Your Fill of Awww for the Day

Carrier Air Wing 7 homecoming:


Much more here.

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Li'l Lost Sheepdog Caretaker

That would be moi.

For those who don't know, I drive very little. Since I work from home, I'm rarely out-and-about. The biggest trip each week is the half-hour drive from my home located just off the freeway to the USO at the airport located just off the freeway (real complicated, haha!). Other than that it's the bank, the grocery store, etc.

So, the very best birthday present I got this last week? A Garmin Nuvi.

Really!

Yes, I can get lost on the way to the bank, or the airport, or the salon, or... The joke is that when I lived in a small, Midwestern college town I could get lost driving down across town. Living in Phoenix after that was a dream come true, as almost all the streets were at right angles and so I could visualize the city layout even without a map in front of me.

But seriously, I can both read maps and decipher written directions very well, and I know the standard routes I take regularly. But I stress out about driving because I have no innate sense of direction or visual memory of where I've been. Then I start second-guessing myself, or take a wrong turn or miss an exit because I'm distracted and... I'm sunk.

I habitually allow myself at least 15 minutes' extra drive time to new locations, but even if I don't get lost at least a little bit (which is unusual), I still arrive stressed out from squinting at each road sign and wondering whether or not I reset the secondary odometer after the last turn and maybe I missed the first turn and should I be in the RH lane or does it merge into one lane and and was it supposed to be .2 or 1.2 miles before I turn, and... which street was I supposed to be looking for, again?

So, problem solved! Peace of mind.

And to think there are people out there who actually believe I'm smart... Boy do I have them fooled!

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Reading List

I don't have time to write much, but I wanted to share...

Corporal Dunham and his ship - This is just too much for words.

A crown or the American Army? - Which would you prefer?

Too beautiful to describe - For my friends who fly in the front seat... and those who dream of doing so.

"As the Colonel said on his Twitter site..." - Another sign of the military starting to "get it" in terms of both IO and new media?

A Janitor's 10 Lessons in Leadership - Humbling... and very inspiring.

Volcanos and more! - Incredible pictures from space.

Mortuary NCO - One of the quiet heroes.

Quartermasters - More of those dumb hicks who couldn't do anything but join the military. Ha!

Marines on the Taliban - Reminds me of Greyhawk always telling us not to underestimate the enemy's intelligence and sophistication.

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Dude, Where's My Leg?

I've met some of these guys briefly, but I doubt they remember me. Other of the names are familiar because they're on the Valour-IT roster. But I know them. I know their type.

And I love them. Each and every one of them... the ones who know my name, the ones who don't, the ones I'll never meet,those whose names I've never seen.

I read this article aloud in the USO this morning and laughed so hard I had to lay my head on the desk at times. In other moments my throat suddenly tightened a bit and tears threatened as I tried to explain these special people to a fellow volunteer and talked about some of the wounded warriors I've encountered.

At a restaurant with a friend, Blanchard, now a student at George Washington University, stabbed his prosthetic foot with a steak knife and pretended to howl in pain. At Kings Dominion amusement park, he removed his leg before getting on a suspended roller coaster where riders' feet dangle freely. As the ride coasted to a stop, he started screaming loud enough for those in line to hear: "Do not get on that ride! It'll rip your legs off!"

Murray says laughter helped him keep his "mind off the fact of what an absolutely horrible situation you are in -- how you went from being a big, bad-ass terrorist fighter to having your mother pushing you around in a wheelchair."

I told my fellow volunteer about triple amputee Brian Anderson's "75% off t-shirt," of Chuck's right nut and "half the man I used to be" comments, the guy who joked at Fran O'briens as he held a steak knife aloft ("They're giving us knives?! Don't they know everyone at this table has PTSD?!"), the outrageous slogans I saw handwritten on the protective helmet of a vibrant young Marine missing a huge section his skull and brain ("I'm missing half my brain. What's your excuse?").

And later today I found this in my mailbox: "Seventh Logrolling Title, 1st with a Prosthetic Arm." It wasn't just any contest, but a World Championship.

If by some chance you don't understand why sweet little "Fuzzybear" turns into a ferocious lioness when our military personnel are denigrated, when people act as if the wounded can only be ignored or looked upon with hand-wringing, when pats on the head are passed off as "supportive," then read the links.

There can be no response but admiration and love mixed within the tears... and motivation to do what one can to put a bit more lift under their wings. They're inspirational, not because they have it so hard (they do) and succeed in spite of it (they often do), but because they are proof of the indomitable human spirit, a living lesson for all who struggle and fight, a reminder that regardless of your circumstances, life really is what you make of it.

