Except with regards to a blog.
I have been very quiet lately, mostly due to the fact that in March of 2017 I returned to school and then in February of this year I changed jobs, leaving the company I had been with for the last 16 years to start working with a local school district.
Lots happening in the life and family of The Samurai these days, but I will make every effort to start posting on a regular basis again.
I was told recently that some of my posts here have been a little on the darker side. That while my messages may be positive, that the lead up to the good side of the message was a little dark.
I went through and looked at it and I do have to agree. But in my defense, I have been going through a pretty dark time. Anyone that reads this blog and either knows me from work or know about what happened, will know that I have been through a pretty fucked up period as a result of something that happened there.
I cannot and will not go into the details, so do not ask me, but suffice it to say that my trust in people has been damaged irreparably.
So that being said, I am going to start going back to some of the good thing I used to post here.
Since I will be moving soon, I thought I would write a piece about traveling and writing.
Just to be clear, this is Debs that will be moving, not your illustrious host, so that way you should not be sending Samuel any emails asking when he is moving.
have traveled a lot through my young life, I will not mention how many years that will be here very soon, but it has been a lot and in that time I have learned a lot about the lifestyle. It is not a lifestyle for everyone and many cannot handle it. I know that even I, raised in a military family and then a roving soul myself, have started to grow weary of not having a place to call my permanent home.
As I get ready to pick up sticks and move to Ft. Lauderdale, I am thinking that I would like for this to be my last move. I find myself with a person that I might like to settle down with and to a city, so I am told, is great for raising a family. I find myself looking back at all I have seen and all I have done and feel empty.
It is not because I do not like all that I have seen and done. I have enjoyed life and shared my tales with many through my writing. But most of the time it has been through the voices of other names. Like the one I am using now, I have never been myself when I share these tales. So you might say that I have been living other lives and other voices.
The chance I am being given will allow me to tell my stories and experiences through my own voice and with my real identity. Unfortunately I will not be sharing that name here, so do not ask. It will be a writing position where I will have a desk for the first time in my life that is not in my own house. I will have people wandering aimlessly around me with that same blank, lost expression that people tend to get when they are in a cubicle farm.
I am not belittling the new role I will have, in fact the feeling of having an office or cubicle is so rereshing to me that it is exciting. I will have a new, refreshing, level of monotony in my life, a regularity that I have not had before. I will not have to always search for something to write about, many times it will be handed to me.
I will miss writing things like this, and who knows… Maybe I will hand a story to Samuel from time to time and have him post it. We shall see.
I have two more articles in my commitment to this site and I am going to make them good for you guys. But I would like to, before I forget, thank Samuel for letting me be apart of this and best wishes to Rian, his other writer.
Howdy lovelies…
I would like to introduce myself.
I am Deborah Razzner and I have been invited to take the reins as an administrator on this site. I have been reading it a while and emailing with the Samurai himself for some time… so when he offered me this chance, I could not say no.
Well, I guess I could have, but where’s the fun in that.
So… I am here now and you can expect to see me on here writing from time to time and I will be taking a role in reading emails and comments from the community at large.
Again… Thanks Samurai for inviting me and I look forward to many years joining in the fun!!!
This is just a quick post regarding the recent meteor strike in the Urals.
First, and most seriously, my prayers to all those that were affected by the event. This has to be something unimaginable to happen to someone, and I would not have any way to identify with those who were there and affected by the hit.
When I think of things like this, it seems odd. We all understand that we are at the mercy of the earth for most disasters. Wind, rain, floods, earthquakes, etc… we all know that these are possible calamities that could affect us, dependent on where we live. But who expects a meteor strike?
I mean, it’s not like that is even something you can prepare or plan for. There are no meteor impact kits or things like that to even make you feel like you could be prepared.
I am just glad for all those people there that this was only an air burst. If that meteor had impacted the ground in one piece, at the speed it was traveling and the size it was, we would have been looking at a much different set of headlines.
If any of you that were affected by this event happen to stumble upon this page, you have my best wishes.
Can you believe that is has been ten years already?
So much has happened in that time, and yet it still seems like it was not that long ago. Children have been born or become adults, growing up with a hole in their lives where a parent used to be. Husbands and Wives moved on with their lives, yet never stopped thinking about the one that they lost in one of the airplanes or buildings.
So many people that might have gone on to greatness, been the next Nobel Laureate, the next great doctor or mathematician. Souls that might have gone on to create the next great idea, invent the next medicine that would have saved millions, wrote the next great book, been a great father or mother, grandfather or grandmother… lost.
Hands that will never hold a child, a lover, a sister, brother or other family member again. voices that we will never hear speak our names or be there to listen to others speak theirs. Lost chances of friendships, apologies, loves and dreams come true. Promises made that will never be fulfilled, someone making a trip to propose to someone they love… gone.
Then there is the hate that this has caused. Like the world needed one more thing to divide it’s people from one another, this has opened yet another rift. Not only creating a paranoia of anyone that looks like they might be middle-eastern, but also a hatred for anyone that is openly Muslim. I have lost track of how many times I have heard comments like, “Any Muslim is a terrorist.”, or various versions of the same. I have no delusions that it was Islamic Extremists that caused this, but I also do not believe that every person that practices Islam is an extremist or a terrorist.
My heart goes out to all those innocent lives that were lost on 11 September 2001. Further, my heart and best wishes go out to all those that survived or were survived by on that unfortunate day. The only thing that we can truly understand is that life will go on, the pain will lessen with time, but the scars and loss will remain. We cannot bring back those that were lost, but we can honor their memories by being better people in their honor.
For my September 11th, I am not going to mourn those lost, but celebrate life in the memory of those lost. I think that they would appreciate that more than feeling sorrow of their loss.
I am not turning this into a political debate… If anyone posts anything turning this into one, I will delete that post. I do not do that often… so take heed.
To all those that have been reading this series… I am truly sorry that I did not post this earlier. Most of you already know this information, but there are a few that do not follow me on Facebook, so this is for all of you.
On January 17th, 2011, our son was born.
Name: Gideon Samuel Wright
Weight: 8lbs 13oz.
I cannot tell you the joy I felt when I first heard his crying over the din of the operating room, or the sense of pure wonder when our doctor raised the child up and showed my wife and I this little miracle that we created together. This little person that is the product of mine and her love for one another.
As I write this, I hear this little bit of life in the other room crying as my wife changes his diapers. Something that has become our primary hobby these days, and probably will be for some time to come.
I would like to thank all of you, my readers, that have commented to me on this, both publicly and privately. All those who have shared their wishes with me and personal experiences.
I can honestly say that the adventure is just beginning.
I have gone back and corrected the dates, as the decision was made to deliver the baby on the 17th of this month, as opposed the the original date.
This will be the last installment of this series, and I hope that those of you who have taken the time to visit my site and read them, have enjoyed these and shared some of your own experiences with me. One thing that I have learned through this is that there seems to be no end to the kindness of those that have gone through what I have and the help that they are all willing to provide. It is as though a kind of unity or community exists among those who are expecting and those who have children.
In this last installment, I think I will just touch on dreams and plans. Those things that all parents think about when they have kids on the way, that I always laughed about when I saw others do it, and now am laughing at myself for doing the same.
To say that I have grand aspirations for this child is an understatement. I seriously doubt that there are many parents or would-be-parents, that sit back and say, “I want my child to grow up to be a world class douche-bag.”, though I may be wrong… who knows.
We all hope that our kids grow up to be doctors, scientists, inventors, etc. While there are exceptions, many don’t achieve this dream (whether it be their dream or that of their parents is not important.) But that does not mean that we, as the parents love them any less or think anything less of them.
I think the hardest part for me to accept, when the time comes, will be when my wife and I are no longer the center of our child’s universe. When that time comes that they stop being YOUR little girl or little boy, and discover everything that the world has to offer. This is but a natural part of life, and something everyone goes through.
I write this now, weeks before I meet this child, yet I already want to share everything I am with it. Not so much to make it what I never was, as someone recently suggested, but to share my love of just KNOWING. Knowing about the world, asking questions, learning why things work, how things break, all these things that we seem to take for granted as adults, but through the eyes of a child, we can live through again. To become a child again in their eyes and live vicariously through them to experience the wonder.
I have been taking great joy in sharing the pregnancy with my wife, and yes, we are sharing it. People laugh at me and make little jokes when I say that, but you do share this experience. I may not be experiencing all the pain and feelings that she is feeling, but that does not make my part any less. All the worries, excitement, joy of feeling that first kick against her belly as the baby begins to fire up those muscles. Those experiences are both of ours.
I hope, in the fullness of time, when this child is older, that they read this blog, and see what I have written. Every bit of this is for him or her as much as it is for me to get these feelings out in print. I have no idea what the personality of this child will be, I have no way to predict the paths that they will have open to them or the choices that they will take. But I think that between my wife and I, and all the people that we have surrounded ourselves with that will offer a positive and creative environment for him or her, that this child has every chance in the world of being a great person. Maybe not famous, rich or popular, but in the areas that it matters, a great person.
To you… my readers. I thank you so very much for coming with me on these first steps to our adventure. I have enjoyed sharing this with you. I may not know who many of you are, but I hope that you have enjoyed reading my journey through the last 10 weeks of our pregnancy. The most exciting part of the journey is just about to begin for us.
In closing, I am reminded of a line by Jawaharlal Nehru…
“We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure. There is no end to the adventures that we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open.”
Part IV…. The Meaning of Life.
One of the things that keeps popping in my head through the process of getting ready to be a father is the humor in it all. Trust me, there is humor.
You see, I was brought up in a family that dwelt on the British style of humor. That comedy that borders on the ironic and dry, yet has the subtle flavor of dignified slap-stick humor. Stuff that looks at life and, no matter what the situation, makes fun of it.
