We have brave men and women dying overseas while our "Glorious" Messiah is off pandering to the IOC trying to get the Olympic games to Chicago. Obama hasn't commincated to his Generals in the Afghanistan field of operations since July... nearly ten weeks. 73 percent of Americans DON'T want Obama care and the Democrats in the Senate killed the public option in commitee just yesterday.
What does it say about our President? It says he doesn't care about what the people want only what he wants. Obama is too impressed with himself. Giving fancy speeches trashing our counrty isn't winning him any allies; dismanteling our missile shield won't woo the Russians into aiding us in Iran; Iran is a willing Market for Russian weapons and commodities. While Obama is busy verbally pleasuring himself, our enemies are testing him. Iran is test firing medium and long range missiles with no real punitive actions, they've been processing weapons grade Uranium to affix on these missiles for an assault. Obama doesn't want to act too hastily and our house continues to burn around him and more importantly around us. Obama wants to work through the United Nations... WTF!!! After 19 UN resolutions condeming Iraq nothing happened and we had to act alone. The UN delay gave Iraq the valuable time to hide and relocate thier weapons and assets.
Now is the time to action, now is the time for us to speak out. Our country is in jeopardy and the left wing sits back applauding and the media ignores the obvious truth. God help us because Obama is weak and inexperienced... he's the African American Jimmy Carter and we, as a nation, are paying the price for his inexperience and stupidity.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Sometimes life has a few bumps
I was talking with my son this afternoon after an exceptionally difficult day at work. He too had an uncomfortable day and was facing a bleak semester at college. His problems at school combined with my daughter's problems adjusting to dorm life and other high visibility issues led him to remark that we were cursed.
Cursed. I'd often suggested that out of frustration over a situation I had no control over but I had never heard the phrase coming from my son with such veracity and conviction. I took a few moments to recall the blessings we had and all that we stood to lose. If we were cursed I'd have no job, no car, no prospects for the future. My son and I reflected more upon the obstacles we each were facing over the next few months and the challenges my daughter was struggling with and let it all hang out over that small coffee table.
I imparted a simple observation after digesting all of our maudlin commentary; the roads of our lives had come upon several bumps and pot holes. We were navigating a tough stretch of life right now and needed to be steady and take things one day at a time until we could find a smooth stretch of road. Smoother road was ahead, I just didn't know where it was or how long the bumps would last.
The bumps we're experiencing now will no doubt make us appreciate the inevitable smooth stretch of pavement we'd both eventually encounter.
Cursed. I'd often suggested that out of frustration over a situation I had no control over but I had never heard the phrase coming from my son with such veracity and conviction. I took a few moments to recall the blessings we had and all that we stood to lose. If we were cursed I'd have no job, no car, no prospects for the future. My son and I reflected more upon the obstacles we each were facing over the next few months and the challenges my daughter was struggling with and let it all hang out over that small coffee table.
I imparted a simple observation after digesting all of our maudlin commentary; the roads of our lives had come upon several bumps and pot holes. We were navigating a tough stretch of life right now and needed to be steady and take things one day at a time until we could find a smooth stretch of road. Smoother road was ahead, I just didn't know where it was or how long the bumps would last.
The bumps we're experiencing now will no doubt make us appreciate the inevitable smooth stretch of pavement we'd both eventually encounter.
Friday, September 11, 2009
The Devil you know
I accepted a new position last week for new opportunity and, of course, more cash. I was tired of my old job and the constant stress and aggrivation found therein. My forst day on my new job was a veritiable shit storm and hasn't let up and appears that teh aggrivation won't let up. More stress and more aggrivation from more places; only now I need weeks to learn how to navigate a new job, new people and new processes.
Sometimes familiarity breeds contempt but the devil you know is always better than the devil you don't. A point to ponder on a rainy Friday afternoon.
Sometimes familiarity breeds contempt but the devil you know is always better than the devil you don't. A point to ponder on a rainy Friday afternoon.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Memories of a depared friend
I was privileged to know a man named Glenn. I choose not to use his last name, not out of any fear of legal recourse, but out of respect for his family and his children whom I hold in the highest esteem. I’ll never forget the first time I met Glenn; it was in September of 1991. I was just getting into traditional archery and was looking to buy a back quiver to hold my arrows as well as other traditional gear that I needed for the pursuit of this wonderful sport. My friend Brian had suggested that I buy my gear from someone he had met at an archery shoot awhile back. He gave me the phone number and encouraged me to call. That night I called and asked for Glenn. I introduced myself and explained why I had called. What would normally have been a five minute phone call turned into an hour long conversation about archery and the fine art of making things from scratch. We agreed to meet at his home that weekend, Saturday morning.
Well, I was slightly apprehensive about meeting this guy despite the great rapport we had on the phone. I figured I’d just get my quiver and be on my way after a few minutes. I knocked on Glenn’s door and was greeted by the symphony of barking dogs. The door opened and there stood a man my height wearing a big smile. He yelled at the dogs and motioned me in. There was a magic about Glenn that to this day I’ll never be able to explain and there was a warmth in that house that seemed to welcome anybody inside. Glenn had a special way of making anybody feel at ease and comfortable. He led me to his basement workshop and showed me the quiver he had made. It was absolutely incredible; the workmanship and quality were simply amazing and no detail was overlooked. I happily forked over my $100.00 knowing that a product of this quality would have set me back four times as much anyplace else.
We went into his basement family room and I spotted a collection of arrowheads and spear tips that would have been a museum curator’s wet dream. There were relics from the Egyptian Empire, the Roman Empire, and hundreds of Native American stone arrowheads all neatly arranged, labeled and encased in wooden and glass display boxes. Glenn came even more alive and excited as he caught me studying his collection. He spent over 90 minutes showing me different pieces and entertaining me with stories of how he acquired them. Glenn always said you can find a treasure in another mans trash and he was the king of the yard sale bargain. Several of his most valuable collectibles had been acquired through yard sales. Artifacts valued at over $1,000.00 dollars had been obtained for the sum of fifty cents to two bucks. Glenn had an eye for a bargain and a shrewd knack for a good deal.
We began talking and eventually wound up in his back yard with our bows and arrows shooting into hay bales and other assorted targets that he had for his personal use. I discovered how deadly a shot this man was and how freely he dispensed his knowledge of traditional archery. Over the next several hours, I was given an archery clinic that would have cost hundreds of dollars at any sports shop. The day literally flew by and before I knew it six hours had passed and I was long overdue (Anybody who follows my blog knows that this isn’t an unusual circumstance for me). As I was preparing to leave, an aroma of sheer delight attacked my senses. Glenn’s wife had finished preparing dinner. As I made my way through the kitchen I saw a feast fit for a king. His wife had already prepared a place setting for me and I figured I was already late, what would another hour hurt? Glenn’s wife pointed towards the phone and instructed me to call my wife and let her know that I was still alive and kicking and would be dining here this evening. The meal was magnificent as was the company, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. After dinner Glenn and I went back down to his family room and watched several movies and talked about archery, hunting and family. I felt I had found a kindred spirit and a possible good friend for many years.
Glenn and I developed a close friendship and I came know his wife and children very well over the last 13 years. There were many dinners, many hunting trips and many late nights watching movies and just talking about life and life’s obstacles. Glenn had so many talents; he could make or repair anything made of leather, he could load the hottest shotgun shells or bullets and make some of the best traditional arrows to be found anywhere. His hunting and tracking skills were incredible and I was a willing student. But most of all, he was a good friend and a great host, I always enjoyed our times together and looked forward to a long and lasting friendship.
