If he truly believed the lyrics in his song “Imagine” then John Lennon was a coward. Imagine there’s no Heaven, it’s easy if you try. No hell below us, above us only sky… Nothing to kill or die for and no religion too… Imagine all possessions; I wonder if you can no need for greed or hunger, a brotherhood of man… What a wimp. He might as well not have been born. What’s the point in living? I’m not saying that greed or hunger or killings are good things, but there really doesn’t seem to be any reason to live in his imagined world. What would be your motivation for anything? I’m grateful to live and to realize that some things are in fact worth dying for, such as the freedoms guaranteed by our Constitution and the Bill of Rights.
I recall reading “A Brave New World” in high school in which society has “evolved” to a point where people are controlled by drugs, mixing that with sensual pleasures and creating classes of society by selective genetic engineering. The parallels between the book, the song and what we’re currently experiencing as a Nation are enough to raise some eyebrows. I don’t believe that President Obama intends to destroy the free market, Capitalism, or the Republic under which we were founded (acknowledging the fact that we’ve since shifted more towards a democracy). I do believe that in his effort to do something noble and worthy, he’s in danger of doing just that. While I don’t believe to be an expert in much of what is going on in Washington or the faults or merits of every piece of legislation which is brought before the Congress, I do try to be well read on the issues. Being removed from the country has caused me to do more research than normal on the health care issue.
President Obama’s statement that the recently passes bill ensures “the core principle that everybody should have some basic security when it comes to their health care” makes me slightly uncomfortable. While I don’t believe that people should have to go without basic healthcare and that it should be affordable, I don’t think that the federal government needs to, or should ever get involved in something like that.
A wise and frugal government, which shall leave men free to regulate their own pursuits of industry and improvement, and shall not take from the mouth of labor the bread it has earned - this is the sum of good government.- Thomas Jefferson
I don’t like the idea of if I work hard and become wealthy, then I will be singled out and taxed because of my work ethic, smart decisions and to a degree, luck. Is it an appropriate time to bring out the flat tax argument? I know that people don’t choose to be poor, my closest friend struggled his whole life against the bonds of poverty, and I know it hasn’t been easy in the least. Health issues, lack of jobs and education among other things affect some people more so than others. To be penalized for not having health insurance, to restrict my choice of what I want to pay for, it just feels wrong. Is it unconstitutional to require people to have health insurance or pay a fine? They can require auto insurance for people who drive because you have a choice to drive or not, but you don’t really have a choice to be alive. Well yes you do, but we’re assuming the majority of people have some sense of self worth and are in decent mental health.
I wonder how all this will turn out. As far as I can see, it’s going to increase our national debt (if you didn’t know, the Chinese already OWN EVERYTHING) regardless of how much it promises to reduce costs in the future. How do you increase the amount of people covered while reducing costs? Lower quality of care? I hope that this doesn’t end up like Social Security, a good idea, just poorly thought out. The smart way for that would have been to just eat the up-front cost to provide for the older generation when it was passed, and then have each rising generation pay into their own accounts. Oh, and have the Federal government stop dipping into that pool of money for other things. We should take a look at how the President tried to shove this through, and why, since he's all about debating and bringing everyone together...
On a happier note, I ran in a 10k this morning! I came in 25th out of 149, with a time of 47:15; 2 females beat me, which is really awesome that they can run that fast! And one of them is 42, amazing. The theme for the race was Al Asad: Worst Beach Ever, All Sand, No Water”. It was a pretty crazy course, steep inclines on gravel roads, declines, more inclines. I swear one of the inclines was a ¾ mile stretch at a 15% or 20% grade. Oh and I started figuring out this whole Roth IRA thing. I thought that if you opened one up and dumped money into it, that was it. After 4 months of having it sit in the account and only earning $1.52, I was slightly frustrated. Turns out you have to actually figure out what you want to plug the cash into! So I did some research, picked one and I’ve made almost $37 in 3 days! Now that makes me happier.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Look out Al Asad!
Wow it’s been a while since I last wrote. I should probably give an update as to what I’ve been up to and how everything has been going. Shortly after my last post, my boss went on his two week vacation, and I moved out to Al Asad in the western deserts of Iraq. It’s a large base in terms of square miles, but population wise it’s rather small. It has more scenery than Taji does. We’re in a wadi, a dried up river bed, there are date trees all over the place. We have a stadium and a patch of desert where all the abandoned MiG fighter planes were left. MiGs are the Russian’s fighter planes and a lot of Middle Eastern countries had close ties to the Soviets in opposition to the USA’s ties with Israel. All that however is a different post. We’ve had 3 major sand storms since I’ve been here. One of them was at night while we were having Institute. We were discussing the dust of the earth, when the dust of the earth was pounding at the doors and windows trying to get inside. By the end of the lesson the room was smoky with dust. When we walked outside we found the storm had blotted out any remaining light that would have been left by night. Between those two things you couldn’t even see your hand when you stuck it out in front of your face.
