Our Day of Infamy

What follows is an account of what I was doing on this day fourteen years ago. It is predominantly a re-post from a few years ago but this day will always hold more significance for me because I spent the last two 11 Septembers in Afghanistan. I didn't go there because of today, but if it hadn't been for this day I wouldn't have been there. On this day most of us remember where we were when we still had a World Trade Center in New York, New York (the town so nice, they named it twice).

For my part, I was going in to work late because I had something to deliver for work in downtown Birmingham. I was going to give my brother-in-law a ride to his condo in Dirt Pile (known to everyone besides he and I as a little burg named Mountain Brook). I stopped at my normal gas station, a Jet Station. You cannot make up the good stuff.

When I went in to pay the clerk told me that an airplane had flown into the World Trade Center. Now this did not concern me one little bit. NOT IN THE LEAST! Because I am a Civil Engineer, at the time I was still in school, in fact, I was taking my Structural Steel class. But I wasn't worried because I know that skyscrapers are designed to withstand an airline collision. Of course, that design is predicated on the fact that the pilot realizes he's headed for a building and is attempting to avoid it. The Empire State Building was hit by a B-25 in 1945. It is, to my knowledge, the highest fire that has ever been successfully put out. But when the pilot realized a collision was unavoidable he was still trying to avoid it.

Getting back into the truck we continued on and heard that the second tower was hit. Immediately I realized, the first plane wasn't trying to miss and we were in for a bad day. Modern sky scrapers are not made to hold the weight of the floors above them. The floors are designed to hold up the weight of the floor, the weight is then transferred down. It is a fascinating concept that is a part of the reason I never wanted to be a structural engineer, however, no engineer can ever look at a structure without thinking load transfer ever.

As the radio told us the second tower was hit I turned to my brother-in-law and said, "Johnny, some country just used to exist." I was as positive of that then as I am now.

Best Birthday Present Ever

A lot of people have been re-sharing their stories about Hurricane Katrina on her 10th anniversary but mine is a little different. The post below is one I did four years ago updated a bit but only the years have changed.

Ten years ago last Saturday I lost contact with all but one of the family I had in the middle of Hurricane Katrina. My Dad, Mom, Uncles, Aunts, Cousins, there are too many to count. Predominantly they were in Biloxi, a few in Ocean Springs, one as far away as Diamondhead (near where the eye passed), but brackish blood runs through the Byrd veins.

The unwritten rules of hurricanes seem strange to most uninitiated. Cutting the grass the day before it hits, having an ax in your attic, calling everyone you know after the power goes out. I was at work 320 miles away as the storm hit, but still in contact with my family. My sister had half-evacuated. She left her home a half mile from the beach in Biloxi and went to her fiance's house in Saucier, maybe 10 miles inland. Mom, Dad, 3 uncles, 2 aunts, at least 2 cousins and a second cousin all stayed in Biloxi. Another aunt, uncle, and at least 2 cousins were in Ocean Springs watching the storm arrive.

Redeemer's Bell Tower

About 10 o'clock. I couldn't get Dad. He, Mom, and a friend of the family were in his house four miles from the front beach. I heard from my sister about 10:30, there was water up to the window sills in the house. None of my other relatives were reachable. Then my sister again about 11, the house had 4 feet of water in it. And then the reports stopped. Not the calls mind you, just the reports there was no news to report. No one knew anything. I was on the phone with cousins in Texas, Washington, an Aunt in Georgia, and people I had not talked to in over ten years. But no one in my family on the Coast except my big sister. The storm passed through my own neck of Alabama. Bad wind, lots of rain, a few limbs down, power out. A neighbor lost some shingles. The power came back on, still no news.

Eleven o'clock turned to noon, one, three, nine pm. The phone was glued to my ear but not with family on the Coast except T-Byrd. On the way home from work I flagged down an SUV that was so full of people there were two guys riding in the back with their feet hanging out the glass because there was no room and told them to follow me for a meal. I tried to take them to our church where we housed a Red Cross Emergency Shelter full of people with names like Thibodaux and Arceneaux with thick Cajun accents. Working with them reminded me of the family I had no contact with. These were the lucky ones that got away just before the levees cracked. They were anxious to get back home to pick up the pieces and start rebuilding, as they had three times before. Yet still no word.

