Don't buy gas on May 19
MAY 19TH HAS BEEN FORMALLY DECLARED "STICK IT UP THEIR BEHIND" DAY AND THE PEOPLE OF THIS NATION SHOULD NOT BUY A SINGLE DROP OF GASOLINE THAT DAY.THE ONLY WAY THIS CAN BE DONE IS IF YOU FORWARD THIS E-MAIL TO AS MANY PEOPLE AS YOU CAN AND AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN TO GET THE WORD OUT.
That was the subject of a recent mass forward email I received from a friend, similar in nature to several others that have passed through my inbox since the price of gasoline has gone up so much. Pardon my saying so but these emails are the most immature, assinine drivel that I've ever read. Generated by wishful thinking SUV drivers I suppose. Somehow my friends forward this palaver without a thought that people they know are in the oil business....like me.
The email in question seeks to have everyone not buy gasoline for a day, thus punishing "Big Oil"...I suppose the same nameless, faceless "Big Oil" that started the war in Iraq.
IT HAS BEEN CALCULATED THAT IF EVERYONE IN THE UNITED STATES DID NOT PURCHASE A DROP OF GASOLINE FOR ONE DAY AND ALL AT THE SAME TIME, THE OIL COMPANIES WOULD CHOKE ON THEIR STOCKPILES
I don't know who calculated this....but he or she is an idiot. Actually I'm betting "Big Oil" would welcome a couple of days for suppply to catch up with demand. But since even, it seems, the most moderate and normally sensible people hold "Big Oil" responsible for having to pay more to drive on important trips to secure their Starbucks Latte, let me explain a few things.
1] Important, remember this: Crude oil is at an all time high. "Big Oil" relies on crude oil stocks to make gasoline and the crude oil market is a truly global one, primarily controlled, still, by OPEC...and OPEC is, still, primarily controlled by the Saudi's.
2] You won't believe this but trust me. If it hadn't been for "Big Oil" over the years you'd be paying buckets full of money more for gasoline today. "Big Oil" has spent trillions of dollars since the '30s opening up new fields of supply in such places as Saudi Arabia, the North Sea, Iraq and Malaysia. If they hadn't and you had to rely on home grown Amerkan oil provided by small operators like me, well it wouldn't be a pretty picture for your wallet. We don't have enough oil or cheap oil in this country to support your driving habits. "Big Oil" provided the world with a sea of cheap oil.
3] For the last 15 years, the average price for West Texas Crude was $18.30. In December of 1998 it was $8.65 a barrel, so cheap it didn't even pay for us small guys to pump it out of the ground, so cheap it put 10's of thousands in our area out of work. At $8.65/bbl. no sane person in Amerka drilled any new wells. Except "Big Oil" who provided all the cheap oil and gasoline you wanted. And, by the way, where were the emailers decrying that oil was to cheap and putting Amerkans out of work? I guess I wasn't on that list.
Why is gasoline so expensive all of a sudden? Well...see #1 above, crude oil is more expensive. And why is crude oil so much more expensive now? Who's to blame. There are a number of reasons.
1] Impoving economies around the world. And not only in the U.S. and Europe, but in economies of banana republic and third world countries that in the past have not needed so much energy. Globalization for better or worse is working. You, indirectly, are paying for your cheaper Wal-Mart goods with higher fuel prices here at home. China is sucking in petroleum supplies at an amazingly higher rate to fuel the factories that make your cheap Wal-Mart 10 Pack of underwear and India needs more power to fire up all the computers that are doing your H&R Block tax returns. You get cheap undies but have to pay more to drive your Lincoln Navigator to go get them.
2] Gasoline plant shortages. Chronically there is a shortage of gasoline refinement capacity. Though overshadowed by high crude prices now, the dearth of gasoline plants exacerbates the problem causing wider swings in gas prices when crude oil prices move. Gas plants are expensive, high liability items and no one wants one in their vicinity.
3] The Saudis. I could have said OPEC, but the Saudi's lead that pack, and the Saudi's are worried, and we should worry about the Saudi's. This price rise could be the Saudi's reply to G.W. Bush for his actions in Iraq...a way to vote against him this Fall. They know he means business about change in the Arab world and that means them...the Sheiks, Emirs and Kumquats who collect all the oil royalty checks. They'd rather things didn't change. And somewhere in the price mix is something you'd rather not hear. The Saudi's know that their production is declining. Without the weight of oil weatlth, they are back to being mere sand beggars. From some inside sources in Saudi Arabia, I have learned that more and more of their oil fields are being "water flooded". This means injecting water into the oil formations to float the oil out. This is what you do when production starts to decline. So....rather than sell off all their oil and it's power at lower prices they may have decided to take the market price to a new level. I'd do the same. To get the same total check every month sell less at a higher price. It keeps them in the game longer.
4] You...and Me. As much as we don't want to blame ourselves, I have to. We Amerkans are still fuel grubbing wasteful people on the whole. I was in gas station lines in 1973 and saw the huge oil boom of 1979 go bust in 1983. Nothing much has changed since. In my home two TV's and two computers and a PlayStation often run at the same time with no one watching, we think nothing of driving 2 miles to the store for a few items. Detroit is building muscle cars again. We waste to much energy, because it's been cheap for to long.
In conclusion I have good news and bad news. First the good news. There is plenty of oil left in the world. As we say in geologic terms....one buttload of it. The bad news is that most all of the easy oil, read that cheaply produced oil, has been discovered and is being produced. The oil in the future will cost more to find and exploit for use. So, although, prices flucuate, be ready to continue paying more. So turn off one of your TV's, turn your thermostat up to 78° get a GEO Prism and stop sending me emails about evil "Big Oil". In 10 years you may really be glad there around to spend the bucks it takes to drill a well 20,000 ft. deep, 30 miles out at sea.
Saturday, May 15, 2004
The Art Crowd...
One of the things that Julie and I shared in common from the beginning was our love of art. In fact our second date, the day after our first date, was to the Celebration of the Arts festival in Midland. And by gosh, we were there again today.
This time as a married couple with child. Jack went a little begrudgingly, but we think he had a good time playing on the super sized blow-up amusements that seem to keep getting bigger and bigger. You know the ones. Put a kid in a velcro© suit and throw him up against a velcro© wall sticking him to said wall 7 feet up. Fun. But not having developed our apprecitation of the finer things in life, we were glad he had fun.
Our fun was browsing the art and seeing friends and artists again. We have made a habit of buying at least one painting from our good friend Helen Pogue each year and today we bought two. Helen is a true artiste, painting varied subjects and with several different styles but we love her stock in trade....landscapes and buildings of New Mexico. We have five now. They compliment our house very elegantly.
My big treat was visiting at length with Woody Gwyn [above] who over the last decade has gotten to be a friend. For Midland High grads, he is the artist who painted the mural over the stairs near the main entry hall. The mural was painted when he was youngster in high school and since he has gone on to great things. Today Woody relayed to me how he got started on the road to better things in the art world. It seems he conned noted artist Peter Hurd into granting him an interview at his home in New Mexico...thinking that Woody was an established artist. Mr. Hurd was astonished to see an 18 year old boy step out of the car, but being a gracious man talked with him anyway and advised him to skip college and instead attend the Pennsylvania Academy of Art. Which Woody did and after long years of work he is now nationally known, his works hanging in finer homes and museums including the Presidents home in Crawford where he did a commissioned work of the ranch for George and Laura Bush. I always enjoy talking with Woody, a very esoteric and funny guy, and we hope to be able to accept his invitation to visit him and his wife at their home in Galisteo, New Mexico this summer.
And no, we didn't buy an original Woody Gwyn. The one in the photo above is priced at $32,000. I didn't feel to humiliated though, as Woody told me, "Hey I can't afford my art either".
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Tent People....
