Liberal Advice from a Conservative

Yesterday I went to a lunch for consultants and industry executives in New York City.  One of the men at the lunch knows I am a soldier and was giving me advice--on how to get all the money I can from the government.

He is a very Conservative guy.  He does not like President Obama particularly for the way he spends tax money.  Having made his Conservative credentials clear, he then said he was really pissed at Obama   because "Obama makes us pay a $200 co-pay for [Army medical coverage]."  This man is a retired colonel, owns a successful business and is eligible for Medicare.  He has private medical insurance plus Tri-Care (Army) and Medicare.

Then he asked how much of a disability payment I was receiving.  

I said "None."

He was shocked.  "You should be getting disability payments.  You deserve it."  

I explained there is nothing wrong with me.  

He said, "It might take two or three physicals, but you should at least get 20 to 40 percent."  

He does.

I know there are real Conservatives who actually don't want to take government money.  But this guy was clearly like the pork-barrel senator who campaigns as a fiscal conservative and votes for every bit of spending he can bring home to his own state.  Like the Amtrak riders who want a "Quiet-Except-for-Me" car on the train.  This guy is a "Stop-Government-Spending-Except-on-Me" Conservative.

Baby Killers

In December of 1973, I came home on leave shortly after being injured in a missile explosion in Utah.  I landed at Logan Airport wearing my Air Force uniform and bandages on my right hand and right eye.  I heard "Baby Killer" as I walked through the terminal.  The Mei Lai Massacre was how many people looked at soldiers at the end of Viet Nam War.

I went to dinner last night with a friend who is not military, but very pro military.  He brought up the Army sergeant who killed 16 Afghans.  He said it was a shame.  I said I was amazed it took ten years for it to happen--especially with Americans getting killed by the Afghans they are training.

Our soldiers, like our politicians are us.  Soldiers are not beamed in from a good planet and politicians from a bad one--which is how many people talk.  We have leaders whom we elect.  We have soldiers who go to our schools and live in our neighborhoods.  Politicians, soldiers, police, teachers and all of the rest of us who take responsibility for some aspect of public life bring humanity to that job--good and bad.  The soldier who turned his weapon on civilians was on his fourth combat deployment and was diagnosed with PTSD.  His fellow soldiers get killed and maimed by people who pretend to be civilians.

The dumbest thing I heard so far was from columnist and commentator Mike Barnicle.  He said "This is a failure of the chain of command from top to bottom."  As far as I could find, Barnicle has never been a link in any chain of command.  If any of his knowledge of the military was first hand, he would know how much everyone has to trust one another and that the men in his chain of command are not jailers.

American NCOs have traditionally had more responsibility and ability to take initiative than other armies. Of course freedom can allow people to do wrong, but that is one of the costs of freedom.  Our military patrols and protects the world with less than two million soldiers, sailors, marines and airmen--including active duty, national guard and all reserves.  Soldiers with real responsibility and superior technology are the reasons we can do this.  Barnicle would have some sort of Soviet-style army where even the generals have no latitude.

I wonder if Barnicle could last through four combat tours, see his friends killed and maimed by terrorists and maintain his sanity.

200 Moms and Babies and Five Soldiers

In 1977, I flew home on leave from Germany on a long-body Douglas DC-8.  These planes were passing out commercial use, replaced by wide-body aircraft, but charter companies still flew these long, narrow planes with more than 40 rows of seats--no first class.

In the 70s when one million Americans lived in Germany (250,000 soldiers and airmen) the passengers on the cheap charters were Army wives and their kids.  In the 70s when our unit got a replacement soldier, I would assume he was 19, from the South and his 17-year-old wife was pregnant with their second child.  He needed a job with benefits.

I was on an eight-hour flight with maybe 230 wives and kids and five soldiers.  From boarding to landing this long, narrow plane echoed with 100+ kids taking crying--sometimes all at once, sometimes in a crescendo that moved from the back to the front of the plane, getting louder then growing softer as the kids got tired.

I was a pack-a-day smoker then.  Probably half the adults on the plane were in the "smoking area" in the back.  You couldn't see the front of the plane when a bunch of us lit up.  In fact, it blurred the definition of second-hand smoke when there was that much smoke in a confined space.

I thought of this flight today because a toddler was howling five rows back.  I thought 'This is SOOO much nicer than 100 kids crying.

The kid is quiet.  Quiet never happened on that charter flight.  Ahhhhhhh!!!

Wearing Uniform--First Class Idea

Today I am flying to Orlando, Florida, for three days for a scientific instruments conference.  Since I now know that in 400 days I will be a civilian again I decided to wear my uniform whenever I could.  Flying is always a good place to have a uniform.  Today I took the AirTran direct flight to Orlando from Harrisburg.  At check-in my bag was free.  The security line is so short at Harrisburg it was only quick to get through security anyway.  I had an aisle seat near the middle of the plane and AirTran boards by rows, so I waited until everyone was almost through the cold Jetway before I boarded.

As I got on the plane, the flight attendant put me in the last seat in First Class.  It's not too big of a deal, but I am writing this post with enough leg room to stretch my legs.  My wife and I ran six miles this morning so it's nice to stretch.

I fly back on Tuesday and go straight to NYC for a black tie dinner at the Waldorf.  I am wearing the Class A Dress uniform with the bow tie.  I go to two or three black tie events a year for work, why not wear green.

Marines New Ad Campaign--TRUTH from a Recruiter!!!

The phrase "My recruiter lied to me!" must go back at least to Sparta. Leonidas probably said, "We'll be home from Thermopolay next month."

But not the US Marines!!  Their new add campaign says the world is messed up and we'll be there!

THAT is truth in advertising.

Heres the story from Jim Dao at the NY Times:

Ad Campaign for Marines Cites Chaos as a Job Perk

Saturday, March 10, 2012

By JAMES DAO, The New York Times

The war in Iraq is over, the troop reduction in Afghanistan is under way and America's next war front is far from clear. If you are a military recruiter, how do market your product?
The Marine Corps thinks it has the answer: focus on something the world has in endless supply -- chaos.
On Saturday, the Marine Corps will open its latest marketing campaign, "Toward the Sound of Chaos," which will use social media, television commercials and print ads to underscore two points: That while no one knows where the next global hot spot will be, the Marines are ready to charge there.
"Even though we're ramping down from the 10 years of Iraq and Afghanistan, we're going to have a chaotic future in front of us, which also portends a potentially busy time for the Marine Corps," said Brig. Gen. Joseph L. Osterman, commanding general for Marine Corps recruiting command.
The new campaign will also include much information, and dramatic footage of Marines delivering humanitarian aid to nations beleaguered by war, famine or natural disaster, like Haiti, where 2,200 Marines provided medical supplies, food and security after the 2010 earthquake.
The new emphasis is partly the result of a national online survey conducted by JWT, the marketing firm, showing that many young adults consider "helping people in need, wherever they may live," an important component of good citizenship.
"There is a subset of millennials who believe that the military is an avenue of service to others," General Osterman said. "Not only in our nation, but also in others faced with tyranny and injustice."
But, General Osterman said, the Marine Corps remained an expeditionary, combat-oriented force. Post-Afghanistan, it will probably return to its traditional role of attacking mainly from the sea, he added. "Are we getting soft?" he asked. "The answer is no."
The campaign's inaugural television commercial opens with scenes of a smoke-draped horizon and the sounds of gunfire and people screaming in the distance. The terrain is vaguely desertlike, but there are no geographic landmarks -- not even a hill -- to pin down the location. It could be Africa, Central Asia or Kansas.
Marines then sprint into the picture and toward the smoke, F/A-18 fighter jets screaming overhead. Before the minute-long ad is over, virtually every form of Marine war-fighting hardware -- the much-critiqued V-22 Osprey, Cobra attack helicopters, amphibious assault vehicles and a hovercraft -- make guest appearances.
"Most people hear the sounds of chaos and run in the opposite direction," the baritone-voiced narrator says. "But there are a few who listen intently for these sounds, not in the hopes of hearing them, but to help rid the world of them."
The spot ends with a provocative tagline: "Which way would you run?"
The Marine Corps has always been adept at maximizing buzz around its marketing campaigns, and this one -- estimated to cost more than $3 million -- was no different. The television spot leaked onto YouTube on Wednesday and then on Thursday the Marines released Web-only videos on Facebook. The first television commercial will air on ESPN during the Big 12 basketball championship game on Saturday night.
The new Marine Corps campaign echoes in some ways the Navy's current campaign, titled "A Global Force for Good." The Air Force's latest campaign, "It's Not Science Fiction. It's What We Do Every Day," also includes humanitarian themes woven into commercials depicting a vaguely dystopian future.
The Army, which often competes with the Marine Corps for recruits, is evaluating recent survey data to decide whether to revamp its current marketing campaign, "Symbol of Strength," a reference to the Army uniform as a symbol of personal and military strength.

Aviation Ball

On Saturday night, I went to the annual Aviation Ball held at the Hershey Lodge.  It was a beautiful event.  My wife could not go (She would have missed Prairie Home Companion) and she made the right choice.  No one danced and the awards and speeches went on for an hour.  But if you don't like ceremonies, the Army is a bad place to be!!!

Besides the chicken dinner, the real reason I went to a dinner as maybe the only E5 there by choice was to talk to the CSMs in attendance about the status of my request for an extension of my enlistment and to hear what they thought of my chances for getting it.  

Unfortunately for me, it seems betting m=on my extension is like betting on Ron Paul for president--some people are strongly in favor, but the result does not look like Rep. Paul will be moving to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.

But I remain hopeful.  The best admins in the brigade put the packet together and sent it to division.  And a warrant officer who knew about the packet thought it was the best one she had seen.  Not that good paperwork seals the deal, but bad paperwork ensures a bad result.  

Hitching a Ride with the Georgia National Guard

In 1973, I hitched a ride on a C-130 Hercules transport from Denver to Atlanta.  This prop plane cruises at 240mph.  The Georgia Air National Guard flight was scheduled for almost eight hours.  There were 60 high school ROTC cadets aboard in addition to cargo.  The crew gave me a headset so I could help with the high school kids—some of whom got sick, scared or both.  

It was a long, dull ride until about 70 miles outside Atlanta when the plane started to pivot right and then left, like it was rotating on a stick in the middle of the fuselage.  On the intercom I heard the pilots feather one right-wing prop then the next.  The fuel pumps for the right wing died and the plane was swerving like a crab in the sky.

I took the party line and told the kids there was turbulence.  As we descended the co-pilot said we would be going straight in because the remaining engines were overheating.  The pilot then said in a very calm voice.   “I landed one of these bitches in the Nam with just one engine.  We’re fine.”

I went up front and saw crash foam on the airstrip and fire engines on both sides of the runway.  We came in hard, took one big bounce and came to a fairly smooth stop just short of the foam.

As we led the kids out of the plane they knew the crew and I had lied big time about the turbulence.  They could see nothing but emergency vehicles. 

In the terminal the crew chief told me that they would have the fuel line repaired in a few hours and I could fly with them to DC.  I declined, saying I was in a hurry to get home.  I went back outside out of view of the crew and kissed the airstrip, then flew home commercial.

In my admittedly odd life, I have always wanted people around me who could be chased by a raging grizzly bear and think ‘This is a chance to practice sprinting.’

What I did not realize as a young man is that the unflappable folks not only handle the problem of the moment, but calm everyone else around them.

Interviewed for School Board, Did Not Get UnPaid Job

Last week I was one of six people who interviewed to replace a member of the City of Lancaster School Board.  The job pays nothing and has a time commitment almost as big as the National Guard .  I am assured by current members that everybody gets mad at you and State budget cuts mean even more tough decisions--followed by criticism.

So I am glad I was not chosen.

But I did try for the job.  I knew my life would be even more crowded, but I also care more about education than anything else in government.  My kids are in the school system, but even if they weren't, the future of our country depends on education.  I know many kids will choose to be stupid no matter how good the education system is, but I want to be sure the education system is there for every kid who wants a good education.

This can mean education toward getting a good job, but it can also mean education for its own sake.  Reading Hannah Arendt will not get a 58-yr-old guy a better job.  But I am delighted by her books.  Two years ago, a friend told me to read Arendt.  I am now reading the 4th of her dozen books and plan to read them all in before I am 60.  The life of the mind is its own reward--I think a better reward than millions of dollars.  An educated person gets to decide between reading philosophers and making buckets of money.

I want every child to have that choice.

I'll try again in 2013.

Still Love Modern Medicine

In my last post I wrote about the being invisible to medical people who are focused on their technology.  But yet again I have reasons to be a wildly happy fan of modern medicine.  The visit that led to same-day laser surgery was a follow up from a routine eye exam.  In that first exam, the doctor doing the eye exam caught a blood vessel problem in my eye that someone else might have missed.  The specialist I went to for the follow-up visit said several times that Dr. Wenxin Wei is very good.

After the the dye in my arm and many strange pictures of my eye, it turned out I had fluid in my eye and a build-up of fluid can lead to vision problems including blindness.  So far, they don't know what caused it so I will be getting more needles in my arm to figure out exactly what is wrong.  The specialist, Dr. Roy Brod, (whom Dr. Wei said is the best in the area) said they may not find a cause.  But in two months he will do laser surgery on the other eye so both are repaired.  

In previous posts I have written about the many ways I could have been dead or crippled without modern medicine.  This makes twice I avoided blindness.  

And that is just what makes the healthcare debate so difficult.  I owe my life and sight to expensive, innovative treatments that did not exist when I was a kid.  Without those treatment I would be blind, dead, crippled, or maybe all three.  With them, we all have to pay more and more for health care.  In principle cutting big-ticket healthcare seems like a good idea.  But facing blindness or paralysis, I think healthcare costs look very reasonable.

