Toughest Job in the Military

Disclaimer:  I very well may piss off some military spouses with this post and to them I say, “flame me in the comments or stop reading my blog.”  Also, the views I express in this post are not the views of the US Air Force, any US military branch, or the US government.

Now that that’s out of the way, let me tell you about something that pisses me off.  If you live near a military base, you’ve probably seen wives of active duty members driving cars or wearing shirts that say “Military Spouse: the Toughest (or most important) Job in the Air Force (or Army/Navy/Marine Corps).”  Are you fucking kidding me?!?!  How offensive is that?

The ground pounders will be happy to know they don't have it that bad.

You think you have  a tough job, spoiled military spouse who doesn’t work?  I DARE you to walk into BAMC or Walter Reed or Landstuhl and tell the EOD tech who got blown up disarming an IED or the Marine who took a bullet defending his men that your job is tougher than theirs.  Boo hoo, you have to live in your comfortable house with cable and AC and all your friends nearby while hubby’s gone for 6-12 months or more on deployment.  Cry me a fucking river you spoiled bitch.  You want to know who has a tough job?  The CE troops building the infrastructure in Afghanistan, the crew chiefs and port dogs and maintainers working on the flightline in the blistering heat, the medic in the ER receiving injured troops.  You, my dear, do not have a tough job.

I'd rather be a military spouse than do this job.

Pretty sure this Marine has a tough job.

People forget how tough it can be on the medical side.

Sure spouses are important.  They support the active duty member and take care of things while they’re away.  However, if it was that important of a job, we’d all be issued one upon commissioning or enlistment.  I’ve deployed several times without the benefit of a dutiful spouse waiting at home for me and it worked out just fine, thanks.

I'm not saying it's not hard to be a military spouse.  It's certainly harder than being the spouse of an investment banker or an accountant or a Wal-mart manager.  I do appreciate what military spouses do.  I've been deployed and received a care package from a military spouses group.  (though I think they forget that women deploy too)  The majority of military spouses are wonderful people who have excellent coping skills.  Unfortunately, it's the pains in the ass that are the most visible.

 What I think some of these wives forget, is that none of them are actually IN the military.  They did not enlist or commission as a wife.  It’s not an AFSC or MOS.  If they wake up one day and decide they don’t want to be a military spouse anymore, they can and do pack up their stuff and run back home to mother.

While I’m on the topic, I recently saw a spouse with a shirt that read, “Don’t Confuse YOUR Rank With MY Authority.”  Oh really?  Well honey, I’d like to advise you not to confuse your HUSBAND’s rank with MY authority.  You are a civilian.  I earned my rank and the authority that goes with it.  I don’t care what rank your husband is because I still outrank YOU.

Rule 5: Military spouses are great, but some of them need a little perspective.

Perspective

Fuck You Dr Phil

I’ve never much cared for Dr Phil and now after hearing about a recent topic on his show, he can go suck a bag of dicks.  You see, he did a show titled “From Heroes to Monsters” about troops who come back from deployments with PTSD and Traumatic Brain Injuries (TBI) and calls them “damaged goods.”  

Monsters?!?!?!  Really?!  Fuck you Dr Phil.  Anyone who has experienced what those military members have gone through and come back home WITHOUT any issues is the real monster.

I tried to find somewhere to watch the episode online, but can’t find anywhere that doesn’t look sketchy, so perhaps the episode was more positive than the title and previews would indicate.  However, the clips I saw seemed to portray the wives as victims who were afraid of these demons they had to sleep next to every night.

From what I’ve been able to find out from other blogs/reviews one of his “experts” is promoting his new book on PTSD and advises veterans to “use a strong mouthwash before bed” because poor oral hygiene can contribute to other health problems.  If brushing your teeth could “cure” PTSD, we’d have a handle on it by now, dumbass.  The book also quotes a study that shows that chewing gum can improve PTSD symptoms.  You know who sponsored that study?  Wrigley.

It seems that since the airing of the show, Dr Phil has changed the name of the show to “Heroes in Pain” but has not issued an apology.

If you'd like to hear from the other side of the Warfighter/PTSD community, check out Boone Cutler's radio show about this topic.  He's a GWOT vet himself and doesn't talk out of his ass like Dr Phil.

The Dixie Chicks Have Never Bought Me Dinner

As you may or may not know, I've been in the US Air Force for a number of years.  As a result, I've had experiences most people will never get to have. 

Like hanging out in a bunker reading Heinlein during a rocket attack

In 2009 I was deployed to Kandahar Air Field, Afghanistan to open a clinic for US Air Force members.  It was my first deployment in nearly 8 years of service and was nothing like what my training had prepared me for.  For one, it was a NATO base with a large population of Canadian, British, Dutch, and a dozen more European countries.

