Cowboy Blob's Saloon and Shootin Gallery

I'm not a real Cowboy, but I play one in the movies.

Thursday, September 30, 2004

Kinder, Cuddlier USAF

From Evil Pundit: "'literary bag' Margaret Drabble, is upset because some American warplanes have 'grinning cartoon faces painted on their noses ... with big sharp teeth.' In an effort to alleviate the distress of such sensitive souls, I propose the use of kinder, gentler nose art featuring fluffy bunnies."

Personally, I think he's sucking up to Senator Edwards.

h/t to Tim Blair

View from the Hummer Hi Res

Click to enlarge.
Big appetite spoiler, that is.

Wednesday, September 29, 2004

Match Update ==> Yaaarrrggghhh!

The league posted the scores and half of my pistol scores were blanked with zeroes. I didn't have any catastrophic stoppages, so I suspect they lost my score sheets or something. We were the only two to do the whole 3-Gun thang. I hope cooler temperatures will bring out more competition.

A Thing of Beauty

Thank you, Blogs of War.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Hostage Rescue, Chinese Style

BMEWS has a great pictorial of a hostage situation in China. Not much detail to the story, but the perp could be in the running for a Darwin Award.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Murphy was an Aviator

From the "Gremlin's Castle" to "Bat 21" to the shot-down Stealth Fighter pilot I was privileged to meet, the history of American military aviation is rife with near misses, miracles, and wonders of teamwork. Add to these the story of Lt. Keith Gallagher, Bombadier/Navigator of the KA-6D tanker that barely returned to the USS Abraham Lincoln in 1991. Read the story yourself.

Back on the Range

After laying low with allergies for almost a month, I finally made it out to the range yesterday. (It wasn't for Neanderpundit's Postal Match, but I'll have to try the next one.) There was a reasonable turnout for the Cactus Match and I arrived feeling lousy (trying to stay hydrated while fighting a nervous stomach). Jon and I made good time through the stages, avoiding the crowded ones. For lacking practice, I did well, even beating Jon in two pistol stages (he's B class, I'm C). Shot the match clean with no major malfunctions; we could have made a Glock commercial.

The riotgun stage was a blast! There's few things more fun than blazing down steel with a shotgun a fast as you can! I had a miss, but made a clean speedload and ended with an empty gun. Jon beat me despite having to reload by hand.

We saved the carbine stage for last, lotsa lateral movement to shoot when targets become visible. Of course, for these I usually fail to engage a target, and this was no exception. Jon greased through cleanly with no misses. Won't know til they post the scores how well we did, match-wise, but fewer people have been bringing their long-guns lately, so we might have been our only competition.

I won't be posting a stage by stage description of every match I attend, but after being away for a while, I felt the need to share. Looking forward to next month's match already!


Friday, September 24, 2004


James at Hell in a Handbasket has a great essay on self-defense options. Maybe he'll tell us later how his encounter with three shadowy punks turned out.

Thursday, September 23, 2004

Gratuitous Gun Cake (apologies to Castle Argghhh)

Long before I bought my first AR, I was stationed in West Texas, and joined the Gun-of-the-Month Club. No, that's not a formal organization, but with the frequency of good gun shows, and the quality stores in San being a single NCO...I started accruing quite a collection. The Daewoo K1 started showing up in the hands of our Korean allies on my second tour there, so that definitely got me interested. It's a fun gun, but the wire stock puts a little spring into the welded shooting position. Then came the import restrictions and the AWB. I could have made a profit on it, but it's way much more cool to have.

Don't Give Up on Az, Baby...

The Kerry campaign is pulling advertising in Arizona, Arkansas, Louisiana, and Missouri to fund ads in battleground states they think they have a chance of winning. Reminds me of the Dom Herrera schtick when he finds out his childhood parish priest was recently convicted of child molesting. "What, I wasn't good enough for you, Father?"

What put him off? We've got a Democrat governor (who's got more balls than he does...and I mean that in the nicest way, Janet) and a Senator who's his best friend in the Senate (next to the Bloated Red One). We've lots of senior citizens to scare (though many of them out-shoot me at the range) and he can pander to lots of minorities here...but many of them are business owners he'd like to tax out of existence. But wait, we've got lots of miltary folk, and retired vets living here, many of whom knew he was in Viet Nam before his campaign run. Wait, John, come back! Spend your money here, John!

h/t to Lt. Smash
h/t to Wizbang
s/o to BMEWS

State Flag Has 2nd Amendment Roots

Did you know the Arizona State Flag was designed in 1910 for the Arizona (Territory) Rifle Team to fly at the Camp Perry national championships? It wasn't offically adopted until 1917.

