Friday, May 27, 2005
WHITE PLAINS, N.Y. — Everyone agrees that Ligaya Lagman is a Gold Star mother, part of the long line of mournful women whose sons or daughters gave their lives for their country. Her 27-year-old son, Army Staff Sgt. Anthony Lagman was killed last year in Afghanistan, but American Gold Star Mothers Inc., has rejected Lagman, a Filipino, for membership because — though a permanent resident and a taxpayer — she is not a U.S. citizen.
"There's nothing we can do because that's what our organization says: You have to be an American citizen," national President Ann Herd said Thursday. "We can't go changing the rules every time the wind blows."-AP
Excuse me, Mrs. Herd, but what did you just say?
Did you really say “We can't go changing the rules every time the wind blows."?
My God women! I with I could slap some scene in you!
Its people like this who wont let me run for President of the United States because I was born in Canada!
Really though, what kind of organization is this? Not only do I hope that the rule does change, I hope they change the president too. What is the intent/ purpose of having an organization like this? I would think it was to honor mothers of soldiers killed in wartime, while serving their country and to give them a community of support with others who have lived through the same kind of tragedy. What is the importance of citizenship in this case?
"There's nothing we can do because that's what our organization says: You have to be an American citizen," national President Ann Herd said Thursday. "We can't go changing the rules every time the wind blows."-AP
Excuse me, Mrs. Herd, but what did you just say?
Did you really say “We can't go changing the rules every time the wind blows."?
My God women! I with I could slap some scene in you!
Its people like this who wont let me run for President of the United States because I was born in Canada!
Really though, what kind of organization is this? Not only do I hope that the rule does change, I hope they change the president too. What is the intent/ purpose of having an organization like this? I would think it was to honor mothers of soldiers killed in wartime, while serving their country and to give them a community of support with others who have lived through the same kind of tragedy. What is the importance of citizenship in this case?
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Noah began farming and planted a vineyard and he drank of the wine and became drunk, and uncovered himself inside his tent. Ham the father of Canaan, saw the nakedness of his father, and told his two brothers outside. Shem and Japheth took a garment and laid it upon both of their shoulders and walked backwards and covered the nakedness of their father; and their faces were turned away, so that they did not see their father’s nakedness. Genesis 9: 20-23
Last night I saw my father in a shameful state. It’s hard to see a parent in state of drunkenness. I take that back, its hard for me to see my father in a state of drunkenness. I am use to seeing my mother like that. My father on the other hand, has always been the strong one. He has always been the hero of the family, never showing any signs of weakness, until last night. Last night he was drunk, kind of emotional, and was receiving the cold-shoulder from his friends, though he had no clue. I was embarrassed for him for the first time in my life. I have always been proud of my dad; always glad to mention that I was his son. I hated seeing my dad like that. I hated seeing his friends ignore him, but I wanted to ignore him too.
I don’t know if I am ready or even want to parent my parents.
I see why Shem and Japheth turned their heads away from their father; no one wants to see their dad in vulnerable, pathetic state.
I want to be like my father in some many ways, but not that way.
Last night I saw my father in a shameful state. It’s hard to see a parent in state of drunkenness. I take that back, its hard for me to see my father in a state of drunkenness. I am use to seeing my mother like that. My father on the other hand, has always been the strong one. He has always been the hero of the family, never showing any signs of weakness, until last night. Last night he was drunk, kind of emotional, and was receiving the cold-shoulder from his friends, though he had no clue. I was embarrassed for him for the first time in my life. I have always been proud of my dad; always glad to mention that I was his son. I hated seeing my dad like that. I hated seeing his friends ignore him, but I wanted to ignore him too.
I don’t know if I am ready or even want to parent my parents.
I see why Shem and Japheth turned their heads away from their father; no one wants to see their dad in vulnerable, pathetic state.
I want to be like my father in some many ways, but not that way.
Monday, May 16, 2005
I was at the grocery store yesterday and as I was leaving, a 65 mustang caught my eye. I stared at it as I was pulling out of the parking lot, thinking it sure looked a lot like my first car. It couldn’t have been though; it was too tore up to be my old car. If it was my old car, it was just a shell of what it use to be. I ended up turning around to get another look at it. Sure enough it was my old car. I got out of my truck to get a better look at it.