The Brits had the best coffee house.  You could get chocolate cake that tasted just like back at home.  The Dutch had a bar where the US forces were only allowed to drink near beer.  The German Post Exchange was everything you would expect from a German military shop...full of knives and other military gear.  The Canadians, of course, had Tim Horton's.  And the French...they had an amazing bakery where you could get a latte and croissant when you got tired of eating breakfast in the chow hall.

Afghanistan has one color...dust

On a deployment like that, one day starts to look just like another, so you look for things to break the routine and give you something to look forward to besides another day just like the previous weeks.  USO tours are great for this.  Personally, I was hoping to see my future husband, Henry Rollins, in Afghanistan on a USO tour, but he's been playing hard to get for years.  So when Toby Keith came to KAF that summer, a large percentage of Americans on base turned out to see the show.

Now I know that the popular thing to do is dismiss Toby Keith as an ignorant redneck.  What pisses me off about this is that this perception didn't start until he started publicly supporting the troops.  Before 9/11 Toby Keith was just like any other popular country artist, writing songs about drinking, cowboys, trucks, and women.  After 9/11, however, when all those other country stars (and rock and pop stars) were standing on stage in cushy air-conditioned venues professing their support for the troops, Toby Keith got on a plane to the sandbox to tell us to our faces.

Not pictured: Blistering heat and random rocket attacks

The show he did while I was in Kandahar opened with our US forces commander directing us what to do if a rocket attack happened during the performance.  That wasn't just a long-shot what-if scenario either.  At the time, we were getting rocket attacks about 3 times a week and Keith's last show at KAF was interrupted by an attack. 

Once the show started, he played all his songs about drinking, cowboys, trucks, and women...and for a little while it was like I wasn't in some shit hole in Afghanistan.  Then, there was a quiet moment, broken only by the sound of a single guitar before Toby Keith came in with the opening lyrics to "American Soldier."  The crowd was full of US Soldiers, Marines, Seamen, and Airmen.  Some joined in, "I will always do my duty, no matter what the price." Some gathered their friends, arms around their shoulders.  Some stood quietly, eyes filling with tears.  One of the most moving experiences of that deployment was standing in that crowd full of people singing, "I don't want to die for you, but if dying's asked of me, I'll bear that cross with honor, 'cause freedom don't come free," because I knew we all meant it and because I knew that some of those in that crowd would have to prove it.

For the final song of the night, Toby Keith played a song that he wrote after 9/11 and for months only played for the troops.  It was only recorded at the request of the Marine corps Commandant..."Courtesy of the Red, White, and Blue (the Angry American)."  The entire crowd raised a fist in the air as we all sung along at full volume.  I briefly wondered if he would censor "we'll put a boot in your ass; it's the American way," since we were on a NATO base, but I later realized how silly that was to think Toby Keith cared about being politically correct while performing for US troops.  That line was probably the loudest part of the show.

As the event concluded, Toby Keith addressed the crowd and told us how much he respects us and how much our service means to him.  Then he offered to buy us all burgers and beers when we got home.  He said if we went to any of his I Love This Bar & Grills and showed our military ID, we'd get a burger and beer on the house.  I got mine in Vegas the following November.

Rule #4: Celebrities should put up or shut up.

Hot Nerd Love

First, let me just state for the record that I'm a giant nerd.  A math-doing, Dungeons & Dragons playing, W00tstock attending, Monty Python quoting, Sci-Fi reading, Faire going, SCA Lady.  I refuse to acknowledge Star Wars episodes I-III exist and maintain to this day that Han shot first.  Even my beer drinking gets a scientific approach, but more on that later.

There are some myths about dating nerds that have been floating around for awhile now, and as a nerd myself I feel like I should address them.

The first is that non-nerd women should consider dating nerdy men because the nerdy guy will be so amazingly happy that a woman is letting him touch her that he will be supremely grateful and treat her like a queen.  This enthusiasm will of course transfer over to the bedroom and he will put forth more effort than a "regular" guy into satisfying his philanthropic lover. I'm not going to really do a point-by-point debunk of this because the theories seem to have been created by people who have never actually allowed a nerd to touch them.

I've been dating nerds for about 20 years now (holy crap! Am I that old?) beginning with Edward the trombone playing Boy Scout.  Most every guy I've dated since has been a gamer (computer or table top), IT guy, band nerd, Rennie, and/or SCAdian.  I consider myself an expert on nerd love.

The thing is: Most nerds are no different than non-nerds.  Some of them are considerate.  Some are douche-canoes.  Some really know their way around a woman's body.  And some couldn't satisfy a woman if you made them an algorithm and annotated diagram.

