Morning Baruch Ha'Shem

This morning I awoke with this singing in my head...

Baruch Ha'Shem
Thank you Lord for letting me live throughout the night
Thank you Lord for letting awake in this beautiful morning's daylight
May I walk in your ways, so bright
Thank you Lord for holding me and protect me with your might
Thank you Lord for giving me another wonderful day
Thank you Lord for, for I will give thanks and Pray
Amen



And Godbless my wonderful friend CJ. We've been there forever for each other, or so it would seem. Pciking each other up, listening when there was something to be sai

Passover Memories 30Mar2010

Ahh Passover. Such fond memories of smiling around the table with all of my colorful and happy relatives of my mother's side in Southern California. Everyone was always happy to be there, to eat delicious turkey and fatty food, matza ball soup, matza with butter or margarine, chopped-up apple-nut and cinnamon charoset, hearty bread, red wine, soda... Even when some people had rougher years, we all ended up having a great time, a delightful occasion when Aunt Elizabeth stormed around her kitchen as a woman possessed on a mission, sometimes supplemented by my mother, all too eager to assist with the monumental task of dishing out plate after plate of food to over a dozen hungry and welcoming family members.

It's 01:25, and this post will be revised and expanded. There's so much more.

02:27 21 March 2010

I have arrived at the fully at the realization that I despise the state of Virginia. If Maryland is more of the same, than so be it. I will never return here, save for the utilities of either attending meetings, conferences, or training. I thoroughly despise this place, it's shitty roads, it's state police force and their Nazi-esque view of speeding, it's obese people, and the general lack of any culture or appeal, save for the historical significance of particular locations. Live long, and prosper, Eastern seaboard, but I will not be part of it.

20 March 2010

Stay up too late playing a video game on my computer the night of the 19th through the morning of the 20th. Push on through the fatigue, and go to the shooting range with Mac and Wiggs. Show on up, nobody's there. Stick around, and Carlo shows up, and the event is on. We all have a spectacular time, shooting and running around the inside of a concrete bay full of paper and steel targets, running through everything three times and then some before the morning is finished. After finishing up and running over to the MCX, we come back and pick up the heffer and Rick, and roll of to Ruby Tuesday's. We eat our food and enjoy our time, and that's all there was to that.

We come back. I use the restroom, return to my bed, and take a nap. During the nap, I dream that I shoot someone at close range, in my apartment. WTF!?!?! It's such an awesome day! Damnit! Where did this come from? Why'd this have to happen? Such crap. I'm pretty far from being comfortable with this. If I was in a combat zone, say Iraq or Afghanistan, than jeez, fine, I'd be a whole lot more comfortable with that. The last thing anyone in the states wants is legal entanglement. What a speed-bump in my day. Ahh well. More soothing things to follow.

High Speed, Low Drag 10 November 2009

"I'm telling you, man, if you go officer, you're gonna hate your life, though you'll get paid more. If you stay enlisted, you'll get to do all the fun stuff" Q talked to me about how it would be, being with the operators. Me with my expensive college degree, wasted on the conventional Navy, would perhaps set me apart and make me noticed within the world of Special Ops. I'm tired of being surrounded by children, fat, lazy people with superior rank to me, and the general consensus that coming in to work at 0730 and leaving at the end of a normal work day after sitting around an office, processing seemingly effectual paperwork will somehow amount to something (dare I speak of improving national security) - it's driving me nuts.

Smart Weapons.

*Sitting there with my 45 on my lap. I chamber a round. I rack the slide and watch the hollow-point land on my bed. Again. Again. I do this until the weapon is empty, and I'm holding the H&K USP in my hand with the slide back, innards showing.

"My wife died five months ago."
"Wait, what?"
"my wife died five months ago. Yeah, she died of an embolism in her brain. Her brain filled with blood and she died in my arms before the paramedics could arrive."
(Unholy fucking shit!)
"Shit.... that's terrible..."

I know you're out there Gerry. I know you're a warrior, a policeman and hero to the core of your being. I know you've seen much death and despair and misery throughout your time. You are one of the best men I've ever met, and your service to God, country, and community are beyond comparison to that of mortal men.

*Sighting the three white dots together, my brain flashes to the range, and how accurate the USP was. Turning the weapon to the side, I narrow my eyes in careful inspection of the crisp lines and dark, handsome features of the hand gun.


He counseled DJ on K's alleged rape:
"My first question to her would be" why haven't you gone to the hospital yet? If she goes to the hospital, they'll take her and start collecting evidence immediately."

On Aisha's shooting:
"All the women shoot bullseyes and then they start to gravitate lower; they think 'yeah, I'm not gonna kill him, I'm gonna hurt him for life!'"
(We all chuckle)

On Aisha's attitude:
"what's with the defeatist attitude with this one? Sailors, sheesh, I tell ya..." (he says with a grin and twinkle in his eye)

Turning the hollow point round over in my hand, feeling the hexagonally-shaped head of the round, my mind flashes statistics and scientifically recorded information. Free of the sterile environment of magazines, laboratories and over-exaggerating gun nuts, the weapon and ammunition become real. Here I am, 29, and now, finally, it's all real.


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It is my humble opinion, that there will never be enough Gerry's in this world, and that we, the American people, or any other people for the matter, will always want someone as giving and ever-loving as he. He is a man that emanates hope, patriotic chauvinism, and love for his fellow man. God bless you, Gerry.

Self-Medicating...

So here I am, sitting in front of my computer after a day's work and effort. Waking at 6, getting to work and diligently searching and hammering away on a computer. There was no PT this morning, nor was DJ off in time to join me after work. Come to think of it, he hasn't yet sent me a text or a missed call in response.
I could've pursued so many different paths in life, as so many other people have probably thought at one time or another (though perhaps less than you or I think). I was always attracted to the military, and yet I couldn't tear myself away from my fascination of it; the giving of self to the higher ideals of preservation of society and our current and future ways of life, international travel (hopefully) for professional reasons, and the hopes of doing something truly worth remembering - if not utterly historically significant.
I could have pursued my fascination with firearms and gone into metallurgy and weapons research, or taken that same love of materials and man-made machinations and gone into the aerospace industry.
I can still go into international relations at a higher level, at some point earning my masters in IR and doing something more with myself with respect to the State Department or something of the like later on. I do love computers, and, Lord willing, I will stay in or around the field for some time longer.
I can still transition, and go into the business field, somehow, someway. Perhaps I can ripen my chances with an MBA? Eh, I dunno. I get a warmer fuzzy from the previous short paragraph.


I think it's good that I can recount my strengths, seeing as how weaknesses and reasons to dislike, despise, and doubt myself can seem more plentiful than the positive aspects against them. I'm 29, and though I could be much better of than I am right now, well, hmmm. I don't think I can really see myself any worse off. Damnit. Without a degree? Without a job? Without a clean legal record? Without my mind, myself, or any honor at all? Well there I go, combating the bad with the good again. Perhaps I've won this time? It's good that I have options for the future.