4 Reach

Location: California, United States

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Meditation of Copious Emotion

Hello All,

Love seeketh not itself to please,
Nor for itself hath any care,
But for another gives its ease,
And builds a Heaven in Hell's despair.
-William Blake

Conserving the tomb of culture and lore,
Form thee Drys with their word and swore;

Weid a future and dismiss confusion,
In thee heart will see no illusion;

The Yeats’ word of 'Deirdre' through time shall play,
Integrity lost- Knights perish away;

In her love is Heaven’s repair.

Love is:
More sought than truth-
More valuable than gold-
Hidden in youth-
Infinite to hold.

Be Safe,


Sunday, May 27, 2007

Otto, Revisited

Hello All,

On this Memorial Day Weekend I find myself again thinking of Otto and Viola. They continue resting well on this magnificent day, perfect for the visit because I’ve not sat with them for some time.

They entered my mind lately due to a number of reasons, primarily from this holiday and recent thoughts of my heritage. The mischief of this Red-Headed Irishman prolongs the smile on my face and the laugh in my heart; quite the joker, Otto is known in this small town for any number practical jokes. I like to think he is the foundation of my positive attitude through adversity.

On the day my Mum brought my Dad home to meet the family, Otto asked without a wince, “Ever seen a mongoose?" With curiosity and a desire of meeting the real people of this family my Dad said, “Nope, you got one?”

First point in tactics, if any Irishman ever asks you to see the unusual- be apprehensive before answering!

Otto replied, “Certainly, got 'em out in the wood shop 'cause Mum won’t let 'em in the house.” The two men walked out the door on their way to the wood shop while my grandmother barked, “Now Otto! Do you have to do that now? The young man just got here.” Otto responded, “This’ll only be a minute”, as the two continued their way around the house heading toward the back corner of the property.

The young man, Henry (but everybody called him Tim), was tall, handsome, and the US Navy taught him to live without fear- That is, until he met Otto.

In the out most rear portion of the land stood a small, narrow, tool shed painted white and contained all the required apparatus for the various wood projects Otto employed. Inside this small tool shed was a single path from the entry to the rear; the left side along the entire wall was a well built, sturdy work bench; while the right side stored the power tools and not much room for anything else. “Close the door behind you, Tim, we wouldn't want this critter get out- Mom’ll have my hide”, Otto instructed. Tim, with all good intentions fell for this serious, but lovable Irishman and heeded every request; all the while, Tim never knew he was sealing his own fate by allowing Otto lead the way.

A Master Craftsman from a life on the farm, combined with every tool of the day and the spirit of a true Irishman, Otto pulled from the shelf a wooden box approximately three feet long, ten inches high and wide with a screen over half of the top. On the lid and sides of the box was the clearly obvious writing of warning, “Handle with Care”, “Danger Mongoose”, and “Do Not Open”. As he pulled it down, Otto had to hold the box tightly as it shifted in his hands before he placed it on the floor between the two men. Tim, standing toward the rear of the shop, had an escalating inquisitiveness over this creature he had only heard tales. “Now you be careful,” Otto said, “This here animal is the only thing that can catch a Cobra, mid-air, in a strike”, as he watched Tim’s face.

Tim leaned down for a closer look at this box to examine what lies behind the screen on the lid.

Under the screen Tim saw a bed of grass leading to a wall separating the inside of the box into two compartments. This wall made of wood had a small hole the animal could use as an entry into the private portion of its home and Tim could see a animal tail extending out, resting on the grass. “There really is something in here”, Tim stated with exciting amazement. Otto smiled and asked, “What did you think I brought you out here fur”? Otto continued, “He’ll come out, he just needs a little coaxin”, as he tapped the sides of the box.

No movement was all Tim noticed. Otto said, “Here, let’s try this again- so you watch closely.”

Tim drew closer to the screen, as Otto tapped slightly harder this time.

In a rush, the top of the box flew open and out came this fur-ball of a creature heading directly toward Tim’s head. Tim sprang to his feet and the animal’s path did not deviate. Out of reaction, Tim began to climb onto the work bench to his side and the animal was still quickly approaching. “What the Hell”, were the only words from Tim’s mouth.

In that immeasurable moment with Tim sitting on top of the work bench and Otto rolling on the ground laughing, two things happened- Otto knew this young suitor was perfect for his baby girl and Tim knew he needed to remain on his toes around this Red-Headed Irishman.

The box; made of wood, grass, a bed spring, a latch on the lid, and a piece of twine tied to a fake mink’s tail, was my Dad’s initiation into this Irish Clan. Otto, did not wait for the, in his words, “Howdy Do” in testing this young man.

