Went to the dentist...

And the news is all bad. First off he did not do anything to the tooth but referred me to another guy. He did write a couple of prescriptions. I am patiently waiting their fill. Seems that a tooth I had a root canal on either has another root or is cracked.

This has been same bad pain. If I take 4 ibuprophin and take two more in an hour I can make 3 or 4 hours with manageable pain. This is a throbbing pain. Makes me think about pistols and how I would shoot the big white dog if he was here. Makes me think of the death of Jesus on the cross, how he died for our sins, I am thankful for that surffering, I would not want to take everyone's tooth aches for them. It is pain that makes me free associate resurrection and assention into Heaven with prescription painkillers. This pain makes me very mad at other drivers on the highway and it makes me want to talk on the cell phone loudly in public places. It makes me want to say the hell with Lent, I aint giving nothing up. It makes me hate children and urges me to talk to people rudely.

I can't get in to my other appoinment till the 13th. That's a long time. I left my dentist with the promises that medicine will be available to help me make it till then.

Hopefully when my wife gets back from town with the medicine, I will be better. I need to study for a lab tomorrow.

I got a bad toothache...

Started yesterday, not too bad early but by evening I was in some pain. Something bad wrong. Feels like a small sword, and I can see the blade shape in my, mind is jammed down into the ghompers sockets of my jaw bone. My jaw bone has no flesh, stripped away by the ravages of pain to a skeleton jaw, exposed to searing winds that bring grit and work it into tender places. The worn and frayed nerve endings can no longer feel the temperature of said wind, they only know pain that is pain, no description can be issued other than that.

Luckily not too heavy a day at school, Only tests are Tuesday and Thursday, and one lab book assignment due the 1st. I hopefully can make it through class today and head to the dentist this afternoon.

I plan on calling him as soon as they open, I'll be on the road between here and Kilgore. I will mention the pistol. He can either see me without an appointment or not see me. It will be his choice, the way my tooth hurts right now it won't much matter if I use it on him or me, whatever brings relief.

Sliced into the king cake...

Cooked up 3lb of boiled shrimp for me and Cathy, best we could do for a Mardi Gras weekend with her working and me studying. Also bought a king cake.

Don't know if you know the legend of the king cake, sort of represents the gifts the wise men brought to the Christ child, something like that. There are various versions of what the baby inside represents, it goes way back. It could simply mean good luck for who finds or it could mean the finder brings next years king cake or throws the next Mardi Gras party. I think way way back in more primitive cultures there were customs where the cake had a bean in it and the finder got to do what ever they wanted for a day. WHATEVER. Of course they were worthless and ashamed and could not look any of their friends in the eye anymore after that crazy day so they were then killed.

When I cut the king cake tonight, I put the knife right on the baby. Hope it brings me luck because I assure you I have not been doing whatever I want tonight, I have had my head in a text book.

Good weekend to...

Check my web links and log on to the Bourbon St. cameras. Try to get a bit of Carnival feeling going.

Not the usual big crowd what with the condition of New Orleans, but I bet that's a good thing.

With a big Mardi Grai weekend coming...

Here are some pictures sent by a friend of ours, Lisa, who was Queen of a Krew in Thibeaux, La. last weekend for the Mardi Gras celebration there.

Looks like a lot of fun, I have been to more Mardi Gras that I can remember right this minute but I have never know a Queen before.


Well, there was that one time I saw Lorene Green, from the old Bonanza series as Bacchus riding on a float. Growing up watching all those Sunday night episodes made me feel like I kind of knew him, as good as you can know a guy I guess. I don't know if he was the king or queen, in this post Brokeback Mountain world I ponder things like that, a western, four guys, no women, why did they really call the big one "Hoss."

Any way Lorene was pretty old by this time and died not long after, not right after Mardi Gras, like I have felt like doing a few times before I got to know better, but in a couple of years. He looked like he was holding on to that float for dear life. He had a serious look on his face, Carnival is hard work for all, kings, queens and even those that get all gussied up and wave rubber sharks in the air.

I think the next time I saw the Bacchus parade some flavor of the moment TV actor was Bacchus. Not very fitting I thought. I heard the next Bacchus will be Dick Cheny.

Ouch...

That test on the foot was hard. I did fine on the lab part, if that's any consolation.

I need to really study for the rest of these test on the foot, let us turn to the internet for help, Google foot, click on images, and hey, we have study aids. My grades will be better now.

