A Thanksgiving Message: What I Am Thankful For On This Day

I see this homeless man almost every time I drive down Beverly Boulevard...

I see him and hundreds of others jut like him who drift and wander the shining streets of Beverly Hills like plastic bags caught in a breeze - not knowing or even caring where they are going, but knowing that they are moving none the less.

This particular man sleeps in front of the Kinko's and also near the AT&T from time to time...

I watched him for about 10 minutes the other day as people walked past him as though he were invisible...

But, he's not invisible - hence the reason why I see him almost everyday on my morning commute.

It's difficult for me to fathom any kind of happiness in his life, and yet the optimistic side of me wants to think that there is some tidbit of reason - some amount of happiness - something meaningful and reasonable for him to cling to as he floats adrift in the swells and storms of his own existence.

So, why this picture on a day where we are giving thanks for all the things we have? Why this? why now?

I say, why not?

On this Thanksgiving Day 2007, as we sit in our living rooms, watching television, sharing meals and stories and getting bombarded by the many advertisements regarding Christmas Sales that begin as early as midnight tonight, I wanted to remind you that you have many things to be thankful for. Just take a good look around you for a second to stare into the place where you live - the faces and eyes who look back at you with love and care and the bounty of food on the table. These are all graces and good things we share and celebrate on this day. It is a reminder that there is family to be cherished, love to be given and received, and things which we take advantage of to be recognized.

The message of Thanksgiving is simple - the real Thanksgiving lies within you - it is your ability to recognize those things that are good and right and they are all things to be thankful for. Take the time to share your thanks with the people around you and toast to their love, passion and inspiration. Try not to be thankful for the material things you have in your possession because they do not make you - it is the people who love you and support you - they are the true inspiration which drives you everyday!

I wish each and everyone of you a very happy - a very prosperous and very loving Thanksgiving Day 2007.

Oh! As reminder, don't forget to make a left-over plate to give to a homeless person tonight - it does not hurt to give to those in need - but it does hurt ignore those who do need!

On This Memorial Day...

I happened to drive by the Los Angeles National Cemetery yesterday while taking the boys back home to their grandparents home in order for them to attend to their grandparents 45 Wedding Anniversary festivities.

Looking out over the freeway from a south bound lane doing 70 miles an hour, the gray morning fog and heavy dew lay across the patches of green and brown grasses that swathed the many spires of white and gray tombstones arranged in neat formations across that hallowed patch of ground nestled within the hustle and bustle of an early Sunday morning in Westwood.

I pointed to the cemetery as it passed by and said to the children, "Look guys - look at all those flags. Doesn't the cemetery look so beautiful with all of the flags in place?" My sons, occupied with resting in the back seat, or watching the passing traffic quickly looked to their left to see the fleeting site and uttered only, "Yeah."

Content with their answer, I dropped them off and then decided to stop by the cemetery on my way back home to take some pictures and even pay my respects to my fellow fallen brothers and sisters in arms.

I don't know why, but for some reason, this Memorial Day holiday really compelled me to do this. Really, I had never done it before in the past but something about all of this turmoil with war, unrest and the chance of being activated to fight and protect yet again and struck a chord that resonated within me and fluttered through me like the many flags dancing and waving to me across that green field.

So, getting off the freeway, I drove into the entrance and found myself not alone but amongst other strangers that like me that had come to take their pictures of this beautiful and patriotic site. Almost before I knew it, I found myself walking along the fields and grave sites, up and down the avenues looking with a mixture of awe, respect, remorse and gratitude.

I could hear the din of the freeway, which sort of detracted from the overall effect of this solemn and sacred place. I wished to myself that it was just a tad bit quieter somehow. Anyway, I managed to walk up San Juan Hill Road and saw an older couple taking pictures and beautifying a grave site up ahead. I ventured forward, awkwardly trying not to disturb their ritual. I found our eyes meeting and the elderly gentlemen said, "Please, go ahead and take pictures if you wish" Looking at the marble stone, I read it and saw a name of a PFC who was just 20 years old when he died in March 2005 in Ar-Ramadi - the very place I had been for the first 5 months of my Iraqi tour. We talked about the Army and my assignment in Ar-Ramadi and I told him that the unrest was just a low rumble while I was there. A few mortar attacks and a few IED's had claimed only a few lives to that end when I had eventually left there. Our conversation carried on and eventually he asked in his broken English, "Do you think we belong in Iraq?" I was caught off guard by the question and managed to stammer and trip over my words, "Well, I guess...I really don't know." was all I could muster. I explained to him that I believed that my service was purposeful and meaningful and that as a medic and Hospital Corpsman, my job is to heal and assist in any way I could. I told him that I knew full well what it means to be a soldier or a sailor in service and in war. There is a possibility that I could die - whether that is justified or not, only time will tell. Convictions and truths about war are seldom in alignment - there is always something that we can see and focus upon, and there is so much more that lies just below the surface that we cannot see or dare not see for whatever reason.

