Steve...

Great Falls Park, VA

2012-02-04T21:47:00.000Z

The sort of satisfaction that I experienced this morning standing in Great Falls Park, overlooking this amazing watershed, awash in the gentle but overwhelming sound of its rush, was a sense that I had not felt in a very long time.

Tremendous personal pride married this spectacular natural setting to create one special moment.

I had arrived at the park in a vehicle purchased, in a practical sense, by money, but more poignantly, by fiscal discipline, and a matured characteristic of responsibility.

I carried on my back a large load that was easy to shoulder because I had trained diligently.

Everything sort of came together for this moment; I like where my life has been. I love where it is going.

The Falls...

Leading to the gorge...

And an alternate means of exploring...

Then I went off the trail...

Eventually returning to the canal...

...which led to a dam, and its own peaceful waterfall...

Finally, some wildlife...

Unfortunately, the load was more than old Alice could bear...

But, there's plenty left to explore...

My New Car...

2012-01-29T16:59:00.000Z

Since moving to Washington, D.C., I have been without a vehicle, and was a frequent car renter.

That changed this weekend. I bought my own car... well, actually, I assumed responsibility for a loan, and in turn, received this car:

A 2012 Honda Fit.

When I left my house on Saturday morning, I thought I was in the market for Kia Souls, with some passing interest in Fits. And then I drove this model, and immediately dug its feel.

Its ease on gas, utilitarian nature, cargo capacity, and the very fact that its price fit my budget, all appealed to me.

Kuwait, 2002

2012-01-21T17:14:00.000Z

Most of my friends and family are likely unaware of how intensely true this statement is to me:

I miss these dudes...

Veteran Prejudice

2012-01-11T16:24:00.000Z

A slightly-past middle-aged gentleman sits adjacent to me at my place of work.

My understanding is that his civilian career prior to becoming a government employee was spent in the commercial airline industry.

I would describe this individual’s disposition as gregarious and confident. By all I can determine, he aims to be a friendly guy.

I noticed the other day that I had a peculiar and somewhat personally bothersome reaction to this co-worker’s attitude. I was unreasonably annoyed that this man was so clearly proud of his career’s accomplishments despite having never served in the military.

In other words, at some point unbeknownst to me, I had determined that military service had become a prerequisite for one to earn my respect; whether they wanted it or not being totally inconsequential.

This, no doubt, reflects upon my greater cynicism. But I never realized, prior to the occurrence of this passing assessment, that I had so quickly (and at such a young age) became “that guy” so easily aggravated by others’ service to country, or lack thereof.

My irrational method of judging others, and the fact that I do so at all, is not something of which I am proud. I guess I reserve hope that by sharing, it may serve as a means to eliminate it.

At the very least, I may discover that I am not alone in unfortunately bearing prejudice based on others' status as veterans…

A Message Unsent...

2011-12-26T22:50:00.000Z

What follows, basically, is a message that I had developed in my mind with the purpose of sending to long lost family and friends.

However, now having written it, I am discovering that – while I have no hesitancy publishing it here – I am finding it much more difficult to press “send,” on the message in email.

For some reason unclear to me, I am unable to allow myself to direct it to the inboxes for which it was intended.

So it may remain a message, unsent...

Season's greetings.

Prior to my many instances of relocating, I had insisted to most of you that I would eventually “fall off the face of the earth,” and I think I have successfully done that since my most recent move.

However, the truth is that each of you receiving this email is in my thoughts daily and I miss all of you more than I allow most people to know.

In any case, 2011 has been wildly successful for me and I wanted now to share that happiness with you and hope for you much of the same.

I wish I could truthfully share with you that since you previously saw me I have me living a life of intrigue, toppling tyrants and disposing despots. In reality, I have been, instead, chasing money, lifting weights, listening to a lot of techno, and collecting long-sleeve polos. In short, I've grown up to become a SigEp. It's kind of disgusting, really.

I continue to work for the Federal Aviation Administration in D.C. and serve in the National Guard. Regarding the latter, I should be attending an upcoming military school that I am very excited about, potentially in March.

I would love to hear from you. And, in case you have forgotten, the ugly dude mugging in the attached photo, accompanied by the beautiful woman, is, in fact, me – only a day younger than the moment I am sending this email.

I really miss you guys and hope your Holidays are enjoyable.

For Ron Paul, January 3rd Needs to be a Celebration...

2011-12-21T17:05:00.000Z

Ron Paul can win the Iowa caucuses, and based on recent polling, he just might.

However, Congressman Paul’s most enthusiastic support comes from my generation and younger.

The Iowa caucuses are scheduled to occur on Tuesday, January the third which, no doubt, will be cold and, weather-wise at least, dreary. Not the preferred environment in which to motivate young adults to do… well, much of anything. Let alone something as mundane as casting ballots.

Worse (for Paul and his supporters at least), many Iowa universities will be on break during the date of the caucuses. A common place to round up potential Paul supporters, college campuses, will serve no effectiveness in this case.

And given that students are on “break,” who knows the sorts of activities they may have planned that may prevent them from attending the caucuses.

The Paul campaign needs to quickly begin marketing January 3rd as a special date for young adults in Iowa. Dress the caucuses up as a “must-attend event.”

For Congressman Paul to successfully win in Iowa, it is not sufficient that he has supporters; he needs the caucuses, themselves, to be something that seem worth attending for a fickle audience.

The caucuses should be more party and less duty.

If I know anything about my generation, it’s that the only thing that exceeds our collective idealism is our collective laziness.

However, laziness may be overcome if the caucuses are perceived as the place not only to be at, but to be seen at.

I don't think I am supposed to “get it”

2011-11-06T03:32:00.000Z

I don't think I am supposed to “get it.”

I clearly shouldn't understand.

If anything, I should find the causes supported by those “Occupying” various cities repugnant.

After all, I am a combat veteran, a young man grinding against the grain, trying to etch out my own little piece of success. And, by nearly any measure, I am much more conservative by nature than peers within my generation.

I am creating my own future.

I am working hard, “making it on my own,” - doing what's right. Living the American way.

But here's the thing...

I do get it.

I, too, am frustrated.

I am not blind to the reality that my hard work is being rewarded with promotions of responsibility, but not increased grade or pay.

Despite ever so diligently toeing the line of conformity, I am discovering the opportunities to create opportunity harder and harder to come by.

Luxuries evade me, but they are not what I seek. I simply pursue a modestly better life.

I want an apartment of my own.

Perhaps, a dog.

Moderate travel.

I want to experience to the fullest the one life I've been granted.

I want a world where one's enjoyment of it isn't dependent on the accumulation of something as illusory as “money.”

So, yeah, I get it.

But, sadly, unlike the “Occupiers,” I will not rally. I will continue to grind.

And hope not to turn to dust...

PTSD vs Shell Shock

2011-10-30T18:30:00.000Z

I was recently introduced to the work of Dr. Stephen Joseph, a psychologist specializing in growth produced by post traumatic stress. His blog is HERE, his most recent book available HERE.

I commented on a blog entry of Dr. Joseph's. I want to share that comment here, and invite response from any readers that may stumble upon it:

Dr. Joseph:

As a young veteran of the Iraq war who habitually performs introspection, I am interested in learning more of your studies.

My current positive mindset, I believe, is an example of the beneficial effect that post traumatic psychology may produce; an idea that, as I understand, you share.

This particular entry of your blog provoked an inquiry.

I would be interested in reading your take on the psychological differences between post traumatic stress, as it is now understood, and “shell shock,” a term much less currently in vogue, but a phenomenon I believe persists and is wholly different, and more acute, than post traumatic stress.

I will say, as concisely as possible, that I experienced an abrupt, highly jarring event during my first tour of combat in Iraq that caused me there after, for a couple of years, to react bracingly to the sound of low-flying aircraft. This reaction, to me, was “shell shock.”

During my second tour, I was exposed to prolonged combat, a constant sense of hopelessness, and an environment characterized by above average friendly casualties. Although I failed to admit to its occurrence initially, my reaction upon return from this tour was (and, perhaps, continues to be) something I consider more akin to post traumatic stress. For a few years, for example, I dove fairly heavily into alcohol consumption. Methods less detrimental to my health, such as writing and reading, have replaced alcohol presently. However, the cause for all of these activities is the same – a desire for mental escape, which I relate to a prolonged state of reaction to my probable post traumatic stress.

I would be interested in your take on the psychological differences among the types of post traumatic growth, especially in regards to PTSD vs. "shell shock," as described above. I appreciate your time and thoughts.

Thank you.

My Favorite Painting

2011-10-26T21:07:00.000+01:00

I don't know much about art.

Other than I like it.

While I did not take the particular photograph below, I have had the opportunity to experience this wonderful painting, in person, on display at the Corcoran Gallery ofArt, here in Washington, D.C.

"Niagara", oil on canvas, by Frederic Edwin Church, 1857

My favorite artist is El Greco. However, my favorite subject of artwork is landscape.

When I look at the waterfalls pictured above, I sense something greater than beauty.

I feel as if there is something so powerful about nature that I have difficulty describing its majesty in words.

However, that ability doesn't evade the artist.

That wonderful sensation is captured in paint.

And the painting connects its admirers and its artist in a satisfying shared sense of awe.

Digital Scratchings

2011-10-23T23:24:00.001+01:00

I write these blogs for a reason.

You see, I truly believe I have a perspective that is unique, but not so unique that it is unshared by others.

Those others, however, are few.

Should I have had the opportunity to converse, it seems to me that I would have discovered much common ground with James Joyce, or, say, Jim Morrison.

I think that Joe Rogan and the visitors that he has to his podcast share much of my mentality.

I have self-awareness on philosophical and psychological levels with acuteness that I am convinced evades others.

As such, I am very much in recognition that my entire life is a struggle for validation – not from you, but from me.

I judge the whole of my experiences and my contributions and, often times, I am disappointed. There is a vast world out there. People are unlocking the deepest secrets hidden in science, and others are freeing their minds to explore the farthest reaches of human perception.

There are people traveling to space while I struggle with the means to even temporarily escape D.C.

So.

I write for a reason; a reason that, at its essence, is truly a hope.

Hope that my digital scratchings are stumbled upon by those that recognize not so much a unique perspective but one that they share.

Teetering on the Edge

2011-10-23T03:57:00.000+01:00

I received a certified letter this afternoon and my reaction to its contents indicated to me just how close I am to teetering off the wagon of sobriety.

The letter was from the Army and it expressed its intent to deny my security clearance application due to negative credit history.

Fortunately, this letter relied on data from a 2010 credit report and I have, since then, cleared all delinquency that I acquired during a much more irresponsible period of my life; namely, while I was a freshman in college.

But to think that the one goal that I have sacrificed so greatly in pursuing during the past two years – to become a member of the Army's Special Forces – could so easily be taken from me, led me to contemplate what I would do had I no longer had that purpose to strive toward.

Without that inspiration, I would have to believe that I would invite alcohol back in to my life.

Sadly, the factor most likely to keep me from drinking, should the pursuit of Special Forces qualification ever be taken from me, would be my own vanity. Abstinence from alcohol (along with a disciplined diet and plenty of hard work) has allowed me to obtain the physical condition that I have always desired.

The compliments I occasionally receive almost outweigh any satisfaction that alcohol may deliver.

But the fact is, while I rarely long to again drink with friends, there is an aspect of alcohol that I often crave.

I truly miss, at times, the greater enjoyment that I experienced while writing, when accompanied by a fair amount of drink.

I do not think it is coincidence that many of history's great writers were also many of history's great drinkers.

Another reason that some desire for alcohol remains (and one that lacks the romanticism of the scribe/liquor relationship) is the likely reality that I may very well be an alcoholic.

