A Glimpse

    A few weeks ago I did something that I was uncomfortable with. I gave my notebook full of poems to my girlfriend to read. Shocking, yeah? A writer who posts his thoughts and feelings online for anyone and everyone to read. And yet, he's uncomfortable sharing his poems with the woman he loves above life itself. Odd no?

                                    Maybe it'll make sense if I explain myself and how I view writing and what it means to a person.

              Writing isn't just taking your thoughts and putting them out there for the world to see and admire or mock to their hearts content. It is also taking bits and chunks of your soul and exposing it to the cold light of day. You can truly see who you are and how you feel about things by writing them out.

                          Plus, writing under the cloak of anonymity of called the internet and watching as the person reacts to what you are sharing are two very different things. Another thing to take into consideration is the fact of my writing (my books, short stories and this blog) and my poems are different pieces of who I am.

     The poem, being more personal, actually means something to me and about me. It gives a deeper insight to the man I am and who I once was. When considering an eternal companion, the self-deprecation, angst, frustration, and confusion evident in my poems from the past is not something I'd have ever thought I would share with my love until after my girlfriend became my wife.
   Some of the things in there are things that I'd rather forget. Same with the things in my journals. (Which, coincidentally, I also let my [at this point] fiancé read.) And yet, I was willing to share my past self with her even though I am not proud of who I once was.


                 She found the writings... insightful. A glimpse to the child and young adult that eventually turned the man I am today. I'm fairly certain some of you are wondering where this post is going. Well, there are a few reasons it is being written.


The second reason is that I wanted to inflict upon the world my perspective about what writing means. A snapshot of your soul permanently placed for people to see. Now whether or not you let people know whose soul it is they're seeing is completely your prerogative,
                            The third is I needed to write. To get those rivers of thoughts and inspiration flowing between me and the story worlds.

But the main reason, first and foremost is, and will always be, for the woman I love and am going to marry. So I'm going to wax all poetical and write some about this amazing woman so that we can have a glimpse of who she is.

    I once told her that if I could I'd shout my joy and ecstasy from the rooftops. Well, since I'd rather not get the cops called on me for disturbing the peace or people thinking I'm a complete nut job, I'm going to state it from the podium I have access to.

So, babe, here goes. ;)

           I sometimes ponder upon my situation. I don't believe in reincarnation, but I do believe in a prior existence. I still have to wonder what fantastical amazing thing I may have done at some previous point in my existence to deserve the beautiful angel that I will soon be able to call my wife. The only way to describe how she and I came together is divine providence. This amazing woman has some wonderful qualities that will make her a fantastic wife and mother.

She is so kind and empathetic. She's a visionary woman who cannot help but be moved to tears when she feels the Spirit. Compassionate as well as determined. Once an idea has firmly set in her mind she will  fight for it with all of her might. Passionate. Loving and gentle. Stubborn and quite ornery, she is not a woman who will let herself be pushed into something she doesn't want to do. To quote Mulan: "A girl who's got a brain..." This woman is considerate, intelligent, beautiful, an avid reader, encouraging, non-judgmental and an extremely hard worker. Heck she doesn't even hold a grudge.She like to say that she's too lazy too hold a grudge.

                            She's dedicated to the things she feels are right and extremely loyal, especially to those she loves and respects. Unlike some girls, she doesn't play games of hard-to-get. Honesty is high on her list of qualities necessary in a relationship. Communication goes hand-in-hand with that one. We have no secrets. Seriously. I have told her every dark secret, everything I'm ashamed of. And she has returned that honor.

     Some of you may scoff and think I'm being naive or wearing blinders. That's cause you probably don't completely grasp utterly how much I trust this woman and how much she trusts me. And that's fine by me. I don't care what you narrow-minded, naysayers think. There are very few people in this world whose opinion I actually care about. Chances are, you aren't one.

                The honest truth of all of this is. I love my fiancé. I trust her, I love her and am lucky to have met her. Our relationship is based upon those things that truly matter in this world: Love, Honesty, Integrity, Communication, and Trust.

