I Have Been Remiss

I wish I could say that it was work that has kept me from writing, but it's probably everything else. With the Internet right here at my fingertips I have access to things like Texts from Last Night and Lamebook which provide literally minutes of entertainment each day. That combined with the unparalleled ability for America's fighting men and women to bullshit for extended periods of time have left me with little time to write, and little to write about.

I suppose I could tell you about Tablemus Prime, the transforming furniture engineered by Specialist Mills while he was still in charge of the tent. He took scrap lumber, hinges and electrical tape and turned a stack of tool cabinets into... ... a stack of tool cabinets with a table on top. But, the work table could be folded up and tucked behind the cabinets in case you wanted more room, much like the NordicTrac machines of the 80s, which could fold and up fit under any large, cumbersome bed. However, with Mills now in far away Zabul province, the remaining commo folks took great pleasure in disassembling and destroying Tablemus Prime.

We took off our hats out of respect for the life and service of the table. The soldier in the back there actually stood on top of it at one point to reach a high shelf, while it was already loaded down with tools, radio amplifiers and 20 lbs of paperwork. And Tablemus strained and cried, but supported her throughout the entire operation.

Most days the skies are incredibly clear, and at night I can see all of the stars that I've been missing for the last four years in good ol' overcast Rochester. I actually found myself stepping out of a port-a-john a few nights ago and was so struck by the number and brightness of the stars in the sky that I had to stop and stare a moment. You live under it all your life, and only on rare occasions do you take the time to look up and really see it. I only know a few constellations, but I was able to pick out Orion (thanks to Orion Pictures), Cassiopeia (courtesy of the movie Serendipity, thanks John Cusack), and Mars--Mars is red, and easy to spot. I know this from the movie Red Planet.

It seems like once a month, though, the rainclouds form from whatever moisture there is in this dustbowl and drops dirty, smelly rain on us for a day. While the smell of rain is usually a comfort, out here it's a combination of wet dog, and something truly foul, which is somehow much worse than wet dog. This happened on Friday, while my poncho was safely ensconced in my sleeping tent (not to be confused with the work tent) half a mile away. And of course I had some work to do outside, so the hoodie that my sister sent to me now carries the burden of a month of wear and stinky Afghan rain.

The ground soaks up as much as it can, but it still leaves huge, fetid mud puddles everywhere and misery abounds.