdown. In fact, boys, we can tell the defense where we're going and if you carry out your assignment we score. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That was his theory. Mastery of the basic skills of the game. We won. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Granted college (and pro) football is another level but hard tackling and blocking and punishing running better than the opponent required. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Stolen signals?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ho hum. So what. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Theft. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Cheating.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Getting an edge on the opposition. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Call it what you will but it goes on in everything. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Intellectual property.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Is that what a secret signal in football amounts to?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Rather amusing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">During World War II the Allies, unbeknownst to the enemy, got their hands on a German enigma machine and broke their secret signals. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In all my reading of World War II I don't recall any allegations of cheating by the Americans and Allies. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That was theft of intellectual property.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Long ago I walked away from spending irreplaceable time watching sports.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sportsmanship. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mature boys facing off with girls? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Will even a death end such craziness? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Football signals so secret there's firestorm?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sports is not war; despite coaches and players using the analogy on game day. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Life is not fair and in many a sense is war. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Instinct is to survive.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">If instinct to survive is not clever and strong enough to ward off hostiles then guess what. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There's real war underway across the sea. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Secrets and theft and trickery along with hard tackling and blocking and punishing running will determine winner - the survivor. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Whines of foul?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Hahaha. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Mask secret signals with dummy secret signals, dummy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Get Smart! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Or perish. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And for Pete's sake, eat seasoned slow-roasted pumpkin seeds. They're good for the brain, and brawn, and just may keep you from getting beat to a pulp. </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-43133553447216307972023-10-23T17:22:00.001-04:002023-10-23T17:22:33.772-04:00KA-BOOOOOOOOM!<p><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>KA-BOOOOOOOOM!</strong></span><br /><span>by Andy Weddington</span><br />Monday, 23 October 2023<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span><i><span style="font-size: large;">All terrorism is theater. </span></i>Raymond Kelly</span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This time forty-two years ago I was assigned as Platoon Commander for Weapons, Golf Company, 2d Battalion 6th Marines (G2/6) aboard USS Saipan - LHA-2. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We were tip of the spear in the Mediterranean. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Marine Amphibious Ready Group/32d Marine Amphibious Unit (MARG 3-81/32d MAU) was ordered to be a visible presence just off shore following the assassination of Anwar Sadat, Egypyt's president, on 06 October 1981. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Middle East, surprise, surprise, a powder keg. Cooler heads prevailed. U.S. Marines did not land. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Two years later Marines, ashore in Beirut, were attacked. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">First published 23 October 2009, 26 years after the attack, and annually since. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Forty years. Much has changed. Much has not changed.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em><span><br /></span></em></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em><span><br /></span></em></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em><span><br /></span></em></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em><span><br /></span></em></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em><span>This is not a battle between the United States of America and terrorism, but between the free and democratic world and terrorism.</span></em><span> </span></span><span>Tony Blair</span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>In the summer of 1982 Lebanon requested United States military presence in their country. The purpose was to serve as a peacekeeping force between warring factions of Muslims and Christians. The 24th Marine Amphibious Unit, home-based at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, received orders on March 24th, 1983 to deploy to Beirut. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>United States, French, and Italian military forces (Multi-National Force or MNF) initially provided some stability in Beirut. But as diplomacy fell apart, Muslim factions began to perceive the Marines as siding with the Christians and, therefore, as the enemy. Consequently, the Muslims began to target and harass Marine positions with small arms, mortar, and artillery fire. Marines, adhering to their mission of "peacekeeping" and "presence," countered with appropriate measures only against clearly identified targets. In short, the "Rules of Engagement" (ROE) were restrictive--but commensurate with the situation; supposedly. I know, the situation and the ROE was much more complicated and remains debatable, to say the least, but is not relevant to the scope of today's Commentary. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Since the United States was not looking to escalate her commitment to Lebanon, the Marines did not conduct offensive combat operations. And despite the Marines best efforts, to remain neutral and to protect themselves in a less-than-ideal "defensive" posture (in an absurd politically selected not militarily-driven site), the situation continued to deteriorate. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Then, in the early morning hours twenty-six years ago on this date--23 October 1983, KA-BOOOOOOOOM! Two hundred forty one warriors--220 Marines, 18 Sailors, and 3 Soldiers--were killed by a bomb-laden, terrorist-driven truck attack that destroyed Battalion Landing Team 1st Battalion/8th Marines (BLT 1/8) four-story headquarters building. Many of those killed died while sleeping--buried under tons of twisted steel, chucks of concrete, and rubble. Minutes later and only a few miles away a similar truck bomb was used to attack the French contingency of peacekeepers. Their eight-story building was leveled killing 58 paratroopers.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>At the time, I was a First Lieutenant assigned to Company F, 2nd Recruit Training Battalion, Recruit Training Regiment, Marine Corps Recruit Depot, Parris Island, South Carolina--one of two Depots where America makes her Marines. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>With the tail end of one Series and one complete Series under my belt as an Assistant Series Commander, I was a Series Commander--responsible for the well-being and supervising the training of one other officer, 12-15 Drill Instructors, and four platoons each of about 65 recruits. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>The Series was just completing the three-week second phase--marksmanship training and rifle qualification--and was wrapping up their service week, commonly referred to as "Mess and Maintenance"--a time when recruits contribute to the running and upkeep of the Depot and get a small taste of life in the Corps when not training. Before the hectic pace of third phase (final four weeks of training) began, I had managed to slip away from the Depot for a short weekend visit home to North Carolina.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>In 1983 October 23rd fell on a Sunday. That morning I rose early to return to Parris Island and turned on the only television cable news program of the day--CNN. The anchors were announcing breaking news from Beirut. There had been a huge explosion in the U. S. Marine sector and information--some conflicting--was pouring in.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Once a member of 2/6 and on the Mediterranean deployment rotation with the 8th Marines, I remember my first thought--BLT 1/8 was on duty in Beirut. Not only did I have friends in the battalion but mere months earlier I had told recruits (soon to be Marines) that after leaving Parris Island and completing their specialty training some would soon find themselves in Beirut. Some would be assigned to 1/8. They were. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Before departing home for the five hour ride down I-95 and weaving South Carolina low-country back roads for Parris Island, casualty numbers were starting to trickle in. The initial number was less than 20 when I walked out of my parent's home. Throughout my ride I was able to tune in radio stations reporting the news. Casualties continued to climb--no names just numbers. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>By the time I reached my small apartment in Port Royal and turned on the television confirmed casualties were well over 100. As we know today, that would not even be half of what was to come. Sobering. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Americans, and especially Marines, were asking, "How in the hell could this happen?" A comprehensive investigation would answer that question. But the truck was not unlike many that had become a routine sight to Marines--positioned at the Beirut International Airport as a show of "presence/peacekeepers." There was no call for alarm; until mere seconds before hostile intent was realized. At that point, sentries were helpless; not in position nor did they have the means to stop the barreling bomb on wheels. On a macro level, the unit's location had nothing to do, whatsoever, with military strategy and tactics. Plain and simple--the Marines were targets. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Eight days later, on Monday, 31 October, General Paul X. Kelley, USMC, 28th Commandant of the Marine Corps (1983-1987), addressed the Senate Armed Services Committee. For the purposes of this Commentary, I felt it best not to summarize General Kelley's entire statement but to cite passages relevant to today's post. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>In the words of General Kelley...</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>"As I mentioned previously, the assigned mission of the MNF, simply stated, was "presence." It should be clearly understood that this was basically a diplomatic/political mission, not a military one in the classic sense, and the positioning of Marine forces at Beirut International Airport was not driven by tactical considerations. Moreover, the threats at the time, as reported to the Marines by the intelligence available did not require tactical deployment. Indeed, the mission of "presence" mitigated against such measures. Put another way, the Marines had to be seen by the Lebanese people.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>I would now like to describe what occurred on Sunday morning, October 23, and why we believe that only extraordinary security could have met that massive and unanticipated threat. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>At daybreak, a five-ton capacity Mercedes truck (roughly the size of a large dump truck and a type commonly seen at the Beirut International Airport) entered a public parking lot adjacent to the four-story, steel-reinforced concrete and sandbagged building which housed the headquarters elements of BLT 1/8. After making a complete circle of the parking lot for acceleration, and while travelling at a high speed this truck: </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>• crashed through the outer defense of a barbed wire emplacement,</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>• moved at high speed between two sandbagged sentry posts,</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>• passed through a gate in an iron fence-jumped over a sewer pipe which had been placed as an obstacle to impede the forward movement of vehicles, plowed through a sandbag barrier, hit with precision a four-foot wide passenger entry into the lobby where its cargo, estimated by the Defense Intelligence Agency to be 5,000 pounds of explosives, detonated. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>The entire event, which can best be described as the delivery by a suicidal driver of a 5,000-pound truck-bomb at very high speed, took approximately six seconds from start to finish. Rough calculations indicate that it would require a massive concrete wall to stop a vehicle of this weight and travelling at this speed. It is of particular importance to note that the Commander's security was oriented toward the threat of the past several months, i.e., artillery, rockets, mortars, small arms and car bombs. In this context, his security efforts had been successful. Obviously, the Commander's security arrangements were inadequate to counter this form of "kamikaze" attack. But, we have yet to find any shred of intelligence which would have alerted a reasonable and prudent commander to this new and unique threat. There was not even the indication of a capability to undertake such a monumental and precise action. General Tannous, the Commander of the Lebanese Armed Forces, informed me that he cannot recall, in his vast experience, a terrorist attack of the type which hit the headquarters of BLT 1/ 8 on 23 October 1983. In his opinion, it represents a new and unique terrorist threat, one which could not have been reasonably anticipated by any Commander. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Almost simultaneously, a smaller vehicle approached an eight-story apartment building to the north of Beirut International Airport which housed the French contingent. Since this building is on a busy thoroughfare, there would be no reason to suspect its intention. As it approached the building, it accelerated, took a sharp right into the driveway, and forced entry into an underground garage-where it exploded. During a personal conversation, General Cann, the Commander of the French contingent of the MNF, informed me he had no intelligence which would have warned him of this threat, as did General Angioni, the Commander of the Italian contingent."