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They say sleep deprivation and alcohol have similar effects on the body and soul. They've gone as far as to prove this in various studies, mostly on a few indigent college students who needed the cash for ramen and Sparks. So I'm writing this in that state of mind, because regardless of my quitting alcohol a few months ago, and regardless of the multiple red bulls which are eating a hole in my stomach lining, I am near the end... after being awake for 24 hours, I'm buzzing on the last few remnants of adrenaline sustained consciousness.
So what I intended to be an intelligent, lengthy, flowing rant about something perhaps interesting... this enterprise in writing is going to slowly dwindle into a trailing stream of consciousness... but that is such an overused phrase nowadays. Let's call it the watercourse of awareness (WOA)... something for which Microsoft thesaurus is proud I employed its services.
Let me tell you the story about Colonel Lee. Col Lee was a great man. Back in the 70's, he was a legend at Barksdale AFB. An intellectual and physical giant. The govt actually paid him to go and run the Boston marathon. It is a non-govt sponsored event, yet they dismissed him from duty and paid his way to run. He didn't necessarily win over there, but back home he held the 26.2 mile record time for his entire career. They called him the Colonel. He wasn't really a Col. He was a fresh one-striper in from boot camp. A little skinny Asian man. Whenever he tested for his new stripes, perfect score. Whenever he tested for his professional and technical proficiencies, perfect scores. He made his second and third stripes below the zone. Unheard of. Deserved his nickname with absolute absoluteness.
The neat part... he never once cashed in a paycheck, his entire career. You see, he worked in the kitchen. He was a great chef, so his own meals were naturally free. His room and board were free (barracks). He had a shower in the back of the dining facility. Uniforms were issued by the govt. Eventually, his supervisor got phone calls from the Lieutenants, asking why the stubs weren't being paid out. Then the Captains started asking... then the Colonels wanted to know what Colonel Lee was doing. It went all the way up to the 3 star general who was the base commander. Lee would not accept a paycheck. After he left the AF, he disappeared.
I heard this story from a gas station attendant at 430 in the morning yesterday. The man was Lee's supervisor back in the day. He still keeps a 1976 phonebook with the Col's number in it. I don't know why, nor did I particularly care to ask at that time of the day. But this guy had great respect for this man. So the attendant wished me luck on my marathon (which was the initial topic of converstaion that kicked off the Lee story), I took my bananas, and I went for a long run in the dark with Chris moments later.
I made up for my slow running 3 hours later by rocketing towards the earth at about 154 mph. I was trying to break 200, but I kept getting unstable and initiated a death spiral whenever I pointed my head down. So after a few tries I humbly gave up, decided I am not a naturally talented skydiver, and finished the rest of the jump at the usual 120 mph. I thought about love, about my dog, and about God. Then I pulled and flew back to the ground under canopy. Of course, all of this transpired in less than a minute, but it's amazing how much can go through your mind when you are really focused... in the moment. The best part though was looking at the expression in Mike's eyes when he landed next to me. His first skydive. I love being there for those moments
And with little time to spare I ran to the marina with Kurt and we jumped on a sailboat and raced around the bay until the sun set and we needed our flashlights to find our way home. And the wind you feel on your face when all you can hear is the water surging and all you can see is the stars... is a little different than the 154 mph wind I felt earlier in the day. And you think about a lot of stuff when you have much more than a minute to recollect.
My prayers are with Dave, who is going to Iraq in 4 hours. We all said goodbye to him out at the beach bar. A nice way to end a long, inspiring day. And as I trail off I can only hope that thoughts become words, and actions... and destiny, as the old saying goes. WOA. woah. groovy
So what I intended to be an intelligent, lengthy, flowing rant about something perhaps interesting... this enterprise in writing is going to slowly dwindle into a trailing stream of consciousness... but that is such an overused phrase nowadays. Let's call it the watercourse of awareness (WOA)... something for which Microsoft thesaurus is proud I employed its services.
Let me tell you the story about Colonel Lee. Col Lee was a great man. Back in the 70's, he was a legend at Barksdale AFB. An intellectual and physical giant. The govt actually paid him to go and run the Boston marathon. It is a non-govt sponsored event, yet they dismissed him from duty and paid his way to run. He didn't necessarily win over there, but back home he held the 26.2 mile record time for his entire career. They called him the Colonel. He wasn't really a Col. He was a fresh one-striper in from boot camp. A little skinny Asian man. Whenever he tested for his new stripes, perfect score. Whenever he tested for his professional and technical proficiencies, perfect scores. He made his second and third stripes below the zone. Unheard of. Deserved his nickname with absolute absoluteness.
The neat part... he never once cashed in a paycheck, his entire career. You see, he worked in the kitchen. He was a great chef, so his own meals were naturally free. His room and board were free (barracks). He had a shower in the back of the dining facility. Uniforms were issued by the govt. Eventually, his supervisor got phone calls from the Lieutenants, asking why the stubs weren't being paid out. Then the Captains started asking... then the Colonels wanted to know what Colonel Lee was doing. It went all the way up to the 3 star general who was the base commander. Lee would not accept a paycheck. After he left the AF, he disappeared.
I heard this story from a gas station attendant at 430 in the morning yesterday. The man was Lee's supervisor back in the day. He still keeps a 1976 phonebook with the Col's number in it. I don't know why, nor did I particularly care to ask at that time of the day. But this guy had great respect for this man. So the attendant wished me luck on my marathon (which was the initial topic of converstaion that kicked off the Lee story), I took my bananas, and I went for a long run in the dark with Chris moments later.
I made up for my slow running 3 hours later by rocketing towards the earth at about 154 mph. I was trying to break 200, but I kept getting unstable and initiated a death spiral whenever I pointed my head down. So after a few tries I humbly gave up, decided I am not a naturally talented skydiver, and finished the rest of the jump at the usual 120 mph. I thought about love, about my dog, and about God. Then I pulled and flew back to the ground under canopy. Of course, all of this transpired in less than a minute, but it's amazing how much can go through your mind when you are really focused... in the moment. The best part though was looking at the expression in Mike's eyes when he landed next to me. His first skydive. I love being there for those moments
And with little time to spare I ran to the marina with Kurt and we jumped on a sailboat and raced around the bay until the sun set and we needed our flashlights to find our way home. And the wind you feel on your face when all you can hear is the water surging and all you can see is the stars... is a little different than the 154 mph wind I felt earlier in the day. And you think about a lot of stuff when you have much more than a minute to recollect.
My prayers are with Dave, who is going to Iraq in 4 hours. We all said goodbye to him out at the beach bar. A nice way to end a long, inspiring day. And as I trail off I can only hope that thoughts become words, and actions... and destiny, as the old saying goes. WOA. woah. groovy
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