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About padresteve

I'm a Navy Chaplain and Old Catholic Priest

July 18, 2009 · 13:36

Crossing the Mendoza Line: It’s not All about the Lifetime Batting Average

Hammock Grand Slam Robby Hammock Crossing the Plate after his Grand Slam in the Bottom of the 6th against Charlotte

When I was playing baseball I hit somewhere around the Mendoza line. I was never much of a hitter but I made up for my lack of hitting by being pretty solid defensively, a pretty versatile utility player and hustling on every play. Likewise I would be the guy encouraging other players. On two different teams in two different sports I was named the “Most Inspirational Player” by my teammates. Being the most inspirational player does not mean that you are a particularly good ballplayer but rather that you add something else to the team dynamic. In fact you may not be admired for how well you play, but rather how hard you try and how you get along with your team mates. I was talking to my dad who is now in a nursing home with end stage Alzheimer’s disease on my last visit. In a rare moment I had him back talking baseball I thanked him for how he helped me learn to love the game, pitch and field, especially fielding. I said to him, the only thing that you didn’t do was teach me to hit. He looked up at me and said “Son, there are a lot of people who can’t hit, it’s a gift.” So I guess I was doomed to be a Mendoza Line player.

Mario Mendoza played for the Pirates and Mariners. To be kind he was an amazing defensive shortstop but he as my dad would have said” Couldn’t hit his way out of a wet paper bag.” His career average was .215 although he often flitted and flirted with the .180 – .200 level. He never played in an All Star game or World Series. He never hit more than two home runs in a season, in fact one was an inside the park job playing for the Mariners and he hit below .200 in five of his nine major league seasons. However, despite that Mario Mendoza lives on in baseball, his name forever associated with a low batting average. In modern baseball parlance the Mendoza line is considered a batting average of .200. Credit for who coined the term goes depending on your source to either George Brett, the All-Star Third Baseman of the Kansas City Royals or fellow Seattle Mariners Tom Paciorek or Bruce Bochte from whom Brett may have heard the term. Either way the term stuck after ESPN commentator Chris Berman who used the term in 1988 to describe the hitting struggles of a star power hitter. Once Berman made the comment it became a pretty standard way of denoting guys who struggle at the plate. Mexican sportscaster Oscar Soria corroborates the Paciorek and Bochte version referencing a conversation with Mario Mendoza while Mendoza was managing the Obregon Yaquis in the Mexican Pacific League who stated that Mendoza said “that Tom Paciorek was the first to mention the phrase “Mendoza Line” when he read the Sunday paper” and that “then George Brett heard about that.” Soria then discussed how Mendoza was initially angered by Berman’s use of the term but now “he enjoys the fame of the phrase Mendoza line.” For a really good discussion of the Mendoza Line see the article in the Baseball Almanac at: http://www.baseball-almanac.com/books/mendozas_heroes_book.shtml, from which the information above is gleaned.

Now my buddy Elliott the Usher and I have frequent discussions about the game discussing pitching, hitting, fielding, base running, prospects, scouting and strategy. Elloitt is one of those gems of Baseball knowledge, his love and knowledge of the game shows in the way he deals with people including Major League Scouts, players from the Tides and visiting team who are charting the game and others. I really think that he should be hired as a commentator or color man on some baseball broadcast. This season we have enjoyed a lot of laughs as well as had a lot great talks amid the joys and sorrows of the season. One of our frequent subjects of discussion is players on our team as well as the visiting teams who are hitting near or below the Mendoza Line. We have a few on the Tides who are hovering at or below the Mendoza line. A couple of these players are former Major Leaguers and a couple career minor league guys. Last night I decided to venture out for the first time in two days since I was now getting a case of “cabin fever” and my cocktail of Vicodin, Motrin and Amoxicillin seemed to have my pain and swelling a bit more under control. Judy said my cheek still looks “like a squirrel’s” but at least I wasn’t in too bad of pain, though when I got up in the morning and until 2 or 3 PM I was still pretty sore and tired. At least for the majority of the game the pain was manageable and of course as soon as I got home I dumped a butt load of meds down me and went to sleep.

Last night the Tides swept a double header from the Charlotte Knights who are the AAA affiliate of the Chicago White Sox. Since the game was rain delayed after a series of severe storms raked the area in the two hours prior to the first pitch it was not well attended. Because of this I was able to flit between my buddies Barry down in section 102 and Elliott. It was good to be able in a fairly relaxed atmosphere to talk about the game. The Tides had lost the last game prior to the All Star Break in Durham and then the first game back from the break. In those two games their hitting died and they were outscored 16-3. Last night Chris Tillman was throwing an outstanding game having given up just one run in the first inning. It wasn’t until the 6^th inning until the Tides scored their first run with one out when Michael Aubry doubled to score Justin Turner to tie the game 1-1. The Tides then loaded the bases and Brandon Pinkney struck out for the second out. At this point with the bases loaded, Elliott and I gave a mutual groan. One of our “below the Mendoza Line” batters, catcher Robby Hammock was coming to the plate. Robby is a good defensive catcher and while playing for the Arizona Diamondbacks caught Randy Johnson’s perfect game in 2003. However this year has seen Robby really struggle at the plate. The count went to two and from the way Robby had been swinging the bat tonight Elliott turned to me and said “I can’t look.” Robby then fouled off the next pitch. I said “Elliott he’s dragging this out.” Then I yelled “Hey Mendoza! Get a hit!” At this point Robby who is currently hitting .190 stood back into the batter’s box. The pitch from Knight’s reliever John Link was a slider that didn’t cut and Robby planted it in the picnic area in Left Center for a Grand Slam home run. Elliott and I rejoiced, Robby had maybe gotten the hit that would re-ignite the team for the second half of the season. This blew the game open and the Tides went on to win 5-1. Robby was quoted in the Virginia Pilot today about the hit “I closed my eyes and put my bat in the spot” and “I felt decent today, I just got lucky and that’s all there was to it.” Tides fans are not complaining even if it was lucky, I’m happy for you Robby, you helped get us back on track enjoy the moment and keep hanging in there.

The hitting surge continued in the second game. Jeff Fiorentino and Michael Aubrey, who are .300 hitters, Fiorentino about .325 right now and way above the Mendoza Line each had 2 hits and drove in two runs while our other way below the Mendoza Line players had a good night. Infielder Carlos Rojas was in at Third due to injuries that forced Manager Gary Allenson to reshuffle the line up. Carlos is a pretty good defensive player with pretty good range. However he was only hitting .156 going into the game but went 2-3 with two singles in what I think was his first multi-hit game of the season. Catcher Chad Moeller who has struggled at the plate since coming down from Baltimore when Matt Wieters was called up also doubled and scored a run as the Tides took the second game 5-1 with Chris Waters getting the win.

All in all it was not a bad night for our guys living below the Mendoza line; hopefully they will all get themselves up above it. As a member of the Mendoza Line club myself I hope that they all do well and that last night is a harbinger of things to come. Today my mouth feels a bit better than yesterday though I woke up in some pain. I plan on seeing tonight’s game with Judy as the Tides hopefully will extend their International League South Division lead over the Durham Bulls by defeating the Knights here again.

Coming back to the Mendoza Line itself the way that guys like Mendoza make their mark is by the intangibles that they bring to the game. Some of the “Mendoza’s” went on in other ways to make a difference in the game through coaching, managing, scouting at the Major or Minor League level, as well as in sports media, announcing or writing. Some would include guys like Tony LaRussa career .199 average in 10 seasons, Charlie Manuel .198 in 6 seasons, Bob Uecker career .200 in 6 Major League seasons, Sparky Anderson who hit .218 in one season in the Majors and once said “I led the league in “Go get ’em next time.” Tommy Lasorda was a pitcher and had a 0-4 record and 6.48 ERA in three major league seasons as well as Earl Weaver who never made it to the Majors. All made lasting marks on the game and all were way below the Mendoza line.

The application to baseball players and non-ball players alike when you find yourself at the Mendoza Line is to make the most out of what you have. Play to your strengths and know that if you do this you will make a mark, even if it is not at the plate. I figure as a somewhat well trained and experienced theologian, historian, military officer and Priest that the Deity Herself understands bad days, and lackluster careers and still helps us get through life. So anyway, as a Mendoza Line alumnus I say to all those hovering around the line, find a way to make your mark and do well, I’m cheering for you as are all the other Mendoza’s among the Saints in Heaven.