</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>General Kelley went on to offer insight that has since proven to be quite prophetic. His words--his predictions--should make us all take pause and wonder if our country's leadership was and is listening and paying attention. The general went on to say...</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>"I believe it important to recognize that there is sufficient evidence to conclude that both incidents were not suicidal acts by some individual fanatic. They were instead, well planned and professionally executed acts of terrorism which appear designed to drive our U.S. presence from Lebanon.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>In closing, Mr. Chairman, let me say that the subject of increased terrorism against all Americans around the world may be one of the most serious problems which could be addressed by this Committee on a priority basis. This unprecedented, massive "kamikaze" attack was not against young Marines, Sailors, and Soldiers--it was a vicious, surprise attack against the United States of America and all we stand for in the free world.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Let me say, with all of the emphasis I can, that there are skilled and professional terrorists out there right now who are examining our vulnerabilities and making devices which are designed to kill Americans, lots of Americans around the world, in further acts of mass murder by terrorism. Let there be no doubt about it.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>I would hope that the Congress would use this incident of cruel and premeditated mass murder to help us determine a way which tell nations that they cannot export and support terrorists who kill innocent Americans with impunity. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>The perpetrators and supporters of this challenge to the rights of free men everywhere must be identified and punished. I will have little sleep until this happens.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Thank you." </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>In addition to a number of the young Marines killed whom I had seen through recruit training less than six months earlier, a friend-- First Lieutenant William S. ("Scotty") Sommerhof, USMC--also died that morning. I first met Scotty one evening in 1982 at Northwoods Tavern--in the day, a pub-type eatery and watering-hole in Jacksonville, NC, frequented mostly by young bachelor officers assigned to the Marine Base, Camp Lejeune and Marine Corps Air Station, New River. I don't remember many single women patronizing the place but we Marines sure had fun. I remember Scotty, then a rifle platoon commander with 1/8, as quite out-going, spirited, and a guy who enjoyed a good time; as we all did. I learned Scotty's home town was Springfield, Illinois, and he was a graduate of the University of Illinois Naval ROTC program. One tale I remember about him was, while a college student, only Coca-Cola machines graced the NROTC building. Scotty preferred Pepsi--but had no success trying to remedy that situation. As I recall, as a tribute to him, the NROTC unit had a Pepsi machine placed in the building with an appropriately inscribed plaque recognizing First Lieutenant's Sommerhof's selfless service and sacrifice to Corps and Country. </span><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmu7PEm4AkhgA6RCU8DtMEXxSPHF3l01GYUomewC8yebpVloOdPuMJMaRYWMac_XyL_Mo11TzUms5zPg_tHY1JEDDPt8-X1nXymE81eIHIFbFwatNLLJrOcZ-OsMtPultm3XTZlrzn78/s1600/Scotty1.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTmu7PEm4AkhgA6RCU8DtMEXxSPHF3l01GYUomewC8yebpVloOdPuMJMaRYWMac_XyL_Mo11TzUms5zPg_tHY1JEDDPt8-X1nXymE81eIHIFbFwatNLLJrOcZ-OsMtPultm3XTZlrzn78/s640/Scotty1.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">First Lieutenant "Scotty" Sommerhof, USMC</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Beirut, Lebanon - Summer 1983</div><p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9vq0qzOcpu6rb40jVb0eydp9KZFjO40ApRO1Vhl9SA6Xo3HO1GiVMoGM6lhFNLwieavi1Op4WEBizmduq86AAXBr8sm3DjFmTm3UjFSp-25w3BZdHNq1qftfEtA4j2BRoAdnZcv0Ob2E/s1600/Scotty2.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="506" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9vq0qzOcpu6rb40jVb0eydp9KZFjO40ApRO1Vhl9SA6Xo3HO1GiVMoGM6lhFNLwieavi1Op4WEBizmduq86AAXBr8sm3DjFmTm3UjFSp-25w3BZdHNq1qftfEtA4j2BRoAdnZcv0Ob2E/s640/Scotty2.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">USMC Officer Candidate "Scotty" Sommerhof</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">NROTC Bulldog - Summer 1979</div><div style="text-align: center;">2nd row, 2nd from left (circled in red)</div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><span>I phoned the Illini NROTC Unit earlier this week to check on that Pepsi machine. Sadly, I was told today there is, yet again, only Coke machines. Scotty would not be happy. But, he would be humbled and honored to know his name is the first one on the unit's "Wall of Tribute." And so continues the memory of a good man and fallen Marine. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>I've no doubt that many who will read today's Commentary, that were on duty that October morning 26 years ago, will recall exactly where they were and what they were doing when hearing the news about the bombing. I know I will never forget--the 23rd also happens to be my youngest brother's birthday. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>On that Sunday morning, a creative enemy had, yet again, changed the rules and methods of warfare. Our fight against a patient, pesky, and creative enemy continues. Though the enemy enjoys an occasional "victory," they are losing the war. And only through strength and resilience, despite painful times, will America defeat this challenge to our way of life once and for all. The equation is a simple one: Work + Cost (Sacrifice) = Freedom. For Americans have learned, since our country's founding, that freedom comes with an enormous price tag--blood and lives. And yet there is no shortage of men and women willing to risk all in the name of preserving democracy and freedom. For those brave souls their countrymen owe admiration, respect, support, and gratitude. Nothing worth fighting for is ever easy or free; never--ever. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>In his televised Oval Office address to the country on October 27th, 1983 President Ronald Reagan said, "Sam Rayburn once said that freedom is not something a nation can work for once and win forever. He said it's like an insurance policy; its premiums must be kept up to date. In order to keep it, we have to keep working for it and sacrificing for it just as long as we live. If we do not, our children may not know the pleasure of working to keep it, for it may not be theirs to keep."</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Anyone in the current Administration or the country who believes apologies, extending an olive branch, and not making hostile lunatic captives "uncomfortable" (to prevent disaster) will end the assault on America and Americans is completely delusional. Those acts of "civility" in our culture are seen as weakness from our enemy's perspective. It is ridiculous, stupid, and more importantly dangerous to our national security and safety to believe there is a common foundation from which to assess and deal with an enemy whose culture and ideology is diametrically opposed to ours. That is precisely why they hate us--they see the world much differently. Only fools believe we are going to temper their hatred or otherwise change them. There is one logical conclusion: Terrorists are ruthless. Accordingly, they understand, respect, and fear power and ruthlessness--the way they should and must be fought and destroyed.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Perhaps it's time--actually past time--for our country's present leadership to carefully read General Kelley's entire statement; especially as to the determined enemy we face--his words as germane today as 26 years ago. It sure can't hurt. And then all pause and reflect on what has happened across the globe, courtesy of terrorists, since 23 October 1983. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>For whatever his faults and shortcomings, President Bush understood our maniacal enemy. He used every tool (maybe even stretching some) at his disposal to monitor, identify, disrupt, harass, hunt, generally make life miserable, capture, and kill them--around the clock--on his watch. Bravo!</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Fight's on, President Obama. Do not blink. Show no mercy.</span><br /><span></span><br /><strong><span>Post Script</span></strong><br /><span></span><br /><em><span>Also from President Reagan's speech...</span></em><br /><span></span><br /><span>"May I share something with you I think you'd like to know? It's something that happened to the Commandant of our Marine Corps, General Paul Kelley, while he was visiting our critically injured Marines in an Air Force hospital. It says more than any of us could ever hope to say about the gallantry and heroism of these young men, young men who serve so willingly so that others might have a chance at peace and freedom in their own lives and in the life of their country.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>I'll let General Kelley's words describe the incident. He spoke of a "young Marine with more tubes going in and out of his body than I have ever seen in one body. He couldn't see very well. He reached up and grabbed my four stars, just to make sure I was who I said I was. He held my hand with a firm grip. He was making signals, and we realized he wanted to tell me something. We put a pad of paper in his hand - and he wrote 'Semper Fi.'" </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Well, if you've been a Marine or if, like myself, you're an admirer of the Marines, you know those words are a battle cry, a greeting, and a legend in the Marine Corps. They're Marine shorthand for the motto of the Corps - "Semper Fidelis" - "always faithful." </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>General Kelley has a reputation for being a very sophisticated general and a very tough Marine. But he cried when he saw those words, and who can blame him? That Marine and all those others like him living and dead, have been faithful to their ideals. They've given willingly of themselves so that a nearly defenseless people in a region of great strategic importance to the free world will have a chance someday to live lives free of murder and mayhem and terrorism. I think that young Marine and all of his comrades have given every one of us something to live up to." </span><br /><span></span><br /><span><strong>Author's Endnotes</strong> (added 23 October 2012) </span><br /><br /><span>1. Early Saturday morning - at reveille, 01 October 1983, aboard U. S. Marine Corps Recruit Depot, Parris Island - 17-year old Recruit J. E. Hurst collapsed in the squadbay. Despite immediate and heroic actions by his Drill Instructors and soon arriving corpsmen (EMTs), Recruit Hurst died en route to the Naval Hospital in Beaufort. I was the Series Commander. And not a day has passed since that I've not thought about Recruit Hurst. </span><span>Twenty-two days later that terrorist attack in Beirut, Lebanon, killed hundreds - some young Marines with less than five months service I'd only months before seen through recruit training. </span><span>Recruit Hurst's fate was sealed at birth. He had a heart defect not detectable during military medical in-processing. Note: From 01 October 2013 - 30th Anniversary - Recruit Hurst, J. E. - Platoon 2095 <a href="http://acoloneloftruth.blogspot.com/2013/10/recruit-hurst-j-e-platoon-2095.html">http://acoloneloftruth.blogspot.com/2013/10/recruit-hurst-j-e-platoon-2095.html</a></span><br /><br /><span>2. </span><span>A few years ago, a couple of young Marines, Corporal Jonathan Yale and Lance Corporal Jordan Haerter, standing post in Iraq had mere seconds to react to stop a bomb-laden vehicle barreling toward their compound. Maybe they'd been taught the lessons of Beirut, I don't know. Their incredible selfless actions cost them their lives while saving the lives of dozens and dozens--mostly Iraqi; some of whom fled vice standing their ground with the Marines. Both Marines were awarded the Navy Cross. Heroes of our Corps, their story worth reading: </span><a href="http://acoloneloftruth.blogspot.com/2009/01/six-seconds.html"><span>http://acoloneloftruth.blogspot.com/2009/01/six-seconds.html</span></a><br /><br />3. On Tuesday, 11 September 2012 - with the attack on our consulate in Benghazi, Libya, and the killing of four Americans - including Ambassador Chris Stevens, terrorists reminded us they are still a force to be reckoned with. The American way of life remains under attack. Only through strength and resolve will we, the world's force of good, prevail. </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-70432019333270439352023-10-01T07:41:00.001-04:002023-10-01T07:41:43.212-04:00BREAST CANCER - AN AVERAGE GUY'S TAKE <p><strong><span style="font-size: large;">BREAST CANCER - AN AVERAGE GUY'S TAKE </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></strong><br />by Andy Weddington<br />Sunday 01 October 2023<br /><br /><br /><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em><br /></em></span><span><em><span style="font-size: large;">There can be life after breast cancer. The prerequisite is early detection. </span></em></span><span>Ann Jillian</span><br /><br /></div><p><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Today begins Breast Cancer Awareness Month.</span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">We have lost too many friends to the disease. None without valiant fight. One recently. Some continue to battle.</span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">And, like every year since, others we know diagnosed.</span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">So, again, in the name of public service, our experience with this disease republished below. My aim being to spurn but one frightened woman to get a lump, suspicious or not, checked.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Annual reminder is fine but individual awareness must be a matter of routine - regular checks. </span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Fifteen and a half years ago breast cancer changed life for my wife. And for me. Forever. </span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Though much of the horror of our ordeal rests in deep recesses of memory, sometimes it comes flooding back; triggered by mere thought of an odor, sight of someone (bald and pasty white) who appears amidst treatment, or conversation with someone battling any sort of cancer. Still there's a bit of angst as annual blood work day nears. Of course.