Going for a Board competition...
So, need to turn in.
Will be a VERY long day... hopefully, a good one.
'night!
17 February 2010
Communication, Communication, Communication
Why is this so difficult? It should be easy in this day and age. After all, with rare exception, we can be reached by text, email, and sometimes, you can even go old-school and use a telephone.
So, there was a mandatory event this morning. "Lottie, Dottie, Everybody..."
No one was really sure where we were supposed to go, as we'd never gone there before. Therefore, it was put out the night before that everyone would meet at 8 at Place X.
Simple.
But... Seems that earlier, at the PT session, directions were given and everyone is just told to meet there. Everyone at the PT that is. Those not there... heard crickets.
So, at 8, imagine my surprise when no one *else* was at Place X.
I've noticed this trend lately to brief the plan, then change the plan, but not disseminate the change.
No further comment...
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
Now Hear This. Now Hear This... Code BLUE. Code BLUE...
At my hospital, PA announcements are very rare. Purposefully so, as to ensure that when there is one, it gets our attention.
The most common of the rare announcements is the Code Blue - Cardiac Arrest. (Other terms you may be familiar with: "Coded", "Flatlined", or needing CPR.)
Tonight, after a busy night, we'd slowed down... and then, over the PA...
"Now hear this. Now hear this. Code Blue. Code Blue in ******."
I learned something new, or I'd just never noticed because of other things going on, but... Radiology Techs respond to Code Blue, too.
So, off I and another tech got moving. Quickly. We went to the ward where a patient was lying in his bed, while 10+ staff worked feverishly to keep him alive.
At one point, I counted over 15 responders, including security, nurses, respiratory techs, doctors, staff, and... two Radiology Techs. People rotated through doing the chest compressions as you can tire out easily.
Over the next 20 minutes, this team fought to keep him alive. I started to wonder if perhaps, he might not make it. It had been a long time. The odds didn't seem to be in his favor.
The family was called. I hoped that in their haste to rush to the side of their loved one that they'd be safe and not need their own emergency care. I can only imagine how some might react if called in the middle of the night and told their loved one had gone into cardiac arrest and may not be around long.
The other tech and I continued to talk... discussing various things, the shift, death, CPR, E... it meandered.
And then, beep.... beep... beep... I looked and could see his chest moving. He was making it! He wasn't going to die... not now, at least.
The crowd thinned, and we moved in and got out pictures to help document what may have caused the cardiac arrest.
And another successful day. I like my job!
The most common of the rare announcements is the Code Blue - Cardiac Arrest. (Other terms you may be familiar with: "Coded", "Flatlined", or needing CPR.)
Tonight, after a busy night, we'd slowed down... and then, over the PA...
"Now hear this. Now hear this. Code Blue. Code Blue in ******."
I learned something new, or I'd just never noticed because of other things going on, but... Radiology Techs respond to Code Blue, too.
So, off I and another tech got moving. Quickly. We went to the ward where a patient was lying in his bed, while 10+ staff worked feverishly to keep him alive.
At one point, I counted over 15 responders, including security, nurses, respiratory techs, doctors, staff, and... two Radiology Techs. People rotated through doing the chest compressions as you can tire out easily.
Over the next 20 minutes, this team fought to keep him alive. I started to wonder if perhaps, he might not make it. It had been a long time. The odds didn't seem to be in his favor.
The family was called. I hoped that in their haste to rush to the side of their loved one that they'd be safe and not need their own emergency care. I can only imagine how some might react if called in the middle of the night and told their loved one had gone into cardiac arrest and may not be around long.
The other tech and I continued to talk... discussing various things, the shift, death, CPR, E... it meandered.
And then, beep.... beep... beep... I looked and could see his chest moving. He was making it! He wasn't going to die... not now, at least.
The crowd thinned, and we moved in and got out pictures to help document what may have caused the cardiac arrest.
And another successful day. I like my job!
15 February 2010
Notes on Love and Death @ AMERICAN DIGEST
A friend sent this over to me - thanks M*A.
I've read and reread now a few times... Think I'll read it a few more.
Notes on Love and Death @ AMERICAN DIGEST
I've read and reread now a few times... Think I'll read it a few more.
Notes on Love and Death @ AMERICAN DIGEST
14 February 2010
Valentines Day
Well...
Today is Valentine's Day. Seemed like just another day, here.
I remember well when I got excited about V day, but then, there was someone to get excited about.
One day, so I'm told, that excitement will return. I think I'm going to look forward to that.
In the meantime, I guess I've saved a little bit of $$$... LOL
I hope everyone else had a good day.
Today is Valentine's Day. Seemed like just another day, here.
I remember well when I got excited about V day, but then, there was someone to get excited about.
One day, so I'm told, that excitement will return. I think I'm going to look forward to that.
In the meantime, I guess I've saved a little bit of $$$... LOL
I hope everyone else had a good day.
Movies That HIT Me
I caught the tail end of "City of Angels". Ugh... I love this movie, and yet, it's so gut-wrenching to watch. Especially the end... seems very... familiar.
