Self examination Part I Grade School and Jr. High

As usual remember the disclaimer in the About Me section of this blog.

So today I’m going to take you with me as I relive experiences from my past to help explain who I am today. What prompted this ? I somehow happened across the program “Sex Rehab” on VH1. This was purely by accident as I seldom watch this station, but even if you aren’t into pop culture, this program is worth watching if you have the time. One of the things patients going through this program are encouraged to do, is look back on past experiences to help them understand the chain of events that brought them to the point they are at today.

This is something I’ve long resisted because I don’t want to be one of those people who blames their mistakes on something or someone else. You’ve all seen those people on Oprah or whatever white trash talk show program, whining about the reason they are a crack addict or bad worker, who can’t hold a job, on their parents not loving them enough or some such b.s. excuse. I am with you on taking a negative view on that. But at the same time this show helped me realize that we are all a product of our past experiences and we need to understand them to understand who we are today and how to not repeat the same mistakes. Before I begin, please understand that I accept full responsibility for my mistakes, I do not blame anyone or anything for them or for who I am today. ADD is NOT an excuse, it is just who I am. Also, I am very fortunate to have very supportive parents and friends. If anything, I have a concern for my parents because they wrongfully feel no small measure of guilt for not catching my condition early on in my childhood. There is no reasonable way it could have been caught given the state of Western Medicine’s understanding of ADD in the late 80’s-early 90’s along with how my ADD type showed itself.

So getting on topic here, one of the things they did on the last program, was draw a shirt that represented themselves and explain it. If it had been me, I would have draw a shirt with a dog-faced GI resembling something from the WW II Patrick Muldoon portrayal of GI’s or literally a scarred-up junkyard guard dog. In many ways I identify with those battered, ugly, undignified characters who somehow always find a way to get things done. While society often sees them as unwanted, society still calls upon them in their time of need because they can be counted on in those times. Yet those very same characteristics that make them desirable when the wolf is knocking on the door, also make them a liability in the calm between those times. They are loners, who don‘t fully understand the main stream society, that they struggle to be accepted by. And likewise main stream society doesn’t always accept them because main stream society doesn’t understand them. Both of us find interaction with the other very stressful and struggle to find a comfort level with the other. I’ll make more sense of that later on but with that in mind, lets start from the beginning.

I have always been a loner, sometimes by choice, many times not by choice. As far back as I can remember, I’ve struggled to fit in and be part of the crowd, but somehow always ended-up drawing unwanted attention to myself despite my best efforts. A revolving theme here is that kids would pick on me for being different, which would intern make me mad, which would intern provoke them to harass me more since they derived immense entertainment from my wild tantrums. Having red hair and poor social skills as it was, made me a very easy target in grade school through late high school. One incident that really stands out, happened in the third grade. I was playing a game of tag with a group of kids during recess. For starters, I had to practically beg them to let me play in the first place. They all ganged-up on me and whoever I tagged would tag me back or tag someone else who would tag me back. Eventually I lost my temper and went off to another side of the yard to calm down. Well they saw me getting frustrated and followed me, calling me names and so forth. Before I knew it, the entire play ground of say 50 kids was following me and the things they were saying were getting to me and I started to cry. Of course this only made things worse and a chant of some kind started going on, then someone threw a rock that caught me in the side of my head. To this day I don’t know who it was, but it caused me to snap. I turned around and grabbed the first boy I saw, whipped them into a head lock and threw them to the ground while throwing punches into his face. My adrenaline was flowing so much that I didn’t realize twelve other kids were jumping and stomping on us as we struggled on the ground, the boy being unable to free himself from my grip. To this day it bothers me, because it turned out that I had grabbed hold of Clint a fellow redhead who had been coming from the other side of the yard to my aide. Probably the one kid who would have stood-up for me, and I grabbed hold of him in my blind rage. He was just in the path of the tornado and we were never friends again, even in high school. I think my reaction to what was happening was to be expected and as much as anything, I’m very angry with the playground teacher who didn’t step in before a fight happened. This teacher was a Special-Ed teacher who of all the staff, should have been aware of what was happening. She worked everyday with special needs kids, and knew how this kids are treated by the rest of the children. Playground bullying stories were something she had to deal with everyday I the course of her work. Furthermore this chain of events clearly wasn’t going to end well and that should have been obvious to her long before the fight started. Why she did not step in when it became obvious that every single kid was following me, I never knew and it upsets me to this day. While in the inevitable meeting with the principle, she gave a very detailed account of the entire course of events. So its clear she had been watching the thing play out. She also recommended no disciplinary action for me. In hindsight, I fully believe she did so, to cover-up the fact that she had screwed-up big time. She knew my parents took an active role in my education and would have contacted the school and most likely wanted a meeting with her and the principle, Mrs. Beverly, whom they had a good relationship with. My mother taught in my school system for several years and had a lot of good relationships with the faculty. Mind you my parents were big on discipline so it would not necessarily have been to argue on my behalf but to get a better understanding of what had actually happened so they could better address the situation with me. It would have been a certainty that at minimum they would have called, if any kind of notice been sent home about little Mikey being in a fight. No nice what to say it, what a stupid, incompetent bitch that special-Ed teacher was. I also have feelings of guilt because I caught hold of the one person who would have had my back (Clint) and took it out on him. I regret never giving him the apology he is entitled to. Poor guy was simply caught in the path of the tornado.

I also regret not treating the other loner kids better than I did. I didn’t want to be their friends anymore that the rest of the kids wanted to be my friend. Painful as it is to admit, I picked on them a few times because I was grateful not to be among those being picked on some particular days and was also trying to make an attempt to fit in with the very same kids who, more days than not were tormenting me. I probably hurt them worse since I had been their friend or acted like it from time to time. I’m sure that just as I carry the scars from my tales of rejection, they have scars from the rejection given by my hand as well. I’m sure theirs are probably are much deeper having come from a kid who only a day before had acted as a friend to them. If any of you are out there are among those whom I picked on at times while going to school at Farmer Elementary, please accept my sincerest apologies. And Ms. X the playground teacher on that particular day, should you read this, allow me to sincerely say, “Go to HELL !!!”, you define the term incompetent BITCH and you give good teachers a bad name !!!

I think what came of that whole incident was that whatever chance I had of fitting in socially was gone. Also if I wasn’t a target for regular school yard harassment before that, I dam sure was after that. Granted there were a few minor skirmishes through out that time, but the next big one wouldn’t be till several years later in high school. My memory is sketchy on it, but it was definitely bad. Probably my subconscious has blocked most of it out preventing me from any specific recollection. I do remember a 5th grade health class where Mr. Foust pointed out my freckles to illustrate the different genetic variations of skin pigmentation and how I almost felt naked and embarrassed as this very unwanted spot light was thrust upon me. I also specifically remember spending most recesses in his classroom working on computer games because I had over heard kids scheming to attack me on the playground or arrange some sort of embarrassing harassment for me at one point or another that year. Whatever happened between third grade and the end of fifth grade has so impacted me, I know for a fact, that I made a deliberate decision to withdrawal from the rest of the children and deliberately isolate myself rather than subject myself to their daily taunting. The condition isn’t sever but one of the things kids were always taunting me about was my funny walk. I walk funny for a reason, I was born with a crocked leg. Mind you it isn’t noticeable and the doctors were able to correct the worst of it by having me wear a cast for my first year or so. But to this day, I walk funny. I bring this up because so desperate was I to avoid taunting, I caused myself some serious back problems trying to walk “normally” during this time. Combined with an injury suffered weight lifting, and I spent a lot of time at the chiropractor’s office from 7th-12th grade.

This would become so much so, that until the end of my 8th grade year, with few exceptions, most teachers would scarcely know I was in their classroom. I know this because my mother had actually taught Jr. High math at that school until just two years prior to me getting there. So she had a lot of contacts with those teachers and as I mentioned earlier, my parents were very involved in my education. Those teachers would express this concern wondering if there was something wrong when Mom and Dad would ask. Even then, I would still be subject to regular taunting from a whole different group of kids, for attention I received for a whole different reason. You see, I had a mild form of dyslexia, that had been caught in the first grade and had spent many hours in eye therapy.

By the end of the fifth grade, I started reaping the rewards of these efforts and had managed to become a stand-out student academically. So it wasn’t that the teachers didn’t know I was there. I would maintain straight A’s from the end of fifth grade till the end of eighth grade. Grades became my obsession because it was the only thing I was successful at. It was very hard for me, but I lived a very Spartan routine often studying six hours a day to maintain this GPA. So I couldn’t hide from the spotlight because I was always getting recognized for various academic accolades. So still I would suffer the slings and arrows of envious children who were trying to put me down in an effort to build themselves up. A kid by the name of Jason would torment me so much, on more that a few occasions Mom and Dad would meet with his parents and school administrators to find ways to deal with the situation. At one point things were so bad, at my parents request, he and I’s class schedules were changed so we weren’t always running into each other. By that time, I was enrolled in Fairview Jr. High which was the central Jr. High and High School for all the small elementary schools in the district. Any hope of a fresh start with new kids, was ruined when Jason and I crossed paths while attending 6th grade there. I can’t point to the exact chain of events, but it was early on in the school year when I became his chosen target. In hindsight, I realize Jason also had some sort of learning disability quite possibly the hyper active type of ADD where as I have the inattentive kind. I do know that he wasn’t a good student and even then realized he was trying to make-up for his lack of such academic prowess. Inside he felt that he was stupid and projected this insecurity onto me. I know this because the parents of one of the few friends I had, actually tutored him and was actively involved with my parents and school administrators in dealing with the situation. Also, Jason is now the landlord of a piece of property next door to my parents, and so our paths have crossed a few times since high school and we get along fairly well. If the neighbors are causing problems, Jason is very quick to deal with it and our families get along just fine. Crazy how things work sometimes.