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Idiocy

Some days I feel like an idiot...

And other days I start to believe that just maybe I've got better judgment and more intelligence than at least 75% of the people I see or read about. Today was one of the latter.

Apparently I--and I'm guessing the three people who read this blog as well--am smarter than the CEO of Associated Press. As Ed Morrissey puts it, "Let’s just call it the Fast Track to AP Irrelevance."

Wow. Just. Wow.

Of course, what I did this morning made me feel like an incompetent nincompoop, so I guess it all balances out to keep me feeling pretty average.

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Captured Soldier

My thoughts? Greyhawk is a very wise man.

It's hard, but he's right.

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Class and Generations

Peter Hitchens notes something interesting in Britain, which has had a very difficult week among those who love and support the British troops. He writes of a funeral procession (scroll down):

But people of my class and generation, the fiftysomething graduates who are thick on the ground in Oxford, were almost entirely absent, though the place was not hard to find, and it was well after the working day’s end. It’s the graduates who sent the soldiers there, of course. But it’s generally the others who go.

I think Hitchens misinterprets, though. He says the fiftysomethings are the policy-makers and implies that since they are not in attendance to honor the fallen, they are unaware of the costs of those policies. But it's impossible to be unaware these days, though willful ignorance of the details is certainly workable. Uncaring is much more likely. Or most likely... unable to cope with their role in it. Which, like a certain class in America who try to pretend our men and women aren't being maimed or killed over there because it harshes their mellow, betrays their possession of a great deal less courage than those they send off to war.

That was one of the things I most admired about President Bush. He cried with grieving families, stood next to the hospital beds of thousands of wounded, and suffered the political consequences of it all without complaint. It wasn't the kind of physical courage required of the soldiers he commanded, but it was the intellectual honesty and emotional courage to live face-to-face with the results.

It sounds like we could use more of his type on both sides of the Pond these days.

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Criminals

Interesting...

"The quick action of the 14th Iraqi Army Division inspires confidence that the criminals who committed this act will be brought to justice," said Maj. Gen. Rick Nash, the commanding U.S. officer in southern Iraq.

The act?

Three American soldiers were killed in Iraq when rockets hit their base outside the southern city of Basra, the U.S. military said Friday.

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Army Problem-solving

A companion to the Marine post awhile back... This time the challenge is how to deal with "diversity":

I’m career military, and I got a survey form that I had to fill out noting the race and gender of the soldiers under my command. My NCO and I both thought it was ridiculous, so we put “Army Green” for everyone’s race and “Soldier” for everyone’s gender. My commander passed it up [the chain of command] without comment. We got an irate call from the EO [equal opportunity] officer demanding that we fill out the form correctly. I just shrugged and told her that I’d put down exactly what I saw, but she was free to categorize my soldiers as she saw fit. The issue was dropped.

Yup. More good, clear, military thinking. ;)

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Sex, Sex, Sex!

Did I get your attention? Good.

I've stumbled across several articles lately about sex, abortion and relationships/marriage. I haven't had the time to write about them in the manner I'd like, so I'm tossing them all out here...

This one especially had an impact. It's ostensibly about a man's evolving thinking on the ethics of abortion as an atheist, but it becomes much, much more. I'm still pondering its implications:

It was the poetic biology of the thing that snared me.

Because I had some medical training, I knew the biology of sexual intercourse pretty well. The man doesn't become a father in the instant of orgasm. Indeed, it may not be for several days, he may not be in the country, he may not even be on the same side of the world when it happens. He becomes a father, but he does so long after the act is completed.

Precisely because the act of sex itself does not create anything, the act itself becomes its own symbol.

That barely scratches the surface of the essay. You'll really want to read the whole thing.

On a level of much less intellectual rigor is this ridiculous article: "In Love? It's Not Enough to Keep a Marriage, Study Finds." Another one of those "d'oh!!!" articles. But what caught my attention was that the headline (once again) didn't reflect the most interesting parts of the article. What a surprise to find out which factors impede a lasting marriage (not!):

It found that a husband who is nine or more years older than his wife is twice as likely to get divorced, as are husbands who get married before they turn 25.

...with one-fifth of couples who have kids before marriage — either from a previous relationship or in the same relationship — having separated compared to just nine percent of couples without children born before marriage.

Women who want children much more than their partners are also more likely to get a divorce.

...some 16 percent of men and women whose parents ever separated or divorced experienced marital separation themselves...

