England Days 7, 8 & 9

The next 3 days were big for the wife and Youngest-daughter; for me, not so much. Some of the wife's English relatives came to pick them up Monday morning and they went to Windsor Castle and several other places I can't remember. Of course I worked all day. They were nice enough to wait on my return that evening and we all went out to eat. Wife and I had another bland hamburger and chips and Youngest-daughter had chicken strips, all for a mere $65. Those people should be drawn and quartered for charging such outrageous prices for such tasteless food. And it wasn't like we went to some posh, multi-star foo-foo place; we were in a friggin pub!

Tuesday was a worrisome day for me. Wife rented a car early that morning and drove with Youngest-daughter to some other relative's homes about 2 1/2 hours away in Stoke-on-Trent. Another big day for them as they visited the house where my wife's mom grew up, saw the places she told the wife about when she was a kid, met more relatives and looked at pictures of her young mom and grandparents. The wife is not known as a good driver even in America so I had visions of her causing a mass pile-up trying to drive safely on the wrong side of the road. Evidently the concentration required resulted in her being cautious and she made it safely. She spent the night there so I had the bed to myself after another evening of uninspiring expensive food with a large group of people from work.

As I indicated before, we had lunch brought in by the client's food vendor each day so we could continue to work through. Unfortunately, they served the same exact thing every day - weird little dry finger sandwiches (pimento cheese on wheat was the best; little tiny shrimp on white the worst) with no mayo or mustard, hard, dry corn chips and mild "hot" sauce. The first day it wasn't so bad; the 2nd it was ok, but by the 3rd, we were getting pretty tired of them. The 1st day almost all were eaten; the 2nd day a few were left, and the 3rd, only about 1/2 were eaten. On the 4th day, people started verbally protesting and on the 5th, very few were eaten and a full revolt was imminent. Wednesday, our last work day, our host went down and requested they bring us something else. When we received those same sandwiches, we delivered them to a group of web developers (they'll eat anything if it's free!) and our host paid for us to eat in the cafeteria to avoid being beheaded by us peasants.

Wife and Youngest-daughter returned Wednesday evening, once again safe and without a scratch on the rental car. Yes, miracles still happen! It was raining hard and we had to pack for a 4:00 wake up to get to the airport the next morning so we decided to just get room service. Ham sandwich with a few potato chips and a salad with chicken strips wasn't bad - until I got the bill the next morning and found that in addition to the 17 Pounds for the food, they charged a 12.5% tip, a 3 Pound delivery charge and another 3 Pound charge for "tray pickup" - $40 for a room service ham sandwich and salad with chicken strips! Starting to get the picture? It was VERY expensive over there!

And so our trip was basically at an end. My team and I got a lot of work done and wife and Youngest-daughter enjoyed themselves immensely. Youngest-daughter can now go back to school having first hand knowledge in history and geography classes, plus the benefit of learning about a side of her family genealogy. I would judge the trip a success.
 

England Day 6

Sunday morning started with me hitting the snooze button when the alarm started buzzing at 6:00. A 2nd snooze assured we wouldn't make the 7:01 train into London. It did, however, assure time for a nice cup of coffee on the patio before heading out.

Outside the Sherlock Holmes Museum

After rousing the girls, we caught the 8:01 and a while later were standing outside the Sherlock Holmes Museum. Well done and pretty interesting place, even if it is for a fictional character. Wife and youngest daughter spent a long time in the souvenir shop next door. I found a bench outside and talked to a really nice family from New York for a while. Next stop was back to the Tower of London.

This turned out to be more of an adventure than intended. We had to take a tube across town and ended up getting lost and trapped underground. We kept following the signs saying "Way Out," but they all seemed to just lead to another station. It was very hot, we went up and down hundreds of stairs, and barely escaped before a death occurred in our family. Once above ground, polluted, but cooler air never felt so good.

Bloody Tower, built 1238 - 1272 in the Tower of
London complex. Numerous historical and
famous people were killed within these walls
which are rumored to be haunted.

The Tower of London was probably the most interesting site I visited during the whole trip. We spent about 2 1/2 hours there, exploring all of the towers, and just walking around taking pictures. It was very crowded and when we first got there, the line to see the crown jewels was about 2 hours long so we decided to skip that. However, just before we left, there was virtually no line so the girls got to see them while I decided to explore other areas on my own. Highly recommend if you ever make it to London.