It still had a Speedo sticker on the back window, a marker of my swimming days. It still had the same rims, wool seat covers and stereo. It was saddening to see the condition of this car. I use to have so much pride in it, washing, shinning and waxing it almost every weekend. Now the paint no longer shined, the chrome rims were dull and dingy, and the tinted windows were faded. The wheels didn’t even match. The owner had begun to sand down the paint on parts of the car. The car was in a horrid condition. What had they done to my car? My heart was broken over the neglect of what was once a beautiful car that always turned heads.
I began to compare myself to my first car. I realized I am not much of what I use to be either. I have begun to fade in so many ways myself. My hairline has begun to recede, I am not longer as tan as I use to be, and the body that I had developed from swimming everyday and lifting weights is long gone.
But, you know, the death of the Mike Wallace of 1995 it a good thing. And maybe the death of my Mustang is a good thing too. Not all death is bad you see. With death, there is renewal. Since the car still ran, and it looked as if the owner was slowly restoring the car, there was a hope. Hope that the car would become better than it was.
The same hope kinda holds true for me. A hope that, as I continue to die and fade throughout my life, I will be renewed. I will become even better than what I was before. That I will one day become fully restored.
It still had a Speedo sticker on the back window, a marker of my swimming days. It still had the same rims, wool seat covers and stereo. It was saddening to see the condition of this car. I use to have so much pride in it, washing, shinning and waxing it almost every weekend. Now the paint no longer shined, the chrome rims were dull and dingy, and the tinted windows were faded. The wheels didn’t even match. The owner had begun to sand down the paint on parts of the car. The car was in a horrid condition. What had they done to my car? My heart was broken over the neglect of what was once a beautiful car that always turned heads.
I began to compare myself to my first car. I realized I am not much of what I use to be either. I have begun to fade in so many ways myself. My hairline has begun to recede, I am not longer as tan as I use to be, and the body that I had developed from swimming everyday and lifting weights is long gone.
But, you know, the death of the Mike Wallace of 1995 it a good thing. And maybe the death of my Mustang is a good thing too. Not all death is bad you see. With death, there is renewal. Since the car still ran, and it looked as if the owner was slowly restoring the car, there was a hope. Hope that the car would become better than it was.
The same hope kinda holds true for me. A hope that, as I continue to die and fade throughout my life, I will be renewed. I will become even better than what I was before. That I will one day become fully restored.
Friday, May 13, 2005
Find me find me
I'm in the bedroom
Love me love me
Love me like you know how
Kiss me kiss me
So I can touch your soul
Hurt me hurt me
I have become dispensable.
I'm in the bedroom
Love me love me
Love me like you know how
Kiss me kiss me
So I can touch your soul
Hurt me hurt me
I have become dispensable.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
A letter of truth from Iraq.
howdy all,
so, I guess from now on I'll do quick proof read of updates before I send them out. This could possibly help me put the appearance accross that I can actually put togeather a sentance.
Anywho, in the news it appears baghdad is quite a busy town. I haven't seen anywhere as much action as the news is reporting about here. That in no way means that there isn't gunfire and explosions on a daily basis. There is but, I am staying safe and am always surrounded by much armor and all my gun toting buddies.I try and not watch the news much as it is rather depressing. Funny though, I had no interest in the news before I was here and now I'm surrounded by it. It's amusing some of the headlines I see on yahoo... like " insurgents have started offensive" and other useless blurbs to someone who only has to look out their window. The blurbs don't do much to explain the actuality of what is going on here either. As of late the majority of the attacks have been against IP and IA.The attacks against coalition forces have been secondary options. The attacks have increased though as we've started handing over the sectors. I doubt they'll stop anytime soon either wheather we're here or not.
Lately we've been settling into our routine. One day, a section will man the front tower, that overlooks the front gate, while the other section is QRF while running 1-2 patrols and picking up the daily supplies. the next day we rotate. Each section is comprised of 2 squads and there are 4 squads in our platoon that resides here at the plant. We share the responsibility of gaurding the plant with hired british and fijian gaurds as well as iraqi gaurds.
