Unbelievable

I just stayed up until 2:05 in the morning to watch Jay Feely miss 18 straight field goal attempts in overtime. I'm going to go kill someone now. Goodbye.

The Latest

Birthday

Well, Saturday came and went last weekend and with it I turned 30 years old. I think I went into the whole "30" concept pretty even keeled, actually. In the end, it was not a very dramatic day. Still - there's always something more "alive" about the day when it's your birthday. At least I think so. Generally, I think I'm feeling pretty well. I actually feel better (physically) now than I did in the entire last year of residency - hell maybe last two years. Since I've moved out here and started a more stable day job, I've been eating better and also working out a hell of a lot more. I can see and feel the results of this. Even my rampant obesity problem is starting to get under control...

On the day itself, I woke up and Gwen made me a really good omelette. So far I've been unimpressed with the cooking of eggs (one of my favorite foods) in Europe. Gwen's omelettes are therefore the best I've had over here, and by far. They are something special.

We didn't do too much else during the day - I played some Madden (more later). For dinner we went to a pretty good French restaurant in town. After dinner, we scrambled to the movie theater in the sub-freezing temperatures (it has been ridiculously cold here lately). We saw "A History of Violence" which I thought was entertaining but uneven. It started out well enough, and definitely held my interest, but overall I question some of the things about it. And enough said about that, really.


Desert Voices

Well, it's official. Gwen has gotten her orders and is being deployed, which is no fun at all. See her site (linked to the right) for details. I think we're both doing OK with it. To be honest, I would rather go myself than stay behind and watch Gwen go. It was bad enough to say goodbye to big Pete. When Gwen leaves, things will be really tough. And of course she's understandably miserable about it. But we're both trying to keep a good attitude and perhaps channel the mighty Pete in that regard.

Speaking of big Pete, we got some email from him about Kuwait. It's good stuff - pretty funny if you know Pete and/or how the army works. Or even if you don't. Here it is:


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hello from Camp Buehring, Kuwait -

I guess this falls under the "mass email change of address" heading. Most of you know I've been deployed. Short version of the story is that I’m currently at Camp Buehring, Kuwait waiting for my brigade to receive it’s mission (Army speak for “to do list”) in support of OIF. For now, all we know is that we’ll be in the Kuwait/Iraq theater for the next year. From what I’ve heard from friends who’ve deployed, I’ll have plenty of time to keep you all up to date on what’s going on over here, as well as give you a bit of insight into day-to-day Army life. If you’re interested in getting updates, respond to this email, and read on below. (I’ll put together a distro list from respondents) If not, just hit the delete key. Either way, please feel free to send oatmeal raisin cookies to the address below.

CPT Peter Henning
HHC 2BDE, 2BCT 1AD
APO AE 09330

So what’s been going on over the last couple months?

Finished up residency in WA state early summer and have been running ever since. Flew into Germany late July to start my first post-residency “utilization assignment” (aka pound of flesh for all those education $ we picked up). I’m a Brigade Surgeon with the 2nd Bridage Combat Team which is part of the 1st Armored Division. Confusing? It was (and is) for me, too. Working at an Army Medical Center doesn't necessisarily prepare you for the "real Army", so I'm getting a crash course. The learing curve has been vertical, and the “lessons learned” could, and probably will, be a email in their own right. The rest of the summer and fall was spent “in the field” which is military speak for living in tents, playing war, drinking lots of weak coffee, and eating food whose sole cooking method is boiling water. (Tip: pass on the veal parm) Got back to home post (Baumholder, Germany) with just enough time to find an apartment, receive my household goods, and pack a clean pair of underwear before jumping on a plane for Kuwait.

