I was once (still?) a cynic. I started to consider years ago that ten percent of people were the top intellectuals, philanthropists, inventors, artists, and warriors (I was in the military at the time). That also got me thinking about all the gloom-ers, doomers, and desperado, folks whom I likened to the bottom “ten-percenters”. In the middle were the remaining eighty percent who either were sketchy, but not necessarily “bad” or the more reasonable just-trying-their-best-to-get-by folks. In a world today where people determine the answer they want first, and go in search of, or create the evidence they need to support their pre-determined answers, it seems unnatural to work the other way round. So I came up with an 10/80/10 proposition. I have not conducted rigorous research. During my worst cynical days and weeks, personal experience and social media provide me a predetermined answer in search of validation. I often apply it to everything that humanity touches. Continue reading
commentary
Dunkirk, the movie
Watching the movie, Dunkirk, on Saturday was not a traditional rendering of the epic war-story. The rescue of hundreds of thousands of British and French troops on the beach in May, 1940 was told in intersecting story lines.
But what I got out of it as a military veteran, was both the unspoken fear of many young soldiers who were looking at the empty sea for rescue, strafing, bombing and the ships they were able to find and board, being sunk. It had little dialogue- the courage of those who were defending the retreating soldiers, pilots and the naval personnel who were trying to protect these troops made the film even more desperate. At one point, one of the characters makes the observation that England was not mobilizing a lot of their navy in order to preserve it for the expected invasion from Hitler. But they were mobilizing a civilian fleet to sail for Dunkirk. That early war period, when the Germans were rolling across Europe seemed hopeless. There was courage, particularly in those who sailed across the English Channel in thousands of boats to rescue the men.
My mother grew up near Belfast in now Northern Ireland. I never heard stories about living during the war and only learned how difficult it was from history and publications I obtained when we visited there. Perhaps as she was quite young early in the war, but it might well have been that spirit the British exhibited. You see, the Germans during the Battle of Britain, especially in 1940 -41, were bombing the shipyards, factories and sinking merchant fleets to isolate Britain. The heroism of the troops that eventually defeated Hitler’s armies was not the stuff of epic war movies, but courage expressed in action of ordinary people doing the extraordinary. The scene in Dunkirk I appreciated was the young soldier riding in the train once back in Britain about Winston Churchill’s stirring words to rally the Britons. And the people far from being negative about their rescued troops, were rallying and supportive and welcoming.
“field day” is not outdoors
I love the smell of Pine-oil cleanser. Many years ago, I was taught, or should I say, I was indoctrinated, in proper cleaning technique by the United States Navy. One of the cleansers we used was Pine-oil, in water. With a mop and a wringer bucket – known as a swab and a cadillac, respectively and a tremendous amount of elbow grease, we would render things sanitary. One of the least sanitary places,the bathroom – head to the Navy and Marines, a latrine, to Army and Air Force, was subject to daily, or even twice-daily cleaning. In boot camp, there are two primary skills impressed on the incoming rag-tag civilian to turn him into military personnel. Behind all the barking orders, trash can tossing, marching, calisthenics, and of course, basic military training, is attention to detail, and instinctive obedience to orders.
Cleaning is one of those “attention to detail” skills. One of the favored techniques of boot camp instructors when our unit was housed in Korean War -era barracks, was to set us to performing “field day” (deep cleaning) the barracks. These were a magnet for dust, flaking paint and generally the decks (floors) were yellowed or dull. The reward for passing inspection was relief from a marching drill, calisthenics, or even a short recreation period. The punishment for failing that inspection was enduring the former two choices and then, to field day all over again. As a trainee at a military technical school, the same inspections and field days occur, though the “Fleet Sailor” is normally separated from the recent boot camp graduates at a training command. 
You see, the “Fleet Sailor” has learned over years, that drills, inspections, and cleanliness are necessary, but she has developed a cynicism, a sarcastic response -mouth, and a few shortcuts to the cleaning process, particularly at a training command. Enter Pine-Sol and Future acrylic floor shine. Pine-Sol cleans very thoroughly, and even a few drops will permeate the living quarters to smell “clean”. Since waxing is a very time-consuming process to get applied properly and looking even, Future, when the floor has been thoroughly stripped of wax and cleaned, and applied carefully, generally resulted in inspection grades of “OUTSTANDING”. And that normally resulted in a duty-free day. That was, relief from standing a watch. Of course, the acrylic easily scratched, so occupants of those quarters would leave shoes by the door when entering the room for the next several days.
