_blogging_

Hello everyone,
like Yogi Berra once said, “You can see a lot just by observing…
Over the last few weeks, I’ve noticed two major factors about this blogging phenomenon.
1 – Entries don’t necessarily need to be very long. Many can get posted every other day – or even daily… to discuss the topic of the day from national or international news. This method becomes more of a long tweet … I am not a tweet user; I don’t have a Facebook account either … but that’s a topic for another day.
2 – The invitation to comment isn’t necessarily an invitation to engage the person is a conversation. Both blogs I’ve commented on in recent weeks have yet to bring a response from the owners of those blogs…

Both blogs I have don’t create any real discussion between myself and the viewers who come by to visit…
It appears that if one is interested in having discussions with like-minded people, perhaps blogs aren’t the best choice… hmmm. . .

Until that time … Earl J.

… started 04 …


Life lessons bring awareness, aggravation, and acceptance . . . it’s the story of my life…
Ignorance is bliss – and I’m as happy as a clam. Following the simple, quiet life without a care in the world.
As I begin to realize how good I have it – life happens and blows it all away.
* * *
Being invisible doesn’t happen overnight… it takes a lifetime of preparation and practice … for me, it all started on Maui, being the son of an overwhelming character with an intimidating presence.
_ _ _ _ _
I grow interested in sporting activities in middle school and begin to attempt to fit in on team sports…
I’m big for my age; clumsy beyond help.
In school and out of school, often my attempts to get in the game meet the leaders who choose me as a last resort;
or
on more than one occasion, submit their permission to have me play for the other team with a wave of their hand
and a quick “You can have Earl” … (sigh)
I’m clearly visible, but appear to be of no benefit to a group pursuing success.
* * *
Upon being drafted in the late 1960s from my wonderland in Mountain View, California to come home and get inducted into the US Army,
the lady at the draft board looks at me and then my dad standing along side me … she hesitates a bit and says,
“Oh Ed, is this your son? If I had known that ahead of time, we could have worked something out.”
I’m now beginning to slip into the land of the invisible… a son of my popular father who no one knows… (sigh)
* * *
I go on a short overnight bus trip and mission with a member of an elite group of soldiers in the late 1970s.
I’m part of the group, but in the communications section, so perhaps not fully an accepted member of the group on
the bus.
We stop for dinner before proceeding unto a secured area for briefings on aircraft design and architecture.
Instructions are to return to the bus at 6:45 or the bus leaves without you… I check my watch to insure I’m
synchronized with the guy in charge… excellent.
I pick a place – the group goes in the opposite direction as if to indicate that they don’t care where they go,
just not with me.
I get back to the spot at 6:40 – the bus is gone… (sigh)
I’m left stranded by thirty members who will declare they solemnly believe in the “no one left behind” philosophy … (sigh)
The terms special and elite don’t necessarily include camaraderie and brotherhood…
* * *
I believed things might go differently with Christians who profess caring and fellowship to all who will listen.
I recommend to a youth pastor that with his interest in sports, perhaps he should organize a golf outing for the golfers
in a church I attended after retirement from the military in the 1990s. He says he’ll consider it.
The following Sunday, as we’re preparing for the services for the day, the youth pastor tells me that he has three
foursomes for the coming Friday and asks me if I’m interested. I had to remind him, quite pointedly, that I was the one who
mentioned it to him in the first place… so now, I’m the 13th person in a group that needs to ultimately get divided into
a multiple of twos… (sigh)
People hear me talking, but believe it’s only a voice in their head…
* * *
The beat goes on…
Today, at what I believe to be my last day of formal cardio-rehab classes at the hospital, I begin the routine as I normally do;
which is different from the final day routine I’ve seen a dozen people execute in my time in the program. I thought perhaps
because the group is so large, they’re waiting until the others get settled in their routines before handling my final day tasks.
About halfway through my second exercise routine of the day, I indicate to the nurse that I believe today is my last day;
perhaps because it is quite plainly indicated on the daily workout sheets printed an issued for each day we attend class.
Upon checking with the senior nurse in charge, she admits it indeed is my last day … the rehab therapist comes over and
indicates that we will finalize my participation on WED… (sigh)
It appears even when I’m in a special care program of less than a dozen people … I fade away and become insignificant … (gee whiz)
* * *
I’m not complaining, you understand …
I’m just hoping that my tune-up in life will carry through to the afterlife …
Perhaps I can sneak into heaven a day before the devil knows I’m gone.
* * *
I didn’t plan to become invisible while I’m still walking the earth, it’s just the way it turned out. . .

