comparison essay rewrite #1

The topics I have decided to compare are two things that I hold dear to my heart. I came to the realization that the things I could compare are the things that I know best. I have found in the past that I can expound on both subjects extensively. In fact, I can go on and on about these topics almost to no end.  Being a sailor and being a firefighter on the surface seem quite opposite, but in reality have many of the same principal parts. Some of the principal parts are that both topics require diligence, a high competency in skills, and progress is measured by goals or benchmarks.

The structure of working on a boat and working in the firehouse demand diligence in the daily schedule. In both aspects equipment is check daily and kept in tip-top working order. The reason for this is so that when the equipment is called on to work, the situation can be emergent and dangerous, such as bad weather for a sailor or a fire for the firefighter. An equipment failure can have disastrous consequences. Diligence in navigation is another important point. On a sailboat you must always know where you are geographically, so that you navigate away from dangers like rocks and shallow water. In the firehouse you must know where you are operationally, so you can navigate around dangers such as people being injured or unnecessary damaged to a victims possessions.

Skills are an essential part of both jobs. There are many skill levels to be achieved, from basic skills like tying knots for sailors and operating fire hoses for firefighters. Up to more advanced skill levels like spicing rope or wire for the sailor, and operating the fire engines and ladder trucks for the firefighter. Some skills can be specialized in nature like celestial navigation or emergency medicine, and require advanced levels of training. Naturally, one has to be competent to one skill level before they can advance to greater skills. If the players involved show to be incompetent, much like having defective equipment, the consequences can be disastrous.

Both use goals to measures progress. There are short term goals and long term goals. Some short term goals for a sailor would be to get underway on the next tide or making a certain distance by dark. For the firefighter a short term goal would be to make sure everyone is accounted for or to stop the progression of a fire. Long term goals may be arriving at the final destination on time or maintaining a certain average speed for the sailor. For the firefighter it may be to contain the fire to the building of origin or to preserve evidence knowing that it may be an arson fire. Often the goal that is set is also a benchmark, a certain point that is a known, Monhegan Island or the fire is under control. In both jobs once a goal is met there is a sense of achievement and accomplishment and can be very gratifying.

At face value one can see how different a sailor and a firefighter are. But in comparison they operate the same. I use my skills, to use this tool I know works, to meet this goal. Each one part is dependent on the others to work. I found it very interesting once I started to compare the aspects of these jobs. If one does not pay attention to the equipment, bad things can happen. If one does not know what they are doing, bad things can happen. Progress (or lack there of) can be measured if this is done by this time. I like that both sailing and firefighting both require tangible things to work, goals, tools, skills.

pratice final

Practice final started at 1:37 Tuesday

I really don't have a lot of hobbies. Mostly I get paid for my hobbies so that kind of excludes them as hobbies. What I mean by that even thought you are doing something you like to do, if you are getting paid it becomes a job. I can say that the one hobby I truly enjoy, even though I have not been able to do much of it in the past couple years, is camping. Camping with good friends can be one of the greatest rewards in life for me, and every time I go camping I find I learn something about myself or those with me.

When I say camping I mean in a tent, not in a camp. I find that when you use a tent, and go some place that is off the beaten path, it makes the greatest difference in the experience. Camping is so popular in Maine that getting off the beaten path can be a challenge sometimes. In the past I have done most of my camping with one or two other people usually close friends. But being “out there” seems to make all the difference with people when no one is eavesdropping in the campsite next door. Sitting around the camp fire on a nice night has lead me to learn a lot about my friends. Sometimes conversations are sculpted with the help of alcohol, and sometimes not, but I have had friends open up to me in ways they would never do if others were around. I have learned some of their deepest, darkest secrets, their regrets and triumphs, things that no one else on this planed but me knows.

I once planned a fairly lengthy trek with a good friend. The plan was to travel light and move fast, to cover about fifteen miles over a mountain trial in two days. Just after we started out it began to rain, the wind picked up, and the temperature began to drop. We figured we could push through and make it to a lean-to camp, partly because it was the only two days the two of us had for a while and partly out of determination. As the day passed and the night came the weather did not let up. I had always thought that my friend was very tough and the I would give up on things much before he would. I found that my tough friend had a weakness. About a tenth of a mile from the shelter of the lean-to, he sat down at the base of a tree, started to cry, and resigned himself to death. The trouble was that we were no where near death. It was summer time, it was an easy walk to the lean-to from there and at most it was going to be a very uncomfortable night. I learned that everyone has a weakness and my friend it was the combination of wet, cold, and dark.

I have used some of my camping trips to test myself. I have tried to challenge myself in different ways so that I may learn more about my strengths and weaknesses. I have made trips that were long and rough and very physically demanding. I found from some of these trips that I can dig deep into my energy stores, push on, persevere and make it further than I ever thought I could. This is one of my strengths. I have found one of my weaknesses as well. I used to work for Outward Bound, I had time off and I made arrangements to be put on a tiny, uninhabited island, with minimal supplies and to be checked on every morning to see if I was alright. I learned that I could only go fifteen days without human contact and on he fifteenth day I signaled to be picked up. It wasn't the lack of food or good shelter that got to me, it was not being able to talk to someone that had a profound effect on me. I thought I would have lasted longer but I could not take the isolation.

I truly enjoyed the last several time I have gone camping, it has been much more relaxed than years ago. We camp at sites that we can drive to and not hike. We usually have ample food, drink, and firewood. If it starts to rain I can always sleep in the truck. I use to find great pleasure camping out under the stars, “roughing it”, and pushing myself constantly. As I have gotten older greatest thing that I have learned it that you don't need to push yourself all the time, you can learn things just sitting there by the fire. But it never seems to fail, that no matter how great or how small, I always learning something every time I go camping.

End 2:57

Comparison Essay

I had a hard time trying to come up with topics to compare. I have decided that really the only things that I can write about, are the things that I know best. Right? So there I sat, trying to compare two things that I know about. Finally I realized that I can go on and on, to no end ,about the two things that I really know best. Being a sailor and being a firefighter. These things in reality are very different but by nature are quite similar. Both things require diligence, a high competency in skills, and progress is measured by goals or benchmarks.

The structure of working on a boat and working in the firehouse demand diligence in the daily schedule. In both aspects equipment is check daily and kept in tip-top working order. The reason for this is so that when the equipment is called on to work, the situation can be emergent and dangerous, such as bad weather for a sailor or a fire for the firefighter. An equipment failure can have disastrous consequences. Diligence in navigation is another important point. On a sailboat you must always know where you are geographically, so that you navigate away from dangers like rocks and shallow water. In the firehouse you must know where you are operationally, so you can navigate around dangers such as people being injured or unnecessary damaged to a victims possessions.

Skills are an essential part of both jobs. There are many skill levels to be achieved, from basic skills like tying knots for sailors and operating fire hoses for firefighters. Up to more advanced skill levels like spicing rope or wire for the sailor, and operating the fire engines and ladder trucks for the firefighter. Some skills can be specialized in nature like celestial navigation or emergency medicine, and require advanced levels of training. Naturally, one has to be competent to one skill level before they can advance to greater skills. If the players involved show to be incompetent, much like having defective equipment, the consequences can be disastrous.

Both use goals to measures progress. There are short term goals and long term goals. Some short term goals for a sailor would be to get underway on the next tide or making a certain distance by dark. For the firefighter a short term goal would be to make sure everyone is accounted for or to stop the progression of a fire. Long term goals may be arriving at the final destination on time or maintaining a certain average speed for the sailor. For the firefighter it may be to contain the fire to the building of origin or to preserve evidence knowing that it may be an arson fire. Often the goal that is set is also a benchmark, a certain point that is a known, Monhegan Island or the fire is under control. In both jobs once a goal is met there is a sense of achievement and accomplishment and can be very gratifying.

At face value one can see how different a sailor and a firefighter are. But in comparison they operate the same. I use my skills, to use this tool I know works, to meet this goal. Each one part is dependent on the others to work. I found it very interesting once I started to compare the aspects of these jobs. If one does not pay attention to the equipment, bad things can happen. If one does not know what they are doing, bad things can happen. Progress (or lack there of) can be measured if this is done by this time. I like that both sailing and firefighting both require tangible things to work, goals, tools, skills.

This is a cause essay, not an example essay. As soon as you said "examples of why" you were pushing yourself into giving reasons, causes. Examples would be different: three examples of beauty spots you know in Maine; three examples of neighbor helping neighbor--something along those lines. So, a rewrite and reconception of the type essay--

By johngoldfine on Example essay on 12/2/10

 

I like the second one better anyway. 

example essay rewrite 1

Now I don't like to tell people this, an I have tried to keep it secret for the most part, but I am not from Maine. The first six months of my life were spent in Massachusetts. My whole life I will have to live with the fact that I am not a true Mainer, and it bothers me. I have tried to keep this under raps and not let on that I am a “flatlander”, but I cannot continue to live the lie. I love living in Maine and I cannot imaging living somewhere else. The biggest reason I love living here is the just how beautiful this place is.

