Ok, I've decided Gomer's needs some sprucing up. Not having access to Photoshop, I've downloaded the GIMP to use as an image editor for creating some professional graphics.
Man is it hard to use...not intuitive at ALL.
Anyway, look for some changes coming soon if I can figure out the damn GIMP user interface.
Friday, April 28, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Monday, April 24, 2006
Scalded Bitch
This weekend saw the performance of a yearly Spring ritual with me...awakening the sleeping boat. All boats are female, and mine is no different. She has been slumbering and dreaming of this weekend since November of last year, nursed through the long winter by an occasional reassurance by me of the ticking clock.
On Sunday she roared to life on command, cleared her throat, and gave me the pleasure I seek this time every year...screaming scary-fast across the lake after a long winter absent of speed.
Yes she is a female, but not of the likes of a Lady Diana or Mother Theresa. She is more of the pierced, black dyed-goth-lesbian, kick your ass for fucking with her, type. Crack her 275 HP Mercury Marine race bred motor wide open, and she runs like a scalded bitch dog. It will peel your eyelids back, and literally take your breath away. She is mean, unpredictable, and hard to handle. Like most dangerous women, you have to respect her or she will hurt you...and hurt you bad. I know, because I have been thrown by her at 72MPH, and lived to tell the tale. You don't drive a Bullet boat...you fly them, and you better know WTF you're doing.
90+ MPH into a head wind while sitting at water level...now that's a fullfilling relationship.
On Sunday she roared to life on command, cleared her throat, and gave me the pleasure I seek this time every year...screaming scary-fast across the lake after a long winter absent of speed.
Yes she is a female, but not of the likes of a Lady Diana or Mother Theresa. She is more of the pierced, black dyed-goth-lesbian, kick your ass for fucking with her, type. Crack her 275 HP Mercury Marine race bred motor wide open, and she runs like a scalded bitch dog. It will peel your eyelids back, and literally take your breath away. She is mean, unpredictable, and hard to handle. Like most dangerous women, you have to respect her or she will hurt you...and hurt you bad. I know, because I have been thrown by her at 72MPH, and lived to tell the tale. You don't drive a Bullet boat...you fly them, and you better know WTF you're doing.
90+ MPH into a head wind while sitting at water level...now that's a fullfilling relationship.
The Twins Arrive
Fedex delivered two of the most beautiful babies last Friday. They were born in 2003 in Bordeaux, France...spent nearly three years learning their trade trapped in a barrel...and have come to live as foster children in Jefe's cellar until I decide to kill them sometime after 2013. Their names?
2003 Chateau Ducru Beaucaillou, St Julien.
2003 Chateau Calon-Segur, St Estephe.
I can hardly contain my desire to execute them now. A first-growth class wine from Bordeaux, in an excellent vintage, is one of life's supreme pleasures...and expenses.
Tasting notes coming in 2015. Stay tuned.
2003 Chateau Ducru Beaucaillou, St Julien.
2003 Chateau Calon-Segur, St Estephe.
I can hardly contain my desire to execute them now. A first-growth class wine from Bordeaux, in an excellent vintage, is one of life's supreme pleasures...and expenses.
Tasting notes coming in 2015. Stay tuned.
A love-hate thing
I both love and hate Spring. I love it because of it's sights and smells, and I hate it because of all the work it brings. The older I get, the more work there is in the Spring. By the time I am ready to retire, Spring will have evolved into a perpetual work season encompassing my entire year. That is really what retirement is for...full time attention to the by-then-bloated "honey do" list.
As I get older, I accumulate more "things" that need attention in the spring:
boats
buildings
plants and landscapes
fishing equipment
patio furnishings
docks
All of which increase my Spring workload; and decrease the amount of time spent savoring the reasons I really enjoy the season. When I was a child, Spring was a change in the smell of the air, a delightful change in the landscape, or a swollen creek ripe for exploration. Now it just means work; and another quarter of another year, in the too-short progression of a somewhat meaningless life.
