Ok, a cute one to start off 2011.
These are purported to be transcribed from actual recordings from police videos in South Carolina. I'm not confirming that they are real, but as a former police officer, I can tell you that cops have a great sense of humor. And, I can believe that these were said, by one officer in some district, somewhere at some time.
Read, and enjoy. And, I refuse to confirm that I have ever even considered using any of these lines. That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
1. "You know, stop lights don't come any redder than the one you just went through."
2. "Relax, the handcuffs are tight because they're new. They'll stretch after you wear them a while."
3. "If you take your hands off the car, I'll make your birth certificate a worthless document."
4. "If you run, you'll only go to jail tired."
5. "Can you run faster than 1200 feet per second? Because that's the speed of the bullet that'll be chasing you."
6. "You don't know how fast you were going? I guess that means I can write anything I want to on the ticket, huh?"
7. "Yes, sir, you can talk to the shift supervisor, but I don't think it will help. Oh, did I mention that I'm the shift supervisor?"
8. "Warning! You want a warning? O.K, I'm warning you not to do that again or I'll give you another ticket."
9. "The answer to this last question will determine whether you are drunk or not. Was Mickey Mouse a cat or a dog?"
10. "Fair? You want me to be fair? Listen, fair is a place where you go to ride on rides, eat cotton candy and corn dogs and step in monkey poop."
11. "Yeah, we have a quota. Two more tickets and my wife gets a toaster oven."
12. "In God we trust; all others we run through NCIC." ( National Crime Information Center )
13. "Just how big were those 'two beers' you say you had?"
14. "No sir, we don't have quotas anymore. We used to, but now we're allowed to write as many tickets as we can."
15. "I'm glad to hear that the Chief (of Police) is a personal friend of yours. So you know someone who can post your bail."
AND THE WINNER IS....
16. "You didn't think we give pretty women tickets? You're right, we don't. Sign here." (Oh, and how I wish I had used that one. On more than one occasion. Does remeind me of a state trooper...initials L.C. mean anything to any of you...who wrote a movie star a ticket while she was shooting a movie in Wilmington. She was so ticked she even wrote a letter to the newspaper. One of those "...how dare him! Doesn't he know who I am" letters. Aww...)
Happy New Year. Let the fun times begin.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Immigration...what happend?
"Every immigrant who comes here should be required within five years to learn English or leave the country". Theodore Roosevelt
You remember him, right? He was quoted a lot, and I like a lot, if not most (perhaps even all) of the ones I've read.
Imagine. A hundred years ago. A no nonsense president. Yeah, me too. I have no idea what happened after that. Well, with a few, a VERY few, notable exceptions, our leaders of the past hundred years have been mostly forgettable. Oh, how I wish that the legacies they left behind could be forgettable. Along with the mess they, and our other elected representatives, left us with. Ever notice how much legislation is proposed/adopted with every change of the leadership, legislation that is meant to straighten out the legislation that was adopted before?
I think it's high time that we, as I've said before, get back to the basics. The Constitution. It's the framework of our great nation. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Obama. It is a great nation, and nothing you do during your one term will change that. This great nation is made up of people, people who have become, thanks to the Obama-ites, much more aware of how important it is to remain strong. People who are sick and tired of working hard to support those who aren't. People who have had all they are going to take.
The Constitution. It contains, without further ado, the basics needed to run this nation. All of the interpretations are unncessary. A few amendments, of course, have been needed to keep up with the times. But, the basics need not be changed. They're in place for a reason, and they've served us well for a long time. They'll continue to serve us well as long as meddling idiots leave it alone. It's kind of like cooking a big pot of homemade soup and having meddling people start adding "stuff" to it. Most often, it ends up in the back yard where only my daughter's dogs will eat it (inside joke to see if she actually reads this).
From the Inland Valley Daily Bulletin of Ontario, California: California Supreme Court upholds decision to allow ILLEGAL aliens the right to in-state tuition. That means, folks, that LEGAL residents who pay TAXES are paying the tuitions for ILLEGAL aliens who don't pay taxes. What the heck is this all about?
And, to make matters worse, adding salt to an open wound, California's budget has, shall I dare say, problems. Too many giveaway programs, along with the infracture required to support the ILLEGAL alien population. Infracture, you ask? Yep. The jails, for one. Widely publicized and verified figures show that ILLEGALS commit a lot of crime, and that the jails and prisons are housing, at TAXPAYER expense, ILLEGALS by the thousands. What a double dose of castor oil this is! First, the crimes committed against LEGAL residents, resulting in loss of property, damage to property, loss of life, and serious injury. Follow this up with a heaping spoonful of "we caught 'em, at great expense to the LEGAL taxpayers, and we're gonna provide them with a warm/cool place to rest up, along with two or three square meals a day, again...at the expense of LEGAL taxpayers". Bravo Sierra, I say.
And, as another writer has pointed out, we're bending over backwards to be ever so freakin' politically correct (two words, when used together, that just irritate me to no end), that we fail to take care of our own. Kids of LEGAL residents go to bed hungry every night. We have senior citizens that even our president (and, yes, I'm using a lower case "p" for the rest of his one term) has abandoned. We have thousands of kids waiting for adoption in this country. But, they take a back seat to the wants of ILLEGAL aliens. We have hospitals who have to raise their rates so LEGAL taxpayers and insurance companies can pay for the FREE care provided to ILLEGAL aliens.
At some point in time, the real citizens are going to stand together and take this country back. We managed to take control more than 200 years ago. Seems like we're facing the same problem our forefathers faced at that time. It was called Taxation Without Representation. Please, if you can, explain to me the difference today. We pay taxes, and I certainly don't see that we, the taxpayers, are being represented. We've come beyond taking up arms to kick the bums out, but we certainly have another way of doing just that. It started in November 2010. The bums are fewer in number. With any luck, another bunch will get the boot next go 'round. And, of course, the symbolic head of the bums will be gone. The bookies should have a field day with that one, just figuring out what the odds will be for the "point spread".
I told a very good friend earlier today that I was not going to say anything too "not nice" about anyone until after the new year. Ok, so sue me. I couldn't help myself.
2010, politically speaking, ended a little better. And, I'm counting on 2011 being a pretty cool year as the inept start running for cover. You can be on the lookout for articles and pictures of your congressman returning even more of your stolen money (tax dollars) to his/her district. It's called, any way you look at it, vote buying money.
Here's hoping that all of us LEGALs have a Happy New Year. And, for the ILLEGALs, either leave this country and come back LEGALLY, or just leave and stay gone. We don't want you here unless you do it the right way.
You remember him, right? He was quoted a lot, and I like a lot, if not most (perhaps even all) of the ones I've read.
Imagine. A hundred years ago. A no nonsense president. Yeah, me too. I have no idea what happened after that. Well, with a few, a VERY few, notable exceptions, our leaders of the past hundred years have been mostly forgettable. Oh, how I wish that the legacies they left behind could be forgettable. Along with the mess they, and our other elected representatives, left us with. Ever notice how much legislation is proposed/adopted with every change of the leadership, legislation that is meant to straighten out the legislation that was adopted before?
I think it's high time that we, as I've said before, get back to the basics. The Constitution. It's the framework of our great nation. Yes, Mr. and Mrs. Obama. It is a great nation, and nothing you do during your one term will change that. This great nation is made up of people, people who have become, thanks to the Obama-ites, much more aware of how important it is to remain strong. People who are sick and tired of working hard to support those who aren't. People who have had all they are going to take.
The Constitution. It contains, without further ado, the basics needed to run this nation. All of the interpretations are unncessary. A few amendments, of course, have been needed to keep up with the times. But, the basics need not be changed. They're in place for a reason, and they've served us well for a long time. They'll continue to serve us well as long as meddling idiots leave it alone. It's kind of like cooking a big pot of homemade soup and having meddling people start adding "stuff" to it. Most often, it ends up in the back yard where only my daughter's dogs will eat it (inside joke to see if she actually reads this).
From the Inland Valley Daily Bulletin of Ontario, California: California Supreme Court upholds decision to allow ILLEGAL aliens the right to in-state tuition. That means, folks, that LEGAL residents who pay TAXES are paying the tuitions for ILLEGAL aliens who don't pay taxes. What the heck is this all about?
And, to make matters worse, adding salt to an open wound, California's budget has, shall I dare say, problems. Too many giveaway programs, along with the infracture required to support the ILLEGAL alien population. Infracture, you ask? Yep. The jails, for one. Widely publicized and verified figures show that ILLEGALS commit a lot of crime, and that the jails and prisons are housing, at TAXPAYER expense, ILLEGALS by the thousands. What a double dose of castor oil this is! First, the crimes committed against LEGAL residents, resulting in loss of property, damage to property, loss of life, and serious injury. Follow this up with a heaping spoonful of "we caught 'em, at great expense to the LEGAL taxpayers, and we're gonna provide them with a warm/cool place to rest up, along with two or three square meals a day, again...at the expense of LEGAL taxpayers". Bravo Sierra, I say.
And, as another writer has pointed out, we're bending over backwards to be ever so freakin' politically correct (two words, when used together, that just irritate me to no end), that we fail to take care of our own. Kids of LEGAL residents go to bed hungry every night. We have senior citizens that even our president (and, yes, I'm using a lower case "p" for the rest of his one term) has abandoned. We have thousands of kids waiting for adoption in this country. But, they take a back seat to the wants of ILLEGAL aliens. We have hospitals who have to raise their rates so LEGAL taxpayers and insurance companies can pay for the FREE care provided to ILLEGAL aliens.
At some point in time, the real citizens are going to stand together and take this country back. We managed to take control more than 200 years ago. Seems like we're facing the same problem our forefathers faced at that time. It was called Taxation Without Representation. Please, if you can, explain to me the difference today. We pay taxes, and I certainly don't see that we, the taxpayers, are being represented. We've come beyond taking up arms to kick the bums out, but we certainly have another way of doing just that. It started in November 2010. The bums are fewer in number. With any luck, another bunch will get the boot next go 'round. And, of course, the symbolic head of the bums will be gone. The bookies should have a field day with that one, just figuring out what the odds will be for the "point spread".
I told a very good friend earlier today that I was not going to say anything too "not nice" about anyone until after the new year. Ok, so sue me. I couldn't help myself.
2010, politically speaking, ended a little better. And, I'm counting on 2011 being a pretty cool year as the inept start running for cover. You can be on the lookout for articles and pictures of your congressman returning even more of your stolen money (tax dollars) to his/her district. It's called, any way you look at it, vote buying money.
Here's hoping that all of us LEGALs have a Happy New Year. And, for the ILLEGALs, either leave this country and come back LEGALLY, or just leave and stay gone. We don't want you here unless you do it the right way.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be reporters
Oh, boy.
The fun begins.
This is longer than I wanted it to be.
But, it's something that a number of acquaintances have encouraged me to write for some time.
Gonna make some folks mad. No doubt.