Until that time … Earl J.

… I am me …


Just a bit ago, 1995 or so, during my time in the classroom, I composed this punishment essay for those rowdy students who appeared disruptive and dismissive of others’ success and achievement.
I give them a copy and the offender makes 3 – 5 copies in his/her own handwriting. It may come in handy for teachers or librarians from time to time.

I am me . . .

Everything that I am is uniquely me.

No one who ever lived in the past, who is alive anywhere in the world today, or who will ever live in the future will be exactly like me. Everything that has happened to me in my past contributes to the new person I will be tomorrow. I have complete control and responsibility over my actions, my thoughts, my emotions, my behavior, and my intellectual growth for building “the new me.”

The setbacks and difficulties of the past and the obstacles of today prepare me socially, intellectually, and emotionally for my successes in the future. People all around me want me to be successful in life, but success only comes to those who truly want it and are willing to work very hard and very long to achieve it.

I must always remember that success is a lifelong journey and NOT a destination of any kind. People who are successful in one area of their lives continue to try to be successful in everything they do. My success is defined by my own desires and goals in life, and I can set them anywhere I so desire. I do not threaten anyone through my pursuit of personal success and should not feel threatened by anyone else’s personal success. In fact, just the opposite is true, the more people I help to attain their personal successes, the closer I get to accomplishing my own personal success.

    Maui_part_01

    ... Maui No Ka Oi ...

    Hello everyone,
    I thought I might create a bit of a long-distance travelogue of sorts from the old days when things of that sort were popular.
    I’m thinking of Maui … (what a surprise) … here is the first installment.
    To classmates who may happen by, feel free to comment and add bits of video or additional comments from our growing up there…
    I think it could be a fun project for all of us as the next reunion draws near…

    Go visit vimeo here …

    MauiPart_01

    OR
    watch it from viddler here …

    Maui_Part01

    Let’s see how this looks and plays. . .

    Until that time … Earl J.

    Screams

    ... father_daughters ...

    I wrote this short story for an NPR contest after the deadline … so I thought I’d share it here…

    Screams
    * * * * *
    Some people swore that the house was haunted.

    When the trio moved in, loud screams were heard at all hours of the day; more often late at night and early in the morning before the sun came up. The screams were often followed by loud giggles and outright laughter.

    Quite obviously, those untimely sounds of joy were the result of the two young daughters briefly vocally afraid and then thoroughly entertained and humored by their widowed father.

    People shied away from their usual friendliness to newcomers because of the age of the younger daughter who was wheelchair-bound. Many who saw her sitting in the second-story window from time to time guessed she was probably 8 or 9 years old. She never ventured from the house. Her older sister appeared to be the caretaker when their father appeared to shut himself into the study on the lower level to perform what many suspected were his duties and tasks as an artist and breadwinner.
    In addition to avoiding the apparent tragic details of the young girls and their widowed father, neighbors also were never quite sure when was a good time to call so as not to interrupt whatever might be going on inside.
    The delivery boy rarely made it more than three or four steps to the kitchen table during his Saturday morning deliveries before he was paid, thanked, and politely whisked out again.

    The laughter of the young girls was so innocent in their joy and so contagious in their delightfulness that people from blocks around the house often strolled slowly up and down the street in the expectation that they might catch an earful of those wonderful sounds which always seemed to raise the spirits of anyone who happened to hear them.

    The neighbors would often speak of the laughter they heard the night before and compare it to the laughter they remembered most fondly. The enjoyment these two young girls brought to the neighborhood without leaving their own home was quite extraordinary. It was often the topic of discussion and, quite literally, the talk of the town. The phenomenon grew so popular that people would bring their recording devices just in case they could capture the laughter and be able to listen to it in times of stress and despair to cheer themselves up. They often pondered the close-knit structure of the partial family who never ventured outside the house yet seemed to enjoy life fully, and the company of each other quite completely.

    Early one morning, after a night of unusually frantic activity and boisterous screaming, giggling, and laughing coming from the second story, an ambulance arrived, took on a patient without urgency, and drove off as silently as it had appeared.

