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Girl Shits Herself At Calgary Stampede

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Girl Shits Herself At Calgary Stampede Video

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Have any of them had access to a judge to ask them what the legal definition of consent is? How many of them are lawyers? And how did the most fundamental human act other than giving birth and dying become so freaking complicated?

Posted by girlwriteswhat at 40 comments: Email This BlogThis! What a loss. I didn't know her personally, but she was an inspiration to me as one of the last of the old, hard-nosed journalists.

Tough, tenacious, bold, unapologetic. If she said it you knew she meant it because so much of what she said rubbed the establishment the wrong way and when they bleated, she'd just say it again.

Her audacity and personal integrity were something to see, let me tell you. I'm at an age 49 where you begin losing a lot of the public figures you look up to.

Actors, musicians, political and cultural icons. Not just public figures, either. As my mom once told me, "you hit a certain age, and suddenly the parties you get invited to are half weddings and half funerals.

She was a quiet, unassuming part of my life. I never felt any kind of fangirl enthusiasm about her. Yet what a gaping hole she's leaving behind, not only for me, but for all of us.

My condolences to her family and loved ones. Posted by girlwriteswhat at 22 comments: Email This BlogThis! Thursday, 7 February On Mercedes Carrera It has come to my attention that an erstwhile prominent figure in the gamergate controversy who I met once in person, and who was a guest on Honey Badger Radio a couple of times back in , has been charged, along with her boyfriend, with sexually abusing a child under the age of ten.

I wholeheartedly despise and condemn the sexual abuse of children, no matter the gender of the child and no matter the gender of the perpetrator s.

If these allegations prove to have veracity, I will wholeheartedly condemn Ms. Carrera for an act that is always a sickening violation of the trust and innocence of a child by an adult who should never cross that line.

I am revolted by these allegations. But that is exactly what they are at this point. And as always, I will reserve judgment until a fair and just process determines that they are more than allegations.

I did this with Brett Kavanaugh. I did this with Jian Ghomeshi. I did this with the Muslim men accused of an organized mass rape attack in Cologne.

I will do the same for Mercedes Carrera. If she did what she's accused of doing, she deserves what's coming to her. But at this point, there is no way for me to know.

The allegations are salacious, revolting and should elicit revulsion in anyone who thinks about them. But we do not yet know if they're true.

Presumption of innocence applies here, just as it applies to Kavanaugh, Ghomeshi and every other person accused of a horrific act. I will watch this case with interest, and reserve judgment until the facts come out.

Posted by girlwriteswhat at 56 comments: Email This BlogThis! Saturday, 22 December Waving Goodbye to Patreon. I will be quitting Patreon.

On the 6th of January, I will be deleting my Patreon account. I am not doing this immediately because I want my patrons to have a certain amount of notice.

Given the revelations produced by Matt Christiansen regarding his conversation with the head of Patreon's "trust and safety" team Jacqueline Hart, I no longer trust Patreon, nor do I feel safe here.

Hart used to work for , I cannot continue lining the pockets of a company whose rules are not universal and which somehow prides themselves on having an "individual" manner of applying them.

In Matt's conversation with Ms. Hart, it was revealed that had Carl Benjamin only grovelled enough, had he only given a "full-throated" apology for his statements, rather than focussing on defending the context and genuine meaning of his words--which even she admitted was calling out racists on their racism--she would have reinstated him.

I'm sorry, but that's not good enough. Particularly since they never actually directly contacted Carl to either put him on notice before his account was deleted, nor afterward to let him know what particular action would get him out of the gulag.

More than this, she implied that Patreon is only complying with the requirements of payment processors and credit card companies. Speaking as someone with unpopular opinions and a salty tongue, who sometimes describes herself as "Chief Executive Misogynist for Patriarchy Inc", I'm not safe here.

I'm also not safe at Subscribestar, since both Paypal and Stripe have indicated they're not going to do business with them.

I hold Subscribestar blameless in this, and I would encourage any American citizen reading this who cares about these issues to contact the Federal Trade Commission regarding a potential violation of anti-trust laws.

It's entirely possible that Ms. It's also possible that Visa and Mastercard are engaging in an illegal "refusal to deal" with companies who give a platform to people whose political opinions or choice of words don't comply with their own.

I have written to Senator Ted Cruz, who used to be director of policy planning at the FTC, to explain the details of the case and ask him to consider applying pressure on his former colleagues to look into the situation.

Section of the CDA gives these platforms blanket immunity regarding what and who they publish and what and who they remove.

There is no existing law that can hold Patreon accountable for what it's done to Carl Benjamin. For now, my Paypal account is functional and people can support me through that either through a monthly payment or a one-time donation.

The link is on my YouTube channel, and I will let everyone know immediately should that change. Anyone in Canada can support me via Interac email money transfer to the address girlwriteswhat gmail.

And as soon as a viable alternative platform is available I'll be on there like a monkey on a cupcake and will shout it from the rooftops. For now, I hope everyone is able to have a wonderful holiday season despite all the upheaval and uncertainty.

Take joy in the little things, like the sound of two dogs gnawing meaty prime rib bones instead of each other. And I'll see you all when and where I see you.

Hugs to everyone over the holidays,. Posted by girlwriteswhat at 24 comments: Email This BlogThis! Sunday, 7 October To the Weinsteins and Dr.

