Perhaps the thing I hate most about living in Europe is that it makes being an NFL fan a complete pain in the ass.
I watched the Super Bowl last night (Monday here), which kicked off at approximately 1 am in the damn morning. Ugh. Having had a long and exhausting weekend, I shunned a couple of parties I was invited to and decided to watch the game miserably from my couch, where I knew it was likely that I'd be napping frequently.
Sure enough, after a flurry of first quarter turnover-based excitement, I found myself yawning more and more frequently until I finally zonked out by the mid-second quarter, only to wake up in a daze (and feeling like crap) to Prince's shimmying hips sometime near the end of half-time.
Last year, I remember watching the Super Bowl here in Germany, at a similar time, but at a friend's house. For Gwen's sake, I was rooting hard for the Steelers, but I remember it wasn't a very good game, being punctuated by poor quarterback play and horrid officiating. By about 3:30 am, I found myself in one of those "moods" one tends to be in when awake needlessly in the middle of the night - bleary-eyed and with headache - and I was even more pissed because I had stayed up so late to see such a mediocre game.
This year wasn't much different. The game was better, or more enjoyable anyway, but by the end I was extremely fatigued and of surly disposition, and found myself half-yelling, half-yawning things like "Just run out the damn clock so I can go to bed you assholes!" while rubbing my eyes in drained disgust.
I was in bed by about 4:30 am. Luckily Landstuhl was kind and gave us all the morning off - literally a Super Bowl holiday - but it doesn't mean that the game is any more pleasant to watch in the middle of the night.
This sort of thing happens all season long, and for the most part, all Sunday and Monday night football games are out. The one exception I make, of course, is for the Giants, and sometimes I can't even manage to watch them, especially if I'm in for a busy day at work the next day. And should I stay up and watch, and should the Giants lose, the depressed anger is amplified because I realize at 5 am that I basically stayed up all night to watch my team lose a football game.
The only other part of my Super Bowl experience that is worth relating is the fact that, like for ALL games I watch out here, I have to watch it on AFN (Armed Forces Network). So instead of getting all the normal Super Bowl mega-commercials (which I hate anyway, come to think of it), I have to suffer through something worse - hours and hours of mind-numbing AFN "ads", which seem extended somehow during the Big Game because there are so many damn TV timeouts.
So rather than watching hot chicks walk around with Dorito bags, I'm relegated to some Air Force Tech Sgt telling me about "Combat Weather Balloons" or some old hag reminding me, in low-budget video, to "eat vegetables every day". There are also a score of ads especially for the Big Game, which consist of NFL players thanking deployed service members for all they do. This is fine, though in standard AFN fashion, they are shown over and over again a MILLION times. (And I can only take Dallas Clark telling me how thankful he is for all that I do - at 3 in the morning - so many times before I want to punch him and every other player right in the face.)
I shouldn't complain TOO much (even though its fun) - I should be thankful that AFN even exists out here to let me watch the games at all. But its hard when forced to be awake at 3 am just to watch the Super Bowl.
As for the actual game, my favorite things were a)the size of Billy Joel's head during the national anthem, b)Rex Grossman being simply awful, and....well, and that's it.
I was too tired to remember much else.
Day 4
I had a great time yesterday.
The shin-dig for Medic Platoon 2-6 started yesterday at about noon-ish. Pete and I rolled in at 1:30 or so. The event took place in a small banquet hall at the Baumholder Golf Course. Within moments of walking in, I had a beer in my hand and was making the rounds talking to everyone, shaking hands, giving hugs, laughing and catching up. I was all smiles upon seeing the guys that I had spent nearly eight months with in Iraq. No longer armed, sandy and tired-appearing in dirty uniforms, these guys were now bright eyed, upbeat, and often proudly holding their small children.
The cocktail portion of the day lasted for a few hours, and then there was a short award presentation for some of the medics and NCOs who were leaving for other units. There were some pretty moving speeches for some of these guys, and at times it definitely got pretty emotional in that room. I found myself clapping vigorously at each award presented, feeling immense pride for recognitions well deserved.
After the ceremony, a bunch of us went out to a bar for a few hours, and then we headed back to the barracks where there was a keg. Pete and I treated whenever possible for the evening and we just had a great time. My PA Jeff and several of the medics got pretty drunk, which was incredibly amusing. Being in the barracks for a party was interesting - like being back in college but without any women.
It was pretty damn cool to see all these guys again, now, in this state. At times during deployment, I had seen them at their lowest, trying to make sense of death and destruction, sometimes with shaking hands and dusty faces having just come back from a mission where someone had gotten hurt or killed. And last night I was seeing them smiling, telling stories, enjoying themselves. Pretty powerful stuff.
I harp on this a lot, but I'm going to say it again. I have a lot of respect for those guys. As medics, they are forced into an ugly situation in Iraq, doing daily patrols in horrible areas. They have no say in anything, because most of them have low rank. They are the victims of our continuing bad tactics (i.e. continuing to "patrol until you get blown up", as we called it down there), trying to function in a situation that is simply an utter mess. They get paid very little. They complain at times, but certainly not as much as they are entitled to. When someone goes down, they run instantaneously to help despite the fact that substantial danger may linger in the immediate area. Many of them saved several lives, and many of them had good friends die mere feet away. There is a lack of pretention in these guys that is rather inspiring. To me, they are an impressive lot, and as I told many of them last night, if and when I see any of them out and about in the future they won't be paying for any of their own drinks.
I realized that almost all of my gnarliest "war stories" come through their eyes and their experiences. And if there is any "Band of Brothers" sentimentality to my own war experiences, then it definitely comes through these guys.
I took some pics of some of the guys I knew best. Some of the guys have myspace pages, and I've linked where I could find them. Check em out if you have a free moment - its a fascinating glimpse of the mentalities of the individual soldiers who are really fighting this war.
SPC Diebold
This guy led the platoon in being on the most patrols hit by an IED. He was hit 25 times, and unfortunately has hearing damage that will last him a lifetime. He's applying to school, wants to go back to San Francisco, and I'll probably be writing him a letter of recommendation. He's not a fan of the war.
PFC Brock
Brock worked predominantly in the TMC with us because a bad shoulder kept him off "the line". One of the best video game players I've ever known. We had many epic battles of Mario Kart in the aid station. (He usually won.)
SPC Fulcher
The best story teller of the bunch, this guy is hilarious. Tended to think he was Rambo. He would come by the aid station and tell us all about his patrols - I learned a lot about what the war on the streets was like from this guy. Was one of the medics on the scene when Doug got killed. Between he and Taylor (below), and by virtue of their horrendous patrol area, saw more horrible war-shit than anybody else in the platoon. By the same token, saved more lives too.
SPC Taylor
The biggest war hero of them all. This guy was put to the test several times and has nerves of steel. Just a stud medic. Was put in for a bronze star with valor for a specific instance of providing life saving care under fire and a secondary blast, but, because of crappy army politics, he didn't get it - which makes me shake my head in disgust every time I think about it. He's being featured in an upcoming documentary.
"Mister" Bailes
He's getting out of the army tomorrow and would be offended if I put his (old) rank. This guy used to run a restaurant and is an amazing chef. He joined the Army out of "boredom" one day and two deployments later, says he's regretted it ever since. One of the most thoughtful and insightful guys I encountered down there. An absolute pleasure to be around.
SFC Harris
Sgt. Harris was our platoon seargent, the head NCO of the platoon. I can't say enough good stuff about this guy. Just a class act and the gold standard of good NCO leadership. I have the utmost respect for him and the way he handled himself and the platoon down there. He also kept me from looking like an ass (as best he could) in front of infantry guys.
More myspace links to some other medics:
SPC King
SPC Gorman
SPC Iga ("Bridges of Madison County..")
SPC Boyd (THEE Halo 2 legend)
The shin-dig for Medic Platoon 2-6 started yesterday at about noon-ish. Pete and I rolled in at 1:30 or so. The event took place in a small banquet hall at the Baumholder Golf Course. Within moments of walking in, I had a beer in my hand and was making the rounds talking to everyone, shaking hands, giving hugs, laughing and catching up. I was all smiles upon seeing the guys that I had spent nearly eight months with in Iraq. No longer armed, sandy and tired-appearing in dirty uniforms, these guys were now bright eyed, upbeat, and often proudly holding their small children.
The cocktail portion of the day lasted for a few hours, and then there was a short award presentation for some of the medics and NCOs who were leaving for other units. There were some pretty moving speeches for some of these guys, and at times it definitely got pretty emotional in that room. I found myself clapping vigorously at each award presented, feeling immense pride for recognitions well deserved.
After the ceremony, a bunch of us went out to a bar for a few hours, and then we headed back to the barracks where there was a keg. Pete and I treated whenever possible for the evening and we just had a great time. My PA Jeff and several of the medics got pretty drunk, which was incredibly amusing. Being in the barracks for a party was interesting - like being back in college but without any women.
It was pretty damn cool to see all these guys again, now, in this state. At times during deployment, I had seen them at their lowest, trying to make sense of death and destruction, sometimes with shaking hands and dusty faces having just come back from a mission where someone had gotten hurt or killed. And last night I was seeing them smiling, telling stories, enjoying themselves. Pretty powerful stuff.
I harp on this a lot, but I'm going to say it again. I have a lot of respect for those guys. As medics, they are forced into an ugly situation in Iraq, doing daily patrols in horrible areas. They have no say in anything, because most of them have low rank. They are the victims of our continuing bad tactics (i.e. continuing to "patrol until you get blown up", as we called it down there), trying to function in a situation that is simply an utter mess. They get paid very little. They complain at times, but certainly not as much as they are entitled to. When someone goes down, they run instantaneously to help despite the fact that substantial danger may linger in the immediate area. Many of them saved several lives, and many of them had good friends die mere feet away. There is a lack of pretention in these guys that is rather inspiring. To me, they are an impressive lot, and as I told many of them last night, if and when I see any of them out and about in the future they won't be paying for any of their own drinks.
I realized that almost all of my gnarliest "war stories" come through their eyes and their experiences. And if there is any "Band of Brothers" sentimentality to my own war experiences, then it definitely comes through these guys.
I took some pics of some of the guys I knew best. Some of the guys have myspace pages, and I've linked where I could find them. Check em out if you have a free moment - its a fascinating glimpse of the mentalities of the individual soldiers who are really fighting this war.
SPC Diebold
This guy led the platoon in being on the most patrols hit by an IED. He was hit 25 times, and unfortunately has hearing damage that will last him a lifetime. He's applying to school, wants to go back to San Francisco, and I'll probably be writing him a letter of recommendation. He's not a fan of the war.
PFC Brock
Brock worked predominantly in the TMC with us because a bad shoulder kept him off "the line". One of the best video game players I've ever known. We had many epic battles of Mario Kart in the aid station. (He usually won.)
SPC Fulcher
The best story teller of the bunch, this guy is hilarious. Tended to think he was Rambo. He would come by the aid station and tell us all about his patrols - I learned a lot about what the war on the streets was like from this guy. Was one of the medics on the scene when Doug got killed. Between he and Taylor (below), and by virtue of their horrendous patrol area, saw more horrible war-shit than anybody else in the platoon. By the same token, saved more lives too.
SPC Taylor
The biggest war hero of them all. This guy was put to the test several times and has nerves of steel. Just a stud medic. Was put in for a bronze star with valor for a specific instance of providing life saving care under fire and a secondary blast, but, because of crappy army politics, he didn't get it - which makes me shake my head in disgust every time I think about it. He's being featured in an upcoming documentary.
