Gunfighter: A Modern Warrior's Life

Happy Birthday, Baby!

Right about this time, on the night you were born, I was, with the rest of my infantry platoon, skulking about in the coastal North Carolina scrub, waiting for the rest of my battalion to land from a few amphibious ships lying just off the shore. We were waiting for the lead company to land so we could shoot them up and then run like hell. We were the aggressor element for a night landing and deployment exercise for the 1st battalion, sixth Marines of the Second Marine Division.

The exercise went well, we completed our mission, and in the wee small hours of the morning, the rest of the battalion headed back out to sea, via our LVTP-7 amphibious tractors. While they went back to sea, my platoon went back to the garrison because the exercise was over. Even though we knew that we had done well, I wasn't interested. Not at all. You see, I knew that your mother was due to have you at any time. I had been in the field for a few days, and had no contact (this was before everyone and their brother had a cellular phone in their pocket).

Once we arrived back at Camp Geiger (NC), my platoon cleaned its gear, showered, and we all headed for our racks (beds to those of you who don't habla) to get some sleep. I was destined not to sleep, because just as I was about to get my head onto my pillow, the duty NCO came to me and said: "Hey! Corporal Johnson... the Staff Duty NCO needs to see you". I thought about swearing copiously, but I thought that there was really only one reason that the Staff Sergeant would really need to see me, so I dressed and ran to his office, two blocks away.

Arriving at his office, he said: "Corporal Gunfighter?? Are you married?" I said that I was. "Is your wife named Jennifer?" I said that it was. "Is she pregnant?" I said that she was, thinking that I would like to bayonet this clown in the throat... "Well congratulations, Marine! You are the father of a baby girl!" At that moment, all of the personnel in the battalion duty offices congratulated me with handshakes and punches (we were Marines, we didn't hug, we punched)

I went back to my company area in a daze. As I went to the pay phone, I saw my pal Jim, who had been stationed with me in DC, across the quadrangle. I shouted to him that "it's a girl!" and dashed to make my calls.

After calling my parents, I roused up the little weasel that was our company clerk and told him to do my leave form, so I could head home. Since your mom was still in the DC area, and had given birth at the U.S. Air Force hospital at Andrews Air Force base. I jumped in the car around noon (I slept for about two hours) and headed north. I made good time, and arrived to meet you only 12 hours after you were born.

I was stunned.

I was speechless.

When I think about it, I still am.

Twenty one years later, you are an amazing young woman. An unassuming young person who loves her family, her church, her friends, and are a friend to everyone you meet.

I am so proud of you.

Happy Birthday, babe.

Love,

Daddy

 

Win A Barnes & Noble Nook! (for the Dad in your house)

You might remember that I told you all that I wanted (but did not receive) a Nook for Christmas, right?  Of course you do…. What’s that?  Some of you don’t know what a Nook is?  Well, I’m not talking about a little area in your house where you keep your bric-a-brac, I’m talking about the Barnes & Noble Nook, the newest major player in the electronic reader market.

The Nook is of a similar size and capability of the Amazon Kindle, so if you are familiar with one, you will sort of have a handle on the other.

I suppose that I should quit babbling, here and get to the point of this post:  Well, here it is:  my blogging pal, the very smart (and very cute) Tech Savvy Mama is giving away a Barnes & Noble Nook!  Tell me that isn’t cool! 

 

 

If you would like to participate in the giveaway, you’d better hurry, because today is the last day.  So, hurry up and go clickety-click over to her blog and enter.

OK, seriously… why are you still here?  Didn’t you hear read me saying that you needed to go clickety-click?  So go!  Now!  There’s a good fellow.

 

 

 

So... if you are wondering what this post has to do with Fatherhood... let's just say that dads read, too!  I mean, you have to realize that we rockin' dads aren't just domestic studs and killers of vermin.    If you have a moment, head on over the The Dad Blogs and see what my brother fathers (and sister mothers) are talking about today!

 

Announcement:  Next week at A Modern Warriors Life, we will be talking about the American Civil War... and Beer. Yeah, I know that those things really don't have anything to do with each other, but they are both things that I feel strongly about at the moment. 

 

Be here.