As I get older, I accumulate more "things" that need attention in the spring:
boats
buildings
plants and landscapes
fishing equipment
patio furnishings
docks
All of which increase my Spring workload; and decrease the amount of time spent savoring the reasons I really enjoy the season. When I was a child, Spring was a change in the smell of the air, a delightful change in the landscape, or a swollen creek ripe for exploration. Now it just means work; and another quarter of another year, in the too-short progression of a somewhat meaningless life.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Hoax
My bowels are as irritable as ever...and I am actually developing a cold sore. Maybe Jodi misunderstood, and her cousin actually said manogsteen juice caused these conditions.
Looks like the mangosteen will join noni juice as just another overpriced laxative.
Looks like the mangosteen will join noni juice as just another overpriced laxative.
Give me an excuse for this
Rail on Bush all you want. Throw Rumsfeld to the wolves for all I care. Seethe in your opposition to whichever political party you currently hate. Profess abject doom and gloom over the current situation in Iraq, or skip-to-my-lou with unbridled hope...your choice.
But someone give me a reason why these BASTARDS should not be hunted down and killed. Please..someone defend this. I dare you.
If I was 20 again, I'd be on my way to enlist in the special forces just to get a crack at these pukes.
(Edit: When I posted this, the article did not contain the denials from US and Iraq sources. Time will tell if it is truly false...and I hope it is)
But someone give me a reason why these BASTARDS should not be hunted down and killed. Please..someone defend this. I dare you.
If I was 20 again, I'd be on my way to enlist in the special forces just to get a crack at these pukes.
(Edit: When I posted this, the article did not contain the denials from US and Iraq sources. Time will tell if it is truly false...and I hope it is)
Monday, April 17, 2006
Male Vs. Female Shopping
How I shop.
I walked into Door County Cycle this weekend and collected a new pair of Keen sandals, a sweater on sale for 50% off, and a new Thule bike rack for our vehicle. I knew what I wanted, and no damn salesman was going to "educate" me about various bike racks.
Total elapsed time: 5 minutes 26 seconds (including checkout).
Percent Satisfaction: 100%
Second Thoughts: NONE
Guilt factor: ZERO
Spousal approval factor: 100%
How my wife shops:
On the first of three trips to the same bike shop, I told my wife to buy the bike she was looking at because we would just be back to get that one anyway. I knew she liked it. I knew she wanted THAT bike, but she wanted to shop around a bit and do some research. We bought that same bike on the third trip back...I must be fricken Nostradamus.
On the first trip to the bike shop my wife told the salesperson she was looking for a bike that would suit her needs of casual trail riding. After being shown several very capable bikes, Jodi asks if there might be something a little more money. "I am interested in something that could be raced, you know...if I ever wanted to". I saw the salesman wipe a little drool from his chin. "Raced?" I thought. "She has never raced bikes". "She does not even know anyone who races mountain bikes". "Hell, she would not even have time to practice let alone race". WTF is she thinking, is what I am thinking at this point. With a gleam in his eye, and sensing the fulfillment of next months mortgage, the salesperson steered us to the "upgraded component" bikes. These are your $1000+ skull crackers, not the mom and pop roadsters that sell for a measly $600. She got the sales pitch for the big money wheelers, and she was convinced. Once the coolness factor of the high quality, race enabled, tough SOB bike was thoroughly ingrained...there was no turning back. All future comparisons were to be with like models, and my fate was sealed. In her mind, she was burning down the hill neck and neck with another racer; her equipment was going to be the deciding factor. At this point. I recused myself from the process in the interest of marital harmony, and let my now Olympic bike racing wife live her unquestionably never-going-to-happen statement to fruition. We were back again later that month to purchase the bike after evaluating 8 similarly equipped bikes of various manufacture.
Total elapsed time: 56 days, 7 hours, 18 minutes (including checkout).
Percent Satisfaction: 98%
Second Thoughts: YES
Guilt factor: 10%
Spousal approval factor:60%
I did, however, point out the rationale that I would now be using on MY next big ticket purchase.
Me: "Excuse me sir, I am looking for a car. One that will provide reliable transportation to work and for errands, and oh by the way, it should be able to make a credible showing in a NASCAR event if I ever wanted to do that."
Dealer: "Well sir, I can see you know a lot about cars (laughs to himself). Have you ever driven the Ferrari Enzo? Top notch and very race capable..ehem, should you ever want to do that. I know it is a tad more than the lowly Corvette ($225,000 more), but it has upgraded components."
