My Open Letter to President George W Bush dated 1/20/20909

Posted on July 7, 2014 by anthonyhubble

In honor of the President’s birthday I am re-printing an open letter I posted when he passed on the watch in 2009. Not much more to say other than how much more I admire him since that day.

Dear Mr. President,
Thank you for your service to our great country! You have served under one of the most difficult times in our nation’s history. It is easy to judge and critique your administration from the comfort of our armchairs, but the decisions of leadership are always shouldered by the ones sitting in the leadership chair. You have never shirked that duty and I know that your decisions were always governed by what you felt was best for this country. I know this to be true. Whether I agreed with them or not, your decisions were selfless, noble and honorably driven. I never had to question your motives. It is obvious to me that you were not concerned with popular opinion or your historic legacy. You did the job I hired you to do.
I want to specifically thank you for keeping this nation safe from attack since September 11, 2001.You said two things in the days following that I have kept with me. In speaking to the Terrorists you looked directly into the camera and said “You are now the focus of my administration.”And “I will not relent in waging this struggle for freedom and security of the American people”. In those two things you have never wavered.. For that I will be eternally grateful.
You have been the target of some of the most despicable and cowardly attacks I have witnessed ever heaped on a sitting president. The personal invective of these attacks was unprecedented. The culmination of which was a physical attack in a country you, ironically, made freedom possible enough to be able to conduct that type of protest. You handled all those with enviable grace and class, never going on the attack yourself, regardless how despicable the act or how foul the verbiage. I will forever aspire to emulate that behavior, probably never coming close.
I am positive that history will be kind to you Mr. President. I’m also fairly certain that this will not weigh heavily upon your conscience. I hope not. You have burdens aplenty. I am certainly not going to be your judge. We both know who that ultimate entity will be and it is that knowledge that probably gives you peace. He will also be kind. In any case sir, I speak for many I’m sure when I say simply, thank you
May you always have fair winds and following seas
Respectfully,
Anthony D. Hubble, RMC(SW), USN(Ret)

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10 Things I wish I would have done, done better, or not done raising my children

Posted on June 13, 2014 by anthonyhubble

I don’t have many regrets as a parent. Not because I haven’t made mistakes as we clearly all do. I parented with the tools I had at the time and I had absolutely no good example to follow from my own parents. I’m clear any mistakes I made I did so out of trying to ensure my children made it to adulthood alive and as productive adults. As they have checked both those boxes I consider my parenting a reasonable success. There are some things I’d rather have done, not done or done better. I’m just going to list ten of them. Why ten? It’s an easy rounded number. Besides I’m not my wife so I can’t think of more than ten mistakes I may have made. They are presented here in no significant order of importance.

  1. Give them more of my time. I was not a neglectful father. Of this I’m sure, but we can always give them more time cant we? More tea parties with the girls, more rough housing with the boys (okay the girls too), more talks about nothing at all, more sports, more hiking, more movies to see, more everything. Whether it would make a big difference to them (it would) or not it would surely make for more and richer memories for me as it is the ones I have of them that are the most precious ones I have of my life. I’m sure they say the same. Right? Right?
  2. Never ever raise my voice. There is a large gap in ages between my three older children and my two younger ones. I became a father very young and I was a very different parent between the younger and older ones. More patient as I got older. But throughout I felt compelled at times to yell at them for something they may have done or neglected to do. I’m not talking raging or belittling, but simply raising my voice. Whether justified or not, I was usually filled with regret afterwards and pride stopped me from apologizing most of the time. I marvel at the patience level my sons and daughter have with their own children. It’s truly a sight to watch and learn from, albeit this late for me. Of course I have not found any reason whatsoever for which to yell at my grandsons. They are clearly less annoying than their parents.
  3. Let them know how proud I am of them. I did and continue to do this, but I could do it much more often. My mother ensures I know how proud she is of me every time I talk to her. She’s absolutely effusive about it to the point of annoyance. Yeah, that’s why I don’t do it. I don’t want to annoy them. You’re welcome kids!
  4. Explain to my daughters the truly disgusting nature of teenage boys. I mean seriously, they are disgusting. I know. I was one. Yet despite this, they both managed to navigate those years successfully. One is happily married to a doting and loving husband, thus far (he’s still under the spotlight and probably will be for life). The other has managed to dodge getting her heart broken and doesn’t allow herself to be taken advantage of. I take no credit for either of their choices. Must be their mother’s upbringing. Then again she chose me so what does she know?
  5. Buy my son the piece of crap overpriced car he seemed to have fallen in love with when he was a teenager. I saw exactly that. A piece of crap, overpriced money pit that would probably break down on a weekly basis. What I failed to see was the car through his eyes and he probably saw only potential. Believe me, the car had none. But most importantly, he would have had a better story to tell than his Dad refusing to buy the first car he fell in love with. Sometimes the smarter decision is not necessarily the better one. He should still thank me for the heartbreak I helped him avoid by not buying it the ungrateful cuss.
  6. Force them to learn Spanish. I say Spanish because it’s the other language I speak/read/write fluently, but any second language would do. My father, although also fluent in Spanish (for a gringo) refused to speak to us in any language other than English. He was militant about it. Why? We were living on a Spanish speaking island and he did not want us to forget English. Result? We didn’t. I should have been more militant about it. They resisted and I caved. Soooo my solution was to take them to that Spanish speaking island so they’d be forced to learn by immersion. I should have taken them to Mexico instead. Everyone in Puerto Rico speaks English, poorly or not, they do speak it.  Fail!
  7. Teach them to dance. My mother taught me to dance very young as she is a dancer at heart. At the time I hated those lessons but I was very appreciative of them when I was in my teens. I was a dancing fool in my teens and where I was raised that’s how you got the girls. My youngest is a natural dancer who’s pretty much self taught. To be honest I’m not sure if my other four can dance a lick. I made up for this by teaching them all martial arts. Only one of them has not made it to black belt. I’m not giving up on her.  Perhaps when I start training her children she’ll start again.
  8. Take them out to sea. I spent ten years of my Naval career on ships and I’ve seen some of the most majestic sights out at sea, night and day. Only one of my children has gone out to sea with me. He actually got to shoot the 5”54 caliber gun mount on my last ship (thanks Captain Frank Demasi!). They were memorable trips and I treasure the memories. My oldest served in the Navy so he’s been out there. My three younger ones have been aboard my ships but only while tied to the pier on my duty nights. Perhaps I’ll purchase a family cruise one of these days. My wife having been out to sea with me once will probably skip that cruise.
  9. Build a treehouse fort. I didn’t have one growing up so I’m not sure how much they missed out on this one but I always wanted to do this. Probably a good thing I didn’t as I’m not much of a builder and I probably spared them some broken bones. In fact they should all thank me for this one too!
  10. Create a college fund. This one is not necessarily so they could all go to college but so they would have the option. My wife and I sacrificed much financially so she could stay home, raise and educate our children. Not much was left over. They never lacked for anything but we did not put anything away for them. I would have liked to have given them the option of going to college or taking the money and bumming around the world for a few years. Wait! Bum around the world for a few years? Why should they get to do that??? Never mind. I’m glad I bought that Corvette and that motorcycle. Okay, I didn’t get those either but I sure did think about it.