Being an Invisible Patient

On Tuesday I had an appointment with an eye doctor.  It was a follow-up appointment from a routine eye exam in December that found some blood in my eye.  The appointment was almost five hours long and ended with laser surgery and me leaving wear an eye patch.

Too bad it was not Talk Like a Pirate Day.

At one point in the exam, a technician put a yellow dye IV in my arm and took digital photos of my yellowed eyeball.  She had another technician with her.  The second tech was in training.  The two of them were looking at the array of eyeball photos on a large monitor.  In one of them they found the problem and were delighted.  They pointed at the problem and said how interesting it was and the direction of blood vessels and other fascinating details.

I was sitting five feet away.  By the way, I rode 20 miles before the appointment and was wearing spandex bike clothes.

Then they started discussing what would cause the problem they saw.  In their diagnosis protocol, the usual cause for the symptoms they saw was high blood pressure or diabetes.

One said, "He must be out of shape.  Look at that.  Probably high blood pressure."

My rest pulse is 58.  My blood pressure is 120 over 70.  I do not have diabetes.  But they were excited by the images on the screen.  So I had to have high blood pressure and/or diabetes, even if I didn't.

At this point I interrupted and said I didn't have high blood pressure or diabetes and that I am not in bad shape for my age.  Maybe something else could cause my problem?

Then they asked if I felt I had low energy lately or was feeling lethargic.  So I told them I ran five miles and did 75 pushups with my sons the previous evening.  I went to the gym for 45 minutes that morning and rode 20 miles to the appointment.

They decided I was not lethargic.

Later the doctor came in, said they were going to correct the problem in the left eye that day and the right eye two months later.  Sometimes they never find a cause.  He ordered blood tests to rule out infections.

I understand that people with complex jobs have to rely on protocols to interpret the vast amounts of data they deal with.  But it still is a strange experience to be discussed like a piece of meat.  Or an eyeball!

"Chill out will ya"

Ok.  Last post I was talking about my very noble friend who faced a choice between family and his comrades.  And I talked about choosing between two good things.  That was on the train going to work.  Now I am on the train home in the quiet car.  I sat next to a guy who seemed pissed off to share the seat.  Ten minutes after we leave the station, he takes a call.  I let him know we are in the quiet car.  His response is to say "Chill out will ya" and stomp away out of the car.

Which means, he is among the small but constant group of people who sit in the quiet car so they won't have to listen to other people's calls.  What they want is the "Quiet Except for ME Car."

As opposed to the person choosing between two good things and doing the right thing, these people--the ones who know very well they are sitting in the quiet car--want the world to revolve around them.  They have every opportunity to choose to do the right thing and choose to be jerks instead.

The Four Loves in Camo

No, I am not going to write about a soldier with four girlfriends (or she could have four boyfriends!).  CS Lewis wrote a book called The Four Loves about the four Greek words for love.  We lump all these words together in our one word Love.

In Greek the word Eros is romantic love, Philia is friendship, Storge is love among family members and long-time familiarity, and Agape is what we call charity.

Yesterday at lunch I talked to a soldier who volunteered for an upcoming deployment, then changed his mind when it looked like his marriage would end when the wheels went up.  His one-sentence choice was between deploying with his buddies or keeping his family.  He chose his family.

But The Four Loves makes clear why this is no easy choice.  Friendship and Romance are different kinds of love, but they are both love.  And both Friendship and Romance grow from a free choice we make of that particular friend or lover.  Of all soldiers we serve with, there are a few whose company we enjoy above all others.  Falling in love often begins with a moment in which we see our beloved and decide in a moment 'That's the one.'

Which puts Romance and Friendship in stark contrast with Charity and Family.  We do not choose our uncles, cousins, in-laws, children and even pets.  Families form from existing families, blending and adding to form a new family.

Charity is expressed best by God's Love for us and Mother Teresa's love for lepers.  God accepts us as we are:  needy, nasty, selfish and small.  Loving us does not show His good taste, but His compassion.  When Mother Teresa lifted a leper from a Calcutta gutter, she was not thinking 'This is the best leper in this gutter.'  She was expressing the kind of Love God has for us and wants us to have for others.

While  Romance and Friendship are a free choice based on our estimate of the value of the beloved, Charity and Family Love are freely given with no regard to value at all.  We love the child who didn't learn to tie her shoes till she was 12 just as much as the one who is on the honor roll and a starter on the soccer team.

All through my Army career, I have seen these agonized choices between two good things.  A man who is choosing between family and friends is torn by two kinds of love.  The toughest moral choices are not between Good and Evil, but between Good and Good.  And they hurt all the more because when we choose between two goods, we know we are hurting someone who does not deserve it.

More later.

Daily Inspections not acceptable

This weekend many of us went through an Aviation inspection getting ready for a visit by the Inspector General.  A warrant officer who is also a Blackhawk pilot is in charge of the security for the aviation facility.  Because this is a highly secure area, they conduct a 100% inventory of keys at the end of every day.

The inspection requires a semi-annual 100% inventory of the keys.  Our security officer showed the inspector the daily log of key inspections.  Since it says "Daily Log" the inspector said it was unacceptable.

Our security officer asked.  "If we are supposed to have an inspection on June 1 and December 1 could I give you the inspection sheets for those particular days?"

"No" was the answer.  The sheets are labelled Daily so they are unacceptable as Semi-Annual inspection verification.

In the area of key security, he was rated "Unsatisfactory."

Clearly, it is important not to accept daily inspections when a semi-annual inspection is needed.

Welcome to the Army.

First month in Iraq, fuelers set up at Camp Normandy

 Roomie, SGT Nickey Smith, goes to Camp Normandy with the fuelers.

Waiting for the bird

Luxury accomodations

 Nice neighborhood!

Commute is Getting Worse

I talked to a guy at Dow yesterday who just returned from four years working in Sao Paulo, Brazil.  He commutes into Philadelphia from Wayne PA and is very happy with the drive on the Schuykill Expressway.  It is a narrow, crowded highway into America's fifth largest city.  But the traffic moves.  Different than driving in Sao Paulo.

Two days of three so far this week my commute home was longer because a train broke down or was delayed.  I was more than an hour late Tuesday, a half-hour yesterday.  The commute is two hours each way already, so delays really suck.

In December I had a different problem caused by the conductor.  I wrote a letter of complaint.

Here it is:

On December 8, 2011, the conductor on the 10:59 pm train to Lancaster refused to allow me to travel on her train.  I believe her name is Debbie.

I have commuted from Lancaster to Philadelphia on Amtrak since 1995 for three different jobs.  Since I returned from deployment to Iraq in February 2010, I have bought monthly tickets and travel to Philadelphia three or four days per week.  I am an avid bicyclist and sometimes bring a folding bike with me on the commute.  I normally travel to Phila at 706am and return at 535 or 642pm.  

I have a folding bike with 20-inch wheels and another bike instead of folding breaks in half.  I then fold the two pieces of the bike.   

