My Stupid Little Brothers

From the Halls of Montezuma, to the Shores of Tripoli. We fight our country’s battles, in the air, on land and sea. First to fight for right and freedom and to keep our honor clean. We are proud to claim the title of United States Marine! Ooh-rah! Semper Fi!

While at work today, I glanced out my window to see some cadets across the street that are training for a career in law enforcement and I said to my co-worker that it reminded me of my days in the Marine Corp (which of course I never attended or was a member of) and she said “You were in the Marine Corp?” I laughed and told her no and told her a story of when I worked at another office I jokingly told another co-worker that I had been a drill instructor in the Marines and she believed me and a few days later brought her young daughter to meet me. I was so embarrassed to admit I had just been kidding and this poor woman brought her daughter to meet me because she had admired my accomplishment. 

So then I sang my current co-worker Angie, the Battle Hymn of the Republic and she didn't know that was their song. 

Then I showed her the technique the cadets across the street were learning, on how to control riots with their batons and how to move as a group. 

Since I had a captive audience (literally because we’re at work and neither of us can go anywhere) I started telling her some of the sayings that my brothers (both ex-marines) had taught me when they got back from Boot Camp. 

This is my Rifle and this is my gun; this is for fighting, the this is for fun! 

I of course had to make that same gesture as in the photo. C'mon! We were just having fun and sometimes at work you have to take a break and just laugh at yourself and each other!

Then I told her there is a serious one about the Marine and his gun: 

The Creed of the United States Marine

This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. My rifle, without me, is useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will...

My rifle and I know that what counts in war is not the rounds we fire, the noise of our burst, nor the smoke we make. We know that it is the hits that count. We will hit...

My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strength, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will keep my rifle clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will...

Before God, I swear this creed. My rifle and I are the defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviors of my life.

So be it, until victory is America's and there is no enemy, but peace!

I remember my brother Fred when he got home from Marine Corp Boot Camp reciting that to us while my little brother Jaime watched, knowing that someday he would follow in Fred's footsteps.

As I typed that it reminded me of the fact that while my brothers were learning these things and receiving training to protect and serve their country, to me they were just my stupid little brothers! But they returned as men!

I hope my little brothers know how much I admire and respect what they did for their country. Neither of them actually had to fight during a war, but they were prepared. They left home, family and safety to take their turn at protecting their country.

Wow, I didn't mean for this post to be about my brothers but I guess that is where my heart led me, stupid little brothers...I love you both.

My Brothers with our Dad

My Brothers with our Mom

 

Bacon Don't BBQ

Remember last month on March 8th when I mentioned what a terrific adequate BBQ,er I am becoming? Remember my BBQ'd corn? Remember my telling you how I come from a long line of BBQ,ers  extraordinaire? Well since I've BBQ'd once and it turned out perfect ok...I thought I'd BBQ again yesterday. I again made burgers and hot dogs and they came out much better than last time. So feeling cocky and confident, I decided that I would BBQ strips of bacon, just like my dad and my brother Fred do perfectly all the time.

Here you see The Men in my Life. My brother Fred in the white t-shirt with the tongs...he's the King of BBQ Chicken; my brother Jaime in the red shirt with his hand in his pocket...he's the King of Assisting as he's usually the one helping Fred and while I understand from his daughter Clarissa that he's a great BBQ'er, I've never eaten anything he's BBQ'd. And of course the King of BBQ plain and simple, my dad Federico standing in the back there with his hand on the BBQ grill which was custom made for him by his brother Manuel. Dad has taught these two boys all he knows about BBQ'ing and a little, tiny bit of what he taught them kinda/sorta rubbed off on me.

So I figured with all those BBQ genes roaming around inside of me I can probably BBQ Bacon just like they do. WRONG!!! Wrong, wrong, wrong! This is what the stuff oozing out of the bottom of my little BBQ grill looked like. I kid you not! All that bacon grease caught on fire and was just oozing out looking like molten lava! It just dripped out all over the concrete slab underneath and continued to burn!

Now see...I don't have a fancy custom made BBQ grill like my dad has. One that you can lower and raise the grill if the heat gets too hot or too cold. Nope, I just have your standard Weber BBQ Grill with the grill just sitting on the coals. I tried putting the smoker lid on it but that damn Bacon wouldn't quit burning. And the smoke!!! Geesh, the smoke! It was crazy. You would have thought I was burning a forest in my backyard! And I do believe yesterday was a "no burn" day in Kern County! I'm lucky the fire department didn't respond and fine me!

I removed the few strips that didn't totally disintegrate into the river of molten lava and finished them off in the microwave, but I'm pretty sure I will never try to BBQ bacon ever again!