Follow Up: Taking Responsibility

Everyone can make a difference. Even an 8 year old boy. Peter Horan probably doesn't fully grasp it, but a lot of good things are being done on his behalf this holiday season. 

In my last blog I touched on the events in Sandy Hook, Connecticut that claimed the lives of 20 innocent children. That post inspired a few amazing women to launch a project called "Books for Sandy Hook" and organize a drive to send copies of a special children's book entitled "A Terrible Thing Happened", which is designed to help children cope with traumatic experiences that they have witnessed, to the Sandy Hook area to help the families affected by this tragedy. The book can be purchased through the American Psychological Association here : http://www.apa.org/pubs/magination/4416428.aspx  or ordered by phone at 1 (800) 374-2721and shipped directly to this address:

94 Riveside Rd
Sandy Hook.Ct. 06482
Care of Sandy Hook Book Drive

The drive so far has been very successful, with more books pouring in every day, thanks to the incredible efforts of Kathleen Henry Hayes, Tom and Missy Horan, April Edinger Hamilton and Rick Heitman. What an excellent example to set for their children, nephews, and grand children as to how easy it can be to do a good thing, even when the worst is facing you.

Peter (Top) and Tommy. Peter goes to the elementary school where the shootings took place.

The Troop sent 5 copies of this book to help the drive on behalf of his father, who has been deeply affected by the events during his recovery. But the Troop made a pledge and by god he's going to keep it. That pledge was to do something good to honor each of the children lost in Sandy Hook, by donating 20 items to the Toys For Tots foundation. My gift to Peter, to help him in his healing from a tragic event. May I present to you the first imperial stuffed animal division, made up of two special units: Cuddly Owls and Slinky Bunnies.

These critters are sold at Kohl's as part of their "Kolh's Cares" initiative, with 100% of the net profit donated to support kids' health and education initiatives in communities nationwide. Since 2000, more than $208 million has been raised nationwide. The animals can be paired with books that are all $5, and make great holiday gifts with a great message to kids. They are super soft and very high quality as well. To learn more about them you can visit: http://www.kohlscorporation.com/communityrelations/community02.htm

Today was the last day to drop items for the Toys for Tots drives so I rolled the van down to the warehouse and was surprised to get a full tour by a wonderful young Marine. He informed me that their yield of donated toys this year had been spectacular (previous years had not been so fruitful) but that they had been shorthanded on workers to help sort their inventory. To sign up as a volunteer for Toys for Tots you can go to http://orlando-fl.toysfortots.org/local-coordinator-sites/lco-sites/Default.aspx.

Nothing can replace the lives of the children we lost this week, but I urge each and every one of you: turn off your TV. Get off the internet. Go out and do something good. Stop dwelling on the negativity, the blame placing, and the media blitz. If you want to help these people do it by putting something positive out into the world. That's what this season has always been about.

-TFTC

Taking Responsibility

A member of my family survived a tragedy yesterday.

    Not a blood relative, and maybe technically not a family member yet- but my Fiance's nephew, little Peter Horan, is a pretty special kid, along with his brother Tommy. They live with their mom and dad in the beautiful town of Sandy Hook, Connecticut. I visited them at their home for the first time this year at their family reunion, and I got to spend a lot of time with the boys, who are both very active, happy kids. They like to swim, play video games, explore nature, and run around like crazy- you know, the way kids do. They smile a lot, Peter with a wide, toothless grin. They are good kids, with good hearts, loving parents, and good heads on their shoulders, and I am sure their futures will be bright.
    But yesterday was not a bright day for them. Yesterday they faced a kind of evil that the world may never understand. The kind of evil that wears the face of a man and yet holds no humanity within itself.
    It's heartbreaking to think that these innocent children, along with so many others, had to endure the events that happened yesterday in Sandy Hook, a quaint little town with more cows than stop lights, rolling hills and covered bridges and old time general stores. It's a sobering reminder for all of us who have grown complacent, grown comfortable with the illusion that we are safe in our neighborhoods, in our schools, and in our homes. It's a sickening feeling to be brought face to face with the reality that one day can change our lives forever, and there is little to nothing we can do to prevent it.

    In the days after these events (and it seems it happen all too often) I find myself trying to put myself in these peoples shoes. I wonder what I would do if confronted with such a situation, how I would react if someone I knew and loved fell prey to one of these predators, what on earth would drive a person to do such a heinous, wasteful, purposeless thing as to take the life of someone they don't even know. It occurs to me that, sadly, these things happen every single day. We as a species have been our own sole natural predator for the better part of our existence on this planet, killing, defiling, and victimizing one another, sometimes for gain, sometimes for revenge, and also sometimes for seemingly no reason at all.
    I keep coming back to the same conclusion in my head each time I mull these things over: that our society is broken. That we have devolved back to the animals we were thousands of years ago, with no concern for others, and solely our own personal betterment in mind. Or maybe this whole civilization thing was a joke all along, a set of fake rules we made up to convince ourselves that we are better than what we really are- snarling, violent, and stupid animals, without any values, without any integrity, without any capacity for action and reasoning beyond our own selfish and pointless needs. It makes it difficult, sometimes, for me to understand why I do what I do with Troop For The Cure- what is the point of trying to help people, when people are just dogs that don't know better, don't want to know better, and will simply eat you when the time comes that they no longer have a use for you?

   But meeting people like Peter and Tommy have taught me better than that. Bright children that want to help, to do good, to see others smile- that have been raised with values and empathy and love for one another- that is the answer. It's easy to get bogged down in the bad things that humans do to each other, it takes a closer look to see the good side of humanity. And maybe therein lies the flaw- we tend to focus on the bad things that happen to us, to mull over our personal problems and get bogged down in affairs that in the grand scheme of things really don't matter. I can't pretend to know or understand what problems faced Adam Lanza, but I can say without a doubt they did not get any better today, and whatever they were they were not worth the lives of 20 innocent children and 8 adults.

