How We Got to ...Here.

If you're familiar with how the military as a whole works, you'll understand very truly the concept of "hurry up and wait." That's how this blog got it's name.

The overall concept is that you're rushing to get someplace, only to wait there once you've arrived. This is applicable to civilian life as well as life in the military. I can give you a bunch of personal examples, but instead let's start this whole thing off from where it would be most appropriate: the beginning.

For just about three years I was enlisted as an E3 in the United States Coast Guard. If you know nothing about how the military works (and if you're reading this, you're probably one of our friends, which means you DO in fact know how the military works) an E3 is relatively low in the pecking order. None so much truer than in the Guardians of Our Coasts.

Don't get me wrong: The Coast Guard is a wonderful organization and they do a hard job with little in the way of real-deal actual militaristic respect. In the hierarchy of the US Military, the Coast Guard ranks somewhere between National Park Rangers and NOAA.

I initially enlisted because I was bored, which I think is a reasonable enough excuse to sign your life up to be considered government property for a span of no less than four years (unless you find yourself in my case, and OptOut early... more on that later). I previously was a cop in a small town in the Northeast United States, have a Bachelor's degree from a pretty decent school... etc etc.

But like I said, I was bored. I had a falling out with my police department and I kinda bounced around for about a year until I was having lunch with a friend whom mentioned he was considering hitching up with the Coast Guard. Where I'm from, sadly, there's not much opportunity to grow career-wise, unless you're born into a thriving family business that's been established for a few generations. Just about everyone else shuffles off to the mills or to some sort of local government service (clerk gigs at the court house, say).

So hearing about this idea to join the Coast Guard was intriguing. But truth be told I had already been kicking around the idea of joining with the military anyway. I had seen a few other recruiters but had been scared off by the high pressure sales tactics they were employing at the time:

"I can get you guarenteed whatever job you want! I can get you an 80,000 dollar bonus! Sign up a friend and get an additional 20K!" That last one still sticks in my mind whenever I look at our bills.

So I joined the CG due to it's low pressure pitch. I shipped about a month after signing some papers and then found myself in a small unit of 20 guys and girls, rather isolated and miserable.

I ultimately left the CG because I wasn't satisfied with what I was doing. Advancement was tough, MOS schools were stacked with multiple-year-long waiting lists... I knew I could be doing more. Then, last February the CG was told to trim it's operational staff to save some budget room.

Little known fact: The United States Coast Guard operates on a budget that is literally a fraction of the size of one Pentagon-backed missile program. Given all the jobs and tasks the CG does, that's remarkable.

But yeah, they wanted to cut personnel and they floated this option that if you wanted to get out, you could. All you had to do was ask.

So I spoke it over with Jill, who was also tired of being where we were and where I was with the CG. She desperately wanted me to go be a Marine, whereas I wanted to be a military officer (not really branch specific), so it was a nice compromise. I started putting the wheels in motion.

The Marines said, without really saying it, that I was 'too old.' I'm going to be 29 in about a month, I run a 1330 2 mile, can do about a 100 push ups in a minute, and my stomach resembles what most men keep in their refrigerators, (a six-pack, dummy.) and I'm considered "too old" to be a Marine.

There's a funny aside here, actually.... when I met with the Marine OCS recruiter they had that stupid pull-up bar in their office. If you've ever been inside of a USMC recruiting office, they all have it. Marine Red, about 8 feet up off the deck. We got to talking about my age, and the PT requirements, and I mouthed off that I could do "at least" twenty-five pull ups, right here, right now.

The Marine recruiter blinked at me. I smiled.

So the jacket came off, sleeves rolled up. Now, normally I do about fifty of these in the gym, five sets of ten... crushing out 25 in one shot shouldn't be that big of a deal...

Only I was told that it had to be full extension, dead-hangs, with limited grip. I got 13. Lesson learned.

So I scrapped that plan, with the Marines. The next best bet (but not second best, mind you) was the US Army.

Remember when I said I had been scared off by their high-pressure sales tactics? Yeah, I was still going to face that.

I walked down to the local recruiting depot and asked if they recruited for OCS from that location. They said they did, only, this fat, pasty-faced fucking prick spent two hours trying to get me to enlist all over again. At one point he asked if I read the names of the dead when soldiers were killed over in Iraq and Afghanistan. I said "no, not really."

"But do you notice their ranks?"

"Yeah, they're all junior enlisted..." I say.

"Right! They're over there in the shit, man!"

"I don't see how this is helping your argument, Sgt..."

I was stupid enough to let this guy handle my case packet for about two weeks, after which time, (and numerous unreturned phone and email messages) I dumped him for another recruiting depot some 150 miles away. These guys have been pros.

So once the ball was rolling enough, I Opted Out of the CG with a lot of well wishes. I was pretty well liked by my unit and it showed. I got some really nice letters of recommendation from two of my COs from that unit.

But then we, Jill and I, found ourselves cast out of Eden as it were. No longer did we have the protection of being government employees, with all the health care coverage and monthly rent check.

Savings were purged, phone calls to the VA were made. I opted to sign up for classes at my local community college just to get a housing stipend from the Post 9/11 GI Bill. Jill still doesn't have health insurance coverage, and she needs it the most.

Here's to hoping, and this is what takes us to the present. This transitional period we find ourselves in, with all the uncertainties that come with it.

As of right now, I have an OCS Board date scheduled for Nov 1st. This is one day after not only my 29th birthday, but my first ever marathon. I like to think that I'll have 26.2 miles of running to think about what they're going to ask me on the board.

So this blog, .... this blog is a real-time chronicle of what Jill and I are going through, from the mundanities [sic] of our daily lives dealing with government bureaucracies and local institutes of higher learning, to the petty bullshit that I'm sure most of you, the reader, will identify with.

Oh, and I'll never, not once, apologize for the language in the posts. Sorry, but... I like to say F and S a lot. I serve my country, I'm forced to hurry up and wait. I can say shit and fuck if I want to.