Talk About A Ghost From Christmas Past

I really hate the fact that I have begun to think in the terms of my elders, but at times they have it too right to ignore. It takes a certain kind of lowlife douchebag to steal property which belongs to others, no matter their reasoning or justifications. There’s something broken within their morality meter which allows them to cross the forbidden line between right and wrong. Yesterday I was reminded that many laws are designed to better protect the criminal than the victims. Yesterday I received a letter from the state of Texas which informed me that Mr. Lowlife Douchebag III (his real name will never be spoken by my lips here) is scheduled for release from state incarceration in November 2014 after successfully meeting state parole requirements. Why is this information important to me personally? I will explain that in a minute since the incident happened back in this blogs literal infancy and I have never mentioned it here before in any kind of detail.

Late in the evening seven years, nine months, and three days or 2,834 days ago, we were settling down after just returning from a get together with my in-laws. After looking at the time, we had realized it will be Christmas Day in a few short hours. When we came in the house for the first time our hands were full, so after setting down all the food and bags, I returned to the truck to get the everything else. It was at this time I first noticed wet foot prints on the driveway and an out of place shadow where they ended at just the edge of where the light reached. I continued to the driver’s side of the truck, opened the door, reached into the center console, and retrieved my pistol. I remained bent across the seat, looking out behind me, waiting for movement. After a very long couple of minutes, I climbed back out of the truck and walked to the edge of the drive, and then I saw the shadow blink. Before I knew what was happening I had this man pinned to the ground with a pistol pointed at his forehead. Many moments passed while I stared into the eyes of this man, many thoughts passed in my mind, and then my wife’s voice broke the silence. Hearing the noise she came out, thinking I had dropped something or tripped. I will never forget the look of fear on her face as she looked in our direction. She went back inside swiftly and called 911.

It was thirteen minutes from the time she made the call before I saw the flashing lights come blazing up the driveway. The two cars pulled very close to where I was standing, four officers emerged and stood behind their open doors with weapons drawn, demanding I relinquish my weapon. I froze, I am the one who is making sure the douchebag does not run. I was confused. Moments later I was on the ground, I was rushed from behind, I can hear my wife screaming at them in terror. All I can think is it is Christmas Eve. We were both arrested. I was released early Christmas morning after being cleared of any criminal activity and establishing myself as home and property owner. After processing, my pistol was released back into my custody. Months later he was convicted of attempted armed robbery, armed trespassing after dark with intent to cause harm to persons and property, and finally with the possession of a stolen firearm.

The number one question I have been asked is why I did not shoot and kill this man because the right to do so with my actions protected by Texas laws. Why? Why is a powerful question. My answer has always been simple and has always remained unchanged. Shooting him to kill him never crossed my mind, never even close. It’s not my nature, no matter what, a human life is more valuable to me than things or property, and, eventhough I felt threatened, there was other options which I executed which defused the threat. In the end, I have a conscience which seems to always guide my actions. Yes, I was and remain to this day, mad. The lessons I have learned in my life have served me well and they have taught me that I am not the judge or jury, but just a human being on planet dirt trying to scratch out some kind of a life, like everyone else I can only assume. As far as his release, it isn’t my place to know if he is rehabilitated or not in the allotted time prescribed by the state of Texas. I do know, this experience was a part of the reason I have the security system I still use this very day. I may have lost faith along the way in my fellow humans, but at the same time the safety and security of myself and my family remains very high on my personal list if priorities. Its hard to say live and let live when the idea is more often than not, one sided. Below is a general look at the laws here in Texas, it should not be looked at or taken as any form of legal advice as I put it here for informational purposes only.

Texas law allows a person to use force in the protection of property to prevent or terminate another’s trespass or other unlawful interference with the possession of real or personal property. Deadly force can be used in Texas when the crime against property is classified as arson, burglary, robbery, criminal mischief at night or theft at night. Deadly force may also be used to prevent a person from fleeing with property immediately after the commission of a burglary, robbery, aggravated robbery, or theft during the nighttime if the actor believes that the property cannot be recovered by any other means or the use of force other than deadly force would expose the person to a substantial risk of death or serious bodily injury.

Texas also allows a person to use force and deadly force to protect the personal property of a third party. The use of force is permissible if the person believes that the force or deadly force is necessary to prevent the commission of theft or criminal mischief, or if the person believes that the third party has asked them to protect the property, the person has a legal duty to protect the property, or the third party is the spouse, parent, child or under the care of the person using force.

