Everyone isn’t for war and the taking of life from aother May 27, 2007

WEST POINT, N.Y. — Vice President Dick Cheney today urged the 978 new graduates of the U.S. Military Academy to provide leadership to troops fighting terrorists in Iraq and Afghanistan…. blah blah yakitty yak yak yak.  If you’d like the read the full article – http://chron.com/disp/story.mpl/front/4838643.html?plckCurrentPage=1

Basically, below is the meat of a conversation I had with a person in the “comment” section of Saturday’s online Houston Chronicle. Let me know your thoughts and if I am wrong, please dictate with your conciance.

Walt wrote:

Or was Cheney there buttering them up for what’s yet to most assuredly destroy their lives. And or get them killed.

texrb wrote:

Last I heard, Walt, there is no draft that forces people into the military academy and since the war has been going on for 4+ years, I assume all of these graduates knew what they were committing to. You liberal pukes do nothing but spew hatred anymore. You offer nothing in the way of useful dialogue.

Walt wrote:

WOW texrb, who’s gaking up the hate here?
War is hell. This war will continue unnecessarily, for years to come if we allow it. The good ol’ boy republican party always stimulates the
US economy in the profiteering of war. We can’t change that which doesn’t want to be changed. It tears my heart out to know many families of dead
US servicemen. Why not turn
Iraq into glass… as in glass from a lot of sand and extreme heat. As originally proclaimed we’d finance this abortion, by war monger #43, how much oil have we, the US, seen in exchange for the billions & billions of ‘charges incurred’ financing this un-winnable war? How much are you paying for fuel? You and your fat cat Bush party are the world’s biggest idiots. I’m embarrassed for you. No wonder the whole world hates the
US.And btw, DICK Cheney is my ex boss. He is as crooked as they come. Since you are obviously immune to death, try putting a face on this debacle of a war. It’s all just so unbelievably ridiculous.oh yes, uhhhh, has anyone seen Binladen? I thought not.Now piss off, you bore me

_____________________________________

texrb wrote:Walt, once again you are spewing socialist hatred without an ounce of factual dialogue. It’s the same tactic the Bolsheviks used in 1917. Whoever disagrees with the socialist agenda, trash them with hate speach. I’m not a republican, yet you say “Your fat cat party”. I am an independent patriot who is sick of the factless diatribes of the likes of you.

Walt wrote:

Get a grip man. “Socialist?” Are we still playing from the same sheet of music here
TEX? Allow reality to be a friend of yours. I get the feeling you are a crotchety stodgy old man. Stuck in old man political oblivion of auld lang syne. Head buried comfortably deep in the sand. Probably polishing your six-shooter rocking on the rear porch where ya stay o’re yonder way.I have no desire or feel the need to quote my sources here big TEX. If you have any sense you might have researched your incessant encumbrance of what is the truth. It’s very simple…we have no business in that entire part of the world.Why can’t our superpower conservative good Christian country finish what war they’ve started? Why hasn’t it all ended by now? With all due respect (literally) let’s finish that which was started by #41. Can you believe I used the words “Christian, conservative & war” all in the same sentence. I can.Daily, as I enter our 42 story Ivory Tower for work, I pass the yellow ribbon adorned placard placed at the building’s entrance – for the past FIVE years (remember, the then classified war was well under way before one cartridge was discharged), announcing “our hearts and prayers go out to all of Halliburton and KBR’s employees and servicemen whom are missing, or have died fighting for our country in their respective line of duty.” I’m reminded at the beginning of every robotic day of my life that war equals unnecessary death. Not only death to our soldiers, but all other soldiers fighting for their own beliefs. You might, as so many others do, prance right by the five year old memorial there at the entrance, no longer noticing what the sign even means. I never miss what that sign says.

Hey, look if you’d like to continue this “diatribe” that YOU started, let’s not bore all of
Houston with your crass, cutting quips. I’ll be happy to entertain myself with anything you might eventually enlighten me with @ wtarpley@juno.com

As you were… patriot?… and that’s no bullshivik. And have a great F’ing Memorial Day.

Georgia on my mind May 19, 2007

It’s been one year since I’ve been to Georgia to see my parents near
Athens GA. While visiting last year, my pal, two mutts and I also had the opportunity to go camping in
East GA. 

