So today is Thanksgiving...so happy Thanksgiving!
I was supposed to write this a long time ago. But I've been exceptionally lazy with all my writing lately. Between work and well work, I just haven't been able to find the time. Excuses, excuses. If I really wanted to, I would've made it happen but I didn't. So take that for what its worth.
So how has life been for me since I came home?
Different to say the least.
I've said it a thousand times already and this is one of the few good things. Is that, all the volume on so many things is turned down. I don't really get as riled up over things as I used to. Don't really take things as seriously anymore.
Like this, I burnt through $5,000 the other day furnishing my new apartment. I even bought a gigantic television along with the stereo surround sound. Before this deployment that would've bugged the shit out of me. Spending all that money and since they are running those specials, "24 or 36 months no interest, same as cash" I put it all on credit. Which, previously would've made me absolutely batty.
This time I looked at it all, looked at the bills and said, "Hey, its just money. I'll make more."
Relationships are another thing. I've been trying to figure out what of this deployment I should tell everyone about. I mean the shrink told me that I needed to find someone to talk to about all of it and share with them as much as I could. I wanted to tell him that I told the world about most of it. 505 pages of psychotherapy courtesy of the internet.
But it doesn't change the fact that you tell people things about what went on over there and you can't help but see that somewhat blank look in their eyes. And you wonder to yourself, "Am I not explaining this well enough, or are they just dumber than a box of shit?"
It strains things a bit, because I want to tell them. God knows, I've always had a lot to say. But I haven't figured out whether or not to tell them the shitty things. Will they look at me differently, will they just think of me as damaged goods now? I mean the funny stuff is easy to tell them, everybody likes a funny story. But how far do I go? Haven't figured that one out yet, that's a work currently in progress.
Work? Is a snap now. Between the hours we worked in Afghanistan and the difficulty of some of that work over there makes a job (any job) seem pretty inconsequential. Most days I work an 8 hour shift, some days I get stuck with or volunteer for overtime and that takes me up to 16 hours. Well all things considered, in Afghanistan some of my shifts lasted around a week, 16 hours is nothing. Not to mention here no one is trying to kill me.
I went public with the blog again. So we'll see how long that lasts. I don't really think there is anything in there that could get me into any real trouble so we'll just see what happens. But I'm sure that some of you would like to see what happened after I went private. So its all there, minus a few. But don't worry I've got the whole thing saved.
Lately, I've been commenting on the differences between life over there and life here. I couldn't help it, its the lens through which I look at the world now. So I think there's some good stuff in there. But I troll the newspapers and find something I want to write about and then throw it out there.
I've rekindled some old friendships since I've been back. I started regularly speaking to my buddy "J". He's the guy if you can remember this, that I wrote the "copenhagen jerk" story about. He's been keeping my mind as focused as possible. He's just one of those guys that I can always talk to because he knows what it means to be a soldier and he knows me about as well as anyone.
I'm even heading back to school. Either in the spring, but I may have to put it off until the fall so that my GI Bill has time to go through. I found out that since I deployed and I used up all my previous GI Bill entitlement that I get 12 more months of benefits. Sweet.
But here let me tell you how retarded the military and government can be sometimes. The old GI Bill had 36 months of entitlements. And I think that the new one has 48. So if you used the old one then you can switch over to the new one, but here's the catch. If you used say, 30 months of the old GI Bill, you can only use 6 months of the new one for a total of 36 months. However, if, like me, you used all 36 months of the old one, you can use 12 months of the new one. For a total of 48. Well you can always count on Uncle Sam to make perfect sense.
Oh, another good one. I applied for my retroactive stop loss pay. $500 a month for the 7 months I was stop lossed. But of course, something went wrong. I applied, sent all the paperwork in. Filled out all the forms online. Then a couple days later I received an email that said that my paperwork and the months that I said I was stop lossed were not in agreement. Of course not, why would they be. I was only there, I wouldn't know what months I was stop lossed or anything. So stay tuned we'll have to see how that goes.
So I think that's about it. Life has successfully returned to something resembling normalcy. But its always there. A little bit of Afghanistan sneaks into my life at the weirdest or most inappropriate times. I was standing outside a bar one night. Some kid set off a firecracker and I just about jumped out of my pants. I was walking through the mall and I saw a little girl with a hoodie on and my mind saw that little Afghani girl with the burned face. Just the other day I flushed the toilet, and then I flushed it again. Just cuz I can...
So anyway, that's pretty much it.
I'm going out to my cousin's for dinner. Should be a blast, I even found a pair of jeans that are way too big so that I've got room to expand. I could go into the whole remember to be thankful thing, but I figure that when you see the copious amounts of food on the table today. You aren't going to need to be told that.
Later,
I love you Mom...
Nov 26, 2009
Nov 24, 2009
Smoking is healthier than fascism...
What has become of this great land of ours?
This land where freedom is "supposed" to be so cherished.
John Locke, who was so influential of our founding fathers that much of his writing was quoted almost verbatim in the Declaration of Independence, said that every person has an inherent right to life, liberty and property. (Or some variance thereof.)
So anyway, what the hell am I talking about? Just read an article about a bar in Chicago that is flouting the smoking ban and has put up rooms where smokers can congregate and smoke. The price of admission is putting a little something into the pot so that the business can pay the smoking fines that are generated by them allowing you to smoke.
