Monday, December 6, 2010
Just doing my part...
Sunday, October 17, 2010
The land of the free and the home of the brave
He shipped off this week for his thirteen weeks of basic training – an adventure I affectionately termed “summer camp” fully aware it would be unlike any summer camp he’d ever attended. Was he prepared for this? Had we raised him right? How would we know? How does any parent know when the day comes to turn your son or daughter loose into the grown-ups world if you’ve done it right?
The comfort I drew from as I contemplated these questions did not come from anything I had done, but what he had done that proved him ready – proved him worthy – of being a Marine. He had been a fire explorer and rose to the highest officer rank within that organization. He was a competitive swimmer for six years and was selected to be the co-captain of the high school swim team and receiving awards for being most-improved and most inspirational. He took EMT class as a high school elective, competing in (and winning) the state high school EMT competition. Then he went on to the national competition in Orlando and won third in the nation. He had been a boy scout for eight years, rising to the rank of Eagle scout, being inducted into the Order of the Arrow and was voted into the Vigil – the national honor society of the boy scouts – a honor bestowed on less than one percent of all scouts.
Reflecting back, it seems as though nearly everything he did from age 12 through graduation culminated in his rise to a leadership position. Yes, he was ready to be a United States Marine.
Even as he prepared to ship he was setting goals. “Dad, I want to be the Company Honorman.” I didn’t know what that was so he had to explain to me that each company has one person selected to carry the Guide (the flag of the company) during the graduation ceremony. This will be the only Marine in the company in a Class-A uniform. I remember thinking to myself, almost humorously, “That sure will make you easier to see at graduation.” (But I didn’t tell him that.) The selection criteria for company honorman is not widely known but if it is based on leadership, I think he is well prepared.
There are several good websites designed to support Marine recruits and their families. These sites tell parents what their Marine sons and daughters will be doing every week of their training. Watching the videos on those sites assure me that the Marines are doing a thorough job of preparing my son for the honored task of protecting the freedom all of us enjoy, and many take for granted. Remember, we are the land of the free because we are the home of the brave who protect our freedoms around the world.
Semper Fi, my son, and to all service men and women – recruits, reservists, active duty and retired.
Richard B. Gasaway, PhD, EFO, CFO, MICP
www.richgasaway.com
Marine support websites
www.recruitparents.com
www.marineparents.com
Sunday, September 19, 2010
If you want a big tip from me, you'd better give exceptional service.
For dinner I had a Cobb Salad (one of my favorite on-the-road salads) and a glass of water to drink. The bill came to around $9.50. I realize that's not a big ticket dinner item, but the service was lousy. The waiter didn't even come back to my table during my meal. The salad was delivered by someone else, so essentially I saw this waiter two times, once when he took my order and once when he dropped off the bill. I had a $50 bill that I wanted to change up for a cab ride in the morning so I set the $50 on top of the bill at the end of the table. The service was not good and I contemplated how much tip I should leave.
As I was contemplating what to leave for a tip the waiter came by, picked up the money and the bill and said "Do you need me to bring you change?" I realize that is probably a standard waiter response when they pick up a check and I suspect he said it without even looking at the denomination of the money, but he should have.
I was tempted to ask if he thought the quality of his service and the personal attention he had paid to me during my dinner was worth a $40 tip on a $10 bill, but I didn't say a word. I let my tip do the talking for me... which is a shame because I have been known to give 30-50% tips when the service is impressive.
Fire Chief (ret.) Richard B. Gasaway, PhD, EFO, CFO, MICP
www.RichGasaway.com
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Tis the season
Don't get me wrong, along the way I have come across a few whose intentions were righteous and who were true public servants. But I have to honestly say they have been few and far between. Most have been very selfish in their motives, often thinking they were hiding it well (but they weren't).
I was told one time by a very seasoned elected official that the true motivation of every politician is to get re-elected. While I don't know if that's true for all, I can certainly say I've seen my share who look for every angle to make themselves look better than they deserve. Whether that's a photo opportunity with uniformed personnel (after just voting no for the purchase of a critical piece of safety equipment) or publicly praising the efforts of police officers and firefighters after bashing the same people in an executive session to discuss their union contract.