If I offend any one in particular, it's by mistake. I may have some particular people, or organizations, in mind, but, really, it can apply across the board.
For those who aren't "in the business", this may be totally boring.
However, if you watch TV news, or did when it was actually good, you may find it somewhat interesting.
Opinionated, of course.
After quite a few years as a TV news director, I dare say that I've read all or part of several thousand resumes from young, naive J-School grads wanting to "break into the business". Those of us who have been in this biz for any period of time, those of us in news management, anyway, are fully aware that a large number of those young folks just want to be on TV. It was a standing joke at any time news directors got together.
I remember when...WAY back when...journalism was an honorable profession. In fact, at one time, Walter Cronkite, longtime CBS evening anchor, was the "mosted trusted man in America". Somehow, all of that changed. Not overnight, mind you, and it was difficult for those of us on the inside to see the change as it happened. Somehow, "showcasing", "news you can use", "live shots", became the most important parts of the daily news. Content? Well, the "stuff" that makes up the news suddenly took a backseat. And, those "radar wars". You remember. Which station had "live doppler" radar first, and which station had a "2.79 second advantage" over the other station's radar.
Puhleeze!!
That's when television news content was taken out of the hands of real, dyed in the wool, hardhitting journalists, and was turned over to "Marketing". That's just a fancy word for promotions. You know, promos: those announcements that proclaim Station A's team is better than any other station. That they had the story about the big weather system that came through on the air 10 seconds before anyone else mentioned it. The promos that keep showing Cutsey Caitlin falling down because the "hurricane force winds" were too strong for anyone to be standing along the shore.
So, who's to blame? Consultants? Not necessarily so. But, perhaps, partially. How about the broadcast groups themselves? Well, maybe. They have been grasping at straws since cable TV invaded local TV markets in the 1960's and 70's. Beginning with cable, and now including satellite distribution, local stations must compete with entertainment and other alternative programming, including news, from all over the country. Even the BBC has invaded most markets in the U.S. Local TV stations, usually two or three in a market, shared close to 100% of the viewers in their communities, but now compete with hundreds of other stations, not to mention the internet. Local stations, these days, are lucky to be able to split up a small percentage of the viewers in their towns. Facts are that the masses are NOT WATCHING LOCAL TV NEWS.
So, stations had to do something to lure viewers back to the sets. The something was "entertainment news". Every story had to be entertaining and "compelling" (one of many buzz words used by consultants and marketing guys). At one time, news managers..news directors, assignment managers, producers, even reporters...decided what stories were worthy of being covered. Not any more. Promotions guys are in that loop. Even if trained and experienced journalists can see a story in an event, marketing managers all too often weigh in and say "I can't sell that story to the public". The story is not told.
Back to the problem. Or, maybe it's just me. Way back when, the FCC had a law. No one person or group could own more than a total of seven radio or TV stations. In other words, the Acme Television Company could own three TV stations, two AM and two FM stations, or some similar combination. And, NEVER could they own more than one of each (AM-FM-TV) in any one community. All that has changed. Broadcast groups own, oftentimes, dozens of TV stations all across the country. In many cases, they control and produce programming for more than one TV station in a community. That's part of the reason all the news in one town looks alike.
Ever travel around the country, turn on the "local" news and see the same on-air graphics, same stories (often produced by the same reporters on your station "back home")...with little or no local flavor? Unfortunately, "cookie-cutter" news has become a way of thinking for corporate broadcast news gurus. The stations they own can share their "local" stories with ease, via sophisticated internet connections. One of their stations in Alabama will feature a "local" story from one of their stations in Georgia, another "local" story from a station in Arizona, another from North Carolina, still another from Mississippi. Like the viewers who want LOCAL stories give a crap about a local story from Milwaukee.
It's a way to reduce the number of reporters and photograhers at each station. It requires a certain number of reporters to gather and produce enough material to fill up a newscast. However, if the stations can rely on each other's reporters for content, then they don't need as many reporters. That's simple math. The viewers in each community are shortchanged, because their "local" stations are not covering as much "local" material. They are, as has become all too commonplace, "filling up a newscast" with material from everywhere else.
That's my two cents analysis.
But, on to the rest of this story. There's a pretty cute video making the rounds that, I'm sure, causes every veteran news director to laugh. It's attached here. Every prospective (aka "wannabe") reporter needs to look at this and decide whether you're wasting your time by pursuing a career in broadcast journalism for all the wrong reasons and with expectations that are unreasonable. Please don't get me wrong. There are some great guys and gals out there who really, truly want to report. They want to do more than just be "on television". I can count, maybe using all my fingers and a couple toes, the total number of that kind I ran into during the last ten years of my stint in TV. Those were the reporters who got excited about a story, about digging for details, about scoring the big scoop. Those are good reporters. Again, though, not too many more than a dozen.
The facts are simple...these are the ones that few J-school professors ever mention. Even if you are at the top of your class, you are just another person looking for a job. Unless you can work for peanuts, without complaining, unless you can give up, on a moment's notice, any social engagement on your "busy" schedule, unless you're willing (key word) to work nights, weekends, holidays (regardless of your faith, if any), and at any time anyone calls in sick (the repeat "sick" offenders usually disappear soon), then TV news is not for you. You see, to get to that glamorous spot in a large market (by "large", I mean top 50), you will have to start at the bottom. That means you will work for less than $20,000 per year for two years, you will work long hours, and the conditions will be miserable. You must earn the right to move on. Unfortunately, you must also work for companies that are being forced to reduce expenses, for bosses that have very little experience; and, their bosses, the top of the food chain in a station, the general manager who is making news judgment decisions based on his/her own whim. It's such a small world, this world of television news, that anything you do that ticks off anyone higher up the ladder than you will follow you wherever you go.
All of that is to say that you actually get a job in the first place. And, given the cutbacks, that's not even likely. Not as unlikely as winning the lottery, but not too far from it. If you actually get a job, make the most of it. Work hard, don't patronize senior reporters or, for goodness sakes, the news director. Many will help you move forward in your career. But, only if they truly feel like you are working for it. Unless you're one of those dozen, we're not even likely to remember your name after a year or two. Others will resent the fact that you want to better yourself by moving to another market. You'll have to check with reporters who have worked for that news director in the past to see how he/she operates.
If there is enough interest, I'll post some tips on building a resume and cover letter soon. Let me know.
Meanwhile, take a look at this video. You might see yourself or someone you know depicted here. The ND could be one of many I've known, though I don't have blond hair.
http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/8094263/
The fun begins.
This is longer than I wanted it to be.
But, it's something that a number of acquaintances have encouraged me to write for some time.
Gonna make some folks mad. No doubt.
If I offend any one in particular, it's by mistake. I may have some particular people, or organizations, in mind, but, really, it can apply across the board.
For those who aren't "in the business", this may be totally boring.
However, if you watch TV news, or did when it was actually good, you may find it somewhat interesting.
Opinionated, of course.
After quite a few years as a TV news director, I dare say that I've read all or part of several thousand resumes from young, naive J-School grads wanting to "break into the business". Those of us who have been in this biz for any period of time, those of us in news management, anyway, are fully aware that a large number of those young folks just want to be on TV. It was a standing joke at any time news directors got together.
I remember when...WAY back when...journalism was an honorable profession. In fact, at one time, Walter Cronkite, longtime CBS evening anchor, was the "mosted trusted man in America". Somehow, all of that changed. Not overnight, mind you, and it was difficult for those of us on the inside to see the change as it happened. Somehow, "showcasing", "news you can use", "live shots", became the most important parts of the daily news. Content? Well, the "stuff" that makes up the news suddenly took a backseat. And, those "radar wars". You remember. Which station had "live doppler" radar first, and which station had a "2.79 second advantage" over the other station's radar.
Puhleeze!!
That's when television news content was taken out of the hands of real, dyed in the wool, hardhitting journalists, and was turned over to "Marketing". That's just a fancy word for promotions. You know, promos: those announcements that proclaim Station A's team is better than any other station. That they had the story about the big weather system that came through on the air 10 seconds before anyone else mentioned it. The promos that keep showing Cutsey Caitlin falling down because the "hurricane force winds" were too strong for anyone to be standing along the shore.
So, who's to blame? Consultants? Not necessarily so. But, perhaps, partially. How about the broadcast groups themselves? Well, maybe. They have been grasping at straws since cable TV invaded local TV markets in the 1960's and 70's. Beginning with cable, and now including satellite distribution, local stations must compete with entertainment and other alternative programming, including news, from all over the country. Even the BBC has invaded most markets in the U.S. Local TV stations, usually two or three in a market, shared close to 100% of the viewers in their communities, but now compete with hundreds of other stations, not to mention the internet. Local stations, these days, are lucky to be able to split up a small percentage of the viewers in their towns. Facts are that the masses are NOT WATCHING LOCAL TV NEWS.
So, stations had to do something to lure viewers back to the sets. The something was "entertainment news". Every story had to be entertaining and "compelling" (one of many buzz words used by consultants and marketing guys). At one time, news managers..news directors, assignment managers, producers, even reporters...decided what stories were worthy of being covered. Not any more. Promotions guys are in that loop. Even if trained and experienced journalists can see a story in an event, marketing managers all too often weigh in and say "I can't sell that story to the public". The story is not told.
Back to the problem. Or, maybe it's just me. Way back when, the FCC had a law. No one person or group could own more than a total of seven radio or TV stations. In other words, the Acme Television Company could own three TV stations, two AM and two FM stations, or some similar combination. And, NEVER could they own more than one of each (AM-FM-TV) in any one community. All that has changed. Broadcast groups own, oftentimes, dozens of TV stations all across the country. In many cases, they control and produce programming for more than one TV station in a community. That's part of the reason all the news in one town looks alike.
Ever travel around the country, turn on the "local" news and see the same on-air graphics, same stories (often produced by the same reporters on your station "back home")...with little or no local flavor? Unfortunately, "cookie-cutter" news has become a way of thinking for corporate broadcast news gurus. The stations they own can share their "local" stories with ease, via sophisticated internet connections. One of their stations in Alabama will feature a "local" story from one of their stations in Georgia, another "local" story from a station in Arizona, another from North Carolina, still another from Mississippi. Like the viewers who want LOCAL stories give a crap about a local story from Milwaukee.
It's a way to reduce the number of reporters and photograhers at each station. It requires a certain number of reporters to gather and produce enough material to fill up a newscast. However, if the stations can rely on each other's reporters for content, then they don't need as many reporters. That's simple math. The viewers in each community are shortchanged, because their "local" stations are not covering as much "local" material. They are, as has become all too commonplace, "filling up a newscast" with material from everywhere else.
That's my two cents analysis.