Casino  sitting on Ohr Museum

Tuesday, 8 am. Noon. Two o'clock. I talked with people I didn't even know. Someone who lived down the street from my second cousin twice removed (I love living in the South where you can keep track of these things). I relayed messages and numbers from friends, old friends, and strangers to anyone I could find. Five pm, and still no word. Seven, midnight. My cousins in Texas and Washington were as frantic as I, yet none of us wanted to admit it to each other (am I wrong? I know at least one is reading this now). I was the connection between all of them. I had no idea where our family was, but I was not going to let them down. My own wife had our children under control, freeing me up to do what little could be done to find out about the rest of the family.

Wednesday morning, six am, nothing. Eight, nothing. Then nine, a strange number on the phone. Nothing odd about that now. I had been dialing and being called from area codes and phone numbers I still don't know. I answered and heard my Dad's voice.

The relief that washed across me was strong, but guarded. They were alive. The conversation went like this (not a paraphrase or fuzzy memory here, this is my occasional anal-retentive memory at its best):

"Dad, you have no idea how worried I was."

"Why, we were alright?"

"Dad, the last I heard there was 4 feet of water in your house."

"And?"

"Dad! Mom's only 5 feet tall!"

"Ehhnn."

I could hear him shrugging his shoulders. They had borrowed a neighbor's car and went out checking on things until they found someone who had a working cell phone and called. Within an hour I had reports from all of the Byrd extended clan, no fatalities, no injuries, two and a half houses in need of complete stud to stud, floor to ceiling rebuilding. Uncle Pat and Tara had some pine trees down in their yards (within a mile of one another).

Bunnyhop Bridge

This was the point at which the wave of relief was complete. I hung up my phone for a half hour and basked in the glow. After nearly forty-eight hours of not knowing, I received the greatest Birthday present of all time: the knowledge that my family, that had not bothered to evacuate or retreat in the face of a Category 5 storm (later downgraded to 4) was alive.

Tulles-House or it was before the casino barge landed on it

At the least it was better than my sister's who now shares a birthday with not only the late Michael Jackson but the anniversary of the storm that changed it all.

Where do we go from here

It has been a very long time since I wrote anything other than something for work. Odd for me, definitely different. As I review my old writings I've re-read some of the notes I used as posts while still in Afghanistan. I started from the bottom up so to re-post them now would be odd because a simple scroll down to the second or third posts back would see the same things, but I had some odd connected thoughts.

I also stumbled across one I didn't blog, or don't think I blogged because I didn't note when I blogged it. It was a post about the Battle of Bunker Hill but it was symbolic of a stand that I was about to make--and did. It may or may not have cost me what it could but it certainly came at a cost. Or maybe it was a benefit. No one would quite get the meaning or emphasis out of the writing that I did. Yet that never used to bother me. To be honest, still doesn't.

So maybe I'm back, maybe not. The site definitely needs to be redone but I'm not sure which way to go. Only time will tell, maybe a little time, maybe a lot. We'll see.

A Year without Posting

I knew that something was wrong. Something was missing. Something wasn't right. I tried to fix it, and failed. I decided I'd try again in a few days, when things slowed down. They haven't, I didn't. Finally in frustration I asked for help.

The response I got wasn't helpful at all. I tried to follow the instructions but to no avail. So I decided to try again: in a few days, when things slowed down. They haven't. They didn't. In frustration I asked for help again.

The problem was the same, the response was different. This time they removed the block and everything works.

Except of course that I discovered I haven't posted in over a year. A very good reason for that is that I stopped writing. Again. For a writer, that is not good. Mostly because that makes you not a writer.

My last post was 11 Jun 2014, 9 days past my self proclaimed year without wearing a tie. My last bit of writing was 11 Jun 2014. I even stopped keeping track of the airplane flights I was taking (I think I ended up spending close to 6 days in the air over the course of 16 months).

Is that about to change? Maybe, maybe not. I need things to slow down first.

Perspectives

Four men were traveling down the road and one thankful for what he had said,'"I thank God that he blessed me with a nice vehicle to drive from my big house to my prestigious job." The next man, thinking his friend was too specific said, "I thank God that he blessed me with the ability to drive from a home he provided to a job he gave me." The third man said, "I thank God he blessed me by keeping me on this side of the grass, so I can see the beautiful world around me." The last guy said, "I thank God that one day I will stop breathing and see the world of heaven."

The men were not trying to outdo one another. They were not trying to Pharisee-like seem more pious or humble. Each man truly felt thankful for his life from the perspective he chose to mention. None of the men were wrong yet each of them clearly show the intention of their hearts.

