The 2008 Gilmore Adventure Race was my first AR event and even though I didn’t finish the race due to an injury, I still had a blast and can’t wait to race again.

My brothers and I made up our 3-man team, sponsored by the family business, Data Doctors, of course. We entered the Long Course: 6+/- miles running, 25+/- miles mountain bike with strategic events scattered about the course that needed completion at each check point.

We started strong, and in spite of plotting our coordinates on the map, we still ran about 2 miles more than the course required in order to reach the first two check points (which were the only running check points, the last 9 were bike check points). Although, prior to even reaching the first check point, I had managed to stumble upon a rock in a dried up stream bed and break my toe. Of all the most painful, yet silly injuries!!! My breakage occurred about 1.5 to 2 miles into the course. I continued on, we reached the first two check points and headed back to the TA to get our bikes and continue the course when I ran through a cactus hidden in a bush. DOH! In all, we ran nearly 8 or 9 miles due to the backtracking and searching for the second checkpoint. We transitioned on the bikes and my knee was really killing me. My break was causing pain in my knee – my body was telling me to get off my foot. But I was stubborn and didn’t want to give up and not compete. After reaching the 1st bike check point, we continued to the 2nd check point where my entire right side of my body was really killing me now and I was having a difficult time keeping up with my brothers. I was seriously lagging behind. We did, nonetheless, reach the 2nd check point where we encountered our first event – using ropes and a platform, we were to fashion a can of water from one point to another without the platform touching the ground or spilling the water and continue the exercise until we had transferred a gallon of the water from point A to B. It took 6 trips and we spilled only once.

The event caused me to stop long enough to realize the pain I was enduring and left me in even more pain than I had realized. After completing the first event at the 2nd bike check point, being the 4th check point in all, we mounted our bikes and took off. This time, in the wrong direction. According to the map, it was correct, but according to the land: washes, over grown thorn bushes, barbed wire fencing, it was wrong. There was a road not clearly marked on the map that we should have taken. It would have led us away from the next check point for a piece, then led us back into it (so it would have seemed like the longer of the two options, but safer). After about 3/4 of a mile into the dense brush and wash area, scratching the skin off our shins, we turned back – we were walking the bikes more than riding and my foot was in BAD shape. We came back upon the 4th check point and this was when I realized that I was holding the team up and was not going to be able to finish the race. I had traveled about 13 miles in all, 11 of which on a broken toe. An official at the CP strongly advised that I NOT continue and he radioed for Fire to pick me up and take me back to the TA.

I haven’t been this frustrated in quite a long time. Training, training and training all to be taken out – and for what? A toe!? C’mon! I am grateful I didn’t seriously injure myself with a broken arm or leg or something, though.

I had so much to give still in that race. After 13 miles, I still had a LOT in me. Had I not broken my toe, I know I would have been able to complete the rest of the race.

I learned a lot from my first AR (Adventure Race) – what equipment I need, what equipment I didn’t need, what to expect, what to prepare for next time, etc. It was a LOT of fun and I am very excited to race again soon! Apparently, toe breaks can take up to 12 weeks to heal – then I’ll need to train again to get back into cardio and bodily shape! I’m looking for yet another miracle – I’d love to heal faster than that!

Cpl Joseph Carey, USMC - Bronze Star Medal Recipient

I would like to take this opportunity to recognize a Marine I have gotten to know through writings on a particular Marine Community website I belong to. This is his story of how he was awarded the Bronze Star with V. He is very humble as most combat Marines are, as such has been my experience. He simply feels that he was doing his job. In fact, the funny thing for him is that he thought that some of his actions got him in trouble! Little did he know…

—

I do not know if this is the right thing to do, but I was asked to write about how I received the Bronze Star. I thought about it, and I told the person that I would be too embarrassed to do that, as it would sound like bragging, but the other night I started typing and this is my story.

It was Zero Dawn Thirty (0530H), December 27, 1965. It was Chu Lai, South Vietnam, at the 3rd Battalion 7th Marine LZ. Merry Christmas! It was drizzling, and it was cold to the bone as most Vietnam mornings were. It was the start of Operation Humbug.

We were standing there at the edge of the Battalion area for some thirty minutes after I rejoined my unit, after I was released from Battalion Aid for the influenza I had just spent a couple of days down, when the trucks finally arrived to pick us up.