But, on to the rest of this story. There's a pretty cute video making the rounds that, I'm sure, causes every veteran news director to laugh. It's attached here. Every prospective (aka "wannabe") reporter needs to look at this and decide whether you're wasting your time by pursuing a career in broadcast journalism for all the wrong reasons and with expectations that are unreasonable. Please don't get me wrong. There are some great guys and gals out there who really, truly want to report. They want to do more than just be "on television". I can count, maybe using all my fingers and a couple toes, the total number of that kind I ran into during the last ten years of my stint in TV. Those were the reporters who got excited about a story, about digging for details, about scoring the big scoop. Those are good reporters. Again, though, not too many more than a dozen.
The facts are simple...these are the ones that few J-school professors ever mention. Even if you are at the top of your class, you are just another person looking for a job. Unless you can work for peanuts, without complaining, unless you can give up, on a moment's notice, any social engagement on your "busy" schedule, unless you're willing (key word) to work nights, weekends, holidays (regardless of your faith, if any), and at any time anyone calls in sick (the repeat "sick" offenders usually disappear soon), then TV news is not for you. You see, to get to that glamorous spot in a large market (by "large", I mean top 50), you will have to start at the bottom. That means you will work for less than $20,000 per year for two years, you will work long hours, and the conditions will be miserable. You must earn the right to move on. Unfortunately, you must also work for companies that are being forced to reduce expenses, for bosses that have very little experience; and, their bosses, the top of the food chain in a station, the general manager who is making news judgment decisions based on his/her own whim. It's such a small world, this world of television news, that anything you do that ticks off anyone higher up the ladder than you will follow you wherever you go.
All of that is to say that you actually get a job in the first place. And, given the cutbacks, that's not even likely. Not as unlikely as winning the lottery, but not too far from it. If you actually get a job, make the most of it. Work hard, don't patronize senior reporters or, for goodness sakes, the news director. Many will help you move forward in your career. But, only if they truly feel like you are working for it. Unless you're one of those dozen, we're not even likely to remember your name after a year or two. Others will resent the fact that you want to better yourself by moving to another market. You'll have to check with reporters who have worked for that news director in the past to see how he/she operates.
If there is enough interest, I'll post some tips on building a resume and cover letter soon. Let me know.
Meanwhile, take a look at this video. You might see yourself or someone you know depicted here. The ND could be one of many I've known, though I don't have blond hair.
http://www.xtranormal.com/watch/8094263/
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Marine Justice
Dare I say that Marines take care of their own?
Kinda like cops.
Deep, deep, radio voice....
From the wires of the Associated Press.
Dateline: Augusta, Georgia.
(Sounds like my days as a reporter)
A U.S. Marine reservist collecting toys for children was stabbed when he helped stop a suspected shoplifter in eastern Georgia.
Best Buy sales manager Orvin Smith told The Augusta Chronicle that man was seen on surveillance cameras Friday putting a laptop under his jacket at the Augusta store.
When confronted, the man became irate, knocked down an employee, pulled a knife and ran toward the door. Outside were four Marines collecting toys for the service branch's "Toys For Tots" program.
Smith said the Marines stopped the man, but he stabbed one of them, Cpl. Phillip Duggan, in the back. The cut did not appear to be severe.
The suspect was transported to the local hospital with two broken arms, a broken leg, possible broken ribs, assorted lacerations and bruises he obtained when he fell trying to run after stabbing the Marine.
The suspect, whose name was not (immeditely) released, was held until police arrived. The Richmond County Sheriff's office said it is investigating.
Gotta love those marines.
Reminds me of the time when, as a reporter in Wilmington, I responded one Sunday evening to a report that an incoming Piedmont (before USAirways took over) plane, inbound to Wilmington (NC), had been hijacked. Yep. A Wilmington-bound plane was hijacked by a lone male who demanded that the pilot fly him to Cuba. Back in the 1960's and 70's, as some of you may recall, that was the "thing to do". Go to Cuba. Never could understand why.
At the airport, we got word that the plane was now headed for Myrtle Beach, that the hijacker had been subdued. A bit of a disappointment for us, as we had to regroup and haul butt 75 miles to the Myrtle Beach airport, which, at that time, was an Air Force base. That meant that there was no real way we could get close to the action. But, being diligent journalists, we were going to try.
Then, rejoice! Word came back that the pilot was bringing the plane to Wilmington, as originally scheduled.
A host of New Hanover County deputies and a couple FBI agents, as I recall, were on hand when the plane landed. I'll never forget the "suspect". He was about 50, a little short, and he was bleeding about his head and face as though he'd hit a windshield.
The real story begins to unfold.
The plane had marines on board, returning from various parts of the country, headed to their base at Camp Lejeune.
Once they determined that this "armed hijacker", who was obviously drunk, had nothing more than a finger in his pocket, instead of a gun, they jumped him, and "neutralized the threat". The hijacker apparently fell to the deck (that's a floor, ya'll) when the plane touched down in Wilmington.
Like I said. You gotta love those marines.
Kinda like cops.
Deep, deep, radio voice....
From the wires of the Associated Press.
Dateline: Augusta, Georgia.
(Sounds like my days as a reporter)
A U.S. Marine reservist collecting toys for children was stabbed when he helped stop a suspected shoplifter in eastern Georgia.
Best Buy sales manager Orvin Smith told The Augusta Chronicle that man was seen on surveillance cameras Friday putting a laptop under his jacket at the Augusta store.
When confronted, the man became irate, knocked down an employee, pulled a knife and ran toward the door. Outside were four Marines collecting toys for the service branch's "Toys For Tots" program.
Smith said the Marines stopped the man, but he stabbed one of them, Cpl. Phillip Duggan, in the back. The cut did not appear to be severe.
The suspect was transported to the local hospital with two broken arms, a broken leg, possible broken ribs, assorted lacerations and bruises he obtained when he fell trying to run after stabbing the Marine.
The suspect, whose name was not (immeditely) released, was held until police arrived. The Richmond County Sheriff's office said it is investigating.
Gotta love those marines.
Reminds me of the time when, as a reporter in Wilmington, I responded one Sunday evening to a report that an incoming Piedmont (before USAirways took over) plane, inbound to Wilmington (NC), had been hijacked. Yep. A Wilmington-bound plane was hijacked by a lone male who demanded that the pilot fly him to Cuba. Back in the 1960's and 70's, as some of you may recall, that was the "thing to do". Go to Cuba. Never could understand why.
At the airport, we got word that the plane was now headed for Myrtle Beach, that the hijacker had been subdued. A bit of a disappointment for us, as we had to regroup and haul butt 75 miles to the Myrtle Beach airport, which, at that time, was an Air Force base. That meant that there was no real way we could get close to the action. But, being diligent journalists, we were going to try.
Then, rejoice! Word came back that the pilot was bringing the plane to Wilmington, as originally scheduled.
A host of New Hanover County deputies and a couple FBI agents, as I recall, were on hand when the plane landed. I'll never forget the "suspect". He was about 50, a little short, and he was bleeding about his head and face as though he'd hit a windshield.
The real story begins to unfold.
The plane had marines on board, returning from various parts of the country, headed to their base at Camp Lejeune.
Once they determined that this "armed hijacker", who was obviously drunk, had nothing more than a finger in his pocket, instead of a gun, they jumped him, and "neutralized the threat". The hijacker apparently fell to the deck (that's a floor, ya'll) when the plane touched down in Wilmington.
Like I said. You gotta love those marines.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Grandma and the Airport
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Qdb6wC0Iz4
The song conatined in this attachment is funny. Yep, real funny. Reminds me of that little ditty Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer. Lyrics were cute first time I heard it, and they still are.
But, after listening to this "cute" song, there's a message at the end that we need to consider.
A lot.
We are slowly being stripped of OUR rights.
The ones that our forefathers fought and died for.
The same ones that our brave troops fight to maintain every day.
In order to spare the feelings of a FEW, a miniscule minority when compared to those affected, we must surrender our rights.
What happened in this country? Have the terrorists actually won?
If we want to safeguard our citizens, and I really hope we do, then why not do what I do at home when I don't want bad people coming in? I LOCK the door, set the alarm, and keep the "ultimate" close by (just in case all else fails). I certainly don't stop every car driving by, or confront every pedestrian walking in front of my house, and strip search them, telling them that unless they allow such action, I won't let them go any further.
What, I ask again, has happened to us? I really thought "us" was in charge. But, alas, that certainly isn't the case. "Them", the minority who's feelings we would hurt if we profiled them, is in charge.
The terrorists are winning this war, not in Afghanistan, Iraq, or Pakistan. Our marines, soldiers, airmen and sailors are seeing to that.
They are beating us on our own soil.
They, not "us", are taking away our freedoms, one at a time.
The song conatined in this attachment is funny. Yep, real funny. Reminds me of that little ditty Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer. Lyrics were cute first time I heard it, and they still are.
But, after listening to this "cute" song, there's a message at the end that we need to consider.
A lot.
We are slowly being stripped of OUR rights.
The ones that our forefathers fought and died for.
The same ones that our brave troops fight to maintain every day.
In order to spare the feelings of a FEW, a miniscule minority when compared to those affected, we must surrender our rights.
What happened in this country? Have the terrorists actually won?
If we want to safeguard our citizens, and I really hope we do, then why not do what I do at home when I don't want bad people coming in? I LOCK the door, set the alarm, and keep the "ultimate" close by (just in case all else fails). I certainly don't stop every car driving by, or confront every pedestrian walking in front of my house, and strip search them, telling them that unless they allow such action, I won't let them go any further.
What, I ask again, has happened to us? I really thought "us" was in charge. But, alas, that certainly isn't the case. "Them", the minority who's feelings we would hurt if we profiled them, is in charge.
The terrorists are winning this war, not in Afghanistan, Iraq, or Pakistan. Our marines, soldiers, airmen and sailors are seeing to that.
They are beating us on our own soil.
They, not "us", are taking away our freedoms, one at a time.
Friday, December 17, 2010
TGIF...or, maybe not. Christmas Parties and Whatnot
This might sound more like a New Years commentary, but I have a reason for the timing.
In a week, it will be CHRISTmas.
A time to celebrate the birth of Jesus.
A time to rejoice, regardless of one's faith...or lack of.
It's also the season of partying. Partying with friends and relatives, rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, the politicians.
Oh, yeah.
Them.
As an "always on duty" journalist, way back then, I could never go anywhere or do anything when I didn't think of "news". Even though I'm 18 months away from that life, I often (some...my wife...will say too often) find myself still thinking like one.
I remember those parties, and I took advantage of them. And, I'm not ashamed of it. What better time to get the truth from a political "leader" than when he or she is "partying"? The truth serum freely flows t most of these events. And, as normal citizens, you can sorta do the same thing I did. And, you can go one step further, as constituents. Do you have a message that you want to get across to those you elected but can never reach "during business hours"? I can see your wheels turning,
Well, let me tell you, a bit of Christmas cheer can make YOUR leaders readily accessible.
Something stuck in your craw? Something your mayor, county commissioner, congressman--whatever--do that you don't like? Have they been dragging their heels instead of working? For you? Been recklessly spending your money?
Well, no one promised them a rose garden when they were elected, but as I recall, pretty much each and every one of them made that promise to us as part of their campaign promises. In one way or the other.