Also, partners who are on their second or third marriage are 90 percent more likely to separate...

I am reminded of a friend who once said that after a certain age (preceded by a great deal of rebellion against the values he'd been raised with), he realized that the "old ways" had lasted so long for a reason: they worked.

In a related vein, this is what Evangelicals and other conservative Christian young people are told as they begin dating seriously:

...Couples who live together before they are engaged have a higher chance of getting divorced than those who wait until they are married to live together, or at least wait until they are engaged. In addition, couples who lived together before engagement and then married, reported a lower satisfaction in their marriages.

Believe it or not, research supports it.

It's such a great thing we're all so open-minded, non-judgmental, and free to pursue whatever our "hearts" desire, isn't it... Score another one for the Old Fogies.

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Ghosts

I haven't spent much time around ships, but this captures something I've sensed even in my limited exposure to the differences between ships active and retired:

...when so much effort and care and design and work goes into building them, seeing them discarded like this is sad. The ports they’ve hit, the places they’ve been, the experiences they’ve seen, the waters they’ve sailed…a ship is an adventure in waiting. When they are alive and the pumps are pumping and the fans are turning and the hydraulics and the engines and the bells and the whistles and the waves and the wind and the sunsets and sunrises and everything - a ship is alive. Seeing them liks this is indeed sad.

Click through to see what he means.

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Flashbacks

I was cleaning out my work email and found a rather old one--from January 20, 2009.

An acquaintance had sent me a collection of YouTube tributes to President Bush. I was busy at the time, but I think another reason I never got around to watching it was because I resented being sent it. I liked President Bush (still do), but I do not like acquaintances making assumptions about my political beliefs/values.

So it sat on in my email for six months... until today. I watched this video and was struck by three things:

1. How long ago that all seems--it's been only six months of President Obama, but it's amazing how easily we've settled into thinking of another president instead of the one we had for eight years. But beyond that, it seems like so long ago because the national focus seems to be so different now...

2. How young and relatively unburdened Bush looks in the early pictures of his presidency. It's extraordinary to look at that light-filled face from early on, now that we're possessed of a full eight years' knowledge of what he would face on both a security and political level... And to see the responsibility and pressure of war and protecting the country bear down on his shoulders and line his face. Would he have had the strength to run for election had he known what success would require of him, how it would change him inside and out?

3. [based mostly on some other, poorer videos included in the email] His humanity shone brighter as the years went by... so many pictures of him embracing and touching people, particularly service members and their families... the very people he was asking to sacrifice in big and small ways, the asking of which was causing his critics to rain down abuse. He wasn't perfect (don't get me started, haha!), but how anyone could doubt his love for America and her people is beyond me.

Then I stumbled across the following, which broke my heart. It reminded me of a horrendous day I had as a first-year music teacher. Over lunch I was verbally assaulted by a colleague in a setting which required me to keep my bearing and not give as good as I got. After it was over, I completely fell apart and sobbed. I pulled myself together (or so I thought) in time for the afternoon class with the 1st graders. Eyes dry but emotions tumbling inside, I opened my mouth to lead vocal warm ups and discovered that the throat and mouth positions required to sing properly were way too close to those of crying; after just a couple notes something shifted almost imperceptibly, but it was enough to result in a knotted throat and instantaneous tears. I stopped and swallowed hard, but repeated attempts to sing ended the same way. Their classroom teacher, who was still standing in the doorway, mercifully figured out what was going on and quickly took the children back to their classroom.

Apparently Bush is made of sterner stuff than I.

With the intro sung as it is here, the prayerfulness of the song becomes crystal clear. You gotta know that as a deeply religious man, President Bush was praying it from the depths of his soul. Beseeching, knowing that so much was dependent upon him and the rest of America's leaders (November 2007).

You couldn't pay me enough to deal with what he did for eight years. Not a chance...

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Roughing It

We've gotten used to seeing our warriors in urban Iraq, living on built-up American bases, or even trudging up and down the mountains of Afghanistan, but these pictures remind me of the beginning of the Iraq war and the long slog through the desert...

This time it's Afghanistan.

They are young. They are brave. And they are ours. In fact, Soldiers' Angels has over 800 of them waiting for adoption.

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Aviation Miscellaneous...

From my favorite aviation blogger...

Via Twitter:

Reason #27 that flying is like sex: It's much better when you don't have to pay for it.

At least that's what I've heard... Personally, that probably explains my hours of giddiness after recently receiving a certain gift certificate.

