I do not fancy myself as the real sentimental type. Today I turned 42. I do not care to make a big deal of it. No big parties, just want to have some family and friends around. The family could not be with me for my birthday this year. You see, I have been in Michigan for the last 19 days. That is alright though, because I have made some new friends. The staff at the hotel that I have been staying at is absolutely terrific. So if you are in the Detroit Michigan area and are looking for a nice place you might want to try the Courtyard Marriott in Utica, MI. I came back from the Air Force Base to find balloons and a cake waiting for me in my room. Even though my family was not here this made a big difference.
While I am on the subject of birthdays, even though I was born 42 years ago this is actually my 43rd birthday. You see no one ever counts the day they were born. Today is the 42nd anniversary of my birth. I am actually now starting my 43rd year. I hope this makes no sense to you. I went to go see Friday the 13th movie. It was good. I would see it again because I like a good scare. So they have found a way to bring Jason back again. The Jason movies were movies I grew up with. I will not spoil it for anyone, however I wish they had built up the character line for Jason Vorhees a little more. It would have been a welcome addition. To get a glimpse into his psyche. Why is he so psychotic? What is his motivation? Does he even have one?
I will sign off now and leave everyone to their devices. Before I do though I want to say thank you to the staff at the Courtyard Marriott. Thanks Don, Chris, Kim, Felicia, Joanne, The cook whose name I never did get, The housekeeping staff (you all did a wonderful job), James and if I missed your name anyone Thank You all so much for making my stay wonderful. Don, I know you are following my blog, wish Kathy well for me in her recovery from surgery.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Monday, February 9, 2009
A Moment of Silence
Early today four US Service Members lost their lives in Iraq. Let us remember their ultimate sacrifice by just having a moment of silence. . . . .
Thank you and God Bless all those who serve our Country.
After being in Iraq myself one would think I would have some profound words of wisdom in situations like these. I do not. I would want people to know that there is never anything profound to be said about death in war. "Why do I serve?" You ask. I serve because I choose to. I serve so that others can choose not to. I serve because my conscience and my heart direct me to. I serve to protect our freedom. I serve to protect our families and our way of life.
As a Combat Medic I have seen, smelled and even tasted death in its rawest form. It is not pretty. It effects you for the rest of your life. It changes you. The way you think. The way you live. The way you cope. I do not seek pity. I only want people to realize that I think differently. I may be thinking about where the next explosion is going to come from. Or who is next to be hit. All this while sitting and watching the on screen advertisements at the movies. I watch people more closely now. I profile those who appear to be Arabic. Though in the back of my mind some where deep I know that all is OK. I constantly look for ways out, devising a course of action in case the worst happens.
Even today years after the last roadside bomb went off for me, I still jump. My heart still races. I can still remember the feel of a lifeless body in my arms. The crying, the screaming, the stench of burnt flesh. Move on, move on there's nothing I can do for him. Who's next? No pulse. He's gone too. Determine who can be saved, who can't. Do my best on the worst. Move on to the next. I feel disbelief, anger, hatred. Hatred of the memories that will forever be a part of me.
All of this is now my life. I live with it. I deal with it. I speak to my counselor. I pray to God. I am healing. But for now the "noise" is there. The dreams, the fear, the awareness that something could happen. For me there I am still waiting.
Waiting for "A Moment of Silence"
Thank you and God Bless all those who serve our Country.
After being in Iraq myself one would think I would have some profound words of wisdom in situations like these. I do not. I would want people to know that there is never anything profound to be said about death in war. "Why do I serve?" You ask. I serve because I choose to. I serve so that others can choose not to. I serve because my conscience and my heart direct me to. I serve to protect our freedom. I serve to protect our families and our way of life.
As a Combat Medic I have seen, smelled and even tasted death in its rawest form. It is not pretty. It effects you for the rest of your life. It changes you. The way you think. The way you live. The way you cope. I do not seek pity. I only want people to realize that I think differently. I may be thinking about where the next explosion is going to come from. Or who is next to be hit. All this while sitting and watching the on screen advertisements at the movies. I watch people more closely now. I profile those who appear to be Arabic. Though in the back of my mind some where deep I know that all is OK. I constantly look for ways out, devising a course of action in case the worst happens.
Even today years after the last roadside bomb went off for me, I still jump. My heart still races. I can still remember the feel of a lifeless body in my arms. The crying, the screaming, the stench of burnt flesh. Move on, move on there's nothing I can do for him. Who's next? No pulse. He's gone too. Determine who can be saved, who can't. Do my best on the worst. Move on to the next. I feel disbelief, anger, hatred. Hatred of the memories that will forever be a part of me.