What we are thankful for is a revelation of what we hold dear. What we thank God for is a revelation of what we believe we get from Him. What we thank God for is an indication of what we take for granted or rather what we perceive that we bring to the table. It shows where we think the line is between man and God.

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Slippery Slope

Recently my oldest child "found" my blog. She stumbled upon it because in trying to get her to share some of her writing with me she commented that she had never seen any of my writings. Since I started this blog to write and set it up (I thought) to make it so that any subscribers could get my novella to read, it was logical that I would share this with her. Through that process I found a few items of interest.

First off, I found out that despite the fact I had fixed it previously, my subscription link STILL didn't work right. I think that I fixed that now, though I need someone to subscribe and try it out because clearly I'm not the one to test it.

The second thing I learned was that while blogs about my middle daughter quite The Frequently posted type, my eldest was left out in the cold. More often I referred to "all my kids" instead of her alone. She is talented in her own right: musically, dramatically, and she's pretty quick with a literary quip like her old man, too. I haven't completely read anything she's written yet because after she read my novella she told me it was good and comparatively hers isn't so she doesn't want to share her work with me.

As always, getting me pondering a subject becomes a slippery slope that delves into the heart of matters that seem completely unrelated unless you are inside my head. It is rare, but I have had folks tell me they would love to be inside my head even when I tell them there are times I wish I wasn't. However, as with most posts here, my goal is to connect the dots to reveal rather than a simple stream of consciousness. M's offhanded comments began a digression.

For those that know I apologize for re-telling, but my novella is an allegory. The subject of the allegory is extremely clear from the start, but the heavy symbolism and metaphors are not all so cut and dried. In fact, many no one would get unless they were inside my head. For instance, the Bradford Arms is named for the preacher who baptised me and is a modification of a line I heard from an episode of Sanford and Son. Why I chose Redd Fox as a source can only be described in stream of consciousness so we'll let that lay. Even the reason I picked the name of one of my lead characters has a hidden meaning but it would be disingenuous to describe why I selected his name. Said name being one that is never fully revealed in the course of the story for yet another streaming reason.

In finishing the work I was glad to have finished it. Revising it was fun--at first. Once I had it "polished" and shared it with someone I realized how unpolished it was. Three editorial revisions later than I thought and then it was done (Edee would get the reason for this sentence). Now, I was proud of the work. I added a few more formatting flourishes and thought I was King of the Allegory. Then I got into a class studying Pilgrim's Progress. Having read the Pilgrim's Regress I thought I was prepared. I learned two things: 1. C.S. Lewis did a great job allegorizing John Bunyan's allegory, and 2. My own allegory was not even a shadow of literature compared to either of those works.

After a few weeks of contemplation I realized my error. While I had polished, Bunyan had nothing but time on his hands in jail to put layers of polish onto his work. Recalling the delight as my work flowed through me to the keyboard I wondered in awe at what it would have been like with quill and ink to pen such a work. The pages and pages of rewrites he must have undergone. Comparing our two works was like reviewing a first grader's Mother's Day card to a work in the Louvre and I quit doing it.

Back in July of 2011 our preacher had gone on a trip and had a stand-in who preached about a passage from John 6:26-40. The crowd that was following Jesus didn't want him, they came for the signs. They sought Jesus as the ends not the means. My oldest child (Remember Alice? This is a song about Alice), is looking for her use as an ends not as a means. When I use someone like my children in my literary musings they are typically means and not ends. The posts are not about them but rather through them. Being used as a subject is prideful but as a delivery vehicle (or as a purpose) is more delicate and difficult. Do not confuse or overlook the two. The first is intimately easier, and the later takes a skill that I hope to one day hone so that everyone who reads this gets the connections.

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Well, The Frequently quip is a cheap plug at saying 6 June at the Bottletree Cafe even though my contribution won't be singing, and the Alice's Restaurant connection is admittedly a little out there.

Traffic and Marriage

Two days ago my normal drive home from work was extraordinarily atypical. The first hour was just like the first hour, but the last half hour took an hour and forty-five minutes. Traffic is an annoyance from time to time, but the day before yesterday was not only the worst but also one of the few (maybe four) times I've had to deal with bad traffic since our recent move last May. While it would be easy to just be mad about the stop and go traffic or be frustrated because I never saw a wreck, police car, or other reason for why traffic on both I-10 or the parallel and within sight Highway 90 across Mobile Bay was so congested I took it all in stride. This morning however, was a different matter. The drive this morning was uneventful. The moon was incredibly brilliant even after the sun rose. The traffic flowed nicely without too many of the morons in the stream. A tangent here would be to remind you that people driving slower than you are idiots and faster than you are morons and a common Southern driver trait is to make idiots of as many morons as possible. So it wasn't this morning's traffic that caused a difference. It was ruminating on yesterday's drive that made things interesting.

