Brother From Another Mother

Going through life, as short or as long as it may be, is tough. Things get you down, people can be mean- let’s face it- it’s not all a box of chocolates.

Befriending someone is a valuable tool you can put away in your heart-shaped toolbox for those times when life seems to be, well, kind of in need of repair.

This is why I have friends- a lot of friends. I’ve never been keen on making enemies. I’ve found that of all the friends, there are some that stick out a little more than others. These are your best friends. Your bros!

Bros are the ones you call up when you’re in a jam. Need a ride somewhere and your car’s in pieces? Call em’ up. Have a six pack in your fridge you need gone? Give your buddy a holler and watch it disappear.

So, when I found out that my brother from another mother, Chad, lost his mom, I had to do what I could in as little time as I had.

Tracy was like a mother to me throughout my adolescence. She kept a watchful eye on Chad and me when she could. So, when I heard about her passing last week, my heart went out immediately to Chad.

I knew he was upset. Chad’s the kind of guy who won’t admit immediately to needing a shoulder to cry on, but I’ve known Chad for the majority of my life- and I felt an overwhelming notion to just be there for him.

Unfortunately, I had issues in my way that prevented me from making the trek from Daytona to Birmingham. Money would be a non-issue, but my transportation was in a poor state at the time. Darlene had a bad misfire and wasn’t working right. So, unless I rented a car or hopped on a last-minute flight, I wasn’t going to the funeral- much less be there to console my all-time best friend.

I also had prior commitments in line. I had school, of course, and I was scheduled to work on Wednesday night. I could easily take care of those, if only I had a means of transportation.

So, I stalled a bit. I was distraught- I had lost someone that was dear to my heart, although we’d grown distant over the years. More importantly to me, however, was that my best friend was exponentially more distraught. So, as I sat on my back patio on Tuesday night, my brain began to get back into gear.

I immediately calculated how far and how long it would take me to get to the funeral. I was left with about three hours, working into the wee hours of the night, to fix my car and get on the road.

Just as I was about to get to wrenching, another one of my best friends, Mike, came outside to talk and hang out. Mike, like Chad, needed a friend to help him out a couple weeks back when he was running into some household issues- so he came to stay with me until they’re sorted out.

I explained to Mike that if I started working on my car at this very moment, fixed it, and started on my way to Alabama, I would make the funeral with a couple hours to spare. He agreed with me that it was a crappy situation, all things aside. Just when I was giving up hope, Mike chimed in.

“If you pay for half the gas, we will leave right now and we’ll take my car.”

I laughed. Seriously? Mike has seemingly infinite more obligations to adhere to than I, and I doubted he would go through with such a claim. Here we were, 10:30 PM, talking about making a trip to central Alabama in the next hour.

A barrage of doubts came Mike’s way, and he made it very clear that while he may have had his own doubts, he was in. The stipulations were simple- pay for half the gas, do my part with driving, and get back in time for school the following day so we’d only miss one class session each. I agreed.

So, after packing up some essential items, taking a shower, and grabbing a shirt to wear (which I ended up forgetting in the end anyway), Mike and I hit the road. The time? Midnight.

Mike was quite tired, as he normally gets a couple hours of sleep a night during the week and then makes up for it with micro-comas throughout the weekend. Being that this was an early Wednesday morning, I took control of the monstrous BMW SUV and headed north.

The drive wasn’t all that bad. We were listening to stand-up comedy on Pandora the whole way up, but I kept thinking to myself, what am I doing? I should turn around and just head back home. There’s no way we can do this. We’re tired, our minds are fried, and time just isn’t on our side- let’s just turn around, end the charade, and give it a good effort pat-on-the-back. I kept talking myself out of this. I reminded myself of Chad and his anguish, and how I needed to be there for him. I have to be there for him.

Time seemed to just keep flying by. Before I knew it, we were in Jacksonville. Then, we were entering Tallahassee. A pee break and a little later, and bam- welcome to Alabama. I knew from past driving experience that this route flies by- but I don’t remember it being that swift.

