I just spent a week doing a Field Training Exercise, or FTX in Army speak. Basically, the FTX is like a week-long Army themed camping trip. We trained at Camp Bullis, which is inside a sort of wilderness area just north of San Antonio. We stayed in big tents, slept on Army cots, and ate MREs every day (much to the regret of my digestive system.)
The camp is actually quite comfortable. The tents are air conditioned, and there is hot chow for breakfast and dinner. However, there is one amenity that is very much missing: plumbing. No running water for showers, drinking water, or toilets. So we have to use wet-wipes to clean ourselves, portajohns to relieve ourselves, and water trailers to hydrate ourselves.
The training we did was largely interesting and enjoyable, but not always. Things like weapons training, casualty evacuation and care, and land navigation were a ton of fun. There were several simulators that we used to practice convoy movement, engaging the enemy, etc. There was also a simulator for practicing escaping a Humm-V in case of a roll over. That was hilarious.
The training that was less enjoyable was the gas chamber. After being instructed on the proper use of the gas mask, we all then entered a room where tear gas was being pumped into the room. The first thing I noticed was a sensation like an intense sunburn all around the exposed skin on my face and neck. But my mask was working fine, so I had no problems breathing. We had to do jumping jacks and stretches to get our hearts pumping, and then, to top it all off, we had to take our masks off and answer a series of questions to the best of our ability. That was awful. As soon as the mask comes off, the gas gets into your eyes and burns like madness. You can't breathe, but the pain makes you gasp, so you end up coughing, which brings even more of the painful stuff into your lungs. I was not fun. On the other hand, it was also nowhere near as bad as some of the prior service people were making it out to be.
We were lucky that the weather cooperated with us. Not too hot, not rainy. Just right. Even sleeping in a tent with 29 other guys wasn't too bad, since they were all pretty decent cats. We had a lot of fun.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Failing, Growing Older, and Other Things I Did in the Army.
Wow, it has been ten days since my last post. That is both disappointing, and completely understandable. I started out with every intention of making a record of every day of training, both for my own amusement later on, and for the sake of anyone who enters BOLC in the future. I wanted to write a post every day. But that was before I knew how little energy I would have after a day of listening to tedious power point lectures and walking around in the Texas heat, and before I realised how much of my time would be spent trying to get, and then waiting for rides, or waiting in traffic at the gates to the base. Commutes suck, but especially so a O-Dark-Stupid in the morning. If you come to BOLC or any other Army training where living off post is an option, DO NOT DO IT if you don't have your own car. Don't do it even if you do have your own car. Driving sucks, and you will never have enough time to really do all of the things you need to be doing if you have to drive all over the place. Just live on base. Trust me. The best evidence I can give for this theory is this very post. I had a very hot, tiring day today, and still have time to write in the blog. See?
Alright, so: failing. That is what I did yesterday. I failed my PT test. For an Army PT test you have to do a certain number of situps and pushups and run two miles in a certain time, based on age and gender. If you fail any single event, you have failed the entire test, and have to retest later. Well, I failed. And, since I don't do anything half-way, I went ahead and failed all three events. I failed pushups by 2, situps by 5, and the run by 10 seconds. I used to be fit and trim and athletic. That was 12 or so years ago. But there is some good news, which is actually caused by the second thing:
Growing Older. Yeah, today is my birthday. Officially 32 years old. Almost 1/3 of 100. Honestly, I really don't care, and I don't feel old. It doesn't feel much like a birthday, either. I got all of my presents already, either before I came to training or last weekend when Dana visited. (Oh yeah, Dana visited. It was awesome, but I completely was too busy having fun to write about it. But she drove over 1000 miles to spend two days with me. If that is not love, then love doesn't exist. That is right, I said DROVE. In two days, nonetheless. My wife = Road Warrior Princess) So today I didn't have a party or ice cream, but I did have cake at lunch, and the Army was so kind as to give me a birthday present: since I am now 32 I fall into a different testing bracket for PT. If I test again, and get the exact same scores as last time, I will pass with flying colors! Sweet! This may be the first time in history that someone has been deemed to be in better physical condition simply by virtue of getting older. Gotta love the Army!
As for training, it has been mostly very dry Army/Military doctrine for the last week or two. Some of it is more interesting, but some is seriously laughable in it's monotony. We spent two hours (that I will never get back) talking about the various stages of casualty transport. This is something that I will never do, no matter what capacity the Army places me in. Or there were the three hours talking about the various kinds of companies and battalions etc. that you can be assigned to, after which our instructor said "but these are just templates. The Army can create any kind of unit of any size, based on the current need. So your own units may look nothing like these." Well great. Thanks for taking my afternoon telling me things that I may or may not ever find remotely applicable to myself. Next up: a list of people who have gone blind from intentionally staring at the sun.
Today was a change of pace, though. Today I learned how to field dress an M-16, which was really cool. For you non-military types, field-dress is Army speak for "take apart" or "disassemble." Don't ask me why they don't just say "disassemble" because I am pretty sure nobody in the Army could tell you that, either. But I digress. The training was simple, straight forward, and I went away knowing for sure that I had gained a skill that I previously did not have. We didn't get to shoot the weapon yet, but that is coming soon. I am really pumped for that. Now that I can field dress and M-16, I almost feel like a serious GI. Almost.
Alright, so: failing. That is what I did yesterday. I failed my PT test. For an Army PT test you have to do a certain number of situps and pushups and run two miles in a certain time, based on age and gender. If you fail any single event, you have failed the entire test, and have to retest later. Well, I failed. And, since I don't do anything half-way, I went ahead and failed all three events. I failed pushups by 2, situps by 5, and the run by 10 seconds. I used to be fit and trim and athletic. That was 12 or so years ago. But there is some good news, which is actually caused by the second thing:
Growing Older. Yeah, today is my birthday. Officially 32 years old. Almost 1/3 of 100. Honestly, I really don't care, and I don't feel old. It doesn't feel much like a birthday, either. I got all of my presents already, either before I came to training or last weekend when Dana visited. (Oh yeah, Dana visited. It was awesome, but I completely was too busy having fun to write about it. But she drove over 1000 miles to spend two days with me. If that is not love, then love doesn't exist. That is right, I said DROVE. In two days, nonetheless. My wife = Road Warrior Princess) So today I didn't have a party or ice cream, but I did have cake at lunch, and the Army was so kind as to give me a birthday present: since I am now 32 I fall into a different testing bracket for PT. If I test again, and get the exact same scores as last time, I will pass with flying colors! Sweet! This may be the first time in history that someone has been deemed to be in better physical condition simply by virtue of getting older. Gotta love the Army!
As for training, it has been mostly very dry Army/Military doctrine for the last week or two. Some of it is more interesting, but some is seriously laughable in it's monotony. We spent two hours (that I will never get back) talking about the various stages of casualty transport. This is something that I will never do, no matter what capacity the Army places me in. Or there were the three hours talking about the various kinds of companies and battalions etc. that you can be assigned to, after which our instructor said "but these are just templates. The Army can create any kind of unit of any size, based on the current need. So your own units may look nothing like these." Well great. Thanks for taking my afternoon telling me things that I may or may not ever find remotely applicable to myself. Next up: a list of people who have gone blind from intentionally staring at the sun.
Today was a change of pace, though. Today I learned how to field dress an M-16, which was really cool. For you non-military types, field-dress is Army speak for "take apart" or "disassemble." Don't ask me why they don't just say "disassemble" because I am pretty sure nobody in the Army could tell you that, either. But I digress. The training was simple, straight forward, and I went away knowing for sure that I had gained a skill that I previously did not have. We didn't get to shoot the weapon yet, but that is coming soon. I am really pumped for that. Now that I can field dress and M-16, I almost feel like a serious GI. Almost.
Sunday, September 5, 2010
How to Make Friends in the Army
1: Be Mormon (seriously, a huge help. Gotta love it when people ask you about your faith and then invariably say "I know a few Mormons. They are all the nicest people.")
2: Be willing to be designated driver for your platoon.
3: Repeat.
That is about all it takes. I went from feeling sort-of left out to suddenly being everyone's best friend as soon as my classmates found out that I would be DD if they needed me. Especially since a single alcohol related incident would be grounds for getting kicked out of the program. On Saturday night, a bunch of my classmates wanted to venture out and explore San Antonio. There is a club here called Cowboys that is supposed to be pretty famous, and this is where they were planning on going via taxi, when my battle buddy remembered that I don't drink, and hence could drive them. The level of excitement over this idea was almost comical, but they were already a little lose by the time of this conversation, so whatever.
So we headed over to the club. It was actually a pretty cool place. Huge by all standards. Gigantic dance floor with a stage for live music, really tight but unremarkable country band on the huge stage, and just about everything else you could imagine being in a honky-tonk, including a mechanical bull. The bar itself is gigantic. Anyway, the group I came with let loose and had a really good time, and I felt good that I could help them get home in one non-arrested piece. I also had a lot of fun, which seemed to surprise the guys I was with, since I was still sober, and they apparently equate 'sober' with 'fun-impaired.'
