Who Am I?

Born in Central IL in 1955 I grew up with 4 brothers and two sisters. I joined the Army in 1972 and, barring a short stretch between ’76 and ’82, I have been in the U.S. Army my entire life; first as a soldier then as a DA Civilian for the Department of Defense. I cannot say I have always had a motorcycle. But, for the most part, a ride was always within arm’s reach and utilized on any given opportunity. There was a time, in that stretch between ’76 & ’82, I associated with riders from the “outlaw” side and, after a couple of near miss events, decided to turn 90 degrees and ride away. For years I steered clear of riding groups; regardless of genre.

Hoka Hey Bike 3

In 2008 I came across a group called Rescue Riders and, during that encounter, met some of the finest people I have ever met. People who give of themselves and ask nothing in return. This was the type of person I wanted to be. In 2010 I came in contact with information about a long distance endurance ride from Key West Florida to Homer Alaska. At the time I could not fathom such a ride, but got my chance to participate in the Hoka Hey Motorcycle Challenge in 2013. To say it changed my life would be a gross understatement. The impact was so great I was compelled to narrate the event in book form. The ride showed me that I was not the person I thought I was and showed me a glimmer of what I needed to do to strive to become who I wanted and needed to be. Hoka Hey has taught me much and is still instructing me on a daily basis. To put a life in two paragraphs is an impossible task. A personal bio is a narrative of who we are. I learned, through the Challenge, that who I thought I was and who I really was differed greatly. I believe a true metric of a person is best measured by what they do to become someone people deserve. So, who am I? Not sure yet, but my prayer is that with each passing day I will get closer to that person I am supposed to be.

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The Worth of Truth

A friend of mine posted a blog titled, “American Genocide and the New World Order.” I call him a friend but we have never actually met. My first introduction to his writing was when I purchased his book, “The Three Meter Zone” which became my “go-to” manual when I was a First Sergeant serving in the U.S. Army. Shortly thereafter I started following his Blog and have garnered a plethora of wisdom from his narratives.

I enjoy reading his posts. This particular post got me to thinking; sometimes my thinking is a good thing, sometimes not so much. Every word in his post is truth. The kind of truth nobody wants to hear. The kind of truth that, if taken to heart, would bring to light the fact that delusion has taken the place of reason and common sense, that compassion has been overrun by arrogance, and a truth that demonstrates, in no uncertain terms, that integrity and honor have been pushed aside for the sake of expediency and a self-serving agenda.

I commented on his post stating in part, “…and I have to wonder if we are not just banging our heads against the sidewalk.” I was referring to the daily demonstrated fact that very few want to hear the truth, so why speak it.

We live in a country that has turned its back on God, has pushed God out of our schools, our homes, our government, our lives, and even out of some of our churches. We live in a country that has willfully, expeditiously, and with a not so hidden sense of glee taken, the lives of millions upon millions of unborn children every year; this is done with no remorse, no sorrow, no regret, and is called “a god given right” to do so. We have taken steps to ensure single parent households are the norm and same sex marriage is not only acceptable but proper and encouraged. The mindset that embraces these callused attributes has been around since Cain and Able but I think in recent decades it has flourished and is driving us headfirst (with eyes wide open) into perdition. In fact it is being taught in our schools as a curriculum, either directly or indirectly.


Many will ridicule the Christian faith and claim it infringes on the U.S. Constitution and call it hate speech but at the same time hold Islam up as a bastion of hope. Many claim gun control is the answer and call guns and the people who own them evil… until the time comes when someone breaks into their house and they have no gun to protect themselves. They might have time to call 911 but they would be better served calling a crime scene cleanup crew; that’s all the police will be able to do once they get there, but nobody wants to believe that. Many want open borders and claim there is nothing wrong with illegals… until an illegal injures or kills one of their own. Many believe it is their right to murder an unborn child, but on those occasions when the parent changes their mind their life is enriched by the child, but nobody wants to believe that. Many wish to push aside our Republic and replace it with Socialism knowing full well that socialism, as a government, has never worked; how stupid is that?