    Shortly thereafter, the twice tragic father and his sole surviving daughter left town as uneventfully as they arrived. No one ever heard from them again.

    Quite suddenly, on what many suspect might have been the night of the little girl’s tenth birthday, the screaming, giggling, and laughter began again.

    Nothing was ever the same again after that.
    * * * * *
    Earl J. Moniz

    … getting in shape …

    ... blockages ...

    My recent surgery punctuated my lack of activity over the last decade or so.
    Upon completion of my recuperative period at the house, I thought I might be able to get myself moving and lose a few pounds in the process. Nope … not me. It appears no matter what I plan, at any point in the future, the time comes and goes, and I find myself sitting in front of the computer wondering where all the time went… (sigh)

    So, when the recent opportunity showed itself to get outside help, I took it … it is in the form of 12 weeks at the rehab center of the hospital where the surgery was performed. I then get a free month at their Health Plex … with a great looking pool (which is really why I’m going through the entire ordeal) that I can’t wait to dive into once all the other junk is complete. Each workout includes heart monitoring, scheduled lessons about diet, stress, biology, and physiology. It never hurts to get refreshers about all that stuff as well as the most current science and health concepts and recommendations. After I’m cleared of any complications of movement or performance, I’ll get to play in a wonderful health facility – with indoor pool … woohoo…!

    One of the lessons last week included creating and reaching goals. We each had to come up with one goal for ourselves before the class ended. I set a goal of walking for 15 minutes each day – either outside in the beautiful North Carolina weather, or inside on our Gazelle. I’ve done this sort of thing many times before – much like New Year’s resolutions . . . (sigh) This time, however, I’m committing myself to buckle down and get this one accomplished each day… I know I need to get serious about this sort of thing.

      In fact, I’m so serious this time around, I put a half-hour time limit on completing my daily 15-minute walk… ( ba-doom-boom! lol )

    Any of you want to share any goals or objectives you’ve set, but for some reason can’t quite reach? Or perhaps you’ll share a particularly difficult goal you finally reached along with the final circumstance or solution that put you over the top…?

    Keep safe, keep the faith, and don’t let the rascals grind you down.

    Until that time… Earl J.

    Review of Canon Digital Rebel XSi SLR Camera /Lens Kit

    Marley refuses to acknowledge the ghost...


    Perfect digital camera for the price; it’s my first Canon still camera, and I am completely satisfied with it. I ordered it last week (WED night); it shipped the following day (THU afternoon); I received it on MON – 5 days after ordering it on the 7-10 day free delivery. Adorama is proving itself a reliable and dependable source for their products. The camera is in excellent condition – with the refurbished tag on the bottom as the only indication that it is a used camera.

    I was also completely thrilled to watch both DVDs that arrived in the Magic Lantern Guide specifically for the digital cameras (one general shooting introduction and the other is XS and XSi specific). I purchased my first 35 mm camera back in 1971 – a Minolta SRT-101 – and in the two days I’ve had this Canon, it completely reinvigorated my interest in still photography. Adorama, thank you very much.

    It is a lightweight camera. The included Slinger camera bag (branded Adorama) is just the right size with lots of zippered pockets for storing things associated with the camera as well as removable padded pouch liners in the main compartment so it can be customized very easily. I don’t think I’ll go anywhere without grabbing the camera bag now.

    I’m very surprised at the versatility of the camera. I haven’t gone out for any shooting projects just yet, but I know the weight and capabilities of the camera will impress.

    I believe when I get ready to upgrade to something a bit more expensive, I’ll come looking for a refurbished item first… and I’ll come to the Adorama website; their selection and prices are better than anyone.

    Until that time … Earl J.

    … 1884 …

    Please excuse the grammar; it is a direct reproduction of the original.

