Veterans Day, 2008

In solemn rememberance of the fallen, in gratitude to those who have returned, and in unyielding support of our family still serving in Iraq, Afghanistan, and often forgotten operations in various theaters. We salute you.
My brother's girlfriend is currently stationed at Tikrit Air Base. She has a blog (which is listed in the blog roll on this page), but not a lot of access to updates. If anyone wishes to drop her a line to show how much her efforts are appreciated, link follows... http://jennysdeployment.blogspot.com/.
Thank you Ali. Thank you to all of your comrades in arms. May you all return home soon, with pride, honor, and accomplishment of your goals.
Operation Peace On You

On This Day

The following post digresses from my usual "cont-rol" of foul language. I normally try to make this page family friendly, but today is special. On this day, in the year of our Lord, 1775... A group of patriotic miscreants gathered in the halls of a beer garden, Tunn Tavern, to be exact ("Phillie".PA.) These brave men drank beer, and formed what would become the preeminent force of our future military presence.... The United States Marine Corps. Please join me in a toast to my brothers and sisters... past, present, and future. Happy Birthday, USMC.!
Mrs. America, and I will dine on the traditional meal, "surf and turf" (and beer). In an homage to the Amphibious nature of my "kin", I will eat, drink heavily, and salute Chesty Puller. Thank you for your solemn respect during this stage of necessary drunkenness! OOOH-Fucking-Rah!
Semper fi, The Cap.

Weekly Update: 5 Nov. O8

Election day morning. I awake to gloomy skies and a slight nip in the air, despite the prognostication of "mostly sunny, and warm, a beautiful election day" by the local weather gurus. Cup of coffee in hand, Mrs. America and I venture to our polling station. Happy to say, no problems at our precinct, while we were there. The line crept, but steadily. We could have avoided the line all together by voting with an absentee ballot. But there's something about actually "pulling the lever" ON election day, that seems to enhance the feeling of civic duty; expression, and celebration of our freedoms that are anything but "free".
I reflect on the images from Afghanistan and Iraq of broadly grinning, first time voters emerging from their polls, holding up one ink stained finger as they head through the parking lot, back to their donkey carts for their miles long journey to their mud huts in some unspecific region of the vast deserts and mountains. Partly borne of pride, partly borne of a newly instilled sense of freedom, and with a barely noticeable sense of defiance. A glimmer somewhere in their eyes that says... "I have tasted democracy, and I will not relinquish it".
My finger is not purple, but I do receive the much coveted "I voted" sticker, and that same succulent aftertaste that lingers on your tongue after savoring a hot, juicy, steaming serving of liberty.
On this day, however, my serving of liberty would be slightly over-cooked. A little on the dry side.
The chilly, overcast atmosphere would remain throughout the day, and into the next. With the results from this election now evident, I wonder if we will see the sun again any time soon. Stories that I have heard regaled by former citizens of East Germany, and Poland (under communist rule) edge into the periphery of my mind. Their weather was always bleak. A pall cast over their entire climate (politically, socially, and environmentally), as a constant reminder of their oppression.
To dwell on my "loss" is an exercise in futility. I have bitched and moaned enough. I know that the only choice I have is to "suck it up" and forge ahead. It is for this reason that we return to Camp Edgewater. The core of our element is not at it's motivational apex, but we fight on.
As expected, the hippies gloat. That's O.K., though, they will soon learn the meaning of the term "buyers remorse". The peace creeps slightly outnumbered us this day. Most of their new supporters immediately chime in with nothing but insults, and poorly crafted ones at that. I actually enjoyed the tete-a-tete with the upside down flag waving, nescient, (expletive deleted) who decided to stand directly across the street from me, and dip his toe into the waters of "your Mamma" jokes. O.K., bud... here we go! I do so enjoy low brow battles of "wits". Thanks for cheering me up with your blatant ignorance and (albeit, childishly, enjoyable) confrontation. After he makes an unsolicited comment regarding Dick Cheney, I offered to take my new rival on a hunting trip with me and "Uncle Dick". He (less than politely) turned down the invitation. It was a bit of a chuckle when this particular agitator started attempting to use some of the jokes that I had already used on him. Is this a "redistribution of comedy? His jokes are not as funny as mine, so he should get to use some of my jokes against me? Well, in insults, and in comedy, the first one with the "zinger" wins. Unless, of course, your competitor develops a better product, and can out market you. It's a lesson in capitalism, using wit as currency. This particular hippie was "currency deprived" (just embracing the new PC world in which we celebrate).
On the surface, it would seem that it was a bad day for our unit. But we chose to stand our ground, and for that, we were rewarded. Our friend Theo has returned. I referred to him in last weeks update as "The Guy". I did this out of respect for his concern about being ostracized by his co-workers, who also travel the same route, and would surely see him supporting our side. Theo, however has concluded that he wants to stand up for what he believes in, and will not succumb to pressures from those who oppose him. He cites us as inspiration, but I must reciprocate. There have been brief moments in OPOY history, that I have become tired. I have never doubted our ability to wage this war on hippies, and I have never given contemplation to failure... just, occaisionally, tired. Every time that this feeling surfaced, so did an event to renew my vigor. Theo was the event this week, in the aftermath of the election. A fresh mind with fresh ideas, and his strong desire to act, have replaced my thoughts of the decision of the people, with new purpose.
Our mission was never about politics. Our mission has always been to support our troops with a display of actual support, and to counter the protests of our military, it's mission, our national symbols, and yes, even our way of life as we know it.

