The Lesson Learned....

I was scrubbing a pan in the kitchen tonight, finishing up the work Julie had started, when it all came back to me. Julie had done a good job on a baking rack and pan, but when I looked at the chrome finish I saw small stains, brownish discoloration and some grease spots. Nothing really, done well by anyones standards, but I knew the pan wasn't quite finished. There is something about an even slightly spotted pot or pan that takes me back and reminds me of one of the best lessons that I've ever had.

During the summer of 1969 I was in Army ROTC basic training at Ft. Sill, Oklahoma and one fateful day my turn came up on the KP roster. Kitchen Police. Slave labor. 24 hours in the mess hall with maybe a chance to catch 3 hours sleep on the 50 lb. potato sacks. Supervised by mess NCO's who were nothing to be trifled with. In that older army the mess NCO's were a class to themselves. Mean, surly and hard working. Few officers tried to pull rank on them. They did their jobs and they were left alone...a tough bunch who served some pretty damn good chow. But here I learned a lesson as valuable as any I have ever had.

One of my chores was to scrub and wash all the major pots and pans after the dinner meal. Not an insignificant amount of metal implements, large metal implements. Late into the night I scrubbed and when I declared myself finished I thought I had done a fairly good job. However when the Assistant Mess Sergeant did a cursory inspection he looked me right in the eye and said, "Private, that's the worse bunch of horsexxxx I've ever seen in my life, that's a half-ass job and you're a sorry piece of xxxx, do them all over again". Hot, exhausted and grimy, I was about to offer a "But Sergeant.....", when I took a look at his face, took a look at my work and said nothing. I did them all over again.

About 2 A.M. as I remember, the senior Mess Sergeant, an E-8, stopped by and asked why I was still at the pots and pans. I told him my sad tale. This grizzled veteran of Korea and two tours in Vietnam sat down with me and said this: "Son, you are training to be a United States Army officer. Probably you are going to be leading men into combat. Their lives depend on your skill, integrity and judgement. If you're willing to do a half-assed job on something as simple as scrubbing a pot, you're setting yourself up to do a half-assed job on the more important things, things that could get people killed. I hope you'll remember this".

And you know what Sergeant...to this day, 35 years later, I do.

Hangin' with the Doobies....the full story

Julie and me with Doobie Pat Simmons

The Doobie Brothers were in town and we were there. Wouldn't have missed it. And as you may have read several weeks ago, we were provided backstage passes by Cris Simmons, wife of co-head Doobie Pat Simmons. We wouldn't have missed it even without this special invitation.

The concert was magnificent, especially in a smaller venue which allows an upclose experience. The darkened stage was awakened by the gut wrenching rumble of a Harley and when the lights came up, there were the Doobies into the first chords of "Rockin' down the highway"

Got those highway blues, can't you hear my motor runnin', Flyin' down the road with my foot on the floor

The crowd went bonkers as they transitioned into "Jesus is just alright with me.." Non-stop hits for about 30 minutes and then somewhat of a respite as they performed some of their more recent cuts including Pat Simmons on a Hawaiian slack key guitar number and some blues. Great stuff.

The final half an hour was filled with some of their biggest hits, and as the beer and hard rock n' roll worked it's magic on the crowd people started edging towards the stage. And so did we as the time had come for us to worry about getting backstage after the frenzy. So for 15 minutes or so, we stood about 25 feet in front of the Doobies, but very near the backstage entrance.

I had prepared myself for a throng of perhaps 100 people backstage and probably just the chance to say a quick hell-o to Pat Simmons and tell him the "We Were Soldiers" photos I had sent to Cris and him were on the way to his home. And maybe get one quick photo with him. We had met the Doobies road manager a few moments earlier and he quickly ushered us back without much of a wait.

What we found backstage had us dumbstruck. Instead of a hoarde of wellwishers, Julie and I basically found ourselves alone with the Doobies and only three or four other VIP's including the kid who had bought the Doobies signed guitar at the auction before the show. We walked into the room and there were my rock n' roll heroes all eating dinner. I introduced myself to Cris Simmons and then we decided to give the guys some privacy while they finished their steaks.

