The World is Spinning Faster

Wow so much has happened since my last blog.   I died.......

okay so maybe not that dramatic.  my mom died, my son was in a coma for two weeks, (almost two years ago now), same son got married a couple of weeks ago.  so proud for him, and I have a beautiful new Daughter in Law.

My wife and I broke up, then got back together, I now live in a 31 foot 5th wheel with her.  we have both been having pretty serious health issues, so living this way allows me to work and pay all the bills, and insurance, co-pays, electric, cable.... you get what I mean.  This allows me to take care of us both.  (she isn't able to work), but she is still my loving bride. you know, better or worse, sickness and in health....

I've lost track of ASH.  I hope she is still okay, I always enjoyed her blog (the Tuckerbag) I hope she is somewhere doing okay.  she just went quiet, and haven't seen any updates on her.

I now have two stents in my heart to add to my medical resume.  Getting old ain't for sissies!!

I do get to hang out with some good Ranger Buddies of mine, and one in particular, (more like a brother to me), I get to see pretty regular.  we work together a bit, and hang out with each other when we can.

I am turning 52 this year, and I know this isn't a funny, or entertaining story on the blog, but I needed to update it before I can add to it.  The world is spinning faster as I get older.  I don't know if anyone will ever read this stuff but here it is.  at least I have made an attempt to show I was once here.

Way too long!!

Wow it is amazing how quickly time rolls by. I just finished getting Caught up on Glenns, "to simplify" after get this over a year. How the heck did that happen?  Wondering if Ashley is still around?
I've had an additional back surgery 4 screws, 2 pins, and a cage. almost Bionic now.

I've recently been delt some bad news. perhaps a little on that later.. we will see. but for now, glad to see everyone.

Getting Better

Ok wow. i had the back surgery, and i feel soo much better!!  i am 4 weeks post op, and i am really glad i did this.  I read so many horror stories, i almost changed my mind again, but in the week before surgery i had my back go out badly again, and it was the worst yet!  so i did it, and now i can't believe it. so much better.  Working through the other issues, is still easier when i am not in continuous pain.  So, here we go. To quote an old unit motto, "Tojours, En Avant!", forever forward.  Perhaps the sun will find a way to shine again.  and yes folks, that is a metaphor... LOL. have a great day all.

ok what part do you want?

Since no one, except sometimes Ash reads this.  I need to expound.  No i need to scream, cry, pitch a fit, get drunk or something.  I am so tired.  for over a year now i have been fighting with the IRS, Social Security, Work, moving, and now Back Surgery, that i have put off for over five months, but now i have to get it done.  Beware.. if you ever become disabled, do not do the honorable thing and even attempt to get your life back, and go back to the land of hard working people trying to make it on their own.  Between the IRS, and Social Security, they will make sure all your hard earned money for a hard weeks work for almost the rest of your life, goes directly into their pocket so they can buy those  dog damned $16.00 muffins, for their meetings.  Shit i can't afford $16.00 a meal to feed me and my wife.  i drive a POS of a car, live in a very small apartment, Not townhouse, Not condo, just a regular Apartment. i work my ass off, i work on weekends when i can get extra jobs, and my severly damaged back allows me too.  Then i spend days after work on the heating pad to try to relax enough so i can get a little sleep, wake up and go do it all over again the next day.  Yeah i know poor little Hank, and i agree. but Dammit, i need a break, i need to catch a break.  No i don't think it's going to happen.  I know the good book says, he won't put on us more than we can shoulder, but he is giving me waaaay to much credit.  Our goverment has private fitness clubs, $12.00 cups of coffee, $16.00 muffins, and are above the law, and preach like a mofo about how we need to conserve money, you know do more with less.  Guess what? Landlords and utility companies don't take less, for more!!! This blog isn't going to change anything, but at least it gives me somebody to bitch to.  I am a service connected Disable vet.  Used to be on disability, i served my country, as well as serving my community as a police officer, until i became unable to do so.  I decided i wanted to work, try and do better for my family.  So about 8 years ago i did just that.  And the goverment says, well if you went back to work, regardless of the intestinal fortitude it took to do so, then you weren't that bad before.  We need all the money back, with interest, penalties, etc. that we gave you before, with interest higher than i would pay at a local bank. and we want to charge you for 6 years of past taxes, because you didn't pay them correctly, and yes, penalties, interest and anything else we can do. W.T.F?  So much for being a proud man, and working at an honest job, trying to make a living not on social programs funded by everyone else.  anyway there it is.... my peace.  No change, no real hope, but there it is.  So here i sit, my first real break of the day at with an attempt of normal face on, so as not to concern anyone and visualize how many hands are reaching for more.   Good day to all, and god bless........