 

We met a friend at a camp site East of Athens, one exit from
South Carolina. In an odd little town called “Dewy Rose”
Georgia, we found ourselves around midnight. Not being familiar with the lay of the land, we ploughed through a horribly treacherous rain storm. After passing three times the entrance and running over one innocent lost rabbit, we found this ‘po-dunk’ (a WAY country saying), well quite a large campground/RV ground. Not that I’m a puss or anything, but all night I couldn’t stop thinking of the rabbit and the probability of her young awaiting their Mother’s return. 

 

So, we settled in at this beautiful place there in the woods with a decadently outfitted club house, a huge pool, a full time staff and Concierge. Hot water showers and cold potable water spigots at every turn. A genuine bonfire that lit up the sky for miles every night at 9pm. Air conditioned cabins fully stocked with your liquor of choice and a library of award winning porn for your DVD player. Come to think of it – I wasn’t sure I was even at a campground. In retrospect, it may have been a less than “po-dunk’ spot to hang one’s hat for a minute or several. ‘twasn’t the Ritz, but a damn close rendition. Actually the Ritz doesn’t offer free parking nor the tolerance of our two furry companions OR the burning of any herb. The Ritz is overrated – and snotty assed filthy dughty to boot. 

 

Anyway, what I want to share here is that while I was taking in the 6am sunrise at the pool, on a flawless Saturday morning all to myself, I met a strikingly handsome young man that forever indented my thinly sheet-metaled life. Side swiped at a necessary four-way intersection that I’d normally have blazed through without a glance. I’ve always considered my life to be one of privilege in all the stereotypical sense of the meaning. I learned that Saturday morning that I have not a clue what privilege or perfection is. 

 

The young man that sauntered by me was a mere child at 28 years old – with soul of a whithered old man. He had a smile that melted my heart. With a sincere and genuine smile that could take him far and wide should he so desire. A smile that wouldn’t allow me to not to speak. A smile that invited me to at least say hello. His name is Kris. 

 

In between Kris backwashing of the pool filters and generally cleaning up around me, arranging deck chairs and the like; he unwittingly allowed me about two hours of his time. After our small talk about the weather and the usual bull shit one feels obliged to offer through the raw meeting of someone; he sat on the cement next to my chair. Within the time he allowed me, I found that I’d really never experienced true gratefulness to be drawing my next breath. 

 

Looking back, I am truly honored to have ever met Kris. As I’ve mentioned prior, I’m not a terribly religious man. But this boy showed up at a seemingly odd moment, an expeditious acceptation on both of our parts that was surely aligned with the stars the wind and the moon. Karma? Angels? 

I haven’t the time to elaborate on all that young Kris taught me that day in-between two simple hours, but I’d like to mention a few points that amazed me. 

He’d traveled the
United States on commerce trains passing by wherever he stood, climbing aboard at his own whim. Absent of schedule, he moved from town to town, working simple jobs just to eat. The only place in the US he’d never been was Jackson Hole
Wyoming to go fly fishing. A place he said he’d always wanted to see. 

He shared very personal spaces with me, usually reserved for the years of psychotherapy that could never ever unlock the essence of. Rape – many. Starved of food – often. Loved – seldom. Allowing the lust of another, be it man or woman when it equaled a decent night’s rest. A self proclaimed “misplaced being” from the standard issue normal society – always. Parents… heritage unknown. Once beat to a bloody pulp by four men intruding upon his fancy of the wrong woman – girl,. while overstaying his welcome in a city he couldn’t even recall. From what beating he left the govt sponsored trauma hospital with two titanium plates in his forehead and one in his right leg. I felt them. They were real. Once discharged he simply climbed aboard the next boxcar to… elsewhere. 

I asked Kris if I was to camp here again in about six months or a year, would I see him again. He most assuredly said “no”. 

 

Whenever I suffer from a bad day, or from what I might consider a bad day; I think of Kris’ undying spirit to boldly carry on regardless of anyone or anything. To proudly profess his perfectly clear understanding of his (our) world and what it means to really live life. A life he’s already lived. One I’ll never be privelaged enough to see in all of my days. 

 

All the
United States over, never a single photo taken. His mind is an 100 gig hard drive of true experience that only he can access. 

 

Notice in this missive I never referenced a negative adjective. In our two hours of friendship, Kris never did either. 

 

I wish him a great experience fly fishing in
Wyoming. 

 

 

I wonder how many oblivious people have dismissed Kris, glancing… judging only from a galloping horse. How unfortunate for them. 