On the way home I spoke with a good friend about some issues he is going through, one of which is a severe test to his marriage. While he was far from the traffic mess I was in, it was his situation as well as two other friends in similar marital straits that got me thinking about the traffic.

From time to time in my life I've had a broken down vehicle. Whether stopped on the side of the road, in the middle of an intersection, malfunctioning lights, gauges, low on gas, any number of things that caused me to be a hinderance to traffic. As a result I try to be more understanding of someone who may be in a similar situation. Along that vein, this morning I began to think that there may well have been an individual stuck in the traffic that took three times as long to get where they were going and where they were going could have been a rendezvous for an extramarital affair.

I would happily sit for an extra 45 minutes in traffic to save one more marriage, would you?

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Spoke too Soon

Yesterday's post was way too early, because last night I saw this link to an article about a bill passed by one of the houses of Mississippi's legislature. I am American by birth and Southern by the Grace of God. I love our deep-seeded (and deep-seated) history of state rights. It IS after all Constitutional by the 10th Amendment. However, this makes me say WTallcapitallettersF! Affirming your right to eat 20 Big Macs? It annoys me when people assume that Southern states are stupid, slow, or behind on things. Chris Rock once said the only thing worse than Spike Lee is Spike Lee when he's right. Similar situation here. At least this article is a farce.

Well, I still have hope in the Senate side of the legislature. I'm sure they'll add the proviso that ordering over 15 Big Macs will require the purchase of a Diet Coke.

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What in the World?

I have seen two things this morning that just makes me wonder what in the world is going on. The first was an ad for an anti-perspirant that is for people with low-testosterone. OK, seems a little odd but the wonder came from the disclaimer information at the bottom of the screen that said it is possibly an addictive medication. Are they expecting people to put on deodorant all day multiple times a day? Is it like steroids? While looking at the fine print of the commercial I noticed a blurb crawling across the bottom saying that free-style snowmobiling has been canceled in the X-Games. I don't watch the sport, but I've seen it on televisions in sports restaurants. It seems that the safety of the competitors is in question. Really? Who would ever think it is possible to safely take a snowmobile and do a loop-the-loop? It's not a matter of putting on a helmet or a seatbelt. These guys take a machine with every safety feature and protective panel as a motorcycle, launch it into the air upside down, with no hands, or any other method of grandstanding and showboating, and some sanctioning agency is looking to make it safe? What's next, will they be trying to figure out how to safely play Marco Polo with an alligator in a tank of piranhas?

Next thing you're going to tell me is that someone wants government to be effective.

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Where'd Who Go?

Out of all the reading I've read on writing one thing is incredibly consistent: In order to write, you must read. Over the course of the last few months I have consistently blogged less and less. I have attributed this to increased duties at work, at home, worrying about how to fix this, that or the other. In reality, I haven't read much of anything. I haven't even listened to many books on tape (or CD or mp3). It isn't just that I haven't had many thoughts to blog about, I haven't worked on my work in progress much over the course of the last year. If you recall, that's the year that I set the goal of finishing my WIP, which I am awfully close to but I've been awfully close to that point since last year at this same exact time.

About a month ago I commented on the fact that the only television shows I watch any more (other than NFL football) are only 30 minutes long. This of course means there is 21 minutes of program and 9 minutes of commercials I fast forward through because I LONG ago got to the point where I could barely watch television without recording it on my TiVO (or now DVR). Yes, this does make some football games interminably long as well since more often than not I don't record them.

Along this same line, I picked up a Christmas gift of short stories a few days ago. I'm not very far into it when I did my other normal reading habit--reading more than one book at a time. So now, after a holiday I am listening to a book on tape, reading a book of short stories, reading a non-fiction book, and my brain instantly began stewing in the thoughts that abound and cause successful writers to warn prospective writers that they cannot write without reading.