The conversation was idle talk. The Marines talked of letters they received from home; they talked of what they would be doing when it was they were finally returned to the world; they talked of girlfriends; they talked of sports; and, they talked about the last couple of days along the lines, but no one talked about where we were going to, or even why we were going. It was not a conversation that was wanted. Each time we went on an operation, it meant some of us may not return.

I looked around at the Marines who were waiting there. There was something very unique about each one sitting there. Some were humorous, and others were very serious, and each Marine had his own way at looking at the war, and he expressed it in a few words or an image or two upon his helmet cover. Maybe, it was our way to protest, or just that famous Marine Humor coming to light.

There were different things written on the camouflage covers of their helmets that showed a great deal of their personality. Most of these writings were humorous in nature. One Marine wrote, ‘Don’t blame me. I didn’t swim here!’ Another wrote, ‘You and me, God! Right!’ Yet another would have ‘This end up!’ The more serious of the comments were usually quotes of certain phrases from the bible, or famous Marine sayings, or even ‘Antiwar’ messages. I saw one Marine with the phrase, ‘No one LIKES war, ESPECIALLY me!’ There was also, ‘Make love! Not war!’ There were also cartoon characters drawn on the helmet covers too, as well as there were religious images, both Buddhist and Christian, embedded on their covers.

My thoughts were taken back to the present reality with the arrival of the trucks. These trucks were Marine Troop trucks. We called them ‘6×6’s’. The backs of these trucks were flat wooden platforms, and they had rails up on the sides. There were wooden benches on each side of the bed of the truck for us to sit on. In the front cab of the truck there was a machinegun turret over the passenger side of the truck, with a mounted machinegun on it. The assistant truck driver would stand on the seat, and he operated the gun when the truck was moving.

Our platoon filled three of these trucks. There was a squad in each truck. It was than it dawned on me, this was the whole platoon with Weapons Platoon incorporated in the squads. I knew that something big was going to happen to us this day.
When we got onto the trucks they lurched forward towards Highway 1. As the trucks traveled the open road, we usually sat leaning over the rails with our rifles pointed towards the outsides of the truck. This was done in case of an attack by ambush. We were taught to not be unaware of our surroundings, even in relatively secured areas such as Highway 1, just a quarter of a mile from the Battalion area.

We left the Battalion area and went east towards Chu Lai first, and than turned south onto Highway 1. This road was the main coastal road for South Vietnam, and it ran up the whole length of the coastline from the south to the north of the country. It was also a vital link for supplies for the ARVN, as well as the American and Korean Troops along its path.

We traveled the road all the way south to Nhuc Manh (I am not sure of the spelling of the town, but as best I could translate the town was translated to ‘Water Town’). There was a great deal of traffic on the road this day, more than the usual that I had seen. Mostly, the traffic was made up of little motorcycle type three wheeled vehicles painted in bright colors. The Vietnamese seemed to like very bright colors in their clothes and their possessions.

There were many Vietnamese women along the road this day. They were very beautiful women, the Vietnamese. Usually, they were slender, and they looked taller than they really were. They had long black silky hair that hung down their backs to their waist. Their hair shown from beneath the conical bamboo hats they wore on their heads, or, in some cases, the hats had been thrown onto their backs, and hung there from multicolored ribbons tied around they necks. They were very pretty of face, and often quick to smile, and it was easy to see why these women were very much to be appreciated by any man.
On this day, they all seemed to be wearing the traditional formal dresses of their country. These were gown like dresses with high silk collars, some had embroidery stitched into them, and others did not. The dresses split up the sides to the area of the waist, and were worn over their long silk pants, usually the same material as the dress. These dresses showed very well the curves of their women’s bodies, and the sight was very pleasing to my eyes. The colors of theses dresses, they too, were of some of the brightest blues, reds, and yellow colors I had seen for some time.

It didn’t dawn on me until that moment, the calendar date was past Christmas Day, and most of the people in this area were of the Catholic Religion, and this was their Holiday Season. They dressed in their finest clothing, and they went and they visited family and friends in the area as part of their holiday duties.

There were also people dressed in the traditional ‘black pajamas’ as we called them. They were usually working along the roadways. They walked along the road carrying loads of wood and shucks of rice. They carried them on long flat bamboo slabs with rope holding baskets on both ends of the bamboo. The baskets were filled to the very tops with these various foods and implements of daily life for the Vietnamese people. There was one basket in front and a second basket in the rear. When the man or the woman carrying these loads stood up, they looked like human weight scales, balancing the loads front to rear.

