I Got Manipulated

Well, my photos did, anyway.  Check out this guy’s site.  He’s amazing…and he did wonders with my pic.  If I looked this good all the time I wouldn’t need to blog. ;)

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What Movie Are You?

I found this personality test on Fire and Ice and it seemed like a nice break from the fury the news brings me these days. :) It tells you what classic movie you are, based upon questions about your personality.

A couple of weeks ago, I took the 27 question version, which came up with a result I didn’t quite get, so I retook the 45 question version and it came up with the same result. I guess there’s no denying it:

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Ya know what’s weird? I’ve never even seen the movie! Maybe I should.

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Hey - Anyone Here In The Houston Area?

Are any of you readers in the Houston area?

And available for half a day tomorrow afternoon to go check out some of these “National Day of Action Rally for Immigrant Rights” in and around Houston? I’m going and wouldn’t mind someone on my six, ya know?

The various rallies are in mid to late afternoon. I’m looking at one that’s about 3:00-ish so I don’t have to take the entire day off.

I’m not lookin’ for trouble, just an up close and personal view of what’s going on around here. I’ve got a laptop and camera and will travel. :D If I can pick up some wifi, we can blog live.

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Military Tattoos

I was telling my son about the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and how I hope to visit it after the Milblog Conference this month. I told him that I used to know one of the soldiers in the Honor Guard, whose task it was to guard the Tomb - I went to Airborne School with him.

In Airborne School I was an Alpha (officer) and a stick leader. Every day, we’d have to run in our BDUs for miles. After the run, we were allowed to change our soaking wet t-shirts while standing in formation.

The stick leader in front of me was a perfect male specimen - 22 years old, 6′3″, muscular, and gorgeous in a ruthless kind of way. He was in prime physical condition; he totally looked the part of the perfect American soldier. The first time he changed his shirt in the rank ahead of me, my jaw dropped when I saw his body - every available inch on his torso was covered in tattoos! Surprisingly, they weren’t grotesque, but very artistic. A dragon’s head rested on his shoulder and the scaled body wrapped around his torso, across his hips, and down one leg (or so I was told). His chest and upper arms and legs were covered. Even the inside of his lower lip was tattooed with the words, “F*** You”. (Why?! I don’t know - let’s just say he had attitude to spare!) Both nipples were pierced and so was his *ahem* package (or so he told us - which back then was still unheard of and which quite shocked my 21 year old sensibilities!).

I admit, at first, I was a little repulsed. But every day, as he changed his uniform in front of me, I became fascinated with the story of his tattoos. Every single thing meant something to him - apparently enough to mark his body with it forever. I wondered why he’d covered himself so completely at the ripe old age of 22! He hadn’t left any room for further meaningful tattoos, that I could see, though he managed to squeeze in his Airborne wings.

One day, during Jump Week, I winced when I saw another guy’s brand new raw tattoo. It was raw and irritated from the chafing of all the jump gear we’d been in. This poor guy was NOT a perfect physical specimen of manhood; he was a skinny white boy with a glow-in-the-dark bony chest. He had obviously gotten too drunk the weekend before Jump Week to have any sense. He sported a creepy tattoo that looked like a skeleton hand ripping through his skin from the inside out and holding a dripping red heart with dangling valves and veins. What looked like red drops of blood dripped down his chest. He ruefully mentioned that his fiancée was going to hate it and she would kill him when she saw it. No doubt! It was grotesque - and it was huge - no wonder he was in pain under all his gear! It looked to me to be too big too fix - how would you cover something like that up?

Anyways, back to the guy with all the tattoos. That soldier was quite the rebel, but took every care to ensure he never stepped out of bounds when it came to the stringent physical requirements of the Honor Guard. He was physically perfect in every way - the quintessential American G.I. - until he took off his clothes. Though his body certainly told an interesting story, it was too much.

