Friday, February 25, 2005


our wondeful friends got a great deal on a condo and asked us if we would accomodate them to this little place down south of the border. We thought about it...did some financing...and for the was clear to us it was a bargain indeed. We had to pay for our flight and some food..lodging free.. how could we be rude and decline? So Saturday (this one) Michelle and Payton and myself are off to...Puerto Vallarta Mexico for a whole week. I feel the hardest decision I will be making I really hot from all this sun?? I really hot enough to jump in that pool??
So I will be returning back to the frozen tundra next will be my main priority to search for a blog topic while snorkeling and hiking and relaxing by the pool.
Please pray that we have a safe trip and a safe return and that our kids remain healthy and good in the care of our family members.
Found this quote the other day online...had to share it....
So I jump ship in Hong Kong and make my way over to Tibet, and I get on as a looper at a course over in the Himalayas. A looper, you know, a caddy, a looper, a jock. So, I tell them I'm a pro jock, and who do you think they give me? The Dalai Lama, himself. Twelfth son of the Lama. The flowing robes, the grace, bald... striking. So, I'm on the first tee with him. I give him the driver. He hauls off and whacks one -- big hitter, the Lama -- long, into a ten-thousand foot crevice, right at the base of this glacier. And do you know what the Lama says? Gunga galunga...gunga -- gunga galunga. So we finish the eighteenth and he's gonna stiff me. And I say, "Hey, Lama, hey, how about a little something, you know, for the effort, you know." And he says, "Oh, uh, there won't be any money, but when you die, on your deathbed, you will receive total consciousness." So I got that goin' for me, which is nice.

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

Don't Go Breaking My Heart

So I go over to Ferry Elementary School to get D Friday...we walk home, talk about stuff and eat snow(just the white stuff of course). Well it kinda broke my heart when I walked in the school and passed by the Kindergarten rooms...D's old teacher was bringing kids in from outside and they were all soo cute and bundled up and covered in snow. I did a dijeridoo class for them and some of them remember me..I looked at them and said, "Who's gonna go sledding when they get home?" and like five or six of the 10 little kids looked at me all bummed out and depressed and replied, "We have to go to our Dads house". I have friends that are divorced and they seem to be quite balanced and got married too young and had some problems or whatever the reason. It seems to me that kids these days aren't growing up with a whole lot of love. The friends that I do have that divorced must be in the high percentage when it comes to excessive love. The whole family seems to get along and everyone loves everyone else.
Why did these kids immediatly deflate in spirits when I asked them if they were going sledding? I am a best buddies are Dads.. our kids are ecstatic to spend time alone with us it seems. Are other Fathers dropping the ball?
Maybe to be a good Father you have to KNOW a good father. Some of my buddies came from a broken home or a disfunctional surrounding...who didn't..but it seems they all turned out o.k..
I am confused..when those little boys and girls looked up at me and said that I felt my heart kinda sink a little...I wish I could have them all over here...I'd take all of them sledding and then for ice cream...hey wait...I haven't taken MY kids sledding yet this year..but we eat our share of ice cream and play with forts and dolls and watch Jonny Quest and Scooby Doo together. This is a wakeup call for those of you reading this........
Your Mom and Dad probably told you this a long time ago....."They grow so fast" it will be a long time before I ever see my kids fret at the thought of spending time with Dad. Sure sometimes I might have a little gas that stinks real bad..or I might havta blog or check out Mc sites...or sometimes I might just be a little too busy.....but I can almost always say that I take the time to make some time for the's the little things that mean alot.

Take the pebble from my hand grasshoppa,
Peace Out

Saturday, February 12, 2005

Dude!! Where's my Drum???

Well..since I have completed the longest blog ever, I'll keep this short and sweet.
Everything is going great in Wade's World. My Friday Night gig is going awesome and everyone who has heard us wants us to come out with a cd....hhhhhmmmmm. That would be nice...if anyone wants to fund this let me know. Went to a Birthday Party last night for an eleven year old and he got some cool stuff. Guilty..I was envious of all the toys that are coming out nowadays...electronically advanced little kids. Striker told me yeasterday that some show on tv did a test to actually see who was more advanced on the computer or adults. To make a long story short...adults 1 kids 0. It seems when they were surfin' the information highway the kids dilly dally'd and stopped here and there and couldn't remained focused on the subject they were searching for. The adults were more prcise and conclusive with the findins that were listed. So if I play games on the computer AND use it for alot on informational, spiritual study and knowledge....I am figuring I fall somewhere in the middle of all this.
I am glad everyone enjoyed my comment from the Big Dog..he must be getting ready for the new arrival (baby). Kids are awesome..and we are potty training Lil'G. Too funny...messy but funny!!
Well..gotta bail.... Leaving with a song..
I don't want to work
I want to bang on the drum all day
I don't want to play
I just want to bang on the drum all day
Ever since I was a tiny boy
I don't want no candy
I don't want no toy
I took a stick and an old coffee can
I bang on that thing 'til I gotBlisters on my hand
Because...When I get older they think I'm a fool
The teacher told me
I should stay after school
She caught me pounding on the desk with my hands
But my licks were so hot
I made the teacher want to dance
And that's why...Listen to this
Every day when I get home from work
I feel so frustrated
the boss is a jerk
And I get my sticks and go out to the shed
And i pound on that drum like it was the boss's head
I really liked the chorus..but my boss isn't a jerk..he's actually pretty cool..
Peace Out