I’m not done parenting my adult children so I have some time to make up for these lapses in my parenting record. I just want them to understand how precious and special they are and that because they are, I have managed to do something precious and special in my life. At least five times. Happy Fathers day to me!

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The Philosophy of Billy Joel

Posted on March 27, 2014 by anthonyhubble

Music has always played a big part in my life. If you were to view my musical collection you would probably be thinking “Now this boy is confused!”. I prefer to think of my musical tastes as eclectic. I listen to almost all genres provided they’re not too extreme. I can’t really pin down what it is about certain artists that tweak my ear. Too diverse. I like complex lyrics, but I think the simplicity of some songs (Joe Cocker’s “You are so beautiful”) are timeless in themselves. I just like what I like is all.

I’ve listened to two artists consistently since my early teens and like just about 99% of what they’ve put out. Billy Joel and Ruben Blades. I consider both the best singer/songwriters of all time. I’ll admit people look at me strangely when I issue that statement, but I attribute it to their inability to see the diverse genius of their melodies and the innate philosophy of their lyrics. Ironically, although I’ve met Ruben Blades, I’ve seen neither in concert.

Where Billy Joel is concerned, I’ve owned everything he’s ever made. I’ve replaced each with every advance in technology, from vinyl to 8 track (stifle the old jokes please), cassette and now cd. I’m not one of those fixated fans. I don’t know what his political philosophy is (nor do I care), I dont know what his favorite color is, his birthday, what he drives etc. I know the name of only one of his wives (can ya blame me? Christine Brinkley? Hello?). I just like his music.

Listed below are some snippets from some of Billy Joel’s songs with my interpretation. Admittedly yours may be different. In the interest of brevity and since often things are lost in translation, I’ll save Ruben Blades for another blog. I have to translate his anyways as he recorded primarily in Spanish. He’s somewhat of an elitist latin snob.

“Some people stay far away from the door if there’s a chance of it opening up. They hear a voice in the hall outside and hope that it just passes by.” – An Innocent Man

Speaks to the timidity of the human soul, of those fearful of taking a chance. There’s no criticism or judgment. It is a simple observation. Another choice lyric to this song is:

“But I’ve been there and if I can survive, I will keep you alive. I’m not above going through it again. I’m not above being cool for a while, if you’re cruel to me I’ll understand.”

It’ll be okay. Lean on me. I’ll be patient and strong for both of us.

“You may be right! I may be crazy, but it just may be a lunatic you’re looking for”-You May be Right

Bring out your inner lunatic every once in a while. He/she needs to breathe.

“I thought I was the Duke of Earl when I made it with a redhead girl in a Chevrolet” -Keeping the Faith

The wisdom of age reflects the insignificance of what we thought all important when we were younger. This applies to all ages.

“Once I used to believe I was such a great romancer, then I came home to a woman that I could not recognize. When I pressed her for a reason, she refused to give an answer. It was then I felt the stranger kick me right between the eyes.”- The Stranger

Karma’s a bitch.

“Oh your mother told you all that I could give you was a reputation. She never cared for me, but did she ever say a prayer for me?”- Only the Good Die Young

Self righteous people are often hypocritical and judgmental.

“Brenda and Eddie had had it already by the summer of 75. At the height of the note at the end of the show for the rest of their lives.” – Dinner at an Italian Restaurant.

Pace yourself. Don’t peak too early.

She never gives up and she never gives in. She just changes her mind.”-She’s Only a Woman

Rule number 4 of the things I know about 99.9% of women.

“I’m sure you have some cosmic rational. But here you are with your faith and your Peter Pan advice. You have no scars on your face and you cannot handle pressure.”- Pressure

Ellitist smug liberal a-holes have no idea what they’re talking about. They just think they do.

I don’t have enough room here to list the rest of the subtle genius of Mr. Joel’s music. There are many other “philosopher songwriters I like as well. Harry Chapin, Alejandro Sanz, Jimmy Buffett, etc. I like them too, but I don’t think either of them speak for most of us.

For those compelled to disagree with me, Billy Joel has the appropriate response:

“I don’t care what you say anymore this is my life. Go ahead with your own life leave me alone!”-My life.

Don’t think I have to interpret that one.

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My Belated Mothers Day Message

Posted on May 10, 2011 by anthonyhubble

I realize this is a few days late. I started writing it on the week preceding Mothers Day, but as with all my writing, my dual careers prevented me from finishing it. I’ve resorted recently to posting three lines to accompany other people’s writing. I should really stop doing that. I used to be a pretty prolific blogger, but that was just a hobby. My moneymaking careers take precedence, supporting three college students n’ all. I really would like to give one of them up, but I digress.

Mothers Day. My mother’s name is Heyda Lucia Torres. At one time she was Heyda Lucia Hubble and then (I think) Heyda Lucia Torres de Vazquez. She was born in 1940. She would be horrified that I put that out there as if anyone looking at her wouldn’t get that she’s going to be 71 years old this year. How she got there mystifies me, and her doctors. She likes to say that it’s because she follows her doctor’s orders. That if he told her to eat a daily turd wrapped in seaweed that’s precisely what she’d do. I know, the imagery is pretty bad, but I’m trying to paint an accurate picture here.

