peas with honey

Phoenix Comic-Con.

There were a lot of weird people there...then again....I was there so that goes without saying.

 

I met Chris and his girlfriend Caron at the convention.  Now, Caron and Chris haven't been going out very long so it was a big step for her to accompany him to the convention.  Chris was really excited about the convention but he kept it pretty well under wraps because he didn't want to freak his new girlfriend out.  She was a really good sport about it because, you know, I just encouraged Chris to be more and more geeky.  I DID run around a little like an excited 5 year old though.  I mean, it was a convention full of toys!  Yeehaw!

 

When I first got to the Mesa convention center I noticed that there were a ton of teenagers dressed like anime characters.  Now, I have not read any of the comic books or seen any of the shows that they were trying to portray but these were some very amateur costumes that involved either (a) a lot of blood or (b) a neon colored wig.  A lot of the teenage girls dressed like japanese schoolgirls but with a lot of blood....weird.  A big group of kids ran past me being chased by another group of kids who were holding a "boom box" that played something that sounded like it was from a video game.  I'm really out of my element here.

 

I get my cool Saturday entrance badge with a cartoon character on it and wait for Chris and Caron in the lobby.  When they arrive, Chris tells me that the character on my badge is Spawn and that its drawn by Todd MacFarlane.  Now...that's about the only guy I've heard of in this whole convention and what I've heard about him isn't good...in fact I heard that he was a big jerk.  A douche to be more exact.  Chris, ever the diplomat, says that Mr. MacFarlane indeed was a douche to him but that it could have been that he had a bad day.  We enter the convention center and I see some stormtroopers posing for pictures.  I jump in and get a photo with them and, while putting my arms around their plastic costumes, notice that they are rather hot and sweaty under there (because humid, hot air is coming out of the black spaces between the storm trooper white shield stuff).  Ick.  Those storm trooper costumes are really authentic looking though. 

Next we go to a vendor who is selling Battlestar Galactica action figures.  I see an awesome action figure of a cylon centurion and ask whether they have any of Starbuck.  Unfortunately I have to settle for the cylon.  Actually, the cylon looks way more ominous and scary and I can picture putting it by my computer at home.  Yes...I'm an official nerd and I've arrived at nerdopia.  I ask the vendor is he has any opinion about whether Todd MacFarlane is a douche and he tells us that MacFarlane is a notorious douche and that he is one 24/7.

 

Chris tells us that the panel discussion with Aaron Douglas (Chief Tyrol from Battlestar Galactica) is about to start so we walk around to the conference room and eagerly take our seats (except for Caron who is just humoring us).  A lot of people have Battlestar Galactica t-shirts and I start to wonder why I don't have one yet...I mean really.  Aaron Douglas shows up and he is unrecognizable.  I mean, the dude looks like Grizzly Adams and he is wearing a black t-shirt that also makes him look a little like Jerry Garcia.  What happened to the chief?  He explains that he's on a break and that he is taking a break from shaving.  Yes...I gather that.  He just filmed a pilot for some show called The Bridge about a Chicago police detective.  Alright...enough of the blah blah blah...let's here what you have to say for yourself....cylon.  Yes...in the show there are characters who look and act human but who are really machines and Chief Tyrol is one of them.  It was quite a shocker when he was revealed to be a cylon....but I digress.  He drinks several beers and tells us funny stories about the set of Battlestar and he does a really great imitation of Edward James Olmos.  In sum, we all love the guy...even if he is a cylon.  Even Caron agreed that the guy was pretty entertaining. 

 

Afterwards we tried to find something to eat and the pickings were slim.  We really didn't have that much time because we had arranged to have our picture taken with Aaron Douglas at 3:00 pm.  I was hoping that there would be a food stand with food named after science fiction characters or something but no such luck.  I had a hot dog and a bottle of water.  [For which Mack chided me mercilessly on Monday.]  There were cars and different displays outside of the convention and we took a look at "Kitt" from Knight Rider and "Karr" [who is apparently the bad guy car from the show].  When I was stuck in Keller Army Hospital at West Point with sciatica and a herniated disc for a week, there was this orderly who would come by my bed to watch Knight Rider.  He knew when the reruns were on and he'd just take it upon himself to change the channel on my TV to the show.  He's come in all flushed and say, "Hey! Knight Rider is on!"  It was funny because I don't ever remember telling him that I liked the show or anything but it was hard to deny his great enthusiasm.  I've often thought how wonderful it would be to have a car that could drive me to and from Phoenix while I took a nap....  [If you caught the new Knight Rider, there is NOTHING good about it...Kitt is now a transformer or something...totally unrealistic now.]  There was a sign for a group of guys who called themselves the Arizona Ghostbusters.  Well..I don't really know what they're doing at the convention but I HAD to get a picture with those guys! 

 

Next we go through the comic book artists area and wait in line to get a comic book cover signed by a fellow named Talent Caldwell.  Now, Chris is a little star struck and he just sticks the comic book cover in front of Mr. Caldwell and, after its signed, turns to leave.  I jump in and ask him how long he's been a comic book artist and he has to think and he tells me 9 years.  I then ask him whether he's drawn Superman before.  He flips through his sketch book and shows us a really cool sketch of Superman and tells us that he used that sketch to show whoever at whatever comics that he could draw the guy.  Interesting.  Chris is totally silent but taking it all in.  I feel like a mom with a kid that has just met Mickey Mouse.  "Yes," I tell him, "My friend Chris loves Superman."  I look at Chris and sort of egg him on with my eyes trying to get him involved in our conversation.  Stick around and ask a question or two...prolong the experience a little.  Chris says nothing.  I end up with a lame, "you're very talented" and we leave.  I would never have guessed this but Chris is a little shy around these guys.  In different circumstances [like in front of Jon Hamm] I would probably be the same.

 

We get in line for our picture with Aaron Douglas and Chris and I are really excited.  I tell Chris that he should think of something to say to him...and Chris tells me that he always wants to ask a question at one of the panels but he can never think of anything past "you were really cool in...."  I think of that Chris Farley sketch on SNL where he interviews famous people and all he does is tell them how cool they are.  Its our turn and Aaron Douglas is very friendly...especially to me and Caron.  I tell Caron and Chris that I don't care who stands on the one side of Aaron but that I'm going to be on the other side.  We all sort of decide that it should be Chris because he's definitely the bigger fan.  But Aaron takes matters into his own hands and says "why don't I hug the ladies?"  Then he puts his arms around me and Caron and squeezes and Chris is barely in the picture.  Its hilarious. 

It would be very easy to crop Chris out of it and I WOULD if I didn't think he'd start crying immediately.  I tell Aaron that we feel like Chris Farley in his interview show and he gets it immediately.  I say "Remember when you were in Battlestar Galactica?" and he says "that was awesome."   Yep.  He's a pretty cool cat.

 

After the picture is taken we have to wait a while for it to be developed.  I figure that I need to get a picture of Chris with one of these weirdos and I see what I think is a woman with a bird attached to her shirt and a weird hat on.  I tap the person on the shoulder and ask if I could take her picture with Chris. 

It ends up being a guy!  A VERY UGLY guy.  Chris then threatened my life.  All in a day's work....

 

We finally get the print of the picture and I take it over to Aaron Douglas' signature booth area and he signs it for me.  Then I see a still shot from Battlestar Galactica and I shell out the $20 for the autograph and tell him to write "Dear Tanja, I am a cylon...sorry.!"  Which he does -- of COURSE HE DOES -- I paid him to.  Yeesh.  He tells me that'll it'll never work because he's just a machine.  Sigh...the story of my life.  I would definitely say this convention was a success.  We walk around and I see all the booths and even buy a Daredevil comic book that Chris insists is a "good read."  He was right about the Watchmen so we'll see. 

I'm an Actor...damn it!

Some of you may know already that I did a little acting in Los Angeles.  I got a few commercials, an agent, a couple of co-starring roles and a SAG card.  By the way co-star is pretty much a glorified extra in TV jargon....guest star is where the real money and roles are.  I took acting classes and even met one of my favorite people in the world in acting class (Jenn Yale).  I was in a few plays as well and even played Nurse Ratchet in a local Los Angeles production of One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest.  [I'm sure many of you will find it surprising but the director really got on me because I wasn't "menacing" enough and I even considered dropping out because I didn't think I could bring the "menace" enough to satisfy him at one point.  Luckily I found my inner "menace" and the production was a success...although I felt really jerky and mean after every performance.]

 

I did enjoy working on most of the productions I was involved in so my mother sent me an e-mail about a Stanislavsky acting workshop last Saturday at a local Tucson theater company.  It only cost $25 and was open to everyone so I thought, what the heck, and signed up.  Maybe I would meet some local actors and get some information about maybe joining a local theater group or something -- or even get involved in classes again.

 

I show up at the theater and have to fill out a release form (?) because they're going to take photographs and videotape the workshop.  ....ok......  I get a nametag with my name on it and am motioned toward the theater.  The stage has a lot of odds and ends on it and there is this small, roly poly guy in the front who shakes my hand and tells me that his name is Phil.  I notice how the theater smells a little like a thrift store...sort of musty with a hint of cat urine underlying it all.  I sit down and everyone seems to know each other, I introduce myself to this older lady who's sitting near me.  She asks whether I've taken any classes before and I tell her that I took some classes in Los Angeles at the Howard Fine Acting Studio.  She gives me a blank stare.  [That's actually one of the more famous acting studios in Los Angeles, by the way.]  She tells me that she used to act and then she didn't act and then someone asked her to act and now she acts all the time.  I give her a "you go girl" look and am about to snap my fingers when Phil tells us that class is about to begin.

 

Phil starts by telling us about Stanislavsky who is pretty much the guy who wrote THE book on acting.  He founded the Theater Moscow and really put his heart and soul into what it takes to be a realistic actor.  One of my acting teachers used to make us read from a translation of his book in every class.  I went along with it for a while because I really wasn't going to argue with this method since Alfred Molina sometimes attended the class (when he wasn't working...which was rare) and if he was willing to do it, then who am I to argue?  Now, I really admire "Fred" Molina -- (that's what he had us call him) and think he's a pretty amazing actor.  If you don't think so, just check out the firecracker scene in Boogie Nights...nothing further your honor.  Reading from Stanislavsky's three books got a little old, it often made the classes go beyond midnight and I rarely got a chance to perform so I found another class.  But, as usual, I digress....

 

Phil goes into detail about Stanislavsky's life and tells us a lot of stuff about his own training and how it takes 7 years to master the Stanislavsky system.  Phil tells us all how much he loves Tucson and how much different it is than Palm Springs, where he's from.  Phil then tells us some joke involving Anita Bryant and then he tells us all how he came out to his mother.  What does this have to do with Stanislavsky?  Also, I don't think anyone here (besides me and the old chick beside me) knows who Anita Bryant is and that she's made statements against gay people.  This seems to be a general affectation of acting teachers, they ALL like to tell us personal stuff about their sexual preference, their family problems (mother often comes into play) or their substance abuse problems.  Actually, I've never taken an acting class from an instructor that hasn't felt the need to tell us a lot about all of those subjects.  I also know way too much about one of my old acting teacher's dysfunctional relationship with her twin sister...yeesh.

 

He tells us that he's going to show us some exercises and has us bring chairs onto the stage and sit.  He has us stamp our feet and tells us to do it different ways (i.e., you're happy, you're angry, you're anxious, etc.).  What's funny is that I had run into my brother earlier that morning and he made fun of the fact that I was going to this workshop by saying that I was going to have to "feel like a piece of bacon" or "pretend snow is blowing in my face."  Well...he was right.  That's pretty much was Phil had us doing for the first two hours.  I almost walked out two or three times but stayed because I was too interested in what absurdity he would come up with next.  He then gave us each assignments and told us to take a break and he would call us up individually to "perform" the tasks he had assigned.  He told me to not speak but come up with circumstances where I would look outside a window.  Easy enough.  He gave other people speaking and non-speaking assignments and some people were by themselves and others were in groups.

 

After the break, the first group went up and their assignment was to have one person waiting to hear whether they got the death penalty or not and the other two should come in and convey, without speaking, whether the sentence was death or not.  Come on....really?  Who couldn't do that?  The two people come in practically dragging their lower lips [hmmmmm.....he got life?] and they come up to the waiting guy and they all start hugging and crying.  Then Phil asks them to do it again and to say only three words this time, "I love you."  [By the way, drama teachers ALWAYS have you go back and do the same thing over and over...it really stinks when you do something well because you can't stop thinking about what you did the first time and the second time is just a weak approximation because you're definitely not in the moment....in this case, they should have been really glad for any opportunity to do it over.]  Its not much better the next time but, someone squeezes out some tears this time.  Oh please.  The next group also has three people and they were given the assignment of having one person accuse the other two of something and they're allowed to speak.  They decide that one guy is going to accuse the other two ladies of stealing his dog.  The two ladies start the scene by "chatting" and when the one guy pretends to knock on the imaginary door, she gives us the super fake, explanatory statement of "oh...someone's at the door...I wonder who that could be?"  Is this a radio play where you need to describe what you're doing all the time?  We can see you lady!  She opens the door and proceeds to "indicate" her butt off.  Indicating is when an actor "phones it in" and doesn't really have any internal basis for what he or she is saying or doing but, instead, is very obviously just going through the motions.  [Sort of like Jennifer Aniston in every episode of Friends.]  In turn, the guy starts over-acting and pretending to be crazy [which I've learned is never a good choice because crazy people never think they're crazy] and puts his hand through the plane of the pretend door a couple of times.  This is some FINE acting.  I would have been kicked off the stage with those kinds of amateur stunts in Los Angeles (after everyone, including the instructor, laughed and laughed at me).  The funny thing is that all of these people consider themselves to be quite advanced and accomplished actors.  Now, I KNOW that I'm not an advanced or accomplished actor by any stretch of the imagination but I know enough not to make these ridiculous mistakes.  Oh well.  The next group continuously mugs for us and cracks jokes.  When Phil asks one particularly bad offender if he was trying to entertain us, he says that he wasn't consciously doing it but he may have been subconsciously doing so.  WHAT?  You need to go straight to the emergency room if you didn't consciously realize that you were acting like a complete idiot on stage just now!  What is going on?  I finally get up and it takes me about 45 seconds to go through the simple scenario I had planned.  I imagined waiting for a blind date and hearing a car door slam and looking out the window.......AND SCENE (going down on one knee, lowering head and pumping fist).  I didn't do the last part but the instructor seemed to like it a lot.  He asked me how I felt and I told him that I felt a little self-conscious at the point where I got up to look out the window.  He nodded.  I didn't really care at this point though because I had already realized that this group wasn't for me.

 

Next this young fellow had the assignment of pretending a bottle of water held poison and he wasn't allowed to say anything.  He slowly and weirdly walked across the room holding the water bottle (and by weirdly, I mean he walked as if he was on the moon or something) and stood for a long time with his back to us contemplating the kitchen set up (I think...his back was to us....) and then he opened this stage door and threw the water bottle out.  He then moon-walked (not backwards but forwards) over to the bed on the stage and grabbed a pillow and smelled it.  ?!?  Then he walked off.  What?  Everyone applauded.  I felt like I was in the movie Waiting For Guffman (without the awesome singing though).

 

At the very end Phil told us that he was going to start teaching a class and that we would all get e-mails about joining.  He told us all that he was "astounded" at the amount of acting talent there was in Tucson.  ???  Is saying "astounded" the same as telling someone that their baby is "breathtaking" when you really mean that the baby is ugly?

PF Chang Half Marathon.....FROM HELL!

Yesterday I ran the PF Chang Rock N Roll Half Marathon in Phoenix.  Yes...I'm probably the sole reason why the Cardinals won the NFC Championship yesterday.  You're welcome.

 

I hadn't really trained for it but I figured how hard could it be?  13.1 miles?  I regularly run 6 miles on the weekends and its no problem, no problem at all.  I have my little Nike plus ipod thing and whenever I finish my runs some famous person (Lance Armstrong or Joan Benoit) tells me how awesome I did when I run further than I did the last time.  I couldn't wait to see who would tell me how awesome I was at the end of the half marathon!

 

On Friday I picked up my number and "goodie bag" which was a bag full of junk.  There wasn't anything "good" about it because all it held was a bunch of coupons for stuff I didn't want.  Where was the free stuff that I hear all the Oscar presenters get?  Isn't running a half marathon a little more impressive than presenting some stupid award?  They really need to rename that thing.  At the runner's expo accompanying the number/packet pickup thingy, I got a really cool contraption to attach my ipod sensor to my non-nike running shoes.  I knew someone would come up with this thing...of course I could have done it with a little glue and velcro but I didn't mind shelling over a few bucks for it.  I couldn't wait to attach the thing to my Brooks.  My mother cut a little slot into the tongue of her New Balance and shoved the sensor in (with a few kleenex around it to pad it up).  It worked just fine. 

 

So, I'm all prepared.  Yesterday morning I got up at 0430....cheerfully.  As an aside, anytime I have to get up before 0500, I get really cranky.  This has always been true.  Even in the Army I thought that any wakeup before 0500 was just being spiteful and nasty.  I still think so.  But this was different.  I had to get on the road at 0515 and I needed to drink a Mack shake (one banana, 1/2 an apple, 1/2 a pear and 2 cups of orange juice) and get ready for my big run!  I get on the road and everything is fine.  I make it to Phoenix (Tempe actually) at about 0645 and am directed to a line for the buses that will take us to the start.  You see, we park at the finish.  We had these bags that we attached a little tag to that UPS trucks would carry to the finish for us so we could wear our jackets, etc. right up until the start.  In the line, I have to attach my disposable running sensor and this lady helps me attach it, etc.  I just sort of let her do it...I don't want to deny her the pleasure of helping me out...and I don't want to read those tiny directions.  I find out her name is Kim and she's running her first half marathon and she's a bartender and she wants to get a certain time and she bought new glasses for the race and.... OK.....ENOUGH.  This chick will NOT SHUT UP...and I end up sitting next to her in the school bus that drives us over to the start.  We're packed in like sardines and gas fumes are blowing into the bus as we drive.  I should have taken that signal and just jumped out of the bus right then....

 

When we get to the start I practically jump over people in front of me to get the hell out of the bus and away from Kim.  I think I said 5 words the entire trip.  Yeesh.  And I really need to go to the bathroom.  I have a small bladder but more than that I have an overwhelming need to go to the bathroom before I start things.  For example, I always go to the bathroom right before a movie starts (it doesn't matter if its at a movie theater or in my home) and I always go to the bathroom right at the start of Mack's workouts.  He regularly makes fun of me for having to go and says I have a tiny bladder.  Whatever....I don't think ANYONE wants me to urinate in the middle of carpet during class....or worse.  There are about 50 port-a-potties in a row and the lines are crazy long.  I get into what I hope is a fast line and wait.  There are people behind me that are walking the race and they have way more gear than your average FULL marathon runner.  I felt like reminding them that they're WALKING this...what do they really think is going to happen to them on this course?  I consider my gear (very old Cape May t-shirt, spandex running tights, sportsbra, a cotton headband and ipod).  I need more stuff.  Maybe a cape?  Some lightening bolts drawn on my legs?  It takes about 30 minutes to get to the front of the line and then I find out that there is no more toilet paper in our porta-potties.  What?  I wait for a guy to get out of the one next to us and I jump in and beg some toilet paper off of him.  I'm not proud when it comes to this kind of stuff....I NEED toilet paper.

 

I go, PHEW, and run out and take off my sweatshirt and put it in my bag and give it to the appropriate UPS truck (the trucks are assigned by last name).  Then someone says the race has started and people start running toward the race area.  I'm assigned to corral 20 which, I find out, is where really slow people are.  I figure, whatever, and go towards my corral.  They're 26 corrals total.  I find my corral and there are a bunch of chicks with shirts indicating that they're bridesmaids and there is one bride girl. They are all giggling excitedly...this could get old really fast.  I also notice that these girls are really really young and a lot of them still have acne-riddled faces.  Are these girls in high school?  Am I really so old that I think this way?  Someone tells me that I have the same shoes they do and I tell them they have great taste.  It takes another 40 minutes or so for my "loser" corral to reach the start line and we're off.  I'm running right past where I work and feeling good.  I'm passing people who're running really slow and some people walking.  The walking people had a tendency to walk side by side and take up a lot of room...so annoying. 

 

There are bands all along the way to "entertain and encourage" us.  The first band has a Buddy Holly theme and the singer is wearing a poodle skirt.  That's pretty fun.  At mile 1 I see a row of porta-potties.  I think about going but figure I can hold out of another mile or so.  At mile 2 there are no porta-potties.  Of course.  I spot two behind the band stand at mile 2.5 and I run around and find a long line.  I have no idea where the next ones are so I wait....for 20 minutes.  Thankfully they had toilet paper.  I know that my time is screwed now but I'm glad I got that out of my system (Ha! Get it?).  I press my ipod and realize that my sensor isn't working because it thinks that I've only run .25 mile.  Great.  At mile 3 there are two guys dressed like Elvis.  At about mile 3.5 there is a row of cheerleaders who form a sort of tunnel with their pom poms and I run through it like I'm a high school football player.  This isn't so bad.  I'm enjoying reading all of these people's ridiculous t-shirts.  I wish that I had written something on the back of my shirt like "quit looking at my butt" or "get your eyes back on the road sicko" or " nothing to read here, move on" or "Hey walkers! Stop walking side by side!  You're being jerks to those of us who are real participants!"  At mile 6, the [apparently] alternative band is wearing bunny costumes.  Too bad they can't sing.   I'm skirting the edge of Scottsdale now and heading south towards Tempe.  Almost halfway there!  Feeling fine.  At mile 8, I start to feel sort of achy.  My hips are hurting a little and I'm just sort of feeling creaky.  At mile 9, I'm starting to hurt and the pounding of my legs on the asphalt is really, really unpleasant.  Some group has a sign up that says "Only 4.1 miles to go!"  What?!?  I've got to feel this way for another 4.1 miles?  I don't know about this anymore.  At mile 10 I'm running near the edge and a group of cheerleaders tries to yell encouragement....I tell them to shove it.  I'm really starting to get mad at these spectators.  What do they know?  I feel like I'm pounding my joints into their sockets and I can't stop because if I do I KNOW I'll never start up again and it'll take me that much longer for this to be over.  I realize that I REALLY HATE THIS.  It's not fun at all and I decide that I don't like anyone involved in this whole spectacle.  At mile 11 people are cheering me and I tell them to "SHUT UP!"  A little boy tries to give me a high five and I give him the bird.  I'm raving mad now...this is a horrible experience and my bones hurt.  My lungs, stomach and bowels are just fine but its my hips, knees and ankles.  I hate this.  At mile 12, I've developed a really mean look and people just leave me alone.  At mile 13 I decide to speed it up and get that last .1 over with and I pretty much shove people out of the way to get to the end.  I pass over the finish line and hobble over to get some water....which is warm.  Geez!  Then they give me a finishers medal to put over my neck and I complain because its too heavy.  I STILL hate this race and all these people!  I walk over and get a bunch of free food and start to feel a little better (free stuff always makes me feel better).  Then I hobble over and get my UPS bag and this little kid gives me my bag and it takes all the strength I can muster to say "Thank you" without yelling at him.

