I am sitting, happy as a clam in my little plastic shell. It is 11:21 PM, and I have a rare opportunity tonight to watch a live Red Sox game—a day game to you, but late-night for me. I won’t make it through the whole thing. Probably won’t want to: Tim Wakefield and a Manny-free, Ortiz-less Sawx versus Edinson Volquez probably spells “L” for my boys. Still, with my Crystal Light lemonade on the desk next to my bed (thanks Barry and Ellen!), and my Maranatha Almond Butter (thanks mom and dad) and some Ritz Crackers, and life is just good. A few topics to write about this week, in no particular order:

Friendly Crustaceans

Today is the Army’s birthday (233rd, I believe), and we celebrated today with a grand feast for lunch. The menu included prime rib, breaded shrimp, Martinelli’s sparkling grape juice, and lobster tails. These were not some mini one-ounce tails, or chunked/formed lobster meat. They were nice, big six-to-eight ounce babies, and they gave us two of them each. You could negotiate more, too: the big dude in front of me in line ended up with about six after sweet-talking the Iraqi server for a few seconds. Not too shabby. They tell me that the 4th of July will be an even bigger, better meal. You’ll read about it here first.

Mine Tastes Like Leukemia…

The water here is getting worse and worse tasting. Here’s the dilly: I have mentioned in the past that we drink bottled water all of the time, and that the bottles are kept in big pallets on street corners throughout Al Asad. Well, as the weather gets warmer, those bottles get really, really hot during the day, and I think the heat causes some of the chemicals which make up the bottle to leach into the water, which makes it taste kind of like drinking hospital air. Because of this, when new water bottles are put out (distinguishable by the lack of a dusty sheen on the plastic wrap), all of us scramble to get the “fresh” ones, sometimes digging deep into the pile to pick out a less-tainted twelve-pack. But we often have to make do with the funky water, so we flavor the stuff with Crystal-Light-type mixes or Gatorade powders (supplied by the DFAC), which does indeed cover up the bad taste. Still, one has to wonder how much DNA is being damaged with every chemical-laden sip.

A Rush Of Blood To The Noggin

Today while playing some basketball on a very small half-court, I had a head-on-head collision with SPC Hert who is a big, muscular guy. Both of us saw stars for a moment, and I felt a bit wobbly afterwards for the rest of the game. Later, as I was taking a shower, I felt the big mushy lump over my right temple where Hert’s nose had bashed into me. I continue to feel a tiny bit nauseous, and a tad Alzheimery, and wonder if I may have been slightly concussed during the collision. Don’t worry, mom: if I have any symptoms tomorrow, I’ll get checked out by a doctor. (Other than myself.)

Russert

I’m surprised at how sad I am about the sudden death yesterday of Tim Russert, the “Meet The Press” guy. I’m not usually much affected by the death of “celebrities.”However, if you have read this blog much, you probably know that I am a political junkie, and thus have been “watching” (podcasting, actually) Russert’s show for many years. I liked Russert quite a bit—he seemed to have a genuine “everyman” quality about him. As opposed to many of the talking heads, he went after politicians on both sides equally and fairly. In flipping through the channels tonight, I saw tributes to Russert from people ranging from Dick Cheney to Barack Obama—political polar opposites if ever there were any. Sunday mornings (afternoons here) haven’t been the same since David Brinkley died; Russert’s untimely demise will have a similar effect, and of course his passing at such a young age (58) is truly a tragedy for his family members. My heart goes out to them.

Well, that’s all I’ve got tonight, kids. Wakefield is holding his own against the whiz kid, with the Sox having somehow eked out three runs against Volquez (wild pitch, error, string-o-singles), and the Sox leading 3-1 in the sixth. See you tomorrow!

Sorry guys and gals, long day today, and I did not have much computer access, due to circumstances beyond my control. I will get a longer message out tomorrow, including, by popular demand, some interesting medical cases. Had a few this week, including another pregnancy, a patient with herpes of the eye (not a laughing matter, and not sexually transmitted—truly a sad case, but I have high hopes for the soldier), some spider bites, an ulcer, and some others.

