Alright true believers, let's get this train back on its tracks! Most of you are around the same age as I am, so you will understand where I am coming from. Today's topic is about kids. Most, if not all of us have them. All of us were them. What do I have to say about them is the question.
Long ago and far away, when the majority of us were still children, we didn't have computers. Most households didn't have video game systems. We had bikes, we had baseball gloves, we had footballs, we had each other. My mother would tell my sister and I to go outside and play. There were no amplifying instructions, just go...play. The neighborhood kids would get together at someone's house, or at the elementary school, or in a field and we would just play. We would play freeze tag, climb trees, ride bikes, play frisbee, or throw a baseball. We didn't need directions, we just played. As long as we were home when our mothers told us to be, all was well. I understand that times are different and kids can't just be left to roam the neighborhoods anymore like we once did. The adults of today cannot be trusted. But that isn't the point here.
The kids of today take being told to go outside like it is some form of punishment. I tell my boys to go outside and play because it is 70 degrees and sunny in February, and they ask me why they have to go out. You would think that I had just told them that they were being dropped into the coliseum to face the lions. They would be content to sit inside all day, every day, with their PS3 or Wii, or computer, or hand held gaming system. They treat the outside like it is some sort of evil troll that they need to hide from. Don't get me wrong, I love video games as much, if not more than the next guy. I also love being out on a baseball diamond in May, or out fishing on a lake in June. I would rather be coaching or playing some kind of sport than be cooped up in the house staring at a television screen.
We grew up in simpler times than our children. Technology has made them soft. Kids of today are slaves to technology, and while I do believe that it makes them smarter knowing how to use a computer, I also believe that it makes them slightly anti social. I believe that video games increase their hand-eye coordination, but takes away their drive to play team sports that would benefit from this increased coordination.
Pushing 90 degrees in the Summer time..why don't you guys go outside? "It's too hot". 50 degrees in January, why don't you guys go outside? "It's too cold". I feel like I am trapped in a strange version of Goldilocks and the Three Bears! I remember being told to go outside and not to come back in until it was dinner time. I would spend 10 hours outside each day on my summer vacation. These were days when I had no plans. No baseball games, no pool parties, just your average day. I would round up the kids in the neighborhood who were also sent outside for the day and we would just play. What has changed so drastically over the years to make a Summer day too hot and a Winter day too cold?
How can I become a grumpy old man who yells, "you kids get off of my lawn" if the kids aren't even outside to yell at? How can I yell out my door, "Dinner time!" to my kids when they are locked away in their rooms? It is sad to think that I can send my children instant messages to tell them it is time for dinner rather than yell out in the back yard. I have always worried that the day would come when the swingset in the back yard would be empty because the kids had grown up and moved out. I did not think that day would come when my boys were 10 and 6, and it was empty because they were playing on their computers instead of on the swingset. It isn't just my kids though, I drive through a neighborhood that I know is full of kids, yet I don't see any. It is scary to know that Generation X has spawned Generation Xbox. Alright, I guess that is all I have to say for now. Until next time, my fine feathered friends....Stay Salty.
-Salty Dog
Monday, March 1, 2010
Saturday, February 27, 2010
A Decade Overnight
Okay true believers, it is time for a rest stop for your friend and humble narrator. From the beginning, I have told you that this was going to be an outlet for me. An outlet of emotions that if kept inside, would eat me alive. You have been privy to the rage, to the love of my wife, to the lack of tolerance of stupidity....but none of you have seen what is boiling inside of me as I write. I thought about not even writing this one because it is a side of me that I don't like to show. I know that a lot of you just began to pay more attention because of that last sentence. Not to be rude, but this blog is not for any of you...this one is for me.
