thoughts about life in the military and at home

WestSIDE! (Or, California Knows How to Party)

Mon, 19 Jul 2010 00:57:54 +0900

My thoughts about California are kind of like my thoughts about Wal-Mart. I like and hate it at the same time.

California is crowded. I’ve said this about New York, and I’ll say it again: when you put that many people in a confined space, eventually, they start to get on each other’s nerves. This is never more apparent than when driving on a California freeway. (No, I didn’t shoot anyone ... I don’t have a car anymore, remember?)

California is also expensive. If you’re planning a vacation, you can expect to pay more to do almost everything (compared to doing the exact same things in the south or the midwest.)

But, one of the good things California has going for it is that we have family who live there. (And, when you have family to navigate obstacles for you, the other problems don’t seem so bad.)

We flew from Kansas City to LA to let Taj have fun with his cousins and do the obligatory trip to Mickey-Mouses’ domain.

During the first couple of days, we just enjoyed catching up with family, visiting Disneyland and letting the kids take a dip in the pool. Good times ...

The Land of Oz

Sun, 11 Jul 2010 02:01:31 +0900

After checking out New York, saying goodbye to our home in Jersey and catching up with friends in Maryland, we hit the road toward Topeka. I have a lot of family there, and we needed to put Muna’s car in storage.

I love road trips. I like driving, checking out the sights, and sampling the regionally-specific junk food along the way.

Muna and Taj? Not so much.

Much of Taj’s trip was spent in the back of the wagon playing Playstation, or interrupting us every so often to ask that inevitable question that all children on road trips are obligated to ask ... repeatedly.

We made rest stops in Ohio and St. Louis ... I was hoping we could take in some of the cities’ sights, but all they wanted to do was rest and “hurry up so we can get to Topeka;” because they were “tired of sitting in this car!” (Party poopers ...)

We made it to Topeka with no problems and got to spend some time with my Aunt Pie (yes, that’s a family nickname.) There’s not much to do in Topeka, and that’s the way many Topekans like it. But, in it’s defense, it’s the perfect place to relax and simply do nothing if you’re so inclined. Most of our time in Topeka was spent doing just that, interrupted by the occasional trip to get some more junk food.

Pie was nice enough to agree to watch Muna’s car for three years while we left it in storage there. Our plan was to ditch the car and fly to California, then Washington, before flying to Japan.

Muna doesn’t have the same intense driver-automobile relationship I share with my car. So she had no problems parting ways with her automobile (unlike myself ... I still get misty thinking about it.)

When I asked her to take the picture above, she was like: “Really? It’s not that serious.”

We later caught a flight from Kansas City to Los Angeles, to visit my Aunt Peaches.

Fireworks at the Nation’s Capital

Mon, 5 Jul 2010 08:46:21 +0900

It’s been a good weekend. Saturday I got a chance to visit a good friend.

Then, today, we went to D.C. to see the fireworks display and celebrate our nation’s independence.

I think the vilification of personal fireworks has resulted in fewer families actually lighting fireworks at home, and more people planning on seeing formal fireworks shows (put on by their cities, schools or other organizations.) I know that some places make fireworks illegal, and I think some parents are just fine with not having to pay for fireworks to attend a free show instead.

That’s been us for the past few years. Sadly, Taj hasn’t experienced the joy of lighting fireworks at home. (But, he has seen some great fireworks shows around the world.)

Anyway, on the 4th of July we linked with some good friends in Chantilly (who had the inside scoop on the best place to see the show in D.C.) We loaded up three cars worth of kids and drove into the capitol. We found a place to park (at the D.C.-rrific rate of only $18 for two hours,) then walked to the lawn of the Federal Reserve building. From there we had a decent view of the sky directly above the Washington monument, which appeared to be where the fireworks were lit from.

It was a nice display, with loud explosions that we could feel (as well as see.) Taj and the rest of the kids who came with us were impressed. (That’s our group ... Muna is on the left; Taj is wearing the white shirt in front, amazed.) Best of all, it was FREE!

I asked Taj if he knew about why American celebrated with fireworks on the 4th of July. He answered: “Because of George Washington?”

“Kinda,” I replied.

I told him the basics about America’s youth. (Don’t worry, I told him the innocent 1st grade version. He’ll learn about taxation, Native Americans, slavery and the civil war soon enough ... no need to ruin the moment.) I realized that although he knows he is an American, we had never really talked about being an American. I took that opportunity to instill a little patriotism in him.

Once the show was over, it was a mad dash for everyone to get back to their cars. Although we found it relatively easy to get INTO the city, getting out of D.C. proved to be a stressful experience, as many of the roads were closed off, and pedestrians made moving by car very difficult given the crowded area. It took us a couple of hours just to get out of the city ... not fun, at all.

Still, I’m hoping that Taj gained a new appreciation for the 4th of July. More importantly, I hope he appreciates being one of the lucky few to be born in a first-world country.

Uniform Not Required

Sun, 4 Jul 2010 07:36:24 +0900

As much as we believe serving in the military is a “lifestyle,” the truth is that serving in the military is still a career (or a job, depending on your viewpoint.) And, like most jobs, its employees wear uniforms. (Even corporate business-types wear uniforms ... I would argue that the mandatory suit & tie is just as much a uniform as a pair of overalls or paper hat.)