File under “It gets hot in the desert”: 118 degrees today at 2 PM. Tomorrow is supposed to be warmer, and next week, the high 120s.

Quote Of The Day

The Democrats are the party that says government will make you smarter, taller, richer, and remove the crabgrass on your lawn. The Republicans are the party that says government doesn’t work and then they get elected and prove it.

 

PJ O’Rourke

See you tomorrow!

Long day here on the ranch, and I didn’t get back to my plastic PlaySkool house until after 9, so all you get from me tonight is some inane political ranting. Here goes:

Everything I Need to Know I Learned From Barack & Hillary

1. Play fair. Unless you are behind in the race, or are, by virtue of your last name, entitled to the Presidency, no questions asked. Then, play mean. [Hillary---by the way, notice how she never uses the name "Rodham" any more?]
2. If you and I hear paranoid, angry, anti-American racism in the words of certain church-goers on the south side of Chicago, it is NOT because the speakers are racist anti-American paranoiacs, but rather because we, the listeners, have “untrained ears.” [Barack]
3. All crises occur at 3AM. [Hillary]
4. The voters in Pennsylvania are (according to one talk) a singularly unhappy, insular, world-weary, dangerously-isolated, and crutch-toting idiots, and yet (from another talk) Obama completely agrees them on virtually every issue and will give them everything they want. [Barack]
5. It takes a village to raise a child. The government is the village. You are the child. [Hillary]
6. Free trade was pure goodness in 1993, but it is evil now. [Hillary] It is rather likely, however, to be good again after November. [Barack]
7. John McCain is a conservative. [Both]

On a side note: “Dhimmy” Carter also had a lesson for us today: We DO negoiate with terrorists. In fact, we hug them and lay inscribed wreaths upon their graves .

“Let me further make it plain to the assassins in Beirut and their accomplices, wherever they may be, that America will never make concessions to terrorists — to do so would only invite more terrorism. Once we head down that path there would be no end to it, no end to the suffering of innocent people, no end to the bloody ransom all civilized nations must pay.”

 

–Ronald Reagan, June 18, 1985

Erik is without any internet access again and asked me to post thisfor him during a brief call. He said he used up all his juice this am on a general conference download that downloaded twice for reasons unknown. Not good since he only gets internet rations daily. 

Sit tight. The Erik-inator will be baaack. 

Thanks to Lorri for braving the WordPress interface and putting out that last blog entry. Well done!

I did indeed lose my internet access over the past three days. I initially did not know whether this was in any way related some other notable lacks around here. We have had little or no fresh foods for the past week, and certain packaged things disappeared from the DFAC as well (Gatorade, which is an Army staple—fortunately, I have a few squirreled away in my canister); the mail service has also been “out” for a couple of days (Monday and Tuesday). This may be (and probably is) all coincidence, but sometimes at work when we have a few free moments we have nothing better to do than speculate as to why things are not going exactly the way they “always” do. At any rate, mail delivery resumed today (two boxes from Lorri, woo-hoo!, plus a Wall Street Journal!), and they tell me the mess hall had good, plentiful, fresh chow. (I did not get to mess hall today—had a sick patient show up right before lunch, and we treated her through lunch break.) Internet is back up now (obviously), though I still don’t have an explanation for that one.

Some random thoughts for you. If you haven’t figured it out yet, I really like the numbers thingie, like this:

1. When military people speak, the word “Sergeant” is never fully pronounced (as is is in the movies, like “sar-gent”), except by those who are not “in the know” (i.e., newly-deployed medical corps types—fortunately, I figured this one out years ago). Instead, it is pronounced “Sar-int” or even just “Sarnt.” Efficient, as it cuts out a syllable.
2. The braintrust at Al Asad (not Army folks) have deemed it illegal to go anywhere outside of one’s container, unless one is wearing either the P.T. uniform (issued Army t-shirt and regulation shorts), or else the ACU (the new, digital all-terrain fatigues). This rule works much better for the Marines, who do not have a prescribed P.T. uniform, and just wear some greenish stuff. But for the Army people, it is annoying, and for those few of us who are LDS, it really creates a problem, because a certain part of our day-to-day clothing simply does not jive well with the Army PT uniform. So, I have had three options: 1) wear my big, bulky ACU uniform (with boots) everywhere I go (not practical, for many reasons; 2) wear my PT uniform without the LDS-specific clothing; or 3) break the rules. Option #3 has worked well for me so far, since I outrank everyone within a reasonable distance of me (except LTC Bullock, who is not exactly a stickler). I end up wearing other (non-issue) shorts, and an Army t-shirt when I am just putzing around the cans, and I put on my ACUs when I go anywhere.
3. In addition, we can’t go to the mess hall in the P.T. uniform which means that I can’t go from work to home, change my clothes and go the gym (about 1/2 mile from my can), and then go across the street to the mess hall after the gym. You might think that this avoids having sweaty gym-goers in the mess hall, but this is sadly not the case. The Marines actually wear their ACUs to the gym (boots and all) and then drag their pit-stained bodies over to eat afterwards. You can keep the sweaty guy out of the mess, but you can’t keep the…aww nevermind, that’s not working.
4. If you, like me, don’t feel that you are in your best possible shape, then it may be really depressing for you (as it is for me) being out here surrounded by a bunch of 20-somethings and a few highly-motivated 30-somethings. I have done nothing but run, bike (14 miles on Saturday!), treadmill, do the elliptical, lift weights, etcetera since I got here, but 90% of people are still in better shape than I am. Far better. The other 10%? They’re called “civilians.”
5. Presiding Bishop Richard Edgeley recent gave a talk at BYU on the prophet Joseph Smith, in which he announced that the Church of Jesus-Christ of Latter-day Saints has moved into fourth place in American religions with regard to the number of members. This is amazing to me, but all the more amazing when I realize how very little the people here with me know about the church. Even the guy from Arizona doesn’t seem to know anything about us. Strange.
6. Someday, SOMEDAY, I will get the nerve up to tell you about the toilets here. That has been a real education for me. Nothing the Army taught us had prepared any of us for the psychological trauma we would go through here, just trying to find a place to answer nature’s call.
7. I am very glad to hear that Lisa, Adam and family made it out of the Maui airport alive. Unbelievable luck, heading to Hawaii on Aloha the very week that Aloha declares bankruptcy. (It leaves me wondering if the Aloha people all stood up in the airport at once and yelled out “WE……DECLARE……BANKRUPTCY!”)
8. (WARNING: No Iraq content.) My mom wrote in one of the comments about a salty fish that Grandpa Johnston used to eat. My curiosity got the best of me (being a fan of gross, salty things) and I looked it up and found that “Blind Robin” is a chemically-altered dried herring snack. One of the sites claimed that it is dried “on a dashboard,” which sounds just perfect to me. This made me understand a little more why grandpa had that triple bypass, and also made me glad that I wasn’t raised in the midwest, where such things are allowed to exist. Then, while scrolling down the page, looking at regional foods, I came across this wonderful example of good old fashioned southern cuisine, available at your local Piggly:

Makes me proud to be a Southerner. Love the “serving suggestion” there (eggs ‘n’ brains), and the fact that they advertise the “milk gravy,” as if that is a great selling point. Of note: contains just 1,350% recommended daily allowance of cholesterol (not making that up). Grab the can opener, Lurlene!

Finally, my prayers go out to my friends and brothers-in-arms in Baghdad who are being shelled daily, Jeff Passey and Bob Vigersky among them. I have met a number of people here who have close relatives—including brothers, sisters, husbands—over there, and have yet to hear from them. Tough times, and my heart goes out to each of you.

That’s it for tonight; got some interesting medical cases to tell you about soon, and thoughts on our unique water supply at Al Asad.

Godspeed, and thanks for worrying about me,

Erik 

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