If I did not have this blog I think my brains would blow up. Anybody know what I mean?

Test schedule...

Two tests today, foot palpation in lab and functional anatomy lecture on the foot.

Thursday is assessments and measurements of the foot, goniometry, orthopedic test, manual muscle tests. Also knee case scenarios due.

Friday is assessments lecture and computer exercise program in computer lab.

Tuesday is Therx lab. Exercise, stretching and joint mobs of the foot.

Thursday is Therx lecture.

Come on spring break...

Fri

Taekwondo results...

I forgot, Morgan and Mary went to a Taekwondo tournament in Kingwood this weekend.

Morgan took a second place sparring, that's the 2nd and 3rd degree black belts 17-29 years old, lots of fireworks in that ring. I heard he was the shortest in the ring and he's 6"2 or 3. That's pretty good.

Mary took first sparring in the 14-16 year old 2nd and 3rd degrees. Wiped them out by all reports. Master Olford, our instructor says she is the hottest thing in the country right now. He's proud of her and we are too.

Ice day...

Well for some people, I drove to Kilgore only to find school closed. Really was not icey on the way up for me, I did talk to one student from Oakwood or somewhere that had quite a bit of ice on her car. She was surprised to find no one there and had seen a bit more weather than us southerners.

Any way I took in the sights. Looks like the loop in Nacogdoches is a peril for some. One wreck blocking traffic and evidence of several more to be see. Another wreck in Lufkin at north 59 and the loop, no ice but that spot has been popular when it rains lately, people seem to want to bunch up.

One coyote, he took a look across the road throught the freezing drizzle between Mt. Enterprise and Henderson and went back in the woods. Then there were the two dogs, both hit by cars, laying about 10 yards apart, peacefully doing the big sleep in the cold rain. I wondered if they were both hit by the same car. No heaven or hell for dogs, I think when they die they go to another dimension where they just keep on what they were doing before they died. Instead of like people and going to a place of comfort and peace they just keep on standing on the side of the road in a cold rain with cars whizzing past at 70mph. Those dimensions don't just go 1st, 2nd they go 1.000000000000001 then 1.000000000000002. That's so dogs get a lot of chances, since they are so dumb.

Some icicles hanging from trees and eves of buildings in Kilgore. Might not see that much more, global warming and all.

I walked across campus to the library, they were closed. There was a guy on the second floor of the administration building, behind tall glass windows and in a white shirt and tie. Our eyes met. A cheap white shirt is cold on a day like today. I'm not saying he had a cheap white shirt, but all my white shirts are cheap, real cold and hard with too much starch from the cleaners. Glad I was dressed warm. Any way I mouthed the words, "call me next time you close" and flashed him a gang sign.

Then almost back to Lufkin there were 30 cowboys on horse back. I guess going to the Livestock show in Houston. There was a guy on horse stopped at the edge of the woods, he was holding the other cowboys thing, I mean rein while that one did something in the woods. Then that other cowboy taking a woods break turned out to be a cowgirl.

I wish I had a matador outfit...

You know, like they wear in Spain to fight the bulls. I don't care what color, just one with a lot of sparkles, stones and designs that match a purple cape. I already have a sword, in case I have to kill a bull but I wouldn't do that, that's not me, man.

 If I had a matador outfit I wear it all kind of places. I'd wear it walking the new sidewalks of down town Lufkin in the dusky evening falling dark, spangles catching the last light while people cutting through the downtown short cuts taking kids home or getting off work would see me and think, there really is some new business going on in the old places. I'd wear it white bass fishing off wind swept sandy points on the big lake, the glitter of the suit catching the rays of clear blue bird spring days while I stood casting in the front of the boat and shining in a thousand broken shards reflected across the water so that people miles up the lake driving across the long bridge think someone dropped a disco ball in the water. I'd wear it at the boat ramp when asking other fisherman what they caught them on mostly. I wear it to one of those cowboy churches where everybody just wears jeans just to show people that it's cool to dress up and go to church. I'd wear it to one of those Angelina County Democratic events I always get email invites to just to see if they would still send invites. I'd wear it to an Angelina County Republican event just to see if they though I was a Democrat. I'd wear it to New Orleans for Carnival. I'd wear it down to the French Market where James sells tie-died t-shirts and dresses just to show that straight guys know how to have fun too. I'd wear it because I want to see if I could get on the TV news in New Orleans one more time, just like those times before. I'd wear it at the next polka band gig because it would give the folks great pleasure. I'd wear it to a family reunion so they could see the real me. I'd wear it because I'm 64 years old and by golly I think I'd look good in the damn thing. I'd wear it when Cathy wore her belly dancer outfit. And if she got cold, I'd wrap her up tight in my purple cape.