Born, raised, and protected by guns, guts, and glory.

On This Day In 1968……….

…………… there was a baby boy born to a mother who would never see him, never hold him, and never be a part of his life. It was on this day that this baby boy was giving the chance to live a life. It was on this day that a boy took in his first breath and was given the beginning of the rest of his life. I am thankful everyday for that first breath I was granted the opportunity to take. Look at it like this, she could have swallowed, he could have pulled out, or she could have aborted her pregnancy at any time. Luckily, she chose the adoption option and soon after the world was granted the opportunity to witness my presence. You see, we are all equally lucky. So, enough of the heavy shit everyone has heard before. I am here because she made the right choice back in 1968.

I will be the first person to admit that I’m the person y’all hear about that is so hard to buy birthday presents for. Why? Simply because I don’t ask for anything, ever. Why? Because if I want something I save up for it and go buy it. Generally it isn’t for my self tho, it’s usually for other people. I don’t buy my self much. When I ask for something it is utilitarian, like underwear, socks, and stuff like that. After having the same cell phone for 4 years I finally upgraded and replaced it will a fancy new one. I did this a week or so ago, my own birthday present to myself and I said it just like that. I told my wife and kids that I would buy my own present this year so don’t bother. You know women tho, they rarely listen when the man is talking….. lol.

Somewhere during the course of the last year I mentioned two things “in passing”, meaning it was random and out of the blue, which were that I wanted to pick up the new KISS Monster cd, yes I wrote cd, I like cds. The other thing was a tablet because my laptop crapped out and I don’t want to spend the money to get another one, so a tablet seemed reasonable. But, like life itself, other expenses always come first because the cost of “living” is sometimes more than I bring home. So, as mentioned, they were fleeting comments not really meant to be taken as a hint or anything. But, my wife and kids took note, because like I said, I don’t generally ask for stuff, I just get it when I want it. In the end I was happily surprised and really glad they were paying attention because I had completely forgot about both of them.

Unfortunately I’m working today (right now to be exact) but I will be heading home later tonight and that will be perfect. I will be cooking my own dinner, grilling actually, since when asked what I wanted I wanted steaks. So, my mother-out-law provided me with steaks, potatoes, and some tequila for me to use tonight. The tequila will be for margaritas by the way. After we eat I plan on soaking my bones in the hot tub, rain or no rain, matters not to me, I like to relax and soak my bones. Today I work (or do this) and when I get off the party will just get kicked off. Hell, what am I saying, I live like it’s my birthday everyday. My kids tell me it is a special day to celebrate. I always reply that I celebrate the start of every day with that first recognizable breath, it’s a beautiful day each time I wake up. I won’t deny I’m lucky to be here, but aren’t we all.

…………And Out Of The Rubble

And on Sunday 03 March 2013 I woke up and everything I had created in my virtual world was in a pile of rubble and in ruins. It was a Sunday morning not unlike many before. I was up around 4 in the morning, took my medications, checked my blood sugar, took my blood pressure, poured me a big glass of Diet Mt. Dew, and headed out to the deck to smoke a few cigarettes while I checked e-mail and such. At first I thought my Wi-Fi was crapping out because I couldn’t get into my Google e-mail account or any of my blogs. It seemed really random and innocent at first but after I reset my Wi-Fi I was experiencing the same results, my e-mail of close to 9 years and my blogs were all just gone, they didn’t exist anymore. I won’t lie, I went into pure adrenalin panic mode. After the initial shock set in I began looking into the matter and had found that there were no survivors, indeed the IYAAYAS Moderator has flat-lined and can now be pronounced DOA. If it was connected to or associated with my IYAAYAS Moderator Google account it no longer existed, everything has vanished into thin air. Unfortunately the things that vanished were my Pinterest account, my Tumblr account, and of course my Google account which governed my e-mail and all of my blogs. Out of everything the biggest disappointment and loss for me was of course my IYAAYAS Moderator blog and my Bartender Stories blog. Those two blogs I actually put allot of blood, sweat, and tears into. Everything else was for fun or done out of boredom. Neither here nor there, they were all gone. I did happen to have 2 survivors in the whole collapse, my Facebook account and my Blogcatalog account. Both of which had to be re-vamped and re-coordinated with a new e-mail address. And I must mention that the Admin over at Blogcatalog were very accommodating to my needs and the changes I needed/wanted to make. I can’t thank them all enough.

