Well, here we are, on the first official day of fall...I think. I'll have to check my farmer's almanac. Anyway, today is also the first day of the fall quarter here at THE Ohio State University, and I'm furiously typing away on a computer in the main library. It's a balmy 70 degrees in Columbus (the weather girl kept saying that it was hot outside this morning...lemme tell you about a little place called Florida, sweetheart!), the campus is just as I remember it, and I'm fully prepared for round two of a hearty ass-whooping from the educational system. Because it's been a while since I've written, I'll catch you up.
So my last entry talked about how the summer quarter was trying to kill me, one calculus equation at a time. Well, I'm proud to say that when the dust settled and the grades got turned in, I managed three As and a B. The B was in my computer science class, which I was just hoping to squeak through with a C- to keep from ever having to see that nonsense again; the B was a pleasant surprise. And yes, I managed to get an A in calculus! Granted, I finished with an 89.6%...but round that bad boy up to the nearest whole number - as is required by published guidance - and voila! 90%. So I got an A by virtue of 1/500th of a point. Skin of my teeth? Maybe. But I'll take it. Also, since that was my very last math class ever, I've kept my streak alive of getting an A in every college math class I've taken (first attempt at college in 1996 excluded, of course). So I wound up with a 3.68 GPA, good enough to put me in the top 15% of my class and fill my mailbox with solicitation from honor societies. Nice...
For my break between terms, I went to Florida to see Jess for a few weeks. What a great trip! Granted, it was hotter than the surface of Mercury (the side that faces the sun) and humid to boot, but it was great to see her again. There was much relaxing, much swimming in the ocean, and much eating of good food. I managed to see some old friends while I was down there (though I didn't get to do as much visiting as I'd hoped, but I felt that my time was better spent with my honey). Kicking and screaming, I headed back to Columbus last Friday. I really do like it better up here; the little thermometer doo-hickey in my truck didn't drop below 97 degrees until I got north of Nashville. It was over 100 through pretty much all of Alabama. When I pulled in my driveway here, it was 54. I was actually cold in my t-shirt and shorts! Jess is gonna come up to visit at Christmas, so I'll be able to turn the tables on her...I hope it snows!
So now I'm back at school. The campus is alive; there are 5,000 new freshmen wandering around all lost and dopey-lookin' who weren't here in the summer. In fact, there are about 40,000 more students here now than there were last quarter. Parking is gonna be an interesting experience. Time to start riding the motorcycle to school! My first class isn't until 9:30 AM, and it's "The History of Rock and Roll." I'm thinking of just coming into the classroom with my Les Paul slung over my shoulder. One would think that would earn me an automatic A. Extra credit, if nothing else, right? I mean, I'm MR. Rock-and-Roll! In kindergarten we had to bring in our favorite song one day; there were lots of Disney records, a few nursery rhymes, stuff like that. Me? I walked in with ZZ Top's "Eliminator" album tucked under my arm. "Sharp Dressed Man, please." Needless to say, I'm not expecting any curveballs in this class. I also have Business Management 330, which is OSU-speak for "another round of statistics." Rounding out my schedule is an Earth Science class, "The Geology of the National Parks" (get it? Rounding out? Earth Science? Because, you know...the Earth...round...never mind. Just forget it). I think stats is gonna be my brainbuster this quarter. Fortunately, I made good friends with everyone in the math lab last quarter with my calculus debacle, so I'll be able to hit them up again. I may have to bribe them, though...
Also, it's FOOTBALL SEASON!!! I had a ticket to the game this weekend, but the Reserves expects me to be in Dayton, so I had to sell it. The next game I'll be here for is against Indiana in a few weeks. By then the air should be crisp, the leaves should be changing, and the place will be GORGEOUS!. Don't worry...I'll take pictures.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to run along so I can teach the professor about Robert Johnson, Blind Willie McTell, and the Beatles. I wonder if my story about meeting Warren Haynes and Buddy Guy will be enough to excuse me from the final...
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Treading water, or where the hell is Kurt Vonnegut when you need him?