Today, he said something in response to Eric and Bret Weinstein, that I vehemently disagree with, so I'm going to say so, and I'm going to try to explain why.

What divides these folks is which way to break the symmetry. But honest people see deep reasons that both outcomes are not healthy or workable.

If confirmed Kavanaugh should step down. That might decrease residual alienation from the left, and make things less polarized moving forward.

Of course, that has to be balanced against handing any victory to the "believe all accusers" crowd. I was thinking all this whole trying to plot out a strategy that would be least damaging, on the whole.

And I'm not jumping up and down claiming to be correct. Thought is experiment, not reality. I don't know how closely any of them have been watching Kavanaugh's confirmation process, or whether they're getting their information from primary the hearings and his judicial opinions or secondary the media sources.

I'm guessing that none of these gentlemen have the kind of time on their hands to have watched the hours and hours of live testimony after Dr.

Ford's allegation was leaked, or to go back and watch a bunch of the earlier testimony, or to investigate some of the more egregious things that have been brought out in the open that have occurred since the nominee was chosen.

Call me crazy, but I find the nuances of the law to be very interesting. I had a lot of time to sit and watch and be engrossed and amazed and appalled and intrigued.

I even, a week ago or so, went and looked at the votes-by-party summaries for Supreme Court Justices from Scalia onward.

What is revealed there is a clear trend away from bipartisan unity and toward partisan antagonism. The politicization of Supreme court nominations has been 30 years in the works.

Scalia—perhaps the most conservative Justice in recent memory, and the most hated by the left due to his strict adherence to the text of the law and the original intent of the Constitution—was confirmed with 98 votes in favor and 2 abstentions.

Kennedy got 97 votes and 3 abstentions, and the vote was 50 Democrats and 47 Republicans in favor despite the fact that Reagan nominated him. Clarence Thomas was the first anomaly, but even he got 11 Democrat votes, allowing him to squeak in despite the Democrats holding a majority in the Senate at that time.

And while there was a return to unity afterwards, with Ginsburg and Breyer, both appointed by Bill Clinton, things started to become more distinctly partisan from that point on.

And now here we are. This time around, however, only one of these three dissidents was prepared to break ranks with the party.

There is nothing in this man's judicial record that should scare anyone. According to Senator Collins, nothing could be further from the truth.

Kavanaugh appears to be a true conservative, in that he will prioritize adherence to the law, the constitution and precedent over using his position to push for sweeping changes in the absence of extraordinary circumstances, whether in a forward-looking direction or a backward-looking one, and regardless of his personal or political opinions.

This includes Roe v Wade, which has been reaffirmed by SCOTUS more than once since it set precedent, decisions which add weight to the initial precedent and on which Kavanaugh has commented positively.

When Collins spoke to him about the right to choose, his response was that it is a case of precedent on precedent on precedent, each affirmation bolstering the original, and the passage of time cementing it in place such that one would need extraordinary justification to overturn its underpinning principles.

That's what a genuine conservative is. A keeper of things as they are, based on tradition, precedent, and durability over time. For a Republican appointee who is also Catholic, the Democrats couldn't ask for much better than Kavanaugh, particularly when it comes to women's reproductive rights.

His entire record speaks of a man who thinks, "it's best to keep things as they are, unless there's a VERY compelling reason to change that.

As Senator Collins mentioned in her speech, special interest groups scrambled to be the first to publicly register their objection to Kavanaugh.

One organization put out a press release saying as much, a document we know was written in advance of the announcement, because some PR staffer had embarrassingly forgotten to replace "XX" with Kavanaugh's name I actually read that press release when it came out, and had a good chuckle.

I'm not chuckling so much now. One Democrat senator, she added, vehemently stated his objection to the nominee after the announcement that a decision had been reached, but before the actual name of the nominee was known.

This was never about Kavanaugh. It's not even a shining MeToo moment of solidarity with a survivor. Ford was sexually assaulted by Kavanaugh, just as I know there are people who believe Kavanaugh is innocent of the charges.

To them, I say, you are making a claim to know what you cannot know. But one thing we DO know--Dr. Ford asked that her allegation be kept confidential.

We know that the allegation could have been investigated by the FBI and Dr. We know that the allegation was in the hands of Senator Feinstein the ranking Democrat on the committee for more than forty days before it leaked, and that Feinstein could have taken advantage of the above measures during the initial hearing and thereby protected Dr.

None of this was done. Instead, the hearing was closed after 32 hours of testimony from Kavanaugh, and more questions put to him, and more handing over of documents by him, than the last five Supreme Court Justices combined.

Everything about his career was scrutinized with a scanning electron microscope, and he came out looking like a boring boy scout.

And then the allegation leaked. Ford, and Dr. So who leaked it? Because the leak of that letter took the process of confirmation from the cynically partisan joke it had already become, all the way to a three ring, MeToo, virtue signalling circus.

Bret Weinstein said both possible outcomes of the vote would be "completely unacceptable". I disagree. There's nothing objectionable about Kavanaugh's judicial record.

The "thoughtful" people he's spoken to don't understand what's really at stake here. Jordan Peterson responded that he thought, if confirmed Kavanaugh should step down.