 

Aloha

Fatherhood Friday: Mentally Sexy

I am interrupting the list of books and movies that I need to review to tell you about something that is going on in the Dad-blogging community.  It is the "Mentally Sexy" movement/contest.  What is "Mentally Sexy", you ask?  well, I will just let one of my brother fathers tell you.  Please meet Reservoir Dad , an Australian husband, stay-at-home dad,  and blogger.  Reservoir Dad is the originator of the ""Mentally Sexy" concept and contest, and here is his definition:

 "To me, the Mentally Sexy Man is one who takes responsibility in maintaining the passion in his relationship.

One of the greatest aphrodisiacs for women is being desired? Yep, I think I read that somewhere… and so it would follow that a man, in a committed relationship, who is pitching in with the housework and child-rearing, to allow more time for intimacy, is displaying to his wife, in a very practical, visual way, that he still desires her very much. I call that a win win for both husband and wife."

 

If you are reading this and you are a dad, ask yourself:  Are YOU mentally sexy?

If you are a mom, ask yourself:  Is this a good definition for mentally sexy?

 

This post is brought to you as part of the Fatherhood Friday community at The Dad Blogs.  It's where all the cool dads are!  You should take some time to come and visit to see what my brother fathers (and sister mothers) are talking about.

Fatherhood Friday: Music To My Ears

Do you ever get tired of:

"I want a bicycle, daddy ($$)"

"I want to go to Great Wolf Lodge daddy($$$$)"

"Daddy, help me with my home work, please"

"Daddy, will you sing me a song?"

"Daddy, can you fix this for me?"

"Daddy, I lost my music book"

"Daddy, I'm hungry"

"Daddy, I'm hungry"

"Daddy, I'm hungry"

 

You don't?  Neither do I.  My daughters love their daddy... and they NEED me, too.  I'm not just a potted plant.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

This post was brought to you by the Fatherhood Friday community.  Give us a visit over at The Dad Blogs, and see what your brother fathers (and sister mothers) are talking about today.

Fatherhood Friday: The Perfect Day (Gunfighter Style)

Today is Fatherhood Friday, my friends, and as a dad, I want to talk a little bit about a few things that make me happy.  Today's post may not seem like it has much to do with being a dad, but bear with me and I think that you will see that it all comes together.  When you are done reading this, go over to the Dad Blogs, and read what my brother fathers (and sister mothers) are talking about!

When we go on our annual pilgrimages to Disney World, we often go see a show that features some of the characters from Winnie The Pooh.  The story behind this once-amusing show isn't important, but at one point during the show, Winnie and his friends are asked to describe the perfect day.  While I am certain that the answer to that question will as different as can be for anyone who is asked, but I have to tell you that right now, I am having the perfect Gunfighter morning.

I left home a little late this morning, and got to watch a show that I recorded on the DVR last night, which means I can fall asleep while watching something else tonight.  Anyway, since I left the house late, I was able to watch the sun rise as I went tooling up I-95, through Lorton... today's sunrise was particularly nice.  The traffic was light, today probably owing to the horrendous outpouring of vehicles yesterday, so I made great time, even though it was later than I normally drive, which would usually result in heavier traffic.  While I drove, I listened to the music I downloaded from iTunes last night... Sly & The Family Stone, The Isely Brothers, Mariah Carey (yes, I know that Mimi is crazy, but she can sing!), and Christina Aguilera.

When I arrived at work, I went straight to the range and qualified with my pistol (the new training quarter started last week)... will you be shocked to hear that I shot a score of 250 out of a possible 250?  I had to do some target maintenance this morning, and when I finished, I had an email rom a pal in a different agency, wondering if I was free for lunch, and I am!

Getting that out of the way, I shuffled some paperwork off of my desk (administration is a pain in the ass, but it's gotta get done), and then opened a box that had my name written on it, that was on my desk when I sat down (it wasn't there when I first arrived at work).  Opening the box, I discovered that I had been gifted with six new magazines for my M-4 rifle! (yes, new fighting gear makes me happy.  Don't judge me).

As you can see, things are going exceptionally well for me, today, and it's only 10:30!

You know what's better than ALLof that, though?  The fact that I am going to have a completely un-programmed weekend to spend with my family.  That's right, folks... NO SOCCER THIS WEEKEND!, on top of THATis the fact that Monday is a holiday for us government weenies, but soccergirl still has school, so Mrs. Gunfighter and I will have nearly 6 hours to ourselves.

Beat that!

NOTE:  As I proof-read this little missive, I loaded all of my new magazines with factory fresh 5.56x45mm ammunition, and listened to the theme from "Shaft".  Life is goood!