I'm a liar. A big, fat liar whose pants, as a matter of fact, just happen to be on fire. A few weeks ago I promised you I would write, but I never got around to it. For that, I apologize. However, this is nothing new for me. I don't often write; ask my mother. She had to threaten to take me out of the will unless I wrote to her while I was deployed. And then, I'd generally write something along the lines of "Dear mom, hope this finds you well. It's hot here, and I'm tired of sand. Please put me back in the will. Your son." Or something similar to that, anyway (though I'm not really sure what that threat was supposed to mean; who was she gonna give her stuff to, my brother?). So you see, this is a recurring issue for me. But I don't want you to think that I don't WANT to write, because I do. It's just that I've gotten myself into a situation that demands pretty much every waking moment of my life, and those moments get longer and longer as I am slowly deprived of sleep, like a prisoner of war.
I'm halfway through the summer quarter at Ohio State, and it is kicking. My. Ass.
There. I said it. School is hard. And it's not like I'm new at this. After 12 years on active duty, I've done my share of school. Every time I would turn around, there was another course I had to complete, or some training event I had to attend. I also managed to get three (count 'em, three) associate's degrees in the past few years. But this is unlike anything I've ever done. This is just sick.
Before you all get to feelin' sorry for me, let me say this. Going to Ohio State is not only a dream come true, but it's the most enjoyable thing I've done in a very long time. Every day as I walk across the campus, through the Oval, along its meticulously manicured carpet of deep green grass and brick walks, I look at buildings like Orton Hall, University Hall, Ohio Stadium, and Thompson Library and am awestruck at the majesty of this place. How many hundreds of thousands of fellow Buckeyes have walked these same paths, had these same experiences, and been forever changed by this grand old girl! It is truly a humbling experience, and I consider myself lucky to be able to take part in it for myself. The fact that I get to be here for free (thank you, GI Bill) makes it that much sweeter.
But on the other side of the coin is the work it takes to be here. Having been in school in some form or another for the past 28 years, I will say that this is, beyond all doubt, the most difficult thing I've ever done. Get comfy, I feel a story coming on...
Ohio State is a world-class university. It is consistently ranked among the top 25 best universities in the country, and it is the jewel in the crown of Ohio's higher learning institutions. One reason is its football program, which can stomp a mudhole in the ass of pretty much any program out there (when they aren't blowing it down their leg, but that's a story for another time). Another reason is the high academic standards. The classes are tough! I'm currently taking four classes; I have a computer science course, a humanities course, a calculus course, and a business admin course. Aside from the business admin course, which is online and a requirement for all business students, any one of the other three classes would totally monopolize my time. Combine all three, and it just crushes any hopes of down time I might be foolish enough to entertain.
The computer science class is basically a "how to use Excel and Access" class. Now, I've been using Excel for years in the Air Force. Problem is, we didn't use it to anywhere NEAR its potential; we used it basically as pre-lined paper. Never have I used any of the functions or calculation abilities of Excel. As the course director put it, my use of Excel in the past was akin to "driving around in an airplane, not realizing that it could fly." And for those who have never written Excel formulas, it's not unlike learning a foreign language. The homework for this class is pretty brutal, too. The class meets Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and every night I have about three spreadsheets to build, plus chapters in the book to read, plus a multi-page prelab assignment to complete by Thursday. It's not uncommon for me to spend two hours a night on this, though before I figured out the trick to this course I was spending four to five hours a night.
The humanities course is actually very enjoyable. The instructor is a younger guy, working on his master's degree. He's very into the subject matter and he knows what he's talking about. In a nutshell, this is a literature class. But because he's a religious studies major, our books all have a religious theme. We read "Black Elk Speaks" by John Niehardt, a book about a Sioux medicine man, "Under the Banner of Heaven" by Jon Krakauer, about the Fundamentalist Latter-Day Saints (specifically about two FLDS brothers who killed a woman and her 15-month old daughter because God instructed them to), and we're currently reading "Salvation on Sand Mountain" by Dennis Covington, about his experiences with Pentecostal snake-handlers in the Appalachians. Real "on the fringes of normalcy" stuff, and honestly, it's fascinating. What makes this class difficult is that it's a First Term class; that means that instead of being 10 weeks long like a full quarter class, it's only 5 weeks long. Our reading assignments for Black Elk, for example, were "Mon - read chapters 1-10. Tues - read chapters 11-18. Wed - read chapters 19-26." So in three days, we read the entire book. And it's not a small book, or one that's particularly easy to read. I was reading for two hours a night on average, and that doesn't include the time spent to answer questions on the reading we were given in handouts. This process was repeated for the other two books as well.
