Dropkick Murphys

I'm listening to music really loudly now, and I want to share this with you. In case you don't already know, the Dropkick Murphys are awesome. Readers of my blog alreay know this. They're awesome, and I'm a fan from way back when. The DKMs are wicked pissah awesome. Dillo knows how awesome they are. [Where the hell have you been, Diilo? Really. Are you dead or in prison?]

The picture is of me and Ken Casey. What a nice guy. Really. A "regular" guy and a great host.

I'd like to throw big huge thanks to WAAF, Ken's pub McGreevy's, Susie, Lindsey and her drunken friend, and whomever were those guys that helped me down Boylston Street in Boston to the show on Saint Patrick's Day. I had waaaay too many Jamesons', and far too many Guinnesses'. You must be those entries in my cell phone that I just don't recognize.

What's important here is that were all at Irish, we love our drinks, we're all immediate friends, we love our Sox and Bruins, we love great music, but most importantly we love good company.

I had a great Saint Patrick's day, laddies an' lassies.

Singing Harmony With My Son

Neither I nor my son suffer with the delusion that we can sing well. We suck. Badly. We sing loudly, and we both understand how it's supposed to sound, but ummmm ... yeah.

I'm a fervent believer in the adage that you should sing like nobody's listening, and dance like and nobody can see you.

Tonight I asked my son to sing harmony with me to Man of Constant Sorrow by Dan Tyminski. This song was made famous by being featured in the movie "O Brother, Where Art Thou.

Even though we suck, does it count that we had fun? And laughed? I think so. Am I a lunatic father because I went upstairs and shouted "SON! HARMONY! NOW!" Is Joey a lunatic son because he readily ran downstairs and sang loudly with me?

I love that boy. Yep. A lot. Just don't tell him I said so. That's my job.

Bah. Whatever. Sing loudly. Turn it up loudly and sing along with us. I double dog dare you. Sing harmony for extra points. Sing like nobody can hear you. Really. It'll make you happy.

We are here for such a short time. I've raised my kids on that philosophy. I'm proud to say that my children know a lot about rock, blues, opera, classical, and folk. And they'll succumb to their their dad's request so sing harmony, however badly.

Flags In

It is my sincere hope that you took at least a few minutes today to remember why you didn't have to go to work this morning. I'm not going to make a big speech. All I ask is that you take a second or two to reflect on all of the people over the years who have given their lives for you, your family, me, my family, and every other person in America.

From the site of Arlington National Cemetery, here's a piece of history and tradition about "Flags-In" performed by the Old Guard.

I know it sounds trite, but thanks to the fallen and their families, and thanks to you too if you took a moment today between the burgers and beers to remember the reason why today is very special.

My day was made particularly memorable at about 10:00 this morning by a pair of F/A-18 Hornets which shook the ground as they passed over my house in central Massachusetts at about 3,000 feet. I don't know from where they came nor where they were going, but I was proud to surmise they were on their way to make a fly-over somewhere where thousands of people were gathered.

Below is a description of the service provided by the Old Guard. Here's a link to an outstanding piece of photojournalism covering the 2009 work.

Each year for the past 40 years, the 3rd U.S. Infantry (The Old Guard) has honored America's fallen heroes by placing American flags before the gravestones and niches of service members buried at both Arlington National Cemetery and the U.S. Soldier's and Airmen's Home National Cemetery just prior to Memorial Day weekend.

This tradition, known as "flags in," has been conducted annually since The Old Guard was designated as the Army's official ceremonial unit in 1948. Every available soldier in the 3rd U.S. Infantry participates, placing small American flags one foot in front and centered before each grave marker.

During an approximately three-hour period, the soldiers place flags in front of more than 260,000 gravestones and about 7,300 niches at the cemetery's columbarium. Another 13,500 flags are placed at the Soldier's and Airmen's Cemetery. As part of this yearly memorial activity, Old Guard soldiers remain in the cemetery throughout the weekend, ensuring that a flag remains at each gravestone.

American flags are also placed at the graves of each of the four unknown service men interred at the Tomb of the Unknowns, by the Tomb Sentinels. All flags are removed after Memorial Day before each cemetery is opened to the public.

