The letter...

Three days ago I printed off a nine page letter and mailed it to an Army APO address. It was addressed to the son of a good friend. He is currently in Kuwait I believe, his final destination may be Iraq or Afghanistan.

It took me three months to write it, and despite endless revisions and re-writes it still didn't come out very well. Why did I write it? There are several reasons. I know that soldiers don't ever get enough mail. I know that email is available, but emails are rarely written with the same care of real letters and they have none of the permanency. A real letter means you took a little more time and effort to put down your thoughts.

Where many have no doubt sent him well-wishes and hope for a safe deployment I took a more practical approach. I outlined to him exactly why I felt we were in a wrongful conflict, why our presence in Iraq is not helping the cause of peace and what might happen when we remove ourselves from that area. It is, aside from a few bits of practical advice, a lengthy screed on why I feel his is in for a rough time and why he should not be there at all.

I am sure his parents spoke with him about this. I am sure they pointed out the risks and dangers of entering the service at this time. They are no Bush lovers. And yet he joined anyway. I truly wish I had been given the opportunity to speak with him while he was deciding whether to join or not. I don;t know if I could have changed his mind. I don't know his motivations. All I know if that this is a kid I used to see running around camp at Pennsic. We'd send him off on ice runs. He has always been, in my mind, a kid. And now he is an adult. He is in the Army, and he is now a small cog in the machine of war. The reality of that struck me so hard that I tried to blurt out all the things that I would have if I had been given the chance, even though its too late now.

While I respect the profession of citizen-soldier and know that it is a necessity, I can't just shut up and throw a yellow ribbon magnet on the back of my car. While the security of this country often depends on young Americans answering the call to arms THIS call was a wrong fucking number.

Why did I write this letter? Even after agonizing over it and finally sending it, I still cannot say. What am I hoping he will do with the ideas, opinions and flat out rants contained within its pages? I don't know. Part of me hopes that he will undergo some kind of epiphany, that he will find some way to get out without dishonor.

Why did I write this letter? I guess it was for the most selfish of reasons. Because I just do not know what I would do if I had to go to a funeral and see him in a casket. How could I possibly handle seeing his parents weaping over his grave? The simple answer is that I couldn't. When the concept rears it ugly head rational thought seems to evaporate. There is an anger, a rage. Who is to blame? Who is responsible? Why did this kid die when those who never served, and who's kids will never serve get to live out their comfy lives? I find myself with a headache, clenching my jaw. I have to take deep breath and go for a short walk to put such thought out of my mind.

I don't know how he'll take this letter. It might annoy or piss him off. It wasn't my intent to offend or insult him, only to make him think. Benjamin Frankin said that "Thinking is one of the most difficult things a man can do, which is why so few engage in it". Will I get a reply? I doubt it. He is from an age of emails, instant and text messages. But one can hope.

I told you...we're an anarcho-syndicalist commune...

In case you missed it, the Island of Sark has just joined the 17th century and given up feudalism.

Horaaaay! Welcome to to...wait, what?

According to the Times UK the small island, which was settled in order to keep it free of Pirates in the 16th century never quite got rid of the landowners-get-a-say-and-you-piddly-lot-don't phase. But fear not. Universal suffrage has been agreed upon at last. Europe's last fiefdom is no more.

These guys had a real freakin' Seneschal for god's sake.

Hack wheeeze cough

Back from Biloxi but sick as a dog. CoastCon was a bit of a letdown. The convention center isn't done with renovations, attendance was a bit light and no one had any damn money.

But I'm still glad I went.

I wanted to see Biloxi again. See how it was faring. I got a chance to drive around a bit and I must say that things are looking pretty good on the surface. The mountains of debris are gone. The uprooted trees, boats and smashed houses. There are empty concrete slabs along the coast, but there is also a flurry of building. Oddly, the coast looks better without the squat barge/casinos.