Heyda is a dancer. She doesn’t dance much since she suffered a massive stroke in 1978 at the young age of 37. The stroke left her with a pronounced limp and limited use of her left hand, which she refers to as her “claw”. But she remains a dancer in her heart and soul. In her youth she danced briefly on television as part of a troupe of dancers on a variety show. My stern grandmother only allowed her to do this if she attended Beautician College after the season was over. She did, but she never worked as a beautician. Here is one of the most valuable lessons I learned from my mother although she did not teach it to me directly. Never give up on your dreams, regardless of how ridiculous they may seem to others. Your dreams are God’s gifts. This is a biblical principle by the way. How much more insane can a dream get than Abraham and Sarah’s dream of having children in their 90’s?

I believe my mother always regretted not becoming a dancer. It is probably her only major regret, but may have been the catalyst for how she has lived since. Instead, at the tender age of 18, she married a young Army specialist who was stationed in Puerto Rico at the time. His name was Garry Lee Hubble. They proceeded to have four children in their almost 12 years together. I’m the second one.

Through the course of her life my mother lived what most women dream of and also dread. She travelled extensively in her youth as an Army wife and lived with an alcoholic during that time. She raised her children with a permissiveness she wished she had as a child and didn’t have (apparently her sister and her were referred to as the “nuns of Condado”). She is a rebel at heart. She decided after two marriages that she would no longer take any crap from any man, which loosely translates into she would not be accountable to any relationship convention.

Ironically, she complains of being alone. I don’t think she’s putting the pieces together. I remember once after arguing with my wife, my mother, who was visiting, proceeded to give me “relationship advice”. It occurred to me that my relationship with my wife at the time was longer than any my mother had ever had. In fact, I had at that time lived with my wife longer than I had lived with my mother. When I pointed out the irony of her offering me that advice she replied that just because she didn’t know how to make a relationship last didn’t mean she didn’t know how to advise one on how to do so. Then she pointed out how stubborn I was being. It still cracks me up.

As a mother she is as fallible and imperfectly human as can be. My siblings are less forgiving, but I have come to terms with her. Just as my father she is almost completely self-absorbed. What she defined as “giving her children freedom” I translate as her not wanting to put in the hard work that a supervising parent must do to guide their young children through the travails of youth. We pretty much raised ourselves; left to our own devices as it were. It still surprises me that we survived our own creativity. How we all wound up productive members of society probably has as much to do with nature as with nurturing.

The greatest thing I can say about her parenting skills was this. In all my developing years I never once heard her say a negative thing about me. Not one. Even when I screwed up it was all about the behavior and not me personally. In her mind’s eye we were the princes and princess of Puerto Rico. We were the funniest, handsomest, prettiest, smartest of all. My sister took some criticism in her teens, but even then it was the result of my mother knowing that being a woman on the island was tough and you had to be tough to survive it. You just cannot underestimate the powerful impact of this kind of positive reinforcement. If you’re not careful you could wind up a little narcissistic (of course marriage will beat that out of you in due time). In the end, this self image is critical.

This self image is also the way she carries herself. She sees herself through a different prism than the rest of us. As you can see from the photo, my mother was breathtakingly beautiful in her youth. She had classic latina features and a very buxom build when that was still fashionable. Based on her wardrobe, I believe she still thinks she has that same body. Based on her behavior I believe she still thinks she is that age. Near as I can tell she has been reliving her youth for the past 32 years. This could very well be the secret to her longevity. Most women can do with a little dose of her self image.

I love my mother unconditionally as well, even though she annoys me to no end. To her friends and most people who meet her she is the Pied Piper. She has an incredible knack for making others feel pretty darned good about themselves and she leaves an indelible mark on them. I’ve never met a person who after meeting her has anything but glowing remarks about her. She has completely captivated the Sunday School class she attends every time she visits me. In fact, I believe the only people she annoys other than me are my siblings, and the men in her brief relationships.

A few years back I invited her to move in with me as she is on a very tight budget with her fixed SSI income and a monthly stipend from me. Also, and this is my opinion, she’s probably well past the point where she can take care of herself properly. Her response to this invitation was “I’m not dead yet”. I try not to overanalyze the fact that my mother equates moving in with me with death. I am clear that she believes I’m somewhat of a party pooper.

She has informed us that if it gets to the point where she can no longer take care of herself that we are to put her in one of those “Homes”. Of course in her mind that time is ten to twenty years off. I suspect that a decision will have to be made sooner than later. I will say this, whatever home she lands in will be forever changed by Hurricane Heyda. Whether for the good or bad would be a matter of opinion, but I’m clear the menfolk of that facility will be walking taller, dressing better and combing their sparse hairs more often. She still seems to have that effect on men. I myself am not looking forward to that day. It’s very possible that I wish I could see her through her own eyes.

Happy Mothers Day Mami. Que Dios te bendiga siempre.

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RIP Blake Edwards

Posted on December 17, 2010 by anthonyhubble

Blake Edward, dead at 88. May he rest in peace. I don’t know what his politics were, but I’m pretty sure I can state fairly accurately that he was probably another Hollywood leftist. Not that it matters to me since his movies never beat you over the head with his politics. At least not the ones I was a fan of, and there were many. Obviously the Pink Panther movies top that list. Not just for the physical comedy and brilliant delivery of Peter Sellers, but for dialogue like this:

Clouseau: Does your dog bite?

Hotel Clerk: No.

Clouseau: [bowing down to pet the dog] Nice doggie.

[Dog barks and bites Clouseau in the hand]

Clouseau: I thought you said your dog did not bite!

Hotel Clerk: That is not my dog.

and this one:

[after Clouseau accidentally reduces a piano to a pile of splinters]

Mrs. Leverlilly: You’ve ruined that piano!

Clouseau: What is the price of one piano compared to the terrible crime that’s been committed here?

Mrs. Leverlilly: But that’s a priceless Steinway!

Clouseau: Not anymore

Those were from the best of the Pink Panther series (IMHO), The Pink Panther Strikes Again.

