Moved :)

Hi gang,

Posting a reminder that femme's desk has been moved to the Sibling Synergy site, at flashnee.com.

Can't say I'm a bit sorry to be leaving blogger behind either.

femme

Not likely to fail ....

A new post on femme's desk is available.

Blogger is still jacked up, so I'm still posting on the site.

Hope you enjoy the read!

femme


http://www.flashnee.com/femmes-desk.html

My sister (Alicia Jaye) and I have combined our work and have opened a new website to keep all of it in one place.

I'll be maintaining femme's desk and Pack Rides, but new posts will be on the website.

Blogger has changed up some things in their new interface and it's having some impressive glitches that are preventing me from using it effectively.

However, once they've worked the bugs out, I'll be able to combine the posts here with those on the new site.

The web address for the new version of femme's desk is
http://www.flashnee.com/femmes-desk.html

I have a brand new post there, anxiously waiting to be read by you. :)

Thanks so much for your patience and I hope you'll enjoy our new site!

femme

There is a difference ....

There is something important I should have remembered from my studies during grade school through college.  The sad thing is, I DID go to grade school, high school, AND college, and leave it to a young man who was home-schooled to be the one to re-educate me on a verbal faux pas. 

Score another point for Seth Hall, Chairman of Precinct 4124, Republican Party.

Seth Hall (R), when he's not working for
We The People, you can often find him at
his other occupation, working as a Grip-Electric
in film industry.

Thankfully, Seth is always very gracious in his correction.  He never says I'm wrong, but rather steps in gently to share information.  I'm happy he did, because my error was an important one to correct.

In one of our many conversations, I referred to the United States as a democracy.  We are in fact (at least, as outlined by the United States Constitution) a Republic.  And, the difference between the two is drastic. 

The difference between a Republic and a Democracy is critical.  In a Democracy, the majority  has unlimited power over a minority, and it provides no legal safeguards for individual rights.

In a Republic, the majority is constrained by a written constitution, in which an individual's (and/or a minority's) rights are protected.  The purpose of a Republic is to The purpose of a Republic form of government is to control the majority and to protect the God-given, inalienable rights and liberty of the individual.

Not long ago, I was personally informed that the U.S. Constitution was merely a pretty piece of poetry and that it has never been effective.  It's true that it's only effective in protecting my rights as an individual, and YOURS, if it's adhered to.  But, I do have to argue that it's much more than a pretty piece of poetry.  The adherence bit has been ignored since it was written, at least in my estimation. 

Racism, sexism and slavery, should never have been tolerated amongst a people that considered themselves to be civilized.  Thomas Jefferson was brilliant, and went above and beyond in his attempt to ensure the protection of individual freedoms ... of the white, male citizenry.  Thankfully, when the preamble described the citizens of the United States, it referred to those citizens as "We the people" when ordaining and establishing the U.S. Constitution.

Maybe he overlooked that the description of "We the people" encompassed all citizens.  I find that hard to believe, but stranger things have happened.  Regardless of the reason he penned it the way he did, it legally applies to me, to you, and to every other U.S. citizen, regardless of race, sex, or religion.

It is also the written establishment of a government classified as a Republic, not a Democracy.

A further breakdown of Republic and Democracy, is in the two major political platforms that represent them.  The basic platform differences between Democrat and Republican parties is:

Republicans believe in small government, individual responsibility for social issues, and that people should keep the money they earn; Democrats believe that man may fundamentally be perfected. As a result, this requires larger government and higher taxes (someone else's money) to pay for it all.

No wonder I'm a Republican, and no wonder I have a strong distrust and general dislike for RINOs (Republicans In Name Only).  Mitt Romney would qualify as one of those. 

Mr. Romney may be registered as a candidate with the Republican Party, however, his track record shows that he signed into law a good many things that are a violation of individual rights.  It's everyone's choice to support, or not support him.  However, as a Christian individual, I find myself to be prohibited from voting for Romney due to his gross breach of the Republican platform.

So far, with only the power of being a governor, he assisted in getting gun control laws put into effect in Massachusetts.  He went from publically dissing the NRA (National Rifleman's Association) before he decided to run for U.S. President to playing nice with them shortly before tossing his hat in the candidates' ring.

In 1994, during his race against Senator Ted Kennedy, Romney stated, "I believe that abortion should be safe and legal in this country."  In 2002, during his campaign for governor he said, "I will preserve and protect a woman's right to choose and am devoted and dedicated to honoring my word in that regard."

Currently, he insists he's pro-life, but did he really flip-flop?  Or is this a mirror act of his making nice with the NRA?   

Another thing I've been mulling over, after researching Mr. Romney's stance on issues important to me, regarding this walking/talking contradiction is, he's a Mormon.  I don't care if he's a Mormon.  I'm only perplexed at how he can be both a creationist and an evolutionist.  I read his explanation on how he claims to be both, but true to form, the entirety of his explanation was what?  A contradiction.  In fact, after I read it, I decided that someone had finally made Rick Perry look good.  That bit impressed me because I honestly thought it was impossible to achieve.

There's also his promise, listed on mittromney.com, that says, if elected as president, his first day in office he'll be giving an executive order to get Obamacare waivers issued to every state.  Why does he trash Obama regarding universal health care, when he's been such a huge fan of socialized medicine?  He loved it so much, he made sure it was implemented it (RomneyCare) way back in 2006, for the residents of Masschusetts.  In fact, it was such a success that I can only say ... I'm really, really thankful that I don't have to live in Massachusetts.