Actually, “jumping on a plane” makes that sound a little too easy. Before any “jumping” could commence, things started with a mandatory 0250 (yes, 2:50 AM) formation. After standing in formation for 30 minutes, it was decided that this was such a smashing success that we should “fall out”, then convene another formation at 0650. In between, we drew weapons and waited. From there, we loaded buses, and went to a gym where we officially “checked out”, and then officially waited. Back on the buses to somewhere (I really have no idea, I was asleep enroute) where we were weighed in all our gear and waited. Getting the idea? Buses, somewhere, waited again. Buses, plane (5:30 PM now), Kuwait five hours later. Needless to say there were plenty more buses and waiting, all of which culminated (at 5:00AM) with getting to our tents and “baggage claim”. Ever been to the airport and someone has the exact same bag you do? Try that with 250 people who’ve packed a year’s worth of poop into identical bags. (Circus music here).

Enough for now...more to come. If you get multiple copies of this, it's b/c I sent to just about all of my contacts and may have a couple addresses for you. Let me know your preferred address.

Hope everyone has a great Thanksgiving. Will let you know how boiled pumpkin pie turns out.

Pete

-------------------------------------------------


Word on the street now is that Pete may be in Kuwait for some time before hitting Iraq (much more than the usual - like months). But who knows. I won't be posting too much about specifics on this thing anyway, per Army regulations. (I'm not too sure about my readers - I think some of them may have Al Qaida connections. Especially Iwan. Or maybe I just don't trust Canadians. But who does?)



Gwen is slated to leave in mid-January. We are doing some traveling prior to then to try and maximizer her remaining days. This weekend we are fired up because we are heading out to Austria and the Stubai Glacier for some snowboarding. They already have some snow and we are staying at a 4-star hotel - so either way it will be fun. Pics and stories to follow, of course. We leave this afternoon.


Tis the Season (yes, already)

Gwen and I put the X-mas tree up already. We did it this early because Gwen is leaving to do some training elsewhere in Germany starting Monday and she will be gone up to two weeks or so. The tree rocks. You can see early pics of it over at Gwen's site. I will save my full photo-expose of it for later in the season...


Etc...

So I won the Super Bowl with the Giants on Madden. We went 16-0 this time again, but this time didn't disappoint with a playoff loss. Then I had a bitch of a time keeping all my sweet peeps on my team the following year because of the salary cap restrictions and several hold-outs. Not to worry, though. Even though we lost some veterans, we'll be developing some fine young talent over the course of this season.


Also, after finishing up season 2 of Arrested Development (which is so awesome I don't know what else to say), Gwen and I netflixed Lost on the recommendation of some friends.

After getting through 4 episodes of Lost (disc 1), here is my take. Generally, I will say that the show is intriguing and I want to find out what happens. That being said, Gwen and I found several things about the show (unintentionally) hilarious:

1) In case you ever wanted to find out what happens when a plane full of really HOT people crashes on a remote island, here is your answer. Gwen and I can't help laughing at all the hot people, from the lead characters on down (with the obvious 'exception that proves the rule' comic relief fat guy). You've got the hot doctor guy. The hot main chick. The hot rich bitch chick with her ridiculously hot brother. You've got the "biker badboy" hot guy. The sensitive hot Iraqui guy. The hot Japanese couple. The hot pregnant chick. I mean...come on! When they argue or pout, it's even better. Angular cheek bones of Nordic models cut deep, apparently. And when they hike in the rain and every curve of everyone's body and face undulates as they climb up hills or whatever - it all feels like a thinly veiled fashion ad. Right down to the cosmetically designed 'crash scrapes' and studio-crafted "disheveled plane crash" hot hair styles that several characters have. HIGH-Larious, I say. We've actually laughed out loud several times about this. I think they really should have toned that down.

2)Some of the doctor stuff (main guy) is a little overboard as well. The guy's story about his surgery on a young girl (a solo pediatric spine sugery in residency?! Um...yeah) and his fear issues (count to 5 - it's fun!) was ridiculous; the story happens early and was so bad it just about made me want to turn the show off. Luckily it was only a small piece and eventually it's forgettable. But that shit right there belonged more on House M.D. than this show. In that context, some of the other medical stuff is bogus, which is I guess to be expected and with the exception of that one time actually isn't that big a deal.