It was a good night, and I felt like I was included into the group in a sincere way by the time we were driving home. So who know the tee-totalling Mormon kid from Utah would make a good party buddy?
Oh, and for the last few days training has been kinda unremarkable, which is why I haven't written much. And also I have been exhausted. In fact, if there is one remarkable thing, it would be how tired I have been. I literally fell asleep standing up at the back of the room during one of the lectures.
One thing that I should write about is the brigade run that we did on Thursday morning. A Brigade is a very large group. Our company has 360 or so people in it, and the brigade has 5 companies in it. So all told, we were a group of more than 1000 soldiers. We all formed up in our PT uniforms (grey ARMY tee-shirts, black shorts, and yellow reflective belts for safety and added geek effect) in a mass formation on the PT field. After a brief pep-talk and obligatory safety brief from the Commanding Officer, we headed out, with my A Company in the lead.
It was a little over two miles all told, and I have no idea how fast we covered the distance, but it was not fast. Nor was it particularly strenuous. By the time we were done, I was winded, but not sucking air or anything. No side-aches, cramps or any of that nonsense. All encouraging signs that I may be actually getting in shape again.
The most remarkable thing about the brigade run was this overwhelming sense of team, of being a very small piece in a very large machine. The run was all done in-time, which means there was a cadre (team, staff, etc.) member running with us, calling out cadences. Essentially we were marching in double time. Having someone call out LEFT. . .LEFT. . .LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT while you are jogging is actually really cool. And when everyone manages to actually run according to that cadence, the whole mass of bodies sways when you sway, bounces when you bounce. I had a few moments where I got the chills just thinking about all the synergy and cooperation that I was involved in. I was also very proud. There are some highly distinguished individuals in that group, from surgeons to ex-enlisted who have already been deployed multiple times. To be one of them, to run with them, was pretty flattering.
The cadences that were called during the run were pretty cool. Some were funny, and one was disturbing. It is basically what you see in the movies. An enormous group of soldiers go jogging by, shouting at the top of their lungs into the morning air. First the sergeant yells "THEY SAY THAT IN THE ARMY, THE FOOD IS MIGHTY FINE!" Then the whole group, or whoever is close enough to hear the cadence, repeat that same phrase back, in a more or less perfect echo. Then its: "A CHICKEN JUMPED OFF THE TABLE AND STARTED MARCHING TIME!" or some other mildly humorous line. Before I joined the Army, I thought those cadences were merely for breaking the monotony of yelling LEFT. . .LEFT. . .LEFT all the time. But now I know they are really an aerobic training tool. It is one thing to run two miles in a group. It is something else entirely to do it while yelling long sentences at the top of your lungs the whole time. No room for huffing and puffing while singing about Captain Jack and his knife/gun/bottle/bible, and how you are going do your best for Uncle Sam.
Wow, reading over this, I guess my lack of entries was more due to tiredness than to lack of things to write about, lol. But that will have to do it for today. One more day off, then it is back in the saddle. Tomorrow I do some laundry, and see what I can find to do within walking distance of the hotel. Or maybe, if it is too hot, I will just do laundry and hang out by the pool.
2: Be willing to be designated driver for your platoon.
3: Repeat.
That is about all it takes. I went from feeling sort-of left out to suddenly being everyone's best friend as soon as my classmates found out that I would be DD if they needed me. Especially since a single alcohol related incident would be grounds for getting kicked out of the program. On Saturday night, a bunch of my classmates wanted to venture out and explore San Antonio. There is a club here called Cowboys that is supposed to be pretty famous, and this is where they were planning on going via taxi, when my battle buddy remembered that I don't drink, and hence could drive them. The level of excitement over this idea was almost comical, but they were already a little lose by the time of this conversation, so whatever.
So we headed over to the club. It was actually a pretty cool place. Huge by all standards. Gigantic dance floor with a stage for live music, really tight but unremarkable country band on the huge stage, and just about everything else you could imagine being in a honky-tonk, including a mechanical bull. The bar itself is gigantic. Anyway, the group I came with let loose and had a really good time, and I felt good that I could help them get home in one non-arrested piece. I also had a lot of fun, which seemed to surprise the guys I was with, since I was still sober, and they apparently equate 'sober' with 'fun-impaired.'
It was a good night, and I felt like I was included into the group in a sincere way by the time we were driving home. So who know the tee-totalling Mormon kid from Utah would make a good party buddy?
Oh, and for the last few days training has been kinda unremarkable, which is why I haven't written much. And also I have been exhausted. In fact, if there is one remarkable thing, it would be how tired I have been. I literally fell asleep standing up at the back of the room during one of the lectures.
One thing that I should write about is the brigade run that we did on Thursday morning. A Brigade is a very large group. Our company has 360 or so people in it, and the brigade has 5 companies in it. So all told, we were a group of more than 1000 soldiers. We all formed up in our PT uniforms (grey ARMY tee-shirts, black shorts, and yellow reflective belts for safety and added geek effect) in a mass formation on the PT field. After a brief pep-talk and obligatory safety brief from the Commanding Officer, we headed out, with my A Company in the lead.
It was a little over two miles all told, and I have no idea how fast we covered the distance, but it was not fast. Nor was it particularly strenuous. By the time we were done, I was winded, but not sucking air or anything. No side-aches, cramps or any of that nonsense. All encouraging signs that I may be actually getting in shape again.
The most remarkable thing about the brigade run was this overwhelming sense of team, of being a very small piece in a very large machine. The run was all done in-time, which means there was a cadre (team, staff, etc.) member running with us, calling out cadences. Essentially we were marching in double time. Having someone call out LEFT. . .LEFT. . .LEFT, RIGHT, LEFT while you are jogging is actually really cool. And when everyone manages to actually run according to that cadence, the whole mass of bodies sways when you sway, bounces when you bounce. I had a few moments where I got the chills just thinking about all the synergy and cooperation that I was involved in. I was also very proud. There are some highly distinguished individuals in that group, from surgeons to ex-enlisted who have already been deployed multiple times. To be one of them, to run with them, was pretty flattering.
The cadences that were called during the run were pretty cool. Some were funny, and one was disturbing. It is basically what you see in the movies. An enormous group of soldiers go jogging by, shouting at the top of their lungs into the morning air. First the sergeant yells "THEY SAY THAT IN THE ARMY, THE FOOD IS MIGHTY FINE!" Then the whole group, or whoever is close enough to hear the cadence, repeat that same phrase back, in a more or less perfect echo. Then its: "A CHICKEN JUMPED OFF THE TABLE AND STARTED MARCHING TIME!" or some other mildly humorous line. Before I joined the Army, I thought those cadences were merely for breaking the monotony of yelling LEFT. . .LEFT. . .LEFT all the time. But now I know they are really an aerobic training tool. It is one thing to run two miles in a group. It is something else entirely to do it while yelling long sentences at the top of your lungs the whole time. No room for huffing and puffing while singing about Captain Jack and his knife/gun/bottle/bible, and how you are going do your best for Uncle Sam.
Wow, reading over this, I guess my lack of entries was more due to tiredness than to lack of things to write about, lol. But that will have to do it for today. One more day off, then it is back in the saddle. Tomorrow I do some laundry, and see what I can find to do within walking distance of the hotel. Or maybe, if it is too hot, I will just do laundry and hang out by the pool.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Slow Days are Good Days
Today was a pretty easy one, at least for me. The company (which is the military term for a very large group, such as my class of 300+ new officers) started the day out doing physical training, or PT. This would have been my first PT, but I couldn't join the company, because I had to go to the ophthalmologist on base to get a prescription for my combat eye wear. So instead of working out in the Texas heat (it was 85 degrees and 60% humidity at 5:00) I had to stand in line with a bunch of other soldiers to get glasses. Not exactly heroic.
After that, it was pretty much a day spent in classes, getting some briefings from higher ranking officers. We got out a little early, because one of the presenters was a no-show, so I was able to get in a lengthy work out of my own to make up for missing PT. I have been able to get my run and push up numbers good enough to pass the PT test, but sit ups are still a problem. I am holding out hope that I will somehow be able to get my abs and hip-flexors up to snuff by this time next week when the first PT test happens. The really good news is that I had my best run so far, doing two miles in under 17 minutes, and it wasn't even especially challenging. Hopefully I can replicate it during the test.
I am also starting to get to know my classmates, and hung out with a few of them in the evening at the hotel pool while soaking my legs after the run. It seems like an extraordinarily cool group of people, but a lot of us have been slow to find buddies or make connections, so it was nice to spend some time getting to know people in the groups.
So it was a pretty uneventful day, but in a good way. I even might manage to get 6 hours of sleep tonight, if I manage to get off this computer sometime soon.