I walked into Door County Cycle this weekend and collected a new pair of Keen sandals, a sweater on sale for 50% off, and a new Thule bike rack for our vehicle. I knew what I wanted, and no damn salesman was going to "educate" me about various bike racks.
Total elapsed time: 5 minutes 26 seconds (including checkout).
Percent Satisfaction: 100%
Second Thoughts: NONE
Guilt factor: ZERO
Spousal approval factor: 100%
How my wife shops:
On the first of three trips to the same bike shop, I told my wife to buy the bike she was looking at because we would just be back to get that one anyway. I knew she liked it. I knew she wanted THAT bike, but she wanted to shop around a bit and do some research. We bought that same bike on the third trip back...I must be fricken Nostradamus.
On the first trip to the bike shop my wife told the salesperson she was looking for a bike that would suit her needs of casual trail riding. After being shown several very capable bikes, Jodi asks if there might be something a little more money. "I am interested in something that could be raced, you know...if I ever wanted to". I saw the salesman wipe a little drool from his chin. "Raced?" I thought. "She has never raced bikes". "She does not even know anyone who races mountain bikes". "Hell, she would not even have time to practice let alone race". WTF is she thinking, is what I am thinking at this point. With a gleam in his eye, and sensing the fulfillment of next months mortgage, the salesperson steered us to the "upgraded component" bikes. These are your $1000+ skull crackers, not the mom and pop roadsters that sell for a measly $600. She got the sales pitch for the big money wheelers, and she was convinced. Once the coolness factor of the high quality, race enabled, tough SOB bike was thoroughly ingrained...there was no turning back. All future comparisons were to be with like models, and my fate was sealed. In her mind, she was burning down the hill neck and neck with another racer; her equipment was going to be the deciding factor. At this point. I recused myself from the process in the interest of marital harmony, and let my now Olympic bike racing wife live her unquestionably never-going-to-happen statement to fruition. We were back again later that month to purchase the bike after evaluating 8 similarly equipped bikes of various manufacture.
Total elapsed time: 56 days, 7 hours, 18 minutes (including checkout).
Percent Satisfaction: 98%
Second Thoughts: YES
Guilt factor: 10%
Spousal approval factor:60%
I did, however, point out the rationale that I would now be using on MY next big ticket purchase.
Me: "Excuse me sir, I am looking for a car. One that will provide reliable transportation to work and for errands, and oh by the way, it should be able to make a credible showing in a NASCAR event if I ever wanted to do that."
Dealer: "Well sir, I can see you know a lot about cars (laughs to himself). Have you ever driven the Ferrari Enzo? Top notch and very race capable..ehem, should you ever want to do that. I know it is a tad more than the lowly Corvette ($225,000 more), but it has upgraded components."
Mangosteen Shmangosteen
Over Easter weekend, my wife was engaged in a conversation with a cousin who, apparently, had just completed a sleep study. She commented to this person that I, too, had just done a sleep study; the results of which indicated that I have a severe case of "restless leg syndrome" and mild apnea. My legs could, evidently, be hooked into the local power grid at night to augment power generation...I flail that bad.
"Oh my", our cousin said. "Have I got the solution for him." "My friend's husband had the same problem until he started taking Xango". "It cured him, and it also prevents cold sores, treats irritable bowel syndrome, fights cancer and many other beneficial duties".
Being the good cousin that she is, Jodi immediately inquired the what, where, when and how of this Xango stuff. Furthermore, being pathologically unable to say no to anyone, she immediately procured some from her for the great price of $30 per bottle. The fact that it was so readily available did not raise any suspicion to Jodi whatsoever. I mean...dealers have been known to promote their products, dear.
Turns out (convenient) that the cousin is a distributor for this product. Xango is the juice made from the whole mangosteen fruit. Mangosteens are native to SE Asia, and have been used medicinally for centuries (albeit by the same persons who use powdered monkey testicles and tincture of lizard penis in their daily health regimen). I am to ingest 1-3 oz. of this product daily for complete relief of my helicopter legs.
Look up Xango on the internet, and you will be immediately reminded of the Amway system of sales. If you read through the entire web site like I did, you will come away with the feeling that there is something fishy about this whole thing. Methinks someone is making lots of money hawking juice that is not much different than any other whole food. I guess in this day and age, a food that at least does not contribute to cancer can be considered health conscious.