I thanked him and wished him and his wife well. I told them that I was sorry for their loss and hoped that they could find some consolation in this all.

Walking away, my mind and spirit were both in a bit of turmoil. I cannot accurately describe the feelings I had at the time, but it was one of both confusion and a bit of enlightenment. I cannot sum it up accurately, but I will give it my best shot. If I manage to lose you along the way, I apologize. Anyway, I have come to realize that over time, there is an evolution of any person who has found themselves called into service to fight and perhaps die in war. There is a mixture of fear and fearlessness that grabs you. Swept up in a wave of false bravado, you put on your "warface" and you you boast, brag and joke your way to the front of the battle.

When you get there, you realize that war is not all its cracked-up to be and that death is an all too real possibility which in turn, makes you cling to life that much more. It is an emotional roller coaster that you ride for a few weeks until you come to realize that to live in the fear of death and destruction is both crippling and naive. Somewhere in the 4th and 5th weeks of my tour in Iraq, I managed to "let go" of everything that had been holding me back, and embraced everything that may or may not be because it seemed the right thing to do at the time.

Regardless of the steps in the evolutionary process of any instrument of military force, I have come to discover that a warrior does not pray or wish for war, but does so for peace and tranquility. He or she trains for battles they hope they will never have to fight, but when called upon to do so, will be a sharpened precision-like instrument used to persuade the argument of peace and not a slashing or careless hacking blade of costly war. Many battles are fought on the lines, both personal, emotional and physical. The obstacles that must lay before us all as a nation must be overcome together. While we stand divided, we show weakness in the eyes of our enemies and our vulnerability is easily exploited for all of the world to see.

I don't know if there is a right or wrong answer to ending this war. But, I feel that sometimes, the most simple of answers seems to be the best. We managed to get ourselves into this mess, we have taken on the responsibility of teaching a fledgling government of learning how to crawl, walk and run once again, it is our duty to see it through to whatever end it shall be. To do anything less than promised, would lead to our demise. I am not one to wish for battle or for war, but I do believe that a promise made should be a promise kept, especially on a world stage and front. We would soil our credibility and hurt our nation to a point that our demise would almost be assured. I do not think that anyone who has come before me or shall follow in my footsteps should have be asked to give their lives for any one cause other than liberty, freedom and survival. The 50,000 buried in Westwood fought and died for those values. I will be the last man on Earth to say that their sacrifices meant nothing.

What I guess I am trying to say is that it does not matter if I agree or disagree with this war. What matters is that I am doing what I can, when I can to assure that those principals of freedom, liberty and hope manage to stay alive in an "instant society" that has grown lazy with action, reaction and having what they want, when they want without having to struggle, work or strive to fight for what is rightfully theirs. It makes me quite uncomfortable to see a congress willing to fight our battles from a desk and set guidelines for our strategies without a single one of them willing to pick-up a weapon and a kevlar and man a checkpoint in Fallujah, Tikrit or Ramadi. I grow increasingly agitated by people who pop-off their opinions or use their celebrity to sway the populations in embracing a doctrine of their own choosing that is perhaps more detrimental to the men and women in uniform than any IED or RPG ambush could ever be. I wince in pain every time someone spouts off about war just to hear the drone of their own voice without offering any solid or credible solutions to bring about a peace that would be lasting, rightful and true.

I am thankful for our support and I realize that the abundance of the American public would like to see this war end and see everyone come home. I too echo that sentiment, because Americans are not Iraqi's and therefore, do not belong in a country named Iraq - we belong in America with our families, friends and loved ones. With that being said, if you truly support us, let us do our job and bring closure to this that would make our sacrifices seem worthwhile and meaningful.

On this Memorial Day 2007, I wish all the men and women who have served before me, all those that continue to serve and those who will follow behind me to never forget the scarifies that were made to make this country a shining beacon of hop, justice and freedom and equality to so many in an otherwise unlucky and oppressed world.