Bus Baby and the Bucket of Steam

Back in the late seventies, and early 80's, while i was in high school, i worked at a restaurant on the gulf.  Shell point restaurant.  Great place! Unfortunately, time and progress occured and it is no longer there.  Many of us "Beach kids" had our jobs there while going to school.  live band and parties every friday and saturday nights.  so Kewl.  Mr G. our boss, Gernard is his name, was known to have an ill temper.  he opened the restaurant at 4:30 a.m. for the fisherman, and sometimes we closed at 2:00 a.m. the next morning ( on weekends).  Now in between breakfast and lunch, gernanrd would go home for a few hour nap, while we kept the restaurant going, cooking, serving, washing, etc, duing the lunchtime hours.  Now almost all us beach kids, had picked up nick names from various screw-ups, or talents, etc.  Sir John, Bolish (me), creepin chris, honey wagon, etc.  i'm sure you get my drift.  I had a good friend that wanted to work at the Rest., but was not exactly "our" sort of guy that we hung with (we were beach brats), but i put in a word for him, and he picked up a job.  Now all us "cool beach kids" worked in the kitchen.  it was the place to be.  and my friend Bus baby, got a job bussin tables.   we teased him so much about "wearing a skirt to bus tables, with the rest of the women, that after about his 8th day on the job, he broke down in tears.  EUREKA!!!! Bus Baby Was Born.  After a while, he finally got moved to the kitchen, washing dishes.  still didn't quite fit in, but we put up with him, after all we needed someone to pull our pranks on.  after a while you know em all, and don't get caught in them. LOL.  When Gernard would go home for his naps, he would always assign a list of chores to get done, beside the regular prep and serving.  On this particular day, Bus Baby got assigned, cleaning the vents abover the fryers, and grills.  (Nasty Job).  Now Gernard, me, sir John, and Honey Wagon all had this worked out the day before.  Shell point consisted of a cool beach, restaurant, marina, motel, and effeciency apartments.  all owners and workers were like a family.  Bus baby worked real hard, on those vents, and us guys kept saying, "Bus i don't think they are clean enough"......... after 3 hours of sweating and toiling, on the "clean" vents, lol.  he was convinced they were clean.  Well 3:00 arrives, and Gernard comes in.. in a bad mood as always, but remembering what we had set up.  he walks around the kitchen looking at all the things that were on the list.......shaking his head in approval at each one.... while we in the kitchen were all business. doing our usual thing.  Until he gets to the vents...... at literally the top of his lungs, he yells!  who in the hell tried to clean these GD vents???? they look like shit, i'm firing the SOB who did this half ass job.   Bus baby froze with the deer in the headlights look.

Bus baby exclaims, i worked 3 hours on it, i thought they were clean.!!!  Gernard, reaches around, grabs an open top 5 gallon buckets, throws it across the kitchen toward Bus Baby, and says get yer ass down to the marina, and get some steam.  these damn things have to be steam cleaned you idiot!!!  Bus grabs the open top 5 gallon bucket runs out the back door, towards the marina, at a full gallop.  about 5 minutes later Gernards wife Joan, came back to the kitchen to find us all crying with tears of laughter.  says Wright at the Marina wants to know, what the hell that boy wants?? said he keeps asking for steam???  Gernard laughed, said, tell wright, to tell Bus baby, he is out of steam, until 6:00, that when his shipment comes in...  so she did.  the whole kitchen crew, the waitresses, and the reigning Bus Girl, waited around the corner of the back double doors.  when he was close enough, walking ever so slowly, dreading to tell Gernard he couldn't get the steam, carrying that empty 5 gallon bucket... gets close enough.. we swung open the back doors, and EVERYBODY  starts clapping......  Bus Baby's face turned 5 shades of gray and red, (No he wasn't going to get fired, but he had been royally had!).  and just sat down on the ground, not sure to laugh or cry....  oh how i miss the good old days....  and the best damn restaurant, and crew, that ever served fresh gulf seafood, in the state of Florida.

AIRBORNE!!!!

