Sunday, November 17, 2013


    I had just finished a 50 hour work week and to be honest with you… I hurt a bit, the years are catching up with me.  If I had my choice I’d stick with a 30 hour week but I have a commitment to my employer and I’ve got financial obligations.  I’m not rich by some people’s standards but I’m comfortable by my own, so normally when given the choice I take a pass on overtime at work unless I need a little extra cash for something I want.

    Like I said, I was already 50 hours into this week but something came up that I needed extra money for so I volunteered for an additional 10 hour shift to do some equipment modifications while production was shutdown.  My time off is important to me, I’ve got a lot of stuff to do around the house, the thermostat is out on my truck so I have a cold ride home from work each morning, my car had an ignition sensor go out so I can’t use it right now, I have to cut firewood, I’m in the process of fencing 6+ acres for the calf I have (and another I’ll be getting in the spring) and I still have to do some woodwork for my youngest girl.  What could be so important for me to push everything aside to pick up a few extra bucks?  Parts for my vehicles or materials for the fence… No, I’ve already got that covered, maybe a new saw for the woodshop… No, I’m good there too, a new chain saw… a gun or some ammo… or some other trinket or toy… No, I’m happy with what I have.  So what could it be?
    I read a story about a group of people, an organization, a club if you will… I wanted to join them.  Most groups or clubs have places to meet, gatherings and common interest.  This club doesn’t really have any of these.  There aren’t any bylaws, I won’t know any other members, I’ll never go to a meeting but that’s OK, I’ll pay my dues and join them anyway.  There is one thing all the members have in common, a desire to make a difference.  The story I read was about Operation Underground Railroad, a private  group of former CIA, FBI, Navy SEALs, Army Rangers, Green Berets, etc… that track and rescue children from sex trafficking rings operating around the world.  The people of Operation Underground Railroad have the intel, the technology, the skills and most of all the COURAGE. The one thing they lack is funding.  This was my opportunity to join them, my contribution of one day’s pay, 10 hours of my life, combined with donations from others will help to rescue a child from further horrific abuse.
    It wasn’t NBC, CBS, CNN or even FOX News… Glenn Beck was the first to bring this story to light, his call for donations to resulted in over $300,000 being raised in one day.  With the donations, the organization immediately launched two rescue missions, one in Haiti, the other location yet undisclosed and more missions in work.  Members of the rescue teams or jump teams for the time being have outside jobs but if $1 million could be raised the teams would be able to focus fulltime on rescue efforts, but their goal is to raise $5 million to become fully operational.

    I could try to tell their story but they do a much better job so please visit them, read the goals they have set, see the videos and make a donation. A Challenge To All… Match Me, Donate 10 Hours pay.