Peace, Steve+

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Filed under Baseball, philosophy

Tagged as alzheimer's disease, arizona diamondbacks, bob uecker, brandon pinkney, bruce bochte, chad moeller, charlie manuel, charlotte knights, chris berman, chris tillman, chris waters, earl weaver, elliott the usher, espn, gary allenson, george brett, grand slam home run, international league, jeff fiorentino, justin turner, kansas city royals, lifetime batting average, mario mendoza, mendoza line, mexican pacific league, michael aubry, most inspirational player, motrin, norfolk tides, Obregon Yaquis, oscar soria, pittsburgh pirates, randy johnson, robby hammock, seattle mariners, sparky anderson, tom paciorek, tommy lasorda, tony larussa, vicodin

July 17, 2009 · 23:14

Going to War: A Bus Ride to the Carolina Countryside

This is part four in my “Going to War” series. Previous parts are noted here:

Part One:Going to War: Reflections on My Journey to Iraq and Back- Part One

Past Two: Going to War: Interlude July 4th 2007

Part Three: Going to War: Wills, Living Wills, Immunizations Gone Bad and Christmas in July

Part Four: Going to War: Last Night together and a Kiss Goodbye

Nelson and I staged our gear as we waited for the buses to arrive to take us to Fort Jackson South Carolina where we were to receive our training for the deployment. As we talked other sailors arrived and gear was stacked in rows of sea bags just off of the sidewalk. Nelson’s parents, brother and sister were on hand to see him off. His brother is a First Class Petty Officer and his dad a former Vietnam era Marine Recon NCO who made several deployments “in the shit” as many Vietnam vets call tours in that combat zone. They were really nice folks. Over the years I had heard much about them. They are close to each other and all are supportive of Nelson.

Nelson is a career amateur boxer; kick boxer, martial artist and more recently MMA fighter. He is active in children’s martial arts instruction and has been on Team USA and fought internationally. During his Afghanistan deployment before he and I hooked up again he helped coach the fledgling Afghan National Boxing Team. His last major title was just this year when he won the Arnold Schwarzenegger Classic. The guy has more titles than you can imagine, his title belt collect could fill a room. However, he was raised by a boxer, his dad. His dad taught him and coached him growing up and helped Nelson win multiple New York State Golden Gloves titles. His dad is a congenial man and who was very friendly, speaking English with a heavy Puerto Rican accent. Nelson’s mom speaks some English. Nelson tells a great story of the only time he was knocked out in a fight. This happened at the Fort Apache Gym in the Bronx after Nelson had gone picking on his little sister when Nellie was about seventeen. Nelson’s dad found out, told him to put on his gloves and get in the ring. Nelson proceeded to talk trash to his dad as he got ready to fight and the first round got quite a few hits in on his dad. In between rounds according to Nelson’s account he told his dad to quit, that he was too old to be in the same ring with him. Nelson said that his dad simply commented “I was just letting you taste the water.” The second round began and Nelson was hit by a combination from his dad, which he says “rung his bell” and made him “see stars.” He remembers trying to get up and not being able to while his dad was talking trash to him. I cannot do the story justice but meeting Nelson’s family was a joy.

So we waited while the other sailors gathered, some individually and some with family. Some stood alone as couples while others mingled with each other. For most this was a new way to see their sailor deploy. No pier side goodbyes, no banners, no manning the rails by the crew as the ship was nudged away from the pier by tugs. When you have a “normal” deployment of a ship or something like a Marine battalion it is a big deal. Media is there, sometimes there are speeches, but most of all there is the understanding that we are all in this together. The families say goodbye to their Sailors, Marines or Soldiers who are going to war together and leaving some kind of familiar support system for the families. This is not so when you deploy individually. We may have been going off to train together, but few would stay together on the deployment. Normally as a chaplain you are a known quantity to the people that you go to war with. I was going to war with Nelson but we would not remain with any sailors who were going through this process with us. I know that was the case for others who would serve in isolated posts, often without any other Navy personnel, mostly working with the Army in support roles, and specialized roles such as the Electronic Warfare Officers detailed to work on defeating IEDs and roadside bombs. As others said their goodbyes and hugged each other I thought of Judy and knew that she was going to be down for some time but I felt that for once that she had an adequate support network.

I looked at our gear as opposed to the others. Our gear was in different deployment bags, ours were large and rectangular and more of a coyote or sand color while most everyone else had traditional green sea bags, or what are known in the Army as “duffle bags.” We had all of our personal protective equipment or the EOD/Special Warfare type while others would receive some variation of Army issue at Fort Jackson. There are pros and cons to such a arrangement. The pro is that we had great gear certainly some of the best in theater. The con was that we had to lug the great gear everywhere we went going to and coming back from war. This would get old, but the benefits do outweigh the advantages when you are actually in a combat zone.

Finally an officer came out and began calling role and giving us our signed “official” orders. After we were accounted for we were told to load our gear on the buses that would take us to Fort Jackson. I think there were four or five of these chartered tour buses which as it turned out would be the first of many tour buses, roll calls and gear loads in the coming months, especially as we entered and exited theater. Nelson and I got on the same bus which was not full and took seats near the front. I got a seat alone because I was the senior officer on the bus and a chaplain to boot. This was not because I asked for it or hogged the seat. It is actually fairly typical in such a setting where young enlisted guys don’t want to sit next to an officer and some are afraid of chaplains because of experiences that they have had in civilian churches. Some of the young folks have never darkened the door of a church and many of those that have been in church have been burned in relationships with pastors or really over the top religious people. I have found in my career that until they get to know a Chaplain a lot of them will be very careful in how they approach a chaplain, even those with a vibrant faith. Some are afraid that the chaplain might try to convert them or disapprove of the manner in which they live their lives. So as a chaplain I need to be cognizant of this fact and be friendly and caring without scaring them away. Of course I did build relationships with a quite a number of these sailors during the next few weeks but on this bus I was still an unknown quantity to them. Sitting alone however was good for me since I general despise bus travel regardless of the company I keep. For some reason my height works against me, I can never get my feet comfortably on the ground on these new tour buses and I have a terrible time getting comfortable. Since bus travel takes forever to get anywhere the discomfort is palpable. Now I did a three month tour on buses in 1979 while touring as a spotlight tech for the Continental Singers and Orchestra across the US and in Europe. Somehow the old Greyhound buses were more comfortable than the new tour buses. Maybe I’m just nostalgic but they somehow fit people like me better than the fancy new buses.

When you travel by bus with a bunch of sailors, the majority of whom are at least 20 years younger than you, the experience can be entertaining to say the least. Part of course is a generational thing. I am from the 60’s 70’s and 80’s. These guys and gals are from the 90’s and 2000’s. Music is different, culture is different, and the internet, cell phones, i-phones and Blackberries have revolutionized communications and life. The trip was a chance for me to observe a lot about these sailors just by watching. Some had their portable i-pods and MP-3 players going, others spent time talking on cell phones, a few read or talked among themselves, but the sailors near me gravitated to the DVD movie which was 300 the comic book style account of the Spartan’s defense of Thermopylae against the Persians. As the Spartans made their stand I could see the young sailors who were going to war taking inspiration from King Leonditis of Sparta. Since we were going into a place where 50-100 Americans a month were being killed and many others wounded and maimed I could understand the need for inspiration along with entertainment.

The bus ride itself was a lot like what I imagine that Minor League teams take in the Carolinas like in the movie Bull Durham, the coaches and older players mixed in with a lot of young guys. The older guys staying pretty quiet and to themselves and the young guys having fun, playing games and joking around with each other, We made a couple of stops, one at some little Interstate town with a fair amount of gas stations and a few fast food places. About half the folks went to the McDonalds where we pulled in while the rest ran down the street to the Burger King and Taco Bell. Once everyone had their fill the buses pulled back out onto the interstate. When we finally got near Columbia the buses got of the Interstate highway and onto some small two lane state highway. We drove down this road about twenty to thirty minutes and pulled into what appeared to be a tiny out of the way base. I wondered where the hell we were. Fort Jackson is a fairly large training base where thousands of recruits are trained every year. Where we were certainly was not the Fort Jackson that I had imagined.

Instead of the main post we were at the South Carolina National Guard training facility called Camp McCready. It is here that the Naval Expeditionary Combat Command has a training center set up with the Army to train sailors in basic combat tasks.

Our welcome that first night was simple. We formed up, checked in, got our linens for our standard issue military beds and were marched to dinner at the chow hall or in the Army vernacular the DFAC by our newest and bestest buddies, our Army Drill Sergeants. In the chow hall or DFAC we were met by a civilian running the line. I can’t remember his name but this guy was really nice and put the RED in “Redneck.” He made jokes with everyone that came through the line, asked where people were from and what they did. When he found out that I was a chaplain he began to ask me for a joke every meal thereafter. As Nelson and I sat down for chow with a couple of other sailors we looked at each other. He said: “Boss I don’t think some of these guys know what is coming.” I said “I think that your right partner, hopefully they adjust and do well.” The other sailors, both more senior petty officers nodded in agreement.

