You ever have one of those days?  Or weeks?

Yeah, I thought so.  At least I don’t feel so all alone. It happens to the best of us. Even the truly gifted (which I’m not one of…) can still trip over air every now and then.  And then you look back, right?  Like there was actually something there (but there wasn’t…you’re just a klutz).

Not talking about long-standing issues, or things that just keep you out of the norm for extended periods of time – I’m talking about when things just don’t go well, and you have an instance (or streak) of bad luck that just knocks you off-center for a bit.

As many of you know, I’ve had a life of interesting occupations that tend to be a bit on the physical (and sometimes hazardous) side…with which come the inevitable bangs and bumps, and sometimes a few more serious owwees…  The kind that stick with you.

And get worse with age (just sayin’…)  And overuse (because I’m not bright enough to stop).

So…I had one of those (couple of) weeks. Still working my way out of it as we speak.  But first, some context.

Now don’t get the impression I’m whining here, I’m not.  But these are a brief list of some of the reasons I have some of these issues that lead up to the last few weeks.

Besides being blown up a few times, a couple of parachuting mishaps and various other little incidents in the military, I’ve fallen through a roof at a fire (when I was a firefighter), and been in more than my share of scuffles and knock-abouts during my career in law enforcement.

Due to these and other incidents, I have three spinal fractures (base of neck, midway between my shoulder blades, and mid-lower back); a couple pieces of shrapnel; eye, ear (hearing/balance) and head issues (no wise-cracks here…I’m watching you!); two blown-out knees, and a few other marginal parts and pieces.  (again…hold your tongue!)

Over the years I’ve learned to deal with some of these, and work around the others.  Unless I get bull-headed and just do what I want to anyway…which doesn’t always work out well.  At least I’ve never been accused of being the brightest bulb in the box!

Stubborn (I prefer “determined”), idiot (“independent”), what the heck were you thinking (“innovative”), bull-headed (“self-motivated”), you just never learn, do you (“focused”), and a few other terms seem to be frequently used.  But bright?  Not so much.

At least I don’t (normally) say “hold my beer”, or “watch this”!  I just refuse to be defined by my well-earned limitations. They do, however, tend to impose restrictions, or step on my brakes every now and then.  Like the last few weeks…

So…there I was.  Starting out on a great adventure!

Well, actually, I was just sitting down on the floor (a big no-no for me…no back support) with my  Dremel tool  in my hands, getting ready to file down my dog Freedom’s toenails.  He screams like a baby if you try to cut the front ones (they’re very sensitive), so they have to be filed.  This is fairly new to me, I’ve only done a couple of his nails once before, and I had to stop to rest my back.  I figured I’d just do two or three at a time, with plenty of breaks in between.

As I bent over to take his front paw in my hand, selecting the nail to be filed, and turned on the tool, the lower back slid out of place.  When it goes out, the vertebrae mis-align, and pinch the nerves (which is excruciating), which causes the muscles to spasm, and further mis-align the spine…and hold it (out of) place.  It’s like a railroad spike being driven in with a sledge hammer…only much sharper.  And it is constant, not just immediate.

When the back goes, I’m down (in bed) for a week or two, or for up to a month or so, before I can finally get up (with help) into my walker, and shuffle (with help) to the bathroom and back, for about another week or two.  Then, if things are going well, I can transition over to my forearm crutches for a week or two (sometimes longer), and hobble around the house (with help initially, then under supervision), even sitting in a chair (with help and back support) for short periods of time.  Finally, I can transition over to my cane, and move about unsupervised, even leaving the house for short excursions until I’m finally able to walk again unassisted…in about a week or two.

The fun part is, if my neck or upper back go out (and yes, they go out independently, and generally with no warning) for doing mundane things like pulling the skin off a turkey neck while I prepared Thanksgiving dinner for my mother (who was visiting a few years ago) and my family, turning slightly, and dropping the skin into the trash can.  As I turned with my arm out slightly to drop the skin, the neck went out.  For no reason.

So, like I was saying, if they go out, they cause spasms, which immediately pull the lower back out, and here we go again…

Back to this time.  I’ll try to wrap it up.  I was down in bed, and as I was helped into bed, my leg dragged slightly (I can’t pick them up after the back goes), and my left knee cracked, and went out.  It’s the worst one (from one of the explosions…the right one is from the parachute mishap), but luckily, it didn’t hurt that much – because the back masked the knee pain.

