Meditations of a Bald, Fat Guy

MEDITATIONS-CELEBRATE LIFE

Three weeks ago, some monsters broke through a wall near Gaza City and started doing monstrous things, not only to unsuspecting Israelis, but to God-fearing people all over the world. Our mostly peaceful lives were shattered by less-than men, hopped up on Captagon, who thought imposing their hate-filled death cult on defenseless people made them heroes in the eyes of other death cult members.

All one has to do to see who is in the right is look at the behavior of those involved. On the side of Hamas, we’ve got people going door to door killing defenseless men, women and children. They did wicked, horrible things that over shadows anything the Vikings ever did on a raid. Here in the US, backers of Hamas and Palestine are bullying any Jews they can find. Hamas supporters were recorded tearing down pictures of missing Israeli Jews. Other death cult supporters banged on the locked doors of a college library, while a college administrator fled out the back, leaving a huddled group of terrified Jewish students in the library.

Set aside, for a moment, the historical lead up to the current war. Who is acting the part of evil? Hamas has, in its official charter, that they seek the eradication of the state of Israel, and all the Jews therein. That cute little chant you may have heard? “From the river to the sea, Palestine shall be free!” The West Bank is on the Jordan River. Gaza is on the sea. What’s in between? Israel. That chant is calling for the eradication of Israel. Who’s on the side of evil? Hamas supporters chant about genocide. There are more Palestinians now than there ever have been. That is the worst genocide ever. “Submit to genocide, be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth.” I missed THAT Bible verse.

After a week of that, it was good that we loaded up our dogs and headed to Evansville for a wedding. One of Robin’s nephews was getting hitched. Nothing like a good-ole wedding to help one forget the cares of the world. I watched the happy couple smile, and all the happy people eating, drinking, dancing, and the dichotomy struck me. The people at the wedding just wanted to live their lives. They were there to see two young, happy people join together to start a family. Life goes on. The Circle of Life, yada, yada, yada…It was a celebration of life.

Not a single person in attendance had any plans to brutalize anyone, terrorize anyone, or make anyone feel unsafe. They had some excellent fried chicken, pulled pork, mashed potatoes, green beans and corn. They had free beer and wine and a cash bar. They had a S’mores bar and gourmet donuts. They had a dollar dance, to raise some money for the young couple. We gave some cash to the Devilish Duo, and they impishly ran over to the dance floor. As I told Christian, their father, “A boy’s never too young to learn that he can get a person for a little cash…”

Roman dances with the groom, my daughter Jessica dances with Stevie.

Neither of those boys have been taught to kill Jews, which is what Hamas teaches Palestinian students. No chants about genocide, no one banging on locked doors while terrified people huddled inside. All around us were young adults Robin and I have seen grow up. They want nothing more than to find someone to love, have their own wedding, and make a life for themselves. Not a single person was looking to kill anyone.

We Americans in Middle America don’t wish ill on the Palestinian people. We’re not impressed with Hamas, ISIS or any other death cult. We want to leave others alone, and be left alone. You know, live life. There is zero interest in death cults.

Best wishes, Noah and Katrina. Peace, and long life. Celebrate it!

MEDITATIONS-THEY KILLED BABIES

Unfortunately, I’ll be going dark with this one, right after I own up to a major error.

First, this is about the horrors of October 7. Hamas, a terrorist group that runs Gaza City, a Palestinian city on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, launched a complex attack on several towns around the borders to Gaza. 1,400 dead and over 3,000 injured later, Israel stands on the brink of a major regional war, with Hamas, Hezbollah in Lebanon, and Iran. The US has two carrier groups in the Mediterranean. That’s the big, geopolitical picture.

Let’s zoom in a bit, to a kibbutzim called Kfar Aza. This kibbutzim is directly east of Gaza City. A kibbutzim is a communal village, a manner of living that date back to Israel’s founding. For those raised in a kibbutzim, their home represented comfort, security. That changed in Kfar Aza on October 7.

Hamas militants stormed into the kibbutzim, and forever changed the hearts of Israelis.

People who know me might describe me as nice, easy-going, friendly, able to get along with everyone. For that, I blame my wife, Robin. This angel has certainly appealed to my better nature. I’ve overcome a terrible temper, one that has seen me put a person in the hospital, and she helped me become the award-winning educator I became. She has definitely smoothed my rough edges.

If you are a disciple of Carl Jung, my archetype is Guardian. Much of what I have done as an adult was to protect others. The Army Reserves, coaching, teaching, administration, school safety. I’m always looking out for the safety of others. So while my temper is buried, I still travel some sometimes dark roads in my mind, trying to get tender-hearted educators to take safety seriously.

In 2013, ISIS became a thing on the world stage. I watched the videos of the hideous things they did to other human beings, and they touched the dark in my heart. All I felt for them was utter contempt. In all my days I never, truly wished for the death of others. Until those turds. Nothing like watching a man burned to death in a cage to get you to understand the depths of evil in men’s hearts.

