Hmm. Personal feelings and such.

Such a simple subject, and yet most people are unwilling to share. I'm not one of those people, at least not in this medium.

Well, I'll start with a brief history of my life. That will at least give you a frame of reference, even if you don't understand me after reading this. My brother and I were born to two Rhode Island native parents. If there was a lottery for parents, these two would be the Grand Prize. I'm not being sarcastic, I mean that. My parents were the best parents in the world.

Protective, loving, caring, fun, all the things a child could want in a set of parents. My dad was an Army Medic. He joined in 1965 or so, Went Airborne, Went Ranger, went to a MASH unit in Viet Nam. I'm going to pause right here to clarify a few things, because I already know you have this preconcieved impression of my father as some kind of grunt-jarhead-drill-seargent. He wasn't. He was a normal father. Took pride in our successes, felt our sorrow when we failed, did the weekend barbecue thing and all the other stuff fathers normally do. He just happened to be in the Army.

My mother was(and still is) protective. A bit overprotective sometimes in my opinion, but can you really blame a mother for being protective of her children? She's been through a lot. Having to deal with 2 kids, while her husband was away dealing with a war that maybe shouldn't have happened. I can't begin to imagine the hell she went through while my father was in Viet Nam. All I know about that time is the stories my Dad told me about trying to unload injured soldiers from the chopper and having legs and arms come off in his hands. Maybe he was telling me tall tales, but somehow, I doubt it.

Anyway, After my Dad came back from Viet Nam, we spent about 7 or so years in Fort Bragg, NC. I went to Elementary and some Middle School there. After that, it was San Antonio, TX (which we as a family LOVED), then off to Morrow, GA (I forget the Army base). After that, we went to El Paso, TX so my father could attend Command Seargent Major School. Once that was completed, we went to Stuttgart, West Germany.

Stuttgart is a WONDERFUL city. Graduated Highschool there. All through High School, Dad use to tell me "You should at least try the Army. They've been good to us." My Father died 4 days before my 18th birthday. Because of that, my mother (Being the protective mother she is) thinks I'm somehow scarred by it.

I'm not.

She thinks that because my Father died at 42, that my brother and I have some preconcieved notion that we will die at 42 as well. She also seems to think that we resent Dad because he died. This couldn't be farther from the truth. If I had made up a father in my mind, of all the things I think a father should be, he wouldn't even compare to my Dad.

Anyway, when we came back to the states, to San Antonio, I worked in a grocery store for about 6 months, and I decided it wasn't cutting it. So I joined the Army. I spent 3 years in Berlin. Another WONDERFUL city (Germany is FULL of them). Met a lot of friends. Guys that made me realize what it was about the military that my Dad loved so much. It didn't matter where you came from, where you were going, what religion you were or if you had family to go back to. What mattered was that you had family HERE. Whether you accepted it, whether you liked it, it didn't matter. You were Family.

I've since left that life, and have moved into the "real" world as a programmer. But you know what? My Father taught me a lesson: No matter where you go, there is always family.

Ok, on with the show. I'm currently seperated from my wife but we're still very good friends. I have 2 cats (Maya - a fat himalayan, and Rita - a small (but still fat) black cat.)

I consider myself an intellectual, but I'll leave that to you to decide. I enjoy watching Discovery and History channel but that don't mean much. I'm also a fan of pretty much all things scientific.