A couple of weeks later, as I’m up and moving around (Yay!  This one was a short one), I went outside and was moving around, but was still not fully functional because of the imbalance of the back and knee, and some effects of the medication, I lost situational awareness, backed up slightly, and tripped – backwards – over the tongue of my son’s boat trailer.  Yup…didn’t even notice a full-sized bass boat on a trailer right behind me…

So I fell backwards over the trailer hitch (which is just over knee-high) onto the driveway pavement, jammed my right wrist (which ended up being wrapped for a few days, and is still painful today…with my still sore, but basically functional back, and sore knee), and in keeping my head from hitting the pavement, hurt my neck.

That’s ok.  You can go ahead and laugh.  What a frigging couple of weeks!!!

I’m hoping to fix lunch today without cutting off any fingers…

If You’re Really Lucky…
​By Jim Kuiken

You get to meet someone. Special.

I’m going to take you on what looks like a trip down memory lane, a composite of previous articles and posts…but what actually isn’t. It’s a reiteration of the basic truth of what makes our country, its people, and especially those very few – Great (and no, that’s not a political reference, don’t get all riled up – it just happens to be the appropriate word). 

I’m going to talk about Heroes (again). Because we should. Often.

Last week I went down to the National Museum of the Marine Corps in Quantico VA, to attend a talk and book signing by one young man who I’ve spoken of before. Medal of Honor recipient, retired Marine Corporal Kyle Carpenter.

​I’ve had the honor of knowing more than a couple Medal of Honor recipients, so while I was there at the Marine Corps Museum, I walked down the hall that contains exhibits of the major wars that the Marine Corps has been involved in, to the Medal of Honor display. 

Of course, these are just the Marines who have received the Medal (I know some Army guys who’ve received them as well – but this IS the Marine Corps museum…) I was just looking to see if I could find the ones I knew on the wall. I’m privileged to call these men friends (and now one new acquaintance)…and all but one are still living. And there they were.

Lots of folks think (big H) Heroes are tough guys/gals. Bad@$$es. In some cases they are. But lots of those who make sure you know how big and bad they are…aren’t.

Actually, real Heroes are that way because of something totally different than you may think. I posted a picture a couple of years ago of a young soldier that gave her life in defense of her fellow soldiers, trying to save them.  She (like most of them) was so very young…and so very selfless.

I wrote a comment about her, which others then picked up and quoted. “Courage knows no gender.  Courage knows no race.  Courage comes from within, from a deeply ingrained sense of duty, from service to something bigger than just yourself…from love.”

It’s not bravado. For most real Heroes, it’s because they care. They feel a sense of duty, of service. Trust me, there are some serious Heroes out there who go unnoticed. ​

A couple of years ago, I dedicated the following song to my youngest sister, because it (in my mind) describes her.

It also fits Kyle. Someone I can respect – selfless, humble and kind. Exactly what I expected, for a Hero like him. If you’re really lucky, you meet one every now and then.

But this is civilian skydiving, and I’d have to go tandem…strapped to an instructor.  Some of the guys asked me if I’d be willing to do that, and my response was that I could sit there on my macho ego and look down my nose at something so demeaning to an experienced military freefall qualified tough guy…or I could just hook myself to someone else and go have some fun! ​

I’ll let you guess which way I went…   (Egos are so cumbersome to drag around)
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Now I just have to go get my civilian skydiving license, and renew my SCUBA diving certification!! ​​​

​Dual Fool (as we used to say)

It actually starts as far back as the Revolutionary War…with “Molly Pitcher”.  Legend has it that “she” took her husband’s place when he was killed, picking up his musket, and actually being wounded in battle.  That is not exactly true, and “Molly Pitcher” is actually a composite description of at least two women, who both took their husband’s place on cannon crews, in two different battles in two different places.  One (Mary Hays) came to be known as “Sergeant Molly” (first woman to ever receive a warrant as a non-commissioned officer (NCO), by General George Washington himself), who at one point during the battle, “a British musket ball or cannonball flew between her legs and tore off the bottom of her skirt. She supposedly said something to the effect of, "Well, that could have been worse," and went back to loading the cannon.”  The other was “Captain Molly” (Margaret Corbin), who was wounded in action, and became the first woman in the United States to receive a military pension. ​

And who can forget Dr. Mary Edwards Walker, M.D., who was a Prisoner of War, and was the first (and only, to date) woman to be awarded the Medal of Honor, for her actions in the Civil War?  Ironically, “Walker is the only woman to receive the medal and one of only eight civilians to receive it. Her name was deleted from the Army Medal of Honor Roll in 1917 (along with over 900 other, male MOH recipients); however, it was restored in 1977”.  She was inducted into the National Women's Hall of Fame in 2000. ​

I’d love to catalogue all these courageous women, from all the wars and battles up to today, but there are just too many of them.  My point is they’ve been around as long as this country has, and have been in the fight from day one – and they’re still out there on the battlefield today.