That is, make the big public sacrifice for the sake of fostering unity in an increasingly polarized nation. I understand why a progressive like Bret Weinstein would think Kavanaugh is a poor choice for the Supreme Court.

He's not. According to the Democrats, Trump has the reverse Midas touch—everything he puts his hands on turns to shit, triggering moral disgust and the urge to purge.

If Trump likes something, the Democrats are morally obligated to hate it. If Trump does something positive like, I don't know, getting North Korea to chill out a bit , the Democrats are obligated to predict the end of the world.

That it is not beholden to the law in all its forms, from the Constitution to statute to precedent , but rather that it is a forum for partisan activism on the part of the Justices at the political whim of the president, or the majority in congress, or both.

Brett Kavanaugh strikes me as a judge who eschews activism. Who eschews "big" decisions that take us forward or backward by leaps rather than increments.

But again, this isn't about Kavanaugh. It's about sticking it to Trump. And I have no idea whether JBP realizes that it wouldn't matter who Trump named as a nominee--the reaction from the Democrats, their media lapdogs and the pussy hat-wearing, mass-produced placard-waving, Ashley Judd-worshipping, MeTooing leisure class of well-heeled feminist do-gooders and progressive Hollywood moral busybodies would have been the same no matter who the nominee was.

Just look at the media over the last few days. When it looked like Dr. OMG, one time in college at a bar, Brett Kavanaugh threw ice cubes at a guy during a heated disagreement.

Never mind that the ONLY aspect of his judicial record—you know, the record that matters—that the Democrats don't like is his distinct lack of impulsivity.

Surely this conclusion—that nothing whatsoever was going to convince the Democrats to accept ANY nominee put forward by Trump—is supported by the two examples given by Senator Collins.

Surely it's further demonstrated by declarations on the part of the Democrat members of the committee that they would vote no on Kavanaugh long before they had even held the first hearing.

It would essentially turn SCOTUS from an independent and apolitical body that provides a necessary check against the potential excesses of the other two branches, into an exercise in partisan rubber stamping, with the bench politically subordinate and subservient to whatever party holds the majority.

A petition to impeach Kavanaugh has already garnered over , signatures, all from people who have not one clue what would be destroyed in the process.

In a perfect world full of perfect people, sure. He should know better. All of these things are there to put obstacles and barriers in front of the chimpanzee that exists in every single one of us.

The right will see it as either a noble sacrifice or a betrayal. That those interested in corrupting that process to their own ends are on the left is immaterial.

Whether you believe Dr. Ford is a victim of sexual assault, or Justice Kavanaugh the victim of a wrongful accusation, is immaterial.

The real victim if he steps down will be the integrity of both the process and of the highest court in America.

A system designed to depoliticize at least one branch of the federal government, keep it beholden only to the law, and protect it from the vagaries of the partisan mob.

This is not about the presumption of innocence. Kavanaugh willingly subjected himself to an invasive process that sets aside that presumption. Seven times now.

Because of the enormity of the authority he will wield and has wielded in the past. That is a necessary part of the vetting process if you want to do the type of work that involves the complete trust of the public.

The process found NOTHING on his record as a judge suggesting he would abuse that authority or violate that trust and through the commission of his service bring the Supreme Court of the United States into disrepute.

The process found nothing, despite the fact that even before Dr. And he has. The Democrats have abused this process for political ends, cynically sacrificing Dr.

And this petition to impeach? Just this moment, my son all of 16 years old said, "why not just impeach everyone then?

Because that would be stupid and dangerous and would throw everything we value away. He added, "Meh, no more Supreme Court. Might as well not exist.

Just impeach everyone. The mob knows best. This entire process has been turned into a joke. Posted by girlwriteswhat at 45 comments: Email This BlogThis!

Thursday, 16 August My verdict of the verdict, and judging the judgment. For those of you who were impatient for this to happen, I can only say we were waiting on the written decision.

Why wait for the transcript? No one but the court itself is allowed to video or audio record anything that goes on inside the courtroom.

They create transcripts based on their recording, and do not make the recordings themselves available. I balked at going from memory.

No need to get into that. Quotes from the decision are in bold, my commentary follows in normal font. The plaintiff had full knowledge of what she was signing and what she was signing up for.

I can look in the mirror and say yes; I would hang out with myself if we ever met. I will always, wake up each morning, put my feet on the floor and take one step forward.

Life is so incredibly beautiful if you take a moment each day to look around. It is also too short to think otherwise.

Move forward, every single day, breathe and know what will be, will be. Over the next month, I met with doctors, health professionals, and people from work.

Every person I met I felt as though I was saying goodbye. I hugged, I smiled, I behaved as though nothing was wrong. Then once alone I would cry.

My girlfriend was amazing! We did get the very best doctor there was for this procedure due to her efforts.

We were told we had a very favorable outcome according to those in the know. After one appointment in particular it was explained that I had the arteries of a 20 year old!

All positive things! With my son Cody as the executor and my three best friends all holding certain positions within, I knew the children, ranch and animals were well cared for.

Signing it, having it notarized, watching friends sign it, was incredibly sobering. At my angiogram the nurse and I were talking and he asked what I would like to listen too as I drifted off to sleep.