On probation...

Well I fixed up the situation with the ticket in MT. Enterprise. (See blog a couple of weeks back.) Without the need for lawyers or guns, cold hard cash got me off the hook, no reports to the old driving record, only thing is I must avoid trouble for the next 90 days that involves Mt. Enterprise's finest. They call this deal "probation." I spend about 30 minutes a week in Mt. Enterprise, 3 minutes driving through on my way to Kilgore and 3 minutes a day driving back times 5 days a week equals 30 minutes over Tokyo so to speak where I must avoid the air I mean speed defense system.

As Bill Cooney likes to say, "if cash can solve your problems, you aint got problems." He likes to say that when it aint his cash.

So I guess I am still free to exploit the other 254 municipalities, principalities and unincorporated republics of the great state of Texas. Trouble there may mean branching out to law breaking in other states, if I can't go straight, I mean slower.

I don't mind the money so bad, my only regret is this terrible mug shot that appeared in the Mt Enterprise Democrat, the local newspaper. (mount.e.democrat.com)

I feel like a small animal...

The past year or so I have been cultivating a gray squirrel population in my yard. First permanent colony I have ever had in about 23 years of living here. They are extremely wild and I have been feeding sunflower seed, they like that much better than corn. Thinking about how I like nuts better than corn myself led me to examine other aspects in which we are a like. Especially at this time in my life, going to school and all. It may be hard for some to think of me as a squirrel, it would be a big one if I was, but here goes.

Those little guys get up in the morning early, just like me. Set about their business with good intentions, happy to arise and see what the day will bring. In their case it's the seeds, easy feeding. Myself, I've had a good nights rest and I am ready to commence learning. The day wears on, and other critters and people began to stir, like the squirrel I am alright alone, but the passing hours bring encounters with others and that makes both of us jumpy. I don't run and climb trees if I get spooked, but have wanted to a few times.

The seeds start to get harder to get, and for me what seemed so clear is muddied with new information that must be absorbed. Too much too much, I cry, the squirrel says not enough not enough, I want more seeds, I have eaten them all. We both cry in anguish of a different sort. By afternoon we have retreated to our dens, them waiting and napping, me to study and worry if I am studying enough.

By later afternoon, things began to ease, I am getting events and info gathered and organized. I take a break, walk out to my feeders and fill them up, getting me and my pets ready to go for another day.

Sorry...

Sorry I made fun of Dick shooting that old boy, should not have made fun of an accident. Guy is back in ICU, Dick shot him bad.

I guess it set me off a bit, Dick wants to send in $7 to pay for the dove stamp he should have had, let a good old boy try that after the ticket has been issued. Rich guys hunting, I bet a joker like me could not even find a place to dove hunt without paying a fee in that area of the state. The injustice I guess of things not there for the people anymore.

Get well guy, don't hunt anymore with Dick.

Dear Dick...

From the Texans for Gun Safety Website:
The Fundamentals of Firearm Safety
The three basic general rules of safe gun handling.
1. Always point the muzzle in a safe direction; never point a firearm at anyone or anything you don't want to shoot.
2. Keep your finger off the trigger and outside the trigger guard until you are ready to shoot.
3. Keep the action open and the gun unloaded until you are ready to use it.

Also don't forget those important additional rules:
No booze, no horseplay, receive competent instruction and report unsafe behavior.

Hope this was not connected in anyway to the recent shut down of the Winchester plant, but since that involves American jobs going overseas, something Dick seems to be for, I doubt it was the case.

Hey, since the news is all about guys that hunt with Dick let us balance it out a bit with a picture of a guy that don't hunt with Dick.

Bream sleep in the winter...

It's cold this morning. It was cold and windy yesterday also, but I saw a guy in a big old bass boat in Huntington, guess he had been to the lake and gone bass fishing. Big bass, they bite in the cold late winter months, best chance to catch a real monster. The lowely bream, he's like me, he stays deep and warm and no body thinks about fishing for him till about May.