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">The horrible disease, a global epidemic, is a heartless equal opportunity life-changer and killer. Breast cancer cares not about race, creed, age, socioeconomic class, social status, </span><span style="font-size: x-large;">nationality, political persuasion, nor</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> gender. Nor any other variable one can cite. If you think breast cancer will not touch your life at some point, think again.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Today's Commentary was first published 27 November 2009. Since and a</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">t this writing, family, friends, and friends of friends continue to be diagnosed, and still I feel obligated - a sense of duty - to share our experience because despite the hell there's eventually sweet life again; at least for many.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Advances understanding and treating breast cancer since our battle remarkable. Like laser-guided smart bombs striking specific targets, limiting if not eliminating collateral damage, scientists are figuring out how to precisely target specific cancer cells - sometimes saving patients pure hell. Money, too. Yet preventing the disease is the objective. There's still a long way to go.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">If, during our story, you think, laugh, think, cry, and think some more and, most importantly, seek consultation for a bothersome lump to calm that odd instinctive sense that something is not quite right then my job done.</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Forever life's changed when a doctor says ...</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">"You have cancer."</span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;">Pass along if you like.</span></span></span></p><p><span><span><span style="font-size: x-large;">For the 15th time ...</span></span></span></p><p><span><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>AN AVERAGE GUY'S TAKE ON SAVING "2ND BASE"</strong></span><br /><span>by Andy Weddington</span><br /><span>Friday, 27 November 2009</span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><br /></p><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em>Courage is the art of being the only one who knows you're scared to death!</em> </span><span>Earl Wilson</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Thirty-two years ago Meat Loaf released a tune called, "Paradise by the Dashboard Light." Included in the lengthy hit song was a radio broadcast of a baseball--make that "baseball"--game. The clever play-by-play was called by Phil Rizzuto (yes, one and the same--the all-star shortstop for the N.Y. Yankees and voice of the Yankees) and you had to listen closely to appreciate the gist of the song. It was about base-running alright but not on the diamond. The "game," as called by Rizzuto, went like this: "Ok, here we go, we got a real pressure cooker going here, two down, nobody on, no score, bottom of the ninth, there's the wind-up and there it is, a line shot up the middle, look at him go. This boy can really fly! He's rounding first and really turning it on now, he's not letting up at all, he's gonna try for second;...here he comes, he's out! No, wait, safe--safe at second base,...holy cow, I think he's gonna make it!..."</span><br /><span><br />Twenty-nine years after Meat Loaf's release, Kelly Rooney (1963-2006)--a wife and mother of five, lost her courageous fight against breast cancer. An inspiration to family and friends, Kelly kept a sense of humor during her ordeal and coined the breast cancer fight battle cry, "Save 2nd Base!" While crafting this Commentary I could not help but wonder if Kelly was a Meat Loaf fan and maybe owned a copy of his classic 1977 album "Bat Out of Hell." I bet she did.<br /><br />After reading the opening paragraph, I suspect most readers had a flashback or two to younger days and fond memories of a little "experience" by the dashboard light. Good times for sure--maybe even paradise. Well, wrap up the smiles and set the memories aside. It's time for the business of today's Commentary. Though a bit long this week it's important. Bear with me.<br /><br />Not quite two weeks ago an independent panel of government-appointed "experts" forming a task force released new recommendations addressing breast cancer early detection and screening techniques. Their alarming, polarizing views contradict long-standing, proactive measures advised by the American Cancer Society--who, by the way, has not changed their position. More about the task force shortly.<br /><br />Less than two years ago the only thing I knew about breast cancer was it happened to other people. And rarely to anyone I knew--even then I had no true understanding for the hell of a breast cancer diagnosis. Today I feel capable of giving a breast cancer seminar--at least from the perspective of a treatment program manager and round-the-clock caregiver.<br /><br />Late afternoon on the first Friday in March 2008 breast cancer was no longer something that happened to other people. An oncologist walked into the treatment room where my wife and I were seated and, looking as if he'd seen a ghost, told my wife her biopsy results indicated breast cancer. There was no mistake. We were dumbfounded. Then in shock. Then angry--but that passed quickly. All those emotions occurred within a minute or two. The doctor was in the room only a few more minutes and did not offer details. He handed us the report and told us sometimes the news he has to deliver is not so good but much is known about breast cancer and it's curable. He implied we were lucky. Then he suggested the sooner moving forward with treatment the better and left the room.<br /><br />That evening Marine Corps training kicked in and my mission began. With biopsy report in hand, I sat at the computer and began researching breast cancer. First, the macro. Then every confounding word, acronym, abbreviation, and number on my wife's two-page lab report. Not only was she going to fight breast cancer, we were going to fight it and there was not going to be a single element of the battle I did not completely understand.<br /><br />I learned our diagnosis was an aggressive form of breast cancer commonly referred to as "Triple Negative"--a malignancy not driven by hormones but triggered by genetic defect. From what I read, not especially good news. A glimmer of good news was it was Stage 1 borderline 2. An appointment with an oncology surgeon within a week confirmed my research. And she also confirmed a tough fight ahead and flagged my wife's records as "Urgent." Within a week our primary oncologist echoed the surgeon's assessment and seconded the recommended treatment protocol; an aggressive one. Clearly, the two skilled women knew exactly what they were doing.<br /><br />I will not take time to elaborate on grueling chemotherapy that stripped my wife of nearly every single hair on her body (there were a few hardy survivors), turned her skin a sick pasty white, left her with an equally sick odor that soap and perfume could only momentarily mask, zapped the spark from her eye and her energy, and, at times, despite powerful aprepitants, caused unimaginable nausea.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu_rYUyIQT-LJhZX_y5Ff40rp49LkH8-Z1-5uD2iP4Xzq7EDZdxxO4eNgLX3erOJEL6uXgbO01yaRM9pdsjA6EI9jD8jim-6-jJXGNsWo8mHq2B21neO_Dkzt6m4nWXfHXSg5kpjC1Cc4/s400/Linnea+left+arm+2.jpg" width="321" /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span>Chemotherapy</span></div><p><span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">Nor will I address the ordeal of a bi-lateral mastectomy, emotional acceptance and healing, painful physical rehabilitation, or the interesting conversation with a plastic surgeon who made it clear reconstruction is not a procedure--it is a challenging, uncomfortable process over an extended period of time that requires commitment. That conversation still lingers with us.</span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuggL_3FT0kcDY_iiL6Ll205wxuBAwBzKmoJmKw37MxNez5YneBuZkjcTxaDUCAiFUTZO1UQTJRu_SNu_Smb547ArWQdF-Yx0YIG6FpoikID0neQMbI-G8LLNTGyTDIqhuzPI5Y5QcaLE/s1600/Linnea+with+Spirometer.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuggL_3FT0kcDY_iiL6Ll205wxuBAwBzKmoJmKw37MxNez5YneBuZkjcTxaDUCAiFUTZO1UQTJRu_SNu_Smb547ArWQdF-Yx0YIG6FpoikID0neQMbI-G8LLNTGyTDIqhuzPI5Y5QcaLE/s400/Linnea+with+Spirometer.jpg" width="282" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span>Post surgery with spirometer</span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></p><div></div><p><span style="font-size: x-large;">Nor will I bore you with program manager and caregiver duties orchestrating medical appointments, mixing batches of L-Glutamine daily to combat neuropathy, carefully watching--day and night--for signs of adverse reaction after day-long chemotherapy sessions, cooking plain broiled chicken and O'Brien hash browns twice a day for nearly two straight months because it was the only food my wife could stomach (to this day, I can't stand either smell), and sundry other responsibilities I am trying my damnedest to forget. Slowly they fade.</span><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /><span>Thank goodness for family and friends whose notes of encouragement and gifts helped keep our sense of humor. Defiant T-shirts lightened up the clinic on chemotherapy days--"Cancer Sucks," "This is My Cancer Fightin' Shirt," and everyone's favorite, "Save 2nd Base!"--Meat Loaf would love that one. And thank goodness for sketching; it helped time pass and eased my mind.</span></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><p><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHS4qyCuZq-ksl5KJn21d6kPZdcp9FVzIVTZr8Uyc58WZV51GuZtuTq9gwkzzgbAPYHo-lvf059YNxP2V4zcC3U20nnbVaCUXH794wd7jf6MQJ6h1EkwTG3dqxPRV-6R2AMtboW9eUts/s1600/Home+with+drains+2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSHS4qyCuZq-ksl5KJn21d6kPZdcp9FVzIVTZr8Uyc58WZV51GuZtuTq9gwkzzgbAPYHo-lvf059YNxP2V4zcC3U20nnbVaCUXH794wd7jf6MQJ6h1EkwTG3dqxPRV-6R2AMtboW9eUts/s400/Home+with+drains+2.jpg" width="300" /></a></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span>Home recovering - with drains</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmooyWpI2NxL4LPoOjIJ47HpCM4ONAHScpti8ynxCgfpDzNhqhnMJx-LLBaRCBruHiLqlaE1nmMuAIQsrZe77RcxoObLUUHtaruxyCOljrzpYGeI81d0RpO1i6FVVCDcbS2TiwPfBwx0/s1600/Bartman+Flowers.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGmooyWpI2NxL4LPoOjIJ47HpCM4ONAHScpti8ynxCgfpDzNhqhnMJx-LLBaRCBruHiLqlaE1nmMuAIQsrZe77RcxoObLUUHtaruxyCOljrzpYGeI81d0RpO1i6FVVCDcbS2TiwPfBwx0/s400/Bartman+Flowers.jpg" width="280" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span>Greetings from well-wishers - big morale boost</span><br /><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div><div></div><div></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Now for the essence of what I learned about breast cancer--at least the top six.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>One: Breast cancer is an epidemic--the second leading cause of death in women. Annually, in the U. S. alone, more than 200,000 women will be diagnosed and 40,000 will die. One in eight women will be diagnosed at some point during their life and age is not a discriminator--the disease strikes the young, the middle-aged, and the old. So, the odds are pretty damn good someone in your family will be stricken with the disease.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Two: Breast Cancer steals second base.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Three: Breast cancer is not breast cancer is not breast cancer is not breast cancer is not breast cancer. Get the point?! First question when hearing someone has breast cancer, "What type?"</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Four: As there are many types of breast cancer there are as many treatment protocols. Every case is different--because people are different. And, doctor's have as many differing opinions as to how to treat--ultimately leaving the course of treatment up to the patient. Therefore, the second question, "What's the treatment decision?"</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Five: Regardless of type and treatment, breast cancer is serious business. It kills. But it's curable--sometimes.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Six: And, oh by the way, men are not immune to breast cancer.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Ten years ago, through self-exam (stomping my foot three times--loudly), my wife--not yet 40--detected a lump. A mammogram confirmed a suspicious mass and biopsy was inconclusive. The doctor recommended erring on the side of caution with surgery. The word "cancer" had not been mentioned and frankly it never crossed our minds--at least not mine. After all, cancer attacked others. The lump was benign--as expected.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Ten years later, again through self-exam (again, stomping my foot three times--loudly), my wife detected a lump--in the same location. A mammogram confirmed a mass. An ultrasound indicated something was not quite right. The doctor advised keeping a close eye on it and reporting any change in size, etc. In less than two months, through self-exam (three loud foot stomps), the lump was growing and fast. Another ultrasound confirmed significant growth.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>After biopsy the doctor told my wife he was 99.9% certain it was nothing to be concerned about but core tissue samples would make certain. "See you tomorrow," he said. That tomorrow was the last Friday in March a year ago. Doctors do not know everything--he was wrong; 100% wrong. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>My wife is alive with an excellent prognosis because she was conscientious about regular self-exams (three loud foot stomps), regular mammograms (three loud foot stomps), and did not ignore the lump (three loud foot stomps). She caught her aggressive form of breast cancer early.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>About two weeks ago the dopiest news of the year hit the streets. And, surprise, surprise, it came from a government task force--as mentioned in an opening paragraph. In case you missed it, The U. S. Preventive Services Task Force (whose position influences coverage of screening tests by Medicare and many insurance companies) recommended: </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>1. Most women in their 40s should not routinely get mammograms.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>2. Women 50 to 74 should get a mammogram every other year until they turn 75, after which the risks and benefits are unknown.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>3. The value of breast exams by doctors is unknown. And breast self-exams are of no value.