However, the situation, right now, remains unchanged.

I will clear my name, as I have cleared my credit history, and I will do everything within my control to pass positively by the judgment of those considering my security clearance application.

And, in pursuit of my singular aspiration, I will work harder than I have before, and adhere more stringently to my disciplined routine.

My commitment is as strong now as it had been prior to receiving this afternoon's letter.

For the first time, however, the thought of “what if” has been provoked...

An Uneasy State of Happiness

2011-10-22T03:04:00.000+01:00

A few nights ago, I had dinner with co-workers.

It was an enjoyable night highlighted by my satisfaction with my own participation.

It was one of those nights when conversation came natural, and I felt completely comfortable among those around me... maybe for the first time since leaving my buddies at college.

Following dinner, while walking home from the Metro, I noticed that I had an extra bounce in my step. I had had an experience that I savored and, for that moment, I was truly happy.

As I walked in the door of my house, the thought rushed over me that my happiness at that moment, perversely, was extremely upsetting.

Here's my deal:

Throughout my life, I have always been more physically driven than any one else I have known. Others may, at any given time, work out more intensely than me, and some may work out more regularly than me. But very few work out as intensely as I do so regularly. And, certainly, not many dedicate their selves as passionately while sacrificing so extraordinarily otherwise; whether it be alcohol, good food, or good times (all of which, in some form or the other, I have restricted from myself).

And I do all this to subdue some inner rage.

During high school and then in college, my anger was due to girls. During the former, Charlotte was the spark that ignited my drive and, during college, there was Jenny. Very few understand how severely these girls pained me, mostly because I was able to subdue any outward manifestation of that internal strife by routinely physically exhausting myself.

And now I am discovering that I may just be happy. And it scares me.

I fear, more than any thing else, that I may one day attain such a level of contentment that I lose the edge that has always driven me.

And, absent that drive, I will lose the uniqueness, the obsessiveness, that makes me, me.

A Winning Solution for the Army. AND Prior Service Recruits...

2011-07-30T01:26:00.000+01:00

I have done my fair share of complaining about the ways in which I believe the Army Recruiting Command's “business rules” for prior service applicants discriminate in a way detrimental to the force (as well as to young veterans). Just read here. And here.

I recognize, however, that simply identifying the problem is futile if I do not also endeavor to provide a solution. Tonight, I will publish exactly that; an easy fix that satisfies both the manning needs of the Army and the desires of many veterans that simply want to rejoin the active duty Army.

First, let me direct your attention to the most recent edition of the “business rules,” dated 14 July 2011, which have been posted for us to access here.

Based on the restrictions provided, one can postulate that the active duty Army is over-strength, basically, at the E5 grade.

Since the avenue for retraining offered to prior service applicants (as spelled out in the “business rules,” linked above) with the grade E4 (and below), is the 18X Special Forces candidate contract, I think it is safe to assume that the Army is in need of young Special Forces soldiers.

I'll go further and suggest (and I don't think wrongly) that the Army probably does not offer this retraining option to applicants with the grade E5 because Recruiting Command fears that most candidates will fail Special Forces training and ultimately wind up in the Army as E5's – a grade at which we have already identified a glut.

I am also empathetic to the reason that the Recruiting Command prohibits administrative reducing an applicant's grade from E5 prior to enlisting. The thought is, again, that most applicants will fail the required training and, per the current structure of the 18X contract, remain in the Army with the grade of E4 (and, worse, with the time in service necessary to quickly achieve grade E5, thus, adding to the logjam spoken of in the preceding paragraph).

My solution is to offer prior service applicants with the grade E5 (and, perhaps, above) the 18X contract, but make the conditions within the contract much more favorable to the Recruiting Command should the applicant fail to achieve Special Forces qualification.

Make it clear to prior service applicants that sign the 18X contract that the following two conditions apply should the applicant wash out of Special Forces training:

He will accept retraining in ANY Military Occupational Specialty
He will accept ANY grade (based on the needs of the Army)

The Army's manning requirements are enhanced in two ways by this solution. If the applicant successfully navigates the training required by the 18X contract, the Army gains a stud Special Forces soldier. If the applicant fails, the Army now has what amounts to a recruit committed fundamentally to whatever manning realities dictate at the time of his training washout.

This solution is also better for prior service candidates because it eliminates the idea that those in the grade E5 are categorically rejected from returning to active duty service.

So, just to be clear, and to reiterate, this solution resolves the issue of the E5 logjam that the Army Recruiting Command predicts would occur if applicants in that grade were offered 18X contracts because, if the applicant fails, under the terms of my plan, he would have his grade lowered to E1 – or to any other grade as needed at the time by the Army.

The contract would be weighed heavily in favor of the Recruiting Command, but I believe this is a price many of us with prior service would be willing to pay for the opportunity to again serve our country on active duty.

"Biding My Time"

2011-07-26T18:47:00.000+01:00

This post is being written for the benefit of my Mother mostly, who is helping me overcome my current bout of restlessness, and would be better armed to do so, I think, by knowing the details of my current mindset.

Hopefully, my sister gets a chance to read too, as this entry may serve to flesh out the comment that I am “biding my time” that I had recently disclosed to her.

If anyone else is interested, that’s excellent as writing this is certainly my pleasure.

I can tell you that right now, my daily work is not actively engaging me in the ways I had hoped it would. The statute of limits on my attention span for rather mundane activities is being slowly exhausted.

I have been a bit discreet with the following news: I am currently in the hiring pipeline for an intriguing government position. I am convinced that this position would be satisfying to me – in the very unlikely case that I am selected.

It has not been indicated to me that I am prohibited from talking about this potential job. However, it is secretive enough in nature that I figured disclosing it at any greater a level of detail than I am doing now would, at the very least, serve no good purpose and, worse, may jinx my prospects of being hired.

That said (and totally unrelated), what I once thought was a strong case of nostalgia has proven to be a very real and lasting desire to return to the military.

This surely is not a passing desire. I first discussed the issue on this blog way back in April of 2010.

Next month, on the 15th of August, my contract officially ends with the United States Army Reserve. This was a date that I had long thought would afford me the opportunity to return to the active duty Army. Unfortunately, the same prohibitions stated in the Army Recruiting Command’s “Business Rules” (discussed in the blog entry linked in the preceding paragraph) continue to persist today, and continue to restrict my accession to active duty.

While in the Army Reserve, I had been drilling with a Special Forces National Guard unit as a candidate and had been doing well in this endeavor. Of course, as my contract expires, so does that opportunity.

The easy option may seem to be for me to reenlist in to the National Guard and continue the path with the Special Forces. Unfortunately, some past irresponsibility is coming back to haunt me now, and is making this option less than viable.

In full disclosure, during my freshman year of college, I was delinquent on some debt. These accounts went to a “charged off” status, and I have been working diligently to repay them all since the day I was hired at my current position and, when I could, even before that.

I am at the point now that I have successfully repaid all of these debts save for one account, which I currently only owe a few hundred dollars, and am scheduled to pay by automatic withdrawal on an agreed-upon settlement plan.

Despite the diligence I believe I have demonstrated in overcoming my past mistakes, the National Guard recruiter with whom I am currently working is not convinced that my credit record is sufficiently cleared to allow me to acquire the security clearance needed to reenlist into the National Guard.

This recruiter is working hand-in-hand with me, and has been extremely helpful. I think that once this last account is taken care of, I should be (or at least close to) fully qualified for the clearance needed to consider National Guard options.

So this basically leaves me with nothing presently, except to keep, as the title of this entry suggests, “biding my time.”

I wake up every single weekday morning at 4:30 a.m. to run the one mile to my local gym. I work out hard in order to condition my body for any opportunity in which my high level of fitness may be applied. I run the mile back home, and am in the door, preparing for work, by 7 a.m.

I am in the office by 8:30, and I do everything possible to ensure that I maintain an impeccable work reputation. I’m home by 5:30 p.m. My eyes are so intently on the prize that I do not even allow myself to divert even gingerly from an incredibly disciplined diet, lifestyle, and routine.

I have abstained completely from alcohol since January of 2010. I do not consume simple carbohydrates. My nutritional intake is comprised mostly of water, proteins, and coffee; I would be the “American Psycho” if only I were more financially successful.

I’m in bed most nights by 7:00 p.m., because, quite frankly, I am excited at that point to wake up and hit the gym again the following morning. I typically read until 7:30 and then happily succumb to sleep. I would say that, next to the gym, right now my most satisfying recreational activity is the study of the Russian language, which I have been dedicated, I think, in pursuing.

And this is my life – just “biding my time.”

I am convinced that I am preparing myself for something, and that my tireless dedication, discipline, and hard work will eventually provide rewards. I am not, however, blind to how much in terms of life’s enjoyment that I am sacrificing in my all-consuming endeavor to better myself.

I only hope to one day look back with the satisfaction that I had been “biding my time” for good reason.

Life Has a Plan (For a Reason, No Doubt)

2011-06-24T20:09:00.000+01:00

I’ve tried to keep from publishing entries like the one that follows for three reasons:

1) No one likes a whiner.

2) Practically speaking, these sorts of posts typically prove futile.

3) Given my own familiarity with the present job market and the greater economic malaise it reflects, I am hesitant to give the impression that I am anything but grateful for my current state of employment and the opportunities before me.

Unfortunately, I am unable to fight the urge to share my (slight) discontent this afternoon.

Cognizant of my own reticence, however, I will, at least, be concise.

Of the many acceptable opportunities I am fortunate to have currently presented to me, I believe with some level of certainty that I have settled on which of those I will choose.

However, when I contemplate what it is that I desire to be when I grow up, one career objective elicits a special sort of excitement atypical of my response in conjuring the others: the pursuit of the Green Beret and eventual service on a Special Forces A-Team.

With me, it’s the same old story (for a reason, no doubt).

And while I have kept the efforts mostly private, I have been putting in the leg work to achieve this objective. I am working with both National Guard and active duty recruiters. I attended and performed successfully at a Special Forces assessment drill with the National Guard.

However, with the recruiters, it’s the same old story (for a reason, no doubt) … and the likelihood of me being presented the opportunity to return to duty seems dim.

I have even obtained a letter recommending me for continued military service from a state Senator. Point being; I am paying more than lip service to making this desire a reality.

In any case, it seems increasingly clear that life has a path for me other than the one that I want to travel. This, too, is probably for a reason, although from my current perspective, I have some doubt.

This exercise was simply to share with those that care enough to read about me an idea of my genuine desire as I navigate the choices before me.

Ultimately, despite the three good reasons why I should not post entries like this, there is one really good one as to why I should:

1) It just makes me feel better.

Thanks for reading.

Drawdown in Afghanistan

2011-06-19T17:12:00.001+01:00

I respectfully urge you to support the rapid drawdown of American troops from Afghanistan beginning in the autumn of this year.

The primary military objective in Afghanistan has been to disrupt enemy forces in such a way that they would no longer be able to project terror within the United States. I think that our Armed Forces have certainly been successful in seeing this mission through.

Achieving this objective, alone, may not be sufficient reason to reduce our presence in Afghanistan. To truly appreciate why drawdown is preferable, one must only consider the clear differences between mission scope in Afghanistan now and that within Iraq in 2007 when troop numbers there were being similarly considered.

In 2007, following my own combat tour in Ar Ramadi in the Al Anbar province of Iraq, I supported the opposite of what I am now advocating in Afghanistan. Instead of reducing troops in Iraq in 2007, I thought then that a surge would be beneficial.