Going back to the barracks I met some of the other officers enjoying their first night at Camp McCready. More sailors to fill out the class were due later coming in from San Diego. I introduced myself to a number of the officers near me and when lights out was called lay down on the same type of bed that I had first encountered some twenty five years before at Camp Roberts California and Fort Lewis Washington. I swear the sheets, blankets and pillowcases were of the same vintage. Despite that I fell asleep fairly quickly.

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Filed under iraq,afghanistan, Military, Tour in Iraq

Tagged as 300, Army, bull durham, camp mccready, camp roberts ca, chaplain corps, chow hall, continental singers, deployment, dfac, electronic warfare officers, eod, fort lewis wa, fot jackson sc, golden gloves, ied, iraq, king leonditis, Military, minor league baseball, mma fighter, navy, navy expeditionary combat command, nelson lebron, schwarzenegger classic, south carolina army national guard, spartans, vietnam, vietnam veterans

July 16, 2009 · 22:22

Killing off the Undead Tooth of Terror

stooges dentist 2 Yesterday I Might have taken these Guy’s Offer

The battle was brutal. Yesterday the Undead Tooth of Terror held me in its grip more tightly than any time in the past several days. Judy drove us home from West Virginia and last night as soon as we got back I was met by the on-call dentist and oral surgeon. They bought me some relief for the night but I still didn’t sleep much having been tanked up on caffeine just to make it through the trip, the whole yin and yang of uppers and downers together. This morning I got up and went in to work, my tooth and mouth in a bit of pain but not the 10.5 to 12.9 on the scale of 10 that I had yesterday. The Undead Tooth of Terror may have been down but he was not yet out.

I met the dentist from last night as well as the Oral Surgeon who is the department head. The people at the desk had no clue that I was coming in and were trying to figure things out by calling to the back when the dentist from last night came out, told them exactly what the plan was and had them check me in. I was sent to wait and waiting 5 minutes a nurse came out the get me and ushered me into the oral surgery pavilion. Now you might wonder what difference there is in this and a normal dentist chair and treatment room. So let me tell you. I work at a large teaching hospital and this includes the Dental Department. In fact the dentist who worked on me last night was a first year resident by you would not have known by how well he did and how considerate he was of any possible pain or discomfort that I might experience. Anyway, back to the pavilion. It is large with a number of oral surgery suites. In the suite sits a dental chair. Not just any chair but one that looks like a first class airline seat and much more comfortable than a standard dental chair. The arms were a bit different as they had straps to hold down your arms as well as an IV line for the times they put someone to sleep when doing the surgery. It looked like it could have been like a set up for prison lethal injection room. I guess if we move to a Soylent Green end of life deal these would be in your neighborhood. Since I had no need of lethal injection or for that matter being put to sleep for the procedure these meant nothing to me. However when I have my implant they will do this. The rest of the room has a good amount of equipment not seen in a normal dentist treatment room.

I got in the chair and they went through the checklist to make sure that I was me and want procedure was being done. I was read the consent form which asked of potential complications of the surgery. These were interesting, thankfully I did not expect complications although because the tooth was so weak there was a strong possibility that it could shatter and would have to be cut out. Preliminaries completed I was given a topical anesthetic followed by about four or five shots into the right side of my mouth, which because of the local I did not feel. Then they went to work. I couldn’t see anything but could hear and feel, albeit without pain what they were doing. Things didn’t take too long, maybe 20 minutes to remove the tooth if that. It had come out in several pieces as they suspected, but thankfully the roots were straight and they didn’t have to do any real gymnastics to get it out. I looked at the damned thing which was in several pieces on the small instrument table in front of me. It was like looking at Dracula after you had staked him and before he turned to dust. I amazement I asked if I could take it home with me and was told that I could not because it was now “hazardous waste.” Hell I thought it was hazardous before it was waste. I told the dentist and nurse that I was hoping to take it home so I could put it under the pillow for the tooth fairy. The dentist said that he didn’t think that she would give very much for it but I said I thought that it was worth a try. When all was said and done I was given an SIQ chit for two days. SIQ means “sick in quarters” and is basically the Navy’s way of saying “Go home dummy. Follow the doctor’s directions and take care of yourself.” I really only expected one day, but as I started hurting again some tonight I realized that I could not do my 24 hour on call shift tomorrow without making things much worse for me. Following the surgery the site of the now really dead Undead Tooth of Terror was packed with gauze to soak up the blood. I ended up changing the gauze three times before the site stopped bleeding.

When I got home I realized that I had forgotten to drop off a prescription for more Vicodin so I had to drive back and drop it off at our pharmacy. Thankfully traffic was light and I got there and back pretty quick and will get the prescription tomorrow as the line was huge and I was in no condition to wait an hour to get it as I had a couple left. Once I was home I fell asleep for about 3 hours. I got up, had a light dinner and took it easy. The pain started back up about 9 PM and so I took my meds and am getting ready to go to bed. I expect that I should sleep well for the first time tonight. The Undead Tooth of Terror is no more but I still bear the scars of my encounter with the beast from the pit of hell. Patently the Deity Herself was with me through this and will take care of me tonight even if I don’t get a visit from the tooth fairy.

Thank you for your prayers encouragement and support. Thanks especially to Judy who threw herself on the proverbial grenade yesterday to drive me home even though she was extremely tired and not feeling that well herself. I have a follow up next week for this procedure and my initial visit for the implant in six weeks.

Peace, Steve+

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Filed under healthcare, Loose thoughts and musings, Military

Tagged as anesthetic, dental chairs, dentists, dracula, lethal injection, oral surgeon, oral surgery, pain, portsmouth naval medical center, siq, soylent green, the undead, tooth extraction, tooth fairy, tooth implant, tooth of terror, vicodin, west virginia

July 15, 2009 · 23:22

My Home World Visit: Some things Change and some don’t….and the Terror of the Undead Tooth

The last time that I visited the Home World, aka West Virginia was before I left for Iraq. While this is my family’s Home World it is only mine by default having worked there briefly after my residency. Now because I was a West Virginia resident when I entered active duty in 1999 it is our home of record for all of my military administrative and pay purposes. This means that we maintain our West Virginia driver’s licenses, vote in West Virginia elections and since we are out of state have no state income tax liability.

West Virginia, in the heart of Appalachia is an interesting place. It was became a state in 1863 when the western counties of Virginia, which had seceded from the Union, seceded from Virginia and were recognized by the Federal Government. My family goes back on both sides to the late 1700s in the state where they were early pioneers having moved west from Pennsylvania. The Dundas side of the family had emigrated from Scotland in the late 1740s settling initially in Philadelphia where the early settlers served as suppliers of the Continental Congress and Army in the War for Independence and are buried in Christ Church cemetery near Independence Hall, the same cemetery where Benjamin Franklin and other notables from the early history of the United States are buried. The family which settled in Cabell County owned a great deal of property along the Mud River and the James River Turnpike where they prospered by not necessarily being nice. They built a plantation and owned slaves, the exact number I do not know. They also sort of acted as highwaymen charging travelers along the turnpike to go through their land, in a sense they were the progenitors of the toll booths on the West Virginia Turnpike. Their prosperity last through the Civil War in which they sided with the Virginians who seceded from the Union and not those that seceded from Virginia. When the war ended the family patriarch decided that he didn’t like the results and as a Lieutenant in the 8^th Virginia Cavalry Regiment refused to sign the loyalty oath when the Confederacy surrendered. Of course Officers like Robert E. Lee did so, so the refusal was kind of stupid. As a result the Federal Government seized almost all of the family land save for the homestead and a parcel donated to Mud River Baptist Church and the Blue Sulfur cemetery where as my cousin by marriage Betty says “all the good Dundas’s are buried.” Thus my family became just another working family. My parents were born in Huntington in the 1930s. At that time Huntington was a booming city. It was a rail hub as well as the site of many heavy industries including the manufacture of railroad cars, steel, nickel, glassware, chemicals and automotive parts. It was also the home of Marshall University. This boom lasted until the 1960s and early 1970s as industries moved out or shut down, the population which once numbered about 100,000 dwindled to barely 50,000 in 2008. The city did nothing to help itself when it refused to let the Interstate Highway go down through the waterfront. The diversion of I-64 helped destroy the downtown and contributed to the move of many people to the outlying areas of the county. As a result the areas along the Mud River gained both business and population leaving the city with fewer business, people and tax revenue. Of course had my ancestor decided to sign the loyalty oath all of this would have been on our family land and the family would be wealthy. The sins and stupidity of the previous generations do truly affect their descendants. What a Dumb-Ass.

