tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-937310806684945852024-03-12T17:41:27.205-07:00Journey PubLife is a journey, long and up-hill, intermixed with exciting down-hill runs, drop offs, jumps and even pull-outs with incredible views. A traditional pub was the center of community life, a place for laughing, sharing, celebrating and even mourning. Journey Pub is a slightly eschew look at the journey of life from one whose well traveled, complete with insights from the road, thoughts and humour.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12696717913297391652noreply@blogger.comBlogger8125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93731080668494585.post-28551875108048758902010-05-25T23:18:00.000-07:002010-05-25T23:18:33.134-07:00PPPaddle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyt8qq6dgL09UaZLLpN1xefTCYWZMrYd8XlP6BDve-KjNQWsUG1BJPs84_kyNb3NzmE5BvbWu0XkUHAcff3kbTNP1vJO-Khjjn7vwqYi12k1Gpgqnj8jjO6lucD3noSij2gJF66m81uhE/s1600/PPP+2010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" gu="true" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyt8qq6dgL09UaZLLpN1xefTCYWZMrYd8XlP6BDve-KjNQWsUG1BJPs84_kyNb3NzmE5BvbWu0XkUHAcff3kbTNP1vJO-Khjjn7vwqYi12k1Gpgqnj8jjO6lucD3noSij2gJF66m81uhE/s400/PPP+2010.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Bransen Reynolds, Ashkan Motamedei, Chase Reynolds, Hayden Reynolds, Steve Osterberg)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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“A little less talk and a lot more action” is a line from a well known country song. Translated, paraphrased and thematically altered to produce a healthier lifestyle I’ve been trying to live by the axiom, “Eat less, Move more”. With this in mind I began thinking about the glory of doing all six stages of the Pole Peddle Paddle race in Bend, Oregon. About a mile into the five mile run that makes up one of six legs of the PPP I began to realize just how limiting it is to train in the ultra flat Central Valley where an overpass doubles as a hill for those who are trying to train. Suddenly surviving the five mile uphill both ways run was monumental. <br />
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None the less, through perseverance we conquer. By conquer I mean we finish that which we started.<br />
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Chase, my oldest of four boys, along with a two friends managed to place second in their age group, for which they were duly rewarded with custom coffee mugs. The coffee mugs were taken with them to every restaurant they visited, to which they were greeted with shouts of “Good job DUDES!!!” A just reward for skiing, biking, running, and paddling their lungs out.<br />
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Now I turn my attention to Eppies Great Race, a no swim triathlon, where in lieu of swimming you get to paddle six miles. <br />
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Thanks for humoring me while I brag a little and try to keep the pressure on myself.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12696717913297391652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93731080668494585.post-9904602536876131212010-05-01T23:17:00.000-07:002010-05-01T23:20:38.891-07:00Urban Kayaking<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGqRK35_dHfPq3JVZ_o_uM-u_EVIQxFxQIJUa3a4lkr8IdczxIng2-N6IOOtcPEPvcblHRa5UaDx500gr-xPChMo98N3fFxQOKvZafPUtZF3Meb4ACbPFLNbES7XU3lESBTdZ93LDRjuU/s1600/Kayaking+in+Stockton.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGqRK35_dHfPq3JVZ_o_uM-u_EVIQxFxQIJUa3a4lkr8IdczxIng2-N6IOOtcPEPvcblHRa5UaDx500gr-xPChMo98N3fFxQOKvZafPUtZF3Meb4ACbPFLNbES7XU3lESBTdZ93LDRjuU/s320/Kayaking+in+Stockton.JPG" tt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(The funny look and pose is because I'm taking my own picture)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Annually I participate in the Pole Peddle Paddle race in Bend, OR. The PPP as everyone calls it is a six stage race which starts at Mt. Bachelor Ski resort and ends at the Les Schwab Amphitheater in Bends West side. The PPP is a six stage race starting with a downhill ski run followed by lengthy cross country skiing leg, a 20+ mile bike ride down to town, a hilly ten kilometer run, a 2.3 mile kayaking leg which starts out going up river, returns down river and end on a grueling up river stretch, then finishes with a quarter mile sprint into the amphitheater. </div>While many people do the event solo, we tackle it as family along with the Alexander’s. The task of kayaking falls to me. Normally I barrow a kayak from my old High School buddy, Dave Nissen, founder and owner of Wanderlust Tours in Bend ( www.wanderlusttours.com ). He set s me up with a two man kayak with an adjustable seat. The extra buoyancy makes the kayak fast once the rear seat is brought all the way forward for balance. <br />
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This year for my birthday, and to improve my time in the PPP, my wife bought me a kayak of my own, a little solo job from Costco. Like always Costco stocks some quality items and once I’ve shopped around I usually return there to get some all-around versatile piece of equipment. Of course there’s better stuff out there if you want to pay for it or specialize, but for me, a generalist, it’s just fine.<br />
