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- Sunday Morning Rambling Thoughts From a Curmudgeon
In my usual browsing this morning, i came across the word “scripturient.” From the Google dictionary it means “a strong, often compulsive, or even violent urge to write.” i am not sure i would ever have a violent urge to write, but i certainly feel a compulsive urge to write.
i wonder what wiring in my head produced this urge, but it has been drive i’ve had since somewhere around the third grade. i’m glad it’s there.
So, it is now the evening of the morning where i had these rambling thoughts. i’ve spent the day clearing items from my administratrivia to-do list, many bringing about frustration with the new fangled, technological maze in search of solutions without finding them, like following the instructions to locate an item, which is not on the menu list the web gave me.
But i actually got quite a bit off my to-do list.
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When not being frustrated with webology, i was confronted with choosing what to watch in sports: Olympic Men’s ice hockey championship, Padre pre-season baseball, Vanderbilt women’s basketball, or the PGA golf tournament.
Note: Maureen is a very understanding wife and she likes or puts up with watching a lot of sports. She’s even become a knowlegeable baseball sports fan and enjoys me watching Vanderbilt sports.
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i did not watch the replay of the hockey game. i knew the USA had beaten Canada, 2-1 in overtime. i will watch when i sit in front of the television the next time. But it took me back to 1980. On this date, February 1986, the US men would play the USSR in the championship game.
Two Navy SEALS and this surface warfare guy decided to watch the game together. Al Schaufelberger invited us and Peter Toennies’ wife Nancy to his house for dinner and the game. Since the game would not be televised until the evening, we also agreed not to listen to any reports of the game before we watched.
Pete, Nancy, and i drove to El Cajon and knocked on Al’s front door. Greeting us at the door, Al asked Nancy if she would like to bet him on the game. He volunteered to take the Russians. Pete and I immediately knew Al had listened to the earlier broadcast or heard the score. We beseeched Nancy not to bet.
We watched the entire game with Pete and i sure the Russians would win even with the US ahead in the last minute. It was only when Al Michaels made his famous call, “Do you believe in miracles” we realized the US really did win. Al had played a great joke on us.
Al was a great guy. Three years later, Al was the SEAL advisor to El Salvador’s military fighting drug gangs. He was assassinated while sitting in his vehicle awaiting his finance to return from a college class.
i don’t think i will ever watch a hockey game without thinking of Al.
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Saturday, i watched the Vanderbilt men’s basketball team lose to Tennessee, 69-59. Today, i watched the Vanderbilt women beat Kentucky, 89-61. Both games were extremely well played. i enjoyed them both although i did cuss a lot watching the men’s game. It was more like a wrestling match than a basketball game.
If the rules when i played and watched in the 1950/60s were evoked, the Commodores or the Vols would have had every player on the roster fouled out before half way through the first half, and the ball would have been handed to the other team on almost every possession for carrying the ball or traveling.
In the women’s game today, the amount of fouling was a bit less, but in my opinion, every tie ball call was preceded by a bunch of fouls in the old days.
If there have been rule changes like the “Euro step” in the game, they neverless had made officiating a subjective impact on the game. i think that is sad. The old style of the game was artful. Now, a great part of it is how much a player can get away with without getting caught.
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That’s enough. It is this old man’s bedtime. i suspect you are worn out reading this…if you actually got through all of it. More later.
And sleep well.
- Luposchiansky’s Hurry-Up-And-Wait Principle
If you are early, it will be cancelled, If you knock yourself out to be on time, you will have to wait. If you wait, you will be too late.
- Memories of a Legend
By happenstance, i wandered into a file folder yesterday while i continue to toss stuff and organize the remainder for the ones i leave behind…eventually. It is a job that will never be finished.
But the contents of that file folder put a halt to my efforts. i spent a huge chunk of the rest of the day remembering the legend. My association with JD Waits began in Perth, Australia in the autumn of 1981. We became shipmates when i reported aboard to relieve the USS Okinawa (LPH-3) weapons officer.
An aside: For some strange unknown reason, Okinawa was the only ship of the class that titled my position “Weapons Officer.” The six other LPHs titled my position as “First Lieutenant.” i preferred the latter, but i was the Weapons Officer.
i will not elaborate on the many adventures (or misadventures as some might call them) of JD and me. To cover them all would be longer than War and Peace. i plan to address many of them separately.
JD and i shared apartments twice in that wonderful period from December 1981 until May 1983, one apartment in Coronado proper and the other in the Cornado Cays with a boat slip for JD’s 25-foot Cal sailboat.
We both worked hard on Okinawa, JD in his role as Assistant Aviation Officer, and I, as mentioned earlier, as Weapons Officer, and then Overhaul Coordinator toward the end of my tour. We were admired and respected for our work ethic, knowledge in our craft, and considered leaders on the ship.