Inside the main house two women waited nervously for the men and the outcome of being associated with Otto. Relief was found by all as the two men walked into the house laughing and ready for anything the night is about to present.

I think it is time for Otto and Viola to hear about Police cars and Golf Carts- Today; I’m going out there for a visit.

Be Safe,


Saturday, May 26, 2007

Of Inspiration II

Hello All,

As my sore body lay on the bamboo flooring of my hut made cell, I can see the shadows appear from the morning sun through the cracks in the walls. My mind begins to drift back to a time, I do not know how long ago. “I must never forget”, I keep reminding myself for the very second my memory fails, my sanity will follow; therefore, I must live in the past moment.

We awoke to sirens, alarms, and people yelling in their rush of immediate response. In my hurried state, I knew the need to be in the briefing room for an immediate departure as our planes were already late for battle front protection- American lives are at risk! Though many people call this a ‘Police Action’, it certainly feels like War to everybody here. In the pre-departure brief we learned of a new push from the North and our ground troops, no matter how hard they tried, could not stop the momentum of the enemy. Over the radios one could hear many voices with the same message, “Air Support”, they exclaimed!

In an instant, catapulting me back to the present I can hear the screams of agony in a distance and I knew this erroneous illusion built by my spirit for mental defense is no longer available. “You, Come”, a guard shouted as the door to my cell opened for this time I will join my friends. Inhibiting my rapid movement, the irons around my ankles and wrists facilitated my ever more diminishing health from these conditions. In the back of my mind, I knew this walk is the beginning of a situation no training would prepare and the only relief came in a thought of my shackles being removed. “Focus on the freedom”, I thought as every step tore my body further apart while breaking my spirit as I can see the destination before us.

The hut made of materials from the jungle had a guard, with hate in his eyes, standing on the porch by the door. The escorts threw my body onto the floor by the guard’s feet and I could feel the iron cut deeper in my skin from the punishment for falling down. My first view of the “Interview Room”, with a single chair in the center, came by way of a crack below the door while I tried to find the strength to stand during the beating. I knew I would not survive before the luxury of sitting in a chair. Somehow, I found my way during the repeated black outs and my body was seated in the chair, in the center of the room.

Without wavering, my interviewer pulled a pistol from the holster on his hip and placed the barrel to my head. I can feel the icy metal, with its sharp iron sites digging into my scalp on the sweaty and bloodied skin. In a perfect grasp of the English language he said, “You will tell me everything I wish to know.” “Resistance is not tolerated”, he continued while pushing the end of his weapon deeper into my skin. I remembered my training and how I was required to give only my Name, Rank, and Serial Number as I began to speak. Before my first word I was blinded from a white flash and my ears rang in pain as he pulled the trigger. My final thought was of my family, friends, and loved ones; my Comrades at Arms; and those sitting around their Barbeques on Memorial Day. This is a day of remembrance for those who gave the supreme sacrifice for our freedom.

In 1991, the Middle East is witness to another World Crisis and I am with my family grateful for three more days of life. I will never remember the details following that moment and how I survived, on that day nineteen years ago; however, I will always remember those who felt War worse than I. My son is away finishing his Military career and, as he likes to call it- “Playing in the Sand Box.” What I do know as I sit here in my civilian position - “Times are different and locations will change; I pray he does not feel War worse than I.”

2003, I remember my days of experience while talking with my son on this Memorial Day weekend, now 31 years later. Our conversation is on those people on the Television talking about right and wrong, justified and unjustified presence. My son is thinking of his son and how he is only beginning his Military Career and, as he likes to call it- “Playing in the Sand Box II”. The internet conversations with my grandson are welcomed and something we never knew in my day, it is good to know he is well. Then, my son said to me, “I’m happy those people on TV talking about this shit are safe and- never felt War, worse than I.”

Be Safe,


Thursday, May 24, 2007

Don't you just hate "Blonde" jokes?

Hello All,

A blonde woman was having financial troubles so she decided to kidnap a child and demand a ransom. She went to a local park, grabbed a little boy, took him behind a tree and wrote a note. "I have kidnapped your child. I am sorry to do this but I need the money. Leave $10,000 in a plain brown bag behind the big oak tree in the park at 7AM." Signed, "The Blonde."

She pinned the note inside the little boy's jacket and told him to go straight home. The next morning, she returned to the park to find the $10,000 in a brown bag behind the big oak tree, just as she had instructed. Inside the bag with the cash was the following note.

"Here is your money. I cannot believe that one blonde would do this to another."


A blonde was driving her brand new sports car out in the country when she noticed another blonde in a row boat, out in the middle of a grassy field. The blonde pulls her car over to the side of the road and yells, "Hey, Hey you", to the blonde in the boat.

