Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Nike Running - News Blog - Night Speed Ahead: Why We Run Faster in the Dark

I love this. It makes perfect sense. I always feel like I'm cruising at night, but when I get done it doesn't seem like I ran any harder than I normally do. I guess if I keep running at night I'll be able to run faster overall. New experiment idea.

Nike Running - News Blog - Night Speed Ahead: Why We Run Faster in the Dark:

'via Blog this'

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Rock likes his treats



Having some fun with my puppy this morning. He's a real bastard sometimes when it comes to doing his tricks.

The Forgotten Cop

What would the average citizen say if it were proposed that police officer be assigned to a neighborhood which was inhabited by no one but criminals and those officers would be unarmed, patrol on foot and be heavily outnumbered? I wager that the overwhelming public response would be that the officers would have to be crazy to accept such an assignment. However, as you read this, such a scenario is being played out in all areas of the country.

I am a New York State correction officer, not a guard, who is a person that catches school crossings. I work in a maximum security correctional facility. I am empowered by the State of New York to enforce its penal laws and the rules and regulations of the Department of Correctional Services. In short, I am a policeman. my beat is totally inhabited by convicted felons, who, by definition, are people who tend to break laws, rules and regulations. I am outnumbered by as much as 20, 30 and even 40 to 1 at various times during my workday, and contrary to popular belief, I work without a sidearm. in short, my neck is on the line every minute of every day.

A correctional facility is a very misunderstood environment. The average person has little knowledge of its workings. Society sends its criminals to correctional facilities and as time passes, each criminal's crime fades from our memory until the collective prison population becomes a vision of hordes of bad people being warehoused away from decent society in a place where they can cause no further harm. There is also the notion that prison inmates cease to be a problem when they are incarcerated.

Correctional facilities are full of violence perpetrated by the prison population against each other and the facility staff. Felonies are committed daily but they are called "unusual incidents" are rarely results in public prosecution. Discipline is handled internally and, as a rule, the public is never informed of these crimes. In the course of maintaining order in these facilities, many officers have endured the humiliation of being spit upon and having urine and feces thrown at them. Uncounted correction officers have been punched and kicked, bitten, stabbed and slashed with homemade weapons, taken hostage and even murdered in the line of duty, all the while being legally mandated to maintain their professional composure and refraining from any retaliation which could be the basis for dismissal from service.

In addition to these obvious dangers, corrections officers face hidden dangers in the form of AIDS, tuberculosis, hepatitis B and hepatitis C. Courts are now imposing longer sentences and the prison population is increasing far beyond the system's designed capacity. As the Public demands more police on the street, governments everywhere are cuffing police in prisons where violence reigns supreme, jeopardizing all those still working behind prison walls.

Although you will never see me on "RESCUE 911" or "TOP COPS" I am a law enforcement professional. I am THE FORGOTTEN COP, hidden from public view, doing dangerous thankless duty on the world's most dangerous beat, hoping someday to received the respect of and approval from the public whom I silently serve.

Written by: Donald E. Premo, Jr.
New York State Correction Officer
Coxsackie Correctional Facility

Dodge Dip Duck Dive and Dodge

Let me first start out by saying being a part of the Big Brothers Big Sisters organization is awesome. I love the time I spend with my little brother. We've been matched for three years now. We do all sorts of fun stuff at the school. In the winter, I take him outside and we go sledding. If it's too cold we stay inside and play basketball or whatever sport he's engrossed in at that time. Sometimes I play the mean role and make him do some homework with me before we do the fun stuff. Most of the time, though, it's just nice to hang out with him and goof around.

Yesterday, while hanging out with him after school we played dodgeball with some of his friends. I hadn't played in quite awhile, but my dodge, dip, duck, dive and dodge skills were still top notch.

I'm pretty proud to say that in three games I was only out three times. However, I'm not too proud to say I got burned by a third grade little girl.

There I was in the back minding my own business picking up a ball when I was blasted in the leg by another ball. I turned to see who had hit me. Standing there all four feet tall was this girl.

She blurted out, "Oh yeah! You got burned by a little girl! Yeah, I got you OUT!"

As I walked off to the side she continued to taunt me with, "You're not very good at this game. You got burned by a little girl like me."

It was pretty funny, and the teacher that was supervising the other kids was getting a good laugh at her tirade. Once somebody caught a ball I was allowed to go back into the game. From then on, I made it a point to walk right up to the middle line with a ball and stare directly at her. I will not hesitate to use my skills as a formidable dodgeball player to intimidate a 9-year-old girl. She deserved it. I didn't throw a ball at her the rest of the game. It was just to give the impression I would, but then at the last second I would throw it at the stronger boys on the other team.

Some of those kids can really whip those dodgeballs. I can see how Vince Vaughn would lose to a Girl Scout troop.

Needless to say, my little brother's team won every game.

The odd part about visiting my little brother is that all his friends want to hang out with us.

I don't know if that's good or bad. What I can tell you is that it means there are plenty of kids out there who want to participate in the program. If you have an hour a week, I would suggest you look into the program. It feels really good to volunteer.

