Gunfighter: A Modern Warrior's Life

The Alien's Grand Tour

TypePad asks a "Question of the day" on it's opening page, and I decided to answer this one.

"If aliens beamed into your house from deep space and asked for a 24-hour tour of Earth, what would you show them?"

Since trasnsportation appears to be non problematic, and I am assuming friendly aliens, here, I would show them the following:

The Grand Canyon

Disney World

The Great Barrier Reef

The Cathedral at Notre Dame

New York City (especially the subway)

An International Rugby match

Take them for pizza at Joe's Pizzaria, in Vauxhall, New Jersey

Table Mountain

Bondi Beach, Australia

The Pyramids/Sphinx

Victoria Falls

and to Potomac Mills Mall

 

My Friend Walter Mitty

You all know who Walter Mitty is, don't you?  That wistful fellow from the book, so fancifully played by Danny Kaye in the movie "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty"?  Yeah, that's the guy.

 

Walter Mitty used to imagine himself in all sorts of heroic situations... and the name Walter Mitty survives in popular culture as a euphemism for daydreamer. 

 

Most people have what we call "Walter Mitty" fantasies... those things that we pictures ourselves being or doing in our own little perfect worlds.  For some people their personal fantasy (non-sexual folks, let's stay focused, here)can be heroic... doing daring feats, rescuing helpless people, being intrepid in the face of danger AND getting the girl/guy at the end of the scene.  For some people, Walter Mitty fantasies have to do with being star athletes; being a big-shot attorney; wealthy power brokers; politicians.... all sorts of things.  I know of people who, in their best Walter Mitty scenarios, do what I do.  Imagine that, there are people who wish they had my life.  Ha.  Apparently they don't know my mother-in-law. 

 

Anyway, I don't want to talk about the psychology of the whole Walter Mitty thing, because I don't know enough about why people think the things they do to try to make any analysis.  What I really want to talk about is my own Walter Mitty fantasies.  In mine, I'm never a great soldier... I've already lived that life.  I'm not an international traveler... I've done that, too.   I'm not the guy that gets the hot chicks... done that, and I got to keep her, too! 

 

No. 

 

In my Walter Mitty fantasies, I'm a musician.  In my mind's eye it's all about being on stage playing a screaming guitar.  I'm Angus Young (only better looking), I'm Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Page, George Clinton, Jack White, Eric Clapton, Stevie Ray Vaughn, and every other legendary rock guitarist who has ever rocked a huge venue and whacked the whammy bar unmercifully and made people's ears bleed.

 

That's me. 

 

Of course, that sort of thing could never come true, because I have all of the musical talent of a bale of hay.

 

It's nice to think about, though.  Isn't it?

Ms. Winky?

...and then there are things that you just can't explain.

I realize that, as a man, there are certain things I'm not going to understand about women.  Well, most things, I suppose.  There I confess.  I never understood the "don't ask a woman her age" stuff, and I sure as hell don't get the whole "does my butt look big in this?"  because that's just plain stupid (and really what man wants a woman with the ass of a 12 year old boy?  Geesh!).

Having made that confession, I have to ask why anyone would think that this monstrosity is a good idea?

Anyone?

Anyone?

Bueller?

Anyone?

I thought not.  Look, I get the idea of, ahem, interesting lingerie, but this is just too wierd.

Having said all of that, I have to tell you, having my Blackberry handy to take this picture was just perfect.

Church, Carcinogens, & Iron Eyes Cody

Dear Pastor J,

Yesterday's outdoor church service and church picnic were great!  We really enjoyed the beautiful setting of the state park and were glad about having the opportunity to spend a few hours in fellowship with so many people from the congregation and their guests.

The thing that I thought was really great was the fact that the kids of the congregation had a good chance to play together and solidify as a self-identified group.  How can you get any better than that?

