The Guhrilla Chronicles

H1Z1 Chapter 13

2009-09-23T06:52:00.003-07:00

It's hard to explain the pride I felt as I watched my son anxiously copying me as I showed him how to load, cock and safe the 9mm pistols I had pulled from the cabinet for him. He didn't flinch, didn't complain, wasn't nervous; he simply watched and listened, making sure he understood the entirety of the process and then silently loading each pistol into it's shoulder holster, snapping them shut and turning to scan his surroundings. Such a trooper. Literally, a trooper.

We loaded as many shotgun and pistol rounds as we could find into our carts, grabbed gun cleaning kits, a couple of hydration backpacks and sundry other outdoor gear. Although there were only seven one-gallon tin cans of stove fuel, we grabbed them all - I knew we needed it, and we could always switch to gasoline once we ran out. We grabbed all the matches we could, and lighters. We grabbed sleeping bags, camouflage jackets, anything we could think of.

And we realized we were overloading our carts. We still needed food. And to leave enough room in the truck for us and the dogs to ride back.

"We'll have to make trips, Dad."

"I agree, but the more time we spend running back and forth between the store and the truck, the more we expose ourselves to attack."

"It's been a while since the last one, though, Dad."

"True. I wonder why."

The dogs remained silent, watching us, watching our surroundings. Their ears were pricked forward and their hackles never went down, but they remained silent. They were an excellent early warning system. I wondered, if we loosed them, whether they would take off or remain at our sides to protect us. I wasn't sure I wanted to try that experiment quite yet.

We began to make our way back to the truck, each struggling with our overloaded cart. Perhaps our impromptu shopping trip was a bit over the top, but who knew how long we'd have to stay in our mountain retreat?

Although we could hear the creatures still moving about the store, we were still unmolested. I wasn't sure why this bothered me, but it did. We'd killed several, we'd made a lot of noise and the zombies obviously wanted our flesh for food - why weren't they pursuing us?

At the doors, we had to stop and drag bodies out of the path of the carts. I grabbed Marie's remains and pulled them to the side. Looking up, I was surprised to see Bill doing his part, moving the man's body aside without being asked. I would have done it - but I was glad he was dealing so well with the situation.

We loaded our goods into the back of the truck, ammunition last, so we could get to it. We had plenty of room, but the look on Bill's face confirmed my thoughts: we needed a definite plan - a list of what else to get, so we could do it quickly and efficiently. Although, ideally, we'd take enough to fill the back of an 18-wheeler, we didn't have the time or the space. Weapons were one thing, but it was time to show a little more discernment in our preparations.

"Let's make a list, Son."

Bill simply nodded. We started discussing what we had and didn't have both at home and at the cabin. We knew we'd need fresh items, but those wouldn't last forever, so we thought in terms of storable items. We also thought of things like extra clothing we might need - and then though about saving that for the sake of carrying more immediately needed, survival related items.

And then we cut the list in half, because we still had to have enough room to load the dogs back into the truck and head for home.

This was becoming more complicated than we had thought.

And we had to go back in to the zombie infested store ...

H1Z1 Chapter 12

2009-09-14T06:22:00.004-07:00

I snapped the last bullet into the magazine, shoved it into the pistol and chambered the first round just as the source of noise rounded a rack of sleeping bags to my right. He was dressed in hiking shorts and a tech-shirt. Obviously a customer who had stopped before a morning trek. And obviously heavily infected.

"Bill, hold the dogs," I warned, raising the pistol. The sound of the gun drowned out any other noise, even the low growl of the dogs. My pistol shooting skills were a bit out of date. Two rounds hit the creature in the left shoulder, knocking it back and down as I, almost on auto pilot, kept pulling the trigger on the big .45. Boom! Boom! Boom. click. Uh-oh.

The zombie was dragging itself toward me with its right arm, a weird high keening noise coming from its throat. I could see shattered bones poking out the back of its shirt, the result of the two rounds that had actually hit. Slamming the pistol down onto the counter, I reached for my shotgun.

BOOM!

Bill beat me to it. I hadn't even noticed him rounding the corner from the shelves, but he had, and had immediately raised his shotgun and took action, blasting an almost neat hole through the back of the creature's skull, spreading its face across the floor and splashing little bits of brain on my shoes.

I was frozen, that little voice of terror trying to make its way back into my conscience. Bill, face ashen, promptly leaned over and threw up. He then calmly reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out a shell, replacing the round he'd fired from his shotgun.

I managed to eke a "thank you" out as he turned back into the aisle he'd been searching for the right sizes of shoulder holsters. He simply nodded. When had my little boy turned into a cowboy? I didn't have time to continue that line of thought, though, and returned to the task at hand, loading magazines.

There were more zombies in the store, and between my wasteful unloading of an entire magazine and Bill's single shotgun round, we'd practically given them a foghorn to guide them in. We needed to hurry.

I loaded the mags for each pistol without incident, then turned back to the cabinet, selecting a pair of 9mm's for my son. He could handle a 9mm a lot easier than the big .45s I had chosen, and the rounds would be just as effective if he aimed for the head.

Bill returned, pulling his head into his second shoulder holster. "Jump back here and find spare magazines, Son.

".45's for me, 9mm Ruger for you. And get rounds. All you can find."

I began loading Bill's magazines, listening for the creatures I knew were approaching, our fresh flesh their only aim. The dogs' hackles raised again, and their low growls confirmed my fears. We still had to pull supplies together. We still had to get everything out to the truck and loaded. We had too much to do, and the danger increased the longer we stayed in the store. The only good thing about the situation, if there could be a good thing, was that there was a finite number of the creatures in the store. Bad, however, was that by now, they were probably all coming right for us.

H1Z1 Chapter 11

2009-09-07T07:07:00.006-07:00

Leading the way, I gingerly stepped over the body lying in the automatic doorway and into the entrance. Bill was right behind, the dogs on either side of him, guardians with hackles raised, noses busily determining which direction the next threat may come from.

We angled over to the cart park and each grabbed one. "I should pull both the carts, Dad. That way your hands are free with the shotgun."

"Good thinking, Son, but what about the dogs?"

In reply, Bill unbuckled his heavy canvas belt and passed the loops of both leashes through it.

"OK, but if they sense something, another ... zombie, they'll try to go after it."

"I know, Dad, but I can push the cart in between me and the thing and then you can shoot it."

"All right. Straight to the outdoors section. Move beside or behind me, don't stop, and keep your head on a swivel."

"I never understood what that meant until today, Dad." Smart boy. The saying hearkened back to my Navy days - the skipper of the aircraft carrier I was stationed aboard would say it to the flight deck crew before every cycle. It meant "keep your eyes open, 360-degrees around you." Good advice.

We entered the inner doors to quiet. Nothing seemed to be moving, nothing seemed to be alive. Sarah let out a slight whimper which Steve replied to with a light growl.

"Knock it off, you two," I said, almost a reflex. They were excellent dogs, but they could be a little high strung. Probably a good trait in this circumstance.

Bill and I began moving toward the outdoors section. Not exactly marching, not exactly strolling. Both of us moved warily and scanned our surroundings, searching for sign of another creature. As we rounded the final tall display shelf into outdoors, we both sighed with relief. There was the gun counter, nothing and no one around it, and our goal directly in sight.

"OK. Shells. 12 and 20 Gauge. Load up your cart, Son."

Bill broke left to the shelf with the shotgun shells while I stepped through the gate behind the gun counter.

"Shit!"

"What's wrong, Dad?"

"Keys. They're on Marie's body."

"Oh, shit."

"Bill!"

"Sorry, Dad. What will we do?"

I raised the butt of my shotgun and rammed it into the lock on the drawer which held the trigger lock keys. It burst immediately. Some security.

"I guess that works, huh?" Bill asked, one eyebrow raised in unconscious imitation of my own wry expression. "Keep working, Boy."

It was funny that he retained his budding sense of humor even in our current predicament. I quickly located the cabinet key and unlocked the shotgun rack, pulling out the semi-automatic Smith & Wesson 20-gauge I had been eyeing for my son for months.

"Grab a shooting vest, Bill. And toss me a box of shells." He already had a vest his size on, and was filling the pockets. He looked up and threw me a box with a handful of shells left in it. I removed the trigger lock and began to load, racking one round into the chamber so I could push a fifth round into the gun. "Here, Son," I said, clicking on the safety and tossing the loaded gun across the aisle to the boy. He snagged it deftly from the air and turned to the rack of rifle straps. Smart, smart boy.

Just then, I realized that I was hearing something. A kind of dragging sound, and the moaning we'd heard earlier was back.

"Hurry. I want you to find shoulder holsters - you'll need a woman's small, I need an extra large. Automatic pistols - we'll need the extra bullets."

Bill nodded and turned to the next aisle, clicking the safety off of his gun.

I unlocked the counter-top pistol case and began pulling out handguns. .45 calibers for me - a pair of matched stainless steel Smith and Wessons. I grabbed them. "Left and right shoulder for both of us, Bill," I shouted as I pulled the trigger locks off of the pistols.

Pistol shells were behind the counter. Ejecting the magazines onto it, I turned and grabbed a box of .45 rounds, dumping it out on the glass top. The moaning was getting louder. And the dragging sound nearer. Hurriedly, I began jacking rounds into a magazine, looking under the counter for the guns' cases as I did so. Too much time. This was all taking too much time.

Both dogs began to growl.

Time was almost up.

Author's Note

2009-08-26T12:45:00.002-07:00

Hey you zombiefiles! Sorry it took me almost TWO months to whip out H1Z1 chapter 10 - it's been a rough summer, to say the least.

In brief, I am suffering a debilitating back injury and it's been rough making my way through not only the military medical system, but the struggles of narcotic painkillers, muscle relaxers and depression iincluded in no longer being able to lift even my cat (and she's a little damned cat).

I am trying very hard to keep my positive (or at least pragmatic and probably a bit sarcastic) outlook and learn to deal with my newfound disability. Hopefully, I'll bbe able to get surgery and fix this so I can re-start my zombie survivalism training.

But, no matter what, I'll keep pluugging away at the H1Z1 saga 'cause, damn it, we need to be prepared when H1N1 mutates and people start re-animating in search of fresh human brains!

H1Z1 Chapter 10

2009-08-26T12:21:00.002-07:00

There are no words to fully describe the horror which was pulsing through my mind and charging through my body as the thing in front of me stopped it's grotesque motions almost at the same time as the resounding boom of the shotgun shell echoed off the wall of the building beside us.

I watched as, in slow motion, its skull disintegrated, blood and ichor spraying across the pavement and painting a macabre moire of pinkish death where a man's head once lay.

I wanted to vomit.

I wanted to scream.

I wanted to run, the raving voice in my head screeching that this wasn't possible, this wasn't real, I couldn't have just killed two people, there are more there are more there are more there are ...

"Dad," Bill whispered, the dogs looking calmly at me as though they knew that the immediate danger was over. "Dad, are you OK?"

I turned to look at him. He was calm. His young mind wasn't raving like a lunatic, screaming to get out of here, to run, to hide, to pretend it had never happened. His young mind, I realized, was flexible enough to acknowledge and understand the shift in reality the world around us had taken, and to take it in stride. His young mind saw that I had a good plan and that it was up to us to make sure the rest of our family survived the zombie pandemic. His young mind, and his clear, calming eyes brought me back, and I firmly shoved the madman in my head, kicking and screaming all the way, to the back of my consciousness.

"Son, you handled that well. I am very proud of you. Way to keep the dogs safe, too - good job, Son."

"Thanks, Dad. But, I ..."

I looked him over, searching his small frame. "What is it, Son?"

"I was scared, Dad."

"Well, so was I. There's nothing wrong with being afraid. It's what you do with that fear that makes a statement, Son. You did good."

"Thanks, Dad," he managed, still looking at the ground. "But can we grab some clean underwear and a clean pair of pants while we're in there? Please?"

It was then that I saw what was bothering him. In the terror of the moment, he'd wet himself. Yet he'd stood strong, even as his little body was betraying him. All thoughts of my own fear were gone and I smiled with both pride and compassion. "Of course we can, Son. I may need a new pair my own self."

He didn't believe me, but he met my eyes and slowly, my smile.

"I guess we'd better get to work, huh?" I asked, tousling his hair and reaching down to pat the dogs each on the head.

"Well, it's now or never, Dad."

I turned to the door, swallowing, as the fear tried to return to the forefront of my mind.

Not this time. It's time to just head in and kick some zombie ass, I thought, stepping over Marie's corpse.

#H1Z1 - Chapter 9

2009-06-04T08:50:00.004-07:00

Automatic doors. All this time I'd been outside of the store, talking with my Son, getting the dogs out of the truck, loading my shotgun, calling 911 - all this time, and it just now hit me that they were automatic doors. All the front entrance doors - four sets - to the Wad-Mart were automatic. A motion sensor at the top triggered them. You simply needed to move in front of it.

Or stagger.

"Dad! Behind you!" Bill shouted as the dogs surged forward, hackles bristling and showing fierce snarls I never imagined my two goofy mutts were even capable of.

I whipped around, raising the shotgun to my shoulder just in time to see the remains of Marie lurch through the automatic door and stumble toward me.

"Don't come any closer, lady!" I shouted. My hackles, if I had any, were raised as well, and my flesh seemed to want to be somewhere else, goose-bumps instantly covering every inch of me. The voice in the back of my head was screeching now, tearing through my resolve to the forefront of my mind and refusing to be controlled. "Get back lady! Get away from us!"

Her eyes were so bloodshot they almost appeared red. A long string of saliva hung from one corner of her twisted mouth and she was actually gnashing her teeth - making chewing motions as she reached toward me. Her skin was white. I could see the branch-like tracery of veins through her eerily translucent skin. She was obviously dead, yet somehow walking. My brain raged at that, terror ripping the silence, or so I thought, with gut-wrenching screams.

Somehow, she managed a kind of half-hiss, half-moan and took another shuttering step.

I pulled the trigger of my gun.

Nothing happened.

Standing there, aghast, shocked, terrified, my mind quickly racing toward the precipice of abject terror, I almost didn't hear Bill's admonishment. "Safety, Dad! Take off the safety!"

It was too late. Marie was right in front of me, inside the 30-inch reach of the barrel of my skeet gun. She reached out, hands like claws hungrily trying to catch my shooting vest.

Call it reflexes. Call is survival instinct. Call it dumb, blind luck, but I managed to stave off the terror trying to peel itself out of my brain and run gibbering down the street for home and react.

I did the only thing I could. I swung the stock of the gun down from my shoulder and whipped it up in a sharp blow to her chin, knocking her head back with every ounce of force I could muster in so short an amount of time.

Her head shot back - too far back - and the momentum of my blow sent her sprawling backwards through the still open door, landing hard on the concrete pad beyond with a sickening crunch. I saw a pool of blood forming under her skull as her body writhed slowly through a sickening kind of death throe.

Then, her remains, her re-animated remains, seemed to collapse. She, no, it (I had to start thinking of them as 'it') cease to move altogether.

I had done it. I had killed my first zombie. How in the HELL was I going to deal with that when this was all over?

Bill's shout brought me back from this brief reverie. Why was he shouting, anyway? And why was I so detached all of a sudden?

It felt as though the air were made of gelatin rather than gasses as I turned toward my son and the dogs he was barely restraining.

Standing in front of the dogs, inches from their snarling, snapping jaws, was the second one. The second zombie from inside of the store. The man. Reaching - clawing for my son.

I didn't have to think this time. My finger snapped the safety off. I raised the shotgun and shot from the hip, aiming for center mass. I was to the right side of this second catastrophe, and was standing fairly even with the creature that threatened my son. Bill was clear of any shot, but the dogs weren't. No matter. This thing was not going to get my Son, I thought as I pulled the trigger.

At such short range, the tightly choked gun punched a hole deep into the side of the man - of what was left of the man. The force of the blow knocked it sideways onto the ground and it was close enough to the muzzle of the shotgun that it's shirt caught fire.

It writhed for a moment there on the ground before, astonishingly, beginning to lever its self up onto its knees, never losing sight of its target, my Son and our two dogs. But I had bought Bill the time he needed and somehow, I felt a flush of pride through the still gibbering terror which ran rampant through my mind as he dug his heels into the pavement and yanked the pair of savagely snarling animals back from the creature before them.

