Pet Peeves

I haven't been playing very long and Lord knows there's very little about me or my game worth bragging about, but I'm nothing if not considerate.

Disc golf is a great game....and one worth enjoying.  I have no qualms whatever about guys on the course taking their time to get every shot right, make every put count, and work their tails off to make their game tip-top. Be you.  Do what you do, brother, and tweak that game into a National Championship.

However, what I absolutely HATE are people who have NO consideration for other players.  

For example, the other day I was playing The Castle with three of my buddies.  We were a foursome and apparently the twosome in front of us started on the back 9.  Slow on 10....okay.  Might've been a bad hole.  Maybe they'll settle in and find their groove.  But no!  We're waiting at 11 and they're literally 25 feet in front of the tee-box throwing TWO DISCS EACH.  One of them even looked back and saw us waiting before he threw his second shank into the woods.  No "Hey, y'all go ahead" or, "Feel free to play through."  Just looked back (no courtesy wave even) and then WENT TO FIND THEIR DISCS.  Didn't even know where they threw them.

This went on until 17.  My foursome waited on every single hole for those two doucherockets.  Finally on 17 we're waiting.  Again.  After five minutes one of them walks out of the woods and says, "You can play through...we're looking for a disc."

As I walked up to my drive I saw the douche who didn't have a beard mad-dogging us seeming to expect an offer to help find his boyfriend's disc.  Nothin' doin', son.  F#@! yo couch.  Walked on like the Man in Black and birdied that bad boy like it was my job.

I guess the point to this post that I took the scenic route to is that I hate inconsiderate people.  If you're slow and people are constantly waiting on you, let 'em play through.  Doesn't matter if they have more people....if they're playing faster, stand aside and let 'em go.  It's just common courtesy.  

That's my pet peeve: Inconsiderance.   And yes, I just made that word up.  What's yours?

Nobody Likes Kyle Very Much: Miracle on 11

Skated out of work a skosh early to take advantage of the type of beautiful day Joe Nichols immortalized in his catchy little country song and, of course, headed to The Castle to get in a round before having to pick up the chirren from tennis practice.  Caught up to my pal Rudy and my disc golf arch-nemesis Kyle on #8 for some company and some competition, respectively.  I proceeded to double-bogey that, so it was shaping up to be a typical day on the course for me.

But Kyle had other plans.  He was determined to make me look bad and that back nine his bitch.  Not necessarily in that order.

#11 from the tee

Carl and A.J. joined us for the back so we were a five-some.  #10 played out normally (meaning I bogeyed and everyone else made par) and we all trudge across the road to tee off on 11.  Truth be told, we all had really nice drives -- though A.J. would have been a lot happier if his new Westside Tursas -- which I'm told is Norwegian for "I'm sorry I shot you but I thought you were robbing my store" -- had come out a little flippier.  Kyle had thrown the hot-pink Champ Mamba I'd traded him for his Nuke SS a few weeks earlier.  It came out even better than normal:  Working the line and turning over perfectly before fading out at the last minute and dropping just inside the tree-line right before the entrance back into the woods.  Really a great shot for us barely (and probably ill-advisedly) post-Rec, budding Am players.

Kyle's more-typical drive on #11

Kyle's in good shape off his drive and walks up to survey his lie.  He checks it out -- a demi-god among men -- doesn't see anything overtly conspiratorial about it, and seems to smell the sweet stench of challenge in the air.  The dramatic, self-satisfied turn of the head he gives to the mere mortals who had to throw before his mighty drive seems to mock the very thought that he could blunder on this pittance of a hole.

You can tell by his expression and the direction he's looking that he's eyeing a controversial (if not downright dubious) line.  His face contorts into thirty different thoughtful cramps like Jim Carrey dropping the biggest deuce of his life in a port-o-potty while he contemplates his options, all within a matter of ten seconds.  It's all:  "Hmmm....might be good....nope....oh, wait...yep....damn.....mmmmm......yep.  Shit is definitely about to go down."  It's a tense moment, but he's not one to keep people in suspense.  He's nothing if not decisive.  

Kyle is a fan of throwing the roller, but is considered somewhat of a wild-card when it comes down to the execution of it.  For those who've played with him and have seen him throw it know that the phrase "YOLO!" is often heard right before it happens.  It's either an epic shot that turns out beautifully, or a disastrous mistake that turns a run-of-the-mill par into a 120-foot jump-putt to save triple-bogey from the jailhouse in the woods.  Today Kyle chose the former.

#11 basket from the fairway

From the left side of the entrance towards the #11 pin, Kyle slams his putter into the ground.  It rolls entirely through the woods unscathed without even a patch of pine needles to slow its trajectory.  The spin was such that it might have rolled all the way across the swamp and made for a bad-ass tee shot on #12 if not for the gigantic tree that served as the goal-line defense 35-feet behind the basket.  I was floored.  The chutzpah of this cat to throw that shot and have it turn out the way it did was breathtaking.  Gotta hand it to the guy for taking his game by the balls with his carpe diem attitude towards upshots.

But that's not even the good part.

So now he's looking at a long, uphill 35-footer for the bird.  I'm standing by the bridge waiting to tap in my bogey, curious to see if Kyle can pull off another miracle shot.  Then I see him gripping his putter like he's a homely version of Beth Fullwood, one of our fellow card-mates during the monthly tournaments who's considered somewhat of an expert on thumbers and weight-loss.  

"No way he's gonna thumber that putt," I think to myself, "There's a tree right in front of the basket....not a good look."  Silly me.....Kyle's full of surprises.

He switches grips at the last minute and tomahawks the disc at the basket.  Hard.  Not even with finesse; more like he hates the pin like it owes him money from his old neighborhood.  Just as I thought, the disc hits the tree with a gangster ruthlessness, but then -- like Arlen Specter's magic bullet -- it seems to defy all laws of physics, change course in mid-flight, and BANG into the chains, settling into the basket for the three.  I was stupefied.