3)This is nitpicking - but the "dun dun DUN!!!" drama points can be a little much. Definitely have to expect some of that in this show, and often times they hit it pretty well. But sometimes, like I said, a bit much. I really hope the show doesn't become ridiculously twist-heavy, but I fear that it will, of course. It just has that feel about it. Like 24 on an island.


Anyway, all that said, we are enjoying the show and looking forward to more. It does build suspense well and each episode has a nice overall pull to it to keep me interested. I think they are handling the character back stories well, too. So, anyway, more Lost coming up.

And with that, gotta run. Back to clinic and then time to hit the slopes. I wonder if the people in Austria would appreciate it if I spoke in nothing but a loud, obnoxious, Arnold Schwarzenegger accent at all times.

"Hey YOU?!? AUS-TREE-UH IS PRET-TY COO-UHL! NICE VERK ON DIS CONT-TREE..."

That's it - I'm trying it. I'll let you know how it goes...

Happy Thanksgiving.

Home on the Range



Guns Don't Kill People - Stup Does



This past Thursday morning, at precisely 7:45 am, I found myself at the military shooting range located just outside the hospital facility here at Landstuhl. It is apparently written that every member of the United States Army stationed in Europe shall "qualify" with a 9-mm pistol at least once every six months.

I was with my friend and colleague Jeff, and the two of us were adorned in our Kevlars (helmets), Flak Vests, and LBEs (Load Bearing Equipment). In full fatigues, we strolled up to the range to promptly get our kill on.

It was ridiculously cold outside - 36 degrees when I started the car that morning. I was wearing poly-pro under the uniform, but didn't have any gloves, which later proved to be pretty foolish.

Like all military activities, the day started with a ridiculously early arrival. Following that was the obligatory acronym-filled, mostly useless briefing by the NCO in charge. Then came the standard filling out of multiple harshly-worded, complicated and boggy forms. Finally, there was the prerequisite mind-boggling amount of sitting around waiting and doing nothing time. (The theme of "hurry up and wait" is pervasive throughout the military. For any given activity, you must inexplicably be somewhere by some obscene hour (sharp!) only to end up waiting another 3 hours for anything to happen. This happens every single time.) I used this two hours of waiting time to do two things. First, I picked up an unloaded 9-mm and practiced my shooting form for a few minutes. Second, and for far more of the down-time, I made about 900 jokes in Jeff's direction about how I was a 'straight killa', how I was going to shoot the gun gangsta-sideways-style, how I was going to say "Eff center of mass, I'm going straight head shots", how I was going to add-on to the M-16 range, how I was going to score 'expert', how skillz from Bond, Counter-Strike, and Battlefield Vietnam computer games were going to make it damn hard for me to miss a single shot, how today was going to be a good day 'cause I wasn't going to have to pull out my AK, etc.

That was basically the funnest part of the day.

(And, as it turns out, aiming an animated weapon with a mouse or playstation controller is a lot different firing a real pistol. Who knew?)

I had only fired a real pistol once before - in a highly-controlled firing session at OBC (Officer Basic Course - Hoo-ah!) in San Antonio in the summer after my first year of medical school. We shot at targets and didn't get scores or anything. As I recall, I didn't do too well that time, either - I was too freaked out by the oppressive rules and constantly screaming sergeants ("YOU WILL PUT THE SAFETY ON - NOW!" and "IF YOU ARE SPOTTED POINTING YOUR GONE ANYWHERE BUT AT THE GROUND OR DOWN-RANGE, YOU WILL BE REMOVED AND YOUR FAMILY KILLED!" and so forth) to actually think about firing the gun correctly. But that was long ago, now, and I barely remembered that time this past Thursday.

When it became our time to shoot, Jeff and I and about 12 other people filed down toward the actual shooting enclosure (think like a shooting range in the movies, but outside). Then we stood there and got the same lecture we got inside (but now standing outside in the sub-arctic temperatures). For about 10 minutes, we were told (again) some useful information to go along with the obligatory "make sure you point the weapon at the target" and "finally, squeeze the trigger to fire" commentary.

