Neither Snow Nor Rain Nor Heat Nor Gloom of Night...

As of today I am officially a member of the United States Postal Service. This means no more offenders hanging on my legs asking retarded questions they already know the answers to. This means no more 0230 brown-eye exams. No more nocturnal ass-blasts as I'm doing bunk checks. And last, but definately not least, no more living paycheck to paycheck on a paltry state salary.

Hopefully within 9 months to a year I will be making the equivalent Lieutenant's pay at the prison without having to spend ten years in that gloomy hellhole. That means about a 44.5% increase from what I was making there.

But enough about that. As everyone knows, it is the tax season and as I like having my money more than I like the government having my money I have already filed my return which came out to nearly $2500. It's great having kids. I'm think of having another one just for that extra bit of cash come January. Now the elusive iPod is finally within my grasp and my wife will finally get her new bed set. Credit card bills? What are those?

In other news, the infamous Doomsday Clock has moved up another 2 minutes to 11:55, the closest we have been to Armageddon since 1988 when the United States and the USSR signed a treaty to "eliminate intermediate-range nuclear forces", which set the clock back 3 minutes. This all seems pretty arbitrary to me. Either they should take the batteries out so we don't have to worry about it anymore, or wind it up to midnight and get it all over with. It's bad enough that we're on constant Yellow Alert, I don't need that damn incessant ticking too. It's driving me freakin' nuts.

Thoughts of the day:

"Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds." - Herodotus

"One of the illusions of life is that the present hour is not the critical, decisive hour. Write it on your heart that every day is the best day of the year. No man has learned anything rightly, until he knows that every day is Doomsday" - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Still In Kandahar

Today is my one year anniversary of being out of the Marine Corps. I would would guess that every war veteran, at some point in their life, actually misses being in a combat zone. I don't mean that they miss actual combat with all the killing and having friends die, but the small things that make such a life unique. Maybe it's just me. I doubt it though.

I miss the adrenaline rush that comes from an incoming mortar or rocket (you can tell the difference by the sound). I miss the absurd pranks that take place in the barracks area. I miss everybody gathering around a guitar and singing horribly even though nobody has had a thing to drink for months. I miss watching women run by in their Under Armour t-shirts and silky green PT shorts. I miss the late night spades games. I miss being on the boat and having steak every other night and then going to Afghanistan, a land-locked country, and having shrimp, lobster, and crab legs every weekend. I miss the jingle trucks. I miss the thoop! of Romanian mortars. I miss throwing rocks into the perimeter minefield hoping to set something off (we never did). I miss doing grease jobs with Lenny. I miss arguing with some slimy French bastard about a table in the coffee shop. But I think that most of all I miss the feeling of camaraderie that only comes in a situation such as war. When the guy that you think is a major asshole back in the States is the same guy who you may be having to trust with your life in the desert, and you are ok with that.

There are times that I think to myself, If they asked me to, I would go back. But then I go home and look at my daughter sprawled asleep on the bed and my wife curled up next to her and I realize that never in a million years would I do it again. Not for all the camaraderie in the world. So to all you soldiers, sailors, airmen and especially Marines still over there, keep your heads down, stay safe, and come home to your families too. Come back to where you belong.

Thoughts of the day:

"That strange feeling we had in the war. Have you found anything in your lives since to equal it in strength? A sort of splendid carelessness it was, holding us together." - Noel Coward

"It is well that war is so terrible, or we should grow too fond of it." - Robert E. Lee

Veteran's Day

Today is my first Veteran's Day as a civilian and I gotta admit it feels kinda weird. Here is a brief overview of my short military career:

I enlisted in the Marine Corps as Military Occupational Specialty (MOS) 26XX, Signals Intelligence and Ground Electronic Warfare, on December 12, 2000. After completing boot camp in San Diego, California, I went to Marine Combat Training (MCT) in Camp Pendleton. During the final days of MCT we were told what our actual MOS was to be. I was hoping for MOS 2676, which would be a Russian Cryptologic Linguist. I was told I was going to be a MOS 2672 - Arabic Cryptologic Linguist. I went to the Defense Language Institute in Monterey, California, to start the basic Arabic course. Being in a party town like Monterey, I did not focus enough on my studies and was flunked out of the course. Instead of putting me in another language or another 26XX field with my TS-SCI security clearance, the Corps in its infinite wisdom, decided to make me an MOS 6112, CH-46 Helicopter Mechanic.