And don’t think they’re just out there in “admin”, motor transport, as cooks, or any of the traditional places they used to put females in the military.  They’re all over, in almost every career field!  There are female Army Rangers, Navy Submariners, Marine F-35 Pilots, Infantry small unit leaders (these are two Marines, one who was promoted out of her billet, and the other who is a ground Intelligence Marine, and qualified Sniper), as well as numerous Senior leaders (Generals, Admirals, etc…) – including Infantry Division leaders…all traditional male roles.

I know a lot of folks still don’t believe these women belong in these units…especially combat arms – and for sure, not in any of the “special operations” billets, like Army Rangers or Special Forces, etc – but you’d be surprised (I’ll tell you about that in a minute).
​
But first, let’s clear one thing up.  Yeah, I’m a hard-core knuckle-dragging combat wounded 30-year Marine Sergeant Major (and Force Recon, to boot), but my personal opinion is that any legally qualified person who can pass all the qualifications (without changing them to allow lower standards or giving any special considerations, etc.) for a particular position, should be allowed to fill that position, unless or until they no longer meet the standards (just like anyone else).

So, as one of those “special operations” folks myself, I recognize some people excel so far above and beyond even those “special operators”, that I am in awe of them.  Here is one such person – Chief Petty Officer Shannon Kent.  She (along with many others) spent pretty much her whole career in special operations, with the SEALs, Special Forces and other agencies, in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, etc… ​

And there are many more women in special operations, as well as most areas of the military.

Which is why I was so happy to have been invited to the 32nd Annual Joint Women’s leadership Symposium last month!  (See, I told you I’d come back to this… ;)  It was an action-packed invigorating event, with breakout sessions, great dinner speakers, fantastic panels, networking, and just general good camaraderie!

So…there I was, a fairly junior, brand new “wet behind the ears” Border Patrol Agent, assigned to the Calexico California Station…

There’s always one thing that’s bugged the (bleep) outta me. People judging the book by its cover. Assuming since I’m whatever (not large, not overtly muscular, not assertive (that one’s a serious mis-judgement), etc., etc…) that I’m not capable, competent, etc.

This time, the general consensus was that I was a newbie. Ok, so I was – to the Border Patrol. However, I was previously a Recon Marine (Platoon Sergeant, when I left active duty), a multi-year Correctional Officer, SRT and SWAT member, Sheriff’s Deputy, Immigration Detention Officer (working with the Patrol), etc.

I get it that I had to learn all the Border Patrol stuff, but I wasn’t new to operating in austere environments in small teams, facing armed opponents (successfully), to law enforcement, or even to the Immigration and Naturalization Service.

However, I was junior – in rank, time in service, and several other ways – but I’ve never had a problem with starting at the bottom, earning my stripes, and learning the ropes. I actually like that!

In late 1989, I’d been around for a few months, and was starting to get a reputation for a real go-getter, so they had partnered me with “Jim”. He was a salty BP Agent, had been around the block, and had a penchant for getting into situations others might avoid as too “risky” – my kind of guy. We worked well together, and soon had that bond that comes from working closely in tight situations, and knowing that your partner has your back. He was one of those typical desert dwellers…skinny, burnt mahogany and wiry muscles. And he smoked like a chimney…

At this point, with the background laid out I’d like to say “It was a dark and stormy night”, but let’s get real. It’s Calexico California!  It’s a desert environment, with a climate much like Baghdad, Iraq. It was a blazing hot (well over a 100 degrees), dry, dusty, eye-wateringly bright day, just before noon.

Jim wanted a sit-down lunch, and we were out in the sector we called the “west desert” (which should be an indicator…a desert within a desert), and there was really only one place out there. The Mount Signal Café, on the corner of Hwy 98 and Brockman Rd. We headed out there, ordered our ginormous Sweet Ice Teas, he ordered a cheeseburger, and I ordered the taco plate – their specialty.

Just like in the movies…as Jim took his first bite of greasy cheeseburger, and I had just picked up my first crispy (except where it was laying in the “salad” juice…) taco, the radios came alive.  It was the spotter plane, so high up you couldn’t hear it or even know it was there unless you knew exactly where to look.  He called a “group” (of illegal aliens) crossing just upstream from the “check” (a vehicle crossing over the All American Canal – which, although it was technically north of the US/Mexico border, was the functional equivalent of the border).