 

When I get to my car and my cell phone, my mother says that next time we'll train together and it'll be better.  NEXT TIME?  I burst into insane laughter...haahahahahahahaha.....[sort of Heath Ledger as the Joker type laughter].  Yes, I had exactly the opposite reaction to the supposed inspiration and pride that most people feel after accomplishing something like a half marathon.  I went home and spent the rest of the day lying in bed and eating cookies.

Some Useful Things I Learned In The Military

1.  A "johnson" is a penis but a "dick" can be a verb, noun or adjective loosely meaning a jerk.  When dick is used to describe something that happened to your shoe shine it is referring to a scuff.  For example, you wouldn't call a guy a "johnson," he has a "johnson."  He could very well be a dick though.

 

2.  Never volunteer for anything.  Its the Army.  They don't NEED any volunteers.  They can make you do anything they want.  The only reason they ask for volunteers is so they can laugh at you for raising your hand.

 

3.  Contrary to what you learned in "Full Metal Jacket," a "gun" is not a "johnson" but could be something that appears on your flexed biceps when you're pointing out the entrance to the gun show.  What you carry that holds bullets and can be used to shoot things is a weapon.  Also, there are no cars in the Army....only vehicles (even when its obviously a Chevy Trailblazer).

 

4.  Duct tape will temporarily (and often permanently) fix anything.  I have some in my office right now and I used it the other day to repair a split seam in my suit pants.  I don't think anyone at court noticed the silver tape on my ass.  I'll probably wear it again next week.

 

5.  The deliciousness of coffee depends totally on your circumstances.  It can be brewed in any manner and in any container.  I fondly remember pouring coffee grounds into a pot of water during Desert Storm and waiting for the grounds to settle down to the bottom before I drank it.  It was delicious.

 

6.  Guys who starch their BDUs are trouble and should be avoided.  That uniform is supposed to be crumpled and wrinkled.  [Its what the Army gives you to wear while crawling in dirt for God's sake.]  It shows a troubling tendency to be neat, meticulous and not open minded.  People who walk around in wrinkled clothing (like me) are anathema to these types and are often targets for abuse.  [I find this one to be true as a lawyer too.]

 

7.  An NCO who simultaneously smokes a cigarette, holds a Styrofoam cup of coffee and complains about the "good old days" is a keeper.  These people have an innate ability to get the job done and you get to hear a lot of outrageous drinking stories.  They also often are able to kick your butt on the 2 mile run with a cigarette still dangling from their mouth.

 

8.  You can function without sleep for a lot longer than you think you can.  The only hard part is when you have to sit down and read something or when you pause between sentences.  You can also wait an extraordinarily long time to go to the bathroom (I'm talking about No. 2 here....).  That also brings to mind the remarkable lack of modesty that will attach to relieving yourself if you REALLY have to go and a lot of people are around and there is no foliage (like in the Saudi desert).

 

9.  Green eggs are not always rotten.  Sometimes they're just a reaction to the aluminum inside the mess containers....they still taste the same.  All that really counts is that they're warm.  If you don't like the taste, just put some of that Tabasco sauce you always carry on them.

 

I'm sure to think of more....I'm just getting started here.