Last trip of the year

     My last trip of the year.  Finally!  Have I been able to keep up the PMA?  Have I been successful in any of my goals?  The answer is NO.  I did end up with a pretty bad attitude when I was on a trip for two months.  I also had a pretty bad attitude when I returned and realized my job had changed to something I was not very willing to deal with.  I also didn't keep up with this.  But that's because I'm just plain lazy.
     So, here we are at the end.  I started out in Mojave and LA in January(16 days).  In February it was Connecticut(13 days).  March was spent at home.  In April it was Korea, Malaysia and Bangkok(14 days).  In May was Bangkok(5 days).  June was Bangkok, Malaysia, Hong Kong, and Xiamen(30 days).  In July it was Malaysia and Jeddah, Saudi Arabia(23 days).  From the very last of July until the 3rd of December...it was home sweet home.  That's only 101 days away from home so far this year.  I'll tack on another 15 or so here in Ethiopia.  There's no reason why I shouldn't have kept a PMA...I had 60+ more days at home than I usually get. 
     What have I learned this year?  Probably not all that I should have.  I did learn that even when I was home...I wasn't.  I guess I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop and get sent to who knows where on very short notice.  So, even though I complained non-stop about not being at home, I wasn't very well connected to what was going on when I was home.  Shame on me.
     So, we close on this year and get ready for the new.  I know I have places to go in January.  I'm not too sure about the rest of the year.  I do hope to get to stay home as much as possible.  I will also do better with keeping connected with the family when at home and abroad.  As far as keeping this up...well, I'm still pretty lazy.  

Throwing Stones

The familiar phrase of casting the first stone echoes in the hollows of my memory.  It's really quite a powerful statement.  In fact, when the words were spoken, it stopped the show.  When I was a child, the words stopped me in my tracks when considering the matter.  The words still give me pause, but don't seem to hold me in check for very long.  These days, I give it a fleeting thought and then let the stones fly.

Why is this so?  Are the words any less profound today then when spoken so long ago?  The words from an old Hymn sum it up best..."prone to wonder, Lord I feel it".  By my actions, I can see how far I have wondered from the course I walked as a child.  The question is...where have I gone?

Injuries sustained by children

Nate, the 4yr old, injured himself today at Church.  He got his hand caught in the stall door in the bathroom and received quite a pinch.  When we picked him up after the service, he was quick to point out the band-aid on his had.  While he was visibly upset about it, there was another kid saying how it wasn't all that bad.  Even the teacher seemed to think that it wasn't too big of a deal, especially since he immediately stopped crying about it once the band-aid was applied. 
When we go home, I told Nate that I would like to see it...just to see if he really needed a band-aid.  He refused and told me that the band-aid wasn't done eating all the blood.  As much as he tried to baby his hand, the band-aid lost its stick and it was time to change it.  When I removed the band-aid, I saw that the pinch took away quite a bit of skin and left an inch long gash at the base of his index finger on the back side of his hand. 
I was a little alarmed by this.  Given the comments of the other kids and the teacher, I was lead to believe that maybe Nate was exaggerating a little.  Now, Nate has received minor injuries and he is a bit of a drama king.  I guess the lesson for me is to always listen to the boy, no matter how many times he may have cried wolf.  He's still 4 (turning 5 in March).  The world is still a pretty big and cruel place to him and that gash on his hand is probably one of the worst injuries he has sustained. 
There is so much to learn about the kids and myself.  I suppose 15 years as a parent has brought some kind of wisdom and experience.  I feel sorry for Luke for not getting the same kid of nurturing and benefit when he would hurt himself when he was younger. 

Death of a pet

     My daughter's hamster died yesterday.  She had it for a little more than a week, but she was very attached to it.  When she saw that it was dead, she cried about it with a force that I found odd...she only had it for a week after all.  I did try to comfort her, but was not too effective as I did not have the same attachment to the rodent that she had.  She carried on more than when Grandma Wright passed away.
     Gracie wanted a hamster as bad as any 10-11 year old could want something.  Her mom made the agreement that she could get one if she made the Battle of the Books team.  Gracie tried and worked very hard to make the team.  She was successful and my wife let her buy a hamster.  So, I can kind of understand the emotional attachment to this creature. 
     This incident challenged my perspective.  It made me reflect on pets that I had lost over the years.  I can recall only one where I was really upset about, but it was not due to my emotional attachment to the animal.  It was my wife's cat...I hated that cat, but I knew she loved it.  It died when she was away from home.  The guilt I felt about it was overwhelming.  But as far as being so sad to the point of uncontrollable grief...I just don't have it in me.
    Why should the death of a pet be so much less than the death of a loved one?  Maybe because it's an animal and not a loved one.  I have known a lot of people who have lost pets and were beside themselves with grief.  I feel bad for the person and the loss of their pet, I suppose, but I can never understand the amount of grief that is placed on the loss itself. 
     Maybe I'm just an insensitive guy.  Maybe I have never had a pet that I have had an emotional attachment too.  My view of pets are not from the emotional investment standpoint.  To me, pets are a financial loss.  The sooner they die off, the less I have to pay to support it.  Is that wrong?  
     With that attitude, I will be taking Gracie to get another hamster.  I'm not sure how I feel about it.  The new hamster will die...eventually.  Is she prepared for this?  Is this an exercise in grief management for her?  What lessons is she taking away from this, if any at all?  Only time will tell.