So, why not take advantage of them when their defenses are down? Not like they haven't taken advantage of us while ours were down. Right?
Meanwhile, as they say, "...back at the ranch...". Time to change horses. Yep, in mid-stream.
Just a week to go before the big day.
Forget the presents and efforts to impress friends and relatives with how much "stuff" you can buy them.
The best Christmas is the one when you're together.
Want to know how much those "gotta buy 'em something" gifts mean? Check out Craigs List or one of the on-line yard sales sometime, say, the first week after the new year. You might see the stuff you gave being sold. At a fraction of the price you paid. My suggestion is that you buy it back. Next year, if you insist on overloading your friends and relatives with junk gifts, you won't have to spend as much.
An exception to this, as there is with pretty much any rule or suggestion:
Don't forget the kids.
Christmas GIVING is for them.
Not us.
If you think you MUST give people like me a gift, then buy a gift for a kid, and give it to the Toys For Tots guys. You can send me a note saying that the gift you have for me is a whatchamacallit toy that went to this fine organization.
Might be a little late for this year's distribution, but I'm reasonably sure they stockpile toys for next year, too.
Merry Christmas.
And, yes, I'll have more next week.
(If you bump into any political leaders, tell them I said "howdy")
In a week, it will be CHRISTmas.
A time to celebrate the birth of Jesus.
A time to rejoice, regardless of one's faith...or lack of.
It's also the season of partying. Partying with friends and relatives, rubbing elbows with the rich and famous, the politicians.
Oh, yeah.
Them.
As an "always on duty" journalist, way back then, I could never go anywhere or do anything when I didn't think of "news". Even though I'm 18 months away from that life, I often (some...my wife...will say too often) find myself still thinking like one.
I remember those parties, and I took advantage of them. And, I'm not ashamed of it. What better time to get the truth from a political "leader" than when he or she is "partying"? The truth serum freely flows t most of these events. And, as normal citizens, you can sorta do the same thing I did. And, you can go one step further, as constituents. Do you have a message that you want to get across to those you elected but can never reach "during business hours"? I can see your wheels turning,
Well, let me tell you, a bit of Christmas cheer can make YOUR leaders readily accessible.
Something stuck in your craw? Something your mayor, county commissioner, congressman--whatever--do that you don't like? Have they been dragging their heels instead of working? For you? Been recklessly spending your money?
Well, no one promised them a rose garden when they were elected, but as I recall, pretty much each and every one of them made that promise to us as part of their campaign promises. In one way or the other.
So, why not take advantage of them when their defenses are down? Not like they haven't taken advantage of us while ours were down. Right?
Meanwhile, as they say, "...back at the ranch...". Time to change horses. Yep, in mid-stream.
Just a week to go before the big day.
Forget the presents and efforts to impress friends and relatives with how much "stuff" you can buy them.
The best Christmas is the one when you're together.
Want to know how much those "gotta buy 'em something" gifts mean? Check out Craigs List or one of the on-line yard sales sometime, say, the first week after the new year. You might see the stuff you gave being sold. At a fraction of the price you paid. My suggestion is that you buy it back. Next year, if you insist on overloading your friends and relatives with junk gifts, you won't have to spend as much.
An exception to this, as there is with pretty much any rule or suggestion:
Don't forget the kids.
Christmas GIVING is for them.
Not us.
If you think you MUST give people like me a gift, then buy a gift for a kid, and give it to the Toys For Tots guys. You can send me a note saying that the gift you have for me is a whatchamacallit toy that went to this fine organization.
Might be a little late for this year's distribution, but I'm reasonably sure they stockpile toys for next year, too.
Merry Christmas.
And, yes, I'll have more next week.
(If you bump into any political leaders, tell them I said "howdy")
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Two more marines killed...another 6 seconds of news copy
Back in November, just a couple weeks before we were all looking forward to a great Thanksgiving dinner, two marines were killed. Another suicide bomber attack. Another 6 seconds of the evening's news, a time when two more nameless heroes were destroyed. It was not a happy Thanksgiving for their families and friends, just like it wasn't a happy holiday for countless other families.
War. Gotta hate it. Can't understand it. For many, you don't get to live because of it. Countries, it seems, can't live without it.
But, these two marines were the subject of a speech by USMC Lt. General John Kelly, a speech he gave on 13 November to the Semper Fi Society of St. Louis. A speech he gave only four days after his son, Lt. Robert Kelly, was killed by and IED (a coward's bomb) on his third combat tour.
General Kelly never mentioned his son's death during his speech. He didn't make it personal. He is not a politician, looking to gain sympathy and votes any way he can. He's a warrior, and the leader of warriors. He's an American.
General Kelly did, however, highlight the last six seconds of two other marines killed by a coward, in the name of "religion". The last six seconds of the lives of two marines, doing their duty. An unimportant six seconds to news producers, but oh-so-important to these marines, their families, and the men they saved that day.
"I will leave you with a story about the kind of people they are.about the quality of the steel in their backs.about the kind of dedication they bring to our country while they serve in uniform and forever after as veterans.
Two years ago when I was the Commander of all U.S. and Iraqi forces, in fact, the 22nd of April 2008, two Marine infantry battalions, 1/9 "The Walking Dead," and 2/8 were switching out in Ramadi. One battalion in the closing days of their deployment going home very soon, the other just starting its seven-month combat tour. Two Marines, Corporal Jonathan Yale and Lance Corporal Jordan Haerter, 22 and 20 years old respectively, one from each battalion, were assuming the watch together at the entrance gate of an outpost that contained a makeshift barracks housing 50 Marines. The same broken down ramshackle building was also home to 100 Iraqi police, also my men and our allies in the fight against the terrorists in Ramadi, a city until recently the most dangerous city on earth and owned by Al Qaeda.
Yale was a dirt poor mixed-race kid from Virginia with a wife and daughter, and a mother and sister who lived with him and he supported as well. He did this on a yearly salary of less than $23,000. Haerter, on the other hand, was a middle class white kid from Long Island . They were from two completely different worlds. Had they not joined the Marines they would never have met each other, or understood that multiple America 's exist simultaneously depending on one's race, education level, economic status, and where you might have been born. But they were Marines, combat Marines, forged in the same crucible of Marine training, and because of this bond they were brothers as close, or closer, than if they were born of the same woman.
The mission orders they received from the sergeant squad leader I am sure went something like: "Okay you two clowns, stand this post and let no unauthorized personnel or vehicles pass." "You clear?" I am also sure Yale and Haerter then rolled their eyes and said in unison something like:
"Yes Sergeant," with just enough attitude that made the point without saying the words, "No kidding sweetheart, we know what we're doing." They then relieved two other Marines on watch and took up their post at the entry control point of Joint Security Station Nasser, in the Sophia section of Ramadi, Al Anbar, Iraq .
A few minutes later a large blue truck turned down the alley way-perhaps 60-70 yards in length-and sped its way through the serpentine of concrete jersey walls. The truck stopped just short of where the two were posted and detonated, killing them both catastrophically. Twenty-four brick masonry houses were damaged or destroyed. A mosque 100 yards away collapsed. The truck's engine came to rest two hundred yards away knocking most of a house down before it stopped. Our explosive experts reckoned the blast was made of 2,000 pounds of explosives. Two died, and because these two young infantrymen didn't have it in their DNA to run from danger, they saved 150 of their Iraqi and American brothers-in-arms.
When I read the situation report about the incident a few hours after it happened I called the regimental commander for details as something about this struck me as different. Marines dying or being seriously wounded is commonplace in combat. We expect Marines regardless of rank or MOS to stand their ground and do their duty, and even die in the process, if that is what the mission takes. But this just seemed different. The regimental commander had just returned from the site and he agreed, but reported that there were no American witnesses to the event-just Iraqi police. I figured if there was any chance of finding out what actually happened and then to decorate the two Marines to acknowledge their bravery, I'd have to do it as a combat award that requires two eye-witnesses and we figured the bureaucrats back in Washington would never buy Iraqi statements. If it had any chance at all, it had to come under the signature of a general officer.
I traveled to Ramadi the next day and spoke individually to a half-dozen Iraqi police all of whom told the same story. The blue truck turned down into the alley and immediately sped up as it made its way through the serpentine. They all said, "We knew immediately what was going on as soon as the two Marines began firing." The Iraqi police then related that some of them also fired, and then to a man, ran for safety just prior to the explosion. All survived. Many were injured.some seriously. One of the Iraqis elaborated and with tears welling up said, "They'd run like any normal man would to save his life." "What he didn't know until then," he said, "and what he learned that very instant, was that Marines are not normal." Choking past the emotion he said, "Sir, in the name of God no sane man would have stood there and done what they did." "No sane man."
"They saved us all."
What we didn't know at the time, and only learned a couple of days later after I wrote a summary and submitted both Yale and Haerter for posthumous Navy Crosses, was that one of our security cameras, damaged initially in the blast, recorded some of the suicide attack. It happened exactly as the Iraqis had described it. It took exactly six seconds from when the truck entered the alley until it detonated.
You can watch the last six seconds of their young lives. Putting myself in their heads I supposed it took about a second for the two Marines to separately come to the same conclusion about what was going on once the truck came into their view at the far end of the alley. Exactly no time to talk it over, or call the sergeant to ask what they should do. Only enough time to take half an instant and think about what the sergeant told them to do only a few minutes before: ".let no unauthorized personnel or vehicles pass." The two Marines had about five seconds left to live.
It took maybe another two seconds for them to present their weapons, take aim, and open up. By this time the truck was half-way through the barriers and gaining speed the whole time. Here, the recording shows a number of Iraqi police, some of whom had fired their AKs, now scattering like the normal and rational men they were-some running right past the Marines.
They had three seconds left to live.
For about two seconds more, the recording shows the Marines' weapons firing non-stop.the truck's windshield exploding into shards of glass as their rounds take it apart and tore in to the body of the SOB who is trying to get past them to kill their brothers-American and Iraqi-bedded down in the barracks totally unaware of the fact that their lives at that moment depended entirely on two Marines standing their ground. If they had been aware, they would have known they were safe.because two Marines stood between them and a crazed suicide bomber. The recording shows the truck careening to a stop immediately in front of the two Marines. In all of the instantaneous violence Yale and Haerter never hesitated. By all reports and by the recording, they never stepped back. They never even started to step aside. They never even shifted their weight. With their feet spread shoulder width apart, they leaned into the danger, firing as fast as they could work their weapons. They had only one second left to live.
The truck explodes. The camera goes blank. Two young men go to their God.
Six seconds. Not enough time to think about their families, their country, their flag, or about their lives or their deaths, but more than enough time for two very brave young men to do their duty.into eternity. That is the kind of people who are on watch all over the world tonight-for you.