In the interest of full disclosure and to give you the hot nerd love promised in the title, I'll go ahead and detail the extremes of the spectrum.  Yes, these are totally stereotypical, but that's part of the fun.  Go ahead and blow up the comments section with your angry rants.

First, the Alpha Nerd.  He probably runs your D&D game.  In his teens and early 20's he holds court at game night at the local comic book store.  He either has a long-suffering girlfriend he regularly cheats on or has never been tied down to one girl and hooks up with whoever strikes his fancy on a particular day.  Either one will rock your Casbah.  They're good and they know it.  Take them to a gaming convention, Rennaisance Faire, or SCA event and they'll need to install a revolving door to their pants.  Fawkes from The Guild is a great example of this.

I hate that I want to do bad bad things to him.

On the other end of the spectrum is the Socially Awkward Basement Dweller.  He's probably had the same job since high school, though his dream job is to work at the comic book store.  If he's had a girlfriend, she was in high school and he'd just graduated and could buy her cigarettes and get her into R rated movies.  They're frequently sloppy kissers and clumsy ineffective lovers.  Check out Stuart the comic book store owner from The Big Bang Theory as a prime example.

The most attractive man on all non-Wheaton episodes of The Big Bang Theory

The flip side of the Nerd Love coin is the Geek Girl.  Popular opinion is that since their hobbies are male dominated, they have hordes of geeky dudes competing for their affections.  My male friends seem to think I must have hordes of single men breaking down my door because "ZOMG!  You make yummy cupcakes, drink beer, and play Dungeons & Dragons!"  If only.  The funny thing is that most of the men saying this to me are married to uptight chardonay swilling hags who won't let them out of the house to play D&D with their friends.  It turns out, men want a nerdy woman, but not one who's nerdier than they are.  I'm pretty epicly nerdy, so finding a nerdier dude is a tricky proposition, especially when they all got married off to mundanes years ago. 

This is what the internet thinks girl gamers do.

A few years ago, I was talking to a biracial friend of mine about nerds and relationships.  During a rant, I stated that I was firmly opposed to mixed marriages.  Just as I was about to have a very angry Marine on my hands, he realized I meant nerds/normals not different races.  I'm still amused by this.

Rule #3 Nerds should stick to their own kind.

Skinny Bitches Don't Make Fabulous Cupcakes

If you want an amazingly yummy cupcake, do yourself a favor.  Bypass the skinny bitch and find yourself a woman on the chubby side.  Personally, I'm reluctant to let women with a BMI of less than 25 cook for me.  I don't trust them.  What if they try to make my cupcakes organic, low-fat, or (horrors!) gluten-free?

There's a reason Paula Deen has diabetes and the body of, well, Paula Deen.  Her food is freakin' kickass!  If Paula Deen were shaped like Madonna, you couldn't pay me to eat her food.  If Madonna made cupcakes, that bitch would probably put applesauce and tofu and carob and shit in them.  Cupcakes should be made with butter and sugar and, if you're feeling frisky, beer!

Why yes, I'd love some fried pork products in butter sauce!

Kill it!  Kill it with fire!

In fact, if you see a woman browsing the baking aisle of the supermarket with a butt as big as Alabama, you should follow her home and get her to bake for you.  You will never regret this.  (Unless she freaks out about the being followed part and pounds you into an indistinct grease spot.  'Cause that's a possibility.  In fact, women on the curvy side are probably much better at scrapping than tiny waifs.  So, yeah, you might regret it a little bit.) 

If you're that concerned with your health, kindly step away from the cupcakes and find a bran muffin.  Or a salad.  Here are some cupcakes I recently made.  Full of sugar and butter and three kinds of booze!  They're based on the Irish Car Bomb cupcakes I found here with some slight modifications.  First, the batter is made with Lagunitas Cappuccino Stout.  Then I made the ganache filling with heavy cream and Knob Creek Bourbon (because I feel like I need to take up drinking bourbon).  The frosting is made with Bailey's Irish Cream, and a ton of sugar of course. 

I do try to be healthy, though.  Unfortunately my coworkers staged a rebellion and I was forced to make brownies (from scratch, of course, and with more chocolate than flour). That got them off my case until the weekend when I had time to make the Irish Car Bombs.  Apparently, you don't get nurses used to delicious baked goods and then make them wait weeks for another batch.  There's really nothing worse than a group of pissed off nurses. 

In the interest of not alienating my skinny friends, I'd like to note that there ARE exceptions.  I'm talking to you, sweetie.  Yes, you.  Really.  I simply adore your low-fat gluten-free treats.

Rule #2:  If you have to choose between baked good made by a skinny bitch or a curvy bombshell, pick the girl with the 'Bama butt.

