An Airman’s story about tense times in the Philippines, from 1989 to 1991: assassinations, a military coup, earth quakes, and a volcano.

We were at Clark Air Base Philippines during some tense times, one of which was a military coup against their President. The base perimeter was 26 miles around with 40’ watch towers divided into five patrol sectors. It had seven gates, each posted by USAF and Philippine AF (PAF) guards. The PAF guards had the final say on who could enter and who couldn’t, which led to many tense times. During the coup, PAF guards wore armbands to indicate what side of the coup they were on. Their armbands changed daily, determined mainly by who was winning the conflict that day.

Each gate had its kind of drama. Shootings and mad locals were showing up with guns all the time. There were many times I had my weapon drawn even before the vehicle stopped. Because I oversaw the Base EST (the Air Force equivalent of SWAT), I would often carry a short version of the M-16, with a round in the chamber and a sidearm. On one sad day, two Airmen on temporary assignment from Korea were assassinated not far outside the main gate. Six Americans lost their lives to assassination by the New People’s Army (NPA, a communist militia) while I was assigned there. The usual Security Forces (SF) rule of not exceeding 10MPH over when running code did not apply, and no one cared if they saw you going 90-MPH in a 15-MPH zone, they wanted you there. Americans were always relieved to see us show up.

During these two years, I had gotten divorced and betrayed by family back home and had an “I don’t care if I die” attitude. I did some crazy things back then. There was an S-turn in one road leading to one of the gates, and I consistently went through it at 90-MPH sometimes when the road was wet. There were open fields around the turn, and my thought was that no one else would be hurt if the vehicle rolled out of control through it. My secret thought was there would be an investigation that would determine I took the turn too fast and rolled across the field to my death. There were many opportunities for my demise, and I remember my only prayer being that it would be quick. One time we were on a combat line sweeping through eight-foot elephant grass looking for the NPA, who had just robbed a weapon storage area and took the Filipino guard’s shotgun leaving him tied up. I had my pistol and my rifle with a round in the chamber and on fire. Major Koch (soon to be Lieutenant Colonel) was in charge and, upon realizing he didn’t have a weapon, asked me for my M-16, so I clicked it back to safe and handed it to him loaded, and I told him there was one in the chamber and I heard him switch it to fire again. Then I realized all I have now is my 9MM pistol. It was about this time that I heard a big thud and saw a wall of flesh in my peripheral vision. Once I could choke my heart back down, I saw it was a horse with one of our horse patrolmen that could see above the grass, looking for movement.

Some of the troops I worked with were interesting characters. I remember Staff Sergeant (SSgt) Rich Bruere, who was half Filipino and who knows what else. We spent time off duty together, mostly chasing women. Every time guard-mount broke (our before shift meeting), we would high five and declare, “Live for Code,” which we did every day. Code one was a typical response, not speeding, code two was with emergency lights only, and code three was lights and sirens. I learned about another wild man, SSgt Voorhees, because he would somehow be at every call no matter what sector he was assigned. I had a little internal competition to be the first on the scene in my patrol sector. Voorhees made this a challenge for me, and I couldn’t figure out how he could be one of the first on the scene no matter how far the distance. Then one day, I saw how. I was racing to be the first to a call when I saw Voorhees in front of me again. We both entered a highly-populated area on a narrow road with curbs on each side, and I slowed down to ensure I kept control of the vehicle. Voorhees, however, didn’t slow down, and the vacuum left behind his car sucked the debris from the gutters into two swirling cones on each side of him. It looked like a jet, not a car. Now I knew what I had to do from now on, maybe. With the situation resolved, I thanked SSgt Voorhees for backing me up and always being there for me. Before he went back on the road, I told him that I would call him Sergeant Sikorsky since he was flying around Clark Field.

My favorite place to go was the base hospital because I saw beautiful Air Force nurses everywhere I looked. This opportunity-rich environment inspired me to enter training to be an Emergency Medical Technician (EMT), and I did. Part of the training was to spend time in every aspect of the hospital. The emergency room was where I was glad when that part was over. Once I completed this training, I pursued Scuba diving training (another place to meet single Air Force ladies) and earned my Rescue Diver certificate. When I left the Philippines, I was a certified EMT and Rescue Diver and felt well spent my time there.