I grew up in Upstate New York. Not Buffalo upstate, but upstate nonetheless. I moved to Hyde Park when I was 8 years old. I was in Mrs. Wager's third grade class. I moved in mid school year, so I was the new kid. I had one person that I knew from visiting my Aunt and Uncle over the years, but that was all. The day I walked in, I was befriended by a boy that would become close enough to me for me to call my brother. His name was Scott Oliver Coomes, and he was my best friend for the next 20 years. Scott and I did everything together, whether it were good or bad. We were on the same baseball teams growing up, the same football teams. Our parents considered each of us their "other child". As we grew older, Scott was the best man at my wedding, and I at his. My brother Bobo.
In 1991, I left Hyde Park to join the Navy. Scott wrote to me in Boot Camp, came to visit me in Connecticut, and then again when I was moved to Virginia. Scott had a daughter in 1992, her name was Jordan Marie Coomes. For those of you that can do the math, that means that she is 18 now. He brought her down with him the last time he visited me in January of 2000. She was 8 years old. My wife and I had just had our first son the month before, and Scott changed his diaper one time so that when he was older he could say, "hey, I remember when I changed your diaper"...a bit of an embarrassment point that any good Uncle wants to have in his arsenal.
Two months later, March 6th, 2000, I received an email from Scott's dad. I woke up early that morning to check my mail before work. The email just said "Call me as soon as you get this, no matter what time it is." Scott had been in trouble all the time...never anything serious, but in trouble. I figured that he had gotten arrested or something, but called Chris at 5 a.m. anyway. He answered the phone and I said, "what did he do now?" Chris told me to sit down. This is such a cliche statement, but I did it anyway. I said, "Okay, I am sitting, what did he do?" The next words to come out of his mouth buckled my knees. My brother, whom I had talked to not three days earlier, had killed himself. I couldn't speak, I couldn't walk, all I could do was cry. I tried to explain to my wife what had happened, but could barely get the words out. I do not believe that she had ever seen me in that state in all the time that I had known her. She had to call my bosses at work and explain to them why I was going to be late.
Over the next few days, I was in a daze. We drove to Hyde Park for the funeral. I don't know as I remember the drive there. The only thing I remember was being in the funeral home and seeing the closed casket with a picture of Bobo on an easel. We went to the cemetery behind Pete's Mobil on 9. As we stood there listening to the preacher, I looked across the cemetery and saw my father standing there. My father had left work that day to see the burial of his "other son".
I bring this topic up today because next week will mark 10 years that my brother has been gone. It seems like only yesterday that I received that email from Chris, hence the title A Decade Overnight. I have not forgotten him, nor will I ever. I see him everywhere. I see him in my dreams, I see him in his daughter (who through the grace of Facebook, I still have contact with), I see him every time that I watch a Yankee game. I do not believe in god, I do not believe that everyone dies for a reason, but I do believe that somehow Bobo is still with me in everything that I do. For all of my friends, I like you all very much. But my brother Scott...I loved him, and I miss him more and more every day. So here's to you Bobo...
- Salty Dog
I grew up in Upstate New York. Not Buffalo upstate, but upstate nonetheless. I moved to Hyde Park when I was 8 years old. I was in Mrs. Wager's third grade class. I moved in mid school year, so I was the new kid. I had one person that I knew from visiting my Aunt and Uncle over the years, but that was all. The day I walked in, I was befriended by a boy that would become close enough to me for me to call my brother. His name was Scott Oliver Coomes, and he was my best friend for the next 20 years. Scott and I did everything together, whether it were good or bad. We were on the same baseball teams growing up, the same football teams. Our parents considered each of us their "other child". As we grew older, Scott was the best man at my wedding, and I at his. My brother Bobo.
In 1991, I left Hyde Park to join the Navy. Scott wrote to me in Boot Camp, came to visit me in Connecticut, and then again when I was moved to Virginia. Scott had a daughter in 1992, her name was Jordan Marie Coomes. For those of you that can do the math, that means that she is 18 now. He brought her down with him the last time he visited me in January of 2000. She was 8 years old. My wife and I had just had our first son the month before, and Scott changed his diaper one time so that when he was older he could say, "hey, I remember when I changed your diaper"...a bit of an embarrassment point that any good Uncle wants to have in his arsenal.