As I am typing this at 0415 on Monday morning, with my stomach doing the acid reflux gurgle, it comes to me that there might have been a few things better than than watching the kids play... as far-fetched as this might seem.  One of those things happened during the service.  You might have noticed, during one of the hymns, that I was shaking and had my hand over my face.  Just so you know, it wasn't because I was overcome by the solemnity of the song... no, it was because a certain member of the church council, known to my other readers as Mrs Gunfighter, picked that moment in the service, which was all about renewal and respect for the environment which God has given us, to start cracking wise.

I suppose I should be truthful here and say that I started it when I told my dear wife that one of the hymns reminded me the old "Woodsy The Owl" commercials (you know... Give a hoot, don't pollute). While you started the sermon and admonished us to care for God's creation, Mrs Gunfighter (whom I suspect wasn't enjoying the sermon) leaned over and said to me "look!   Over there!  (pointing out to the beautiful Potomac river) It's that indian in the canoe... from the old commercial, and HE'S CRYING!").

You know... I try to maintain my composure at church, even though funny things happen from time to time... but, this was too much.  I hadn't thought of the old Iron Eyes Cody commercial in years, and at that moment all I could think of was that old public service announcement from the 1970's, and I lost it.  I had to cover my face, and it was really hard to hide the heaving of my shoulders.  Even now, with my gut feeling like I have been knifed, I can't help but laugh about it.

Anyway, back to the picnic... another funny moment came during the "cooking of the hamburgers."  Dude, next time we have a cookout, you need to step away from the lighter fluid... I could have sworn we were going to have a major fire, respect for God's creation or no.  Apparently, and I got this from one of the congregants at the END of the burger line, that whole rack of burgers tasted like they were cooked on a flame from a refinery fire!  From where Mrs GF and I were sitting, all we could see was you, P, and J, looking at the charcoal and squirting lighter fluid on it every 30 seconds or so.  I know it doesn't sound funny, but trust me on this... it was.

Anyway, Iron Eyes Cody, and Refinery Burgers notwithstanding, we had a fine old time yesterday.  Soccer Girl was nearly beside herself from playing at the playground, throwing the Frisbee, fishing, chatting with the young women, and getting to play with your daughter, to whom, if you hadn't already noticed, she is particularly attached.  By the time she went to bed last night she was absolutely bushed.

Good times.  Good times.

****NOTE**** Don't worry, neither the park nor the river look anything like the one in the commercial. The natural beauty of the place is stunning.****

I Am Gunfighter. I Bring The Awesome.

Seriously.

I am an awesome warrior. 

Evil people fear me.  Many tremble when they know my arrival is imminent.  I have caused governments to fall in countries bigger than Texas, just by showing up at the airport.  I have caused people to lose a night of sleep because they knew that the dawn would bring light... and me. 

I make Chuck Norris look like a sissy.

People who live in fear feel safe when I am around.

I'm a bad dude.

Better than all of those things is this:  I have an awesome new haircut.

For real.

The Ides of March

If you'll take a look at the calendar, you will see that the Ides of March are almost upon us.

The Ides of March... you know that phrase, right?  Well, what does it mean?  To most people, it is a reference Shakespeare's Julius Caeser, wherein Caeser is assasinated.

For other people, particularly scholars of the ancient roman world, The Ides of March (TIOM) simply meant the 15th day of four months of the year (includin March), and the thirteenth day of the other eight months.

Yes, for most people, TIOM refers to a place on the calender, but did you know that the term means so much more to so many people?

I have to admit, when good bloggy pal Becky suggested this topic to me the other night, when I had no bleeding idea what I was going to blog about today, I immediately thought of the Shakespearian reference... but then, I thought of another reference.  Depending on how old you are and what country you live in, hearing a reference to TIOM means something else.  Have you ever heard of the musical group with the same name?  Back in the early 1970's there was a rock band with a brass-heavy sound, called The Ides of March, and even if you don't remember them, the odds are great that if you ever listen to the oldies radio stations, you have heard their biggest hit, called "Vehicle" (click here to listen).

