No good

I got the news about Fort Hood while I was driving home yesterday, and spent about 500 miles punching the "seek" button and trying to keep up with developments.

It's nothing short of horrifying to lose our people here at home.  One of the biggest sources of stress for our Warriors downrange is the utter lack of a true "safe zone" anywhere in Iraq or Afghanistan.  That just makes it worse when the possibility of sudden and random murder becomes a reality here in the United States.

The last unit I supported in Iraq is a Fort Hood battalion.  Fortunately, if things have remained on schedule, they are still in Iraq.  And that's not something you say very often.

I was surprised at my impressions when I first heard who the shooter was.  I will leave the Islam issue alone - there's nothing printable I have to say about that.  What floored me (and surprised me by doing so) was the degree to which I was stunned that it was a field-grade officer who had killed Soldiers.

I understand that crazy is crazy, and evil is evil, and that neither crazy nor evil are ruled out by class, age, education, etc.  I also understand that the Medical Corps is not the same as the rest of the Army.  But an officer, particularly a goddam major, is expected to be a mature leader, for whom the care of Soldiers is a sacred trust.

Killed by someone who you automatically, by definition, trust with your life? 

This shitbag had apparently decided it was just too darn hard to bear the responsibilities he accepted when he took his commission.  He should have been drummed out of the Army way back when he started saying he was having issues with our national policy (imagine having that piece of work assigned to help you work through some war-related issues).

Bah.  I'm disgusted.  And devastated for the troopers killed and wounded, and their comrades in arms.  These people have done enough, and that more strength and resilience is going to be required of them to deal with events at their home...it's heartbreaking.

I give thanks, though, for the Soldiers on the ground who shut doors and barred the shooter from getting to further concentrations of people.  I give thanks for the Soldiers brave and quick-witted enough to begin performing care under fire while utterly without the ability to return fire.  And I give thanks for the warriors who don't go downrange, like DoD Police SGT Kim Munley, who ran to the sound of the guns and dropped the shooter killing her flock.  Munley is married to the military, accepted the responsibility of protecting the military community, and deserves to be considered a hero on par with any Soldier who runs into a hail of fire to save his comrades.

Setting an example

We look at the heartbreaking death of Noor Faleh Almaleki, a young woman in Arizona who, it certainly appears, was killed by her father for being "too Westernized."

It is unclear, at least upon cursory inspection, as to whether these folks were "Iraqis," or Americans who'd immigrated from Iraq.  It may not be legally different, but if Miss Almaleki was an American citizen, I'd find it a little irritating to have her referred to as an "Iraqi woman."  Because that makes it easier for us to distance ourselves from the savagery of an honor killing being committed in freakin' Arizona.

And I don't think we want to trivialize this sort of thing.  It is, after all, male relatives killing women in America.  That is, beyond just being awful, the perfect example of the sort of crap and horror that pretty much everyone ought to be able to agree needs to be left behind in the countries these folks leave behind.

Come to the US, you get economic opportunity, freedom from death squads, the ability to vote in reasonably un-rigged elections, public education for all your children.  You do have to leave some things behind, and they should include: disappearing people with whom you disagree politically; discarding refuse and excrement in the street; and, treating your female relatives like goats you're not allowed to eat.

I would assume, since we (as a country) went to the trouble of running this man down and bringing him back when he tried to flee to Great Britain, the intent exists to prosecute him.  Ms. Almaleki died last night, so I haven't seen yet the specific charge.

But I think we need to start making an example.  This sort of thing, it appears, is happening from time to time.  And, it seems, if left unchecked, this is a problem that will grow.  It has in Great Britain.

In the first half of this year alone, the government’s Forced Marriage Unit – which deals with honour violence because of its frequent links to forced marriage – had received 2,000 calls.

That's unacceptable in this country.  Sorry.  I'm a woman, and I have had no experience that leads me to believe my country will put up with that sort of savage behavior.

Now, oddly enough, it seems as if our federal government has done something recently that might give us (as a nation) a way to express our disapproval for this garbage.  Mr. Almeleki should, of course, be prosecuted by the state of Arizona as they see fit.  But then...(I love this)...has anyone looked at that new bit of federal hate crimes legislation the president just signed?

