2021 Christmas Letter

     What a year 2021 has been for our portion of the Moore Dynasty. Many changes in work, additions to our family and of course many experiences by all! It was not a dull year by any stretch of the imagination. It was a year of extreme ups and downs, highs and lows, valleys and mountain highs. We made it together, the 5 of us now, and are looking forward to next year and what it will bring!

     Oren, our oldest, continues to grow like a weed weighing almost 45 pounds and fast enough to really give you a good bruise should he choose to headbutt you at full speed. This year we went through a short lived plane obsession phase that has been replaced with a more permanent obsession: snakes. The boy loves his toy snakes, stuffed animal snakes, watching snake videos, trying to be a snake, talking about snakes and more importantly catching snakes. While he hasn't caught one yet, he has found them under rocks often enough that having a snake in a bucket after dad catches it is becoming more frequent. Just this morning we caught a beautiful Texas Brown Snake and as usual he was pretty upset when we had to let him go. Oren is so extremely smart and continues to blow my mind with his vocabulary on a daily basis.

    Ryker, our middle child, is about as wild as a child can get I imagine. This year he has really found his voice and started talking in complete and coherent sentences versus the mumbling we started the year off with. Quickly this has progressed to the full on expression of his disdain or disagreement with the instructions his mother and I give him. His favorite and most frequently uttered word is, "no". He is full of sass and is not quiet about it! He is extremely rambunctious and fears nothing. The boy would jump from the tallest of towers given the chance and says "hi" to every other person in the grocery store. He smiles through the crack in his bedroom door when he gets out of bed too early and likes to snuggle a few minutes later because he is tired once more. He mimics his older brothers fascination with snakes and has many snake toys and makes as many snake sounds as Oren. Ryker too has shot up in height this year and is picky as ever with his food making him a skinny fellow like me when I was a boy. He is, or so I am told by my mother, of the same manner as I was when I was a child. Lord, I know what comes around goes around but please be with us should he be half as much trouble as I was. A foreshadow of things to come, this year Ryker single handedly destroyed his crib by tripping and smashing his head into the crib, breaking a wooden support while suffering nothing more than a nasty bruise. That was how he ended up with a twin size bed!

    Nico is second brightest light of the world next to the Sun God has given us. He hardly ever fails to smile his no tooth, gummy baby smile whenever you look at him. He laughs at every tickle and every toy. He rolls over and looks at you with such a cute baby boy face you can't help but pinch his chubby cheeks and give him a kiss! At 6 months old now he sleeps most of the night, sucks down bottles and eats 2-3 baby food jars a day. His grandparents from NC and TX spoil him with new clothes and toys all the time! He loves hugs from his bigger brothers and can watch them play all day! Only getting upset that he, a baby, is unable to walk or crawl fast enough to keep up with them. We are soaking up every second of him being our last baby boy under our full time care, and eagerly await every last milestone for him to reach as a baby!

    BethAnne had one heck of a year being the literal best mom and wife in the world! Pregnant for half of the year, she gave birth to our 3rd son, Nico Moore, in mid June. She toughed out this last pregnancy while managing to wrangle our 3 year old and 2 year old, Oren and Ryker. She also had to weather me being gone for nearly 2-months to ALC as COVID lockdown rules stupidly kept me locked down on Fort Sam Houston. On top of 2 toddlers and a newborn she was also my rock at home as I worked pretty late most days from June to mid December due to my new position. This was a huge challenge for her and she did outstanding and she is looking forward to have 3 young boys at home and myself being home more often going back to a shorter work schedule! BethAnne has also put in her retirement packet with the National Guard, and we are praying that it goes through smoothly. The Texas National Guard attempted to send her to the Texas/Mexico border for 9 months to a year and that was about the last straw for her. She has recently been able to pick up a new hobby over the holiday season, jewelry making, and I pray the boys will give her enough time in the evenings to enjoy it! I love you babe, thank you from the bottom of my heart for every thing you do; you are the glue that keeps this family of 5 together and happy!

   I started off this year as a regular DA select recruiter doing good and putting in my one person per phase line. I ended it as a station commander ready to hand the station off the incoming station commander. As previously stated, I went to ALC this year and I'm glad that it's only a one time school and that I will have a few years until I attend SLC. I have a huge respect for the NCO Corps but the NCOES system should be re-evaluated; that is all I will say about that. I was able to catch up with a buddy of mine there so not a complete loss. I got a new motorcycle this year, a KTM 1290 Super Adventure R, which I have ridden in all sorts of weather. My loving wife got me a Big Green Egg grill/smoker which I absolutely love and have been firing up several times a week since getting it! I have been spoiled this year by her in all aspects and cannot fully express my gratitude for her. I have decided that I shall not be converting to a full time recruiter (79R) and wish to head back to the operational Army when my 3-years in USAWRECK is done. Early mornings and late nights every single work day kind of sucks when you have such a wonderful family at home! 

    The Good Lord has blessed us every single day this year. We have laughed and cried. We have been with family and friends. We have grown together and closer. It's been a heck of a year, I hope that next year will only get better. Farewell 2021, welcome 2022, lets just keep going up from 2020!! God be with you and yours this year. - The Moore's

End of The Year Update

     As 2021 comes to a close, I am currently enjoying my second week of vacation, with only but a few precious days left before returning to the chaos of recruiting. Over the last 6 months I have learned what unpredictability and stress is in the office setting. I'll get to that though. These precious days of vacation have been filled with time spent with my family; taking my boys out to the park, playing disc golf with my dad and enjoying some quiet time with my wife. I have had a few beers, I have been on a few good long bike rides and had lots of laughs and smiles in between; exactly as it, life that is, should be. I feel as if I have earned this leave more than any other time in my military career, here's why:

    In June 2021, I was officially tagged by my commander to take over College Station Recruiting Center as the Station Commander. The series of events that led to this moment started rolling a few months prior when the then station commander got a DUI. The next person to the helm was a fellow SSG who is less than 2 years from retirement from the military and is ancient as far as military ages go. (Over 45 and you are considered somewhat of a rarity and a dinosaur.) Despite this replacement being a trained 79R (permanent recruiter) he was failing at this duty due to his lack of skill, ability and looming personal issues. I felt sorry for him, not only for the beatings he took from our command at his incompetence but mostly for the personal issues he was dealing with on top of it. Either way, in late May 2021 I told a mentor 79R SFC that I would be willing to take the station if the time came, seeing as it was already tanking hard. After a few more weeks of the replacement leader, the command team pitched me as the new leader to the battalion command team and they approved. My commander came to visit and after a conversation in the parking lot it was mostly official at that point. 

    My days at the office from then on started at 0800-0815 with me getting there, followed by my 0830 meeting that lasted from 15 minutes to over an hour; this meeting was the morning sync with my commander letting him know the plan and status of the station, prospecting and projections for enlistment. The rest of the day is usually, honestly, a complete clusterf*ck. Kids who are at MEPS trying to enlist will fail one thing or the other, I'll get 20 phone calls about it, hopefully find a way to circumvent the issue and get the kid going to sign a contract. If it's a day like this, I feel either like punching someone in the face, usually multiple people, or going through existential crisis mode on the way home. 

