Complaining Against God

Tomorrow Remedial PT begins again as does regular PT. The basic drill is the remedial group has PT at 6am Monday - Friday, except 520am on Wednesday. The others have PT Monday-Wednesday-Friday. I caught myself complaining about remedial PT, not that I have to do it, but that I am in charge of it. Again, it is not the exercise, but it is a piece of human nature that I don't like.

So when that happens I am complaining against God. The piece of human nature I am complaining against is the universal tendency of people who know a subject but don't do it to be experts in it in their own mind.

So as soon as members of the remedial group knew they actually had to do a certain exercise, they immediately have their own grand ideas about what they should be doing for an exercise program. It makes no difference that they consistently have failed to meet the standard of fitness the Army expects--they know better.

Their view of the world extends to every part of life. Who is more strident than a fat, inert couch-potato fan about what the players on the field should be doing. Players know those decisions are complex and they are much less likely to condemn other players.

No one knows more about faith than people who talk about it, but do not actually suffer, sacrifice, care for orphans, and the other things that every faith holds in common as virtuous.

Is there anyone on earth who knows more than a political talk show host about how to run the government? It is interesting to watch the commentators who actually held office versus the ones who never held office. The former office holders may howl about their favorite topic, but they also know the limits of politics--they are former office holders and generally lost an election before becoming a talking head.

Since the tendency is universal, I am guilty of it myself whenever my knowledge exceeds my practice in any given field. Most every human tendency has a good and bad side. I would like to know the good side of this one.

In the meantime I will be hearing soldiers grumble that PT is to hard, too early, too much aerobic, not enough, etc. On the bright side, they do not have pulpits and radio shows to make their ignorance influential.

New Bike for Kuwait

This morning I bought a bicycle at the PX. It's a no-name mountain bike that is too small for me. It has front and rear suspension. I can't take it with me when we leave Kuwait. So why would I buy this bike? It's $99. I am going to give it away when I leave. I have paid up to $40 to rent a good road bike for one day in San Francisco, so $99 for two or three weeks seemed like a bargain. And if I give it to a local guy when I leave, there will be one more person who likes Americans--even if he thinks we are crazy.

There are only about four miles of paved roads and the whole base is flat, so it won't be a very varied workout. But it will allow me some solitude and something to do while we wait to find out what we are doing next.

Thursday we are supposed to get sand storms. Sandstorms mean we all stay inside the tent. that should be interesting!

Sandbox: Good and Bad

Saturday disappeared for us on a flight lasted from early evening Friday till midnight Saturday. Then unloading and loading baggage and travel to our new home stretched until 10 the next morning. At that point we got the very good advice to stay up until eight pm and get our bodies into local time.

By 2pm everybody was asleep (including everyone who gave that sage advice) in our new accommodations--a 78-man tent with no empty bunks. A couple of us went to the gym at 4pm. It's a 24-hour gym which is great. The food here is also amazing. Omelettes to order for breakfast, short order and regular food for lunch and dinner, midnight chow for late workers.

The internet is spotty, but not as bad as everyone said it would be. And there's lots of sand here.

William Tell without the Apple

One night I was in the dayroom playing pool when two young soldiers (under 21) decided to start showing off for two young women they are interested in. They were playing darts and throwing the darts way too fast and not very accurately. I was not paying much attention, but I saw one of the two throwing darts and noticed the other member of this demeted duo had his head against the lower half of the dart board with the top of his head touching the bullseye. I saw another dart hit the board above William-Tell-target-wannabe's head and said, "Stop that shit right now. There is now way you two are going to stick darts in each other while I am in the room." The target idiot moved away from the board and started complaining. Target said, "He got to throw darts at me. It's my turn now. How come the white guy gets to throw darts at me and I don't get my turn. It's prejudice." I told him to file an Equal Opportunity complaint. . .and put down the darts.

If You are Reading This, I am Overseas

We left Friday afternoon. By the time you read this, I should be 6,000 miles east of home.

Business Class Upgrade!!!!

Yesterday we left on the long flight to Kuwait. As with so many other parts of this journey, it was a long day of cleaning barracks and getting ready before we finally lined up to board the buses for the airport. When we boarded the buses I got one of the best surprises I have had in years.

We had known for several days that when we flew it would be on a commercial 747. This immense plane can seat more than 400 people with 80 or so business class seats, and sometimes a dozen first class seats. We heard the seating would be by rank, which meant I would be in the main cabin with 3-4-3 ten across seating. But as we lined up to go, our commander called five of us to the front of the line. He was going to give the top scorers on the PT test business class seats.

One of them was me. I took it. Three others turned the seats down, wanting to sit with their friends. I thought about sitting in back for about a millisecond, but I decided at 55 years old I will take whatever ribbing I get for sitting up front. The other guy who took the seat is older also. We sat together and decided our old selves would enjoy the ride up front.

Rattlesnake Rodeo

Yesterday, our last full day here in Oklahoma, we went to the town of Apache to be guests at the opening day of the annual Rattlesnake Rodeo--a carnival with rides and junk food like any other carnival, but the central attraction is the rattlesnakes.

First we go into a building with a ten by twenty foot by four foot high wooden enclosure. Inside the enclosure are two retired men in boots and coveralls carrying hooks. Also in the enclosure are 50 or so rattlesnakes piled and slithering against the walls and occasionally striking at the men when poked. The more talkative of the men tells us about the snakes, their venom, their rattles with a show-and-tell format that involves holding the angry animals behind their heads and showing them around to the spectators.

At the end of the presentation, the silent handler puts a half-dozen snakes in a box and sends them to the building next door--the snake butcher shop. So we all troop next door and watch as the handlers at that show select a snake, show its markings, then cut off its head with an ax.

The guy with the microphone headset then shows us how the head keeps biting while a woman in an apron hangs the rest of the snake above a sink. While he explains she guts and skins the snake and gets the $15 per pound meat ready to sell.

If I can hook up to one of the cameras in a few days, and if we get internet access, I'll try to post some pictures. In the meantime, you can watch a video on the blog site of one of the other soldiers in my unit.