Not a bad deal if you ask me. And yes, I am a smoker. And yes, I know I shouldn't be. There is no doubt whatsoever that smoking is about the stupidest thing that I do. But I'm still troubled by all of this.
Seems like a new smoking ban is going into effect somewhere, every day. Another place where ole' Uncle Sam is going to tell you what you have to do with your own property.
Do I think that people have a right to live smoke free lives? Sure I do. So stay the hell away from me. LOL. Its not that. I don't mind people wanting to stay away from smoke. I understand the health concerns. I understand all of it. What I can't understand is why they think that smoking's unhealthiness makes it okay for them to intrude into other people's lives.
Now the ban has gone into effect here and has been for a while. Bars were hit with it. Restaurants and many other places. The only ones of those that I want to talk about are private businesses. Those businesses owned by private citizens.
Who the fuck does the government think it is telling them what they can and cannot do with their own property?
You own something, it is your right to do with it as you please. Or so you would think. How would you like the government telling you what you can do in your car, or in your backyard, or in your shed, or in your garage, or in your house? I personally, don't see the difference between that property and a business property.
But maybe I'm stupid.
Okay, so businesses are open to the public. And the public is supposed to be free of smoke. Okay, well don't most businesses have a policy that (usually is up on the wall) that says we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone for any reason. Or some such shit. I say you've got every right to decide who comes into your home, you should have every right to decide who comes into your business.
I'd have to put it at this. A bar or restaurant or private business of any kind is inherently different than a public service. Any government entity or building, I get them being smoke free. Hospitals, I don't think anyone is going to argue that hospitals should be smoking. And if they did, I don't think the hospitals would go for it. Private or otherwise. Government or hospitals, these are places that EVERYONE HAS to go. I'd say that would be a good standard for smoking bans.
IF A BUSINESS OR RESIDENCE OR ENTITY OR BUILDING OF ANY KIND IS OF SUCH A PURPOSE THAT IT WOULD REQUIRE EVERY PERSON TO HAVE REASON TO ENTER OTHER THAN THEIR OWN CHOOSING, THEN THAT BUSINESS, RESIDENCE, ENTITY, BUILDING OR WHATEVER SHALL BE SMOKE FREE.
So gas stations, grocery stores, government buildings, schools, and all of that...smoke free.
Anywhere that you choose for yourself whether or not you go in there...can smoke.
The United States, during my lifetime has become a nation of "bans". Ban this, ban that. Its bad for you...ban it. Somebody got hurt...ban it. Some group doesn't like it...ban it. Someone was offended...ban it. Ban, ban, ban. FUCK YOU.
I like my America free. I love the freedoms that I used to have.
I joined the military under the assumption that I was going to be fighting all enemies, foreign and domestic. Well, I'd have to say that the nanny state is a domestic enemy. So, this begins my fight.
What you do with your own property is your business. Regardless if yous serve alcohol for money. Its yours and if you want to smoke in that building, so be it.
If you don't like smoking, don't go in there.
If you don't like smoking, don't work there.
Keep your preferences out of everyone elses business.
Next we'll talk about drugs, and watch the phone lines light up.
Later.
This land where freedom is "supposed" to be so cherished.
John Locke, who was so influential of our founding fathers that much of his writing was quoted almost verbatim in the Declaration of Independence, said that every person has an inherent right to life, liberty and property. (Or some variance thereof.)
So anyway, what the hell am I talking about? Just read an article about a bar in Chicago that is flouting the smoking ban and has put up rooms where smokers can congregate and smoke. The price of admission is putting a little something into the pot so that the business can pay the smoking fines that are generated by them allowing you to smoke.
Not a bad deal if you ask me. And yes, I am a smoker. And yes, I know I shouldn't be. There is no doubt whatsoever that smoking is about the stupidest thing that I do. But I'm still troubled by all of this.
Seems like a new smoking ban is going into effect somewhere, every day. Another place where ole' Uncle Sam is going to tell you what you have to do with your own property.
Do I think that people have a right to live smoke free lives? Sure I do. So stay the hell away from me. LOL. Its not that. I don't mind people wanting to stay away from smoke. I understand the health concerns. I understand all of it. What I can't understand is why they think that smoking's unhealthiness makes it okay for them to intrude into other people's lives.
Now the ban has gone into effect here and has been for a while. Bars were hit with it. Restaurants and many other places. The only ones of those that I want to talk about are private businesses. Those businesses owned by private citizens.
Who the fuck does the government think it is telling them what they can and cannot do with their own property?
You own something, it is your right to do with it as you please. Or so you would think. How would you like the government telling you what you can do in your car, or in your backyard, or in your shed, or in your garage, or in your house? I personally, don't see the difference between that property and a business property.
But maybe I'm stupid.
Okay, so businesses are open to the public. And the public is supposed to be free of smoke. Okay, well don't most businesses have a policy that (usually is up on the wall) that says we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone for any reason. Or some such shit. I say you've got every right to decide who comes into your home, you should have every right to decide who comes into your business.