My shotgun was a semi-automatic, so I didn't have to pump it to chamber another round - it was already cocked and loaded. I raised it to my shoulder this time, taking aim for the center of the creature's chest and pulling the trigger again. It was sickening to watch as the shot ripped through its chest. It was blown back onto the ground again, but still, it writhed. Again, I shot it. Still it moved, clawing at the ground and trying to right its self so that it could pursue the child. Finally, I aimed for its head, something telling me that that would stop the creature. I pulled the trigger.

H1Z1 - Interlude 2

2009-06-04T08:42:00.003-07:00

Current WHO phase of pandemic alert

Current phase of alert in the WHO global influenza preparedness plan
Pandemic preparedness

In the 2009 revision of the phase descriptions, WHO has retained the use of a six-phased approach for easy incorporation of new recommendations and approaches into existing national preparedness and response plans. The grouping and description of pandemic phases have been revised to make them easier to understand, more precise, and based upon observable phenomena. Phases 1–3 correlate with preparedness, including capacity development and response planning activities, while Phases 4–6 clearly signal the need for response and mitigation efforts. Furthermore, periods after the first pandemic wave are elaborated to facilitate post pandemic recovery activities.

The current WHO phase of pandemic alert is 5.

In nature, influenza viruses circulate continuously among animals, especially birds. Even though such viruses might theoretically develop into pandemic viruses, in Phase 1 no viruses circulating among animals have been reported to cause infections in humans.

In Phase 2 an animal influenza virus circulating among domesticated or wild animals is known to have caused infection in humans, and is therefore considered a potential pandemic threat.

In Phase 3, an animal or human-animal influenza reassortant virus has caused sporadic cases or small clusters of disease in people, but has not resulted in human-to-human transmission sufficient to sustain community-level outbreaks. Limited human-to-human transmission may occur under some circumstances, for example, when there is close contact between an infected person and an unprotected caregiver. However, limited transmission under such restricted circumstances does not indicate that the virus has gained the level of transmissibility among humans necessary to cause a pandemic.

Phase 4 is characterized by verified human-to-human transmission of an animal or human-animal influenza reassortant virus able to cause “community-level outbreaks.” The ability to cause sustained disease outbreaks in a community marks a significant upwards shift in the risk for a pandemic. Any country that suspects or has verified such an event should urgently consult with WHO so that the situation can be jointly assessed and a decision made by the affected country if implementation of a rapid pandemic containment operation is warranted. Phase 4 indicates a significant increase in risk of a pandemic but does not necessarily mean that a pandemic is a forgone conclusion.

Phase 5 is characterized by human-to-human spread of the virus into at least two countries in one WHO region. While most countries will not be affected at this stage, the declaration of Phase 5 is a strong signal that a pandemic is imminent and that the time to finalize the organization, communication, and implementation of the planned mitigation measures is short.

Phase 6, the pandemic phase, is characterized by community level outbreaks in at least one other country in a different WHO region in addition to the criteria defined in Phase 5. Designation of this phase will indicate that a global pandemic is under way.

During the post-peak period, pandemic disease levels in most countries with adequate surveillance will have dropped below peak observed levels. The post-peak period signifies that pandemic activity appears to be decreasing; however, it is uncertain if additional waves will occur and countries will need to be prepared for a second wave.

Previous pandemics have been characterized by waves of activity spread over months. Once the level of disease activity drops, a critical communications task will be to balance this information with the possibility of another wave. Pandemic waves can be separated by months and an immediate “at-ease” signal may be premature.

In the post-pandemic period, influenza disease activity will have returned to levels normally seen for seasonal influenza. It is expected that the pandemic virus will behave as a seasonal influenza A virus. At this stage, it is important to maintain surveillance and update pandemic preparedness and response plans accordingly. An intensive phase of recovery and evaluation may be required.

**Actual World Health Organization document found here.

H1Z1- Chapter 8

2009-05-31T07:21:00.004-07:00

I reached in to the pocket of my shooting vest and began shoving shells into my twelve gauge. Bill watched intently and nodded his approval when I chambered a round and replaced it with an extra shot in the tube.

"Should we wear earplugs, Dad?" he asked, ever mindful of the safety training we had taken together and which I reenforced with him regularly.

"I am not sure. I know we need to take care of our ears, but I think we also need to be able to hear if one of those people try to come toward us."

"That's true," was his reply. His young mind grasped the logic immediately.

"Now, here's what we need to remember - these people were infected with the flu. We don't want to breathe the same air they exhale and we don't want any contact with their bodily fluid."

"I understand, Dad, but what do I do if one of them gets too close to me?"

"Do your best to keep that from hapenning, Son. The dogs will help. But try to keep them from getting too close, too."

This was almost an impossible task - the two mutts together weighed more than 120 lbs, and they could each pull at least that individually. But they were obedient, to a degree, and they were definitely fiercely protective of their boy. I knew they would do their best to keep one of the ... creatures from touching their charge.

"Ok, lets go Son. We'll go in the doors, then you grab a cart and I'll grab a cart. We go straight to outdoors first, get the keys to the gun cabinet and get you a shotgun." Bills eyes got rounder and rounder as I spelled out my plan, but I could tell he was tracking. "Then we get shells. As many as are on the shelf. Twelve and twenty gauge only, got it?"

"Yes. Do you think maybe we should get more than one gun, Dad?"

"I like the way you think, Son. Once we're in there, I'll decide, but I think a pistol or two, and maybe a .300 Winchester Magnum would be a good idea. We're not going to have a lot of time, but we should probably arm ourselves for bear, huh?"

Bill solemnely nodded his agreement, eyes never leaving mine.

"Son, this is not going to be fun. Or easy. Just think about getting home to our family and getting them all to the cabin safely."

"I know, Dad, but its still scary."

My heart felt like it was coated in lead. A voice in the back of my head kept up a steady stream of niggling doubt. How could I lead my son back into a building which had to be completely infested with undead people? How could I risk exposing him and myself to something so horrible? How could I go back in there? Especially after I'd seen a woman die, then get back up and try to chase me? Was I insane? Was I stupid?

I mustered enough courage to shove the voice deeper into the back of my mind before it could wedge its constant doubt and fear into the depths of my heart where what courage I had was bound. I had to think beyond the terror which waited for me on the other side of the automatic door. I had to think of my wife, of Bill, of the other four children back at home, hell, even of our two cats. We had to survive this, and we had to get ourselves to the safety of the mountain. That was my goal. That was my only goal. In. Out. Home. Mountain.

"Ok, Son, we have to do this, so let's do this."

Bill only nodded and wrapped the dogs' leashes around his gloved hand once more.

H1Z1 - Chapter 7

2009-05-28T08:56:00.002-07:00

It felt as though a huge black cloud was drifting over me as I pulled my cell phone back out of my pocket and dialled 9-1-1. We had seen the fire truck earlier, lights but no sirens, but we hadn't seen anything else - no sign of the police, no helicopters, nothing. I wasn't sure what, if anything, the police could do for me, but I had to make the call - not just to reassure Bill, but to reassure myself, too.

"9-1-1 operator, please state your emergency."

"I'm at the Wad-Mart and there seems to be ... All the people are either dead or they're sort of not dead."

"What is your emergency, sir?" Great. This bodiless voice wasn't going to make things easy.

"They're dying here! They have the flu, and then they ..." I couldn't help but hesitate, even though I'd seen it, even though it had happened before my eyes, I struggled to say the words aloud because they were simply too terrible. "They die, then they come back to life and the lady tried to attack us."

There. Confused, jumbled, scared and scary, but I was able to spit it out.

"You were attacked at the Wad-Mart?"

"Yes."

"By a dead woman?"

"Yes. A zombie, I guess. H1Z1 - the flu - everyone in the store seems to have it."

"Sir, we're getting similar reports all over town. I have no police officers to dispatch. Please stay calm and remain indoors. There's nothing further I can do to help you," said the bodiless voice.

"Stay indoors? No police? Lady, there's something terrible going on here! What are the police doing about it?"

"Sir, we're doing everything we can, but I don't have a car to dispatch to your location. I can't send you any help."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" I was becoming more and more frustrated by this disembodied voice. How could she be so calm when it was obvious that the whole city seemed to be going to hell?

"According to the latest instruction from the mayor's office and the governor, the National Guard has been called in and all uninfected citizens are to remain in their homes until help arrives. That's all I can tell you, Sir."

Well, there it was. Sit and wait and pray you're not infected. Lot of help the National Guard was going to be if the whole town was suffering from this. I hung up the call and put my phone back in my pocket.

"I guess we're going to have to do this on our own, Son," I said to Bill as I turned back the tailgate and began loading the pocket of my shooting vest with shells.

"Dad, I'm scared." He looked at me intently, young eyes seeing through any bravado I may have tried to muster. I could do nothing but be honest with him, especially since I was taking him back in to the hellish experience we had just escaped inside the store behind us.

"Me, too, Son. Me too."

H1Z1 - Chapter 6

2009-05-19T04:29:00.002-07:00

As I headed for the truck, I called the boy over, watching the dogs carefully as they turned toward me and we all met.

"How long has Mom known I'm teaching you to shoot, Son?" I asked, pulling the drop down tailgate of the SUV open.

"It's no big deal Dad, I promise!"

"No, no. You're not in trouble. I was just wondering." As I talked with him, I was methodically pulling out the objects I felt I would need to use on the trip back in to the store. My shooting vest, which had a pocket that held more than 30 shells. A pair of leather gloves, I didn't want to touch someone affected and catch the virus that way. The box of 12 gauge shells we had just left the store with.

"Take these," I handed Bill a pair of gloves, too. "We have to go back in. You keep the dogs with you because they'll protect you."

"Why are we going in again, Dad?"

"Mom wants me to get you a gun. I think we may need some other things, too."

"Mom said that? Really?"

"Yes. And I think we need to pack for the cabin."

I was forming a plan in the back of my mind. We had a cabin up in a pass in the mountains. We had canned food and supplies there all the time, so that all we'd need for a quick weekend away was a few fresh supplies and to load all the kids into our two cars. It was almost a hundren miles from any large concentration of people, so there would be much less possibility of infection. There was wood nearby for fires and there was wildlife should we have to stay so long that hunting became necessary. Yes, I thought, this would work.

But it meant that we needed to bring about two cart-loads of supplies out of the store with us, not just a second shotgun.

I began explaining my plan to my son.

"OK, Dad, but what do we do for the dogs?" Another large, bulky object. Dog food. We'd have to grab some.

"What about paying?" I had worked hard to ingrain a sense of responsibility to all the children, and he knew I was talking about a high-speed raid through the store, filling the cart with what we thought we needed as quickly as possibly, then simply taking it, not trying to stop and pay a clerk who would most likely be trying to attack us, not assist us.

"I don't think we need to worry about paying, Bill. I don't think anyone in there really cares."

"That still doesn't make it right, Dad."

"No, Son, it doesn't."

Finally, I realized I had forgotten something.

"Bill, have you heard any sirens? Have you heard any police?"

"No, Dad. We should call."

"Yes, we should."

I could see our escape to the mountains becoming more complex, but I could also see that, if we were to do things right, we had to try to make sure we followed through with every option, and the next civilized option we had was to call the police and see if there was any hope of not only some help, but some kind of official word on what was really going on.

H1Z1 - Chapter 5

2009-05-15T14:08:00.006-07:00

Although he didn't want to, I pulled Bill to a stop just outside the automatic doors to the store. For a moment, the two of us just stood there, nothing but the sound of our own gasps for air and the thundering of our hearts in our ears.

"Dad," Bill managed between gulps of air, "She was, sh-she was ..."

"Yes, Son," I replied, myself struggling to fill my lungs with clean, cool early-morning air. "She was dead. And then she was standing up again."

Bill just stared at me. I could only respond by staring at him. I think we each could see the gears in each others' minds turning and turning, trying to fit the sentence I had just managed to spit out into our conception of How the World Works.

Bill, being ten, and therefore much more resilient than I was at my almost-mid-life age, straightened up and with a deep breath asked, "Well, what do we do about that?"

It's amazing how quickly and easily my young son can assimilate new facts or situations. It seems to me as though his little mind, so eager for growth and knowledge, just raced through new concepts, filing them neatly under real or not real, fact or fiction, fun or hard work like a computer parsing its next set of instructions. For me, even as my amazement at his rapid acceptance of this terrifying fact, this realization, that a dead woman, a woman who had died from an obviously horrible and most likely highly communicable disease, had risen and ... attacked us - the realization wasn't as easy. It had attacked us. This fact snapped me out of it and back to the here and now.

"What are we going to do ...?" I mused back at him. "First, we call for help, because I think everyone in that store is either just as sick as that lady was or will be very soon, how's that sound?"

Having Daddy announce a definitive action seemed to bolster the boy, who stood a little straighter at the thought of some kind of positive action in the face of this horrible thing he had just seen.

"Why don't you go put the dogs on their leashes and walk them around a little, Son?"

"OK Dad, but I am not letting you out of my sight. That lady scared me bad!"

"Good, I think that's smart." With a mission to perform, the lad was able to settle down some. Besides, the dogs were not small, and Bill always felt safer with his furry friends by his side.

I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and realized it had been off all morning. Although my wife had merely rolled over and mumbled when I kissed her cheek and headed out for the morning's activities, as soon as the phone's operating system booted up, the message alert popped on. You Have Voicemail, it chimed in an artificially cheerful voice. I nearly lost myself in a befuddled rage at that - how could this stupid device be cheery after what I had just seen? I caught myself and instead hit play.

"Honey, did you see the news this morning? Call me now!" Liz was a little high-strung on occasion, but this was real fear in her voice and I wasn't used to hearing that. I dialed immediately.

"There you are!" She yelled into the phone.

"You'll never believe what just happened to us," I gushed at the same moment, relieved to hear her voice and know that she and the rest of our five children were safe.

"You first," We both said at the same time. This was usually my cue to remain silent, but it seemed that she wanted to hear my news because the silence on the line stretched out for a few seconds before I began. "The lady at the outdoor counter in Wad-Mart just died right there in front of us!"

"You have Bill with you? Did he see that?" Ever the protective Mom, she immediately asked after our youngest son.

"Yes dear, and yes, he was with me when it happened, but that wasn't the worst of it - I'm still trying to wrap my head around it all."

"She came back to life, didn't she?" Liz preempted.

"How did you know?" I asked, mystified at her seeming clairvoyance.

"It's all over the news - it's this flu! They're calling it the Zombie flu!"

"I've been hearing about it, but Zombies? I mean, come on!" I replied, my incredulity spilling through the phone and out onto her shoulder.

"No honey, the governor was just on TV - it's what woke me up," I always turned the TV on for her when I left in the morning, usually on the Discovery Channel, as I had this morning, to help her, not much of a morning person, to wake up.

"How'd you hear the governor? I left the TV on Discovery!"

"I know - he came on so I changed the channel. He was on every channel - it was an emergency broadcast. He said that the Zombie flu is here. It's killing people here! You need to come home now! And get Bill a shotgun, too!"

That last part brought me up short. "What do you mean?" I tried to deflect, but my heart sunk as I realized I'd been caught.

"Go back to the gun counter and get Bill a 20 gauge. You know he can't keep a secret."

Damn that motherly instinct. I'd been an idiot to think that she'd not realize I was teaching our son to shoot.

"Get home as fast as you can, honey. I think we all need to get somewhere else - somewhere safe."

"All right. I'll grab another gun, and be there as soon as I can."

I looked toward my son as he wandered around the parking lot following the dogs' noses. Should I bring him back in with me? Into there? I noticed that both of the dogs' hackles were raised and that they weren't sniffing for sign of other animals to cover with their own scent. Quite the opposite, the were both fully on guard, one on either side of the young boy, and were warily searching for the source of the danger they clearly sensed. Yup. Better bring all three of them in - it would be useful, because in the back of my mind I had already accepted that everyone in Wad-Mart today was infected, and every one of them was after one thing and one thing only ... living flesh.

Damn. This today wasn't going to be much fun after all.

H1Z1 - Interlude

2009-05-13T12:37:00.004-07:00

What to Do If You Get Flu-Like Symptoms
May 7, 2009 7:15 PM ET

The novel H1N1 flu virus is causing illness in infected persons in the United States and countries around the world. CDC expects that illnesses may continue for some time. As a result, you or people around you may become ill. If so, you need to recognize the symptoms and know what to do.

