A Visit to the USS OHIO.

It was early morning when we pulled into San Diego Harbor to pick up Rear Admiral Konetzni, the Pacific Fleet Submarine Force Commander, and the 25 guests that we would be taking to sea for a day cruise. It’s a pain in the ass to position a nearly 600 foot, 18,000 ton submarine next to the pier, so we just pulled into the harbor and small boat came along side to transfer personnel. The admiral was the first to board and he raced to bridge to speak with me.

An Informed Electorate?

Sitting in San Diego County Superior Court on election day, waiting to see if I would be selected for jury duty, the conversation among the perspective jurors eventually turned to the general election. Nobody was talking about the presidential or congressional races, we were in California, the left coast, and the outcome of those contests was not in doubt. Instead, the discussion centered on the eleven propositions before the Californian electorate. Normally, I won’t hesitate before leaping into a political debate, but I was among strangers so I decided to shut up and listen.

Civic Duty Calls

I completely forgot that I had jury duty starting today. Luckily I chose to vote by mail this year. Kellie decided not to vote at all. She views politics as just another form of organized crime and she refuses to consort with criminals. For those of you who are less jaded, 

Please Vote!

Underway For Patrol

Just north of Submarine Base Bangor, a draw bridge spans the Hood Canal. Ships headed for the Pacific Ocean must pass through the bridge’s narrow opening, providing families one last opportunity to waive goodbye to their sailors before they head out to sea. One of the hardest facets of military life is the family separation. Ballistic missile submarines like the one I commanded typically deploy on patrols lasting just over two months. Six month deployments are not uncommon for fast attack submarines, and aircraft carrier battle groups sometimes deploy even longer. 

Subase Bangor is at the lower end of Hood Canal and the Hood Canal Bridge is at the upper right.

Underway

No story today, just a copy of my favorite picture. I'll write about it tomorrow.

If Men Had Boobs, Mammograms Wouldn't Hurt

Photo credit

Today, IASoupMama shared a blog post about how much she likes visiting her gynecologist for her annual lady parts examination that includes speculums, pap smears, and other fun procedures. She suggests it’s like a day at the spa. However, she’s not looking forward to her first mammogram.  I've never had a mammogram myself, but they don't sound very pleasant. The breast is compressed between two plates until it's about to burst, and then it's shoved into X-ray machine for portraits. (If you have man boobs do you have to get a mammogram? I'm not asking for myself; I have a friend who want's to know.)

For me, my once-a-decade anal scoping is anything butt fun, and I’m eternally grateful that my doctor pumped me full of midazolam, a Men In Black drug that produces amnesia. If I don't remember it then it didn't happen and I'm still a colonoscopy virgin. I’m also thankful that men don’t have to get penisograms. That might hurt. Although, if there ever is a need for such a procedure, I’m certain that discovering a way to make it completely painless would shoot to the top of our nation’s list of medical priorities. And researchers would definitely find a way to make the procedure pleasurable just to ensure that men don’t try to skip their annual penisogram. I'm not even a doctor and I can envision a number of ways to make the penisogram fun. 

So this is how you make an officer and a gentleman.

I had intended to become a lawyer, but that’s not what happened. Instead, what was supposed to be a temporary detour on life’s path turned into a thirty-year naval career. There are three routes to becoming a naval officer: you can attend the Naval Academy in Annapolis, MD; you can graduate from a university with a Naval Reserve Officer Training Corps (NROTC) program; or you can do as I did and earn a commission after just three months at Officer Candidate School in Newport, RI.

I've Lost That Writing Feeling

In the past month I've written just two posts. Lame. The left side of my brain has spent so much time geeking out on PHP, MySql, and Yii that the right side of my brain has gone to sleep out of boredom. Constantly reading and writing stuff like this:

while ($row = mysql_fetch_array($sql)) { //

$attr_desc = $row["attr_desc"];

$sub = $attr_desc . "[]"; 

switch ($row["attr_ctrl"]) {

case "D":

if($n==0) 

{

 echo ("<select name=" . $sub . ">"); 

$n=1; 

} 
blah, blah, blah – kills any chance of writing stuff like Crimsom Tide or  I Had a Plan.

In a desperate effort to resume blogging, I've just signed up for the BlogHer's November NaBloPoMo. I am not a her, but since two-thirds of my dwindling readers are female I guess I'm okay. And I have no idea what the hell NaBloPoMo means except that to participate I have to write everyday. I fully acknowledge that today's post is a rather feeble effort, but a man has to start somewhere.

Be Careful About What You Post On Facebook

When I’m not working, Kellie complains about the loss of income.  When I am working, she complains about my schedule interfering with her travel plans.  To remedy the situation, Kellie recommended that I get a job that not only pays well, but also allows me to deliver my services from any location. Regrettably, I'm not properly equipped to be the next Deuce Bigalow. 

I Had a Plan

I always insist on having a plan, but my senior year of college was half over and I still had no idea how to pay for law school. Sitting in my mother’s house during winter recess, I wondered if the armed forces might have a program that would fund my education. So I spent a day visiting the local recruiting offices near my home in Massapequa, NY.  The Navy recruiting office was my last stop, but like the other service branches, they had no need for lawyers. They were looking for warriors. As I was walking out the door the recruiter asked, “Hey, what’s you major?”

“Physics and philosophy,” I replied.

“Come back here and let me tell you about our nuclear power program.”