#GOPGunsOverPeople #GOPpartyofno #GOPpartyofPutin #GOPpartyoflies

      I used to say *seriously* the price you have to be willing to pay for nearly unfettered access to guns is the occasional mass murder. But we’ve gone way beyond the ‘occasional’ mass murder. I wasn’t okay with the price to pay for the ‘occasional’ mass murder before, and I’m not okay with what seems to be a regular occurrence.

     I worked in the defense industry in the second part of my career. For the first part, I was as teacher.  4th grade was my gig. Those 19 dead kids? 4th graders. I thought about all the 4th graders I taught and loved and that was an additional gut punch on top of this God awful horror. You know what kind of drills we had in school? Fire drills. And today, in the U.S. you have active shooter drills. In schools. Jesus. Who are we as a country? What do we stand for? Is nearly unlimited gun access more important than the lives of children? After Sandy Hook, nothing was done. After Parkland, nothing was done. And there were hundreds of mass shootings in between, nothing was done. While in the defense industry, I had many friends who were Republicans and serious gun collectors. One guy I worked with in Afghanistan had 75 guns and over 20,000 rounds of ammunition. Why, I asked him? To protect himself from the government was his reply. He was crazy. And this is crazy. 

     GOP, c’mon. If I’m a felon, I can buy an AR-15 today. Sure, I’d be breaking the law, but if I wanted one, I could get one - just go to a gun show and buy from a third party. I’ve been to gun shows. I’ve actually been to two of them, both in Fort Worth. Then first time, I went because I was curious. The second time, I brought my wife (on Valentines Day, you’re welcome honey!) People march around with a flag stuck in the barrel of their AR-15’s that has a price on the gun. I have the money. I can buy one. No background check. If I wanted to buy a car, I’d have to have a license, which involves taking a written and practical test. Get insurance (which would include a background check into my driving history). Register and license my vehicle with the state. But not for a gun, thank you gun show loophole that the GOP won’t even talk about closing. And remember, law abiding AR-15 owners are law abiding AR-15 owners. Until the day they’re not. If I want an AR-15 today, I can buy one (and for the record, I’m not a felon, never even had a speeding ticket.) I have a clean background and have the money. I’ve never fired a gun before, but I can buy one, with no instruction, no training, no test to pass so I can demonstrate I know how to locate the safety, load it, store it and fire it. Again, that’s crazy. The worst tragedy is what happened, again, at Uvalde. The second worst tragedy is the GOP will obstruct any meaningful gun laws so they can hold on to power and money. Hey Republicans, are you going to do anything? Anything at all? I fear the deeply saddening answer to that question is no. 

#GOPGunsOverPeople #GOPpartyofPutin #GOPpartyofno #GOPpartyoflies

The last leg(s)

    I just spent some time meandering around Thailand and Cambodia. I have really missed getting on a plane and going somewhere…different. I planned this trip in 2020, but we all know how that worked out. The timing for this trip ended up working well. Due to fairly strict requirements for entry and mandatory mask wearing,

                                               Everyone was wearing a mask, everywhere. Even this guy.

it was remarkably quiet. That may put off some tourists interested in the night life, but I’m an early to bed early to rise kind of guy, so I was never into that scene. I started off in Bangkok, got my physical and a few things done in the miracle that is Bumrungrad Hospital. Being in Bumrungrad feels like a 5 star hotel. The physical is like a well oiled machine, station to station and then a nice buffet after tests are done. You get to see a doctor to review the results of said tests right after your meal. If you need any follow up appointments with specialists, you can likely get them at Bumrungrad, that day. I had two sebaceous cysts on my head and during the review with my physician I mentioned them. She said, “Oh, you have to go to surgery for that. They’re on the 15th floor. Would you like to see someone about that now?” And just like that, I saw another doctor who felt the bumps on my head and asked if I had time to get them taken out. They did a price work up, told me how much it would cost (mine was covered by insurance, but think of that - told the price before the procedure!) Bing bang boom. Out. Bumrungrad. Clean, modern, efficient, transparent pricing - everything US healthcare is not, which is why I’ll continue to return there for health care.

Bumrungrad food experience - hospital food I can get behind.