Symptoms
The symptoms of this new H1N1 flu virus in people are similar to the symptoms of seasonal flu and include fever, cough, sore throat, runny or stuffy nose, body aches, headache, chills and fatigue. A significant number of people who have been infected with this new H1N1 virus also have reported diarrhea and vomiting. The high risk groups for novel H1N1 flu are not known at this time but it’s possible that they may be the same as for seasonal influenza. People at higher risk of serious complications from seasonal flu include people age 65 years and older, children younger than 5 years old, pregnant women, people of any age with chronic medical conditions (such as asthma, diabetes, or heart disease), and people who are immunosuppressed (e.g., taking immunosuppressive medications, infected with HIV).

Avoid Contact With Others
If you are sick, you may be ill for a week or longer. You should stay home and avoid contact with other persons, except to seek medical care. If you leave the house to seek medical care, wear a mask or cover your coughs and sneezes with a tissue. In general you should avoid contact with other people as much as possible to keep from spreading your illness. At the current time, CDC believes that this virus has the same properties in terms of spread as seasonal flu viruses. With seasonal flu, studies have shown that people may be contagious from one day before they develop symptoms to up to 7 days after they get sick. Children, especially younger children, might potentially be contagious for longer periods.

Treatment is Available for Those Who Are Seriously III

It is expected that most people will recover without needing medical care.

If you have severe illness or you are at high risk for flu complications, contact your health care provider or seek medical care. Your health care provider will determine whether flu testing or treatment is needed. Be aware that if the flu becomes wide spread, there will be little need to continue testing people, so your health care provider may decide not to test for the flu virus.

Antiviral drugs can be given to treat those who become severely ill with influenza. These antiviral drugs are prescription medicines (pills, liquid or an inhaler) with activity against influenza viruses, including H1N1 flu virus. These medications must be prescribed by a health care professional.

There are two influenza antiviral medications that are recommended for use against H1N1 flu. The drugs that are used for treating H1N1 flu are called oseltamivir (trade name Tamiflu ®) and zanamivir (Relenza ®). As the H1N1 flu spreads, these antiviral drugs may become in short supply. Therefore, the drugs will be given first to those people who have been hospitalized or are at high risk of complications. The drugs work best if given within 2 days of becoming ill, but may be given later if illness is severe or for those at a high risk for complications.

Aspirin or aspirin-containing products (e.g. bismuth subsalicylate – Pepto Bismol) should not be administered to any confirmed or suspected ill case of novel influenza A (H1N1) virus infection aged 18 years old and younger due to the risk of Reye syndrome. For relief of fever, other anti-pyretic medications are recommended such as acetaminophen or non steroidal anti-inflammatory drugs. For more information about Reye’s syndrome, visit the National Institute of Health website.

Check ingredient labels on over-the-counter cold and flu medications to see if they contain aspirin.

Teenagers with the flu can take medicines without aspirin, such as acetaminophen (Tylenol®) and ibuprofen (Advil®, Motrin®, Nuprin®), to relieve symptoms.
Children younger than 4 years of age should not be given over-the-counter cold medications without first speaking with a healthcare provider.

Emergency Warning Signs

If you become ill and experience any of the following warning signs, seek emergency medical care.

In children emergency warning signs that need urgent medical attention include:

Fast breathing or trouble breathing
Bluish or gray skin color
Not drinking enough fluids
Severe or persistent vomiting
Not waking up or not interacting
Being so irritable that the child does not want to be held
Flu-like symptoms improve but then return with fever and worse cough

In adults, emergency warning signs that need urgent medical attention include:

Difficulty breathing or shortness of breath
Pain or pressure in the chest or abdomen
Sudden dizziness
Confusion
Severe or persistent vomiting
Flu-like symptoms improve but then return with fever and worse cough

Protect Yourself, Your Family, and Community

Stay informed. Health officials will provide additional information as it becomes available. Visit the CDC H1N1 Flu website.
Cover your nose and mouth with a tissue when you cough or sneeze. Throw the tissue in the trash after you use it.
Wash your hands often with soap and water, especially after you cough or sneeze. Alcohol-based hand cleaners are also effective.
Avoid touching your eyes, nose or mouth. Germs spread this way.
Try to avoid close contact with sick people.

If you are sick with a flu-like illness, stay home for 7 days after your symptoms begin or until you have been symptom-free for 24 hours, whichever is longer. Keep away from other household members as much as possible. This is to keep you from infecting others and spreading the virus further.

Learn more about how to take care of someone who is ill in "Taking Care of a Sick Person in Your Home"

Follow public health advice regarding school closures, avoiding crowds, and other social distancing measures.

If you don’t have one yet, consider developing a family emergency plan as a precaution. This should include storing a supply of extra food, medicines, and other essential supplies. Further information can be found in the "Flu Planning Checklist"

Source: Centers For Disease Control article, "What do I do if I get flu-like symptoms" http://www.cdc.gov/h1n1flu/sick.htm

H1Z1 - Chapter 4

2009-05-12T13:08:00.002-07:00

Perhaps it was that sweet remainder of the little boy in Bill that snapped me out of my terror-induced funk; he grabbed my hand, and the feel of his fingers inside of mine brought me back from the black brink of terror, the edge of which my mind had been teetering once I realized that Marie had died. I had to be calm right now, and I had to be rational right now, if not for my own sake, then for the sake of my son, who wasn't even old enough to understand the horrific memories which had begun to play across the view screen of my inner mind.

"It-it's going to be okay, Son," I managed. I could still feel terror clawing, raging, trying to escape from deep inside me, trying to make its way out of my mouth and take over my actions, like some bizarre alien whose gestation lead to an oral-ejection and which, once born, would jump onto my head and sink ganglion through my skull, becoming an alien "driver" controlling my every action.

"Let's pick up these shotgun shells, OK?" In spite of my fear, some part of me tried to maintain an illusion of normalcy, even though this situation was anything but normal.

"Dad," he hesitated, but seeing the look I shot him, Bill bent and began to scoop up hands full of errant shotgun shells.

As he scurried about the tile and shoved different gauges into their appropriate boxes, I surveyed the aisles surrounding us. I could hear the strange moaning, and I saw a person who appeared to be suffering from the same illness Marie had been suffering - he was lurching around in the hardware aisle two over from the beginning of the sporting goods. That way his body moved was unnatural. He wasn't walking, wasn't limping; I couldn't even label what he was doing as a shuffle. He was lurching. Unnaturally. He was lurching this way.

"How you doing with those shells, Son?" I prodded.

"Just a few left," Bill grunted, down on his hands and knees, stretching to reach under a rack of rain jackets.

"Hurry up then," I said, just barely keeping the raw edge of fear from seeping out the sides of my mouth.

The man lurched closer. Slow, but shortening the distance between his aisle and me and my son, who grunted with satisfaction as he slid the last 20 gauge shell into its box. "Got 'em. Let's go now, Dad. Now!"

"Alright. All we have to do is pay and we're out of here," I assured him, taking the proffered hand and turning toward the check-out stands.

Marie stood right in front of us, spittle and blood flecked lips curling back and her, no, not her any more, it's, I think might be more appropriate, teeth, made to look all the sharper because of the bloody-spittle in the creases between them, bared in a death's head grimace. An unearthly growl from deep inside her chest managed to writhe itself free of it's lips, but when it had finished, it's chest didn't rise again to refill it's lungs. it shuffled toward us with that same blank stare, barely seeming to register that we were there, yet coming after us as though we were it's goal.

"Dad!" Bill shouted as I leaped backward, nearly yanking his arm from its socket.

"We need to run, Son," I said as I continued my backward scramble, pulling him back and up in order to keep him on his uncooperative feet.

Finally, he managed to get his feet under him and together, hand-in-hand, Bill and I ran, me a step-and-a-half ahead as we made for the exit doors and the safety of anywhere but here.

H1Z1 - Chapter 3

2009-05-05T13:54:00.005-07:00

As I caught up with my son, who, in his haste to get away from the woman, hadn't waited for me, I heard a sound I hadn't noticed before. All through the store, there seemed to be a low keening sound, like a cross between a growl and a moan. There had to be at least 50 people in the store at any given time, and it seemed like every single one of them was making the same noises as the lady behind the gun counter.

Her name was Marie.

The realization stopped me cold in my tracks. Not because I had just remembered what her little blue name tag said in friendly white lettering, but because, in my mind, I had thought 'was'.

Was.

"Bill, wait," I managed, turning back toward the outdoors section.

"No, Dad. We can't go back there! Something is wrong with that lady and I'm scared!"

"I know, Son," I said as calmly as I knew how, trying to disguise the terror that kept trying to claw its way up the back of my throat. "You just wait right here while I go back."

"No!" This, he yelled, in spite of his usual amenable attitude. "I'm not leaving you! And I am NOT going back there!"

With that, Bill dug his heels in to the floor and my momentum pulled him over, both of us cancelling one another out with single-minded determination as the shotgun shells under his arm broke free of their boxes and spilled across the tile.

I wanted, no needed, absolutely had to go back and find out what was wrong with this lady; Bill was equally compelled to flee the store as rapidly as his little legs would allow. Althouh his flight instinct held sway over him almost completely, I couldn't help but feel pride in the fact that even though he was ready to run for his life, he would not leave my side - he'd run, all right, but not without my permission.

"Here," I said, dangling the keys to the truck in front of him. "Why don't you go wait in the car?"

"Uh-uh," he said, flatly determined that the two of us would not separate. "I am not going anywhere without you, Dad. Something is wrong here. Very wrong, and I want to get out!"

"Yes, Son, I know something's wrong." I could tell there was not going to be a happy medium here, so I let the steel of my "Daddy voice" temper my words. "We need to find out what it is and whether or not we can help."

"No Dad," Bill pleaded, his eyes gone dark with fear. "Please no."

He knew I had made up my mind, though, and his shoulders rounded with acceptance as I pulled him back to his feet.

"We'll just be a minute, Son," I promised, turning back toward the gun counter.

The lady, Marie, was gone. My steps faltered as I saw the empty corral.

"Look, under there!" Bill hissed, squatting down and pointing under the bottom edge of the swinging corral door.

"Why are you whispering, Son?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper itsself.

"I don't know," he whispered back.

"Ma'am," I continued, this time at regular volume, voice cracking a little. I didn't want Bill to hear how scared I actually was.

"Ma'am, are you ok?"

I leaned over the gate to the gun counter and looked down at her - she seemed to have passed out, and was lying flat on her back with a trail of blood-flecked foam dribbling down the side of her face.

"Stay here," I told Bill as I reached inside the counter to undo the catch on the swinging door.

This time he didn't resist, simply standing there, eyes as wide as ever I'd seen them and every muscle in his body as taut as a bow string. At a nod, he'd run; I could tell it was everything he could do not to take off down the aisle we'd just come up

I looked Marie's body over again. I could tell it was a body: she wasn't wheezing any more. In fact, her chest didn't move at all. Feeling for a pulse in her wrist as I bent down, I couldn't help but flinch at the slightly rotten smell I'd noticed before. It reminded me of the scent of a mass grave I'd ridden by in the back of a military truck in Sumatra after the tsunami hit in December of '04. It was all I could do to keep my racing mind from following that memory; I'd been dealing with the nightmares of that experience ever since, and the smell was something that would never, ever leave me.

Death. She smelled like death. She had smelled that way while she was still standing, while she was still moving.

"Dad, is she ..." Bill couldn't bring himself to end his question as I dropped her lifeless arm back to the ground.

"Yes, I'm afraid so, Son." Never had a phrase rung so truly. I was afraid. Very afraid.

H1Z1 - Chapter 2

2009-05-02T08:17:00.004-07:00

As we stepped through the door, it seemed as through eerie was the word for the day - Wad-Mart is usually a zoo on a Saturday morning, even if it was this early. Obviously, with the flu scare, no one was venturing too far from their hovels, but I don't remember the store ever seeming this empty.

Doors automatically sliding closed behind us, Bill and I immediately aimed ourselves to the back right of the store and the outdoors section. We rarely shopped anywhere but the outdoors section, unless one or the other of us needed a new shirt or my wife dragged me, kicking and screaming like a distruptive two-year-old through the store on a shopping expedition.

"Dad," he asked, and the tone in his voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up even further, if that is even possible. "Where is everybody?"

"I'm not sure, Son," I replied, shaking my hand free of his so he didn't notice how sweaty my palms had suddenly become. "Let's just go get some shells and get out of here."

As we strode with purpose down the aisle between the electronics and toys, I scanned the cashier stands at the front of the store. This place was huge - a warehouse, more than anything, but I could usually see a cashier at one of the 30 or so check out stands. I thought I might have seen someone's head way down at the other end of the store (it seemed like it was half-a-mile away), but I couldn't be sure. One of the reasons I loathe this stupid store so much is that they have so many check-out stands, but it seems like no more than three are manned at any given time.

'Great,' I thought. 'Only one line open. Good thing we seem to be the only people in the store.'

"Why are we the only people in the store?" my mini-doppelganger echoed.

"We're not the only people in the store, Son," was my automatic, thoughtless reply. "At least, I don't think we are.

We rounded the corner to the outdoor aisle and went directly to the shelf of brightly colored boxes designed to entice us to "Buy this ammo! None is better than ours!"

"Grab two boxes of the skeet-load," I instructed, watching as Bill scanned the labels, diligently trying to find the right kind of shells. He hesitated at the middle shelf of boxes, which were not the right ones, before his hand darted one shelf down to the correct loads just before I reminded him of what he was looking for.

"Wow, these are heavy, Dad," he grunted, hoisting the boxes under his arm.

"I know, but when you think about what's in there, you understand why.

"Did you check the box to make sure it was steel shot, not lead?" Bill was envirenmentally minded, and I had explained the differences between lead and steel shot to him, and the repercussions of all that lead in the ground at the range.

"They're all steel now, Dad, you know that!" was his reply. I never could trip him up when it came to things like this - the child had a mind like a bear trap.

"Why don't you grab a box of 20 gauge, too, Son?"

His eyes almost glowed as he nearly whooped out, "Really?"

I'd only let him shoot a few times, but he was a natural at it, remained calm and focused on the range and we had taken the range safety course together. I knew he was not only able, but that he really enjoyed shooting with me on the occasion I could smuggle him out from under his mother's watchful eye.

As he addded the box of 20 gauge shells to his pile, I turned to look at the gun counter and froze. Staring back at me was a woman in a Wad-Mart uniform. She wasn't moving, just staring, except she seemed to be staring through me - her eyes were glazed looking and didn't move around. She just stared. I noticed something else, but it didn't quite register at the time - she was drooling. In fact, a thin line of slaver ran almost all the way down her chest to the bottom of her blue vest. Her mouth was open and there was a kind of wheeze coming from her throat - not exactly breathing, not exactly coughing. But her chest barely moved - she sort of shuffled toward us. Lurched might more be the word.

"Dad? ..." I could hear the raw edge of terror in Bill's voice.

"It's ok, Son. Just be calm.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" I asked, taking a step toward the corral behind the gun counter where she was standing.

She wheezed. She didn't talk, didn't answer - it seemed like my voice registered in her head, but she didn't seem to understand what I had asked.

"Ma,am?" I asked, beginning to feel that edge of fear in my own mind.

"Dad, let's go," Bill urged, tucking the boxes of shells under his arm and tugging on my shirt sleeve.

"Just a minute, Son. I think this lady needs our help."

I took another step toward her and she lurched toward me again - spittle bubbling in her mouth and a froth beginning to spill from her lips. A bloody froth.

"Lady! Can you hear me?" I shouted, torn between getting closer and turning tail and running.

My spine felt like a rod of ice - my blood, however, burned as it raced through my limbs. I could not only see that there was something terribly, terribly wrong with this woman, but, and my mind balked at this realization, I could smell something wrong with her.

"Dad! No!" Bill spurted as I reached out to touch her. She was burning up - I could feel heat through the sleeve of her blouse as I gently shook her shoulder. Her eyes were still looking through me, but she seemed to recognized my touch and lurched toward me again, hitting the little swinging door of the corral and stumbling.

It took me a minute to understand that I was hearing a feral growl from deep in the back of her throat, but by this time, instinct had taken over and I jerked my hand away, subconsciously wiping it clean on my shirt as I took a step back from her.

"Dad, we need to go!" Bill said, pulling harder at my sleeve.

"Yeah, Son. Yes. I think we do," I said, backing away, eyes not leaving the slavering, lurching woman as she bumped against the corral door over and over, not seeming to realize she had to unlatch it to get out from behind the counter.

