-That was on a billboard in Dubai so I bought a bunch of it and spread it all over my body. Now I feel sticky and look stupid. Turns out it is supposed to help grow hair. Oh Oh...
-Things you can do in a mall in Dubai
1. Go skiing. Or snowboarding. If you're a "professional." If not you have to take a one hour lesson. They have a chairlift and everything...
2. Go scuba diving. With sharks. Or snorkel in a cage. Or take the learn to dive course. Or ride the glass bottom boat. Seriously, I seen it...
3. Go ice skating. Ok, you can do that back home, but still....
4. Shop 'till you drop
So they haven't figured out how to skydive yet, but give them time....
-Woke up late, rushed to the airport without breakfast and the flight is delayed two hours. Of course...
-I am so over Dubai. I took the night bus tour. Pretty amazing. Whole buildings change color every two minutes. The built a map of the world in sand islands in the bay. Rod Stewart bought the UK. I bought Greece, it was on sale...
http://youtu.be/uoFtwqENu8k
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Will that be screaming or non-screaming?
I know that people always say that they sat in a plane full of screaming children. I may of ah said it myself once or twice. Or thrice. But my flight from DC to Dubai was A PLANE FULL OF SCREAMING CHILDREN. Must of been the family plan. United lied to me about my business upgrade, you bastards...The entire plane from economy plus on back was children. Most of them well behaved, but there was a few "outliers." Outliers who screamed for 14 hours. I didn't think it was possible. Until I started screaming for the last five. Hey I wanted to fit in, OK? Thank God for ear pugs, noise reducing headphones and sleeping pills. PA, heal thyself. Or in this case, medicate thyself. The same kid screamed through customs and while waiting for a taxi. Poor taxi driver. I believe I will market a Benadryl/Ambien dart for use while traveling. "While Jim distracts the mother, I'll tranquilize the offspring SO I CAN GET SOME FREAKIN" SLEEP!"
So here I am in Dubai waiting to go back to KAF. I wanted to spend a day here checking out the Canadian Specialist Hospital, where we send people who need a specialist. I am staying at the Ramada across the street which is the recommended place so that I can say that I've been. After my tour I took the "Big Bus tour" of Dubai. This city discovered oil awhile ago and has been building ever since. It is the city of overindulgence and bad architecture. They proudly say that they use more water per day than any other city in the world. Pre-recorded voice dude, I'm from California and that seems an odd thing to be proud of. Even Arnold turns off the tap when he brushes his teeth. We saw the three artificial islands in the bay and the hotel in the bay that you have to take a helicopter to and the world's tallest building and on and on. It's Vegas on steroids. All from the air conditioned comfort of my double decker bus. I rode to the end and the tour ended abruptly at one of the million shopping malls here. Including the one with an indoor ski run and aquariums and... you name , they got it.
I am actually missing the simplicity of KAF. Pining for the fjords and poo pond...
So here I am in Dubai waiting to go back to KAF. I wanted to spend a day here checking out the Canadian Specialist Hospital, where we send people who need a specialist. I am staying at the Ramada across the street which is the recommended place so that I can say that I've been. After my tour I took the "Big Bus tour" of Dubai. This city discovered oil awhile ago and has been building ever since. It is the city of overindulgence and bad architecture. They proudly say that they use more water per day than any other city in the world. Pre-recorded voice dude, I'm from California and that seems an odd thing to be proud of. Even Arnold turns off the tap when he brushes his teeth. We saw the three artificial islands in the bay and the hotel in the bay that you have to take a helicopter to and the world's tallest building and on and on. It's Vegas on steroids. All from the air conditioned comfort of my double decker bus. I rode to the end and the tour ended abruptly at one of the million shopping malls here. Including the one with an indoor ski run and aquariums and... you name , they got it.
I am actually missing the simplicity of KAF. Pining for the fjords and poo pond...
Sunday, June 26, 2011
What a week it was
Counting down the hours until I leave PIT for IAD then DBX. And eventually KAF. Hope I don't confuse the letters and end up in H-E-L-L. Lightening fast week of travel, preparations, funeral, after -funeral, recovery and, last night, a dinner cruise on the river. Three to be exact. The mongodasomething-or-other, Allegheny and Ohio. A lovely time with two lovely ladies. And me wearing my 38 dollar suit. Yup thrift store special. 39 bucks for a suit, shirt and shoes that all fit me perfectly. And they told me that it was all half off. Maurice would be so proud. And I got to wear it twice. Such a deal...
United has come through with an upgrade for the trip back. So no more denial of entry into the red carpet lounge because I am an international economy plus traveler and only "premiere" on my frequent flyer status. So, if you fly domestic you're good, but travel 14 and half hours needing a shave and a brush du tooth, they tell you to go across the hall to the bathroom. Really? After I schlepped two terminals down to get here and I get banished to the restroom with the rest of the riff raff? Do you know who I am? Oh, you do, and that's why I was sent away...
Apparently, as soon as I left, the rocket attacks started at KAF. Geez I can't leave for 5 minutes...
We both have MACs so E and I keep trying to use "face-time" and so far it has worked twice. Once in the living rom at the house in SF and now from the dining room to the kitchen in PIT. Reminds me of my walkie talkies as a kid. A little string jumped out of my computer and attached to E's. Maybe they should call it tin-can-string time. Or I-yell. I guess you have to get a 9,000 mile long string to make it work outside of the house. Spool not included.
Not looking forward to the trip back. Drugs may be involved. Will spend a day or two in Dubai touring hospitals and meeting folks that I usually just email. The fort is covered by Bill so I can roam around doing some bid'ness. Then back to a new time zone, again. And the heat. And the sand. And the rocket attacks. Wait, why am I going back???
United has come through with an upgrade for the trip back. So no more denial of entry into the red carpet lounge because I am an international economy plus traveler and only "premiere" on my frequent flyer status. So, if you fly domestic you're good, but travel 14 and half hours needing a shave and a brush du tooth, they tell you to go across the hall to the bathroom. Really? After I schlepped two terminals down to get here and I get banished to the restroom with the rest of the riff raff? Do you know who I am? Oh, you do, and that's why I was sent away...
Apparently, as soon as I left, the rocket attacks started at KAF. Geez I can't leave for 5 minutes...
We both have MACs so E and I keep trying to use "face-time" and so far it has worked twice. Once in the living rom at the house in SF and now from the dining room to the kitchen in PIT. Reminds me of my walkie talkies as a kid. A little string jumped out of my computer and attached to E's. Maybe they should call it tin-can-string time. Or I-yell. I guess you have to get a 9,000 mile long string to make it work outside of the house. Spool not included.
Not looking forward to the trip back. Drugs may be involved. Will spend a day or two in Dubai touring hospitals and meeting folks that I usually just email. The fort is covered by Bill so I can roam around doing some bid'ness. Then back to a new time zone, again. And the heat. And the sand. And the rocket attacks. Wait, why am I going back???
Thursday, June 23, 2011
My tribute at Jim Haus's funeral
Good Morning. My name is Mark and I‘m Jim’s son in law.
In response to a question as to how to define a gentleman, author Jerry Dollar came up with the following:
“I turn to the Code of Olde as embraced by the medieval orders around the world for an answer. It all begins with integrity; knowing who one is, what one stands for, and what one is willing to fight for. To be a gentleman is to know the world around you and the people that make it up. It is a deep felt respect for the thoughts and ways of others. It is to embrace the beauty of humanity, to find the good in all those around you, and to commit yourself to bringing out the best in those you meet while bringing out the best in yourself! To act nobly in deed and word is to set a gentlemanly example!”
I believe that the word actually defines itself. A gentle man. And that essentially defines wh oJim Haus was. A Gentle man. He didn’t drink, he didn’t smoke or use bad language. And he was never in a hurry. Sometimes much to the chagrin of his family. Being a Non-Haus means learning to adjust to certain new time lines.
During one of my first trips here, it was announced that we were going to the Giant Eagle. I’m sorry, the G’ant Egle. And, being from California, I thought that meant that we were actually going to leav, so I grabbed my keys, and because it was snowing, went out to warm up the car and wait. And wait. and wait.
But eventually clan Haus did emerge from the house and we were off to buy the ingredients for something called ham barbeque. And something else called POP. Later we went back to buy sourcraught and other worldly delights that, being from California, I had never experienced before. Or wanted to, since.
I have also learned of the joys of a magical place called Frantagellos.
I have learned that if, after a family get together, good-byes are going to take place, one should settle in with a good book or tune in to NPR on the car radio, because this is going to take awhile. The Haus family loves each other so much, they just can’t say goodbye. During said goodbyes, they often repeat the same story that they just told each other an hour ago.
I have learned about snakes in the cockpit, the adventures of Uncle Harold, and can name all of the graduates of Moon high circa 1975.
I have learned to never call the house during a Steeler game. Oh, I’m sorry a “stiller” game. And, being a life long 49’ers fan, I have learned what it’s like to have a team actually play in the Super Bowl.
I have learned a new vocabulary. I have learned that it is actually possible to conjugate a pronoun. You has become you’ins.
I have also learned about this man called “Wow.” The ultimate grandfather. The man who, if he said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” And actually mean it.
A man who loves nothing more than to have his children and grandchildren in the house during the holidays playing music together and singing. Often to the accompaniment of his harmonica.
He and his family have adopted me as one of their own. I would like to thank the Air Force family who have taken in a former Navy man.
I have a theory. Jim’s love and involvement in aviation is well known. He flew his beloved C-47 in world war two even though he had his choice of flying high performance jet fighters. My theory is that being a fighter pilot would have meant flying by himself and Jim loved being around people way too much. I also think that he preferred flying cargo planes because I just don’t think that he wanted to use his flying skills to hurt anyone. He was just too much of a gentleman to use his love of flying to cause harm to anyone.
During his final days the hospital, a new doctor came to visit Jim. The poor guy had come to write the orders to discontinue the medical treatments that were keeping him alive after Jim had made it known that he had enough. And the doctor had never met Jim before. As the doctor introduced himself, Jim offered up a weak hand for a handshake and said, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” And he meant it. That’s the kind of man Jim Haus was. A true gentleman. He died the way he lived, in quiet dignity.
I’m sure that Jim is somewhere with his old flying buddies, leaning forward with his hand cupped to his ear taking it all in, swapping stories and reliving the glory days of flying over the hump. I’m sure that there is much laughter and through the laughter can be heard an occasional “Oh jeez.”
Wow, we’re going to miss you. We are all very sad that you’re gone. You have raised a fine family. You will be happy to know your family does act nobly in deed and word and that they do set a gentlemanly or, a gentlewomanly, example.
And, that I am a better man for having known you.
Thank you.
In response to a question as to how to define a gentleman, author Jerry Dollar came up with the following:
“I turn to the Code of Olde as embraced by the medieval orders around the world for an answer. It all begins with integrity; knowing who one is, what one stands for, and what one is willing to fight for. To be a gentleman is to know the world around you and the people that make it up. It is a deep felt respect for the thoughts and ways of others. It is to embrace the beauty of humanity, to find the good in all those around you, and to commit yourself to bringing out the best in those you meet while bringing out the best in yourself! To act nobly in deed and word is to set a gentlemanly example!”
I believe that the word actually defines itself. A gentle man. And that essentially defines wh oJim Haus was. A Gentle man. He didn’t drink, he didn’t smoke or use bad language. And he was never in a hurry. Sometimes much to the chagrin of his family. Being a Non-Haus means learning to adjust to certain new time lines.
During one of my first trips here, it was announced that we were going to the Giant Eagle. I’m sorry, the G’ant Egle. And, being from California, I thought that meant that we were actually going to leav, so I grabbed my keys, and because it was snowing, went out to warm up the car and wait. And wait. and wait.
But eventually clan Haus did emerge from the house and we were off to buy the ingredients for something called ham barbeque. And something else called POP. Later we went back to buy sourcraught and other worldly delights that, being from California, I had never experienced before. Or wanted to, since.
I have also learned of the joys of a magical place called Frantagellos.
I have learned that if, after a family get together, good-byes are going to take place, one should settle in with a good book or tune in to NPR on the car radio, because this is going to take awhile. The Haus family loves each other so much, they just can’t say goodbye. During said goodbyes, they often repeat the same story that they just told each other an hour ago.
I have learned about snakes in the cockpit, the adventures of Uncle Harold, and can name all of the graduates of Moon high circa 1975.
I have learned to never call the house during a Steeler game. Oh, I’m sorry a “stiller” game. And, being a life long 49’ers fan, I have learned what it’s like to have a team actually play in the Super Bowl.
I have learned a new vocabulary. I have learned that it is actually possible to conjugate a pronoun. You has become you’ins.
I have also learned about this man called “Wow.” The ultimate grandfather. The man who, if he said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” And actually mean it.
A man who loves nothing more than to have his children and grandchildren in the house during the holidays playing music together and singing. Often to the accompaniment of his harmonica.
He and his family have adopted me as one of their own. I would like to thank the Air Force family who have taken in a former Navy man.
I have a theory. Jim’s love and involvement in aviation is well known. He flew his beloved C-47 in world war two even though he had his choice of flying high performance jet fighters. My theory is that being a fighter pilot would have meant flying by himself and Jim loved being around people way too much. I also think that he preferred flying cargo planes because I just don’t think that he wanted to use his flying skills to hurt anyone. He was just too much of a gentleman to use his love of flying to cause harm to anyone.
During his final days the hospital, a new doctor came to visit Jim. The poor guy had come to write the orders to discontinue the medical treatments that were keeping him alive after Jim had made it known that he had enough. And the doctor had never met Jim before. As the doctor introduced himself, Jim offered up a weak hand for a handshake and said, “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” And he meant it. That’s the kind of man Jim Haus was. A true gentleman. He died the way he lived, in quiet dignity.
I’m sure that Jim is somewhere with his old flying buddies, leaning forward with his hand cupped to his ear taking it all in, swapping stories and reliving the glory days of flying over the hump. I’m sure that there is much laughter and through the laughter can be heard an occasional “Oh jeez.”
Wow, we’re going to miss you. We are all very sad that you’re gone. You have raised a fine family. You will be happy to know your family does act nobly in deed and word and that they do set a gentlemanly or, a gentlewomanly, example.
And, that I am a better man for having known you.
Thank you.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Mark Caplin male escort?
Living here is like living in a dorm or barracks. In the morning or, after work, I flip flop down to the shower. With my bathrobe from Indian Springs spa in Calistoga, soap and shampoo I head on down to the showers. So there I was, taking my after work shower, clean as a whistle, and I reached out of the shower stall only to realize that I forgot my towel. I knew exactly where it was in my room. Amazing thoughts went through my head. One- just run out into the 120 degree heat and get instantly dry. AH, bad idea. I was wondering if this is like a man-dream. You are in a stall in a bathroom, only to realize that you are in the woman's bathroom. I realized that there were other people in the shower. Can't go out now and embarrass myself. Could use my bathrobe; no, bad idea. What to do, what to do? I know, hide in the stall until I have the place to myself. Even if it takes hours. Luckily they all left. I peeked my head out and realized that there are paper towels in the bathroom. A 6 foot three inch red-haired, very white englishman takes more paper towels than you would think. Luckily they were the heavy duty type, so no shards of paper stuck to my nether regions. Yes, I am a dumb ass.
Wednesday was the day to go get my escort badge after the trauma of making them add an extra, third class and rapid fire lecture followed by a hard test. With the dreaded question #4. We arrived and stood in line and waited our turn. Steve got the young, efficient female solider. I got the 70 year old, hard of hearing sergeant. Really. I believe he served with Custer. Still had arrow wounds. And I had to yell through a small hole in the service window. Steve got his, no problem. Me, not so much. He must of checked the badges three times and couldn't find mine. Shit, I thought. I failed the test. Damn you, question 4! Finally the other two people looked and found my badge, no problem. As we headed back, Steve said that the worst thing about failing would be facing the staff at the clinic. As we backed into the parking spot I took my badge and put it into my pocket. "Tell them that I failed the test," I told Steve. He went in first and told the crew not to ask me about the test. I stormed in afterwards and slammed down the keys and went to my office. Then I pouted and ranted about that stupid test. Everyone started laughing and giving me a bad time. "It's not funny, knock it off," I said. Which made everyone laugh even harder. Then the people with orange badges kept asking me to escort them to different places and then said, "Oh, never mind." "Stupid question 4, how am I supposed to know what gate is open at what time?" "Stupid test." Now I sounded like Homer Simpson. This resulted in gales of laughter from Z, who laughed so hard, she had to go outside. The fact that she had drank 3 large Monster sports drinks, didn't help. She had a pulse of 110 that went up to 140 with her laughing fits. Which happened every time she looked at me. The poor retarded boy who couldn't pass a five question test.
I finally whipped out my card because I was afraid Z would go into SVT if she didn't stop laughing. Well, then we could use our new Lifepack 15 defibrillator...
Wednesday was the day to go get my escort badge after the trauma of making them add an extra, third class and rapid fire lecture followed by a hard test. With the dreaded question #4. We arrived and stood in line and waited our turn. Steve got the young, efficient female solider. I got the 70 year old, hard of hearing sergeant. Really. I believe he served with Custer. Still had arrow wounds. And I had to yell through a small hole in the service window. Steve got his, no problem. Me, not so much. He must of checked the badges three times and couldn't find mine. Shit, I thought. I failed the test. Damn you, question 4! Finally the other two people looked and found my badge, no problem. As we headed back, Steve said that the worst thing about failing would be facing the staff at the clinic. As we backed into the parking spot I took my badge and put it into my pocket. "Tell them that I failed the test," I told Steve. He went in first and told the crew not to ask me about the test. I stormed in afterwards and slammed down the keys and went to my office. Then I pouted and ranted about that stupid test. Everyone started laughing and giving me a bad time. "It's not funny, knock it off," I said. Which made everyone laugh even harder. Then the people with orange badges kept asking me to escort them to different places and then said, "Oh, never mind." "Stupid question 4, how am I supposed to know what gate is open at what time?" "Stupid test." Now I sounded like Homer Simpson. This resulted in gales of laughter from Z, who laughed so hard, she had to go outside. The fact that she had drank 3 large Monster sports drinks, didn't help. She had a pulse of 110 that went up to 140 with her laughing fits. Which happened every time she looked at me. The poor retarded boy who couldn't pass a five question test.I finally whipped out my card because I was afraid Z would go into SVT if she didn't stop laughing. Well, then we could use our new Lifepack 15 defibrillator...
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
"A Rose by any other name," unless you work for Dyncorp...
We are on the LOGCAP IV project. LOGCAP III is in Iraq. Dyncorp has other projects with other acronyms but we are LOGCAP IV. Says so right there on my return address. Now, I thought that if you worked for Dyncorp, you worked for Dyncorp and that we can take care of you. Silly me.
The phone rang last night before I got off, it was the Role 3 wanting us to pick up the patient that was medevaced to them. This is interesting because we track anybody that is going anywhere for any reason, medically. And we didn't know anything about this guy. The day before we kept waiting for a guy who was being sent to our clinic for evaluation of possible appendicitis. He kept bouncing around the country and was hard to track. We finally got word that he was here at KAF, but nobody could find him. Turns out that he had snuck out of the country and was in Dubai on his way home! How do you even do that? I takes two days of paper signing to leave on R and R and this dude just waltzes out of the country. It's all about who you know.And what country you're from. And what connections you have. The guy in the Role 3 was connected to the Army who took care of him, but when the Navy was done with him they saw his Dyncorp ID and called us. I called Dyncorp and they said "WTF? We no nothing about this guy." So after multiple phone calls we found out that he was in a "special" branch of Dyncorp and that they would be calling "Secret Squirrel" branch who would be along shortly. So I stayed in the clinic, eating popcorn and gave him a paper to read while I read my own copy and drank Gatorade. Popcorn and Gatorade, breakfast of champions. Oh, and the guy the with hand burns that was another medevac, that we lost and nobody knew where he was, but he was here, sitting in the Dyncorp human resources office, who showed up at the clinic at closing time, got tired of waiting for the Safety Rep. who should of talked to him at HQ, so he left. And the Safety person, finally showed up 30 minutes later, was pissed and gave me attitude and I didn't care.
Finally, Secret Squirrel and Morocco Mole showed up for my other guy and snatched him up, along with some water for the trip home to their secret hideout.
So, I got off an hour late. No worries, just another day at KAF.
Today we find out if I'm a male escort or not. Wonder what adventure that will bring? Probably nothing...
The phone rang last night before I got off, it was the Role 3 wanting us to pick up the patient that was medevaced to them. This is interesting because we track anybody that is going anywhere for any reason, medically. And we didn't know anything about this guy. The day before we kept waiting for a guy who was being sent to our clinic for evaluation of possible appendicitis. He kept bouncing around the country and was hard to track. We finally got word that he was here at KAF, but nobody could find him. Turns out that he had snuck out of the country and was in Dubai on his way home! How do you even do that? I takes two days of paper signing to leave on R and R and this dude just waltzes out of the country. It's all about who you know.And what country you're from. And what connections you have. The guy in the Role 3 was connected to the Army who took care of him, but when the Navy was done with him they saw his Dyncorp ID and called us. I called Dyncorp and they said "WTF? We no nothing about this guy." So after multiple phone calls we found out that he was in a "special" branch of Dyncorp and that they would be calling "Secret Squirrel" branch who would be along shortly. So I stayed in the clinic, eating popcorn and gave him a paper to read while I read my own copy and drank Gatorade. Popcorn and Gatorade, breakfast of champions. Oh, and the guy the with hand burns that was another medevac, that we lost and nobody knew where he was, but he was here, sitting in the Dyncorp human resources office, who showed up at the clinic at closing time, got tired of waiting for the Safety Rep. who should of talked to him at HQ, so he left. And the Safety person, finally showed up 30 minutes later, was pissed and gave me attitude and I didn't care.
Finally, Secret Squirrel and Morocco Mole showed up for my other guy and snatched him up, along with some water for the trip home to their secret hideout.
So, I got off an hour late. No worries, just another day at KAF.
Today we find out if I'm a male escort or not. Wonder what adventure that will bring? Probably nothing...
Monday, June 13, 2011
Sorry, my bad. Um maybe not...
I won't tell you when but once a week they test the alarms. They used to do it the same day at the same time but I think that they finally realized during the rocket attack alarm would be a good time for a real attack. I'm just saying. If the Taliban reads this, it is a TERRIBLE idea.
I had lunch with Bill, the new PA at another dfac and we took a drive around the base. As we got out of the car the " mass casualty alarm" was going off. I said that that is the alarm that we never want to hear for real. When we walked into the clinic we were told that it was not a test. Of course after awhile, rumors started flying. None of which turned out to be true. I wouldn't let anyone leave the clinic and turned on our emergency radio. I didn't hear anything. So we waited and waited. We have been told that they don't want people showing up at the Role 3 but it was all I could do not to go screaming down there. After 4 hours I couldn't stand it and snuck down there. Not much going on. I went to the control center and was told that it was a mistake. They forgot to announce that it was a drill and that they had received 70 calls about it. "Next time just call us," the officer in charge said. But you guys said not to both....Oh never mind.
I had lunch with Bill, the new PA at another dfac and we took a drive around the base. As we got out of the car the " mass casualty alarm" was going off. I said that that is the alarm that we never want to hear for real. When we walked into the clinic we were told that it was not a test. Of course after awhile, rumors started flying. None of which turned out to be true. I wouldn't let anyone leave the clinic and turned on our emergency radio. I didn't hear anything. So we waited and waited. We have been told that they don't want people showing up at the Role 3 but it was all I could do not to go screaming down there. After 4 hours I couldn't stand it and snuck down there. Not much going on. I went to the control center and was told that it was a mistake. They forgot to announce that it was a drill and that they had received 70 calls about it. "Next time just call us," the officer in charge said. But you guys said not to both....Oh never mind.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Fred Garvin, eat your heart out..
We are out of escorts. I put Karki on a plane yesterday for his R and R. I tried to shred his boarding pass but he caught me. Leaves one person to escort new people with the "orange badge of death." I was supposed to attend the class earlier but it was the same day that I left on R and R. Dedication is one thing but I waited two hours and the guy hadn't shown up so I was out of there. The class is every Saturday but you have to sign up on Wednesday which we didn't do. Steve B and I just showed up figuring that we could just negotiate our way in. Which we did. Sort of. We were told to come back for the 1030 class. Cool beans. We showed back up at 1020. The sign on the door said the second class was at 1045 so we had a cup of tea at the NAAFI, the tea shop in the same compound. We milled about with 20 other people and no one came down stairs from the theater where the class was being held to unlock the door. Around eleven some folks exited the door so we took that opportunity to go upstairs, only to be told that the class had started at 1030 and we were S.O.L Luckily one of the other people had taken the sign off the door and showed the angry Army Spec. 4 that the sign said 1045 and we had been there waiting. I also went into full tilt negotiating mode up to and including any bribe of an official of the United States or any other government to please do the class. Turns out all he needed was a pen. He reluctantly agreed because the sign did say "1045." He said it was a first that he did 3 classes in one day. He zoomed through the class at lightening speed, leaving he poor Indian guys in the class in the dust. And there was a written test. And it was hard. I think I passed but the Indian guys, maybe not so much.
We will find out the results on Wednesday. Who knows maybe it'll be, "Mark Caplin, male escort..."
We will find out the results on Wednesday. Who knows maybe it'll be, "Mark Caplin, male escort..."
Friday, June 10, 2011
Caplin, party of one. Your table's waiting...
Ok, so now I'm obsessed with this rapture thing. The world ends on my birthday, October 21. But, what time zone is God on? PST? EST? Zulu? GMT, God mean time? Or God's mean. Time! They say to look in the bible for answers. I looked, and... nuthin'. I looked for the book of Timex but couldn't find that, either. And does God wear a watch? Will he be talking to St. Peter and say, "Jesus look at the time, I've got a world to destroy, excuse my french.." Does he put "BRB" on his Facebook status? I know on the seventh day he rested, was he winding his watch? You'd think being all powerful, it would be self winding.
The country of Tonga's slogan is "where the day begins." Well, how's that working for you now? Can't be too good for tourism. People went there to see the millennium start, will they be there to watch the world end? How do you pay for it? American Express? Everyone who has one keeps telling me, "you have to pay it off at the end of the month." Isn't that why you have a credit card, in the first place, so you don't have to? But I digress. Me, I'm putting First Class tickets on my credit card and then saying a big "fuck you, assholes" to the credit card companies Teach you to charge me 27% interest. How you like me now? See you in hell. Plus we're twelve hours ahead of San Francisco, so can I jump on a plane and beat it back to SF and get an extra 12 hours? Kinda like Ground hog day? This is all very confusing.
Yeah, I'm going straight to hell, but at least my friends will be there. And the assholes from the credit card companies. We're playing poker. Jacks or better to open. And, sorry pal, no credit...
The country of Tonga's slogan is "where the day begins." Well, how's that working for you now? Can't be too good for tourism. People went there to see the millennium start, will they be there to watch the world end? How do you pay for it? American Express? Everyone who has one keeps telling me, "you have to pay it off at the end of the month." Isn't that why you have a credit card, in the first place, so you don't have to? But I digress. Me, I'm putting First Class tickets on my credit card and then saying a big "fuck you, assholes" to the credit card companies Teach you to charge me 27% interest. How you like me now? See you in hell. Plus we're twelve hours ahead of San Francisco, so can I jump on a plane and beat it back to SF and get an extra 12 hours? Kinda like Ground hog day? This is all very confusing.
Yeah, I'm going straight to hell, but at least my friends will be there. And the assholes from the credit card companies. We're playing poker. Jacks or better to open. And, sorry pal, no credit...
Maybe Bill Gates is the antichrist..
-I just heard that the rapture has been rescheduled until October 21, my birthday. Seriously? So, start sending those presents now folks. Why is it that if you tell people that you hear voices or the world will end you get put in the looney bin unless you say God talked to you and you have a radio show, then it's all good? This does not imply that you should not still send present, though. Can't be too careful.
-My cell phone is recharged with a calling card. I get 1000 minutes a month. I use maybe 10. I now am 2990 to the positive. Hello, God......
-I put in a request to have my air conditioner fixed while I was on R and R . They showed up 3 weeks later at 8:30 at night, stuck their hand up and said, 'you are good, sir, please sign here." Did God send you?
-I heard that in the true tradition of my alma mater, Stanford was 60 out of 61 to put in their request to participate in the student academic bowl at the national PA conference in Las Vegas, obviously they didn't get in (God's will) But the better news? My friend Kathy's alma mater, San Joaquin Valley College was 61.
-My friend Garth is here. I think that he maybe getting over the ,"Oh God what have I gotten myself into?" shock.
-Slow internet is the work of the devil. And Bill Gates. (Same thing? I love my MAC)
-I write myself notes to remind about stuff to blog. I have the following: FF, time off ambulance, handed phone. God knows what they mean.
-Wait I remember one. I was standing in the middle of the clinic. It was crazy busy when Z handed me the Bat phone. "Hello. I said. Who's this?" the other voice said. "This is Mark Caplin the clinic PA, who's this?" I said. "This is your ambulance crew, we have a 37 year old male having a seizure..." I didn't even know that they had gone a call. For the love of god....
-I had a firefighter come in who quit so he could got get medical treatment in Australia. He lives in Southern California. So his Chief called to get him un-resigned. But his injury wasn't that bad. And it happened two weeks ago and he didn't report it. Now he wants a worker's comp. claim. Turns out that he really met an Australian women on Facebook. And, well, you can figure out the rest. (Oh that's what the "FF"means...)
Sweet baby Jesus....
-My cell phone is recharged with a calling card. I get 1000 minutes a month. I use maybe 10. I now am 2990 to the positive. Hello, God......
-I put in a request to have my air conditioner fixed while I was on R and R . They showed up 3 weeks later at 8:30 at night, stuck their hand up and said, 'you are good, sir, please sign here." Did God send you?
-I heard that in the true tradition of my alma mater, Stanford was 60 out of 61 to put in their request to participate in the student academic bowl at the national PA conference in Las Vegas, obviously they didn't get in (God's will) But the better news? My friend Kathy's alma mater, San Joaquin Valley College was 61.
-My friend Garth is here. I think that he maybe getting over the ,"Oh God what have I gotten myself into?" shock.
-Slow internet is the work of the devil. And Bill Gates. (Same thing? I love my MAC)
-I write myself notes to remind about stuff to blog. I have the following: FF, time off ambulance, handed phone. God knows what they mean.
-Wait I remember one. I was standing in the middle of the clinic. It was crazy busy when Z handed me the Bat phone. "Hello. I said. Who's this?" the other voice said. "This is Mark Caplin the clinic PA, who's this?" I said. "This is your ambulance crew, we have a 37 year old male having a seizure..." I didn't even know that they had gone a call. For the love of god....
-I had a firefighter come in who quit so he could got get medical treatment in Australia. He lives in Southern California. So his Chief called to get him un-resigned. But his injury wasn't that bad. And it happened two weeks ago and he didn't report it. Now he wants a worker's comp. claim. Turns out that he really met an Australian women on Facebook. And, well, you can figure out the rest. (Oh that's what the "FF"means...)
Sweet baby Jesus....
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Note to self-I'm old...
I had an eye problem this morning. I just couldn't see going to work. Doing the job of four people with slow internet did me in. Plus someone kept calling my cell phone with a wrong number . Except for the emergency that I almost didn't answer because I thought that it was my new Afghani friend. I did see that it was the clinic number so I answered. Bill was at the clinic so he took care of it but I went up there to make sure that everything was good. And it was; and I was kicked out of my own clinic, so I went back to bed. That'll show 'em. Except for my new onset of insomnia. I could not physically make myself go to work. I was physically and mentally beat. I could barely talk to E on Skype. She must of thought that I was having a stroke. I thought that I was having a stroke. Except that would involve energy, which I had none of.
We are the hub for people coming and going on RnR. As they say at Delta,"If you're going to Hell or honolulu, you have to change planes in Atlanta." Well, if you are coming or going from Afghanistan, you gotta come to KAF. And Karki will put you to work. Even if it's your last day here. Gerald, one of our Medics had finished his year here. It was the day before he left to go on the freedom bird. We got an ambulance call. He jumped in took care of the patient, including in the clinic. Including changing his pants and cleaning him up after an "accident" from a seizure. Up to 15 minutes before he had to go to his flight briefing. This is the caliber of people that I work with.Why they let me in is anybody's guess.
I received a call from one of the medics about an early morning patient that woke him up. He had an ear ache. It was before sick call but the FOB medics will see you at almost anytime. He said it felt like someone was scratching his ear drum. He asked the patient if his ear felt scratchy. He said,"No it feels like something is scratching." J looked in his ear and saw something moving. He was able to grab it and get it out and put it in a urine specimen cup. There just happened to be an Army entomologist visiting the base so he took the bug to show him. It was a Red Army ant. (The commies are everywhere) A queen.
All together now,"Ewewwwwwwww..."
We are the hub for people coming and going on RnR. As they say at Delta,"If you're going to Hell or honolulu, you have to change planes in Atlanta." Well, if you are coming or going from Afghanistan, you gotta come to KAF. And Karki will put you to work. Even if it's your last day here. Gerald, one of our Medics had finished his year here. It was the day before he left to go on the freedom bird. We got an ambulance call. He jumped in took care of the patient, including in the clinic. Including changing his pants and cleaning him up after an "accident" from a seizure. Up to 15 minutes before he had to go to his flight briefing. This is the caliber of people that I work with.Why they let me in is anybody's guess.
I received a call from one of the medics about an early morning patient that woke him up. He had an ear ache. It was before sick call but the FOB medics will see you at almost anytime. He said it felt like someone was scratching his ear drum. He asked the patient if his ear felt scratchy. He said,"No it feels like something is scratching." J looked in his ear and saw something moving. He was able to grab it and get it out and put it in a urine specimen cup. There just happened to be an Army entomologist visiting the base so he took the bug to show him. It was a Red Army ant. (The commies are everywhere) A queen.
All together now,"Ewewwwwwwww..."
That'll teach me...
If enough people say "Gee, we haven't had a rocket attack for awhile.." Well you know. 0530 this morning. No casualties. Except for my caffeine deprived bunker mates. Some serious withdrawal symptoms happening. Good thing there was no Taliban around, they would of been done beaten within an inch of their life. "Sir, sir, stop hitting me. What is this 'Starbucks?' " Death by KAF badge. It could of been ugly.
Eight more days until Dennis comes back. Eight l o n g days. We have a new Internet provider here in sunny Afghanistan (it was 120 today). We have upgraded and now have slower Internet. I kid you not. Brilliant I tell you, brilliant. Actually infuriating, I tell you, infuriating. I was ready to make a sacrifice of an IT tech with rum and cigars. I actually went out to find another provider on base and pay for it myself. I have to answer emails that have medical files attached it take from people wanting to come back into country from medical leave. It used to take 30 seconds. Now it takes 30 minutes. Or 30 days, or 30 months, Ok I exaggerate, but it feels that way. Our email is up and down all day like a yo-yo. That's making me coo-coo. How Dennis did all of this prior to me getting here 'll never know. The man's a saint. Me, I'm getting cross eyed. Like a Saint Bernard. Drool and everything. Saint Mark, the angry patron saint of emails. "Sit boy, now fetch the coffee. Bad, dog that's tea..."
Eight more days until Dennis comes back. Eight l o n g days. We have a new Internet provider here in sunny Afghanistan (it was 120 today). We have upgraded and now have slower Internet. I kid you not. Brilliant I tell you, brilliant. Actually infuriating, I tell you, infuriating. I was ready to make a sacrifice of an IT tech with rum and cigars. I actually went out to find another provider on base and pay for it myself. I have to answer emails that have medical files attached it take from people wanting to come back into country from medical leave. It used to take 30 seconds. Now it takes 30 minutes. Or 30 days, or 30 months, Ok I exaggerate, but it feels that way. Our email is up and down all day like a yo-yo. That's making me coo-coo. How Dennis did all of this prior to me getting here 'll never know. The man's a saint. Me, I'm getting cross eyed. Like a Saint Bernard. Drool and everything. Saint Mark, the angry patron saint of emails. "Sit boy, now fetch the coffee. Bad, dog that's tea..."
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Too bushed to blog...
At the bottom of my signature block on my email Karki made me put "Acting Director of Clinical Services," as I am doing that while Dennis is on R and R. And I am exhausted because of it. I mean it's not like a voodoo curse curse caused by the email, it's me trying to do 4 jobs. How Dennis did it before me, I'll never know. He is Superman. Basically I am the liaison between OHS and Dyncorp. I have to send people out for medical leave then review all of their documentation and determine if they are fit for duty , then send out email clearing them to come back. As well as run the clinic, oversee sick call, do training, handle admin. emergencies and do quality assurance on FOB medic SOAPs. Waaaaa. Would you like cheese with that wine?
