First drill for 2008...

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOD MORNING!!! This is my first drill for the season, but I have to apologize. There is NO sound. I used Camstasia Studio 4 to record my screen, and coded this as a Quicktime movie and then saved it to my computer. There is an option in CS4 that says "Do you want to record the sound that's coming from your computer?" I of course do, because when I animate drill using my Pyware 3D Java 3.1.1, I synch it up to .wav or .mp3 or MIDI files. For whatever reason, it didn't code the sound, even though during the processing period the software specifically stated it was "Compressing Audio Now". Rat bastard software. ANYWAY, just pretend you can hear music. And if you're "in the know" to current marching band music, this drill was written to John Meehan's "The Garden" opener, which is called "Anthill". Yeah--that would be same music I wrote for a certain band last year that took 2nd place in the state but fired me anyway.

Ahhhh...life of a drill designer. Whadda ya know, hanh? Anyway--I've come to realize (in all honesty--and no, I'm not mad!!!) that out of EVERYTHING that goes into the creation of a field show for either drum corps or marching band, the DRILL DESIGN is THE SINGLE MOST SUBJECTIVE ELEMENT. Bar none. You can have rifles spinning rifles up their noses, drummers with drum sticks embedded in their foreheads, and music written to sound like the Jordanian Army Band (which I saw perform many moons ago, and I believe I'm still traumatized by what I heard), and yet, the DRILL has to be "perfect". And PERFECT is defined about as differently as I've ever seen a word defined. Beauty, in the case of drill design, is DEFINITELY in the eye of the beholder. The drill designer's job is to figure out, sometimes through psychic intervention, what "beauty" means to the people that hire you.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HA!!!

Got ya. THAT is the secret. ANYWAY, you may not like what I wrote when you watch it, or you may think it's the best thing since sliced bread. What's important though--is that I as the "artist" or designer or whatever you want to call me (dot writer) likes it.

A lot.

In case you were curious...

That story from my 911 career was written in a moment of clarity I had yesterday while in an email "conversation" with a very good friend of mine who is also in the 911 industry. We both have our battle scars over the years, and I was wanting to relay that story to prove a point--sort of. In any event, after I emailed my friend, I thought it would be cool to throw it up on my blog. I talk so much about drum corps, marching band, and other silly things up on this thing that I thought it would be good balance to at least show--once in awhile--that I actually do have a "serious job" and have been doing it for a good many years. That's all.

And yeah, that day royally sucked for me. And as you can see, it still is and always will be that wound inside that will probably never COMPLETELY heal. But, suffice it to say, we all have those wounds in our history--be it in your career, personal life, love life, whatever--and all it does is make us stronger. Hopefully, that is.

Now, some day I'll tell you about the man who called me on New Year's Eve with a bleeding penis...and what exactly an iguana had to do with it (and no, this has nothing to do with the Madison Scouts...if you don't know what the hell THAT meant, I guess you better read back in my blog, hanh?)

Ciao for now!

A little story from my 911 side of life--sort of sad

When Sarah was just turning 2, I was still a dispatcher, and we were working in our other dispatch center in the city of Orange. It was a Saturday as I recall, and I was working a position just doing my normal deal. So this had to be back in 2003. I actually think it was in April if I'm not mistaken. Anyway, I got a 911 call from a hysterical mother of a 2 year old girl who she had just pulled from the bottom of their pool. In 911 school, you learn about the term "refreaking", which is where the caller is freaking out, you calm them down (sometimes very forcibly) and get them to do something, and they calm down and do whatever you need them to do, but then they realize "OH MY GOD!!!" and get hysterical again. Unfortunately, while I was attempting CPR on this girl with the mom over the phone, she kept refreaking. A LOT! It was very frustrating. But then it got sad.

Outside of the fact that the despair in the voice of the mom was eating away at my gruff exterior, the response time of units was exceptionally long. This call was taking place in Villa Park, and our Villa Park medic engine was already on a call. We had to mutual aid a paramedic unit from Orange City Fire, but he was responding from out of his roll area. And we had an extended ETA on the ambulance, even though it was rolling Code 3. There was nothing I could do about that other than keep working with the mom. I believe the call lasted about 7 minutes, which for 911 calls, is VERY VERY long, but for me, was forever. And as I was working with the mom, trying to keep her AND MYSELF cool, the fact that the little girl wasn't responding in anyway was a bad sign. She needed ALS, not just CPR. She needed to be shocked, she needed oxygen, she needed someone better at 911 calls than me--well, at least that's what I thought after the call.

Because it was once everyone pulled on scene, seemingly all at once fire engines, medic vans, ambulances and cop cars screeching to a halt in front of the house (I heard it in the background) that I had to go step outside. It was the first time in my 911 career that a call literally got to me in such a profound manner that made me have to take a minute for myself. I went outside to take a walk, and all I could do was think about Sarah. And all I could do, as any public safety employee with a conscience could do, was wonder how I could have done my job better because obviously HAD I done it better, the little girl would have responded and would be awake and talking. It didn't matter that statistics are horrific for situations like this, indicating that a positive outcome was near to impossible. It didn't matter that all the dispatchers in the room clapped for me and said "good job dude" or "Ryan, that was freakin' awesome...you did great." No, it only mattered that I had to beat myself up because I sucked at that 911 call and I just didn't do whatever needed to be done. Though I was shedding some tears of frustration out in the parking lot that afternoon, I really missed Sarah a bunch at that moment. So, Nyleen ended up coming down a half hour later with Sarah and I was able to hang outside with them and just chill. Good medicine to hold your 2 year old princess after a horrific call like that.

Turns out the medics that got on scene did what they call a "scoop and run". No time for ALS treatment on scene--get the kid in the ambulance and get her down to the hospital. But it didn't matter. I found out 2 hours later the little girl didn't make it. This call made a mark on me because I choked up AGAIN just typing that sentence. I guess in public safety, we all have these stories--the near death experiences for a cop, the rescue that wasn't in time for a firefighter, the life of a child that slips away for the paramedic. There's also the calls for the 911 dispatcher that hit home and get remembered and create in oneself a sort of sore, something that gets a scab over it but it doesn't take a lot sometimes to knock off the scab. Anyway, it's a fact of life in 911, or in public safety in general, that you can't save everyone. It doesn't matter how much you want to save someone. It doesn't matter if that person deserves to be saved. It doesn't matter the age. It doesn't matter your will, your training, or your ability. Sometimes, people die.

And yeah, sometimes, they're 2 year old girls.