We Marines believe that God gave America the greatest gift he could bestow to man while he lived on this earth-freedom. We also believe he gave us another gift nearly as precious-our soldiers, sailors, airmen, Coast Guardsmen, and Marines-to safeguard that gift and guarantee no force on this earth can every steal it away. It has been my distinct honor to have been with you here today. Rest assured our America, this experiment in democracy started over two centuries ago, will forever remain the "land of the free and home of the brave" so long as we never run out of tough young Americans who are willing to look beyond their own self-interest and comfortable lives, and go into the darkest and most dangerous places on earth to hunt down, and kill, those who would do us harm.
God Bless America , and..SEMPER FIDELIS!"
Please remember those who protect us, abroad and within our borders, in our states, towns and communities, every day. The men and women in uniform, whether it's military or civilian, are on duty 'round the clock, protecting us from one enemy or another, whether it's another man, a natural disaster, a fire.
May God Bless each and every one of them.
War. Gotta hate it. Can't understand it. For many, you don't get to live because of it. Countries, it seems, can't live without it.
But, these two marines were the subject of a speech by USMC Lt. General John Kelly, a speech he gave on 13 November to the Semper Fi Society of St. Louis. A speech he gave only four days after his son, Lt. Robert Kelly, was killed by and IED (a coward's bomb) on his third combat tour.
General Kelly never mentioned his son's death during his speech. He didn't make it personal. He is not a politician, looking to gain sympathy and votes any way he can. He's a warrior, and the leader of warriors. He's an American.
General Kelly did, however, highlight the last six seconds of two other marines killed by a coward, in the name of "religion". The last six seconds of the lives of two marines, doing their duty. An unimportant six seconds to news producers, but oh-so-important to these marines, their families, and the men they saved that day.
"I will leave you with a story about the kind of people they are.about the quality of the steel in their backs.about the kind of dedication they bring to our country while they serve in uniform and forever after as veterans.
Two years ago when I was the Commander of all U.S. and Iraqi forces, in fact, the 22nd of April 2008, two Marine infantry battalions, 1/9 "The Walking Dead," and 2/8 were switching out in Ramadi. One battalion in the closing days of their deployment going home very soon, the other just starting its seven-month combat tour. Two Marines, Corporal Jonathan Yale and Lance Corporal Jordan Haerter, 22 and 20 years old respectively, one from each battalion, were assuming the watch together at the entrance gate of an outpost that contained a makeshift barracks housing 50 Marines. The same broken down ramshackle building was also home to 100 Iraqi police, also my men and our allies in the fight against the terrorists in Ramadi, a city until recently the most dangerous city on earth and owned by Al Qaeda.
Yale was a dirt poor mixed-race kid from Virginia with a wife and daughter, and a mother and sister who lived with him and he supported as well. He did this on a yearly salary of less than $23,000. Haerter, on the other hand, was a middle class white kid from Long Island . They were from two completely different worlds. Had they not joined the Marines they would never have met each other, or understood that multiple America 's exist simultaneously depending on one's race, education level, economic status, and where you might have been born. But they were Marines, combat Marines, forged in the same crucible of Marine training, and because of this bond they were brothers as close, or closer, than if they were born of the same woman.
The mission orders they received from the sergeant squad leader I am sure went something like: "Okay you two clowns, stand this post and let no unauthorized personnel or vehicles pass." "You clear?" I am also sure Yale and Haerter then rolled their eyes and said in unison something like:
"Yes Sergeant," with just enough attitude that made the point without saying the words, "No kidding sweetheart, we know what we're doing." They then relieved two other Marines on watch and took up their post at the entry control point of Joint Security Station Nasser, in the Sophia section of Ramadi, Al Anbar, Iraq .
A few minutes later a large blue truck turned down the alley way-perhaps 60-70 yards in length-and sped its way through the serpentine of concrete jersey walls. The truck stopped just short of where the two were posted and detonated, killing them both catastrophically. Twenty-four brick masonry houses were damaged or destroyed. A mosque 100 yards away collapsed. The truck's engine came to rest two hundred yards away knocking most of a house down before it stopped. Our explosive experts reckoned the blast was made of 2,000 pounds of explosives. Two died, and because these two young infantrymen didn't have it in their DNA to run from danger, they saved 150 of their Iraqi and American brothers-in-arms.
When I read the situation report about the incident a few hours after it happened I called the regimental commander for details as something about this struck me as different. Marines dying or being seriously wounded is commonplace in combat. We expect Marines regardless of rank or MOS to stand their ground and do their duty, and even die in the process, if that is what the mission takes. But this just seemed different. The regimental commander had just returned from the site and he agreed, but reported that there were no American witnesses to the event-just Iraqi police. I figured if there was any chance of finding out what actually happened and then to decorate the two Marines to acknowledge their bravery, I'd have to do it as a combat award that requires two eye-witnesses and we figured the bureaucrats back in Washington would never buy Iraqi statements. If it had any chance at all, it had to come under the signature of a general officer.
I traveled to Ramadi the next day and spoke individually to a half-dozen Iraqi police all of whom told the same story. The blue truck turned down into the alley and immediately sped up as it made its way through the serpentine. They all said, "We knew immediately what was going on as soon as the two Marines began firing." The Iraqi police then related that some of them also fired, and then to a man, ran for safety just prior to the explosion. All survived. Many were injured.some seriously. One of the Iraqis elaborated and with tears welling up said, "They'd run like any normal man would to save his life." "What he didn't know until then," he said, "and what he learned that very instant, was that Marines are not normal." Choking past the emotion he said, "Sir, in the name of God no sane man would have stood there and done what they did." "No sane man."
"They saved us all."
What we didn't know at the time, and only learned a couple of days later after I wrote a summary and submitted both Yale and Haerter for posthumous Navy Crosses, was that one of our security cameras, damaged initially in the blast, recorded some of the suicide attack. It happened exactly as the Iraqis had described it. It took exactly six seconds from when the truck entered the alley until it detonated.
You can watch the last six seconds of their young lives. Putting myself in their heads I supposed it took about a second for the two Marines to separately come to the same conclusion about what was going on once the truck came into their view at the far end of the alley. Exactly no time to talk it over, or call the sergeant to ask what they should do. Only enough time to take half an instant and think about what the sergeant told them to do only a few minutes before: ".let no unauthorized personnel or vehicles pass." The two Marines had about five seconds left to live.
It took maybe another two seconds for them to present their weapons, take aim, and open up. By this time the truck was half-way through the barriers and gaining speed the whole time. Here, the recording shows a number of Iraqi police, some of whom had fired their AKs, now scattering like the normal and rational men they were-some running right past the Marines.
They had three seconds left to live.
For about two seconds more, the recording shows the Marines' weapons firing non-stop.the truck's windshield exploding into shards of glass as their rounds take it apart and tore in to the body of the SOB who is trying to get past them to kill their brothers-American and Iraqi-bedded down in the barracks totally unaware of the fact that their lives at that moment depended entirely on two Marines standing their ground. If they had been aware, they would have known they were safe.because two Marines stood between them and a crazed suicide bomber. The recording shows the truck careening to a stop immediately in front of the two Marines. In all of the instantaneous violence Yale and Haerter never hesitated. By all reports and by the recording, they never stepped back. They never even started to step aside. They never even shifted their weight. With their feet spread shoulder width apart, they leaned into the danger, firing as fast as they could work their weapons. They had only one second left to live.
The truck explodes. The camera goes blank. Two young men go to their God.
Six seconds. Not enough time to think about their families, their country, their flag, or about their lives or their deaths, but more than enough time for two very brave young men to do their duty.into eternity. That is the kind of people who are on watch all over the world tonight-for you.
We Marines believe that God gave America the greatest gift he could bestow to man while he lived on this earth-freedom. We also believe he gave us another gift nearly as precious-our soldiers, sailors, airmen, Coast Guardsmen, and Marines-to safeguard that gift and guarantee no force on this earth can every steal it away. It has been my distinct honor to have been with you here today. Rest assured our America, this experiment in democracy started over two centuries ago, will forever remain the "land of the free and home of the brave" so long as we never run out of tough young Americans who are willing to look beyond their own self-interest and comfortable lives, and go into the darkest and most dangerous places on earth to hunt down, and kill, those who would do us harm.
God Bless America , and..SEMPER FIDELIS!"
Please remember those who protect us, abroad and within our borders, in our states, towns and communities, every day. The men and women in uniform, whether it's military or civilian, are on duty 'round the clock, protecting us from one enemy or another, whether it's another man, a natural disaster, a fire.
May God Bless each and every one of them.
Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?
Tis that time of year.
Again.
First, there was Thanksgiving.
Now, Christmas is upon us.
Interesting thing about family and friends gathering on those holidays, especially. Food, of course, is at the forefront. And, that's as it should be. Friends and family, together, breaking bread. Better than exchanging gifts, what with all the commercialized nonsense that goes along with that chore.
But, one thing I've noted over the decades. One has to be able to either read minds, or actually translate the response one gets when extending invitations for the festivities.
All of us would love to have everyone we love to be with us on holidays. Not a reality, of course, for one reason or another. One GOOD reason is that the invitees have, oftentimes, two or more places they'd like to visit each holiday. Divorced parents, his/hers parents. Whatever. I remember some basic physics laws from school, one of which goes "you can't be in two places at the same time" (or words to that effect).
It's nice not to want to hurt anyone's feelings. But it's kinder to be upfront from the git-go, and come out with-- "hey, this year, we're going to Sally's parents' for Christmas". Instead, when the invite is offered, say around mid October, the lies begin.
I've learned to interpret responses to invitations, not just for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but for other events, as well.
The stage is set early.
"We haven't quite decided what we'll have to do this year. You know, we were at your house last Christmas, and Sally's mom really wants us to come there this year. However (the shimmer of hope word), you never know, and we really haven't decided, as yet. We could just as easily be with you".
Bravo Sierra, is about all I can say.
The translation, as I've come to learn, is thus: "We don't want to hurt your feelings, but we feel obligated to see Sally's parents. It's only fair, and I'm sure you can appreciate that. But, if we just keep you hanging on to a thread of hope, the hurt we cause at the last minute won't last as long, and we won't feel as guilty".
The decision was made, probably before October. I still cannot get why it's so hard to just spit it out. The hosts just want to know how much stuff to buy, how many places to set, whether they need to stock up on extra booze...whatever. Or, maybe...just maybe...they'd like a definite "no" so THEY can make other plans, and won't feel obligated to hang around until the last couple days to learn that you're not coming.
It's a bit late for this year, unless you're still keeping them hanging on to a glimmer of hope that you'll show up for Christmas lunch/dinner. If that's the case, be kind. Call them, tell them your plans. It's a kind thing to do. And, don't forget about that when you're making plans for next year.
And, now. For the other side.
Parents/grandparents/aunts/uncles, what-evah: don't make the people you'd like to share the holiday with you feel guilty if they tell you they have other plans. Don't pry into those plans, it's none of your business. Don't be persistent, offering to hold lunch until 2:00 so they can join you. Don't play your son or daughter against their spouse. "Oh, you'd rather go to Sally's parents for lunch than be with me. You can see them anytime. I'm getting old, you know, and this might be my last Chrismas. I'm not sure that I even want to celebrate this year. If you're not coming, there's no real need for me to get a tree. It'll be the first Christmas, ever, that I haven't put one up".