The Ides of March also brings to mind a novel by Thornton Wilder.

Nothing else came to mind, so I got a little help from a friend... a friend named google.  These things also happened on the Ides of March in different years:

1493 - Christopher Columbus returns to Spain, concluding his first voyage to the Western Hemisphere.

1603 - Samuel de Champlain, French navigator and explorer, sails for the New World.

1776 - U.S. Congress resolves that authority of British Crown should be suppressed.

1848 - Hungarian intellectuals stage bloodless revolution in Budapest against Austro-Hungarian empire. It is put down by Russian troops the next year.

1874 - France assumes protectorate over central Indochina region of Annam, which breaks off vassalage to China.

1875 - The Roman Catholic Archbishop of New York City, John McCloskey, is named the first American cardinal by Pope Pius IX.

1903 - British conquest of northern Nigeria is complete.

1913 - U.S. President Woodrow Wilson holds the first open presidential news conference.

1916 - U.S. force of 12,000 soldiers under Gen. John Pershing is ordered to Mexico to capture revolutionary leader Pancho Villa.

1917 - Czar Nicholas II of Russia abdicates after humiliating defeat by the Germans. The Russian state and military begin to dissolve.

1919 - The American Legion is founded in Paris.

1938 - Nazi Germany seizes Czechoslovakia with little resistance, after having annexed the Sudetenland, with its fortifications, the previous year.

1988 - Israeli authorities impose travel ban on Palestinians in occupied territories.

1989 - Soviet Union's President Mikhail S. Gorbachev calls for rapid measures to ease chronic Soviet food shortages.

1990 - Iraq executes London newspaper reporter, Farzad Bazoft, after a closed-trial conviction for spying.

1991 - Serbian President Borisav Jovic resigns after the collective presidency fails to declare a nationwide state of emergency. .

1999 - Rosemary Nelson, a Northern Ireland attorney who represented Catholic clients in several high-profile cases, is killed by a car bomb. The outlawed anti-Catholic group Red Hand Defenders claims responsibility.

2000 - In a forensic first, a grand jury in New York indicts an unidentified man for three rapes based on his DNA genetic profile.

2001 - Armed Chechens hijack a Russian plane carrying 174 people after it takes off from Turkey and force it to land in Medina, Saudi Arabia.

2003 - Rebels led by ousted army chief General Francois Bozize capture the Central African Republic's capital, Bangui, and the international airport while President Ange-Felix Patasse was out of the country. Bozize declared himself president.

2004 - Saudi security forces kill two militants, including one considered al-Qaida's chief of operations on the Arabian Peninsula, in a shootout in the capital Riyadh.

2005 - A French court convicts six men in an alleged plot to send a suicide bomber into the U.S. Embassy in Paris, wrapping up a trial that shed light on the spread of Islamic radicals in Europe.

2007 - The Islamic militant Hamas and its Fatah rivals forge a unity Palestinian government to end more than a year of political wrangling, isolation and bloodshed. Israel quickly rejects the new leadership, saying it fails to recognize the Jewish state.

2008 - China orders tourists out of Tibet's capital while troops on foot and in armored vehicles patrol the streets and enforce a strict curfew, a day after riots that a Tibetan exile group says left at least 30 protesters dead.

A few prominent birthdays for THe IDes of MArch are as folloews:

Andrew Jackson, U.S. president (1767-1845)

Sly Stone, U.S. singer/musician (1943--)

will.i.am, U.S. rapper/musician (1975--)

Eva Longoria Parker, U.S. actress (1975--).

I Am Me(me)

In 1983, Ozzy Osbourne released an album called "Bark At The Moon".  The album was a hit, and contained several songs that I still enjoy when I listen to the CD (which usually gets played when Mrs GF isn't home).  One song on the CD speaks to how I feel this morning, and it's called "So Tired".  The song is a slow, mournful, lament about lost love, but that isn't what I'm talking about here.  I'm being literal today and probably not making much sense.