Fatherhood Friday: When Your Child Lies To You, and Why They Do It

Summer is over... Fall is here... I can't pretend anymore.  School is in.  It's Soccer season, and I actually had to wear a jakct to work this morning.

Fall is a time of new beginnings... things start to change in our house, and probably in yours as well.  There are new classes at school, new clothes (or uniforms) for the kids, and the start of the children's "activities".  For us it's soccer, and Girl Scouts... and a new thing this school year: Band.  My youngest is now playing clarinet (or at least, learning to play), which brings me to today's topic for Fatherhood Friday.

This post presented itself to me on a platter, at 9 A.M. on Wednesday of this week.  I was working the control booth at the range, and we were between courses of fire, when I got a telephone call from Mrs GF.  My wife proceeded to tell me the story of my darling soccergirl having admitted that she had lost her clarinet.  The clarinet that she had only had two lessons with.  The clarinet that she had been so excited to get so that she could join the elementary school band... that clarinet.

Our story, it appears, began on Tuesday afternoon, when SoccerGirl discovered that she left said clarinet on the school bus.  An hour or so later, when I asked SoccerGirl about her band class that day, she told me band class was scheduled for Wednesday... not being certain (and being fairly forgetful) I let it go. 

Om Wednesday morning, there could be no more hiding the fact that the clarinet was missing, Soccer Girl came clean to mommy, who gave her an earful and then reported the missing instrument to the school secretary, in hopes that the item would be turned in by some helpful soul.

To make a long story only slightly less long, by 10:30 Wednesday morning, it was all over.  One of SG's classmates, who also rides the same bus, realized the she left the clarinet on the bus, and took it home, bringing it to her when he arrived at school.  Hurrah for the honest kid, right?  Right.

Well, not-so-hurrah for the kid who lied to her father about band class to hide the fact that her clarinet had gone missing.  Not-so-hurrah for the kid who hid this from both of her parents and had a hard time sleeping the night before, because she was holding on to this problem (that really would have been easily resolved had we known).

So, Wednesday afternoon, when I picked up SG from her after-school program, I asked her if she was glad to have her clarinet back.  She smiled and laughed, almost giddy with relief.  That didn't last because I then asked her if she had band practice that day.  She shook her head in the negative.  I then asked her if she actually had band practice on Tuesday, and of course she nodded that she had.  Knowing that I was on to her and that I wasn't happy, she started to tear up, but I told her not to cry, because I wasn't going to yell or anything like that.  We had a conversation in the car about lying, and why it is wrong.  I told her that there were consequences for not telling the truth, and that after we talked about it, her mother and I would decide on her punishment.

We rode home, mostly in silence, and after homework was done, and 20 minutes of clarinet practice was finished, It was time for Girl Scouts.  After her meeting and dinner, when she was ready for bed, I asked her if she felt better with everything out in the open, and she agreed that she did.  After the usual ritual, she was off to bed.

This is where things start to unravel.  Mrs GF, with sensible logic that, truthfully, felt like a real kick to the bollocks, said the we shouldn't be too mad , because we had been the ones to teach her to lie.  Of course, being the dim bulb that I am, I didn't understand what she meant until she gave this simple explanation: "We tell her not to say certain things to loony Grandma, right?  She knows that she isn't telling the truth, and that it's for Grandma's own good, and to keep from setting her off.  So she did this (lie) to keep herself out of trouble, and to keep me, AND you, from freaking out about the clarinet."

She was right. 

She usually is. 

I hated the fact that she was right... but I couldn't deny it.  Now comes the self-examination that has to happen for the sake of truth-telling. 

I thought I had all of this dad stuff down pat.  I guess I have more to learn.

Damn.

Autumn is a time of new beginnings... I guess I have to start over in a new place, too.

Fatherhood Friday - All My Children

If you haven't been reading my blog for a while, you may not know much about my oldest daughter or my family.  You might want to read this, and this, before you continue.

Last weekend was one for the books.

A week ago, today, my oldest daughter, Fast-Pitch, called me from school (she goes to a small university in West Virginia, where she lives with her mother, my ex-wife) to tell me that she was going to be in Washington, DC for the weekend with some friends, and that she would be arriving on Saturday afternoon.

I was really happy about that for several reasons, first because I hadn't seen Fast-Pitch in a long while; second, because SoccerGirl has really been missing her big sister; and third, because Fast-Pitch has been in some conflict with her mother for the past several months, and I wanted to talk to her face-to-face about that.