As we stepped out of the room back towards the stage, I spied drummer Mike Hossack and introduced myself. After explaining who I was we got into a friendly conversation about the military [he is a Vietnam Vet..Navy] and the subject of the movie "We Were Soldiers" came up [I had my WWS movie hat on]. Turns out he has seen the movie 6 or 7 times and when I told him that I would be glad to get him an autographed book and photo similar to the one I gave to Pat Simmons, he was so overjoyed he gave me his home mailing address...with instructions that he'd kill me if it got into the hands of groupies.

Mike, Julie and I walked back into the performers lounge and had a nice chat with Cris Simmons who led us over to hubby Pat with the comment, "this is Wallace, the one who's sending the WWS photos". This intitiated the start of a great talk with Pat, photos all around and my mentioning that the We Were Soldiers survivors have a reunion in Washington every year, and how would the Doobies like to attend sometime. And knock me down....but Pat said, "We'd like to try and come, when is it, let me check our schedule and please email me with the details."

While I was talking to Pat, Julie had made her way over to the groups super bass player, "Sky", a name aptly applied to the big guy. As I made my way into the conversation with him I found out that he also has a military connection, his Dad was a career Air Force NCO.

The night turning late and with the Doobies off for Ft. Worth early in the morning we decided to take our leave after another round of thank you's and autographs. Our trip home had us talking about what a great group of people these were, and I'm still agog about the experience. After being on the road for days and having just finished playing a knock down concert I wouldn't have blamed Pat, Mike, Sky or the other Doobies for being polite, saying "hi" to us and then, "sorry we gotta' go". But they stayed as long as we cared to talk. Hope I get to see them again in Washington soon. Here are some photos of the evening...Hangin' with the Doobies

Guantanamo......

Julie directed my attention to this NY Times article via The Drudge Report. I was interested in perusing it mainly because my good friend Gen. Tom Hill [photo] is quoted several times. Tom is the commander of SouthCom, the major command for Central and South America and under which the Guantanamo Prison falls.

The article is worth a read, though lengthy, and for the most part lays out the facts and both sides of the opinion about the prison facility. But...being the NY Times, one gets the feeling that the opinions of choice are those on the negative side. The report cites a litany of evidence from the lack of useful intelligence information that some say comes from the prison, to abuse, to the innocents being held.

However, as the authors lay out their negative comments, the facts keep shooting them in the feet. Such as the fact that at least 5 of the 57 Afghan detainees released have returned to the battlefield as Taliban commanders or fighters. One is now a notable commander known to be responsible for 13 deaths in Afghanistan including two aid workers. Or the fact that for all of the purported lack of intelligence, the so called 20th hijacker, Mr. Kahtani, was finally smoked out after lengthy interrogation. And one of the abuse cases cited is comical. A poor detainee was abused by being questioned for 20 hours in front of an air conditioner. Horrible. I'll bet any U.S. soldier serving in the heat of summer in the Iraqi desert would volunteer for such abuse.

As Tom Hill sums it up...."We weren't sure in the beginning what we had; we're not sure today what we have," said Gen. James T. Hill, the head of the Army's Southern Command. "There are still people who do not talk to us. We could have the keys to the kingdom and not know it."

So why is there any discussion? Perhaps the real debate should be, "do we shoot ten of these criminals for every American murdered in Iraq"?

Bubba goes to space....

Congragulations to Burt Rutan and the StarShipOne. These forward thinkers are not really Bubba's, but certainly they are first "regular" folks to fly to the official edge of space and for a total cost that probably is less than one of John Kerry's family homes.

The "mother ship" and the actual "space ship", StarShipOne, look like something out of a 1930's comic book or the drawings from a 12 year olds fantasy. In fact they looked a tad flimsy to be going to such heights and speeds particularly when compared to the massive proprortions we are used to in NASA vehicles. This made the attempt all the more exciting in my thinking. And, frankly, they made it look somewhat too easy, not withstanding that I realize that they've been working on this for years.

It was an historic event in aviation and truthfully one of my first thoughts was this. Here in the U.S. the government has been launching humans into space since the early 1960's and now we also have private citizens building spacecraft and leaving the planet. I wonder why the superior cultures of Europe have never put one, not one, person in space? While we are pushing the envelope of exploration, I wonder why the morally superior Imams and Potentates in the Middle East can't even provide most of their citizens with shoes or clean drinking water? Well no, I don't really wonder, I know. I hope they think about this too.

Clinton defends successor's push for war...