    Other days are more hum drum and I have to make it sound like we did something great for prospecting or projections that day. These very rare days are usually spent quietly catching up on the vast amount of data to be inputted into an endless stream of needless tracking forms on Excel or in Word. If there is one thing that drives me nuts about recruiting is the sheer amount of numbers that commands attempt to use to justify or crucify recruiting efforts. It's a people game, and people are not numbers. Either way, I do what I am told and I fill out the numbers over and over again, day after day and justify my own actions with them. 

    The one thing I hated about this time as station commander, but knew it was going to make me a better worker/soldier is the sheer amount of phone conversations I had to have. I don't like to talk to superiors and I don't like to have to give hard orders to subordinates. ( I truly get no joy from either.) I used to sugar coat everything; whether it was to command teams or to subordinates I did it to make myself seem like the innocent messenger. I have learned this method is ineffective and makes for a leader who is constantly apologizing to subordinates, which gives them a sort of power, and makes you look weak to superiors. I cut that bull crap out and just laid it out very bluntly to everyone. This was in large part to the new 1st Sergeant who took a temp spot as our old 1st Sergeant headed out. This new 1SG would call me, and I kid you not, between 5 - 40 times a day. Think about that. In an 8 hour day that is 1 - 5 times an hour. The first week I was annoyed. The second week I embraced it as good, and for this simple reason: each phone call would be under 1 minute. I kid you not, this man would as a question, a follow on question, give guidance and hang up. No bull crap, no yelling, just took in my information, formulated a possible next action and would expect a follow up on success or failure. Rinse and repeat and that is how he would operate. I quickly adopted it and found great success. 

    Regardless of how the day went, it usually ended after 6pm. Many days after 6:30pm. Some days after 7pm. occasionally later than that and a few times till 8-9pm. Due either to meetings, school events, or applicants taking to damn long in my office, these long days were horrible for my life. I lost motivation to work out in the morning seeing as work now started at 0800 and I wouldn't feel like working out after being beaten up all day until 630pm. I would just get home and try to soak up my kids before they went to bed and shoveling food down my throat so I wasn't so freaking hungry. This job drove me to starting to drink coffee again for the sheer amount of energy I needed to keep sharp with my memory and wakefulness. In part this would help curb my appetite and I ate less. Got down to 141 pounds which was fixed after thanksgiving.  

    The good news is that I am now returning to being a regular recruiter. 0900 work call means mornings are all mine again. As long as I put one person in a month no one will yell at me; and I did that every single month I was a recruiter and a few months as a station commander. I won't stay late regularly unless the new station commander is a dick. I'll bust my ass more than ever 9-5 and go home. I am very excited and thankful this chapter is coming to a close. I miss seeing my family and going home before the sun goes down!!

    My newest boy Nico is growing so much! At 6 months old and almost 20 pounds he is a fast growing boy and is finding his voice. He yells now just for fun, probably due to the fact that his brothers yell almost constantly. He sleeps at night, thank the Lord, and that's just amazing. Ryker, my second child, did not sleep at night very well until about 7 months old and I'm not sure how I still maintain my hair line and color after that. Oren is obsessed with snakes now. I mean that literally. Almost all conversations with him lead to or start with something about the reptiles who lack legs. Ryker is following suit but I think just for the sake of sibling emulation. The boys give my wife a run for her money every day and I can't blame her, they exhaust even the strongest of spirits and could empty the stockpiles of patience from a saint. Bless her and bless them. 

    My wife has been an amazing wife and mother despite the crappy work hours on my end and the stress that it bleeds into our family life. Some days are hard and some are happy but at the end of the day she stays the course and does her damndest to raise upright men and keep me in line as well! For that I am eternally grateful to her and God. She is currently getting crafty with some jewelry making and has bought a few puzzles. 

    I have followed suit, as I usually do when I take leave for more than 3 days, in picking up a new hobby: Book making/binding. I literally made a book almost from scratch. I folded and stitched together paper. I cut paper board and bound the whole thing in maroon leather and included a maroon ribbon page marker. See photo below. I am pretty satisfied with this work as it only took 2-3 days and a few dollars. I am eager to work on a secret project regarding this hobby now and to rebind some old books of mine with a more fitting cover. 

    It is far too late, I must sign off. I apologize for the delay in the update. I pray life will not change after my vacation as to continue to keep me away from my spare time. - Mitch

Thoughts on a Motorcycle Ride

     Riding a motorcycle is somewhere between an art and a science. Scientific in the physics that keep a bike upright at speed and actively resist turning and leaning. The grip of the tires on a hot afternoon or the lack thereof of on cold and wet mornings. Speed, wind resistance, fuel economy, and vehicle maintenance all must be calculated and evaluated before, during and after the ride to ensure success. Riding is artistic in the way that one seems to glide across blazing hot roads, seamlessly riding in parallel with the winding white and yellow guidelines. The paint stroke of the tires sweeping across the blacktop at speed, confident and bold; just like an artist of the paint, an artist of the road needs confidence as the consumers of the art can always sense the fear or incompetence within.

    I can't help but think of my own mortality whenever I hop on my small Honda Grom. I think of it every single time. I often pray before, during and after my rides, no matter the distance for safe travels. I always wear a full face helmet, gloves, pants, boots and often a riding jacket rated for falls and slides. I like to think of myself as a cautious rider, but a practical rider. If I can use a bike lane to turn right instead of waiting behind 4 cars at a red light then I will, but I won't lane split or speed. I can't really speed as the Grom only tops out at 65 on a downhill, but 55 is pretty fast in a 30 zone. Lines on the road are always there to keep me safe right? The lines provide almost a structure to the road; if you've ever driven on a fresh road with no markings of any sort you can feel lost or uncomfortable as you realize (or fail to put into words) that these markings are a language and discipline to those who drive. Failure to understand, communicate or to remain disciplined can, and often, leads to serious injury or death. I rarely disobey the lines and only out of desperation or necessity. While that may seem somewhat contradictory I'll give you an example: I pulled over on a shoulder today and waited for the road to clear to make an illegal U-turn. I made the U-turn right then and there in order to save precious miles as my tank was very very low on fuel and I knew that I had past the nearest gas station for miles around. 

    Anyhow, my thoughts during the ride are far a few between. I think this is why people enjoy riding so much. Riding a motorcyle isn't like driving a car where you often find yourself drifting between hypnosis of the road and actually paying attention to every detail in the road. On the highway or back country roads there are potholes, lumber, trash, roadkill, and other hazards that could easily knock a rider down or at the very least cause them to swerve into the other lane or off the road. Riders must always be assessing the road in front. The wind is a constant reminder of the weather outside. If it's humid then you can feel soaked from the sheer amount of water build up on your clothes and when it's cold it stabs like knives at every weak spot: zipper seams, unprotected ankles/wrists/neckline, and pants that are too thin. Having ridden in below freezing conditions, I'm here to say that the cold sucks. These elements (road conditions and weather) are constantly assessed and in the forefront of your mind when you ride. There is never a moment when they disappear. The most dangerous element of all, (besides an individuals tolerance for risk) is the other highly intelligent animals on the road: other human beings. 

