An Overdue Thank You

My Grandfather died the other day.
And as I look back on his life I found myself grateful for a lot of the things he did for me in the past. I found myself grateful for the gifts he gave me years ago. He took me hunting year after year, taught me to drive an ATV (he even held on tight when I popped a wheelie and got the 4-wheeler up on two wheels), took me crawfishing (yes, that is a verb), and taught me to expertly parallel park. I was thinking back on the gifts he gave me but as his health started fading and he was not able to do things for me, I stopped seeing the valuable gifts he gave me. I now realize how mistaken I was. It wasn’t until he passed that I realized Big Daddy has given me some very important gifts recently.

The first gift he gave me was perspective.
Too often in my life I can get so wrapped up in the short term problems that seem to occupy my day. I can suffer from emotional short sightedness and loose visibility of the long term important things in life. I can get too bogged down by a fussy kid, a moody wife, or a mean boss. I far too often let short sighted thoughts linger in my mind. In his death, my grandfather, reminded me of the longer term goals in life. He reminded me to maintain a longer term vision in the midst of my today. He reminded me to consider the impacts of my choices and how they might impact my obituary. What will my kids (possibly grandkids one day) say about me after I have died? Will they recount my work successes, how many miles I ran, how cool I thought I was or will they recount what kind of father (grandfather) I was, the times we went and did that super fun and memorable thing, the bedtime stories? Will they remember me for the things I wanted to accomplish in life or will they remember the things I did accomplish?

This is very closely tied to the second gift my grandfather recently gave me. He gifted me by reminding me of priorities. While perspective is the ability to see down the long road of life, priorities are the things that you are looking at down the long road of life.
My oldest sister was recounting her memories of our grandfather on facebook yesterday. She remembered him as “tough, ornery, stubborn and wonderful.” She remembered him taking “the midnight feedings with my baby sister when my mother was a 26 year old widow.” The truth is I can’t even tell you what my grandfather even did for a living. I can’t even really tell some long list of “accomplishments” from his life. But I can tell you about the times he took his city boy grandson out into the swamps of Louisiana and Mississippi to go deer hunting and tried to make sure he was enjoyed it as much as possible. I can tell you that he was proud of me and loved me very much even without him saying it very often. Too often the goals at the end of my life revolve around or are concerned with myself. I want to be remember for how great I am, but I have been reminded that I would rather be remembered for how great others are because of me.

And the last gift I recently realized my grandfather gave me was actually a joint gift given to me by him and my grandmother; they gave me the gift of a good example.
They both demonstrated to me what it looks like to live out their marriage vows. They modeled what it meant to stick it out in a marriage. I am sure that a thousand years ago when they got married, my grandparents had a list of reasons why they wanted to get married. I don’t know these reasons, but I’m sure my they had them. I’m sure my grandmother would say something like my grandfather was handsome, or that he was going places, or that he was a good talker or listener, or that they had fun together. I don’t know the reasons but the thing I recently realized is that some point in the past few years most of these reasons (if not all of them) no longer existed. In the declining years my grandfather was no longer handsome, he was restricted to his bed or his rocking chair and wasn’t really “going places”, he didn’t really talk, and I doubt my grandfather was much fun… enjoyable – yes, fun – no. But through it all my grandmother stuck by him and loved him until the day he died; and more likely loves him even still after his death. And there was a time when my grandmother’s health was fading and we thought she didn’t have much time left on earth. During this time my grandfather was there right by her side loving her through it all. My grandparent gave me the gift of what it means to stick out a marriage “in sickness and in health, for better or worse, until death do us part” and my grandmother continues to show me that vow probably should be amended to be “till death do I part”.

Before his death I took the time to thank my grandfather for some of the gifts he gave me from years ago, but it wasn’t until after he died I realized these other less tangible gifts. It is now with tears in my eyes that I say thank you to him one more time for the gifts he recently gave me. I am sure I will need reminding of these things often but for now I am grateful to have been the recipient of 31 years of love from one tough, ornery, stubborn and wonderful man.

