Rumors of my (Literary) Demise are Greatly Exaggerated.

Wow. Just...wow. That's all I can say when I look at this thing. This blog was buried in my bookmarks, and has not been used in nearly two years. Two years! That's a LOT of undocumented time! Well, assuming any of you, my readers, care much about what's been going on since April, 2009. How to put it all in a nutshell? Well, I'll try.

Most importantly, what I hadn't told you all before, was that I met an absolutely sweet girl at school roughly the same time as my last post. I couldn't mention it before, since ours was...well, let's not call it "forbidden love" since that implies all sorts of negative things. More like "heavily frowned-upon love." And I didn't especially want to get my hopes up, given that I was going to be moving away in a few months' time. And I was thinking "Oh geez, long-distance relationships work out, I'm gonna be sooooo busy in Pensacola, etc." But she's just so darn sweet and wonderful, it didn't take us long to figure out we were meant for each other. It wasn't easy, but I can say from experience that long-distance relationships do indeed work, if you both want them to. Well, it was stressful at times, not getting to see each other for months at a time, but we visited whenever we could, and talked on the phone every single night, and this past summer, July 31, 2010, she made me the (WARNING: CLICHE AHEAD!) happiest guy in the world when she accepted my proposal. The proposal itself is an interesting story, perhaps for another time, involving a family ring, a castle, and an itty-bitty shoe made of pink glass. We've set a month (not a date, considering I don't know my deployment schedule quite yet), and neither of us can wait to start our life together in Hawaii.

Yes, Hawaii. Now, onto the other big changes in the last two years. Once I left for Pensacola, I expected to be there maybe four months. Instead, it was almost four months before I classed up for flight school. Not necessarily a bad deal, spending the summer in the Florida Panhandle doing essentially nothing and getting paid for it (well, I worked at the Aviation Museum restoring old planes while I waited). But once it started, it went quickly. I finished up there last April, having selected the mighty P-3C Orion as my aircraft of choice, so a move to Jacksonville was in the cards. What was not was the flooding in Tennessee which left our Bureau of Personnel (the guys who write the orders moving me from Point A to Point B) somewhat swamped. Another month and a half wait while they dried out, and I got here early last summer. No waiting around this time: straight into the syllabus. As of the end of last year, those shiny golden wings you see on this page became reality. That same day we all found out where we're going for our first assignment outside of a training command. Some people will remain here in Jacksonville, some go to the Pacific Northwest, and two of us are going to Kaneohe Bay, Hawaii. Not my first choice (it means being farther away from my wonderful fiancee for a while), but she should be able to join me out there once she's done with school roughly a year after I get there. In the meantime, there will be at least one six-month deployment for me somewhere in there, so it's not as bad as it could be. More long distance, but we've overcome that particular obstacle, as difficult as it still is.

And so here I sit, in my chair, sun shining through the window. It's still chilly outside, even here in Florida. But that is the last two years in a nutshell. I promise I'll try to get better at updating this thing -- if not with the regularity with which I did while still in school, then better than once every 21 months! The next post might be more along the philosophical maundering of my earlier work, but I can't promise that...I'm a bit out of practice it seems, and I must exercise the literary muscle a bit.

Thanks for reading, and hello again!

--Mr. NFO 2009

Crossroads

This was originally a Facebook note, hence the reference to tagging.
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Rather off-the-cuff note tonight. Not like I have any particular axe to grind; maybe it's just some stuff looking to be said.

The graduation countdown reads 46:11:24:50.

That is 10:00AM, May 22, 2009.

I'm planning on moving into my first apartment/condo/whatever on June 20. Sally and I are going house-hunting during intersessionals. Annapolis-(fly)->Jacksonville-(drive)->Pensacola-(drive)-> Jacksonville-(fly)->Annapolis in five or six days. That's going to be a whirlwind trip for sure and certain.

I sense I am at a cusp, an edge of understanding; a crossroads. Maybe it's just a side effect of realizing that after nearly 24 years, I'm about to finally get pulled from the nest. Actually, I'm getting pulled as well as jumping out on my own. Don't get me wrong: it's exciting as anything I've ever done before. But excitement goes hand-in-hand with a certain degree of...apprehension? Nervousness? Whatever you want to call it. I've not lived more than a few hours from home at any point in my life. I vaguely envy my friends here and elsewhere who went to school hundreds or thousands of miles from home; they already know what it is to not be able to go home for a weekend trip, to not have that safety net ready to go. They've had time to adjust to the reality of living essentially on their own, and are more ready for life after finishing the long grind.

Perhaps I'm just maudlin because I always get analytical and self-critical when I realize I'm approaching a significant point in my life. Always a degree of "Why didn't I give that a try?" or "Why the heck did I do that?" Most prevalent is the "What did I miss out on? There wasn't enough time to try everything!"

Well, I know I'm going to take a few days to get in some quality time before I get stuck in the mire of packing and moving.

What I really want to do is take a trip out to Yellowstone again, or at least spend some time outdoors. Get away from the hustle and bustle and hectic rush of life. Fly into Cody, Wyoming, spend a week driving around the park, swing down to Grand Tetons, stay in campsites, motels, whatever. If I thought the car would take it, I'd go for another road trip like I did with 996. Well, I guess that'd be a little more expensive than flying out there, what with gas and car upkeep and all. So, flying it is.

Even if I can't swing that, I'd like to take some sort of trip. I don't want to sit at home and brood the whole damn time. There'll be enough of that the last two weeks I'm home.

So, bottom line: anyone want to take a trip out west with me? I'm thinking May 26ish-June 5ish. I really hate traveling by myself; I won't go by myself, because 75% of the fun in traveling is sharing the experience with someone else. If that doesn't work, I might take another look at asking Jorj and Becky if I might visit them in Germany, but I don't speak the language, and I'd have to bring someone with me: they have to work, and I don't really want to impose on them in any case.

If you're wondering why I tagged you, don't think you'd want to go for a trip like this in a million years, and think you're a completely random tag, I tagged you because I'm looking for inputs from all parts of the spectrum. If you think you could make it, awesome. Let me know, but please don't bail at the last second. That would be most uncool. Regardless, let me know what you think? Words of encouragement are always accepted, as are cookies (even if they are only e-versions).

Thoughts?

Recent Events

I promise I've not forgotten this thing (or you, dear readers); I've just been swamped over the last few weeks. Recent midterms, planning for the future, all that fun stuff. I just found out today that I'll be reporting to Pensacola on June 26, so I'll be spending the summer in the sunny Florida Panhandle. That won't be "official" until Thursday night when all us aviators pick our report dates, but I found out in advance so I can make plans for housing. At least I know Sally should be going at the same time; her wedding is at the end of May, but we're going to try and meet a few days before the report date to find an apartment after her honeymoon.

Graduation is May 22 this year, so I've got a good month of uncharged leave between those dates. In all probability I'll likely spend much of the time packing, but I do want to take a trip somewhere...maybe out to Wyoming again, since I'll be spending the next year or so in flat Florida; I won't be anywhere near mountains again unless I get P-3s and end up in Washington State or Hawaii, and that would be after Pensacola and a tour at the FRS in Jacksonville... What can I say? I love my mountains. Seriously though, spring break (post-Boston for the St. Patrick's Day Parade) will be spent starting to get things wrapped up and ready for moving out--I gotta figure out which portions of my library I can stand to be parted from and donate (probably to Bethesda Naval Hospital or some such), which means boxing up the last 20+ years of my life. That's going to prove an interesting exercise.

Anyway, this isn't going to be an overly long post--just letting you all know what's been going on lately! And to put up the spring schedule...it's going to be busy starting next weekend, running almost every weekend until the end of the semester:

February 28: Spring PRT (oh, it's going to be cold!)
March 5-8: Pipes & Drums trip to RMC (Kingston, Ontario)
March 14-16: Pipes & Drums trip to Boston (marching in the St. Patrick's Day Parade)
March 28-29: Protestant Choir trip to Busch Gardens/Newport News
April 3-5: Pipes & Drums trip to NYC (marching in the Tartan Day Parade)
April 10: Rolling Thunder washing of the Vietnam Wall and other Memorials
April 17: Pipes & Drums Spring Concert
April 25-26: Camping trip to Lake Anna (my first obligation-free weekend!)
May 22: Graduation
June 20ish: Move to Pensacola, find an apartment, get ready to leave childhood behind for good
June 26: Let the Real World commence!

Beyond June 26 the future is hazy, but one thing is for certain: it's not going to be boring. So long for now!

--Mr. NFO 2009

WWYD?

Yes everyone, it's been a while since I've posted. My apologies for that. It's my last semester of school, and who knew 15 credits would be this much work? Fifteen is the minimum here, and it's not like I'm taking any enormously hard classes compared to some of the others (EE, thermo, physics, etc.). I think I just managed to get two of the history profs who just love to assign ridiculous amounts of reading. Between that, the battalion staff position, and the band, it's busy busy busy. Or maybe it's because I'm a second-semester senior who just wants out. And here's me considering taking on IFS (Introductory Flight Screening...basically the prerequisite for heading down to flight school this summer) so I don't have to stick around after graduation. I went to lunch with the two people I'm planning on rooming with down in Pensacola, so we could try to hammer out what details we could until orders come down in February. We're looking to rent a small condo close to the base. Sally and I can cook, and Reeve has said he won't mind cleaning; I think we'll be well set up for the few weeks we're there. Apparently we'll only be in Pensacola for 15 weeks if we get the platform we want -- otherwise it's only 30 weeks or so (+/- depending on the flight schedule).

Well, that's it for the school update for this post. I wish I could say I had a witty or deep observation, but I'd be lying to you. Honestly, there's not a whole lot going on at the moment that's worth posting about: nothing deeply personal has happened since the incident in December when my heart was used as a scratching post for someone who chose to lead me on, willfully ignorant of the effect she was having on me. That was fun. Now she's started talking to me again, which is interesting in and of itself: she knows what she did, and got angry because she didn't think she'd done anything. If anything, it was both of us, but that's a separate discussion.

Now, I'm just kind of coasting: I'll be out of this area within six months or so, so part of me wants to just say "There's no point in trying to start something, since we both know it'll end bittersweet at best, bitter at worst." That's the part of me that knows I'm not a frivolous person, and don't start something lightly just for the sake of convenience. Then there's the part of me that's the hopeless romantic (and it's a rather sizeable portion, believe you me) that just wants to throw caution to the winds and damn the consequences.

Typical Cancer, that's me. Very home-bodied and romantic. Well, if you put any credit in that sort of thing.

Before I go, I'm just going to ask a question of you, my readers. But first, I'm going to toss something out there about myself: I know I want a family, and I know I could make a damn good husband and father (I also know I'd be the one scaring the hell out of a daughter's prospective boyfriend, but that's more of a humorous aside than anything else). Suburban housing might be all right while I'm in the service (not much choice otherwise), but at some point in life I'd like to live out in the country. Preferably somewhere with mountains. The Shenandoah Valley would be nice (since I do so love Virginia) but so would the Wyoming/Idaho/Montana area. Every time I go out to that area it just feels right. This is coming from someone who grew up in the ever-expanding sprawl of DC. Occasional visits to places like New York and Philly are nice, but I am not a city person.

I've been told that I'm one of the odd ones for knowing what I want out of life. Granted, it's the simple things, but I've never been a complicated person. What you see is what you get. I like to think it's a nice change of pace from the modern world, when everyone wants to have their cake and eat it too; they get caught up in the trappings of today's high-speed society and forget what should be most important: basic values like love (real love, not the junk that covers the popular yellow journalism rags you see at supermarket checkout lines), family, respect, and the worth of a hard day's work. To most, that's old-fashioned; to me, it's ideal.

So I'm going to ask you, my readers: what do you want out of life? Ask yourselves, ask your friends, ask a stranger sitting next to you on the bus. Don't worry if you don't know. You're all about the same age as me, and I already know I'm the anomaly when it comes to this. Far be it from me to tell you how to live your lives; that's yours and yours alone, especially in these, your prime years.

What Would You Do?

--Mr. NFO 2009

(comment if you like; I love hearing from you guys)

Beauty and the Beholder

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." A common enough phrase; one that implies that each person has their own standards, and also implies (albeit much more subtly) that some people who are considered unattractive can be found "beautiful" by the right person. But what is "beauty" but a set of arbitrary standards set by society? In the U.S. and most Western European nations, those standards are set by the media (movies, TV, music stars, advertisements, etc.) for everyone else to follow. So, the "beholder" and the "beauty" are still subjected to societal norms, which largely direct their own opinions (at least in the developed world).

So, beauty is not truly in the eye of the beholder, but in the eye of society. The beholder has to be able to see beyond what society tells them to see, else he or she is likely in for a very rude surprise--and it can be very difficult to learn how, depending on just how inundated a person is with examples of what society tells them they should seek. As for a "beauty," that person must be able to believe in themselves, because not everyone can measure up to society's standards, and without society's approval, life can be a whole lot more difficult. Self-confidence (and a certain degree of empathy for others) go a long way to proving my favorite aphorism: "beauty can be only skin deep." Mere societal beauty can get by with being as shallow as a rain puddle, but it's the depth that counts. Cheerful thought isn't it?
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That was the result of me philosophizing at the end of last semester instead of studying for my thermodynamics final. Maybe I was just a bit bitter at recent events...it's very possible (hence the "rude surprise"), but I find that's when I'm at my best for introspection. I really don't want to start out the new year that way, so this is me reminding myself of a fact I was sort of cognizant of before last month, but never really experienced for myself until then.

Until next time, friends!

--Mr. NFO 2009

Shield and Sword

Well, I promised a new post, so here it is. It's not exactly a happy one, but it's something that's in the back of the mind of everyone who serves in the military (or it should be).
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I was watching a movie a few days ago, one I hadn't seen in a while. Anyone ever seen the original Planet of the Apes? The one with Charlton Heston? Well, if you haven't, one of the characters has a few good lines that speak to human nature. The movie was made back during the height of the Cold War (1968), so violence-bashing was a popular Hollywood theme. Here's one of the good ones:

"You are right, I have always known about man. From the evidence, I believe his wisdom must walk hand and hand with his idiocy. His emotions must rule his brain. He must be a warlike creature who gives battle to everything around him, even himself."

Now, given my profession of choice -- well, the profession I will enter in a few months, once I graduate -- people might find my discomfort with this observation a bit odd. Those who know me know that I don't mind a bit of violence here and there: I don't have a problem with putting terrorists in the ground where they belong, for example, and I do lack a certain degree of patience with diplomacy. I'll probably be one of those dads who teaches his kids to shoot when they're still young, because it's a fun sport (and teaching them young should instill in them a proper respect for life, not to mention safety). But I do notice a disturbing violent trend in our species. Just look at recent events: school shootings caused by bullying; drive-bys in cities related to gang warfare; just this week a man in California shot up a Christmas party over a divorce, then set the house on fire.

What is it with our species that drives us to inflict pain on those around us? In less than 200 years we (at least in this country) have gone from a simplistic, honorable society with black powder rifles to self-centered affluence, with drugs, missiles, and nuclear warheads. Seriously, for all the progress we've made in science and medicine, an equal amount (if not more) has been made in efficient ways of killing other people. In fact, many advances in medicine evolved from military research: where better to practice medical procedures and treatments than a battlefield?

Around my neck I wear a medallion that I had made several years ago, when I decided to join the military. On one side is St. Michael, the patron saint of soldiers. On the other side is a thistle, which symbolizes (among other things) protection. On one side is a reminder of what I do (war); on the other is a reminder of why I do it. I have worn this medallion every single day for the last eight years to remind me of the nature of the military. We are part of a service that is meant to kill people and break things. But at the same time, we are no regime protection force, meant to keep the current leaders in power. Nor is our primary mission to conquer other countries -- whatever the idiots at MoveOn.org might say: we can do that, but we don't like to, because it just makes us look like bullies.

Speaking from my point of view, and from what I've observed, military people generally don't like going to war, but we see it as a necessary evil. We don't like it because we're the ones out there getting killed while soft-handed (and -minded) people who've never been threatened by anything more menacing than a rabid squirrel debate on the morality of war and question our conduct. Oh sure, they'll say they "support the troops," but to many who use that phrase, it's nothing more than lip service while they try to get their agendas advanced and themselves promoted to better positions of personal power. We go because we know what's out there, and we know that there are things out there far more terrible than crazy squirrels. We go because we know somebody has to do it; we go because somebody has to be the shield and sword both.

I think that's at the heart of why people feel the way they do about people in uniform: people as a whole have a deep-rooted desire for security and safety. To the common person, a man (or woman) in uniform represents the shield that keeps them safe, and engenders feelings of trust found in few other places (to say nothing of the way we comport ourselves: respect is so different between the military and civilian worlds). It's not for nothing that the military holds itself to higher standards than most civilians: we know that to slip or slack might mean someone gets killed on down the line. We tolerate far fewer mistakes because a mistake (whether it be drug use or negligence) not corrected may (due to an underlying character fault) translate into something of far greater import later on. There are reasons the military has been #1 for the "Whom do you trust the most" question on several nation-wide polls, and that's a big part of it.

That said, I don't have a huge problem with being that shield and sword, but it makes a normal family life difficult. Believe me, I do want a family, but the strain military life puts on one (between the moving, the odd hours, and that little thing about possible death in the line of duty) makes things hard to even begin, because everyone hears the stories. But I've been repeatedly told that there is someone out there for me -- she must be out there right now -- so I don't give up hope, though I take many an arrow to the heart in the meantime. And in that meantime, I feel happy knowing that I am part of the shield and sword that allows others to find that happiness.

Well, this seems a bit far from where I started, but the conclusion I draw from this is thus: mankind is warlike and is the only species on the planet that actively searches for new ways to kill itself. However, there is also great capacity for love and good. Between those two extremes there are a few who know the dangers and potential of each side, and seek to use as much as necessary from either side to keep the two separate.

Those few are the military, the police, and others who actively defend the general populace from the evil present in the world. Most of us don't eagerly await the next chance to go out and deal death in pursuit of personal gain: because we understand the value of life, which is why we've chosen to preserve it as much as we can. Seeing the smiles on the faces of our friends and families, as well as those we help abroad is enough for us. So thank you to those who truly do support the troops, and know that the phrase is not merely something to fill an empty speech with.
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Thoughts? I warned you this would be a deep post, and not exactly happy. I swear I'm not writing this as a means to garner sympathy or points for myself. This is what I truly believe. If you choose to believe me or not, that's up to you.

--Mr. NFO 2009

Sending Holiday Cheer

Merry Christmas to all!

That said, please remember those who are spending this Christmas far from home and loved ones (I know I'm going to be in that situation relatively soon): at sea, overseas, and otherwise deployed, allowing you to enjoy your holidays with your family; they are not so lucky, but they're an all-volunteer force. Please keep them in mind as you go about your day.

Short post again, because it's time to head for my aunt's (she's the only one with a house big enough for the whole family). I've got a good topic for the next post though, I promise. Today just isn't the day for it.

Happy holidays again!

--Mr. NFO 2009