I'd have to put it at this. A bar or restaurant or private business of any kind is inherently different than a public service. Any government entity or building, I get them being smoke free. Hospitals, I don't think anyone is going to argue that hospitals should be smoking. And if they did, I don't think the hospitals would go for it. Private or otherwise. Government or hospitals, these are places that EVERYONE HAS to go. I'd say that would be a good standard for smoking bans.
IF A BUSINESS OR RESIDENCE OR ENTITY OR BUILDING OF ANY KIND IS OF SUCH A PURPOSE THAT IT WOULD REQUIRE EVERY PERSON TO HAVE REASON TO ENTER OTHER THAN THEIR OWN CHOOSING, THEN THAT BUSINESS, RESIDENCE, ENTITY, BUILDING OR WHATEVER SHALL BE SMOKE FREE.
So gas stations, grocery stores, government buildings, schools, and all of that...smoke free.
Anywhere that you choose for yourself whether or not you go in there...can smoke.
The United States, during my lifetime has become a nation of "bans". Ban this, ban that. Its bad for you...ban it. Somebody got hurt...ban it. Some group doesn't like it...ban it. Someone was offended...ban it. Ban, ban, ban. FUCK YOU.
I like my America free. I love the freedoms that I used to have.
I joined the military under the assumption that I was going to be fighting all enemies, foreign and domestic. Well, I'd have to say that the nanny state is a domestic enemy. So, this begins my fight.
What you do with your own property is your business. Regardless if yous serve alcohol for money. Its yours and if you want to smoke in that building, so be it.
If you don't like smoking, don't go in there.
If you don't like smoking, don't work there.
Keep your preferences out of everyone elses business.
Next we'll talk about drugs, and watch the phone lines light up.
Later.
What A Wonderful World...
So tonight I got on the internet and started reading the news. I was reading the Chicago Tribune. You know, keeping it local.
I only read two articles before I stopped and started thinking. (Everyone remember what a bad thing it can be when I get to thinking?)
Chicago Cop Steals $1 Million
22 Year Old Kid killed in Afghanistan.
Two more opposite headlines I couldn't really think of. I mean I guess there are some similarities. Both involve really shitty things happening.
But I guess they show the dichotomy of the world. I think that might be the right word. Dichotomy...a division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different. At least that's what the dictionary on my computer says.
On the one hand you have a greedy asshole, who is entrusted with protecting and serving the public. Then on top of that he is given the added responsibility of handling money for his fellow officers and what does he do? He steals it. Oh, how very Chicago of you.
Then on the other hand you have this kid. 22 years old, who just does what he has to do to support his wife and child. I didn't know the kid, but that is all I need to know about him. He joined the military to support his young wife and child. Enough said. Unfortunately, in his case, that little bit of loyalty, diligence, and responsibility got him killed.
I could go on and on with all the things that ran through my head reading these two articles but suffice it to say that I damn near started questioning whether or not there is any justice in the world. Now for those of you who aren't familiar with Chicago let me lay it out for you.
Corruption capital of the world. Bar none. No one can even hold a candle. Chicago has been family owned and operated for well at least 20 years (and that's just the kid.) So if you follow this story one of two things will happen. The cop will make a big deal out of it, he'll got to trial and he'll get off. Or this will drop off the face of the earth, he'll be quietly allowed to retire and move to Florida to live next to John Burge. The other asshole cop that beat confessions out of people and now lives high off the hog with his $80,000 a year pension.
They get to do that, and this kid goes down for a dirt nap, and his wife is widowed at 22 and the child is fatherless at 15 months.
I've got an idea, take both of those shitty cops pensions and give them to this young man's wife and daughter. Then set these two pricks in a car and drive it down a road straight into an IED.
But that won't happen.
Loyalty, honesty, responsibility and service-0
Dishonesty, theft, violence and corruption-2
And the winner is...
Later,
I love you Mom.
I only read two articles before I stopped and started thinking. (Everyone remember what a bad thing it can be when I get to thinking?)
Chicago Cop Steals $1 Million
22 Year Old Kid killed in Afghanistan.
Two more opposite headlines I couldn't really think of. I mean I guess there are some similarities. Both involve really shitty things happening.
But I guess they show the dichotomy of the world. I think that might be the right word. Dichotomy...a division or contrast between two things that are or are represented as being opposed or entirely different. At least that's what the dictionary on my computer says.
On the one hand you have a greedy asshole, who is entrusted with protecting and serving the public. Then on top of that he is given the added responsibility of handling money for his fellow officers and what does he do? He steals it. Oh, how very Chicago of you.
Then on the other hand you have this kid. 22 years old, who just does what he has to do to support his wife and child. I didn't know the kid, but that is all I need to know about him. He joined the military to support his young wife and child. Enough said. Unfortunately, in his case, that little bit of loyalty, diligence, and responsibility got him killed.
I could go on and on with all the things that ran through my head reading these two articles but suffice it to say that I damn near started questioning whether or not there is any justice in the world. Now for those of you who aren't familiar with Chicago let me lay it out for you.
Corruption capital of the world. Bar none. No one can even hold a candle. Chicago has been family owned and operated for well at least 20 years (and that's just the kid.) So if you follow this story one of two things will happen. The cop will make a big deal out of it, he'll got to trial and he'll get off. Or this will drop off the face of the earth, he'll be quietly allowed to retire and move to Florida to live next to John Burge. The other asshole cop that beat confessions out of people and now lives high off the hog with his $80,000 a year pension.