    In the slew of the media onslaught, of the pushing of political agendas, of the heartless and callous quips you may see or hear on the internet or on the radio or in passing conversation, I urge you to remember this: You alone have a choice in life to dictate whether your actions are for the betterment or decline of our society. What will you champion in this life? What will your priorities be? Are these things you fret over every day worth it? What in life can hold more joy or satisfaction for you than the love and understanding of a another human being? Make hope a goal in your life. Make happiness a priority. Make helping others a standard by which you measure yourself. Break down the walls that society has built to separate us as people and search for common ground among your fellow man. Appreciate what you have and cherish the ones you love, and make it known to them just how important they are to you.

Tomorrow I will remember the 20 children who were needlessly taken from us by purchasing 20 items to donate to the Toys For Tots Charity. Maybe this seems insignificant. After all, how can a toy compare to the loss of a unique and beautiful life? Obviously it can't. But I'll choose to honor them by doing something good- by doing something instead of nothing- because sometimes it's the little things in life that make a difference.

There will always be evil in this world, and bad things will always happen. It is our responsibility to our children, to our fellow man, to make sure that good things happen, too.

http://www.toysfortots.org/

-TFTC

**UPDATE**

My future Mother-In-Law stepped up to the plate and is making a difference. She's partnered with her daughters, one of which was a therapist who specialized in abused children, and organized a drive to send copies of a special children's book entitled "A Terrible Thing Happened", which is designed to help children cope with traumatic experiences that they have witnessed, to the Sandy Hook are to help the families affected by this tragedy. The book can be purchased through the American Psychological Association here : http://www.apa.org/pubs/magination/4416428.aspx  or ordered by phone at 1 (800) 374-2721and shipped directly to this address:

94 Riveside Rd
Sandy Hook.Ct. 06482
Care of Sandy Hook Book Drive

The Troop has ordered 5 copies to be sent on behalf of My Dad, who has been deeply affected by this tragedy as he watched it unfold during his recovery. I have always felt that helping others and feeling productive is a very important part of the healing process- it empowers us and removes the victim status from our shoulders. Give someone the gift of empowerment, and the gift of empowering their children.

Mission Accomplished

It's been a process.
It started with a dream, and through the kindness of the most amazing woman I have ever met it became a possibility. It was a project, and through the crushing adversity of a family member it became a mission. It was a hobby, and through the dedication and inspiration of some incredible men and women it became a new way of life.
I'll be the first to admit I had my moments of doubt... but it was all worth it. Whether is was the sparkle of hope in a sick child's eyes, the support and encouragement of my friends, the soothing words of my ever loving (and ever patient) girlfriend, or the cold, dark, glossy glare of the Dark Lord- the fire never went out.

When this is your boss, you don't get lazy.

Thanks are in order.

A HUGE thanks to Timothy Boyle for all of his help (and putting me up... and putting up with me... and all the laughs and Muppet xmas carols) and also "Mom" and "Dad" for all their hospitality. I am in your debt, and I won't forget the kindness and patience you have shown me in the last few months. You guys are the best. Also thanks to Troy Gentry, who was instrumental not only in the construction of my armor but in integrating me into the group, as well as Paul Button and Rick Russo and family. You guys made my first experiences with the legion positive and memorable... and hilarious.

Thanks to my family and friends, who have supported me all along and my bosses and co-workers for putting up with my time off requests and constant ranting about plastic weld and ABS.

Thanks to the incredible Whitney Hayes for all the patience, all the encouragement, and all the love. You've made my dreams come true, in every way imaginable.

Thanks to my Dad, for fighting hard and being there to get the call. 

I'm In. I did it. And it's all thanks to all of you.

Hail to the Empire

TK-66613

Troop For The Cure

Thanksgiving

It's been a tough few weeks for a retail veteran like myself, busy with preparing for the coming sales onslaught that is the weekend after thanksgiving and frankly the entire month of December. It's been a struggle (more so than it already is) to balance my many duties and priorities between work, the troop, family, and friends. Add to this the difficult situation of my fathers illness and you've got a level of stress that only a Jedi could survive without force choking someone to death.


I've tried to make a concious effort this holiday season to keep at the forefront of my mind what really matters to me: taking the time to see and care for my father. Advancing the Troop for the cure cause. Showing my friends and family just how much I appreciate them. So to keep true to that I've prepared a list of things I am thankful for.

I am thankful to the ever helpful and ever vigilant troops of the 501st, who have given my life new purpose this year. You have shown me the power of the human spirit and moved me beyond words. I am especially thankful to Tim Boyle and Troy Gentry for their limitless patience and diligence in helping me build my armor. I barely know you guys but you have accepted me and treated me only as true friends would.

I am thankful for my co-workers, the most talented group of misfits I have had the pleasure of working with. Whether its making burgers or hocking t-shirts, you see it on the front lines every day, and without your humor, support, and co-miseration I could not do what I do.

I am thankful for my wonderful girlfriend Whitney. She sees it all. She is the one who has to pick up what's left when I am spent, physically and emotionally. She is the one that has to watch me go out the door tired and sick and come home destroyed. She is the one who brings me back from the edge,  who makes me laugh when the world seems like a hopeless place. She is the light of my life and without her none of this would be possible. I love you Whitney.

Lastly I am thankful for my family. For my Mom's tireless efforts to keep the ship afloat. For my brother for being there for them when I can't and backing them up the whole way. And for my dad for hanging in there for all of us.

-TFTC

Hairy Situation

My Dad has always been jealous of my hair.

He's probably laughing while reading this. But it's true. He has always commented on how I had my Great-Grandfathers hair, dark, wavy, and incredibly thick. He's also always mentioned that my Great Granddad also died with a full head of hair, which might seem inconsequential to some people. People who have a full head of hair.

Laugh it up, fuzzball.

 Now my Dad's not spear bald. He's thinning on top. He wears it well. I think it gives him an air of wisdom and experience. But I'm sure it has not escaped him that my hair hasn't even hinted at starting to thin out. He's also brought up on more than one occasion that I seem to be mocking him with my hair. You see, I wear my hair in a Mohawk, where as he's thinning on top. He's joked a few times that I cut it that way just to prove I have hair where he doesn't. 

Well, at least I think he was joking.