In my consideration of Mr. Romney, I couldn't help but develop a mental association of him with Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  He can be listed on the ballot as a Republican, but I'm convinced the guy is as much of a Republican as I am an athiest.

femmeflashpoint 

Seth's breakdown of Kit's query ...

Some of you, maybe several of you, may find the content of this blog offensive.  But, hey, it's my blog, and I only put in it what's on my mind to write, and it's absolutely impossible to please everyone with every blog, every time.

I get most of my blog, short story, and article ideas from colleagues and friends.  Now and then I even get them from people I meet on the street, or in a shop, or all sorts of other places I come across them.  I'm not shy, and I'm prone to strike up a conversation with anyone that snags my interest.  But, for the most part, the content ideas tend to come from lunch discussions, or during discussions and idea-bouncing with the Muscle Next Door. 

I'm a Christian writer who's been blessed with a large group of caring friends, who come from all types of ethnicity and religious beliefs, and even the total lack of the latter.  I've caught some fire from Christians who believe I'm in the wrong for befriending folks who are not of the Christian faith, which only results in making me angry.  I get a bit bent when folks cop a a self-righteous attitude, and sincerely believe they're better than someone else because of their status in the Christian realm. 

So there you have it.  I'm not Buddhist, but I have friends who are.  I'm not a Catholic, or a Methodist, or a Druid, or even an athiest or agnostic, but I have friends from all of those beliefs.  And, though I'm straight, I have many friends who are gay. 

Torres on the left, Bobby D. and D.J. in the middle, Kit on the right.

It happened to be a friend from one of those genres, Kit, who'd met with Torres and I for lunch a couple of weeks ago, that contributed to article and blog content ideas.  She said I should considering writing up something on gay rights.

My first response was exactly this, "Gay rights?  Why would I do an article on that?  You've got the same rights as I do, so pick something else."  I really did answer her like that, and she truly knew I meant no offense.  But, she didn't agree and proceeded to give me a brief and valid "schooling" on why she felt she, in specific instances, doesn't have the same rights that Torres and I do.

Torres and I are both hetero, and both single.  Kit explained that if Torres and I were married to opposite-sex partners, even in marriages regarded as common law (which is recognized as a legal marriage in the state of Texas), that Torres and I would be given legal rights that Kit and her partner would not be given, in certain situations.

A description she gave of an example situation was, if Kit were to be suddenly incapacitated, her legal next of kin would automatically be her parent(s), rather than her partner.  If this happened to me, or Torres, and we had spouses, our husband(s) would be automatically recognized as our legal next of kin.  Past that, she said, if she were incapacitated and hospitalized, her parents could decide to not let her partner in to visit her, or to assist in any financial or medical decisions.  If Torres and I had spouses, they would automatically have the right to make those decisions for us. 

Afterwards, I admitted to seeing her point, and I understood why she feels same-sex partners are descriminated against in these sorts of situations. 

Seth Hall on the right.

I mulled it over, and before deciding how to present it, I met with Seth on the back patio to get his opinion on how I should go about writing this sort of thing up, and if it should be written in a blog, or presented as an article.  Seth is one of my main go-to-guys for this sort of ideological brainstorming.  He's  the eldest of the Muscle Next Door (excluding McGuyver, who is his dad), and he and I have spent many an hour discussing law, government, politicians and whether or not it's a good idea to wear sports socks with dress slacks. 

I laid out the points Kit had brought up, and I sincerely had no idea what side of the fence Seth might take regarding Kit's complaint about unfairness in the legalities of these sorts of partnerships.  However, there is one thing I can always count on, and that is that when it comes to citizens rights, Seth will always stand for what is fair and just, and will follow the U.S. Constitution to the letter, as a guideline.  That's a very good habit he's maintained, especially if you're a voter and you live in his precinct, because he's our local precinct chairman of the Republican Party.  He's also not "old guard" Republican, but an actual Republican, who is constantly mindful of constitutional adherance.  Therefore, for those of us in our precinct who happen to love liberty, we have an excellent representative to help ensure that we maintain it.

This time, it was Seth waving his hand at me, flipping away at the notion of gay rights or straight rights and said that ultimately, the problem had nothing to do with anyone's sexual orientation.  He broke it down beyond that, to the very base of the problem that causes this flurry of discussion, and even arguments amongst a good many citizens a great deal of the time. 

What it boils down to is this, a government has no right to be meddling in, sanctioning, taxing, or applying fees to the personal union of two consenting adults, period.  To make it a bit more blonde-friendly, he put it this way.  It's absolutely ridiculous for there to be a fee paid to any government establishment to be legally married.  It's equally as absurd to have to pay any government establishment a fee to be legally recognized as a minister.  Suddenly, the light-bulb came on in my blonde-brain, and I said, "Ohhhhhh!  You're right!" 

It was one of those, "Good grief!  I've been an idiot!" moments.

Sad thing is, I'd never even questioned this before, and I should have questioned it when I first gained the knowlege of it.  But, we as a society, have been so programmed to accept such things, that most of us don't bother to question laws that are an infringement on our human liberties.  Not just American liberties, but liberties that ALL people are entitled to.

If I ever marry again, I won't be heading to a courthouse, in any state, to pay for a marriage license.  I also won't require, or request, that the officiant be a licensed minister.  I will consider to have a partnership contract drawn up prior to the marriage, to ensure that whomever I married would be recognized as my legal next of kin, but otherwise .... what possible right does a government entity have to charge me a fee to get married, or charge a minister a fee to perform a ceremony?