I started Saturday night with my first shot. Not bad tasting. From the hype on the Internet, I expected my balls to swell with vigor and my waist to melt away four inches right before my eyes. The only thing I think happened was a slight increase in my hearing sensitivity, as I no longer could listen to my wife talk about mangosteen juice. Go figure. I have 63 shots left to do. We'll keep you posted.
"Oh my", our cousin said. "Have I got the solution for him." "My friend's husband had the same problem until he started taking Xango". "It cured him, and it also prevents cold sores, treats irritable bowel syndrome, fights cancer and many other beneficial duties".
Being the good cousin that she is, Jodi immediately inquired the what, where, when and how of this Xango stuff. Furthermore, being pathologically unable to say no to anyone, she immediately procured some from her for the great price of $30 per bottle. The fact that it was so readily available did not raise any suspicion to Jodi whatsoever. I mean...dealers have been known to promote their products, dear.
Turns out (convenient) that the cousin is a distributor for this product. Xango is the juice made from the whole mangosteen fruit. Mangosteens are native to SE Asia, and have been used medicinally for centuries (albeit by the same persons who use powdered monkey testicles and tincture of lizard penis in their daily health regimen). I am to ingest 1-3 oz. of this product daily for complete relief of my helicopter legs.
Look up Xango on the internet, and you will be immediately reminded of the Amway system of sales. If you read through the entire web site like I did, you will come away with the feeling that there is something fishy about this whole thing. Methinks someone is making lots of money hawking juice that is not much different than any other whole food. I guess in this day and age, a food that at least does not contribute to cancer can be considered health conscious.
I started Saturday night with my first shot. Not bad tasting. From the hype on the Internet, I expected my balls to swell with vigor and my waist to melt away four inches right before my eyes. The only thing I think happened was a slight increase in my hearing sensitivity, as I no longer could listen to my wife talk about mangosteen juice. Go figure. I have 63 shots left to do. We'll keep you posted.
Why am I posting?
Just to get a post in today I suppose. There 'aint a hell of a lot going on.
Lately:
I got a new car.
I made a new pot rack.
I cheated and had a bit of snuff.
I bought some wine.
Easter sucked.
My wife is gone for the night.
My dog is psycho.
That about sums up the last week and two weekends. Maybe this week will be more interesting.
Lately:
I got a new car.
I made a new pot rack.
I cheated and had a bit of snuff.
I bought some wine.
Easter sucked.
My wife is gone for the night.
My dog is psycho.
That about sums up the last week and two weekends. Maybe this week will be more interesting.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Here's the thing about Iran
Preemption. The word is as dirty as a sewer-pipe inspector, and means different things to different people. Here is an incredibly stupid analogy of what it means to me:
I call you every night for a week and tell you I am going to burn down your house. Your neighbor knows me, and tells you on Friday not to worry. I don't have any gasoline, and I'm too stupid to find any. In any case, you have nothing to worry about.
Monday of the following week
I appear on TV announcing I have just taken delivery of a tank truck full of gasoline. I put on a corny display with dancers and confetti for the media, while parading the truck full of gas around for all to see. Your neighbor calls you that night to tell you that my wife would NEVER let me burn your house down, so you really don't have anything to worry about.
Tuesday morning
You wake up to find the tank truck parked outside your home. Your neighbor calls the traffic cop to have it ticketed, figuring the ticket will provoke it's proper parking. After all, it's parked on his shrubs and not on the street, and I need to be shown that parking is only allowed on the street.
Wednesday morning
You wake up to find me pumping hundreds of gallons of gas onto your house. Your neighbor calls for a neighborhood meeting to ascertain just what the hell I am doing. Collectively, you all study my actions while your house is being soaked.
Wednesday Noon
You all decide I should not have the privilege of obtaining gasoline anymore, due to my apparent lack of knowledge of it's proper use as a motor fuel. Collectively, you all call for neighbor Jim's big brother Stu, to slash the tires on my livestock truck as a warning not to continue with my improper use of gasoline.
Wednesday 2PM
I appear on you door step with a zippo blazing wildly. I publicly call for your house to be wiped off the block. Local media covers my ranting, but mostly they do not believe I have been working on obtaining gasoline, much less that I know how to use fire.