After that, it was pretty much a day spent in classes, getting some briefings from higher ranking officers. We got out a little early, because one of the presenters was a no-show, so I was able to get in a lengthy work out of my own to make up for missing PT. I have been able to get my run and push up numbers good enough to pass the PT test, but sit ups are still a problem. I am holding out hope that I will somehow be able to get my abs and hip-flexors up to snuff by this time next week when the first PT test happens. The really good news is that I had my best run so far, doing two miles in under 17 minutes, and it wasn't even especially challenging. Hopefully I can replicate it during the test.
I am also starting to get to know my classmates, and hung out with a few of them in the evening at the hotel pool while soaking my legs after the run. It seems like an extraordinarily cool group of people, but a lot of us have been slow to find buddies or make connections, so it was nice to spend some time getting to know people in the groups.
So it was a pretty uneventful day, but in a good way. I even might manage to get 6 hours of sleep tonight, if I manage to get off this computer sometime soon.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
How to Lose Five Pounds in One Day
First: Go to Texas in late summer.
Second: Put on long pants, undershirt, and a long-sleeved jacket. Oh, and also wear a black wool hat.
Third: Walk around.
That is it. Instant five pounds of weight lost through your pores.
Potential side effects: Severe dehydration; soaking your clothes so you feel disgustingly soggy all day; sweat stains and salt lines in strange places (upper, outer thigh?); and feeling irresistibly drawn to all sorts of air conditioning.
Seriously, I lost more than five pounds today. I only hope that some of that weight loss is of a more permanent nature, since I am also drinking like a fish to make up for water loss. And it is not like we were doing anything strenuous. We just had a group march, at a slow pace, from one building on base to another. Took us maybe 30 minutes. But by the time we got to where we were going, I was drenched in sweat, as was almost everyone else.
It seems that the Army has 5 classifications of heat conditions, and these classifications determine what can and cannot be done in terms of strenuous physical activity. Well, we have been in Class 5 Heat Conditions ever since I got here. When we line up at 4:00 for role call, which should theoretically be the coldest part of the day, it is already 85 degrees outside. But, since we can't exactly phone in our training, we have to get together and do some limited stuff outside in the heat. I am hoping that I can get used to the heat pretty quick, because sweating a half gallon a day is not my idea of an ideal way to spend 9 weeks in Texas.
Second: Put on long pants, undershirt, and a long-sleeved jacket. Oh, and also wear a black wool hat.
Third: Walk around.
That is it. Instant five pounds of weight lost through your pores.
Potential side effects: Severe dehydration; soaking your clothes so you feel disgustingly soggy all day; sweat stains and salt lines in strange places (upper, outer thigh?); and feeling irresistibly drawn to all sorts of air conditioning.
Seriously, I lost more than five pounds today. I only hope that some of that weight loss is of a more permanent nature, since I am also drinking like a fish to make up for water loss. And it is not like we were doing anything strenuous. We just had a group march, at a slow pace, from one building on base to another. Took us maybe 30 minutes. But by the time we got to where we were going, I was drenched in sweat, as was almost everyone else.
It seems that the Army has 5 classifications of heat conditions, and these classifications determine what can and cannot be done in terms of strenuous physical activity. Well, we have been in Class 5 Heat Conditions ever since I got here. When we line up at 4:00 for role call, which should theoretically be the coldest part of the day, it is already 85 degrees outside. But, since we can't exactly phone in our training, we have to get together and do some limited stuff outside in the heat. I am hoping that I can get used to the heat pretty quick, because sweating a half gallon a day is not my idea of an ideal way to spend 9 weeks in Texas.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Now, Officially, Lt. Dan.
It is official. As of today at approx 11:00 am, I raised my right hand and swore to defend the Constitution of the United States from enemies both foreign and domestic, and became, fully and legally, and officer in the United States Army.
It was a pretty cool experience. Both rushed and sort of sacred. All of the other direct commissioning officers stood up on the stage and gave the oath together. To say those words "defend the Constitution of the United States" was a really powerful thing for me. I think it is remarkable that the oath is not simply "to defend the United States" but rather the Constitution first, and then secondarily "the nation" of that constitution. So essentially I know work to defend the basic rights of the people of America, as well as defend the people themselves. That is simply awesome.
Besides the oath, today was grueling. Up at 3:30 am, we mustered for role call, then boarded buses to head onto the base. Our hotel is surprisingly far from the base, taking almost half an hour to drive there. I guess everything closer was either booked or too small. It is awesome to watch the other hotel guests try to figure out why there are 300 Army officers walking around. Most look like they think Martial Law has been declared or something. Anyway, I digress. The rest of the day was tedious. One briefing after another about Army paperwork, customs, uniforms, etc. All of it was good and necessary information, but after getting up 3.5 hours before the sun, it was hard to stay awake through.
I sat next to a freshly minted Major, who, like me, is a brand-new ex-civilian. We struck up a conversation, and sort of did everything together that day. We were all trying to put on our game faces, but she seemed to be especially out of sorts, and while I am sure she is a fantastic surgeon, just doesn't seem to have a knack for the military thing. Or at least, seems to have even less of a knack for it than I have. At any rate, she seemed like she could use some help so I kind of shepherded her through things, helped her with her bags when the heat got to be too much for her, etc. Consider it my good turn for the day.
Tomorrow is supposed to be more of the same with the same masochistic start-time, so I am off for the night.
Oh, and for the record, while I was sitting in briefings all day, Dana was driving home. All the way from San Antonio to Denver, in one stab. That is over 900 miles, for those who are counting. More than 14 hours of driving. My wife is a friggin road warrior. I love you, babe.
It was a pretty cool experience. Both rushed and sort of sacred. All of the other direct commissioning officers stood up on the stage and gave the oath together. To say those words "defend the Constitution of the United States" was a really powerful thing for me. I think it is remarkable that the oath is not simply "to defend the United States" but rather the Constitution first, and then secondarily "the nation" of that constitution. So essentially I know work to defend the basic rights of the people of America, as well as defend the people themselves. That is simply awesome.
Besides the oath, today was grueling. Up at 3:30 am, we mustered for role call, then boarded buses to head onto the base. Our hotel is surprisingly far from the base, taking almost half an hour to drive there. I guess everything closer was either booked or too small. It is awesome to watch the other hotel guests try to figure out why there are 300 Army officers walking around. Most look like they think Martial Law has been declared or something. Anyway, I digress. The rest of the day was tedious. One briefing after another about Army paperwork, customs, uniforms, etc. All of it was good and necessary information, but after getting up 3.5 hours before the sun, it was hard to stay awake through.
I sat next to a freshly minted Major, who, like me, is a brand-new ex-civilian. We struck up a conversation, and sort of did everything together that day. We were all trying to put on our game faces, but she seemed to be especially out of sorts, and while I am sure she is a fantastic surgeon, just doesn't seem to have a knack for the military thing. Or at least, seems to have even less of a knack for it than I have. At any rate, she seemed like she could use some help so I kind of shepherded her through things, helped her with her bags when the heat got to be too much for her, etc. Consider it my good turn for the day.
Tomorrow is supposed to be more of the same with the same masochistic start-time, so I am off for the night.
Oh, and for the record, while I was sitting in briefings all day, Dana was driving home. All the way from San Antonio to Denver, in one stab. That is over 900 miles, for those who are counting. More than 14 hours of driving. My wife is a friggin road warrior. I love you, babe.
Sunday, August 29, 2010
You're In the Army Now
So, I am still not quite officially in the Army. That happens when I take the oath of office, which should be taking place sometime tomorrow. Preferably early in the day, since I am supposed to show up tomorrow in my uniform, with my Lieutentant's bars on it and everything. Officially, I think wearing my uniform in public without having taken the oath of office could be considered impersonating an officer, but I am not sure about that.
Anyway, tomorrow things really get rolling. Dana and I got back from our cruise this morning, raced across Texas, getting only one speeding ticket for our troubles (seriously). The first thing I did when I got here was go through in-processing, which was essentially walking from station to station in a hotel lobby, picking up various forms, filling them out, getting measured and weighed, etc. Really basic stuff. After that was all done, which took little over an hour, Dana and I said our tearful goodbyes and she headed off to her hotel for the night.
The unexpected twist was that I headed off to my rooms, which were in the same hotel. The San Antonio Airport Holiday Inn, to be precise. Pretty swanky, in fact. I got a room on the 10th floor, nice cushy bed and even a selection of soft or firm pillows. Hardly what anyone would expect from boot camp. On the other hand, we have to assemble in the parking lot at 0400 tomorrow, which is more or less precisely what I would have expected from boot camp.
There are a lot of people here. More than I expected, and I have only seen the group that is at the hotel. There are more of us on base, as well. I have been assigned to 5th Battalion of Alpha Company, which was determined alphabetically, as far as I can tell. I have already had a chance to meet and talk with some of my classmates, and most of them seem to be pretty classy.