None.

Now I can't help but wonder how much money has been made since the fees for marriage licenses and ministerial licenses have been implemented.  And, where has all of that money gone to?  Think about it.  That's a wholeeeee lot of change the governments been raking in for years, that they've never had a right to be taking in the first place.

This excerpt I've borrowed from macquirelatory.com is a priceless outline of the word "license" in relationship to a government.

"According to Black's Law Dictionary, the word license is defined as - the permission by competent authority to do an act which without such permission, would be illegal." Now in other words, this means the government makes something that was lawful to do, illegal, so they can then tell you that if you pay the government money (which is a bribe), then they will turn their backs and give you a permit that allows you to break the law that they just said was illegal to do! So the question that people need to ask themselves, is why would it be illegal to marry without the State's permission?"

"Miscegenation laws, were laws that banned interracial marriage and sometimes interracial sex between whites and blacks. In the United States, interracial marriage, cohabitation and sex have since 1863 been termed as "miscegenation. In North America, laws against interracial marriage and interracial sex existed and were enforced in the Thirteen Colonies from the late seventeenth century onwards, and subsequently in several US states and US territories until 1967. In the United States, miscegenation laws were state laws passed by individual states to prohibit miscegenation, nowadays more commonly referred to as interracial marriage and interracial sex. Typically defining miscegenation as a felony, yes, felony, and these laws prohibited the solemnization of weddings between persons of different races and prohibited the officiating of such ceremonies."

"When a couple applies for a license from the State to marry, they are actually asking for permission to engage in the “unlawful” activity of marriage (License - a revocable permission to commit some act that would otherwise be unlawful - Black’s Law 7th ed). Why, because the State can regulate that which it licenses, by entering into a State-sanctioned franchise (marriage) as a married couple, a couple forfeits their rights to a private, sovereign marriage and any ownership control of their children or property; as a result of the marriage license. Child Protective Services receives its full power and authority to seize children via the marriage license under the ancient legal doctrine of parens patriae. When a State-licensed married couple has a child, the Birth Certificate is the document the State uses to claim ownership of the child under its marriage contract. State ownership remains as long as that child lives, even after the age of 21. If you have a birth certificate, the State owns you too. Couples married under a state-sanctioned marriage license also give up 1/3 of their property to the state. Should one person die, the government, through the inheritance tax, will demand the surviving party to “buy them out” - usually a 28- 35% tax."

I have to say, I find the entirety of the history of marriage licenses, and their current role in society to be disgusting and an affront to my beliefs as a Christian, and a liberty-loving individual, who thinks color is a grand thing, and believes God does too.  He came up with it before I was even born to appreciate it.  The description, miscegenation, will be rankling me for days.  If it hadn't been for some color mixing, I'd not be here, and I'm very happy with my ancestry.


The whole nasty business is neither a straight, gay, racial or cultural issue.  It's an issue with the government implementing a divide, conquer and control tactic while they plant their creepy, fat, greedy, thieving fingers in citizens wallets ... again.

My thanks to Kit for bringing it up, and my thanks to Seth for clearing it up, as well as sparking me to dig a little deeper into the whys and hows of the origination of this mess.

That's it for this one.

God bless you, thank you for reading, and please don't forget to thank a Veteran at your next opportunity!

femmeflashpoint

Baghdad Chronicles via Jeremy Norton

Today's post is in tribute to a very special fellow.  You know the type.  They carry heavy loads on their back.  They have to be en guarde with nearly every step they take, due to the extreme possibility of a wrong move costing them limb(s), life, or both.

They're the type who have the courage to sign on the line, agreeing to suffer hardship, and give all they've got, up to and including their lives, to protect you and me.

Knowing there is a high-probability they'll be sent far away, into strange lands with foreign tongues, and spend their days and nights at mortal risk, somehow they find the courage to sign on the line, giving themselves over to the control of our oh-so-incredible, United States government officials.

That being said, here's a tip.

The vast majority of them aren't doing it for the welfare of our illustrious, and pathetic government.

They're doing it for their children, for their parents, for brothers, for sisters, nieces, nephews, neighbors and communities.

The following are excerpts of a journal, written by an active duty soldier during deployment.  He has graciously given me permission to publish them here.

PFC Norton, Jeremy
1^st Platoon, Bandit Troop, 
 1^stSquadron,
 10^th Cavalry Regiment,
 4^th Infantry Division
United States Army

  

May 11, 2006 – Nov. 1, 2006

First Entry

The engine on the M114 HMMWV was humming as I dozed off in the drivers seat.  It was another hot, summer day in southern Baghdad.

We'd been sitting at the patrol base since before sunrise, waiting to pick up our sniper team from their OP, a klick away.  It was past noon.  The highlight of my day had been starting and stopping the HMMWV to keep the battery from dying.

I’d also been trying, unsuccessfully, to get some sleep in, all day.  And, just as I was finally drifting off to a land filled with good food and Dr. Pepper, I was awakened by a short whistle, followed by a BOOM!!

A mortar round had landed in the middle of the patrol base.  I jumped out of the Humvee and ran to the cement bunker behind it.  Just as I got there, another mortar fell on the engine block of the Humvee next to mine.  It didn’t explode, but put a nice sized hole through the motor.

The two soldiers who had been sitting in the Humvee weren’t injured, and were able to jump out and run to the bunker.  A final mortar exploded 50 feet away.  We all waited for a long while to see if more were coming.

