After taking 3 and a half months off from this blog, I wrote here again on Jan. 20th....that's probably a good thing, cuz I gotta get some shit off my chest... Sorry. - Echo 4 Kilo
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There's a particular picture frame hanging on the wall in my old man's place that I was reminded of tonight. Not totally unlike the others, this collage only comes to mind because of the photo of a young, carrot-topped, freckle-faced kid. I don't know how old I am exactly in said "happy snappy" but I can't be any bigger than knee high to a grasshopper.
I suppose it's probably hung there for much longer than I've noticed but I never really paid much attention to it until about 7 or 8 years ago. And by now, I've looked at this one little studio portrait well over a hundred times. Ya see, I just can't walk past it anymore without stopping and recognizing the resemblance between me and my son, Logan.
I know that it's no shocker that a boy might look like his dad, but honestly, it's sometimes a real stretch convincing someone that the orange hair and freckles from that 70's pic could really be a ringer for my youngest and luckily, better looking offspring. Others might notice a few similarities but for whatever reason, this is the picture that does it for me.
This is the picture that reminds me that my boy is cast from the same mold that I was. This picture is proof to me that Logan's broad shoulders and barrel chest (polite way of talking about the belly) are not just a minor coincidence but rather evidence of genetics and lineage.
Logan's fishing prowess has been written about here before. His love of hockey and the outdoors has been documented on this blog more than once. Besides bloodlines, he and I share a lot of things.
And that's what scares me tonight.
My 8 year old son knows more about weapons safety than your average Joe. He's been brought up with guns in the house and therefor, I have insisted that he understand the 4 safety rules.
1.) Treat every weapon as if it were loaded.
2.) Never point a weapon at anything you do not intend to shoot.
3.) Keep finger straight and off the trigger until you are ready to fire.
4.) Keep weapon on safe until you intend to fire.
From early on I have always told him that when he wants to see the firearms in the house, all he has to do is ask. We've covered situations and scenarios time and time again. He saved for and bought a .410 shotgun when he turned 6. Shortly thereafter he set out a plan to by his first rifle - a .22 Cricket. Let me tell you, this kid can shoot. But he's disciplined and understands that the guns we own are not toys. We tote them in the woods and we fire them at the range because I want him to be comfortable with yet maintain that ultimate level of responsibility and respect that comes with arming yourself.
I'm not talking a stand for the NRA and the Second Amendment here. Nor am I bragging about my pint sized sharpshooter. I only talk about his interest in guns as another example of our similarities. It's there that I begin to waver. I want Logan to become his own man. I want him to experience life on his own path. I made many a mistake on this rocky road and am sure that the kid can and will benefit from writing his own destiny not repeating mine.
Let's cut to the chase...
Tonight I finally got my wife out to see the film "American Sniper". I know war flicks are not Michele's "cup of tea" but I felt a calling to see this movie. Apparently millions of others have felt that same calling because Clint's docu-drama is setting the Box Office on fire. I was familiar with the story of Navy SEAL Chris Kyle and as enough folks talked on social media about their experience with the movie, Michele became aware that there was a possibility of some real emotions tied to this one. As we walked in to the cinema she even asked me, "Am I gonna cry or are you?"
Me.
I cried.
A lot.
Fuck Off.
Each firefight took me through oddly different physiological reactions. I clenched. I fidgeted. My breathing changed. I suppressed the urge to blurt out more than once. At one point, my entire right arm felt locked against my side. My palms got sweaty. I tried to play it cool. Tried to remember that I was in a podunk movie theater, a million miles from "the Suck". At times I reached out just to touch Michele's leg, just enough to pull me back to Earth.
Just a movie - I know, right?
Fuck Off.
Bottom line = good film, a bit of Hollywood as you can expect,plenty of realism. I'm no film critic...Just throwing in my 2 cents. I'll re-watch it again someday. Not anytime soon though. Kyle and everyone else that's ever honorably "laced them up" are the backbone of what makes this country so great. Period. If you don't feel the same way, Fuck Off.
And for that I am very proud to have earned the title, United State Marine....but that brings me back to my story of the littlest Kirby that lives in this house.
We affectionately call him "the Bear."
Make no mistake, I love all 3 of my children. Beautiful, intelligent, talented, caring and loving - words that I proudly use to describe all three. So much alike yet wonderfully different, each in their very own way.
But tonight I got scared a little. The movie, "American Sniper" brought out an emotion that I've not paid much attention to. After the flick took me on an emotional roller coaster, I drove away with tears streaming down my face and all I could think of was whether or not Logan is a SheepDog.
Will he, one day, stand up and say that he's willing to do what others aren't? I've seen firsthand some of the ugliness portrayed in this movie. Years ago, I stood in the belly of the beast. I walked that patrol. I've been prepared to defend my country against all enemies both foreign and domestic. I know the World has some very dark places and tonight I think I realized that I don't want Logan, Emma, Tyler or any more of my loved ones to have to learn that the way I did
But the choice is no longer mine...and that's, I think, what scared me tonight. I'm scared that Logan is a SheepDog and will someday sign that dotted line.
Maybe not - I'll love him just the same.
Echo 4 Kilo - Out
Side note : Metallica Fans???
Remember the old movie clips in "ONE"? They were from the movie "Johnny Got His Gun". Very vividly, I remember the scene where little Joe asks his Dad,
"When it comes my turn, will you want me to go?"

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