On Saturday morning, about an hour after the announced departure time, I called Fast-Pitch to see about a projected arrival time... only to find out that they hadn't left yet, and might not for some time.  Turns out that they weren't as organized as they might have been... which is just a shock for a bunch of twenty-somethings, right?  They finally arrived at their hotel at around 10 PM!  Anyway, it was good to know that they arrived safely, and we made plans to meet in the morning for breakfast, before they started their running around in the city (SoccerGirl wanted to hang with them, but I thought that it would be a bit of a drag to inflict a ten-year-old on them).

Due to a bit of miscommunication about the location of their hotel (totally my fault.  I'll own that),SoccerGirl and I arrived late, and so only got to spend about 20 minutes with her sister.  SoccerGirl was very upset about this.  Very upset.  she thought that she wasn't going to get to see Fast-Pitch again on this trip, and she cried for most of the drive home.  I told her that we would see her sister in the morning, for breakfast, and that she didn't need to to worry about it, but she wasn't having any of that.  She didn't speak to me for hours.

This was a new thing.  It was the first time that I was had ever received the silent treatment from my darling, daddy's girl, child.  I felt like crap.  I knew that there was nothing to be done about it... I apologized profusely, but....

Anyway, it was later in the day when she relaxed enough to tell me that she was looking forward to seeing her sister again on Monday morning.

The great thing about that day came in the late afternoon when Fast-Pitch was down on the National Mall with her friends, and walked past the carousel that is in front of the main Smithsonian building.  She remembered that when she was little, before she and her mother went back to West Virginia, that I used to take her to the carousel on the weekends that she was with me.  as a matter of fact, it was on a park bench right in front of that carousel that she met Mrs. Gunfighter for the first time.  I was thrilled at her memory of that place that meant so much to her and had stayed in her memory for nearly 15 years.

Fast-Pitch and I made plans to get together on Monday morning, and did exactly that.  Soccer Girl and I bounced out of bed early and showered and dressed in record time, and headed for Fairfax!  We made great time to the hotel (and slightly fractured the posted speed-limits)SoccerGirl and her sister gabbled on with each other, and laughed and giggled together while I watched (and even more when I went to get another cup of coffee), as proud a father as any man has ever been.  We talked about everything under the sun, and after two happy, too-short, hours it was time for Fast-Pitch and her sorority sisters to pile back (all 5 of them) into the teeny-tiny car that they had driven in, for the drive back to school.

It was great to see my daughter, who has grown into such a lovely, loving, caring, smart, faith-filled, young woman.  She is devoted to her little sister, who is equally devoted to her.  Seeing her was great, and only improved by seeing the two of them together.

I didn't accomplish much of anything at home over the long weekend... which Mrs. GF isn't particularly thrilled about, but. lovely lady that she is, she didn't bust my chops about it.  I have to tell you that I was feeling too good to think about it...  I was busy counting my blessings.

This post is brought to you as part of the Fatherhood Friday community at The Dad Blogs.  It's where all the cool dads are!  You should take some time to come and visit to see what my brother fathers (and sister mothers) are talking about.

Have a nice weekend,

GF

Fatherhood Friday - Having Fun For Us?

It's Friday, friends.  Almost time to take a few days off, and do something fun with your family.  Fridays are good, but not only because of the impending weekend.  Friday's are made even better because of Fatherhood Friday.

Check it out!

From the website:  Fatherhood Friday is both a day and a growing community of dads and moms sharing stories, ideas, photos and movies with one topic in mind - fatherhood. In a world that seems happy to deliver a message that dads are incapable buffoons, Dad Blogs is committed to changing that perception. The reality is, as we see it, parents today are more aware of parenting and the impact it has on their children and dads everywhere are becoming more active caregivers. If you don't believe me--check out the posts in our archives.

During our recently ended vacation in Orlando, I saw something that I didn't expect to see.  This thing hit me so quickly, and so hard, that it took a little time to register... and then I started seeing it all over the place. 

It happened at Disney World, in the Fantasy Land section, as I was waiting in the queue with soccergirl, to take a spin on the Magic Teacup ride.  While we waited, I saw the parents of little children, settling in to the teacups and staring at their children with maniacal smiles on their faces.  I wondered what was going on, and then it dawned on me:  These parents were watching to see the joy in their children's eyes as they enjoyed their ride.

It was creepy.

