Christmas Eve in Iraq from my son

Merry Christmas! It's actually 4 hours and 15 minutes away from Christmas here in Yusufiyah but I'll be busy then and unable to send holiday cheer. Spirits seem to be very high as I look to my left and right here in the internet cafe. Someone out of sight behind me is listening to some rap music and others can be heard joking around. There's nothing to indicate that we lost another soldier just over 24 hours ago. I woke to the same smell of burning trash and to the same hum of a nearby generator but I knew what day it was and I had to hurry if I wanted to e-mail you all. I'll be on shift when midnight rolls around both here and at home and when my mission allows I'll think of you all. I'll also be thinking of one of my own, Specialist JS. J is with his brother in Germany right now on his way to Walter Reed Army Medical Center. His brother was recently wounded by an IED resulting in the amputation of his right arm and leg in a separate incident from that which took a soldier from us yesterday. This is actually an uplifting story to me. It's the story of how a medic, helicopter crew and a hospital performed a miracle. The S brothers are from Florida and share infectious smiles as well as bald heads. They also share the same Infantry Battalion but serve a few miles apart. They always search each other out when one brother comes in for refit and it usually ends with some new tales of intrigue shared. A few nights ago, Sergeant S was wounded badly and the quick actions of a young medic stabilized him after his body was pulled from the cold waters of a canal. I phoned in the MEDEVAC request and the helicopter arrived faster than any of us could have hoped. The helicopter crew replaced much of his lost blood enroute to the hospital and maintained his stability. The hospital put him back together. Our chain of command allowed me to escort SPC S and the Chaplain to the hospital. When Sergeant Shirley woke from his surgeries to find his brother standing over him, everyone just kind of knew it would all be alright. I had a chance to meet the surgeons, I talked to the guys who fix broken soldiers. We owe so much thanks to the troops who work at the 28th Combat Support Hospital. Every single soldier there was friendly, helpful and reverent. My best Christmas wishes go out to those guys who have allowed my soldier, J, to spend Christmas supporting his kid brother sporting his new Purple Heart pinned to a bandage.

[names trimmed to protect privacy]

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a Christmas story #1

It was nearing the holiday season, time for the orphans to hear, for the first time, the traditional story of Christmas. We told them about Mary and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem. Finding no room in the inn, the couple went to a stable, where the boy Jesus was born and placed in a manger.

Throughout the story, the children and staff sat in amazement as they listened. Some sat on the edges of their stools, trying to grasp every word. Completing the story, we gave the children three small pieces of cardboard to make a crude manger. Each child was given a small paper square, cut from yellow napkins I had brought with me. No colored paper was available in the city.

Following instructions, the children tore the paper and carefully laid strips in the manger for straw. Small squares of flannel, cut from a worn-out nightgown an American lady was throwing away as she left Russia, were used for the baby's blanket. A doll-like baby was cut from tan felt we had brought from the United States.

The orphans were busy assembling their mangers as I walked among them to see if they needed any help. All went well until I got to one table where little Misha sat. He looked to be about 6 years old and had finished his project.

As I looked at the little boy's manger, I was startled to see not one, but two babies in the manger. Quickly, I called for the translator to ask why there were two babies in the manger.

Crossing his arms in front of him and looking at his completed manger scene, the child began to repeat the story very seriously. For such a young boy, who had only heard the Christmas story once, he related the happenings accurately—until he came to the part where Mary put the baby Jesus in the manger.

Then Misha started to ad-lib. He made up his own ending to the story as he said, "And when Maria laid the baby in the manger, Jesus looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told him I have no mama and I have no papa, so I don't have any place to stay. Then Jesus told me I could stay with him.

"But I told him I couldn't, because I didn't have a gift to give him like everybody else did. But I wanted to stay with Jesus so much, so I thought about what I had that maybe I could use for a gift.

"I thought maybe if I kept him warm, that would be a good gift. So I asked Jesus, 'If I keep you warm, will that be a good enough gift?'

"And Jesus told me, 'If you keep me warm, that will be the best gift anybody ever gave me.'

"So I got into the manger, and then Jesus looked at me and he told me I could stay with him—for always."

