Asshats Among Us

A friend from high school recently regurgitated on Facebook some xenophobic conservative drivel about illegal immigrants and I thought that rather than respond to it via mini-blog (This just in: Illegal immigrants are being vilified- Sadness consumes me. That is all) I would talk about it here, where the air isn’t so stuffy. Here’s the post in total, you may have already seen its like elsewhere:

“You pass the North Korean border illegally you get 12 yrs. hard labor, you pass the Afghan border illegally you get shot, you pass the American border illegally you get a job, driver’s license, allowance for a place to live, health care, education, billions of dollars spent so you can read a document. We carry passports in other countries or face jail time.- Repost this if you agree...”

Ug. Its difficult to know where to start. We’ll begin with a hypothetical situation:

You are busy. You know you need to mow your lawn but you just can’t find time in the week to do it. Your neighbor offers to mow it for you for a pittance. He does a pretty good job and you are paying him WAY less than you would for a landscaping service. Good deal, right? He cuts his hand while trimming your hedge so you offer him a band aid. You are being good neighbors, ja?

One day, as you wave to him from your porch you notice that he’s a little green around the gills.

“Got that bug that’s been goin’ around, neighbor?”

He nods.

“Yeah, the whole neighborhood’s gettin’ it at some point, its nasty.”

You and your family make up a nice batch of your world-famous homemade chicken noodle soup and bring it over with a half a bottle of Dimetap. You know, for his kids.

The next day you find your neighbor bright-eyed and a-mowing your lawn with verve.

Over the course of your friendship it is revealed that your friend cannot read or write in your language. He isn’t illiterate although when it comes to food packaging labels and stereo instructions he may as well be. This isn’t really surprising, heck; you spent three years in Germany and only had the most basic understanding of the language. In exchange for learning about his culture, you offer to help him learn how to read.

As a result, your neighbor is able to advise you on how to better set your sprinkler system to get healthier grass and to use less water. Nice.

He’s got some crappy cousins, but everyone has got some family members they don’t like, right? Come to think of it, you can’t swing a pool noodle at your family reunions without hitting a racist or an alcoholic or a glutton or a hypocrite or that pervy uncle that everyone hopes can’t make it this year. You accept them for who they are but you still have to remind them not to park on the lawn, its just too nice. It’s the same with your neighbor’s family: there are some you get along with and some you don’t.

If this all seems a bit simplistic, its because it really, really is. Charity doesn’t necessarily mean a free ride and not all charity comes from a place of compassion. Sometimes its born from pragmatism but often it’s a happy by-product of self interest.

I also take exception to the concept of economic protectionism. Now, don’t get me wrong, higher level economics makes my head spin but the basics seem easy enough to grasp. When you make money here selling goods and services and then spend that money here, it helps our economy by enabling others to make money and then spend it. Not all of it is going into a sock under the mattress nor is the great majority of it being sent to foreign economies. The part that is going into a foreign economy is being used for the same things it gets used for here: goods and services and living essentials. Those things are still needed no matter where the money comes from. Here are a few examples:

We cut foreign aid to the Middle East and instead of building schools and universities, they started building madrassas.

We cut aid to South America and farmers started planting poppy fields instead of the soy, corn and cotton.

After the fall of the Soviet Union, the resulting economic crisis created a breeding ground for drug cartels, slave traders and gangsters.

Contrast this with the Marshall Plan, enacted to help with European post-war recovery after WWII. It called for $13 billion in 1948 (roughly the equivalent of $119 billion in today’s money) on top of the roughly $12 billion we had already spent since the end of the war. It helped to kick-start the western European economy, but, more importantly, it gave us stable trading partners, ushered in an unprecedented era of U.S. prosperity and allowed us focus on the emerging Warsaw Pact.

People complained about Japan’s electronics and automobile industries in the 80’s and, more recently, India’s tech and biomedical industries. I swear I never understood why. Industrial competition is good for the consumer because it forces the industries to provide the same level of product for less than their competitors. It forces its competitors to innovate and improve its products in order to remain viable.

Better products at cheaper prices.

Contrast that with how industrial protectionism affected the U.S. auto industry: Virtually stagnant for 30 years, protected under the umbrella of protectionism while the rest of the world continued to innovate creating safer, more affordable, longer lasting cars. What did we get from Germany and Japan? The Passat and the Camry, two of the highest rated mid-level cars in the world. What did we get from Detroit? The Hummer H3 and the Pontiac Aztek, one vehicle aimed at the very well-off and another that rivals the AMC Gremlin in overall crappiness and both of them now discontinued.

There was an enormous uproar after Dell moved the majority of its tech support to India after the fallout of the Y2K debacle. This helped Dell cut costs which allowed them to save jobs here in the U.S., remain competitive in the volatile world of home computing and helped them to buy the specialty computer company Alienware.

Better products at cheaper prices.

Xenophobic protectionism hurts consumers and industries alike.

Trading partners with stable economies increases wealth and lowers prices.

Food, clothing, healthcare, education, gas, cars, electronics and recreation are all cheaper when your trading partner has a thriving, stable economy.

And last but not least, prosperity stops wars. When your neighbor is content and healthy, he doesn’t try to steal from you that which he cannot afford to buy. When your neighbor is happy and educated, he doesn’t turn to the loud, persuasive lunatic to help him feed his family.

Better products at cheaper prices AND increased personal and national security.

While we talk about jobs, which jobs are supposedly being stolen by the illegal immigrants? I’m what you would call a ‘low-level professional’, like many of you I have some post-high school education and training.

With that in mind, here are some of the jobs I have worked in my life:

I’ve worked the fruit fields with my immigrant mother.

I’ve worked at McDonalds.

I’ve sold specialty electronics to American servicemen in Europe.

I’ve moved furniture and then I’ve repaired furniture.

I’ve repaired computers for a major computer company.

I’ve driven a municipal bus route.

I’ve been a soldier, an EMT and a PTA (all at once, lol) and now I’m advancing my medical education in preparation for PA school.

My question is this: Which of these jobs do you think an illegal immigrant would compete with me for?

So to all of you that are frustrated and find yourselves being persuaded by the current nationalist mania, please-please remember that very, very few of us are actually native to this great country. The quote doesn't read "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free... so long as they look, sound and talk like us... unless, of course, they can hit a baseball really far." Our love of freedom and our cultural diversities are the two things that set us apart from the rest of the world. If that doesn’t give you a moments pause then consider this: The more healthy, intelligent, educated people we have working on our actual problems (i.e. disease, poverty, security, social inequity, etc.), the faster we will find solutions for them.

The Things We Choose To Care About

An incredible thing has happened recently – what my good chum Dave Bowman would describe as, "Something Wonderful". Every year about this time (The Ides of March) I am reminded of my long lost brother. This invariably leads to thoughts of his mother (who was in every way another mother to me) and his little sister. When the wifey and I last saw them, they were living in the old neighborhood in Olivehurst, CA and seemed to be as happy as could be expected. My wife and I saw them briefly in early 1998 during a layover between GE and TX. Half an hour later, we packed up our things, gave our hugs and our goodbyes and then made our way back across the country to see what awaited us at Ft. Hood. My wife gave birth mere weeks after our arrival and so began another chapter in our lives.

And that was it.

The entire span of my children's lives and they never saw or heard about some of the most important people in my background.

I have no excuse- I am terrible at keeping in touch. My affections stay fresh and genuine and yet it's far too easy for me to simply take for granted that they will always be there, constant and yet just out of eyeshot. I was reminded earlier this week that is not always the case.

I found that in 2001 my friend's mother died. My friend was 27 and his sister was only as old as my oldest son is today. There is literally nothing in my life's experience that can help me imagine what it was like for them.

This year as I went on my annual hunt to find my brother, I got a hit on a social networking site- not my brother but a young woman in her freshman year at a state university. I was terribly excited and yet wary of coming off as some sort of online weirdo- I think we can all agree that that full-grown men shouldn't chat up 19 year old strangers as a matter of course… Call me old-fashioned but it seems like one of those general rules that fall in the 'no-brainer' category, especially in this day and age.

So, after some deliberation, I wrote to this person. And she wrote back! She is indeed my friend's sister, my surrogate mother's daughter and she seems happy and outgoing and quirky and well-adjusted and she remembered me! Hell, she remembered my wife whom she met perhaps four times!

Now, the way I form bonds has been brought into question recently by the behavior of some of my friends who are going through their own ordeal at the moment. Just as an example, I don't think you can live in close quarters with someone without them becoming a part of you forever. I think this is especially true with children- I don't think you can learn and grow and share with someone without them taking up residence in your heart. It's never occurred to me before last week that I could be unusual in this respect.

As for this young woman, I was there when she took her first steps. I was there when she nearly bit her tongue in half after falling off a chair. I lived with her and watched over her while her mother ran errands.

I've said before that my affections do not require anything from the people I care for. It's nice, don't get me wrong but my feelings don't require validation or even reciprocation. I could be perfectly happy knowing that a person is doing well so long as they were happy.

Luckily for me, she seems genuinely excited about knowing someone who adored her mother and has expressed interest in meeting my wife and I to talk.

I've also said before that I believe the Cosmos is about balance. Well, mostly about balance- there's also a large part of my belief system that involves Alanis Morissette "irony" and Monty Python-esque humor which tends to favor synchronicity over coincidence. Here's an example:

I share my birthday with two other people in my life- a previous girlfriend and my Evil Twin, There4. One of the places we would frequent (my twin and I) was a shake joint called Rick's Cabaret in San Antonio while we were stationed at Ft. Sam. My only souvenirs from this time are a lasting friendship with one of the performers and her husband, a lingering respect for the voraciousness of some of the dancers and a small matchbox with the establishment's logo on it.

Days before my birthday I was contacted by my unit and instructed to be prepared to deploy on a possible mission to Chile. While going through my gear on my birthday, I happened to come across the matchbox (strangely bereft of burnable matches… why would anyone keep that?) and it was such a day-brightener that I felt I had to share it with my twin to our mutual pleasure on our special day.

Honestly, what were the chances that I would have reason to go through my kit at all, much less have a tiny, unlikely keepsake pop out that reminds me of a place I used to share with someone whose birthday it also was?

Alright, I'll concede that it isn't Hurley-winning-the-lotto-with-the-mysterious-numbers-on-"Lost" unusual but it was interesting and significant to me nonetheless.

Here's another:

The day before I found this young lady on the internets, I watched the trailer for the Tron sequel coming this December. This led to fan-boy nostalgia which led to watching the original Tron the next day. Suddenly I was 11 years old and sitting on my friend Alan's living room floor, watching a VHS copy. I could smell his mother cooking in the kitchen and I could hear his father sitting in an armchair behind us, reading the paper. That afternoon I found, wrote and heard back from his sister- after years of trying.

I cannot express how much this pleases me=) I don't know how this is a-gonna turn out but I'm hopeful. Family is the most important thing in my world and the people I love are all my family by default.

Words’ Worth

Last night was the Academy Awards and if you paid any attention at all, you found that Kathryn Bigelow's "The Hurt Locker" was the winner for best picture. I enjoyed THL and I appreciate any attempt to raise awareness of our ongoing war(s) on a mainstream/personal level but Best Picture?

Now, I'm a movie buff so movies with big, glaring holes stand out to me and I'm a soldier so military inaccuracies also stand out to me and this one had its share of both. I'm not talking about little nit-picky things like patches and awards or whether unit X was in theater between such and such dates: I'm interested in these things but they don't color my enjoyment of a story. I'm talking about cliché plot devices and dramatic elements writers and film makers use to move along a story, seemingly without thought to the simultaneous eye-rolling going on in the movie-plex. Just as an example, my wife and I went to see the remake of "The Crazies" recently and were pleasantly surprised by its clever writing, austere visual style and its heavy emphasis on paranoia (rather than gore), especially in the critical third act. Only once did sloppy writing stand out enough to jar my wife and I out of our immersion and it was a time-honored horror movie doozy, the whole "Wait here, I'll be right back" bit.

/sigh. And they were doing so well up till that point. It was as if the creators/storytellers wanted to throw an extra helping of tension into the last reel and simply couldn't come up with a plausible way to separate the two surviving characters and so they dug into the big book of clichés and drew up that one, a gimmick that's so tired and hackneyed that its been lampooned famously by other genre movies.

Needless to say, that one little problem didn't at all ruin the movie for me but it was glaring enough to be picked up on by nearly the entire audience (especially the VFH kids behind us, lol).

The same was true for THL. Military-centric errors/lapses abound along with more than a few conventional ones. Did they further the story? Sure, each and every one. Did they ruin my enjoyment? Nah, overall I gave it a B. Was it a no-holds-barred, adrenalin-fueled thrill ride? Nope. Was it the most innovative, entertaining piece of storytelling released in '09 (which is what I assume the criteria are for Best Pic)? No.

What it did (and it does this admirably) was to assuage America's guilt over largely ignoring the ongoing conflict by raising awareness in a non-threatening way. Horrors on CNN are gauche and voyeuristic; horrors on celluloid (even ones portrayed in mediocre fashion) are interesting and laudable.

The thing is, you don't need to resort to poor storytelling and predictable plot devices to accomplish either of these two goals. Pick up a copy of "They Fought for Each Other" by Kelly Kennedy if you require proof. Or wait for it to filmed, I'd bet a dollar it's already been optioned- hopefully it'll be treated with the same respect "Band of Brothers" got.

That was really my only beef with the Oscars. I find the whole process interminably boring but I like it when people are honored for their hard work.

Here's one that was tragically overlooked:

Award for Best Golden Globes: Christina Hendricks.

Holy cow, that woman can fill out a gown.

Breathing Out So You Can Breathe Me In

For today’s Final Jeopardy answer:

It is this phenomenon that that is the common link between these 3 things:

-Eureka, CA’s black-sand beaches in spring,
-January in Ft. Sill, OK,
-Showers in the Taylor household while the water heater is broken.


The question is, of course, “What is shrinkage?”

We would have also accepted, “What are things that sounded like a good idea at the time” and “What are some examples of The Universe’s perverse sense of humor”.

Misnomer

Happy Father’s Day to all my hypothetical chums who happen to be fathers, daddies, poppies, steps, gramps, pa- whatever you are called by the children you do right by.

For myself, its more of a celebration of family than anything else- sure, there’s a-gonna be beer and chlorine and yummy food, but also community, good-will happiness enough to go around=) Stay safe and make sure they know you love em… even if they are knuckle-heads.

The Things We Choose To Care About

Seriously, thank God for internet nerds with too much time on their hands. This fan-made trailer goes under the 'awesome' heading for a variety of reasons, not the least of which being it's ability to make me smile on an otherwise bleak day.

Thank you Trav, it's good to hear from you=)

My good chum Trav recently shared an awesome little ditty by Norm Sherman detailing the dangers of industrial waste, atomic testing and the Japanese monster movie sub-culture. The song is called "Radioactive Runaways" and its definitely worth checking out. Very clever lyrics and expert guitar craft combine to tell a humorous tale and iff'n it brightens your day a bit (as it did mine) be sure to send both the artist and Trav a little good ju-ju in way of thanks.

Listening to a song about a monster battle royal in the streets of Tokyo caused me to reflect on all the interesting and excellent music I have been exposed to in the past few years. This, in turn, reminded me of another pastime of mine- sort of a musical hobby I have where I am constantly on the look out for covers, the acoustic guitar variety in particular. Here is a small sample:

I begin with this young lady because the combination of her talent, her chosen surroundings and the look on her face give the impression that she is expressing actual sentiment rather than singing simply for the sake of hearing herself which, to me, is always worth a few extra points. Regardless of whether my interpretation of her 'tude is correct, it pleases and comforts me to share this little bit with the few people in my life who I know enjoy this song. Btw, this young lady's sobriquet is thebathroomgirl and she has quite a few covers and original pieces on her site... they are all worth investigating.

Hey Ya -covered by Obadiah Parker. I recently heard Ted's rendition of this cover on an episode of 'Scrubs' and while I always enjoy Sam Lloyd's musical stylings, Matt Weddle's version is still my fav.

Flagpole Sitta -covered by Julia Nunes. I was introduced to this artist as my friend Brian's "Ukulele-playing girlfrend who lives in the internets".

The Climb -covered by Tiffyiffyiffy. The other night Blonde-girl and Angry-girl were both waxing rhapsodic about a Miley Cyrus song they had heard so when I noticed that one had been covered (and greatly appreciated) I thought I would give it a shot. While I enjoy this cover, I have yet to hear the original and it's not likely I will unless something extrordinary occurs.

3AM -covered by Mike McBee. While I've never been a big fan of Matchbox20, I find myself really enjoying this young man's soulful rendition.

Brothers in Arms -covered by MrLoupiot. Although his ability to sing is far outweighed by his impressive guitar craft I still found myself listening to this cover over and over. It serves as a potent (and painful) reminder of the limitations laid upon me by The Cosmos and my own filthy, clumsy human hands.

Fast Car Acoustic Guitar Lesson -brought to you by Handsome Alvin. The lesson is so comprehensive and yet easily followed it's now distracting me from my current project.

*To Rabbit: I hope you noticed that 3 of the 7 artists listed here are female.

-and-

*To There4: I hope you noticed that 3 of the 7 artists listed here are aZn.

-and-

*To Tanner: Thank you for introducing me to James Blunt. You shipped out almost immediately after we graduated from whiskey w/10thMTN and that was the last I have heard of you. Wherever you are, battle, I hope you are well.

Me versus The Cosmos

You are The Tower

Ambition, fighting, war, courage. Destruction, danger, fall, ruin.

The Tower represents war, destruction, but also spiritual renewal. Plans are disrupted. Your views and ideas will change as a result.

The Tower is a card about war, a war between the structures of lies and the lightning flash of truth. The Tower stands for "false concepts and institutions that we take for real." You have been shaken up; blinded by a shocking revelation. It sometimes takes that to see a truth that one refuses to see. Or to bring down beliefs that are so well constructed. What's most important to remember is that the tearing down of this structure, however painful, makes room for something new to be built.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

*you know, I don't think I've gotten a good one of these yet=) I looked through the source code and discovered that there are indeed 'good' ones (nicer ones, anyways) lurking in the possible results... I had a similar experience in my miscreant youth when a Magic 8-Ball stubbornly refused to tell me anything other than "It is uncertain" and "Ask again later".

Summer Of Fun

Memorial Day is here! It’s the official beginning of the summer-fun season replete with sunshine, chlorine, bonfire/grill antics and movies. Today is also the day we choose to celebrate my Sister’s b-day with some chicken-y goodness and corn on the cob.

At some point today we will also go check out the latest Terminator movie complete with CGI-Arnold. Now, I’ve read the script, read the reviews and interviews and after some reflection I’ve decided that I am still optimistic about this effort by nouveau artist McG. (ug, I know, I know…) Despite the unevenness of his previous works (apparently he had some difficulty controlling Bill Murray’s ego on the set of Charlie’s Angels… seriously? Bill Murray’s ego?) I realized that no matter who was involved, I really only have simple needs when it comes genre films with only a few exceptions.

As an example: Terminator Salvation.
Q. Does it have a Terminator in it?
A. Yes.
Q. Does said Terminator run around doing Terminator things? I.e. Blowing shit up, showing bits of endoskeleton, being a nigh-unstoppable killing machine? You know, being Terminator-esque?
A. Yes.

This guy = mollified.

This dirt-simple equation works (for me) for nearly everything in the related fields.

Another example: Any Zombie Movie.
Q. Zombies in the flick?
A. Check.

Now I know, zombie flicks are supposed to be about biting (lol) social commentary but I really enjoy them for their survival horror aspect and as long as there are infected/effected MoB’s rolling around while peeps are trying to, er… survive, then I’m good.

I find that this easily digestible philosophy works rather well in many other aspects of my life:

Yet another example: My Friends.
Q. Me like you?
A. Check.

The result being I go outta’ my way to spend time with you. Everything else seems like minor details like the difference between adding rosemary or saffron to the risotto.

*Risotto, btw, is NOT on today’s menu, as much as I enjoy it. Today we will be serving Grilled Chicken n’ 40 cloves, grilled white corn w/ garlic-butter dressing, deviled-egg potato salad and melon. Gawd, I can already smell the chicken=)

Hopefully today will bring it’s own pleasant surprises rather than the couple unpleasant ones that have already been cropped up. If not, then I shall remain optimistic in any case as there is always next Memorial Day, right?

Candy is Delicious

/sigh... there's NEVER any candy.

Sex & The Male Mind

As I am terribly bored and currently have no one to torture here in the clinic, I thought that I would write my next posting for you, my hypothetical chum.

It occurred to me that I have never detailed my experiences with There4 and his favorite shake-joint. I shall correct this at once.

Now, you wouldn’t know it to look at him but There4 is fairly experienced at the whole strip-bar culture thing whereas I have only gone just a few times. (And have never been all that impressed, btw) By day, he is a mild-mannered Asian guy with a penchant for Warhampster, but, following him into this particular establishment you will witness a startling transformation. When he rolls into the joint, he does so in true rock-star fashion, my hand to God. All the employees know him by his strip-club pseudonym and he is immediately escorted to his favorite spot… by the stage, of course. The waitress hurries over and, just as often as not, the dancers will buy him drinks.

-just an aside here: as you may or may not know, none of the dancers or wait staff use their real names when introducing themselves. Its always a stage name in order to throw off the creeps and weirdoes that frequent those places. In response to this, I decided that I (and everyone that came with me) should not only have a stage name themselves but also an entire back story ready to go at a moments notice. For example: My name was ‘Gunnar Johansen’ (sEn, not sOn, mind you) from Queensland, Australia, mate. Yeah. My accent, while far from perfect (I would drift between a Monty Python ‘G’day, Bruce’ aussie accent to a decidedly Mike Myers-esque Scottish brogue) was in the very least fluid enough to keep up all night. That wasn’t the hard part… I’ll get to the hard (heh) part in just a moment.

The evening begins with scantily-clad girls sidling up to the table and sitting on a random lap. I should state that there were several ladies here that Ther4 was on a more-than-friendly basis with and whoever wasn’t dancing or schmoozing some poor Joe would be planted at the table.

Now, just for clarification, let me say this: Some of the awful stereotypes you have heard about strippers are true, although there were a couple… say ‘Autumn’ for example, that turned out to be real sweethearts and with whom I now have a lasting friendship. It was ‘Autumn’ btw that after she started dating a friend of mine and realizing my discomfort with her nakedness (naked-ity?), delighted in torturing me with her presence. Nude. In a very, very not-clothed way. She would sit on my lap (something she had never done until she recognized my discomfort) and ask for advice on various musculo-skeletal issues, the answers to which would often require a ‘hands-on’ explanation. Now, anyone who knows anything about what I do for the army knows that it is ALL very hands-on, all very physical. You have to be comfortable with your personal space in order to do anything effectively in PT. Needless to say, there was a lot of pantomime involved, all of it very ‘hands-above-the-table’, if you will.

-Here’s a great question that I never thought I would have to ask: Have any of you men out there ever tried to keep an erection from happening for a prolonged period of time? Like, for over an hour? Its sort of the erectile equivalent of an endurance sport. Like soccer, really.

On one particular occasion (the very last time I went, as a matter of fact) I got to witness what can only be described as a ‘stripper feeding frenzy’. I was broke from having to buy a Passat and my good chum There4 was flush and he wanted to go ‘make it rain’ but didn’t want to go alone. So there I was with There4 buying my drinks (and a bunch of drinks for the ladies too) when I realized there was hardly anyone in the club with us. The ladies must have noticed this as well as they all began to congregate around our table. I looked up and There4 was nowhere to be found. He had ambled off to chat up a bartender he liked leaving me, penniless, at the mercy of voracious strippers.

-It should be noted here that there are rules for going to strip club, the first of which I have already mentioned. There second is this: if you enjoy the naked-osity of the ladies dancing (or whatever) then you MUST pay. Normally, it works like this- If you are looking up at the stage and the dancer makes eye contact with you, you are then obligated to approach the stage and show your appreciation by way of dollar bills. You see? Looking at the stage means you were enjoying the show, enjoying the show means you have to pay. The trick is to enjoy the show WITHOUT making eye contact with the dancer, that is, unless you WANT to go up and tip her and perhaps get a little extra for your efforts. It should also be noted here that while some of the dancers were friends of ours (and sweetie-pies to boot) none of the nice ones were working there that night. Yikes.

I gently extricated myself from the gyrating horde and found my wayward friend who, after a bit of explaining, convinced me that I needed to play the ‘bad guy’ and rescue him from the women who were circling his table by proclaiming that I needed him to take me back to the bay as I had yadda yadda yadda to do in the morning. The plan went off without a hitch until I proclaimed that he needed to take me back to the bay in front of the ladies.

In retrospect, I am able to visualize the scene and describe it like this: It was like a shot out of a Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom episode where the female lions had already injured the prey and were taking turns running it down. The gazelle’s only chance is to reach the safety of the river bank but the water’s edge is soooo far away and the lionesses are fast and hungry.

In the end, the leader (the ALPHA-stripper, if you will) bartered a settlement in which we would be allowed to leave but only after we had tipped every woman at the table, the rationale being that we saw them all nekkid and therefore owed them for the service. Thankfully There4 stepped up and paid my portion as well as his own as I was totally prepared to trip him as I ran out of the place, leaving him to the lionesses and humping it back to the bay.

It shouldn’t be a wonder to you, dear reader, why I didn’t go back. The good news is that I got to see my dear friend ‘Autumn’ one last time before we headed north. Karaoke saves the day, once again.

Color Me Distracted

Two names you go by: Taylor, Poppy
Two things you are wearing right now: Dog tags, white socks.
Two of your favorite things: Hmmm... People I love & medicine.
Two things you want very badly at the moment: Contact & to be free of worry.
Two favorite pets you have/had: Duke (dog) & Oscar (cat).
Two things you did last night: Worked on my paper & did my ‘CPT Loro’ workout.
Two things you ate today: A 90 calorie protein bar and... then another protein bar.
Last two people you talked to: Therefore and a patient.
Two things you plan on doing tomorrow: Hitting the gym & getting some Vietnamese food.
Two longest trips taken in the last five years: A road trip from San Antonio, TX to West Point, NY by way of Luckenbach, TX – Athens, GA – Atlantic City, NJ.
Two favorite holidays: Lent and Halloween.
Two favorite beverages: Green Tea & red wine.



100 Things About Me

Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?
I prefer them closed but simply for cosmetic reasons.

Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotels?
No.

Have you ever 'done it' in a hotel room?
Done what? I’m not exactly sure what’s being implied here=)

Have you ever stolen a street sign before?
Yes... although not lately and there are many, many more I would like to have for my very own.

Are you eating anything right now?
Nope.

Who do you think reads these?
I’m not sure anyone reads these... at least, not in their entirety.

Do you have a calendar in your room?
Other than the one in the lower right hand corner of my computer? Nope.

Where are you?
Alone in NY.

What's your plan for the day?
I’m going to eat a light lunch then I’m going to return to torturing patients for my own amusement.

Are you reading any books right now?
No, the only stuff I’m reading nowadays is medical journals and field manuals.

Do you ever count your steps when you walk?
I do, sadly. I count paces when I walk and run.

Have you ever peed in the woods?
Yes, indeed.

Do you ever dance even if there's no music playing?
There always seems to be music playing in my head so sometimes I find myself bopping along to music no one else can hear.

What is your "Song of the Week"?
The DJ Erb mix of Gimme Some Lovin’ by The Blues Brothers and Low by FloRider

Is it okay for guys to wear pink?
It’s not pink! It’s SALMON.

Do you still watch cartoons?
I don’t have anything in particular against cartoons but, no, not really. I’ll probably watch WALL*E when it comes out.

Whats your favorite love movie?
Hmmm... A.I.

What do you drink with dinner?
Water with lemon or green tea.

What do you dip Chicken Nuggets in?
Yow... I try not to eat chicken nuggets.

What is your favorite food/cuisine?
Asian cuisine.

What movies could you watch over and over and still love?
Fight Club, Sin City, Big Trouble in Little China... too many to count, really.

Were you ever a boy/girl scout?
Nope.

Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine?
Wow... in a different world and in a different body, perhaps.

When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper?
I write letters occasionally, more lately than ever before... I just don’t send them.

Can you change the oil in a car?
Yes.

Ever gotten a speeding ticket?
Yes, before my OCD started dictating my driving habits.

Run out of gas?
Yup.

Favorite kind of sandwich?
There’s a great Vietnamese Baguette that I’ve been lovin’ on lately.

Best thing to eat for breakfast?
Supplements, a protein bar and a bottle of water.

What is your usual bedtime?
It depends on when I have to get up in the morning... I like to get 7-8 hrs of sleep a night.

Are you lazy?
I often try to be.

When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween?
Ninjas, mostly.

Do you have any magazine subscriptions?
Nope.


Which are better, legos or lincoln logs?
Legos.

Are you stubborn?
I try to be reasonable, but, yeah, I guess I’m a bit stubborn.

Who is better Leno or Letterman?
Letterman... not that I watch either of these 2 guys or anything, Leno has always seemed to be a pretender after Jonny Carson.

Ever watch soap operas?
Nope.

Afraid of heights?
My dear, yes.

Sing in the car?
Yes

Dance in the car?
No, but wouldn’t it be interesting if I could?

Ever used a gun?
Yes.

Do you think musicals are cheesy?
Some musicals ARE cheesy... some are clever.

Is Christmas stressful?
Yup.

Favorite type of fruit pie?
Apple.

Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?
A pilot, hands down. Then I grew up and realized that I hate flying.

Do you believe in ghosts?
Yes.

Ever have a deja-vu feeling?
Continuously, although it seems to benefit me in no way what so ever.

Do you take a vitamin daily?
Yup.

Wear slippers?
Just shower shoes.

Wear a bath robe?
No

What do you wear to bed?
Nada.

Wal-Mart, Target or K-Mart?
None of the above.


Nike or Adidas?
Nike, they make very nice running shoes.

Cheetos Or Fritos?
Fritos, mixed together into a Frito-chili pie.

Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?
Peanuts... mixed into a diet Coke.

Ever hear of "gorp"?
The owrld according to...? nope, that’s something else.

Ever taken karate?
Yes.

Can you curl your tongue?
Yup.

Ever won a spelling bee?
Nope.

Have you ever cried because you were so happy?
Yup.

Own a record player?
I think there is one in my backyard still.

Ever been in love?
A few times.

Hot tea or cold tea:
Both, in their proper times and places.

Tea or coffee?
See above.

Favorite kind of cookie?
My dear friend, Rabbit, makes a cookie that I am head over heels in love with.

Can you swim well?
I do swim well.

Can you hold your breath without manually holding your nose?
Yes.

Are you patient?
Not as such, no.

Ever had plastic surgery?
Nope.

Which are better black or green olives?
Green... good with martinis, good in meatloaf.

Can you knit or crochet?
No, but I can apply a running suture if you need me to.

Wash room or bathroom?
Washroom.

Do you want to get married?
I am married.

Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way?
No, I generally just figure out a way to get what I want.

Do you have kids?
Yes.

Do you want kids?
More? Hmmm.

Who do you wanna see right now?
Many, many folks, my boyos most especially.

Candy is Delicious

It’s a bit slow here in the clinic this afternoon so I thought I’d share with you, my hypothetical reader, a few of the things that have been going on here in my world.

With the vast majority of cadets on vacation or doing training off-post during first block, we are left with only a handful of ‘brokens’ to (have to deal with) help rehabilitate. That’s just fine by me, at least in the short term, as I have another class to prepare and deliver. This time it’ll be on Chronic Exertional Compartment Syndrome (CECS), another lower extremity malady that I am personally acquainted with. I am a bit reluctant to bring up my symptoms as the orthopedic surgeons here all seem a bit bored and are all too eager to cut a brother open. No thanks, guys; I’ve gots stuff to do, not the least of which is being prepared for the EFMB come October.

Lets see, what’s been going on since my last update? Ah, I am now stationed at the US military academy at West Point, NY. The barracks they have us in are nice, although anything better than a cardboard box or shelter half is a definite step up from the barracks at Ft. Sam. They are single person rooms, non-smoking, of course. I have a bathroom that I share with my next door neighbor, four storage closets, a desk and a king-sized bed. The bed is definitively the high point after months and months of sleeping on a hard single-sized bed although I do find myself picking a spot to sleep on and staying there all night long, lol. Literally an acre of bed to roll around on and I invariably end up next to the clock every morning. There are no restrictions on food or alcohol in the barracks and we can have overnight guests for up to a week before having to inform the chain of command. All in all, not so bad for this guy.

What can I say about the academy that hasn’t already been said? I know, this: The cadets are, without exception, retarded. Oh yeah. See, I had a solidly preconceived notion about the, er, quality of the kids that are selected to go here. Indeed, aside from the arduous first year, the hardest thing about this place is getting to come here. So, the kids that come here know a bit more about perseverance and responsibility than their counterparts at colleges and universities. That is where the differences end, no joke. Now, I live in a party-college town, CSUC is in fact THE party college in California. As a result, I am familiar with the asshatery that comes of college students who are given their first bit of freedom and subsequently lose their damn minds. Yup, they’re retarded. And so are the kids here, by and large. This example is a snippet of an actual conversation I had with one of my patients:

Them: My knees hurt.

Me: Well, did you do anything this weekend that could have possibly caused this?

Them: No, nothing out of the ordinary.

Me: What’s ‘ordinary’? (This question proved to be too complicated so I decided to simplify it by asking, “What did you do this weekend?”)

Them: I ran the Boston Marathon.

Me: You ran a marathon?

Them: Yeah, I’m on the marathon team!

Me: And you say your knees hurt? -This is followed by several moments of me blinking at them and them blinking right back at me. Its this whole blinking thing and it takes a bit of effort to break free of it.

Me: Stop running marathons.

Let me explain a bit here: after joining the army I had to learn how to run and now its a regular part of my life. I don’t hate it, its good for clearing your mind and it’s a great cardio workout. I run 2-3 miles every day. I do NOT run marathons. Every single long distance competition runner I’ve met has a lower body malady of some sort. 100 percent serious injury rate. And they all look like they need a YooHoo and a sandwich, stat. /sigh.

An MRI was ordered and after four short years of running marathons as a collegiate sport, this particular cadidiot needed meniscus graphs on both knees. 6-9 months of painful rehab later and she will likely want to start running marathons again.

Hmmm, what else? Ah, my counterpart (we will call him ‘Therefore’) and I visited the Big Apple and took in some of the sights. The thing I liked the best was Chinatown, it was awesome. We had lunch at a dimsum restaurant that offered cart service. If you have never had the pleasure, you should check it out! It was a fun way to be served and the food was amazing. Overall, the city was much cleaner than I was led to believe, probably thanks to ex-mayor Rudy. Times Square was magnificent and the NY public library was incredible. I rode a lion. Apparently, there’s a big statue somewhere in the harbor, but we’ll have to check that one out at another date.

I have also recently realized that while I am not especially fond of sick people, I seem to have a knack for medicine. The next big step for me education/army-wise is to submit a packet for the PA school. The only sad part is its back in San Antonio again for the didactic portion and then an internship at any of a dozen crappy postings. All told, it’ll be 2 years that I am out and about on Uncle Sam’s dime. That’s okay by me. Luckily, the soonest I could be accepted is spring of ’10. That leaves some wiggle room with regards to family and friends back home and, hey, it beats the hell out of 18 months in the big sandbox, ja? The more I realize that the army is a significant portion of my life, the more comfortable I become with the various rigors and challenges that are presented to me.

Not all has been good news, however. Recently I have had to mourn the passing of a wonderful relationship. Truth be told, it didn’t die so much as evolve into something different, or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that my understanding of it evolved. Either way, it is not the same as I had once enjoyed and its loss saddens me. I still occasionally feel ghost sensations from it like the amputee who still feels his wedding ring.

Bah, enough of this maudlin nonsense.

Music-wise, I am still listening to the same stuff as always with the exception being the introduction of stripper-music, thanks to Therefore. My latest love affair is “Paper Planes” by M.I.A. There’s just something compelling about the music combined with her accent contrasted by the subtly adult lyrics. Her whole album is a bit off center, interestingly so.

Breathing Out So You Can Breath Me In

Tonite the cigarette craving is upon me, its dirty, smelly hooks driven in deep. Normally, if its after 8 pm on a school night and I get a craving I would find a little private time (iff’n you know what I mean) or go to sleep or both. Tonite, I cannot. I foolishly thought I could do a little reading while simultaneously doing a little laundry. As luck (or the Cosmos) would have it I found myself reading about smoking and the net effect was/is devastating. I am unable to go to bed as my stuff just got put in the dryer and, as anyone who has ever used a public (military) laundry can attest, the world is teeming with thieves so it must be guarded.

*as a side note here, I can say that I am truly and honestly baffled by the idea of underwear theft. Personally, I don’t want anything that has been near another guy’s junk. (Women, for my part, are obviously excluded here. I mean lets face it: if a woman wants something of yours to wear there’s just no way you can stop her.) When, in basic, someone had to borrow my towel, I told him, “Sure… just buy me another one when you get a chance.” This is because, if it rubs against your junk, it belongs to you now. No amount of chlorine or disinfectant will change this fact.

I suddenly realized that I am literally surrounded by smokers and I wonder to myself if now is the time to quit. Ive got birthdays and road trips and finals to do still. Ive got to give a class on Patella-Femoral Pain Syndrome while somehow faking Subject Matter Expert-level knowledge in front of a panel of folks who know a hell of a lot more about the knee than I ever will.

Anyways, that’s my bit of whining for tonite. I hope you all sleep well in your addiction-free beds and dream of the things that make you smile.

-ps, if you all are wondering, I’ve recently added Dropkick Murphys and Drivin’ N Cryin to my playlist. If you’re familiar with me and/or either of these 2 groups you can probably figure out which songs in particular.

And So It Is… One Mo’ Time…

What's one my mind? Hmm.

Regular (lol) readers of this blog may notice a trend here. If you, my hypothetical friend, guessed “Yoshi gets drunk and blogs about once a frickin’ year”, then you’re not too far off the mark. Its not that I haven’t anything to write about, on the contrary, my year has been interesting, at least in the Chinese proverbial sense.

What’s been happening lately? Well, some good stuff, some bad, you get the idea, ja? Lets see…

A while back my evil twin and I found out that we would be going to the same place for 10 weeks after we finished here. Shortly after receiving the news a plan (of sorts) was hatched: we should travel together, save a bunch of money by sharing expenses, visit with some dear friends along the way and possibly hit Atlantic City and witness a mob slaying. Good times, ja?

Well, the first snag hit when his car, outta the blue starts overheating. Well, the author of this page is a fairly handy guy, so we took his car apart and after much knuckle-bruising and forearm-burning, we fixed it. Not one week later, my darling wife calls to tell me that our old Nissan is broken down because it was overheating.

Now, to the casual observer it would appear that these two instances are unrelated. However, readers may remember that I am locked into an epic battle with the Cosmos. (If you are not familiar with my plight just know that there is history between the Cosmos and I, oh yes. There was some name calling involved, some general asshattery from all parties but for the most part it seemed as though there was an uneasy truce between the Cosmos and I. In fact, last year was one of my favorite years yet.) From my slightly skewed perspective it would seem that the Cosmos had broken our truce and in it’s Seinfeld-type sense of humor decided it would poke me. As though there were a finite amount of overheating ju-ju rolling around the universe and it placed me in a situation where I would happily help out my friends, unknowing that the Cosmos was just around the corner, sniggering into its hand.

I see, Cosmos… well played.

Cosmos 1
Me 0

As some of you may know, for reasons both subtle and obvious I recently took up smoking again.
*a patient pause here to allow the booing and the hissing to die down.

Well, worry not friends; I have once again given it up… again. Yes, just like that. No, its not easy (at all) I’ve just done it so many times I’ve gotten really good at it. Last time it sucked quite a bit but I was in a state of flux coming here to this new school and I had peeps I could bother both day and night whenever I needed the distraction. This time not so much. Last time the stars seemed to align wonderfully and somehow I was able to pick up a replacement habit easily. This time, I’ve got practical exams, presentations, birthdays, regular exams, roommates and regular army BS to deal with. Oh, and did I mention that there are reasons that are both subtle and obvious? I did? ‘k.

Anyhoo, iff’n you get a moment, send a little good ju-ju my way as it seems we once more find ourselves pitted against our age-old rival, the American Navy… er, I mean the Cosmos. Sorry, I was channeling Sean Connery there for a moment. Anyways, where was I? Ah, yes.
“Once more, down to the beach, my dear friends…” lol, wish me luck.