A year before the Air Force transferred me; I was in the field training my team on combat patrol techniques. They were navigating through high elephant grass and were out of sight. I was monitoring their ability to remain quiet and cross the road tactically. Suddenly the ground was making waves beneath our feet, and the rolling, pulsing of the earth made me yell to them to watch out for the land opening up to swallow them. This quake was massive and collapsed local Filipino buildings. The worst hit was the city of Baguio, where a five-story building pancaked itself, trapping its occupants. Air Force troops from Clark Air Base responded to help look for survivors and dig the dead out. I found out much later this event was a volcano opening for the first time in hundreds of years. It was Mount Pinatubo, and by the time I left Clark Air Base, I would go with a severe sinus infection from breathing all the gasses and tiny shards of volcanic dust for several months. None of us talked about a volcano because we didn’t know about it; the command there kept us in the dark. Then, a month after I arrived back in the USA, I saw a news report about a volcano threatening Clark Airfield, which would eventually be evacuated and left to the Filipino people. My first reaction was disbelief since I had been there only 30 days prior and knew nothing about a volcano.

My friend Larry Spare and his wife were among those evacuated, and they gave him his choice of bases to go. Larry chose Homestead Air Force Base (AFB), just outside Miami, Florida. He arrived with his family and settled in just in time to be evacuated from Hurricane Andrew. So Larry then chose MacDill AFB. He was the only man I knew who evacuated from two military bases because of natural disasters. I asked Larry several times, “what do you think will happen to MacDill AFB, Larry?” After that, we would laugh it off.

I have many memories of my two years in the Philippines and will never forget them. Especially the kindness of the local Philippine people. One time, on the way to a scuba dive, we had a flat tire, and suddenly several Philippine men showed up and helped us take the tire for repairs. We offered them money, and they refused to take it. Instead, everyone smiled and was friendly. I remember going to a local wedding dinner, and the mayor talked with me like we were close friends even though we had never met up to that time. My main takeaway from seeing these people in what we would call desperate poverty is they seemed happy. This happiness contrasted with what I saw on the news from the United States. After seeing these stories, I saw Americans as a spoiled rotten bunch of cry babies who had it made while whining over what they didn’t have or how they had felt treated.

Disclaimer: While some events in this story may seem similar to actual events told by right-leaning reporters, this is only a coincidence since a critical-thought-leaning person is telling it. For all the emotional, ping-pong, reactionary responders, please know this is a satire story, and even if it highlighted actual foolishness, you wouldn’t believe it anyway.

_________

Until now, the Woke movement didn’t have one central leader. Various and humorous attempts at woke-ness were sporadic. One profound display was politicians on their knees displaying their wokeness in a public woke act, mainly to avoid being “canceled.” Remember the race car driver who reacted hysterically over finding what he thought was a noose hanging in his garage. Ten FBI agents were dispatched to investigate this while Seattle burned. Upon closer inspection, it was determined by the FBI elite that every garage had a rope with a loop on end. The loop was necessary to be able to pull the door down. When rolled up, the garage doors were out of reach, and the ropes were there to pull them down. These clumsy attempts at wokeness just were not good enough. They needed a strong central leader who could bring them together into a cohesively coordinated cause.

Then he appeared, "The Wokest of the Woke," the honorable Woke Master, a guru of sorts. When the honorable Woke Master guru spoke, suddenly the hysteria went quiet while they waited for his words of woke wisdom to drop from the lips of his high-wokeness. Wearing what looked like a woke guru robe, he spread his arms to proclaim, "Gather to me all oppressed Americans, and I will lead you to Woke enlightenment."

[I am the wisest Woke Master of the land. Hear what I have to say!

HORSES!!! Horses are offensive because they aren't native to America and represent the seductive imperialists' influence on native Americans.

BERMUDAGRASS!!! Bermudagrass isn't' native to this land and represents imperialist expansion and exploitation of people. Every time Bermuda grass is found, it should be purged from the land. Horses must be rounded up and shipped back to Arabia.

SUGAR!!! Sugar is unacceptably grievous because it is made from sugar cane initially brought to America to be cultivated by slave labor. Throw your sugar into the streets and never consume it again.

Then complete the process by banning children’s books, toys, and cartoons and canceling them for promoting “systemic racism.” This is the cancel culture of 2021, and the American culture must be canceled. The honorable Woke Master has spoken.]