We have a sniper team attached to our company that resides out here at the plant with us. We've been rotating through going on missions with them. I went with them about a week ago. A couple days after my mission, my section took them out for an insertion. A catholic school was selected as 24 hr op as it overlooks high traffic road which has had several ied's since we've been here. It also overlooks a technical college that we've dubbed ied tech. We took them to a side gate in the middle of the night to set up there op. We used my hummer to get them over the 10ft steel gate at the side of the school. We pulled security as they made there way to the building before we loaded up. As we were about to roll out we got the call for immediate extraction. There are gaurds at ied tech and everyhousehold is allowed one ak so as we didn't hear gunfire we still moved immediately. I cut out of formation and blew through the gate. I preface the following by saying no one died. When I blew through that gate it was freaking amazing. This was my third gate but the most sizable one. I knocked down a 5ft cinder block wall and entry to open it up for troops but this gate was definately the most exhilarating. It wasn't till later that we were able to smile about the gate. The gate opened up to the back of the school where we were unable to reach the snipers who had made their way to the opposite side of the school on a 2ft ledge along the 2nd floor of the building. We exited the compound and went to the front of the school's compound where the front gate was beyond my abilities and those of my hummer's front grill. We climbed the gate and sprinted the 200yds to the sniper team. They hadn't been attacked. The ledge had collapsed under the lead sniper as they were making there way to the roof access. It was pretty scary but we always roll out with a medic. He had jumped the gate with us. As they started first aid, I went to get the priest to open up the front gate so we could transport our guy out. Through the terp,interpreter, the priest told me he didn't want to let our vehicles on to his property for fear of retribution from insurgents. This is the grey area. I briefly mentioned going to catholic school. I didn't figure it was the best time to try and explain that I actually went to an episcopal school and a jesuit university. From here I didn't do so well and maybe it was easier on me not actually being catholic. I told him first it wasn't his fault the soldier had been hurt but, if he didn't open the gate immediately it would be destroyed as well as his school and he would be held responsible for the soldiers life. He may have inferred more from my tone, or in the translation from the terp, about his personal safety. He immediately had the gate opened. I made it back to the downed soldier in time to help secure him to a backboard. He had a possible spinal injury broken leg and arm as well as concussion. We loaded him on my hummer and took what seemed like the longest and bumpiest drive I have ever taken. We got him back to the fob one of the two places within 10 minutes of anywhere in our sector that we can take wounded. It turns out he only recieved a compound fracture in his arm and a dislocated elbow and shoulder. It sounds fairly nasty but it could have been much much worse.
So with the sniper, castillo, in stable condition in germany, it's easier to joke around about busting gates down. My buddy and I came up with a little saying after my first joy-ride through the city. It's a play on the bracelets that were quite popular a few years ago. The saying is What Would Bo and Luke Do (Dukes of Hazard). I don't know if we'll go as far as naming our hummer the general lee and adding an ornamental novelty horn to my ride but it's definately something we chuckle about as I'm weaving through traffic, jumping medians and knocking down walls. All things that probably don't seem quite proper from stateside but things are different here and gain quite a different perspective after a couple weeks in sector.
Well, I've rambled on quite enough. Hope everyone is well. The 1st pic is my section on foot patrol through the Al Dorha market and the 2nd is our medic having tea with a local family. Peace
Dave
howdy all,
so, I guess from now on I'll do quick proof read of updates before I send them out. This could possibly help me put the appearance accross that I can actually put togeather a sentance.
Anywho, in the news it appears baghdad is quite a busy town. I haven't seen anywhere as much action as the news is reporting about here. That in no way means that there isn't gunfire and explosions on a daily basis. There is but, I am staying safe and am always surrounded by much armor and all my gun toting buddies.I try and not watch the news much as it is rather depressing. Funny though, I had no interest in the news before I was here and now I'm surrounded by it. It's amusing some of the headlines I see on yahoo... like " insurgents have started offensive" and other useless blurbs to someone who only has to look out their window. The blurbs don't do much to explain the actuality of what is going on here either. As of late the majority of the attacks have been against IP and IA.The attacks against coalition forces have been secondary options. The attacks have increased though as we've started handing over the sectors. I doubt they'll stop anytime soon either wheather we're here or not.