Queen's House within the Tower of London where
Queen Anne Boleyn was held prisoner before she 
was beheaded. Guy Fawkes was also held prisoner
here before being hung, drawn and quartered. It is
reputed to be very haunted, especially by Boleyn
 who is said to walk around holding her severed 
head under her arm.

We really didn't get to see much else of note this day since we spent so much time lost underground and then spent a lot of time just walking and seeing different buildings and statues. We found another McDonalds so of course youngest daughter insisted on taking the opportunity for chicken nuggets. We wanted to see Windsor Castle, but ran out of time. It started raining, we were very tired, and I had to go to work the next day so we headed on back.

We arrived in Marlow on the 10:00 PM train and walked the 1/2 mile back to the hotel in heavy rain. London was interesting, crowded, and there was lots and lots of walking and standing in lines. I'm talking LOTS of walking! I was almost looking forward to going back to work just to be able to sit for a while - almost.

England Day 5

After 4 hours of sleep, I awoke bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Small problem; it was 3:00 AM. I squished the pillow, I tossed and turned, I counted sheep and ex-girlfriends. Finally, with thoughts of a particularly boring and homely ex drifting around my head, I fell back asleep about 5:00. It was a good, deep sleep - until the alarm went off at 6:00. Bright-eye and bushy-tail was dead. But I managed a zombie walk into the shower and let the water bring me around.

Paddington Station

We made it to the station with a few minutes to spare and boarded the 7:01 train. We purchased a Family Pack, which allowed us to ride any train, subway, or bus all day. Cost 32.80 Pounds - about $52 in real money. After changing trains at Maidenhead, we made it to Paddington Station where we were to catch the tube that would stop at Buckingham Palace. It was then we discovered the Central Line, the one we needed, was "shut" all weekend for repair work. Fortunately, the wife figured out an alternative way and after several more rides, we emerged above ground at The Green Park.

After walking a short distance through the park, there it was, Buckingham Palace - and about 30,000 people! We walked up as close as we could get, but were stopped about 100 yards away and across a road with cars whizzing by. The road was now roped off to pedestrians so we found a little open spot "on the front row" and looked around. After a while when nothing was happening we thought we had missed the Changing of the Guard ceremony so we were about to leave, but first I brought out my Nikon 300MM lens and took a few photos. Then we heard someone say the ceremony was about to start and would come by right in front of us. The crowd was rather large behind us by then and we had to fight off one particularly determined Indian lady who tried to push her way into our spot. I couldn't believe this "lady." She stepped on my toes twice, kept bumping into me much firmer than if it was by accident and eventually pushed her arm in front of me and tried to force me to get behind her. Several times while she was doing all of this I tried to politely get her to stop by saying, "Excuse me" and "Ma'am, please stop." Nothing worked. I finally grabbed her by the shoulder, got in her face and forcefully told her to back off. She retreated and the next time I looked over she was gone.



Changing of the Guards ceremony at
Buckingham Palace

The ceremony itself turned out to be a bit anti-climatic. Guards on horses rode in, the band marched in, guys on foot marched in, the band marched out, guys on horses rode out, and men on foot marched out. End of ceremony. Glad we got to see it so we can say we did, but it didn't live up to the expectations in my mind.

After it was over, we saw Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, then headed toward the London Eye, a 443 foot Ferris wheel located on the banks of the River Thames. The wife had purchased tickets the night before so we wouldn't have to wait in line. Good thing as there were about 1,000 people waiting to buy tickets and only about 100 in the pre-purchased que. After getting to the counter, they didn't have a record of our purchase. I was having rather unkind thoughts as I contemplated standing in the ticket line which now had about 2,000 people in it, but the helpful clerk agreed to let us buy our tickets from him. We found out later the credit card the wife used had been frozen for fraud alert. Somebody in London was trying to use her credit card! A quick call to let them know it's us trying to use our card solved that problem.

Big Ben from ground level.

After an interesting 3-D show and waiting in another long line, we boarded the ride. Pretty darn cool ride. All of London was laid out in front of us. I didn't ask the wife how much it cost and still don't know, but it was probably worth it.

