Veterans education

Today is the "eleventh day of the eleventh month" and in 1918 it was the end of World War one and then became Veteran's Day. We are supposed to thank a Vet for our freedom and I did. I am also a Vet and spent some time at my fifth-graders school today lunching and answering questions that had more to do with "Call of Duty" than anything historical. Not that I'm complaining about that, history comes alive only if one can relate to it. If the children can relate to a historical , though violent, video game then so be it. They had some pretty good questions.

There were many veterans at the school today and though I was probably not the youngest, I was certainly closer to the students age then I was to the oldest veterans present. Those guys, the old ones, they are a proud bunch. They have stories, most do, of warfare and survival and heroics. I felt a little embarrassed when asked when did I serve, '86 to '91. Desert Storm? nope, Ft. Hood. Oh.

I did a little better when asked what I did and the kids found out I was a medic. They wanted to know if I ever shot anybody protecting my casualties. I then got points when one child asked the group of us if anyone ever shot an RPG. I had and said so, then I became a serious contender. The old guys were a little miffed then. They wanted to teach the children about duty, honor, the importance of education. Of course they were talking about their duty, honor, and education not the kid's. The kids wanted to talk about cool shit like guns and jets and those things.

By the end of the day the only real competition I had was with a dude who drove tanks during the Vietnam thing, though he drove them in Germany. That's pretty cool and he even said a couple of things about education, but he didn't beat it in the ground though. I mean, we were at a school. A good school full of kids who, for the most part, want to be there. I had even him beat though because by then the little boys were going down the list of weapons they knew of and asked me what I shot. I shot a lot of different things, one of the perks of being a medic. Medics have to be on the firing range at all times. The AK47 put me over the top. Education, I educated the kids when I pointed out that the AK was,is our enemy's weapon. More questions followed. The long winded, ancient Naval fellow who served though the ENTIRE Vietnam conflict had nothing for that, all he did was watch missiles shoot off the destroyer.

This is what I learned today. Kids have no concept of many things, the simpler the better. I know that Vietnam guys and WWII guys were there and I was training National Guard Medics to go to war. I was in no danger, they lived it. However, they didn't shoot an AK47 or wear a cool red cross on their arm. I did.

So today...I won.

Visually challenged crosswalks.

In my home town, Mount Dora, FL. there is a crosswalk downtown. The crosswalk downtown is the intersection of the two main streets. The crosswalk has an auditory device that allows visually impaired pedestrians to apparently cross either of the two streets. The device makes two different piercing sounds, one for each street, I think. I find it interesting because, as far as I can tell, that is the only intersection in town that is equipped with this device. It is not the only intersection though. How does a visually impaired individual find their way to that intersection in the first place?

I bring this up only because I have found a second such intersection in Florida. My wife and I are at a crappy hotel at Florida State University in Tallahassee. Outside, right outside, is a device just like the one back home. The thing sounds like a laser in a science-fiction movie. A very loud laser. I don't know if the intersection one block over has one or if the blind are secluded to this four block area like Mount Dora. I do know that this thing is loud. Perhaps it is for blind folks who are hard of hearing also. It sounds like a space war out there.The space war, however, is not a problem in the least because we also happen to be across the street from what is obviously Tallahassee's dominant Thursday evening nightspot. This is not what my story is about though. This is just an observation.

I could not wait to pull my laptop and share with you our adventures in getting here. I wanted to tell you about Jack Riley in Ocala who helped us by loading up my blown tire, driving back to work, mounting and balancing a new tire on my rim, returning and installing the tire on his own time. He did not screw us. He is a very nice man. He is a small hero who helped a couple. I also wanted to share with you about how my wife who was very upset and freaking out a little then said I had to be the luckiest man EVER because the random man I asked at the gas station happened to be an honest man who worked at a tire joint.