As I played the maze of US-231 in Dothan, I suddenly remembered that I was going to a funeral- not visiting. It was four in the morning and I was feeling more and more groggy. Another pee break, another NOS energy drink, and I hit my second wind. I had to remind myself that as much fun as it is to go on a road trip, especially to see family and friends, this wasn’t the typical “oh, Jay’s stopping in for the long weekend-” this was Jay on his way to a funeral. I don’t know how to describe it, but being in Alabama was, at the time, something bittersweet.

I arrived in Montgomery somewhere around six thirty, and kept truckin’. Mike was in and out of consciousness, and sometimes I even forgot that he was there. I began to get that amped feeling I usually get when going through Montgomery- that “get out of my way, I’m going home” feeling.

I had called my mom from Troy and told her we were about an hour out. The plan was to stop at my parents’ house, grab some sleep and some breakfast, and keep heading north.

As I was driving down Coosada Parkway, I saw my brother going the opposite direction in his Bronco, on his way to work. I waved, but my brother was oblivious since he was probably looking for a white Mustang instead of a tan SUV.

We got to my parents’ house around seven or so, and Mike, without missing an insomnia-induced beat, pointed to the couch, established that it was a couch, and then laid on the couch. I stayed up and talked to my mom.

It was about this time that I thought to myself, in about twenty-four hours, I have to get up and go to school. I pushed the thought down. Mike arose for breakfast, and we set out again.

This time, I was passed out in the passenger’s seat. I woke up on Hwy 280 in Birmingham and came to my senses. We’re here.

So I made it. The rest of the story is in the history books. I was able to be there for my best friend during a time of grief, and that was more important than anything. Physically, I was beat to hell and back. Mentally and emotionally, I was alright. As much as Chad didn’t expect me to be there, I didn’t hardly expect me to be there either.

Needless to say, Mike and I went through some misesrable times on the way back. We had driven 1100 miles, were running on a couple hours of sleep, and still had to go to school and (for me) work the next day. So, for a couple days, our internal clocks needed winding down a tad.

The moral of the story is that having people in your life who are willing to make sacrifices for you is very important- much like family. Had Mike not offered his assistance, I wouldn’t have been able to assist Chad. I am very grateful and feel very blessed to have guys like these as my best friends. I have only two other friends who can be placed in that category, and I think that’s pretty much the limit. Who knows? Maybe I’ll defy my own odds again someday.

And they’re all brothers from another mother.

I leave you with this, Chad’s “goodnight” text to me:

“Peace, love, Roll Tide, fast cars, and beer. Amen.”

RIP Tracy Craft Davis

One year left…

“Honor the past, hone the future.”

I read that on a drawing today while walking through the College of Aviation. 

It resounded with me for some reason. Thanks to my parents, I’ve been a history buff for a while. Everyone’s heard the typical saying regarding history- “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” I always thought of it that way, but I think this new quote captures the intent a little better, for me, at least.

I’m able to reflect on the great moments in my nation’s history because I know it. It’s a noble thing to be knowledgeable in the realm of history. This quote made me think a little deeper than I usually do, especially after attending the commissioning ceremony on Saturday. 

I start to wonder if they all know exactly what they are getting into. The Air Force is huge, but small. It’s specific but general. It’s guaranteed but unsure. Unless you’ve experienced it firsthand, I’m not sure if anyone would be able to comprehend that. 

I still search for a way of eliminating this genuine concern for the newly commissioned officers without feeling somewhat snobby. After all, they’ve put their time and effort into the program just as much as I have, perhaps even more so…

Which brings me back to the subject at hand. Because I have a history in the military, and a background in the Air Force, I think I have a pretty decent idea of what I’m getting into. But past experience tells me that it will all work out in the end- it may be messy and it may sting a little, but things have a way of happening, whether you are ready or not. 