The slapstick scenes and the ones between Clouseau and Kato crack me up no matter how many times I watch them. I only wish Bert Kwok had been in more movies. He made an appearance in Jet Li’s Kiss of the Dragon, but in a serious role. I haven’t seen him in any others.

Anyways, I’ve enjoyed almost every Blake Edwards movie I’ve seen. My favorite, hands down outside of the Pink Panther series is an obscure film almost no one has seen but is in my opinion quintessential Blake Edwards. The movie is called Skin Deep and it features John Ritter in what I consider to be his best comedic role; a womanizing, alcoholic writer who is ultimately redeemed. The scene where John Ritter’s character (Jack) is trying to get to his car after being electrically tortured by an ex-girlfriend is a hilarious example of physical comedy at its best and John Ritter was a master at this.

What made Edwards’ movies stand out was the witty, almost always hilarious dialogue, his knack for creating complex, funny characters and making completely wacky situations seem almost possible. The storylines were always interesting even if the premise was as simple as surviving the Blind Date from hell! Even some of the minor characters in his movies were memorable. The waiter in the restaurant scene in Victor/Victoria (Graham Stark) was hilarious. The actor portraying that waiter made appearances in several Edwards’ movies.

I haven’t seen all of his movies. I’ve never seen the iconic Breakfast at Tiffany’s and I’m pretty sure I won’t see it unless I’m dragged to it. One of these days I’ll watch Days of Wine and Roses, but I’m pretty sure I won’t like it either.

Again, I’m not sure where his politics leaned, but I know he and his wife were both philanthropists and were big on children’s causes, so that makes him okay in my book besides the fact that his movies have provided me with hours of laughter and entertainment. He’s one of the few directors in Hollywood who made movies that my wife and I both enjoyed, and that is indeed an anomaly. That he was married for 41 years also makes him an anomaly in Hollywood, although how hard can it be to be married to Julie Andrews? I’m gonna have to dig out my collection of Pink Panther movies and sit down and enjoy a belly laugh or two. RIP Mr. Edwards and thank you.

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And so this is Christmas…

Posted on December 16, 2010 by anthonyhubble

And so this is Christmas.

I know, I shamelessly stole that line from that misguided, secular, but optimistic John Lennon song. Not because it’s my favorite or because I even particularly like it all that much. If you must know, my favorites are The Little Drummer Boy, Mary Did You Know, Do You Hear What I Hear, and for just foot tapping, finger snapping simplicity, Feliz Navidad gets me going. But much like the former Beatle, I’m trying to make a point.

Many things to say about Christmas. For Christians this season is yet another occasion to celebrate the life of our Lord and Savior. Additionally, we use the season to attempt to bring more people to Christ. We don’t need a specific season to do either of those things as we do them all year long, but since this time of year where many do focus just a little on Christ (whether you believe in Him or not) we Christians like to strike while the iron is hot and redouble our efforts to attempt to save those who still need saving (I use the term “we” loosely as I’m a lousy disciple. I’m more concerned with my personal salvation and those close to me than anyone elses). In the process we give more money to support missions, collect food for the poor, perform work for those unable to do it, and comfort for those who need it. Again, we do this all year long as well. We’re a nice bunch, despite the movies, TV shows and books depicting the lot of us as intolerant, narrow minded, racist (only if you’re white), backward knuckle dragging superstitious, troglodytes and lunatics. There are those most certainly out there, but like all cross sections of society, it takes all kinds and those guys get all the press.

I’m not going to rant against the commercialization of the season as I don’t necessarily think that’s a bad thing. For one thing, being a shameless capitalist I don’t see a single thing wrong with people going out there and spreading their money around more than usual, stimulating the economy and creating more jobs. For whatever reason. Heck, some businesses NEED the Christmas season to balance out their entire year. Nothing wrong with that and shopping has little to do with Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

I’m also not going to rant against the policy of wishing people a “Happy Holidays” instead of Merry Christmas, because the simple fact of the matter is that the season also includes the Holy celebration of Hanukah, the made up season of Kwanzaa and the ridiculous season of Festivus (Seinfeld fans will get that). I will wish everyone a Merry Christmas, but if I don’t get it in return, I’m just not going to get my knickers in a wad about it. I won’t boycott businesses who won’t say Merry Christmas and I won’t let it diminish my joy with the season.

I won’t even rant against the militant attempts by atheists and agnostics who want to remove all Christian symbols such as nativity scenes from public view and forcing everyone to refer to secular symbols like Christmas trees as “Holiday Trees”. Kind of ironic since the word “Holiday” is derived from the words Holy Day. I think it’s a little ridiculous and hysterical that they assign so much power to something they profess to not believe. I’m sure they wouldn’t attack a big statue of Obi Wan Kenobe with as much vehemence. We all know he doesn’t exist, but he clearly doesn’t evoke the same vitriol as any image that may represent Christ in any way shape or form. Funny thing. I lived in Qatar for almost two years. It is a country governed for the most part by Sharia law, although they are regarded as a moderate Muslim country. During Christmas, images of Christ are prevalent throughout the season. There are displays of Nativity scenes and the words “Merry Christmas” are displayed prominently. I actually caroled in Qatar to a group of Christians, Jews and Muslims and the Muslims enjoyed it just as much (my solo performance of Feliz Navidad was talked about throughout the year, mostly because of volume rather than musical talent). Here’s something from Abu Dhabi this season:

http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=CNG.937a29e74a6fa43f33a85ed42e22fb84.11&show_article=1

I know the tree began as a secular symbol, but they’re still calling it a CHRISTmas tree. I personally know atheists who are celebrating Christmas with those same symbols. And what does Christ have to do with a Christmas tree? The Menorah is a more specific symbol of a Holy day than the Christmas tree. Shouldn’t we be decorating a cross or a giant fish? The Christmas tree has little to do with Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

Some like to make the point that Christmas has little to do with Christ at all. The gift giving at Christmas was intended to commemorate the gifts brought to Him by the Three Wise Men as an infant, but the gift giving during Hanukah has nothing to do with that, so gift giving is not it. There are other Winter customs of gift giving that are not based on the Three Kings story as well. Gift giving has little to do with Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