As Misha finished his story, his eyes brimmed full of tears. Putting his hand over his face, his head dropped to the table and his shoulders shook as he sobbed and sobbed. The little orphan had found someone who would never abandon nor abuse him, someone who would stay with him for always.

Which Holiday Relative Are You?

Please circle the letter that best describes your response.

1. When dinner is served, what do you say?
A. Is the turkey done? How are the mashed potatoes? Could I make some more gravy?
B. I get first pick! I paid for that turkey.
C. Who needs their wine topped off?
D. I want to open presents first.
E. Please pass the salad, and no, I'm not dating anybody.
F. Why is everybody here? It's not my birthday, is it?
G. Are you going to finish that? I'll be glad to finish that for you.

2. When opening gifts, what do you say?
A. I'm going to save this pretty wrapping paper.
B. I paid $57.95 for that and he's playing with the box! Play with the toy!!
C. I don't need another 12-step book.
D. This stinks! I wanted a pokeasurusmon game.
E. Oh, great. Another tablecloth. I can use this while eating take-out every night.
F. This is a wonderful hat. I can keep my government secrets in here.
G. Woo Hoo! I love my new toy! I'm so excited.

3. What do you think when shopping for gifts?
A. I'm making good money now -- this year it's fabulous gifts for everyone.
B. Do I look like I'm made of money?
C. Vermouth for everyone, and jars of olives for stocking stuffers.
D. You mean I have to "buy" presents?
E. This sweater is a lovely shade of cobalt, but it needs to be more of a cerulean.
F. A banana for Peggy Sue. A hula-hoop for Betty, and some bobby socks for Jude.
G. I wish I were in the mall with them and not locked in this car by myself.

4. What is your holiday attire like?
A. A green dress, red blouse, and Christmas tree earrings.
B. The same thing I wear every holiday.
C. I always notice my shirt is on backwards halfway through dinner.
D. I have to wear a clip-on bow tie and itchy wool pants.
E. Something black that shows a little leg.
F. My pajamas and a fez.
G. Fur.

5. How do you decorate the house during the holidays?
A. You can never have too many wreaths, I always say.
B. It's time to string up the lights again?! Geez!
C. Airline-size liquor bottles strung together are a beautiful holiday decoration.
D. I string popcorn together so I can eat it after Christmas.
E. Why decorate when I am never home?
F. Why would I want to decorate the "horse"?
G. I like to leave lots of homemade surprises behind the couch.

6. If you were a reindeer, what would your name be?
A. Cleaner.
B. Whiner.
C. Rudolph the RED NOSED reindeer.
D. Broken.
E. Vixen.
F. Burden.
G. Sniffer.

7. What is your favorite outdoor winter activity?
A. I love sleigh rides with the whole family.
B. Leave me alone. I'm watching football.
C. Frozen snow makes a great margarita mix.
D. I'm gonna peg people with snow balls.
E. Anatomically correct snowmen and lots of them.
F. I run through the sprinklers without any clothes on.
G. Making yellow snow is lots of fun.

-----

If you circled "A" three or more times, you are "Uber Mother." Mom, sit down! The meal is perfect, the house is perfect, and the gifts are perfect. So knock back a few shots of eggnog and chill!

If you circled "B" three or more times, you are "The Irritable Father." You put the "Bah" in "Bah humbug" and the "Grrr" in Grinch. Lighten up.

If you circled "C" three or more times, you are "The Tipsy Aunt." It's time to start drinking your eggnog straight, honey.

If you circled "D" three or more times, you are "The Whiny Grandchild." You're so spoiled. Stop complaining about getting underwear instead of toys. When I was your age, we had to make our own underwear out of leaves.

If you circled "E" three or more times, you are "The Career-Minded Daughter." For you, life is one big party. Just remember... tick tock tick tock.

If you circled "F" three or more times, you are "Grand Pappy." We've been talking and feel it's time you move into a nice place where people can take care of you. No, put that down -- you don't need that to talk to the mother ship.

If you circled "G" three or more times, you are "The Family Dog." You're such a good boy... yes you are... yes you are...

If you circled "none" three or more times, you probably need to see a therapist.