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Now, let me be clear. I do not hold a medical degree. My "medical" training includes basic first aid for Marines tending to minor injuries incurred while living and training in the field, immediate care of some battlefield wounds, and how to administer CPR and apply the Heimlich maneuver. That's about it. But, to my credit, I hold an undergraduate degree, a Masters, and more importantly, a whole bunch of 'simple, North Carolina, small town boy' common sense. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>From my recent experience and perspective, the task force's "suggestions" are just plain dumb; especially the conclusion "And breast self-exams are of no value." It is difficult, no check that--make it "impossible" for me to believe even a half-wit would have their name and credentials associated with such a moronic statement. Unless there was "incentive" for lending expertise and influence; certainly not outside the realm of possibility. So, whether the task force membership was "incentivized" or it's an instance of wrong-headed group think, their recommendations are dumb. Really dumb. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>How ironic the group is called "The U. S. Preventive Services Task Force"--with an emphasis on "Preventive Services." Though they cite some sort of data behind their recommendations, remember the quip, "Lies, damned lies, and statistics"--popularized by Mark Twain. In humor rests much truth. And anyone with an understanding of nonparametric statistics knows you can shape numbers to support anything. Finally, is not the timing of the task force's announcement suspicious considering the president's rush to reform healthcare? Draw your own conclusions.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>The majority of independent medical experts I've heard interviewed about the task force's work agree, if followed, the recommendations will increase the death rate of women dying from breast cancer. Comforting, but that conclusion is common sense. In fact, polls taken after the task force's news release indicate, women, by some 76%, intend to ignore the recommendations. Smart ladies.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>I've heard the nonsensical arguments supporting the task force. One in particular being to reduce "false positives"--preventing anxiety, stress, fear, and panic of 'poor' women who wait a few days or maybe weeks for a biopsy result. Sounds reasonable. However, anxiety, stress, fear, and panic do not cause cancer; breast or any other kind. "False positives" and "false negatives" are the expected consequences of imperfect testing and all things human. Get over it. The benefits of preventive screening and testing have proven to save lives. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Women, what would you prefer to hear from your doctor? "Mary, I apologize for the delay between biopsy and results but the news is great...you do not have breast cancer." Or, "Mary, you have breast cancer. And, it is not good...it's aggressive and advanced--Stage 4. You could have detected this mass through self-exam and we could have addressed it immediately. I am sorry." </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>If the latter, you can add "anger" in front of anxiety, stress, fear, and panic following diagnosis. And, "hearty congratulations," now you can enjoy all five emotions for you now have a problem to sweat. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Self-exams, mammograms, ultrasounds, advanced imaging, and most importantly--biopsy (there's those three loud foot stomps again), saved my wife's life. The biopsy being the only way to absolutely diagnose breast cancer, and specify type and stage--my wife's aggressive. Had she neglected the first line of self-defense--self-exam (three loud foot stomps), her prognosis would most definitely not have been as good. In short, a lump detected at home triggered a life-saving process. Now one year of quarterly blood checks under her belt she remains cancer-free. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Self-exams are of no value? Nonsense! I am far too much of a gentleman to use the language I'd really like to use opining about the value of the government task force. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Men, by all means, encourage the women in your life to regularly conduct self-exams. Think breast cancer can't happen to them? Or affect you? Think again!</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Women, trust your instincts--they are our innate survival mechanism; listen to them. Any abnormality should be checked, without delay, by a doctor. Something bad will not get better by ignoring, hoping, wishing, meditating, praying--or drinking. A second opinion is a good idea. And remember, if it's cancer (no matter type or stage), you won't know until biopsied. Delays can be deadly.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Is my wife's good fortunes from self-exam the exception? Not by a long shot. Famous and not-so-famous women are coming forward, in hoards, every day with testimonials that self-exams and regular screening saved their lives. With each passing day the task force looks more and more foolish. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>The government's assault--albeit an initial probe--on breast cancer early detection and screening is only the beginning to degrade (socialize) American healthcare. There is no reason quality of care must be sacrificed while intelligently reforming the healthcare industry. But haste has us recklessly heading full-speed ahead in a dismal direction. A train wreck is inevitable. Marginalizing healthcare appears to be one objective of the reigning party's grand scheme to drive our country to mediocrity and that, in turn, will make us all vulnerable--as to healthcare and otherwise.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>This rush to overhaul healthcare without a bipartisan solution reminds me of an axiom every good Headquarters, U. S. Marine Corps Action Officer learns after working as lead on a few complicated projects: "You want it bad, you are going to get it bad." In other words, intervene to rush and circumvent the deliberate staffing process--designed to ensure thorough work before fielding, the result is going to be garbage. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>The president wants healthcare reform bad, rest assured we're going to get it bad. And that is not good. Not good at all. </span><br /><span><br /></span><strong><span>Post Script</span></strong><br /><span><br /></span><em><span>Please help provide free mammograms. Hit the pink box labeled, "Click Here to Give--it's FREE!" You can click once per day--it only takes a moment to help fight breast cancer. Add the link to your favorites. </span></em><em><span>Please pass it on. Thank you!</span></em></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span></span><a href="http://www.thebreastcancersite.com/clickToGive/home.faces?siteId=2"><span style="color: #063e3f;">http://www.thebreastcancersite.com/clickToGive/home.faces?siteId=2</span></a></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-46664901645078104072023-10-01T07:27:00.002-04:002023-10-01T07:27:44.506-04:00SIR, GOOD MORNING ... A RECRUIT COLLAPSED AT REVEILLE <p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>SIR, GOOD MORNING ... A RECRUIT COLLAPSED AT REVEILLE </b></span><br />by Andy Weddington<br />Sunday, 01 October 2023<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em><span>"These recruits are entrusted to my care. I will train them to the best of my ability. I will develop them into smartly disciplined, physically fit, basically trained Marines, thoroughly indoctrinated in love of Corps and country. I will demand of them, and demonstrate by my own example, the highest standards of personal conduct, morality and professional skill."</span></em> </span>Drill Instructor's Pledge</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><p><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span><span style="font-size: large;">U. S. Marine Corps Recruit Jerry Hurst died 40 years ago this date. </span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-size: large;">About five years ago arrived message on LinkedIn from a stranger; female. She identified herself as the niece of (Recruit) Jerry Hurst. Somehow she had come across this commentary. She wrote to let me know Jerry's parents were now deceased and about how she remembered her Uncle Jerry. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I mentioned somewhere in the Hurst home was a signed and numbered copy of 'MAKING MARINES' inscribed to the Hurst family. Searching, she found it. Jerry, an only child, lives on in Hurst family history.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not three weeks later I received a LinkedIn message from one of Recruit Hurst's platoon mates. He wrote a lengthy memory of his friend and how this time of year Jerry Hurst comes to the forefront of his mind. That I understand. <br /><span><br /></span><span>Even if momentarily, I've thought about Recruit Hurst - a 17 years old kid who made a man's decision to enlist in the U. S. Marine Corps - every day since his death. That is not exaggeration. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And I suspect all of his platoon mates think of him, at least on occasion, too. </span></p><p><span><span><span><span style="font-size: large;">Jerry Hurst would be 57. <br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Recruit Jerry Hurst's story ...</span><br /><span><br /></span><span></span><span>From page 205 of my book 'Making Marines' ...</span><br /><span><br /></span><span></span><span><i>"Shortly after reveille on the morning of 01 October 1983, Recruit Hurst collapsed in the vicinity of his rack in the squadbay. Despite immediate response from his fellow recruits, and heroic life-saving measures by his DIs and EMTs, Recruit Hurst died en route to the Naval Hospital. His death, coming at the end of First Phase, was a sobering experience for his platoon - 2095, DIs, and me - the Series Commander, all assigned to 2092 Series, Company F, Second Recruit Training Battalion, Recruit Training Regiment, Marine Corps Recruit Depot, Parris Island, South Carolina. We grieved, paid our respects in a fitting memorial service, accepted the reality of God's mysterious ways, and continued to move forward with training. Not a single day has passed since Recruit Hurst died that I have not thought about him, and his family. I still have the 2092 First Phase guidon."</i></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><br /></i></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcz7PNUmH87INUKY0AIx2r8BuHlqHHHj0dFBQGC79Ta_6InHMMkWhue0LjIYyYjkLE6Owo4VRMy7ttsjpQjmQfw6xlNvWligDAFlXPDEi-zqpaX2FlZLrCv6Kh-015-nJXx10bjoiV-_w/s1600/2092Guidonmod.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcz7PNUmH87INUKY0AIx2r8BuHlqHHHj0dFBQGC79Ta_6InHMMkWhue0LjIYyYjkLE6Owo4VRMy7ttsjpQjmQfw6xlNvWligDAFlXPDEi-zqpaX2FlZLrCv6Kh-015-nJXx10bjoiV-_w/s400/2092Guidonmod.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Platoon 2095 was the 4th platoon of the 2092 Series. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Recruit Hurst was a pickup, a training recycle, from First Recruit Training Battalion. My memory is he was recycled simply because he needed a little more time than the average recruit - he did not have an attitude problem. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>The Friday morning before on the battalion PT (physical training) field I'd run into Josh, a fellow series commander in brother Company D, and we'd decided to meet at the Officers' Club for a beer after the training day.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>That particular training day, ending First Phase, was busy as the 2092 Series was preparing to move - by means of a foot march, conditioning hike - from the battalion area to the rifle range for two weeks of marksmanship training culminating in rifle qualification. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>But before stepping off early on Saturday morning there was gear to pack; barracks to clean; new barracks to inspect; and a busy training day to conquer. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>As agreed, Josh and I met for that beer; only one. We were busy and Saturday was just another training day with an early reveille.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Driving the posted 25 MPH along Boulevard De France, the Depot's main road, and passing First Recruit Training Battalion to starboard I could see the 35 MPH sign a hundred yards or so ahead and began to accelerate. About half way to the sign I passed an MP parked to port and perpendicular to the road. As I passed and glanced in the mirror he was pulling out with code lights flashing. Great. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>I pulled over. The young Marine approached; asked for ID, driver's license, registration; and politely asked if I knew why he pulled me over. I was correct - accelerating before reaching the 35 MPH sign. He issued a warning.</span><br /><br /><span>The MP was correct. I thought it petty and was annoyed but glad it was only one beer and more than an hour prior. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>As I'd be departing quarters shortly after 0330 the next morning for the Depot, it was an early evening. Despite the MP encounter, sleep came easy. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Walking out the door my telephone rang. First thought it was friends calling after a night on the town (that happened with some frequency - at least amongst the bachelors). I hesitated but decided to answer. It was not friends.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>A DI from platoon 2095 said, "Sir, good morning. The Senior told me to call you immediately - a recruit collapsed at reveille and it does not look good." [I will never forget that call - his business-like voice, the few words, and my racing thoughts.]</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>"On my way," I replied. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>I hustled to the Depot - obeying the speed limits.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>It was busy at the barracks. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Not long on deck the phone call came notifying Recruit Hurst died. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>He was 17. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Shortly thereafter my battalion commander walked to our company area to see me. He asked how I was doing. I was fine - thinking about Recruit Hurst and completing a required report (Serious Incident Report that I still have a copy of - somewhere) but also about moving the Series to the rifle range (a life ended but training did not stop). </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>That CO reassured me deaths happen in recruit training - like lightning bolts. And he told me to focus on training saying he and the company commander would properly tend to Recruit Hurst. They, and others, did. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>A Senior Drill Instructor from another platoon in the Series escorted the remains of Recruit Hurst home - they hailed from the same state.