Lt. Joseph Szczerba, New Castle County Police

I requested, and have been granted, the day off tomorrow in order to attend the services of Lt. Szczerba.  This day will be emotional for everyone involved for many reasons.  For me, I go to honor the man, his service, and to recognize the family, friends, coworkers and community's loss.  It will be painful for me as I, and I am sure there are others, who will be reliving memories of their own. In this case, my cousin Christy Hamilton, LAPD

For all of those in public service, EMS, Fire and Law Enforcement, we accept the risks and rewards of our chosen careers.  And in the end when an LODD sadly occurs, we all know that "There but for the Grace of God, go I"


Requiescat in Pace Lt. Joseph Szczerba:


With confusion and a sense of displacement, he found himself standing in front of a pair of tall, wooden and iron braced doors. Without bidding, and as they had done too many times before, the heavy doors opened slowly, swinging back silently upon their well oiled hinges. He looked over his left shoulder at what was behind him and understanding slowly dawned. He slowly turned back to face the now open doors and paused momentarily...his heart heavy with sadness at leaving behind those he loved the most.

Yet, he held his head high and with a strong sure step; he entered through the doors; and as he did so, the sound of a thousand benches scraped across the floor, the sea of people who had been feasting at the tables, fell silent and rose to their feet. Suddenly and in unison, tankards slammed upon the sturdy oak tables with a loud and echoing thunder that was felt through the very soles of his feet, and the tankards were lifted high in honor. A thunderous roar ensued as a thousand and mores voices of heros and warriors, centuries past and present, shouted "Hail and Welcome Brother!" and he was absorbed into the neverending crowd with encircling arms as the doors silently swung closed behind him.

Another hero is welcomed into the Halls of Valhalla

I fear no God
I fear no pain
As my time has come
Entering the hall of the slain
Lt. Joseph Szczerba, New Castle County Police

I requested, and have been granted, the day off tomorrow in order to attend the services of Lt. Szczerba.  This day will be emotional for everyone involved for many reasons.  For me, I go to honor the man, his service, and to recognize the family, friends, coworkers and community's loss.  It will be painful for me as I, and I am sure there are others, who will be reliving memories of their own. In this case, my cousin Christy Hamilton, LAPD

For all of those in public service, EMS, Fire and Law Enforcement, we accept the risks and rewards of our chosen careers.  And in the end when an LODD sadly occurs, we all know that "There but for the Grace of God, go I"


Requiescat in Pace Lt. Joseph Szczerba:


With confusion and a sense of displacement, he found himself standing in front of a pair of tall, wooden and iron braced doors. Without bidding, and as they had done too many times before, the heavy doors opened slowly, swinging back silently upon their well oiled hinges. He looked over his left shoulder at what was behind him and understanding slowly dawned. He slowly turned back to face the now open doors and paused momentarily...his heart heavy with sadness at leaving behind those he loved the most.

Yet, he held his head high and with a strong sure step; he entered through the doors; and as he did so, the sound of a thousand benches scraped across the floor, the sea of people who had been feasting at the tables, fell silent and rose to their feet. Suddenly and in unison, tankards slammed upon the sturdy oak tables with a loud and echoing thunder that was felt through the very soles of his feet, and the tankards were lifted high in honor. A thunderous roar ensued as a thousand and mores voices of heros and warriors, centuries past and present, shouted "Hail and Welcome Brother!" and he was absorbed into the neverending crowd with encircling arms as the doors silently swung closed behind him.

Another hero is welcomed into the Halls of Valhalla

I fear no God
I fear no pain
As my time has come
Entering the hall of the slain
First, I admit I do not read the newspaper or listen to the news...unless I am at work and of course, everyone else has the news on as it is today.  Swine Flu is swamping the headlines.  I believe the media is hyping it up.  BUT with that said, let me remind you of a few things:

WASH YOUR  HANDS! WASH YOUR HANDS! WASH YOUR HANDS!  Have everyone around you wash your hands.  Make sure the new mantra at work is "wash your hands" before you sit at your desk. Wash your hands when you get home, before you hug/kiss your children and/or significant others.  Have them do the same.  Soap and water...15-20 seconds. Be careful of what you touch...doorknobs, etc. can help transfer the virus to you.  Don't be around coughing/sneezing people.

If you get sick, stay the frick home!!  Don't infect anyone else. And please don't call 911 if you have "flu-like" symptoms, because it won't get you Tamiflu any quicker. Only the sickest folks will be tested and only those folks will receive it.  