So my dad joined the Navy and I was the first one of my family born out of West Virginia. Now we would go back often to visit my grandparents as well as other relatives and I have some fond memories of visits to Huntington in the 1960s and early 1970s. Back then Huntington was still fairly affluent by West Virginia standards. When I moved back after my residency in late December 1994 Huntington was a different town. The city was smaller and areas that had once been nice were run down. Gangs and drug lords from Detroit and Columbus made Huntington, which once had a very low crime rate a pretty sporty place. Instead of industry service industries like telemarketing became major employers joining Marshall University, Cabell-Huntington Hospital and Saint Mary’s hospitals as the economic base of the city. The few remaining heavy industries were much smaller than they had been even a decade before. Since I left to join the Navy in 1999 the city has continued its decline. In spite of major expansions of the University, both Hospitals the opening of a new campus and University medical center a revitalized downtown much of the city is in disrepair and once nice neighborhoods are blighted. There are signs of hope as the city and state are making concerted efforts to fight the drugs and gangs, while corrupt officials who allowed the infrastructure to collapse leaving the city in violation of EPA and other federal agency regulations.

The decline has affected everything, even churches. The church that I was baptized at as a infant, Southside Methodist is shut down, the congregation merged with several others at another location. Other formerly influential congregations of various denominations have shut down and in some cases the buildings demolished. The city lost its Minor League baseball franchise in 1994 and it has not been replaced. The population is now significantly older and poorer. One only has to visit stores like Wal-Mart and see how poor people look and how bad their state of health is to understand how the city has fallen.

One thing that surprised me was walking down 3^rd Avenue after departing the Marshall Hall of Fame Café and seeing two young let’s say late teens, early twenties girls wrapped around each other at a bus stop French kissing and pawing all over each other. For a second I thought someone had turned on Cinemax, this was definitely not the West Virginia that I remembered growing up. Now I know that Huntington is a college town but I still was not expecting this. Had my paternal grandmother, God rest her soul been there she would have probably taken her cane and forcibly separated them while giving them a piece of her mind. Granny was not to be messed with and even long haired men drew her wrath as what she would have termed improperly clad women who showed more skin than she thought was proper. I’m sure the display of the two young women would have sent her into orbit. Of course I make no judgment on the young women, save perhaps their choice of venue to express their affection for one another. Heck if they had been a hetro-sxcual couple I would have had a similar reaction and Granny would have at least accosted the young man had it been that situation.

Huntington has changed in a lot of ways, but some things remain constant. For me these have been the parks, such as Ritter Park as well as eateries such as Stewarts Hot Dogs and the Frost Top Root Beer stand both of which take one back in time to when things were better. I still like to go back; the pace of life is relaxing if you aren’t in pain. Our trip this time was marked by a nice visit with our friend Patty a couple of visits to Stewarts and a visit to the Marshall Hall of Fame Café. At least the beer at least gave me a bit of relief from the constant pain in my mouth.

As far as the matter of the “undead” tooth goes beginning Sunday night the pain was unmanageable. I could not sleep and no matter how many 800 mg Motrin and Ultram that I took I was still in pain. I might have gotten two hours of bad sleep Sunday night. Monday morning I got up, ate breakfast, took more medicine and went to back to bed. After I got up at noon I went to the Hall of Fame Café for a salad, chili and beer, after which I saw the aforementioned Cinemax girls. Monday night was more of the same and I was wishing for my regular boring insomnia. Tuesday morning I woke up gave up and called our hospital dental clinic. They referred me to the office that approves visits to non-military providers. It took me a while to reach them but when I did they gave me permission and I went to the dentist who took over the practice of our old and recently retired dentist in Huntington. I was x-rayed and the dentist said that the tooth was infected. He wrote a couple of prescriptions, one for amoxicillin and the other for Darvecet a pain reliever. Unfortunately they had no effect on Tuesday night and by the time that we left today I was in worse pain than any time previously. The tooth was making groaning and popping noises throbbing and shooting out sharp pain. By the time we got to the western section of Virginia I knew I had to get some help so I called our dental department. The person at the desk told me to report to sick call in the morning. About an hour later the pain was even worse so I called again about 40 minutes before the clinic closed. I got the automated answering system that told me “thank you for your patience, we value you and you are number one in the queue.” I waited in the “queue” or 40 minutes, my call dropping twice due to bad cell coverage but each time I was still “the first in the queue.” Finally, after the clinic was officially closed I called m ICU and Stacie one of our Critical Care RN’s paged the on-cal dentist. He called me back and told me to come in as soon as I got back in town. When we finally got home we went directly to the hospital where the young dentist waited. He consulted the on-call Oral Surgeon and the two decided to open the tooth back up and grind it down as well as give me a long lasting anesthetic that will take me through the night as well as some good drugs, Vicodin to keep the pain down not the Darvocet which was crap and didn’t touch the pain. So tomorrow I go in early and the dentists will fit me in and excavate the remains of the tooth from my mouth and do some site preservation so I can get the implant later. Thus, my saga completed I will try to get some sleep, unfortunately I am so wired from all the caffeine I took on board today that sleep, even if I am not in pain will be problematic. Thankfully I have been assured that they will send me home when this is done.

Pray for me a sinner,

Peace, Steve+

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July 14, 2009 · 21:37

Going to War: Last Night together and a Kiss Goodbye

This is part four in my “Going to War” series. Previous parts are noted here:

Part One:Going to War: Reflections on My Journey to Iraq and Back- Part One

Past Two: Going to War: Interlude July 4th 2007

Part Three: Going to War: Wills, Living Wills, Immunizations Gone Bad and Christmas in July

Now the time has come to leave you
One more time Let me kiss you
And close your eyes and I’ll be on my way
Dream about the days to come, When I won’t have to leave alone
About the times, That I won’t have to say

Oh, kiss me and smile for me
Tell me that you’ll wait for me
Hold me like you’ll never let me go
Cause Im leavin’ on a jet plane
Don’t know when I’ll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

From “I’m Leaving on a Jet Plane” by John Denver

The night before leaving on deployment and the actual day of departure are some of the hardest that any military couples or families experience. This has certainly been the case with us and this was no different. This time I was not merely going on a ship and being part of a boarding team, the latter which Judy did not know until about halfway through the deployment, but this time going boots on ground into the most bitterly of Iraq’s contested provinces, Al Anbar. The last night together was rather somber to put it mildly. Judy and I went out to dinner on Friday night. Since I knew that I would not be having a good beer for quite some time we went to Gordon Biersch. For us Gordon Biersch is generally a good time kind of place. That last Friday it was not a festive occasion, it was almost like a wake. Judy and I were both quite subdued. In between the silence Judy talked about her fears about the deployment while I tried to reassure her that everything would be fine. My reasoning was that since I had taken out the extra life insurance that I would be okay. For me such logic makes sense. If I don’t get it I will need it and if I do get it I won’t. It’s kind of like Yogi Berra who said “You should always go to other people’s funerals; otherwise, they won’t come to yours.”

After dinner and for me three half liter glasses of Märzen we went back home where I finalized my packing. I ensured that all my field gear, uniforms and clothing were packed and rechecked my EOD issue protective gear. I then packed my Mass kit, Bible, Prayer Book and my Marine Pattern camouflage reversible desert/woodland stole. The stole was special as Judy had made me a few years back from woodland and desert pattern shirts which were way too big for me. My final check were my books on counterinsurgency, a few DVD movies and music CDs and my hygiene items. I wrestled the big bags down the stairs and put them in the back of my Honda CR-V so I wouldn’t have to fight them in the morning. That accomplished Judy and I just sat together, she was feeling pretty low. On the other hand I was a mix of conflicting emotions. I was excited by knowing that I was going to get to do what I had trained all of my life to do, but very cognizant of the reality that it would be tough on Judy. The last couple of deployments had been very tough on her. When I deployed to support the Bosnia mission as a mobilized Army Reservist and newly ordained Priest we had three of my relatives in Huntington West Virginia die. One was my maternal grandmother “Ma Maw” who Judy had become very close to over the past couple of years. They had become buddies and Ma Maw had taken Judy in not as my wife, but as “her” granddaughter. Ma Maw’s death hit Judy very hard and my mom and uncle in the midst of their grief over the loss of their mom understood the depth of the relationship between Judy and Ma Maw and as a result pretty much treated Judy as an unwanted outsider. In the week before Ma Maw’s death Judy tried repeatedly to get Ma Maw to go to the doctor only to be ignored. The morning of Ma Maw’s death Judy called me in Germany to call Ma Maw and insist that she go to the doctor. I called and insisted that she go to the Emergency Room but she refused and said she would call her doctor. That night she died. I had lost my grandmother and could not go back to help and Judy had lost a woman who had become closer to her than her own grandmothers ever had been. In 2001 during my deployment with 3^rd Battalion 8^thMarines to Okinawa, Japan and Korea we lost our 16 ½ year old Wire Haired Dachshund Frieda. Judy did her nest to keep Frieda alive for me, but there was nothing that could be done and finally with Judy being worn down to nothing herself, she was persuaded to have Frieda put down. My 2002 deployment on USS HUE CITY to the Middle East and Horn of Africa came less than six months after my return from Okinawa and was also very difficult on her.