Second Entry

I was riding in the back of a Humvee with PVT Conn.  Ortiz was driving.  Allen was gunning, and SGT Lewis was our TC.  We were on our way out, heading toward the bridge of death, to set up a temporary patrol base.

Suddenly, I heard an explosion in the distance and a giant cloud of smoke appeared off to my right.  We were soon notified that a 2^nd Platoon truck had hit an IED.  We headed as fast as possible to their location.

On our way I heard that one of the dismounts on the truck is PVT Nadasi.  Nadasi stood right next to me on the blue line during basic.

As we turned onto the same road in which 2^nd Platoon had encountered the IED, I heard a snapping sound above the Humvee.  I realized what was happening and yelled, “They’re shooting at us!!”

Allen was way ahead of me.  He started unloading with the 240B.  He went through his 200 round ammo can quickly.  I jumped out and laid down suppressive fire while he reloaded.

Somewhere in the chaos, the truck I was riding in died.  We ended up towing it to 2^nd Platoon’s position.  When we got there, I saw the destroyed Humvee, and couldn’t believe that everyone got out alive.  The turret and gunner were thrown 50 feet away.  PVT Nadasi came away with second and third degree burns on his face, and fractured vertebrae.  He would have been dead if it hadn’t been for PFC Bridges, who yanked him out of the burning vehicle, through a slot smaller than Nadasi was.

Third Entry

We’d been out at a temporary patrol base for three days, when finally we were able to pass it off to 2^nd Platoon.  I knew it was only for a couple of days, but I was looking forward to some much needed rest.  We lined up our trucks and rolled out, past the bridge of death.  I was riding in the same vehicle I’d ridden in before, and we were pulling rear security for our convoy. 

We'd made it about 150 meters away when we heard an explosion and saw a cloud of dust, four or five vehicles in front of us.  Our lead Humvee reported receiving small arms’ fire.  Soon we heard M2 .50 cal machine gun shots ripping through the air. 

There were no Iraqis in sight, but everyone unloaded their weapons.  50 cals, 240s, M16s, m4s, shotguns, 9 mils, M14s and m203 grenade launchers all opened up on anything that could be hiding a trigger-man.

Thankfully, everyone was okay after the IED blast.

Fourth Entry

After two days of rest, my platoon headed back out to our temporary base.  We all expected something to happen on our way there, so we cleared our route carefully.  We found one IED and called EOD to come and blow it up.  A few hours later we pulled into the patrol base.

The next morning we woke up early and began clearing to- and-through, Route Ambush.  I volunteered to be one of the four dismounts, walking and searching for wire, or anything that didn’t look right.

We made it all the way to our destination without incident.  We switched out dismounts and I headed to my truck to catch some AC and luke-warm water.  I was riding in the lead truck as we made our way back, still clearing every step of the way.  We made it all the way back to the front of the patrol base.

Everyone thought we were in the clear, when an explosion rocked the vehicle behind me.  I jumped out of the truck and saw the destroyed Humvee flipped completely over. 

We medi-vaced all four soldiers in the Humvee.  Three were sent back to the States.  The other, PVT Palmer, is a buddy of mine from basic.  When the IED blew up, he crawled out, weapon in hand, and began laying down suppressive fire with the rest of us, while the others were pulled from the wreckage.

I remembered seeing SPC Plimmer lying there, unconscious, with blood all over his face.  I thought he was dead.  Then, I heard PVT Martin screaming in pain.  SPC Ganzer, the gunner, whose knee was twice the size of his head, was asking if Plimmer was alright.

That was the first time I really, definitely, wanted to kill someone.

We placed all four of them on litters and carried them to the medivac site. Later that day, we took down the patrol base and headed home to FOB Falcon.

 Fifth Entry

Sweat was burning my eyes by midday, during the hottest month in Iraq.  I was walking on a dirt road, one hundred meters in front of our vehicle, scanning for command wire, det-cord, or anything else that looked wrong.  Thirty meters ahead of me was SSG Bayles, and our Platoon SGT, SFC Casey.  Staggered to my left, on the opposite side of the road, was PVT Conn, and behind us was SGT Lindshied.  There was thick vegetation and deep canals on both sides of the road, along with a few mud huts and run-down houses.

I’d been walking in the 130F degree heat for close to two hours when we finally closed in on the newly erected patrol base.  It was to be our home for the next week.
White Platoon (2^{nd Platoon}) had rolled in ahead of us and set it up.  They had reportedly cleared the road we travelled on, but it was decided it should be re-cleared, just to be on the safe side.
As we reached the point where we felt we were pretty much safe, Conn stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the road.  "WIRE!" he yelled, then pointed, and stepped away. 

On the other side of the road, I did the same thing.  But, as I stepped, BOOM!!

The IED exploded 10 feet away.  The ground shifted under my feet, and knocked me to my knees.  The air filled with dust as the dirt and pebbles began falling.

When my hearing came back, I realized our gun trucks had opened fire.  I heard the cracks of 7.62 AK rounds flying over my head.  I raised my weapon and fired six rounds over the canal to my left, and then started yelling and searching for PVT Conn, who had been standing right next to the IED.  

I called his name four or five times before I stumbled upon his weapon, lying at the side of the road.

Finally I heard him yell, “I’m down here!”

As the dust cleared, I made out the made out the figure of Conn, lying down in the canal.  He’d been peppered in the face by debris, and thrown into the ditch.  Thankfully, other than some temporary hearing loss, he was okay.