Thursday, November 7, 2013

Ham & Beans

    Sunday morning (stupid early) 3:45 A.M., it’s still dark outside but I can’t sleep anymore so I start the coffee and stepped out on the porch for a smoke.  The sky was full of stars and the air was comfortably crisp and still.  I sat on the step taking another drag on the cigarette still wondering why I was up so early then it came to me, daylight savings time ended this morning, but still it’s early.  The next few hours were more of the same, coffee, smokes, a bit of the early news until the sun started to push the darkness aside, this was my clue to shower, dress and get ready for church.  I sat in the pew listening to the sermon, relaxed and at peace, after the service my wife had a few small repairs for me to take care of in the parish office, a broken ceiling panel and install a vent cover (easy stuff).  Then she wanted a book case picked up from her mom’s house and brought home for her craft room.  When I got home and finished her “Honey Do List” the rest of the day was mine (after a short 45 minute nap… the early start caught up to me).
    As I mentioned before, its Sunday but not just any Sunday, it’s the first Sunday of November.  For most that doesn’t mean anything special but around here it’s the day one of the top shooting matches of the year (Ham Shoot).  Saint Martin’s Catholic Church in Siberia Indiana is one of the small parish communities in the area, unless you happen to be driving along Indiana State Road 62 and notice the sign at the edge of the bean field on the south side of the road… you may never know Siberia Indiana even existed.  A  church, a few houses, surrounded by farms, hills and woods, a sleepy little place at best.
    A ham shoot (also sometimes called turkey shoot, spot shoot or still board shoot) is a simple little event. Shooters cut a + into a piece of cardboard marked with a round and post number then pay $3.  When the round comes up the shooters line up side by side (usually 15 to 20 shooters), the cards are placed on post some 30-40 +/- yards away, each shooter loads 1 round in their shotgun (usually 12 gauge) takes aim then shoots at their card.  After all the shooters have finished a runner pulls the cards off the posts, taking them to a judge.  While the cards are being pulled by the runner another runner is putting cards for the next round on the post and it all starts again.  The judge sorts through the cards keeping any that have a pellet mark/hole close to the center of the +, each of these cards are measured (under a magnifying glass if needed, down to .001” at times) the one closes to the center wins.  The winner gets a choice of processed ham, bone-in smoked ham or cash (I think it was $20 or $25).
    By the time I arrived they were already into round 34, I bought a card and waited my turn… my first shot lost, same on the second but this gave me a chance to see the pattern my gun was sending down range.  On my third shot ($9 spent so far) I raised my 870 Wingmaster to my shoulder, three deep breaths and exhaled, the bead was on target and steady, I squeezed the trigger… BAM, a solid hit, I stepped back and waited for the winning card to be announced.  Sure enough my card number was announced, I picked a large bone-in ham… (Ham & Bean soup, Ham & Eggs and Ham Sandwiches’ would soon follow).  Normally that’s when I stop but I had only been at the match for 20 minutes and still had $11 in my pocket.  I shot again but I missed the mark so I took another chance, three deep breaths and exhale, bead on target, trigger squeezed… BAM, another solid hit and again my number was called, another large ham for the freezer.  I did take one more shot, a miss but I was already well ahead of what I wanted, it was time to head home (I had some cooking to do).
    One thing I noticed as I walked through the crowd, a large ham under each arm, I was met with wide eyes and smiles, words of congratulations and slaps on the shoulders.  Although there were winners and losers, no participation trophies, no equality of outcome, in a group of 300+ people and an easy 200 or so guns… No one was shot… no angry words.  This happens all over the country on nice Sunday afternoons, cool Friday evenings, at churches, at American Legion Post and VFW’s, Sportsman’s Clubs, etc…  I’ve been going to meat shoots for over 30 years now, never once have I seen a disillusioned young "PROGRESSIVE" show up with a rifle and destruction on his mind or an angry thug bent on murder, I guess with the absence of the “Gun Free Zone” sign it’s just not very inviting to them.  But according to O and his minions, I’m a Midwestern “Bitter Clinger” clinging to guns and religion… and a danger. 
Guns and Religion have both served me well, neither have lied to me…
Can you say the same about O?

Time for dinner

Monday, October 28, 2013

Sticks and Stones

    This is one of the stories I had written a few weeks back… I hit the save icon then ignored it.  Now that I have another story to add to it… it’s time to pull it back out.

Sticks and Stones

    Have you ever been with a group of people talking, maybe joking around when someone suddenly spits out a comment that you just didn’t understand but everybody else laughed, slapped their knees and almost doubled over… did you put a smirk on your face and give a little giggle as you looked at the others, hoping they didn’t catch on that you didn’t know what it was that they found so funny.  I know people who have to hide their (for the lack of a better word) ignorance every day, they hear the political speeches and sheepishly nod following the crowd, most of them are the old-school Democrats.  They think of the Democratic Party as the same party they started following in the mid 60’s, the 70’s maybe even the 80’s.

    Late in 2008 early 2009 references started to be made about the “TEA Party” rather than a political party like Republicans or Democrats, the TEA Party has no central organization and very limited uniform core doctrine.  T-E-A stands for Taxed Enough Already, the grassroots movement was built on the goal of reducing the national debt, reducing government spending, eliminating budget deficits and reducing taxes.  The movement is a blend of conservative and libertarian fiscal values but refrains from engaging in social issues and agendas (not always successfully). 

    The TEA Party works on fighting unchecked government growth and ever increasing interjection of government into all facets of individuals’ daily life, this has brought the anger of Progressives down upon them.  When Progressives talk about the TEA Party members they refer to them as “Teabaggers”… when you hear Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid even Obama say “TEABAGGERS” are the cause of this or “TEABAGGERS” are the cause of that, “TEABAGGERS” “TEABAGGERS” “TEABAGGERS” and you hear the crowd cheer, do you put on your half-hearted smirk, give a little giggle, let’s see if I can clear up the confusion for you, wipe away your ignorance.

TEABAGGER: A man that straddles a sex partners face and dips his scrotum/testicles in and out of their mouth as if dipping a teabag into a cup of hot water. 

    So to disparage a group of people, to belittle members of the Tea Party, Pelosi, Reid, Obama all feel free to repeatedly use this derogatory term day in and day out when talking about people that won’t fall in line behind them.  Would you be comfortable if public servants used other derogatory terms as openly when referring to another group?  Would you smirk at the word “Wetback”?  Would the word “Cunt” give you the same giggle?  What if a politician standing at the government’s (the peoples) podium said “Spook” or “Nigger” when talking about people that won’t fall in line behind them… acceptable???  Disparage a group of people, to belittle members, derogatory term day in and day out.