Moving along, there were also two very positive stories that came out of my jr. high experiences that also had long term ramifications. First, I discovered the sport of wrestling and wrestling would help my development into manhood in so many ways. Now I did not willingly go out for the sport, but Mom and Dad felt some kind of participation in athletics was important to my overall growth. I was made to pick a sport, I could pick any sport, but I had to participate in one. Well basketball and football were what all the popular kids, who made-up the vast number of my tormentors, played ; so I wasn’t having that which left me with wrestling or track. I had participated in a peewee wrestling program while in the 5th grade and I didn’t know anything about track, so I chose wrestling. I could not have made a better choice. Wrestling is mainly an individual sport, which fitted my loner mentality well. It is also a very physically intense sport requiring great discipline to master, which also suited my ADD mentality. While I was never a super-stud, the physical discipline and confidence I gained from wrestling has served me well to this day. The confidence it gave me, was the catalyst that allowed me to go on to be a good soldier, and venture into the unknown world of college, and the experiences of the military and college have shaped me into the adult you know today. I can’t say enough good things about the sport, it really helped me out that much.

Also another positive experience I had in jr. high, was meeting a wonderfully sweet girl by the name of Jami. Jami was my first crush and while we would never actually date, she remains a friend to this day. Jami was everything I wasn’t. Gifted student who never had to study, very gifted athlete who ran with the “cool kids” if you will. But Jami was always nice to me, and she’d often go out of her way to say hello. I laugh when I think about it, but I was so shy by then I could barely muster the courage to say hello back. We had a math class together. The period before that class, I had a study hall, and I’d often get a pass to go to the band room to practice. But while in one of the “practice” rooms instead of practicing the tuba, I’d practice saying hello to Jami or simple jokes to make her smile. Over and over again I’d imagine her there and practice talking to her. I’d then go to math class and quite robotically say these practiced lines to her. Its safe to say, if I hadn’t met Jami, I might still be too shy to talk to girls. She was so nice, she never would judge my awkward efforts at conversation and talk to me like she would any of her cool friends. While we would never date, I would never have gotten any dates at all, had it not been for that relationship, which allowed me to overcome the overwhelming shyness I had around women. Math was never my strong subject anyhow, so it wasn’t like I was missing much by paying Jami so much attention. J As a side note, Jami still lives in my hometown area, has married a man just as nice as she is (I‘m NOT him), and teaches kindergarten at a neighboring school district. Its my understanding they recently had their first child. I still run into her every once in a while when I visit home as she’s friends with one of our neighbors although the last time we spoke I’d guess has been close to two years ago. I’m very happy for her and wish her and her family all the joys and happiness life can bring.

Now as I write this, I realize we’re at five pages on the old world processor, so I’m going to bring section one to a close and post another entry later this week. I think the experiences of elementary school and Jr. High did was shape me into the loner I’ve become. They made me immensely distrustful of anyone I associate as being part of my peer group. To this day I prefer keeping to myself and it takes great effort for me to engage in social activities. Whether we’re talking about a work social function or meeting a group of people for a barbeque, it takes immense effort for me to work-up the motivation to even show-up. When I do, after saying hello to the host and dignitaries, I tend to migrate to the corner of the room or far end of the bar engaging in small talk with the occasional straggler. I get extremely nervous moving about carrying food or revisiting the snack tray, always feeling like people staring holes through my chest waiting for me do something that will give them fodder to taunt me with. I’ll stay up the rest of the night fretting that people will conclude that I’m stupid because I accidentally bumped into someone, or scratched that nagging itch on the back of my knee. I imagine them whispering about me at work the next day because I nearly dropped an appetizer on someone while sneezing. In reality while that can happen sometimes, by an large its all in my head. In adult life more than once I’ve apologized to someone for a faux-pas I’ve spent several sleepless nights worrying over, only to find out that the person I was certain I offended hadn’t even noticed or didn’t find it to be anywhere near as serious as I was certain it was. A couple of them have even given quizzical looks as though I was crazy. Its also ingrained in me this anticipation that I’m always on the verge of certain disappointment. My heart has been broken and disappointed too many times in the past, that I instinctively protect myself by anticipating the worst. But I don’t think at this point I had yet developed the defensive mentality complex I’ve had to overcome. It certainly pointed me down that road though. That mentality would develop later. For that you’ll have to wait and read part II : High school, Puberty, Renewed efforts to fit in, and The glorious and very public failure it turned into.

Hear ye Hear ye a new blog entry posted by morning True insight into the issues dealing with mental illness

My next piece will be an introspective examination of past experiences and how they've effected who I am and what I've become. When you do read it, be sure you have a box of tissues handy because it will be emotional.

http://becomingjennie.wordpress.com/

http://becomingjennie.wordpress.com/

Went for a "quick" erron run two days after Thanksgiving. What was I thinking ? !!!!! & How I am ADD Proofing my FLASH DRIVE

****Important Disclaimer. My legal team has asked me to error on the side of caution and make sure to add the following disclaimer. In this article I will be discussing different types of technology. I can not emphasize the following enough. The views and ideas expressed in this article in NO way represent the official views and policies of my employer, nor should they be interpreted as such. They are my OWN opinions and ideas and no one else's If you happen to know who my employer is and want to know their official views, I would advise you to go to their website and look for their consumer and/or public relations contact information. The people in that department do excellent work representing the public views and ideas of the company. Once again I only speak for me, NOT my employer. Also take note that I have been extremely careful to not specifically mention any technology or services they provide and have deliberately referenced several types of technologies so that I cannot be pinned down as being an expert on one specific thing. Anything discussed here would be considered after market technology that they do not specifically service. Even in my official role with the company, I am very careful to advise the customer only about things that I have specific knowledge and expertise on. None of the following would fit into that category. I only make mention of my field so as to explain why I took such a keen interest in such things. I wanted use the projects mention here as an opportunity to increase my own personal knowledge and understanding of what is on the market. My education and background is in political science and public relations, so I'm more qualified to write this disclaimer than I am to give exact advice on technology related matters. Any knowledge I do have, is strictly at the consumer level. To use tech speak, I can use the gooey application just fine, but if you ask me to do anything in the native application that the gooey draws its information from, I'm as lost as lost can be. Once again I do not represent any views or policies held by my company. Do NOT interpret things discussed here as speaking on behalf of my employer. They are my ideas and opinions only. Thank you, lets begin.

Had a nice surprise today. Just as I was about to drag my tail off the couch and into the bathroom to start my pre-work hygiene routine, got a call saying my vacation request had been approved and I didn't have to come in. Yippee !!

So I decided to make a run to the closest Best-Buy to get some ideas for a project I've taken on for my parents. Updating their computer and tv networks.

All I wanted to do was pick-up a flash drive and price RBG cables and usb wireless routers. Figured this all could be accomplished inside 30 minutes right ? WRONG !!!

I had a total ADD moment and neglected to take into consideration the fact that it is the first Saturday after Thanksgiving. The drive to the Polaris location which usually takes 10 minutes took 45. And when I got there, it was like that scene from Apocalypse Now where the USO show turns into a riot. I saw things there that frightened me and I'm not referring to the technology. Six year old screaming kids as far as the eye could see, Fat Khrushchev running around with Sputnik, 80 year old women fighting over the last WI-FI router, stressed-out men where trying to strangle themselves with HDMI cables because they couldn't take it anymore, three toddlers were chewing on Blackberry pagers !! Even now as I write about it three hours later, the thoughts bring chills down my spine. Like Monica Lewinsky's policy about cigars: NEVER AGAIN !!!

Actually it worked to Best Buy's advantage much as it pains me to say. Being that I was going to have to wait for the beginning of the next ice age to check out, I didn't feel like doing that just for a $5 flash drive. So I also picked-up a travel carrier for my netbook which I needed anyhow. And since my ADD brain likes putting off such arduous things till the very last minute I priced every single type of cable under the sun leaving with a ton of ideas on how to skin the cats I've gotta help my Mom skin.

Here's the funny thing about ADD. When you get focused in on something, you almost become obsessed with it and you look at things from every angle. For instance, my Mom wants to set-up a truly wireless network but her printer does not have networking capability. Perhaps a normal person would write that off and give-up. I have dug and dug and dug and now have three different solutions depending on how far she wants to take it. 1. Don't worry about it since it does use a usb cable, it is reasonably convenient to plug and play. I use this arrangement for my own network and it has been just fine for several years. 2. Purchase a printer networking hub and from its manufacturer ($150-$300). 3 And much less preferable buy a wireless usb port kit. I like option three less because it will require a usb wifi style card be attached to the laptop. It is more complicated and its a $50 part that is easily broke when dangling out on the side like that and it also drains battery life. I know because the reason I have a netbook is because such a thing happened with my broadband card on my old laptop. 4. I hope I can convince her to go with option number one as much as I love buying new widgets and whirligigs. Its a home network not a business network and I see no need to make things more complicated and confusing than they need to be. Seriously, why would you care to print stuff from two rooms away, when you still have to walk over to the desk to pick it up anyhow ?

