Sometimes, Someone Says It Better....(Part 2)

In my continuing belief that sometimes someone just says things better than I ever could, I offer the words to a song by a group with the unlikely name of "Hoobastank".  A friend sent it to me a few years ago at a particularly low time in my life and I share it with you....

The video is a little strange, but can be seen on YouTube at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLaXVI3ICp4&feature=channel

"The Reason"

I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I'm sorry that I hurt you
It's something I must live with everyday
And all the pain I put you through
I wish that I could take it all away
And be the one who catches all your tears
Thats why i need you to hear

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is You

and the reason is You [x3]

I'm not a perfect person
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know

I've found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
and the reason is you

I've found a reason to show
A side of me you didn't know
A reason for all that I do
And the reason is you

Sometimes, Someone Says It Better (Part 1)

We all listen to radios, CD's and read poetry at times in our lives because sometimes people say things that just speak to us, individually and collectively.  I was listening to the radio as I drove home tonight and I heard a song by Michael Buble (pronounced: booblay....I think).  It is a very upbeat tune and the words spoke to me, so I share them with you.  If you would like to listen, you can go to the following link to hear it and sing along....

http://www.directlyrics.com/michael-buble-havent-met-you-yet-lyrics.html

I'm Not Surprised
Not Everything Lasts
Have Broken My Heart So Many Times,
I Stopped Keepin Track.
Talk Myself In
I Talk Myself Out
I Get All Worked Up
Then I Let Myself Down.

I Tried So Very Hard Not To Lose It
I Came Up With A Million Excuses
I Thought I Thought Of Every Possibility


And I Now Someday That It'll All Turn Out
You'll Make Me Work So We Can Work To Work It Out
And I Promise You Kid That I'll Give So Much More Than I Get
I Just Haven't Met You Yet

Mmmmm ....

I Might Have To Wait
I'll Never Give Up
I Guess It's Half Time
And The Other Half's Luck

Wherever You Are
Whenever It's Right
You Come Out Of Nowhere And Into My Life

And I Know That We Can Be So Amazing
And Baby Your Love Is Gonna Change Me
And Now I Can See Every Possibility

Hmmmmm ......

And Somehow I Know That Will All Turn Out
And You'll Make Me Work So We Can Work To Work It Out
And I Promise You Kid I'll Give So Much More Than I Get
I Just Haven't Met You Yet

They Say All's Fair
And In Love And War
But I Won't Need To Fight It
We'll Get It By It ??
To Be United

And I Know That We Can Be So Amazing
And Being In Your Life Is Gonna Change Me
And Now I Can See Every Single Possibility

Hmmm .....

And Someday I Know It'll All Turn Out
And I'll Work To Work It Out
Promise You Kid I'll Give More Than I Get
Than I Get Than I Get than I Get

Oh You Know It Will All Turn Out
And You'll Make Me Work So We Can Work To Work It Out
And I Promise You Kid To Give So Much More Than I Get
Yeah I Just Haven't Met You Yet

I Just Haven't Met You Yet
Oh Promise You Kid
To Give So Much More Than I Get

I Said Love Love Love Love Love Love Love .....
I Just Haven't Met You Yet
Love Love Love .....
I Just Haven't Met You Yet

Do Unto Others

Most of us have heard the Biblical saying, Do unto others as you would have done unto you.  That may not be an exact quote, but the sentiment is definitely there, save a word or two.  I have tried to practice this and, to tell the truth, it has caused some problems.  Nothing insurmountable, just problematic.  While I was doing unto others, they were taking advantage.  I guess that is the price we pay sometimes.

I have friends that could not be more grateful for my help.  I also know that they would do whatever they are able to help me whenever I need it.  I do not do the things I do to help because I expect to need their help at some point and, as a matter of fact, I hope to never have the need arise where I might need it.  Maybe the fact that I know they would help me if I needed it makes them different and get the adjective "friend" attributed to them.  I have found others that think I am a sucker for helping when there is nothing in it for me.  I guess it is a mater of personal philosophy.

Sure, I have been screwed a few times; more than I care to count and admit actually, but I was not lessened by the experience.  I was, in fact, improved and am a better person for the experience.  I would probably help them again, even if I knew I was going to be screwed.  Why?  Because I can.  I had he ability to help and they needed my help, or so it seemed, so I did.  If they lied, cheated or stole from me, it made them less of a good person, not me.  I am not sure, however, having been screwed over once by someone, they would be given he opportunity to do it again.  It would be a matter of trust at that point.  Then again, some people are a lot better at receiving than giving.  In the immortal words of "Dirty" Harry Callaghan, "A man's got to know his limitations."