December 25th as the historic date of Christ’s birth does not really exist. In Spanish countries January 6th is the celebrated date. Not of His birth but of the visit by the Three Kings. Puerto Rican children make out because they get gifts on both days. It’s one of those mysteries that of all the specifics that we know about Jesus’ life, we don’t really know the exact date of His birth. We know his family genealogy all the way to Adam and Eve. We can pinpoint the hundreds of thousand year old prophesies he fulfilled in His life and can verify His historic existence via other documentation besides the Bible. We just don’t know exactly what date He was born. We began our modern day calendar based on His life even though the term “Before Christ” or BC is no longer being used. Before Common Era or BCE is now the popular term. December 25th or January 6th have little to do with Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

The point is, none of that stuff is going to bother me this Christmas and here’s why. Jesus Christ of Nazareth is bigger than all of it. He is bigger than any plastic display of His birth or any pagan symbol added to celebrate His birth. He will not cease to exist because some people stamp their feet and have a meltdown at the mere mention of His name. Much like love, gravity, subatomic particles and other intangibles, He exists despite the inability to see or touch Him. The fact that some don’t believe in Him doesn’t change this one bit.

That people behave a little nicer during the season is a good thing. That they give gifts and get in touch with people they don’t speak with all year is a good thing. That we get to eat all kinds of goodies we may avoid all year is a good thing. That we’re just a little friendlier, kinder, happier, sappier, these are all good things. That intentionally or not, it is because of the birth of the Savior of the world is definitely a good thing.

So I’m gonna listen to Christmas music on the radio (in Spanish and English) whether the music is about His birth, or about a snowman, reindeer or a fat elf in a red and white suit. I’m gonna decorate my Christmas tree which I cut down myself. I’m gonna finally find some time to decorate the outside of my house before my neighbors come at me with torches and pitchforks (ya gotta see my street, it’s like the Griswold Family Christmas out there), I’m gonna make and drink some Coquito, eat Pasteles, Pernil and pie. I’m gonna figure out a way to cook that turkey-zilla a friend of mine slaughtered and gave me (the carcass takes up my entire freezer and it won’t fit in any conventional roasting pan).

Most of all, I’m gonna celebrate the gift of love and eternal life granted to me by the sacrifice of blood by Jesus Christ of Nazareth, the Lamb of God and the Light of the World. I’m gonna celebrate that it is only through His Grace that I am saved as I cannot earn it by acts or good intentions. I’m going to wish His blessings upon my friends, acquaintances and loved ones. I’m going to do this via the very simple words, Merry Christmas.

Oh, and HAPPY NEW YEAR!

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Obama’s “chickens coming home to roost”

Posted on April 26, 2008 by anthonyhubble

The Obama-ites are frenziedly trying to damage control yet another bad association the Senator had in his murky past.

 

http://www.townhall.com/columnists/GuyBenson/2008/04/24/debunking_obamas_ayers_fact_sheet

 

We knew very little about this charismatic, idolized young “agent of change” a year or two ago and the MSM would have liked to have kept it that way.  Not like it matters with his acolytes.  Being Liberals, they’re more concerned with how he makes them “feeeeeel” and don’t want to be bothered with facts.  Like Chris Matthews “chill running up his legs” when Obama speaks.  I’m not even touching the complete gay nature of that comment.  I’ll just focus on the fact that it is coming from a supposed “journalist”.  I’ve blogged about that idiot in the past.  But here’s further proof of his man crush on the young Senator.

 

http://www.townhall.com/columnists/MikeGallagher/2008/04/25/media_jumps_the_gun_for_barack

 

I don’t hold people to the follies of their youth.  I know I have my fair share, but I’m not running for President of this great nation; and yes, I hold that office and whoever occupies it to a slightly higher standard. But we’re not talking about a naïve, obsolete and isolated association with a questionable character.  We’re now talking about a pattern of association with some of the NOTORIOUSLY worst anti-American, racist, anarchist, socialist, leftist people in the country. 

 

All he offers as a defense is either “I didn’t know…” or “that’s irrelevant…” or “I didn’t know…” (I listed it twice to make the point).  Well, Senator, if you’re gonna expect to hold the reigns of our national defense and security you should make it a point to know who you associate with and you cant think I’m obtuse enough to think that your associations, close associations despite what you say, are irrelevant.  I for one hold you to them. 

 

A word about a great majority of the blacks in this country.  I’ve already stated my position on racism and race in general, so here goes an objective opinion based on observation. The OJ Simpson trial taught me droves about the views of a HUGE majority of them.  Events like the LA Riots, Hurricane Katrina, the Jenna Six, the Duke Lacrosse and Don Imus fiascos don’t make the community look any better. The huge numbers the Senator is getting everywhere he goes also defines their agenda.  I don’t shy away from stating the obvious.  It’s not that sinister really.  If you’re a black Democrat, both your candidates have the same agenda/philosophy, so given the choice, you identify with and vote for the black candidate.  What’s bothersome is that they vote for him BECAUSE he’s black.  Can’t sugar coat that. 

 

Of course the over riding reason is that he’s a liberal since Alan Keyes and Condoleeza Rice would not register on their list of possibilities.  Not that I blame them, they’re only following the cues of their leadership.  Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson et al.  What’s insulting to them, or at least should be, is the condescension.  What’s worrisome to me, is the inherent racism.  Something that the other side is constantly being labeled with.  So again the contradiction still being propagated by things like Jet magazine, BET (who ironically doesn’t like Obama), and all the other exclusive Black organizations in this country (not to mention Hispanic).  It’s okay for the black goose, but not for the white gander.

 

 

 

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“What kind of name is Yossarian?” March 25, 2008

Posted on April 26, 2008 by anthonyhubble

I’ve been meaning to blog about race for quite some time.  I’ve touched on the subject briefly on a couple of old blogs, but I’ve been meaning to cover it more in depth for a while now.  I’ve never directly blogged about the issue (save for one on my physical similarity to Arabs).  I haven’t done it for two reasons.  One, every time I began to write on the subject it became as long as my four part series on how to survive a mass shooting.  Also, to be honest, I was holding off because I intended to do some research and write an article I was going to submit for paid publication. My memories of the effort I expended getting my Black Belt magazine article published for the payout I received has discouraged me from that avenue. 