But since then, I’ve found that military tattoos fascinate me - and why guys (and gals) permanently mark their body with something that means so much to them. Recently, I found some photos of cool military tattoos at Military.com’s Shock and Awe website. Of course, there were the ever-present branch specific tattoos - the Marine Corps ones were probably the most graphic, the Navy the most artistically detailed, generally speaking. There were some really, really ugly ones - and some that were heart-breaking. There was an abundance of memorial tattoos depicting the boots, weapon, helmet and dog tags of a fallen comrade (see example below). Also, there seemed to be a lot that looked like torn skin with the red, white, and blue flag of America underneath. Considering what those boys seem to be made of, I think that about says it all.

Out of 400 tattoos (I obviously lost track of time while browsing!), I picked out a few that were eye-catchingly unique, interesting, or totally kick ass:

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What I Learned From Good Movies

I’ve been so busy laughing at the list I posted a few minutes ago, that I started thinking about how many Chuck Norris movies I’ve actually seen. We were a big movie family, growing up. I remember many, many nights as a kid sitting in front of the old TV with my siblings and my dad, watching old westerns like Shane, the classic war movies like Midway and A Bridge Too Far, and just about anything else where the bad guys got what was coming to them, dished out in spades by the good guy. When I wasn’t watching good-guy-bad-guy movies with Dad, I was watching things like My Fair Lady, Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Ben-Hur, and other classics that my mom pushed us in front of.

When I look back now, I realize that I learned a great deal from those old movies. Some things are pretty funny, but some things are pretty important life truths that I’ve held on to without ever realizing that they were imprinted by Sgt. York or Charleton Heston’s Judah.

So, here’s my list. What have you learned from movies that’s actually worth passing on?

1. Real men can bite huge rats to death while hanging upside down, with their hands tied behind their back.

2. Informing criminals that there’s a God, and “you’re gonna meet ‘im” just before you pump them full of vigilante lead is not only polite, but heightens the satisfaction of killing them. If they don’t inquire about their Creator, simply making some other profound statement can be equally as fulfilling.

3. Being married to a guy who can kick the ass of everyone around him is a sure sign that a movie wife is going to be kidnapped, raped, tortured, or killed; this, after all, is what prompts the rampage that the movie is all about. The violence with which she is dispatched into the next life is directly proportional to how much he loves her.

4. The bigger the gun, the better.

5. Never settle for a henchman when you can go after the big dog.

6. Sometimes lawful and right are two different things. Be able to tell the difference, and not afraid to act upon that.

7. Doing the right thing is as imperative as it is hard.

8. Even if you stand alone, stand anyway.

9. Shaking a pop makes it spray when opened. This is an incredible sibling weapon.

10. Sometimes people are just evil.

11. The American flag flying on a war-torn hilltop is one of the most beautiful things in the world.

12. A lifetime of honor can be lost in a moment.

13. Just because we’re all equal doesn’t mean I have to let you win.

14. Sometimes the only word that will work is a cuss word.

15. The bad guy is never dead the first time you shoot him, so don’t walk up to him until you’ve emptied a clip into his head.

15b. It’s okay to cheer when the bad guys get smoked.

and finally,

16. There is nothing sexier than a man who not only has principles, but the firepower and willingness to back them up. (Alan Ladd’s gunfighter in Shane? Puhlease. Like buttah.)

Let’s hear your list.

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2006 Winter Olympics

I’m busy, y’all. The Opening Ceremony for the Olympics is on tonight. The kiddos and I are planted in front of the TV, and I’ve got my Bailey’s in hand.

Items of interest:

North and South Korea entered under one flag, though they are competing as separate teams.

No Iraqi team. I don’t blame ‘em - sandy luge, anyone? Iran fielded a few, and Israel has eleven.

Poor Moldava had to borrow money in order to send their tiny team to Torino. :(

So far, my daughter and I agree that Germany and Italy had the best opening night outfits - Germany for color, and Italy for pure style. :)

The Ferrari pit stop was pretty darn cool! I’ll bet that’s never been done before.

OK, gotta go! Have a great weekend everyone!