And then there's calculus. I took business calculus in Florida, so I'm not completely new to this subject. I got an A, too...so I know I can do this stuff. But that was over a year ago, and calculus isn't something you use everyday. Couple this with the fact that I'm taking a night class (which cuts into my study time for the other two classes), and calculus has become my most difficult subject. After failing to knock the cobwebs off my brain in the first few weeks of class, I've learned the hard way that the only way I'm gonna understand this material is to do lots of homework, beyond what is assigned by the teacher. Fortunately, the college has free math tutoring at the Math Learning Center. I plan to frequent this establishment as I get my analytical brain back online. Unfortunately, lots of calculus homework takes lots of time, something that - if you've been paying attention - I don't really have much of. But my humanities class ends next week, so I'll be able to use that time to study calculus.
I hope I don't sound like I'm whining, because nothing could be further from the truth. I'm here voluntarily, and I wouldn't trade this experience for anything. I just need to blow the dust off of my time management skills, which atrophied badly during the six months I had between my last day at work and my first day at school. And, it will never be harder than it is right now. This is my first quarter, I'm taking some difficult classes, and I miss Jessica. Every term from here on out will be one term closer to graduation, every day the campus gets a little bit smaller, and every day is one day closer to seeing my baby again. Before I know it, I'll have this school business down pat, and I'll be wondering why I was so stressed out. And it's almost football season; I'll be able to mark my time with each passing Saturday. I bought my season tickets, so I'll be in the student section for all the in-conference home games. Watch for me on TV...I'll be the guy in the red shirt.
So that's school so far. It's the most enjoyable ass-kicking I've ever received, and I wouldn't have it any other way. If it was easy, everyone would do it. So if you don't hear from me for a while, it's not because I don't like you anymore (though, I wouldn't rule that option out TOO quickly). It's more likely that I'm trapped under a pile of loose-leaf paper, furiously calculating antiderivatives and differential equations.
"All men are created equal. A very select few get to be called Buckeyes."
Friday, June 18, 2010
Waylaid by Jackassery
Okay, so it's been weeks since I've written anything here. I know, I know. I've let down my followers, and for that I apologize. For the record, I have no idea why I haven't written. I've been doing stuff. New stuff. Blog-worthy stuff. Like, I completed my first Reserve drill weekend, I went to the orientation at Ohio State, I found a new band to play in...stuff like that. And I WANT to tell you all about it. I just haven't been in a creative writing mood. But fear not; school starts on Monday, and soon I'll find myself with much less time on my hands. Thus, I'd better pen my thoughts before I get too mired down with homework and stuff.
So my promise to all of you (and to myself, since I'm the reason why I started this thing in the first place) is that by this time next week, there will be at LEAST two new entries for your reading enjoyment.
More to follow...
So my promise to all of you (and to myself, since I'm the reason why I started this thing in the first place) is that by this time next week, there will be at LEAST two new entries for your reading enjoyment.
More to follow...
Friday, April 30, 2010
Phase One Complete
Lots to catch up on since my last foray into creative writing for mostly anonymous readers (thanks to my four followers; I promise I won't go all Jonestown on ya).
I am now living in Ohio. Let me say that again, since it still hasn't really hit me yet. I am now living in Ohio. For those who may not know, this is my home turf. I was born and raised in Cleveland, about two hours north of here on Lake Erie. For those of you with smart-ass jokes about Cleveland, the Browns, the Indians, LeBron James, Earnest Byner, Bernie Kosar, Life's a Plum, The Mistake By The Lake, Jacobs Field, Gund Arena (no, it's not an STD), hypodermic needles washing ashore at Edgewater Park, the Cuyahoga River catching on fire, Drew Carey, snow tires, potholes, Polish people, Parma, pierogies, or the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, go ahead and laugh about them to yourselves. Get it out of your system...I'll wait.
...sigh...
Feel better? May I continue? Thank you.
