Tag: military

Friday’s Theme Music

6:30 A.M., Friday morning, September 4, 2020.

I did not want to get up. Still sifting dreams, I thought I was due to stay in bed for at least another hour. I’d been up late into the morning, sucking up my latest TV addition, “Mr Inbetween”. An Aussie show, I’m watching it on Hulu. I love his daughter, Britt. Played by Chika Yasumura, she steals whatever scene she’s in.

So it kept me up and awake, and I didn’t want to get up. But the cats, particularly Tucker (my long-hair black and white big bruiser) (he’s a blokey-bloke) and Papi, the young ginger blade, thought the day required my attention. After a bit of failed negotiations and stalling tactics, I yielded, telling them and myself, “Here we go.”

Well, here we go led to the chorus, “Here we go, rocking all over the world,” out of the 1975 John Fogerty song, “Rockin’ All Over the World”. When I thought about it, though, I began remembering Status Quo playing at Live Aid 85.

For Fogerty’s release in ’75, I was a few months out of military tech school, newly married, and stationed at Wright-Pat AFB in Ohio. Ten years later, when Status Quo played the song at Live Aid 85, I was living in a tent city outside Cairo, Egypt, playing war games. Still married, though, but my wife was staying with her family. I believe I dimly recall seeing Status Quo’s Live Aid version while I was heading home, during a fuel stop at Torrejon Air Base in Spain. We had time to kill, so we walked around the exchange to see what was new and get an AAFES burger.

So this simple song is today’s theme music, brought to you by stubborn cats and nostalgia. I decided to go with Status Quo’s Live Aid version because I like the crowd’s energy.

Hope you enjoy it. I know I used it before, if memory serves (but it doesn’t always serve, does it?), but I’m using it again. Remember to wear your mask. Cheers

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Broken Memories

Having this broken arm stirred memories and prompted realizations.

  1. My broken wrist, broken neck, and this broken arm, my only three breaks, involved the summer months. I wore the halo from June through August (yeah, in the Okinawa humidity — we lived off base and didn’t have A/C) and had the wrist pins and cast July and August (central Germany).
  2. Worst thing about the halo was that I dislodged it. I’d talked everyone into letting me return to work. Yes, I was clever, charming, and quick back then, a deadly combo. Barely at work for an hour, I sat down in a chair, leaned back, and flipped over. The halo held my head immobile with four screws. I’d managed to knock my head out of them. Blood everywhere. This was about eleven at night, the mid shift. Commander, paramedics, ambulance all arrive. My CC and the paramedics enter an argument; my CC wants to ride with me. They wouldn’t let him.
  3. After that night, wife, friends, boss, doc. were all of the opinion that I should just stay home.
  4. When my halo was removed, my head felt weirdly light. (Guess I was light headed…) My wife and friends said my head would start bobbing during the first few days. They worked hard not to laugh. I never noticed it.
  5. My CC then, Col. Mike Kerr, was one of my favorite commanders, but I was fortunate to have several good ones. He’d had twenty-four staples in his skull. This all happened in the Vietnam era. He was a forward ground controller, but had additional duties on base. There’d been a mortar attack. His job was to go out, find unexploded ordinance, mark it, and call it in. The enemy knew this routine, so they put snipers in trees just outside the base. One was shooting at Kerr, so Kerr hunted him down. Hand to hand combat ensued. Kerr received his injuries.
  6. My splint is off. My arm has shrunk. Dry skin and wrinkles abound. I’m wearing a removable wrist brace. Elbow movement is very good but hand, wrist, and fingers need work. The healing continues.

I believe I posted most of this stuff before.

Hope you’re all surviving and thriving, wherever you are. Wear your damn mask, please.

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Mixed Dreams

Weighing dreams on the scales. There was another flying dream, brief but intense. I wore goggles in this one. The wind tore at my face. An insect flew into my mouth.

My sputtering and spitting marked the end to the flying portion. In a dream picosecond, I’m in the military somewhere, temporary duty somewhere, finishing up. A woman, a major is present. She came in for the same conference. I talk to her about sharing a ride to the airport. Plans and agreements are made.

Time skips ahead. It’s later than I thought. I need to rush. I haven’t packed! I need to check out, too. The airport is ninety miles away. No, it’s ninety minutes away.

I need to hurry.

I’m racing, explaining to the front desk, I order a ride and tell them where to meet me. Hurrying to the room, I shower and change clothes. Shoes! Where are they? Oh, I’ve packed them. Where’s my thing, where‘s my toilet kit?

Anxiety ratchets up.

I see a car, a silvery blue sedan, like a Buick. A woman is driving. My ride, I think. I wave at her. She parks and leaves her car. I shout over, “I need more time, I’m almost ready.”

She walks over and starts following me. I’m talking to her, babbling. We’re at once outside and in the room. I finally find my toilet kit — I’ve already packed it. Damn it, where’s my head?

And the woman says, “I’m not your ride. I’m your replacement. How was your visit?”

In morning’s warm light, it all makes sense. The military was a comfortable space. Not very challenging, and straightforward. Structured, with few surprises, and a lot of positive feedback.

Now I’m out on my own, flying on my writing words but so damned dismayed. Is it smart enough, original enough, good enough?

Where is my toilet kit?

I know. Standard writer qualms. Standard human qualms.

Standard life qualms.

See ya.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Had entertaining dreams last night that energized and inspired me. As I shaved and thought about them this AM, I thought, “That’s the way I like it.”

That thought inspired my brain to start singing “That’s the Way (I Like It)” by KC & The Sunshine Band. Released in 1975, the song was major background music to my young adulthood. My wife graduated from high school that year, and we married. I was in the military and experienced my first permanent duty assignment at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base (WPAFB) where I worked in the AF Logistics Command in the Command Post. The next year, I was reassigned to the 3rd Tactical Fighter Wing, Clark Air Base, in the Philippines.

This song was played everywhere in those years, and was a song that drew everyone to the dance floor. Good times.

 

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A Wistful Dream

Light and airy was how to describe this dream. It was all about a friend, Kev. I’ve not seen him in over twenty years. A military friend, we were assigned together in California (Onizuka). Though he was about ten years younger and assigned to a different unit, we spent a lot of time together during off hours. Our relationship continued after I retired from the military. Then we each moved. I went north and he went east. We are FB friends.

I recognized after thinking about the dream that he’s emblematic of better times, fun times…younger times. There’s nothing in any of this. I’m twenty years older and more aware of my life changes. Fold in the pandemic situation, isolation, and the travel and activity restrictions incurred with the situation. Add a cup of writing frustration. Stir in a tablespoon of malaise because of my broken arm and self-pity. Bake.

In the dream, I found a piece of paper. Reading its contents, I realized that it could only come from Kev and went to find him, which was immediately achieved. We struck it off again as we always had. He was back from a temporary assignment somewhere and filled me in Then, growing sad, he told me childhood stories and began a tragic tale about a female friend. He never finished that story.

It reminded me of so much that’s incomplete.

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Some Dream Highlights

Such a strange, long dream.

At one point, I let a little pet mouse out of the bathroom into the rain. Yellow walls and a naked yellow light, decrepit age, and a sloping dirt floor defined the bathroom. I didn’t want to let the little mouse out. I knew it was storming and night, unsafe conditions, to me. I didn’t know what the mouse knew. Letting him out with regret, I vowed to check on him.

Then, dreamshift, I was at work, a new job with a familiar feel. A new boss arrived. Others were at work at clusters of desks. I was shown a desk that was to be mine but decided to find and reclaim my previous place, which I then did. I cleaned it, finding old stuff of mine. Sorting it, I decided what to keep and toss. Then, speaking with a female co-worker, I re-oriented my desk to watch the front door. I told her that I wanted to see what was going on. She agreed that was the best way to face.

My mail was delivered. It was a lot but not as much as I expected. Off I went to find the rest. As I began, the office administrator arrived with a large bundle of mail for me.

Now, dreamshift again, I was leaving with my wife to return to our hotel. First, I went back to the yellow bathroom and pulled open the door. The little mouse hurried in from the rain with a grateful look my way.

My wife and I were walking through a large market on the way back to the hotel. Then she said, “I want to get something.” I asked her what. She replied but I couldn’t hear her. She went off, leaving me to mill around.

Friends in the military came by, heading to the marshalling area to deploy. I was happy to see them. Walking with them, I told them about changes in the area because they weren’t aware. Breaking off as they arrived at their destination, I joined up with my wife. She was still shopping. Like before, I asked her what she was after. She replied but I couldn’t hear her. She went off, leaving me with a commiserating shop owner. I decided to continue to the hotel instead of waiting.

Dream end.

 

4

The Change Dream

I’d arrived, again, at a new military assignment. How many times has this happened in my dreams?

Wearing a uniform, I checked in, found billeting, changed clothes, and wandered around, orienting myself. All this happened within a large, modern building. I was pleased to be there. Anticipation filled me.

Many young people occupied the place. Everyone seemed happy and engaged with their activities. They’d been working on projects, striking me as students. I had to wait several times as people showed off their projects to their fronts, blocking the way.

But I stayed patient, indulgent, as they were younger, and I thought them less mature, and less responsible, so they deserved some latitude.