As it turns out, the length of that lecture was also about the amount of time it took for my hands to go more or less completely numb. Right after that, we filed into our stalls, received a set of earplugs, were familiarized with our weapons and got some final instruction (more useful this time).

To "qualify", one must hit the blackened figure portion of the standard-target at least 24 times (out of 40 shots) from a distance of 25 meters. The shots are taken from several different posititions. One begins with standing, then goes to crouching (feet shoulder width, knees slightly bent), then kneeling, and finally the prone position. There are a preset number of shots from each position, and you must reload the gun after each position.

Before actually qualifying, we all received five familiarization shots to get the feel of firing the gun. If you've never fired a pistol, it's a little more complicated than it looks, at least at first. There's the whole safety thing, followed by pulling the chamber back to load the first round - then you have to make sure the hammer is cocked back for the first shot (or you will be pulling very hard on the trigger which will take precious accuracy away) - and finally you have to pull just a little bit of slack out of the trigger prior to the full squeeze on every shot, again to prevent pulling the weapon while firing and to maximize accuracy. Loading, unloading, and reloading the clips isn't too difficult. As I did this portion, I kept imaging I was in the Matrix or something.

So we picked up the guns and fired our test shots. I was right next to Jeff, and we had the same NCO over-seeing our shooting. (Damn, was he about to be impressed with our mad skillz...) We walked down to inspect the targets - on my trial run I had hit the target (meaning the rectangle) with 4 of my 5 hits - and hit the blackened figure portion (which takes up about 2/3 of the rectangular sheet of paper, all told) with 3 of the shots. I felt good about that, I guess.

(More on the target: I couldn't find any good picture of the thing on google. Basically the black portion is a figure-shaped silhouette with concentric figure-shaped regions for different amounts of points. The 'center mass' spot is 4 points. There's a 3 point region around that, and a 2 point as well on the outer border. Interestingly, the head portion of the figure was only 2 points - which is what probably ended up killing my score. You see, I'm used to killin' execution-style...)

Then we walked back to the stalls and prepared to do it for real. I realized by this point that my hands were a) numb and b) shaking (probably from a combination of the cold AND my morning coffee.)

Finally, it was time to let the bullets do the talking. On the command of the head NCO, I picked up the weapon and started bustin' caps. The NCO behind me was trying to correct both Jeff and I, and he kept flinging out generic instructions, and sometimes more specific instructions. This was not a good sign. Furthermore, with the earplugs in and like 15 other guns constantly going off, I couldn't ever tell if he was talking to me or Jeff. So I would hear things like "aim higher!" or "too far left" after some shots and I couldn't figure out if he meant me or Jeff, so I just kept shooting.

One problem I definitely had was focus. It seemed like in theory it wouldn't be that difficult to take aim and fire the gun. In practice, however, my mind felt like it was in a thousand places. I kept thinking about how cold it was (my fingers WERE numb). And for some reason all these common sense questions kept popping up as well. Like, "Why the hell am I firing a gun at work - didn't I go to medical school?!". There was also the existential things like "Does trying to fire a gun well make me a bad person?" and "Is what I'm doing morally wrong?". Then came the realization, "this isn't like firing the Quake 3 Arena rail gun at all..." Finally, I was left asking for the millionth time, "Why did I join the Army again?". (Oh, Gabe, if you had only tackled and gagged me the day I walked out of the apartment to go swear in...)

While I was in the prone position, my over-sized Kevlar kept dipping down right over my eyes and made things difficult. Also, brass from the next stall over kept hitting me after being ejected up and sideways from that stall's gun, which was sort of odd and annoying. (I kept conjuring up visions of John Woo movies where shells are bouncing everywhere in slow motion.) After emptying my clips, I stood back up and put the gun on the table. After everyone else was finished and after we scoured the floor and picked up all our shells, Jeff and I were patted down for loose brass and ammo clips and finally went back to the briefing room and waited around until they called our name out to get our results.