That's not all. As far as being the luckiest man EVER is concerned, there are some things you just can't say out loud, like, "You are the luckiest man EVER!".
About a half an hour farther into our three hour drive we stopped again for a "potty" break. It was shortly after that, as the sun set that I noticed a variety of problems with my vehicle. The wire connecting the alternator to the battery had burned up because apparently the positive battery cable was loose. I then asked another random guy at a gas station if he knew where I could get a cable. He did and we left to follow him to a shop that was still open. We didn't make it. He, Kenny, called his buddy, Marty who then towed us to his shop, fixed the cables and charged us almost nothing for it. These guys, Kenny, Marty, and Marty's brother are also kind hearted heroes.

Two for two. Am I lucky? I don't know. I have a decent vehicle, two serious problems having nothing to do with one another is not good luck. That's bad luck, maybe, I mean no one got hurt. Then meeting several good folks gave me faith in people. I am a fortunate man though, it would seem I broke even today. We made it here and we will make it home and we learned that the trip, with the right attitude and the right point of view, the trip is everything, the trip is the destination or should be.

Then we arrived, met with our son and his teammates who were in their hotel room, shaving...each other. To be fair they were shaving each others arms in preparation for tomorrow's competition and an opportunity to advance to the state meet. I can only hope they shaved their own legs. Perhaps I should explain that they are swimmers.

I was in a rush in the crappy hotel to get my laptop and share with you all of this and then I opened my computer and connected and found out about the shootings at Fort Hood Texas.

I know now that if my truck breaks down everyday for the rest of my life I am lucky. I hope it goes without saying that our hearts are here a thousand miles from there reaching out to everyone, anyone, there. I hope that all the friends I met last year are safe and everyone they know is safe also.

The trip is worth the journey.

Shrimp's good

Blinking. Blink, blink, blinky, blink.

Keyboard. Screen. Full battery. Empty mind.

Can't think, wait... what time do I have to be at my appointment tomorrow? What about after that? Is there gas in my vehicle?

Can't think. Full Battery. Full mind, too full.

Rollie-pollies, hotels, schedules, wife, wife, wife, kids, food. Am I still hungry? No, groceries, bills, bills, what time is it? Politics, news, personal issues, world series, world cup soccer (yeah, I know but true...I'm thinking about it), can or should I reuse a previous blog? Yes! NO!! Well, perhaps if I rewrite it. What time was it?

My daughter and I saw a man choke tonight at dinner. Then we saw another man become a lifesaver. Really. It was interesting. It used to mean something to save a life. Hey! You!! The man who saved another man today!! GOOD FOR YOU!! I saw you! And so did my daughter! You are a hero! We haven't forgotten, yet.

I wonder what's going through the mind of the man who was choking, not while he was choking but now. Right now. What are you thinking right now? What about your wife, what's she thinking? The shrimp was pretty good.

Forty-one this month, aging but not old, yet. Does that give me instant credibility? Respectability? It shouldn't. But I hope so. You can't go back. Don't want to. I would like to turn off the fast-forward though. The Button is broke. Can't slow down. More gray hair. The old men were wrong. It does not suck to get old. Not yet, but then I don't need glasses, yet.

I look forward to meeting my grandchildren. From me a nation can grow and that is the only immortality and reincarnation that I know of. Isn't it good enough?

What time is it? Does writing this kind of thing make me feel better? Does reading it make you feel better? I hope yes to both but if it makes you feel better then that will do it for me. I hope, but then I am not a lifesaver.

Movie's on. When I was a boy you had to go to the movies or wait for Saturday. They were on all day and night Saturday but you had seen them already. Not anymore. It's a little distracting, makes it hard to write about writing being hard with a movie on.

Money? Not right now. That's alright, been poorer than I am right now. Been richer too. Can't really tell which one I'm meant to be. Time will tell.

Time will tell all. Time. Time is distance did you know that? Think about it. If you don't know you can ask, I'll tell you what I think about that. How far have you, we, I come?

Time. One man has a little farther to go tonight. What time is it?

Blink, blink, blinky, blink. Blinking.

Battery's full still. The cord's been plugged in the whole time. Time.