Up in the Air

This is the 4th of July (2016) weekend, and since I normally post a blog on Sunday I thought I'd share with you something patriotic. More specifically, a story from my time in the U.S. Navy.

When I was on the USS Elrod (FFG-55), I had a leading Petty Officer named Carl Barber, who being an avid photographer, always looked for opportunities to play "shutter bug".

RM1 Carl Barber - with camera over shoulder

Because of him I purchased my first "real" camera: a Canon T50. A real beginner's beauty:

Now, Carl was a REAL photographer. He knew all about F-stops and apertures, and all that shtuff. Me? I knew the "auto" setting.

One day we took a ferry ride around the coast of Maine, navigating around a number of small islands. It was the perfect opportunity to snag some photos. We got on the boat, got settled, the boat left the pier, went around the corner and right smack dab into a fog bank. The temperature dropped and the visibility went to zero. We sat shivering, clutching our cameras for the entire ride.

Not all opportunities were misses though.

The USS Elrod was an anti-submarine vessel. Among its gear were two SH-60B LAMPS MK III helicopters. Now, in order for a helicopter to land on the back of a moving ship, the helicopter would lower a cable to a crewman on the flight deck, who would drop it through the deck to connect to a winch. The helicopter would pull back on the stick, making the cable taught. The winch would then start to pull the helicopter to the deck, with the pilot maintaining speed to match the ship. Once the helicopter touched down, it would be clamped to a trolley-type device that, after the props were folded back, would be carted into one of two hangers.

On the way back from the Persian Gulf, I had the opportunity to go into the Helo-Control Tower and take some photos. Here are a few showing you what I just described:

And for perspective, here are a few shots I took FROM the helicopter of the ship:

The Helo-Control Tower is the windowed box sticking out between the two closed "garage" doors.

So, as you enjoy a burger or brat, and maybe a cold brew, take a moment to say a quick prayer of gratitude for those serving in our armed forces. I know I will.

©Emittravel 2016

You Can Leave Your Hat On

I'm a Clevelander. I love this town. I'm not a big sports guy, but I love watching the Indians and the Browns. I've never been a Cavaliers fan, but that's because I almost dislike basketball. When I was an altar boy (another story for another day), the priests would take us on field trips to events like the Cleveland Force Indoor Soccer games (Darth Vader would come out before the team, the Imperial March would play, and everything!). These games were held at the Richfield Coliseum.

Now it's an empty field, but back then it was a giant echo chamber designed to make the 5,000 Cavs fans sound like 50,000.

Times have changed in Cleveland. No longer at Richfield, the games are played in a nice venue right downtown. And there are far more than 5,000 Cavs fans.

One of the big fans is the CEO of the company I work for. This year, as an incentive for folks to root for the winning Cavs, he has bestowed a "jeans day" for after every game the Cavs win during the finals. Our normal dress code is "business casual" (making nooses - er, I mean "neckties" optional), so jeans days are used more as incentives. For instance, we do a fundraiser, and everyone who donates a certain amount are permitted to wear jeans on that day. Things like that.

So, it was really nice that last week, even with the Cavs winning a game earlier in the week (granting us a jeans day), that we were permitted to wear jeans on Friday in recognition of the Memorial Day holiday.

I decided to include with my jeans a special hat (I have more hats than my wife has shoes): A baseball cap with the name of the ship I served on when in the Navy.

There are rules of etiquette that I like to follow when wearing a hat. I guess I'm a bit old fashioned that way. For instance, you can wear a hat into an office building, but you should take it off upon entering an office. Same with a hotel. It's okay in the lobby, or even in the hallways. You should take it off upon entering a hotel room. Get it?

On this day I threw etiquette to the wind and decided to wear the cap all day. This caused me to be the recipient of a few compliments, thanking me for my service. My response was as follows:

"Thank you, but you have Veterans Day to honor us. Memorial Day is to honor those who never came home."

So, as you take time to gather with family and friends to eat burnt offerings of brats and burgers, and even to argue the taboos of religion and politics, please remember that there are a number of gravestones that designate the life of someone who has given that life up for you.

With deepest thanks, and prayers to those families who mourn the loss, I take my hat off to you, and thank you for your service.

-j.p.

 (The title is a reference to the song from Joe Cocker.)

©Emittravel 2016

Stacks o' Greenbacks

The company I work for is making a change in their payroll system effective January 2016. They are switching from an every-other-week format to a twice-a-month format (Bi-monthly? Semi-monthly? Split-infinitives-monthly? Gah!!). The new format moves us from 26 pays a year to 24. The company says this will help streamline the company's financials, and it makes sense.