My favorite area or region is the coast. I am partial to the water and it is understandable why I gravitate towards the briny blue (green). I lived on Long Island in Casco Bay when I was a very young child and that island is what I think of when I think of the southern Maine coast. There were several sandy beaches on the island and it was a great place to live as a kid. When the morning ferry arrived on a beautiful summer day, droves of people from the mainland would get off with lunch and beach towels in hand. They would walk to Southside Beach, spend the day soaking up the sun, enjoying the sea breeze, and at dusk they all would slowly head back too the ferry dock to head home. That is what I think of when I think of the southern Maine coast, sunny, sandy beaches and lots of people all bunched together.

Bold, rocky, tough, coast line with waters full of life like the mid-coast and downeast coast is what I prefer. As a teenager my best friend and his dad lobster fished off of Criehaven island. Actually, the islands proper name is Ragged Island but the township is called Criehaven, and it located about 18 miles offshore, South East of Rockland.. It is a staggeringly beautiful place. Every summer my two best friends and I would spent a couple of weeks on the island goofing off and doing odd jobs for my friends dad while he fished. I loved it. We would spend our days walking around exploring the island, the wildlife, swimming in the crystal clear water, fires on the rock beach, sunsets and sunrises. It is the most remote and beautiful place I have ever been. Wild, almost untouched nature.  That is what I think of when I think of a downeast/mid-coast coastal island.

In just a few short hours driving from my home base you can be in the amazing Maine North Woods. I have camped and hiked through a big part of this part of the state and there is beauty litrally around every corner. One of the best camping trips I went on was in late September, the start of changing leaves, with fall in the air, and my best friend, we decided to play the whole trip by ear. We ended up staying at a campsite on Round Pond, north west of Umbazooksus Lake.  Arriving late in the day and had camp set just after dark in this great campsite right on the water. I got up first in the morning, just before daybreak, made coffee over the fire and sat in my chair to see one of the most heavenly scenes I have ever witnessed. The golden sunrise lighting up the red, yellow, and orange leaves, on the hill across the pond from me. Its mirror reflection upside down in the glassy calm pond. When I recall that morning before my friend got up, it makes me think of the North Woods and that there really is a God.

I know I have only seen a small portion of this great state of Maine. I am excited to explore other areas when I can. Sometimes in the morning when I get home from my shift, my wife will ask why I am so late. I make up some excuse about not getting out on time or something like that. When in reality I had stopped to look at the mighty Penobscot River or out on the Bay. Sometimes I will be late coming home because I saw a road I have never explored and decided to see where it went. Amazingly picturesque iron bridges over slow moving streams have been discovered by doing this. I said it before and I will say it again. I love living in Maine because there is literally beauty everywhere you look and around every corner.

Example essay alternate ending

It seams every time I go to Portland now, or even to Augusta, things seem much more busy. More like when I lived in the City. I think the secret is out, and more and more people from away are moving here. They have seen how pretty it is and have talked to the people. Now like I say I regrettably am “from away”. I was six months old before I ever set foot in the state of Maine. I married a Maine woman and have two children born in Maine. But as I understand it my kids are not true Mainers. I have been told have to have one whole generation born in the state to be called a Mainer. Because as the old fisherman said “If my cat had kittens in the oven,... I wouldn't call them biscuits”. This is truly a great place to live and I will finish out my days here. I hope it stays the same. I hope that like me, others will make the choice to live like a Mainer. Too, reject or ignore some outside influences like the 24 hour news cycle and Madison Avenue advertising. Go outside, watch the sunset, grow something, climb a hill, swim in a lake, go sailing, go fishing, eat lobster from Port Clyde and potatoes from Hodgton, just take a drive. Just enjoy it, because it is truly the way life should be.

Example essay

Now I don't like to tell people this, an I have tried to keep it secret for the most part, but I am not from Maine. The first six months of my life were spent in Massachusetts. My whole life I will have to live with the fact that I am not a true Mainer, and it bothers me. I have tried to keep this under raps and not let on that I am a “flatlander”, but I cannot continue to live the lie. I love living in Maine and I cannot imaging living somewhere else. Some of the examples of why I love living here are the people who live here, the beauty of this state, and the way of life here. It is truly the way life should be.

The greatest things about this state is the people. A hearty bunch of people who will give you the shirt off there backs if you were to ask. Except for some shady exceptions from the southern part of the state I have never met a more honest, caring, trustworthy bunch of folks. It is not uncommon total strangers to stop and help you if you need it. If your broke down on the side of the road someone will stop. If your arm full of grocery bags starts to rip half way to the car, some will grab an armful and help you lug them. Open the door for you, offer advice at the hardware store, I could go on and on, you name it somebody is always trying to help. They are rugged, practical people with common sense that you just can't keep down.

Maine is a beautiful place for the greater part of the year. The change of seasons, I love Summer, who doesn’t wish it was longer, Fall is amazing, Winter is a pretty adventure, the rebirth of Spring, wow. The season that I really have a problem with is Mud season, I don't care for everything being muddy and dirty and brown. We have such a diverse geographical state and it is all readily available for us to see and enjoy. The mountains of western Maine and their powerful presence. The ocean and all its magnificence. I like the ocean the best. The vast forests of northern Maine. Our five big rivers. I have traveled other places where a lake is a rare thing. But not here, we have so many we have to name them First Machias, Second Machias, all the way up to Fifth Machias lakes, because it was easier to just number them then to keep making up names I guess. I cannot say how many times I have had to pull my car over, get out, and just say “Will you look at that.” The beauty of this state never fails to amaze me.

I remember an old “Bert and I” with an old Mainer talking in thick accent about the old days. He said “Some one said there was a Depression on.....Well up here we didn't notice much.” They are resourceful and can make due with most anything. In Maine the choice of a fancy new ride is not the latest E-Class Mercedes with low profile tires, huge sound system and the “Super Bling” chrome package. It's a new three quarter ton, diesel with a plow and the tow package...red, if you they have one. It is a different way of life where the things that are important in life, really are important. Make due with what you have, and be happy with that, because you are lucky to have what you have.

In the summer I work on a sail boat that sails two charters out of Camden. All summer long I praise the state and the people in it. It's a different way of life than most people are use to who are “from away”. I tell folks that I don't lock my house and I rarely take the keys out of my car. I know people who drive from Eagle Lake to Bangor just to have dinner and enjoy the ride. It is a slower pace of life, not much hustle and bustle. People grow things and raise animals. Harvest from the land and sea. You know your neighbors and will go out of your way for them. Family is the most important thing. People belong to the same church that there great grand parents did. An honest days pay for an honest days work. You assume the best from people. I have seen a grown mans expression change from one of anxiety to a look of relief and contentment simply from driving northbound over the Portsmouth/Kittery bridge.

Effect essay

I have been a paramedic for fifteen years. I received my training at the now defunked Maine EMS Academy at Kennebec Valley Technical College, graduating in 1995. The program ran for twenty years and was touted as the best paramedic school in the northeast. It was the only full-time paramedic training in Maine but unfortunately was shut down in 2005 due to lack of funding. This program was a fantastic program to attend and has turned out some of the best paramedics in the state. Some of the reasons why it was such a good program were that it was highly selective in who it accepted, very high academic standard and an extremely passionate and knowledgeable instructor.

I had been a Basic EMT for several years and had come to the realization that if I wanted to be a career firefighter I needed to be a paramedic. I knew the program was very selective and after the initial application process, applicants had to have an agonizing interview with the instructor and a seasoned paramedic. I had been told that students were selected for several reasons but usually you did not see more than one student from any one geographical area. Students were taken from all over Maine and the Maritimes because Canada's nearest paramedic school was in Montreal. The first day of class the instructor let it be known that there were twenty or thirty people on the waiting list. He said in no uncertain terms that if any one of us was not committed 100% to the class, that now was the time to get out so others may take our spot. Everyone was hand picked by the instructor for various political or geographical reasons. Some were accepted into the program simply because they came from an area where there were a lot of paramedics from another program and our instructor wanted his class to have a presence in that area. At the time I was living in Thomaston, was in my early 20's, and this was good because I really didn't have much going on and there were not many paramedics in the area let alone from this program.

The instructor told us, on the first day, that he had a much higher standard than any other similar program out there. He wasn't kidding. The class consisted full days of classroom lecture on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and clinical rotations Tuesdays, and Thursdays, for the first semester. Second and third semesters were clinical rotations on Mon.,Wed., Fri., and classroom on Tues., and Thurs. At the end of the ten months of class we were to do an internship for two weeks, one in Hartford, Connecticut and the other in Rochester, New York. It was a very time consuming class and required lots of travel for clinical rotations. Clinicals were in Portland, Bangor, Lewiston, Waterville, and Augusta, which combined with travel time and studying made for very short nights. This was only part of what made this program harder than most others. The standard minimum passing grade for most public safety classes is 70%, in this program it was 80%. We had fifty question quizzes every week and the average exam was two hundred and fifty questions and took about four hours to complete. The national requirements for a paramedic class is one thousand hours, five hundred clinical and five hundred didactic. This program was over twenty five hundred hours.