    Have I dodged animals on the road: yes. Have I swerved for random objects: Almost weekly. Have I risked hypothermia and overheating: yes. Have I been almost hit by other people: More times than I can even remember. It happens so often you almost become desensitized to such a traumatic event. Given a motorcycles small profile, speed and often the carelessness of the rider it's no wonder bikers are hit or get cars pulling out in front of them so much. I've had my fair share in the 4 years I've been riding. Most of the time the people don't even notice what they did. If they do notice they will brush it off. I confronted a driver once who turned left in front of me in a parking lot. (Turing left in front of an oncoming motorcycle is the number one cause of fatality) I followed her to her spot and yelled at her to get out. She was unimpressed as I was yelling at her until I realized that she didn't know what rank I was. After pulling down my riding jacket and showing her my stripes she listened a little better. I reminded her, in perhaps a not so eloquent way, that I have a wife and kids at home and that she would do better to get off her phone so I could see them at the end of the day. I have had several encounters like that where I will confront people when they are acting so stupidly. My wife says I shouldn't confront people because I may end up shot or stabbed but to me what they did is as good as a suckerpunch and I won't lay down for it. My kids and wife are always the first things I think of whenever I have an incident like that. Any time my own mortality is in question I have always thought of my wife and kids first and pray that I could just get one more day...

    These thoughts, to a normal person, may seem morbid or uncomfortable but to me it's almost a necessary reset. There's nothing like a brush with death to really put in perspective what's important in this life. Life's anxieties and worries are small compared to what really matters. I have been so anxious before that I couldn't even ride my motorcycle home before. Not because of my fear of the ride but because my physical response to an anxiety attack. Since that day I have learned to live with and mitigate anxiety. There has never been a simple fix, not one simple exercise to blot it out but a combination of thought patterns, thought exercises and physical conditioning. This morning on my bike ride I was out past Hearne, TX when I began to feel a little anxious. I thought: what if I got into an accident here in the middle of nowhere, what would my wife and kids think? Would I make it to a hospital? Where is the nearest hospital anyways, I saw an urgent care about 15 miles back but it's just an urgent care.... These thoughts streamed through my fore vision for but a mere moment in time and then I had to come back to the road; the road had a left hand turn followed by a hill who's crest was higher than my current elevation that required my full attention. This fixation only lasted but 30 seconds and it was back to open roads but it gave me a mental stop and then I changed my thoughts. I said to myself: "It wouldn't matter if you died here or in your house; dying results in the same thing no matter the location. Your wife and kids love you and you them and that is a well established fact. You dying is statistically unlikely as you aren't drinking, speeding or riding  recklessly (which accounts for over half of all motorcycle incidents)". I said this to myself and once again accepted my own mortality and was okay with it. 

    I'm not fine with dying willy nilly mind you, just accepting the fact that I will one day die and certainly not at my own doing! I have never been tempted by suicide or even the thought thereof. I have always maintained the idea that if I ever thought that my life was so miserable I couldn't bear it that my first and only move would be to change my life somehow. I maintain my happiness and joy through exercises in gratefulness and always imagining and knowing it could be much worse. I don't ride my motorcycle mocking the cars and their safety. I ride because I enjoy it and love the gas mileage. I like the fact that every time I get on it I feel grounded to the current reality I am experiencing, regardless of whether or not scientist think it's a simulation. If it is a simulation then it's a damn good one and I'll take more of it. Riding is not something I do on the weekends or do for fun. It is practical, it is zen. It is dangerous for those who lack discipline.

   Final thoughts: riding over 200 miles today was exactly what I needed. I am more grounded in this moment, again. I have had inspiration for writing. More importantly I am refocused on what my priorities are in life and the rest of life's worries are where they belong: miles behind me, blowing along the empty and dark back roads of Texas.  

Long days and great weekends.

     The last few weeks have been pretty hectic.  At least as far was my work goes. Mondays and Tuesdays have been very long as our office has been working till around 1900. The rest of the week days are usually till 1730 to 1800. We are expected to make mission while still working at 50% man power so that's why we are working such long hours. I hate it and so does my family; it feels pretty terrible to only have 30 minutes with my boys before they are going to bed. I'm also so burnt out mentally at the end of these long days I just want to sleep or lay down. Talking all day on the phone actually is pretty mentally exhausting and afterwards I don't feel much like talking anymore to my wife's dismay. I realize this but I still can't help the feeling sometimes. 

    This weekend was pretty great though and was a true refresher for my mind and spirit. on Saturday we woke up at 0600, dressed ourselves and the boys and got on the road to Galveston by 0715. By 0945 we were on the beach and having fun! Oren immediately splashed around in the shallow waters and helped my dig razor clams from the beach. Ryker, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with the water and was content picking shells off the ground, being pulled in the wagon and eating snacks under our small canopy. We stayed on the beach a few hours having fun and watching our boys laugh and talk. After eating some sandwiches for lunch we packed up the beach stuff, took a baby wipe bath, changed clothes and headed to Moody Gardens. We only bought a pass for the aquarium portion but that's all we needed. The boys were in awe from the moment we stepped in the door; they've never really been in such a building before much less around such giant tanks of water creatures. Every window we passed they oohed and ahhed and each sea creature. The jellyfish dark room was a favorite along with the penguins and seals. The whole walk about only lasted about 45 minutes but the boys loved every second and so did my wife and I. BethAnne and I are a little spoiled when it comes to aquariums because for a few summers we would go to the Atlanta Aquarium a few times during the season. The Atlanta Aquarium is the largest one in the U.S. and either the 2nd or 1st largest in the world. (Conflicting information on the internet between Atlanta and the S.E.A. aquariums being larger)

    I've doubled down on my commitment to starting a podcast by networking with a few of my Army buddies to conduct interviews on along with reaching out to a prominent member of the College Station community to be a guest on the show and investing in quite a pricey microphone for improved audio over the Yeti Blue mic that I currently have. It's good but I really need a dynamic mic that won't pick up the road noise that's close to my house. The Yeti mic is unbelievably sensitive and will pick up motorcycles from, and I kid you not, over a mile away. I haven't come up with a concrete name yet, but I want it to be relevant to my podcast goals, short, and memorable. Kind of a hard thing to do I guess. My name doesn't carry much weight so I'll leave it out for the moment.  

    BethAnne is getting into succulent plants currently which is a very nice and pleasing hobby. The plants look nice and are small enough to move in and out of the house daily. Watering is pretty minimal and it's very obvious when something is wrong with the plants so a remedy can be found quickly. She is fortunate enough that there is a local resident who sells and grows these succulents for a fair price along with free personal advice from time to time for beginners! 

The Ass-Chewing Cascade and Podcasts.

      The first month or so of being back in the office has been a crazy transition. I was expecting to come back to the same situation but almost everything was different. My team's production was down almost 60% and my Station Commander got a DUI so there was an internal promotion for his spot. On top of that, the entire battalion/brigade is not doing so well for recruiting numbers, even compared to other battalions or brigades in USAREC. 