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>A couple of weeks later I was ordered to report to the Depot Inspector's office - the colonel, the investigating officer, wanted to see me. I knew who he was but colonels (other than the regimental commander) and first lieutenants did not cross paths often. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>I reported. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>He was a trim and fit rather serious gent who sported a flat top and always looked a bit perturbed. Half-eye readers rested near the tip of his nose. He kept me standing. Open before him was the recruit training SOP (Standard Operating Procedure). First, he commented on the unfortunate death and reiterated what my battalion CO had said (they'd seen recruit deaths before). </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Then for 20 minutes (seemed more an hour) he worked his way through and asked questions about the SOP; random they were with most related to the First Phase of training. Satisfied, he looked up and over his readers and said, "Lieutenant, now I'm able to confidently include a statement in my investigation that the Series Commander was knowledgeable and competent in the performance of his duties. You are dismissed." </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>I came to attention, said, "Good afternoon, Sir," executed 'about face' and returned to work. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>On graduation day, the Series Chief Drill Instructor, to this day a friend, arranged for me to keep the 2092 First Phase (and Second) guidon (Third Phase is red with yellow numerals). Pictured above, it's a treasure.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>A few years ago I had lunch with the Marine general who commanded the Depot in those days. I was stunned by his recollection of Recruit Hurst's death, and his involvement, unbeknownst to me, with the family (having made at least a couple of phone calls). He told me he'd seen a death investigation aboard our other recruit depot not handled so well and he was determined that would not happen again. It did not.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Responsibility for the lives of others is sobering. Whether combat or training, Marines and recruits are injured and sometimes die. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>My DIs were doing everything right, to the letter and more importantly the spirit of the SOP and in line with their sworn pledge, to make Recruit Hurst a Marine. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>A congenital heart defect not detected during his entry physical was determined as the cause of death. Higher Authority had other plans for Recruit Hurst. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>From page 7 of 'Making Marines' ...</span><br /><span><br /></span><span><br /></span><span></span><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><br /></span><span>"In memory of every recruit who dies during training - especially, </span></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span></span><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Recruit Hurst, J. E. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Platoon 2095 </span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span></span><br /></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><em>01 October 1983"</em></span><br /><span><br /></span><span><br /></span><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>At age 26 I couldn't have imagined Recruit Hurst would cross my mind at least once a day. I've long accepted that's not going to change, and am grateful.</span><span> </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Thirty-nine years. Goodness. The time. The memory as if yesterday. </span></span></span></div></div><div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><br /></span><span>Tonight, like every year, a cold beer - with thoughts of Recruit Hurst; the men - recruits, DIs, Assistant Series Commander - of 2092 Series; Josh; the officers in my chain of command; and that young MP just doing his duty.</span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">Semper Fi, brothers. </span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong><span><br /></span></strong><strong><span><br /></span></strong></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Post Script</span></strong></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><strong><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></strong></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">My regimental commander from those days, the late Colonel Donald J. Myers, USMC, published a book - <i><b style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px;">Pride and Discipline</b> The Hallmarks of a United States Marine</i> - in 2014. An honor it was when he asked me and another retired Marine from our time in the regiment to write an Introduction. He did not change a word. I've heard the book is professional reading in the regiment (and perhaps DI School) to help educate and train DIs and officers. </span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">After this commentary, now with minor edit, was first published a handful of years ago a reader helped locate the Hurst family. The numbered/signed copy of 'Making Marines' duly earmarked now in their hands (the effort to find the family Hurst took more than six years). As noted in the intro, Jerry Hurst's parents are now deceased - reunited with their only child - and his niece inherited the book. </span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><br /></span><span>I received a lengthy and thoughtful letter about 'Making Marines' from a Marine general (retired) whom I do not know but commanded the Parris Island Depot after my days. A portion of his letter is worth sharing ...</span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><br /></span><span><i>"Your work is as good and as interesting an account of Marine Corps recruit training as I have encountered. You get to the essence in understandable terms and in the background the reader still senses the religion - like spirit prompting all that is being described.</i></span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"><span><br /></span><span>My overall emotion, through no fault of yours, is one of sadness. Yours may be the last significant work that describes the Marine Corps recruit training that produced such victories as Belleau Wood, Iwo Jima, Chosin Reservoir, Khe Sanh, Fallujah and others."</span></span></i></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span><br /></span><span>Kind but surely not gratuitous words from the general. Thank you, Sir! </span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span><span style="font-size: large;">The recruit training that General and I knew? Gone. </span></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div style="margin: 0px;"><span style="font-size: large;">A few copies of 'Making Marines' still available. See link left or visit the Books link: <a href="http://www.weddingtonartgallery.com/">www.weddingtonartgallery.com</a>.</span></div></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-61612334037551301992023-09-29T06:32:00.000-04:002023-09-29T06:32:39.156-04:00NO MORE DEBATES<p><b><span style="font-size: large;">NO MORE DEBATES</span></b></p><p><span>By Andy Weddington</span></p><p><span>Friday, 29 September 2023</span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Physical fitness is not only one of the most important keys to a healthy body, it is the basis of dynamic and creative intellectual activity. </span></i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></p><p style="text-align: center;">- John F. Kennedy, 35th President of the United States</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I watched both GOP debates. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Good grief. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">While watching the second, simultaneously tuned in Tucker Carlson's sit-down with Bill O'Reilly on X. There's 47+ minutes gone. No substance about current events. A waste.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The debate?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Stupid. More time gone. A waste. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The big take away?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">None fit to be President. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So not going to spend any time dissecting. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">America does not need candidates on stage presenting (their) platforms and bickering as toddlers over a toy. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">End debates.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Voters can read and study candidate platforms on campaign websites. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Make these gang televised public appearances into something of value to the voter - a chance to assess a candidates comprehensive fitness for office. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Call them "assessments."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For example, a three phase program ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">1. Challenging physical fitness test - let's see them sweat;</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">2. Cognitive competency test - let's see them sweat;</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">3. Polygraph - let's see them sweat. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That, for starters, should give the voter a pretty damn good indication who is and is not fit for duty as President. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">As for the two debates, it's the first time in American history a candidate handily won, not even close, and was not on stage. In fact, not even in the same state. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Trump won! And is extending his lead.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A new type of candidate will be required to compete in assessments. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">46 has proved such necessary. </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-71372843974447551722023-09-23T13:15:00.000-04:002023-09-23T13:15:59.108-04:00TICKET 2024<p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>TICKET 2024</b></span></p><p>By Andy Weddington</p><p>Saturday, 23 September 2023</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">The key to good decision-making is not knowledge. It is understanding. We are swimming in the former. We are desperately lacking in the latter. </span></i> - Malcolm Gladwell</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Joe Biden, already clearly showing signs of dementia/Alzheimer's, was installed President.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Today he's worse than most diagnosed with Alzheimer's I visit weekly. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Even if not in reality, why public tolerance for a cognitively incapable President? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That question applies to several Senators, too. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So Donald Trump's popularity obvious. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Were he not threat to agenda, there'd not be ongoing attack to take him out. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Disproportionally to attacks, his stature only growing; especially with young voters.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Monstrous numbers over challengers unprecedented. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Tucker Carlson and Jesse Watters, standout exceptions to peers, report facts and truth - reality.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They're blunt. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Carlson's audience, X, dwarfs mainstream viewers. Hundreds of millions watch his interviews. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Watters, Fox News, enjoys growing audience - in essence, he's Carslon.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">These men are bright, informed, common sensed based, fair, and most importantly these days - courageous. They are taking the agenda on - head on. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Their talents and value to America is under challenged in media. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"Experienced" politicians, especially with dementia, do not and cannot serve country. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, b<span style="caret-color: rgb(43, 0, 254);">ecause ...</span></span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(43, 0, 254);"><span style="font-size: large;">They're not politicians. </span></span></p><p><span style="caret-color: rgb(43, 0, 254);"><span style="font-size: large;">They understand. </span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(43, 0, 254);">They get that understanding is critical for sound decision-making and so goes leadership ...</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(43, 0, 254);"> </span></span></p><p><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;">CARLSON/WATTERS</span> </span></b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-size: x-large;"><b>2024!</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-12810693478727998412023-09-11T07:17:00.002-04:002023-09-11T07:17:34.392-04:0022 YEARS LATER - AMERICA UNDER ATTACK<p><strong><span style="font-size: large;">22 YEARS LATER - AMERICA UNDER ATTACK</span></strong><br />By Andy Weddington<br />Monday, 11 September 2023<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>... against all enemies foreign and domestic ...</i> </span>- </span><span>Oath of Office</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>I </span><span>know two people murdered. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>My step mother-in-law nearly eleven years ago - attacked, in her home, by a teenager who slit her throat. </span></span></div><div><span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Her killer caught but still no trial. There may never be for being declared mentally incompetent. So much for justice. </span><br /><span><br /><div>A Sailor (along with thousands of others) this date 22 years ago. </div><div><br /></div><div>Determined enemies hijacked airplanes flying them as missiles into buildings and a field. There will never be justice.</div><div><br /></div><div>Eleven years ago on this anniversary four Americans - on duty serving country - were murdered in Benghazi, Libya, by more determined enemies. Americans in battle abandoned by America; unprecedented and unconscionable cowardice now habit. Recently, Afghanistan. </div></span></span></div><p><span style="font-size: large;">On this 22nd anniversary ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'm angry. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">You better be. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">America is under attack. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We have college graduates born after 9/11. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Children are either not being taught "Never Forget" or that their country is bad.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Oath to Constitution ignored; o</span>n duty oath takers - abetting and cowering. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ultimately, freedom rests in the will and courage of the angry American citizenry who pledge allegiance; as the people enjoy overwhelming numbers, freedoms cannot be taken only surrendered. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Constitution, crystal clear, is the people's authority to make change - one way or another. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">This is not a game. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Champions neither surrender nor make excuses. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Champions, one way or another, prevail.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And so do Americans. </span></p><p><span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span><span style="font-size: large;">Republished from fourteen years ago... </span><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /><strong><span style="font-size: large;">9/11 - AND A BLACK SHOE NAMED MURPHY</span></strong><br /><span style="font-size: medium;">By Andy Weddington<br />11 September 2009<br /></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><span>Today, communities, towns, and cities--coast to coast--will hold "9/11" Memorials. As it should be.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Countless newspapers, magazines, Internet blogs, and TV news programs will remember "9/11." As they should. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>And far more famous and eloquent writers--with all sorts of impressive credentials, distinguished awards, and professional accomplishments--than I will recall the tragedy from a macro perspective; the temporary crippling of our nation, and the world. And that is okay; it is necessary.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Some writers and commentators will innocently skim over or completely overlook the micro. Still others will intentionally snub the micro--as to not rile America's anger as she reflects, remembers, and continues to heal--for no other reason than to promote a twisted political agenda. That is, they will deliberately work to just "let the sleeping dog lay." </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>But the micro--the human variable--is really all that matters. In fact, stirring up the "micro" is what will ensure no one ever forgets, ever, the shock of pure horror and the pain of nearly inconsolable anguish and grief. And remind our leadership and countrymen to remain alert and on-guard--to protect the homeland and Americans abroad. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>For me, "9/11" was personal; on many fronts. And my purpose--my mission--today is to ensure no one ever forgets that it was personal for everyone who lost a loved one--family member or friend--that awful day and in the days that followed.</span><br /><br /><span>Therefore, today's Commentary will focus on the "micro" - honoring the life and selfless service of a fellow American--a "black shoe" Sailor--a hero. Ladies and gentlemen, it is my distinct privilege and honor to present to you...</span><br /><span><br /></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjACd1m4YMn_kYXXdOqGxkHik5PQbCg47QOdGy_NUUxt685u2kut1khbMVD9EEYu1oslgwNyV25oyXlrlM4SaTVRS5D9m7mJrev_iRe8Ai25sNGzf_W4NCEvSCexb5UjlE6hNtIjtJv0/s1600/PatMurphy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPjACd1m4YMn_kYXXdOqGxkHik5PQbCg47QOdGy_NUUxt685u2kut1khbMVD9EEYu1oslgwNyV25oyXlrlM4SaTVRS5D9m7mJrev_iRe8Ai25sNGzf_W4NCEvSCexb5UjlE6hNtIjtJv0/s320/PatMurphy.jpg" width="242" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lieutenant Commander Patrick Jude Murphy, U. S. Navy</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">25 June 1963 - 11 September 2001</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><p><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span>American Airlines Flight 77--with cockpit controls resting in the filthy hands and warped minds of Muslim extremists--inexplicably changed course; it headed toward Washington, D.C. As it turned out, the Pentagon. Flying well below treetop level, once a friendly airliner now a hostile missile, it--without warning--slammed into the side--and ripped toward the heart--of America's defense headquarters. It was 09:37 on Tuesday morning, 11 September 2001.</span><br /><br /><span>Eight years ago today, the Arlington, Virginia, landmark recognized as the world's most powerful iconic symbol of military might was the target of one of four civilian commercial passenger jets--the big tin birds--turned into weapons of mass destruction against America. The attack--SHOCKING and UNBELIEVABLE--left us momentarily stunned--incoherent. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Our enemies cheered and celebrated--they had wounded Goliath. But their partying would be short-lived. For our wound they would pay, and pay big time, having grossly underestimated the wrath of a bleeding, angry, and incredibly powerful giant. And their hell is not over yet. In holes they still hide. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>The unprovoked, surprise attack was surreal. For those who did not already know it, it made a defining worldwide statement: the modern battlefield has no boundaries--it is nonlinear. And though the term "nonlinear" says it all--most civilians never considered the possibility of finding themselves in the middle of a war. Welcome to 21st century warfare--without rules; at least as waged by our enemy. Our enemy has one objective--kill as many western civilians/infidels as possible. By whatever means available. Men, women, and children--regardless of age, are fair game. 9/11 was testament they were serious, and determined. Make no mistake, they continue to be a serious, dangerous threat to our way of life.</span><br /><br /><span>Excluding the fifty-nine innocent passengers on Flight 77 (who gives a damn about the worthless lives of five miserable terrorists!), 125 souls perished in the Pentagon; including fifty-five of America's finest men and women--volunteers--patriots--all clad in an American military uniform. Scores more were injured. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Among the dead military was a Sailor named Lieutenant Commander Pat Murphy--a native son of Flossmoor, Illinois--a small village of 3.5 square miles in south suburban Cook County that, at the time of Pat's death, claimed a populace of a smidgen more than 9,300. More than likely, many in the village knew Pat. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Fifteen years earlier, after completing course work for a Bachelor of Science in Chemical Engineering and finishing a demanding Naval ROTC program curriculum, Pat Murphy was commissioned an Ensign in the United States Navy at the University of Mississippi--home of the Ole Miss Rebels. Yes, Hotty Toddy!, Ole Miss alum.</span><br /><br /><span>After commissioning, Ensign Murphy, having breezed through the rigorous screening and interview process, reported to the Navy's challenging nuclear power training program. Many a talented officer is not selected for nuke power; it is reserved for the elite. That Pat was among the chosen, excelled, and subsequently assigned to nuclear-powered submarines says plenty about his God-given abilities and skills. He served among a rare breed.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Pat Murphy was a smart guy. One of those types in the military that his less-gifted peers--and undoubtedly with a bit of envy--refer to as a "ten-pound brain." And other intellectual inferiors joke that the only reason these extraordinarily bright people have a body is to carry their brains around. Only the "non ten-pound brainers" see the humor. Yes sir, Pat Murphy was one smart guy. And an all-around pleasant, stand-up man. A gentleman.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>It surprised no one that Pat did well in the fleet. But after attaining the rank of Lieutenant and completing his obligatory active duty service, he opted to resign his regular commission, accept a reserve commission--to "RE-Serve" his country, as Vice Admiral John Cotton, U. S Navy (Retired) liked to say when he commanded the Reserve Force, and return to civilian life to pursue a career as a chemical engineer.</span><br /><br /><span>Pat Murphy had big plans--among them was starting a family. Pat married his college sweetheart and the Murphy's eventually welcomed two children--sons--to the world. For Pat, coming from a broken home, family meant everything. He was determined to give his children that which he did not enjoy--a stable home with a loving mother and father. He did exactly that. Pat was a great Dad and was close to his boys.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Life was good for the Murphy's. And then the unimaginable happened. The proverbial lightning bolt struck--on a crystal clear day in Arlington, Virginia.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>A "RE-Serving" officer for five years, it was just his extreme bad luck to be on his two-week annual training, working with Navy Command Center in the Pentagon, on that dreadful day--the day today known simply as "9/11." A day, that anyone of age who remembers, recalls exactly where they were and what they were doing while the land of the free nervously watched and helplessly waited for the next commandeered airliner to strike. The World Trade Center Towers; the Pentagon; a field in Pennsylvania--if not for brave passengers, the Capitol; no one knew if more were coming or not. Finally, the skies declared clear, a terrified nation caught its breath.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Amid devastation and chaos, it took a few days before official casualty lists--Department of Defense or otherwise--were released to the public. Accuracy superseded speed; of course. On Friday, 14 September, while scanning the Pentagon's list looking for familiar names, I happened upon "Lieutenant Commander Patrick Murphy."</span><br /><br /><span>My heart sank. You see, I knew a Patrick Murphy at Ole Miss in 1986 while serving as the Marine Officer Instructor on the Naval ROTC Unit Staff. And though not an uncommon name I had an unsettling gut feeling it was the same Patrick Murphy. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>After attempting to confirm suspicions through sundry sources without success, I shared my feeling and concerns with my wife--a close friend of Pat's wife. After a few moments of discussion we decided to call the Murphy home. Linnea's call was answered. She identified herself and explained the purpose for phoning. The gentleman on the other end identified himself as John, Pat's brother, and confirmed it was indeed the same Pat Murphy on the casualty list. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>John was polite--of course struggling with emotion--and said he was "running interference" and would be happy to take a message. As he repeated my wife's unusual name and began spelling it, Pat's wife overheard and said, "Wait, John, I will take that call." Use your imagination--it was a tough, tearful conversation.</span><br /><br /><span>The Murphy household was devastated. A distraught wife laboring to comprehend reality. Their two young sons--one 6, the other 3--too young to understand why Dad would not be coming home. Even children, in their own way, must cope with the fact life is not fair--heartbreaking. Now, along with thousands and thousands of other families devastated on 9/11, the Murphy family was reeling from shock, excruciating heartache, asking the rhetorical question, "Why?", and gradually coming to grips with their new lives--all whilst trying to figure out how they were going to take even a small step forward. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Pat's wife, along with more than 1,600 others, lost her spouse (partner)--her lover. The boys were among more than 3,000 children who lost a parent--their Dad was gone. And all were facing the same gut-wrenching circumstances--the overwhelming challenge of how to put their instantly shattered lives back together. Somehow they did. Yet scars remain--they will for life. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>My wife and I remain friends with the family Murphy. She is in a good place--though she misses Pat every day. Once boys are developing into young men, old enough to know their Dad, whom Mom continues to work hard to keep "alive," was one hell of a man--a son, a brother, a husband, a father--"Dad," a friend, a Sailor, a shipmate, a patriot and most telling of his character, a hero.</span><br /><br /><span>Pat's name, and sacrifice, is preserved as part of the Pentagon Memorial--opened on this date last year--honoring the 184 good souls who died either in the Pentagon or aboard the airliner.</span><br /><span></span><br /><span>Lieutenant Commander Patrick Jude Murphy, United States Navy, today rests peacefully. Honored in Arlington National Cemetery--a greener and more reverent pasture there is not for our country's best and bravest. He rests among good--the best--company in the protective ranks of a formation. Amid brethren heroes of America he is safe--forever. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>"Pat, eternal 'Fair Winds and Following Seas.' Your shipmates are ever vigilant on watch." </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqOlXu_443ihoMOtoNOuuf-LhGiU8GB-2jbTy4h4deVMZunxaw82mrdUUhVA2TkiPsQsuVoldKKByu9EV1xCJqLrhwcnB4FWt1zWibDvZjtgtP8xmAMYvRhZtxtHKPT5AVpogw3nquDkE/s1600/PatMurphyheadstonegrasscrop.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqOlXu_443ihoMOtoNOuuf-LhGiU8GB-2jbTy4h4deVMZunxaw82mrdUUhVA2TkiPsQsuVoldKKByu9EV1xCJqLrhwcnB4FWt1zWibDvZjtgtP8xmAMYvRhZtxtHKPT5AVpogw3nquDkE/s320/PatMurphyheadstonegrasscrop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At rest, Arlington National Cemetery</span></div><p><strong><span style="font-size: large;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-size: large;"></span></strong><br /><strong style="font-size: x-large;">Post Script</strong><br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><em>Clip....................Clop..................Clip....................Clop.................