So, I will keep on doing unto others because it makes me feel good to help, but I will try not to be stupid about it.  After all, if someone that does not deserve to get my help gets it, then someone who really needs my help might not get it.  I guess that is what is meant by judgment.

"Untamed Va-jay-jay"...Puh-leeeeez

Did the title get your attention?  It did me too, only I was in the grocery store this afternoon and it was there on the shelf as big as life.  I laughed out loud and it got me a few unwanted glances.  The phrase "Untamed Va-jay-jay" was on the cover of Cosmopolitan magazine.  Now, I will defend with my life the absolute right of Cosmopolitan to have whatever they want on their cover.  I do not in any way, manner, shape, nor form question whether they should have and do have the right to put that on their cover.  On a purely First Amendment basis, I applaud the fact that I live in a country where they can do so.  Okay, disclaimer over....

I just wonder; at what point did we become a society where it made any sense to put that on the cover of a magazine?  When did we become a society that is concerned with the care and grooming of the female genitalia in a public way?  I kinda liked it when issues such as this were limited to discussions between a woman and her OB/GYN and/or her husband or boyfriend.  I will freely admit that I have personal preferences in this regard, but these preferences are of no concern to anyone but me and a woman with whom I have a relationship of sufficient quality that allows us to have these kinds of conversations.  Is this a subject that lends itself to public discussion?  I really don't think so, but then that is just my own opinion and each and everyone on the planet has the absolute right to disagree with me.

Free speech... This is a really touchy issue (no pun intended) to many, many people.  I defend the right of the KKK to march down the main street in predominantly Jewish Skokie, Illinois.  I do not support the opinions of the KKK, nor their beliefs, but I do believe that, as despicable as they may be, their right to engage in displays expressing their abhorrent opinions is the price we pay to live in a free and open society.  In my not-so-humble opinion, it would be a great day if, when these racists and bigots marched, they were ignored;  no counter-protesters, no observers, no curious onlookers, just an empty street.  Heck, if the businesses closed down, for the hour or so they marched, it would be that much better.  Imagine if they held a march and nobody came?  What kind of message would that send to people?  There are those that think we cannot allow such a display go without some sort of response, but the act of ignoring them sends the message that they are meaningless and unworthy of response or reply.  It does not imply that we accept anything they represent, nor does it imply that we agree with it.  It does recognize our tolerance for an extraordinarily divergent view, one that, in other countries and other times, would have resulted in people being shot or at least rounded up and imprisoned.

While the comparison of these two issues may not seem to be of equal measure, and I don't think they are, the point is the same.  Sometimes, just because you have the right to do something, does not mean it is a good idea to do it.  I have the absolute right to go into downtown Harlem and start yelling the "N"-word at the top of my lungs, and presumably the police, regardless of whether they wanted to, would probably be obliged to protect me.  I do wonder if it would constitute inciting a riot, and it probably would incite one.  Many people are so personally and viscerally offended by this word that they do not see the philosophical importance of the First Amendment and are incited to violence.  I shall leave the right and/or wrong of it to the opinions of individual readers.

It is very interesting how such a seemingly funny and relatively insignificant title like "Untamed Va-jay-jay" can be the seed for deep and meaningful thought and discussion.  I cannot help but wonder if that makes my argument just a little less effective, possibly negating it completely, but if we have to be motivated by the socially acceptable grooming styles of the vulva to consider meaningful social and democratic ideas, what does that say about us?

Grunt, Grunt.....

Regardless of who we are as men, there is a little bit of Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor in all of us guys.  Yes, this includes the intellectuals, the geeks, nerds and dweebs too.  I learned a long time ago that men like to fix things.  Some of us are better at it than others, but there is a strange sense of pride and accomplishment that goes with stretching the edges of your personal envelope and fixing something you have never worked on before. Now, I am not talking about changing the oil in our cars or some other mundane mechanical maintenance.  I am talking about really getting in there and fixing something that is broke, busted and otherwise, not working.