All of this is now my life. I live with it. I deal with it. I speak to my counselor. I pray to God. I am healing. But for now the "noise" is there. The dreams, the fear, the awareness that something could happen. For me there I am still waiting.
Waiting for "A Moment of Silence"
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Happy Birthday Andrew, (My Little Man)
Well Sonsher, today is your 19th birthday. Where has all the time gone? I remember the day that the Red Cross called me down at Fort Lee, VA. It was around 1:00Pm on February 7th. Labor had started. Off I went to the airport and hopped the plane to Manchester, NH. Grammy and Ralph met me at the airport and that is when the fun started. Here was Grammy with her crappy Chevy Citation. I prayed it would make it to Woodsville, 2 hours away. Thank God it wasn't snowing. You should have seen that car. It made your gay blue ford tempo look like a brand new caddy. Well we didn't even make it out of Concord when the car started acting up. My only thought was that my sister is the only one at the hospital with your mother and she will pass out with the first drop of blood. After all that is what she is famous for.
We chugged along, car choking and gagging for air it seemed. Then it happened. A loud bang like a gunshot going off. The car gasped. It slowed and began to crawl to what I thought was its final resting place. We all got out of the car on this cold night. At least it was cold to me as I was used to warm Fort Lee Va. We opened the hood trying to figure out what was wrong with the car. We had no cell phone, no way of calling the hospital to say I am not going to make it. I so badly wanted to yell to the doctor to put up a wall to keep you from coming out so I can be there. Here we stood no flashlight, no tools, no clue as to what had happened. It could have been a sniper attack. Who knows?
After what seemed like thirty years a cop pulled up behind us. He asked what happened. As far as I knew the car had a heart attack. He got a flash light and we quickly discovered the problem. One of the spark plugs had come loose and popped out. The gunshot. Lucky for us the cop was well prepared, he had the tools we needed to put it back into place. We continued on our way. Finally making it to Woodsville. I walked into the front door and headed straight to the OB wing. No need for elevators here, only one floor. I walked up to the nurses station and asked where your Mother was and if you had been born yet. Dr. Glowa came out and greeted me. Nope no Andrew. I guess you thought it was to cold. She said that tomorrow they would induce labor again. "Again," I thought. It seems that labor was induced because you were 2 and a half weeks late. She said that your Mother would have labor pains all through the night, but she that she wasn't dilated enough to give birth. That was the 7th.
February 8th, I do not remember exactly what time that morning they gave the shot of pitosin to induce labor, but things started pretty quickly or so I thought. 3 centimeters, 4, 5, 6, 7, and then nothing. Contractions came and went all afternoon. Another shot of pitosin and soon things were moving again. I stayed right there the whole time. Finally 10 centimeters. There was hair. A head. A shoulder. "Oh damn he's turning" the doctor says with angst. Finally out you came. All naked ten pounds of you. The slap on you bottom. Your screaming as you breathe your first breath. The scissors were handed to me. Cut the umbilical cord. Blood splatters across my face. I walk into the nursery where they had taken you. Already you are crying. You had wet your diaper. I changed it, your first diaper change. I fed you. I burped you. I cried with joy and delight. My son, my little man, Andrew Micah St. Marie. Meanwhile the doctor was hard at work stitching up your Mother. It seems that when you decided to turn you caused some significant tearing. There was a great deal of blood loss. All came out alright in the end.
That was your first night in this world. Now you have 19 years of nights in this world and we have many good memories and bad memories. We have fishing, movies, game nights at home. Teaching you to drive. Stalling the Jeep twice on the back road from Bath. Fighting and arguing. Yelling and laughing. Crying and hugging. Wrestling and teasing. "Good Game" as I slap your butt. LOL (I don't think anyone else will get that.) Even after all these years Andrew you are still my Little Man. I love you and always will. I would give my life for you. Happy Birthday Son.
We chugged along, car choking and gagging for air it seemed. Then it happened. A loud bang like a gunshot going off. The car gasped. It slowed and began to crawl to what I thought was its final resting place. We all got out of the car on this cold night. At least it was cold to me as I was used to warm Fort Lee Va. We opened the hood trying to figure out what was wrong with the car. We had no cell phone, no way of calling the hospital to say I am not going to make it. I so badly wanted to yell to the doctor to put up a wall to keep you from coming out so I can be there. Here we stood no flashlight, no tools, no clue as to what had happened. It could have been a sniper attack. Who knows?