I also wanted to find a way to link her laptop to her TV. Why ? Because you can. Same logic for a wireless printer network I guess :) I initially wanted to do this because a quick price check revealed RBG cables to be only $15 for a set. IE I was under the FALSE impression they were cheap. Typical ADD, I missed a key detail here. The ones on sale for $15 are like six inches long. Hell I couldn't even put the laptop in the DVD stand with that much cable, let alone use it !!! Unless Mom wants to drop about $300 into it, she'll just have to download her photos to her flash drive and put that drive into the TV for her slide shows. $10 for a 4 gigabyte memory stick v $300 you does the math :) Not really sure what I'd hoped to accomplish by linking the laptop to the TV anyhow, but I'm sure I could find one eventually :) I just thought it was cool that I could.

As I mentioned earlier, I've become obsessed with cables and connectivity lately. I work in tech support for a technology company so as much as anything I wanted to know what all is out there. For instance I learned that so long as you only need to take the signal 15 feet or less, any hdmi cable will due, but if you need to go further, buy as high a quality cable as you can get and know its gonna be EXPENSIVE !!! I can't tell you how it all works although I have read it. Also there are signal boosters available for every type of cable on the market from usb and coaxial to hdmi and ethernet. But if you are in a position where these options need to be considered, your first question should be is there an alternate solution and or is it a worthwhile endeavor ? Because you are going to be wrapping up several thousands of dollars into the project just for the cables. Unless its some sort of business operation, my guess is the answer to the last will be no. I mean an HDMI booster alone is going to run you $1750 to $2500 , think you can go cheaper by getting a component cable set-up ? Guess again, about $2000 for that booster also and if you are using those cables, you'll also need audio cables and a booster too at around $1500. Didn't price high grade audio cables and boosters, nor did I price Ethernet, usb, or wifi boosters except to satisfy my curiosity that they do exist, I just didn't have the stomach for it after that sticker shock. I did price long usb cables to know that long usb cables are very expensive too as are Ethernet cables to connect to wifi boosters.

While I was at it, I was also searching for a very cheap storage solution for my netbook which is my primary computer anymore. I only paid $150 for the machine and so don't want to go higher than $40. Well I've found I can back-up my files onto a usb flash drive for $10. Sure it isn't enough for a full recovery plan, but it'll allow me to quickly jump back into action once a solution would be found. But I had to laugh at myself as I ended-up having to buy two of them. Again typical ADD stuff. I made an impulse buy and got a 4 gig drive that is a pretty red and you slide the case down to reveal the plug. The problem is, this isn't ADD proof.

I loose anything that isn't tied down. I once went two weeks without my wallet, somehow misplaced the spare tire for my two door Blazer and it was in the BLAZER !! Actually somehow it ended-up in the laundry room which I obviously seldom use :) The how and the why for the last one is a mystery to this day. Anyhow back to the flash drive. The trouble is that I have to keep track of a small light red piece of plastic the size of my thumb. This is a challenge. This one had several hurtles that stand in the way of this challenge. It has a hole that is too thick to affix any sort of lanyard and the case still leaves the plug exposed. Red or not, its still the size of my thumb and there's not telling where I'll lose it at. So I had to go buy another one that is black, but has a protective cap. I then protected this investment from myself by affixing a three and a half foot, hunters orange, heavy nylon, lanyard to it. This lanyard is otherwise known as a dog leash that I found while wandering around PetCO even though I don't actually own a dog. Hey, I don't have many important files, but they are important to me. Just to be safe, I pulled out my drill and put three wood screws in it, thus permanently attaching the leash to my desk. I'm sure it has effected the resale value a bit, but it will give me an excuse to buy a new desk and new computer equipment to match it next year.

Until next time, Redheaded Rambler signing out.

Why this Christian likes Thanksgiving way more than Christmas Disclaimer listed under About Me section and Facebook profile applies as always

Why I like Thanksgiving so much and find Christmas to be more of a pain in the butt.

The first of several reasons I love Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is the one unique holidays that is truly American. Everyone knows its origins date back to the Pilgrims and some of the original settlers of this great land Native Americans. So it essentially has its roots to all of the groups who were involved in the settling and creation of the American we have today. Not as well known is that people informally celebrated this holiday on a somewhat infrequent basis until a proclamation was made by President Lincoln in 1863 inviting people to join in a day of Thanksgiving on the last Thursday in November. This started the yearly tradition we know today. I like this fact. President Lincoln is generally accepted by most historians to be one of the greatest leaders the United States has ever been blessed to have. In many ways Abe’s life and my own life have a lot of very frightening similarities and as such I feel a kinship with this great man. More on that some other time.

Thanksgiving has its roots in the celebration of a bountiful harvest from the fields. I have very close family ties to agriculture and therefore can easily identify with that. Even modern farmers are done or finishing up the harvest by the time Thanksgiving rolls around. This year being a BIG exception.

Least you be curious, due to the unseasonably wet year and warm year, combined with a very late planting season, the corn just ripened about two weeks ago, and the mud is preventing the heavy combines from getting into fields. Add in the fact that the corn is VERY wet, requiring it to be run through dryers before taken to market and its extremely slow going. From what I saw on my last visit home, I just hope they can get it off before the corn stalks deteriorate making harvest impossible. For any farmers out there, most of my farm friends say corn is averaging between 27%-29% moisture content and if anyone has hit 30% they aren’t saying. My uncle believes someone will see low 30’s at some point and just hopes it isn‘t him. For all you suburbanites and city slicks out there usually you prefer to have that number closer to 12%-15%. Anything more and you risk mold destroying the grain in storage, anything less and the grain will shatter as its handled. Also you might consider buying stock in natural gas or propane, no doubt its going to soon be in high demand as the seed dryers start burning it up in massive quantities !!!

Getting back on topic the main reason I love Thanksgiving so much is that it’s really just about enjoying four of my most favorite things in life: good friends, good food, good drink, and football. (Note I said football NOT good football, after all it always features the Detroit Lions and this year‘s star-struck itinerary also will highlight the blue chip Oakland Raiders. Ooohhh get the popcorn ready and the DVR tuned-up !!) People might accuse me of liking it so much because I don’t help cook. Be assured this isn’t my choice, it mainly has to do with my viewing of garlic as a major and essential food group instead of simply a spice or seasoning. But I am still allowed to fill the salt shakers and set the table so long as I’m highly supervised. But in all seriousness, I enjoy people coming over and helping out or hanging out around the kitchen as preparations are made. Laughing and joking, telling stories from the old year, speculating on the coming new one, catching up over a few drinks and appetizers. Dad started deep frying the turkey several years ago, and the guys will congregate on the back patio or garage like our forefathers gathered around a campfire talking, joking and all and all having a good time.

The food is amazing. Ten years ago, my parents discovered the Food Network and I’ve been delightfully entertained as my mother’s always excellent cooking grows in flavor and complexity. Mom has especially benefited as Dad has gotten much more involved in cooking and he isn’t half bad, in fact he pretty good and never afraid to try new things. Every Thanksgiving brings a new dish, or a new version of an old favorite, as they experiment with previously unknown spices and cooking methods. Granted on occasion Mom and Dad come up with some dish that makes me cry tears for the poor livestock and what they were turned into, as well as consider reporting this crime against humanity to the UN. Fortunately that is a very rare occurrence anymore. When it does happen, I simply pull-out some of the garlic bulbs I always carry, and mix in enough cloves to make it edible (usually only six or seven cloves is needed anymore).

There is none of this running around shopping, card sending, shopping, hiding what you bought while shopping, cooking, shopping, watching fifteen versions of a religious story by 3-year toddlers with no appreciation for the fine art of method acting, prepping the shotgun least a drunken fat man try and wedge himself into my chimney again, oh and did I mention all the shopping ? Yeah with Thanksgiving you have none of that. Its simply “Lets get together, give thanks for all of the blessings we have, and share some stories and jokes over food and games“. If that’s not the definition of a true holiday, prey tell what is ?

Even the US Army gets this and understands how important it is for soldiers to have a little holiday once in a while. Keep in mind, the US Army is an organization that often shows that the terms “military” and “intelligence” do not go hand in hand. I mean this is an organization that supposedly discourages homosexuality but every year celebrates its birthday by making soldiers eat cake while wearing berets !! But every year on Thanksgiving the Green Mother finds a way to get a hot turkey dinner to each of her soldiers. It is a point of pride for the Army dating back as far as WWII possibly longer, I‘m too lazy to research it. The stories of cooks hiking hot chow to far-flung, isolated positions that lack all modern comforts but have an abundance of enemy combatants are legendary. One of the bests comes from Colonel Hackworth while fighting in Korea, Google it or go to the History Channel website if you care to hear about it.

Honestly, I do not care much for Christmas and the reasons are many. Don’t get be wrong, as a Christian I recognize its importance and feel it is appropriate and fitting to bow our heads in respect for Christ‘s incarnation. However, the monster that we’ve created while doing so, resembles a chubby baby who has just woken up from a twelve hour nap. It wants to eat early, often, and in large quantities. It has no sense of responsibility in regards to the opening on the other end. I’ve always heard of the Christmas season getting longer and longer, but the fact really didn’t ring true with me until I saw a Christmas sales display at my local pharmacy. I initially thought was a joke being that it was the first week of October and even Halloween was too far off to be on my radar just yet. I asked the store manager about it, no joke was intended. Yeah, I always check my meds for signs of tampering when I go there anymore. Someone in their management team is obviously deranged and irrational !!!

