A date which will live in infamy…

Today marks the 70th anniversary of the Japanese attack on the US Pacific Fleet at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii. The devastating attack led America directly into WWII after years of ignoring what was happening in Europe and then helping our allies without “technically” being involved by providing them materiel via the Lend-Lease program.

But on this day, seventy years ago, Japan dragged the United States kicking and screaming into a two theaters war that would last until the final surrender on the deck of the U.S.S. Missouri in 1945. It was a war that would span the globe, be fought on many continents and two main theaters. It was a war that brought the US together in a way that has never been seen again. It brought us into the nuclear age and showed us the devastation that we were capable of.It was fought by what’s been dubbed as “The Greatest Generation”, whether they fought on the battlefield, on the sea or in the air. Some fought by building the airplanes, tanks, guns, bombs and other necessities of war. Others fought by buying war bonds and it was at time when “Support our Troops” meant so much more than a yellow magnet on the back of your mini-van.

On 8th December, 1945, President Franklin D. Roosevelt gave this famous speech, urging the declaration of war:

Yesterday, Dec. 7, 1941 – a date which will live in infamy – the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.

The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with the government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific.

Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleagues delivered to the Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message. While this reply stated that it seemed useless to continue the existing diplomatic negotiations, it contained no threat or hint of war or armed attack.

It will be recorded that the distance of Hawaii from Japan makes it obvious that the attack was deliberately planned many days or even weeks ago. During the intervening time, the Japanese government has deliberately sought to deceive the United States by false statements and expressions of hope for continued peace.

The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. Very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.

Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam.

Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands.

Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island.

This morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island.

Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area. The facts of yesterday speak for themselves. The people of the United States have already formed their opinions and well understand the implications to the very life and safety of our nation.

As commander in chief of the Army and Navy, I have directed that all measures be taken for our defense.

Always will we remember the character of the onslaught against us.

No matter how long it may take us to overcome this premeditated invasion, the American people in their righteous might will win through to absolute victory.

I believe I interpret the will of the Congress and of the people when I assert that we will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but will make very certain that this form of treachery shall never endanger us again.

Hostilities exist. There is no blinking at the fact that our people, our territory and our interests are in grave danger.

With confidence in our armed forces – with the unbounding determination of our people – we will gain the inevitable triumph – so help us God.

I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, Dec. 7, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire.

So today, even if only briefly, take a moment to think about your grandparents. No matter where they are from, it’s highly likely that they were affected by World War II in some way. Think about those who died, the soldiers, the civilians, the six million Jews who were killed in Nazi concentration camps, or simply shot in the streets or in the forests, buried in mass graves or burned in large furnaces.

Think of the millions killed by the Japanese across Asia. Estimates of civilians killed by the Japanese range anywhere from 5.5 Million to over 20 million.

Think about those people the next time someone says war never solved anything. Going to war stopped the total extermination of the Jewish people. War stopped the German military and Adolph Hitler from taking over ALL of Europe. War brought freedom back to the people who lived in German occupied countries like France, Belgium, Holland. War stopped the Japanese march through China, Malaysia, the Philippines and thousands of other places in the Pacific theater, preventing the torture and murder of millions more civilians.

War is not a thing to be taken lightly, but despite cries for peace, sometimes fighting is the only way so end an evil act, After all, who’s more evil? The evil-doer, or the person that allows the evil to be done without trying to stop it?

Barbeque Shrimp – Better than wings for football day!

I have a certain ritual reserved for Football Day, that magical day each week in the fall when I get to watch Virginia Tech or another favored team play the noble game of Football. The ritual involves, usually, a beer or three, chips and salsa, hummus and rice crackers and most important of all: buffalo wings.

I’ve gotten wings down to a science, fried just so long in peanut oil, not vegetable oil, for that extra crispness. Sauced using a special blend of off the shelf sauces I keep in a secret location. Dipped in a nice, chunky bleu cheese dressing… Mmmm, delicious!

And today would have been the same, were it not for a chance encounter at Bella Donna Pizzaria the other night when Dana and I went out for some delicious Italian. Turns out that Al, the Shrimp Guy, was in town with another load of massive Gulf shrimp, fresh from the docks.

As we were headed out, Al and Donna offered some shrimp that Al had cooked up on the fly in a manner I’d not tried before. It’s called Barbecue shrimp, and as Al pointed out, has nothing to do with Barbecues as we think of them. His version was so good that when Football Day came this week, I decided to try some for myself instead. So here’s the recipe I made up based on some Googling and learning that there is no actual recipe, everyone has their own.