Now it's political season and we are being peppered with mean spirited ads on TV including name calling, back stabbing and mud slinging that have little to do with the real issues we average Americans care about. I see yard signs springing up all over the place for people that most voters know little about. It's scary to think that someone might actually vote for a candidate because that's the name they see most often on a yard sign.
I recall one election where a candidate I would rate as pathetic was running for an office that was important in my community. There were yard signs everywhere for this candidate - enough to cause me to believe this person had an amazing (and unbelievable) amount of support in the community. As I groused about this to another elected official, I was promptly reminded "Yard signs don't vote. People vote." A sage observation. The rogue politician lost the election and our community was much better off for that.
I can't wait for the political season to be over. Political elections are like eating sausage. You may enjoy the outcome, but you sure don't want to watch it being made. I think my blood pressure dropped 20 points the day I retired from being a public official, thanks to the politician-ectomy that occurred that day.
Fire Chief (ret.) Richard B. Gasaway, PhD, EFO, CFO, MICP
www.RichGasaway.com
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Above the rules
Apparently the guy sitting next to me had some sort of special dispensation from the rules as he continued to text. No big deal, we haven't pulled away from the gate yet, so I let it go.
Then we started our push back... still texting.
Then we were on our taxi down the tarmack toward the runway... still texting.
If there is a downside to all the research I have done on aviation safety it's knowing a little too much about how accident occur, including how latent two-way devices (like cell phones and wi-fi) have impacted the navigation equipment on the flight deck.
I politely asked the guy to turn off his device. He snarled and cussed at me and told me to mind my own business. I guess I could have told him it was my business because if the plane crashes because of his text messaging, I would be very inconvenienced by that.
I simply said the flight attendant had instructed the passengers to turn off and stow all electronic devices. He cussed at me again.
I told him if he didn't turn it off I would call for the flight attendant. He snarled and cussed again. DING - went the bell as I depressed the flight attendant call button. The flight attendant had already been seated and belted so she was not real happy to get up and come back to see what the problem was.
I told her what had transpired (and the guy was STILL texting). She told him to turn it off and stow it. He cussed at her and told her he'd turn it off when he was done. She told him if he didn't turn it off right now, she'd ask the pilot to return to the gate and he would be removed.
He turned it off, jammed it down into the carry-on bag between his legs, searched through the bag and angrily pulled out a copy of "Flying" magazine and prominently set it on his lap so I could see it.
Honestly, did he think I would be impressed that he owned a magazine with a Cessna on the cover? Well, if that's what he was going for, he was surely disappointed when I didn't apologize for asking a "pilot" (assuming he was one and hadn't simply found a copy of the magazine on the floor in the bathroom stall) to turn off his cell phone during the taxi.
He spent the next forty minutes turning the pages of the magazine with such anger that each flip made a loud noise. He wasn't happy with me and I was sending me a message.
Why do some people think they are above the rules?
Fire Chief (ret.) Richard B. Gasaway, PhD, EFO, CFO, MICP
www.RichGasaway.com
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Is the message you are sending what you intended?
One of the greatest frustrations many people face is being misunderstood. When you are having a conversation, it is much easier to realize it is happening because the other person might tell you they don’t understand. But what about when the communications isn’t face to face. For example, the boss drafts a memo or policy and posts it on the bulletin board for everyone to read… and “understand.” But do they?
Allow the attached picture to serve as an example. The first grade teacher’s assignment was simple. Draw a picture that illustrates what your mommy or daddy does for a living. Armed with their Crayons and colored pencils, the kids went to work, proudly drawing a parent hard at work.
When one youngster brought the assignment home, imagine the horror on her mom’s face as she viewed the picture. What must the teach think of Mom? Had little Sally revealed the family’s deep, dark secret of how the family affords to live in a nice neighborhood and drive a nice car?