 Sixth Entry

I’d dismounted, and was walking in 120 F degree weather.  I had 50 pounds of gear in my hands, and another 40 pounds on my back, along with a mine detector and water.  We’d gone about 2K already, and had hit one of our three objectives.

The heat and weight had begun to take a toll.  My legs were feeling heavy, the sweat was pouring and burning my eyes.  I was second to the last in the formation with our terp (interpreter), a Somali named Santos, who was walking in front of me.  We were crossing an open field, on our way to recon a potential, future patrol base.

A sniper’s bullet zipped through the middle of our formation.  I saw the dirt kick up in front of me, and everyone hit the ground.  We laid down suppressive fire and moved out in threes, to the nearest cover and concealment.  A minute before I could barely keep walking, but suddenly I was sprinting.  I took comfort in the fact that our SAW gunner was unloading while we moved.

Less than 10 minutes later, Green Dragon, our friendly-neighborhood Apache pilots were on the scene.  There were two of them, and they scanned the area for our shooter and attempted to discourage anyone else from taking pot shots at us.

We moved on to our objective to find that the supposedly vacant house we were reconnoitering was actually occupied.  A poor dirt farmer, along with his wife and son, were living there.  They allowed us to rest in their courtyard.

One of the rounds from our suppressive fire had hit one of his sheep.  Santos helped the farmer slaughter the sheep, and later, we were then served Chai tea while we rested.  Afterwards we moved on with no further incidents.

Seventh Entry

September 11^th

While other soldiers at FOB Falcon were enjoying a nice 9/11 luncheon at the dining facility, my platoon was on a recon/civil affairs mission.  A civil affairs captain and his crew were with us.  They’d brought a trailer full of food, and other goodies, for the people of the JAB (Arab Jabor).  Before we began our civil affairs mission, we had three kilometers of dismounted patrol ahead of us.

Our first objective was to recon a previous patrol base, and the area around it.  As we crossed a canal, Lt. Rice (my platoon leader) spotted a wire in the road.  It was blue and white command-wire.  We traced it back 30 meters.  It was buried the whole way.  We called up EOD (Explosive Ordinance Disposal), set our outer cordon, and began the wait.

About 30 minutes later I heard six or seven pops in the distance, followed by BOOM!  BOOM!  BOOM!

Three mortars landed near us.  I suppose the others were duds.  A short time later we received small arms' fire.  It was sporadic.  The shooter probably took off right away.  We lit up the area anyway.

Another 30 minutes had passed when the EOD arrived.  It took them four attempts to blow the IED because of how deeply it had been buried.  When they were leaving, we started our walk back to the trucks.  On arrival, I pulled out an MRE and some cold water from our ice chest.  We sat with the trucks for a couple of hours while we waited for temp to cool off a little. 

A second set of dismounts began passing food out for our civil affairs mission.  I was sitting in the driver’s seat, waiting for them to return when I heard the distinct burst of 7.62 fire breaking out.  Then I heard a mixture of 5.56 and sporadic 7.62 shots.

We rushed the gun trucks to the scene and opened up with everything.  Finally, something came over the radio, and I heard we had two casualties.  The civil affairs captain and our interpreter, Amanda, had both been hit.  The medivac was called, and they were rushed to 10^th CASH, in the Green Zone.

I had no idea how badly they were injured.  I found out later that the Captain was hit in the arm, and our Terp in the calf.  Both were okay, and the captain was actually returned to duty a couple of days later.  We made it back to the FOB with no other incidents.

 Eighth Entry

We were on our way to our 5^th patrol base, moving at a slow crawl behind Iron Claw (Route Clearance Team), and a rotten feeling had been churning in my gut.  The location was the same as the previous patrol base, and we’d travelled to it twice in the last week and a half. 

Iron Claw turned onto Route Ambush and discovered a power line had fallen on the road, rendering it impassable.  We were forced to back track and go a different route.  We drove through fields whenever possible, to avoid IEDs in the roads.

As we closed in on the patrol base, we heard an explosion in front of us.  A Fires Platoon truck had been hit, sending four soldiers to the cash and rendered that route impassable too.  It was about that time that we (at least those in my truck) realized the insurgents were prepared for us.  We made our way down the only possible route left, dismounted and began clearing it.

We discovered a pressure plate directly in front of the gate to the Patrol Base, and a possible secondary at a choke-point 20 meters away.  I brought up the mine detector.  It confirmed the possible secondary was another IED.

As the dismounts got back to the truck, we took small arms' fire.  An Iraqi Army soldier, with us, took a round through his wrist.  We laid down suppressive fire and moved the vehicles back to a less vulnerable position. 

We watched over the IEDs, waiting overnight for the EOD.  The next morning we made it into the Patrol Base.  We took mortar fire twice the first day.  The next day we were informed the Commanding General was coming to see us.

When the General arrived, he chewed out our Troop Commander and Squadron Commander.  He told them that our missions' talk and purpose are "bullsh**.”

An Iraqi Army soldier had taken a bullet.  Four U.S. soldiers had received sever burns and broken bones.  One of those soldiers, SPC Spivey, would be sent home, but later die from his wounds a few months after the unit redeployed.

All that damage was incurred for what the General termed as "bullsh**."

We returned to FOB Falcon the next morning.

Ninth Entry

An eerie feeling came over me as we sat waiting for the Blackhawk to lift off.  It was an almost surreal environment, as if we were just waiting for a director to call “ACTION!”, so that we could all begin playing our parts.

But, this was no movie.  There were no actors.  There was no audience, and the closest thing to a director we had was the LT sitting beside me, monitoring the radio.