Wednesday 5PM
Your house explodes in a fireball of epic proportions, affecting not only your house, but the neighbor's as well. The block is a total loss. The neighbors of MY block dance in the streets and fire off AK-47s at the news of the destruction of you and your neighbors. I die in the blast..A martyr to the cause of my block.
Thursday
Investigators sifting through the rubble, find an answering machine filled with voice messages threatening to burn down your house. It contains messages from every day last week. They conclude you must have fabricated it as evidence for yourself to collect insurance money from an arson fire.
Back to preemption. When would have been the appropriate time to pass all your information to the police for investigation?
When would have been an appropriate time for the police to raid my house looking for evidence?
When would the appropriate time have been to detain or strike at me to prevent the attack the police now know is going to happen?
Answer?
Anytime BEFORE Wednesday 5PM!
I call you every night for a week and tell you I am going to burn down your house. Your neighbor knows me, and tells you on Friday not to worry. I don't have any gasoline, and I'm too stupid to find any. In any case, you have nothing to worry about.
Monday of the following week
I appear on TV announcing I have just taken delivery of a tank truck full of gasoline. I put on a corny display with dancers and confetti for the media, while parading the truck full of gas around for all to see. Your neighbor calls you that night to tell you that my wife would NEVER let me burn your house down, so you really don't have anything to worry about.
Tuesday morning
You wake up to find the tank truck parked outside your home. Your neighbor calls the traffic cop to have it ticketed, figuring the ticket will provoke it's proper parking. After all, it's parked on his shrubs and not on the street, and I need to be shown that parking is only allowed on the street.
Wednesday morning
You wake up to find me pumping hundreds of gallons of gas onto your house. Your neighbor calls for a neighborhood meeting to ascertain just what the hell I am doing. Collectively, you all study my actions while your house is being soaked.
Wednesday Noon
You all decide I should not have the privilege of obtaining gasoline anymore, due to my apparent lack of knowledge of it's proper use as a motor fuel. Collectively, you all call for neighbor Jim's big brother Stu, to slash the tires on my livestock truck as a warning not to continue with my improper use of gasoline.
Wednesday 2PM
I appear on you door step with a zippo blazing wildly. I publicly call for your house to be wiped off the block. Local media covers my ranting, but mostly they do not believe I have been working on obtaining gasoline, much less that I know how to use fire.
Wednesday 5PM
Your house explodes in a fireball of epic proportions, affecting not only your house, but the neighbor's as well. The block is a total loss. The neighbors of MY block dance in the streets and fire off AK-47s at the news of the destruction of you and your neighbors. I die in the blast..A martyr to the cause of my block.
Thursday
Investigators sifting through the rubble, find an answering machine filled with voice messages threatening to burn down your house. It contains messages from every day last week. They conclude you must have fabricated it as evidence for yourself to collect insurance money from an arson fire.
Back to preemption. When would have been the appropriate time to pass all your information to the police for investigation?
When would have been an appropriate time for the police to raid my house looking for evidence?
When would the appropriate time have been to detain or strike at me to prevent the attack the police now know is going to happen?
Answer?
Anytime BEFORE Wednesday 5PM!
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Required Reading
Once again, VDH has proven that a solid historical background cuts deeply to the chase in the 21st Century. This article should be required reading. If you find yourself at odds with the conclusions, catch yourself saying "Bush is the one forcing the Iranians back to the wall" or similar claptrap, then you are simply devoid of historical precedence.
The analysis provided by Hanson is spot on. Not just because it echoes my own thoughts on Western involvement in the Middle East, but because it is so true to historical precedence. Islamofascist countries have not yet fully experienced the 10% craziness of a Western Democracy in the way they would if a nuclear weapon detonates in one of our cities. Not only that, but as VDH points out, they can't even conceive of it. Gulf War I, Afghanistan, Invasion of Iraq...These come close. But they are nothing compared to the total annihilation that would be wrought on a offender with the US and Europe on a total war footing; waging Western style war on Military and infrastructure alike.
The analysis provided by Hanson is spot on. Not just because it echoes my own thoughts on Western involvement in the Middle East, but because it is so true to historical precedence. Islamofascist countries have not yet fully experienced the 10% craziness of a Western Democracy in the way they would if a nuclear weapon detonates in one of our cities. Not only that, but as VDH points out, they can't even conceive of it. Gulf War I, Afghanistan, Invasion of Iraq...These come close. But they are nothing compared to the total annihilation that would be wrought on a offender with the US and Europe on a total war footing; waging Western style war on Military and infrastructure alike.