Source: Universary of Arizona College of Agriculture and Life Sciences.

Kill or Die....

Say Uncle has an excellent essay on the harsh realities of abduction, either criminal or terrorist. Once you're in the car trunk, your choices have been narrowed to nil. "Lefty" or "Achmed" most certainly don't have a copy of the Geneva Conventions handy.


I've worked in a lot of offices that seemed like zoos, but a military base? Castle Argghhh! (a daily read for me) has a story with a fowl plot.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

My Korean Fix

Every day I visit the Marmot's Hole for my fix on Korean current events. Who knew I'd get a history lesson as a bonus?

Oh, yeah, I'm functionally fluent in Korean and spent almost 7 years there during my USAF career.

"Where's My Tommy Gun?"

If it were only a petting zoo.

Cap, Gown, and Pajamas

Cranky Neocon is offering higher education for bloggers to increase their credibility. They even offer some evaluation:

Question 1
Select the statement that best presents this fact:60% of Americans express
confidence that the economy is improving.
1. 60% of Americans express confidence that the economy is improving.
2. 30% of Americans have "little or no" confidence in the American economic "recovery."
3. Noted economist Paul Krugman calls "recovery" a "sham."

The correct answer is 2. Always look for the story behind the story. Extra points are awarded for putting quotes around "recovery." Answer 3 is excellent but should be saved for our Editorial department.

It was a Dark and Bloggy Night

Iowahawk puts on his raincoat and fedora and investigates:

Excerpts from the new Inspector Dan Rather Mystery by David Burge:

It was a slow September night in Manhattan. The kind of sweaty summer night where the mean streets of Gotham run wild with the shadowy scum of the Republican National Convention. The kind of night where mysteries are born. The kind of night I live for.

My name is Rather. And I’m a dick.

Read the rest.

FLASH! Lucy Ramirez Sighting!

Feces Flinging Monkey has the scoop on the alleged source of the Rather/CBS/Burkett/Mapes forgeries!

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

An Oldie but Goodie

There are several versions of this story on the net, but I wrote this one. It's cool to see it still floating around on the net:

Sam Clam and Bob Lobster grew up together in a small town, attended school together, enlisted in the Army together, settled down in the same small short, Sam Clam and Bob Lobster were lifelong best friends.

Having done everything together their whole lives, it really surprised no one when, in their late 50s, they died of cancer within days of each other. What surprised Bob Lobster is that he showed up at the Pearly Gates of Heaven alone, without his best friend in the whole world.

When he inquired to Saint Peter why Sam Clam was not on the roll called up yonder, Pete replied "Sam Clam had some character flaws that you were too good a friend to notice. Your friend, Sam Clam, is in Hell."

Well, Bob Lobster was just crushed. This just wouldn't be Heaven without his best friend, Sam Clam! He moped around the alabaster cloud-castles of Heaven with his harp, unplayed, under his arm. The pastoral scenes of peaceful landscapes, people living together in harmony, and the awe-inspiring choruses of angels went unnoticed by Bob Lobster, who could only lament the absence of Sam Clam.

As Bob Lobster sat wallowing in self-pity on a set of marble steps, he was approached by a man whose halo lit his long, flowing hair. Bob Lobster could discern ghastly wounds on the man's hands and feet, but the man ignored the wounds, instead, looking at Bob Lobster with eyes full of compassion for his plight. "Why are you not happy here in Heaven, my son? We have beautiful cloud-castles of alabaster to live in...peaceful landscapes to wander, harmony with our brothers and sisters, and heavenly music by my Father's chosen angels to enhance our meditation of His love."

Bob Lobster looked up with tears in his eyes and a tremor in his voice."We use to do everything together, and now, being without him, I can't enjoy Heaven like I should. I feel like I'm burning in Hell."

The Son of God leaned down, put his hand on Bob Lobster's shoulder, and whispered..."Oh, you're that one. I've talked to my Father about you...I think we can do something to may your stay more pleasant. Report to St. Peter tonight after Vespers.

Bob Lobster's face immediate shone with hope...Perhaps Sam Clam would make it to Heaven after all!