Pardon me while I get sick.
And, no, these are not stories from my personal experiences. They are, however, situations that friends, co-workers, and some of my former staff members have shared over the decades.
If you see yourself in either scenario, you might want to give it some thought.
Wherever you are at Christmas, I hope yours will be filled with the true Christmas spirit, that happiness will be with you.
Merry Christmas.
(No, this is not the last blog I will write before that day. I just wanted to tag out with it, ok?)
Again.
First, there was Thanksgiving.
Now, Christmas is upon us.
Interesting thing about family and friends gathering on those holidays, especially. Food, of course, is at the forefront. And, that's as it should be. Friends and family, together, breaking bread. Better than exchanging gifts, what with all the commercialized nonsense that goes along with that chore.
But, one thing I've noted over the decades. One has to be able to either read minds, or actually translate the response one gets when extending invitations for the festivities.
All of us would love to have everyone we love to be with us on holidays. Not a reality, of course, for one reason or another. One GOOD reason is that the invitees have, oftentimes, two or more places they'd like to visit each holiday. Divorced parents, his/hers parents. Whatever. I remember some basic physics laws from school, one of which goes "you can't be in two places at the same time" (or words to that effect).
It's nice not to want to hurt anyone's feelings. But it's kinder to be upfront from the git-go, and come out with-- "hey, this year, we're going to Sally's parents' for Christmas". Instead, when the invite is offered, say around mid October, the lies begin.
I've learned to interpret responses to invitations, not just for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but for other events, as well.
The stage is set early.
"We haven't quite decided what we'll have to do this year. You know, we were at your house last Christmas, and Sally's mom really wants us to come there this year. However (the shimmer of hope word), you never know, and we really haven't decided, as yet. We could just as easily be with you".
Bravo Sierra, is about all I can say.
The translation, as I've come to learn, is thus: "We don't want to hurt your feelings, but we feel obligated to see Sally's parents. It's only fair, and I'm sure you can appreciate that. But, if we just keep you hanging on to a thread of hope, the hurt we cause at the last minute won't last as long, and we won't feel as guilty".
The decision was made, probably before October. I still cannot get why it's so hard to just spit it out. The hosts just want to know how much stuff to buy, how many places to set, whether they need to stock up on extra booze...whatever. Or, maybe...just maybe...they'd like a definite "no" so THEY can make other plans, and won't feel obligated to hang around until the last couple days to learn that you're not coming.
It's a bit late for this year, unless you're still keeping them hanging on to a glimmer of hope that you'll show up for Christmas lunch/dinner. If that's the case, be kind. Call them, tell them your plans. It's a kind thing to do. And, don't forget about that when you're making plans for next year.
And, now. For the other side.
Parents/grandparents/aunts/uncles, what-evah: don't make the people you'd like to share the holiday with you feel guilty if they tell you they have other plans. Don't pry into those plans, it's none of your business. Don't be persistent, offering to hold lunch until 2:00 so they can join you. Don't play your son or daughter against their spouse. "Oh, you'd rather go to Sally's parents for lunch than be with me. You can see them anytime. I'm getting old, you know, and this might be my last Chrismas. I'm not sure that I even want to celebrate this year. If you're not coming, there's no real need for me to get a tree. It'll be the first Christmas, ever, that I haven't put one up".
Pardon me while I get sick.
And, no, these are not stories from my personal experiences. They are, however, situations that friends, co-workers, and some of my former staff members have shared over the decades.
If you see yourself in either scenario, you might want to give it some thought.
Wherever you are at Christmas, I hope yours will be filled with the true Christmas spirit, that happiness will be with you.
Merry Christmas.
(No, this is not the last blog I will write before that day. I just wanted to tag out with it, ok?)
Monday, December 13, 2010
TSA..."where the stupid started"
TSA: Those Stoopid Arses.
I can't think of a better description. Things have really gotten out of hand. Common sense has disappeared. It's been replaced by TSA inspectors.
Granted, some sort of action had to be taken to safeguard this country from increasingly cunning terrorists who want to kill us. Yep. That's the bottom line, they want to KILL us. Not because we're at war. Just because we are us.
In the process of protecting us, the government came up with Homeland Security.
Not a bad idea, I suppose.
And, they gave the Coast Guard, which had been part of the US Department of Justice, a role in protecting our shorelines from these guys who want to KILL us. Sure seems like the shores are safe from invasion. The Coasties are taking their jobs seriously. And, from all reports, professionally. No groping.
That was one part of the plan.
The plan has evolved over the past decade. We have airport security guards. TSA inspectors. Those men and women who are charged with making sure none of us board an airplane with nail clippers or anything else that could be used as a "weapon" to take over a plane and crash it into the White House, or another high profile target, creating another 9-11 tragedy.
Ok, so far, so good.
Really?
It's true that any half-trained US (and many foreign) commando can pretty much use anything as a weapon. That includes even those little plastic knives, forks and spoons we get on planes. In fact, there are non-metallic composite daggers and knives that have been sold all over the world, claiming they can't be detected by metal screeners. And, it's true. These weapons can be driven through a 2x4 with a hammer. I know. I bought two and tried them out. As part of a story I was preparing when I was a TV journalist.
But, was anything done to stop the production and sale of these devices? Of course not. Homeland Securty, with it's wide range of super-powers, took no action.
They did step up the screening process at airports.
They continue to confiscate nail clippers and bottles of shampoo, mouthwash, and the like. In large quantities. You might not be aware that this contraband is later sold. Yep, I have bought some of it at flea markets. Got a couple really neat multi-purpose screwdriver/pliers tools for a buck each. Never found any good deals on any bombs or guns they seized, though.
Now surfaces the story of a group of heavily armed US soldiers coming home. On a civilian plane, which is often the practice.
The "cleaned up" version:
>> As the Chalk Leader (this is the guy who handles on-board logistics for the troops) for my flight home from Afghanistan , I witnessed the following:
>>
>> When we were on our way back from Afghanistan , we flew out of Baghram
>> Air Field. We went through customs at BAF, full body scanners (no
>> groping), had all of our bags searched, the whole nine yards.
>> Our first stop was Shannon , Ireland to refuel. After that, we had to
>> stop at Indianapolis , Indiana to drop off about 100 folks from the
>> Indiana National Guard. That's where the stupid started.
>>
>> First, everyone was forced to get off the plane-even though the plane
>> wasn't refueling again. All 330 people got off that plane, rather than
>> let the 100 people from the ING get off. We were filed from the plane to
>> a holding area. No vending machines, no means of escape. Only a
>> male/female latrine.
>>
>> It's probably important to mention that we were ALL carrying weapons.
>> Everyone was carrying an M4 Carbine (rifle) and some, like me, were also
>> carrying an M9 pistol. Oh, and our gunners had M-240B machine guns. Of
>> course, the weapons weren't loaded. And we had been cleared of all ammo
>> well before we even got to customs at Baghram, then AGAIN at customs.
>>
>> The TSA personnel at the airport seriously considered making us unload
>> all of the baggage from the SECURE cargo hold to have it reinspected.
>> Keep in mind, this cargo had been unpacked, inspected piece by piece by
>> U.S. Customs officials, resealed and had bomb-sniffing dogs give it a
>> one-hour run through. After two hours of sitting in this holding area,
>> the TSA decided not to reinspect our Cargo-just to inspect us again:
>> Soldiers on the way home from war, who had already been inspected,
>> reinspected and kept in a SECURE holding area for 2 hours. Ok, whatever.
>> So we lined up to go through security AGAIN.
>>
>> This is probably another good time to remind you all that all of us were
>> carrying actual assault rifles, and some of us were also carrying
>> pistols.
>>
>> So we're in line, going through one at a time. One of our Soldiers had
>> his Gerber multi-tool. TSA confiscated it. Kind of ridiculous, but it
>> gets better. A few minutes later, a guy empties his pockets and has a
>> pair of nail clippers. Nail clippers. TSA informs the Soldier that
>> they're going to confiscate his nail clippers. The conversation went
>> something like this:
>>
>> TSA Guy: You can't take those on the plane.
>>
>> Soldier: What? I've had them since we left country.
>>
>> TSA Guy: You're not suppose to have them.
>>
>> Soldier: Why?
>>
>> TSA Guy: They can be used as a weapon.
>>
>> Soldier: [touches butt stock of the rifle] But this actually is a
>> weapon. And I'm allowed to take it on.
>>
>> TSA Guy: Yeah but you can't use it to take over the plane. You don't
>> have bullets.
>>
>> Soldier: And I can take over the plane with nail clippers?
>>
>> TSA Guy: [awkward silence]
>>
>> Me: Dude, just give him your damn nail clippers so we can get ... out of here. I'll buy you a new set.
>>
>> Soldier: [hands nail clippers to TSA guy, makes it through security]
>> To top it off, the tsa demanded we all be swabbed for "explosive
>> residue" detection. Everyone failed, [go figure, we just came home from
>> a war zone], because we tested positive for "Gun Powder Residue". Who
>> ... is hiring these people?
>>
>> This might be a good time to remind everyone that approximately 233
>> people re-boarded that plane with assault rifles, pistols, and machine
>> guns-but nothing that could have been used as a weapon.
>> Can someone please tell me: What ... happened to OUR country while
>> we were gone?
I wish I could answer that one, Soldier. Seems somebody got a bad case of the stupid. I guess one way of reducing unemplyment is to hire additional TSA inspectors. It would be interesting to look over the backgrounds of those they hire. I'll bet that the ones that didn't make it through screening are a really strange breed.
Keep in mind, as you're being groped next time you're flying out of an airport, that TSA has not profiled anyone on the plane with you. But, you're perfectly safe because no one is armed with nail clippers or deadly mouthwash (having flown with some oddball co-passengers in close quarters over the years, I really wish Homeland Security would actually force them to use mouthwash AND deodorant).
I can't think of a better description. Things have really gotten out of hand. Common sense has disappeared. It's been replaced by TSA inspectors.
Granted, some sort of action had to be taken to safeguard this country from increasingly cunning terrorists who want to kill us. Yep. That's the bottom line, they want to KILL us. Not because we're at war. Just because we are us.
In the process of protecting us, the government came up with Homeland Security.
Not a bad idea, I suppose.
And, they gave the Coast Guard, which had been part of the US Department of Justice, a role in protecting our shorelines from these guys who want to KILL us. Sure seems like the shores are safe from invasion. The Coasties are taking their jobs seriously. And, from all reports, professionally. No groping.
That was one part of the plan.
The plan has evolved over the past decade. We have airport security guards. TSA inspectors. Those men and women who are charged with making sure none of us board an airplane with nail clippers or anything else that could be used as a "weapon" to take over a plane and crash it into the White House, or another high profile target, creating another 9-11 tragedy.