I know that birdies on #11 are just another day at the office for many people, but for guys like Kyle and me it's an accomplishment.  And seeing it done with such a devil-may-care attitude was truly a sight to behold.

I hate Kyle.

This is Kyle

Back in the saddle again...

Seven years.  That’s how long it’s been.

Wasn’t in Tibet.  Didn’t break a mirror.  Didn’t declare bankruptcy and crawl under a rock until my credit score got back into the triple-digits.  Truth is, I just didn’t have anything to write about.

Well, I do now.

As you may or may not know, I got big into chess in 1999.  I played in and directed tournaments, ran the website for two local clubs, and even sat on the board of directors for the Iowa State Chess Association for a couple years.  I loved it.  It was (and still is) a great game, one which I still enjoy from time to time.  However, after being so absorbed with the game, the players, and the organization of the sport I became disillusioned with it.  I hated the fact that I needed an opponent, and the vast majority of the avid woodpushers I encountered over the years weren't exactly the type of people with whom you would choose to have a beer.  Sure, you can play against the computer, but that’s hardly the same thing.

I played my last “official” game of chess in 2006 (which, ironically, is also seven years.)  Since I came back from Kuwait in 2007 I've moved three times and toyed with a few other hobbies, but even the excitement of Geocaching didn't capture my attention and inspire my imagination the way chess did.  Now, this isn't necessarily a bad thing since, as my wife Amy will tell you without hesitation, I have a very “addictive personality.”  She doesn't mean that I’m “irresistible” or that people get addicted to me personally (actually the opposite is true).  What she means is that once I get absorbed by something I become fanatical about it.  It’s all I want to do.  I was that way with chess.  I was also temporarily that way with Geocaching and with guitar, but to a much lesser degree.

Enter Disc Golf.

A few of my friends played disc golf back in Iowa during high school, so I’d heard of it but never picked up a disc before.  Never saw the point.  I figured if you wanted to smoke weed it was more fun to do it at your apartment in front of your Sega Genesis playing Madden ’92 than walking around chasing a Frisbee.  I have since seen the light and on the Fourth of July 2013, with my brother in law Josh as my encouragement and supplier of equipment, I played my first round of disc golf at Arrowhead Park here in Wilmington.

Wow.  I was blown away.  Not only by how cheap it is, but how much fun I had doing it. 

The concept is exactly like “ball golf,” but with modifications:  Throw a Frisbee (a disc) from a tee pad at a basket with suspended chains in the fewest throws possible.  This video is probably the best introduction to the game I’ve seen:

I play almost every day and the benefits are already paying dividends.  Since I’ll be 65 in just over 26 short years, my knees and back aren’t what they used to be.  Disc golf has gotten me back down to my “fightin’ weight” without having to bore myself into shape by running.  The kicker is that disc golf is free.  To play, anyway.  You have to procure the discs, but a beginner pack of three complete with a driver, a mid-range, and a putter (yes, there are different discs for different shots) will only run you about $20.00 at your local sporting goods store.  There are no green fees, no requirement to set a tee-time, and there are over 3,000 courses around the United States.   Compared to ball golf where people think nothing of shelling out $400.00 for a new driver to have a terrible round they played $50.00 to play 18 holes, I’ll take disc golf every time.

So, that’s what I’ve been up to.  I know this isn’t the most interesting blog post, but I didn’t want to start up and switch gears too fast without an explanation.  I don’t know if I’ll have any readers or not, but I’ll be writing more here regardless.  I’m more than likely going to retire from the Navy in the next two years, so in between my next career and playing copious amounts of disc golf I need to sharpen my writing skills to conjure up that New York Times best-seller I’ve been meaning to write.

Chuckers rule, golfers drool.  See ya on the course.

Made it!

After six long months, I finally made it back home to Texas. Left on February 25th, saw the fam the next day. The flights weren't all that fun, but considering they served beer and I got to see my wife & kids at the end of it, I can't really complain. Got laid-over in Baltimore when the snowstorm that struck Maryland grounded all the planes and there weren't any connecting flights to DFW available at 2300, so I paid a cab $30 to take me to the Holiday Inn which was, of course, booked solid. So I had to hoof it at midnight in my DCUs in 30 degree weather to three different hotels in the hopes of finding a room. Got one on my fourth try. You'd think that walking around in snow dressed as someone ready to pop caps in camel jockeys would be disheartening upon landing on your home soil, but when you consider that I was in the states and didn't have to wear an M9 just to go outside the wire, things couldn't have been better.

At any rate, I've been home for just over two weeks now and the big brass on base have found it in their hearts to give me as much leave as I feel like taking, which is always a good thing. Unfortunately, I'm starting to get bored as the novelty of being the FNG slowly wears off, so I'm just about ready to start heading into work again.

In the meantime, I've been partying like a rock star, living it up with my wife, kids, friends from Fort Worth, and was even graced by a visit from my little brother who came over from Denver. Mom & Em are coming at the end of the month too, so it looks like I'll be plenty busy with company. Also, my good buddy Dan Miller's family will be coming down next week -- Dan's currently deployed to the UAE -- and we're taking all the kids to SeaWorld for a splish-splashin' good time. Looking forward to it.

The good news (work-wise) is that I made board and should be hearing whether or not I picked up those much-coveted anchors here by the beginning of June. Keep your fingers crossed for me.

Other than that, nothing else to report. Should be pretty blase now that I'm home, so I won't expect many comments or readers. Nevertheless I'm keeping this blog just to show you that I can. And also to annoy you. That's just how I roll.

Waving Bye-Bye

Ladies & Germs, my time here is just about up. According to my little time-counter I have just about 128 hours left onboard Camp Arifjan. For those of you bad at long division, that translates into just over four days. This time next week I’ll be waking up in my own bed next to my beautiful wife, probably by my two darling little girls. Please believe when I say I can’t wait.