I went to another funeral today. This time for Joe Martin, an old friend from high school. JoJo, as he was called by most who know him back in those days, was the little brother of a friend in my class. Although as I was ahead a grade for my age, Joe was only 2 months younger than me. 54 is entirely to young an age to leave the mortal world without a fight.
And Joe had had a fight on his hands the last several years after suffering a stroke during an operation. An over achiever, Joe did not let his frailty conquer his spirit. Though he really didn't look the part he had been a star running back at Midland High School and at Washington and Lee University in Virginia. He had been senior class president in high school and voted "most friendly". And he was. He obtained an M.B.A. from SMU and became a CPA. In his last days he had obtained another passion, for art, and in spite of his limitations was attending painting classes at our local junior college. And he was good...and prolific. His sister told us that his garage was lined with his work, all done in only the past several years.
The memorial service for Joe was as I prefer. Not too long but meaningful with stories and laughter offered by friends and family. The service was conducted, coincidentally, by Julie's friend Jan Reid who had married us only months before. And instead of the usual well meaning homily that I barely hear Jan's words were wisdom to my ears. Jan's remarks were that we are merely tent people here on this earth, transient visitors just passing through in temporary quarters until we are called to our permanent home. Perhaps this struck me so because I have actually lived in tents on occasions in my life and I can identify with the luxurious feeling of relocating to more stable quarters....or perhaps as I get older and more of my friends, family and acquaintances leave this earth it seemed to me to be a comforting thought.
Comforting also was the renewal in seeing old friends at the reception held afterwards at the home of Joe's sister Suzanne. Old friends of my family and friends from my high school days that I had not seen in decades. Laughter was endemic and it seemed even in his passing Joe had bequethed us all with the title "most friendly". Thanks JoJo for touching us all.
I went to another funeral today. This time for Joe Martin, an old friend from high school. JoJo, as he was called by most who know him back in those days, was the little brother of a friend in my class. Although as I was ahead a grade for my age, Joe was only 2 months younger than me. 54 is entirely to young an age to leave the mortal world without a fight.
And Joe had had a fight on his hands the last several years after suffering a stroke during an operation. An over achiever, Joe did not let his frailty conquer his spirit. Though he really didn't look the part he had been a star running back at Midland High School and at Washington and Lee University in Virginia. He had been senior class president in high school and voted "most friendly". And he was. He obtained an M.B.A. from SMU and became a CPA. In his last days he had obtained another passion, for art, and in spite of his limitations was attending painting classes at our local junior college. And he was good...and prolific. His sister told us that his garage was lined with his work, all done in only the past several years.
The memorial service for Joe was as I prefer. Not too long but meaningful with stories and laughter offered by friends and family. The service was conducted, coincidentally, by Julie's friend Jan Reid who had married us only months before. And instead of the usual well meaning homily that I barely hear Jan's words were wisdom to my ears. Jan's remarks were that we are merely tent people here on this earth, transient visitors just passing through in temporary quarters until we are called to our permanent home. Perhaps this struck me so because I have actually lived in tents on occasions in my life and I can identify with the luxurious feeling of relocating to more stable quarters....or perhaps as I get older and more of my friends, family and acquaintances leave this earth it seemed to me to be a comforting thought.
Comforting also was the renewal in seeing old friends at the reception held afterwards at the home of Joe's sister Suzanne. Old friends of my family and friends from my high school days that I had not seen in decades. Laughter was endemic and it seemed even in his passing Joe had bequethed us all with the title "most friendly". Thanks JoJo for touching us all.
Sunday, May 09, 2004
Mothers.....
It was a grand day, spent with a plethora of Mothers.
As promised young son Jack awakened me at 6:15 to watch the Spanish Grand Prix live and, of course, to prepare the Mother in our lives breakfast in bed. A simple repast, by her request, but accentuated by a grand red rose from our garden. Then every Mothers dream on her special day...we all watched the Grand Prix in bed.
The main event of the day was a lunch put together by Julie with Mothers galore. My Mom, Julies Mom, Mom Julie and her kids, Julies Dad's cousin family and mutual family friends of both my parents and Julies. I have to say, that Julie is a fine and doting Mother...and daughter/daughter-in-law. Bundles of roses awaited all the Moms and her choice of the outside patio at one of the better resaurants in town was superb. The weather and the setting were perfect. Like dining out in San Francisco. Ok, minus the water and view, but fine none the less.
The only drawback to the day was the Big Gold Dog vomiting at my feet as I sat at the computer checking my messages this morning, but not even this could dampen a glorious day. I'm blessed with having some first class Mothers in my life!
It was a grand day, spent with a plethora of Mothers.
As promised young son Jack awakened me at 6:15 to watch the Spanish Grand Prix live and, of course, to prepare the Mother in our lives breakfast in bed. A simple repast, by her request, but accentuated by a grand red rose from our garden. Then every Mothers dream on her special day...we all watched the Grand Prix in bed.
The main event of the day was a lunch put together by Julie with Mothers galore. My Mom, Julies Mom, Mom Julie and her kids, Julies Dad's cousin family and mutual family friends of both my parents and Julies. I have to say, that Julie is a fine and doting Mother...and daughter/daughter-in-law. Bundles of roses awaited all the Moms and her choice of the outside patio at one of the better resaurants in town was superb. The weather and the setting were perfect. Like dining out in San Francisco. Ok, minus the water and view, but fine none the less.
The only drawback to the day was the Big Gold Dog vomiting at my feet as I sat at the computer checking my messages this morning, but not even this could dampen a glorious day. I'm blessed with having some first class Mothers in my life!
Saturday, May 08, 2004
What hath I wrought.......?
It's great to have family interests. As a regular reader of Streams could discern in the last several months postings, one of my interests is sports car racing. Not normally an interest that would consume all members of most American families. I have tried to nurture this by interesting Jack in Grand Prix Racing on PlayStation2, by introducing Julie to the beauty, power and grace of Shelby Cobra's and in our family attendance of the Chaparral Racing exhibit at the Petroleum Museum. But perhaps I've gone to far!
Julie not only has not nixed my future plans for a Cobra.....she heartily endorses it and wants one soon.....so she can take it to the Panoz Racing School at the Texas Motor Speedway. Jack is now competing with me for time on the PlayStation and he's getting to be quite the little driver. And, of course, we all have matching Chaparral Racing T-shirts.
So I suppose it should not have come as a complete surprise this Saturday morning at 7:30 to be awakened by a 10 year old voice saying, "Hey Dub [he calls me Dub, short for "W", which is short for Wallace], wake up, the qualifying rounds for the Spanish Grand Prix are on TV live and Ralf Schumacher is about to drive." He knows that Ralf is the driver I use on the PlayStation version and that Ralf and I hold the Circuit de Catalunya PlayStation lap record. So arise I did to watch Ralf with an admirable qualifying drive which put him at pole postition #6.
And so this Saturday evening I must go to bed fairly early as Jack has promised me that he'll be getting me up at 6:30 tomorrow morning to watch the race live. And, of course, this will give us a chance to fix Mom breakfast in bed.......while she watches the race.
But if you're not ready for bed yet, catch the official Formula 1 website. It's a great site with all the info, pictures and data you need....plus track graphics. Try "mousing" over each turn for a picture, looks just like PlayStation2!
It's great to have family interests. As a regular reader of Streams could discern in the last several months postings, one of my interests is sports car racing. Not normally an interest that would consume all members of most American families. I have tried to nurture this by interesting Jack in Grand Prix Racing on PlayStation2, by introducing Julie to the beauty, power and grace of Shelby Cobra's and in our family attendance of the Chaparral Racing exhibit at the Petroleum Museum. But perhaps I've gone to far!
Julie not only has not nixed my future plans for a Cobra.....she heartily endorses it and wants one soon.....so she can take it to the Panoz Racing School at the Texas Motor Speedway. Jack is now competing with me for time on the PlayStation and he's getting to be quite the little driver. And, of course, we all have matching Chaparral Racing T-shirts.