Like a 5 star hotel. I like how the guards salute and click their heels when you’re crossing.

Everybody gets temp checked upon entry.

     Cambodia was a delight as well, I’ve been to Angkor Wat twice before, and this was truly a once in a lifetime experience because there were so few people there. It felt like I was the only one wandering around some of those temples because, well, I was. Ta Prohm is famous for the trees that grew over the temple. There used to be lines of people waiting to get their picture taken there, this time, there were a few tourists wandering around but some of the lesser known temples were absolutely empty.

It was a surreal experience. I think the only downside about Cambodia was the COVID test on entry. Everyone had to have a rapid PCR test done maybe due to having to test an entire plane at once, they were less than

                                                          I did not try this beer in Cambodia.

gentle when administering the brain stab. I’ve had a LOT of PCR tests, and maybe because the Khmer’s have some experience in torture, that one was the worst. 

     After 10 days cycling around Chiang Mai, I spent some more time at Bumrungrad getting an issue with my hand taken care of. I chose to spend some recuperation time at the Shangri-la hotel, perched right on the Chao Phraya River. I enjoyed watching all kinds of watercraft, the barges, long tailed boats, water taxis and tugs ply their craft. I spent a lot of time watching life on the river go by, particularly in the am, when I took my breakfast right next to the river.

                                                              View from the Shangri-la

     Every time I leaned over the river, with my phone in my hand, I remembered Chekov’s writing advice: “If you say in the first chapter that there is a rifle hanging on the wall, in the second or third chapter, it absolutely must go off. If it’s not going to be fired, it shouldn’t be hanging there.” I thought about this any time my phone got near the water and in my head the thought bubble said, “If your phone is hovering above the river, then in the second or third paragraph, there must be a ‘kerplunk’ which can only mean the phone has sunk to the depths of the river.” Every time I had that thought, I tightened my grip on my phone and slowly brought it back over terra firma. 

Do you know the mutton man? This guy was on the BKK side of the river, butchering halal mutton every day. He was okay because he threw scraps down for the feral kittens around his stall.

    Gwyne came for the last two weeks of my trip, first for her physical at Bumrungrad Hospital and then some much desired beach time. She spent her night in COVID jail before her second test came back negative. I bundled myself over to the other side of the river so we could start her vacation. We spent a few days there before heading down to Hua Hin. When my doctor asked how we were getting there, I told him we were thinking of taking the train. He was taken aback and suggested, strongly, we take a car there. I’ve been on many Thai trains, and I understood his reaction. They can be slow and timeliness is sketchy. The food vendors on them are great and it’s an experience I enjoy. But the last two weeks were Gwyne’s time, so we hired a driver to take us down there. Hua Hin is a rather sedate beach town compared to other more well known Thailand beach destinations, which suited both of us just fine. Gwyne did what she liked, which was to eat good food and lie by the pool, I did what I liked, which was listening to as many podcasts as I could on long walks on the beach after breakfast, then wandering around the markets sneaking street food and getting a massage every day. 

     And just like that, we were home again, home again jiggity jig. I had two months of luxury hotels, fabulous buffet breakfasts and plenty of delicious street food. Like I said before, everyone was wearing masks, all the time. Other than that, it seemed so…normal. Yeah, there were a lot of closed businesses and the more touristy spots were nearly empty. But the trains, buses, subway and metro were plenty filled. Shopping centers were buzzing with people. It was hard to find a seat at Sukhumvit’s Terminal 21 food court at lunch time. The second morning back home in Alabama, I had to go to the store to get food supplies. I called Gwyne and said, “What time does breakfast start?” We stayed at a few different hotels, sometimes the buffet opened at 0700 (middle of the day), 0630 (better) or 0600 (preferable). Back home? You make your own coffee, cut your own fruit, cook your own food and make your own damn bed. But not for long. 