It turns out we both sucked. I only hit 14 of the required 24 hits and thus my paper came back, in classic military fashion, with a gigantic "NO GO" scrawled across the front. Jeff did similarly poorly, though a little better. Somewhat demoralized, I wondered what the hell went wrong. I'm coordinated, right? It didn't seem like it was that hard - I think most of my problem came with a lack of concentration (not to mention numb fingers), which proved later to most likely be true.

So, having failed, Jeff and I and several other retards were told we had to have at it again. We were forced to suit back up, tromp back out to the stalls, and continue to waste more of the military's ammo. Ironically, we got the same 'basic principles' lecture in the freezing cold the second time around. As we filed back toward the enclosure and into the stalls for the second time, I kept thinking "Look out, 9-millimeter SHORT BUS coming through!" When I actually made the comment to my friend Jeff and followed it up with a snicker, I could see the range NCO (whom had overhead) just shake his head with a look of boredom-slash-disgust.

The second time around, I made it a priority to focus - mostly so I could just effing qualify already and get the hell out of there. (I have a very limited patience with most every military activity, even ones with the joke-potential of shooting a GAT and the like ). I also realized the second time around that I hadn't been putting enough counter-pressure on the gun while I was firing - this made a huge difference in the latter firing sequence. Even though my gun jammed several times during the second round, I did a hell a lot better.

When the scores came back, I had hit 29 shots and was officially qualified as a "Marksman". (Note - this sounds cooler than it is. After "no go" comes "marksman", then "sharpshooter", then "expert".) Jeff qualifed as well and so team-9-millimeter-short bus finally got around to rolling out of there. Unfortunately, however, I hadn't shoved my left ear plug in well enough for the second round of firing and as Jeff and I left the range, my ear was ringing (which annoyingly continued over the next 24 hours).

Later that day, it was back to work seeing patients in the clinic. An odd transition to say the least. And more proof that military medicine is a land of contrasts. I would say that the lesson of all this is that unless they find a way to program a soldier with a computer-chip and have me control him with a remote keyboard and mouse (or PS2 controller), we ('we' being all lovers and defenders of freedom) are all screwed if it comes down to me in a warzone being required to do anything with an actual weapon. Yes, it's sad, but it looks I'm just not cut out to be "smoking Haji" any time soon. I suppose I'll have to resign my NRA membership and it's unfortunately back to being a doctor, I guess. Sorry, freedom.


(Notes on that picture at the top: Yes, it's a real 9-millimeter. The picture is from my 2 weeks in "the field" back in August. I had to carry that thing around, blue tagged and all (as if I bought it from K-mart), everywhere I went - even to the bathroom. I even had to literally sleep with it - soldiers are responsible for their weapons at all times, you see. And no, it wasn't loaded. Nor did I ever fire it.)

All things, great and small

Gwen and I finished watching the special edition of "The Abyss" this morning. In doing so, we realized that one of the problems of being medically trained is that it can undermine the premise of certain pseudo-science fiction and also just shatter the credibility of otherwise suitably enjoyable dramatic scenes.

(Note - if you haven't seen the movie - don't read this little blurb.) In the infamous drowning scene, Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio's character is essentially dead and then brought back by one of two things. Either a) she's a "fighter" on a super natural level, or b)Ed Harris can literally yell people back to life. In the scene, she's drowned (why did they wait until she actually drowned to swim back?) and then there's a try at reviving her the good old fashioned way (with CPR and a defibrillator). She's out cold for at least 7 minutes, hypothermic and not breathing. Then, after they give up CPR and defribillation (was her heart rhythm even shockable?), Ed Harris suddenly gets pissed and begins yelling in her face and smacking her around a bit. This medical tactic proves to be the difference once he's finished throwing his fit she begins breathing on her own again. Everyone is all hugs and once again the rational scientific world is left out in the cold. Moments later, she's back to normal. (Never mind that even a real revival after that long would have left in her with irreparable anoxic brain injury - essentially relegating her to drooling vegetable or comatose status for the rest of her days). The whole scene made me think of what would happen if we tried that approach in the actual hospital. Say a patient had a cardiac arrest and all attempts with CPR, defibrillation, epinephrine, and the like failed. At that point, it would no doubt be time to bring in "the yeller" who can literally scream "Live, dammit, Live!" until the patient woke back up. I once knew a guy in residency named Jimmy who would be great at this - maybe we can get this incorporated into the next ACLS update....

