Well, I...uh...what had happened was...nevermind

I got lazy.  No other excuse.  I told you I'd be back much more regularly, but it looks like I lied...

Well, I won't promise to be back more often, but I won't wait 4 years to write another post.  Then again, some folks will say hearing from me once every 4 years is just about right.

From time to time, I get something on my mind and I really need an outlet. I could have used this blog a few months ago, it wasn't pretty here.  But I got past it, ready to get on with it. Like Nina Simone said,"It's a new dawn, it's a new day...and I'm feeling good".

Oh, by the way, I got a new gig!  After 15 years at the old spot, it was time for a change.  I am working for a great little company called Healthways.  It's a health and well-being company in the population management industry.  OK,before you freak out, we aren't doing anything sinister. Here is one definition:

"Population health management is the iterative process of strategically and proactively managing clinical and financial opportunities to improve health outcomes and patient engagement, while also reducing costs."

We try to make people healthier physically, emotionally, socially, and financially.  I am working with Genesis Physician's Group here in Dallas on reporting and data analysis for a Medicare program.  Interesting stuff, but I won't bore you with the details.  It's a groun-floor opportunity, and I do really love the work.

Old men need their res, so I'll say good nite for now.

It's a new dawn, it's a new day...and I'm feeling good.

A Snowball port-mortem...

Wow, what a weekend! An amazing experience with some amazing people. This was top 10 with a bullet…

Snowball Express is an organization that brings together children and spouses of fallen US military heroes who have died on active duty since the 9/11 attacks. The group I ride with, the Patriot Guard Riders, have supported the effort in Dallas during it’s run here. When I first heard about it from some of the other PGR members, I was told it was a ‘can’t miss’ event, so I was in.

About 1700 family members were to converge on Dallas 12/9-12/13 for a few days of fun, activities, and events ranging from Six Flags to a concert by the Lt Dan Band (Gary Sinise from ‘Forrest Gump’). Now I had intended to, for the most part, ride the escort missions, airport to the hotel, to the Mesquite Rodeo and such, but I volunteered to help with the picture project. We had a life-sized backdrop of a PGR procession with a couple of borrowed bikes in front. We dressed the kids up in leather vests, PGR do-rags and took a picture that had the kiddos leading the procession. It turned out pretty good, considering were doing it on-the-fly with no budget. The final tally…over 1000 pictures taken, and about 400 emails to deliver them. I sent so many that Gmail thought I was a spammer and shut down my account for a day!

Now, the amazing part. We had families of all colors and races, moms without dads, dads without moms, grandparents without moms or dads. We had kids ranging in age from just a few months to 17 years old. There were lines, technical issues, chaos and confusion and all the requisite frustration that comes with doing something on that kind of scale while long on visibility and short on experience. I saw not one show of attitude from child or parent. I saw not the smallest inkling of impatience. The only frowns I saw were on the faces of the older kids when their parents made them get in the shot, and those only lasted until they actually saw the picture. For the first time in a long time, I saw a group of folks that were genuinely grateful for the time and effort being put forth for them. The thank you’s were too numerous to count. Kids didn’t want to get off the bikes, but did anyway because they knew there were other kids waiting. Moms who vowed to never even TOUCH a motorcycle looked like naturals astride their trusty Harley’s. Ever seen a grandma biker chic? We had more than a few! My face literally hurt the first nite from smiling so much, and I felt I’d lose my voice from laughing.

We always think of our fallen heroes as giving the ultimate sacrifice, giving their lives to defend this country. They made the choice to serve, and for that, I am eternally grateful. But their families, especially the kids, didn’t have much of a choice, but the sacrifice is just as great. There’s no way to know what they have gone thru and given up unless you have had that kind of loss in your life. This program’s mission is to “provide hope and new memories for the children of fallen military heroes…” Here is an opportunity for these families to catch a little break, and have a little fun for a few days. Kids get to be kids for a bit, and single parents get a breather, and everybody gets to share with some folks in their same situation. You could almost see them relax as they walked thru the doors of the hotel Friday evening. It was a most excellent time.

Sadly, this was the last year of a 3-year run for Snowball Express in Dallas, Next year, it will probably move to another city, but hopefully it will return soon. And, when it does, I’ll be front and center, first in line to do what I can to help out. Like I said, and amazing experience with some amazing people…

Veteran's Day 2011

Long weekend…Veteran’s Day festivities at work, a PGR mission on Friday, and 2^nd half of the mission on Saturday morning. Standing a flag line gives you lots of time to think about stuff. I did some thinking.

