Things Worth Dying For....

I have incredible respect and admiration for what he had done and true concern for what it had done to him. Marcus Luttrell sat at a table, eating a meal, quietly talking with friends and acquaintances. Operation Red Wings happened in 2005. This was September 11th, 2008. I sat in a banquet room with over 700 other first responders and family. Like the parent of a 2nd grader who had his first part in a school play, I anxiously watched every move and listened to every word. I was so incredibly proud of this man that, until a few minutes earlier, I had never heard of. I was also scared that at any minute he would lose his grip on the podium, or his mind, or his heart. He seemed to be teetering pretty much from the time he stood up to take the stage. This was a man who had undergone some of the most demanding training anyone can go through in order to survive under any possible contingency, but standing there he seemed completely vulnerable. He meticulously described, what seemed to be, every detail of the injuries and eventual death of his three dear friends and comrades. The worst had happened and it took more from him than any man should have to give. I think everyone in the room had the same feelings I had. When Marcus finished speaking over an hour later, the tension from all those knotted stomachs was released like a spring and everyone in the room shot to their feet in unison. Our second grader had just given a heart-wrenching soliloquy. We were proud and relieved. We were also grateful for the sacrifice that everyone involved had made. Not just the brave men who died or watched their friends die, but the sacrifice of the Pashtun villagers who risked everything they loved for a stranger. They risked everything for a code.."Pashtunwali"...a code of honor based on a belief that people are worth dying for. Listening to Marcus bare his soul on that night almost 6 years ago I had no idea that my thoughts and feelings about life and death would be forever changed by this man who, by the grace of God, was the Lone Survivor.

Estate Sales

I go to an estate sale once every two or three years, just to remind me why I am not an estate sale person.  On its face it seems to be an ideal situation.  A TWU professor lived in this house for 60 years; seems that it would be a treasure trove of interesting and useful items at a good price. 

Most of North Denton apparently agrees and there I find the first problem, parking.  In this case, the elevation is critical.  The further I travel down the street looking for a space, the tougher the climb will be back up the hill to the house.  I circle around and go one block to the south to remain on the same elevation and actually be a little closer.  (Tactical Parking should be my first e-book)  The other thing to prepare for, mentally, is the yahoo that parks illegally near the house and leaves the flashers on.  This could very easily put me in a dark psychological place.  I cannot allow that to happen because I will need a good attitude for the trials ahead.

As I approach the house the excitement grows.  I observe all the smiling faces of people walking to their cars, treasure in hand.  I see power tools, a folding workbench, and that gas can (which was the real reason to show up), all wonderful finds.  Unbeknownst to me at the time, this was the second problem.  When you get to a 9:00am sale at 9:15, all the really good deals are already gone.  However, I don’t know that yet and my confidence is high, I repeat, confidence is high.

Now to get into the house; I understand that the sellers don’t want me to steal late uncle Bob and aunt Jenny’s stuff but the tiny opening by the backyard fence, which is the only hole in their defenses, is clogged with people paying for their purchases.  No one in this line is concerned about me getting in and I am not willing to push my way through.  Eventually, I am able to follow a large woman who apparently dressed for this predicament.  She wore a bright purple spandex sausage casing work out suit that allowed her to slide between people with very little friction.  I followed her and was inside searching through items in no time.

Once inside another issue is navigation.  There is just not much room in most houses for passing traffic.  My disposition and size being what it is, I count it a miracle that I got out to pen these words of warning to others. There is never anything in the bedrooms that are worth traveling to, for it is a dangerous trip indeed.  I was stuck in a bedroom for almost 30 minutes, as waves of people pushed me further from the door.  How can this happen you say…bedrooms are always full of purple spandex women and tiny 80 yr old ladies.  Both of these types of sale goers have the psyches of feeding sharks.  An elderly woman can dart in and out of crevasses and cover the whole house before I get clear of the kitchen.

All of the good garage stuff and yard equipment were gone.  Finally I have my two items, a book of poems (copyright 1923) and a cool little wooden cigar box.  I make my way out to the backyard checkout area to discover that the line goes all the way to the back fence.  As I stand there, sweaty and annoyed, my cigar box is suddenly not that cool and the binding on the book seems a little frayed.  I set down both items and wait for a blocker to exit.  I spot a woman with a large plastic purse that swings widely as she walks.  She is complaining loudly about the price of the dining room table as she leaves.  Everyone in line moves out of our way as we leave.

As I walked back to my car I declared to myself that I only wasted an hour, I would never do it again, and all would be right with the world as soon as I got to Starbucks.  It was.

I’m Beef and these are my tips

It's Just A Gas Can...