(I think that scenes like the above are partly responsible for why we have a hard time explaining to some patients' families that their loved one isn't coming back - no matter how hard we try or hope)


(Additionally - the breathing liquid with oxygen in it - yeah, that's crap. Only House MD could make that work.)


Terrell Owens

Damn I have enjoyed watching this fiasco - and that's not just because I'm anti-Eagles and don't have Owens on any fantasy team. The sports guy sort of beat me to it, but I must agree that my favorite thing about this whole debacle is the fact that every analyst alive is crawling over one another to say what a jerk, bad teammate, and next Hitler that Owens is. I can't believe how preoccupied these guys are with being able to have a no-holds-barred antagonistic opinion of someone. Anyway, I can't really say it better than the Sports guy did. I don't mayhaps think the Eagles are to blame for this madness as much as he may - but I enjoy his dissenting viewpoint on it, at least.

Apparently Jesse Jackson and Ralph Nader are now getting involved, which is hilarious and ridiculous beyond words. We're still talking about football, right? I don't think it can become any more of a circus. (BTW, that Drew Rosenhuas speech was absolutely epic. Nice work Drew. You're a class act.)

Other Banal Issues

Well, last week came and went. We're amidst a four day holiday weekend (owing to Veteran's Day and a subsequent "training holiday"). For those curious, my Madden season continues to go well; the team now stands at 14-0. We've locked up homefield advantage. That being said, we've been here before. Only a superbowl victory can make it worthwhile.

I also started playing Prince of Persia: Sands of Time on the PS2, which is a sweet game. (I found it for 15 bucks in the re-sell bin).

Gwen and I have been watching season 6 of Simpson's on netflix. Season 6, of course, is in the middle of the Simpson's golden era - great stuff. We've also been watching a lot of South Park, also courtesy Netflix. I must say that my attitude on South Park has changed utterly from the early days of the show (back when I used to playa-hate it). I think the change sparked from seeing the movie initially (still a classic), and since then I've seen tons of episodes and always been fairly impressed. I don't think I've seen season 1 ever again since the beginning - I wonder if I would like it if I were to go back and watch it now. When it came out, I remember thinking that the show was all about going over the top and little else. They still do that, but they certainly have a style and wittiness to it that make it pretty damn entertaining.

Recent episodes I have seen include the "Towelie" episode, which was clearly written by them when they were high. I also love how they dedicate entire episodes to slamming individual celebrities they hate - for example the "Butt Head" episode and Ben Affleck. That was absolutely ridiculous. (Ridiculously effing funny, that is!).

"Towelie - you're the worst character ever..."


For the Love of Pete

Ugh, it's official. My boy Pete is on a plane to the desert. He left this weekend, off to Kuwait for a few weeks and then to Iraq. Apparently no one has told him or anyone else where he and his unit are headed once down there. Pete speculates that they ('they' being military higher ups) still don't even know. Without going off into an anti-army political tirade here (I'll save that for Gwen), I must say I was pretty bummed after I dropped Pete off prior to his departure. The good news is that Pete's life will probably get easier when he gets down there; his job sucks so bad now (all military medical administration, no actual medicine) that preparing to deploy is likely worse than deploying itself. If some of the rumors are true, then there's even a chance he's not down there for more than a few months, which would be great.