- David Pettit

holy guide dog batman

I was doing a contracting project years ago for the Virginia DMV. They took me down to see the customer interaction. Chaos was reining because a guy was getting his photo taken and wanted his guide dog to be in the photo with him. We all of a sudden went "seeing eye dog in a driver's license photo ... what's wrong with this picture?" It turned out the Va. DMV also issued non-driver ID cards, and that was what this guy was in for. - Charles Mills

play ball

At the new AT&T (formerly Pac Bell and then SBC) Ball Park in SF, the umpires' dressing rooms have Braille signs, a source of some amusement. Have to comply with ADA, you know, whether or not it makes any sense. - Charles Mills

SOS

http://cbs2chicago.com/local/local_story_348001946.html

Dec 13, 2006 11:17 pm US/Central

Teen Expelled From School For Turning In Found Gun

Plainfield Student's Parents Say The Punishment Doesn't Make Sense

CBS) PLAINFIELD, Ill. A 13-year-old Plainfield boy and his parents are stunned and outraged after the teen found a gun in school and turned it in to authorities, who then expelled him.

CBS 2's Dana Kozlov reports Ryan Morgan's parents and supporters attended the school board meeting Wednesday evening to try to fight the expulsion. They believe the punishment, and the subsequent alternative school option, are not the proper responses to a mistake made by a teenage boy.

Ryan Morgan, 13, says he pocketed a pellet gun he and a friend found in their school's bathroom to keep people safe. Morgan's mother says a short time later Morgan gave the gun to the Troy Middle School assistant principal.

"I told him maybe that wasn't the best decision, to remove that gun, but it did lead to you finding the culprit, he was arrested and to put my son in alternative school -- he has no behavior problems," Audrey Morgan, Ryan's mother, said.

The Morgans say there was no reasoning with the principal or with the school superintendent."

He said, 'The board can give your son full two-year expulsion, I'm asking you not to go before them,'" Audrey Morgan said.

They went anyway, saying they had nothing to lose, only to see the meeting minutes already recommend expulsion.

Roy Morgan says he can't accept that, but accepts his son's decision.

"He said 'I'm going to turn this in' and you know what, I commend my son for making that decision. It was the right decision," he said.

School board officials issued a statement Wednesday night saying due to confidentiality reasons they can't discuss the specifics of this case, but that "purposeful possession of weapons is a serious offense and deserves careful consideration by the administration and the school board."

(© MMVI, CBS Broadcasting Inc. All Rights Reserved.)

good old second hand news from son

2005Sep

Leading the fight is Gunnery Sgt Michael Burghardt, known as "Iron Mike" or just "Gunny". He is on his third tour in Iraq. He had become a legend in the bomb disposal world after winning the Bronze S tar for disabling 64 IEDs and destroying 1,548 pieces of ordnance during his second tour. Then, on September 19, he got blown up. He had arrived at a chaotic scene after a bomb had killed four US soldiers. He chose not to wear the bulky bomb protection suit. "You can't react to any sniper fire and you get tunnel-vision," he explains. So, protected by just a helmet and standard-issue flak jacket, he began what bomb disposal officers term "the longest walk", stepping gingerly into a 5ft deep and 8ft wide crater. The earth shifted slightly and he saw a Senao base station with a wire leading from it. He cut the wire and used hi s 7in knife t o probe the ground. "I found a piece of red detonating cord between my legs," he says. "That's when I knew I was screwed."

Realizing he had been sucked into a trap, Sgt Burghardt, 35, yelled at everyone to stay back. At that moment, an insurgent, probably watching through binoculars, pressed a button on his mobile phone to detonate the secondary device below the sergeant's feet. "A chill went up the back of my neck and then the bomb exploded," he recalls. "As I was in the air I remember thinking, 'I don't believe they got me.' I was just ticked off they were able to do it. Then I was lying on the road, not able to feel anything from the waist down."

His colleagues cut off his trousers to see how badly he was hurt. None could believe his legs were still there. "My dad's a Vietnam vet who's paralyzed from the waist down," says Sgt Burghardt. "I was lying there thinking I didn't want to be in a wheelchair ne xt to my dad and for him to see me like that. They started to cut away my pants and I felt a real sharp pain and blood trickling down. Then I wiggled my toes and I thought, 'Good, I'm in business.' "As a stretcher was brought over, adrenaline and anger kicked in. "I decided to walk to the helicopter. I wasn't going to let my team-mates see me being carried away on a stretcher." He stood and gave the insurgents who had blown him up a one-fingered salute. "I flipped them one. It was like, 'OK, I lost that round but I'll be back next week'."

