I Broke Him

I broke my first poolee at Marine PT yesterday.  And when I say broke, I mean that I single-handedly broke the will and spirit of a poolee to the extent that he dropped from the program.

Before you create a narrative in your head that makes me sound unusually harsh, badass or sadistic, let me clarify that I didn’t go full drill instructor or anything like that, but I was probably about as close as I get with these kids.  I am fully cognizant that I am not an active duty Marine, and my job is to serve the recruiters, further the mission of the Marine Corps, and represent the Marine Corps League.  It is not my place to weed out the weak, and I have never actively tried to do so.  Here’s what happened…

We had a new kid, who kind of reminded me of the kid I called private Pyle… the kid who washed out earlier this year.  We were doing bodyweight exercises, such as push-ups, burpees, planks, etc. and we were running.

We were broken up into two teams, with me leading one team, and a young reservist Marine leading the other.  It was a contest, and I was pushing my team.  Bear in mind that I was also doing the exercises with them.  I was leading them as if I were active duty, which means ensuring they were sounding off loud and proud, and giving their all.  This kid in particular had a hard time keeping up.  At first I kept yelling for him to push harder.  When his body was physically unable to do so, I’d give him a couple of reps off, yelling that he’d continue with us when we hit the next five.  For example, he dropped on push-up twelve.  On rep 13, I told him that he would join back in at 15.

This continued for a while, until he dropped on an exercise, which we finished without him.  He was sitting on the grass, arms wrapped around his knees, head between the knees.  I asked him if he was ready to join us, in a conversational tone.  He looked up at me and his face was a snotty, tear streaked mess.  I took him to a recruiter, saying in our Marine Corps, joking-yet-seroious demeanor “I think I broke him.”  This was far enough out of the ordinary that I wanted a recruiter to step in, because again, I don’t want to overstep my boundaries.  I went back outside and continued with my team.

A short time later, the kid jumped into a vehicle with a recruiter and left.  As the kid entered the truck, he popped his head back out and hollered Thank you for the opportunity, Marine Evan.  I suspected that meant he was permanently finished, but was focused on leading my team of poolees, so I set the comment aside for a bit.  When we finished PT, I talked to the recruiter, who confirmed that the kid was indeed done, permanently, and he told me the story.

It turns out that the kid has an abusive mom, who yells at him a lot.  This means he’s really sensitive to it.  He had hoped that PT sessions could get him used to it before boot camp, but unfortunately, it triggered him and he broke.  He told the recruiter that he appreciated the opportunity, but he needed to go back on his antidepressants.  So, I did not actively seek to break anyone.  What really happened was that I stumbled across a fatal flaw and brought it to light.  From my perspective, it’s less offensive that the kid find out now, rather than breaking while in boot camp.  In that respect, I guess I did help further the mission of the Marine Corps.

A Different Breed

 
In a recent post, my friend Sunny asked if we (referring to our generation) are a different breed.  The crux of the post is a philosophical question asking if we would have cared more or been less mischievous if we had social media.  Sunny claims that she would be far more cautious, because she was concerned about what others knew about her.  Conversely, kids today do attention-grabbing stuff just for the sake of getting attention.  While her comment is not fully inaccurate, I do think it's a bit... incomplete.

I'd like to start by sharing a truism:  Every generation believes they're special and unique, and they unfailingly deride their descendants as softer and weaker, while simultaneously dismissing previous generations as out of touch for failing to understand the unique challenges of the day.  I'd like to propose the idea that two opposing philosophies can be true, and use my experience as an example.  I'm gonna go with the crazy short version, because I'm trying to make a point.

My mom's dad fought in WWII as a Marine.  He saw some serious shit!  Many, many men from that generation saw shit that nobody should have to witness, and it was considered normal.  However, after they got home, things reverted to normalcy.  That generation saw the largest economic boom in American history, and when my grandfather died, he literally had stacks of gold coins in his house.  Between that and investments, my mom and her siblings inherited a nice little nest egg.  His was the last generation where an employee could expect to work a lifetime with a single company and receive a gold watch at retirement time.  They were a different breed.