    This has caused what I call "The natural cascade of ass-chewing". Here's how it goes: My brigade commander reports to the USAREC commanding officer, a two-star general, who was undoubtedly not pleased with the sudden drop in numbers. On top of that, there is usually a policy that the brigade with the lowest production gets a mandatory ass chewing once a month/quarter for being at the bottom. If you're above the bottom 20% or so then you're good but you don't want to be lower than that. My brigade commander probably got an ass-chewing for being at the bottom and having an overall lower number than usual for our brigade. This then trickles down to my battalion commander out of Houston. Houston battalion normally is a great big producer of bodies for the Army because it's densely populated area and it's in the south where people like the military and don't mind working hard for a living. Due to the recent winter storm and a few other factors, our battalion is not doing so hot. There is a widespread lack of manpower within the battalion to add to the grim situation. More people on the phones means more chances of contacting someone who may be interested in the Army!

     Any how, My battalion commander didn't like his bottom of the barrel ass chewing as we were two spots away from rock bottom. This in turn passed down to my company commander: a vegan who was OCS and not prior service. If you've been in the military you'll understand why that is funny and not desirable. He mandates tons of phone calls that don't make sense and hours that are unreasonable. I also was chastised for asking for more manpower when the battalion commander and the company commander came for a visit. I have many qualms with my commander about various things but when he is in our office we almost always have a candid discussion about one thing or the other we disagree on. I find him both slightly bothersome and entertaining to interact with. 

     I have been seriously contemplating starting a podcast. I have a genuine interest in getting to know people and how they look at life and how they have lived. I have loved podcasts almost since the inception of a podcast on the apple music store. I remember fondly downloading them onto my Ipod when I was in high school wondering why the store didn't charge people for hours of great content. I have a laptop and a great microphone for doing it. I have all the software for editing and reaching out to people via Zoom or Teams to get a conversation going. I think that maybe I'm a little scared or intimidated. I think maybe I still worry about my image on social media. I find myself making excuses such as "they won't want to be interviewed by a nobody" or that I am not special enough to have a podcast. I mean, even if nobody listens to it, I think I would be satisfied having done it. I will send an invite to someone this week, and I have a few in mind, to interview and do my first ever podcast. Hopefully during work hours! I'll say it's for recruiting but really it'll be for me. 

Discipline of the Super Rich: Why?

     For the last week or so I have gotten up at 0530 with the exception of the few nights where I was unable to sleep until past midnight or daylight savings. (For these instances I give myself until 0630.) It has honestly been a struggle; there was one morning where I wrestled in my mind for about 10 minutes whether or not to get up or go back to sleep. I got up and felt better for it but I could have easily just gone back to sleep for an hour. I wouldn't have been able to work out then shower and I probably would have been rushed to breakfast. This morning time is extremely productive and I feel good knowing that I'm sticking to a schedule but doing this takes discipline. Even without waking up early, I still have to be at work at a certain time because I'm not in a position to retire yet. Even then the thought crossed my mind: If I could retire this young, would I wake up whenever? Would I bother to get another job? After all, if my finances were in order to do so, why work?

     This question led me to think of the billionaires of the world and I narrowed it down to 2 examples. Both of whom are admirable in their own respective fields: Bill Gates and Elon Musk. Bill Gates of course struck it lucky when he went into the software/GUI market in the early days and Elon Musk with his history with PayPal and the future with Telsa, SpaceX and the Boring Company. These two are prime candidates of what discipline looks like and I'll tell you why. At any moment in time, for the last several decades, either of these men could have hung in the towel with their first couple million/billion dollars and said "I've worked hard these last years and I'm ready to retire and just relax. Do what I want to do etc.". The thing is they didn't and they continue work. Bill Gates isn't the head of Microsoft any more but he continues to advise and runs his own philanthropic endeavors to this day, which must be fairly difficult given his massive amount of wealth to distribute. Don't forget that the man is 65 years old and has more than enough reason to sit on his wealth and eat 3-star michelin meals every day. Truly his contributions to the world are almost unrivaled. Elon Musk runs 3 different companies. In an interview with Joe Rogan, Elon says that he works about 16 hours a day and sleeps 6 hours a day. Sometimes he works the same schedule on the weekends. Elon has a family and young kids, he could just quit and spent his life with his family in a nice house on unfathomable acreage in peace. Why does he continue to work so hard?

     Both of these men had something in common. They each had a "Why" behind what they did. In a TedX talk I listened to (I can't remember the name of the speaker.) the speaker went on to say that really successful organizations had a what they did, how they were going to do it and more importantly a why they were going to do it. Elon Musk wants to colonize mars and make the world a more eco-friendly place by selling electric cars at affordable prices. Bill Gates wanted to revolutionize the world with his software. (Side note, imagine for a minute what the world would be like without Bill Gates. Imagine if this pioneer gave up before hitting it big.) I came to recruiting duty with a why and I didn't know it. My why was because I wanted to change young kids lives and give them opportunities they may not have had. The Army is a great organization and has a lot to offer beyond what the recruiters sell. If I could go back the only thing I would do differently is change my job coming into the Army but I wouldn't join any other branch of service nor skip out on military completely.

     I know my why for recruiting and so far remembering that when it gets tough has gotten me through. I don't have a why for being a medic in the Army though. I've spent 7 years in the Army as a medic so far and I realized within the last two years something was wrong. I don't have a why and that is why I seek alternatives to the current job I have. I really would like to reclass to chaplain assistant and am trying rather hard to figure out how. There are a few other paths I could take but I know that I can't stay on the medic path. There is no why behind it so there will be no success and more importantly no satisfaction. I wouldn't mind staying a recruiter because I have a why but I'd prefer to change lives in a more spiritual capacity for a living if at all possible. 

     Anyhow, I wish I had the discipline of these two men. they truly exercise in the most obstinate way possible and I don't think anyone gives them credit for it. I can say that it would be a struggle every day to not throw in the towel and coast given that option. I will continue to ponder these men and others in order to understand what else drives them. The why behind what they do is merely a statement, but what ideas are leading them on day by day as they trudge through unknown territory in full view of the rest of the world. Do they even care we are watching? That's enough questions for now. I have much more to think about silently. 

Early Morning Wake Up on a Saturday

      Why would anyone willingly wake up at 0530 on a Saturday? There are thoughts that waking up earlier than necessary is a good way to instill or build discipline in yourself. Here's the reasoning: when the alarm goes off at 0530 you have the option to stay in your bed until whenever is more comfortable to get up or you could choose to get out of the bed. There are only two options essentially: initial success or total failure. ( Initial Success or Total Failure happens to be the Explosive Ordinance Disposal motto, and for quite obvious reasons.) Granted, this technique of building self discipline is highly supported by military veterans may be easier after being conditioned to this sort of thing for years to decades. I certainly have little issue waking up well before the sun. In fact, while I was stationed at Fort Bragg for nearly 3 years it was necessary for me to leave my house by 0545 at the latest. Meaning that I had to get dressed, prepare for the day and leave my house before then, not just wake up at 0545. 