Copies of a photograph depicting his defiance, taken by Jeff Bundy for the Omaha World-Herald, adorn the walls of homes across America and that of Col John Gronski, the brigade commander in Ramadi, who has hailed the image as an exemplar of the warrior spirit. Sgt Burghardt's injuries - burns and wounds to his legs and buttocks - kept him off duty for nearly a month and could have earned him a ticket home. But, like his father - who was awarded a Bronze Star and three Purple Hearts for being wounded in action in Vietnam - he stayed in Ramadi to engage in the battle against insurgents who are forever coming up with more ingenious ways of killing Americans.

p.s.the story seems to have been pulled from the website - I have the picture but nowhere to store it.

for all our parish priests

During a Eucharistic Congress, a number of priests from different orders are gathered in a church for Vespers. While they are praying, a fuse blows and all the lights go out.

The Benedictines continue praying from memory, without missing a beat.

The Jesuits begin to discuss whether the blown fuse means they are dispensed from the obligation to pray Vespers.

The Franciscans compose a song of praise for God's gift of darkness

The Dominicans revisit their ongoing debate on light as a signification of the transmission of divine knowledge.

The Carmelites fall into silence and slow, steady breathing.

The parish priest, who is hosting the others, goes to the basement and replaces the fuse.

for the MD family

A young man asked a rabbi, "What is Talmud?"

"Consider two men who climb inside a chimney," said the rabbi. "One comes out clean, and the other comes out dirty. Which man washes himself?"

"I'm not sure," admitted the young man.

"The clean one washes," said the rabbi, "because he sees the dirty man, and thinks he must be dirty, too, whereas the dirty man sees the clean one, and thinks that he, too, must be clean. Now, two men climb inside a chimney. One comes out clean, and the other dirty. Which one washes?"

"The clean one," answered the young man. You just told me so.

"The dirty one washes," replied the rabbi. Each man looks at himself. The clean one sees that he is clean, the dirty one sees that he is dirty, and the dirty one washes. Now, two men climb inside a chimney. One comes out clean, and the other dirty. Which one washes?"

"I guess it could be either one," said the young man.

"They both wash," replied the rabbi. "It is impossible that a man should climb inside a chimney and come out clean."

"Now wait a minute," challenged the young man. "You have just given me three contradictory answers to the same question. That's impossible!"

"No," said the rabbi. "That's Talmud." — Thanks to Neil Klein

for my son

A young infantryman, his sergeant, a beautiful young woman and her grandmother wound up sharing a compartment on a train in Europe just after World War II. Suddenly the train went into a tunnel, plunging the compartment into darkness. Just before the train emerged into the light, a loud kiss was followed by a sharp slap.

"That young man was very impertinent to kiss my granddaughter," thought the grandmother. "I'm glad she had the presence of mind to slap him like that!"

"That young man was very impertinent to kiss me like that," thought the young lady. "But I'm glad he did. I hope he won't be intimidated by my grandmother slapping him like that."

"The young fellow is certainly enterprising for kissing the young lady," thought the Sergeant, "but I wish she had landed the slap on him instead of me!"

The infantryman thought, "What a wonderful world God has made, in which a soldier can kiss a young lady, slap his sergeant, and get away with both!"

prayer when having computer problems

Invocation to St. Isidore

how was your year?

as bad as this?

http://www.regrettheerror.com/2006/12/crunks_06_the_y.html

granddaughter hailey at 4 mos

26.8 in

17# 13oz

developmentally she is rolling over early.

going to be another big kid like her sister Abagail who was over 36" at 24 mos.

Car Trouble by Lynn-Beth Satterly

It was a cold night in late December fifteen years ago. I was on the interstate near Philadelphia when the snow began to fall. I was driving home to New Jersey after a series of interviews for medical residency programs. I was tired but eager to get home to attend a performance of The Nutcracker, an annual family tradition.