Thank you Big Daddy.

Life Changing...

Ok, so "life changing" is a bit of a stretch, so let's call it a game changer. My next few blog posts are about my adventures in a new way of living.

It all started with a book. Ok, this all started before reading the book, but the book brought about knowledge of my situation and helped explain why I am, what I do, and provided a guide for where I am going.


The book (in this particular case) was "Born to Run" by Christopher McDougall. I will go into details of the book and its application in my life in blog posts to come but for now here is the overall premise...

From the back of the book:
"An epic adventure that began with one simple question: Why does my foot hurt? Isolated by Mexico's deadly Copper Canyons, the blissful Tarahumara Indians of have honed the ability to run hundreds of miles without rest or injury. In a riveting narrative, award-winning journalist and often-injured runner, Chris McDougall sets out to discover their secrets. In the process, he takes his readers from science labs at Harvard to the sun-baked valleys and freezing peaks across North America, where ever-growing numbers of ultra-runners are pushing their bodies to the limit, and, finally, to a climactic race in the Copper Canyons that pits America's best ultra-runners against the tribe. McDougal's incredible story will not only engage your mind but inspire your body when you realize that you, indeed all of us, were born to run."

The author met with the most elite runners in the world and ran with them (not competitively) and figured out a simple truth. More is less and less is more.

And so begins my journey...

A bit behind...

So its been a while...

Anyways I've been working on the blogging, just slowly.

Here is June's featured artist: The Civil Wars
Think Lady Antebellum, mixed with The Frames (Falling Slowly), mixed with a Johnny Depp look alike with the music talent of Mumford and Sons. A country/indie duo with really impressive harmonies and vocal skills.

Top Songs:
Poison and wine
My father's father
Barton Hollow

Check em out.

A great way to start the day...

I'm not sure why I thought of this today, but for some unknown reason I did. So I googled it and here is where I found myself.

(I recommend watching the video although listening to the audio is pretty great too)

It's such a good feeling:
http://pbskids.org/rogers/songLyricsItsSuchAGoodFeeling.html

Won't you be my neighbor:
http://pbskids.org/rogers/songLyricsWontYouBeMyNeighbor.html

Little known Mr. Rogers fact (according to Wikipedia):
He is an alumni of Rollins College here in Orlando.

Food for thought...

"The wise man in the storm prays to God, not for safety from danger, but for the deliverance from fear. It is the storm within that endangers him, not the storm without." -- Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we oft might win by fearing to attempt.”-William Shakespeare

I forgot to ask...

I forgot to ask, does anyone have a good quality Bright Eyes CD they could send me? I can only find really bad quality recordings to download. There are some really good songs, but none of them sound good. I would appreciate it.

Thanks!

Some more favorite bands of mine

So the February Artist of the Month was going to be an easy call, that is until I hung out with my brother in law for a few hours in a car. He also has a good, eclectic taste in music. But as much as I like his recommended band they will only receive the 1st Runner Up award.

This month's big winner is: Josh Radin

Not really a "new" artist, but he's got some new songs out (new to me anyways) and a few of them are good duets. Check out: Will's Lullaby (Everything's gonna be alright), You've got growing up to do (feat Patty Griffin), You got what I need.

1st Runner Up: Mumford and Sons

Ok, so a newer band to hit the radio scene than Josh Radin, but they are pretty awesome. An Irish-Blue Grass Band. An actual stand up bass, a banjo, a guitar and a key board make up the quartette. Songs to check out: Little Lion Man, Cave, White Blank Page, and Sigh no More. And those are in order starting with my most favorite.

I did want to mention that last month's band has another awesome song I needed to mention: Parrot and Lily. The song isn't as Chill as their others. This song kind of rocks. Very cool.

Also since I am doing 1st Runner Up awards, I figured I would give last month a 1st Runner Up since Jan was a very tight race. So last month's first runner up is: The Beautiful Girls. Note: there are no actual girls in the band. Just dudes and I wouldn't call any of them "pretty". Regardless, songs to check out: La Mar and A Million Miles. Good chill songs to listen to while working or sitting on the beach.