The best spin yet is my roommate. He comes from Idaho, seems like a really decent sort, and best of all, he is LDS too, which of course eliminates the dreaded explaining of the magic underwear or questions about polygamy. He was in the National Guard prior to coming to Basic Officer Leadership Course, so I hope he can be a patient source of info and answers to all my hopelessly green rookie questions.
Well, 0400 comes early, so I am off to bed.
Anyway, tomorrow things really get rolling. Dana and I got back from our cruise this morning, raced across Texas, getting only one speeding ticket for our troubles (seriously). The first thing I did when I got here was go through in-processing, which was essentially walking from station to station in a hotel lobby, picking up various forms, filling them out, getting measured and weighed, etc. Really basic stuff. After that was all done, which took little over an hour, Dana and I said our tearful goodbyes and she headed off to her hotel for the night.
The unexpected twist was that I headed off to my rooms, which were in the same hotel. The San Antonio Airport Holiday Inn, to be precise. Pretty swanky, in fact. I got a room on the 10th floor, nice cushy bed and even a selection of soft or firm pillows. Hardly what anyone would expect from boot camp. On the other hand, we have to assemble in the parking lot at 0400 tomorrow, which is more or less precisely what I would have expected from boot camp.
There are a lot of people here. More than I expected, and I have only seen the group that is at the hotel. There are more of us on base, as well. I have been assigned to 5th Battalion of Alpha Company, which was determined alphabetically, as far as I can tell. I have already had a chance to meet and talk with some of my classmates, and most of them seem to be pretty classy.
The best spin yet is my roommate. He comes from Idaho, seems like a really decent sort, and best of all, he is LDS too, which of course eliminates the dreaded explaining of the magic underwear or questions about polygamy. He was in the National Guard prior to coming to Basic Officer Leadership Course, so I hope he can be a patient source of info and answers to all my hopelessly green rookie questions.
Well, 0400 comes early, so I am off to bed.
Friday, July 9, 2010
Training for the Army, Part 2
Still waiting on orders, which is getting to be a trial of patience on a Biblical scale. How do you get ready to move, sell your house, pack your stuff (or sell your stuff), plan a smooth departure from work, make arrangements to see friends and family, plan a vacation, get into SoldierShape and get ready for a massive sea-change in lifestyle, all while not knowing which continent you are going to be living on in two months? Well, ask me again in two months and I will be able to tell you.
For now, we still only have the date of my training start, which actually complicates things, since it means if the house doesn't sell, that Dana will have to come back to Colorado on her own and finalize everything by herself while I learn how to throw hand grenades. Of course, she is completely capable of doing it by herself, but it is not a prospect she is exactly looking forward to.
For now we are trying to stay focused on what we CAN do, such as selling the house and getting my sorry carcass into SoldierShape. We listed on Wednesday, so if you know anyone who is thinking of moving to Aurora, CO, please tell them that there is a pristine, adorable, magical and attractive home for sale at well below market value with absolutely 0 damage or repairs needed. We really have taken very good care of our home. (Seriously, if you know anyone who is thinking of moving to the Denver area, please send them our way.) [Seriously.]
As to the SoldierShape aspect, I made my first real gains in the fitness arena. My first 2 mile run was embarrassing. My time was somewhere around 25 minutes, including stops to talk to my wife, who I think had driven out to find me and make sure I was still alive. My second run time was more precisely measured, and came in at 21:30, and my third came in at 20:19. I will not be racing in the Olympics any time soon, but I was pleased with myself that I knocked over a minute off in a day's time.
The other two parts of the fitness test are push ups and sit ups. On the push ups I am close. I can crank out 30 without difficulty, and should be able to work up to the 40 needed relatively easily over two months. The sit ups are a different story. Sometime between my wrestling days and now, I appear to have misplaced my abs. I thought they were just hiding under my new upholstery, but it turns out that I have lost them entirely, and will have to grow new ones from scratch. For the test I will need to produce at least 45 sit ups. At present, I am on the verge of a hernia just trying to eek out 18. This is both puzzling and embarrassing. I blame it on Carl's Junior, my massive head, and 6 years of sitting on my can for a living. (For the record, and because she insisted, Dana can do 50 situps. There is no end to my flabby shame.)
So, over the last three days of training, I have succeeded in making every major muscle group painfully sore, dropped more than a minute off my run time, and had a rude reality check about my strength to body weight ratio. I am optimistic that I can still make the minimums relatively easily, but the sit up number has got to climb in a hurry.
For now, we still only have the date of my training start, which actually complicates things, since it means if the house doesn't sell, that Dana will have to come back to Colorado on her own and finalize everything by herself while I learn how to throw hand grenades. Of course, she is completely capable of doing it by herself, but it is not a prospect she is exactly looking forward to.
For now we are trying to stay focused on what we CAN do, such as selling the house and getting my sorry carcass into SoldierShape. We listed on Wednesday, so if you know anyone who is thinking of moving to Aurora, CO, please tell them that there is a pristine, adorable, magical and attractive home for sale at well below market value with absolutely 0 damage or repairs needed. We really have taken very good care of our home. (Seriously, if you know anyone who is thinking of moving to the Denver area, please send them our way.) [Seriously.]
As to the SoldierShape aspect, I made my first real gains in the fitness arena. My first 2 mile run was embarrassing. My time was somewhere around 25 minutes, including stops to talk to my wife, who I think had driven out to find me and make sure I was still alive. My second run time was more precisely measured, and came in at 21:30, and my third came in at 20:19. I will not be racing in the Olympics any time soon, but I was pleased with myself that I knocked over a minute off in a day's time.
The other two parts of the fitness test are push ups and sit ups. On the push ups I am close. I can crank out 30 without difficulty, and should be able to work up to the 40 needed relatively easily over two months. The sit ups are a different story. Sometime between my wrestling days and now, I appear to have misplaced my abs. I thought they were just hiding under my new upholstery, but it turns out that I have lost them entirely, and will have to grow new ones from scratch. For the test I will need to produce at least 45 sit ups. At present, I am on the verge of a hernia just trying to eek out 18. This is both puzzling and embarrassing. I blame it on Carl's Junior, my massive head, and 6 years of sitting on my can for a living. (For the record, and because she insisted, Dana can do 50 situps. There is no end to my flabby shame.)
So, over the last three days of training, I have succeeded in making every major muscle group painfully sore, dropped more than a minute off my run time, and had a rude reality check about my strength to body weight ratio. I am optimistic that I can still make the minimums relatively easily, but the sit up number has got to climb in a hurry.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Joining the Army
Those of you who know me will probably already know that I have accepted a commission to the US Army. This is, of course, a major change in our lives, and is part of the reason that I haven't blogged since January. When so much is up in the air, it is hard to know what to write about.
But now we know for sure, and we are getting ready for this new adventure. Since I have never done anything like this, I figured it would be interesting to keep a record of it. Think of it as An Army Newb's Diary.
The first thing that I learned in this process is that the Army is a very, VERY large organization. And like any very large organization, it is common for one office to not know what the others are doing. We got a lot of quazi-conflicting information during the recruitment process, and a lot of soft commitments that didn't quite work out as advertized. Most specifically, we have learned that "by the end of the week" is Army code for "sometime in the near, or almost-near future."
We also learned that, like other large organizations, they can be worked with and are succeptable to horse-trading.
My recruiter was a trooper. I think he suffered more from the changes in plan and misinformation than we did, because he had to be the bearer of bad news when time-lines changed. He also had to do some damage control, because a few of the perks that he said were a virtual lock turned out to no longer be offered by the Army. All in all, though, he did right by us and it was clear that he was doing the best that he could to represent a complex and constantly changing organization. I felt bad for him, since we were intentionally picky and made him double-check on a lot of things.
So now we are experiencing what we have been told is standard practice for the Army: Hurry Up and Wait. We have put in all our papers, my commission has been approved, and I have been assigned a spot in the Officer Basic Leadership Course. The only thing we don't know is where we will be spending the next few years of our lives. I am currently exchanging emails with the Career Specialist who makes those assignments, and she keeps telling me it will be done by the end of the week. Of course, she started saying that three weeks ago.
My training will start on Aug 30. I will be training at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas. Based on what I have read from other bloggers and from the official site, the training sounds like it will be a lot of fun. I will get some basic training on several types of weapons (possibly even a 50 caliber machine gun, WOOT!) as well as some other practical field training. To me it sounds like an awesome two week adventure camping trip. To Dana, it sounds more like the third ring of hell.
The only thing I am worried about is the Physical Fitness Test. Right now my running times are, well, less than ideal. So I am on a program now to get in shape before I report. I have two months to get my 2 minute mile times below 17:00 minutes, which is the minimum. I am shooting for 15:00, but as long as I pass I will be excited. The push-up and sit-up portions of the test should be less of a problem, but I am training on those as well. I will keep track of my times on this blog, mostly as a way for me to track my progress over time.
More thoughts to come later. Signing off for now.
But now we know for sure, and we are getting ready for this new adventure. Since I have never done anything like this, I figured it would be interesting to keep a record of it. Think of it as An Army Newb's Diary.
