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.
Friday, April 30, 2010
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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