    Myself, I’m not associated with any TEA Party group but I agree with most all of their views and even if I didn’t I would still speak out against this open marginalization of people who are concerned with what is happening in our nation.  Now that you are no longer ignorant to the words being spit into your face… where do you stand?  I’ve been called worse, time for me to stand shoulder to shoulder with like-minded people and accept that Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid and Obama are going to call me a “Teabagger”. Remember, for every “Teabagger” there must be a “TEABAGGEE” in the world of progressive politics in the end you fall into one of two categories, you’re either with them or against them.  If conservative/libertarians that don’t agree with them are “Teabaggers” I guess by default that makes them the… “TEABAGGEES”.


Until I wrote this, I never thought I’d use these words…
Speaking Truth to Power

More Name Calling

    During the first two weeks of October a select group of conservative politicians stood up and did exactly what they promised their constituents they would do… FIGHT OBAMACARE!  Mainly Senators, Ted Cruz and Mike Lee led this effort, they were sent to Washington by the voters of Texas and Utah to stop the damage Obamacare is causing and will cause.  For their efforts they were called Anarchist, Jihadist, Hostage-Takers, Political Arsenates, TEA Party Terrorist, etc… They were called out by all levels of the Democratic Party and the “Lap Dog” mainstream media.  That was to be expected but what wasn’t to be expected was the same behavior by members of the Republican Party.  Of all the issues that should have had a united front from the so called “Conservatives” this was the one.

    The defund tactic was the second to the last chance to stop Obamacare (the last chance at limiting its damage), then the option offered to delay implementation could have given breathing room to both sides to negotiate.  Myself, I preferred the defund rout but if that failed I’m ready to go for the last chance to stop Ocare, full implementation…  This program will collapse and it will cause a massive amount of damage, economic and otherwise.  You can only tell the child so many times “Don’t Touch the Stove” before its time to kick the stepstool up to the stove and be ready to pick-up the pieces.  The offer to delay only meant another year of telling the child “Don’t Touch the Stove”.  Now that the preverbal stepstool has been kicked up to the stove some of the children are having second thoughts.

    One week after the bitter attacks, name calling and threats lodged against Senator Cruz, Lee and others by the Media, the Democrats and the Republican Leadership, at least ten (likely more) Democrats led by Sen. Joe Manchin (D-W.Va.) and Sen. Jeannen Shaheen (D-N.H.) have now called for either an outright delay or an extension to the deadline, the same call made by Cruz and Lee.  Funny thing about the words “Delay” and “Extension” they both mean to postpone… Do we hear the words Anarchist, Jihadist, Hostage-Takers, Political Arsenates, etc… used to describe the Democrats now asking to postpone the Obamacare individual mandate?  No, now we hear words like prudent, measured, sensible and of all things, wise.  I find it simply astonishing that a “D” or “R” following a name can be covered so differently.

    Even Obama one week later is flirting with delaying the implementation of select parts of his signature debacle… the mid-term elections are just around the corner.  Can the Democratic Representatives, the Senators due re-election withstand the imposed public pain?  Gauging by their frantic calls for implementation delay, apparently not.  Will the Republican leadership face fall-out for their decision to undercut Senators Cruz and Lee?  I certainly hope so.  Note to the establishment Republicans:  Your decision to “Runaway and live to fight another day” seems to have become the parties default stance, in the end you’ve become little more than Democrat-Lite.  Since you (the Republican Party) cannot be counted on to promote my values and principles, my full support will go to candidates endorsed by the Senate Conservatives Fund and having family/friends in Kentucky, Mitch McConnell (R-KY) is as good a person as any to start with.

    The Senate Conservatives Fund has endorsed Louisville businessman Matt Bevin to replace McConnell in the U.S. Senate to represent the people of Kentucky.  I highly recommend all family and friends take a moment to visit Mr. Bevin’s web site  then please ask your family/friends to do the same and if you have considered donating to a political organization please consider donating to the Senate Conservatives Fund (SCF).
    Another early endorsement by the SCF is for Chris McDaniel over incumbent Republican Sen. Thad Cochran from Mississippi.  Yes, taking the Senate is the goal but first we need to clean our own house…

Tuesday, October 22, 2013


    The past few weeks I haven’t posted any new stories not that I haven’t been writing but they’ve all been a bit depressing or angry, so I ignored them and pressed on with life. 