That headline on CNN online grabbed my attention. Here's CNN reporting on Bill Clinton doing the right thing and supporting the country and it's present leader in time of crisis. Speaking up because while in office he suspected full well, just as President Bush did at the time, that in all likelihood Saddam possesed WMD or had the means to produce them quickly. For once I praise Bill Clinton's honesty for speaking up. But one has only to read a few short sentences down in the article to let CNN's true colors shine through.

CNN) -- Former President Clinton has revealed that he continues to support President Bush's decision to go to war in Iraq but chastised the administration over the abuses at Abu Ghraib prison.

If you read the article you'll note that Clinton did not utter these phrases as one statement. They are taken from an extensive interview in Time Magazine next week. Clinton supports the war in Iraq. Clinton abhors the prison abuse. Clinton did not link the two events. CNN does that. No, CNN could not just print the story that the mentor of the liberal Democrats supports the war in Iraq without dredging up references to the prison abuse affair and making them one and the same. A liberal leader speaking up for the war effort...let's negate that by adding that somewhere else he mentions the nasty affair at Abu Ghraib prison.

But CNN, we are probably smarter than you think we are. We're really sorry that some misguided juvenile perverts acted out at the prison....but this is what we'll remember from your article.

Clinton, who was interviewed Thursday, said he did not believe that Bush went to war in Iraq over oil or for imperialist reasons but out of a genuine belief that large quantities of weapons of mass destruction remained unaccounted for.

Commander Cody...

A short note of congratulations are in order for my good friend and old army pal Dick Cody. That's General Dick Cody, now wearing four stars and named by SecDef Rumsfeld to be the new Vice Chief of Staff of the Army. For people without a military background that means that Dick is now second in the chain of command of the army. And a note. The "commander" refered to above was never Dick's rank, nor an ego trip of some kind for him. The knickname was given to him by us in reference to Commander Cody and His Lost Planet Airmen, a band of some repute at the time. But the name has stuck; I understand his troops over the years have called him thus, and Dick himself signs his mail that way.

Dick and I go back to 1972 when he and I were lieutenants together in the 25th Infantry Division. Dick and I ran in the same young officer crowd, both had Corvettes and became quite good friends over the years. The photo above is one I took when Dick and I went fishing in Hawaii about 1973. We caught a 200 lb. marlin that day...that photo lost to posterity. And, of course, I had purchased a bed from Dick in '72 that remained with me until last year as chronicled here

Dick had been in the Transportation Corps. when we were in the 25th Div. while I was in the Infantry. He commanded trucks, I commanded infantrymen. So I was surprised some years later when he phoned me in Dallas saying that he was passing through town ferrying Cobra gunships from point A to point B. Dick had yearned for a little more excitement than trucks had to offer and had become a helicopter pilot. And he became a noted one at that.

During the first Iraqi War, Desert Storm, it was Dick's Apache gunships that fired the first shots of the conflict, slipping in at sand dune top level to take out Iraqi radar sites prior to the unleashing of the air war the next day. Dick later went on to command the 101st Airborne Division and most recently has been Deputy Chief of Staff of the Army for operations, the G-3.

It is interesting that in the international aviation hall of fame organization, A Gathering of Eagles, two of the seven modern army aviators enshrined are good friends of mine. Dick Cody and Bruce Crandall.

Also interesting, and noteworthy, is the fact that my only two good friends still on active duty in the army are now both of four star rank. Gen. Tom Hill, commander of SouthCom, and now Dick. I think the only conclusion one might draw is that they both took to heart the leadership example I set for them all those years ago.

Who would you rather have quarterbacking America?

Gentleman, Start your engines...!

If you are a motor sports fan, this weekend is for you with all forms of auto racing happening and on the air!

We started off today by watching qualifing for the Formula One Grand Prix of Canada, where amazingly my man Ralf Schumacher has won the pole position for Sunday's race. Ralf is the driver I use on our amazingly great PlayStation2 Formula 1 game so I'm glad to see him finally overshadowing his brother Michael. We are glad to see Formula 1 finally get to the Americas. No more getting up at 6 A.M. to watch the race live.