So as I was saying, I'm a lifelong Buckeye. When I joined the Air Force it was my goal to get as FAR away from Ohio as possible. I was successful, too. This is the first time since 1998 that I've had an Ohio address, and to be honest I have mixed emotions. It's nice up here. I'm comfortable up here. There are no hurricanes or fire ants up here. Things are cheaper up here. But Jess is still stuck in the mire that is Florida. The Ham is still down there too, as are my friends for the last nine years. Now I'm in an unfamiliar town with unfamiliar people, and I'm all by myself. Sure, Cleveland is just two hours away, but when has "visit your family" been the answer to any of your problems? It may be the answer to THEIR problems, but this isn't about them. So there. Nyah!
Let me also say this. Moving sucks out loud. The gub'mint moved my household goods up here on their dime, which helped. Monday I had people packing all my stuff into boxes; Tuesday I had people loading those boxes onto an 18-wheeler. This Monday, those same people will pull up to my new house in said 18-wheeler and put all those boxes inside for me. However, even with all that help, I still managed to spend my final 30 hours in Florida (also my final 30 hours with Jess and Ham) packing and moving. The movers can't take certain items like aerosols or flammable liquids. But I still need shaving cream and gas for the lawnmower, so I had to schlep that crap up here with me. I had my '56 Chevy on a trailer, and it was jammed with stuff; dog stuff, house stuff, car stuff. My truck was jammed with stuff as well. Stuff that, naturally, I can't live without. More accurately, it was stuff that the movers didn't take but that I couldn't just leave behind. I should have sorted it out and thrown away what I didn't need, but I had no time for that. In a box it goes, to be not sorted/not thrown away up here.
Overall, the trip up was uneventful. I had blue skies and warm sunshine the entire drive, and my truck is a towing monster. Aside from getting HORRENDOUS gas mileage I couldn't really tell that I had a 3200 lb car back there. Sam was crashed out in the back seat on his bed. He never threw a fit; every now and again he'd sit up and look around, almost as if to see where we were. He enjoyed a delicious roast beef sandwich at Arby's, since dog food doesn't go over too well in the truck (side note - Arby's Beef and Cheddar sandwiches aren't good road food. The cheese sauce on my jeans is proof). We stopped two or three times to stretch our legs, make some phone calls (me), drink some water (both of us), and pee on sign posts (mostly him, but you know...I'm kind of a boy). We pulled into the driveway of our new place at about 2 AM this morning. Once I got the pillows, linens, air mattress, and cooler out of the truck, sleep was instantaneous.
Today we got up, made some coffee, went out to pee (just him this time), and finished unloading the truck. I turned in the trailer on my way to the rental office to sign the lease. When I went to disconnect the trailer from the hitch on the truck, I noticed that the ball was loose. In fact, it was so loose that the nut that holds it to the hitch was halfway off! Did you ever get that cold sweat feeling, like you just escaped disaster? It happened to me right then. I was hauling - and I mean HAULING, 75-80 mph for 14 hours - towing my car, my prized possession, my labor of love for the past twentysomething years, and the only thing that was keeping it from flying off the road to its gristly demise was a few threads on a trailer ball. Wow, thanks for helping me on that one, dad! I'm certain that had I been en route to Cleveland I'd have totaled my car.
I signed the papers for the lease on my new crib. Once I get some pics of the place I'll put them up here so you can see what poverty looks like. I hope the rental company takes rolled coins. Not that I have any of those either, but I like having options.
And now here I am, sitting in a McDonalds stealing their WiFi at midnight because the jerks who lived in the house before me weren't kind enough to leave the cable turned on. Ingrates! Hopefully I can get it taken care of Monday or Tuesday; otherwise I'll be eating a lot of fries so I can stay connected with the world.
Now that I think about it, I have no earthly business sitting in a McDonalds at midnight. It's time to go home. You're pretty much all caught up now, except for the park and the river. "Wait, what park and river, Steve?" you may be asking yourself. Stay tuned for that. The night manager is looking at me funny because I've been nursing this diet lemonade for an hour now. That's my cue to split.