Please know that the ERs will be packed.  You will be there hours and hours and hours with hundreds of other sick people.  Stay out of the hospital!!    Also, those who respond to your 911 calls are primarily there for LIFE OR DEATH emergencies.  Having flu like symptoms is not LIFE OR DEATH.  Treat it accordingly.  BUT on the other hand, if you have a pre-existing condition that puts you at a greater risk, do what you need to do.  We will still transport you...but do not be offended if medics come to the doors masked, and if they throw a mask or non-rebreather mask on you as well.

Get enough sleep.  Reduce alcohol.  Eat nutriously.  Give your immune system the best boost you can.  Take your vitamins. Drink lots of water. Open windows and doors and air out the house when possible.  Get some sunshine.  Exercise, etc.

JUST IN CASE, stock up on a few things (stolen  from [livejournal.com profile] turnberryknkn ): 

the list is here... )
 

Dispatch heard today:

Dispatch: "18-14 respond to 123 Main St. for a 32 year old male with flu like symptoms".

18-14: "Great."
First, I admit I do not read the newspaper or listen to the news...unless I am at work and of course, everyone else has the news on as it is today.  Swine Flu is swamping the headlines.  I believe the media is hyping it up.  BUT with that said, let me remind you of a few things:

WASH YOUR  HANDS! WASH YOUR HANDS! WASH YOUR HANDS!  Have everyone around you wash your hands.  Make sure the new mantra at work is "wash your hands" before you sit at your desk. Wash your hands when you get home, before you hug/kiss your children and/or significant others.  Have them do the same.  Soap and water...15-20 seconds. Be careful of what you touch...doorknobs, etc. can help transfer the virus to you.  Don't be around coughing/sneezing people.

If you get sick, stay the frick home!!  Don't infect anyone else. And please don't call 911 if you have "flu-like" symptoms, because it won't get you Tamiflu any quicker. Only the sickest folks will be tested and only those folks will receive it.  

Please know that the ERs will be packed.  You will be there hours and hours and hours with hundreds of other sick people.  Stay out of the hospital!!    Also, those who respond to your 911 calls are primarily there for LIFE OR DEATH emergencies.  Having flu like symptoms is not LIFE OR DEATH.  Treat it accordingly.  BUT on the other hand, if you have a pre-existing condition that puts you at a greater risk, do what you need to do.  We will still transport you...but do not be offended if medics come to the doors masked, and if they throw a mask or non-rebreather mask on you as well.

Get enough sleep.  Reduce alcohol.  Eat nutriously.  Give your immune system the best boost you can.  Take your vitamins. Drink lots of water. Open windows and doors and air out the house when possible.  Get some sunshine.  Exercise, etc.

JUST IN CASE, stock up on a few things (stolen  from [livejournal.com profile] turnberryknkn ): 

the list is here... )
 

Dispatch heard today:

Dispatch: "18-14 respond to 123 Main St. for a 32 year old male with flu like symptoms".

18-14: "Great."

...::: Men today :::...

(by: JR, 6.20.05) These days I spend my time thinking about men and women generally, and male and female archetypes particularly.  And I am left wondering, when did we turn into a country of soft mushy fat whiners?  Or, to be blunt, pussies?
 
And, to be more specific, when did men join the choir of whining chicks?  Whining chicks are the exact reason I do not associate with chicks, generally speaking.  Now our culture has come to the point it is hard to find men, actual manly men, men who do not whine, to hang with.  I have a friend, Candy, who calls manly men “men with penises” and whiney men “men with enlarged clitorises”.   It’s funny because it’s true. 
 
When I was a girl girls weren’t fun.  They didn’t want to do stuff outside, they were afraid of skateboards, they looked stupid throwing a baseball, didn’t like dirt or sweat, and they progressed (if you can call it that) from dolls in the younger years to makeup and curling irons and bulimia in the older years.

Boys, on the other hand, did stuff.  They rode bikes and skateboards, they took a hit and didn’t complain, and used baseballs instead of softballs.  I honestly don’t understand softballs.  The ball was too big for my hand, which made it very awkward to throw.  When I was 9 I begged my parents to put me in the boys little league rather than the girls softball league, which they did, though grudgingly. 
 
Them: “But you’re a girl”
Me: “But softball is stupid.  I want to play baseball”
Them: “But you’re a girl”
Me: “I want to play baseball”
Them: “But you’re a girl.  Softball is for girls, baseball is for boys.”
Me: “Softball is stupid. I want to play baseball.”
 
