Seven Days in March |
|
April 3, 2004 Dear friends, As the month of March drew to a close, mombear and I returned from a weeklong trip to San Antonio to see our daughter graduate from Air Force Basic Training. It was very nice to see her again, especially in my case. While mombear had seen her, and her brother (and their fiancees) last summer, the last time I had seen our daughter was last May when she graduated from college with her degree in Public Relations. Of course, the reason she joined the Air Force in the first place was that her degree didn't net her immediate employment in that field, and with a wedding coming up, college loans to pay back, and just the day to day cost of living, decent employment was a priority. Her job in retail didn't carry many benefits, and with her graduation, she was no longer covered under my military benefits. After a few months of un-fruitful job searching, I suggested that she consider joining the military, specifically the Air Force. This wasn't an easy decision for me, since I had never suggested to either of my kids that they should join the military. I figured that the 20 years I did fulfilled our family obligation to defend this country for at least a couple of generations. Still, the military offers ways to pay back much or all of college loans, a steady paycheck, good benefits (free medical/dental insurance, 30 days paid vacation a year, opportunity to travel and to be promoted, etc.) and excellent training. I picked the Air Force because I knew them to be the easiest service with the least likelihood of face-to-face combat, and my experiences with other services had given me an appreciation of them. They have the shortest and easiest Basic, the best food, best facilities, easiest daily workload (generally speaking) with the most lenient policies for time off to take continuing education, and basically they take better care of their people than anybody else. To paraphrase an old recruiting commercial for one of the other services, "It's not much of an adventure, it's a job." Something safe and sane, or as much as any military job can be. I only suggested that she talk to a recruiter. The next thing I know, we're getting a phone call saying she's enlisted and will be headed off to her Basic in January (which was later moved to February). Although she scored extremely high on her entrance exam (I may have mentioned this once before...) and she had college, she didn't get any help in going in to the AF as an officer, so that will have to wait a year, if she decides she wants it. When the time finally came, she flew off to Texas in a harrowing introduction to the Air Force (36 hours without sleep, rain, confusion - generally a pretty dismal state of affairs at first). Over the next 6 weeks, we got a few phone calls (one unexpected one where they had told her we were trying to get in touch with her through the Red Cross; turned out to be another girl with an almost identical last name who was trying to get out of the Air Force 3 years and 361 days early on her 4 year enlistment), and several letters detailing how hard it was in Basic, and how miserable she was, and how she couldn't wait for it all to be over. (You can understand now why I didn't suggest she join the Marines...) After "Warrior Week," she was no longer a "trainee," she was an "airman," and got a few more privileges. (Warrior Week is a camping trip to a "field environment," where they learn "combat tasks" and live under "harsh conditions" - which in the Air Force means, I believe, no big screen plasma TVs and sleeping in a tent instead of a building.) She did have to visit the gas chamber and be exposed to tear gas, shoot a rifle, and endure sleeping on a cot inside a tent erected on a concrete pad in a fixed, improved field site. I recall my own training: I carried everything I was going to have for a week to the field on my back as we marched out, slept in a pup tent with another guy (we each carried half a tent in our rucksacks), dug "cat holes" for our excretory functions, shaved out of my helmet, and ate canned food from little cardboard boxes - C-rations - which we weren't allowed to heat since the fire or the smell of cooking food could give away our position to "the enemy." After we were done with our day and night training, including unexpected gas attacks in the middle of the night, digging foxholes, and learning that "shower" was only used to describe a light rain, we marched back in to our barracks area so we could clean everything up that we had gotten dirty before we were free to attend to anything like personal hygiene. (Remind me why I didn't join the Air Force myself...?) Anyway, I digress. After completing Warrior Week, our airman daughter had a little more freedom as they prepared to graduate. She even called me up to wish me a happy birthday the day before we left to go see her. I wish I had been home to take the call, but although I had every intention of leaving early, nether of my partners at work was able to supervise my teams, and they were both going to Phoenix that weekend for a competition, and to post Colors at a large ceremony, and I couldn't take away one of their much-needed days of training, so I had to stay. Mombear, at least, got to talk to our daughter and pass on her birthday wishes to me. I missed the call by only a few minutes. I did get everything packed up that evening, and went to bed early so we could leave early the next morning. It was an early start to the day, getting up shortly before 0430, and getting on the road shortly after 0500. We knew we wouldn't be able to get to San Antonio in a single day. Mapquest indicated it would take about 19 hours, and even allowing that Mapquest errs on the side of caution, we knew it was just too far to make it without stopping. We also knew we wouldn't be there for the "Airmen's Run," a grueling (?) 