With this, the blonde in the boat begins to row.

The blonde on the side of the road yells, even louder, "Hey, its blondes like you that give us all a bad name."

The blonde in the boat then begins rowing even faster.

On the side of the road, the frustrated blonde then yells, "And, if I knew how to swim I would come out there and kick your butt."

Thursday Thought,

Be Safe,


Tuesday, May 22, 2007


The Kanger confusion will happen in Southern California, also.


Be Safe,


Thursday, May 17, 2007

Never Fail to Dream

Hello All,

I remember as a child dreaming of aviation. At that age, I believed that I could be anything when I grew up. One week I wanted to be a pilot, then the following week my goal was a firefighter; my mind ran the full gambit of career goals. Then, the following Saturday I would take these dreams and set them aside for another time. I knew where I had placed them to keep.

As my life evolved, the opportunity to readdress each dream presented itself. With a better understanding of the various paths to accomplish each dream, I later found reasons to dismiss them and continue holding those I cherished. Yet, as I would check back into the places they were stored, I would also see the ones previously rejected. My point is simply stated, “even though the chance to live a dream never presents itself, you will never lose the dream.”

The key is to recognize the opportunity, fully knowing your desires and take every chance possible for the dream's realization.

This is my new place to stand; it is here, where my life is now.

I am happy,

Be Safe,


“There are people who put their dreams in a little box and say, Yes, I've got dreams, of course I've got dreams. Then they put the box away and bring it out once in awhile to look in it, and yep, they're still there.” - Erma Bombeck

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Of Inspiration I

Hello All,

I was inspired to write the following:

Slipping away into a hypnotic state, I see the night summer skies and marvel at the constellations. It is difficult to keep my eyes open as the warm air embraces my body and the serenity of life fills my soul. My mind travels to the places of this day, the events leading to this moment, and the joy that is mine. No place on earth could I ever hold the beauty that is now.

In my condition, I see the many steps leading to the peninsula and the Mediterranean beyond with an aqua color magnificently wrapping the white sands. I turn to you and see the breeze softly brushing your hair and forming the many patterns as to illustrate the freedom of our moment. With a gentle smile you say, “Let’s walk in the water” and immediately my mind takes us there.

The water is soothingly warm and the subtle grains of sand around our feet bring forward the knowledge of this being the perfect place and perfect time, with nobody else I could ever share. As the blue sky frames my vision of you, I know this is one moment no photograph could ever capture. I see you smile and I can only think that you are experiencing the same sensations as I, the joys of life and this place.

This place.

This place. Then a sense of reality sets in and that is not where I am. Was I dreaming? As I look around the room I know my mind was far from this place. The memory of this dream filling my being and my desire to return, and then I see you sitting before me, smiling. I see the beauty that is the true you within your eyes.

Your eyes.

Your eyes. Slipping away into a hypnotic state, I see the night summer skies and marvel at the constellations.


Tuesday, May 15, 2007

Golf Cart vs. Police Car

In the previous post, I had mentioned the “High-Speed” chase with local Officials and this sparked a few emails and desires for elaboration. Therefore, please bear with me as I set the stage:

In my early years of learning military aviation, my squadron held a regular Pacific Oceanic mission. Part of this mission included the frequent supply, re-supply, and equipping of Kwajalein Atoll. The mission was usually an operational stop where the crew would offload any passengers or cargo, then refuel the aircraft for the next flight and load any passengers or cargo prior to departing. Only two reasons the aircraft and crew would remain over night: 1) Aircraft malfunctions requiring heavy maintenance or parts; and, 2) Weather. The Island was right out of a dream, picture in your mind the perfect tropical island with only a mild populace- this is Kwajalein!

Known for their mischievously fun loving nature, military aircrews remain under close observation with many “Prior” warnings heeded and Kwajalein Atoll was no exception to the rule- even on this night. You see, Island life is basic and simple with no wild casinos, no bright night clubs, nor other late night industries. Landing the aircraft with a questionable maintenance problem; this story begins with the following question, “Would the crew take off with the problem, or remain over night until the appropriate materials and craftsmen arrive the next day?”

Following the decision to remain over night, the aircrew removed their luggage from their craft and checked into Billeting (Military Hotel). Requiring no automobiles, due to the size of the island, the crew was issued a fully charged golf cart. The crew decided to proceed to chow (food) followed immediately with a dip in the Salt Water Pool and more than a few alcoholic beverages from the local store. After the swim, one crew member, Paul, turned up drunk, and missing; but, he did leave behind one shoe (flip-flop) .