The Chicken Fried Steak Manifesto

Even though I'm from Texas and my heart will always reside there, my actual address is often elsewhere these days.  As a result, I find I have very limited options in the chicken fried steak department.  I don't want to insult anybody, but before I continue, I feel I should explain the CFS for the bold cultural anthropologist who has somehow stumbled upon this blog despite not knowing from where the title arose.  In short, it's tenderized cube steak coated with flour, milk, and egg and your choice of spices and covered in cream gravy.  Legend has it that the German immigrants to Texas Hill Country adapted the dish from their native schnitzels, but no one really knows for sure.

Now I've spent most of my life in Texas, and when I get a good craving for chicken fried steak, I certainly possess the necessary skills to whip some up myself (along with homemade mashed potatoes,natch), but sometimes I just want to take the easy route and have one arrive at my table without me having to lift a finger.  The only problem it that I live in California at the moment.  (I'm stationed at a Northern California military base, so I'm able to keep my Texan cred in the land of granola eating hippies.)  My most recent dining experience there when something like this:

    Me: How's the chicken fried steak here?
    Waitress: It's really good!
    Me: Where's it made?
    Waitress: (confused) They cook it in the kitchen when you order it...
    Me: I assumed that much, but when they cook it do they pull it out of a bag and drop it in a deep fryer or do they take a piece of meat out of the refrigerator and start preparing it?
    Waitress: (hopefully) The gravy's made from scratch!

A few minutes later, she brought me a breaded meat patty that had clearly been living in the freezer until moments before and it was covered in bland sausage gravy.  The best I can say about it was that it was edible.  When the waitress came back by, I made sure she knew not to suggest the CFS to anyone claiming Texas in the future.  If I had my way, they'd put in on the menu:

    Country Fried Steak:  Frozen breaded beef patty deep fried and served with sausage gravy.  NOT FOR TEXANS!

You see, I think there should be a standard that a chicken fried steak must meet to call itself that.  Anything else can use the "country fried" label and come with the "not for Texans" advisory.

Did I mention that this was on a first date that had been previously going rather well?  I haven't heard from him since.  No big loss.  I need a man who has strong feelings about beef.  This (presumably native) Californian had a salad.

Well, this week I've been in Texas so one of my mandatory stops had to be for a Good Texas Chicken Fried Steak.  Sadly, my usual go-to place has closed down, so I was forced to facebook for suggestions from my fellow Texans.  Of course most of the suggestions were on the other side of town. That might not be a big deal in a place like Austin, but in Houston it could mean an hour or more drive each way.  A friend and I happened to be near Tomball, where we had been assured we would find chicken fried steak to live up to our expectations.  After spending a considerable amount of time driving up and down 249, we stopped at a pawn shop to look at handguns and see if the locals could point us in the right direction.  Sadly they could not and that's how we wound up in the parking lot of a Texas Land & Cattle on FM 1960.

    Eli (my platonic life mate):  Let's just try this place. My room mate says it has great chicken fried steak.
    Me:  You forget that I've met your room mate and he clearly has never met a fried meat that he doesn't like.  Besides, I've been burned before by the promise of a good chicken fried steak and been sadly disappointed.  It's an insult to Texas to call a breaded frozen patty a 'chicken fried steak.'  A chicken fried steak is made fresh with flour, eggs, and milk!  The gravy should be made with the drippings from the steak itself, not the sad remnants of breakfast!  And those pre-formed beef patties in a precice oblong shape?  Unacceptable!  They should be made with tenderized cube steak!  I did not travel 1600 miles from California for that!  The stars at night are big and bright and I'm deep in the heart of Texas and want a Real Texas Chicken Fried Steak!  I don't defend my country to come home and eat the same sad excuse for chicken fried steak that I get in a tent in Afghanistan!
    Eli:  Are you finished?
    Me:  For now, but I'm not sitting down until I have the assurance of the staff that they don't serve frozen chicken fried steaks.
    Eli:  Will they get the same delightful rant you just gave me.
    Me:  Quite possibly.  And it's a manifesto.
   
As it turned out, the host was quite accomodating and not only assured me that the steaks were prepared from scratch on site, but also promised I wouldn't pay if they didn't meet my expectations.  He then even offered to let me interview another patron who had just been served her own chicken fried steak!  I almost declined when I found out the patron in question was from San Francisco, but the steak did look good, so I went ahead and ordered one.

Final verdict:  It was not the best chicken fried steak in Texas, but is probably better than any in California.  Definitely the best I've had in the past five years except for when I've made my own.

Rule #1:  Do not eat chicken fried steak west of the Rio Grande or north of the Mason-Dixon Line unless prepared by someone of Southern upbringing.