Written on a day two of three days without sleep. I am sure I can do better.

Jamie Kittery walked to a saloon and stepped to the left, the place was not as dark as others and he could see well in the room despite the smoke. It was a nice place, a large mirror sat behind the bar with a large quantity of hard drinks in a variety he rarely sees with a bar made of oak and a brass foot rail. The tables had tablecloths with a pair of pretty girls, one white, one Mexican walking around while the piano played a simple tune. Both were older than he was. The player had a fair Irish tenor and was rumored to be a onetime opera singer. The owner was more than well off.
Jamie was a young man to some a boy to others, in plain but dusty clothing with an old gun on one hip and a knife on the other. He ordered a beer, hearing a grunt about his age and then looked into the rather large mirror. To his left was a pharaoh game, to his right was a few poker games and three sleepy drunks were scattered about the room. He made a mental fix on each one. The drunks seemed a little odd to him. The name Jamie Kittery was a known one, he had killed a pistoleer six months before who was both fast and known, last year he killed another man who was wanted. Both men were sober and the fugitive wounded him. His pa told him to use caution and make damned sure you spot what does not belong in the picture because it may save your life.
He turned and looked at the group of men in the far poker game. Hezekiah and Richard Lassiter played with one of their relations with his back turned and Kittery’s cousin David Wolfe. The Lassiter brothers were both large men, six feet tall and broad shouldered and deep chested with brown hair and gray-blue eyes. The two were over a year a part in age but they looked at twins. Richard wore a linen shirt with a buckskin jacket and blue hat, the elder of the two he wore gray hat where Hezekiah wore a brown hat and vest. Both favored the Remington 1875 revolver and carried bowies knives. David Wolfe was an even larger redheaded man who was known as a half breed out of the Nations and carried a Colt .45 on and an Arkansas toothpick. His clothing was simple, a shirt with rolled up sleeves and moccasins with an old Confederate kepi.
The stranger wore a black frock coat with gray trousers and black hat belonging on a cowhand. He seemed too familiar to be a stranger but he lacked the long hair and beard of his pa, the man who first came to his mind. But then again the two Lassiters were the only two of the family his pa spoke to on a friendly basis. James Kittery, his pa, nearly came to shooting a cousin of theirs two years ago and Pa Lassiter found out that James Kittery could hit hard the year before in a nasty fight. Ma Kittery and Miss Cindy both beat his pa for an hour strait for that. His pa took it all and like it was nothing.
“Don’t just stare boy, come here,” David said with a wide grin. He said something in German that the whole table chuckled at.
“Pa finds out…”
“Don’t play then just watch we want to talk to you, Jamie,” Hezekiah grunted. “Your pa ain’t gonna mind today. There’s something you should know about your pa’s trip. He didn‘t just sell some horses.”
That got Jamie’s attention. His pa was always honest with him on all the ranch business, at times it was to the point of tedium if not beyond. This trip he was taking some horses to the Secretary of War in Washington D.C. for a nice tidy some. The Kittery’s Rocking-K ranch was known for their fine horse flesh and it was rumored that the Rocking-K would provide the U.S. Army with horses for the Calvary.
“What do you mean, Dave,” Jamie asked suspiciously.
“He picked a few things we’ll need for our ride,” Hezekiah said smiling. “He didn’t want you to come Jamie but after that killin’ this morning you should spend a little time away from Pa. Let him cool down and get the idea of treating you like you are a killer for a while out of his head.”
“Good idea. How’d my pa take the news that I killed a man this morning?”
“He’s not happy Jamie,” Dave said with a grim tone. He then gave a sly grin. “I think he wanted to kill the cock sucker himself.”
“I doubt pa would want to kill him,” Jamie said with a slight hint of disgust. “He ain’t much for kill men and I never seen him do much more than wear a six gun.” The whole table laughed with the exception of the stranger. “What? You mean he can use a gun for somethin’ other than huntin’?”
“The truth of it is Jamie,” Richard spoke, something rare for him, “he’s the reason you have your reputation. He was called Jamie when he was a youngster too. He actually first made a name for himself in the War riding for Stuart. In fact, since the end of the War, he’s killed more men than you have fingers. He doesn’t look for it and a few where in posses with Pa but he’s born to kill. I am afraid you have his talent.”
That shocked Jamie. He looked at the floor. There was two revelations that were just made about his father he never knew. He never even thought about the war, he always just thought his Pa was a union man like the two Lassiters before him. But then he also never asked. But was nothing compared to his being a killer. The man always bluffed… Thomas Lassiter was the one he nearly got into a gunfight with. What did Thom say? I am not afraid of your ilk! Was that what he meant?
David said something in German again and the stranger silently went to the bar. He then leaned close to Jamie and whispered, “James never wanted you to know about that part of his life, kid. He ain’t proud of it and it ain’t somethin’ you talk to children about. That’s why we never told you, because we all had done things we are not proud of ourselves.”
“James Kittery,” a voice said from his left. It was a dude with something like a British accent. He wore a derby hat, glasses and was holding his left wrist in an odd fashion that made Kittery willing to bet his saddle on it being a hideout gun in a gambler’s rig. “I am John Donald. Can we have a minute alone?”
“Sir I believe you are talkin’ to the wrong man,” the unnamed Lassiter stated. “You have my son, I am James Kittery. What can I do for you Mr. Donald?” Jamie dropped his glass. With the exception for a few wrinkled, his pa looked just like himself when shaven. “And don’t move that left arm please. I’m not big on derringers.” James Kittery drew back the left side of his coat to reveal a Colt pistol in a cross draw holster. Jamie saw that he wore two gun belts. He had two guns.