 

Forever touched,WoMbaT1

Forever Friendship May 9, 2007

One of the biggest mysteries in my life is that much of my time, neck deep in my individual assignments or interests of  routine life, I’ve often failed to note the fact that some of my most lifelong memories were occurring right in my lap. I never imagined I’d be looking back upon those times in which I was seeming’too busy’ to notice – for the rest of my life.

I’ve recently received a message from a fine woman that I was privileged to have work with me in Atlanta, GA. She worked for me from early 1998 until around 2000, or so. Or, did I work for her! As we past through times where we bucked up at each other for decisions we’d both made in learning each other, I happened upon an extrodinary friendship. A very unassuming friendship. A friendship finding me completely off guard.

We argued passionately. We respected one another beyond the average and equal supervisor and coworker roles. I’d never managed nine people simultaneously. GOD knows I’d never managed anyone like my Jax. She was definitely NOT mentioned in the managerial handbook on how to corral and handle a passionate and opinionated south Carolinian gal!”

Jackie taught me things about the AutoCad software that kept my head above water, and often my ass out of the fire. I too taught her the ins and outs of yet another, lesser utilized software in the SE Uninted States.

While reminicing back upon your career, have you ever recalled the days where you were so happy in the morning that you couldn’t wait to go to work? Whether or not you were dead tired, hung over, having to face an angry boss or your problematic subordinates and all of their god damned personal drama, or having to ride the train ’cause your raggedy ass car wouldn’t start.

Perhaps unassumingly on her behalf, that’s what Jackie did for me. She kept me wanting to carry on during a very difficult time in my life. To get up and race to work. These are the times I recollect having Jackie as my right hand woman. I always knew she’d speak her mind. And I always knew she’d pull no punches when a schedule was improperly presented. All fucked up if you will. I always knew Jax would handle whatever she was assigned – always on time and always under budget.

I miss my gall pal. My friend that I’d never have known would be a life long friend and fond memory… A life long true friend. A friend that would write nasty messages back and fourth with me, during a rediculous closed door meeting about some idiot manager making a rediculous presentation about the price of tea in China, or some other insignificant time wasting shit. Someone who would hold down the mute button on the phone during a conference call with a client – and say “what a fucking idiot this guy is… what planet is he on… his name must be Jack Me Off.”

Jackie and I had about 50 years of experience between the two of us. And we didn’t mind letting people know ‘what time it was!’ while we were simultaneously showing our utmost respect for our coworkers and subordinates.

We were a good team.  We always will be individually. But just between you and I and the fence post, I think we will be the dynamic duo again in our respective careers. i hope we will be.

I miss you Jax. I know we’ll always be friends. All the best to you and Brady. You are a great couple. I know he was hard to wrangle, but that’s only ’cause he knew you were the ONE! He’s a great man.

Your best pal, Walt… or WALLY if you must. (I’ve never allowed myself to be addressed as WALLY besides anyone but Jackie… Not that I had a choice or anything!!)

wombat1.wordpress.com

Proud to have Pride April 30, 2007

Why is it that during our most innocuousness, some of the most memorable times of our lives; those that our minds allow us to recall – just show up uninvited?

I believe it is an unintended… unattended check point of our lives. A turnaround on a turnpike, marked “for emergency vehicles only”. I hope they didn’t have cameras there when I last declined their suggestion in signage.

At anyfuckin’rate and for reasons completely random in a less than stable mind. I thought tonight, of a life altering experience I was part of, June of 2000. I will always hold this hesitantly obliged invitation dear to my heart. Once recollecting that day’s events, my mind hemorrhages with the joy that seemingly ordinary day offered me.

As a new resident to Atlanta, GA, knowing no one, I embraced the invitation of  my favorite Lesbian ‘tender at the legendary 24-7 bar of it’s time – Backstreet Atlanta (for 30 years grandfathered to the playboy club), (now condos) about me participating in the “Harley Hysteria” that traditionally initiates the Pride Parade of Atlanta’s official “Gay Pride Parade”.

Imagine, my puny 140lb ass atop 1200cc’s of raw American engineered power. Basically a rocket strapped to a bicycle frame – following the direction of a woman I’d always considered to be a very womanly… MAN!

The President of Exxon – a supposed world leader I’d once met, had no longer a place in my personal repertoire of (what I thought was) fame & guaranteed fortune. He hasn’t a clue. He hasn’t a third the leadership skills I was subordiate to that June day.

Amongst the 38 of us “parade starters” were I, one other strikingly handsome (terrified) male… and 36… uh, other… women to some degree. Piloting an estimated three quarter a million dollars worth of obnoxiously loud raucous American pride. Not just gay pride – American pride.