Previously, I figured out that changing disk brakes on a modern, post 2000, car or SUV is not, contrary to what repair shops would have you believe, rocket science.  There are no engineering degrees required and contrary to the aforementioned repair shops, once you have the problem figured out, it ain't that hard.  When you hear the brakes making noise, you are down to a chatter strip that is designed to tell you that you have 10% or less of brake pad left.  Time to replace the brake pads...duh!!  And...again contrary to popular belief, you do not have to have the disks turned, or ground down smooth every time.  Trust me, the brake pads will wear in just fine after in a few hundred miles.  So, it is a matter of taking the old parts out, reversing the procedure and putting the new parts in.  How much does it cost to put in new brake pads?  I did it for less than $100.00 for my front wheels and used really good, top of the line, pads.  I probably could have done it for less than $60.00 if I used the cheap stuff.

My most recent endeavor was at home repair and was a much more risky venture.  My air conditioning crapped out and left me with 85 degree temperatures inside.  This is wholly unacceptable!  I checked out the system and quickly determined that the motor that turns the outside (condenser) fan was not turning.  This, in turn, does not allow the coolant to be cooled in the coils and thus, you are just recycling heated coolant, which accomplishes very little, obviously. I found the fan motor to be very hot to the touch, not something good for an electric motor. So, being a fairly bright guy, I shut the power off to the unit.  I hear they can be  very pretty when they burn, but my house being very close and being made of wood, made it inadviseable to test this observation.

Now the first thing you do is take pictures of everything with your trusty color, digital camera.  I took pictures of the label on the outside of the fan unit and found the serial number and model number of the unit.  It is so much easier to look at the picture than try to write it all down and read your handwriting later.  I then went online and started Googling numbers and parts, like the model and serial number of the unit and term "motor".  Poof...I came up with all sorts of motors, sources and prices.  Please note that I was rudely awakened to find my air conditioner was installed in 1991, but knowing that I could get the parts, I went back outside and started taking out screws and things to get the bad motor out.  Once I got that done, I took pictures of the motor label, brown burn marks and all (I told you they get really hot), and had a serial number, model number and some specifications for the motor.  Oh, and to get the motor out, I had to take a panel off the side of the condensing unit and found a capacitor that looked kinda ugly.

[Caution: Some Geek Speak Follows] Okay, I did not know exactly what it (a capacitor) was when I took the panel off, but it was rusted, corroded and leaking some sort of sticky fluid.  It also looked like it had been blown up too big, as indicated by the bulging top, bottom and sides.  I astutely figured it probably needed to be replaced, and I was right I later found out.   A capacitor looks like a small can with wires attached to tab-like terminals sticking out of the top of the can.  It is a little smaller than a beer or soda can.  They come in round and oval shapes.  I managed to figure this out looking at a multitude of pictures on the Internet.  Just FYI, a capacitor kinda stores electrical energy so when the motor and compressor need to start, there is stored "juice" to allow them both to start up quickly without overloading the circuit breaker.  It's kind of a high-pressure, "jolt" battery that gives a quick surge of electricity.  Without a capacitor, the motor and compressor would "pop" the breaker every time.  They come in different capacities, some esoteric measurement called a "micro farad" is used to measure this capacity, but I digress. Needless to say, I learned far more about capacitors than I wanted to know, but asking questions does get you information.

Again, make sure you take pictures of everything, this allows you to put all the right colored wires back where they need to be when you get new parts.  Take pictures of the labels and markings on everything so you have the makes and models and all sorts of good information.  Then you can start looking online for the parts.  Do not be satisfied with your first go-round on parts; shop and compare.  You will save money!!  I called an A/C repair place that referred me to a wholesale distributor and got $200.00 worth of parts for $104.00.  The Internet was not cheaper this time.

I took my new parts home, compared them to the old parts, and they looked pretty close.  The motor was identical, the capacitor was a newer type, but it had all the same numbers, so I was fairly sure it would work.  Then, using my pictures, I put all the right-colored wires on the correct terminals on all the electrical stuff.   Then I checked it again to make sure I had not screwed up.  There is nothing worse than throwing a switch, hearing a pffffzzzt and seeing smoke from your new motor and capacitor....an expensive mistake.  Just to make sure, I checked it a third time, this time in reverse order, to make triple certain it was wired right.  Then the moment of truth

I set the thermostat inside to make sure the A/C would start and threw the breaker.  I heard the inside A/C come on, but could not hear the outside unit.  I went outside and was delighted to find it humming away, more quietly than before, I might add.  Nothing rattling, nor rockin' and rollin'.  My house began to cool almost immediately and within two hours, it was a lovely 78 degrees.