Let's not forget "What Dreams May Come"
Or "My Life".
There are quite a few that both reach out and touch me, and sometimes, sucker punched at the same time.
"Dear John" got me the other night... and I couldn't even figure out why. But, it did.
Wonder what other movies might have these effects?
Let's not forget "What Dreams May Come"
Or "My Life".
There are quite a few that both reach out and touch me, and sometimes, sucker punched at the same time.
"Dear John" got me the other night... and I couldn't even figure out why. But, it did.
Wonder what other movies might have these effects?
13 February 2010
Pink Glove Dance
A friend sent this to me... and I'm touched.
I also just ordered a box of pink gloves for me to use at work! Oh, that should definitely get the conversation going... LOL!
I don't see a military hospital ever doing this - which is a shame... sometimes we're so busy maintaining our "military bearing" that we lose ourselves in it.
I also just ordered a box of pink gloves for me to use at work! Oh, that should definitely get the conversation going... LOL!
I don't see a military hospital ever doing this - which is a shame... sometimes we're so busy maintaining our "military bearing" that we lose ourselves in it.
09 February 2010
Speech for Graduation
One of my former Sergeants recently asked me to write a speech for a Graduation of a RadTech student. Seems there was going to be a 2-star there, and they wanted something really good.
This is what I came up with:
This is what I came up with:
Speech for Graduation
Good morning. It is an honor and a privilege to speak to you today. For today, I have the distinct pleasure, as do all of you, of witnessing the future of our nation's Army at the beginning.
For many, the image held of our Army's Soldiers are of the warriors at the “tip of the spear”, our Infantry, Special Forces, and untold many who engage in direct combat with our country's enemies, all over the globe.
However, our Army is more than those War-fighters. It is true that they are unsurpassed in their capabilities and how they can bring the fight to the enemy, wherever they may be hiding. Those Soldiers would be ineffectual, at best, and likely defeated, were it not for the Soldiers who perform equally noble tasks, especially those in the Medical field.
Our Army's Medical Soldiers deliver a strength to the force that is envied throughout the world. Whether it's in Army hospitals such as Moncrief here at Fort Jackson, or major Medical Centers like Walter Reed, or even the battalion aid station attached to a small unit stationed far home in a country few may have heard of before, our Medical Soldiers deliver care to our Soldiers, and to their Families, and in some cases, even to those who a few moments earlier were our desperate enemy.
It is no easy task to become a Soldier in the Medical field. Not only do we as an Army expect all Soldiers to be capable of the universal Soldiering tasks – rifle marksmanship, combatives, for example – but they also must strive to have in depth, intimate knowledge of one of the world's most complex systems – the Human Body.
Within the Medical field, there are even more challenges. And it's a challenge that our graduating student, Private First Class #####, has risen to and achieved: That of being a Radiology Technologist.
Some of you may be unaware of what we require of our Radiology Technologist Soldiers. In the civilian world, the program of study is a minimum of two years. In the Army, we do it in eleven months. And this is no minor program. Our Radiology Technologists begin by learning essential medical care – the lifesaving techniques of CPR, IV insertion, and other skills needed by all medical staff. From there, they learn human anatomy, and not just the many bones of the body, but details which you and I may never have even known existed – the difference between a tuberosity and a tubercule, for example.
From there, the Army puts them through a study of electricity, physics, and nuclear radiation. If that's not enough, we give them an education on the effects of radiation on the body, down to the level of our DNA.
These Soldiers graduate Phase 1 in San Antonio with an encyclopedic volume of knowledge that impresses me every time I think about it. Our young Soldiers set the worldwide standard with their capability and knowledge. But as I said, they're only graduating Phase ONE. Afterwards, these Soldiers disperse to Army medical facilities across the United States to begin a practical demonstration and development of their skills. They spend nearly six months learning the art of the radiology craft; and it is an art form, for as we all know, every person is different. And in a field where you're taking pictures of that which you cannot see, it truly requires a special talent to develop that essential picture which gives our Doctors and Surgeons the ability to deliver the quality care that is expected and demanded worldwide.
During this second phase of their training, our Soldiers not only develop their skills in Diagnostic Radiology, but they will also begin their training in MRI, CT scans, and even Ultrasound. They learn Trauma Radiology, and learn to work not just in the health clinics, but in the unique environments of an Operating Room and the Emergency Room.
We always train our Soldiers to expect the unexpected; this is no less true in Radiology. The next exam may be a hand hurt when the patient fell down a staircase, or a twisted ankle, or perhaps a gunshot wound and the surgeons don't know where the bullet is, and it is up to a Soldier such as PFC ##### here to find that bullet to save that patient's life.
Our medical Soldiers provide this service twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. They are always on call, and practice their craft not just for our Soldiers, but for their families. Knowing we have the best medical staff in the world gives our deployed Soldiers that extra peace of mind; their families are well-cared for back home.
Perhaps the most unique task we ask of our medical Soldiers is to treat the enemy, as equally as we treat our own warriors. That insurgent who was wounded trying to explode a Vehicle-Borne IED at the guard gate is treated side-by-side, and without question, with the Soldier's comrades who manned that gate.