My dearest sweetheart,
                                     I love you with all heart and soul. I look forward to being the one you call "husband." I look forward to spending the rest of my life with you. I thank you for giving me your trust and your all. Thank you for taking a risk and going out with that awesome random guy who was so very nervous asking for your number. For saying "Yes" whilst I knelt before you, heart in throat and heading pounding. You are my-one-and-only, my future, my dream, my princess and my love. Thank you for all your are, all you give, and all you do. I look forward to many more years spent by your side. Always remember that I love you.

Raised By a Queen

Happy Mother's Day

                 This post applies to all Mothers. Whether you have biological kids, foster, borrowed, or otherwise. My own mother has four biological kids and a plethora of "adopted" children. She is their "'Nother Mother."

Whether you are actually a mother or not, you who care for others are a mother. You are a nurturer, you have someone who looks up to you. You are an example to someone. Someone you love and (though they may not show it) they most probably love you too. So don't be depressed that today is Mother's Day and you aren't a mother. Your divine calling is to be a mother. A guide to children. I know of some woman who, though they don't have kids of their own, raise others as though they carried them for 9 months.

             So now to honor the woman who has had the greatest influence on my life thus far, I decided I'd dedicate a post to her. (Hence the Lilacs, which I believe are her favorite flowers. If not, sorry Mom, but you were napping.)

                                 Mom, Mother, Mommy, Ma, Maja, Mom-lady, She Who Bore Me. Whatever you call her, she is the divine woman who loves you. Mine loved me enough not to kill me and my brothers when we fought. When we left little landmines (a.k.a. Lego pieces) all over the floor especially during conference weekend. When nobody broke the lamp. I mean I've got the threat of: "I brought you into this world and I can take you out and make another just like you." So, despite being a little hellion sometimes, I know my mother loves me. She tells me constantly and will constantly tell me until the day I die. (I've told you before Mom, you and Dad aren't gonna die. You're either gonna be translated or changed in the twinkling of an eye.)

   My Mom doesn't just tell me she loves me and my brothers. She shows it. Daily. A text to see what I'm up to. How my day is going. A call to see when I'm going to be home. (Both she and my dad don't sleep comfortably if we're not home or our location is kinda vague. It's almost like they worry or something. Hmm...) She also checks on me when she's passing my room and I'm reading, just to make sure I'm ok and alive. (I kinda don't talk or do much when I'm reading.)

                   My dearest maja is always there. She sometimes will call us into her room and just ask us about our life. How things are going, our relationship status (single, unfortunately), and just life in general. She makes a point of knowing my friends (most of whom are her "borrowed" kids). She trusts me enough that when I'm out, she doesn't ask where I am. She asks where I'm going. Once. Before I leave. I love her enough that I'll let her know when my plans change. I let her know where I am and if anyone joins or leaves our group whilst we are out and about. I do this because, even if she doesn't say anything, I know she's worried about me. I'd rather her not worry about me.

                              I know my mom loves me and all my brothers. She tells me and she shows me. And I reciprocate. I try not to do something that would make her upset. I could never do anything to hurt her. To break the trust she has in me.

     My mother is the greatest mother in the world. She raised a man, who treats every woman like a princess because he was raised by a queen. I know what unconditional love feels like, because of my mother. No matter what I do with my life, she would love me no less.



Mother Dearest,
                         I love you. I love you so much. Thank you for everything you do. You cannot understand the depths of my love, respect, and admiration that I have for you. I may be a daddy's boy, but that doesn't mean that you aren't my hero too. You are a shining example of what a mother should be. A template for what I want my future wife and mother of my children to be. I will always love you and everything you stand for.
                    Your Son.

9/11: Remember the Fallen

     With today being the 12th anniversary of the tragedy that was 9/11, we all should take a moment to pause and remember those who lost lives and loved ones. To those who experienced the heartache of losing a family member, friend, or co-worker, our hearts and prayers once again go out to you and your families.

     Today, however, I want to specifically focus on those who lost their lives while attempting to rescue everyone. The First Responders. Heroes.

     Cops and firefighters rarely get the credit that they so richly deserve, yet oft don't seek. They're usually the kind of person willing to sit back after everyone is safe and continue a silent vigil, watching for any other problems that might arise.