This led to me violating one of my own personal and professional rules. 48 hours. When something happens, wait 48 hours before you start opining on it. The initial news that comes out of an event is not always correct, and 48 hours lets the actual information develop. This is important in the field of school safety, as decisions made emotionally can cost a lot of money initially, and later in litigation. A story made the rounds after Sandy Hook of a teacher who faced the shooter and saved her kids. Nope. Parkland, FL. The shooter pulled the fire alarm and got all the students out into the hallways. Nope. Wait for information to develop. Safe Havens International prides itself on an even, risk-based approach to school safety that requires study, study and more study.

The reports coming in from Kfar Aza were horrific, and I felt myself getting incensed. Then came the report of beheaded babies. I was over it. I won’t recount the profanities I uttered throughout the house, but it turned both of my grandsons into teenagers on the spot, it was that salty. I texted Robin that 40 babies were beheaded. I was ready to kit up and go slag some animals. In my mind.

What I actually saw was a CBS report, “Weiss told CBS News that more than one of the Israeli soldiers who first reached Kfar Aza reported finding “beheaded children of varying ages, ranging from babies to slightly older children,” along with adults who had also been dismembered.

Yossi Landau, the head of operations for the southern region of Zaka, Israel’s volunteer civilian emergency response organization, told CBS News he saw with his own eyes children and babies who had been beheaded.”

Now, to be sure, a single beheading is horrible, and I hate having to think that one beheading is better than 40 babies, but wisdom wins out. We need to operate on what we know. A person who wants to quibble over the number has definitely lost sight of the bigger picture. Demons on earth were torturing and killing innocents. The manner which they did it was disgusting, and I am past caring whether it was 1 or 40. Anything above zero is not acceptable.

I watched various news agencies, CNN, Fox News, Al Jazeera. They all mentioned the beheadings, then the story…went away. The counter-push was on. Despite the number of people I saw recounting what they saw, it soon became “apparent” that the beheadings story was a hoax. Except for all the survivors who said otherwise, including some footage from Hamas fighters themselves. Hamas kidnapped men, women and children, they raped women and children, often in front of their friends and family. It was truly ISIS-like. The video of the Hamas thug dragging a woman out of the back of his vehicle into the back seat, with a mass of blood between her legs, and Hamas cemented themselves on my shit list.

My shit list is metaphorical, of course. I’m 59-years old, and Crohn’s Disease and years of drug therapies have given me the body of a 70-year old. I will sit on my front porch and yell at Hamas to get off my lawn, but I ain’t doing much else. But it does put me in the mood to see all the worst happen to them. That I won’t lose any sleep over. Those jerks use human shields. They take materials meant for the Palestinian people and turn them into weapons of war. Their official charter has spelled out, in black and white, that their primary goal is the eradication of the Jewish people. Not a Palestinian state for the people they were elected to lead, but genocide.

What’s bothered me more than that? The number of US citizens who are supporting Hamas. Nothing makes my heart hurt as much as free people who are publicly supporting a terrorist organization that rapes women and children, has gone door-to-door murdering peaceful, innocent people, and beheaded children.

War sucks. It sucks what it does to people. But it doesn’t suck as bad as Hamas. Screw those guys. My hope is that one day soon, Hamas’ lifeless bodies will join those of ISIS on the dung heap of history. Hamas says they celebrate death. So did ISIS.

I celebrate life.

Shalom, my Jewish brothers and sisters.

DAWGS ON A MISSION

I am back up in Milwaukee, assessing some public schools in the Greater Milwaukee Area. Now, anytime I am doing assessments, I put some miles on my feet. This time was no different. By the time I reached Friday of my first week, I had walked over 20 miles that week. My neuropathy keeps me from feeling my legs from my knees down, but I was feeling my feet. As we said in the Infantry, “My dawgs were barkin’!“

So when I got a text from my boss asking me if I would be able to assess a stadium that evening, I didn’t want to. My feet and knees hurt, I was tired and I was hungry. Then there was an incident last week involving Milwaukee Lutheran High School, less than a mile from where I’ve been conducting assessments. Sore, tired, hungry and not wanting to get shot at, I gathered up my courage and told my boss, “Sure!” That’s how I roll. I was like Pyle in Full Metal Jacket, “I am. In a world. Of shit!”

I asked if I would be provided a ballistic vest, and was told, “No.” I asked if I was being provided with life insurance and was told, “Aren’t you just precious?” Of course, it was a rivalry game during Homecoming, and it was the night of the Harvest Moon. Things just kept getting better and better.

I finished assessing my last elementary school around 4:00pm, and drove home to grab a quick dinner. I headed out to the stadium around 5:30pm. I had put the stadium assessment form on my iPad, so it got that, and my camera, out and got down to some serious assessing. By 6:00pm, the teams arrived. The home team arrived first, then the visitors. Most of the people I met were busy, but friendly and helpful.

The district made the decision after COVID to only allow students of the participating schools to get into the games. They did not accept cash at the ticket gate. You had to purchase the tickets online, then have a student ID to get in. Younger students could only get in with an adult, and they kept the home team supporters separated from the visiting team supporters. I was rather surprised, because the school was taking a very significant financial hit by their ticket policies, but they were more interested in the safety of everyone. Adults could get in, of course. We’re adults, and we don’t make bad judgements and do stupid things. Bah-ha-ha-ha! But seriously…

The crowd was pretty good. It was a beautiful night, it was Homecoming and a rivalry game. Through the first three quarters, the four School Resource Officers (SROs), the four security guards, and the numerous Event Staff didn’t have any issues. Then the fourth quarter shenanigans began.