So, for three hours of my time and $100.00 in parts, I learned something about how to fix an air conditioner and saved myself the service call and mark-up which would have been about $450.00.  I also got to experience that feeling of accomplishment that allows me to grunt like a caveman, a la Tim "The Tool Man" Taylor...PRICELESS!!!!

Why Do Beautiful Women Date Ugly Men?

This is a question some people actually ponder all their lives. Mostly, its people who are into vanity, thinking the stunning girl must be out of her mind, but the truth remains a mystery to the small minded of this world. All the handsome guys want the girl, all the average girls look down on her, but perhaps that ugly guy could teach you a thing or two. I did some thinking and with some study I worked it out. It is true love and it's a good yarn to read.

I don't know how you think or how you behave but let me tell you how I discover the things I want to know.

If I want to know something, the first thing I do is ask someone who should know the answer to my question. I grew up asking heaps of questions. I still ask them of learned people and I search out things myself. When I asked my mother a question I had about the Bible once, I stumped her and I learned there is always a higher authority. Sometimes I asked my mother or father a question, went to books written on the subject of my question and still come up short. I am very deep sometimes and sometimes I want the deep answer. Sometimes I don't ask people a question, I simply think about it for a long time. The question of why that stunning girl dates that ugly guy I worked out by myself and by chatting with some very pretty women.

There are three reasons people give me when I ask them, why pretty women date ugly guys. Two of them I will mention. Then, after I mention them I will go on to the third, deeper and more loving reason that I discovered.

People say pretty women date ugly guys because:

1. The guy has got something she really desires in life. Most often, this is money and possessions and the capacity for her to live her life with no worry about money. This can even be something noble, he is a respected film producer and she is a talented actress, for example.

2. Or, the guy can supply her with all the drugs she wants to take to be out of her mind and have a good time in her youth.

I often looked at Mick Jagger and wondered, was it just 1 and 2 that the pretty girls that have been in his life fell for?  I think it may be one and two but possibly the third that I will share.

So why else does a pretty lass fall in love with an ugly guy?

The little baby girl is complimented on her really pretty features from the time she is born.  A really cute baby gets a mother plenty of compliments and most of them are by women to mom.  Sure, the father may be complimented too, but the prettiness of a little girl seems to be credited to her pretty mother, more often than not.

If the mother is into her pretty little daughter a lot, the mother might even go as far as to enter her child in baby beauty contests. If the little girl smiles in her picture and is really judged by the judges of prettiness as the best child, the mother will have a ribbon or a framed picture of that to show her daughter when she is old enough.  In our modern times even video of the event, al la JonBenet Ramsey, a video that we have all seen as nauseum.

When I was a growing teenager, I used to see a really pretty girl and thought it was a compliment to tell them that they were really pretty and then ask them if they had ever considered being a model. I did this a lot as I was mixed up sort of guy, who didn't get a lot of love in his life. Talking to pretty girls and keeping them in conversation made me feel good, but one thing I noticed after using the line many times was that the pretty girls didn't really think they had been complimented. In fact, on many occasions, they cut me short and made it clear that my line of speech was not at all appreciated.

Why was this so? I had to ask myself. Why would a stunning girl get offended by a boy or a man telling her she was stunning?

Do you know the one thing that a really pretty girl most often misses out on? Genuine love and appreciation for the talents she has inside her and for her heart and her secret desires to impact the world in which she lives. People seem to see her only skin deep and some stunning young girls in this world are told to be quiet when they try to prove that they are also very intelligent.

I have to laugh; the other day I saw a very attractive attorney at the courtouse.  I pointed her out to another man that was walking next to me and he agreed this beautiful, intelligent woman was in another class. He joked that he wished he could get her business card and use her for his law work. He had reduced an obviously accomplished and educated woman to the sum of her bodily parts. I don’t think he will ever realize that he was missing out on the majority of what made her attractive, at least to me.  I myself must acknowledge taht it was her beauty that attracted my attention.

It's a sad truth that most men prefer blondes and many brunettes dye their hair blonde to cater to this bias in men, yet this self same evil world we live in comes out with a hundred and one dumb blonde jokes. Do you know what we are saying as we share these dumb blonde jokes and laugh in the presence of a blonde who can hear it? We are saying, dress up for me, look pretty, be a lady in public and a sex object behind closed doors, but shut your mouth because we don't want to hear anything you say! The only thing a stunning blonde or brunette can never be sure of is this; they can never be sure men love them for who they are inside or for what they look like on the outside. This is a sad way to live.

