Has it really been ten years? Ten years? As the dawn comes up on this day, I reflect on my feelings; the pain, the anger, the frustration, all of it.  I remember to this day what I was doing, I remember all the phone calls I made to different people.  I remember the first call I made; I remember the exact first words that I spoke: “Brent, the mother fuckers hit us.  The mother fucking ragheads hit us.”

I was angry.  I was ready for blood.  Throughout the years those feelings have begun to subside somewhat; but every time I see pictures of the towers falling, all those emotions come back.  I do not think I will forget the images that burned into my mind that day.  When I reflect upon that day, seeing those images on the television and my nephew playing on the living room floor.  I have to wonder what is he going to remember about that day.  What is he learning about this day in school?  Are they even talking about it?  And if they are, how are they spinning it?  

I would have thought that it would be easy to put what I am thinking down, but I am finding it difficult.  There is so much that I am feeling and thinking.  I wonder how many other people are feeling the same way?  Part of me feels that it is a good thing that I am unable to put to writing what I am feeling.  Maybe I am still pained by the events.  Yet, the scholar in me is yelling from the inside to look at the whole thing objectively.  However, my objective view that I have has been skewed by my experiences and my views.  

Either way, we must not forget. On this day ten years ago, our country was attacked.  It was a cowardly attack.  It was an attack on our beliefs, our way of life, our faith.  We must never forget that.  To call it anything else is being dishonest.  Remember the lives lost, remember the sacrifice, remember the blood that was shed in the aftermath.  We must continue to fight for God and country.

Memorial Day is approaching.  Years ago, it was just another holiday, a day off from school and work.  In more recent years it has taken on more significance.  After having to bury a few friends this day has taken on more meaning.  My heart gets heavy when I remember them.

As you go to your barbecues and gatherings of family and friends, remember those who went and gave the ultimate sacrifice for freedom and love of country.

It has been much too long since I made an update here.  So much has happened since my last entry.  I have been to China and Korea for vacation.  I have started working again.  And, finally I have completed another orbit of the sun.

Once again, it has cone that time of the year that I become morbidly introspective and contemplative of my life.  I am now one score and a decade old.  As I reflect back, I wonder about all that has transpired.  The one conclusion that I have is that God has been gracious with me.  He has blessed me with talents and experiences that serve a purpose.  I continuously pray and ask God to reveal His purpose for my life.  More to come later.

When I picked up my dry cleaning today, I was once again annoyed at the fact that the hangers were backwards. I’ve always learned to hang my clothes from the hanger with the hook opening to the left, so that when hung from the rod the from will face to the left. However, when I complained to the lady, she simply said that I was wrong. My mom even told me that I was wrong. Apparently they both think that the hook opening goes to the right.

I never really noticed how my mom used to hang my clothes when I was younger. It wasn’t until after the Army that I began hanging my clothes the way I do. Even the dry cleaners I used would hang the clothes in the fashion that I do. Now, I have to ask. What is the right way to hang clothes from a hanger? There doesn’t seem to be an answer online. So is the entire US Army and my drill instructor wrong? Or, is my mom and my current dry cleaners wrong?

Tell me, how do you like your clothes hung from a hanger, with the hook open to the left so that the front faces to the left, or with the hook open to the right so that the front faces the right?

It is said, that time heals all wounds.  Another year has passed, and the pain and sickness I felt on this morning eight years ago still remain.  I remember watching on the television the sight of the flames and black smoke billowing out of the towers.  I felt a deep sickness in the pit of my stomach, because I knew for certain that terrorists had struck even before official confirmation came in.  Even as I write this post I cannot help, but feel ill.  I remember watching people at the top floors jumping out rather than face the flames that were approaching them.  I remember watching the towers come down.  I shudder at the nightmares I would have, had I seen all this in person rather than throught the cold, objective lense of a camera.  

I started to write this post several weeks ago, but life got in the way. Also, I have been avoiding writing this. A part of me is still in denial, and another part of me has moved on.

Sadly, after almost 12 years of faithful service it has come time to decommission my car. It was a frustrating decision, but in the end it was best.

In the end, it was if she knew her end was near. She refused to give up and go quietly. I regret that her end came ingloriously on the back of a flatbed being carried off to the used car lot. No blaze of fiery glory; just a quiet ride to the end. My heart was heavy when I handed over my keys and signed the final paperwork to officially turn her over. I was hoping to be able to sell the car later, but circumstances required that I expedite the decommissioning. I would have loved to have had a last trip in her, but as the case with many things we don’t always get what we want.

She was a good car, she always brought me home. She took me cross country more than once. We went through the hills of California, the deserts of Arizona, the plains of Texas, the mountains of the Sierra Nevada, and the swamps of the South. Through the snow, through the rain, through the desert heat, the sunniest of days, and the darkest of nights, she remained steady. She saw me through happy times and sad times. Many times I sat in her embrace and wept tears of heartbreak; many more times I wept tears of triumph. She became a place of refuge when life became hard. There are many memories some good, some bad, but mostly good. 

The hum of her engine and the feel of her clutch comforted me. Every time I sat in her and held her wheel and shifter, it felt as though I became one with her. I knew her limits and how far I could push them, and push them I did. I knew by feel where every control was located. I could tell how fast she was going just by the hum of the engine and the vibration of the frame. 

Sadly The Black Dragon is no more. She has been decommissioned.

*cue: End credits to Star Trek III*

http://highschool.rivals.com/content.asp?CID=903780

Kids want to to apologize for winning? 

We should take a lesson form the Chinese when it comes to dealing with corporate corruption.

http://uk.reuters.com/article/burningIssues/idUKTRE50L0ZG20090122?pageNumber=3&virtualBrandChannel=0

How you may ask?  And which law did I break?  I believe I broke Newton’s Third Law of Motion. As for the how, read on.

I was playing football today.  (The game itself was interesting with the amount of lucky lateral passes that were made.)  At one point I read a pass and moved to intercept the receiver.  The receiver catches the ball and turns to run, but I’m there to stop him.  Now here’s where the physics come into play.

Let’s compare the two objects:  Designate me as S1 and the receiver as S2.  S1 is 178 lbs and 5’8″, S2 is 160lbs and 5’6″.  Let’s convert that to SI.  S1 would be 80.74kg and 172cm, S2 would be 72.57kg and 167.64cm.  In theory S1 is a larger mass than S2.   S1 is at full speed and slowing down and S2 is beginning to accelerate.  S1 has an acceleration of 3.35 m/s (based on an eight minute mile), let’s say S2 has an acceleration of 3 m/s (remember S2 did not have the opportunity to reach full velocity).  According to the equation F=ma, S1 has a force of 270.48N and S2 a force of 217.71N.  That is a difference of 52.77N. 

Therefore we have S1(270.48N)–><–S2(217.71N).  Now being a lager mass and having more Force you would think the reaction from the collision would have resulted in S2 being propelled backward.  However, that was not the case.  I was the one propelled backward flat on my back with my glasses going flying.  S2 went backwards only because he was dazed from hitting his head on my chest.

So, my conclusion, the Laws of Physics can be broken.