I guess what makes this story worse is that it didn't have to happen. I found later that the family of 4 had come home after shopping. They had bags of groceries to bring in. They pulled into their drive way and unloaded the kids. One went one way. The other went another. Parents were busy loading groceries and as I've been in this situation a hundred times if not a thousand in my own life, they paid "no never mind" to kids running around. You become immune to that "noise" after awhile. Apparently, there was no more noise after awhile that sounded the alarms got the red flags waving, and the mom went to look for the girl. Asking the husband where the little girl was, she realized something was horribly wrong when the husband said "I thought she was with you." The little girl had gone through the house, out the back door, and straight to the pool, through the unlocked gate. Sad...so sad. It didn't have to happen like that, this senseless death, but it did.

You can't save everybody. You can only do your best.

So there you go--I love swimming, I love going to the pool with my kids at my park--heck, I thought I was part fish when I was kid as I grew up swimming at pools. But to HAVE a pool...I don't know. If I ever buy a house, I probably won't get one with a pool because I'll never forget this story.

You NEVER know...

When you start receiving text messages from people saying that think your blog is funny, is it safe to say "I HAVE ARRIVED?"

NO???

Great. Still trying to be a great drill writer some day, and apparently, still trying to be a great blog writer.

When will my ship EVER come in!?!?!?!?!?

This past weekend...and other things

Argh!!! I just realized that my blog is now being treated like a "newsfeed" to my Plaxo network, and so all of those people are reading my most intimate and secret thoughts.

:- /

YEAH WHATEVER TURNER!!!

Hi Plaxo People. Whatever the hell Plaxo is! And when the hell did I sign up for Plaxo!?!?!? I thought I was with Linked In and Facebook and Myspace and and and and...face it. It's all my desperate attempt to get attention--RIGHT RON!?!?!?! (inside joke hidden in an insult hidden in self-deprecation...which is better than self-crapatation, which means I'm pooping on myself).

Speaking of pooping on myself, I need to post the video of Triumph the Insult Dog talking to the geeks in line for Star Wars. Truly a great moment in comedy history.

Speaking of comedy, if you haven't watched Last Comic Standing, you're missing a pretty hip show. I watched it last week after not watching it for awhile. Reality TV game show thing where comics compete and vote each other off. I know--real "lofty" television for me, but it takes my mind off the hell that is my life. Anyway--God's Pottery, the duo comedy team that BUSTED ME UP BIG TIME got freakin' BOOTED. And that non-funny Korean chick is STILL ON THE SHOW!!! I freakin' HATE reality TV...and here I am, TOTALLY absorbed by this crapheap. WTF is wrong with me? Hello, Psychologists-'R-Us, yes, do you have any openings today?

Speaking of today, had a nice lunch with a friend from work that marched in the Villa Park HS Spartan Brigade Marching Yahoo's back in the early 70's at the same time my goofball brother was marching at Pasadena High School. He remembers PHS from back then, but he admits, he remembers little because of all the...uh...well...uh...because of the...well, you know. IT WAS 70's for God's sakes...

Speaking of God, why does He hate me so much? He doesn't? Oh good. That's great. Just fantastic. I feel better already.

Speaking of dreaming--the So Cal Dream All-Age Drum and Bugle Corps out of....hell, I STILL don't know what city they're from...scored about 3 millimeters lower than the highly vaulted and talented and touted San Francisco Renegades in a local contest this past season. I was very happy for my former corps that I used to write for who apparently don't miss me at all and wonder "RYAN WHO?" Anyway...I was really happy for them. They've come a long way baby, apparently with better drill now! DOH!!!

Speaking of drill, I came home last night after doing a 12-hour shift at the Southern Operations Command Center in Riverside, California where I assisted USFS and Cal Fire coordinating manpower. YES YES YES--I know, I work for Orange County Fire. But there's this thing called "mutual aid" I described in an earlier post that allows for experts (NOT SAYING I'M ONE) in particular areas of fire management to go out to incidents or other command centers and help. I went as what they refer to as an Expanded Dispatch Dispatcher Dispatching Dispatches...or something. Anyway THE POINT BEING...I came home and turned on my Pyware and attempted to do some more pages for my big band back in Illinois that I'm writing for and realized my head was so far up my ass I could smell my own breath, and that any attempts at creativity were being met with some of the stupidest drill move animations that have ever been seen at anytime in the history of mankind. I thankfully went to bed, only to be woken up at 3am by some woman in my bed freaking out from a bad dream. Gee--that's never happened before in 14 years of marriage.

Speaking of bed...have you ever fallen asleep because you're so tired but you wake up not realizing you actually fell asleep and you sort of look around and wonder just what the hell happened? I do that at night. I like to read before I go to sleep. Actually, I LOVE TO READ BEFORE I GO TO SLEEP. I'm reading "2012" by Whitley Streiber about anal probing aliens from another dimension that can rip your soul out of your body and DESTROY IT. That sucks. Anyway...I usually fall asleep...actually, more like freakin' passing out...and then coming to like 10 minutes later with the book still perfectly balanced between my fingers propped up on my chest. Bottom line--it freaks me the hell out.

Speaking of hell, hell is working with someone from Mississippi for 12 hours straight who has a hearing impediment and says, "Hunnnnh? What'd ya say?" approximately 390 times...an HOUR!!

Speaking of hour...I've stayed my hour. I'm leaving now. More to come soon. Check back often. Your mileage may vary. And please, can I give you one bit of wise advice? I CAN? I shall.

NEVER EVER EVER EVER TRUST A SMILING DONUT.

Never.

Be good.

Oh dear Lonestar--how I loved thee...

Hey everyone--LIKE THERE'S REALLY AN EVERYONE!!!--about 20 years ago or so, I made up in mind that if I were to get great service or a great product, that I would be quick to compliment that service or product. I've kept true to my word over the years, and praise liberally. Let's face it--I like to go to restaurants, movies, amusement parks, etc, etc. Well, with this "praise liberally" approach, I also feel very justified to speak up--and not rudely or irrationally--and let people or companies know when service or products are NOT satisfactory. Thankfully, that doesn't happen too often. But today at lunch with my friends from work...well...just read the following "complaint" that I lodged with Lonestar Restaurants corporate office...tell me what you think...and realize as a customer, you have EVERY right to expect reasonably good service and product WHEREVER you go:

This is a complaint, and I would like to have some follow-up on this. On the above date and at the listed time, I along with 6 co-workers made our once-a-week lunch run to Lone Star. And to be honest, it may be our last time there. While the service itself was great by our server (sorry--didn't get a name), I can't say the same for the quality of the food. Three of the burgers that were brought to the table were incorrect, two of which were sent back because of the egregious nature of the problem, and the third was not although it was wrong. The initial issue with one of the burgers was that it was ordered medium rare. It came back CLEARLY not cooked properly, as it appeared that there was RAW MEAT on the bottom of the patty, and quite a lot of it. The customer who ordered it was VERY unhappy with it. The 2nd burger was ordered medium, yet it came back very pink, but clearly NOT medium. The third burger was the same condition as the 2nd, however, that customer opted to eat it as he wasn't as bothered by it.

