Being young, drunk and stupid can come with lifelong consequences. And those consequences can come even if you weren’t drunk. Just ask a Tucson guy we’ll call Sam.

Twenty-something Sam was an upstanding person: a former soldier, an intelligent and compassionate chap who was aiming for grand things.

“I wanted to be a lawyer to help people,” he writes in an email. Sam instead found himself on the other side of the law as a defendant in a crime that got plenty of press due to its grisly nature.

The crime involved a severed arm.

Now Sam did not sever the arm. Nor was it his arm. The arm belonged to one of the two passengers in the Jeep that Sam was driving on that fateful night in 2009. Sam had agreed to give two guys a ride, guys we’ll call Mr. V and Mr. Choke. Sam said both of them had been drinking, and a fight erupted between Sam and Mr. Choke.

That’s when Mr. Choke put Sam in a chokehold while they were cruising down the street. Driving a Jeep while in a chokehold doesn’t work out very well.

The out-of-control Jeep thus sideswiped a tree and Mr. V, who had been partly hanging out of the vehicle, ended up with his arm severed below the shoulder. As most folks may be wont to do when they see a severed arm in their vehicle, Sam freaked out.

With Mr. V and Mr. Choke out of the vehicle, Sam drove to an apartment complex and threw the arm in a Dumpster.

Police found Mr. V at the scene of the accident and the arm in the Dumpster, but docs were unable to reattach it. It’s not clear where Mr. Choke was directly after the accident, but it is clear that Sam’s life is, well, screwed.

Sam is stuck with two felony convictions on his record—for leaving the scene of an accident and tampering with evidence. He did 30 days in jail and was placed on probation for 36 months. His probation was shortened by six months for good behavior.

The incident “has immeasurably affected me, my family and crushed any hope of having a normal life,” Sam writes. “Every day I live with this. My career in the military is over. I owned a few guns and ATF raided my home to take the guns as I was unaware … I needed to give them up. … And, of course, there’s the issue of having anyone I meet Google me and think I’m some kind of killer.”

Mr. V and Mr. Choke didn’t face any charges, although Mr. V was later awarded big bucks in a civil suit against Mr. Choke. Mr. Choke was deemed responsible for the accident, and he just happened to have a $1 million car insurance policy that took care of the award.

“How is it that I am guilty in a criminal court’s eyes, but civil courts found that the man that had me in the chokehold was guilty?” Sam asked. “And in the criminal case there were no charges filed against the guy that had me in the chokehold?

“One word,” Sam says. “Money.” (Sam also points out that Mr. Choke’s dad is a lawyer.)

While we must note that Sam did, indeed, technically leave the scene of the accident and “tamper with evidence,” should a guy who ended up with a severed arm in his Jeep through no fault of his own get some kind of break?

“It’s very difficult not only because of my background now with a felony record, but the mental weight of that night,” Sam says. “The horrors of it were unimaginable. I was in the Army; I have seen death or the pain of a wounded friend. But that night was something I couldn’t piece together. It’s something that has forced me to lose confidence in my social relationships with the world around me.”

So what’s the moral of the story here? We get several of them, actually.

Make sure there’s a lawyer in the family. Stock up on loads of cash if you ever expect to face any type of charges. And if you do end up with a criminal record, expect felonies to haunt you for the rest of your life, punishing you again and again—not unlike the gory image of a severed arm.

I fear it.

I embrace it.

I let it keep me up at night.

I poke at it with a stick.

I get skeeved when I have to

touch it and pull out an

old pair of pajamas to

wrap up my rat

and bury

him.

I abhor it.

I adore it. I really

don’t adore it I just

liked the way it

rhymed.

I hang doll

heads from my

ceiling fan a

shrunken skull from

my rearview

window.

I want it to go away.

I make it come

for bugs.

I let it sit there on

the porch I

shoo it with

a swatter.

I try to tell myself it is

the ultimate spiritual

experience and there’s no

way to get out of it yet I

still

freak out to think

I may one day

not be me. I

draw

cute little

skeletons

on tricycles.

-Ryn Gargulinski, 05.01.13

Photographing dead bodies in Vietnam, undergoing 37 operations and suffering from head-to-toe disabilities may make some of us kind of disgusted with life. Heck, stubbing a toe can make some of us disgusted with life.

Unless, of course, you happen to have a pet.

Getting free pets for military veterans is the mission of the new Pets 4 Vets Program launched by the Tucson nonprofit 4-Legged Friends Inc. Once the program is up and running, the group hopes to help provide free pets for any vet who wants one but can’t afford the adoption fees.