The first thing that I learned in this process is that the Army is a very, VERY large organization. And like any very large organization, it is common for one office to not know what the others are doing. We got a lot of quazi-conflicting information during the recruitment process, and a lot of soft commitments that didn't quite work out as advertized. Most specifically, we have learned that "by the end of the week" is Army code for "sometime in the near, or almost-near future."
We also learned that, like other large organizations, they can be worked with and are succeptable to horse-trading.
My recruiter was a trooper. I think he suffered more from the changes in plan and misinformation than we did, because he had to be the bearer of bad news when time-lines changed. He also had to do some damage control, because a few of the perks that he said were a virtual lock turned out to no longer be offered by the Army. All in all, though, he did right by us and it was clear that he was doing the best that he could to represent a complex and constantly changing organization. I felt bad for him, since we were intentionally picky and made him double-check on a lot of things.
So now we are experiencing what we have been told is standard practice for the Army: Hurry Up and Wait. We have put in all our papers, my commission has been approved, and I have been assigned a spot in the Officer Basic Leadership Course. The only thing we don't know is where we will be spending the next few years of our lives. I am currently exchanging emails with the Career Specialist who makes those assignments, and she keeps telling me it will be done by the end of the week. Of course, she started saying that three weeks ago.
My training will start on Aug 30. I will be training at Fort Sam Houston in San Antonio, Texas. Based on what I have read from other bloggers and from the official site, the training sounds like it will be a lot of fun. I will get some basic training on several types of weapons (possibly even a 50 caliber machine gun, WOOT!) as well as some other practical field training. To me it sounds like an awesome two week adventure camping trip. To Dana, it sounds more like the third ring of hell.
The only thing I am worried about is the Physical Fitness Test. Right now my running times are, well, less than ideal. So I am on a program now to get in shape before I report. I have two months to get my 2 minute mile times below 17:00 minutes, which is the minimum. I am shooting for 15:00, but as long as I pass I will be excited. The push-up and sit-up portions of the test should be less of a problem, but I am training on those as well. I will keep track of my times on this blog, mostly as a way for me to track my progress over time.
More thoughts to come later. Signing off for now.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Damned if we do. . .
Ah, NPR. The source of so many infuriated tirades, and also occasionally the source of information.
Last night I was driving home from Aspen, listening to NPR as I navigated the curves and turns of I-70 in the dark. To avoid falling asleep like my lovely wife, I started talking to the radio in my head, since it is more fun to actively mock people in my mind than it is to merely listen to them. Anyway, that late at night, Colorado NPR carries broadcasts from the BBC World Service, which is generally staffed by Brits who sound more bored by the news they are announcing than they would be by, say, their cereal boxes. These stuffy Queensmen happened to be talking about Haiti, and the relief effort going on over there. This is generally not something I would rant about, since I completely support the relief, and am pulling for the Haitian people to not only get relief but to also get a leg up towards economic success in the long-term. However, this bored-as-watching-paint-dry reporter had two guests on, who were supposedly experts on the relief effort. They were talking about their frustrations that America has suspended emergency evacuation flights from Haiti to the US for critically wounded persons. Certainly news-worthy content. The official line is that America stopped the flights due to "logistical complications," and the un-official line was that American hospitals would not take more Haitians until someone had first agreed to pay for their care.
I honestly don't know anything about this aspect of the story, but that is not what I am ranting about, anyway. Just back-story so you can understand what I am about to go off on, see.
So this one dude with something like a French-Canadian-Speaking-English accent started unloading on the US relief effort. He made all sorts of claims that the Americans were doing this and that wrong, and that "logistics" were always the problem with Americans, and dontcha-remember-Katrina-where-the-Yanks-couldn't-even-take-care-of-their-own-people, and on and on. The female co-guest also added her own pepper to the mix, stating that America had "barged" into Haiti and "commandeered" the relief effort, and she claimed essentially that we were making a dog's dinner of the whole operation.
So you know what? Maybe they are right. Maybe we are not doing a great job of things down there. I honestly don't know. But here is my question: who else is there? Who else has the wherewithal to come in as an outside power and even attempt an operation like this? (If you are thinking UN, I would just like to take this moment to ask you to research which UN nation constitutes over 50% of the UN's funding and man-power).
So the US isn't helping out fast enough, and there are hurdles. OK. Well, actually, NOT OK. It is not OK to bite the hand that feeds you. Beggars cannot be choosers, and there are few if any people who more adequately fit the bill of beggars than do the Haitian people right now. They have so little, and the little they do have is lying amid rubble more often than not. They need help, and nobody is in a better position financially, militarily and economically to help the Haitians than the US. So what do we get for our efforts?
Why, the same thing the US always gets when we help out anywhere: suspicion, recrimination, criticism and blame. Whatever we do, it is not good enough. However many people we help, there are always other vociferous boobies who can only find fulfilment in searching for criticisms. If we pull a survivor out of the rubble, we get complaints that the survivor was too dusty. If we stabilize an economy, we get accusations of being profit-motivated, heartless capitalists. If we liberate a country from a dictator, we are accused of being imperialist expansionists.
In short, whatever we do is wrong, nothing we do is enough. Why? Because we are America, and since nobody can do what we do as well as we do, all they are left with is little-man syndrome of complaint and whining. What makes me proud among all of this is that America still goes about helping people and following American values. We are far from perfect, and we are admittedly opportunistic and (like everyone else) do things that reflect well upon us. But we still go out and do things to help other people in the world, no matter how popular or beloved we are for our efforts. So the critics can go to hell, and we will go to Haiti.
Last night I was driving home from Aspen, listening to NPR as I navigated the curves and turns of I-70 in the dark. To avoid falling asleep like my lovely wife, I started talking to the radio in my head, since it is more fun to actively mock people in my mind than it is to merely listen to them. Anyway, that late at night, Colorado NPR carries broadcasts from the BBC World Service, which is generally staffed by Brits who sound more bored by the news they are announcing than they would be by, say, their cereal boxes. These stuffy Queensmen happened to be talking about Haiti, and the relief effort going on over there. This is generally not something I would rant about, since I completely support the relief, and am pulling for the Haitian people to not only get relief but to also get a leg up towards economic success in the long-term. However, this bored-as-watching-paint-dry reporter had two guests on, who were supposedly experts on the relief effort. They were talking about their frustrations that America has suspended emergency evacuation flights from Haiti to the US for critically wounded persons. Certainly news-worthy content. The official line is that America stopped the flights due to "logistical complications," and the un-official line was that American hospitals would not take more Haitians until someone had first agreed to pay for their care.
I honestly don't know anything about this aspect of the story, but that is not what I am ranting about, anyway. Just back-story so you can understand what I am about to go off on, see.
So this one dude with something like a French-Canadian-Speaking-English accent started unloading on the US relief effort. He made all sorts of claims that the Americans were doing this and that wrong, and that "logistics" were always the problem with Americans, and dontcha-remember-Katrina-where-the-Yanks-couldn't-even-take-care-of-their-own-people, and on and on. The female co-guest also added her own pepper to the mix, stating that America had "barged" into Haiti and "commandeered" the relief effort, and she claimed essentially that we were making a dog's dinner of the whole operation.
So you know what? Maybe they are right. Maybe we are not doing a great job of things down there. I honestly don't know. But here is my question: who else is there? Who else has the wherewithal to come in as an outside power and even attempt an operation like this? (If you are thinking UN, I would just like to take this moment to ask you to research which UN nation constitutes over 50% of the UN's funding and man-power).
So the US isn't helping out fast enough, and there are hurdles. OK. Well, actually, NOT OK. It is not OK to bite the hand that feeds you. Beggars cannot be choosers, and there are few if any people who more adequately fit the bill of beggars than do the Haitian people right now. They have so little, and the little they do have is lying amid rubble more often than not. They need help, and nobody is in a better position financially, militarily and economically to help the Haitians than the US. So what do we get for our efforts?
Why, the same thing the US always gets when we help out anywhere: suspicion, recrimination, criticism and blame. Whatever we do, it is not good enough. However many people we help, there are always other vociferous boobies who can only find fulfilment in searching for criticisms. If we pull a survivor out of the rubble, we get complaints that the survivor was too dusty. If we stabilize an economy, we get accusations of being profit-motivated, heartless capitalists. If we liberate a country from a dictator, we are accused of being imperialist expansionists.
In short, whatever we do is wrong, nothing we do is enough. Why? Because we are America, and since nobody can do what we do as well as we do, all they are left with is little-man syndrome of complaint and whining. What makes me proud among all of this is that America still goes about helping people and following American values. We are far from perfect, and we are admittedly opportunistic and (like everyone else) do things that reflect well upon us. But we still go out and do things to help other people in the world, no matter how popular or beloved we are for our efforts. So the critics can go to hell, and we will go to Haiti.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
State of the Union
Of course, there is no way I could let something like the State of the Union go past without adding my own pepper to it.