  • 2 pounds jumbo or large shrimp, fresh, shell on, not frozen
  • 1 stick of real, salted butter, not that margarine crap
  • 1/2 bottle of beer (I used a Chimay Trappiste Ale)
  • 1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
  • 2 tablespoons lemon juice
  • 3 teaspoons Cayenne pepper
  • 3 teaspoons basil leaves
  • 2 teaspoons Old Bay
  • Tobasco to taste


  • Rinse off shrimp and pat dry
  • Melt butter in a large skillet on medium high heat
  • Add rest of ingredients and mix well
  • Stir constantly until mix starts to boil
  • Add shrimp to mix
  • Cook shirmp until good and pink, about 4 – 5 minutes per side.
  • Remove shrimp and place in a large, wide bowl (think Pasta bowl)
  • Continue stirring mix until about half the liquid remains
  • Pour mix over shrimp, let them cool just a bit, peel, eat and enjoy!

And that’s just one of literally thousands of variations, and it was delicious 🙂

Safety Note: I strongly advise that, when eating, you be careful when peeling shrimp. I accidentally squirted some of the mix into my eye while peeling one particularly fat shrimp, and given the amount of lemon and hot pepper in the juice, that’s a rather uncomfortable experience, to say the least..

You should never bypass that cozy gas station…

Not too long ago, before Hurricane Irene passed through, I was at my parent’s place in Calabash, NC for a weekend of relaxing and riding around with some of my firefighter friends down in Myrtle Beach. Sunday came and it was time to head home, but my plans to leave by 10 AM fell way through because of a line of storms that rolled in… nasty storms… the kind with sideways rain. So I sat until 3PM when the storms finally passed, and the sky was absolutely GORGEOUS… perfectly blue, white puffy clouds, sunny, everything looked clean after a fresh washing.

The plan was to head up NC-87 to Fayetteville, home of Fort Bragg, the 82nd Airborne and Special Operations. It’s the way I normally head to and from the beach from my home farther inland, and until I got just north of Whiteville, everything was going well. By the time I reached Whiteville and headed north towards 87, I noticed a large, vast darkness in the sky ahead. I was heading right into a storm line.

Being the judicious person I am, I elected to turn my happy butt around and head right back to Whiteville. The storm line I saw on the horizon was all north of me, directly in my line of travel, but everything south of me all the way to the west was clear, blue and peaceful. So back to Whiteville I went and picked up I-74 headed west toward Charlotte, smug in knowing I was skirting the south edge of that storm, nice and dry.

And that’s about when things went pear shaped…

I was cruising along I-74 at about 70, and just enjoying the ride, which is odd because I really don’t like riding the Volusia that fast… it vibrates a lot more than my dad’s VTX1800C at highway speeds, and while I don’t have a problem with slipstream from other vehicles, it can be tiring being buffeted at those speeds. Personally, on my Volusia, I prefer a nice, sedate 55 or so at the most, it’s comfy and I can actually enjoy the ride and scenery, instead of the constant madness that is riding at interstate speeds. As I looked further and further ahead I noticed, to my dismay, that the sky ahead was dark.

And not just dark, but an angry, forbidding black. The kind of dark you see on the weather channel. And if you live in the Piedmont or Sandhills of North Carolina for any length of time, especially along the i-95 Corridor where weather is violent and wildly unpredictable, you know exactly what a dark, angry sky means. But I was SO close to the next town… only about 15 miles away. I was sure I could make it to Lumberton before the rain started falling and hole up in a nice restaurant for a while.

And that thought was in my mind as I passed the gas station. And that thought was in my mind as I simultaneously noted that there were about 10 bikes parked under the roof protecting the gas pumps. And that was the thought in my mind as I passed the sign that indicated I was only 12 miles from Lumberton. And that thought was in my mind when the first rain drops fell, big and fat from the pregnant sky.

And then that thought ceased completely. It was if someone had suddenly flipped the UNHOLY RAIN switch to ON. One minute there was just a few drops, the next it was coming down so bad that I couldn’t see more than 15 – 20 feet ahead of me. My windshield coated in a sheet of water, my glasses coated, everything in star-bursts and blurs. And the wind, oh the wind.

First I’d get hit by a 40 mph gust from the left, and immediately an equally strong one would hit from the right. I found myself being pushed all over the road, through the inch of standing water; water from a rainfall so heavy that the road couldn’t shed it all in time. And then I realized that I should have just stopped at the gas station, the ONLY gas station on 74 for miles around instead of simply noting it and thinking “I’ve only got a few miles to go.”

I slowed to a crawl at this point, unable to ride more than 20 MPH safely, blind, hit by howling winds, large fat rain drops, and then hail. Bad hail. Big hail, nickel sized and bouncing off of me, the road, my helmet. And hail in a storm with violently shifting winds is a bad sign. A very bad sign. So I pulled to a stop and took a moment to throw on my rain suit to at least keep SOME of me dry as I desperately made for the gas station I should never have passed.