My dad grew up relatively poor.  Born in the mid-1940's, his childhood home had an outhouse... within the city limits.  But he was able to attend college at an affordable cost, and do so as the sole breadwinner for the family.  My mom was a stay-at-home mom, but this was relatively unusual for my generation.  Most of my friends had two-person incomes, but it was optional during this time.  They were a different breed.

Despite the fact that my mom stayed at home, I was for all intents and purposes a latchkey kid.  I was generally kicked out of the house in the morning and told to not come home until meal time.  I can't count how many times I'd come home because I needed to use the bathroom, but the door was locked and my mom wouldn't answer.  I'd piss in the back yard, drink from the garden hose, and continue on my merry way.  For lack of a better way to phrase it, my mom was the worst combination of neglect and helicopter parent, and because I was in a one income family, I was relatively poor.  I joined the military so I could afford college, because this was when costs had just started to skyrocket.  We were a different breed.

My kids had two working parents; they were on the very tail end of free range parenting, and at the very early end of social media.  Many of their peers were borderline neglected, finding "friendship" through social media.  They're also the first generation to experience participation trophies and where there's no such thing as failing at school.  We all know how that's turned out.  They were a different breed.

My grandkids are growing up in an age where their every move and every feeling is monitored and parsed.  Kids of today can't do anything without it being recorded, and every feeling needs counseling.  People from my generation and before are dismayed, and deride this as soft, but we need to acknowledge this isn't the kids' fault.  They are a different breed.

Now, let's wrap this back to the beginning.  Yeah, kids do attention-grabbing stuff, but this is nothing new.  I grew up in an era with the class clown.  Every boy wanted to get with the cheerleader, and we were all jealous of the adoration the team quarterback received.  We all wanted attention, and sought it in our own way.  The difference was the lack of social media.  It's not that kids have changed.  They still want to be loved and adored.  The big difference is that the stage is far larger, so it's far more difficult to stand out.  So yes, we are a different breed, but that's true of every generation.

Another Reason for Socialized Medicine

I read an article today that said roughly 25% of working people stay in their job just for the health insurance.  Not surprisingly, the rate is higher among people with lower income, and those with chronic health conditions.

This, in my opinion, is another reason to implement socialized medicine in the US.  I have had jobs that absolutely sucked, and the only reason I kept them was because I needed healthcare for my family, food, and rent, so I understand being trapped in a horrible job.  Unlinking healthcare and employment would be good for labor, because one of the shackles that keeps people tied to a $h!++y job would be released.

This, of course, is exactly why I suspect that business likes the current healthcare system.  After all, it's more difficult for me to leave an employer if my health and financial well-being are on the line as a result of being without insurance.  Another consideration is that larger businesses can use healthcare benefits as a competitive advantage to attract and retain high-quality employees.  The implication of this reality is that socialized medicine could also serve to level the playing field for smaller businesses, because the administrative cost for employee insurance tend to decrease as headcount increases.

Regardless, I still feel it's time to try something different.  We have the highest healthcare costs in the world, yet we still have millions with no insurance.  But I've beaten this drum before...

Fancy Googling

I played with AI a bit today, asking it to tell me about the author of a certain blog.  It was a pretty good synopsis.  Overall it provided reasonably accurate demographic information.  It also gave a fair assessment of the author's writing style, interests, and areas of expertise.

Bonding With the Bike

After leaving my Marines, I headed a little further south, to Robbinsville, NC, to spend some time on the wonderful twisty roads of the area.  I took Highway 129 and rode Tail of the Dragon... five times.  Once I finished with that, I headed toward Robbinsville to check in to my room.