On December 8 I worked late.  On the platform Debbie said the bike did not fold so it was not allowed on the train.  I had been bringing this bike on trains for almost a year and said that to Debbie. She said, "That's not true."  Really?  

I am a 58-year-old combat veteran of Iraq with five kids.  I do not often get called a liar to my face.  

My employer covered the hotel room because I had to stay over in Philadelphia.  Debbie said she was concerned about passenger safety, but she had three completely empty cars.  If she thought anyone was in immanent danger from a folded bicycle, the bicycle could have been stored in an empty car.

I did not write immediately because I am treated so well by Amtrak and tell my friends who drive how nice it is to take the train.  My wife and I are also in the process of adopting a child from Haiti.

But this morning I was reminded of just how rude Debbie is.  I am writing this letter on the 706am train to Philadelphia.  I had not seen Debbie since the incident until this morning.  We are in the quiet car.  She is talking loudly.  Loudly enough she was asked to quiet down.  She said, "I am allowed to talk."  When the conductors sneer the rules, even if they are off duty, that is a real problem.

I do not think you should have customer service people who act in an arbitrary and insulting way to customers and disobey your own rules.

I want an apology from Debbie.  

Sincerely yours,

Neil Gussman

Lancaster PA 

Flushing at Home, at Work, in Iraq

Toilet training is clearly not equal in the many parts of my world.  And new information can change the flushing habits of people brought up push the chrome handle after doing their business.

I work in a 7-story museum and library.  My co-workers average more than two college degrees each.  The bathrooms in our building are shining clean.  But in the 4th floor men's room, walking up to a urinal means looking down into yellow water.  At 9am the water is blue from the previous night's cleaning.  But the 4th floor has offices for the most environmentally conscious members of our staff.  Which means, I suppose, "If it's yellow, let it mellow, if it's brown, flush it down."

At home, my 12 and 13-year-old sons are still being trained to aim, flush, and wash.  They always get two out of three.  I occasionally listen for the proper sequence of water sounds and correct on the spot if there is a mistake.  But sometimes when I take a shower I find and unflushed toilet.  

In Iraq the toilets were often horrendous.  Once people were posting Facebook pictures of a turd that would not flush and got named Il Duce, after Benito Mussolini.  How the connection was made, I don't know.  These guys not only pissed on the seat, they shit on it which seemed to me physically impossible.  But who knows.  On drill weekends, many soldiers clearly do not know urinals flush.  Or maybe they are environmentalists.

In any case, most days, I see yellow water somewhere.

Moving Pictures onto Facebook

Over the next few months, I will be moving the thousands of pictures I have from Iraq and from Army weekends to the facebook page http://www.facebook.com/2104GSAB for my unit and my own facebook page http://www.facebook.com/ngussman.  With the war in Iraq over the pictures are all of places that will be just memories.  If the current government succeeds then no one will need outposts with blast walls in the middle of nowhere.  If things go badly, all those places could end up ruins.  Either way, my home-away-from-home at Camp Adder is history.

Waiver Moving Forward

Today the first stage of getting a waiver should be completed.  Right now, like any Mac user, I am struggling with opening the Army forms.  My old COMPAQ laptop I use for Army stuff decided to quit in the middle of downloading the file.  Oh well.

In my last post I wrote about the survey of what Americans value.  My wife and I were talking about the list.  She said I have to make clear that the list is talking about what people value in their own lives.  So when competence ranks #23 of 30 she says it is not something the respondents hold as a personal value even if they value it in others.  Most people very much want competence in people around them--doctors, lawyers, police, teachers--but that does not mean they value it in themselves.

Very true.  The worst sort of sports fan is exactly that.  A 300-pound guy who can't run or throw across a street yet knows exactly how Tom Brady should lead the Patriots in the Superbowl.  Competence is not something he values in himself.

Why Go Back in the Army?

Two days ago, I had a two-hour psych evaluation.  My wife and I have to get the evaluation to be sure we are not crazy before we adopt our next child.

The psychologist was very interested in why I would go back in the Army after almost 25 years.

I talked to her about some of the reasons I had, but one reason became more clear to me in Chapter 2 of a book titled The 10 Natural Laws of Successful Time and Life Management by Hyrum W. Smith.  If you are the type of person who cares about time management, you may recognize Smith as one of the founders of Franklin-Covey and the Franklin Planner System.

My wife carries a Franklin planner and is a strong advocate of the system.  I am a disorganized mess and working through the book in hopes of becoming organized.

So, did I join the Army to be more organized?  No.

But in the book on Pages 63-4 is a list based on a national survey in which people were asked to list the things that had the highest priority in their lives.

Here it is:


In a survey carried out in the United States in 1992, the following
values were most commonly mentioned:
  1. Spouse
  2. Financial security
  3. Personal health & fitness
  4. Children and family
  5. Spirituality/ Religion
  6. Sense of accomplishment
  7. Integrity and honesty
  8. Occupational satisfaction
  9. Love for others/Service
10. Education and learning
11. Self-respect
12. Taking responsibility
13. Exercising leadership
14. Inner harmony
15. Independence
16. Intelligence and wisdom
17. Understanding

18. Quality of life

19. Happiness/Positive attitude

20. Pleasure

21. Self-control

22. Ambition

23. Being capable

24. Imagination and creativity

25. Forgiveness

26. Generosity

27. Equality

28. Friendship

29. Beauty
30. Courage

When I thought about going back in the military, I knew without being able to completely say why that the military had a better grasp of reality that the civilian world.  For many reasons, soldiers call civilian life "The Real World."  But I don't think so.  The list shows why.

Look at the bottom of the list:
23. Being capable

28. Friendship

30. Courage

A "real world" in which competence, friendship, and courage are bottom-of-the-list, optional extras is not the kind of life I want to live.  

The psychologist was very professional and said affirming things about all my life choices, but I am going to guess she likes the Franklin survey list the way it is.   

France Suspends Combat Operations in Afghanistan

On Thursday four French soldiers were killed and sixteen were wounded when an Afghan soldier they were training blew himself up.  Following the incident, the French President suspended combat operations and all training of Afghan soldiers by the 2000+ French troops serving in Afghanistan.

Earlier in the week I had a moment of sympathy for Mitt Romney when he was criticized by his Republican rivals for speaking French.  The same people who criticized Jon Huntsman for speaking Mandarin.  The same people who are too self-satisfied and stupid to learn another language themselves--not they have a particular talent for English.

There will certainly be criticism by the chubby commentariat on the Right of the French decision.  But since none of the loud-mouths on right-wing radio ever served in the military, they will be talking out of their XXL asses.

France was our first ally and without them we would have lost the Revolutionary War.  France remained our ally after their own revolution and it pisses me off every time I hear criticism of France by the Chicken Hawks who are in favor of war as long as they are fought by someone else.

I don't know if or when French troops will return to risking their lives training Afghan soldiers, but in this ten-year-long war, French troops have been on the ground and in the fight since the beginning.  French critics in the US have been on their fat asses just as long.

Col. Scott Perry Announces Run for US Congress

My battalion commander in Iraq, Col. Scott Perry said he will run for a US Congressional seat in Central PA.  Perry is currently the representative of the 92nd PA state congressional district.

I was hoping he would run sooner rather than later and with the current congressman stepping down, he should have a good shot at getting elected.  Perry is a Republican in a very Republican area of the state.

If I lived in the 4th district, I would vote for him.  He commanded a big task force with soldiers from a dozen states, aircraft flying around the clock and the worst flying conditions Iraq had to offer.  He worked hard all the time.  Pennsylvania and our nation will be a better place with Perry in the US Congress.

Col. Perry is a Blackhawk pilot and is currently commanding the 166th training brigade at Fort Indiantown Gap PA.

Training a Blackhawk Crew Chief in Afghanistan

Great Article about Training a Blackhawk Crew Chief in Afghanistan.
It really gets at the huge responsibility and complex job every crew chief takes on.


http://www.humanevents.com/article.php?id=48746

Next Adventure--Rwanda

During the January drill weekend I got a lot of help from getting together the paperwork I need to extend my enlistment for another year or maybe two.  At the end of the weekend the sergeant in charge of admin for our battalion had most of the papers so in February we should be able to get them signed on on the way up the chain of command to the Adjutant General of the state.

If it goes through I serve until May of 2014 or maybe 2015.  If not, I am out in May of 2013.  Either way my long term plan includes most of a year in Rwanda.  That would be the academic year 2015-16.  That year my wife would be eligible for a sabbatical.  She is a math professor so her research is very portable.  The plan is to take the whole family to Rwanda for a year.

Our three (maybe four) sons will have the opportunity to live in a black-majority culture.  Of course, Xavier has spent his entire life in a black-majority culture, but he will experience it partly through the eyes of his brothers.

So why Rwanda?  Bicycle racing.  There are dozens of terribly poor countries to choose from in the world, but not many where I have something valuable to contribute.  In Rwanda, a former Belgian colony, the country is recovering from the 1994 genocide.  Part of that recovery is a shared love of bicycle racing.  An American, Jonathan Boyer, who raced in the Tour de France in the 80s went to Rwanda after the genocide and organized a national team and a national race--The Tour of Rwanda.  The story was in the New Yorker this summer.

In Rwanda I can teach English to French-speaking kids who need to be literate to be bike racers.  I can teach English with a full bike vocabulary--and then go riding with my students.  My sons can help with the English also.  They will be 16 and 17 and able to teach very current English.

Once the boys are in college, I want to spend more of my time in Haiti, Rwanda, and other poor countries.  A lot of people my age and older talk about traveling.  Some actually do it.  The Army reminded me that travel without a purpose can be dreary.  I loved going to Haiti.  I can't wait to go to Rwanda.  I know I would love going to Paris and Perth again, but I want to go places where it matters that I went.  Even if I can't much directly to help while I am there, I can write back home to tell other people what it's like to live in Rwanda.

Numbers Update

This week Site Meter says my blog passed 100,000 visits and 130,000 page views since June of 2008.  Blogger also tracks page views and says I have had 90,000 since June of 2009.  The webmaster at my day job says every method of tracking traffic gets a different result.  But the fact that the two are close makes me think they are pretty accurate.

Blogger also tells me which posts are the most popular.  By far the top of the list is "Home Sweet Trailer Home" with more than 2,100 page views followed by "Flying to Camp Garry Owen" with just over 500.

I know that my all time visits equal about one Lady Gaga minute, but a soldier stopped me in the hallway to say he reads my blog.  So I will keep posting till I get out.  Today's post is # 1,037.  Writing over 1,000 posts is like gaining weight--it doesn't happen all at once, but if you eat a little too much every day for a few years, suddenly you can't see your feet standing up!

And on a different note, the paperwork is coming together for my request to stay in another year or two.  So I may get to 1,500 posts if I stay in long enough!

Looks like a Happy New Year!

Hearing Test--Army Style

Today we had the annual cattle call for medical evaluations.  Medical teams come in and set up in the armory to check our teeth.  Others set up in the parking lot to check our hearing.  Today at Noon I got in line for the hearing check.  The line moves at the rate of two people every ten minutes.  I joined the line with eight people in front of me.

And for the next 40 minutes I listened to the diesel generator that ran all the equipment in the hearing test truck.

Huh?

Exactly.  Everyone in the line listened to a diesel at high idle for for the best part of an hour before the hearing test.

We all passed anyway, but sometimes the Army is too funny!

Another Old Soldier

Another good friend who I served with in Germany in the 70s was Sgt. Abel Lopez.  He and I were assigned to Bravo Company 1-70th Armor in Fort Carson Colorado in late 1975.  In September of the following year, Abe and I and 4,000 other soldiers flew to Germany becoming Brigade 76.  We were supposed to reinforce the East-West German border.  Our alert area was Fulda, right where Tom Clancy said World War III would begin.

At one point Abe and I were tank commanders of tanks parked next to each other in our motor pool in Wiesbaden.

The picture above was taken in that motor pool during the two hours each week we had to work in our gas masks.  Abel is in the middle flanked by Gene Pierce and Don Spears.  

After the Army, Abe went back to San Diego and became a fire fighter--retiring a few years ago as a Captain.  For most of the years since he left Germany in 1979 we have talked a half-dozen times each year.  Most of those conversations are about our faith mixed with the Army, family work and bad jokes.  

Once in 2008 I called Abe and said I read that Gen. Petraeus went to West Point about ten months before I enlisted which meant we were the same age.  Abe said, "The only difference between you is he is a big success and you aren't."  

Which is just the kind of jokes we have been making since Gen. Petraeus was a Lieutenant.

Old Soldiers Don't Fade Away

To begin the new year, let me introduce you to a soldier--actually an airman--who was my roommate at Lindsey Air Station in Wiesbaden, West Germany, in in 1978.  Airman 1st Class Cliff Almes shared a room with me during the year I worked for the base newspaper at the Wiesbaden Military Community Headquarters.  

You'll notice in the pictures below that Cliff is still in uniform and is serving on temporary assignment in the Middle East.  

He is no longeer in the US military.

When his enlistment was up, Cliff went home to Arizona for a couple of months then came back to join a Lutheran Monastery in Darmstadt Germany with a name so long I will direct you to the web site if you want it in German.  Land of Kanaan is the short version.

We became friends during the time we roomed together.  And after Cliff began his time as a novice I was able to visit him in Darmstadt.  

Cliff became Brother (Bruder) Timotheus.  

Here he is on a recent trip to Israel.  He is the second from the left with three other Brothers and a local pastor.

In this photo Cliff is back in Germany with some of the young men who have come to Kanaan for short-term ministries and sometimes to see if they have a vocation for a life of service.  

