I Went Wandering...

"Bob, Where did you go?" Is a statement that had been popping up in Email, Texts and on the My Space Page since my disappearance in November...

In the beginning of November my free USAA calendar was hung above the garbage in the kitchen. My plan to ward off the inevitable passage of time (with the odor of refuse that builds up in the over flowing kitchen waste can of a single man’s life) was failing miserably as the calendar remained opened to the month of April (It felt like it should have been April… Okay More Trash! That should slow it…). I peeled the calendar from the wall and separated the pages slowly investigating any missed appointments or events… Who was I kidding… I hadn’t used a printed calendar since the free Blockbuster Calendar back 1996. On this day I wanted to stay far away from my Gmail Calendar because earlier that day I had a terrible battle with SkyNet at work… I didn’t want to touch the SkyNet adversary located in the study area of the Condo... Planning out my November on a paper calendar was the only way to plan for Mike and Sharon's visit in the beginning of December… Looking upon a paper calendar provided my eyes with a euphoric Visine sensation after the Computer Monitors at work had left me with a hot Tabasco sting from the work day. The calendar provided me a map that I could navigate my life with.

I looked at the refrigerator where the Basham wedding invitation resided… I was to depart VA on the 9th and return on the 18th. I had strong anticipation for the Basham wedding. Thoughts of being face to face with old friends that had been absent from life for the past six years, a lack of US currency for the trip (I chuckled as I looked at the Kuwait Dinar, Mexico’s Peso, Ukrainian and Romanian currency on the fridge that had collected from my travels couldn’t help me get to Florida), and time away from work collided together… For a second I thought “Chris would understand if I didn’t make it. I need to continue to save money and pay off my debt…”. A decision had to be made. Turn to Page 23 if you decide to stay at home and save money. Turn to Page 1117 if you decide to begin the most fulfilling adventure of your life… I chose page 1117. The direction toward my destiny was forged and I haven't slowed down since.

With this post I expect all rumors to cease, and full statement of retractions from those of you that started all rumors associated with my absence. Since my disappearance my life has changed dramatically... But now isn't the time to put words on the page. I shall return My Dear Sharon (Sharon is my only Blog Reader), with nectar littered words that will be woven together to form the story of my absence and cover the events that lead the serenity of my heart, soul, and mind...

White Washed Terrorism

Two days ago, I was mindlessly perusing the poor selections of DVD's strategically place by the registers in the CGES, patiently waiting to purchase an over priced turkey wrap that was delivered "fresh" that morning from the Base's WheelHouse. (I don't make it a habit to eat at the CGES or WheelHouse because of the high jacking prices. I do make exceptions when the demands of the work schedule deem it necessary to save precious minutes of the work day.) My attention was diverted while debating the cost of purchasing "Blades of Glory" for $19.98 from the CGES, or the time/gas/DVD cost of purchasing "Blades of Glory" from Target. I over heard Two kids, still suffering the remnants of puberty in the form of sporadic facial blemishes, dressed in sweat soaked physical fitness gear, stout in stature with cropped hair and a muscular physique normally found in the newly graduated, militant sculpted "boots", conversing of upcoming holiday leave, travel and the TSA lines in the Airports. The common sound bytes of this conversation were exchanged between the two, until one of them stated something along the lines of "Our Military ID should get us passed security gates / We shouldn't have to be searched because we are in the Military" IE bring back racial profiling... Blades of Glory didn't seem so interesting any more...

What events that have occurred in my 30 years of memories and how have they effected my socialism or thought process. In 1986 my entire junior high school was gathered in the auditorium as most of us experienced our first live loss of life as the First School Teacher in Space passed away in the Space Shuttle Challenger Disaster. My memory renders about three years of silence broken by the Battle of the Bay Earth Quake 1989. President Bush "41" addressed the nation after the first strikes of Desert Storm in 1991 forcing me to ask my first infatuation, Michelle Scott, to accompany me to the movies and become my first girlfriend before the "Mother of All Wars" changed the United States way of life. In 1992 the vigilante residing in side me reared his head and asked dad if we could load our hand guns and riffles into the Old Chevy and head to Los Angeles to provide support to the struggling law enforcers during the LA Riots. On Nov 22 1997 I experienced the first death of a musical icon that I admired, Michael Hutchence. He was found hanging by a belt in his Sydney Hotel ruled, but still questioned, as suicide. The images of WTC Towers collapsing in 2001 out shadowed all of the examples above (no links or images needed).