On one particular day at a Woke rally, The Woke Master pointed and gestured for the crowd to look toward a black man stepping out of his 2021 Bugatti La Voiture Noire sedan. As the group looked, the Woke Master proclaimed, “behold an oppressed man.” “This poor man deserves slave reparations for 400 years of oppression and toil.”

Upon hearing this, the man tried to wave off the attention, but it was too late. The crowd of eager wokeys rushed to him, got on their knees, and started kissing his gold ring. They excitedly took turns walking on their knees to him to kiss his hand and ring. The man tried to speak, but the crowd excitedly talked over him, and no one could hear what he had to say. Someone in the back started passing a hat around, and the woke people eagerly dropped donations for an advance to him on slave reparations. They shoved the hat overflowing with green cash into his hand while the man became visibly shaken. He got into his Bugatti and drove off while the crowd looked on with gushing eyes.

A Communist News Network (CNN) reporter Jim Acost-ya got one of his contacts to run the man’s license plate and tracked him down at his home. This was when he could talk and explained that he wasn’t from America and had only recently immigrated from an undisclosed African country. He said he came here as a poor immigrant but was able to amass his wealth through American opportunities just lying around. Upon bringing the story back to CNN, reporter Jim Acost-ya was informed that the story would not be published since it was not in line with the current Woke dialog of the Woke community. CNN let the public believe that the man was an American by birth to protect the popular anti-American dialogue. This freed Jim up to continue accosting anti-liberal politicians with more lies and fake news.

Meanwhile, in another Woke rally, two Americans are filmed by CNN sneaking away from the crowd. It was later revealed they were in fear of being “canceled” and wanted to become anonymous. These two escaped before being canceled and sought witness protection against those after them for not being WOKE enough. A CNN defector told them about the Chinese government’s experiments with skin transplants. They quickly volunteered and were flown to Wuhan because they fit the profile for a new medical breakthrough they were seeking to accomplish.

Motivated by several people’s requests to go into witness protection and a desire to lead the world in medicine, Chinese doctors decided to perform the first-ever human skin transplant. They solicited volunteers and were provided the two escaped non-woke people from the United States. It just so happened that one of them was a black man and the other a white man. Both individuals volunteered in a desperate attempt to prevent their identities from being discovered by the robust Woke community, who wanted them canceled. The black man had always been curious to know what it was like being white, and conversely, the white man wanted to know what it was like to be black. He also wanted to stop being judged because of his whiteness in a man’s evil body. These men were chosen because of their similar blood and body types. The operation was successful and publicized around the world while at the same time keeping the patient’s true identities a secret.

They were both put into the same recovery room and later in the same ward until they could be released. After only three days together, the two patients had to be placed in separate rooms to prevent hostilities toward each other. Interestingly the former black guy who grew up using the “N” word among his friends used it again in conversation with the other patient who was now black. The conversation quickly escalated when the new black guy accused the new white guy of being a bigoted racist for using the “N” word and how that word represented 400 years of oppression of his people. He then exclaimed loudly enough to be heard down the hall, “this is why I hate white people!” "White people suffer from systemic racism." The former black guy responded, "What do you mean? I’ve only been white for three days now." To which, the new black guy exclaimed, “Yes! And you have been enjoying your white privilege to the hilt while I'm over here having to ring the nurse two and three times. I can’t help but notice they come running on your first ring. "The other answered, "That's because they still think of you as black, and heaven forbid if a black person says something and people don't jump." "THAT'S A RACIST COMMENT!" “YOU ARE THE RACIST!" “NO, YOU’RE THE RACIST, AND YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IT!" “RACIST!" "RACISTS! "

Upon being released from the hospital, both returned to their hometowns only to discover this was a mistake. The former black man mistakenly felt free to check up on his mother still living in the Watts area of Los Angeles, California. He had trouble coming to grips with being shunned in conversations accompanied by dirty, judgmental looks and scowling stares from across the street. He had to remind himself that he was no longer a member of the black community and was being judged as a racist due to his white skin and gender. These were seemingly the worst times of adjustment for him, and he knew he should leave before he was assaulted or accused, especially if he accidentally used the “N” word again. Even his mother treated him with suspicion, and more than once called the police on him to be escorted from the area and warned him not to return.