Now the instructor, he came into the room on the first day and said “My name is Paul Plummer and I have bachelors degrees in Philosophy and Theology and I currently working on a bachelors in Microbiology, and this will be the hardest class you have ever had.” Paul was from Mass. and had been a Basic EMT in Boston for a couple of years in the late 1970's before going to paramedic school. He had worked as a paramedic in New York City for six or seven years in the eighties. Now that is the big time, the majors of the EMS world. At the time violent crime was on the rise in NYC , heroin still in full swing and crack was starting to grab hold. Just by saying he worked in New York at that time I knew he had been there, done that, and had the t-shirt. He is a very intense man and was passionate about making sure that he turned out good paramedics. He had seen over his time the damage a poorly trained and educated paramedic could do. There were no half measures with Paul, you either knew the answer to a question or you didn't, and that was it.   He had memorized his lesson plan and often would not look at for house because he knew the information cold. You knew where you stood with Paul and he was the kind of guy that would not sugar coat things at all. If you screwed up, you knew it immediatly, and there was no question what you did wrong. But if someone else screwed up and tried to blame one of his students, he would fight to the death to make sure his students looked good.

That was fifteen years ago, and the program no longer exists. That's to bad because it did turn out some great paramedics, many of which I work with today. At the end of the class, when we did out internship in Rochester, the ambulance company we were riding with tried to recruit all of us and offered double signing bonuses because as they said, we were on a different level than any paramedics graduating in upstate New York. That says a lot about the caliber of paramedics that came out of that class. It was the hardest class I have ever taken and I am very glad I made it through. I feel that I am fortunate to have been through that program because I think it made a better paramedic that the other programs offered then and now. Because I got into one of the most selective programs around, being made to meet a higher standard, and a great instructor, I know that I have received the best training possible in my field.

Division essay

This essay will be very relevant to my life in the recent past. I will discuss what it takes to be a good Fire Officer. This is relevant because for the past two weeks I have been feverishly studying for the Lieutenants exam for the Bangor Fire department where I work. The test was last Thursday and my life has been filled with anxiety and turmoil in preparation and anticipation of this test. In reality, I have been seriously preparing for this test for the last three years and this has lead me through a lot of soul searching and the question of whether I would make a good officer. Some of the qualities I feel make a good Fire Officer are professional, technical knowledge in all aspects of the job, having leadership qualities, and having good decision making abilities.

To have professional knowledge and technical knowledge are two different things but go hand in hand when it comes to being an officer. The technical knowledge aspect is extremely important in that the job can be so diverse in its settings from one moment to the next. A large portion of the job now is Emergency Medical Services or EMS. Having advanced training in this field is essential for a good officer today because that is the majority of the call volume. Further more, technical knowledge is essential in other areas of the job that can be highly technical in nature. For example, Hazardous Materials or Haz-Mat and building construction are two of the areas that are highly technical in nature. Poor knowledge base in these area can lead to the wrong tactics and strategies being used at an incident and putting firefighters and the public in further danger. Understanding how a building is put together, can help an officer predict when it will fall down. Likewise, understanding Haz-Mat will prevent you from spreading a chemical spill, or knowing that it is better to let some chemicals burn. The professional knowledge aspect is what I would call the understanding and savvy to understand the unfortunate political part of the job. By this I mean the inter-department politics as well as the municipal, state, and federal politics that are an unfortunate but a necessary part of the job.

Now as far as the leadership aspect, some will say that good leaders are made and others will say that good leaders are born. Being a good leader can be somewhat subjective in its definition, but I believe is largely made up of personal characteristics. My vision of a good leader is someone that people want to work for, someone that others seek them out to be associate with. Respect is an essential part of being a good leader and that may be the most difficult part to obtain. Some believe that just by having the title or rank you gain respect through the position. I disagree, I feel respect is earned and that once you have earned their respect, your workers they will follow you anywhere. Trust is another part of being a good leader, in that your workers have to trust you when you ask them to do something difficult. Honesty and humility are important traits that play directly into respect and trust. If your are honest to your subordinates and treat them honestly, you will gain their trust. If you can admit when you are wrong and understand that you are not perfect, others will respect you for that and you will gain their respect.

Lastly, you have to make good decisions, and I believe that this is something that you are born with. Some have it and some don't. The initial decisions a Fire Officer makes can determine the outcome of the whole incident. The philosophy is that the decisions you make in the first ten minutes of an incident, determine what will happen in the first hour, and the decisions you make in the first hour decide what will happen in the first day of the incident, and so on. Decision making is directly related to the other points I have made about a good officer. If you do not have the technical knowledge about an some aspect of the job you will make the wrong decisions when faced with a situation. If you don't know that putting water on burning Magnesium causes the Hydrogen and Oxygen molecules to separate thus making the fire more intense, you can get people hurt and cause more damage. Deciding to put water on it and the resulting bright flash and intense heat will cause your subordinates to be scared and not trust you and in turn loose respect. Deciding to reprimand one employee differently than another for the same infraction will cause your subordinates to loose both respect and trust for you as well.

The test I took last Thursday was a pivotal point in my life and career. This test is only a small part in the steps to promotion but it was a big hurdle for me and a lot of other guys. It was extremely important because the test in not given regularly and the last one was several years ago. I am very proud of my results and I will just say that I did well on the test. I had to prioritize things in my daily life so I could have time to study, like taking care of my kids and forgoing some of the work for this class. I didn't like doing it but it payed off. I feel that I have what it takes to be a good officer and I am excited about my prospects. All the aspects that I have discussed are all distinct in themselves but are also contingent upon each of the others. If you don't have the knowledge, you will make bad decisions, and your guys won't respect you. It is a delicate balance of these traits as well as others to make a good Fire Officer, lacking any one of these traits will put the rest off balance. I have seen good leaders who make poor decisions, and very knowledgeable men who are poor leaders, and great tactical decisions made by guys you cannot trust. Only time will tell if I poses the things that will make me a good officer.

It was all of the above reasons.  And this was after I cut a bunch out.  I just felt mostly that this is what I had to say.  I am long winded by nature anyway.  I guess it spilled over this time.

Graf #10

My wife looks up from her coffee and announces to me that she hears a grinding noise when she pushes the brakes in her car. I go out and look and sure enough I see the rotors are all gouged and she has obviously ignored the squeaking the brakes were making for quite some time. Now I will be the first to admit that I am not a mechanic. I know what most of the parts are but not how to replace them. This time it was a little different. Money was tight and after calling a couple of garages we were resigned to the fact this was going to cost us four or five hundred dollars. That's when I came to me. I will learn how to do brakes. I went to the local automotive store and purchased a set of rotors, a set of brake pads, and a Chilton's manual for her car model. It was easy to get the components apart but when it came to getting them back together the book left some gaps. I placed a phone call to a friend who is a mechanic and he was able to talk me through some of the voids. I got the job done and it took three or four times longer that if we had taken it to a garage but it cost less that a hundred bucks. Now I do the brakes on both our cars.

Cause essay in place of Process

I am a fireman. It is really all I have ever done and all I have ever wanted to do. This is how I would define myself if I had too. The fire service has been what my life has revolved around for the past 23 years. It is the best job in the world and I thank God everyday I am able to do it. I look back now and try to figure how I got here and what made the difference in my life to get me here. The first inclination that I can remember being interested in joining my hometown fire department was a fire near my house in 1987. That fire sparked something in me. Also, through out my life I have had some great friends, role models and mentors who were able to guide me through the minefield of youth and into a career. Because of this I have come to realize that this is the job for me and the type of person I am. This single incident, great friends and mentors, and the way my brain is wired all lead me to where I am today.

It was a cool night in the fall of 1987. The sun had set, it was dark but still early in the evening. As I recall it was around seven or eight at night. I was at home and heard the fire horn blowing in the distance letting the town know there was a fire. It was not uncommon to hear the fire horn in those days and I dismissed it after a couple of seconds. Shortly after that I could hear sirens coming down Rt. 1 in my direction, again not really a big deal because the fire trucks often went by on their way to Rockland. I looked out the window as they were going by and noticed they were stopping at a house nearby. Now it was getting exciting and I put on shoes and a coat and went over to see what was happening. When I got nearer I could see there was a small fire on the second floor and the firefighters were already putting it out. There was smoke and flashing lights and commotion and it got my adrenaline flowing. A smoldering mattress was thrown out the window on the second floor on top of some other smoking debris and was being wet down by some firefighters outside and that was pretty much it. It was really exciting and interesting and something sparked my interest so to speak.