This deployment has been an eye-opener for me. I’ve gotten to see how the senior leadership deals with issues and how their decisions affect how business is conducted at my level. It’s been educational and I’ve learned a lot. But as we Gen-X’ers say, “It’s been real, it’s been fun...but it hasn’t been real fun.” I got my little award and my eval’s been signed, so I’m ready to raise up outta here.

That said, this will be my last post in this blog before I head home. Not that it’s been real entertaining or eventful, but for those of you who’ve taken the time to read it from time to time, thank you. I’ll see you in a couple of days. Better start hydrating now...

Peace!

Join the Navy, See the World

That’s what the poster said. And they weren’t kiddin’ neither, son.

Just got back from Djibouti and Ethiopia (Africa) on my very last trip as the Aide De Camp last weekend. It’s not nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. Their accommodations there aren’t too awful bad. Plus, they have beer and that’s always a bonus. Africa was the last continent on the planet (besides Antarctica) that I had to visit in my Navy travels. Can't say the Navy engages in false advertising.

Incidentally, when I was a kid and didn’t want to eat something during supper time, one of my mom’s favorite sayings was, “You eat that! There are starving kids in Ethiopia who would DIE to eat what’s on your plate!” Well, I looked while I was in Ethiopia (see pic at right) and didn’t find a single one, Mom. Your pants are on fire.

18 days and a wake up now, kids! I got my wish and have been relegated to a corner desk in the back office (Sustainment Division), forgotten. And I get Saturdays off. Yay! Three weeks from today I’ll be sleeping in my own bed at home in Fort Worth. Can’t wait!

Git to da choppa!

Whew! Last couple days just FLEW by. Boss had a conference at Al Udeid Air Base (the biggest air base in the CENTCOM AOR) and a few office calls with a couple big shots down in Bahrain. The good thing about those places is: BEER! Fell off the wagon for a couple days to indulge in a few empty calories, but I’m back on it and ready to hit the gym this afternoon. Always good to get a break from the daily grind and drown your sorrows in a few bottles of malted hops. Here’s a few pics from the weekend’s events:

Heading to Qatar in the Blackhawk. I love helicopters...

Me & LCDR Brian Malloy enjoying a couple frosty beverages.

Major General Eugene "Gray" Payne (aka. The Boss) & me

Sombreros for everybody!

Big pimpin' it at the Sherlock Holmes Club at the Gulf Hotel in downtown Manama, Bahrain. You know how we do.

George Costanza ain't got shit on me.

Phat.....like Cindy Crawford!

I've been on the Body for Life diet now since November 6th. Spent almost two months in the sandbox before I finally hunkered down and got serious about shedding some of this extra weight I've been packing on since Amy & I got married. I mean, let's face it: there comes a time in a man's life where the terms "cute baby fat" and "a pudgy little teddy bear" no longer apply. I was weighing in at a hefty 215 when I left last August. I knew I was living large...how could I not? Some people like to try and justify their weight or excuse their eating habits by saying things like, "Oh, I'm just big boned." Bullshit. Dinosaurs are big boned. You're fat. Or "Well, I'm just a little heavy." Again, bullshit. Aircraft carriers are heavy. You're fat. These cutesy little PC euphemisms are just brain fodder for the lazy no-load who doesn't have the self-discipline to put down that ninth Krispy Kreme, push his fat-ass away from the table and get outside and run a few miles.

So in keeping with the spirit of calling a spade a spade and all, I was getting pretty FAT there for a hot minute myself. But I want y'all to know that I know that and I'm through lying to myself. Much like that fourth Twinky, lies are bad for you. They rationalize your situation in your own mind and beget complacency. That said, I've changed my way of thinking and my habits. I've sorted out my priorities and am now a full-fledged, four-alarm, neurotic health nut. (Okay, maybe not neurotic, but I watch what I eat.)

Like I said, I weighed about 215 before I left. Looking a pictures from my going away party -- remember? Everyone shaved my head? -- I was looking every ounce of that 215, too. Not too attractive there, Tubby. So, I vowed to myself (and my wife) that I would come home thin. At first I told her I'd come home "thinNER," but c'mon....who was I trying to bullshit here? You have to BE thin to get thin-NER. Bottom line: I just had to lose some serious poundage, so finally I just said I'd come home thin.

Amy, I'm making good on my promise!

Today I jumped on the scale at the Zone 1 Gym and I have to admit, I was a little nervous. I started on the BFL diet but once I hit 195 (20 pounds!) I started to cheat a little here and there. Not gorging on sweets or going overboard with snacks or anything -- I just let the rigidness of the program slide a little bit, but I watched my portions and kept the workout routine going. That's what I'm doing today. I'm just trying to maintain my weight and get healthy. I'll have a treat or two every now and then, but I'm not camped out in front of the candy table like a couple of the other fat asses around here. So anyway, back to my story....

I get on the scale this afternoon and, like I said, I was a little anxious. Not sticking exactly to the BFL diet had me worried. Imagine my surprise when I hop on it in PT gear, look down, and the scale reads 188. One hundred eighty-eight pounds! I haven't weighed that much (or, more accurately, that little) since....geesh, I can't remember when. Three more and I'll have lost 30 pounds!! Crazyness. Absolutely crazy. I couldn't believe it. Needless to say I'm pretty happy about my progress. I'm going to try and get those last three pounds gone before I head back home in 47 days, but if I can squeeze out another five and make it down to 180, I'll definitely make a go of it.

So that's my story for today. And I’m stickin’ to it. Like my diet.

Eat your heart out, Fabio.

I'm back!

Happy New Year!