Here's where I have a problem, and it's two-fold. It took at LEAST 12 minutes for the two burgers to be returned, and when they WERE returned, one of them was STILL not correct (it was ordered DRY--no lettuce, tomato, onions, pickles, or sauce--yet it had all of it on the burger). The two customers were not able to ever eat their food IN THE RESTAURANT as they planned because of the delay in the re-issue. Secondly, and this is TRULY unbelievable, the manager found it necessary to actually get snippy and defend the "medium rare" burger as if to say that no, we as the customer were wrong. Did I miss something some where along the way that says the CUSTOMER IS WRONG?!?!? Your manager obviously needs to go back to manager school and understand the concept of MAKING THE CUSTOMER HAPPY and apologizing for the error the cook made. That was strike #1. But as I sat there and watched my two friends and co-workers load their burgers into a take home box, and then looked at the 60+ dollar tab, I could not fathom why at the VERY LEAST we were not comped for two meals. Those two guys didn't get their food correctly nor in a timely manner, AND we were treated rudely by a manager.

And this might be of interest to you. In celebration of an event in one of our lives, next week, there was going to be 8 of us coming in for a celebration lunch. We had it planned that Lonestar was the place. We have now switched our plans and Red Robin will be getting our business.

In this day and age of a crappy economy, rising food prices, and corporate earnings dropping (and I'm WELL AWARE of Lonestar's issues in the restaurant business), you would be well-advised to inform your staff members--dare I say, NATIONWIDE--to wise up and do all they can to retain customers. Because the 7 of us that won't be returning any time soon will be sure to be speaking to a great many OTHER people, and you know what they say about bad news.

I sure hope to hear from someone. And no, I didn't just type all of this for a free meal. I expect some training to occur for your employees (specifically the manager of your Tustin restaurant) so that you stand a chance to not tick off anymore regular customers.

So how'd I do???

Now on to something MORE SERIOUS!!!

OK...this is FREAKIN' FUNNY...especially if you're a dad...I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS VIDEO...and in case you're a hand-wringing worry wort, no kids were hurt in the making of this most awesome video. Well...at least they weren't PHYSICALLY hurt, although I think their pride took a beating...LITERALLY...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AqrnLrn25qc

Sorry...

Been kind of quiet as of late. That last post from back on June 12 generated some interesting emails and Facebook contacts. Got in contact with a couple of old friends from way back who happened to know who I was talking about. Pretty cool.

Well--good news. M had her surgery and it was pretty successful. She's in great hands with some of the best doctors in the world that deal with exactly what she has. Suprisingly, she's getting some very optimistic prognosises from them. I say suprisingly because I made the mistake of looking on the internet for more information on this situation, and was none too pleased with what I was reading. I'm relieved to say the least that she's doing ok. Her husband has sent out some "mass emails" to lots of folks and so I'm being updated. Good for M.

In my other life as a drill designer, this season has taken a dramatic trip down the shitter. Well, actually that's a little melodramatic. There are some changes, and I'm "only" writing for four bands this year. When I look at my Work History Profile that I created for my drill design/instruction side of my life, over the last 24 years there has been a certain "ebb and flow" in terms of how many clients I get every year. It's too be expected, especially considering I do absolutely NO advertising, no hustling, no flyers, no website...it's just word of mouth. If this was my primary income I'd be far far more serious and "involved" on the business end (marketing, selling, blah blah blah). But I've cultivated this part of my life as always having the potential to be big, but never really pursuing it. Mainly because I have a career already, so it's not like I need the money (although the extra income IS nice). I've done it because it's been a ton of fun to see what I write on a piece of paper (or now put on a computer screen) come to life on a football field.

Well, it's a combination of personal issues as well as just some of the frankly STUPID decisions and other related "issues" over the last year and half that have caused me to feel "the burn" start. And I ain't talking about the burn of excitement or passion...I'm talking the burn of being burned out. Like I said, I do take SOME ownership in this situation because I was promoted at the Fire Department last October and there's been a learning curve in that area of my life (and some success AND bitter disappointment), so I'm certainly acknowledging that. But it just kills me that last year--ohhhh, about April or so if I'm not mistaken--I was feeling on top of the world, and now, I'm bordering on a burn out. And I hate to sound corny or like a broken record, but I was very much inspired by someone whose blog I absolutely love (http://drumlaw80.blogspot.com/). Unless he's an absolute liar, this is a guy whose work ethic and tenacity just blows me away everytime I read about his exploits. And another motivator to me is my father and mother in law, two people who know the value of work and can juggle multiple projects at one time, and usually do...365 days a year. So to be burned out or getting there SUCKS AND BUGS ME TO NO END!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway, I was highly motivated by these examples as well as other more personal issues to get beyond my comfort zone and do more. And I did! I just had different results that rocked my world a bit. And now because of that and my burn out factor, my tolerance for B.S. has been lowered greatly. Rather than review the amount of B.S. I'm dealt with specifically in this area of my life, I'll just say you'll have to trust me in this regards--because it's a LOT to be frank.

What does it all mean? I don't know if it really "means" anything. There are people in my life with far more pressing issues (like one who is in an ICU right now recovering from brain surgery for God's sakes). Do I REALLY think my burn out and frustrations have any "meaning" when compared to brain surgery? No. I'm realistic. I know I'm bellyaching up the wrong tree. BUT...BUT...it is what it is (as a friend likes to say--right Thom?), and it sort of helps explain me...which sometimes, is beyond explanation. Or something.

In other news...