I am now living in Ohio. Let me say that again, since it still hasn't really hit me yet. I am now living in Ohio. For those who may not know, this is my home turf. I was born and raised in Cleveland, about two hours north of here on Lake Erie. For those of you with smart-ass jokes about Cleveland, the Browns, the Indians, LeBron James, Earnest Byner, Bernie Kosar, Life's a Plum, The Mistake By The Lake, Jacobs Field, Gund Arena (no, it's not an STD), hypodermic needles washing ashore at Edgewater Park, the Cuyahoga River catching on fire, Drew Carey, snow tires, potholes, Polish people, Parma, pierogies, or the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, go ahead and laugh about them to yourselves. Get it out of your system...I'll wait.
...sigh...
Feel better? May I continue? Thank you.
So as I was saying, I'm a lifelong Buckeye. When I joined the Air Force it was my goal to get as FAR away from Ohio as possible. I was successful, too. This is the first time since 1998 that I've had an Ohio address, and to be honest I have mixed emotions. It's nice up here. I'm comfortable up here. There are no hurricanes or fire ants up here. Things are cheaper up here. But Jess is still stuck in the mire that is Florida. The Ham is still down there too, as are my friends for the last nine years. Now I'm in an unfamiliar town with unfamiliar people, and I'm all by myself. Sure, Cleveland is just two hours away, but when has "visit your family" been the answer to any of your problems? It may be the answer to THEIR problems, but this isn't about them. So there. Nyah!
Let me also say this. Moving sucks out loud. The gub'mint moved my household goods up here on their dime, which helped. Monday I had people packing all my stuff into boxes; Tuesday I had people loading those boxes onto an 18-wheeler. This Monday, those same people will pull up to my new house in said 18-wheeler and put all those boxes inside for me. However, even with all that help, I still managed to spend my final 30 hours in Florida (also my final 30 hours with Jess and Ham) packing and moving. The movers can't take certain items like aerosols or flammable liquids. But I still need shaving cream and gas for the lawnmower, so I had to schlep that crap up here with me. I had my '56 Chevy on a trailer, and it was jammed with stuff; dog stuff, house stuff, car stuff. My truck was jammed with stuff as well. Stuff that, naturally, I can't live without. More accurately, it was stuff that the movers didn't take but that I couldn't just leave behind. I should have sorted it out and thrown away what I didn't need, but I had no time for that. In a box it goes, to be not sorted/not thrown away up here.
Overall, the trip up was uneventful. I had blue skies and warm sunshine the entire drive, and my truck is a towing monster. Aside from getting HORRENDOUS gas mileage I couldn't really tell that I had a 3200 lb car back there. Sam was crashed out in the back seat on his bed. He never threw a fit; every now and again he'd sit up and look around, almost as if to see where we were. He enjoyed a delicious roast beef sandwich at Arby's, since dog food doesn't go over too well in the truck (side note - Arby's Beef and Cheddar sandwiches aren't good road food. The cheese sauce on my jeans is proof). We stopped two or three times to stretch our legs, make some phone calls (me), drink some water (both of us), and pee on sign posts (mostly him, but you know...I'm kind of a boy). We pulled into the driveway of our new place at about 2 AM this morning. Once I got the pillows, linens, air mattress, and cooler out of the truck, sleep was instantaneous.
Today we got up, made some coffee, went out to pee (just him this time), and finished unloading the truck. I turned in the trailer on my way to the rental office to sign the lease. When I went to disconnect the trailer from the hitch on the truck, I noticed that the ball was loose. In fact, it was so loose that the nut that holds it to the hitch was halfway off! Did you ever get that cold sweat feeling, like you just escaped disaster? It happened to me right then. I was hauling - and I mean HAULING, 75-80 mph for 14 hours - towing my car, my prized possession, my labor of love for the past twentysomething years, and the only thing that was keeping it from flying off the road to its gristly demise was a few threads on a trailer ball. Wow, thanks for helping me on that one, dad! I'm certain that had I been en route to Cleveland I'd have totaled my car.
I signed the papers for the lease on my new crib. Once I get some pics of the place I'll put them up here so you can see what poverty looks like. I hope the rental company takes rolled coins. Not that I have any of those either, but I like having options.