As that fire was wrapping up I saw a friend of mine who was on the fire department and he came over to talk told me I should join. The department had what was called a Junior program and you could join when you were 16 years old. I joined the Thomaston Volunteer Fire Department in November 1987, a month after my 16 birthday, and the Rockland Fire department call division in 1992. At that time there were several other guys on both departments the same age as me, and over the years there was great competition between all us. These guys were tried and true friends and the competition was the best fireman. Always competing for bragging rights of being the first to the station, the first to get geared up and on the truck, the first to get the hose and so on. I believe that this competition and camaraderie is what drove most of us to pursue careers in the Public Safety and shaped our future. Most of them stayed in the mid-coast area, but I applied and was hired to the Bangor Fire department in the fall of 1996.

Along with these friends were many adults that saw in us the potential for the next generation of firefighters and taught us what we would need to do in order to move on to career departments. They were mentors and not only taught us about fighting fire but how to stay out of trouble both in a fire and in life. They taught us things that were not in the training books and classes but what they had learned in their tenure fighting fires, and prodded us to do better and work hard. Not only did these mentors teach me about the technical aspects of firefighting, they taught me about being a man, how to treat others, respect, compassion and the “Brotherhood” in the fire service.

I have come to realize over the years that I am good at being a fireman. Like I said before, it is the way I am wired. It fits my personality perfectly. The knowledge base for a firefighter is pretty simple, in that I have to know a little about a lot of things. I have to have a working knowledge of building construction, plumbing, electrical, heavy equipment operation, hydraulics, human anatomy, pharmacology, psychology, ropes and rigging, public relations, thermal dynamics, risk analysis, legal aspects, and any other thing that you can think of. Sounds simple right? It is not just putting water on fire, and I like that. I have to see bad things, sometimes really bad things. That is part of the job. The way I look at this is that I don't mind seeing some of the things that I do, and if someone has to do this it may as well be me.

I am by nature a compassionate person and always assume the best in people. I like to take care of people and help them in any way I can. This is not just at work, I stop to help people I see broken down on the side of the road and I expect nothing in return. My neighbors know that if they need help with anything, moving something heavy, help building something, or tearing something down, or just someone to watch the kids, they call me. Someone once said “That's the funny thing about fireman...24 hours a day they are always fireman.” I truly believe this, we always want to help no matter what or who, unconditionally. It takes a certain type of person to do this and I feel that it is a calling. I understand the trust people put in me being a fireman. Think about it for a minute, a total stranger will run up to me and thrust the most important things in the world to them into my hands without hesitation. Someone they have never met. A mother will hand me her only child to help them, someone she has never even seen before, she knows absolutely nothing about me, not even my name, only that I am a fireman and that I can help. One of the greatest things in the world to me is the look of relief on peoples faces when I walk in the door. I cherish the trust that the public puts in me and the responsibility that goes along with it.

I am lucky in that I have known what I wanted to for work since I was a teenager. Many people never find out what whey want to do in life and move from job to job or just settle on a job they are not happy at. My job defines me, and I define it. It is what I eat, sleep, and breath. It consumes most of my waking thoughts. A couple of interesting incidents, and some great people all made a mark on the career path I took. This combined with my personality has lead me to where I am now. I feel it is where I am supposed to be in life and I could not imagine doing anything else. The initial attraction of the excitement and adrenaline has changed over the years. I still love the rush of going into a fire, but now it seems to be more for the satisfaction of knowing I made a difference in someones life. I know with out a doubt have the best job in the world and not a lot of folks can say that.

Contrast essay alternate ending

My grandfathers lived in the same town, about a mile from each other. Both were in WWII veterans, were decorated, and were war hero’s. I don't remember ever seeing them together or them talking about the other even though they knew each other. One was outgoing, upbeat, physically active and had a large family. The other was a home body and could often be found in his chair in front of the TV. Both men were loving and cared about there families. But how they carried themselves in daily life were quite opposite.

My grandfathers were great men in my eyes. I have always regretted not knowing them better, but that is a sad consequence of me growing up in Maine and them living in Massachusetts. My father's, father was Ralph, and my mother's, father was Art. Both men grew up in the area around Northborough, Mass. through the depression. As I got older I was very curious about their childhoods and would press them for stories. Art's recollections were very different than Ralph's. Grampa Ralph would say that it was a horrible time to be a kid, that times were tough and he can always remembered being hungry, and the house always being cold. He had to move in with relatives and there were six children sharing the same bedroom. Ralph recalled his father telling the older children at dinner one night, that they were going to have to stop going to school for a while and work on a nearby farm in exchange for food for the family. Art's stories were so different in their tone I still wonder if he may have embellish a bit to make his stories sound more adventurous than they really were. He would say that it was an exciting time. Talk about being self-reliant and resourceful. About having pride in making due with what you had. He would say how fun it was to be out hunting for rabbit or squirrel in the woods behind his house, by himself, when he was ten or eleven years old.

Probably the largest contrast between the two was their experiences in WWII. Ralph was finely accepted into the Air Corp after being rejected by the other branches for having “Flat Feet”. He was shot down over France and spent two years in a P.O.W. camp. I believe this would define the rest of Ralph's life. It was a very difficult time and he had great difficulty adjusting when he returned home. He spoke about it freely, and with great detail, as I remember. He would sit my brother and I down and tell us all about being shot down, getting wounded, and being a prisoner. But looking back I can tell that this troubled him greatly. Today we talk about P.T.S.D. and the like, and all the ways that we can help our vets who have been through such horrible experiences. Back then there was nothing to help him cope with this and he had difficulty with reliving those experiences. How he tried to cope with his war experiences was with alcohol. He drank and smoked heavily and as he got older, alienated much of the family because of his drinking. When we would visit he would often start drinking around noon and by the late afternoon he would be swearing at us kids in German, and yelling amazingly bigoted statements over the fence at the neighbors. If he was not my Grandfather I would have said he was a rotten, bitter, old man. Which, in fact, he was.

Art on the other hand never spoke of the War. He was the classic “Greatest Generation”. He was always upbeat and positive. I never remember him yelling or even being cross about anything. My Mother tells that when she and her brothers would ask what he did in the War, he would just say that he did nothing special and that he build bridges. He would down play his role in the War and say he just did his job like everyone else over there. A few years before his death my Grandmother convinced him to write about his experiences so that his children would know what he had done. He was a Combat Engineer and was decorated for saving ten men when their boat sank during river crossing. Art and another man jumped into their boat, which was made for 5 men, and were able to get to the men before they drowned. I asked him about this once and why he went out after those men in a much smaller boat and risked them swamping his boat, he said “because we were closest and somebody had to do something.” The company the Art lead, later received a Presidential Commendation for building the first bridge over the Rhine River and thus pushing the Nazi's back into Germany. He made history and would only acknowledge that he “did his job, like every other man over there”. Art had a big family and as my mother would say, he worked very hard but always made time for his family. This is what defined his life.

Both these men grew up in the same small town, went to the same schools, raised there families very near each other, with many the same values and beliefs. Similar enviornment.  Both men were very similar in that they were caring men, who loved there families and worked very hard to provide for them. But they were polar opposites in there everyday life. I often wonder how my parents came together when they came from such different households. In Ralph's house you were ofter called by a bigoted, derogatory nickname. He would refer to my mother as “The Frog” when she and my dad were dating. He even called his wife “The Dumb Swede”, and those were the tame ones. Ralph was a hard drinking, chain smoking, bitter, sour old man that my brother and I feared. He blamed the fact that he was mean, and alienated his kids and neighbors on his experiences in the War. He loved his family, I have no doubt of that, but he never showed it. In Art's house his kids were taught to always looking for the positive, smile, and you were always getting hugged their. He never blamed anyone else for the things that he did wrong, he owned up to them and said he was sorry. You were encouraged by Art and praised when you did something good. It was truly a positive environment, in contrast to the extremely negative one at Ralph's. Is it related to enviornment or just personalities?  I don't know.  With such different upbringings I don't see how my parents stayed together, maybe it is that opposites do attract.

I search 'what'

What do I know? I know that I have four chickens. I know that they are Rhode Island Reds. We were told this when we got the chicks but has been confirmed by seeing pictures in one of my daughters childrens books about farm animals. They live in a coop that I built that is 4' by 10'. It has a 4' by 4' house area that has laying boxes and roosts built in and is elevated 20 inches off the ground. The rest of the coop is caged in with wire and the birds roam around it. It has access to the house area from a small door on the outside that has access to the laying boxes and a large door that makes up the caged in side of the house. I built in a window on either side of the house area with shutters to keep the weather out. There is a small opening for the birds to access the house area via a ramp going from ground level.