     I decided that my life has been a little too cushy as of late and I've done too much complaining the last few weeks. I forgot what it was like to be uncomfortable. Basic training and AIT were uncomfortable and my time spent at ALC here in Fort Sam has reminded me of that season of life for me. Even on weekends in AIT, we still had 0630 morning formation and a 2000 hours formation in the evening. We could go back to sleep after the 0630 accountability formation but when you wake up, get dressed, shave and walk down 3-4 flights of stairs and stand around for 10 minutes in the elements your pretty damn awake at that point. Imagine 6 months of never sleeping in; every day you are awake and dressed before the sun comes up. It is this brush with that past that I decided to wake up at 0530 on a Saturday. 

     I woke up before my alarm went off at 0530. I do every morning. I am usually awake by 0400-0500 and can sometimes to manage to fall asleep but most of the time I lay there, half asleep and tormented by the fact that the other half is coherent. But laying there none the less out of principle that my alarm has not gone off. I normally never sleep more than 7 hours total much less consecutively and if I do I feel groggy and mushy. I thought about snoozing my 0530 alarm for just 5 more minutes but then my iPhone alarm went off and I forgot that I had, in an attempt to force my hand, set it on my desk across the room before bed so I actually had to get up. I turned my alarms off and set on the bed for a few minutes to drink some water and think about what I was going to do now that I was awake. I decided that I was going to do a nice morning water row workout while I listened to the Joe Rogan podcast. You may or may not have your opinion on someone as polarizing as Joe Rogan but I like his format and you cannot deny that the man has a way to question and answer with people that gets them to open up and you can feel like you get to know the guest. I don't think that Joe Rogan is smart or extremely intelligent but he is a damn good interviewer and has a grounded sense of humor. I digress... I did 500m of row easy followed by 500m of row at a sprint pace for 2,000m and then just finished at a moderate pace until I hit the 15 minute mark. A benchmark for time has come to be one of my favorite workouts to see how far I can go in a set time versus what time it takes to finish a set distance. 

     I then got some pants on and a jacket, armed my feet with sneakers and earbuds so I could listen to my podcast while I went for a walk. The walk was probably around 2 miles. There is a loop I like to walk from my hotel and back that's relaxing enough. The sun still isn't up and I'm the first one to be walking around a popular quarter mile track but by the time I get halfway around the track I can see AIT students in army APFU walking to get a weekend workout in on the track and adjacent pull-up bars. I still have some satisfaction knowing that I had finished my workout already and was walking for leisure and sanity by this point. I remember when I was in elementary school and I had a room to myself I would purposely set my alarm clock for before the sun would come up so I could play video games by myself or play in general by myself. Even as a kid I had some sort of pride knowing that I had awoken before the sun and well before everyone else in the house. 

     As I walked back, which was almost a straight line back the way I came, the wind cut through my thin jacket and I wondered if should have walked out so far. I made it back to my car in the parking lot and hopped in to escape the battering breeze. I called my wife and kids for a bit to see how their morning was going and I went to the chow hall to eat. Walking up to the chow hall I saw a line of at least 60 AIT students already waiting. I got there just in time because a minute or two after standing in that line an entire company of students marched up to stand behind me. I was the only individual wearing civilian clothes that didn't have a reflective belt on. The belt signifies your training status and is required at all times to be worn around the shoulders or the waist. I could feel the drill sergeants eyeballing me, deciding on whether or not to ask who I was and if I had lost my belt. The funny truth is that I am probably the same rank as most of them so it would be an awkward conversation. 

     I got my to-go tray after waiting for 15 minutes and headed to try and find the peacocks of Fort Sam Houston. Located in what is called the "Quadrangle" the peacocks live a protected life behind 30 foot stone and mortar walls. The quadrangle is square and made up of about 30 foot high by 20 foot wide walls that are made up of off white limestone pieces that are mortared together in what looks like the contemporary style of the Alamo. Sadly each entrance was locked and gated. I could see the peacocks from afar. They stood in the middle of the quad, on a circular patch of grass that encompasses the centered clocktower. I even could hear them make their distinct calls as I walked around the building to try and get a good vantage point to show my boys on facetime. The walls/building of the quadrangle serve as the command building for US Army North which is apparently ran by a CSM and a 3-Star general. After learning this I decided to not tramp around the building much longer. I walked around a Patton tank and a Huey helicopter that were on display so the boys had something to look at on the other side. My oldest boy, Oren, has taken a liking to a toy Apache helicopter and it was exciting for him to see one so close to his dad on the phone. 

     I slowly drove back to my hotel parking lot and parked in my usual spot, which is farther away from the building than any other car. An older man parked even farther away though while I was eating my breakfast in my car. I will have to remedy this situation soon; I will not be out parked. By the time I casually climb 5 stories worth of stairs to my room it's not even 0930. I feel energized, productive and a little excited knowing that the rest of the day is mine for the taking. I feel, of course, guilty knowing my wife is stuck at home by herself with the boys. There is nothing I can do though, but I still feel bad knowing that my day won't include them physically with me. Another struggle of the military life. For the moment, I just have to decide what to do next. 

Sentience: The Weight of Intelligence.

      The more "Intelligent" a sentient being is the more likely they are to suffer in quality of life as a result of their own intelligence, relative to the beings around them. This is a point that I will argue and explore in this post. I have thought about this for many years now, connecting patterns of behaviors of those who were deemed to be intelligent and from first hand experience of those around me. I do not make this argument to doom the intelligent to any sort of fate but simply to perhaps explore the loneliness or detachment that population experiences in daily life. I will forewarn you that I consider my self to either be intelligent or very misguided. 

    Sentience is the ability to feel sensation and produce thought, however basic, from said sensation. Whether the sensation in physical like pain, cold, heat, etc. or an emotional sensation and be aware of it. By this modern definition there are animals who have been deemed sentient beings such as dogs as they have the ability to perceive physical and emotional sensation and give thought to the reaction rather than by instinctual reaction such as our fight/flight response. The philosophers of the 16th century would argue that sentience is rather the ability to reason. Sentience and sapience are often used interchangeably but sapience goes further than sentience in the regards that it includes the ability of self transcend based upon ones wisdom/experience. While a dog could, by definition, be considered a sentient being, some would argue that a dog is not sapient or wise, as dogs don't have the ability to empathize and explore anything beyond what they are. 

    Intelligence, by definition, is the ability to acquire and apply knowledge and skills. This definition separates the gathering of knowledge and it's use. After all, there are many students who finish a Bachelors degree but are not people you would consider intelligent. Testing intelligence is based upon the comparison of others and there is not one set scale or meter by which to measure intelligence. Even the smartest of primates doesn't compare to human beings and even the human beings of past millennia wouldn't compare to the minds of today. Intelligence is a moving target as we as a race combine to the common pool of knowledge and enlarge it's scope and mass every day.  I think that filtering knowledge  should also play a part in intelligence. With the sheer amount of data that one can find on the internet or even in a brick and mortar library, an individual seeking to gain knowledge and apply it for a specific purpose can easily spend more than a day were they blindly attempting to gain a specific piece of knowledge. After all, given enough time and motivation, an unintelligent individual could scour a library book by book, A to Z, to find a book that would say how many individual squares there are on a chessboard. An intelligent person would start by finding the pattern to the libraries organization and filter out each section and filtering out thousands of irrelevant books in a comparatively short amount of time. 

    Having defined and explored what it means to be an intelligent, sapient and sentient being one can begin to explore how those at the right end of the bell curve are affected by their own intelligence. For starters, while it may seem almost non-applicable in our new world of computers, but those who are intelligent are more prone to have sloppy or unaesthetic handwriting. This is because the thoughts and ideas forming in the mind are flowing at a faster rate than their hands can keep up with. With the advent of typing on a keyboard similar correlations may be found even with typing speeds of over 100 words per minute. While this is but a minor crutch, it does get rather annoying to have a natural flow of thought interrupted by the mechanical chokepoint of fingers. 

    On a much more serious note, there are higher rates of depression, anxiety and bi-polar disorder amongst the more intelligent. This is often related to the tendency to ruminate or analyze extensively. Whether it be what someone said you, how they acted differently or other things of similar nature, intelligent people tend to over think and become what is called "psychologically overexcited". This however could be explained away because intelligent individuals are more likely to recognize a problem with their mental well being and seek help. The access to help is probably more available to this population as well. 

     This line of thought brings me back to something I wrote about in a blog a few weeks ago about the tribes in Africa. My peer in the Army and I discussed how life back in the tribe was easy going and far less stressful albeit less intellectually stimulating. My friend told me it was a happier and simpler time. Perhaps those of intelligence could gain something from this perspective when they feel overwhelmed: Life is still essentially simple, there just isn't a need to analyze or ruminate on every single detail and possibility. There is also a time to slow down, and take a while to be blissfully ignorant like a camping trip or a quiet afternoon alone or with friends/family. 

ALC: Advanced Leader Course

     Here I am, back at Fort Sam Houston to attend a medical course. Not really medical, but a course on how to operate as a SSG and SFC as a medic in the Army. Seeing as I'm already a SSG and I have more years as a SGT than some of my peers have time in the Army total I'm a little upset to be here. My real learning experience on how to be a SSG happened a few years ago when I was still a SGT and was thrown to the wolves when I was tagged to be a platoon sergeant for 8 months. Platoon daddy's are usually SFC or a SSG if you're short a SFC but to be an E-5/SGT platoon daddy is just an act of desperation to have someone in charge. To add insult to injury I'm also going to be stuck on Fort Sam, unable to leave, because of restriction of movement order that limits me going home on the weekends. In fact, they are so COVID sensitive here on Fort Sam I can't even walk outside unless I have a mask on. 

    While I'm here though I'm attempting to make the best of my situation as usual. I managed to purchase a water rower right before coming here and lugged it up to the fifth floor of my hotel room. Thankfully I don't share a room with anyone! I'm also having a lot of trips down memory lane being here. I'll expand on that shortly. The first two weeks of class is going to be from 0730 to 1600 on microsoft teams. It sucks having to sit and listen to stuff I know already but I'm having fun with it by switching my backgrounds to star wars images of Hoth or inside the death star. I have even edited a background that has me in it, looking like I'm paying attention. I use this and block my camera with a sticky note so that they see only my background with what seems to be SSG Moore looking intently at the screen. I have done this to take several breaks already. I dare not use it for too long though, and remain vigilant for any auditory hint that I'm not actually giving my attention to the class. Thankfully my hotel has a decent view of San Antonio out of my window and the sun comes to greet me daily through it. The water rower has kept me sane these first two days. I enjoy it's sounds of rushing water and the feel of wood when I put it away. 

    The food situation is less than ideal however. I like to workout between 0630 and 0730. Then I like to shower, eat and prepare for the day which usually begins at 0900. Here my day starts at 0800 which greatly disrupts my routine and frustrates me to no end. The chow hall here is 3/4 mile away. Which is no problem to drive there but the chow halls are hit or miss as this post has all the medical trainees on it and they number in the thousands. So when a company of 100 soldiers marches to the chow hall doors, you may as well go find another one or buy a sandwich. Instead, I eat breakfast at the hotel, which is free and the quality reflects the price. Okay... it's not that bad but I usually eat more than a biscuit, bananas and a small serving of oatmeal for breakfast. It's free and only a short trip down the elevator away; great for those times when you've only got 5 minutes until class starts. 

    For dinner I attempted to drive to the chow hall but as I pulled up there was a company of trainees standing outside. They looked about 50 deep so I decided to drive around post for a little bit and wait it out. I just drove aimlessly for about 30 seconds until I realized I knew where I was. Sidewalks, buildings and streets looked familiar. I knew that I was nearing the training area from years ago when I was being taught the medic ways. Slowly but surely I drove right up to my old barracks. "Alpha Company, 232nd Medical Training Company" was printed on an all too familiar brown sign right outside the tan building that I spent a little more than 4 months in. I've spent longer time in other places but those 4 months dragged on there. I took a quick picture and sent it to my buddies from AIT to get some reactions out of them.  The reactions were mixed. Some were disgusted, and rightfully so, while another buddy of mine did some positive reminiscing with me for awhile in our back and forth. 

    I'm not sure what else I'll do to pass the time here but I'll try and replicate some healthier habits I formed at the recruiting school like daily workouts, walks, prayer time and of course talking with my family. I don't like being away from home, but I can't do anything about it. So for now, I just have to appreciate the small things like getting a piece of banana bread from the chow hall. Nice. 

An Army Story: CAMP BOLUS

     Camp Bolus. A place known to all combat medics of the modern era. A place of tears, sweat, blood, some more blood and the occasional laughter or sleep. After two months of studying to be an EMT and two more months of learning combat medicine the culminating event is a two week tour to Camp Bolus. This is the final graded criteria of combat medic training and can send you back to the beginning of the combat medicine stage if you don't pass. More importantly it's more of the suck. And some fun. I'll tell you a little bit about my time there. I have some very distinct memories.

    The exercise starts off with familiarization of the areas and brief after brief. The first few days are just training and getting told how we will be tested. The entire time we have a dummy rifle to hold on to and have to be accountable for it at all times. A favorite of the instructors is to find them in the porta-johns after you set it down to take a crap. There are challenges that get passed down from cycle to cycle. I participated in one such challenge: No showers the whole time. Not my best move but it was cold and showering in the field is a cumbersome task. The alternative is to baby wipe your self clean. Armpits, crotch, arms, legs, feet, face and even your hair. It takes about 10 wipes but that means a pack of 100 wipes lasts ten days. There is even a deeper level of the challenge where you only wear one uniform the entire time. I changed uniforms after the first week, so I almost got that one. 

    Part of Camp Bolus is that you rotate playing a casualty or the combat medic. It sucks being the casualty and I'll tell you why. Each casualty gets two things: a nasopharyngeal airway (NPA) and an I.V. in the arm. An NPA is basically a rubber hose that is inserted through your right nostril, shoved through the sinus passages and goes down the back of your throat. If you've never had an NPA before I want you to try sticking your pinky finger in your nose the next time you shower, and shove in until there is an immense amount of pressure. Now take your other index finger and stimulate your gag reflex. Now just stay like that for about an hour. On top of that, it's probably cold outside and you've got an IV in your arm that hurts because an 18 year old who just learned what a needle was rammed it into your arm. My friend, Kurt, was my medic once. He decided that I should be a special patient and get an IV in my basilic vein, which is not typical and it hurt, and he also decided I should get two NPA's. One for each nostril. I was strapped to a little, and wrapped in a space blanket so I couldn't do much to resist. It was cold so I laid there wrapped up for about a half an hour deciding on whether or not I would worm my way out. I did worm my way out and self treated my newly inflicted arm wound and massaged my nasal passages. I then got back under the space blanket for a quick nap until the instructors ended the exercise.