Fortunately for me I was already in the process of re-discovering who I wanted to represent and how I wanted to represent myself, my blogs, and other pages I contributed to and built. I had already given birth to Scorpion Sting Productions and it was to be the mother of all that was created afterwords. But, not being a computer geek (no offense) by any stretch of the words I was sort of at a loss of how to “move” everything, rename everything, and basically “rebrand” myself and what I had to offer. I don’t state that like I actually have something great to offer but I did have a following that I didn’t want to lose or alienate. So, in an ass-backwards way of thinking about it, Google did me a favor because it scrapped everything and made me sit back and consider if I wanted to move forward or just toss in the towel and quit. Truth be told, I was leaning towards quitting because the juggling act was becoming allot like work. But, I wasn’t done yet, I wasn’t ready to quit, I still had much to say about many things. Writing was and actually is fun to me. I like the outlet my blog(s) provide. I like being able to share my thoughts on the world that surrounds all of us. Plus, I still have stories and I still live a life so I will most likely always have an opinion of sorts. I was ready to go big because I was not ready to go home. Granted, I did have to contend with Google handing me my own ass and giving me an opportunity to start fresh. But, I can’t say I really started fresh because I never changed, I am still me, and I still had much to do. Just, at this point, it was decide what, if anything, I could salvage. With the help of people at Blogcatalog and on Facebook I was pointed in a direction to find some of my prior blogs but most of the information was sketchy and incomplete at best. But I wanted to start fresh, I didn’t want to re-build what I had, so I created an Archive blogs to house all the relics I found and wanted on display. The evolution of that page will most likely remain unchanged as it stands today. It has what I could salvage and put up so people could read the old published posts if the wanted to.

It didn’t require much brain power to come up with The Sting Of The Scorpion. For me it was a very obvious choice since I wanted to incorporate the scorpion in my blogs, in my e-mail, and in my presence. I was asked once why I like scorpions and I am drawn to a story I was told by my deceased father many years ago. The story goes that a scorpion was on the bank of a river and desired to get to the other side. The scorpion knows he cannot swim and would not survive an attempt and would be lost in a watery grave. He searched high and low for an option and then a crocodile presented itself. The scorpion got the idea to ask the crocodile for a lift across the river. The crocodile agreed to the trip but was a little worried carrying a scorpion. The scorpion assured the crocodile that he was very safe. About halfway across the river the crocodile felt the sting of the scorpion and screamed out to the scorpion asking why he stung him because now they will both die. The scorpion replied by telling the crocodile that to sting is the nature of the scorpion. It fits me, not only because I’m a Scorpio, but because it seems to be the way I live my life. I tend to fuck up things for no good reason other than it was there to be fucked up. Now, with age comes a little wisdom based on past experiences. I know now not to bite the hand that feeds me (and my family) as well as not stinging those who I depend upon for my survival. The Sting Of The Scorpion is an oxymoron of sorts since a scorpion isn’t to be trusted because of it’s sting but everything else just bites. Neither here nor there, when the dust settled and the rubble was cleared The Sting Of The Scorpion was born. Or re-born however you choose to look at it. I am, and always will be, just me, myself, and I. I don’t offer anything spectacular, I just offer somewhat of a glimpse of my world and my life. I’m not much different than you, I just chose to speak my mind and be who I am.

I just like to have fun with my blogs, which is what I was doing before they all got iced. Perhaps I was having too much fun. But, that is in the past, I think I have rebuilt nicely (in my own opinion), and I continue to have fun. Granted, my tastes are not that of everyone. For that I have never apologized and I never will apologize. Love me or hate me I am still me and that can never be destroyed. After some work, my new blog was born under the name The Sting Of The Scorpion and it went live somewhere around 14 March 2013. At first I was worried about all the fans and followers I had lost and then I got to thinking about it and decided to just let the past be the past. I moved on and now I have found that I am moving even more in a forward direction than I could have ever hoped for. I had and still have great support for my blogs. For some reason people keep coming back and keep reading. Personally, I bore myself, which is why I “talk” on my blog. Might as well share, right? I learned that nothing is safe and there really isn’t a comfort zone. Everyone is always a target for one reason or another. Oh, I almost forgot about my haters. In the beginning I started a Hate Mail blog because of all the weird bullshit people would write to me about. It was funny to me so I wanted to share. That blog has since been retired because it became a total bore. Hate me, who gives a fuck. On the flip side, I get allot of fan mail which is very encouraging because I do not consider myself to have any special writing skills. I do, however, like to tell stories and report on what I see, how I see it. I guess, in the end, if you would like to see what I have done with the place feel free to follow a few links. If you like me, join me. I always like hearing from everyone which is why I have my contact information plastered everywhere. Use it at your discretion.