So, what good does it do to tell the truth to people who do not want the truth and who will go so far as to lash out and attack when the truth is spoken. We see the attacks daily. A conservative is shouted down and buildings burned to keep them from speaking in public places, but the left (the progressive, the liberal, the socialist democrat, whatever you want to call them today) is appalled and claim the 1st Amendment as a law that MUST be upheld when they speak. A double standard that only a few enlightened people actually see. Actually, everyone sees it, many just choose to not “see” it.

So, again, why do we continue to speak truth to those who care not? We do it because there is a hope that some will listen. We do it for that mother who changed her mind. We do it for the families that realize they have been lied to for years and they want (and need) a Godly truth. We do it for that person who grows weary of being spoon feed someone’s agenda and realize they have a mind of their own and they need a renewable energy source for that new thought process. We do it for a teacher in the classroom who is inundated with twisted social experiments from the Department of Education. We do it for those who do not know they are being lied to and are being manipulated and played the fool by the puppet master. We do it for that soldier and police officer who defend the lives of the delusional masses and are hated for it.

I know very few read my words and that’s OK, some do. Our world is in a spiral dive and I will do all I can for those who seek the truth. I’m not saying every word I say is truth. Sometimes I will fail, sometimes I will get caught up in the foolishness, sometimes I will lash out as well… I am thankful that my salvation is based on God’s grace and is not based on a performance based requirement. A performance based requirement would certainly place me in the pit with the puppet master. When I stand before God I will have to answer for lots of mistakes, both intentional and unintentional. What I do not want to answer for are those things I should have done but chose not to.

Never let the masses silence the truth.

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The Power of a Memory

It has been said that the tongue is sharper than the sword. Words can cut deep and cause more damage than a sword and whereas a cut from a sword will heal the 2nd and 3rd order effects of words linger on and on, often a lifetime. But words can also bring light and warmth.

During an interview with Ken Burns, the creator of some of the best documentaries ever, it was said many of the narrations used during the making of the epic “Civil War” documentary came from journals written by soldiers who actually participated in the battles. Letters written to family members and actual journals maintained by soldiers and by-standers from both sides of the conflict. Two things come to mind here. The first is that the soldier thought it important to write their story and the second, the families that saved these letters and journals.

Today we are quick to read a note or letter (or email) and then discard or delete it as trash. We read it, so no need to clutter our existence with the paper it was written on or waste the storage space on our hard drives. Right?

Perhaps not. Words carry weight and words written have a place, often a cherished place if we use the proper words with the proper intent. We just don’t realize it. Today at work I was looking for an OPORD. I’ll not get into what an OPORD is because it really has no merit with regard to this thought. While looking I found a letter sent to me by my sister and inside was a copy of a story written by my Aunt Lora about my Aunt Nita when they were young. I set aside the search for the illusive OPORD and again read the story written by my Aunt Lora. It was a letter telling of memories of her younger sister (my Aunt Nita) while they were growing up.

It is a toss-up on which of these two wonderful ladies is the most precious to me. They both display a grace and generosity that is hard to find in so many other people I associate with. My Aunt Nita recently passed away and I believe it is that passing that precipitated the writing of that collection of memories; memories that would have been lost were it not for a desire to share them by my Aunt Lora. The memories included snippets about Nita, Bris (my Dad), and the arrival of baby brother Joe and little sister Vivi. It was a great read.


We are quick to bad mouth each other, even those we love, but seldom will we take the time to share a good memory. We need to fix that. I often question my resolve to write and I always decide to continue regardless of the fact that very few read my words.

Take time to write a story. We often remember things from our past and that thought might linger for a moment then is swept away by other thoughts of less importance or the ringing of the evil and ever-present cell phone. Rather than let these memories dissolve in the mist of thought, write them down. Don’t worry about spelling or grammar. Spelling and grammar take a back seat to the actual memory.

Perhaps someday Ken’s great-grandson will do a documentary and he will need those words.  We’ll let him edit for spelling and proper grammar.

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Facebook – Needed a Break.

Not long ago I got thoroughly disgusted with Facebook. I got so tired of the hate and divide and I decided no longer wanted to be a part of it; at the very least I needed a break. I was good, for the most part, at ignoring the “white privilege” crap and the “I hate Trump” posts and the “if you don’t think like me you’re evil” posts. I also got burned out on all the pictures of what people were having for dinner. But I found myself commenting on the really ignorant memes and that never ends well. So, rather than let the Puppet Master use me I suspended my account.