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I Racially Profiled A Man

I’ve got a very reliable gut instinct that I learned long ago to trust. So far, it hasn’t ever let me down - and its “proof” rate makes me do things that may seem risky or improbable at first glance. But I always end up in the right. So when something happens that raises flags for me, I follow my instincts.

I live in an area that would be a very juicy target for terrorists. Houston is a nerve center for the oil and gas industry. Petro-chemical plants litter the entire Gulf Coast region, and all the related heavy industry works sprawl around their perimeters. We also have NASA and Boeing headquarters right here. Most important, perhaps, is the Port of Houston, the fourth largest port in the world and rapidly growing. Hundreds of thousands of containers import and export out of the Port of Houston, and the security here is an Achilles heel. Ships from every country in the world and carrying every imaginable cargo ingress and egress through the Port. It’s common knowledge that only 1 in 50 containers are inspected, if that. It’s a huge security concern, and everyone knows it.

Every year, there are people reported for taking photographs of the Port, and the refineries and chemcial plants in the area. Some are caught and arrested, others shoot the gate guards before escaping, and some are never reported at all. ALL of them are described as “middle eastern men”.

There is a huge contingent of Middle Easterners that live here, from uber-rich shieks to commoners. Some have their own planes, and numerous wives who live in glorious mansions with minarets that are patterned after their Islamic mosques; and others live packed in tiny apartments. Still others live in my neighborhood and their kids go to school with my kids.

So, middle eastern men are everywhere. They are engineers, professors, executives, IT gurus, and so on. They are involved in community events, clubs, and organizations. They are commonly seen, I’m friends with some, and I don’t walk around paranoid about all of them.

But I recently contacted the FBI about an encounter I had that was “off”. Why would I bother the FBI just because something was odd? Because you never know. I met a Muslim man that set off alarms. He was very courteous and pleasant. The brief conversation we had about national security (or lack thereof, according to him) was a bit extraordinary, but nothing would jump out to a casual observer as being overtly “wrong”.

None of that matters, though, because there were nuances to the conversation that left me unsettled. “For no reason,” I told myself, “See how pleasant he was?” I talked myself around the issue, but couldn’t shake that nagging feeling that something was “off”. Add that hunch to the racial profile, and now I’ve got a reason to contact the FBI. So I did. Nothing big, no big show of intel - I just cited the details of the conversation and gave the FBI the man’s name. What if the name of the man I met yesterday is already in the FBI database somewhere? Great - then they know where he is. And what if it’s not? If that’s the case, then no harm - no foul.

I profiled this guy - true. And I don’t apologize for it. I could’ve had that same exact conversation with a blond Aussie and it would never have raised my neck hairs. But then again, the blond Aussie probably wouldn’t have hesitated to shake a woman’s hand. And I have yet to hear of a blond Aussie calling for the death and destruction of America.

Some will be upset that I racially profiled this guy. Get over it. We’re at war, and some people - especially the millions of Arabs living within our borders - will have to realize that in our post-9/11 world, things are NOT the same. People might look at them a little harder, examine them a little closer, they may even refuse to board a plane with Muslim men aboard. Too bad, and so sad. This is about national security, and I don’t care about hurting anyone’s feelings.

Listen, the people who are trying to kill us with bombs and biological weapons are not from Canada, Chile, Ireland, Tanzania, New Zealand or the island of Jamaica. They are from the Arab Mideast. They are Muslim. They are not Catholic. They are not Israeli. They are Muslim men, between the ages of 17 and 45. So, we know the profile of the bad guys. And I refuse to pretend that there is no profile, nor will I ignore that profile.

Look at it this way:

If a group of terrorists took out the Port of Houston, destroyed the oil and gas infrastructure, killed 5,000 people, and then unleashed anthrax - and it soon became apparent that those terrorists were all red-headed American women in their thirties who tend to dress in blue jeans and T-shirts and love to go to baseball games - I would be pretty upset! Not only because of what the terrorists had done, but because they were just like me! I fit their profile! I look like them - I act like them! Everywhere I’d go people would notice me and give me hard looks and watch what I was doing. I would feel terrible about that. But I’d suck it up. I wouldn’t like it, but I’d get it.

