My Kind of Officer

I read about this over at CDR Salamander. Captain Conner is definitely my kind of officer.

His base newsletter, "The Lighthouse", has a column called "Ask the Captain!". In the January edition Captain Conner was faced with one of the most self-righteous critters out there (with a few notable exceptions), the officer's wife. Here's the question for the captain:

What is the deal with the gate guards not surrendering salutes to officer’s vehicles? I don’t think an admiral’s wife or your wife would appreciate that either. We’ve worked hard to get here and should be recognized. They learned to recognize your vehicles. On every base I’ve been on they have a sign WE RENDER SALUTES PROUDLY. Here they work on trying not to salute the vehicle if the active duty member is not present. Isn’t it by UCMJ code they are supposed to render a salute to an officer? The vehicle has a sticker so why do they not (salute) whether or not the active duty member is present or not? Fill me in!! DO THEY NOT TRAIN THESE PEOPLE ANY MORE?? If not, I see more and more laxness going on in this military. A CWO wife.

If I had been the captain, I'm not sure I would have even attempted a response, maybe gone for something safer, say, like when they were going to get Diet Dr Pepper in the mess hall. But soldier that he his, he took this one on. Here's the beginning of his response:

Wow. That’s quite a sense of entitlement you have. Are you sure a salute is sufficient? Perhaps a curtsy or a genuflect would be more appropriate? We could have one sentry prostrate himself before you while the other fetches some oats for that high horse you’re riding.

First, the irony of addressing what you perceive to be an issue of respect in such a disrespectful tone is not lost. Secondly, since you specifically brought her into the dialogue, my wife thinks your question indicates a regrettably narrow perspective. Third, yes, we have training which encompasses many things for which a post sentry is responsible and accountable, primarily focused on force protection, anti-terrorism, law enforcement, defense of critical assets and infrastructure, and the use of lethal force. But thanks for asking. Fourth, if you consider standing a post 65-70 hours a week as “laxness,” then I invite you to put on your winter coat and go stand on the asphalt in front of your house for four hours holding your vacuum cleaner when the temperature reaches 85 degrees. That will give you some very small sense of what it is like to man a post, without of course the lethal responsibility.

He goes on to correct her - salutes are "rendered", not "surrendered" - and gives a crystal clear thumbnail sketch of the history of the salute.

Like so many things that I am not and never was, this is probably why I was never an officer.

Kepler

The Kepler observatory was launched into space the other day. I can't tell you how awesomely cool I think it's mission is: to find Earth-like planets circling other stars.

What confuses me though, is how it works. I mean, I get the idea - examine stars looking for telltale dimming as planets pass in front of it. But something that no one talks about is the fact that this only works if we are in the same plane as the planets of the observed solar system. Seems like that would be a very rare thing.

What am I missing? Seriously?

The other method of detection is watching for stars to wobble as the star and it's planets revolve around their common center of gravity. Seems to me like this is the way to go... it works no matter where we are in relation to the plane of the observed system.

I'm thinking that this sort of thing is probably why I'm not a scientist.

Fiction

I like to write.

I'm no writer... I know that, but it's fun. I enjoy it.

Anyway, one of the reasons that I'm no writer is that I have no discipline. I wait for inspiration, letting the muse do all the work. As all writers know, inspiration is a fickle bastard, letting us have tiny snippets of ideas then kicking back like a car salesman who just made his quota, expecting us to do all the heavy lifting with plot and exposition and all that boring stuff.

Cruel.

Still, these snippets, these quanta of fiction (fictons, if you will) are fun, and reasonable distractions on an otherwise useless day.

To the point.

Since I don't seem to be all that good at blogging (I find myself woefully unopinionated) I figured I would use this venue to publish my fictons, maybe turn them into something, maybe give somebody else an idea.

So here's my first ficton.

***

Like Weights Around Your Heart

Y’all ain’t heard this story ‘cause, well, hell, there ain’t nobody left to tell it but me, an’ I ain’t told it yet. I figger a feller oughta tell his stories though, otherwise they’ll hang like a weight around your heart, maybe drag you all the way down to hell. Maybe if y’all hear it, well, maybe you can share a little of that weight.

I was runnin’ with the James boys back then. When I say I was runnin’ with ‘em, I mean that if they mighta needed a feller or two ta do a job, they might throw a little work my way. This was towards the end, I dunno, about a year before Jesse got shot by that pissant Bob Ford.

Both Jesse an’ Frank was mighty ticklish them days. Ya didn’t dare ta look at ‘em sideways, else you’d be more likely as not ta get Frank’s pigsticker stuck between your ribs. Still, they was good boys ta work for if ya minded your P’s an’ Q’s. Leastways with me, they was always fair with the split an’ generous with the chow.

***

Well, there's the first one. I'll try to split these up, not post them all at once.

Let 'em simmer a little.