Violent Traveler

Nashville

2006-05-07T21:37:00.000-07:00

The short valet is walking me to my car, and she asks me exactly what "Armor Officer" entails.

So I tell her I have 15 soldiers and 4 tanks that are my responsibility. That comes out to somewhere between 10 and 15 million dollars of equipment.

She asks me how long I've been in.

I tell her, "About five months."

"Wow."

Yup ... wow.

Derby

2006-05-06T04:35:00.000-07:00

Derby is the only reason I stayed in Kentucky past graduation, because I wanted to leave on a high note.

The closest thing I've been to is the tail-gating at a Harvard-Yale game. Unfortunately, the drinks were not free, but having the complete infield of a racetrack devoted to drunken debauchery and Mint Juleps may have made up for it.

There was a rumor going around that the $40 we paid to get in we paid in vain, because there was a 100% military discount ... but I never investigate further to make sure I didn't lose my sanity.

On the way out after the race, an Air Force crew chief and a Marine Corps Officer Candidate were arguing, so I manage to butt in as the token Armor guy present. The only thing we're missing is someone in the Navy.

From behind us, a woman calls out, "Hey guys, I'm in the Navy!"

The others brush her off, but I talk to her, an Ensign (the same rank I am, but in Navy-speak) in Georgia for training.

After picking up the rest of the group, we decide to walk from Churchill Downs to Fourth Street, which is 2, 4, 6, or 7 miles away, depending on who you ask.

One of the other officers sees a cab pull over ahead, and three men get in. He runs up, and soon the three of us are packed in, too, with a West Pointer who's out of the service and grateful to give us a ride ... even if his MBA classmates in the backseat don't share his enthusiasm for us.

Safety Briefing

2006-05-05T17:36:00.000-07:00

Safety

I just graduated Mounted Officer Basic Course, and during the signing-out I find out my paperwork is not up to snuff. Why I didn't expect that, I don't know.

So now I'm at regimental headquarters, tracking down the admin NCO who needs to fix it.

And I walk straight into the Sergeant Major's safety briefing.

Short like a dwarf with barely any hair left on his head, he's been in the Army for over thirty years. And right now, he's briefing the whole entire Squadron office on what not to do on Derby Weekend.

Most everyone is in the duty uniform, the woodland BDUs or the newer ACUs, with a few civilians thrown in. And in the back, the tallest one there, I stand in Class As all green and shiny and different.

He tells us the obvious: wear seatbelts, condoms, and helmets, but not at the same time.

Don't screw up your family tree by drunkenly impregnating an ugly woman.

Don't join hate groups, especially if you're a minority.

Stay away from the horses at Derby so you don't get kicked, and however drunk you get, you ARE NOT a jockey.

Then he goes around the room, asking everyone there to say something to increase safety.

He stops at me. I am one of two officers in the room. He asks me what I would have to say. I say something along the lines of, "Be careful of those around you; whether they say they've been drinking or not, they may do stupid things."

Accepted, he kept on going. But when he got to the other officer, the S1 Personnel Officer, usually a spot reserved for the officers who fail one class or are deemed unfit for Armor duty, he simply brushes past him.

After 10 minutes of joking with the 1st Sergeant, the briefing is finally dismissed and I go on my way.

Class Video

2006-05-05T08:33:00.000-07:00

Of course I was put in charge of compiling a video.

The beginning sucks unless you know what it means, and there are too many stills in this presentation for my liking, but unfortunately I ended up being the only cameraman for the course as other people's cameras met unfortunate deaths. And given 24 hours notice that it had to be turned in for approval (much less begun at all) I'll just say I could have made it better had I had more time ...

Class Video

Ten Day War

2006-04-29T11:26:00.000-07:00

A broken thumb, an infected spider bite, lots of missions, little sleep, and mud like you wouldn't believe.

That about sums up the Gauntlet. The steak dinner at the end was nice, except that the steak came from mermites (food containers that keep hot food hot ... and date back to Vietnam), but at the dinner we had four less officers than we started with, weeded out for retraining or reassignment based on leadership ability or other traits.

Having never drove a tank, I can give some hearsay advice as to what to avoid: When in the driver's hatch, beware puddles, unless you like being submerged in mud.

Trees you can knock over.

Mounds of mud you can't.

Don't get stuck, especially at a steep cant.

It's easier to crack a sprocket than you think.

It's true: throwing track sucks.

And whatever they say, riding back to the pad in an M88 (a recovery vehicle) is NOT a smooth ride, especially when it's towing your tank behind it.

Memory Lapse

2006-04-28T08:15:00.000-07:00

I'm in the hospital with a broken thumb that's too minor to fix and a spider bite that's infected, two souvenirs from our culminating Gauntlet, a 10-day FTX on tanks out in the woods.

And I'm waiting in the lobby with another Lieutenant, who came with me to get what he thought to be a bite checked out (when in fact it's a rash).

He asks me questions as if I've never met him before: What class I'm in, what part of the course I'm completing, where I'm from.

Aside the fact that we're in the same class and came in the same truck from the same location, he spent a few weeks in my Platoon. He seems surprised when I tell him I'm in his class, doing exactly what he's doing.

That cleared up, he begins talking about how he wants to go and be a leader of men in combat, how he wants to go from national guard duty to active duty the first chance he gets, and how he loves what he's doing.

I just hope his memory improves.

Going Urban

2006-04-09T20:23:00.000-07:00

"The man who wins in hand to hand combat is the man whose friend shows up first with the gun."

All logic aside, that's what the man on the Army Combatives video tells us.

And we beat the crap out of each other, first learning chokes, then grappling (with and without a tazer-knife), and finally full on battle royale that is so violent we're padded up like epileptic five-year-olds - with pugil sticks.

Next comes the paintball exercises at a MOUT site. Clearing rooms, setting up cordons, and getting the hell out of dodge while throwing in vehicle inspections and IED drills at our FOB.

And the culmination of this part of training is our Field Training Exercise (FTX), where we train at Zussman, a MOUT site frequented by NAVY SEALs and Green Berets. We set up in the "Embassy" and run missions for three days straight, with an Abrams and a Bradley for support.

But I can't stop wondering what winning in hand to hand combat has to do with who shows up first.

St. Patrick's Day

2006-03-18T08:14:00.000-08:00

When I walk into a bar, I expect certain things.

Beers on tap that a gas station doesn't carry, a knowledgeable bartender, and a socializing atmosphere.

When I walk into a Pub, I expect a few more things: Guinness on tap and more international selection.

But when I walk into an Irish Pub on Saint Patrick's day, I don't expect Sweet Home Alabama being covered by some kids younger than me on stage, and everyone enjoying it.

I'm as much a fan as Lynyrd Skynyrd as the next all-American, but there is a time and place for everything, and Bardstown road, the "Irish quarter" of Louisville, is not the place on such sacred a drinking holiday.

Louisville, thanks for ruining perhaps my last St. Patrick's day stateside for two years. Thanks a lot.

Barnacle Tactics

2006-03-05T18:27:00.000-08:00

Our instructor, an Army Captain, is stuck to the wall of a classroom.

He's impersonating a barnacle.

To get there, he told us what he was going to do, and sprinted into the wall with a violent thud.

After pausing frozen on the wall for a few seconds, he dismounts and explains his point: "Offense is about violence and speed. You do not want to be what I just was. Barnacles just sit around, waiting for a fight to come to them. Don't be a barnacle during a fight."

The class laughs, but in the back of our minds we realize that he isn't injecting comedy to avoid the truth.

After lunch two weeks ago he showed us a video of a wounded and unarmed American contractor being killed by insurgents at point blank range.

The point was clear: if it takes comedy to learn the doctrine, use it. But there is no comedy in fighting a war against brutal enemies.

Crying on a 737

2006-02-20T20:19:00.000-08:00

I get on the plane to DC and sit in the aisle seat of the exit row. The man sitting next to me is choking back tears, and turns to the man sitting behind him and says, "God, I feel like I'm a woman on PMS."

I don't think much of it. A few minutes later he turns to me and introduces himself. He's going home after a conference. He tells me about how he's divorced and his daughter has a soccer game tomorrow. But he also explains why he's so emotional.

At the airport bar waiting to board, he and his co-worker (the man behind us) met a retired Lieutenant Colonel in the Marine Corps who was involved with peace keeping missions in Somalia. If that doesn't sound familiar, he was involved in the real-life Black Hawk Down in 1993, where 18 soldiers lost their lives. As he tells me all this, he starts to choke up again.

"It's just so hard to deal with. The last thing he said to us before we left was, 'We lost 18 good men that day."

The rest of the flight he's drinking Jack and Cokes. I don't really have a way to respond. He doesn't realize that he's talking to someone in the military (I need a haircut soon to make me less incognito), but at the same time I don't want to mention it to him, because he would instantly praise me for my service. All 53 days of it so far.

I haven't been in combat, I haven't led troops, and I haven't sacrificed anything. Yet. And I would feel too guilty being given so much praise from a man who is obviously grateful for the men and women in uniform.

So I stay quiet.

And I listen to him talk about how he's the coach of his daughter's soccer team, even though he hasn't been around to coach for a while. The kind of stuff that down the road I may have to give up to do my job.

Gunnery

2006-02-17T23:03:00.000-08:00

When you fire a tank, you have to be sure you're not directly behind the main gun. As countless sergeants will tell you, when the recoil pushes the breach back, you better know where your elbows and knees are, or else you might get them shattered.

But that said, shooting at wooden pop up targets is pretty thrilling. Downrange are plywood cutouts designed to look like troops or personnel carriers (PCs) or tanks. Some of them move, but most are stationary. And with a little heating tape put on, they have a heat signature that thermal sights can pick up.

And voila.

The hardest part of firing is not pulling the trigger or getting a bead on the target, but remembering the fire command you (as a tank commander or TC) are supposed to call out. Something along the lines of "Gunner Sabot Tank Driver Move out" ... which tells the crew what ammo to use, who's acquiring the target, and what the target is.

After getting a range, verifying the hostility of the target, and the loader's "up" (signifying that if the breach would recoil, it won't hit him) the round goes "on the way" and hopefully splinters some wood far away.

After all this, sitting in the shack up by range control getting counseled on how we performed, the building shook with every shot ... even when the tanks were over a mile down range.

This is what I signed up for. Now if only they let us run over a few cars ...

Swimming Pools and M16s

2006-01-26T17:03:00.000-08:00

I got out of the pool after swimming 1200m, 400m of which I did with a "rubber duck," a rubber-and-steel replica of an M16 rifle, identical in weight and shape.

Me and the other LTs were drying ourselves off to rush to a morning formation when the Captain who ran our physical training informed us that we would wait until our last man was out. We each grabbed a rifle and started doing exercises with them: curls, presses, extensions, rotations.

A few of us must have been making funny faces, because the CPT caught on to our eagerness to get out. By now, only one of us was left in the pool, doing laps, but he wasn't quitting anytime soon.

"Two weeks ago my girlfriend broke up with me. I felt pretty miserable. But a buddy of mine called me one day after work and invited me over. We had a few brewskis and he put in Star Wars Episode III, and fast forwarded to Chapter 42 or something: Where Darth Vader, or Anakin, and Obi-Wan are about to battle it all out. And Anakin jumps at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan cuts off his arms and legs and Anakin falls into the lava and catches on fire. And my friend turns to me and says. 'That could be you! Your life isn't that bad!'"

"PT is a privilege. You should be smiling that you're here!"

And so we kept working out. Finally the last man climbed out and we all went home to shower.

We made it to the formation on time. Barely.

Standards

2006-01-25T15:57:00.000-08:00

As an Army officer, your standards of living are much higher entering the service than a private. No more (for us, at least) are the World War II barracks where twenty men share a common living area, and forty men share a bathroom. Instead, I get a private room, free internet, and free cable.

A friend asked me what lodging at Fort Knox was like. Because I'm on temporary duty (TDY) they put us up in "transient lodging." I told my friend that there are nice on-post apartments, so nice that they have a full kitchen, living room, study, and bedroom, for only $48 per night (but keep in mind that all our lodging expenses are reimbursed).

I pay $43 dollars per night. What do I get?

A large hotel room, with a two-stovetop "kitchen" and a walk-in closet that leads to my bathroom. But at least I get HBO.

But then again, so do the apartments.

Both options get daily maid service, but reports suggest the apartments get the nicer maids (ones that do your dishes).

But I can't complain. My lodging is directly beside highway 31W (which runs North-South ... so a real genius decided to put a W in there to confuse people), which makes leaving the post all the easier.

Soon I'll be talking about actually learning things about tanks ... and the proof that when one of our training NCOs said, "If you've played video games, you'll do fine" was much more accurate than I would have thought.

OBC: Week One

2006-01-08T19:12:00.000-08:00

The first week of OBC is done.

The first week included an Army Physical Fitness Test (APFT) where each officer is graded on pushups and situps each in two-minute tests, and then timed in a two-mile run.

Then it was off to briefings and paperwork. Finance paperwork, processing paperwork, life insurance paperwork, dental paperwork; we also received briefings on everything from ethics, expected behavior, to suicide prevention and dealing with combat stress.

The highlight of the week was actually climbing around and inside a real M1A1 tank. We didn't get to do anything, but at least we learned something useful for down the road.

Our class is mostly OCS graduates, with a few National Guardsmen (NG) and Reservists (USAR), along with two international students, one from Greece and one from Afghanistan. ROTC seems to be in the minority.

All in all, a pretty slow week, especially when you think the Army is all about blowing stuff up.

The weekend was slow as being stuck in a small and old class, many of the officers are either engaged or already married. Our big attempt to go out drinking Saturday night ended with half the group wanting to retire early ... we were back on base before 11 pm, when bars in Louisville don't close until 4 am ... obviously there are aspects my class has to work on before we leave here in a few months.

This week: Land Navigation, M4A1 (rifle) qualification, M9 (pistol) qualification, and a few briefings thrown in there somewhere.

Starting Officer Basic

2006-01-04T19:37:00.000-08:00

Officer Basic Course is not "basic" in the terms most people understand it. In fact, it seems few people even realize how an officer differs from warrant officers and enlisted soldiers (or that there even is a difference).

There are three main groups of people in the US military services today. The enlisted ranks have everything from privates to sergeants and sergeant majors (the latter two being non-commissioned officers or NCOs), and this makes up the bulk of the military in the sense that these are the people that get the job done.

Warrant Officers are specialized experts in very technically-heavy tasks; the best example would be being a helicopter pilot in the Army.

And Commissioned Officers round out the list. These are the managers, and start at second lieutenants (my current rank) and go through captain, major, the colonels, and then the general ranks. These are the leaders at the tops of units (commanders) and the planners of operations (for example: even though the military is predominantly enlisted (6:1 enlisted:officer), at the Pentagon it is reversed, being much more officer-concentrated). The commission comes from Congress, which controls the numbers of officers on active duty, and the three commissioning sources (ROTC, USMA (West Point), and Officer Candidate School (OCS; this is how enlisted soldiers become officers). All officers have a bachelor's degree, and as their ranks increases they increasingly gain professional military and civilian degrees.

As stated, since I'm at Officer Basic, the training we go through is much different than those at "basic," which is the name for enlisted initial training, the stereotypical breaking the body and mind down and rebuilding it as a soldier, seaman, airman, or marine.

Our classes do consist of physical aspects, technical aspects, hand-on aspects. But we also are trained in tactics, planning, and leadership. Because once at a unit, each second lieutenant (2LT) will be in charge of a tank platoon of fifteen or so men and four tanks. And his second in command will be a Sergeant First Class, an NCO with at least 10-15 years experience in the Army.

Just like my friends at Infantry Officer Basic learn all the different machine guns, ultimately it is not the officer's job to maintain or to fire the weapon; if he does, something in combat has gone horribly wrong for him. They must know the basics, but more importantly they must know how to lead the men who will actually pull the trigger in defense of our nation; it is simply the officers who decide when.

The Road to Kentucky: Louisville, New Years Eve

2006-01-01T19:52:00.000-08:00

I made it to Louisville by lunchtime, and parked in the Hyatt parking lot. I called ahead to make sure they had room. I walk in and am informed that they are not only full, but that the only rooms they have are for their New Year's party ... at $225 per person per room.

Standing in the parking lot making frantic calls to downtown hotels and not wanting to drive out to the airport hotels they recommended, I saw an SUV run a red light, get T-boned by a sedan, and flip over ... everyone was alright, but the intersection was crazy for a while.

Driving toward the airport, I started re-calling downtown hotels, hoping that someone canceled a reservation. Luck struck, and I ended up staying two blocks from the Hyatt at a Hampton Inn ... which even got me a government rate for the night.

Had a few drinks at the bar downstairs and got the lay of the land from the bartender. Then I set out: Steak dinner at Red Star Tavern, got a few recommendations for night's activities from the ladies in the next booth over, and I was off.

Little did I realize that after 9pm, I couldn't re-enter the restaurant and all the bars started charging cover. To kill time, I went to the Maker's Mark Bourbon Lounge, and inadverdantly bought a $47 glass of bourbon. Let me explain:

Bartender at Hotel recommends Pappy Van Winkle, but it's too high-shelf for them.
I see three different Pappies on the menu at Maker's Mark: the highest being $20 and 20 years aged.
I order said drink.
Bartender tells me she only has a 23-year old. I say I'll take it.
She pours the drink, sets it in front of me, and rings me up.
$47.00 comes up on the register.
She apologizes profusely.
I say I'll still take it (New Year's is only once a year, after all).
She tops off my drink because she feels guilty.
It was good.