Time

     When I was stationed in England, I wrote a lot of really bad poetry.  Most of it concerned time and how it was the enemy.  Well...it is our enemy, but that's another bad poem waiting to happen.  I still feel at odds with time, but I'm not as depressed about it.
     In England, I was far away from everyone I knew and all I had ever known.  It was a costly venture just to spend a little bit of time on the phone with the ones I loved.  The hours I spent dwelling on time, and how I hated it so, eroded a piece of my soul.  Enter the bad poetry...oh the angst I could draw from bitterness towards time. 
     Looking back, I can see how silly it all was.  I could have made amends with time and enjoyed the time I had.  Not that I have regrets, but I sure could have enjoyed my stay there a lot more than I did.  What did I really have to be bitter about?  I cannot recall.  I was well housed, well warmed and well fed.  Life was actually simple and sweet.
     During this current chapter of my life, I have a lot to be bitter about concerning time and the lack of it I am able to spend with my family.  I could be bitter about all the games and programs I have missed out on being on the road.  But I'm not.  Have I given in to time?  Has time won the battle?  Have I surrendered to time? 
     I don't think that time has won.  I do think technology has eased my hatred of it.  With technology, I don't have to wait so long to talk to the ones I love.  With technology, I can listen and watch from afar.  Technology has certainly been a friend to me...even in countries where technology was less than perfect. 
     So, I still despise time.  I don't think I'll ever make amends there.  I won't make amends there until I walk through the shadow of the valley and meet my maker.  I will be happy when time ceases to exist.  How crazy is that?

Insomnia

It happens without fail when I travel.  It happens at home too, but it sucks more when I travel.  0100 and 0630 wake up.  I have been having frequent bouts of insomnia for as long as I can remember.  The worst period of time was when I was in the Air Force.  I would go several days without much more than a 30 minute nap.  I went to the Doctor at one point.  I was offered meds to take care of it, but told I would always be on them....for the rest of my life.  I was in my very early 20's then.  I didn't want to be strapped to a drug for the rest of my life at that point.  Now that I'm 40, I still can't see being strapped to a drug for the rest of my life.
I have used insomnia to my advantage.  When I travel home from overseas, it typically take 30+ hours.  When I was a traveling tech with the airplane, I would often go 50+ hours with little more than a 30 min nap.  Perhaps it's not insomnia, but just the way I'm made.   I do have more problems sleeping during full moon, which I cannot explain. 
When I get this way, I am usually thinking about a project.  I have no real project going on right now, so I start back up on a fascination of mine.  Motionless power generation using magnets.  I recently saw a Nova episode about fractals and wonder if fractals can make that a possibility.  So I scheme ideas in my head and troubleshoot the different problems that may occur.  I have twelve different design ideas rolling around the noggin just waiting for a rainy day.  Maybe I will attempt to build one someday.
Alright....this did help me get tired.  I will try to go to sleep with visions of motionless power generators buzzing through my brain.

Bitterness toward Airplanes?

     I wouldn't have thought it, but I have some bad feelings against some airplanes.  While here in Mojave at the aircraft bone yard, I got to see some airplanes that I used to work on.  These planes are not in service anymore and mostly stripped of all that was ever good. 
     As I looked at the planes, I instantly got kind of "mad" at the airplanes and took great delight in their poor state.  I was flooded with all of the memories of the times when they broke down, every hour they kept me away from home, every phone call made discussing the maintenance...you name it.  We even gave the airplanes unflattering names.  7whore6 and 7whore0.  I hated those planes.
     After a while, though, I had to remember the safe passage that the two planes brought me.  I flew a lot of places on those planes and quite obviously still here.  I always looked forward to flying on them as well.  740 was always the best A/C to be on to Shanghai.  746 was always a nice ride to Korea and all over the lower 48. 
     Weighing the love/hate...hate still wins.  As much as I hate the airplanes, I still wanted a piece of one of them.  So, I climbed the E&E bay ladder and searched for my trophy of the one I hate the most...746.  I was happy to find the "Exit"sign was still there.  I always thought the Exit sign would taunt me after a very long AOG.  The only way to Exit the A/C for me many times was to make sure it was fixed and airworthy to fly.  I don't know what I'll do with the Exit sign, but I know the wife won't like it.