There are no more great adventures to be had. Been there, done that, seen it, ho hum …right?
Wrong.
There are no more great adventures to be had. Been there, done that, seen it, ho hum …right?
Wrong.
It was one of those cases of serendipitous timing, and why I find EMS so interesting as an avocation. This morning, I jumped out of bed to help a helicopter land on the highway.
My writing time this week was interrupted: I only started in the late evening, because I had my satellite TV tuned in to the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, where they were monitoring the landing of the latest rover on Mars, Curiosity (the best-named science craft ever); the mission itself is called the Mars Science Laboratory — accurate, if not as inspiring.
I sometimes write about my fantastic experiences as a volunteer medic. Yet sometimes the experience isn’t so fantastic.
All emergency responders put themselves at great risk whenever they go on a call. This is a story of not beating the odds (but it could have been a lot worse).
My wife and I had the opportunity to “have dinner with” the first man to set foot on the moon, Neil Armstrong. It happened to be almost exactly* 43 years after that spectacular event. Like many kids who grew up in the 60s and watched that history being made, Armstrong was a hero to me, so when I got the opportunity to do this, I of course leapt at it.
A friend who is a career military man is retiring soon. He’s still pretty young, so he asked for some advice on what to do next; he sees that I’m pretty successful, and he wants to be successful too, in the next phase of his life.
If someone — probably a friend — sent you to this page, read it carefully! This is a true story, from This is True’s 15 January 2012 issue.
Now and then I mention ham radio. I’ve been an “amateur radio operator” (the more formal title) for [gasp] a third of a century now; I’m K0RCC. You’d think, with the Internet creating instant, “free,” worldwide communications, that ham radio would be dwindling away, with just a few old-timers (heck: even older than me!) grasping at the straws of “No! Don’t change!”
There’s a story that’s going around (and around, and around) that’s so full of crap, I thought it was time to set the record straight — it has turned into an urban legend. It also has some profound implications on how someone is trying to manipulate you.
One of the best things about writing This is True is I’m always learning interesting things.
I ran a story in this week’s issue in part to provoke. Before my editorializing here’s the story, from the 19 June 2011 issue:
Old jokes clogging your inbox are bad enough. Stupid “warnings” about the most unlikely hazards are worse: they irritate the smart people and panic the dumb ones. Now and then, when someone forwards an urban legend to a bunch of people, they really pay a big price.
A friend of mine asked me for some advice last week. He’s preparing to leave the military, and thought writing might be his next career. Did I have any pearls of wisdom?
I gave him two main pieces of advice. The second one: he must understand that there’s no such thing as “writer’s block.”
I can’t just title this page “The End of the World” because that has been predicted before. And before that. And before that, and — well, you get the idea.
A few thoughts about today’s earthquake and tsunami in Japan. The video coming out of there is horrific. There will surely be many thousands of casualties.
I write True to make a living, yes, and it’s gratifying that enough people support the publication to make that happen. But there’s another reason, too: I want to change the world just a little bit, on both a micro and a macro scale.
A few weeks ago I grumbled in a newsletter about the lousy ads I was getting on one of my sites, which were bringing a whopping 4.8 cents per click. I said “I may try Bing ads instead if Google doesn’t get me better [ads] soon.”
A special “extra” story this week. I’ve pulled it out separately because it doesn’t “really” fit in with True’s theme. While it is a bit weird, it’s certainly not about someone doing something stupid.
I generally don’t want suggestions for True’s Honorary Unsubscribe feature; my usual problem is having far too many possibilities for the one slot each week. In July 2009 a new trend started: people wanting me to do an Honorary Unsubscribe write-up for Ed Freeman, a brave Vietnam War helicopter pilot who saved about 30 shot-up kids and was awarded the Medal of Honor — the U.S.’s highest military decoration.
I’ve heard from several friends who spotted me in the Wall Street Journal today. It was just a tiny mention in an article about the Dvorak keyboard, an ergonomic alternative to the common “Qwerty” layout that you probably use.