The home team was getting spanked by the visitors, and I kept overhearing radio calls of near fights at the visitor stands. The staff were quick to respond and we were able to get through the game with no teen angsty stuff overflowing. I stepped out into the parking lot to see how they would manage the traffic flow away from the stadium.

Years of being a middle school assistant principal have helped me develop some finely tuned antenna for trouble. I heard a burst of noise from the east side of the stadium, and thought, “Here we go!” I then saw a crowd around my parked RAV4 and my barking dawgs were forgotten as I was about to go bust some heads. I’ll be damned if I’m letting some teenage hotheads damage my baby.

I was diverted by a minor scuffle that was being handled by school staff. Some teens in black had been throwing punches at a single, smaller boy who was so frustrated he was crying. He was in the clutches of a female staff member who was protecting him from himself. Other staff members were herding the black-clad teens away. I’m sure they were fine, upstanding young men who were just trying to wish the young man a good evening…

I turned back toward my RAV4 and saw two of the SROs taking a young man away in handcuffs. I saw two other SROs in a scuffle with a black-clad teen, right in front of my car. A person reached in and tried to pull him away from the officers, but they weren’t having any of that. As I watched, something fell off of the teen, and a younger teen swooped in and scooped it up. It looked like a black bandana. I thought, “Nah, you don’t get to come in and scoop up evidence.” Something else fell to the ground, one of the body cams off of one of the officers. The younger teen started to swoop in again and I stepped in front of him. He jumped up and bristled, and I nearly burst out laughing at how quickly he turned docile. I’m 6’1″, 325lbs, and at that point the irritation of having to deal with this foolishness at the end of a long day was clearly on my face, which ain’t that pretty to begin with. He took off, and he wasn’t slow about it at all.

I turned and tried to pick the body cam off the ground, but decided that having two cops and a suspect land on top of me was not a dignified way to end my day, so I stepped back and just kept an eye out for any other jackals. They were trying hard not to overly man-handle the suspect, which made for a longer struggle, but the finally got the cuffs on him, to which he plaintively asked, “Why you cuffin’ me?”

By the time it was done, there were 5 police cars and a couple of Sheriff’s Deputies on hand to make sure everyone else got out incident-free. Turns out the guys in black were from another high school. They couldn’t get into the game, so they waited on their target to come out of the stadium. I learned that night that, apparently, no one uses the term “gang” anymore, as it’s too negative.

Well, Karen, the word “gang” is supposed to be negative, as it’s a group of people involved in criminal behavior. Now I’m supposed to care that I’m using a negative word to describe a negative group of guys who lied in wait to jump an unsuspecting person leaving a high school football game? Nope. A whole lotta nope. This had “gang” all over it. Colors, criminal conduct. Gangs. There, I said it, and I’m-a not takin’ it back, ya hear?

A young man had the right idea. He was wearing a sweatshirt that read, “Anti-Social Social Club.” A gang by any other name…

At least I got back to my house, un-shot, and got to put my dawgs up. Their barkin’ was irritating me.

MEDITATIONS-9/21/2021

I have come the conclusion that I am a recovering sociopath. Bear with me for a bit, as I will explain. I’ve been watching the series Signs of a Psychopath on Max. They have actual police interrogations of people after being arrested for something heinous. It is definitely NOT for the faint-of-heart! The show includes interviews with forensic psychologists, and other experts, that break down what is being seen in the interviews.

I can, without reservation, state that I am not a psychopath. I don’t have a history of bed-wetting, past the normal age, and I don’t have a history of harming animals or setting fires. Thus, I am not in danger of becoming a serial killer. But the probability is never zero. (Just kidding, but seriously…)

That being said, the introspective side of me started thinking about the various descriptions given, in light of my personal history. To start, lets take a look at the differences between a sociopath and a psychopath, and how I rate myself.

Sociopaths

Make it clear they do not care how others feel – Often
Behave in hot-headed and impulsive ways – Often
Prone to fits of anger and rage – Sometimes
Recognize what they are doing but rationalize their behavior – Often
Cannot maintain a regular work and family life – Nope
Can form emotional attachments, but it is difficult – Sometimes

Psychopaths

Pretend to care – Sometimes
Display cold-hearted behavior – Sometimes
Fail to recognize other people’s distress – Sometimes
Have relationships that are shallow and fake – Nope
Maintain a normal life as a cover for criminal activity – Nope
Fail to form genuine emotional attachments – Nope
May love people in their own way – Sometimes

(Marcia Purse, VeryWellMind)

So clearly, I tend more to sociopathy than psychopathy. To muddy the waters a bit, let’s throw in narcissism.

