There is a lot of people that understand the gist of what I am talking about, but want in on the lingo so they can understand better.

Paces, there are enough movies with drill sergeants, saying; "A left, a right left!" That is one pace, and essentially I walked a block down my street, made a right and walked to the next block that I intended to pass. I noticed a car slow down, and stop right when he got to me. I waited a few seconds and stepped out in front of his car right when he hit the gas!

I had a sense of danger about me and am quite good at jumping back four feet when necessary. He went fifteen more feet and hit the brakes to a skid, then speed off for fifty more and basically slid into a parking space which told me, most likely he didn't see me because he was either paying attention to his GPS or someone text messaging the location of their house. Maybe they told him, I was almost hit.

Clicks. It was a three mile walk to the movie theater from Parkville to Towson, MD. That was 4.8 kilometers. I don't know why the US military uses decimal instead of miles, but to make their map readers undumb. Sort of a fraternity thing in my mind.

I had a chance to go to the bathroom as I passed a shopping center, but in the Baltimore area they are pig Irish and don't allow non-customers to use them. My problem was it was across the street, usually find it best to stand in line and make a comment about my aging prostate and go running off to use their bathroom, to then slip out a side door. Just didn't think I had the time available for a fraudulent dramatic play.

I wasn't going to make it to the theater, and had to walk a long fence because at one point Black and Decker had defense contracts and has heavily surveillance and guarded, these days I felt those guards would be bored and looking for an excuse. I chose an area between a mostly unoccupied corporate building and what I thought was senior housing. I am pretty good at being discrete and figured they were blind anyway. Hey, when nature calls.

My father stated it best, "Military chow sucks but for occasional moments that you can take advantage or and you don't die eating the rest." The movie's concession stand was understaffed and total assholes when it came to hot dogs because of the governmental food Nazis. I was figuring on popcorn, a hot dog and a drink.

I had to buy the popcorn first, they wouldn't let me have a hot dog because their infrared thermomter and timer told them it wasn't safe. Despite the fact the hot dog was precooked; I was hunger and didn't care! They would be done after the movie started so I grabbed the first thing they put out which was chicken wings and wedge fries. It cost $20.00 and I threw have of it away, I got a Coke, but they didn't have ice.

My tears... In the case of walking home it was actually the cold wind in the face that was causing them. But while the ending to American Sniper was not dramatic, I did cry and hear the words, "My will be damned!" Despite the fact I wasn't still crying over the movie, I walked home feeling that my face took one hell of a punch to it. If you don't understand what I said, you are blessed!

I attended another event at Westminster Hall in Baltimore that was Poe fundraiser related. A bit tired from Saturday's Sniper affair, I grabbed last bus to the city that wouldn't make me late. Maryland Mass Transit on Sunday's really suck, so I was surprised the bus came early and I ate at a McDonalds that wasn't bad, but still had those moments. So to speak, another chow line!

It was so nice to be able to photograph parts of the event, though it was banned for their presentation, and I got to listen to Victoria Price who is Vincent Price's daughter and a Baltimore resident named John Astin who was Gomez in the Adams Family do recitations of Poe's poetry, though most of the people wanted his story.

When I say all is green, think of a stop light and those terrorism codes. Yet in regards to the green zone, it is a double entendre' as it is only a temporary state of hope. This time it endured and at least I didn't have to throw out another $30.00 ticket.

Not to be disappointed or suffer from some undisclosed karma, it was the bus trip back home that got me! There was a drunk person behind me that was rather peaked and had eaten Chinese food. I also smelled urine and body odor so I went Zen and the sniper movie crept back in as I recollected what I survived which was my nature photography days, which included the exact same skill set and penchant for torture as a military sniper.

With regards to that, the only person that came to my defense was an actual military sniper. What shocked me was, he had more admiration for what I was doing then his own job and it evolved around the variables swirling around in his mind... Time, navigation, final place, still concealed, finding opportunity and bang! In my case, minimum focus, minimum light, right ASA and is the target (subject) doing what was needed for a saleable shot?

"...---..." is the universal sign of distress and need for rescue. I was afraid of suffering a panic attack and loosing it.

A low crawl is actually a sniper term and it refers to crawling on the ground in such a manner that one's movement can not be detective and is almost invisible to even a discerning eye, be it a foot at a time, or inches to a minute.

"Chemical Attack," "A Black hair care product." I have never had a problem with a black hair care product used on an actual black person. But in Baltimore a lot of young black ladies; for whatever reason, tend to ride the bus with their head and face on one of the rails to a bus.

You know when you hit it because you grab a rail for balance and almost eat the floor and you get a greasy, slimy sensation as your hand slips. What you end up with is a very chemical like smell, combined with an off-putting fragrance that remains on your hand.

I managed to make it without using that hand to the Parkville Shopping Center's super market, but those Purell wipes didn't work, so it was to their bathroom where the soap was used up. I took apart that machine and ripped open the bag for the last few drops of soap and it did the job enough to make it home without sliming everything else.

One time I had to go in my back pack, and though I threw out everything I could, that hair care product played Duck, Duck, Goose with me for the next two weeks!

It all took me back to a couple of sublime themes presented in American Sniper which really rang home with me. My advice is for further explanation is to see the movie!

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