I responded, can we play some Van Halen please? As I rolled into the room Sammy was screaming on the overhead speakers. That gentle, gracious kindness to a scared 52 year old man I will never forget.

My eyes are wet thinking about how much the gentlemen from that room calmed me down, and let me drift off on my own terms.

I am forever grateful. When I asked why? She simply stated, because you have more than earned them! The reality; it was something else to look forward too.

To think about living for beyond the operation date. Something other than worrying about my family, my children, my very small circle of friends, all for whom I have no desire to leave.

It was a new tomorrow, sunlight at the end of the tunnel, an umbrella from the rain. She was shielding me while providing mental warmth.

She would look me in the eye and say, I expect the same from you. You are not going anywhere, this all will be fine, you have the best surgeon, you are in great shape and healthy.

This will all be over soon and you will be back to being you. I chose during this time to silence myself from social media, and from this blog.

To keep this procedure to myself. Some would actually some did say it was selfish, I should have asked for help from those who cared. If the operation went south, if they failed to save my valve or botched the aorta transplant, to me nothing would have been more beautiful than to simply draw myself into darkness.

Fade to black. No one needed to know. I had done things right for once, the kids were to be well taken care of, and my friends are my friends because they would understand.

The only things that bothered me most was the loneliness the kids would have for eternity because they had lost so much!

Between losing both their moms and now their dad; what a fucking mental train wreck for all of them. Speaking of mental train wrecks!

I ended up telling the kids after my first appointment with the cardiologist. Jake and Cody both were home and I asked them all to please sit down on the couch for a family meeting.

The looks on their faces, my god I will never forget the looks on their faces. It took a while for it all to settle in and when it did, there were a few questions.

I did my best to answer everything honestly. It was so very hard to look them in the eye. I was ashamed I could not be their strength any longer.

I am their father, dad, and the foundation for this family yet here I am, just as vulnerable as both their moms.

Not the man they thought or I believed they knew me to be. Sure we were a fairly new couple, but simply put; I knew that pain all too well.

What if they had lived a full life? What would they or we have become? Questions that would never be answered. A whole month, from diagnosis to operation.

One trip to the ER because of some strange chest pains in the middle. A whole, long messy, shitty, emotional month. I was scared to move, to breathe, to cough, to lift, to ride my horse, to sit on my motorcycle, I was terrified of every single ache and pain that moved through my chest, I was afraid to live, in reality I was mentally living to die.

My entire mindset was just that, counting down the days until surgery, counting down the days until I die, counting down the seconds until I said my final goodbye.

Clean as a whistle we head out for one last meal. We laugh, we joke, and we have a very good time. Heading home the rest of the evening is spent with kids, family.

I still feel like I am saying goodbye. Like a death row inmate having the proverbial last meal. I had developed a pretty significant cough that week and unfortunately it kept rearing its ugly head.

I knew right, deep down inside there was a problem. But yeah, there was a problem. The better part of this year I worked out like a mad man.

Starting in January with eating right, and swapping to a mostly vegetarian diet. Then running, stairs and eventually weights.

This lifestyle change had in fact worked wonders! Not without struggle though, it was hard, taxing, and I was always dizzy or nauseous after each workout; but for real, I was quite literally in the very best shape of my life!

Down three pant sizes, lots of muscle and very, little fat! One side effect to the effort though was these uncontrollable muscle spasms or shaking after each workout.

A little scary at times but I simply chalked it up to effort. In the end, I felt great!!! Upon returning to the station the On-Duty Captain was notified as the pain was intensifying and my range of motion became more limited.

For the record; I hate putting in paperwork! I hate looking broken or weak! This is nothing but a strain, nothing but a simple, every day strain associated with physical work.

I climbed into one of our utility vehicles, started the motor…. Right glenoid tear, cracked ball, strained muscles.

Soooo the much hated workers compensation game began. Playing by the rules, I began visiting the workers comp doc on a regular basis; who I end up really liking by the way?

I began moping around the house, feeling all sorry for myself. A few weeks go by and my cough is so bad that I am soaking the sheets in sweat at night.

Ok, so maybe I should put the bullshit aside and go, but I am not going too. Because I am a stubborn, know it all, self-centered man who obviously knows more than anyone else!

But it is the truth. Finally after much coercion I agree to make an appointment with my general practitioner. I agreed to it, but never said when!

Yeah that went over real well with her too. One morning all my excuses and bullshit came to an end. I awoke that morning drenched as if I had taken a dip in the hot tub and rolled right back into bed, then for fun had a kid throw a bucket of water on me to seal the deal.

My coughing had gone on all night without a break. Through searing painful heat ray lasers shooting from her eyes, I glanced up, her arms were crossed and I knew that was the wrong answer.

She worked on an ambulance before that and is no slouch when it comes to patient care. She was no longer looking at someone she cared for feeling a little ill.

She had given me all the leeway she was going to give hoping my 25 years in emergency medicine would wake something up inside me where I might say; hey stupid!

You probably should go to the doctor! Rightfully so. I was told with stern love and kindness to get off my ass and go to the ER.

I tried to pawn it off and it was reiterated that I needed, right now, to get off my fucking ass and go to the ER! If I did not do so by the time she got off work, she was going to beat my ass not hard to do in the state I was in load me in the car herself and take me to her facility!