But he also had his demons, which he had spent the last three years of his life battling. Glenn and I grew apart because of these demons, and they affected his health and home life and put a strain on our friendship. I sometimes wonder if I had been a better friend, maybe I could have done more. But Glenn was a very proud man and did things his way, whether anybody approved or not. Addiction ate away at him both physically and emotionally and was tearing apart his family. He had done things that were questionable and had to face up to his actions. Many of Glenn’s friends turned their backs on him, people he’d known for years and had done so many things for in the past, all disappeared from his life. Despite all of it I was still Glenn’s friend and we still talked and visited, although admittedly not as frequently. I tried, honestly, to get through to him, his wife tried, but in the end we all failed. Glenn hadn’t been happy for about two years, he claimed he was depressed (I believe that he was), he had other health issues; some brought on by his addiction and others that weren’t. In the end his demons got the better of him. My friend took his life last October and the memory of the phone call telling me of his tragic passing is as vivid today as it was that fateful October morning.
I remember talking to both his sons and daughter after Glenn’s funeral; the boys were now young men, no longer the boys that I remembered from many years ago. I had watched them grow up and had witnessed so much in their lives. I saw his daughter, such a beautiful young woman and remembered how tiny she was when we first met. It was heart breaking to see the pain in those young eyes, for they had lost their Dad too soon. They had so many unanswered questions and so much hurt to endure. I talked about their Father with them for a good while, reminding them of the man I knew and regarded as a friend. When I remember my friend Glenn, I remember the wisdom and kindness he always showed me and the love and zest he had for life while he was healthy. This was my friend, what he had become due to his illness was sad and such a waste. I still think of him, especially when I have a bow out or I’m using the quiver that he made for me so many years ago. That quiver is more precious to me now than gold. It’s a keepsake and a reminder of how a great friendship began. Whenever I’m in the woods, I know that his spirit is watching me, laughing at my misfortunes and cheering my successes, from a better place where he’s free from his pain and suffering. I miss my friend and long for the friendship that we shared, for he was a rare man indeed.
Well, I was slightly apprehensive about meeting this guy despite the great rapport we had on the phone. I figured I’d just get my quiver and be on my way after a few minutes. I knocked on Glenn’s door and was greeted by the symphony of barking dogs. The door opened and there stood a man my height wearing a big smile. He yelled at the dogs and motioned me in. There was a magic about Glenn that to this day I’ll never be able to explain and there was a warmth in that house that seemed to welcome anybody inside. Glenn had a special way of making anybody feel at ease and comfortable. He led me to his basement workshop and showed me the quiver he had made. It was absolutely incredible; the workmanship and quality were simply amazing and no detail was overlooked. I happily forked over my $100.00 knowing that a product of this quality would have set me back four times as much anyplace else.
We went into his basement family room and I spotted a collection of arrowheads and spear tips that would have been a museum curator’s wet dream. There were relics from the Egyptian Empire, the Roman Empire, and hundreds of Native American stone arrowheads all neatly arranged, labeled and encased in wooden and glass display boxes. Glenn came even more alive and excited as he caught me studying his collection. He spent over 90 minutes showing me different pieces and entertaining me with stories of how he acquired them. Glenn always said you can find a treasure in another mans trash and he was the king of the yard sale bargain. Several of his most valuable collectibles had been acquired through yard sales. Artifacts valued at over $1,000.00 dollars had been obtained for the sum of fifty cents to two bucks. Glenn had an eye for a bargain and a shrewd knack for a good deal.
We began talking and eventually wound up in his back yard with our bows and arrows shooting into hay bales and other assorted targets that he had for his personal use. I discovered how deadly a shot this man was and how freely he dispensed his knowledge of traditional archery. Over the next several hours, I was given an archery clinic that would have cost hundreds of dollars at any sports shop. The day literally flew by and before I knew it six hours had passed and I was long overdue (Anybody who follows my blog knows that this isn’t an unusual circumstance for me). As I was preparing to leave, an aroma of sheer delight attacked my senses. Glenn’s wife had finished preparing dinner. As I made my way through the kitchen I saw a feast fit for a king. His wife had already prepared a place setting for me and I figured I was already late, what would another hour hurt? Glenn’s wife pointed towards the phone and instructed me to call my wife and let her know that I was still alive and kicking and would be dining here this evening. The meal was magnificent as was the company, I thoroughly enjoyed myself. After dinner Glenn and I went back down to his family room and watched several movies and talked about archery, hunting and family. I felt I had found a kindred spirit and a possible good friend for many years.