Each of these events have a common thread that associates them very closely. It’s the pain that arrives with loss. In all of life's endings we search for closure, reasoning, understanding and mostly comfort. It's a process, but before the peace of closure is found, blame has been issued out on an epic scale much like the multitudes of credit card applications that flow through the US postal service on a weekly basis. In all the instances above we could blame God... But that doesn't do much for those that do not believe in an existence of a higher power or those that hold strong in God's understanding. We could blame people, but that includes you and me. We weren't responsible for any of that right? Let's narrow it down a little more... We could blame engineer's for failing bridges and shuttles. Structures weaken over time and bridge giving 32 years of service, enduring the sea spray and bay winds that would even wear down Davy Jones, is pretty good... We will never board a Space Shuttle, so that confronts us little. Maybe someone did kill Hutchence, but we rationalize by thinking "Crazy fan or rival... I don't have any of those... Well there is that guy at work" Now there is a little room for prejudice toward race or culture. Large groups of people that we have no association with are blamed. "Black people" started the riots in LA and "all the Middle Easterners" continue to fuel the wars of the world with the "Jihad" raised against western civilization.

How can people become so blind? Groups are comprised of individuals. One individual associating with another individual that has similarities in culture, race, beliefs, etc. initiates the grouping. Why can't people see that the core foundation of any group is the individual? The LA Riots were sparked by the anger and tension that was built up and released in the form of looting and arson by individuals. The individuals that participated in the riots did have something in common. They were pissed off... Then once riots broke out other individuals with out regard for common decency, respect, or the welfare of others jumped on the band wagon. It wasn't a "Black Thing"... It was an Individual thing. Individuals with these tendencies are found in all groups regardless of race or religion.

For over half a decade now, almost every “Terror Alert” that has been issued by The United States Department of Homeland Security has been accompanied by pictures of Middle Eastern men with dark skin, long frayed salt and pepper beards, and turbans on top of their heads. These pictures have been burned into our television screens and our minds as the United States actively engages terrorist cells that threaten the American way of living. Contemporary America has recently designated the term “Racial Profiling” for men and women of Middle Eastern decent. Watch the suspicions of travelers rise when person of Middle Eastern decent boards a crowded airplane. Since September 11, 2001, Middle Easterners have become the whipping culture for any terrorist attacks or activities that occur. Have the citizens of the United States forgotten that Middle Easterners are not the only terrorists that have harmed our country? American Citizens need to remain vigilant and look past racial profiling. White male Americans have been known to create or participate in terrorist activities against the United States of America.

A white American terrorist was born May 22, 1942 in Chicago Illinois. This white terrorist graduated from Harvard, continued his education, and earned a PhD in Mathematics from the University of Michigan. In May 1978 his first act of terror was executed in the form of a crude amateurish bomb that missed its mark. Over the course of the next 18 years this American terrorist would refine his tactics, sophisticate his bombs, and eventually become a murderer. On April 3, 1996 Ted Kaczynski was arrested in Colorado, the thirty eighth state of the fifty United States of America. Kaczynski’s terror attacks claimed the lives of three Americans and wounded another twenty eight. Ted Kaczynski was better known as the Unabomber.

On April 19th 1995 an Oklahoma City a federal office building becomes the grounds of the second largest terrorist attack inside of US boarders. More than 160 people died, 800 people were wounded, and over 200 buildings were damaged when a rented moving truck, packed with more than 4000 pounds of ammonium nitrate and nitro-methane, exploded while parked outside of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building. Minutes after the explosion, sketches of Middle Eastern men were broadcast throughout international news, and several terrorist groups were targeted. Three white males were convicted for the Oklahoma City Bombing. The white terrorist planned the bombing was born in New York State and grew up regularly attending Catholic services. Later in his life he served the United States of America under the Department of the Army. During his Army career he attended a leadership classes, became an accomplished 25mm gunner, was seen as an ideal solider, awarded the bronze star during his tour of duty in Desert Storm, and attempted to become a Green Beret. This “All American” terrorist was Timothy McViegh.