They get to do that, and this kid goes down for a dirt nap, and his wife is widowed at 22 and the child is fatherless at 15 months.
I've got an idea, take both of those shitty cops pensions and give them to this young man's wife and daughter. Then set these two pricks in a car and drive it down a road straight into an IED.
But that won't happen.
Loyalty, honesty, responsibility and service-0
Dishonesty, theft, violence and corruption-2
And the winner is...
Later,
I love you Mom.
Oct 31, 2009
Oct 28, 2009
It's Funny What God Will Say To You, If You Just Stop To Listen...
So a few things have happened since I last wrote.
Remember a while back when I told you about how the war in Afghanistan had basically turned the volume down on everything back home? Well, I came back, started back to work and inevitably succumbed to acting and feeling just like everyone else. (Something that I swore to myself I wouldn't do.) But I went and did it.
I started to bitch about my job. I started to feel burdened by my family and friends. I started to whine about not having enough money. I became lazy, complacent, and an overall slug.
This all happened pretty quickly given that I have been home for just two months.
But the transformation hadn't taken full and complete effect. The volume was still low enough that I could hear the things that I needed to hear. And I think that I may have gotten a little kick in the ass from the big guy upstairs. At least I hope that's what it was. Either that or it was a polite message of "quit yer bitchin!"
So I ride the CTA (Chicago transit authority) buses and trains to work. Which most people consider to be a pain in the ass. However, I consider parking in downtown Chicago to be an even larger pain in the ass. So I have selected the lesser of two evils.
Anyway, so I was standing at the bus stop waiting on the bus. When the guy next to me said, "Excuse me, but could you give me a hand getting on the bus?"
I looked over and saw a guy, probably mid twenties, good looking kid. Except for a few glaring items. He was in a wheelchair, and he was minus a left leg.
I told him that I'd help him, and what did he need me to do? He replied, just to watch the chair as he got on the bus. (Chicago has kneeling buses. The shocks compress so that the bus basically kneels down so that he can get on the bus.)
Easy enough.
So we're sitting there waiting, and I can't help but ask. What happened?
He told me he lost his limbs in an IED blast in Afghanistan, not far from where I had been stomping around not more than 70 days ago. He his leg in 2002, when he was 18 years old.
So we swapped a few pleasantries, what unit we were each in, where we were, what we had done there and blah, blah, blah.
Then (while trying to ignore the elephant in our collective living room.) I asked what he had been up to since then.
(Here's where I got what I think is my message from God.)
He got home in 2002, had to rehab his injuries for a year. Then they sent him home. However, all the while he had been in the hospital he had been taking classes on the internet toward his bachelors degree. Now since he was 100% disabled he got a monthly check from the government that enabled him to keep on going to school. He was working on his masters in psychology, hoping to go on to get his PSY D. So that he could be a psychiatrist or psychologist or whatever.
I asked what he wanted to do with that, and he stated very matter of factly (like I should've known) that he wanted to work with Vets and help get them over PTSD.
We talked a bit more and I got a few other things out of him. Turns out he is an avid rock climber. (Yeah, only one leg and he decides to climb rocks.) On top of that, he runs 5 miles a day.
This one threw me off, I was like, "Dude, you're in a wheelchair. What gives?" Oh, he only uses the wheelchair for trips around the city. That way he doesn't have to wait in any lines, and its just easier to scoot a chair around than it is to deal with the prosthetic limb he's got, which he says hasn't been fitted exactly right yet so it still hurts over long distances. Not to mention people give him free stuff a lot.
That's a boy! Anyone who's ever been in the military will tell you that you take full advantage of every opportunity afforded you. And if a wheelchair will get you some free stuff every now and then and shoot you to the front of the line. So be it.
I couldn't resist. When we got to the train station I asked him if I could buy him a beer. He said sure, and then said, "See I already got a free beer out of this ride!"
Shithead.
So we sat down at the bar and ordered up a couple cold ones, and I started to pick his brain some more.
Do you work?
Yeah, I got a job at a mental hospital.
How much do you work?
40 a week.
Dude, and you go to school full time?
Yeah.
How do you pull that off?
I can sleep when I'm dead.
What's with all the running?
The running prosthetic I have is the only one that fits right, so I use it. Thinking about running a marathon too.
Of course, why wouldn't you? And I have a helluva time getting off my ass and going to the gym.
Well, (he looks down at where his leg should be) what the hell is your problem?
I don't know.
Do you ever get pissed about losing your leg?
I did, but then I just figured, what the fuck. Its a leg, its gone, and its not coming back. What's the use of sitting around being mad about it. Most guys in that hospital were mad about what happened to them. I fell in with them for a while, until I realized that I should be more happy than mad.
What the hell are you talking about?
I'm not dead...and given the fact that I'm not dead, means that I'm still alive.
Alright, Captain obvious, what are you talking about?
I'm not dead, sure I'm missing a leg, but I'm still breathing. And so long as I'm still breathing I can do something. Legs are a convenience. That's all. They make life easier. They don't make it possible. You don't need a leg to live. So fuck the leg. I'm gonna live. Embrace the suck, right?
I looked at him and laughed. Then explained to him this whole blog thing of mine.