And when we combine all of these expectations, Ability to perform essential War-fighter tasks, comprehensive Medical knowledge and ability to perform your craft in any situation, and willingness to treat each patient, whether Soldier, Family member, or enemy, equally... you can see why we as an Army are fortunate to have elite Soldiers such as PFC #####, and countless others throughout this MOS.
It is their dedication to their knowledge, their skills, and to serving their country that helps make our Army.... your Army... ARMY STRONG.
Amelia Earhardt
Just finished watching the movie Amelia. I thought Hillary Swank was fantastic as the world's, to this day, most famous aviatrix, Amelia Earhardt.
I was especially touched by the quote at the end, which I've heard many a time in various forms:
As I continue facing my various challenges in Life, I'm reassured when people (like today by a close Friend) tell me that the Heart I show will get me through it.
We erect our own boundaries around ourselves more than any one else. If we follow our dreams, we can accomplish... anything.
I was especially touched by the quote at the end, which I've heard many a time in various forms:
"Everyone has oceans to fly, as long as you have the Heart to do it. Is it reckless? Maybe, but what do dreams know of boundaries?"
As I continue facing my various challenges in Life, I'm reassured when people (like today by a close Friend) tell me that the Heart I show will get me through it.
We erect our own boundaries around ourselves more than any one else. If we follow our dreams, we can accomplish... anything.
03 February 2010
My Love for Government Indoctrination Centers
I took M to school this morning (after a two hour "snow" delay). While signing her in, I noticed on the window sill the American flag - all balled up and waiting forlornly to fly from the flagpole.
After M was on her way, I asked the receptionist if she'd like me to raise their flag for them. Figured why not, being in uniform and all... Seemed a reasonable request.
She demurred, saying the custodians would ensure it was raised.
Sigh.
I countered with, "In that case, could someone please fold it properly so it's not sitting balled up on the window sill?"
She, without looking, tells me that it's not balled, but actually folded. Right.She then proceeded to get the flag, and... place it in a drawer.
I continue my love for Government Indoctrination Centers.
After M was on her way, I asked the receptionist if she'd like me to raise their flag for them. Figured why not, being in uniform and all... Seemed a reasonable request.
She demurred, saying the custodians would ensure it was raised.
Sigh.
I countered with, "In that case, could someone please fold it properly so it's not sitting balled up on the window sill?"
She, without looking, tells me that it's not balled, but actually folded. Right.She then proceeded to get the flag, and... place it in a drawer.
I continue my love for Government Indoctrination Centers.
27 January 2010
Fire in the Spacecraft
Over forty years ago, those words crackled over the radio down in Florida.
It signaled a tragic halt to a breakneck pace program to reach the moon; three astronauts died on the launchpad during a simple test.
The Apollo program is long finished, many of the participants buried years ago, and even the launchpad itself is now just a stark empty monument to what once happened there.
Yet the lesson endures, for those of us willing to pause long enough to learn from it.
Too often, the dangers that will harm us are not the ones for which we plan and engineer for or for what we anticipate... It's that which is overlooked. Three astronauts died, not in deep space, or while stuck on the moon... But while on the ground, atop an unfueled rocket, surrounded by thousands. Yet, the could not be saved. For all that had been planned, a simple spark on the ground doomed them.
Our lesson is don't overlook the small stuff, the inconsequential, the minute - that's what brings down giants.
In memory of Gus, Ed, and Roger... Who made it safe(r) for those who followed.
And for NASA's week of tragedy (all of NASA's loss anniversaries are this week.)
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
It signaled a tragic halt to a breakneck pace program to reach the moon; three astronauts died on the launchpad during a simple test.
The Apollo program is long finished, many of the participants buried years ago, and even the launchpad itself is now just a stark empty monument to what once happened there.
Yet the lesson endures, for those of us willing to pause long enough to learn from it.
Too often, the dangers that will harm us are not the ones for which we plan and engineer for or for what we anticipate... It's that which is overlooked. Three astronauts died, not in deep space, or while stuck on the moon... But while on the ground, atop an unfueled rocket, surrounded by thousands. Yet, the could not be saved. For all that had been planned, a simple spark on the ground doomed them.
Our lesson is don't overlook the small stuff, the inconsequential, the minute - that's what brings down giants.
In memory of Gus, Ed, and Roger... Who made it safe(r) for those who followed.
And for NASA's week of tragedy (all of NASA's loss anniversaries are this week.)
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
I Walk for One More
Yesterday, one of my beloved aunts, Deepe, succumbed to breast cancer. She's been battling for awhile now, and thankfully, she is now at peace.
She is now counted amongst the far too many whom this disease has claimed. And one more for whom I walk.
Rest in Peace, Deepe... And if you see, E, say hi for me...
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
13 January 2010
First Writing
For the past year, or so... I've been blocked. SERIOUSLY blocked. Not been able to write. Nearly nothing. You may have noticed the blog itself has slowed to a crawl.