My hair has been a center of focus since my high school days, when I used to wear it in gigantic conical liberty spikes.  I had it pretty well down to a science, making sure all the spikes were set at certain angles and whipping it up with a cocktail of hairgel (for hardness) and hairspray (for hold). It was a lot of fun, but extremely high maintenance. In my college days I opted for a more permanent, less maintenance hairstyle and lost the sides. The result was a Cliff Burton / Mike Patton style long Mohawk that I usually wore down and as long as I could grow it. It was extremely handy for my metal band Empyrean, and I had a good time whipping it around, wetting it down with water and soaking the front row, doing windmills, and occasionally getting it caught in guitar tuning knobs or swallowing it and having to pull it out of my throat while singing.

Epic. Metal. Hair.

It's a common side effect of chemotherapy to experience hair loss  and well, today was the day Dad got his head shaved. He would probably never admit it but I know he's been dreading it. So today I leveled the playing field for him and did the deed. 

My magical metal mohawk of mayhem is going in the mail and headed to Locks For Love, so it can be sewn into a wig for children undergoing chemotherapy treatments just like my Dad. I hope he can take comfort in the fact that some kids day just got a little bit more comfortable, and it's all because of him. 

If you would like to donate hair to Locks of Love, you can follow this link for instructions and to find out more about what they do: http://www.locksoflove.org/donate.html

-TFTC

Ups and Downs

This was a strange week.

My Dad entered the Hospital on Monday and got his high-dosage chemo treatment, followed on Wednesday by his stem cell transplant. Out of an abundance of caution due to illness in my vicinity and his diminished immune system, I couldn't see him this week until I finally got a chance to visit on Thursday when I was sure I was not sick.
Tuesday night was a bad night for him, as he was struggling with nausea from the intense chemotherapy. I texted him some words of encouragement and thanked him for going through all of this, because I know he's primarily doing it for us. This was his response:

"Thank you for your kind words. You, Mom, and Mike have certainly enriched my life far beyond anything I could have imagined. The kindness, love, and concern you have given me are a great source of strength. I am very proud that she and I have raised two young men who are very intelligent and talented. But I am most proud that we helped instill love, compassion, and strength in you that make you the men you've become. Always remember that when things look hopeless that you are blessed with the intellect, strength  and support to overcome and actually grow wiser. I love you, Dad."

If only this conversation had gone so well.

I finally got to see my Dad on Thursday, the day after his new birthday (to see what I'm talking about read my post "Happy Birthday Dad") and he seemed to be doing well, despite his continued nausea. His moral was very high and he was comfortable. We talked for about an hour and I updated him on what was going on in my life and he did the same. It was good so see him doing well. I gave him a bumper sticker for the link to this blog and headed home. Before I got there he called me to thank me for everything I had done.

I explained to him that this was really all of his doing- that the will to do what it takes to make the world better, even just a little bit, was a value he had instilled in me, a value he had exemplified throughout his life as my father and my role model. That all of this was being done so that he could know that if and when he left this world we would still be here, doing good in his name. And then I reminded him that his life wasn't over yet, and I looked forward to spending the rest of it making him proud.


Dad's condition seems to be holding strong, mine however has not. I am prone to nasal and throat infections, especially around the holidays, and for those of you not in the retail profession, yes we are in the holidays.
This is especially disheartening as it means there is no way I can see my father until I have completely recovered.It doesn't however preclude me from doing other things, so I chose to spend my Saturday working on the armor. I got up early (at my girlfriends insistence) and got down to cutting and welding. In the middle of this process I was interrupted by Kelly, my Mom's next door neighbor, with the terrible news that her Husband had passed in the night.

Richard Lilly was a good man, husband and father, who has been struggling with cancer almost as long as I have known him. Before Troop For The Cure ever existed my brother Michael and I had leveraged our fan base from our band Empyrean to help us locate O- blood donors to help him with a much needed transfusion, and this event was one of the stepping stones that has directed me down this path.We are all very saddened to see him go.

On a plus side for the day, I completed my armor enough to make a surprise visit to the Birthday Party for Victor Shea, son of my good friends Melanie and Steven Shea. Steven's father also passed away a few years back from cancer, and his efforts in raising money for the cause have also been inspirational to me to do this project. Steven has been a good friend and very supportive through all this with helpful insight and generous donation, and It made me happy do be able to do something special for him in return.

Plus his Kid is frigging adorable.

I think one of the most beautiful things about the 501st is it's ability to inspire people. It touches me at my most innocent of places, reaches back into the simplest, happy times in my life, and tells me to do better- to be better than I am and make the world a better place, through volunteerism, through charity, and one smile at a time. Those smiles become very important for people who are stricken with these illnesses, and for the people around them as well, because happiness even at is simplest is infectious and distracting. After all, what is the point of all this work to prolong life if you don't get those simple moments of enjoyment out of it?

-TFTC
TK- 75%

Happy Birthday Dad!

This Halloween is my fathers birthday.

Not his original birthday, mind you. It's his new birthday.

For the record, droids don't eat cake. But they can bake them!

I'm sure you're confused, because I was at first. Before I go on, let me preface my explanation with a description of the process in which my father's multiple myeloma is being treated, taken from the American Cancer Society's website:

"Autologous stem cell transplant:
This type of transplant uses the patient's own blood-forming stem cells. These transplants are fairly safe and have a low risk of serious complications. To collect the patient's stem cells, often the drug cyclophosphamide and a white blood cell stimulating drug are given. Then blood-forming stem cells are removed from the patient's blood by a process called leukapheresis. In this process, blood is removed from the patient or donor, the stem cells are separated by a machine, and then the blood is returned to the patient. In some patients, the stem cells come from their bone marrow.
The stem cells are preserved by being frozen while the patient receives high-dose chemotherapy. This chemotherapy destroys almost all the cells in the patient's bone marrow. This includes the blood-forming stem cells as well as plasma cells. After the chemo, the frozen stem cells are given back to the patient. Stem cells are given IV (in a vein) like a blood transfusion. They travel to the bone marrow and start to grow and make new blood cells."

Pretty neat, right? It's still an experimental process, but it seems to be getting good results. It is however not without it's risks. You see, when you are given this high-dose chemotherapy, it doesn't just kill the cancer cells- it kills a lot of other things too, like stomach microbes that aid in digestion, and most notably, it kills your immune system. This can be problematic because you are basically of the same fragility as a newborn baby, susceptible to illness and infection that normal adults have built up an immunity too. It's like setting back the clock of your bio-chemistry to day one and re-building your immunities all over again.