More recently, Suleyman al-Faris was captured in Northern Afghanistan on November 25, 2001 and held in Mazar-e Sharif. On November 25, 2001 Suleyman al-Faris and hundreds of other captives started an uprising in the Mazar-e Sharif compound. That up rising claimed the first American that was killed in combat after the invasion of Afghanistan. After seven days, the Northern Alliance was able to regain control over the uprising. Suleyman al-Faris was later identified by military medical personnel as an American citizen. Suleyman al-Faris has returned home to California, now in Victorville prison, and prefers to be called Hamza Walker Lindh. Commonly referred to as “The American Taliban”, John Phillip Walker Lindh was born on February 9th, 1981 in Washington DC and moved to California at the age of 10. As a teenager, this white male American, converted to Islam and began his travels to the Middle East. In the spring of 2001 John Walker Lindh entered into Afghanistan where he was recruited by an Islamic militant group based in Pakistan called, “Harakat ul-Mujahideen” ("HUM"). Walker began his terrorist career training with HUM, and ended his terrorist career fighting along side the Taliban in Afghanistan. Paragraph 3 of the “UNITED STATES OF AMERICA v. JOHN PHILIP WALKER LINDH, a/k/a “Suleyman al-Faris,” a/k/a “Abdul Hamid,” affidavit charges Walker with the following: “ (1) engaging in a conspiracy, while outside the United States, to kill nationals of the United States outside of the United States, namely, United States nationals engaged in the ongoing conflict in Afghanistan, in violation of Title 18, United States Code, Section 2332(b); (2) providing, attempting to provide, and conspiring to provide material support and resources to designated foreign terrorist organizations, namely, al-Qaeda and Harakat ul-Mujahideen ("HUM"), in violation of Title 18, United States Code, Sections 2339B and 2; and (3) engaging in prohibited transactions with the Taliban, in violation of Title 31, Code of Federal Regulations, Sections 545.201 and 545.204, Executive Order # 13129, Title 50, United States Code, Sections 1702 and 1705, and Title 18, United States Code, Section 2.”. John Walker Lindh, “The American Taliban”, was born a white male American, spent the majority of his life growing up in American cities, and is fluent in the English language.

White male Americans have played major roles in the history of terrorism in the United States of America. Until the terror attacks of September 11, 2001, white male American’s were responsible for the largest terrorist attack inside the United States boarders. America will remain vulnerable if the Americans remain distracted focusing all “terror alert” attention on Middle Easterners. As a society, Americans should be thankful that racial profiling is not practiced at security check points. A white American male terrorist would be quick to emerge if white male Americans were able to bypass random car searches or airport security screenings. The next time I have to endure a full security screening at an airport I will find comfort. Our civil servants did not let the Middle Eastern looking man freely pass through the check point to be politically correct, but they search me to protect America from the next white male American terrorist.

Thank God an ID or the race of an individual will not allow "Security Check Point Exempt" status. It stops the Kaczynski's, McVeigh's, and Lindh's from endangering other individuals.

Life Just Might be a Box Of Wine

Life can been extremely complex... I wish it was like a constant complex bold full bodied wine, always warming and cheering, but we aren't always that lucky... When your wine turns to vinegar, make an appointment with the kitchen sink to drain the decanter of its foul contents, and start the harvest process over again... The turned out wine may last a short time, but the long arduous process of the harvest can sometimes bring the best memories."

Come See John Hoffler

For those of you out there living in the Norfolk Area and looking to wind down the work week in a relax atmosphere, John Hoffler will be performing acoustic sets at Kincaid's of Norfolk Thursday nights from 7:45pm - Until.


A good friend of mine and an extremely diverse multi-talented musician, John has always been an entertainment favorite among those who have set before his jam sessions. Kincaid's shares space in the MacArthur Center Mall Across from the Norva on Monticello Ave in the heart of Norfolk. The hustle and bustle of mall patrons and the pressures of the work week fall behind upon entering as the doors close behind. Kincaid's provides a mix drink list that will intoxicate a guest upon perusing, a wine enthusiast (that's me) approved wine list (glass or bottle), an appetizer menu that will fulfill any craving, and a diner menu that will not leave you disappointed. So if you are at home in your bunny slippers thinking about the drive thru, need to hit the mall for last minute Halloween Apparel, or retiring from work, head down to Kincaid's before or during the show. A memorable dinning experience awaits with John behind the guitar.