Glenn and I developed a close friendship and I came know his wife and children very well over the last 13 years. There were many dinners, many hunting trips and many late nights watching movies and just talking about life and life’s obstacles. Glenn had so many talents; he could make or repair anything made of leather, he could load the hottest shotgun shells or bullets and make some of the best traditional arrows to be found anywhere. His hunting and tracking skills were incredible and I was a willing student. But most of all, he was a good friend and a great host, I always enjoyed our times together and looked forward to a long and lasting friendship.
But he also had his demons, which he had spent the last three years of his life battling. Glenn and I grew apart because of these demons, and they affected his health and home life and put a strain on our friendship. I sometimes wonder if I had been a better friend, maybe I could have done more. But Glenn was a very proud man and did things his way, whether anybody approved or not. Addiction ate away at him both physically and emotionally and was tearing apart his family. He had done things that were questionable and had to face up to his actions. Many of Glenn’s friends turned their backs on him, people he’d known for years and had done so many things for in the past, all disappeared from his life. Despite all of it I was still Glenn’s friend and we still talked and visited, although admittedly not as frequently. I tried, honestly, to get through to him, his wife tried, but in the end we all failed. Glenn hadn’t been happy for about two years, he claimed he was depressed (I believe that he was), he had other health issues; some brought on by his addiction and others that weren’t. In the end his demons got the better of him. My friend took his life last October and the memory of the phone call telling me of his tragic passing is as vivid today as it was that fateful October morning.
I remember talking to both his sons and daughter after Glenn’s funeral; the boys were now young men, no longer the boys that I remembered from many years ago. I had watched them grow up and had witnessed so much in their lives. I saw his daughter, such a beautiful young woman and remembered how tiny she was when we first met. It was heart breaking to see the pain in those young eyes, for they had lost their Dad too soon. They had so many unanswered questions and so much hurt to endure. I talked about their Father with them for a good while, reminding them of the man I knew and regarded as a friend. When I remember my friend Glenn, I remember the wisdom and kindness he always showed me and the love and zest he had for life while he was healthy. This was my friend, what he had become due to his illness was sad and such a waste. I still think of him, especially when I have a bow out or I’m using the quiver that he made for me so many years ago. That quiver is more precious to me now than gold. It’s a keepsake and a reminder of how a great friendship began. Whenever I’m in the woods, I know that his spirit is watching me, laughing at my misfortunes and cheering my successes, from a better place where he’s free from his pain and suffering. I miss my friend and long for the friendship that we shared, for he was a rare man indeed.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Letting go
My 18 year old daughter is off to college this week. Another face in an endless sea of college freshmen. I look across the upstairs hall at her empty room and realize that she's one step closer to being on her own and not really needing me anymore. She's had some drama the first few days and I've done what I could to help out but in doing so realize that I made a crucial mistake. I called too much and worried too much. I forced myself into situations I should have let her deal with on her own terms in her own way.
Part of being a good parent is knowing when to let loose on the reigns and let your child run free. It was easier with my son, not so much with my little girl. I need to pull back a bit and let her discover her own independence and in doing so realize that she'll need me that much less. She's growing up and I guess, to be honest, I'm not prepared for it.
Part of being a good parent is knowing when to let loose on the reigns and let your child run free. It was easier with my son, not so much with my little girl. I need to pull back a bit and let her discover her own independence and in doing so realize that she'll need me that much less. She's growing up and I guess, to be honest, I'm not prepared for it.
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