Think about fishing while I study, no time to write long thoughts, just to long for simple times and fun a fishing so I am going to post a paper I wrote for an English class at Angelina College two years ago when I first started back to school, simpler times then for sure, I made an "A" on this little story and some of it is actually true.
50 Bream
I saw Howling Wolf eat fifty bream at a fish fry. It was the summer of 1963, and I was seven years old. This savage example of extreme dining took place in the small town of Luxora, Arkansas. It was the day after a fishing trip, and I was at my Aunt’s home, a big rambling wooden house located on a shady oak lined street about a half-mile from the chute where the bream were caught.

To prepare for the fish fry bream had to be caught. Bream, pronounced “brim,” is a member of the sunfish family. A northerner might call them a bluegill. In the south several species such as redears, shellcrackers and goggle eyes are often grouped under the name of bream. There is no limit on size or number caught so a successful stringer might include fish measuring from a few inches to ten inches long. This fact of no restriction was a godsend because so many of these little fish had to be caught, and since the men were at work it was the duty of me, my cousins and the other women to bring home the main course. We carried cane poles, bait, and sack lunches over the levee to the chute where we fished. A chute is a body of water connected to the main river. In East Texas a chute is called a slough. In Louisiana it’s called a bayou. I loved the fishing we did. The virtues of patience, stealth, knowledge of the best places to drop a line and the light touch needed to set the hook in the small mouths were skills I polished that hot summer. Patience was especially important because many bream were needed to satisfy the guests at my Aunt’s fish fry. Luckily the bream were eager, and by evening several burlap sacks full were dragged back over the levee, the contents to be headed, gutted and scaled.

The next day was Saturday and people began gathering before lunch. Tables were set up, and domino games were commenced in the shade under the twisted river oaks in the front yard. In the backyard the horseshoe pit saw steady action. Inside the kitchen was where the women cooked greens and beans, hot water corn bread, and fried the bream whole in big iron skillets.

The kitchen was my favorite place to be. I liked to get the first samples of food as they were piled on big platters for the folks gathered in the yard. As I waited for my next bite I became aware that a shadow had darkened the door of the hot kitchen. A giant man stood there on skinny legs supporting a massive trunk of a body topped by a bull neck. He had a prominent head with a jutting jaw line. Howling Wolf entered and the cooks began to make a place at the metal legged kitchen table.

I watched as he sat in the straw-bottomed wooden chair like an ancient king. A plate was placed in front of him, and he began to serve himself from the platters on the table. Open-mouthed I watched as he made short work of stripping the flesh from the larger fish, tossing their bones aside. I witnessed him crunching the smaller fish bones and all. I dodged as he slung my Aunt’s homemade pepper sauce over his beans and greens. I instinctively checked my own trousers as he brushed the cornbread crumbs from his overalls. I held my ears against the smacking, crunching and slurping that seemed deafening in the small stifling kitchen. Bream after bream disappeared. When I sensed the end was near and I moved a step closer to the action.

Howling Wolf pushed his chair back, thrust out his chin, and in a voice made coarse by the swallowing of a thousand tiny bones said, “What you lookin’ at boy?”

“Fifty bream,” I blurted.

Odds and ends to finish the week...

The ongoing stuff:

Mixed week on grades, high Cs and low As, still one grade out, but I think it will be good. A "C"hurts my pride, but I guess it will all average out.

The big white dog came back, he still has the blog address on his collar. He only stayed gone one day this time.

The music store is fixing my old Bassman amp, $300. Should be able to go another 20 years or so on that.

Three more test next week, hoping to relax this weekend, but I guess not. I got a question to ask the instructor about joint mobs that woke me up too early this morning.

Will be in computer lab this morning writing exercise programs, might sneak in a blog post from there, I already have the assignment done, I'll just preview it and revise if necessary.

Fought off a cold or allergy, sneezed and snotted all through a test, I can't help but think I could have ekked out a couple of more points to make that grade a "B" if I had felt better. I felt better yesterday and am good today. I always admire the little white flowers that bloom in the spring, so pale and pure against the slumbering deadwood of the cold forest, springing up with new birth in places where druids and tree men have stalked the long dark nights of winter. Signs of new birth and hope, they are making me sneeze my ass off.

Hey, I'm in the computer lab at Kilgore 11am , made 98 on the test I had yesterday.

An anniversary of sorts...