There were other vehicles on the roads this date, such as bicycles and motorcycles, and small private trucks and cars, as well as military vehicles from the ARVN (Army of the Republic of South Vietnam), and US Marines, and the US Navy as well.

The town of Nhuc Manh was a military center for the ARVN. It was not a fort like the outpost I had been flown to near Qui Nhon my first couple of days in my unit. Nhuc Manh was a town long before the war, as well as a regional and cultural center for the people in the area.
The ARVN had a prisoner-of-war camp in the middle of the town that was surrounded with barbed wire and guard towers. There were different military installations throughout the town, as well as shops and restaurants along the roadway, and some large brick buildings. There were guard posts manned by soldiers of the ARVN at the bridge leading into the town. I saw soldiers in all different types of uniforms walking the area of the shops, each of these men were carrying rifles, and wore gun belts around their waists. The town was busy, and the streets were crowded with all different types of people shopping and carrying on their daily life.

On the hill to the west of Nhuc Manh was a Marine outpost to guard the town from any serious attacks. The Marines called the Outpost ‘Bulldog.’ It was usually garrisoned by a platoon of Marines. It was considered to be good duty to be sent there, as far as duty went in the Republic of South Vietnam, the reason being because there were chances to socialize with the Vietnamese women, and to walk the shops of the town, and to feel like human beings for a short time, if only briefly.

As we turned toward the west, on a secondary road, just over the bridge of the Song Tre Bong River, ‘Bulldog’ appeared to be our destination. There was some low happy chatter in the truck by the Marines as we rode up the hill towards ‘Bulldog’.

I asked Cpl Arp, my fireteam leader, who was sitting next to me, what was it all about, and why the men seemed so happy. He explained ‘Outpost Bulldog’ to me, including the part about fraternizing with the local women, and it made me smile too. Unfortunately, this day for us, it was not to be our day to hold ‘Bulldog’.

The low happy chatter stopped as we continued past ‘Bulldog’ to a second bridge that crossed the Song Tre Bong River again, and than we turned farther west towards Central South Vietnam.

About ten miles outside of Nhuc Manh to the west, we got off of the trucks, and formed into our units.

We were ordered to get on line for a sweep of the area in front of us. We were on the north side of the River and the land in front of us was mostly rice paddy and some small villages. The area along the riverbank was a higher earthen dike, maybe 2 meters above the rice paddies. My team was ordered on the left flank to check the riverbank. We were told there was a small band of VC in this area harassing the farmers of the area, and we had to find them and destroy them.

It was still early, a little pat 0700H, when we received our first sniper fire of the day, and 5 VC could be seen running south out of Chau Tu. And an hour after that when the 5 VC were captured near Tien Doa (1). It was funny to me that most of these small hamlets had the same name, and how they were differentiated one from another by a number behind the name.

The area was on the edge of the jungle near several villages called Tri Binh and Phuoc Thuan I believe. The rice paddies were around the villages, and with the recent rains, the rice paddies were filled to over-flowing with water. The farmers had been out to the fields earlier, and had opened the floodgates that allowed the water to flow into other fields around their villages. The mud was very thick in some of these paddies, and it caused us to slowdown so as to have the Marines in the paddies keep on the line with the rest of us.

Our jump-off point was called line December, and we were nearing Line July. Company M was sweeping in from the North where they had been Helo-lifted into the area. We were about five Hundred Meters into the sweep when we came under fire, as some of our Company was removing fences that were constructed by the VC in the area. It was light machinegun fire, and we rushed the positions. There was a brief firefight, and the resistance ceased as the enemy fell back into the villages and the jungle growth.

We searched the dead VC we found, and called in to report the action. We were told to hold our positions on the edge of the jungle until a blocking force of Marines were in position behind the enemy.

We were in position for maybe an hour, most likely much linger, when we saw helicopters on our very far right and left flanks and some moving to about Fourteen Hundred Meters in the front of our lines.

Arp’s team, my fireteam, was still moving along the riverbank, and it was Tanguay and I on the extreme left flank. Tanguay was watching the other side of the river for any enemy activity, and I was watching this side of the river’s bank for any enemy soldiers.

It was about 1300H when we were about another Four Hundred Meters into the renewed push, when I saw some movement in the water. I ordered a halt to the forward push of our troops, and Tanguay went onto the ground where he had stood up to that time, and the rest of the Marines to the north went to one knee ready to fire.
Cpls Arp and Brock came on-the-run to the riverbank where Tanguay and I were.