I’ve never witnessed the unbelievable, the unspoken exchange and appreciation – the filming of us bikers, the paparazzi fashioned photography of us from the Mounted Patrol, in an odd sort of analogous way with the APD, the love and equality – the mutual respect and admiration from that of The Atlanta Police Mounted Patrol & Atlanta Fire Department – and we (Gay? or not) Iron horse riders. I’d immagned me being photographed by a Cop – but only at APD headquarters.

It was quite an extraordinary sight to behold. One I’d never witnessed anywhere. That of which I’ll likely never again see or appriciate in my time again. For however a fleating moment, we were on stage for all the city to un-christianlike pass judgement upon.

I’ll not bore you with what became that day’s & night’s activities. But if any readers know Atlanta’s Pride festivals – it’s a solid week long event, rain or shine. Many of these festivals have brought fourth the likes of The B-52’s, REM, Montell Williams,  HBO productions, Turner Broadcasting, CNN, etc., Even a version of the current Bush regime showed up. Who was that snake in wolves clothing. God love the poor bastard who signed up for that costume. He’s still recovering.

Truly, it was more fun than I could possibly have ever prepared myself for. In my own simplistic take, I figure the Atlanta Pride Parade is so large, because of the fact that Atlanta is the unassuming buckle of the bible belt. Luckily for me, The Baptist convention was being held there that year.

If God truly loves me, he’ll forgive the spectacle I’m guilty of staging on any given day.

And in that same year, in an unprecedented gesture to all, the then current Mayor allowed the Pride banners to be strung along city light poles all throughout downtown and Midtown. Perhaps his futile effort to burry the fact that he was a political CROOK! He was my neighbor. I loved him during his tenure in his respective office. Let’s just say… uh… he left me alone; as did I turn a blind eye toward him (and his filthy hateful dirty disrespectful spoiled rotten bratty ass children).

The remains of what I’ve carried away from my short time in a very odd conglomeration of a place…….  and a wonderful 4 years in Atlanta, amounts simply to this: 

Suppression shall always come as aggression for those who disallow evolution.

Quote me on that. PLEASE! GOD knows I need the negative press.

Any at all is good right?All the best my little Angels,

WMT III

Show me love April 23, 2007

Tonight, of all the seven nights to go out and carry on like the common filthy hetaeristic demonic child that I am… I had an extraordinary revelation. True love is pointed directly in all of our faces. We’ve never learned to recognize true love – more than that just considered common. There simply wasn’t a class on it… in-between Home Economics, Sex Ed and Drivers Ed.

Having spent the first 35 years of my life posing in my own self perceived fabulousness, as most of us might have; I came to a conclusion in that horrifically long chapter in my life… say, around 37. I found that I’d never had proper enlightenment, or encouragement to set loftier goals for my future. I was simply put, disregarded… damaged goods… marked down to half price… buy one get one free… unintentionally poised for the probability of being a complete failure…… I was unloved.

At some point during that ignoble young super-sale, say… at 40 years of age, I’ve taken the time to recollect the usual “liberty” visits that my father was awarded during his time defending our country. Since I’m far from being a math wizard, I added and subtracted dates, carried the two, divided by seven, had a drink… and arrived at the reality of me being unplanned. My sister and I were simply a shot in the dark on my parent’s behalf – exactly marked nine months post liberty, times two.

That’s likely is the norm from that era. Regardless, during all the missed opportunities in my life- I was never taught what love is. The expected love and nurturing one might assume from their mother and father. I wasn’t told the many variances of the meaning of said word. Kindergarten love. Real love forever and ever, or even for the moment. Add love at first sight (I’ve always thought that was a ‘crock-o-shit’ – but I’ve experienced it personally). Playful love, perhaps that felt for a family pet. Passionate, desperate, sleep deprived, heart-wrenching unbridled love of a high school sweetheart.

Incestuous love. Love from a trusted neighbor or Pastor. Love from a passerby at the safe haven of a school bus stop. Love improper.

Tonight, at 42.75 years old, during the borderline insanity that is currently my existence – I embraced the meaning of what real love is: the love of my life. As in past tense, I was no where near expectant of where or when this love might have accosted my well worn heart. It came in the form of two Labs and a Hag. For all the finery and riches collected the world over – I couldn’t replace her.You are my sunshine… you are my cloudiest day… you are real.

I love you FILTHY

W