Two years. It's been two years since the mill shut down. I lost the job I had had for 25 years. I am not looking back all homesick for that place, I'm not like a bunch of other guys, sitting around, go back at the drop of a hat I am just recording the fact of what happened. I guess the main fact about that shut down for me is that it seems so very strange to just walk away from things that you have done for that long and not do them again.

I have definitely used the skills of hard work and perseverance through thick and thin that I used at the mill to come a long way in a whole other direction since climbing down off the old fork lift and I have enjoyed that journey. But there was a certain amount of comfort involved in getting up go to work, coming home. Now it's get up go to school, come home study study seems like it's always something new, I can never learn it all, never get it all done. Certain amount of pain involved in new directions, it hurts and it don't get well quick as I would like. Not like the old rut that was known so well.

Because the old brain is so busy with new things all the time I seem more sensitive to the things that I would like to do, I often have thoughts about things I would like to do when I'm out of school. I guess that's just a way to rest the head, a daydream, what I'm doing right now is it, it's life as we know it.

I may never be comfortable again, comfort might just be a habit.

Here is a picture of me doing one of those things I think about that I'd like to do more of when I get out of school. Trying my best to to look uncomfortable.

So he's back...

That big white dog, his habit of coming and going mentioned a few posts earlier. I really thought he was gone this time. He has always roamed freely, gone in the mornings to return and sleep the afternoon away, he was gone a few days and returned without a collar. He was gone a week and returned wearing his collar. He has been gone a couple of weeks and he's back.

So he has a second home and that's fine with me. Have to buy a lot less dog food, but he should make up his mind. I don't want to get stuck with a big old bag of that stuff and him be gone for good. Just for fun, I wrote down this blog address, put it in a zip lock bag, attached it to his collar. I guess I'll never know if someone finds it or he loses it but we will see what happens.

Could be funny. Someone logs on here and sees my name. You know there is another person with my name and his wife has my wife's name and they live in the area. I actually encountered him in the post office in Huntington. He was having some trouble getting his mail, they said what is your name, think about it, someone asks a guy his name and he says yours. Anyway, I was careful not to accidently contact him in case the cosmic energy leveled the post office and I was accused of another terrorist act.

So what if someone knows this guy, logs on to this blog and thinks he has stumbled on that other guys secret life. Believe me, that other guy with my name, he don't act like me.

In the back room...

Mary and Cathy have Fender amps, drums, cheap electric guitars, mics and mojo all cranked up. Bo Diddly or the White Stripes meet the Black-Eyed Peas. Doing a lot more damage than the Rolling Stones last night at the Super Bowel.

I'm studying, 3 tests this week and I'm tight, nervous.

At least music calms the spooky animals or something like that I have heard.

The duck thing...

It was pretty strange working the Ducks Unlimited banquet in Henderson the other night. I have always loved duck hunting, done it since a I was a child. I guess I missed the boat some where when it comes to fund raising banquets like this. I was a DU member at one time, I give my money to help people now a days.

There were about 5 kegs of beer, I served one all by myself. There was a bunch of stuff to be won by raffle and there was a couple of ropey looking old gals in mini skirts with too dark tans for Febuary working the floor selling packs of tickets. They were working the old boys for all they had. Lots of duck related paintings for sale. I have always thought I could recognize a good painting, I didn't see any, at least any that would have looked good in my Mediterranean/New Orleans/Indo Bulgarian motif complete with pounding soundtrack living quarters. Anyway the good old boys had a time and I guess I did also, got points for school and a free catfish shrimp dinner. Did not drink any beer even though I poured gallons of it.

Any way as I drove home I thought about places I had hunted, old river bottoms, places where the high dollar shotguns I had seen for sale would be unusual, places with names like Big Island and wild hog bend. Then there was ice box slough, where an old 50s era coke box rose like a monolith to American culture in the fog of early morning boat rides, caught in our spotlight, best that could be had at the time, you can buy better ones for $20 now, this one was on permant loan to Uncle Bill by the U.S. Navy, a spot which had shined and searched deep waters off Australia. That old coke box might have missed it's real spotlight curtain call, a big sale on ebay and I bet it is is gone now I would guess, washed away, rusted down, I'll never go there again to know, but today I saw a right modern TV on the side of an East Texas country road. If we could take it down the river and mark a slough a bend an island the plastic and glass would last way past me. Don't let anybody BS you, modern junk is better.