In the business they call this your new birthday.

The family has some great plans lined up for my Dad's new Birthday. My brother has made him a special surprise. My Momgot him a giant walking skeleton balloon for Halloween.

I'm giving him a bumper sticker with a link to this blog.

Shameless plug warning: Buy one!

A few weeks back I finally made the trek up to Ocala to go to the Makaze squad Armor party. I was very excited to meet the garrison and make some new friends that were as big of nerds as I was about Star Wars. But mostly I was excited to get my armor done. I rolled up around 7:30 after a long day at work with my gear packed into cases and my tools in a big black tool box. I didn't need them. The place was fully equipped and decked out with every tool imaginable, food, huge work spaces, and Star Wars memorabilia that would make any fan boy teary-eyed. (It was less of an armor party and more of an armor factory!) I got the tour and made the rounds meeting the guys (and gals) and found out that I was late- like 12 hours late. Evidently these things start early in the morning and go very late into the evening. After a while chatting I went out to my van and grabbed my kit so the troops could look it over.

At first I think they were impressed by how far I'd gotten, which made me feel good because I was anxious to get going "trooping for the cure". I had heard stories about what these guys could do, and was told that sometimes they could put together whole kits in one day and get submissions in for 501st approval that night. But as they looked closer at my handy-work (all 4 months worth of it), they started to notice flaws in the construction. First it was little things, like replacing a few strips here and there. Then it was bigger things, like trimming out parts, re-doing entire sections of the armor. The resident TK expert, Tim, pulled me aside and said to me (with a great deal of concern on his face):

"I have a lot of respect for the work and the money that people put into their kits. That being said, I think your best bet here is going to be taking this thing apart and starting over."

Yeah. I was pretty crushed. Not only had I spent the last few months working feverishly to get this thing done, but I had sunk a lot of money into it as well. In addition I had constructed the armor with a plastic-weld adhesive that is extremely difficult to undo (you know, because it welds plastic). I understood what a nightmare it was going to be to take the thing apart, and realized in that moment that the armor wasn't going to get done that day, and wasn't going to get done for a very, very long time. Working as I do in the retail world (and with a second job to boot) the time from the end of October until late January doesn't hold a lot of free time to work on projects of this magnitude. I would be lucky to get the suit done before march if I was lucky.

All those thought ran through my head in the few seconds after Tim had dropped the bomb on me. I looked at him and said, "cool, let's do it". And then I picked up a screwdriver and started pulling the armor apart.

I spent the rest of the evening going back and forth between working on the armor and talking about heavy metal with a few of the guys (most notably Troy, Paul, Rick, and another Paul) who were all nice enough to help me out. They gave me lots of great pointers on how to put my kit together better, and showed me how to use a lot of tools that would hopefully make my life a lot easier. All in all it was a great time and everyone I met was a pretty amazing person with a hundred great stories to tell.

I didn't take pictures. I'm sure they like it better that way.

It would have been very easy for me to get mad at that party. It would have been very easy for me to walk away from that armor and quit on the spot. But my dad taught me better than that.

I guess the point to this entry is that I haven't accomplished as much as I would have liked to since I started this blog. In my mind I feel like I've failed, kind of like I've been masquerading as something I haven't become yet. I wish I could have gotten the armor done in time to wear it to see my Dad in the hospital. To present this whole thing to him in the grandest form possible. But we make the time for what is most important to us, and the last few months have been full ones. I'm glad I went to the mountains with my Dad so we could spend a week away from the bustle and grind of work. I'm glad we got to take one more fishing trip to the beach. I'm glad I could help in some small way little Lyric Strub with his brain surgery, and pull in a few extra shifts to donate to that cause.

My Dad started his high-dosage chemotherapy tonight. Tomorrow he will rest and on Halloween, his favorite holiday, he will receive the stem cell transplant. He will be born again. And after that he will read the words on this page and I hope more than anything it will bring him some happiness in his darkest hour. I hope he can smile and know that he's a hero to so many people, including his son.

-TFTC

Charity Dollars Raised:          $1,842.00

TK completion:                        20%

Turning to the Dark Side

Halloween had always been my Dad's favorite holiday, and mine as well. There's something spectacular about dressing up as someone else. Something sinister and dark. Taking on a new persona and masquerading up and down the block in flocks of other masked marauders, ransacking the neighborhood in a gleeful assault on reality and the mundane. It's a joy thats followed me (and my father) well into adulthood, as exemplified in my journey into the 501st.

There is an allure in evil that cannot be ignored. It's a common point of discussion among members of the 501st and the people that follow their organization- why are a bunch of guys dressed up as bad guys out there doing charity work? There are all kinds of answers that you could come up with- the costumes are more recognizable, there is an abundance of source material,  there is a an obvious organization to their ranks- but lets face it, the real answer is obvious:

The bad guys are just cooler.

My background in the heavy metal scene may betray my tendencies toward dark subject matter, but I think it's an opinion that is pretty prevalent among the legions members. When you go to buy a lunchbox or a t-shirt from the Star Wars franchise, nine times out of ten it's going to have Darth Vader or Boba Fett on it. Why? Because these guys are freaking awesome. Who wants a t-shirt with Luke whining about how it's too hard to lift his X-wing out of the swamp? No one! You want that one that has Darth Vader crushing some insolent officer to death with his thumb and index finger for making his coffee wrong!

I feel like it's a simple matter of the way human beings are wired. We have these latent anti-social tendencies that are screaming to get out. We satisfy them by watching these fantasy characters duke it out in a no-holds-barred, take-no-crap world. But deep down on the inside, that's not who we are. Just as a superficial facade of pleasantness may mask an underlying desire for world (or galactic) domination, further below that lies the common thread of compassion that is the unification of all peoples. This is a theme at the heart of the Star Wars universe. Luke refuses to destroy Vader because he knows this fact- that underneath the most fearsome man in the galaxy still lies the good man that is his father.  Despite his adversities, despite his losses, and despite his flaws, his temptations, his seduction and descent into darkness, Vader makes the choice to change- to do what he knows in his heart is right. Vader's salvation becomes the salvation of the whole universe.