I was so convinced that the tipping point toward the sought-after success was being neared in Iraq then, that in September of that year, I rallied with fellow comrades within the Veterans For Freedom organization in Washington, D.C., and approached my Congressional Members to discuss with them passionately my support for increasing the number of troops serving in Operation Iraqi Freedom.

I am now pulling from that same combat experience and passion to suggest the exact opposite approach in Afghanistan.

The reason why troop reduction is necessary in Afghanistan now, but the opposite was required in Iraq in 2007, hinges on the fundamental difference in mission objective within the two countries.

Operation Iraqi Freedom had, from the beginning, a primary task that is absent from the Afghanistan mission presently: to promote a democracy where one had not previously been.

The mission in Afghanistan, on the other hand, has been almost solely to kill the enemy, with the caveat that Coalition forces would depart the country with it residing under auspices of an entity more beneficial to its citizens than the Taliban.

In 2007, I was sure that with additional assistance from Coalition forces, the Iraqi people would develop a working representative government of their own. To leave before this objective was complete would have been abandoning the mission and, worse, would have meant to those that of us that served there that our brothers and sisters in arms had died in vain.

The primary objective in Iraq then was a work in progress. This is not the case in Afghanistan today.

The primary objective of Operational Enduring Freedom is complete. Osama Bin Laden is dead and perhaps more importantly, so is a large number of his counterparts formerly in leadership positions within Al Qaeda. By most assessments, the terror organization within Afghanistan is in such shambles that it can hardly be expected to have the capability to attack the United States within in its sovereign borders.

That, Sir, is mission accomplished.

Contrarily, continuing our combat presence in Afghanistan past the summer season serves no practical purpose. Moreover, it is a financial burden that this country can not currently, reasonably, afford. And, worse, it puts our volunteers of the military unnecessarily in harm's way despite the primary purpose of their presence having already been accomplished.

However, drawdown can not begin until the Taliban's primary fighting season, the summer, ends. To reduce numbers now while the enemy is most aggressive would only serve to cause those that remain in-country to be increasingly vulnerable while the enemy is most violent.

For a similar reason, when proposed drawdown does initiate in September of this year, it must be swift. Once the United States government commits to bringing its troops home, it is my humble opinion that it must do so in a way pursuant to the best interest of those that have voluntarily served it in combat. And the best interest, in this case, requires either a number of troops on the ground sufficient to capably defend themselves, or no troops on the ground in harm's way at all.

In other words, a prolonged and slow reduction of troops would place Americans in an unnecessarily precarious situation and is simply not an option.

I urge you wholeheartedly, Sir, to please keep in mind that the dangers will likely increase for those Americans that remain on the ground within country as Coalition numbers dwindle in Afghanistan. It is my estimation that the shorter the transition period of the redeployment of troops from Afghanistan, the safer that transition period will be for those participating in it.

In closing, I simply and humbly request that you provide the same dedication in your efforts to serve the troops as they have provided in their service to us. I genuinely believe that the military's best interest is served by supporting its redeployment from Afghanistan.

The troops require an advocate that will fight with vigor equal to their own, and with their well-being in mind. And, in this case, their well-being is best supported by a drawdown from Afghanistan that begins autumn, 2011, and, upon initiation, proceeds as rapidly as plausible until its completion.

General Martin Dempsey...

2011-05-30T01:53:00.004+01:00

It is likely that tomorrow, President Barack Obama will nominate General Martin Dempsey the next Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff.

I am concerned by this appointment.

I do not dislike the General (in fact, based on this Power Point presentation alone, I tend to find him, personally, totally agreeable).

However, I believe that at least one of the Commands previously held by the General presents a worrisome indication of his future advice to the President. Worse, the absence of certain Commands in Dempsey's military career is even more negatively telling.

General Dempsey most recently commanded TRADOC, the entity charged with developing the methods in which the Army trains for battle. Few Commands are as concerned with tradition, heraldry, and regimented thinking as is TRADOC, which, at its core, is predicated on the establishment of indoctrination; which, in the military, is of course vital.

Unfortunately, current battle grounds and, likely, future ones will not be most easily won by hard-charging, highly motivated, barrel-chested American warriors alone. Victory in Afghanistan, and other unconventional warfare environments, requires, instead, small numbers of nimble-minded, fleet-footed, culturally-attuned diplomat/fighters.

In more easily understandable terms, TRADOC's mission is to create “inside the box” thinkers to best ensure unit cohesion and discipline, where as unconventional warfare requires, essentially, leaders willing to discover solutions from “outside the box.”

By no means do I believe that I am revealing some path to success for the United States Armed Forces not known by General Dempsey. It would simply be reassuring to use the occurrence of the transition of Admiral Mullen from the Chairman position to appoint as his replacement, an individual with a history of experience with culturally-engaged special operations that are the hallmark of unconventional warfare in which the United States presently finds itself engaged.

Specifically, I would be relieved to see our President advised by a General with previous service with the United States Army Special Forces Command.

But, unfortunately, I fear that the inner-circle of civilian leadership is becoming crowded by the influence of doctrine-obsessed leaders of the type that General Dempsey may prove to be in his new role, and Special Mission Unit commandos whom may too often advise quick-strike direct-action as the end-all/be-all tool for modern warfighting.

It is no secret that our military needs to adapt to a rapidly changing climate of conflict. Selecting a leader with experience in the Army's Special Forces, rather than from conventional Commands, as the next Chairman of the Joint Chiefs would serve as the needed indicator that the highest levels of authority are truly committed to pursuing this sort of necessary change.

Netanyahu...

2011-05-25T18:11:00.005+01:00

During the past week, I have observed, deeply interested, as Israel’s Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, visited the United States.

When the Prime Minister first arrived, and during President Obama’s Middle East-themed speech that preceded the visit, I had not anticipated my own intrigue. However, as Netanyahu’s stay within the United States progressed, I discovered that I was growing increasingly fascinated.

I have no explicit ties to Israel; I am neither Jewish nor Palestinian and, other than a general interest in current events, the on-goings there are not of my daily concern. Yet, the more I have seen and heard from Netanyahu recently, the closer I have watched, and the more I have grown to admire him.

The source of this adoration may be rooted in some nascent level of jealousy.

Daily political attitudes notwithstanding, a statesman the stature of the Israeli Prime Minister is sadly absent from the current leadership in the United States.

Netanyahu is eloquent, wise, and projects the esteem of an elder. Moreover, he is a hero, having served in Israel’s elite Sayeret Matkal. Netanyahu is a leader of the type that only particular experience and intellect can produce and, unfortunately, his equivalent is scarce among those currently chosen to lead the United States.

He is “professor-like” in a style totally different than the current United States President. While our President is incredibly intelligent, the Prime Minister has a sort of wisdom to share that Obama is still developing.

While a registered Republican myself, I am also a supporter of President Obama in the sense that I desire any American president to succeed. I am willing to vote for the leader, regardless of political party affiliation, that I believe will best serve the interest of the country in which I reside and love.

For that reason, it hurts on some level that President Obama is not Prime Minister Netanyahu; no viable current candidate for President is. What’s worse, is that the American leader in Netanyahu’s mold that I presently envision may, in fact, be Barack Obama; just an Obama 12 or 13 years or so wiser.

It is disheartening that a country as successful as the United States is currently void, on the national level, of a statesman of Netanyahu’s clout to lead us. The Prime Minister’s visit reminds us, as they say, that, when it comes to the position of Commander in Chief, George Washington “is not walking through that door.”

Doing Tourist Things...

2011-05-24T01:26:00.001+01:00

During my hiatus from writing here, I have concluded that I do the most writing when my my life is least satisfying.

This seems intuitive to me, as writing takes time. Taking the time to write, and to put the thought in to quality writing, is a sign of other activities not being enjoyed.

That said, let us not conclude that tonight's post is the product of some temporary torment. Truly, I am writing because I have had a collection of photos stored on my computer, a desire to share, and no place nor time to do so.

However, I will say that I have lately missed Tampa. In fact, given how greatly my life has progressed recently, I have missed Tampa, in a relative sense, much more than I would have ever anticipated.

And, what's most peculiar (to me), are the seemingly meaningless details, that are, nonetheless, the things I miss the most; say, for example, entering an ice-cold apartment after sweating through an ungodly humid and hot Tampa day.

That, and I just kind of miss riding in a car, which, mundane to most, is something I rarely (as in, perhaps, once in the past two months) do in this city.

I have also had a strong, and unexplained, desire to visit the Pacific Northwest. Of the few regions in the United States that I have not been, for some reason that I am not currently explicitly aware, the Seattle/Vancouver area is the one I think I may most desire to visit next.

None of this is to suggest that I am unhappy in Washington, D.C. In fact, I am on the cusp of opportunities in this city now so exciting that I keep from sharing in detail for the irrational fear that merely speaking of them will burst the bubble that is their perhaps becoming reality.

In fact, those opportunities aside, my enjoyment of this city for all of its other reasons are evidenced by the pictures I've collected... below:

My Neighborhood:

The school behind my backyard

More of the school

The school set in front of Civil War ruins (old Fort Reno)

Old Fort Reno

The church down the street

More of the church

Not Exactly My Neighborhood, But...

...Georgetown IS within easy running distance

Georgetown Canal during an early Spring, morning run

When the Cherry Blossoms Bloomed:

Near the Washington Monument, set in front of a portion of the Smithsonian

Encountering the Unexpected at the Museum of American History:

The portrait of Stephen Colbert's portrait (of his portrait)

Woooooooooooooooooo!!!!

Various Images from the National Zoo in Woodley Park:

I want to get myself one

Insert self-deprecating comment about a not-so-distant relative HERE

There's a vicious killer in this picture, I swear (and not limited to the stone-cold photographer)

Unexpected Visitors...

...in my BACKYARD!!

A buck...

...rolling deep!

That's it for now. Any of the underlined, highlighted text above links to additional information...

I hope you enjoyed.

Work. Vivaldi. And a comic book.

2011-03-05T03:07:00.002Z

I have come to terms with my inner geek, and have freed it from its previous restraints.

I am truly convinced that my recent willingness to embrace the geek that I had long shunned suggests something positive about my character. However, first, the evidence:

It's a Friday night. On this Friday night, prior to logging in to Blogger, I was captivated by previously recorded audio coverage from the Supreme Court (many thanks to C-SPAN radio).

Currently, I am taking pleasure from the sounds of a totally different sort, those brought forth by Vivaldi and friends (hat tip: Classical King FM).

Later, I will try to rekindle an old passion that I had buried circa the fourth grade by tackling this:

Dudes my age brag about their choice of bed partners, I am happy now to choose from these to assist tonight's pursuit of sleep:

Maybe not the iron

Two of the reasons I have so anticipated this weekend were the opportunity to devote time to this:

...and being able to put effort into a work project without the annoyance of being at work.

And all of this, you may be surprised to learn, brings me great satisfaction...

...which is why, precisely, I think this all speaks to who I have become. And that “who” is a man more self-assured, confident, and happy than he has been in a long time.

I had previously self imposed obstacles prohibiting my full enjoyment of life. I bet many people do.

While I will never liberate myself fully from my own need to be accepted by others (and don't think it rational or worthwhile to do so anyway), I am more confident than ever that the person I want to be is one that people will accept.

I previously questioned certain activities in ways that now seem silly: What if my friends know I blog?? And, what would ever become of me if they knew I occasionally enjoy music like this...

But now? If I want to read a comic book ... Well, I will read a comic book.

If this makes me a geek, then so be it. As geeks go, I think I will make a pretty cool one.

The cause for the increased comfort I have recently discovered within “my own skin,” as it goes, is easily traceable. And its roots, interestingly, are nestled deeply in the fulfillment I receive from my current daily work.