Next we switched to the 24 Hours of LeMans and the sports car scene, my favorite. You have to be a true aficionado of the sport to follow this one. The coverage gets confusing unless you know the car classes and can follow drifting, lilting reports from track and the pits. As I write late Saturday night, two Audi teams were leading. It's always interesting to get up in the morning and see how things have changed in the preceeding hours. Sorry to say, our buddies at Panoz had "abandoned" with gear box failure.

The other races I'm not so excited about, but we'll try and catch some of those too. The Indy Racing League event should be fun, though Indy Car racing has done great injury to their fan base by the division of the series into two seperate leagues. Funny how big money will ruin things. But....since Julie wants to go to racing school at the Texas Motor Speedway next fall, this will give her a chance to size up the track!

Lastly there is NASCAR from Pocono. I know that NASCAR is by far the most popular form of auto racing with the general public, and I do watch, but I was taught proper English and it just galls me listening to the commentators. "Whee doggies, he don't know it but his engine just blowed up". Besides I can't identify with many of the young drivers are more media stars than good ol' boys. Still it's racing and I'm for it.

So Sunday will be a big day. The nice thing about the Formula 1 races are that young Jack and I drive the courses on the PlayStation so we're pro's at knowing the course. Though I'm a little more sophisticated in my cornering and braking points, Jack is coming along just fine.

The Final Farewell.....

It was a truly remarkable day, from morning in the East till Sunset in the West, as I'm sure most Americans who saw any part of the final ceremonies for President Reagan will agree. Julie, Jack and I caught significant portions of the final day of remembrance as we went about our day in and out of the house.

We, all three together, started watching the services from the National Cathedral and when I had to go to the office, I concluded by listening on Internet radio and then from my car as I went to meet them for lunch. I turned on the car radio just in time to hear the hymn "Mansions of the Lord" from the film We Were Soldiers being played at the cathedral. It was a personal connection to the services for me....having met the song writer [movie producer Randy Wallace] and knowing what the hymn means to many of my friends whom the film was about. Very special.

Julie and I have just turned off the TV tonight after watching the burial services from the Reagan Presidential library in California. A sunset ceremony just as the President himself had planned. And one with a more personal character which was a fitting way to end the week after all the state affairs had been concluded. It was just beautiful and a little strange with heads of state mixed with the likes of Bo Derek and Scott Baio. But I'm very glad that we got to hear the words spoken by the Presidents children; it put a nice personal finishing touch on the week and to be honest, my first true feelings of genuine sadness about his passing.

What I really want to comment on was the TV coverage. For all it's legions of faults, this is one thing that television is still good at far above all other media. And of which there is far too little. Involving the nation in a live event that both entranced and educated viewers without the need for debate or political correctness is something that is almost non-existant today..how sad.

And if you didn't watch the coverage of the ceremonies on Fox News, I offer that you were watching the wrong channel. It was so astounding that I made a comment to Julie about it this morning. I watched at least an hour of the ceremonies in Washington before I left for work and what I noticed was that there was no commentary, no talking heads blathering on with the assumption that the public was just to stupid to grasp the details. Fox was just letting us watch the events in real time without explanation.

I found no need to switch channels to the other big networks, but I can only imagine what they were offering. Peter Jennings feeling inadequate if there was more than 30 seconds of silence, Peter abhorbs silence. Peter telling us what kind of tires are on the hearse, Peter explaining who Lady Thatcher is and why she is important. I can just hear Tom Brokaw droning on about why Ronnie Reagan, from the Greatest Generation, was born to be a leader.

What Fox News did was just to lend us their cameras, allow us to be there and to think our own thoughts without distraction. For this I thank them. Is it any wonder why their ratings are high. Perhaps it's because they don't assume that we're morons incapable of viewing the boob tube without a constant flow of explanation.

A memorable day and week indeed and apparently others thought so too. After the services were concluded several of the commentators agreed that this could be compared to the Kennedy funeral so many years ago. I concur and have to, for once, thank television for it's coverage...or rather the Fox News Network.

Well doggonnit!!

"Thanks to the researchers who've proven that people who talk to their dogs are cutting-edge communicators, not just a bunch of eccentrics."

Yes thanks indeed, I'm glad to know I'm not just a kook, a complete kook that is. A new German study cited here says that most dogs understand language at a rate the scientists said was equivalent to that of a 3-year-old child...or an ape or dolphin. I'd prefer to communicate with an ape or dolphin more than with most 3 year olds, but that's another story.