Lets see, there are Christmas carols playing constantly and repeatedly over the radio and all the red banners and red decorations everywhere. In the days where I used to drink to great excess, and hard core benders that would make Charlie Sheen consider cutting back were far more common and intense this time of year. I’d often hallucinate and become convinced I was in a Soviet brain-washing/reeducation camp. More than once I confused a fat man in a Santa suit for Comrade Khrushchev carrying a Sputnik satellite to the launch site. This would set me on a rambling tangent about how Ronald Regan was going to kick his butt one day. I think one of my more memorable sayings was “Sure you might have more ICBMS than us, but being that more than half probably won’t make it out of the silo and half of the other half‘s ability to make it airborne is suspect at best, it will actually work to our advantage. Have you ever head of the term ‘secondary explosion’ my friend ? I encourage you to keep building them till Siberia looks like its been infested with giant gophers !!! BOOM, BOOM FATMAN BOOM, BOOM !!! ”.

Sure I like all the light displays, some of them are very nice. I fully intend to take my mother to the famous Columbus Zoo light display this year even. But some people get a tad carried away. Its good to be creative an all but my neighbor’s displays are so intricate and BRIGHT that my house plants think the extended day light hours mean its spring and start blooming as if they are a month behind on the deadline. I mean I have to wear a welding mask just to walk from my apartment to my car without being blinded. He doesn’t just get a thank you note from the electric company every year, they comp his yearly trip to Vegas. Recently they contacted ME to ask if I’d introduce my neighbor to the manager of my pharmacy. Sometime an airliner is going confuse his house for a navigation landing beacon and this will result in a wee bit of a traffic jam in the Westerville area. I’d hazard a guess it might even make the 11pm news.

People often laud about how fun it is to shop this time of year. For those of you who fall into that category, let me inform you of something. Black Friday is called that for two reasons. It is the time where stores cross over from the red into the black finically speaking, and because every year a few people are trampled to death. This usually happens to some poor store clerk by a rushing mob cramming into a Wal-Mart to buy a highly discounted TV usually made by some poor and disgruntled five year old in a god-forsaken, faraway country whose government doesn’t view civil rights as a pressing issue. I very unwittingly went with my parents one year and witnessed this spectacle of stress-driven mobs of people desperately searching for beanie babies and micro machines. By the time we were done, I felt like I’d just played a football double header, and was scared to take clothes off to take a shower for fear of what I’d find or what might fall out: perhaps a tooth, distended ankle, hyper-extended knee, or a rack of ribs ?

I resent the fact that during this time of year, shops are so crowded with aggressive shoppers I have to don a helmet and mouth guard just to make a run to the grocery or dime store. And when you get there, there’s fat Khrushchev among a horde of Ritalin sniffing six-year olds screaming and shrieking like they lost a finger playing with Sputnik. These kids tend to be in this super cooperative mood because of feeling the effects of sugar withdrawal and/or because mommy would only buy them two Tickle-Me Elmos instead of four.

People often stress out this time of year fretting about finding the perfect gifts to give. This is where having ADD is a benefit. I seldom have this problem. I wait till two days before, don my protective gear, then head to the nearest Meijer. In 45 minutes of focused walking, I’m done. If it truly is the thought that counts, a review of my past gifts will reveal the following thoughts: 1. I wasn’t 2. Dam I’m broke, and if I’ve actually thought things through sometimes 3. I might not like you that much and/or I’m an evil but very harmless genius.

I will now elaborate. I once gave my mother a frying pan (only thing that kept me from suffering serious bodily harm was the fact that I was 8 years old). Last year I won an air popcorn popper. I used it one time and discovered air poppers make popcorn which resembles packing material in both taste and consistency. Given that it was the first week of Dec when I made this discovery what was my first thought ? “Dam this popcorn popper generates crap. It will be a perfect gift for my future brother-in-law”. One side of the family does a $5 gift exchange and my mother long ago started bringing an additional gift to smooth over any hard feelings generated by recipient of my gift. Its ranged from the strange (fifteen pounds of long grain rice) to the bazaar (an entire case of Preparation H). Of that last gift one cousin was heard to say, “Its not the fact that he gave a case of hydroid cream that bothers me. it’s the fact that there is enough of a market for that product that they sell it in that large of a quantity and what hell-on-earth did Mike have visit to find it ?”. On that last thought, the funniest one I believe was a box of edible Christmas panties. Now we organize this gift exchange by numbering the gifts, and then drawing the numbers out of a hat. I assure you I had nothing to do with the organization or administration of this process. I surely would have influenced it differently if I had. Because the panties were selected by my cousin’s then girlfriend and now wife of nearly ten years. I didn’t know it was possible for a woman to blush so many different shades of red !!! One year I was contemplating how to deal with an unwelcome member of my entourage that I sort of had to tolerate since he was a friend of a very close friend of mine whom I‘ll call Bob. It wasn’t so much Bob I disliked (although I wasn’t too fond of him), it was his 5 year old kid. I only saw this kid stop moving, shouting, and screaming one time even only for a mere 2 minutes (he had run full speed, head first into a wall LITERALLY !!!). Like many people with ADD I am high strung and don’t have much tolerance for excessive noise. I don’t always deal well with these situations and it can put me into a panic attack. Excessively loud and constant noise has been known to transform my mood from happy go luck to very grouchy in two minutes. Especially when little Jr’s daddy never thinks he does anything wrong and acts as if its no big deal that his kid is screaming and running around the restaurant chasing other kids with a butter knife or gnawing on my remote control like a hungry dog gnaws on a steak bone. So after one especially eventful dinner that Bob’s future-ward-of-the-state had made more interesting that I cared for, it became apparent that something had to be done. Bob simply was not getting the hint. Now that says a LOT because I have the gift of being discretely-indiscrete when I want to. A real master of the back handed compliment if you will. So when Christmas time came around I held a small get together knowing full well Bob would invite himself along. As I was bidding my guests goodbye I surprised his kid with a gift so long as he promised to wait and open it Christmas day. The gift ? A small drum set complete with tambourine, a toy battery powered space gun, and ample batteries to keep it running till August. But I pushed it a bit too far by also including a four pack of Red Bull energy drink which Bob took offense to apparently. I found out through our mutual friend. Hell, I figured that was more healthy that the crack and pixey-stix I suspected Bob was giving him before coming to any social functions !! But Bob doesn’t come around anymore and when he does his remote-eating sidekick isn’t in tow. Wonder why ? Sorry about that Bob, didn’t mean to take the joke too far.

On a more serious note, as I’ve come to appreciate the diverse cultures and religions of our great Country, I understand how Christmas which at its heart is a Christian holiday can make those of different religions feel as if, our predominately Christian, society is forcing something down their throat that they don’t believe in. I’ve come to understand how my friends of the Jewish, Hindu, and various pagan faiths, understandably but wrongfully feel like only a marginal part of American society during this time of year. While I make no apologies for my beliefs in the Christian faith, if you are ridding in the biggest truck on the road, sometimes you don’t realize how much you are boxing in the compact in the next lane over. Its hard to defend Christianity as a religion of peace, love, and acceptance when things like Black Friday come around or a Santa shows up in the news for being too friendly with the children. Some of the more extreme fundamentalist use this occasion to bring attention to their extreme views. The kind of Christian fundamentalist out there harassing confused 13 year old girls outside abortion clinics, spewing hate filled rants about homosexuality ….. Those hate filled extremist that fail to realize Christ walked among and ate with tax collectors, prostitutes, and Gentiles. The lowest of the low in Jewish Society and he treated them with compassion, respect, and kindness. I see some of those knuckle heads on TV and regret not organizing a counter protest with the theme “We are also Christians and the idiots over there do NOT represent us !!!”.

Also the Lutheran church that I was born and raised in doesn’t see Christmas as the big deal corporate America makes it out to be. Sure we have a service or two but it pails in comparison to how we celebrate Easter. Trust me, I once served as the acolyte for the entire Easter season as well as for the entire Christmas season. I know we have two traditional services for Christmas but something like six for Easter (I don’t know for sure, I quit counting after four). Yes the Christmas story is important, but ultimately Christ’s visit to Earth would just be another hash mark in the time-line of human history had it not been for his death and resurrection on that tree in Calgary, which gave us the gift of eternal life. That is the ultimate gift of love and sacrifice. It is ultimately why Christmas has meaning.

To all my friends and readers I wish you a safe and happy holiday season. I hope you all get a chance to break bread with family and friends during this time. May the hope of joy and peace, which is the true spirit of the occasion, find you this year and the next one.

Redheaded Rambler signing off

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If anyone knows how to get the visit counter to become visible, please respond with a suggestion. I've played around with the colors for several hours and just can't figure it out. Thanks !!

Hear ye Hear ye New Post in less than 12 Hours.

I am going to be posting a semi-humorous piece on my take of the holiday season by early morning. In the mean time I wanted to post a portion of a letter I recently sent to family updating them on my condition and progress (with some slight modifications). I hope it will be helpful to others. As usual remember the disclaimer listed in the side bar under "About Me" or listed in my profile on Facebook.

******My crack legal team has asked me to add the following addition. I am NOT a medical professional. Depression (even seasonal depression) if left untreated can be a very serious and debilitating condition. If you feel the onset, or you feel your existing condition worsening, I urge you to take is very seriously. By that I mean seek the advice of a reputable and licensed health care professional. I can't tell you who to see. What I can tell you is that when I originally started seeking treatment, I did so through my general physician. It MIGHT be a good place to start. Better to get evaluated by a qualified health care professional and have them tell you nothing is wrong, than to not get an evaluation and end-up having a more serious condition. As anyone whose suffered from a mental health disease will tell you, self recognition is a bitch. No nice way to say it. My current psychiatrist prefers to see his clients in the presence of their spouse or a trusted friend or family member because if you are in that emotional state, you cannot always trust your own judgment. Sometimes things are much worse than you realize, sometimes they are not as serious as you think. Either way, error on the side of caution and seek guidance from a trained medical professional. I have come to rely on a select group of friends and family whom I trust to have my best interests at heart to give me feedback on things and to monitor my progress. Whom ever you see, expect the same thoroughness, quality, and professionalism of them that you would say a doctor who specializes in cancer treatment or diabetes. Lastly at the end of this article I will include three links. Two are to the signs and symptoms of depression and the other (heaven forbid) a reputable suicide prevention organization. If you need help and don't get help from them, PLEASE get help somewhere !!!********

Now that things seem to have leveled off the challenge will be keeping things that way. I'm a little anxious with the holiday season and onset of winter as historically this has always been a difficult time for me.