The Matthew Shepard and James Byrd, Jr. Hate Crimes Prevention Act gives the Department of Justice (DOJ) the power to investigate and prosecute bias-motivated violence by providing the DOJ with jurisdiction over crimes of violence where the perpetrator has selected the victim because of the person's actual or perceived race, color, religion, national origin, gender, sexual orientation, gender identity or disability.

The focus with this, particularly among conservatives, has been on the "sexual orientation" bit.  But...gender was also added as a criteria to screen for bias in criminal motivation.

I'm not, in the most part, a fan of the concept of hate crimes.  A crime is a crime - one murder is no worse than another.  But there have been times in our nation's history when state courts have refused to step up to the plate, and the federal government's willingness to prosecute what they could was the only honorable action taken.

The FBI arrested 18 men in October 1964, but state prosecutors refused to try the case, claiming lack of evidence. The federal government then stepped in, and the FBI arrested 18 in connection with the killings. In 1967, seven men were convicted on federal conspiracy charges and given sentences of three to ten years, but none served more than six. No one was tried on the charge or murder. The contemptible words of the presiding federal judge, William Cox, give an indication of Mississippi's version of justice at the time: "They killed one ni---r, one Jew, and a white man. I gave them all what I thought they deserved." [source same as above link]

It took 41 years to get murder convictions on the scum who killed those Freedom Riders.  I don't think we can afford to play around with the scum who come to our country and kill women.  If we need to use federal hate crimes statutes to stomp on the head of this particular rat with extreme predjudice, I'd support it.
 
We can use those laws that way ("would you have killed your son for wearing a Lakers t-shirt?  No?  Ok - hate crime!"), then take the newspaper clippings on those prosecutions, have them translated, and hang them in every Immigration office in the US.  I've been in some of those offices.  The lines are long, there would be plenty of time for reading.
 

No moss on us

Jack and I are, once again, on the road.  We're headed to Virginia to do some visiting.  Tonight finds us holed up in a Days Inn (I have yet to find a Days Inn that won't accept dogs) in western South Carolina.

One of us seems to think I got him his very own king-sized bed.  I will have to break his heart soon and explain that he'll need to share it.  The bed is a step up from our arrival, when he decided that he liked the bathroom.

I finally explained that only loser-weirdo dogs lurk in bathrooms, but that dogs who come out of the bathroom get treats.  Bribery - it works!

Halloween tricks

In a singularly horrifying twist of events, I will spend the afternoon at a craft show with Cousin R.  Craft shows are about as far from the Natural Habitat of Abby as it's possible to get, but...I guess it's the price I pay for jetting off to the gunshow with Cousin-In-Law last weekend.

Sigh.

You know it's a highly anticipated outing when I brush my hair and put on shoes and Jack shows no interest in the outing.  In fact, whereas shoes-and-hair normally sends him into fits of pleasepleasepleaseIwannago, this evolution has him hiding in the bedroom.

We muddle through

I woke up this morning, staggered to the door and let Jack out.  I jabbed the ON button on the coffee maker, and opened the fridge for the morning beverage. 

Oooh, I thought.  Cold water! 

I've been sticking a pitcher of water in to cool off.  So I grabbed the pitcher, only it didn't feel quite right...

See, if you move out of your house and leave your ex most of the extra kitchenware, keeping only enough to do basic cooking, you find yourself improvising containers.  Fortunately, I noted the weight difference before I poured myself a nice, cool glass of black beans with smoked pork neck bones.

I managed to cope with unchilled tapwater (I don't like ice cubes).  After some coffee, and some CNN, and some more wrestling with this goddamsunuvabitchratbastard printer I got, one of us was going a little stir-crazy.

OK - not a little stir-crazy.  Yesterday's rain kept us from having an Activity, so by this morning we had progressed to following me into that bathroom, stalking me with a slobber-covered Cuz toy, and glancing meaningfully at the leash while whining.

The solution was obvious - incorporate the dog into my run.  He had to wear his "training collar" to help remind him not to lurch hysterically after squirrels, but that did not impact his overall joy at getting out and about.  And, after 30 minutes, victory was mine.

A tired dog is a happy dog. 

Conservation

As a lifelong outdoor enthusiast, I place significant value on conserving resources whenever possible.  Water, in particular, is easy to waste.  Especially when hand-washing dishes. 