Ok, so far, so good.
Really?
It's true that any half-trained US (and many foreign) commando can pretty much use anything as a weapon. That includes even those little plastic knives, forks and spoons we get on planes. In fact, there are non-metallic composite daggers and knives that have been sold all over the world, claiming they can't be detected by metal screeners. And, it's true. These weapons can be driven through a 2x4 with a hammer. I know. I bought two and tried them out. As part of a story I was preparing when I was a TV journalist.
But, was anything done to stop the production and sale of these devices? Of course not. Homeland Securty, with it's wide range of super-powers, took no action.
They did step up the screening process at airports.
They continue to confiscate nail clippers and bottles of shampoo, mouthwash, and the like. In large quantities. You might not be aware that this contraband is later sold. Yep, I have bought some of it at flea markets. Got a couple really neat multi-purpose screwdriver/pliers tools for a buck each. Never found any good deals on any bombs or guns they seized, though.
Now surfaces the story of a group of heavily armed US soldiers coming home. On a civilian plane, which is often the practice.
The "cleaned up" version:
>> As the Chalk Leader (this is the guy who handles on-board logistics for the troops) for my flight home from Afghanistan , I witnessed the following:
>>
>> When we were on our way back from Afghanistan , we flew out of Baghram
>> Air Field. We went through customs at BAF, full body scanners (no
>> groping), had all of our bags searched, the whole nine yards.
>> Our first stop was Shannon , Ireland to refuel. After that, we had to
>> stop at Indianapolis , Indiana to drop off about 100 folks from the
>> Indiana National Guard. That's where the stupid started.
>>
>> First, everyone was forced to get off the plane-even though the plane
>> wasn't refueling again. All 330 people got off that plane, rather than
>> let the 100 people from the ING get off. We were filed from the plane to
>> a holding area. No vending machines, no means of escape. Only a
>> male/female latrine.
>>
>> It's probably important to mention that we were ALL carrying weapons.
>> Everyone was carrying an M4 Carbine (rifle) and some, like me, were also
>> carrying an M9 pistol. Oh, and our gunners had M-240B machine guns. Of
>> course, the weapons weren't loaded. And we had been cleared of all ammo
>> well before we even got to customs at Baghram, then AGAIN at customs.
>>
>> The TSA personnel at the airport seriously considered making us unload
>> all of the baggage from the SECURE cargo hold to have it reinspected.
>> Keep in mind, this cargo had been unpacked, inspected piece by piece by
>> U.S. Customs officials, resealed and had bomb-sniffing dogs give it a
>> one-hour run through. After two hours of sitting in this holding area,
>> the TSA decided not to reinspect our Cargo-just to inspect us again:
>> Soldiers on the way home from war, who had already been inspected,
>> reinspected and kept in a SECURE holding area for 2 hours. Ok, whatever.
>> So we lined up to go through security AGAIN.
>>
>> This is probably another good time to remind you all that all of us were
>> carrying actual assault rifles, and some of us were also carrying
>> pistols.
>>
>> So we're in line, going through one at a time. One of our Soldiers had
>> his Gerber multi-tool. TSA confiscated it. Kind of ridiculous, but it
>> gets better. A few minutes later, a guy empties his pockets and has a
>> pair of nail clippers. Nail clippers. TSA informs the Soldier that
>> they're going to confiscate his nail clippers. The conversation went
>> something like this:
>>
>> TSA Guy: You can't take those on the plane.
>>
>> Soldier: What? I've had them since we left country.
>>
>> TSA Guy: You're not suppose to have them.
>>
>> Soldier: Why?
>>
>> TSA Guy: They can be used as a weapon.
>>
>> Soldier: [touches butt stock of the rifle] But this actually is a
>> weapon. And I'm allowed to take it on.
>>
>> TSA Guy: Yeah but you can't use it to take over the plane. You don't
>> have bullets.
>>
>> Soldier: And I can take over the plane with nail clippers?
>>
>> TSA Guy: [awkward silence]
>>
>> Me: Dude, just give him your damn nail clippers so we can get ... out of here. I'll buy you a new set.
>>
>> Soldier: [hands nail clippers to TSA guy, makes it through security]
>> To top it off, the tsa demanded we all be swabbed for "explosive
>> residue" detection. Everyone failed, [go figure, we just came home from
>> a war zone], because we tested positive for "Gun Powder Residue". Who
>> ... is hiring these people?
>>
>> This might be a good time to remind everyone that approximately 233
>> people re-boarded that plane with assault rifles, pistols, and machine
>> guns-but nothing that could have been used as a weapon.
>> Can someone please tell me: What ... happened to OUR country while
>> we were gone?
I wish I could answer that one, Soldier. Seems somebody got a bad case of the stupid. I guess one way of reducing unemplyment is to hire additional TSA inspectors. It would be interesting to look over the backgrounds of those they hire. I'll bet that the ones that didn't make it through screening are a really strange breed.
Keep in mind, as you're being groped next time you're flying out of an airport, that TSA has not profiled anyone on the plane with you. But, you're perfectly safe because no one is armed with nail clippers or deadly mouthwash (having flown with some oddball co-passengers in close quarters over the years, I really wish Homeland Security would actually force them to use mouthwash AND deodorant).
Thursday, December 9, 2010
I am Polarized
A lot of people are described as being "polarizing". Those who like them, really like 'em; those who don't, really don't.
But, I'm gonna discuss a different type of "polarizing".
It's a filter.
Goes on the front of your camera lens.
For you non-shutterbugs, it's those sunglasses that take the glare off the water, or off your car's windshield.
Polarizing filters act the same way. They can subdue glare, and often make for a much "richer" image. Passing by a demolition site earlier today, a lone satellite dish on top of a pole caught my eye. The sky (not skies...there's really only one, in spite of what TV weather guys say almost every night) was a rich, royal blue. Low humidity contributes to this. Too bad there were no white, billowy clouds, to make it even more pronounced.
Picture number one. The scene without a polarizer:
Looks nice, and all that. With a little enhancement, courtesy of PhotoShop, I could spruce it up a touch. But, as a photographer that started with film (and I still love it), you gotta shoot it right, under most conditions, to get the perfect image. Especially when dealing with transparency films. Not a lot of enhancement opportunities, and film is not very forgiving.
Now, picture number 2. With a circular polarizing filter.
Much richer.
On the water, at the beach, or on snow scenes (once the sun comes out), you'll be impressed at what a polarizer can do for you. Don't buy those $4 ones, though. Remember, you're putting something between your subject and an expensive lens. You don't want to degrade your image. Good quality polarizers, depending on their sizes, can cost $40-$100.
Pick up one. And, good shooting.
But, I'm gonna discuss a different type of "polarizing".
It's a filter.
Goes on the front of your camera lens.
For you non-shutterbugs, it's those sunglasses that take the glare off the water, or off your car's windshield.
Polarizing filters act the same way. They can subdue glare, and often make for a much "richer" image. Passing by a demolition site earlier today, a lone satellite dish on top of a pole caught my eye. The sky (not skies...there's really only one, in spite of what TV weather guys say almost every night) was a rich, royal blue. Low humidity contributes to this. Too bad there were no white, billowy clouds, to make it even more pronounced.
Picture number one. The scene without a polarizer:
Now, picture number 2. With a circular polarizing filter.
On the water, at the beach, or on snow scenes (once the sun comes out), you'll be impressed at what a polarizer can do for you. Don't buy those $4 ones, though. Remember, you're putting something between your subject and an expensive lens. You don't want to degrade your image. Good quality polarizers, depending on their sizes, can cost $40-$100.
Pick up one. And, good shooting.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Guam is going to Tip Over
The U.S. House has a bunch of "representatives".
They help run this great nation of ours.
Some are smart, some are not.
And, some are just downright stupid.
I cannot...I really cannot...believe that real people elected this clown . The video, alone, is probable cause enough to launch an investigation into voter fraud. There's really no other explantion.
They help run this great nation of ours.
Some are smart, some are not.
And, some are just downright stupid.
I cannot...I really cannot...believe that real people elected this clown . The video, alone, is probable cause enough to launch an investigation into voter fraud. There's really no other explantion.
If, for some reason, this does not open, and you need some serious comic relief, send me an e-mail, and I will forward it to you.
Monday, December 6, 2010
"Where's the Line to see Jesus?"
An interesting story goes with this attachment. You may have seen it by now...or, you may not. It's pretty good, and you don't need to know much. The words tell it all.
The song was inspired by a small boy, in the store, who wanted to know where he should wait in line to see Jesus.
There's a lot more, but you will get the drift from the song.
Crank up your speakers and pay attention.
http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=pPViKJRHyZo&vq=medium
The song was inspired by a small boy, in the store, who wanted to know where he should wait in line to see Jesus.
There's a lot more, but you will get the drift from the song.
Crank up your speakers and pay attention.
http://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=pPViKJRHyZo&vq=medium
Sunday, December 5, 2010
"I Like Guns"
This is a little "extra" sent to me.
You might like it.
You might not.
It's kinda cute.
And, though I have a bit more hair,
This guy could be me.
http://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&ik=5dc8bc4895&view=att&th=12cb321e575aee3f&attid=0.1&disp=attd&zw
You might like it.
You might not.
It's kinda cute.
And, though I have a bit more hair,
This guy could be me.
http://mail.google.com/mail/?ui=2&ik=5dc8bc4895&view=att&th=12cb321e575aee3f&attid=0.1&disp=attd&zw
CHRISTmas
Yep. Do not take Christ out of Christmas. I had an elementary school teacher...can't remember which year...that was totally opposed to abbreviating Christmas as "Xmas". She said it took Christ our of Christmas. With everything going on today around this annual celebration of the birth of Christ, I wonder how she would feel about the "Happy Holidays" crap.
Oh, well...enough of that.
The Jacksonville (NC) Rotary Club-sponsored flotilla was this past Saturday night. Here, in the sunny South (yes, with a capital S), the last thing we expected on 4 December were a few snow flakes/flurries, and either frezing rain or sleet (there is a difference, I know, but when ice falls from the sky as little chunks, I could care less what you call it. Meteorologists can explain it, and get upset if I call it the wrong thing...you know, meteorologists. The guys who daily report clear, overcast, sunny...whatever..."skies". Like there is more than one?). But, ice pellets and a few snow flakes actually appeared for the annual Christmas Flotilla.
Nice.
A mood setter, for sure.
The boats were decorated with loving care.
It was fun for all, including yours truly and his crew of a half dozen, or so.
By the way, thanks to the Jacksonville (NC) Daily News for sending a photog out. The pictures in the Sunday paper were nice. I'm sure all appreciated the coverage. The photos here are from me.
Merry CHRISTmas to all.
Oh, well...enough of that.