i'll start where it all began so to speak.  as a senior in high school, i decided to enlist in the early enlistment program.  i.e.  you enlist, when you graduate, uncle Sam already owns you.  kind of takes the guess work out of what to do after you graduate, and cannot afford college.  So while a senior in high school, the recruiter takes me and several other boys to Ft. Benning Ga. (Home of the Infantry) where i would complete Basic Training, AIT, and then Airborne.  He showed us a nice apartment looking barracks complex know has Sand Hill, or (Sand Hilton).  I thought yeah this modern Army is for me.  Now when i arrived approximately 4 months Later and arrived at Harmony Church (old WWII barracks) i was sure they had delivered me to the WRONG PLACE!  Now my drill instructor explained <Grin> that i was indeed in the right place.  I found there was a hell, and it was located in Georgia.  anyway, soon three of us recruits all headed for the Ranger Battalion, became close friends.  insomuch that any time one was in trouble or did something stupid, the other two ended up doing pushups as well as the offender.  After a while we were the most "in shape" recruits in the platoon.  Me, Riordan, and Torres.  life was never, EVER dull with us three.  always some kind of crap going on. (more on that later, today we are talking about being Airborne.  Well the three of us, graduated Basic, and AIT. and went on to Airborne school, also at Ft Benning Ga.  Zero week, ground week, tower week, and finally we get to try our skills out at 3000 feet. woo hooo yeah HARD CORE!  well there we are in the back of a C130 transport, all chuted up, waiting to arrive somewhere above the drop zone.  all the hard core troops, are as silent as church mice........  Finally the Jump Master leans out the door and gives us the commands to stand up, Hook up, Face the door, Equipment check, and ready to roll.  (now here i have ommited a  most important portion of this story). good story tellers sometimes do this.  But 20 minutes back, while sitting in this plane, rocking all over the place, the plane sounding like its gonna stop flying at any moment. Torres look at me and Riordan, and as quietly as could be and still be heard, "I AINT JUMPING!" me and riordan said WHAT???  he said the Army screws everything up.  these chutes probably won't open.  and folks, at 3000 feet, you don't want to have to guess .. was it a sgt, or a PVT that packed my chute... so fast foward, there we are standing and now moving foward to the door, the troops already jumping one by one.   Torres, the one in front of the line of the three of us, starts screaming and shouting  , NO NO NIOOOOOO i ain't going..My heart just about dropped to my knees.  The jump master unhooks him throws him up against the bulkhead, starts screaming at him, cussing him, calling him a GD Commie, and all sorts of names that question your manhood.  He looked at me, and screamed what the hell you waitin on get the hell off my aircraft.  Before i had a chance to think what was worse, the jump master, or hitting the ground without my chute opening. .... i jumped!  and that is how i became AIRBORNE.  Not from bravery, but being more scared of the jumpmaster, than the ground below..  Riordan, and i made it through Jump school, and the Rangers, and torres had to do the walk of shame, and failed jump school.  i never saw Torres again.  so heres to you buddy.  I hope your life, and heart has been full! <cheers>.

2nd Louie, and the bud patch....

Ok, so the year is 1984, the place is somewhere overseas....  We had just gotten a brand spanking new 2nd Louie.  (2nd LT.), still had the new Louie smell..  He was assigned to our platoon, the the new platoon leader.  Now the old joke in the Army was, what is the difference between a 2nd Louie, and a PFC?? the PFC has been promoted twice.  2nd LT = book knowledge, no real time experience.  Anyway, our platoon SGT was an E-7 SFC, ex-Vietnam Vet.  Tons of experience.   The Lt wanted to take his (NEW) platoon on a long range recon, and assured the SFC that "he had this!!"  and he wanted to lead the platoon...  ok is anyone seeing a potential problem starting to arise?   So here we go, after about 5 hours, the SFC stops the patrol, and decided to have a word with the 2nd LT.  we were a "bit" off course.  The LT told the Sarge, that we were making better time by going this route.. The SGT tried to explain, that not "all" the landscape is safe to traverse.  To this the LT responded, that "his" troops, were tested airborne infantry, and could handle any terrain, and to let him lead the patrol!  with a sly grin the SGT followed orders from a (superior ranking, and inferior intelligence officer).  a little while later as we are trudging along, there comes this very distinct odor.....  and anyone that has ever been within 20 feet of a small plastic baggie containing "buds" know what i am describing here.  Hemp, tijuana tomatoe plants, mary Jane, so many colorful names.  The shiny new LT has no idea what this is, doesn't even notice that we are in the smack dab middle of an extremely well cultivated crop, of approximately 8-9 foot plants.  The smell was overwhelming.  Finally the SFC comes foward, (he had been following the patrol from the rear) (probably to keep from strangling the LT), and pulled the LT aside and explained to him where we were, and what the "Unique Flora" that we were all standing in was..... So the LT had no idea what to do... The SFC took over and got us the hell out of "Columbian" territory, and a safe distance away.  The SFC got us all in a proper formation, with all our gear.  He said he "understood" how trampling through that stuff, it could "possibly" stick to clothes, pockets, and gear.  He an the LT were going to go over the little ridge for about 15 minutes, when they got back we were having a full blown field inspection, all gear unloaded, and laid out for inspection on poncho's, and all troops would be in their skivvies only for this inspection..   All you could see for the first five minutes was thos pretty leaves and buds hitting the ground, behind the formation.  when it was all said and done, and the inspection completed, i would guess at perhaps 20-25 pounds of it lay in a heap, behind the formation, (so as not to incriminate) anyone....  that stuff is so sticky.. you would never have guessed that much would "stick" to clothing, and work it's way inside ruck sacks.   after we were all cleared, the SFC honor reclaimed, the LT proving that he was the idiot we all expected.... we continued on with the objective... The SFC in the lead.....