I went out last week to buy a gas can. I wanted a 5 gallon plastic can like the one I bought 10 years ago.  What I found has driven me to blog. Not only was the price incredibly crazy, the nozzle looked like it was designed to fuel the space shuttle. I flipped all the levers and pulled at the trigger.  I actually read the directions and it still didn't make any sense.  I finally gave up and left.  When I got home I looked up the manufacturer for the can, that I had, and discovered the company was bankrupt.  Several websites implied that multiple lawsuits forced the company out of business. The newspaper, The Southeast Texas Record, tells of one such lawsuit:


According to the plaintiffs' complaint, the incident occurred on Dec. 18, 2009, as Brooke Crouch was sitting around a camp fire with high school friends. One of the boys attempted to rekindle the camp fire using a Blitz gas can.
Allegedly, the gasoline vapors were ignited outside of the can and flashed back inside it and exploded. Brooke was sitting across from the fire and the gasoline shot onto her hands and legs and under her cheerleading skirt causing severe third degree burns, according to the suit. She was taken to a burn unit, required surgical procedures, skin grafting and extensive physical therapy. 
The gas can manufacturer, Blitz U.S.A., is being sued for strict liability and negligence.The plaintiffs argue that there are safer alternative designs that could eliminate the risk of the gas can exploding, including the use of a flame arestor device or the use of a gas can closure that would prevent flammable gas fumes and liquid from escaping the can. 
Blitz is also accused of failing to produce a reasonably safe can, selling a gas can that was defective, failed to contained adequate warnings and instructions, unfit for its intended and anticipated use, failed to properly test its can, failed to take remedial measures such as post-sale warnings or recall the can, failing to report incidences and lawsuits involving other consumers and for spoiling evidence.


You can't fix stupid....but, the courts try every day.  Warning: this cup of coffee contains a hot liquid that might burn you, duh! If you pour gasoline onto a fire, you might get burned, hello? 

Another thing that supposedly makes new gas cans so complex is environmental laws. Gasoline is considered a volatile organic compound (VOC). VOCs are supposedly greenhouse gases. I found the following online:

The EPA regulations are based on requirements started in Califormia by the California Air Resources Board (CARB) in 2000 and updated in 2007. Since 2000, individual states have been slowly following suit, but the new EPA regulations will bring all states in line and by January 1, 2009 all new PFCs produced and sold in the United States will be compliant.

The regulations impose:
• A single, self venting opening for filling and pouring with no separate vents or openings
• A treated can body for minimal permeation of fuels
• Automatic closure, meaning a nozzle which automatically springs to the closed position when not pouring
• Childproof features as designated by the Children’s Gasoline Burn Prevention Act

So what does this tell us?  My old gas can is apparently destroying the baby polar bear's home, really?

This makes me long for simpler times.  It is, after all, a can that holds gas.  Why does everything have to be so complicated?

Today the complexities and roadblocks are created by an over reaching and over bearing government that regulates away our liberties, while spending our grandchildren's futures. 

This is America.  I want companies to be able to make money in this country.  Occasionally, bad things will happen to good people.  They are called accidents; they are not opportunities to get rich and put hard working people out of business.  For now, I will have to buy a "vintage" gas can off ebay where there is a remarkable selection of pre-2009 cans.  I want my gas can and my country back.
I'm Beef...and these are my tips...vote for tort reform and a complete overhaul of the EPA.  Also, take care of your gas can, it's more valuable than you think. :)

Cold Concrete

This morning it was 46 degrees when I got up. Jake always loved the first cool crisp morning of fall. I mentioned my dog Jake in my blog post yesterday. Coincidently, yesterday was the first time since Jake’s death last June that I got up and went to the back door as if to let him out. I don’t know what prompted this. It was the first time that I had slept the entire night for many weeks. Perhaps I dreamt about Jake and didn’t remember. Jake was a Samoyed. Samoyed’s are sled dogs and great athletes. As sled dogs, they are equipped to deal with very cold, snowy conditions. Jake's toes were webbed to run better in snow. He had a dual layered coat to stay dry and warm in cold, wet conditions. Sammies are faster than Malamutes, but stronger than Huskies which usually puts them somewhere in the middle of a sled team. On normal summer days in Texas, Jake would go outside, stride briskly to his preferred spot of the day, do his business and run back to the door. For Jake's comfort and safety, I always took the position that if I was too warm, Jake was too warm. He spent most of his time with us, in the air conditioning. Days like today were special for Jake. He would go outside and raise his nose, twitch his ears a couple of times, look at me and start sprinting around the yard. He was so fast and agile, even as a senior dog, it was a sight to see. As he would make his laps around the yard, he would slow just briefly as he passed me as if to say, “Isn’t this great?” Jake was a great dog that always loved to play. I miss him, particularly on crisp fall days when the breeze is fresh and the concrete patio is cold on my bare feet.

Keep playing Jake, I’m not that cold.

My Friend

I came to the airport to have breakfast with my friend. I’ve had a lot going on lately and sometimes you just have to say things out loud to work through them. Sometimes the things I say don’t make any sense. I ramble on about one thing then another. Occasionally I talk about things I’ve seen at work, horrific accounts of things most people wouldn’t want to listen to. Sometimes we discuss my health or my beautiful family. I confess my failings and vow to do better. My friend doesn’t judge or question. She just stares at me with a knowing look of unconditional love and acceptance. We sit in our shady spot and share a couple of apples. My friend is a bay filly that I call Sugar. I don’t know her real name and she doesn’t seem to mind. Sugar is normally in the pasture, just east of the tower at the Denton Airport. Today she was not there. I called her on the PA in the truck and watched the tree line. I expected her to walk out and come to the fence like she always does. I waited but no luck.