The Jacksonville (NC) Rotary Club-sponsored flotilla was this past Saturday night. Here, in the sunny South (yes, with a capital S), the last thing we expected on 4 December were a few snow flakes/flurries, and either frezing rain or sleet (there is a difference, I know, but when ice falls from the sky as little chunks, I could care less what you call it. Meteorologists can explain it, and get upset if I call it the wrong thing...you know, meteorologists. The guys who daily report clear, overcast, sunny...whatever..."skies". Like there is more than one?). But, ice pellets and a few snow flakes actually appeared for the annual Christmas Flotilla.
Nice.
A mood setter, for sure.
The boats were decorated with loving care.
Reflections dancing in the water. Crowds lined the bridge along Old Bridge Street (closed to vehicle traffic for the event).
Boats, big and little. Every skipper was proud.
My dad would have been proud. This was his boat. A small one, great for clamming. And, the Tarplees did a bang-up job in making her shine for the evening.
Lotsa boats. Lotsa fun. If you have a boat, you've got a year to make her ready. And, Robie (my wife) and I have plans to make ours sing out Lima Charlie in 2011 (you don't know what that means? Ask any serviceman or former serviceman).
By the way, thanks to the Jacksonville (NC) Daily News for sending a photog out. The pictures in the Sunday paper were nice. I'm sure all appreciated the coverage. The photos here are from me.
Merry CHRISTmas to all.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Lights, Camera, Action
...with an emphasis on ACTION!!!!!
The advanced shutterbugs among you know about this, so you can probably just move on.
With today's cameras that do pretty much everything but cook dinner, there's not a lot of thinking involved in getting a good picture. And, that's not necessarily bad.
But, it's not totally good, either.
By their very description, "still" pictures are just that. They don't move. When you snap the shutter, you've frozen a moment in time.
That moment is when it all happens. And "moments" vary in just how long they are.
You can, with the right shutter speed, stop a hummingbird's wings, and even a bullet moving at 3000 feet per second. That's a real quick moment. And, there are times when photographers want to do just that.
But, there are other times when a photographer may want to show a little action in his pictures. Here are a couple examples I shot yesterday.
You'll note the blades in the top shot of the Osprey are virtually frozen. This was at the "automatic-program" setting on my Nikon D300. The shutter speed was programmed for 1/500th of a second, a part of the camera's automation package. Pretty fast, but not mind boggling. Fast enough to "almost" stop the props dead in their tracks.
The problem with a shot like that is the whole pictrue looks like it's a fake. A model, posed against a gray seamless background. Blah.
Next shot...I set the camera to Shutter priority, and selected a shutter speed of 1/60th of a second. The D300 adjusted the aperature for the conditions of the moment. I could have used an even longer exposure, i.e., slower shutter speed, but handholding this shot with a zoom set at about 250 mm was all I could manage, and keep the camera steady. No need to add camera blur to the process.
The blades, you'll note, are blurred. Not from camera motion, but because they're turning. It adds life to the picture.
Action! if you will.
This works well with moving water, too. Set your camera on a tripod, and adjust the shutter speed so you'll be shooting at 1/4 to 1/15th of a second (always fun and educational to experiment), and take some shots of a brook or stream. A waterfall is a great subject for long shutter speeds.
Not a lot of waterfalls in eastern NC, but we do have the ocean. And, that big body of water is always moving.
Set your camera on a sturdy tripod. Best time is after sunset, and with a full moon (keep the moon out of the picture area), and expose the scene for about 30 seconds. If you are near a fishing pier, put that in part of the frame for a reference. If the pier has lights on it, you'll need to set your aperature manually. Otherwise, the pier's lights will confuse your camera.
You will be surprised at just how artistic you can be with your camera.
(Oh, yeah. Make sure your flash is turned off for these exposures)
The advanced shutterbugs among you know about this, so you can probably just move on.
With today's cameras that do pretty much everything but cook dinner, there's not a lot of thinking involved in getting a good picture. And, that's not necessarily bad.
But, it's not totally good, either.
By their very description, "still" pictures are just that. They don't move. When you snap the shutter, you've frozen a moment in time.
That moment is when it all happens. And "moments" vary in just how long they are.
You can, with the right shutter speed, stop a hummingbird's wings, and even a bullet moving at 3000 feet per second. That's a real quick moment. And, there are times when photographers want to do just that.
But, there are other times when a photographer may want to show a little action in his pictures. Here are a couple examples I shot yesterday.
The problem with a shot like that is the whole pictrue looks like it's a fake. A model, posed against a gray seamless background. Blah.
Next shot...I set the camera to Shutter priority, and selected a shutter speed of 1/60th of a second. The D300 adjusted the aperature for the conditions of the moment. I could have used an even longer exposure, i.e., slower shutter speed, but handholding this shot with a zoom set at about 250 mm was all I could manage, and keep the camera steady. No need to add camera blur to the process.
The blades, you'll note, are blurred. Not from camera motion, but because they're turning. It adds life to the picture.
Action! if you will.
This works well with moving water, too. Set your camera on a tripod, and adjust the shutter speed so you'll be shooting at 1/4 to 1/15th of a second (always fun and educational to experiment), and take some shots of a brook or stream. A waterfall is a great subject for long shutter speeds.
Not a lot of waterfalls in eastern NC, but we do have the ocean. And, that big body of water is always moving.
Set your camera on a sturdy tripod. Best time is after sunset, and with a full moon (keep the moon out of the picture area), and expose the scene for about 30 seconds. If you are near a fishing pier, put that in part of the frame for a reference. If the pier has lights on it, you'll need to set your aperature manually. Otherwise, the pier's lights will confuse your camera.
You will be surprised at just how artistic you can be with your camera.
(Oh, yeah. Make sure your flash is turned off for these exposures)
Fresh Trout
Thanks to a fishing friend, I ended up with another speckled trout last night. I was prepping my boat for the Saturday night flotilla in Jacksonville (NC) when lo and behold, Duane pulled up to the docks at Tideline Marine.
Duane, you must understand, loves fishing. But, he doesn't eat a lot of fish. Almost none. But, he loves catching them. In most cases, he catches, then turns 'em loose. Duane is a true sportsman. He will save one now and then to give to anyone who wants fresh fish. Like yesterday. He had a 20 inch speck in his live bait tank (he would have turned it loose if no takers were on hand).
Now, I could tell you where Duane was fishing. But, in keeping with the true spirit of fishing, I'll only tell you that he caught this beaute "in the mouth". Yes, he was fishing in New River. Sort of. Not far from Jacksonville. Not too far. Part of the fun of fishing is finding the fish. Go out, take some time, do some exploring. Even if you don't find 'em, you'll have a great day on the water.
I could also tell you the bait Duane used. But that would do no good. What they were biting on yesterday isn't necessarily what they prefer today. Best to take a variety of old reliables...MirrO lures, and various colors and styles of plastics.
I'm getting a lot of reports of lots of trout. Some say they have caught 75 or a hundred in one day. A lot of fun, they said, but almost all were very small, and ended up going back in the drink so they could grow up. But, as I've reported before, there are some nice 'uns out there. Including the one Duane brought back.
My wife, Robie, and I had Duane's trout for dinner last night. I used a variation of a recipe that a couple really good friends shared last month. I didn't have everything on hand, so...in keeping with the way I do things...I improvised.
First, You Take and Onion
1 large yellow onion, sliced and chunked
2 medium size yellow squash, sliced about a quater inch thick
2 carrots, cut into one inch pieces. Slice the "big end" of the carrots. Make it the same size as the small end.
Prep
a tad of olive oil on the bottom of a baking dish (ok, about 12 inches long)
line the squash on the bottom of the pan
salt and pepper the squash...I also added a little "secret" spice; feel free to use Old Bay here
sprinkle part of the onions on top of the squash
add the trout filets (I always skin mine...oh, yeah...gotta give you a lesson on that, as promised)
add salt, pepper and any spice you like to the fish
sprinkle the rest of the diced onion to the top of the fish
add a small amount of lemon juice or lime juice to the fish
cover the dish with foil or a lid
pre-heat oven to 430 degrees...yep, seems a bit hot, but it works
cook, covered, for about 30-40 minutes
remove cover and cook until carrots are done
I went one further step last night. Once everything was ready, I kicked the broiler on "high", and put the uncovered dish under the broiler for about a minute. It added a slight crust to the fish.
Serve immediately. It's really, really very good. And, it's soooo simple.
I can see all sorts of variations...and, I'll be giving them a whirl.
Once Duane shows up at the docks with more fish. He says he has caught and released a number of red fish of late, too. He didn't know anyone who wanted them!!!
Now, he does.
Good cooking and good eating, ya'll.
Nice Boat, too
(Notice that Power Pole on the stern? That's the bomb!)
A heckuva nice fish
Now, I could tell you where Duane was fishing. But, in keeping with the true spirit of fishing, I'll only tell you that he caught this beaute "in the mouth". Yes, he was fishing in New River. Sort of. Not far from Jacksonville. Not too far. Part of the fun of fishing is finding the fish. Go out, take some time, do some exploring. Even if you don't find 'em, you'll have a great day on the water.
I could also tell you the bait Duane used. But that would do no good. What they were biting on yesterday isn't necessarily what they prefer today. Best to take a variety of old reliables...MirrO lures, and various colors and styles of plastics.
I'm getting a lot of reports of lots of trout. Some say they have caught 75 or a hundred in one day. A lot of fun, they said, but almost all were very small, and ended up going back in the drink so they could grow up. But, as I've reported before, there are some nice 'uns out there. Including the one Duane brought back.
My wife, Robie, and I had Duane's trout for dinner last night. I used a variation of a recipe that a couple really good friends shared last month. I didn't have everything on hand, so...in keeping with the way I do things...I improvised.
First, You Take and Onion
1 large yellow onion, sliced and chunked
2 medium size yellow squash, sliced about a quater inch thick
2 carrots, cut into one inch pieces. Slice the "big end" of the carrots. Make it the same size as the small end.
Prep
a tad of olive oil on the bottom of a baking dish (ok, about 12 inches long)
line the squash on the bottom of the pan
salt and pepper the squash...I also added a little "secret" spice; feel free to use Old Bay here
sprinkle part of the onions on top of the squash
add the trout filets (I always skin mine...oh, yeah...gotta give you a lesson on that, as promised)
add salt, pepper and any spice you like to the fish
sprinkle the rest of the diced onion to the top of the fish
add a small amount of lemon juice or lime juice to the fish
cover the dish with foil or a lid
pre-heat oven to 430 degrees...yep, seems a bit hot, but it works
cook, covered, for about 30-40 minutes
remove cover and cook until carrots are done
I went one further step last night. Once everything was ready, I kicked the broiler on "high", and put the uncovered dish under the broiler for about a minute. It added a slight crust to the fish.
Serve immediately. It's really, really very good. And, it's soooo simple.
I can see all sorts of variations...and, I'll be giving them a whirl.
Once Duane shows up at the docks with more fish. He says he has caught and released a number of red fish of late, too. He didn't know anyone who wanted them!!!
Now, he does.
Good cooking and good eating, ya'll.
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