While in Afghanistan, I wore a uniform (of some type) during the entire deployment. All of my interactions with people were presented behind the view of my Captain bars (or the Air Force official physical fitness uniform.)

I always feel obligated to be “on” when wearing my uniform. I’m not saying that I’m not honest or sincere when dealing with people ... But when I wear my uniform, I’m always thinking about how my actions will be received (and how they influence other’s opinions of officers or public affairs Airmen.) I served this way in Afghanistan for the better part of a year.

I worked with a lot of people during the course of the deployment. But there were only a handful of people that I would consider maintaining a personal friendship with (the type of friendship that is unhampered by what you wear.)

I got a chance to meet up with a one of those friends Saturday. He was a good Airman who decided to leave the Air Force after his stint in the ‘stan. (Can’t say I blame him.)

We only chatted for a few minutes, but I was able get an update on how things have been going with him since leaving the ‘stan.

Since leaving the military, he’s landed a great job and he’s convinced a beautiful woman to marry him. It was a real pleasure to meet with him without the pre-packaging the comes with being in uniform.

After our short meeting, I was reminded of a promise I made to myself while I was still deployed. Looks like I’ll keep that promise.

A Day in New York City

Fri, 2 Jul 2010 11:36:38 +0900

We’re down to our last couple of days in Jersey. We had planned to drive to New York to visit the Statue of Liberty today, but that didn’t work out. I should have Googled it first, because it turns out you can’t just show up and expect to go see the statue!

So, we still went to New York, but we spent the day in downtown New York instead. We drove Muna’s car, since mine was now in storage.

First we went to F.A.O. Schwarz toy store. As far as toy stores go, honestly I wasn’t that impressed.

It wasn’t bad ... I liked the fact that they sold more “classic,” quality toys instead of cheap Asian plastic imports modeled after cartoon characters. I also like that most of the toys were intended to spark imagination and make children use their brains. (Toys today are just battery-operated, flashly-light, loud-sounding things that kids like initially, but get bored with two minutes later. they really didn’t have much of a toy selection.

But, I guess I was just expecting more. The selection was not a large as I expected it would be, given the hype. And, even though the toys were of good quality, I didn’t see any new, “wow” toys.

So, we just went to the second floor to play on “The Big Piano.” (It’s a piano on a floor that you play by walking on it.) I remember it from the Tom Hank’s movie “Big.” (Google it, young’uns!)

After that we began to walk out of the store, expecting that we would leave without purchasing anything.

But then, we saw the “Muppet Whatnot Workshop.” It is a design-your-own-puppet station that let you purchase real Muppets. Even though I know absolutely NOTHING about puppetry, I’ve always been fascinated by the muppets. Whether on Sesame Street, The Muppet Show or any of the Muppet Movies, they’re just fun to watch. So, I jumped at the chance to design one ... Taj and Muna wanted one, too. So we had fun making a Muppet Lee family. Taj made one with a karate uniform, while Muna (who can wear a burlap potato sack and still look good,) made what I would consider to be the most fashionable puppet I’ve ever seen. I went conservative and just chose a guy in a suit. They gave us our new Muppets and we slung them on our back as we walked around New York for the rest of the day.

After that, we gnoshed at a small pizzeria. Taj had an authentic NY slice of chicken pizza. (He was really excited that he could “fold” it.)

We then walked to Times Square and just sat to take in the scene. Folks were lined up to get tickets from the TKTS booth, while others were just seated on the steps facing the avenue. If there were ever a perfect place for “people watching,” Times Square is it. After getting an eyeful of the scene (and an earful from an overly-obnoxious yelling street preacher,) we decided to call it a day. We decided to ride in a cab, just so we could say we rode in a NY Taxi.

Rumor has it that there are actually more taxi cabs in NY than people who own their own cars. Regardless how many cars there are (taxis or otherwise,) they ALL seemed to be on the road while we were trying to get home (evening rush hour.) And, they ALL seemed to be going the same way we were (trying to head south through the Lincoln Tunnel.) It was not pretty. I’ve said it before ... driving in New York is not for the squeamish. I must have come close to being hit several times, and came close to HITTING pedestrians multiple times while trying to drive out of the city.

I don’t live in New York, but I now understand why New Yorkers earn reputations for being a bit rude: when you put that many people in one cramped, overcrowded space, eventually, they’ll start to bump into each other. That can get old after a while.

A fun day, even if we didn’t get to see Lady Liberty.

(For my Facebook readers, Facebook is horrible at displaying pics with their matching blog posts. Please click the “view original post” link below to see pics properly.)

Rotten Auten Gets Married

Mon, 28 Jun 2010 06:12:47 +0900

(For my Facebook readers, Facebook is horrible at displaying pics with their matching blog posts. Please click the “view original post” link below to see pics properly.)

Being in a combat zone was a unique experience. There were lots of days of stress, confusion, boredom and tension. Deployed servicemembers often found ways to deal with the situation ... of course, people dealt with it differently.

