Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

I find that passage interesting. Its true. I said it many times. I guess I really never thought about it. But, there it is.
My name is Mike, and I will tell you of an adventure I had while in the City of Death, Murder capitol of the world, or as we called it "Paradise City" It has drama, action, heart ache and horror... and that is what happened after I came home. My journey started in 2003 and has not ended. It may never end. I am continually targeted with these "Roadside Bombs" of life as I navigate the day to day. Maybe we all have them, in other forms or definitions, but these are mine. I will tell you of them.

This is my Roadside Life.

Roadside bomb or I.E.D.
An improvised explosive device (IED) is a bomb constructed and deployed in ways other than in conventional military action. They may be partially comprised of conventional military explosives, such as an artillery round, attached to a detonating mechanism. (From Wikipedia)

A truly nasty device that detonates with no warning. It is a terror device in the truest form. Once detonated mass panic, and confusion ensue. CRACK! You are slammed, hit with a full body press of immense weight. You cant see, you cant hear, your arms and legs go numb, you stomach feels like a giant tightened knot. Your head is a soup of dizziness, and swirling. You don't know where you are, you cant hear, you cant breathe, your not even sure if you are alive. Gripped with terror the world comes rushing back like a funnel cloud slamming you back into the now. Gunfire, screams, heat, sweat and blood all greet you when the spots leave your eyes and the ringing stops. The radio blares with traffic. Who? Where? Anyone hurt? Anyone dead? GO! GO! GO!

Then it is over. The cloud of dust and debris blow away with the wind from behind and you continue traveling on the road. No one stops if they don't have to. You check yourself and your buddies for holes and bleeding. Then it is over. You laugh and talk about how lucky you are. Jab a finger in your ear to stop the dull ring. Wipe the blood from your nose on your sleeve. Spit the grit out of your mouth only to realize that the white powdery substance was part of a tooth. Dam another chip.

You get home, to camp, without incident. Pass the port-a-jons, hear someone crying. Don't say a a word. Climb in one yourself... and retch. Puke all of the terror out. Clean up. Because,
"Today is the first day of the rest of you life." and you have a mission in a few hours.