A US soldier sat at a grave in Section 60, where many of those who died while serving in the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are buried, of Arlington National Cemetery on Monday.(Getty Images Photo / Brendan Smialowski)

Best Song, Ever

Yeah yeah yeah ... I know that I say it a lot. Go pound sand. Right now, this is the best song, ever. I deem it so.

Rest in peace, Israel. Thank you for this gift. It's so wonderful. The creator of this video has my thanks as well. Kids, sun, surf, and Iz in his element, at his best.

Sheer joy. Yep. Joy in it's truest scene. Yep.

Ceslieanne, please know that your father gave many people happiness.

Idea for a New Project / Hobby

I'm mulling over an idea. I think that I'm going to create a website dedicated to f*ing with spammers / con artists. Hmmm. My vision is something akin to Snopes, but with reader interaction.

After publishing my recent post about f*ing with a con artist, I was and continue to be surprised by the number of people stumbling across it via an Internet search. I imagine that a site dedicated to f*ing with spammers would be beneficial to zillions of others.

Look, I honestly don't mean to sound condescending, but many people sought out information about "Diana Mosli / Kestler." They each expressed their thanks for alerting them that it was a scam. How can anybody be duped by such a scheme? Lots of people, apparently.

So I'm trying to decide on a name for the site and it's structure. I think it would be most useful for people if there would be a repository of classic SPAM scams, posted interactions similar to the one I had with "Diana," an internal search engine, and perhaps a bulletin board. Do you like f-ingwithspammers.com? It's available.

Memorial Day Weekend

Please keep in mind the reason why you don't have to go to work on Monday. That's all I'm going to say on the subject. Sometimes, less is more.

I admit it. I just had a nerdgasm.

Do you know how to utterly embarrass a nearly 17-year-old boy? I do. Stand up and applaud loudly at the end of Star Trek. Trust me.

He "scratched his eyebrow" with his middle finger in response to me putting up the Vulcan salute whilst whooping / laughing in sheer glee at an inappropriate volume at the exact moment when Jim, Uhura, Bones, Sulu, Spock, Scotty, and Chekov were all in the same frame.

Nerdgasm. Wicked pissah.

Paradoxically, we rode to the theater on Val. She's my dorkiness antidote.

I Miss My Papa

My mom died a few years ago. As I expect is the case whenever a parent dies, there is a shitload of clutter and files through which one must sort. Here's a treasure I discovered recently.

As you can see from the image at the bottom of this post, Papa (my grandfather, my mom's father) sent me a $2 bill in 1976. At the time my family was living in Pennsylvania, not in our home state of Massachusetts. It was a year before my parents would be divorced and I would be brought back to Massachusetts, and then develop a personal relationship with Papa.

For this post to make sense, you need to know a bit about Papa. He was a WWII combat veteran (who lied about his age to join the Navy), a Great Depression era orphan, 100% Irish, angry, a man of extremely few words, and from what I've heard was respected yet feared by all of his six children. My mom was his eldest.

I don't know why, but Papa and I had a special relationship. We simply got along well. There's no explaining it. I'm hesitant about discussing this publicly because my relatives might read this and be uncomfortable, but I think that my mother and all of her siblings were jealous about the attention Papa gave to me. He was kind of a dick to his kids. No, not "kind of" a dick. He was a dick. I have rarely heard anything but horrible stories. But with me, Papa was nothing but attentive, caring, and nurturing. I had a very different relationship with him than his children.

Perhaps he softened in his "old age." My memories of Papa are wonderful and fond. He used to take me on adventures (bars) from when I was 8 years old and onward, wake me up to play cribbage at 2:00 in the morning when I slept over at his house, and tell me stories about his life experiences. And yes, he was an accomplished drinker. I cut my teeth on Schlitz "tall boys" before my age reached double digits. I'm motivated to go find a six pack today.

Tangent ... stick with me ... Papa pretended to hate it when I kissed him. My sister and I used to play a game wherein we would "sneak up" to kiss him on the back of the neck. He'd make a big scene by shrugging up his shoulders, waving his arms, and shouting "AAAAARGH GOD DAMN IT YOU KIDS!" This would go on repeatedly for an hour.

I miss my Papa a lot right now. He used to hug me in a way I shall never forget, ever never ever never. He would crouch down, wrap his arms around me, squeeze, and then stand upright while hugging me. I clearly remember his scent (like an old-fashioned barber shop), the feel of his slender yet muscular arms, and I was giggling because my feet were so far off the ground. And because I was in my Papa's arms.