Some basic things self defense to keep in mind.

DO NOT THINK THAT THIS HAS ANY VALUE BEYOND THE ACADEMIC. I ain't an expert, you most likely ain't one. I am not responsible for your stupidity, you are, I am only responsible for my own.

There are several basics everyone should know when it comes to defending one self. First and for most is survival. You have to be willing to do what ever it takes to live to see the next day. The saying goes; "I'd rather be judged by twelve than carried by six." Why would I say this, well this is because everyone is capable of extreme violence. It's something many sheeple do not want to grasp. No exceptions, the capability is there. Okay, there is a man ready to do bad and violent things to you, what do you do. Ideally you never find your self in that situation to begin with. You use situational awareness, you avoid the threat the best you can. But lets say all else fails, shoot him. No gun, use a knife, improvise something. The only true weapon s that nerve center in your head, everything else is just tools.
Empty hand techniques, unarmed combat do not make up for a weapon. Yes there are guys and gals out there who can relieve a person of their weapons, I know a little on the subject myself, but those people would rather have their own weapons and not use these techniques, I know I would. If I ever find myself facing another person bent on doing violence to me, I will not fight fair, I will go home to my family, I will not be timid or pitiful. Aggression is a major factor in fighting. You have to tap that primal urge to stomp the everlovin' life out of the punk. If you don't, you'll be lucky to go to the ER.
Striking the opponent comes down to several basic movements. The jab and cross (reverse punch to my fellow Shotakans) are simple shooting your arms strait forwards into a target area. The hook and the upper cut involve arcing the movement of your arms. Aside from that, how ever you shape your hand and where you are targeting are the major differences in what ever hand strike you use. Basic elbow work is up-down and side to side movements. These can be used as both strikes and blocks. Knee strikes a front kicks have a lot in common. And then there is the headbutt. Elbows, knees and headbutts are for close fighting, kicks and handwork are for distance. I'll go through these in more depth later on.
Basically, anything you can punch, you can use the palm of your hand. Distance plays a factor and targeting plays a factor. The chin jab is an open palm strike to the base or bottom of the chin. It's basically an uppercut that uses the heel of your palm and has a likelyhood of gouging eyes and hurting the nose at the same time. The famous karate chop and hammer fist have the same freaking movements. The back fist is also along the same lines of though.
Kicks are best left below the waist. Believe it or not, they require more precision. The best spot to kick someone is the knee. Going for the groin is nowhere near as reliable as popular belief has it. No matter how big they are, take out the knee and they are going down or at least be hampered enough to allow you to escape. There are two ways to do a front kick. The first uses the ball of the foot, the second uses the blade. The same goes for the roundhouse kick. This is target dependent. The side kick seems best to me done with the heel and is the back kick. Heel kicks are devastating when done right, and foolish when done wrong. They also can be used in the take down when targeting the lower half of the legs.
Knees and elbows are two of the hardest parts or your body, they can do damage. They also can block attacks up close and even lock a limb in place. Headbutts are best for the nose, then the mouth.
No matter what, do not be gentile. Hit hard, hit fast, even hit first. Do not stop until there is no longer a threat. Being offensive rather than defensive is the best way to go. There is only one kind of fair fight, it involves score cards, judges and referees, you will not find this on the street. Next time on this subject I'll tackle grappling.

My Little Projects: an update for some.

I have been trying to get a few little projects done. This is on top of family, work and my little World of Warcraft addiction. Honestly these have taken a back seat more than once and will quite a bit more in the future.