On the Eve of 2012

My big Army projects at the beginning of 2012 are:

• Write a newsletter summing up the last half of 2012 and all the things we did.
• Send a message to everyone in the unit who has a facebook page to "Like" to the 2104GASB page.
• Fill out the packet of information I need to extend my enlistment after I turn 60 in 2013.

Life gets more crowded every week.  If I had any sense I would just let my enlistment run out so my life would be less complicated.  But it is so much fun to fire machine guns and ride in helicopters that it is hard to give up.

Happy New Year.

In Haiti: Bare Chests, Bad; Bare Breasts, No Problem!

On Sunday morning I went for a run from the mission/orphanage where we are staying. To get to the main road, I ran down a half-mile dirt road past a small beach on the Caribbean Sea.  As I was running past a spring that ran to the beach, I saw a young woman who was washing her clothes and herself.  It was already over 80 degrees at 9 am so I was running with my shirt off.  The woman at the spring was doing the same.

When I got to the road, I turned right with high hills to my left.  Another spring ran down the side of the mountain and in the spring was another young woman ten feet from the road and dressed the same as I was--naked from the waist up.

A half-mile down the road a motorcyclist sped toward me gesturing to put my shirt on.  A few minutes later another one did the same.  I put my shirt on.  Clearly I was in violation of some local custom.  Or maybe the problem was aesthetic.  I could see lots of reasons to tell an old guy to put his shirt on while running.

I suppose bathing by the side of the road is a fact of life here and old guys running with their shirts off is not.  But I did think that most every guy I have ever known would like to live in place where shirts were mandatory for men and optional for women.  

In Haiti Adopting Our Next Son

Sorry I have not posted much lately.  I will be posting on my other blog about adoption.  I just posted about the first day in Haiti.  Looks like I may be able to use my national guard service to help with the paperwork.  More on that later.

On Radio Smart Talk WITF FM with Col. Perry

This morning Col. Scott Perry and I were guests on Radio Smart Talk on WITF FM 89.5 in Harrisburg PA.  The topic was the end of the war in Iraq.  This show airs Monday-Friday from 9 - 10 am and re-airs at 7pm.  So you can listen to the radio (if you live in central PA) or on line tonight at WITF.

The producer of the show, Franklin and Marshall grad Megan Lello, sent me a link so you can also listen at some later time.  The first 20 minutes of the show is about the world almanac, then Scott Perry and I talk to show host Scott Lamar.

It was a lot of fun to be on the show.  Radio Smart Talk is a live call-in show.  All but one of the callers wanted to talk about war policy and whether we should have been in Iraq.  Col. Perry took the policy calls.  I answered the call from the Mom of a Marine who just finished basic training.

Family Pictures from Thanksgiving

(reposted from my other blog http://adoptivedadusa.blogspot.com)

With three daughters in Virginia, holidays are the only time to take family pictures.  At noon on Thanksgiving we were able to take a family photo before Lauren and Lisa sped off to Thanksgiving in New Hope.

The entire family:

From left:  Iolanthe, Kiersten, Annalisa, Jacari, me, Lisa, Nigel, Peter and Lauren.
Iolanthe is my step daughter, Kiersten lives at our house and tutors the boys.  Her Mom was one of Annalisa's hospice patients a dozen years ago.  Kiersten has gone on some of our family vacations since and is now a student at a local college.  Peter is Lauren's boyfriend.

The kids:

The boys:

Timmy is our neighbor and is also adopted.  He and our boys play together a lot.

State of (Inter)dependence

For those who follow my wife's blog Miser-Mom, you have already seen today's post on the State of (Inter)dependence.

The military lives by interdependence.  Independence gets people hurt.  

Enjoy!!

Speaking At the Lititz VFW

On Sunday, Nov. 6, I spoke to more than 80 members and guests of the VFW Post in Lititz PA.  The Lititz Record newspaper put the story on its front page--slow news week in Lititz!

Most members of the post were clearly Viet Nam Veterans, plus a few from the Gulf War.  It was a lot of fun talking to this group.  The talk title was "Who Fights This War?"  And many of the stories are in this blog during the time I was in Iraq.  The audience laughed when I told them I flew on a Blackhawk piloted by a guy whose day job was flying Gov. Rod Blagoyevich.  They laughed again when I said the pilot was not allowed to repeat what he heard on his headset over those eight years.  

There were many nods of recognition when I told them about the door gunner on that crew.  He rode convoy security on highway one in 2004 long before Humvees were armored and was on his 2nd tour as a door gunner.  He had just turned 24.  

I talked longer than my allotted 20 minutes and then took maybe 30 questions.  The humbling thing for me about the Q&A is that most of the audience was actually asking questions.  I know from many public events that a really interesting talk gets short, rapid-fire questions.  When an audience is less engaged in the subject they tend to ask question in the form of a five-minute sermonette on what they think about the subject.  

Some of the questions were about 100 miles above my pay grade--on war policy and political matters.  But many were about Iraq and the young men I had the opportunity to serve with.  It was a lot of fun.

Whiplash from Work--Saved by Spandex

Last month I wrote about meeting a guy on the train who grew up near me and had his first marriage end because of a "Honey-Do" list.  He was a king on the road and a chump at home.  He finally decided he liked the road life better and left home.

The Army works in reverse, at least as far as opulence.  My most popular post ever was "Home Sweet Trailer Home" with more than 2000 page views followed by "Flying to Camp Garry Owen" with more than 500 hits.  Living in a small metal trailer in the relatively luxurious CHUs of Camp Adder was way better than the tents at Garry Owen, but both were far worse than home.  So there was no doubt I was ready to return to my home and family in Lancaster and leave Iraq.

But last week, I had the biggest hit of travel opulence I have had in quite a while.  In one three-day trip to New York City I went to:

Lunch and a seminare at the Gotham Club (Once J.P. Morgan's private club)

Then a black tie banquet at Gotham Hall:

Lunch the next day at the Yale Club:

And in the evening, the Union League of NYC:

So what kept me from being swept away by my surroundings?  The best part of my trip to NYC was not inside these buildings but the three rides I took from my hotel at 39th and 9th Avenue to and across the George Washington Bridge and back.

Every morning I was up early and wearing spandex bike clothes to make this 22-mile ride by different routes:  on the west side bike path, through Central park and up broadway, along the river drive (not the highway!) and mixes of these.  So at each event I was pretty sure to be the only guy in the room wearing spandex from collar to heel.

The last event, at the Union League, was called Socrates in the City.  The organizer, Eric Metaxas, said that all who attend these meetings are part of a UFO cult that wears spandex unitards.  

Little did he know, I own two spandex unitards--for time trial races.  

I bet he doesn't even own one.

And so it is very hard for me to be completely serious about the occasional luxury my jobs affords me.  I used to live in CHU and wear spandex pretty much every day.  

So Many 1 Percenters

In the news today I was reminded I am part of the 1% in America. 