Yeah the red headed inner Irish devil child had come out! In retrospect it was kinda sexy…. Being a man who had successfully navigated two previous marriages I knew instantaneously when to fold my cards, push my chair back, stand up and walk from the table.

I told her, no I promised her over the phone I was headed to the ER. I always keep my promises. Parking the car I slowly walked by the front glass doors of the ER.

Peering in like a kid trying to catch a glimpse of Santa Claus without being caught, before me lay an empty waiting room. Intent would have been met and no one would be the wiser.

But there I stood, staring at an empty ER waiting room. It was a sign. I was sick, real sick and for the first time over the last several weeks, through all my excuses, becoming a little worried.

They ER staff took me immediately, chest x-rays done and a breathing treatment started it was fairly obvious I was battling a solid case of pneumonia.

Heart rate up, jitters from the albuterol, I was finally starting to catch my breath when the doctor came back to have a word with me.

Doc: Hey James, so we were right, you have pneumonia. We will be sending you home with some medication to treat it along with doses of albuterol, but there is something else.

We spotted a dark shadow over your heart so you are being sent to CT for a better picture. Is that ok with you?

We both chuckle and off to CT I go. For those who do not know what a T. A is, it stands for Thoracic Aortic Aneurysm. In a nut shell, the garden hose that feeds my heart is ballooning and ready to pop.

Nothing anyone can do. You know what I do for a living! I promptly begin freaking out! He says; James because of what you do for a living, I told you that way.

I know you know what it is and what needs to be done. He calms me down, gives me all the specifics and reminds me that in fact I am the luckiest person in the building.

They caught something that has no known signs or symptoms. In the medical world it is known as the silent killer. I walk out to the parking lot in shock.

The sun seems brighter, the air smells different. Holding it together, head held high, I make it to the truck. To that date, longest slowest walk of my life.

A lot. As soon as she is able to process what I have just told her, she clears it with her team and runs outside to call me.

They died. Even the few I went on that were post operation, yeah……they died. What the fuck! What the holy fuck! I feel fucking cursed! So god damned fucking cursed!!!!

Fuck you , fuck you God, fuck everything! She tells me we will find the very best doctor for this procedure, acquire him and everything will be fine.

She reminds me that there is no way I have survived everything life has thrown at me without surviving this too. Calm down, breathe it will all be ok.

She has a way about her. She is also a thorough planner and I know the planning is about to begin. Someone is going to be taking care of me, something that never, ever happens.

She says she is all in. I learn I am a lucky man once again. Hanging up the phone, I proceed to spend the next hour calling my three very best friends.

The three men in my life I would gladly give my life for in return. I tell them the news, give them all the prognosis and each one of them find a way to make me laugh.

You know why? They have your back no matter what and you have theirs. We will be that way until we die.

I place the truck in reverse and start my way out of the Kaiser parking lot. Fuck me. What I am going to tell them?

The pain is real, I am scared of the reality I am about to face. Little do I know just how scary things are about to get…. Iam pondering the last days.

Pondering what my life is supposed to bewithout her here, wondering where she is and how she is doing, but most of all. I miss having her hand to hold when we fly.

She always heldmy hand during takeoff and landings. Silly really to think two grown people whohave traveled together for as long as we did would still need that reassurance.

But we did, and I really do. That a personwho carries the ability to calmly walk towards disaster is so fearful of a hurtlingtin can in the sky filled with other similar people he needs simplereassurance!

You see eversince I was a little kid while others would recite the horror of classic childhooddreams where they fell, never hitting the ground, or standing naked in front oftheir classmates as everyone laughs or being submerged in water never quitegetting to the top for a desperate gasp of air.

I dreamed about falling fromthe sky in a plane, corkscrewing nose first in a ball of fire and darkness. Even now as an adult those dreams still haunt me on occasion.

It is why for mycomfort I always held her hand. She understood and without fail always reachedfor my hand the minute we were cleared for take-off.

She also had a way ofmaking it feel like I was the one comforting her not the other way around. Letting me play the protector.

I can never repay her for that except in memorywith a smile. I went to Phoenix Arizona for Barrett-Jacksons annualauction of high end automobiles.

It is something I have wanted to do for manyyears. One of my very closest friends in the whole world lives near Phoenix andoffered to put me up for the week!

It was time. Time to get away from the kids, away from theranch, away from my life. There has been plenty of time to reflect,to grow, to move past a need for seclusion.

Therefore it is time. As I fly homeI am hoping this test was a complete success. The kids being without me andall. It will help ease my mind on Thursday as I walk through the doors ofStation 81, knowing they can handle it without dad always being therephysically.

But I know deep inside my heart will be at home and those 72 hoursare going to hurt like hell while they drag on slowly.

On the flip side of things I have been sticking to my post-Christmasresolution of not complaining about Jacy being gone.

By the way for reference the previousparagraphs were not complaining they were simply observations! No complaining, no whining and moaning the minute somethinghappens knowing that if Jacy were here things would be different.

No sir! Myresolve has been strong in keeping my promise to get up every day with a smile,put both feet on the floor, be thankful I am alive and surrounded by suchwonderful people and a loving family.

I go out when I can to socialize and havesurrounded myself with a few very close caring people who allow me to just beme with no expectations what so ever.

