The story line is 'Jack did this and saved the day!'....

But we don't really build many Jack models in our systems. Too afraid of them. Fairy tales all had lots of Jack, Giant Killer, and often a knave or a fool for some lovely maiden somewhere. But he wouldn't have made it through our current education establishment, not without being drugged into useless. Ever wonder at modern authors that use Jack (Reacher and Ryan) to identify their main character - almost seems lazy.

The recent saving of the three women, once innocent girls in Ohio - always brings up the question, why didn't they escape earlier? Forgetting years of conditioning to go along to get along, Oprah's sage advice to cooperate with the criminal and survive! It is just common sense. If the evil one has any to use... evil wouldn't be so bad, would he? The Spartan Boys Academy was spartan - one couldn't have any good stuff unless one stole it, won it or was willing to fight for it - duh, and that nation state produced little in art and literature, but they sure could fight and die well.

It is cultural, wanting the right answer, the proper response to keep the wheels turning in production of good stuff. Most government thrives on acceptance of the status of its people working harmoniously. Why they work harmoniously is very important - slavery works, serfdom works, communism works, fascism works, republics with participatory responsibility works. Families work, couples work, friends work.... lots of ways to make things work.  Since change is certain, flexibility would be an asset - and one needs more Jacks for more flexibility. But we have difficulty producing them, accepting them, and encouraging them and their testing their powers.

Just thought you should know, that Jesus Christ's gentile name was Jack. Just a thought.




I am sure that you can't tell, but my day hasn't been as planned. I did sleep in,  and all the normal start.  Then I decided not to take my M1 to the range to shoot today, ammunition being okay but not perfect.  So why did perfect start slowing me down - perfect has never been a good reason for failure to perform to standards. I ignored it and loaded up, farewelled my wife and went to the range and took the little video above, every position filled, lots of friends, families and firearms and no space for Earl.  There just aren't enough public nor semi-public ranges for all the folks that want to shoot. I should have bought a farm or a large wasteland.

Okay, off to get a short haircut, I get the only male barber and he doesn't cut it short enough but does still ask to attack my eyebrows. The day isn't going badly, I keep my unkempt eyebrows, a hidden trait of Jacks everywhere. I pick up a Mother's Day card, for my wife, my mother being missed here on earth - but I am sure Heaven has been interesting since she showed up. I look and find a pair of work pants in brown that I will spend money on, twenty-five dollars and I think I paid too much but then I might have to adjust my perception of the value of a dollar today.

I go to the YMCA, to get some time on the machines in, make my body hard and burn all that flabby fat, keeping an eye out for the beautiful.  But it is Saturday, and most folks are out and about enjoying the Summer time promise, without heat. If I clean up well, early enough I can head back to the range, should be empty by 2:30... or almost.  It wasn't, still full up. They did pause for an hour and a half for something that was happening somewhere else on post, a welcome back or a memorial for some deserving heroes. It is still bringing happiness to my heart to see so many happy safe shooters, where is the main stream media? Oh, I forgot, they don't cover good stuff only awful stuff - and then repeat it over and over.

Well, back to home base, find my wife has brought more plants and flowers, will make me lunch and tell me what she has done. Love life is truly a life of love... can go shoot another day.

About nurturing 'Jacks' everywhere - I think a man must tell tales of adventure, encourage risk, and promote thinking outside the box - and always tell them to escape! Down the rabbit hole if needed, get out and do - meet folks and lend a helping hand. Read! Visit your library and make sure you ask the Reference Librarian for the tales of Jack in your reading level.

You don't know Jack.

Don't you know you could do it better than all those others out there?

I am sure that everyone shouting their opinion has that idea, Occupy Wall Street, the Halls of Congress, the West Wing of the White House, everyone thinks they can do it better. Some of them can do it better - but I only control me and that seems to be the problem. That and so many want to help me be controlled.

I belong to the NRA, but they don't control me, my money, nor make my shot any better. I find most of their activities ponderous and constricting. I like the magazines and museum and the annual convention (although I have never attended one yet). I supported Ron Paul ten times more than I did Bob Kerrey, when the Country Club Republicans aced him and his supporters out, we may have voted but we weren't engaged (who would be engaged with criminal activities?).

So I am a fat man, and not healthy, and wanting to return to fewer problems. Some things I can fix. I don't want to go to surgery, so I will have to modify eating and exercise behaviors. Many have reported that the New Jersey (gangster) Governor has resorted to that for his health or for his 2016 election run for President. I think he did it so his children are no longer ashamed of him, or so he is no longer ashamed of himself. I quit drinking long ago because I thought I wasn't going to do well as a drunken fool.

So the weight isn't coming off fast enough, the muscle is firming up, the breathing is okay but I haven't been pushing it and need to.... fears get in the way. Why aren't you going to the doctor, I know he doesn't know anything about ME, and thinks he knows more about making me healthy than I do.  And yes, the blood pressure and such are at levels they should be - so he must know something.