    Tuesday (Oct. 8) was the end of a stressful several days, I had been doing battle with an obstinate 500 pound Angus calf we had gotten the weekend before.  Within 15 minutes of stepping off the trailer she ran through the fence, bolting off into the woods.  I spent a few days climbing through the brush and thickets trying to drive her back to the pen (she wasn’t having any part of that).  My daily romps through the woods and overgrown fields during my search resulted in several thorn related scrapes and a massive case of chigger bites (my chigger bites had chigger bites).  Finally after a few days I got a call from the neighboring dairy farm, the calf showed up at their place and was hold up with their cattle (that was a relief).  She stayed there for a couple of days to calm down then back on the trailer and back home.  This time instead of letting her have full run of the field I kept her confined in a stall hoping she would get use to me feeding and watering her at the same time each day, so she would trust and come to me. 
    This brings me back to Tuesday afternoon, I had been working on the fence for a few hours at a steady pace, reinforcing it so I wouldn’t have a replay of Bonnies escape (my youngest girl named the calf Bonnie after Bonnie and Clyde… because she’s on the run and hard to catch).  When I came in the house to get ready for work my wife Sally asked if I had heard anything on the 1 Million Vet March… I really hadn’t been paying any attention to anything on the news or twitter for several days so I pull it up on the computer, there I found the call for Vet’s to march on DC and to open the Veteran’s Memorials on Sunday, October 13th.  At first I thought to myself, I’d sure like to go and be a part of that but… I have to work, I have to get the fence fixed up, I have a thousand things to do…
    Yes, I had a thousand excuses but for the next hour the call nagged at me, an old military saying kept running through my mind and twisting deep in my gut, Service Before Self, Service Before Self, Service Before Self, it had been many years since I had that feeling.  I asked Sally “Ya want to go to DC?” Without hesitation she said “YES!” (I think she had already started packing).  I still had to get a few things taken care of.  That night at work I told my Supervisor I’d need a few days off and why (I knew they would be shorthanded, he knew they would be shorthanded) again without hesitation the answer was “YES! GO! I only slept a couple of hours each of the next few days, working on the fence through the day then 11 hour shifts through the night by Thursday afternoon the pasture was secured and I let the calf out of the stall.  She pushed at the fence in a few places then settled down and began to graze, one problem out of the way.  Working through Thursday night some thoughts of what the weekend may hold crept up, not all of the thoughts were comforting but I had to brush them aside because deep inside I knew I had no choice… Service Before Self.

    We left our small Southern Indiana community at noon on Friday, Sally drove the first half while I tried to catch a bit of sleep when we hit the hills of West Virginia the radio started losing reception so I pulled out my phone to see if Glenn Becks podcast would download, it did.  We got some good news (or bad news depending on how you look at it) Mr. Beck was going to be at the Capitol Lawn on Saturday morning and he was asking for a day of service, asking for people to clean (pick up trash) along the National Mall from the Capital lawn to the Washington Monument.  With the rain now dumping down we didn’t expect to get to our daughters place in DC until after 1 A.M., another night of little sleep… again Service Before Self.
    After a couple of hours of sleep we jumped on the train headed for the Capital, a light misty rain surrounded us as we walked up out of the station.  I was thinking this is going to be a bit miserable, I’m tired, most likely I’m going to be soaked by the end of the day and am I really going to make a difference… People were already gathering on the lawn around a small fenced off podium, as I got closer I could pick out Michelle Bachmann, Mike Lee and Glenn Beck.  As if staged the misty rain faded as each stepped to the microphone delivering words of inspiration and hope for our nation.  I found myself revived by their words, ready to walk a simple path that day and possibly a harder path the next.  The words that started this journey echoed as I walked along the grass of the National Mall picking up beer cans, water bottles, cigarette butts and candy wrappers, Service Before Self.
    I don’t know how long I had walked, an hour or two maybe I found myself at the fence surrounding the Washington Monument.  I looked back towards the Capital building in the distance noticing how it looked small now, it seemed as though only moments had passed but now I stood holding a bag of trash, I had done something that others may have felt was beneath them but I felt proud, I felt the same pride of any job well done.  My wife and daughter were standing on the walkway that circled the monument and led to the World War II Memorial waiting for me to join them.  We strolled along discussing some of the stranger items we had found, a few coins, a pile of plastic tags and a set of windshield wipers to name a few.  As we topped the slight hill we were looking down on the World War II Memorial, a simple circular design of stone, grass, water and bronze… semi-circle pillars, slabs, steps and ramps… something given by a free people to honor the ones who had given of themselves to restore and protect that same freedom.  All being held hostage at the discretion of one petty little man, a man that could never understand Service Before Self.
    We walked closer looking at the barricades still surrounding this gift of remembrance, this place given as thankful acknowledgment to a generation that sacrificed much, this sanctuary for those and to those who had walked the walk in units like the 82nd Airborne, the Bloody 100th, The Big Red 1, the men that stormed the beaches of Normandy, Iwo Jima and Okinawa, the ones who battled a bitter enemy and the bitter cold in Belgium during the Battle of the Bulge, the airmen that flew daylight bombing raids over Germany with no fighter cover, served on the USS Indianapolis, the Arizona, the over 12,000 Americans stranded to endure the horrors at the hands of enemy forces on the island of Bataan and countless others.  I felt a tightening in my throat, a queasiness in my stomach, like others had already done I stepped around the barricade and walked down the ramp. No one tried to stop me, no one question me… that may have been a good thing because the anger began to boil.  I stood silently between the pillars just looking and watching the people walk around then I started to walk to the pond in the center, water has always had a calming effect on me, something I needed.  Standing on the edge of the lower step looking into the glass smooth water I noticed a small piece of plastic floating along the edge, stooping down I picked it out of the water.  I began walking along the lower step circling the pond scanning the ground to the left and the pond to the right… a cigarette butt here, a candy wrapper there, a glob of gum stuck in the corner, all picked up, a heaping hand-full by the time I walked all the way around this little pond.  This time it wasn’t because of Service Before Self, I cleaned this area for myself.
It had been a long day and my daughter had to go to work in a few hour so we headed back to the train station.  We stopped off for a late lunch, my daughter went to work and my son-in-law drove me and Sally to the local Catholic Church for evening mass, the perfect end to an emotional but productive day.