Conversely, the new black man (formerly known as white) enjoyed his new role in his new skin. He established an assumed name and was suddenly more popular with his old associates than in his former life. He was amazed at how easy it was to get his way after only insinuating possible racial discrimination. New doors opened to him that were previously closed to his “white” self. He even applied for a grant from the United Negro College Fund to help him go back to college. However, he became discouraged when other black people sometimes accused him of trying to “be white.” Strangely enough, he took the bold step to champion the need to be Woke to systemic racism against “white people.” He proposed new programs to help the poor white people not with a handout but with a hand-up. Programs like The United Caucasian College Fund (charity), “Because a mind is a terrible thing to waste.” Affirmative action to ensure every workplace has at least one token white person. The National Association for the Advancement of White People (NAAWP) and Government funding for Historically White Colleges. He established social programs like the White Entertainment Network (WET), White people meet – a dating site for white people, and of course, White Lives Matter (WLM).

________________

Hopefully, you found this story amusing and on a serious note:

What would Martin Luther King say about our twenty-first century? I sure miss him. Listen to his words again:

"a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today!"

Martin Luther King, Jr – August 28, 1963

Author

Sherwood Steele

After years of running from parents to in-laws and other relatives' houses, my children have decided it's time to spend Christmas morning with only their children to reduce the stress of entertaining relatives and of running from home to home on Christmas day. 

 They had two grandparents over for Christmas dinner the week before to resolve this dilemma. With little Elijah's birthday being only a week earlier, he would get his birthday presents from his Papa and Nana on the same night. Elijah had just turned five and was thrilled to get an electric-powered jeep just his size. However, later that night, as they all opened presents from Papa and Nana, Elijah witnessed his eleven-year-old brother getting cash and realized he didn't. An amazing statement from him followed this observation as he threw one of the empty toy boxes to the ground; he proclaimed, "I don't like toys!" 

 His mom was reasoning with him that toys were better for him anyway. Then his dad quietly stepped in and escorted little Elijah out of the area. Five minutes later, Elijah is seen humbly approaching his Papa and Nana and thanking them for his gifts. Everyone was joyful, playful, and happy for the rest of the evening.

Elijah is a fortunate little boy and is sure to grow into an extraordinary man. Because he is surrounded by those who love him, but most of all, he has excellent parents who teach him the value of being grateful and displaying unselfish behavior. It brought joy to his Papa's heart seeing little Elijah learn manly behavior at only five years.  

Merry Christmas

Sherwood Steele

Author of Lured Down the Garden Path, (available on Amazon)

The religious leaders accused Jesus Christ in Jerusalem of being a glutton and a drunk. They did this because they felt threatened by Him and wanted to tarnish His reputation. Christ did not deny that he was eating and drinking and being seen with sinners; that’s why He was here, to seek and to save us. Referring to this constant criticism, Christ says; “The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, ‘Behold a gluttonous man and a drunkard, a friend of tax-gatherers and sinners!’ Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.” (Matthew 11:19) Christ was not drunk with wine just because He was seen drinking it with people. I’ve been to many gatherings, and someone serves alcoholic beverages. Most have the presence of mind not to imbibe excessively to avoid doing or saying anything embarrassing. People are seen nursing the same drink for a long time, and they put it down, usually unfinished when dinner is served. They are just being polite and thereby ladies and gentlemen. However, a narcissistic opponent might take this opportunity to use this as their smear campaign against someone they despise.

False Teachers – Blind leaders of the Blind

Many religious leaders teach total abstinence from alcohol. They ignore or explain away Christ’s first recorded miracle of turning water into wine. (John 2:1-12) They do the same for other references like at the last supper (Matthew 26:27) and in Psalms 104, where the Psalmist list gifts from God, one of which is “wine which makes man’s heart glad.” (Psalm 104:15) These legalistic preachers will tell you absurd things like “it’s only none fermented grape juice,” which doesn’t pass the intellectual test in three areas. One, where did they get the refrigeration to stop the fermentation process? Two, who sets around drinking grape juice for long periods of time? Three, why did the wedding in Cana run out, leaving the guests drunk? Note: “and when the guests are drunk, then he serves the poorer wine; but you have kept the good wine until now.” (John 2:10) So what’s going on?

Those focusing on what you do or don’t do, are testing your loyalty to them and seeking compliance by you to their teaching. This type of legalistic teaching is similar to how many cults operate. They are legalistic teachers who add things to do or not do to be part of their group. They seek conformity to their teaching. They like to start with alcohol because we have a legacy in the United States before and during the prohibition movement in the early 20th century. This teaching is rooted in the American psyche and kept going mostly among religious leaders who can’t let this go. I’m sure that if these religious leaders were transported back in time, they would be right there with Christ’s accusers. But, this isn’t the only thing cults teach to avoid. One also needs to abstain from odd things like playing cards and caffeinated drinks. Some preach staying away from these things while promoting that you should pick up a poisonous snake to prove your faith.