 

Then John Hawkins’ wrote a column that inspired me to finally put down my thoughts on the subject. 

 

Click here for John Hawkins article

 

Kick back boys and girls, this one may get rather long, but I believe it’s topical.

 

I’m uniquely qualified to talk about the subject.  That doesn’t make any one else unqualified to discuss it as we all can draw on our personal experiences.  The problem is the injection of filters.  Admittedly I have my own, but my experience is a unique one.  Ironically and in many ways it is very similar to Senator Obama’s, although I derived something very different from mine. 

 

Ethnically speaking, I’m just as much a mongrel as anyone in the US, or the entire planet.  My father’s heritage is Scott Irish (with others mixed in as well).  He was born and raised in Michigan.  My mother is Puerto Rican (which is of itself a mixed ethnic group).  She was raised on the island.  I spent some time looking into my ancestry and was surprised by what I discovered, as I’m sure most people would be if they took the time.  For example, the Hubble Family Society says that every single Hubble in the US (regardless of whether you spell it Hubble, Hubbell or Hubel) all come from the same descendant.  This means that I may be related to Edwin Hubble the astronomer.  I find this staggering! Particularly since I haven’t received a single residual from whatever money’s been made off that telescope.  I’m still looking into it.  Plus I’m partly Canadian and I have an actual clan tartan.The Mcintaugh clan.

 

I was raised partly in the US, Puerto Rico and Europe from birth to age six.  Then we settled in Puerto Rico when I was seven until I joined the Navy at age seventeen.  The amalgam of my parental cultural heritage and my upbringing has made me an enigma to some people who (human nature being what it is), try to put me into some comfortable shelf in order to define “what” I am.  I don’t blame them.  I confuse myself sometimes. 

 

My unique perspective stems from how people who come in contact with me treat me.  For example, while being raised on the island, because of my last name and the fact that we spent the first few years of our lives off the island, most of the islanders referred to my siblings and I as “Los hermanos gringos”. 

 

You would think calling me a gringo is funny, considering my appearance, but Puerto Rican’s are a bit unique when it comes to physical appearance.  In PR, they don’t separate themselves by color into different ethnic groups.  Color is mostly a descriptive.  You’re either a blonde haired, blue eyed Rican or a black as night Rican.  Either way you’re Puerto Rican.  We long ago stopped raising eyebrows at couples who were distinctly and physically different in color.  In fact, the supposed “classic” Rican is defined as a combination of Spaniard, African and Taino (Arawac) Indian.  I believe this is historically inaccurate and there are many more.  In my own family on the island there’s even a direct French ancestor.  Then there’s the fact that Puerto Rico has been a US Commonwealth for over a hundred years.  There were plenty of horny gringos at the beginning of the last century planting their seeds all over the island. But I’m digressing.

 

By the same token, outsiders are defined as such regardless of skin color.  I wasn’t treated poorly as a “gringo” on the island.  In fact, after a brief introductory period when I’d infrequently get into a fight with some wannabe comedian for mangling my last name and using it to make fun of me, I fit right in.  The fact that I was a “gringo” became one of those things they’d remember only occasionally (usually when my last name came up again).  I’ve heard at least ten phonetic pronunciations of Hubble.  The first day of school always made me cringe.  I’m sure anyone with an odd surname can relate.  However, the anomaly of being slightly different always gave me the perspective of an outsider looking in.  It bothered me sometimes and sometimes I used it to my advantage.  The advantages usually outweighed the problems it created.

 

Then, when I joined the Navy and came back to the continent I was called “the Puerto Rican guy”.  Physically that fit, but I was actually born in Seattle Washington.  How funny is that?  Some people thought I was from New York.  I had not spent a day in New York, but apparently I had a New York accent.  This is because where I was raised on the island most people spoke English like either Desi Arnaz or Tony Soprano.  I  adopted the Tony Soprano inflection, but believe you me, I have many relatives on the island who talk just like Desi.  The point being that now I was being put into another slot that “differentiated” me. 

 

When I reported to my first ship, the Puerto Ricans and other Latinos expected me to immediately hang with them in their Latino cliques.  For a brief period I actually welcomed this bonding, until I figured out that none of them actually shared my “heritage”.  Some of the Ricans from NY (we call them Niuyoricans on the island) didn’t even speak a lick of Spanish.  They were very proud to call themselves Puerto Rican, but they had no clue about their ancestral heritage from the island.  They in fact put me in yet another sub-group since I was from the island itself.  They called me Jibaro, which to them meant I was “fresh off the boat”.  They didn’t even know the origin of that particular moniker (it was a term used by a Spanish author by the name of Miguel Alonso in a book by the same name a about three hundred years ago).  I had absolutely nothing in common with any other Latino group. 

 

Ironically, I got along very well with a guy whose family came from Cuba.  He was a blonde haired blue eyed guy named Rodriguez.  He spoke better Spanish than most of the Ricans on the ship.  We often joked that we should swap last names because of our incongruous physical features.  This even led me to briefly giving some thought to legally changing my last name to my mother’s (Torres). 

 

My very first experience with racism came from a Latino guy on that very ship.  He was a Chicano (this was a moniker he gave himself) from East LA.  I had befriended a guy named Mike Melko.  He actually wound up being the best man at my first wedding.  We were all in the Deck division of the ship.  The Latinos had a clique of about six guys in the division.  Their Latin cultural heritage was as diverse as any other.  When I began hanging out with Mike, the Chicano approached me and asked me why I was hanging out with that “guero”.  His tone was that of a cross parent addressing a wayward child.  He was about six or seven years older than I was so I guess he thought he was entitled.  His problem became two-fold.  One, I was very resistant to authority in my teen years.  Two, I didn’t take kindly to people telling me what to do, regardless of age.  The subsequent exchange sealed my fate with that particular Latino clique.  Now I was a gringo again.