</em><br /><em>..............Clip....................Clop................is the repetitive and haunting sound of hooves striking asphalt reverberating through the cemetery as a horse-drawn caisson laden with a flag-draped coffin, and accompanying burial detail, weaves its way through Arlington National Cemetery. The journey - escorting a veteran to their final resting place. "Mourning March," if you will, is repeated over and over again; daily. The sights and sounds of the traditional procession are spine-tingling. And even on the hottest and most humid of summer days, a glimpse of the detail, or even the sound of hooves, will send an ice-cold chill through your body; the shiver reflex guaranteed. If ever happening upon the somber ceremony, "brothers" laying a "brother" to rest, take the time to pause and respectfully watch - to honor a warrior. It is moving...moving beyond words. </em><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /><strong style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></strong><strong><span style="font-size: large;">Author's Endnotes</span></strong><br /><strong style="font-size: x-large;"><span></span></strong><br /><span><span style="font-size: large;"><span><span>1. A "black shoe" is a surface (and sub-surface) warfare Sailor. That is, not an aviator. </span><br /><br /><span>2. A year or so after first posting this commentary one of the Murphy boys died in an awful accident. He rests alongside his father.</span></span><br /><span></span><br /><span><span>3. Twelve years ago, to mark the anniversary of the attack, my wife and I decided to fly coast to coast, east to west, on Sunday, 11 September 2011 - 9/11/11. It was a sobering trip - uneventful but memorable. </span></span><span><br /></span><span></span><br /><span>4. Seven years ago I visited the Pentagon Memorial and the section of Arlington National Cemetery dedicated to the Pentagon victims - walking amongst the graves a pause at the family Murphy stone. </span></span><br /></span><br /><span style="font-size: large;"></span><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg01zHNsdNqWx7EDj8MziLRQucLmM9iBi71nmHqholW_ntoFRQsXp1aFJ567M5QFchfgUyWwa8OhkTUg57TVgB8HV02noyllkWk6xQ52N-9tHTBoHfJDcRS2jj_ooqXGRxwEkjbUg05oX0/s1600/USflag.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg01zHNsdNqWx7EDj8MziLRQucLmM9iBi71nmHqholW_ntoFRQsXp1aFJ567M5QFchfgUyWwa8OhkTUg57TVgB8HV02noyllkWk6xQ52N-9tHTBoHfJDcRS2jj_ooqXGRxwEkjbUg05oX0/s320/USflag.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><em>Forever May She Wave!</em></span><br /></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><em><br /></em></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-46813727301810569532023-08-24T10:58:00.000-04:002023-08-24T10:58:20.097-04:00WAS OUR PRESIDENT OFF STAGE?<p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>WAS OUR PRESIDENT OFF STAGE?</b></span></p><p>By Andy Weddington</p><p>Thursday, 24 August 2023</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">They key to good decision making is not knowledge. It is understanding. We are swimming in the former. We are desperately lacking in the latter. </span></i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span>- Malcolm Gladwell</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Objective analysis of last evening's conversations with nine candidates - eight on television, one on X - of mind they have what it takes to be President of the United States.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Watched both start to finish and have not given any attention to media talking heads. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No winner. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not all merit mention. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Fox News ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Christie ... clothes tailored but neither demeanor nor physically fit for President. As reminder, when governor he ordered bridge traffic choked to punish voters, and lied about so ordering. Hard no. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Pence ... looks and behaves the oral surgeon. Hard no.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">DeSantis ... much to like. Jury's out. Still looks and sounds like a governor.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Haley ... sound bite candidate. Wrong on Ukraine. Hard no. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ramaswamy ... is pounding clearest message. Sent him Tweet: "You did not win for losing the most important battle - discipline. Take the attack, keep silent and stoic, then when called upon unleash measured, withering, and lethal fire. Our President must be disciplined - ever calm in storm and chaos." To watch. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">X ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Trump ... Tucker Carlson's Episode 19 and worst interview to date. Forty-six minutes of Trump rambling and waffling. No strong answers. No tough questions - nothing on covid and all surrounding nonsense. Nor anything on mutilation of children. Wasted opportunity. Voters learned nothing. Though popularity a phenomenon. Most famous human on Earth. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now, a few days ago I watched Tucker Carlson's Episode 18. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For fifty-two minutes he interviewed Colonel Douglas Macgregor, U. S. Army (Retired) about Ukraine.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Instructive. Riveting, actually. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The above nine candidates ought to have watched that interview, and I wonder if any did?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Every voter ought watch. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Colonel Macgregor's experience, knowledge, expertise, and common sense apparent. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Most importantly, he oozes calm, confidence, authoritativeness, and general sense of understanding. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He was articulate and blunt answering and expounding upon difficult questions. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No nonsense. No waffling. No slogans, bumper sticker burps, nor catchy ear candy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Polished. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He spoke to reality. Truth.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That he can be analytical and compelling about Ukraine so could he be on any matter concerning national security; the job of President.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That wealth and donors determines whom to be President aggravating beyond language. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At this point, political "experience" be damned, Colonel Macgregor strikes me as most qualified.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That's conclusion not endorsement; and he'd probably scoff.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Is there others? Of course. Now to find them! </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">If yet to watch the interview, search Tucker Carlson on X and scroll. Worth every minute of your time. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, to conclude ... that a man suffering dementia (and clearly progressing) was installed as President, and carried through to date, opens all sorts of possibilities.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-31044413332618537172023-08-19T14:16:00.000-04:002023-08-19T14:16:25.273-04:00CAGING THE BARRACKS<p><b><span style="font-size: large;">CAGING THE BARRACKS</span></b></p><p><span>By Andy Weddington</span></p><p><span>Saturday, 19 August 2023</span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">There's a way out of any cage, and I'll find it. </span></i> - Jeffrey Hunter</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not too many weeks ago a Marine posted half dozen photographs, on Facebook, of recruit barracks aboard Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The bothersome images have to and fro'ed in thought since seeing them. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZLSgTDj7Ic1E-PXLNGAde1cYIIiM9Dd2AQ6pV8uvkryKUvNiBkxPsOeGKFCmpaIN1VMyMG6Tm_gQ1J0tCCK-ZHoQDUy1jpoJFQZOvGSCUFX0nEaHsIvHspShkt9mQhnvYUuHwpRlYF4hqkAIzkn3cdL6jjDe_DVVooqdnxV8LLVqKtdu7jcV7OebumE/s2048/IMG_5271.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirZLSgTDj7Ic1E-PXLNGAde1cYIIiM9Dd2AQ6pV8uvkryKUvNiBkxPsOeGKFCmpaIN1VMyMG6Tm_gQ1J0tCCK-ZHoQDUy1jpoJFQZOvGSCUFX0nEaHsIvHspShkt9mQhnvYUuHwpRlYF4hqkAIzkn3cdL6jjDe_DVVooqdnxV8LLVqKtdu7jcV7OebumE/s2048/IMG_5271.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipXAEf-0qLUBS8cqP2p4gyWNVtJz1nZVQ6bwwWyoLqwXU9dphcLgmG6Q2JnOZ6I9w7FB38uLwWLQsaBWME6JgnxJKc5QnrIn7ryvNvEby7dbKVhINEOFNJicEFjYo5wWY49I5BIxwupn2qgiixrHoQ1dDag2RdXsLUQM89VPvJtJgiXN9u1ZZY7zKc2t0/s1800/IMG_5272.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn-hq0e_L7-D8vTtJBrf95WfqLkNgzWo4WPJHXSv_asN5GCbIt4v729vDqY3i2tcbUmlgyScDoNHyySk77qy8z1g0xXTImd9zENq6sdZYmPdLk7M6LFivSQwp_gAIkDZOPXoIRwXbXkHzyaQwK9UhIwsFfYpoM9LcN_tfNdXldmejCenHqHoqNO7w30Lg/s1800/IMG_5274.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn-hq0e_L7-D8vTtJBrf95WfqLkNgzWo4WPJHXSv_asN5GCbIt4v729vDqY3i2tcbUmlgyScDoNHyySk77qy8z1g0xXTImd9zENq6sdZYmPdLk7M6LFivSQwp_gAIkDZOPXoIRwXbXkHzyaQwK9UhIwsFfYpoM9LcN_tfNdXldmejCenHqHoqNO7w30Lg/s320/IMG_5274.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjFs8FVAiAx7ueeIOd2kr-UuZkFV4M8Ki7KuhHv__s33xwnciuS2wyZWu9WI9CIro7gy0xCQEbI8LjJyKIkvOWlrCuXJuFe4au1iv57R4lT1M-QKc6hKBpd673HF3GZIoVq-wE6HkPjIN9r8B0SP4IMwWFoyFhMeCtvK5SfGpXpNzpEK7sD1V1YojKBeU/s1800/IMG_5275.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjFs8FVAiAx7ueeIOd2kr-UuZkFV4M8Ki7KuhHv__s33xwnciuS2wyZWu9WI9CIro7gy0xCQEbI8LjJyKIkvOWlrCuXJuFe4au1iv57R4lT1M-QKc6hKBpd673HF3GZIoVq-wE6HkPjIN9r8B0SP4IMwWFoyFhMeCtvK5SfGpXpNzpEK7sD1V1YojKBeU/s320/IMG_5275.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvMVy0oix8C3sngVw0Hqg9Sm5ugN1mV6tNsEj3tGrTt7G2jHVskTv8yH3H3WrwYfVk1AflBUpKlY5D_Q7nzi4PHTiBDaw8q5fdqUa_D5Nx18fLV2FlkuPJIiJqz09UisUTb-SD4EWxPhkQm1QJWO2DDQAj-IHZNAa7aBbOFmRlkYHN0CIBziMtuYUxWhI/s1800/IMG_5276.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvMVy0oix8C3sngVw0Hqg9Sm5ugN1mV6tNsEj3tGrTt7G2jHVskTv8yH3H3WrwYfVk1AflBUpKlY5D_Q7nzi4PHTiBDaw8q5fdqUa_D5Nx18fLV2FlkuPJIiJqz09UisUTb-SD4EWxPhkQm1QJWO2DDQAj-IHZNAa7aBbOFmRlkYHN0CIBziMtuYUxWhI/s320/IMG_5276.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Finally, a conclusion or two. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I recognized the barracks - Second Battalion.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My battalion for three years 1983-86 (as series commander, company executive officer, battalion operations officer, and company commander leading and supervising drill instructors charged with the mission to make Marines). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But the barracks recently modified. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For fencing installed to block outer open areas of the second and third decks, the barracks turned into cages.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Thoughts of kennels and zoos and youth prisons first came to mind. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So I asked, "Why fencing?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To prevent jumpers came reply. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now there's so many jumpers as to require physical countermeasure?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Who are these recruits?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Was first question that came to mind.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But, wrong question.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The wiser questions go to leadership.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Who the drill instructors?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Who the officers supervising those drill instructors?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Reflecting, not one jumper during three years comes to mind. Maybe there was one. Maybe two. But not so many as to call for a costly and eyesore remedy. Never mind the inexhaustible discussion as to the psychological aspect. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Seems bizarre, to me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I wonder thoughts of new recruits, visitors, and parents on graduation day (second battalion barracks sit on the main boulevard directly across from the parade deck)? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What kind of tone is that to set? The impression lasting. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What other countermeasures implemented? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To Mr. Hunter's opening thought, a determined suicidal recruit will find a way out of the cage. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Or "cage."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Patches mask and fail. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The correct and enduring countermeasure rests in leadership.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And supervision.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Making Marines is an art that requires professionals. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So it is Parris Island enjoys a scores and scores long rich history of turning out an extraordinary product - civilian transformed into Marine; globally feared. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now fencing required? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Something is wrong.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Something is seriously wrong.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Remove the caging. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Back to time and battled-tested principles and traits, Marines. </span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-78747495274780815912023-08-18T15:00:00.000-04:002023-08-18T15:00:18.293-04:00VIVEK<p><b><span style="font-size: large;">VIVEK</span></b></p><p>By Andy Weddington</p><p>Friday, 18 August 2023</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">If you look for perfection, you'll never be content. </span></i>- Leo Tolstoy</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not that polls mean much, if anything, 15 months before Election Day but Vivek Ramaswamy is now polling higher than Ron DeSantis.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Christie, Haley, Pence, Scott, et al. - no where near double digits - hard no. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And though Vivek's about 40 points behind Donald Trump he's only beginning to gain serious attention. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In 2015 media was adamant Donald Trump could not possibly be elected President. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Well that happened. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And depending on who you talk to he was reelected in 2020. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Eight years after Trump's entrance media is echoing that no way sentiment about Vivek. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">They're wrong. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Vivek is flooding social media with his simple, clearly articulated, and logically defended positions. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Not everyone will ever agree with everything.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He is young (just turned 38), confident, sensible, and seemingly tireless.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Smart, informed, and learning, too.