Amazing Clouds. I love capturing a sky like this. Too cool when I actually have my camera with me. 

Mr. Nasty - My American Idol

Yes, he is. Simon Cowell, famed for his biting sarcasm and smart remarks on The American Idol show, is my idol in a number of ways.

1. He tells the truth with no qualifiers, when everybody else pussy-foots around in efforts to placate, manipulate, or try to be seen as nice.

2. He may not be nice, but he's kind, which holds far more value, in my opinion. (His girlfriend says - and she ought to know - "Simon is the most truly kind man I have ever been with.")

3. He's courageous. He not only gives honest feedback, he follows his own advice and follows what he thinks he himself ought to be doing with his own life.

There are a lot of folks it seems who are agast and angry about how Simon "isn't nice" to the kids on the show. Well, he tells them the truth where others don't. If their singing is offkey, if they don't have what it takes to be a star, if they've been sold down the river by a billion other people who said otherwise - he tells them. And he isn't afraid of being told he's not being nice. He's not nasty; he's not mean, he's just honest. I like that.

What a perfect "job" - telling the truth and getting paid well for it. Now that's my kind of guy.

In my opinion, niceness is overrated.

And there is a big difference between niceness and kindness that is missed by most people. But then, most people are so invested in "being nice" that they don't see they are just being manipulative. The sad plight of our culture, I suppose.

More on this subject later.

Feeling Better....

Had some energy today. Actually got out of bed, got showered and dressed, and took care of some business. Did the whole day, but it plumb tuckered me out so I slept for 3 hours when I got home.

Stopped by the grocery store on the way home and bought me some chicken and mushroom soup to bake for tomorrow's dinner. You mix a little sage and a sprinkle of black pepper into the condensed mushroom soup, then spread it over the chicken in a greased (spray olive oil - healthier) baking pan and bake. Yum.

I must be feeling better. I'm thinking about cooking something. I'll take that as good news.

Since I've been out on sick call all kinds of stuff has piled up out at the shop. Everybody's been great at trying to take care of things while I've been gone, but my absence really shows. It's like there's been a time warp and a lot of things just stopped when I left, and nothing's happened without me there making it happen. Time to get back to work.

A buddy of mine told me today that it's a hoot to run a search on favorite topics 'cuz you find out who else likes the same thing you do. I might try that soon. I'm thinking I'll try a search and see if there's anybody else out there who like jeeps like I do, or my kind of hound. I wonder if there are any other Marines who have a blog.

Hey, here's a good one. Maybe I oughta search for Priscilla Queen of the Desert! I wonder if there's anybody else out there who liked that movie.

Not tonight though. Gotta go to bed and close these baby blues. Maybe tomorrow.

G'night.

Being sick really sucks!

OK. Here I am beginning another week and I'm still sick. When I came down with the fever and chills I thought it would be just a day or two. Then the nausea hit. And learning to LIVE on the pot is no fun at all. So ok, I thought - let's get it over all at once. I'm game for that. I'll be over this thing in a day or two, no longer.

But noooo. Here I am still woozy, still weak and shaky, and I feel like I've been run over by a Mack truck. At least the nausea is gone, and I have graduated from having the bathroom be my home. I can't stay out of bed long though - too weak.

I think my fever broke last night though 'cuz I woke up all in a sweat. Maybe I'm on the mend. At least I feel better enough today to pull up the net and surf a bit and post here in my blog, so that's a good thing.

I like to look for the positive when I can, and for a couple of days it's been raining while I've been sick in bed. That was nice. I've always liked to curl up in bed with the blankets wrapped around me while it's raining outside, so that part was kinda cool.

The rest of it really sucks though. And it's really crazy the last two days - It feels really stupid to count my progress by the hours I spend OUT of the bathroom. Damn.

I'm getting tired. Who would have thought that just typing and using a mouse would be strenuous! Hell, just sitting upright in a chair is tough! But at least I'm sitting in a chair and not on the john. Thank God for that.