--Flew to Salt Lake City with family in tow for a wedding of one of Nyleen's 7 brothers. Yeah. SEVEN!!! (Are you reading this, Lee??) Anyway, he got married to some rich girl and blah blah blah. The trip itself had great potential to be a disaster, as I was traveling with a 7 year old girl who is just beginning to understand everything there is to understand about Hannah Montana, a 4 year old boy that is hooked on Squarebob Spongepants or whatever the hell is name is, and walks around singing Thomas the Train songs, a 4 MONTH old GIANT MAN BABY who has never flown before, and my perpetually motion-sick wife. Trip turned out nicer than I thought. Stayed in the basement of one of Nyleen's aunts. Visited with lots of family, did some partying (yeah...I WAS IN UTAH...there idea of a wild party is to throw green jello at each other), visited some cool places (like Provo Canyon--where if I was independently wealthy, wasn't married, didn't have kids, and hated marching band/drum corps, I would move to in a New York minute...AWESOME country back there). Oh...by the way...flew JetBlue for the first time. I will simply say this--I will NEVER fly another airline as long as I live if I have a chance to fly JetBlue.

--You've been reading I'm sure in the news about the wildfires from hell in northern California, right? At one point in time, there were 1400...FOURTEEN HUNDRED!!!...fires burning. Why should I care and how does that affect southern California? Simple. We have this thing called "mutual aid" in the fire service. So we (the OCFA where I work) have sent fire engines and manpower (called "overhead") to various locations to assist other agencies in northern California. Yes--it DOES impact us down here in southern California. Suprisingly--we've been spared down here from any fires. WHICH IS WEIRD. Reeeeeeeeeeeeeally weird. However...if I were you, I would move out of the state by October 1. That's when the Santa Ana Wind season starts. All bets are off at that point.

That's about it for now--just wanted to give a quick update. I've got nothing else.

Take care...and thanks for reading.

Curve ball...

I'm sitting here in a terminal in the distant land of Florida--Tampa to be exact. My plane which was supposed to leave a long time ago is not leaving for another long while. And so here I sit. I guess I could be really irritated. I could even get mad. Or sad. I have a wife and 3 kids at home that are patiently awaiting my arrival, which now looks like it may not be until tomorrow if this crappy mid-western weather carries on the way it is (which is where my plane currently sits--in Chicago). But as I've come to realize in my short 42 years of life that there is a choice that can be made, and I am choosing to chill out and not worry too much. And besides, being stuck in an international airport as beautiful as Tampa with a laptop and free wireless internet and a nice ice cream store nearby makes me wonder really, what in the hell do I have to worry about?

Nothing.

But I guess what's even worse for me is this feeling that has come over me in the last few minutes. And the timing of why this sadness has come into my life is even more curious, because of my last posting (read the one below this one so you can get a handle on my mind set). The only way my puny human intellect can wrap its arms around things is by giving the awfully immature summary of "I must be going through a test of what I just posted."

What am I talking about?

Well, I was sitting here in the airport, watching people going by, looking at my stupid meaningless Facebook account, trading insults and jokes via text message with my wife, answering some work emails from my fire department friends...in a nutshell, minding my own business. And up pops an email which is actually a text message from a cell phone number I don't recognize. And the message...well...it made me stop for a second and take a deep breath for sure. By the look of what was typed, something was wrong. Let me do a little historical trip for a minute before I go on....and you'll have to excuse me. This posting is as therapeutic for me as it may be completely too much info for you. I apologize. You may understand in a bit more.

When I was in high school, specifically my senior year, and with all the VAST experience I had had with girls up to this point (I'm being sarcastic...I dated a clarinet player for approximately 14 minutes, and dated a friend from my neighborhood for about 2 months before her dad decided I wasn't good enough and CERTAINLY not Christian enough), I fell head over heels for yet ANOTHER flute player in band. Out of respect for her privacy, I'm going to not publish her name. I think she'd appreciate that since apparently I have 24.5 million people reading my words at any one moment (I KID--which is strange, I really shouldn't be kidding right now). Anyway, "M" and I had what could be described as a great relationship that ran the gamut of teenage angst and drama and love and hurt and jealousy and "end of the world"-isms. I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. But it was a tumultuous time where in the end our lives quietly went seperate directions--she into the working corporate world, and me...I don't know. Where the hell did I go anyway? Well, I ended up at the fire department which is sort of a defining moment for me because a LOT of things happened right around the time. My dear mother died, I got hired with the OCFA and started my career, and I met my wife.

But over the years M and I stayed in contact somehow. I don't remember exactly how I was able to track her down by email several years ago but I did or maybe she did. I can't remember. But we've stayed in contact, updating each other on the happenings in our lives. I've always found it strangely comforting to be able to have that one link in M to my past. In any event, it turned out she had been working in the next city over from where I had been living, and that's where she met her husband and blah blah blah.

Fast forwarding to today--Tampa, me, a laptop, free internet...life is good. And an email popped up from M's sister, a person who I truly had not talked to for probably 20 years. It simply said, "This is M's sister. Call me immediately." Something was wrong. I'm too much of a public safety professional to look at an email like that and think "Oh she's probably wanting to invite me to a baseball game". Something was wrong. And the timing made sense too. You see, when I got to Tampa, I emailed M to say hi and "check in", something we seem to do every so often via email. And M always answers me within 12 hours or so, and when she hadn't I thought that she and her family were probably out vacationing or whatever...I mean, there's a million reasons why someone doesn't email you back right away. Computers break, plans change, things happen, life is what it is. I wasn't worried at all, but I filed her non response away as something that I was going to get to later when I returned to a NORMAL state....like CALIFORNIA!!! Don't get me started...

But...something was wrong now.

I immediately called the number, and to my surprise, M answered the phone. And the news wasn't good. She had had a seizure on Friday night, and had been in the hospital since then, and was diagnosed with a brain tumor.

I was dumbfounded. I'm sitting in an airport terminal, with crappy phone reception, hearing the former love of my life and someone who I had "dreamed" with about what it would be like to be married some day to her and she who would tease me ENDLESSLY that if we DID get married that I would be FORCED to dance at our reception...here she was telling me that she had a brain tumor. After 14 years of marriage and 3 kids, I've learned a great deal about being compassionate and loving and helpful and the like, but I still get tongue-tied when faced with something so...well, I'm not one to be delicate...but something so devastating. I still have problems saying "I'm so sorry" because I feel like there's so much more I need to say...or do...or fix...I'm a man. Give me a hammer and a screwdriver, some duct tape, and wam bam thank you mam I'll take care of that tumor for you.

But I couldn't. And I uh uh uh uh...great. You haven't talked to M in 20 years, and here you sound like a freakin' ape on the phone with her. What could I do? What could I say? I told her I was so sorry. I told her to "keep me in the loop". WTF, TURNER?!?!?! LOOP!?!?!?! She has a tumor in the brain, and here I am talking fire department talk to her. LOOP!?!?! Great. Size 11 in my mouth--someone call the Foot Removal Squad.

