Showing posts with label Vietnam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vietnam. Show all posts

Sunday, March 11, 2012

We Salute You

Welcome to Chu-Lai, Vietnam.  The year is 1970. 

Flying as tail gunner, sitting behind an M-60 machine gun was one of the most dangerous places to be.  Technology wasn't what it is today and a door gunner literally sat hanging.  His feet out of the chopper while flying over tree level.  Dropping hand grenades from a moving helicopter into enemy bunkers was also the job description of a door gunner.





That was only one aspect of the battle a Vietnam-Vet faced.  When they came home, they face a whole new form of opposition.  These men were mere kids.  Fighting a war they were drafted into.  Only to come home and be spit at.  Literally.

As you sit here reading this, you know I was never in "Nam".  What I am is in prison.  The other day at mail call, I met my friend Norm who reads the same blog you do.  You met Norman the other day.  He was in Vietnam and lived to tell his story. 

He tell me about the war, while I tell him about prison.  We share war stories.  Norman knows all too well how it feels to wake up far away from home in a place you don't want to be.  That's the life of a prisoner, and a deployed soldier in some forsaken war zone. 

In order for me to get a clearer picture of what these veterans faced, I went to a man who sleeps only a few bunks away from me.  He too fought in Vietnam.  Many years ago he was a young man fighting in the same war Norman fought. 

Two soldiers who have became a major part of my life.  Norman greets me at mail call with stories of his younger days.  He helps keep me sane in my own battlefield.  Many days the battlefield of my mind.  At the same time he does this, the soldier on this side of the fence helps to free me.

Meet Joe.  Mr. Joe has become my legal counsel, and recently helped me file papers in the courts to try to adjust my sentence. 

Two soldiers.  One war.  Both came into my life and are helping me.  They fought many years ago in the same war.  Today, once again, they both have something in common.  They may no longer be fighting for the service, instead they are fighting to help the next generation. 

No matter when my freedom comes, I will never forget.  I will never forget the soldiers who fought for our country.  And today fight for me.  I give a personal salute to the two gentlemen who fight for me.  Thank you to the both of you.  Cheers to freedom...for our country and our minds.  Thank you Mr. Norman Nephew and Mr. Joe Magnotti.  Thank you both for being on my team.  Two men with much wisdom and knowledge to pass on.  If a younger generation will only listen.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

A reply from J.J.

So I made a new friend the other day.  The man's name is Norman.  Norman fought in the Vietnam and is a veteran.  We hit if off from the start.  The cool part is the age difference.  I'm half Norman's age.  What's age anyways, but a number?  Bottom line...Norman is cool as hell.

Well, Norm sends me newspaper clippings of topics he finds interesting.  You all know I am heavily tattooed and continue to get more ink.  My recent news clipping was an article written by Celia Rivenbark. 

In this woman's column she gave a statistic.  It stated that a growing trend in the elderly community is getting tattoos.  Well, she had my attention.  My own mother has asked me to give her a tattoo once I'm released.  This woman then goes on to belittle the idea of the elderly getting tattoos.  I was raised to be respectful of my elders.  Yes...even though I too am heavily tattooed.  So, I will attempt to be respectful to this woman who appears to be fairly elderly herself.

However, there are a few points I would like to make.

Times have changed.  A few years back only bikers, ex-prisoners, and outlaws had the desire to decorate their body with art.  As society advances, and changes, so do people's views on such things as tattoos.  One comment referred to old granny at the nursing home.  The point continued to suggest that the nurses would all head back to the nurse's station to laugh about grandma's tattoo.  My jaw dropped.  I think their conversation would probably be more along the lines of how cool the grandma in room 113 is.  How wild she must have been back in the day.

Meet Isobel Varley, the Guinness World Record Book Holder for the Worlds Most Senior Tattooed Woman.  Read more at http://www.inquisitr.com/11452/worlds-most-senior-tattooed-woman/.      

Personally, I want my grandchildren to one day look at me and think how the old man they see must have been a real mother-fucker back in the day.  And that I shall be until the day I die.

Some grandmas drive Jaguars and wear big, loud jewelry.  Others go get boob jobs and face lifts.  Some spend their day in a salon getting botox.  And now I hear some bad ass granny is getting inked.  I think when you've lived to a certain age you should do whatever the hell makes you happy.

And.....some ladies gossip.  Perhaps you should try getting tattooed!