Anyway, the other day, I had a very interesting experience, and shortly afterwards... felt the urge to write again.
And here it is. It's not my best stuff, and it's pure flow. When I write, I never know what I've written until I go back and read it anyway.
Anyway, the other day, I had a very interesting experience, and shortly afterwards... felt the urge to write again.
And here it is. It's not my best stuff, and it's pure flow. When I write, I never know what I've written until I go back and read it anyway.
Unfiltered confusion
Random discombobulation
Complete and open weakness.
I don't like feeling this way. So unavoidably defenseless. Outside of my comfort zone. And yet, not only here I am, but perversely I seem to be seeking it out.
Why?
Perhaps I've grown comfortable with my relationship, or rather lack of one, with god. It's certainly been easier. I can be pissed at him, and anyone who asks will feel that I'm justifiably angry and will leave it alone.
But deep down, in the lower sub-basements of my mind and soul, I don't think I've truly wanted that. Over time, I have felt cheated. Cheated out of so much.
Quite frankly, Life has sucked. I have had the absolute Love of My Life ripped from me, and done so as I begged and pleaded through prayer for it not to be so. And if there was ever an example of Robert Frost's two roads diverging in the wood, then surely that must be it. While there have been a few Distinctive Markers in my life time, no one stands as large nor as prominent as that one.
I've oft looked back and seen that day as god essentially giving me (and the whole family) the finger. As we prayed, and pleaded, and hoped against all hope for a different outcome, he essentially said, “No, and I'm not going to tell you why.”
As Life branched off onto this new path, it has been one of unending (and in my view, unnecessary) pain and suffering. Family ripped apart, children lost, chaos reigning. And... for what?
For what purpose?
That's been my question all along, I suppose. What purpose does this serve? I will happily suffer whatever I need to... I like to know why I'm suffering. And I don't know. I have no idea. I don't know why my family is suffering. I don't know. And not knowing, for me, is another kind of pain altogether.
And today, a man talked about serving out your purpose. It could have been the proverbial lightning bolt from the blue... aimed right at me.
For you see, I don't think I've ever really “lost” my faith – as I like to tell people – so much as I have shunned it. Sort of a hissy fit, perhaps... but if he didn't want to help us... or even clue us in on what he's up to, well, he doesn't really need me now does he? And if he can give me the finger, I can give it right back. Screw me? SCREW YOU.
And I have become comfortable in that. It's so easy to not have to put work into a relationship. And I didn't really want his love anymore anyway, seeing as he seemed to have a strange way of showing it. It's like how we marvel at women in abusive relationships... why don't they just leave? I felt emboldened... I'd done it... I'd left. SCREW HIM.
Like I said... comfortable. Until now.
A new friend has thrown me completely off my game. She's approached, saying he's speaking to her... trying to reach me. Says I'm not hearing him. Well, I can't argue that, because ever since I heard his silence that one day and night, can't say that I've been really wanting to hear anything else from him. Hate and Anger run deep and long.
Yet, she's quietly persisted, but not pushed. Just been there. I won't say a beacon of light, or the Hollywood halo of light around her. Think of it as maybe a lone match flickering.
But, it's been a bright light just the same. She's talked to me... and listened to my hate. My anger. And not shunned me. She's understood it. Told me I'm justified (Damn STRAIGHT!), and still the light shone. She still continued her diplomatic shuttle. I sort of see her in that role... shuttling messages back and forth between two nations that have no urge to talk to each other... but need to. Thankless task. And she's embraced it! Curse her for it.
I was comfortable in my distance. I didn't stop believing in him, after all... more I felt he'd stopped believing in me. I hadn't left him, you see – he'd left me. Us. And it's not easy to forgive the SOB for doing that.
And what made this all so awkward is that she's giving me messages that he's ready to welcome me back. Where does he get off? I want my apology. I want my mea culpa. I want to know WHY all this suffering. What has it been good for? What good works has this accomplished?
What is the purpose?
And we're back to that question. The purpose. A timeless one – Man's always wondered the Meaning of Life. Well, I'm not worried about such grandiose ideas... I've merely wanted to know my purpose. I cannot believe in a god who advocates needless suffering. If he's truly involved, if he's working his way through his creation to this very day, then I refuse to believe that he lets things happen mindlessly, because that's too close to perverse amusement. Therefore, suffering has purpose. What's mine?
What's my children's?
What's Ellicia's mother's?
And on and on the ripple effects have spread. What is all this suffering for?
The part that has really killed me, and has crystallized so sharply for me is this. I don't get to know. And thus I'm being introduced to a new definition of Faith. For many, Faith means believing in what you can't see – god. Well, I see him everywhere I look. I believe in his existence; I couldn't deny it if I tried, and I'm pretty good at arguing both sides of an argument.
It seems I have to take on Faith that the suffering serves a purpose. What will be, to me, a secret one.
I don't like it. It's out of my control, and I don't like not knowing. I am a resourceful person, and I can learn anything I want to learn – find out anything. I've had at times networks of people spread across the planet that quite often would bring me news before it ever hit the common knowledge. I like to know things.