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To this point my PPP training has been simulated kayaking with a pair of dumbbells and some cable rows. This year it’s going to be different. I’ve taken the kayak out a couple times on the river that runs by our house, enjoying the solitude of the river and isolation that a river can afford, but last week I discovered something new. Urban Kayaking!<br />
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Many major metropolitan areas have water ways running through them and do a nice job of building up the nicest parts of town around them. Last week my boys and I took the kayaks to the Stockton Asparagus Festival in the heart of Stockton, CA. Loverboy was playing at the water front amphitheater. Remember him? I was surprised how many good songs he they had done. While I couldn’t see the stage, which is probably ok, because he’s probably a sixty year old great grandfather in tight pants.<br />
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The view from the water of all the people having a nice time, the sun warming the winter bones, the tossing of my boys into the water from the dock (You bet I can still do it). The workout in prep for the PPP. It was all good.<br />
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I highly recommend, if you have any water within a short drive, that you get yourself a kayak and do the rural thing, but also try out the Urban exploration via water way.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12696717913297391652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93731080668494585.post-32293359130274773862010-04-18T23:46:00.000-07:002010-04-18T23:46:35.821-07:00Eighteen Till I Die<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEKse_RhfSEycQnu31QOb30tQpDhKrqnX7_bWAhfcyQZmmkXIpurU0foCYM-lqp0-B0S5PanEFH0F2QiAR3yQ3iF6LAyeLuyj24n_kHU9vzOP61-BgHFyfv1AdW6JsogHIoA5C3IBA8Qg/s1600/48th+b-day+Kayak.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEKse_RhfSEycQnu31QOb30tQpDhKrqnX7_bWAhfcyQZmmkXIpurU0foCYM-lqp0-B0S5PanEFH0F2QiAR3yQ3iF6LAyeLuyj24n_kHU9vzOP61-BgHFyfv1AdW6JsogHIoA5C3IBA8Qg/s400/48th+b-day+Kayak.JPG" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Bryan Adams wrote a song entitled “Eighteen Till I Die" in which he says, “Someday I’m going to be 18 going on 55” Well I just experienced 18 going on 48. That’s a thirty year gap between fantasy and reality, between wishful thinking and delusional. Now days when I look in the mirror, I see someone strongly resembling my Dad. </div><br />
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Still there are those of us that WILL NOT surrender. <br />
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So what are my options? I figure I could have a mid life crises, but I haven’t seen that work out too great for most men. The hair plugs look painful and ridiculous. The Corvette costs too much. The gold medallion around the neck went out of style. And the Bimbo? Nah, that’s not for me.<br />
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So I’ve settled on some serious self improvement and goal setting instead. Something I probably should have done a long time ago. I’ve shed a few pounds. I’m eating better (Which translates into less). And I’ve set a few goals. (Feel free to cheer me on or set and share your own goals and I’ll cheer for you)<br />
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Here they are…<br />
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May 8th – Rina’s Run a local 10K in Ripon<br />
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May 15th – My annual go at the Pole Peddle Paddle in Bend OR. I do the paddling.<br />
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July 19 – Eppies Great Race, a no swim triathlon. (10k + 12 miles + 6 Miles in the Kayak)<br />
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Late July – The boys and I are working on a plan to Kayak from our house in Ripon to Jack London Square in Oakland, probably a three day trip. (Thank you Cheri for the new kayak)<br />
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So to celebrate my birthday I went for a long run, kayaked with the boys, played golf twice, went to the movies, and indulged in some pretty good pizza from Pizza Plus not to mention a quick stop over at the Canal Street Grill with a friend.<br />
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So I’m on my way to an action packed spring and summer. <br />
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Like Brian Adams says, “It’s not how you look, it’s how you feel inside… it sure feels good to be alive”. What are you going to do to BE ALIVE?Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12696717913297391652noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93731080668494585.post-87670132930653863572010-04-13T00:45:00.000-07:002010-04-19T21:37:02.680-07:00The First Descent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDxqj4XuxtKoVw9CslqmfsjSQUeBVtAxEoTl2X_p-Or97qoumAjSOjRQ9obe3CIdnjBzVtJz5ICUCg1tI2RVTpOBzKcH3oahXO1YDwiimZ8wBmTcrKcvXUXKq0kOrrgOi_gHAwjPaUCQU/s1600/Rio+Congrejal+3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDxqj4XuxtKoVw9CslqmfsjSQUeBVtAxEoTl2X_p-Or97qoumAjSOjRQ9obe3CIdnjBzVtJz5ICUCg1tI2RVTpOBzKcH3oahXO1YDwiimZ8wBmTcrKcvXUXKq0kOrrgOi_gHAwjPaUCQU/s400/Rio+Congrejal+3.JPG" width="400" wt="true" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;">In my world travels I’ve found some pretty cool places to drop out for a day or two, to do some hammock time (You can’t touch this), or to adventure yourself. On a recent trip to Honduras I had the chance to return to the Rio Congrejal near Las Ceiba, Honduras. About fifteen minutes up the rio from town is a place called the Jungle River Lodge. The Jungle River is an open aired bar and screened in dorm style sleeping place literally hanging over the Rio Congrejal. For less than $20.00 you can stay the night, enjoy a fresh fruit breakfast and zip-line through the jungle. In my book that’s a better deal than any luxury hotel with its “FREE” continental breakfast.</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"></div><br />