This went on for a few weeks until they let me sign up for baseball.  It was great.  I played second for three years, and couldn’t hit to save my life. I have gawd-awful hand-eye coordination.  Fortunately I was really short so I walked about 75% of the time.  And because I was a girl they didn’t guard first, so I stole a lot of bases. 
 
I also played soccer with the boys.  This is where I totally, finally, and completely understood that whining  pussy.   Because I was a girl I got tackled a lot at the beginning.  I got tackled and I’d complain.  Then I’d get tripped for no reason.  And I’d cry and complain.  Then two guys tackled me hard.  And I’d cry and complain loudly.  Then I’d get tackled again.  Hmmm.  Cause and effect in effect?  I’m not dumb; I only need seven or eight whacks upside the head with a brick to figure things out.  I got tackled again.  I got up and ran after the ball with my mouth shut.  And, predictably, I got tackled again.  And I got up, poured all my energies into revenge, ran after the ball, and took out the prick who took me out.  After giving a few hits the superfluous tackles stopped.  A most excellent life lesson.
 
So fast-forward twenty-some-odd years.  I’m at a barbeque at my cool chick-friend Michelle’s place on the lake last Sunday.  The sun is shining for the first weekend in two months, it’s hot, the boat is ready to go, there’s beef and alcohol, and I have my wetsuit for my first open water swim in two years.  Life is good.  I’m feeling uncharacteristically sociable and friendly (most likely due to the vodka), so I start talking to some guy.  Big mistake. After an all-too brief moment of meaningless chitchat he starts unloading on me about his “relationship” troubles.  I couldn’t believe it.  Apparently he really loves her but she doesn’t love him as much and he shares his feelings with her and that just pushes her away and he’s too sensitive blahblahblahblahfuckingblah about his “feelings”.  He totally killed my buzz. 
 
So I finally interrupted him with “Dude, are you a chick?” 
He stopped and stared at me.  “What?” 
I repeated my question, “Are. You.  A chick?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…why are you telling me this?  I don’t know you, and you apparently feel free to dump your personal shit that I don’t care about on me.  You are being a whiney chick.” 

Ahhhh, the alcohol was back in effect.  Oh yeah.  We’re back up to speed.

He stared at me.  I stared at him.  I got bored.  I walked away.

Michelle came up to me with more alcohol, cuz apparently I needed it, and a smile. 

“What the hell was that thing?” I asked.
“He’s not mine; he’s Jack’s.”  Jack is her boyfriend, and he’s not whiney.
“He’s a pussy.”
“Yeah.”
 
I am not cool with this new generation of whining diva dudes, this whole group of reincarnated Judy Garlands.  Guys were my respite from girls.  Guys had performance standards, expectations of personal behavior.  You had to sink or swim; you either kept up with the pack or got dropped.   Which means I became strong, independent, resilient, flexible, competitive, developed high standards for myself, earned my own self-respect, and didn’t make excuses.  These are very difficult lessons for girls to learn, primarily because we are not exposed to many opportunities to learn them while playing with dolls, looking at boys, shopping for clothes, and gossiping.  And now it looks like guys are evolving into this same class of girls: soft, chubby, gossipy, whiney, and narcissistic.  We’re a mess.


...::: Men today :::...

(by: JR, 6.20.05) These days I spend my time thinking about men and women generally, and male and female archetypes particularly.  And I am left wondering, when did we turn into a country of soft mushy fat whiners?  Or, to be blunt, pussies?
 
And, to be more specific, when did men join the choir of whining chicks?  Whining chicks are the exact reason I do not associate with chicks, generally speaking.  Now our culture has come to the point it is hard to find men, actual manly men, men who do not whine, to hang with.  I have a friend, Candy, who calls manly men “men with penises” and whiney men “men with enlarged clitorises”.   It’s funny because it’s true. 
 
When I was a girl girls weren’t fun.  They didn’t want to do stuff outside, they were afraid of skateboards, they looked stupid throwing a baseball, didn’t like dirt or sweat, and they progressed (if you can call it that) from dolls in the younger years to makeup and curling irons and bulimia in the older years.

Boys, on the other hand, did stuff.  They rode bikes and skateboards, they took a hit and didn’t complain, and used baseballs instead of softballs.  I honestly don’t understand softballs.  The ball was too big for my hand, which made it very awkward to throw.  When I was 9 I begged my parents to put me in the boys little league rather than the girls softball league, which they did, though grudgingly. 
 