Still I do need to make changes, more shooting, more teaching, less watching news programs which are all bad for humanity - since they are concentrating on the failures and doing it for fear and money. The only way to control that, is to not watch it, my television time is shortening. Well, tomorrow will be the first of many busy days ahead. Thank you for all your attention and not helping me control myself. I like that kind of meal, but don't recommend it often - eating crow.

It was long ago, what difference does it make?

I am not watching the testimony before Congress.  The Congress is part of the problem, nice that they are asking, but they really don't care. Honest, they don't care. Four dead in Lybia, over fifty thousand Americans dead in Vietnam, same attitude - they aren't on the ground, problem with current command and control - they don't have to be on the ground, they have drones (they have always thought of service people as drones).

I will know how serious the President and the Congress are about winning a war, when they get armed and move out to the battle site.

Lots of serious conquerors did, a real man will fight and die for what he believes in - and seems many politicians, bankers, and public figures want drones to do the dirty work. Wonder where the heroes went - one labels everyone that moved, even in fear, a hero.

I want to think about a future... mine will work.

Bill O'Reilly hates me and my guns, says there are some illegal guns somewhere and the Federal government should crack down on them and the folks using them. Sigh, Bill doesn't really know anything about guns - ask him a simple 'you might be a gun nut' quiz. He will fail. At least John Stossel called him arrogant to his face and on his own show. John may not be back as guest.

Then there are the fine folks from Ohio, that lost control of three (or many more) women/girls and no one understands why that could happen -- because we are looking at our navels or the entertainment media hubs in everyone's lives. No one knows anything about their neighbors, or nothing criminal anyway. Aren't you lucky that most people aren't criminals. They aren't waiting for the jury to find them guilty of murder, although the woman confessed to the crime, she then doesn't want to accept a death penalty. She wants to become a ward of the state, free food, bed, hospital care.And if she can get it she will ask for a Baltimore Jail, so she can have babies, drugs and guns.

There is a Justice Report out, that is supposed to disprove all the numbers the anti-gun crowd uses to promote fear in the minds of the ignorant. Do you think they, the ignorant, will mind being called ignorant? I wouldn't want to be offensive, just precise like when I take my shots, precise and on target.

So entertainment should come without commercial interruption, education should be based on a search for truth and facts, and communication skills are important for social interaction. I like to remember that my little piece of war in Vietnam and Iraq was never what I see on television, sometimes it was like what I read from other participants or observers on site, never from bar room brags and drunken tales. I just mention that, since most of what Americans and the world knows about American Violence comes from dime novels, motion pictures, television broadcast and cable news 24 hours a day.

One murder shown in file footage -- how many times? -- is how many deaths? One, but your mind added another one for every time it saw the report. Most Americans do not know any murderers, do they? How many children weren't shot in school today, how many weren't shot on the date of the attack at Sandy Hook? Every death is saddening, but all the living are to be celebrated.

At the time of the Boston bombings, there were all the best and brightest and highest paid law enforcement protection available for the size of the threat, and they couldn't stop the bombings. It took a citizen reporting things out of order to lead the police to find a missing bomber. More layers of government to be respoonsible for one's safety don't seem to work -- you could be an ambassador and ignored by your bosses having a good time far away. Then you get killed because they never believed you were worth savings, not when there was an election to win and more partying to do...

So take my advice, go to the YMCA, have a real life, turn off the television and electronic mind numbing and get a life.  Real people aren't bad at all, they may make mistakes, commit sins, and often have problems they can't handle. They need your calm support, your participation in worthy efforts, your ideas (which might only be different not foolish). Not only do they need you, but you need them, too. We aren't grumpy grizzly bears, solitary lives aren't human.  

Impressions... all I have are just impressions

So a normal Friday, until about seventeen hundred, when I began to finalize the packing for the quick motorcycle trip across Washington to Moscow, Idaho and the First Presbyterian Church on S Van Buren Street. Camera, knives, flashlight, check tire pressure (find gage!) inflate a bit. check oil (spot on!), liners for gloves, drop the rain suit, keep the leather chaps with liners, take kindle for reading if bored. Listen lightly to wife's good advice for my safe return and to take her regards and good wishes for the happy couple. She and I are long time believers in marriage being better with support of family and friends - but also of it needing no one, nor institution, coming between the couple. Later review of my wife's attempt to memorialize me in video - it is time to think seriously about the super short haircuts of stars going bald.... but then I never see the back of my head, do I? And then on the road, hoping traffic isn't too bad getting to I-90.

Google mapping says it is 318 miles - about 5 hours 24 mins (what do they know about my Trusty Triumph and old bones on the bounce?).  I figure a stop about every fifty miles to stretch legs, stop the motion, the bike will go a hundred and fifty miles on a tank without hitting the reserve - unless for some strange reason I am doing 85 mph or more (Dakotas do that to you). I normally travel at seventy to seventy-five. When I am tired I will stop and nap about forty minutes, 40 winks? No one wants to mess with a motorcyclist - no telling what he is carrying concealed - he rides a bike and wears leather (danger, danger!). Probably stinks, too.

