I’m Not Dead Yet…

I’ve been away for awhile pondering a great many things. But, this seems as good a time as any to come up for air.

I’ve been trying to keep my mouth shut about this [shooting in Aurora, CO] as all of my favorite gun blogs have posts about this. Here’s a bit of perspective as this has hit a bit close to home for me — very, very close:

My son works at the Century 16 cinema where this occurred.

He was on the schedule last night.

He called and woke me at 330 this morning and the first thing he said was, “So, I need to find a new job.”

My response, being that I was just woken up, was something to the effect of, “Are you drunk?”

Then he told me there was a shooting a work and then after a painful silence, he started providing some details.

Later in the day, I would also find out that a former employee with my company was shot and that another engineer with whom I work directly was also in the theater.

The perp had no motive other than destruction. There was no negotiating. No cooperating. No, “giving him what he wants”. He was going to take it by force. And with or without firearms, he was going to get what he wanted: destruction.

All I can say is this: carry your damned guns, people. If you’re licensed to carry concealed, then do so. Do it every single day. Like your fire extinguisher or your health insurance or your spare tire in your car, you never know when you’re going to need it.

A New Meme

Okay, I’ll play. Spotted at Jay’s, posed here.

Here’s mine:

Gerber Multi-goodness

One thing that an NCO told me when I joined the Army a long time ago was: “Buy a good multi-tool. Keep it with you.” 22 years later, I don’t go anywhere without my Gerber, well, with the exception of Security Theaters and such, but you get the idea. That tool, and its predecessors, have literally saved lives.

Yes, I do have another one. No, I’m not posting it, but it’s also a Gerber — standard FAST.

A Living Memory

I first met John Scanlan in January of 1994. The circumstances of our introduction weren’t exactly ideal. But things improved: the following year, I would marry his eldest granddaughter.

Living as closeby as we did, our small but growing family would regularly visit John and his wife, Helen. We always wanted to ensure they could spend as much quality time with their great grandchildren as possible. They made everyone feel welcome in their home.

Oftentimes, John would pull me aside and share bits of wisdom with me, or maybe a story from his past. Family, finance, business, life: anything at all. He had a way, through sharing his memories and insights, of helping me to learn more about myself.

I found him to be a respectable, level-headed, kind man. A wealth of knowledge and experience. A character and demeanor that most of us only wish we had.

After a later relocation followed by a series of very painful decisions, I and my son, Nicholas — their great grandson — drifted apart. Sure, we’d talk every few months, but, as life is wont to do, that became rarer as the years went on.

Last Friday evening, Nicholas told me his great-grandfather had been hospitalized. Yesterday morning he told me his great-grandfather; my old friend, the man who was the best man at my wedding, who was there to help two young, confused parents to do the right thing for their children — had passed.

Thank you for everything, John.

—

Update: Reservations made. Will be making a trip out with Nick so we can say our belated farewells and take a brief opportunity for Nick to see some of his family.

Ikea

Okay, this is going to sound odd: I’m a pickup-driving, motorcycle-riding, kilt-wearing, emotionally-detached yet sensitive, anachronistic, engineer and I absolutely fscking love Ikea.

The Lovely Mrs. and I can finally lay hands on some things that make better use of the very limited space in our tiny home and even make it somewhat more enjoyable for our not so tiny family.

Oh, yes, they’ll be getting a portion of our paychecks for the foreseeable future: living room, two office spaces, three bedrooms, a bath and kitchen remodel…

Damn you, Ikea. How could we have survived this long without you?

Jonathan Coulton said it best:

Lyrics in this one: