"Give me money!"

This is what the enchanting local shepherd children call out from the other side of the cyclone fence as I am cycling by on the pink tactical girl bike. Folks tell me they also throw stones. What dears. Could this be a metaphor?

Flatbed gourmet

Bleary eyed, I decided to take a break last night. While walking amongst the B Huts, I noticed that the Motor Pool garage light was still on. Behold! It was Texan D lining up the ingredients for his secret wing sauce on the back of a flat bed truck. A lady in Georgia gave him the recipe, I will share it with you. I observed Texan D put a goodly portion of butter (where did he find that?) into a pyrex bowl, an insane amount of Ranch seasoning, Texas Pete's Hot Sauce, lemon juice, and garlic powder. He mixed it, microwaved it until "it separated." He had collected a number of buffalo wings from the DFAC, and slathered the wings in the sauce. I tried two. The pucker factor was quite high.

Gossiping with Alma

One notable aspect about this mobilization is the acceleration at which one makes friends. (It's akin to "speed dating", the gist here is within the first 5 minutes of meeting someone, you can determine whether they are compatible.) Alma and I really haven't known each other for very long, but we instant message (IM) like a house on fire. She is a critical comms node.

Ran into Senior Chief R

I ran into Senior on my way to lunch today. She is from my unit back in California. Many members of my unit are dispersed as individual augmentees throughout Iraq and Afghanistan, and Tampa for the really lucky folks. It was heartening to chat with Senior. She's a great influence and I wish her luck on her assignment. She just finished her training at Fort Jackson/Udari Range and remarked that no one really talks about how tough the training was. It's probably because people block it out. That's why I am blogging about my tour, much of this stuff is so fleeting.

PTGB flat

This morning I woke to discover the front tire of the bike was flat. I took the tire over to the Motor Pool, and there I met Texan D, who took command and control of the tire situation. Texan D utilized Fix-a-Flat to mend the stem leak. What a champ. I will keep my fingers crossed. Texan D, a fellow that likes food, recommended the Friday surf and turf at some new swanky DFAC across base. I will try to make it happen.

New holster

Today Kentucky B, in Southern gentlemanly fashion, accompanied me to the Exhange. I needed to purchase a new holster as the one I was issued is cumbersome, wrapping around my right thigh. As I walk, I keep clocking my thumb on the pistol butt. There were two options of interest- the belt or the shoulder option. I opted for the shoulder style. It is made of Afghan leather and stamped so. A keep sake.

Kentucky B

Kentucky B is a friendly sort. He and his crew are here to upgrade farming infrastructure. Apparently when the Russians (Soviets) were here, the native farming practices were lost. They even have a vet with them. You can learn more about their efforts at this link.

I invited myself to their table at dinner, trying to gel with these fellows from Kentucky. Kentucky B mentioned that when he gets back home, he is looking to move to a more upbeat, active place outside of Kentucky. He described Kentucky as impoverished.

Precious cargo/Monthiverssary

I have arrived at my new ULTDUSTA with my pink tactical girl bike and eight other bags. This time around I will have a firmer mattress and a cubicled bedroom with a blanket for a door. It took me a couple of days to get here, but I had three beers along the way and a few swims in a beautiful pool. I went to the DFAC here and met two Safety guys, M and Malaria G. I introduced them to the cool table concept. They were a lot of fun and we walked after dinner, while they showed me around the place. I cannot wait to reassemble the pink tactical girl bike and explore the area. Malaria G tells me there is an informal cycling group called Jihad Garage.

This is my third month OCONUS BOG (boots on ground).

Saturday is Mongolian Night

I joined the cool table pack for a remote dining experience at a DFAC with authentic metal flatware and hard plastic plates for the weekly treat known as Mongolian BBQ. I am a novice at the art, creating for myself a Sodium Surprise, featuring my old Iraq stand-by chicken. Waiting in line for the SERKA/KBR guys to cook up these Mongolian concoctions, Connecticut Z and I were talking about things Connecticut. Like Carvel Ice Cream. Still unresolved from earlier today: the grape vines featured in the state's flag, what country/countries are they from? The vines stand for the first settlements of English people who began to move from Massachusetts in the 1630's. These settlements were thought of as grapevines that had been transplanted, according to 50 states.com Qui Transtulit Sustinet.

We all road back in the back of a pick up truck. It was great fun.

Rotting testicles?

Like trench foot, or so Steve contended in his lunch time defense of why many pilots do not wear conventional briefs. A word to the wise about the zippered flight suit: Wear boxers.

Star knot

Richard, the ultimate Boatswain's mate, has mastered the star knot, and he has emailed me the proof. The star knot is a toughy and Richard has cracked the code.

McMunn does it again

Last night at dinner, there was a news feature with woman's talking head, with her name and title "housewife." I was prompted to ask Alabama's own MSgt McMunn, "Master Sargeant, what is a housewife?" In that Alabama drawl he responded, "It's kind of like a house pet," adding that a pet was happier to see you when you got home.

In the background on the news there was a story of the PETA organization's campaign against McDonald's cruel methods of processing chickens. I noted to McMunn that a housewife would come in handy killing chickens for the household. McMunn responded that the only time you would see a housewife and a chicken is if it were deep fried in front of her at the table.

Secret Squirrel patch

Yesterday, as I was walking back to the compound, a vehicle pulled over to the side of the road. To my surprise it was three members of the cool table. They offered me a ride back, which I accepted. CMSgt R was driving and he handed me a Secret Squirrel patch. I'll note here that many of the cool table crowd wear this patch and he had no doubt heard that I wanted a patch too. I squarely planted a loud kiss on his cheek. He had no choice in the matter. His entire bald head blushed.

Epidurals and tramp stamps

Tonight I met Big Ed and N. Connecticut Z was there as well. Connecticut Z and I have been struggling with Jay's absence. In fact, we started the cool table session out by talking about Jay. That's just part of our recovery, acknowledging that we have a problem. Bravely, we segued to the topic of tatoos, then piercings, and the fact that you cannot get an epidural if you have a tramp stamp. It's all part of the healing that's going on at the cool table.