In the end I think its best to say that my sole purpose in life isn’t to offend people. Offending people seems to be a bi-product of what I do. I can’t help it and it doesn’t look like that will change anytime soon. If you are left with any questions I suppose I should point you to the information posted in my Disclaimer page and that should fill in the gaps. I am here to do what I do, whatever that may be. I hope y’all enjoy your stay and look forward to your safe return. I try, really I do, to keep all of my blogs updating on a regular basis. Just remember, life sometimes gets in my way.

And yes, my spellchecker is broken and I like it that way.

Racers Aren’t Born

My son Jackson welcomes this newest addition to the Jackzilla Racing family. Tuesday he turned 12 and we surprised him with his very own brand spanking new remote controlled (r/c) truck. Over the last couple of years he has been practicing and training using trucks of mine that I have been collecting over the years. He has become an impressive driver and we decided it was time to give me back my old used trucks and give him an updated upgrade. Personally I think we hit the nail on the head. I had to pry it out of his hands to bring it to work the following day because a friend wanted a demonstration. He is thinking about getting his son a r/c truck and had no clue on where to start. It also gave me the perfect opportunity to take a few pictures before the body got too terribly thrashed.

 

I plan on having our r/c track completed by the end of the August at the latest. I fear that upon it’s completion that we may never see him again, ever. My neighbor asked why I was building a r/c track in my back yard a few months ago. I laughed and then answered “why not”. Why not indeed. We need a place to tear up that is close and cheap. I’m tired of paying track fees and driving so far to race on good tracks. So, I’m bringing the track home. I will write a post here in the near future and throw in a few pictures. My wife has me considering opening the track to the “general public”. There would be some logistical problems tho as the track is in my back yard. We’ll have to see.

 

My wife asked where a boy’s interest in racing anything with wheels comes from. I had to think about it because it is, however, somewhat of a complex question in itself. Obviously, racers aren’t born. Many will disagree with me of course. I have heard it all before. People say “he was born with gasoline in his veins” or “he was born to race” or “racing is in his blood”. I will give it all one thing, their are people born with natural racing skills and there are people that are not. Those in between are the ones the world is actually made up of. It’s made up of kids with an interest and a dream, everything else is practice, practice, practice. Take me for an example. I grew up around the “toys” of my father. He had the r/c planes, the motorcycles, the fast cars, the hot rod boats, and of course, the ultralights which were his passion. Fortunately I was rarely told no. Fortunately I had a dad who wanted to share his toys with me. What did this do for me? It helped make me very practiced in many different things, most of all it taught me how to work with my hands, and it also taught me how to be my own mechanic.

 

Now, take my son for example. He has learned from a very early age the importance of being able to diagnose and fix problems. He has also learned that there isn’t always a solution for every problem. Some things are just meant to be a mystery. He is with me most of the time when I’m not at work. I enjoy him being with me and doing things with me, no matter what it is we are doing. I think he likes being with me also, even when we are doing nothing at all. He took an interest early on in my r/c trucks because they hung on the wall of my shop like the heads of dead animals. One day he asked to see one with his hands, he wanted to touch it, smell it, and see it up close. I figured it can’t hurt. Well, it took off from there. I have gas and electric r/c cars, some worked and some died years ago. I made a deal with him that if he could get one of the “dead” ones back to having a pulse again and get it breathing again that I would buy replacement parts if needed. I wasn’t interested in throwing money into something that would never have the heart to race again. He did it, not really to my surprise because if someone was going to be able to figure it out it was going to be him. I had three that were dead, one gas and two electric, and now they belong to my son who races them frequently. Time went by and I could see his interest has grown so we decided to take the plunge and get him his very own r/c truck.

 

I see already that I will need to install some stadium style lighting at our little backyard track because for the last couple of nights he has been out racing his new r/c truck by moonlight. Only time will tell.

All pictures provided in this post were taken by me and are the exclusive property of me. If you were thinking of visiting the website found on the front fenders of this truck you will be very disappointed as it is a fictitious website which was used for the purpose of graphic display only. You won’t find anything there except a blank non-existent page.

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