I thought about the Wood Duck, the fantastic colors of the male, the drab female, we were doing good if we walked an old slough and jumped up a couple of them and shot them. They are quick to spook and fly fast, hard to hit through the trees and thick brush. Not like setting up dekes on the lake, getting all covered up in tank netting "from some East Bloc country that no longer needs it," thanks James, and fooling them in. The woody only flies at first and last light usually before and after shooting time. The Indians, not the Bulgarian ones thought the woody was sacred, seems like I saw an old Indian clay pipe with a woody carved on it, he nested in the hollow trees of the land, swam in the water, flew in the air, comfortable in all three places of the Earth. Can you think of any other creatures like that?

Guess that is something to strive for, comfortable every where. I still got that old US Navy spotlight we used so long ago, just in case I ever need it while I'm trying.

Took a long nap...

Worked about 6 hours today, this was after a day that began a little later than usual, but ran a little longer than I like what with the bartending at the Ducks Unlimited banquet in Henderson Friday night. Did not know there was so much to duck hunting, but I think I'll blog about that later. This was for volunteer hours for the PT club. Never thought I'd get graded on pouring beer.

When I got home today, I did not feel all that beat, but a little news paper reading on the couch and I was unconscious. Funny how you don't feel it, but suddently you pass out like that. Tireder than I thought. Anyway I'm good now, a little seafood at Pete's, Cathy went to work, Mary and friend have a bonfire in the yard (the joy of the rural, try that in Crown dude) I'm going to bike ride a little in the dark and I'll be pepped up to study for a while tonight. Got a new stereo amp/tuner replacing a unit I bought in 1978, ordered from Amozon.com UPS did not even bruise the box, first time to have radio on the big speakers. I'll study to some NPR late night Saturday music.

I'm a transistor guy late at night, but it aint what it used to be, hope I don't miss my little "Plastic Silver 9 Volt Heart."

Work tomorrow at 7am.

Posting away from home...

Posting from the computer lab at Kilgore today. I have been using a program here to write exercise programs for various scenerios. Great fun on a Friday afternoon, but may say me some time later in the week. I have to stick around to get in some of my volunteer hours tonight any way.

So its a busy time, bunch of test next week work this weekend, wish me luck. I have been really studying, I will be disapointed if I don't make a good grade.

Got a speeding ticket in Mt. Enterprise yesterday. Gregg County Sherriff. He mentioned a number on a sheet of paper he gave me, I could call it and get "defeered dispensation." Won't go on my license or driving record. Kind of a sin tax I guess. The ticket was 83 miles per hour in a 70. I was letting it float. Had Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys blaring on the cd.

Getting excited and driving too fast to Bob Wills reminds me of one time in 1974, I had an 8 track by Willie Nelson playing in my room. The old man heard it, thought it was Bob Wills, came running in there in his boxers, he was so excited to hear the old songs. I thought I was on to something so new that there was no way the old man could know about it, but he did.

He was about the same age as I am now, his boxers were white with small maroon squares with green circles inside the squares on them. My boxers have dragons, jalapeno peppers and rubber chickens on them. Things change a bit, like boxers, the music not to much, if you know what to listen to.

They are fixing to close this place down.

I just noticed...

I had two cds in my collection titled "Band of Gypsys."

This one by JH:











And this one:











Actually I have three, because I have the reissued remastered Hendrix "Band of Gypsys" also.

Ok, since this is a public confessional of sort with feelings and all kind of things expressed, regretted and admitted, it was my wife that noticed the two cds.

Sgt. Ryan...

A few blog entries back I mentioned recording a song with some of the folks from Brothers Keeper Church that was dedicated to a guy, Sgt. Ryan wounded in Iraq. Here is a web site with his story:

helpeddieryan.com

If you click on see video and hear song on the left hand side of the page under the dove you will hear a song Dave Sarver wrote and see a video of local folks thanking Eddie for his sacrifice. They went to see him and thanked him personally. I played bass on the song and am actually in the video, in the quick shot of people at the taekwondo school.

I really wish guys like this did not have to make any sacrifice. As a parent myself I'm sure Eddie's mom wishes that this did not happen. We can only hope that there is a greater thing, getting all these people to help that may have never helped anyone before, just getting people involved with the trials that others face, maybe making people ask questions as to why we fight wars any way.