I recently heard someone say that those who doubt the existence of God have not spent enough time studying nature. I say that one of the ways God clearly reveals himself to us is in the eyes of a horse. I’ve had dogs who were great friends, most recently 15 years with Jake, our Samoyed who died last June. Jake was a great friend and family member but I’ve never felt, with any other animal, what I feel with a horse. Hopefully, Sugar is visiting friends or getting her hooves trimmed or something like that. If she is not there next time, I may have to find another horse friend for my morning therapy sessions. Sugar won’t mind because where ever she is; she is helping some confused soul to understand their existence.

I have two apples in a paper bag behind the seat. I hope my bay filly comes back before they go bad.

Golf Clubs

I am a Golfer.

Were I a Hunter, no one would be surprised if I had several rifles and shotguns. If I were a Fisherman, would anyone even look twice if I had 6 or 7 fishing rods. Why, then, is it so suprising that I have several sets of golf clubs?

Early in my law enforcement career, my hobby was competitive revolver shooting. I reloaded about 500 rds a week, travelled to competions all over the southwest, and acquired several firearms. No one, I cared about, said I had too many handguns. This was an expensive hobby. After several years, I stopped competing.

At some point I focused more of my energies on softball. I eventually owned several, high-end, DeMarini bats. Not once did anyone on the team say,"We have too many good bats". These were the tools that our teams needed to be competitive.

As I got older and more brittle, I looked for other competitive outlets. My wife was by my side through all these activities. I started working on my golf game. I played as often as I could. Why then was she surprised when, I started acquiring golf clubs. I bought cheap clubs, then built custom clubs, then bought proline clubs, as my game progressed. At one point, my wife exclaimed,"How many sets of clubs do you need?".

There are 2 or 3 golf bags in every room. I tried keeping them all in one room but Donna complained that we couldn't use the room. So...I spread them around. This reduces the impact on the household and provides a common theme that increases flow through out the interior design (I read that some where). If this all makes perfect sense to you....welcome to the fraternity. I probably saw you at the HP Byron Nelson Championship this week. The only people at the Byron this year were Jesuit High School students and parents(thanks to young Jordan Speith, 16 yr old high school golf phenom who became the 6th youngest golfer to ever make the cut in a PGA event), and serious golf enthusiast. Anyone else who attended was there for business or the party.

So..why does someone need this many sets of clubs?

Today...I discovered the need that everyone will understand......

When you are watching TV... and you look down on the floor in the middle of your living room to find an, albeit small, snake, it sure is handy to have a 3 iron within easy reach. I'm not sure how he got in, but I am sure that he is out....thanks to "Mr. 3 wiggly". Proof also that there is still a good use for a 3 iron in a modern golf bag. A rescue or hybrid would not have been the right tool for the job. A 7 wood? Forget about it! The 3 iron...unloved, unappreciated, but needed.

I'm Beef....and these are my tips for those who live in wild west.

Some days I wonder...

We just got a summary, from the city's insurance consultants,concerning the major points of the Health Care and Education Affordability Reconciliation Act of 2010, which will follow the Patient Protection and Affordable Care Act. The summary that outlined all of the "free stuff" that the big bad insurance companies are now required to give us, was accompanied by a statement. "The City is still evaluating how this will impact our plan and we will be incorporating these provisions...". We know how it will impact the plan. It will drive costs through the roof, just as it was designed to do. This bill is designed to bring the european model of socialized medicine to the U. S. Prices will soar which will allow the gov't to come in and save the day with single payer just like they admitted that they wanted to do from the start. I use to think that the destruction of the greatest healthcare system in the world was the worst that this administration could do. Then I realized that in the process they could also destroy the economy. That was my worst fear. It is no longer my worst fear. Now I fear that they have divided and irreparibly damaged the nation. A large portion of society thinks this "change" is good, they trust those in power. A large portion believe we are on the road to societal and economic ruin. Islamic Jihadists are no longer worried about destroying the "great satan". We are doing it to our selves. Regardless of which side of the fence you are on, or how you feel about the issues, there is a widening abyss between the factions and unrest is in the air. This always makes things difficult in my profession. We just learned of a radical, right-wing, extremists group called the "Hutaree" who planned to kill law enforcement officers and then bomb the law enforcement funeral in order to exact as many casualties as possible. They saw law enforcement as the face of an oppressive government. This is an extreme example but the examples are everywhere. I guess what I am saying, and this is my tip( although it is usually more of a story, but not today), understand what is going on around you. It's not time to go to the bunker or get all depressed, but it is time to take care of your people. Realize that the times we are living in may worry and concern normal people, but the world is full of abnormal people. Have a plan, have a go bag if you need to get out of town fast. Go to any preparedness website and learn about this (www.ready.gov is as good as any).
I'm Beef and these are my unusually foreboding tips.
P.S. Mom don't worry about me, I'm fine. :)