I’ve learned quite a bit in the past three years. As much as I hate to live with regret, I only regret not getting to this school sooner and starting this program earlier instead of wasting a year at another school taking gen-ed core classes. Otherwise, I would have commissioned on Saturday. It’s unfortunate, but it’s what I have to live with. 

Here’s to one more year of honoring the past and honing the future. 

EDIT: I’ll add pictures later. 

Muscle Car Wars: Commence!

At 662 horsepower, it has the most powerful V8 to be in put into production. What do you think?

It was just announced a few days ago that the new Shelby Mustang GT500 would have not 600, not 650, but 662 horsepower and an earth-moving 630 lb. ft of torque. Top speed is no less than 200 miles per hour. Those are supercar figures…in a $55k Mustang!

It took a few days for me to realize why Ford would put such a high horsepower rating into a car that A) won’t be able to put it down without spinning everywhere and B) so freakin’ cheap. Clearly, it won’t touch a ZR-1 Vette without a complete suspension revision. And the Camaro? The most powerful of its kind falls 82 horsepower short. And it’s ugly.

So, why would SVT engineers push the envelope this far? I mean, with the fuel prices shooting up and every car manufacturer making their engines smaller and more economical, isn’t this kind of a step in the wrong direction?

My theory is that Ford’s engineering team is made up of a bunch of car nuts. Being engineers, they understand pressure and the results of pressure being applied to the right areas. So, how do you re-ignite the muscle car wars that have already begun? Light a huge fire under an ass or two.

The first area to consider is the buyer’s market. At about $50k less than the ZR-1, the GT500 will have no problem attracting those mid-life crisis gentlemen and their retired wallets filled with money they’ve been saving for their dream hot rod. Sure, the ZR-1 will probably have better lap times, more lateral Gs, and the flashy chrome wheels, but the GT500 will have more power for less- it even dodges the gas guzzler tax.

Perhaps the most interesting battlefield, aside from price, would be the direct competition. As it stands, GM doesn’t possess a car that lists at under $70k that can go toe-to-toe with the new GT500- but that’s where it gets interesting.

See, the new Camaro was launched with a Mustang equivalent. For example, it started with a 304-horsepower V6 base model, to which the Mustang fired back with 305 and 31 mpg. Camaro jumped its rating to 312. When the SS was released, it was sure to annihilate every 4.6 ever built, but fell on deaf ears when Ford unveiled the 5.0. And with the ZL-1’s introduction, its aim was right between the eyes of the Boss 302 and Shelby GT500.

Except that the ZL-1, despite its “superior handling,” was only a second faster than the 302 at a recent track outing. That’s not superior handling- that’s having just enough power to overtake on the straights (136 more horsepower, in fact). For those not able to comprehend, it’s like taking a sledgehammer to a nail on the wall to hang your favorite tapestry.

So, when Ford announced that the GT500 would get a horsepower bump, everyone was expecting somewhere in the neighborhood of 580-600 horsepower, just to stay competitive. Instead, SVT dropped a bomb.

So, what you have is a car with no direct competition. Some argue the Z06, but it has 157 horsepower less, won’t break 200 mph without modification, and is actually more expensive. Others claim the ZR-1 will be the contender, but at a price tag nudging $120k, the value isn’t there. And for those hoping for the slaughter to be executed by the ZL-1, that’s just unfortunate.

However, there is a problem.

When Shelby first released its retro GT500 in 2007, its price was no more than about $45k. However, due to dealers realizing they can get more money for less, they marked it up north of $70,000. This went down after a while, but you will still be hard pressed to find any new GT500 below MSRP, much less below $60k. And this wasn’t just at one dealer- it was at every dealer. Dealers’ excuse? “Collectible.”

This leads me to believe that, because it will be “the most powerful V8 in any production car,” and the fastest and first Mustang to break 200 mph, the dealer markups will be insane. Unfortunately, this will elevate the GT500’s value, thus placing it very near its nearest competitor on paper.