It’s easy to realize just how fortunate I am over here. I don’t have any bills; the room I live in for free is bigger than the one I was paying to live in back in Salt Lake. I work about 50 feet away from where I live, I’m fed 3 times a day, well let me rephrase that. I have the chance to eat 3 times a day; the food is a couple steps down from what we had in Taji. It’s hard to live without Chicken Sandwich Monday. I can Skype with most people who want to do that, or I can chat online. My section has a trailblazer that we get to run around in when we don’t feel like walking. Life is good.
But life kind of sucks when you don’t have anyone to share it with. My unit deployed with just over 300 people, and we’re going to head back with just under half that. We’ve had people leave to go to other units to work. My boss’s boss did that. And since we’ve moved out to Al Asad our job here in country has shrunk considerably. We had a lot of people sitting around doing nothing, so we’ve been sending people home early. It’s harder than I expected it to be, watching almost everyone else go home. All but one of my friends have gone, and he’s slated to leave early next month. But I’ll be home soon enough, so no worries. It’s easy to get anxious.
I have been so busy since I moved to Al Asad. My boss went on his 2 week vacation, and his boss left to work for another unit. Guess who woke up one morning and realized that he was suddenly in charge? That’s right. Dang. I went from focusing solely on one aspect of things, to being expected to have knowledge about everything that was going on in not only my section, but also the sections that my boss’s boss was in charge of. Even though we went from having control and management of about 40 units down to about 3, the staff went from 18 people to just me. It was a bit stressful to say the least! I worked very hard, and tried my best to catch up with everything. I think it took me about 3 weeks to really get my feet under me. I had to plan out how my unit was going to move from Al Asad back to Texas. I was totally overwhelmed!
I came quite close to having a vacation myself when I first got to Al Asad. There’s a program for the troops over here that lets us go to Qatar for a few days and there’s stuff for us to do down there. Just a little get away really. I had begged to get a slot for that trip, and I finally got one! I was so excited about it! Sadly, two days before I was supposed to leave it was “suggested” that I not go because there was quite a bit going on still with the planning to get everyone and everything home. I had two people trained up to cover for me while I was gone, but it was deemed not the best choice for me to go. That was a huge let down. Once my boss finally got back and out to Al Asad, a month after I had last seen him, he tried to get another pass to Qatar for me but failed. He then told me that he’d let me take off for a week or so and wander the country as I pleased. I had my transportation guys set up flights for me for whenever and wherever I wanted to go so instead of flying stand by, I would have a reservation wherever I went. But the same guy who suggested that I not go to Qatar nixed those plans. Well we had some equipment that needed to be escorted to Kuwait! I was told I would be the escort for it, and that I could just take my sweet time getting back. Ha-ha go figure, but yesterday we found out that it doesn’t need to go to Kuwait after all. Dang it!
It seems that I won’t be going anywhere. Something tells me that if history proves anything, I’ll be surprised if I make it back to Utah with everyone else! But life has calmed down a good bit for the time being. It’s a relief to not have to work 12 hour days 6 days a week and have a 3 hour break on Sundays. While I wasn’t the only person assigned to my staff during that time, I was the only one who I could count on doing things correctly. I’m really looking forward to heading home! I finally talked Kelly into moving out to Utah with me! So I’ve taken care of my roommate situation! I’m way excited about it. It’ll be nice to get home.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Guns!
I've noticed recently, and this isn't the first time, that when I'm walking around with my M4 aka Molly, that I feel a sense of power and invulnerability. Maybe it's slightly compounded with the whole Warrant Officer thing and nobody really knows what they're supposed to do with us, but it's kinda cool. I watch people walk by me and nervously stare at the rank on my chest or on my hat, tying to make out what exactly my rank is. The faint hint of recognition flashes across their eyes, but it's drowned out by what to do with their knowledge. I just have to chuckle a bit as I walk past people who look totally confused by me. And often it's when they're a half step past me does it finally hits them that they're supposed to salute me. I get a lot of salutes to my back mixed with cuss words of realization.
But back to the gun thing. It's going to suck going back to the States and not be able to carry Molly around with me. There's just something about such a visible sign of authority. It's a silent advertisement of "Yes, with this I can reach out and easily tag you from up to 300 meters". Not that I would ever do that unnecessarily, but just knowing in the back of my head that I can protect myself and my guys is a good feeling. It will be different going back home and being without that one thing I've carried around almost continuously since I left last July.
