Sucks To Be The Carrot

Many a strange event I have seen in this life, but never would I have guessed that I would witness the act of a sheep being inflated like a ballon with a bike pump. It was a routine afternoon with Team Black meandering through the mahalos, ferrying soldiers between FOB's, JSS's, COP's and other acronyms, nothing out of the ordinary. It may or may not have been the same day we saw live Hawks for sale in the market. According to our interpreters they cost somewhere between $10 and $1500 apparently allowing some margin of error. Regardless, I was absently staring into the middle distance as we rounded a corner when I saw it. Two boys in the median flanking a freshly slaughtered goat carcass that now more resembled a pinata than it's former animal self. A good person would have quietly observed the unfamiliar customs of a foreign people with respect and patient interest. I, however, burst out laughing. Laughing so loud that the kids heard me 30 feet away through 3 inches of steel armor and looked up as we drove by. They saw me smiling and pointing and smiled and waved back as they continued to pump more air into their project.

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Recently a couple one liter bottles of light yellow hand soap showed up in our bathroom. Crudely written on the side in sharpie marker are the words "hand soap." These words have been X'ed out and underneath them in even more primitive script appears the word "urine." I refuse to use this soap. I know that the labels do not truthfully describe what the bottles contain but the thought that there may even be a remote chance that some percentage of what ever is in those bottles is actually the aforementioned waste liquid, won't allow me to take the chance. This either speaks to how much we allow our perception to shape our reality, or how little I trust my coworkers.

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There are few pleasures more pure than watching your boss be mauled by a police dog. Seriously, it's hilarious, even if like me, you like your boss. It's like watching a home video of a guy taking a shot in the nuts with his kids wiffle bat. You laugh because it isn't you. And if it is you, you laugh because you can't legally murder your kid.

The medical platoon somehow coordinated a session with the MP's to act as agitators for their K9 counterparts. They dressed us up in a over sized padded green bomber jacket and gave us specific instructions on how to act around the working dogs. Unlike working girls, the standard "no eye contact", "pay first" rules don't apply. We were told to some important tips like to twist our arm if the dog grabs more than just the jacket and not to make a fist so your hand won't be crushed if it's targeted. I didn't volunteer.

MP's use a few select breeds for police work. We got the pleasure of watching a Belgian Malamute, which look like a German Shepherd mated with a harpoon, leap full speed and attach itself to one exposed appendage after another. The full take downs were the most entertaining but it was also funny to watch the dog "watch" the victim when it was ordered not to bite. |'ve never seen an animal display such unadulterated desire. It's the real world counterpart to a Bugs Bunny's eyes turning into carrots. None of the MP's had ever unleashed their dogs in a real world situation but I can tell you that you definitely don't want to be on the receiving end of those teeth.
Sucks to be the carrot.

Lovely Hat!

We are pirates and lost boys, the dreamers and downtrodden; men who gave up one life for another that few truly embrace. From all over the country and the world we came together and formed a unit and a family, bound both emotionally and contractually. Here rank and ability replace skin color and privilege, regardless of where we came from we are here now, sharing both triumph and tragedy as one. That’s not to say that we don’t have our differences, it’s just pleasing in a way to watch television and see how differently soldiers process hardship. It’s empowering in a place where you have control over so little.

I get concerned for the younger guys because I know how it feels to stare across that divide. To see on the other side your old life and friends knowing there may not be a way to bridge the distance. All I can do is help them along on their journey. It’s easy to see the anger in their eyes and hear the arguments through these thin walls. They know they are missing out on a lot by being here. Relationships are hard enough when you can sit face to face but how anyone can build a new marriage from across the world is beyond me. We aren’t that patient of a culture.

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I got to walk through one of the poorer neighborhoods in our OE (operational environment) a couple weeks ago where we were to pull security for a school opening. It’s hard to gauge how people really feel about us still being here when they seem to have day to day operations pretty well under control. To be there and see the happiness on the faces of both the children and the parents helped clear up some doubts I’d had. They understand it’s going to be a long, long journey back to normality after all the conflict but there is a strong national pride at least among the people in Baghdad. They want to see improvement and they are working toward that goal.

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There’s a giant poofy white blimp that flies over our FOB keeping a watchful eye on the surrounding area. I’ve named it Mr. Blimp and I sort of worship it like a god. I do little dances for it and in turn it never transmits video to the TOC of me picking my nose when I walk home from the DFAC after dark. It feels like a sort of Orwellian Stay-Puff Marshmellow Man is constantly looking over my shoulder. It’s comforting and creepy all at once, like family reunions.

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We’ve adopted a sort of unit mascot in the visage of the one they call Swamp Thing. If you haven’t seen the pictures of him I’ll try and describe just how awesome this guy is. Personally I think it’s an act. We thought that he was crazy when we first got here because he looked so incredibly dirty but after talking (and a few photo ops) with him I’ve come to the conclusion that he does this act for money. It’s bad luck not to give money to the needy here, so the homeless and mentally ill roll around with fat wads of cash in their hands as they walk down the street asking for more.

Swampy hangs out on a road that is pretty much entirely made up of automotive repair shops so it isn’t uncommon for people to be covered in dirt and grease from working on vehicles, but his get up is unique. His outfit is something of a cross between a burlap sack and a special needs Peter Pan tunic replete with pieces of fabric added in the way you would put camouflage on a guille suit. It looks tailored in a way but completely haphazard in another. His face and arms appear covered not just in filth but actual caked on chunks of mud, one particular piece protruding from under his left eye hasn’t seemed to change in either size or consistency in the weeks that I’ve been paying attention. His hair is a mess of semi-dreadlocked lumps forming a natural helmet that I would assume is solid to the touch… I will not test this theory.

Oddly enough he doesn’t smell. In a country where personal hygiene regiments are pliable, I’d say he’s pretty high on the standards scale. How he achieves this is a mystery of both nature and science but I believe that what ever the answer is it may also help us discover a cure for cancer.

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Our truck is somewhat of an anomaly. We actually have fun when we roll outside the wire. It’s rare to find a combination of people who can sit in a confined space for 12 hours at a time and not get bored of each other. This is the first time I’ve felt like I was working with people who I consider more than just co-workers.

A few days ago we were taking a left hand turn onto a street and cut the corner a little sharp forcing a taxi to have to back up to let us through. Our TC told our gunner to stand up and give the taxi driver a “loud shukran” by which he meant say “thank you” loud enough so the taxi driver could here us. Our gunner, who we always joke with because he isn’t very intimidating despite his size and the arsenal at his disposal, stands up and yells “LOUD SHUKRAN!” causing us to almost hit a pylon because everyone in our truck including our driver were laughing so hard we couldn’t see straight.

It reminded me of that Daniel Tosh stand-up where he wonders if there has ever been a case of polite tourrette syndrome, “LOVELY HAT!”

25 Things

1. Sometimes I really enjoy the smell of skunk but only if it's been dead for a while.

2. Being on top of a latter makes me very uncomfortable, but jumping out of airplanes is fun.

3. The only movie I have ever been able to recite verbatim is "Ace Ventura: Pet Detective"

4. I long to own a Boston Terrier named Mr. Pants.

5. My track record with keeping animals is pretty dismal. Mr. Pants will have to wait.

6. I want to be a journalist but I can't spell and have only a basic understanding of English grammar.

7. I don't believe that there's anything after death but if there is, I want to be a poltergeist.

8. I feel like getting older is inherently sad as all human experience ultimately ends with loss and death but that being said there is so much beauty to discover that I feel the scale remains balanced.

9. I love guns but I would never hunt for sport.

10. Not as much now but I used to have vivid visions of hurting myself while doing everyday activities like accidentally shutting my finger in the car door. This caries over to my current occupation but I do it on purpose to make sure I'm ready for the worst possible scenario.

11. The fastest I've ever run a 2 mile was 12:34.

12. I studied Wicca for a time but realized that it didn't feel any more real than any other religion.

13. I'm not sure I have an ultimate goal, just lots of reoccurring fantasies of things I will one day accomplish.

14. I keep wishing for another big earth quake; they are so much fun! (minus the property damage and injuries).

15. My most creative times are either late at night or when I'm avoiding doing something else.

16. No, I won't write a song about you, and if I do you probably won't know about it.

17. No, I won't forget about you when and if I become famous.

18. I've come to realize that true friendship is the rarest and most valuable commodity known to man.

19. I've learned words in four different languages since I got to Iraq.

20. There is one person who I've known who I would have no problems murdering as I believe it would be a service to mankind. (hint: that person isn't tagged on this list)

21. I'm somewhat of a RedBull fan boy. It is the one company I could be a sales rep for and feel good at the end of the day. (maybe)

22. If I ever get married all my groomsmen will be wearing kilts. And I'm getting Flogging Molly to play.

23. Places are just places. I've been all over. It's people that make a place special.

24. Austin, Tx is the one place I've found outside California that I feel I could call home.

25. It's the Catalina fuckin' Wine Mixer! POW!!