We shot the shit for a few more minutes until his train was boarding and off he went.
I sat there, watching him roll away. And couldn't help but be ashamed of myself.
How dare I be pissed about...anything really. I've pretty much got it all. I've got a good job, all limbs attached and working, brain functional (for the most part), a family and friends that love me, and a million other things that are going for me.
But I manage to piss and moan and feel depressed about a few little things that if I were in Afghanistan wouldn't even register as problems.
This guy does more than I do, with less than I have.
So it turned into a little motivational shot in the arm. This is a guy who truly understands embracing the suck. Problems are only real if you let them stop you. Maybe things got altered a little bit for this guy, but he didn't stop. As a matter of fact he probably sped up!
This guy turned what most people would consider a big road block, into nothing more than an inconsequential speed bump in his life.
And here I am with the balls to complain about having to work 10 pm to 6 am.
Message received. Good talk. Hope to have another one again soon!
Later,
I love you Mom...
Remember a while back when I told you about how the war in Afghanistan had basically turned the volume down on everything back home? Well, I came back, started back to work and inevitably succumbed to acting and feeling just like everyone else. (Something that I swore to myself I wouldn't do.) But I went and did it.
I started to bitch about my job. I started to feel burdened by my family and friends. I started to whine about not having enough money. I became lazy, complacent, and an overall slug.
This all happened pretty quickly given that I have been home for just two months.
But the transformation hadn't taken full and complete effect. The volume was still low enough that I could hear the things that I needed to hear. And I think that I may have gotten a little kick in the ass from the big guy upstairs. At least I hope that's what it was. Either that or it was a polite message of "quit yer bitchin!"
So I ride the CTA (Chicago transit authority) buses and trains to work. Which most people consider to be a pain in the ass. However, I consider parking in downtown Chicago to be an even larger pain in the ass. So I have selected the lesser of two evils.
Anyway, so I was standing at the bus stop waiting on the bus. When the guy next to me said, "Excuse me, but could you give me a hand getting on the bus?"
I looked over and saw a guy, probably mid twenties, good looking kid. Except for a few glaring items. He was in a wheelchair, and he was minus a left leg.
I told him that I'd help him, and what did he need me to do? He replied, just to watch the chair as he got on the bus. (Chicago has kneeling buses. The shocks compress so that the bus basically kneels down so that he can get on the bus.)
Easy enough.
So we're sitting there waiting, and I can't help but ask. What happened?
He told me he lost his limbs in an IED blast in Afghanistan, not far from where I had been stomping around not more than 70 days ago. He his leg in 2002, when he was 18 years old.
So we swapped a few pleasantries, what unit we were each in, where we were, what we had done there and blah, blah, blah.
Then (while trying to ignore the elephant in our collective living room.) I asked what he had been up to since then.
(Here's where I got what I think is my message from God.)
He got home in 2002, had to rehab his injuries for a year. Then they sent him home. However, all the while he had been in the hospital he had been taking classes on the internet toward his bachelors degree. Now since he was 100% disabled he got a monthly check from the government that enabled him to keep on going to school. He was working on his masters in psychology, hoping to go on to get his PSY D. So that he could be a psychiatrist or psychologist or whatever.
I asked what he wanted to do with that, and he stated very matter of factly (like I should've known) that he wanted to work with Vets and help get them over PTSD.
We talked a bit more and I got a few other things out of him. Turns out he is an avid rock climber. (Yeah, only one leg and he decides to climb rocks.) On top of that, he runs 5 miles a day.
This one threw me off, I was like, "Dude, you're in a wheelchair. What gives?" Oh, he only uses the wheelchair for trips around the city. That way he doesn't have to wait in any lines, and its just easier to scoot a chair around than it is to deal with the prosthetic limb he's got, which he says hasn't been fitted exactly right yet so it still hurts over long distances. Not to mention people give him free stuff a lot.
That's a boy! Anyone who's ever been in the military will tell you that you take full advantage of every opportunity afforded you. And if a wheelchair will get you some free stuff every now and then and shoot you to the front of the line. So be it.
I couldn't resist. When we got to the train station I asked him if I could buy him a beer. He said sure, and then said, "See I already got a free beer out of this ride!"
Shithead.
So we sat down at the bar and ordered up a couple cold ones, and I started to pick his brain some more.
Do you work?
Yeah, I got a job at a mental hospital.
How much do you work?
40 a week.
Dude, and you go to school full time?
Yeah.
How do you pull that off?
I can sleep when I'm dead.
What's with all the running?
The running prosthetic I have is the only one that fits right, so I use it. Thinking about running a marathon too.
Of course, why wouldn't you? And I have a helluva time getting off my ass and going to the gym.
Well, (he looks down at where his leg should be) what the hell is your problem?
I don't know.
Do you ever get pissed about losing your leg?
I did, but then I just figured, what the fuck. Its a leg, its gone, and its not coming back. What's the use of sitting around being mad about it. Most guys in that hospital were mad about what happened to them. I fell in with them for a while, until I realized that I should be more happy than mad.
What the hell are you talking about?
I'm not dead...and given the fact that I'm not dead, means that I'm still alive.
Alright, Captain obvious, what are you talking about?