Doesn't that make him the real hero?

One of the things that has struck me about the 501st legion is this specific example of human nature. Here are a couple of thousand men and women obsessed with the galaxy's most fearsome and loathsome villains congregating together with a common desire to make the world a better place. How does it make sense that we can rally equally behind the causes of fighting childhood illness and crushing the rebellion? It's a perplexing conundrum, however, this dichotomy may be less unique than you might have thought.

I met a young woman years ago through my workplace by the name of Cristabell who works with an organization called "Scares That Care". Through a variety of fund raising activities (from online auctions of autographed horror memorabilia to their very own "Scares That Care" Horror convention slated for 2014) Scares That Care has united Horror fans from across the country in a push to help those in need.  What follows is her explanation of what exactly this organization is all about:

How did you get involved with scares that care?
Facebook. As silly as that sounds. I saw a friend had shared one of their pictures on Facebook.(I don't even remember what the picture was, but it had to have been cool.) I clicked on the picture, which led me to their page. Once I saw that, there was no way that I wasn't going to get involved. Monsters and helping sick kids? Sold.

What does the organization do?
"Scares That Care!" is a IRS approved 501(c)(3) all volunteer charity (which means no one draws paychecks. Every penny goes straight to the families.) dedicated to uniting horror fans to help sick kids, and women fighting Breast Cancer. Our goal this year is to raise $10,000 each for three families in need. In June we were able to present a check for $10,000 to a little boy with a severe heart defect named Draven. We're now working toward being able to present checks to our other two families.You can keep up with all of the families that we help on Facebook, or at www.scaresthatcare.org

What is it exactly that you do for a living?
I work for an Orlando based non profit teaching functional communication and safety skills to developmentally delayed adults in a community setting.

What are some personal achievements of note/ special moments you have had in the organization?
Our founder, Joe Ripple, posted a video of the check presentation to Draven and his family for all of the state representatives and department heads that were obviously not all able to be there. I sat on my couch, with my own family watching this video, seeing what everyone's hard work had been able to accomplish. I saw the relief on the faces of Draven's parents, and the smile on that kid's face. Draven's a little guy, so I can't really say to what extent he understood what was going on. Maybe he was just stoked to have a bunch of new friends. The entirety of it hit me when my own son handed me a tissue to blow my nose. He is seeing what a huge difference everyone is capable of making, and I hope he follows suit.

What are the organizations greatest accomplishments?
Before we obtained our own IRS designation of becoming a 501(c)(3) charity, we were able to donate $10,000 to each of the following Organizations; Johns Hopkins Children's Cancer Center, The Kennedy-Krieger Institute (They help kids with Brain and Spinal Cord injuries, and help kids with Autisim and Down Syndrome acclimate into society), and the "Make-A-Wish" Foundation. We're also really excited that this year we've spread to 34 states across the country, and we're still growing.

Orlando folks can check out the Scares That Care booth at this weekend's Spook Empire Horror Weekend and meet Crista in person.

**UPDATE**

Hey guys just wanted to Add a photo from this year's Spooky Empire convention, and let you all know that on Halloween day you should check out their trick-or-treat $5.00 donation day event here: http://www.facebook.com/events/103534043126163/

Happy Halloween!

Hope For Lyric

I was contacted today by a friend with a friend in need. Her son is in need of drastic surgery to ensure his survival. What follows is a letter written by his mother, Kyli, who as you will read seems to have a heart as big as the problem she is facing:

"To all the wonderful people out there, My name is Kyli. My son's name is Lyric. He is 6 yrs. old. At only 10 hours old, Lyric had his first seizure in my arms as I was trying to feed him. He has continued having seizures ever since, and every seizure has continued to damage his brain. Lyric has dead areas in his brain that can never be fixed. Those dead areas have been caused from the lack of oxygen to his brain for long periods of time, which resulted in him being mentally disabled, speech disabled and his gross motor skills are also affected. He also has DeWayne's Syndrome in his eyes, So he wears glasses to keep his eyes from crossing. Surgery for his eyes is being discussed at this point to correct this. Lyric's last seizure was 6 months ago, but it has added an excess amount of fluid on his brain and enlarged ventricals. Lyric now must face brain surgery to insert a Shunt, which will control those amounts of fluid, to drain into his stomach to pass as waste. This procedure is far more risky, due to his epilepsy. (This surgery is very, VERY dangerous for him) Due to all the doctor's appointments, and school activities I attend, as well as the calls from his school to come check Lyric out for whatever time being... in concern for his health, I haven't been able to maintain a stable job appropriate for Lyric's needs that will hire me... No one wants to hire me because of how much I have to dedicate myself to Lyric! I do struggle financially due to this lack of work. I don't have much to offer, but I offer everything I have. I'm not the only person hurting in this world, so I believe that it is still my job as a mother... to help others in need as much as I can! Lyric's father has not helped me support him, and is a random person in his life. I don't ask for child support because i feel that is something a father should want to do themselves, not be forced! As well as.. Neglect issues when I did try.

Lyric is such a love bug.. he smiles all the time, and has touched everyone he has had contact with! I know that Lyric's condition is by far, not the worse that some people experience! So, I donate clothes to school's, food to help the children that don't have the food to eat meals appropriately.. etc. Lyric has taught me everything in life... And he doesn't even know it! Everything he goes through.. all the needles and doctors.. he's scared of most everything! It breaks my heart! Everyday pleasures we have.. with a normal mentality.. and we take so much for granted! He faces life.. along with a million other children.. appreciating the things in life that we take for granted! There will never be words to express the love Lyric and I hold to the people whom have helped us.. regardless of what it is.. Every single thing makes a difference! This world is missing "LOVE," and this may touch some, and may not touch other's! But every person that is moved by any story... Is helping this world! I hope Lyric's story can touch the many... God Bless!"

Troop for the cure will be donating funds raised to help Lyric and his mother through this hard time. We will be holding a fund raiser based out of Oblivion Taproom similar to the one held by Empyrean for the Griffin Ulfhamr fund, but this time will be selling Troop For The Cure shirts and stickers as well as leftover Empyrean CD's and some shirts. If you would like to make an online donation please send it to the following Paypal account and NOT the Troop For The Cure webstore, as I am having technical difficulties with Paypal at the moment. Feel free to e-mail me about online donations of $5 or more Here with your home address and I will send you a sticker!