Lately we've been settling into our routine. One day, a section will man the front tower, that overlooks the front gate, while the other section is QRF while running 1-2 patrols and picking up the daily supplies. the next day we rotate. Each section is comprised of 2 squads and there are 4 squads in our platoon that resides here at the plant. We share the responsibility of gaurding the plant with hired british and fijian gaurds as well as iraqi gaurds.
We have a sniper team attached to our company that resides out here at the plant with us. We've been rotating through going on missions with them. I went with them about a week ago. A couple days after my mission, my section took them out for an insertion. A catholic school was selected as 24 hr op as it overlooks high traffic road which has had several ied's since we've been here. It also overlooks a technical college that we've dubbed ied tech. We took them to a side gate in the middle of the night to set up there op. We used my hummer to get them over the 10ft steel gate at the side of the school. We pulled security as they made there way to the building before we loaded up. As we were about to roll out we got the call for immediate extraction. There are gaurds at ied tech and everyhousehold is allowed one ak so as we didn't hear gunfire we still moved immediately. I cut out of formation and blew through the gate. I preface the following by saying no one died. When I blew through that gate it was freaking amazing. This was my third gate but the most sizable one. I knocked down a 5ft cinder block wall and entry to open it up for troops but this gate was definately the most exhilarating. It wasn't till later that we were able to smile about the gate. The gate opened up to the back of the school where we were unable to reach the snipers who had made their way to the opposite side of the school on a 2ft ledge along the 2nd floor of the building. We exited the compound and went to the front of the school's compound where the front gate was beyond my abilities and those of my hummer's front grill. We climbed the gate and sprinted the 200yds to the sniper team. They hadn't been attacked. The ledge had collapsed under the lead sniper as they were making there way to the roof access. It was pretty scary but we always roll out with a medic. He had jumped the gate with us. As they started first aid, I went to get the priest to open up the front gate so we could transport our guy out. Through the terp,interpreter, the priest told me he didn't want to let our vehicles on to his property for fear of retribution from insurgents. This is the grey area. I briefly mentioned going to catholic school. I didn't figure it was the best time to try and explain that I actually went to an episcopal school and a jesuit university. From here I didn't do so well and maybe it was easier on me not actually being catholic. I told him first it wasn't his fault the soldier had been hurt but, if he didn't open the gate immediately it would be destroyed as well as his school and he would be held responsible for the soldiers life. He may have inferred more from my tone, or in the translation from the terp, about his personal safety. He immediately had the gate opened. I made it back to the downed soldier in time to help secure him to a backboard. He had a possible spinal injury broken leg and arm as well as concussion. We loaded him on my hummer and took what seemed like the longest and bumpiest drive I have ever taken. We got him back to the fob one of the two places within 10 minutes of anywhere in our sector that we can take wounded. It turns out he only recieved a compound fracture in his arm and a dislocated elbow and shoulder. It sounds fairly nasty but it could have been much much worse.
So with the sniper, castillo, in stable condition in germany, it's easier to joke around about busting gates down. My buddy and I came up with a little saying after my first joy-ride through the city. It's a play on the bracelets that were quite popular a few years ago. The saying is What Would Bo and Luke Do (Dukes of Hazard). I don't know if we'll go as far as naming our hummer the general lee and adding an ornamental novelty horn to my ride but it's definately something we chuckle about as I'm weaving through traffic, jumping medians and knocking down walls. All things that probably don't seem quite proper from stateside but things are different here and gain quite a different perspective after a couple weeks in sector.
Well, I've rambled on quite enough. Hope everyone is well. The 1st pic is my section on foot patrol through the Al Dorha market and the 2nd is our medic having tea with a local family. Peace
Dave
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
One Selfish Son of a Bitch.
I made a special effort of keeping Grace occupied tonight, so that Audrey could pick up around the house and have a little bit of time to herself. I have to say; I felt like I was racking up some of those "good husband/ father points" if such a thing even exist.
The evening began with Grace and I embarking on a walk in her wagon. We walked along the canal near our house. Which is the same path I took Grace for walks on last summer, when she was only 3 months old. I was reluctant to go on the walk because of the wind, but I decided to go anyway.