I'm not dead, sure I'm missing a leg, but I'm still breathing. And so long as I'm still breathing I can do something. Legs are a convenience. That's all. They make life easier. They don't make it possible. You don't need a leg to live. So fuck the leg. I'm gonna live. Embrace the suck, right?
I looked at him and laughed. Then explained to him this whole blog thing of mine.
We shot the shit for a few more minutes until his train was boarding and off he went.
I sat there, watching him roll away. And couldn't help but be ashamed of myself.
How dare I be pissed about...anything really. I've pretty much got it all. I've got a good job, all limbs attached and working, brain functional (for the most part), a family and friends that love me, and a million other things that are going for me.
But I manage to piss and moan and feel depressed about a few little things that if I were in Afghanistan wouldn't even register as problems.
This guy does more than I do, with less than I have.
So it turned into a little motivational shot in the arm. This is a guy who truly understands embracing the suck. Problems are only real if you let them stop you. Maybe things got altered a little bit for this guy, but he didn't stop. As a matter of fact he probably sped up!
This guy turned what most people would consider a big road block, into nothing more than an inconsequential speed bump in his life.
And here I am with the balls to complain about having to work 10 pm to 6 am.
Message received. Good talk. Hope to have another one again soon!
Later,
I love you Mom...
Oct 21, 2009
Observations...
I've kept telling all of you that sooner or later I would pull my head out of my ass and share some of my observations with you about being home and coming home and seeing everyone and everything through a different set of spectacles.
So here goes...
(and this one will probably sound redundant) I've noticed how INCREDIBLY spoiled and RIDICULOUSLY entitled the lion's share of Americans are. Especially those of us 30 and under.
I mean its a trip just watching it. I was in a Wal-mart the other day. (I'm not proud of it, but I needed batteries.) And it was one of those super Wal-Marts. Thing was the size of an airplane hangar. I actually heard a guy walking around in there say, "I hate this f-ing place, they never have anything!"
Dude, are you serious? They don't have anything here. They have EVERYTHING! There isn't a thing you could possibly need that you can't find in Wal-Mart.
Oh, and by the way my personal opinion of Wal-Mart is that they are fascist sacks of shit who do not deserve to live. They pay their workers next to nothing, and actually have infrastructure in place that helps their employees collect welfare benefits from the government so that they don't bitch so much about how badly they're being f-ed by their corporate masters.
When I got home and I went into a store for the first time, I dove right in. I went to the largest outdoor mall in my area. Every single store under the sun. Everything from glow in the dark condoms to ladies plus sized clothing. I was awed. I walked around like a kid at Disney land. It took me a good half an hour to wrap my brain around it all.
I couldn't help but think to myself, "Who the fuck needs all this shit?" Its no wonder the whole country is in debt. But that's a tired argument. Simple fact is that people need to discipline themselves to live within their means, however meager they might be.
I came from a place where I thought I was king of the world if I was able to buy a 23 oz can of Arizona Lemon Iced Tea. I never even bothered to think about what brand of toothpaste I wanted, because I was going to get what they had at the PX which was the size of my closet, or whatever you guys had sent to me.
I didn't even think of what kind of soap I would use. Because I would use whatever I could get my hands on.
I thought that a package of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups was a little slice of heaven.
A cupcake was orgasmic!
I wasn't even the slightest bit bothered by my drinks not being cold.
And a million other little indignities that no red blooded American would tolerate here.
So here's the observation. How about a little appreciation America? Not of soldiers, I'm not talking about that. Appreciation of the standard of living here.
It makes me laugh that there has been much made of the fact that mine is the first generation that will not have a higher standard of living than its predecessor. All I have to say about that is...have you ever heard of critical mass? Basically, when you grow so big that you can't grow any larger without crushing yourself underneath the weight of your own massiveness. (And even if that's not what it means, that's how I understand it so that's what we're going with.)
We don't need a higher standard of living. We need to lower our standards.
Not everyone needs a new car, a $200,000 house, a 60 inch TV, and all the toys that most of these jokers are running around with.
Another observation that is related to the first one.
I hang out with a decidedly blue collar crowd. Cops, prison guards, truckers, electricians, plumbers, factory workers, warehouse workers, beer delivery guys, and the like.
Now most of these guys are great, and they are hard working and dedicated and true blue down to the bone. And I love them for it.
Yet there's some of them who piss me off. Now here's where I get pissed. Given the current economic climate there aren't a lot of jobs out there. And for every job that is open currently, there are 6 workers chasing it. (Heard that on MSNBC)
So its tough out there. If you haven't got a job, you are probably going to have to do some serious "crow eating" in order to get one. In other words, swallow your pride and get a job.
Another sentence I heard out of a guys mouth, "I won't take that job, they only pay $12 an hour!"
To which I replied, "How much you making now?"
"Nothing"
"Last time I checked, twelve is twelve more than nothing!"
After which, he promptly stomped off and mumbled something about me under his breath.
Every time I see these guys, or hear about the employment situation on the news, or hear about it at work, or in a bar, or wherever, my brain rockets back to Waza Khwa Afghanistan. I see that kid (the one I gave the $20 to) and I remember him coming to the gate every single day. Not looking for a handout but asking if there was any work he could do for us. Kid couldn't have been more than 14, if that. But he showed up every day looking for work. Every single damn day!