Chiang Mai

      Chiang Mai has always been one of my go to happy places. It’s a city defined by a moat around mostly ancient walls and is super easy to navigate. I just spent 8 days there, on a bicycle or walking and have mixed feelings. Maybe it’s this whole trip and not just Chiang Mai. Maybe it’s everything else going on in the world. On the plus side, I gambled the masses of visitors to Thailand and Cambodia would not have surged the moment they opened due to onerous COVID testing requirements, restrictions and uncertainty. That was a win, it’s been fairly empty. I also hoped there would be a fire sale on 5 star hotels due to low occupancy, win #2. There’s only been one quick downpour since I’ve been here, I’m getting tired of all the winning. But it’s also been hotter than a pair of balls in skinny jeans, even up in Chiang Mai. And because I came early, I missed out on prime rambutan and mangosteen season, durian are not exactly plentiful either. Triple win and then triple lose, but the wins were weighted way heavier than the losses. The real pain though, comes from witnessing the economic devastation of two economies who shut down hard that were overly reliant on tourism revenue. 

     Chiang Mai seems to be coming back slower than Bangkok. Large swaths of the Night Bazaar are empty and many businesses along Taeprae road were shuttered. The tuk tuk drivers were ‘tuk tuking sir?’ and the massage ladies were ‘Massage kaaaaaaaaing?’ with a sense of desperation I’ve never seen before. They have always been super pesky, but this was on another very sad level. But this trip, I did something I’ve never done in 28 years of coming to SE Asia. I didn’t bargain. Not once. It’s part of the culture to haggle, even among locals though there’s still a cheaper starting price for them. Tipping is also not something many SE Asians do. But I did. Generously.

     The bike rides have been delightful. I usually started out getting lost somewhere outside the old city, then doing a loop on the outer and inter rings before stopping to pick up breakfast (20 baht or 60 cents for those counting, and surprise -  I’m counting) at a market. Along the way, there always seem to be 15th century stupas woven into the fabric of the city.

Across front the market, in the middle of the city

Choose your curry

Next to the University

The downtube had a logo ‘Live Natural’ I prefer unnatural tubes and tires on my bicycles

And the masks.

Except for a few freedom loving, my body my choice farang patriot tourists, everyone was wearing one, all the time. There is joy in putting on a fresh mask, and more joy in taking one off after a hot sweaty bike ride. 

This lady stoked her fire with charcoal every morning, cooking bananas

This guy fried something every morning and always had a line

And then there was this. Today’s gonna be fucking awesome. 

     I saw this on my last day. I liked it. But today is just going to fucking suck for some people and it’s going to be tragic for so many more. I’m not sure what to do except to try to make my tomorrow as fucking awesome as I can for myself and to try to live up to one of my favorite tag lines, from the podcast Freakanomics - “Take care of yourself, and if you can, someone else too.”

      

      Cambodia is a bit more wild west-ish (or is it east-ish?) than other SE Asian countries. I just took a 10 day trip there, anticipating Angkor Wat to be fairly devoid of tourists and it turned out to be a jackpot of emptiness. I’ve been there twice before, once in 1997 helping supervise a 6th grade class from an international school in Phnom Penh on a field trip to Angkor Wat. We ended up running into a group of Khmer Rouge on a trip to Banteay Srey, but that’s a story for another day. The next visit was in 2019 and Siem Reap had been transformed from a sleepy one road backwater town to a neon lit party town. Not my cup of tea. But this time? Siem Reap was empty, Pub Street was dead and it was fantastic to cycle around the complex because most of the time, I was by myself. 

     The rest of the time I spent getting lost on a rented mountain bike around Siem Reap. I was in a delightful hotel that had 170 rooms. 7 were occupied when I was there, which left the pool completely open for laps during the oppressively hot afternoons, which suited me just fine after a long, sweaty ride.

     I hired a driver to take me to Siem Reap, he managed to shorten a 5 -6 hour ride into a 4 hour every car he passed was nearly a head on collision trip. A little terrifying. But like I said, Cambodia is a little more wild east-ish. There is a definite flow to what seems like chaotic traffic - on the lowest rung of the totem pole is the pedestrian, then the cyclist, next is the moto (the very popular and ubiquitous 100cc scooter), tuk tuk’s, cars and finally, anything bigger than a car. Give way to the larger vehicle, they always have the right of way.

     The last few days in Phnom Penh were spent mostly dealing with, getting and picking up COVID tests. I knew this was going to be a hassle during this whole trip, but it is also what made it worthwhile - there weren’t many tourists around, which I was gambling on. When I got my negative test in PP, I fairly heard Charlie Bucket singing, “I’ve got a golden ticket!” And then I imagined the people at the test center looking at me as I smiled coming out singing, “He’s got a golden ticket!” It was just very relieving knowing the next leg of travel was a go.