He yelled critical information into my ear.

“There are definitely people in the house at our objective!  Tell them!”  He motioned toward the back of the chopper, to the rest of the soldiers with us. 

I turned around, as far as my gear would allow, and repeated the information the LT had given me. 

PV2 Palmer was sitting behind me, facing the opposite direction.  “What?”   I repeat the information for him.  “What?”  he yelled again.

“PEOPLE!  IN HOUSE!  AT OBJECTIVE!” I yelled again, breaking it down for him.

Finally, I got an affirmative response that he’d heard me over the roar of the chopper.  “Okay!”

The bird lifted off, and we were on our way.  The doors were left open to make for a quick exit at the landing zone.  I stared out at the lights of southern Baghdad, anticipating small arms' fire, RPGs, or stinger missiles to hit us, but they never came.

The lights below had become few and far between when I heard the Blackhawk crew chief yell, “ONE MINUTE!”

I repeated it to Palmer, and prepared myself for the landing.  I flipped my night-vision goggles down over my eyes, then grabbed a bag with my left hand, and clutched my rifle with my right.

“THIRTY SECONDS!” 

As the chopper was landing, I was chanting in my head.  “Three steps and drop.  Three steps and drop.  Three steps and drop.”

“GO!  GO!  GO!”

I was the first one out, but my three steps and drop hand turned into one step, then a stumble, followed by a face-plant.

The LT does the same thing, and landed on top of me.  I suddenly remembered that I’d not seen a single flat field in all of Iraq, at least not in our areas of operation.  They’d all been cultivated, and resembled a fluctuating sound wave.

The choppers lifted off, leaving us there in the darkness.  I located SSG Carter, and PFC Watkins.  Together we made our way to our blocking position, on the south side of the target house.  The guy who lived there had been dubbed the “Sergeant Major” of the insurgents in the area.  We had nicknamed him, “Chuck.”

BOOM!

“GO!  GO!  GO!”

A flash and bang went off, as our Iraqi Army counterparts entered the house.  Ten minutes later a green flare went up signaling all was clear for searching.  The raid went smoothly, but unfortunately, “Chuck” wasn’t home.  Our search party talked to his family before moving away from the target house.  There was a suspected weapons cache in the area we had to investigate.  We made the search, but turned up nothing.  When it was completed, we returned to the FOB.

Jeremy Norton's first and second deployments were with the 4th Infantry Division, and the last was with the 1st Cavalry Division.  His job title was Cavalry Scout.

He was deployed three times from 2006 through 2011.

His current position is the Acting Platoon Sergeant for 1st Platoon, Shadow Troop, 171st Cavalry.

Thank you for your service, Mr. Norton.  May God continue to bless and keep you. 

Welcome home!

femmeflashpoint  

Cannabis Contention

During early voting, I heard a man speaking to a candidate who was campaigning for state representative.  The conversation began immediately after the candidate passed the voter some literature regarding his campaign platform.  The voter took the literature and asked, "Are you the guy that's wanting to make drugs legal?"

The candidate asked a few questions of the voter, before giving him a well thought out response.

The voter didn't seem satisfied with the answer though, which included the candidate's desire to set up a panel of professionals, recreational drug users, as well as drug addicts, to gather their thoughts on the issue, and proceed from there in regards to legalizing certain drugs.  When the candidate finished,  the voter said, "Have you ever met  a drug addict?"

The candidate confirmed that he had met a drug addict.  Wow!  Imagine that!  In fact, he'd met more than one.  Double-Wow!  I honestly thought, "C'mon, really?  Who HASN'T met an addict of one sort or another?"

The voter continued to expound on the evils of drugs, how they should never be legalized, and how laws should continue to be in place to prohibit their use so lives could be saved.

I appreciated his concern regarding irresponsible drug use, however, what didn't make sense was that he sincerely believes criminalizing drug use would be just the thing to keep people from using them.  The issue I have with that ideology is ... it's ludicrous.

Drug laws have been in place for as long as I can remember.  Yet, with all that law prohibiting it, people still grow, make, sell, buy and use drugs.       

People who want to use drugs are going to use them, be they legal or illegal.  But, as long as their illegal, the cartels will continue to be financed, and people will continue to die from crossing them.  If marijuana were legal, the cartels would be filing for unemployment.

Lots of people have died from drug use, and lots of people have risked their lives to buy the drugs that killed them.  The law didn't keep the drugs out of their hands, and it didn't keep them breathing.  But, for all  the time they were alive and buying their drugs, it definitely kept monies flowing in all the wrong directions. 

Lives are going to be destroyed and lost due to drug use, regardless of how many laws there are in place to prohibit it.  If people want to use drugs, they're going to.  Decriminalizing drugs would at least call a halt to black-market practices, and diminish the power of those who make their living producing, buying, shipping and selling them.  It would also keep innocent folks from dying in the crossfire while the drug wars are raging.

The drug business is often gruesome, and keeping the current drug laws in place will ensure that it continues to be gruesome.

To think that ditching the drug laws is to throw the doors wide open for widespread drug abuse makes no sense either.  If I hear an announcement on the morning news that marijuana has suddenly been legalized, I'm not going to shout, "Woohoo!" and run out to stock up on the stuff.  In fact, most folks I know wouldn't begin buying drugs simply because they were suddenly legal either.  One thing I have learned is, the more a thing becomes a taboo, the more people are enticed to investigate and experience it.

This isn't to insinuate that I advocate drug use.  I don't.  But I am insinuating that my rights should stop where someone elses start.  Yours should too.