Eventually, I was assigned my permanent quarters. Going there, I was surprised that a young male and female were in my quarters. They explained that the previous occupant had just left, and they were leaving, too.

Fine with me. I began searching for my uniform and was surprised that I couldn’t find one. How the hell was that possible? I’d worn a uniform while traveling. Yet, that was gone. I’d sent clothing on ahead, but the battle dress uniforms I’d sent on were also gone. Becoming upset and annoyed, I sought some way to purchase a uniform to carry me through until my uniforms turned up.

A sharp jolt interrupted the proceedings. I was on some steps with others when it happened. Earthquake, I immediately assumed, awaiting aftershocks, ready to run. Everyone, including me, started nervously laughing with relief when no aftershocks came, and then resumed our activities.

I heard, then, that new uniforms were on the way, not just for me, but for everyone. A massive change in how we would look was being initiated. At that point, I thought, oh, I’ve been out of the military for a while. Yes, uniforms have changed since my time. Of course they’re changing. I commented on that to a young group that I encountered.

They told me, no, everyone was being given brand new uniforms as part of a makeover. In fact, they said, new guidelines about how people were supposed to act, work, and behave were also expected. They were all excited but also anxious.

Surprised by their news, I then went searching for guidance about how I was supposed to be acting while also searching for uniforms to wear. I then concluded in an epiphany, my uniform didn’t matter. I would just do what I need to do and worry about a uniform later, if necessary.

Relieved by that, I entered a room. Busy with people doing many things, usually groups, I walked around and determined that it was a rec center with a snack bar. Smelling burgers, I decided to eat, but as I walked over to order, I saw a table of blue binders. That’s the new guidance, I deduced after some studying. I took one of those and start reading. Within a few minutes, I thought, why, this is how I’ve always acted.

I looked around to tell someone else my insight, but all were excitedly talking with one another about the new guidelines. After a few moments, I went in, and ordered a cheeseburger. There was ice cream available, too, and though it tempted me, I could smell that cheeseburger. I paid and took it to my room to eat.

I took a bite of cheeseburger and enjoyed it. It was just as promised, juicy and grilled, with onions, tomatoes, and lettuce. A stillness overtook me. Time had changed. So had the world. The things that were normal were no longer true. My little sisters had aged, my parents had aged, I had aged, my wife had aged, the world had aged.

Guidelines pushed aside, I began eating. The dream ended.

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Thursday’s Theme Music

Out in the backyard last night, breathing in the quiet and cool air, looking for stars through the clouds. A cat twined around my legs and then did a tuck and roll, stretching out for a belly rub.

Lyrics from a Smashing Pumpkin song, “Tonight, Tonight” (1996) came to mind. I’d just retired from the military the year before and was in my first civilian position ever as an adult. It was a bit different, and I was questioning myself and my plans back in that era.

And you know you’re never sure
But you’re sure you could be right
If you held yourself up to the light
And the embers never fade

h/t Genius.com

Funny, but I’m still questioning myself and my plans, in this era. ‘Nuff said.

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Beginning Puzzle #9

There was box on the front porch mat. 

I’d been in the office for a while. To get to the front porch, the office must be passed. The office has a large window which faces the street, driveway, and walk, so that I can watch for zombies and aliens. The phantom deliverer was either invisible or a ninja.

Ninja Delivery – “When you don’t want people to see it coming.”

I informed my wife of the find. She was as surprised as me. “I didn’t hear a truck or anything.”

Anything, I guess, were footfalls. I was nodding, but thinking, at what point had I been dashing around the house naked? I used to do it often, less so after the Okinawa Incident.

We were stationed at Kadena Air Base on Okinawa (or in Okinawa Prefecture), Japan. As we were lowly enlisted people, we were residing off-base. There wasn’t enough housing for everyone on base. We enjoyed our little apartment. Two of them could fit into our great room, the cathedral-ceiling living-dining-kitchen combo in our current house. The whole place was like an Easy Bake kitchen blown up by about four times.

Living there was fun. The place was full of couples like us. Typhoon parties were lively, although the walls were thin. The newlyweds’ loud and energetic coupling brought everyone in the neighborhood over to ensure no one was being killed. Space between apartment buildings and houses were tight. I chose that day after showering to turn on music and dance around naked, entertaining my wife and the cats.

I was also entertaining three third-grade girls on the porch next door, just five feet away from the bedroom where I gyrated…until I saw them. High on music, by the time I’d noticed them, they were sneaking away. I’m sure I shocked them for life.

Since the Okinawa Incident, I’ve been more careful about dancing around the house naked. My wife still calls if she’s coming home and bringing someone along, though. It’s safer for everyone.

I’d not danced around that day, but I had stripped naked for a shower and then remembered that I’d wanted to check on something in the office. What the hell, what are the chances of someone being outside and looking in just as naked me sauntered by?

Yet, my mind summoned an image of the UPS guy hurrying to the door, preparing to ring the bell, package in hand, and seeing me through one of the windows on either side of the door. As he’s ready to ring the bell, my nude man-feast passes by the window. Averting his eyes with a hard gulp, he mutters, “I’ll just leave this here,” and flees, head down, like someone’s shooting at him.

Anyway, I learned from checking tracking numbers on the Internet machine that these are the puzzles we’d ordered from Zulily. After letting the package sit outside for a few hours to lose some of its COVID-19 strength, I brought it in and put it in the sanitizing zone. When another day had passed, we deemed it safe to risk opening the package.

Oh, new puzzles. I was sure that they probably had all the pieces. One — fifteen hundred pieces (yeah, we’re getting bold) — featured a red Corvette. The year isn’t given, but I guess it’s a 1960. I had a neighbor who had one, and once rode in the trunk, so I was pretty sure about it. You don’t forget something like that.

“That’s a lot of red,” my wife said. I know she’s thinking of past puzzles that featured long stretches of blue sky, blue oceans, or green lawns.

We turned to the other one. It’s a lovely reproduction of a David Bradley painting with vivid colors and many details. I opened the box. The colors look true. Among the pieces were eyes, heads, and faces. That appealed to us; it’s easier to find faces and put them on heads than test red piece after red piece.

We began today, because it’s Sunday. An old wise woman once told us that it’s best to start new projects on a Sunday.

Damn, I just realize that she said Monday.

Or was it Friday?

Oh, well, what do days of the week matter during this period, when most of us are inside, hunkering down against zombies or alien invaders?

We have begun the puzzle.

 

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The Luggage & Shoes Dream

First, the dream was in two parts. I dreamed part one, awoke, returned to sleep and had part two.

Second, it again involved military. I understand more about myself, though, like I’m terrible at socializing. The military with its rank and structure gave me a niche where I was comfortable.

In both dream parts, I was in civilian clothes and traveling alone (which I often did in the mil and civilian life, because of my specialized roles).

Part one had me arriving at a hectic place lousy with Army personnel. They were arriving and staging. All of them were in uniform. Many had down time and were waiting to move on. It was all out doors, and it was a mess.

For my part, I’d arrived, found a place for my two bags, left them, and headed off to find food. Then I’d figure out where I was to next go.

Well, after eating (which happened off-dream, apparently), I went to use a can. All the cans were out of order, which pissed me off (no pun intended). I wandered for a while in search of working facilities. I did find and use a shower, and then eventually discovered a working but filthy latrine.

I’d wandered a long way and had lost orientation, with no idea where I’d left my bags. I began that search. After a bit, I went up on a hill.

A person who used to work with me waved to me from up there. She came down to chat. She was traveling on a separate mission. I told her that I’d lost my bags and had to go look for them. Bored, with time to kill, she volunteered to come and help.

We went down the hill to a sort of ad hoc intersection. While there, she spotted a piece of paper fluttering on the ground. It looked like a set of orders. Picking it up, she read my name off it. She realized that it said something about what’d happened with my bags. With her leading, we went to see a man. She gave him the paper, and he (complaining as he did) gave me one of my bags. I was thankful, but she had to go. That was okay, though, because suddenly I completely knew where I was and went right to my second bag.

Awakening at that point, I thought about it all. The dream setting’s chaos and messiness bothered me, as did the fact that I couldn’t remember and find my bags on my own. I went back to sleep.

I was back in the same place, but order had been established. With chairs set up, all the troops were sitting in order. I had my bags, and the toilets were working. I also had food. We’d been provided with box lunches on the long flight over. I’d not eaten mine, so I had two big sandwiches along with other things to eat in a clear plastic bag that I was carrying.

On arriving, my feet hurt, so I removed my shoes and set the to one side. I had a rental car so I was basically going to eat and use the facilities and then hit the road. As I walked around, though, I worried about my hair not being in reg (I was notorious for that back in the day). I found the barbershop but it was busy. A commander and his staff passed by me. After deciding that I couldn’t do anything about my hair, I decided to eat and leave.

First, I wanted my shoes. I knew where I’d left them but they weren’t there. Irritated, I started searching for them. I spotted them in the middle of a wide, beaten dirt road. As I went to get them, an army PFC (female) was crossing the road and kicked one of my shoes. I yelled at her for that; she gave me a dirty look. I then got my shoes (loafers, as I was still in civies), put them on, and went to a table, where I sat down to eat.

End dream.

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