Process over Product

I recently read a golf book that stressed the importance of focusing on the process and not the outcome. Golf is so mental and so difficult that even the greatest golfers in the world don’t make every shot the way they intend. The author stressed looking at the process as the success that we need to feel confident about our abilities. Now, I try to focus on the process. I look at the lie of the ball, lay of the land, game management, wind and distance. I determine what type of shot I want to play and with what club. I visualize the shot,, tracing the path of the ball in red in my mind. I then try to make a smooth, pretty swing. If I do all of those things correctly, I’m happy with my shot. Where the ball goes is not important. This makes my game enjoyable and usually successful. Remember golf is life.
This epiphany caused me to start thinking when I heard a political pundit use the phrase, “the end justifies the means”. The reality is that the means is the most important thing. After all, weren’t we always taught, “it’s not whether you win or lose but how you play the game”. Now don’t get me wrong, winning is important. If it doesn’t matter who wins, don’t keep score. Losing should hurt. But where is the joy in winning if you don’t follow the rules or play with honor. There is no greatness in that.
I once shocked my lovely wife by saying there are worse things than dying. As Christians we know that death, while it is painful for those we leave behind, is not something to fear. Living without honor is tragic. Being alive but not living is tragic.
Everyday we have to get up and look at the shot before us. Take everything into account and swing with gusto. Then lay your head on your pillow at night with no fear and no regrets.
I'm Beef and these are my tips.

Choices

To be sleepless because of the pain, or because of the pain killer…what an easy choice. However, I’m sleepless none the less.

We got a chance to catch up with old friends on two occasions this weekend. I made a decision early in the week to stop feeling guilty about my neglected relationships and start doing something about it. It really wasn’t that hard. I said, “why don’t ya’ll come over?” on one occasion and just dropped by someone’s house on another. These are things I grew up watching my parents do as a way of life. I, however, had chosen to just come home and “vegge” out in front of the TV every night and not reach out. This resulted in guilt and lost contact. These are people that I have always considered very close friends but had not visited with in a long, long time. Why do that? I suddenly realize that putting together a cognizant thought is so much more difficult after having chosen painkiller over pain. In a way my choice to visit this weekend was choosing pain over painkiller. Not that it was painful to visit but it had become an escape to watch tv and go through the motions. It required no effort at all. It asked nothing of me, no thought or decision or revelation of my feelings. It was plugging into the matrix and being numb. I didn’t really even realize that I had done it until now. When we told our son that we were having people over Friday night he acted like we had chosen the red pill. He said he was so glad that we were doing this and how good it would be for us, as if we had become hermits or something. I didn’t realize it at the time but I guess I was acting like one. At least I still felt guilty about ignoring my friendships. So now I resolve to living more and vegging less. I have resolved before and found my resolve to be lacking. Usually every January it is an obvious attempt but other times also. I find myself trying to fix shortcomings, being temporarily successful, and then failing. There are times when it seems so much easier not to try so that I won’t feel guilty for failing. I am sure others feel that way but surely they don’t fail as much as I do. None the less, it was nice to catch up and visit. Once again I’m feeling a little foggy so I will try to go back to sleep…or vegge in front of the TV. I am Beef…and these, I guess, are my tips.

Tired of the Cold

I don't recall ever being so ready for a new season. As a youngster every season held it's own excitement and wonder. During the fall there was always football practice and school. The winter held holidays and the frequent, weather related, no school. Spring was anticipation of school being out and nice weather. Summer...well...summer was freedom. Later as a parent I experienced all of these feelings vicariously through our children. With the exception of the snow day...not so much here in Texas. It was all fun and something was always going on. Now that we have an empty nest, most of my recreation revolves around golf. I rarely let the weather stop me from getting in two or three rounds a week but sometimes it's just a beating. When it's cold and wet and windy and every well hit shot deposits that little speck of mud into your face...sometimes...it's just not fun. Also, when the conditions are their worst, I'm usually playing alone, because really..who else would be playing golf in that kind of weather? I have had enough unplayable days this winter to re-grip three sets of irons and replace the spikes in 2 pairs of golf shoes. I can't tell you how many times I've cleaned clubs and re-organized the golf bag. So this year I am very ready for spring. Playing in short sleeves, hitting drives that chase down the fairway instead of plugging, playing in foursomes, it all sounds so far away when it is February 4th. I know that I have fewer winters in front of me than behind. I know that everyday is a gift to be cherished. So I will enjoy these days in front of the fireplace and be thankful for the occasional sunny day. I know that spring is coming and this year I get to meet my new grand-daughter. I have to keep my game in shape because I know that in a few short years, she will be out driving me. Now...it's bedtime. I will dream of bright green fairways and brilliant white golf balls engulfed in the laughter and giggles of a little girl named Laila and the emotions will warm my cold bones. I'm Beef and these are my tips.

I'm Still Here

I try to keep my Facebook status current. I try to support my friends by posting comments to their status. However, I have neglected my blogging responsibilities. I am on target to become a grandfather in May. I have wanted that for a while but the feeling of saying it out loud makes me feel old. I have always said that a parents main responsibility in life is to raise future fathers and mothers. Even though Clay is not there yet, I sense that I am coming to the end of my main mission in life. There is a sense of freedom, nostalgia, remorse and pride. I feel pride that our children are awesome believers, friends, citizens, and future parents. Nostalgia fills my head as I recall all the little steps along the path. Each memory is special. As the Aborigines people say, "when this life is through, all you leave is your story". I love telling my story so far because it is filled with those little moments as a parent and husband. I feel a touch of remorse when I think of the things that I would have done different, if I had known then, what I know now. Is that wrong? I don't know. I love my children just the way they are. If I had handled somethings differently to teach more self-discipline, would they be less compassionate? If they were more analytical in their life skills, would they be less creative? Okay...so never mind about the remorse. They are too special to take a chance on changing anything. But I do feel freedom coming. Freedom to play with babies and give them back. Freedom to get'em all jacked up on mountain dew and cotton candy and send'em home. Freedom that their development into future parents is not my responsibility. But, it is gonna be so much fun to watch.
So...I'm still here. The best is yet to come. All the players are uniquely qualified to fill their roles. My role...play with the grand kids. I can do that!