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Perspective

Growing up in the South was wonderful for many reasons, one of which is the independent feeling that we gain from the freedom of being able to drive wherever we want to. As a result, many Southern metropolis areas have a driver to vehicle ratio of 0.95. For my part I got my license at the age of 15, the same age my oldest child is now and the thought of her driving is not one I enjoy though I am thankful that the age has been raised to 16. Over the course of my driving, I have spent time staring at many things. Sometimes it's the road in front of me, sometimes it's the mirror showing the road (or the policeman, or the poorly tied down load I'm hauling, or the car that's following me, etc.), sometimes it is something inside the vehicle that attracts all the attention. At least the first 5 years of my driving I was done in vehicles that had seen better days. Some had bad water pumps, bad batteries, bad alternators, bad starters, bad heaters, faulty gauges, flat tires, a shot muffler, and low oil pressure. A few vehicles only had one or two of those problems going on at the same time.

Given a choice, I prefer to drive vehicles with full instrumentation rather than just idiot lights. Always take an oil pressure gauge over a light that only comes on when the engine is about to blow. At least one vehicle I owned blew an engine because the idiot light telling me I had a temperature problem was not bright enough to be seen on a sunny, Southern spring day. The fact that the air conditioner didn't work, it was 90 degrees out, both windows were down, and I made it from Mobile to Biloxi in less than 25 minutes had nothing to do with the light being seen though they may have had everything to do with the water pump going out in the first place.

The drawback to full gauges is that when you know there is a problem you tend to focus on that gauge. I can't count the number of times I paid more attention to the temperature gauge than the road. Or the oil pressure gauge. Or the even now common fuel gauge.

What is it about our fuel tank that we count mileage when we get low. I can make it 10 more miles. There's a gas station that's 2 cents cheaper per gallon 15 miles down the road. I'll be late for church if I stop to fill up on the way. If I stop after church the Methodists will beat me to the restaurant. Rarely do we factor in the time, effort, or money it will cost us to run out of gas before we make it to where we're going. We do however, think that every traffic light takes too long to give us the green when we are within sight of that 2 cent cheaper station. 

Is this a reason why there are more people of an older age in church then there are younger? And I'm not referring to youth or babies so much as teen-aged and twenty year olds. Do we try harder to attend church, read the bible, act more Christ-like because our eyes have been taken off of the road and we're staring at our own Christianity meter?

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The Odd Political Post

My blog description indicates that I blog on Providence with an occasional political comment. While there continues to be Providence galore, this morning I was thinking of things political. Over the course of our twenty years of marriage, my wife and I have had spirited debates on issues related to politics. It began with a mention of my political leanings. Like most engineers I tend toward the conservative side. To be fair, some engineers are only conservative when it comes to their designs and not their politics so maybe my conservatism comes from years of living in the Deep South, my proximity to the buckle of the Bible Belt, the fact that I have lived most of my life in States that just plain vote for conservatives, blame on what you will. I choose my profession.

Early on when I would mention that I am a Republican it would IMMEDIATELY elicit the response, "So you're against Unions?" After a few years I was able to actually talk politics without talking unions (since they ARE separate topics), though I still shy away from it with my in-laws for similar reasons. My father-in-law worked for 30 years at a job in a union, and wouldn't have any of the things he has without the union (little things like legs and arms as well as big things like pension). He also wouldn't have been there 3 decades without their protection. He also may have gotten promoted rather than staying behind the guy who came in a few weeks before him. He also probably wouldn't have been as safe at his job and we certainly wouldn't have had as many Safety Award umbrellas, flashlights, wallets, etc. There's good, there's bad, and there's ugly all wrapped up in the issue.

Here's the thing though, just like saying I'm a Republican doesn't mean I'm against Unions, saying that the Unions have contributed to the mess is not a support of the business decision makers. In a finger-pointing match it is clear that there is not now, nor has there ever been any business morality. No one goes into business for a reason other than to make money. They may say it is to improve the quality of (fill in the blank), but underlying that it is a desire to make a profit. It doesn't have to be an ungodly profit, but no one says, "I'm going to start a business and pour money into it until I'm destitute and living in a van down by the river." The fact that the actions of Unions has caused businesses to make decisions to close or move or relocate to a foreign country is important, it is a reality, but underlying that, the Union didn't come in and make demands for a company that takes care of its people to complete burdensome additional compensation. I say this based predominantly on the fact that if the workers were satisfied and happy with their conditions they would not choose to join a Union because it would not benefit them. If management responded to the needs of the workers the workers would not need a consolidated voice to speak for them and play hardball.

That was a bit more of an introduction to the topic du jour then I first thought.

The news of last week that Hostess is going out of business is appalling. Orange Cupcakes are simply a God-given delicacy that none have been able to duplicate. If you doubt me for one instance, go buy all the Hostess Orange Cupcakes you can. Send them all to me, save one. After you have sent them, eat the remaining cupcakes. If you do not contemplate shooting out the tires of the vehicle that drove off with your package to me I will pay you for the cupcakes. If you do, I'm not responsible for your actions in trying to get the cupcakes back.