 

I discovered something very quickly on that first ship.  First of all, I figured out that being Latino did not immediately qualify someone to be a friend of mine.  Let’s face it, there are assholes everywhere.  There are plenty of assholes on the island I wouldn’t give a minute of my time to and that applied universally.  The Latino guys who became good friends of mine did so in spite of their ethnicity.  One of them a Niuyorican who spent the latter part of his teen years on the island and another a Tejano from Kerville Texas. 

 

So if being Latino did not immediately qualify someone for my friendship, then it certainly didn’t qualify you for my vote, my patronage or my support.  In other words, I learned to deal with people on their merits.  Thankfully, at a very young age. 

 

I’ve only been called a Spic two times to my face in my life.  In only one occasion was it done in anger (some guys don’t react very well when the women they have designs on opt for a better option).  I’ve only met one person who I’d call a true racist.  Ironically he was one of the best Chief’s I served under in the Navy and even he never held me back. 

 

The various other non-insulting things I’ve been called (Gringo, Jibaro, Puerto Rican, Boricua) were names other people gave me (I’ve also been called Arabic, Italian, Greek and on one strange occasion, Philipino). 

 

Here’s the thing; I have never been denied a single opportunity because of my ethnicity and skin color.  Even if it had been done, unbeknownst to me, my ethnicity and skin color would be the last thing I’d use as an excuse.  For one thing they’re factors out of my control and I’m very big on controlling my fate and destiny.  For another, once you go down the victimhood road you might as well go down it with your pants around your ankles. 

 

What is my point?  That assholes come in all colors?  That ignorance is just as universal? That there is no pure race, therefore, there should be no racism? 

 

To be perfectly honest, I really don’t give the subject much thought anymore.  Or I at least don’t let the militants, extremists and opportunists bother me as much anymore. I think that people who make excuses for themselves will use the most convenient of excuses and people who hate will find a reason to hate no matter what color you are.  People’s perceptions are their realities and you can’t shake them from their trees if they were on fire.

 

What makes me ultimately comfortable is the fact that most people are just like me.  Reasonable and rational.  We take people at their merits and based on how they treat us.  We’re proud of our uniqueness, but don’t wear our ethnicity on our sleeves.  And thankfully, regardless of our individual colors and ethnic backgrounds, we are still in the majority.  We just don’t make as much noise.

 

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History’s idiots

Posted on April 26, 2008 by anthonyhubble

The saying goes, “Those who ignore history are doomed to repeat it.”  General David Petraeus, an American hero and, as evidence shows, a brutally honest battle commander has once again been ignored and trivialized by the power hungry who are advocating surrender. Yes SURRENDER. They’re just calling it different things I’m clearly not “nuanced” or “sophisticated” enough to understand.  Me being a war monger and all. Yes I’ve been called that on at least two Multiply pages.  It doesn’t insult me and I’m in good company so go ahead.  Beats being a peacenik. 

 

I’m not going to get into the tired argument about whether it was a good idea to invade Iraq.  My position on that is clear, educated and based on first hand exposure and experience.  Besides, that kind of second guessing is moot at this point in time.  What is relevant is that we are there now and things are clearly improving.  Yet, the Dems want to once again snatch defeat from the jaws of victory.  The repercussions of our abandoning Iraq the way Clinton, Obama and Co. are outlining can’t even be fathomed by most of the peaceniks, and may even be a little hazy for some of the war’s lukewarm supporters.

 

 Allow me to provide a historical perspective.  For a while it was fashionable to make comparisons between Iraq and Vietnam.  I haven’t seen much of that lately, and it’s possible that they figured out what I’ve known.  First, most of the comparisons were inaccurate and the ones that applied went against their arguments and talking points.  Here’s what I mean.  Our abandoning Vietnam the way we did by caving to the Peaceniks, the Media and the liberals caterwauling directly resulted in the murder of millions of Vietnamese and Cambodians.  This in the face of the liberal elites saying the slaughter would never happen and that the best thing for Cambodians and Vietnamese was for us to just leave.  Some names you may recognize.  Like John Kerry.  I’ll post a link below.  In fact, here’s something Senator Chris Dodd (then a US Rep) said back in 1975:

 

“The greatest gift our country can give to the Cambodian people is not guns but peace. And the best way to accomplish that goal is by ending military aid now.” -U.S. Rep. (now Sen.) Chris Dodd of Connecticut, March 12, 1975.

 

So we listened and the result was a massacre that was aptly named “The Killing Fields”. 

 

So what you say?  Well, it also resulted in a decade of hangdog shame, self-loathing and loss of national pride that was only eventually reversed when a Presidential candidate unabashedly reminded us that we were the “shining city on a hill”.  Want to know what Chris is saying now?  Here’s an example:

 

“Q [to Dodd]: Should the US set a firm deadline for the withdrawal of US troops from Iraq?

 

DODD: I believe we should. I didn’t come to that decision a long time ago. It’s been an evolving situation here. I think most would agree today that we’re more isolated today, our moral standing in the world has suffered terribly over the last number of years as a result of our involvement in Iraq. We’re feeling less secure, more vulnerable today. My view is there’s a greater likelihood that the Iraqis, if they understand that this is not an open-ended process here, there’s a beginning time and an end time for our military involvement here, and that we’re willing to help train troops and help on counter-terrorism, but that come the first of April next year, our military participation is over with.”

 

Then there’s Senator John Kerry.  This pompous ass needs his own category.  He’s irony incarnate.  Here’s what he said on the Senate Floor on November 9, 1997 [Congressional Record, p. S12256]:

 

“We must recognize that there is no indication that Saddam Hussein has any intention of relenting. So we have an obligation of enormous consequence, an obligation to guarantee that Saddam Hussein cannot ignore the United Nations. He cannot be permitted to go unobserved and unimpeded toward his horrific objective of amassing a stockpile of weapons of mass destruction. This is not a matter about which there should be any debate whatsoever in the Security Council, or, certainly, in this Nation. If he remains obdurate, I believe that the United Nations must take, and should authorize immediately, whatever steps are necessary to force him to relent–and that the United States should support and participate in those steps.