Read on…
After viewing the picture, Mom wrote a note to the teacher explaining that she is not a pole dancer in an exotic club, as the picture might depict. Rather, she works at Home Depot and she had recently told her daughter about her day at work when there was a snow storm coming and everyone was trying to buy snow shovels from Mom.
What kind of pictures are you drawing in your communications with others?
Fire Chief (ret.) Richard B. Gasaway, PhD, EFO, CFO, MICP
Friday, January 15, 2010
I was having such a good day...
I left the coffee shop with a fresh cup of java around lunch time to check my post office box. I had a couple of checks in the mail! Booya! My good day got even better. As I was leaving the post office something happened that was going to change all that.
In front of me a blue-haired lady driving a early model sedan pulled right out in front of me. I remember thinking to myself… Hmmm… this is not good. She didn’t even see me, she’s going about 4 MPH and I am now sliding in the icy roadway approaching the rear end of her car at about 15 MPH. I did some quick calculations which resulted in the realization I was going to meet her in a very unpleasant way rather soon.
To avoid this, I had what appeared, at the time, to be a reasonable option. I would swerve to the right where snow was piled along the roadside. I would probably end up way up in the snow and have to be towed. But, I would not hit the elderly lady.
I put the plan into action and steered into the snow. It seemed like such a good plan until my car did not drive through the snow, but rather, drove UP the snow bank and before I knew it, my car was in its roof.
There I was, upside down, sliding on a icy roadway, metal screeching, and glass breaking all around me. I’m thinking “This isn’t good.” Up to that moment, I was having such a good day.
And there I was, suspended upside down, taking stock of my inventory. All my body parts are present and accounted for. But, like the song, there was something warm running in my eye. I must have hit my head. I released the seatbelt and it took a little ingenuity to figure out how to get the brake pedal depressed (which was now above me) and get the car into park and turned off. That alone was a comical feat.
I crawled out of the car, expecting the person who cut me off to be standing there, apologetic for her careless act of cutting me off. Nope, she was long gone. I don’t think she even know it happened. There were no witnesses. However, it’s amazing that once you put your car on its roof you start to attract gawkers as if you were giving away free $50 bills for everyone to stop by and ask what happened.
Thankfully, my injuries were very minor. The car, on the other hand, didn’t fare so well. It was considered a total loss by the insurance company. Now, I get to go shopping for a replacement car.
I am thankful the little old lady was not injured. I am thankful I was not injured. I am thankful there was not another car coming from the other direction. That would have been painful. I am thankful I was alone and none of my family had to endure that traumatic event. So, all in all, even with the accident, it was still a good day.
Oh, the something warm running in my eye… was my coffee!
Fire Chief (ret.) Richard B. Gasaway, PhD, EFO, CFO, MICP
www.RichGasaway.com
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Father-Son Bonding
Sometimes, when you’re least expecting, an opportunity for bonding comes into your midst. Such was the case today when I took my eldest son to the hardware store. It seemed like such a non-event, picking up a couple of replacement bolts and washers. But, for some reason, this trip was special for me.
Just before Christmas he decided that when he graduates he’s going to serve our country as a United States Marine. I am very proud of him and the direction he has chosen. Now, every moment spent together is even more precious. Even a trip to the hardware store and a discussion about bolts and washers becomes special time.
All parents know the day will come when our little ones leave the nest and venture out into the grown ups world. We wonder if we’ve taught them everything they need to know to be successful… to be happy… to be safe. I guess we never really know.
I recall the countless number of times I growled at him for playing video war games. Now I question if he played enough of those games to develop skills that will help him survive as a Marine. I guess those questions will be answered in time.
In the meantime, I will take advantage of every opportunity I can to bond over bolts and washers in the hardware store, and pray to God with all my might that he is ever vigilant. Semper Fi, my son, Semper Fi.
Fire Chief (ret.) Richard B. Gasaway, PhD, EFO, CFO, MICP
www.RichGasaway.com
... and proud parent of a soon-to-be United States Marine