H1Z1 - Chapter 1

2009-05-01T07:12:00.005-07:00

It started innocently enough, I guess. I mean, it's a flu virus, right? How bad can that be?

Yes, I remember the Spanish flu outbreak of 1918, yes, there have been several outbreaks since then and a lot of people have died, but it's 2009 for goodness' sake! We've made such huge medical advances since then - and we can't handle a little outbreak of some new flu virus?

I took it in stride. Went to work. Washed my hands. Went "tch tch" at news reports coming from Mexico about the spread of the virus. Now big deal, right? It's just the flu - I had my flu mist this year, I am good to go!

Then the reports started changing. At first the chatter all seemed to point to it being a myth - I mean, really? Zombies? You're kidding, right?

I kept living my life. Kept going to work. Washed my hands like the news said to do. Stayed clear of large public venues where snot-nosed children put their hands on everything - you know, Wad-Mart. I thought I was safe.

I was wrong. I couldn't have been more wrong.

Ironically, it was a trip to Wad-Mart that brought the reality of the new and very different viral strain, H1Z1, to light for me - that one fateful trip.

As usual, I climbed into my SUV on a sunny but somewhat wind-swept Saturday morning with the intent of hitting the store for some shells and heading out to the skeet range. I brought my son with me just to give the wife a break - besides, I could rent him a 20-gauge at the range and let him shoot with me (she didn't know I would do this and I wanted to keep things that way, but the boy needs to learn to hunt!).

Our neighborhood is quiet on an a Saturday at 8:00 a.m. no matter what, but this morning I didn't even hear dogs barking, which seemed fine with my two furry knuckleheads, who piled into the back of the truck like it was Christmas morning and they could smell a huge pile of dog treats wrapped in a present. I absolutely love the enthusiasm of my silly dogs, but sometimes, I wonder how much actual brain action is going on in those furry skulls.

The four of us, me, the boy and the doggy doggy headed out - my thoughts were not on what I was doing, but I really couldn't tell you now what it was that was whispering in the back of my mind and making all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

There was almost no traffic - a fire engine whipped by me at the stop light - lights on but no siren, but beyond that, I only saw a few other early morning adventurers out on the road. Again, not that unusual, it is, after all, a fairly small city.

The closer we got to the store, the more the dogs seemed to be picking up on whatever it was that had my hackles raised, because theirs began to raise, too. The bitch, Sarah, started to whine as I turned into the Wad-Mart parking lot.

"What's a matter, baby?" I crooned, using that sweet, soft voice every dog owner uses with their pet when it seems nervous or scared. Funny, that voice - you could be the toughest, meanest, baddest-assed biker punk on the planet, but you talk in that funny, sweet voice when your dog is upset. Go figure.

Sasha looked at me with her head cocked as Steve, our male, started whining, too.

"It's OK, babies," I crooned, looking at my son, who was petting Sasha and crooning to her as well. He just shrugged and kept trying to soother her.

Not too busy here this morning, thank goodness. I am never a fan of the huge super-we-have-it-all stores in the first place, but I sincerely loathe Wad-Mart. There's something about the parade of skinny idiots in wife-beaters with mullets and overweight, frazzled mommies with 27 1/2 kids that simply puts my teeth on edge. My strategy? Get in, go straight to what I want and get out.

As I made sure my son had cracked his window for the dogs, I noticed that it was eerily quiet here, too. I mean quiet. 'You know, this is that moment in the cheesy horror movie where the sacrificial (your fave here - bimbo, minority, dumb jock, etc ...) whoever goes, "Yeah, too quiet ...", I thought to myself as I locked the door. I almost said the same to my son, but refrained.

At ten, Bill is my spitting image. It's like me-redux but with lighter hair. Same eyes, same chin, same bit of paunch and tendency toward love handles when we don't get out enough. The only thing that marks us apart when you look at photos of my tenth year and him, today, is a scar on my chin just below the lip. I got that one when I was three or four - I fell on my face and shoved my bottom teeth through my lip. I can still remember having stitches sewn into it; not a favorite memory of mine.

This morning, we were both dressed for the range - jeans, light shooting jackets with shoulder pads, he in a favorite, smelly beat-up ball cap, me in my empire Stetson. My shotgun was dutifully racked in the driver's side window in the back of the SUV - barrel NOT pointed at my head as I drove. I was thinking about picking up a 20-gauge of his own for Bill this morning, but still wasn't sure how I'd get that idea through to my pacifist wife, who only rolled over and mumbled when I got up at 6:00 a.m. to shower, shave and throw some bacon and eggs on the stove for the boy and I.

We, "The Bobsy Twins" as my Mother called us, walked toward the entrance of this disgusting, over commercialized, price-cutting, wage raping establishment, alone. Utterly alone. One of the dogs gave us a single bark as we walked off from the truck, as if to say, "Wait! You don't know what you're getting in to!"

'I know," I thought. 'I've gone through this before. I can handle the idiots at Wad-Mart."

Bill looked back at the truck, biting his lip like he does when some thing's bothering him.

"Dad?" He asked. "Can we bring the dogs in? They look lonely."

"Son, you know we can't bring them in here," I replied. "But we'll stop at the Pet-Mart on the way out-of-town and we can take them in to buy them treats, okay?"

This seemed to mollify him and he reached out to grab my hand as we walked through the automatic doors. I love the fact that, even though he's ten now, and a Big Boy, he'll still reach out to hold me hand in a crowded place, or when we're all alone.

It very well may be the end!

2009-04-30T19:33:00.002-07:00

Evidence is surfacing that H1N1 has actually mutated into H1Z1! The Zombie Apocalypse is upon us!

I, for one, am stockpiling shotgun shells, gas and 2-stroke oil for my chainsaw, about 100 bottles of vodka to make Molotov Cocktails with, and anything else I might be able to use to defend myself from the putrescent horde.

This very well could be it, my friends. The day of the Zombie is upon us!

So now what?

2009-04-29T15:13:00.005-07:00

I got a phone call a little while ago. A phone call I was not very pleased with.

Looking at my cell, the number was familiar only in that it was the base switchboard. I always hate answering these calls because they are almost always either my boss needing me to come back in or the clinic calling to tell me how many ways my body is rebelling against youth and good health.

It was the latter.

"Mr. Guhrilla? This is 'Nan' from the base Clinic calling you to tell you that you have a referral to Orthopedics."

"What? Why do I have that?" I asked, fighting that 'wonderful' feeling of my stomach clenching as I tried valiantly to keep it from crawling up my throat by way of my spine. My eyes actually began to tear up. A referral.

"They didn't tell you?" This, she asked with just as glib a voice as the one she used to announce to me that I had been "referred."

"No ma'am, they didn't."

"We got the results from your MRI and you have a bulging disc."

Now I ask you, who, in their right mind, calls an almost middle-aged man who has been suffering with extreme lower back pain for months (at this point) and tells him, over the phone no less, "Oh by the way, you're on the path to life-long pain, discomfort, eternal physical therapy and we might be able to throw in repeated surgeries, too! YAY!"

I could almost visualize Miss Super Happy jumping up and down and clapping as she dropped what, to me, felt like a virtual death sentence in my lap. I swear I heard her office-mates blowing on those obnoxious party whistles and the rustle of confetti in the background as she dumped an uncertain but constantly painful future square in my lap.

I realize a bulging disc isn't the end of the world, but you have to realize, I have always been the guy who, when no one else in the shop could pick it up, would simply walk over, lift the offending item and nonchalantly ask, "Where do you want it?"

Now I'm the guy who limps and hunches over a little because his back can't stand to stand straight and take long steps. I can't sit in one position for too long, I can't stand for too long - heck, I have to take a painkiller and a muscle relaxer just to be able to sleep fitfully and wake up miserable.

Always been strong as a horse - always. And now this. Is this the punishment I deserve for growing one more year older? Is this the curse I deserve for wanting to be that strong, virile man for ever and ever?

Well, damn it, I am NOT going to take this lying down. No. I am going to fight. I am going to win, too. It is MY body, damn it, and I refuse to let it tell me how to survive. I am going to find a way to fix this doggone disc, even if it means a rusty X-acto and a mallet! I refuse to let this break me!

Now, where's that box that needs to be put up on that shelf. I'll ...

go lie down and rest and then supervise my son as he puts it where it belongs.

Damn.

Swine flu?

2009-04-28T11:57:00.002-07:00

I don't think so - I believe its actually the beginning of the Zombie Apocalypse!

I am putting together my Zombie survival kit now!!!

My summer goal

2009-04-22T12:07:00.003-07:00

http://www.fotp.com/ringthepeak/index.html

I am going to hike the Ring the Peak trail system counter-clockwise in a single trip. I will backpack it, to be precise, and, as it's 63 miles, my goal will be to do so in approximately a week, camping at the end of each day.

So now my thinking is on the logistics involved, namely, packing enough nutrition to finish the week strong, whether or not to try and bring my son, even whether or not I could manage to haul enough weight to bring the dogs.

Looking at the trail maps (linked above), there are several spots where I could simply cache additional supplies, however, I think the greater challenge (and more appreciable one) would be to carry everything that I need with me.

Then there's the one section of non-existent trail from Gillett to Forest Service Road 376. DO I make like the pioneers and simply hoof it, making sure I'm on the right side of the Forest Service road before I decide to camp? Or do I simply forgo that section of trail, arrange to be picked up and ferried to the next finished segment? My gut says hoof it - make the walk - it is Public Land, just no right of way agreement with the city of Colorado Springs, and be sure I camp back on Forest Service land.

Other logistical questions are easier to answer - Brita makes an outstanding backpacker's water filter, and I own a super lightweight backpacker's stove should it come down to boiling my drinking water. A pack, clothing, tent and sleeping bag are all simple, too. Should I bring the boy, a second pack so that he could carry his share would certainly not be a problem, either. Convincing him that he's capable of 10 or so miles per day is another matter - but we'd be averaging 2.5-3 miles per hour, barring stops for photos and the like, so I doubt it would be too big an issue for him.

Thinking about it, I doubt I would bring the dogs. Too much trouble for a first time trek like this - it would be best to know the trail and the capabilities of both me and the boy before I made the hike.

Hmm ... I like the idea of making this trip ...

The story of the volcano and how Raven grieved for his old friend

2009-04-02T12:27:00.001-07:00

In the woods of the great Northwest lived a man and a teacher. His many years imparted wisdom to him and he, in turn, shared this wisdom with his children and the children of his children.

This teaching man liked to teach his grandchildren best of all. He taught them how to speak, how to write, how to listen and how to hear. He taught them how to fish, because fishing is the way of the people of the woods of the great Northwest.

This teaching man taught Raven's people as well. He made a way for them to have magical boxes which connected them to all of the world even when they lived so far North that in the summer the sun never set and in the winter the sun never rose. The teaching man sent his daughter to deliver the boxes. With these boxes the world of the people of Raven grew smaller, and their reach across that world grew larger.

Raven often visited the teaching man, sitting high in a tree by his house, croaking and cackling as he watched over this friend who helped make the world smaller. Raven wondered at the man's patience and caring. Raven admired his dedication to his children and his children's children and in time, even their children.

One day, the teaching man began to feel the weight of his wise years. Raven noticed that the man walked less and had to sit more, yet still the man cared and taught and he would even take sweats in a tee-pee next to his house, to talk to Raven and the other spirits. Raven smiled, knowing that the man was a wonderful man, but a man nonetheless, and that his time grew short on the earth.

Raven decided, as this man's time on earth waned, that he would wake the volcano to commemorate the greatness of the teaching man. Flapping his mighty wings, Raven flew down to the volcano and spoke to it of the great love which the teaching man shared with his family. The volcano awoke and began to shudder with tears, for the words of Raven about the teaching man touched his heart. As Raven left, the volcano promised that it would commemorate the teaching man appropriately, and the ash from his tears as they roiled inside the mountain began to kiss the sky of the world of men in commemoration of the waning of the teaching man.

This is why, whenever a great friend of Raven begins to pass, the volcano awakes and begins to mourn, and even the snow which falls from the sky carries a gray pallor. Because Raven gave the gift of his memory of the teaching man, Raymond, to his friend the volcano as Raymond's life began to slip away from his body. This is why Mt. Redoubt is erupting and showering the people with ashes. Soon, Raymond's ashes will join those of the volcano and the Raven will enjoy his friend's company forever.

Grandfather, I love you and I thank you for the years of wisdom you shared with me. I pray that I can touch as many lives during my life as you have during yours.

Joaquin

Digital Natives

2009-03-05T07:53:00.002-07:00

This is what my children are - digital natives. Think about it - my generation, "Generation X" - we're the first settlers in the newly discovered digital world. We grew up with satellite TV, satellite communications, the very beginnings of the Internet, and pretty much every home eventually had a computer in it - our first was an Epson that had a tiny 4-inch green screen and folded up into a suitcase.

My parents were missionaries in the digital environment. My mother worked for a while as a computer networking technician for Alaska Pacific University. She set up computers in villages the Alaska bush, which were networked to the University in Anchorage via satellite, and then to the central hub for the company which was running the program, Control Data. These are the very basic underpinnings of the tool we know and share on a daily basis, the Internet.

Mom's parents, my Grandparents, were the discoverers of this amazing new digital world. Grandpa ran the program at APU (nepotism, I know). People of his generation built the first actual computers - from ENIAC to the invention of the microchip. These were the Columbus's of their time - those who dared posit that the world was not flat at all ...

Which makes me and my generation the proud parents of the first generation born fully immersed in the ever-changing world of digital technology.

Think about this: since my daughter was born in 1991, cell phones have shrunk from the size of a walkie-talkie almost down to the size of a credit card. The computer has shrunk from a box the size of a suitcase and a monitor the size of a house to a thin notebook which you can fit in an envelope or a hand-held device 1,000 - times more powerful than that first Apple IIe I was so very proud of in the 7th grade. For her, technology ebbs and flows like the tide does for us, and she's used to instant information, instant entertainment and instant gratification. Why not? All she has to do is Google it if she wants to find something out.

The problem with this - and I see it as a generational problem from which even my generation suffers to a degree - is that in learning that she can find it now, she has failed to learn the PROCESS. She doesn't understand, and we're, as a generation, as two or even THREE generations, failing to teach, to train her generation in how the PROCESS is as important as the RESULTS.

Why learn to exercise when you can get liposuction or lap-band surgery? Who cares about learning to take care of ones self when all one has to do is get a pill to fix it?

Why learn how to perform long division when you can just pull up your calculator on your laptop?

Why balance your checkbook? Why even HAVE a checkbook? Just log on to the bank and look at your account balance!

But when they don't understand the need for Process, the need for learning the steps, they don't truly learn the hows and whys as to the way the world (OUR FAULT, not THEIRS), they feel entitled to the benefits of that process even though they didn't go through it.

And now the government is following through and entitling their entitlement. Let's bail out the economy! Let's socialize medicine! Let's tax the rich and give to the poor not because they deserve it, but because we CAN.

We no longer have to work to earn our living - we can be guaranteed housing, medical care, food - why bother working? We are ENTITLED to these things, according to the president. We needn't EARN them!

I, for one, am going to teach my children how to EARN what they need, and how to protect what they EARN. It's the only way we, as a society, are going to survive - the way our forefathers built this nation, and something we need to return to.

Colorado Springs to impose 911 fees for lazy hikers!!!!

2009-02-23T11:56:00.002-07:00

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,498007,00.html

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

Robots of war

2009-02-19T09:20:00.003-07:00

.Military’s killer robots must learn warrior code

Creating devices to do our dirty work for us, in my opinion, would create a particular heartlessness that I believe would actually INCREASE our proclivity for violence. If all I suffer is a robot destroyed while you lose villages and people, what difference is that to me? My people didn't die, my land was not over-run ... It seems a dark road to travel down.

As it is, human suffering, ours and theirs, gives us, the U.S. reason to think twice before sending in the troops - at least, I hope it does. In my mind, if a situation could be avoided by diplomacy then it is worth far more to pursue that avenue than to send in the military. That being said, there are certainly good reasons to send in the military - with the understanding that it will cost us, most likely as dearly as it will cost "them".