If cannabis was legal, billions of dollars wouldn't be flowing back and forth between the drug lords, buyers, our own government and law enforcement officials.  By the way, here does all of that siezed money go to when it's been confinscated?  I'm curious because, for the wealth that's been taken in during busts, oddly, my taxes haven't decreased.  Have yours?

If you think I'm wrong, you're welcome to explain to me why.  But, fair warning, my opinion won't be swayed until someone can show me that drug laws have worked.

So far, I'm only seeing that they've caused a great deal more harm than good.

I understand many of the photos were likely offensive. They offended me too. But, they definitely help put things in perspective.

That's it for this one. 

God bless you, thank you for the read, and please don't forget to thank a veteran at your next opportunity!

femmeflashpoint

Shenanigans

With the state elections, primary elections and the Texas Republican Convention behind us, there seems to be a bit of breath-catching going on.

It won't last long with National Convention coming up soon, but the short reprieve has been appreciated by several folks who've been working very hard on the campaign trail.

I was thrilled to hear Jennifer Hall won the election for Tarrant County Chair, and equally happy to hear Jonathan Stickland has been elected as Texas State Representative in District 92. 

Jen Hall addressing guests at the Lincoln Day dinner 2012.

Jonathan Stickland with two of his main ladies at the
Fort Worth Stockyards.

It's nice to see hard work pay off, and see folks who are committed to being constitutionally-adherant representatives of "We The People" make it into positions to where they have opportunities to make the changes needed to restore liberty.  You know?  The sort of liberty promised to U.S. citizens in the U.S. Constitution?  I haven't experienced it yet, but it's exciting reading about it.  It'd be phenominal if it was actually brought back into existence.  I'm right fond of the idea of liberty, and very thankful to those who are working so hard to get it restored to U.S. citizens.

Election day was a gut-buster for both candidates and campaigners.  There was also some sorry-sneaky-business going on in attempts to throw wrenches in the works.  I'll be happy to give you a wider explanation on that a bit later.  There's no way to make it pretty, but Texas voters in my area should be made aware of it in event they see those folks on ballots any time in the future.  Falsifying Tarrant County Republican Club - PAC endorsement cards is downright naughty.  And, for the record, Jen Hall and Jonathan Strickland were endorsed by the TCRC - PAC. :)

For now, I'd like to extend my thanks to the employees of the Subway on N. Beach in Fort Worth.  When Lukas and I showed up during the lunch-rush on election day, asking for 26 foot-long subs, and an equal amount of chips, this bunch made it happen and didn't complain.  Two of them put our order together while the third managed the other orders coming through in the line behind us.  They even boxed everything up so we could get it to the car easier and deliver them to folks working the polls throughout Fort Worth. 

In the midst of the election and convention flurry, my compadres and I at my "other" job have been enduring the stress of transition that comes with a company buy-out.  Those of us who were hired by the previous owners, came onto our jobs as emergency response agents.  The new owners have restructured our positions to include, and require sales ... as in actually selling and having to make a quota.

I've never liked sales, and have never enjoyed the company of, or even trusted, many sales people.  I can think of about five that I actually consider to have enough integrity for me to consider them to be decent people.

I'm not alone in my attitude towards sales and sales people, and with the stress that has been piled on our shoulders in regards to this new requirement, the transition has not been an easy, or an enjoyable one.

In their attempt to maintain as positive of an environment as is possible where sales is the name of the game, S.Elf and April-May-June have outdone themselves in providing smiles via effervescent attire.

April-May-June

If only you could hear
her impression of a Yankee-Bridezilla. :)
She really should get her own show ...

April-May-June, the Birthday Diva, and Queen S.Elf, who sewed the entirety of the medievil gown she's wearing.

I've been informed that this is how the West was won ....

Being in good company while at work tends to keep my locked jaw and teeth-grinding to a minimum.

Just a heads up, there are new photos and commentary in the Pack Rides blog that's worth having a look at, especially if you have a bike and live in the Indiana-Kentucky-Illinois tri-state area.  Just click the link.  It'll get you there ... to the blog, not the tri-state.

To all you good DADS out there, HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!!!
That's it for this one.  Thank you for the read!  God bless you, and don't forget to thank a Veteran at your next opportunity!

femmeflashpoint

Magic Touch

Most of us are familiar with the phrase, "It's lonely at the top."

Since I haven't made it to the top in the literature field, I can't tell you if that's true or not.  I CAN tell you that if being at the top meant isolation from my friends, colleagues and family, I'd not be inclined to go there.

It's the people in my life that give me leads and ideas, and people are what generate the excitement to share what I've discovered.

Therefore, if femmeflashpoint ever reaches the tip of the pinnacle (whatever and wherever that might be) in literary endeavors, I plan to drag all my peeps along with me.  I would have no fun at all if I were up there all by myself.

If there is a rule I'm unaware of that demands I go it alone, once I arrived I could only stay long enough to say, "Wow!  What a view!"  I'd make sure to take as many shots as my camera would hold, and then I'd be on my way back down to tell everyone about it, and show them what I'd seen.

I'm resigned to believe that whoever claimed it was lonely at the top suffered from severe paranoia and maybe had a nasty personality too.

Torres & Kristen Loree
Two bits of awesomeness!

And so, to my many friends and family who make my life rich, including those of who whom I've never met in person (yes, it's actually possible to grow a great friendship via the internet), I have to extend a huge THANK YOU!!