Narcissists have:

A grandiose sense of self-importance (i.e., exaggerates their achievements and abilities) – Sometimes
A preoccupation with the idea of gaining success, power, love, and physical attractiveness – Sometimes
A belief that they are special or high status and can only be understood by similar people or should only associate with those people (or institutions) – Sometimes
A need for excessive admiration – Sometimes
A sense of entitlement and expectation that others will comply or give them favorable treatment – Sometimes
Exploits other people for personal gain – Sometimes
Lacks empathy for others – Sometimes
Envies others or believes that other people envy them – Sometimes
Arrogant behaviors and attitudes – Sometimes

(Marcia Purse, VeryWellMind)

After reading this, I wonder how I’ve made friends, and have stayed married for 34 years. I do have a few friends, and Robin has a lot to do with the longevity of our marriage. There was a time in my life that these traits were so strong that Robin stated, “If I had met you when you were acting like that, we would have never gotten married.” All I can do is hang my head in shame and say, “That’s fair.” I wouldn’t have married me either, even if I loved myself. I was, to put it bluntly, a bit of a prat.

It can be fair to say we all start that way. Look at children. They are raging, narcissistic sociopaths that have to be trained out of it by their parents. This is why the optimal family unit is a mother and father raising the children. The mother brings nurturing into the child’s life, and the father brings Dad Jokes, pranks, and harassment, all in the guise of ‘toughening up’ the child. It takes two adults to beat, cajole, and harangue the child out of its natural narcissistic, sociopathic state, into a somewhat less narcissistic, sociopathic state that has a chance to mellow into a productive member of society. Sure, other types of families can make this happen, but it’s often harder.

Look at my two grandsons, Roman and Stevie. I call them the Devilish Duo for a reason. Watching them scream at the top of their lungs over who sits on what side of the one office chair they use to watch videos and play Minecraft (Don’t get me started on their screen time!), and I feel like I’ve been transported into a new episode of Signs of a Psychopath. All that’s missing is the blood-spray analysis, the frantic call to 911, and the scenes where the body(ies) were dumped. Both of my grandsons are good kids. I love them both and would give my life to protect them, but, c’mon.

Brain development doesn’t conclude until the mid-twenties, so it’s not surprising that the behavior of young adults continues to exhibit sociopathic, narcissistic traits. I present to you as evidence frat parties, drunk driving and diversion programs. As one gets older, experience, the exhaustion of advancing age and hard-won experience serves to beat these tendencies down. These behaviors are why religion is so important. Isn’t that special?

An external system of right and wrong serves to guide the formation of the internal system of right and wrong. My parents saw to it that I was raised a Lutheran, and certainly reinforced a sense of right and wrong. It didn’t stop me from doing wrong, but it did provide a compass to find my way back. After a plethora of whippings and an eon of groundings, that is.

Perhaps that’s the lesson for today. We need that concrete, moral compass. When children see their parents follow something greater than themselves, it’s easier for them to do the same. When parents fail, and as humans they will, we need that ultimate, supernatural source of right and wrong to fall back upon. Religions are a ready source of educational material. Parables, historical information, and usually centuries of written thought on various aspects of the religious beliefs and practices help shape, and strengthen, our moral compass.

My parents made sure that I knew right from wrong, and what needed to be done after I had done wrong. I did the same for my children, and my daughter and son-in-law are trying to do the same for their two Hell-spawns.

We certainly don’t want them as an episode in Signs of a Psychopath.

And leave my dead mother out of this!

NEWSDESK-9/20/2023

– FBI Seeking Individual Who May Have Information Regarding the Identity of a Child Sexual Assault Victim
– West Virginia man charged with failing to register as sex offender
– Church Rock Man Pleads Guilty to Sexual Abuse (Of a minor)
– Fruitland Man Sentenced to 8 Years in Prison for Sexual Abuse (Of a minor)
– FBI Seeking Individual Who May Have Information Regarding the Identity of a Child Sexual Assault Victim
– U.S. Attorney Charges 40-Year-Old Man With Coercion And Enticement Of A Minor
– Former Phoenix Resident Sentenced to Prison for Producing Child Pornography Involving Three Minors
– Green Bay Pastor Pleads Guilty to Online Crime Targeting a Venezuelan Child
– Man in Walker County sentenced for cyberstalking via social media (Child pornography)
– Henderson County Man Sentenced for Child Obscenity Violations
– Eagle River Man Pleads Guilty to Child Pornography, Sexual Abuse of a Minor
– Federal Jury Convicts Vestavia Man on Child Pornography Charges
– Vandalia man pleads guilty to possessing bulk amounts of fentanyl within elementary school zone
– Repeat Child Predator Sentenced to More Than 10 Years in Prison
– Tucson Man Sentenced to 10 Years for Possession of Child Sex Abuse Material
– Monroeville Man who Shot at Police Receives Statutory Maximum Sentence of 10 Years in Federal Prison (Minor victim)
– Des Moines Man Sentenced to Six Years in Prison for Child Pornography Offense
– Indiana Man Sentenced to 30 Years in Federal Prison for Interstate Violation of Protection Order and Transportation of Child Pornography
– Columbus Woman Sentenced to Ten Years in Prison for Possessing Child Sexual Abuse Material
– Missouri Man Accused of Recording Sex with Minor
– Repeat Sacramento Sex Offender Sentenced to 10 Years for Possessing Child Pornography
– Prior Sex Offender Pleads Guilty To New Charges (Minor victims)
– Billings Man Sentenced To Prison For Coercion And Enticement (Minor victims)
– Two Men Arrested for Child Exploitation
– Bellevue Man Sentenced to 110 Months for Distributing Child Pornography
– Joshua Adam Schulte Convicted After Trial Of Multiple Child Pornography Crimes
– Stephens County Woman Pleads Guilty to Child Abuse in Indian Country
– Youth Pastor Pleads Guilty To Child Pornography Charge
– Pinedale Man Sentenced to 12 Years in Prison for Sexual Abuse (Minor victims)
– Boston Doctor Indicted for Exposing Himself to Minor Sitting Next to Him on Flight
– Former Bronx Public Charter School Teacher Pleads Guilty In Connection With Sexual Abuse Of Five Former Students
– Florida youth pastor, soccer coach separately accused of sex crimes involving minors
– Over 600 tips lead to arrest of 70-year-old Brownsburg man reportedly possessing child pornography, police say
– Teen kicked out of house by dad is kidnapped on streets, forced into sex slavery: prosecutor
– ‘Why don’t you like it?’: New Castle man charged after reportedly molesting 5-year-old girl
– Indy man charged with neglect after child shoots, kills 4-year-old sister in Cumberland
– Woman arrested in connection with stabbing of infant at hotel in Castleton area
– Former basketball coach in California sentenced to 150 years in prison for sexually assaulting 4 girls
– Former Marion County sheriff’s deputy busted for possessing child porn