So I suppose it should not have come as a complete surprise this Saturday morning at 7:30 to be awakened by a 10 year old voice saying, "Hey Dub [he calls me Dub, short for "W", which is short for Wallace], wake up, the qualifying rounds for the Spanish Grand Prix are on TV live and Ralf Schumacher is about to drive." He knows that Ralf is the driver I use on the PlayStation version and that Ralf and I hold the Circuit de Catalunya PlayStation lap record. So arise I did to watch Ralf with an admirable qualifying drive which put him at pole postition #6.
And so this Saturday evening I must go to bed fairly early as Jack has promised me that he'll be getting me up at 6:30 tomorrow morning to watch the race live. And, of course, this will give us a chance to fix Mom breakfast in bed.......while she watches the race.
But if you're not ready for bed yet, catch the official Formula 1 website. It's a great site with all the info, pictures and data you need....plus track graphics. Try "mousing" over each turn for a picture, looks just like PlayStation2!
Look....it's Ron Ely!
Sometimes we can see things a multitude of times but not see the entire thing at all. The other night I was watching the last hour or so of the movie South Pacific on The Turner Classic Movie channel. One of my all time favorites. Great music, great photography, interesting cast and nostalgic as it reminds me of my time in the South Pacific. So as I watched the full credits unfold, imagine my surprise at seeing the part of the navigator on the PBY "The Bouncing Belch" played by none other than Ronald Ely. Who later became Ron Ely of teevee Tarzan fame.
Interesting because about the time he became Tarzan famous....he had been living in Midland. I carried his groceries out for him several times when I was working a summer job as a stocker at the old Furr's Supermarket here. Seeing as how we were old chums, I wonder why I've never recoginized him in South Pacific before......I've seen it 20 times.
Sometimes we can see things a multitude of times but not see the entire thing at all. The other night I was watching the last hour or so of the movie South Pacific on The Turner Classic Movie channel. One of my all time favorites. Great music, great photography, interesting cast and nostalgic as it reminds me of my time in the South Pacific. So as I watched the full credits unfold, imagine my surprise at seeing the part of the navigator on the PBY "The Bouncing Belch" played by none other than Ronald Ely. Who later became Ron Ely of teevee Tarzan fame.
Interesting because about the time he became Tarzan famous....he had been living in Midland. I carried his groceries out for him several times when I was working a summer job as a stocker at the old Furr's Supermarket here. Seeing as how we were old chums, I wonder why I've never recoginized him in South Pacific before......I've seen it 20 times.
Thursday, May 06, 2004
Photo......shop
I've had several nice suprises arising from my Chaparral Racing photos. Last week I was contacted by Paige Summer of the Petroleum Museum saying that she had seen the website and asking if they could use some of the images in their newsletter and possibly the website and some printed material. I was glad to offer them to the Museum and so today I stopped by to allow her to download the digital images into her computer. We had a nice chat during which she added that current Indy 500 winner Gil De Ferran had also seen the website and was interested in prints of my shots of he and his son sitting in the Chaparral. Glad to oblige...so I'll be sending some to he and his wife in Florida.
This proves out some sage advise I was given years ago by a friend Steve Northup, a former combat photographer and now an instructor at the Santa Fe Workshops. In conversation I had asked Steve what was his one secret to taking good photographs. Without blinking Steve said, "take all the shots you can, don't ever let anyone see the really bad ones, you will no doubt take some good ones, and a few great ones and someone will eventually want some of them". Good advice, not that I consider these great shots......but at least someone wants them!
I've had several nice suprises arising from my Chaparral Racing photos. Last week I was contacted by Paige Summer of the Petroleum Museum saying that she had seen the website and asking if they could use some of the images in their newsletter and possibly the website and some printed material. I was glad to offer them to the Museum and so today I stopped by to allow her to download the digital images into her computer. We had a nice chat during which she added that current Indy 500 winner Gil De Ferran had also seen the website and was interested in prints of my shots of he and his son sitting in the Chaparral. Glad to oblige...so I'll be sending some to he and his wife in Florida.
This proves out some sage advise I was given years ago by a friend Steve Northup, a former combat photographer and now an instructor at the Santa Fe Workshops. In conversation I had asked Steve what was his one secret to taking good photographs. Without blinking Steve said, "take all the shots you can, don't ever let anyone see the really bad ones, you will no doubt take some good ones, and a few great ones and someone will eventually want some of them". Good advice, not that I consider these great shots......but at least someone wants them!
Tuesday, May 04, 2004
Heroes and Wusses.....
The following comment is from college student Hans Zeiger and was sent to me by another patriotic American, Bob Barker, who commanded an artillery battery at LZ Falcon in 1965 that fired over 18,000 105 mm howitzer rounds in just three days supporting my comrades surrounded by North Vietnamese troops at LZ XRay, Vietnam.
Heroes and Wusses
By Hans Zeiger
May 3, 2004
There are two kinds of Americans in this generation. Former NFL player and Army Ranger Pat Tillman was one kind; he fully earned the title of American with his life and earned the distinction of hero with his death. Tillman spilt his blood last Friday after a gun battle with terrorist fighters along a distant road in Afghanistan.
We need only read the vitriol of Pat Tillman's enemies at home to understand that this generation is deeply, intensively divided. In college newspapers and youthful Left-wing internet sites, Pat Tillman is no hero, but a "dumb jock," "Rambo," "baby killer," and an "idiot" who "got what he deserved."
If Pat Tillman was one kind of American in this generation, the notorious Rene Gonzalez, a graduate student at University of Massachusetts at Amherst is another kind. Gonzalez had the audacity to write a column in the April 28 issue of the University of Massachusetts Daily Collegian accusing Tillman of "acting out his macho, patriotic crap, and I guess someone with a bigger gun did him in." His sacrifice, wrote Mr. Gonzalez, "was not heroism, it was prophetic idiocy."
This so-called "idiot" died so that Mr. Gonzalez and his fellow left-wing radicals could call him names in the free press. Tillman rejected a $3.6 million NFL contract to take up service in the U.S. Army following September 11. When Tillman left his promising career in pro-football to defend America in the war on terror, the Department of Defense wanted to market him as their poster-boy, but he refused the glory by turning down thousands of invitations for interviews and photo ops. He sacrificed his life and his fortune, but he did not give up his sacred honor.
Honor is a rare thing in this generation. But Pat Tillman had it. He had it when he went quietly into the Armed Services, for he knew that there is no place for self-adulation among the fellowship of patriots. He had it on the field of battle, for he was convinced that the cause of liberty is just. He had it in his final breaths, for Pat Tillman understood that the fight is eternal. And his dead patriot body may be homebound, but still, in the courts of America's God, his soul has honor.
Yet there is a despicable brand of person that thinks nothing of a hero. Mr. Gonzalez stands for the wusses of American, as do the folks at Indymedia.org, a nationwide media network for the dissemination of radically left-wing alternative news. "Indymedia.org has 50 local chapters in the United States," writes Ben Shapiro in his column this week. "Forty-four of them made no mention of Pat Tillman's death. The other six celebrated it."
"Pat Tillman is gone good riddance," read the banner above an article at the Urbana-Champaign, Illinois Indymedia site. The Washington, D.C. Indymedia site proposed this headline to sum up Pat Tillman's death: "Dumb Jock Dies for Pipeline in Afghanistan." Portland, Oregon Indymedia pitched in with, "Privileged Millionaire, Blinded by Nationalist Mythology, Pisses Away the Good Life," "Cottled Sports Star Allows Nationalism to Foster Jingoistic Irresponsibility Resulting in His Death," and "Capitalist Chooses to Kill Innocents Instead of Cashing Check."
In the ongoing experiment called America, the war on terrorism is this generation's war. But there is another battle between ideas about honor and courage and virtue and faith that must be fought in the minds and souls of young Americans. This great spiritual battle was more pronounced in the days of Vietnam, but neither side has yet won. Whether character and honor shall win out in the minds of young Americans will forever determine whether we as a nation can continue to champion liberty and justice in the world.