What kind of person decides to join the military? What makes one willing to leave everything that they love and hold dear to go half way around the world and fight for a bunch of strangers? What makes somebody willing to give their lives defending us?

For many people, it was a family thing. Generations of young men followed in their father’s and grandfather’s footsteps, and enlisted in the military. Remember Lt Dan in ‘Forrest Gump’? Then there was the draft. If your number came up, then away you went. Heck, I remember when I was a kid; many a wayward young man was given a choice…jail or the military.

So what drove this young man, 1Lt Dustin Vincent, choose to serve our country? As I understand it, he had lots of reasons NOT to put himself in harm’s way. A new bride, married just 2 days before he deployed; an instant family, when he adopted his wife’s daughter. He studied engineering at UT-Arlington. He had his whole life ahead of him, full of possibilities. Yet he decided to join the Army, to stand the gap for his country.

Lt Vincent was killed in Iraq, and he was brought home this week. At the request of his family, the PGR was in attendance to honor him. The mission was a 3-parter. Riders provided escort from DFW to the funeral home on Thursday. I was in attendance on Friday evening for visitation, and I also was there for his service and burial on Saturday.

Like I said, standing a flag line gives you lots of time to think. It’s not hard work, unless the weather doesn’t cooperate, but on Saturday morning, it wasn’t an issue. A little wind, but nothing really difficult. Warm and sunny day. Great for just about any outdoor activity. We had somewhere between 20-30 bikes, riders of all ages and backgrounds came out in support. As I stood the line, I thought about what made this young man so full of potential trade it for a rifle and a good chance at having to sacrifice everything. I don’t know. I am glad that he did. Cars drove by the funeral home, and, upon seeing the flags, slowed down to a crawl. Many waved, many gave thumbs up. Nobody sped by. I actually heard car stereos being turned down as cars drove by. Seems that most of those people cared. Occasionally, I look at what’s going on in this mean old world, and I wonder if people really do care…about anything. As I watched the cars and drivers react to the site of all the flags and riders standing a post, I realized that many people do care.

Now we as a country have problems. We all know what kind of troubles we as a nation are experiencing right now. But let me be clear, if you want to point fingers and lay blame, go somewhere else to do it. This post is not the place. The point I want to make is that as long as people still care, then we have hope. When people turn out to honor a stranger, a fallen hero that we know little about other than he died fighting for us, there is hope. When people take a moment from their overly-busy lives to slow down and show a bit of respect the funeral of a soldier, there’s hope. When people stop and wait patiently as a fairly long procession to pass, there’s hope. And one of the ultimate signs, we had 2 10-year-old riders with us on Saturday. We actually have a young man that rides regularly with his grand father on missions. This kid’s mission total dwarfs mine! When kids that young can begin to understand what we do and why we do it, there’s hope.

So on Veteran’s Day weekend, when we celebrate the sacrifices made by our warriors, past and present, remember that there is hope. If we can put aside our differences long enough to realize that we are much more alike than we are different, we’ll be fine. We sink or swim together. Lots going on out there, boys and girls, and we are all we’ve got.

It’s been a long weekend, and Oz is tired. Sleep well, take care of one another.

Another mission down

I did an PGR mission Saturday morning. I woke up later than I had planned and scrambled to get on the road on time. The mission was in Madill, OK, and I wanted to take the scenic route, not the one I knew, so I figured to give myself some time to get lost and found a couple of times. The trip down turned out to be pretty good. Temps in the low 80's clear skies, and just a slight breeze. The maps actually were correct, and it was a pretty uneventful ride. If it wasn't so dry it would have been some pretty scenery.

As it turned out, I didn't need the extra time. I stopped at McDonald's to get a little breakfast, and i was immediately re-introduced to small-town America. As i rolled into the parking lot, I could see several groups of older men putting up flags along the main street in Madill. The fallen soldier was from Kingston, about 10 miles or so down the road, but the town seemed to claim him too. I guess the locals were expecting a bunch of bikers in their town on Saturday. I got lots of welcoming smiles from the people behind the counter, and lots of nods from the patrons in the restaurant. After I finished eating, an older lady came up to me in the parking lot as I was getting ready to leave. 'Thank you for being here today to ride in this parade for this young man. We really appreciate it."