The new cycle puts the pays on the 15th and 30th of the month. No, that doesn't mean that we only get paid once in February (Shhh - don't tell them! They might not have thought of that!) If the 15th or 30th (or in February's case, there isn't a 30th) falls on a weekend or holiday, the pay will hit the bank on the previous business day. So, if the 15th is a Sunday, the pay shows up on Friday the 13th ("Feelin' lucky? Punk?" - Dirty Harry).

I haven't seen that pay cycle since I was in the Navy. Back then the 15th and 30th were coveted days on the ship. Usually by the 16th, many of my shipmates were already broke (Pick a card - any card, or more accurately, "Texas Lose 'Em"). Not me. I was already establishing my life's philosophy of "I don't like kids. I don't play games. Get off my lawn!!" So card games - even for money - didn't interest me.

 
One of the more popular budgeting systems today uses an envelope system for handling money. You make an envelope for every possible expense, using cash as your primary purchasing method, and put the budgeted amount in each envelope. When I was in the Navy, I had my own envelope system. I would take the majority of my pay and have it sent home to a savings account. This was way before direct deposit systems were commonplace like they are today. So, the majority went home, and I received the remainder in singles. Yep. One dollar bills. The dispersing clerk hated me!

The first thing I'd do is set up the number of envelopes needed to get me from the 31st (or 1st, if there wasn't a 31st) to the 14th, or the 16th to the 29th; marking each envelope with the date in pencil (I was cheap and just erased the date and reused the same envelopes over and over and over). I'd take the money to my bunk, spread the envelopes out, and divide the singles among the envelopes. I then only used the money in each day's envelope for that day. If I didn't spend it all, I would take that envelope's contents and divide it among the remaining envelopes. Whatever was leftover at the end was added to that next pay and was spread out again.

The above may seem a bit overkill, but you gotta realize that I was one of the few with cash in my pocket - even if it was a sweet, sweet stack of George Washingtons. Where my shipmates tended to have less money at the end of the pay period, I'd have more.

I'm not too sure if such a system would work today. I don't get an allowance, and my wife and I share one "pot". But, if you are single, you may want to think about such a system for yourself. The other benefit was the large sum I had in the bank when I got home. Out of sight, out of mind.

Now the real question: Do you have change for a twenty?

© Emittravel 2015

NO REL PREF

I recently had a visit to a local hospital for some "lab work". That's a nice way to say that I had to go and get some blood drawn. I'm an absolute freak when it comes to needles. When I was a kid (pre-teen, early teen), I needed to have some surgeries, and one of the things they would do is give two shots in either the hip or upper thigh as part of the anesthesia. It would take FIVE nurses to hold me down for the shots. As an adult I say that only two were necessary (WINK!!) I even have trouble watching one of my all-time favorite TV shows: M*A*S*H. Whenever they show a needle I have to turn my head. Pretty phobic!

While at the lab, the staff had to update some of my records in their system, and one of the questions I was asked was what was my religion.

When I joined the Navy at seventeen years old, one of the many questions asked, in the multitude of paperwork, was the same thing: what was my religion. I grew up Roman Catholic, so that is what I put down. Later, when I turned eighteen, I announced to my parents that I was no longer considering myself a Catholic and was no longer going to church. They didn't like it too much, but since I was eighteen, they accepted my decision. That meant that I wanted/needed to contact the Navy to correct my "religion" on the paperwork, which is what I did.

When you arrive in boot camp, one of the things you receive are your dog tags. Dog tags are flat metal plates strung on ceiling fan pool chains that you wear around your neck. There are two tags. One on the main chain, and one on a much smaller chain that is hanging on the big chain. This smaller one is known as a "toe tag". Anyone familiar with shows like CSI should be familiar with the term. On the tags are your name, ID number, branch of service, blood type, and religion. Where it said "religion" it said "NO REL PREF": No Religious Preference.

Here, as I find myself at the end of a sabbatical, I find myself faced with defining the religion I ascribe to. This sabbatical has brought many things to light of where my head/heart/belief structure is, as you can read in past blog posts. I find that labeling my beliefs is much more difficult than it once was. I no longer consider myself Catholic. I've been going (for many years) to a church that jokingly/lovingly calls itself "Bapticostal" (the diligence in study of the bible as the Baptists, with the embrace of the movement and involvement of the Holy Spirit as the Pentecostals). They have been called Charismatic and Non-Denominational. And I have called myself the same.

I could have said "Christian", but the question was concerning my religion. "Christian" literally means "Christ follower", a disciple of Jesus. A relational word that describes a child to their parent. There is a big difference between calling yourself a Christian and calling yourself a Catholic (or Methodist, or Lutheran, or even Bapticostal). And, due to my journey during this sabbatical, I am having a lot of difficulty ascribing myself to one of them.