After Vespers, Bob Lobster made tracks for St. Peter's post at the Pearly Gates. At the gates, Peter briefed him on the deal: "Sam Clam has been condemned to Hell for Eternity...that we cannot alter, for all the Universe would be undone otherwise. What we can allow is for you to visit your friend, Sam Clam, once!, and thus calm your torment over your separation."

Well, this was better than nothing, and Bob Lobster immediately brightened at the prospect of seeing his lifelong best friend, Sam Clam, even if it was to be only once for all eternity.

St. Peter continued, "Your visit must not exceed 24 earthly hours...and you must remember, do not lose your harp, for without it, you cannot regain entrance into the Kingdom of Heaven!"

Bob Lobster nodded, barely hearing the Saint, thinking of being with his best friend, Sam Clam, again. St. Peter tapped his gnarled staff at Bob Lobster's feet, the cloud-floor parted, letting Bob Lobster plummet terrified through time and space, until he arrived in Hell.

With a PLONK!

Bob Lobster landed on a red satin pillow at the bottom of a rocky shaft and stared out down a dark desert valley to see a bright, bustling city (not unlike Las Vegas). Nowhere did he see oceans of burning pitch, or smell the stench of brimstone.

Bob Lobster ran to the city, half-expecting it to disappear in the shimmer of a mirage, but it was REAL. Short of breath, he approached a towering demon-figure who was standing in a street intersection, directing traffic around the collision.

"MOVE ALONG!" he boomed, until he saw the harp and softened..."Sorry, what can I do for you, sir?"

"I'm here on a short visit, looking for my best friend, Sam Clam..."

"Ah, yes, Sam Clam...interesting case. Anyway, head down the Troppicana there for about three hundred yards and go into the discotheque."

Bob Lobster immediately followed these directions and strode into the disco, dazzled by the flashing strobe lights, loud music, and the throng of dancing bodies.

"This is Hell?" he thought. The dancers ranged from their teens to their 50s, each fashionably attired, if a little daringly showing off their best physical attributes, after wandering around confused, Bob Lobster was grabbed by a pair of strong hands.

Before him stood his best friend, SAM CLAM! He was decked out on a tasteful suit, bedecked with gold chains (not so tasteful), coiffed with a salon hairstyle, and wearing an expensive watch.

"Bob Lobster! Welcome to my club! I wondered if I'd ever see you again! Let's go to a back room so we can's kinda loud in here! By the way, nice harp!"

Bob Lobster spilled out the story explaining the circumstances of his visit to Hell and his subsequent puzzlement over the lack of fire, brimstone, and pitchfork-wielding devils.

Sam Clam explained "Well, sure, there's that here, but that's only during 9-to-5 daylight hours. But you can't run an economy based on eternal torment. So after hours, we all help turn this place into a profit-making operation. Me? I manage this nightclub, tend bar now and then, and occasionally join the Chippendale dance line during Ladies Night. It's a change from wading waist-deep in burning pitch, for sure, and helped me lose that 'spare tire' I'd developed after retiring from the Army."

They talked long into the night, then Sam Clam invited Bob Lobster to come with him to "work" in the morning. After seeing his best friend slog around in a pool of burning pitch, poked by pole-armed devils, Bob Lobster decided that Heaven was a much better place, but he still had time remaining with his best friend, Sam Clam, and he vowed to enjoy it to its fullest after "duty" hours.

That night, they returned to the disco, where Sam Clam introduced Bob Lobster to his staff, best friends, and regular customers. They occasionally joined the throng long into the night on the dance floor, and Bob Lobster, bedecked in his snow-white robes, was an immediate hit with the scantily clad women, bumping and grinding against him with wild abandon.

Of course, Bob Lobster couldn't do this encumbered with the harp, so one of Sam Clam's beefy bouncers stood menacingly over the instrument, guaranteeing no one would try to steal it.

It was a great shock to Bob Lobster when he heard and felt a great bell chiming, his 24 hours were almost up! He hadn't been paying attention to the time, and now he risked being stranded in Hell!

He ran out of the club, out of town and headed for the rocky cleft that led to Heaven. He scrambled up the shaft, scraping his knees, hands, and feet on the sharp rock that led upward, all the while reverberating to the chimes ringing through his body.

Bloody, out of breathe, and with only one chime remaining, he reached the Pearly Gates."St. Peter! Let me in! It's me, Bob Lobster!"

