<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9071056</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:53:47.705-07:00</updated><category term='Obama'/><category term='Jesse Jackson'/><category term='Biden'/><title type='text'>The Galleon</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegalleon.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9071056/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegalleon.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sailships</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11530948051162622478</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_z11vpRl1wHY/SGpzw8nMdII/AAAAAAAAAAQ/rzyDo92hKaw/s1600-R/bonoandscott.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9071056.post-1588172576520211223</id><published>2008-11-05T10:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T10:26:19.165-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Biden'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Obama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jesse Jackson'/><title type='text'>It's morning in America.  Again.</title><content type='html'>It's official. The look on Jesse Jackson's face is actually what did me in. I cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt good to. To experience the moment in it's entirety. To be awash with emotion over an arena that I've been largely jaded over for so long.To be keenly aware that for soo many American's that share a cruel history, HEALING might have very well began TONIGHT. Jesse Jackson's face, the emotion, the tears, the hope, the caution, all of it... said it all. I cannot feel what he felt. I never knew that seeing Jesse Jackson's face would have a profound impact on MY life... but there it was. It was like a strong wind that blew me right over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart swelled tonight, FOR AMERICA. For us. For all of us. This... ...community. My faith has been renewed. My hope is renewed. I'm looking toward the future with wide wild eyes, instead of looking at the past and shaking my head. There are possibilities ahead of us. ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And tonight, I breathed in deep the winds of change, and more importantly, HISTORY ITSELF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cried for my country. I cried for possibility. I cried for healing. I cried for moving into the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I write this, I think of my whole day. I think of waking up early, at 6:00, which is very uncommon for me. My girlfriend was up before me and told me she was going to go vote and she'd be back to pick up the kids shortly. At 6:30 am, she called me to inform me that they were parking cars down the road from the voting station, and a long line wrapped around the parking lot. At 6:30 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went ahead and gathered the 3 kids. Dylan told me he was voting for Barack Obama. I actually got into a discussion about politics, and war... with Logan, in all of his 8 years. I helped Morgan get ready, the 9 year old Downs Syndrome "baby" of the trio. Morgan LOVES riding in my car for some reason. It may be because she always gets the front seat. It may just be because it's something different. At any rate, I had one of the little American flags that they hand out on July 4th, so I handed it to her. She loves waving anything she can get her hands on, towels, her favorite baby doll, and this little flag waved perfectly in her hands. She waved her little flag the whole way to the voting station!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plugged my iPod in, and cued up Bruce Springsteen's "The Rising". The sun was out, it was a great morning. When we got to the school where the voting was taking place, the line was still long, mommy was still waiting in the line. I got out of the car with the two boys fairly close to the voters in line. I helped Morgan out, and she proudly continued to wave her American wave... which immediately drew several disarmed "awwwwws" from the voters in line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was morning in America. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite the line... I didn't get the impression that anyone was in necessarily in a hurry. There were no hostilities. Everyone talked to everyone else. I could not tell you who there was a Democrat, or who was a Republican. (I was probably pretty easy to figure out however, as I wore the same t-shirt and belt buckle that I wore in my self-professed "Get out the vote" picture email).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even staring at the ballot, I knew that today was a big day, a HUGE day for America. I made my selections. I then paused to look at my lit selection for Barack Obama one more time. I wanted to remember seeing it. I then hit "Vote" and walked out of the booth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day after that was, for all accounts, pretty normal. A little distracting of course, but otherwise a normal day. Until 6:00. I was ready... give me some results! I refreshed my browser more times than I could remember. I was listening to The Young Turks and MSNBC at the same time. It was driving me crazy. As the numbers started coming in, I saw McCain's numbers initially higher than Obama's. And I admit, I was discouraged. I had doubts. I wondered if this movement, which has inspired me to hope, which has inspired to me donate to campaigns, which kept me ENTIRELY engaged in the political process was all over now. Was it all just a fools dream? I stuffed my backpack and headed home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent time with my girlfriend, and occasionally peeked at the results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then as she drifted off to sleep, I sat up. I noted the numbers. Obama had more than he needed for the nomination. McCain and Palin were taking the stage... McCain was conceding!&lt;br /&gt;I rushed like a kid on Christmas morning to the living room TV to listen, intently. It was exciting, but the true weight of what was happening hadn't hit me yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sat anxiously waiting for Obama's speech. I texted friends. I was buzzing! And as the camera panned over all those American's in Chicago, their faces... ...it started to hit me. America was stirring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obama spoke, and many times my eyes got moist. My heart soared. But I was almost a little bummed that at this historic moment, I wasn't crying... I wasn't able to let out any other emotion other than excitement, and frankly, this moment felt bigger than that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the camera panned over to Jesse Jackson's tear drenched face, his pensive glare. And my whole chest shuddered with emotion. America was MOVING. Moving on. Moving forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joe Biden stepped out, and I was struck again by what I saw. A black man and a white man, poised on the brink of destiny walked towards each other in unity. They shook hands, and then embraced. We are finally growing into this great country of ours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after that, Obama, Biden, and their families moved off the stage, and I could hear the song playing out over Chicago... Bruce Springsteen's "The Rising".