Been awhile...

It has been far too long since my last post, and for that I apologize. It is funny how life seems to rush by you, leaving you chasing the fleeting moments as the fly by. My life is no exception. So many things have transpired in the months since my return from Iraq. For the first time in 4 years my life has started to take a turn towards the norm. I am working, going to school, and doing what I can to enjoy all that life has to offer. With this shift in lifestyle, I felt a need to document life in a way other than what I have done here. This does not mean that I am abandoning this blog, although the past 6 months are evidence of the differ. With this said, I invite you all to take a look at my newest blog concoction, c l i c k 3 6 5. I will be approaching this new blog with more images than words. I am doing my best to post a new image everyday, a photographic diary of sorts. Some images may simply be "a day in the life of", while others may be images from which I draw inspiration from others. Either way, stop on by and check it out.

And for the few fans of my musical selections, I have new podcasts in the works for you as well. Again, you can check out
c l i c k 3 6 5 for details.

I wish you all the Happiest of Holidays.

Hope to see you soon.

-atw

one month...

One month... I have been home for one month to date. Looking back now it all feels like a dream. I see images of Iraq on the front page of the newspaper, videos on TV, yet it doesn't seem like I was really there. That is until I go to the movies with my wife and find myself instinctively reacting to the sound of rocket fire coming through in Dolby surround sound. It is still something that I look back upon in a dreamlike state. Why? I have no idea.

The human mind can do some pretty incredible things. When placed in an environment where it seems no one should be able to adapt, people do. Not only surviving, but thriving amidst the stress and turmoil surrounding them. Yet, at the same time I think it is hard for many to mentally grasp all that is going on. Compartmentalizing things in their mind to help digest life with a little more ease. I know that I am finding out I did just that. Things are slowly starting to come back to me...Slowly emerging in my thoughts. Making self realizations from time to time that help me put it all back together in my head.

I am not promising, but only aspiring to write at least once a week. Not just for you to read, but to help me get this story, my story, out of my brain and onto paper. So, stick around...I know I have been a ghost for the past month, but there are still a lot of stories left to tell.

Until then...

this is our last goodbye...

After spending 48 sleepless hours at Baghdad International Airport, I finally found myself walking towards a plane...a home bound plane.

Although a sand storm had tried to keep me in Iraq, it was time for me to go. The emotions encompassing my mind as I walked towards the plane were a mixed up, grab bag of chaos and clarity. Knowing that I would be home in a few days was too much for me to comprehend, so I pushed that thought to the back of my brain. I also felt as though I was leaving things undone, as if I had not done enough and needed to stay to see things through. These people still needed me, right?

The Air Force Sergeant led us in a single file towards the cargo bay door of a C-130. I quietly found myself looking around in awe...watching a pillar of smoke rise in the distance, smelling the scent of burning trash, feeling the grit of sand on my skin. It seemed like it was just yesterday when I was getting off of a plane and watching, smelling, and feeling all of these things for the first time. Perhaps, this time will be my last.

The closer I got to the plane the more I felt as though I was actually going to be leaving. The more I believed I was actually going to be leaving the happier I became. Yet, my happiness was shattered when I set foot on the plane. Laying before me was a comrade, Fallen and wrapped in the warmth of Our Flag, he was making his final journey home. A journey bringing him home, but never bringing him back.

Silent tears escaped my eyes.

Knowing how much my family went through on this deployment, I cannot even begin to fathom what it must be like for this Soldiers family. I immediately felt guilty. Here I was, going home unscathed and whole, while others never return.

I couldn't shake this image, these thoughts. What is it all for? Did this Soldier believe in what he was doing over there? Was he at peace with himself when he left this world?

There are rumors that some soldiers know, or feel, that they are going to die days or weeks before it happens. Was he one of them? Jeff Buckley immediately came to mind.

Jeff Buckley was a singer songwriter who died after writing songs foreshadowing his death. His most notable song is aptly named "Last Goodbye", where he croons and wails about love, and how he came to terms with its death...with his death.

I wanted to know that the soldier laying before me was able to come to terms with his death, with his life. I know that I will never know the answer to those questions. They are not answers for my ears to hear, but only for his heart to know.

May God bless him and welcome him home, as my family has welcomed me.