I turned to the lady and told her NO REL PREF: No Religious Preference.

©Emittravel

Fair Winds and Following Seas

I celebrated my 30th birthday in October of 1995. I remember turning to my (then) 60 year old dad and saying, "Remember when you were my age, you had me." Without skipping a beat, he looked at me and said, "Don't remind me."

For some reason I took that as a joke about him having ME, and that might be right. But upon reflection, it may be that he went through the same "crisis" as I was going through when he turned 30.

Thirty. That was the only birthday that I've experienced, in my 49+ years going around the sun, that had an impact. The rest were just like any other day.

Thirty was not necessarily the beginning of a new era, but the ending of others. Twelve years of school were over. My teen years. Four years in the Navy. Hell, even "dating" was over (I was married to my ex at the time). I felt more the loss of life, than the excitement of what was to come. C'mon: I was too young to be having a mid-life crisis!

This weekend I attended the end of another 30 year "life". On Friday, January 30, the USS Elrod (FFG-55) was decommissioned. Twenty-three of us "Plankowners" (the ship's commissioning crew) were there to watch her last crew disembark, and to see the last watch secured. The same twenty-three (out of approximately 190 crew) who had the honor of being there to first man the rails at her commissioning ceremony.

(Note: there were actually twenty-four of us in attendance. One was there by proxy. He was on a deployment, and was in attendance via Skype.)

The USS Elrod had 19 captains. I had the pleasure of serving under the first two. During her career, she sailed around two million miles and had conducted 19 deployments. I was there for the first deployment to the Persian Gulf in 1987-1988. She had served the United States proudly, in true recognition of her namesake, Major Henry Tallmadge Elrod, who served valiantly during World War II on Wake Island.

"To all the former commanding officers and former crew members in the audience, we want you to know that all the way to the end, Elrod's radars detected and tracked aircraft, her sonars detected and tracked submarines, her communication equipment function[ed] as designed, her guns shot straight and her engines ran fast." - Commander Brad L. Stallings, the final Commanding Officer of the USS Elrod.

Video from U.S. Navy of USS Elrod Decommissioning

After the ceremony had ended, the twenty-three of us gathered around to have pictures taken, with the Elrod in the background. We were accompanied by Commander Stallings and guest speaker Brigadier General Raymond R. Descheneaux. General Descheneaux had "jockeyed" to be in attendance, and we were proud to have him there. As a Marine, he spoke passionately of Major Elrod and his team's actions on Wake Island. He said that, when telling the Chief of Naval Operations (CNO) of his opportunity to attend, that the CNO "beamed", knowing the sacrifices made of both Major Elrod and the ship that bore his name.

My wife noted so accurately, that what we were attending was in essence a funeral. And like most funerals, the tone was somber at the event, and nostalgically joyous during the gatherings that followed. During the decommissioning, there was not a dry eye among us (as mine are wet now, while I write this), and we hung onto the memories shared with laughter the common expression.



My wife Lisa and I on the flight deck

Thirty years. Unlike the Elrod, whose future is either the scrapyard, or hopefully a few more years serving in a foreign navy, I still have many more to go. Many more years to build upon the memories and friendships that have been made.

To you, the Plankowners and crews of the USS Elrod, I bid you Godspeed in all that you do. Fair winds, and following seas.

Former RM2 J.P. Wiegand.


Me - outside of Radio

-j.p.

© Emittravel 2015

Over and Out!

Have you ever heard the expression: "Knowledge is power"? That is so true - in most cases, but not always. Sometimes knowledge can take the fun out of things!

I've never been much of a war movie fan. Never could find the entertainment value in them. Oh, there are the stories of great bravery and all, but for the most part, "realism" in a war movie can be a deterrent. Don't get me wrong; I don't hate all things "war" (M*A*S*H, Hogan's Heroes, McHale's Navy), I just could never get into them too much.

I'm not anti-military (even though the three television shows mentioned above tended to snub their noses at it). I served in the US Navy from 1984 - 1988. I was a (frocked) 2nd Class Petty Officer - Radioman when I finished. Frocked means I wore the stripes (and chevron), had all of the benefits and responsibilities, but without the pay. My DD-214 paperwork shows me departing as an E-4 (3rd Class Petty Officer), though my uniform showed 2nd Class Petty Officer (E-5). I really enjoyed my time in the service. I spent most of my time on the USS Elrod (FFG-55) doing what I loved. I kept my time to one term of enlistment for reasons other than the work.

One thing that the knowledge I had gained gave me, was a distaste for Hollywood's portrayal of the military. And it comes down to one phrase: "Over and out." Every time I hear that I want to beat someone OVER the head until they're OUT!

