Rant

I wish I could complain about the massive amounts of work I needed to get accomplished this week. I wish I could complain about the hum drum, day to day monotony of performing too similar tasks for days on end. I wish I could complain about an overly needy client confronting us hourly with nonsensical fire drills.

I got none of that. Wishes and fishes, you know. Strange that I’d waste mine on complaining.



In another light, I’d wish there was no official United State military presence in Afghanland (call it “Afghan-bland” in this, the Week of the Bored. More refined, I’d wish that all of our troops and equipment were returned to native (and territorial) soils. Perhaps we could return once we’ve figured out how to resolve our global foreign policy fuck-ups without mighty displays of brute force. Fat chance.

The unintended consequences of bringing all of our troops home would be interesting, no doubt. Imagine if you will, a sudden influx of half a million very well trained fighting men and women, each oathsworn to protect and defend the Constitution of the United States from all enemies, foreign and domestic. Perhaps the resistance would get organized.

On the other hand, they could be a half million inappropriately trained fighting men and women suddenly dumped into the surging unemployment rolls of the double dip. And it’s not just the soldiers, sailors, and Marines, but the hundreds of thousands of contractors who will be stateside again without the benefit of a cush job that pays triple wages. Beyond that are the hundreds of communities that manufacture the weapons of war, and the thousands of communities that provide support for the hundreds of communities that manufacture the weapons of war. And don’t forget the tens of thousands of bureaucrats that “manage” the whole mess or the small town international engineering firms that provide planning and design services in support of the effort. We’d all be neck deep in shit.

True fact - the Military-Industrial-Congressional complex squanders over eighteen gazillion dollars annually on themselves and their egos with the only real benefit of having more of the People on the dole.

So there’s my first complaint/wish – regardless of the consequences, everybody comes home. From Afghanistan and Iraq, from the Middle East and other Asian regions, and from Europe, Africa, and the Americas. We defund it all. The eighteen gazillion dollars in annual savings would go a long way to closing the federal deficit. Then, when Germany, Japan, Korea, Saudi Arabia and Israel have to start paying to defend themselves, the balances of trade might shift a bit in our favor, giving the half million highly trainable fighting men and women some of those sweet manufacturing jobs that everyone keep raving about.

Like I said before, fat chance, but this is a wish, remember?

Perhaps we could take everyone who’s already on the dole in America and send them here to do the tens of thousands of jobs that are currently being performed by local labor or by the Eastern European labor imported by Fluor as a part of their multi-Billion dollar support contract? Sure beats them sitting on their asses, watching Peoples Court and pretending to look for a non-existent job.

For the most part, I’ll be happy just getting on the plane tomorrow. This week has been dismal, but only because we’re so good. You see, this mission to Bagram involved a small team and a 75% plan set, which we would review with the client, then take CONUS to tweak for the final submittal. As it turned out, there were close to zero comments. As such, the meetings were brief. So brief that the pre- and post-meeting pleasantries took more time than the unpleasantries of project discussion.

Anyway, that was ancient history, days ago. In the mean time, we’ve visited a dozen and a half small project sites, mostly for something to do, as there’s little more information that we can glean in the field than what we had when we dropped out of the sky on Sunday. And drop out of the sky we did, which is a phrase that in this case means, “Who the hell are you and where do you expect to sleep?” Relax, already, Miss Should Have Been Trained For This. We’ll take our normal suite.

We’ll take the vehicle you offer, as well, even though we haven’t passed a base driving test (recently) and have no real destination. Ah, but it’s something to use to have something to do, and sure beats walking around the 10 mile perimeter on our sightseeing excursions.

This was my third trip to and through Bagram, so there aren’t too many holes I haven’t stuck my nose into. One of our crew, though, was on his first visit here, so we made sure to take him to the Haji Mart and the PX, and to the Green Bean for froo froo coffee beverages, and ultimately to all six DFAC’s, where the food doesn’t change too much, but the scenery and people are slightly varied. One thing I won’t do again is get an omelet at the north grill line at the main DFAC, as the cook appears to have just stepped from the pages of Stereotypic Lunch Lady Quarterly and frankly, I’m a little frightened. I fully expected ashes from her cigar to spice my breakfast.

Tonight we’re going to check out one of the local bands (our local project manager is their mouth harpist), then take another long stroll down Disney Road back to the hooch, where I’ll watch the clock and wish for more thrills and adventure the next time around.

And there’s sure to be a next time, as peace has yet to be declared, and I’m still a few years from retirement.

Lastly, happy anniversary, Sweetheart. I’ll be home soon.