Hostess's management has claimed that the Union strike upset their razor-thin grasp on solvency. A claim that the Union denies pointing to a massive compensation and pay raise given to executives. Here's the thing: They are both complicit in eliminating the institution of higher munchies that is/was Hostess. The executives were wrong to receive the pay raise and should have taken a pay cut. The workers likewise were wrong for not accepting a pay cut to keep a job. Now how big those cuts should have been is the matter. I will not argue that they should be the same size. There is no across the board pay cut to be had here. To cut executive pay and hourly rate workers the same would be insane to say the least. To give executives the massive pay raises they did was more insane. A step above on the insanity meter was the company's defense of said raises.

Perhaps it is legal to give executives a raise even in the face of bankruptcy. That's a consequence of having rich legislators making the laws. However, converting performance-based bonuses to regular compensation is a sign that the performance-based bonus will not be earned. A bonus is not regular compensation, it's a bonus. If you aren't performing, you aren't earning. If your company is going bankrupt, you aren't performing. If your company is going bankrupt, getting more money for poorly managing will only speed up the slide rather than slow it down. Sure, it may keep some employees from jumping ship and those executives that would jump ship are the ones that could get a job somewhere else (not the dead weight that should be cut in order to stop hemorrhaging money), but that goes back to business morals.

Going on strike to demand more money from a company on thin ice financially is a sure-fire way to crack the ice. Who was wrong first? The company. Who was wrong last? The Union. Who is out of a job? All of them. And I'm out of Orange Cupcakes!

So, what's the bottom line in all of this? The bottom line is that it is insanity on the part of all involved that a company that makes Twinkies, cupcakes, fruit pies, and some of the most delectable things that are bad for you is going bankrupt. Not just because of the obesity rate in America, either. It is unfathomable that a company that has helped add to the bottom line of the heaviest generation can't cut it. It is insanity not only because of that but because of the fact that marijuana has been "legalized" in more States. There is almost certainly an upturn in sales coming!

Hang in there, Hostess.

Hostess Pay Raises

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An update from 2018:

I'm no longer a Republican. I can't bring myself to be labeled one any more. I'm also not a Democrat either. I am a small L libertarian. Small L because they won't let you in the party unless you believe their mantra that Taxation is Theft. It isn't. It's just a way for the government to pay the bills.

More importantly, I have since done even more thinking on the subject (6 years will do that to you) and it isn't just the Unions and Management's reaction to them that's caused the problems but a general lack of tariffs in the US. Not that I believe President Trump is re-instituting them right, but it is right to re-institute them. There's probably a whole post on this I'll save for later. For now I'll get back to fixing the website.

Veteran's Day

In the last two weeks I've found myself so busy that even my busy explanation needs explaining. Maybe I should just simplify since that would take less time to communicate. And yes, even though it would take me time to come up with a simpler explanation in the long run this would save time but I'm just ecstatic about saying that I'm so busy I don't know if I lost a horse or found a rope. Anyway, a week before Veteran's Day I passed some folks from the Disabled Vets of America passing out imitation forget-me-nots and as a disabled vet I stopped to talk to them. As I've mentioned before, I am proud to be a disabled vet but feel ashamed when someone thanks me for my service. I feel that we should be really thank those who deployed. I served between the two Gulf Wars and the one time my unit completely deployed they didn't take the Field Artillery battery (which yes means they didn't fully deploy). I thanked them for their service and mentioned that to them. The gentleman I spoke with corrected me for my attitude. He thanked me and said that my generation had a choice, his generation were told to go. As hard as I try to think outside the box and be unconventional, sometimes my thinking is still one-dimensional and flat.

Regardless, I hope you had a good Veteran's Day and even though it has now passed thank the next veteran you see. Let them know you appreciate their effort whether it was voluntary or involuntary.

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JFK said it

No matter what your political preference, get out and vote. No matter who you choose, get out and vote. No matter if you choose to not even select a candidate but turn in an empty ballot, get out and vote. It's a dumb rule, but it's my dumb rule: If you don't vote, you can't complain about the knuckleheads in charge.

If the video doesn't come in right in either the RSS feed or the email, go online and watch it. It only takes a minute. And while I normally include things in order to get you to read something else into my message, don't read anything in to the fact that I selected not only a Democrat but the Democrat that to me symbolizes the complete switch of the Democratic Party to the left side of the aisle.