Okay, I'm mustering myself back to adulthood.

Back to the point of this post. I'm trying to think about how to explain to you why this gift is so strange and treasured by me.

I guess it's that Papa never did anything. He was a grumpy old bastard, had a hard life, had six kids and didn't do so well as a father. Sending me this note and a $2 bill is waaaaaay out of character.

He had a heart of gold and discovered it too late. Maybe he found out what he was missing once he had a grandson. The note is so strange because he proactively did something frivolous for me, and signed it "Love, Papa." This was before he really knew me.

I feel as if I'm failing miserably to explain to you how strange this is. This is the most poorly written post in the five years I've been Blogging. It's all over the place, doesn't flow, and ... just ugh.

*shrug*

I don't care what anybody else thinks. He was a good man. Papa and I got along. That's my conclusion, and I'm sticking with it. I miss my Papa a lot.

Double click on the below image if it's too small to see here in your browser.

Simple Pleasures

A few simple pleasures for which I'm thankful today.

Walking with Lindsay.

Listening to Janis.

And my three kids. I'm not going to post pictures of them here, so use your imagination. Two boys, 19 and almost 17, and a precocious six-year-old.

What else could I want? That's it. That's really it. My equation for a happy existence is kids + Lindsay + music.

Oh, for an extra point include Val.

Go about your business. Nothing more to see here, folks.

Essential QuickTime Component

Warning .... geek alert! For reasons with which I won't bore you here, I recently chose to re-install OSX onto my PowerBook. Apple's built-in software update gnomes quickly brought all of the native applications back up to date with the latest versions.

Unfortunately, this meant that my registered copy of QuickTime was restored to barenakedsoftware originality, and I had lost the ability to convert and save every possible video format to, well, every possible video format. I quickly re-located on teh Internets this handy essential codec package. If you want to capture, save, convert, and retain anything you see on the 'net, make sure you download Perian.

The below video is an example of how I've utilized QT and Perian. There are no less than five different types of video files merged into a one (I chose .dv as the release format). I created this piece at the request of a friend who produced a Black History Month celebration. You'll just have to take my word for it, but the high-definition version looked pretty darn cool when projected onto the huge screen in the auditorium.

Motorcycle Stuff

If you don't ride (why don't you?) or don't care to hear my thoughts about riding Val, then skip this post. I honestly don't mind a bit. But you're missing out if you don't ride. You really are. Let's talk about it. Really. You have no idea how enjoyable it is.

There are so very few people who ride that it baffles me. There is not a single person I know in my very extensive circle of family and friends who ride. How sad. How very, very sad for you. You don't know what you're missing, and I honestly believe that you'd love it. I know you're breezing over these sentences and thinking "that's not for me." Fair 'nuff. But seriously and honestly envision yourself riding a motorcycle through a twisty turny road in Vermont.

See it? Can you look me straight in the eye and say that you can see it? You look good and are smiling so widely that it hurts! Right? Right? Moving onward now, and getting off the soap box.

This post was motivated by the latest issue of Rider magazine, to which I have a subscription because of a good friend of mine. You know who you are, and how much I appreciate it. :)

The first thing I wish to discuss is a point raised in the excellent article written by Kevin Wing. Not only is it comprehensive and fair, but Kevin also clearly has a mastery of the English language which makes me wince in jealousy that I'm not in his shoes. To be a writer for Rider! *sigh* I digress.

In his review of the 2009 BMW K1300 (not my style, but hey, there's a bike for everybody), there is mention of an option that has piqued my curiosity. Kevin says "BMW offers an optional Gear Shift Assistant [GSA]. More colloquially known as a quick-shifter ... the GSA uses a Hall-effect switch to briefly cut injection and ignition for smooth, clutchless upshifts. You don't have to use it — electronic wizardry disables it when the clutch is engaged — but take it from me, it will become your new BFF."

Okay . . . three hours after reading those sentences, I'm still pondering exactly what it means. Seriously. I honestly don't get it. I think it means the GSA feature would allow me to ram up through my gears on Val from first to third (without grabbing the clutch with my left hand?!) in order to rip from zero to sixty in the blink of an eye.