MEDITATIONS-ANOTHER FAREWELL 9/15/23

Robin and I got up early this morning, had our Donut Friar breakfast with coffee, and set out for Clingman’s Dome. The Dome is an hour’s drive away, with the route taking us through the heart of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. The Mission? Spread more of my parent’s ashes. All it was going to take was a half-mile up the summit of Clingman’s Dome, the highest mountain in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

As we drove through the park, we passed through banks of fog, a few turkeys, and a lot of beautiful scenery. In some spaces, the sun came through the fog in sun beams, creating scenes of ethereal beauty. Robin got to enjoy the scenery, as I was driving and didn’t want to kill us.

We got to the parking lot around 9:15am. The area was swathed in mist, and we had beaten the crowds, so there was muffled silence all around. Robin decided she was going to stay in the car. She has MS, and she didn’t want to walk up that path. She went up there two years ago, so she knew what it looked like. I made sure I had the tube of Maw and Paw’s ashes, and headed north, up the trail. It’s paved, so I didn’t have to worry about my footing. What I worry about is my aortic aneurysm. It’s stable, but I clearly don’t need to tax it too much.

The Clingman’s Dome parking lot, looking north. I think.

I walked up the trail, occasionally checking my Apple Watch to see what my heart rate was. When it went over 120, I stopped until it got back down below 110. There were benches spaced out along the way. Otherwise, I just stopped walking and learning on my staff. Yes, I had a staff. I could say I was a hot Gandalf, but since I have a face made for radio, that would be a lie. The fog wreathed the trees, and the trail, with a silky essence that shortened the world to mere yards. The fog also muffled sound. It was silent, except for the occasional talking as other hikers passed by. Even the talking was hushed. Clingman’s Dome was a cathedral that morning. Given why I was there, it seemed appropriate.

Where the Appalachian Trail intersects the Clingman’s Dome Trail near the summit.

Approximately 150ft from the summit, the Appalachian Trail crosses over Clingman’s Dome. Paw, before he died, had made plans to hike the Appalachian Trail from start to finish. He had made purchases over the years, procuring what gear he would need for the endeavor. He planned out how it would work, even going so far as to plot out the first few legs of the hike. Unfortunately life, as it often does, reared its ugly head and he was diagnosed with pulmonary fibrosis. He had hiked sections of the trail before, but he never fulfilled his quest. Thus I thought it fitting that he and Maw became a permanent part of the Appalachian Trail. All that was needed was to find the right spot.

Thus far, Robin and I picked locations to spread their ashes. She took some of their ashes to Hawaii when she went with her mother and sisters to visit family on Oahu. I spread some of their ashes in the Fairy Glen in Betws-y-Coed, Wales. Once we find a location, we just looked for a place that jumped out at us. Robin found a beautiful waterfall that had some lovely flowers. She poured the ashes near a rock, away from the path. In the Fairy Glen, I climbed down into a river gorge, and stupidly climbed over a bunch of rocks in the river, and found a suitable spot on a boulder to pour their ashes.

I took a left onto the trail, and took it down the trail a bit. As I went in, there was a place that looked like someone else had poured some ashes. It didn’t look like they had spent any time doing it. In fact, it looked like a crime scene. It was too close to the Clingman’s Dome Trail for my liking, so I went further down the trail. 350ft from the summit, I found a place where the trail widened out, overlooking a wide valley to the west.