And I don't get to know this.
I don't even get to know when the suffering will end, or I suppose, if.
But I do want to know MY purpose. What am I supposed to be doing with my Life right now? A boat tossing on the seas seems to have more direction than I.
Obviously, there's caring for my children. And I'm doing that the best way I know how, no matter how much I feel I fail them on a semi-constant basis. I'm told I do okay, so I must believe in that. Or go crazy.
My work seems to be a giant tease. I have great opportunities – chances to excel, to lead and develop Soldiers... but there always seems to be a “snag”, and there's also chances to help people... to tend to them, to treat them and yet, I always seem pulled somewhere else.
My beliefs are challenged as I love my country, and yet I must prepare, MUST prepare for what I foresee as its rapidly approaching end. One area of my life that I've had rarely misfired is in my ability to read and predict the political landscape. For once, I'd love to be wrong. I hope I am, but doubt I will. But, there is always hope for change.
I have developed friendships without which I doubt I'd survive another day. And most of those may truly be acquaintances, or buddies, but I count myself blessed (and if it's a gift from him, then I'll take it) to have my three F-R-I-E-N-D-S. They are the only people on this planet, outside of my children, for whom I'd give up everything if only asked. And they know me deeper than anyone. I'm lucky to have them.
It's a chaotic landscape my life. I wish it were not so. I miss what once was, my surefooted readiness and preparedness for each day. The confidence that I knew what was coming, that I was ready for anything.
That I knew what I was doing.
But the past is past, and that is gone. I have to look forward to what is coming.
For as it's said, the past is prologue. And if that is true, then all of this must be leading to something, no? Chapters in books aren't written just to be discarded as irrelevant to the plot.
Put another way – and I hate this phrase – everything happens for a reason.
What is my purpose?
Why am I doing this?
What is coming?
Why can't I see just a peek... help me prepare? I want to do this right.
What is coming?
Which brings me back to... today. Today, I heard a man ask that very question. What is our purpose? And directed that we serve our purpose.
My blood ran cold. I had goose bumps and chills. I had initially feared even being at that place. And then, I'd found myself not just wanting to be there, but pleading with my temper-tantrum throwing son to please stop, because I wanted needed to be in there. I desperately wanted to go inside. And then once there, I found I couldn't leave. My feet were sewn to the floor. I had to hear this.
And I listened. And my blood ran cold. My heart raced and slowed. I felt horribly uncomfortable and still couldn't leave. I had to be there. What chilled me even more was the thought in my head that there was no more important place to be than right there, right then at that moment.
Haven't felt that in awhile.
I'd missed most of the church service. The singing, or whatever else this church does. The preamble.
I'd even missed the first part of the sermon.
All I really had the chance to hear was... Serve your purpose.
And I am so very freaked out by this. I've shunned and stayed away... and the one time I go back... the first time I go back... with so many interruptions and challenges and reasons to run away.... I hear only half a sermon and it's message is: Serve your purpose.
Alright, god, you have my attention. Want to tell me what it is?
04 January 2010
A Good Thought
“Make no little plans. They have no magic to stir men’s blood and probably themselves will not be realized. Make big plans; aim high in hope and work, remembering that a noble, logical diagram once recorded will never die, but long after we are gone will be a living thing, asserting itself with ever-growing insistency. Remember that our sons and grandsons are going to do things that would stagger us. Let your watchword be order and your beacon beauty. Think big.”
—Daniel Burnham
—Daniel Burnham
03 December 2009
Voting 'Present' on Afghanistan
President Obama’s speech Tuesday night has been widely dismissed and panned in a rare display of bipartisanship. Democrats (or Liberals, if you prefer) are not happy because he promised to send more troops and deepen the war effort. Republicans (or as they’re sometimes known, Conservatives) are not happy because he didn’t send enough troops, set a deadline for withdrawal, and didn’t seem truly committed to The Cause.
Our President, who we remember from a year ago being swept into office amidst universal acclimation, love, hope, and nearly God-like adoration, managed to tick off just about everyone in the country in one speech. Truth be told, by initial reports, a lot of folks around the world may not be too pleased either.
So, how did Mr. Obama, after nearly three full months of careful, ponderous debate… considering every possible option… have managed to blow it? What’s particularly surprising is that he did it in a way that should have surprised… no one. Mr. Obama has previously shown a predilection for avoiding conflict, decisiveness, and wading bravely in front of a movement. As much as the previous White House occupant was mocked for his self-declaration, there was truly little doubt that he was a ‘decider’. Mr. Obama, on the other hand, in his Illinois legislature days showed a favored choice of not voting more liberal or conservative, but just… Present. The Safe alternative.
I have little doubt that the previous three months consisted of the President desperately wishing for this particular choice to pass him by. He’d have given Michele’s right arm if he thought it might have helped matters. Anything but make THIS decision. Essentially, it came down to: Should he aggressively advance the war, giving General McChrystal everything he asked for and needed to win, OR should he follow what he’d suggested for Iraq and begin the return home of our troops?
