I do not like war, killing, harming, burning, looting, threatening, bullhorns, tent cities, genocide, murder, missiles or bombing.
I do not let anybody threaten anybody in my presence, and will always speak up when somebody is being unjustly attacked.
I do not fully understand the Middle East, but I do know that Israel has a right to exist as a sovereign nation and has been recognized by world governments since 1948.
And I also know that what happenned on October 7th, 2023 will continue to happen unless Israel ends it.
This little quote originated in one of my articles. A Fire Captain from Florida, I believe sent me a message asking permission to have it inscribed on some coffee mugs he was having made as Christmas gifts for his crew. He sent me a picture, which of course I can’t find, I thought they looked great, and figured I would have some t shirts made and see if people like them.
They are available at my Etsy Shop, along with some prints and other t-shirt designs.
Thanks for checking it out, and if you know anything about this image please let me know so I can give credit, I Googled “Firefighters Cleaning” and this one caught my eye.
Due to the current political climate and delicate atmosphere created by leadership in the fire service I have put together a plan to address the potential hurt feelings of our team members.
Beginning immediately and continuing until sanity returns to the administration, a Safe Space shall be designated in all Fire Houses nationwide. The space shall be chosen by a show of hands at roll call, with the choices being as follows;
A. Day Room Table
B. Apparatus Floor
C. Basement
D. Parking Lot.
Specific times will be chosen as designated Safe Times in Safe Spaces. During the safe time in a safe space all on duty members will be given freedom of opinion, choice of language, dark humor is encouraged and insults mandatory. Nothing shall be considered “off limits” and no disciplinary action will be taken against any member who participates in the Safe Space Program.
If you are unable to participate in the Safe Spaces Program, please find the crying room and stay there.
Humanity has progressed exponentially over the last 150 years. Poverty and hunger, illiteracy and fear are rapidly declining, yet emotional despair is on the rise.
Regional battles and wars rage with all spotlights on them, creating the illusion of a world at war. Our dependence on fossil fuel fuels the guilt machine as we pepper our consciousness with dire predictions of a burning earth predicated on the use of the energy that has created the progress.
I think of it along the lines of a basic education. We start with limited language skills, figure out how to have our needs met either by crying or charming, then communicating with words, then ideas and understanding, always learning how better to navigate a difficult existence. We are not static beings mired in the now – we are ever progressing, always improving, gaining wisdom, aging, mellowing, then moving into the next realm.
Climate change happens with or without our consent. The tools we create along our journey may or may not contribute to a warming planet, but without the tools that we harness from the earth nothing changes. Nothing but weeds grow. Nothing but a meager existence based on the need to stay alive matters. We live, we die and eventually all things move on.
By using the resources available we continue to progress. Just as the human mind begins in a primitive state so too does our journey into a conscious existence. The fuel we burn today will be ancient history; a means to an end. What that end is remains to be seen.
I have faith in the human spirt, and believe that our purpose is far more complex than any of us are aware of. Sometimes we need to live and let live, and let human ingenuity progress as it will, with as few government restrictions and mandates as possible. Fossil fuel is a bridge to a better future. Destroying the infrastructure needed to deliver it is doing nothing to save the planet, but a lot to delay progress.
I put together some things from my days as a firefighter and offer them at an Etsy Shop I created. The prints are based on words I wrote over the years, and the t-shirts are just something I put together because I thought people would like them.
Thanks for taking a look, I hope you find value in these creations.
I’m old. A grandfather even. I’m supposed to be able to fix things. Anything.
I cannot. And I hate it.
Not too long ago a person with average intelligence could fix their car, remember thirty phone numbers, read a map, make a dinner and tune their guitars. It gave us power over our the natural world, and a sense of pride. As complex as things appeared, with a little thought and some work we could claim dominance over the oppression that progress created. It was liberating to know that we truly were capable of overcoming most of the difficulties we were faced with.
Now, we are at the mercy of technology. If we lose our phone, we lose contact with our connections. If our car won’t start we wait for AAA. If our GPS is down, we wait, or get lost on the roadways.
It may seem small, but losing control of the things that we depend on is catastrophic. Being helpless is no way to live. We can’t hunt, can’t fish, can’t shoot and can’t grow a garden without Google and genetically modified seeds.
Dating without an app is too hard, talking with strangers is just weird and parallel parking is simply impossible. We communicate through keyboards and create with computer assistance. Writing is a breeze with spellchecker and grammar assistance and the ability to delete or add words that are recommended by unseen or understood forces.
And this is just the beginning. Our technology that we do not understand is now capable of creating technology that will never be understood by the average, and even above average mind. That it could all end with the pulling of a plug plunging mankind into darkness and true anarchy eludes us, and we remain glued to our phones, pecking away like a flock of hens waiting for the rooster to take control.
I read a lot about the fire service, probably write more than I read, but what I write are my experiences, from a different time. What I read is current, and I sense a lot of disappointment concerning the evolving firehouse culture.
I romanticize my fire/EMS experience in my writings because what I remember most are the good times, the wild times, the firefights, the lives saved and the differences made. I have no desire to write about the petty resentments, the cruelty, the incessant ball busting and the misery, of which there was plenty.
I have no idea what goes on in a current fire station. I don’t know if it can even be called a “Firehouse.” But I do know that kids get the job, and the job creates a firefighter. None of us were all that great on Day 1, Week 1, or even Year 1, but we were with people who were kind of great, in a firefighter way, and we learned how to go with the flow, and make our home away from home the best version of home we could.
Things evolve. Cultures change. Isolation occurs in the well intentioned, spurred on by our little devices and the communities we create with them. But one thing is timeless; emergencies happen, even to the most prepared, and people are needed to respond to those emergencies.
The Firehouse is the place where the ones ready, willing and able are, were, and will be in the future. It is an honor and a privilege to be part of that. Even when it doesn’t seem that great, it is. It was. And it will continue to be.
Image from Providence Fire Department’s Engine 6 and Rescue 2’s Facebook page
It has been said that our only purpose in life is to create life, and pass on our DNA. Those of us who fail to accomplish this task will cease to exist as soon as we stop breathing, while those who reproduced will enjoy eternal life, in one form or another, depending on whether or not their offspring keeps the life rolling.
I actually believed it for far too long, and secetly worried that I failed as a human being because life had other plans for me.
I had been told that I would never experience true love until I held the miracle of creation that I helped produce in my arms. And I believed it, and thought the love I felt for my step-family was somehow lacking.
Fortunately, I have lived long enough to learn the truth. The real miracle of everlasting life is in the connections we make, and maintain, the words we speak and the lives we lead. And love is life, and it is eternal. And I will love this little family of mine forever.
My friend and fellow writer Loren Eaton hosts the Shared Storytelling: Advent Ghosts every year at Christmastime. The rules are simple: tell a spooky Christmas Themed Story in exactly 100 words, no more, no less!
Here is my contribution for 2023. Be sure to check back on and after December 21st to see what his assembled crew of storytellers have created!
Like a ghost, the image before him was a mystery. An image appeared, but his brain refused to acknowledge it.
There was a mass here, a spot there, black where there should have been white and an outline that resembled part of the human anatomy. For the life of him he could not make sense of it all.
“What does it mean?” he asked the expert, who stood confidently in front of the image.
“I’m very sorry, Bob, but it’s malignant.”
“But it’s nearly Christmas.”
The image became clear. The Spirit of Christmas Yet To Come was on the screen.
by Michael Morse 