Where was I?  Oh, right... the song.

Anyway, the title of the song is "So Tired" and that's the bottom line, folks.  I'm beat.  I wish that the start of the weekend was going to bring some rest in my direction, but it won't.  When Monday comes... I'm REALLY going to be in the hurt locker.  Let's breakdown my weekend, shall we?

Tonight, I have to run soccergirl's team practice, as the coach will be out of town.

Saturday morning, we have a 9 A.M. game.  The coach won't be there, so I've got the ball.

Sunday morning... we have the early church service, then Sunday School, and bail early to get to our 11 A.M. make-up game from last week's rain-out.  Oh, and then I have to be at work in the afternoon.

F***!

So rather than complain (any more than I already have) bitterly about my plight, I thought I would leave you this little meme, brought to you by my bloggy pal from "Downunda", Kelly, from She-Power.  Give her a visit some day.

 

I am

Honest, strong, somewhat touchy-feely with people I really like... not so much with anyone else, and likely to tell you exactly what's on my mind.

I think

That the Republican party is run by moneyed interests that use fear, sexism, classism, and racism to get their working class votes.

I know

That success in battle is either the result of continuous, rigorous training... or dumb-ass luck.

I have

A glass half-full outlook on life

I wish

I was thirty again.

I hate

it when people are constantly late

I miss

Decent pizza.  You can't get decent pizza... or good Italian food in Virginia... or anywhere else, down here in Dixie.

I fear

Impending fascism in America.

I hear

My colleague's radio playing "You really got me going" by The Kinks

I smell

everything.  My nose works very well.

I crave

affection... that's not so bad, is it?

I search

the Internet for very random things

I wonder

Who really shot JR

I regret

nothing

I love

pretty much everybody... even one or two Republicans (but not Bush, Cheney, McCain, or Palin)

I ache

all over these days... I'm not getting any younger, you know.

I am not

a backstabber or a rat.

I believe

In the saving grace of Christ.

I dance

when people aren't looking

I sing

a lot.  I know all the words to all of the songs in several musicals, and pretty much all of the early Black Sabbath Stuff.

I cry

(inside) when firearms are poorly maintained by their owners.

I fight

To win... there are no rules other than the aforementioned winning.

I win

Regularly

I lose

My temper more than is probably healthy.  The good thing is that it never lasts.

I never

want to be unloved

I always

try to smile at people.  You get back what you give.

I confuse

lots of people, because what they see when they look at me, is usually very different from what they get.

I listen

when others talk to me.  I try to do this more than talk.

I can

do a few things well.  I can cook, I can "read" people, and I can shoot exceptionally well.

I am scared

of leaving this world unremembered.

I need

LOVE

I am happy

when I am with my family

I imagine

being able to go into space some day.  That was my boyhood dream.  It hasn't changed.

I tag

You!

Guest Blogger - Queen of The Mayhem: Infantile

Hey Y'all!

My name is Queen of the Mayhem and I am a REPUBLICAN. (dodging flying rocks from the peanut gallery). Who would have thought that my old friend Gunfighter would set a RED gal like me free on his site!  I figured while he was gone I would lower the standard a little and write about my favorite topic.....NONSENSE! 

 

To that end, I thought I might share some of the crazy things I have done to my family to appease my incredible desire to embrace all things infantile!

 

1. I have actually locked Mr. Mayhem out the car and insisted he perform dance moves before entering the vehicle.  After a rousing routine of the cabbage patch and running man....he gainted entry.  (If you have never seen the video of this on America's Funniest Home Videos....you MUST...it is cinematic genius)

 

2.  Mr. Mayhem is often annoyed by my ability to amuse myself.  Because of this....I feel like I must do it as much as humanly possible!  One day, while having a rousing conversation about male bathroom politics, I asked if he, "Shined his naked (nekked is the correct southern pronunciation) buns when he used the urinal?"  Just the fact that I uttered the word buns had me rolling.......but his indignant reply sent me over the edge.  It went something like,"If I saw a guy shining his ass in the bathroom, I would punch him in his mouth!"   I laughed until I cried on numerous occasions....even just remembering it!   GOOD TIMES!