Donate to Help Lyric Here:

:https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_donations&business=S9NZNXPKJS9TU&lc=US&item_name=Lyric%27s+Fund&item_number=Donate+For+Lyric&currency_code=USD&bn=PP-DonationsBF%3Abtn_donateCC_LG.gif%3ANonHosted


**UPDATE**

Thanks to your help Troop For The Cure donated over $500 to help Lyric! His surgery was a success but he is still in recovery. Please keep him in your thoughts.

Old Friends

This week has been a long one.

For a while now I've been feeling distant. Like I was observing the world from outside a bubble, like a child holding a snow globe. I watch as it swirls and sways in front of my eyes, but I am outside of that world, and it's warmth, it's flurry, and it's inhabitants can't touch me. I am consumed by the goings on inside that perplexing, chaotic place- but I am isolated from it. I can twist its turnings, clumsily, and try to affect the outcome of the events inside... but I am limited in my actions, and those events will play out as they see fit.

Well it seems like a good portion of that feeling may have stemmed from the oncoming of an epic head cold. I've spent the better part of this week sniffing, coughing, and sweating in intermittent fits of delirious ramblings. I managed to get to a doctors office and beg one day off from work, but two jobs and bills to pay are seldom a forgiving master. The worst part of it, though, was this feeling that I had been rendered useless. No work on the armor. No work in the kitchen at Oblivion. No forward motion for TFTC. Not getting to visit my Dad. Sitting in my apartment staring at the wall, wasting 3 days of my life.

As a fever often does, it brought with it dreams. Strange dreams that don't make sense, frightening dreams that wake you with a start in a cold sweat. And one dream of an old friend in need.

I met Aaron through work, he was a manager at Hot Topic and in a Psycho-billy band called "Twisted in Graves". We played some shows together and hung out a few times. Aaron Is the kind of guy that is impossible to hate-- I once remember him describing a mutual friend of ours, and Aaron said: "If I ever met a someone that said he didn't like that guy, I'd have to punch him in the face". Well, Aaron might as well have been describing himself. He was always the life of the party. Aaron would burst out in song out of nowhere, singing at the top of his lungs. He was the kind of guy that every girl wanted to date and every guy wanted to be.

Halloween 2006. Yes, we are ALL dressed as zombies with mohawks.

Aaron had the profound misfortune of sustaining a traumatic brain injury in a car crash in 2007. He was in a coma for so long I can't even remember when he came out of it. After the accident I visited him a couple times in the hospital (which was crowded beyond belief with his friends and family). It always struck me as wrong that this person, who had meant so much to so many, who had been full of so much energy and life should be stuck there. Stuck in that place between life and death.

One night after the accident I had a dream. In the dream I was walking through a desert. The sun shone hot and hard, and the sand was sharp. The wind was hot and blew dust in your eyes. It was almost impossible to walk. I saw a shadow in the distance, and made my way toward it for what seemed like hours. As I got closer to that shadow I realized it was Aaron. I called out to him and he looked back for a second, but kept walking in that same direction. I couldn't catch up to him. I ran as fast as I could but he was just too far ahead of me. I called out his name again, and he looked back and smiled that wide, closed mouth grin he had always made- the kind you make when someone tells a dirty joke. He waved goodbye and kept on walking in that desert.

That dream has stuck with me all these years. My band even wrote a song about it back in the day, called "Firewalker". We used to dedicate it to Aaron and other friends of ours who had fallen ill or passed on. It became a tradition we performed in our friends honor, so he would know we never forgot about him.

After many months in the Hospital Aaron's family decided it would be best for him to come back to Panama City with them so they could take good care of him. His condition improved, and he woke up- but his motor skills had been badly damaged. I saw Aaron a few times when his family would bring him down to visit, but other than that I stopped hearing about him. I knew only that his condition, while improving, was doing so at a very slow rate, and that his recovery would be a long and difficult process.

A few days back I had another dream. This time I was sitting in a dusty bar with Aaron's old band mates. We were discussing "the good old days" when all of a sudden the door swung open and in walked Aaron all Clint-Eastwood-Style. He walked over to where we were sitting, a weird sort of jerk in his step. He pulled up a chair and had a seat and we all said hello and patted him on the back- the way old friends would. Arron smiled a crooked smile, but didn't say anything- just looked at us and smiled.

Clint-Eastwood-style.

When I woke up, I knew it had to mean something. I hadn't dreamt of Aaron since that night almost five years ago, and here he is, just walking back in from some dusty desert into my subconscious. When I woke from that first dream I felt like I had failed, like if I had tried harder I could have pulled Aaron out of that awful place and brought him back. Or that I could have traded places with him. Or something. Or anything.

I got wind of a message going around on Facebook that Aaron needed some help. I'll let you read the message for yourself:

"If you're seeing this you're probably already aware that Aaron suffered a traumatic brain injury in a 2007 car accident. While he's made some incredible strides in his ongoing recovery he still needs regular intensive therapy to help him continue moving forward.

Recently his physical therapist suggested we try to purchase a Functional Electrical Stimulation cycle. There are so many benefits this equipment can provide. It will help reduce the tone that keeps him from moving some parts of his body freely. The machine will help build muscle that will help him walk again, as well as improving his circulation, breathing and cognition.

The RT300 works by placing electrodes on his thighs, calves and upper extremities and stimulating those muscles to work. As he pedals he'll get a good cardio workout and reduce tone in those muscles. This is very different from passive therapies. HIS muscles will be doing the work, not the therapist.

Unfortunately the RT 300 is quite expensive. The basic cost is more than $21,500. The cost of running this fundraiser is an additional 7%.

We have lots of long range goals for Aaron's ultimate recovery, but our first goal is to get him up and walking again someday soon. We believe the RT300 can be key to achieving this goal. Please help out if you can, and if you can't, that's okay, too.