On this occasion after a day of hot work we decided to rent inner tubes from the local Llanteria (tire shop) and float the river. For ten bucks we got four over inflated tubes and jumped in at the Jungle River Lodge for about two hours of riding the rapids, a kind of first descent of the Rio Congrejal by Gringo’s in inner tubes (as far as we know). The very first rapid swallowed my tube, or at least I thought it did, which left me coming down the rapids “au natural”. My good friend and Homeboy (also from Morgan Hill) Tommy Groen, whom I went to high school with hiked back up stream and found it circling in the eddy on the other side of huge rock. <br />
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Also with me was Dan Cooney, master tool organizer, planner, artisan, detail carpenter and founder of LOML Design( www.lomldesign.com ), Andy Carmichael the muscle and DJ of the trip responsible for all heavy lifting, reaching of high objects and finding the right playlist for iron working and of course Sean Felker, engineer extraordinaire and true brain of the operation. I acted as chief translator of job site Espaniol and “Head Seeker Outer” of places to find good grub. I also have the final say and responsibility for all work (something best done from the shade). <br />
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The moral of this story is, when in Honduras, work hard, perspire a lot, and then save a couple hours for a float on the Rio Congrejal.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12696717913297391652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93731080668494585.post-70007725591019047212010-02-25T00:12:00.000-08:002010-02-25T00:13:54.835-08:00A Somewhat Perfect Plan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9ypMT68elqtRQsy396MZj_SQlVPtyJ3e7nmOxD16cey2YrlA2DT2on3gtEBc-ok8Dngx-Edy_ITKZHiav2uPGn9_rw3-aV-o3wp3wEpsmOzvWJzPcfi4hoMkuzjg4niXtSTfCErjqFg/s1600-h/Container+dorm+angle+view.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd9ypMT68elqtRQsy396MZj_SQlVPtyJ3e7nmOxD16cey2YrlA2DT2on3gtEBc-ok8Dngx-Edy_ITKZHiav2uPGn9_rw3-aV-o3wp3wEpsmOzvWJzPcfi4hoMkuzjg4niXtSTfCErjqFg/s400/Container+dorm+angle+view.bmp" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It has been said, and I concur, that you should not let the hopes of a perfect plan keep you from acting upon a good plan. To this end we, (Assist International for whom I happily toil during the day. www.assistinternational.org ) and our partners, (Most of whom shall remain anonymous for the purpose of this Blog) are moving forward with our short, mid and long term plans to help Haiti get back on her feet.</div>Immediately following the earthquake we sent into Haiti a five “person” team, all of which were men, but I've heard it is improper to say, “a five man team” even though they were all men. (Why is that?)<br />
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Out of that trip the Early Assessment Team (EAT; kind of a curios acronym for five, “people” of the male gender, who go into places where there is really very little to eat, but then I digress) has hatched a short term, midterm and long term plan.<br />
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In the short we are funding one large, Creole and French speaking, brother who previously lived in Haiti for 12 years to coordinate the reception of relief goods which are being shipped. (Not to imply that we haven’t yet sent relief good, because this would be false. Within the first ten day Assist along with her partners had chartered planes into Haiti with medical supplies and high tech medical equipment and solar water filters to aid in the rescue and recovery efforts.)<br />
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In the midterm we are sending containers full of food, water, clothing, shoes, and shelter items. What makes these shipments of great interest to me is a little twist I brought to the shelter shipping process. Somewhere along the way I got the idea that instead of just shipping shelter items we should purchase the container and turn them into shelters also.<br />
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To accomplish this I asked Dan Cooney, founder and owner of LOML Design (www.LOMLdesign.com) to create a model for converting the containers into dorms to house some of the thousands of children that have recently been orphaned. Many of these children were transported several hours outside of Port au Prince for medical care and are now being released from the hospital hours from home with no knowledge of the status of their parents.<br />