This is not the end of my story, but rather the beginning.

There are many stories still in need of telling.

Only time will tell if I will do them justice...

Catch Up!

So, I know I haven't posted in awhile. I promise to try to do so very shortly. In the meantime, here is a quick update. I will be leaving here within the week. I can't put out dates or times, just know that I will be heading home very, very shortly! It has been a crazy ride and I have done and seen things I never thought I ever would. I promise to write something much more eloquent and heartfelt this weekend. But, for now here are the last 3 radio shows that I have been slacking on posting.

Enjoy!


:Easter Sunday Show - Hour 1:

:Easter Sunday Show - Hour 2:

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::Remember the Nineties? - Hour 1::

::Remember the Nineties? - Hour 2::

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:::Free For All - Hour 1:::

:::Free For All - Hour 2:::

Threesome at Saddam's house...anyone?

I awoke early yesterday. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I quietly packed a few of my things before heading out the door. The sun was just beginning to rise as I left my room and walked through the palace courtyard. This was going to be a good day.

As I approached the Republican Palace Pool people were already starting to gather around. They were marking their bodies with race numbers, stretching, spinning on their bikes, etc. You know, the normal routine seen at every other triathlon around the world. But, wait...we're in Baghdad!

I must admit I have run some triathlons in some fairly abnormal conditions. Hell, my very first triathlon ever was in a swamp down in Louisiana, where a Game Warden had to flush out all of the alligators in the area before we could start the swim. Although that ranks high on my list of strange places to compete, swimming, biking, and running in Saddam Hussein's backyard takes the cake.

So, here we are in the middle of Baghdad kicking off the Baghdad Triathlon Club's 2008 season. Gotta love this stuff! Since Baghdad has had a surprisingly chilly winter, yes it actually snowed this winter, water temperatures were holding steady at about 64 degrees! Shockingly no one had wetsuits so we did a reverse tri, with the order of events being run, bike, and then swim. The idea behind this was to help speed things along by allowing the run and bike to spread the field so that no one would be stuck waiting to get into the pool. This event order also allowed the temperatures to rise a little, making the jump into the water a little less shocking to our bodies. This sounds good in theory, but trust me, that water was damn cold!

Before I get ahead of myself, let us start in the beginning...



45 of us gathered at the starting line to begin the race on foot. It was a quick 1.5 mile out and back winding through the dust and gravel of the US Embassy compound within the "Green Zone". The run went quickly and before you knew it we were transitioning to the bike. Much like our wetsuits, most left their tri bikes back in the states as well. To accommodate for this we rode in 2 divisions, those who had their mountain bikes and townies did a quick 4 mile double loop very similar to the run route, while others, like myself, hopped on a trusty stationary bike to pedal our way through the 4 miles. I used this opportunity to draft behind the former "Blue Angel", Rear Admiral Driscoll. That's me in the yellow "Livestrong" jersey right behind the Admiral.



After the quick ride on my stationary steed it was in to the cold water of the pool. Luckily the swim was only 250 Meters. I was in and out before I knew it. After exiting the water it was over. My first race of 2008 is under my belt, and I did it in Baghdad no doubt! I think this is going to be the start of a very good season.


The best thing about this race was getting to be around the people. The race director David Moore is a God send.(That's him in the Army shirt pre-race!) He coordinated this race in conjunction with a race being held in Manassas, Virginia. You can read all about it here. Not only did the guys in Virginia sponsor this race, they treated us not only to an official race packet, but they also donated tons of other goodies for us. In every packet a brand new TYR Triathlon Race Suit was included! They provided this, along with many other things, for free! If I ever make it out to Manassas again I will be sure to stop by and thank these guys personally. This was just another example of the love and support shown to the Military Men and Women by the American people. Thank you guys for always being there!

Serving in Baghdad has been quite an interesting journey for me. As my time is drawing to an end I can't help but to think about how I have changed. Wondering how this time has truly affected my life. Since I am already on the topic of triathlons, let me say this...

I am viewing this time here as a transition area so to speak. Completing one aspect in the race of life, while transitioning into the next. Perhaps my life hasn't always gone as planned, but most races never do. It's all about what you do to overcome those challenges that defines who you are. This analogy is one of the reasons that I love triathlon. It not only helps overcome physical challenges, but it helps you overcome life's challenges as well. It's days like today that make me come back for more...one more swim...one more ride...one more run. Further preparing me for the ever changing conditions I face traveling through the course of life.