A good friend of mine came over and made me this huge kettle of chicken soup a couple of days ago. Bless her! And it's great soup, too. It's all I've felt like eating . Well, I did add some Saltines yesterday, but that's it. The really crazy thing is, it still tastes good to me, even after a week of nothing but soup. I guess the body doesn't lie. I've only got maybe a bowl or two left though, so I've GOT to be better by tomorrow so I can fix myself something else to eat.

I'll go stumble off to the couch now for awhile, maybe watch a little TV, and gather my strength a bit before I make the long trek back into the bedroom.

The Hulk, Priscilla, and Being Sober

Today is the 5-year anniversary of my being clean and sober. I'm still amazed at the difference it's made in my life. I can't believe how long I had myself fooled into thinking I didn't have that big of a problem, and that it wasn't taking that big of a toll on my life. Hah! Denial is a nasty bugger. And today was a perfect day to celebrate.

Funny how no matter how beautiful the day is, if you've got too much shit goin' on inside to enjoy it, who cares. But today was one of those great "I'm here for it" days. And it was a nice day for it, too. Blue skies, warm, cool breeze, snow still on the mountaintops, Spring flowers all over the place. Love it. Just me, my dog, and my Jeep. Yeah!

Saying it was a "nice day for it" reminds me of a line in one of my all-time favorite movies "Priscilla, Queen of the Desert." (Probably somewhat of a cult film, and I'd probably never hear the end of it if my brothers in the Corps ever knew I'd ever watched it, let alone liked it. Good thing I retire this year.)

Anyway, at one spot in the movie, in the middle of the Australian desert, this great Aboriginal guy says "Nice night for it." He doesn't say what "it" is, but you get the idea that whatever "it" is, it's a nice night for it. In the movie they have an impromptu party of sorts. But today, it was a great day to be "here for it." Really here for it. Very Cool. Kinda like being the Incredible Hulk (another favorite - the Original, not the ridiculous imitation in the recent movie remake) for real, without having to be green or wear funky torn pants or anything. Great day.

All-Round Success: Courage

I just ran into a chap who has posted on his blog a really great piece on courage. I say 'oorah!
All-Round Success: Courage

Do I like war?

I was watching another war documentary on the History Channel tonight. A friend stopped by, saw what I was watching, and said "Do you like war? I hate it. It's pointless."

In the short term, it often seems pointless, I agree. The inherent horrors of war demand there be purpose enough to merit the fight. I know. I've experienced war. I've lost people buddies, even family, to war's terrible fist. I've huddled all night, not breathing, deep in enemy territory, terrified - but preparing to continue the mission nonetheless. Etc.

Some war isn't even fought on a traditional battleground, but still has lethal consequences - body, mind or spirit. I know war of that sort too. A number of different them. Every single person in war is a casualty in some way. No one comes away unscathed. You don't have to take a hit from a bullet or shrapnel to be a casualty of war.

I also know imprisonment - physical, mental, and spiritual. Now there's true horror. Many people on this little blue and white planet of ours will never know anything else. The sad thing is, many don't even know they are imprisoned.

No, my friend, I don't like war. But I do love freedom. I'm not one to pick a fight, and I try to choose by battles wisely. But I do fight for freedom - of every sort. And I cheer for others who do the same.

One thing I do know, is the practice of personal integrity, rather than personal agenda, often prevents war between people and between countries. As I practice a code of personal integrity myself, my relationships run smoother, I feel better about myself, and things have a tendency to go more my way.

The counter at the bottom of this blog is a small effort to encourage an awareness of the practice, or lact of, personal integrity of one member of our governing elite - as an example.

On January 30th, 2005 Senator John Kerry promised, on national TV, to sign form SF-180 and release his military records, which may or may not back his claim that he is agenuine Vietnam war hero. To raise awareness, I’ve put up a clock on this page, which keeps track of the number of days since John Kerry made his promise.

