Tuesday, March 13, 2007

They day I knew you were coming.

Dear Son\Daughter

Let me describe to you one of the best days of my life.

It was the young Agent’s first swing shift, and the many pushups and miles run at the academy would surely pay off tonight. He was loaded down with all sorts of gear he prayed would never be necessary, and plenty that he hoped to use tonight. Among the former were his sidearm, rifle, ballistic vest, and assorted other weapons. These were accompanied by ridiculous quantities of spare ammunition. (Remember my child; the only time you can have too much ammunition is while swimming or on fire, and I didn’t plan on doing either of those things that night.) The latter included his run-bag full of equipment needed to survive in the field, his binoculars, three flashlights, spare batteries and most importantly, a large handful of flexible disposable handcuffs. He really wanted to use those tonight.The sun was not down yet as he left the vehicle. It quickly approached the mountains to the west.

West, West, West. Those mountains are west. Remember that! That means home is a quarter turn to the right, and Mexico a quarter turn to the left.

Most likely by the time he was finished working tonight, that sun would have worked its way all the was around the world and appear to the east. After a short walk the pushups came in handy. He found a nice cluster of cacti, placed his hands gently on the ground and silently lowered himself to his chosen hiding place by the trail.

They would be coming this way.

Thus began several hours of waiting, listening and contemplation. He knew that other agents were lying in wait barely fifty yards away, but for all the noise they made he may well have been the only man in the whole desert. By now the sun had gone down but the sky was not dark yet. He watched both the sky and the world around him grow grey and fuzzy and then black. The mountains to the west remained silhouetted against the sky with a hazy gray outline of light. There was a perfect breeze and a calm silence.

I can’t believe that they are paying me for this.

Above them was the most amazing starry sky the agent had ever seen. There was no moon to rob the stars of their brilliant dominance. The stars were so many and so bright that it was very difficult to pick out any constellations. He looked for Orion in the night sky. He found it with some effort. From there he found the star that he and his wife had picked out as their own more than four years ago. He was sure the star had an official name, though he didn't know what it was, and he didn't care. To him it would always be their star. That was more important than any name given to it by some astronomer he didn’t know.

It was her birthday, and he was glad that he had moved to swing shift today, as it gave him an opportunity to attend church with her and have a relaxing morning at home to unwrap presents. He thought back to that morning. The plan had been to sleep in as late as possible, because he would have to work late that night. But six thirty rolled around and he heard her try to crawl back into bed silently. He had stirred, kissed her, and murmured, “Happy Birthday.”
She had just come from the bathroom and was sitting cross-legged on the bed with an anxious expression on her face.

“I couldn’t wait,” she said with a wry grin. They had been waiting to perform a pregnancy test till that morning in the hopes of a bonus birthday surprise. The two minutes waiting for the test had seemed longer than the nearly four hours he was spending on the trail. But even seemingly eternal minutes eventually come to an end. They had endured the five months of the academy without seeing each other. They could wait two minutes for a simple test. They went to check the test together.

“The plus sign has got to be positive, right?” he had said.

The silence of the desert had nothing on the silence they had shared right then for the tiniest moment. And then, just as the silence of the desert would inevitably be shattered by his shouted commands as he made his first arrest that night, the stunned silence in their bedroom was blasted away by tears, laughter, and prayers of thanksgiving, as they found out for the first time that they would be parents. (We have loved you since far before you were born, and the news that you would finally be joining us was more wonderful than I can describe.)

She had enjoyed the rest of the presents she got for her birthday, but the great news pushed them all to the background. He had been totally still for nearly four hours. He had had a few curious visitors. A young cotton-tailed rabbit had approached him to have a sniff, and a skunk had passed by close enough to be smelt, but not seen. Your father mused that under different circumstances a meal would have been made of the young rabbit, but he was working.

HA!! They’re paying me to do this!

Radio Traffic: "We just jumped seven that came up the east trail. We will be transporting them out. There are five more at the bottom having dinner."

A half an hour of further reflection passed.

Radio Traffic: "Yeah. They just bedded down for the night. We can’t get down to them without waking them up. What do you guys want to do?"

After a brief conference, your dad and his two companions decided to descend the rocky western waterfall and approach the subjects under the direction of other agents on the ridge.

They set out in the stifling blackness with ease until the descent began in earnest. They carefully placed each foot on the solidest ground and smoothly glided with the grace and silence of jungle cats down the rocky slope (this should read, “half stumbled half rolled down the rocky embankment like drunken stampeding elephants).

Your father learned many things on that decent. First and foremost was that eye protection will be worn from now on while traversing cactus infested desert with no lights on. The blood flowing from his torn eyelid and dripping off his chin taught him this very effectively. Secondly, the Kevlar lining of his field gloves stops the spines of a Sahuaro cactus about as effectively as would gloves made of toilet paper.

They were still several hundred yards up the canyon from the impromptu campsite, and by some miracle they were not detected. Your dad led the group as he was the only one who had been down this ravine in the dark before (Not that this mattered much, as blackness in a canyon looks very similar to blackness out of a canyon). They continued, slowly and quietly, not knowing how close they were.

Radio Traffic: STOP STOP STOP!!!

They stopped. Radio Traffic: Agent in the lead (that was me). Directly to your right less than ten feet, they are still sleeping. Pop em’ when your ready.

He was so ready. The three spread out and he whispered urgently, “Now!”

The three agents failed to take into account how accurate the estimate of ten feet had been. His third quick step off the trail did not yield the familiar feel of rock and sand beneath his feet. Instead it felt a lot more like stepping on someone’s thigh and it elicited a surprised and groggy yelp of pain.

“Er..Um… Patrulla Fronteriza! No se Muevan!” he whispered excitedly to the five men sharing a blanket under a large mesquite tree. He then blinded them with his flashlight and cuffed them together in a line.

The walk out was more enjoyable, because your dad got to use one of his many flashlights and four of his disposable handcuffs. On the walk back he once again saw the star that reminded him of the most wonderful woman on earth (Your MOM!!!), and he also thought of you.

Come quickly my child. We don’t know your face or your name yet, but we already miss you.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Wow.

I can't believe I have not posted since the new year. I will have a fun long post about my job and some other fun stuff later this week. I realize that no one will probably read this as I have been AWOL for so long, but I will send out an email.

In short, Things are great, Ajo is awesome. My job is spectacular. I am still a new guy, but I love the work. It is more fun than a person should be payed to do. I'll still take the pay check though.

I love everybody, and I should find time for at least one post a week from now on.

I have asisted in the capture of 101 illegals and 456.09 lbs. of MJ. Life rules.

Monday, January 01, 2007

Happy new year!!!

I feel sad. I am most ashamed that I have not posted in about a month. But the month seemed to go by so fast. Procrastinating always makes time go by quicker. I'll find something to procrastinate this month too so it will go faster. But not posting. Things are going well and there have been some developments in training.

Firearms is over. :(

We will have a four hour familiarization with the M4A1 the last week. Further training and qualification will take place in the field. :)

I only have and month and a day left for training. Then I get to work for real. :)

I got to beat up a girl along with another PT instructor in our stacking drill. :) :)

Only 3 more real days of PT left till they spray us with concentrated extract of assorted peppers and try to beat the crap out of us and take our guns away. :) :(

Spanish has only a week and a half left. :(

Driving starts Tuesday!!!!! :) :) :)

If you haven't noticed, There are far more smileys than frowneys. I am really doing well. I still have the biggest frownie of them all, because Lisa is not here with me, but overall things are really picking up and the light at the end of the tunnel has some shapes that are becoming visible.

I will try to remember to post, but as I said I am getting pretty busy. I look forward to seeing Mommy and Lisa at graduation. I have been selected by my classmates to be the class speaker. This is an honor I am glad to accept.

Just one more thing. I don't believe that any of you are planning this, but just in case. I have to have my guests approved ahead of time, so if any of you are planning to come but have not told me you probably won't get past the guards. Just a heads up. I probably can't get any more tickets anyway.

Love all you guys...And happy new year!!!!!

Sunday, December 03, 2006

BRRRRR!!!


Yup...I'm in New Mexico...Yup...that's in the south...........Yup.....it's normally not super freezing in the south.....of the United States........nevertheless.......Plants like this should not be covered with this much snow. Nor should the fingers of young trainees who have to qualify with their pistols on Monday. But we still can't use gloves. I wouldn't really want to use them anyway. It would impede my movement too much to insure accuracy. Then again. They were numb enough last Thursday to drop my score 20 points. Wish me luck.