From there, it was a short walk to catch the boat for a River Thames cruise. I really enjoyed that also. The guide was informative and amusing as we passed by many landmarks and under numerous famous bridges.

Big Ben, London and River Thames from the
top of the London Eye.

By now it was long past lunch and the youngest daughter was allegedly about to die of hunger. As we walked the streets, what to our wandering eyes did appear? McDonalds! Since youngest daughter has single-handedly kept afloat McDonalds stock, there was no way we were getting around it. And to show how bland I found the food over there, that Big Mac was the best burger I had the whole time. Sad.

We hopped a double-decker bus and took a tour of London. It wasn't as good as the river cruise because it just had a rather bland, recorded spiel describing the famous sites, but we did manage to get upper, open-air seats and it was fun seeing buildings and places I had heard about over the years. We stopped at a couple of places to look around and then just hopped on the next bus since they come around about every 15 minutes. Nice.

Tower Bridge over the River Thames on a
very overcast day.

We hopped off the bus to visit the Tower of London and found that it's a 2 - 3 hour tour and was past the time they let anybody in. So we saved that for the next day and just walked around the outside walls. It was getting dark and we were tired from all of the walking and standing in queues so we headed to the subway for the trip back. Of course the map we had wasn't detailed to the individual street level so there were several false starts and standing around street intersections trying to figure out where the heck we were. During our little unintended walking tour, we came across the Sherlock Holmes Museum. Youngest daughter was very excited as she is a big fan. Unfortunately, it was closed. So was the official London Beetles Store across the street. More for tomorrow.

We finally made it back to Marlow on the 11:01 PM train and fell in bed about 12:15. Set the alarm for 6:00 again and looked forward to another day of adventure in London. And for the first time since arriving, I slept soundly and all the way through the night. Blissful.
 

England Day 3 & 4

My favorite statue - in downtown Marlow

Not a lot to say about days 3 and 4 as they were very much like day 2 - a lot of work. I would meet up with the client folks in the hotel for breakfast about 7:15 each morning. Always got the buffet because that was the cheapest thing - 10 Pounds; about $16.20. It certainly was not worth that much. I've had better food at inexpensive hotel's free breakfast. The coffee was served in little bitty white porcelain cups and was very bitter. I suppose it's an acquired taste, but even the UK folks said it wasn't very good. A bowl of corn flakes, several pecan rolls or those little fruit rolls, some fruit slices, and toast with little bottles of various jams. The toast was the best part of the meal. Several times the UK folks ordered off the menu - usually fried mushrooms or poached eggs (nothing else, just poached eggs) or kippers (herring or male salmon fish.) Ordering off the menu added another 5 - 7 Pounds. Almost $28 for that buffet and 2 poached eggs? Can you say ripoff?!

The best part of the morning was when we arrived at the office where there was the UK version of Starbucks in the lobby. We always got a big cup of good coffee to take into the meetings. If you take cream in your coffee like I do, it's called "a white." The two guys with me didn't take cream so each morning we ordered, "2 blacks and a white." And every afternoon about 3:00, "2 blacks and a white."

The client brought in lunch each day and it was the same rather tasteless little finger sandwiches with thick chips and very bland "hot" sauce. Friday was the 3rd day in a row we had those things and it was beginning to get old already.

Wrapped up each day about 6:30 or so. Went out with the client folks Thursday evening for supper. We found a Mexican café and, considering I'm from Texas and love Tex-Mex, it was surprisingly decent. Not real good, just better than expected. Still shocked at the prices. No chips and hot sauce, tap water to drink (with 2 ice cubes - they are really stingy with the ice!), and just a burrito plate cost almost 15 Pounds, close to $25. Much better food and more of it would be about $10 at home.

Friday, I told my guys they were on their own. Wife and youngest daughter were still out running around. Finally, some peace and quiet! Time for a much needed nap. I had just gotten my pillow squished right and settled in when the room phone rang. It was the wife's cousin calling to confirm their plans for next Monday. Laid back down, squished the pillow, got all snuggled in, and the wife called to tell me they were on their way back. Grrrr. Abandoned any hope of a nap, got on the computer and answered my backlog of emails.