Ultimately, it is a question of our responsibility. Someone once told me that if someone violates your freedom, you will fight to defend it. But if someone takes away your responsibility, you will be indifferent to the coming seizure of freedom.
I worry more about the loss of responsibility in my generation than I do about the loss of freedom itself. Rene Gonzalez and Indymedia stand for an America without duty, honor, and heroism. But as long as there are Pat Tillmans in America, we can survive.
-------------
Hans Zeiger is a student at Hillsdale College and president of the Scout Honor Coalition. www.hanszeiger.com
The following comment is from college student Hans Zeiger and was sent to me by another patriotic American, Bob Barker, who commanded an artillery battery at LZ Falcon in 1965 that fired over 18,000 105 mm howitzer rounds in just three days supporting my comrades surrounded by North Vietnamese troops at LZ XRay, Vietnam.
Heroes and Wusses
By Hans Zeiger
May 3, 2004
There are two kinds of Americans in this generation. Former NFL player and Army Ranger Pat Tillman was one kind; he fully earned the title of American with his life and earned the distinction of hero with his death. Tillman spilt his blood last Friday after a gun battle with terrorist fighters along a distant road in Afghanistan.
We need only read the vitriol of Pat Tillman's enemies at home to understand that this generation is deeply, intensively divided. In college newspapers and youthful Left-wing internet sites, Pat Tillman is no hero, but a "dumb jock," "Rambo," "baby killer," and an "idiot" who "got what he deserved."
If Pat Tillman was one kind of American in this generation, the notorious Rene Gonzalez, a graduate student at University of Massachusetts at Amherst is another kind. Gonzalez had the audacity to write a column in the April 28 issue of the University of Massachusetts Daily Collegian accusing Tillman of "acting out his macho, patriotic crap, and I guess someone with a bigger gun did him in." His sacrifice, wrote Mr. Gonzalez, "was not heroism, it was prophetic idiocy."
This so-called "idiot" died so that Mr. Gonzalez and his fellow left-wing radicals could call him names in the free press. Tillman rejected a $3.6 million NFL contract to take up service in the U.S. Army following September 11. When Tillman left his promising career in pro-football to defend America in the war on terror, the Department of Defense wanted to market him as their poster-boy, but he refused the glory by turning down thousands of invitations for interviews and photo ops. He sacrificed his life and his fortune, but he did not give up his sacred honor.
Honor is a rare thing in this generation. But Pat Tillman had it. He had it when he went quietly into the Armed Services, for he knew that there is no place for self-adulation among the fellowship of patriots. He had it on the field of battle, for he was convinced that the cause of liberty is just. He had it in his final breaths, for Pat Tillman understood that the fight is eternal. And his dead patriot body may be homebound, but still, in the courts of America's God, his soul has honor.
Yet there is a despicable brand of person that thinks nothing of a hero. Mr. Gonzalez stands for the wusses of American, as do the folks at Indymedia.org, a nationwide media network for the dissemination of radically left-wing alternative news. "Indymedia.org has 50 local chapters in the United States," writes Ben Shapiro in his column this week. "Forty-four of them made no mention of Pat Tillman's death. The other six celebrated it."
"Pat Tillman is gone good riddance," read the banner above an article at the Urbana-Champaign, Illinois Indymedia site. The Washington, D.C. Indymedia site proposed this headline to sum up Pat Tillman's death: "Dumb Jock Dies for Pipeline in Afghanistan." Portland, Oregon Indymedia pitched in with, "Privileged Millionaire, Blinded by Nationalist Mythology, Pisses Away the Good Life," "Cottled Sports Star Allows Nationalism to Foster Jingoistic Irresponsibility Resulting in His Death," and "Capitalist Chooses to Kill Innocents Instead of Cashing Check."
In the ongoing experiment called America, the war on terrorism is this generation's war. But there is another battle between ideas about honor and courage and virtue and faith that must be fought in the minds and souls of young Americans. This great spiritual battle was more pronounced in the days of Vietnam, but neither side has yet won. Whether character and honor shall win out in the minds of young Americans will forever determine whether we as a nation can continue to champion liberty and justice in the world.
Ultimately, it is a question of our responsibility. Someone once told me that if someone violates your freedom, you will fight to defend it. But if someone takes away your responsibility, you will be indifferent to the coming seizure of freedom.
I worry more about the loss of responsibility in my generation than I do about the loss of freedom itself. Rene Gonzalez and Indymedia stand for an America without duty, honor, and heroism. But as long as there are Pat Tillmans in America, we can survive.
-------------
Hans Zeiger is a student at Hillsdale College and president of the Scout Honor Coalition. www.hanszeiger.com
Monday, May 03, 2004
Back Home....
It's been a busy week, mainly spent moving my office and buying new accouterments to go therein.
For the last 6 years I've been in association with EGL Resources, a conglomerate of petroleum geolgists, engineers, and landmen [hence the EGL] and it's been a great association. I couldn't have asked for a better group to bunk with.....and teach me a few things about the oil and gas business. We drilled some wells, bought some wells, bought minerals and had our share of successes and failures, but most importantly it's been singificant in the close relationships we all formed. I'm grateful for their help and support.
But it's time to move on with a new venture I've been working on for almost two years. And time to move back to the oldest office building in town, the Petroleum Building. Built in 1928, it's among the prime reasons that Midland developed into a major player in the oil business, for when it was completed it was the only office space in West Texas near the huge newly discovered oil fields of the Permian Basin. The major oil companies located their staffs in the building to manage their new discoveries. And so with the headquarters personal here, Midland grew when so many other oil field boom towns had their day and then faded. It's a historic building and, I think, a beautiful one compared to the modern glass boxes. Built in a sandstone desert style art deco, it has retained it's charm complete with the painted mural in the lobby.
This marks my third tour in the building. The first came in 1979 when I lived in Dallas but was hired as a real estate consultant by the then owners who were going to construct a 45 story modern office building next to the Petroleum Building. I was flown out on their plane every week to work on the new structure and had an office on the ground floor. But the big oil boom of the late 70's and early 80's was soon followed by the big oil bust of the mid 80's so the new building was never built. My second expeience in the building came almost 20 years later when I started with EGL Resources which had just formed, The building was owned by one of our partners.
And so now I'm back for the third stay this time on the SW corner of the third floor floor. A great space overlooking the park at Centennial Plaza and with tree tops right outside my windows. We were fortunate to get this office as it adjoins my partner Del Sloan and and is adjacent to the two engineers who will also be involved in our new venture, Embar Power LLC. Julie has been helping with the decorating and we never knew it would be so hard to find the appropriate furniture. But we're particular. We finally found a rather old Mission Style desk at an antique store that suits my taste to the "T". The file cabinets were another matter. I had thought that with some diligent searching we could locate the old style wooden ones to go with the rest of the motif. But alas none were to be found, so I had to settle for stock wooden models from Office Depot.
But it's starting to look rather good and I'm excited to be embarking on this new phase of my career. Particularly excited since today I got word from the representative of the two large corporations that are involved in our new venture that they are preparing a letter of intent to signify their handshake agreement on our deal. Hard to believe that after two years of research, stops and starts and toil that our dreams could actually be coming true. We're not ready to announce the project yet, but it involves gas, electricity and a new use for an under utilized fuel. Stay tuned.
It's been a busy week, mainly spent moving my office and buying new accouterments to go therein.
For the last 6 years I've been in association with EGL Resources, a conglomerate of petroleum geolgists, engineers, and landmen [hence the EGL] and it's been a great association. I couldn't have asked for a better group to bunk with.....and teach me a few things about the oil and gas business. We drilled some wells, bought some wells, bought minerals and had our share of successes and failures, but most importantly it's been singificant in the close relationships we all formed. I'm grateful for their help and support.