This and That

“As nightfall does not come at once, neither does oppression. In both instances, there’s a twilight where everything remains seemingly unchanged, and it is in such twilight that we all must be aware of change in the air, however slight, lest we become victims of the darkness.” Justice William O. Douglas
I posted this as my status on Facebook because I feel that we are in the twilight. While it is twilight, if you are aware, you can make plans for the darkness. You can buy lanterns and stack firewood and position supplies. If you languish about and take no action, you suddenly realize, "I can't see", panic sets in as you grope around trying to find light or sustanance. In this panic you may latch onto anything, not caring what freedoms you may give up, or moral compromises make. Make plans for the darkness! It is coming and the prepared will carry through to the other side with no regrets or remorse.
One of my Facebook friends responded by asking, "Is the oppression here, or is it coming?" This was my response.
"It's a matter of degrees...were they dropped into our time, our founding fathers would say the oppression is here. I fear that our grandchildren will say this was a time of great liberty."
We all hear people talking about the "Good Ole Days". There were good things about the past but our lives are so much easier than they were in the past. I fear that the "easy" has spawned the cultural and moral decay that we observe today. I long for Mayberry, sure it was a ficticious town in a made up show but there was a remarkable resembalance to the life I led growing up in Kentucky. Setting on the porch at Granny and Papaw's felt like Mayberry. Going to the feedstore with my Dad felt like Mayberry. Every now and then I get a whiff of it. You have to go far away and sit really still and listen really well to everything...but you can still get a subtle taste and know that it can still be found.
My wish for you, my family and friends, is that you prepare so that you can avoid oppression. Listen so you can hear the beautiful sounds of children laughing. Raise your nose and breath in the smell of freedom and liberty and lives well lived which provide our heritage. Look around and see all of the little things. This will get you through the darkness and into the light.
Once again, I'm Beef, and these are my tips!

My First Coaching Injury

I coach offensive line for the Dallas Defenders. The Defenders are in the National Public Safety Football League (NPSFL). I coach because I am old and don't bend without breaking. I do still move well enough to demonstrate a move occasionally. I also, move well enough to be a space filler. It's a lot like the seat fillers that they use at the academy awards and such. You don't really do anything but you make everything look better. That was suppose to be the case at practice yesterday. Our left tackle, Patrick, had to leave about 30 minutes before practice was over. We were working team defense so I stepped in to be a space filler. D-Line was working on pass rushing so they were doing twists and loops and various other D-line stuff. I was being a typical left tackle and trying to ride the end outside the passing pocket. He was being easy on me, since I was just a space filler, but he was firing out and working up the field so that others could work on their assignments. On a particular play at 1645 hours, near the end of practice, our quarterback called a pass play that Central Texas likes to run. He announced that the snap count would be on two. On the offensive line we like it when we mix up the snap count. It accentuates our advantage over the defense. Everything is easier when you hit the person across from you before they hit you. Consequently, since o-line is always asking for the snap count to be different, it is very bad if we jump and cause a penalty. So it was on this particular play. I was not going to jump. I was going to practice what I preach, over and over and over. I was going to be disciplined and sit perfectly still in my two point stance. I heard the line calls as we approached the ball. Everything was pretty standard. I heard the quarterback going through his cadence then, "hut". I expected the defensive end to jump. It was the first time since I had been in that we changed up the cadence. So when he lurched forward, I remained perfectly still. What I didn't know, and didn't plan for was that the center would mistakenly snap the ball on one. This happens occasionally in football. It usually doesn't result in a great play for the offense because everyone on offense is caught off guard. It does not result in a penalty because the ball is snapped before anyone moves. Normally, as it did on this day, the offensive lineman get hit, realize what happened and recover to salvage the play. The problem comes when one of the offensive lineman is merely a space filler. When you look at football helmets it is easy to see the different face masks for different positions. Backs and kickers have much smaller face masks than lineman for obvious reasons. When looking at all the styles of face masks there is never one called space filler. This is because the space filler just wears Oakley's and a Titleist cap. These accoutrement's of space filling do very little to protect the space filler from the fully clad 6'6", 280 lb, defensive end. It is for this reason that yesterday at 1646 hours the space I was filling was horizontal and very close to the plane of the earth. I did manage to keep the blood off of my embroidered coaching jacket, another tool of the space filler. I applied direct pressure to the space over my left eye for the next 14 minutes until practice was over. My space filling of the left tackle position was over, but I certainly wasn't going to leave practice early for something like this. What kind of Coach would I be? After practice, while being barraged with queries about my condition, I calmly walked to the car and headed for the ER. I did have some interesting moments while maintaining pressure with one hand, holding the phone with the other, and driving with my knee. But hey, all space fillers can do that. At the ER I got my 6 stitches and hurried out before being exposed to any real illnesses. This morning, I realized that in addition to the cut over my left eye, I also have an abrasion on my left cheek and a swollen upper lip. I have secured my "space filler" Purple Heart and, after all, Chicks dig scars!