“When a vet gets a free pet it gives them hope!” group co-founder Lee Vork writes in an email. The exclamation point is all his. Vork’s enthusiasm comes easily despite his 37 operations, his 100 percent service-related disability status and his being pronounced dead in 2002 after a heart attack.

Another group co-founder is Tucsonan Bill Wilson, a vet who spent four years taking pictures of dead bodies in Vietnam, and whose experiences there include being shot down in a helicopter. His 100 percent service-related disability status is still pending, although he currently rates at 90 percent.

Vork and Wilson both grew up around animals on Midwest farms. They met in Tucson in 2005 and 4-Legged Friends was born a few years later. While the Pets 4 Vets Program is new, the group has been helping animals since the get-go.

“Over the past four-plus years we have helped save about 50 animals, and most recently we saved a family of five kittens found in an alley, and they are now happy, healthy and holistic cats!” Lee writes. Holistic food is another big chunk of the group’s goal, which is to educate folks on the benefits of holistic pet care.

The 4-Legged Friends corporate headquarters, at 7739 E. Broadway Blvd., currently houses 11 cats, eight dogs and six birds.

“We have an enclosed outside bird feeding area where the birds eat dry Azmira cat kibble and love it!!!” Lee writes.

Tucson’s Azmira Holistic Animal Care is where 4-Legged Friends obtains the holistic food it then sells to folks at discounted prices. Not only is Azmira local, but it also has been engaged in holistic animal care since 1982, long before it became the “in” thing to do.

Vork’s love of animals even helped nab him a wife! (The exclamation point is all mine.) Anya L. Lobos-Vork, a novelist, artist and consultant, played an integral role in helping 4-Legged Friends get off the ground.

“When I first met Lee, about 5 years ago, his enthusiasm for 4-Legged Friends completely blew me away,” Lobos-Vork writes. “His excitement was contagious. In no time at all, I was working on a logo, helping write fliers, brainstorming … doing anything I could to help.

“For me, anyway, there’s just something so compelling about a big, grown-up man who’s not afraid to speak tenderly to a kitten.

“All the founders of 4-Legged Friends have a profound appreciation for animals. For example, Lee and Bill are veterans with disabilities, and I’ve often heard them talk about the life-changing effect their pets have had on their lives.”

One of those life-changing effects came from two Japanese spaniels, one named Mama Yoshi, who had a special affinity for baby cats.

“Yoshi would let the kittens snuggle up on her and they would suck on her, not getting any milk, just letting them go through the motions, so to speak,” Vork says. He still has one of the kittens, now a 10-year-old cat named Tiger.

“I say to him, ‘Remember Mama Yoshi’—and he reacts!!!!”

Vork and gang also love seeing the transformation animals make with the switch from “crap pet food to holistic food.” A recent rescue cat named Mr. Magoo, who grew up eating a popular commercial brand, nearly died when his kidneys and liver began to shut down.

“With forced feeding of goat’s milk, warmed in Azmira holistic wet food formulas, along with hand-feeding salmon, Mr. Magoo is not dead and is slowly on the mend,” Vork says.

Saving animals, educating pet owners and helping vets and others experience the joy of pets is what 4-Legged Friends is all about.

“People don’t always realize the treasure they have in a pet,” Lobos-Vork writes. “Here is a furry, living, breathing being whose presence has the power to heal and transform!” The exclamation point is all hers.

• Photo Credit: Beverly & Pack via Compfight cc

–
This column was originally published in the Tucson Weekly.

Spruce up your fridge or turn your file cabinet into a mini gallery with cool and colorful inspirational magnets! As part of the Rynski Inspirational Artski line, these magnets can turn any dour day into a dour day with at least a giggle.

This hefty cat has the girth and charm needed to remind you that simply settling just won’t cut it. This can count for a crummy job, a crummy relationship or an overall crummy life.

Get inspired to dream and then live your dreams with this guy as a constant reminder that you can do better.

Magnet specs:

Each magnet measures 6 to 8 inches long by 4 to 8 inches wide, depending on the style. Each magnet is made out of sheet metal, includes filed edges for safety’s sake, and has at least two heavy duty magnets glued to the back. The piece is finished off with spray paint, hand-painted lettering a dose of clear coat for protection (that means you can probably slosh a bit of milk on them and it will be OK).

Can easily hold your To Do lists, reminder slips, greeting cards, illustrations or all that other fun stuff you like to stick on your fridge.

Custom options:

Unless otherwise specified, magnets will follow the shape and colors pictured – but you can always go for the shape, colors, size, and quote of your choice.

Want a dog shape with your favorite Churchill quote? A butterfly with that Helen Keller quote about soaring? How about a fish that says “Faith?” Let me know and we can go for it!

Email ryngargulinski@hotmail.com with any questions or for custom options.