    On Sunday morning I was up just before sunrise, Sally was already dressed and packing a small backpack.  I started the day as I normally do, coffee, smoke, the news… it takes me a bit to spool up, then a shower and dressed.  We decided to drive to the memorial so we could take extra drinks, rain suits if needed and a meeting place if we split up.  Pulling into DC we parked on the street just off to the side of the Memorial, I was only yards and moments away from Standing In Defiance of a bloated and unprincipled bureaucracy.  The call had gone out (as reported in The Washington Free Beacon) National Park Service rangers and park police were ordered to “Make Life Difficult” for visitors.  Let’s see, I’ve had jet fuel blasted in my face while I struggled to seal a leak on a center wing tank.  I wore a charcoal lined chemical warfare suite for days on end in the hot Texas sun… just for practice.  I laid in a puddle of “Blue Water” in the cargo bay of a Med-Evac C-9A in subzero weather fixing the aircraft toilet so the patients onboard weren’t inconvenienced.  Were the National Park Service rangers and park police really going to be able to “Make Life Difficult” for me?

    A few hundred people had already gathered, the barricades were being laid in a pile off to the side, all but two, two were left standing, on them were large photos of the men left to die in Benghazi Libya.
I looked around for a park ranger, none… the park police, not a sign.  I walked to the other side of the crowd, there they were, a hand full of park police were standing a few hundred yards away.  I wondered, where were the brazen brave officers that faced down 80, 90 year-old-men only days before.  The officers that would refuse the frail old men as they shuffled along the barricades, frail old men that rolled up to a closed entrance.  Where are the armed officers, now the grounds were being breached by a rag tag group of Vets, Bikers and Truckers… a rag tag group joined by family, joined by factory workers, joined by Joe six-pack. 
    The crowd continued to build and high profile speakers began to arrive Sarah Palin, Mike Lee, Ted Cruz… again words of inspiration and words of hope.  After Mrs. Palin finished speaking she turned to shake the hands and thank the people standing behind her, my wife Sally was standing right there… it really made her day to shake hands with Mrs. Palin.  Soon bikers and truckers began driving along the road that passed the memorial, engines revving and horns blasting and flags waving.  The crowd cheered and clapped but it wasn’t long before the DC Metro Police pulled up to block the road putting a halt to the drive-by (The police stayed in their vehicles). 
Myself, I’m not real comfortable standing in a crowd but I was just a few feet behind Sally, as I listened I scanned the crowd there was one heckler but a few guys standing shoulder to shoulder walked him out of ear-shot.  There were a few others that just didn’t carry themselves right, military guys can pick each other out in a crowd, the head held high, shoulders back, the steely eyed gaze… a few just didn’t have any of the tells.  Other than the few everyone met me with a smile, a hand-shake, a hand on the shoulder… I met old friends…for the first time is the best I can describe it.