I usually wake up before my alarm. It goes off while I'm having the morning brew. Now I wake up to the annoying little beep. My kingdom for a snooze alarm. At least it's not the nice rocket attack lady...
I usually wake up before my alarm. It goes off while I'm having the morning brew. Now I wake up to the annoying little beep. My kingdom for a snooze alarm. At least it's not the nice rocket attack lady...
Friday, June 3, 2011
Potato chips, gatorade, an IV and blood test. Alrighty then..
I have talked about the "Contractor chic" look which I , of course, spelled wrong. I now have now seen the "contractor dork" look. You can tell us from a mile away. 5.11 pants, desert boots, and a fly fishing shirt. Very practical. But some guys have no fashion sense. Ok a lot of guys have no fashion sense. Not that you need it here, but why look like a dork in an airport. I like to travel in my traveling clothes. A pair of Levis, collared shirt with pocket and walking shoes. These guys have a collared, usually green shirt, shorts and desert boots with long socks. And they are always chewing gum. Very intensely. And loudly. Dude, really? Quitting smoking maybe. Good on ya. But some old dude smacking his lips with his white spindly legs and USMC hat is a little much. That look will definitely not get you laid.
The temp is well over a hundred and heading to 41 degrees C. We have to be on the alert for heat exhaustion. Drink water is our mantra. But not too much. 'Specially if you don't eat. And are driving a car. And crash it into a ditch. And then your friends throw you in another car and drive you past the Role 3 to us. The medical name is hyponatremia. The lay person term is water poisoning. Too much water, not enough salt. Tell the medic that you drank 5 bottles of water but then you tell me 15. Aha there's your problem...Normal sodium-135. Yours 128. That would be less than. This is bad, so we started an IV and I went down to the Role 3 to get you admitted. But they don't want you. There is a high tech, fancy smancy solution and then there's the Afghanistan way. Give him IVs, Gatorade and salty potato chips. One question-salt and vinegar or barbecue? We want to get this treatment right you know. Off to the PX I go. I sort of vetoed the potato chips, he was also dehydrated. His urine looked like orange juice. With a high specific gravity. Gatorade was on sale, so I bought 5. Talk about controlling health care costs. I don't even know what "obamacare" is but I don't think it involves Pringles.
The temp is well over a hundred and heading to 41 degrees C. We have to be on the alert for heat exhaustion. Drink water is our mantra. But not too much. 'Specially if you don't eat. And are driving a car. And crash it into a ditch. And then your friends throw you in another car and drive you past the Role 3 to us. The medical name is hyponatremia. The lay person term is water poisoning. Too much water, not enough salt. Tell the medic that you drank 5 bottles of water but then you tell me 15. Aha there's your problem...Normal sodium-135. Yours 128. That would be less than. This is bad, so we started an IV and I went down to the Role 3 to get you admitted. But they don't want you. There is a high tech, fancy smancy solution and then there's the Afghanistan way. Give him IVs, Gatorade and salty potato chips. One question-salt and vinegar or barbecue? We want to get this treatment right you know. Off to the PX I go. I sort of vetoed the potato chips, he was also dehydrated. His urine looked like orange juice. With a high specific gravity. Gatorade was on sale, so I bought 5. Talk about controlling health care costs. I don't even know what "obamacare" is but I don't think it involves Pringles.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Funny money honey
We don't have a bank here. We have ATMs One dispenses twenties and the other 100's. The 20 dispenser seems to be broken, a lot. I feel sorry for the enlisted guys who have to get 100 dollar bills on their salary. The PX will take an ATM card or an "Eagle" card which is a military ATM card, which you can use anywhere. Mostly, though, it's cash on the barrel head. When you come back from R and R they give you money. Cash. They call it your R and R reimbursement. I call it the " Oh thanks so much for coming back to this hot, dusty 'S' hole. We can't believe that you actually came back" money. On your second R and R you get twice that amount. What a job. Crisp 100 dollar bills. And nothing to buy. At the end of your contract they give you $5,000. I wonder if it's 50 100 dollar bills? Nobody bats an eye here when you hand them a C note. In the States they alert the Secret Service and have a drug sniffing dog smelling Mr. Franklin's face. Here, no big deal. I don't mean to flaunt my money. Ok, maybe a little. It's just weird having all of this cash. It's just normal here.
I put my money in a safe place. I put mine in a security envelope. Well, that's what it says on the side of the cardboard box. "Security envelope. 100" So it's got to be safe, right? These thin envelopes that you can't see through should thwart any thief that comes my way. And I hid it. I just can't remember where.
I was going to go buy a sausage roll but I'm short of cash and I did such a good job of playing stash the cash that I need a drug sniffing dog to find it. Hmmmmm, maybe I could borrow some money from another R and R returnee."Oh, you hid yours too? Did you check under your mattress? No, me neither. Damn those security envelopes..."
I put my money in a safe place. I put mine in a security envelope. Well, that's what it says on the side of the cardboard box. "Security envelope. 100" So it's got to be safe, right? These thin envelopes that you can't see through should thwart any thief that comes my way. And I hid it. I just can't remember where.
I was going to go buy a sausage roll but I'm short of cash and I did such a good job of playing stash the cash that I need a drug sniffing dog to find it. Hmmmmm, maybe I could borrow some money from another R and R returnee."Oh, you hid yours too? Did you check under your mattress? No, me neither. Damn those security envelopes..."
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