If so, I want that shit retrofitted onto her. Now. Right now. She's a cruiser, not a GT. I've scraped her footpegs (and exhaust) against the pavement plenty of times, but that's simply not what she was designed to do. I'm not a speed demon by any means, yet Val is no slouch since she has six cylinders, nearly 1600 ccs, and a shaft drive. All that said, she's a huge and heavy bitch at 900 pounds, and her low-end HP/torque isn't her strong suit. She still loves me and brings us from zero to sixty close to the same speed that most decent sports cars can muster. Give me fourth gear at 7,000 RPM and I'll see you later in my rear view mirror.

The second point I want to discuss from this issue is the exhaustive and informative article written by Bill Stermer entitled "Mad Hatters." He reviews a wide rage of full-face helmets. It's well written and informative . . . but who cares?

Don't get me started on this subject. Allow me to avoid stating anything publicly which would get me into trouble within the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and the very few other states which require DOT-approved helmets. Let me just say that the second I cross the border into New Hampshire, Maine, Connecticut, or Rhode Island that I unclip my "DOT-approved helmet" and put it into my saddle bag.

If I'm going to get smucked by a car that blows through a red light, then ... well ... okay. I'm dead anyway, so this is a moot point. I'm more likely to die from massive internal injuries than bonking my head off the pavement. If you're chomping at the bit to rant about how I have no idea what it's like to be in an accident or see the repercussions from being hit, you can go pound sand. I know, and have served plenty of time at motorcycle accidents, but won't discuss details here for various reasons. I'm sure you understand.

Every fatality at which I've served was determined to be due to massive internal injuries, with the exception of one poor bastard that happened to clip his bean off of a telephone pole.

I own two full-face DOT-approved helmets. I will occasionally wear one of them if I'm on a long trip which requires three or more hours of highway travel. I always make my passenger (most often one of my kids) wear one. Aside from those times, you can expect to see me wearing my Sox cap backwards or nothing at all.

You, dear reader, deserve an explanation as to why I detest full face helmets. And yeah, I've heard all the counter-arguments before now. Frickin' spare me. This debate is akin to the age-old Macintosh / PC flame war.

Let me tell you about how it really is. Without a helmet or wearing my "legal" skull cap, I can hear, see, and sense things that I simply cannot whilst wearing a full helmet. It's a night and day experience. There is no comparison, it's really and truly that big of a gap, and trust on this point ... I have decades of experience with both options. If I'm going down, I'm going down.

There's an old saying amongst people who ride. "It's not if you drop your bike, but when." Well, bah. I refuse to believe that. I've been riding for two decades, I've taken all of the advanced rider courses one could take, I pay attention, and . . . I still realize that I may likely get smucked at an intersection one day.

So be it. I'd rather have eaten steak, not worked out, and rode a motorcycle for 60 years than die at 80 having been a vegetarian, gym rat, and driving a frickin' Prius.

F*ing with con artists, part deux

I think that my reply to yesterday's message from the con artist might be too much, too soon. *shrug* Bonus points if you pick up on the subtle verbal middle fingers I put forth, not just the obvious ones. There are many, and I admit to chortling repeatedly as I wrote it. The PR gland in my brain screamed repeatedly in protest.

Dear Diana:

Thank you SO much for letting me provide you with some more farther informations.


First name: Richard
Last name: Cranium
Street address: 1 Ashburton Place, Apt. #7
City: Boston
State: MA
Zip code: 02108
Home phone: The bastards turned off my SI Football phone! But there's a pay phone I can use at the pub to call you. If you wants to chattie me, then I need you to tell me when you want to call so I can get that selfish JERK off the phone. Barry's always hogging it to try to find a job this year. That bastard!

- Are you currently employed?

Yes I have a job. I'm a petrolium replensishem-ent technition at Cumbie's in Westford. The pay's terrible! But they don't get their gas from Chavez like the bastards across the street at Citgo! Ooooh .... big sign at Feway ... oooh! Like that makes me want to work there!

- Do you have any debt with any credit card company?