I got back from Bahrain in one piece, but the whole trip is pretty hazy to me personally. It gets a little fuzzy right around the time we were all sitting around the hotel bar doing shots of Captain Morgan's and drinking Hennessy & Red Bull, doing "the shopping cart" and "the lawnmower" on the dance floor. The A-Rabs over there are pretty crazy, too. The men (wearing man dresses and that thing on their heads) apparently have no compunction whatever about dancing and grinding all up on each other to what, to me, sounds like the same whining songs over and over. Makes me feel a lot better about my signature dance, “The White Man’s Overbite.” (That's how I roll.) I shaved my chest with a pair of desk scissors sometime during the course of the weekend, too, but exactly when I'm not sure. I guess I figured I’d get a head-start on the surgery I had on the Wednesday after I got back. Itches like crazy now. Anyways, they tell me I had a pretty good time.

In other news, the new boss is here. Marine Corps Brigadier General Eugene “Gray” Payne is taking over for General Ladnier in the next couple of days. Seems like a real nice guy. He found out yesterday that he, too, picked up his second star, so that’s good news for everybody. Always nice when your boss starts off with a positive experience. With any luck he’ll replace me with a new Aide-De-Camp so I can focus on doing what I was supposed to be doing here from the git-go. It’s been educational and all, but I’ve gotten my fill of face time with the big brass and it’d be great if they could send me off to a corner for my last 48 days and just forget about me. It was an eye-opening experience working this closely with really senior military leaders, but if this job has taught me one thing about myself it’s that I am definitely a blue-collar guy. All the politics are just so...draining. It is, however, pretty fun to watch a bunch of normally haughty and high-handed officers trip over themselves trying to brown-nose the boss. But despite the entertainment value, I’m ready to get out of this desk and enjoy my last couple of weeks in relative obscurity. Maybe even get a day or two off.

Speaking of, it looks like I won’t be heading home early after all. They don’t want to let anyone leave without a relief on post -- Pandora’s Box and all that. Figured I might've had a shot -- the Navy Region Southeast Sailor of the Year board is going down February 4-8 and were I home I'd represent NAS JRB Fort Worth at that -- but alas, no dice. S'all good though. I’ve only got about six short weeks left and I can do that standing on my head, baby.

Catch y’all later!

Vegas, baby....Vegas!!

Nope....not going to Nevada. I'm heading out for four days of liberty in the Vegas of the Middle East: Bahrain!

The Chief Petty Officers of Navy Central Command (NAVCENT) have found it in their hearts to send me and about a dozen other sailors out of this big litterbox they call Kuwait to get some much-deserved R&R in Bahrain for New Year's. These cats get high marks from me. Taking care of their sailors, they are! Putting us up in a posh hotel in Manama, right in the midst of a kinds of festivities that are happening this weekend. Should be a good time. I'll let you know how it turned out when I get back.

Nothing else to report. No word on my departure date yet, either. Nevertheless, I've only got 61 more days left in the sandbox, so I'll be seein' y'all real soon either way!

Happy New Year!

Don't Lie to Me!

Have you been naughty or nice?

Just kidding. I'm sure you've been a bit of both.

Well, it's Christmas day and I just wanted to drop a quick note to wish everyone a Merry one and hope that Santa's been good to all of you. My day's been pretty uneventful, but then, this is Camp Arifjan so my expectations were pretty low anyway. :)

Got to sleep in until 0930, woke up & went and got a work out in, ate (a piece of ham & a little bit of mashed potatoes), and came in to work. Worked on the change of command ceremony itinerary that's coming up here in the next week & a half and called the family. (Thanks to Eileen for transferring me out to the in-laws' house when the morale minder wasn't working for me!) Everyone's up and getting ready to open up some presents. I know Santa's been good to my little stinkers, Maddy & Gracie, because they've been SO good for Mommy while I've been over here; I'm sure they're going to love everything they get. And they deserve all of it!

Nothing much else happening -- you know, the usual. I've been studying for my chief's test which is going down on January 18th, so that's been occupying a lot of my time. Gotta make sure I do well on that since this will be the best shot I have at it. And if you don't get a ticket you can't dance at the party, if ya knowhutimean. Got all my tickets punched so this'll be my best chance to make it -- just have to get past that little exam, which shouldn't be a problem. Just hope that Sailor of the Year curse doesn't catch me!

Anyways, I wish all of you a very Merry Christmas and hope that you're enjoying some well-deserved time off with family & friends. Have a great one and drink six or seven for me!

Temptation and G-14 Classified Good News

I get a lot of stuff. Excuse me....we get a lot of stuff! Seems like every day somebody is getting a box filled with fudge, cookies, hard candy, gummy bears, Twizzlers, Skittles, candy bars, etc., and there's no way one human could consume that much sugar (even over a period of several weeks) without ending up with severe indigestion or being issued a set of dentures from Medical after their teeth fall out. If one person isn't getting something, we get a box addressed to "any soldier" from nice people from all over the United States filled with the stuff. And I have to give it up to these people; not only for sending what they do, but for thinking ahead. You see, not only are the boxes filled with a couple hundred-thousand calories worth of candy and sweets, but they also include about sixty-seven toothbrushes and a metric butt-load of toothpaste to go with it. Smart.

I'm really grateful to all of these people for taking the time out of their days (and the money out of their pockets) to send us all this stuff, but as you may or may not know, I've been doing the Body-For-Life diet since November 6th so I haven't been able to partake. (The Twix I'm holding in the above pic is just a prop.) I'm allowed one "free day" a week -- which for me is Sunday -- where I'm allowed to eat and drink whatever I want, but for the other six days I've got to stick to my calorie-counting ways and rigorous work-out schedule. And I've done well thus far: I've dropped 20 pounds in the last six weeks. w00t! Still have about ten pounds to go to get to my target weight, but I've been working hard at it and won't be giving up anytime soon. All the candy and sweets, however, do make for a rather large temptation and I have succumed to it once or twice, but for the most part I've been a good about sticking to the plan.