I am able to talk or text them anytimeabout anything, or do nothing at all, no judgement, and that is worth itsweight in gold.

Being a planner looking towards the future is always on mymind. It is just who I am. I may need to changesome things about the way I choose to live my life, push some boundaries, takesome risks, all things I have never been good at doing simply to help break myplanner addiction.

Either way it seems to me the only thing I can plan is thatJames Betty is going to find out who he is regardless of what the futureholds.

I hope I like who he becomes whether I spread my wings or stay exactly thesame, because the decisions, the inner growth, the choices and experiences willall be mine.

The thought of that is kind of cool. I know what my wife would have wanted and that helps mewhenever I need to make these decisions.

She was my best friend after all. Sheknew me better than I knew myself and that is something I will never take forgranted.

So at 30, feet, mph, I watch the clouds go by out mywindow, I think this is as close as I can get to heaven for now. Maybe she really is sitting here with me holding my hand,letting me know I am doing just fine and everything will be alright.

The sun has risen, the sun has set, over and over and over again. For 4. Under its warmth or hidden in the shadows of the earths darkness lies the stories of roughly billion people.

My story is no different from millions of others, I loved then lost, then loved and lost again. My heart aches as did the hearts of somany others.

We all shared or carry the darkness that comes with such grief. I am not special, I am not different; I simply am. Why do I feel so much pain and anger inside?

Why can I not understand this outcome, accept this outcome, and realize that no amount of anything is going to change this outcome; bringing her back?

Why do the people I love die? Why have they died for so many before me and continue to perish all around us or so it seems. She Jacy always knew she would die young.

She always knew. It is unconscionable to me, so how does that affect your life, your meaning of life, your belief system? Every day I do what I have always done for my whole life, I am not happy about it, some days go better than others, but during my childhood I was never good enough, at anything and was reminded of that fact regularly; yet I still do the same thing I taught myself early on, over and over again.

The pain will always be there, the loss is very real, I absolutely hate walking into my house, her house, the house we built together, for there is no warm echo of her voice, only cold walls and pictures to remind me of what was, and what never will be again.

I believe you need to keep moving to lessen the impact. So keep moving, keep your head up and keep striving for that next big finish line, covering ground, climbing not sinking further into a hole of despair.

It took me two hours to clean it out. We purchased it new in to support the adoption of our daughter. It was a part of our family as silly as that may sound.

But at , miles, a computer that was bleeding off power, one power door that no longer worked and another that only opened manually, a front transaxle that needed replacement and an owner who was no longer alive, unable to ever drive it again, I felt that maybe it had to go.

Cleaning it out, I discovered Jacy had surrounded herself with the most precious of commodities; pictures. She had pictures from all years ofevery one of her children hidden in easily accessible places.

They were everywhere and it made me cry. She loved them all, so very much to the very end. To the very bitter end…. But I cleaned it out, with tears in my eyes, a wet sleeve from drying my eyes and patience for what she left behind.

When I left the car at the dealership I took one last picture. It is nice, it has 60, miles on it, I will be paying for it for five years, and it will start anew chapter in our lives for child transportation.

We celebrated Christmas. We did this by going to mass on Christmas Eve. It was the first time I had been to our church since she died.

It was one of her favorite places. We gathered and prayed, we sang and prayed and I prayed she was there with me.

I kept my eyes closed so tightly and tried sovery hard to feel her presence, to hear her voice when we sang, I wanted so badly to know she was with us, to feel her hand slide gently into mine.

I tried so very hard, so very hard it hurt. I kept it together, we took a family picture by the tree. We as a family went todinner after then home.

I was sad, angry and devastated. We gathered in the morning. Cody made a splendid breakfast and gifts were exchanged. All the goofy gifts she would order online for each of us.

Well thought out with some form of funny undertone. There was a giant hole in the morning festivities, and after allwas said and done I found myself alone for the afternoon cooking dinner for just us.

It was lonely and sad and well, strange. I closed my eyes and prayed for her to talk to me, I waited, I tired and nothing happened. The house was cold inside and to me there was no warmth of Christmas.

It was warm, it was festivious and it was filled with love. Everyone was happy and had a good time. I see her everywhere there, and her step mom does too.

It is not easy. I walked out to the cabin where Jacy stayed when she needed to be close to Stanford. Just a short 24 months ago she would have been laying there, happy to see me, smile on her face and love in her heart.

It is sovery hard to find inspiration. Not for Jacy or because it is what she would want me to do. But because this is who I am.

It is who I have always been. My only goal in life is to aspire to inspire. I feel many days I am failing miserably as a father, a son, a friend, a mentor, a rancher, a fireman, and well pretty much at life.

At one point I contemplated selling it all, just to remove some of the strains and pressures associated with being the caregiver to an terminally ailing spouse.

But then a moment came where I was reminded of something my father taught me in his oh so confrontational way. God rest his soul..

I could feel him looking me dead in the eye and yelling yes, he could only communicate in two ways- yelling and laughing Son god damn it!

And remember you can lay there and cry about it or get off your ass and do something. Well I got off my ass. I asked for help and it was received, I got the rig together and quit pacifying the kids, forcing them out into the barn an area I have been neglecting because of the wife and injury to myself I got them back on their horses and practicing, hard.