Anyways, I started working out consistently a couple of weeks ago. It has been going pretty well. Not like it used to be, but getting back in shape has been difficult. It feels good to get back out and be healthy.

Thanks!

January's featured band...

Sorry this took a while. I was having trouble narrowing my favorite artist of the month down to just one.

This month's favorite band/artist is: Sun Kil Moon

From Wikipedia:

"Sun Kil Moon is a music project of singer-songwriter Mark Kozelek, best known for his previous band Red House Painters. Sun Kil Moon sees Kozelek undertake the writing, composing, singing and guitar playing, accompanied by Tim Mooney and Anthony Koutsos on drums, and Geoff Stanfield on bass."

Sun Kil Moon is a very chill, relaxed sounding group of actual artist that actually play their instruments, not just a few chords repeated for 4 mins over and over again. I really appreciate bands that really play instruments beyond most "pop" music. Just my thoughts...

Songs to check out:

Alesund

Heron Blue

Glenn Tipton

Grey Ice Water

Other's are great too, but I wanted to throw a few out.

Peace Out.

ARSM

This month's featured artist...

This month's featured artist (a new addition to the Real Super Man Blog) is Keb Mo.

Keb Mo is not actually the guy's name. From Wiki...

Kevin Moore (Keb' Mo') is a signer, song writer, guitarist who grew up in Compton. Unlike Dr Dre, he started his musical career playing the steel drums and upright bass in a calypso band. He moved on to play in a variety of blues and backup bands throughout the 1970s and 1980s. Today he has released 12 albums and plays some pretty sweet blues music.

Songs to check out:

-It's all coming back

-Hand it over

-Am I wrong

Those a few of my favs right now. In "Am I wrong" he really lays down some really awesome guitar licks that I find myself jamming to in my head.

Peace Out....

Judge Not...

I received a jury summons weeks ago and honestly was a bit excited to possibly be a member of a jury. I had only seen juries on TV and movies, and it always seemed juries were made up of people entirely too dumb to actually determine a true verdict (think OJ Simpson trial). I always figured the smart people found ways out of jury duty, so when my opportunity came I was actually a bit excited to provide “intelligence” to a jury panel. I didn’t WANT to spend my time on a jury but I figured I wouldn’t try to fight it too much.

I showed up in the morning and waited for my number to be called. It didn’t take too long as 30 of us got pooled and headed up into a courtroom to start the jury selection process. This is where most people actively try to get out of jury duty. People were raising their hands for every excuse mentioned. “Who here knows the judge?, Who knows the defendant?, Who can’t see well?, Who can’t hear well?, Who holds any preconceived biases either for or against a defendant, the police, this court or the State of Florida?” One woman raised her hand to each of those. She knew the judge (her son was sworn in as a lawyer by him, she thinks), she knew the defendant (she thought he looked familiar), she had bad eye sight and hearing (but never missed a question to identify someone she knew in court), and fostered biased feelings (although she assured the judge she would put them aside if selected as a juror). One guy said he was in a similar incident as the victim in this case and said his “heart was racing just thinking about the allegations of the crime”. In the end, the people smart enough to get out of jury duty did, those too lazy to simply raise their hand to get out didn’t and were selected, and those who secretly wanted to be selected did. Six of us were selected and so commenced the two day ordeal.

The prosecution and defense attorneys argued liked cats and dogs (although I have never seen a cat and a dog argue). They argued over anything and everything. Objection!, leading. Objection!, witness already answered. Objection!, not fair. Yeah, I heard that one. I’ve never heard “objection, not fair” before on TV, but as most lawyers will tell you TV is NOTHING like reality. When a simple objection would take too long to argue, the jury would be sent into another room and let the lawyers fight over the issue. I guess the judge finally decided what was fair.

The case was “assault with a firearm”. And in the end the state had to prove 4 things: Did the defendant threaten the victim, did the defendant have the means to enact that threat, did the defendant create fear in the victim, and did the defendant possess a firearm. The interesting part of this was that the video surveillance showed almost the entire thing. Between all the cameras in the store only 12 seconds of the incident were not captured. It was in that 12 seconds (so argued the state) that the assault with a firearm happened. The defense’s case boiled down to this, only one person actually saw the crime happen and that was the victim and his recollection of the events were often foggy and even inconsistent to what was shown on to have happened on the video tape. The video only showed the defendant try to buy something at a register, store security being called, the defendant walk out of the store and the store security follow him to the door. It never showed the defendant display a gun, nor did any of the witnesses even see a gun or heard a threat, except the store security.

The state showed that the defendant tried to fraudulently buy $400 of gift cards at two registers on opposite sides of the store, the defendant leaving his gift card at the register and walk out the door. Their case boiled down to this, without any hard evidence one way or another, what was a reasonable assumption to what happened in the 12 second gap? What did common sense say happened in that video gap? Why would the security guard lie about being threatened?

Each time one side would call a witness or cross examine I would feel myself being swayed in towards the other side. The case was not clearly guilty or not guilty. It was a constant back and forth and in the end I found myself praying for the wisdom to weed though the back and forth and rest easy on a conclusion. In the end there was no clear answer. All the six of us had to go on was this loose understanding of “reasonable doubt”. Had the state demonstrated guilt beyond a reasonable doubt or did the defense create enough confusion or doubt in our minds.

In the end, the six of us had to discuss things for a while. It started off with a 4-2 vote but slowly the two started becoming more confident in their opinion. In the end, we all agreed that the defendant was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt; not fully a confirmed doubt, but more than a possible doubt. In the end, we all agreed to render the defendant guilty and leave his sentencing up to the judge. In the end, none of us felt good about our decision. In the end, I was left feeling really sad for the kid and his family. When the verdict was read I looked over at him and watched his world come tumbling down. I don’t regret my vote, and I’m not saddened by justice being done. I realize actions have consequences (believe me, I get that), but I was just saddened by being personally involved in determining the consequences of this kid’s actions. Last Friday the defendant woke up and probably thought he was going home that day a free man. He was probably hopeful that the agony of his past 10 months would soon be over. But right before 6pm, his world was rocked. I watched the look on his face as surprise set in and he realized he wasn’t going home for a while. He would probably be sentenced today and I don’t want to look up to see what he was sentenced to. I don’t want to know the outcome; I’m still saddened by the situation. I'm sad that on Jan 21^st this kid thought it would be a good idea to scam $400 in gift cards from the Home Depot. I'm sad that he had the ordeal planned out to include carrying a pistol. I'm sad that he had a getaway car and driver staged outside waiting for him. I'm sad that I was a part of the justice process that will be sending this kid to jail. Again, don’t get me wrong. Justice is needed. Justice is right and noble and without it anarchy and chaos would ensue. I'm not upset that a victim got justice against the person who violated them, I’m just sad that instead of hearing about this story on the news; I was personally involved in the outcome. I wouldn’t change my vote or my discussion to persuade the other jurors because I honestly feel like the kid was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. But that doesn’t mean I’m happy about the outcome either.

Better late than never

So my sister, dad and I are running the Marine Corps Marathon together. My sister thought that while we were inflicting pain on ourselves, we might as well raise money for a worth while charity. So she signed us up for team World Vision and we are trying to raise money. I realize there are only 29 days left to raise money, but any amount we can raise will go to help a really good cause.

I'm going to post the link and if you are feeling charitable and want to help a cause, then why not consider helping World Vision by donating through the Sweet/Adams Team.

The Sweet/Adams Team: http://twv.convio.net/site/TR/TeamWorldVision/General?team_id=4750&pg=team&fr_id=1210

More info on World Vision: http://www.worldvision.org

A new one...

Check out the site... pretty cool. I have enjoyed watching the videos and I like the message.

www.IamSecond.com

An update on me...

I know its lame, but I keep posting lyrical introspective posts but here's another...

"I keep trying to find a life
On my own, apart from You
I am the king of excuses
I've got one for every selfish thing I do

What's going on inside of me?
I despise my own behavior
This only serves to confirm my suspicions
That I'm still a man in need of a Savior

I wanna be in the Light
As You are in the Light
I wanna shine like the stars in the heavens
Oh, Lord be my Light and be my salvation
Cause all I want is to be in the Light
All I want is to be in the Light

The disease of self runs through my blood
It's a cancer fatal to my soul
Every attempt on my behalf has failed
To bring this sickness under control

Tell me, what's going on inside of me?
I despise my own behavior
This only serves to confirm my suspicions
That I'm still a man in need of a Savior

Honesty becomes me
There's nothing left to lose
The secrets that did run me
In Your presence are defused
Pride has no position
And riches have no worth
The fame that once did cover me

Has been sentenced to this Earth

Tell me, what's going on inside of me?
I despise my own behavior
This only serves to confirm my suspicions
That I'm still a man in need of a Savior

I wanna be in the Light
As You are in the Light
I wanna shine like the stars in the heavens
Oh, Lord be my Light and be my salvation
Cause all I want is to be in the Light
All I want is to be in the Light

There's no other place that I want to be
No other place that I can see
A place to be that's just right
Someday I'm gonna be in the Light
You are in the Light
That's where I need to be
That's right where I need to be"

Dc Talk - In The Light

Yeah, an oldie I know...

This is me...

Not so super, not much of a man.

Where I'm at right now... cue the music:

"So you thought you had to keep this up
All the work that you do
So we think that you're good
And you can't believe it's not enough
All the walls you built up
Are just glass on the outside

So let 'em fall down
There's freedom waiting in the sound
When you let your walls fall to the ground
We're here now

This is where the healing begins, oh
This is where the healing starts
When you come to where you're broken within
The light meets the dark
The light meets the dark

Afraid to let your secrets out
Everything that you hide
Can come crashing through the door now
But too scared to face all your fear
So you hide but you find
That the shame won't disappear

So let it fall down
There's freedom waiting in the sound
When you let your walls fall to the ground
We're here now
We're here now, oh

This is where the healing begins, oh
This is where the healing starts
When you come to where you're broken within
The light meets the dark
The light meets the dark

Sparks will fly as grace collides
With the dark inside of us
So please don't fight
This coming light
Let this blood come cover us
His blood can cover us

This is where the healing begins, oh
This is where the healing starts
When you come to where you're broken within
The light meets the dark
The light meets the dark"
-Tenth Ave North

Not sure how I feel about my decision...

I just signed up for a twitter account. I have debated (in my head) liking twitter for several months now. I finally signed up because I found out you can keep up with it from your cell phone. I also was told you can do facebook and myspace from you cell, but myspace got trashy years ago and facebook just has way too much info on it. I don't want to post pictures and I don't want to keep up with friends request. I hardly have enough time to blog as it is yet alone keep up with facebook.

Anyways, since I can twitter from my phone I thought I would try it out. Pretty much a play by play of what I am doing throughout my day. And yes I do realize no one really cares about what I'm doing that much but this is a trial period. If I don't like it I can always just kill the twitter account.

Anyways, check it out.

http://twitter.com/ARealSuperMan

Peace Out

It really IS a wonderful life, Clarence!!

So, my job sucks. Just thought I would start off with that good news. Why does my job suck? I just don't like it. Whoa? Who said anything about "liking your job"? I know, it could be worse... I could be back in Now Zad (although I really enjoyed my visit), the point is I need to suck it up. So to get away from work, I went for a run. I thought I would clear my head as I try to get ready for the LSUX I mean LSAT (which is tomorrow). So I grab my 30 pound pack (I added more weight from my last run) and took to the streets. Why is it though that it always seems to pour buckets of water from the sky when I run with my pack? So I started off on my run (without Capt Cue-Ball, who is in Vegas) and it wasn't raining, just a nice Florida afternoon. Clouds; yes, but nothing ridiculous. Windy; yes but wind doesn't always mean rain.