I had moved to position near the water down riverbank, and I was watching the water for movement. Brock and Arp went to a low crouch as they approached, and than onto the ground and crawled as they neared my position.

‘What’s wrong’ Why did you stop us? Said Brock in a low voice.

‘There is something in the water, Corporal Brock.’ I pointed to an area where there was only a slight ripple of water now.

‘Are you sure it is not a crocodile, or something like that?

‘No! I’m not! I would rather hold everybody up for a little while, and check it out rather than to have someone come up behind us. Let me go check it out, Brock.’ I said.

‘OK! Arp! You get Rickey, and Tanguay stay here, and get Barone’s team over here to cover Carey in the water.’

While this was being done, I removed my flack jacket, and web gear. I left my boots on, after Brock said to ‘watch out for panji stakes and barbed wire in the water’. He said it was a VC trick to put those things in the water where they could not be seen. I took my bayonet out of the sheath on the web belt, and took off my shirt.

I went down to the water’s edge of the riverbank. Freeman and Tanguay covered the other side of the river with their AR and rifle, and Barone and Rodriguez kept their rifles pointed ahead of me as I entered the water. Brock and Arp moved along the top of the riverbank looking for any thing of interest in the water below them. I slowly went into the water. I kept my eyes above water as I swam quietly toward the spot where I had seen movement. The rest of me was well under water, and barely a sound was made as I swam.

In this area of the river, the banks were about two to three meters above the waterline. I knew if I were fired upon here, I was not going to make it out of the river alive.

Again, I saw some movement in a bush just above the water line, and I rolled on my back and I hand-signaled to Barone, and to Arp and Brock to watch that area, as I pointed to it from the river. I than went under water, and I swam to that area with the Bayonet in my teeth (Just like in the Pirate stories). I came up slowly out of the water showing only my forehead and eyes above the water, and I was very near the bush, but I could see there was nothing there, absolutely no one. I slowly went under water again, and the water was so muddy that I couldn’t see anything, and I knew that I did not cause all of that mud.

I came up slowly for air once more. I could just barely hear Brock above me on the banks, ‘Carey! Five feet in front of you, and I hope it is not a crocodile! There is something moving in that bush.’ Brock said in a low whisper from the bank, as he aimed his rifle.

I slowly slipped under the water again, and I went right down to the bottom, and I quietly stayed there and looked for any movement, and I waited for the mud to settle.

Then, I saw them!

There was a pair of pair of legs in front of me. I looked toward the surface form the river bottom through the grasses growing there, and I could see a Vietnamese man with his face turned to the surface breathing air beneath a bush through a bamboo tube. There was an M-1 Carbine in his hands below the surface pointed upward to the riverbank as he watched Brock looking in to the water below.

I put my feet under me on the floor of the river, and used the leverage to push myself into the man grabbing his rifle and putting the bayonet into him below his chest and pushing up with it and turning it the way I was taught. He was most likely dead immediately, but I pulled him further under water with me and to the middle of the river. I saw no air bubbles escaping from his mouth, and I let him drift away to the bottom of the river. As I took the Bayonet out of him, while still under water, I swam underwater to where the Marines were on the bank waiting for me. As I did this, I thought I saw another set of legs in the water in the same spot. It might have been bushes in the water, but I was pretty sure it was a pair of legs.

There was absolutely no resistance from the man I had just killed, so I came up slowly for air. When my head went above the water, I saw Arp looking down at me, and I used my free hand to motion for quiet. I than swam to the low part of the bank that both, Barone and Rodriguez, were standing guard at.

I handed up the dead VC’s Carbine, and I signaled there was another one in the water, for them to be quiet. I than went back into and under the water.

I swam to the bottom again, and I waited for the water and the mud to calm down, and, than, I moved in to where I had seen the possible legs before, and saw there was nothing there. There were no legs! There were no Branches! There was just nothing there, but bushes! I came up for air again, and Arp was over me on the bank.

I took the bayonet out of my teeth, and said very quietly, ‘There was another one, but I can’t find him now! Damn! I would have had him, if I would have stayed a little while longer.’

I was so mad at loosing the soldier, I kicked at the riverbank, only, my foot didn’t stop at the bank. It kept going!’