While my present job is, by no means, what I want to do with my life, it still brings so very much to my life.

I have found a place where my contribution matters, my effort makes a difference, and the products I create have practical purpose.

Where I was once hesitant to speak up, I have now found my voice resonates.

These successes, on the scale of what is done at my work, are little. But, in terms of my life, their impact is large.

It is the case that I am still no more certain than I had ever been of what I want from this life (thus, the GRE) but it is also the case that I am enjoying the search as much (and maybe more) than I ever have.

Kindred Spirit...

2011-02-09T00:29:00.002Z

...MSN “Encarta” defines Kindred Spirit as someone like you in character.

I just discovered “Walden” and, in doing so, encountered an author that conjured my own thoughts more than a century preceding my birth.

I had a while ago began to appreciate solace in a certain level of solitude, and had definitely developed a desire to judge personal success by my own metric of measurement.

In “Walden”, I have embraced satisfaction in Henry David Thoreau's companionship, as his words are so familiar it's as if we have shared experience.

More than a Kindred Spirit, Thoreau may be the guide I never previously knew I had. The American Transcendentalism that he espoused may be the map that I have long sought.

The D.C. Auto Show...

2011-02-06T23:23:00.000Z

... I should probably be preparing to watch the Super Bowl right now. But I am not. I do not even own a television.

Instead, I would like to take a moment and share with you the pictures I took yesterday while browsing the D.C. Auto Show.

I know far too little about cars to provide much in terms of accurate details to accompany these pictures. I have, however, done my best to include model names.

That said, these things I do know:

1. The woman promoting the new Jeep models during the show was the most attractive female I have ever encountered in-person. Seriously. She drew much more of my attention than any of the cars; I had to fight the urge to keep from taking a creepy picture.

And it would have been obvious. Because, really, who is photographing Jeeps at a show like this?

2. The Audi R8 remains my dream car. However, red as an exterior color does not do its beauty justice. Moreover, its design may be nearing the age where a slight redesign is required.

3. My next car will be a Civic. And, if not a Civic, then a Honda CRZ.

4. Have I mentioned girls during this list, yet? Because car shows, as this was my first, I have come to discover, attract beautiful women. The number in attendance was... distracting.

The pictures:

Audi R8

Mercedes AMG SLS

Jaguar XK

Bentley Continental GT

Bentley Mulsanne

Rolls Royce Phantom

Chevrolet Corvette

Ford Mustang Laguna Seca Edition

Cadillac CTS V-Coupe

Dodge Challenger

The Basilica...

2011-02-06T22:22:00.001Z

...About two weeks ago, I visited the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, a Catholic landmark dedicated to the Virgin Mother Mary, and located on The Catholic University of America's D.C. campus.

What follows are images from my visit. I had desired to take a guided tour, which are offered by the Basilica hourly. Unfortunately, unbeknown to me then, the weekend of my visit was also the weekend of the "Right to Life" march, and its numbers consumed most of the tour guides. So, that said, I am lacking the knowledge to properly caption many of these images; however, I have added details where possible.

I would like to one day compare, at length, the Basilica with the National Cathedral, although my heart is not behind such an undertaking right now, other than to say that I enjoyed encountering both and, as a knee-jerk reaction, I would say that, overall, the Cathedral was more majestic in the sense that the grandness of the facility stole my breath in ways that the Basilica did not. On the other hand, I found much of the artwork in the Basilica more to my liking than the same in the Cathedral...

The walls of the initial walkway upon entering the ground floor of the Basilica are seemingly endlessly lined with ingrained names...

One name quickly grabbed my attention...

Legendary Notre Dame Football Player, Knute Rockne

I did not see his name during my visit, but further reading has indicated that Babe Ruth was another contributor of note to the Basilica, and his name is also ingrained on these same walls.

Tribute to Mother Teresa

Within the Basilica are numerous smaller chapels, all dedicated to their own take on the manifestation of the Virgin Mother Mary. For example, one of the chapels is dedicated to Mary depicted of Vietnamese descent. Each form of Mary in the separate chapels has a different story, and certain significance to its particular congregation...

There is also, of course, a large primary sanctuary:

The most appealing of the smaller chapels, to me, was the one dedicated to this depiction of the Mother Mary:

The Black Madonna of Czestochowa

The link provided in the caption will explain better than I am capable, but the Black Madonna is the most notable of Polish Catholic treasures. As such, the replica of the Black Madonna, seen here, is the focal point of the Polish Chapel in the Basilica.

The painting of the Black Madonna, above, is actually a replica of a replica of the original, which, itself, is kept under close guard in Poland. The primary replica, normally housed in the Basilica, was undergoing repairs during my visit, so this version is its temporary replacement.

I spent quite a bit of time in the small Polish chapel, not so much reflecting upon my own religious beliefs, but considering the significance of the tradition on those within my family that came before me. My grandmother, known to me as my Babci, surely would have been emotionally taken in ways that I remain ignorant by the experience of the Polish chapel. While the exact feeling was lost to me, the historical context and its greater meaning were not.

Of course, the importance of the Polish chapel became all the more undeniable when I noticed this:

I stood in the footsteps of Pope John Paul II

The two images that follow next are of the right and left walls of the Polish chapel, and their ornate decor:

Here is information about the original Shrine to the Black Madonna in Czestochowa, Poland. I would really like to visit Poland in the future but, alas, I am digressing...

And, to close, here are more, unlabeled pictures from the Basilica:

Thanks!

Enlightenment...

2011-02-05T02:23:00.003Z

...I have recently discovered consciously what I have no doubt known implicitly for some time. There are four primary activities of which I gain the most enjoyment:

Reading
Writing
Exercising
Traveling

(In that order.)

This is to say that I would be fully satisfied by a daily life that affords an hour to work out, the most of the rest to read, and whatever remains, to write on my reflections of doing both. With some good fortune, these daily activities would be spent in differing locations of historical significance.

I have also taken up the pastime of book collecting. While reading by means of the internet is stimulating, and Wikipedia a healthy companion, I have only lately realized a whole other level of enrichment gained by physically opening and digging deeply in to the words provided by books.

Thoreau is tonight's source of entertainment. His gift: “Walden.”

If “intellectualism” can be twisted grammatically in such a way to suggest a recreational activity, then I now claim it as my preferred hobby.

So far as hobbies go, bettering one's self physically and mentally is a relatively inexpensive one; another of its several favorable characteristics.

All this is to say that, like many of the recent past, I will spend this Friday night quietly.

Like Thoreau, I will tell you that, in spending it in such a way, I consider myself most fortunate.

For tonight, I have the opportunity to lose myself in two of my most preferred ways: by reading, and...writing.

Revolution in the Air...

2011-01-29T19:13:00.005Z

For a long time, I used blogs such as this one, and Educated Soldier, that I published at before, to distribute mostly introspection, or to give my personal opinion on public events.

Recently, however, I have purposely refrained from doing this, and have opted, instead, for entries more “generic” in nature. I have had my own legitimate reasons for desiring to do so.

However, with today's entry, I will, at least temporarily, revert to the old format.

I have found myself unexpectedly, but tremendously, emotionally moved by the current uprisings in the north African countries of Egypt and Tunisia. I would like to share this video:

This is powerful.

One of the many reasons that the video above is so significant to me is the reaction that I presume it attracts.

For example, I would not be surprised if some of my peers, and people I admire, question my appreciation for such a video. They may question my sympathy for “those people.”

In 2003, I was ordered to cross an international border with the goal of establishing democracy and granting freedom where none previously existed. It was a cause that I agreed with wholeheartedly. And, in the immediate late-Spring/early-Summer of Operation Iraqi Freedom, the tearful gratitude expressed to me, personally, by the residents of Baghdad confirmed that, all other reasons for war aside, promoting freedom was cause enough.

I was sent to promote freedom in a foreign land; the people in the video above are fighting for it in their local streets.

I truly believe these are monumental times. Should paradigm change occur in the governments of Egypt and Tunisia, the types adopted may be precedent for the entire region.

However, not all change is good change. Thirty years ago, another Middle Eastern government encountered uprising and subsequent turn-over, and the fall of the Shah of Iran has not, by my understanding, encouraged personal freedom within that country since.

One, however, can hope.

If the precedents provided by Egypt and Tunisia are positive, in a freedom-encouraging sort, at least, then perhaps these can be the cases needed to push the Green Revolution in Iran over the top in its own now seemingly stifled effort to secure greater personal rights in that country.

Unfortunately, as I learned in Iraq, in 2003, and then, later in the same country, while deployed to Ar Ramadi in 2005, when change is rampant, not everyone involved desires the same sorts of change.

It is likely that the Muslim Brotherhood is monitoring the turmoil in Egypt. The change that they would employ within the country, if given the opportunity, I believe, would be much different from the freedoms that those in the streets are now fighting for.

I said that one can hope. I would like to think that an individual can do more.

It does not feel particularly revolutionary today in northern Virginia; just cold. However, for so many of our companions on this planet, right now is a cataclysmic time of change.

If Tunisia, Egypt, Iraq, and Afghanistan are not example enough, perhaps austerity measures in the more familiar Greece and Ireland may signal change in the air.

For me, the revolution is in myself. This is a time to genuinely reflect and understand one's place. I find myself questioning the causes I have committed myself. Are there more beneficial means to volunteer my time and abilities? Simple matters; do I agree with my identified political party affiliation, for example.

The big change demanded by the people of Tunisia and Egypt has encouraged me to adopt my own little change.

As I assess my values, I will be guided by the fundamental belief that one should not have his or her level of freedoms based solely on the country in which that person was born.

However, my passions will be inspired by those, like in the video above, that are willing to fight for the freedoms they desire if only because I have fought for the same cause.

My hope is that, as my values and passions become more clear to me, I may find some meaningful way to help those with whom I strongly relate...

Image Dump...

2011-01-17T23:57:00.001Z

From my various travels during the past week or so...

Burlington, near Boston, Massachusetts; and the most snow I had seen since high school in North Dakota.

Most notable, to me, about this massive accumulation of snow was that there was absolutely none when I initially arrived in Boston. That is to say that all this snow, in its two foot or so totality, fell during a single storm, and most of it during a relatively brief period between midnight and eight in the morning, while I slept.

Various displays from the National Air and Space Museum, most containing objects that I can not identify with any specificity.

After other plans failed to materialize, I instead spent about an hour of a day-off touring the National Air and Space Museum. Ironically (I guess?), I could easily, and probably more conveniently (given the Metro Rail's difficulties this past weekend) visit this wing of the Smithsonian during a day OF work, as my office is directly across the street.

While in the museum, I saw the IMAX film, Hubble 3D. I had never before seen a 3D film in theater and, quite honestly, it was pretty cool. The 3D effect enhanced the visuals of the film more than I had anticipated. That being said, this particular film would have stood well on its own merits. The material provided by the Hubble Space Telescope was both mesmerizing and eye-opening, figuratively and literally.

I am not sure which is more amazing: the vastness of the universe, or just how far we can now peer in to it.

Corcoran Gallery of Art:

During the past weekend, I had intended to visit the Phillips Collection, my favorite art gallery within the District. The Collection was celebrating its 90th birthday by extending free admission and hosting several films and other festivities. However, upon arrival, I discovered the line for entry extended over a full city block.

I decided to pass, and instead visited the Corcoran Gallery of Art...

Picasso

Degas

Monet

Salon Dore

Warhol

Stuart

Church

The final painting above, Niagara, was the Gallery's most impressive, in my opinion, and one of the finest pieces of art I had ever laid eyes upon. No photographic reproduction can do the masterpiece's dedication to detail justice.