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Here is the design Dan Cooney came up with. BTW- the finished model will have windows.<br />
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</div>Through my metal building company www.reddogsteelbuildings I am working to get the roof structures donated for the two already donated containers. Thank you GE.<br />
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Each container has the capacity of housing 30 kids with the goal of providing immediate shelter, ample food, and the security of belonging.<br />
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In the long term Assist International will be building a family style village where the kids will be placed into homes with a mother and father who love them and will shepherd them into adult life, much like perhaps your parents did for you.<br />
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In my opinion this is a crazy great plan. You fill a container with the food and clothing necessary to care for children and then turn the container itself into the shelter. As more containers arrive and more permanent family homes can be built you reduce the density of the population in the containers until they eventually become classrooms for learning. <br />
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It may not be a perfect plan, but for the time being, let’s not let that stop us. If you want to get involved give me a call at 209 599 1890.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12696717913297391652noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93731080668494585.post-19251646866659435032010-02-05T22:47:00.000-08:002010-02-05T22:47:08.627-08:00See What I Mean?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2uyrEYE5W23avtyX4JKSdXe_n9CYQBpvR81b8xjPlNYzz6xvR0njnSENSikAlylcVkCKP2jjVMwX-G00e1rXcs7nIqQNm1mxqHFCuInbMPjh6UdzfOuMp7EORJAaa7xrrSG7WdBXjQQ0/s1600-h/Picture%2520010%5B1%5D" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2uyrEYE5W23avtyX4JKSdXe_n9CYQBpvR81b8xjPlNYzz6xvR0njnSENSikAlylcVkCKP2jjVMwX-G00e1rXcs7nIqQNm1mxqHFCuInbMPjh6UdzfOuMp7EORJAaa7xrrSG7WdBXjQQ0/s400/Picture%2520010%5B1%5D" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">So it’s twenty ten. Another year is out of the shoot and before you know it, if you haven’t already, you’ll be having another Birthday sometime this year (Hopefully). Not really a Birthday, but the celebration of a day in ancient history on which you were born. </div><br />
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I’ve noticed some changes as the journey of life gets a bit longer. I’ve noticed I’m having a harder time reading the fine print, especially in dim light or early in the morning which actually occurs at the same time, especially in winter.<br />
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I’ve always known people that use “Reading” glasses and it’s kind of always been in my consciousness that at some point I would need them also. So from time to time I’ve picked up a pair in the drug store and tried them on to see how they are. They seem bit tricky to get used to and I’ve also noticed that there are a lot of stylish “dime store” frames for women, but only one style for men, “UGLY”. I guess they figure we don’t care. Why don’t they realize that while we may not care the women in our life probably do. And for that reason we would be more likely to embrace our four eyed self if the peepers made us look cool, or dashing, or hip.<br />
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As the day that I will need my own pair draws closer I’ve noticed something else that’s a bit disconcerting. I don’t just need reading glasses, I need ironing clothes glasses too because I can’t see what setting the iron is on. And evidently I will also need “working under the kitchen sink” glasses because I can’t get far enough away from the pipe to see what the heck I’m doing. And then there’s the “taking cold medicine in the middle of the night” glasses. Definitely going to need a pair of those also and a special set to see which way the charger plug goes into my cell phone. <br />
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So I went to the dentist the other day only to find out my gums were receding. Come to find out I’d been brushing my teeth with Preparation “H” instead of Peppermint Paste. Honey, have you seen my “teeth brushing” glasses?Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12696717913297391652noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93731080668494585.post-90070799858125572372010-01-27T23:30:00.000-08:002010-01-27T23:33:11.107-08:00The Name Game<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjqooyerLRamo-x-5RdXSgmjvJ32JSXfy6k8W_8l41HnOkeFeoLo2kWxA99cyW3xh_rQkGL5VD8lF3KE0reK_-ABKCu957BuGvQmcSXxqfAhCdpE4Xko5NtVZ9E_fb0iYZm6CK8q6gdoU/s1600-h/P1000411.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" mt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjqooyerLRamo-x-5RdXSgmjvJ32JSXfy6k8W_8l41HnOkeFeoLo2kWxA99cyW3xh_rQkGL5VD8lF3KE0reK_-ABKCu957BuGvQmcSXxqfAhCdpE4Xko5NtVZ9E_fb0iYZm6CK8q6gdoU/s400/P1000411.JPG" width="400" /></a><br />