Christ himself warns about false teachers who make rules for their followers that they don’t abide by themselves. “But woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, because you shut off the kingdom of heaven from men; for you do not enter in yourselves, nor do you allow those who are entering to go in.” (14) “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites, because you devour widow houses, even while for a pretense you make long prayers; therefore you shall receive greater condemnation.” (Matthew 23:13-14) Many will assert that Christ is only referring to the religious leaders in Jerusalem, the “scribes and Pharisees.” But pay attention to what he consistently calls them. “Hypocrites.” What else does he say, “You will know them by their fruits. Grapes are not gathered from thorn bushes, nor figs from thistles, are they.” (Matthew 7:16). With this teaching in mind, look again at his accusations, “because you devour widow houses, even while for a pretense you make long prayers.” We have seen this all through the 20th century up to today. Every time you tune into a televangelist, they always ask you to make sacrificial donations to them. One profound example I witnessed was a long-time televangelist asking for money, and I watched as my poor old grandmother would dutifully send him money almost every time he asked. Then one day was followed by his public humiliation arrested for solicitation of prostitution. I did not have the heart to tell my grandmother what he was using her money to buy. There are hundreds of these people on television and in all media forms today. We see them on lighted billboards along the freeway with their smiling, manicured faces. Many live in luxurious mansions, drive expensive cars, and fly costly aircraft. Many have a cult-like following and tell you that you can live the same lifestyle as them if you only have faith to give them more money.

Every time I visited my grandmother, she would have on their shows. I would see a man standing in front of a room full of people pronouncing someone in the crowd who was suffering physically and needed healing. Then people would get in line while he put his hand on their forehead and push their head back while proclaiming, “Be healed!” “Praise God!” “Hallelujah!” The person would joyfully go back to their seat, allegedly healed. This show reminded me very much of the World Wrestling Federation (WWF), who for many years proclaimed their acts were actual “wrestling fights.” In the 21st century, these former wrestlers freely admit their fights were choreographed acts for entertainment purposes. There are people to this day who say this was real. The televangelists were doing the same acting only differently while asking you to send your money.

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you are like whitewashed tombs which on the outside appear beautiful, but inside they are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness.” “Even so, you too outwardly appear righteous to men, but inwardly you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness.” “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees hypocrites! For you build the tombs of the prophets and adorn the monuments of the righteous, and say, ‘If we had been living in the days of our fathers, we would not have been partners with them in shedding the blood of the prophets.’” Consequently, you bear witness against yourselves, that you are sons of those who murdered the prophets.” “Fill up then the measure of the guilt of your fathers,” “You serpents, you brood of vipers, how shall you escape the sentence of hell?” (Matthew 23:25-33)

Now what do you think Christ thought of religious leaders?

Unfortunately, false teachers are everywhere in the 21st century.

Sherwood Steele

Since the mass migration of Californians to Texas, I have seen a few strange characters walking around. Draconian gun laws for so long have repressed them; they kind-a lose it when they get to a free state. I call these people the walking clown shows. For example, I was behind one fool at the register yesterday who dressed to the nines like someone who just walked out of Buffalo Bill’s wild west show. He was proud to display all his shiny new weapons openly. Auto pistol on his hip, with a shiny new buck knife strapped on his back, pressed jeans tucked into his boots with the butt of another gun showing in his boot, and whatever else stuffed into his other boot. He had a nicely pressed and folded bandana hanging from his back pocket to his knees. Since it’s a mistake even to try communicating with fools, I restrained, but that didn’t stop me from thinking about what I would like to discuss with him.

It might have gone like this: “Excuse me, sir, but is there a wild west show in town?” Then: “Apparently, you have never served in combat or even had combat training since the first objective is not to be a target, something you are right now.” Then, “Please, if the shooting starts, I don’t want you anywhere around; you’re a bullet magnet.” If the fool were open to further discussion, I would point out the foolish placement of his armaments.