But back to the gun thing. It's going to suck going back to the States and not be able to carry Molly around with me. There's just something about such a visible sign of authority. It's a silent advertisement of "Yes, with this I can reach out and easily tag you from up to 300 meters". Not that I would ever do that unnecessarily, but just knowing in the back of my head that I can protect myself and my guys is a good feeling. It will be different going back home and being without that one thing I've carried around almost continuously since I left last July.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Sex and Chocolate
A friend recently told me that after sex, chocolate is the next hardest thing to resist. I wonder if this has any relation to my sudden intake of chocolate this past month.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Late night wonderings
I wonder why it is I have a harder time falling asleep when I’m alone. I realized this after my roommate Danny went home on his R&R leave on Saturday. I tried to avoid going to bed that night, and on Sunday night I didn’t go to bed till after 1am. I woke up several times, and finally woke up well before my usual time. I didn’t think about this till last night as I lay awake, but I had a really hard time sleeping the summer before last when I was gone for the whole summer for Army classes. I would be gone for weeks and weeks at a time, living in hotels and various rooms all over the country, all by myself. For the longest time I thought it was being in a strange place or the beds being uncomfortable, but now I think it’s because I was alone. Granted I’ve slept alone in rooms for years, espically recently, but the majority of my life I’ve had one or more roommate. From my brother when I was young to Basic Training, to Kuwait in 2003 with a tent full of other people and no privacy, to having roommates in college, I don’t really have a whole lot of privacy. Anyway, I don’t know why I brought that up, I just wondered why it is I have a hard time falling asleep when I’m alone.
Here’s an exert from an email I wrote to a friend about my thoughts recently. I was talking with one of my friends who recently broke up with her fiancé, and we were discussing how nice it was that when you were feeling bad or down, to get a hug or something. She made the comment that "touch heals hurt". I got to thinking that after D and I broke up, I didn’t really feel like I had the chance to “heal” like I usually did, and so I struggled a lot. And when D started dating someone else, even though I knew that eventually she would, it still hit me hard. While I was talking with my friend, and when she made her comment a light came on in my head. That I had always dealt with hurt in just one way, which wasn't necessarily bad in itself, but I'm over here, hurting, and I know that I just can't keep hurting. I have to heal somehow. D’s dating someone else, regardless of how serious it may or may not be proved to be a catalyst and an indicator that I really needed to do something. So deprived of my normal "healing" how could I heal myself? In pondering that it occurred to me, that this whole situation of me being over here was a huge test. It’s a test of how faithful will I be in keeping my covenants, how valiant will I be? I found this quote by the First Presidency back in WWII regarding military service which really touched me quite deeply.
"To our young men who go into service, no matter whom they serve or where, we say live clean, keep the commandments of the Lord, pray to Him constantly to preserve you in truth and righteousness, live as you pray, and then whatever betides you the Lord will be with you and nothing will happen to you that will not be to the honor and glory of God and to your salvation and exaltation. There will come into your hearts from the living of the pure life you pray for a joy that will pass your powers of expression or understanding. The Lord will be always near you; He will comfort you; you will feel His presence in the hour of your greatest tribulation; He will guard and protect you to the full extent that accords with His all-wise purpose. Then, when the conflict is over and you return to your homes, having lived the righteous life, how great will be your happiness—whether you be of the victors or of the vanquished—that you have lived as the Lord commanded. You will return so disciplined in righteousness that thereafter all Satan's wiles and stratagems will leave you untouched. Your faith and testimony will be strong beyond breaking. You will be looked up to and revered as having passed through the fiery furnace of trial and temptation and come forth unharmed. Your brethren will look to you for counsel, support, and guidance. You will be the anchors to which thereafter the youth of Zion will moor their faith in man."
I realized that my being over here is a test. It's a chance for me to solidify my testimony. When I was first over here in 2003 I was upset that I couldn't go on a mission, and I really struggled with that fact. I still do occasionally. I've been told that there are many types of missions, and that my service was a type of mission. Well I didn't see it that way really. That was just something nice to say, much like when I was asking about the temple, and people would just say "it's wonderful, or it's beautiful". It’s dawned on me that being over here IS my mission. I may not gain the knowledge that comes with preaching the Gospel every day and being totally devoted to the Lord's service, but I can build the foundation that one gains on their mission. I was focusing on the wrong blessings of serving a mission. I wanted the knowledge, the doctrine, but I really should have been seeking after the strength of a testimony gained through obedience. So what does all this have to do with "touch heals hurt"? That while it IS true that touch can heal hurt, there are some hurts that it can't being to heal. Those have to be turned over to the Savior. I lack the knowledge of exactly HOW to do that or apply the atonement (if it is applicable) to my situation. But I do know that the Lord can do anything, and we have to ask for it, with faith. There are things in my life that I need to improve. In the past few weeks I've done poorly on praying and reading my scriptures. I haven't made the Gospel the focus it needs to be.