"Mister" Bailes
He's getting out of the army tomorrow and would be offended if I put his (old) rank. This guy used to run a restaurant and is an amazing chef. He joined the Army out of "boredom" one day and two deployments later, says he's regretted it ever since. One of the most thoughtful and insightful guys I encountered down there. An absolute pleasure to be around.
SFC Harris
Sgt. Harris was our platoon seargent, the head NCO of the platoon. I can't say enough good stuff about this guy. Just a class act and the gold standard of good NCO leadership. I have the utmost respect for him and the way he handled himself and the platoon down there. He also kept me from looking like an ass (as best he could) in front of infantry guys.
More myspace links to some other medics:
SPC King
SPC Gorman
SPC Iga ("Bridges of Madison County..")
SPC Boyd (THEE Halo 2 legend)
Day 3
Today Pete and I are heading into the depths of Baumholder, which is home to the Second Brigade of the First Armored Division - better known as the unit I was in Iraq with (and the unit Pete still unfortunately has to work with). My specific (former) battalion, the 2-6 Infantry, is of course there as well. My specific (former) company, the HHC Company - also there. And of course, the medic platoon, which consisted of all the medics, Jeff, myself, our MSC Officer, and our NCO's.
Today I revisit those guys. Through Jeff and Pete, a little get together has been organized and so we're all heading up there to hang out, tell war stories, and drink some beer. Should be a good time - I haven't seen much of Jeff or any of the medics since "Re-integration" (great eerie military term) completed in mid-November.
I'm really looking forward to it. I certainly didn't love being in Iraq, but I do have many fond memories of those medics and I was always proud of the stuff they were doing, outside the wire, everyday, quite literally saving lives, often while under fire or near secondary IEDs, etc.
They are a good bunch of guys and I can't wait to buy 'em a few drinks and catch up. I'll bring my camera.
More on this in a later post - right now I gotta get going.
Today I revisit those guys. Through Jeff and Pete, a little get together has been organized and so we're all heading up there to hang out, tell war stories, and drink some beer. Should be a good time - I haven't seen much of Jeff or any of the medics since "Re-integration" (great eerie military term) completed in mid-November.
I'm really looking forward to it. I certainly didn't love being in Iraq, but I do have many fond memories of those medics and I was always proud of the stuff they were doing, outside the wire, everyday, quite literally saving lives, often while under fire or near secondary IEDs, etc.
They are a good bunch of guys and I can't wait to buy 'em a few drinks and catch up. I'll bring my camera.
More on this in a later post - right now I gotta get going.
Day Two
Man, this is going to be tough.
Got home a little while ago - just had time to shower and now its nearly time to go out to dinner and maybe a bar or two later. This is my ONLY window to post for the day. And I have to do this for a month? Yikes.
February 2nd is Groundhog's Day, which is important to me for two reasons. First, its my sister's birthday. "Little Mal", as she's affectionately known by my San Diego boys, and who probably remember her mostly as a happy-go-lucky little kid who was always running around the house, watching "The Little Mermaid" (seen by her, and by proxy me, no less than a million times), and who was fun to tease and wrassle, is 22 years old today. So happy Birthday Sis! Mally is currently finishing up college (at Baylor in Waco, Texas) and is applying to med school, and having several acceptances already, is waiting to hear from a few more schools before making her decision on where to go. She is nearly ten years younger than me - and the fact that she is applying to med school makes me feel old. It seems like only yesterday I was hot on the interview trail myself, styling about in a new suit and telling my interviewers how much I "liked science and helping people." But that's what time will do, I guess. So anyway, here's to Mal. She's the coolest!
Secondly, Groundhog's Day reminds me of the movie "Groundhog's Day", which is an epicly hilarious Bill Murray flick. Watch it.
So nice work on those two things. And with that - look at the time! I'm out!
See you tommorrow I guess....