As we pulled out heading to the first rodeo of the year I was nervous for them, all of them. Because as I was so reminded this weekend.

WE are one BIG family. There is no other sport in the world like rodeo. The National Anthem plays and silence falls over thousands in an instant, kids loping their horses stop, remove hats and hang heads.

Parents greet everyone with a good morning and a smile, whether you know one another or not, and all of us, kids, competitors, parents and visitors cheer each other on with words of encouragement, excitement and amazement at what each and everyone of these athletes horses, kids and adults can do.

We all start the day with an Amen. This last weekend inspired me to re-post something I wrote two years ago. It came from my heart, it came from years of failure, try and grit.

It came from watching kids over and over again works their asses off, fail and come out of the arena with a smile. It came from failing and having my own children remind me of the many pearls of wisdom I had bestowed on them over the years.

After reading it again today, I pray this is my legacy. If we can keep this attitude and drive moving forward years after we are gone, regardless of what society deems or pushes upon us, then we as parents have succeeded.

It was based on the skills required of the working vaqueros and later, cowboys , in what today is the western United States, western Canada, and northern Mexico.

Today it is a sporting event that involves horses and other livestock , designed to test the skill and speed of the cowboys and cowgirls.

American style professional rodeos generally comprise the following events: tie-down roping , team roping , steer wrestling , saddle bronc riding , bareback bronc riding , bull riding and barrel racing.

The events are divided into two basic categories: the rough stock events and the timed events. Depending on sanctioning organization and region, other events such as breakaway roping , goat tying , or pole bending may also be a part of some rodeos.

Many rodeo events were based on the tasks required by cattle ranching. The working cowboy developed skills to fit the needs of the terrain and climate of the American west, and there were many regional variations.

The skills required to manage cattle and horses date back to the Spanish traditions of the vaquero. Early rodeo-like affairs of the s and s were informal events in the western United States and northern Mexico with cowboys and vaqueros testing their work skills against one another.

Rodeo-type events also became popular for a time in the big cities of the Eastern United States, with large venues such as Madison Square Garden playing a part in popularizing them for new crowds.

There was no standardization of events for a rodeo competition until , when associations began forming. In the s, rodeo saw unprecedented growth. These contestants were young, often from an urban background, and chose rodeo for its athletic rewards.

By , one third of PRCA members had a college education and one half of the competitors had never worked on a cattle ranch.

Many other professional rodeos are held outside, under the same conditions of heat, cold, dust or mud as were the original events.

I have always preached being grateful as an adult and I believe that comes from a tempered or aged wisdom which allows adults to see what the youthful eye cannot.

For when we are young it is very easy to become self-centered; forgetting the where, why and how of it all. Believing there is only one person in the universe that matters and that person is yourself.

Parents often times inadvertently help with this self-absorption. Creating often times a very self-centered child by constantly praising their failures, awarding them for mediocre performances while never allowing them to work hard after recovering from the sting of defeat.

These parents will purchase the newest greatest next horse at the drop of a hat without any consideration the horse may not be the problem, but the child themselves.

Hence the ungratefulness and emotional meltdowns ensue. I will constantly tell a child to smile while leaving the arena, no matter the outcome!

A simple reminder that this run you made was the luckiest thing you could have done today! Who else gets to do these amazing things on horseback in front of a cheering crowd?

Who else but you and your closest friends? You have already beaten the odds by even being here! Smile big! Just remain grateful and keep working hard.

I tell my children no matter how you did, get up, knock the dust off and smile! People always remember the kid who gave it their all with a smile on their face!

You can be mad at yourself, mad at the run, hell even mad at your horse because yes, even though I also always preach look at yourself first before being angry at the horse, horses have bad days too!

But wait until you are out of the arena, away from everyone else before you let any evil out of the jar!!

Take a few minutes, compose yourself and remember you participated and did something most people only dream about.

Hell most parents envy you a little because we can no longer compete! One day coming out of the cutting pen my son reminded me of just how important my own words had become by throwing them right back into my face.

I had worked hard during the winter on getting my horse just right. I strolled slowly into the herd as confident as I had ever been.

I knew what cattle I wanted, my horse was supple and relaxed, Hell as far as I was concerned they should have already written the check out to me!

After pulling my first cow out for a clean cut, I dropped my hand, sat back, turned out my toes and completely relaxed. This was going to be a kick ass run.

In the end it was an; I got my ass kicked run. Nothing and I mean nothing went right after the second or third jump and I ended up schooling my mare.

Instead of winning the round, I walked out with a zero. As I passed through the gate, angry as hell, dejected and wanting to punch something I am a little competitive my son said; Great job dad!

Who else gets to go out and do what you just did! My son Jake, teaching the father. I smiled because I was in fact grateful.

Grateful God had placed him there to remind me which made me grateful for the opportunity to try. There you have it! How I feel our children should approach this great American sport.

I know my children hear this all the time. It starts from the minute I remind them to remove their hats during the national anthem and continues until the moment they are asleep in the truck during our long ride home.

Our children should dream big! Shoot for the stars! But at the end of the day where ever they end up, these days here at rodeo with friends will be some of the best, most memorable days of their lives.