Anyways... 100 meters into the run it starts sprinkling. Then with each step it progressively rains harder and harder. No big deal, i can do wet, but can my iPod?? Hmmm, I wonder. I guess we will just have to see, so I keep running. I ran for 30 mins and I would like to say I did 4 miles, but the truth is it was probably only 3. I could REALLY feel the added weight on my legs and about 2/3 into the run I hit a wall and my legs decided they were not having fun anymore. Whoa? Who said anything about "fun"? This is about working out, not about fun. Just kidding, I love the misery. I love the pain.

So as I am pushing my way through the lead legs, pouring rain, a pack that keeps rubbing my back raw and it hurting my shoulders... I realize just how wonderful life is. Gee Clarence, Bedford Falls really is super! I know a bit sappy, but it is true. I just kept thinking how lucky an individual I am. I have a great family, a great job (well a job, anyways), I’m in great health... what more could a man ask for.

Please turn on your speakers and click here

And yes, Clarence just got his wings...

Super Man Returns

Well I have returned... well to be honest I have been back for a while, but I haven't had much opportunity to release the inner super man, physically speaking that is. Capt Cue-Ball and I went for a run. I decided to run with a 25 pound pack on my back. Why, because I can. That's why.

We ran 2.5 miles to the gym and at the gym played ultimate football for an hour, think ultimate frisbee but with a football. For an hour we ran up and down a basketball court playing continuous football. I scored 6 touchdowns, threw 4 TDs and had several strong defensive blocks. And after the hour of continuous running on the court, we got to run all the way back to work. In total we ran 5 miles on the street (with a pack) and probably 2 mile playing football. Oh yeah, did I mention it was pouring rain in central Florida today? That's right, when most people stay indoors and avoid getting wet, we continue to live life out loud. A very wet, fun run... never to be forgotten.

Carlos, the international terrorist...

Well my name is Carlos, but I am an international terrorist. That is if you ask the fine people of Qatar (commonly pronounced "cutter" or "cut-tar"). So, I am finally in Kuwait on my way back to the states from Awesome-stan (which is now less awesome because I left) and I went through Qatar to get to Kuwait. Why? Don't ask. Anyways, I get there and land on a US military base. By the way, I flew there on like the biggest airplane ever. You could play football inside this plane. It was totally empty which added to the ginormousness of the C-17. Anyways... so we land in Qatar on a US military base. I stress that it was a US base for a reason. Follow along.

So we land and we have to get out bags checked and go through customs. A bit odd I thinks to myself since I am still on a US base, but whatever. I get this brief telling me no weapons are allowed in this country, no alcohol, no tobacco, no porn (to include muscle and fitness magazines) and an array of other prohibited items. Wait... did that guy say no weapons? What about this loaded pistol on my hip? Good question. Before I go through customs I have to turn my pistol into the base armory and retrieve it when I am about to leave. Again...odd but whatever.