At least by then I was pretty much acclimated to the time change so managed to get to bed and asleep about 11:00 (being totally worn out helped, I'm sure). Set the alarm for 6:00 AM so we could catch the early train into London and finally into dreamland I crashed.

England Day 2

After about 4 hours of fitful sleep, the wake up call roused me at 7:30, my body screaming that it was only 1:30. I stumbled into the shower and turned the water on full blast. It never got past luke-warm, but the hotel provided some great shampoo. Pulled the towel off the warmer rack, cold because I had yet to figure out how to turn it on. Eventually I made it down to meet my work companions in the hotel restaurant for breakfast. The American contingent looked as bad as I felt, but the UK folks from the Manchester office who were also staying in the same hotel appeared chipper and ready to get to work. Evidently not traveling out of your normal time zone makes things a lot better. I was just glad we had had the foresight to schedule the first day's meeting at 9:00 rather than 8:00 to give an extra hour to those of us who had just lost 6.

Four of us crammed into a car about the size of a VW Bug and one of the UK people drove us to the office. We were told the reason everyone has small cars with stick shift is not just because of the little roads, but also because gas here cost about $8 per gallon! We decided not to complain about our $2.50 per gallon prices back home. The office was only 15 minutes away, but the ride was sure interesting. Not only do they drive on the wrong side of the road, but cars park in the street of the barely-big-enough-to-call-it-2-lane roads so we kept having to either wait for oncoming cars to get past or drive on the sidewalk. I tucked that fact in memory for when we walked around town.

The weather was a bit on the cool side, low 60's in the morning and low 70's for the high, which was a very welcome change from the 100+ we had been enduring back home.

We finally finished the first day of meetings at 6:30 and surprisingly, with the help of numerous cups of coffee, I only had to stand up and move around once during the day to stay awake. After getting back to the hotel, changing into jeans and grabbing my camera, wife, and youngest daughter, we met up with the two American guys on my team who had also made the trip and went walking around Marlow until we found an Italian restaurant that was crowded. Figuring that was a sign that it was good food, we entered and were seated by a very nice looking waitress. The food was decent, nothing to rave about, but we had a good time talking and just being excited about being in London. Wife and youngest daughter talked about what they had seen and done that day, which was interesting seeing as how the working stiffs had so far only seen the hotel, several miles of very, very crowded little bitty streets, and the few blocks we had walked getting to the restaurant.

We discovered that when it comes to eating, the Brits eat late and evidently linger over dinner. To us, the service, although friendly, was very slow. We also discovered they don't serve free water in a glass here. If you want water, you buy bottled mineral water. And you have to tell them whether you want "still" water or "sparkling" (carbonated) water. It doesn't come in plastic bottles; it's in heavy glass bottles. Food prices are about the same as in America.Our waitress seemed very surprised by our request to get seperate checks. She finally said she would have to ask the manager if they could do that. She returned later and said no, they can only give one ticket per table. Interesting.

After our enforced leisurely dinner, we made our way back tot he hotel, stopping along the way at an ATM machine to get pounds and pence. Not a very good exchange rate now, about $1.65 for 1 Pound.

Strange license plates - strange to us anyway.

Once back in our room, we set about figuring out how to make things work. I turned on the shower to see if the water would get hot, thinking the hotel just ran low on hot water in the morning when everyone was using it. Nope, still wouldn't get hotter than luke warm. I finally found a little button you have to push on the faucett to get it to turn further and was almost instantly rewarded with water hot enough to boil in! The toilets are a bit strange too. The tank is in the wall. I thought at first that it was just our fancy hotel, but found out during the day that no, all of them are like that. The flush handle is opposite from ours too; it's on the left side. It didn't seem to flush very well, just a gentle flush that took several times to flush poop. Finally figured out that one flush of the handle is for "number 1"and you rapidly turn the handle twice for a full-force flush to handle "number 2." That's a pretty neat way to save water. We finally found a little light switch on the wall outside the bathroom which turned on the towel heating rack. One other thing that is interesting - to get the lights to turn on, you have to insert your room card key into a little slot just inside the door and leave it in. When you take it out as you leave, the lights automatically all turn off. In spite of our best efforts, we couldn't figure out how to make the A/C work so we just opened the windows.