Lt Joe Lee Cunningham was killed in Afghanistan on 08 August 2011. He was only 27, just a few months older than my oldest. He enlisted just a few months after 9/11. He grew up in Kingston, and was well known by lots of the locals.

I arrived at the church where the funeral was to be held, about 30 minutes before the briefing was to begin. There were already about 100 bikes there, and more rolled in at a steady clip. Flying solo, so I didn't know any PGR members that were participating. It didn't seem to matter. I was immediately approached by a couple of riders and received a very warn welcome. There were riders from all over the state, in addition to police from 4-5 different towns, county sheriff, Oklahoma Hiway Patrol, and units from several area fire departments. The briefing went on as scheduled we got our marching orders.

The riders took their places to form an honor line as the soldier's family was escorted to the church. We were 50 yards from the the town's main thoroughfare. Anybody that drove thru town traveled that road. 11am, Saturday morning...and you could have heard a pin drop. It was stunningly quiet. All of the town was aware of the service and it as a whole showed tremendous respect.

After the service, we mounted up, now about 175 bikes, and took our places for the escort to the burial. As we moved out down the hiway, I saw flags mounted on EVERY road marker. Businesses had flags flying with employees and customers standing out in 104 degree heat, Every intersection was blocked by volunteer fire department trucks from communities in the area. Whole families turned out to honor Lt Cunningham. It looked like everybody in town participated in some way. He was their hero, and they were there to honor him.

We all could take a lesson from these folks. We're all in this together. We're family. When one rejoices, we can all rejoice. When one grieves, we can all grieve. We mourn the loss of Lt Cunningham, but we can be made a stronger group from the bonds formed by the loss.

Thanks for stopping by.

July 4, 2011

Independence Day. Happy birthday, America!

Many, many thanks to all of those who serve, past and present, to make this day possible for all of us. We may not always agree with why our service men and women are where they are, but we must appreciate them for their willingness to be there. They deserve all the support we can muster. My family has a fairly long history of service, in WWII, Korea, Vietnam, and during peace time. Many before me have served, including my dad and brother; 5 uncles and at least 5 cousins that I can think of just off the top of my head. They served honorably and I am so very proud that they are a part of this country's rich history.

We should all take a moment to remember what this day is all about. It's not just a reason to cookout, have a beer, and watch some fireworks. 237 years ago, some rebels and true visionaries decided that there was a better way. Their decisions paved the way for future generations to have the opportunity to thrive and prosper in what was and continues to be one of mankind's greatest experiments. We have the privilege of living in the greatest country on the planet.Sure, we have our warts, but who doesn't? We have problems...really big problems... but where can you go that's problem free? We all have the opportunity and the responsibility to participate in that great experiment, and we must not squander the chance to be a part of it. Celebrate...enjoy the day. But let us not lose sight of what and why we celebrate.

Independence Day. Happy birthday, America!

Pay Day

You know, there aren’t many ventures that folks go into not expecting to get any reward from. That’s kinda how this whole PGR thing started for me. I didn’t expect to get anything tangible out of it, just the opportunity to maybe help out in some small way. Definitely not in it for the money. I get to buy all the gas, pay for the upkeep on the bike, give my time (ok, so my boss prolly thinks that the PGR come out on the short end with that!). Don’t do it for the recognition. The only reason that I write these notes is to release some of the emotion that these missions fill me with. Maybe one of you will want to get involved mission because of what you read here, but let me warn you, it’s really hard to ride in a procession with tears in your eyes. Actually, I’d rather fly under the radar. In fact, when I show up at a mission, I don’t even introduce myself with my last name. I’d just rather be known as ‘that guy’. So far, the anonymity is squarely intact. There’s only one guy in the group that calls me by name, and HE calls me ‘TJ’…hope that’s not code for ‘Total Jerk’.

I left work a little early today to drive to Richardson to stand the flag line for a young soldier killed in combat in Afghanistan on May 23. Pvt Andrew Krippner was only 20 years old, much too young to be taken from this world. He was the only child of his parents, who were, of course devastated by his death. They were so overwhelmed at the support given by the Army, local police and fire, and the general public, that our ride captains asked that we not approach Pvt Krippner’s parents to offer condolences. He said that they were, very appreciative of us being there, but he was not sure that they would hold up under the emotion that they felt. We understood completely, and we proceeded to take our places in the flag line.

It’s 5pm, Texas in June, and the sun is out, in fine form. Our watch is supposed to last until 7pm. As you are well aware, the sun ain’t down at 7pm, so it’s gonna be hot throughout. We had a good representation, so we were able to take lots of breaks, and water was plentiful. The people came and went at a fairly steady clip, many smiling and acknowledging our presence, a pretty typical scene. Then I noticed an elderly lady making her way along the flag line, stopping to shake hands with each rider. As she walked up to me, she was wiping a tear from her eye. “I’m Andy’s grandmother. I just want to thank you for standing for Andy. We all really appreciate it.” For a second, I could not speak. I almost broke down and cried right there on the spot. Here is a lady going thru the most horrific pain that I can imagine, her dear grandson taken from her in a most unimaginable way, long before his time. I told her that it was my distinct honor to be there. She walked that entire 500 feet of flag line and spoke to each of the prolly 30+ riders to express her thanks, out in that 97 degree heat. I certainly wasn’t expecting it, and I don’t believe anyone else was either. We all understood, and it would have been just fine if nobody had acknowledged our presence. But she did any way.

Today, I got paid…

Just a side note, Pvt Krippner’s funeral service is tomorrow in Plano. Word was that there were going to be some uninvited guests (Westboro Baptist) protesting at the service. One of our ride captains told us that in light of all the groups that were going to be present; PGR, police, fire, Army, various military support groups, and an expected large contingent of the public at large; the protesters had decided that it wasn’t in their best interests to be there. I'm gonna blame it on high gas prices in Kansas. Damned oil speculators...

And so it goes...

In the wind again this weekend, with 2 more PGR missions completed.

The first was the funeral of a WWII vet on Saturday afternoon. He was a Navy man and served in the Pacific Theatre on a transport ship. He was lucky enough to make it back home to enjoy the fruits that his service helped to protect. He quickly set about raising a family, married to the 'love of his life' for 65 years. He and his bride should prolly get a medal for that alone!

He was from large family and many were in attendance at the services. Several of them walked our flag line, personally thanking each rider for attending. One lady in particular issued the line of the day. As she thanked the rider beside me, she said, 'When we drove up and I saw all ya'll standing there, I thought 'I didn't know Uncle Wayne was in a motorcycle gang!' Then I remembered who you were, and I'm so glad that you came!" I almost bit thru my cheek...

Fast forward to Sunday morning at 8am. I and about 40 other riders and friends stood on an overpass in Grand Prairie. Each year, a group of riders travels from California to Washington DC to honor POW's, MIA's, and KIA's from all conflicts and all branches of the military, the 'Run for the Wall'. The group had stopped for the evening on Saturday in the area, and our PGR group was there to meet them. We set up flags all across the overpass to give them a proper send-off on Sunday morning, headed to Terrell where their numbers would grow to 500+ bikes and cages (cars/trucks). Now, this is the southern route of the ride, and there is another group that left at the same time, headed thru the central part of the US; Kansas, Iowa, Indiana, and such. Understand that each of these riders pays a small fee to participate and are responsible for all their expenses for the trip. They simply feel so strongly that we as a nation cannot forget the sacrifices made for us, they are willing to do it.

The RFTW group is scheduled to arrive in DC to join the Rolling Thunder rally on Memorial Day weekend. Rolling Thunder is an annual event, the first in 1988. It is named after a 1968 Vietnam War operation, and is meant to call attention to and remind us all that there are still thousands of soldiers that are still unaccounted for, and that we should make every effort to locate them and bring them home. Now, despite the all of the belt-tightening that the current economy has forced us all into, Rolling Thunder will prolly be close to 400,000 participants. That's a lot of folks, a buncha bikes, and you can see how the name 'Rolling Thunder' fits.

It was a most impressive site, but what most struck me about the whole thing was, as we waited for the RFTW riders, car after car, truck after truck, bike after bike, big rig after big rig, passed beneath the bridge with horn honking, waves, salutes, 'thumbs-up'. It was stirring to see so many folks supporting the Stars and Stripes. Maybe we aren't as bad off as we think.

A full weekend to say the least. Once again, not sure where this little trip will end up, but the ride is surely an adventure. I'm even toying with the idea of some equipment to make the baby what the PGR boys call a 'big flag bike'. More later...