I soon received orders to MCAS New River, Jacksonville, North Carolina, where I was to report to HMT-204 FREST for training as a Phrog mechanic. I completed the training at the top of my class and became a fleet Marine on August 6, 2002, when I joined my first squadron HMM-266, The Fighting Griffins. My first deployment was in October of that year when we went to Camp Dawson, West Virginia, so the pilots could practice terrain (TERF) and night vision goggle (NVG) flight. Soon after we returned from Camp Dawson, we started work-ups for 22d Marine Expeditionary Unit (MEU). Elements of three other squadrons, HMH-461, HML/A-167, and VMA-542 joined the squadron to become HMM-266 (REIN). After completing Training in an Urban Environment Exercise (TRUEX), Expeditionary Strike Group Exercise (ESGEX), and Special Operations Capable Exercise (SOCEX), 22d MEU (SOC) shipped out of Norfolk, Virginia on February 20, 2004 aboard USS Wasp (LHD-1), USS Whidbey Island (LSD-41), and the USS Shreveport (LPD-12). I was aboard the USS Wasp.

After a brief visit to the island nation of Malta, we participated in the Amphibious Landing Exercise (PHIBLEX) 04-5 off the coast of Albania March 8th-12th. On April 14th HMM-266 arrived in Kandahar, Afghanistan, for Operation Enduring Freedom (OEF-A) and set up shop. It was hot, dirty and hot. Operations came fast and we worked hard to keep up. On May 7th we had our only fatality of the deployment when Cpl. Ronald Payne Jr. of BLT 1/6 was killed during a firefight with Taliban insurgents. The MEU's efforts in Afghanistan were called "the most successful military operation since Operation ENDURING FREEDOM began" by Army bigwigs. By August 18th we were back on the boats and on our way home. We had a port call in Tarragona, Spain, and then it was on to Rota, Spain, for washdown and agricultural inspection. On September 16, 2004, we were finally home.

In November I transferred to HMM-264, the Black Knights and in December we left for MCAS Yuma, Yuma, Arizona to participate in a training exercise called Desert Talon. In February of '05 I was back in the mix when the squadron left for Iraq to participate Operation Iraqi Freedom (OIF) 04-06 where the squadron flew a record breaking amount of hours and had unparalleled aircraft readiness percentages. We returned home on August 26, 2005.

When the squadron returned home we were placed on standby for Hurricane Katrina relief, but that order never came. My 5 year enlistment with the Marine Corps quietly ended on December 10, 2005.

After being in for more than 1/5th of my life I am kind of at a loss as to what to do next. Sure, I have the G.I. Bill, but where am I supposed to make time to go to school? I can use a V.A. Loan to buy a house, but as of right now my credit is shot and I am in relatively low paying job. Not to mention my wife doesn't work because anything that she would make would go directly into child care. There are times that I miss being in the Marines. I especially miss early mornings on the flightline at New River right before the sunrise. Standing amongst the rows of silent machines watching the sun rise really made me feel like I was part of something. That is a feeling that is going to be hard to replace...

In memory of Cpl. Ronald Payne Jr., 23, KIA, 05/08/2004, near Tawara, Afghanistan - Semper Fi, you won't be forgotten!

Thought of the day:

"But fame is theirs - and future days
On pillar'd brass shall tell their praise;
Shall tell - when cold neglect is dead -
'These for their country fought and bled.'"
- Philip Freneau

Laughter, The Best Addiction

Enough with the moody shit, ok? I'm tired of you all bringing me down. Today has been a rather weird day. I think somebody slipped some crack into my string cheese. Don't ask me how or why that is possible, it just is. Ok? Ok. It all started today when I almost died because this slow bastard two cars in front of me wouldn't speed up so I could squeeze past a semi in the merge lane. Ok, so I was already doing 50 in a 35, but that's not important. Actually none of this is. It just really pissed me off so I laid on the horn which succeeded in nothing but pissing me off even more. Then I started laughing. I don't know why. I just did. What's with all the questions? It wasn't just regular laughing, it was crazy, psychotic, I-just-murdered-your-87-year-old-grandmother-and-painted-the-diningroom-chairs-with-her-blood type of laughter. Just kidding. It was just a little chuckle to myself, but it set the mood for the rest of the day.