It was a decision fraught with consequences. With his popularity, and political cache declining, his marketability and power in Washington is steeply dissipating. This is currently evidenced by a Health Care bill which, once promised to be done by August, may be lucky to be completed before Christmas, and even then, it won’t be pretty. He would risk annoying a major constituency in some way no matter what he chose. Here he was, the most powerful man in America, able to fire CEOs, win Nobel Peace Prizes based on 12 days of work experience, and he’d been reduced to damned-if-he-did-and-damned-if-he-didn’t.
It’s ironical isn’t it that the President, who as a candidate had mocked his opponent as not being ready for the crisis 3 am phone call, was now wilting in the face of just such a decision? Even more so when that former opponent, now his Secretary of State, was speaking far more decisively and clearly about the decision ahead.
So, what did Mr. Obama do (besides hope for a sudden change in the situation)? He did what he often does, try to please everyone. He didn’t vote Yay for war or Nay – bring them home. He voted Present. Do both, yet neither.
And pleased no one. Not one person. There’s something to be said for being decisive, after all.
29 August 2009
Song That Touched Me...
I've had this on my iTunes for a bit... and it's just really touched me. So, I thought I'd share with you here...
19 July 2009
For All Mankind
Forty years ago, mankind as represented by Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed on the moon.
And nothing has been the same.
Human history is traditionally divided into BC and AD (or BCE/CE), yet it could just as legitimately be divided into BA/AA - Before Apollo and After Apollo. Before Apollo, we were a culture that had never journeyed beyond our home. And After Apollo, we were a mankind that could look up at the moon at night and know that there were twelve sets of footprints up there.
This is the main thrust of history as it's taught to us. Yet, as time passes, does this truth continue?
The story of Apollo contains not only one of mankind's greatest triumphs, landing and walking on the Moon, but also an enormous and growing tragedy - our failure to return. And this failure can be traced to the time immediately following the historical first steps and the beginning seeds of the television generation.
Apollo 11 was covered by the three networks at the time with constant and unceasing coverage. All moon, all the time. And even though Armstrong's first steps were taking place at a late time in the evening, Americans (and easily the whole world) were glued to their tv. Every possible moment was watched and absorbed like a sponge that could not be filled.
Until, it was over. President Kennedy's goal had been achieved, and the country's attention span turned. Not unsurprisingly, there was a letdown... a feeling of "been there, done that". And while Apollo 13 restored some drama, it was due to not going to the Moon.
In fact, by Apollo 13, the budget cuts had already begun, Apollo 20 had already been canceled, and Apollo 18 and 19 would soon be axed as well.
Americans were losing interest, and with that loss, NASA lost funding.
NASA refocused on the Space Shuttle and Americans turned their attention elsewhere. And with two notable exceptions, NASA has further cemented spaceflight as "routine". Their success at effectively turning the shuttle into something like an airline (all sorts of 'regular' people got to fly) became a downfall as the lustre of Apollo became a distant memory.
Now, the Shuttle is facing imminent retirement after nearly three decades of service. In orbit, there's a Space Station which is finally nearing completion, nearly twenty-five years after being first proposed. And while built with a large amount of American effort and American funding, soon there will be no American spacecraft to reach it.
America is working towards a new space system, called Constellation. Yet, it too is in doubt. Will NASA and the nation commit to its continued funding? Will we decide to stay in Low Earth Orbit, where our Shuttles have endlessly circled for thirty years? Will we embark to return to the Moon? Or will we commit to strike out for eventual journeys to Mars?
The answer to these questions will say as much about our budget priorities as it will say about us - as a nation and as a people.
President Kennedy also famously summed it up in his speech at Rice University. A year after setting America on course for the Moon, when the country's sum total of space travel experience was fifteen minutes and not even the first orbit of the Earth, he reminded us why we must embark on this journey. These words are as true now as they were then (start around :
Too often these days, we shy away from risk. Whenever things are hard and difficult, we often retreat to that which is more comfortable and sheltered. But reward is not without risk, and risk is out there. We need to explore. We need to embrace the risk... and conquer it. Nothing easy makes us stronger, as facing challenges does. And even failing makes us better.
Space travel, like aviation and many things before it, has its lessons written in the blood of those who've gone before. Fear of shedding the blood should not prevent us from writing the next chapter.
Let us end the tragedy of Project Apollo and restore the legacy of human exploration. It's time to leave home, again. The benefits are not for us alone, but for those around the world, and for those who come after us... in short, for all Mankind.
And nothing has been the same.
Human history is traditionally divided into BC and AD (or BCE/CE), yet it could just as legitimately be divided into BA/AA - Before Apollo and After Apollo. Before Apollo, we were a culture that had never journeyed beyond our home. And After Apollo, we were a mankind that could look up at the moon at night and know that there were twelve sets of footprints up there.
This is the main thrust of history as it's taught to us. Yet, as time passes, does this truth continue?