But when we were on liberty, we were acknowledged as the kings of fun, the “Booze Brothers,” the Navy version of the Blues Brothers. The file folder captured that crazy, glorious time of our reign. JD was a Chief Warrant Officer 4; i was a commander. We were single.
i am having trouble writing this because i stop and think of yet another crazy stunt we pulled off, often with the help of members of the OKI wardroom.
Of course, we blew it. JD married his first wife, Mary Lou, again. i married Maureen. Both marriages ruining the perfect bachelor existence. But it worked out. Maureen and Mary Lou became great friends, and JD and i continued our exploits, only fewer because it is a significant distance between the Southwest corner and central Texas. This, too, worked out, and we remained close, the four of us.
JD turned 82 today, just over a month younger than me. Knowing him, i think he is smiling and thinking of another outrageous idea yonder over that rainbow bridge.
Happy Birthday, JD…i cleaned this up for our wives.
- A Visit from the PETA Supporters, a Marty Tale
Posted previously somewhere. But a key phrase in this tale again popped into my head, and the tale deserves a retelling.
A long, long time ago, sometime in the 1990s, my friend Marty Linville, told me the story. It had occurred the week before our Friday morning golf round when Marty, wife Linda, daughter Michelle, and son Michael lived in nice home on a cul-de-sac. They had good friends who lived across the street who were dedicated to animal rights. Those neighbors were members of “People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals” (PETA).
On this particular evening, they were going around the neighborhood to get people to support PETA’s efforts.
They knocked on Marty’s door. After the usual round of friendly greetings, the couple urged Marty to stop buying dairy products, eating beef or beef product, and not buying or wearing belts, jackets, or other articles of clothing made of leather.
They were obviously genuinely proud of their presentation until Marty asked them a question:
“Why do you want to kill the cows?”
Startled, the couple doubled down talking about treating the cows humanely. Then they asked Marty what could he mean by such a question as “Why do you want to kill the cows?”
Marty explained, “I’m from Kansas, lived in cow country. I can tell you if folks quit drinking milk and eating cheese, and quit wearing leather, those farmers aren’t going to keep all of those cows for pets!”
He did not tell me his friends response. i wish i knew.
- A Tale of the Sea and Me: Baxter Bolts
i have written of this before. But i cannot find that post, column, whatever, so i am repeating the incident. It is a great sea story.
The USS Anchorage (LSD 36) sailed into Subic Bay, Luzon, Philippines, July 18-26, 1975 for a nine-day restricted repair availability at the Naval Shipyard. In addition to equipment and repairs and maintenance, she would receive from the shipyard, there was a ship alteration (SHIPALT) that also was to be installed.
Someone in the Bureau of Ships (BUSHIPS) back in Washington decided that this class of landing ship dock should help the marines disembark when required. So they decided to put in handrails to help the gyrenes descend the cargo cargo nets into landing craft.
A significant problem in the plan was handrails at the debark stations on the port side of the LSDs would greatly interfere with normal ship operations with the handrails blocking some evolutions. So the great ship planners back in DC decided to make the handrails removable and installed only when leatherneck debarking was in effect.
The solution was to use “baxter bolts.” Each of these fasteners required a hole in the deck for the female part of the bolt with threads to screw in the handrails when required. When not in use there was a cover that would screw into the hole to make the deck even and keep seawater and rain from getting into the hole.
As Anchorage’s First Lieutenant, the debark stations were my responsibility as well as the surrounding deck and the Marine berthing compartment directly below the deck.
The sandcrabs (hah, you landlubbers will have to figure that definition out) who would install the SHIPALT came aboard to meet with me to plan the installation. They brought the 36 Baxter bolts with them for me to retain until it was time for installation.
It turned out it, the install was pretty complicated. To make the holes to fit the bolts required cutting the steel deck with blowtorches, requiring my personnel to set up fire watches in the berthing compartment below. The repair folks, deck supervisors, and myself checked where the the work would be done in the berthing compartment. That’s when the repair folks realized the lagging on the overhead consisted of asbestos. Even in 1975, it was recognized as hazardous.
This would require an expert team for asbestos removal and could not be done in the nine days we would be in port.
The SHIPALT was deferred until we returned to San Diego. i held onto the bolts for the Shore Intermediate Maintenance Activity to accomplish when we were in port for a longer time.
When we returned to our home port in November, SIMA came aboard to accomplish he handrail installation. i gave them my 36 Baxter bolts. They refused to use them, pointing out they had there own to use.
Now folks, the Subic baxter bolts were made of monel. One of the strongest metal alloys in existence, also very heavy. It is rated along with titanium as one of the strongest metal alloys and has many uses on ships and submarines.
The installation was completed with the inferior SIMA baxter bolts. i’m not sure what happened to the other 35 monel bolts, but i have one. Just the metal alone is worth around $90. It is a good tale to tell when someone asks about my door stopper.
A wonderful example of bureaucracies at work.