Throughout the stages of acceptance and understanding, I have constantly looked at each part with a detached “WWJCD” attitude. That would stand for “What Would John Cleese Do?” For those of you who are not familiar with the name, please follow this link, or watch “A Fish Called Wanda.”
I have always looked at life a little on the side of the jester. There is entirely too much seriousness in life as it is to take it seriously on a full time basis. Every now and again you need to take a moment… go to a nice quiet place and let the part of you out, a part that we all have, that is stark raving mad. You can even share that part with friends, but I will not promise that the outcome will be what you might be hoping for.
I hope that I will get to share and impart some of this philosophy with the child. I hope that as we grow together, we can entertain Naty with a re-enactment of “The Parot Sketch” or cause friends and family alike to groan with embarrassment by doing the “Silly Walk” in public together.
I would like to raise the child to understand, as I was raised, that there are many things that you need to be mature and serious about, but that there are many many more that you should look at and treat as a under-seasoned herring, and liberally sprinkle it with the salt of humor and parody.
I hope that by the time our child is 18, they can not hear the phrase “It’s just a waffer thin mint” or “…and now for something completely different.” without busting up laughing. Who will be able to hear the word “Bugger” or “Buggery” and laugh when the person using it has no clue what they are saying.
Life IS too serious. There ARE to few times, anymore, that allow us to sit back and laugh so hard that our sides hurt, and if the present administration is any sign, it is only going to get worse. So I hope that our child picks up on my feelings and types of humor and they become part of his or her id.
While I strongly suspect that this type of humor from our child may drive my Mother-in-Law over the edge, causing her to speak in tongues and generally pop a fuse, I think that it would be grand and uniquely beneficial to the little one. It may also make for several interesting Parent/Teacher meetings when the child starts going to school.
The time is getting closer, folks… While I have written these at around the T-Minus 10 weeks mark, one never knows how life is to be played out. If there is a change, and the child comes early, then I will let these articles run their course, but I will also send out a special announcement to let you all know what it is and when it was born.
Thank you for reading.
It’s strange how things work out. How you plan something, working out what you think are important details, then when you are actually at the point where the thing you had hoped and planned for, actually comes to pass… nothing you planned actually survives first contact with reality.
This is like the old saying, “No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy.” Only in this case there is no enemy, just the realization of our dreams.
Names.
One of the things that Naty and I spoke about for years was names for any children we might have. We wanted to have names that were not JUST names for the sake of a name. We wanted strong, powerful or meaningful names that the child would grow into and might, through understanding the origin of their name, strive to live a live that would pay honor or respect to their namesake.
My name, Samuel, was given to me for two reasons. First, it was the name of my father and second, for Samuel the Prophet. I am sure that my mother considered other names, but to her, she saw the name Samuel or, in Hebrew, Shmu’el, for me. Likewise, my brother was given the name Benjamin, The Patriarch. While neither of us became anything special or worthy of the history of the names we were given, they were strong names none the less.
When we spoke of naming our child, we thought, ever so briefly, of naming a boy Samuel. But then we considered the lineage. My Name is Samuel; my father’s name was Samuel, and the same with my Grandfather and great-grandfather. Needless to say, there was some repetition in the choice of names. So we decided that subjecting our child to the doomed title of the 4th was not an option.
One of the names that we thought of early for a boy was Ellery. I have always liked that name, and I used to read the Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine on a regular basis as well as watch the TV series of the same name, back a few years ago. In spite of the popular and literary history of the name, it too has a good past and meaning. So we were happy with that.
For girl’s names, there really was never a question about that. It was always going to be one of two names. It was going to be either Lydia Elizabeth or Daisy Faye, both names that paid homage to our families. Lydia was for Naty’s mother and Elizabeth for my mother’s middle name. Daisy was also to celebrate Naty’s mom by using the name she had as a child and Faye was for my Grandmother, on my mom’s side, who passed away when my mother was very young.
I am not sure why choosing a boy’s name was so much more difficult that picking a girl’s name, it just seemed like nothing worked until we found Ellery.
Reality sets in…
Everything you see written prior to this changed the moment we discovered that we were pregnant. Prior to that point, it was all purely speculation, just thinking about what we would do if it actually happened.
We had been trying for some time, but since nothing was happening, we were getting to that point that most people get to at some point where we were just accepting that it would not happen to us. It was one of those things where we were not ready for our wish to actually be granted. Suddenly the names that we had spent so much time thinking about and considering for their meaning and strength, we called into question. “Did we really want to name a child this?” We asked ourselves, and then set about to rethink all our plans.
Looking through our past and through the various names we liked, we came up with our choices. I will not post these here, the people who need to know what they are, know. When they child is born and we know what sex it is, then we will name the child. At that time, I will add a post welcoming the child into the world and sharing this new life with you. Let it be said for now, that the naming process… the selection of the names was not as easy as we thought it was. There was a lot to consider, but I think we have some winners that will be strong names and will celebrate the family.
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