We have purchased a feeder and a waterer. These seem to work well and the birds will go through about 5 gallons of water in about 10 days. Some of this I believe is due to spillage because the waterer is suspended from the roof of the coop by cord to keep it off the ground. The water becomes quite dirty after a few days and I believe this is from the birds scratching dirt into it. About every other filling of the water I have started adding one teaspoon of bleach to the 5 gallons of water in order to prevent algae growth. This appears to work well because initially there was some green growth on the inside of the waterer and that has gone away. Initially, I had the feeder inside the house, suspended by cord. This had to be moved several times because the birds would get on the roost above the feeder and defaecate into the top of the feeder. I have recently moved the feeder outside the house area and I curious if this will make a difference in there feeding. They eat approximately four pounds of feed in a week. We initially used a chick food that had an antibiotic in it but have moved over to a pellet feed that is supposed to be formulated for mature, laying birds. This information was provided to us by the hardware store where we bought the feed. We also give them “scratch” which appears to be cracked corn, and we were told this will keep them from pecking each other.

What else do know? They make a lot of poop and apparently don't mind eating each others poop. I have put wood shavings in the house area of the coop and that seems to need to be cleaned every 2-3 weeks. I was told that I should paint the inside of the coop with Diatomaceous Earth mixed with water (old fashion White Wash) as well as sprinkle the shavings with the powered Diatomaceous Earth. This will keep the wood from rotting, keep bugs away and keep the smell down. We have been unable to purchase Diatomaceous Earth because of a nation wide shortage supposedly.

We let them out to roam the yard when we are outside with them and they appear to like this. They get excited when we come to the door of the coop and line up to try and get out. They will eat most anything. I have given them bugs and worms and they like them very much. I was told not to give them slugs because they can swell in their craw and choke them. They like the vegetables that have gone by from the garden but won't take anything off a plant just what has fallen on the ground. They don't make a lot of noise and don't mind human contact because they will readily allow us to pick them up without running off. They are enjoyable to watch.

We are getting on average 2 eggs in a 24 hour period. My seven year old daughters chore is to check for eggs when she gets home from school, and she loves this. Some days we only get one egg but on several occasions we have had four eggs. This is good for our family size and we have not bought eggs for a couple of months. I am confused by this.

I know that I do not know how many hens or how many roosters I have. This kind of bothers me. Of the four, two are lighter colored with a lighter brown and white feathers, and two are colored with a darker brown on the head and less white on the body feathers. Two have similar coloring and two have another.  We were told by friends who raise chickens that we wouldn't know if we had any roosters until we heard “cock-a-doodle-dew”. We have not heard any type of crowing from any of them. They were hatched in April we were told they should be mature in September or October. We started getting eggs in mid August so at least one hen was early. But common sense would tell me that because of the difference in coloring and the small egg count that I have at least one rooster. The plan is this when we find out if we have a rooster, and when the hens stop laying, they will get separated, fattened up for a couple weeks and then butchered. This may be hard because they have become more like pets than food, even though I have tried to prepare my kids for this inevitability.

Rewrite classification essay

I knew I had made the wrong decision within about a half an hour. BANG...SPLASH... the wave sweeps over the boat and now there is no part of me that is dry. The boat is healed over so much I have one foot on the cockpit wall to be able to stand. I have to much sail on her. In the harbor I had made a decision that could make this a miserable day. I had chosen to keep more sail on her as opposed to shortening sail, called “reefing”, in hopes to gain speed and arrive at our destination sooner. One of the things I like most about sailing is making the boat work at maximum efficiency. This is a hard thing to do, and I had passed maximum efficiency and had gone beyond. Now I was cold and wet and not having fun. How a sailboat operates and rides can be broken up into three categories. Too much sail, not enough sail, and just right. This determines how the boat will ride and how fast or slow you go. But most importantly it determines wither it is a calm, comfortable, safe ride, or a wet, bumpy, white knuckled, unsafe ride. The goal is to choose the right combination of sail for the conditions. The balance between sail, wind and waves is like asking a beautiful women to dance for the first time. It is a delicate thing to do, can be hard to achieve, and if you do not learn how she likes to dance, you won't be easy to dance with her again.

Having too much sail up on a sailboat can be dangerous and is always uncomfortable. The worst case point of sail is when you have to travel up wind. This is called “beating to weather” and the reason it is called “beating” is because it beats you and the boat up. Because a sailboat cannot travel directly into the wind it must travel back and forth, zig-zagging, up wind and into the waves to gain ground. Doing this requires the sails to be positioned pulled in tight to the center line of the boat. By doing this it makes the boat lean or “heal” over more. If you have to much sail on the boat will heal over so much that it is hard to stand and is very uncomfortable. Also, because you are going into the waves, the sea has a tendency to smash into and brake over the boat. This makes the ride very wet, and after having the salt water sting and chill your body for a couple hours, it can get a little old. Another draw-back to this point of sail with too much sail is that it is very hard on the boat. The forces placed on the boat with the sails and crashing into the seas can stress equipment and cause it to brake, and that is never a good thing. The greatest risk with having too much sail is that the boat may be “knocked down” this is when the boat is forced on it's side or “beam ends” at ninety degrees or more. If this happen the boat can fill with water and go down or break the mast. This is the worst case scenario.

Having not enough sail can also make the boat very uncomfortable as well. This can be a tough one to fix. If you have too much sail you can usually reef the boat when it becomes uncomfortable. When there is not enough sail it can be hard to add sail once you are under way. It is a common mistake to shorten sail too much. With big wind and sea it is easy to take in too much sail. The problem with this, with either big wind or light breezes is, it that it is hard to get anywhere. The boat has to move, and the sails make it move. If there is too little sail you run the risk of staying out longer in bad weather and subjecting yourself to greater danger. With the lack of speed and progress under too little sail the weather may deteriorate and you can place yourself in a worse situation. If the wind is moderate or light, and you don't have enough sail, the problem is that you miss out on making the boat work efficiently and you just don't get anywhere. One of the greatest risks of having not enough sail is a situation with big seas and little sail up. Doing this causes the boat to get pushed up over waves and drop off the back of them. This is caused by a lack of speed and momentum. If you keep your speed and momentum the boat will carry through the wave an not loose much speed. This is dangerous because it causes the boat to surge, the waves suddenly slowing the boat for a moment. This surging can cause damage to the boat by suddenly and repeatedly shock loading components and causing them to break. Also the surging can cause people to fall and is very uncomfortable because you are always fighting to keep you balance.

Having just the right amount of sail can be one of the most wonderful experiences you can witness. There is where knowledge and experience come into play. Understand what your boat will do, in different conditions is an art form all in itself. Speed and stability. This is where I wanted to be. Perfect balance of wind and waves is the goal I was reaching for. No one can see the future and I had gambled that conditions would not change. I was wrong, this happens often and is the constant game every sailor plays. Trying to see the future and predict what the conditions will do. To reach that balance I would have to shorten sail. With just the right amount of sail the boat will move the water in perfect combination of beauty and science. Keeping the boat safe an comfortable is one thing. But to combine that with speed is something all in itself. Most sailboats have more than one sail and by balancing these sails you can make the boat act differently in different conditions. Adding or taking sail from the front or back of the boat can achieve different results.

To classify these conditions is somewhat subjective. Unsafe or uncomfortable can mean different things to different people. As a rule of thumb though, to much sail can make the boat heal excessively and causes folks to walk on the walls to get around. Not much fun. Too little sail would make the ride very bumpy, and often makes sailors fall and bump their heads, even without their grog. That is certainly not fun. To have the just the right amount of sail is a symphony. Many components working in unison to achieve something beautiful and amazing. Like a poorly played symphony, a poorly operated sailboat can cause people to leave, never want to come back, and not to speak nicely of the person who brought them there.

Contrast essay

My grandfathers lived in the same town, about a mile from each other. Both were in WWII veterans, were decorated, and were war hero’s. I don't remember ever seeing them together or them talking about the other even though they knew each other. One was outgoing, upbeat, physically active and had a large family. The other was a home body and could often be found in his chair in front of the TV. Both men were loving and cared about there families. But how they carried themselves in daily life were quite opposite.

My grandfathers were great men in my eyes. I have always regretted not knowing them better, but that is a sad consequence of me growing up in Maine and them living in Massachusetts. My father's, father was Ralph, and my mother's, father was Art. Both men grew up in the area around Northborough, Mass. through the depression. As I got older I was very curious about their childhoods and would press them for stories. Art's recollections were very different than Ralph's. Grampa Ralph would say that it was a horrible time to be a kid, that times were tough and he can always remembered being hungry, and the house always being cold. He had to move in with relatives and there were six children sharing the same bedroom. Ralph recalled his father telling the older children at dinner one night, that they were going to have to stop going to school for a while and work on a nearby farm in exchange for food for the family. Art's stories were so different in their tone I still wonder if he may have embellish a bit to make his stories sound more adventurous than they really were. He would say that it was an exciting time. Talk about being self-reliant and resourceful. About having pride in making due with what you had. He would say how fun it was to be out hunting for rabbit or squirrel in the woods behind his house, by himself, when he was ten or eleven years old.

