Category: Life

Happy Finest Holiday on EARTH!!!

Have a great, SAFE Fourth of July!

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Flag Day

For the most beautiful flag in the whole wide world.

Long may she wave.

They Gave So Much

The American Cemetery above Utah Beach, photo taken when we were there in January 2015. It’s American Territory and our boys are all buried facing America. And I’m not ashamed to say I’m sobbing while typing this; it is an amazingly moving place.

Remember

Barrancas National Cemetery is a stunning place in its own right. But on a day like yesterday, with brooding clouds in the background and the light playing through the oaks and then being snuffed out by the building showers, it has a magic and poignancy second to none. Adjacent to our Daddy is the Civil War and Spanish American War section (yes, Barrancas is that old) and today we found sailors from ironclads buried there. Then we stopped by to visit Daddy, Uncle Nat and Aunt Dolly, leave them all some fresh flowers and, all the while, think of our precious, sweet John Perry.


The flags are always so terribly beautiful. And paid for so dearly.

Rainy Banglacola Day

Minding my own business. Door to the store opens, polite young lad comes in.

“Excuse me, ma’am. Did I see online that you all sell Islamic hats? Head caps?”

“Noooo. I’m afraid that wasn’t us. Now, in the fall we sell Barbour watch caps, but that’s as close as we come.”

“Do you know where in town I could find one? I have kind of a formal occasion I’d like to wear it for.”

“I can’t think of anywhere, honestly. Tell you what! Why don’t you just stop and ask at the mosque where they get theirs?”

Pregnant pause.

“Why would I ask the mosque? You can’t think of anyplace?”

Nope. I’m done. Good luck.

Happy 100th Ella

There’s never been anyone better

STRIKING FEAR In CHARLOTTE

WHITE SUPREMACISTS…


…from the Rachel Dolezal school of cultural appropriation and intimidation.

I’m just glad the Charlotte police had the sense to get ALL this out STAT, before the CIS white supremacists had their houses and business attacked again by the outraged non-Dolezal/Sean King race reenactors, because Trump/white privilege. WHEW! Hopefully dodged a non-lethal crowd control projectile of the racially charged type.

Ad Astra and Semper Fi

God speed, John Glenn.

Da March Schnee, She Is Coming!

They’re so sexy when they talk like this

THEN ON MON… THE FORECAST BECOMES QUITE COMPLEX AND VERY
CHALLENGING OVER THE ERN PORTION OF THE COUNTRY. THE SHORT WAVE
DIVING THROUGH THE MIDWEST ON SUN PROCEEDS TOWARD THE SOUTHEAST ON
MON AND BEGINS TO INDUCE A SURFACE LOW NEAR THE COASTAL CAROLINAS
BEFORE SHOWING SIGNS OF INTENSIFYING AND LIFTING NORTHWARD. THIS
IS DUE TO A SLIGHT NEG TILT ALOFT OF THIS FEATURE AND THE NEXT
POLAR/ARCTIC UPPER TROUGH PLUNGING INTO THE UPPER MS VALLEY/GREAT
LAKES. DO THE TWO SYSTEMS REMAIN COMPLETELY SEPARATE OR IS THERE
ENOUGH PARTIAL PHASING OCCURRING. EITHER WAY… ONE OF THE RARE
COASTAL STORMS THIS WINTER COULD VERY WELL IMPACT PARTS OF THE
MID-ATL REGION MON AFTN/EVENING INTO TUES MORNING.