I've always known that dogs have an innate ability to understand, and I've always talked to them. I guess that's why I love dogs so much and we've always gotten along. I've only been bitten by one dog in my life....my brother's French poodle. The reason for the bite is quite obvious; he didn't understand what I was saying.

My Golden Retreivers have been amazing in their grasp of the English language however. Ranger, my dear comrade of the late 80's and 90's had quite a range of vocabulary. When I would say "Duck" [as in a waterfowl] he would immediately look up and start searching the sky for a stray gaggle of mallards. He was a retreiver yes, but I had never ever taken him duck hunting nor been around lakes with ducks. Where he got that trait I don't know, genetics maybe. And we had to spell out C-A-T, for if we uttered "CAT" he was at the front door barking furiously for 20 minutes. The same with "SQUIRREL", only this would send him out the back door trying to climb the mulberry tree. If we were, by chance, to utter the word "BATH" in his presence he would slowly start to slink away and if we made a move in his direction he would shift from "slink" to "haul ass" in a nanosecond.

Ranger was also adept in automotive language. Like most Golden Retreivers he relished being in the family bed. My mean and evil Ex Wife did not relish nor allow a 95 lb. dog in the bed. So whenever she would leave in the morning, into bed he would hop. If I came home first drving my Blazer, he would still be in full repose. However if the mean evil EX came home in her Volvo he was out of the linen in a flash. He knew the sound of a Swedish engine better than most humans I know.

The present Big Gold Dog, Tres, is less communicative than Ranger but in a way, smarter about his understanding of language. Tres knows all the words, but he also has me figured out. His dog notes on me read something like:

Owner: soft touch, easy, pushover; don't have to do a thing he says. Important words to respond to: "Chow", "Ride", "Walk", "Treat". Ingore all else.

Actually Tres is more of a talker than a good listener. Thankfully for us, he's the only dog I've ever had that will tell you precisely when he needs to go out and do his duty so we never worry about him. He will go to the back door and utter one single muffled "woof". That's it..."woof", I need to go. If by chance we don't resond quickly enough, there is a second and very loud "Bark". We know then he really has to go. The same procedure applies when he wants to come back in.

Daphne, Julie and Jack's dog, is another matter entirely. Daphne is an Abyssinian Squirrelhound....aka "Mutt". Mutt's are genetically smarter than most other dogs since they most typically are the strays of the world and have had to fend for themselves over the eons. Daphne is as smart as they come, and like a precocious child is generally a wise ass when it comes to language. She understands everything we say, but does not comply with anything we wish, unless she wants to do it. She learned "sit", "lie down" and "roll over", I'm told, after only one or two training sessions. She knows not to dig, bark at squirrels and to stay out of the flower beds. Her reaction to a command to do, or not do, any of these is to run out of leash range and smirk. A very perturbing and frustrating trait in a dog. And when it comes time to scold her with the old favorite "Bad Dog!"....well she just looks the other way like we are talking to some imaginary other dog.

Ranger: good listener.
Tres: good talker.
Daphne: poor communication skills all around.

The Doobies...dreams do come true...

Several days ago I wrote here about my excitement that The Doobie Brothers were coming to town for a benefit concert. Since then things have happened that lift my level of excitement until it knows no bounds!

While catching up on the history of the band I reviewed The Doobies website. Deep within I found a contact email address which cheerfully stated that, "We try and respond to all mail". So I thought that I would drop an electronic note to them, telling them that I was a veteran and expressing my appreciation for all the good music over the years and for their aid and assistance to veterans organizations.

Last night I found out that they do indeed answer their email. I received the following email...

From: doobiemail@xxxxxx.net [mailto:doobiemail@xxxxxx.net]
Sent: Tuesday, June 08, 2004 10:04 PM
To: WCraig


Would you like two passes to the backstage Meet & Greet after this show? We can't give you tickets, but we can offer these (which you can't buy!).
Thanks,

Cris Simmons, for the Doobies

My response, of course, in so many words was, "Hell Yes, I worship the very ground you walk on...thank you, thank you!"

And so Cris wrote back.....

From: doobiemail@exxxxxx.net [mailto:doobiemail@xxxxxx.net]
Sent: Tuesday, June 08, 2004 10:19 PM
To: WCraig

Wallace

We will leave your 2 backstage passes, in your name, at the Box Office, or Will Call in some cases. Pick them up before the show. Then, right after the show ask security where you should go. See you there!