Anyway, so this test is something that I'm becoming more and more resolute in not failing. The first time I was over here I got maybe a C-, probably a D, I don't know what I'll get this time, but it's going to be much better, and it won't be for lack of effort. Not anymore. I need to humble myself, make goals, and carry them out. I need to not be lukewarm, or inconsistent in my efforts. I still wish I could get a hug though. And it's funny, just a few hours before I made this realization and reflection, a girl from my unit emailed me and kinda came onto me a bit. She's attractive and whatever, and told me that I have a gorgeous smile. But I know enough that there aren't too many single people over here who make "just friends" with the opposite sex. So I wrote her back a very cordial and professional reply and told her to have a nice day. So no worries. She's not going to come anywhere near me. I've come too far and worked too hard to fail like that again. It just made me smile to realize that Satan really is after me!
Here’s an exert from an email I wrote to a friend about my thoughts recently. I was talking with one of my friends who recently broke up with her fiancé, and we were discussing how nice it was that when you were feeling bad or down, to get a hug or something. She made the comment that "touch heals hurt". I got to thinking that after D and I broke up, I didn’t really feel like I had the chance to “heal” like I usually did, and so I struggled a lot. And when D started dating someone else, even though I knew that eventually she would, it still hit me hard. While I was talking with my friend, and when she made her comment a light came on in my head. That I had always dealt with hurt in just one way, which wasn't necessarily bad in itself, but I'm over here, hurting, and I know that I just can't keep hurting. I have to heal somehow. D’s dating someone else, regardless of how serious it may or may not be proved to be a catalyst and an indicator that I really needed to do something. So deprived of my normal "healing" how could I heal myself? In pondering that it occurred to me, that this whole situation of me being over here was a huge test. It’s a test of how faithful will I be in keeping my covenants, how valiant will I be? I found this quote by the First Presidency back in WWII regarding military service which really touched me quite deeply.
"To our young men who go into service, no matter whom they serve or where, we say live clean, keep the commandments of the Lord, pray to Him constantly to preserve you in truth and righteousness, live as you pray, and then whatever betides you the Lord will be with you and nothing will happen to you that will not be to the honor and glory of God and to your salvation and exaltation. There will come into your hearts from the living of the pure life you pray for a joy that will pass your powers of expression or understanding. The Lord will be always near you; He will comfort you; you will feel His presence in the hour of your greatest tribulation; He will guard and protect you to the full extent that accords with His all-wise purpose. Then, when the conflict is over and you return to your homes, having lived the righteous life, how great will be your happiness—whether you be of the victors or of the vanquished—that you have lived as the Lord commanded. You will return so disciplined in righteousness that thereafter all Satan's wiles and stratagems will leave you untouched. Your faith and testimony will be strong beyond breaking. You will be looked up to and revered as having passed through the fiery furnace of trial and temptation and come forth unharmed. Your brethren will look to you for counsel, support, and guidance. You will be the anchors to which thereafter the youth of Zion will moor their faith in man."
I realized that my being over here is a test. It's a chance for me to solidify my testimony. When I was first over here in 2003 I was upset that I couldn't go on a mission, and I really struggled with that fact. I still do occasionally. I've been told that there are many types of missions, and that my service was a type of mission. Well I didn't see it that way really. That was just something nice to say, much like when I was asking about the temple, and people would just say "it's wonderful, or it's beautiful". It’s dawned on me that being over here IS my mission. I may not gain the knowledge that comes with preaching the Gospel every day and being totally devoted to the Lord's service, but I can build the foundation that one gains on their mission. I was focusing on the wrong blessings of serving a mission. I wanted the knowledge, the doctrine, but I really should have been seeking after the strength of a testimony gained through obedience. So what does all this have to do with "touch heals hurt"? That while it IS true that touch can heal hurt, there are some hurts that it can't being to heal. Those have to be turned over to the Savior. I lack the knowledge of exactly HOW to do that or apply the atonement (if it is applicable) to my situation. But I do know that the Lord can do anything, and we have to ask for it, with faith. There are things in my life that I need to improve. In the past few weeks I've done poorly on praying and reading my scriptures. I haven't made the Gospel the focus it needs to be.