Holidays are always accompanied by strong positive and negative emotions. Its those extreme swings that aren't healthy. You can compare your moods to the read-out of a heart monitor or a line chart. The large up and down spikes are bad, so is a straight line. The goal is to have a shallow curvy line that doesn't get too high or too low. Sure it might sound great to have a big up-spike, but you always fall as far down as you fly up. Never do you simply float back to neutral and there is NEVER and exception to this. So those super highs have to be avoided to help avoid the super lows. Ultimately, its the crash or downward trip that we are trying to avoid.

The dark, cold, wintry season can often put even mentally and emotionally healthy people into a mild depression. I am determined to be on guard for it this year. I would also urge all of you to stay on guard for winter depression. It is a very common thing. Find a way to get exercise on a regular basis. After Dec, keep finding excuses to get out with friends instead of holing up in your home and isolating yourself from the outside world.

I would like to close with a few points. First I've started a weekly blog to sort of help journal about life with mental illness. The goal is to help beat back the stereo types people have by sharing my own story. Feel free to check it out at : www.theredheadedrambler.blogspot.com . Also if you or anyone you know is struggling with mental illness NAMI can help point you in the right direction. These wonderful people have been heaven sent angles to both my parents and I. I've listed the link to their state website which you can use to find contact information for local chapters. The chapter responsible for the NW Ohio region is very active. www.namiohio.org .

To all my friends and readers out there, I wish you a safe and joyous holiday season.

***Promised links****
http://www.nami.org/Content/NavigationMenu/Mental_Illnesses/Depression/Mental_Illnesses_What_is_Depression.htm

http://www.nami.org/Template.cfm?Section=Depression&Template=/ContentManagement/ContentDisplay.cfm&ContentID=88956

****Suicide Prevention Link*********
http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org



Mike

Why leaving the Army was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make and how mental illness played the deciding factor

Why I chose not to re-enlist. A surprisingly difficult decision.


There is no way to tell this story without wading into political waters and discussing my views on what campaigners call “Hot Button Issues”. So I want to be very clear that the opinions expressed in this article or any other article listed on my blog are strictly mine and mine alone. I do NOT speak on behalf of my employer or any organization listed on my page or any other organization which I am involved with past, present or future. Nor should they ever be interpreted as such. I speak for Mike A, private citizen ONLY. Also note in this article, all names have been changed as I didn’t have the ability to reach these people to ask their permission to mention them.

Also while I’ll try to avoid long winded rambling, periodically I will have stop to explain why I’m saying what I’m saying. When I do so, I’ll set these sections apart from the rest so you can backtrack to my original train of thought more easily. Now lets begin.

Being ADD, I sort of fit into the Army like a round peg in a square hole. It gets the job done but isn’t the prettiest thing in you’ve ever seen. The Army gives you thousands of dollars worth of gear and expects you to keep it clean, neat, and organized. They demand attention right down to the most minuet detail. That was tough on me. I’m not a spit-shine parade-ground soldier and had little patience or use for white glove inspections. In the six years I was in the military, I wore my dress uniform only twice and went to extremes to avoid putting it on, even volunteering for KP and 10 mile marches. I was forever loosing gear and that cost me quite a bit of money forking over hard earned cash replacement costs. “Hurry-up and wait” often drove me to tears of boredom. The Army grudgingly tolerated this from me because my rifle and field gear were always clean and ready, and I always shined when it came to important tasks pertaining to warfare preparation. Much to the annoyance of every NCO I ever served under, I very much took to extremes The Murphy’s law of combat that stated, “No combat-ready unit ever passed inspection, but no inspection-ready unit ever passed combat”. No soldier I ever served with would ever question that I was combat ready, nor would they question my ability to fail a white glove inspection with flying colors !!! By the time my enlistment was up, the ways of the Green Mother, were wearing on me. It was obvious to everyone, which is why many of the soldiers I served with will likely be surprised at to learn that the decision to not re-up was one of the hardest decisions I ever had to make and that I’ve only quit second guessing it recently.

But lets be clear on this. Like a lot of veterans, I often think back to those days and reminisce about the friends I made, experiences I had, feel a pull of obligation to my fellow veterans in uniform and consider joining up again. For me, this is almost every time I read the news. In many ways though is like a boxer or football player whose past his prime, but has a hard time admitting the game has past him by. While he knows it, its extremely hard for him to give-in and accept that its over. Sure from a physical standpoint I’m still healthy enough and young enough to endure the rigors of the Infantry, but due to my medical condition pertaining to mental illness, I know I would be unable to handle the stress and pressures of military life. Yet, it is a hard, bitter pill for me to swallow and admit to. Its only as I learn and understand more about my condition that I’m able to stop feeling ashamed of this fact.

By the time Sept 17, 2003 rolled around I had reluctantly made the decision to not re-up and after a final formation at the unit’s annual picnic, I saluted the CO, was handed my honorable discharge papers, and left the military for good. It was the end of a six year journey that had given me the opportunity to make some of the closest friends I’d ever have, meet some of the most interesting people I have ever met, see parts of the country and have experiences I would not have gotten to have otherwise. As much as anything, I knew then what I’d miss most: working as part of a team of people I could trust with my life, who were so in sync with each other that we could tell by the tone in one another’s voice or walk what was on the other’s mind. I doubt I ever get to experience anything like that on that kind of level again. And a lot went into the decision to walk away from it.

One of the things foremost on my mind was the ongoing combat in Afghanistan and Iraq. Despite George Bush’s declaration of the “Cessation of Hostilities” in Iraq, things were white hot there and Afghanistan was flaring up again too. My unit in fact was in the middle of preparations for a “volunteer” deployment to Kosovo to free-up active duty units to deploy there. How that “volunteer” deployment was being managed by our leadership turned out to be final straw for me but more on that latter.

Digression for explanation on how I felt politically. To this day I have very conflicted feelings about the Iraqi conflict and it was far worse back in 03. I an neither a pacifist or a war-hawk. If anything I am pro-soldier. I dearly want peace so that our young men and women can come home to stay, but I can’t decide the manner in which we should withdrawal. Listening to veterans who have been to both conflicts you hear strong yet intelligent, reasonable opinions for both cutting our looses and getting out as well as staying for the duration and seeing the thing through to the end. Some would say it’s a “black hole with no end in sight so stop this thing and get out and end this needless bloodshed or we’ve served our purpose time to go home”, others say “If we pull out without reaching the our goals, then our dead and wounded soldiers have sacrificed in vain”.

Personally I feel very conflicted about the war. But George W. Bush and some of the war-hawks that supported his administration pissed me off something awful and it all started with his reelection efforts. By 2003 they were already tooling up for the campaign and the theme seemed to be “Reelect me because of 9-11” and through out the campaign W shamelessly carried on in this manner. As far as I was concerned he was holding a political rally at Arlington National Cemetery using the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier for a podium while vendors sold t-shirts from booths set-up over grave sites. This would bother me so much that the following summer I would leave my job, as a political staffer who specialized in campaign work, to peruse college full time and reevaluate my chosen career field. At the time I was pretty outspoken about how I felt and this did not go over very well with my fellow political co-workers. I was called a traitor to the Republican Party, my patriotism questioned more than a few times and some who had never worn the uniform flat-out called me a “sunshine patriot” who was too scared to answer another call to duty. Words cannot describe how angry this made me.

Be assured just as I am now, I was then, no less willing to answer the call should my country ever need me. I may not volunteer or be overly eager, but if the need should ever arise I will put down my plow and pick-up my rifle again. By the fall 2003, I was already so sick of these war-hawks who have never worn the uniform, never had a son or daughter serve in the military or possibly at risk of being drafted, going around saying "America needs to turn half of the Middle East and South Asia into a giant parking lot". It is very easy to say we should be out there gunning-down everything in sight if you aren‘t going venturing into the line of fire and pulling the trigger. War-hawks fail to understand another of Murphy’s laws of combat, “If the enemy is within your shooting range, you are within the enemy’s shooting range” and “Incoming fire always has the right of way”. If you know you are at no risk of going into combat and neither is anyone you love and care about at risk of going into combat, you can be phony brave like that. Those of us who have, while more than willing to do so, aren’t quite so trigger happy. The night I got the call to active duty I was proud and frankly scared shitless. Honestly, I would never want to go into combat with anyone who isn't scared. It means you have a health respect for incoming fire. See Murphy's laws of combat, "Never forget your weapon was made by the lowest bidder " and "NEVER share a foxhole with someone crazier than you !!". Only a week before at a Buckeye Football Game my father, also a veteran, had it out with someone who was spouting such “Kill‘em all and let God sort them out nonsense“.