I like Obama. I think he is charismatic (and after Bush, having a president who at least sounds intelligent is hugely refreshing). He looks like a leader. He comes across like a man who knows where he is going, and who knows what he wants. Even if I don't always agree with him, at least I feel comfortable with him at the helm.
He gave a fantastic speech. Full of potent sound-bites, tough and firm on his issues, and admitting to some mistakes. He even was inspiring, motivational and energizing; things that SoU speeches rarely manage to be.
But it was not the speech itself that I found most telling. I kept my eyes on the ladies and gentlemen sitting in the audience, wearing their expensive suits and dresses, paid for by you and me. I could not help but notice the powerful physical display of partisan division in our government. At regular intervals, the speech was interrupted by thunderous applause and standing ovations. Some of those ovations came from the whole combined house, but more of that applause came from only half. There were times when only one half clapped at all, while the other sat in clear disapproval, not even gracing the president with so much as a clap.
That is precisely what is broken with our country. There is no way that those educated, intelligent individuals are truly ideologically that divided. I don't buy it. It is artificial, and that artifice goes both ways. Not all of the Dems are vociferous supporters of Obama. And not all of the Republicans are fervent opponents. But they all cave to the pressure of their party. When the party shouts "hooray," all the members are compelled to shout along, whether they feel to or not. And when the party says "boo," only the career suicidal will go against the grain.
This is clear evidence of one of my major complaints about our country: we are not represented by our representatives. Rather, they are cowed, pushed, bribed, pressured into representing their party. Only statements that are clearly popular (like "America does not quit") get the approval of all. I don't buy it. I feel cheated by it. And so should you. If you voted for someone who now follows the dictates of a party, then you have been robbed of your vote.
Anyway, that is one issue. Another thing I loved was that he called out the Supreme Court for their moronic decision from last week about campaign finance. They deserve to have some serious negative heat focused their way. It was great to see them eat a little crow, seated there in the position of greatest honor in the crowd.
The last thing I will only touch on actually came from the Republican response, and I can't talk about it for too long or my computer will melt. In general, I felt that the response was pathetic. Clearly written well in advance of the speech, the response reflected more of the president's points than it refuted or challenged. It was weak sauce. But there was one statement that made my blood boil: when what's-his-face the Governor of Virginia claimed that America has "the best health care system in the world" and that people don't want the Federal Government to run it.
OK, this is nothing more than evidence that this guy has not a single clue as to what he is talking about. America has the best health care system in the world? Where the hell did he get that information? Our health care is the most broken in the developed world! How often have you heard of people coming to America for medical tourism? Never. Instead, Americans go to places like Columbia to have life-saving surgeries BECAUSE THEY CAN'T AFFORD AMERICAN HEALTH CARE and the Colombian surgeons are just as good as ours. Look it up - Americans spend hundreds of millions of dollars a year getting health care elsewhere, precisely because our health system is NOT better, just more expensive. Now, I will admit that our hospitals are very good. For those fortunate enough to be able to afford good health insurance, American health coverage just might be the best in the world. However, so many people simply can't afford this care, that America does not even have the best average health care in the world. That honor goes to Sweden, with their (gasp) socialized heath care. Yup, the Swedes are the healthiest people in the world, and have the highest standard of living, and their health care is entirely run by their government. So, that leaves us looking at what can only be referred to as luxury health care, available only to the wealthy. So America has the world's best luxury health care.
But I don't think health care should be a luxury, given only to those who can afford it. I compare it to a steak house with the world's best steak. As long as I don't have enough money to afford that steak, this world's best steak house might as well be the very worse as far as I am concerned. I can't afford it either way. Only if I have the means of accessing the system does the quality of that system even apply to me. So no, we do not have the best health care system in the world. And I know what I am talking about. I work with the Severely and Persistently Mentally Ill, traditionally the most under served health care population for myriad reasons. These people are constantly denied coverage, shuffled from one care giver to another, and generally mistreated. Why? Because they can't afford good care. Since they don't have money they have no power. They can't demand good care because they can't pay out of pocket, and can't afford insurance. So they tend to go untreated, and when they do have a crisis and need treatment, that treatment must be paid for by anemic system that cannot support them. There must be a better way. In America, there MUST be a better way.
I like Obama. I think he is charismatic (and after Bush, having a president who at least sounds intelligent is hugely refreshing). He looks like a leader. He comes across like a man who knows where he is going, and who knows what he wants. Even if I don't always agree with him, at least I feel comfortable with him at the helm.
He gave a fantastic speech. Full of potent sound-bites, tough and firm on his issues, and admitting to some mistakes. He even was inspiring, motivational and energizing; things that SoU speeches rarely manage to be.
But it was not the speech itself that I found most telling. I kept my eyes on the ladies and gentlemen sitting in the audience, wearing their expensive suits and dresses, paid for by you and me. I could not help but notice the powerful physical display of partisan division in our government. At regular intervals, the speech was interrupted by thunderous applause and standing ovations. Some of those ovations came from the whole combined house, but more of that applause came from only half. There were times when only one half clapped at all, while the other sat in clear disapproval, not even gracing the president with so much as a clap.
That is precisely what is broken with our country. There is no way that those educated, intelligent individuals are truly ideologically that divided. I don't buy it. It is artificial, and that artifice goes both ways. Not all of the Dems are vociferous supporters of Obama. And not all of the Republicans are fervent opponents. But they all cave to the pressure of their party. When the party shouts "hooray," all the members are compelled to shout along, whether they feel to or not. And when the party says "boo," only the career suicidal will go against the grain.
This is clear evidence of one of my major complaints about our country: we are not represented by our representatives. Rather, they are cowed, pushed, bribed, pressured into representing their party. Only statements that are clearly popular (like "America does not quit") get the approval of all. I don't buy it. I feel cheated by it. And so should you. If you voted for someone who now follows the dictates of a party, then you have been robbed of your vote.
Anyway, that is one issue. Another thing I loved was that he called out the Supreme Court for their moronic decision from last week about campaign finance. They deserve to have some serious negative heat focused their way. It was great to see them eat a little crow, seated there in the position of greatest honor in the crowd.
The last thing I will only touch on actually came from the Republican response, and I can't talk about it for too long or my computer will melt. In general, I felt that the response was pathetic. Clearly written well in advance of the speech, the response reflected more of the president's points than it refuted or challenged. It was weak sauce. But there was one statement that made my blood boil: when what's-his-face the Governor of Virginia claimed that America has "the best health care system in the world" and that people don't want the Federal Government to run it.
OK, this is nothing more than evidence that this guy has not a single clue as to what he is talking about. America has the best health care system in the world? Where the hell did he get that information? Our health care is the most broken in the developed world! How often have you heard of people coming to America for medical tourism? Never. Instead, Americans go to places like Columbia to have life-saving surgeries BECAUSE THEY CAN'T AFFORD AMERICAN HEALTH CARE and the Colombian surgeons are just as good as ours. Look it up - Americans spend hundreds of millions of dollars a year getting health care elsewhere, precisely because our health system is NOT better, just more expensive. Now, I will admit that our hospitals are very good. For those fortunate enough to be able to afford good health insurance, American health coverage just might be the best in the world. However, so many people simply can't afford this care, that America does not even have the best average health care in the world. That honor goes to Sweden, with their (gasp) socialized heath care. Yup, the Swedes are the healthiest people in the world, and have the highest standard of living, and their health care is entirely run by their government. So, that leaves us looking at what can only be referred to as luxury health care, available only to the wealthy. So America has the world's best luxury health care.
But I don't think health care should be a luxury, given only to those who can afford it. I compare it to a steak house with the world's best steak. As long as I don't have enough money to afford that steak, this world's best steak house might as well be the very worse as far as I am concerned. I can't afford it either way. Only if I have the means of accessing the system does the quality of that system even apply to me. So no, we do not have the best health care system in the world. And I know what I am talking about. I work with the Severely and Persistently Mentally Ill, traditionally the most under served health care population for myriad reasons. These people are constantly denied coverage, shuffled from one care giver to another, and generally mistreated. Why? Because they can't afford good care. Since they don't have money they have no power. They can't demand good care because they can't pay out of pocket, and can't afford insurance. So they tend to go untreated, and when they do have a crisis and need treatment, that treatment must be paid for by anemic system that cannot support them. There must be a better way. In America, there MUST be a better way.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Broken Things
American Campaign Finance:
So the American Supreme Court decided today that it is OK for corporations to essentially buy elections. They just overturned an old campaign finance law that restricted the political contributions of corporations, and opened the doors for them to give unrestricted amounts of money to candidates. So essentially, what we will have is corporations pouring massive amounts of money into the election funds of candidates, producing even more of those asinine campaign ads, and making for even more corrupt politicians. Just what this country needed. Yeah - that is broken.