The Salon Dore, if it is not apparent, is not a painting, but an entire gilded room within the Gallery. Like Niagara, the intiricacy can hardly be captured digitally.

...

And, of course, no image collection that comes from my camera would be complete without an unsolicited, but gratuitous, picture of me. Seriously though; I am putting my body through a physical conditioning routine that I doubt many others would willfully commit. And while the purpose of doing so is totally pragmatic, the results are also fun to share.

I doubt (know? haha) I could even handle the girl that would solicit images like this...

Anyway....

Blazing My Own Trail

2011-01-09T00:33:00.009Z

I take great pride in my ability and willingness to hike significant weight notable distances.

Today, I put that proficiency to the test.

I hiked the southern portion of Washington D.C.'s Rock Creek Trail. My path, more or less, is depicted below:

I like this route - I can claim to have hiked from near Maryland, through D.C., to Virginia!

I began my hike in vicinity of the Van Ness Metro station, and completed it at the Metro station at the Arlington National Cemetery. Adding to the distance trekked, I may also note that, from my house, the nearest Metro station, at West Falls Church, is an additional .90 mile walk.

My hobby's tools include: A Droid 2 phone (for picture taking, emergency contact, and useful navigation features), an "Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America" sweathshirt, beanie, boots, and a ruck-suck packed thusly:

Because a gallon of water weighs approximately eight pounds, the total weight of my ruck's contents (in water, at least) was 48 pounds. Additional weight was provided by the entrenching tool (which, may be more easily identified as a "collapsible shovel"), wet weather gear, and the day's lunch. The jugs sit neatly in my bag in two levels of three, with the blue sheet used to create a nice, flat surface between the two levels.

Everything described in the paragraph above, more than the terrain, distance, environment, or any other factor, contributed most directly to any displeasure that was experienced during my hike.

Mother Nature greeted the initiation of my journey this morning with gently, but steadily, falling snow. Enough fell to accumulate a "dusting", but also enough to make the early-going a bit more slippery.

My hike began at the Soapstone Valley Trail. Interestingly, the trail, while rustic itself, steps off along a main thoroughfare in an otherwise urban area. Anyone familiar with the D.C. metro area may be surprised to discover that the trail, above, is pictured less than a block away from the busy Connecticut Avenue in proximity of the University of the District of Columbia.

"Just off the beaten path" of modern and busy D.C. is this beautiful nature refuge.

"Few", but not "none." Obviously, I was not the first to venture here.

The Soapstone Trail eventually led me to Beach Road, the main street running north/south along the Rock Creek Trail. Straddling my trail and Beach Road was the Rock Creek, and some of its residents:

As my distance hiked increased, two consistent thoughts diverted my mind from attending to the pain that was developing in my shoulders: 1) How in-tune I felt with the more natural environs that surrounded me and (perhaps, in some odd way, intrinsically related) 2) How incredibly attractive I found nearly every girl I encountered running along the trail. Mother Nature did her best to win my attention with efforts like this:

Am I still in D.C.?

Whenever I encountered the opportunity, I diverted from the paved Rock Creek Trail to any footpath that roamed through the woods. During one such case of wandering, I stumbled upon the Dumbarton Oaks Park (link to Wikipedia, provided). I now understand, based on the reading I did upon returning home, that the grounds is of some historical significance. The park led me to this mansion that fascinated me enough to desire its picture being taken:

This reward for going off the trail came with a consequence...

...I found that, unless I wanted to hike down Wisconsin Avenue instead of along my preferred nature trail, I would have to backtrack in order to return to the Rock Creek Trail; I did just that and, midway, stopped and enjoyed the quick lunch of tuna, beans, and peanut butter that I had stowed the night previous during this trip's preparation.

My next encounter was probably the most peculiar. Nestled on a hillside was an old graveyard that, presented in front a sun-lit sky was now fascinating, but could be equally as frightening during a dimly moon-lit night.

A placard indicated that the graveyard was, in fact, the Mt. Zion Cemetery, which was noted for further research upon my trek's completion.

The final resting place for "The Female Union Band Society."

I made some distance between me and the creepy encounter pictured above, and referenced my phone's GPS. I discovered that I was further south than I had imagined I would be. This was not due to some heroic pace. Instead, this was the case simply because I had thought my hike's starting point to be more further north in relation to the rest of D.C. when I had planned it.

The result of this observation was the discovery of the relative-close availability of several Metro stations to return home. My choices were: Foggy Bottom, Rosslyn, or Arlington National Cemetery. I decided that, since I had traveled this far, I was going to venture to Rosslyn so, for no other reason really, I could satisfy myself with the accomplishment of having returned, on foot, to Virginia.

As I pushed past where I would have turned had I chosen to catch the train at Foggy Bottom, my decision became more easily justified as I encountered two notable facilities I had not previously seen in-person:

Watergate

The Kennedy Center

I was impressed by The Kennedy Center mostly because I have great admiration for the type of art that is performed there. In fact, I have a soft side for the classics altogether, whether they be manifested by music (such as at The Kennedy Center, or on King.org, currently streaming through my earbuds), books, paint, or sculpture. I have never experienced a full, live Symphony Orchestra, although I intend to in the future, and the fact that the one representing all the United States is in residence here gave me some thrill as I traveled past The Kennedy Center.

While it took some level of consideration to become passionately moved by my encounter with The Kennedy Center, I was more immediately impressed with the Watergate complex simply because the entire facility is unexpectedly huge. Perhaps it is because Watergate is designed like a 20th Century labyrinth that it gave the impression of being so intimidatingly imposing...

...These are the sorts of thoughts that develop in one's mind when the alternative is only a keener awareness of the ache in the shoulders or the blister developing between the toes...

All that stood between Rosslyn (and, thus, home) and I, now was the Theodore Roosevelt Bridge. But, let me tell you, he was a pretty imposing obstacle. In fact, upon closer inspection (and additional walking that resulted in more backtracking), I made probably a life-saving decision not to venture across the Roosevelt Bridge. It seemed much more accommodating for commuters on its Interstate Highway 66 with their fancy automobiles. Those commuters, on the other hand, with their fancy automobiles, did not seem as equally willing to accommodate me.

At least not safely, anyhow.

It was not much further from the Roosevelt Bridge to the Arlington Memorial Bridge which I knew, for fact, would be more than willing to support my pedestrian effort.

The east end of the Arlington Memorial Bridge; the culminating leg of my journey.

I am so thankful for today's experience that I hesitate to explain my satisfaction in much more detail for fear of being accused of hyperbole. Despite my sense of accomplishment, at this point, I still had in my path a single nuisance, the Arlington Memorial Bridge, herself.

The bridge was without fault. I share much more anguish for the wind that whipped off the Potomac as I crossed her span. I could see the gate to the Cemetery looming, and the Metro station in its vicinity coming nearer; perhaps the wind was Mother Nature subtly reminding me to give thanks for all she had provided me throughout the day: a morning complete with a Rockwellian layer of snow, an afternoon with a sun-filled sky, and a rural paradise nestled in a city for me to explore in between.

And then... I was there:

The escalators to the Metro, my finish line.

Of course, I had to deal with that small, nearly mile long jaunt from the Metro station to my house, with the bag and its weight refusing to leave my back, but that was tolerable...

...and, to be honest, it all was.

I like to describe the pain in my feet and shoulders and the discomfort of the wind on my face to assist you, as a reader, in experiencing completely what I enjoyed today. But now that I am disclosing fully, I will tell you that those are but little matters. Seriously. 50 pounds extra weight on the back results in 5000 times the sense of accomplishment when all is done.

In fact, I can not wait to get out there again. My plan is to next time begin further north in the Rock Creek Park nearer to Silver Spring. Then, I will be able to say with no deception that I began my hike in Maryland!

I am sincerely thankful for the restraint that has been demonstrated by all in leaving an area like the Rock Creek Park unmolested. I am also genuinely thankful for there being such a wonderful place so easily accessible by public transportation. The park and the opportunity for enjoyment it presents are but two more reasons to add to the many that make me so love the Washington, D.C. metro area I now call home.

Thanks for sharing in my adventure. I have uploaded additional pictures from the hike to my Flickr stream HERE.

I would also ask of any residents of the local area, to provide via comment suggestions of hiking spots that they may enjoy in or around D.C. I will be looking for more areas to test my tolerance!

Rocky the Bull...

2010-11-25T22:05:00.008Z

Today, I give thanks to "Rocky the Bull"*:

This story is not really about Rocky, but names have been changed to preserve anonymity.

Little did I know that on Thanksgiving Day one year ago, I would be just weeks away from one of the most significantly life altering events of my life.

Early December, last year, about a week prior to my birthday, during a long night of drinking, a bout of amateur MMA-style “rough housing” resulted in that guy, pictured above, quite accidentally fracturing my ankle and splitting my fibula.

The results of that, in turn, looked like this:

My leg's repair required surgery, which I underwent on Christmas Eve, 2009. I had a rod placed in my leg, and this pin in my ankle which, clearly, has since been removed.

Immediately thereafter, many of the things good about my life crashed around me.

However, to deal with those difficult times, at least financially, I made a decision to partake a bit less in alcohol. I quickly discovered that the loss of drinking hardly discouraged my enjoyment of life.

Since (and for the time being), I completely abstain from alcohol.

And while I do not condemn the act itself, drinking's absence has led, and in mostly direct ways, to so many great recent developments in my life.

For the first time in a long time, I am financially stable, repaying old debts, and no longer survive “paycheck to paycheck.”

I am employed. And while the work I do I may not love, I love the opportunities my particular place of employment presents for me.

I have been able to relocate to a city that, for a long time, I have been drawn to.

The physical fitness goals that I have always been dedicated to are growing more easily achieved without the added challenge of overcoming alcohol's impeding effects on my body's recovery.

I feel sharper, and more determined. Not since being consumed by fiery ambition to dunk a basketball as a middle-schooler have I felt so motivated; but, this time, my passion to achieve is not devoured by a solitary goal, but distributed evenly to all of life's challenges.

I have gained a new habit that I find as addicting as alcohol ever was: competitive running.

Perhaps, then, it is appropriate that on a day dedicated to giving thanks, I demonstrated my thankfulness by competing in a 5 kilometer charity run that about a year ago seemed an activity that would be, for me, an impossibility.

2009 ended roughly. 2010 began worse. Perseverance, however, has presented beautiful reward.

The reward is my happiness.

The comment now that “life could not be better” would be less than the truth. But only because some personal aspirations still allude me.

However, I can say, quite surely, that for the first time, in a very long time, I am absolutely happy.

My happiness is pure, in that “no strings attached” sort of sense.

And for this happiness I give thanks.

As inadvertent as his influence may have been on causing it all, I guess today I must direct my gratitude toward whom it is due. And, for all of this, I guess I must refer you all to the dude pictured above.

Today, I give thanks to "Rocky the Bull."

My Goal...

2010-11-24T02:38:00.000Z

...is to become Georges St-Pierre

"Doing Enough"...

2010-11-17T15:47:00.002Z

“Why is it everything is going my way but I still feel like I’m not doing enough?”

I am choosing not to disclose the identity of the sender of this text message that I received last night if only because I presume that he (or she) would probably not choose willingly to be identified as the cause of another one of my many probably-all-too-introspective blog posts.

Nevertheless, reading this text this morning had a tremendous effect on my outlook as I headed in to this new day.

The text’s creator attributed its delivery to she (or he) having been drinking during the writing of the message.

While I believe that alcohol may have contributed to the “send” button being pressed, I think something stronger than inebriation led to the text’s words.

The only evidence that I have to support this hypothesis is the very fact that I so strongly relate, personally, with the sentiment that “everything is going my way but I still feel like I’m not doing enough”.