Them: “But you’re a girl”
Me: “But softball is stupid.  I want to play baseball”
Them: “But you’re a girl”
Me: “I want to play baseball”
Them: “But you’re a girl.  Softball is for girls, baseball is for boys.”
Me: “Softball is stupid. I want to play baseball.”
 
This went on for a few weeks until they let me sign up for baseball.  It was great.  I played second for three years, and couldn’t hit to save my life. I have gawd-awful hand-eye coordination.  Fortunately I was really short so I walked about 75% of the time.  And because I was a girl they didn’t guard first, so I stole a lot of bases. 
 
I also played soccer with the boys.  This is where I totally, finally, and completely understood that whining  pussy.   Because I was a girl I got tackled a lot at the beginning.  I got tackled and I’d complain.  Then I’d get tripped for no reason.  And I’d cry and complain.  Then two guys tackled me hard.  And I’d cry and complain loudly.  Then I’d get tackled again.  Hmmm.  Cause and effect in effect?  I’m not dumb; I only need seven or eight whacks upside the head with a brick to figure things out.  I got tackled again.  I got up and ran after the ball with my mouth shut.  And, predictably, I got tackled again.  And I got up, poured all my energies into revenge, ran after the ball, and took out the prick who took me out.  After giving a few hits the superfluous tackles stopped.  A most excellent life lesson.
 
So fast-forward twenty-some-odd years.  I’m at a barbeque at my cool chick-friend Michelle’s place on the lake last Sunday.  The sun is shining for the first weekend in two months, it’s hot, the boat is ready to go, there’s beef and alcohol, and I have my wetsuit for my first open water swim in two years.  Life is good.  I’m feeling uncharacteristically sociable and friendly (most likely due to the vodka), so I start talking to some guy.  Big mistake. After an all-too brief moment of meaningless chitchat he starts unloading on me about his “relationship” troubles.  I couldn’t believe it.  Apparently he really loves her but she doesn’t love him as much and he shares his feelings with her and that just pushes her away and he’s too sensitive blahblahblahblahfuckingblah about his “feelings”.  He totally killed my buzz. 
 
So I finally interrupted him with “Dude, are you a chick?” 
He stopped and stared at me.  “What?” 
I repeated my question, “Are. You.  A chick?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…why are you telling me this?  I don’t know you, and you apparently feel free to dump your personal shit that I don’t care about on me.  You are being a whiney chick.” 

Ahhhh, the alcohol was back in effect.  Oh yeah.  We’re back up to speed.

He stared at me.  I stared at him.  I got bored.  I walked away.

Michelle came up to me with more alcohol, cuz apparently I needed it, and a smile. 

“What the hell was that thing?” I asked.
“He’s not mine; he’s Jack’s.”  Jack is her boyfriend, and he’s not whiney.
“He’s a pussy.”
“Yeah.”
 
I am not cool with this new generation of whining diva dudes, this whole group of reincarnated Judy Garlands.  Guys were my respite from girls.  Guys had performance standards, expectations of personal behavior.  You had to sink or swim; you either kept up with the pack or got dropped.   Which means I became strong, independent, resilient, flexible, competitive, developed high standards for myself, earned my own self-respect, and didn’t make excuses.  These are very difficult lessons for girls to learn, primarily because we are not exposed to many opportunities to learn them while playing with dolls, looking at boys, shopping for clothes, and gossiping.  And now it looks like guys are evolving into this same class of girls: soft, chubby, gossipy, whiney, and narcissistic.  We’re a mess.


My friend Benny is a civilian contractor over in Iraq...he finds the greatest videos.  This a.m. he sent one out of the Cactus Cuties singing the National Anthem, which was just awesome.

In trying to find a better video of the performance, I wound up listening to a variety of performances including Whitney Houston, Beyonce Knowles, the Dixie Chicks, a six year old girl and some others.  The one I embedded below however has it's own flair and entertainment value...



My friend Benny is a civilian contractor over in Iraq...he finds the greatest videos.  This a.m. he sent one out of the Cactus Cuties singing the National Anthem, which was just awesome.

In trying to find a better video of the performance, I wound up listening to a variety of performances including Whitney Houston, Beyonce Knowles, the Dixie Chicks, a six year old girl and some others.  The one I embedded below however has it's own flair and entertainment value...


elzregina: (Why don't I live in the Keys?)


http://www.mercurynews.com/ci_11602402?source=most_viewed


elzregina: (Why don't I live in the Keys?)


http://www.mercurynews.com/ci_11602402?source=most_viewed



Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] turnberryknkn  who provided me an answer to a long sought out concern about backing up my LJ. 