Traffic was at a standstill. Looking at the dashboard, I noticed the temperature gauge climbing. Soon, the engine was smoking. “Oh no,” I thought, “I am alone, in a strange city, in a rough area, dressed in a suit and pumps.” I had five dollars, no AAA card, and no phone. I eased the car to the side of the road. I had two options: Hope that someone would stop to help, or hoof it to the next exit.

I popped the hood, got out of the car, and looked into the engine. It was an incomprehensible jumble of steaming metal and hoses. A man stopped and asked if I needed help. Peering under the hood, he reached for the radiator hose and pointed to fluid leaking from a crack. He offered to add some water to the radiator so that I could drive the car to a service station. I accepted his offer. He retrieved a thermos from his truck and poured in some water. Then he closed the hood and wished me luck.

I drove along the shoulder and prayed Hail Marys until I reached the next exit. The engine began to smoke again, but I made it to a convenience store. I sat in the car, afraid. This wasn’t a good neighborhood, and I noticed a slightly disheveled man watching me. I finally got out of the car and walked past him into the store.

I bought a roll of duct tape and some radiator fluid. I paid with a credit card my father had given me for emergencies. The disheveled man continued to watch me. Feigning confidence, I opened the hood and tried to locate the hose. As I did so, the man approached. He asked if he could take a look. He was a truck driver, he explained, home for Christmas. He’d just missed his bus.

He reached into the engine and manipulated the hose with the dexterity of a surgeon. Using his pocket knife, he cut some tape, wrapped the hose, and refilled the radiator. “It’s not gonna work,” he said. “The tape won’t hold for more than a few blocks. You certainly don’t want to break down around here after dark.”

He knew of an auto parts store a few blocks away. If we drove there, he could pick out a hose and install it. I hesitated, thinking of all the reasons I shouldn’t let this guy into my car. But in desperation, I agreed. I told him I had only five dollars and couldn’t pay him. He said he didn’t expect anything in return.

Climbing into the passenger seat, he set the pocket knife on the console. My heart skipped. We drove down several back streets, lined with warehouses. I tried to talk. I told him I was a medical student. He told me his name, Ray, and said he was on his way to visit his girlfriend in an alcohol rehabilitation program. “Alcoholism ruins lives,” he said. We made several more turns, and I had no idea where we were. Finally, the store came into view. We pulled into the lot, steam billowing from the car.

They had the right hose-the only one left in stock-and I used my father’s card again. Outside, Ray replaced the hose in a matter of minutes. I told him he worked like a surgeon. He said that I seemed down-to-earth, someone patients could talk with easily, and suggested I try to keep that trait. When he had finished, he shook my hand and started to walk away. What could I do? I offered him a ride.

Since it was too late to go to the rehabilitation hospital, he asked if I’d drive him home. We set out toward South Philadelphia, miles away. Finally, in a neighborhood of small row houses in need of repair, he asked me to stop the car and let him out. I thanked him. “You’ll get to that ballet with time to spare,” he said. “Take care of yourself, and Merry Christmas! Remember to pass along the kindness to someone else.”

I cried tears of relief and fatigue most of the way home and through the ballet. I’ve never seen Ray again but I remember him often, usually at this time of year, or when someone whom I might otherwise avoid turns up in my exam room. Ray also motivates me, years after that December night, to volunteer at a Franciscan clinic for the uninsured and homeless. And sometimes when I see a rig on the highway, I look to see if he might be behind the wheel.

copyright Commonweal
December 1, 2006 / Volume CXXXIII, Number 21 THE LAST WORD

pup is home from work today

sinuses as usual.

really good twenty most overrated films -- w/rebuttals

I do protest

In AOL's "This week in pop culture" for 2006Dec8 it shows the picture of John Lennon and the person who killed him. If we give publicity to criminals, we are encouraging them. No picture, no name just nameless darkness. Remember John and his artistic output, but forget the evil that attacked him.

