Sign Off

Somehow, despite my wife’s visions of doom, we survived the apocalyptic visit of strangers to our house as the first viewing by potential buyers happened yesterday afternoon. Our realtor is on vacation so we haven’t heard how it went but at least the next door neighbor’s kids didn’t stage their planned protest of our potential move. According to their mother they have a plan to sabotage any viewing the house with antics guaranteed to caution anyone wanting to move in next to them. It’s so nice to be wanted.

As part of the viewing we had to remove the wonder pooch from the premises which turned out to be a late afternoon road trip for the two of us. I loaded him up in prime wind in the face position and knocked out a couple errands. He was properly appreciative and only had to be warned to get back into the car twice (a new record). We drove back to the house only to find the visitors still there. This meant an extended drive through the back roads surrounding our house which my canine companion adored. It was such a gorgeous day and my life has been so hectic over the past few weeks that I think I enjoyed the quiet drive almost as much as Buddy.

Home for the Next Week

This will be my last post before I go on a week long hiatus. My favorite son and the ABFA surprised my wife and I as well as the ABFA’s parents with the gift of a cruise to Bermuda last year at their wedding. I’ve never been on a cruise before so I’m not sure what to expect or how the high seas will treat a long time landlubber such as me. I’m not willing to pay sixty dollars an hour for internet access so I’ll be blog free for eight days (you are welcome). The more I think about it time usually spent blogging is better re-invested on the people I’ll be with and certainly more appreciated.

The Wingman is Back on Station

The highlight of the day was speaking to first the Cali-daughter and then my favorite son. The Cali-Daughter reported the return of the Wingman from an exhaustive but short series of concerts in England and Belgium. I could hear a little more lilt in her voice which his nearby presence always engenders. The son was equally pleased to serve as the guide for our maiden voyage and called to coordinate link up plans. I’m very excited about the opportunity to spend time with our sailing partners, the sailing part we’ll have to see about. Expect a long post next week reporting on my sea worthiness.

Both of these “kids” grew up as Army brats and I’ve always wondered if they resented not having a real home base but I know the lifestyle helped develop them into the independent people they’ve evolved into. My daughter sent me the following summary she found floating on the internet this morning and reported its pretty accurate:

10 SIGNS YOU WERE BORN AND RAISED AS A MILITARY BRAT

BY C-M "SPIKE" DAELEY

1. You’ve stood for the national anthem at a movie theater. As well as during that awkward moment when you stand up just to find off-base theaters don’t play it. (I recommend playing it off as a quick stretch.)

2. You stop for Retreat and Evening Colors. Remember cruising around a military base around 4:00-5:00 pm and everything grinding to a complete halt as “Retreat” bugled over the loudspeakers? Even cars stopped! Don’t forget Reveille at 7:30 am and Taps at around 9:00 pm.

3. High school graduation ceremonies on-base are like a military version of the NFL draft. As many graduating brats follow in their parents’ footsteps and enlist after high school, each student’s plans to join a particular branch are greeted with a deafening chorus of “Oorahs!” “Hooahs” or “HUAs”. The shouting gets louder with each new graduate.

4. You never quite know how to answer the question, “Where are you from?”

Since you’re always moving, you never really know if you should answer with where you were born, where you lived most recently, or where you’ve lived that’s most important to you. For many brats, home is often more of a feeling than a place.

5. You know firsthand how small the world really is. Once you’ve met a brat, you never know when you’ll run into them again. Just about every brat has a story about running into an old friend or acquaintance at an airport, a different base or duty station, at a new school, or even on vacation!

6. You have an instant connection with other brats. The similarities of growing up across the different branches of service gives us a welcome population of other brats to commiserate with, compare duty stations, and discuss the merits of each branch. *cough* Go Navy, Beat Army!

7. Your 10th birthday meant your very own ID. Ah, the Military ID: a golden ticket to the joys of base living. At the age of ten, this magnificent card of power became yours to wield. From then on, the card never left your possession lest you lose privileges like shopping at the Base Exchange or Commissary, or worse, find yourself stuck off-base!

8. You memorized your Sponsor’s Social Security Number at a very young age.

Emblazoned upon your ID card alongside height, weight and eye color, are you and your sponsor’s social security number. I knew my dad’s SSN as early as 6 (I still remember it) and had mine memorized by 8.

9. You’ve experienced the Little America that is on-base living. The Commissary: America’s way of thanking it’s military personnel for their hard work and service to the country. American products at competitive prices even overseas! Many bases also have partnerships with fast food chains and other restaurants to provide other comforts of home. As a spoiled teenager, being able to get my Cinnamon Toast Crunch all the way in Okinawa Japan, taught me just how great America really is.

10. You value diversity. Something that constantly comes up in discussions between my brat friends and I is the profound impact of meeting people from so many different cultures, races, and ethnicities. For many, the military is the melting pot of America’s melting pot