Talked to a young married couple from Indiana, got some recommendations for later in the night, and left the bar.

Met up with a friend from college at a house party near U of Louisville. Champagne, dropping my camera, and meeting people ensued.

Left at 0100 to go to a bar ... I paid a cover to get in, walked through it, kept walking through it, kept walking through it, but seeing so many crowded rooms and bars, I realized I was too tired to go on.

The end.

Next: What is Fort Knox really like?

The Road to Kentucky: Day 3

2005-12-30T23:59:00.000-08:00

Today was all about detours …

I wanted to get gas at Ft Riley, Kansas, but the security guard (read: not a real soldier) wouldn’t let me on base without a decal and I didn’t feel like filling out paperwork, so I filled up at the Shell by the gate. And wow … did I forget how boring driving through Kansas is …

A few hours later, I wanted to eat dinner … I saw a billboard for a roadside eatery, followed the (bad) directions and got lost, only to find the restaurant under construction. I had dinner at a McDonald’s …it was so disappointing; I should have just stopped at a Denny’s instead.

I weighed my car in Missouri, fulfilling a mandatory step in Army paperwork .

And finally, driving into St Louis, I drove through it … into Illinois, because of incorrect directions from the hotel’s front desk … fortunately, this must be a common mistake, because the first exit has a lane dedicated to doing a u-turn and returning from where you came … and I found the Hyatt just fine. (Note: 1L Fiji water bottles are only $4 in St Louis as opposed to $5 in Denver …)

This Hyatt is built into Union Station, so its part mall, part hotel, and part club. When asking the on-duty concierge where a good place to drink would be, he suggested Maggie O’Brien’s across the street and a bar at the end of the promenade. When asked about the club actually attached to the building, he replied, “Oh. That’s a hip-hop club.”

Went to Maggie O’Briens, had two excellent Guinnesses (with clovers), a pint of Schlafly, a St. Louis microbrew, and finished off with a free shot of “orange”, the bartender’s concoction that he made for me and a few of his coworkers … a nice time out in a nice town. The bartender appreciated I asked for local microbrews, since some customers ask, "Got any beer from around here?" which is like asking a butcher if he has dead animals in the back.

Tomorrow: New Years in Louisville …

The Road to Kentucky: Day 2

2005-12-29T23:26:00.000-08:00

Woke up to snow in Salt Lake. Got breakfast, gassed up with 88 octane (again) at $2.119/gal and headed out.

Wyoming. The snow stopped, and the sun came out. I even passed a billboard for A & B Surplus, promising they could “fill all of my camouflage needs” … too bad I already had over fifteen hundred dollars worth of uniforms in my trunk.

I passed the continental divide ... while going uphill ... does this make sense to anyone?

I got to Rawlins for lunch. Ate at McDonalds, gassed up with 87 (finally! A touch of home!) octane at $2.249 and left … in the middle of a snow storm.

An hour of white-out conditions later, I’m done with the snow. And before I even have to deal with visiting Cheyenne, I turn south to go to Denver.

I saw the huge Hyatt from the Interstate, and figured I would try it. Little did I know that:

the Hyatt opened last week; it's brand new
they have really nice rooms, with an HDTV in every one
they have great promotions (like cheap rooms and free wireless internet)

I was sold.

I ran on a treadmill (a good one this time), and had dinner at their downstairs upscale restaurant Altitude (Denver … get it?) … good, but not worth the price.

Tomorrow: Let’s see if I can make it to St. Louis in less than the 14 hours google says it will take me.

The Road to Kentucky: Day 1

2005-12-28T23:17:00.000-08:00

I left home at 0930, making sure my chains fit before I left. Two and a half hours later, I was on the Donner Pass … and it was raining, negating any need for chains.

I stopped at Reno (or more precisely Sparks) Nevada to gas up my half-empty tank (87 octane at $2.389/gal). It was a Shell station that prided themselves on having an indoor restroom which was unlocked (or I would assume it was pride … they posted a sign that read “No key required” with enough explanation marks to make it seem they were excited by offering it). Bought drinks for the road (Starbucks Mocha Frappucino and a Arizona Sweet Tea, and tacked on a Peppermint Patty when I found out they charge a quarter for any credit card charge under $3) and off I went.

Four hours later, I stopped at a Chevron in Elko, NV, the “Home of Cowboy Poetry” … apparently in January they’re having their xth annual Cowboy Poetry convention … I didn’t see a building large enough for a convention, though. This gas station had outside bathrooms that were locked, and the deadbolt was tricky to work but I figured it out. But the food mart did not charge a quarter for under $3 purchases … Here I bought 88 (88 octane? Must be an out-of-California thing ... ) for $2.699/gal.