Pulling the wagon and thinking, Gracie had interrupted my self-centered thoughts with her gibberish. When I looked back at her to see what she was talking about, she was pointing to a Quaker Tree and smiling. I stopped and observed the trees with her for a minute. The leaves looked like they were applauding us. I began to realize at this moment, that wind is a beautiful thing; it's not something you have to hide in your house from. I was thinking that wind is nature’s music, it provides rhythm for the tress to dance to.
As we continued our walk we saw a couple of boys flying kites in a field. I never thought much about a kite or its purpose, but it now seemed clear to me that, the purpose of the kite is to celebrate the wind. We watch the kites soar in the sky, with white and gray broken storm clouds high above and the sun, which we did not see much of today, setting in the west.
After our walk I let Grace play with her shovel and rake in the dirt for a while, then the two of us went to the store to get some groceries. After returning to the store, I made dinner for all of us, and was feeling pretty good about my chivalrous acts. That is until I watch Nanny 911.
The episode featured a husband and wife who had 23 disabled foster children. This episode became a mirror upon my own selfishness. As I watch how this family functioned, I was amazed by all of the daily activities and chores that needed to be done. The making of making 23 breakfasts, 23 lunches and 23 dinners. On top of all of that, there were 35 loads of laundry a day that needed to be completed and folded, trash taken out, dishes washed, and picking up of the house. Not to forget, in addition to other responsibilities and chores that had to be done daily, these were special needs children that needed a lot of support, attention and love.
As I watched, I could not help but begin to reflect on all of the times I was too selfish to get out of bed to get Grace, or to change a diaper, or to stop what I was doing to spend time with my daughter, pushing those responsibilities onto Audrey. The guilt was heavy upon my heart and I began to feel sick to my stomach.
I was in awe of the parent’s self -sacrifice for these children. They have totally set aside their wants, ambitions, and desires to raise these children.
I began to wonder if I have it all wrong about them? Maybe they have set nothing aside. Maybe their true desire and wants are to give these foster children a loving home. Maybe they truly want to serve selflessly.
How do you get a heart like that? How do live so selflessly? How do find the strength to parent one child and love one wife, let alone 23 kids and a spouse who was also disabled and in a wheel chair like their children?
The show made me cry, but my tears were not just out of sandiness. My tears were of joy as well, because, after a day like today, I needed to see that people were good. I needed to know that not all fathers rape their daughters. I needed to know that not all mothers neglect their children. I needed to know that my special effort tonight falls so far short of what really my heart should be. I needed to know, that I am selfish son of a bitch.
I made a special effort of keeping Grace occupied tonight, so that Audrey could pick up around the house and have a little bit of time to herself. I have to say; I felt like I was racking up some of those "good husband/ father points" if such a thing even exist.
The evening began with Grace and I embarking on a walk in her wagon. We walked along the canal near our house. Which is the same path I took Grace for walks on last summer, when she was only 3 months old. I was reluctant to go on the walk because of the wind, but I decided to go anyway.
Pulling the wagon and thinking, Gracie had interrupted my self-centered thoughts with her gibberish. When I looked back at her to see what she was talking about, she was pointing to a Quaker Tree and smiling. I stopped and observed the trees with her for a minute. The leaves looked like they were applauding us. I began to realize at this moment, that wind is a beautiful thing; it's not something you have to hide in your house from. I was thinking that wind is nature’s music, it provides rhythm for the tress to dance to.
As we continued our walk we saw a couple of boys flying kites in a field. I never thought much about a kite or its purpose, but it now seemed clear to me that, the purpose of the kite is to celebrate the wind. We watch the kites soar in the sky, with white and gray broken storm clouds high above and the sun, which we did not see much of today, setting in the west.
After our walk I let Grace play with her shovel and rake in the dirt for a while, then the two of us went to the store to get some groceries. After returning to the store, I made dinner for all of us, and was feeling pretty good about my chivalrous acts. That is until I watch Nanny 911.