Anyway, so this test is something that I'm becoming more and more resolute in not failing. The first time I was over here I got maybe a C-, probably a D, I don't know what I'll get this time, but it's going to be much better, and it won't be for lack of effort. Not anymore. I need to humble myself, make goals, and carry them out. I need to not be lukewarm, or inconsistent in my efforts. I still wish I could get a hug though. And it's funny, just a few hours before I made this realization and reflection, a girl from my unit emailed me and kinda came onto me a bit. She's attractive and whatever, and told me that I have a gorgeous smile. But I know enough that there aren't too many single people over here who make "just friends" with the opposite sex. So I wrote her back a very cordial and professional reply and told her to have a nice day. So no worries. She's not going to come anywhere near me. I've come too far and worked too hard to fail like that again. It just made me smile to realize that Satan really is after me!
Monday, November 30, 2009
Quotes and songs
The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we’ve lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we’ve found each other. And maybe each time, we’ve been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a good-bye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.
When I look at you, I see your beauty and grace and know they have grown stronger with every life you have lived. And I know I have spent every life before this one searching for you. Not someone like you, but you, your soul and mine must always come together. And then, for a reason neither of us understands, we’ve been forced to say good-bye.
I would love to tell you that everything will work out for us, and I promise to do all I can to make sure it does. But if we never meet again and this is truly good-bye, I know we will see each other again in another life. We will find each other again, and maybe the stars will have changed, and we will not only love each other in that time, but for all the times we’ve had before. –The Notebook
A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself. Joseph Campbell
Stained- So far away
Chris daughtry, Home
Avril Lavigne I miss you
When I look at you, I see your beauty and grace and know they have grown stronger with every life you have lived. And I know I have spent every life before this one searching for you. Not someone like you, but you, your soul and mine must always come together. And then, for a reason neither of us understands, we’ve been forced to say good-bye.
I would love to tell you that everything will work out for us, and I promise to do all I can to make sure it does. But if we never meet again and this is truly good-bye, I know we will see each other again in another life. We will find each other again, and maybe the stars will have changed, and we will not only love each other in that time, but for all the times we’ve had before. –The Notebook
A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself. Joseph Campbell
Stained- So far away
Chris daughtry, Home
Avril Lavigne I miss you
A long and rambling blog
Ok ok fine, I’ll blog. But only because you’ve asked me nicely. And so many times. I’m sitting in my CHU (containerize housing unit) which has 4 walls, a door and a window. I’ve got a night stand, bed with mattress, a wardrobe for all my clothes and what possessions I brought with me. I have a great roommate, internet that works most of the time and allows me to do most of what I’d like to do online. I’m sitting on the plush rug that I bought, staring at a 42 inch tv (don’t ask how we got it and I won’t have to lie, and we’re going to be getting like 12 channels here in a few days) with bottles of Gatorade and cookies sent by various friends, wondering if I should turn the AC warmer. I live like 75 feet from a trailer that has running hot water and semi sanitary toilets. I get to take hot showers, for as long as I want, everyday. Someone even cleans the showers and toilets, everyday! I can have my laundry washed and folded for me, all I have to do is take it out of my bag and put it away! I go to a chow hall that’s about 100 yards away from where I live. The food there isn’t the greatest, but there’s a large variety to choose from. To drink they have every type of Gatorade, soda or juice you can think of. They feed us 3 times a day, 4 if you want to get up for midnight chow. Even if you miss the 3 hour window for each meal, they’ve got a room in the back that will give you whatever kind of sandwich you want, 24 hours a day. They have 6 flavors of Baskin Robbins ice cream, cheese cake of every type, cakes, pies, cookies, and fresh fruit. I’ve had watermelon for breakfast, lunch or dinner almost every day since I’ve been here. I work about 250 yards away from where I live, I’ve got two computers for what I do, with 3 screens. I have a staff of 2 other guys who do whatever I tell them to. On my desk I’ve got a phone that I can call back to the States, free, whenever I want. They have a movie theater here that plays about 6 movies a week, and a swimming pool. I’m not sure how many gyms we have here, like 6 or 7, most of them within walking distance. We’ve got a store that sells every type of junk imaginable if you want to pay the cost. And a Burger King, something like a Starbucks and Cinnabon, Subway and a Pizza Hut knock off. I get to go to church every week for the full 2 hours, and we have an institute class on Thursday nights. Someone emails me to tell me when I’ve gotten a package or letter. I deal with maybe 10 people for work, and they all are really cool for the most part. I get to sit at my desk, with my bottled water and Gatorade and whatever junk that I’ve nicked from the chow hall (usually Pop tarts or muffins) to go along with my morning hot chocolate.