I have a LOT of det. That's why I am so happy to get a new job with American Express! I owe you guys $12,881.12, and the limit you put on me is almost there! You called me a few weeks ago and took away a lot of my limit, and now it's only $15,000. Why you bastards?! HA! LOL a lot! ALMOST ROTF! I'M A KIDDER! I always paid on time so really why did you take away some of my limit? It used to be $20,000. Oh, and also I am so so so so so so so so so sorry to say that I have a Vista card two. I owe those bastards $2,509.47 (but I sent them some monies yesterday or maybe it was Monday, so then my owed is something 'round $2,409.47 but I can never figure out how when I pay them $100 they still says I owe them the same amount but take away what I pade them plus the money they says i owe. Wait. I got confused. You know what I'm sayin', Diane? AnyHOO! That card has a LOT left of in, the stupid bastards! I can spend $7,000 on that one! Well not $7,0000 but whatever it iis the monies I owe after they get my $100 -- the bastards!

- If you owe money (credits) to several companies, please let us know

Oh nuts! I just writ the story of how much I owe. I can drag over that part and then do that "paste" thing here: I owe you guys $12,881.12, and the limit you put on me is almost there! You called me a few weeks ago and took away a lot of my limit, and now it's only $15,000. Why, you bastards?! HA! LOL a lot! ALMOST ROTF! I'M A KIDDER! I always paid on time, so really, why did you take away some of my limit? It used to be $20,000. Oh, and also I'm so so so so so so so so so sorry to say that I have a Vista card two. I owe those bastards $2,509.47 (but I sent them some monies yesterday or maybe it was Monday, so then my owed is something 'round $2,409.47 but I can never figure out why when I pay them $100 they still says I owe them the same amount but take away what I pade them plus the money they says i owe. Wait. I got confused. You know what I'm sayin', Diane? AnyHOO! That card has a LOT left of in, the stupid bastards! I can spend $7,000 on that one! Well not $7,0000 but whatever it iis the monies I owe after they get my $100 -- the bastards!

OK. I think that's all your questions. I am SO SO SO SO SO excited to start working! Whan do I get my first check for $1,200 per week? Are you going to send me business cards to hand out to my friends? Those bastards! Can I pleeeeease ask you to put a little picture of the Tazmanian Devlis on it too? LIke in the corner of the card -- but NOT NEAR the American Express guys! HA!

All my best,
Dick

P.S. I'm confused. Are you from the Mosli family or the Kestler families?

We've got a fish on the hook!

I'm so thrilled! The con artist has taken the bait! Or, more accurately, the con artist believes that I (posing as Richard Cranium) have taken the bait.

Below is an edited version of the most recent message from "Diana Mosli," posing as a member of the American Express human resources department.

As I originally suspected, "Diana Mosli" is trying to set me up for a classic scam. I believe they will instruct me to make a number of small payments using my own credit card(s) over a period of time to a number of accounts.

When these transactions reach a multiple of $500 (or more if they could), they will send me a $500 American Express gift or traveler's check that looks very real. The real American Express web site (and hundreds of other sources) explains what happens next: "[The scam] starts when someone gives you a realistic-looking check or money order and asks you to send cash somewhere in return [or, in this case, paying by credit card]. At the heart of the scam is a fake check that you deposit in your bank account. Federal law requires banks and credit unions to make funds that have been deposited available quickly. Just because you can withdraw the money doesn't indicate the check or money order is valid. It can take weeks for fake checks to be discovered, and when they are, your bank will want the money back. You are responsible for the checks and money orders you deposit or cash, because you were in the best position to determine the validity of the check or money order - you dealt with the person who gave it to you."

As a triple whammy, your credit card information is now in the hands of the scammer and you've directly paid them hundreds of dollars unwittingly to accounts linked to them.

I'll soon formulate a reply to "Diana Mosli" and share it with you. You'll notice that her name changes at the end of the message to "Diana Kestler." I guess this scam artist failed to remember which name they're using today.

I'm going to see just how far and how much I can screw with these people before they give up me. This is going to be a lot of fun!

Follow up message
Good afternoon
Thank you for your interest in our job opportunity.

ABOUT COMPANY

American Express Corporation is a leading global payments, network and travel company founded in 1850, operated in over 130 countries around the globe . . . . [I've deleted the rest of this section, as it was copied and pasted from the "About American Express" page on the legitimate corporation's website.]

OPEN VACANCY

Due to our new policies we offer remote payment processing position to you which could be accomplished from remote locations such as your present job or residence. Payment processing includes receiving payments and processing them according to the processing protocol.