I could tell by the lazy drawl that it was Wayne Wa. I’d never met Wayne, but you could tell when he was on the radio. He sounded just like John Wayne in some of his old westerns! I could just see the hat tipped back on his head, and a piece of straw in the corner of his mouth. I didn’t know where he was from, but I was guessing somewhere in rural Texas.

“Thur crossin’ up yonder at thuh check by Mandrapa an’ Rockwood road.  Looks like a load, thr’s a white van approachin’.  Anyone available?”

Jim let him know where we were, and that we were responding, as we dropped our food, ran outside and jumped into our slightly beat up, heavily dusty Dodge Ram 4X4. With the windows down (you couldn’t put them up in the summer because the air conditioner would overheat and start a car fire), we spun a “doughnut” in the gravel parking lot, eating our own dust, and started down Brockman road, when Wayne told us to turn around, and head east (towards Calexico) on the 98, because they had just loaded up the van, and were headed north on Rockwood, towards 98.

We knew if they hit 98, they’d take a left and head west through the mountains, and come out on US 8 by Ocotillo, heading toward San Diego, so we had to cut them off.  Jim stood on the gas, and we shot down to Rockwood, turning south towards the border, and both vehicles saw each other at the same time.

We were heading south and they were heading north, when they cut a hard right turn onto Anza Road, heading back towards Calexico.  At that rate of speed, if they hit town, folks could be seriously hurt or killed…so we had to stop them before they got close.  I got on the radio and called ahead, and several BP vehicles started out from the Calexico Station headed towards us, hoping to get there before they entered town.

As we were getting close to town, we came up on a sharp left turn in the road, and we were afraid the van would lose it and roll, but he cut another sharp right off the road onto a small dirt road beside the cement canal, headed back towards Mexico. In a deliberate act, he veered left and crashed into the cement buttress at the head of the small canal, knowing we would stop and take care of the injured, and he could make it back to the border canal, just yards away…and escape.

Jim cranked the wheel over, and we stopped just inches from the van as I flung open the passenger door, and thoroughly pissed at the driver for endangering a van full of people (a couple of who were pregnant mothers with children, as we learned later), took off after him at full speed.  I knew other BP vehicles were arriving, and that they would be helping those in the van.

As I came around the front of the van at a full-speed run, I dove into a flying tackle, hitting him mid-body, and we both went off into the cement ditch, slamming down with me on top of him.  As I put the cuffs on him he looked up, and there was Jim, on the other side of the canal looking down with a grin, holding the shotgun to cover me if it had been needed.

I remember hearing “Was that yeu “Kaken”? Damn, that was a hell of a tackle!”, as Wayne started to laugh, and signed off.

After all that got settled out, I got called up to Sector Headquarters in El Centro a couple of days later.  Some of the bosses wanted to see who I was, and give me a pat on the back for stopping the guy who didn’t show any human regard for his “cargo”, including the two pregnant women, when he deliberately crashed that van so he could get away.

While I was up there I got a tour, and as I was leaving, I saw a small Asian (turned out to be Chinese) man in a green flight suit walking towards me.  As he got close, he smiled, stuck out his hand and said “Yeu Kaken? Dam, boy, that was some (bleep) down thr thuh othur day, wadnit?”

I just stood there for a second, frozen. What my eyes were seeing didn’t match with what my ears were hearing. A small Asian man with John Wayne’s voice!! My brain disconnected, unable to process… I managed to stammer out “yes Sir, it was some (bleep) alright!”

He gave my hand a final squeeze and smiled…and then (I’m not making this up), with his left hand he stuck the stub of a chewed cigar back in his mouth, said “Good on ‘ya boy!”, and clapped me on the back as he turned and headed back down the hallway. I just stood there watching his swagger as he went out the door. It finally connected that I had just met “John” Wayne Wa…

Turns out his family had immigrated, and he had grown up watching John Wayne movies, always wanting to be like him…and had legally changed his first name to Wayne…

And I had been irritated at others who had assumed things about me. Talk about misjudging a book by its cover! A small Chinese cowboy flying a US Border Patrol plane high over a desert by the Mexican border – doesn’t get any better than that!

• Last week of Jan – Second week of Feb:  Working with Military Veterans Advocacy (MVA) advocating on Capitol Hill (the Hill), primarily for the Blue Water Navy Vietnam Veterans bills (HR-299 on the House side, and S.1195 on the Senate side), as well as other Veterans Benefits bills, and meeting with numerous House and Senate offices and the Representatives and Senators, as well as Senate and House Veterans Affairs Committees.