Saint Peter looked at Bob Lobster up and down as the last chime sounded.

"Aren't we missing something?"

Bob Lobster patted himself down, panicking and he cried out in anguish

"I left my harp in Sam Clam's Disco!"

Cowboy Bloggers Roundup

Just mosied over to No Pundit Intended, who's got a separate blogroll for cowboy blogs. Is this a cowboy blog? I'm of two minds about it, as evidenced here. (Need Flash Player). I made that little thing for IMAO's Peace Gallery, but Frank J. seems to be too busy to post it. Hey, at least he's writing.

Monday, September 20, 2004

Speaking of Swabbies

I hadn't spent much of my career in the real Air Force. Some of my assignments were to joint assignments where I got to work along side our sister services, and our Mother service, the Army. Army officers have the same ranks and titles as USAF officers, but the Navy is completely different. What follows is the primer, Explaining US Navy Ranks and Titles.

Navy officers wear stripes on their coat sleeves:
One stripe = an Ensign. An ensign is the flag they used to hang off the stern of a ship of the line. Since this is the entry-level officer rank, you can imagine how these goofy teenagers get hung off the aft railings by their ankles. Hazing has a rich tradition in the USN.

Two stripes = a Lieutenant. The word literally means "underling." Lieutenants are at the rank where they are finally allowed some responsibilty, like commanding small boats or hanging ensigns off the stern of the ship.

Three stripes, and you're out. But seriously, you're a Commander. This word should be self-explanatory, but, trust me, it's confusing.

Four stripers are Captains, who have lots more responsibility and prestige than Army and Air Force Captains. You'd think so, being at the fourth rank while land-lubber captains only hold the pay grade O-3, right? Well, Navy Captains are actually O-6s! The two missing pay grades are apprenticeship grades for Lieutenant and Commander. These guys are identified by having a skinnier stripe on their sleeves. A Commander with a skinny stripe is called a Lieutenant Commander (or sub-Commander in the Star Trek universe), and a Lieutenant with a skinny stripe is guessed it...Lieutenant (junior grade). Lieutenant Lieutenant would be just wacky!

Now, if you're not confused now, hold on to your dog-dish hat.

The commander of a naval vessel, called "Skipper," may be said to be "captain of the boat/ship" and may be a Lieutenant, Commander, or Captain. So, an O-5 Commander commanding a submarine can be called Commander, Captain, or Skipper.

Do you know what they call an Air Force O-5?

Ferret Blogging

Updated with pix: Spent "Talk Like a Pirate" Day fending off the carpet sharks and cleaning up poop. My two little guys, Lenny (top) and Squiggy (bottom) are already the same size as my departed jill, Gracie, but still as rambunctious as the day they came home with me a couple of months ago. They have the run of my reloading room; they defend my dusty Dillon press from all intruders who fail to give them raisins. They're haphazard about using the litterboxes, but I put down enough newspaper in the likely areas. Squiggy is the cuddly one, except when he's wound up on ferret adrenaline. Lenny is the explorer, the first to climb to the window sill and try to pull down the blinds.

Sunday, September 19, 2004

Shiver Me Timbers!

It's International "Talk Like A Pirate" Day! Buck up, me hearties and join our lusty crew! Yo, ho, ho, and a bottle of Rum, it's a Pirate's life for me! Check out the mates at Barking Moonbat Early Warning System for some fine Pirate Pickup Lines! The booty shot:

If all else fails, knock down a bit more grog and try this:
-- Prepare to be boarded.

Saturday, September 18, 2004

At the Gun Show

Went to the gun show at the Convention Center this afternoon, hoping to find some post-ban bargains. What was I thinking?!? Obviously, the merchants had no intention of slashing prices on inventory, which is undertandable IF they bought the stuff at mid-ban prices. I'm probably joining a lot of folks eagerly waiting for the manufacturers to get the supply going. Sorry, I'm not paying $75 for a pistol magazine again.

Felt a slight twitch around the AR kits...I don't need one, but M-4 clones are so cool. I'd rather get one in 9-mm, but there were none in sight. The only hole in my collection is a reliable .308 battle rifle--something I can shoot in "He-Man Class." Three-Gun doesn't have a "Girley Man Class" (9-mm/.223/20 gauge), thank heavens.

At least I ran into my friend Lisa, the Biker Chick. She was charming some merchant down for a holster and wallet...had that shopper's tunnel vision so I just stood next to her for 2 minutes. Happened last show too. Maybe it's just me.