THE 00Z ECMWF AND GFS APPEAR TO BE CONVERGING ON COASTAL
CYCLOGENESIS FROM THE CAROLINA COAST TO THE DELMARVA COAST… AS
THE UPPER DYNAMICS CROSS THE APPALACHIANS AND MESHES WITH THE
WOUND UP SURFACE SYSTEM ALONG THE COAST. THE RESULTANT SHOULD BE A
BURST AND FLOURISH IN PRECIPITATION AND GIVEN THE ANOMALOUS COLD
AIR MASS ENTRENCHED OVER THE EAST… IT APPEARS A RATHER
SIGNIFICANT LATE WINTER/EARLY SPRING HEAVY WET SNOW EVENT. NOW
EVEN THOUGH THE TWO LEADING GLOBAL MODELS HAVE COME TO SOME SORT
OF CONSENSUS… THIS REMAINS A HIGHLY FLUID FORECAST GIVEN
MULTIPLE STREAMS IN PLAY. THUS WPC QPF AND WINTER WEATHER
FORECASTERS WENT EXTREMELY CONSERVATIVE TO INTRODUCE INITIAL HEAVY
SNOWFALL AMOUNTS BUT NOT AS EXTREME AS SOME OPERATIONAL SOLUTIONS.
AT THIS MOMENT THROUGH 12Z TUES… WPC WENT WITH THE GREATEST
THREAT FOR SIGNIFICANT ACCUMULATIONS FROM SWRN VA TO ERN PA AND ON
THE ERN EXTENT TO INCLUDE THE CORRIDOR OF DC UP TO BWI AND JUST
SHY OF PHL… THOUGH THE REST OF THE NORTHEAST WILL GET MORE
INVOLVED ON TUES. THUS PTYPE ISSUES COULD BE A MAJOR ISSUE… WITH
QUESTIONS ON ATLANTIC ONSHORE FLOW AND SURFACE LOW TRACK. THE
BOTTOM LINE IS THE GUIDANCE IS COMING TO A CONSENSUS ON A MAJOR
STORM SYSTEM BUT IN QUESTION ARE THE CRITICAL DETAILS AND THIS MAY
BE AN ONGOING PROBLEM LEADING RIGHT UP TO THE EVENT.

Ya don’t say.

So He’s Gone

Our Dad died earlier this evening after a long wasting illness that took a much more severe turn over the past oh six or so months and then really accelerated in the last month as, well, as these things just do. It’s something that of course happens to everyone but it just doesn’t seem like some shared universal human event when it’s your father, does it? The emotions, the memories, the laughs, the tears, the regrets; they all come crashing ashore like the waves in a chaotic storm.

Several of us had planned to go down and visit him this weekend, but we got THE CALL early last week so we hastily rearranged flights and met for one last visit, and I’m so glad we did. Yes, his body had wasted away to but a drawn haggard husk of the mighty bear of a man he once was, at nearly 6’6″ tall and easily weighing 260 in his prime. He knew it was the last time we’d be together, and he drew on what reserves of strength he had managed to sequester away to be, well, himself. Yes, he was weak and so so sick but by god he was sharp as a tack and funny. He was always fond of puns and wordplays, and he brought his “A” game to the surface one last time with us (and honestly I hadn’t heard him in such form in years); we should have hopped in the bed because he had us in stitches. They say a bulb always burns brightest right before it burns out, and last Thursday he was radiant.

So I’m very blessed that my last memory of him was him being him, and I will always treasure that final gift.

Tonight’s Song

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZmQrKdlBvIw

“One of These Days Somebody Will Be Blowing Taps for Me”

And so they are.

Korean War veteran Guy Taylor died Monday night at the age of 84.

May there be bugles aplenty for you, Marine, in the great ever after. Thank you.

Semper Fi.

Altared Skirts

This is pretty neat:

A piece of fabric described as the Holy Grail of fashion history will become one of the star attractions at Hampton Court Palace after it was identified as the only surviving piece of clothing worn by Elizabeth I.

The country’s leading experts on royal garments have spent the past year piecing together clues about the provenance of the beautifully embroidered textile, which had been cut up and used for hundreds of years as an altar cloth in a Herefordshire parish church.

(hat tip to Insta)

Oh Holy Night

May the Hope of this blessed event fill you with comfort and joy, and allow you to face all that may arise with calm confidence.

Peace And Joy, Where Ever You Are.

This

Ben Stein on the post-election atmosphere: They’ve Gone Insane

I just don’t get it. People are going insane about Donald Trump being president-elect. It’s beyond the wildest anger and fear I saw even about Richard Nixon, my hero. And, as I say, I just cannot see it.

For example, this morning, I got several emails from men who had been my friends since high school. “America is going through its worst days ever,” said one letter. “We’re going to lose everything,” said another.

It gets even worse. A dear old friend — a woman who has been my close friend since the mid 1970s, a woman who never even liked Hillary Clinton much — has simply refused to speak to me since election night. Her daughter, the wife of a wealthy real estate developer, sent me hate mail election night, when she learned I had reluctantly voted for Mr. Trump.

Why are people so upset? What has Mr. Trump done that’s so awful? His choices for the Cabinet fall well within the range of the usual types — Wall Street, campaign helpers, ideological bedfellows. Despite what you may have read online, none of them has made horrible statements. None is a Klansman. None is a Nazi. They have different views from those of the ACLU, but that’s what you get in a free country.