Probably the largest contrast between the two was their experiences in WWII. Ralph was finely accepted into the Air Corp after being rejected by the other branches for having “Flat Feet”. He was shot down over France and spent two years in a P.O.W. camp. I believe this would define the rest of Ralph's life. It was a very difficult time and he had great difficulty adjusting when he returned home. He spoke about it freely, and with great detail, as I remember. He would sit my brother and I down and tell us all about being shot down, getting wounded, and being a prisoner. But looking back I can tell that this troubled him greatly. Today we talk about P.T.S.D. and the like, and all the ways that we can help our vets who have been through such horrible experiences. Back then there was nothing to help him cope with this and he had difficulty with reliving those experiences. How he tried to cope with his war experiences was with alcohol. He drank and smoked heavily and as he got older, alienated much of the family because of his drinking. When we would visit he would often start drinking around noon and by the late afternoon he would be swearing at us kids in German, and yelling amazingly bigoted statements over the fence at the neighbors. If he was not my Grandfather I would have said he was a rotten, bitter, old man. Which, in fact, he was.

Art on the other hand never spoke of the War. He was the classic “Greatest Generation”. He was always upbeat and positive. I never remember him yelling or even being cross about anything. My Mother tells that when she and her brothers would ask what he did in the War, he would just say that he did nothing special and that he build bridges. He would down play his role in the War and say he just did his job like everyone else over there. A few years before his death my Grandmother convinced him to write about his experiences so that his children would know what he had done. He was a Combat Engineer and was decorated for saving ten men when their boat sank during river crossing. Art and another man jumped into their boat, which was made for five men, and were able to get to the men before they drowned. I asked him about this once and why he went out after those men in a much smaller boat and risked them swamping his boat, he said “because we were closest and somebody had to do something.” The company the Art lead, later received a Presidential Commendation for building the first bridge over the Rhine River and thus pushing the Nazi's back into Germany. He made history and would only acknowledge that he “did his job, like every other man over there”. Art had a big family and as my mother would say, he worked very hard but always made time for his family. This is what defined his life.

Both these men grew up in the same small town, went to the same schools, raised there families very near each other, with many the same values and beliefs. Both men were very similar in that they were caring men, who loved there families and worked very hard to provide for them. But they were polar opposites in there everyday life. Art would always looking for the positive, smiling, and giving out hugs to the whole family. Ralph, always negative and blaming everyone else for his troubles. Either way they were my grandfathers and I miss them deeply. Two men who were so opposite but came from the same place.

rewrite contrast Intro #2

When I remember visiting my grandfathers when I was a child, it seemed like each was from a different world. Even though they lived about a mile apart, in the same town I cannot ever remember seeing them together at the same place. They were two men that were very similar in many ways, shared many of the same experiences in life, but were totally different in how they carried themselves in daily life. One upbeat and positive, the other negative and coarse. Both of my grandfathers have long since passed but the memories from my childhood are still as clear as if they were yesterday and is amazing how different these men were.

I-search 'why'

I have four chickens living in my backyard. I know virtually nothing about raising chickens. It started as a causal conversation with my wife late last winter. The idea was to try something new and it would be an easy way to have some insect control for the garden and yard. We would have fertilizer for gardening and for the worst case scenario we would eat them. Before I knew it she had been to a local farm and purchased four chicks for $12. She brought them home in a shoe box and had stopped at the hardware store on her way. She asked a worker at the store what she would need to get started with these chicks and he directed her to the feeders and other equipment. All the stuff she would have to have to start these chicks. The hardware store also sells chickens but had been sold out for months and had a waiting list for the next shipment. So in the door she comes with a fifty pound bag of chick feed and a brown shoe box that was peeping. The kids were excited about the prospect of some new pets and had a great time playing with them in the box. I sat and looked at the little yellow, fluffy, peeping things and asked myself what had I gotten into. They look cute now but what happens when they start to grow. One of the biggest issues that I had was to make sure these animals were cared for properly and humanly (until they went into the pot). I know almost nothing about raising chickens, and I will need to answer some questions.

• Where will they live?

- What kind of coop will they need to live in, and how much space will this require?

- Where should I locate the coop? Near or away from the house?

- How will I keep them warm in the winter months? And who warm to they need to be?

• How do you care for them? What things do I need to have to properly care for them?

- How fast will they grow?

- When can they go outside too live?

- What kind of diseases do they carry? And can they make my family sick?

- How long to they live? And when do they start laying eggs?

- How can I tell a male from a female?

- Is there anything I need to know before eating the eggs?

• How do you clean a chicken for eating?

- What is the process for cleaning a chicken?

- What is a good size to turn them into meat chickens?

-What do you feed them to fatten them up before slaughter?

-How will the girls react when one is on the table?

-Will they taste different without all the growth hormones and antibiotic in them?

Now that I have all these questions to answer I am getting somewhat excited about the future.

contrast intro #1

 

My grandfathers lived in the same town, about a mile from each other. Both were in WWII veterans, were decorated, and were war hero’s. I don't remember ever seeing them together or them talking about the other even though they knew each other. One was outgoing, upbeat, physically active and had a large family. The other was a home body and could often be found in his chair in front of the TV. Both men were loving and cared about there families. But how they carried themselves in daily life were quite opposite.

contrast intro #2

I have two daughters. One is seven and the other is almost three. They are both there fathers daughters and are good kids. But it staggers me when I see how different these two offspring from he same male and female are. They have some of the same facial features and mannerisms. But these two cannot be more opposite in personality. Because of my work schedule I play Mr. Mom on a regular basis and I have an very active role in my kids lives. I have done this since my oldest was an infant. Now, some of it may be the difference in there ages. But when I recall taking care of the oldest when she was almost three, things were much different.  I can say with almost certainty, if we had had the second one first...there would not have been a second one.

I-search BACKROUND

 

 

BACKROUND

As a small child I can remember my grandparents having farm animals. Chickens and a couple of horses as I recall. This was interesting because they lived in a suburb of Boston not really out in the country. This was interesting to me because we only would visit a couple of times a year and it was a great treat to see the animals. My grandfather had a chicken coop in the barn. My brother and I would play in the barn and my grandfather would yell at us not to upset the chickens. I was small and didn't understand what he meant about upsetting the chickens. As I recall the coop was only four of five small cages, with two or three chickens in each of them, in the back of the barn that were open on the bottom to the outside. I cannot remember what kind of chickens the were or if they lay eggs or not, but that they seemed very aggressive and nasty. There was and amazing stench coming from the manure pile under the coop. I can remember my grandmother saying she was going out to get dinner once and watching her walk to the barn. She was gone for quite a while and we were not allowed to go outside or near the barn. Some time later I remember her walking in the back door carrying a brown paper bag and she had feathers on her apron. I was confused why she didn't leave to go get dinner, and what was in the bag. She never even got into her car. It was fried chicken for dinner that night. Later I remember visiting and my Aunt, who lived with my grandparents, had build a larger coop outside that had a large open area in it and she had many more chickens. I was always intimidated by the chickens and the way they would go crazy when we would come around. They would make a lot of noise and fly around the coop. That was my only real interaction with chickens for the majority of my life. Growing up we only had house pets and never any birds. As an adult I can recall only one other experience with like this while invited to dinner at my then girlfriend, now wife's, grandparents house. We had a whole roasted chicken served up just like Thanksgiving. All the trimmings and was the best chicken I had ever had. I had never had a whole roasted chicken at my house growing up. Never. It was fantastic and I still remember what a how much I enjoyed the novelty of it. My wife, then girlfriend, said that the chicken came from out back, that her grandparents had always had a couple of them around. It didn't dawn on me until the drive home that that chicken had been walking around that morning. Now, I have four chickens living in my back yard. We bought them last spring with the idea the they would wander around the yard eating ticks, fleas and bugs in the garden. I had no prior knowledge of raising chickens, and all of a sudden I had four little yellow fuzz balls living in a box in the dinning room.

classification 5 graf essay

     I knew I had made the wrong decision within about a half an hour. BANG...SPLASH... the wave sweeps over the boat and now there is no part of me that is dry. The boat is healed over so much I have one foot on the cockpit wall to be able to stand. I have to much sail on her. In the harbor I had made a decision that could make this a miserable day. I had chosen to keep more sail on her as opposed to shortening sail, called “reefing”, in hopes to gain speed and arrive at our destination sooner. One of the things I like most about sailing is making the boat work at maximum efficiency. This is a hard thing to do, and I had passed maximum efficiency and had gone beyond. Now I was cold and wet and not having fun. How a sailboat operates and rides can be broken up into three categories. Too much sail, not enough sail, and just right. This determines how the boat will ride and how fast or slow you go. But most importantly it determines wither it is a calm, comfortable, safe ride, or a wet, bumpy, white knuckled, unsafe ride. The goal is to choose the right combination of sail for the conditions.  The balance between sail, wind and waves is like asking a beautiful women to dance for the first time. It is a delicate thing to do, can be hard to achieve, and if you do not learn how she likes to dance, you won't be easy to dance with her again.