But it's time to move on with a new venture I've been working on for almost two years. And time to move back to the oldest office building in town, the Petroleum Building. Built in 1928, it's among the prime reasons that Midland developed into a major player in the oil business, for when it was completed it was the only office space in West Texas near the huge newly discovered oil fields of the Permian Basin. The major oil companies located their staffs in the building to manage their new discoveries. And so with the headquarters personal here, Midland grew when so many other oil field boom towns had their day and then faded. It's a historic building and, I think, a beautiful one compared to the modern glass boxes. Built in a sandstone desert style art deco, it has retained it's charm complete with the painted mural in the lobby.
This marks my third tour in the building. The first came in 1979 when I lived in Dallas but was hired as a real estate consultant by the then owners who were going to construct a 45 story modern office building next to the Petroleum Building. I was flown out on their plane every week to work on the new structure and had an office on the ground floor. But the big oil boom of the late 70's and early 80's was soon followed by the big oil bust of the mid 80's so the new building was never built. My second expeience in the building came almost 20 years later when I started with EGL Resources which had just formed, The building was owned by one of our partners.
And so now I'm back for the third stay this time on the SW corner of the third floor floor. A great space overlooking the park at Centennial Plaza and with tree tops right outside my windows. We were fortunate to get this office as it adjoins my partner Del Sloan and and is adjacent to the two engineers who will also be involved in our new venture, Embar Power LLC. Julie has been helping with the decorating and we never knew it would be so hard to find the appropriate furniture. But we're particular. We finally found a rather old Mission Style desk at an antique store that suits my taste to the "T". The file cabinets were another matter. I had thought that with some diligent searching we could locate the old style wooden ones to go with the rest of the motif. But alas none were to be found, so I had to settle for stock wooden models from Office Depot.
But it's starting to look rather good and I'm excited to be embarking on this new phase of my career. Particularly excited since today I got word from the representative of the two large corporations that are involved in our new venture that they are preparing a letter of intent to signify their handshake agreement on our deal. Hard to believe that after two years of research, stops and starts and toil that our dreams could actually be coming true. We're not ready to announce the project yet, but it involves gas, electricity and a new use for an under utilized fuel. Stay tuned.
Thursday, April 29, 2004
Bookish
Usually I don't participate in the latest quirky participation game, quiz, or list passed around on the Internet or email, but since I'm a great believer in books I'm taking the cue from Tim Blair and passing this one on.
Here are the instructions:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
Here's mine and believe it or not....when I opened my book, it fell open directly to page 23, strange.
"What do you mean, 'probable'?, Lovell asked, "did they survive or didn't they survive?"
This page 23, 5th sentence quote is from "Lost Moon, My Perilous Voyage on Apollo 13" by Jim Lovell and Jeffrey Kluge. A reference book that was sitting on my desk, a remnent of Jack's school history project on that subject. We'll be looking forward to reading yours.
Usually I don't participate in the latest quirky participation game, quiz, or list passed around on the Internet or email, but since I'm a great believer in books I'm taking the cue from Tim Blair and passing this one on.
Here are the instructions:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 23.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
Here's mine and believe it or not....when I opened my book, it fell open directly to page 23, strange.
"What do you mean, 'probable'?, Lovell asked, "did they survive or didn't they survive?"
This page 23, 5th sentence quote is from "Lost Moon, My Perilous Voyage on Apollo 13" by Jim Lovell and Jeffrey Kluge. A reference book that was sitting on my desk, a remnent of Jack's school history project on that subject. We'll be looking forward to reading yours.
Wednesday, April 28, 2004
The death of Oldsmobile....
I read today that the final days had come for Oldsmobile Americas oldest car company, a significant American brand, in business since 1897 and a part of General Motors since 1908. Sad it is and also a lesson in letting a brand with a huge and loyal customer base just slip away.
Back in the good old days of my youth getting an Oldsmobile meant you had moved up a notch in the social and economic conundrum. Until I was 16 we had been a two Chevy family...sedan and station wagon. But with one son headed to college and another soon to go, my Dad decided that with business going well, the lady of the house deserved a better means of transportation than the usual Chevy Bel Aire wagon. She got a nicely fitted out 1967 Cutlass Supreme. And it was nice inside and out, a fairly luxurious med-sized sedan with a big V-8, power windows [a real extra in those days] and well built. Though a family car it was fun to drive...not that I got the opportunity much, it was to nice a car for a teenager, or so the theory went.
After I was on my own, out of the Army and had run through my sports car craze [MGA, Triumph Tr-6, Corvette, Porsche] the first "regular car" I owned in Dallas was an Oldsmobile Cutlass. A beautiful 1976 Black on Black Coupe that was a joy to drive. However, having been gone from Texas for years, I forget that one never wants to own a completely black car here, thus the reason for the sale of the car within a year and a half...and the fact that I found another Corvette.
It was shortly after this period, in my opinion, that Oldsmobile started it's slide to obscurity. The cars started to have a cheap feeling about them and new exciting design was non-existant. They became the classic econoboxes of the late 70s and early 80's. They became the ride of choice for Grandma and Grandpa on a retirees budget. In truth, almost the entire American auto industry fell into this glum depression, but most car makers eventually recovered and starting making models that had, in some form, an air of glamour to them. Cars that young drivers could identify with, which like it or not, is what makes auto lines popular. I can't think of one exciting, glamorous or snob appeal car that Olds has made in the last three decades. And there apparently was no major attempt to revive the brand, no glitz machines, no sexy advertisements, no appeal to snobbery. Oldsmobile had just become the national generic plain vanilla car. No small wonder that the official reason cited for the end of production was lack of sales. Sizzle sells and the fire under Oldsmobile died years ago. To bad.
I read today that the final days had come for Oldsmobile Americas oldest car company, a significant American brand, in business since 1897 and a part of General Motors since 1908. Sad it is and also a lesson in letting a brand with a huge and loyal customer base just slip away.
Back in the good old days of my youth getting an Oldsmobile meant you had moved up a notch in the social and economic conundrum. Until I was 16 we had been a two Chevy family...sedan and station wagon. But with one son headed to college and another soon to go, my Dad decided that with business going well, the lady of the house deserved a better means of transportation than the usual Chevy Bel Aire wagon. She got a nicely fitted out 1967 Cutlass Supreme. And it was nice inside and out, a fairly luxurious med-sized sedan with a big V-8, power windows [a real extra in those days] and well built. Though a family car it was fun to drive...not that I got the opportunity much, it was to nice a car for a teenager, or so the theory went.
After I was on my own, out of the Army and had run through my sports car craze [MGA, Triumph Tr-6, Corvette, Porsche] the first "regular car" I owned in Dallas was an Oldsmobile Cutlass. A beautiful 1976 Black on Black Coupe that was a joy to drive. However, having been gone from Texas for years, I forget that one never wants to own a completely black car here, thus the reason for the sale of the car within a year and a half...and the fact that I found another Corvette.
It was shortly after this period, in my opinion, that Oldsmobile started it's slide to obscurity. The cars started to have a cheap feeling about them and new exciting design was non-existant. They became the classic econoboxes of the late 70s and early 80's. They became the ride of choice for Grandma and Grandpa on a retirees budget. In truth, almost the entire American auto industry fell into this glum depression, but most car makers eventually recovered and starting making models that had, in some form, an air of glamour to them. Cars that young drivers could identify with, which like it or not, is what makes auto lines popular. I can't think of one exciting, glamorous or snob appeal car that Olds has made in the last three decades. And there apparently was no major attempt to revive the brand, no glitz machines, no sexy advertisements, no appeal to snobbery. Oldsmobile had just become the national generic plain vanilla car. No small wonder that the official reason cited for the end of production was lack of sales. Sizzle sells and the fire under Oldsmobile died years ago. To bad.
Tuesday, April 27, 2004
Step-Dadhood.....
It's been a busy week for a kinda' new Step-Dad. Full of baseball, track and history fair projects. Not complaining here.....really love doing it, but they seemed all to come at once. In fact they did.