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</div>I never realized until I started traveling how many American names are one syllable. I have a group of guys that travel regularly with me and most of them have single syllable names. This realization is really driven home to me when I have to introduce the group. It goes something like this, “Hi, I’m Tim, this is Tom, Jim and Dan. (On one trip to Ghana we were asked if we were Chinese. I guess it had a certain ring to it) On one trip we had Ray, Rod, Rob and Bob. <br />
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Another interesting thing occurs occasionally with names. I remember on one trip to Vietnam we had two guys travelling with us whose names had Vietnamese phonetic equivalences. I discovered this when I caught a young Vietnamese assistant giggle during an introduction of our team then quickly try to hide it. Later when I saw her alone I asked her what she heard in Vietnamese when they were introduced. In that case she heard the introduction of Dr. Hungry and Mr. Reindeer. <br />
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I was thinking about this on my recent flight to Cambodia and going through the names of the guys that would be with me. It’s all fun and games when your own name doesn’t have a phonetic equivalence, and surprise… either does my colleague Ray. But my good friend and often travel bud, Dan Cooney is another story. In Khmer, the language of Cambodia “Cooney” sounds like “Ku Nee” (I may have the spelling wrong, but then we’re talking phonetics, not spelling). <br />
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Jokingly, I was going to send him a text to cancel his plans to join me part way through my trip stating that his name had some terrible meaning, but instead of making up something I decided to ask our Cambodian host if “Ku Nee” meant anything in Khmer. <br />
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And this is where reality get’s better than make-believe. You can only imagine how happy I was when he responded that “Ku” meant “Ass” and “Nee” meant, “is here”. I could hardly wait to introduce my “former” friend as Dan “Ku Nee”.Timhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12696717913297391652noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-93731080668494585.post-53960244322636528402010-01-03T22:13:00.001-08:002010-01-04T23:39:28.445-08:00<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Challenge Question</span></strong><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPzNCjvL9v3gpAgtH1EqfIcyhkjBURHfMoFkzvNObAxB7oWfEpNqjizWlRi8_2UQDWlP-TElV2gqejaXzcuhYa8oWwh-B7c1CuWZPbTpw1_BlnVdn5hSF6FZaASZgcmt8sOv-tnPp1T0/s1600-h/DSC01899.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSPzNCjvL9v3gpAgtH1EqfIcyhkjBURHfMoFkzvNObAxB7oWfEpNqjizWlRi8_2UQDWlP-TElV2gqejaXzcuhYa8oWwh-B7c1CuWZPbTpw1_BlnVdn5hSF6FZaASZgcmt8sOv-tnPp1T0/s400/DSC01899.JPG" /></a><br />
</div>So I have a question. Is it worse to have regrets over something you've done or live a life afraid of doing something you'll regret?<br />
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What do you think? <br />
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Posted by Tim at 6:21 PM 2 comments <br />
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Sunday, December 27, 2009<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Get Over Yourself</span></strong> <br />
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</div>I’ll admit up front that I hate failure and I hate to lose, even more I hate public embarrassment, in fact I’ve spent a considerable amount of energy in my life time making sure that I don’t embarrass myself. I’ll also admit I’ve had moments where I have found a small amount of pleasure in other people’s failure (There’s actually a term for this, it’s called schadenfreude). But herein lies the problem. We’ve forgotten the blessing of extreme public humiliation and failure. By Extreme Public Humiliation I mean really, really, stinking it up, hanging your dirty laundry out for all to see. <br />
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Until you’ve sucked it up BIG TIME, in ways you can’t cover up, and lived to tell about it you just might never give yourself the FREEDOM to RISK. As long as you are afraid of failure you may hold back your success. If you’ve not given yourself the freedom to risk, you will probably never be and do all you could be and do. <br />
Until you give yourself permission to strike out, get the shot blocked or throw the interception you’ll never give yourself the opportunity to swing for the fence, risk taking a shot on goal, or throwing for the end-zone.<br />
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In raising my four boys we’ve tried hard to instill in them a winning spirit, and a love for competition, but we’ve never said, “losing isn’t an option” because it is, in fact it’s something we need to be really good at because it’s going to happen more than we like. So don’t let fear of failure keep you from giving it the old college try. After all, if you can’t lose then you also can’t win, and you’ll never really know the sweetness of overcoming defeat and the thrill of victory.<br />