     Because I love history, I also went to the Tuol Sleng Genocide museum, which was horrifying. Nobody knows exactly how many people were tortured and killed there, they estimate between 18 and 20,000 souls. But there are 12 known survivors. One of them was at the museum and I met him - his English seemed to be limited to “I sign for you, I sign for you,” as he sold the books. Just think about that - he sold books at the prison he was tortured at. I think the human capacity to adapt is nearly unlimited. 

Bou Meng, one of *12* survivors

     Unfortunately for me, I bought the French version of his book. My 7th and 8th grade French won’t get me very far, but being in Cambodia and the French book reminded me of the first time I was there. I ended up taking a motorcycle taxi to the Central Market and the driver said, “Parlez vous Francais?” This turned out to be an important life lesson. I said, relying on that 7th and 8th grade French, “Oui, je parle un peu de Francais.” The life lesson was: if you know a few phrases and words in another language, you don’t speak that language, so don’t say you do. Because if you do, you may end up on the backside of a motorcycle, going the wrong way on a one way street with some maniac nattering away in the language you said you spoke ‘a little’ of. 

     I also whiled away some time sitting on the banks of the mighty Mekong, watching the river life and enjoying the morning market.

Live aboard?

Keeping up with the news

Local fish monger

For those wondering, these are frogs.

     I managed to get out of Cambodia and back into Thailand, take another brain stab when I got the hotel and was put into COVID jail until the results came back. For the test and go program, you can’t leave your room until you get the results, and the call was not particularly welcome. I was tested around 1030 at night and the phone rang at 0937. “Sawadee Kaaaaaa, is this Kuhn Alan Taylor?” “Yes it is,” says I. “We are calling with the results of your COVID test from last night.” I know they’re calling with the results. There is no other reason for the phone to ring in my rather pleasant COVID cell. I prefer just sticking the knife in with no preliminaries. Mr. Taylor, you are negative, or tell me the opposite. Then she said, “The results are negative.”  Whew! I’m 21 days into this trip. The count is 8 PCR tests so far with one more to go. Hands down, worth it.

     

 

 

      Travel these days. Until you get on the plane, you don’t know what’s going to happen. And if you have multiple legs in your trip, then everything’s a crapshoot. And international travel? Pffffft. The odds are not in your favor. But I rolled the dice. I applied for the Thailand test and go pass and got approved back in early December. They shut that entry procedure down to new applicants, but those who did the limbo and got in under the wire were still okay to come in. Then they opened that program up again and changed some of the requirements. I’m expecting the unexpected. This trip was supposed to happen in March, 2020 but we all know how that panned out. 

     I finally got here on a different itinerary after the original one was cancelled due to weather and the second one for lack of crew rest. Once here, I got put into COVID jail until my first PCR test came back negative. Then I enjoyed sweet freedom for four more days until the next PCR test. I’ve been coming to Thailand fairly regularly since 1984 and every time I come, some things are still the same and some things change. The change? You can expect that because c’mon, 28 some years. And things that remain the same are in some ways…comforting, like the Red Bus.

     It has been many, many, many years since I’ve stepped foot into one of these, but when I first came here, there were a few ways of getting around the city. There were taxis, which no self respecting backpacker would ever take, those were for rich people. Then there was the Red Bus and Blue Bus. The Blue Bus had/has a/c. The Blue Bus has since been upgraded and digitized, the Red Bus remains unadulterated. Red was 2 Baht, Blue was 5 Baht, that’s back when the baht was fixed to the dollar at 25:1. I never experienced the delicious iciness of  the Blue Bus’ a/c. On the Red Bus it was crowded, you stood, it was hot and you sweated. But you were also saving that precious 3 Baht. The ticket lady would make her way up and down the aisle with a longish cylinder that she opened and closed with a distinct SNAP SNAP SNAP SNAP. SNAP. It was always that pattern - 4 snaps, then 1 sharp snap (Pay up). Give the lady your 2 Baht, and she’d take a ticket and SNAP a piece of the ticket off, indicating you paid. Then she’d go up and down the aisle, SNAP SNAP SNAP SNAPPING as she collected the fares. Who knows what happened on the Blue Bus, because that was for those who had extra Baht to throw around. Traffic has gotten much, much better and Bangkok is easy to get around due to their elevated rail system (BTS) and their subway (MRT), but the roads are still frenetic.