2-1/2 mile run in formation with the airmen about to graduate. Our daughter's husband, who flew in the day we started driving, was able to see her run that morning, even as we sped towards the Air Force base, but we were driving, so we had to do the best we could. I determined by actually looking at a map that the most likely place to stop would be Fort Stockton, halfway between El Paso and San Antonio. That would give us time to be there, check into our hotel, and get "settled in" before our daughter would be released for an on-base pass on Thursday evening at 1600 (4:00 p.m. for you civilians.) The first day of our trip went well, I think. We didn't encounter any significant traffic en route, largely due to the fact that the sun hadn't even risen yet. When it did, we hit the major metropolitan areas - well, actually, just one area sort of: El Paso, though Las Cruces, NM, which is very close by, did have a bit of traffic too - at other than peak hours so we pretty much breezed right through. I have an odd concept of the desert Southwest: I think of it as being dry and brown. I discovered, though, that people who live where it's quite wet and green seem to feel that they, too, live in the desert. The farther south and east we traveled, the wetter and greener (and lower in elevation) it got, yet people still thought they lived in the desert Southwest. Anyway, we traveled nearly the length of the state of New Mexico, through the bustling metropoli of Las Cruces and El Paso, and into the Central time zone before finally calling a halt in historic Fort Stockton. Somewhere before Las Cruces, we saw a billboard advertising Fort Stockton, "on the horizon." That was about 5 or 6 hours before we got there. I'm not sure where the person was who thought that Fort Stockton was "on the horizon" from that spot; perhaps from the space shuttle it was "on the horizon," but it sure didn't seem that way to us. I believe the first time we actually saw a mileage sign mentioning Fort Stockton was one that said, "Fort Stockton next one exits" under which was "1 mile." We had seen signs for San Antonio before we even reached the El Paso city limits. We pulled into town, found a motel on the edge of town (which was pretty much the case for any and all motels in town), and checked in to a room. It was about 1830 (6:30 p.m. - my close brush with the active duty military has me thinking and speaking in military time these days...), and we had been on the road about 13 hours or so. Rather than immediately go eat, we stayed there in the room and watched "Survivor," one of the few shows I watch weekly ("Joan of Arcadia," "24," "Enterprise" and lately, "Kingdom Hospital" comprise the rest of my weekly television viewing), though mombear takes in a few more shows than I do. The machinations these folks go through in a "reality" setting to win a million dollars simply amaze me. I'd rather sit across from Regis Philbin and phone a friend for a shot at big bucks. At least you get it over with quickly, and there's no "fat, naked gay guys" (Richard Hatch, winner of the first "Survivor," described himself that way) running around to distract you. After that, we took the advice of the desk clerk on a place to eat, and went to "The Steakhouse" just down the road. (Not that anyplace was all that far down the road to begin with.) We ate Mexican food, prepared unexpectedly bland for a place that once was a part of Mexico (although it has been a few years.) We stopped off at Dairy Queen afterwards before returning to the room for an episode of the aforementioned "Kingdom Hospital" before going to bed. I was surprised - though perhaps I shouldn't have been - that the Dairy Queen (big, of course, as all things in Texas are supposed to be) had no chocolate ice cream. They also lacked sprinkles to put on cones. I encounter the same thing in our area at most Dairy Queens. I'm no chocoholic, but I'd at least like a LITTLE bit of choice in my ice cream selections. In spite of the disappointment, I was able to sleep that night. We started the next morning with a trip to, apparently, the center of town, which was dominated by a large statue of a roadrunner. We had passed it the night before, and it seemed like a picture of that would make a good souvenir of our visit to historic Fort Stockton. we aren't quite sure what's historic about the town. I believe there is, indeed, an old fort there (presumably no longer in use), but we didn't make a point of searching it out. We didn't have to leave especially early, since I estimated our trip to San Antonio would only be another 4 hours or so, but nonetheless we were on the road before 0700. I was correct, and we did indeed arrive there quite early. We immediately proceeded to the base to get a temporary pass which was good for the entire time we were there. I was impressed with how high-tech it was, much more so than I ever encountered while I was on active duty. Of course, there is a human factor involved: the young law enforcement type person creating the pass indicated our van had TX plates instead of AZ. Naturally, in 4 days of going on and off base many times, nobody actually checked that. They even had a digital camera to put my picture on the pass so gate guards could identify me as I was driving in, though I still had to show my ID card. That's probably wise, though, since it was almost impossible to identify me in anything but generic terms from the photo. You might think I was a white guy wearing glasses, though I could have been a white woman with circles under her eyes, or a Latino man or woman with the same characteristics, or I might have stepped off a flying saucer in Roswell since the body shape was pretty indistinct and I seemed to have kind of a "halo" around my body. In any event, the picture worked to get me on base for the next 4 days. While there, mombear called our son-in-law at the hotel, and we agreed to meet him there as soon as we got the pass. We were able to check into the hotel upon our arrival (very convenient, and conveniently located, about a mile or so from the entrance to the base), and called our son-in-law, who met us in our room, and we made plans for the day. The first order of business was to turn in his rental car. It meant we would all be together in one vehicle the entire time, but there really wasn't a need or reason to have more than one, and it made no sense for him to pay for a car for that whole time. After a long trip, we were looking forward to being chauffeured, but things don't always work out the way you want. (So learn to deal with it!) We dropped the car off and returned to the base. I should mention that San Antonio has more residents than the entire Navajo Nation, and most of them are on the road driving at any given time. "Speed limit" signs are more "speed guidance," and most people seem to regard that guidance as a minimum suggested speed rather than a maximum. I found that if I never released the gas pedal (other than at red lights), and only rarely allowed it off the floor, I did just fine. We covered a lot of ground quickly during our stay in San Antonio. When we got back to the base, we first visited a BX (Base Exchange) Mini Mall. It's a concept that caught on in the latter years of my service. Originally, they had a small Exchange by itself in one place, a barber shop in another place, and other services scattered about. Eventually, the military decided that was inefficient (it surprises me that, once they realized that, they actually changed it!), and started creating mini malls that combined services, including cleaners, barbers, souvenir shops, and fast food places, into single locations. I discovered that, at least in the Air Force, such places also have rooms with pay-as-you-go Internet access so airmen without their own computers (such as during training or schools) had access to email and the latest music videos. (This did not apply to Basic trainees, though.) We looked around a bit, and mombear picked out a shirt to buy later. Once we were done there, we went to the BMT Reception Center. (BMT is apparently Air Force for "Basic Military Training.") It was nice that they have an entire building dedicated to welcoming parents, loved ones and stalkers to the graduation activities of their airmen. We sat through a "briefing" (how anyone can call something that lasts well over an hour a "brief"-anything is beyond me) about the Air Force, activities for the weekend, special events and services, and so on, all conducted by one of the TIs. (Training Instructors, similar to DIs, or Drill Instructors, which other services use. The Air Force isn't big on "drill," but they seem to be very good at training and instruction.) It was moderately informative, and filled in the gap in time nicely as we waited for our Airman daughter to be released into our (temporary) custody. I visited the mini mall nearest the BMT center and found that they had a cleaning and alterations shop there that would sew patches on while-u-wait. This was important to me since I brought along my BDUs (the camouflage uniforms we've all seen, though mine are the green pattern they used to issue exclusively, back in the days before we knew that we might have to fight wars in the desert) to have some patches sewn on. I had, unfortunately, left the patches in the hotel room, so that task had to wait until later. Seems that the Army wants an American flag sewn on BDUs these days. (Nobody would know we were Americans otherwise, I'm sure.) Originally, we were told that we, as JROTC instructors, would have to have the flags sewn on. Then, a fw days later, we were told that we wouldn't be allowed to have them sewn on, since we were retirees. (This after I had bought 8 of the patches during my visit to Fort Bliss several weeks ago for a drill meet.) Finally, they reversed that decision, and the flags became a required item once again. It's odd, though. We've had flags sewn on uniform sleeves for several years now for troops deployed to certain areas, ever since a former President put U.S. soldiers under the command of United Nations personnel. The flags were always standard. The proper way to display a flag is with the "union" (that's the blue part with the stars on it) in the