Next time you’re at your local Ford dealer checking out their inventory, wander inside and look at the GT500’s sticker. You’ll be glad you aren’t buying one.

Anxiously Awaited…

Almost eight long years have come and gone since I left home in search of my dream. Almost a quarter of my life has been devoted to finding that elusive job. The one where I can do something I love, get paid to do it, and enjoy myself all the while.

I started by joining the Air Force. I found that the Air Force fit me quite well, but being enlisted was just the beginning. I did my time, loved it, and decided to pursue the commission.

Upon receiving an enrollment allocation, my future as an Air Force officer is in the bag (provided I don’t get in trouble, which I never do). I was content. I’m happy. In fact, no matter what job I get, I’d remain pretty dang satisfied.

Of course, there’s always that “what if” scenario. What if I decided to not only be an officer, but a pilot? This was, after all, the ultimate in careers. And, if I’m being completely honest, was really what I wanted to do.

Given my field training performance and PT score, however, I doubted my chances of a pilot slot were all that great. In fact, I was hoping I’d get any rated position- even ABM (Air Battle Manager) or CSO (Combat Systems Officer). So, this past Wednesday, when the results were about to be announced, I had my reservations and doubts.

We herded FTP group into the auditorium, where the rest of the cadet wing were fettered with anxiety. We were all seated and the “Big Day” video, a video skit produced by the categorizing class, began. It ended with the colonel walking into the auditorium, and in he came.

After some scholarship announcements, the colonel started with his speech. He mentioned the qualifying factors like PT, AFOQT scores, and GPA- and then he started with the list.

It was in alphabetical order. How stressful is that? You KNOW your name is coming up- or not. So, when I heard Breanna McGuire’s name come shortly after Jake McCoy’s, I started to sweat…and shake…and panic.

The entire auditorium was filled with about 300 people, all shouting and clapping at the rated selects. Every time a name was announced, it was like an explosion of sound. The colonel had a witty quip about each person before he said the name, so you had an idea of whom he was talking about before he formally announced it.

After McGuire joyfully made her way to the front of the auditorium to be on display for the rest of the wing, my heart was beating out of my chest. I couldn’t even think straight- I thought I had come to grips with the reality that my chances at a pilot slot were slim, but I was wrong. If I didn’t get this, my heart would be broken.

The colonel then said, “Still suffering from PTSD…” and it was over.

I honestly can’t remember the next fifteen to thirty seconds, as it was all a blur. I remember about twenty or thirty of my friends rushing to hug me and shake my hand. I wanted to hug every single person there, but didn’t want to keep the colonel waiting for the shake-take-salute, so it ended up looking like a sea of people walking down the stairs. I did the routine and joined the rest of the 16 people who got pilot slots in the front of the auditorium, still in shock.

Last Wednesday was probably the most incredible feeling I’ve had without any sort of altered physical state. I don’t know if I’ll ever get that kind of feeling again- it’s really all down hill from here. The excitement in my voice, the excitement in other people’s voice- it was so hard to contain.

So, after almost eight years of working toward my dream, my dream has been confirmed.

I am going to be a pilot in the United States Air Force.

Fitness…routine?

Fitness, as I mentioned before, is a hot item when it comes to resolutions and goals. Everyone wants to be in tip-top shape for some event, whether it be for summer, holidays, or even something as simple as wanting to look better for your significant other on your anniversary.

But as I’ve also mentioned, fitness, despite whatever measures are taken, can’t be a once-in-a-while deal. For fitness to truly excel in its splendor, it needs to be routine.

So, what’s the difference between routine fitness and a fitness routine?

A fitness routine is your agenda over a short time period to achieve certain goals; for example, maxing a physical fitness assessment or getting back into those size-30 jeans before you hit the beach. It’s usually designed to get the maximum amount of results over a given period of time, which makes it suitable for those with short-term goals in mind. Therein lies the problem.