     Many, many other things have changed over the years, but I was particularly interested in what havoc the last two years wreaked. Bumrungrad Hospital was the same, a marvel of modern efficiency. I got a full physical done and visited my dermatologist. If you need to see a specialist after your physical for any reason, they’re available at Bumrungrad…the.same.damn.day. There are heaps of shops that once sold who knows what that are now shuttered. My favorite shawarma stand near Bumrungrad survived and even expanded. Bad Burger, which I only patronized once solely due to it’s ad “We take your money and make you fat” has permanently closed. Still love the honesty in advertising. 

     But one thing that has remained constant over the years is the way Bangkok wakes up, and this has always fascinated me. Street food. Hawkers. Every morning, they start from scratch and set up their stand. Some are really simple rigs, like the fruit sellers. A cart with ice and sliced fruit. 

No tricks. Papaya, watermelon, pineapple and whatever fruits that are in season. But these mobile food stands, which many Thais eat from every day, can be a little more complex. This lady looks like she has a som tam (papaya salad) stand, wheeled in and out every day.

People also cook, sometimes using earthen cookware with charcoal up to complete rigs attached to a motorcycle, cooking with propane. They carry seats and tables to set up as well, like this lady. 

Every night, they break it down. Every morning, they set it up. The food is delicious and with very low fixed costs, the price is right. Here’s a middle man, selling vegetable and herbs to other hawkers for their stands - 

     Street food. I love it, and I’m going to continue noshing on it for the next month. Gwyne is going to come during the last two weeks of this trip to do her physical at Bumrungrad and get in some beach time for a much needed vacation. She’s 50% Japanese, but 100% petrified of germs. When the pandemic hit in 2020, we already had plenty of sanitizer around the house, and a few masks as well. When she comes, if I want to eat with her (and I do), we won’t be eating street food. But the smart money should be betting on me sneaking off for some unobserved snacks. 

    

 

Selma? Memphis?

      We’ve been cooped up (mostly) in Huntsville, Alabama for the better part of two years. I had a two month trip to Thailand and Cambodia planned, but that was in March, 2020. That obviously didn’t happen. I’ve managed to mask up and sneak away a few times, a few times to Santa Barbara to see my parents, once to DC for a work gig, then to Balad, Iraq for another work gig. Gwyne came with me to DC and then took a trip to Santa Cruz with her sister and mother. But it’s been mostly Huntsville and COVID, Huntsville and Delta COVID and now Huntsville and Omnicron COVID. We’re tired of this shit. I know everyone else is too. So when Gwyne blurted out of the blue, “Let’s go somewhere.” I said, “Sure, where do you want to go?” She didn’t know and I suggested Selma, AL because we both love history and I’ve been meaning to go there. But we looked at the weather and it said it was going to rain, rain, rain. She threw out Memphis as an idea. I looked at the weather forecast there and saw what appeared to be a decent window and checked things to do. I found a lovely 6 block walking tour of historical architecture and businesses downtown. Gwyne likes eating out, so I asked her to find an authentic BBQ joint because well, Memphis. The hotels downtown were $300 a night, so we made a reservation across the Mississippi River in Arkansas. And the next morning, we were off. On the drive there, we saw a sign that said Historic Courtland and we quickly veered left. We’re curious and had the time, so why not? It was a relatively quick drive through what may have once been historic, but turned out to be a town with broken down trailers (that still seemed to host human occupants) and shuttered store fronts. 

Courtland, Alabama

I said, “This is a dying town.” Gwyne replied, “This town’s not dying, it’s dead.”