Baseball: Jack is an above average little league player and gets his chance to show it and improve with a practice every week, and this week four games within 6 days. He goes to the game at about 5:30, we show up for the game by 6:00 and don't get home until 8:00. He pushes through with his homework and sometimes his chore of "pooper scooping" before the game, so by the time we get home it's time for him to shower up and think about bed time.
Track: Jack's school participated in the Christian Schools track meet this last Saturday. A meet of all the private schools in the area. They worked hard and we fit track practice in once a week, wedged into the baseball schedule. The meet was great fun. I'm glad we had a good time [we really did!] because Jack had to report to Ratliff Stadium in Odessa at Zero Early Thirty, 7:30, in the morning and we didn't get home, sunburned and tired, till around 6:00 that evening. It was a good time watching the kids run, spending the afternoon with one of my partners who also had a daughter in the meet, and later in the day, betting on the runners with Paul and my Father-in-Law Don. [not real money....this was a Christian track meet]. Jack did well, winning his 50 yd. dash prelims but losing in the finals. I got to have my first "losing is OK" talk with him, and explaining that not all of us have "fast twitch muscles" like the Neboh kids who won everything. Genetics is important. Their mother is from Kenya and was an Olympic medalist in the hurdles.
History Project: The St. Ann's School history fair was this week. Next year we won't wait till the last day to complete the project. I got to have my first "sports is good, but school comes first" talk with Jack about this. Jack chose the Apollo 13 story as his topic and had done some bit of preliminary work, getting his story board planned out and then emailing my brother who is a Deputy Director at NASA for some web based resources. But the actual construction, printing of pictures and some research was left to the Mom and Me. It looks good, Jack is proud of it, and we got to have an entire Sunday afternoon and on into evening bit of family time.
And tonight, well tonight we get to have our first homecooked, sit down actual familly dinner together in weeks. We get to review Jack's school work and rest. We'll need it.....there's a baseball game coming up soon.
Track [Jack at left] and History Project
It's been a busy week for a kinda' new Step-Dad. Full of baseball, track and history fair projects. Not complaining here.....really love doing it, but they seemed all to come at once. In fact they did.
Baseball: Jack is an above average little league player and gets his chance to show it and improve with a practice every week, and this week four games within 6 days. He goes to the game at about 5:30, we show up for the game by 6:00 and don't get home until 8:00. He pushes through with his homework and sometimes his chore of "pooper scooping" before the game, so by the time we get home it's time for him to shower up and think about bed time.
Track: Jack's school participated in the Christian Schools track meet this last Saturday. A meet of all the private schools in the area. They worked hard and we fit track practice in once a week, wedged into the baseball schedule. The meet was great fun. I'm glad we had a good time [we really did!] because Jack had to report to Ratliff Stadium in Odessa at Zero Early Thirty, 7:30, in the morning and we didn't get home, sunburned and tired, till around 6:00 that evening. It was a good time watching the kids run, spending the afternoon with one of my partners who also had a daughter in the meet, and later in the day, betting on the runners with Paul and my Father-in-Law Don. [not real money....this was a Christian track meet]. Jack did well, winning his 50 yd. dash prelims but losing in the finals. I got to have my first "losing is OK" talk with him, and explaining that not all of us have "fast twitch muscles" like the Neboh kids who won everything. Genetics is important. Their mother is from Kenya and was an Olympic medalist in the hurdles.
History Project: The St. Ann's School history fair was this week. Next year we won't wait till the last day to complete the project. I got to have my first "sports is good, but school comes first" talk with Jack about this. Jack chose the Apollo 13 story as his topic and had done some bit of preliminary work, getting his story board planned out and then emailing my brother who is a Deputy Director at NASA for some web based resources. But the actual construction, printing of pictures and some research was left to the Mom and Me. It looks good, Jack is proud of it, and we got to have an entire Sunday afternoon and on into evening bit of family time.
And tonight, well tonight we get to have our first homecooked, sit down actual familly dinner together in weeks. We get to review Jack's school work and rest. We'll need it.....there's a baseball game coming up soon.
Friday, April 23, 2004
Ranger Tillman....
Pat Tillman gave up a $3.6 million dollar contract as the starting safety with the Phoenix Cardinals to serve his country. Pat was killed in an ambush Thursday while serving with the 75th Rangers in Afghanistan. His coach Dave McGinnis said he felt both overwhelming sorrow and tremendous pride in Tillman, who "represented all that was good in sports."
No coach, that's not quite right. Pat represented all that's good in America. Maybe that's why he left professional sports. And perhaps his death will serve as a reminder that there are some things more important than who wins the Superbowl, or the NBA Championship or the money that come with these. They are called life and liberty.
Pat Tillman gave up a $3.6 million dollar contract as the starting safety with the Phoenix Cardinals to serve his country. Pat was killed in an ambush Thursday while serving with the 75th Rangers in Afghanistan. His coach Dave McGinnis said he felt both overwhelming sorrow and tremendous pride in Tillman, who "represented all that was good in sports."
No coach, that's not quite right. Pat represented all that's good in America. Maybe that's why he left professional sports. And perhaps his death will serve as a reminder that there are some things more important than who wins the Superbowl, or the NBA Championship or the money that come with these. They are called life and liberty.
Tuesday, April 20, 2004
Julie Moore....
Julie Moore died Sunday at the age of 75. Julie was the wife of Gen. Hal Moore who commanded the 1/7th Cavalry at the battle at LZ Xray in Vietnam. A battle immortalized in the film We Were Soldiers. Mel Gibson played the part of then, LTC. Moore and with almost equal film time the part of Julie was aptly played by Madeleine Stowe. This was a good thing, because Mrs. Moores role in real life was equally as important as her husbands.
I met Mrs. Moore for the first time in November of 2001 at the Washington D.C. reunion of those who survived the battles in the Ia Drang. I introduced myself as a good friend of We Were Soldiers author and correspondent Joe Galloway and was surprised to hear her say that she knew of me and then she proceeded to relate several things about my life that Joe had apparently told her. She was one of those persons whom you instantly feel you've known for a very long time. The photo above was taken on that occasion with my friend Bruce Crandall, who was played by Greg Kinnear in the film.
Over the last three years I saw Mrs. Moore again once and talked to her twice on the telephone during times I had occasion to call Gen. Moore. I'm still humbled that in those times she treated me as a friend of long standing and asked me about current situtions in my life, how my family was and sent a personal note wishing "my" Julie and me the best in our then upcoming marriage. I can see how all those who served under Gen. Moore in Vietnam idolize her, they way they do her husband. And I feel anguish for Gen. Moore, her surviving children and people like Joe Galloway to whom she was more than just a close personal friend, she was a guiding star in their lives.
I won't say anymore, Joe has expressed the feelings of many in his newspaper column. There will never be another Julie Moore. Julie Moore, by Joe Galloway
Saturday, April 17, 2004
Chaparral Racing....A tribute
Some things don't change. Like a newly licensed teenaged boy's interest in cars. Fast Cars. For me and my friends, when we starting driving at age 14, those cars were Chaparrals. For two reasons. First, they had just burst upon the racing scene and they were winning. Secondly, they were built right here in our smallish hometown by a young, good looking bon vivant named Jim Hall. Frankly, some of our friends were more interested in hot rods, suped up jalopies and drag racing. This group would later become fans of "The Dukes of Hazzard" and NASCAR. We were interested in sports car racing. We would later become international sophisticates. In the then newly released 007 films, James Bond drove sports cars. That's where we wanted to be.
In those pre-media madness days we followed Chaparrals around the world the best we could by reading Road and Track, Sports Illustrated or by the mention in our local newspaper. We had Chaparral models, Chaparral slot cars, Chaparral posters and pasted Chaparral logos, when we could find them, on our car bumpers. On the occasions that we saw Jim Hall around town he was considered more of a luminary than any Hollywood movie star. We wanted to be like him.