It's funny -- it's very easy to lose a lot of weight here, but it's also extremely easy to gain a lot of weight, too. Between the 700 calorie steaks at the DFAC and the forty bushels of M&Ms at the office, one can pack on the pounds without even realizing it. I know a couple people who blew up like friggin' blood-ticks after only a few weeks of boots on ground. Crazy.

Anyways, if you're one of the many who have sent us all the good stuff....thank you! It is very much appreciated, even if some of us can't always indulge ourselves.

In other news -- and this is strictly 'Jimmy on the Low-Low' for now -- I may be getting out of here much earlier than expected. If the new Boss coming in picks a new aide-de-camp (which is the norm after a change of command), I could be outta here as early as January 20th. But, sshhhhh.....don't tell anybody. Gotta keep this on the down-low because it's just a possibility; nothing's firm yet. Don't wanna get anybody's hopes up. I'm only posting this here because I know you can keep a secret.

:)

Yay!

Saying Goodbye -- No, not to me...

Well, tonight I'll be taking my former Chief of Staff, Commander Aaron Bresnahan, to Kuwait City International Airport to head home. CDR B and I have worked side-by-side for the last three months working for General Ladnier and I have to say it was interesting. Despite a few flubs and faux pas, we worked together fabulously, and when you spend that much time with someone you get to know them pretty well. Eventually you'll start razzing one another, acquiring little inside jokes that are only funny to you two, and begin to know what the other's thinking in any given situation. And when your number's up and it's time to move on, you walk away with a funny story or two to pass on to the next poor sap who has to put up with you in your next tour. Well, here's my favorite little story about CDR B, which really (and humorously) put into perspective how I fit into the grand scheme here at the CDDOC:

About a month ago we were working on some awards, one of which was his. Knowing that yours truly is pretty handy with the pen, he asked for a little input. Now, being the hard-charging first class petty officer that I am, I had already pre-staged my departing evaluation and postulated that since he and I do very similar jobs, it'd be alright (and still pretty accurate) that he borrow some bullets from my eval for his own award. That was fine with him, so I proceeded to fill the 18 lines allowed with some fifty-dollar words taken from my own evaluation of my own performance. A couple highlights included:

"...exceptionally initiated, managed, and synchronized the daily schedule of numerous general officers, arranging office calls, coordinating military air and ground transportation with joint protocol offices, and ensuring smooth, timely movements between evolutions..."

"...utilizing meticulous time-management and unparalleled ambassadorship to visiting dignitaries and coalition forces, directly contributed to the senior joint leadership maximizing their effectiveness in support of the warfighter during Operations ENDURING FREEDOM and IRAQI FREEDOM..."

I was pretty proud of that. It sounded very important. Very executive. High class. White collar. Not quite 'The Man,' but at least 'The Man Standing Next to The Man,' if nothing else. I handed him my input, beaming. He read it and handed it back.

"I like the words you use, but...", he trailed off in his inimitable CDR B style. He's been known to walk past my desk, ask half a question, and continue walking.

"But what?", I ask.

"Well, it sounds a little too 'Johnny-Butt-Fuck-Carry-My-Bag' for my taste."

{silence}

He qualified that in his follow up, "But it sounds okay for you, though."

Nothing like a little pick-me-up from your boss.

We joked about that for the rest of our time here, calling each other "Johnny" whenever one of us was tasked with something that required zero brainpower and even less effort. So, for his going away present I presented him with "the prestigious and much-coveted aide-de-camp JBFCMB Award," something he could hang with pride on his I-Love-Me Wall. Right below the Employee of the Month certificate he got from Burger King during his sophomore year in high-school, no doubt.

But seriously, I know he didn't mean that personally. I have no delusions about my place in this top-heavy organization and know his job was much more important than mine. And it was good to see this normally reserved, quiet man get in a good laugh, even if it was at my expense, because he didn't seem to get too many of them. CDR B is a meticulous organizer and a bear for detail; the man knows how to get things done, and does his job in an efficient, unassuming way, always sure to cover all the bases and address every detail. I learned a lot from him.

He's the kind of guy you could go on an 18-hour flight with and never have one of those uncomfortable silences. I paid him the greatest compliment I can give someone today -- one I've only given to two other people that I've ever met: He's the best guy to be with when you want to be by yourself. Meaning, you don't have to entertain him, you don't have to make small talk. You can just sit there in silence, mind your own business and do your own thing. That's very refreshing to me. Sometimes I feel like I have to constantly be engaging people; keeping them talking (about whatever) or entertaining them so they don't get bored. I don't know why it is -- maybe it's just me. But he's one of the very few whose company you can enjoy without having to worry about whether or not they're having a good time. I've always appreciated that.

So, CDR B, if you ever read this, thanks. Thanks for your leadership, thanks for the example you set, and thanks for being who you are. I thoroughly enjoyed my time with you and hope you have a very Merry Christmas back home with your family. You've definitely earned it....

...."Johnny."

Boredom begets negativity

You know, I've been thinking -- hey, not too late start something new! -- I've been a little too negative about being over here for Christmas. I've been 'bah-humbuging' and just kinda being a Grinch about the whole deal and I've taken it out on you, my few, but very dear readers. I know it's because I'm bored. When you're bored, you start to think too much -- about things you're missing out on, things you could be doing, who you're missing most...it's just a downward spiral. But I won't digress into that story y'all know so well. I just never really counted my blessings since I've been here and I gotta tell ya, I was surprised. Well, not really surprised (I always knew what I had) but never really took it all in, so to speak. So today I'm just going to take a minute and list a very few of the many things I have to be thankful for:

• First and foremost, my beautiful wife, Amy. She has been an absolute saint about this whole deployment. Sure, she was a bit hesitant when I told her I wanted to go, but she understood why and supported me 110%. She has been a wonderful mother to our two beautiful little girls, has taken on a huge responsibility of being a single parent while I'm gone, taking care of everything back on the homefront (which is almost an overwhelming job on its own), all the while striving to better herself by taking classes and working out. She's taken care of me over here, sending me packages of stuff I like and need almost weekly, and has had a tremendously positive attitude even while I've been gone. I can't even begin to describe how much she means to me and how her love and support has enabled me to do my best over here. I love her so much -- I just don't have the words. Thank you for being who you are and loving me in spite of my many, many shortcomings, sweetheart. You make me want to be a better man for you and our girls.
• My "Little Punkins." I'm so thankful to have such a beautiful, smart, funny, talented, charming, and energetic pair of girls that sometimes I can't even believe I'm their Daddy. It just isn't enough to say I love them -- I adore my Maddy & Gracie Kate. They are my little stinkers and I thank God every day that he's allowed Amy & I to have these two wonderful little souls to raise. They are truly my own personal miracle.
• Mom, Dad, Suzanne, Mark & Emily. My parents & brother & sisters have been an absolute joy. Sure, we've had our turn getting lost in Dysfunction Junction, but the fact remains that they are my blood and they've been there for me through thick & thin. Every one of them mean the world to me and I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for the wonderful people they are individually and what they've been to me collectively. I'm so proud to call them my family. I am indeed a lucky man. Lucky to have such a sweet mother who did such a good job raising me to be a compassionate man but to always stick to my guns; lucky to have a father who worked so hard to provide for all us kids and taught me the meaning and importance of a good work ethic; lucky to have such an outspoken, loving sister who, even though I'm older, I still look up to; lucky to have a successful, caring brother who's always there when I need him; and lucky to have such a funny, talented sister who, when you're around her, always makes you feel like you're the star in your own movie. I have been truly blessed.
• My in-laws. Brad, Carol & Josh -- you can't really put a price on good in-laws. It makes a marriage so much easier. (Not that I would know otherwise.) But to say Brad, Carol & Josh are merely good wouldn't cut it, either. They're phenomenal people. To enjoy your spouse's family is a pretty rare commodity in this day and age, and I'm one lucky SOB to have sweet talked my way into theirs. I'm very thankful that they allowed me to marry their daughter.
• My friends. Tim, "I'm Eric Holiman, bitch!", Carlos, Dan & Jill, Barry & Leisa, Ray, Sam & Peggy, Morgan, Stewie, Bally, Drew, Langer, Jacob, Larsen, Gary, Joe, Todd, Strip, D.J., Eileen, Babs, Shannon, Nicole, Joey, Leslie, Tyrone, Denny, Steff, Mike, Cheri C., Misty, Robin, Jenny, Jason, Kinesha and many, many more that have done so much for me and meant so much to me over these past few months and over these last few years. I'm a better person having met and become friends with all of these people. These good peeps have enriched my life immeasurably and I'm a better person for having had the privilege of becoming friends with them. They say you're lucky if you have eight close friends in your entire lifetime...well, I can honestly say I've doubled that and then some.
• My bosses. Todd, number one, because the man has bent over backwards to help me out personally and professionally. He's gone the extra mile to help me become a better petty officer and hopefully, a good chief someday. Master Chief Flanary (Durant now, I guess -- congrats, Tom!) and Senior Chief Humphrey, both of whom have had my back since the git-go and have gone to bat for me on numerous occasions. They have hooked a brother up. And last, but certainly not least, LCDR Kile, who (along with his wife, Mimi) have made this deployment more bearable for both Amy and myself by taking care of me professionally and by helping Amy cope with our separation. These people are the very personification of leadership and, were it not for the fact that I still currently work for them, would be counted amongst my friends as well. They have taught me a lot and I'm thankful to have such professionalism and leadership to look to for guidance. (And I don't mean all this in an Eddie Haskel sort of way, either. My eval's already signed! w00t!)
• My Navy. Yes, I said My Navy. I know it's cheesy and cliched, but I don't really give a shit. I love the Navy. It's taught me a lot about myself and it's taught me a lot about other people. Plus, it's given me a steady paycheck for twelve years! But seriously, the Navy is a great organization with a rich heritage and a noble purpose. I'm proud to be a part of it.
• My neighbors. Sure, it's Wisteria Lane with all the girls huddled on the streetcorner gossiping all the time, but while it can be disturbing in it's content it's somehow comforting in its predictability. You can always count on Joey to be heading out to play in the next big (football, softball, golf...pick one) game, Jason & Brian in one of their garages welding/building/tinkering with their next big project, Cale wandering the streets with Abby looking for the houses with garage doors cracked with people inside smoking doobies, and Amy, Andrea, Leslie, Christy & Kerri outside, margaritas or beer in hand, whispering about who broke the bottles in the street during the party across the way the night before. I'm so glad we moved to the neighborhood we did because each and every one of these young families are interesting, nice, and different in their own ways that make them endearingly unique. They've taken care of and watched out for Amy & the girls while I've been gone and have been almost like a surrogate family. What a great bunch.
• Finally, my country. I'm thankful that we care enough about people to fight for them so they can live in freedom. I'm thankful that those sent over to fight and support the war aren't forgotten by those we serve to protect. I'm thankful that not only are we the most powerful country in the world, we're also the most generous country in the world. I'm thankful that we have a President who stands up for what he believes in and has the cajones to see it through to the end, even if that means some of us have to miss out on being home for the holidays. Bottom line: I'm thankful to be an American.

Well, that's a mouthful. But just know that if you're reading this that I'm thankful for you, too. Thankful for your support, thankful for your taking the time to read all these meandering thoughts, and most of all, thankful for your friendship. Happy Holidays!

I'm good enough, I'm smart enough...

...and goll darnit! People like me!