I believe that the foundation integrity of a country is only as deep as the integrity of it's leaders.
No matter what political affiliations you have, it’s in everyone’s best interest for the senator to be held accountable to his word, sign SF-180, and release his records.

Signing form SF-180 would shine a bright light on his seemingly murky Vietnam War record, and either prove that he’s a genuine war hero, or the fraud that the Swift Vets claim he is. Either way, another politician would be held to accountability to his word, rather than allowed to gloss things over, let things slide, for the purpose of personal agenda or to manage impressions.

If you wish, you too can put up such a clock on your blog! Check http://polipundit.com/index.php?p=6628\ for the code.

The Beauty of Courage

OK, I've found something beautiful that demands a comment - if only to myself.

It's my birthday today, so I gave myself a present and watched a war documentary on the History Channel of World War II aviator Roy Allen.

From journals and letters of family and friends, he carried to war a dedication to being his very best in the areas of his strengths, and a determination to overcome in areas of weakness. This strength of his spirit carried him through the most horrendous danger and difficulty.

He was looked to as a leader by many, and merited it. He acknowledged the bravery of others, and refused to allow fear to reign in his actions. He took risks, but was not reckless. He valued life, but wasn't afraid of death. He shared his fortunes, without expecting fortune in return.

The brilliance of his soul shown out to me through the flickering screen of the TV, as clearly as if he himself were present. A light like that cannot be hidden from those who see.

He returned home to Pennsylvania, to his wife and a son he had never met. He lived out the rest of his life there, raising 4 children and never much "cane".

Roy Allen died in 1991, but the beauty of his courage lives on.

One of my favorites

I've decided to try my hand at this blogging thing. Why? Because the fog is finally clearing. Hence, the title. So here's an old favorite poem for starters. And it kind of says a lot about me, too.

The Raggedy Man

O The Raggedy Man! He works for Pa;
An' he's the goodest man ever you saw!
He comes to our house every day,
An' waters the horses, an' feeds 'em hay,
An' he opens the shed
--an' we all ist laugh
When he drives out our little old wobbly calf;
An' nen--if our hired girl says he can
--He milks the cow for 'Lizabuth Ann.
--Ain't he a' awful good Raggedy Man?
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!
W'y, The Raggedy Man--he's ist so good
He splits the kindlin' an' chops the wood;
An' nen he spades in our garden, too,
An' does most things 'at boys can't do!
--He clumbed clean up in our big tree
An' shooked a' apple down fer me
--An' nother'n, too, fer 'Lizabuth Ann
--An' nother'n, too, fer The Raggedy Man
--Ain't he a' awful kind Raggedy Man?
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!
An' The Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes
An' tells 'em, ef I be good, sometimes;
Knows 'bout Giunts, an' Griffuns, an' Elves,
An' the Squidgicum-Squees 'at swallers therselves!
An', wite by the pump in our pasture-lot,
He showed me the hole 'at the Wunks is got,
'At lives 'way deep in the ground, an' can
Turn into me, er 'Lizabuth Ann!
Ain't he a funny old Raggedy Man?
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!
The Raggedy Man
--one time when he
Wuz makin' a little bow-'n'-orry fer me,
Says, "When you're big like your Pa is,
Air you go' to keep a fine store like his
--An' be a rich merchant
--an' wear fine clothes?
--Er what air you go' to be goodness knows!"
An' nen he laughed at 'Lizabuth Ann.
An' I says "M' go' to be a Raggedy Man!
I'm ist go' to be a nice Raggedy Man!
Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!"

James Whitcomb Riley

-------
Maybe the Raggedy Man in this poem knew more about life than people thought. I can't help thinking that some of the most important things are still best appreciated by children, who "don't know any better." They're not cynical and hardened yet, trying to impress or trying to cover-up. I've had the fog clear about a couple of mistaken identities myself.

That's it for today. When I find something else noteworthy I'll post again.