And now here I am, sitting in a McDonalds stealing their WiFi at midnight because the jerks who lived in the house before me weren't kind enough to leave the cable turned on. Ingrates! Hopefully I can get it taken care of Monday or Tuesday; otherwise I'll be eating a lot of fries so I can stay connected with the world.
Now that I think about it, I have no earthly business sitting in a McDonalds at midnight. It's time to go home. You're pretty much all caught up now, except for the park and the river. "Wait, what park and river, Steve?" you may be asking yourself. Stay tuned for that. The night manager is looking at me funny because I've been nursing this diet lemonade for an hour now. That's my cue to split.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Kafka, eat your heart out
As many of you may know, I'm getting ready to undergo a major change in my life. No, I'm not gonna be a daddy, and no we still haven't set a date for the wedding. But after 12 years in the Air Force, I'm separating from active duty. I figured that now would be a good time to start a blog, since I'll finally have stories to tell and experiences to share as I wipe my proverbial slate clean and plod my way down life's road less traveled.
Some of you are likely asking, "Why, after 12 years, are you getting out when you're so close to retiring?" Well, I can honestly say that this isn't what I wanted to do. But I'll have to tell the whole story, so grab a beverage. We may be here a while.
I joined the Air Force in 1998 and entered basic training with a guaranteed job of Electronic Warfare Systems maintenance. In a nutshell, that's avionics designed to detect and/or defeat radar systems as well as radar and heat-seeking missiles. It looked neat on paper, so I signed up. By having a guaranteed job, I avoided getting a "Needs of the Air Force" job, which is usually cop, cook, or clerk. I soon discovered that while the job looked neat on paper, it wasn't what I wanted to do for the next two decades. About three years ago I decided that since I already made up my mind to stick it out for the full 20 years, I might as well try to retrain into a job that I liked better than avionics maintenance. For my first attempt, I submitted an application to be a Military Training Instructor, or MTI. These are Air Force drill sergeants, the folks who get to wear the Smokey Bear hats and yell at new recruits in basic training. I figured that since I'm big and scary-looking, I'd be a shoe-in for that job. Well, I would have been if I wasn't SO big. Big as in fat. They denied my application because my PT score was only average, and they were looking for the best of the best. I was told to get into better shape and reapply in six months. Well, that hurt. So as I was licking my wounds and starting a workout regimen, I decided to look around for other jobs just to see what was available. One job I found was in Contracting. Whenever a government agency hires a non-government agency to do work (build things, mop floors, direct traffic, the list is endless), there is a contract provided. Contracting personnel are responsible for that process. It's an inside job, it involves banker's hours, and it provides very lucrative job opportunities in the civilian sector. Well, this was right up my alley; a true anti-avionics job! Best of all, the Air Force was critically undermanned in this particular job. They NEEDED me! So I completed an application to be a contracting official. It made it all the way up to the Air Force Personnel Center (AFPC), where it was ultimately denied because - are you ready for this - my current job wasn't OVERmanned, so I didn't have any priority for an available retraining class. See, there was a big push going on at the time to balance out the enlisted skill positions. People in overmanned jobs were being told that they had to retrain into undermanned jobs whether they wanted to or not. My job wasn't one of those jobs, so there was a line of folks ahead of me who got to take all the contracting slots, even though they may not have wanted to get out of the job they were in. Harumph!
Still with me? Hey, I warned you that this would take a while.
So once again I looked around to see what jobs were available for me to retrain into. I discovered the Air Force Office of Special Investigations, or AFOSI, which was desperately looking for volunteers to retrain as special agents. Basically, these folks are the FBI agents of the Air Force. They investigate crimes involving Air Force personnel, they bust airmen using drugs, they break up smuggling rings, and they're no-kidding federal agents. Cool! I went to an introduction briefing, got the application packet, and started filling it out. I made it through the first interview, completed some writing tests, and anxiously awaited my interview with the department superintendent. If I did well at this interview, my application would be sent to AFPC to have me released from my avionics job so I could pursue the AFOSI job. Well, I had one test to complete before I could go in for that interview. The next available test date was about three weeks out, so I scheduled it and waited. At work, I daydreamed about being an agent. It was great!