Fortunately, it's also pretty easy to cut down on the amount of water required to wash dishes by using an effective and organic pre-rinse system.

There ya go, team - Auntie Abby's tip on how you can do your part to save the planet.  Be sure to tune in for next week when we address Saving on Heating Expenses By Insulating With Dog Hair.

Wild and crazy - that's us

A job has come along, but it doesn't start for me for about a month, so Jack and I are just killing time.  I'd be totally content to just nap, but my sidekick demands regular activities.

We have established a routine.  I run every other day, and on those days he gets a neighborhood walk.  When there's no running, I take him somewhere. 

Yesterday I forgot a poop bag and had to return to the house.  This earned me dirty looks.  Once we hit the park, we troop around and look for squirrels.  This town has a fabulous population of energetic little gray squirrels, and in Jack's opinion they all need to be chased.

Mostly, he has to just look.  But sometimes - once in a while - when we're in corners of the park without cars and where there are no other dogs...I take his leash off and tell him to get it.  Yesterday he put the Fear of Dog in three or four of them. 

No squirrels have been harmed...yet.  But hope springs eternal.

Sunday routine

While staying with Cousin R, we got in the habit of doing a chicks-and-dog outing to Flat Rock park on Sundays.  So, this morning she came by and we loaded up Mr. Bouncy and headed out.  The park wasn't crowded and so (don't tell anyone) Jack even got turned loose to chase a couple of squirrels up trees. 

Some clever soul placed a Dunkin' Donuts on our route home, which was too much temptation to resist.

Because even Bad Dogs deserve their very own glazed crullers.

Then we carried on with recliner napping and football watching.  Not a bad way to spend a fall day.

(Blogger has decided to torture me by rotating horizontal photos to vertical when I upload them and

offering me no way to rotate the picture.)

I think we're done

with that whole shockingly expensive move-in routine, that is.  The last bit of it happened today, when you-know-who got a brand new you-know-what.

Yup.  Nice new bed.  And, of course, it can't just be the practical stuff.  What fun would that be?

Yep.  That's a Booda bone, which is even, according to its tag, steak-flavored.

Chilling

With my dog, in my recliner, with a beer, in my own place.  For the first time in... a long time.  It's nice.  Jack suffered some serious sadness when we departed Cousin R's this evening, as he'd developed quite an infatuation with her husband.

I've got some work to do to square this place away, but I think it will work out nicely. 

Things which are annoying

That first trip to Wally World when you’re moving?  You know, the one where you need salt, and mustard, and toilet paper, and coffee filters, and coffee, and oh yeah – a coffee maker.

 

I hate that trip.  I made it twice today. 

 

Tomorrow is download-the-trailer day.

Batting .500

I have achieved A Place To Live.  I’m not sure if it’s a carriage house, a mother-in-law cottage or, as Cousin Ruth suggested, Slave Quarters.  Given the demographics here, I don’t think I should make a habit of referring to it that way.

 

I believe I shall move Monday.  And, in keeping with my goals at this point, it is Cheap As Hell.

Proof of life

Wow.  Didn't mean to take a big ol' hiatus there.  After the drive to Georgia (Columbus, to be exact), I sort of fell into a blue funk of job/housing searching and...well, didn't really feel much like talking.

I've found neither a job nor a house, but I think I'm getting close on both of them.  Although Jack likes apartment living just fine, I think we'll be bailing on Cousin R and her fabulous husband pretty soon for a shack of our own here in the area.

The adventure continues, folks, but sometimes it isn't enough fun to warrant commentary.  I think the blue funk is lifting, so we'll do better. 

We're alive!

I know the smart people say one should post something each day, but we're just not that high speed.

Jack and I made the trip to Georgia with little drama.  Our only issue arose when I tried to pull over in a rest stop for a cat nap.  The dog who had managed to sleep from West Michigan to Birmingham was suddenly wide awake and on guard.  That wouldn't have been bad if, as instructed, he limited his guarding to, say, a ten-foot radius around the vehicle.  But no...everybody within a hundred yards required growling.  We pushed on.

We're staying with Cousin R, who, along with her husband, resides in a nice apartment complex.  Said complex has a pond, .75-mile running trail, and, best of all...a Bark Park.  Given the number of fabulous canine distractions, my sidekick has not had a lot of trouble adjusting to being an apartment dog.