Sure, if you lose your job that sucks. But embrace it and get on with your life. Get a new job, try a new field, take a lower paying job, do whatever you have to do to make money. Beggars cannot be choosers. Get off your ass, get out there and do something! There is nothing beneath anyone.
Any legal labor for which someone is willing to give you money is an honorable profession. Hey, if you are really hard up, join the Army. They're always looking for people.
Working for slave wages, to me, is better than sitting on your ass and collecting your government cheese. All that makes you is a dependent little nothing, who can't live unless your Uncle supports you. (Get it, "Uncle" Sam)
But that is an entirely different rant.
Moving on, my last observation for today will be this...
Why is it, that so many people feel the need to thank me for what I just did this past year? People I don't know, people I meet, pretty much everyone. Will talk to me and find out that I was in Afghanistan and then inevitably the next sentence is, "Well thank you so very much for what you did for us. I know a lot of people say it, but I really mean it."
I have to say though, the look on the guys face when I asked him, "What you think everyone else was just bullshitting me?"
Uh, well, I don't, Well, what I meant was...and on like that he went.
Until I let him off the hook and told him I was just kidding.
Now the thanks don't really bother me. I appreciate them. I am just trying to understand why people feel the need to come over and talk to me when they don't even know who I am. But I usually get a free beer or two out of the deal so its not all bad.
Now here's something that only guys have said to me. And this really does, PISS ME OFF!!!
I've probably imagined myself pummeling about 10 guys in my time since getting home when they come up to me and after exchanging pleasantries and accepting their thanks they say something to the effect of...
(If its an old guy) Yeah when I was younger I thought about joining the service. But it didn't work out because
A. I met a girl
B. I got a girl pregnant
C. They wouldn't take me
D. There was no war going on (am I the only one who thinks that "because there is a war going on" has got to be the dumbest reason ever to join the military?)
E. Or any number of other random reasons
(If its a young guy) I wanted to join the military but...
A. I've got a girlfriend
B. I've got kids
C. I couldn't leave my family
D. I got stoned too much and failed the drug test
E. My (insert ailment here) won't get past the medical test
F. Or any number of other random resons
Its not that I want to pummel them for not having joined the military. I couldn't care any less about that than I already do. What I want to beat their asses for is their almost pathological need to explain themselves to me. I'm going to paraphrase Jack Nicholson here and say, I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain anything to anyone for any reason. Enough said. Besides my opinion of people who don't join the military is pretty neutral, well maybe not. I'd have to say that the bumper sticker on my mother's car is an accurate description.
"My son serves, so that yours doesn't have to"
I like that.
Alright, I'm done for now.
Later,
I love you Mom...
So here goes...
(and this one will probably sound redundant) I've noticed how INCREDIBLY spoiled and RIDICULOUSLY entitled the lion's share of Americans are. Especially those of us 30 and under.
I mean its a trip just watching it. I was in a Wal-mart the other day. (I'm not proud of it, but I needed batteries.) And it was one of those super Wal-Marts. Thing was the size of an airplane hangar. I actually heard a guy walking around in there say, "I hate this f-ing place, they never have anything!"
Dude, are you serious? They don't have anything here. They have EVERYTHING! There isn't a thing you could possibly need that you can't find in Wal-Mart.
Oh, and by the way my personal opinion of Wal-Mart is that they are fascist sacks of shit who do not deserve to live. They pay their workers next to nothing, and actually have infrastructure in place that helps their employees collect welfare benefits from the government so that they don't bitch so much about how badly they're being f-ed by their corporate masters.
When I got home and I went into a store for the first time, I dove right in. I went to the largest outdoor mall in my area. Every single store under the sun. Everything from glow in the dark condoms to ladies plus sized clothing. I was awed. I walked around like a kid at Disney land. It took me a good half an hour to wrap my brain around it all.
I couldn't help but think to myself, "Who the fuck needs all this shit?" Its no wonder the whole country is in debt. But that's a tired argument. Simple fact is that people need to discipline themselves to live within their means, however meager they might be.
I came from a place where I thought I was king of the world if I was able to buy a 23 oz can of Arizona Lemon Iced Tea. I never even bothered to think about what brand of toothpaste I wanted, because I was going to get what they had at the PX which was the size of my closet, or whatever you guys had sent to me.
I didn't even think of what kind of soap I would use. Because I would use whatever I could get my hands on.
I thought that a package of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups was a little slice of heaven.
A cupcake was orgasmic!
I wasn't even the slightest bit bothered by my drinks not being cold.
And a million other little indignities that no red blooded American would tolerate here.
So here's the observation. How about a little appreciation America? Not of soldiers, I'm not talking about that. Appreciation of the standard of living here.
It makes me laugh that there has been much made of the fact that mine is the first generation that will not have a higher standard of living than its predecessor. All I have to say about that is...have you ever heard of critical mass? Basically, when you grow so big that you can't grow any larger without crushing yourself underneath the weight of your own massiveness. (And even if that's not what it means, that's how I understand it so that's what we're going with.)
We don't need a higher standard of living. We need to lower our standards.
Not everyone needs a new car, a $200,000 house, a 60 inch TV, and all the toys that most of these jokers are running around with.
Another observation that is related to the first one.