Yet along comes an ugly guy and the one thing that he can be very confident of is that his friends love him for who he is and not what he looks like. No one hangs around an ugly guy with no money and no drugs because of fringe benefits. Therefore, if you meet an ugly guy that has heaps of friends, you have met one guy that has met this hypocritical and shallow educated world we live in head on, and triumphed.

These ugly guys that conquered the world have magnetism, because there is nothing that attracts like skin and outer beauty that this sick world considers to be worth more than gold. Their beauty is an inner beauty that cannot be bought, traded or copied. An ugly guy like this has a lot of real life questions he can answer for you and if you are lacking in love for yourself in areas of your life, most often he will have the key.

Let me say here, that I rarely meet people that I could ever call ugly, as I am connected to hearts and not the outer appearance in people.

We all like to say that it's not the looks of a person that counts, it's what's inside; the old “you can’t judge a book by its cover” theory. However, every advertisement selling us things has handsome people selling them and we spend a fortune trying to look good and a lot less money trying to become better people on the inside.

So here comes the true love

One day a truly stunningly beautiful girl meets an ugly guy at work. Let's just say he is studying at a university or some college and she is studying to become a psychologist.

He is washing dishes and busy working for $8.50 an hour and she is a waitress who keeps on adding dirty dishes to his bench with no room on it for anything else.  The whole floor is full of pots and he is going flat out. She gets upset with some of her customers sometimes, but he is always there with understanding and will even stop washing to console her and say:

"People want their own way in life and sometimes the meal and the way you serve them is not to their liking. Most times they are just taking something out on you because they have had a bad day and can find fault in something they didn't like in you or the food. They are simply dumping on you. Don't worry about it," he smiles. "You dump dishes down on me all the time and even when I am busy I have the time to give you a hug and chat, and do you see me complaining? No. That's because this is my job here to wash dirty dishes and make un-appreciated waitresses feel better." Once again he is smiling and he turns back to the dishes. The waitress walks out smiling feeling happier, and happy he is such a giving and positive workmate.

When they have a beer together after the restaurant is closed and after he has asked her about all her dreams and desires in life, and given her his input and his time, she may ask him what he wants to do in his life. He is a simple man. He simply wants to change people's hearts. His simplicity, honesty and creativity are three things that make this woman want to know him more and she is fascinated with how he says that he wants to do for people what she will be doing in therapy. Before long she is standing in front of him, packed with emotion, crying and within a month this woman and her dishwasher are in love, for all the right reasons. She does not see him as ugly and he does not look at her outer shell, and that's why that stunning girl dates that ugly guy.

Postscript.

This was one of the first things I wrote in February, 2010, but I was not sure that this would be something people would read; first, because it was long and second because of the topic. In fact, in my local shopping mall I struck up conversations with four women I did not know, an act of bravery in itself, and asked them if they saw the headline in a magazine, would they pick up the magazine and read it. The girls said yes and then told me I could not leave until I had let them read it.

I invite you to browse through my postings and see if another headline grabs you.

What Does Killing Do To Us?

There are few questions in this world that can generate a long, cold, hard stare like "Have you ever killed someone?" When people find out what I have done in my life, in particular the fact that I have carried a gun for most of my adult life, I occasionally get asked this question. Like a lot of veterans, I am a middle-aged, overweight, balding man now, but, like most middle-aged, overweight, balding veterans, I was once young, had hair, could bench press a Buick and was absolutely certain that I was at least ten-feet tall and bulletproof. This was compounded by the fact that I later became a police officer and continued the uniformed, gun-toting image.

First, let me say that I never killed a man while a police officer, in fact, I never even shot and wounded anyone. I did once shoot at a man, after he shot at me, but I missed...11 times. I missed on purpose, just wanting to make sure he did not stop running away long enough to take another shot at me. This is another story for another time.

In the military, I did shoot and kill...at least four times of which I am aware. There may have been more, but four of which I am certain. One aims, leads a little, squeezes the trigger, feels the recoil and the target collapses. Over a period of five months this occurred four times that I saw. The bodies were recovered and examined and they were most certainly and irretrievably deceased. I had killed them.