Go here: http://sourceforge.net/projects/ljarchive/

He has been using it for years and is quite pleased.  Per his entry (and all of his are public):

"So, as all of you know by now, tomorrow, LJ is scheduled to go offline for four hours as the whole of LiveJournal moves from it's current datacenter in San Francisco to a new datacenter in Montana (link).

Now, just in case you're interested in backing up and downloading your LJ -- *and* all your comments -- before LJ attempts to make the Big Move happen...

I've used the program ljArchive for many years, and have been very pleased with it. It not only downloads all my entries -- *all* of them, including all my Private entries [1] -- it downloads all comments on all entries. And provides a neat graphic interface, by which I can read my LJ even completely offline -- or even if LJ were to catastrophically disappear. And it automatically refreshes it's backup every time I fire up the program. As a final bonus, it allows me to conveniently search my entire LJ by word or phrase - something LJ itself doesn't conveniently allow me to do.

You can download the program here -- yes, technically it's a beta, but it's run just fine for me for years.

Thanks [livejournal.com profile] turnberryknkn !!!






Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] turnberryknkn  who provided me an answer to a long sought out concern about backing up my LJ. 

Go here: http://sourceforge.net/projects/ljarchive/

He has been using it for years and is quite pleased.  Per his entry (and all of his are public):

"So, as all of you know by now, tomorrow, LJ is scheduled to go offline for four hours as the whole of LiveJournal moves from it's current datacenter in San Francisco to a new datacenter in Montana (link).

Now, just in case you're interested in backing up and downloading your LJ -- *and* all your comments -- before LJ attempts to make the Big Move happen...

I've used the program ljArchive for many years, and have been very pleased with it. It not only downloads all my entries -- *all* of them, including all my Private entries [1] -- it downloads all comments on all entries. And provides a neat graphic interface, by which I can read my LJ even completely offline -- or even if LJ were to catastrophically disappear. And it automatically refreshes it's backup every time I fire up the program. As a final bonus, it allows me to conveniently search my entire LJ by word or phrase - something LJ itself doesn't conveniently allow me to do.

You can download the program here -- yes, technically it's a beta, but it's run just fine for me for years.

Thanks [livejournal.com profile] turnberryknkn !!!







Way over yonder is a place that I know
Where I can find shelter from hunger and cold
And the sweet tasting good life is easily found
Way over yonder - that's where I'm bound
I know when I get there, the first thing I'll see
Is the sun shining golden - shining rigth down on me
Then trouble's gonna lose me - worry leave me behind
And I'll stand up proudly in true peace of mind
Way over yonder is a place I have seen
In a garden of wisdom from some long ago dream
May be tomorrow I'll find my way
To the land where the honey runs in rivers each day
And the sweet tasting good life is so easily found
Way over yonder - that's where I'm bound 

--- Carole King

My cousin Erik, and his wife Tanya, along with another couple, were killed this weekend when the plane he was piloting went down outside of Las Vegas. One of a number of articles here:

http://www.lasvegasnow.com/Global/story.asp?S=8581281&nav=168Y

This was not a cousin that I was particularly close to but one of those you see every few years at the family reunion or at a funeral. In fact, he gave the sermon at my Grandmother's funeral. 

Truly a shame. My heart grieves for their children.

Way over yonder is a place that I know
Where I can find shelter from hunger and cold
And the sweet tasting good life is easily found
Way over yonder - that's where I'm bound
I know when I get there, the first thing I'll see
Is the sun shining golden - shining rigth down on me
Then trouble's gonna lose me - worry leave me behind
And I'll stand up proudly in true peace of mind
Way over yonder is a place I have seen
In a garden of wisdom from some long ago dream
May be tomorrow I'll find my way
To the land where the honey runs in rivers each day
And the sweet tasting good life is so easily found
Way over yonder - that's where I'm bound 

--- Carole King

My cousin Erik, and his wife Tanya, along with another couple, were killed this weekend when the plane he was piloting went down outside of Las Vegas. One of a number of articles here:

http://www.lasvegasnow.com/Global/story.asp?S=8581281&nav=168Y

This was not a cousin that I was particularly close to but one of those you see every few years at the family reunion or at a funeral. In fact, he gave the sermon at my Grandmother's funeral. 

Truly a shame. My heart grieves for their children.

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