Why not help by building a solid foundation that will lead them out into this world with a grateful attitude, a love for the sport win or lose and god in their back pocket?

It can only bring them success in life. Nope, nope, nope that still paints to broad a stroke. The future of our youth and the direction our country may or may not be headed towards with them at the helm?

Not usually my style to lack on words or the ability to use them. Now before all you youngsters either hate me, understand me or feel the need for a safe space to sort out your feelings please understand nothing has changed over time when it comes to what I am about to tout.

Only the players and the landscape for which they played the game. Life is cyclical and my hope is we are on the precipice of change. You old timers such as myself I hope will get this instantly!

The other day while driving through town I found myself yelling at another vehicle from the helm of my galactic beast! After 37 years driving semi-trucks, pickups, cars and oh yeah Fire Engines, with all that experience I think I have earned the right for a holler or two!

I love driving, always have since the day I took the family tractor for a joy ride. Even with all that, I really only have a few pet peeves when it comes to the rules of the road and it drives me insane when I see others breaking them.

I hate going slow, I loathe going slow, I mean I really detest moving at the speed of stuck! But with that being said and placed so effortlessly on the table let me ensure you the minute I cross into any city limits I am Johnny law jr.

Yup I am that guy. Living law in the grey…. So where was I, oh yes, the other day a certain individual in a newer blue mustang rolled hard up on the stop sign, and at no point even attempted to bring his horsepower pony to a full and complete stop!

Rolling right through as if the big red sign that said STOP on it was merely a suggestion, this idiot completed the perfect, textbook California Stop!

Of course he glared at me as though it was some form of inconvenience that I was waiting my turn, being on the right of another vehicle per the law.

Yet in truth I believe the glare was more of a fuck you. He knew he was more important than I, he knew he was more important with more important places to be than any other person so carelessly sharing the asphalt with this asshole and he knew he was an asshole and just wanted make sure I and everyone else knew he was an asshole.

Secretly I just like saying asshole. Staring at this hellish, lame blue piece of shit for which the owner obviously cherished more than his wife or significant other, with its mirror like shine, extra loud pipes and fancy wheels a question flashed through my head!

You acted respectfully to those who represented authority and from that respect you earned it in return. A very simple, easy to understand logic that ruled our little place in the world.

Ahhhh Mike Brady would have been proud. Look him up young ones. That is where you roll up to the stop sign, then proceed without coming to a full and complete stop.

It is against the law son. It is named after us Californians because we supposedly are self-important and have places to be which keep us from obeying the law because we are above that!

Being the semi- inquisitive type, you know; only when it suits me, it became my mission to watch for these California Stoppers.

There were not that many upon a first hard round of observations. Dad said it was because the fine for running a stop sign was steep and it took points away from your license so people feared that happening.

The thought left me paralyzed with fear! But hey, we have the law, the good old fashioned black and white, dealt out swiftly by your friendly local police officers, order and tranquility, points earned and points lost, so straight forward and yet confusing at the same time law.

Not stopping for the full and correct 3 seconds or creating a sense that forward motion had in fact come to a halt was a death sentence for me.

I always looked both ways and spent a considerable amount of time clearing intersections while ensuring the law was properly followed.

Ok I am droning on, so anyways, as the years went on I began noticing people were increasingly no longer stopping at intersections all the way!

Over a ten year period it slowly became the standard, I mean everyone is doing it right? Just up and keep going! Only stop if there is a light and even then on right hand turns people started to roll those too.

What was changing and why was it changing? We need law and order, we need civility, we have laws for a reason, to not have laws and obey them leads to all out anarchy right???

Then one day, I was in my early thirties, I too rolled a stop sign, oh I had been doing it forever bandwagon jumper , everyone does, nothing ever happens so my friends say, which I always found hard to believe and yet here I was motoring on when Johnny Law slipped from a side street and lit me up all red and blue lights an shit!

My heart was racing, what had I done? As he walked up the side of my old Ford, I already had paperwork in hand but for the life of me could not figure out what I had done.

Rolling down the window the officer took my information, told me he would return and after what seemed liked hours as rubberneckers gazed upon my scarred and shadowed soul cast so darkly under the glow of blue and red rotating police lights.

They rubberneckers all slid by as close and slowly as possible. I just knew they were laughing inside the comfort of their cars, making snarky remarks while calling me every name in the book!

You could see it on their smug condescending faces!! The police officer came back for which I produced my best Ill kiss your ass smile.

While handing my paperwork back through the window he then explained I had in fact rolled the stop sign at the intersection behind us.

Oh and you know I stopped, I stopped hard, the hardest stop anyone had ever stopped since the dawn of vehicle stoppedness! He kindly thanked me for being so polite and explained because of my skilled Eddie Hascal impression kids look that one up too he was letting me off with a warning.

Please never run another stop sign again. So nice of him to recognize pure sincerity when he saw it. From that point on, as the years passed by I started noticing other things as well.

People no longer moved out of the fast lane, choosing to camp there much like a Memorial Day weekend, staking their claim and not budging no matter how hard you pressed them!

There were people passing on the right, all the time, as if it was safe! I mean last time I checked that was labeled the slow lane and the left was the fast lane and oh my god I feel as though I am in Bizarro land!

Also people tailgating! Whatever happened to a minimum of three car lengths between you?

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