The decision to go to war should not be taken so lightly and should never be driven by mindless rage. It’s a decision to be made knowing full well that people will die and feeling fully convicted that in spite of this, it is necessary. The people coming back in those flag draped coffins were and are real people to me. People I had broken bread with only a short time ago. For George W to shamelessly campaign by saying you should reelect me because of 9-11 was beyond despicable to me and I’ve yet to forgive him for it. Furthermore after having it out with one of these war-hawks I came to the opinion that if America truly wants these wars, why is the Army barely able to make a mere 75% for its recruitment goals, why aren’t military in processing centers overwhelmed with patriots wanting to do their part ? Why are these knuckle heads running around the US shooting their mouths off and beating the war drum instead of shooting rifles and beating down Iraqi “freedom fighters” ? In the interest of non-biased journalism, Kerry wasn't any better either. I was equally disgusted with both of them. But I felt betrayed by "W" given that I had worked on his initial election campaign.

For the above reasons, I felt that until some of those people took a turn on the frontline, I’d fulfilled my turn on the defense line for America, and wasn’t getting back in line for another rotation till some more people had done so, until some of these war-hawks had put their money and their ass where their mouth was.

The second reason I left had to do with my distrust of the senior leadership of my Army unit. Over the course of my active duty deployment as well as a briefing and training maneuvers two months prior, it had become apparent that the leadership above company level was horribly inept and quite frankly corrupt. Only three months prior my old team leader had chose to return to civilian life solely because of this and it heavily effected my decision. For the sake of protecting him, I’ll just call him Phil. Phil had served four years with the 101st Airborne Air Assault Division and proved to be one of the best soldiers I ever worked with and one of my closest friends. He had protected me from making bad mistakes several times and I am in his debt. Phil flat out said on several occasions “Sooner or later this chain of command is going to get us all killed, either get out or transfer asap”. He was one of the few people who knew how much I was struggling with the decision to stay or go and made clear that I should get out. He even drove down from Cleveland to Bowling Green the night before my final drill to party with me and make sure I didn’t re-sign, so strongly was his feelings. Only two days before in a phone conversation, he had said “Dude stop with that Band of Brothers drama. You stay with this unit and you will face certain death, if and when it goes into combat. The guys left in our team need to transfer to a better unit NOW if they are serious about making it”. I agreed with him and I wish I could say this feeling was unfounded paranoia, but it is based on several facts. I will now break off into a another paragraph and switch to italics to qualify this thought.

Digression for explanation: I actually saw a ton of actions taken by the senior leadership of my Army unit that I found appalling, unethical, and so irresponsible that it nearly cost the lives of soldiers (during peace time operations) on at least three different occasions. However in the name of brevity the situations I witnessed which left the most profound impression on me, while not life threatening, did result in undue personal and finical hardship for many soldiers. When my battalion was called to active duty we were so called under Federal Orders from the President of the United States. This qualified us for protections under the Soldiers and Sailors Civil Relief Act of 1940. The list is long but the chief protections are that any civil court actions must be delayed until you return i.e.: law suits, foreclosures, .., also since in most cases you are taking a pay cut when you leave civilian life, you and your family are protected against evictions and the bank must reduce the interest collected on any loans to 6%. It is important to understand this law only applies to military personal on active duty per orders of the Federal Government and you are not afforded such protections if you are on orders by the state government of say the State of Ohio. Our orders called for four companies to be sent, our battalion sent five. How did they do this ? Well they sent the fifth company with us under state orders. The unfortunate soldiers caught in that faced a great deal of finical hardship for lack of those legal protections and eventually this resulted in an investigation by US Army’s Criminal Investigation Command (CID). One of the things that came out of that investigation was that some soldiers had essentially been coerced into extending their enlistments. You see many Guardsmen work in civilian law enforcement or have ambitions of doing so. When we were mobilized many soldiers had less than one year left on their enlistments. These soldiers were told if they did not reenlist, while they would receive an honorable discharge, they would also get hit with a bar to reenlist. This is a disciplinary action that can end the career of a highway patrolman or someone with ambitions on becoming an FBI or CIA agent. So they re-upped. CID came along eight months later and said this was wrong and illegal, and per orders of the Federal and State governments declared their enlistment papers null and void. The soldiers were then given the option to re-enlist or go home. Half stayed, half went home. I can’t blame either half for the decision they made. I’d have had to think long and hard had I been given the choice to go home.

Sort of in that same vein, three months prior to getting out, we had been called into a briefing about possible upcoming deployments. Leadership wanted to poll us on the question, “Which would you prefer ? Another stateside deployment or an overseas deployment” and we were asked to write our preference down on a signed piece of paper with our signature. Well, I felt that if I was going to be deployed I may as well get the chance to use this TOW anti tank weapons system that I’d spent the better part of six years preparing to use; instead of playing security guard at another ammo depot . So I put down that I preferred an overseas deployment and forgot all about it. Two weeks prior to my last drill weekend, I got a call from the unit’s readiness NCO stating that since I had volunteered for a Kosovo mission, they would require me extend for a year and a half. This surprised me, since I had not knowingly put my name in for any such thing. Apparently that “poll” I had taken was a certain NCO’s trick to get enough volunteers to justify the Army taking him along. It took four days, countless phone calls, and eventually I had to threaten to take the issue up with my congressmen and the Commanding General of the Ohio Army National Guard, before my name was taken off the roster. To say this upset me was an understatement, I was so angry I almost had a stroke !!

Yet it was that very deployment that had me feeling so conflicted. By 03 I was an acting team leader, charged with the training and welfare or four junior soldiers. I did not take that responsibility lightly and I had been worried. I fretted that if I did not go with them to Kosovo, a lesser soldier would take my place and get them hurt. However, two weeks prior to that call from the readiness nco, our company commander had made a wise decision and promoted my long time friend Todd. Todd was an excellent soldier and had much better leadership skills than me, so I knew my guys were going to be in good hands.

Also long that same vein of thought, these were my friends. For six years we had worked with each other through the bonding experiences of long marches, rain soaked field problems, for a year on active duty we had spent nearly every waking moment together. That year I had jokingly told my roommate’s wife that I had spent more time with Tim than she had. Even as I write this I get choked-up. It is hard to walk away from those friendships. Its been six years and I still miss those guys very much. We shared a common experience that only we can understand or relate to.

But in the end, I had to make a decision based on what was best for Mike. And I knew then that I needed treatment for mental illness and it just wasn’t going to happen if I stayed. Twice in our year long deployment I had suffered mental break downs. Those incidents by themselves weren’t what I found concerning, this happened to several of my close friends of the time and two of them are still in the Army. But after the second one, I wasn’t the same person and it had bothered my roommate enough to go behind my back and ask our CO to order me to get some help. In fact he and I both sought treatment and were shocked at how little the Army had available. That’s a whole story of its own that I’ll save for another day. Staying on topic, in 2003, I was getting treatment by a civilian doctor and knew that the medication I was on (Celexia) and the diagnosis he had given me (Generalized Anxiety and Major Depression) would automatically disqualify me from being considered fit for duty by the Army. So when our unit’s number was called for another deployment I’d have to either hide the condition and risk another relapse or suffer the embarrassment of a medical disqualification and not be able to go anyhow. Clearly it was time to get out. For that reason alone, it was the decision that was best for Mike. But it sure wasn’t easy.

Dude I can't read this ? Can you translate it for me ?

That's what I felt like yelling at to the writers of all those "help" pages after 40 minutes of tirelessly pawing through reams of information on how to get your website noticed by search engines. I have a college degree and work in tech support, but all that may as well have been written in Klingon. I punched a couple buttons and hoped for the best.

But that's life with ADD. You forever have to go back and reread what you just read. Nothing makes sense to you till you get to the end and find out where its going. Because you are easily miss key words or phrases that can change the meaning of a sentence, you are forever double checking yourself. Its why reading tech manuals and other such documents can be a painstakingly tedious endeavor. Times like this I unselfconsciously find myself turning down the TV, fan, removing that dangling wind chime from the wall that's casting a distracting glare... Because a mouse fart could distract me halfway through a page of data making me have to go through it all over again.

But when my crazy brain gets it, it grasps hold of it like an iron trap and I become a master of it. But until I do, to get to that point is a brutal and very undignified process sometimes !!

I laugh at how college classmates found my research paper writing method so unorthodox. They would research and write the paper almost simultaneously using a preplanned outline for the framework. I could never write that way. No way I could even formulate an outline until I'd finished the research and fully grasped the topic. Then one day I'd lay all my notes out on the floor and stare at them for about an hour, developing a vision in my head. Then I'd put the notes in a folder, sit down and write in a nearly continuous stream for the next six hours without referencing my notes. Then I'd go back through double check my facts and mark out the source citations and spend the next week editing the thing. I usually got very good grades on big papers like that but it drove my buddies crazy seeing me work. They could never understand how my unorthodox study and research methods could work in their systematic organized world.

I had little use for the folders and neatly printed, highly detailed notes they used. I kept class notes haphazardly folded in with the text books, which were bullet points with page numbers to reference back to. Three sentence summaries of 50 page concepts and so on. My brain couldn't digest all that stuff anyhow so hit the key points, know them well, and get on down the track. And heaven help you if you interrupted me when I'm focusing on stuff. Back then I'd be quick to get in your face with a profanity laden speech on respect. But my system worked for me, and while it was never pretty somehow I always found a way to come out on top. Sort of the story of my life. Wade through a river of crap and somehow come out smelling like roses on the other side. Loved how it frustrated others to see me do that. How my methods would define the term "gloriously undignified" but I'd still be holding the blue ribbon come showtime.

I am analog man in a digital world. If we were still living in caves and hunting wholly mammoths for dinner, my intuition and visual learning style would be seen as a strength. But many many moons ago we starting growing our food instead of hunting for it and my brain didn't keep up with the evolution. Still I have been able to make it and have every reason to believe I'll find new and better ways to achieve.