Aid Delivery to Haiti:
I keep hearing basically the same exact story coming out of Haiti: there is tons of aid just waiting to be delivered to the starving survivors, but there is no way to get the aid to the people because the airport is jammed, the port is busted, and the roads are impassable. Man, it makes me almost wish that someone had invented some kind of aircraft that is capable of vertical take-off and landing, that could fly supplies and troops and aid workers to the remote areas where people need help. With a vehicle like that, we could have helped all of these people already, it seems. . . .
Heck, I dunno: HELICOPTER anyone? All these excuses about not getting aid out are pathetic. If we can drop food and guns and jeeps and tanks behind enemy lines via helicopter while those choppers are getting SHOT AT, why on earth can we not do the same thing to help people who are desperately in need? That is broken.
This Guy:
So the American Supreme Court decided today that it is OK for corporations to essentially buy elections. They just overturned an old campaign finance law that restricted the political contributions of corporations, and opened the doors for them to give unrestricted amounts of money to candidates. So essentially, what we will have is corporations pouring massive amounts of money into the election funds of candidates, producing even more of those asinine campaign ads, and making for even more corrupt politicians. Just what this country needed. Yeah - that is broken.
Aid Delivery to Haiti:
I keep hearing basically the same exact story coming out of Haiti: there is tons of aid just waiting to be delivered to the starving survivors, but there is no way to get the aid to the people because the airport is jammed, the port is busted, and the roads are impassable. Man, it makes me almost wish that someone had invented some kind of aircraft that is capable of vertical take-off and landing, that could fly supplies and troops and aid workers to the remote areas where people need help. With a vehicle like that, we could have helped all of these people already, it seems. . . .
Heck, I dunno: HELICOPTER anyone? All these excuses about not getting aid out are pathetic. If we can drop food and guns and jeeps and tanks behind enemy lines via helicopter while those choppers are getting SHOT AT, why on earth can we not do the same thing to help people who are desperately in need? That is broken.
This Guy:
Good ol' Conservidiot Pat "Wouldn't Know God if He Shook My Hand" Robertson. Listen to what he said recently, in his typical way of speaking first, looking goofy second, and thinking sometime next week:
"It may be a blessing in disguise. ... Something happened a long time ago in Haiti, and people might not want to talk about it. Haitians were originally under the heel of the French. You know, Napoleon the third, or whatever. And they got together and swore a pact to the devil. They said, we will serve you if you will get us free from the French. True story. And so, the devil said, okay it's a deal. Ever since they have been cursed by one thing after the other." –Pat Robertson, on the earthquake in Haiti that destroyed the capital and killed tens of thousands of people, Jan. 13, 2010
OK, Pat: we all know you are a blathering moron, but please explain this: what precisely did the devil do to overthrow the French? Were you there when this deal was made? Is it in some voodoo journal you read? Or maybe you know about it from your own extensive Satan worship. Whatever the case may be, one thing is completely clear: God would NEVER do this to people, especially not for something as silly as making some supposed pact with the devil. God LOVES people, and earthquakes just happen. If God punished people for doing evil things, why didn't he wipe Rome off the map after killing thousands of innocents during the Crusades? Or why didn't he throw Palestine into the sea after the Jews killed his son? Or, better yet, why hasn't he afflicted Pat Robertson with every disease known to man for sowing his particular brand of toxic ignorance and hate?
So yeah, this guy is broken.
Monday, January 11, 2010
The American Non-Democracy
Ah, I was just thinking back to my Jr. High American History class. I'm sure you all remember it: it was the class where I first really understood what democracy meant, and learned in a meaningful way that America was a democracy.
Well, from that time to this, it seems I have been forced to unlearn that fact. America is not in fact a democracy. A democracy is a system in which a body of people get together to elect someone who then goes to the law-making place and represents the people who elected them.
Yeah, America doesn't have that.
We have a coin toss.
See, this last year (you remember; Obama, Hope, change, failing banks, foreclosures, wars, etc.) we had all these high hopes about getting real change done in Washington because there was a Democratic majority in both houses and a Democrat in the White House. Surely this would be a prime year for some progress.
Well, fast-forward back to the present, and you see that the world has not, in fact, been saved. Not even Washington has been saved. All the high hopes for getting stuff done have been thwarted. And why? Our useless, non-democratic, non-elected, non-interested-at-all-in-what-you-want political parties.
Last year, the House of Representatives cast more than 1/2 of all of its votes straight along party lines. The Senate cast 2/3 of its votes the same way, which was a new record. So, in a year where progress was supposed to happen and change be accomplished, instead we got Our Side vs. Your Side. Asses vs. Elephants.
It seems to me that when the choice is Republican vs. Democrat, the unmentioned loser is Americans. Whatever one side wants, the other side hates, if for no other reason than because the idea comes from the other side. This set up cannot allow elected officials to actually vote their conciences, especially when the balance of power is so tight. Step outside of party lines and you make yourself a pariah, and you can kiss your future funding goodbye. So, no sooner than our officials are elected, they bid farewell to their constituent loyalties, and become loyal to their new bosses: their party.
So we do not have a democracy. Not at all. We vote people into their party, and then the party decides what gets done. Do you remember ever voting for the head of a national party? No, because they are not democratically elected. You and I don't get to pick the people who run the country from behind the scenes. Nobody votes for the Wizard of Oz.
To my way of thinking, you can be a Republican or a Democrat or an American. But not more than one at a time.
Well, from that time to this, it seems I have been forced to unlearn that fact. America is not in fact a democracy. A democracy is a system in which a body of people get together to elect someone who then goes to the law-making place and represents the people who elected them.
Yeah, America doesn't have that.
We have a coin toss.
See, this last year (you remember; Obama, Hope, change, failing banks, foreclosures, wars, etc.) we had all these high hopes about getting real change done in Washington because there was a Democratic majority in both houses and a Democrat in the White House. Surely this would be a prime year for some progress.
Well, fast-forward back to the present, and you see that the world has not, in fact, been saved. Not even Washington has been saved. All the high hopes for getting stuff done have been thwarted. And why? Our useless, non-democratic, non-elected, non-interested-at-all-in-what-you-want political parties.
Last year, the House of Representatives cast more than 1/2 of all of its votes straight along party lines. The Senate cast 2/3 of its votes the same way, which was a new record. So, in a year where progress was supposed to happen and change be accomplished, instead we got Our Side vs. Your Side. Asses vs. Elephants.
It seems to me that when the choice is Republican vs. Democrat, the unmentioned loser is Americans. Whatever one side wants, the other side hates, if for no other reason than because the idea comes from the other side. This set up cannot allow elected officials to actually vote their conciences, especially when the balance of power is so tight. Step outside of party lines and you make yourself a pariah, and you can kiss your future funding goodbye. So, no sooner than our officials are elected, they bid farewell to their constituent loyalties, and become loyal to their new bosses: their party.
So we do not have a democracy. Not at all. We vote people into their party, and then the party decides what gets done. Do you remember ever voting for the head of a national party? No, because they are not democratically elected. You and I don't get to pick the people who run the country from behind the scenes. Nobody votes for the Wizard of Oz.
To my way of thinking, you can be a Republican or a Democrat or an American. But not more than one at a time.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Terminator: Salvation Review
Remember that whole scandal back when Terminator: Salvation was being made? You know, the one where Christian Bale went all psycho on a crew member for walking into the shot, and verbally assaulted him for about five minutes? Yeah, well I finally figured out where all that anger came from.
See, I just watched that movie. It makes complete sense to me now. I think that if I had been given several hundred million dollars to make a major blockbuster movie, and despite my best efforts that movie refused to be saved from complete suckiness, I would be pretty testy too.
This movie was a complete joke. It had all the elements of post-apocalyptica that Hollywood does so well, with the dazzling explosions and car crashes, and cool CGI robots. They even resurrected young Arni to come back and kick some trash for a while. The tragedy is that the movie failed to do one crucial thing: make sense.
The list of stupid impossibilities that I saw in this movie completely obliterated my suspension of disbelief. For instance: Sky Net is capable of finding and hunting down three lonely little people in all the vastness of blown-to-hell Los Angeles, simply because someone played some old butt-rock on a car radio. But for some inexplicable reason, this same omnipotent Sky Net can't manage to find the fully operational AIR BASE and all the HELICOPTERS. (sorry, but this kind of stuff makes me angry. Something about insulting my intelligence for the sake of taking a short-cut to a dramatic scene, and letting logic and rationality suffer for cinematography.
There were a bunch of other things. Like why on earth are there random fires burning all over the place? Didn't this war happen years ago? Not even tires burn that long. Sure, it looks cool and all desolate-like, but seriously: fires. burn. out. eventually. And while we are talking about fire, there was this hall-of-famer: someone tells the new cyborg GI Joe that it is dangerous to move around at night because the uber-bots see infrared. Good to know. But then, maybe ten minutes later, Cyborg GI Joe has saved a street-savvy A-10 Warthog pilot and they hole up for the night AND MAKE A BONFIRE! Holy sweet *#@#! For the love of $%#&! Oh, the HUMANITY!!!