Last night I got to meet Al Franken, the guy who played Stuart Smalley on SNL back in the day. Yeah, I don't care much for his politics -- he's an ultra-left-wing liberal -- but he cares enough to come visit us out here in the desert during the holidays, so he's okay in my book. Him, a couple Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders, some model that was on the cover of FHM Magazine about a year ago, and a few country singers whose names I can't remember came out and put on a show a did a little autograph signing for us. It was pretty cool.

Felt kinda bad for one of the country singers there. The only one any of us (pictured at right: CDR Aaron Bresnahan, me, CDR Kurt Wendelken, the model chick and Al) were interested in meeting was Al Franken, so once we got our pic taken and shook his hand we were pretty much outta there. But there was a country singer to CDR B's right (who's cropped out of the pic) who was sitting there and he leaned over while we were BS'in after the pic, not paying any attention to him, who said, "Hey buu-ddy, want mah pic-ture, too?" So, of course we had to take it. Poor bastard. Sucks going to a place and nobody knows who the hell you're supposed to be.

Not much else to report except....75 days and I'm gone! Woo-hoo!!

Edit: The unknown singer in question was Darryl Worley. Sorry if I was supposed to know that.

Another American Idol

Well, I probably told y'all about how I met Kelly Clarkson at last year's "Texas Thunder" Air Show at NAS JRB Fort Worth. Remember? She took a ride with one of the Blue Angels and blew chunks about three times? Yeah, when she came off the plane she wasn't lookin' too hot. And her butt's a lot bigger in real life. But she was still kinda cute in an interstate-offramp kinda way.

Today Carrie Underwood showed up in Kuwait and did a little meet & greet with all the soldiers, sailors, Marines & airmen here at Camp Arifjan. I guess she's doing a bit of a tour. So of course there was a big line to meet her and get autographs and whatnot. I was going to buy her CD and have her autograph it and give it to Amy as a Christmas present -- Amy loves that song of her's "Jesus Take the Wheel," and I kinda like it, too -- but they ran out of them at the BX. Guess everybody hurried up and made a mad dash for her album as soon as they found out she was coming.

Anyways, I didn't get an autograph, but I got a pic with her. That was the highlight of my day today, but it looked a bit like she put her makeup on with a butter knife. And please! Somebody feed that girl! She could hula-hoop with a Cheerio she's so skinny. Cuter than Kelly, though.

But....BUT!!

Not nearly as beautiful as my wife! I love you, Amy!

How The Left Stole Christmas

I need to add that I didn't write this myself -- somebody sent it to me in one of those forever-forwarded emails. I just thought it was funny...

~ Matt

Twas the month before Christmas
When all through our land,
Not a Christian was praying
Nor taking a stand.

See the PC Police
had taken away --
The reason for Christmas?
no one could say.

The children were told by their schools not to sing,
About Shepherds and Wise Men and Angels and things.

It might hurt people's feelings, the teachers would say
December 25th is just a "Holiday".

Yet the shoppers were ready with cash, checks and credit
Pushing folks down to the floor just to get it!

CDs from Madonna, an X BOX, an I-pod
Something was changing, yes -- something quite odd!

Retailers promoted Ramadan and Kwanzaa
In hopes to sell books by Franken & Fonda.

As Targets were hanging their trees upside down
At Lowe's the word Christmas - was nowhere to be found.

At K-Mart and Staples and Penney's and Sears
You won't hear the word Christmas; it won't touch your ears.

Inclusive, sensitive, Di-ver-si-ty
Are words that were used to intimidate me.

Now Daschle, Now Darden, Now Sharpton, Wolf Blitzen
On Boxer, on Rather, on Kerry, on Clinton!

At the top of the Senate, there arose such a clatter
To eliminate Jesus, in all public matter.

And we spoke not a word, as they took away our faith.
Forbidden to speak of salvation and grace.

The true Gift of Christmas was exchanged and discarded
The reason for the season: stopped before it started.

So as you celebrate "Winter Break" under your "Dream Tree"
Sipping your Starbucks, listen to me.

Choose your words carefully, choose what you say
Shout MERRY CHRISTMAS, not Happy Holiday!

Sailors belong on ships

Well, it's finally December and I have to admit, the time is flying. In about three short months from today I'll be on a plane heading back to the ol' U.S. of A. They've been playing holiday music on AFN (Armed Forces Network) radio lately and I gotta tell ya, this ain't Christmas to me, Jack. Stuck in the middle of the desert listening to Bing Crosby just doesn't quite bring out that festive spirit for some reason. I hate to sound like I'm complaining all the time, but being stuck here during the holidays blows chunks. Didn't get to help Amy put up the lights, didn't get to decorate the tree, won't get to see The Stinkers open up their presents, and didn't even get the chance to remind Amy that the nativity set she just had to have (and that gets put out once a year for three weeks) cost more than the chess table I had to beg for. At least if I was deployed on a ship I'd feel like I was doing something productive, but as it is I just feel like I'm missing out. Bah, humbug.

While we're nowhere near the subject...

In other news, the Pope is on his way to Turkey to meet with Islamic clerics and spread the good message of dialogue and "brotherhood" to the Muslims. I suppose this is his pennance for putting his foot in his mouth a few months ago with his statement that Mohammed's teachings were "evil and inhuman." It's political. It's gotta be. If it's not, I don't understand why he bothers. Who cares if the Muslims and the Catholics don't get along, so long as they're not strapping a dozen bricks of C4 to their chests during mass? I mean, c'mon. Don't both religions -- deep down -- believe those who don't subscribe to their respective faiths are gonna burn in hell anyway? Since these people get all worked up over semantics, it seems to me that would be the bigger insult.

Why did the Muslims get so upset with Big Benedict about what he said anyway? All they'd have had to do is turn around and say, "Yeah, well, Ben? You're going to hell for that. Dirka, dirka, blah lah la." Can you imagine the outrage that would've followed if they'd have dropped the H-bomb on the Pope? Freaky. Probably would've blown a few minds to think about where those other priestly pederasts were headed after their convictions, too.