 

We must not presume that these conclusions automatically will be accepted by every one of our allies, some of which have different interests both in the region and elsewhere, or will be of the same degree of concern to them that they are to the U.S. But it is my belief that we have the ability to persuade them of how serious this is and that the U.N. must not be diverted or bullied.”

 

He recently stated this about Al Qaeda in Iraq:

 

“Truth-be-told, it is our overwhelming footprint that energizes Al Qaeda in Iraq.  If we reduce our footprint — as the Iraq Study Group and General Jones have recommended, I believe the Iraqis themselves, will drive Al Qaeda from Iraq, with a leaner U.S. military and special forces there to finish the job.”

 

I’m wondering what exactly he meant back in 1997 and what exactly he intended to do about Saddam Hussein?  Clearly nothing. 

 

Way back in 1971 in a debate between John Kerry and John Oneill on the Dick Cavett show John Kerry made the ridiculous assertion that reports of an ensuing massacre if we abandoned Vietnam were exaggerated.  Well, we all know how that turned out.  You can read the transcript or watch the entire debate here:

 

http://www.wintersoldier.com/index.php?topic=KerryONeill

 

It’s pretty extensive but well worth watching.  You might even get chills and an odd sense of déjà vu when analyzing today’s armchair military geniuses and their “predictions”.  I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not re-live the decade of the 70’s, politically speaking.

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Lessons from our troops, January 3, 2007

Posted on January 3, 2008 by anthonyhubble

TigerThis recent posting from Michael Totten got me to thinking about some of the lessons we can learn from our Masterful Marines.  Mr. Totten’s another independent imbedded journalist in Iraq. 

 

http://www.michaeltotten.com/archives/2008/01/a-plan-to-kill.php

 

Before I get to the “lesson”, let me say I enjoy these guys’ insights because their independent status gives them the leeway to be brutally honest and non-agenda driven.  Pat Dollard and Michael Yon are also good sites to have bookmarked for this purpose.  Other than the personal friends I have in theater, I count on these reporters’ postings for good and factual on the ground news.

 

Again, I was linked to Mr. Totten’s site by FoxNews.com’s “Latest News” link. They continue to be the only source for these reports in the major news organizations.  The other networks/newspapers continue to ignore these and for good reason (in their editorial bent minds).  They invariably report GOOD news.  Not intentionally and they’re all clear that much work needs to be done and the situation is dynamic, but they have a clear understanding of the importance of this work and why it MUST be done.  They don’t get into any of the “why are we here?” and “President Bush is evil” chants.  Not to mention the fact that they are respectful and honest about our forces, yes our Masterful Forces’ efforts.

 

Now to the lesson.

 

This latest posting focuses on the issue of complacency and how our Marines are countering this mindset.  I addressed this issue on another blog in our own lives within the “relative safety” of our mainstream USA streets.  Mr. Totten was having difficulty with this concept, but he seemed to get the point.  Admittedly it’s a fine line to walk, the difference between situational awareness and rampant paranoia.  I like the joke axiom “just because I’m paranoid doesn’t mean you bastards AREN’T out to get me”, because it’s just funny.  But the opposite is also true (not being paranoid doesn’t mean you bastards AREN’T out to get me). 

 

Mr. Totten pointed it out when, looking at an Iraqi, who in his mind clearly presented no danger, he imagined smashing the man’s face in.  Some may be appalled at this but it is an exercise I engage in regularly throughout the day.  As people walk up to me I switch off between two imaginary scenarios.  One, what would I do if this person (regardless of their physical appearance) all of a sudden upped and surprise attacked me (armed, unarmed etc.).  I mentally prepare a counter for each of these scenarios.  I focus on quick and deadly, mostly gross motor movements. 

 

Second, I also imagine how I would attack them if I wanted to all of a sudden surprise blitz them.  In a million years I would not do this for real, but it gives me an insight into the thought process of an attacker.  There are countless scenarios that I alternate in both exercises (quick and deadly, defensive and non-lethal, immobilize, one-two-three strikes etc.). 

 

One of the major benefits of this type of mental training is that you create a mindset of situational awareness that continues to churn in the background of your mind even when you’re not engaging in the exercise. 

 

How is this useful? 

 

Surprisingly, a MAJOR benefit is subtle and intangible, but very effective.  It counters prey behavior.  In other words, your heightened state of relaxed alertness delivers an unspoken message to the attacker (predator) that you are NOT easy prey.  They don’t know why, but they can just sense it.  Here’s the beauty of it.  The message in most cases is effective REGARDLESS of your physical appearance and/or training.  Remember, you only have to physically defend yourself when your actual personal security plan has failed.  You want to avoid that because there are some evil sons of bitches out there.  Ironically, even the toughest of them are inherently cowardly and will only target easy prey.

 

Secondly, should you have to physically defend yourself you will leap into action almost immediately with canned physical techniques that are subconsciously driven..  We all have some of these that are already neuro-muscularly innate.  Throwing your hands up, crouching your head, closing your eyes etc.  The first few seconds of an attack are CRITICAL and are almost always wasted by the shocked reaction of people who first go into a state of denial (often voiced aloud).  “I can’t believe this is happening to me!”  Remember, the attacker has had the benefit of planning and victim selection. They are also already highly adrenalized into action.  You’re playing catch-up.  The above exercise will expedite this paradigm shift.

 

Do not misunderstand me here.  I’m not advocating a state of paranoia about your fellow man.  What I advocate is preparedness, physical and mental, but the mental state is the key to avoidance.  It’s amazing to me when I hear my single, slightly older, female students talk about the myriad of emotional defensive mechanisms they have in place when they go out on a date for the first time with someone.  They have these because they’ve been burned before and they carry them into the first few dates.  Yet when I talk to them about the above exercise they express shock and dismay that they should have to live like that.  Ironic.  The mental state I’m talking about here is actually quite a liberating and empowered one.  Particularly if you’re not innately security minded.

 

Of course to me the exercise is also a bit fun.  Sue me.  My juvenile proclivities aside, as Joe Pesci’s character says in My Cousin Vinny, although I could probably use a good ass whuppin, I’m not volunteering for one anytime soon.  For more of this type of information, go to my “Surviving a mass shooting” blog. It’s in 4 parts but I’m pretty proud of that post.

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