Related?: Airbags for aircraft. Not that I plan on needing one when I redeem that gift certificate...

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Walking on Water

And here you thought Marines overestimated their prowess and skills...

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Another Must-read

The strange and wonderful trip of a musical instrument...

Soldiers' Angels Germany has more on the story.

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Today's Must-read

A story of brotherhood and heroism in the U.S. Navy at Chosin, 1950: Thomas Hudner and Jesse Leroy Brown.

The fact that his friend hadn't got out of the plane meant one of two things. Either Jesse was too badly hurt to extricate himself, or he was somehow pinned in the wreckage. Without a second thought Lieutenant Hudner prepared to do the wrong thing, because it was the right thing to do.

I assume you'll want to read it all.

[h/t to Maggie--who has her own story about Lieutenant Hudner--for the link]

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Marines Problem-solving

Via the Mudville Gazette...

Marines on the 4th of July were "celebrating" by suffering through their third day traveling on foot in Afghanistan, carrying food, equipment and ammunition on their backs. Conditions were miserable:

The high heat, heavy packs, limited water and three straight days of walking through tough farmland terrain were taking a toll, he said. Several Marines threw up or were dry-heaving from the heat. Three passed out, and other Marines rushed to share the weight and pour water on overheated bodies.

The Marine solution?

"It'd be so great if we took contact. We'd lose so much weight," said Lance Corp. Michael Estrada, 20, of Los Angeles.

Gotta love those Marines! Read it all, as they say.

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Lesson Learned?

I'm no political scientist or strategist, but I can't see Palin choosing to resign the governorship as a political move designed to help her into the White House; saddling herself with the label of quitter after less than three years at the state level seems a lot like political suicide.

I suppose we'll know more soon, but I'm beginning put my money on the idea that she did it because the abuse heaped on her family had just become too much. And that's where it really gets scary...

The sport of leftist blogs for the last week has been derisive, photoshopped pictures of Trig, her infant son with Down Syndrome. And then there was that infamous "joke" of David Letterman about one of her daughters being knocked up by a baseball player. Go back a bit further, and there are even more cases of her children being attacked at a national level.

When I try to picture myself in the position Palin has found herself, I can't imagine continuing to subject a single, teenage-mom daughter, a special needs child, and a precocious and vivacious 8-year-old daughter to that kind of abuse.

With similar thoughts in mind, Jim Gerahty writes,

The lesson that the ruthless corners of the political world will take from the rise, fall, and departure of Sarah Palin [is] that if you attack a politician's children nastily enough and relentlessly enough, you can get anybody to quit.

Or as my mother said to me on this topic, "The thugs are running the country--political, entertainment and media..."

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Notes from the USO

Since I've been accused of being a "Jarhead Doxie" and also occasionally "poaching on Maggie's territory," I figured I'd indulge that characterization (talk about leaving oneself open to snark!) with a repost from my aborted attempt to create a new blog. This was originally posted elsewhere in the end of May."

What is it with Naval Officers? Seriously. And it's not just the pilots...

If I somehow fail to ID them simply by how they walk into the room*, I'll soon have it figured out by how they interact with me. It's like they're programmed to flit: "Ooh, it's female and under 40 years old. Flirt... on!" And then it's smiles and eye contact and teasing, whether they mean it or not.

It's tremendous fun, but it's always surprising--they can't all be like that! I'm surely stereotyping them, but I don't think I've met a single one at the USO who didn't at the very least smile just a bit more when he spoke to me. I'm beginning to think it must be something like a sport for them--something they do to pass the time...

Yes, they're very fun.

Marine recruits are fun too, but in an entirely different kind of way. This week a number of recruits were starting a couple days late. One of them proudly wore a shirt with USMC emblazoned on the front and a large Eagle, Globe & Anchor graphic on the back as he lounged with his soon-to-be brothers near the front desk.

A couple of his fellow recruits came from Marine families and they told him he shouldn't have worn that shirt, told him he'd get "extra attention" for it from the Drill Instructors. He brushed them off with a confident "My recruiter said it's okay."

I couldn't help myself. I blurted out with a laugh, "Yeah, and what did you do to make your recruiter hate you so much?" His buddy from the same town agreed, saying that it was obviously payback for them having eaten all the recruiter's food all the time. But the recruit was unmoved. His fellows and I imprecated him with both jokes and earnest suggestions, but all to no effect. Did he really want to be noticed the first day of Boot Camp? Apparently so...