Because under very special circumstances - and WAR is a very special circumstance - you sometimes have to sacrifice. You have to drop your burly pride a little and try to understand, and be accepting and accommodating. It takes some patience. And you know what? I don’t think that’s asking too much.

But when there IS no accomodation, I think we should recognize that as odd. About as odd as the converstion I had with a Muslim man yesterday.

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Guns: The Great Equalizers

I was at a gunshow recently, and as I was admiring a certain handgun and considering its purchase, a very know-it-all type next to me at the booth piped up. He told me that a bullet might not stop the most determined or crazed of attackers. Possibly even several bullets, if the attacker (or rabid animal) is deranged. BUT, he intoned, pepper spray will stop ANYONE or ANYTHING in its tracks. AND, he advised me, it will fit nicely in a lady’s purse.

Well, as a former military type who has gone through more chemical bunker drills - with snot flowing freely - than I care to remember, I concured with his assessment of the relative effectiveness of pepper spray. HOWEVER, I argued that to use pepper spray effectively, one needs to be relatively close - too close for comfort, in my opinion. Therefore, it would be wise to shoot FIRST, and spray if the crazy fucker keeps on coming AFTER you empty your clip.

Then I showed Mr. Know-It-All my personal version of a “lady’s purse”: an OD green government issue ammo shoulder pouch. You just can’t judge a book by it’s cover…no matter HOW good it looks. *wink*

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10 Minute Countdown to 24

I’m typing this fast and furious because I’ve got somewhere I need to be in nine minutes: in front of my TV for the 2-hour season premier of 24!! So there’s no time to waste.

Chad is awaiting 24 as eagerly as I am, and heard an interview with the show’s creator, Joel Surnow, that contained a little teaser for this season.

Hint: John McCain would NOT approve of Jack Bauer’s methods. Even better, eh?

I’ll meet you back here tomorrow ‘cuz I want to hear everyone’s feedback on the first two hours!

OK, 3 minutes to grab my drinks and head upstairs….

Later!

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Countdown to 24!

OK, most of you regulars know that I am a huge 24 enthusiast. And 24 starts this Sunday with a four hour premiere spread over two days. I’ll be busy those nights - no blogging. Here’s a sneak peek by reviewer, Matt Roush (below the fold so those non-24 fans needn’t be bothered. BTW, what’s wrong with you people, anyway?!).
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So What’s Goin’ On?

I feel like I’m coming back down to reality. I’ve had a three week whirlwind of a Christmas break. But now the kids are back in school, and I’m back home instead of gallivanting all over the place. There’s a lot to catch up on - not the least of which is to subject you to some photographs. :)
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Kit & Heidi - Alive And Well

Dear readers, some of you have emailed your concern for our whereabouts, and I’m happy to announce that we are alive and well in Branson, Missouri! I arrived in Oklahoma Wednesday evening, whereupon Kit and I immediately got to work. Was it weird meeting for the first time? Was there any tension, disappointment, let down, or fireworks?? I wish I could report on something very climactic…but no. It was just like we’ve always known on another. Nothing scary, nothing out of the ordinary. Both Kit and I are the exact same person we’ve always been on the phone. I will say one thing that is very cool - when we’re talking about our plans and discussing certain recent developments, it is downright fun to see in her eyes the same excitement I’m feeling inside. There’s a sparkle, and electricity, that would be impossible to recreate over the phone or online. That alone is worth taking the time to meet in person!

We immediately headed east to Branson to visit the office of Operation Homecoming 2006, and Gary Linderer and his family. This is Kit’s third trip to Branson, but my first. It was astounding to meet Gary in person. After spending my entire summer immersed in research concerning this man, and his military service in Vietnam, I simply had a hard time adjusting to the fact that I was here, eating dinner in his home. Gary is no longer just an abstract exercise in studious research and diligent investigation. He is a real man, with a beautiful wife, and strong, principled sons. The love and respect he has for his brothers in combat is more moving than I can recount. And his committment to all veterans is selfless and inspirational.