    On the final night/day it was an all nighter exercise. We just kept swapping in and out from being patients and medics. It was pretty exhausting and frustrating. It was also cold and wet. At about 0200 my friend Josh and I decided that we had enough and that we were going to wait it out as long as we could in the holding area where people took a break before going back at it. We huddled under a space blanket and hid our faces. We were leaned up against a concrete loading bay and facing east. I know this because when I popped my head up from under the space blanket the sun was rising directly in front of us. It was a sight that brought relief and happiness. Relief knowing that the last day was done and that we would clean up and go home that afternoon. I say happiness and not joy because happiness is fleeting and joy is a longer lived emotion. I was happy the sun was up but I was not happy with all the work ahead to get to my real bed back in the barracks complex. Regardless, I woke my pal up and we decided to act like we were role playing the whole time. 

    If you ever come across a young medic like myself, go ahead and ask him or her about their time at Camp Bolus. You'll see many different emotions come across their face and maybe even smile. You'll be sure to get at least a ten minute story!

Mastery and acceptance of the inevitable.

     If there is one thing I personally crave from a hobby or an activity is mastery of that hobby or activity. I think that is one thing that drives me to keep trying new things constantly... that is until I find the one hobby that I can master and hopefully turn it into a life's work. But is that just a dream? I live in America and the American dream is get a 9-5 and run your hobbies on the side right? Where are the dreamers who turned their passion and mastery into a profitable work?

    I had my first glass of wine in almost a whole year yesterday. It was great. It was a 2017 cabernet sauvignon from the Napa valley and Mendocino valley. It was dark, complex, and pretty darn good. It lifted my spirits and once again had me dreaming of wine culture. What really fascinates me about wine culture, and what makes me so interested in picking it up as a hobby/research interest is the lifestyle of these winemakers. In beer brewing you can turn a new batch of beer in a few weeks and be on to the next. If a mistake is made either capitalize on the mistake by selling it as a special or dump it. In wine making, real wine making, every year it's on the line. The harvest is going to make or break your vintage if that's kind of wine you make. (champagnes for instance are rarely vintaged and are usually a blend of several harvest years unless that year was exceptionally great.) If your harvest is small that year then you sell less wine. If your harvest is great then you bottle more wine. The terroir of the wine, which is a combination of all the factors that affect the grapes such as sunlight, wind, rain, soil, sand, etc all compound to affect that vintage so much so that trained wine drinkers can pinpoint years and geographic locations based on the taste of the wine and their own knowledge of each region. 

    Wine making is something that is passed down for many generations. There are wine makers in France who are working on passing down to the 12th and 13th generation now. Hundreds of years of mastery being passed down and bottled year after year. What a thing to think about, that this wine we can drink today is probably very similar to the wine drunk by the knights templar, the explorers who mapped the unknown in the 1500's and what not. Yet here I am, in 2021 and I can barely keep a blog going on a weekly, much less a daily, basis. 

    Perhaps I wasn't meant to master anything, but maybe to be a consumer... Well screw that, I want to master something and dammit I won't stop until I do. 

Hobbies: Why Bother Creating?

     The question of why I feel the need to create has been on my mind the last few days. Not that I've really had time to ponder the answer but it certainly comes to mind when I think about my hobbies I want to do and what future endeavors I'll embark on. From a purely logical standpoint my hobbies have cost me more money than money I saved making beer or soap or whatever. Even my motorcycle that gets 100 miles to the gallon will still only save me so much money after I pay it off. I'll have to ride this Honda Grom 5000 miles before it's saved enough money to pay itself off. And then I have to ride it at least a few times a month to work in order to justify the tax and insurance! Regardless, the relentless desire to seek out new hobbies and expand upon the ones I already have is great. But why?

    It is said that creating art is our attempt to portray beauty, to convey an idea, capture an emotion and evoke it in others. What about making soap? Do life long soap makers have a desire, either forefront in their mind or tucked away in the subconscious, to invoke a feeling in other human beings? After all, some create for pure monetary gain. Why create new fast food? Why create images for a marketing business? Some forms of art or creation are just purely motivated by profit. I don't necessarily think that it's wrong. On the contrary, there is an art in itself of creating a new marketing ploy that gets consumers to buy a cheaply made product or sub par service. (Like cable TV or any expensive brand of bleach) 

    There are many artists who despite going into bankruptcy, being homeless or suffering physically at the hands of other people or government still act upon the desire to create. Why are human beings the only living things that feel this need to create to the point of death for the principle of creating? Is it because we are free too, or at least Should be free to create? Is creating a human right? Is the expression of emotion, in some physical form that others can be galvanized by it or for it, a human right as unalienable as the right to life? Perhaps America's founding fathers thought a little bit about this subject as it's the very first bill in the bill of rights that protects our ability to express in speech and in press. But what about the right to express in marble or clay? On canvas with oil or acrylic? What about with soap?

    The censorship of art, other than written word, is a little easier to get away with. Take away the funding for different areas of art and it will diminish from public view. (Such was the case before social media connected everyone I'll imagine.) Movies are a great example of censorship as they are restricted with ratings and certain films of more mature content can't be shown during sensible hours or display such graphic content over public broadcast. Radio, as we all know, prohibits use of swear words and other vulgar terms via the FCC. While this all makes sense as we don't want to expose our kids and other sensitive groups to such language and content, is this form of censorship still too much? Should our ability to express, and more importantly to consume, be restricted by anybody but the individual? After all, I know that certain TV shows expose me to more mature and often vulgar content than what I would want. By simply not consuming that show with my viewership I can self regulate. Does this mean that billboards could or should be plastered with obscene images or language for the sake of advertising? Sex sells as they say, and I can't imagine too many people would be happy seeing erotic images to sell a product or service. Then again, watch a few superbowl ads and you'll be shocked at what comes up. 

    Perhaps a little government censorship is necessary in order to separate us from the animals. Animals are only beautiful with vibrant colors, feathers, fur, antlers, etc because they want to mate and continue their existence. As mankind we are supposed to be above that having conquered the elements and transcended into a state of existence where art and the creation of it is worth writing about, thinking about or actually doing. What we really need is to get all these old bats out of congress and get some fresh and edgy blood in their to shake things up!

    In the end, I suppose it doesn't matter why we create because if the urge is still there then what are we to do other than satisfy the want? Life is about wants and needs. We "need" 3 things to stay alive: food, water and shelter from the elements. But our ancestors, who barely had these three things, still took time and caloric effort to search out materials and transform them into cave art. At this point, perhaps creating art or consuming it should be considered a need just as much as food or water is. In complete isolation, we still feel the need to create, maybe even more so in isolation. Maybe that's a sign that we bother to create because we need to create: Creating art is a human condition. 