The next time you hear a knock at your door, it might be a bleeding young woman. If it’s the same one who came to my door, she’ll be standing there, apparently in anguish, with bright-red droplets plopping from her face onto your porch.

As a true crime junkie, I knew well enough not to let the woman inside. Her gang of bandits hiding in the bushes would have taken that opportunity, of course, to barge in with semi-automatic weapons and steal my favorite lamp.

I instead offered the woman a paper towel to stanch the bleeding and more water for her empty water bottle.

It turns out she had not been beaten, raped or thrown in a wash and left for dead. She was suffering a nosebleed, which happens when she’s under a lot of stress. And, boy, was she under stress.

The gal proceeded to relate how she had left her friends and family behind in Texas to follow the love of her life to Tucson, and how he suddenly didn’t love her anymore. He may have been doing drugs or falling in love with a waitress or partaking in some other snippet of drama I don’t quite recall.

The gal had no car, no bicycle and would soon have no home because her former love was going to kick her out on the street. She had to ride the bus in her quest to raise cash so she could leave all this heartache behind and get back to Texas.

Would I like to buy a magazine subscription?

I’m still not sure if the nosebleed and sob story were for real or merely part of a ploy to sell more copies of Us Weekly. The girl was certainly quick to pull out the magazine order form from her back pocket as soon as the blood coagulated enough to stop dripping on my porch.

I didn’t buy.

That, for me, is unusual. I am a sucker for salespeople, and they know it. The previous magazine salesperson who traipsed into my yard cornered me in the driveway as I was taking out the trash. He liked my hat. I bought six subscriptions.

Then there was the toothless guy who wanted to clean my carpets for free to show me how badly I needed to buy his magic vacuum. And the alarm salesman dude who actually leaned on the door jamb so I couldn’t shut the door. He offered to install an alarm system at absolutely no cost—I just had to pay the monthly fees to make the alarm system active.

These solicitors swirl through the neighborhood like gnats despite the prominent “No Soliciting” signs at every entrance—and the cow bones dangling from my front door. If they don’t get you in person, they are sure to get you on the phone or online.

Never, ever, enter your name and information on forms requesting health insurance quotes (thanks again, Mom). And steer clear of the form that promises a free listing in Who’s Who of Arizona. The listing is free, but the Who’s Who lady who calls soon after tells you the listing does nothing for you. To really reap the benefits, you must become a member of Who’s Who to the tune of $780.

Everyone wants a piece of you. Even your friends. Be it a co-worker passing around her jewelry catalog, a pal throwing a skin-care party or that woman you thought was a buddy who suddenly turns every conversation into a way to sell her Reiki stuff, they all want a piece of you.

The friend requests are the toughest to reject. I’ve come to the conclusion that part of the reason we buy is a deep need to fulfill our people-pleasing tendencies. We want people to like us. We don’t want to hurt their feelings. Or we’re just suckers who don’t know how to say no.

While I do love the skin-care line and my dog digs the hand-held Reiki magnet massager, nobody loves the constant badgering to buy, buy, buy. Putting up boundaries can be a tough lesson, but it’s much easier than paying $780 so you can join some organization you’ve never heard of. No, I didn’t fall prey to the $780 pitch. And I’m glad to say the nosebleed blood washed crisply and cleanly off the porch.

Stop! and think before you fall prey to this dude and eat that entire chocolate cake. The binge monster is dangerous, leading to sprees of all sorts. Whether it’s eating, shopping, smoking, drinking or repeatedly collapsing your veins with heroin, this guy is often behind it.

Original illustration created by request. Want  you own original art? Contact ryngargulinski@hotmail.com for pricing and options.

Don’t hate them because they’re pink. The “they” in this case are breast cancer sufferers, survivors, supporters and organizations like the Southern Arizona affiliate of Susan G. Komen for the Cure, all of whom are linked to pink whether they like it or not.

Komen’s 15th annual Southern Arizona Race for the Cure kicks off March 17 at the University of Arizona Mall, which means the route won’t even clog up most city traffic (unless, of course, you plan to careen through campus in your Hummer). You’ll even get an Olympic silver medalist as the honorary race chairwoman. High jumper Brigetta Barrett doubles as a UA undergrad and her mom is a breast cancer survivor.

Despite the hard hits Susan G. Komen for the Cure has taken of late, our local branch does some pretty amazing things.

Those things don’t include paying administrative salaries at some Komen corporate office out in Dallas, either, but things that help women right here in Tucson and its environs.

“Komen Southern Arizona is the only local breast cancer foundation to turn donations into treatment dollars,” says Gillian Drummond, Komen SAZ’s communications consultant. “Many of the others are helping diagnosis and screening only. Our grants include programs for chemo and radiation and mastectomies.”