If you set your goal to be to run 15 miles a week, but you’re currently running zero, your chances of achieving your goal are greatly diminished. See, the first time you wake up at 5 AM and run three miles will be close to the last time it happens for a while. It’s hard- in fact, for some (me, for example), it’s damn near impossible. This is where routine fitness needs to step in.

The problem with fitness routines is if you do manage to push yourself for those weeks or months, you will probably achieve your goal. But then what? If you’re anything like me (lazy), you’ll probably say, “Cool, I’m here, time for beer and junk food! I’m taking a break!”

Two months after that, the weight is back on, and the fitness level has fallen through the floor. Now we can look in the mirror and see…that old friend of ours- flab. I’m lazy, so getting back into that “routine” takes even more effort.

The key with achieving fitness goals is to make fitness (once again, as I’ve said before) a part of your lifestyle. So, instead of waking up an hour early to run three miles a day, wake up a half hour early and run only one or one and a half. It’s not too hard to stick to (it’s only a half hour, after all) and as long as you stick to it, it will slowly work its way into your everyday life. Unlike before, where you set a high goal and started at, say, 85% effort, you are now only shooting for an easy 15-20%, which translates into less mental stress and more possible physical exertion. In fact, you can start as small as you want- even if that means making five minutes available to go for a quick walk around your block.

Make it a part of your lifestyle, however small you like. As long as you’re exceeding your current physical exertion, make it a daily routine, and change nothing else in your diet, you will see results.

So, what am I trying to say? Jay, are you telling me that my goal is too high? Are you saying I’m fat? You’re a jerk!

No, that’s not it at all. But if you’re running into trouble sticking to your fitness routine, maybe you should try to make fitness routine.

Turning fitness from a chore into a part of your every day routine takes effort and motivation, and will yield a much better, safer, and healthier means of reaching your goals.

Curve Balls

Life never quite goes as planned. You can hope for the best, expect the worst, but the sad truth is sometimes, life will throw you a curve ball.

Curve balls are a metaphor for things you just can’t plan for. They’re things that happen unexpectedly and are difficult to nail. They’re unpredictable and most often, difficult to resolve the first time around.

Life threw us a curve today. While Tricia was on her way back from lunch, a little old lady pulled out in front of Tricia and the rest is history.

Tricia is fine, thank God. The car, however, is going to be in the shop for a week or two before we get it back.

Thankfully, the old lady’s insurance company has done a bang-up job of taking care of us. The car is getting repaired and we now have a great rental that will make our holiday season with the in-laws much easier.

The key to the curve ball is to take your time and analyze the situation before jumping to an erred conclusion. Upon hearing my wife’s quivering voicemail, I was in my car on my way to see her. The drive over helped me relax a bit and not hunt down and attack that old woman. That was my first instinct- find whoever caused this and give them a piece of my mind.

Cooling off and collecting my thoughts allowed me to think clearer. Instead of jumping down some throats, I was able to concentrate on the most important aspect of the situation- my wife is alright. In the big picture, a car can be replaced. My wonderful wife, however, is irreplaceable.

The car wasn’t as bad as I pictured, but it definitely wasn’t good. The front driver’s side quarter is…well, it’s pretty jacked. New hood, new bumper, new fender, new door panel, headlight, and some little things here and there are needed for it to be fully repaired.

The wife, on the other hand, is suffering from a sore body and not being able to drive her car. Her already-flustered and shocked demeanor would have only been amplified had I shown up ready to kill, and I’m sure she’s grateful for my calmer state.

At the end of the day, everything is just fine and so far as I can tell, we’ve hit the curve ball out of the park.

 

 

Impulse Buys

In adult life, you find yourself buying necessities first, and then fun stuff later. The fun stuff sometimes tends to surface on occasion and you can “impulse buy.” This is generally a bad move…

Some things I have impulse-bought have been very worthwhile, however. The following is a list of things that I use more often than not, things that were great investments, and things that make my life a little better and more enjoyable.

1. Epiphone Les Paul Ultra: I bought this $700 guitar after getting approved for $1000 credit at Guitar Center. I originally bought a Zakk Wylde LP Custom, but quickly realized that it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be; not for me, anyway. I took that guitar back and traded down for this beautiful instrument. It plays like a dream, sounds amazing, and to top it all off, it’s gorgeous. My wife even likes to have it out on display, as it adds to aesthetics and color to house. I’ve played guitars costing ten times as much as this one, and some don’t hold a flame to it. Overall, one of my favorite impulse buys ever.

2. Line 6 Spider series guitar amplifier: Sure enough, after paying the LP off, I wanted to add a little volume. Okay, maybe a LOT of volume. I had a small Marshall 30-watt amp that I was using to blast my tunes when one day, I decided that I needed a new amp. A trip to Guitar Center yielded a massive 2×10-inch speaker 120-watt digital beast. Yeah, it was expensive- about $650 with the pedal accessory- but it opened up a world of possibilities to my sound. Not to mention, when my little Marshall was struggling to maintain clarity with the volume to match my home theater, this thing sings clear and true beyond the stereo. Paid it off, and I’m quite happy!

3. Mac H-pipe for the Mustang: My car sounded good before I put this part on. In fact, it sounded great. But it was quiet! The rumble of a Mustang is a signature quality of the pony car, and if you can’t hear it, it doesn’t necessarily turn heads or make people think “that sounds nice.” My wife bought it as a surprise after we came into a little extra money, and man, what a surprise it was! After bolting this piece of metal up, the flow of the exhaust air was dramatically increased, and, as a result, so was the volume. Best modification by far!

4. Wife’s Ring: Okay, don’t read too far into this one before slapping the “you rushed into it!” stamp on me. The initial purchase of her ring and the emotions involved were NOT associated with impulse buying! What I’m talking about in terms of her ring are the upgrades we’ve done. Her original engagement ring was laughable- the diamond was about as big as a grain of sand! Shortly after getting married, however, we upgraded the diamond to a much bigger, much nicer looking rock. That was a TOTAL impulse buy. Not once did I put serious thought into the consequences. The next impulse buy was the accent- it’s hard to describe, but it was a last-minute Valentine’s Day gift. In the end, though, the ring is beautiful- just like her. Most men cringe when they think of the money you spend on rings- in the end, I think we did just fine and I am quite satisfied- as is she.

5. Home Theater: I bought my Sony receiver with a credit card I’m very thankful to have off of my back. It was only $200, but it had infinitely more flexibility and power than my old receiver. Team that up with my Kenwood speaker system, and I’m set. Now, if only I could get the rest of my surround sound speakers…(wink, wink, Tricia)

6. Computer: I got to Afghanistan already feeling quite homesick. I missed my wife, I missed our little life in Idaho, and I still had four months left to go. I wanted a way to communicate with my wife and family while I was gone apart from the weekly 15-minute morale calls. When my first big paycheck came, I bounced the laptop idea off of her and she agreed. Lo and behold, I still use it every single day. It was only $800, but it still runs like a champ and takes care of everything I need it to with little back-talk. I’ve worn out some buttons, the hard drive is about to burst, and the battery may only last about five full minutes when it’s not plugged in- but this Sony Vaio is my baby and it has been one of the best investments I’ve ever made.

7. Lucy: I know what you’re thinking…how can your DOG be an impulse buy? Isn’t that something you normally plan for well in advance? And, yes, you’re correct. But understand that up until we had gotten her, the idea of a dog was still a fickle proposition. I wanted a super-expensive French Bulldog, Tricia wanted a Boston Terrier, and we could never seem to find the right price on either. As a result, we more or less gave up on the idea of bringing a dog into the family. Until one day, while walking around our favorite puppy store, Tric locked eyes with this precious little Boston. It was over. We played with her at the store, and left without her.

