Old Ironsides

The U. S. S.. Constitution (Old Ironsides), as a combat vessel, carried 48,600 gallons of fresh water for her crew of 475 officers and men. This was sufficient to last six months of sustained operations at sea. She carried no evaporators (i.e. fresh water distillers).
However, let it be noted that according to her ship’s log, “On July 27, 1798, the U.S.S. Constitution sailed from Boston with a full complement of 475 officers and men, 48,600 gallons of fresh water, 7,400 cannon shot, 11,600 pounds of black powder and 79,400 gallons of rum.”
Her mission: “To destroy and harass English shipping.”Making Jamaica on 6 October, she took on 826 pounds of flour and 68,300 gallons of rum.
Then she headed for the Azores , arriving there 12 November. She provisioned with 550 pounds of beef and 64,300 gallons of Portuguese wine.
On 18 November, she set sail for England. In the ensuing days she defeated five British men-of-war and captured and scuttled 12 English merchant ships, salvaging only the rum aboard each.
By 26 January, her powder and shot were exhausted. Nevertheless, although unarmed she made a night raid up the Firth of Clyde in Scotland. Her landing party captured a whiskey distillery and transferred 40,000 gallons of single malt Scotch aboard by dawn. Then she headed home.
The U. S. S. Constitution arrived in Boston on 20 February 1799, with no cannon shot, no food, no powder, no rum, no wine, no whiskey, and 38,600 gallons of water.
GO NAVY

Paraprosdokians

A paraprosdokian is a figure of speech in which the latter part of asentence or phrase is surprising or unexpected in a way that causes thereader or listener to reframe or reinterpret the first part. It isfrequently used for humorous or dramatic effect, sometimes producing ananticlimax. For this reason, it is extremely popular among comedians andsatirists.

I asked God for a bike, but I know God doesn’t work that way, so Istole a bike and asked for forgiveness.

Going to church doesn’t make you a Christian any more than standingin a garage makes you a car.

The last thing I want to do is hurt you, but it’s still on the list.

If I agreed with you, we’d both be wrong. (I have to remember this one)

We never really grow up, we only learn how to act in public.

War does not determine who is right – only who is left.

Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; Wisdom is not putting it ina fruit salad.

Evening news is where they begin with ‘Good evening’, and thenproceed to tell you why it isn’t.

To steal ideas from one person is plagiarism; To steal from many isresearch.

A bus station is where a bus stops. A train station is where a trainstops. On my desk, I have a work station.

Dolphins are so smart that within a few weeks of captivity, they cantrain people to stand on the very edge of the pool and throw them fish.

I thought I wanted a career, turns out I just wanted pay checks.

A bank is a place that will lend you money, if you can prove that youdon’t need it.

Whenever I fill out an application, in the part that says “In anemergency, notify:” I put “DOCTOR”.

I didn’t say it was your fault, I said I was blaming you.

Why does someone believe you when you say there are four billionstars, but check when you say the paint is wet?

Why do Americans choose from just two people to run for president and50 for Miss America ?

A clear conscience is usually the sign of a bad memory.

You do not need a parachute to skydive. You only need a parachute toskydive twice.

The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some good ideas!

Always borrow money from a pessimist. He won’t expect it back.

A diplomat is someone who can tell you to go to hell in such a waythat you will look forward to the trip.

Money can’t buy happiness, but it sure makes misery easier to live with.

I discovered I scream the same way whether I’m about to be devouredby a great white shark or if a piece of seaweed touches my foot.

I used to be indecisive. Now I’m not sure.

I always take life with a grain of salt, plus a slice of lemon, and ashot of tequila.

You’re never too old to learn something stupid.

To be sure of hitting the target, shoot first and call whatever youhit the target.

Nostalgia isn’t what it used to be.

A bus is a vehicle that runs twice as fast when you are after it aswhen you are in it.

Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine.

Beaux

I have joined the ranks of the terminally stupid

Yep, i have become one of the people i have always said were too stupid to procreate. Every month at work we get a list of accidents that happened. We have dubbed that list the Darwin awards. People who do really stupid shit and get themselves hurt. Unfortunately, I have become one of those idiots, although at home, not at work.