Some fifteen years later, aboard ship, our Executive Officer, “XO”, would periodically inspect areas of the ship to determine if the proper attention to detail was being paid. One favorite memory involved him, in coveralls and gloves, flashlight in hand, prostrate on the deck in the head next to a urinal. I was carrying a clipboard to note deficiencies. Up came the XO with palm up glove “asking” the senior Petty Officer in the compartment, “WHAT IS THIS, PETTY OFFICER?”
“PUBES, SIR”, he replied.
Pubic hairs on the deck behind the urinal and some dried pee were contributing factors to impending doom in armed conflict with an adversary. It indicated a lack of attention to detail. It was the XO’s job to see to it that everything on a ship was as near perfection as humanly possible. Efficient machines and a capable crew, ready and able to fight catastrophe – fire, accidents, flooding, and the unexpected has saved lives.
And now twenty-five years later, three boys now grown, and living in one of the dustiest environments I have experienced, with shed-prone dogs, my home has only been subject to a ‘fairly good’ field day about once a month, and a decent sweep and swab each week before company comes over. I am not complaining. Were I to dare to get out the glove, flashlight and query about pubic hairs and pee, the “Admiral” would point me in the direction of a bucket and swab and have me re-do it.
My former Commanding Officer and now, Rear Admiral, would probably be smiling, approving of an old Senior Chief getting re-acquainted with the swabbie skills. She always like my wife, the Ombudsman as much if not more than me.
Where the heck is the Pine-oil? I need to get to work.
NEVER clean a Chief’s coffee mug
One of the best and worst times of my young Navy Sailor life was performing as a “Mess Crank”.
While I have heard that the services now seem to employ civilians in the galleys or chow halls – all recruits learned kitchen duties in the recruit training commands’ cafeterias when I went through forty years ago. I can only imagine what shipboard life is now but it was a fact of sharing in responsibilities especially with the non-rated junior Sailors to help in all the Mess (kitchen) duties. You might find a “Mess crank” ( not a pejorative but a traditional term that none in my day might offer they were offended by) at all hours scrubbing, putting away dishware, or running a buffer across the waxed decks. For those assigned to the Officers Mess, Commanding Officer’s or the Chiefs’ Mess, duties came with varying levels of perks. Basic duties included setting up the coffee urn. On military installations, the 24-hour nature of the job meant coffee should always be fresh and never run out. This may have changed somewhat with the Millenials entering the ranks. About the time I retired, many Sailors were drinking those Energy drinks – all highly caffeinated – so some may have not taken up the coffee habit.
I might be old-fashioned, but woe to a Chief in the “Goat Locker” who disdains coffee!
A Chief and his coffee cup are fundamental to Navy lore. Just as my predecessors, I was unable to function without my coffee cup. Though some mugs might be now metal or some thermal metal/ plastic amalgam, the traditional one, a sturdy ceramic, that might be emblazoned with the Command logo, a CPO anchor, or the rating and warfare designation. Sometimes the outside of the cup was quite worn as might be any treasured possession through many years of service.
A retired Chief Petty Officer, despite the passage of years, can still be identified by his or her crooked finger, use of one favorite mug, or the ongoing need to balance work with coffee – and usually a bit of advice that begins. “now this is a no-sh*t*er..” On duty, the Navy Chief might otherwise be off-balance were it not for that crooked finger cradling a steaming mug. It is a tool for supervision, training or correction. The tell-tale hallmark of a “salty” Chief Petty Officer is the dark, some might say even crust-like, layer of black-brown coffee rings within a Chief’s coffee mug. “Added flavor” we all say.
And under NO circumstances, be the one “Mess crank”, who takes it upon himself to wash out the “filthy” mugs in the Chief’s Mess. The Chief’s Community has better information sharing than the latest satellite technology, and while you may eventually rise to become an initiate into the CPO community, someone might have been waiting 10 or 15 years to live down that sacrilege. These days I keep one cup at work that never, ever gets washed. Perhaps it is part of my charm. I have been known to several for years by, and still earn the respect of co-workers, as the “Chief”
** Cartoons Broadsides, Jeff Bacon
** more interesting asides about coffee mugs and the Chief’s community –http://www.navyhistory.org/2013/11/dont-wash-that-coffee-mug/
Navy S/ELEPHANT and other tactical mammals
While I admit to watching only parts of the movie, Life of Pi, is a survival adventure novel of a young Indian man lost at sea sharing a lifeboat with a tiger. Can you think of a better anti-piracy agent? Yet, perhaps land animals at sea is not entirely an uncommon phenomenon?