But if we were to send in machinery to do the dirty work, where is the cost? Money for more machines. Where is the human suffering? Not in MY hometown ... Who would benefit? The contractors who build the robots and their employees - hell, it would be a boon to the economy. But what would stop us or any other nation from pursuing war as a solution when we don't stand to lose much at all? And what IF those machines develop "minds of their own"?

General Douglas MacArthur said, "I know war as few other men now living know it, and nothing to me is more revolting. I have long advocated its complete abolition, as its very destructiveness on both friend and foe has rendered it useless as a method of settling international disputes."

How true is this? I think of what the ramifications would have been had we sent robots into Iraq - machines have no conscience, no compassion, simply a mission. If robots overthrew Saddam, drove out insurgencies and dismantled the Iraqi military, who would help rebuild the country? I think it would be naive in the extreme to say, "We would."

No, we wouldn't. We already spent x-numbers of billions of dollars sending our robot army over to do our will. Mission accomplished, regime overthrown, now what? We ship the robots home. We vote not to extend our time "over there" or keep wasting our tax dollars "over there". We withdraw from our neighbors and into ourselves and any time someone pisses us off, we simply launch our robots.

And let me ask this: if "THEY" have robots, too, and the robots fight the robots - WHO WINS????? What would be the point in the first place? We'd fall back on the diplomatic routes and eventually end up sending humans, or worse, using bigger weapons (nukes), because, "Hey, 'Kreblakistan', we don't like you, so we're sending our robots to beat up your robots" just doesn't make any sense! The whole point of war, or a fistfight, for that matter, is, "I don't agree with you, so I'm going to beat you until you submit or until you beat ME and I HAVE to put up with your point of view."

I am all for defending those who are suffering and standing for freedom and democracy. I feel that the current war(s) are and were justified and that we will have, ultimately, done some good in this world. But if we start doing that "good" via remote control, we lose yet another piece of our humanity, and if, as the linked article mentions, those robots develop a "mind of their own" and decide to turn their programming and abilities back on their creators, we've done nothing but develop yet another form of human suffering and warfare.

Let's use robots to disarm roadside bombs, fly reconnaisance missions and conduct deep strike missions. But when it comes to feet on the ground warfare, we need to remember that it's the humanity of the mission that keeps us from escalating and ultimately destroying ourselves.

Interesting thought:

2009-02-13T10:14:00.001-07:00

Times have not become more violent. They have just become more televised.
- Marilyn Manson

Since when?

2009-02-02T16:04:00.003-07:00

http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=D963IPR81&show_article=1

Since when did we start expecting our elite athletes to be elite humans? It doesn't work that way -- we're all just human and we all make mistakes. Whether it's Michael Phelps loading up a bong or a Catholic Bishop caught having an affair (or worse), people whom society tends to place a higher set of characteristic and behavioral expectations on almost never fail to let us down.

I am certain that part of the issue is the fact that media is now instantly accessable - we can see the exploits of our "heroes" almost as it happens - people are posting photos and video to the Web from their phones in near-real-time, giving a judgemental media ability to instantly condemn or praise their actions and send the word out world-wide. The pressure that this creates on public figures has got to be overwhelming, and the expectations of a public whom understands only what the media shows them of a person - who only gets a two-dimensional view - well, one can only assume that that creates a crushing weight.

So what do we do as responsible citizens? Point and cluck our tongues, wagging our heads knowingly? Disassociate ourselves from any fan-dom or reverence of said transgressors? Shove it in the backs of our minds and try to ignore it? What do we do when one of our children comes up and asks us why their hero decided to smoke pot?

I don't really have an answer except to explain that Mr. Phelps made a poor decision and let's learn from his mistake and not do it ourselves. But it certainly does raise a few questions.

You have GOT to be fucking KIDDING!!!

2009-01-30T07:08:00.005-07:00

http://www.peta.org/sea_kittens/

Our friends at PETA have begun a new campaign - to rename fish "sea kittens" because, "nobody would hurt a a sea kitten!"

Seriously ... sea kittens?

Heh ...

I kill "sea kittens" for sport - although I guess you'd really have to call them "River kittens" or "Creek kittens" or sometimes "Pond kittens." Trouble is, when you throw an actual kitten into one of these bodies of water, people frown on you and try to attack you!

I think PETA's stupidity could breed additional stupidity as people will be so confused over which kitten is which that they'll try to throw all of 'em into the water, causing the Great Kitten Civil War and destroying the nation in a paroxism of kitten-defending/dunking gunplay.

Nope, PETA's true goal here is clear: to undermine the government by confusing stupid people, thus causing the war. I say we tie PETA in plastic bags and throw them over bridges - that way they can go play with their "Sea kittens."

New career for C-4!

2009-01-29T12:13:00.002-07:00

If you haven't seen "Livin' the Low Life" on Speed, you're missing out on a treat - sawheeeeeet! low riders, some great videography and the hotness that is Vida Guerra, although I think C-4 could probably do a better job - bikinis and guns!

I Told You So!!!!!

2009-01-29T08:59:00.001-07:00

They're coming!!!!! Get your Zombie Apocalypse Survival Kit© ready!!!

Um ... Yer kidding, right?

2009-01-26T07:07:00.002-07:00

FLOTUS duds get backlash

Alright ... this is ridiculous. The first lady didn't wear clothing by a black designer so she's "snubbed the African American community?"

Give me a freakin' break! She wore clothing by non-caucasian designers - pointedly so - and SHE is black! OK? You're missing the freaking point here! It doesn't matter what the fuck she wore! SHE IS BLACK!!!

Someone shoot these morons, please?!!?!?!

Inauguration Day

2009-01-20T08:38:00.003-07:00

Well, I predeicted here that there would either be an assassination attempt or terrorist attack by now. I am glad neither has occurred.

I am curious to see how the next six months pans out, though. I fear one ot both of my predictions may still fulfill themselves ...

If not, GREAT! Let's see if our new president can actually change the system!

Apocalypse NOW?

2009-01-13T12:44:00.001-07:00

The United States Congress is on YouTube. We're all going to die.

Holidays

2008-12-30T07:24:00.001-07:00

Well, I know I haven't posted here in a while, but here's a brief update: busy with work, stupidity reigns, get a few days off for Christmas, daughter home for Christmas (BIG YAY), send daughter back to Alaska, back to work, more stupidity, looking forward to drinking beer tomorrow night.

I hope you all had a great Christmas and that the new year will be AWESOME!

"Mom, my head hurts ..."

2008-12-12T08:05:00.001-07:00

Boy Survives After 16-Inch Arrow Is Shot Through Head
Thursday , December 11, 2008

A Chinese schoolboy narrowly escaped death after being accidentally shot through the head with a 16-inch arrow.

The arrow pierced Liu Cheong's eye socket, traveled through his head and lodged in the back of his skull.

The 11-year-old only survived because the arrow missed his brain.

"If the arrow had been shot with just a bit more force, it would have come out the back of his head," said medics at Jida Hospital in Changchun, eastern China.

Surgeons chipped away at parts of the boy's skull for more than four hours to remove the arrow, which had sunk more than four inches into his head.

"It is a miracle he survived the accident," said one medic.

Doctors have warned his parents he still faces a risk of infection and even further operations.

Teachers at Liu's school believe the accident happened when the young archers were practicing on their own.

#$%@!!@^#!~!

2008-12-11T09:27:00.001-07:00

Nothing can make me curse more bitterly then when my damned dog does something stupid!

Luckily, she's ok, but I have to put up new fences now.

Stupid dog.

Total geek moment here ...

2008-11-19T08:53:00.002-07:00

Oh My GOD!!!!!

A new Start Trek movie!

You have no personality. You are military.

2008-11-15T04:35:00.000-07:00

"You have no personality. You are military."

From my civilian supervisor, I get this. You are military. You have no personality.

Nice. Using that logic, since I am no longer authorized to exhibit my personailty, I must no longer perform my duties with any sort of passion. My passion is a part of my personailty. But no longer will I apply that particular passion to my work. I will simply come in, punch the clock, do my time and leave, and to hell with the people who I swore to protect and defend because that very OATH was based in a passion I contain, a zeal, a love for my nation and the willingness to sacrifice my time, my family, my very freedom for some jackass who tells me I am not authorized to have a personality.

No longer. I won't use my personality, because if I DID use my personality, then I would have to give a shit. And I will tell you right now, the soul-crushing attitude of a supervisor who tells an overworked, underpaid non-commissioned officer that he is not authorized to have a personality is the kind of person our enemies NEED.

No wonder we have such a rampant problem with PTSD soldiers coming back from the war - they're not allowed personalities, and yet, because they are human, they HAVE personalities, and it's the soul-wrenching schism between their own humanity and the system's adamant denial of said humanity which has broken their spirits and their minds.

No personality.

Fine. See if I bust my ass to make you look good for NO reward of any kind anymore. From here on out, you get the bare minimum. I'll waste my PERSONALITY on my family and my home life. Fuck you, fuck this place and fuck the service. If you don't care for the well-being of your personnel, America, then your personnel, your servicemembers, YOUR SOLDIERS, will turn their backs on YOU.

THEN where will you be?

Foreshock, Southern California, 0917 hrs. Magnitude 3.6

2008-11-13T20:36:00.005-07:00

It began at nearly six in the morning, as far as Evan could figure. Ralph, his 197-lb Mastiff shot up from his customary spot at the foot of the bed and howled. Keened was more like it, thought Evan. He had never heard the gentle brute make that sound and he'd owned - or been owned by - the gargantuan dog for the 12 years of his life. Something in the sound of Ralphie's howl struck a chord deep in Evan's spine. A primal place, a terror place, a place most people no longer remember their bodies even have.

Once he'd calmed Ralph down, Evan set about beginning his day. As he opened the back door to let the lumbering beast out for his morning constitutional, he felt there was something odd, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. He shook his head as he admonished his brindle buddy not to dig in the yard and went into the kitchen to make his morning coffee. Not that I need it, he thought to himself, I'm as jittery as if I'd had a whole pot already. That chord was still jangling up and down his spine like the sound a high-tension wire makes when struck with something like the boom of a high-lift.

It wasn't until almost nine, as he parked his truck and set off across what seemed like fourteen acres of parking lots that he realized part of what had him so very edgy: there were no birds. No bird songs, not silhouettes of gulls criss-crossing the brilliant blue sky, shrieking their hunger across the landscape below, no sandpipers, no pelicans, nothing. Not a single humming bird, even, to be seen. Weird, he thought, then tried to focus on the mind-numbing boredom of the day ahead.

Evan Farms, a sturdy, 30-something outdoors-type with sandy hair and eyes almost habitually wrung up in a squint because he refused to wear a hat or sunglasses, was an accomplished bio-chemist and researcher. Although he lived an unassuming life, Doctor Farms was the group lead on reasearch into life-prolonging agents funded by the government. Although focused more on battlefield survivability, Evan had discovered some disturbing side-effects in some of his virus-based research - he'd been able to keep a lab rat, fatally injured in a bizarre fight in its communal cage, alive using one of his viral compunds - C-313e. The only problem was, he couldn't figure out why the rat was still animated and why, if it was able still to move, breath and eat, it hadn't yet begun to heal.

And what it ate ... well, Evan had an endless supply of insects to feed the creature, especially since it would not even go near the processed pellets normally fed the laboratorie's population.

Evan began his day, passing through layer upon layer of protective measures designed to keep the sub-microscopic critters he worked with inside, to the lab to begin observations of test subjects when the first actual temblor occurred, shaking dust from the vents overhead and rattling the huge triple-thick plate glass panes which separated different areas of the lab.

Great, Evan thought as he looked around to make sure his assistants were not harmed. An earthquake. What a way to start the morning.

The first foreshock was at 0917. A little less than two hours before armageddon, as far as Evan and his lab would be concerned ...

This is a patriot!

2008-11-05T08:19:00.001-07:00

JOHN MCCAIN: Thank you. Thank you, my friends. Thank you for coming here on this beautiful Arizona evening.

(APPLAUSE)

My friends, we have -- we have come to the end of a long journey. The American people have spoken, and they have spoken clearly.

A little while ago, I had the honor of calling Senator Barack Obama to congratulate him.

(BOOING)

Please.

To congratulate him on being elected the next president of the country that we both love.

In a contest as long and difficult as this campaign has been, his success alone commands my respect for his ability and perseverance. But that he managed to do so by inspiring the hopes of so many millions of Americans who had once wrongly believed that they had little at stake or little influence in the election of an American president is something I deeply admire and commend him for achieving.

This is an historic election, and I recognize the special significance it has for African-Americans and for the special pride that must be theirs tonight.

I've always believed that America offers opportunities to all who have the industry and will to seize it. Senator Obama believes that, too.

But we both recognize that, though we have come a long way from the old injustices that once stained our nation's reputation and denied some Americans the full blessings of American citizenship, the memory of them still had the power to wound.

A century ago, President Theodore Roosevelt's invitation of Booker T. Washington to dine at the White House was taken as an outrage in many quarters.

America today is a world away from the cruel and frightful bigotry of that time. There is no better evidence of this than the election of an African-American to the presidency of the United States.

Let there be no reason now...

(APPLAUSE)

Let there be no reason now for any American to fail to cherish their citizenship in this, the greatest nation on Earth.

(APPLAUSE)

Senator Obama has achieved a great thing for himself and for his country. I applaud him for it, and offer him my sincere sympathy that his beloved grandmother did not live to see this day. Though our faith assures us she is at rest in the presence of her creator and so very proud of the good man she helped raise.

Senator Obama and I have had and argued our differences, and he has prevailed. No doubt many of those differences remain.

These are difficult times for our country. And I pledge to him tonight to do all in my power to help him lead us through the many challenges we face.

I urge all Americans...

(APPLAUSE)

I urge all Americans who supported me to join me in not just congratulating him, but offering our next president our good will and earnest effort to find ways to come together to find the necessary compromises to bridge our differences and help restore our prosperity, defend our security in a dangerous world, and leave our children and grandchildren a stronger, better country than we inherited.

Whatever our differences, we are fellow Americans. And please believe me when I say no association has ever meant more to me than that.

(APPLAUSE)

It is natural. It's natural, tonight, to feel some disappointment. But tomorrow, we must move beyond it and work together to get our country moving again.

AUDIENCE MEMBER: (OFF-MIKE)

We fought -- we fought as hard as we could. And though we feel short, the failure is mine, not yours.

AUDIENCE: No!

MCCAIN: I am so...

AUDIENCE: (CHANTING)

MCCAIN: I am so deeply grateful to all of you for the great honor of your support and for all you have done for me. I wish the outcome had been different, my friends.

AUDIENCE MEMBER: We do, too (OFF-MIKE)

MCCAIN: The road was a difficult one from the outset, but your support and friendship never wavered. I cannot adequately express how deeply indebted I am to you.

I'm especially grateful to my wife, Cindy, my children, my dear mother...

(APPLAUSE)

... My dear mother and all my family, and to the many old and dear friends who have stood by my side through the many ups and downs of this long campaign.

I have always been a fortunate man, and never more so for the love and encouragement you have given me.

You know, campaigns are often harder on a candidate's family than on the candidate, and that's been true in this campaign.

All I can offer in compensation is my love and gratitude and the promise of more peaceful years ahead.

I am also -- I am also, of course, very thankful to Governor Sarah Palin, one of the best campaigners I've ever seen...

(APPLAUSE)

... One of the best campaigners I have ever seen, and an impressive new voice in our party for reform and the principles that have always been our greatest strength...

(APPLAUSE)

... Her husband Todd and their five beautiful children...

(APPLAUSE)

... for their tireless dedication to our cause, and the courage and grace they showed in the rough and tumble of a presidential campaign.

We can all look forward with great interest to her future service to Alaska, the Republican Party and our country.

(APPLAUSE)

To all my campaign comrades, from Rick Davis and Steve Schmidt and Mark Salter, to every last volunteer who fought so hard and valiantly, month after month, in what at times seemed to be the most challenged campaign in modern times, thank you so much. A lost election will never mean more to me than the privilege of your faith and friendship.

I don't know -- I don't know what more we could have done to try to win this election. I'll leave that to others to determine. Every candidate makes mistakes, and I'm sure I made my share of them. But I won't spend a moment of the future regretting what might have been.

This campaign was and will remain the great honor of my life, and my heart is filled with nothing but gratitude for the experience and to the American people for giving me a fair hearing before deciding that Senator Obama and my old friend Senator Joe Biden should have the honor of leading us for the next four years.

(BOOING)

Please. Please.

