I experienced a new manifestation of a feeling I have had for a while.

I was in a large warehouse store the other day (red letters, rhymes with “bostco”) and I was waiting to check out. A gentleman walked by, a little older than I am, a little shorter than I am, dark complexion, with a splash of gray at his temples. He was walking with a purpose (he was a vet, I’ll tell you that right now. most vets walk with a purpose, unless they are on the golf course, but that’s another story…) and it wasn’t his coloring or his facial features that I noticed first – it was his ballcap. It was black, and along the side of the bill was stitched, in very small letters, “RANGER.”

“Ah,” I thought to myself. “A Ranger. Tough birds, those Rangers.”

Then I saw the tatto on his right upper arm.

2nd Btn Viet Nam 1966 1969

A rare bird, indeed.

Under his tatoo, the parachute insignia. Airborne Ranger.

Very, very rare bird.

I caught myself tearing up. I actually had a Tear of Pride in my eye – from seeing this complete stranger walk by with the earmarks of a distinguished and challenging service record.

TMBWitW looked at me, glanced where I was looking, and asked “Ranger? Isn’t that one of the elite?”

“Yup.”

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying. I’ve got a Tear of Pride in my eye. Marines can have a single Tear of Pride; it’s in the code.”

“I think I need to see a written version of this code.”

“They don’t write it on paper, they write it on your heart. That way you can’t lose it.”

Just then Ranger walked back by, behind us, and commented on my red shirt. I thanked him for his service, and said “Welcome Home.”

He nodded back, and as he turned away I could see he had his Tear of Pride in his eye.

Go here.

Order a shirt (or two, or five) and Wear Red on Fridays – Support Your Troops!

Unlike certain Senators from Massachusets, I don’t think the “American Fighting Man” is uneducated. Think about what it takes to become an officer – and if you think they are uneducated, then you’ve got the wrong picture. The typical member of the fighting forces today have more than a high school education; fewer and fewer are dropouts – even the ones that did not complete high school usually earn their GED before the end of their first enlistment. The average officer not only has a Bachelor’s Degree in their field of expertise, they have also gone to their branch’s version of Officer Candidate School (OCS) – which means at least twelve and possibly more months of intense instruction without the beloved breaks that college gives you. Plus, each and every member of the enlisted ranks are exhorted to enroll in and complete as many additional courses as possible. Not becasue they are a requirement, but because the more subjects you are exposed to, the better your ability to adapt to situations. The more knowledge you have, the more ideas you can bring to bear on a situation.

Unless you are stuck in Massachuesets, and being forced to serve the people as a Senator – then you can only see things one way – and that usually includes the thought stagnation behind “Bush is Wrong” and “Cut and Run” – certainly not the type of leadership anyone I associate with would want representing them.

I tell you, the folk back east are strange. Must be in the air.

God bless you all, Wear Red on Fridays, and get in on the Baby Pool!

Are you in the Baby Pool? 300 BlogMad credits are up for grabs!

Well, I finally got the back door painted. The outside isn’t trimmed out yet, but the door itself is painted.

I really couldn’t trim it out, because that would require using my air nailer. That requires compressed air. My air compressor’s start solenoid burned up while I was trying to figure out why the sprayer wasn’t working. Did I mention that I ended up painting the door by brush and roller? I need to invest in a name brand compressor, since I have already put as much into replacement solenoids as the compressor cost in the first place. You get what you pay for, every time.

Now all I have left is … well, there’s a lot left. One thing about owning a house – the maintenance, upgrades and changes never end. I guess the next thing I should tackle is that pesky valley leak on the roof. Seems a pigeon has had a bit of an identity crisis and built a dam in one of the valleys, and that has managed to back up water from our infrequent rains to leak into the garage wall; this wouldn’t be too bad except the garage is drywalled, so in order to fix the whole thing I need to tear off some drywall, trace the location, evict the pigeon, super caulk the leak, dry out the inside of the wall, then put fresh sheet rock up. Oh, and on the ceiling. I love sheet rocking the ceiling. It’s always an adventure. Maybe I should take this time to go ahead and paint the interior garage walls while I’m at it. Wait, that means I’d have to get a new spray gun too.

Darn, it looks like I have to make a run to Harbor Freight.

I love that store.

God bless you all, Wear Red on Fridays, and get in on the Baby Pool!

Go here.

Order a shirt (or two, or five) and Wear Red on Fridays – Support Your Troops!

God bless you all, Wear Red on Fridays, and get in on the Baby Pool!

Well, it looks like I may have survived another week.

First – in case you haven’t – join in the Baby Pool fun – WIN BLOGMAD CREDITS – link is on the left.

Second – be sure to Wear Red on Friday – that’s tomorrow, in case you may have lost track of a day or two (don’t laugh – I’ve done that!).

Third – well, there is no third, but every list whould have at least three items on it to be properly called a list.

I have small-group Bible study tonight. Should be interesting. Usually is. We’ve been working through the God’s Friends series and everyone is really enjoying it. I’m even learning a thing or two here and there.

That’s all I’ve got for now, so let me close with my usual litany of plugs:

God bless you all, Wear Red on Fridays, and get in on the Baby Pool!