Holy crap!

I'm a smoker. I can count the number of times I've interacted with smokeless tobacco on hand and have several fingers left over.

However, if I had any confidence that this sign was anything but an odd arrangement of words, I'd buy stock in Copenhagen



I mean, c'mon. How cool would that be?

Sign courtesy of one of the fine gas stations of Wayland, Michigan.

What happens in northern Tennessee...

I'm 720 miles from home, rolling around in a motel bed with a handsome black guy. The downside, of course, is that he's neutered, has a tail, and requires frequent reminders that there's no ass-licking on the bed.

I'm well past the halfway point, which always makes me happy. I added about 50 miles to my trip by refusing to drive in either Oklahoma (which has been trying to kill me with its weather for about eight years now) or Illinois (because I don't think there's any way on earth to make my Jeep groovy with their firearms transport laws, and their gas is expensive).

I did the always-fun search for the rattiest available motel, and found one that didn't care if I wanted to bring a donkey into my room if I didn't mind paying the $5 pet fee.

Average mileage per gallon over the first 557.5 miles of travel was 17.17, which isn't bad considering I'm around 3000 rpm at 73 mph (my preferred speed of travel). I probably lost some off that average battling the wind on the last leg, but I won't have the numbers until I fill up in the morning. Unleaded regular ran me an average of $3.292/gallon, but two of the three fillups were in Arkansas, so that number is going nowhere but up.

It's late, and one of us has been pretty nervous, so he probably needs one more "out" before we call it a night.

Weather

I do not normally wake up for bad weather. But a band of storms came through last night that had me catapulting out of bed around 0330.

All is well here, but I did note one thing... I got up, peered out the windows, muttered "Holy shit...." Then I heard some sirens start up.

I was farily sure that meant something bad, but I figured it was possible they were sounding because it was
A - a severe thunderstorm warning
B - a tornado warning
C - a flash flood warning (there are several "low spots" in our immediate area)

Satellite TV is about as useful as a screen door on a submarine in heavy rain, so I hit a local news website to find out what the story was. That proved entirely useless, offering some random imagery of a band of heavy weather, and NO INFORMATION on warnings or watches.

Fortunately, weather.com is always there for me, and as soon as I entered my ZIP code, let me know that we were under just about every sort of warning one gets in Texas, tornado included.

Seeing as we don't have a basement and neither of us felt like hiding in the closet, I went back to bed and to sleep at that point. But it was nice to know. Cheers for weather.com, and a big boo-hiss to nbc51.

Incidentally, there was more heavy weather out there last night. I'm taking off on a road trip today, and the other end of the evil weather was in the county next to my destination.

Could be a fun drive.

Note to self:

The day after running an Army physical fitness test may not be the best day to get range time. Because it's awfully hard to hold a pistol at arm's length for any length of time when one has spaghetti arms as a result of pushups.

[sigh]

We're off for a couple days of fishing. The laptop is coming along in case there's internet access.

Woo-hoo!

27 days on orders for the Wart Yolk evolution, followed by a regular weekend drill. That's 29 days of early mornings and uniforms.

So this evening, I'm watching a Star Wars marathon with the Mister and catching up on some of the beer I haven't been drinking when I've needed to be present and coherent before sunrise.

Extra bonus for tonight - a quick shot of the infamous "Wire Moment," or, at least, the aftermath a few hours later. Not so bad, really.

Easy fixes

So there I was, driving to Wart Yolk. I was getting a very strange vibration out of the Jeep's bass.

I was not happy. The Jeep is not a quiet ride, and I like to drive with music I can hear. But I was getting a buzzy rattle. Or a rattly buzz. Something uncool.

I got home, pointed out to the Mister that I'd like him to take a look at the speaker. I have another, longer, road trip coming up, and if I needed to replace a speaker, I wanted to know.

"You probably blew it," he said.

I shrugged. I dunno. Couldn't remember cranking the volume real recently, but there are a lot of things I can't remember.

Last night he got around to it. We went out in the driveway and skipped around on the CD until we found something with some bass. He turned the volume up, cocked his head (kinda like Jack watching TV, now that I think about it). Listened. Turned around and gave me the Oh God My Wife Is Retarded look.

He reached down next to my seat, extracted a manila folder with eight or ten sheets of spare Army paperwork. Turned the volume way up.

No rattle. No buzz.

"You want to keep things from being, you, know, like pinned up against the speaker."

[sigh]

My hero.

Home

Is always a nice place to be. Particularly when the Mister has made fresh coffee and swept up the excess dog hair.

Life is good.

Ahh...civilization

I am out of the woods, and back in the relatively civilized "rear" area of Wart Yolk. My group has another day or so of turning crap in before we actually leave.

"Turning stuff in" is always excruciating, but we're progressing. I already had the single most painless vehicle washing experience of my military career, when we pulled into the washracks and found...a herd of privates with power washing equipment. How about that?

The internet access point shares a space with a fast food eatery, so it's packed. It is, however, not packed with my soldiers, which is kinda nice. I love soldiers, and the Army, but it doesn't take long before you beging to crave being not talked to. I had an especially talkative bunch this time. Two of the three were in capable of embracing silence. It got painful.

I shall probably return tomorrow. I have lots of things to catch up on, and the fast food is calling my name.

About the wire...

Ok,ok! About the wire. Sometimes, you need wire and do not have gloves. Hands heal. However, I will be adding a pair of heavy leather gloves to my bag in the future. My time in the woods here at Wart Yolk is nearing its end. Fortunate, because I need internet access, a cold beer and some not-Army companionship. Unfortunately, those things will most likely come in that order.

Things that make you say, "DUH!"

Because I am a slow learner, I yet again handled concertina wire without gloves. Ouch.

Too much fun

I did not forget my boots, and the trip down here was as much fun as a convoy of civilian vehicles traveling 62mph down the interstate can be. Ugh. It's embarassing to be passed by those houses being pulled behind semi's.

I had envisioned the internet to be easier to find, and Blogger to be harder to get to. Instead it's the opposite.

The training evolution we're participating in sounds pretty interesting, but it hasn't really hit full swing yet. I will give the Army some props - they are doing a tremendous amount of research to try to keep their training updated and relevent.

That said, I should probably bail out and return to the parking lot that is our unofficial company headquarters. Actually, it's the hood of one humvee. But we like it, and sit around drinking coffee, smoking cigarettes, and bullshitting while leaning up against it.

I love this stuff. I can't believe they pay me to do it.

Ready to go (again)

Hitting the road again tomorrow for more motivating training.

I don't think I'll be entirely off the map - I should be able to reach out and post a couple of times. We'll see. I may also look into testing some posting-with-the-aid-of-others options.

Tonight was packing. I love packing.



Yeah. That's the "at home" version of the gear layout. I don't know if I'm forgetting something major or if I'm just less inclined to tote along gear I know I won't use (e-tool? I am not dragging an e-tool around anymore), but it didn't seem like much stuff at all.

It packed up nicely, too.



There's room in all those bags, and, since I forgot shoes earlier this week, I am imagining all sorts of stuff I may have left out.

But the important stuff is there: helmet? check. armor and gear? check. cigarettes? check. shower shoes? check.

Everything else will work itself out.

Wow.

I have absolutely nothing to say today.

I could give you a recap of today's pre-training training with the Army, but it was pretty dull the first time, and believe you me, you are not interested.

I did manage to show up in PT gear, participate in PT, shower and partially change before I realized that although I had a complete Army Combat Uniform in my bag, my boots were tucked neatly under the end of my bed. At the house. Forty miles from the Reserve Center.

The only thing better than being the Daily Dumbass is being the Daily Dumbass who wears her slightly-rank PT uniform all day.

[sigh]

If we can't serve as a positive example, we can always serve as a warning.

I am the worst person

on earth.

Know why?

Because I cannot stand, cannot abide, am enraged/nauseated/sickened by "School Zones."

Did I miss something? Sometimes I think I've missed all these dangers. At exactly what point did it become necessary to lower all speed limits on all roads within 57 miles of any sort of educational institution to like 20 miles an hour?

I cross a school zone once in a while, when I cannot plan my entire day around avoiding it. This morning, however, I tried to drive down the road to get on the highway. I left the house at 0732. My freakin' mistake.

The two or so miles between here and the expressway took 1,000 years. Going roughly 20. Oh, once in a while, the school zone would end, but then I'd be within 500 yards of a possible potential route for some simpering child, and it would drop back down.

Did I see any children? No. No children. But the mere possibility of children, and the possibility of possibily causing them harm if they wandered, drooling and confused, into the street...well, we can't have that.

Because Children Are The Future.

A phenomenally stupid future, if blinking crosswalks manned by old people with handheld stopsigns, roadguard vests and flashlights can't get them across a road.

But we all love children, right?

And some of us love children more than the rest of us. They are Better People, because they care so darn much about the future. Know how you can tell who they are?

They are the morons who drive 14mph in the school zone, instead of 20, because that might not be quite safe enough.

This is the sort of thing that would drive me insane in any situation - I can be honest about that. But the worst of it is that I never have to navigate through large groups of young people walking to school. Or zipping along on bikes. Because they don't do that. It appears that children are now driven to school. I see more SUVs lined up dropping kids off than I see buses.

I can pretty much count the number of times I was dropped off at school as a kid on one hand. I rode the bus! For more than an hour! And I liked it!

The children of Texas. Apparently, too stupid to cross roads, and too lazy to walk their happy asses to school.

Harumph.

(And hey - why do church schools get these signs? They're not supposed to be getting my tax dollars, so why am I paying for signs with blinking lights outside Our Lady Of Perpetual Self-Flagellation? If Jesus loves you, he'll get you across the road even if I am doing 35)

Things Jack Doesn't Understand

I am have Army stuff this week (and the next couple, actually). This morning I have to go to the unit in PT gear.

Did you know that it's impossible to explain to a year-old lab-and-somethin' that you're putting on running clothes and shoes, and yet, have no intention of taking him running?

Speaking of PT gear, I spent 45 minutes last night searching (ultimately successfully) for that goddam reflective PT belt. I finally found it, which is fortunate, because I wouldn't want to join that long list of Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines and Coasties who have been tragically cut down by vehicles while wearing a PT uniform.

Fortunately, the belt protects us while we're in workout clothes (necessary, since only four of five exterior garments that comprise the Army's Improved Physical Fitness Uniform have reflective features). And, oddly enough, the overwhelming risk of being mowed down by crazed motorists totally disappears once one dons the Army Combat Uniform. The ACU, of course, has zero reflective features and yet has not seemed to lead to pointless deaths on sidewalks and in parking lots across the United States.

[sigh]

I don't know that I'm in the right spirit for Army stuff this morning.

Seen at WalMart

I swear, I have either got to get faster with my phone's camera function or start carrying my normal camera.

I was buying treats Friday and noticed the sign...



What the heck is a dog solution??? I was looking for bottles labeled 10% beagle or 17.4% rat terrier, but no such luck.

I missed a beautiful shot earlier this month of a WalMartian woman crossing the parking lot barefoot. I was too busy blinking in confusion to whip out the camera...

Puppies, cliff, etc

So, I assume we've all run across the video of the jackass jarhead tossing a puppy off a cliff. Mom - do NOT click on the link!

Well, some folks got mighty riled up about that. Rightfully so. We expect our Marines to do the right thing. And here's a hint - cruelty to critters is never the right thing.

The gentleman who made the site above included the address of the Marine and an offer of $100 0to whomever slapped him around first.

Although we sympathize, it turned out that the Marine's address was that of his parents.

Some fine Marine shot an email to author of this website, who had publicized his offer here. The author then kindly reconsidered his words, and decided there was a better use for that $1,000.

Why my interest, you ask?

That Fine Marine was our very own Mr. Abby, who pointed out that the Corps would deal with this young man, and suggested to the gentleman who offered up the "reward" that it might not be the best idea.

This is some good stuff

I am not an unreserved fan of Senator Jim Webb. I am a woman who wears combat boots, and I like to think I do it reasonably well, and so, on some level, I will always want to kick him in the kneecap for some of his past work.

That does not, however, take away from the fact that Webb is a no-shit war hero, who led Marines in combat with undisputed valor. Prior to his election to the Senate, he was a tireless voice for Vietnam veterans. And now, he's the pointman on an what would be an amazing initiative.

We're going to do a long quote here, because this is tremendous stuff.

His enhanced GI Bill would be available to any member, active or reserve, who has served at least three months on active duty since Sept. 11, 2001. The level of benefits would be tied to length of service. The $1200 member buy-in under the current Montgomery GI Bill would be returned.

The bigger change would be in the value of benefits. Maximum benefits, earned for 36 months' active duty, would cover tuition for up to four years at a level to match tuition at the most expensive in-state public school. The average across states is about $1900 a month. MGIB pays $1100.

Webb's bill also would pay a monthly stipend to cover living expenses. The stipend would reflect local housing costs near school and would be set to equal military Basic Allowance for Housing for married enlisted in grade E-5.

The GI Bill now can be a pretty good deal. You get accepted to a school and, if you have the full GI Bill (earned only by folks who've done active duty time), you can receive up to $1100 a month as long as you're enrolled full-time (payments are prorated if you're enrolled with a lesser courseload).

Which works out alright, if you're going someplace very cheap, and can afford to pay for everything up front and let the payments "reimburse" you. And you are living back with your parents or working a good, solid second job.

I'm trying to not sound whiny here, because lots of folks who never associate with the military live in refigerator crates and sell plasma to get through school. The current GI Bill is nice. It helps. It really can be nice for guys who just do one term, stay single, and get out with the ability to live cheap and scrape for a few years.

But for older servicemembers, or those who retire, it's really not quite enough to bring your family through your education.

This proposal is nice. I called the Mister over to see this and said, "Hey, honey! Look at this! If this passed, we could both go to college! Real college!"

Now, this might pass, and it might not. And it might pass in a different form. But there is some institutional resistance from DoD, and I point out it out, because it's the DoD trying to not do the right thing.

That's a worrisome vow for Defense officials who believe enhanced post-service education benefits, particularly if enacted while troops face multiple deployments to Iraq and Afghanistan, could trigger an exodus severe enough to put the viability of the volunteer military at risk.

We should not hold back the good bennies for the sole purpose of not offering our warriors any better option than staying in uniform. That is not the right way to treat our Soldiers, Sailors, Airmen, Marines and Coasties.

Anyway. Worth paying attention to as this election year progresses. We wish Sen. Webb the best of luck with this one.

(as a caveat, it also appears this GI Bill revision would treat reservists and guardsmen proportionally well. I regret I can't comment much on the education benefits for this group, since I took my active duty GI Bill and tucked it in my cargo pocket and haven't looked back)

Well, I'm sold

Political ads are either very bad, or very good. This one is very good, odd outer-space imagery aside.



I am certain none of you are surprised that I am John McCain fan, but even if I weren't, his excellent use two of my favorite Dead White Guys would put this ad pretty high on my list.

Pro Carry Wringout Part II

Went back to the range with another 200 rounds after a good cleaning and lube. I am impressed by the improvement. While on my last trip, the failure to return to battery issue was...frequent, I had three in this trip.

So another cleaning and lube is in order, and I may have one more opportunity to put another 100 or 150 rounds downrange before duty takes me out of the recreational shooting routine for a couple of weeks.

I am pleased.

And no - no pictures this time. They look a lot like the last batch, except I didn't use the green targets and my third 50(ish) totally sucked.