My own personal hilarity continued at work when Shelly, who is one of the best people you could ever dream of working with, showed up with what were supposed to be auburn highlights in her hair. Oh yeah, it was on like Donkey Kong from that point on. Not from me though. I am a gentleman after all. Ok, I made a "pinkish" comment, so sue me. Once we got down to the unit is when the fun really started. Soon after our arrival came, "Did you dye your hair pink?" from an inmate. I could see tendrils of steam starting to rise from her Shelly's ears. That was followed shortly by, "I like your strawberry highlights," from a guy who obviously has an infatuation with my coworker (which was cause for more laughter on my part). Later, from yet another inmate, came, "Why your hair purple?", followed quickly by a "I mean, that's cool. That your hair is purple. You're like punk-rock or something...I'm gonna leave now." Which was probably about the smartest thing that this person had said up to this point. Shelly was about to reach critical mass but that didn't stop me from rolling on the floor with laughter on the inside. After that the word must have spread on Inmate.com not to mention her hair because there were no more comments from anybody else. Ok, I had to make a comment about how well her hair went with her dark purple eyeliner, but isn't that what are friends for? It didn't take long for us all to start laughing about it.

The conversation eventually turned to another coworker of ours named Bradley. To put it nicely, Brad is not a team player. Because of this he has been given the nickname of Blue Falcon, which, as all you military people out there know, is code for "buddy fucker". What makes this totally awesome is the fact that his initials actually are B.F. Whenever a conversation about the Falcon comes up, it inevitably turns into a discussion about his inherent weirdness and lack of people skills coupled with the Falcon's mating preferences and falcon birdcalls. Somehow this degraded into an in depth study of children's shows such as "The Wonderpets" and their theme of "teamwork". This, of course, led to Shelly and I, who are both parents of toddlers, to singing songs from the show.

I think by now you probably realize that this post is about absolutely nothing, but seriously though, somebody had to have slipped crack into the string cheese, or maybe it was in the yogurt that I stole from the refrigerator. Either way, any hint of professionalism there might have been was out the window and on it's way to Elsewhere. Crack is whack, man. Crack is whack.

Thought of the day:

"The most wasted of all days is one without laughter" - E. E. Cummings

At What Cost This Life?

Two days ago I helped to save a man's life. He had hanged himself with two belts knotted together from the bottom of the stairs on his housing tier at the prison where I work. When Larry, the other officer, and I reached him, I lifted the inmate and and Larry pulled the belt from around his neck. We laid the inmate on the floor and he had no pulse and no breath. Larry and I performed CPR and started his heart and breathing after a couple of minutes. Then the ambulance arrived and the EMT's hauled him off to the emergency room.

This is not the first time that this particular inmate had attempted suicide by hanging. He had tried a month and a half earlier and I happened to be the officer on scene for that one too. For what reason he was back at our facility, I have no idea. The man obviously wanted to die. This was no "cry for help". These attempts were, pardon the term, dead serious. The responsibilities of my job, however, have prevented him from being successful twice. Other factors stemming from this situation are causing me a moral dilemma.

The powers that be have submitted recommendations for Larry and I to receive Lifesaving Medals or "Letters of Appreciation" or something on that order. This is what I am having a problem with: While performing the my duties as a Correctional Officer for the State of Idaho I prevented a man from killing himself. This man, as of the last updates, is now in a vegetative state. Would it not have been better just to let him die? Do I deserve a medal for this? I would rather be dead than a nothing, a shell of a human being. At what point does duty supercede personal choice? Does anybody have an answer to these questions? I sure as hell don't. Somebody help me with this. Please.

Thoughts of the day:

“Suicide is a fundamental human right. This does not mean that it is morally desirable. It only means that society does not have the moral right to interfere” - Thomas Szasz

“There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide.” - Albert Camus

Next To Godliness...Or Something Like That

My wife says I'm messy. Or at least I think she does. I'm never 100% sure about anything she says anymore. She's always saying stuff like, "You could at least pick up her toys instead of just stepping over them?", or "How may times do I have to ask you to put your dirty dishes in the dishwasher? And to rinse them off before you put them in there?" Then there's my all-time favorite: "Why can't you wipe down the toilet when you're done using it? It doesn't clean itself, you know." I know, right? Nag, nag, nag...It's kinda like white noise.

Anyway, the problem is that she's turning my daughter into a Neat Nazi too. It's not like Em isn't totally OCD already or anything, having to wash her hands every five minutes, like after going to the bathroom (what's up with that anyway?). But now she bosses me around like her mom, telling me to change her diapers, or to put my book away, or to wash my hands after I use the bathroom. Today it was dirty socks. We have a pile of shoes next to the boxes in my livingroom. It seemed like a logical place to leave dirty socks. Am I right or am I right? Apparently not. Apparently that is what the dirty clothes basket in the closet is for. Isn't that just a little inconvenient? It started with the wife asking, "Why do you always have to leave your dirty socks lying around everywhere?" (I didn't know the shoe-pile had a name, but it does. That name is Everywhere.) Then from the next room, as if she were being beseiged by an army of stinky crew-length Hanes, comes the exasperated voice of Emma: "DIRTY SOCKS! EVERYWHERE!", followed shortly by a maniacal laugh.