As reported by several news sources *, the Sri Lankan Navy a couple days ago rescued an elephant at sea — in a great demonstration of compassion. Leave no elephant behind! This elephant was crossing a shallow channel and was swept out to sea where it eventually was rescued — nine or ten miles out in the ocean! Continue reading
binnacle list
I am an old seadog these days. In my youth I would rarely miss work, school or a duty day for something as irritating as a cold or flu. For centuries, if a Sailor went to Sick Call and was placed on the “binnacle list”, the leading Seaman or later, the Chief Petty Officer would let it be known that Sailor had better be suffering Scarlet Fever or a severed artery. Shirkers normally found themselves on duty rosters during port calls. These days I have accepted that I no longer can bicycle fifteen miles to my duty station and immediately run ( and pass) the PRT fitness test – I was then still under 30 years old; I probably would not be able to hoist a sixty or seventy Damage Control bag over my shoulder while wearing an OBA * and hustle up or down the ladder during one of the shipboard training sessions – the General Quarters Drill ( I was not quite 36 then). My older body has stopped writing the checks my ego really can’t cash. (For those who may never have seen a check, this idiom was once a popular expression.)
There once was a time in America when self-reliance, mental and physical toughness were characteristics of mature males – college educated or working class. So when an acquaintance talked about his Army veteran dad only recently talking with a Veterans Administration representative about medical issues he has had for the last thirty years, and getting a disability rating as a result, I listened.
More than twenty years ago, I was hospitalized after weeks-long exposure to toxic fumes; However, the service and my young invincibility complex made little of it. In hindsight, a ruptured appendix that year and 20 years of hospital visits for gastric issues might be connected. And for good measure, Gulf War inoculations, and radiation might be worth a good look. Even if the Government declines, I will gain experience that I can pass on to my son in the Army. He’s definitely got physical issues that were aggravated by his service. But he too, is a tough, self-reliant type. I don’t want him to wait 20 years.
when stubbornness is not civil
Whenever there is authority, there is a natural inclination to disobedience. – Thomas Chandler Haliburton
https://www.brainyquote.com
What is it about human nature that wants to disobey authority and then complain that the “authorities” do not give a fig about what people want?!
With the hot, dry weather of summer in San Diego upon us, and following a very wet Spring generating a lot of brush and grasses, fires can start and grow like mad. Today, one such fire was apparently sparked by a vehicle traveling on the highway where grasses were very close to the roadbed. What became four hundred acres ablaze were tackled by firemen, trucks, fire-retardant dropping aircraft and water-dispersing helicopters from afternoon into the evening. Now it is bad enough that reporters and cameras were present to chronicle this fire, but these reporters stated, in the same breath, a MANDATORY EVACUATION for nearby residents AND some remaining behind to defend their homes with garden hoses. “Mandatory” had some meaning once upon a time. But today, there is an overall lack of trust in authority of any sort.
I get it. My house. Memories. Possessions. Stuff. But WHOSE life gets put on the line when the “stuff” hits the fan – and the fire threatens to envelope the homeowner and home? It’s the same response from those who live in the hurricane zone along the Eastern seaboard and Gulf of Mexico. Are first responders required to go after people who refuse to leave their property? I believe it is part of the oath they take to protect and serve. In the meantime, it looks like it is going to be a flaming Summer and Fall. I might want to buy another garden hose, or up my homeowner’s insurance.
navy chow is not served here
There is a feeling of relief today from both wife and husband regarding an evening of entertaining that has instead become a quiet evening at home. A call yesterday reminded both the caller and me that I had made – and promptly forgot – a two-week old invitation to dinner for young man and his date to our home Friday – tonight.
With both of us leaving our jobs late – the holiday Tuesday made a three-day workweek somewhat longer, over breakfast we had a improvised some strategic planning: a grocery run, expedited house cleaning, and games and such to make a welcoming evening. A call from our prospective guest asked us to reschedule. Date night – even ones that were to be had at our home – would be less hurried when the date – and the hosts have some time to prepare.
But the menus that I have enjoyed since our youngest left home, and we became Empty Nesters, is the thing that my wife has made quite encouraging – when she has time to prepare. I have, unashamedly, taken a liking to my spouse’s insomnia which tends to express itself now in cooking. Whether inspired by the Food Network or recipes shared on Facebook, we tend to have tasty lunches and dinners all week long. For the last six months, on weekends we make a “date” shopping for organic vegetables and fruit, and to COSTCO for meat or poultry. In the evenings, – as long as I remember to buy propane – I will barbecue the meat that makes up that week’s menu.