The episode featured a husband and wife who had 23 disabled foster children. This episode became a mirror upon my own selfishness. As I watch how this family functioned, I was amazed by all of the daily activities and chores that needed to be done. The making of making 23 breakfasts, 23 lunches and 23 dinners. On top of all of that, there were 35 loads of laundry a day that needed to be completed and folded, trash taken out, dishes washed, and picking up of the house. Not to forget, in addition to other responsibilities and chores that had to be done daily, these were special needs children that needed a lot of support, attention and love.
As I watched, I could not help but begin to reflect on all of the times I was too selfish to get out of bed to get Grace, or to change a diaper, or to stop what I was doing to spend time with my daughter, pushing those responsibilities onto Audrey. The guilt was heavy upon my heart and I began to feel sick to my stomach.
I was in awe of the parent’s self -sacrifice for these children. They have totally set aside their wants, ambitions, and desires to raise these children.
I began to wonder if I have it all wrong about them? Maybe they have set nothing aside. Maybe their true desire and wants are to give these foster children a loving home. Maybe they truly want to serve selflessly.
How do you get a heart like that? How do live so selflessly? How do find the strength to parent one child and love one wife, let alone 23 kids and a spouse who was also disabled and in a wheel chair like their children?
The show made me cry, but my tears were not just out of sandiness. My tears were of joy as well, because, after a day like today, I needed to see that people were good. I needed to know that not all fathers rape their daughters. I needed to know that not all mothers neglect their children. I needed to know that my special effort tonight falls so far short of what really my heart should be. I needed to know, that I am selfish son of a bitch.
Friday, May 06, 2005
Daily banter amongst best friends.
On Thursday, May 5, 2005, at 09:39 AM, Mawallace wrote:
Since we cant write music at home, we should try and do it on-line. Lets start with the chorus. I will start it and you guys add to it.
You have expectations, but maybe you should expect more out of yourself first.
"Jason L. Walker" wrote:
I dream back to a place when I knew little of what to expect from you.
And to expect more is to lose more.
Mawallace wrote:
Lost without direction, sad without tears, dead with a heart beat. In the finding is the losing.
Mawallace wrote:
Are we really letting each other down or is it our own fault. Have we created false images of each other- We crucify one another when we fall
From: Will ZschauSent: Thursday, May 05, 2005 10:33
to find our future in the muddied blood and the time that we take to fall to the ground and swim in the past of our heart's mal-content
On Thursday, May 5, 2005, at 10:42 AM, Russell Howard wrote:
and the crows leave prints and the sands downward fall and
we have nothing unless we've lost it all.- (sorry for the rhymy thing)
On 5/5/05, Jason L. Walker wrote:
I'm losing it all losing it all because I look to long at my growing shadow,I grow no longer until my eyes turn forward.
Will Zschau wrote:
And the shadows they cover my attempts to see where life has lead me so I look to behind and the darkness that follows and I look to ahead and the sunshines it's light. Dissolving the shadows that once clouded my head.
On Thursday, May 5, 2005, at 09:39 AM, Mawallace wrote:
Since we cant write music at home, we should try and do it on-line. Lets start with the chorus. I will start it and you guys add to it.
You have expectations, but maybe you should expect more out of yourself first.
"Jason L. Walker" wrote:
I dream back to a place when I knew little of what to expect from you.
And to expect more is to lose more.
Mawallace wrote:
Lost without direction, sad without tears, dead with a heart beat. In the finding is the losing.
Mawallace wrote:
Are we really letting each other down or is it our own fault. Have we created false images of each other- We crucify one another when we fall
From: Will ZschauSent: Thursday, May 05, 2005 10:33
to find our future in the muddied blood and the time that we take to fall to the ground and swim in the past of our heart's mal-content
On Thursday, May 5, 2005, at 10:42 AM, Russell Howard wrote:
and the crows leave prints and the sands downward fall and
we have nothing unless we've lost it all.- (sorry for the rhymy thing)
On 5/5/05, Jason L. Walker wrote:
I'm losing it all losing it all because I look to long at my growing shadow,I grow no longer until my eyes turn forward.
Will Zschau wrote:
And the shadows they cover my attempts to see where life has lead me so I look to behind and the darkness that follows and I look to ahead and the sunshines it's light. Dissolving the shadows that once clouded my head.