A recent upturn in personal good fortune, no doubt due, in some part, to my own recent healthier decision-making, has resulted in my current lifestyle being as comfortable and secure as it has ever been.

Yet, for several reasons, I daily struggle with the feeling of inadequacy in my own contribution to the greater good. I am certainly not "doing enough”.

I work in Washington, D.C., a location ripe with reminders of how extraordinary man can be. I doubt many are as emotionally impacted by the historical significance of the Capitol environment as I. Almost inexplicably, I feel overwhelmed by passion each and every time I encounter any of D.C.’s numerous landmarks and monuments.

Visits to the Arlington National Cemetery only serve to reinforce the reverberations of these reflections.

This is the site of the final resting place for many individuals that I once served with. I never lament for these lost brethren, but for the suffering of their families, and in doing so, I selfishly wonder if I am doing enough to make the most of this one life I am promised, especially given the very real awareness that this opportunity (at life) can be so easily, unexpectedly, and quickly taken away.

Daily, I am driven to better myself in the pursuit of total preparation for whatever role I will eventually fulfill in my effort to “do enough”.

Yet, in this preparation, I am disappointed by my own intellectual and physical deficiencies. I can never be ready quick enough. I am haunted by the fear that if my opportunity to “do enough” were presented now, I may be ill-equipped to embark upon it. Constant failings harden my resolve.

I can not acquire Russian language proficiency nearly as quickly as I desire no matter the intensity of my study.

I can not run fast enough. My own level of athleticism always seems just a bit less than what conditions require.

Apprehension of the Arabic language is a goal that, despite my daily study, often seems just out of grasp.

I simply can not rapidly reacquire the math skills needed to ace the graduate exam, so as to prepare myself for further university schooling.

But, I continue every day like “a man possessed”, because, quite literally, I am a man possessed. I am possessed by this never ceasing sentiment that despite “everything going my way”, “I’m not doing enough”.

I truly believe that because of the aptitudes I was fortunate to be born with and, more importantly, because of my uncommon determination, that the level of “enough” expected of me is much greater than that required to be given by my peers.

The sentiment of last night’s text message could not have rang more true.

My friend, we are not “doing enough”. And, despite our greatest of efforts, we are not preparing doggedly “enough”. That is because, for us, "enough" is a level that increasingly ascends the nearer we get to it.

No matter our impact, I believe we have a very true obligation to always do more in pursuit of “doing enough”.

We are obligated to the fallen brethren we served with, and the promise to make the most of the opportunity they no longer have.

We are obligated to the legacies of extraordinary men who came before us, and the need to emerge from the shadows their great statures’ cast.

And, most importantly, we are obligated to our own potential. It sets for us a lofty level of “enough” that we both know is unattainable.

Yet, we must never quit in pursuit of it because it is during its pursuit that we may contribute in such a way so as to honor those to whom we are obligated...

A Love of Language...

2010-11-10T17:09:00.000Z

...Three months of hard work and some mental exhaustion may have just gone for naught.

I began studying the Russian language while on Annual Training with the Army Reserve in July. So, the duration of my study has been, approximately, three to four months.

Today, however, I encountered a very simple advertisement, one whose image I have embedded below:

Seeing this simple Arabic script quickly reminded me how much I enjoyed studying the language while a freshman at the University of South Florida.

I have enjoyed my experience attempting to master Russian. However, there is something about Arabic-speaking culture that appeals to me.

The fact that I spent two years while in the Army in Arabic-speaking countries may contribute to this particular fascination. However, I also spent significant time in South Korea, and I feel no similar passion about learning more about Southeast Asian cultures.

In fact, of my list of international locations I wish to visit, none surpasses my desire to experience Dubai.

The Middle East appeals to me.

While in college, a friend and I used to frequently visit a hookah bar whose other customers, at the time, were all Arabic speaking and of Middle Eastern descent. My friend and I had strong rapport with the shop’s Arab owner. It was a source of great personal pride, and conversation, that I could read, although not understand, the different Arabic script posted on the bar’s walls.

I feel overwhelmed currently by a motivation to recommit myself to the study of Arabic and Middle Eastern culture.

I think I will do so, and supplement my Arabic study, occasionally, with Russian lessons.

If nothing else, I believe that better understanding of any foreign language exercises the aptitudes required to pick up additional languages.

Considered that way, my effort toward acquiring Russian proficiency has not been totally an exercise in wasting time.

How Stimulus Funds Should be Spent...

2010-11-08T01:29:00.002Z

...Washington D.C.'s Metro Rail system is an interesting, and intriguing, form of capital redistribution.

Based solely on my observations as a daily customer of the system, it seems that a large number of the Metro Rail's riders are federal government employees.

The federal government, in turn, subsidizes the rail fares for its workers. In full disclosure, I participate in this program.

Surely, many of these civil servants choose Metro Rail over the daily use of their personal vehicles because of this subsidy. The large number of government commuters who have become dependent upon the Metro Rail now necessitates the system.

The sheer size of the Metro Rail infrastructure causes it to require countless man hours in upkeep and operation. The power of the Metro Rail as a tool for employment is especially true presently with the current development of the Silver Line. During my twice-daily (at least) walks to the local station, I cross over I-66 and see numerous workers hard at labor physically constructing the new line.

Moreover, the relative convenience of the system promotes the redistribution of wealth from commuters' places of residence to the many areas accessible via the system.

D.C.'s Metro Rail, and the government transit subsidy program that contributes to its heavy use, serve successfully not only in getting employees to and from work, but actually at putting people TO work, all the while.

I am cautious in drawing from the success that I conclude from the Metro Rail in D.C. and extrapolating it to cases of “what-could-have-been” with the 700 and-some-odd billion dollars dedicated by the American Recovery and Reinvestment Act.

However, it seems, intuitively at least, that the money could have been better spent, had it needed spending at all, directed at mammoth and useful projects like the Metro Rail.

My Heroes...

2010-10-24T23:20:00.003+01:00

...About three weeks ago, I was standing in D.C., in front of the Treasury Building, and across from Old Ebbitt Grill. While standing there, the Presidential motorcade exited the White House, and passed not more than 100 feet from me. I guess I can say that, more than likely, on that night, for the second time in my life, I was in the presence of the President of the United States.

This afternoon, I was in Subway, enjoying lunch. A middle aged man walked in, wearing a baseball cap cocked back in the peculiar sort of fashion that confirmed the profession that the familiar symbol and slogan, De Oppresso Liber, on his shirt suggested

I can say, with no doubt, that I was much more humbled and awed because of my respect for the individual in my presence during this afternoon's encounter than I had been during my experience on Pennsylvania Avenue a few weeks back.

As I, by all means, revere the President and his responsibilities, today's observation should only serve to demonstrate the special regard I reserve for America's professional soldiers.

84 Words Dedicated To My Puppy...

2010-10-11T21:15:00.000+01:00

...If given a long weekend, sufficient monetary resources and, I guess, the relevant visa, I could travel anywhere throughout the world.

I have given thought to my reaction to being presented such an opportunity.

I have concluded that, despite all the wonderful things to do and exciting places to visit this world of ours has to offer, I would choose now just to take a trip back to where I have been before, Tampa, and hang out with a companion I miss pretty dearly.

The Motivating Powers of Nostalgia...

2010-10-11T00:17:00.003+01:00

...The area occupied by the United States military in the nearly inhospitable desert of Kuwait in 2002, prior to the initiation of Operation Iraqi Freedom, was so pitiful for those of us stuck there, at the time, that occasional visits afforded to the minutely less monotonous Camp Doha were like momentary vacations to Paradise.

Fast food restaurants and high class military dining facilities at Camp Doha were to me, then, as a trip to Ruth's Chris would be to me, now. Never before, and probably never since, have I so taken such an appreciation for the little things in life than I did during my trips to Doha during my mandated exodus from civilization, circa late 2002, early 2003.

Occasionally, a song (Or this. Or this.) will play on my MP3 player now, triggering nostalgia and reminding me of the satisfaction enjoyed during those trips made from the desolation of desert Kuwait to the slightly less remote wonderland of Doha.

The reaction to hearing a familiar song is delivered like the tide of an unbounded flood. The wall of emotion for friends to whom I am now removed is impossible to deny. And the passion of my emotion accounts for how tirelessly I remain tied to certain ambitions that I have for my future.

And, when I think about it all, I realize just how much I really miss.

There is, first, the simple matter described above. Asceticism, I have found, especially when not self-imposed, is correlated to perception of satisfaction. The less you have available to enjoy, the more you enjoy the little that is available.

Of course, I would never now freely impose upon myself the type of restricted lifestyle that I was forced to live while in Kuwait. But, for that reason, I may never find the satisfaction in a Subway sandwich commensurate to the level I enjoyed with every bite in Camp Doha.

For some reason, it took seven years absence, and a recent upturn in personal success, for me to finally discover just how badly I miss my old soldier brethren back in the C.O.L.T. platoon and the little ways we discovered entertainment while stuck in conditions determined to suck the satisfaction fully from our daily lives.

When I think about life in the old Kuwaiti Kabals, may they rest in peace, my mind does an effective job of erasing from my thought all the factors that made that period truly miserable. All I now recollect is how greatly I simply miss it all. And when I consider those things that I miss most, it becomes clear that my mind has been consumed by the same passion for nearly ten years now.

Simultaneously, I realize that my fears are becoming my reality.

I am tired of writing about all this.

So I may not any longer.

Because of the repercussions of some of my past actions, I can not affect the sort of change upon my life that I would like, in as little time as I would most desire.

I would hate myself for the mistakes I have made, if I were not so able to clearly see how essential those mistakes were in developing the more mature man I believe myself to be today.

With continued physical determination, financial responsibility, and dedication to fulfilling the obligations I currently have committed myself, I should be able to place myself in such a situation to again have the opportunity to grasp that which, despite my occasional denial, has been the pursuit of my professional desires for nearly a decade now.

The Media As Sedative...

2010-10-07T01:57:00.000+01:00

...I do not advocate necessarily the complete disregard of leisurely distractions in favor of strict attention to the turmoils of the world.

That being said, the fact that the case of Geert Wilders is but a slightly followed occasion here in the United States speaks sadly of what is deemed important by those delivering the news to us.

“Deaf and blind and dumb, and born to follow...

...What you need is someone strong to guide you.”

Such are the lyrics to Tool's “Opiate”, words no doubt inspired by the philosophy of Karl Marx, whom is attributed, after translation, with observing that “religion is the opium of the masses”.

In the case of today's United States, if religion is the opium, then the media that serves the populace is a nearly equal sedative.

The media is doing a disservice to its constituents by not better bringing to their attention the case currently playing out in the Netherlands in regards to Wilders. While the play-by-play now is occurring an ocean away, the repercussions could very well, very quickly, and in very real terms, be experienced on this side of the water.

If Wilders' stance, basically anti-Islamic in nature, gains greater popular Dutch backing, he immediately becomes the excuse extremists bent on rationalizing their terrorism have been looking for.

Of all current international events, whether large or small, none have the repercussions so possibly exponentially devastating than that of the growing popularity of Wilders.

This is backpage news in the sense that the assassination of the Archduke Ferdinand was just an isolated event in time.

I do not argue, now at least, whether Wilders' ideology is wrong or right. In either case, it is gaining growing support and, in doing so, could serve to stoke fires in opposition that we have paid for ten years in blood, sweat, and lives trying to extinguish.

And the real story, to me, is that hardly any one in America is given the chance to care. The population is simply languishing in sedated ignorance by a media system that is failing it.