Humbly, I merely say, "thank you" for everything you have given to us all...

The Gift That Is Easter...

This morning, after my wife and I had exchanged Easter greetings and she had walked out the door to go to work, I was caught sitting and thinking alone in our living room. In the broken silence, while some idiotic movie I had not been watching or paying attention to continued to interrupt my thoughts and muddle my feelings, I was forced to take an accounting of exactly what Easter used to hold for me and the moment it had now evolved into.

So, as I sat on the comfortable couch and continued to NOT listen to the much-too-loud movie playing on the television, I found myself thinking and remembering some of my past Easter celebrations and just how much the meaning of this holiday and changed over the years. Honestly, I can say that I have grown more cynical and critical of Easter. I have come to see and despise Easter because it has evolved from a special celebration into just another day in a long line of many overrun by mass-media, the urge to buy and consume and a failure to embrace the true meaning of this lovely and humble holiday.

I remember the Easter mornings of yesterday when my sister and I would wake up and walk out into the living room to find colorful baskets wrapped in cellophane full of toys and candy. Sometimes Patti would wake up before me and come back into the room to tell me what was waiting for us both out in the next room. We'd get up, go out and tear into the packages to get to the part that used to count the most during Easter. You see, back then, Easter was not about cards, gifts or church - really, it was all about the candy!

In truth, I really do not miss the candy or the trips to the dentist after consuming and failing to brush. Rather, I miss the newness and wholesome quality that each day approaching Easter used to hold for me. You see, Easter, or the celebration of Easter, was all about renewal, rebirth and a chance to begin again. Like springtime, the cold and drab colors of winter had been shed and replaced by all things colorful, rejuvenating and full of life and celebration.

I enjoyed the gifts and the candy, but I really didn't care much for getting dressed-up and going off to Sunday Easter mass with the mobs and multitudes of people at St. Joseph's. In all honesty, I certainly do not miss the mass or the church, and I hope you do not see it as a blaspheme. The parking was dreadful, the mass amazingly long and boring and it was as if everyone in Hawthorne had chosen to attend that particular celebration that morning because it was always "standing room only." My tolerance of hypocrisy is very short - because it always seemed that church attendance following Christmas and leading up to Easter was minimal at best. Everyone always managed to hit the Easter mass, but missed all of the others preceding it...

The existence of my own hypocrisy has not been difficult to accept. I may not have a popular idea of what church and faith entail, but I have come to accept certain truths in this life, and though I love God, Christ and the many teachings, and mysteries that the bible holds for us all, I do not see the church as something that is wholly necessary for me to anchor and entrust my total overall beliefs in the Divine. I talk to God many times during each day, and have come to accept that my words and actions are seen and heard. I do not ask for miracles because there is nothing that God possesses that I have not already experienced or felt within my life that would lead me to believe that God, whomever he or she may be, does not exist. In my embracing of faith, I have come to find that each day I draw breath inward and outward; everything that I see and absorb in my mind and heart are the daily and hourly miracles that have been reaped and held within me and my life - all things that have been are from the graces and blessings of God and life as they manage to coexist in mine.

I realized when sitting down to dinner with family last night, raising a glass wine and bread for a blessing and wishing a happy Easter to us all, that moment was all the miracle and gifts which I could ever want or need. Although I missed the chance to celebrate Easter weekend with my children, I have no regrets. I have come to realize that I can only do what I can do and be the best person I can be without having to be asked.

Spending lunch with my wife this afternoon, we discussed how self-absorbed and ill-mannered people had been all day. From complaining customers at her job today to people I had greeted with "Happy Easter" only to be looked at like an outcast, we had both come to realize that many people had lost the will to give a gift or greeting to a stranger and would rather spend their time improving their own worlds rather than the world that surrounds them. People have become too self-absorbed, selfish and lacking in basic human decency. They have lost the gift of humanity within, and in that I weep for them and their own miserable existence...

After lunch, I made a side-trip to deliver the gift baskets for the children. Nothing terribly big - a couple of pieces of candy, an Easter card and a gift card from Barnes and Noble to buy a book or two. I was surprised to find the boys at home with their grandparents. They both greeted me and said Happy Easter which made me feel good. We exchanged "small talk" as we often do, and my mouth was off in nervous chatter because going back to an "ex spouses" house is never a comfortable experience. Regardless of this feeling of unease, I spent some time with my sons and let them know that I was thinking of them today and wishing them a Happy Easter.