Mango salsa, sweet potato, braised chicken, beef stew, and so on were never part of my diet when I ate at military chow halls. Even when I became a Chief Petty Officer, and the food improved from chow identified by the day of the week, rather than taste or aroma, I never knew about mango salsa. And as a parent, when you have teenagers living at home, burritos and big pots of food that could be flavored to taste – were the norm. And when kids hurry out the door at mealtime or promise to eat later, food I might have secreted away in the fridge for myself – were usually gone before morning.
But when you aren’t cooking for an army, we can experiment with some of the things that we otherwise might have gone to a restaurant. Home cooking, when you can tip the chef with a smooch or a little convivial time — is better than anything.
Born in the USA
On the 241st anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Americans are set to commemorate the day with barbecues, parades, pool parties, and family gatherings. And fireworks. (And hopefully, neither the Emergency Rooms nor the firefighters and paramedics across the nation will be overtaxed today by injured or sunstroke-suffering revelers.)
When I began writing, I wanted to comment on the state of America’s unique history to unite diverse people into an economic power that changed the world in the last half of the Twentieth Century. Continue reading
the loser, in hindsight, still loses
There is a lot of churn in the media about people who support President Trump and those who do not. Most of the criticism directed at Trump is over his lack of political polish and crass personal behavior, via Twitter and from his past. Continue reading
Politics is really Science Fiction
A popular fiction theme repeated many times in film and on television is an apocalyptic vision of the future. And in the last decade or so, a political view of a fascist state, where the trains always run on time, there are flying cars and aircraft, militarized police and armored vehicles patrolling the territories.
Why an occupying force? Because the people are enslaved. (Think of the Hunger Games, Divergent, Judge Dredd, The Maze Runner, Resident Evil franchises.) Political movies of an intrusive State (Enemy of the State), or a anti-nationalist, Obama-like Administration, (White House Down), contain various plots about internal rogues in spy agencies, computer hackers, and terrorists. When it is not due to a plague or a nuclear war, the facilitator of the collapse of democracy is often an “inside man”. Even the Jason Bourne series has this theme. Once upon a time these themes were Soviet sleeper agents and North Korean/ Chinese intelligence agents bent on corrupting America, but now it seems Americans are the enemy.
From my perspective, given that the worldview of the filmmakers, writers, actors, and sponsors has been consistently dominated by those who make speeches and preen themselves as “inclusive”, pro-islamist, ” climate change”-rs, “borderless” and anti-nationalist, the bleak future depicted of masters and an enslaved people – even the Planet of the Apes franchise comes to mind- the apocalypse has come about by capitalist, nationalistic, bigoted, whites who use any means necessary to keep control.
Yet what I find troubling to this thinking are the rebels. The rebels hunt game, illegally, trade or barter goods and services with each other, are fairly well-educated, are open to new ideas, demonstrate good interpersonal relationships, and have a good judge of character. This seems to be the qualities that the current crop of news media, “Never Trump”-ers, environmentalists, campus anarchists, and disgruntled billionaires despise in the population! The oppressors, on the other hand, value forests, parks, mass transit, extravagant homes, prevent the general ownership of weapons, control weather, make flowery speeches, and keep among their “own kind”. This certainly seems to depict the “Liberal” or erstwhile “Democrat” world view of the 21st Century?
Fascinating? Troubling? Or ambivalent? My two cents for today.
Iron men and wooden ships
I think I should learn to sail before I die. In a sailboat. Perhaps on the ocean. After all, I spent a seventh of my life on the ocean, in vessels that patrolled the world. Of course, none of these used wind power and fabric for propulsion. But as crew aboard a warship crossing the Pacific and at other times crossing the Atlantic, I recall seeing adventurers on their tiny cork
For inspiration, I was reading about a couple adventurers, beginning with Robin Knox-Johnson who was first to sail solo and non-stop around the world in 1968 ( it took him 10 months to complete) and latest, Thomas Colville, whose fifth attempt at breaking the 2008 record of 57 days accomplished circumnavigation in only 49 days.
Or maybe I will just take lessons this summer on a smallboy at the Navy MWR marina and sail in San Diego Bay.
Truths, Half-truths, and Sea Stories 