I would not -- I would not be an American worthy of the name should I regret a fate that has allowed me the extraordinary privilege of serving this country for a half a century.

Half a century.

Today, I was a candidate for the highest office in the country I love so much. And tonight, I remain her servant. That is blessing enough for anyone, and I thank the people of Arizona for it.

(APPLAUSE)

AUDIENCE: USA. USA. USA. USA.

Tonight -- tonight, more than any night, I hold in my heart nothing but love for this country and for all its citizens, whether they supported me or Senator Obama -- whether they supported me or Senator Obama.

I wish Godspeed to the man who was my former opponent and will be my president. And I call on all Americans, as I have often in this campaign, to not despair of our present difficulties, but to believe, always, in the promise and greatness of America, because nothing is inevitable here.

Americans never quit. We never surrender.

(APPLAUSE)

We never hide from history. We make history.

Thank you, and God bless you, and God bless America. Thank you all very much.

Election eve predictions

2008-11-03T13:19:00.001-07:00

OK, I have striven to remain SOMEWHAT apolitical in this blog and, actually, this post is not biased in any way - it is my prediction of the outcome of the 2008 presidential election, but not quite what you think it is.

First, a small bit of background: I work at U.S. Northern Command, which is charged with two primary missions: Homeland Defense and Defense Support of Civil Authority.

My first election prediction: You will hear MUCH more about USNORTHCOM within the next six months. Here's why:

If McCain wins, there will be riots, riots akin to the Watts Riots in L.A. during the last century. USNORTHCOM will come in to the news when local and state governments request federal assistance in quelling said riots.

If Obama wins, after the repeal of the Patriot Act, the hands of government agencies charged with assuring that terrorists never again attack on U.S. soil as they did on 9/11 will be completely tied. All the interagency cooperation which has gone in to ensuring that another large-scale attack, or another attack, period, not occur will be thrown out the window. USNORTHCOM will be called upon in its DSCA role to respond to another major terrorist attack.

No matter who wins, I will be busy. Either way, I'd rather NOT be busy, because, quite frankly, if you hear about USNORTHCOM in the news, other than that we're conducting a training exercise, in my opinion, we're not doing our job right.

Update

2008-10-30T16:59:00.003-07:00

Things are hellish around here right now. For those of you who know me, I am going through a divorce and things are not going well. I will be pretty inocuous here - you all don't need to hear my woes. I hope to be free to live life a little more freely soon - but it will be a few months. Bear with me and know that I miss you crazy fun people.

Brakes - holy shit

2008-09-21T08:37:00.005-07:00

So I called C-4 and asked if she wanted to play cars yesterday. I had been having some difficulties with my brakes - in fast, there was this horrible grinding noise that sounded like certain death was imminent, so we started tearing in to the truck, pulled the wheels off, opened the hubs, pulled out the bearing in front and installed new rotors ...

We got to the back and I discovered the REAL culprit, though ...

Here's what the piston looked like:

Not good. Here's what it did to the back side of the rear right rotor:

And here's the culprit; a little metal plate that rests on the back side of the brake shoe and must have shaken itself loose to wreak pure havoc on my brakes!

Big ups to my ninja C-4 for letting me invade her garage and helping out with the grease-monkeying!!!

It's the End(?) of the World As We Know It ...

2008-09-10T06:33:00.002-07:00

And I feel fine.

/rant

YARRRR!!!!!!!!!!

2008-09-05T07:08:00.000-07:00

It be comin'!!!

ROFLOL

2008-09-04T13:59:00.000-07:00

http://www.mulletsgalore.com/

I

am

in

awe ...

Yesterday's run and why the HELL did I wake up at 4 AM?

2008-03-25T05:00:00.002-07:00

So, I hadn't gone on a real run for about 2 months when I hit the trail yesterday. My lungs tried to crawl up out of my throat almost immediately. Ugh.

So I worked through warming up by doing some really, really slow wind sprints. I'm talking more like wind crawls here, but hey - I was getting exercise, right?

After about a mile and a half working my way up the paved trail on Sand Creek, my lungs realized I wasn't going to quit any time soon and that they might as well start feeding my poor body some oxygen. I was able to settle into a pace then, albeit a slow one.

All in all, alternating run and walk, I made about six miles and scouted what could be a hellacious DIM-type trail. Gonna see how the running progresses before I commit to haring one of those, though.

Shoulder felt pretty good, but I iced it when I got home anyway, just to help make sure things stay hunky dory in there. I'm going to spend some time exploring Palmer Park today - should be a good day for it.

Easter, Monday morning

2008-03-24T07:12:00.003-07:00

OK. So the shoulder is doing pretty damned good, although I have one hell of a deep tissue bruise from the dislocation. I start my new exercises (strength) on Wednesday, and the next phase of my recovery officially begins at that time.

I am going to attempt to run today - probably not much, as I don't know how my shoulder will respond, but I put a compression shirt on to help with the impact and I have a safe, level, paved trail to run on, so I won't be risking another fantastic wonderful shoulder-dislocating mud-ballet.

Yesterday, the boy and I took a walk along my trail looking for some decorative slate someone had dumped over their fence. Someone beat us to it, but I have this idea now - Nappy Headed WHORE!!! is giving me the Kimchi bar (yes, the infamous BFE bar) and I was thinking of refinishing it in slate with a marble top (Net's idea) and putting it in my Man Cave. SO we wanted to snag that slate, because it would have been perfect. Alas, all we got out of it was a 10-mile walk - which was pretty sweet in its own way.

I am thinking on getting my fishing license soon - and working my cast back up to shape. We'll have to see what the PT says ...

Poop.

P.S. Sunrise Earth is the Great Barrier Reef today. But no flying sharks. *yawn*

Day 20

2008-03-20T13:59:00.002-07:00

OK. Physical therapy will not work with me until I do my follow up with my surgeon tomorrow morning.

That is fine. I am going to sit down with the surgeon, tell him what happened, show him that I seem to have full mobility and strength, even after the dislocation and ask if we need to proceed as normal or do another MRI and determine if I damaged myself further.

Bottom line is that I want this to heal right, and I will do whatever it takes to make sure things come together correctly - including walking on the treadmill at the gym rather than enjoying the GLORIOUS Colorado outdoors.

Um ... maybe I can get a special walker that catches me when I slip in the mud.

This fucking sucks you know?

Major setback

2008-03-19T06:38:00.003-07:00

I was out for my walk yesterday along Hancock Parkway. I was walking along a slight slope on the side of the road, on what looked like dry ground. As a matter of fact, it was not - there was about 1/4 inch of mud on top of hard-packed ground. My feet went out from under me, more like shot out, and my entire body weight slammed down directly on my bad shoulder, dislocating it.

I spent the rest of my morning and a good part of my afternoon in the emergency room, waiting to get my shoulder put back into the joint.

I have a follow-up appointment with my orthopedic surgeon today.

Needless to say, I will be walking on a treadmill in the gym for a while. Outdoors presents a danger and I am not sure how much of a danger, but we'll find out what the damage is today.

Day 18

2008-03-18T08:12:00.003-07:00

Good PT. Good coffee. Sunrise International was Machu Picchu this morning. Very cool.

I need a good long walk today, I think. Gotta get a haircut, too. I am really getting bored. But there aren't a lot of projects I can do because of the shoulder.

Hopefully, the weather starts to settle down for real, as I can do some limited gardening.

This is why I love Colorado Springs!!!

2008-03-17T16:21:00.001-07:00

Garden Of The Gods in Snow

Happy St. Patty's Day 17

2008-03-17T07:27:00.002-07:00

After a rough afternoon yesterday (the boy knocked something off of my lap, I reacted naturally and tried to grab it - ouch!), physical therapy this morning loosened me back up nicely.

Sunrise this morning is in the rain forests of Peru, and I can't wait to send the boy to school (2 hour delay) so I can head out to Garden of the Gods, get my walk in and take pictures off all this snow!

Day 16

2008-03-16T14:43:00.003-07:00

OK. This weather is bizarre. Gorgeous yesterday for the Green Dress Run, freaking blizzard today?

Tweaked my shoulder this afternoon - not good. Had something knocked off my lap by an inattentive child and I jerked my right arm to try to reach it. Ouch. Ice is my friend.

Brilliant!!

2008-03-15T07:49:00.003-07:00

I don't know who this guy is, but he is THE MAN! I think he should be running the United Nations.

Oh, and physical therapy exercises went well this morning. Looking forward to walking the Hash - I got about three miles in yesterday, too.

Two weeks since surgery!

2008-03-14T08:07:00.004-07:00

OK. Physical therapy this morning: NO ISSUES. Feels great, the shoulder moves well, everything is good.

If any of you want to mail my sister get-well cards, that's what she wants. A bunch of get well cards. She is in Portland, OR to finish her tattoo apprenticeship, so tat themed cards would be appropriate. How cool if she gets a bunch f cards from absolute strangers 1/2 way across the country?

Bring them to the Hash tomorrow, or e-mail me and I can give you her address.

I hope there will be some wankers at Arctic tonight. Just sayin'.

C-4, WTF is with this weather? It was freaking 65 yesterday and I took an hour-long walk in the SUN! Today? 'S ok. I am planning to stroll the Garden of the Gods with my camera. See if we can't get some great shots of the beauty that is Colorado Springs.

Sunrise International was a beach full of baby seals in Argentina this morning. I don't know. I kinda feel like, if I want to wake up to a huge pile of corpusculent, snoring and farting mammals, I'll just go to another party at Brownie's.

Does anyone have a wheel-barrow I can buy or have?

Day 14 (DUH. This was day 13, I need a beer)

2008-03-13T07:50:00.002-07:00

Um, ok. So, Sunrise International is in Greenland. A Geyser. Kinda cool, really.

PT went very, very well this morning, but I also realized that, due to another appointment, I had scheduled my PT appointment for YESTERDAY afternoon. So I forgot, blew off the appointment and feel like an idiot. I have to call and beg to reschedule for tomorrow. Ugh.

Still freaked out about my sister. Not sure what, but my brain is cooking some kind of idea of how to deal with that.

Let's just say this: We really need to make sure we look out for each other, Kimchi. Let's not let this happen to one of us.

Day 12

2008-03-12T07:40:00.002-07:00

We're at a fishing village in Turkey this morning for sunrise, and with the exceptions of a few small twinges, my PT exercises were pretty damn smooth this morning. I am debating whether to request a push, and move to the next phase or keep steady and slow and let things take their time. Last thing I want is a frozen shoulder, or to tear or re-injure something.

I am hesitant about the weather today, but I would really like to hit Red Rocks for an hour-long hike. Guess I'll just bundle up and go - a little wind and rain/snow can't hurt me.

Day 11 (thanks C-4!!!!)

2008-03-11T07:42:00.003-07:00

This morning, I woke up at 5, looked at my alarm with one eyeball, cursed it for it's damned efficiency and went back to sleep, only to re-awaking at 7, completely ready to begin my day.

I don't even know why I set my alarm. I just did. Weird.

Sunrise International was Stonehenge this morning. Eerie. I think maybe I saw a druid in the first minutes of the video.

Physical therapy went very, very well this morning. I still have a slight twinge in my shoulder when I pull my arm straight up while laying on my back, but the physical therapist did explain that, as this was the spot where they had separated some muscle in order to shave bone and arthritis off of my clavicle, this would be the last thing to heal. It's healing though!

C-4, seriously, if you want to spend a little time pulling the dash apart to design the stereo housing, just let me know. I bet there's even some Fat Tire in the fridge, isn't there?

I'm not even sure what day I'm at now

2008-03-10T07:58:00.001-07:00

But it's Monday, Sunrise International was in a little village in Turkey and my PT exercises went very well.

We went to the movies and saw 10,000 BC yesterday. I think I lost my wallet at the theater. That would really, really suck. The suckitude goes beyond words. There are credit cards in there - and bank cards. If I don't find it at the house by noon, I am going to be in some serious trouble.

Oddly enough, my military ID was still in my pocket. Weird.

I need to dig out my fly-tying gear today, I think, and start building this summer's arsenal. Going to the fishing show really motivated me.

Besides, I need to do something other than sharpen my X-Box skills.

Days 8 & morning of 9

2008-03-09T06:13:00.002-07:00

Well, I spent Saturday, day 8, first with my physical therapy, and then, after dropping the boy at the bowling alley, with a six-mile long walk. It was good to get out, get some sun, walk, sweat and enjoy the Colorado outdoors, which is insane. On the way out, sunny, warm. On the way back, clouds, wind and cold. This freaking state can't make up its mind.

Then, I got to go to the anniversary sale and show at my favorite fly-fishing shop out on 24. They had a huge sale, 20% off of Fishpond fishing vests. I got one of these and one of these for an insanely little amount of money. And I got to see some killer fly-tying, sign a petition to protect Colorado's streams and meet some great fishermen.

You have no idea how deeply it sucks to know it's going to be at least another month and a half or two before I can cast a fly-line.

But I think I need to break out my tying gear and start building my arsenal for this summer's trout season.

Day 7

2008-03-07T18:41:00.000-07:00

First follow up with my doc, who says things look amazing.

Went to a retirement ceremony.

Had Thai food for dinner.

Missed Sunrise International, though. I kinda miss it. Maybe I should set my DVR to record it.

Day 5

2008-03-05T08:47:00.003-07:00

This is not a good day. I am having some kind of adverse reaction to the percocet - it makes my whole body itch and instead of knocking me out, it makes me edgy. I called the nurse at the hospital. They need to put me on something that will kill the pain, but not turn me into a freaking tweaker.

And Sunrise International is at a Bhuddist school in Cambodia this morning, so I guess maybe China is not the only place they film.

Hopefully I can get some real painkillers today that will work. Right now, I just want to squeeze something until it pops and guts squirt all over the place. Good thing I don't own a hamster.

Day 4

2008-03-04T08:26:00.002-07:00

OK. This Sunrise International seems to focus on China being the "International".

This time its rice patties. Beautiful, yes, but worth a full hour of HD broadcast?

Anyway, I did my physical therapy exercises this morning. They suck. Seriously. But I won't be able to lift a beer properly unless I do them. Wouldn't want to disappoint at my first Circle back from surgery.

This convalescent leave stuff? It's all right, I guess. I can paint the nail holes in my trim with my left hand - and I do have enough use of my right hand to do so as well. I can re-design and publish a new Kimchi web site. Oh, and I can make fun of Net's Mom.

Physical Therapy

2008-03-03T16:20:00.004-07:00

Um ... Let's just say that the physical therapist must have apprenticed with Torquemada and the Spanish Inquisition.

But I'm going to do what they tell me to. I want to get this shoulder in shape for those 12-oz curls, not to mention all the beer-pong rehab I have to do in order to get back into playing shape. Ugh.

So, you should see the pretty designs the doc carved into my shoulder. We should play "connect the scars" during circle some time and see if it looks like a beer label. My guess? PBR

Day 3 of convalescent leave

2008-03-03T08:38:00.004-07:00

And I'm watching "Sunrise Earth International".

This morning, it's the Li River in XingPing, China, where fisherman have trained cormorants (one of my favorite birds) to fish for them. They tie a string around the bird's throat at the base, so that the bird can not swallow the fish whole the way it would naturally. Then they kick it off of their little bamboo raft into the water, the birds catch two or three fish, they pick the bird up by having it stand on the pole they use to propel the boat and they make it "drop" (read: barf) the fish into a little basket.

This is almost as much fun as watching paint dry.

I need a hobby.

By the way, surgery went well. Looking at the pics from the orthoscope, which I really don't have a clue what they are, it looked like things were pretty fucked up in my shoulder. But they gave me this cool thing called "Game Ready". You load the box with ice and water and put on this bladder contraption over the appendage in question (my SHOULDER you perverts!). Then you set it and it pumps icy water through the bladder, and can also add compression. Makes for much less swelling, hence, much less pain. Apparently, this is the pro athlete's alternative to sitting in an ice bath. Sign me up.

Damn, I really do need a hobby, don't I?

Happy Thanksgiving all!

2007-11-22T08:32:00.000-07:00

Family, turkey, pie, beer. Mmmmmmmm ... beer.

Mt. Belford

2007-08-28T05:25:00.000-07:00

Finally got my computer to stop giving me grief!

Wanker pics are here, click the pic above for the serious ones.