With all of this in the background we spent our last night together. I barely slept as did she. I had a light breakfast and then accompanied by a friend from choir we drove to the base. Saturday morning traffic is generally not too bad so our trip was uneventful, but really tense. You could cut the tension between us by now with a knife. It was about the time that we were nearing the base Judy said something that I took really wrong and sarcastically snapped back “Well I’ll just get blown up by an IED then.” That really hit her hard and I knew immediately that I had blown myself up with the comment. I should have known better, after all I’d deployed a lot and taught pre-deployment classes talking about the emotional cycle of deployments. But the stress on both of us the preceding weeks had taken its toll and both of us were on edge. For two months we had ach in our own way imagined the deployment wondering just what I would face when I got to Iraq, the unanswerable questions of what might happen over there and Judy’s great fear that something might happen to me.

We got to the base pretty quick, though the tension made me feel that the trip was three times as long as it was. As we pulled up in a parking spot near the baggage drop off area we sat there for a few minutes. I got out of the car as did Judy. I asked if she wanted to wait a while with me and with tears in her eyes said that she couldn’t handle the wait. After I unloaded my gear with the help of Nelson who was already there with his gear stacked. He looked at Judy and said, “Don’t you worry ma’am we’ll do good and I’ll keep him safe.” Judy gave a soft “thanks” and gave him a hug. With my gear now next to Nelson’s I went back to Judy. We looked at each other, embraced and kissed each other. We parted and then she went back to the car, handed her friend the keys and they drove off. As she left I said a prayer under my breath and asked God to keep her safe while I was gone. Then I turned to Nelson and said, “Okay partner, let’s get this done.”

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Tagged as 3rd bn 8th marines, al anbar, deployment, gordon biersch, gordon biersch marzen, honda cr-v, i'm leavin' on a jet plane, ied, iraq, japan, john denver, life insurance, okinawa, pre-deployment classes, south korea, uss hue city

July 13, 2009 · 21:10

A Trip to the Home World, Tithing on the Speed Limit, a Tooth Joins the Ranks of the Undead and a Giant No Hitter

Yesterday we made a trip back to my family’s home world, also known as Huntington West Virginia. As far as home worlds go it is probably on no one’s top ten lists, probably ranking about as high as Qo’noS, the Klingon home world in terms of places that you would go to on holiday. However it is my family’s ancestral home for the past 200 plus years since coming from Scotland, Ireland and France. Now I was not born in West Virginia, though my parents were born there as were three of my four grandparents. I was actually the first of my generation born outside of the state as my dad was still in the beginning stages of his Navy career and was stationed at Naval Air Station Alameda California and I was born at Oak Knoll Naval Hospital in California. Even so Huntington was a place that served as a touchstone for our lives as my dad was transferred from one place to another on the west coast. We would return almost every summer, usually travelling by train in the days before Amtrack. Back then three of four grandparents as well as one set of great grandparents we still alive along with a butt-load of aunts, uncles and cousins. In 4^th grade we lived there while my dad found us suitable housing in Long Beach California after being transferred from Washington State. That was the year of three schools and four teachers for me, but I digress.

It was during that year that my great grandfather died and my grandfather was diagnosed with a golf ball sized yet benign brain tumor. It was also the adjustment form the kinder and gentler west coast schools to a much stricter standard in Huntington. I was also as we had come in from Long Beach I was nicknamed “City Slicker” and had to fight for my life. A couple of school yard brawls later which I cannot say that I won but in which I gave good account of myself I was accepted so far as a “City Slicker” could be. The thing was though that I had lived in a town of only about 8,000 inhabitants for 4 years prior to moving to Long beach for just over a month. The kids in Huntington were far more “City Slicker” than little old me. I had poor penmanship because in Kindergarten my teacher took the pencil out of my left hand and stuck it in my right hand. This was of no comfort when my teacher whacked my hand with a steel ruler since my penmanship was so bad. What good this did I have no idea except to maybe set me back two more years. I don’t think I ever left the dining room table due to the amount of homework that she assigned. During my time in Huntington we lived across from the old Fairfield Stadium where the Marshall University football team played. I saw the team work out in the spring practices of 1970, the same team killed in the plane crash on 14 November of that year. We returned to Long Beach that summer where when I started 5^th grade I was known as “Kentucky Fried.” Despite that I was happy to get back out west. After my Clinical Pastoral Care Education Residency in Dallas I got my first full time hospital chaplain job at Cabell-Huntington Hospital which I held as a full time contractor until I was mobilized for the Bosnia mission in 1996. During this time and while I was deployed Judy got to know my relatives better than me. I went into the Navy in West Virginia and due to this we remain West Virginia residents for Tax and Voting purposes. We came back to get our driver’s licenses renewed and see our dear friend Patty.

The visit this time has been pretty miserable for me as last night the tooth which was recently excavated for the second time as discovered to be cracked beyond repair decided to come back from the dead. I didn’t get to sleep until about 0230 and woke up again at 0415 before getting back to sleep at 0600. The alarm rank at 0700 and after getting Judy up, we talked and I went back to bed where I slept until 1230. It took 2 Ultram, 1 800 mg Motrin and a couple of beers with lunch to get the pain under control. Tonight I will probably do the same and go to bed early. In the morning I will have to call the Dental Department at the hospital to see what they want me to do. We don’t travel back until Wednesday and I don’t know if I can take much more of this. It seems to me that my tooth has taken a page from Dracula and joined the ranks of the undead. This really sucks like a Hoover.

The trip here was long, we had the usual snarl on I-64 from Newport News until past Williamsburg, and thankfully the HRBT was not congested. We picked up more slow traffic between Staunton and Lexington. Now I am bothered by people who drive slower than the posted speed limit in the fast lane. I trained on the Los Angeles Freeways and the German Autobahn. My view is that the speed limit is a suggestion for the less skilled drivers and those who have trained on high speed roads should be exempt from it. Now I am not a total scofflaw. I do not drive unsafely, weave in and out of traffic or fail to signal. Likewise I know about how fast I can go without drawing the attention of the State Police. Since radar detectors are illegal in Virginia one has to become very adept at this cat and mouse game and I am amazed at the number of people who get pulled over because they don’t understand the simple art of nuance. In most states you can safely drive about 10 percent over the speed limit on the Interstate without getting ticketed. This is a little different on the major travel holidays in Virginia where there is about a 5 mph tolerance. I do this routinely and refer to it as “tithing” on the speed limit. Of course there are times that I need to give more than my tithe and go a bit faster. Our GPS “Lilith” has a conscious about such things and would alarm when I did this forcing me to silence her.

There was also cause for rejoicing as the first half of the baseball season came to an end. The Norfolk Tides are tied for fist in the International League South, the San Francisco Giants have surprised everyone by playing great ball with solid pitching and now are in second place in the National League West and currently have the 3^rd best record in the league behind the Evil Dodgers and one percentage point behind the East leading Phillies. To really make things great Giants pitcher Jonathan Sanchez pitched a no-hitter against the San Diego Padres. It was almost a perfect game save for a booted ground ball and error by Giants Third Baseman Juan Uribe with 1 out in the bottom of the 8^thand Center Fielder Aaron Rowland saved the no-hitter with a leaping catch at the wall for the second out in the top of the ninth. Both of these show that even when a pitcher pitches a no-hitter it is a team effort. I had seen the next to last Giant no-hitter in person with my dad and brother back on August 24th 1975 when Ed Halicki shut down the New York Mets at Candlestick. Not a bad way for the Giants to go into the All-Star break.

Anyway it is time to self medicate for the night and try to get some sleep. Pray for me a sinner.