As far as I'm concerned, Pete is the man. I can't say that I've ever seen the guy in a bad mood (I never believe him even he when claims to be in one). He always seems a half-smile or quick joke away from making the best of any situation. He unequivocably makes any group of people he's around a better group - I can't think of a single situation in which having Pete along would be a detriment. (Hell, even if you were having intimate sex it might just help to have Pete be right there, happily chewing his gum, encouraging you - who knows?). Despite the fact that he's worked with a bunch of military-first hard-ass line officer fuckfaces since arriving in Germany, (who's mentalities and attitudes would have fucking killed the likes of me by now) he's still the same old Pete - quick with a smile and a joke and to light up your smoke and all that. I'm convinced that the military and more specifically "the line" will never break old Pete, no matter how much time he spends with them - because he's simply better than that. (But to hell with them for trying, I say). And of course Pete maintains the best possible attitude during the whole thing.

Pete rolled down on Friday night and several of us locals took him out to dinner and bought him a few beers. Then he crashed for the night. Gwen and I got him a Sony PSP with some games prior to his departure - mostly to help make the notorious "hurry up and wait" times for which the military is famous that much easier. Saturday, I took Pete around and we did a bunch of his pre-deployment errands. Before I officially saw him off, he handed me his will so that I can mail it to his parents. That's right, his will. (All this so he can be part of some bullshit war. Oh wait, I wasn't going to get started. Regain control, Michael...regain control....) Anyway, it was more than a little surreal. Not that I truly think anything will happen to old Pete. But you can just never know in a place where hate, fear and random explosions are so commonplace.

Anyway, I'll be in touch with him and will give updates when I can. We'll be mailing stuff to him on a regular basis from here. I'll get his address up once it's known and encourage him to make a need/wish list if anyone is interested in making his desert time a little more enjoyable.

With that said - Pete, my friend, you are a good man. Fare well, stay safe and Godspeed, buddy.



















Trier

Gwen returned from her week in the States on Friday. That night, Pete's taint cruised down and we all went out for a drink in downtown Kaiserslautern at a pseudo-meat-markety bar filled to the brim with funboys of both the European and active duty U.S. Military persuasion. (I should have brought the camera).

There was one particular pair of guys that we enjoyed watching immensely. They'd obviously come in together, but once in the place, they took separate tables next to each other. (Probably to avoid sitting too close together and therefore potentially having their respective "games" thrown off). They both looked like they had just come straight from the gym - all muscled out in tight expensive-looking shirts and gel-styled hair pushed into thick spikes to form a faux-mohawk-point of sorts. Then they ordered drinks and then...they just sat there. Yes, they were at adjoining tables, just sitting there and occasionally taking manly swigs of their beers, flexing as many arm and chest muscles as possible in the process. They uttered a word or two to each other maybe once every 20 minutes. The rest of the time they spent looking around, heads on swivels, concentrating mostly on staring at women while emitting their alpha-male pheremones and both keeping a 'Hello ladies, do you not realize how sweet I am?!' smug look on their faces. Classic.

Initially, I thought they may be waiting to meet other people. But no, they just sat there, having gone out together, barely speaking to one another and concentrating on their 'I am so unbelievably hot' poses. The only conversation came after one of them noticed a hot chick walk by or after one of them was amused by something on the background televisions.

All of it made me wonder what went through their heads as they were getting ready to go out for the night.

*getting ready in front of a mirror after showering after returning from the gym* "Yup, just set a new personal best on curls today. Time to go out and dazzle the ladies. (Again!) *laughs to self* I think I'll call Bill and see if he wants to check out this new bar. When we get there, we'll have a seat - but not too close (hell - we don't want people thinking we're goddam fags or some shit). We'll order some drinks, and then BAM - have to fend of all the fine bitches who want our sweet bods. " *mentally high-fives self while reaching for abrasive cologne with smug look, pausing briefly to flex and check out his biceps again when he inadvertently catches a glimpse of it in the mirror*

Something in their expressions honestly told me that at any moment they expected gaggles of women to assail them and start grinding on them right there in the bar. Then they'd be smugly appeased while grinning. (Ladies please, there's plenty of Lester to go around...) Astoundingly, this didn't happen. After about an hour and a half of sitting and not talking, they got up and left. What little we did hear was english - so they were military guys. The whole thing was classic. Pete and I were just shaking our heads. Again, I should have brought the camera.