The voters voted in a candidate with certain views. That candidate won fair and square. He gets to choose people he agrees with and who agree with him.

I have a ton of friends on Facebook, etc., and I look at what they are posting and I just shake my head in disbelief. Of course, I don’t respond and really never get involved in political craziness on FB because, well, a) it’s just pathetic how carried away people allow themselves to get when they’re not sitting in the same room with someone who has the temerity to maybe kinda sorta have a different opinion on things, and b) well as a conservative I’m just schtupid and should really just shut up for my own and Society’s Good.

And they STILL wonder why they lost.

Update: Here’s an example. The Left is screaming that “ZOMG Trump supporters boo John Glenn”

Take a listen. There’s definitely some booing when Trump mentions Mercury, but it seems to me Trump doesn’t consider these folks supporters.

75 Years

75 years ago we were taught a very important lesson, that an enemy can strike us anytime, anywhere.

And now I guess there’s some sort of kerfluffle because Abe won’t “apologize” during his historic trip to Pearl

Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe won’t apologize for Japan’s attack when he visits the U.S. naval base at Pearl Harbor later this month, the government spokesman said Tuesday.

Chief Cabinet Secretary Yoshihide Suga said that “the purpose of the upcoming visit is to pay respects for the war dead and not to offer an apology.”

Abe announced late Monday that he would have a summit meeting with President Barack Obama in Hawaii and visit Pearl Harbor. He will be the first Japanese leader to go to the site of the Japanese attack that propelled the United States into World War II.

Why should he? I sure as hell don’t want the US to apologize for attacks we made. It was a war. They made a calculated decision that by striking first they could knock us out.

Happily we were very very lucky and they were mistaken.

Ding, Dong

The son of a bitch is DEAD.

Hardest hit?

Jimmy Carter and Justin Trudeau…you’re shocked, right?

And media people are bemoaning our President-elect’s “lack” of diplomacy in HIS Fidel’s demise tweet, where I think it’s perfectly succinct and appropriate for the moment:

SWEET! Let’s pray vile brother Raul takes a sudden sharp turn towards the Cuba Libre, shall we?

We Are So Proud of You, Sgt John

From your first day on Earth, when I looked at your little red face through the hospital glass, to the day we watched you marching with that uniform on and got to meet the incredible woman who would become your wife, with everything (like 2 children) in between and afterwards, you have FOREVER been an integral, much loved part of OUR lives. Your mom Kcruella has been the sister I never had and you? Our second son, Ebola’s little brother, forever cousin, the family ties thicker than blood.

I can’t think of anything to say, my heart is so heavy and sick. Ebola had something perfect to say and so I will leave it to him, with a simple God bless you, baby boy and I pray He holds your family close.
JohnAndMe002

Dear Lord, we love you so much.

I was raised the sole child of two Marines in Southern California; my friends and my family are their friends/coworkers and children from while my parents were stationed there. Three of those children were my brothers, even while we’ve always referred to each other as cousins over the last thirty years. Years of playing hide and seek, riding bikes, of reiterating every line to Predator and/or Aliens as the movies played, laughing and bitching at each other, playing capture the flag, tag, finding injured animals and trying to nurse them to health, and telling bad jokes. We’ve all gone our separate ways over the years: the twins are successful in business, the other two of us entered service. All of us rarely get to see each other, even for special occasions, but it’s always the normal shit talking, smiles, laughter, the hate and situational discontent of youngsters. We all still talk to this day, almost thirty years later.

At 0136Z on the 12th of November, while I slept in the comfort of my home in the Pacific, the Taliban took part of my childhood. They took our brother. They took him from a loving wife, their beautiful children, from his mother and father, from an extended family, of blood and without, who loves him dearly. I’d just shot him a message ten days before, telling him happy birthday. I can’t stop reading our last email chain, filled with our normal bullshitting, split over days due to conflicting schedules and locations.

John: “What do you think you’re doing?”

Me: “I assume making huge mistakes and blaming other people. How’s life cuz?”

John: “Life is good. Probably not as pleasant as Guam, but the ol’ Stan has its perks. You can buy a magic carpet over here but it won’t fly. It will make around $1500 disappear from your wallet. I just got a box from your mom and dad loaded with cookies. How much longer is your tour over there?”