     In this instance, the police and firefighters stared Death in the face, shrugged, and charged into the World Trade Centers, seeking out those who were unable to get themselves out. They also directed those who were able to safety. Time and again they entered, not knowing if they would come back out. And yet, they continued to go back in. They may have been afraid. Maybe they were at peace. Who knows what they were thinking or feeling. All we can be certain of is that they pushed the fear down and faced their own mortality time after time after time. They quieted that rational part of the brain that screams "DANGER" and saved countless others.

     Unfortunately, this tale does not have the picturesque, story book ending. The heroes still inside did not emerge from the dust, hauling several more wounded one their back with nary a wound or battle scar. Some of these heroes, did not return. They were the ones carried out.

      The things these people are willing to do for complete strangers are amazing. They are willing to give everything. And too many times, they give it all.

  The next time you see someone who puts their life on the line for your safety (whether firefighter, police officer, or soldier) thank them. Thank them from the bottom of your heart. They deserve it.

P.S. Yellowcard wrote a tribute song for these heroes. Here it is for you to listen to.

The Watson and Sam Defense

Sherlock and Watson                                                           Frodo and Sam


     What could these four have in common? Well, for one they become best of friends over their adventures. Another is that I'm a huge fan of both. (Yes, I'm a major nerd. I have read the books. Well, most of them. I'm still not up to date on the Holmes stories.)

   These four also have in common the rumors and incorrect assumptions that they're gay. Now to those who think these things I say: "Were you born stupid or was that feature installed later in life?"

    Like I mentioned before I've read the books. Have you? I would assume not. You've most likely only watched the movies and/or T.V. shows. If you have read the novels and still think this then I don't need to ask if you were born stupid, you practically confirm that you slept in the day God gave out intelligence.


  You misguided souls need to realize something about these writings. They were written in a more innocent time. The Lord of the Rings was written from between 1937 and 1949, whilst Sherlock Holmes was written between 1887 and 1927. While Sherlock was written about the day and age that the stories took place in, The Lord of the Rings was not. Not only did it take place in another time, but another place. These kinds of ideas would not have been openly written about.

   In L.O.T.R. Sam and Frodo are good friends, but not the best thereof. Sam worked for Bilbo and Frodo as their gardener. Through time, test, and trial Frodo and his faithful, companion Sam become, not just best friends, but brothers as only trial and fighting for your life can.

   Meanwhile back in London, Sherlock and Watson. Sherlock, a "high-functioning sociopath", may be a genius, but he is lacking when it comes to social skills. I highly doubt that he could truly understand a relationship the way it was intended, let alone an alternate one. (By understand I mean comprehend how he would go about it.) If you read the books, you'd see that Watson gets married. Maybe as many as three times, but probably two (There is some debate about how many times). From Watson's words about Mary (his first wife) throughout the stories, we can deduce that he does love her. She is not his beard.

      These stories are wonderful (and quite often nerdy) parables. They help us see the good in the world. The good that we can do. And you people pervert them with your accusations and rumors. You taint what is a bromance. A deeply felt, but rarely expressed feeling of brotherhood. The other thing these four characters have in common is that they are brothers. They are there to support each other through the tribulations they're going through. They don't see each other like that. Sam and Watson only see Rosie and Mary  (Their wives, respectively.)  that way.

   Don't taint what is with something that should not be.

My Guiding Star. My Polaris.

31 years and counting...

     This month marks the 31st anniversary of my awesome parents. So I figured I'd write a tribute to them. Without them, I would literally not be here. Thanks to them, I am who I am today. I am being molded into the man I am supposed to be from the potential that I have. They've guided me and my brothers for nearly 26 years.

     They are the ones who helped me realize my love of reading and writing. Both of them are avid readers. This lead me to explore books for myself which opened my eyes and my imagination to some marvelous worlds. Fantasy worlds like Narnia, Roshar, and Corscant as well as fictional Earths with guides such as Gaiman, Koontz, and Clancy.