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I used to hate dancing because I knew I wasn’t any good at it. How could I be, I had never danced. Since I wasn’t about to take lessons the only way to get good at it was to GET OVER MYSELF in public. The up side of this is that everyone’s enjoyment level really goes up when really suckalicious dancers lets it all hang out in public. Once your over yourself you can bask in the freedom of freedom. Janis Joplin said, Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose” Imagine the freedom that comes from surviving utter humility, the upward possibilities that follow utter failure!!!<br />
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With this in mind I want you all to go out early this year and increase your suck factor. Regularly engage in things at which you’ll completely embarrass yourself. Risk failure by swinging for the fence. If you need some help with this regularly read President Roosevelt’s, The Man in the Arena”. <br />
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“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.” <br />
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Posted by Tim at 11:15 PM 3 comments <br />
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Sunday, November 22, 2009<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Name Game</span></strong> <br />
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</div>Dear Reader,<br />
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First, thanks so much for taking an interest in reading my poor musings. It's kind of fun to share my experiences and you are all an encouragment to me.<br />
The name Dawg Gone It, evolved and made it through the blog software, meaning no else wanted the name. It has nostaligic significance and reflects my steel building company name which is Red Dog Steel named after our Big Red Rodesian Ridgeback, but was never a first choice.<br />
Now I need your help in choosing a name that is memorable and easy, but isn't in use. It has to be memorable and spell-able.<br />
Help me out please. Suggest a name in the comments section.<br />
As I final thought I am considering "Adventure Pub". A pub is a traditional meeting place for sharing community and communication. It's not so much a "bar" as we in America think of pubs. Anyway, please give me your thoughts. <br />
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Posted by Tim at 6:41 PM 3 comments <br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Life Quotes</span></strong> <br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLnomBkCdYQBjdtvCx4fpaBYjKfe5WAF6i363gcHbPkIUEJFSOaZx7qcmbvq-ZnlJCRVEwxWP9UUZ_lmVe63W5klOwLQnZ7_g8pP3110CCe0BHPky3mS68-ePMTM5XYIqJR6gCGo5y0X8/s1600-h/DSC01914.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" ps="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLnomBkCdYQBjdtvCx4fpaBYjKfe5WAF6i363gcHbPkIUEJFSOaZx7qcmbvq-ZnlJCRVEwxWP9UUZ_lmVe63W5klOwLQnZ7_g8pP3110CCe0BHPky3mS68-ePMTM5XYIqJR6gCGo5y0X8/s400/DSC01914.JPG" /></a><br />
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"A desk is a dangerous place from which to view the world." Novelist - John Le Carre'<br />
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"More men have gotten lost sitting behind their desk than ever did venturing out." Amateur philosopher and bloggist - T.S. Reynolds<br />
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"I see my path before me, but I don't know where it leads. Not knowing where I'm going is what inspires me to travel it." - Rosalia de Castro<br />
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"Life is either a great adventure or nothing." -Helen Keller <br />
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Posted by Tim at 10:37 AM 2 comments <br />
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Labels: Adventure, Lost, Quotes <br />
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Sunday, November 15, 2009<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Women you shouldn't kiss</span></strong> <br />
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It was my second trip to Afghanistan, almost two years after Bush had declared the major confrontation over. My travel bud and I were delivering about 2 million dollars worth of stuff to needy people in Afghanistan; ultrasound machines, school supplies, blankets, Y2K rations no one needed, an ambulance, that kind of stuff.<br />
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I should have known better but as I think back I had a bad pattern of kissing girls I should have stayed far from, but this one was different. This one could get you killed.<br />
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The first was a girl who lived about ten miles away from my house. I cut school, rode my bike ten miles, kissed her in the middle of the road when she got off the bus and road home before my parents got home from work. I spent the next week trying to hide from her at school by swapping jackets with my friends so she couldn’t spot me.<br />
I guess when travelling one should bone up on local customs, but then what could possibly go wrong; one big white guy in the middle of Afghanistan.<br />
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As we met with the Minister of Health, a woman by the way, for the handing over of the ambulance and ultrasounds it was to be a big media event. I got in line with the rest of my group to meet the MoH. The three people in front of me greeted her with a Holy Kiss. Trying to be hip to the culture and adopting something I’d learned from watching my wife’s high society friends I also greeted her with a peck on the cheek. I didn’t realize I was the first man in the group. Can you say “Taboo”<br />