I have to attend meetings, track equipment, and fill out powerpoint presentations, my information gets briefed to the commanding general every day, and unfortunately, he’s starting to ask questions about what I’m sending up. Honestly I could put whatever I wanted on a slide and nobody but me would know if its true or not. I try and explain my job to other people, and they just get confused. I was confused about it too, until I had to do it everyday for the past month. Now it’s easy. My days are often the same as the one previous to it. Sunday and Monday are the only ones that are different. Sunday I don’t have to go to work till 1, then I leave to walk to church at 130, get back from that at 430, and if I can finish my reports, I’m off by 5. Not a bad day. Mondays are different because that’s the day we all pile into our ghetto van, a 15 passenger van with the rear window boarded up because a helo picked up a rock with its rotor-wash and busted it out. That means a helicopter landed near it and a rock was blown away and broke the window. Anyway, we all get into our van, drive to the other side of the base, and attend what we call “Chicken Sandwich Monday”. For lunch every Monday the chow hall on the other side of the base serves phenomenal chicken sandwiches that everyone here knows about. It’s pretty much the highlight of our work week.
I don’t know exactly why I told you all that. I guess I just don’t want anyone to have misconceptions about what its like and what it is I’m specifically doing over here. I realize that there’s a larger picture to all this, and my unit is directly supporting it, but for me, I play an extremely small role. There are days that I think to myself, “I could stay over here for the rest of my life, earning easy money, avoiding any real responsibility like getting married or raising a family”. I really have everything a human being needs to survive. If I could visit my friends and family occasionally, perhaps be on the same schedule as they are, instead of 10 hours ahead of them, it might not be a bad idea…
I think I’ve had a mental shift this past month. It started on Veterans Day I believe. I got all sorts of emails and stuff from people back home saying thanks for my service and everything. I’ve long since realized that people, upon finding out I’m in the Army, will thank me for my service and sacrifice. I know that they want to express their gratitude to the Armed Forces in general. To be honest, if we all lived around an Army, Naval or Marine base, instead of Hill Air Force Base, we’d have a different view of the military. We’d still appreciate the Armed Forces of course, but our perspective would be different. I’m not about to make a comparison to say that one branch is better than another, but just ponder how it would affect the community that we live in. Navy, Marine and Army families are used to their service member being gone for long periods of time just for training. Air Force, eh not so much. Deployments, Army is usually 12-18 months away, Navy is frequently gone for 6-8 month rotations as a standard, Marines are only gone 7 months, but they usually have the harshest conditions and are placed in slightly more hazardous situations than your average Army person. The Air Force? 6 months in Qatar is their standard. Qatar is where the rest of us go for a 4 day pass, to get a mental vacation, away from Iraq. Think of the effect the lengths of time these deployments have on a family, on a community. Its so different. I have never been comfortable with people coming to me to show their appreciation for the Armed Forces. I was at Sea World with Jason this past spring and at one point they asked everyone who was, or had been in the Service to stand up. I hate things like these, but I grudgingly stood up. I realize that people want something to focus their appreciation on. For me, what I do with the Army is something that I have difficulty explaining. I don’t do it for the thanks of others, for the college money, or the prestige. Not even because some girls think a guy in uniform is irresistible. I do it because I feel it’s the right thing to do. Because I don’t want anyone else to have to go through it, or deal with anything like what I have to deal with.
Not that I’m saying being over here is hard, as I pointed out earlier, I’ve got it better than most of you when it comes to living conditions. The feeling of disconnect, the artificial life that I’ve seemed to have been placed into, is the hardest thing. I talk to my family only slightly less than what I normally would, and some of my friends get to chat with me everyday via gmail. Technology is amazing in what it lets us do. I woke up the other day and had a face to face conversation with a friend of mine who was sitting in her living room. Despite all the things that we have to keep in touch with our families and friends back home, email, skype, phones, there is still the prevailing feeling of disconnect.
When I left Utah, as our names were called off as to what bus to get on to go to the airport, I felt weird. And I wasn’t the only person feeling that way I could tell. I was alone, as were a few others there, in a sea of people and emotions. I was standing by myself as I watched families separating tearfully and unwillingly. It broke my heart as I watched little kids screaming for their daddies and mommies to come back to them as their names were called out. Spouses and parents cried, hugging and kissing each other. I stood there and watched all of it. I was alone. I had had someone there for a while, a friend who stood awkwardly and self consciously of the couples around us embracing and fitting in those last few minutes of affection. She left quickly. I’m not sure if it was because she was so tired, running on perhaps only 3 hours of sleep and had a long drive and day of work in front of her, or perhaps she wanted to get away from what seemed the appropriate thing to do to someone you loved when they were leaving for a far off land. Maybe I was the one who turned and walked away first, to spare her the stress of the situation that I could see in her eyes, or because I wanted to get started on this journey so I could hurry up and get it over with. Did I look back? I’m sure I did. Sitting in Texas for those long months prior to coming over here, and upon hearing of the shooting and deaths of several people I had interacted with there in Texas; made me reflect upon my life, and what on earth would I do if I died. Other than be dead that is. A pervading principle of my life, via my religion and upbringing, is progression. One cannot grow, progress, in solitude. And I was standing in the parking lot alone.