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are my thoughts right after that. Soon I'll go to bed, and too soon, I'll wake up on November 5th.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it will be morning in America. Again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9071056-1588172576520211223?l=thegalleon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegalleon.blogspot.com/feeds/1588172576520211223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9071056&amp;postID=1588172576520211223' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9071056/posts/default/1588172576520211223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9071056/posts/default/1588172576520211223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegalleon.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-morning-in-america-again.html' title='It&apos;s morning in America.  Again.'/><author><name>Sailships</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11530948051162622478</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_z11vpRl1wHY/SGpzw8nMdII/AAAAAAAAAAQ/rzyDo92hKaw/s1600-R/bonoandscott.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9071056.post-110530856357204566</id><published>2005-01-09T13:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-09T14:09:23.573-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Passing thoughts...</title><content type='html'>Little did I know thinking of a secondary blog would be more cumbersome than thinking of the first.&lt;br /&gt;However, the New Year has definitely shifted me to a more contemplative nature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Particularly regarding relationships.  Not limited to romantic relationships, but the relationships that exist between people in general. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For example, the relationships that people have amongst each other on the freeway.  Someone could be tailgating you; or perhaps not merging into the passing lane near your on-ramp, simply so you can join traffic on the freeway; perhaps they just cut you off; or unnecessarily put you in harms way by crossing 3 lanes of traffic with cars oncoming.  All of these examples could aggravate, irritate, and create animosity towards the other person.  However, what if one of these said examples creates one of these said atrocities to you, and you honk, rev, swear and flip at them... and then find out the person was your neighbor?  Your pastor?  Your co-worker?  Your boss? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you still angry?  Embarrassed at the tantrum you just threw?  Secretly resentful for their carelessness?&lt;br /&gt;Say it was your boss... Are you still ready to get in his or her face and ask them if they got their license out of cereal box?  Or at this point, is it easier to let bygones be bygones?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;South Asia and her neighbors have just experienced a natural disaster that has claimed 150,000 people from at least 11 nations.  In 2001, upwards of 2,800 people lost their lives after the terrorist attacks on New York and Pennsylvania.  An outpouring of goodwill and compassion came from both of these travesties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We can love and pity with the turn of the radio station or TV channel.&lt;br /&gt;We can hate and despise within moments, over trivial and literally, passing matters.&lt;br /&gt;How, as a people, are we so easily led to 2 extremes of human emotion? &lt;br /&gt;Is this healthy?  Have we become so wrapped up in ourselves that the merest inconvenience sends us on an entirely different emotional drift?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9071056-110530856357204566?l=thegalleon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegalleon.blogspot.com/feeds/110530856357204566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9071056&amp;postID=110530856357204566' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9071056/posts/default/110530856357204566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9071056/posts/default/110530856357204566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegalleon.blogspot.com/2005/01/passing-thoughts.html' title='Passing thoughts...'/><author><name>Sailships</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11530948051162622478</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_z11vpRl1wHY/SGpzw8nMdII/AAAAAAAAAAQ/rzyDo92hKaw/s1600-R/bonoandscott.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9071056.post-110462250739480866</id><published>2005-01-01T18:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2005-01-01T15:35:07.393-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Day</title><content type='html'>Around this time 16 years ago, I was asked by my mother what my New Years Resolution was going to be.  I was just about to start High School, and was already familiar with some of the identity stealing perils of peer pressure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After some considerable thought, I made it my New Years Resolution to endeavor to be true to myself over all else. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I feel it is equally appropriate that my first "blog" be on New Years Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the beginning of a new year, of new challenges, new world events, new chapters in life...&lt;br /&gt;If the excercise that is blogging is about speaking one's mind and discovering one's path, then I want my first message to be the mission statement for what is bound to follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, to 2005 and beyond, and all that is to come, I hope that this blog will fill with my thoughts and insights, and that each post remains as true to my resolution 16 years ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9071056-110462250739480866?l=thegalleon.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegalleon.blogspot.com/feeds/110462250739480866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=9071056&amp;postID=110462250739480866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9071056/posts/default/110462250739480866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9071056/posts/default/110462250739480866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegalleon.blogspot.com/2005/01/new-years-day.html' title='New Years Day'/><author><name>Sailships</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11530948051162622478</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_z11vpRl1wHY/SGpzw8nMdII/AAAAAAAAAAQ/rzyDo92hKaw/s1600-R/bonoandscott.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