Life's Inoculation

Recently it has occurred to me with a grave reverence that- "I don't know who I am, where I am, or where I am going..." My brain is hemorrhaging from the onslaught of it's own continued self enclosed battles. A cold war within started several years ago as I forged a head in the first of my life's traumatizing decisions.

Most people endeavor to force regret out of their vocabulary or being. Those who state that they live a life with out regret either: 1. Focus on all the beneficial or positive events or consequences that came of anemic decisions (this mind conditioning is a gift in it's self). 2. Find it easy to shift from one state of being to the next, blocking the conscious mind and continuing a path of poor choices. 3. Choose to never admit regret for fear of weakening a posture that has been sculpted to prevent life's on lookers from identifying vulnerabilities.

Lately I find myself enduring left over pain from "regretted" decisions that have left life's scars residing below the callouses of the heart. I'm starting to feel as if the callouses have become titanium plated and their consistencies through out my being will render me a Colossus toward emotion. I'm almost certain that this wave of stale air is one of life's tribulations, another building block to prepare me for what is to come, or the swift tail kicking climax adventure that is found in all coming of age tales. The tales that seem to continually resonate through out history incarnating in another form or another life. Does life ever truly prepare us for what is to come? I believe that we can only strive to find comfort in change...

My mind constantly ponders... "Why do I feel as though I have the right to allow myself to feel as though the quick sand of life is swallowing me when every thing in life is decently well?" The Democrats have not yet invaded the White House and cut my salary. I own the "John McClain" of the 1990 22RE Toyota Pick Up Trucks. He sips petroleum and continuously conquers the constant asphalt assaults of wear and tear. And most of all, I have not found it necessary to adapt my lust for culinary gratification into a mundane routine of "Top Ramon".

Has life been too good to me? Can I no longer savor the sweet due to a lacking subscription of a healthy portion of bitter? Has the memories of life's sampled Rich Raspberry truffle Jazz Cakes, the delectable Chocolate Truffle Marquises, the divine Tiramisus, and the highly pleasurable Amaretto Cheesecakes removed the sweet comforting flavor of the two sugars in life's daily coffee? I swash the monotonous coffee throughout my mouth rolling it over my tongue in an attempt to awaken thought to be dead taste buds, but I no longer find the flavor saccharine, cain or bleached sugars that comforted through the previous good and bad. I still search for it daily, but I just can't taste it any more...

I absolutely loathe the hypocrisy in waiting for life's mediocrity to pass... "I can't wait to start enjoying life". Before you know it 10 years have passed, and the true moments of content satisfaction last but mere seconds in comparison. (Now this is a euphoric quarter breath of pure oxygen... Damn... Not even an entire fluid breath and my lungs have collapsed)- That's how it feels after the all to short reunions with friend's and family. I'm headed for the gravel that leads me to The Village...

Beginnings

A Couple Definitions of "Beginning"

1. To proceed to perform the first or earliest part of some action or commence



2. To come into existence, arise, originate



3. To proceed to perform the earliest part of (an action



4. To Originate; be the originator of

Almost each of us (that read this blog) have or will experience several thousands of intersecting events in life that will create a beginning... I may not know it at the time, but what I may consider "the most trivial of thought or action" can change the heading of my life and inadvertently cause a negative or positive reaction in the lives of others . Those changes that occur or the lives impacted all came about due to a beginning . Was it my birth? Was it making the right turn (to return home) instead of a left? Was it something I said? It's the "Butterfly Effect" -

Beginnings appear as the start of a venture to the unknown, but we are always full of expectation. One footstep is the start of a long journey. Some journeys seem endless filled with satisfaction or joy. Some of the journeys are too short lived. Everyone has been filled with the pain of beginnings that have ended in frustrations or disappointments... No matter the ending; each beginning sculpts and molds our lives and souls as we live through each passing moment. Every second that we breathe in or the heart contracts we open our distance between the beginnings and come closer to an ending. Unfortunately at the end of this "Choose Your Own Adventure", you do not have the simple pleasure of flipping back to the beginning and choosing to turn to page 23 "If you continue to live in Auburn", instead of turning to page 52 "If you choose to join the Military".

This is the beginning of Swace's Swerve - Hopefully it isn't one of those beginnings that end in disappointment or the considerable loss of the good image that a few of you hold of me. Who am I kidding... Just spending an afternoon with me can do that... The web doesn't hold that much power or influence. Right?

- Let's not have too much expectation, and no one will get hurt