About a week before the test date, the Chief in my squadron comes to me and says "You need to check the assignment system, because it looks like you're gonna get orders." Bad news. Since I didn't complete the OSI application, I knew it wasn't that. I looked into it, and sure enough I was selected to move to Minot, ND to work avionics on B-52s. Snake eyes! Because I hadn't yet been released from my career field to pursue the OSI job, I had to either accept the assignment and move to North Dakota (in January, no less...thanks a lot, Air Force) or decline the assignment, become ineligible to re-enlist, and separate from active duty. I talked it over with Jess as well as some friends of mine who've been in for a while, and decided that going to Minot would be a career (and possibly relationship) killer. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew that whatever it was it couldn't be worse than fixing broken planes outside in North Dakota...in January.
So that answers the question of why I'm getting out after 12 years. "But Steve" you ask, "what are you going to do now?"
Well, right about the time I found out about my assignment to Minot, the Dept of Veterans Affairs announced a new GI Bill to replace the Montgomery GI Bill. Called the Post-9/11 GI Bill, it offered many more benefits including 100 % tuition assistance, a monthly housing allowance, and a yearly book stipend. So not only will they pay your tuition in full, but they'll give you rent money every month and pay $1,000/year for books. Clouds parted, skies cleared, and I can swear I heard angels sing. The best part is that they'd cover up to 100% of the most expensive state school in whichever state you choose. So being from Ohio and being a Buckeyes fan, I applied to Ohio State. It's free, might as well start with my dream college, right? Well, much to my amazement I was accepted to Ohio State! I'll be starting in June, and I'm moving to Columbus at the end of this month. And for those of you wondering about what I'm going to do with the 12 years of service I have under my belt, fear not. I also enlisted in the Air Force Reserve. I'll keep all my benefits, work one weekend a month and two weeks a year, and go to school full-time. I got a job at Wright-Patterson AFB in Dayton, OH (about an hour from Columbus), and I even managed to get a promotion out of the deal! Hopefully by fall or winter I'll be a Master Sergeant. It's still in avionics for now, but I think I can deal with it for two days a month. Once I finish school I'll look into retraining into something else. Right now my focus is on getting my degree. And because I already have 12 years down, I only have to do 8 in the Reserves and I can retire!
So that's my story up to this point. This blog is to allow me to document my experience as I transition from being a full-time Airman to being a college bum and a weekend warrior (does the title of the blog make sense now?) as well as the trials and tribulations that come from moving and changing jobs and learning my way around a new city, a new base, and two very different ways of life. I'm sure that there will be some good, some bad, some funny, some angry, and a little of everything in between. One thing is for sure, it'll be entertaining!
Some of you are likely asking, "Why, after 12 years, are you getting out when you're so close to retiring?" Well, I can honestly say that this isn't what I wanted to do. But I'll have to tell the whole story, so grab a beverage. We may be here a while.
I joined the Air Force in 1998 and entered basic training with a guaranteed job of Electronic Warfare Systems maintenance. In a nutshell, that's avionics designed to detect and/or defeat radar systems as well as radar and heat-seeking missiles. It looked neat on paper, so I signed up. By having a guaranteed job, I avoided getting a "Needs of the Air Force" job, which is usually cop, cook, or clerk. I soon discovered that while the job looked neat on paper, it wasn't what I wanted to do for the next two decades. About three years ago I decided that since I already made up my mind to stick it out for the full 20 years, I might as well try to retrain into a job that I liked better than avionics maintenance. For my first attempt, I submitted an application to be a Military Training Instructor, or MTI. These are Air Force drill sergeants, the folks who get to wear the Smokey Bear hats and yell at new recruits in basic training. I figured that since I'm big and scary-looking, I'd be a shoe-in for that job. Well, I would have been if I wasn't SO big. Big as in fat. They denied my application because my PT score was only average, and they were looking for the best of the best. I was told to get into better shape and reapply in six months. Well, that hurt. So as I was licking my wounds and starting a workout regimen, I decided to look around for other jobs just to see what was available. One job I found was in Contracting. Whenever a government agency hires a non-government agency to do work (build things, mop floors, direct traffic, the list is endless), there is a contract provided. Contracting personnel are responsible for that process. It's an inside job, it involves banker's hours, and it provides very lucrative job opportunities in the civilian sector. Well, this was right up my alley; a true anti-avionics job! Best of all, the Air Force was critically undermanned in this particular job. They NEEDED me! So I completed an application to be a contracting official. It made it all the way up to the Air Force Personnel Center (AFPC), where it was ultimately denied because - are you ready for this - my current job wasn't OVERmanned, so I didn't have any priority for an available retraining class. See, there was a big push going on at the time to balance out the enlisted skill positions. People in overmanned jobs were being told that they had to retrain into undermanned jobs whether they wanted to or not. My job wasn't one of those jobs, so there was a line of folks ahead of me who got to take all the contracting slots, even though they may not have wanted to get out of the job they were in. Harumph!