    I overheard some of the organizers talking, they said “The other memorials were open (the blockades removed), all except the Lincoln Memorial”.  I looked downrange I could see a small line of people standing at the foot of the steps, the rails still in place.  The comment was also heard by others, it was repeated through the crowd, the move started, we strolled past the lake separating the WWII Memorial and the Vietnam Memorial (The Wall).  There was a line backed up past the entrance to the reflective smooth black stone panels that held the names of those lost in Vietnam, looking sleek and strong but inviting to the thousands of hands caressing it in remembrance of family and friends lost.  We walked past the people huddled around the Vietnam Women’s Memorial and the Three Soldiers statue, every one quiet, solemn and respectful.
    Now we were only yards from the Lincoln Memorial, the barricades were being drug away.  I hurriedly walked up to the steps only a few barricades remained in-place.  One of the last were being held by two Park Police Officers as determined Vets, Bikers, Truckers etc… grabbed at the rail the Officers initially seemed to tighten their grip, then I saw the power we possessed.  One scruffy old Vietnam era looking man pointed his crooked finger in the face of one of the young Officers and said “LET GO!” they both released the rail and scampered away.  I walked up the steps to the mid-level, I looked at the crowd forming above me on the top steps then I turned and looked back to the World War II Memorial as far as I could see, Free People were walking along and enjoying what belongs to them…
These were not servants or slaves beholden to a dictator or a master, being told where they can go… OR CAN’T!  I felt a tightness in my throat, a bit of a tear welled up, not out of sadness or anger but of joy and pride.  It was there upon a step I did stand, by myself and with thousands. 


The order to “Make Life Difficult” makes me wonder, in a year or two if President Stompy Feet wants to apply pressure to political opponents in Congress, instead of blocking parks could he be calling Health and Human Services and block the public’s access to insulin, maybe heart medication, possibly surgeries.  Do you really think that would be beneath him?  After persecuting 80, 90 year-old Vets…  
Special Thanks to the Officers of the DC Metro Police.  I made a special effort to smile and greet each of them I passed, every single one of them came back with at least a smile and a knowing nod.  They could teach the Park Police a thing or two.

Saturday, September 21, 2013

Clay Pigeons

    “There are very few African-American men in this country who haven’t had the experience of being followed when they were shopping in a department store.”

    “There are very few African-American men in this country who haven’t had the experience of walking across the street and hearing the locks click on the doors of cars.”

    “There are very few African-American men in this country who haven’t had the experience of getting on an elevator and a woman clutching her purse nervously and holding her breath until she had a chance to get off.”
Barack Obama, July 2013.

Victim Chris Lane 23, randomly shot dead by three youths… “for the fun of it”
Victim Joshua Chellew 36, beaten unconscious by four gang members then left in the middle of a five-lane highway where they watched as he was run over by a vehicle.

Victim Pat Mahaney 46, severely beaten by six youths dies from complications… The boys were seeking entertainment and “felt like it.”
Victim Delbert Belton 88, beaten by two youths, died within hours from the injuries. Gang initiation or was it out of “boredom” as claimed by the teens.

Victim Jeffrey Babbitt 62, Brain-dead after received a blindside blow to the head by a 31-year-old male… “The next White person that walks by, I’m going to fuck”
Victim Christopher Newsom 23, after being carjacked he was stripped, bound, sodomized with an undisclosed object, raped by one of the assailants, shot in back, neck and head, finally his body was doused in fuel and set on fire…

Victim Channon Christian 21, (Girlfriend of Christopher Newsom) Channon unlike Chris was taken back to one of the assailants home, there she was repeatedly raped (in every possible way) beaten over and over (until much of her body was unrecognizable).  After at least one, possibly two days of abuse she was still alive, her tormentors then poured bleach all over her body to wash away DNA evidence then they poured bleach down her throat, again to wash away DNA.  Still alive she was bound, stuffed into plastic trash bags then shoved headfirst, upside-down into a kitchen trash bin where she slowly suffocated to death.  Through search efforts of Christopher and Channon’s families and diligent investigating by the police, the house of horrors was tracked down, Channon’s body was still in the kitchen, still in the trash bin.  By all accounts Channon was little more than a few days of entertainment for the four men and one woman convicted of the gruesome murder.

    Seven victims all white, twenty-one assailants twenty black/one white… Cherry Picking? DOJ statics on interracial crime, Black on White crime 75% vs. White on Black crime 10% (Other Combinations 15%).  The latest estimated demographics show the United States population is made up of 12.6% Black, 72.4% White and 15% other.  At this point I could effortlessly counter Obamas call for Americas to do some “Soul-Searching” in the terms of race and the history of African-Americans “that doesn’t go away”, after all 75% of the racially charged crimes are committed by factions within 12% of the population... One could make the point the reputation was hard fought and reactions well deserved… but that’s not the point I want to make.
    At one time the conventional wisdom was when confronted be it a robbery, purse snatching even a carjacking don’t put up a fight, after all its just stuff… a few bucks gone, the hassle of replacing your ID’s, BS paperwork with the insurance company… but still just stuff.  No longer can those thoughts guide actions, robbery and theft are becoming an afterthought (if a consideration at all).  Assailants seek to feed a blood lust, thugs seek to entertain themselves by cruelly torturing another human being for hours if not days… To a small but vicious portion of society, you, me, EVERYONE have become nothing more than clay pigeons on a skeet-range.  The mindset must change, you must be aware of your surroundings, not only should you lock your car doors as someone crosses the street towards you, you should mentally coil yourself and be ready to act.  Our society has produced predators and social cannibals with a thirst for blood not seen since the days of the Roman Empire. 