Me: “Probably extending until Oct. Waiting to see if my SERE instructor or HUMINT packages get accepted. If they do, the AF retains me, if not I get out and go back to contracting. How in the fuck do camel rugs run 1500? What a racket. lol”

John: “So you’re staying in Guam until October or are you getting out then? Those rugs are expensive but about 1/4 the cost they are in the states for a handmade Kashmir Persian rug. Smoother and softer than a babys’ ass. They’ve got all kinds of crap out here you can get custom made. I’m thinking about getting a new MOS myself but I’ve got to wait until I get back and find out where the Army is sending me next.”

The last words between John and I are shooting the shit about a fucking rug. To be honest, I wouldn’t have it any other way: it was us, as we’ve always been. We’re both family and we know it, it never required quaint expressions or platitudes of familial bullshit. I chuckle thinking about it, things never changed in all those years, even though we’re both vastly different individuals from who we were in our youth. I still remember trying to explain to him as kids that his wearing his LA gear shoes lit up and gave away our position during capture the flag. His talking me into telling a dirty joke, memorizing it the first time through, smiling and running to rat me out to Pop.

I can’t do shit but sit here, hate that I can’t kill every one of these goat fucking shit shamans, and wait for a time where I can do something besides tell our families I love them. When I came into the Air Force, my highest honor, to this day, was escorting my flight commander, Nathan Nylander’s family. The distinct, burning memory I have of that is standing at attention on the flight line as his body was brought off the aircraft, and having his young children begin to cry, not a stones toss from me, as the realization set in that it was really happening. It fucking destroyed me. That pain, though painfully memorable, was momentary. It was the singular hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, until now. I know that is coming for my family and the absolute pain and hatred it inspires in me is indescribable. I want to strike out, to defend something that has already passed defending. There is nothing but the most tenuous vapors the wind to strike at. My hatred accomplishes nothing, which only makes me hate all the more deeply. I am sitting at the squadron right now as I write this, a non-commissioned officer in the strongest military on the planet, thousands of miles from our families, on a beautiful island filled with wonderful people that can’t drive to save their lives… and //I can’t fucking do anything.// Now, I’ve typed a small book and said nothing I wanted to say by it.

I’ll close with what John already knew: I love him like a brother, and I wish all our/my friends had had the opportunity to get to know the fucking badass he grew into. I have no hesitation in saying he grew into a better man than I did and that will live on through his children.

JohnAndBratty

Signs Of The Times

or “lack there of” actually.

I hate this election, I really really do.

As has been obvious I haven’t been posting much at all just because I am so disgusted and dispirited by everything attached to and associated with it, and I know I’m not alone in this feeling. Here in Deep Blue New Jersey as I drive around I see hundreds of signs advocating various candidates for various local offices…but interestingly none for the Presidential candidates; and by “none” I do mean none. Thinking back on years past when the yards were festooned with “Gore” and “Obama” and “Bush” signs it is shocking to drive around and see no Trump or Hillary signs; and the lack of Hillary signs is especially so here in New Jersey (and frankly should be very troubling for her and her Party).

There is ONE sign in my town with her name on it, and it’s not exactly a ringing endorsement:

hillsign1

I’m writing in my Bride’s name on my ballot.

Oh Fer Gawd’s Sake

This is just beyond stupid

Save the Children Report on Girls Ranks U.S. 32nd Out of 144 Countries
by EMMA MARGOLIN

The United States has finished behind countries including Algeria and Kazakhstan in a new ranking of the best and worst countries in which to be a girl.

The report compiled by Save the Children suggested Sweden was the best place for young females to live. Niger finished at the bottom. The U.S. was rated 32nd on the 144-country list.

Not all rich countries are doing as well as they could for their girls, according to the non-governmental organization. It singled out the U.S. in particular.

“There are things where we do not shine on the U.S. side,” said Carolyn Miles, president and CEO of Save the Children. One major example she pointed to was female representation in national government.

I cordially invite Emma and her cohorts to move to Algeria and Kazakhstan and enjoy the glorious life for women there.

Please.

Go.

The First Concerto Ever Recorded

Also happens to be my favorite (mind you, the score was heavily edited to go from 30+ minutes as written to the 6 minutes the wax could hold)

Ah, What A World

Not much else to say, really.

Shine On Harvest Moon

I Do Miss Our Boy

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sigh

He wasn’t much of a vegetable eater

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but cow…

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nom-nom

The Waco Kid, Dr. Frahnk-en-shteen, Willy Wonka

…and so many more have left the building today.



Thank you, Gene.

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