Cris

Cris is the wife of Pat Simmons, lead guitarist. Pat and Tom Johnson are the two original founders of the Doobies and have been the heart, soul and continuing musical talent that has kept the band alive and well. Needless to say, I await June 23rd in breathless anticipation!

Why did the Chicken cross the Iraqi road......?

Coalition Provisional Authority:
The fact that the Iraqi chicken crossed the road affirmatively demonstrates that decision-making authority has been transferred to the chicken well in advance of the scheduled June 30th transition of power. From now on the chicken is responsible for its own decisions.

Halliburton:
We were asked to help the chicken cross the road. Given the inherent risk of road crossing and the rarity of chickens, this operation will only cost the US government $326,004.

Muqtada al-Sadr:
The chicken was a tool of the evil Coalition and will be killed.

US Army Military Police:
We were directed to prepare the chicken to cross the road. As part of these preparations, individual soldiers ran over the chicken repeatedly and then plucked the chicken. We deeply regret the occurrence of any chicken rights violations.

Peshmerga:
The chicken crossed the road, and will continue to cross the road, to show its independence and to transport the weapons it needs to defend itself. However, in future, to avoid problems, the chicken will be called a duck, and will wear a plastic bill.

1st Cavalry Division:
The chicken was not authorized to cross the road without displaying two forms of picture identification. Thus, the chicken was appropriately detained and searched in accordance with current SOP's. We apologize for any embarrassment to the chicken. As a result of this unfortunate incident, the command has instituted a gender sensitivity training program and all future chicken searches will be conducted by female soldiers.

Al Jazeera:
The chicken was stripped and forced to cross the road multiple times at gunpoint by a large group of occupation soldiers, according to eye-witnesses. The chicken was then fired upon intentionally, in yet another example of the abuse of innocent Iraqi chickens.

Blackwater:
We cannot confirm any involvement in the chicken-road-crossing incident.

Translators:
Chicken he cross street because bad she tangle regulation. Future chicken table against my request.

U.S. Marine Corps:
The chicken is dead!

Doobie Doobie Doo....!

With so much strife, ill feelings and heartache abounding in the country today it's nice to know that there is a very bright spot looming on the horizon for Julie and Me...especially Me. A trip down memory lane.

The Doobie Brothers are coming to town. I'm ecstatic. They are my group from the dim past. Beach Boys, Beatles, Doobies. This dates me of course, but that's OK, facts is facts and chronologically these were the groups that saw me through the awkward teenage years and into young manhood. By the time The Doobies came along, The Beach Boys and Beatles had morphed into quasi- psychedelic existentialism [you can quote me on that] that may have been "art" but didn't hit the mood of the majority of us teens moving into our 20's. The Doobies filled the void for me. Great music, beautiful harmony combined with some hard hitting Rock and Roll licks.

My love affair with the Doobies began in 1971 when I was in the Army and headed so far West it became East. A new Lieutenant, I had to take my brand new Triumph TR-6 to Oakland to be shipped to Hawaii, my eventual destination after a stop across the Pacific, to await my arrival months later. The trip, taking a couple of weeks, was a grand loitering, roaming trip around the West ala Route 66 style. Just me, the new sports car and the road. I ended up in San Francisco for 3 days and with top down, drove aimlessly around the city and the bay area. The real treat was that I had an FM-Stereo radio! You had to have listened to AM radio, one speaker cars all your previous life to know what this meant. FM stereo was new then and it was heaven. Especially cruising the streets of San Francisco, home of the Doobies, and listening to one of their first big hits, "Listen to the Music". I was hooked.

As time passed the Doobies evolved, many times for the better, with additions like Michael McDonald. While many groups simply fade away the Doobies music stayed above par and did so until they decided to move on to other things as individuals. In 1987 the Doobies decided to re-form the band for a series of benefit concerts. Concerts not to support left-wing 60's ideologies, but instead to become sponsors of Veterans of The Vietnam War, a non-profit group which has evolved into the The National Veterans Foundation of which the Doobies are major benefactors. Great music, great memories, great guys. What can I say, I'm excited.

Short and sweet...

Many things to think about today...and so to me here's the gist of the matter.