While the getting's good...

I woke up this morning at Dad’s and wandered outside for a smoke.  Somewhere in this oak woods, some trees has decided it’s time. Leaves were falling.

 

On that note, my dog and I are headed south.  If you find yourself run off the road between Michigan and Georgia by a Jeep and a trailer being driven by a black lab…that’s us!

Offloading

In preparation for the next phase of movement, in which I will soon head south out of Michigan, I staged my very own tragic boating accident today.

Okay, so it really wasn't all that dramatic, but I moved all my long guns and associated crap into Dad's basement so they don't have to be sitting in a trailer while I go into the seriously transient, trailer-parked-outside phase of this whole thing.

Wild weekend

Yesterday was Mom's Birthday.  Mom, of course, rocks.  So I was left trying to figure out how best to celebrate such an auspicious occasion.

Why, by jumping out of a perfectly good airplane, of course!

That would be your author, coming in for a landing that, thanks to my tandem jumping buddy, was not a crashing disaster.  Mere seconds later....

Not a bird, or a plane, but Mom.

First time for each of us to do that, and it was a hoot.  We jumped from around 10,000 feet, had just under a minute of freefall, then about 5,000 feet of pleasant drifting to the ground.  We went with the fine folks at Skydive Allegan, who have a dog on their website and so were our first choice.  They were great.

World's Coolest Grandmother was on site (although she did not jump out of an airplane) to take pictures.  And, in a fabulous stroke of good luck, one of Mom's hospital coworkers is a private pilot who flies out of the same airport.  After our jump, he packed all three of us into his plane and took us for a lovely spin around West Michigan.

That, folks, is what it looks like where I'm from.

walkabout Grand Rapids

Walked around town this evening with Mom and the World's Coolest Grandmother, taking in some of the displays in a local public art contest.  Sometimes it's a little difficult to get large, public art, but it's usually interesting.  For example...

Foreground right you can see a sculpture in the Grand River that was descibed as "kinetic."  Obviously, a more traditional use of the term that the one that popped into my mind.  Apparently it was designed to spin or do some sort of weathervane type of thing.  Kinda pretty, but with no breeze, it was a little deficient in the motion department.  Then, atop the blue bridge, you can see...a giant table and chairs.  Okay.  Whimsical - I dig it.  There's also some sort of pink Gumby-like figure on the left side of the bridge.  That one I really don't fully appreciate.

We moseyed on, taking in a couple of other large, metallic objects.  And, as thing worked out, at that point we encountered some truly intriguing art that was not a part of the official city art project. 

Yeah.  See, that's a couple whitetail deer mounted on the back of a car.  Wearing hats.  According to Mom, they're often seen around downtown GR, although the hats may be a new addition.

New footwear update

I wore the wacky shoes around for a little bit last night with no weird side effects, so I took them out walking and running today.  They were already easier to get my feet into, although there is still that one "special" toe.

Mom has a nice stretch of sidewalk along the river here that provides a great place to walk or run, and plenty of grass alongside to try as well.

Walking in them was comfortable, although I could definitely feel myself trying to figure out how to place my feet - I felt as though I was slapping them down at first.

I think I have pretty normal feet:

One more foot shot for reference:

 OK.  So fairly normal feet, normal arches, etc. 

The running was...fine.  I'm not the world's greatest runner, by any means (I don't lift my knees enough), but I found them comfy at both a job, a slow run and a pretty good clip.  I tried them off the sidewalk and really enjoyed that.  I'm usually a little hesitant to run on rough terrain, as neither my ankles nor my balance are very awesome, but these shoes increased my awareness of the terrain variances enough that I felt quite comfortable.

My only concern is the lack of cushioning for running frequently on pavement.  We shall see about that.  I finished up with one small hotspot (pre-blister) on a toe, but nothing bad.  My lower legs have felt a little more tired than is normal with a fairly easy run, but we'll see if there was major muscle exhaustion when I get up tomorrow.

Thus far, they're interesting.

Joining the cool kids' pack

After reading LabRat's review, and finally being somewhere where I could go try some on, I picked up a pair of them thar toe-glove shoes.

I dunno yet.  I have on kinda-retarded toe that seems a little hesitant, but we shall see.