Hobbies

      Over the years I have embarked on many different paths during my free time. Finding a hobby has always been a passion of mine. In my early years, the hobbies I chose were just shots in the dark with little thought given to them. Now, there is significantly more thought put into each one. For example, in my earlier 20's I thought I could pick up the hobby of casting aluminum or other metals whilst I was a geographical bachelor and living in an on post apartment at Fort Benning. This did not work for several reasons: Firstly, I didn't have the right or proper equipment to do so. In lieu of this, I crafted my own forge, complete with forced air induction via a hair dryer and used welding gloves and kitchen tongs to handle the stainless steel cup that I used as a crucible for aluminum cans I was melting for raw material. I successfully casted a single "coin" which was about a half in thick glob of aluminum that you could barely see the outline of the basic parachutist badge. I would later give this coin away to the man who beat me in a 12-mile ruck. My wife hated this hobby because it involved intense heat, noxious/toxic fumes, and liquid metal. 

    My most successful (and time consuming) hobby was brewing beer. I started by buying a one gallon brew kit that came with a small one gallon keg. My first batch was a pumpkin ale and it wasn't too bad. I was hooked though. I made batch after batch; each batch would take hours of painstaking attention to detail and note taking. I read books, articles and watched hundreds of videos on different techniques of brewing, the history, the styles, etc. I spent countless hours developing a sense of the beer culture by listening to beer podcasts on brewing and the beer culture. It was an amazing hobby but once I had kids, it was no longer something that was feasible for me. Brewing beer, all grain brewing, takes at least 6-8 hours. I have literally spent sun up to almost sun down brewing a batch of beer. Combined with my slowing down on drinking, my hobby died out after around 3-4 years. I loved beer brewing, and I wish so badly to get back into it but I wouldn't enjoy the fruits of my labor even if I did dedicate the time to it. I don't really drink any more but sips of this or that and my GERD has gotten pretty bad as of late. It was a hobby I enjoyed thoroughly.     

    One hobby that I have chosen recently was chosen for practicality and flexibility: Soap Bar Making. it met the few critical criteria that I needed to pursue it: 1) It didn't take more than two hours to partake. 2) I could do it all at home. 3) It's dirt cheap. 4) It produced something useful. 5) It's not very dangerous; except for the lye. I have made a few batches of hot process soap so far and it has been pretty rewarding so far. My wife enjoys using it in the shower and for washing hands and so do I. I have short hair currently so I use my soap only for washing my entire body. I can also experiment with smells by using different oils. I am looking forward to dialing in a great manly smell and producing a lot of soap for the future. I have also applied to the Guinness book of World Records to produce the largest soap on a rope. I plan on making close to an 80lb sphere of soap on a rope using my old Atlas stone molds. 

     I used to make Atlas stones. This was a great one that I may start doing again because it doesn't take long, it's dirt cheap and I can make some money doing it. I made several hundred dollars doing it for a few months at my last duty station and there's a market for workout stuff with all the COVID crap. Also, I just enjoy making huge concrete spheres. I think they look awesome and they are just heavy. 

    To list a few other hobbies I attempted over the years are as follows: Photography, videography, video games, watching dragon ball Z, mountain biking (real mountain biking), canoeing, fishing, PC building (which I did successfully), wine tasting, type writer restoration (one successful attempt), Lock-Picking (I am still able to do at a novice level), wood carving, painting, drawing/sketching, and probably a few more I don't remember. 

      To list a few hobbies that I still do: soap making, geocaching, disc golfing, blogging, working out/running, motorcycle riding, and watching Hockey. Who knows what I'll do next, but I just want to find a hobby that I could really feel like it'll be a lifelong love. After I retire, hopefully from the military and getting a paycheck every month, I just want to enjoy my hobbies and live a nice quiet life... maybe. 

Thoughts on New years and lifestyles.

      Here it is, another New Year: 2021. What has changed beyond numbers on the calendar? What resolutions will I make for this new year? Nothing has changed beyond the numerical value of the year and I shall make no resolutions. As many others have made resolutions in the years past I have also failed those resolutions. I don't really think it's healthy to make resolutions, especially life changing ones. It would be like a smoker saying they are going to quit at the end of the month, never to return to a years long, if not a life long habit. Many people think of  a new image or a new result for themselves well before the new year starts; they sit in their cozy homes over a nice holiday of Christmas and think to themselves of what the new year will bring and what they should be next year. I have fallen for this trap many years but I stopped all resolutions last new years. I resolve not to resolve you could say. I don't feel like disappointing myself after the inevitable failure and I certainly don't need anything else to contribute to my stress levels. 

     On the topic of stress and life, I had some thoughts on that the last few days. I dreamt, for a day or two, of buying hundreds of acres in some forested land of America and living free off the land, only to worry about surviving and paying for the bare necessities when the time came. This has seemed like an ideal way to live to me: getting back to real human nature and back to what our bodies were made for. It reminds me of something a co-worker said to me once. This co-worker in the Army was originally from Africa, and he had joined to get citizenship to America in hopes of a better life. While we as Americans look upon the african tribes and harsh living conditions of those who live in the slum cities the man had another perspective I had never thought about, he said, "You know, life in Africa in a way was easier than life here in America. There was less to do, life was simple. Every day I woke up with the sun, or whenever I wanted too. I did my usual work in the fields and with the animals or whatever else I had to do that day and then I would come home. Home was never far from work because I worked at my house. I played with my family and friends, worked on crafts and did whatever I wanted for many hours of the day. My meals were simple but good and I didn't worry about paying this bill or doing anything else but living and doing what I needed to do...". 

      I, of course, am using these quotations lightly and am attempted to rebuild our conversation in my head. Through my short time in the Army I have trained more soldiers than I can remember. When I train a soldier, I always ask the same basic questions: where are you from? Why did you join the Army? What do you want to do with your life? I ask these things because I do care about the soldier and I want to help guide them in any way I can. I don't remember a lot of the soldiers who I asked these questions but I certainly remember the conversation and the soldier who gave me his perspective on life in the wilderness. 

     It seems far too easy, buy land, move to it and live on it. But even then, how will you pay your property taxes every year? What if your kids get sick? What if you are mortally ill or wounded, where will you go? Hundreds of questions like that swarm through my mind when I think of this "ideal" off the grid lifestyle. The answer to most of those questions is you deal with it alone and take what breaks you can catch until you die. A steep price to pay for a lifestyle on the extreme. What is the truth on the best lifestyle? Is it really one extreme or the other? Is it in the middle, just taking the best and most ideal aspect of each extreme?..... I don't know and I doubt I ever will know. I think life is just is what you are dealt by the Good Lord and you probably shouldn't try and force a change unless you think it's God's will... I guess I just feel still a little trapped by the Army life and my inability to maintain my current lifestyle outside of the Army and I seek an escape: the ultimate escape of the off grid dream. Alas, I will deal with the mundane, the stressful and non-compatible suburban lifestyle that has been dished out to me. After all, would life really be that much better on the other side? If I ever find out, I resolve to write a book on it. It'll be a grand slam of a book too!