Red Rambler signing off until next time.

Favorite Quotes

Favorite quotes as best I remember them.

My Drill Sergent on the MK2 50 cal machine gun and the Geneva Convention. "According to the Geneva convention, we cannot fire the 50 cal at military personnel, but we can fire it at military equipment. Equipment like helmets, boots, ruck sacks, rifles, and pistols."

FOLLOW ME !!! U.S. Army Infantry Motto

I see you've set aside this special time to publicly embarrass yourself.

Churchill after a woman accused him of being too drunk. "Yes but you are ugly and tomorrow I shall be sober"

A sergent major when I an American Army Officer said he now knew how General Custer felt. "Custer was a pussy sir !!!"

My friends we have passed legislation that will outlaw Communism forever the bombing begins in five minutes.
The Great Communicator

Do bears crap in the woods ? No sometimes they crap in the zoo. Mike A.

When you go home and tell them about us. Tell them that for their tomorrow, you gave your finest today. (Eisenhower on the D-Day invasion)

The greeting on Joe Frazier's cell phone: "My name is Smokin Joe Frazier, Sharp as a razor. Yeah float like a butterfly sting like a bee, I'm the man who done the job, you know, look at him and see".
Don't ask me to explain that one, just look it up because you need to learn more American History if you don't understand what Joe is talking about.

YYYEEEAAAHHH TOAST !!!!!!!

"Sorry Sir but the voices in my head and I are in agreement on this one. We don't like you !!! A Mikey original told to a door to door salesmen.

"We're going to hell so bring your sunblock" Ari of Entourage

Why I started this blog: ADD Life, Analog man in a digital world or as they often say, "Hunter in a farm society"

I'm starting this because I"ve always wanted to be a writer but just been too lazy to actually sit down and start something. Perhaps one day this will become a World Famous blog and I"ll be a minor internet celebrity or it may be become something that I lose interest in and eventually it goes the way of the Buffalo or however you spell the name of those cattle.

As much as anything I want to start a journal about my battles with mental illness. NAMI runs a campaign to beat back stigma. I hope you'll follow this and realize that not everyone or even most people who deal with mental illness are crazy people who bounce around in a padded hospital room wearing a straight jacket. We're real people function in society and it may surprise you to learn who has dealt with it. It is estimated that nearly 1 in 4 Americans have had a point in their lives where they've had to wrestle with mental illness. Some people are obvious to everyone but themselves, others quite the opposite. I feel fortunate to live in a time where US society has grown more open minded to these issues. It is more accepted and understood by the public than it has been in years past. Still we have a long way to go, and it isn't easy. Mental illness is not easily understood by anyone even and especially many of us who fight it everyday.

My own story is simple yet complex. I've been diagnosed with Adult ADD and looking back on my own life, have come to understand that I've always had it and its helped me make sense of the path I've followed and why its gone the way its gone. Its a long story and I'll take it on soon. But for the time being I want to focus on the present. ADD is my not only my greatest weakness, it is also my greatest asset. It holds me back yet also thrusts me to high achievement that I would not have earned otherwise. When I'm good I'm really good and few can hold a candle to me, but when I'm bad it can sometimes be frustrating.

There's a lot to it, but the long and short is that contrary to what the name may suggest, people with ADD tend to hyper focus. When we're locked in on a goal, we go at it with an obsessive passion that cannot be matched. We've been known to go days without eating or sleeping while we work away at our labor of love. We become passionate about it because we vest so much into achieving the goal it becomes a part of us. We'll conquer the objective and in such a way that few will be able to match it to the level quality we've just achieved.

Well I'm already very much past my bedtime so its time to pinch this off. I promise to elaborate on things in more detail soon. Next time I write, I'll walk you through my journey and history with mental illness. Until then know, you are NOT alone, someone out there is someone who can identify with what you are going through regardless of whether you are suffering from mental illness or are close with someone who does. NAMI can help get you pointed in the right direction in either situation. Their site is listed in my links.

Why I choose to serve

Here is a blog from my Facebook posts. I orignally started it because I thought it would be simple. Eight pages into the next entry with no end in sight, I realized this to not be the case. So the remainder is sitting in a word processor document file somewhere until the whole story is completed from stern to keel and well polished. I have no idea when that will be.

Wow, all I can say is that I’m still shocked by what happened at Ft. Hood today. I haven’t turned off CNN for like six hours. As someone who has both served in the U.S. Army and as someone whose fought and still fighting a life long battle with mental illness, it really hits home and is bothersome to me on several levels and ways. Ironically enough it was my intention to type out a blog about my own experiences in the military today even before I learned of this. It had been on my mind for several reasons. Last night I had watched the HBO Documentary called “Section 60” which referred to the burial plot at Arlington National Commentary where fallen members of the Armed Forces of Iraq and Afghanistan are laid to rest. In a very non-biased way it covers the stories of these fallen heroes and those of their loved ones. It should be seen by every American Citizen. Along with that, someone earlier today had posted a very motivating music video about soldiers kicking butt and taking names. It really illustrates the mindset and mentality the military attempts to get you into especially in Infantry Boot Camp, and really the mentality you have to take on to truly be an effective soldier and take on what you are asked to take on by the Army. And in the process of all this I looked at the calendar and realized Veteran’s Day is next week. (11 November) I know this because it is also my baptism date which is a very big deal in the Lutheran Church of which I was raised in.

I think I’ve said all I have to day about the Tragedy at Ft. Hood, just check the postings I’ve left on my wall if you really want to know. Therefore I am still going to go on with writing the blog I had originally intended to write. But first a few things I want to say upfront. When I speak on things as emotional and as important to me such as military service and veteran’s issues I make every attempt to explain and state things in such a way that they cannot be misunderstood as well as explain why I’m saying what I’m saying. This requires me to qualify my remarks quite a bit. So you may find some of the punctuation and format in this blogg unusual. There is a reason, when I feel the need to qualify my remarks, I intend to do so in such a way that you can quickly reference back to my original thought and continue along with the thought flow. Otherwise this thing will make sense only to me, and come off as mindless ramblings by everyone else.

First qualification of remarks is more of a disclosure. My military experiences consists of six years in the Ohio Army National Guard as an enlisted man. One of those years was spent on Active Duty assisting with homeland security operations at Ft. Knox as part of Operation Noble Eagle I. I in no way intend to come across as a certified bad ass who seen tons of combat. My experiences pail in comparison to those who have seen combat overseas. I was stationed stateside and since this first paragraph is really geared towards those who wear or have worn the uniform as they are the ones most likely to be offended if I try and make myself out to be more than I actually am, I’m about to lay down some military lingo and slang. I was part of a CONUS deployment and I in no way intend to come off as someone whose been in the shit. Now for the longest time I felt a great deal of guilt and shame for not volunteering for combat and only in the last year or so changed my tune. So please also understand I’ve had enough active duty time to be considered a full veteran legally entitled to VA benefits and I am a member of the American Legion. I don’t apologize anymore for not volunteering overseas deployment and I am proud of having served. My unit was among the first to answer the “Call to Arms” following the 9-11 Attack, and we were part of the largest mobilization of National Guard combat units since the Korean War.****As a side note this was a fact we were informed of within the first five minutes of reporting and reiterated by senior officers repeatedly. It did NOT help anyone’s anxiety levels and worse still completely freaked out our families. Especially since we were NOT informed of our intended destination or mission for another 14 days !!!**** Still I look back on the fact that I was part of this with great pride. While I didn’t get to go overseas and dodge bullets, nor did I sit idly on the side lines during that scary time in our Nation’s History. Soldiers rarely if ever get to chose their mission, they only get to chose to answer the call to serve.

Enough on that.

First topic Why I joined. Simple yet complex.
As I child ever since I can remember, I wanted to join the military. My first conscious memory of this actually was watching the movie Top Gun. From that point on I knew at some point I wanted to join the military, I wanted to wear that uniform. Not unlike most boys growing up in a small town during the Ronald Regan administration, I was always playing soldier, always running around with toy guns. I’d drive my father to tears asking him about his own experiences as a M-60 tanker with the US Army and would listen with baited breath when my Grandpa Arnos would talk about his experiences as a combat engineer with the U.S. Army in the south pacific during WWII. Grandpa would talk about it but never much. While he never came right out and said it, Grandpa obviously had seen and lived through some rough things over there. In hindsight I feel he probably just did not want to relive those memories. Whatever happened over there I know for a fact he took more than his fair share of shrapnel wounds because even into his mid 70’s he was still digging metal fragments out of his skin as it came to the surface from the wounds for which he was awarded a Purple Heart and one maybe two oak leaf clusters.

As I learned to read, I became almost obsessed with military history. I’d read about all wars but for some reason was most interested with Vietnam War History and still am to this day. I mean I bet there are only a handful books written by Vietnam Veterans on their personal accounts that I have not read. Keep in mind about this time with patriotism at an all time high, Vietnam veterans were just starting to get the acceptance and recognition they deserved, also enough time had elapsed between our withdraw from that war that the American public was comfortable really digging in and learning more about what happened over there and hearing their stories. The Vietnam Memorial was built in or around that period of time (late 80’s-late 90’s) and in this new climate there were an abundance of inexpensive paperback books written by these veterans detailing their own experiences over there. I read them as quickly as I could find them and still prefer those to plain history text books.

Now I explained that so you’ll understand how I ended up joining the Army National Guard instead of the U.S. Army or gone into a ROTC program at college. I joined the Army over other branches because of wanting to follow in Grandpa Arnos’s and my father’s footsteps. I wanted to follow the Arnos tradition of service in the U.S. Army in a combat MOS.