I hang out with a decidedly blue collar crowd. Cops, prison guards, truckers, electricians, plumbers, factory workers, warehouse workers, beer delivery guys, and the like.
Now most of these guys are great, and they are hard working and dedicated and true blue down to the bone. And I love them for it.
Yet there's some of them who piss me off. Now here's where I get pissed. Given the current economic climate there aren't a lot of jobs out there. And for every job that is open currently, there are 6 workers chasing it. (Heard that on MSNBC)
So its tough out there. If you haven't got a job, you are probably going to have to do some serious "crow eating" in order to get one. In other words, swallow your pride and get a job.
Another sentence I heard out of a guys mouth, "I won't take that job, they only pay $12 an hour!"
To which I replied, "How much you making now?"
"Nothing"
"Last time I checked, twelve is twelve more than nothing!"
After which, he promptly stomped off and mumbled something about me under his breath.
Every time I see these guys, or hear about the employment situation on the news, or hear about it at work, or in a bar, or wherever, my brain rockets back to Waza Khwa Afghanistan. I see that kid (the one I gave the $20 to) and I remember him coming to the gate every single day. Not looking for a handout but asking if there was any work he could do for us. Kid couldn't have been more than 14, if that. But he showed up every day looking for work. Every single damn day!
Sure, if you lose your job that sucks. But embrace it and get on with your life. Get a new job, try a new field, take a lower paying job, do whatever you have to do to make money. Beggars cannot be choosers. Get off your ass, get out there and do something! There is nothing beneath anyone.
Any legal labor for which someone is willing to give you money is an honorable profession. Hey, if you are really hard up, join the Army. They're always looking for people.
Working for slave wages, to me, is better than sitting on your ass and collecting your government cheese. All that makes you is a dependent little nothing, who can't live unless your Uncle supports you. (Get it, "Uncle" Sam)
But that is an entirely different rant.
Moving on, my last observation for today will be this...
Why is it, that so many people feel the need to thank me for what I just did this past year? People I don't know, people I meet, pretty much everyone. Will talk to me and find out that I was in Afghanistan and then inevitably the next sentence is, "Well thank you so very much for what you did for us. I know a lot of people say it, but I really mean it."
I have to say though, the look on the guys face when I asked him, "What you think everyone else was just bullshitting me?"
Uh, well, I don't, Well, what I meant was...and on like that he went.
Until I let him off the hook and told him I was just kidding.
Now the thanks don't really bother me. I appreciate them. I am just trying to understand why people feel the need to come over and talk to me when they don't even know who I am. But I usually get a free beer or two out of the deal so its not all bad.
Now here's something that only guys have said to me. And this really does, PISS ME OFF!!!
I've probably imagined myself pummeling about 10 guys in my time since getting home when they come up to me and after exchanging pleasantries and accepting their thanks they say something to the effect of...
(If its an old guy) Yeah when I was younger I thought about joining the service. But it didn't work out because
A. I met a girl
B. I got a girl pregnant
C. They wouldn't take me
D. There was no war going on (am I the only one who thinks that "because there is a war going on" has got to be the dumbest reason ever to join the military?)
E. Or any number of other random reasons
(If its a young guy) I wanted to join the military but...
A. I've got a girlfriend
B. I've got kids
C. I couldn't leave my family
D. I got stoned too much and failed the drug test
E. My (insert ailment here) won't get past the medical test
F. Or any number of other random resons
Its not that I want to pummel them for not having joined the military. I couldn't care any less about that than I already do. What I want to beat their asses for is their almost pathological need to explain themselves to me. I'm going to paraphrase Jack Nicholson here and say, I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain anything to anyone for any reason. Enough said. Besides my opinion of people who don't join the military is pretty neutral, well maybe not. I'd have to say that the bumper sticker on my mother's car is an accurate description.
"My son serves, so that yours doesn't have to"
I like that.
Alright, I'm done for now.
Later,
I love you Mom...
Oct 11, 2009
Well, I Don't Know What To Tell Ya...
Alright, so I have been out of the loop for quite a while. Not really, I have been pretty well drunk for about a month and a half now. Don't worry, this is not unusual. But its finally happened.
The hammer has finally dropped.
The party's over.
The fat lady sang.
Its all over...
I...have...to...go...back...to...WORK TOMORROW!!!!
So all the fun is now over. Back to the workaday grind.
So hopefully, the plan is to get back to work and begin doing some productive things with my days. You know, working out, working, getting some editing done and just being a productive member of society again. As opposed to hanging out in the drunken limbo that my life became after returning from deployment.
Everything is fine, I'm doing good, and I have a few world events and trends that I am going to comment on very soon...I hope.
Anyways,
Later,
I love you Mom...
The hammer has finally dropped.
The party's over.
The fat lady sang.
Its all over...
I...have...to...go...back...to...WORK TOMORROW!!!!
So all the fun is now over. Back to the workaday grind.
So hopefully, the plan is to get back to work and begin doing some productive things with my days. You know, working out, working, getting some editing done and just being a productive member of society again. As opposed to hanging out in the drunken limbo that my life became after returning from deployment.
Everything is fine, I'm doing good, and I have a few world events and trends that I am going to comment on very soon...I hope.
Anyways,
Later,
I love you Mom...
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