 

3. I have a saying I use with The Princess (my soon to be 10 year old daughter), it goes, "Life is tough and then you die."  This is the best response to whiny cries of, "That's not fair," and other girlie nonsense.  Somedays I will transpose the saying into different genres of music.  It can run the gambit from opera to gangster rap.  You can only imagine how well received this is when she feels the world has wronged her!

 

4. I am a fourth grade teacher.  I actually refer to myself as the Queen in my classroom (can we say delusions of grandeur?).  I remind them constantly that, while America is a democracy and we are blessed to live in such a wonderful country, my classroom is a straight monarchy and they must adopt the mantra, "Don't question the Queen!"  It's actually a great way to establish that I run the show, while still using a bit of levity to make the point!   ( Oh....and yes....I DO believe that working with children has helped to foster my love of the immature!) 

 

5. Oh....and finally.....the best of the list.  Proof positive that I am perpetually stuck in fourth grade........while on vacation with a group of girlfriends, one of them bought a machine that makes a noise eerily similar to that of passing gas.  The sounds ranged from short and loud (this one made me laugh the most) to exceptionally long.   We then proceeded to use it on unsuspecting victims for the rest of the trip.  (Did I mention this was only a few years ago?)  The scene would go down something like this......we stumble across some people minding their own business, we go stand by them, I would utter something along the lines of,"OOOOH!  My stomach hurts SO bad....why did you let me eat all that food?"  Then my friend would push the button and we would die laughing watching their reactions.  Would it make me sound like a loser if I told you we rode the elevator up and down waiting for people to get on so we could torture them?  Yes?  Well.....then that NEVER happened! 

 

There you have it.  My confession typed for all of the world to see.  Blessed to spend the rest of my professional life molding the lives of the future leaders of our country AND yet, still acting like I am ten years old!  It's a tough job....but somebody's got to do it. 

 

Though Gunfighter and the Queen can't seem to agree on politics, they do both share a love of family!  Feel free to check out the day to day nonsense that occurs in the Deep South at www. millermayhem.com.

Little Red, Riding in The 'Hood

Little Red was in trouble, and she knew it.  She had no business being in that L.A. neighborhood, especially at that time of night, but she thought it would be the fastest way to get to her grandmother's house on the other side of town.

The first sign of trouble came when her car's engine started to sputter, and then abruptly quit working.  "Damn it..." she said aloud, as she rolled to a stop on a residential street. "...why me, why now, and Why HERE!"  She tried to call for assistance, but since Little Red was a major phone-talker, the battery on her cell phone was as dead as the engine of her sporty little convertible (which was red, of course).  She got out of the car, and knocked on the door of the first house she came to... she didn't realize that she was in really deep trouble until she say the sign on the door that said:  "The Bayer's".  "Screw it, she thought , "...I need to call a tow truck."  When no one answered her knock, she tried again.  When no one answered the door, she knocked one more time, really hard... and when she did that, the door opened slightly... apparently, it hadn't been closed properly.  Red pushed the door open and walked inside... thoughts of breaking and entering never crossing her trust-fund-baby mind.

Upon entering the dwelling, Red was surprised at how clean the house was.  "I never would have guessed the people who lived in this neighborhood would take care of their houses... I mean, rilly!" she said aloud.  She went into the living room and saw three Barcalounger chairs, one of which was too small for her to sit in,( which really irritated her, because Red was vain, and she was all about having a tiny supermodel-skinny, bony ass), the next chair was somewhat large, but the third chair... well that was the biggest and the most comfortable looking.  To her mind the biggest meant the best so she decided to plop herself down in the big chair.  As Red settled into the large chair, she thought: "that's hot!".  She used the telephone that sat on the table next to the big chair and called Triple A, who told her (of course) that it would be two to three hours before anyone could could be there to render assistance.  Red hoped that she would be able to sit tight where she was, because as tidy as this house was, she was sure that the rest of the neighborhood HAD to be a scary place, despite how quiet everything seemed to be.  Since Red wasn't really a deep thinker, she dozed off, immediately.

While Red dozed in the big, comfy chair, the three members of the Bayer family returned home... they had been at their church , helping with the restoration of the building that had been damaged by a severe storm some weeks earlier.  As they pulled up to the front of their house, they noticed that an unfamiliar car was parked out front.  The father Bayer figured that another traveler had broken down in the neighborhood, which happened fairly often. 

All three Bayer's collected their things and walked towards their house, with the littlest Bayer leading the way, soccer ball firmly clenched in her arms.  When little Bayer pushed the front door of their house open (they never locked their front door, she immediately saw little Red and said:  "Mommy, look! There is somebody in our house, and she is sleeping in daddy's chair!"  The mother Bayer said "Oh dear, she must be the driver of that car!  Go get a blanket and put it on her."  By this time, the father Bayer had put his tools away, and came into the living room.  When he saw little Red, he said top his wife: "hew honey, who's that sleeping in my chair?"  His wife of many years told him that she thought it was the driver of the broken down car.  Father Bayer shrugged and went out front with his gas can and poured a gallon into the tank of little Red's snazzy car.  He turned the key (which had been left in the ignition) and the engine immediately coughed to life.  Once that was accomplished, he went back into the house to wake up his sleeping visitor.

The father Bayer gently shook little Red's arm to wake her, which was probably a mistake, because when she opened her eyes, she screamed, for standing in front of her was a very large man with a shaved head... who was wearing a kilt.  "Whoa" said the large man, as Red frantically tried to get her bearings "take it easy... you're safe here.  You must have had some night with your car running out of gas like that"  Red looked at him with slightly bleary eyes and said "out of gas?... like, that's all it was?  How could I be out of gas?  I mean, like I have people who do that sort of thing... of course, I don't pump my own gas... have you ever seen the people that go to gas stations?"

Mr. Bayer put Red back in her car, gave her directions to her Granmother's house, and sent her on her way.  Her tires squealed as she turned the corner and drove out of sight.   

Red hadn’t even said thank you.   All he could do was shake his head.

Some Days You Just Have To....

...back away.

No, I don't mean from blogging... I'm addicted, but what I meant was that from time to time I have to stop talking about Domestic Violence, Pictures, dog rescue, Larry Craig, George Bush, and the myriad things that I talk about here.

Sometimes you have to stop talking about soccer, rugby, sex, racial and sexual bigotry in the church... and outside of it. Sometimes I want need do do what I am doing right now: Sometimes you just need to take a minute to get down with your bad self!

(and believe it, I am a bad MoFo!, just like Shaft!)

So! You know this song, get out of your chair, and shake your tail feather a little bit.

You'll be glad you did.

That goes for you, too!

Yeah, you... the repressed lady in the Midwest!

Sing it! "Uh! It's gettin' hot in here!"

Lighten up, Francis! I'll bet even the ordained clergy reading this are dancing!

C'mon... You people in Australia... do it upside down! You New Zealanders, you friggin' blew the Rugby World Cup (and got beaten by FRANCE????) you blokes NEED to dance... do the Haka or something. Crikey!

"Uh!"

You, too, Canucks... you know I love you, and there is probably 14 feet of snow in Saskatoon, but dance anyway! Do it like Jean Chretien (because you KNOW Stephen Harper can't dance!)

"I like when you uh!-uh! With a little bit of uh-uh!"

See you tomorrow!

GF