I really DID want to go active duty special forces as an Army Ranger straight out of high school. The reason I did not ? Grandpa and Dad would have killed me !! Both said and said repeatedly and very loudly the closer I got to graduation from high school, “After college you can do whatever you want, but you WILL go to college before you do anything else!!!”. We’ll now examine where they were coming from and their individual perspectives on why they didn’t want to see me enlist. First Grandpa who had seen combat didn’t like the prospect of his grandson going into the military because he fully understood that combat isn’t anywhere as close to being the fun and games young men often think. He’d seen buddies killed and horribly wounded, he understood the human costs and he didn’t want to see me pay that price. Dad absolutely felt the same way, for the same reasoning but his overriding reason was also very different. He’d spent his time in the military over in Germany as part of the NATO forces and didn’t see combat himself, so he didn‘t have as much perspective on combat. He was in the Army during the Vietnam conflict and even people who’ve spent their entire career in the Army lament about how bad things were during that time. I’ll refer you specifically to the autobiographies of General Colin Powell and Norman Swartzcoff as well as anything written by the late Colonel Hackworth. Drug use was rampant, discipline was very lax, living conditions on most posts criminally deplorable and the quality of the personal the Army was recruiting weren‘t exactly considered the cream of the crop. (This is in no way meant as disrespect to any veterans who served during that time). Since no one, who was serious about improving their life and making something of themselves would join the, U.S. Army, the Army was recruiting and drafting people who could not read, had criminal backgrounds and people who simply did not want to be there and acted out as a result of not wanting to be there. It was a common practice for Judges at that time to give juvenile offenders the choice of joining the Army or going to jail. My father tells a few stories that illustrates just how bad it was. In Germany the drug of choice wasn’t marijuana but actually hashish. One day shortly after Dad had made buck sergeant and not too long after arriving in Germany he was doing a barracks inspection. When he kicked in the door of one room he found a group of soldiers laying around whacked out on hashish which is smoked. While he actually knew nothing about illegal drugs or drug culture [Our hometown of Defiance Ohio is not known for its diversity or openness to liberal political movements and in 1967 the hippie drug culture was only starting to catch on. This movement really wouldn’t gain traction until the Tet Offensive of 68 or 69. Also since I‘ve ventured way off the thought path Mom and Dad both have very interesting stories about going to college during this time] still Dad knew something wasn’t right but he sure couldn’t put his finger on it. The soldiers were laughing strangely and moving erratically. He asked if they were okay legitimately worried that they were sick and as he said this he noticed a very strange order. They laughingly told him they were smoking tea leaves from the chow hall and handed him the pipe. He examined it and the smell was so repugnant Dad determined he didn’t want to take a draw on that stuff. So he grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of his uniform threw them on the middle of the table and said “You guys don’t have money for cigs come see me I’ll get you enough to get you through till next pay. You’re gonna kill yourself smoking those dam tea leaves !!” and got the hell out of that room while the soldiers tried to not have a stroke holding in their laughter. One of the guys in that room latter on got so stoned and incapacitated that he drowned to death in his own vomit while passed out on a bed. Twice there were race riots on post one of which Dad found himself very unwittingly and very involuntarily part of the NCO detail tasked with putting it down. My memory is fuzzy as to how he ended up on the second floor of a headquarters building surrounded by a large number of very disgruntled soldiers determined to get Dad and the five of his fellow NCO’s dragged out and pummeled or worse since they represented authority and honestly authority had very much disenfranchised African Americans and they were getting tired of it by then. Dad understood, and frankly he didn’t want to represent authority anymore than they wanted a white guy from Asshole Ohio in a position of authority. Nor did he want to be a martyr for the Civil Rights movement . He just wanted to finish his enlistment and go back to college. He was certain he was a dead man when the first two rioters charged the stairs. Luckily for Dad and his friends these two were more full of liquid courage than actual courage so Dad and crew easily and quickly whipped them good and whipped them hard and sent them ass or tea kettle back down the stairs shouting “Next soldier who comes up these stairs black or WHITE is gonna get it much worse than those two just did !!! ”. It was enough of a believable bluff for the rest of the mob to decide Dad and crew were not worth the hassle and disperse. Needless to say, my father did not view military service as a good career move especially for someone like his son who had several small academic scholarship offers and a letter of acceptance from two private colleges. Interestingly enough latter on my father would meet many of the men I served with and learn that the military had improved dramatically for the better since that time. By the 90’s the Army had improved the quality of life for its soldiers and also in large part due to the very lucrative education benefits, combined with a recruitment motto of “Be all you can be” the Army had become a place to go if you truly wanted to get ahead in life, where you went if you were serious about going to college but were unable to afford it. Dad like many veterans of his era was highly impressed with the intelligence and professionalism of the young soldiers he met while visiting me at boot camp and at various family functions my guard unit held.
Sure I knew of a few soldiers who would occasionally partake of cocaine or marijuana but even they did so rarely and kept it pretty quite when they did. After all we were subject to random drug tests and the consequences for being caught were and are very serious. You’ll almost certainly be doing some time in the brig before they throw you out on your ass with a dishonorable discharge. A dishonorable discharge is essentially viewed as the equivalent of a felony by most employers. But I’m getting off track again.

Topic Number Two: Why I joined the Ohio Army National Guard and did so with the full support of both my Father and Grandfather.

I learned of the National Guard while attending a college/job fair spring of my junior year of high school. It turned out to be a very ideal opportunity given my situation. Because of course I very much wanted to join the military and have the honor of serving my country. But by then it was clear beyond a doubt to me that so long as Grandpa and Dad had anything to say about it and they would insist on having something to say about it Simply enlisting straight out of high school was going to be way more trouble than it was worth. I might have almost been able to get past one of them but not both of them and either way the inevitable beating I would take in the process might leave me uglier than when I started and I have enough problems getting a date as it is !!!! So the Guard basically ended up being a compromise that they were willing to accept for several reasons.
Chief and foremost among those reasons was college money. As I mentioned earlier I’d been accepted to both Ohio Northern University as well as Wittenberg University and while I’d been offered some scholarship money for academic achievement and because some how I’d fooled them quite badly into believing I was a decent wrestler and would consider joining the team if I didn’t have to work a part time job to make ends meet. Even what they had to offer would not come remotely close to covering the yearly costs of tuition at either of those schools. In 1998 yearly costs of tuition at Wittenberg was the most expensive in Ohio at $32,000 a year. Ohio Northern while not the most expensive, certainly on the top 5 at an annual costs of $22,000. At the time and I believe still is, the Ohio National Guard paying 100% of your tuition so long as you go to a state college or in the case of a private college like Ohio Northern where I first started at, they would pay the equivalent of what it would cost to go to a state college which was $10,000 a year at the time. Enough that I only had to borrow $2000 a year to make up the difference. That alone was enough to change Dad’s tune in regards to military service and honestly convinced Grandpa Arnos. I don’t know how enthusiastic Grandpa actually felt about me joining up, but he fully understood Mom and Dad could not afford to help me scrape up the estimated $50,000 it was going to cost me to go to college.
I would latter find out the other thing weighing heavily on my parents’ minds was that I’d catch a case of dumb-ass, drop out of college and join up on a whim the first moment things became stressful at college. Granted there were no guarantees that that still would not happen but my parents rationed that the paperwork required to transfer your guard enlistment to an active duty enlistment would not be easy or quick to file and they’d have time to talk some sense into me before the ink dried.
So to sum everything up, I absolutely joined out of Patriotism. Patriotism is the reason I wanted to join the military in the first place. Choosing the National Guard over other options was a decision based largely on the education benefits it offered me. These allowed me to go to college at the same time I was serving. In the end I could not have made a better decision given what I learned about myself latter on. But my fingers are becoming starting to go out of joint typing this so that story is going to have to wait for tomorrow or Sunday at the latest.

Soil my pants or risk getting arrested. Decisions Decisions Decisions

So I'm out at Sharon Woods today enjoying the unseasonably nice weather. In the middle of a trail bowel craps hit me like a ball bat swung by Sammy Sosa in the middle of a steroid cycle.

Now I was born and raised in the country and have spent countless hours in the woods in pursuit of fish and game. I've also spent a or twenty in the field training for combat with the Army National Guard. So my first instinct is to find the nearest tree, drop trowel and expel the contents within. Or as we'd say in the military if someone was calling for a soldier over the radio who was using the restroom, "He's executing a class two down load right now".

Luckily for me within the first two steps off the trail it dawned on me. "There are a lot of parents and small children on this trail right now. Someone could see me and get the wrong impression." After all there have been a lot of weirdos in the local news lately. So the question becomes "Do I go further into the woods to ensure privacy or do I try and hold it in while walking back to the nearest restroom ?". HHMMM Well I decided it wasn't worth the risk because while I MIGHT regret it if I didn't make it back in time, I absolutely WOULD regret it if I was to be arrested for indecent exposure or something like that and regret it much worse. Almost certainly that would d be guaranteed to make the news and wrongfully portray me as some sort of sexual predator. So I hiked back and I did not make it, and I had to hose down my car with Lyscal. But once again nothing illegal about crapping your pants, NOTE I said nothing illegal, morally wrong ? that's another story and my poor driver's seat might have an opinion or five about. Gotta love the choices life and society sometimes forces you to make. :)

**Any opinions and ideas expressed here are strictly mine and mine alone. They should not in any way be viewed as the opinions of my employer or any organizations I am a member of, past, present, or future.