I fell beneath the water and into a hole. I felt someone else’s flesh touch my leg. By accident, I had found him. I had fallen into the opening of an underwater cave entrance, and, now, I was in the cave. I could see how I had not seen it before; it was well hidden in the tall grasses under the water.

At about a meter under water on the riverbank was the start of the entrance to the cave. Below the entrance, there was a hole that went down approximately another meter, than there was a meter step-up, and than it was grated up inside the riverbank to a point above the waterline, where there was a level and large manmade cavern that went down a meter or two below the entrance water door.

At the time, it was more what I could feel about the cavern, rather than what I could see of it. It was pitch black in there, and there were a great many different voices around me.

Something cold and metal touched me in the back, and I turned and thrust the bayonet into where I thought might be a chest cage of a man, but it went through something very soft an pliable, and I felt the bayonet grate against bone at the end of the thrust. I did not have a chance to think about what I was doing. There were loud excited voices that sounded like fright-night at the local theater back home, and there was someone right next to me. There was a scream that came from behind me.

Pandemonium had broken loose in the cavern. Someone tried to put his arm around my neck, and I stabbed again, and again, and again. I was going to die, but I wasn’t going to die alone. I grabbed the two nearest to me, and I pushed my way out of the cave with them in my arms, and I delivered them back to the riverbank. One of the men broke free, and he tried to escape across the river the water, and either Tanguay, or maybe, Rodriguez, one of them, shot him. I think it was Rodriguez that jumped into the water to get the perforated escapee.

My bayonet was still in the cave, and I went back to get it. I found it by the entrance, and I saw a pair of legs there. I picked up the bayonet, and I grabbed the legs I saw, and I swam, and pulled my way back to the bank, and to the safety of my Marines with the VC in tow and screaming all the way.

I went back to see if I could get another one! I went under water, then, I thought I did die.

There was white light, and I could not hear anything any longer. I had no feeling in my body, with the exception of the electric shocks running through places on my body that I did not even know I had places. My whole body felt like it was on fire. Than I felt like I was air and fire both at the same time. Than, everything went blank, and I was nowhere. I thought, is this death’

As I think about it now, I remember, when I kept coming up for air from beneath the water, and even when I brought up the VC soldiers, I felt there was something that was missing. At the time I could not put my finger on it exactly, because I was too busy, but something, or someone, was missing. I later found out it was Corporal Brock.

Corporal Brock, he was a good NCO. During the time I was in the water, he had found the air vent for the cavern below the riverbank, and had gotten a group of engineers attached to our unit to blow up the air vent with C4 explosives. Little did he know, that I was inside the cavern when he ordered the air vent blown-up! The concussion of the explosion knocked me out.

It was Arp that told me what had happened during that brief time I was missing the action. He said that he was sure I was dead, but he said I walked out of the water under my own power, and I just fell down on the bank.

Arp told me, when the explosion settled, and everything stopped falling around them. They came up on the hole in the ground that had taken the place where the bank was once before there was the explosion, but that they took another 14 prisoners out of the hole, somewhat shaken and cut up, but alive none the less.

He said they saw bodies all over the place in the crater of the explosion, but, he said, he was most surprised to see the VC alive.

He said, he and Barone, and others jumped into the hole and pulled the VC out. It was Doc Thunder that said I was all right, and that I would live. He told me I could have a mild concussion, but that I would be all right in a short period of time. Saying that I was just stunned by the concussion of the explosion.

Brock was sitting there near me by this time, and he asked me how I was feeling. I could hardly hear him, because of the ringing in my ears. He gave me a ‘thumbs up’ sign, and he told me we would be leaving in an hour. He asked Doc if I would be ready to go by than. I heard this and told him, ‘Of course he will be ready.’

The Lt asked me about what happened’ And, why was I in that cave’

I told him what happened, and after I told him I thought that I was in real trouble now. I should not have done it. It was not for weeks later that I knew that the Lt had put me, and the squad in for commendation awards. The Marines didn’t hand out metals for bravery that often in the beginning of The War in South Vietnam. The ‘Official Word’ was that we are all doing our job just by being there, but General Fields, The Division Commanding Officer, on July 26, 1966, decorated me for bravery in this cave incident, while I was still in Vietnam with the Bronze Star with V, and Corporal Brock and the others also received Navy Marine Corps Commendation medals with V’s on that date.

The photo below is of my oldest daughter and I walking on the beach at Camp Pendleton, CA over the fourth of July weekend.

Wow. So after making a new post to my blog on my iPhone, then seeing it on the computer, I must say, this little iPhone App is a must have!!