After answering a couple of emails, downloading the few pictures I had taken and uploading one with a post on Facebook, I fell into bed and tried to get to sleep. In spite of being dog-ass tired and the clock saying it was 11:15, my body was saying it's only 5:15 so once again, I couldn't get to sleep. The last time I looked at the clock before finally passing out, it was 1:30. Marvelous. Just 4 1/2 hours until another full day of meetings start. And my first full day in England thus came to an end. Not very exciting.

England Day 1

Almost 2 years ago, my employer requested I get a passport for possible travel to our offices in England and other overseas locations. Shortly after I received said passport, some damn bean counter in the Ivory Towers decided the company not only didn’t have the money to send me out of the country, they didn’t have the money to keep me employed. Along with millions of others who suffered the same fate in this latest financial depression, I found myself unemployed. I consider that time as "Retirement Practice" and discovered my true calling in life!

Fast forward a year and the bean counter decided they now had enough money to re-employ me. Now eight months later, I find myself on a business trip to England . After adroitly jumping through several daunting hoops and enduring a couple of start/stops (very frustrating, but not worth elaborating on), my better half and youngest daughter were able to join me.

Now and even as a kid, I never needed much sleep – 5 or 6 hours seems to do me just fine and I really enjoy sitting outside with a cup of coffee, watching the sun come up, the birds start chirping, and the rest of the world waking up. I never sleep well the night before a trip due either to excitement of going somewhere I’ve been looking forward to or because I’m afraid of being late for a flight. I’ve never missed a flight, but the fear is there still so I keep waking up every hour, looking at the clock and telling myself how stupid I’m being. Of course, I usually manage to calm down and fall into a deep sleep about 30 minutes before the alarm goes off and have to claw my way out of an enjoyable dream. The grating blare of the alarm going off at 3:00 AM was particularly jarring because I knew I had to rely on wife and youngest daughter to get their butts out of bed and in the car no later than 4:00. Luckily, this turned out to not be a problem. My wife’s mum is from England and married wife’s father and came to America after WWII. Since youngest daughter became old enough to realize there is more to the world than just her neighborhood, her mom has told her stories of England, king and queen, prince and princess, beautiful castles, and her relatives who live in England so she has wanted to make a trip there for the last 5 or 6 years, over half of her life. At 3:01, I was walking to her room to wake her up and she met me in the hall, mostly awake and fully dressed, having slept in the clothes she was going to wear. She assisted with quickly getting her mom up and having put the luggage in the car the previous night, we actually pulled out of the driveway 5 minutes early with coffee in one hand and tickets and passports in the other.

In a most remarkable stroke of luck, after arriving at the airport, we found an empty parking space on the 2nd floor right across from the elevator in the parking garage. I see different cars parked in those slots every time I’m there so I did suspect one would be available occasionally , but it was just a theory as I’ve never before encountered an empty slot by the elevators and usually have to park 100 yards away, either dragging my luggage to the elevator or manhandling it down the stairs.

Continuing on with the great travel day theme, we made it through security with no problems and our 6:00 AM flight actually took off at 5:55, arriving in Chicago 10 minutes early and giving us plenty of time to make the trek to our connecting gate. When walking down the gangway to board the plane, there was a group of security officers who were pulling people out of line and asking questions. They had an African-American lady to the side and I heard her accuse them of only choosing her because she was black. I thought that was a bit amusing as just 3 feet away they had pulled out a white guy also and he was calmly answering why he was traveling to England . As I walked by, one of the officers told her, “If you think you will board this plane without answering our questions, you are wrong, so if you want to get on this flight, I suggest you just answer the questions.” As I went around the corner, she was silently glaring at him and he was determinedly glaring back. Evidently at some point she decided to answer the questions since shortly before takeoff she passed by our seats on the plane, head down and looking mad. A few minutes later, the door was closed and off we went. More good luck as there were a number of empty seats so youngest daughter moved to claim a first row seat right in front of the TV screen, thus giving dear old dad several open seats to lay across and take a nap. A nice surprise we found was that on international flights, along with a movie and TV shows, pillows, blankets, and several meals were provided.


Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean

The flight, while long, was smooth and uneventful, landing 15 minutes early. When we first saw lights below, we thought it was England , but a map appeared on the TV screen showing the plane’s location and we discovered we were actually over Ireland . Geography lesson – Ireland is west of England. 45 minutes later we landed at Heathrow. It took about 30 minutes to get our passports stamped and admitted into the country. The immigration officers were professional and efficient, but did not appear to have even a slight sense of humor and I think that’s how it should be.

The Compleat Angler Hotel in Marlow, England

Our very courteous and friendly driver was waiting with a van and within a few minutes after retrieving our bags, we were on the way to our hotel, The Compleat Angler, in Marlow, a suburb of London. Other than the very unnerving experience of traveling on the wrong side of the road, the drive was uneventful and checking into the hotel was straightforward. It was midnight UK time when we entered our room. After figuring out how to operate light switches, how to flush the toilet (an interesting story for next time), and checking out our balcony which overlooks the Thames River, we piled into our beds, tossed around for a bit, but were asleep by 1:30 AM (7:30 PM Central time US). My first morning of work would begin 5 hours later. Did I tell you I don’t need a lot of sleep? Good thing. The time change is a killer!

Frightening

In less than 2 weeks, I'll be going to London on a business trip so today, I stopped off at the AT&T store to inquire about temporary international calling & receiving of emails on my Blackberry. It was very frightening. Not the cost for getting the service, rather the person who attempted to help me. After patiently waiting for 15 minutes, a young lady, probably in her mid to late 20's called my name and said she would assist me. The following is a totally accurate and factual account of our conversation.

AT&T Rep: Hello. My name is Showanda. How can I help you today?

Me: I'll be traveling to London, England on a business trip and need to know how I can get international service on my Blackberry.

AT&T Rep: OK, I can help you with that. (she started typing into a computer screen for a few seconds) And what state is London in?

Me: What state? (smiling) I believe it's current state is cool and rainy.

AT&T Rep: No, I mean which state is it in?

Me: As in which United States state?

AT&T Rep: Right.

Me: It's not in the United States. If it was, I wouldn't need international service. It's in England.

AT&T Rep: England?

Me: (with eyebrows furrowed and head cocked to the side) You know, the English Channel, Winston Churchhill, God Save the Queen?

AT&T Rep: (blank stare)

Me: Across the ocean? Great Britain?

AT&T Rep: (types some more on her computer) I don't show any England or Great Britain. Is it Russian or something?

Me: (after about 5 seconds of stunned confusion during which my mouth was moving, but I was totally unable to speak) Perhaps I need someone else to help me.

AT&T Rep: I can help you. I just need to find it on my screen.

Me: Try United Kingdom.

AT&T Rep: No, no United Kingdom.

Me: UK?

AT&T Rep: Oh, you're right! Here it is. Wow, I've never heard of somewhere named UK before. London, UK?

Me: Really? Are you just messing with me?

AT&T Rep: No sir.

Me: Am I on Candid Camera or being punked or something?

AT&T Rep: What?

Me: Never mind. Just tell me, do I need a Sim card or is this just a service that can be turned on or what?

AT&T Rep: No, you don't need a Sim card. You can just turn on the service. It will be $59.95 for calls or $99.95 for a data plan so you can get your emails. Do you want me to do that now?

Me: That's for a month, right? I'll only need it for 10 days.

AT&T Rep: But you want to get your emails, don't you?

Me: Right. Um, thanks, but I believe I'll call and get it turned on just before I leave.

AT&T Rep: Here's my card. If you'll call me, then I can do that for you.

Me: OK. Thanks.

Here it is almost 8 hours later and I continue to be stunned, confused and unbelieving. I know I'm in Arkansas, but still...

No way will I be calling her to do anything. And if I see her on the sidewalk I'll cross the street due to fear of stupid somehow leaking  on me. I think you are supposed to have at least a high school diploma to work in an AT&T store. If so, then either she lied or a high school diploma isn't what it used to be or should be. For the sake of my youngest daughter who is still in school and the future of America, please God, let her be a liar.