Saturday, February 05, 2005

His Gift

Due to the Roach calling me out on another war story and Big Dog lieing about my 3 comment minimum( check Dj& G) I have decided to throw another bone out for the masses of sometimes unsatisfied and disgruntled fellow bloggers( don't blame's human nature).
This is about my trip to Panama to disarm and lock up an individual known as Pineapple Head a.k.a. Manuel Noriega. Due to some of this story he is now in a lavish condiminium jail cell equipped with cable tv and a playstation. Isn't justice wonderful?
We had been on alert for about three weeks now...we were at the highest alert status which meant we had to be wheels up, in the aircraft, headed for our destination in 24 hours. I know this doesn't seem difficult but we are talking about a battalion of enormous population.
We had been through some practice drills..get your stuff.. let's go.. it's only 2:ooam..what? we even got on the plane and circled the airstrip and everything..practice makes perfect.
Nobody really expected to actually go to into combat.. we all thought it was another practice drill intended to give us some more euchre time in the hangar and maybe even some dominoes.
That was fine and great until they put us on the plane...took off and then started handing out live ammo and live grenades..hmmm this is different..they are really getting into this practice thing. More than a couple guys freaked out when they said we were going into combat...we had all been properly trained for this but it still seemed scary knowing that we might not all come back to California alive.
When we were issued all our live ammo and given our mission briefing they still left out the important thing of where we were actually going. When we landed they told us we were in was like 100 degrees (in the shade). We had been in northern California where is was 60-70 at the most. The humidity was a killer..sun beating down on us and literally trying to bake us. Oh yeah for all of you that think when it's nice when it's warm out...I forgot to mention that we were in full gear, full ammo, full flak vests, helmets,sleeves down, canteens full, black leather boots, and some of us were also carrying 5lb. containers of water. It wasn't pleasurable or comfortable at all.
We landed at an airstrip...not an was a strech of land that was flat and about a 30 minute drive to downtown conflict.
When we got out of the plane with all our gear on it felt like someone was shoving a giant blowdryer on high heat right in the plane stunck like garbage and the humidity was comparable to that of a small unfiltered greenhouse. We all sat in the field by the plane for quite awhile waiting for the total the hot baking sun. We had to walk about 2 miles to the vehicles that were going to transport us to the objective point...we call them duece and halfs..because they carry 2500 lbs of stuff.
That walk..that hot, humid ,stinky, carry 130 lbs. of stuff, and water was perhaps THE biggest challenge I have ever faced in my life. I was drinking water as fast as I could and then it happened...troops started falling out....medics were tearing off shirts and giving i.v.s right on the path. the toughest thing was being able to see the vehicles but it didn't seem they were getting any closer. More and more people started falling out with heat exhaustion and heat stroke...the medics had their hands full and when we finally did make it to the duece and halfs we were about 100 people short. I continued to drink water ..water...water..our medic was still with us...we thought that if we made it to the transporters it would be better. We were wrong..when we got to these vehicles we had to sit and wait for the fallouts to catch up and regroup. There were no tops on the vehicles..we were in combat...we had to position our weapons to the outside of the vehicles and watch for snipers. I kinda blanked out at this point...maybe I drank too much water or my brain was cooking underneath my kevlar helmet..maybe just maybe He was carrying me..He does that alot when I am not strong. I remember them dragging a couple of troops underneath the trucks because of the shade and giving iv's. I continued to drink water.
We finally startet moving and we were all thinking that maybe a breeze would rejouvenate..maybe the wind from the ride would cool. NOT..when it is hot out..rolling your window down doesn't all.
We parked and walked (without any medics) about 1.5 miles to our post..I was spent..I was carrying the radio for the Lt. and it ain't light to say the least...when we reached our post next to the embassy..we had about 15 troops out of medics..very little supplies. The Lt. and myself and another squad were the only ones in our platoon to make the entire distance to our post...another ten feet...another ten's all I could think of..any more than that and I honestly can say I don't think I could've made it.
We got to our post...I sat down in the shade and my Lt. went to check in...I was outside next to a phone booth sitting on the ground pretending like I was standing guard..I was miserable...nothing in this world would've made me feel better than an airconditioned room and a bed to lay in.
Most people in Panama were glad we were there to stop the drugs..the police..the judicial corruption...pineapple head. I was sitting there resting..and a little Panamanian boy about 5 came up to me with ice cold bottle of Coke..the bottle cap was still on it and sweat was dripping off the glass bottle. He smiled and I smiled the best I could and I accepted my generously given gift with a head nod and a thank you dude. I put that ice cold bottle on the back of my neck and it felt soooo goood. I cooled down a little ...popped the cap...and drank it down faster than Mean Joe Green....never saw that kid again...hmmmmmmmmm