Beef / JG

Feeling A Little Radical This Morning

While at work yesterday, I listened off and on to various reports about the G20 meeting in London. I listened throughout the day without really giving it much serious reflection. It was a busy day at work and I was the only Sergeant so I didn't have much time to speculate on world events. I mostly heard reports on the many gaffs. I was irritated by the fact that Obama bowed to Saudi King Abdullah. Then there was the deal where Michele Obama instigated contact with the Queen. Oh, and they gave the Queen an Ipod that was loaded with various music and video, including several of Obama's speeches. I know that I am old and may be the only one that remembers these movies, but does anyone else remember Ma and Pa Kettle Go To Town? Maybe it's on YouTube for you young whipper snappers. Anyway, that movie just jumped in my head when I kept hearing about all the protocol challenges.
On a more serious note, I do recall that late in the afternoon, Sean Hannity, made a comment that he had always thought the conspiracy theorist and doomsday crowd were off their rocker when they referred to Obama as the anti-Christ. For a moment Hannity was solemn and sort of quiet when he said that biblically, it is hard to argue with that idea.
I am asking myself on a regular basis, what can I do to stop the systematic deconstruction of the constitution and the basic principles that our country was founded on. I think the very least we can all do is to reread the constitution. If that really gets you going try reading the Federalist Papers. It may take a little while. They are actually 85 essays written by various authors. Any amount of reading will help you understand the principles and will add context and texture to your understanding. You can access all these documents at www.foundingfathers.info .
From a law enforcement perspective, I figure that if I am frustrated and wanting to take action other, more militant, citizens are probably feeling the same way. I try to daily prepare my shift for the possibility that we will be stuck in the middle of domestic, political unrest which may border on revolution. I know what you are thinking, but in Law Enforcement we have to think about all the "what ifs" because we will be out there dealing with them until someone comes up with a "plan".
I am trying to take a big picture look at this. I look at the Carter years when we had gas lines and the Iranian hostage crisis. I look at the LBJ years when we had the Vietnam war and the associated civil unrest from protesters. I really don't see a time in recent history when there has been so much at risk. At the moment, one of the things that I intend to do is to attend the local Tax Day Tea Party. I encourage you to find the one near you and attend also. http://taxdayteaparty.com/
Donna is fixing breakfast and I have lost focus again. More later.
Beef/ JG

Mentally Ill? Golf is the prescription!

There was a time, about 18 months ago, when my work situation was very stable. My cancer was very stable. My children were all nearby. I was playing golf at least twice a week and had time to practice another couple of times per week. I slept like a wee baby, seemingly without a care in the world. My handicap index was 7.6 and being on the golf course was pure bliss. Every time I stood over the ball, I was excited about the fantastic shot that I was about to hit.
Then...the department acquired a new Chief, my entire chain of command was reassigned, and I found my self scrambling around 50-60 hours a week trying to justify my existence. During this time I lost the ability to schedule an afternoon for weekday golf. It seemed that no matter how I worked at it, I could not make my new bosses happy. This started to affect my health. I would wake up in the middle of the night and start thinking about work. Once this happened I had to just get up or I would lay there thinking about work all night. Then I started having pains that resembled the pains I had when my tumor was diagnosed. I started living on ibuprofen again. In the fall of last year Clay left for school in Hawaii. I am glad he is there. I'm very glad that he is away from home and learning self-sufficiency. I do worry more about him because I don't see him every day. I hope that he will continue to do well in Hawaii and eventually graduate from there. Recently my medical problems have progressed to the point that I believe surgery is in my near future. I have an appointment with a doctor at MD Anderson on the 9th of April. Those appointments are different because they say you have to make yourself available to them for testing and so forth for 5-7 business days. I'm not sure what they would do for that period of time.
Last week, on my day off, my lovely wife convinced me to go play golf. She even went with me and rode in the cart. Yesterday it was raining so we went to Top Golf. I don't have the same control over the ball that I once had but the game still fills me with excitement and joy. At night when I can't go to sleep, I visualize the path of the ball as I hit every shot on one of a handful of local courses that I know like the back of my hand. I rarely get past the 5th or 6th hole before I apparently fall asleep. This is way more fun than counting sheep. I really don't know what the future holds for my health situation. I will continue to pray and trust that everything will be fine. Golf though...golf is my escape. No matter how lousy your last shot was, golf always holds the hope that your next one will be the one that makes the angels sing and all the animals in the forest stop and watch. You just gotta love it!
Beef /JG

Hello? Is this thing on?