upper left hand corner. It's that way if the flag is flown normally, like on a pole, or hanging down, if it were hung from or painted on the side of a building. The flags we have to wear now, though, are "reverse flags." (That's the actual term used for them.) They are sewn on the right sleeve, and for reasons I've never had explained to me (other than this represents the wishes of some highly placed General, and I can honestly believe that), the flag is indeed backwards: the union is in the upper right corner, with the stripes extending to the left. It looks so absolutely... wrong. I can't help but wonder who thought that it was a good idea to counter 225+ years of tradition and regulation by having these flags made thusly, and REQUIRING soldiers to display them in such a bizarre manner. (I did get the flags sewn on the next day, at that alterations shop. I took my place in line with a gang of recently promoted airmen, paid for the work, followed the yellow line painted on the floor until one of the seamstresses called me, and stood by while she sewed the reverse flags onto my uniforms. I hope the dyslexic General is happy now.) Anyway, having wasted enough time, we all gathered in the bleachers around a parking lot behind the BMT center and awaited the arrival of the airmen for a Retreat ceremony, to be conducted at 1600, rather than the 1700 Retreat ceremony which is conducted for the benefit of the entire base. (Mostly, you don't notice that one other than the music blaring from huge loudspeakers all around the base. This is pretty standard at all military installations. In uniform, one "faces the music" and salutes at the appropriate time. Out of uniform, one places the hand over the heart instead of saluting. Civilians are asked simply to stand still quietly until it's over.) They started showing up about a half hour before the ceremony, standing on the street not far from the parking lot. They moved into position on cue (someone thoughtfully painted yellow circles on the parking lot so they knew where to line up), and waited for the ceremony to begin - which it did, 20 minutes after it was scheduled to start. It was simple, and well done, though a bit differently than the Army does it. (We play "Retreat" and "To The Colors;" the Air Force plays "Retreat" and "The National Anthem.") We finally got to see our daughter after the ceremony was over, when the airmen were released - until about 1930, since they had to be back in their barracks at 2000. (That's 7:30 and 8:00 p.m., respectively.) After hugging and talking a bit, our daughter went to the barracks (we weren't allowed to cross the street to the squadron area) to get some of her uniforms to get her new rank (Airman First Class) sewn on. We paid respects to the flag again as the post conducted Retreat, then all went back to the mini mall so our daughter could stand in line and get rank put on. It was important since she had to have it on for her graduation the next day (Friday), and for her off-base "liberty" (I thought only the Navy used that term?) on Saturday. We only had a couple of hours, so we visited the main BX complex. She hadn't been there yet, although some of the other girls in her "flight" had gone there during their one previous on-base liberty. We looked around briefly, but mostly concerned ourselves with supper. The Exchange malls, like civilian malls, usually feature a food court, and we stopped at the sandwich shop ("Robin Hood," a place we were familiar with from our days in Germany, about 12 years previously) to get something to eat. After that, time for a treat: Baskin Robbins ice cream. We had been briefed to avoid any excessive PDAs - Public Displays of Affection. Moms could hug their sons or daughters for up to 5 seconds; dads were allowed a slightly shorter period of time. Spouses or "significant others" got roughly 2 seconds. No hand-holding, other than with young family members (younger brothers and sisters of an age where holding hands to guide them along would be appropriate.) It was a challenge, but we managed not to offend the sensibilities of the Air Force. We finally returned our daughter to the BMT center so she could go back to her barracks, and then returned to the hotel for a quiet evening. Friday was graduation. We took advantage of the continental breakfast at the hotel - quite a task, since there were many families there following the same schedule, and the breakfast area had perhaps a dozen tables with 2, 3 or 4 chairs each. Cereal, bagels, or toaster waffles were the fare - not too impressive considering the price of the rooms. We found a seat easily enough though, since we were there pretty early. (On succeeding days, it wasn't nearly as easy.) We parked at the BMT center and boarded one of the many buses to the parade field. The parking lot at the field could never have accommodated all the cars, so this plan worked well. Once there, we looked at some of the aircraft on display, including some current models with which I was familiar. I shared what I knew with my son-in-law (he was polite enough not to look bored), and we finally found a seat in the bleachers. Like most of the days there, it was warm, windy, and humid, with occasional rain sprinkles or even showers. The graduation was set for 0900, and DID kick off on time. The mandatory speechmaking was mercifully brief, and the marching was satisfactory (for the Air Force, anyway. A Marine DI would have gone into convulsions, but that's their nature.) It was a pretty large and impressive assembly. We were told that they have graduations weekly (other than Christmas/New Year's, I believe), and graduate 47,000 airmen annually. After it was over, we joined up with our daughter on the parade field, and all 4 of us got to ride the bus back together. Having only on-base liberty is something of a mixed blessing. It's nice to be all together, but there's just so much anyone can do when confined to an Air Force base for roughly 8 hours. I had brought my backwards flags along, so we got them sewn on, and eventually found ourselves at one of the fine Air Force dining facilities, Mitchell Hall, which promised that graduates could eat free when accompanied by a paying family member. We paid for three so our daughter could eat free - though a return trip to Robin Hood wouldn't have been too bad by comparison. It was a large, buffet style setup, and though we wandered into the room ignoring the sign that advised us "Please Wait to be Seated," (we were intercepted halfway through the room, and seated in a far corner, away from other, more cooperative guests), we were able to locate the food. For the price, it was spectacularly unimpressive. Not too bad, just not too good either. We managed to spend an hour or so there, eating some of the time, but mostly talking. When we could find no other reason to remain, we went to the BX mall area again. This time, we paid a visit to the commissary first. It's well worth it to buy groceries at a military commissary. Mombear and I regularly made (monthly, or so) treks to the commissary at Carlisle Barracks, PA, when we lived in the area (i.e. 45 minutes away) because it saved about 20% over civilian grocery stores. (Example: a box of Kellogg's Frosted Mini-Wheats for $1.00 when it was on "special" - like, 3 months at a time. Frozen foods and canned goods were also much cheaper, even compared to "bonus buys" at civilian stores.) I was able to stock up on Shin Ramyon, imported from Korea, and we picked up a few other things as well. Our daughter and son-in-law even got a few essential items. After that, we went to the BX, this time for a thorough visit, stopping in the little shops there as well as walking through the store itself. It's like a department store. Not quite the selection of Wal-Mart, and the prices don't compare favorably with Wal-Mart in many cases either, (though name brands, which is what the Exchanges specialize in, are pretty decently priced), but not a bad place either, and when they have sales, especially clearance sales, NOBODY beats them. Our daughter spent lots of time examining makeup (if it were an academic discipline, she'd have a Ph.D.), jewelry (ditto) and bathing suits while I looked at running shoes. We even visited the BX Garden Shop, a separate store area with plants, tools, toys, appliances - even a massage chair. We visited Baskin Robbins again, this time for milk shakes, and a mocha blast for mombear. There wasn't much else to do, nor many other places to go, so we were there until it was time for our daughter to return once more to her barracks. That evening, while our son-in-law watched basketball, we took our van to the local Sears auto center and had our tires rotated and balanced. (Yes, we DO live an exciting life.) It's hard to do where we live, since Sears is more than 2 hours away and our time in town is always limited. We had noticed vibration as we were driving along (at 75 mph, the speed limit for most of our trip) and decided we needed to take care of it before the trip home. I managed to visit Foot Locker, and though they couldn't help me with the shoes I wanted (they had a "2 for 1" sale, but only had one pair of the shoes in my size!), they referred me to their sister store in the mall (Athletic Express?) which did have them, so now I have two pairs of running shoes which should last me a year or so. I even managed to visit the knife store there for a bit (spent no money) before we called it a night and went back to the hotel. Saturday was our big day: our daughter had town liberty! She was actually allowed to venture off base - though not too far - for the day. After once more eating the continental breakfast, we went on base to get our daughter, then back to the hotel so she and her husband could spend some time together. Meanwhile, I dragged mombear 15 miles south to a small town - Lytle, TX - to visit an antique shop there, one I had dealt with through eBay. (Yes, they auction knives.) It was a friendly little place, and I talked to the wife of one of the owners while looking through their small selection. The knives they auction aren't in the store, and her husband was handling the local auction of some restaurant equipment they had picked up from a place that had gone out of business in San Antonio. His partner, meanwhile, was yard-saling, looking for bargains for their store and their eBay auctions. (Ah, I remember the days when I could do that...) I eventually met that person's wife, too, as she came into the shop just as we were about to leave. She invited us to go see her husband who would be at the auction, but we declined, since we did have to return and get "the kids" to do other things that day. I did stop at a yard sale on the way back, then we returned to San Antonio where mombear visited a Hobby Lobby to look at scrapbooking supplies. We returned to the hotel and reclaimed our daughter and son-in-law, and headed off towards our planned destination: a drive-through safari park. We were en route when our daughter asked about the location, and that's when we realized that it was outside of the limits of her town pass. She couldn't go! We had to drop her and her husband off at a mall while we continued on... no, just kidding. Instead, we stopped for lunch at Olive Garden and readjusted our plans: we would go to the San Antonio zoo. Not quite as up-close-and-personal as the safari, but a chance to visit animals and relax, just walk around and have a good time. Although I overshot the exit, mombear got me on track, and soon we were there. We spent several hours walking through the zoo, seeing the animals and enjoying the sunshine. We had just passed the lion sleeping in his enclosure when we heard him start to roar. Sure enough, when we went back there, he had rolled up from his side onto his belly, and he was roaring loudly - though he still had his eyes closed. After perhaps a minute, he rolled back onto his side and went back to sleep. I checked my watch, and understood what had taken place: it was a minute past 4:00 p.m. (the lion was on civilian time). Apparently the zoo, lacking a cuckoo clock, had the lion signal the top of the hour. We were quite impressed. We passed other animals, including a male grizzly bear. We could tell it was a male from the way he walked around, stopped, sat back on his rear end and scratched himself - extensively. Some things, I believe, are universal among males of any species. We spent several hours at the zoo, then decided we should head out so we could visit a few other places before we had to get our daughter back. I knew where we should go: the Alamo. We had been through San Antonio once before and didn't visit there, so it was, for me, something of a priority. It's located right downtown, not very far from the zoo, so I drove straight there - and ran into a ridiculous traffic jam. There were roads closed off, parking lots filled up, police officers directing traffic, and men and women in fine clothing (tuxedos and evening gowns) walking along the street. It took quite a while to negotiate the mess, and the nearest we could park was probably a half mile away. Mombear and daughter were tired from all the previous walking, so my son-in-law and I made our way to the Alamo. In spite of a few false turns (which nonetheless gave us a brief view of the famous Riverwalk), we got there, just at 5:30 - closing time. On the way, though, we saw that there were barricades all along the way, and beside the Alamo itself. There was a huge Fest tent set up there, news crews, and just a huge hubbub of activity. One young woman - why people think that I'm anything but a customer or tourist wherever I go, I don't know - asked me as we passed her, "Is this where the stars will be walking by?" Bingo! The light bulb went on, the curtains were parted, the truth was revealed: the world premiere of the movie, "The Alamo." I knew, and have been awaiting the release, of the movie slated for April 9. What I didn't realize is that the world premiere would be almost two weeks earlier, and it would actually take place at the site itself. I guess the Alamo was open to visitors that day - people who showed up before closing time, no doubt. But from the time we arrived (and well before, actually), the focus was on the movie and its stars. (Mombear and I were watching the news that night, and fully half of the broadcast was devoted to the premiere, including interviews with the stars, e.g. Billy Bob Thornton, and the producer, and some of the "stargazers," and commentary from the media types. They were even gushing about the fireworks display slated for 11:00 p.m. - quoting their reference to civilian time, once again.) Incredibly, the only day our daughter had free, the only chance we had in the last 20 years to visit the Alamo, was the same day they chose to have the world premiere of the movie, someplace other than Hollywood. Who would have thought...? Well, I did, but then, that's the way I expect my luck to run. My son-in-law and I trudged back to the van, woke up my daughter and mombear, and we once again reformulated our plans: to the mall! We didn't have a lot of time, but my daughter enjoyed it, as she was once again in her native element. after an all-to-brief visit, it was time to return to base. We once more bade our daughter goodbye, and returned to the hotel. Not long afterwards, the three of us there went out for supper. We decided on pizza, and I checked the phone book, which listed dozens of pizza places, including some familiar names. Of course, I didn't know the streets, or the real layout of the city, so I picked one I did know, and off we went - in the wrong direction, actually. (Saturday was not a good day for me, navigation-wise.) We did manage to locate a pizza place, though, and we decided it would be satisfactory to our needs: Chuck E. Cheese. We ordered a pizza and some drinks, and played games until the food arrived, and then afterwards. We won a water-filled bracelet and some Chuck E. Cheese stickers. After claiming our prizes, we went back to the hotel for another night's rest. Sunday we were once more limited to base. The continental breakfast was on a par with previous days, and afterwards we went to pick up our daughter once more. We visited the mini mall again that we had been to the first day, and got mombear her shirt - one of two she got on the trip. We went to another dining hall, this time the Gateway Club, and waited until we were seated. This time, it was worth the effort. The brunch buffet they had was excellent, with omelets made to order, carved turkey or roast beef, a very good selection of breakfast and lunch items, and an attentive Korean waitress. (I verified this with a "Thank you" in Korean, and she responded in kind with "You're welcome.") In spite of our full bellies, we decided to go bowling. We had to wait, though not very long, and then, for the first time in many years, mombear and I were bowling, along with the kids. None of us did very well, but none of us did terribly either. Our daughter bowled only one game, while the rest of us bowled two. I had high score the first time, and my son-in-law won the second game. It was a very pleasant way to spend part of our afternoon. We left there and went to (where else?) the BX one last time. This time, we bought a few things we needed but didn't want to have cluttering up the van earlier in the trip (like a yard card and lawn sprayer), and basically paid our last visit to the main BX of Lackland Air Force Base. Our daughter had to be back early that evening (in her room by 1700), so that was pretty much all the activity we could fit into the day. We dropped her off for a tearful goodbye, and returned to the hotel, which was a lot less occupied than it had been as many parents and other loved ones had to leave that day, and so didn't get to spend as much time with their graduates as we did. Mombear and I ate supper at an IHOP. It was unexpectedly good, and we had a great waiter. Later on, I went out and bought mombear a hot fudge sundae from Dairy Queen, while I got a small Blizzard. (I didn't even bother asking if they had chocolate ice cream.) Once more, we turned in early since we knew we'd have an early start in the morning. Monday did indeed begin early, up again about 0430. I packed the van while mombear and our son-in-law checked out. Afterwards, we drove him to the airport. He was flying in to Baltimore, and so was our daughter. They both hoped that they would be on the same flight, but when she called us as we were en route, she let him know that there were on different airlines - located in different terminals, even. We dropped him off before 0600 for his 0730 flight, and headed out of San Antonio. I thought we could, possibly, make it home in one long day of driving, but we just couldn't. We did gain an extra hour by crossing back into the Mountain time zone, but we were both tired, and finally gave up when we reached Grants, NM - about 3 hours or so from home. We had stopped for a late lunch at an Arby's, getting a couple of their "Homestyle" sandwiches, and finished them off in lieu of going somewhere for supper. A good night's sleep, and we were ready to go home the next morning. We did stop at Wal-Mart, a few hundred yards from the hotel, before leaving, and picked up some essential items, then headed back to the Navajo Nation. We stopped at the post office, picked up most of our mail (they left some things out which I got the next day), and got back home before noon. Then, we did laundry, I changed the oil in the van and in my truck, we checked our respective emails, and got ready to resume our routine. I did work on Wednesday, though Thursday I visited a VA clinic in Farmington, mostly to see about getting them to pay for a new pair of glasses for me, and get a few other questions answered. Other than nearly passing out when they drew blood for some tests (I was dehydrated and hungry, and not entirely happy with the fact that it took the phlebotomist an incredibly long time to draw four vials of blood, having to stick me in both arms and do some extensive searching to finally get it going), I didn't get much from the visit. I did do some additional grocery shopping, bought stuff for the candy store we run at school ($955 at Sam's Club - roughly $250 worth more than my truck can reasonably transport), and attended a meeting with other instructors in town regarding our upcoming Spring Camp. It was a pretty long day; I didn't get home until 2000, after leaving about 0645. The weather was bad, high winds and rain (yes, rain!) in town and on the way home. Finally, yesterday, I was going to do PT with the cadets, but we are also doing marksmanship training (.177 caliber air rifles), which took up most of the gym we use, so I got to go out to the football field/track with the kids who weren't shooting. Naturally, it started raining 5 minutes into our routine, so I had to cut things short. I spent the rest of the day with the non-shooters in each class talking about the upcoming Cadet Challenge, which is nothing more than the President's Physical Fitness Test. And now, a mere 5 hours after I began this story, it's about time to close it - so that mombear and I can get to the Post Office before it closes at 1:00 p.m., and so that I can do something else with my day. I do hope this missive finds you feeling well and doing well, and I look forward to being in touch again. Have a great day! Take care and God bless. Gary |