In communications, there are two possible ways to end a transmission:

"Over" - I am done transmitting. Please respond.
"Out" - I am done transmitting. DO NOT respond.

Every time I hear "Over and out" I hear "I am done transmitting. Please respond AND shut up!"

Hey Hollywood! It's one OR the other. NOT BOTH!

Sorry. Being that "knowledge is power", I just ruined movies for you.

So if you care to comment, please do. Over."

© Emittravel 2013

Stuff My Brain Says #43

According to a recent news article, the U.S. Navy's new "gender-neutral" aircraft carriers will not have urinals. My question is, would you get written up for leaving the seat up?

© Emittravel 2012

No Christmas In My Stocking

The following is the second of two Christmas poems I wrote when in the Navy. See here for the first. 

No Christmas In My Stocking

As I look out

and see the blue sky,

with its hot desert sun,

the thought of Christmas

is difficult to envision.

Outside the world

is water and sand.

For the water is the sea

and the sand is the far lands

that exist beyond the horizon.

Snow drifts are memories only.

Scenes of childhood

to reminisce the time away.

Snowball fights and ice skates,

homemade igloos and sleds,

and hot cocoa to warm

when the evening sets too soon.

As Christmas day approaches,

and even as it pass,

my prayers, dreams, and memories,

send my love homeward.

Though may gift not I unwrap,

nor holiday meal I share,

I give to you that love,

in the hopes that when home I do come,

it too will be Christmas day.

J.P. Wiegand

©Emittravel 1987



©Emittravel 2011


 

Oh Man, Not Another Poetry Lesson!

One type of writing I post on this blog is poetry. I know that many people don’t give a turkey’s quill feather about poetry, but I’m okay with that. I post them because they are about My Humble But Accurate Opinion. But instead of the musings of my mind, my poetry runs the spectrum of emotion. Starting in December of 1984, and running through the present, I’ve attempted to capture the issues of life as I experienced them.

The first poem, “Dreaming of You”, was written during some major changes in my life. I had gotten into the U.S. Navy a few months prior; the first time to be truly away from home and on my own. I was in love with a girl back home and missing her terribly. So, for the first time I put my feelings into writing. Truly one of my favorite poems.

After that I used that creative outlet to express myself. The way most of these came about was that I felt a deep desire to write, driven by an emotion strongly felt in my heart. Usually, the only way to describe that emotion was to start writing. I compare the experience to “giving birth”. Not that it’s something I’ve ever truly experienced, mind you, but the cycle seemed the same. It was laborious to do. Sometimes I didn’t like the challenge of picking up the pen, because I knew what I was getting myself into. Not until I knew the poem was complete would that emotion subside, and the “baby” was born.

Not all of my poetry came about in that fashion. Some simply were the results of exposure. Being a sailor, the life of strip bars and pornography was a usual part of the life, and effected my outlooks and me.

I guess the most important thing to notice as you read is my hunger for God. When I had turned eighteen, I had abandoned my roots as a Catholic to look for God on my own. I had become greatly disillusioned with what I grew up believing, and felt that there had to be something more. You will see in the writings my hunger for Him, and my eventual coming to know Him through a relationship with His son Jesus.

All in all, these writings came from within me. They were attempts to express my opinions and myself. Not all of them will strike you, but they don’t have to. But rest assured, at one time in my life they struck me – that’s why they were written.

I wish I could share some of the more recent works, but nothing has come out in awhile. Who knows? Maybe I'll be "struck" again and write more.

I post them with their original dates for a reason – they are a reflection of who I was at that time in my life. I hope that through them you may find some of yourself as well, or at least give you reflection on that person you used to be.

© Emittravel 2011

Memorial Day - Sit Down Already!

On Memorial Sunday, my church's choir sings a number from the upcoming Patriotic Musical - to be performed close to the Independence Day weekend celebration. During the song, which is a celebration of our country's military, members of the congregation who currently serve or have in the past served in our country's military are asked to stand and be recognized.

I hate it.

Not that I am ashamed of my time in the military (U.S. Navy, 1984 - 1988). I'm not! I'm very proud to have served my country; to be a plankowner (commissioning crew member) on one of our navy's finest vessels: USS Elrod (FFG-55). To have served in Desert Shield was an honor.

We stand and are recognized on Independence Day. We stand and are recognized on Veterans Day. But Memorial Day? No. This day is set aside for those who CANNOT stand. It is to remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for their country. They are in a different class from the rest.

No, we service members should not stand and be recognized on this day - unless EVERYONE ELSE stands with us.

To the fallen - thank you. May the Lord bless you and keep you, make His face shine upon you, and give you everlasting peace.

© Emittravel 2011