Wondering if perhaps I'd been making too big a deal of it, I talked to our director, formerly a senior NCO within the recruiting and training command for the Marines. He said there had been some efforts to change things, then promptly picked up his Blackberry. I heard him ask for "Sergeant Major _____" as I gave him privacy and went back to my work.

A few minutes later he strolled past the front desk, Blackberry still clutched to his ear. Mildly exasperated words escape as he passed--something about "off on the wrong foot." He rummaged around in a closet in the back, then walked back across the room holding some white fabric in his hands. Blackberry still attached to his ear, he threw it gently at the recruit without a word and without breaking stride.

I laughed along with everyone else who had seen it happen. The kid unfolded the fabric to find an unadorned t-shirt, then looked at me questioningly. I shrugged, "He obviously thought you could make use of it..."

The errant recruit set it aside and returned to his confident and disinterested air.

Twenty minutes later, the young man had shown no sign of making use of the new shirt. Maybe I'm just soft-hearted, but I decided to make one more effort. "What you do with that shirt is entirely up to you, of course," I told him casually. "But I just wanted to make sure you had enough information to make an informed decision. Do you know anything about the guy who gave you that shirt?"

He didn't. I told him the position the director had held in the Marine Corps until a few months ago. "I asked him whether you really shouldn't be worried about wearing the USMC t-shirt, and his response was to pick up the phone and call the local MCRD's current Command Sergeant Major to check," I said.

Eyes got big. "What did the CSM say?" he asked, displaying a bit less of the easy confidence he'd exhibited before.

"I don't know. But the end result was that he decided to give you that shirt. Food for thought..."

I shrugged and tried to look light and friendly. "Like I said, it's your choice. I just wanted to give you information so that you can make an informed decision."

Five minutes later I turned around and he was wearing the new t-shirt. One of the recruits called out, "He's trying to decide what to do with the other shirt. I say he should just leave it here." Other recruits began to offer their suggestions, demonstrating that they'd already given the kid a well-deserved nickname.

Again, I couldn't resist. I smiled my warmest, most earnest smile. "Well... since you seemed so intent on being noticed, I think you should give it to the DI as a welcome present when he arrives to pick you up. You know, show him how much you appreciate him." The boys just about fell off the couches laughing, including the recruit in question.

Yes, I'm bad... :D

And it's fun!

*There was once this spring when my radar failed me. One afternoon, a dozen or so lieutenant JGs came through in groups of twos and threes. They were not in uniform, but I was surprised that until I saw their IDs I had no idea they were naval officers (which I can usually spot a mile away). Finally two very relaxed and upbeat young men came in, all smiles and friendliness. I immediately pegged them as naval officers and greeted them with, "What is this, LTJG/ENS day at the USO or something?" They informed me that all the other young officers coming through were here for carrier qualifications (first time landing on a carrier).

"Ah ha," I said, "That explains why they I didn't pick up any sense of swagger when they came through the door... they're all nervous. But how come you two are obviously feeling so good?" Turns out they were just there to observe; it was going to be a little while before they had the joy of attempting something a normal human brain would say is impossible/insane. As for me, I was just relieved to see my naval aviator/officer radar wasn't entirely haywire.

And yes, then the two young men--surely a decade my juniors--proceeded to flirt with me. I got brave and blurted out (with a friendly smile), "Tell me, why is it you guys have to flirt with every female that crosses your path? Is it covered in basic flight training or something?" Without skipping a beat, one replied, "Yup. It's required." The other quickly deadpanned, "It's in the Pilot Code. We have to flirt with all the girls."

And then they both just stood there, eyes twinkling, grinning at me.

Of course.

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Interesting...

What I know/understand about men could probably fit in a thimble, but this really struck me...

And then there was my dad, who told me the day of the Sanford news conference something to the effect that ‘you have no idea how easy it is for men to completely lose their minds because of infatuation with women.’

Many sensible and happily-married women say "men are easy," meaning that if you give them respect, loving attention and physical affection... they're all yours.

And I heard someone on a talk show today say that a woman with a husband who is about to stray has an unbelievable amount of power because--unless he's an absolute louse--he wants to make the marriage work and just needs some love: genuine warmth and respect from her and he'll forget anyone else.

Don't know if any of those ideas are true, but they do make me think I could make a lucky guy very happy... ;)

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Lioness Like Me

Well, not really. I'd make a terrible Marine. But we're both "Lionesses"--the spirit resonates...

So the marines in Iraq called these all-female teams (3-5 women) Lionesses. Again, no shortage of volunteers, as female marines, even more than their sisters in the army, were eager to get into the fight.

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