This position is a priority to employees with reasonable credit card debt and it will help to resolve this issue. Here are the sequences of operations employees must comply.

1.Employee contacts his/her manager with details on the debt.
2.Company you owe money to should be indicated and the amount that you owe.
3.Status of your account is standing at present moment where you owe money.
4.Our managers will work with you to develop a payment plan according to your situation.
5.You will be provided with details on the transaction and be given all information needed for deposits.
6.During transaction you should stay in touch with your manager to verify that all the details were followed correctly.
7.Part of the funds should be redirected after deposit is completed.
8.After transaction is completed please contact your manager with all the details on the transaction.

All fees, or any additional expenses which might exist during work will be paid off by American Express inc. After a probation period of 3 months transportation expenses will be fully reimbursed this includes buses, trains, car services, and leasing of transport.

[I deleted another long and uninteresting section here.]

EMPLOYMENT

If you are interested in this position and ready to start a training,
please fill application form and email it to us.

First name: _________________
Last name: __________________
Street address: _____________
City: _______________________
State: ______________________
Zip code: ___________________
Home phone: _________________
Cell phone: _________________


- Are you currently employed?
__________________________________

- Do you have any debt with any credit card company?
__________________________________

- If you owe money (credits) to several companies, please let us know how much money you owe to each company:
__________________________________

* During first training days your will receive money for the training from our company to your debits and will use this money for the training courses. You dont need to pay for anything, our company pays for all.

* Debt is meaning that you already past your due date and started to pay minimal or more then minimal payments to credit card company, even though you did not pass your due date while you still use your credit card and you owe money to the company to pay your bill you still will qualify and also if you have any cards where you have 0% for some amount of time you still can qualify for this position while using them.

Please give us up to 48 hours to process all the information and contact your with future placement details.

Yours respectfully,
Diana Kestler
Company Direct Employer, American Express Corporation

See you in an hour . . .

The one thing you would never want to hear your boss say if you worked at this quarry: "Go get a hammer from the bottom of the job site and bring it back up here."

F*ing with SPAM, another attempt

Let's play with a SPAMmer! Yay, fun!

Here's the opening salvo and my initial response. I hope so much that I get a reply. Why don't they ever follow through with their scheme? Of course I've created an anonymous e-mail account just to play with her / him / them. Safety first, kids.

In case you're wondering why I knew this was utter crap, the return e-mail address was something like "AMEXrecruiter@gmail.com." The other reason why this message made me snicker was the borderline illiteracy. My favorite is "There are couple couple positions." Is are couple couple? If their is one, then is I ever happitated! My second favorite has to be "there is full-time and part-time positions available." Are is it? Really? Cool!

The grammatical train wrecks, along with the seemingly Random and meaningless Capitalization of Some words, makes this one of the best pieces of SPAM I've received in quite a while. My bet is that it's from a dude in Estonia, Uruguay, or Zimbabwe. I can't wait for a reply.

On May 10, 2009, at 1:16 PM, Diana Mosli wrote:

Good morning
We found your resume and concluded that you could be a positive match to a few of positions available at American Express and Merchant Services North American Division.

There are couple couple positions listed below you might be qualifying for:

- Payment processing coordinator
- Data entry specialist
- Mail distribution coordinator
- Client database builder
- Payment collection coordinator

Guaranteed base salary package for all positions starts from $3900 monthly, include Weekends with holidays, Medical and Dental coverage and other benefits. There is full-time and part-time positions available.

These positions are office or home based due to our new policy on remote employee program.

If you are interested, email back to me and i will send you detailed information about open position.

Yours respectfully,
Diana Kestler
Company Direct Employer, American Express Corporation

On May 10, 2009, at 1:20 PM, Richard Cranium [HA!] wrote:

Dear Diana:

I am so thrilled that you found my resume! My experience and skills would be a perfect match for working as a "Payment Processing Coordinator."

When can we set up an interview?

Cheers,
Dick

----------

*UPDATE*

YAY! I just received a blank e-mail from "Diana." Is this perhaps to verify that they've hooked a breathing (and gullible) person of lesser intelligence? Let's find out! Wheeee!

Here's my reply . . .

Dear Diana --

Oh my goodness I'm so thrilled you wrote back to me! I've been running in little happy circles all day with the knowledge that American Express might hire me!

I'm a bit confused. Why was your e-mail blank?