The Race for the Cure puts 75 cents of every dollar into local grants for breast cancer treatments, screenings, diagnosis and education, and 25 cents toward international research efforts.

Yet all the good stuff often goes unnoticed while some folks are busy hating pink or otherwise lashing out at Komen. We can’t really blame people for hating the pink. The hue has actually become a stigma thanks to the loads of pink-ribbon products on the market. Purses. Shoes. Staplers. Rubber duckies. Dish soap. Automobiles. Tattoos. You can even find pink ribbons on bags of potato chips.

It’s enough to make you think pink, see pink and even pee pink just going through your daily life. All this pink hype, called “pinkwashing” by thinkbeforeyoupink.org and “pinkification” by Tucson writers with short red hair and glasses, is truly enough to make anyone sick.

For the record, Komen is in no way behind the proliferation of pink ribbons on every other product. Komen’s trademarked pink ribbon is in the shape of a woman running, with a small dot on top for her head.

All other products can pop up with any other variation of the pink ribbon they choose, slap on a sticker that says the company is “donating a portion of the proceeds to help fight breast cancer,” and merrily do God-knows-what with the money.

While Drummond says she has not seen any pink-hating backlash at the Southern Arizona office, she says the office did catch flack from the Planned Parenthood debacle.

The debacle involved people up in arms because Komen gave grant money to Planned Parenthood, and then others were up in arms when Komen said it would stop the grant money. Komen then changed its mind, and is giving the grant money as usual, although none of the money or grants had anything to do with the Southern Arizona office.

No matter. Some ignorant locals still lashed out at our Komen branch.

“One staff member who drives a Komen ‘wrapped’ car—bright yellow with a pink ribbon—was shouted at when she was driving,” Drummond says. “And we got several hateful and quite vicious answer-phone messages and email messages. But I found it more upsetting than scary. It was hurtful and brought me to tears several times.”

The backlash, however, did not drive Drummond from a very cool organization, which she first discovered some years back when taking part in the Race for the Cure as a way to keep fit.

“I was under the impression I was racing to find a cure for breast cancer, little knowing of the 75/25 promise, and the fact that Komen SAZ and the grants it funds are really here primarily to serve under- and uninsured women who have nowhere else to go,” Drummond says.

“So now that I know about the mission, I realize not only what a necessary organization this is in our community, but that if the community turns its back on us—for political, religious reasons or other—they are only hurting local women. They’re hurting their friends, their neighbors, their colleagues, the many women (and men) who need support, particularly in this current health crisis that Arizona is in.”

For more information and to sign up for the race, head to komensaz.org.

I felt bad – for a moment – to

watch the bee twitch to

see his two front legs

flail crazed on his

back jacked

from the cup

I had smushed

through his middle I

felt bad – for an instant – as

I crushed his bee head

with a rock – that

buddha stuff

says not to

kill things & I

shall very well go

to hell but it was

such a human

reaction when his

fuzzy bee bottom

grazed my

lip as I took a

sip of coffee & then

glanced in the

cup to see

the bee

so gleeful

& merry

as he

tainted the

last drop

of joe.

ryn gargulinski.02.17.13

Melt your heart and brighten your yard or home with this happy quail family! The trio of darling quails include a mama quail and two baby quails, each of which can be independently hung and displayed in any arrangement that catches your eye.

The standard quail color is the pictured light aqua blue, but you can also opt for other hues, like the purple gal pictured or any other color.

Each sign is hand cut out of sturdy sheet metal, filed with a Dremel to smooth rough edges and outfitted with a wire loop for easy hanging. Body paint is rustproof, water-resistant and topped off with clear coat.

Quail signs work for indoor or outdoor use, although too much harsh direct sunlight or constant rain or snow can age them quicker than a semi-sheltered spot near a porch eave would do.

Quail sign specs:

• Mama quail measures approx. 10 inches high x 8 inches wide
• Big baby quail measures approx. 8 high x 6 wide
• Little baby quail measures approx. 6 high by 5 wide

Price for set of three is $75, plus $9 shipping

Want three rats, cats or fish instead? Custom orders always welcome! Contact ryngargulinski@hotmail.com.

If you love horses, want to protect your horses or aim to keep prying eyes and hands away from your horses, our custom horse signs are designed for you!

Pick a horse of any size, any color and sporting any saying or text that makes you whinny with delight. Perhaps you want to mark each stall with a personalized sign with your horse’s name. Maybe you’d adore an entrance horse sign that simply says Welcome!

Each metal sign starts as ordinary sheet metal which is transformed into extraordinary art. Each sign also features filed edges for safety, wire loop for easy hanging and weather-resistant, rust resistant paint topped with clear coat.

Prices depend on size: