The Windmill Posts

The Great Crossing

The next few days are a bit of a race. One of the rules for myself on this trip was that I wasn’t going to chase miles, and I wasn’t going to chase hours. That it was meant to be chill, not schedule bound. The Great Crossing (TGC) is the exception. Texas is great. I spent a summer there with the Marines and it was hot but really nice. I know people from Texas who are great people. I’d love to explore Texas some time. But honestly, TGC is where I pay for the zero days that I’ve taken or will take. It’s a matter of point A to point B, and I’m not really stopping to look. I’ll take pictures as I stand at the gas pump. So I’m one day into four days of long driving in somewhat repetitive landscape. I’m sure I’ll find some fun along the way, but I’m steeling myself. And at the other end, when my land ship beaches on the shores of New Orleans, I will have a lovely zero day from my hotel, which is in the French Quarter a few hundred feet from Jackson Square. I will spend that day off strolling, not walking, around the French Quarter. I will not drive anywhere. And I will take a big fucking bite out of the Big Easy.

My brother is the oldest in the family, and he was the first of my siblings to go off to college. And he went. While my sisters and I went to college in our city, my brother went to Texas. Sibling legend has it that he had some choices but Texas A&M was the furthest away. Not sure about that but it makes for a good story. Mom and Dad flew down with him to get him installed and settled. We all went to the airport together – the whole family – and went through the laughable airport security screening. I think it was about as intense as walking through the security gate at a Hallmark Greeting Cards store. Not only did we take him to the gate, but none of us had been on an airplane before, so.. we all got on the plane to see where he was sitting. Apparently this was no big deal. Happened all the time. Feel free to deposit that loosely tapes cardboard box with the grease stains and ticking noise coming out of it anywhere.

Youngest sibling sob story warning: When they were down in Texas buying the requisite supplies for the dorm room, one of the items was a broom. Mom had just wanted “Lords of Discipline” and there was a whole todo about hazing at the time. Since my brother was going into ROTC, she was worried they would haze him and he would die. So they came up with a code. If he was in dire distress and concern for his life (and wanted his mother to know) he was to call and casually comment that he needed a new broom. Mom would then drop the phone receiver and run out the door to the car, get to the airport and fly down to rescue him. I thought it was brilliant.

Years later when I was going off to Marine Corps boot camp, a location which has far more attendee deaths than any cushy Officer training, I was ready for the same love. I had to buy running shoes – my only requirement. Brooms provided, although they were usually hand brushed and you were the handle. So I told Mom that if *I* had any problems, I would get word to her that I needed new running shoes. In my memory, her response was something of a grunt and a “that’s nice.” Bitter? Yup. But I got over it. (Right?)

Four years after my brother became pregnant with college he gave birth to a healthy college degree. They had a gigantic ceremony – thousands of people in his graduating class. Well, this time it was *our* turn to get on an airplane! The whole family flew down, aunts and uncles included. Not only that, but we got to stay in a hotel. Big deal, that! If Dad had figured out a way, we would have camped as it’s cheaper. And he liked camping. I vaguely remember the ceremony, because it was in a stadium. And at some point we had free time and I think we all ended up at a mall. I know that I got to wander this strange mall by myself, and they had a Camelot music there. I had heard of those, I think they had them in exotic California. I got Kraftwerk – Computerworld (English version) and Frankie Goes to Hollywood – Welcome to the Pleasure Dome. The former was ok, the latter still in my top 25 CDs of all time.

On the way home I had ear popping problems and remember it was like a nail through the head. I was sitting with Dad and he talked me through it, but it sucked. I also had a frank conversation with my Dad about how I needed a proper computer. I was learning (on my own) how to program and running into limitations with the computer I had, and just really needed a proper setup. He agreed. Not that he was going to pay for it, but instead of saying I could make do, or temper my hopes for the future he said it was a good idea. Little did I know when we got home there were inheritance checks for each of us kids waiting for us. Our Grandmother had died and it wasn’t a ton of money, but she wanted to give us something, and this something was just right for getting a brand new awesome computer system. From Radio Shack, no less!

Why the hell am I (saucy tonight) telling you all of this? I’m have given you my complete knowledge of the state of Texas from birth to my Marine Corps experience. So now I can start telling the actual story. I feel like I’m on a roll, so I’m going to type right through movie time this evening, and she how little detail I can dig up. New rule: NO more reminiscing. I’m still sore from Monterey and then I dug up stuff with my relatives yesterday. Memories only from here on out.

After language school, I had to go to school in San Angelo Texas at the Goodfellow Air Force Base. I can’t tell you what the training was, because it was super secret and stuff. And again, if I told you I’d have to kill you bore you to death. A handful of us Marines drive from Monterey to San Angelo in 24 hours straight. I read most of Stephen King’s The Stand when I was taking my turn driving. The corporal whose car it was told a long and detailed off color story that I will never forget, no matter how much I wish I could.

Since it was an Air Force Base, and we were Marines, we had nowhere to stay. So the standard drill was for us to stay in the hotel on base, and we would get per diem to cover the cost of the hotel. The only thing was, the hotel was $29 and the per diem was $30 per day. So in effect we were getting paid a dollar a day to stay in a hotel for three months. The maid service made those weekly inspections so much easier, BTW. Seriously. It was a lovely hotel though and we were two to a room. Nice courtyard in the middle, and picnic area with those covered tables I mentioned out back, by the flightline.

I spent a lot of time on my computer, dialed in to the systems back home that I missed. Did you know that a modem calling Minnesota from Texas is a long distance call? Yeah, I did too, but didn’t care or something. That was expensive. But glad I did it, as it was really like the last summer talking to my friends back home. At one point I wanted to order a pizza, but I was using the phone for the computer. So I told one of my friends on the other end to order a pizza in Texas, but from Minnesota. And it worked. Crazy.

I spent a lot of time talking to my long distance girlfriend, who I was going to see in a little bit once I took leave before going off to Korean. I ride from a friend of her up northern Minnesota from Saint Paul to see her and it was okay for a few days but then it just wasn’t as much, so I took a greyhound back. Both rides up and back were awkward. She and I had talked about engagement, even, good thing we didn’t go there.

I remember having the flu when I was in San Angelo. I don’t do the flu lightly. And by flu I mean the sinus issues, hold/cold fever aches thing. Nothing super gross. But when I get it, that’s me done for two days solid. So I had the flu and I was shivering in bed and a huge storm rolled through. They weren’t sure if it was a tornado or not, but it ripped the roof off the adjacent hotel branch. And I slept right through it.

The weather was pretty intense, being west Texas in the middle of summer. The base would put up flags indicating the level or exercise that was allowed. Green was good, red was bad, and black was don’t even think about it. So of course when the black flag went up that was a call to the Marines to get out there and prove something. It was fun to swagger a bit. Part of that was dehydration though. When you got back to your room, drowning in sweat, you’d get in a nice cold shower and balance out the temperature. Get dressed in some nice civilian duds and head off to the PX or the mess hall.

Another “you would know if you’d been there but couldn’t even though I’m trying to tell you about it” was sweat in the Marines. I had sweat before in my simple life growing up. But it wasn’t under we were on a forced march in boot camp and sweat was pouring down my face and making my glasses slip off, that I really understood what the human body was capable of. In Texas that summer we got another lesson in sweat. Running, you would simply develop a two or three millimeter layer of water covering every surface of your body. That would run off which being replenished by more sweat. So when we came in from exercise, our clothes were soaking, but we as humans were underwater. We were just walking around with it. And when you were all ready to go outside your nicely air conditioned room, you would walk out into the afternoon heat and it was like you were a cold Coke can on a hot day, and were immediately covered with condensation. But it was a dry heat, right?

Back to the Mess hall. In boot camp you go through the line and are given food. You sit down and told when to start and when to stop. You bus your own tray. In school in Monterey it was somewhat better. You asked for things when you went down the line, and nobody told you when to start or stop eating, but you bus your own tray. On an Air Force Base? Totally different story. It’s not bright white and loud noises, it’s got a lovely environment or atmosphere. Art on the walls even. You choose what you’d like to eat and by God it was tasty food! When you find a table, or preferably a comfortable booth, you take your time, enjoy your phone. If you get up to get more, you put a coaster on top of your drink. That indicates you’re not done. So nobody will clear it. When you are finally ready, you stand up and walk away. One of the food service professionals will come by and bus your tray and wipe down your table. Have a nice day, grab a toothpick on the way out.

I didn’t get off base much. No car, lots of studying, and honestly there wasn’t a ton to do in town. We would drink beer on picnic tables, go to the base movie theater, or shop at the PX. Because our school was in a secure compound, we couldn’t study outside of school time. We could go in the evening for an hour or so, but for the most part you left it all inside the fences and didn’t worry about it otherwise.

Unless you sucked at it. I nailed the typing test. I was good at some of the other things, like the technical stuff. But when it came back to the language I struggled. Hard. Near the end of the course I came in one point shy of passing a test, and that meant I was done. After all the language school, the technical school, and everything invested, I was rocking out at the final hour. Likely would mean infantry school for me, and that would be a bad scene for everyone involved. So had a rough evening.

When I got back to my room later than evening I found a note from my instructor saying he double checked the test and I passed, barely. I know for other people in that position they would sometimes just pass them anyway and let the student sink or swim in the fleet. And I’m sure that’s what they did for me. Thank you, Sgt whateveryournamewasIforgot.

I have other memories that are less stories, and more moods remembered. Or snapshots. One of them was going out to town with friends, and we ended up a boat landing, just hanging out in the fading light of dusk. The friend with the vehicle had a jeep, which was super cool but also fun to ride around with the top off. But it was a group of friends who had been through all of our schools together and knew each other very well. And it was a lovely moment. “Black Velvet” by Alannah Myles playing on the jeep radio.

We Marines volunteered to support an Iron Man. We were guarding the bikes overnight before the race. They got us a key of beer and said they’d see us in the morning. We stood around the scrub (at another boat landing) of the Texas desert drinking cold cheap beer. In the morning, we woke ourselves up by drinking warm cheap flat beer. It was awesome.

I’m sure I have more on Texas. Maybe I’ll write more, or maybe I’ll spare you. Long drive tomorrow, it’s off to sleep for me now!

Deets

• License Plates: HI, MO (Yes! Hawaii!), Chihuahua, Saskatchewan
• States: AZ, NM
• Departed: 7:41 am MST, 61 degrees
• Original ETA 2:09 pm MST
• Arrival: 3:00 pm MST
• Warmest/Coldest: Death Valley 90°, Wallace ID 22°
• Weather: Bit of rain, mostly partly cloudy
• Music: Spotify House playlist, Nine Inch Nails complete library playlist

Observations

• In Arizona they’re speed humps, not speed bumps
• Saw my first cliche cartoon style cactus today
• I thought Lake Isabella would be lush and beautiful, and I thought the desert would be ugly and desolate. Opposite on both counts.
• Interstate 10 is a wall of trucks, slow passing cars, and heavy wind. Makes driving much more exhausting, will look for more state highways.

Pictures