Update...The young man leans against the grey cinder block wall. Taking a slow drag from a cigarette, he looks around cautiously. Slow exhale...adjusting the rifle hanging from his shoulder..."Damn..."
Resolutions...
It is a new year. Of course everyone is obliged to have New Year's resolutions for some reason or another. Therefore, even though I am near perfect in my own eyes, I resolve to do the following this year...
1) I resolve to bring my bathroom up to at least 1970's style. Nothing says "Great Depression" like the radiator in the old wooden box.
2) I resolve to be a better husband. I've sorta been coasting on this one lately. This is the year to rev up the engines and remind her that I'm her handsome sumbitch loverboy! Git some!
3) I resolve to pace myself on the cheeseburgers this year. Please note, I did not say "give up". I figure if I pace myself to maybe...three or four a week, I should be good. Cheeseburgers are like my kryptonite made of crack. My biggest weakness, but very addictive.
4) I resolve to dance naked to techno at least once this upcoming year. Umm...nuf said bout that.
5) I resolve to get my 300 PFT this year. I'll be 30, and the 300 just looks damn symmetrical next to it. It was meant to be dammit!
6) I resolve not to work out more...but to work out smarter. Going till vomit or blackouts will no longer fly. I'm not as young as I once was. Well, maybe just once in awhile won't hurt...
7) I resolve to be the best god-damned motivated leatherneck'd jarhead Marine shit-kicker ever seen in this hemisphere. (resolution not valid in Eastern and Southern hemispheres, void where prohibited)
8) I resolve to continue this blog for yet another year. Because mediocrity and mundanity need a place to chill. Woah, did I just use those two big "m" words in a sentence?! SWEEET!So there you have them, my resolutions. Will I be a better person this year? Perhaps. Perhaps not. But at least this year I start out with chevrons on my shoulder, a healthy son, loving wife, and a warm home. Better would be nice, but what I already have is pretty good too. Thanks for stopping in.
Workout Bugs...Okay, I'm going back to workout in the evenings because I'm a motivated Devildog. Ooh-rah! Not to mention I find the prospect of getting anything lower than a high first class PFT appalling. I understand that I'm not the only person in that gym. I KNOW that. Alright? I know it's not mine and it's a privilege, blah blah blah! But there are some things that downright piss me the fuck off! Here are a few of them in no particular order:1) Out of all the empty lockers in the locker room, that slimy little douchebag has to set up shop right next to your naked ass. Then he has to hurry and get naked, only to take his sweet time getting dressed. 2) The sauna takes a long time to heat up. It's not some magical wooden box that magically and instantaneously becomes hot. No fuckstick...there is a tiny-ass heating element under them there rocks that heats the whole room. I turn it on when I start my workout so it's nice and toasty when I finish in an hour. Leaving the damn door open or cranking the knob all the way around so it'll start heating in 8 fucking hours DOES NOT MAKE IT HOT!!3) Muscleheads, staring at yourself in the mirror is a sign of extreme narcissism. It's alright when you need to watch your form, but when you just stand there jaw agape, staring at your own reflection for several minutes...it makes you look like an idiot.4) Speaking of staring...yes the woman on the stair stepper is hot. We all see her and she has made it very obvious she wants to be seen. Walking in front of her ten times in three minutes while staring at her is downright ass-tastic. Knock it off! You're playing right into her hands. It's a friggin reverse of number 3.5) Ignoring the huge sign up sheet for treadmills and running on the fucker for one hour at a nice slow 3 MPH trot is NOT working out. It's being a mill hog. I hope you trip and launch yourself into the wall. You want to run a marathon, go outside and run Forrest run!6) See those barbells? Yeah they're not eggs and you're not the mother hen. You don't need the entire collection surrounding you to do ONE set of exercises. Didn't you learn to share in kindergarten?!7) If I'm working out, minding my own business, please don't come up to me and suggest a better way. I don't care if you read in some magazine that so-and-so does it this way, so I should as well. Leave me alone. You're almost three hundred pounds and wheezing. If I need eating advice, I'll consult you. Until then, get your wheezing ass on an elliptical.8) Speaking of magazines. If you can read one while working out...YOU AREN'T WORKING HARD ENOUGH! If you are going to take the time to do something, why can't you do it to the best of your abilities? Focus, put in an effort, and reap the benefits. It's that easy.9) When you get out of the pool, the sauna is NOT a place to warm up because your nuts shrivelled in the cold. It took me over an hour to get the heat built up. Yet you, your buddy, his kid, and whoever the hell else, cram their smelly asses into the sauna and stand around like jackasses. Then they all leave at the same time...taking all the heat with them and leaving a nice bleachy smell behind. Thanks guys.10) Finally, if you are going to take a shower, please remember...it is not your shower at home. Please don't blow snot all over the place, or clean that deep crevasse that you missed earlier with your hand, and if you are gonna piss in the shower, at least TRY to hide it. You don't have to hold your junk and stare at it as you piss all over the wall. You're disgusting and I pity the poor soul who has to clean up after you. Alright, that's enough complaining. Just thought I would get it all off my chest. Carry on.
Conversations of the Self...Self, you know...things are getting better.How so?Well, for one you're back in the Corps. You've always wanted to do that.True.Another, you're still in shape.Yeah...The family is doing great.Yes they are.There's only one thing I wish you would do.What's that self?Would you PLEASE get someone to fix that goddamned faucet in the bathroom!? It's driving me nuts!Oh...uh sure...lemme get right on it............You're not going to do it are you.Um...maybe later.Goddammit.
Marine Reserve Drill - Day 4I'm surrounded by young Marines in a large gymnasium-like room. A dozen cafeteria tables line the center. Each occupied by groups of four to five. Lance Corporals and PFCs over here...Corporals over there...Sergeants there. They all seem to know one another. I sit off to the side and watch. It's not that I don't want to join them. I'm just taking it all in. I still can't believe I'm back in. I look down in front of me, my partially disassembled rifle laying on its side. I pick up the lower receiver and rest the pistol grip in the palm of my hand. My fingers curl around it gently. The heft is oddly comforting to me. Why? I pick up a rag and start wiping it down. It's so clean...so smooth...The sweet and bitter smell of the CLP rises to my nose and I close my eyes briefly. Memories of armories in Parris Island, San Diego, and Camp Pendleton flash in my mind. I remember the faces of people I haven't thought of in almost a decade. I wonder whatever happened to them...I start to reassemble my rifle...lost in the corridor of my memories. I'm smiling. Perhaps a little too much. A Sergeant who looks to be almost five years younger than me walks by and gives me a "What the fuck you so happy bout?!"I'm ready to answer but he's already ten feet away. Oh well. I take the Q-tip and run it along the inside of the assembly. It comes back spotless. Ahhh...perfection... I reassemble it quickly and test the action. It clicks and slides smoothly. The feel of my rifle is like an old friend. A part of my soul that has been missing. My body remembers it. It yearns to slide into a firing position and send some rounds downrange. I bring it to my shoulder and point to to the ceiling just for the feel. No...not yet...I gotta wait. It drops down to my chest.Lifting my head, I look around. The crowd around me carries on. Each table with their own attitude, their own world. Their own conversations...friendships...families. Yet each of us, bonded together for a common purpose... So much strength is here with me. I'm honored and humbled just to be here....wearing this uniform...caressing this weapon..."Anyone sitting here?"My reverie is broken by another Corporal in my platoon. I look up and motion for him to sit. As he does, three other Marines join us. "Jesus, you looked lost there dude!" one of them says.Giving a big smile, I place the buttstock of my rifle on the table and immediately begin disassembling my rifle again. "No, just happy to be here."They start laughing. "Yeah right!" Yes, a good joke. The rifle is in pieces again in front of me. I notice a fleck of something on the inside. Hmmm...I guess it could use another cleaning...
Marine Reserve Drill - Day 1PART ONEThe windshield wipers struggle to keep up with the rain as the Tracker speeds down the dark interstate. Slower traffic slips past as the man quickly looks to his directions, then the clock...the road...his speed...then back to the road. It's cold, and I'm going to be late for my first formation. Not good.Thankfully, I arrive at the strange park with 10 minutes to spare. I find a space in the crowded parking lot and turn off the engine. Looking outside the windshield, I see the dark shadows of people milling around. With a deep breath in, I step outside...to the freezing rain. I check my uniform and go to the back of my car. With cold weather like this, I'm going to need to put my sweater on under my cammies. Before I get a chance to reach for it, I hear a loud voice in the distance call out, "If you're not in formation you're LATE! Move it Marines!"Shit! I slam my door shut and run off to the first group of people. They are already calling out last names. Remembering what the First Sergeant told me, I am to find the Fourth Platoon. I tap the random stranger's shoulder next to me. "Hey, where's Fourth Platoon at?""Up there." he replies as he points to another random group of camo-clad Marines. "Thanks!" I say as I jog over to the other formation. The rain is soaking through my clothes. It's at this point, I realize that it's not only raining, but windy as well. This is going well...I'm late and lost.I jump at the back of poorly organized formation. The guys are all having their own conversations. It's hard to hear anything. I start to shiver. Damn it's cold! It's so dark I can barely make out facial features. There are no street lights on. Everyone has morphed into faceless masses with varying height and voices. I hear something faintly from the front, "If you didn't hear your name called, come up here and let me know."I step out and push my way through the people mobbing the sides of our formation. By the time I reach the front, the people that were walking around have disappeared. Goddammit! I scan around and see nobody that looks official. I sigh and walk to the back of the formation. When I find a nice spot, I stand there. A tall Marine looks down at me quizzically. Yeah buddy, I know what you're thinking..."who the fuck are you?!"I just keep my eyes forward. There will be plenty of time to give a damn about these people later. Right now, I just need to focus on staying warm. I relax into the cold as the shivering starts to rack my body. Don't think about it...just relax...it'll be over soon. A moving dark mass in the front starts to talk...it's hard to make out what he's saying..."...alright... get going... fall out and...make sure you...then we'll...after that...good to go?!""Ooh-Rah" the Marines in the first squad, closest to him yell. Oh now what the fuck was that all about? I guess I'll just follow along wi-"BATTALION Ayeuh-ten-hoo!" I snap to attention. "When I give you the command to fall out, fall out and form up on your designated areas! FALL OUT!"The mob of cammies start moving toward the soccer field in front of us. A small generator powered light comes on and the grass is dimly illuminated. I stick to my platoon like glue. In the dark, I'm just another faceless member of the mob. Nice and safe. Everyone separates and goes in different directions. I pick a group of guys that look they know what they're doing. We start forming into lines in front of a WM (female Marine) with a very warm looking Gore-Tex on. She starts talking in a soft voice. Apparently giving instructions on what we're doing. "What's this called officially again?" I ask the nearest person."CFT, the Combat Fitness Test. Some stupid shit if you ask me.." Noticing my collar, "Corporal."I nod my head and turn my attention back to the WM. She's taken the first poor soul in line and is walking him slowly through the course. A quick run down about 20 yards...then running around a small cone backwards. He drops to his face and starts low crawling. "Ay-YUT! GET SOME!" a loud Marine in the front bellows. He turns to his friend and snickers, "What a dumbass." His friends start laughing. I look closer at these guys in the dim light...they are all Sergeants. Oh great, THESE are my NCOs! I sigh a little and tighten my arms to my sides a little harder. The pressure keeps the warmth a little more. The wind whips around us, cutting straight through my cammies. Wish I had my sweater right now..."Oh fuck this, I'm not going next!" the loud Sgt proclaims, then falls out to the back of the line. His three buddies follow. Now I'm third from the front. I look down to the other side of the field. The Marine is running a weaving pattern from small cone to small cone. In the dim light, I see another line of Marines on the other side. Hmmm...when did they get there?The first one in that line drops to the ground. The running Marine goes up to him and picks him up under his arms and starts to drag him around the cones. When he reaches the halfway point, he stops, reaches down and picks up his casualty. He "fireman carries" the guy at a slow run back to our line. I hear him breathing hard as he reaches down and picks up two small ammo cans. The WM instructs him to start running down the course again. "Oh fuck this..." the Marine up front shakes his head and walks back to the end of the line. "Hang on dude, I'm coming with you! No way I'm fucking doing this next!" The second Marine leaves. Now I'm first in line. ...shit...fucking cowards....I shake my arms out, twist my neck a little, and take a deep breath in...The Marine arrives back to our line, panting. He drops the ammo cans. I feel my heart beating a little faster. Oh shit...my turn!"Next one, you're up!" the WM calls out to me. With a slow jog, I make my way to the first cone. "Now J-hook around the cone and start low crawling" she instructs. I drop to the ground and start crawling quickly. "OOH-RAH MOTIVATOR! GET SOME RAMBO!" The loud Sgt in my line yells. Yeah fuck you, you fucking coward...at least I'm out here you big pussy!"Now modified high crawl" the WM reminds. I comply and move forward. "On your feet. Now dodge and weave around the cones."I feel kinda silly as I run around the staggered cones. What the fuck is this supposed to test?! As I reach the end of course I see my casualty drop. Good, looks like a light-weight. I pick him up under his arms and start dragging him. "So far so good" my mind tells me. One cone, turn...pull, next cone, turn...pull....next cone...turn...pull..."Now Fireman's Carry." she says."Which shoulder you want me on?" my casualty asks. Mustering all the bravado I can, I smile at him and smack my right shoulder. "This one should do" I reach down and pull him up. "All comfy?""Yeah, let's do it!" he laughs back.I run back to my original line. The loud fuckers are laughing and having a good ol time. Hope they enjoy the fucking show."Okay, now grab your ammo cans-" she starts."ALRIGHT MARINES, TIME TO MOVE ON TO THE NEXT STATION!" a loud voice from nowhere yells. We start to mob toward the street. After a brief rest, we are told to run down to the end of the street, then run back. Very simple. "GO!"I take a slow pace. Immediately I notice how tired carrying that other dude has made me. Running is a little harder than I thought. Yet, somehow, I'm still in the middle of the pack...Reaching the turn-around point I'm greeted with the wind that was with us as it blasts me in the face. Shit! My nose starts to run a little. Gotta keep my pace!I start to pass everyone in front of me. Are you fucking kidding me?! It's just a half mile! We get to the end and I'm third out of about 20 Marines. They finish the run panting and gasping. One even stands off to the side and pukes! I take a deep breath and start to get pissed. We're Marines, a small-assed run like that shouldn't take them out!I keep my eyes focused on a distant point of light and turn my back to the wind. Goddammit, gotta keep warm, gotta keep strong. Looking to the left, I notice a Staff Sergeant chevron. YES! My fuggin Platoon Sergeant!I introduce myself to him and explain that I didn't have my name called in formation. He understood and wrote my name on the roster. Good, now I don't have to worry about being UA. A few minutes later, it was time to switch stations. The next station was four small ammo cans lined up next to each other. We lined up single file behind each one. I figured they'd all chicken out, so I picked a spot up front. The large Sgt. running the station gave a quick briefing on what to do. Grab the ammo can by it's sides, with the top handle facing away from you. Extend your arms out at around a 45 degree angle above your head, then lower it to below your chin. Since we were just being introduced to it, they only had us do twenty of them. I reached down and picked up the can. It was then I realized how cold and slippery my hands had become. They were numb. Quickly I pumped out all twenty. My arms screaming at me with each heft. The guy behind me counted, and as soon as I finished, I dropped them down and went to the staging area.As I waited for everyone to finish, my body realized that it was indeed cold...very, very cold. I looked up and saw the rain had switched to sleet. Goddammit it's cold... About twenty minutes later, they called the formation again. I stood in the front as our Platoon Sgt instructed us to fall out, go to our cars, and head back to the center. "Platoon AH-TEN-HOO!" We snapped to attention. "When I give you the command to fall out, fall out and head back! Platoon FALL OUT!" My body instantly relaxed and a shiver rocked my body. I made my way back to the car, opened the door and plopped down in my seat. I started the engine. The heater was on and a wave of heat passed over my face. I sat there and stared out my water covered windshield, trying to absorb what had just happened. A small smile crept across my face...Damn it feels good to be back!To be continued...