After what seemed like thirty years a cop pulled up behind us. He asked what happened. As far as I knew the car had a heart attack. He got a flash light and we quickly discovered the problem. One of the spark plugs had come loose and popped out. The gunshot. Lucky for us the cop was well prepared, he had the tools we needed to put it back into place. We continued on our way. Finally making it to Woodsville. I walked into the front door and headed straight to the OB wing. No need for elevators here, only one floor. I walked up to the nurses station and asked where your Mother was and if you had been born yet. Dr. Glowa came out and greeted me. Nope no Andrew. I guess you thought it was to cold. She said that tomorrow they would induce labor again. "Again," I thought. It seems that labor was induced because you were 2 and a half weeks late. She said that your Mother would have labor pains all through the night, but she that she wasn't dilated enough to give birth. That was the 7th.
February 8th, I do not remember exactly what time that morning they gave the shot of pitosin to induce labor, but things started pretty quickly or so I thought. 3 centimeters, 4, 5, 6, 7, and then nothing. Contractions came and went all afternoon. Another shot of pitosin and soon things were moving again. I stayed right there the whole time. Finally 10 centimeters. There was hair. A head. A shoulder. "Oh damn he's turning" the doctor says with angst. Finally out you came. All naked ten pounds of you. The slap on you bottom. Your screaming as you breathe your first breath. The scissors were handed to me. Cut the umbilical cord. Blood splatters across my face. I walk into the nursery where they had taken you. Already you are crying. You had wet your diaper. I changed it, your first diaper change. I fed you. I burped you. I cried with joy and delight. My son, my little man, Andrew Micah St. Marie. Meanwhile the doctor was hard at work stitching up your Mother. It seems that when you decided to turn you caused some significant tearing. There was a great deal of blood loss. All came out alright in the end.
That was your first night in this world. Now you have 19 years of nights in this world and we have many good memories and bad memories. We have fishing, movies, game nights at home. Teaching you to drive. Stalling the Jeep twice on the back road from Bath. Fighting and arguing. Yelling and laughing. Crying and hugging. Wrestling and teasing. "Good Game" as I slap your butt. LOL (I don't think anyone else will get that.) Even after all these years Andrew you are still my Little Man. I love you and always will. I would give my life for you. Happy Birthday Son.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Boredom and Politics
Well as I have mentioned I stated in my profile, I am in the National Guard. Right now I am sitting in a hotel room pondering what to do next. I have already worked out in the gym today, ate breakfast, watched a movie and am now posting my second blog. The NH National Guard saw fit to send me to Michigan. I can't tell you specifics, you know, national security and if I did I would have to kill you. Well anyway because of this trip I was introduced to blogging. One of the desk clerks presently has a blog and I will give him some free ad time. Just go to dembinski-vocieofinsanity.blogspot.com to see his blog.
Like I said I am in Michigan and as you might have guessed I am an outgoing social person. I constantly harass the desk staff just to have my fill of intelligent conversation. There is no finding that at the local convenience store, bar, or pub. This trip has been quite uneventful and I have received lots of good military training. I may be going back to The Sand Box. I have learned all about the TWPS and will be learning the LWP (some acronyms for you.) You can google these and find that I am not giving out any government secrets.
As a matter of fact it is surprising what you can find on the Internet. It is no wonder how our enemies know so much about us. You can go to google maps and see what an aerial photo of Selfridge Air National Guard base looks like. With google maps I was able to find my way from Detroit Metr Airport to the hotel and from the hotel right to the building where our classes are being held. And because I could look at that satellite photo I even had a good idea what the building looked like before I got here. The soldier I am travelling with asked me if I had been here before. Nope. Do you think terrorists have figured this out yet?
It seems the Repubs and Dems have come to an agreement on the stimulus package. I have not looked at what is to come of the new one, but if it is anything like the old, where are the new jobs coming from. I think to start we should start fining corporations that outsource jobs to other countries. Here we have millions of Americans out of work yet these "American" Companies send jobs to other places. Countries like India, and Mexico. My question is this, When are you, America going to wake up and not by products or services from these countries? I have given up my satellite provider, Directv and went back to cable because of this. Here in the Detroit area thousands have lost their jobs producing cars. The big three are in turmoil, yet I see foreign cars all over the place. I say this to those who do not buy American, "Out of work, homeless, hungry? Eat your import."
Remember in order to make America great again we as individuals have to become great. I do not mean that we have to do something extraordinary. I mean we have to stop being the same old slothful, I will just let everything play out and see what happens people. We have to become active. We need to be the lobbyists, who do not get paid by big corporations or special interest groups, and tell our congressmen and senators what we want. Too many time those special interest groups get their way because we do not let our voices be heard. All they, the politicians, hear is the voice of the lobbyist down the hall shouting "I will see you at dinner tonight Senator Kennedy." We need to shout and say "get your heads out of your asses, listen to us or we will put you in the unemployment line."