Peace, Steve

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July 12, 2009 · 23:59

Going to War: Wills, Living Wills, Immunizations Gone Bad and Christmas in July

This is part three in my “Going to War” series. Previous parts are noted here:

Part One:Going to War: Reflections on My Journey to Iraq and Back- Part One

Past Two: Going to War: Interlude July 4th 2007

One of the sobering things as you get ready to go to war is issues that deal with your possible dismemberment, disability or yes even your death. In the month or so before going to Iraq Judy had me take out an additional life insurance policy that doubled what the military would provide in the event of my demise. Part of our processing to go to combat was a will and power of attorney update. We had not updated our wills since well before coming to the Hampton Roads area so I took advantage of this time to get it done. The will itself was pretty easy since we have no children and have not been married to anyone else. That was the easy part. The next part was dealing with power of attorney. We did a couple of them, a General for most stuff and a couple of specific POAs for various things. I also had to do a medical power of attorney. The medical power of attorney is something that I routinely deal with at the hospital. I have dealt with them before in other places. At the same time they become somewhat disconcerting when you are getting to go into a combat zone where there is heavy fighting going on and that you know that you will be in places that the enemy likes to attack and by the way, you are as a chaplain unarmed.

When doing a Medical Power of Attorney I am always reminded of the episode of Seinfeld where Kramer sees part of a movie called The Other Side of Darkness which supposedly is about a lady who ends up in a coma. Since Kramer doesn’t want to be in a coma he makes his own Power of Attorney for Jerry to be his representative. Jerry refuses and Kramer gets Elaine to go to a lawyer played by Ben Stein to get his “living will” done. Without going into too much detail the interview with the Ben Stein is funny as hell as in his monotone voice he asks Kramer what he would want to do if….and Kramer turns to Elaine and asks “what should I do?” Of course after Kramer makes this out he sees the rest of the movie only to find out that the lady in the coma comes out of it.

I digress, but anyway sometimes when you fill one of these out you pray that you get it right so no one offs you before your time, but also so you don’t end up like Karen Anne Quinlan or Terri Shaivo. All I could think of when doing this was me being so badly wounded that people were telling Judy that there was only a fifty- fifty chance of me living but only a ten percent chance of that and did she want to pull the plug. While this is going on I could just see me unable to respond trying to say “give me one more at bat skip, just one more chance…please.” This may not seem like the most spiritual thing for a Priest to be saying but I don’t want to be with Jesus or in Purgatory before my time.

Legal matters finished we had matters of health and preventive medicine to accomplish. As always when you deploy the military ensures that you are vaccinated against about everything imaginable including typhoid, anthrax, smallpox, malaria, yellow fever, certain regional diseases and probably some that I have forgotten. Many I had received at different times, including my first Anthrax vaccine which I injection was done into my muscle. This time the corpsmen given the shot did it sub-cutaneous which means just below the skin. Well something happened and the little reaction area became a big one that night. My bicep felt like someone had shoved a baseball in it and the sucker hurt like hell. By the next morning I knew that my reaction was not “normal” being that the first one I had did not do this. I thought back to the Anthrax scare right after September 11^th 2001 and I didn’t want to take any chances regarding something that the media said could be dangerous. Who knows, what if they had messed up and given me a bad batch or even a weaponized form of the vaccine. Hell, just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean that they are not out to get me. If I was going to die for my country I didn’t want it to be from a reaction to a vaccine and not something heroic that would actually matter to someone and maybe even get a ship named after me. So I went back to the immunization section, excusing my way past the queue of sailors waiting to get PPD’s read I went to the desk. I figured that I wasn’t going to wait in line behind people with routine stuff when things looked like they were getting sporty for me. It’s called triage. The Corpsman at the desk was polite and asked what he could do. I told him that “I think I’m having a reaction to the Anthrax vaccine.” He gave me a funny look and asked whoch one in the series this shot was. It was the second and I said. “This didn’t happen the first time.” He told e to show him my arm and then with a look of surprise on his face said: “Obviously sir the first time you had no antibodies to Anthrax so it had nothing to react to….” I was thinking “no shit Sherlock” when the young man went to get his Chief. The Chief came in, looked at my arm and said: “Gee sir it looks like you are having a reaction to the shot.” Wow, he could have floored me with that bit of news. So he took me back to his office and started having me checked to make sure that I didn’t have a fever or a number of other things, like if I was dizzy or was having trouble breathing. No I was neither dizzy nor experiencing breathing difficulties but was simply in pain, a bit scared and a lot pissed. After his battery of questions and the phone calls asked me “do you think that you are safe to drive?” At that point I would have said anything to get the hell out of there and get on with what I needed to do to make sure that I wasn’t going to die. So I said “of course I am.” He asked if I was sure and I reaffirmed this to him in a convincing enough manner for him to send me over to Portsmouth. Now Portsmouth Naval Medical has a small office manned by a couple of nurses whose job it is to report bad vaccine reactions up to the FDA and God only knows who else. These ladies were very pleasant and when they got a look at my arm they were impressed. Once again I heard Yes sir you are having a reaction.” Once and I got another battery of questions and they took a couple of pictures of the baseball sized knot on my left bicep. Another couple of phone calls later I was told that I would be okay. I was told by the ladies that he next shot of the series would have to go into the muscle as this batch had encapsulated itself in my arm instead of going to the rest of my body. I was then told to take some Motrin for the pain and swelling and do a lot of push-ups, pull-ups and massage to help the area dissipate faster. My fears eased and I left the hospital and reported back to the processing site where all of my fellow sailors had already left for the day.

Another tense and sleepless night was spent with Judy and I with the emotional distance still there. We talked about various things but nothing serious as I don’t think that either of us was able to vocalize well what we were feeling. Even Molly seemed differed, I’m sure that she sensed that something was going on as I had continued to pack and re-pack my gear from EOD. Molly does not like it when either of us pack as it usually means that one or both of us is leaving her employee for a time, we being the well treated and loved hired help. So the next morning I repeated my “Groundhog Day” trek back to Norfolk Naval Station fighting the idiots driving to work on the I-264, I-64 and I-564 battle zone where matching wits with the witless I safely picked my way through traffic while drinking my black coffee.

Arriving for our next to last day of processing we checked and re-checked paperwork, received our signed wills, living wills and powers of attorney. That morning I met with Father Pat Finn a mobilized reservist and Episcopal Priest from South Carolina and we had a nice chat where we were joined by Fr Steve Powers retired Navy Chaplain and Rector of St. Brides Episcopal Church in Chesapeake. Following that I was asked to assist with a sailor who was having some personal difficulties getting ready for the deployment. These tasks completed I went back to muster with the others and sat down next to Nelson my ever faithful assistant and body guard extraordinaire. We were then told that we would collect the gear that we were being issued. We gathered outside where we lined up and were given a sea bag in which to put our issue. There were boxes of stuff everywhere and a couple of civilians and sailors stood by to ensure that we got what we were going to get. Uniforms with all of our name tapes rank insignia and qualification pins sewn on as well as more socks, t-shirts and other assorted gear. Our stash was a bit lighter than the others as we already had much of what was being issued and did not need the issue boots having already been issued non-issue boots courtesy of EOD. When this was done and we were released I told Nelson to go home as his family was coming into town from New York. Taking the newly issued gear home I again went to packing and repacking and took Judy out to dinner after which we spent our time alone together pondering the future.

Peace, Steve+

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Tagged as anthrax vaccine, Baseball, ben stein, coma, deployment, elaine benes, eod, hospital corpsmen, immunizations, iraq, jerry seinfeld, karen anne quinlan, kramer, living wills, naval mobilization processing site, navy chaplain, norfolk naval station, portsmouth naval medical center, powers of attorney, seinfeld, september 11th 2001, st brides episcopal church, terri shaivo, weaponized anthrax, wills

July 11, 2009 · 10:27

Pondering the Imponderables of National Security Leaks and Condiments

There are times when try as we might the deepest secrets of national security are made know. Such was the case last week when the wife of Britain’s MI-16 spy service posted photos of the reclusive spymaster in his Speedo on a beach on her Facebook.com page. Needless to say it is not good when every potential and enemy sees their enemy in such a revealing garment which most men who are not young good looking world class swimmers should never be seen in public in. So the dear wife of the British spymaster has blown his cover in a big way. Now Al Qaida will be staking out Brighton Beach or the French Riviera for a chance to schwack him, or at least give him an atomic wedgie as they no longer need simply to see his face but now know what the rest of his body looks like.

Unfortunately there was a security breach in Padre Steve’s household as the Abby Normal Abbess aka “Judy the Snitch” revealed something that the government has been concealing from you for many years. Of course she could not help herself in being a snitch since she was the youngest child in her family, save her Pug Susie. Since the damage to yours and mine national security cannot be undone now that she has posted for the world to see, I am posting the link to her article in hopes that the knowledge of the leak and the official explanation from Padre Steve will defuse this crisis. The link is here:

http://abbeynormalabbess.wordpress.com/2009/07/09/steve-ketchup-and-national-security/

Now the official explanation: Catsup packets and other condiments are indeed to reserve currency in case of a meltdown in the world economy. Since many in the world are fearful of a worst case scenarios like the Great Depression or the hyper-inflation period of the Weimar Republic the world leaders decided that condiment packets that are found in fast food restaurants from Atlanta to Zagreb would do in a pinch. Now this has not been announced anywhere and will not be officially as it could cause a rush on catsup futures which would further destabilize the already fragile world economy as McDonalds, Burger King and other fast food giants would be forced to close stores and lay off employees to find the money to keep the catsup bins stocked.