The story of Apollo contains not only one of mankind's greatest triumphs, landing and walking on the Moon, but also an enormous and growing tragedy - our failure to return. And this failure can be traced to the time immediately following the historical first steps and the beginning seeds of the television generation.
Apollo 11 was covered by the three networks at the time with constant and unceasing coverage. All moon, all the time. And even though Armstrong's first steps were taking place at a late time in the evening, Americans (and easily the whole world) were glued to their tv. Every possible moment was watched and absorbed like a sponge that could not be filled.
Until, it was over. President Kennedy's goal had been achieved, and the country's attention span turned. Not unsurprisingly, there was a letdown... a feeling of "been there, done that". And while Apollo 13 restored some drama, it was due to not going to the Moon.
In fact, by Apollo 13, the budget cuts had already begun, Apollo 20 had already been canceled, and Apollo 18 and 19 would soon be axed as well.
Americans were losing interest, and with that loss, NASA lost funding.
NASA refocused on the Space Shuttle and Americans turned their attention elsewhere. And with two notable exceptions, NASA has further cemented spaceflight as "routine". Their success at effectively turning the shuttle into something like an airline (all sorts of 'regular' people got to fly) became a downfall as the lustre of Apollo became a distant memory.
Now, the Shuttle is facing imminent retirement after nearly three decades of service. In orbit, there's a Space Station which is finally nearing completion, nearly twenty-five years after being first proposed. And while built with a large amount of American effort and American funding, soon there will be no American spacecraft to reach it.
America is working towards a new space system, called Constellation. Yet, it too is in doubt. Will NASA and the nation commit to its continued funding? Will we decide to stay in Low Earth Orbit, where our Shuttles have endlessly circled for thirty years? Will we embark to return to the Moon? Or will we commit to strike out for eventual journeys to Mars?
The answer to these questions will say as much about our budget priorities as it will say about us - as a nation and as a people.
"We came out of the cave, and we looked over the hill, and we saw fire. And we crossed the ocean, and we pioneered the West, and we took to the sky. The history of man is hung on a timeline of exploration, and this is what's next... We're meant to be explorers." - Aaron Sorkin, 2000
President Kennedy also famously summed it up in his speech at Rice University. A year after setting America on course for the Moon, when the country's sum total of space travel experience was fifteen minutes and not even the first orbit of the Earth, he reminded us why we must embark on this journey. These words are as true now as they were then (start around :
"We choose to go to the moon. We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win, and the others, too." - President Kennedy, 1962
Too often these days, we shy away from risk. Whenever things are hard and difficult, we often retreat to that which is more comfortable and sheltered. But reward is not without risk, and risk is out there. We need to explore. We need to embrace the risk... and conquer it. Nothing easy makes us stronger, as facing challenges does. And even failing makes us better.
Space travel, like aviation and many things before it, has its lessons written in the blood of those who've gone before. Fear of shedding the blood should not prevent us from writing the next chapter.
Let us end the tragedy of Project Apollo and restore the legacy of human exploration. It's time to leave home, again. The benefits are not for us alone, but for those around the world, and for those who come after us... in short, for all Mankind.
04 July 2009
Ellicia's Gravesite
It's still new, of course... the grave marker won't be in for a few months.
But for now, here is our new home. I don't plan on moving in anytime soon, of course... so until then, Ellicia will be keeping it cold for me.
She's in good company. Right in front, a beautiful place... the flagpole is a few yards away. She has troops from the War Between the States just behind her. Including some markers with the inscription "USCT" - United States Colored Troops. Now, that's history.
So, here's a peek at Section 4, Plot 171B.
But for now, here is our new home. I don't plan on moving in anytime soon, of course... so until then, Ellicia will be keeping it cold for me.
She's in good company. Right in front, a beautiful place... the flagpole is a few yards away. She has troops from the War Between the States just behind her. Including some markers with the inscription "USCT" - United States Colored Troops. Now, that's history.
So, here's a peek at Section 4, Plot 171B.
A Special Moment
Been wallowing a bit, feeling... lost. Adrift.
Anywho, I was detemined to really try to pull together for the holiday, and as part of the effort, we were going to have a family time... Is it the family that was? No, but it is the family that is.
Picked the kids up, and as a surprise, headed off to the local minor league baseball team statium for a baseball game! It was my first pro-game, and T's, too. M's third... which was good, cause this way she at least understood what was going on. While she may not yet grasp the infield fly rule, but then, who does... she does understand the basics of the game. T, on the other hand, was happy with learning that some guys were just trying to hit the ball, catch the ball, and run around the bases.
We had a great time... between ballpark feasting and the music, and their favorites, the mascots... it was fun.
And then (mercifully for some), the game ended.
And it was time to celebrate what M calls "A Special Day". First, the announcer had the music guy play the service songs. For those who don't know, this is a neat tradition. The Army, and I presume all the other branches, have a rule that when your song plays, you stand. And for those who aren't up on all the latest rules, the announcer will usually ask those present to stand whenever their affiliated service song plays.
So, the music starts, and the first song is... (instrumentally) "First to fight..."
HOOAH!