I AM so sorry. I am TERRIBLY TERRIBLY concerned. I strangely want to drop what I'm doing and DO SOMETHING--even though I have my own wife and children and family and she has hers. Strange. But I just didn't know what to do. Her sister got on the phone with me, and we talked. Instead of doing this with M, I instead told her sister (as if I'm an expert...but I certainly can SOUND like one I guess) that medical technology is SO advanced and I know two people that have bounced back from brain surgery and to not worry and to be strong...words for M. Not her sister. But maybe for her sister too.

And I think about what I typed below about prayer and about prayers being answered. And I know that life SUCKS SUCKS SUCKS when things like this happen and you want to just scream at the top of your lungs WHY WHY WHY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!????? God knows I have screamed that--LITERALLY--in my lifetime. WHY!?!?!?!?

But therein is the secret to trying to wrap our brains around things like this. Choices. You decide what you want to do with what's handed to you. And then you take each day as it goes. I have a friend from church who is the most amazing man on the planet. He has the WORST FORM OF LEUKEMIA right now...THE worst. Reading his story on CaringBridge and seeing how he's handled things is a DIRECT and TANGIBLE testament to me that you CHOOSE your roads...your reactions...and actions...and you do the best. Or you don't and you curl up and you die. My friend, who is only a couple of years older than me, should be dead now. He's not. Through aggressive medical technology, treatment, INSISTENT and PERSISTENT desire to get the VERY VERY best, and not to mention, his unbelievable attitude and will and desire to be the best example of his religion he could be, he's almost totally beat this. It's not a joke--10 years ago, he would have been dead a long time ago. My other friend from church, 55 year old woman, THE GREATEST example of the "perfect" grandma, happy, positive, loving...started feeling dizzy one day. Went in, got checked out, and she had a tumor in her brain, and it was in a really really bad area. But with medical technology and aggressive treatment and her positive outlook and I would think TENS OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE (and I'm not being melodramatic) praying for her and just supporting her with emails and thoughts, she came out of her brain surgery with a little hearing loss and a bit of vertigo. But she's alive!!! She's happy!!! She's grateful!!!

I don't know if M will ever read this--nor do I know what's going to happen with her. All I know is that I'm being challenged right now to put my money where my mouth is. I need to also step up to the plate and not give any lip service to the concept of prayer, but to be active in it and do my best to do what I CAN do as a friend from long ago.

I told her to "hang in there"...I hope she knows that without me being "in the way" and certainly not trying to take the place of the husband she already has, that I will be "with her", if anything, in spirit.

Hang in there, M.

Tampa and beyond...

Don't know if anyone is bothering to read this lame blog anymore, but I thought I would check in. I am typing to you from my hotel room in downtown Tampa, Florida, where it's been hot and muggy with some very spectacular thunderstorms in the late afternoon. I'm down here part of the National Emergency Number Association, a professional association of 911 industry professionals, the like of what I AM apparently. Anyway, been here doing classes and talking to vendors and having a blast networking and learning some new ideas that I can DEFINITELY use at the old OCFA. Speaking of which, check out that video in the next post down of me in a Public Service Announcement (PSA) back in 2001. My hair was actually ALL BROWN!!! What a concept!!!

I don't talk much about my personal faith on this blog, because it's personal, and the topic of religion and sprituality and all that usually turns people off. Based on who's talked to me about my blog over the last couple of years, it would be fair to say that some of you don't have any feelings in particular or are in some ways not believing in any kind of spirituality at all or certainly not of God in the traditional sense. Well, forgive me for broaching the subject, but I do believe in God and have for a long time. I don't pound people over their heads with it, I don't preach, I don't lay down vast judgements against people that don't believe like I do, and I certainly don't like to be treated any other way than how I believe I do treat people in regard to religion and faith and belief. Like I said, it's personal. And one's behavior is usually called into question when they wear their religious beliefs on their sleeves, making it easy to be the focus of illogical leaps of reason that cause people to say "Well, look at HIM, he's acting like an idiot, so all _________________ (insert name of religion) adherents must be that way!" That's where I stand with it. You either believe in God, you believe in SOMETHING out there but don't know what it is, or you don't and think it's all silly.

Fine.

Back to my beliefs. For those that think it's all silly, it would be very easy to argue that if I spend anytime praying that it's akin to me talking to myself. Or to a wall. But I do pray. Not often enough, but as of the last few months, moreso than I have say the several months before that. There are many things in my life that I won't go into great detail about that I believe need "divine help". I believe one of those prayers was answered just in the same style that God always seems to answer my prayers--very quietly, very subtley, and by using people.

I had the good fortune to run into a man who is a manager of communications center in the fine and beautiful state of Washington. He was in one of my classes this past weekend, and considering my normally outspoken, opinionated, loud, and sometimes humorous M.O., he gravitated towards me probably out of sheer curiousity as to what the hell was my problem (I'm being overly dramatic--he was actually in my small group as we tackled a problem as an exercise in this class). In any event, I ended up making friends with this very very funny and quite well spoken man who was here with one of his dispatchers from his agency, who I too met. We all seemed to hit it off, and I joined them for lunch and then later for dinner, and it was just typical convention/industry-related banter and humor (because I can't go anywhere and be serious).

As it turns out, we spent a lot of "off" time from the convention just hanging out, and truth be told considering I also like to be a loner (which is really a dichotomy--I'm the freakin' life of a party and can sustain vast amounts of "attention" by virtue of some of positions in life, but I need to be ALONE...weird...Hello, Dr. Freud???), it was actually nice to have someone to talk to considering I'm seperated by approximately 2500 miles from the four most important people in my life. And during our times together eating lunch or taking a walk after class or whatever (we actually went and saw Iron Man on Monday night if I'm not mistaken), these two guys would subtlely but plainly make it clear to me that they were Christian. They didn't cuss, they both talked glowingly about their wives and kids, and talked about other things using the word "faith" and "blessings" and "God's hand". So I knew that they both were different, in a good way though. Again--I keep mum about my religion and don't talk much about it to anyone unless someone is to ask, and then I'm more than willing to ramble on about it. But I've learned and matured and keep my comments to myself unless I'm asked.

IN ANY EVENT, this evening was our last night together. They both are going to a class tomorrow and I'm getting on a plane and heading home. They called me at about 8pm tonight, and left a message for me on my cell saying they were going to a pizza joint in the neighborhood of our hotel, and to come meet them if I wanted. I had eaten dinner earlier by myself and had gone for a 3 mile walk/job (because I'm a fat ass and I hate myself because of it--but that's another story!!!!), and so I wasn't really wanting to go out. I was more comfortable just watching TV and being quiet--the loner raises it's ugly head again. But something motivated me. Don't know what. Actually, I don't want to admit what it was that motivated me because I'll be thought of as a loon. But I think I was being given a very quiet and personal "nudge". I'll leave it at that.