Not the 1% looking for toilets in lower Manhattan.  This morning a commentator on the news said America's military is 1% of our population.  That is literally true only if you round up.  The two million men and women on active duty and in Guard and Reserve unit are less the 2/3 of 1% and decreasing as budget cuts slice through every branch of the military.  

I am one of the few soldiers who knows as many people with PhDs as with Aviators Wings.  PhDs are another less-than-one-percent group of Americans.

Of course, working at a non-profit and serving as a sergeant, I am not part of the 1% idolized by Fox News and reviled by the Occupy Wall Street protestors.  But compared with 7 billion people in the world right now, I am pretty close to the top 1% of the wealthiest people in the world.  

But the real problem right now is not the 1% who are currently serving.  As the military shrinks, more and more veterans will join the ranks of the unemployed.  Veterans are already have higher unemployment than the population in general.  It will soon get worse.

I heard Mitch McConnell this morning say that he is against any sort of Veteran's preference in hiring.  Really?  Veterans are always behind their peers in education and opportunity.  Is there a loss to society when it gives veterans, especially young veterans preference in hiring?

   

Mission to Canada

Last month several of the new F Model Chinooks flew to central Canada near Edmonton for a joint training exercise.  At the speed Chinooks fly the trip was 15 hours in the air each way.

A photographer with the Canadian Combat Camera unit took pictures and sent them back with our crews.

Here are two of them:

"You Better Puke Down Your Shirt"

This morning I flew on the firat of three flights set up for recent graduates of Basic Training. The young men and women and their recruiters get a thrill ride in a Blackhawk, and a pitch from us about why they would want to choose Aviation as an Army career path.

Before the flight, the crew chief does a safety briefing.

None of the 26 new soldiers had ever flown on a helicopter at all, let alone a Blackhawk.  The crew chief told the trainees how to enter and exit the helicopter, how to buckle the four-point harness in their seats, and what to do in an emergency.

Then he told them what to do if they feel sick.  "If you get sick do not puke in my aircraft.  You Better Puke Down Your Shirt, because if you get sick in my aircraft you are going to clean my aircraft."

I rode with the first group.  Everything was fine with the second.  But in the third group was a young man who probably ate way too much Army food for breakfast before a helicopter ride.  

On these rides we would climb and quickly dive.  On two of the flights, the crew chief did the pen in the air trick.  He lays the pen on his palm and in the moment of zero gravity pulls his hand away.  The pen floats in the air for the two seconds of zero gravity then falls in the crew chief's hand.  

Right after that roller coaster moment, the soldier looked ill then, as instructed, puked down his shirt.  The temperature was slightly below freezing at dawn and was no higher than 40 when the last flight touched down--so the soldier had to be more than a little uncomfortable until he could leave a field on the west end of the base and get a shower.  

But he can follow instructions!

2nd Group of Trainees Boards Blackhawk

Back to Arguing Politics

After formation this morning one of pilots who is also a big TEA Party supporter came at me smiling with winner's glee talking about the Occupy movement.  

"The TEA Party cleaned up after themselves and supported local businesses, your guys in the Occupy Oakland movement looted local business," he said.

And it went on from there.  I mentioned that this week I gave the Conservative Commentariat its monthly listen.  I chose Rush Limbaugh.  On Thursday as I was driving back from New York, I heard Rush say that Herman Cain's current troubles are "a Democrat program at the highest level (the White House) to discredit Republican candidates."  Michael Savage says George Soros funded the attack.

Another ardent Republican here who is pissed off about the attacks on Herman Cain did concede that running for President is the ultimate colonoscopy and if Cain was not prepared for every fact and opinion to come out, he was crazy.  

It is fun to have these discussions with people of vastly different opinions who are not shy about expressing them.  

On Video Blog in NYC

Taped in NYC on Wednesday:



Or on You Tube:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=PijjlmU1KDg

Home Boy on the Train

The last leg of my long trip home from Houston on Thursday began with a 3:45 am wake up call and ended with taking the 10:59 pm Keystone train from Philadelphia to Lancaster.  

There is no quiet car on the last train so I sat across from a guy about my age wearing a suit and dozing off listening to music.  Since he was my age, he would not be listening to Metal, Rap or Lady Gaga so loud I had to listen to 2nd-hand noise.  It turned out he was on the way home from a delayed flight also.

As we talked I learned he works from home advising small companies how to get bigger.  He was a father of eight--two groups of four kids from two marriages.  Group One are in their late 20s and early thirties.  Group two are four kids between eight and twelve.  I also learned he grew up in the next town south of Stoneham MA where I grew up.  Mike grew up in Medford.  

He graduated in 1973, the year the draft ended and was very happy not to go in the Army.  As we talked, it was clear that this 56-year-old guy lived for success, moving up from his blue collar background and being rich.  He made it.  He lives in Lancaster County's best suburb (Lititz) in one of its best neighborhoods.  For him risk has to do with money.  Mike is pro-military, but was never interested in serving.  

Mike was also very candid about his life.  He said his first marriage ended because he could not deal with the transition between being a King on the Road and a chump at home.  The way he said Chump really made me sure he was a Home Boy.  He was a rising star in the business consulting and got handed a "Honey-Do" list at home.  "Hero to Zero when I stepped off the plane," he said.  So he left.

He travels frequently to Europe and was making his first trip to Asia soon.  Another guy across the aisle, Jim, had made several recent trips to Beijing.  Mike was happy to hear Jim had no health problems from the trips.  

Usually, I read or work on the train, but the shared misery of the midnight train home gave me a chance to talk with another guy from Massachusetts whose live took him to Lancaster County.

Traveling in Class A Uniform

This week I was in Texas from Monday to Thursday.  Rather than travel in our digital camo uniform, I decided to travel in Class A uniform.  Actually, it is better for travel than I would have suspected.  This heavy weight (compared to a good civilian suit) uniform resists wrinkles very well.  The shoes are good to walk in and much lighter than combat boots.  The jacket can be folded into an overhead compartment and looks good when unfolded.

On the trip back I was on a delayed flight with a group of women in the Arizona VFW on the way to a ceremony at the Statue of Liberty.  One of the ladies gave me the official coin of their VFW post.  Like most of the other coins I have received, it was mostly for being in the right place at the right time.  As I write this I hope their group had as good a trip as they could.  Today's storm set NYC's all-time snow record for October.  It was an easy record to set since an inch was the previous record.

The uniform got me free meals on the planes, a quick trip through security, a coin, several people saying a heart-felt thank you for my service and many smiles.  But it doesn't make trains and planes run on time.  I slept late today trying to help my 58-year-old body recover from that very long day.

Oldest Company Commander Replaced by Youngest

Today Headquarters Company of the 2-104th Aviation had a change of command ceremony.  1LT Matthew Moyer who will turn 26 on Sunday took command from CPT Paul Ward, age 54.  Ward is moving on to a staff job at higher headquarters.  Like me, Ward has a break in service.  He was a company commander when Moyer was in the 1st grade.