For those that don’t know the Germans have ascribed a monetary value to catsup and other condiment packets. Back in the old days if you went to a fast food place or an Imbiss (a little snack bar often found in small towns) you would pay 5 pfennings for a packet of catsup. Today with the advent of the Euro the last time I was there they cost 10 Euro Cents, which is about 14-15 US cents at recent exchange rates. Some US fast food franchises now charge for more than the two or three packets that they might normally give you. I found this out when I looked in the bag with my “to go” order and seeing that there were not enough to have extra to add to my stockpile, I asked for more and was told that it would be an additional charge. Knowing what I know I paid for the extra. Many fast food restaurants now have copied what Wendy’s has done for many years and instead of giving you packets of catsup as a “dine-in” customer now supply a pumping station to the catsup tank located below the store, which a couple of times month a tanker truck filled with catsup pulls up to about 0300, or 3 AM and fills up the secret tank. This is one reason McDonalds is replacing its older buildings, it is cheaper to build a new building with the tank than renovate. It also provides them cover of plausible deniability should people ask when the parking lot is ripped up and a tank is being installed. These catsup tankers are unmarked for the reason that the restaurants and the government do not want you to know what is really going on. Most of these are owned by the Heinz conglomerate whose owner; Teresa Heinz Kerry is married to a member of the US Senate and former Presidential candidate, Senator John Kerry. By doing this the government and the restaurants are allowing themselves to stockpile catsup packets for the coming time when they will be needed.

Now you probably wonder how you can verify what I am saying. If you have a friend or family member in the military or employed by a Federal or State law enforcement agency and visit their home or ride in their car, look for their secret stash. After reading what Judy wrote on her blog, Judy’s cousin Diana recalled a visit to her daughter Becki who is a senior Law Enforcement official in a Federal Government agency with an astronomically high security clearance. Becki also has a drawer full of catsup and other condiment packets. The light went on for Diana and she knew that indeed that Judy had unearthed a dark secret.

I’m sure that this post will also give the Bible prophecy addicts something new to ponder in relationship to the scriptures which talk about in the end times a bar of gold will buy a loaf of bread and stuff like that. It is likely now that this is out there that books like The Late Great Planet Earth and parts of The Left Behind series will have to be re-written.

Additionally survivalists and militia movement members who have long suspected a government conspiracy will begin to stockpile catsup packets and begin to hijack restaurant re-supply trucks to make off with cases of catsup and other condiments and even Al Qaida my start targeting Heinz, Hunts and Del Monte catsup plants around the country seeking yet another way to undermine US and world economic security.

So that’s the story. There will be a cover up of course as there always are, when asked government spokesmen and women will claim ignorance or deny the story altogether. But now you know the dirty little secret. As we know from Agents Scully and Mulder in the X-Files the truth is out there.

Peace, Steve+

Note: I gave a bad title to a post a couple of days ago. It is the “Visit to Super Holy International Temple.” It is quite funny and quite profound in its own way and I hope that you look it up if you din’t think that the title sounded too interesting. I was told by a reader that it reminded him of the book “The Shack” which I have never read.

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Filed under Loose thoughts and musings, national security, Political Commentary, purely humorous

Tagged as agent scully, al qaida, bible prophecy, burger king, catsup packets, condiments, del monte catsup, deutsch mark, euro, facebook, federal government, great depression, heinz catsup, hunt's catsup, john kerry, left behind novels, mcdonald's, mi-16, militia movement, national security, speedo, teresa heinz kerry, the late great planet earth, weimar republic, wendy's, world economy, x-files

July 10, 2009 · 16:54

Brothers to the End…the Bond between those Who Serve Together in Unpopular Wars

This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

From the Speech of King Henry V at Agincourt in Shakespeare’s “Henry V” 1599

We have a new Greatest Generation whose accomplishments will likely go unheralded by history and unlike the “Greatest Generation” of World War Two not receive the full honors and accolades due them. The brothers, and for that matter sisters as well who have served in the current War on Terror, Iraq and Afghanistan campaigns have now been serving in a war that is now twice as long as the American involvement in World War Two. Many, like me have been in this since the beginning and many have made multiple deployments to the combat zones. And many of us, if not most of us would go again; I know that I would because part of me is still in Iraq; for me this war is still un-won and un-finished.

With MTT near Syria Advisers out on the Badlands of Al Anbar

With no disrespect to the Greatest Generation of World War Two, all of the current Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, Airmen and Coast Guardsmen are volunteers, as are the members of the Reserves and National Guard. Likewise this generation has for the most part fought the war alone as the vast bulk of the country has lived in peace untouched by any inconvenience to daily life such as gas and food rationing, requirements to work in war industries and the draft as were citizens in World War Two. In the Second World War there was a sharing of the burden which in large part has not occurred in this war. While many have pitched in to help and volunteered to help veterans and their families the vast majority of people in this country are untouched by the war, not that there is anything wrong with that. This is simply a comparison of the situation that those who served in World War Two and the present conflicts faced. So I have to say that our “Greatest Generation” is only a small part of the generation, as the line in Henry V “we few, we happy few who fought together….”

Dynamic Duo Brothers

These Soldiers, Sailors, Marines and Airmen from the United States as well as our Allies who serve alongside of us are my brothers and sisters. I am friends with military personnel from the UK, Canada and Germany who have served in the various combat zones or at sea and met quite a few others from France, the Netherlands and Australia. Of course my Iraqi friends who I served with while with our advisers in Al Anbar province who are not only trying to bring peace and stability back to their country but have to worry about their families being targeted by terrorists.

There are a number of things that unite us in this relatively small brotherhood. However, I think that this brotherhood could also be extended to our brothers who fought in Vietnam, French, Vietnamese, Australian, South Korean and American, the French who served in Algeria and the Americans and others that served in Korea. All of these wars were unpopular, had little support on the home front and often left returning veterans found themselves isolated and their sacrifices either ignored or disrespected. For those Americans who serve in the current wars I can say that at least to this point the public has been much more supportive than they were to our Vietnam brothers, many of who were even disrespected by World War Two vets who had fought in “a real war.” I cannot count the Gulf War in this list as it was hugely successful and the returning vets were hailed as conquering heroes with ticker tape parades.

advisers convoy prep Getting Ready for A Mission

Our shared brotherhood includes our scars, physical, psychological, neurological and spiritual. Those who served on the ground in Iraq and Afghanistan as well as those who served in Vietnam, French Indo-China and Algeria have the common shared experience of fighting people who don’t necessarily like foreigners no matter how noble our intentions and who have a long history of outlasting people that they believe to be invaders or occupiers. We have had to fight wars with no front lines, no major units arrayed against us, but rather asymmetrical threats propagated by creatively devious foes who use low tech easily available technology and a willingness to sacrifice themselves and others to force attempt to kill us. Thus we have cleverly designed and often quite powerful IEDs or Improvised Explosive Devices which can obliterate a HUMMV.

374 Prayer Before a Mission

These threats create a situation where there is no front line and thus where every excursion outside of a FOB (Forward Operating Base) or COP (Coalition Outpost) is automatically a trip into a potential danger zone. Enemies can infiltrate bases posing as local nationals in either military uniform or as workers, rockets and mortars can be lobbed onto even the largest and most secure bases at any time and any vehicle driving by you on the road could be loaded with explosives and just waiting to blow you up while insurgents with automatic weapons and Anti-Tank Rocket Propelled Grenades (RPGs) have taken down helicopters. When you have taken fire on the road, in the air and had rockets whiz by you this becomes a reality that you never forget.

helos at night A Familiar Sight to Me, Flying at Night AP Photo/David Guttenfelder

As a result we do not only have men and women with physical wounds, but wounds that have damaged the psyche or the soul. PTSD is very common either from a direct encounter or the continual wear and tear of being in a danger zone wondering if you were to get hit that day every day of a tour. I have lost count now of people that I know who have mild to severe symptoms of PTSD. Traumatic Brain injury is another condition men and women attacked by IEDs, mortars and rockets experience. Likewise there are the injuries that shatter the soul. These are the images of ruined buildings, burned out vehicles, wounded bodies, injured children, refugees and wars desolation that can leave a person’s faith in God, or ideals that he or she believes in weakened or even destroyed. There are many idealistic and patriotic military personnel who because of what they have seen question God, their National Leadership and even themselves. I cannot get the image of a refugee camp on the Iraqi Syrian border full of Palestinian refugees who have nowhere to go; they had been invited to Iraq under Sadaam and have been sitting on the border trying to get home for years now. The Palestinian authority wants nothing to do with them.