FR379

2007-08-05T17:48:00.000-07:00

I've been contemplating selling the Truckie - my 1984 Toyota LandCruiser FJ60. I decided that the best way to advertise this awesome piece of Japanese engineering (NO sarcasm here - this truck ROCKS!!!) was to go get it dirty and take pictures of it in action.

We loaded up our goofy dog (he's talking to us here when we asked his if he wanted to go for a ride) and packed some lunch and headed for the hills.

First, we went up Gold Camp Road and ended up going through Bear Creek Park - some neat views there, none of which we remembered to take pictures of, but it was fun.

Then, we headed into Broadmoor and up Old Stage Road, where I knew there were some good jeep tracks.

It didn't take us long to find some killer trail, and I had Truckie in four and rarin' to go. The first obstacle was some washed out roads - light sand, very loose terrain and kind of a pain - except that I have some very good all-terrain tires and locking hubs, solid axles and four-low. First obstacle? No problem.

Notice the flex, how deep the tires reach and then think about this: this is the STOCK suspension. The clearance and amazing abilities of the LandCruiser frame would prove themselves several times during the drive.

This is amazing. No lift, nothing special. Stock 4x4. This truck will crawl a wall in four-low and not even break a sweat. It's straight-six engine is a dog on the highway - I'll be the first to admit that, but get into a four-wheeling situation, throw it into low and watch out! Torque is where it's at in this kind of situation and Truckie's got it! It handled trail other rigs couldn't, and we even stopped and helped get a Land Rover (cheap wannabe, if you ask me) out of a rough stick.

Here's the whole album - some nice scenery shots in there. This was a really fun afternoon, and all it cost was some fun and 1/4 tank of gas. And I got to embarrass a Land Rover driver with my old-ass Truckie!!!

Non-Techs

2007-07-31T05:31:00.000-07:00

inhabited the tunnels and spaces deep in the bowels of the shining city above their heads. They provided the services robots weren't able to. Sewage techs. Toxic waste disposal specialists. Anything the ruling class of net-addicted "light bulbs" were too busy, distracted or dainty to do, and robots could not due to the hazardous atmospheric conditions. It turned out, as technology progressed, that there were certain things only a human could manage and survive. Go figure.

The Non-techs were not Luds. They were the remains of a society that grew silicon light-tubes into the very fetuses of it's children as they developed -- more often in a lab than in their mother's stomachs. The tubes infiltrated every portion of the infant's brain. There were literally hundreds of thousands of filaments in the brain of every Techie who walked the passageways in the the shining world above.

But here, here were the Nons. Those whose unborn bodies rejected the intrusion. Whose brains were, for whatever reason, unable to connect to the Net, even though the implant of light-tech took. Those who found they could not handle, mentally or emotionally, the nightly flood of information that Mother Net poured into their brains. The rejects. Doomed to the depths of the city. Outcasts, merely afterthoughts in the minds of the Techies above them, a necessary annoyance to Mother. They lived. They had spaces, down there, their own rudimentary self-government, which answered to the Net, schools, children who ran, laughing and playing. And they waited.

They knew the "Heads" were leaving. They knew that the orgiastic spewing of chemical waste into an already destroyed atmosphere would stop once the society was finished hurtling itself into space, searching for other planets to rape. They knew that the meek would, indeed, inherit the Earth, and that they could then begin the process of healing the planet humanity had put so much misdirected effort into destroying. And they would live unmolested, and would learn from the mistakes that Techs had made - mistakes so grave that they had soiled their own nest, and were "forced" to find other planets to colonize.

Jackson knew that it was only a matter of time before the heads were gone and the Nons could move to the upper levels and begin cleaning up the mess society had made of the planet, but that did not stop him from chafing at the way society treated him and his people simply because their bodies could not accept the silicon embrace of Mother Net. Second class citizenship was not his idea of how to live, but he had to admit, it was better than being a non-entity like the Luds. They were living, if you could call it that, outside the walls, in the blasted artifacts of the technological civilization that had both destroyed the planet and enabled escape because they chose to - they and those who had gone before them had rebelled against the technological advances - the had not only refused the infraskulls for themselves and for their children and actually left the enclaves. Left the cities. The only hope for humanity was the cities. Even the Nons knew that. Instead, the Luds chose to crawl through the ruined, blasted surface of the planet, irradiated, foraging for food, stealing what they could, fighting border skirmishes with the Heads over every inch of ground, every piece of scrap likely to be useful for recycling into a tool or a gun.

they scrape just to exist Jackson thought. We live, we work, it's poor, pitiful work, but at least we have something. At least we have a place to lay our heads without being shot at.

Awakening

2007-07-28T13:04:00.000-07:00

Morning was never really Tamar's favorite time. Leaving the wonders of his night time paradise was always difficult, but even here, in the city, readying to travel off-world, he was required to maintain a physical schedule of some sort. He always felt like it would be so much simpler just to stay jacked in - just to keep traveling the byways of the Net, keep "riding the light."

Slowly but surely, Tamar began to surface from last night's vivid network-inspired dreams. Jacking in every night allowed the network to tap unused portions of the brain for processing. On any night, or day for that matter, as there were really no shifts determined by something as ethereal (or generally invisible in all the smog and pollution) as sunlight. Different sections of the populace walked the corridors and streets of the city on different shifts,that was all. So, on any given shift, at least one third of Gaspar City's 12-million residents were jacked in - their fiber optic infraskulls glowing through their scalps, eyes spinning in the depths of REM sleep while Mother Network gave them sweet dreams and used their brains as a kind of living RAM drive. It gave the network virtually limitless processing speed and memory - the only limitation was the speed of light its self.

As his consciousness raised through the layers of awareness the Net guided him through to waking, Tamar began to recall bits of what he'd been dreaming. It was often this way - one of the side-effects of the spending nights in the Net was that the sleeper came away with vivid dreams, often related to the bits of data their synapses has been processing. If one chose, Net could wipe the memories away, but Tamar had always enjoyed knowing - remembering. It gave him a sense that he had control, in some way, of the Net's use of his brain.

Suddenly, he was aware of his surroundings. No more floating, Net had returned physical feeling - he was, for all intents and purposes, awake. Quickly he queried the Network, searching for news of any occurrences during his sleep shift that might delay his launch, scheduled for two weeks from today. All seemed quiet, although there was a report of movement in the ruins about six kilometers from the city. Interesting that anything could survive out there, but the Luds did, and they seemed to be making some kind of organized attempt to rebuild old cities across the blasted face of the planet.

Good luck with that, Tamar thought to himself. This planet is wasted. Even the cockroaches seems to be trying to escape. I'll take my chances on a colonization ship.

Tamar was one of several million applicants set to be blasted off the rock and rubble that was all that remained of Earth, launched into the stars to find habitable worlds elsewhere. With the advent of light drive, journeys took months instead of years, and there were already three New-Earth colonies on habitable worlds in this sector.

Selection for colonization was easy- there were only three requirements: Network-capability (the massive colony ships relied on the brains of their passengers to perform the necessary calculations for Faster-Than-Light drive), genetic clarity going back at least three generations (no congenitals, no mutations - this requirement was a tough one in some regions of the planet. NukeWar ensured a lot of mutations) and the willingness to enlist. All personnel colonizing off-world did so as members of the Earth Force Alliance, the only form of government that survived the NukeWar - military government.

Slipping his uniform jumpsuit on to his light frame, Sergeant Tamar Lucius Dammin decided he'd struggle through one more day of phys-life, if only to return to the Net and its wonders at the end of his duty shift.

He strapped on his flechette gun and body armor, readying himself for yet another tedious shift at the Wall.

It all began in 2007

2007-07-22T06:43:00.001-07:00

when scientists in Germany figured out how to control a living organism using light. Neurobiologists, neuropsychiatrists, scientists, doctors - they all jumped on the bandwagon this amazing breakthrough promised for the future.

They didn't consider other uses, though - at least not back then. They thought grand thoughts and dreamed grandiose dreams of curing Parkinson's and restoring the use of limbs whithered by brain-damaging illnesses such as spina bifida or polio. They thought about how they could "fix" bodies bent and twisted by the whims of an indifferent God; how they, indeed, could become gods in their own right, meting out physical repairs to financially viable customers.

They didn't think about what this new technology implied. What could be done with it. Where it might lead. They did not see what was about to become. And for that, they lost everything; this shining future was ignored because of their arrogance. Instead of a utopia of perfectly healthy bodies strolling across the planet, grooving the greed of the corporate insurance machine, the HMOs and the mega-hospitals, instead of having the chance to have a positive influence on the future of humanity, instead, they opened the lid of Pandora's Box and unleashed something entirely different, and more devastating than the diseases they initially desired to conquer.

Evan reached into his duffel, digging amongst the empty magazines, bits of metal he'd found on his foray into the old part of the city and a few pieces of camo-cloth for the little bundle of jerked rabbit he'd hidden there. There were no feeders around, at least that he could see, and he needed a boost for the next part of his journey.

Perched as he was on the barely standing cornice of a blasted apartment block, Evan had an almost 360-degree view of the sprawling, devastated and crumbling remains of the city. The remains of skyscrapers still clawed their way toward the sky here and there, backlit by the lights of the megalopolis, the wall visible even from here, hundreds of blocks away from where the New City started. Black clouds scudded across the sky, glowing from the lights of the fortress city below, seeming to snag and be caught by the barren branches of the old skyscrapers, their now glassless, spindly trunks winding their way up into the bruised atmosphere.

Evan could see the layers of exhaust gasses from this vantage point - yellow sulfur clouds creeping through the valleys the streets had become, oozing over the hills formed by the slumping hulks of buildings that once populated a thriving city.

No feeders, no lurchers, no gnashers were visible. A break. A respite. A little tiny piece of quiet. For now.

Gnawing on his jerky, Evan wondered again what it was like inside the megalopolis. He stared at its silver facades, bright and steely, with stacks behind the glowing walls belching forth the crud that Evan and his fellow grubs were forced to breathe and call air. Occasionally, an observer could see the trails of launches from further back in the city - shuttles carrying this doomed world's privileged to live in the space stations, or even to go on the great transports which were even now plodding their way toward distant stars.

Go,thought Evan. Leave. Let us, us HUMANS fix the mess you made. We can. We will.

Evan and a few of the youngers like him thought this way. Good riddance to the "Society". Let them blast their way off the Earth. Leave. They'd done enough damage anyway. Leave the Earth to the people, the Remnants who weren't rich enough or subservient enough to make it into the City.

Back in 80916

2007-07-14T20:50:00.000-07:00

And DAMN! It's freakin' 90?!!?!?!

At least, in Alaska, a HOT day is, like, 72 and the trout are biting!

We missed you wankers, but not enough to go Hash with you today. We were on a plane all night - I got 2 hours sleep, the wife got none. Naps were the rule today. We have to go shopping and refill the fridge in the morning (shudder).

Monday

2007-07-10T12:42:00.000-07:00

Even on a cloudy, drizzly day, Alaska is gorgeous. This is near the salmon-slaying spot Dad and I went to Monday to pit our intellects against the wily wild salmon of the North.

Vistas like this were the rule of the day. We had a few thin spots in the clouds, not any real sunshine, but with the canopy on the boat and the salmon biting (occasionally), we were plenty warm.

This little cove was full of coho getting ready to run up the creek beyond this neat little outcropping. We caught two of the four silvers of the day here.

This outcrop was at the mouth of the creek. All the views were amazing. I couldn't take enough pictures to do it justice.

The results of a day of beauty and fun in the Prince William Sound?

Dad and me - 8; Salmon - 0

Four Chinook (our limit), three coho and a sockeye.

The smoker is going RIGHT NOW!!!!!

Friday

2007-07-10T12:27:00.000-07:00

Monkey Boy, nephew and I went canoing through the lake, and were forced to see things like this Grebe on her nest. It was a rough day ...

We portaged to another lake and fished there as well. The boys rowed very well, but it still took four of their strokes to my one, so I had my hands full keeping the boat going in the right direction.

The Monkey Boy set the tone of the day by catching the first fish. Both the nephew and I caught one as well, but this 21 1/4 inch rainbow (about four pounds!!!) is a trout of a lifetime.

He didn't really clean it, though. That task fell to me. You know that a rainbow trout big enough to fillet is BIG.

I read the fising report in the local paper today

2007-06-27T13:54:00.000-07:00

The kings will be in this weekend.

If you're not Alaskan, you're not very familiar with what that means; the kings hitting means that the most awesome game fish on the planet is starting to spawn, and crashes stream beds throughout British Columbia and Alaska. Once upon a time, they did this all through the West coast, including California. Now, the greatest salmon runs in the world are here in Alaska and in Russia.

This also means that I will be killing salmon by Friday!

My aunt called to report that she'd just landed a 40-pounder on the Deshka this morning.

I kinda hate her right now, as I have yet to get a fly wet, but I will be out there fishing in no time!

Home sweet home

2007-06-26T08:41:00.000-07:00

Well, we made it to Anchorage just fine, and I spent my first day back home demolishing a pony wall and re-tiling the end of a counter so that Mom's new refrigerator would fit. Not a bad day's work, if I do say so my self.

I don't think I have a specific project to do today, but I will sick the kids on some weeds in the flower beds.

I got to go for a nice run in the rain yesterday morning. About six miles - the air is THICK here at a whopping 140 ft. of altitude. I kept trying to figure out why I wasn't getting tired.

No fish slaying yet. We head out to the lake house on Wednesday, so I will be able to begin my systematic attack on the trout of Alaska at that point.

Last post?

2007-06-13T20:00:00.000-07:00

It's finally starting to sink in. I mean, the magnitude of it. My family. Gone. My command. Gone. Soldiers. Sailors. Airmen. Marines. The whole base was wiped out. Not only that, but most of the city is burning - a shambles. No police left. No people left. Just zombies.

I made it to a Wal-Mart. Managed to make it back out to my truck after getting myself together in the house. I thought about it; why did I kill that damn dog? I guess I just couldn't take the risk of him turning. After all, my son had obvious ... zombie bites on him. I guess I really couldn't face the thought of the dog turning, too.

So, the weed-eater with the saw-blade on it? Excellent weapon, right up until it burned out. That little 1.5 hp motor just wasn't made for that kind of torque, but it did pretty well. I managed to behead three zombies with it before it crapped out and I had to switch to the machete. I finally made it to the truck by hacking my way through four more. I guess the neighbors were home. Just ... changed.

I threw the truck into 4 right off. I knew there'd be trouble just getting off the base - they locked it down this morning. I crashed a fence and went through a stream-bed to get out, and turned West into town. Wal-Mart means supplies. And maybe other survivors.

I loved that dog.

The Wal-Mart was surrounded. Absolutely surrounded. How all these stinking corpsicles got here is beyond me, but I took it as a sign that there might be other survivors in there. Now I just had to get in.

I decided my best bet was to try to lure the zombies away from the side entrance - you know, the garden one. I could get them to follow me in my truck, maybe mow down a few of them and then pull alongside the fence with the wheel tied off and the truck still in gear. Climb on top and then jump to the fence. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Only problem was, I managed to spear my left arm on the top of the fence. Nearly peeled all the muscle of my forearm away. Good thing there was a pharmacy in here.

I made it over the fence, anyway, blood pouring down my arm and my truck careening off into the parking lot, squashing zombies all the way across it and into a berm. It died once it stopped there - it'll still run if I can make it back out to it. Something I might be able to use later.

I started banging on the door - it was closed, but I could see people moving inside.

I yelled that I was alive and they finally pulled the door back to let me in. There are six of us here now. Two store employees, a Soldier from the Army base down South, a soccer mom who is in a catatonic state, some skate punk kid and me. Soldier helped patch my arm up. Did a pretty good job.

Well, we have food, drugs and ammo. Power's still up, but it's been flickering. I don't know how much longer I can keep communicating. Maybe someone will find my blog and know what went on here, but I don't think there's much of anyone still alive out there.

Later ...

We have voted. We're arming up now, loading a trailer with food and ammo, first aid kits, tents, everything we need. We're going to try to fight our way out, jump in the truck, back up to the entrance and hook up. Then we'll see if we can't make it into the mountains. Soldier has a cabin up at Green Lake. We'll see if we can't set up house there. Fortify. Build zombie traps. Hunt for food. I doubt I'll get to leave any more blogs. If you read this, and are looking for us, we're at mile 56. Just head West into the mountains. Make sure you make noise when you come - talk, whistle, sing, play the radio. We'll aim for the head otherwise.