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Smart

Over the course of the last 4 months driving a Smart Car I have learned a few important things. First of all, everyone is going to look at you. The friend who owned one and showed me the wisdom of owning one described it as "now you know how a hot chic feels" which is accurate. Insensitive perhaps, but accurate. Another friend theorized that since more often than not Smarts are driven by good-looking women the reason everyone looks is to see the driver. This is not accurate for a few reasons, one is of course that good-looking women look, too. The other is that almost every time I come out of a store to get back into my car there is someone looking at the driverless vehicle. A side note to this is that I feel like I need to keep the car washed and waxed. I've never seen a Corvette, a Porsche, or even a BMW that was covered in bugs and road tar. People have expectations of vehicles and drivers do, too.

You have to have thick skin to drive a Smart Car. Everyone has a joke for you. How many hamsters under the hood? What do you do when the wind blows? Oh, there's an engine? I thought you just poked your feet through the floor. Of course the best way is to joke back. Cutting them off by telling them the joke they've come up with serves two purposes. One it tells them you have heard it before (saving you the discomfort of hearing it again), and two it tells them that you, too, can understand the need to comment about something so different (and foreign) to what we all have.

One thing about joking back is that none of the jokers think it to funny when I tell them I "only" get about 40 miles to the gallon. I saw a Consumer Reports list which had 8 cars listed as getting better gas mileage. Those 8, as well as the next 2 below the Smart, had one thing in common--they were either all-electric or hybrid. There is no better mileage from a straight gas burning vehicle according to their list.

Being different always has its difficulties. You stick out, people make fun of you, but it has its advantages, too. Maybe my wallet isn't as fat as it could be or even fatter than most, but it's certainly fatter than it could be. Maybe the tank isn't as big as some, maybe some tanks are as big as the car, but it goes further on that tank than anyone else.

As usual, it's not about the car.

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Book Revivals

I suppose I have gotten used to waking early and driving a long way to work because for the last week I've been making a much shorter drive to attend a training class, which I have been very early for. This morning I took a short walk through the downtown area. The main purpose was to purchase some breakfast from Mostly Muffins, but the waking up of a city is an enjoyable experience. To hear the pressure washers on the sidewalk, delivery trucks unloading, City employees setting up bleachers for an event later in the day, and seeing the twilight-like glow of sunshine reflecting off canopies and trees are wonderful images of the downtown area.

Two doors from Mostly Muffins, which wasn't open yet, is Bienville Books. I love the alliteration, but it really reminds me that I have never figured out how Bienville could be D'Iberville's brother as much as it stirs my love of literature. The store has a setback door with windows to either side as do many of the downtown stores. In this one are many books about Halloween subjects, Frankenstein, Dracula, books on ghosts in Mobile, a t-shirt that says "I read dead people" and more. Interspersed with that were several science fiction titles, some old, some not. Robert Heinlein, Ursala K. LeGuin, Douglas Adams and more that stirred me as did the waking of Mobile.

I returned to peruse the window again, this time with muffin in hand, and contemplated the rejuvenated feeling I had for my own science fiction work in progress and reminded myself that just like a walk through the display of a book store can rekindle our love and desire for a topic, so can attending a church service.

Revivals don't always have to be on a grand scale with a gospel choir and a tent. Sometimes they are no less effective if they happen as a matter of every day events.

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Flossing

How often do our children see us floss? I'm betting it's rarely. Mostly I suspect it's rare because we don't floss as often as we should, but even brushing our teeth is something we probably do at a time that our children are doing something else. In my case, sleeping since I do it early in the morning. Even still, I don't floss as often as I could. Once I Asked my old dentist if he flossed. His response was that he always flossed--before his own dental appointments. Ever since I have rested easy knowing that I floss more than my dentist. But still not in front of my children very often.

Our children imitate what we do. Whether they want to admit it or not. They do the things we do, because we train them that way. Yet we still don't tend to show them our own oral hygiene practices. We do, however, get annoyed when the dentist tells us what the needed repairs will cost for braces, fillings, and other work.

Now, go back and substitute pray and read the bible for flossing or teeth brushing.