Got home a little while ago - just had time to shower and now its nearly time to go out to dinner and maybe a bar or two later. This is my ONLY window to post for the day. And I have to do this for a month? Yikes.
February 2nd is Groundhog's Day, which is important to me for two reasons. First, its my sister's birthday. "Little Mal", as she's affectionately known by my San Diego boys, and who probably remember her mostly as a happy-go-lucky little kid who was always running around the house, watching "The Little Mermaid" (seen by her, and by proxy me, no less than a million times), and who was fun to tease and wrassle, is 22 years old today. So happy Birthday Sis! Mally is currently finishing up college (at Baylor in Waco, Texas) and is applying to med school, and having several acceptances already, is waiting to hear from a few more schools before making her decision on where to go. She is nearly ten years younger than me - and the fact that she is applying to med school makes me feel old. It seems like only yesterday I was hot on the interview trail myself, styling about in a new suit and telling my interviewers how much I "liked science and helping people." But that's what time will do, I guess. So anyway, here's to Mal. She's the coolest!
Secondly, Groundhog's Day reminds me of the movie "Groundhog's Day", which is an epicly hilarious Bill Murray flick. Watch it.
So nice work on those two things. And with that - look at the time! I'm out!
See you tommorrow I guess....
The February Experiment
Here goes nothing. I'm going to try something. Something sassy. Something crazy. I'm not sure what inspired it (maybe Iwan's blog?). I think I just want to try and post more.
And here it is: For the record, I'm going to try and post every single day in February. I promise nothing, of course - I might bail out by February 3rd. And I certainly don't promise a slew of meaningful commentary. But I'll give it an effort. Let's see what happens. (And its likely best to prepare for some uber-mundanity... "Today, I brushed my teeth BEFORE showering - can you believe it? " etc...) Hopefully it won't be that bad, but one never knows.
February is a good month for this sort of thing, I think. It's shorter, first of all. This month is also special (read: rocks) because Gwen is coming home and that'll be pretty effin' cool. I'm also still working on that last part of Eryn's trip (Yes, still. The trouble with that is the pictures need some re-sizing because they are all so huge [see the berlin pics] courtesy of my new camera. Also, I have video, actual video, of a club in Munich, so I need to get that up here somehow. So there's some technical issues. But its coming. Some day. I promise.) Then there's the Chamonix ski trip I never fully documented. Oh, so much to do. But with a post a day, anything's possible.
All right, with that I'm out.
If you're a Sports Guy reader, make sure and check out his Photo Diary of Media Day at the Super Bowl. It definitely had me cracking up a good bit.
Also, this is one of the last pics I took in Iraq. Bullet in my teeth. Bad haircut. Got it.
And here it is: For the record, I'm going to try and post every single day in February. I promise nothing, of course - I might bail out by February 3rd. And I certainly don't promise a slew of meaningful commentary. But I'll give it an effort. Let's see what happens. (And its likely best to prepare for some uber-mundanity... "Today, I brushed my teeth BEFORE showering - can you believe it? " etc...) Hopefully it won't be that bad, but one never knows.
February is a good month for this sort of thing, I think. It's shorter, first of all. This month is also special (read: rocks) because Gwen is coming home and that'll be pretty effin' cool. I'm also still working on that last part of Eryn's trip (Yes, still. The trouble with that is the pictures need some re-sizing because they are all so huge [see the berlin pics] courtesy of my new camera. Also, I have video, actual video, of a club in Munich, so I need to get that up here somehow. So there's some technical issues. But its coming. Some day. I promise.) Then there's the Chamonix ski trip I never fully documented. Oh, so much to do. But with a post a day, anything's possible.
All right, with that I'm out.
If you're a Sports Guy reader, make sure and check out his Photo Diary of Media Day at the Super Bowl. It definitely had me cracking up a good bit.
Also, this is one of the last pics I took in Iraq. Bullet in my teeth. Bad haircut. Got it.
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