Friday, October 29, 2010

On Traveling

Okay, still no Trav-O-Rama pics from when I'm on the road. This is less because I'm doing high-speed stuff that requires OPSEC than from the fact that I temporarily misplaced my cheap-o camera's recharge/download cable.

Shoes- So, going through the (always full of ass-pain) security lines, as I came out of the metal detector and and was replacing my three gray bins full of stuff into their rightful places before grabbing my shoes and belt and moving to somewhere out of the traffic to put them back on, some uber-traveler wearing plimsole flip-flops and nylon shorts goes waltzing by me with a very superior look on his face. Kinda like "I've got this dicked and you still haven't figured it out." Uh-huh. Check it out, my little shower-shoe wearing Twinkle Toes: those shoes do you no good in anything but getting through security. If anything bad happens, your shoes are a big, fat liability.
Bad Thing 1: Terrorist /random nut job on the plane. Your shoes are zero protection, and you have zero chance of using them (still attached to your feet) as a field expedient weapon. Foot stomp? Shin kick? Shin rake? Knee-buckler? Place-kick to the jewels? Nope.
Bad Thing 2: In-flight emergency/crash landing. Your shoes won't protect your feet from debris, twisted metal, other people's shoes as they run over your ass to get to the emergency exit.
Bad Thing 3: Post emergency survival situation. So let's say you survive the crash and the ensuing fireball, and you're on the ground wherever Mr. Newton's gravity says the plane will land. How good are your flip flops in triple canopy? A swamp? A mountainside? Yeah, I thought not.
Anyway, suck up the extra five minutes it takes you at the security point and wear a decent, reliable pair of brogans when you travel.

-Fitness on the Road: So, being tired of having my PT regimen limited to the quality of the gym at whatever hotel I'm in, and bored with push-ups, flutter kicks, and Hindu squats in the room, I started traveling with a kettlebell (hey, I'm authorized excess baggage, why not take advantage of it?). So, my first trip out with the kettlebell, I leave the room at the ass-crack of dawn to get a workout in. I'm feeling very smug and superior--kind of a fitness version of Mr. Twinkle Toes above--and head for the elevator to go outside and find a grassy knoll on which to kick my own ass. Waiting for the elevator, I run into another dude--carrying a kettlebell! How weird is that? Guess I'm not as original and kettlebells aren't as esoteric as I thought.

-Fall to your knees and give thanks: ...for the 2nd Amendment. I'm currently in what will be for me the third country in a row which the State Department ranks "critical" for violent crime. The Force Protection brief I received upon getting in-country is enough to make one want to spend the trip huddled under the hotel bed in the fetal position, thumb sucking. The bad guys are armed to the teeth, the good guys are outgunned, and the general populace are victims. It sucks. That whole spiel about how when guns are outlawed only outlaws will have guns is a cliche for a reason. That reason being that it's farkin' true.


SWAT explained here.
Newest installment.

N.J. Gov. Chris Christie calls Jon Corzine quintessential limousins liberal Democrat in America

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Good For Her

Katrina Hodge, Miss England, has completed her term as the island nations reigning beauty queen and will now go back to her old job--as a corporal in Her Majesty's army.

Good for her. Hey, it's not on the same scale as George Washington refusing to serve more than two terms and going back to private citizenship, but I'm more than sure that she could have cashed out on the deal and used it to leverage some sort of private sector gig.


Knives, Watches, Guns, and Shoes

I'll never be a fashion trend-setter. My kids have to be cattle-prodded to go to market with me when I'm in my "shopping attire"--basically monkey-feet, MC-Hammer looking 1980's weightlifter pants, either a wife-beater t-shirt or an old flannel shirt with collar and sleeves ripped off, and of course, the ubiquitous man-purse. It's a fashion look I choose to call "Bohemian Steroid," and the eye-rolling it induces from my progeny is worth every penny I (don't) spend to achieve my sartorial splendor.
Still, there's some stuff that you've got to pay for if you want the product to "get it right." Knives, watches, guns and shoes are personal items I won't short on. In the interest of ensuring I've got the right tool for the job, I'll make my wife nuts with the price I'm willing to pay. Conversely, I'll usually do a pretty good job at ensuring that I don't confuse "want" with "need." If a $60 G-shock will give me the functions and reliability I need, I'm good with it.
But I can understand somebody wanting to pay a little extra to add some bling to the functional tool for which they are paying. Hey, if you want to shell out an extra $150 bucks for the Suunto you want instead of the G-shock you need, knock yourself out. It's a free country.
Still, are these guys asking almost 90 grand for a watch? And people pay that? Okay, I don't know what a tourbillion is, but still...

Friday, October 1, 2010

Dude, It Was In Your Butt

Everyone gets a little creative license when blogging. So, I thought that there may well be a little exaggeration in tgace's post about what criminals/bad guys are saying vice what they mean.

Apparently, I was wrong.