D-Day: God Bless all those who sacrificed so much on this day 60 years ago. I've often wondered what must have been going through the minds of those gallant souls as they approached the beach or prepared to jump into the darkness of the French night, knowing full well the perils that would surely face them. Having made numerous night parachute drops myself, I know firsthand the normal jitters one gets....doing so under the worst of combat conditions, I can only imagine and marvel at the bravery and sense of duty of those men of my Dad's generation.

Ronald Reagan: Simply put he was the right man for his times. More than anything else, he turned the spirit of the country around after the abyssmal decade of gloom following the Vietnam War. His politics were direct, to the point and done, generally without being mean spirited. We need more like him today.

The Real Deal....

If you watch, listen to or read most of the mainsteam media you might think that things in Iraq are all death, destruction and abuse. You also would be missing most of the truth about day to day life in the major portion of the country. Here are some photos from Iraq taken by the "Stryker Brigade" on the ground that somehow Peter Jennings seems to miss. Take a look at these photos of U.S. soldiers raping and pillaging! Take a look at the hate filled Iraqis! Thanks to The Mudville Gazette for the tip on this site!

New Mexico Mountain Weekend....

It was a New Mexico mountain weekend filled with history, art, scenic panoramas and...go-karts.

A fun time and hopefully somewhat intellectually stimulating to young Jack who, if he had had things his way, would have spent the entire three day junket racing go-karts at the track in Ruidoso. We did do a fair amount of that, and Jack, the Mother and I had a great time. Jack, being under 16 years of age couldn't drive the super fast karts so Julie and I put in some lap times with him on the "fun track". It was fun...but Julie and I had to give the fast karts a go. And go we did. Julie did well and because I'm a tad heavier in weight I couldn't catch her, but I did catch a glimpse of her ahead, blonde hair pegged straight back by the blinding speed .

Julie and I are history buffs, so Sunday was mostly devoted to a tour of historical sites which abound in the area. Through the mountains we drove down to Capitan and by the Smokey the Bear museum, the original and factual bear cub, Smokey, having been rescued here in 1950. In a sad twist of irony, the picture of Jack and Smokey above was taken with a major forest fire as a backdrop in the same mountains where Smokey was rescued. The fires burned along the entire crest of the Capitan mountains fanned by 30+ mph winds. A fire so large that we could see the smoke overhead when we got home. A distance of over 270 miles.

Our history destination was Lincoln, New Mexico home of Billy the Kid and the famous Lincoln County War of 1878-1881. Lincoln is a great place for history and photography, having changed little since 1888. Many of the historic buildings are now museums with the old courthouse and jail where Billy the Kid was held being of special interest, especially to a ten year old boy. He got to have his picture made with a bullet hole left during Billy's escape...and stand on the exact spot where a deputy sheriff was slain during that episode. The homes in Lincoln range from the original old abode to the territorial style built in the 1870's, but perhaps one of the most interesting structures to us is a large circular adobe tower built in the 1850's as a place of refuge against attacks by the Apaches.

On our return trip we stopped at Ft. Stanton a military post built in 1855 to counter the Apache threat and serving on into the 20th century in a variety of capacities including a German POW camp and tuberculosis treatment center for the merchant marine. It was somber reminder for Memorial Day to see so many flags of various nations in the post graveyard. And then, of course, as a reward for Jack for cramming his head full of so much historical information we......once again raced go-karts before returning to our cottage for a great meal in the cool mountain air.

On the return trip to Midland we could not let opportunities pass for yet more history and art [much to Jack's chagrin......I told him he would thank me in later years]. On the way down from the mountains we stopped in at the Museum of the American West which has a good collection of antique wagons, guns and is now featuring the skelton of Sue, the T-Rex recently found in South Dakota. And a little further down the road in San Patricio we stopped at one of my art Mecca's.....the Sentinel Ranch of artist Peter Hurd. We had a nice chat with the curator of the Hurd Gallery,looked around the gallery and had a chance to nod a brief hell-o to noted artist Michael Hurd, son of Peter Hurd and grandson of N.C Wyeth. We also toured the ranch looking at the suberbly elegant guest homes in anticipation of a return visit this summer.

Then it was a push on to home once again through the flat lands and heat of West Texas. Really a nice short vacation combining all our interests; art, history and racing but most importantly just simple things like enjoying a quiet moment together on the streets of Lincoln.