Backroads

I'm starting to get that old "On The Road Again" calling. I love traveling the blue highways, the backroads of America, seeing things and meeting people the interstate travelers don't. For me, it's not about getting from Point A to Point B; it's about what's between Point A and Point B. I like to eat in places named "Aunt Bertha's" and "Bubba Jack's Almost World Famous Barbeque," served by Lucille who has been a waitress there for 32 years and calls me "Hon." I always leave Lucille a generous tip.

And I want to photograph the places and faces. The beauty that is America. The places that make you sit quietly and just be. Old faces that accompany the stories; lined with a lifetime of living and surviving. Young faces full of innocence and trust; children who have yet to learn life is sometimes tough, dogs sometimes bite, and not all grownups are good people. I'm not sure what, if anything, I'm looking for. Perhaps it's my own innocence, lost long before it should have been. And maybe I'm looking into the face of my own future, wondering if anyone will remember me and mourn my passing. As long as there are pictures of someone, they live.

Hell, maybe it's just something I love to do and there really is no hidden meaning; it's just a part of me and who I am. All that really matters is that call of the open road I have to answer. Guess it's time to figure out a Point B.
 

Freedom

Today is the 4th of July, the day America celebrates our freedom. And I'm a little sad. And a whole lot afraid. I think most people still feel patriotic on this day. Some may even shed a tear of pride when the fireworks explode overhead and a band plays America The Beautiful and God Bless America. But I'm sad because I don't think most people really understand what it took to win our freedom and what it takes to keep it. And they don't fully appreciate the ones who paid the price - the individual soldiers, sailors, and airmen. And with the way things are going now, I'm very afraid our way of life, America's very soul, is being lost. It seems we no longer have the will or the fortitude it takes to win a war. We certainly have the means, just not the guts. No longer are the enemies of America afraid to take us on. It is us that has become afraid. Afraid of unleashing our weapons and soldiers on our enemies until they, their supporters, their friends and even their goats, sheep and dogs are dead or have surrendered and there is no one left to fight; afraid of expecting immigrants to learn to speak English; afraid of letting the lazy go hungry; afraid of not giving murderers and child rapist more "rights" than their victims. Yes, I'm very afraid for America. We have forgotten that we can't buy off our enemies no matter how many billions of dollars we give them. We have forgotten that you can't buy democracy and freedom. It has to be earned and paid for by the people who are willing to give up their lives in the fight for it - individual soldiers, sailors, and airmen.

A Soldier Died Today

by A. Lawrence Vaincourt

reprinted by permission

He was getting old and paunchy and his hair was falling fast,

And he sat around the Legion, telling stories of the past

Of a war that he had fought in and the deeds that he had done,

In his exploits with his buddies; they were heroes, every one.

And tho' sometimes, to his neighbors, his tales became a joke,

All his Legion buddies listened, for they knew whereof he spoke.

But we'll hear his tales no longer for old Bill has passed away,

And the world's a little poorer, for a soldier died today.

He will not be mourned by many, just his children and his wife,

For he lived an ordinary and quite uneventful life.

Held a job and raised a family, quietly going his own way,

And the world won't note his passing, though a soldier died today.

When politicians leave this earth, their bodies lie in state,

While thousands note their passing and proclaim that they were great.

Papers tell their whole life stories, from the time that they were young,

But the passing of a soldier goes unnoticed and unsung.

Is the greatest contribution to the welfare of our land

A guy who breaks his promises and cons his fellow man?

Or the ordinary fellow who, in times of war and strife,

Goes off to serve his Country and offers up his life?

A politician's stipend and the style in which he lives

Are sometimes disproportionate to the service that he gives.

While the ordinary soldier, who offered up his all,

Is paid off with a medal and perhaps a pension small.

It's so easy to forget them for it was so long ago,

That the old Bills of our Country went to battle, but we know

It was not the politicians, with their compromise and ploys,

Who won for us the freedom that our Country now enjoys.

Should you find yourself in danger, with your enemies at hand,

Would you want a politician with his ever-shifting stand?

Or would you prefer a soldier, who has sworn to defend

His home, his kin and Country and would fight until the end?

He was just a common soldier and his ranks are growing thin,

But his presence should remind us we may need his like again.

For when countries are in conflict, then we find the soldier's part

Is to clean up all the troubles that the politicians start.

If we cannot do him honor while he's here to hear the praise,

Then at least let's give him homage at the ending of his days.