  A few weeks back I took a road trip to north-east Pennsylvania for a wedding, my wife, mother-in-law and her sister were with me.  It was late Sunday night on the way back (in KY, 40-miles west of Cincinnati OH.) I stopped for fuel at a little place just off the interstate, nothing special a quiet little stop-n-go no other lights around.  As I stretched my legs and pumped the fuel a car pulled up to the front door of the store, three boys (20-22 years-old) in the car were a bit loud, boisterous, full of piss & vinegar and most likely didn’t need the twelve-pack of beer they walked out of the store with.  A few moments later another car pulled into the parking lot, two young ladies jumped out, they pulled some snacks and drinks from the back seat.

    Immediately the girls caught the attention of the three boys and the cat calls began.  At first I don’t think the girls realized they were the objects of the boy’s increasingly vulgar comments… but soon they caught on.  Their eyes widened then they looked towards me, we made eye contact and I gave them a little nod.  I faced the boys and stood quietly but attentive, the boys would have had to go past me to get to the girls… the boys didn’t move.  When the young ladies got in their car I climbed into mine, as they pulled out I pulled out behind them but as I hit the parking lot exit I swung a bit wide to block it for a moment until the taillights disappeared into the night, the boys stayed put behind me.

    Three on one, I knew if something happened I most likely wasn’t walking away and that was my mindset but being an old nuke troop I stand by the idea of “MAD” Mutually Assured Destruction, I’d do my best to make sure they didn’t walk away neither.  Along with the obscenities the boys were yelling they also yelled some racial slurs, it was three WHITE boys and two BLACK girls but I didn’t see color, I saw  trouble on one side of me and someone that needed if not protection at least reassurance on the other side of me.  It could have been my daughters, at a minimum they were someone’s daughters.

    Glenn Beck told the story of the Newsom/Christian murders on air, it was one of the most difficult stories I had ever listen to… but one that every man must know, take the next few moments, listen to the story, set your resolve, do some “Soul-Searching”.


A Clay Pigeon with a
MAD attitude!!!

Wednesday, September 4, 2013

7th Grader

    As the 7th grader schoolyard punk stood there boasting and snarling out threats a 5th grader stepped forward to call his bluff.  Somewhat shocked but not wanting to show it, he turned to give his lackeys one of his famous “Do You Believe This Guy” Smirks… but as he turned he found he was standing all alone.  His throat tighten and sweat began to bead upon his brow.  He turned to face the upstart 5th graded only to find that another 5th grader joined him… and another… and another… and some 6th graders joined in to facedown the 7th grade schoolyard punk.  The once brazen and boastful child now weak and scared, slowly stepped back, then another step and another, his pace quickened until he was in a sprint… as he passed his class mates he yelled “Help me, help me, those kids are starting trouble”.  His class mates, who had been targets of the punk’s brow-beatings, ridicule and bullying stood silently, watching the spectacle unfold.

    This is the picture that came to mind as I watched Obama deal with his missteps in the Syrian civil war.  Once dependable allies have stepped away from the “Lead-From-Behind” leader not knowing if he’ll run off to Vegas or Martha’s Vineyard when the going gets tough.  Adversaries, Iran, Russia and China are stepping forward to defend their interest in the region… maybe their predictable position should have been considered prior to Obamas boastful “RED LINE’ was drawn, perhaps consulting the UN and letting them take charge (like 2+ years-ago and 120,000+ lives… what’s their purpose anyway, social engineering).  Obama laments that the “UN Security Council is ineffective and the timeline for action is excessive…”  Then why do we continue to fund the U.N., nothing better to spend taxpayer money on?  The Arab League (22 oil rich members) should be able to gather up a regional “Peace Keeping” force, after all part of their charter is to “Settle Arab disputes and limit conflicts”, Syria seems to fit the bill.