So I put on a fresh set of clothes and headed out to the pizza place--a total dive with the biggest freakin' calzones I've EVER SEEN!!! They should be classified as small vehicles. They are HUGE. I wasn't hungry but I just sat and we talked and laughed and talked to a bum and talked and laughed...guy stuff. Normal. But these two were sharing ideas with me as they had been doing all week about things management-wise in the 911 industry that was very much appreciated and NEEDED by me.

But that's not the answer to the prayer.

The answer to the prayer came later, when we had sauntered back over to our hotel and sat in the lounge with our styrofoam cups of ice and old soda from the pizza place. And we talked about marriage and the importance of family and many other things that, well, to be honest, guys don't normally talk about. The American model of guyhoodedness would have us sitting there with beers, yapping endlessly about sports, or oogling at women walking by, or how much of a bitch our wives were. We weren't. And with great respect to a great group of guys that I DO hang around with at lunch sometimes back at work, it was refreshing for once. Here were two guys that honored their wives. Unheard of. And they honored NOT because they went on and on and on about how wonderful they were--it was by what they were NOT saying. They weren't bitching, they weren't whining...I mean, we ARE men and maybe a couple of funny humorous little things slipped out, but it was done in fun. And one of the guys recommended to me a book called "The Five Faces (or Languages) of Love" that supposedly is THE BEST BOOK TO HELP MARRIAGES GET STRONGER.

I need that book right now. Answer one.

Answer two came in the form of--now don't laugh--a rather deep discussion we were having about esteem and self-filters and who we really are and how people really see us. This post has already gone on long enough, so I'll try to wrap this up. But, what was said and how it was said was something I really needed to hear. I haven't heard what was said to me this evening before, and it got me realizing that, bottom line, I am quite horrible....to myself. Before anyone gets a chance to beat me up about anything, I'm usually already well underway, complete with boxing gloves and assorted tools, beating the crap out of myself. About what? WHATEVER. My shortcomings. My mistakes. My flaws. And the answer to a prayer came from someone who 5 days ago didn't know me from Adam.

I only share this not because you're going to fully understand or appreciate the gravity of what transpired tonight. I guess only I can actually "feel" that, and try as I might, the command of the English language doesn't guarantee that I would be able to convey that idea or feelings. But what I CAN convey....and I really really take a big chance typing this...but what I CAN convey, strongly, is that prayer works because there IS a God. There's nothing in the world I can do to make him love me anymore than he already does, and because he does, he does answer prayers. It was proven tonight to me--AGAIN--because I forgot recently. That's the end of my sermon. Appreciate you reading.

I am YOUR fire department...

Here's a public service announcement filmed back I believe just before 9-11...it played in all the theaters in O.C. as well as local cable.

Damn...just damn...

Today started sort of on a sour note...than, I got to work. Sour notes from last night still reverberating in my head, I got more sour notes at work. I've been called too caring...too liberal...too trusting...just don't know. I get the feeling I'm backwards sometimes.

Sucks to be me I guess.

Well...I'll hang in there.

Been awhile...but I'm sort of like the Timex Watch

....I can take a licking...but I keep on ticking.

Speaking of licking...HI!!! Let me attempt to kiss all of your butts as I check back in after an extended absence. As if anyone is reading...whatever...here's a rundown...

--Had another kid. Benjamin Wallace Turner. 2/23/08. There's a whole back story to this that involves him being so strong he kicked out of his own placenta a week before birth, hospitalizing my wife. And that's just the first sentence of the back story. So I'll keep it short. Now that we're what--3 months later?? He's fine. She's fine. I'm great.

--Been in my new position of Senior Supervisor and still getting to know my way around things, especially my own supervisor. After the world's worst (Ryan's world that is) eval after my first 6 months--an eval that will go down as probably the single most embarrassing chapter in my storied career of working--I'm starting to "get it". Note to everyone that promotes...quick way to success with a new boss. Make sure you know what he/she wants. Everytime he/she smiles and says "Good job" or "Thank you--that's what I needed" or "Perfect", do more of THAT, whatever caused those reactions. And don't be a hermit.

--Marching band is starting to rev up. It's May. VERY VERY VERY strange season coming up because California is having a budget crisis, and band directors left and right are getting pink slips. Probably why my phone hasn't rung yet. Probably other reasons too, like band directors not being professional and returning phone calls or emails. BUT HEY...I'm just a drill designer. The nature of the beast is to blame the drill designer for everything...and then don't call him to tell him. Typical. It's a love/hate thing I have with band directors. Main reason I didn't become one was because I'd end up either killing fellow band directors, killing administrators, killing parents, maybe even taking out a few kids, or killing myself. I definitely feel bad for directors that have to deal with that absolute SHITTIEST of conditions--conditions that I, as a member of a union, would NEVER EVER EVER tolerate. Ahhhhhhhh well...I'm babbling. Where was I? Drill design...oh yeah. We'll see what happens. I can guarandamntee you I will NEVER write for another drum corps as long as I live. THAT is for sure. I just can't do it. It ain't my cup of tea (exception is So Cal Dream--I actually miss them).

--To do DCI, or not. Well--here's the thing. This is like my millionth drum corps season being the "Voice of Southern California", and Pacific Crest already has snapped me up for the Walnut show in the last part of June. There were rumors abound based on how I did last year at Pasadena City College for Division II/III Championships that I would definitely be working again for DCI. No calls yet. I'm about to write that off.

--Stirred the pot on Drum Corps Planet after Madison Scouts announced their show, writing their show description that included basing their show on the "observations of an iguana" as it viewed the Latin culture. If not the DUMBEST show description I have ever heard, certainly the most pretentous bullshit for a drum corps show I have EVER heard. And from the MADISON SCOUTS of all corps. Just WTF are those people thinking? An iguana. Well, I said as much on DCP, and many people either worshipped me for calling it like it was, or regarded me as the has-been ex-VK drum major that I am. Whatever title I've been given, I could give a crap. I still think Madison's show description is stupid.

With a capital S.

--My family is fine. Thanks for asking. Sarah is 7. Michael Ryan is 4. Life is good.