 

• Two weekends a month (all year, through this coming August): Sponsoring my fellow Marine and friend, who as I mentioned before, I served with in the Marine Corps here in the US, as well as Kosovo.  He served honorably, and went on to serve in Iraq as well.  He was also very successful in his civilian career, reaching the very top of his profession.  Like a lot of those who served, the toll of his service weighed heavy, and eventually, coupled with other factors (such as mis/over-prescribed medications from the VA for his PTSd and TBI), contributed to the reason he was incarcerated.  He is now in a Pre-Release facility, and is doing (as I knew he would) very well.

 

• Last week of Feb – First week of Mar:  Back on the Hill with MVA, same advocacy.

 

• Feb 27th:  Interview and filming for a documentary about PTSD by Jess Arnold (WUSA9), supporting the PTSD photo gallery of artist Susan J. Barron, who put together Depicting The Invisible: A Portrait Series of Veterans Suffering from PTSD.

• Second week of Mar: Back on the Hill with MVA, same advocacy.

 

• Mar 14th: Meeting at the White House with their Legislative Liaison Director, with MVA, same advocacy.  

 

• Mar 19th:  Meeting with leaders from the local Rudiarius Motorcycle Club Chapter (Veterans, Fire, EMS, Law Enforcement) and the Fairfax H.O.G. Chapter about continued fundraising activities for this year (they have been long-time fundraisers for charitable causes in the local community).

 

• Mar 30th:  Freedom and I were invited to attend the Reception honoring the “Depicting the Invisible” portrait series, hosted by The Army and Navy Club, Washington DC.

 

• First week of Apr: Working on and supporting a book / documentary project, including a visit with my friend and fellow Marine (a MOH recipient) Harvey “Barney” Barnum.​

• May 1 – 5:  Freedom and I went on our annual Black Lake fishing trip with my good friend, and highly acclaimed award-winning author, Clint Goodwin, and his son-in-law and a couple of friends.  As always, Freedom was our good-luck fish-licker, and brought us success!  It was a much-needed get-away, and a great time. 

 

• May 15 – 24:  Trip to South Texas on family business…a big wedding!  A great time was had by all!

 

• Last week of May and first week of Jun:  Trip to New Orleans to redesign, reorganize and expand Military Veterans Advocacy from its current organizational structure and size, into a more robust, growing and self-sustaining organization that will be able to continue and expand its ability to carry out the MVA mission to support and assist military members, veterans and their families to protect their rights and benefits through Legislation, Litigation and Education.

 

• Second week of Jun:  Back on the Hill with MVA, same advocacy.

• And of course, all sorts of personal appointments, Freedom’s weekly appointment with Carol at the Vienna Pet Spaw, and general maintenance and yard work, etc…just to fill in the slow spots…  

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So much for the “explanation” (i.e., thinly veiled excuse…).  Sure, I was busy, but that is no excuse for not keeping up with my writing.  There were a few ones in there that would have interfered, like the weeks up on the Hill.  When we’re walking from office to office all day, seeing up to 8-10 Members or their staffs each day, there is literally no time to do anything else.

However, during those weeks where I was on trips…I can’t say with a straight face that I couldn’t have found a couple of spare hours per week to write the weekly posts and updates.  And probably work on a chapter or two in the book.

But I finally realized the BIG problem that was in my way (besides just not “doing the work”).  It all hit me square in the face when I read this outstanding article by Robert Glazer.  To Be Successful You Need to Say No Often.

I already knew this, several times over.  From my Marine training.  From my Dale Carnegie training in the 80’s.  From numerous other sources over the years.  I just let it slip back.  I just have a hard time saying No!

It’s the old adage.  “If you want something done, ask a busy person.”  I have always been a busy person, and I’ve always had people asking me to help, to do stuff.  And I keep doing it.

I did it so much, that I stopped doing my stuff!!  Well, guess what.  That stops now.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to drop the ball…but I AM going to shift what I do for people so I phase myself out of being needed.  Like reorganizing MVA so it is a growing, self-sustaining successful organization that doesn’t need me anymore! 

I’m going to say no – often.  And I’m going to focus back on what I need to do, for my writing, my personal life, and my family.  Life is like a roll of toilet paper.  The closer to the end you get, the faster it goes…and I don’t intend to turn into an empty cardboard roll before I get back on track!