Kit and I fully intend to help in all ways possible the Operation Homecoming honoring our Vietnam veterans. We’ve met a handful of veterans here at the Operation Homecoming offices in Branson. We met Tom, a hearty bear of a man and Army Jumpmaster with over 500 jumps under his belt. He regaled us with stories of the toughest chick he ever served with - a Navy JSC team member. We’ve also visited with Sean, an Army brat and proud military family member who gave us rooms in his inn for free. The entire staff here at Operation Homecoming has been warm and welcoming, and we’ve anjoyed witnessing their undying commitment to producing The Best event honoring Vietnam veterans. This Homecoming is an event these veterans long ago earned with their honorable serivce, but were unconscionably denied for decades by political betrayal and media lies and distortion. We hope that in any big or small way we can to support this event, and in doing so, express our honor and respect for the veterans of the Vietnam War.

Ok, onward…we’ve got LOTS in the works, people. Kit is rapid-fire typing over at Barb Linderer’s desk, and I’ve gotta go catch up. Stay tuned. We’ve got some momentous announcements in the works!

PS: *ahem* I only need to remind Kit - I’m the one with the camera. Mwahahahahahaha.

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I’m Off To Meet The Wizard…

…well, Kit, that is! :) I don’t know why I have that song in my head…

I’m flying up to Okie today to meet Kit - in person! Who knows what will happen with two redheads like us in the same airspace??? Spontaneous combustion?! (If you don’t hear from either of us by the day after tomorrow, you’ll know what happened.) Either that, or we’ll reach a critical mass of vision, creativity, resources, and wit to then unleash upon our fortunate readership. Or… maybe we’ll just get drunk and live blog something just for the hysterical fun of it!

Whatever. Who knows? We’re redheads and unpredictable as all hell. Even we don’t know what to expect.

So, in the meantime, while I’m traversing airspace over the great state of Texas, check out the new digs and pat Kit on the back for her wizardry in creating our new custom blog-home. ****KUDOS**** We’ve got a few more things to add and tweak, but when it’s all said and done, we’ll return to our usual programming of fire and brimstone. Or not. Maybe we’ll take it easy and sit around and make fun of the Liberals and dhimmis forever and ever. Who knows???? Isn’t that half the fun?!

See ya on the other side.

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I’m Back!

Ahhhh….EuphoricReality.net…home sweet home.

Hi y’all! I’m glad to be back. Having successfully weathered an entire week in the mountains of Montana without phone OR internet, I am now ready to catch up on what’s happening in the world, and thusly endow the blogosphere with my opinion on it all.

Yeah, except I gotta do laundry first…

And get some groceries…

And pick up the Boxers from their doggie-spa…

But after that, I will unleash. Mwah hahahahaha!

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A Few Christmas Thoughts

This Christmas is extremely special to me. It’s the first time The Marine will be home for Christmas in 5 years, and our first married Christmas as well. We’re pretty excited.

Just as special to me this Christmas, however, are the troops who are willingly spending their holiday away from their families and loved ones. Whether they are in Iraq, Afghanistan, or anywhere else overseas, their sacrifice is so appreciated. I love all of them dearly and hope they stay safe.

For the troops like Joshua Sparling, lying in a hospital bed recovering from their wounds, I send prayers and many hugs. May all of them know they are cared for and cherished as defenders of the country I love.

For the families of the fallen, who are setting one less place at the table this year and every year to come, I wish healing and grace in this difficult time. I know no mere words can make a real difference, but it’s my hope that all of them understand how very grateful we are for the gift of their loved ones.

The wreath-covered white stones in Arlington, and the quiet places all over the country that serve as the final resting places of our fallen, will always be in the back of my mind. I am free today because of you, and I will never forget the price you paid to make it so.

God bless them all, and God bless our nation.

Enjoy your Christmas folks, and remember those who wear our country’s uniform.

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