Here is how the story goes. My daughter in law has been after me to adopt a dog. Since we got 4 acres, we have plenty of room. Finally i told her that if she found a Catahoula for adoption, i would adopt it. I figured the chances were slim and none of finding a Catahoula in West Texas.

Sure enough, she finds one. I was actually in Amarillo when she found him so she adopted him for me. I was to take ownership when i got home. According to adoption rules, she had to take the dog to the vet within 48 hours. While at the vet she called me and asked what i was going to name him. I had to name a dog i haven't seen. I decided to go with his heritage and named him Feet Pue Tan (Fee boo tan). I thought it was funny.

So here i am with a Catahoula, a big yard and no dog house. I put something together for him but it wasn't very good. As you know, we had temperatures in the single digits last week. I decided that on Saturday i was going to build a dog condo for my new best friend. We call him Beaux for short.

I enlist the oldest boy to help me out. We decided to build his condo in the old water well shed. The shed is constructed of cement board so it will keep the wind and moisture of the condo. $211 later, i have all the supplies i need to have a dog house with a living room and a bedroom and the entire condo will be heated along with a heated bed for him.

The condo currently has two rooms but one of them will be the sleeping quarters for the second dog i plan to get.

Anyway, we build a floor out of treated lumber and start building the walls. We insulate the walls with R-30 insulation and seal all cracks. Everything is going good until i accidentally put some 3" nails in the pneumatic air gun.

As i am building the roof, the air nailer jams up. I must add that i was already pissed off at this point. Beaux, the smart ass that he is, decided to make a run for it when i had the gate open. I had to chase his ass down on a UTV to catch him, not once but twice. I was plenty steamed when the air nailer jammed up.

I was jiggling the safety device and messing with the trigger when BAM, the nailer went off and i felt a sharp pain in my index finger. I look down and there is a 3" nail shot through my glove and index finger. I just starred at it with disbelief.

I walked out of the shed and oldest boy looked at it and thought i was joking around. When he realized i was serious, he looks at me and says "Damn, you want to go to the hospital?"

I said "No, I just need to pull it out".

Let me tell you all right now that pulling the nail out hurt a lot more than it did going in.

As with all puncture wounds, once the nail was removed, the bleeding began. After i got the bleeding under control and the wound bandaged, i finished up the condo. I liberally applied pain medication in the liquid form and hopefully there will be no infection.

So because i was mad, in a hurry, and not paying attention, I get a nail through the finger. Just goes to show that we need to keep our focus no matter what we are doing or where we are doing it.

Paying for the wicked we have done

Here is a simple yet complex question. How much good does a person have to do to repay for the wicked they have done?

Can we ever make good for the bad? I would guess that this question depends on the perspective of the person who was wronged. For example, can a killer make good with the family of a person he killed? Can a liar make good with the victim he lied to?

Obviously both examples are on each end of the spectrum, but the question still remains. Can we make good for our bad deeds?

Which leads us to further ask, when is the bad made good? Who makes that call? The victim? The family of the victim? or how about the person who is trying to reconcile the bad?

In my 43 years on this rock, i spent the first 17 years being a good boy with the exception of normal teenage crap. The next 15 or so years, i spent some time in the Navy and living a lifestyle that most would call, un-christian like. The last 11 years i have been trying to renew my faith, live a good life, and walk the path my religion says i should.

When i started bringing religion back into my life, i started finding deeper meaning, a purpose for my life, and started to understand the difference between love and lust. All this, in my opinion, has made me a better man. My religion helped me get through some of the darkest days of my life. I always knew there was a reason for what happened and at times i walked by faith, not sight.

But those 15 years sometimes haunt me. I tell people that i have not always been a nice person. I did things back then, that when i think of them now, it shames me for the way i acted and reacted to situations. So how do we make good or atone for those bad actions.

How do we take back all the hurtful things we have said to others? I don't know if there is an answer.

When we answer to God for our actions, do you think it is like a scale? With all the good on one side and the bad on the other? Or do you think it is a list and the good will never outweigh the bad? One way or the other, we have to pay for those bad deeds. Whether it is here in our lifetime or the after life. Atonement must be made.

