Music does indeed soothe the savage beast. Peachy Keen made note the other day of how much music means in her life. I too use my music to take me away from the day-to-day and into a place that really is an escape. Most often, if I can get some of my favorite classical music on my noise cancelling headphones, I can escape to the presence of what ever is playing the piece. I truly cannot hear what is going on around me so I can focus on the music and the emotional effect it has on me. I have some absolutely fantastic Bach on organ from the Cathedral at Notre Dame. Sometimes I need the words of some of my favorite worship songs, but again it is the ability to escape from my surroundings that makes it most enjoyable. If I choose to sing along, pitty the fool who is close by and does not know what I am doing. I have scared Andrea several times when she did not even know I was in the house and suddenly cut loose. There is no substitute for VERY loud oldies in the car. A very different escape, but escape all the same. Public loud allows a kind of celebration that solitude does not. My Keelin enjoys public loud, especially Beach Boys, it makes her think of the beach. She loves to sing whatever is on in the car. She is like her daddy in her ability to memorize songs after only a couple of plays. Then she can belt it out with everything she has. I cannot wait until she can join me in the music ministry at church.
To change the subject, watch this. In this month of Thanksgiving I encourage you to make an effort to reach back in your past and find someone who has made a difference in your life. Look them up, call them, e-mail them, write them a letter but do something to let them know how they made a difference in your life. I was able to track down the Choir Director from my high school in Pt. Mugu, CA. When I was in 8th grade he brought the high school choir to our school for a performance. Afterwards he invited anyone interested to audition for the choir for the next year. I took him up on it and during the next two years he opened up a world that I would have never known about without his leading. The grounding in music that I got from that high school choir set a foundation for music appreciation that has stayed with me all of my life. I am thankful to George Hamm of Oxnard, CA for what he put into my life. Drew, that may be you today. I hope so.
Uncle Westy, over and out.

Out’ta the past!
For Judy Bug!
Tried this last night but I couldn’t make it come out right. Forty year old memories can be a little fuzzy around the edges.
Summer of 1969 I was stationed at NAS Coronado for a school before going to Moffett Field and on to Hawaii. Mom and Dad came out to California for a reason I cannot remember except that it was probably an excuse to come to San Diego to see Nan and me too. Anyway, one night I got invited to dinner with Mom, Dad and Nan in Coronado. I don’t remember where we went, not part of the story. After dinner we went bar hopping ( I wasn’t 21 yet) and I didn’t get carded I’m assuming because I was with them. We wound up in a piano bar with me serenading everyone with the old standards (Sinatra, Martin, etc). I was very uncomfortable getting drunk with my parents and a woman who had fed me peanut butter and jelly since I was two. At some point they took me back to my barracks and I crashed. I don’t think I ever got to see your mom again after that. I shipped out to another school in Northern California and then went on to Barber’s Point, HI.
Like Ric (Zipidee), to think back on all the times we went places together as a crowd (we were our own crowd) and the fun we had. It is hard to think that all of that was MORE than 40 years ago. Those kinds of relationships just don’t go away. You will always be a part of my family. I do hope you get to come to Mom’s next summer. It would be fun to bring these stories up and let Mom fill in the details for us. For now,
Uncle Westy, over and out!

Veteran’s day 2009. I actually had a young woman say “thanks for your service” as we passed on the sidewalk this afternoon. She would not have known except that I decided to wear my Vietnam Veteran ball cap today. I thought I would wear it often when I bought it but I really don’t wear a cap very often and when I do it is usually for a ballgame (got that cap) or to play golf (got that cap). I considered wearing it to the VA when I go. I figured I would fit right in, and I would. As I got used to going and watching the guys that do wear their Viet Nam caps I came to realize that they wear them because 1. It gives them admission to the group and 2. It is the only identity they have. They never moved beyond where they were when they were in the service. Standing in the hall the discussions always go to “where were you in Nam?” “I took two hits in ’67, I ain’t been the same since.” “I lost most of my platoon in the Delta in ’68.”
I just haven’t wanted to join that club. I was “in country” a couple of times for a week at a time. I could hear artillery in the mountains west of the base but I never got fired on. I stayed appropriately scared while I was on the ground but as soon as we went wheels up I was safe and secure again.
These guys have nightmares I can only imagine. While they are quite literally the walking wounded, they also blame that time in their life for everything in their life that has come up short of what they would have liked or perhaps saw good happen to someone else. They got the short end of the draft numbers and it was downhill from there.
While the hallways at VA are full of the guys noted above there are plenty of guys that went on with life when they got home. I have a friend named Henry that I met in occupational therapy at VA. Henry “nearly had my arm blowd off” in 1968. He came home, went to work for the State motorpool as a mechanic and retired there several years ago. He has a family, a farm, children and grandchildren and uses VA to help keep him mobile. He has trouble with his arm from time to time and needs some therapy. He went to Nam to do his duty. Lots of guys didn’t come home, he thinks he did ok. Amen, Henry.
As a result of having been “in country” I have qualified for a number of Veteran’s Administration benefits as a result of having been exposed to Agent Orange. The VA has granted me disability status that gets me front of the line privileges at VA hospitals and a disability income that was once “nice” but is now necessity. I was certainly no hero. I joined the Navy because I didn’t want to be a land soldier and I had some idea of what to expect in the Navy. I served proudly. ‘Got a few medals I am real proud of and when my turn was over I came home and went to school and got on with life. There are hundreds of thousands like me who are just proud to still be here. If I was a drinking man I would offer up a toast to the guys who did the hard part. Semper Fi, and Following Seas.
UncleWesty, over and out.