Pete stayed over that night. The next morning we got up and took a little road trip up to Trier, which is an old Roman-era town about 70 miles north of us.

From Lonely Planet Germany:

"On the Western edge of Germany, Trier is a true highlight and well deserving of a visit. Along with Worms, it is one of the country's oldest cities, founded by the Romans as Augusta Treverorum in 15 BC and advancing to capital of the Western Roman Empire by the 3rd century. It is home to a fantastic collection of Roman monuments, and architectural gems from later ages, and gained Unesco World Heritage Site status in 1986. Trier's second heyday came in the 13th century, when its archbishops acquired the rank and power of prince-electors. In the following centuries, the town seesawed between periods of prosperity and poverty. It is the birthplace of Karl Marx (1818-83). "

We got a little bit of a late start to the day - mostly from Gwen still having a cold, but also from Pete throwing in his recently purchased Episode III into the DVD player. When we got there, we had lunch and then set about to walking around.

Unfortunately, it was like 45 degrees out and raining on and off, all of which made our pre-planned walking tour less than ideal. Regardless, we forged ahead and got to see a few of the cool relics.

Perhaps the coolest thing was the Porta Nigra, a large gate which was used as an entrance to the city.

Again, from Lonely Planet:

"Blackened by time (hence the name, Latin for 'black gate'), this brooding 2nd-century city gate is a marvel of engineering and ingenuity. Held together by nothing but iron rods, its design allowed the Romans to trap would-be attackers in the central courtyard, cleverly concealed by innocuous arched gateways. In the 11th century, Archbishop Poppo converted the secular structure into the St. Simeonirche in honor of a Greek hermit who spent a stint holed up in its east tower. "















After experiencing "The Black Gate", we cruised around and saw several of the other old structures - mostly old churches with combined Roman and gothic architecture. One church had this particularly morbid death statue sequence which have frightened the hell out of me if I was forced to sit through weekly mass as a child staring at this thing.



Young Me: "Mom, what happens if I don't pray hard enough?"

Mom: "Well, Michael, you see that statue over there?"

Young Me: *nods*

Mom: "If you don't pray hard enough, that statue will come alive and kill you while you sleep"

Young Me: *eyes wide with terror*




(We all enjoyed a laugh at these 'anatomically correct' cats)


Unfortunately, after the gate and a few churches, the rain picked up and the temperature dropped, and we decided to call it quits and hit up a coffee shop for awhile. Following that, Gwen wasn't feeling very well (and had a migraine), so we jaunted through a German department store (and admired their collection of man-thongs, which was disturbing) and then headed back to the car and headed home.

We had dinner with Big Pete in his little town (called Kusel), which is about 25 minutes away from where we live. After that, Gwen and I headed back home. She went to bed, not feeling well, and I played Madden.

Yes, the Giants are currently 7-0 in the next season, despite a rash of injuries and a few salary cap issues. I can say we are more focused this season, less concerned with stats and really all about winning that Super Bowl. The team is in a good place right now.

Trier was a pretty cool little place, and seeing all that Roman stuff made me want to play more Rome: Total War. We'll see what happens.

Oh yeah - one other thing. Prior to leaving the town, we walked through the main plaza and their was a carnival going on. This was fairly ridiculous, because it was like 45 degrees and raining out, but it was still actually pretty crowded. Amidst the crowd was THIS guy (below) who had a hair helmet that could crack a concrete wall. Unfortunately, my pictures of him are fuzzy - I had to rely on the zoom (which always makes things blurry) for fear that he would discover the truth of my picture-taking. And believe me, I didn't want to see the business end of THAT thing. Nevertheless, it was impressive. Enjoy.