"Constant complaint is the poorest sort of pay for all the comforts we enjoy" - Benjamin Franklin

For all the comforts we enjoy ,due (solely) to the efforts, accomplishments, and miseries of our military, past and present, we will not complain. We will stand tall, man our lines, and continue to confront the complainers. I will not remove the "O" from my keyboard. I will not cede to the attitude that Americans cannot be successful without government assistance (case in point: B.O., [peace be upon him] himself). I will, however continue the battle at Camp Edgewater. I just wonder how long it will be before the peace creeps change their signs to "Obama lied... you know the rest."

Weekly Update: 29 Oct 08

Fresh from the "Moving Wall" escort (see the story here), a sense of pride swelling within us, Face Man and I prepare for the weekly fire fight at Camp Edgewater. The deuces roll out from HQ, and we're on our way. As I drive towards the event, I feel my anticipation grow. I cannot wait to show the McCain camp some love, and the hippies some disdain, by laying on the mighty horn of the deuce as we pass the lineup. To add insult to injury, the appearance of two deuces should really peeve the hippies, see the history of this battle on the 15 Oct update on our main page.

The stars are aligned in our direction. A group of "McCainiacs" is already firmly entrenched across the street from the hippies. As I suspected, there are some new members in the hippie camp... Obama supporters. Face and I round the corner. I release a war cry... "No B.O.!" The long blast of the deuce's air horn results in some funny episodes. The McCain camp recognizes me, and cheers us. The usual crowd of hippies cap their ears. The newcomers to the peace creep movement are unaware of our ongoing battle, and unaware of who I actually am. Some of them cheer (again... people in Florida are easily confused, especially the hippies). The newcomers think that we are honking for them, because of their "honk for peace" signs. After I don "the suit" and present my "honk if you smell better than a hippie" sign, they will soon realize their mistake.

As we pull into the parking lot of Camp Edgewater, we see Tom, American flag, and "America: humanities' best hope" sign in hand. Tom heard the puissant call of the deuce, and knew that we had arrived.

Dug in to our position, we await the impending incoming fire. I think back to the original article in the Times that mentioned the fact that the hippies used to gather further north, on U.S. 19., but had abandoned that post because people were throwing things at them, not excluded were bottles and rotten fruit. They thought that they could find safe haven in the confines of Dunedin (a supposedly more "tolerant" environment). Perhaps they were better off in their days of yore. Heh heh, sometimes I crack myself up! I love what we do!

Soon after our deployment, a "code pinko" moved to outflank us. The sign she is holding declares "war sucks McCain swallows" (Boy, that's clever) Her affront is well documented here, note the school bus full of children immediately behind her. These venomous purveyors of hate do not appreciate the sanctities of childhood and innocence. Do our children really need to be subject to this smut? As much as we would like to, (I am, however, guilty of this on occasion) we try to avoid using off color metaphors. But none of our signs are verbally offensive to children, or their parents. Unless,of course, their parents are pacifistic parasites of freedom who defame our nation's military, and the just war on radical Muslim extremists, that we are currently involved in, and impart these sentiments to their offspring.

As has become common, a few members of the McCain camp join us on our side of the street. One member is Mandy, whose husband has just returned from serving in Iraq. She stands next to the "code pinko" with her McCain sign, only to be assailed with verbiage from the "peace" activist... "B!^&#" is the least of the acrimonious terms she must endure. She approaches my fighting hole, scans through the signs that I have available for unprepared, yet enthusiastic, enlistees. She chooses the " Honk if you smell better than a hippie" sign. I delight in the fact that, throughout the course of the event, she repeatedly expresses her adoration for this sign. Later in the day, her husband drove past. Mandy was so enthusiastic. I revel in her pride for her husband, as this is why we do what we do. Support our troops. I hope that I get a chance to meet him and personally thank him some day. Both of you are more than welcome to join us in our weekly battle against the hippies.

Around this time, Mrs. America and Mel confront "Bong water". He has joined the "code pinko" on our flank. However we know from past experience that this man is weak, and is frightened by strong women (see 22 Oct update here) The McCain sign is placed at his feet by our sappers, and the effort is successful, he moves on.
Joe (from the McCain camp) clues me into a surprise guest. There is a woman who has bedecked her RV with pro McCain /Palin signage, and travels the I-4 corridor touting her support, and encouraging others to support, the presidential candidate. I had heard her on the "Glenn Beck" radio show, just this morning. She nestles her larger than life display directly across the street from the hippies, and joins in the fray.

The afternoon was punctuated by the appearance of "The Guy". He has been a regular supporter as he passes by in traffic, ever since the inception of our unit. The Guy joins us, and informs us that he cannot unite with us on a weekly basis, as he is employed by liberal fascists, and fears losing his job. This is a sad state of affairs, but one that we must fight by defeating the communist proposals of the Democrat candidate for this election. Welcome, friend. Glad you could finally gather with us.

The shadows from the trees have grown longer, engulfing us in the now darkened, and chilly environs. It is time to wrap up today's fire fight, and return to our respective CP's (command posts). The glares and gestures from the peace creeps who are loading their tripe ridden propaganda pieces into the tiny trunks of their prius' and VW's, signify another victory for our ever vigilant coalition.

The McCainiacs have been a tireless and stalwart fixture in the recent weeks running up to the election. They have decided to deploy to Camp Edgewater every afternoon at the same time, until election day. I must return to the job site in Kissimmee, but as soon as I return, I will impart my solidarity with our new friends, by joining their campaign. I hope that, after the election, these proud patriots will return to assist us in the ongoing efforts of Operation Peace On You.