About two hours later, Tricia couldn’t stand it. She couldn’t fathom that sweet little puppy in that store any longer. So, after talking it out and making a hasted plan on how this will progress, we marched into the store and agreed to the price.  Tricia held “Lucy” all the way home.

Now, Lucy is a bit larger, but not by much. She’s a whopping 15 pounds and has a personality that is easy to fall in love with. She is, by far, my favorite impulse buy ever.

My little princess. She's a Daddy's girl, for sure.

Why the Mustang?

It’s a question I’ve been asked before. It’s usually asked by a Camaro or Corvette owner who genuinely appreciates my car for its character, but wouldn’t drive it to save their life.

Most can boil it down to personal preference. In the end, this really is the ultimate deciding factor. Some can’t fathom driving a Ford- unless it’s a Mustang. Some can’t fathom driving a Mustang- unless it’s a Cobra. And then you have your die-hard Bow Tie and Mopar fans that refute the existence of the original “Pony Car.”

I have an open and tasty appetite for muscle cars. I love Corvettes, Camaros, Chargers, Challengers, GTOs…any car with a big engine and lots of fun factor peaks my interest. So, how could I possibly narrow my desires down to the Mustang?

To be honest, it boils down to the sound and the feel. I’ve driven and ridden in a handful of Camaros, Corvettes,  and a variety of others- but the Mustang always has the best sound and the best feel. They feel just a little better planted, a little tighter, and the sound- oh the sound! Even the low-rated V8s like mine sound orgasmic. The higher the horsepower, the better this sound becomes. I find this to be the opposite with Vettes and ‘Maros; the more horsepower you pull from the LS-series engine, the worse they harmonize.

Don’t get me wrong- I’ve heard my fair share of LS7 Vettes with a hot cam and unrestricted exhaust, and it sounds beastly. But, in my honest opinion, the Ford V8s outpace every other in terms of rumble.

Perhaps the underwritten aspect of my Mustang love lies in its history. It was designed to be owned and operated by anyone- old, young, rich, poor- it was a true people’s car. If you couldn’t afford the Boss or the Shelby, there were fastback GTs and the Mach 1. Can’t afford those? There are plenty of six-cylinder and four-cylinder engines to go in there, as well.

It wasn’t designed to take down anybody. Ford didn’t design it to take over the Corvette, the then-current king of muscle cars. They didn’t design it to take down the Ferraris at Indy. Nor was it designed to attack the Camaro and Firebird- because they didn’t exist!

The Mustang has also survived the best and the worst of times. During the oil crunch in the 1970s, the Mustang kept its head above water with the hideous Mustang II and even the “King Cobra.” Granted, these cars were genuine unadulterated crap that failed to spark any sort of excitement from anyone. However, they have earned their respective place in Mustang history- just like every model before and after.

The F-bodies died in 2002 when GM could no longer afford the namesake. It was sad, because the cars being produced were about as awesome as they come. I still dream about the burnt orange Trans Am WS6 with a hot-rodded LS1 producing somewhere in the neighborhood of 400 horsepower. And don’t forget the blacked-out SS Camaro on Torq Thrusts with the dual exhaust in the center- pure sex!

The Mustang, on the other hand, continued. And it continued with vigor and fury. While it may not have always been the fastest or the prettiest, it sure had a following.

To think, it was created to open up a new type of car, the same type of car that it is today and will always be the king of.

The Mustang; the original Pony car.

Ugly World

The world is ugly. There’s no doubt about it.

I try not to let this concern me while watching my favorite holiday movies- the ones where life is good, things are joyful and happy, and there is no detracting negativity…anywhere.

The facts are hard to bear when you become an adult, though. No Santa Claus? Bills? Car problems? Life sucks sometimes.

But don’t let life define you- define your life.

Work hard, play hard- this is how I try to be. I’ve heard this since entering the actual adult world when I joined the Air Force, and I’ve lived by it. When work is to be done, do whatever it takes to get it done. The same goes for school.