Thank you Baghdad Triathlon Club, here's to a great season!

:: Ode To Ireland ::

My apologies for posting the show a little late this week. I have a lot going these days as my time in Iraq is drawing to a close. I also apologize for my lack of posts in general lately. Hopefully this weekend I can make it up to you.

So, this show aired last Sunday, March 16th. It was my hopes to get everyone into the spirit of St. Patty's day with some good ol' Irish music. Here is my meager attempt to do just that...

Ode to Ireland - Hour 1

Ode to Ireland - Hour 2

:: Double Shots, Deuces, & Duos ::

So, this week has been fairly hectic... So, I threw together a show rather quickly. I am finding that I prefer to have a theme for each show. It helps me focus and keeps me from bouncing all over the place with my music selection. I had a whole "From New York to London" show planned in my mind, but getting the time to research all of the bands and their heritage, etc. was difficult this week. So, I decided to run with a "Double Shot Show", playing two songs by each artist. Here are the results. Not my best show by far, but fun nevertheless. Thanks for everyones support. You guys are the best!

Download and listen here:

:: Double Shots, Deuces, & Duos : Hour 1 ::

:: Double Shots, Deuces, & Duos : Hour 2 ::


And the play list :

Hour 1 --

Foo Fighters – The Pretender
– Times Like These (Acoustic)

Feist – I Feel It All
– My Moon My Man

Actual Tigers - Testimony
- Standing By

Editors – An End Has A Start
– Smokers Outside The Hospital Doors

Bright Eyes – First Day Of My Life
– Hot Knives

Iron & Wine – Boy With A Coin
– Love Song Of The Buzzard

Billy Bragg & Wilco - Secret Of The Sea
- California Stars

Hour 2 --

Beastie Boys – No Sleep ‘Til Brooklyn
– Paul Revere

Stephen Malkmus – Gardenia
– Mama

Drive By Truckers – Easy On Yourself
- Never Gonna Change

Straylight Run – Existentialism On Prom Night
- Still Alone

Cat Power – Free
– Living Proof
- New York

Brendan Benson – Tiny Spark
- Metarie

Patty Griffin – Blue Sky
- Let Him Fly

:: Mission Underground Soundtrack Show ::

For your listening pleasure here is another fun filled episode of Mission Underground. This week I went with a theme based show, playing songs from TV and Movie soundtracks. Here is the play list along with the audio files for download.

Download and listen here...

Soundtrack Show Hour 1

Soundtrack Show Hour 2


Hour 1 Play list ::

Weezer – Island In The Sun (Out Cold)
Jack Johnson – Bubble Toes (Out Cold)
Bob Schneider – Big Blue Sea (40 Days & 40 Nights)
Travis – Side (The Office)
Pete Droge & The Sinners – Beautiful Girl (Beautiful Girls)
Violent Femmes – Blister In The Sun (Grosse Point Blank)
Rolling Stones – Beast of Burden (The Family Man)
Wilco – Box Full of Letters (Beavis and Butthead)
Damien Rice – The Blowers Daughter (Closer)
Elliott Smith – Miss Misery (Good Will Hunting)
Ryan Adams – Nuclear (Smallville)
Beck – Lost Cause (Along Came Polly)
Turin Brakes – Pain Killer (The Last Kiss)
Gary Jules & Michael Andrews – Mad World (Donnie Darko)

Hour 2 Play list ::

The Flaming Lips – Do You Realize? (50 First Dates)
Badly Drawn Boy – Silent Sigh (About A Boy)
Radiohead – Fake Plastic Trees (Clueless)
Joseph Arthur – Honey and The Moon (American Wedding)
Chris Cornell – Sunshower (Great Expectations)
David Garza – Slave (Great Expectations)
Blue Swede – Hooked On A Feeling (Reservoir Dogs)
The Ramones – I Wanna Be Sedated (Detroit Rock City)
The Pixies – Wave Of Mutilation (Pump Up The Volume)
Stereophonics – Maybe Tomorrow (Wicker Park)
The Shins – New Slang (Garden State)
Pretenders – Brass In Pocket (Lost In Translation)
The White Stripes – I Just Don’t Know What To Do With Myself (My Best
Friends Wedding)
Spoon – The Book I Write (Stranger Than Fiction)


This show is what's keeping me sane around here!

I hope you guys enjoy.

Until next time...

your song and sleep deprivation

It’s 12:30 in the morning and I am wide awake. Tonight is no exception. This is the norm…

This is my life…

I have always been nocturnal. Though the military has done what it can to change that, It has been ineffective in its attempts. Do I get up and make it work at the time Uncle Sam prescribes, yes. Do I struggle to make it happen, no. Do I feel like a ghost most days, yes.

And that’s that.

I don’t know if this will ever change for me. When asked by my family how I am doing , ninety nine percent of the time my reply is “ I am good, just tired.” It seems I have been tired my entire life.

Aren’t we all?

Lately I have been taking notice of replies and reactions. Spying a yawn, or eyes hanging lower than the setting sun. Open, only wide enough to maintain some small sliver of coherence. This is the life we have chosen for ourselves. These are the lives we lead. And I speak not only of my military companions here in Iraq, for I see and hear it in others back home as well.

In fact, I am so tired right now that I do not even know what I am writing, yet that does not stop me from turning my computer off and going to bed. I will not lay haste upon such an important task as updating my blog. Never shall I be defeated by the demons of sleep. I will overcome. I will prevail.

So, here I am, twenty minutes later from when I embarked on this literary (no laughing) journey, with nothing more to show other than too many paragraphs explaining, and exploring, and imploring the thoughts of restlessness and fatigue.

The truth of the matter is that I don’t want to turn my music off. It is my escape. I get so “into” my music that I cannot fall asleep while listening to it. I get so wrapped up in the words being sung, embraced by their beauty, that I cannot fall asleep. Each melody transporting me to another place. Every chorus reminding me of another time. For example.

Sam Beam is whispering in my ear… weaving a tale of a young woman by the name of “Jezebel”, while majestically taking me to the East Village of Manhattan. Every time this song touches my ears I do not find myself in Iraq, I am in New York City. It is October. I am walking down the street with my good friends Joe and Christine at 3 o’clock in the morning* with aspirations of getting a tattoo. And, we’re singing “Jezebel” at the top of our lungs! We would have sung all the way home had we not stopped at Crif Dogs and stuffed our mouths with cheese fries and Chihuahua’s. (I assure you no animals were harmed in the making of that evening. Put down the phone. PETA, nor the SPCA need to be called. )

* (See paragraphs above for previous commentary on my sleep deprivation.)

Now Sufjan Stevens is crooning about a shadfly that is caught in Bobby’s hair. Does that mean anything to you? No. Do I care about Bobby or his shadfly? Not a bit. But, I can tell you this… My wife hates Sufjan Stevens, and reminds me of it at the very mention of his name. Perhaps, to me, that is part of his charm. Not that I like to torture my wife with my music collection, but every time I hear his voice I can’t help but smile and revel in the fact that if Stacey was sitting next to me she would be rolling her eyes and begging me to change the music.

And for a moment she is here, by my side.

Am I trying to say that music is what is polluting the psyche of humanity and the cause of the aforementioned universal fatigue? Absolutely not. I am just telling you why I can’t sleep tonight.

See you should have listened to me earlier when I said that I have no Idea what I am writing right now. For some reason, tonight I felt so inclined as to let the iPod run and set my fingers free, typing at will. This is what you have now been subjected to. The incessant ramblings of a sleepless sailor lost in a sea of sand. (Say that 5 times really fast!)

Yes, I am a dork. I know this.

Okay, now where was I?

Music.

Right.

So…

As cheesy as it is, I watched the film “August Rush” this evening. Please keep in mind that I had no idea what the movie was about before watching it. However, as cheesy and emotionally driven as it was, it wasn’t a bad film. I could relate to many of its themes. Not the, I’m an orphan and a musical prodigy feel it had to it, but the idea that music is all around us… in us… in everything.

I am by no means a musical prodigy. In fact musically, I feel as thought I should be wearing a safety helmet and be placed in the “special” music class. There is nothing I hate more than walking into a music store and seeing an 11 year old wailing on a guitar in a manner that would put Hendrix to shame. Trust me it happens. I tell you this for one reason only. You don’t have to be a musical genius. You don’t even have to be a musician. Hell, you don’t even have to know how to play an instrument to hear the music.

Music is in everything. Yes, it is there. Can you hear it? Do you even know what your listening for?

The shutting of a door. The ticking of a clock. Leaves crackling beneath your feet. A mother doing the dishes. Children playing in the yard. Waves crashing into the sand. Car horns honking on the street.

It all comes together…

Adding and subtracting thoughts and sounds until it adds up to something you can grasp. A song you can hear… A song you can feel. A song that can take you places.

To many this may sound obscure, or even obscene. But I challenge you this… The next time you are on the street… in a noisy restaurant… laying in your bed wide awake… Close your eyes and listen to the soundtrack of your life. It may not be as poetic or as polished as Brittany’s last album, but it is yours.

Your life… Your world… Your song.

What does your song say about you?

:: :: Mission Underground Vol. II :: ::

As promised, here is the recording of my latest radio show. I apologize for the poor sound quality, but limited bandwith only allows me to upload small files.

I also apologize for the lack in my writing lately. I promise to post something very soon...possibly tomorrow.

Until then enjoy...!

Mission Underground 8 FEB Hour 1

Mission Underground 8 FEB Hour 2

Mission Underground Goes Live...!

Alright guys... After weeks of planning I finally got to go live with my new radio show "Mission Underground." Everything went well, although I was nervous as I have ever been. It's a little different talking music with my friends, compared to talking music into a microphone with 100,000 troops, and who knows how many Iraqi's tuning in. However, I got a lot of good feedback from people, as they seemed to have liked the show.

So, per everyone's request you can now listen/download the shows by clicking on the links below. It was recorded into hour segments, and I hate to tell you this, but the first 10 minutes of the show was cut off due to an issue with our recording device. So, you'll have to do without hearing my jittery, nervous self talking live on air for the very first time.

Please keep in mind that I am by no means a professional! With that said, enjoy!

Mission Underground Hour 1

Mission Underground Hour 2

::Mission Underground::

So, tomorrow I will start broadcasting my very own radio show. Airing throughout Iraq Sunday nights from 6-8 p.m. I'll be playing lots of stuff not usually heard on mainstream radio, Indie/Alternative/Americana music, etc...

I am going to do my best to record every show and post it online in podcast form for your listening pleasure. I will be sure to let you guys know as soon as that is available.

If you were wondering what the music was that started playing as soon as you loaded this page... Well, that is a little "spot" I produced for my show. If for some reason the audio doesn't automatically load you can listen to it by clicking here. This was my first attempt, so lemme know what you think.

If you can't tell I am very excited about this opportunity! I just hope it all goes well.

Enough about that.

74 days until I start to head home, but who's counting right? The time has been flying by, it seems as if I just got here. I am sure Stacey feels a little differently about this than I do. Although I do like working here, I will be very glad to be home!

Until next time...

letters from the disgruntled

I awoke to rain pouring down on my trailer this morning. The first thoughts when hearing rain in Iraq is Mud! Before I came here I had always thought of Iraq as nothing but sand and desert. Like with most things here, I was wrong. The sand here is more of a fine silt, dusty almost. The mixture of the silty sand, dirt, and water turns this place into a sloppy mess of mud. Think of pig pens, four wheeling, and two women...uh...er...I better stop there before my mother reads this. Needless to say mud is not fun for anyone involved, at least not in this particular fun filled environment.

Other than the mud, life has been treating well lately. My time here is flying by and I will be home in less than 3 months. It is hard to believe that the end is in sight when it feels like my time here has just begun. Trust me, I am by no means complaining. Although, I am happy to be here and feel as though we are doing our part in the efforts going on, I miss my home...my family...my wife.

I received an interesting letter yesterday, and by interesting I mean threatening! It was not sent out of malice or hate, nor was it threatening me with harm. It was sent with love. The kind of motherly love that kicks in when its time to give their children a spanking. You know the old "this hurts me more than it hurts you"routine? Yep, that's the one!

It seems that I may have portrayed things in my writing very different from how I feel. This particular person, who will remain anonymous (Joni Minton), wrote to me reminding me of what I am here for. Explaining to me the reasoning behind the love and support that I have so richly been blessed with, for that I will always be greatful. In fact let me read you a snippet of the letter...

"Ok! It is time for a chewing out young man! I am tired of hearing you put yourself down because you aren't in the middle of the desert in a hummer firing rounds off an M16 or whatever! I will tell you just like I told Jeremey...your orders sent you to the very place that God Intended for you to go! For whatever reason, for whatever purpose, He sent you there, and not just there, but to do the very job that you are doing!...

...And I will tell you something else, just because you aren't doing what you think you "should" or "could" be doing doesn't mean that you aren't making a sacrifice for your country! You are! You ask your wife, your mother, father, sisters, grandmother and grandfather even your OLD aunt! You are making an extreme sacrifice, and you volunteered to do it!...

...And another thing...imagine me shaking my finger at you!..."

As you can see I am getting the love and support from back home, whether I want it or not!

But... She is right. I have never meant to come across as being downtrodden about being here, or what I am doing here. I know that what I am doing here does have an affect on this war. It affects the soldiers who are at the tip of the spear, actually firing rounds, and negotiating hostile areas. It affects all of you back home, not just my family, but all Americans. It affects the good people in Iraq who are doing all they can to rebuild this country. I understand this, and I am more than happy that I can be a part of the efforts taking place here. The rebuilding of Iraq will take time, and it will take the help of everyone to make this happen. I know that somehow, someway my efforts here are helping that day to grow closer. That is why I get out of bed every morning and continue to do what I do, and why I always know that I have the support of those back home.

I guess distance has a way of letting things get lost in translation, especially for those who do not know me personally. Those who do know me have the joy of knowing my dry, witty, sarcastic humor, which I usually try to convey when I write. My last entry, "Convoyager", was not written out of self pity, but rather out of such humor. I apologize if it may have come across as anything but, which apparently it did... Just ask my OLD aunt!

So, I will pack up my things for the day. Load my bags into the back of my mini-van and drive off into the Iraqi sunset with the knowledge that I am making a difference...

One mini-van drive at a time...just pray I don't get stuck in the mud.

Convoyager... Plymouth that is

Sometimes I feel like a fake. A fraud. A phony.

Today I had some co-workers miss lunch. They were out on a shoot(video that is) and didn't make it back in time. Knowing that today was going to be a long day and that they needed to get their freshly shot video edited and put together they asked me to go grab some food for them. No big deal, right? I am always more than willing to look after my people, especially when they are the ones who in turn take care of me. So off I go to grab them some food from the base exchange.

As I pull up into the parking lot I notice very quickly that it is packed. There are armored vehicles everywhere! From Humvees to Strikers, M-RAP's to Bradleys... Something is going on at the exchange today. As I pass these vehicles, and the crews standing outside of them, I notice that everyone is staring at me. Not just a few, but every person that I pass.

Although I am in the heart of Iraq right now, what has the US ARMY so graciously bestowed upon me...?

A soccer mom, kid toting, side door sliding, grocery getting MINI VAN!

A mini van. Seriously.

When I had first found out about my orders to Iraq I had envisioned convoys in Humvees...I would be the gunner. With my M-4 and NVG's in tow, I would be running supplies and personnel throughout the country. I would be a true warrior. Out on the streets doing what American troops are supposed to be doing...fighting terrorism and winning the hearts and minds of the innocent Iraqis. Nowhere in my wildest dreams did I expect to be driving around in a beat up old mini-van.

Yet, there I was in a parking lot full of troops just coming in off the streets, many of whom had been engaged in combat only hours before, driving a mini-van as if I was on a weekly trek to wal-mart.

If I was them I would have stared too. They are coming from one of the deadliest areas this generation has ever seen, why I drive around inside the comfort of the base in a mini-van.

My wife tells me that I won't be happy until I am miserable. Perhaps she is right. I feel that there is so much work that needs to be done here in Iraq, and feel as though I am not able to help accomplish any of it.

I am not the warrior, the purveyor of supplies and truth, convoying all over the country like I had envisioned. I am just a sailor lost in a sea of sand and solitude trying to find my way... One mini-van ride at a time.