"A Road Less Graveled"

Blackfive, the Paratrooper of Love, has another jewel from Russ Vaughn, a Vietnam-era paratrooper, poet, and Texan. This time his target is not's Dan Rather, hoisted by his own homespun petard.

The postscript:
P.S. Charlene says to yell you don’t even think about comin’ back to Texas. Way folks out here feel, you’d have to tie a pork chop around your neck just to get a dog to play with you. Well, and maybe Mollie Ivins.
Read the rest.

Friday, September 17, 2004

John Kerry, Commander-in-Chief

Okay, my photoshopping sucks. How about this?

You need the Flash Player to see it...may take a while to load if you're on dial-up.


Got this from the Llama Butchers (see the blogroll).

Which Fantasy/SciFi Character Are You?

Thursday, September 16, 2004

Blogosphere Challenge

I trolled my friends for some content ideas and, naturally, the left-wing lawyer was first to respond. Now's my chance to earn my pajamas.

1. Find the weapons of mass destruction. And the "real killers" from the O.J. case.

a. Syria.
b. OJ.

2. Start a list of people who remember serving with Dubya in the Alabama National Guard.

a. ('s started)

3. Catalog the environmental improvements achieved by the Bush Administration.

a. Deposed the biggest environmental terrorist of the 20th Century, Saddam Hussein

4. Search for a single instance where the competing interests of big business and everyday people clashed, and Bush favored everyday people at the expense of business.

a. Didn't carpet-bomb Iraq, sparing the everyday Iraqi people and delaying Halliburton's timetable for seizing the OOOOIIIILLLLL!!!

5. Explain why what we're doing in Iraq isn't "nation building," since Dubya said during the debates that he didn't favor being involved in that.

a. GWB also said he doesn't like being a war president, but he did it. Such integrity, willing to go against his personal desires, unlike like SOMEBODY we know.

Now's my chance to harness the distributed intelligence of the blogosphere...well, I could if I had any readers...

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Go for the Pictures, Stay for the Writing

Country Store describes the Chris Matthews interview with the slimy Kitty Kelley:

Matthews then asked the most telling question to which he got a devastating admission: "Could you get *anyone* to come forward to say on the record that any of the Bush family broke the law?"

Kelley, abjectly: "No."

Matthews: "It's stunning that you couldn't get one person to go on the record."

Kelley pathetically tried to turn this fatal weakness into a strength: "What you said just demonstrates the power of this family."

I can't get anyone to go on the record saying that Kitty used to do a donkey act in a Tijuana "nightspot". That must show how powerful she is! I guess when the chips are down even the mainstream media gets a tad squeamish about outright balderdash.

Something Funny at Something Awful

For you Star Wars purists out there, something you can laugh at.

American Cowboy and Beer

The folks at Stop the Bleating posted a gem that's been making the Email rounds. The money shot:
The American cowboy, of course, is your basic, full-bore Conservative. A hundred years ago, an Englishman visiting Texas was attempting to find the owner of a huge cattle ranch. He rode up to one of the ranch hands, and inquired, "Pardon me, but could you perhaps tell me where I might locate your master?" To which the cowboy replied, "That sumbitch ain't been born yit".
As they say, read the whole thing.

Tuesday, September 14, 2004

Wow, I've got a Reader!

Kevin, from The Smallest Minority, has posted this blog's inaugural comment! If you're a reader of gunblogs, you already know Kevin's work and his offer to introduce any newly hoplo-curious Tucsonans to the hobby of shooting, free of charge. You'd think Kevin and I would know each other by now because we live in the same small city and we're both enthusiasts (Nope, I've never even commented on his blog, so I have no idea how he came to visit). One factor in our never meeting is the exceptionally wide variety of shooting disciplines and venues available to southern Arizonans. Kevin is a club officer at the Tucson Rifle Club near Three Points...I think he does pistol silhouette. I've been roadtripping up to the awesome Ben Avery Shooting Facilty north of Phoenix since I first moved here to shoot in the Cactus Combat Match League's monthly USPSA* events (it helps to have friends that live in Phoenix). I also do the Pima Pistol Club's 3-Gun Tactical Match in Catalina, but they only hold those whenever a month has a fifth Sunday that doesn't fall on a holiday weekend or a club officer's birthday. (No link for you!)