Seriously.  It was creepy.  It was creepy because of the look of expectation on the faces of some of these otherwise-normal-seeming adults.  Look, I am as much about enjoying the enjoyment of my own child.  I love it when soccergirl is happy about things.  Seeing her happy makes me happy, so I get it.... but this was different.  I never sat, paying rapt attention, waiting for the light of joy to be turned on.  In this particular instance, while the parent was peering into the child's eyes, the child often stared back as if to say, "I know that you want something mommy/daddy, but I don't know what it is".  When the ride was over, some of the parents looked disappointed about the lack of reaction from their children.  Disappointed especially since they had still and video cameras at the ready to not only record the magical moment, but to have photographic proof for friends and grandparents that their kid had the BEST.  TIME.  EVER.

As a parent, I want my children to enjoy themselves.  I want them to have fun.  I am mindful of the fact that at age 45, my ten year old may find things to be fun that I can only shake my head at.  Such is life.  What I try to do is present opportunities to enjoy things, rather than make her do things with the intent that she MUST ENJOY THEM.  Make sense?  I hope so, because this is all sort of just flowing out of me as I prepare to teach a class, and then make a presentation to a Senator whose name I won't drop.

Anyway... in my mind, we, as parents can make opportunities for our kids to have fun, but we can't make them have fun, nor can we have fun FOR them.  Further, and most important they shouldn't be expected to have fun for US.

Fatherhood Friday is a growing community and is brought to you by The Dad Blogs.  Take a moment to drop by and see what my brother fathers (and sister mothers) are talking about.

Fatherhood Friday: When Little Girls Grow Up

You know something?  You wouldn't know it to look at me, but I'm a tough guy.  I am.  I have a really cool tough-guy job.  I spend my time at work talking about better ways to shoot people.  I train with all manner of weapons on a daily basis, and try to improve the skills of my students.  You know... tough-guy stuff.

One of the things about being a modern tough guy is this:  You can't be tough all of the time.  Like four nights ago.

So there I was, Monday evening... about to do some laundry, because soccer girl (who is ten) needed some things washed before going to Day Camp at the beginning of the week.  Mrs GF was paying attention to a particular article of laundry and gesturing so that I would also take note (soccergirl was in the room, reading).  I wasn't sure of what she had in her hands, but after the briefest bit of confusion, she made it clear to me that the item was... well... something that I have been dreading for a while.

It was a training bra.

What?  A training bra?  Certainly not yet.

Despite my disbelief, it was indeed, a training bra.

Dude.  I'm not ready.  I'm not ready for this at all.

I mean, I know that my daughter is growing rapidly.  I know that she has acquired new-found modesty, I know that she isn't going to remain the child that I would carry upstairs and put in her loft bed every night.  I know that she is growing has grown out of wanting me to sing her to sleep at night... and I know that there will be knuckle-headed idiots that I may have to kill boys in her future... but I'm not ready for it now.

I was speechless, and Mrs Gunfighter put a finger to her lips to make sure that I stayed silent.  Later, after soccergirl went to bed, we talked about this new developement... I mean the bra, not sg's developement, and I found that I still couldn't speak about it.

I have been writing this post in my head ever since then... and I still can't gather any more coherent thought than this:  My little girl isn't a little girl anymore, and as natural as that is, I feel like crap about it.

_____

This Fatherhood Friday post is brought to you by The Dad Blogs.  Why don't you drop by and see what my broghter fathers (and sister mothers) are talking about today.

In Memoriam

Today's Fatherhood Friday post is being pre-empted, but please, take just a few second and read this:

Here at A Modern Warrior's Life, we would like to take the opportunity, on this sad day, to extend our condolences to the family of Border Patrol Agent Robert Rojas, who was killed in the line of duty, on July 24th.

Agent Rojas was shot to death in U.S. territory, about 100 feet north of the border, by an assailant who had just crossed from Mexico.

Agent Rojas was with several other agents who had responded to a call about four intruders from a Border Scout at about 8:45 P.M., approximately 60 miles east of San Diego, California.

When the agents arrived, a foot chase ensued, and at least one person fired at the agents, striking Agent Rojas in the head and fatally wounding him.

The murderer and his accomplices are believed to have fled back to Mexico.

This morning, in just a few hours, Agent Rojas will be laid to rest, and our thoughts and prayers are with his family, friends, colleagues and loved ones in their bereavement.

______________

While not on the topic of fatherhood, I thought that this was just too important to let go by.  Agent Rojas died in the service of his country, enforcing the laws that he was sworn to uphold.  For his sacrifice, I am grateful.