Ok, I am calm again. But seriously, this is what Hollywood spends millions on? Flashy lights, chase scenes, and super-star paychecks? It seems to me that there must have been at least some money in that pot to pay a guy to check the story-board and catch these blatantly illogical snafus. Such as the dramatic final "bad-guys-get-what-they-deserve" scene, when they blow Sky Net straight to Hades in nuclear fire. Why, oh sweet mercy, why does the rescue helicopter have to be flying RIGHT OVER THE EXPLOSION?
So yeah, if it was my movie, I would be pissed as all get out. So Christian Bale, I am right with you. After watching this movie, I think you may have even been too easy on the guy.
See, I just watched that movie. It makes complete sense to me now. I think that if I had been given several hundred million dollars to make a major blockbuster movie, and despite my best efforts that movie refused to be saved from complete suckiness, I would be pretty testy too.
This movie was a complete joke. It had all the elements of post-apocalyptica that Hollywood does so well, with the dazzling explosions and car crashes, and cool CGI robots. They even resurrected young Arni to come back and kick some trash for a while. The tragedy is that the movie failed to do one crucial thing: make sense.
The list of stupid impossibilities that I saw in this movie completely obliterated my suspension of disbelief. For instance: Sky Net is capable of finding and hunting down three lonely little people in all the vastness of blown-to-hell Los Angeles, simply because someone played some old butt-rock on a car radio. But for some inexplicable reason, this same omnipotent Sky Net can't manage to find the fully operational AIR BASE and all the HELICOPTERS. (sorry, but this kind of stuff makes me angry. Something about insulting my intelligence for the sake of taking a short-cut to a dramatic scene, and letting logic and rationality suffer for cinematography.
There were a bunch of other things. Like why on earth are there random fires burning all over the place? Didn't this war happen years ago? Not even tires burn that long. Sure, it looks cool and all desolate-like, but seriously: fires. burn. out. eventually. And while we are talking about fire, there was this hall-of-famer: someone tells the new cyborg GI Joe that it is dangerous to move around at night because the uber-bots see infrared. Good to know. But then, maybe ten minutes later, Cyborg GI Joe has saved a street-savvy A-10 Warthog pilot and they hole up for the night AND MAKE A BONFIRE! Holy sweet *#@#! For the love of $%#&! Oh, the HUMANITY!!!
So yeah, if it was my movie, I would be pissed as all get out. So Christian Bale, I am right with you. After watching this movie, I think you may have even been too easy on the guy.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Avatar Review
For a while now I have flirted with the idea of putting some movie/tv/book critiques up on my blog. I have been held back mainly by the fact that I think most critics are self-important, pedantic wannabes who lack the creativity to make their own new things, so instead analyse the creations of others, often stroking their own underachieving egos by lambasting the work of their creative betters. So a critic I would rather not be. However, I often find myself most in the mood to share my opinions after I have read a book, seen a movie, or watched TV. So I found myself in a quandary: how to blog about movies and books without stooping to the level of critic.
The solution I have come up with is this: I am in no way qualified to claim to be an educated, hoity-toity critic, but I am an opinionated consumer. So that is what my reviews will be: consumer opinions, nothing more. Anyone who takes them to be educated criticisms is only fooling themselves.
So lets begin: Last night we went to see the movie Avatar in 3D. Dana and I debated whether we should go or not, since we both had heard mixed reviews. Some people said it was mindless drivel, while others thought it was the best movie experience ever. We finally decided to see for ourselves.
My personal verdict is leaning strongly towards Best Movie Experience Ever. I give it a 9 of 10. However, the Best Movie Experience Ever is different than the Best Movie Ever. This was clearly an experiential movie, and was also clearly meant to be. The 3D effects and the pure visual beauty of this movie were phenomenal. At several points I felt like I needed to dust ashes or dirt off my legs from explosions on screen. The action was phenomenal, and the only thing that kept me from feeling like I was flying my own dragon/bird thingy was that the floor didn't move. It was truly an overwhelming, convincing, transporting experience. It was one of those movies where you leave the theater knowing that the extra money you dropped was worth it simply for the experience. Even the extra money they make you pay for the 3D glasses was worth it.
But if you are going into this movie expecting to see a new Tale of Two Cities or Les Miserables, you are going to be disappointed, and it is your own dumb fault. It is not high literature. The plot is familiar and predictable: hard-bitten soldier contacts new culture, learns to love them, then works against his old people to save his new people (see: Dances with Wolves). Character development is formulaic, and there are a thousand things you can find that his movie does not do. Again, if you came into this movie expecting an academic or intellectually challenging experience, then you deserve to be disappointed, and it is your own dumb fault.
Avatar is a roller-coaster, and a dang good one. It is thrilling, exciting, novel, beautiful and powerful. You should go into this movie expecting a roller-coaster ride. Anyone who climbs into a roller-coaster expecting it to be like driving a Bentley is just showing that they are either completely retarded, or they have no idea what a roller-coaster is for.
Anyway, I came out of this movie thinking two main things; 1: The critics who have panned it for being non-intellectual have only managed to display their own shortcomings: they wanted this movie to be something it wasn't, and were unable to appreciate this movie for what it was.
Go and see it, and see it in 3D in the theater. You will love it, as long as you don't expect it to be Traffic or Million Dollar Baby. But even then, it remains a good story in it's own right, which brings me to 2: Even though the story is not new or original, it still manages to do one thing that much of "high art" fails to do: it tells a story that taps into a larger social consciousness. It tells the story of a people who wish they could go back and undo the harm they have done, of a people who regret what they had to lose in order to get what they have gained. It tells a story that virtually everyone can relate to, even if it is merely on the level of being a good person and protecting the weak. So what if that is not ground breaking? If every new work of art has to break new ground, then there is no room at all for tradition and convention. No room for familiarity or culture. In a very real way, revisiting these kinds of stories is more important than bringing new innovations to the table. We don't know if the new is worth the paper it is printed on, but the familiar themes of the past have already shown they have power and value.
The solution I have come up with is this: I am in no way qualified to claim to be an educated, hoity-toity critic, but I am an opinionated consumer. So that is what my reviews will be: consumer opinions, nothing more. Anyone who takes them to be educated criticisms is only fooling themselves.
So lets begin: Last night we went to see the movie Avatar in 3D. Dana and I debated whether we should go or not, since we both had heard mixed reviews. Some people said it was mindless drivel, while others thought it was the best movie experience ever. We finally decided to see for ourselves.
My personal verdict is leaning strongly towards Best Movie Experience Ever. I give it a 9 of 10. However, the Best Movie Experience Ever is different than the Best Movie Ever. This was clearly an experiential movie, and was also clearly meant to be. The 3D effects and the pure visual beauty of this movie were phenomenal. At several points I felt like I needed to dust ashes or dirt off my legs from explosions on screen. The action was phenomenal, and the only thing that kept me from feeling like I was flying my own dragon/bird thingy was that the floor didn't move. It was truly an overwhelming, convincing, transporting experience. It was one of those movies where you leave the theater knowing that the extra money you dropped was worth it simply for the experience. Even the extra money they make you pay for the 3D glasses was worth it.
But if you are going into this movie expecting to see a new Tale of Two Cities or Les Miserables, you are going to be disappointed, and it is your own dumb fault. It is not high literature. The plot is familiar and predictable: hard-bitten soldier contacts new culture, learns to love them, then works against his old people to save his new people (see: Dances with Wolves). Character development is formulaic, and there are a thousand things you can find that his movie does not do. Again, if you came into this movie expecting an academic or intellectually challenging experience, then you deserve to be disappointed, and it is your own dumb fault.
Avatar is a roller-coaster, and a dang good one. It is thrilling, exciting, novel, beautiful and powerful. You should go into this movie expecting a roller-coaster ride. Anyone who climbs into a roller-coaster expecting it to be like driving a Bentley is just showing that they are either completely retarded, or they have no idea what a roller-coaster is for.
Anyway, I came out of this movie thinking two main things; 1: The critics who have panned it for being non-intellectual have only managed to display their own shortcomings: they wanted this movie to be something it wasn't, and were unable to appreciate this movie for what it was.
Go and see it, and see it in 3D in the theater. You will love it, as long as you don't expect it to be Traffic or Million Dollar Baby. But even then, it remains a good story in it's own right, which brings me to 2: Even though the story is not new or original, it still manages to do one thing that much of "high art" fails to do: it tells a story that taps into a larger social consciousness. It tells the story of a people who wish they could go back and undo the harm they have done, of a people who regret what they had to lose in order to get what they have gained. It tells a story that virtually everyone can relate to, even if it is merely on the level of being a good person and protecting the weak. So what if that is not ground breaking? If every new work of art has to break new ground, then there is no room at all for tradition and convention. No room for familiarity or culture. In a very real way, revisiting these kinds of stories is more important than bringing new innovations to the table. We don't know if the new is worth the paper it is printed on, but the familiar themes of the past have already shown they have power and value.
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