Another reason we haven't met is that I'm extremely non-social (and lazy)...I've been aching to try Cowboy Action Shooting for years, but never summoned the gregarity to show up at the range alone and try to join somebody's posse. And this was back when a club was shooting at the nearby Desert Trails private range; they've since moved to the far-off TRC. I even bought my shooting buddy some cowboy duds for Christmas...but he moved to Phoenix afterwards!

So, what's the point of all this? Kevin's apparently never tried 3-gun before, but wants to try. Here's where Karma may be coming around to reward Kevin for his generous offer...I'm willing to provide the equipment and ammo (if that's what he's lacking) at a TRC or Ben Avery match so he can try it. He'll have to handle his own range fees, since I'm a bit underemployed at the moment.

*USPSA = US Pistol Shooting Assoc. The Cactus matches aren't really 3-Gun, but they let one pistol stage double as a carbine stage, and another to double as a riotgun stage.

Monday, September 13, 2004

The Vocally Ignorant

Just surfing over at the Spoons Experience...will have to blogroll soon. Commenter Mike's Opinion launched into a rant over private ownership of "the AK-47 or the Uzi" without even knowing the so-called "Assault Weapon" Ban did not even address fully automatic weapons. I can't blame him for this ignorance, because he probably gets his news from CBS or CNN.

Once Spoons corrected him, however, Mike still couldn't see why I should be allowed to have a semi-auto AK-47. My response:

Oh, what the heck.

What do I need with a semi-auto AK-47? Nothing! But I want one! And since I'm free to buy one in this country, I will! And use it in a law-abiding fashion, either in sanctioned competition, or plinking tin cans at the dump.

Mike Mode:

Do you own a sports car or SUV? What does anyone need with one of those?!? In today's society, everyone should own fuel-efficient, compact cars, and the money we save should be given to people who can't afford cars. Do you live in a big house?!? How can that be allowed? Everybody should be moved into communal housing with the government-recommended minimum floorspace. The money you save will be spent on people who can't afford housing.

End Mike Mode:

Hey, Mike...what do you need with TWO kidneys?


Such a Beautiful Sunset

Today, the so-called "Assault Weapon" Ban expired, and I couldn't be happier. What am I going to rush out and buy at the next gun show? Probably nothing. My EVIL-LOOKING gun collection is pretty well actualized with stuff bought before and during the ban. That's right, during the ban; you see, that's why the ban was such a worthless piece of legislation. My tricked out Bushmaster Shorty functions as efficiently as the military's M-4 carbine and looks just as deadly, but was just as legal as my deer gun.

What about high-capacity magazines? We'll I've been competing in IPSC 3-Gun (rather poorly) for the duration of the ban and accumulated enough hi-caps to last a lifetime. Paid through the nose. Maybe I'll pick some up just in case another Donkey Party candidate ever makes it into the White House in my lifetime. I won't hold my breath.

My words to the GFWs that see my hobby as an abomination? What part of "shall not be infringed" don't you understand? The Second Amendment isn't about hunting.

Saturday, September 11, 2004

Dan Rather Retirement Watch

When the Memo Forgery story first broke, I picked November 5th, figuring Gunga Dan would have issued a retraction by now. It appears that "What's the Font Size, Kenneth" is riding this one all the way down like Major Kong. What a horrible price to pay for a dud.

Saddle Up, Amoebas!

What better day to launch a blog than Patriots', not celebrating Kyle Brady's Inaugural Horse Trailer's the third anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. An event that forever ruined my own celebration on 9/12, when I raise a glass of Scotch to distant friends on the anniversary of our enlistment into the US Air Force. Well, not ruined, but put into a perspective. For ruined, I need only to look at my parents' wedding anniversary of 11/22, which wasn't even celebrated for 5 or 6 years before a President's assassination colored the day a darker shade.

Twenty-five years ago tomorrow, I raised my right hand in the service of my country. Two and a half years ago, I accepted a folded flag and plaque with the same hand, somehow bitter that I was leaving the service as a retiree, but not a veteran. My country was at War, but I was to be assigned to a Cold War circle-jerk tank instead of the warrior community I left to accept my last assignment. Despite Stop-Loss, it was actually easier to leave than to remain.

Perhaps by adding my words to the blogosphere, I can contribute to steering the nation to a safer, freer idiom...I'd settle for just being entertaining to the few who read my words.
Visits Since September 11, 2004