I've not had any recent comments. No one has checked on me during my prolonged absence from Beef Tips. I may get the idea that there is no one out there.
On Friday I left very early for Houston. The Defenders had a game with the Houston Gunners on Saturday but I had to go a day early to deliver my records to MD Anderson. I have to say, that place is massive. When I finally found the Sarcoma unit, it was reassuring to see that there were over 20 Sarcoma specialist on staff. I met with the nurse and gave her my, 7 years worth of, records. She looked it all over and said she would scan and copy and download all of the data so that it could be presented to the group during their review. She said that my doctor, Dr. Trent, will present my case to the group and they will all comment and speculate before reaching a consensus. It was reassuring to know that all of those trained eyes would be reviewing my case. I left with a much lighter portfolio case and the anticipation of hearing the opinion of these renowned experts.
I went to the team hotel and found several folks to dine with. We had steak at Texas Land and Cattle. It has been a long time since I had a good steak, hmmmm.
Saturday we met at the stadium at for pregame. I had spent several hours in the hotel going over possible wrinkles and adjustments that might be needed in our blocking schemes. Everything went well as we defeated the Gunners, 39-0. The O-line performed very well. We will need to improve before we face Central Texas in 4 weeks.
I drove back late Saturday and got up early Sunday to work video at church. Sunday we had lunch with Mom and Dad and spent the rest of the day catching up on yard work and recuperating.
Monday was work and well....it was a 14 hour work day and it was Monday.
Today is my Friday but I am still very busy at work, which is why this entry is going to be brief.
You are now caught up. There are details that I glossed over but that will have to wait until next time.
I'm Beef and these are my Tips.

Frantic Life

I started the day with way more to do than I had time for. Then we had two dead body calls which took a 5 hour chunk out of my day. That sounds so callous when I say it like that. I really do model empathy in every way possible when dealing with these situations. The reality is that you can be sensitive to the survivors but you can't feel emotion on most of these calls. Oh you do on some and the ones that strike a cord are hard to predict. Bottomline, I got the things done that I could get done. I finished timesheets so everyone will get paid. Everyone went home in one piece and we got all of the bodies taken care of in a respectful way.
Now, I am frantically trying to get all my medical records in order from the last seven years; scans, reports, slides, etc. At the same time, I am gathering everything I need to coach our first game of the season against the Houston Gunners. I'm doing this because I am leaving in the morning for Houston to deliver my health history to MD Anderson tomorrow. I'm staying over and coaching on Saturday. I won't be blogging till Sunday. Goodnight and good living.
JG/ Beef

I slept late...how'd that happen?

Wow. I actually slept till a little after 9. I woke up around 4 and was actually sleepy so I went back to sleep and voila! I really don't know how to respond to this. Do I eat breakfast or wait for lunch? When I sat down at the computer while ago I intended to check for facebook messages and go eat Cheerios. I hadn't counted on Bracket Madness. I filled out my bracket with some trepidation and submitted it. Then it asks if you want to invite your friends....IDK. Is it annoying, will they feel obligated or think it is silly? I really worry a lot about what other people think. I am way more like my mother than my father. My mother and her whole family were very private and low profile. Anyone that knows my Dad knows that he is the polar opposite. He would invite every facebook friend and everyone else's facebook friend. Anyway....I really haven't watched enough college basketball to be confident of my picks. Getting back to my diversion, after filling out the brackets, facebook poker decided to give me a 1000 free chips in honor of St. Paddy's day. Of course I had to take those, play for 30 minutes, run everyone off the table, announce my presence with authority and run away.
Now, blogging in my bare feet, freezing my patooties off, I am retreating to the blanket and the couch for brunch with Cherrios and a banana. Since it is brunch I may throw in a couple of peanut butter crackers. Do you think that would be too ostentatious? You know how I worry what others think.
Beef/JG