While I have a strange sense of guilt associated with their deaths, I am not particularly sorry, if that makes any sense. I know, in my heart of hearts, that that were it not for my killing these men, I would be dead or one or more of my men would be dead. The fact is they died so that others would live. Those that died were defined by the term enemy. They were part of a regular, uniformed army engaged in combat operations against the United States. There will be no war crime allegations, beyond those made by those that make such allegations in any combat scenario. These are more based on the general evil of war than the concept that killing can be justified within the confines of an armed political dispute. Karl Von Clausewitz said of war, "It is clear that war is not a mere act of policy but a true political instrument, a continuation of political activity by other means." In the truest sense, I was a pawn in a chess game played out on a countryside with real guns, real bullets and the specific want, need and heartfelt desire to kill the enemy before he killed me.

I can recall each shot, each kill, if you will. The first was in a jungle and it was being in the wrong place at the wrong time for both sides. The enemy was supposed to have pulled out long before we approached, but as usual some dumb SOB didn't get the word or was loafing. They were there when we got there. They had guns, we had guns and as enemies will do, we started shooting at each other.

When the firefight started, I initially performed true to my training. I picked up a point of fire and fired at that point while I sought cover, suppressing the incoming fire, allowing me to get to cover uninjured. I then trained my sights on where that point of fire had been and waited, one Mississippi...two Mississippi and there he was, popped up like a gopher from a hole. I already had my point of aim, so I adjusted and squeezed. The round fired. The recoil and noise were barely recognizable. The round hit the man's head, just above his right eye on the forehead. His head snapped back slightly, just before he fell. There was no massive transfer of energy like you see in the movies. He was not launched backward, was not knocked off his feet and there was no drama to it really. The bullet hit, went straight through his head, killing him and he fell straight down, never to move again.

There was no opportunity for reflection or thought, it was back to the training. Pick up another point of fire, another target, squeeze the trigger. Lather, rinse, repeat....

The second man was running across my line of sight from left to right. I raised the rifle barrel, moving the sight from behind the running man, catching the end of the barrel up to him, crossing just slightly in front of him. I then pulled the trigger twice and heard the "thwack" "thwack" of the impact with the side of his chest. He went down face first, the only thing allowing him to take two more steps was the momentum of his forward motion. He died within a minute due to two high-speed rifle rounds having perforated his right lung, heart and lodging in his left lung.

The third man I killed was a "sapper" that just screwed up. He had fallen and slid down a steep river embankment, more like a levy or dike, and into our compound. The guys on guard duty had him trapped at the back of the compound, running between 50-gallon empty fuel drums. The GI's were shooting at him like a carnival target, but no one could quite hit him. He had a weapon of his own and would fire a burst or two just to let us know it was not really a good idea to go in and get him.

I had been asleep in one of those bunkers within a bunker. My cot was surrounded by sandbags that covered around me to the height above my toes when I lay down. The gunfire got my attention. It sounded like a carnival shooting range, after all, and that is a bit unusual. I arose, put on my boots and in my skivvies walked to the area where all the commotion was. A sergeant told me of he situation. Irritated at having been disturbed from my slumber and the kinds of dreams only young men can truly enjoy, I grabbed an M79, 40MM grenade launcher and told the MP's to fire at the barrels they thought the sapper was hiding behind. When they did, the sapper ran across the area and hid behind another set of 50-gallon drums. I took aim with the 40 MM Grenade Launcher and fired. Three 50-gallon drums and the body of one North Vietnamese Sapper went about thirty feet into the air. The drums were dented and on fire, and the sapper dead, bleeding from the concussion of the high explosive blast. I gave the sergeant the M79 back and went back to bed, happy that the men would no longer be playing with that soldier like a cat plays with a mouse. Partly because I had been disturbed, party because I as appalled by the cruelty of young GI's.

The forth time is a situation that is part of a story that I will save for another time and deserves an entry all its own that I shall save for another time.

I do not find it particularly harsh to have done what I have done. I am really kind of ambivalent. I was doing my job the way I had been trained and it was the right thing to do. I only feel the subtle guilt that comes from wondering how I will be judged for eternity for my actions. I do not feel PTSD, I just did what I had to. If I felt I had to excuse myself in some way, I would simply explain that they were as ready to kill me as I was to kill them. They would have given me every opportunity to die for my country had I not allowed them to die for theirs first.

I no longer have dreams or nightmares about it, although I did for a few months after my first separation from service. I do have faded flashbacks of thought in my mind when I go to the pistol or rifle range. It is a part of my faded past and something I have come to grips with, but I do sometimes wonder how I will explain it to my Maker when the time comes.