237 Iraqi Kids in War Torn Village on the Euphrates

These men and women are my brothers and sisters. I have seen quite a few of my ICU staff deployed this year with more getting ready to go. These are my friends and I do get concerned for them and pray earnestly for their safe return. I wish that I could go with them because I know them and have already walked with them through the dark valley of the shadow of death in our ICU. We already have a bond that will not be broken.

It is now two years since I was in the process of leaving for Iraq and a year since my PTSD crash. However, I still would do it again in a heartbeat. There is something about doing the job that you were both trained to do and called to do that makes it so. Likewise the bonds of friendship and brotherhood with those who you serve are greater than almost any known in the human experience. Shared danger, suffering and trauma bind soldiers together, even soldiers of different countries and sometimes with enemies. I remember the conversation that I had with an Iraqi Merchant Marine Captain on a ship that we had apprehended for smuggling oil violating the United Nations sanctions. The man was a bit older than me, in his early 60s. He had been educated in Britain and traveled to the US in the 1960s and 1970s. He had the same concerns as any husband and father for his family and had lost his livelihood after Sadaam invaded Kuwait in 1990. He was a gentleman who provided for his crew and went out of his way to cooperate with us. In our last meeting he said to me: “Someday I hope that like the Americans, British and the German soldiers at the end of the Second World War can meet after the war is over, share a meal and a drink in a bar and be friends.” That is my hope as well.

In the final episode of the series Band of Brothers there is a scene where one of the American soldiers, Joseph Liebgott who came from a German Jewish family interprets the words of a German General to his men in the prisoner compound. The words sum up what the Americans had felt about themselves and likewise the bond that all soldiers who serve together in war have in common, if you have seen the episode you know how powerful it is, I ended up crying when I heard it the first time and cannot help but do so now that I have been to the badlands of Al Anbar Province.

“Men, it’s been a long war, it’s been a tough war. You’ve fought bravely, proudly for your country. You’re a special group. You’ve found in one another a bond that exists only in combat, among brothers. You’ve shared foxholes, held each other in dire moments. You’ve seen death and suffered together. I’m proud to have served with each and every one of you. You all deserve long and happy lives in peace.”

A Chance Meeting with our EOD Mobile Uniit 2 Brothers

May God bless all of especially my brothers who served in with me in Iraq or have served or are serving in Afghanistan; as well as my brothers who fought in Vietnam, Indochina and Algeria. We may never get a victory parade, but we have each other.

Peace, Steve+

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Filed under History, iraq,afghanistan, Military, PTSD, vietnam

Tagged as afghanistan, al anbar province, al qaida, algeria, asymmetrical threats, band of brothers, fob, french indochina, gulf war, henry v, hummv, icu, ied, improvised explosive devise, iraq, kuwait, PTSD, rpg, sadaam hussein, the greatest generation, traumatic brain injury, united nations sanctions, veterans, victory parades, vietnam war, war on terror, we happy few we band of brothers, world war two

July 9, 2009 · 22:08

Visiting the Super Holy International Temple: The Ten Pretty Good Suggestions

I was visiting the Super Holy International Temple a few weeks back when I had a revelation…well maybe not exactly a revelation but a somewhat differently inspired inspirational moment of unquestionable inspiration. Or maybe it was just my mind was a raging torrent, flooded with rivulets of thought cascading into a waterfall of creative alternatives through my insomniac PTSD’d brain after one too many beers at Gordon Biersch. Whatever it was, I can assure you that it was something that was important enough to write about. As the beneficiary of a relatively limited amount of wisdom and wanting to ensure that I am not becoming a Harry Tick I decided to check this out with the Deity Herself.

So I did so and indeed the Deity has allowed me to pass this wisdom on to my readers. Most of it deals with me but the application might be applicable to anyone who feels that is applicable to them, otherwise if not applicable readers should not make any application whatsoever to the way that they live their lives.

With that in mind this was what I received in that moment of differently inspired inspirational moment of unquestionable inspiration, what I will call the Ten Pretty Good Suggestions:

1. Dude, you don’t know nothing about a lot of things so don’t go making it up as you go along hoping that I will agree with it just because you found a Bible verse to back it up.

2. Likewise since you don’t know nothing don’t you go piddling about telling people that something was my will. While it may have been, it just may as well not have been. That is for me to know and you keep your mouth shut about, especially if it was one of those really sucky times where something bad happened to someone who obviously did nothing to deserve it…like little kids dying of cancer, women losing babies when they really want them, young people getting killed in war, people who are good people who love God and demonstrate love to others getting terrible diseases or watch family members and friends suffer while really sucky bad people seem to prosper and stuff like that.

3. Bad things happen to good people and bad people alike, just as good things happen to good people and bad people alike. The rain falls on the just and the unjust and this is why the Dodgers have won a number of World Series since coming west and the Giants haven’t.

4. Shit happens to both good and bad people not because the Deity wills it or the Devil is causing it but simply because pain, death and suffering are common to all due to the fall. Hey, that one rhymed so quit calling bad things “acts of God” or God’s will” since you don’t know nothing anyway.

5. The Deity does not take religious instruction from you Padre otherwise the creation would be far more fouled up than it has become, it doesn’t need your help. So please remember to thank me for Global Warming otherwise you’d be freezing you ass off down there.

6. Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that the Devil is out trying to get you. Just because he is a “roaring Lion seeking out someone to devour doesn’t mean that you are worth a whole lot of his time. Since he has made enemies with the Deity and had his head whacked at the Cross, he is probably not screwing with you at this moment. If you believe this Padre you are way too full of yourself and need to do some serious confession. Make no doubt there Padre, the Devil is out there and the proof is in artificial turf on baseball fields and aluminum or composite bats, those are unnatural and definitely the work of the devil.

7. Padre, just because you believe something really hard does not mean that I believe it or will just try to make you happy by allowing it to happen. Just ask Cubs fans last year when they thought they were going to the World Series…it didn’t happen.

8. You may not like it but you game is going to get rained out once in a while so move under the awning sit back and watch the grounds crew do their thing.

9.Don’t you go thinking that just because you did something that you think is special there Padre that I have to do something in return for you, like I love you and all that but dude I don’t owe you squat. My love, giving up my Son to die on the cross for you and the salvation of the world, including your sorry ass isn’t enough?

10. Since you don’t know nothing instead of telling people going through hard times that it is “God’s will” or “from the Devil,” simply admit that you don’t know and walk with them through the valley loving them and caring for them on the way, knowing that “even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil for you are with me” and “I will be with you to the end of the age.” Like duh? I think that those are even in the Bible there Padre. Just like “in this world things will often be really sucky and stuff will go against you but be happy dude because I have overcome the world.”

So anyway after receiving that I had to stop and think, you know like dude, those are pretty profound. So since they are applicable to me don’t assume that they are applicable to you unless however they are applicable in which case you should make application and apply them. Somehow I think that there are a lot of folks who like me are tired of having people try to tell them how to live their lives or how God somehow figures into something bad happening to them when in fact it may not be God, or for that matter even the Devil either. Maybe shit just happens. I know that I got tired of people feeding me full of how they knew what God was doing in my life when bad stuff happened. all the way back in seminary when things went to Super Holy International Temple on me. Why should I inflict the Super Holy International Temple on others?

Peace, Steve+

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Filed under Baseball, Loose thoughts and musings, philosophy, PTSD, Religion

Tagged as 23rd psalm, acts of god, artificial turf, attacks of satan, baseball fields, chicago cubs, christian faith, composite bats, dodgers, global warming, god, God's will, gordon biersch, insomina, metal bats, PTSD, san fransisco giants, satan, the devil, the fall of man, why bad things happen to good people

Author Archives: padresteve

About padresteve

Crossing the Mendoza Line: It’s not All about the Lifetime Batting Average

Going to War: A Bus Ride to the Carolina Countryside

Killing off the Undead Tooth of Terror

My Home World Visit: Some things Change and some don’t….and the Terror of the Undead Tooth

Going to War: Last Night together and a Kiss Goodbye

A Trip to the Home World, Tithing on the Speed Limit, a Tooth Joins the Ranks of the Undead and a Giant No Hitter

Going to War: Wills, Living Wills, Immunizations Gone Bad and Christmas in July

Pondering the Imponderables of National Security Leaks and Condiments

Brothers to the End…the Bond between those Who Serve Together in Unpopular Wars

Visiting the Super Holy International Temple: The Ten Pretty Good Suggestions

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