Unfortunately, by the time our media dedicates to this issue the attention it deserves, the prognosticated bottom line made tonight, will be delivered up front then:

“Wilders' Rhetoric Results in Hundreds Dead In Terrorist Retaliatory Attack.”

The Turmoil of Satisfaction..

2010-10-04T01:51:00.002+01:00

...“It is becoming increasingly difficult for me to challenge the belief of God given how obviously my life is blessed.”

I observed as much during this past weekend. This thought was especially prevalent during an enjoyable occasion of casual wandering throughout the District on a beautiful autumn Friday evening, following the culmination of my first week at a government position that I believe I am going to enjoy greatly.

I am thoroughly bothered by my current satisfaction.

I have failed to post here regularly recently. Given my busy schedule due to the new job, this blogging hiatus may not be entirely unexpected. It may even be warranted and it is, surely, excusable.

The truth is, however, I have not written because of a lack of time, but because of a lack of fire.

I take nearly everything I do very seriously.

This has manifested itself positively: I extract maximum effort from my body's ability during every session spent in the gym.

It has also had negative repercussions: when I still drank, I could not just consume alcohol routinely, I had to be the Jim Morrison of my friends; pushing toward my body's edge of tolerance in my pursuit of being the most lauded drinker amongst my peers.

And what is published here is subject to those same stringent personal standards.

My life has taken a turn for the splendid but, on the inside, I struggle with some turmoil, of which a failure to write is a symptom.

When at rock bottom, fiery desire to reach upward is easy to obtain. I am finding it more difficult to keep that same fire stoked now that I have some access to the things I desire.

My Mom has often cautioned me that money is not the key to happiness. The evidence of that statement's truth is becoming apparent to me.

However, money is a key to finding what will bring me happiness.

Unlike most (I presume), my goal in life is not necessarily to work to earn money. My intent is to earn money so as to obtain my preferred type of work.

The object of my pursuit is not money, nor even any thing material, but the career, itself.

After all, more times than not, a man is judged by his work.

What I fear, however, nearly more than any thing else, is one day enjoying a sense of comfort in complacency.

What if I love this new job? Many of the probable answers are intrinsically linked with consequences that frighten me dearly.

With some effort and the same dedication I give to everything I undertake, I can imagine that I may be able to obtain some level of significance and success in this position.

But then what?

What becomes of my previous dreams? What becomes of the man that physically depletes his self daily, driven by the persisting dream of a Green Beret?

Please tell me, when in one's life should success and an ability to maintain an otherwise satisfactory livelihood trump dreams, passions, and all the disruptions chasing both may cause.

I identified incorrectly, above, my greatest fear. Discovering an enjoyment of complacency scares me to the point of motivation, no doubt. My greatest fear, however?

My greatest fear is that I will forever be more a dreamer than a doer.

The Time Will Come..

2010-09-17T02:08:00.006+01:00

...I had an enjoyable conversation on the Metro this afternoon with two fellow South Florida alumni.

So much information and pleasantries were exchanged in so little time.

It occurred to me, after, that I have not had many conversations like this one since relocating to Washington, D.C.

While affable to those whom approach me, such as another alumnus at the U.S.F. watch party on Saturday, I have chosen temporarily the role of the loner.

I do not know if my friends back in Tampa would recognize the stare that I have maintained basically since moving here.

I have experienced such an inner feeling of satisfaction since relocating to D.C. Simultaneously, I genuinely feel this great calling, as if I am destined to do something really significant and meaningful while I am here.

The time will come. I truly believe this.

And, in the mean time, I am completely satisfied by the fellowship of my own thoughts and the imaginings of what possibilities may lurk.

They keep me wholly occupied. I feel a little as if I am possessed by my professional desires.

To be sure that I am fully prepared for what is next, I am sharpening my every proficiency.

My running has taken a turn toward the ridiculous. In the gym, I shattered a personal record and deadlifted 400 pounds five times. I am studying for the G.R.E. to ensure that I am ready if graduate studies await. I am even dusting off my previous desire to learn Russian as it pertains to certain career interests.

Tomorrow, I have a final sojourn, so to say, before I begin real adult life. I am visiting New Jersey to celebrate my Mother's birthday. I look forward to this upcoming week as it will include a rare period where my parents, my sister, and me all share time together.

Upon returning, I begin work at my new government job. I can not express how much joy securing this position of employment has brought to me. Seriously. This is why I moved to D.C. Someone is taking a chance on me, and with that chance, I am getting a solid salary, dependable work, and my own opportunity to prove my dependability.

I can not wait to begin.

And, yet despite this overwhelming happiness, and this relieving sense of a burden lifted, I still continuously encounter within me a passion being provoked and the accompanying feelings of want.

Every day still, I think about my failed attempt to earn my Green Beret now years ago.

I dedicate my life to physical fitness. I had an opportunity to overcome the one real crucible in my life that could have confirmed my dedication. And I quit.

Every single day I think about this failure.

I wonder if any level of success, or if excelling in any other career, will fulfill the void that has been created within me by my own coming up short in pursuit of becoming Special Forces qualified...

I'm kind of a prick, really...

2010-09-07T01:17:00.002+01:00

...When asked to provide an autobiographical account of myself, I struggle to do so with measured modesty or concision.

Relative to the experiences of others, I find my own 26 years to be more interesting than most.

Although I was born outside of Philadelphia, I was raised in rural North Dakota.

I graduated from high school in a class of under 50 students, but eventually matriculated to a college campus with an enrollment size that ranked within the top 10 of all universities throughout America.

I performed one of the military's most dangerous jobs in a city that, at the time, was the most violent in Iraq.

I have met the President of the United States and been given a tour of the White House by the First Lady.

At the beginning of August, I packed all my material belongings in a rental car and, with only a fragment of a plan, relocated 992 miles to a city I had never been and to a room I had never seen.

I achieved academic success, graduated Magna Cum Laude from the University of South Florida's Honors College but, yet, currently work a blue collar job, dedicating nearly 14 hours a day of physical labor to assisting others move – and I love it.

I look forward to time alone, listening to music and writing; yet, I also joined and enjoyed my time in a college fraternity.

I love Mixed Martial Arts.

I just completed reading “Brave New World” by Aldous Huxley.

My Mom is my best friend.

I have lived in Colorado, Georgia, Florida, Pennsylvania, North Dakota and, now, Virginia in the U.S., and also in South Korea. I have spent a lot of time in the deserts of Kuwait.

My life is dedicated to maintaining and enhancing my own physical fitness. I maintain just under 10 percent body fat, bench 300 pounds, squat the same, and deadlift 400. I run a mile around 6:30 and can do so nearly continuously. I eat to fuel my body and hardly ever for enjoyment.

I'm clearly far from perfect. Notably, I consider myself kind of a homely looking dude and a Philadelphia sports fan. In both cases, I claim no fault of my own by way of inheritance; mostly, probably, from my Father.

I was once a trainee in the 20^th Special Forces Group and quit.

I also failed in my opportunity in making the most of my time spent hanging out with whom I will always consider the most beautiful girl in the world.

And, while I should be embarrassed to admit such sources of motivation, I feel no shame in expressing that both of these personal failings encourage me daily. I hit the gym more intensely, and live life better, because of the haunting and daily thoughts of what I have lost.

I do not drink alcohol and have not done so in nine months.

I live frugally and will save $100,000.

I am passionate about my own advancement, professionally, academically, intellectually, physically, and financially. I am so maniacally devoted to these pursuits that I balance on the edge of madness.

At this precipice I only have room to include like-minded individuals dedicated to making the most of their one guaranteed opportunity at living life.

To best understand me and, especially, the current me, you need to watch this video in its entirety and allow yourself, regardless of your musical preference, to take in the full force of its emotion:

My life's essence is the fleeting moment of clarity captured at 3:59.

I have a characteristic that I have observed in no others, but have read to be shared among successful men:

Every thing in which I take an interest, I become passionate about. I do not like things in passing.

This trait manifests itself positively in regards to dealings such as physical conditioning and academic rigors, but hinders my relationships, especially with women.

In my adult life, I have liked one girl. And although nothing serious became of our association, to this day I still reminisce fondly upon it daily, maybe hourly, and probably more often than that.

It's been so long since I have been in this girl's presence, I hardly remember what she looks like and could not tell you if I would feel physically attracted should I see her again.

Yet, I think constantly about what I can do to improve myself so as to completely impress her if ever given again an opportunity.

I despise relationships and believe myself too selfish to ever desire one of my own.

I would give up everything for one with this girl.

I fear that I may never write anything of consequence and squander a talent given naturally.

Eminem once said, and maybe not eloquently, but certainly poignantly, that his talent “was like a 'F!ck You' for Christmas, [his] gift is a curse”. I feel similarly about my passions.

I can sincerely say that I believe myself close to obtaining that something great I have always anticipated for myself and have worked incredibly hard, sacrificing more than most, to prepare myself to achieve it.

Glenn Beck...

2010-08-29T17:00:00.001+01:00

...I am disturbed slightly, but enough to write, by the vitriol in which some are reacting to yesterday's D.C. rally hosted by Glenn Beck.

I am only a fan of Beck's in the same sense that I am a fan of President Obama's; I greatly admire individuals whom inspire others. President Obama has had this effect, clearly, and given what I observed on D.C.'s Metro yesterday afternoon, I would venture to suggest that Beck has achieved the same.

I will, with no shame, admit that I am power hungry myself, and respect individuals that successfully cull massive, practical, support.

Both Beck and the President espouse political and, in Beck's case, theological ideologies, that contain details of which I do not agree.

So, I can understand and even sympathize with those expressing their opposition to the message delivered by Beck during his “Restoring Honor” event yesterday.

The message is clearly subject for criticism, but the event itself is not; insomuch that the event is no different than the many that have preceded it.

The negative reviews of the rally that I find discouraging criticize the event as being simply self-aggrandizing for Beck. I summarily dismiss this line of criticism if it is leveled by any individual unwilling to categorize past rallies as the same.

If Beck's ego and personal goals were most sufficiently served by yesterday's festivities, then the same can be suggested of what was best served by the rallies held by President Obama during his campaign, for example.

Despite the difference in their political philosophies, the President and Beck share common motivation and, therefore, should both be subject to similar criticism.

The negative reviews I have read of “Restoring Honor” indicate that Beck was taking advantage of, and manipulating, a disillusioned segment of the American public.

If such a characteristic is negative, should not most rallies in this country's history be subject to similar criticism?

Was this not the same goal of then candidate Obama's campaign events?

I am left questioning the motivation for which some feel compelled to challenge Beck's intentions, and not those of political event orchestrators before him.

UFC 118...

2010-08-28T02:50:00.000+01:00

First, a note on frugality:

During the course of the past two full days, I have spent a total of zero dollars, and zero cents.

UFC 118...

I find that I am not quite as anxious in anticipating this weekend's Ultimate Fighting Championship as I have been for most all past UFC cards.

This is no fault of the fighters.

The main reason for my lack of enthusiasm is probably also the least rational. I was so excited for, and satisfied with, UFC 117 that I find myself lacking the needed energy to get myself back up for Saturday night's event.

I have been into the UFC since around number 50 and certainly have not missed a card, except one, since UFC 100. Unfortunately, the card that I missed was the one that featured the first bout between tomorrow's headline rematch.

This is another reason that I am less excited than others in seeing BJ Penn and Frankie Edgar clash. As I am an Army Reservist, I had drill the weekend when they first met and was too exhausted to catch the card. Having missed out on the excitement of the initial upset, I am less eager than others in anticipating the possibility of revenge.