Like I said I am in Michigan and as you might have guessed I am an outgoing social person. I constantly harass the desk staff just to have my fill of intelligent conversation. There is no finding that at the local convenience store, bar, or pub. This trip has been quite uneventful and I have received lots of good military training. I may be going back to The Sand Box. I have learned all about the TWPS and will be learning the LWP (some acronyms for you.) You can google these and find that I am not giving out any government secrets.
As a matter of fact it is surprising what you can find on the Internet. It is no wonder how our enemies know so much about us. You can go to google maps and see what an aerial photo of Selfridge Air National Guard base looks like. With google maps I was able to find my way from Detroit Metr Airport to the hotel and from the hotel right to the building where our classes are being held. And because I could look at that satellite photo I even had a good idea what the building looked like before I got here. The soldier I am travelling with asked me if I had been here before. Nope. Do you think terrorists have figured this out yet?
It seems the Repubs and Dems have come to an agreement on the stimulus package. I have not looked at what is to come of the new one, but if it is anything like the old, where are the new jobs coming from. I think to start we should start fining corporations that outsource jobs to other countries. Here we have millions of Americans out of work yet these "American" Companies send jobs to other places. Countries like India, and Mexico. My question is this, When are you, America going to wake up and not by products or services from these countries? I have given up my satellite provider, Directv and went back to cable because of this. Here in the Detroit area thousands have lost their jobs producing cars. The big three are in turmoil, yet I see foreign cars all over the place. I say this to those who do not buy American, "Out of work, homeless, hungry? Eat your import."
Remember in order to make America great again we as individuals have to become great. I do not mean that we have to do something extraordinary. I mean we have to stop being the same old slothful, I will just let everything play out and see what happens people. We have to become active. We need to be the lobbyists, who do not get paid by big corporations or special interest groups, and tell our congressmen and senators what we want. Too many time those special interest groups get their way because we do not let our voices be heard. All they, the politicians, hear is the voice of the lobbyist down the hall shouting "I will see you at dinner tonight Senator Kennedy." We need to shout and say "get your heads out of your asses, listen to us or we will put you in the unemployment line."
A Little About This Blog
Jargon and Acronyms, in toady's society of texting and emails all we see are Jargon and Acronyms, WTF. LOL. IDK. I still do not know all of them. What happened to the days when people sat down and looked at each other to have serious conversations? I ask this question yet here I am blogging. WOW! (that I believe is not an acronym). I truly believe that communication is necessary in maintaining stable relationships. That communication can be any type, face to face, texting, talking on the phone, emails, instant messages.
One of my goals is to just blog about random things. I have been to lots of places and seen lots of things. I have stories that I will share that may make you cry. I may share experiences that you may not believe happened, but they did. You see I am not just your everyday ordinary person, I am unique. That is what makes us all special. As people we are all unique. There will never be two alike. We are all given very different circumstances, situations, choices in life to make. That is how God intended it. Sorry atheists there is a God. I don't think you came about because of an accident. If life on earth is because of the "Big Bang Theory" then scientists should be able to duplicate our beginnings. In a way I believe in the Big Bang Theory. I believe that God spoke and BANG! ! ! it happened.
I have noticed that in general people look past others and would not even take the time to slow down and talk to them. I can relate to this, here is a story. This happened while living in Sal Lake City. I was riding in an elevator and noticed that no one had said good morning or hello when they got on the elevator. I have always been outgoing and broached this by saying"How is everyone doing? It is such a beautiful day out isn't it?" The air was all of sudden sucked out of the elevator when everyone gasped. I thought "Did I say something wrong? I did shower today, so I know I don't smell." Then I noticed that people had moved away from me. Was there some form of elevator etiquette I had broached? I could hardly believe what was happening. Everyone had become clams and retreated into their shells. Why? Who knows? You would have thought that I was a black man in the 50's walking into an all white restaurant.
That is another thing I can not stand. Racism. I have no qualms in saying that those who consider other races lower then themselves should be shot. I did not grow up in the Mom, Dad, and two siblings family. My family consisted of me, I am white, but consider myself American, two sisters, one whom is white, one whose father is Puerto Rican, a brother, who committed suicide on the Traditional, not observed Memorial Day 2002, whose father is black, and my Mother who died from cancer on October 11, 2008 at the age of 66. My Mother never married. She told my sister once that she always wanted 4 children, and that she never said she wanted a husband. So as you can see I come from a multi racial family. That is one reason why I do not tolerate racism. Another is because of my service to our great nation. I believe that we are all created equal. I serve in the military to protect that. I will leave that for another day.
I am signing off now, and please feel free to post comments, email me, call me names, have me committed. You will never offend me. Chris
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