I drove by the stadium where I worked witht he Salvation Army. They are still there. Dedicated folks those guys. When I went by the church where we had stayed with Hands On USA there was no sign of them. Packed up and helping out elsewhere I guess.

There was no time to get to New Orleans. And If there had been I might have been depressed by the lack of progress.

While in Biloxi I stayed with Vlad and his lovely wife, which is always a hoot. We ate well and told stories of Pennsics past. I would like to have stayed another day down there but Lindsey had school projects and I had to start work on the new booth at the Great Lakes Faire. Rossana and I made a good start. Raking up and clearing out the last remnants of the old RenBoots stuff. Technically this booth has the largest sales area of all out shops! There is painting and carpentry and decorating to do but we have time for that. I can't tell you how nice it is not to have to tent a show. It's a pant to set up, keep dry, take down and store a tent.

With the better weather the house can be tended to. Rossana had trimmed back the grape vines and I have started to gather up lawn debris. Lots of house projects to do. And never enough time.

Vlad land

Vlad land
Originally uploaded by stevepack

Lindsey and I are in Biloxi for Coastcon and are staying with our
friend Vlad who sells WWII collectables and happens to have a great
and twisted sense of humor. This was what greeted us when we brought
our bags in.

I'm hoping to get the chance to take a look around the city to see how
things are developing. Rossana is in NC to finish the last weekend of
the fair. Maybe she'll get lucky and get at least one sunny day.

Dangerocity + Tools

I think that it is necessary to come up with a new scale for measuring projects. I humbly suggest this new scale be called something like "TheTool/Dangerocity Scale" or simply the TDS

You see, it doesn't matter how complex a project is. It's how many tools you use to complete it, how much danger was involved and how badly you hurt yourself doing it. Changing your oil is fairly simple. You only need a new tools and the risks aren't that high. And yet many people still manage to injure themselves or break parts of the car. But you still did it yourself and you deserve credit for it. It was far harder and more dangerous than you had guessed and there should be some way to quantify that.

Yesterdays project seemed simple. In preparation for Spring I wanted to sharpen the blades on my lawn mover. Of course I called up Grimm, because he's done this before.

Or not.

After staring at the mower for a bit and poking it with a stick we decided to jack up the front end rather than figure out how to disconnect the deck.

Tools used: Jack, board, bricks

Once the front of the mower was precariously balanced atop some bricks we crawled under the deck with a grinder to get at the blades.

Tools used: Body grinder, carpet, scraper, extension cord, safety glasses.

We set to work but after the first blade we could see that one of the blades was pretty chewed up from being used as an impromptu mulcher during regular mowing operations. After some more grunting we thought we'd try to take the blades off the deck so we could work on them without constantly being remonded that we were old and fat.

Tools used: Compressor, air wrench, socket.

Indeed one of the blades was gouged pretty bad. One might consider simply getting a new blade but Grimm is well known for his 'frugalocity'.

"Why drive into town and spend money. You've got a welder! Weld a new bead along the edge and then grind it down." This seemed like an almost sane idea at first. We pulled off the blades and set up the welding rig.

Tools used: Stick welder (gloves, mask, hammer, rods), 2 saw horses, slab of marble to weld on

With new material added to the edge of the blade we then ground it to shape and generally cleaned up our previous work. We reinstalled the blades and I decided to grease the fittings.

Tools used: Grease gun, needle nosed pliers to remove old grease tube, paper towels and gunk remover to clean up the grease which went everywhere.

In the end I used a crapload of tools to achieve a pretty simple task. I would give this job a 7 out of 10. It would have been a 8 but neither of us injured ourselves during the proceedings.

Next week I may dig a hole. It will take some work but I'm sure I can jack that TDS up to 9 somehow.

ALL ONE!!! ALL CLEAN!!

If you don't know about Dr. Bronners soap you must live in a cave. It's pretty amazing stuff. Not just because it works, is biodegradable and makes your private areas tingle when using it. No!

Its the label that really gets your attention. Go check it out.