So I ride out of the evening commuter traffic around Auburn, and then into the mountains and passes and some speed. Rolling, rolling, rolling... first stop North Bend where the little birds pick dead bugs from the grills of the automobiles. Coffee and a wrap. Ride out and the lowering Sun is behind me, reflecting brightly into my eyes from my mirrors, sigh. Then it gets dark enough to remove sunglasses - the mountains and the tall trees provide cover the elevations starts cooling everything. As the stars come out the chill comes calling, I put on the chaps and glove liners and begin to wish I have one scarf or handkerchief to close the opening to wind whipping into my jacket. Find exit 137 and Highway 26 to Pullman. Through the night, some rest stops have no one manning the coffee machines, sigh. I will complain on my way back. Get some sleep anyway I can.

Dusty has a really odd type of gasoline in the night system for credit cards and receipts, interesting, must be awake enough to read and follow the instructions - wouldn't work for drunks. On to and thru to Pullman, turn properly towards Moscow and ride into Idaho along the way. I could take off my helmet here - but it is still cold, and I have seen the scratches and scrapes on my helmet that I never wanted on my head. I, being a man and still in the dark - look at that beautiful rising crest moon over Moscow!- ride around looking for the church, the 1912 building and the streets they are upon... West 3rd street is the same as East Third Street - they are east or west depending on which way you are facing not which side of Main Street you are upon. Late night early morning reasoning malfunction - too tired to notice. I find a place to ask for directions, and three very kind helpful folks get me oriented right (I just hadn't gone far enough beyond Washington and Adams streets - and if I got to Polk it would be too far, yes, he was a President, too). Also while riding into the rising Sun I cannot see the signs with the names on them. Did I mention I am cold and tired? Go to the laundromat for warmth! Open 24 hours.

I found it! there are people prepping for photos. The bride is smiling, Patrick and Heather are happy to see me - although Patrick shakes with his left hand since he doesn't want me to re-break his right arm (I am not that strong, but one could wish).  I will say no more about the wedding, the ladies and lasses were all beautiful, the families abounded, the smiles were all real, the laughter gentle and loving. Coffee and cinnamon roll reception calls! Why? because I don't get a real chance to sleep until I get back to homebase... I become tight buddies with five boys which live like cousins, nicely dressed, very active, happy and polite - I think they are perfect companions in my old age. In discussions about cinnamon rolls I am aware of a little sister, who will be a stunner when she gets older, that informs me her brother is only seven, not seventeen nor seventy. The brother tells me that he has met his mother's cinnamon roll limit. I can carry on since I am hungry.

I am properly introduced to Tim, brother of the groom, seventeen and worth noting - although my brain is on cruise and I make some silly remarks about shooting better. Another day perhaps? I am introduced to many people, polite but wishing I had more time to talk to each they all have stories. Still, this day is about the couple and everyone's well wishes. With friends and families that have come to celebrate and support the only wrinkles in the wonder will come from the couple - as I once had a young paratrooper tell me. He never really knew his wife until he married her. They had grown up on the same street, gone to the same schools and dated for years. I being married a good many years know that I KNOW NOTHING about my wife - just that I love her, and that works for me. I toast from afar, and watch the cutting and sharing of the wedding cake and it has become time to ride back into the West. While the Sun shines, I had enough cold for now. I wave good bye to my fine young friends from the back of my Trusty Triumph. Imagine, polite, active, and smart young people - and the young ladies were beautiful, the young families were wonderful and the older firmer folks were foundation material most solid - a piece of America that didn't make the news today - although they are what will last and grow.

I want to move faster than the Sun, but won't, it is after eleven hundred, and Washington is a few miles down the road, then another three hundred home. Wind will whip me, and try to whirl me into a dance with it. My battery is worn down, I stop in Dusty again get something to drink and eat and tell the counter lady I will go sleep beside my cycle, she promises to wake me if I am still there when she closes up. I won't be, in about forty-five minutes I wake and hit the road again.

In the night I had smelled fertilizer and in the daylight I watch the large irrigators watering the crops, many kinds of crops, lots of solid animals, this is rich country. And mostly flatter and the wind whacks me silly, have to push against it - and going about seventy something I create my own also. No matter what that boy said about me not being a fat man - I am not aerodynamic.

You know how your mind is going?

Time to go, I found my Leatherman and the air pressure gage...

Yes, it is a beautiful day, I have been busy. But although I rode my Trusty Triumph to the YMCA, it was not enough. That much more and beyond await my attention. So, should I nap at Iron John rest stop? Where will I eat, what will I do, I have directions, and time estimate and a goal. Life is good, if one goes out and lives it in real time.

Ya'll take care, and don't mess the world up while I am finding my way among the heathen, Once I am past Cougar Country I will be fine.