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Political experience?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Moot. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Policy experience?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Moot.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Of sound cognition matters. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Judgement matters.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Courage and leadership matter. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In contrast, President Biden is a corpse.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">President Trump lacks his polish.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And he's running circles around the other gone public GOP candidates.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A serious threat, mainstream media is not covering him. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But sooner than later they'll have no choice.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Noted many times, politics does not interest me. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">My (selfish) desire is to live as simple an American life - as intended by the Framers - as possible facilitated by representation. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Vivek is vowing revolutionary action - dismantling government. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That needs to happen. Must happen.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And that is a common belief held by the fed up, disgusted, and angry everyday American; for whom - however minuscule the audience - I write. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Much will happen between now and November 2024 and America's ache for a real President only to intensify.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Vivek comes across as a serious man who has invested considerable thought into our country's problems. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Fixing is never as easy as breaking. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The Department of Justice is broken.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Without justice no country. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">To point we're witnessing gross injustice with the political persecution of Donald Trump.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It's wrong. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There is Vivek's first order of business. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Typically, I refrain from 'eye for an eye.' </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But the piss and vinegar flooding my arteries anymore will encourage President Ramaswamy to pardon Trump (though for what crimes a mystery) and tap for Attorney General.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-41012456727469354872023-08-06T12:51:00.000-04:002023-08-06T12:51:44.825-04:00ALZHEIMER'S <p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>ALZHEIMER'S </b></span></p><p>By Andy Weddington</p><p>Sunday, 06 August 2023</p><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Caring for an Alzheimer's patient is a situation that can utterly consume the lives and well-being of the people giving care, just as the disorder consumes its victims.</span></i> - Leeza Gibbons</p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Today is the birthday of Alexander Fleming. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He'd be 142 (1881-1955). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Who is Fleming?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">His hallmark achievement and incredible contribution to mankind?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He discovered penicillin. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And for that TIME magazine included him on their 100 Most Important People list of the 20th Century. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Penicillin, a miracle of sorts, cannot prevent, delay, nor cure any form of dementia including Alzheimer's Disease. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In fact, there is nothing akin to penicillin for Alzheimer's. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There are medicines - some off the shelf - hawked as delaying disease progression but there is not proof. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And with some of the medicines the side effects worse than the disease.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So why?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Actor/comedian Robin Williams was diagnosed with dementia - Lewy Body. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He committed suicide - hanging.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Sad?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He understood cruel fate and opted, while able, to exit on his terms; sparing self and family, and friends hell. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I get it. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I see to the needs of an Alzheimer's patient (just shy four years). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And visit, regularly, others - including a couple of Marines - dealing with the disease.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Obligated and happy to help however possible. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Last week I asked one of the Marines - retired lieutenant colonel jet guy - now restricted to wheel chair and with advanced disease, "Sir, how's it going?" </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He looked at me, sheepishly smiled, and managed, "Andy, this is as good as it gets." [He remembers my name because his oldest son is Andy.] </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The guy fights every day with remarkable spirit - as expected by a Marine. Though struggles must at times be frustrating. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'm just home from visiting and tending to sundry simple routine chores beyond my charge's ability. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Today's question - which is practically monthly ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"When will you be bringing my eyeglasses?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"Well, I saw you with your glasses Friday. Where are they?"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"I don't know. I thought you took them for adjustments."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"No I did not. They were fine and you were using them."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">After exhaustive search of room, premises, and grounds - no eyeglasses.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I've lost count the number of broken and lost. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But I learned to always have a backup pair on hand. Problem solved.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Some problems are not so easily resolved; particularly when not knowing of a problem until it randomly comes out in conversation.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">In some ways, it's like a crying infant and trying to figure out what's wrong. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Ernest Hemingway, amongst other epic work, is noted for his powerful six-words short stories. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">One I recall: For sale. Baby Shoes. Never worn. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A couple years ago, using Hemingway's six-words boilerplate, I wrote: Mother diagnosed Alzheimer's. Family suffers disease. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Later in life Hemingway, a known heavy drinker, suffered mental and physical deterioration. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Though not able to find the word dementia noted in his biographical data, possibly. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">He committed suicide - gunshot.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There was family history so who knows - perhaps he understood fate and opted out; the same way other family had. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">We learned from covid big pharm's focus is cash not public health. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Those drugs pushed to delay Alzheimer's?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Well, my opinion ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Cash - and delay the incurable inevitable for as long as possible. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And like the hasty covid "vaccines" what is really known about the short and long term unintended consequences of the drugs that neither prevent nor cure Alzheimer's?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I've many observations about Alzheimer's Disease.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">A couple of the more sobering ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The disease does not bother the diagnosed. And the caregiver's best intentions are not always in the diagnosed's best interest. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Reality to maintain sanity. And calm. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">The cruelty of Alzheimer's (any dementia) is it strips the diagnosed of their personality; eventually gone. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Memories comfort; somewhat. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Too, today is the date (1945) the Enola Gay dropped an atomic bomb on Hiroshima; the ultimate counterpunch for attacking Pearl Harbor. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Now a bomb I'd like to see dropped on mankind is a prevention or cure for Alzheimer's Disease - by way of a brilliant mind as Alexander Fleming's. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">If, anymore, in this world of greed, such a release is permissible. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Cure for patient. Cashflow for pharm. Greater friction than that required to make diamonds. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yes, a backup to the backup pair of eyeglasses on hand. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7191205038617397351.post-66543520758436768592023-08-01T11:13:00.003-04:002023-08-01T11:13:35.524-04:00DERELICTION OF DUTY<p><b><span style="font-size: large;">DERELICTION OF DUTY</span></b></p><p><span>By Andy Weddington</span></p><p><span>Tuesday, 01 August 2023</span></p><p><span><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Treason doth never prosper. What's the reason? Why, when it prospers, none dare call it treason.</span></i> - John Harington</p><p><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Everything complicated can be simplified.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And everything simple can be (unnecessarily) complicated. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Never fall into the trap believing or being told, "It's complicated."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Frog feathers. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When any advocate for the "complicated" is not able or not willing to simplify then they are either stupid, corrupt, or both.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">No exceptions. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">So, simply ...</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">China is a foreign enemy.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">If not, then why did the recently outgoing Commandant of the Marine Corps, General Berger, turn the Marine Corps inside out to defeat them? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">At this point facts - financial records and sworn testimony - substantiate family Biden, including Joe, secretly pocketed money from China. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Lots of money. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Millions.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What tangible did China purchase?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Before Joe Biden occupied the Oval Office?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">After Joe Biden occupied the Oval Office? </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Safe passage of surveillance balloons?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Emasculation of the military?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Technology?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What, exactly?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Replace surname Biden with Berger, Milley, Gilday, Brown, or Raymond. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For those not familiar - four-star flag officers. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">That is, that the Commander-in-Chief pocketed cash from a foreign enemy is one or all of the service chiefs (Berger recently retired - successor Smith acting) likewise welcome to partake?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">From China? Russia? North Korea? Et al.?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Have any of them so prospered?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">I'd like to think not. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">But it's logical and fair question (that any investigator would and must ask). </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For none holier than thou. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Fortunes not just printed fodder for cookies but being realized. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">When is "corruption" no longer the correct descriptor?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">What about this sworn oath to Constitution business and the matter of supporting and defending against all enemies foreign and domestic?</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">It's rather simple, the scope of dereliction of duty mind-numbing.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">And angering and troubling. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">For fools, and chickens, it's complicated. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Cowardice, ironically, Americans call being yellow.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">There's not yellow on our colors. </span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Yet.</span></p><div><span style="font-size: large;">Nor is there gray area on our glorious red, white, and blue. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">But today it sure appears that way. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Where is 'the brave men'?</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">Today's commentary on behalf of fuming friends asking for answers. They're standing by ...</span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: large;">By the way, Chinese fast food is not good for you. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0