5 of 5 *’s

Congress, Get Off Your Gas, and Drill

By Chuck Norris

Last Thursday, oil prices increased $5.50 per barrel in one day. Last Friday marked the biggest single-day surge in oil price history, rocketing $11 more to $138 on the New York Mercantile Exchange. In just two days, oil costs increased 13 percent. Average Americans literally are driving to the poorhouse on financial fumes. With gas at $4 per gallon, roughly two cars in every household, and the average annual gas usage at 700 gallons, you do the math. Americans are being forced to use their hard-earned money that once put food in their stomachs to put petroleum in their tanks and to drive the exact same distances they drove a decade ago for four to five times the price. As oil and gas prices skyrocket, Congress continues to play the blame game. In April 2006, with the Democrats poised to take over Congress with Nancy Pelosi at the helm, she released a statement saying, “With skyrocketing gas prices, it is clear that the American people can no longer afford the Republican Rubber Stamp Congress.” She followed that with a commitment, “Democrats have a commonsense plan to help bring down skyrocketing gas prices by cracking down on price gouging.” So, has the Democrats’ common-sense plan worked? Average gas prices were about $2.50 a gallon at the time. Now they’re $4 a gallon and rising. Some crackdown plan. Look at the energy chaos that our government has allowed. While we remain at the mercy of oil companies, cartels and OPEC, our government has tied the hands of states and citizens to tap even temporary energy relief from our own land. Here are a few key vistas on the oil and energy landscape: — Though we have more oil in the shale of Colorado, Utah and Wyoming than there is in the Middle East (800 billion barrels), liberals and environmentalists have made it illegal to touch it. — It’s illegal to drill in northern Alaska’s Arctic National Wildlife Refuge or off the coasts of Florida or California. — It’s illegal to explore the Atlantic Ocean for oil. — It’s illegal to explore the Pacific Ocean for oil. — We’re not receiving leases anymore to drill in the Gulf of Mexico, while China, Venezuela and Cuba are. — We haven’t built an oil refinery in more than 30 years and have reduced in half those we have. — American airlines are in danger of going out of business. — American truckers are being stranded on the sides of roads. — American commuters are going bankrupt trying to travel back and forth to work and are being forced to work locally for lower wages. — There’s enough natural gas beneath America (406 trillion cubic feet) to heat every home in America for the next 150 years, but we can’t tap it all. — We have the largest supply of coal in the world, but it’s Germany who is planning to build 27 coal-fired power plants by 2020. — Etc.! Bill Clinton once said, “We just have to slow down our economy and cut back our greenhouse gas emissions ’cause we have to save the planet for our grandchildren.” That is the type of mentality that got us in this trouble. We’re saving the planet but killing our economy and nation. Congress needs to take some practical steps now to stop the insanity at the pumps, reduce our dependence on foreign oil, open up some temporary energy production avenues for economic relief (such as shale development), and focus more on developing alternative energy (coal, natural gas, hydrogen, solar, nuclear, wind, etc.). There is simply no reason or justification for us to be dependent on foreign fuels that we can produce in our country. If you’re sick and tired of giving away $2 of every gallon of gas to foreign dictators — making other oil-producing countries, cartels and tycoons rich beyond their imagination — and watching the federal government flail for energy solutions and bow to international powers — all of whom are sucking the very life out of the American people, economy and threatening national security — I implore you to sign and pass along the petition at Newt Gingrich’s “American Solutions for Winning the Future” Web site (www.AmericanSolutions.com). We’re hoping to send millions of signatures to Congress demanding an immediate emergency session and resolution to our economic and national security crisis revolving around soaring oil and gas prices. Our message: It’s time to drill here and drill now! The petition is simple. It states, “We, therefore, the undersigned citizens of the United States, petition the U.S. Congress to act immediately to lower gasoline prices (and diesel and other fuel prices) by authorizing the exploration of proven energy reserves to reduce our dependence on foreign energy sources from unstable countries.” Speaking of unstable countries, did I mention that Iraq’s oil minister just reported oil production is at prewar levels (2.5 million barrels a day), yielding earnings for Iraq of $28.5 billion in just the first five months of this year? What that means is soon we likely will be dependent and in debt to yet another Middle Eastern oil-producing country that we’ve helped stabilize and become wealthy while ours is going straight down the tubes. Congratulations, Congress; you’re failing us completely.