So I turn in my pistol and my loaded magazines (magazine = thing that holds the bullets in the gun) and go trough customs. There was this navy dude and we had been traveling from the same place going to the same place and we became travel buddies. We watched each other's stuff when someone went pee and we always made sure the other guy didn't get lost. So as we are carrying our bags through customs my travel buddy gets stopped for having unloaded M16 magazines. What? Yeah, the US Air Force guy there helping the Hadji customs agents tells us they confiscate magazines (not the reading ones). I think this is stupid and only applies to carry on bags (I have 8 magazines in my sea bag but it is locked up) as it would in the states. Since mine are in my checked baggage I figure I am good. Travel buddy takes him magazines back over to the armory and turns them in, but forgot to suggest the same to me; thanks travel "buddy". I go put my bags on the x-ray machine and go for it. Of course hadji customs agents see the magazines in my bag, make me open up my bag, take out the magazines and turn them over to them. What? Yes, that's right on a US Military base I got empty magazines to a high powered assault rifle confiscated. Now, I would expect this at a regular airport if I had them in my carry on. This isn't something most TSA agents run across daily, but I am a US Marine Officer on a US military base returning from a combat deployment in Afghanistan...what do they expect me to have marshmallow bullets that pop out of a pez dispenser? To make it worse, the jack ass ch-Air Force idiot comes over and tells me it was my fault for having magazines and that if this had occurred a month from now I would have been arrested. ARRESTED?? I try to hold my tongue because profanity and disrespect can get you deported from this country (and being deported = not making my flight out of Kuwait back home). So I hold my tongue this entire time as Hadji guy steals my magazine but when ch-Air Force idiot tells me I should be arrested for being a terrorist I can't hold on anymore... I ask him "isn't this an AMERICAN MILITARY BASE? How can they (referring to the Hadji patrol) arrest ME?" He replies (get this) "they wouldn't arrest you, we would." OMFG!! I am seriously about to punch this guy in the face and start shooting people (but again, that would only be a short term solution and would derail me from getting home...but boy would it have felt good to do) but I just shut my mouth and tried to get out of customs as fast as I could before I got deported.

So my own country was going to arrest me for being an international terrorist in Qatar? I mean, I don't mind if other countries classify me as an international terrorist (I probably am in their eyes) but my own country assisted in me being classified as an international terrorist and labeled as such in Qatar. I had to sign some forms before they finally let me leave. And of course the forms were in arabic and they wouldn't tell me what they said. So I think I signed an admission of guilt to being a terrorist in Qatar. I doubt they will ever let me return... sorry wifey, I guess we have to cancel that dream vacation of ours to wonderful Qatar; turns out I am an international terrorist.

To make the situation even weirder (is that a word?) also in my sea bag (next to the empty magazines) i have a 14 inch K-Bar knife and a Holy Bible. I can do a lot more damage with a 14 inch knife than 8 empty high capacity magazines and a Bible is WAY more offensive to these Hadjis that anything I might have wanted to say.

Well, the situation is over. I made it out of the beautiful and prosperous country of Qatar without going to jail, killing anyone or committing other various crimes against allah (although I did eat a ham sandwich - don't tell) and am here in Kuwait, ku-waiting for my flight home tomorrow. What a day. At least I had a smooth, clean shaven face in which to commit terrorist crimes against the state of Qatar, right?

What's in a name, really?

So as I am preparing to depart from Afghanistan my beloved electric razor died. Well sort of died. It doesn't work anymore. So I have to switch back to the good "old fashioned" super razors and shave gel. There is a product out there, the mach three. Advertised as "triple blades provide the closest shave possible". What is doesn't advertise is that it is strictly for dudes. Sorry ladies, no mach three for you. But what did the manufacturer do...they made a lady version. It is called the "venus trio" or something lame. Well, when old faithful died I went to the very small shoppette here to buy a new razor. My choices?... one of those multi packs of "cut your face to shreds" disposable razors or... that's right... the venus trio. At first I protest. They HAVE to have other razors, right? No. So I buy the "slice your own face beyond recognition" disposable ones and use them exactly once. After almost bleeding to death (and refusing to shave my jugular) I went pack to the shoppette and admitted defeat.

I fought it for a while as I stood in the shoppette but finally sink into the fact that I have to buy a lady razor to shave my face. My life sucks...(not really, but buying a lady razor isn't a high point). I finally convince myself that the venus trio is just the same as the mach three but slightly different... yeah, slightly for GIRLS!!! My manhood just died a bit as I went to the check out counter and paid $7.40 for the lady razor. Not only do I now have to use a lady razor to shave...I had to pay for it... and pay way more than I should.

But what's really in a name? So THEY (whoever THEY are anyways) calls this razor the "venus". So what. A venus fly trap is pretty cool, right? It eats bugs. That's kind of manly. Sort of. Ok, now I am just trying to make myself feel better, but I am still shaving with a razor designed for girl's legs and underarms.

A sad day for men everywhere...

When Zad…ohh Now Zad.