Cheers,
Dick

Michael Monsoor

My cousin Lisa sent me an e-mail tonight which had been forwarded so many times that the text was broken up by a multitude of gibberish characters and was indented to the far right of my screen.

She had inserted a short yet simple challenge above the message which read "Don, true or not?"

Mike Monsoor, Navy EOD Technician, was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor posthumously for jumping on a grenade in Iraq, giving his life to save his fellow Seals.

During Mike Monsoor's funeral in San Diego, as his coffin was being moved from the hearse to the grave site at Ft. Rosecrans National Cemetery, SEALs were lined up on both sides of the pallbearers route forming a column of twos, with the coffin moving up the center. As Mike's coffin passed, each SEAL, having removed his gold Trident from his uniform, slapped it down embedding the Trident in the wooden coffin.

The slaps were audible from across the cemetery. By the time the coffin arrived grave side, it looked as though it had a gold inlay from all the Tridents pinned to it.

When I first read the umpteen-million-forwarded account of why Michael Monsoor had supposedly won the Medal of Honor, I am truly and deeply ashamed to admit that my gut reaction was to shout "fake." There's no way people really do stuff like this.

I was wrong. Very wrong.

U.S. Navy SEAL Petty Officer Second Class Michael A. Monsoor is a true hero. My own words would not be able to better describe the reason for his award than the Summary of Action report from the U.S. Navy:

The grenade hit him in the chest and bounced onto the deck. He immediately leapt to his feet and yelled "grenade" to alert his teammates of impending danger, but they could not evacuate the sniper hide-sight in time to escape harm. Without hesitation and showing no regard for his own life, he threw himself onto the grenade, smothering it to protect his teammates who were lying in close proximity. The grenade detonated as he came down on top of it, mortally wounding him .... Of the three SEALs on that rooftop corner, he had the only avenue of escape away from the blast, and if he had so chosen, he could have easily escaped. Instead, Monsoor chose to protect his comrades by the sacrifice of his own life.

I'm at a loss for words here.

Part of me thought that guys like Mike only existed in the movies, and yet I've heard stories of heroic actions again and again from relatives, acquaintances, and while serving at funerals for fallen veterans during PGR missions.

Selfless heroism makes me so very proud, and yet oddly ashamed. Guys like Mike are out there literally giving their lives in service to our country, and here I am comfortably sitting at my computer and trying to describe why I appreciate and salute them.

Navy SEALs slapped their Tridents onto Mike's coffin. Their frickin' Tridents. That alone makes this post seems so weak and meaningless.

Do me a favor, readers of this blog. Regardless of your personal politics or for whichever armed conflict you supported or opposed from WWI through today, when you next see a serviceman/woman wearing a uniform, or if you know somebody that has served, please take two seconds out of your day and just say "thank you."

Music, "Da Guys," and Beer

If you're female, this post is highly unlikely to make much sense.

One of the things I enjoy most in life is hanging out with "da guys." Many of the guys play instruments. My friend Jimmy, being a guy, took it upon himself to build a massive stage in what used to be an oversized two-car garage. Yes, the stage he built has a Red Sox theme and it looks like a baseball diamond.

C'mon. Get with the program. Of course he did. And yeah, his wife let him do it. Why? Because it kept him busy for days on end, was sort of at home, and she didn't have to put up with his shit during the project.

What was my point? Oh, yes. I love hanging out with the guys. We drink beer, we swear a lot, we smoke cigarettes and cigars, we pretend to not be in love with the women with whom we are in love, we play music, we drink more beer, we swear some more, and ... ummm ... be guys.

I brought my dulcimer which Cathy Lanno gave to me. There are precious few songs requiring a dulcimer, so I spent most of the evening singing harmony, fetching beers, and fiddling with the sound board.

Guys will understand this post. Women will likely not. We do not discuss Hollywood celebrities, the fucking Swine Flu, or what is indeed the "new black." We scratch our crotches, insult one another, and love life.

Welcome to manhood.

My view from the drumset -- and don't bother making a comment, I know full well that I suck at playing the drums. Rusty (who's awesome) and Jerry (who's freakin' awesome) were both there last night. I was allowed to beat 'em up for a while, then kicked off stage. They were gracious enough to have me to play cowbell during "Honky Tonk Woman."