      Having too much sail up on a sailboat can be dangerous and is always uncomfortable. The worst case point of sail is when you have to travel up wind. This is called “beating to weather” and the reason it is called “beating” is because it beats you and the boat up. Because a sailboat cannot travel directly into the wind it must travel back and forth, zig-zagging, up wind and into the waves to gain ground. Doing this requires the sails to be positioned pulled in tight to the center line of the boat. By doing this it makes the boat lean or “heal” over more. If you have to much sail on the boat will heal over so much that it is hard to stand and is very uncomfortable. Also, because you are going into the waves, the sea has a tendency to smash into and brake over the boat. This makes the ride very wet, and after having the salt water sting and chill your body for a couple hours, it can get a little old. Another draw-back to this point of sail with too much sail is that it is very hard on the boat. The forces placed on the boat with the sails and crashing into the seas can stress equipment and cause it to brake, and that is never a good thing. The greatest risk with having too much sail is that the boat may be “knocked down” this is when the boat is forced on it's side or “beam ends” at ninety degrees or more. If this happen the boat can fill with water and go down or break the mast. This is the worst case scenario.

     Having not enough sail can also make the boat very uncomfortable as well. This can be a tough one to fix. If you have too much sail you can usually reef the boat when it becomes uncomfortable. When there is not enough sail it can be hard to add sail once you are under way. It is a common mistake to shorten sail too much. With big wind and sea it is easy to take in too much sail. The problem with this, with either big wind or light breezes is, it that it is hard to get anywhere. The boat has to move, and the sails make it move. If there is too little sail you run the risk of staying out longer in bad weather and subjecting yourself to greater danger. With the lack of speed and progress under too little sail the weather may deteriorate and you can place yourself in a worse situation. If the wind is moderate or light, and you don't have enough sail, the problem is that you miss out on making the boat work efficiently and you just don't get anywhere. One of the greatest risks of having not enough sail is a situation with big seas and little sail up. Doing this causes the boat to get pushed up over waves and drop off the back of them. This is caused by a lack of speed and momentum. If you keep your speed and momentum the boat will carry through the wave an not loose much speed. This is dangerous because it causes the boat to surge, the waves suddenly slowing the boat for a moment. This surging can cause damage to the boat by suddenly and repeatedly shock loading components and causing them to break. Also the surging can cause people to fall and is very uncomfortable because you are always fighting to keep you balance.

     Having just the right amount of sail can be one of the most wonderful experiences you can witness. There is where knowledge and experience come into play. Understand what your boat will do, in different conditions is an art form all in itself. With just the right amount of sail the boat will move the water in the perfect combination of beauty and science. Understanding the science can create a beautiful thing. Keeping the boat safe an comfortable is one thing. But to combine that with speed is something all in itself. Most sailboats have more than one sail and by balancing these sails you can make the boat act differently in different conditions. Adding sail to the front of the boat and shortening sail on the back of the boat will drive the bow into the water. This is better for sailing with the wind at your back, and makes the boat go faster. Adding sail to the front and back of the boat, but taking sail out of the middle of the boat can make the boat ride comfortably in heavy weather while maintaining speed. Taking sail off the front and keeping sail on the back of the boat is best for “beating” into the wind. It allows the boat to ride over the waves somewhat and keeps them from smashing into the boat.

     The perfect balance between sail, wind, and seas is a hard thing to achieve. But when it is done it is magical. Harnessing the wind to slip over the water is graceful and majestic. It is amazing to think that man has been sailing for centuries and only until modern times did someone do the math and figure out how a sailboat moves. Before that, it was hundreds of years of trial and error. To be aboard a boat that is traveling fast, under perfect trim, is a thing to behold. It is a symphony. Many things working in unison to achieve something beautiful and amazing. But, if one of these things, such as a sail, is off or hits a bad note, it is noticeable and undesirable. Like a poorly played symphony, a poorly operated sailboat can cause people to leave and never want to come back.

Classification Outro

The perfect balance between sail, wind, and seas is a hard thing to achieve. But when it is done, it is magical. Harnessing the wind to slip over the water can be graceful and majestic. It is amazing to think that man has been sailing for centuries and only until modern times did someone do the math and figure out how a sailboat moves. Before that, it was hundreds of years of trial and error. To be aboard a boat that is traveling fast, and 

efficiently, under perfect trim, is a thing to behold. It is a symphony. Many things working in unison to achieve something beautiful and amazing. But, if one of these things, such as a sail, is off or hits a bad note, it is noticeable and undesirable. Like a poorly played symphony, a poorly operated sailboat can cause people to leave and never want to come back.

classification intro #2

 

 

I knew I had made the wrong decision within about a half an hour. BANG...SPLASH... the wave sweeps over the boat and now there is no part of me that is dry. The boat is healed over so much I have one foot on the cockpit wall to be able to stand. I have to much sail on her. In the harbor I had made a decision that could make this a miserable day. I had chosen to keep more sail on her as opposed to shortening sail, called “reefing”, in hopes to gain speed and arrive at our destination sooner. One of the things I like most about sailing is making the boat work at maximum efficiency. This is a hard thing to do, and I had passed maximum efficiency and had gone beyond. Now I was cold and wet and not having fun. How a sailboat operates and rides can be broken up into three categories. Too much sail, not enough sail, and just right. This determines how the boat will ride and how fast or slow you go. But most importantly it determines wither it is a calm, comfortable, safe ride, or a wet, bumpy, white knuckled, unsafe ride. The balance between sail, wind and waves is like asking a beautiful women to dance for the first time. It is a delicate thing to do, can be hard to achieve, and if you do not learn how she likes to dance, you won't be easy to dance with her again.

Classification intro #1

Sails on a sail boat are what drives the boat through the water. A sailboat wants to sail. It dosn't like the motor. It is what it is designed to do. How the boat rides can be broken up into three states of sailing. First is to much sail. Next, is not enough sail. And finally, is just the right amount of sail. Most sailboats have more that one sail and finding the balance between sail, wind, and waves determines how the boat operates. How much sail to have up, the wind velocity and sea state all determine wither you have a calm, comfortable trip or a wet and sloppy trip.

Cause Meta-graf

I was hoping my essay flowed a little better. I was trying to write it while watching my two year old. Lots of starting and stopping, up and down while trying to keep my daughter happy. She is a lot of work and needs to stay busy. I found that I had much more that I wanted to tell about. But it was too much and would have just made it confusing. I find that I can ramble on about most things, and I tried to stay focused and get my message across. I hope my point was made. In my mind it all makes sense, I just hope that it makes sense to the readers. My message was that even though things change they still stay the same. That how much technology has changed things in modern times. But, we are not that far removed from pine tar, oakum, and the old Jack Tar's way of sailing.

Cause 5 graf essay

Cause 5 graf essay

Slowly, I became aware that my jaw muscles were aching from grinding my teeth. The wind had been coming on from the South all day. I find that when the weather starts to build my mind becomes anxious about not knowing what is coming. That is why I was grinding my teeth. Sailing can truly put you in touch with Mother Nature. The feel of the wind gradually getting stronger on my face. I was receiving only the occasional mist of salt spray a short time ago, now it was coming over the side hard enough to make me duck. The smell of the salt air and decay of seaweed. The sound of the wind whistling in my ears combined with the growl of waves passing under the bow. It makes me think of sailors past, and how they must have felt plying these waters. I am sure that they felt exactly the same way I do.

When I was a child my father would take us out on the river and occasional out on the bay. We had power boats and typically went out fishing for mackerel on calm days. We would motor down the river and stop at the Port Clyde General Store where he would buy Wonder bread, bologna, and cream soda, too, as dad would say, “prepare lunch aboard.” Dad had spent four years in the Navy. His job had been more of a secretary than that of a sailor working behind a desk and not a helm. I do not think he was ever at sea. But you would think he was some sort of Admiral by the way he would order my brother and I around. He did have a basic knowledge of navigation and loved to teach what he knew to his sons. A father passing on his love for the water, just like his father had done. These were some of my first recollections of being on the water. The sun shining warm as I lay on the deck. The ocean, green, calm and slick looking, with only a gentle roll of some old sea swell. I would fall fast asleep in the warm sunshine, with the gentle rocking and a belly full of bologna sandwich and soda.

When I was introduced to sailing as teen it was through Outward Bound in the early 1990's. I had an adventurous side that matched well with sailing. I was outside, which I enjoyed, and was with like minded outdoorsy people. The sailing was in open boats call Pulling boats. They are made of wood, they were heavy, and built to be like the old Life boats the were on ocean going steam ships from the early part of the last century. There had two sails made of canvas and no pulleys or any sort of mechanical advantage to work them. They are called traditional boats. If there was no wind you rowed them with fourteen foot Ash oars called “Misery Sticks”. There were no electronics or creature comforts aside from a marine radio the was carried in an Igloo cooler along with the battery to run it. They called it “white knuckle” sailing. We were out in the elements all the time and you very much close to nature. There was nothing modern about these boats, in fact, the theory is, you were taught how to survive in these boats if your ship was sunk by a German U-boat. The theory originating in the 1930's when Outward Bound was started as a survival school. Make due with a minimal of equipment and a lot of knowledge. This was when traditional sailing ships were still common and still used to transport cargo and passengers.