Well what has been going on here… other than the death count rising not a whole lot. I was out traveling earlier about two weeks ago. I went to visit Now Zad. Now Zad is an interesting town. A little history lesson… around 2006 the British held a small base on the west side (west side!) of the town and the Taliban held positions on the east side. The british had a pretty successful attack on the Taliban one day and the Taliban responded with 18 attacks on the Brit base in 23 days. Well the local populace of Now Zad said, “I’m outta here” (but they said it is Pashto) and they abandoned the city. Since then there have virtually been no civilians left in the city.

Today the Marines hold the small base on the west and the Taliban live in the woods that line the river on the east side. The rule of thumb (when looking at Now Zad) is that the Talibans hold everything that is green (living trees), the Marines hold all the built up areas (the abandoned town) and everything that is brown (dead or dying vegetation) is no man’s land. The Taliban have reinforced fighting positions, rank structure, a chain of command, guard post and training areas. They are a “legitimate” and “organized” enemy force. I am pretty sure that what is going on in Now Zad has not been seen by any military in a very long time; we have our side, you have yours and we meet in the middle to fight. The Taliban have so many mines buried in and around their area that when a new Taliban fighter shows up to the area they physically tie a rope around the new guy and connect it to an older, more experienced fighter. The new guy has to follow the experienced guy around so he won’t blow himself up, although this does happen often.

The Marine unit there has had 5 or 6 double amputees (legs) resulting from land mines. Every Marine that goes out brings two tourniquets with him. Some even put the tourniquets on their legs, just not very tight in anticipation of needing them soon. Some of the amputees didn’t live long with both legs blown off but some make it back to the US where they now have prosthetic legs and are undergoing rehab to learn to walk. There is a board up on the Marine base showing the amputee Marines back stateside using their new legs and smiling for the camera at their buddies back in Now Zad. The Marines that are still in Now Zad find comfort knowing that their buddies are being taken care of back home.

The Marines in Now Zad sleep 1000 meter (or yards if it is easier) from known Taliban fighting positions with around 100 Taliban fighters. And you think you didn’t sleep well last night? So why would I go somewhere so dangerous? Let me explain something I didn’t emphasize enough…there are like 200 Marine Corp Infantrymen at the Marine Base. So, yes I was 1000 meters away from 100 Taliban fighters while I slept, but I was surrounded by 200 other Marine Grunts… I could not have been any safer. Trust me. Sitting here at Camp Bastion is just as safe as Now Zad, unless you go for an afternoon walk through the countryside… then you may need to wear a tourniquet (or two) around your legs.

I must also admit that my trip to Now Zad made me a cheater… I am sorry Cali but I couldn’t resist another cute, blonde that liked to kiss (maybe I should apologize to the wifey). They have bomb sniffing dogs out with the infantry units and the one I met there was named Corporal Clay. Now Corporal Clay is a highly trained bomb smelling dog, but due to factors I won’t go into, these bomb sniffing dogs are worthless. They are not even used on patrols, they are essentially morale boosters and platoon mascots. So for the third deployment out of four, I have come across another Canine Mascot. Libo was our Haji dog mascot in Iraq, Genius and DBIED (doggie born IED) were our Hadji dog mascots in Kuwait and now we have Cpl Clay, an honest to goodness American Lab. I guess I saved the best for last. Nothing compares to an American dog… third world Hadji dogs are just not the same. Not nearly as awesome as a USA dog. Not nearly as awesome as my American dog, Cali; AKA Super Dog!

We had continued to have a rough time with casualties the past few weeks. Please keep the men fighting on the front line in your thoughts and prayers. They don’t do this for the money or the recognition, and I can’t explain why they do it, but they are doing the tough job each and everyday.

And don’t ask me why we don’t just bomb the Taliban side to hell… don’t even get me started people.

Random Fact of the Day…
Holland is the only country with a national dog… so I guess dogs in Holland might be cool too. But I doubt they are as cool as Super Dog and Cpl Clay.

Now Zad and Cpl Clay (dog) pictures