    My writing abilities are largely my own. Gathered from my reading materials as well as my imagination. However, my desire to write is fueled by the desire to be like some of my relatives. My grandmother on my mother's side was a published writer as are my aunt and her daughter (also on my mother's side). But of these, the most influential one is my dad. he is, thus far, unpublished, however of the various writings that I have perused, my father's are by far some of my favorite. That is not said out of any sense of devotion (although there is some there) , but out of a genuine sense of a reader wanting to see where this story will take him next.

     Now you may be wondering what I got from my mom. Besides the ability to make new friends Very easily, is the ability to tell stories. You see, my mom is a professional story teller. And a great one at that. Ever since I was a child, my mom would tell us stories or read to us. On road trips or to put us to sleep. Sometimes Family Home Evening would consist of a story with some moral that would tie in to the lesson.


     My mom has the ability to catch one's attention with her voice. Using just the right amount of whisper to get you to lean close. A dash of wonder to keep you excited. Maybe a pinch of a raised voice to get you to jump. All of which mixed into a wonderful tale that would keep you wanting to know more. The imagery allowing you to see the stories vividly taking place as you lost track of the fact that you were speeding along towards some destination and that it would be hours before you arrived.

      My loving parents also gave me something that I truly value above everything else they have given me. And that, is unconditional love. No matter the mistakes I've made, the times I've punched my brothers, been sarcastic and rude to someone, or even talked back to them, I have never felt like they have judged me.

    So 31 years of love, care, guidance as well as discipline, hard times and easy times. And of those only once have they ever argued. That's impressive. For these points, and many more which cannot be listed due to length, I feel like I have received the Holiest of Grails. The pearl of great price. The most wonderful parents any child could deserve. Ones who truly know what it means to love. To cherish. To honor. They are the shining example of what I could be and have. My guiding star. My Polaris.

     Thanks Mom and Dad for all this and many more. To you two, I wish Happy Anniversary. And my many more follow. I love you both.

Oh Father, My Father... My Hero

 




   Ah Father's Day. A day to remember and celebrate those men who are examples for us. Whether a shining example of how and what we should be or an example of that which we should not aspire to.

Luckily for me, I have the former.

   My dad is amazing. He was constantly there for myself and my siblings. Even when at work he would call to check on the family. Mostly, I think, to assure himself that we were safe and to talk to his sweetheart (my also very loving and amazing mother).
 
However, for me, as a young boy growing up, it was a knowledge that he cared for me. I knew my dad was a phone call away if I ever needed to discuss things with him. Any problem. Any time. It's the reason that a few years ago I got him a sign to hang over his desk that reads: "Dad's Office: Open 24 hours."
  Even now that he's retired, he still checks up on me. I can be at work at 4 in the morning and when he gets up to check and make sure the house is safe, I'll get a text asking how my day is.
 

   My dad's wonderful example is something I truly wish to aspire to. To put it succinctly, one day I'm going to grow up and be the same as my dad. I will be a better man thanks to him. He taught me for years and continues to do so. He teaches by example. Showing me daily how I should act in private or public to how I should treat the fairer sex (for the record he treats my mother like a queen. To this day I have only ever seen them argue once. Seriously, once. I have never before seen them argue, fight or demean each other in any form or way nor have I seen any of these since that minor disagreement. They don't always agree, but they never argue.). He shows me how to protect my family, willing to kill and be killed for our safety.

   From a small child, sitting in the shade of the house on a cold Saturday morning helping my dad work on cars by getting him various tools to helping build an add on to our house to now having him hand me the tools as I work on the cars, my dad has always been there. For that I am lucky. and extremely grateful. I would not, could not, be the man I am today without the loving example and teacher that I am privileged and proud to call Dad.

   Dad, thank you so much for everything you have done and everything you do. for being encouraging as I grew. helping me nurture my talents. I wouldn't be such an avid reader or have a love of writing if it weren't for you. I took them up mostly because you did these things. And I grew to love them. My music may not be the same through and through, but I still have the roots. The classics in my eyes will never die. They will always remind me of various things, like The Moody Blues represents road trips. I believe that very few men on earth have been as great as you. To me you are the embodiment of what a man, a father should be. You are my hero and you always will be. Thank you so much. I love you.

Guns Guns Guns...