I should have followed the signs instead of the GPS on my bike, but I didn't.  I ended up hopelessly lost.  I probably rode every mile of a nearby Cherokee reservation while trying to find my bearings.  At one point, I ended up on a rock/dirt road that led to the most difficult riding I've encountered - ever.  This was more trail than road, full of large rocks, ruts and mud puddles.  I eventually reached a point where I knew that continuing down that road would lead to disaster, but turning around was tricky in its own rite.  I have to admit, this was the most concerning moment of the entire trip.  I was in the middle of nowhere, with no phone cell service and I had no idea how far I was from the nearest help.  I was nervous that I'd drop the bike while making the 500-point U-turn on that teeny, hilly, muddy road, but I made it out.  From there, I finally found a sign, but went the wrong way...

I had planned to ride the Cherohala Skyway; it's beautiful.  I didn't want to do it exactly then, but that's where the wrong turn took me.  If I'd have turned left, I'd have been in Robbinsville in minutes. I ended up going right and following the Cherohala Skyway for its entire route... in the pouring rain... which brought a bunch of that famous Smoky Mountain fog... and road crews were doing tree trimming, so there were areas covered in crushed wood, leaves and random other debris on the road.  The water soaked through my rain gear.

I'd like to clarify that I was never scared or worried on the Skyway.  My plan was to get somewhere that had cell service and write down directions to the hotel, but something better happened.  I got into a small town and gassed up.  Another rider was there at the same time, and we chatted about our situation.  It turned out he was going back to Robbinsville as well, so I just followed him.  Once we got back, we hit a diner and swapped rider stories.  After dinner, I retired to my room and enjoyed the sleep of the dead. 

To the uninitiated, this might sound a bit harrowing.  While my brief off-road adventure gave me a moment of concern, I was not horribly worried, because my life was not in imminent danger.  From my perspective, running the tail was perfect, followed by a misadventure.  And let's face it: Misadventures make the best stories.

We Interrupt This Broadcast

I received a call from my older daughter yesterday, informing me that her husband's mistress showed up at their doorstep.  This woman has had to endure far more than her share of hardship, and more drama than any one person deserves.  I am going to refrain from further comment for the moment, and focus on supporting my daughter and grandson.

We now return you to your regularly schedule blog posts. 

My Marines

Continuing my story about my Epic Vacation... 

I arrived in Pigeon Forge on Thursday, for a reunion with a bunch of buddies from my Marine Corps unit.  The cabin we stayed at was actually in the countryside, roughly halfway between Pigeon Forge and Sevierville.  Calling the place a cabin is a bit of an understatement though.  It was three stories, with a pool table, a swimming pool, two hot tubs, and a two-lane duck pin bowling alley.  The kitchen had two stoves, two dishwashers, two refrigerators, and the dining room had two massively long tables.  It was absolutely wild!  We spent a ton of time on the deck off the main floor, consuming adult beverages and just catching up.

I hadn't seen one of the guys who showed up, Bob, in over 30 years, and as is typical with my Marines, it was like we hadn't missed a beat.  Everyone got along very well, as is always the case.  While we generally avoided the goings-on of the world, we did briefly talk politics.  Military people tend to be on the conservative end of the spectrum, so I was the odd man out in my political leanings, but we were all respectful.  For the most part, we talked about our lives and re-hashed our old war stories.  The fun part of this is that our time in service overlapped, and we were all deployed at different times, so had new audiences when we bragged about how we saved the world from communism.

We saw a mama bear and her two cubs a couple of different times while we were there.  They were close, but not dangerously so.  The first time we saw them, momma was foraging in the woods behind the cabin, and the second time, they were exploring a giant dumpster in the driveway of the house next door, which was under construction.

We went into Pigeon Forge twice.  One day we went and raced go karts, and on the second visit, we took a redneck comedy bus tour.  Both days included a visit to the Old Smoky moonshine distillery.

The meals were cooked at the cabin, and they were kind of organically planned.  We had big breakfasts of bacon and eggs, and out dinners consisted of burgers, steaks, and chicken, all cooked on the outdoor grill.  Everyone willingly pitched in to cook, serve, or clean up.

Everyone who attended this trip agreed that it was a massive success, and we are very much leaning toward the same location next year.  The fun part is that even if we double the number of people attending, we will have plenty of room to put everyone up in the cabin.

Tune in next time, when I talk about my motorcycle adventures.