UFC 117 delivered from top to bottom. Outside of its main event, the match I was most anticipating, Junior Dos Santos versus “Big Country” Roy Nelson, even kicked off the main card. This is a testament to every single match on 117 being solid.

For me, at least, 118 does not have the same firepower throughout the card.

That being said, it is not as if I am dreading this card. I love watching Mixed Martial Arts and 118 has some elements that grab my attention. For starters, a Diaz brother is fighting; and while Nate, to me, is less entertaining than Nick (proof after the close), I always enjoy the opportunity to witness either of them compete in a cage.

I am also looking forward to Damian Maia's bout. Despite last seen being tooled by Anderson Silva, Maia is also notable for triangle choking Chael Sonnen back before triangle choking Sonnen was cool. I love to see the Brazilian Jiu Jitsu masters apply their craft and, when Maia performs, we are all getting the opportunity to see one of the world's best Martial Artists create another one of his masterpieces.

What I am not going to do tonight is make predictions. Prior to 117, on Facebook and twitter, I presented my picks for all the matches on the main card. With some fortune (and a late applied choke by the Spider), I managed to pick correctly the winners for all five of the matches.

However, prior to 117, I also “felt it” due to familiarity with all the night's fighters. That is not the case with 118; I am definitely encountering some uncertainty. So I will save from prognosticating, save to say that I do believe, in the end, Penn claims the revenge he seeks against Edgar via victory – of what sort I am also unsure.

Finally, other than to tell you just how little I am interested, I am not even going to talk about the Couture / James Toney fight. I am, indeed, very little interested. As this is the co-Main Event, this may also be a reason contributing to my lack of enthusiasm for the card as a whole.

Since becoming a fan, I have watched the UFC at bars in Tampa and Orlando, Florida; Georgia, Colorado, and, via DVD, in Kuwait, South Korea, and Iraq. However, 118 is presenting me the opportunity to enjoy my inaugural, of many I hope, UFC cards in Washington, D.C.

If anyone has any suggestions as to festive locations that have a good environment for catching a card within the Nation's Capital, please leave the establishment's name here, as I am open to suggestions.

Thanks. And enjoy!

Oh... Nick Diaz, ladies and gentlemen (probably, as is his nature, Not Safe For Work):

Running is Rewarding...

2010-08-27T01:38:00.000+01:00

...I often run so far, so fast, that my feet become numb, with a feeling as if they are but distant members of my body. I develop a metallic taste in my mouth, thought becomes slower, and my vision becomes akin to what I have always described as similar to “staticy t.v.”. And, in that moment of feeling, despite pushing myself to the limits of my body's muscular and respiratory limits, I forget completely why others disdain this habit. Although at my body's extreme in effort exerted, I am, in my mind, at peace.

I am sitting here, now, basking in what remains from that feeling.

I had all but given up on running recently in an effort to gain weight. That changed with the adventures enjoyed two days ago.

And now I am back at it.

This afternoon, I went on a run. During the course of it, I decided to detour up the main commercial drag of Falls Church. In doing so, I passed a store titled in such a way as to be particular to my interests, Road Runner Sports. To my fortune, a sign in a window advertised that they were hiring.

My intention was to retrieve an application for employment. Instead, I was invited to speak to the manager. He entertained my discussion of interest, despite me being sweat-soaked, exasperated, and likely, overwhelmingly of a foul odor.

The discussion with “Bill” went well. He was a gentleman that I could describe with no more fitting term than “delightful”. We will be in touch.

I thought my day's running was completed. However, at some point later in the evening, I somehow stumbled across this quote:

"Every day in Africa a gazelle wakes up.

It knows it must run faster than the fastest lion or it will be killed.

Every morning a lion wakes up.

It knows that it must outrun the slowest gazelle or it will starve to death.

It doesn’t matter whether you are a lion or a gazelle.

When the sun comes up, you better be running."

And that was all it took; I laced up the old shoes and was on my way again.

This jaunt took me through a previously unexplored area of Falls Church. An exclusive area, the residences were large and beautiful. I wish I had taken my camera and, during some future run, I will.

While running through this tranquil neighborhood, I passed a couple walking their dog. They emphatically waved and passed a greeting. This level of pleasantry has been unknown to me since last being in North Dakota years ago.

I am absolutely satisfied with my decision to move up here, and also glad that I again decided to rededicate myself to my passion for running. It always seems to provide unexpected reward.

- Steve

Girls...

2010-08-26T16:45:00.000+01:00

...Mom, do not read.

I have long condemned the idea of committed relationships, with the exception of a single period, where I failed so miserably in an attempt to develop one of my own that it only solidified my opposition to the idea.

Also: although I guess I do not know if I have empirical evidence to back this assumption, I had always held that males are at the height of their, well, sexual ambition, I guess you can say, somewhere between the age of 18 through 24; a period I am now two years removed.

In an effort to maintain subtlety, I am going to choose my following words carefully: Since relocating to D.C., despite the details noted above, I have discovered that I have been much more ambitious in regards to the opposite sex than I had ever been previously.

Perhaps this is a repercussion of my current reading. I am presently endeavoring through Aldous Huxley's Brave New World, in which a future utopia (dystopia, maybe?) is described in which promiscuity is encouraged, and monogamy is a habit nearly sinful in its shamefulness.

More likely, my outlook on my potential success is at play in encouraging my recent sense of motivation.

Clearly, there is no shortage of successful and educated gentlemen in the D.C. area; there are probably more males of such type here than there were in Tampa. Despite this, and for no rational reason, I feel more comfortable with my chance at success with females in D.C. than I had ever in Tampa.

In comparative value, I may have less to offer, yet I am inherently more confident here; rationality, again, need not apply.

In regards to the opposite sex, I am shy by nature. I may, in fact, just be shy altogether. Surely, some sort of undiagnosed social anxiety would explain the otherwise hidden motivation I have always had to bettering myself physically via an extremely rigorous conditioning routine that I have maintained since as long as I can ably remember.

In so much that I am shy toward women, I should say that, despite being recently more compelled than previously, I am still just cresting my self-imposed obstacle obstructing my actual ability and willingness to approach attractive females.

Moreover, I feel that I am currently in a holding pattern of sorts. Having no steady employment, I feel I have little to offer any woman that I would potentially approach. While a more qualified Casanova may be able to sweep a girl off her feet with bread crumbs, I require a bit more in terms of material extraneously compelling

At the very least, I would like my first invitation to be to some experience greater than shared fries at Mickie D's.

In any case, now that I have completely exposed my vulnerabilities, I allow you to comment.

In relation to most, I consider myself somewhat of an alpha male. I am a war veteran, physical by nature, and never afraid to voice my opinion. Yet, here I am struggling with issues that I thought previously were the possession of only “weaker” males.

Also, I may have desired to digress further on this topic but this desire was trumped by an even greater one to maintain some level of civility on this site.

Thanks.

- Steve

Political Self-Identity...

2010-08-25T12:48:00.000+01:00

...Via twitter, I was recently contacted by the moderator of a website dealing with politically moderate, “centrist” if you will, ideologies.

His website, Rise of the Center, is available here. For lack of a better method to describe it, I will again call the site's political ideology “centrist”, although I believe its owner may disagree to the specifics that term implies. My initial impression is that the site is primarily concerned with liberation from partisan politics.

I am interested in this message, and wanted to share the link.

However, as I discussed in a recent entry HERE, I am unsure whether I would necessarily categorize myself politically as either moderate or centrist. Independent, maybe.

I feel strongly on all issues on which I stand; I am not centrist, middle of the road, nor moderate on any of the topics of which I feel concern.

I find myself either extremely conservative or, on some issues, quite progressive. This dichotomy on which I exist on both sides has confused my political self identity.

What's worse is that I believe the inability to self identify clearly has negative repercussions on an individual's political influence.

Although conversation for a different time, I recall a thread of emails I exchanged with an influential College Republican at my Alma Mater whom made a strong case as to why it was imperative to claim allegiance to one political party or the other.

But, alas, I feel uncomfortable in doing so. A close friend describes himself as a “Hybrid Conservative” on Facebook and perhaps I should as well.

I am initially persuaded to maintain my Republican allegiance for the main purpose of the continued ability to vote in G.O.P. primaries. This option is important to me if only because I typically find the candidate for a given office from the Right more palatable than his or her competition from the Left.

But a Republican through and though? I definitely am not.

Hopefully, with more writing, discussion with peers, and the magic of social networking, I can more clearly define my own political ideology in the coming months.

- Steve

How I Owned Huxley...

2010-08-25T01:54:00.000+01:00

...Via complete insanity...

It is clear to me that I often fail to exhibit the internal mechanism that prevents my fellow humans from acting upon the various innocent, but wholly irrational, thoughts that come upon them.

Tonight's activities were an example.

At approximately 7:15 p.m., I was overcome by the urge to read Aldous Huxley's Brave New World.

Upon being greeted by this desire, I immediately recalled encountering a boutique book store on the other side of town.

Via a quick phone call, I was informed that “Hole in the Wall Books” had in stock a copy of Huxley's Brave New World.

The obstacle that presented itself now was time. “Hole in the Wall Books” closes shop nightly at 8 p.m.

For approximately 5-10 seconds, I would surmise, I considered not trying to make it to “Hole in the Wall” before its time of closing. Alas, there was never any doubt.

Allow us to consider a few facts. I have no vehicle. “Hole in the Wall Books” now closed within an half an hour of the moment I had completed contemplation concerning this decision, and I had already ran a six mile trek earlier in the day.

In any case, I quickly changed from jeans to shorts, and laced on my rapidly becoming overly worn tennis shoes. I had this journey now in front of me:

Not much longer after, I was within the front door of “Hole in the Wall Books”. Admittedly, I was a more sweaty customer than they were surely accustomed.

I am now a proud new owner of two things:

This blister:
Aldous Huxley's Brave New World:

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Understanding Myself Politically...

2010-08-24T20:29:00.000+01:00

This sign was the first indication that I had run out further than I had first intended this morning:

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Moving on...

Since I have recently relocated to the Nation's Capital, I have been doing some thinking about my own political ideologies.

In this regard, I have discovered it increasingly difficult to categorize my own leanings under one predominate party title.

Here is my dilemma:

Given my personal employment situation, I understand as well as anyone the reality of the current economical condition of this country. In terms of fixing this problem, I believe it advisable to cut taxes for corporations, businesses of all sizes, and even on the most wealthy, whom may also be the biggest spenders.

My rudimentary understanding of economic principles suggests that such a plan would cause a sort of “top-down” path to recovery. If businesses are encouraged to grow and, in fact, do so, they need to hire more employees in the process. It seems a logical route to recovery.

What I favor above is conservative in nature and nearly, word for word, a current Republican talking point.

The following most certainly is not.

While I believe that markets are usually best left untouched by regulatory forces, I have recently discovered that this fact only remains true in a world free of corruption, in which we clearly do not live.

The market would be best left to self-correct its own faults, if it were not for the existence of very real individuals with negative, lustful, and greedy intent whom have both the means and desire to influence that otherwise free market to their own benefit at the expense of less fortunate consumers.

These people, the Bernie Madoffs of the World, take what should be a positive thing for all, a free market, and manipulate it in such a way that the flaws of laissez-faire become apparent to even the most ardent of believers.

My naivety now completely shattered, I currently support limited oversight of the mechanisms of the American economic system. Potential oversight that I find agreeable includes increased regulation by the Securities and Exchange Commission of the financial markets to insure their volatility does not aid in utterly destroying American prosperity.

Two related issues, both concerning the United States' economy, that I feel drawn to approach via plans influenced by the polar opposites in political ideologies; Does this make me a moderate, a centrist, or just confused?

Thanks.

-Steve