--My wife's ENTIRE side of the family flew in a couple of weekends ago for Benjamin's baby blessing (sort of like a confirmation--but I did it myself), and a baptism of another kid in the family. My mother in law's 60th was also celebrated with 75 old friends--and this was all a surprise birthday party we put together.

It rocked.

She cried.

I win.

--I'm going to say it--but I ain't saying who. There are two people in my life that have in the last 48 hours confided to me some very personal issues, and while I like to play the goofy happy-go-lucky smart ass on TV, in reality, I'm very very very concerned and my heart is VERY heavy. It's a part of me many don't get to see, but it's the part that wants to fix things and make everyone happy. It's also the most sensitive part of my psyche, and if I CAN'T fix things, it REALLY REALLY hurts. Because I feel like I failed. So--for my two special people in my life--if you are reading this per chance, my brain is chewing on your issues and I swear to God I'm going to fix it. Somehow.

--I love the Internet. I love YouTube. I hate television anymore. What does it have that I can't get on the Internet. I forsee television become SECONDARY to the Internet in the most "watched" form of entertainment in about...oh...37 minutes.

Seriously. TV ain't got NOTHIN' on the Internet. I can spend the day on YouTube or Wikipedia and NEVER be bored, and always learning something, laughing at something, crying at something...whatever....

--Did you know that the Turner Empire got its very first color television...in 1984!!!! Yep. Was given to us by my computer programming teacher--Roberta Sterling (ohhhhhhhhhhhh Roberta...oh my)--FOR FREE, because I think she liked me.

--My daughter is singing Jack and Jill Went Up The Hill as I'm typing this. She's in bed, and singing to Michael to get the little crazy man to go to sleep. What a cutie.

THAT'S IT...there's probably more but I'm tired. Gotta be like a banana and split.

GET IT?!?!?!

See ya...

Ummmmmmmmmmmm...

Either this guy is the nerdiest freak I've ever seen....or....as I now think after watching the video, pretty freakin' cool.

Bummer news...

Since I keep tabs on the drum corps activity at both the junior and senior levels, I just found out the Seattle Cascades Drum and Bugle Corps is taking a year off from national touring and keeping it regional. Too bad. For a region (the Pacific NW) that isn't a huge epicenter of marching pageantry to lose such a great group (not TECHNICALLY losing, but if they're going to be a regional non-competitive corps, you can kiss the recruiting goodbye) is pretty hard.

Here's to the 'Scades (as they are called)...good luck and hopefully you'll pull a Troopers and come back stronger than ever.

OK OK OK...my LAST post for today...

I totally forgot about this clip from YOUTUBE. I got reintroduced to Mary Poppins because my daughter LOVED to watch it EVERY SINGLE FREAKIN' DAY when she was a toddler. The following clip certainly changes the whole meaning of the movie...holy cow!!!

My 100th Post!!! Let's celefreakingbrate!!

Hi there...second posting of the day because it just dawned on me (by way of a counter) that I am on my 100th post of this infernal blog that so many of you have come to like for some reason. WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU?!?!? I kid--I'm still tickled that people read this and approach me at the weirdest times to say they either agreed or disagreed or think I'm a raving lunatic. Whatever. In commeration of the 100th ranting, I thought maybe it would be nice to see a few pics. Let's start off with some doom and gloom...that's always fun...

This is a snap shot of Oceanside, California, the city just south of Camp Pendleton. About 20-30 minutes from Orange County (on a good day). This sort of proves part of the overall horror story that I'm trying to convey in terms of the world economy. Yeah...Oceanside is part of the world economy. More specifically--all of those red dots represents a family or person that is "under water" because of a pending or active foreclosure. This is NORTH SAN DIEGO FREAKIN' COUNTY. It's PARADISE. And they're feeling the effects of what will surely start to hit the last bastion of good economy...The O.C.

Well, here's something sort of cool. A few weeks ago, I gave the "Opening Speech" or whatever you want to call it to the Kingsmen Alumni Corps Banquet held in Fullerton. Had about 400 people there and I gave a 10 minute talk about my experience as the Official Voice of the Kingsmen during their nearly 2 year existence. It's a little hard to see, but I think if you click on the pic it'll get bigger (only if it was so easy at age 41...WAIT...did I just say that???). ANYWAY--in the pic is my fat mug on the left, to the right of me in the dark suit and mustache/beard is my long-time friend and brother in the business of show design, David G. Weinberg (http://www.omegadrilldesigns.com/). We go WAY WAY back. He's one of the principal people in my life that motivated me, mostly by example, to become a drill designer myself. Nowhere near as good, but hey, I keep striving. The black gentlemen in the center of the pic is the former drum major of the Freelancers Drum and Bugle Corps from Sacramento. He was drum major from 1981-1984, and definitely a MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR influence in my life, MOSTLY BY EXAMPLE (because he had no idea I existed back then), and helped me develop my style as drum major for Freelancers' arch rivals, The Velvet Knights. Rest of the people at the table I don't really know. But they were nice.

I have a friend at work, a former Velvet Knight by the way (from the post 1992 era) that is, among other things, an expert at Photoshop. This would be a picture of me he created after I had returned from a brief vacation to San Simeon where I developed an abcess and had to have oral surgery due to the intense pain. Yeah...that's his tribute to me. Yeah it's sort of gross.

Get over it.

This is what I'm attempting to KEEP from becoming. Another Photoshop creation by a certain former VK computer geek.

From this at DCI Finals in 1987....(ignore the movie poster thing--it's a joke that was sent to me)....

....to this, announcing the Kingsmen Alumni Corps on to the field at the Rose Bowl for DCI Finals 20 years later.

THIS TOTALLY FREAKS ME THE HELL OUT!!!

Happy 100th post. If you've read 'em all...you really need to seek some counseling. I feel sorry for you. But thanks--whatever good THAT does for ya!!

Now......................GET...................OUT........................OF..............HERE!! :-)

I don't understand a lot...but this scared me...

http://www.bloomberg.com/avp/avp.htm?clipSRC=mms://media2.bloomberg.com/cache/v6A3ROrCPZNk.asf

This may seem boring, because it's a propellor head talking about stocks and the financial world. However, this TOTALLY ties in to my last post. The "foreclosure crisis" is part of a larger "circle of disaster" that is poised to occur. Now I keep my ear to the ground and read what a bunch of tin-foil hat wearing people are saying about this situation in the world right now, and of course they're saying the Greatest Depression Since The Dawn Of Time is coming so buy a farm, get out of the cities, buy food preps, get your guns, blah blah blah. I'm nowhere near that way of thinking (well...actually I am when it comes to food preps), but this video is VERY VERY telling. If you can wade through this, just listen to this guy. Typically on the "mainstream media", especially Bloomberg TV, having this level of negativity is very rare, so I hear. You can even see it in the interviewer when all of a sudden in the middle of the interview she blurts out "WOW THIS IS SOOOO NEGATIVE!" or something to that effect.