Two months later, March 6th, 2000, I received an email from Scott's dad. I woke up early that morning to check my mail before work. The email just said "Call me as soon as you get this, no matter what time it is." Scott had been in trouble all the time...never anything serious, but in trouble. I figured that he had gotten arrested or something, but called Chris at 5 a.m. anyway. He answered the phone and I said, "what did he do now?" Chris told me to sit down. This is such a cliche statement, but I did it anyway. I said, "Okay, I am sitting, what did he do?" The next words to come out of his mouth buckled my knees. My brother, whom I had talked to not three days earlier, had killed himself. I couldn't speak, I couldn't walk, all I could do was cry. I tried to explain to my wife what had happened, but could barely get the words out. I do not believe that she had ever seen me in that state in all the time that I had known her. She had to call my bosses at work and explain to them why I was going to be late.
Over the next few days, I was in a daze. We drove to Hyde Park for the funeral. I don't know as I remember the drive there. The only thing I remember was being in the funeral home and seeing the closed casket with a picture of Bobo on an easel. We went to the cemetery behind Pete's Mobil on 9. As we stood there listening to the preacher, I looked across the cemetery and saw my father standing there. My father had left work that day to see the burial of his "other son".
I bring this topic up today because next week will mark 10 years that my brother has been gone. It seems like only yesterday that I received that email from Chris, hence the title A Decade Overnight. I have not forgotten him, nor will I ever. I see him everywhere. I see him in my dreams, I see him in his daughter (who through the grace of Facebook, I still have contact with), I see him every time that I watch a Yankee game. I do not believe in god, I do not believe that everyone dies for a reason, but I do believe that somehow Bobo is still with me in everything that I do. For all of my friends, I like you all very much. But my brother Scott...I loved him, and I miss him more and more every day. So here's to you Bobo...
- Salty Dog
Monday, February 22, 2010
In The Navy....You Can Sail The Seven Seas!
Maybe YMCA was more your favorite Village People song? Sorry, maybe next time I'll make the effort to take a Village People poll. But I digress. What brings us all together today, children? My Navy, and our country.
So, during my 19+ years of Naval service I have seen it all. Been all over the world, met all kinds of people both military and civilian. I have served beside some of the most patriotic men that you have ever met in your life. They were there to defend their country, the paycheck was a bonus! I have met many strong guys, both mentally and physically...and I was proud to have served with them. Did I care what their sexual orientation was? "Whoa there Salty, this is sacred ground you are stepping on!" Hear me out....
As everyone knows, the President is trying to repeal the military's "Don't ask, don't tell" Policy. For those of you who have been living in a cave since the Clinton administration, let me fill you in. The "don't ask, don't tell" policy, enacted under President "Slick Willie" Clinton in 1993, bars openly gay, lesbian and bisexual individuals from serving in the U.S. military, but prevents the military from asking a service member's sexual orientation. It has been a political lightning rod since its implementation. My question about this has always been a political one. How is it that the left leaning Democrat who loves the poor, the gay, the minorities...the Democrat (and yes, I am a registered Democrat, so fuck off before you start claiming I am some lean to the right, bible thumping Republican) is the one that enacted this policy that basically told the gay, lesbian, and bisexual portion of the Armed Forces that they could not be themselves? They were forced to hide who they were if they wanted to continue to serve their country. Thousands who were found out, were discharged from service.
The current Commander in Chief feels that it is time to repeal this ridiculous act. I, for one, am with him. I have seen too many good sailors sent packing not because of their lack of qualifications, not because of gross misconduct, not because of inability to do their job. Nay, they were sent packing because of who and how they chose to love. I know people that got out of the Navy because they didn't want to have to hide who they were anymore. Good, highly qualified individuals turned their back on the Navy (which would not accept them as they were) because they had to act like someone that they were not. Let me tell you, true believers, if I am fighting a fire in a main engine room, or firing 25mm rounds at an incoming attack boat, or doing an emergency anchorage because the ship is going to run aground....I do not ask the guy next to me about his sexual orientation! Now, would I feel uncomfortable showering with a guy that I knew was gay? Honestly..no. I do not think for one minute that a gay sailor is going to come up to me and make a move on me in the shower. The homophobes that are going to use this as their reasoning have more issues than fear of homosexuals.