I stand. Cheering. Go Army! Looking down, I have two beaming smiles there. As a later conversation in the car made clear, these two children are all too aware of a) what Daddy does, and that b) it means being apart and c) sacrifices are involved. Yet, they are proud of their Daddy and what Soldiers do. 6 and 4, folks... 6 and 4.
The other services go through... and it's time for fireworks.
There were, predictably, the little babies who are terrified by fireworks, but not these two, they LOVED it. And while the fireworks flew, and we hugged, and oohed, and ahhed... I reflected on past 4ths.
I remember my first 4th with M... sneaking down from AIT to watch fireworks in Duck Ditch with E and her... she loved it then...
A year later, we were apart. I in Deutschland, and they waiting to come over in the States. However, the good news was that the 4th in that year was but a few weeks shy of a wonderful wedding. And the 4th at an overseas base is a unique experience.
The next year, the 4th was also spent apart. This time, I was again at an overseas base, but this time, it was in more hostile territory (hint, see name of blog). E was in Deutschland, and the family was larger. And it was still neat.
Following that came a together Fourth, the last... in Deutschland, too.
I'm kinda hazy on the next one. I really can't recall exactly what we did. I think the kids were with their grandfather, but... as that year totally sucked, much of it has been blocked.
We had a decent Fourth, well, sort of, after that... the fireworks were cool, but there was much tension around... not exactly a happy one.
And now, there was this experience. A restart. Independence from... the past? Hoping for a better future? I don't know, don't want to get too deep. However, sitting there... at a baseball game (of all places), I felt something that had been missing for a few Fourths.
Family.
They're getting so big, and starting to be their own individuals. And while they can be frustrating as kids are wont to do (and adults), I treasure them. They keep me going. And to hold them, and have them hug and lean into me, and ooh and ahh, cheering, as we sang (some knowing the words, others making up sounds as they go along) to the patriotic music, perhaps the best feeling was this:
Progress.
Not a huge step, but the biggest steps are often the smallest.
Happy Fourth, everyone!
Anywho, I was detemined to really try to pull together for the holiday, and as part of the effort, we were going to have a family time... Is it the family that was? No, but it is the family that is.
Picked the kids up, and as a surprise, headed off to the local minor league baseball team statium for a baseball game! It was my first pro-game, and T's, too. M's third... which was good, cause this way she at least understood what was going on. While she may not yet grasp the infield fly rule, but then, who does... she does understand the basics of the game. T, on the other hand, was happy with learning that some guys were just trying to hit the ball, catch the ball, and run around the bases.
We had a great time... between ballpark feasting and the music, and their favorites, the mascots... it was fun.
And then (mercifully for some), the game ended.
And it was time to celebrate what M calls "A Special Day". First, the announcer had the music guy play the service songs. For those who don't know, this is a neat tradition. The Army, and I presume all the other branches, have a rule that when your song plays, you stand. And for those who aren't up on all the latest rules, the announcer will usually ask those present to stand whenever their affiliated service song plays.
So, the music starts, and the first song is... (instrumentally) "First to fight..."
HOOAH!
I stand. Cheering. Go Army! Looking down, I have two beaming smiles there. As a later conversation in the car made clear, these two children are all too aware of a) what Daddy does, and that b) it means being apart and c) sacrifices are involved. Yet, they are proud of their Daddy and what Soldiers do. 6 and 4, folks... 6 and 4.
The other services go through... and it's time for fireworks.
There were, predictably, the little babies who are terrified by fireworks, but not these two, they LOVED it. And while the fireworks flew, and we hugged, and oohed, and ahhed... I reflected on past 4ths.
I remember my first 4th with M... sneaking down from AIT to watch fireworks in Duck Ditch with E and her... she loved it then...
A year later, we were apart. I in Deutschland, and they waiting to come over in the States. However, the good news was that the 4th in that year was but a few weeks shy of a wonderful wedding. And the 4th at an overseas base is a unique experience.
The next year, the 4th was also spent apart. This time, I was again at an overseas base, but this time, it was in more hostile territory (hint, see name of blog). E was in Deutschland, and the family was larger. And it was still neat.
Following that came a together Fourth, the last... in Deutschland, too.
I'm kinda hazy on the next one. I really can't recall exactly what we did. I think the kids were with their grandfather, but... as that year totally sucked, much of it has been blocked.
We had a decent Fourth, well, sort of, after that... the fireworks were cool, but there was much tension around... not exactly a happy one.
And now, there was this experience. A restart. Independence from... the past? Hoping for a better future? I don't know, don't want to get too deep. However, sitting there... at a baseball game (of all places), I felt something that had been missing for a few Fourths.
Family.
They're getting so big, and starting to be their own individuals. And while they can be frustrating as kids are wont to do (and adults), I treasure them. They keep me going. And to hold them, and have them hug and lean into me, and ooh and ahh, cheering, as we sang (some knowing the words, others making up sounds as they go along) to the patriotic music, perhaps the best feeling was this:
Progress.
Not a huge step, but the biggest steps are often the smallest.
Happy Fourth, everyone!
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