 This is an AR-15. A semi-automatic rifle currently set for hunting or long distance plinking.

      So I figured with the furor over guns still going on I might as well stop avoiding the inevitable and inflict my opinion on the world. Or at least the seven of you who happen to come across this whilst seeking far better entertainment.

        So. Guns. I should mention before we begin that I will hereafter refer to "high-capacity magazines" as magazines that hold more than a standard amount. (Standard amount being the amount that the manufacturer uses. For example, a standard mag for a Colt 1911 is 8. Meanwhile, a standard mag for an Heckler & Koch USP .45 is 12. And a Glock 17 in 9mm is 17 rounds.) Also, "Assault weapons" or "Assault rifles" will be called "Assault-style rifle/weapon." Or Carbine. Or rifle. Cause I mean, come on, there's not much you can do besides leave this page if you disagree.

       My stance on guns, is the standard Weaver stance. ... Oops, sorry. I mean. I'm against the restriction of firearms. (Oh, I forgot to mention that one too. They'll also be called firearms.) It is true that violence begets violence. That being said, in the case of guns, most of the time it ends the violence as well. If violence does happen, it can stop it in it's tracks. Another point on the side of guns, is that it can prevent violence altogether. There have been times where a person merely reaching for a firearm has stopped a would be criminal in their tracks.

      The government has no right to try to take or limit my ability to protect myself, my family, or any others in harms way. I know that they claim that they're not trying to take our guns, but limiting magazine sizes restrict my safety. Who are you to say how many chances I get to try to defend myself? Recently in New York they placed a restriction on the magazine capacity of AR-15's to seven. So what happens if a junkie looking for money for a fix kicks in the door to my apartment. There have been cases where police officers have emptied one magazine and most of another into someone like this in order to stop them. Most officer carry around 50 rounds on their person. In a case like this they just expunged over half of that. Seven is not enough.

        Now that does not mean that every gun needs 30 rounds. The Beretta Model 92 has 16 rounds standard, but you can purchase a high-capacity magazine containing 30 rounds. Now is that even practical for personal carry? No. But how about home defense? Sure. You leave that mag at home in your safe. If and when the baddies come a knockin' you can answer with 30 good reasons for them to stay away.

My Heckler and Koch USP .40

                                                     

       My H&K carries 13 rounds per mag. So I carry 2 mags. Carrying plain FMJ rounds this still might not be enough. For you see, FMJ (Full Metal Jacket) is designed as a target load. Being encased in a metal shell, the round would pass through someone doing less damage. Now for you people who say this is more "humane" I'll answer with one word. Wrong. Yep, you read that right. W-R-O-N-G, Wrong. Yes it does less damage, but it passes clean through. (Let's talk physics. Physics physics physics physics physics.) With out stopping (unless you hit bone or are far enough away for it to lose enough velocity) the transfer of energy is often not powerful enough to stop someone. Especially not if they're high or their adrenaline is coursing through them.
        Since this is the case I carry Federal Hydra-Shok. These are rounds that are designed to mushroom (expand) causing the bullet to transfer it's energy into the person. (They're also the rounds some law enforcement agencies carry for that exact reason.) Yes it does more damage, but it is more likely to stop a would be assailant in his tracks. These rounds are also designed to stop more, and kill less, which is of use to me. It's my guiding star.

It should be obvious, but to those bugwits out there, the two with the brass casing are Full Metal Jacket. The other two are Hydra-Shok.

        Now if I were limited to 8 rounds, my ability to defend myself would be greatly lessened. There's a reason I wouldn't carry a 1911 as a sidearm. Owning one is a different matter.



       Now to address those who say "Why do you need a... (insert gun, AR-15, "Assault rifle," whatever.) First, who says need has anything to do with it? Who says we need something to be able to own it? Do you need a car? There's public transportation. There are cabs. How about an mp3 player? You don't need it. You can live without one. So we'll throw the word need out the window. Defenestrate that word! How about the "Besides hunting..." argument that Piers Morgan likes to use? Now you're putting limits on my reasons. Besides transportation, why do you need a car? Whatever my reason, don't try to limit my responses by excluding one of the main points.