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Principles

Back when I first attended college and neglected to actually pay attention to my academic career I ran out of money and dropped out. My wife and I got married, and I joined the Army. I did this for 2 reasons. The first is that I had always wanted to be in the Corps of Engineers. Even longer than I wanted to be an engineer,  I wanted to be in the Corps. The second reason is that my whole life I had insulted Air Force personnel, it was just something that native Biloxians did. Even at the tender age of 20 I had to stand up to what I had been preaching albeit it a stupid thing to stand up for. As I was driving to work this morning I had the top down on my car. I do this each morning and afternoon until I get to the interstate. Even before I could drive I would see people who owned convertibles driving down the road with their tops up and thought that was dumb. What is the point of buying a convertible if you're just going to drive around like everyone without a removable top. I stand by this thought, albeit as dumb as the first. Perhaps dumber, since it was 53 degrees Fahrenheit this morning and I had on a jacket with the heater going.

I am not an apologist. I have read several apologetics, but for the most part when I do read them it only cements my decision, my faith, and my resolve that I am making the right choice in my steadfast belief in God. Several posts to this blog concerning evolution versus creationism are written with the preface that they are not intended to be read (or dissected) by someone who does not have similar beliefs in God in particular but Christianity in general. It is too easy to dive off into the apologetic arguments surrounding religion rather than the intended topic.

Do these two things have a common thread? Is my desire to be a believing and practicing Christian follower of God by non-desire to be an apologist ready to convince any agnostic or atheistic people in my presence as stupid as the desire to not join the service I had insulted because I followed those around me or the fact that I was cold simply to not be one of those idiots? In keeping from being an idiot, have I become a moron?

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Bad Navigation

Today is Columbus Day (Observed). We wanted to honor the day that Columbus "discovered" America, but we only want to do it on a day that's convenient for us. And saying that phrase is a convoluted twist of words. Columbus didn't first spot land, he wasn't looking for a new continent, it wasn't named America until years later, and as for discovery, he merely ran the mission that revealed it to the western culture in Europe of the mid-15th century. Perhaps that makes it the perfect holiday to celebrate today. Christopher Columbus wasn't his real name, it's the name we chose to give him. Cristoforo Colombo was born in Genoa, a city that does not predominantly speak English where we renamed Cristoforo. Not only did he not "discover" a new world, rather he revealed it to the travelling parts of the world, but he cheated the guy who first spotted it out of the reward. A guy not named Chris found a world that wasn't lost, and has that day celebrated on the second Monday of the month he discovered it. The only thing more confusing about that would be to factor in the Gregorian to Julian calendar shift of the 18th century that corrected for leap years.

Another October occurrence is The Simpsons Treehouse of Horror, not that I watch The Simpsons, not that I watch the annual Treehouse of Horror, and not that the TOH always airs in October. Last night as I watched it, reminding myself of why I don't let my children watch The Simpsons, Ned Flanders had a line that struck me as funny. In typical fashion, it stuck me odd not in the manner in which it was intended. Ned was saying this snippet in a manner that is demeaning to Christianity, but he mentioned the Bible written in the language God originally intended. Said language being English.

There are those that believe that if you aren't reading the King James version of the Bible you aren't really reading the Bible, presumably Flanders is one. Focusing on just the words of the message often makes us miss the message. The context is important, the content of the message is important, but more important than either is the message itself. What the message stands for, what it means, what it refers to, the intent of the concept being relayed is the point of all communications.

Happy Columbus Day (from a guy who writes with a literary voice).

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Posted at 1012

Source for "facts" on Chris

Anticipatience

The title of this is a made up word from Kevin Kaiser's newly released ebook @WriMo: A 30-Day Survival Guide for Writers. It is a short read with big goals. The purpose is to encourage writers who enter the National Novel Writing Month marathon that starts 1 November to not only begin, but finish. A herculean task if you've ever tried it. Anticipatience, is a word that Kevin made up that exactly describes the quality you will need to complete the race before you in writing a 50,000 word novel in one month. And he mentions it at the point where you need more than just platitudes and cute quotes to keep going. The entire book is full of just what you need, right when you need it. The format is such that you can read the whole book in one sitting, but it is better to read each day as it comes starting with 30 Days and ending with 1 Day. Each section starts with the number of days remaining, shares an inspiring (or appropriate) quote, then gets to the heart of what you need to gut it out and finish. It isn't enough by itself to get you to do it, but if you have the desire it can aid you along the way.

All proceeds from the sale of the book go to support the future of NaNoWriMo and other writing programs except one. The one thing that can come from the book that doesn't will be your work, your story, and mine. Will I be able to complete it using this book? Ask me on 1 December. Better yet, ask me when you hit the point you need anticipatience and I'll ask you on 1 December.

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