Thanks in advance,

Gary, Marabeth, Phillip, Kristen and Aaron Nichols"

Now I'm a philanthropist and all, but $21,500 is a lot of money. My most recent fund raiser had only raised $850, and that was with a lot of left over Empyrean band merchandise that I no longer had. I pulled out the electronic drum set I had bought for my short-lived stint in Ludovico Technique (my temporary home between Empyrean and TFTC) and threw that sucker on Craig's list. Today it sold for $500 and today that $500 went to help Aaron Nichols. It's not enough, but it's something. 

Any donations of any amount are accepted and appreciated. If you love punk rock, rock and roll, comic books, or just plain being a goof and making people laugh, help a brother out. Because a friend in need, is a friend indeed. 

If you would like to contribute to Aaron's recovery you can visit his page here: http://www.giveforward.com/aaronnichols

-TFTC

TK: 90%

The Meaning of Honor

My father has no idea this is happening.

  He's not the kind of man who asks for help. He's the kind of man who defines his worth by his usefulness, productivity, and his ability to affect those around him in a positive way. He's kind of stubborn to that end, but it's a flaw easily forgiven when taken in context.

I on the other hand, am totally not stubborn. At all.

  My father has been presented with a very difficult decision in regards to his treatment for multiple myeloma. This particular type of cancer "occurs when one type of white blood cell, a plasma cell, reproduces without stopping and causes damage to other organs. In most patients, myeloma is found in more than one location and is called multiple myeloma. Normally these cells would create a wide variety of antibodies to support our immune system; instead the cancerous plasma cells take up more and more room in the bone marrow cavity, which leaves less and less room for normal marrow cells"(www.mmore.org). One method of treatment to this is a removal of the bone marrow and replacement with stem cells. These stem cells then grow new bone marrow which sets back the stages of the cancer significantly but does not cure the cancer.
  This treatment is revolutionary and still in an experimental phase. One of the side affects of this type of treatment is that it also sets back the patients immune system completely. This means that you have no immune system to fight off infections and disease, and also make you susceptible to any disease you have been previously immunized against. Think of a new born baby, or someone afflicted with the AIDS virus. This kind of sensitivity precludes my father from being able to do a lot of things; like going outside, eating fresh fruits and vegetables or any kind of shellfish, interacting with animals (such as his two dogs who he loves more than anything)- it also means he will be bed ridden for a number of weeks, and of course very very ill. The time it takes to recover is not certain, but estimated at about three and a half months and possibly up to a year.

How could you not love them? They're Stormtrooper colored.

  Any of these things would be disheartening to hear for a normal person. But like I said previously my father is not your normal person. What is really killing him is that he will not be able to work, to provide income for his family and be a productive member of society. Now make no mistake, my father is into his 60's at this point and all his children are grown and gone- he really has no need to concern himself with providing for us. But that's not the kind of man he is. My Dad has always done more than he needed to, gone the extra mile to make sure everyone was safe and comfortable and happy, and in his mind not being able to make sure of those things is the most crushing blow of all.
  The stem cell treatment could buy my father another 2-3 years of life. There is a chance that in those 2-3 years there could be further scientific developments in the treatment of  multiple myleoma that could cure him or buy him more time in the future. The other option for him would be to simply continue his chemotherapy treatment, which would also slow the cancer down but would only buy him another 2 years. But it's another two years at his current level of productivity, and that to him is inticing.
  It's a tough decision for him. I ate lunch with him and my brother the other day, and he asked us our opinion on the decision. What do you tell someone who is asking your opinion on what they should do in that situation? How do you have an opinion on how long someone you love should live or die, what kind of physical and emotional pain they should have to endure? I responded the only way I could. I told him that the decision was his to make, and whatever he chose I would be supportive of it in every way possible. I also advised him to make the decision as selfishly as possible, because my father has done more for me and his family than any man ever needed to.

My mom and Dad, 30 years of love.

   I would like to clarify that the Troop For The Cure movement is not a plea for assistance. I am not raising money in a last ditch attempt to save my fathers life. My Dad has excellent insurance and can take care of any medical bills beyond that. He is in the hands of great doctors and a loving family who support him and are there to help at any given moment. This movement is meant to carry on the giving and generous character of a man who has lived his life in the service of others, who has worked hard and long hours, who has volunteered in the community, who has never turned his back on someone truly in need, and has raised his children in the tradition of that character.
  As I said in the beginning, my Dad doesn't know any of this is happening. It's a surprise. It's waiting for that special moment, that dark day when he's at his worst. When he questions himself, when he is about to give up hope. It's the kind of gift you give a man who wants for nothing but the happiness and safety of the people he loves and those who cannot take care of themselves. It's a legacy of kindness, fortitude, and integrity that he has left behind. It's a gift to the man who taught me the meaning of honor.

He suspects nothing. 

  It's been about a week since my first blog and it has been a busy one. In addition to continuing construction of the armor I have set up a Facebook page you can add to make it simpler to follow out progress (www.facebook.com/troopforthecure). I have also set up a site where you can donate to the charities Troop For The Cure supports (http://freewebstore.org/troop-for-the-cure). Each donation will be accompanied by a free gift bearing the mark of Troop For The Cure, from t-shirts to stickers and beyond. The proceeds from this fundraiser will go directly and exclusively to charitable organizations such as The American Cancer Society, The Make a Wish Foundation, Arnold Palmer Hospital, Ronald McDonald House, The American Heart Association, etc. or, to special interest causes that need immediate assistance. These funds will be used IN ADDITION to whatever other activities I happen to participate in, be they Relay for Life or other 501st fundraisers.

I appreciate all the support and kind words I've seen on the Facebook page. I've got some of the greatest friends in the world, and I can't wait to show you all whats coming next. Until next time.
-TFTC
TK 89% complete

The Beginning

I’ve always loved Star Wars.

   It started when I was a kid. My Dad had this “thing” on his shelf in his den. It was weird, ugly, and ate things- in other words it was a kid magnet. He let me play with it all the time, and I fed it all kinds of toys to the point that he would have to take it apart for me and put it back together.

Yep. That thing.

   When I got older he showed me the Star Wars films, and I realized that the “weird monster” I had loved all of these years was real- it lived under Jabba’s Palace, and it was a part of an expansive universe that held amazing heroes, terrifying villains, and wonders beyond my wildest dreams. I was hooked.