     Onward to Memphis then! It’s about a 3 1/2 hour drive from Huntsville to Memphis, we’d be getting there at lunch time. Gwyne thought it would be fun to go a place featured in Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives so we plugged in the address for Leonards Pit Barbecue and took off. I have Siri set to an Indian woman’s voice, and she pronounced Leonards as Leo naards. It sounded so much more sophisticated. I thought we’d pick up some BBQ and take it down to a park and have a leisurely lunch on the banks of the mighty Mississippi. When we got there, the restaurant looked much more like Leonards then a Leo naards and while we were waiting for our food, they told us there was a Bowl game today and downtown was going to be crazy, so we might want to avoid going down there after the game. We took off for the park and as soon as we got there, the wind and rain came, 6 hours earlier than predicted. We could barely see the river but found a table under a patio and shivered as we noshed. The food, unfortunately, did not warm up our spirits or live up to Guy Fieri’s billing. I suggested going to the hotel to see if we could check in early, so we drove there (only getting lost once) through the driving rain. Oh, btw, neither Gwyne nor I enjoy driving. At all. I am a nervous driver. I drive the speed limit with cruise control (okay, sometimes 2 miles over the speed limit when I’m feeling a little feisty) and you can fairly hear drivers behind us yelling, “MOVE IT GRANDPA!” Gwyne is a short, distracted Asian woman. On the way back, I yawned and she asked if I wanted her to drive. I quickly said, “Oh God no.” We both laughed and laughed. I waited in the car while Gwyne went in to check on the room. She came back and said, “Do you want to hear the bad news or the bad news?” I paused and said, “Give me the bad news first.” Says Gwyne, “The hotel was completely booked last night and it’s completely booked tonight. No early check in AND there’s no secure place to store our bags while we wait. There’s a Bowl game tonight.” Right. There’s that darn Bowl game again. I’m not interested in American football at all so I just didn’t think to check on that. We thought we’d hang in the lobby of the hotel and see if there was anything edible left from the lunch. There wasn’t and we ended up throwing the rest away. Neither of us are particularly good at waiting around doing nothing, so we decided to go to the casino across the street for amusement purposes. Spoiler alert: it was not amusing. I enjoy gambling, but only for small sums of money when the odds are overwhelmingly in my favor. The clientele inside, based on their walkers, canes and attire did not appear to have tremendous amounts of disposable income to fritter away. After less than 10 minutes, we went back to the hotel lobby and maybe due to Gwyne’s Hilton Diamond Member status, a room had been found for us early. We checked in and I raised the blinds. What a lovely view!

     So we chuckled about our mishaps, after all the planning had been mostly good, but the execution sucked. So far. 

     The next day we nibbled on the substandard hotel provided breakfast and went downtown for the historical walking tour, which was inexpertly guided by me. I was reading from a script I pulled off the internet and missed a few buildings. But it was a great experience. I think the highlight was the Lorraine hotel, where MLK was assassinated. Historical events. It takes my breath away when I’m right there, where it happened. The Civil Rights Museum wasn’t open, but they had some self paced videos outside of the hotel. Then we completed the rest of my inexpertly guided tour, took a walk along the Mississippi and then back to the hotel to check out. 

 

     The second day made up for the first day’s repeated follies. And when trips are relatively unplanned, you have to accept and be ready to laugh about a few unexpected twists, turns, shimmies and shakes. And speaking of unplanned trips, the 2020 jaunt to Thailand and Cambodia is probably on again. I say probably because I have tickets, reservations, vaccinations - I’ve jumped through every hoop to get approved for entry through the Thailand Pass system (which has since been suspended for new applicants) but I think with travel cancellations and COVID variants, I’ve got about a 50 - 50 chance to get on that plane in early February. Any international travel right now will be fluid, but if it happens, I’m hoping for more of a Leo naard experience than Leonards. I’ll probably get a healthy dose of both.