Leaving the pool, the group decided to meet back at the bar, so off to the rooms to for dry clothes. Driving the Electric Cart back to Billeting, the Security Police pulled everybody over and gave notification “The Carts are not permitted to be driven during dark hours”. The crew acknowledged and headed away to change. Nobody gave a second thought in returning with the Golf Cart to the bar, and again the crew was pulled over with the same warning. During the conversation, one patrolman mentioned the reason was due to the lack of headlights and the second returning escort began. Back at the rooms, the crew noticed Paul’s absence and decided to search the island for him. Two creative individuals brought out their Mag Lights and duct tape- the head light dilemma is now resolved. The search brought the crew further away from their rooms than previously planned and once again, the Security Police pulled the cart over. This time, the warning was clear- “Do Not Drive The Cart During Dark Hours.” And, everybody was escorted back to the rooms. Remembering Paul’s desire to see another location on the Island, the crew decided this is where the search should be conducted. Understanding this location as not regularly patrolled, again the Golf Cart was used to expedite the search for Paul- with no luck.

While driving the Cart around the base, the headlights of the Security Police cars gave notice of their location and direction. The game has now begun. Can the crew effectively find Paul, prior the Security Police discovering us, our cart, and the Mag light “fix”? For quite some time; yes, as the cart would enter an intersection, or turn, the area ahead was thoroughly scanned. Then, full throttle to the next check point.

Paul was discovered at the bar singing karaoke- without a karaoke machine, music, or microphone. The bartender requested his removal as they require shoes (plural). Paul’s argument maintained in replacing the single flip-flop onto the other foot; thereby, you guessed it, a set of shoes. After some discussion, Paul agreed in returning to Billeting and we departed. At the first corner, the Security Police were waiting for the cart and its operators. Let the races begin. At approximately five miles per hour, the Golf Cart was attempting to reach the Billeting before the Security Police Cruisers.

The Golf Cart was confiscated at the Billeting office, with the Officer’s admiration in our creativity, and the crew instructed of the night’s conclusion.

Be Safe,


Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Ten Things You Don’t Know

Hello All,
Following T.H's lead, here are my entries.

I miss flying, even though I am afraid of heights- Yes, I have Acrophobia! I can not stand on a ladder without holding on to something, but I love to stand outside of the aircraft while in flight.

I can do acrobatics flying spins, but I can not do the “Tea-cups” at Disneyland.

I have self-doubt until I get mad, then my tactful aggression achieves success.

I am an extremely loyal friend, sometimes to a fault.

Throughout my life, I have studied seven different styles of Martial Arts.

I have traveled to every continent except Antarctica.

My favorite vacation spot is an island, not too many people have familiarity-
Wake Atoll.
(This should be another post)

I was once pursued in a high-speed police chase, while I was in a golf-cart. (Again, another post)

I traded in one of my custom trucks for a new vehicle and when I saw the truck later at a used car lot, they were asking more than twice what I received for it. I’m still pissed about that one.

A good friend and I successfully hiked more than half of the
John Muir Trail.

And, finally, I don’t know how to count.

Be Safe,


PS. Let me know if these links do not work. Thank you

Saturday, May 05, 2007

Is That Contemptuous

Hello All,

As I was thinking a topic for this post, my mind drifted toward the more recent, and possibly debatable, news; and then, from the ludicrous returned to our roots.

Miss Paris Hilton’s contempt, or even mockery, of our legal system and those who actually hold authority in this nation simply feels above the law. Is it not amazing how money can manipulate any judgment? We, common citizenry, hear about celebrities purchasing penal favors. I believe this is their general attitude toward the law and not “folklore” for our ears. Miss Hilton’s mother, Kathy Hilton, made comments which are a prime example of my opinion. Driving without a license is an offense punishable by the law; especially, if the individual signs a document acknowledging and later repeats this offense. I consider an “Average Person” will not be afforded the second chance, plus Miss Hilton’s “blowing off” a court ordered enrollment in a substance abuse class! I say, “Thank goodness for any adjudicator who upholds the law without bias!” But, just how far should we take this? I mean, the Law is the Law, right?

Next we have the Simpson case, with Mr. Simpson Court Ordered to pay over $33 million to the Goldman family. With his Heisman Trophy seized as an asset, Simpson immediately left the state, repositioned his funds and never followed up on his judgment. You ask of his royalties- The State of California protects a person’s pension from being used to satisfy any judgment. Then, mocking the system arrived with his attempted publishing of a book illustrating how “he would have committed the crime.” I ask again, just how far should we take this?

Have we forgotten our basic rights? Or, have the Law Makers, who we have placed into power, experienced a memory lapse of their purpose? Do we truly remember the Preamble to the United States Constitution?

“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

What happened to “Establish Justice, Domestic Tranquility, and General Welfare”? I guess it depends as the pocket deepens.

Be Safe,