My Western novel, set in a fictional Texas Panhandle town of Restless in 1880-1881 and in the first person of Jamie Kittery* a sixteen year old son of a horse rancher as he finds his life flipped upside down by a stranger from his father's past. He has to find out who his father really was and his connection to the Confederacy before he and his father are killed by Confederate holdouts and former Union soldiers with a grudge against the Confederacy. (chapter one is getting fleshed out and I am missing some of the layout I need like character names and a key plot element),

A modern action/thriller series, a GWOT piece (just starting the some of the character development and plot line)

And a never ending fantasy piece for my wife and I and maybe anyone interested (this is going to take a while just to get multiple storylines down for major characters and redemption will be one of the themes), well maybe... I still have not decided to use elves, a small race (gnomes/hobbits) and dwarfs or something different. Also, the nightmarish army of evil monsters are being changed up (will not be orcs or trolls but will have undead and other evil creatures and yes WoW has tainted that.)

My printer is giving me issues and this is after spending money I did not really have to get a part and ink to get it up to send to the one I promised first dibs.

*Name will be changed as it is taken and copyrighted by Bantam Books.

Thoughts on Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs.

LTC David Grossman U.S. Army (Retired) wrote a book named ON COMBAT and published a portion on the internet called On Sheep, Wolves and Sheepdogs where he tells of an unnamed Vietnam Veteran's thoughts on society. The link is here for you to read for yourself: www.killology.com/sheep_dog.htm and see what you think of it yourself.

I first heard of this on a forum sometime back and found this an interesting thought on how some people tend to be the types to put on a uniform and protect and defend others, often those who do not want their protection or think it is unnecessary. But it goes beyond that, people who either cannot put on the uniform or have taken it off but are willing to defend the flock have been given the title Sheepdog. I am not talking about vigilantes nor am I talking about the Robin Hoods of the world. I am talking about those who will not idly standby and watch a Wolf harm a Sheep. They will act and defend the Sheep.

There is nothing wrong about being a Sheep. In some cases it shows a lot of strength and commitment. Sheep are people who either cannot commit violence needed for defense or themselves or others or have no violence in their hearts. Some Sheep will defend themselves if it is in extreme need but only then. Some have horns and it is not for looks. They often find themselves watching at the side lines and doing nothing, sometimes this does not involve Wolves. They tend to distrust and often dislike Sheepdogs because they remind them or even view them as Wolves and Sheepdogs have the same ability and fangs to commit violence. This is often seen in anti-gun laws and similar actions meant to defang both the Sheepdog and the Wolf.

Wolves are those who prey on the Sheep. They can and will use violence to feed off the Sheep and only think about themselves. The can either work in packs where they have strength in numbers or alone. They will prey on Sheepdogs but more often than not they are after the Sheep as they Sheep are easy prey for them. I could go on but all one needs to know is that Wolves will commit violence upon his fellow man as aims to a means and all too often for their own pleasure. The thing that strike me is, when sheep pass laws with the intent to disarm the Wolf, the Sheepdog suffers as well.

Sheepdogs are the warriors who protect the flock. They go and learn to use their fangs, condition themselves for combating Wolves and learn to recognize them. They cannot and will not intentionally harm a Sheep but they will bring down the Holy wrath on any Wolf who harms the flock. If they do then they are removed and banned. They do not just stand there, these are they men who will put down the damn camera and help the Sheep in need instead of just filming it. This also goes beyond protecting your offspring, it comes from a love of your fellow man and not just your family.

I often think of myself as a Sheepdog, sometimes as a sheep. I know that there is a time to bare my fangs and a time to just walk away when other Sheepdogs have the situation well in control or my presence will do more harm than good. I do find myself sticking my head in the grass and feed away unaware of the wolves and I find myself ready to face a wolf with tooth and claw. I cannot wear a uniform but you will find that I will not just stand idle and watch a Sheep just die. I will do what I can with what is at hand.

Get out and enjoy life!

People sit on the couch watching the world on electronic pixels in a box and find themselves revolving their entire life around that damned box. Who is going to remember watching TV five, ten, twenty years from now? Get out in the world, drag your kids and get an adventure. Go out to a park, visit a wilderness area, a museum! I take my little girl, and on occasion my wife, out to a near by lake and hit the woods, walk along the shore and enjoy nature. Don't except excuses from yourself any more than you would others. Most adventures are free, and once you get the gear needed for certain adventures, the costs are just gas and food.

I will remember showing my little girl the difference between a buck's track and a doe's track. I won't remember watching TV with her. Will she? I remember going out on nature hikes with my dad and marking points of interest for later use, I don't remember watching football on TV with him. I remember fishing on a boat in the middle of the night with Uncle David and Jim, not what was on the computer before we left. Would you? Will your kids? There is a reason Americans are viewed as fat and lazy, we are and we need to get out of our house. Given that my child has autism, I don't know what she will remember, I just know that she enjoys looking at flowers, fish and throwing rocks into the lake. And I enjoy watching her do that. I love having her with me.

Get out and enjoy life the best you can. Don't be afraid of screwing up or the big bad wolf. Just go somewhere and make it memorable!