Someone should have told me you can’t kiss the women in Muslim countries. Maybe the Burka’s and face veils should have given me a clue.<br />
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As soon as I kissed her I knew something was wrong. She squealed and giggled like a school girl and her and her little group of school yard friends ran away. I felt like Georgy Porgy. Meanwhile really big guys started confiscating video cameras from all the networks.<br />
Oh well, somewhere in our mission statement we mention spreading “Peace and Understanding” amongst people groups. I guess they have a better understanding of the big guy from America. <br />
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Posted by Tim at 12:02 AM 0 comments <br />
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Sunday, November 1, 2009<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Mosquitos SUCK!!!</span></strong><br />
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As a follow up to my last Blog which took a look at the funny side of me getting malaria I thought I'd take a more serious look at malaria so we remember the 1 million people a year who die from it. For those of you wanting to get a nice case of malaria, maybe this can be used to help you out also.<br />
Every traveler should have a basic knowledge of malaria and diseases prevalent in the areas in which they will be travelling. The easiest way to do this is to tell your doctor where you will be going. The doctor can access the CDC website and find out what kinds of shots you should get before you head out. This should be done well enough in advance so you don’t board the plane and then break out in an allergic reaction to the shot you just received. Also some shots need to be taken in a series so plan ahead.<br />
On top of that you need to know that Malaria pills do not guarantee that you won’t get malaria, they only make it less likely. Also the malaria medicine has to be appropriate to the strain of malaria in the area in which you are going to travel. You can’t just use the pills from your last trip or barrow a friends left over pills unless you are going back to the same place.<br />
All of this is pretty basic info – now I want to give you some facts on malaria that are not only shocking, but true. These facts and more can be found on the RBM website at www.rollbackmalaria.org <br />
Only the facts<br />
• Malaria's transferred from person to person via a mosquito bite.<br />
• Only female mosquitos transmit malaria. The female has whiskers.<br />
• Not all female mosquito’s carry malaria.<br />
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• The vast majority of malaria deaths occur in Sub-Sahara Africa.<br />
• Malaria costs Africa more than $12 Billion in lost GDP yearly.<br />
• Malaria is responsible for over 1 million deaths a year.<br />
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• Malaria is Africa’s number one killer of children under five.<br />
• Malaria kills an African child every 30 seconds.<br />
• Malaria accounts for one in five of all childhood deaths in Africa.<br />
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• African children have 1.6 – 5.4 episodes of malaria per year.<br />
• 40% of the world’s children live in malaria-endemic countries.<br />
• Malaria causes poverty, poverty opens the door for malaria.<br />
• Mosquito Nets can prevent a half million death per year.<br />
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• The cost of a treated mosquito net is about $1.70. <br />
• The cost to re-treat a net for a year is about $0.60 <br />
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FACT: For $2.00 you can buy a mosquito net for a child in Africa and reduce work and school loss and even save a life. So do something today. Go on line to your favorite charity and see if they have a mosquito net purchasing program. If they don’t, make a donation to Assist International at www.assistinternational.org and earmark it for mosquito nets.<br />
The key to the casual traveler is to know the symptoms and check in with your doctor if you come down with any of them within 9–14 days of possible exposure to Malaria. Symptoms include fever, headache, vomiting and other flu like symptoms. Knowing this shouldn’t keep you from getting out there and living life. <br />
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Posted by Tim at 10:29 PM 0 comments <br />
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Labels: Malaria, Mosquito, Nets <br />
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Saturday, October 24, 2009<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">Now that's Malariaous </span></strong><br />
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The first thing you need to know about Malaria is that most doctors in the U.S. have never come across a case of malaria, so you’ll pretty much be on your own as far as diagnosing it.<br />
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The second thing you need to know about Malaria is that it isn’t a sexually transmitted disease, unless of course you consider swapping bodily fluids with a mosquito, sex. Evidently some of my wife’s friends missed this point when they sent her their condolences and in hushed tones ask, “How are you doing with all of this.” <br />