Anyways, gotta run. Preps, ya know. Might be a couple of big-shots coming to town soon so of course it's DEFCON 1 around here. God forbid someone doesn't get their door opened or their ass wiped. Catch ya later.

We should be so lucky...

Last night I read about a group of Muslims who were escorted off a plane at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport (http://www.startribune.com/462/story/826056.html) after some of passengers became alarmed of their "seemingly angry" loud praying and their chanting "Allah, Allah, Allah!" while boarding the aircraft. They were taken off the plane, their luggage inspected by bomb-sniffing dogs, and the airline refused to sell them replacement tickets pending an investigation. No bombs or weapons were found. In response, Muslims are calling on their Islamic bretheren to boycott U.S. Airways.

Now maybe these Muslims were just really into their prayers. Being a little boisterous. Filled with "The Spirit," and all that. Maybe those passengers on that particular U.S. Airways flight, its flight attendants, and the pilots just completely mistook these Muslims genuinely expressing their devotion to Allah as a sign of potential violence. The evidence (or lack thereof) found certainly indicates that's the case. After all they didn't have any knives, bombs, guns or even one box-cutter among them.

But considering their behavior, I'd have kicked their asses off the plane in a New York minute.

"To practice your faith and pray is a crime in America?" asked Omar Shahin, one of the Muslim imans voted off the island.

Well, Omar, no. It's not a crime. If it were, you'd be in jail right now. However, considering America's recent history -- the last five years or so? -- how appropriate do you think it is for a group of Muslims to come onboard chanting "Allah" over and over while boarding a plane? No, we're not discriminating, we're just calling a spade a spade. When you consider that in the last twenty-five years nearly every single instance of in-flight hijacking has been the brainchild of and carried out by people of Middle Eastern decent, it ceases to be "racial profiling" and becomes "an accurate description of the possible suspects." Had you kept your religious beliefs to yourself, nobody would've bothered you. But considering they're still finding bones of 9/11 victims in NYC, your chanting and praying in Arabic made people a little uneasy. Call me crazy.

And the boycott? Please. If we could get all Muslims to stop using our airlines we could get rid of airport security altogether. And you know how many hearts that would break.

More Goodies!

Got another box today. This time it was just the Navy running suit I ordered, but last week was huge for mail. The pic you see here is The Boss and me opening up this fat care package I got from this group of volunteers back home called "Iowa's Bravest." (www.iowasbravest.org) A bunch of people from my hometown get together and send out gift packages to deployed soldiers, sailors, Marines & airmen all over the globe. Good peeps, yo.

They, along with Amy's MOPS group in Fort Worth, Amy, Mom & Suzanne all sent something last week, so I was stacked pretty fat with mail. It was great. Everybody here was jealous. I told 'em not to hate the player...

Just got back from Camp Ali Al Salem. What a shithole. If you want to know what it's like, think back to the last time you were in the desert (or on a beach...pick a sandy area) and saw a few thousand tents lined up all over the place. And then add about five dozen busses being driven by TCNs -- Third Country Nationals: non Kuwaiti, non American Indians (dot, not feather) and other foreigners from places like Pakistan, Turkmenistan, and any other -stan you can imagine -- a few thousand hum-vees, and a few thousand military people all packed into an area of approximately 20 square miles, and you'll have a pretty good idea of what Ali Al Salem is like. I'd drop the ol' "nice place to visit, but..." cliche here, but I'd be a damn liar.

Not much else on the radar for today. Just a hail & farewell for the Navy captain we have leaving in a few days. They planned a real rager, too. Dinner at the Zone 6 ("Tent City") DFAC (that's what the Army calls the galley, by the way), with cake & "near beer." I hope I can contain my excitement.

Half-Way Home

Well, since I'm almost half-way done with my little stint here in this great big litterbox they named Kuwait, I guess it's almost irrelevant for me to be posting this blog this late in the game. But nevertheless, I'll catch you up on all the happenings.

I reported to the United States Central Command Deployment and Distribution Operations Center -- but we just call it the CDDOC -- on September 11, 2006. Our official mission here goes a little something like this:

U.S. Central Command Deployment and Distribution Operations Center (CENTCOM DDOC) is a forward deployed 65-person joint division of the J4 Directorate of Central Command. Comprised primarily of NCOs and senior officers, the rolls include Soldiers, Sailors, Marines, Airmen and civilians to include representation from the Active, Reserve and National Guard components from all branches.

Established on 17 January 2004 through a charter among General Abizaid, General Handy, and General Kern, the mission of the CENTCOM DDOC is to synchronize and optimize distribution, force movement, and sustainment throughout the CENTCOM theater. From the factory to the fighting position, CENTCOM DDOC exists to support the warfighters engaging the enemy in Operations ENDURING FREEDOM and IRAQI FREEDOM.

What it boils down to is that we're an under-employed bunch of people from all branches of service desperately looking for something to validate the reason we left our family & friends back home.

I was originally slated to be just an admin NCO, but applied to become Aide-de-Camp for the CDDOC Director (a general selected for two-stars) and got it. I was initially excited because I was operating under the assumption that I'd be busy most of the time. How wrong I was. You see, the aide keeping busy is pretty much contingent upon the general traveling, of which mine does little. However, I've (thus far) been to Baghdad, Iraq and Qatar, so things haven't been entirely dead.

Other than a little travel and handling some minor joint admin issues, I'm pretty much just "the gopher" -- as an E-6, I'm the second lowest ranking person in the CDDOC; second only to an Air Force Staff Sergeant -- for the general and anyone else who needs anything. Let me tell you how much fun that is. Woo. Hoo.

Anyways, here's where I'll be posting pics, telling you how much I'm doing (or not doing, as the case usually is), and jotting down some random thoughts. Hopefully I'll keep up with it. Lord knows I've got the time.