But know that the weather isn’t always going to be sunny and warm. It will get bitter cold. You will get rained on. And worse of all, there really is nothing you can do about it. No matter the conditions outside, you still have responsibilities to undertake. You will be expected to maintain your hard work, hard play mentality- even in times of trouble.

After the working hard is over, it’s time to play- hard. I think this is the reason for Christmas being my favorite holiday. I’ve worked my butt off this year- and after today, I get to relax. I can clean the house, play video games, play guitar, build models- whatever. It’s going to be nice enjoying the time off from school and work…*sigh*.

So, get out there, work your butt off, and when Christmas rolls around, take a good bit of time to enjoy the finer things in life- family, friends, and most of all, time.

This blog is short, sweet, and to the point. I’ll have more to come, so tune in next time for your favorite episode!

Physical Fitness

There is nothing more demoralizing and discrediting to our military than out-of-shape leaders. Following someone resembling Jabba the Hutt is difficult and doesn’t promote the proper conduct expecting of our military.

For this reason, all military branches now have mandatory physical training tests. Leaders at the highest echelon of military rank proposed rules and regulations regarding the physical abilities of their respective members with all the right intentions. As a result, we now have the PT tests associated with each service.

Each was designed to create an atmosphere of self-improvement and betterment. After all, a healthy troop is a troop you have to worry about least. But, did it really have to come from up top?

My father was once put in charge of his section back in the olden days of the Air Force. One of the first things he noticed was that the section was in the dumps. Work barely got done, people were overweight, and the motivation to excel was lacking. His first move? Implement a mandatory time for working out.

The results were great- morale improved, work was done, and everyone was feeling better than ever due to their fitness. All of this was the work of one staff sergeant.

So, why did such a tall order come down from the top?

The answer lies in the same lacking principle as many other problems in today’s military- integrity.

With integrity comes courage- the courage to do the right thing. Had every other E-5 and E-6 in the Air Force made the same effort as my father, there would be no need for a mandatory PT test. Someone didn’t have the integrity to come forth and admit their responsibility for maintaining their own section’s fitness and, in turn, spread like a disease across the Air Force. Complacency took over. The Air Force was retiring big, jolly, fat men instead of proud, vigilant airmen.

Enter the Air Force physical fitness assessment, also known as the PFA.

As I stated before, the PFA was designed with the highest level of intentions. Unfortunately for the rest of the Air Force, this now meant another revision to EPRs, OPRs, award nominations, BTZ promotion packets…you name it. Money was spent, time was taken, and it’s official- the PFA can now determine your retainability and worth.

The PFA wasn’t designed to evaluate leadership ability or establish another way of earning rewards. It was created to keep our force from getting fat on the taxpayer’s dime and to eliminate the negative feelings emanating from the civilian side as a result.

For those of you who I have talked to recently about this, you are aware that I consider this quantification. It makes it easier for the commander to evaluate who needs to be cut on the next Reduction-in-Forces board- no matter what the other character traits may amount to. I personally despise this quantification of qualities, as it leads to the Air Force hemorrhaging talent and potential. There are many things that the Air Force quantifies, and fitness is one of the most recent.

My suggestion? Use the PFA as a tool to gauge your own fitness. After all, that’s what it is supposed to do- assess your physical fitness. As an Air Force officer, I can do what I can to make sure that the PFA isn’t the end-all for the future of our potential candidates. I encourage doing your best on the PFA, but at the same time, don’t let it destroy your future. The best way to ensure you do well is to maintain a healthy fitness regimen. So what if you don’t get a 100? Anything above 75, according to the Air Force, is a sure sign that you’re deployable and entirely healthy.

Use good judgment in evaluating your fitness. You know if you need to work out or not. With that being said, I sincerely hope integrity and courage become fundamental premises for our leaders to digest and execute- all leaders, at every tier. I’ll have more on this on a later date. Til then, stay frosty!