I became obsessed with the world of Star Wars- I went to garage sales to find anything I could left over from the 70’s films, and amassed a collection that would make most fans weep. I had starships and aliens and bed sheets and lampshades- books and posters and costumes. The whole nine yards.

   As I got older I developed other interests, specifically music. And musical equipment is expensive. I sold off my collection, and I could tell it bothered my Dad- he told me, “keep the best pieces because one day you will wish you had them”. I didn’t listen and I sold the whole collection at a garage sale, for way less than it was worth and used the money to start a band.

   That band lasted me 15 years, took me across the country and back. I’ve met a million amazing people, opened for hundreds of amazing bands, and spent nights in wretched hives of scum and villainy that would make the Mos Eisley Cantina look like a Paula Dean fan club. But that time in my life has come to an end.

Empyrean at the House of Blues ca 2010

   Last year I went to the Star Wars weekends at Disney with my wonderful girlfriend Whitney. We watched the parades and rode the rides. I think she saw it in my eyes that I missed that part of my life, how in love I was with the world of Star Wars. It was then that I became aware of the 501^st Legion, a group of people who dressed up as and impersonated Star Wars characters. As if this wasn’t cool enough, they also took an active role in amazing charitable organizations including the Make a Wish Foundation, Ronald Mc Donald House, and the American Cancer Society. I thought it was amazing that these people were so dedicated to something that they went above and beyond to give it a meaning greater than a bunch of guys in costumes.

501st Troops

Yep. My eyes are closed.

Me with the only other guys hairier than me in the whole park.

Whitney always falls for musicians.

   Fast forward to March of this year. I was having a tough time of things. It was getting close to my birthday and things just weren’t going well, in a lot of ways. Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, I found out that my father had been diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma,  a cancer of plasma cells which attacks and destroys bone marrow. It had already caused significant bone degeneration which resulted in fractures in his ribs and spine.

I was devastated. I didn’t know what to do. My Dad has always been my hero. I didn’t care about anything, least of all a stupid birthday party. I was about to call the whole thing off when a co-worker urged me not to (Thanks, Jen!). So I went to the party, and pretended to have a good time. I put on a show for the folks who came out to celebrate, and for my girlfriend Whitney who worked very hard on putting the party together. What I never would have guessed is that there was a surprise waiting at that party that would change my life. 

The lights went down, fog filled the room, and music started playing- familiar music- and to the sound of the imperial march a Stormtrooper walked out of the restaurant kitchen and presented me with two gift cards to start me on my way to building my own armor and joining the 501^st legion. I was totally dumbfounded. It was the most generous gift I had ever been given, and in that moment it mean more to me than Whitney will probably ever know. I didn’t fully recognize it at that moment but what she gave me that night was a lot more than a silly costume that cost a lot of money.

Months passed and I stayed in a limbo. Things popped up and fell apart. My father had ups and downs with his health. I worked on my armor (which is an intense process I would have documented for this blog had I thought of this earlier) and I popped in to visit him here and there. On one of those frustrating evening, he walked out to the garage and handed me a plastic bag full of Star Wars toys he had pulled out of that garage sale all those years ago without me knowing. He said, “I kept these for you because I knew one day you would want them back”. Dad’s good like that.

The fun starts here.

In browsing the 501^st message boards and forums I became aware of the Star Wars Celebration Convention taking place in Orlando this year, as well as the unveiling of a full size rancor monster. I knew I had to get my armor done in time for the event and that I had to take my Dad to see it. I bought the tickets and tried my hardest, but things were complicated. A friend of mine had a new baby who was in critical condition due to birth complications just a few weeks before the convention. I struggled with it for a few days, because something inside me was telling me I needed to do something to help- but what could I do? And then it occurred to me. 

 

I gathered up all the remaining merchandise from my band and set up a fund raiser, promoted on facebook, and set it all up for sale in the same restaurant that that fateful birthday party had happened in (thanks to Missy, Pete, and all the wonderful folks at Oblivion Taproom!). In one weekend we raised $851 to help little Griffin Ulfharm fight for his life. I had to make a choice, between getting that armor done and giving this thing my all- but It wasn’t much of a choice. I thought of all those troops out there, and all the good they have done and knew that this was what the 501^st meant, not some silly costume.

Sadly, Griffin didn’t make it. I was crushed. After a few days I visited his parents to give them the money we had raised in hopes that it would at least contribute to a memorial service or help them with outstanding medical bills. They were very gracious and kind despite their recent loss, and I realized that maybe I hadn’t failed in this endeavor- that at least I had been able to offer them some comfort in their moment of tragedy. As I left their home I couldn’t help but notice the Star Wars poster in their living room.

A few days later I went to the convention, and it was amazing- I met a lot of awesome people, including the oldest living member of the 501^st legion, and as always I was amazed at the power of people brought together by some silly movies and a bunch of plastic.

Old Guys Rule.

Whitney Holding Hands with C3P-O

Oh, and I got a picture of my Dad in from of our favorite monster. 

That's my Dad. The "Serious Lawyer" type.

Today I became more aware of my Dad’s declining health. His treatment is not going as well as we'd hoped, and the procedures he's facing are a bit more intense than initially thought. It's all a little overwhelming for me, and once again I felt at a loss. I can't cure my Father. I can't reach inside him and fix this disease. All I can do is be there for him and try to make him laugh, make him have fun, and most of all make him understand how much I really do love him. Make him feel like his life has been good and with pupose. Make him proud of his accomplishments, his life, and his son. And it all fell into place for me. This was my new purpose, to take up the mantel of evil to do good, to put my childhood fantasy to work for an adult cause. To spend the rest of my days helping people, all the while waving the flag of epic nerd-dom. I had become the thing I had admired, and though the armor still isn’t done (I am literally typing his with dried plastic weld on my hands) the battle has already begun. I may not win it, but I will fight, all my living days to make a difference in any way I can. For the Empire, and for my Father.

 This blog is about a lot of things- It's about Star Wars- it's about the 501st- it's so that people can see what one person can do to make a difference- but mostly It's so that my Dad can pull it up from his Hospital bed and know that I love him more than anything and that I will fight for Him. 

-TFAC
TK Percentage Complete: 87%