What's the point Turner???

I don't know--yesterday, I said something was amiss. Even though I don't participate in the stock market, it seems we're on the brink of a MAJOR MAJOR downturn in the world economy as we know it, and that WILL affect the Joe Schlub like myself that is supporting a family. How badly? I have no clue...but according to my paranoid friends...

WATCH OUT!!!

Something is amiss...

I live in a great country. I have lots of freedoms and I have lots of opportunities and there is much to be grateful for. But...BUT...something is not right. Something is stinky. Let me give you a quick recap of things that are on my radar...

--Internet service cables in and around the Mid East are mysteriously "cut"...at the bottom of oceans. Not much news coverage of this. But it's happening. Why? Theories abound, but this is akin to Germany in WWII cutting communications lines to Britain before they attacked. Is something up in the Mid East? Iran???

--The primaries are offering me "nothing new". You Obama freaks are going to get exactly what you asked for. A raging SOCIALIST. With Hillary Clinton...more of the same old, same old. Oh by the way..Universal Health Care is her big rallying cry. Get ready to pay OUT YOUR ASS for that. I want NO PART OF IT, thank you very much. I spend BIG BUCKS every month to make sure that I will have NO PART OF IT. You should too. You've been warned. Let's see...oh...yeah. Republicans. Not that you can tell them apart from the liberals. McCain--Mr. Bad Temper man. He's ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLL about the Iraq War. Yeah. OK. The war that we're "winning". OK. He's real in tune with reality, hanh? This is the same McCain mind you that didn't care much for our sovereignty as a nation and sponsored the McCain/Kennedy Amnesty Bill for Illegal Aliens. You remember illegal aliens, right? The ones that are clogging up our schools, our hospitals, our ROADS, OUR COUNTRY!?!?!?!?! Yeah. If you voted for this loser, you voted for someone who within the last few weeks suddenly "saw the light" and is now AGAINST his own amnesty that he HAD been for. YOU BELIEVE THAT?!?!? No...seriously. YOU BELIEVE HIM???? Romney...I can't tell what he's for or against or anything. He just keeps saying "Put me in the White House...yap yap yap". Something more than sound bites, please. Huckabee and Paul, both non-issues, only confuse the stupid. So why is this all here? Something is amiss in this country because our choices BASICALLY come down to Obama, Hillary, McCain, and Romney. --sigh-- Our country, which HAS been screwed so nice and royally by Bush, is not a rubber stopper away from being sucked into the garbage disposal. MARK MY WORDS. I'm not typically political but HOLY CRAP ALIVE...this past year has been an eye opener to say the least.

--Anyone care much about world economics? You do? Oh good. Because I don't understand much beyond writing checks, making deposits, and working an ATM machine. But I read A LOT. The stock market--on a world-wide basis--is OUT OF CONTROL. If you DON'T follow it, and I bet most of you don't, I will tell you this. Some major major names in the business are declaring that we are in for a world of hurt. If you don't invest like I don't, you may be ok but you'll get hit with higher prices on everything (already see it big time in the groceries, believe you me.) But there are some VERY dire predictions that come summer time, we may be experiencing something worse that the Crash of 29. Get ready. Or don't.

--Speaking of money. Were you an idiot and got an Adjustable Rate Mortgage, thinking that somehow, the 1.5% APR was going to last for 30 years, and then after 2,3, or 5 years, all of a sudden, your house payment on a house you normally would NEVER have been able to afford on Planet Reality is now 40, 50 or 60% MORE. And NOW you can't AFFORD IT??? Are you one of those??? If you are, you're getting EXACTLY what you deserve. Sorry. I have NO sympathy whatsoever for you. If you are a "flipper" and got stuck, OH WELL. You played the odds and lost. You see, sometime in the recent past, houses became investment vehicles for some odd reason. Yeah yeah yeah...people have always bought house and rented them out. That's "sort of" an investment. But "flipping" really didn't come into vogue until the last decade, or so I read. This "false value" created in the market, ESPECIALLY HERE IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA, was and still is to some extent, absolutely ridiculous. Gone is the notion that my parents grew up with and hence, passed on to me, that a house was where you buy and raise a family. Times are MUCH different. But now...it's biting out economy in the ass. I don't pretend to understand the complexities of how our financial markets are built and maintained, but I can guarandamntee you that this "housing bubble collapse" that you hear about so often (or the "foreclosure crisis") is affecting things on a GLOBAL SCALE. Annnnnnnnnnnnnnd...there's one word to describe WHY this is occurring.

Can you say "GREED"? Good. I knew you could.

--If you have a Christian upbringing or view of the world, than what I'm going to say will make perfect sense. If you don't, it'll still ring true with you and get you to say, "Hanh...you're right." I don't know how much "news" you may read or hear, but I'm sure along the way you hear about the major stuff. Lately if it hasn't been Lindsay Lohan or Paris Hilton, it's been about Britney (heck I even joked about it earlier in the blog). TMZ is now considered "the news". But what's scary is this. This may be "just me", but I don't know. I think others are feeling it. But crime and lawlessness...it's reaching horrific in terms of the severity. Now, I fully recognize that there are stats that will show you that crime is actually on the decline in major categories. FBI goes to GREAT lengths to capture data, and there is some truth to that. But I'm not talking VOLUME, I'm talking the horrendous nature of crimes. ESPECIALLY against children. As a dad, I just absolutely cringe at the things I read and hear. Signs of the times??? YOU BETCHA. You don't need to be a Biblical scholar to figure that out. But even if you aren't aware of any Biblical support for what is happening today (or believe it for that matter), can one argue that the deprevity is worse today than ever before? If you're my age, do you remember playing outside your house until the streetlight came on and then you had to go home? Can you imagine letting your kid do that nowadays??

Sorry to rant but it was on my mind, and what's on my mind sometimes ends up out here on this blog. I'm watching the world turn, and I may just post more interesting insights into what's going on. There is MUCH more going on in this world than Britney Spears and the Super Bowl and our horrible choices for President.

I'll try to remind you of these things every so often...

Just thought you'd like to see a cool video of where I work. Unfortunately, when it gets to showing the inside of the Command Center where I work, it shows two dispatchers that are no longer with us. Nice.

Real nice.