It's not like I am purposely being messy or anything. I am just a little forgetful. Ok, maybe a lot forgetful. But that doesn't change the fact that I do try to help out a little bit. I'll change a diaper every once in a while or empty the dishwasher. I also take out the trash if it's blocking the door when leave for work. Is nothing good enough to please her? Ok, so I do leave my socks Everywhere and I don't pick up Em's toys all the time. She's just going to throw them all over again anyway. And, FYI, the toilet does clean itself. It's always clean when I get home from work.

What do you want from me woman? Tell me. TELL ME!

Thoughts of the day:

"The male is a domestic animal which, if treated with firmness, can be trained to do most things." - Jilly Cooper

"Men live in a fantasy world. I know this because I am one, and I actually receive my mail there." - Scott Adams

Death To Ty Pennington!

I have found new victims on which to focus my inner rage and worldly hate - Ty Pennington and the rest of the "Extreme Makeover: Home Edition" crew. (Yes, Oprah, you can finally take a breath of sweet relief and come out of hiding. For now.) How dare they rape my tear ducts and pilfer my precious optical lubrication? I am a man damnit! It is unfair for you, Ty, to show me a crying mother and a joyous mentally handicapped child and make my eyes water. And that choked up feeling? It just plain sucks. How am I supposed to maintain my manhood when you keep showing communities of hundreds of people pulling together to help underpriveleged families? I mean, when does that ever really happen? Seriously now. And pulling the bus away to reveal the house to an ecstatic family - that's just a low blow.

Let it be known - and this is the only warning that I am going to give - that I am on to you Ty Pennington. I will hunt you down and I will reveal you for what you really are. I will show the world that you are Lucifer incarnate here to strip men of their virility. I will show men everywhere that they will no longer have to worry for their reputation or the risk of dehydration. I'm coming for you, Ty. Your army of do-gooders with their hammers and saws will not be able to stop me. I will find you. You will rue the day you made me cry...I mean...made my eyes water...a little...barely...You're gonna pay!

Thought of the day:

"I have learned two lessons in my life: first, there are no sufficient literary, psychological, or historical answers to human tragedy, only moral ones. Second, just as despair can come to one another only from other human beings, hope, too, can be given to one only by other human beings." - Elie Wiesel

The Centurion

Well, as long as I'm going to do this blog thing, I might as well jump in with both feet. I know, I know, I'm about a century behind everybody else in doing this, but here are my 100 goofy (or maybe not) facts about me:

1. When my mom was in labor with me, she was driven to the hospital in the back of a drug-dealing gangster's pimp-mobile.
2. I once had a Victoria's Secret model tell me she was jealous of my eyelashes.
3. I have been to 12 different countries, none of them were either Mexico or Canada.
4. I once played a practical joke on Geraldo Rivera.
5. I'm semi-ambidextrous.
6. I can count in German.
7. My eyes used to be brown, but now they are mostly green.
8. In my past life I'm pretty sure I was a fighter pilot in WWII, probably flying P-51 Mustangs in Europe. I died.
9. I have one of the highest security clearances in the military (Top Secret-SCI) but have never used it.
10. I used to illegally collect golf balls at the American Falls golf course for candy money.
11. On February 21, 2005, I almost died in Iraq when a rocket hit our fuel dump. The next day I was in Boise, ID, for the death of my father.
12. I have met Clint Eastwood 3 times.
13. I used to go sledding at the golf course where I collected balls.
14. I am a distant cousin of Tom Brokaw.
15. I was the Boise Regional Chess Champion in the 6th grade.
16. I have a birthmark on the tip of my you-know-what.
17. My favorite drink is the Long Island Iced Tea.
18. It drives me nuts when people don't signal their turns.
19. Female soccer players are the sexiest thing in sports.
20. I cannot bend the tip of my right pinky due to a machete accident.
21. I have had silver hairs on my head since I was 15.
22. I am the Eggman.
23. My birthday was on the 37th anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima.
24. When I was 12 I had a testicular torsion.
25. My elbows hyper-extend.
26. School buses and slow drivers are my #1 causes of road rage.
27. I am a geographical genius. There's a plaque in my elementary school to prove it.
28. I am the master of useless knowledge.
29. I hate avocados but I love guacamole. Go figure.
30. Hot sauce is a gift from the gods.
31. I currently own 332 cd's.
32. When I was a kid I thought tigers were the coolest animal ever. I still do.
33. I took three years of Latin in high school and hardly remember any of it.
34. Valonus Amniculi is my real name - in Latin.
35. I am a Marine Corps expert rifleman.
36. I voted for Bush the first time. For this I apologize.
37. I could read by the time I was three and a half. My first book was "The Hobbit".
38. I'm a cuddler.
39. I got my first "girlfriend" by giving her a dollar in 3rd grade. Her name was Nikki. We held hands.
40. My first grade teacher tried to force me to write righthanded - until my mom threatened to hit her.
41. I used to be a telephone surveyor.
42. I have been to NYC but never saw the Empire State Building.
43. My dad once threw my bike and broke it because I wasn't learning how to ride it fast enough. I didn't have another bike for two years.
44. I keep any coin I get minted before 1960.
45. I could live on Asian cuisine.
46. I could live on Italian cuisine.
47. I could live on Mexican cuisine.
48. I would die for a good plate of BBQ ribs.
49. Every year I say I'm going to switch football teams. Every year I stick with Green Bay.
50. I have had sex during an earthquake.
51. My wife and I drove from Boise to Jacksonville, NC, in 2.5 days.
52. When I die I want my ashes thrown off the Bixby Bridge in Big Sur.
53. I prefer brunettes.
54. I'm not racist but I love racial slurs.
55. I have eaten camel.
56. Burnt matches is one of my favorite smells.
57. I have a homemade tattoo on my right ankle that says "FMC" - for the Flightline Muppet Club.
58. Sometimes I really do have Jedi reflexes.
59. I can write my name in Arabic.
60. With a good team, I could completely remove and re-install an engine from a CH-46E Sea Knight helicopter in under 30 minutes.
61. I have a cat named Simian. He has 14 toes.
62. My favorite beer is Yuengling, from America's oldest brewery.
63. I didn't get drunk for the first time until I was 19. Coincidently I got married at 19 too.
64. I have never taken an illegal drug, but if I had my choice it would probably be psilocybin mushrooms.
65. My Marine Corps nickname was "Guido".
66. At one time I drove a silver 2001 VW Beetle. It was called the "Turbo Dome" by my condescending peers.
67. I loved that car.
68. My first car was a '66 Ford F100 pickup which is currently rusting away in my stepmom's driveway.
69. I played DE and TE in school.
70. Although I scored in the 99 percentile in national testing, my final highschool GPA was 2.47.
71. I can't drink Crown Royal anymore.
72. I can't drink Southern Comfort anymore.
73. I plan on going to school to be a pilot, or a lawyer, or a history teacher, or a forensic scientist, or a...
74. More than one person has told me that I should be a stand up comedian.
75. I have a badge.
76. I can disassemble and rebuild an M-16A2 service rifle in under a minute.
77. I have "hobbit feet" which are a constant source of amusement (and disgust) for my wife.
78. I am not a "boob man" or an "ass man", I am a "woman man".
79. I love cemetaries.
80. I can and have chewed a whole roll of Bubble Tape. All at once.
81. WWII is my "favorite war".
82. I didn't cry at the end of "Old Yeller". The dog was rabid. He had to die. Get over it.
83. I did, however, cry at the end of "Saving Private Ryan".
84. Spanish women are the hottest women on earth.
85. I have been through 3 hurricanes.
86. I nearly died in Yellowstone Nat'l Park when my dad almost drove us off a bridge.
87. Clowns don't scare me, but they all should die.
88. I have a psychotic hatred of anything having to do with Oprah.
89. My favorite word is "onomatopoeia".
90. I always wanted an RC plane. I never got one.
91. My oldest cat, Shadow, is 17. I just can't make myself get her put to sleep.
92. When I was 5 I stuffed a lilac pod up my sister's nose and lost it. I thought she was going to die. I also thought I was going to get grounded if she died.
93. I once ate a fly for $25.
94. In my junior year of high school I had a short story published in a literary magazine. I can't remember the name of the magazine or the name of the story.
95. I was named after Waylon Jennings.
96. My earliest memory is of standing in the kitchen watching dust in the sunbeams coming through the window. I was two and a half.
97. George Carlin is my hero.
98. I have read "Lord of the Rings" thirteen times. Every time I catch something new.
99. I am an accomplished cross-stitcher.
100. I started playing chess with my dad when I was 5. I didn't beat him until I was 13.

There, I did it. Finally. Now I have a headache. Where is the Advil?

Thought of the day:

"Autobiography is only to be trusted when it reveals something disgraceful. A man who gives a good account of himself is probably lying, since any life when viewed from the inside is simply a series of defeats." - George Orwell