A Typical Day at Work

All day yesterday I told myself, self, you need to blog because that is what you committed to do. I just couldn't make myself sit down.
I had a busy day at work. There are 2 sergeants on every shift. I am responsible for the south and JB is responsible for the north. Occasionally we take off for school, vacation, sick or whatnot. That leaves one to cover the whole kit and caboodle. That was the case for me yesterday. Our shifts are offset by one hour so I went in early to do squad meeting for the north side guys. This is not required as the night shift sergeant will handle it if the day shift north side sergeant is off. However, I will be supervising those guys all day in JB's absence so it is better if they start the day with me. Sunday mornings are usually pretty quiet. We work 12 hour shifts so everyone has to work one short day(8hrs), where they come in late, out of every 14 days. We have several short days scheduled on Sunday since it is usually slow. I meet with the north side at 0600 and do the normal reading of bolos. Officer safety notices from our department and surrounding agencies are the most important. A typical bolo would be something like, Joe Blow is off his meds, has a gun, and is threatening suicide by cop. He is driving a yada, yada, yada, last seen, yada. We work our way through all of those and then talk about the previous nights calls. Mostly domestics and things that might carryover to our shift so that officers have a little heads up if they get dispatched to one of those locations. We talk about any special assignments or activities for the day and I try to show a brief training video or discuss a call that might have a lesson in it. Pretty much what you would expect. There is the occasional comment about a suspect or where somebody is going to meet for breakfast and we dismiss. Then I meet everyone at the cabinets to check out electronic ticket writers and printers. I have the key and have to sign out the devices. We then go to the Radar cabinet where we do the sign out thing again. Occasionally I also inventory their vehicles but not on JB's shift. He can do that when he is back. Officers inventory their cars on the in-car video every morning but every couple of weeks sergeants are expected to physically do this also. By now it is 0640 or so. Night shift south side has been covering the street for the last 40 minutes since night shift north side went home at 0600. Most of them have already started congregating in their sergeant's office but some are still dragging in. Twelve hour shifts have their advantages but it is hard to remember what they are at the end of a long quiet night. By now some of my guys are starting to show up for briefing. I usually spend these 15 or so minutes going through e-mails and making sure I have all the special events and close patrols listed for south side. At 0700 I start squad meeting and the whole dance repeats itself with the crew that I am routinely responsible for. There are 9 officers assigned to B-shift, South, or as we sometimes refer to it, the BS shift. There are very unique personalities on most shifts and this one is no exception. They are funny, somber, quiet, loud, but all professional and serious about doing the job. By 0740 I have been at work for a couple of hours but all we have done is clear the decks.
The hall is quiet again save for the occasional officer working on a report that he didn't finish last night. I spend this time planning and preparing while I can. I listen to the radio, which is usually quiet on a Sunday morning, and occasionally glance at the calls being dispatched on the computer. With CAD (computer-aided dispatch) most calls are put into the computer by the call taker or 911 operator and sent to the officer through the computer in their car. Here the officer can see the address and read the call notes as well as check previous calls at that location. Through out the day I am watching the computer in my office, or the computer in the expedition, for calls that I need to go to. Dispatch will usually make me aware but I should respond to major calls such as serious injury accidents, or any call where several officers will respond. On day shift this includes dead bodies.
We seem to have a dead body at least once a week. For some reason the last 5 have all been naked. I don't know how to explain it but we have guessed it to be that they were either hot and sweaty from having the heart attack and trying to cool off or they just happened to be changing clothes or coming out of the shower. Anyway, lately I try to limit the amount of time that I don't have on clothes, I mean, who knows. Today however the streak is ended. The 63 year old woman with pancreatic cancer that died 2 days ago, smoking marijuana in her bed, was dressed. How the burn on the sheet, from the pipe, did not start a fire, is a mystery to me. Anyway, one of my senior officers handled the call in his typical, professional way. He was great with the family, explaining the process and helping them know what was happening all along the way. Senior officers make my job so easy.
As the shift starts to wind down around 1630 or so things start getting harried. I have to check all the crime reports in the computer and whisk them, electronically, on to records while maintaining a list of case numbers to compare against the list of calls. This is to insure that all reports are completed for major calls, and to verify if something minor will be completed the next day. I also check accident reports in the inbox and discuss the days events with each shift during a debrief before they go home. Also, all that checking out that I did this morning is all checked back in. At 1858 or so, I say goodnight to the weary crew standing around my office and watch their disposition change as they realize that the weekend has started. That's the good thing about 12 hours shifts, lots of weekends. This week we are off Monday, Tuesday. We come back Wednesday, Thursday and are off Friday-Sunday. Well that was my day. I think it was pretty typical. I may be able to go back to sleep now.

Goodnight,
Beef/JG

Lost

What the heck is a blog suppose to be? Is it a diary that I bare my soul to, purely for the cathartic value of talking about my problems...a cyber, psychiatric couch? Is it to entertain friends and family? That would bring in the question, which friends and what family? They would be entertained so differently, by such different fodder. I guess that is an indictment on my soul, that I am a different person to different people and never the twain shall meet. I once gave the sage advice to my son, "just be yourself". The quizzical look and cavalier response he gave me indicated that he already understood that we all live multiple lives...maybe not all of us. I really think that the Jesus that was preaching the sermon on the mount was probably the same Jesus when he was just kickin' it with his homies. I also guess that others have done a pretty good job of maintaining a single identity with some minor dalliance into schizoidville. So it is a fault that I am about to reveal. Drum roll please. I am different at work....I am different with family...I am different at church...and at 3 o'clock in the morning lying in bed, contemplating my own mortality or any of a thousand terrible things that could happen to one of my kids...I am different. Now the one that really twists my head into knots. Which one am I when I talk about all the "me's" that I am? If that is not a tough enough question...which of my worlds am I admitting all of this to? I don't know.

We went to the movie Watchmen last night. I feel an obligation to tell everyone I know that they lied to us. All of us were victims of this lie. The previews made it look like, just another superhero movie. It is not. It is dark and visceral and carnal. There is so much of this that even the work "me" would think that it should be rated NC-17. Now the work "me" also thought it was a powerful movie that evoked emotion and made me have to think to keep up. Don't tell the family or folks at church that I said that. Truth is that the work "me" sees a lot worse than that on a normal day at the office. I and the people I work with see so much of this that we have to be different people around the ones we love. When I see someone from work out with their family, we look at each other as if we are under cover. We don't want to spoil what is good with thoughts of the multiple fatality wreck we worked together the day before, or the suicide that the asshole let his children find. We just say hi and with a knowing glance acknowledge to each other that we thank God everyday that we have another life to escape into when work is done.
No matter how hard I try this morning I can't manage to keep it light. I'm going to eat my Honey Nut Cheerios with bananas on top and maybe watch a cartoon. That usually does it.
Bye for now.
Beef