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When I came down with Malaria "from sharing a dirty mosquito" in Northern Uganda I had no idea what the symptoms really were or that it would take two weeks to feel the effects, which in my travel world was a short eternity ago. Because I was travelling to Africa so frequently I had quit taking the preventative drug because at some point the danger of living on the drugs out ways the risk of Malaria. Where I went wrong was in not knowing the symptoms.<br />
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The first flu like symptoms hit me late on a Friday night after a returning from my oldest son’s high school football game to a yard and trees draped in toilet paper. My wife and I decided it was better to clean it up for him than to wait for the dew to set in and make a real mess. In the middle of cleaning I started complaining about chills and not feeling good, which solicited from my wife our family mantra, “Buck up and quit being a wimp”. <br />
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The second round of symptoms struck the next morning, but since being a wimp was already ruled out by my wife I set off for the Sierra foothills with my youngest son to go fishing. Something I had promised to do. By time I got home I tumbled into bed shaking like a leaf.<br />
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Round three hit the next morning as we were headed out the door to church. To this I received the, “If that’s the kind of dad you want to be go ahead and stay home” speech. I stayed home. Not that I wanted to be that kind of dad, but no one wants a sweating, chilling, shaking, man sharing a pew with them and I certainly didn’t want to be there in my condition.<br />
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Malaria symptoms hit every ten to twelve hours. In between you start feeling good like you’re whipping the flu, so you get up, shower, shave and try to forge on. Then it hits you again. <br />
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Round four struck as we were preparing to go to another sporting event for one of my four boys, I can’t remember which one or what sport because by now I wasn’t right in the head. Again choosing to be “one of those dad’s” I stayed home. <br />
In our family if you’re sick don’t expect chicken soup to be delivered to your room anytime soon. You just get banished to your room and if by some chance you prove to be strong enough to rejoin the pack, then more power to you.<br />
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On day four, in between rounds of sweating and freezing I drug myself to the office to answer emails before setting out to driving 450 miles to San Diego. My colleagues took one look at me, which was one more look than my family had given me, and sent me home.<br />
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At home I argued that the drive south would do me good and I would probably complete my recovery “from the flu” somewhere between Bakersfield and Castaic. I was seriously not thinking right. I had also convinced myself that the reason my pee was bright orange was because I was living entirely on orange Gatorade in an attempt to flush this nasty flu from my system. (A point not lost by my friends who later delivered a huge jug to my hospital room) My wife sent me to bed with the words, “You don’t look to good”. Evidently she finally looked at me. This got her thinking and researching which is her specialty.<br />
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Next thing I knew I was being rushed to the hospital by her while being briefed that I had every symptom of Malaria except “coma and death come quickly”.<br />
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The hospital was another problem. No matter how many times we told them I had Malaria they refused to believe us and placed the both of us in an isolated room deep in the bowels of the hospital with a big vent to suck out all of our germs. This was just to occupy us while they called the CDC who still checks on me periodically. They wouldn’t even feed us they just stuck the food outside the door and ran. They even had the audacity to tell me after tests that they had ruled out malaria. <br />
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By coincidence (God’s way of working anonymously) there was a Ghanaian doctor in the hospital that had trained in one of the hospitals I had been working at in Kumasi, Ghana. When they finally brought him to see me (This I remember as well as I remember the hallucinations of cockroaches dressed in nurse outfits), he looked at me from the door way and said, “You have Malaria. I’ll get you fixed up in no time.”<br />
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If you’re one of those who thinks there are too many foreign doctors and nurses you might want to think again. Sooner or later you may come down with something that only they can recognize. Thank God for foreign doctors. <br />
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Posted by Tim at 11:50 PM 4 comments <br />
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Labels: Ghana, Malaria <br />
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