The Protestants tell me that Jesus died on the cross that my sins may be forgiven. I ask Jesus to forgive me, all is forgiven, and i am on my way to Heaven. My Priest says it isn't that easy. My Priest tells me that Christ died on the cross for mankind as a whole, to re-open the gates of Heaven, and allow us by Faith and Works, to works towards the ultimate goal of reaching Heaven upon our death.

He gave me an example; Let's say your neighbor builds a new house. The house is beautiful and you are jealous of his good fortune. One night, you take a can of paint and throw it on the wall of your neighbors new house.

After a few days, you start feeling guilty, and you go tell your neighbor that you did it. You agree to paint that part of the house and bring back the beauty of the new house. Although the new paint job covers up what you have done, the stain of what you did will always be there. My Priest said that the stain is like sins on our soul. We may cover them up, but they are always there under the surface. On the day of our judgement, those stains will be revealed, and then we will have to answer for them.

In my opinion, unless the person you wronged truly forgives you, those stains will remain on your soul.

Two Marines

On Nov 13, 2010 Lt General John Kelly, USMC gave a speech to the Semper Fi Society of St. Louis , MO. This was 4 days after his son, Lt Robert Kelly, USMC was killed by an IED while on his 3rd Combat tour. During his speech, General Kelly spoke about the dedication and valor of the young men and women who step forward each and every day to protect us. During the speech, he never mentioned the loss of his own son. He closed the speech with the moving account of the last 6 seconds in the lives of 2 young Marines who died with rifles blazing to protect their brother Marines.
"I will leave you with a story about the kind of people they are...about the quality of the steel in their backs...about the kind of dedication they bring to our country while they serve in uniform and forever after as veterans. Two years ago when I was the Commander of all U.S. and Iraqi forces, in fact, the 22nd of April 2008, two Marine infantry battalions, 1/9 "The Walking Dead," and 2/8 were switching out in Ramadi. One battalion in the closing days of their deployment going home very soon, the other just starting its seven-month combat tour.
Two Marines, Corporal Jonathan Yale and Lance Corporal Jordan Haerter, 22 and 20 years old respectively, one from each battalion, were assuming the watch together at the entrance gate of an outpost that contained a makeshift barracks housing 50 Marines. The same broken down ramshackle building was also home to 100 Iraqi police, also my men and our allies in the fight against the terrorists in Ramadi, a city until recently the most dangerous city on earth and owned by Al Qaeda.
Yale was a dirt poor mixed-race kid from Virginia with a wife and daughter, and a mother and sister who lived with him and he supported as well. He did this on a yearly salary of less than $23,000.
Haerter, on the other hand, was a middle class white kid from Long Island . They were from two completely different worlds. Had they not joined the Marines they would never have met each other, or understood that multiple America's exist simultaneously depending on one's race, education level, economic status, and where you might have been born. But they were Marines, combat Marines, forged in thesame crucible of Marine training, and because of this bond they were brothers as close, or closer, than if they were born of the same woman.
The mission orders they received from the sergeant squad leader I am sure went something like: "Okay you two clowns, stand this post and let no unauthorized personnel or vehicles pass." "You clear?" I am also sure Yale and Haerter then rolled their eyes and said in unison something like: "Yes Sergeant," with just enough attitude that made the point without saying the words, "No kidding sweetheart, we know what we're doing."
They then relieved two other Marines on watch and took up their post at the entry control point of Joint Security Station Nasser, in the Sophia section of Ramadi, Al Anbar, Iraq .
A few minutes later a large blue truck turned down the alley way-perhaps 60-70 yards in length-and sped its way through the serpentine of concrete jersey walls. The truck stopped just short of where the two were posted and detonated, killing them both catastrophically. Twenty-four brick masonry houses were damaged or destroyed. A mosque 100 yards away collapsed. The truck's engine came to rest two hundred yards away knocking most of a house down before it stopped. Our explosive experts reckoned the blast was made of 2,000 pounds of explosives.
Two died, and because these two young infantrymen didn't have it in their DNA to run from danger, they saved 150 of their Iraqi and American brothers-in-arms.
When I read the situation report about the incident a few hours after it happened I called the regimental commander for details as something about this struck me as different. Marines dying or being seriously wounded iscommonplace in combat. We expect Marines regardless of rank or MOS to stand their ground and do their duty, and even die in the process, if that is what the mission takes. But this just seemed different. The regimental commander had just returned from the site and he agreed, but reported that there were no American witnesses to the event-just Iraqi police. I figured if there was any chance of finding out what actually happened and then to decorate the two Marines to acknowledge their bravery, I'd have to do it as a combat award that requires two eye-witnesses and we figured the bureaucrats back in Washington would never buy Iraqi statements. If it had any chance at all, it had to come under the signature of a general officer.