It felt right, so I looked for a likely spot. There was a small gulley coming down from the summit. It flowed over the trail, then continued down the mountain. Perfect. The rains would wash the ashes down the mountain, overlooking the valley. I knelt down and poured the ashes onto the rocks. Then, to keep it from looking like the crime scene I saw earlier, I built up a small cairn over the ashes. I stepped back, and took in the bigger picture. The cairn blended in with the scene. It was just the way Maw and Paw would want it. Unobtrusive, but situated in a beautiful scene with a view. Yes, I think they would have approved.

The view of the valley to the west of the Clingman’s Dome summit.

The view to the north,
what little I could see.

After laying the ashes, I went up to the observation tower at the summit. The top was shrouded in clouds and mist, so the view was limited. I walked around the observation deckThe past time I was up here, there was hoarfrost all over the trees. It was a bit warmer this time. There were quite a few Black-Capped Chickadees flitting through the trees. They were too active for me to get a picture, crafty little buggers. I had a chat with a few people at the top, and made my way back down the trail. Gravity helped, and the trip down was uneventful.

There was no need to stop along the way, but I did, here and there, to enjoy the views. The clouds were beginning to peel away, giving me glimpses of the surrounding valleys. Along the way, I noticed bear sign on the side of the path. Some were fresh, most likely from earlier that morning. As the people got more numerous, they moved away. Just as well. I had encountered a black bear decades ago in Wisconsin, while on a map course in Fort McCoy. We left each other alone. I did not want to re-create the experience. I think I could take one, if I had to have a Revenant moment, but I didn’t want to find out. Thankfully, I didn’t.

I made my way down to the start of the trail to the Visitor’s Center. Robin woke up from her nap and met me there. We moseyed around, looking at the shirts, mugs and curios. I ended up buying a bluegrass CD. There was a book on the Trail of Tears I was interested in, but I was sure I could find it cheaper on Amazon. Turns out I was right. $5 cheaper. We made the purchase of the CD and got back into the car for the trip back.

The Cherokee call Clingman’s Dome “Kuwahi“, which means ‘Mulberry Place’. They believe the bears gather there in the fall. The bears dance before going to their dens for the winter. Kuwahi is near the mythical lake called Atagahi. Hunters could not find it. Wounded bears could submerge themselves in the water, and come out healed. The lake teemed with fish and fowl. Cherokee legend has it that the lake could only be found by following the sound of wings of the birds as they flew by heading to the lake. Those that found the lake without following the sound only found a dry mudflat. Robin didn’t care. She wanted to get back to civilization.

I had made it this far in the trip without triggering a climate-altering, vanilla-smelling vortex of death, so I dutifully took her back to civilization.

Somewhere up the mountain, I could hear laughter that sounded suspiciously like Maw and Paw. Rest well, you two.

Maw, Paw and Babe on the Appalachian Trail in Pennsylvania.

MEDITATIONS-9/14/23

Robin and I are in Gatlinburg, TN. Her sister and brother-in-law were using a time share with some friends. The friends had to leave early, and her sister asked if we wanted to finish out the week. We said, “Yes!” so last night we drove the six hours down from Indianapolis, and here we are!

This morning, Robin and I got up, and went to breakfast at Pancake Pantry, an institution in Gatlinburg. Robin got the wild berry crêpes, and I had the Swiss chocolate chip pancakes. It did not disappoint!

After breakfast we did a little shopping. Robin wanted to get some custom salt from this shop she remembered from our trip here a couple of years ago. I served as the mule, carrying our hard-won booty from shop to shop. I was able to get a few cigars for myself. (Don’t tell my doctor!)

Some sketchy bear was putting the moves on my gal! We’re going home with some new bearskin rugs…

We naturally started looking for some things for our grandsons, Roman and Stevie. We found an honest-to-goodness magic shop, Doc’s Magic Shop. When we entered, a nice, elderly gentleman, Doc Waddell himself, greeted us. He showed us a couple of tricks on the counter, and he was pretty good. He did a trick with a pen sticking through a dollar bill. Robin was staring right at it, knew it was a trick, and still couldn’t figure it out. He gave her the pen and let her look it over. It was an actual pen that could write, but she couldn’t see how he was doing it. He did it three times before I saw it. There was a magnet on the back of the pen, and he held a false pen head in the crook of his little finger. Even knowing how he did it, I was still impressed.

We bought a couple of tricks for Roman, and a few Lego characters for Stevie. We picked up some doughnuts from the Donut Friar, another Gatlinburg institution, for breakfast on Friday morning.

Just some of the delicious offerings in the Donut Friar.

Robin and I went back to the resort. Robin spent the rest of the day chatting with her sister Janet. I talked some with Eddie, Janet’s husband. We cooked up some teriyaki pork chops with green beans and Brussels sprouts, and had a nice dinner. Four adults with no children. Heaven on Earth! After dinner, Robin and Janet talked some more. Eddie and I went out onto the balcony and had a cigar. I had mine with Salted Caramel bourbon from Ole Smoky Tennessee Distillery . It was a good way to end the day.

Tomorrow we are going to Clingman’s Dome. The Appalachian Trail crosses near the summit, and I will spread some of my parent’s ashes near there.

Meditations-9/11/23

I woke up today and thought to myself, “Man! 22 years!” The common refrain is, “Never Forget,” but the further we get from September 11, 2001, the greater the number of people who were not alive when this happened. My fear is that there are people who are in the process of not only forgetting what happened that day, but the impact that event had on our society as well.