Monday, April 10, 2006
So Much Happening
Jeff was down this weekend for a wine tasting in town...it was uber lame, and we left early to go home and play with a new toy. The new toy was the X Box 360 he brought down (Jeff, I hope Karin isn't reading this!) and here are my initial impressions.
OMFG!
This thing kicks boatloads of ASS! It is absolutamente awesome. High definition gaming with nearly 10X the power of the original. We spent the better part of 5 hours getting our butts handed to us in Call of Duty 2; and the gameplay was like being immersed in an interactive movie playing out in real-time. The graphics are incredible, and strongly reiterated what I said in a previous post about youngsters playing this as a demo in any Wal-Mart store across the country. You shoot someone in the head in this game, and it explodes with all the blood and visuals hopefully you can only imagine. It is VERY realistic, and much more offensive than some stupid rap CD with a few swear words. Not for the kiddies by any stretch of lax parental prudence, and possibly (I'm not kidding here) more than some people should be exposed to. If you want to know what Grandpa went through on D-Day at Omaha beach, play through the chapter with the Normandy landings on "hardened" difficulty. You will have new found (and much deserved) respect for America's Veterans.
OMFG!
This thing kicks boatloads of ASS! It is absolutamente awesome. High definition gaming with nearly 10X the power of the original. We spent the better part of 5 hours getting our butts handed to us in Call of Duty 2; and the gameplay was like being immersed in an interactive movie playing out in real-time. The graphics are incredible, and strongly reiterated what I said in a previous post about youngsters playing this as a demo in any Wal-Mart store across the country. You shoot someone in the head in this game, and it explodes with all the blood and visuals hopefully you can only imagine. It is VERY realistic, and much more offensive than some stupid rap CD with a few swear words. Not for the kiddies by any stretch of lax parental prudence, and possibly (I'm not kidding here) more than some people should be exposed to. If you want to know what Grandpa went through on D-Day at Omaha beach, play through the chapter with the Normandy landings on "hardened" difficulty. You will have new found (and much deserved) respect for America's Veterans.
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Spring Tune Up
Fishing season is just around the corner. My first tournament is May 20th, but I will be on the water on the season opener May 6th. Last year we had a huge project going on in the yard, so money was more than just a little tight. Because of that, I did only the absolute bare requirements to get ready for a summer of fishing. This year, with the tax refund and a little E-bay profits, it's a veritable orgy of tackle buying to make up the deficit. I'm worse than a woman and her 100 pairs of shoes when it comes to shopping for tackle; I LOVE it!
So far I have spent about $1,000 getting geared up for the summer. Orders are pouring in from Bass Pro Shops and Cabelas every week. I need to keep in mind that I have not even gotten the boat out from it's sleep yet. There is always something to fix or improve on that thing, which means more money.
I should also consider that gas prices are estimated at $3.00+ / gallon by Memorial day. This means the premium for the boat will be more like $3.50 / gallon, and I will be burning much more than last summer. Sheesh, I'm REALLY gonna be broke! I better stop buying so much tackle or it will just sit in my garage without the means to move it around on the water!
So far I have spent about $1,000 getting geared up for the summer. Orders are pouring in from Bass Pro Shops and Cabelas every week. I need to keep in mind that I have not even gotten the boat out from it's sleep yet. There is always something to fix or improve on that thing, which means more money.
I should also consider that gas prices are estimated at $3.00+ / gallon by Memorial day. This means the premium for the boat will be more like $3.50 / gallon, and I will be burning much more than last summer. Sheesh, I'm REALLY gonna be broke! I better stop buying so much tackle or it will just sit in my garage without the means to move it around on the water!
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
On War and Casualties
Casualties in defense of ones own, or someone else's, freedom. By way of comparison:
US casualties in Libya: 2
US casualties in Grenada: 18
US casualties in Panama: 23
US casualties in 1st Gulf War: 138
US casualties in Beirut: 241
US casualties in Korea 33,600
US casualties in Vietnam: 38,194
US casualties in WWI 50,604
Kicking off Operation Overlord and Operation Neptune; the D-Day landings of 1944 cost America 1,465 dead and another 5,138 wounded or missing on the first day of a campaign that was to eventually cost the Allies 425,000 total killed, wounded & missing. This was the campaign to evict Germany from it's NW Europe occupations.