Flying

     Travel is different these days. There are just so many variables, and the potential to have something else to throw a spanner in the works is always in the back of my mind when I'm on the road. Working on an Iraqi base adds a few extra twists and gyrations to the unknown unknowns. The company has their own plane that flies between Erbil and Balad, but was dependent on the Iraq government giving overflight rights to fly. Between late June and August something-th, there were 47 days those rascally Iraqis didn’t allow that flight, so everyone was stuck there. There were a few ways to get off base, and none of them were good. The easiest was a MEDEVAC flight and was usually COVID positive related that required the need to seek a higher level of medical care. I can’t go into details or outcomes on those trips, but can say that finding a COVID bed - anywhere in the world - was really difficult during that timeframe. You could also get a humanitarian flight if a close relative had died or was severely ill. Those ‘specials’ were coordinated through the US Embassy in Baghdad. And then, for some unknown reason, the Iraqis decided to lift their fatwa on overflight rights and the plane started to fly again, so I hopped on one. Going to Erbil was fairly straight forward, and I spent a few days there tooling around, visiting the Citadel and enjoying the 0400 call to prayer. Mosques always seem to be right next to the hotels frequented by the frugal. 

    I’m not a fan of having a swab stuck so far up my nose I can feel it in the back of my eye, but if you want to get on a plane to go somewhere interesting, that's what you have to do. For the record, I’ve had both the J&J jab and two doses of the Pfizer and religiously wore a mask. There was a lot of COVID on the base, both from the Iraqis that we were sending home to self isolate and the multinationals who tested positive and just had to quarantine in their quarters unless things took a turn for the worse. You can be asymptomatic and still be positive, so because I was fairly swimming in a pool of mostly unvaccinated people, it was a great relief to get that negative PCR test that allowed me to fly to Turkey. I wanted to lay over in Istanbul for one day so I could take a more leisurely trip back to the U.S. Didn’t exactly work out that way, and I’m still not sure why, but here’s what happened. 

    I showed up at the airport 3 hours early to check in. I’ve done a lot of traveling and spent more than few hours on long haul flights. I don’t have an explanation for it, but I’ve turned into kind of a nervous traveler. Maybe it’s because shit like this keeps on happening. Checking in, Turkish Airlines says there’s no record of my reservation. I’m not on the flight that I bought and paid for through United. I even made a seat selection on the Turkish Airlines website using their record locator prior to heading to the airport, but was told I didn’t exist. I was dead to them. Alan who? Last name Taylor? No, accompanied by a shake of the head from west to east. Passport number? Not there. Record Locator? Still no. Are there any seats available on this flight from Istanbul to Brussels so I can make my connecting flight? No, which seemed to be the most popular answer that morning. The original ‘oh shit’ response shifted to ‘oh well’ as I tried to figure out what to do. I’m at the airport and can’t make my connecting flight. My PCR test is good for today only and I don't want to spend a day in Istanbul trying to suss out where to get another one. Because I’m married to the Star Alliance network, I ask Turkish Airlines where else they are flying in the U.S. that day and they tell me they have a flight to Houston at 1405. It was about zero dark thirty in the morning when we were having this little chit chat. I quickly cancelled my connecting flight in Brussels, whipped out my credit card and bought a seat to Houston (where I didn’t really want to go). They let me check in about 8 hours early, so I whiled away the hours in the lounge and noshed on some Turkish delicacies. It turned out to be a 5 movie flight straight to Houston and I flew back to Huntsville the next day. 

    The reason for the flight? That’s another story. I was in Balad and got an email from a headhunter asking if I’d be interested in another position. A good friend of mine said when someone wants to make you an offer, you should always listen. So I did. I went through three rounds of interviews and got the answers to most of my questions. Job? HR Manager. Location? Kuwait. Also they need help hiring Marshallese in Kwajalein. Do you know anything about how to do that? Why yes, in fact I do. So I packed my mental bags. Gwyne was happy as well. We lived in Kuwait before and really enjoyed it. She couldn’t come and visit Iraq, but she is more than ready to hang out in Kuwait again for a while. One more question - where in Kuwait is the job physically located? It’s out at Arifjan. For those not familiar with Kuwait, Camp Arifjan is about a 40 minute drive from Fintas or Fahaheel, where most contractors typically live. I’ve done that unpleasant drive and sat through the uncomfortable security so very many times and just didn't want to do it again, so I turned it down. But those bags in my head, well, they had already been packed. A more comfortable life, planes that are actually able to fly, good medical care and Gwyne. And not necessarily in that order (good catch there, eh?) That's why I'm back in Huntsville. I'll still do some remote work, but it will be when I want. This way, I'm still keeping my status as a 4 time loser in the retirement game. It would be flat out embarrassing to be a 5 time loser.