I was driving, on my way to work, when the DJ’s of the Bob & Tom Show (The top morning radio show in Indianapolis), broke in and announced that there was an explosion in one of the Twin Towers in New York City. By the time I arrived at my school on the south side of Indy, the reports were coming in that an airplane had flown into the tower. I parked and went inside.

They had a TV turned on in the Media Center, and a crowd of teachers were around the TV. I got there just as the second plane crashed into the second tower. I looked at the staff and said, “This is an attack.” We stood around the TV, stunned as we watched the horror unfold. Then, it was time to greet the students. so we left the TV on, and went to our respective duty stations.

Normally, I supervised students being dropped off by the school buses. Judy Livingston, the school Principal, asked me to post at the main entrance. There was a circular drive there, and parents would come down a long drive, enter the circle, drop their students off at the main entrance, then leave.

At the time, I wore a black cowboy hat. I stand 6’1″, and at the time I was around 230lbs. That hat made me appear bigger, and Judy thought I would project calmness and security when parents arrived. She was right, as she usually was. Parents would stop and ask if classes were still in session, and I would tell them they were. They would ask if their children would be safe, and I told them there was no safer place to be. They would nod, drop their children off, and leave. Schools were canceled the rest of the week, but on that day of chaos and fear, we removed one source of anxiety for those parents.

After the children had gone for the day, Judy dismissed the staff, and we all went home to watch the horror on the TV. New York City, Washington, D.C., and Shanksville, PA. All were crime scenes of the largest terror attack in our history. Watching the towers come down was horrifying. Hearing about the people who jumped was terrifying. The thing that really hit home for me was when I went out to my car and was struck by the silence. Indianapolis International Airport was located on the southwest side of Indy, right off of I-465. The school was generally under the flight path of departures, and the roar of jet engines became background noise. Until that day. That day I looked up. No planes, no contrails, no engine noise. Fittingly, it seemed that America had gone silent to mourn its losses.

Air flight changed that day, due to 9/11. The TSA and Department of Homeland Security were formed due to 9/11. We invaded Afghanistan to punish that country, governed by the Taliban, for sheltering the terrorists, due to 9/11. Passengers get involved in issues on flights, due to 9/11. Our intelligence agencies grew more powerful, due to 9/11. Our government grew larger, due to 9/11. We started the War on Terror, a conflict that has gone on since, due to 9/11. We invaded Iraq, due to 9/11.

Our society had mixed emotions. Toby Keith sang, in Courtesy of the Red, White and Blue, that “we’ll put a boot in your ass, it’s the American way”. Alan Jackson sang Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning, where he reminded us that “Faith, hope, and love are some good things He gave us, And the greatest is love”. Darryl Worley sang, in Have You Forgotten, “Have you forgotten how it felt that day, To see your homeland under fire, And her people blown away”.

The movie 12 Strong, starring Chris Hemsworth, told the fascinating story of the first U.S. Special Forces operators to enter Afghanistan after 9/11. In World Trade Center, starring Nicholas Cage, we saw the inspiring story of the last living survivors pulled from Ground Zero. In Flight 93, we saw the heroic story of the passengers who fought back against the terrorists, causing the plane to crash into a field in Shanksville, PA, instead of it’s intended target in Washington, D.C.

We lost a significant number of patriots on 9/11. We started the War on Terror. We invaded Afghanistan and Iraq. We created new governmental agenies. We passed the sweeping Patriot Act. And we made today Patriot’s Day. It’s our day to reflect on what happened, remember the 2,977 lives lost in the four attacks including 470 first responders and military personnel, the estimated 7,052 US military combatants, over 8,100 US military contractors and more than 14,800 US-allied coalition troops killed in the wars as of 2023. As a country, we still remember Pearl Harbor, both the event and the actions afterwards. We will do the same with 9/11.

We must never forget.

I hear people saying we don’t need this war
I say there’s some things worth fighting for
What about our freedom and this piece of ground
We didn’t get to keep ’em by backing down
They say we don’t realize the mess we’re getting in
Before you start your preaching
Let me ask you this my friend

Have you forgotten how it felt that day
To see your homeland under fire
And her people blown away
Have you forgotten when those towers fell
We had neighbors still inside
Going through a living hell
And you say we shouldn’t worry ’bout Bin Laden
Have you forgotten

They took all the footage off my TV
Said it’s too disturbing for you and me
It’ll just breed anger that’s what the experts say
If it was up to me I’d show it everyday
Some say this country’s just out looking for a fight
After 9/11 man I’d have to say that’s right

I’ve been there with the soldiers
Who’ve gone away to war
And you can bet that they remember
Just what they’re fighting for

Have you forgotten all the people killed
Some went down like heros in that Pennsylvania field
Have you forgotten about our Pentagon
All the loved ones that we lost
And those left to carry on
Don’t you tell me not to worry about Bin Laden
Have you forgotten

Have you forgotten
Have you forgotten
Written by Darryl Worley and Wynn Marble
Have You Forgotten? lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Reservoir Media Management Inc, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc

NEWSDESK-9/6/2023

– Gallup Man Pleads Guilty to Distribution and Possession of Child Pornography
– Ringleader of a Child Porn Enterprise Gets Life
– Wyoming County Man Sentenced To 300 Months In Prison For Production Of Child Pornography
– Antlers Resident Sentenced For Aggravated Sexual Abuse(Child under 12)
– Evansville Man Sentenced to 21 Years in Federal Prison After Recording Himself Sexually Abusing a 4-Year-Old
– Lee Man Sentenced to More Than 11 Years in Prison For Child Exploitation
– Sarasota Man Sentenced To 10 Years For Possessing Child Exploitation Material
– Boone, N.C. Man Is Sentenced To Prison For Possession Of Child Pornography
– Man Sentenced to 70 Months in Nationwide Sextortion Case
– Fort Washakie Man Sentenced to 10 Years in Prison for Felony Child Abuse
– Canadian Man Charged with Traveling to Albany in Attempt to Meet 10-Year-Old for Sex
– Danville Man Sentenced to Eight Years for Child Porn Possession
– Michigan Man Sentenced to Prison for Enticement of a Minor
– Colorado Springs Man Sentenced to 25 Years in Federal Prison for Production of Child Pornography
– Tylertown Man Sentenced to over Ten Years in Prison for Possession of Child Pornography
– New Jersey Man Sentenced to 15 Years in Federal Prison After Grooming Minor Online and Transporting Her Across State Lines via Uber for Sex
– Former Plumas County Man Sentenced to 6 Years in Prison for Receipt of Child Pornography
– Portsmouth Man Pleads Guilty to Sexually Coercing a Minor
– Tonawanda Man Pleads Guilty To Child Pornography Charge
– Pearl River Man Pleads Guilty to Production of Child Pornography
– Married teacher sexually preyed on student after posting PSA about consent: prosecutors
– Chicago teacher charged with attempted production of child porn after he was found with minor at Miami airport
– Maryland man arrested for alleged sexual solicitation of a minor: police

MEDITATIONS-9/5/2023

My Labor Day weekend was rather relaxed. This is adult-speak for “I didn’t do anything productive.” Part of that was due to some type of issue I had on Saturday.

I had received numerous mosquito bites on both knees, my left elbow, and my hands, as well as assorted bites elsewhere. The area of multiple bites became very itchy, swollen and painful, while the single bites just itched. I was also out of it. I felt light-headed and zoned-out, almost like I had been drinking. Robin mentioned that I appeared to be “out of it.” Sunday was a little better, although I still felt a bit light-headed. Monday was better, with the itching down to a manageable level.

I’ve never had a reaction to mosquito bites like that before. Many, many moons ago, I had a similar reaction to numerous chigger bites I received during an ROTC FTX (Field Training Exercise). I had numerous chigger bites in the groin area, and the subsequent itching and reaction led to a trip to the ER for sedation. What can I say? I am one of those genetically gifted buffets for biting insects. And I chose the Infantry, and camping and hiking…nowadays I just like sitting on my back patio, watching the hummingbirds, the flocks of compsognathus sparrows that eat everything in my bird feeders, and the numerous flowers in my care. And I get eaten alive.

We have a company called Mosquito Joes come out every three weeks to treat for mosquitos. They normally work out well. Lately, however… I imagine that the Skyrizi I take for my Crohn’s Disease has something to do with it, but I don’t know that for sure. They treated this morning. Hopefully, by the time the heat breaks I’ll be able to get back outside. The mosquitos will be waiting, I’m sure.

I went out last night to lay some spare ribs on the grill for dinner, then came back inside. In that short period of time, I got bitten on my right wrist. It’s slightly swollen and sore, as well as itchy. I’m, guessing I’ve developed an allergy to mosquito venom? We have Asian Tiger Mosquitos, and these little turds are nasty, if somewhat easy to identify. They bite during the day, too. You would think that the chemical concoction in my bloodstream would cause these blood-suckers to explode upon ingestion, but no. Apparently it makes my blood equivalent to Nectar of the Gods.

One thing I did do was to harvest my sunflowers. We had about a dozen this year, and they grew to impressive heights. The tallest being over 8 feet. This was a variety with small seeds. What I ended up doing was harvesting the flowers with seeds and piling them up under the bird feeders for the birds and squirrels. At one point I looked out back. My oldest grandson, Roman, and his friend Oliver were sitting at a patio table, with a pile of the flowers in front of them. They were using rocks to beat the seeds out of the flowers, and were harvest what seeds they could to snack on. I thought about saying something, but, a) They weren’t doing anything dangerous or costly and, b) I remember, sort of, being that young. I was impressed at their industriousness, and that they could do all that without getting the snot bit out of them by the mosquitos.

I am getting ready to head back up to the Milwaukee area, to do some safety and security assessments for a school district north of Milwaukee. This one will only be a couple of weeks. I’ll also be doing an assessment for a local private school. There’s also a possibility that I will be doing some training for the State of Louisiana in December, but that has not been finalized yet.

Maybe I’ll make enough money to buy a mosquito-proof suit.