Some went to the gym a lot. (Kind of like a prison sentence ... go in a 90-pound weakling, and come out a 175 bench-pressing machine.)

Others played music in their spare time. (For some reason, guitar players are abundant in combat zones ... I guess because drum sets and xylophones are a bit more difficult to carry in a backpack.)

The younger folks immersed themselves in video games. (I always found it funny that we couldn’t get wireless internet at our FOB, but some crafty Soldiers found a way to network multiple XBOXs so they could play Call of Duty.)

Me? I created and updated this website and blog. No matter how crappy my day was, I liked having to think about how I was going to write about it later. Even a bad experience gave me some good material, so I didn’t mind it as much.

I was fortunate enough to work with two young, energetic lieutenants while serving as part of our Provincial Reconstruction Team. Graham “Rotten” Auten and Anthony “Riff-Raff” Raffaele were the driving force behind our team (which was kind of an impressive statement since there were several officers senior to them, including myself, on the team.)

But, the way Rotten Auten and Riff-Raff dealt with being in a combat zone was the way everyone else was SUPPOSED to. They went to work.

A LOT.

While others were thinking of excuses to go to Bagram (to get away from the filth outside the wire,) the lieutenants were working.

When others forgot they were in Afghanistan and were adamant about trying to maintain “office hours” in a combat zone, the lieutenants were WORKING at all hours of the night.

While the “good-idea fairy” was busy trying to do everyone else’s job (and simultaneously sucking at her own,) the lieutenants were working.

You get the idea ... I admired how Rotten and Riff-Raff were the lowest-ranking officers on our team, but served as good examples for everyone (even senior-ranking officers) to follow.

Like most men, when they WEREN’T working, they were talking about their loves back home. The lieutenants and I often swapped “women” stories at night. I shared stories about Muna; Riff-Raff entertained us with stories about Carmen. (I bet that as soon as Muna and Carmen finish reading this sentence, they’ll run to us asking: “WHAT did you tell those guys in Afghanistan about me?”)

But Riff-Raff and I were all ears any time Auten was talking about his fiance’, Jessica. Auten and Jessica became engaged prior to his deploying, and many of his phone calls to her included discussing wedding plans. They planned to be married when he returned.

Riff-Raff and I would listen in on his phone conversations, snickering as he talked with her about seating arrangements, guest lists and other trivial wedding details. Sometimes, we would silently make rude/crude/lewd gestures to see if he could keep a straight face while talking with her on the phone. (Hey, it’s what guys do, okay?) Other times, we would just interrupt their conversation by chiming in with our opinion of their plans (as if we had a say in the matter.)

That’s how Rotten Auten got through the ‘stan ... working hard and planning his wedding. And, just by the rest of us listening to them talk, their wedding became OUR special event. It was as if we ALL had something to look forward to when our time in the ‘stan was done.

Graham Auten married Jessica Kinley 26 June, in a ceremony that I assume had all the glitz, glamour and flare that was the result of those many late-night conversations we heard him having. Mission Accomplished. I was really sad that Muna and I weren’t able to make it, but were honored we were even invited.

To Jessica:
Your marriage to Graham is not only declaring your love for him, but it is a declaration of your commitment to the Air Force. You may not realize this, but you have just signed on to join the military. (Even though your new position doesn’t come with rank, pay, or a uniform, you’ll share the same experiences as Graham as he travels on his journey.) My sincerest thanks to you for signing up for such a commitment, and my best wishes as you start your new lives together.

To “Rotten” Auten: You’ve already proven you know how to build things ... I hope you use your tremendous work ethic to build a life full of happiness for you, Jessica and your new family. Kink! Kink! Kink! Kink!

To Riff-Raff: What are you waiting for?

Bye, Bye, my Love

Sat, 26 Jun 2010 00:45:59 +0900

After moving out of McGuire’s base housing into the military hotel, the next task on our list was to put our cars in storage. Japan has a no-foreign-car rule when it comes to US military stationed there. I was told it is because of emission standards, but I suspect that it’s just Japan’s way of making sure their aren’t a bunch of oversized Chevy and Ford SUV’s with left-hand steering tearing up the road. (They drive on the left-side of the road in Japan, with cars that have right-handed steering.)

In any case, neither my 2001 530i sport, nor Muna’s 325it wagon are able to come with us to Japan, so we had to either sell ‘em or store ‘em.

We decided to store my car on the East coast. This meant that I had to part ways with my love, er, uh, I mean car, before we left Jersey. I took it to a government-run vehicle processing center in Edison. (The government will reimburse me for the storage of one car, and we’ll have to foot the bill for the other.)

There, they did an inspection (kind of like when returning a rental car, only a LOT more detailed.) Once we agreed on the condition of the car, I turned over the keys. I hated to do it. I won’t see her (I mean “it”) for three long years.

This meant we were dependent on Muna’s grocery-getter for the remainder of our time in Jersey. (I’m not knocking her wagon ... it’s a great car ... just not the same as my baby, er, uh, I mean car.) We decided to store her car in Kansas, where my Aunt Pie can keep an eye on it, so I’ll update you in a future blog post about how the road trip goes.