“One: the buck knife placement is stupidly uncomfortable to sit on and would be almost impossible to reach (if you should be a terrible shooter and run out of bullets).” “Two: the boot gun on display is just asking for someone to grab.” “Three, the sidearm is in the worst tactical place, and someone will fight you for it.” “It should be on your chest where you have ready access and within your complete sphere of control.” Finally, all weapons should be concealed to make you less of a target fool!!!” “If things are so dangerous right now that you believe you need to carry more than one sidearm, then you should also have a long gun which is the most effective personal combat weapon.”

This dialog would be followed by Sting’s (Police) song, “Don’t stand so close to me.”

By Sherwood Steele

How a Monster Chose to Deal With Entitled Losers And their Toxic - Racist Workplace

 Today, people believe they are so entitled. They want everything at no cost to them. They want to be rewarded for actions they did not take and are jealous of those who get the grand prize and fame. This story is about entitlement and those too ignorant to understand why they are not entitled to anything. This story is about my observations and how I disassociated with them.

 My Story

 After leaving the Air Force, I worked for a contract security company. I had never worked in civilian contract security. I have security experience serving in the United States Air Force and have worked in security and law enforcement for over 16 years. I served in the Information Communication Systems field in my last four years. I had a great career and learned many valuable skills while serving my country. When I retired and had to find a job, I was shocked at how bad the civilian workplace had become over the last three decades. I was shocked by the poor quality of the so-called security officers in this company. They were so bad I never referred to them as professional security officers. They did not deserve the title. The employees I had to deal with were just warm bodies who would sit on their asses for 8 hours and did very little else.

 When I started working with the security company, I asked my superiors who had hired them and found he had. It was so bad that I looked at the roster of nearly 50 officers and realized that if I could clean house and start over with new officers, I would only keep 5 out of 50. Unfortunately, the so-called "officers," whom I will call "Losers," worked at the sites I managed and wanted everything because they felt entitled. They wanted pay raises and were too closed-minded and ignorant to understand how pay raises were based on contract negotiations. Negotiations that the company was too afraid to ask the client for, in fear they would lose the contract. Over many years, no one received raises, and no raises were projected for the future. Most people would say the officers deserved a pay raise. Those people would be wrong. In my former world, pay raises were based on performance and standards—two characteristics the Losers did not have.

 I had conversations with the Losers several times when they brought up the conversations of raises and recognition for their "superior performance." After hearing all the Losers complain, I decided to ask them some questions. I wondered why you think you deserve a pay raise or recognition. They said that because "they had been loyal to the company, were hard workers and dependable." I almost fell out of my chair. They did not have any of those traits. They did have the experience. They had experience sitting on their asses 8 hours a day (if they did not call out), refusing to do what they were told, doing nothing at work, watching their cell phones the whole shift, talking about others behind their backs, talking about me (which I could care less), bitching about everything, gossiping, and finding ways to get their bosses in trouble when they did not like them. The race card was their go-to card when they wanted to make up stories for HR about anyone they did not like. Most people would typically blame the sense of entitlement to young kids' attitudes at the sites. However, not all youngsters complained. About two-thirds of the employees were well over 50 years old, and they did most of the complaining. They were the leaders that helped poison the young radicals.

 The work environment was one of a mob mentality. The threat of racism was a tactic used to have others fired. The real racism came from those who displayed racism in their speech and actions. It has always been interesting to see that those who claim racism are many times the true racist. I have to admit the security company I worked for was the most racist and toxic environment I had ever worked in. Company leadership was a joke. All they did was look the other way and hope the issues would go away, but they never did. The toxic environment only got worse.

 Confronting the Situation

 I knew working with the Losers was a waste of my time and energy. Those who are weak will never change. These weak people do not want to change. That requires too much work. I refused to be a part of an organization that was toxic to the core. A toxic environment is not only bad for some great employees who genuinely do care about doing a good job; it is an environment that can physically and mentally damage someone. It was doing that to me. The environment was one I refused to conform to or be a part of. It was a waste of my time to confront Losers. I did the next best thing. I got away from them. When I retired from the USAF, several employers asked if I could work with civilians. Could I be a team player? The security firm where I worked had no concept of teamwork, and I did not want to be part of this and their loser mentality. Their team sucked.

 Some people that read this article may think I am a monster. Those people would be correct. I am a monster that is in control. I am not weak and not a loser. I don't sugarcoat any situation; I tell it like it is. People who know me know my meaning. I am proud to be a monster who is in control and refuses to be around those who are weak.

 Signed, Monster