I traveled to Ramadi the next day and spoke individually to a half-dozen Iraqi police all of whom told the same story. The blue truck turned down into the alley and immediately sped up as it made its way through the serpentine. They all said, "We knew immediately what was going on as soon as the two Marines began firing." The Iraqi police then related that some of them also fired, and then to a man, ran for safety just prior to the explosion. All survived. Many were injured...some seriously. One of the Iraqis elaborated and with tears welling up said, "They'd run like any normal man would to save his life." "What he didn't know until then," he said, "and what he learned that very instant, was that Marines are not normal." Choking past the emotion he said, "Sir, in the name of God no sane man would have stood there and done what they did." "No sane man." "They saved us all."
What we didn't know at the time, and only learned a couple of days later after I wrote a summary and submitted both Yale and Haerter for posthumous Navy Crosses, was that one of our security cameras, damaged initially in the blast, recorded some of the suicide attack. It happened exactly as the Iraqis had described it. It took exactly six seconds from when the truck entered the alley until it detonated.
You can watch the last six seconds of their young lives. Putting myself in their heads I supposed it took about a second for the two Marines to separately come to the same conclusion about what was going on once the truck came into their view at the far end of the alley. Exactly no time to talk it over, or call the sergeant to ask what they should do. Only enough time to take half an instant and think about what the sergeant told them to do only a few minutes before: "...let no unauthorized personnel or vehicles pass."
The two Marines had about five seconds left to live.
It took maybe another two seconds for them to present their weapons, take aim, and open up. By this time the truck was half-way through the barriers and gaining speed the whole time. Here, the recording shows a number of Iraqi police, some of whom had fired their AKs, now scattering like the normal and rational men they were-some running right past the Marines.
They had three seconds left to live.
For about two seconds more, the recording shows the Marines' weapons firing non-stop...the truck's windshield exploding into shards of glass as their rounds take it apart and tore in to the body of the son-of-a-bitch who is trying to get past them to kill their brothers-American and Iraqi-bedded down in the barracks totally unaware of the fact that their lives at that moment depended entirely on two Marines standing their ground. If they had been aware, they would have known they were safe...because two Marines stood between them and a crazed suicide bomber. The recording shows the truck careening to a stop immediately in front of the two Marines. In all of the instantaneous violence Yale and Haerter never hesitated. By all reports and by the recording, they never stepped back. They never even started to step aside. They never even shifted their weight. With their feet spread shoulder width apart, they leaned into the danger, firing as fast as they could work their weapons.
They had only one second left to live.
The truck explodes. The camera goes blank. Two young men go to their God. Six seconds. Not enough time to think about their families, their country, their flag, or about their lives or their deaths, but more than enough time for two very brave young men to do their duty...into eternity. Those are the kind of people who are on watch all over the world tonight-for you.
We Marines believe that God gave America the greatest gift he could bestow to man while he lived on this earth-freedom. We also believe he gave us another gift nearly as precious-our soldiers, sailors, airmen, Coast Guardsmen, and Marines-to safeguard that gift and guarantee no force on this earth can every steal it away. It has been my distinct honor to have been with you here today. Rest assured our America, this experiment in democracy started over two centuries ago, will forever remain the "land of the free and home of the brave" so long as we never run out of tough young Americans who are willing to look beyond their own self-interest and comfortable lives, and go into the darkest and most dangerous places on earth to hunt down, and kill, those who would do us harm.
God Bless America , and....SEMPER FIDELIS

Moral/Ethical Dilemma

You are driving along in your car on a wild, stormy night, when you passby a bus stop, and you see three people waiting for the bus:

1. An old lady who looks as if she is about to die.

2. An old friend who once saved your life.

3. The perfect partner you have been dreaming about.


Which one would you choose to offer a ride to, knowing that there could only be one passenger in your car?

This question was posed on an application to see how people would respond. Which one would you give a ride to?