      Pacific Commercial Advertiser – 1884

    The steamship SS Bordeaux, left Madeira on July 22, 1884, and after the ship set sailing away from Madeira, it was found there were 20 stowaways aboard. During the trip to the Islands, there were 12 births and 72 deaths; 69 were children under the age of 10 years old. Two of the adults died of consumption, the third adult was handicapped at 19 years of age and died the day after arrival in Honolulu at 5 o’clock PM, after suffering from consumption for nearly 3 years. This steamer has a greater carrying capacity than the SS City of Paris, but she brought a fewer number of immigrants. The mortality, it is claimed, was due more to the introduction of measles at the port of Madeira than from any other cause, although the change in climate might have caused some of the difficulties. The trip of the vessel was made as follows:

    She entered the Straits of Magellan, passing Cape Virgene, August 19, and cleared Cape Aeiler and she entered the Pacific Ocean on August 22, 1884. The ship’s baking apparatus having been broken down, she went to Coronal, Chile, for biscuits on September 17, then sailed again on September 19, and arrived in Honolulu on October 2, 1884, making a trip of 72 days from Madeira, anchored at Wilder’s Wharf at 9 o’clock AM.

    Dr. Parker of the Board of Health and Dr. Henri McGrew, the port physician, visited the vessel, and after an examination, found no evidence of contagion. They learned that the greater part of the mortality was noted when the vessel was crossing Cape Horn, mainly attributed to the cold atmospheric effect on those who had measles. Through the efforts of a new port captain at Madeira, the Bordeaux was allowed to bring only a portion of the immigrants who were prepared to sail to Honolulu. About 400 Portuguese were left behind. It is expected that another vessel will be sent from London to bring the the remainder of them here. The circumstances were caused by a change of interpretation of the regulations for emigrants, which say the the vessel may carry two persons (adults) for every 5 tons of register. In this case, the authorities have decided that it means 2 persons for each 5 tons of space appropriated to passengers. Should the Japanese immigration of laborers prove a success, and plenty laborers, of a satisfactory quality be introduced under it, there will be a cry to stop the spending of money on the introduction of Portuguese. This will be a grave mistake although we have to confess that it will be a natural one because it is true, that to the planter who only looks to laborers so favorably known. But, should the Portuguese be discontinued? The first cost is high, and the wages of the men are high, but taking the average cost of labor performed by the men, women, and children, they may be cheaper than any other class now here.

    Portugal


    From the steamship “City of Paris”, it was a good fortune to get 14 families. The average wage of the 14 men are 68 cents per head per day; to this must be added, say 15 cents per day for the first cost of interest on the same, etc. that made the cost for the men 83 cents per day. Too costly, no doubt, but beside the men, we have an average of 20 women, girls, and boys doing good work, at an average daily wage of 31 and a half cents. That gives a total of 34 workers at an average cost of 52.7 cents per day.

    Chinese laborers are getting 65 cents per day where I write from, and on some plantations they are getting out of the light hoeing much more (and on a well kept Plantation, there should be no heavy hoeing) there, women and children will do much of the work in a day as a Chinaman, and at stripping cane, many people believe they, the women and children, do better and more!

    Hawaii


    Again, with the 14 men, there are 20 women and children working, some 25 other children too young to work, but who will eventually, as they grow up, become the most valuable of the plantation hands. Furthermore, every Portuguese family consumes about 3 bags of flour per month, besides a variety of other California produce, and help to make up the balance of the trade with the United States, and thus strengthen the treaty.

    United States


    My thoughts over this article brings me to the present day. Even as much as we’ve progressed over the ensuing years, we still have people coming to the West (and specifically to the United States) for better opportunities for themselves and their children… fully aware that it only offers work for pennies a day and not much chance of success … but those with the will to succeed often do, and that is exactly the opportunity they desire when they leave their home countries to come to America. Imagine that … (wink)
    They were at sea for 72 days and witnessed 72 deaths onboard the ship… how dedicated must they have been to get on a ship where someone died every day of the voyage. They didn’t know that when they boarded, but the possibility of death is always there and understood ahead of time – in addition to other calamities (pirates and sinking by the weather) that might ruin their entire plan.
    I thank every ancestor of mine for having the courage and fortitude to make the journey on my behalf … and never seriously consider going back regardless of how difficult it must have been through those days and beyond.

    God bless America…

    …Sony VEGAS Pro competition…

    Hey VEGAS editors,
    here is my first go-round of the competition score sheet.

    Take a peek if you’re interested and give me some feedback…

    vegas_compete (WORD format)
    vegas_compete (OO format)

    The feedback can go here in the comment box, OR, if you’d rather not register here, post it on the Vegas Pro forum …

    Until that time… Earl J. Continue reading

    … Mike Kalua …

    ... The Ole Man and The Sea ...