Sunday, November 26, 2006

Lawrence!!!!!!

We had a tough week. We lost a couple of good guys. One of whom was gonna go to my station. One had family issues and one knows that he can't take the Spanish. Both of them made their own decisions and I will not criticize them. It's tough to see them go though.

On the upside we had shower remedials on Friday after hours. When the other classes were already going home and having chow, we got to go do exercises on the gravel road, after sprinting a half mile, and then be timed on how long it took to wash off the dirt and blood and get back into full uniform. When we failed to do it in 8 minutes we got to do it again. Luckily there were only 2 reps of this enjoyable Friday activity.

No wait...That wasn't the upside. Oh yeah! The upside was that one of our recently departed comrades had this guy for a roommate. This poor soul!The usual jokes were played on him, but in the end he was a welcome adopted member of our class, (though he has a class of his own) by virtue of his association with our recently departed friend. One of our favorite pastimes of late had been to call out his name loudly and obnoxiously as a class anytime we saw him on campus. This was at first met with chagrin as he felt singled out by all this attention. And the last thing anyone in a military style training camp wants...Is to stand out. You would think that since his connection to our class is no longer with us this foolishness would have ceased. And you would be so very very wrong. If anything our cat-calls have grown louder and more energetic, in remembrance of our fallen hero.

He has learned how to deal with it however, and now responds with little more than a wave and an indulgent murmur, "at ease 638."

The above picture was taken during one of these exchanges while we had thanksgiving dinner bar-B-Q as a class. Here is the alternative non-avian meat product we chose to grill. The turkey just wouldn't fit.

Sunday, November 19, 2006

Simon Says

Anybody remember what the punishment was for losing at Simon says? Cuz, I am pretty sure it wasn't extra push-ups.

We are to the portion of the academy where we have P.T. every day and the intensity is picking up. We are running longer and faster and we are spending more time in the mat-room moving our bodies up, down and side to side endlessly. Our instructor has many amusements. One of which is that he will wait until we are so tired by a particular exercise that we stop looking at him and he will alter the exercise to see who is not paying attention. This is amusing for those of us who have learned to watch him even while lying quivering and broken in a pool of our own sweat and drool. For those who have not...not so much.

One of his other favorite amusements is so similar to the aforementioned game of my youth that I would scarcely be able to avoid laughing...If my abs were working anymore that is. In the academy all orders are given with what is called a preparatory command followed by the command to "move." So when we are finished a set of push-ups and are holding the very painful pushup "rest" position, we anxiously wait the command to get "on your feet." But like in Simon Says, if you hear the preparatory command and execute it before the command to move, you are wrong. Unlike Simon says however, when you are wrong you are not excused from the game until the next round, which would indeed be a welcome punishment. Instead you incur the wrath of the pushup gods most sorely, and are most cordially invited to join in the P.T. festivities with increased vigor.

Picture a Mexican Austrian accent that bites off each word in a growl. And it goes something like this.

Instructor: Dowwwn!!

Trainees(screaming): Zero!!!

Instructor: Dowwwn!!

Trainees: One!!!

etc. etc. etc.

Instructor: Dowwwn!!

Trainees: Fifty!!!

Instructor: On your feet!!

shuffling of feet as foolish tired trainees get to their feet, accompanied by an undercurrent of grunts and groans from those trainees recognizing the ploy for what it is.

Instructor: Negative!! Negative!! That was a Preparatory Command only!! @$#*$%&*# How long have you been here!!

slapping sounds of semi-comatose trainees falling to the mat like freshly gutted fish to do their penalty push-ups .

Instructor: Down!!

etc. etc. etc.

Another recent amusement is to bring along various implements of torture for the run. Giant ropes, rubber M16's, and medicine balls. Medicine balls are my favorite. We run in two columns and pass them over our heads to the man behind us as we run. When the ball gets to the end of the column, the last man must sprint, screaming with the medicine ball over his head, to the front of the line and start the merriment all over again.

Being the newer, kinder and gentler patrol we have a gator (six wheeled mini truck with a stretcher in the back) following us in case one of us dies on the run. In "the old patrol" dead trainees were just left to rot in the sun as an example to future classes. Last week the gator mysteriously stopped running... At the furthest point from the end of the run. hmmmmm The instructor driving it looked at us and shook his head. "No gas," he stated simply. "Good thing we got all these bushy tailed trainees here with nothing else to do," he grinned.