    For 4-1/2 years conservatives have been told by Obama “Do it MY way… or I’LL go around you and do it anyway”.  For 4-1/2 years conservatives have been ridiculed, lambasted, lied about and attacked by his minions in agencies like the IRS, EPA, NSA, DEA etc… “Tea Baggers” “Want to throw Grand-ma off the cliff” “Republicans WANT dirty air and water” “Flat-Earth Thinkers” etc…  Now the Republican leadership is coming out in favor of Obama’s unilateral decision to kill more Syrians as a reprisal for Syrians killing Syrians…  You’re about 119,000 dead Syrians late!  There is also talk of “Deal Making” for supporting Obamas actions, better ask Bill Clinton about “O” and how good his word is.  When Obama is looking to bring Republicans “onboard” for anything… Repeat ANYTHING, he’s looking for a rube or a patsy, someone to dump the blame on later when things go bad! “It’s Bushes Fault” “It’s the Tsunamis Fault” “It’s those Tea Baggers standing in the way” and the lap dog press will eat it up.  Gift from Obama, Vote Present! (If you even show up that day).  Don’t vote YES, don’t vote NO… He dug this hole, now he’s looking for someone to blame it on.  As far as America looking weak or loosing stature… that happened a few years back fellas’.  Where ya been?
    Do I like what’s happening in Syria or what has happened in the past 2+ years? HELL NO!  But it was allowed to fester for too long, we should have been leading the way at the start, negotiating, jumping up & down on the podium at the U.N., poking and prodding allies and adversaries to gain control over the situation… Now it’s too late.  It would have taken work and commitment and quite frankly Obama is just too lazy to manage either.  Obama, there is no good way out of this, I recommend you start pulling a Benghazi… blame it on a video, American Pop should do, it has America in it and some Jewish content, then you can head to VEGAS BABY, hit the links, 7 months of the press covering for you… who’s going to remember…
The family of Brian Terry?
The families of the 200+ men, women and children gunned down in Mexico? (and counting)
The families of 25 members of SEAL TEAM 6? (Extortion 17 helicopter shot down)
The families of the 5 Army National Guard/Reservist? (Aircrew Extortion 17 helicopter shot down)
The families of the Benghazi 4?
Egypt’s Christian Community?

O’s missteps racked up quite a body count…
Guess it’s not all golf and vacations


Tuesday, September 3, 2013

The Dream (American, or otherwise)

    50 years ago I was a mere babe, so I literally grew up hearing the echoes of the words spoken by Reverend Martin Luther King Jr. a half century ago on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.  Over all those years, I had never had anyone explain the meaning of his words, no one defined the content of his speech to me. 

That is until today…

    On Wednesday August 28, several voices stepped forward to clarify Rev. King’s words, several stepped forward to clear up the lingering misconceptions of Rev. King’s intent.  Among the speakers of note there was Martin Luther King III (son of Rev. King), Oprah Winfrey (still facing oppression… while shopping for a $65,000 purse), Georgia Democratic Rep. John Lewis (a man that marched with Rev. King back in 1963), former Presidents Carter and Clinton (our first “Black” president, his words) and of course Obama (our first “White-Black” president, the MSM’s new descriptive term).
    Obama was gracious enough to channel the Rev. King directly so he could define his intent that summer of 63.  He accused our society of willfully inflicting grievances based on not only race but gender, sexual orientation and wealth.  Then communities across the nation were called out for providing children substandard school, diminished opportunity and inadequate health care.  Finally the once hidden crises of “parental violence” was brought out in the open, as he spoke through Obama. (Well maybe that wasn’t Rev. King speaking but those were the words used).

    Silly me… Over the years I have read Rev. Kings “I Have a Dream” speech a number of times and I failed to pick-up on all these profound points Obama spoke of.  I had always imagined Reverend King was calling for the removal of the intentionally placed obstacles from the path of all (“not be judged by the color of their skin”) so they would be free to advance as far as their individual abilities could take them (“but by the content of their character”).  Those were the most famous words, the most quoted words from that day in August of 63 but not the most important. 

    Of all the words spoken, the most powerful and perhaps the least remembered was the Reverends cautionary statement.

 “In the process of gaining our rightful place, we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds.  Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.  We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline.”

   “…the high plane of dignity and discipline.”  He knew in those early days that the acceptance of the “Black Man” as a social equal hinged on his behavior, again content of character…  There was a time armed guards had to escort children through the doors of a once white segregated school, now their grandchildren need guards to escort them through their own neighborhoods because of those who claim the rights of the struggle but do not remember their responsibility to the struggle.

“We must FOREVER conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline.”

These should have been the words most quoted.  How much further could we be as a nation if we lived this phrase, these simple words are the key, the covenant to equality.  The door of acceptance is open, it opened many years ago, we’ve been waiting for you…