I’m not saying the Puppet Master is an actual person or a cabal of sinister minded board of directors but I do believe the Puppet Master is real. I see the Puppet Master as a compilation of “group think” types who, for some reason, entertain themselves or are entertained by division and hate. Regardless of who or what the Puppet Master is, I find the concept repulsive.

Contrary to social thought there are no Facebook withdrawal shakes or tremors when you pull the plug.  These past two weeks have been rather productive.  But will admit I missed some of my friends and family.

Facebook has some good points. I got reconnected with old friends, found new ones and certainly Facebook is a great tool to use if you need help, want to help, want to share insight, or share pictures of loved ones who have accomplished great or small things. I even got my high school class ring returned after being lost for over 15 years; how cool is that? Anyway, after two weeks of being off of Facebook I ponder on the wisdom of my action.

I miss the interaction with those I cherish and will admit I miss the pictures that accompany many of the comments made by those I cherish. I resolved to return but return with a new set of rules. Rules that, if followed, will return me to what I have always hoped was the original intent of Facebook. Well, actually the original intent of Facebook can be traced to the currently taboo practice of body-shaming. The original Facebook (called Facemash) was shut down a few days after it went on line by Harvard executives and Zuckerberg faced expulsion from Harvard University for breach of security, violating copyrights, and individual privacy. He, Zuckerberg, launched a new site called TheFacebook but found himself again in trouble when some Harvard seniors claimed he had stolen their idea for a social networking site. That claim was settled out of court. There’s more to the story but suspect if you want to know more you will dig into it on your own, you don’t need me for that.

OK, where was I? Bit of a rabbit hole there. I’ll crawl out of the “rabbit hole” with a final comment on this sidebar subject; Zuckerberg dropped out of Harvard.

So, the ”original” original intent is not my intent, not interested in body-shaming. In my mind I see the original intent as bringing people closer together. It has failed at that but only because we have allowed it to fail at that.

I will endeavor to abide by my new set of rules and hopefully will not suffer an abundance of setbacks. Feel free to call me out if you see my strings tugged by the Puppet Master. But do it nicely, sometimes I don’t play well with others. We all have good days and bad days. I won’t make light of your bad days if you don’t make light of mine.

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Mary Poppins is a Racist


Mary Poppins; Racist Movie

Mary Poppins is apparently a racist movie; who knew? According to an op-ed in The New York Times the scene where Mary Poppins popped out of a chimney with black soot on her face was not actually black soot collected while climbing up a chimney but rather a racial remark to denigrate all people of color.   I wonder, are all coal miners racist?

Bigotry will always be with us no matter how hard we try to eradicate it. Just like there will always be thieves, cheaters, liars, and con artist. Some people are just that way (and these people represent a very, [VERY] small percentage of the population). But to find bigotry in every whip-stitch is nothing more than a way to keep racism alive and well and is a tool used by the puppet master to expand hate and expand the divide.

You need to get a grip on reality and stop being used.

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One Hundred and Forty Characters


This picture of a Nun standing next to a horse in a barn was found in a box of old negatives at my Mom’s house. I have no background on the picture at all, no idea why it was taken, who the Nun was or who owned the horse or barn, or the circumstances that came to pass that brought this horse and Nun together. Regardless, the picture holds great interest to me. At present I find it interesting because, based on today’s mainstream society, it cannot be explained using 140 characters or less. Indulge me for just a moment (or however long it takes to read the following 1467 characters).

I’m wondering if social media has hampered our attention spam. Memes are the main form of communication and even that, more often than not, are the words of others. You saw it on Facebook, liked what it said and decided it said what you wanted to say. Back in the day when people actually read books the headlines on a newspaper was meant to grab your attention. The follow-up article gave you all the details. We now limit ourselves to the headlines and care not for the details. The headlines tell us all we want to know. Details provided by cable news outlets are based on the opinion of others and we have relied on the opinion of others for so long we are no longer able to form our own. We claim our opinion is our own but it really is not… record your opinion and play it back, then listen to your favorite news outlet—you may be surprised at what you hear.