A long and extremely profanity-ridden mile and a half later, the gator mysteriously roared to life again. "No gas?" a trainee asked.

"Not a drop," the instructor replied innocently. "Plenty of diesel though."

It really is a lot of fun. No sarcasm at all. I do truly enjoy the creativity they show in our workouts. It could be a lot worse and a lot less exciting. We are practicing with the electro-shock knives a lot more and practicing our strikes and submissions quite a bit as well. Hope everyone is well. Half way point is on Friday!!!!

Sunday, November 05, 2006

An open letter of apology to Ashton Kutcher

The Guardian.

I saw it. I liked it. I have apologies to offer. It has been my general opinion that Mr. Kutcher would have absolutely no ability to act his way out of a paper sack...If he were to ever find himself in a paper sack and acting were somehow the key to exiting the afore-mentioned sack. This Saturday I saw The Guardian. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

First and last impression is that this is very high budget recruiting tool for the U.S. Coast Guard. I would be curious to see it their recruiting numbers had been down preceding this films conception. I would not be surprised to find that recruiting was lacking and that it will certainly go up after this movie. It very effectively showed the U.S.C.G. flag and colors for an enormous bulk of the film. The end credits raise this not so subtle recruiting ad to all new heights as the rock and roll background music pounds in rhythm with the spinning rotors of rescue choppers and bouncing C.G. cutters. Gratuitous is the term, I believe.

The second aspect of this film that stood out was the gratuitous paramilitary training portrayal, which accounted for more than half of the movie's running time. I was particularly interested in this portion of the film because I am enrolled in a paramilitary training program right now. I am a member of a training class that has now lost 12 of our original fifty trainees to assorted real and imagined physical ailments. These have ranged from stress fractures and kidney failure, to delusions of rare diseases which cause toxin build up in seldom worked muscle tissue. I personally believe that at least 7 of our 12 losses were primarily "mental-weakness" related. (Translation: They wimped out and faked an injury) This is a result of the intentionally inflicted artificial stress that our instructors try to make a constant feature of training.

The best example of this is the opening scene. The opening credits roll as a large group of wide-eyed recruits roll up to waiting stone faced instructors. I exchanged significant knowing glances with the trainees who went to the movie with me. And when the first instructor boarded the bus and began yelling out his impossible expectation that the bus be empty and immaculate in 15 seconds; we burst out laughing, having heard those exact words just 7 weeks before when we had arrived at training, just as wide-eyed, in our own little bus.

I was not overly offended by the improbable twists and turns of the plot that forced the main characters into reliving past traumatic moments a little too conveniently. This is the stuff of
Hollywood. I would have been more bothered if the wise old retired mentor (Kevin Costner) had not luckily been present to head a rescue mission, when his star pupil with whom he had shared his tears, beers and bar-fights, found himself trapped in a sinking ship. I could have done without the sub-plot concerning the divorce of Costner's character. IT IS POSSIBLE TO HAVE A TOUGH DANGEROUS CAREER TO WHICH ONE IS DEDICATED AND STILL BE A SWEET HUSBAND WHO CONSIDERS HIS FAMILY AS WELL AS THOSE HE BRAVELY SERVES PROFESSIONALLY. Some day someone will make a boring film where this is appropriately portrayed.

I have procrastinated the apologies long enough. Ashton, I apologize to you. I have always been baffled by your fame and popularity, and frankly I have been incredibly annoyed by every character you have ever portrayed in any film I have seen you in. Only now do I realize that this may have been a mark of your true acting prowess. Your character was supposed to annoy me, and you did your job so well that I began to associate those feelings of annoyance with you in general. Having now seen you play a role that was not heavily seasoned with inane exaggerations of your character’s unabashed idiocy, I see that you can in fact act your way out of a paper sack were that to become necessary. This is fortuitous because I will no longer be forced to kidnap you and imprison you in such a sack to prove my point. In short I am sorry Ashton. I misjudged you. While I will still avoid the vast majority of your inanely ignorant films, I truly enjoyed your performance in this film and hope to see you again in a film where "Dude!!!" does not constitute fully half of your character’s dialogue.