I gave them the bags and started to leave, telling them both to be good - my oldest son already up the stairs and back into his room, my youngest turned to me and with a smile said, "Thanks dad - Happy Easter"

The gifts of my past have been encompassed by the many treasured memories within my mind and heart. All of the multi-colored egg-hunts and dewy Sunday morning lawns in my mind have never been replaced or paved over by the many years and miles that have passed between me, my family, my children and the many people who continue to love, support and shape my life in oh so many ways. The gifts I received today are placed firmly within me and are some of the best gifts i have ever received for Easter. I feel renewed. I feel loved. I feel alive. That is the gift that Easter is - it is all of these things and more.

I am satisfied with the gifts that have been given to me...how about you?

Happy Easter!

5th PSC Has Arrived!!!!

5th PSC arrived to the joyous shouts and thunderous, albeit overly enthusiastic applause donated by 4th PSC on a warm, waning September summer evening in Djibouti.

I witnessed it - I felt it and I'll not soon forget it!

5th PSC is here!

(Need I say anything more?!?!?!)

Blocked!

This is the message I received early morning on 19 August 2006 when trying to access my email account on Yahoo!...

Looks like we have been taken back a few steps into the "stone age" once again as far as Internet access is concerned.

I understand the threat to security and the passing of information over secured and unsecured networks around the camp site.

I also undertsand the logic behind misappropriation and misuse of government computer time. But lets face facts here - chances are very slim that any harm could ever come from checking your web email from Yahoo!, Gmail or Hotmail accounts. The lines are secured - there is anti-spyware, virus protection and firewalls in place, and yet there still is a collective raising of the "black curtain" that prohibits us from accessing our daily emails in the comfort of the office and away from other prying eyes...

It's just a small gripe of mine, but one that I fully understand. I am most certain that I have fans of this particular blog all over the France, Germany and maybe even in China too. I am almost certain that every email and telephone conversation is "intercepted" in one form or another and deciphered over uncoded text channels and screened for information. The spy game went "hi-tech" a few years ago, and really there is no such thing as a fully encrypted or safe transmission if the information originates from an electronic source such as a computer, cell-phone or hand-held radio.

Anyway, it will do me no good to sit her an bemoan my fate. What is done is done and there is nary a thing I can do to reverse the situation at hand. I will come to accept it as a minor setback and adapt to the situation that has been set before me.

I will accept it as is - I didn't say I would like it, but I will accept it never the less...

Doc's On Patrol

Averaging a patrol every4 days, it's a known fact that we "Docs" have been on more patrols than 95 percent of the Marines here on camp. The only person who has managed to complie more patrols than we have has been our translator...

Seeing that we have been here 166 days and averaged a patrol or two every 4 days, it can be said that each of the Doc's have averaged about 50 patrols while we have been in Djibouti - this number when coupled with the amount of training at the various ranges which requested our coverage puts us outside the safety of these wire and sand laden walls almost every other day...

If that isn't reason enough to wear Sapi-Plates, then I don't know what is...Semper fidelis!

George Carlin on Aging

Usually this is where you would often find my "Sunday Sermon" laden with some sort of Gospel According To Peter. But there has been a change.

I have invited a guest speaker of sorts or rather his wit and wisdom that somehow managed to land smack in the middle of an email sent to me from a friend. The rampage of logic was so basically simple and the message so profound that I just had to share it with all of you as a reminder that age is just a number and that living your life to its fullest is all you really need to worry about...

George Carlin's Views on Aging ...
Do you realize that the only time in our lives when we like to get old is when we're kids?!?! If you're less than 10 years old, you're so excited about aging that you think in fractions. "How old are you?" "I'm four and a half!" You're never thirty-six and a half. You're four and a half, going on five! That's the key.

You get into your teens, now they can't hold you back. You jump to the next number, or even a few ahead. "How old are you?" "I'm gonna be 16!" You could be 13, but hey, you're gonna be 16! And then the greatest day of your life . . . you become 21. Even the words sound like a ceremony . . . YOU BECOME 21. YESSSS!!!

But then you turn 30. Oooohh, what happened there? Makes you sound like bad milk! “…he TURNED; we had to throw him out.” There's no fun now, you're just a sour-dumpling. What's wrong? What's changed?