    Yesterday (1 JUN 2010), a friend of mine called me just to say hello, and to tell me that he was thinking of me.
    * * *
    Mike Kalua and I grew up on different islands together (grin). He was a son of Heeia – the southeastern shore of Oahu near Kaneohe; I was a step-child of Maui – the rebellious type who might do well to spend some time in the military… (grin) In reality, I was drafted in 1968.
    * * *
    We met in 1968 at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, and our relationship grew over poker games he and his roommates hosted at their house in Spring Lake. We were both students of the Special Forces Training Group… he was a class ahead of me in the communications course – learning Morse code and tactical military communications. When he graduated, he went to the 7th Special Forces Group (SFG) which concentrated on the Central and South American regions. A bit later, I graduated from the communications course myself and was assigned to the 6th SFG.
    The poker games were held at a two story home in Spring Lake that he was renting with three or four other island boys. The games were held every weekend… or every other weekend… I can’t recall.
    After a while, the games quit running (the crowd that gathered there was getting out of control – 20~25 drunken SF students and group guys), and Mike and I lost track of each other.
    * * *
    He called me over to his car while I was walking on Ardennes Street on Fort Bragg one day as he was driving by, and he indicated he was heading for Panama. I wished him well.
    * * *
    Skip forward to 1977 (I’m married to my wonderful Okinawan wife, Miko, after my first tour there, and we have a son, Joseph, 18 months old) … I met him at Fort Bragg by accident. I asked him what he was doing up north so far from home (Panama); he said just a bit of training. At about the same time, I interviewed with a fellow named Steve Mozian, who was looking for highly motivated and innovative communications guys to join him in a classified assignment right here on Fort Bragg. I was pumped to be involved and reported as ordered in a few days.

    There was Mike … that rascal. Steve had recruited him from Panama …
    * * *
    We spent a couple of years there building a communications section to support the tactical maneuver elements and links to other command and control elements not immediately deployed with us (higher headquarters).
    I met many good guys there who aren’t with us any longer – Mike Hendrick, for instance. He complained of fuzzy vision before a major qualification exercise (we had to pass certain national standards to become fully authorized to perform our missions of a sensitive nature). Upon further review and testing at Walter Reed Hospital, he was diagnosed with a cancer in his brain that was sometimes visible to MRIs and nowhere to be found in other MRIs. Mike Kalua, Dave Pitts, and myself drove up to escort him home. He had lost all his hair. He asked me not to tell Miko (who cut his hair – she was a practicing beautician by this time and doing a lot of the guys’ hair)…

    A few weeks later Mike Hendrick passed on.
    * * *
    Randy Bullock was another character. He was still assigned to that classified organization when he had a heart attack and died several years ago. He was a crazy guy who was a terror on the volleyball court – especially to the guys on the same side of the court as he – he wanted to play anything within 10 feet of him and would crash through teammates to make the play… !
    * * *
    John Yancy was one of the tactical maneuver guys who was a former Special Forces communications specialist and a Vietnam veteran. He was a red-headed guy who ended up with the nickname of Robert Redford. He once stumbled into the commo section during a deployment by mistake and ended up in the same bed as Don Chrisman. They were both so drunk, neither one complained…!
    John was killed in an accidental shooting on a range in the early days of our organizational development.
    * * *
    Well, Mike Kalua joined them all yesterday. Not 45 minutes after he called me, Margie (his wife) called to indicate she was on the way to the hospital with Mike – they had called for an ambulance. Later in the day, I called his house and his youngest daughter, Malia, answered – when I inquired about how her dad was doing, she told me he had died.
    * * *
    I have not doubt where he is and what condition he is in… he had two heart surgeries several years back and was on kidney dialysis three times a week for the last two or three years… I’m glad he’s now whole and in perfect health.
    I know he is fully restored and enjoying a new beginning and preparing to welcome all his friends when it’s our time, and we get called home. So, although it is a time of grief for those of us who will miss him dearly, it is comforting to know his pain, anxiety, and agony are over, and that he is reaping his eternal reward for all the good things he did here for others – and not necessarily only those who knew him, but many who depend on people like Mike Kalua to keep our streets safe and our country free.

    God bless Mike Kalua . . .

    View a short 90 second video here
    He is working a field day with the Cape Fear Amateur Radio Society and his son, Mike Jr.