Still with me? Hey, I warned you that this would take a while.
So once again I looked around to see what jobs were available for me to retrain into. I discovered the Air Force Office of Special Investigations, or AFOSI, which was desperately looking for volunteers to retrain as special agents. Basically, these folks are the FBI agents of the Air Force. They investigate crimes involving Air Force personnel, they bust airmen using drugs, they break up smuggling rings, and they're no-kidding federal agents. Cool! I went to an introduction briefing, got the application packet, and started filling it out. I made it through the first interview, completed some writing tests, and anxiously awaited my interview with the department superintendent. If I did well at this interview, my application would be sent to AFPC to have me released from my avionics job so I could pursue the AFOSI job. Well, I had one test to complete before I could go in for that interview. The next available test date was about three weeks out, so I scheduled it and waited. At work, I daydreamed about being an agent. It was great!
About a week before the test date, the Chief in my squadron comes to me and says "You need to check the assignment system, because it looks like you're gonna get orders." Bad news. Since I didn't complete the OSI application, I knew it wasn't that. I looked into it, and sure enough I was selected to move to Minot, ND to work avionics on B-52s. Snake eyes! Because I hadn't yet been released from my career field to pursue the OSI job, I had to either accept the assignment and move to North Dakota (in January, no less...thanks a lot, Air Force) or decline the assignment, become ineligible to re-enlist, and separate from active duty. I talked it over with Jess as well as some friends of mine who've been in for a while, and decided that going to Minot would be a career (and possibly relationship) killer. I had no idea what I was going to do, but I knew that whatever it was it couldn't be worse than fixing broken planes outside in North Dakota...in January.
So that answers the question of why I'm getting out after 12 years. "But Steve" you ask, "what are you going to do now?"
Well, right about the time I found out about my assignment to Minot, the Dept of Veterans Affairs announced a new GI Bill to replace the Montgomery GI Bill. Called the Post-9/11 GI Bill, it offered many more benefits including 100 % tuition assistance, a monthly housing allowance, and a yearly book stipend. So not only will they pay your tuition in full, but they'll give you rent money every month and pay $1,000/year for books. Clouds parted, skies cleared, and I can swear I heard angels sing. The best part is that they'd cover up to 100% of the most expensive state school in whichever state you choose. So being from Ohio and being a Buckeyes fan, I applied to Ohio State. It's free, might as well start with my dream college, right? Well, much to my amazement I was accepted to Ohio State! I'll be starting in June, and I'm moving to Columbus at the end of this month. And for those of you wondering about what I'm going to do with the 12 years of service I have under my belt, fear not. I also enlisted in the Air Force Reserve. I'll keep all my benefits, work one weekend a month and two weeks a year, and go to school full-time. I got a job at Wright-Patterson AFB in Dayton, OH (about an hour from Columbus), and I even managed to get a promotion out of the deal! Hopefully by fall or winter I'll be a Master Sergeant. It's still in avionics for now, but I think I can deal with it for two days a month. Once I finish school I'll look into retraining into something else. Right now my focus is on getting my degree. And because I already have 12 years down, I only have to do 8 in the Reserves and I can retire!
So that's my story up to this point. This blog is to allow me to document my experience as I transition from being a full-time Airman to being a college bum and a weekend warrior (does the title of the blog make sense now?) as well as the trials and tribulations that come from moving and changing jobs and learning my way around a new city, a new base, and two very different ways of life. I'm sure that there will be some good, some bad, some funny, some angry, and a little of everything in between. One thing is for sure, it'll be entertaining!
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