You BECOME 21, you TURN 30, then you're PUSHING 40. Whoa! Put on the brakes, it's all slipping away! Before you know it, you REACH 50 and your dreams are gone. But wait!!! You MAKE it to 60. You didn't think you would!

So you BECOME 21, TURN 30, PUSH 40, REACH 50 and MAKE it to 60.

You've built up so much speed that you HIT 70! After that it's a day-by-day thing; you HIT Wednesday!

You get into your 80s and every day is a complete cycle; you HIT lunch; you TURN 4:30; you REACH bedtime. And it doesn't end there. Into the 90s, you start going backwards; "I Was JUST 92."

Then a strange thing happens. If you make it over 100, you become a little kid again.

"I'm 100 and a half!"

May you all make it to a healthy 100 and a half!!

HOW TO STAY YOUNG

1. Throw out non-essential numbers. This includes age, weight and
height. Let the doctors worry about them. That is why you pay "them "

2. Keep only cheerful friends. The grouches pull you down.

3. Keep learning. Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever. Never let the brain idle. "An idle mind is the devil's workshop." And the devil's name is Alzheimer's.

4. Enjoy the simple things.

5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.

6. The tears happen. Endure, grieve, and move on. The only person who is with us our entire life is ourselves. Be ALIVE while you are alive.

7. Surround yourself with what you love, whether it's family,
pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever. Your home is your refuge.

8. Cherish your health: If it is good, preserve it. If it is unstable, improve it. If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.

9. Don't take guilt trips. Take a trip to the mall, even to the next county; to a foreign country but NOT to where the guilt is.

10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.

ALWAYS REMEMBER: Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

And if you don't send this to at least 10 people in the next 10 minutes, who cares?

But, DO share this with someone as a reminder that we must all live life to its fullest each and every day!!

A Change In The Weather

The weather here lately has been a bit out of the ordinary...

The days are sometimes hazy, dust-filled or downright cloudy. The heat it seems may have made an early retreat because it does not seem to be nearly as hot as it has been in the past.

Hold on a tic and allow me to re-phrase that: It hasn't been feeling as hot as it has been in the past (there we go!).

The majority of the days since June have been roughly the same. On my way to work, the breeze shifts from East to West as the moist ocean breezes gives way to the dry, warm and sandy desert winds. By sunset, the pattern has reversed itself and the evening winds sweep back inland from the ocean amidst the very tropical and unseasonably moist midsummer night squalls. To be quite honest, the break in the weather has been a welcome relief. It has been refreshing to make my way around the camp getting drenched in the sudden and sometimes cool down-pour. There have nightly "light shows" as the electricity bounces from cell to cell filling up the night time sky with bright orange and yellow flashes of lightning accompanied with booming rolls and peals of thunder.

In a country as extremes as Africa, with all of its wild and exotic flavors, smells and sights, the storms have really been rather mild to say the least. I have seen far worse and more violent storms in California and the Midwest. It has been a rather pleasant indulgence to hear the sheets of rain falling upon the roofs of our tents or seeing the light spectacle on an almost nightly basis. It seems that is all we have been talking about as of late - other than the obvious discussion about when we will leave Africa and return home.

There is a mystic beauty to be found here in Djibouti. I wish I had the freedom to come and go as I please and see all the many places in and around here - there is so much to see and I have not found any time or had the privilege to venture outside these gates except when riding in the back of a vehicle going to and from a weapons range or on patrol. Never the less, there is an interesting story unwinding all around us here, and it seems that we are merely a footnote at the bottom of this page, but a mark and a note none the less.

Never in my wildest dreams did I ever envision myself coming to Africa. This is a treasured time indeed. And though I have lost time with my family, friends and loved ones back home, I am richer in spirit, wisdom and adventure. When it comes time to leave, I will be able to look back on all the pictures and remember the laughter, the smells, the sites and the sounds of this far away and enigmatic land. My eyes and I will have satisfied an ache within to explore and learn about a place that just 23 years ago was only a dream of mine- to safari in Africa.

I can certainly check that box now...

It seems that this adventure here is drawing to an end, and I am not sad in the least. I have had fun and made the best as I often do. There is little else to be said or done. A change will be made soon and our return to civilization is inevitable and welcomed much like the change in the weather here has been. This adventure in Africa may be coming to an end soon, but the real "safari" in this life is just beginning...So be it!