I sincerely appreciate you for encouraging me, for checking on me when I'm  quiet (I admit, quiet doesn't happen often with me), for putting up with the tribal-temper, and the excitement that turns me into a chatterbox when I've come across something I deem marvelous!  Thanks for reading my work and not smacking me down when it wasn't up to par.

Keeping us in smiles on the job.  It's an impressive feat,
considering we were hired as Response Agents,
to help people, and now we've been reduced to sales reps performing
product-peddlers.
S. Elf (right) is forever engaged in "Blues Defiance" and
she usually wins!  You go, girls!
Thanks Leah and S.Elf for brightening things up!

To those who leave comments, I could just HUG you for taking the time to drop me a line on the blog, or whatever articles I've written.  And the same goes to those who've sent me emails with encouraging content.

From the end of February through the beginning of May, I was ill frequently, and not able to put a decent paragraph together.  My thanks to the Lethal Leprechaun for waiting until I was able to get back to work before he started whipcracking at my procrastination.  No worries.  It was all for the good.  I was feeling a bit lost with how to pick up where I'd left off, and was in need of a few jump-starts.  It worked, and I'm grateful that he and his feline-cohort, the Ninja-Cat, took the time to threaten me. :)

Those in my area that are always in contact with me, and making sure I keep in touch personally, and take time to come up for air between work and the job, you're the bomb!  It helps more than I can say to keep me focused on the reality of life beyond the job and the keyboard.

Now, I have some information to share with you that you will hopefully take into consideration, because it's important and has the potential to make your life much, MUCH better!

I know loads of folks who make a choice on what to spend $40 to $60 on, in doing something for their personal good.  A large percentage of those folks have physical maladies, that can be corrected, or at least relieved by a big margin if they put their monies in the right direction.  Yet, instead of investing their finances into their health, they invest it in manicures, pedicures, a new purse, an expensive dinner, hair color, or whatever else catches their eye and results in a "I must have it!" reaction.  (Book purchases, of course, are not included in the list ... )

Jeannie Schmidt
Massage and Accupressure Therapist

  There are individuals, in most areas, whose services are available that can do sooooo much more for you than a new purse can do.  Those individuals are massage and accupressure specialists who have the know-how and talent to not only bring relief from various pains and skeleto-muscular restrictions, to enhancing your energy levels, decreasing your stress, and even helping you with better mental processing and focus.

Some are certified, and some aren't.  Certifications aren't something I grant significance to.  I'm always more inclined to pay attention to talent, intuition and remarks from other clients, rather than an educational background.  To add to that, many forms of massage technique used by massage specialists, were discovered in rock carvings that are centuries old.  I'm doubting those who carved them were packing a piece of paper declaring a collegiate- issued degree.

The local specialist I want to introduce you, does happen to be certified, and has logged six years in the massage therapy industry.  She studied at the American Institute of Allied Health, and is an expert in Swedish, deep-tissue, Lomilomi, Thai, pre-natal and pediatric massage and accupressure techniques.  She also specializes in carpal tunnel pain relief and prevention.  However, it's her talent that impresses me, not her scholastic credentials.

Her name is Jeannie Schmidt and she practices in the DFW Metroplex.  Beyond the innate talent she utilizes in her work, she's got a bright disposition and is very knowledgeable about the results her work will bring.  She insists on taking the time to get acquainted with her clients, and thoroughly assess their needs before she administers therapy.  Once she gets started, she lets their body signals tell her how to proceed.

Jeannie is available until 1500 (that's 3 p.m. for civilian readers) at XpresSpa in DFW International Airport, for clients who have time for a treatment before boarding a flight.  After 1600 (that's right, 4 p.m. - glad you're keeping up with the lingo), she's available for in-home and office treatments.

She brings everything she needs for private clients requesting massage, accupressure, soaks and exfoliations, and she does it for only $40 to $60.  It's pretty much effortless on the client's part.  They only have to make the appointment.  She does all the work to make it happen and it's at an more than reasonable price.

  I'd have no issue with doing my own manicures if it meant choosing between a manicure and a shiatsu treatment.  There's simply no contest.  Jeannie wins, and so do her clients in long term beneficial effects.

I'm promoting her for two reasons.  I know she's really good at what she does, and her intent is to be able to make a good living by truly helping people.  I've talked with a few of her clients, and I've heard nothing but rave reviews on her work.

If you're in the DFW metroplex, either on a layover, or living in the area, do yourself a favor and get in touch with her.  It's a great investment to make, not only in a local and independent entrepaneur, but an incredibly beneficial investment in yourself.

Jeannie can be reached via email at bambooplant-21@hotmail.com.  You can reach her at XpresSpa via the following: Terminal D; South Retail Hall Near Gate D20; Tel: (972) 973-4466; E-mail: info@xpresspa.com; Hours: 7AM - 9PM ...

I'd include her personal phone number as well (which she offered) but I didn't want her to get deluged with phone calls while she's working, or the undesireable calls from folks who have less than honorable intentions in contacting her.  She's a Christian, is engaged to a great guy, and is a stickler for maintaining professionalism with her clients.

If you have a massage and/or accupressure specialist in your area, that offers services you can afford, and whose work you trust, and you still haven't hired them for a treatment, I have one word for you.  Loser!

To give you an update, new photos have been added to the Veterans Honors page.  I have many more to add, as well as a journal sent from a soldier that has been kind enough to allow me to include his writing in the page.

That's it for this one!

My thanks for the read, God bless, and don't forget to thank a veteran at your next opportunity!!

femmeflashpoint