Perhaps just a simple headline in a paper that would say,

Our Country is in mourning, for a soldier died today.

Buddies

This one is for my Navy buddies who always had my back, even when I didn't know I needed it.

The difference between civilian friends and Veteran friends:

Civilian friends get upset if you are too busy to talk to them for a week.
Veteran friends are glad to see you after years have gone by and will happily carry on the same conversation you were having the last time you were together.

Civilian friends will leave you behind if that's what "the crowd" is doing.
Veteran friends will kick the crowd's ass that left you behind.

Civilian friends are for a while.
Veteran friends are for life.

Civilian friends have shared a few experiences with you.
Veteran friends have shared a lifetime of experiences no citizen could ever dream of.

Civilian friends will take your drink away when they think you've had enough.
Veteran friends will look at you stumbling all over the place and say, "You'd better drink the rest of that before you spill it!" and then carry you home safely and put you to bed.

To all my veteran friends, thanks for being my buddy. I love you, man.

Why?

Why am I doing this blog? Just something new to do? No, I've got plenty to do. And on the rare occasions I don't, I take a nap. If I really dig down deep and think about the basic reason, it's probably because I'm getting older and struggling with that fact. I'm in transition from the young, athletic, I'm-going-to-live-forever and achieve all my goals bon vivant party guy that I still am in my mind to the old fart that I'm all to quickly becoming. I now wake up with little hitches in my get-along that take a while to work themselves out. I have a bum left wing that hurts when I try to move it backwards. I can no longer outrun my daughter or make a spectacular diving catch in the outfield. Falling 4 feet now hurts like hell. My stomach yells "Knock it off!" when I eat too much hot sauce. I've suffered the pain of friends and family dying. And horror of horrors, I no longer think of sex every waking moment. Oh God, it's true, I'm a Senior!

This mortality awareness has been creeping into my consciousness over the last couple of years, building and gaining strength. And now that I'm barreling toward 60 years of living, my middle age crisis has firmly taken hold. I never really paid attention to age before. I always had to stop and do the math when asked how old I was. When I turned 40, ha ha, no big deal. Great excuse to have a good party and close down a club. At 50, woo hoo, I made half a century - put your sexy dress on Darling, it's time to party! But at 55, things started to change. 55? How about that. Let's go out to eat at El Fenix and get back home at a decent hour before the crazy drunks get on the road. On my last birthday, we watched a movie on TV and were in bed asleep by 11:00. And I was good with that.

What happened to the old me? Where did "I" go? I don't like being in small places. No great fear of it, I just much prefer openess; room to move around, room to feel free. I was born, raised, and spent the great majority of my life in Texas and can't stand the idea of not spending eternity nestled within her borders. So when I die, there will be no cramped coffin for me. I will be cremated and my ashes blown away by the wind in my beloved Texas. With not even a headstone, will there then be no trace of me? Will I have lived, loved, cried, laughed, died and yet not made some kind of difference? Like most people, I thought I was different from most people, so I'm surprised it's my turn to be confronted by the age-old question, "What is the meaning of life?" Looks like I'm not so different after all.

I won't go down in the history books. I didn't change the world. The government will have my name on the rolls of military people who served in Viet Nam, but my name is just one of thousands and thousands. I think of my wife. If I go first, I prefer to believe she'll be sad for a while. And maybe a few friends will mourn my passing before going back to work or planning their next vacation or playing bingo. And then I think of my children. And maybe that's the answer.

I have two grown and one still growing. My adult children are good people living productive lives with families and friends that love them. I was divorced from their mom when they were young, but I stayed in their lives and like to think I had at least a small positive influence. I have a grandson; a very intelligent and talented young man who is being raised with proper values and a lot of love. And my still growing child is a really great kid who is being taught good moral values, given a good compass to guide her through life, and I am desperately trying to provide her a good example. I pray when she is older, she can smile, remembering what a great childhood she had. I hope when she is confronted by the millions of decisions one has to make in life, she asks herself, what would Dad have wanted me to do.

Maybe that's the answer. Maybe that's the purpose of my life. Not for everyone, but my own purpose for the life I've had. The way I can leave one dusty track in the sands of time.