I plead the fifth

http://articles.news.aol.com/news/_a/plane-forced-to-land-after-passenger/20061205210909990004?cid=2194

Kat is off to Paris

now where is that mouse mask?

support the troops

http://www.pittsburghlive.com/x/pittsburghtrib/news/cityregion/s_482686.html

wow! wikipedia!

much to my surprise wikipedia has entries for my high school and college.

thank you for the junk mail!

to aarp, all those credit card issuers and every one else who sent me junk mail, thank you and a warm hello.

warm because I sat in front of my fireplace tonight and burnt your offerings.

keep up the good work!

therapy

A husband and wife go to a counselor after 15 years of marriage. The counselor asks them what the problem is. The wife goes into a tirade, listing every problem they have ever had in the 15 years they've been married. She goes on and on and on. Finally, the counselor gets up, goes around the desk, embraces the woman and kisses her passionately. The woman shuts up and sits quietly in a daze. The counselor turns to the husband and says, "That is what your wife needs at least three times a week. Can you do that?" The husband thinks for a moment and replies, "Well, I can get her here Monday and Wednesday; but Friday, I play golf." - Case A. Bonebrake

Subject of school controversy now a Marine, veteran of Iraq

http://www.ajc.com/metro/content/metro/cobb/stories/2006/12/03/1204metwherenow.html?imw=Y

401k

This

http://money.aol.com/smoney/retirement/canvas3/_a/10-things-your-401k-provider-wont-tell/20061129105909990001

reminded me of the time a crooked Prudential salesman raped me with a variable annuity. Last time I bought anything from Prudential.

late breaking news from my son

@11:45 est

I'm at Ali Al Saleem Air Base awaiting my flight to Baghdad International Airport (BIAP) Should be back to my unit within the next 3 days.

~~~

let's pray for all those in harm's way

may the Lord shine his light upon them as he sends us the sun each day to warm and nourish the earth

amen

nitey nite

have to do rcia bible study in am. and you know how i am in the am!

sweet dreams!

pup whines

I just posted a comment to http://ragemonkey.blogspot.com/ but i have no idea how to get a link to it. you would think after 45 yrs in the biz, i would know how to use a computer.

heuristic lesson - tenacity

During the Vietnam War the Texas computer millionaire, H. Ross Perot, decided he would give a Christmas present to every American prisoner of war in Vietnam. According to David Frost, who tells the story, Perot had thousands of packages wrapped and prepared for shipping. He chartered a fleet of Boeing 707s to deliver them to Hanoi, but the war was at its height, and the Hanoi government said it would refuse to cooperate. No charity was possible, officials explained, while American bombers were devastating Vietnamese villages.

The wealthy Perot offered to hire an American construction firm to help rebuild what Americans had knocked down. The government still wouldn’t cooperate. Christmas drew near, and the packages were unsent. Refusing to give up, Perot finally took off in his chartered fleet and flew to Moscow, where his aides mailed the packages, one at a time, at the Moscow central post office. They were delivered intact.

- Charles Scriven q._Signs of the Times_ Copyright (c) 1991Dec Pacific Press
http://www.signstimes.com

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew

(Ananova 9/06) A company in Snowdonia has won an award for making greetings cards and gifts out of sheep droppings. Creative Paper Wales won a £20,000 Millennium Award for its Sheep Poo Paper products, reports the BBC. They collect sheep droppings from the surrounding mountains, sterilise it in pressure cookers and recover the washed and undigested fibres. A sheep digests just 50% of what it eats. The recovered fibres are mixed to form paper and cardboard for the company's range of stationery and gift products. Even the washing water is not wasted - it is distributed to local growers as concentrated fertiliser. Founders Lawrence Toms, 38, from Rhondda and Lez Paylor, 38, from Caerphilly, said they had been keen to develop an idea which would be uniquely Welsh. The company's plant at Aberllefenni, near Machynlleth, will be able to produce one to two tonnes of paper a year. - http://www.ananova.com

catulo ab initio

the pup, aka grandpup, is starting a blog. it is the third try. the first is now just a cobweb. the second is still trying to be born.

http://katnpup.blogspot.com/

this is try three and will be personal.

this past month has been quite busy. Kirk came home on leave. I saw him Friday at the ATL airport between flights. we had lunch with Kat though she had to scoot quickly to work. I left when he went behind the security barrier.

ATL had a lot of soldiers in cammo. when they left in groups, they got applauded. the waitress told Kirk thanks. ATL is a mil-friendly place. Kirk says all soldiers going to middle east go through ATL.

btw

The title of this entry is "pup at/in the beginning."