Three hours later: Salt Lake City, Utah (except for when a UT State Trooper was tailing me … but he didn’t pull me over).

Got a room at the Hilton, used their health center (crappy treadmills), and had two beers at Lumpy’s, a membership-only sports club a block away with HDTVs in every booth; I’m not sure if it’s the membership or the local economy that got me two pints for $3 each. If you like IPAs, try a Full Suspension if you get the chance.

Reflections on Los Angeles

2005-12-20T12:13:00.000-08:00

I fell asleep at an AFI screening of Dracula in September ... not one of the countless rehashes, but the original, Bela Lugosi badass vampire movie from between the World Wars. I couldn't help but feel ashamed as I left the theater that I had missed part of what is probably the oldest film print I will ever see projected. (The second being The Flicker ... I don't suggest seeing it if you're epileptic).

After nearly six months in Los Angeles it's time to wake up.

And stay awake.

I will remember Los Angeles as my final destination, something to inspire my return in a few short years. I don't want to remember the too-hot climate, the self-centered masses, the horrendous movie ticket prices, the horrible traffic, or the tragic failure of so many filmmakers turned waitstaff of remembering my order.

I'll remember ...

... watching a door get blown off its hinges on a sound stage.

... a sunset vigil on a beach.

... looking at puppies at PetLove.

... bagel Fridays and cake-days at Regency (and any other free-food/free-drink opportunity while at Fox Studios).

... turning down the first job I was ever offered ... with the hope that something better would come along.

... taking up the "something better."

... having a wrap party ... at 9am ... on a Tuesday ... at the dive-est bar in all of Valencia (or SoCal, for that matter).

... meeting an ex-girlfriend of Scott Peterson's.

... winning big money in Vegas ... losing big money in Vegas ... and the best (and most expensive) buffet you'll ever have (Paris).

... asking, "Are you kosher?" right after eating a hot dog ... wrapped in bacon.

... seeing William Hung, with the whole Arrested Development cast, shooting a scene during a tour of their stage.

... an agent telling me during an interview why he loves his job: Because he gets "to sleep with celebrities ... alright, B-list celebrities ... well, honestly, she was only low B-list, but I'm moving up!"

... living in four different apartments in as many months.

... three crazy Halloween parties ... and broken kegs.

... random lost Australians on Poinsettia.

... seeing Terminator 2 at the Arclight ... and trying to see Serenity later but four different fire alarms interrupting the show.

... Baja Fresh ... too well ...

... Pink's. And what a disappointment it was.

... Diddy Reise - always.

... shots of tequila poured into my beer when I wasn't looking.

... "non-toxic soap snow" at the Grove and the El Capitan.

... racing our Director of Photography to the Emergency Room to get some stitches ... only to return to set three hours later to finish the music video.

... getting hit on the head by a mambo combo stand - it floored me.

... VIP box seats at Padres stadium, with a bottomless fridge of beer and a never-ending grill of hot-dogs.

... coming out to my car and finding it buried in ivy that was most certainly not there when I parked it.

... dinners and wine with great company.

... open bars ... and apparently not much after that.

The next two weeks see me go from Los Angeles to San Francisco to the US Army Armor Center at Fort Knox, Kentucky. New Years will most likely be spent with strangers somewhere between Colorado and the Bluegrass State. And I'll be driving a new car (TBD) out on my road-trip.

There will be plenty more to write about once more exciting things happen to me.

And enjoy what sunshine you can, wherever you are. One of my first tasks at Knox: running two miles, outside, in the snow.

Why this exists

2005-12-19T16:03:00.000-08:00

Talking to friends it becomes clear that there are a lot of things that not many people realize about the military.

Walking down the steps of the Arclight in Hollywood, I asked Jean Picker Firstenberg, the President and CEO of the American Film Institute, if she had any advice for me as I was about to enter the US Army as a detour to coming back to Los Angeles in a few years.

She asked why I chose to serve.

The first thought to race through my mind was, Why shouldn't I serve?

A few weeks later, telling a producer why my stay in Los Angeles would be so short, she told me that I'm "too smart for the military." To which I thought, doesn't that mean I should be a part of it to make it better?

I've started this blog to show glimpses into a life that not many people know much about. Hopefully I'll be able to impart a few nuggets of wisdom through my words in the upcoming years, to give my friends and family an idea of what being an officer in today's Army is really like.