Give back.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Jason Day Plays a Mean Guitar


CAMP FALLUJAH, Iraq (May 19, 2005) – The passion of picking a six string, manipulating musical notes, running fingers up and down a fret board, seducing the sense of hearing, melding notes into harmonies, melodies and building songs is something Lance Cpl. Jason R. Day, a landing support specialist, has been fixated with from age five.

Though he didn’t bring a guitar with him to Iraq, he found one in an unlikely place.

“It’s kind of an interesting story on how I stumbled on to the guitar that I have now,” said Day. “I ordered one online and the order didn’t go through. I was standing in line at the post office to send the business a money order and I noticed a guy with a bag that said Martin on the side of it. I asked him if it was a guitar and he told me that he was sending it home. I ended up buying it off him for 100 bucks, and it’s not a bad guitar.”

Though it is not a full-sized guitar, Day said he still enjoys playing it.

“I would rather rock an electric guitar,” he said grinning. “I can rock the acoustic, but I get a better sound on the electric. I love the electric guitar."

Day’s favorite guitar was given to him on his twenty-fifth birthday.

“I opened up the case and pulled the cover back,” said Day, reminiscing of the glorious event. “There it was; a sunburst Gibson Les Paul. My dad said he was going to get me the guitar or a car and decided that I would probably like the guitar more. I love that thing.”

The day his passion for playing started Day was exploring his 10-acre farm when he happened upon his dad’s electric guitar hidden in one of the sheds.

“I picked it up and there was this beam of sunlight shining on me,” said the Fort Wayne, Ind., native. “It was like a calling. It defined my whole purpose in life.

“I told my dad about finding it, and I got in a little bit of trouble because I wasn’t supposed to be climbing around in the sheds,” continued Day. “When my dad would play music really loud, I would hold on to the guitar and jump around. It was then I knew I wanted to be a rock star. After that, he taught me ‘House of the Rising Sun,’ and I just kept learning from there.”

His love for “classic rock” started on Saturday mornings when his dad would play his record collection at 8 a.m.

“It was every Saturday morning,” said Day with a smile. “My dad had this old receiver and he would crank it up. We lived on a farm and there wasn’t anybody around so we could play the stereo as loud as we wanted. It was so cool to be sitting out on the porch on a nice warm day and hear the music come from inside the house.”

Guitarists like Jimmy Page, Jimi Hendrix, Tony Iommi and Eric Clapton were his influences when he was young. As he grew older the musical talent of bands like Metallica continued to influence him. He played every chance he got, sometimes not doing his homework to play guitar instead.

“I got in trouble one time because my grades were bad for the grading period,” said the brown-eyed 28-year-old, with a mischievous grin. “I was grounded to my room and my parents even took my radio away from me. While I was grounded I learned how to play ‘Stairway to Heaven’ by memory and just sounding it out on the guitar. That’s normally how I learn songs; by ear. I guess I was blessed with the ability to do that. I still have to work hard at it, though.”

According to Day, he had an idea of the hard work brought with joining the Marine Corps.

“I’m not afraid to work hard, especially if I’m learning about music,” said Day.

When he is not providing convoy security as a military policeman augment, he is practicing for his life-long dream of becoming a “rock star.” Something rooted so deeply in his heart, he bears the moniker tattooed on his back.

“He really wants to be a rock star,” said Lance Cpl. Cody Tallent, an Atlanta native and friend who sometimes plays harmonica with Day. “I can see it everyday. He’s already a rock star because he believes in his heart that someday he’ll be one. He’s got to know he’s a rock star to his friends, and right now that rock star just happens to be in Iraq.

“Saying you’re a rock star is a state of being,” continued Tallent, a military policeman with Combat Logistics Battalion 8, 2d Force Service Support Group (Forward). “Jason’s already achieved that state of being. I don’t want Jason to think of himself as the cliché rock star.”

For Day, being a rock star is more than just the cliché, with plans to donate money to charities to help stop poaching.

“It started when I went to my first concert, The Steve Miller Band,” said Day. “Steve Miller used to donate a lot of money to the ‘Arbor Day Foundation.’ I would also like to help people.”

Until the time when Day is able to make large donations to charities, he is focusing on writing music and planning to attend the Musician’s Institute located in California.

“Out here, I’m trying to write one song a month,” he said. “I’m hoping that I will have a complete album by the time I go home, and if I can get into the Musician’s Institute that would be awesome. You have to get as much education as possible. I’ve even checked with them, and they accept the G.I. Bill.”

Right now, Day said his best asset in furthering his guitar playing is his friends and family.

“I get a lot of encouragement to play from everybody,” said the oldest of three siblings. “Somebody had me go to a birthday party for another Marine and play my guitar. I played a couple of songs and the dude told me I could play all night.”

Thursday, July 7, 2011

No

Sometimes, I need to just say, "No".

Done.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Skate Park

These are some photos I took at the skate park of some of the guys I volunteer with.