And so this weekend I have been in heaven. It has been a weekend long occasion to honor Jim Hall, his cars and his place in racing and automotive history. Jim's engineering of the Chaparrals was revolutionary at the time, but so effective that it is common place today. Among these are his use of aerodynamics and his development of composite fiber bodies. The model "2J" was so effective it was banned from racing due to complaints from the competition.
Jims vision and achievements are finally getting the honor they are due from his hometown. The newly built Chaparral Gallery at our Petroleum Museum will tell the story of Chaparrals engineering marvels, racing achievements and house all of Jim Halls cars. A wise man, Jim kept all his machines together, housed in the shops where they were built south of town, functional and sparse. The new Gallery is anything but that. It is a magnificent place where frankly I had expected less. And the weekend celebration has been as equally stirring. And as noted by a fellow local Blog correspondent, the cars will be maintained in running order so these great machines will not be allowed to become just static pieces of art.
On Friday I had the good fortune to be seated in the front row, directly in front of Jim, at an afternoon forum discussing the Chaparral's history and significance. The panel consisted of almost every driver who piloted a Chaparral including luminaries like former world driving champion Phil Hill and the current Indy 500 champion, Gil de Ferren. Vic Elford was a star on the Porsche factory team when he accepted an offer to drive the Chaparral 2J, where he blew the competition away until the car was banned. Franz Weiz built engines for Chaparral from almost the very start and on through the Indy car team. He is still in Midland building Indy Series and Formula I engines to this day. He's a genius. The surprise of the day was the appearance of an unannounced panelist, the racing super legend and Jim's old competitor and good friend, Dan Gurney.
Saturday was a day aimed at acquainting the general public with the Chaparral story, and so I took Julie to see the cars and look around. And look around she did, getting excited about a Shelby Cobra that my friends at Panoz Racing had for sale, and with that in mind signing up for the Panoz Racing School at the Texas Motor Speedway. We're thinking September. We also had the opportunity to have a final chat with Vic Elford, a jovial Brit who has lived in the U.S. for the last three decades.
The whole weekend was special for me, but two occasions stand out. One was being able to walk through the exhibit after the forum concluded and chat with Gil de Ferren, his wife and two children. I had followed Gil's career from the time he signed on with the Chaparral Indy car team until he retired last year after winning at Indy. I was able to ask him questions about several races and to make the comment that I thought that he was the best road course driver on the Indy circuit and one of the most unlucky. He agreed. A nice, smart, likeable guy and a devoted family man.
My second, and the most memorable, event occured this morning at the old Chaparral garage complex south of town. I, along with about 20 others, was able to stand not 10 feet away from Jim Hall as he climbed into a Chaparral racer for the last time and drove it out to it's permanent place of retirement. I hope you might take the time to look at a few photos from this memorable experience, and watch a short video clip I shot of Jim driving out of the garage. It's a piece of history. View the photos at: Chaparral Gallery Opening
Tuesday, April 13, 2004
The War....
"We're a nation at war, and every day we read about the deaths of young Americans like Henry T. Waskow. We're at war but it hardly interrupts our lives. No one demands sacrifice of us.
In Henry Waskow's America, there were scrap metal drives and war bond drives and Victory Gardens, and food and fuel rationing. There was a draft that took 15 million American men into uniform and sent them into harm's way. Women took their places on the factory floors. Everyone had a part to play.
In the strange wars we're fighting today, only one thing seems certain: Until everyone begins paying attention to the wars, and to the threat that global terrorism poses to our way of life, and until all of us begin making some small contributions, we cannot hope for victory."
Thus writes Joe Galloway in his latest column. As you will read, Capt. Waskow died in Italy during WWII and his death was chronicled by the great story teller of the War, Ernie Pyle. This story has always had special significance for me because decades later, after my Regular Army service, I commanded the same company, "B" Company, 1st Bn. 143rd Infantry of the 36th Division, the Texas National Guard. Part of the 36th Airborne Brigade when I had it.
Sentimental connection not withstanding, I could not agree with Joe more on the importance of his message. With the news media full of finger pointers, the BlogWaves full of sites pro and con, the impassioned arguments for and against this and that concerning the "war" on terrorism....the tone and activity of daily life in America has not changed one iota. Whether one is for or against the actions in Afghanistan and Iraq, life for the average person has not been affected. While the troops in those theaters live daily in mortal fear for their lives, our biggest concerns at home revolve around complaining about the price of gasoline for our new SUV or trying to decide what new high tech digital device to buy.
Perhaps the Islamists are right in assuming that our own decadence and apathy will consume us.
"We're a nation at war, and every day we read about the deaths of young Americans like Henry T. Waskow. We're at war but it hardly interrupts our lives. No one demands sacrifice of us.
In Henry Waskow's America, there were scrap metal drives and war bond drives and Victory Gardens, and food and fuel rationing. There was a draft that took 15 million American men into uniform and sent them into harm's way. Women took their places on the factory floors. Everyone had a part to play.
In the strange wars we're fighting today, only one thing seems certain: Until everyone begins paying attention to the wars, and to the threat that global terrorism poses to our way of life, and until all of us begin making some small contributions, we cannot hope for victory."
Thus writes Joe Galloway in his latest column. As you will read, Capt. Waskow died in Italy during WWII and his death was chronicled by the great story teller of the War, Ernie Pyle. This story has always had special significance for me because decades later, after my Regular Army service, I commanded the same company, "B" Company, 1st Bn. 143rd Infantry of the 36th Division, the Texas National Guard. Part of the 36th Airborne Brigade when I had it.
Sentimental connection not withstanding, I could not agree with Joe more on the importance of his message. With the news media full of finger pointers, the BlogWaves full of sites pro and con, the impassioned arguments for and against this and that concerning the "war" on terrorism....the tone and activity of daily life in America has not changed one iota. Whether one is for or against the actions in Afghanistan and Iraq, life for the average person has not been affected. While the troops in those theaters live daily in mortal fear for their lives, our biggest concerns at home revolve around complaining about the price of gasoline for our new SUV or trying to decide what new high tech digital device to buy.
Perhaps the Islamists are right in assuming that our own decadence and apathy will consume us.
Saturday, April 10, 2004
This and That.....
9/11 Commission: not that we watch that much TeeVee network news, but now we've about given up on watching any at all. The blather coming from the TV set is too much. From Democratic Senators, Congressmen, "victims" and newsmen. The tone has been of "what did the Bush Administration do wrong, withhold or lie about". Someone to blame instead of finding things to fix. If the purpose of the commission is to assign blame, then the facts are exceeding clear on that point. Dubya and his folks had only been in office for 9 months prior to 9/11. Bill Clinton was in office for 8 years prior, during which time mayhem was perpetrated against the US at the World Trade Center I, the US Embassy in Africa, the USS Cole and Kobar Towers. What did Clinton do? Treat it as a crime, point his finger in the air and promise to bring those responsible to justice, fire a missile at the Afghani desert. Might someone on the commission focus on the failure of that administration to do anything decisive about the problem that was obviously brewing.
Voice from Iraq: Weak hearts who do listen to the major media may be wondering if the cost is worth the effort in Iraq. Perhaps we should listen to more Iraqis like Mohammed who is there.
Spring has sprung....Spring srang very early this year and consequently so did my tasks around the well groomed grounds of the estate. Well groomed because I toil like a Trojan this time of year. Today it was the mowing, edging etc., tomorrow I'll be digging up two dead Youpon Holly trees and replacing them along with 8 more Indian Hawthornes. It's work, but I have to say that with the toil and the recent rains, the backyard and tasteful mexican brick patio have never looked better.