The ride back to the gas station, that glorious haven was as harrowing as the ride into one of the worst storm fronts I’ve seen all year. Instead of riding into it, I was being chased by it as it moved east, hunting me. I was blown all over the place, pelted with hail, drenched in rain. The cages were all around, unable to see me and I unable to see them until I was almost right on top of them. It was, in a word, dangerous and could get deadly fast.

But finally relief was in sight. The sign for the gas station, green, gold and glowing with high powered lighting was a beacon, a grail shaped beacon leading me to shelter. And then I was turning across the oncoming lane and pulling into the parking lot. And then I was pulling under the roof alongside 10 Harleys and a couple Customs. The leader of the pack that had parked there before smiled and nodded to me and said “did you get wet?”

I had a great time there at the gas station. We were there for just a little over 2 hours, during which time I drank coffee and soda, ate barely edible chicken tenders with anonymous dipping sauce. We had each other for company. They were just out for a group joy ride when the sky started darkening, and smartly, they pulled in ahead of the storm.

“I saw you ride past and I thought you’d be back pretty soon,” the leader said, and he was right. He knew what I should have known before hand: You should never bypass that cozy gas station.

It was a good thing I did at least turn back. Later, the area around the pumps was full, bumper to bumper as this storm was so bad even the cars were coming in off the road, seeking shelter. One set of girls in their 20s stood sobbing, shaking with us as they told us about driving straight into a funnel cloud, being spun in circles before finally coming to rest on the shoulder facing the wrong direction. The thunder was loud like artillery, the hail was thick and the rain came almost in literal sheets. The winds whipped in all directions at once and we stayed.

Eventually, as they do, the storm passed on leaving yet again a beautiful sky ahead. The leader of the pack of Harleys and customs invited me to ride with them for a bit as we were heading in the same direction. So I filed in swing as we all pulled out, one loud thunderous parade giving our collective fingers to the monster that had just ran us over.

Around the world with Monkey

I’m currently sitting in the United Airlines Red Carpet Club between terminals C and D at Philly. Why am I here? How did I even get here? Well, the story is rather droll, but it has seen me travel half way around the world, and back on a 2 week Magical Mystery Tour.

It started out with just a trip to Dublin, Ireland for a Sprint with my company. Sprints are just events were the teams get together in one location to work our asses off together and to generally associate physically. Typically, most of us work from our homes, so this interaction is essential to make sure we all remember that we’re all part of a company together, and we’re all on the same teams.

So, off to Dublin I was to go. Until Business came to be. We ended up with a Certification engagement (that’s what I do, Hardware Certification) for a major OEM in Taiwan. The only trick was that it had to be done by the end of June and we had no employees in our office on the 46th floor of the amazing Taipei 101 building.

Naturally, I quickly volunteered to go, because, to be honest, no on else wants to fly that far, and I LOVE Taipei. I absolutely love Taipei. I’ll post more on that later as I recount the tale of Monkey.

So my 1 week in Dublin became a 2 week trip around the world… mostly. Unfortunately, my travel agency decided it would be cheaper, and therefore better for the company, if I flew back and forth through the US. So my travel looks something like this:

RDU, Raleigh, NC -> IAD, Washington, D.C. -> NRT, Tokyo, Japan ->
TPE, Taipei, Taiwan -> NRT, Tokyo, Japan -> SFO, San Francisco, CA ->
PHL, Philadelphia, PA -> EWR, Newark, NJ -> DUB, Dublin, Ireland ->
EWR, Newark, NJ -> RDU, Raleigh, NC.

As you can see, that’s 11 airports in aggregate over 2 weeks, over 25,000 miles flown, and a LOT of door to door time. For example, Door to Door from my hotel in Taipei to my overnight hotel in Philly: 28 hours. I’m now in PHL waiting on my flight to EWR and eventually Dublin.

So that’s where I am, in the middle of my Odyssey around the world. I’m exhausted, but elated. I really do like the travel. I do. I’ve seen a lot of amazing places since starting my job, and I’m grateful for it. So I’ll start posting more about both my job and my travels shortly.

For now, I’m just working through another beer, getting ready to head to yet another gate to yet another foreign land. Ireland… land of Beer and Whiskey and gorgeous girls with green eyes and sensual accents… And pie. I must mention Pie… mmmm Pie…

And we’re back…

So recently, my hosting company suffered the Trifecta of Pain, which, using the philosophy of Excrement Moving According to the Laws of Gravity, my entire site was lost, and because I had grown lazy and stopped making full backups, was otherwise unrecoverable.

As stated in the offline message, this is a tragedy of comic proportions. Nothing I can do about it, so shaking my fist in anger at the sky is not going to change things. So I chose to look at this as a new opportunity. A chance to actually re-build from scratch, start over, and take a new look at things.

The archives may still exist out there, but here is all new and shiny. Now on with the show…