Damn I miss that dog.

Home

2007-06-13T16:17:00.000-07:00

The fight to get here seriously sucked.

I had a golf club, and I made it to my car with only five or six zombies attacking me. I clobbered the first one good - his brains and other gunk splattered everywhere with a good overhand blow. It smelled like hell, but I grabbed a few handfuls of gray matter and smeared them all over my chest just on the off-chance that their blood-smell would keep me safe.

It worked, sort of.

After the first one, I noticed a small group ambling toward me and started to run. If I hadn't been wearing stupid dress shoes, I would have made it. I blew out the lace on my left shoe and went sprawling. By the time I was back up and found my golf club, the first zombie was there. I just gritted my teeth and started swinging. I really, really have no use for golf, but the clubs work great as weapons. Maybe, once this all blows over, I'll invest in a set.

Made it to the car. No zombies around, but again, I could see a handful in the distance. Good thing the base is so rural.

I decided not to try for the armory. Better off getting home and then raiding a Wal-Mart or something.

The neighborhood was deserted, although most every car was still in the driveway. This is fucking creepy.

I went up to the house quietly, peering into the windows, hoping.

Shit. I opened the door, and no one was here. The damn dog just looked at me funny, sniffed the zombie effluent which I was covered with and went out the back door. I followed him. He was eating what was left of my son. I buried them both after I killed the dog with the golf club. Don't know where my wife and daughter are. I am afraid they were who killed the boy, though. His corpse had bites that were obviously NOT from the dog.

I loved that dog, too.

I found my machete, grabbed a shovel and I added a cutting blade to my little gas-powered weed eater. Decided I better see if I can get some supplies and maybe find some other survivors. I can hear sirens a few miles off - maybe, since this is a base, there are a few hearty souls still making a stand. I can't believe I'm not crying, not freaking out. I just buried my son. My wife and daughter are missing. And I killed my dog.

Fuck.

I really loved that dog.

I'll try to post more if I make it through to somewhere safe. I have my wife's laptop with me now.

This isn't over ...

2007-06-13T13:57:00.000-07:00

The Government is just about gone. That's official. I work at homeland defense headquarters for the military and I am telling you, this is something no one was prepared for.

The guards have abandoned their posts. I am about to try and make a run for home. At least I know I have a machete and a few shovels there. I can fight my way through the throng and get some supplies in town before heading for the mountains and safety (I hope).

The command center is pretty much empty. Someone who had already been bitten made it inside the building. They infected most of the rest of the people in the building and everyone who wasn't infected bailed. I am only here because I had the foresight to lock myself into the office. Phone lines are down, the building is operating on backup power alone and we're lucky that we rely on our own satellite uplink to the Internet or I'd have no communications with the outside world.

I have e-mailed buddies in bases across the U.S. and a few in other countries. This thing is world wide.

I'll try to log back in once I get home and share what I've seen. It's only a few miles from here and it's fairly rural, so, hopefully, there won't be too many zombies around. My sources in Europe say they don't seem to notice you if you're covered in their blood, so I'll try to whack a couple of them with this golf club I found while I'm on my way - should create enough gore to get myself smelly.

Cross your fingers and pray for me!

More from official sources

2007-06-13T11:55:00.000-07:00

Man, I am about ready to get the fuck out of here. The armed guards seem to be letting people sneak out in ones or twos - but only the civilians here at the command. I think I still have a set of civvies in the office somewhere. I gotta get home and check on my family. The phones are down so I don't know how they're doing at all.

I think I have a better chance of surviving this if I can get some guns and get up into the mountains, even though it goes against official advice. Speaking of which, here's the latest from DHS:

Press Office
U.S. Department of Homeland Security
Press Release
June 13, 2007
2:45 PM EST
Contact: DHS Press Office, 2021234567

Officials advise survivors to shelter in place

WASHINGTON, D.C. -- In the aftermath of last night's meteor storm and the viral pandemic which immediately ensued, state, local and federal officials are advising unaffected survivors to shelter in place rather than trying to escape or gather together en mass.

According to Centers for Disease Control officials, those who were not infected by the virus during the shower can now only be infected by being bitten by these walking wounded, which many are labeling "zombies".

You can determine whether a person is a zombie by several key factors, according to CDC:

1) The individual is barely motile, walking with a shuffling, stiff gate
2) Attempts to communicate with the individual draw a mumbling or moaning sound, not words or coherent thought
3) the individual's skin is gray or even bruised looking, and they are visibly beginning to exhibit signs of decay

According to CDC, the zombies are easily avoided individually, but are deadly when encountered in a large crowd. Blockading your doors and staying inside seems to be the most effective defense, and, if necessary, damaging or destroying the zombie's brain is the best way to thwart an attack.

Officials are working closely with law enforcement, the National Guard and the military to create safe-zones in or near major cities in order to rescue and keep survivors safe. If you are able, place a white flag or bed sheet on the top of your home or building in order to signal your survival to rescuers in the area.

30

I just got this release from DHS

2007-06-13T10:19:00.000-07:00

We're in for a lot of trouble, I tell you! Check this out!

Press Office
U.S. Department of Homeland Security
Press Release
June 13, 2007
1:10 PM EST
Contact: DHS Press Office, 2021234567

Responders attacked by inexplicable force

INDIANAPOLIS, Ind. – Local, state, federal and military responders to the bizarre
damages done by last night’s meteor storm are reporting that survivors are acting in a very disturbing fashion.

According to military sources, the survivors are visibly suffering from the strange viral effects of the meteor shower and although barely mobile, are overwhelming relief workers by sheer number.

“They just shamble up and start trying to attack you,” said one Soldier, who asked to
remain nameless.

Even more disturbing are reports that these “walking dead” are attempting to eat the
very people who are trying to help them.

“They mobbed us,” cried a hysterical police officer. “They were biting us. They ripped my partner to pieces. And they ate him!”

Troops are reporting that, in self defense, they have discovered that these zombielike attackers are virtually immune to gun shots.

“The only way to stop them is to shoot them in the head,” confirmed another source.

“As gruesome as that sounds, it’s all we can do,” said one Marine who has seen action
against these attackers.

Officials are fairly closelipped about the incidents, which are increasing in frequency, but witnesses report large mobs of attackers converging on rescue workers and uninjured survivors.

30

This is an unreal emergency!

2007-06-13T09:15:00.000-07:00

The President never came on. In fact, the networks are down. This can only mean that this is bigger than just here.

I went to the Command Center. They said the storm last night wasn't a storm - it was some kind of meteor shower. It apparently blanketed the entire planet. According to CDC, this plague is from the meteors and it is world-wide. They're calling it zombieism. Go figure.

The general just got on the building's address system and said that they're locking down the base and even the building. We can not leave, as only about 1/5 of the command is even here to try and coordinate some kind of search and rescue response. Reports are that most major cities are being overrun with zombies - the people are just turning, and biting anyone who hasn't turned. Apparently, the zombies are eating people whole.

We don't even have an armory in this building. I wonder if my family is ok.

I think I'm going to try to get out - I know they want to keep us here, but what do we do if the people in the building start turning, too? I am going to try to get home, grab the wife and kids and some blunt instruments. Police are reporting that hitting or shooting the zombies in the head is the only way to kill them. We'll try to make it to the base armory. I can at least get my hands on a few pistols and some ammo, then.

This is not good

2007-06-13T06:45:00.000-07:00

I got in to the office with no problem - in fact, I parked
almost right next to the building.  There's hardly anyone
here.  It is bizarre.  This place is usually packed - you
have to part way the hell out in BFE.

Those people who are here are absolutely FREAKING out.
But they won't stop long enough to say why.

One other strange thing.  The Denver radio station I
usually listen to wasn't on the air this morning. 
They're a major market station - 200,000 watts.  I
tried tuning up and down the dial.  All I could find
was an AM station with some raving lunatic yelling
that he was barricading himself inside the station.

The networks are not saying anything, either.  I flipped
to CNN - they said the President was gearing up to make an
important announcement, but they aren't talking about what.

I think I'll go down to the Command Center and see why
everyone is in a tizzy.  This is the United States'
homeland defense headquarters, after all, we can handle
whatever is going on!  Maybe that storm caused more
damage than I thought.  Hmm.  I guess I better get ready
to write some press releases about military response.

Sigh.  Some days, I just don't like the fact that I'm
wearing the uniform.

Big storm last night

2007-06-13T05:14:00.000-07:00

It's weird. It doesn't usually rain like this and that thunderstorm we had last night was one for the record books! It lasted almost seven hours. My son told me he saw green lightning. I told him that it was just his imagination and I sent him back to bed.

I heard sirens in the distance around 2:00 am. Other than that, though, it is kind of strange how quiet it's been this morning. Sirens must have been responding to a lightning strike. Man! That was a hell of a storm.

One good thing? My asshole neighbor who usually fires up his big-block Chevy at 5:15 and wakes up the whole planet must have slept in - the thunder probably kept him awake last night. He didn't try to blow the ears off the birds this morning with his stupid glass packs and Holly four-barrel carb. Mother Nature's good for something.

Hrmm. Well, I have to head off to the office in a few, so I better suck down some more coffee. I'm a freakin' zombie until I get the first two or three cups down my gullet.

Zombiegeddon is tomorrow!

2007-06-12T05:41:00.000-07:00

Are YOU ready? I don't think so!Blog like it's the end of the world

Hell yeah!!!

2007-06-08T16:12:00.000-07:00

81%

Get ready, suckas! Y'all better be sharpening your machetes!

Zombience©

2007-06-08T05:45:00.000-07:00

So, I've been thinking about June 13, Blog Like it's the End of the World Day all night. I have ideas. Boy do I have ideas. I have press release templates. And an unlimited supply of zombified photos. This will be one of the most entertaining afternoons/evenings I have had in a long time.

All you Kimchi wankers should get in on this! Nappy, I know you're down!

OMG!!!!

2007-06-07T20:53:00.000-07:00

June 13th!!!! I AM SOOOOOOOO THERE!!!!!

http://myelvesaredifferent.blogspot.com/2007/05/blog-like-its-end-of-world-bliteotw.html

Who you gonna call?

2007-06-04T14:30:00.000-07:00

Catwoman wants me to update my blog

2007-05-21T14:43:00.000-07:00

So, anyway, we just got finished with a major exercise. What did I learn? The zombie threat is real, people, and what's worse, your police, firemen, aid workers and yes, even the military are NOT PREPARED to deal with a full-scale zombie invasion.

Buy your shotgun now, and keep a machete handy.

Remember, aim for the head.

11-Mile Canyon

2007-03-26T06:29:00.000-07:00

Took the monkeys for a ride up to 11-Mile Canyon yesterday. What a day! It was sunny and ultimately in the 60s, although we all needed jackets at the start of the day.

It had snowed up there Friday and Saturday - we got lots of rain here in the Springs, for which my lawn is extremely grateful. So there was a lot of the white stuff, but the road into the canyon was not in too bad of shape.

First, we went all the way up to the campground at the top of the canyon to hike. We climbed for almost an hour, finding our way onto an amazing rock table overlooking the South Platte river as it flows through 11-Mile Canyon. The sun was shining, there were a few puffy clouds and it was warm enough that we could take off our jackets while we made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and enjoyed.

The goofy dog is afraid of heights, we have discovered. Once we convinced him to come out where we were, he kind of curled up and whined for an hour. Scared of water and scared of heights. What a big fuzzy baby.

After we hiked down, which was a lot of fun, we went fishing! We find a sweet pool full of big trout, I got the boy going with his fly rod and the daughter picked her way upstream to cross and find a big rock to lay on in the sun while us guys fished. We caught bubkiss, but we enjoyed our day.

Finally came down off the mountain around 4:00 and had barbecue for dinner! Yay spring!

Of course, the wife has the camera in Seattle with her. Damn it. Just means we'll have to go back! YAY!

Ugh

2007-01-24T19:13:00.000-07:00

just ugh. I caught a stupid bug and have been miserable all week.

I felt so crappy Sunday I turned down Brownie's offer of a free ticket to see Stanton Moore.

I didn't run Monday, Tuesday at Jack Quinn's or today.

Crap. I am going to run tomorrow, damn it! Maybe I'll work out this stupid cold!

And I'm for starting the Kimchi movie night at Z's Friday - that way we can drink all his beer!!!

Up date on the Mum

2007-01-19T17:21:00.001-07:00

She's completely healed - good enough that she's flying to Florida with Dad for a conference tomorrow morning!

YAY antibiotics.

We're all going to Arctic to get shitty tonight! Who's in?

Washington D.C.

2007-01-16T07:44:00.000-07:00

Well, I never knew it, and although I didn't get to Hash, D.C. is a MAJOR hashing city! Just check out the sculptures from the National Sculpture Garden:

There was even a dancing hare, with a drum - I think the Kimchi needs a Hash Drum for circle, what do you guys think???

But of course, no visit would be complete unless I had the opportunity to see my Hash namesake:

I didn't even get a "thank you".

Next time I go to D.C., I will be sure to go find some wankers to run, er, drink with!!!!

OnOn!

Lick My Lincoln

Merry Christmas!!

2006-12-24T12:38:00.000-07:00

Well, we just got home from our shift at the NORAD Santa Tracking Center. What a blast! There are more than 100 people answering phone calls and e-mails from children all over the world who want to know where Santa is.

If you don't know about NORAD Tracks Santa, click here.

Merry Christmas, and if you're here in Colorado Springs and want someplace to hang out tomorrow afternoon, we're having an open house, bring a plate of finger food or chips or something, we'll have a keg of Arctic Lager!

Update on Mum ...

2006-12-23T12:13:00.000-07:00

I talked with her for 20 minutes today, and I am much relieved. The doctors did not do surgery on her, instead they put in a drain and what amounts to a colostomy bag (yuck) and she has finally begun responding to the antibiotics.

In short, Mom is responding and recovering. The fever is gone, swelling and redness reduced and is looks like she'll be able to enjoy Christmas.

And my sister brought Mom and Dad two new kittens for Christmas. They've been tearing the house up - climbing the tree, unwrapping presents. In a way, as much as I wish that we were there visiting, I am glad we're not.

So, that's what's up now I need to rest some more before the beer mile!

Lots happening in the Guhrilla kingdom

2006-12-22T13:53:00.000-07:00

and forgive me (Catwoman) for not posting more religiously.

Here's the deal: about 2 months ago, my Mother, who lives in Alaska, told me she had to have a lump removed from her breast. It turned out not to be cancerous, which is great.

Monday, she told me she had to go to the emergency room; she has been diagnosed with cellulitis, a serious, potentially fatal bacterial infection.

Wednesday, the infection had doubled in size. The doctors put her on vicodin for the pain and put a port in her arm where they have been injecting major amounts of high-power antibiotics in her blood.

Today, the doctor told her she's got "galloping cellulitis" and they are opening her up surgically to irrigate the infection with antibiotics.

So, if you are religious, please pray for my Mother, Linda. This is a potentially life-threatening infection (but the doctors are NOT using that terminology).

On a much lighter note, please come the the Arctic Brewery's Christmas party tonight! It promises to be a drunk and debauched time for all!

I hate this!

2006-11-16T19:35:00.000-07:00

1) OK, I'll drink for whining.

2) Been stuck in a motel and classes all week - my workout schedule is SHOT. I haven't run since Saturday's Mall Walker's Hash. I am going crazy.

3) Poop.

4) I hear Brownie is gay.

5) Poop. I think I'll go do the Incline again tomorrow or Saturday morning. I gotta do something, damn it! Back in the office next week and I can get my daily runs OnOn.

6) POOP!

The Incline

2006-11-10T12:26:00.000-07:00

Is the most intense, most killer workout I have EVER experienced!

Brownie, thanks for telling me about it. Yer a pussy for not coming. Oh, and WTF with the Barr trail only being 3 miles? You are high. 4 is more like it ...

The coolest thing about the climb, though, was topping out, looking around and realizing how incredibly beautiful my surroundings were! I will definitely hit this trail again!

The Incline ... solo

2006-11-09T22:21:00.000-07:00

I have never even been there, but f***in' Brownie wanked out on me! And he's not even going to happy hour!

1) Brownie, drink for wussing out.

2) I am going to the Incline tomorrow (today? WTF time is it?) FRIDAY at 1030. Any of you hosers want to come get sweaty, e-mail me.

3) poop. Just, f***ing poop.

4) I like beer.

Lick