9/11 Commission: not that we watch that much TeeVee network news, but now we've about given up on watching any at all. The blather coming from the TV set is too much. From Democratic Senators, Congressmen, "victims" and newsmen. The tone has been of "what did the Bush Administration do wrong, withhold or lie about". Someone to blame instead of finding things to fix. If the purpose of the commission is to assign blame, then the facts are exceeding clear on that point. Dubya and his folks had only been in office for 9 months prior to 9/11. Bill Clinton was in office for 8 years prior, during which time mayhem was perpetrated against the US at the World Trade Center I, the US Embassy in Africa, the USS Cole and Kobar Towers. What did Clinton do? Treat it as a crime, point his finger in the air and promise to bring those responsible to justice, fire a missile at the Afghani desert. Might someone on the commission focus on the failure of that administration to do anything decisive about the problem that was obviously brewing.
Voice from Iraq: Weak hearts who do listen to the major media may be wondering if the cost is worth the effort in Iraq. Perhaps we should listen to more Iraqis like Mohammed who is there.
"And I don’t care what those ‘political experts’ on the newspapers and TV channels, say about the ‘occupation’, deteriorated security and ‘unemployment’. You can’t understand this, because you never experienced real fear this long. Let me tell you about it, as I’m one of those who passed Saddam’s filthy test of life.The statue fell and with it, horror fell. You don’t know what it means to be scared to death most of your life, brothers and sisters. I knew that and I faced it during the reign of evil and darkness. I was afraid to talk, I wasn't allowed to think and I wasn't allowed to feel…I wasn't allowed to love. .......Yes, it’s the 9th of April. I lit the 1st candle today to celebrate my 1st year, as a free man and no one will prevent me from celebrating."
Spring has sprung....Spring srang very early this year and consequently so did my tasks around the well groomed grounds of the estate. Well groomed because I toil like a Trojan this time of year. Today it was the mowing, edging etc., tomorrow I'll be digging up two dead Youpon Holly trees and replacing them along with 8 more Indian Hawthornes. It's work, but I have to say that with the toil and the recent rains, the backyard and tasteful mexican brick patio have never looked better.
Wednesday, April 07, 2004
Another sad passing.....
Emmy Award winner Jack Smith has died at the age of 58 after a bout with cancer. Many people recognize Jack from his years as an ABC News TV correspondent, where he covered strife all over the world and more recently as that networks technology reporter. He was the son of legendary broadcaster Howard K. Smith. By all accounts Jack had a stellar career in journalism.
But many of us who knew him, or knew of him, count his exploits and survival in the Ia Drang Valley in 1965 as the true measure of the man. I wouldn't say that I knew him, but I had met him, chatted with him, and took the photo above at the Ia Drang survivors reunion in 2001. Despite his illness, Jack was the featured speaker at this years reunion just last November. He wanted to be with the people he treasured the most one last time. Jack is on the left with his old comrade Bud Alley. Jack was a soft spoken, calm and thoughtful man which belied the terrible violence he had endured.
For those who saw the Mel Gibson film, We Were Soldiers, the movie action in the Ia Drang in November 1965 ended with the 1/7th Cavalry being airlifted out after their 3 day struggle to survive. What is not shown, but reported in detail in Joe Galloway's book "We Were Soldiers Once and Young", is what happened to the 2/7th Cavalry and other units that came to the rescue of the encircled 1st Battalion. Ordered to march several miles to another helicopter landing zone named LZ Albany, these units were caught in a fearsome ambush that resulted in some of the heaviest casualties of the war. Some platoons were virtually wiped out. Jack, while pretending to be dead had a North Vietnamese soldier use his back to support a machine gun while firing at American soldiers, was wounded by an American grenade fired at the machine gunner and then survived the night listening to the enemy shoot his wounded comrades only yards away. Jack's piece for The Saturday Evening Post magazine Death in the Ia Drang Valley [scroll down] is one of the best, most terrifying, riveting and personal accounts of the Vietnam War ever written. I hope that you will take the time to read the article. Without a doubt it proves Gen. Shermans comment that is often misquoted as simply..."War is Hell".
Jack was a very close friend of some of my good friends, and I had hoped that my path in this life would cross his again. This is not to be, but the memory and legacy of his life will be celebrated and remembered by a great many people.
Tuesday, April 06, 2004
Our First......
And so I learned from The Midland Reporter-Telegram early this morning that the first soldier from Midland had been killed in Iraq. Robert Arsiaga was actually from Greenwood, a rural community once, that now in most ways is really a suburb of the City of Midland. His sister is also in the Army, while his two brothers are Marines, one, as stated above, having recently returned from Iraq. To quote a book, or perhaps a movie in my memory......."Where do we get such people?"
First Lady, Laura Bush was in town visiting her Mother, and made a point to visit Mrs. Munoz at her home. About all I can add is that my heart is heavy with grief and sadness for Roberts family. My heart having been through this before with comrades, personal friends and loved ones some 30+ years before in another time and place.
The rainstorms that drenched Midland all weekend had not let up Monday morning. The sky was heavy and thunderstorms in the forecast all day.
Sylvia Munoz has just finished writing a card to her son, Robert, who is stationed in Iraq. She's watching television alone when a story on the news catches her attention.
She hears the words Sadr City, Iraq. The name grabs her ear. The Shiite-majority neighborhood in recent days has been torn by some of the most severe violence it has witnessed since it fell to Americans a year ago.
Eight U.S. soldiers died in the conflict, she hears.
"Something made me feel weird about it," she said.
So she next calls her son Gilbert, who recently returned from Iraq himself. She asks Gilbert to look up some information on the Internet.
As she hangs up, she sees two men pull up to her driveway. They were military officials delivering the worst news, not that they had to say a word.
"I knew what they were going to tell me."
And so I learned from The Midland Reporter-Telegram early this morning that the first soldier from Midland had been killed in Iraq. Robert Arsiaga was actually from Greenwood, a rural community once, that now in most ways is really a suburb of the City of Midland. His sister is also in the Army, while his two brothers are Marines, one, as stated above, having recently returned from Iraq. To quote a book, or perhaps a movie in my memory......."Where do we get such people?"
First Lady, Laura Bush was in town visiting her Mother, and made a point to visit Mrs. Munoz at her home. About all I can add is that my heart is heavy with grief and sadness for Roberts family. My heart having been through this before with comrades, personal friends and loved ones some 30+ years before in another time and place.
Sunday, April 04, 2004
And then the rains came.....
What a weekend! Friday, the Mrs. and I stepped out for a couple of hours for Jack's Little League opener [he won]. When we stepped back in we almost stepped on, well the mess a sick dog makes when he can't get out into the backyard. Not able to hold it any longer his canine bowels just let go right on the living room floor. Sparing you the details of the mess, I'll just say that the smell was overpowering and it took almost an hour to clean it up. We'll be calling our carpet cleaners on Monday.
Saturday I engaged in manual labor, digging up 10 sickly shrubs and replacing them with new Indian Hawthorne. Lovely. And then the rains came. In West Texas it either makes an attempt to spit a few drops of rain, or it vomits copious quantities. This was the later. A few stray thunderstorms around 10 p.m. and then the main event starting at 4 a.m. Hard rain for four straight hours. This is always a welcome event as, for some reason, rain water makes the lawn grow 100% faster than using city water. But for the past year the joy of heavy rains at the Bedford Dr. estate have been tempered with dread. We have a roof leak. Well, actually, several now. Luckily, before retiring, we had set out our strategically placed bowls and towels. Unluckily, upon arising they were full and overflowing. So for most of the morning we cleaned, mopped and dried out the pantry in the laundry room and other damp spots.
The only humor in the situation resulted in the photo above. Through the deluge we could see a figure across the street, doing what in the downpour? Well, fertilizing the lawn of course. I'm not making fun of our friend Matt, had I not done my yard already I would have probably been out doing the same thing. [note the waves from the flooded street about to break over the sidewalk!]. More rain is expected tonight......and thunderstorms all week.
[Roofing note: lest we appear completely ignorant/indigent, we did have a roofer out to look at repairs three weeks ago. I'm still waiting on the quote....they appear to be three weeks late]
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