1LT Moyer

CPT Ward

Both men were deployed with 2-104th in Iraq in 2009-10 and were on battalion staff.  Ward was a battle captain in operations.  Moyer was Unit Movement Officer, the officer in charge of moving the battalion to Iraq and back to America.  He organized the movement of almost 50 aircraft and hundreds of containers from Pennsylvania to Fort Sill to Iraq and back to America.

Boys Like Guns

Today I drove to Mifflintown to pick up Emarion for his first visit to our home.  He asked if we could see Army stuff on the way home.

I wrote about some of visit in my other blog, Adoptive Dad.

Of the three boys, Emarion clearly knows the most about weapons.  He has gone hunting, loves fishing and says Cabella's is his favorite store.

He is clearly going to like the family days at Fort Indiantown Gap.  We watched M16 qualification for several minutes.  Emarion liked watching the shooters knock the targets down.  He was fascinated walking through the hangar at FT IG and liked just looking at the trucks and tracks in the motor pools around post.

I could also show him the M60A1 tank in front of the headquarters building and tell him I was a tank commander of one of those 35 years ago.  Since I don't watch football and baseball, it's good that I am in the Army.  Helicopters, camouflaged vehicles and weapons are a great ice breaker with boys.

Sunset Here and There

Today I got a call from one of my riding buddies in NYC.  I got the call at 630pm and said I had to go, I still had ten minutes to ride.  He said "No way, it's dark."  I said "See ya" and rode for 10 minutes.  I could have ridden longer because it was a brilliant full moon low in the eastern sky.  And to be exact, I had nine more minutes to ride than my buddy in NYC, not ten.

I guessed at ten minutes as I left to ride, but I knew it was close.  New York is about 120 miles east of Lancaster PA.  At 40 degrees of latitude, each degree of longitude equals about 60 miles on the ground.  The two degrees of difference translates into four minutes on the clock--15 degrees is 1/24th of the one-rotation-per-day spin of the earth.  So the sun sets in NYC just over eight minutes earlier than in Lancaster. And, of course, the sun rises earlier in NYC.

I know.  What good is knowing that?  Maybe nothing, but when GPS and every other gadget runs out of juice, I can still do some rudimentary time keeping and navigation.

Or just write about weird stuff I know.

My First and LAST Army Ten Miler

The Army Ten Miler was my third long-distance event in the last three weeks: my seven in the last year.  And this event has the distinction of being far and away the worst run.

Let me begin with the schedule.  Race number pick up was at the DC Armory near the capital--nowhere near the event itself.  But it did allow the organizers to fill the armory with more than 100 vendors selling shoes, shorts, shorts and other shit.  I drove to number pick up with my sons.  There was a line out the door because having the number pick up in a government building meant metal detectors.  We got to go in a different entrance with my military ID.  But there were only two lines for those who were not military.

This bottleneck told me what the whole event would be like.

Inside, I got my number and went to another table for the t-shirt.  I paid $10 extra for a long-sleeve t-shirt.  But when I got to the table, with two hours left in registration--no more long sleeve t-shirts.  They had a woman's small which fit Nigel, so he got the race shirt.  I got my other a son an under armour Army shirt in the Expo.

We got up at 0540 in Silver Spring MD at Grandpa's house (he cooked spaghetti for us the night before) and were on the way to the Pentagon by 0600.  The race program said to take the Metro so we parked in Arlington and took the Metro two stops to the Pentagon.  So did thousands of others.  It took 11 minutes to get from the tracks to the exit.  We were against a wall.  Most of the riders did know the Metro and that there were other stairs.  So we all funneled up one inoperative escalator.

No one from the event was at the Pentagon Metro station helping with traffic.  There were HUNDREDS of volunteers along the route with nothing to do.  They would have been helpful in the Metro tunnel.

Or moving people from the Metro stop to the start line.  Everyone who drove or took the Metro had to move through one unmarked gate to get to the start.  No volunteers there either.  No announcers.  But along the route there were official volunteers with very good bull horns encouraging us.  These same bull horns would have been great getting people through the funnel.

In the half dozen other half marathons I have run, by mile five I would be in a group of people running about my speed.  In this event I ran a very steady 10 minute pace for the first five miles then ran about 9:20 pace for the second half.  But for the entire event the crowd around me was changing.  I was passing and being passed by others all the way from start to finish.   And in the last half mile I got passed by young guys who were sprinting for 11,000th place.

They shouldn't have bothered.  From a half-mile to the the finish until the boys and I got in the Metro station, we could hear the finish announcer saying, "Don't walk, keep running after the finish.  Keep moving."  The boys could mimic his pleading/commanding tone very well.  When I got the finish line I couldn't cross the timing line because runners jammed up and stopped.  It was about 20 seconds from the time I was in the crowd till I actually crossed the line.

The finishing chute was no wider than the one at the Hamptons Half Marathon which had about a tenth of the runners.   Fifty feet passe the finish I climbed over the spectator fence and went to Nigel and Jacari.  We first tried to walk back to the finish but the mess was getting worse, so we left.

Again, this event is 25 years old.  They knew the number of runners.  Why all these bottlenecks?

The entry fees totaled about $150,000.  The organizers should take some of that money and make a road trip to Philadelphia to see how they can run these events with either side of 20,000 runners and no bottlenecks at all.

Army Weekend without Drill!

My sons are going to have yet another weekend of long car rides, early wake up and greasy food.  This Sunday I am running the Army Ten Miler.  The race is in Washington DC for most of its distance, but it begins and ends near the Pentagon.  Start time is 0800, so we wil be waking at 0600 to get to the start through a very big crowd.

We will leave after lunch tomorrow and drive to DC for packet pickup.  We have free accommodations with Grandpa in Silver Spring MD.  So hamburgers for dinner tomorrow and for lunch Sunday!!!

I will start with Wave 2 of three waves.  It looks like I will be running with 25,000 of my closest friends.

Should be fun!!

Benefits of National Guard Service

This morning I was making hotel reservations for New York and Philadelphia and thinking about how many things are cheaper, easier or more fun because I am a Guardsman.  

• If you book with Holiday Inn (same with other hotels I assume), they offer a Government Rate.  I have a military ID and that's all they require to give you a better rate and a free breakfast.  Part of the Government rate is breakfast.  
• When I travel to NYC, Washington and Boston on Amtrak, I get a 10% discount with my ID.
• If I fly in uniform I don't get a different price, but I do get WAY better treatment in the security line.
• Two days ago we met Emarion who may be our next son if all goes well.  He is 12 and shy and somewhat nervous about meeting what may be his new family.  I could take out pictures of helicopters, machine guns, grenade launchers and talk about flying in the former and firing the latter. Not surprisingly, this ends up being a great ice breaker with a 12-year-old boy.
• When my daughter organized a day at Richmond International Speedway as part of her internship with the local VA Hospital, she could give me an unused ticket because I am a veteran with a combat tour in Iraq.
• And it's fun to occasionally overhear one of my kids saying, My Dad is in the Army."