In the future I gravitated towards these “traditional” boats. I got a job working as crew on a traditional wooden Schooner. This type of boat common on the coast of Maine and it is very unique in today’s world. It had no winches, all the sails were raised with block and tackle. You shortened sail by hand, had to know how to tie knots and had to understand the rigging. The Captain of the boat was also the owner and had grown up sailing on other traditional boats. He was glad to pass down all that he had learned over the years. He is a great teacher and mentor. The more I sailed with him the more I realized there was to know. Schooners once used in this part of the world to move cargo and people are still around. I found that there is a whole fleet of large traditional schooners along the coast. Some date back to 1871 and are still in service today only they are used to carry passengers instead of cargo. These boats are still operated that same way as when they were built. No motors, oil lamps, natural fibers to make the sails and rope, all the meals prepared on wooden cook stoves. It is like stepping back in time on these boats. On any given day sailing out on Penobscot Bay you can see ten or twelve boats over a hundred years old. This is the same scene that would have played out on the bay a when these boats were freshly built. I found that there was an amazing amount of history tied up on the dock next to me.

Now, I have sailed on modern boats, with all the latest, up to date technology. Satellite phones, GPS, chart-plotters, and radar. But what if you blow a fuse? You still have to know how to sail like it's a hundred and fifty years ago. That is how I am wired. I know how the old time sailors felt. I now the uncertainty of not knowing exactly what the weather is going to do. Not knowing exactly where I am, what time we will be home or if we will even make it back today. Not knowing if there are any other boats ahead of me in the fog. I have tasted the same salt spray, seen the same sail trim, felt the same ropes burn through my hands, as a sailor a century and a half ago. I can tell the name of a far off boat by the way its sails are rigged. I know how a wooden boat will “speak” to you. If you want to know what I mean, I will teach you. I learned what I know from a couple of old timers who were happy to share their knowledge. Knowledge that they got from some other old timer. I have had a taste of what is was like to sail in the old days, and I savor it.

cause outro

Now, I have sailed on modern boats, with all the latest, up to date technology. Satellite phones, GPS, chart-plotters, and radar. But what if you blow a fuse? You still have to know how to sail like it's a hundred and fifty years ago. That is how I am wired. I know how the old time sailors felt. I now the uncertainty of not knowing exactly what the weather is going to do. Not knowing exactly where I am, what time we will be home or if we will even make it back today. Not knowing if there are any other boats ahead of me in the fog. I have tasted the same salt spray, seen the same sail trim, felt the same ropes burn through my hands, as a sailor a century and a half ago. I can tell the name of a far off boat by the way its sails are rigged. I know how a wooden boat will “speak” to you. If you want to know what I mean, I will teach you. I learned what I know from a couple of old timers who were happy to share their knowledge. Knowledge that they got from some other old timer. I have had a taste of what is was like to sail in the old days, and I savor it.

Graf #8

“Falling in love” is very insightful and I was nicely surprised with the transition into what destroys a relationship. It makes me recall my youth and some of the things I did, that I now regret, and wonder what may have changed if the wisdom that comes with a little age had showed up a little earlier.

The Chicken dancer has significant meaning to me. My daughter has been the Chicken (really they are ducks) in the Nutcracker for two years running. She too has graduated to more glitzy costumes and I wonder how much longer dance lessons will last.

I remember a quote from a movie, but I cannot remember the movie. “The Sox bring loosing to a whole new level...” There is always next year. I truly enjoyed the visuals of this essay. It really hits home.

Molly sounds like quite the bonnie lass. Is this just a crush or is it something more. It would have been great to end with a date or a wink and a smile and some or something a little more... WOW. Although this is a story that sounds very real life. More fact than fiction, but that is how I think it was intended.

Do you suppose that fox some how, on a lower level, knew how much humans charish their cars? That might be where 'Sly like a Fox' came from.

Cause Graf #1+2

Into #1

Slowly, I became aware that my jaw muscles were aching from grinding my teeth. The wind had been coming on from the South all day. I find that when the weather starts to build my mind becomes anxious about what is coming. That is why I was grinding my teeth. Sailing can truly put you in touch with Mother Nature. The feel of the wind gradually getting stronger on my face. Receiving only the occasional mist of salt spray, now coming over the side hard enough to make you duck. The smell of the salt air and decay of seaweed. The sound of the wind whistling in my ears combined with the growl of waves passing under the bow. It makes me think of sailors past, and how they must have felt plying these waters. I am sure that they felt exactly the same way I do.

Intro #2

With the flick of a couple of switches, I can real-time weather updates, GPS location, and talk to people on land with the VHF radio fifteen miles away. Modern technology has taken some of the romance out of sailing. Years ago sailors had no idea what was just over the horizon. Now you still have cell service and can download e-mails from just over the horizon. Modern fiberglass boat can last for decades with virtually no maintenance, compared to traditional wooden boats that are perpetual maintenance. The one thing that is still the same now as it was one hundred and fifty years ago is...the feel of the salt on your skin, the press of the wind on your face, the pull of the sails and the lift of the sea.

I-search brainstorm

I-search Brainstorm

Topic;   Raising Backyard chickens

What I know.

I have four of them. They are entertaining to watch. They are stupid animals. It is hard to tell a male from a female when they are young. Some of mine are laying eggs but I don't know which ones. I am happy with just four right know. My family enjoy having them. I have Rhode Island Reds. It is cheap to buy chicks. They will eat most anything. People have kept them for hundreds of years in their back yards. They seem very utilitarian in that when they stop laying eggs you eat them. They are a very good conversation piece when friends visit.

What I do not know.

What kind of diseases do they get? How long will they live? What do they look like when whey are sick. How do you clean a chicken for cooking? Does there coop need to be insulated in the winter. How cold is too cold for them? What does a bad egg look like? How do I keep other critters from getting in the coop. How often do they lay an egg? If I let them out of the coop will they come back at night? How can I keep them from digging out of the coop. Can they get hitchhikers like fleas or ticks? How upset will my girls be when one is in the stew pot? Why one pair are colored so similar but different from the other pair? Does this have to do with sex? If I decide to grow more how do you time them out for the best production? Should I just buy more chicks or hatch them? How do I keep the coop from rotting from their waste? How much chicken shit to spread on the garden? Can I find this information in books or is it one of those things that only farmers know about? What do I need to plan on for the long term? Are they becoming pets?

Person Graf #7

Did you ever work with someone who just amazed you every time they spoke. Someone that when they started to speak, no matter what you were doing, you shut up just to pay attention. I worked with such a guy in my formative years and the lessons he taught me, I pass on today. His name was Charlie and he was an Assistant Chief for the fire department I was a member of at the time. He had started in the fire service in the early 70's and was gearing up for retirement. This guy knew everything. He was a great old school fireman, a carpenter, a mechanic, a comedian, and a very wise man. He got into the fire service after being an Army mechanic in Vietnam. That was back when there were much more fires than there are today. He had gained an unmeasurable amount of experience from seeing so much fire. He was like the guys you see in the movies, as your working your way into the fire he's coming out with no air-pack on and his coat wide open like it was no big deal. I was fortunate that he liked me and over time he stated to teach me little tricks here and there, and give me pointers about things to look for in a fire. These little things have become invaluable as my career has progressed and now I'm the old guy passing these tricks on to the younger guys.

Charlie was one of those guys that, if he couldn't fix it, it wasn't broken. I recall one time he had to replace a gauge in the cab of one of the fire engines. The new gauge didn't fit the hole that was left from the broken gauge in the dash. Once realizing this, Charlie stepped back, lit up a smoke, looked at the problem and contemplated for a couple of minutes. I sat there waiting to see what he was going to do. I though about trying to interject something to possibly help the situation but decided not to because I knew any useless little tid-bit I could add, would just distract him. After a couple of minutes, Charlie looks at me and says, “Kid.” (he called everybody Kid), “Kid go over and get that empty Coke can.” I did, and he took the can, looked at it closely, took off to the work bench and in a couple minutes was back with the bottom of the can cut out and the new gauge in it. This thing was a work of art. The gauge fit perfectly in the now cut out indent of the bottom of the can. The ring left by the rest of the can fit perfectly into the dash. It looked like it was factory installed. Charlie was one of those people that was naturally smart although never went past high school. One of those people that was extremely knowledgeable about many different things. He was a natural leader and people lined up to follow him. He was a great mentor to me and others in my generation, although he would never admit it.