Crushed

I leave for FEX in the morning and all my gear is packed. I will board the bus at 3:30 am and when I disembark the air will be hot and heavy with dust; soon after my nostrils will be uncomfortably dry and my skin will be covered in a layer of dirt. I will be tasked with physical labor and will not shower for days. Sleep will be scarce. Men will yell around me, across me, and probably at me. And so to survive my Bag of Tricks must include a thought-set that will consistently distract and refocus me on something other than reality.

Enter the FEX crush.

Last FEX’s crush, a short squinty Lieutenant, took me by surprise. I was whisked away in a trailer for a few hours while I plotted and drew a new runway to replace one that had been notionally blown away. During that unusually quiet and almost peaceful time he sat across from me. He looked like hell: he hadn’t slept in more than 36 hours, was fueled by cheap coffee and crackers, and was justifiably frustrated with our evolution. But he was pleasant, easy, and often smiling nonetheless. He won me over.

A FEX crush is a crush of necessity and in that way establishes itself as something to be embraced. There is no shame or conflict. Indeed, it could be broadcast to the world if only the announcement wouldn’t be highly unprofessional.

This FEX my crush is a toss-up:

In one hand is a tall, highly unattractive but charismatic senior chief who is a strong advocate of a friend of mine. Advocates are rare because the action is seldom rewarded. It is an altruistic pursuit; it never earns points on an exam or improves a formal evaluation. I find it attractive. And another thing I find attractive, in the interest of full disclosure, is that I think this senior chief has a small crush on me.

In the other hand is a chief with salt and pepper hair, distinguished crows feet, and piercing eye contact. He is always calm, rational, and thoughtful. He never raises his voice or makes inappropriate remarks. He is a gentleman. Gentlemen are even more rare than advocates.

May the best man capture my temporary affection.

On the phone with my mom this evening:

Mom: I decided to have the sidewalk and driveway redone. And at first I thought... do I want to exclude companies that don’t have websites? But then I realized that everyone does so I did a web search and requested quotes on-line.

Me: You are from the future.

Mom: I know! And one guy just called me and said, “It’ll be $8,000.” I mean that’s it. That’s all he said. And then this other guy e-mailed me a unbelievably detailed quote that listed a 6” pad and 3/4” epoxy coated rebar and he gave me about a dozen references in the neighborhood.

Me: That’s the guy you want. A few hundred bucks in the short run is better than a new driveway in the long run.

Mom: I know.

Me: Just to give you a head’s up, after he places it, you want to keep your concrete moist for the first seven days; you can water it with the hose. The temptation is to think that you want it to dry out but you’re actually waiting for it to cure, not to dry. So water is good -- as much as possible for the first week.

Mom: That makes sense. So... where did you hear the scoop on concrete?

pause

Me: Well, I’ve been to concrete design school.

Mom: That’s right, you built a road in Alaska.

She really doesn’t listen, which is fine, because really... how many people that you talk to actually listen? But somehow I expect more of her because she’s my mother. I’ve told her about school before. And when I was in Alaska I talked about the project every Sunday when I called home but never mentioned concrete because we didn’t place any. Someday I’m going to internalize that she’s a person. She’s no different than anyone else. So she’s my mom. So what? It doesn’t mean that every breath I take is inherently interesting or even that what I do matters. What it means is that she puts up with me and expects me to put up with her.

And I do.

For the CO's Suggestion Box

Commander,

I would like to suggest mandatory training in the Microsoft Office Suite with a focus on Excel and Power Point.

The productivity of the battalion would grow markedly if, as a part of our regular homeport training or perhaps as a part of leadership training, we had a week long course on the Microsoft Office Suite. While most personnel are able to guess and check their way though Word, Excel, and Power Point few are proficient. A working understanding of tables, formulas, and filters would make task completion faster and easier for both the creator of documents and the receiver.

Very respectfully,

EA2