This is a "hot button issue" in the military right now, and I can't understand why. Things like this make me feel like the old salty dog that I am. "The Navy I am in now isn't the same one that I joined!" It is obviously time for me to retire NOT because of this current proposal..but because of how the people are reacting to it. The fact that someone's sexual preference is a determining factor in any situation is enough to make me sick. If you want to fight for your country, and are willing to put your life on the line right next to me...I don't care if you like guys, girls, or both. As long as you are qualified to do your job and you are watching my back, all are welcome. As a nation built on the principle of equality, we should recognize and welcome change that will build a stronger, more cohesive military. Until next time...Stay Salty.
Salty Dog
So, during my 19+ years of Naval service I have seen it all. Been all over the world, met all kinds of people both military and civilian. I have served beside some of the most patriotic men that you have ever met in your life. They were there to defend their country, the paycheck was a bonus! I have met many strong guys, both mentally and physically...and I was proud to have served with them. Did I care what their sexual orientation was? "Whoa there Salty, this is sacred ground you are stepping on!" Hear me out....
As everyone knows, the President is trying to repeal the military's "Don't ask, don't tell" Policy. For those of you who have been living in a cave since the Clinton administration, let me fill you in. The "don't ask, don't tell" policy, enacted under President "Slick Willie" Clinton in 1993, bars openly gay, lesbian and bisexual individuals from serving in the U.S. military, but prevents the military from asking a service member's sexual orientation. It has been a political lightning rod since its implementation. My question about this has always been a political one. How is it that the left leaning Democrat who loves the poor, the gay, the minorities...the Democrat (and yes, I am a registered Democrat, so fuck off before you start claiming I am some lean to the right, bible thumping Republican) is the one that enacted this policy that basically told the gay, lesbian, and bisexual portion of the Armed Forces that they could not be themselves? They were forced to hide who they were if they wanted to continue to serve their country. Thousands who were found out, were discharged from service.
The current Commander in Chief feels that it is time to repeal this ridiculous act. I, for one, am with him. I have seen too many good sailors sent packing not because of their lack of qualifications, not because of gross misconduct, not because of inability to do their job. Nay, they were sent packing because of who and how they chose to love. I know people that got out of the Navy because they didn't want to have to hide who they were anymore. Good, highly qualified individuals turned their back on the Navy (which would not accept them as they were) because they had to act like someone that they were not. Let me tell you, true believers, if I am fighting a fire in a main engine room, or firing 25mm rounds at an incoming attack boat, or doing an emergency anchorage because the ship is going to run aground....I do not ask the guy next to me about his sexual orientation! Now, would I feel uncomfortable showering with a guy that I knew was gay? Honestly..no. I do not think for one minute that a gay sailor is going to come up to me and make a move on me in the shower. The homophobes that are going to use this as their reasoning have more issues than fear of homosexuals.
This is a "hot button issue" in the military right now, and I can't understand why. Things like this make me feel like the old salty dog that I am. "The Navy I am in now isn't the same one that I joined!" It is obviously time for me to retire NOT because of this current proposal..but because of how the people are reacting to it. The fact that someone's sexual preference is a determining factor in any situation is enough to make me sick. If you want to fight for your country, and are willing to put your life on the line right next to me...I don't care if you like guys, girls, or both. As long as you are qualified to do your job and you are watching my back, all are welcome. As a nation built on the principle of equality, we should recognize and welcome change that will build a stronger, more cohesive military. Until next time...Stay Salty.
Salty Dog
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