I’m not advertising to get married or whatever. Nor am I neglecting the fact that I have many, many good and dear friends who miss me every day and pray and hope for my safety and quick return. I can’t begin to tell you all how grateful and mindful I am of each of you who are thinking of me. I miss each of you as well, and I can’t wait to come home and see you again. I wonder though, how has your life changed since I left? You cannot deny that it hasn’t changed. In some aspects, you’ve moved on past me, in ways that you wouldn’t have if I were still there. I place a great deal of worth on the relationships that I have with other people. Probably more so than I really ought to. The distance, and knowledge that people would move on without me, progress in their own right without me, was the thing that scared me more than anything else about coming over here. You could take away all my comforts that I first described, and I would consider it no more difficult than I do now.
This probably only makes sense in my own head, so bear with me. The last time I was over here in 2003, ice was the big comfort thing, the huge luxury. For some reason, I realized that having ice in my water wouldn’t make me feel any better about being gone. So I never got any ice in my water, I left it for people who would appreciate it, and I think it caused more problems than it solved. My relationships didn’t grow or wane depending on if I had ice in my water or not… Does that make any sense? Maybe if you come back and read this at 3am it might.
So if you insist, as some of you have, on sending me something for Christmas or whatever, send me a picture with something written on the back of it, send me a letter telling me about your life and what you’ve been up to. Tell me your thoughts, hopes and dreams. What are your plans and desires? What do you fear, how are you going to conquer them? I’m not asking for anything personal that you wouldn’t normally share with me, and I certainly don’t wish to pry into your life more than you wish to share. I guess I’m just trying to say after all this rambling, is the best gift for me, is to be involved in your lives, and still be someone you count as a friend. And cookies.
I have to attend meetings, track equipment, and fill out powerpoint presentations, my information gets briefed to the commanding general every day, and unfortunately, he’s starting to ask questions about what I’m sending up. Honestly I could put whatever I wanted on a slide and nobody but me would know if its true or not. I try and explain my job to other people, and they just get confused. I was confused about it too, until I had to do it everyday for the past month. Now it’s easy. My days are often the same as the one previous to it. Sunday and Monday are the only ones that are different. Sunday I don’t have to go to work till 1, then I leave to walk to church at 130, get back from that at 430, and if I can finish my reports, I’m off by 5. Not a bad day. Mondays are different because that’s the day we all pile into our ghetto van, a 15 passenger van with the rear window boarded up because a helo picked up a rock with its rotor-wash and busted it out. That means a helicopter landed near it and a rock was blown away and broke the window. Anyway, we all get into our van, drive to the other side of the base, and attend what we call “Chicken Sandwich Monday”. For lunch every Monday the chow hall on the other side of the base serves phenomenal chicken sandwiches that everyone here knows about. It’s pretty much the highlight of our work week.
I don’t know exactly why I told you all that. I guess I just don’t want anyone to have misconceptions about what its like and what it is I’m specifically doing over here. I realize that there’s a larger picture to all this, and my unit is directly supporting it, but for me, I play an extremely small role. There are days that I think to myself, “I could stay over here for the rest of my life, earning easy money, avoiding any real responsibility like getting married or raising a family”. I really have everything a human being needs to survive. If I could visit my friends and family occasionally, perhaps be on the same schedule as they are, instead of 10 hours ahead of them, it might not be a bad idea…
I think I’ve had a mental shift this past month. It started on Veterans Day I believe. I got all sorts of emails and stuff from people back home saying thanks for my service and everything. I’ve long since realized that people, upon finding out I’m in the Army, will thank me for my service and sacrifice. I know that they want to express their gratitude to the Armed Forces in general. To be honest, if we all lived around an Army, Naval or Marine base, instead of Hill Air Force Base, we’d have a different view of the military. We’d still appreciate the Armed Forces of course, but our perspective would be different. I’m not about to make a comparison to say that one branch is better than another, but just ponder how it would affect the community that we live in. Navy, Marine and Army families are used to their service member being gone for long periods of time just for training. Air Force, eh not so much. Deployments, Army is usually 12-18 months away, Navy is frequently gone for 6-8 month rotations as a standard, Marines are only gone 7 months, but they usually have the harshest conditions and are placed in slightly more hazardous situations than your average Army person. The Air Force? 6 months in Qatar is their standard. Qatar is where the rest of us go for a 4 day pass, to get a mental vacation, away from Iraq. Think of the effect the lengths of time these deployments have on a family, on a community. Its so different. I have never been comfortable with people coming to me to show their appreciation for the Armed Forces. I was at Sea World with Jason this past spring and at one point they asked everyone who was, or had been in the Service to stand up. I hate things like these, but I grudgingly stood up. I realize that people want something to focus their appreciation on. For me, what I do with the Army is something that I have difficulty explaining. I don’t do it for the thanks of others, for the college money, or the prestige. Not even because some girls think a guy in uniform is irresistible. I do it because I feel it’s the right thing to do. Because I don’t want anyone else to have to go through it, or deal with anything like what I have to deal with.