The British, in an attempt to break the stalemate of WWI trenches in 1916, launched a push in the Somme sector that came to be known as the Battle of the Somme. On 1st July, 1916, British deaths alone were 19,240, with an additional 38,000 wounded. That's one nation, one day, in one battle to retake some French soil. The Somme casualty mill would eventually grind over a million combatants all sides killed & wounded, in that campaign alone.
Thus far the US casualty (KIA) toll in the invasion of Iraq stands somewhere around 2,400. This for the liberation of a Country and the defense of freedom; goals active in one shape or form in nearly every previous US military engagement listed above. The numbers are amazingly low given the progress that has been achieved, ridiculously low in comparison to major land offensives in Vietnam, Korea, WWI and WWII. We should be talking about how FEW deaths we have achieved in relation to our stated objectives. Enough with the death figures on the nightly news already. How about some context with that hyperbole? Compare...contrast...EDUCATE!
US casualties in Libya: 2
US casualties in Grenada: 18
US casualties in Panama: 23
US casualties in 1st Gulf War: 138
US casualties in Beirut: 241
US casualties in Korea 33,600
US casualties in Vietnam: 38,194
US casualties in WWI 50,604
Kicking off Operation Overlord and Operation Neptune; the D-Day landings of 1944 cost America 1,465 dead and another 5,138 wounded or missing on the first day of a campaign that was to eventually cost the Allies 425,000 total killed, wounded & missing. This was the campaign to evict Germany from it's NW Europe occupations.
The British, in an attempt to break the stalemate of WWI trenches in 1916, launched a push in the Somme sector that came to be known as the Battle of the Somme. On 1st July, 1916, British deaths alone were 19,240, with an additional 38,000 wounded. That's one nation, one day, in one battle to retake some French soil. The Somme casualty mill would eventually grind over a million combatants all sides killed & wounded, in that campaign alone.
Thus far the US casualty (KIA) toll in the invasion of Iraq stands somewhere around 2,400. This for the liberation of a Country and the defense of freedom; goals active in one shape or form in nearly every previous US military engagement listed above. The numbers are amazingly low given the progress that has been achieved, ridiculously low in comparison to major land offensives in Vietnam, Korea, WWI and WWII. We should be talking about how FEW deaths we have achieved in relation to our stated objectives. Enough with the death figures on the nightly news already. How about some context with that hyperbole? Compare...contrast...EDUCATE!
The Wine Cellar
Jefe's wine cellar is not totally done yet, but here are the pictures of the 95% completed project.
Monday, April 03, 2006
The End of an Era
With great sadness I have to announce the passing of Dayton, our beloved chocolate Labrador. Jodi and I made the most difficult decision ever on Saturday...the decision to euthanize our 14 year old dog. Renal failure had taken it's toll on her body to the point that it was no longer bearable to watch. Near the end, her activities were accomplished only with pain and malaise. It was clear she was not enjoying life with the gusto of only 2-3 months ago, and it was also clear that something must be done.
Her passing marks the end of an era for us. The end of a time in our lives where things were much simpler. Dayton, along with her departed sister Hudson, comprised a pact of love and loyalty that nurtured my wife and I through the first 14 years of our own relationship. They were our life, our passion, and a major means to our happiness. There will never again be something similar, because things are different now. We are older & more experienced. We have been married longer. We are busier, wiser, and in some senses...colder, than when this journey began.
Rest in peace Dayton. Find your sister; and the two of you find a nice spot to lay and watch over us.
Her passing marks the end of an era for us. The end of a time in our lives where things were much simpler. Dayton, along with her departed sister Hudson, comprised a pact of love and loyalty that nurtured my wife and I through the first 14 years of our own relationship. They were our life, our passion, and a major means to our happiness. There will never again be something similar, because things are different now. We are older & more experienced. We have been married longer. We are busier, wiser, and in some senses...colder, than when this journey began.
Rest in peace Dayton. Find your sister; and the two of you find a nice spot to lay and watch over us.
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