We have also lost our ability to debate. We’ve all heard the old adage, “Never discuss politics or religion.” Two of the most important topics and we are unable to discuss them because we can no longer allow our ears to hear an opinion that might demonstrate that one of us is wrong. We see it daily—family members turning their backs on other family members because they disagree with a political view. Lines are drawn in the sand, words are said, and neither side will back down because both are convinced they are right and the other is dead wrong; so wrong in fact we will cut all ties.

We have reduced our attention span to 140 characters or less, and of course we need a picture to catch anyone’s attention. We are giving control over to a puppet master. At what point are we going to realize we are both right and we are both wrong, and we both have something the other needs—a realization the puppet master wishes kept in the dark.

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How Did We Get Here?

I was reading an article last night about home and personal protection and, after reading it, wondered how we have come to where we are now.

The Constitution never gave the Government the responsibility for your personal protection. It did, in the Preamble, determine to, “…establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty…”  We can use the phrase “promote general welfare” to justify a local police force but here again that does not necessarily include your personal protection and/or protection of your home and family; it promote the “general” welfare which I take to mean civil order.  It does make reference in Section 4 to offer protection against domestic violence, but the term “domestic violence” is open to interpretation.

Some see domestic violence, used in this context, as a total breakdown of civil order (which we see quite often these days) and others see this as the implementation and given authority of the local police force. I could write volumes on Section 4 alone but won’t, I know many would just stop reading because they don’t care and therein rests our most looming problem; resting comfortably I might add.

OK, I’m sure most are already bored with reading and I congratulate you for coming this far, so let’s get on with the premise here.

At what point did we relegate our right to protect our home, our families and ourselves to the police force? I submit that is not their responsibility; it is ours.  Home invasions are on the rise and you may think yourself immune from this atrocity; until you’re not.  In many of our cities home invasions are common place and I think it pertinent to say cities where home invasions and muggings are common place are also the cities with the strictest gun laws thereby disallowing the fundamental right of personal protection.

We have been lead to believe that the police force is our first line of defense, but they are not and our Law Enforcement Officers will agree with that assessment. If someone breaks into your home, or if someone pulls a gun and starts shooting in a public place the first line of defense is you.  As our world falls apart because of growing civil unrest, because of a growing disrespect for the common good, because of slanted local governments who pick and choose who to protect on any given day, because of an “entitlement mentality” and mainly because of a growing majority who feel it is the government’s responsibility to manage everything (to include their very lives) it has become even more important to cling to your right of personal protection.

1st line of defense

You are your own first line of defense.


The Police will be there to help you, but they will not be there fast enough; you are the first line of defense. Disavow that responsibility and you may regret it.  The only good thing here is you will only regret it for a very short time; from the time a criminal breaks in to the time it takes to kill you; perhaps a couple of minutes.  Which means the assistance afforded to you by the Police Force is reduced to stuffing your remains and the remains of your family into a body bag.

One last thing—the right of personal defense comes with significant responsibilities. It is your responsibility to become proficient in defending yourself and your home.  Carrying a gun (legal concealed carry) may be considered the 1st step, but in fact it’s like step 7 in the process.  What good is your weapon if you do not know how to use it under stressful conditions?  Popping off a few rounds at the range a couple times every year is not being proficient; that’s nothing more than… well, popping off a few rounds.  If you’re in a public place or in your home and someone draws a weapon with the intent to cause harm your first inclination would be to draw your own weapon—but drawing your weapon, depending on the scenario may not be your 1st priority—it might be your 2nd or 3rd required action.  You need to learn these things.  Learn them not and the bad guy just might shoot you with your own gun.  Plus, being armed is not your only nor is it your most important tool.

Want to know more? Good, that’s the 1st and best step to start with.  You can contact me and I can give you more… but don’t contact me unless you are serious about your own protection.  If you want to rely on the government to protect you then that is your right and you are welcome to it; just don’t get in my way when I protect my loved ones.

PS:  When was the last time you actually sat down and read the US Constitution? Not just looked at the 1st page or 2, but actually read it from cover to cover.  Read it yourself and you just might be surprised at what it says.

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