Not that I’m saying being over here is hard, as I pointed out earlier, I’ve got it better than most of you when it comes to living conditions. The feeling of disconnect, the artificial life that I’ve seemed to have been placed into, is the hardest thing. I talk to my family only slightly less than what I normally would, and some of my friends get to chat with me everyday via gmail. Technology is amazing in what it lets us do. I woke up the other day and had a face to face conversation with a friend of mine who was sitting in her living room. Despite all the things that we have to keep in touch with our families and friends back home, email, skype, phones, there is still the prevailing feeling of disconnect.
When I left Utah, as our names were called off as to what bus to get on to go to the airport, I felt weird. And I wasn’t the only person feeling that way I could tell. I was alone, as were a few others there, in a sea of people and emotions. I was standing by myself as I watched families separating tearfully and unwillingly. It broke my heart as I watched little kids screaming for their daddies and mommies to come back to them as their names were called out. Spouses and parents cried, hugging and kissing each other. I stood there and watched all of it. I was alone. I had had someone there for a while, a friend who stood awkwardly and self consciously of the couples around us embracing and fitting in those last few minutes of affection. She left quickly. I’m not sure if it was because she was so tired, running on perhaps only 3 hours of sleep and had a long drive and day of work in front of her, or perhaps she wanted to get away from what seemed the appropriate thing to do to someone you loved when they were leaving for a far off land. Maybe I was the one who turned and walked away first, to spare her the stress of the situation that I could see in her eyes, or because I wanted to get started on this journey so I could hurry up and get it over with. Did I look back? I’m sure I did. Sitting in Texas for those long months prior to coming over here, and upon hearing of the shooting and deaths of several people I had interacted with there in Texas; made me reflect upon my life, and what on earth would I do if I died. Other than be dead that is. A pervading principle of my life, via my religion and upbringing, is progression. One cannot grow, progress, in solitude. And I was standing in the parking lot alone.
I’m not advertising to get married or whatever. Nor am I neglecting the fact that I have many, many good and dear friends who miss me every day and pray and hope for my safety and quick return. I can’t begin to tell you all how grateful and mindful I am of each of you who are thinking of me. I miss each of you as well, and I can’t wait to come home and see you again. I wonder though, how has your life changed since I left? You cannot deny that it hasn’t changed. In some aspects, you’ve moved on past me, in ways that you wouldn’t have if I were still there. I place a great deal of worth on the relationships that I have with other people. Probably more so than I really ought to. The distance, and knowledge that people would move on without me, progress in their own right without me, was the thing that scared me more than anything else about coming over here. You could take away all my comforts that I first described, and I would consider it no more difficult than I do now.
This probably only makes sense in my own head, so bear with me. The last time I was over here in 2003, ice was the big comfort thing, the huge luxury. For some reason, I realized that having ice in my water wouldn’t make me feel any better about being gone. So I never got any ice in my water, I left it for people who would appreciate it, and I think it caused more problems than it solved. My relationships didn’t grow or wane depending on if I had ice in my water or not… Does that make any sense? Maybe if you come back and read this at 3am it might.
So if you insist, as some of you have, on sending me something for Christmas or whatever, send me a picture with something written on the back of it, send me a letter telling me about your life and what you’ve been up to. Tell me your thoughts, hopes and dreams. What are your plans and desires? What do you fear, how are you going to conquer them? I’m not asking for anything personal that you wouldn’t normally share with me, and I certainly don’t wish to pry into your life more than you wish to share. I guess I’m just trying to say after all this rambling, is the best gift for me, is to be involved in your lives, and still be someone you count as a friend. And cookies.
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