Haze Grey & Underway

For those that know me and know how much of my soul and life I have put into this job this is going to seem strange, but lately I am finding it very hard to really even give a damn about just about anything going on out here on this floating Dante’s inferno. I generally pride myself on being a professional even under the most difficult of situations but as I said I just don’t care.

Mrs. Jaybob’s test results have come back and it is as we suspected. She is the proud owner of a debilitating disease called Multiple Sclerosis. She is being poked and prodded by doctors and being given spinal taps by students, (they only had to pierce her back 5 times before they were successful), and because of the poor job at getting that tap they had to perform a procedure called a bloodpatch to seal up the hole left in her spinal sac because there was spinal fluid leaking out.

And here I sit.

I have technicians that couldn’t troubleshoot their way out of a paper bag if they were handed the faulty component and told where it was to be installed. I have other technicians who seem to operate in a time dilation field, this is to say a task that would take a normal human being 1 hour takes this individual 3. I have benches crashing around me and Warrant Officers who change their mind and don’t tell you but expect you to know what they need. Oh.. and evals are due. ( I really think it’s funny how MS word pings on the word ‘evals’ and tries to make it ‘evils’. same same if you ask me.)

yet.. I find it increasingly hard to really even care. I sit in numbness to all this around me and could really care if it all even just caught on fire. Is that bad? I don’t know. Is it counterproductive to the mission? You betcha! Is it a purposeful act of a petty person having a fit? Definitely not. But I am not able to control how I feel. I try and wade my way through it all, to correct the errors, to right the wrongs, to hold the hands, to wipe the noses of adults who sit and cry at their desks. (This is no sh*t, a guy was seriously crying at his desk yesterday.. I can understand if it were his first cruise but this is a seasoned Sailor. He has nothing going on bad at home… he just doesn’t want to be here. I mean, I don’t know, does that make me a crappy person because it disgusts me that a grown man is sitting there crying like a little girl with a skinned knee?! *shrug* )

Now wait a moment…. I know exactly what you are going to say. “Well Jaybob you are crying too! You just aren’t shedding tears. You are whining and complaining about it and not doing anything about it.” You may have a point. But please refer to the title of this entry… it’s my damn website not yours if you don’t like it then don’t read. These are my feelings and this is my outlet for them.

Really… I just want to be home supporting the woman I love while she is going through a very tough time. I feel helpless, I feel like I am not being the provider I promised that I would be in my marriage vows, I feel like crap.

Those are my thoughts… this is where I’M going and where I’VE been.
later…
~Jaybob

Well here we are in  Jebel-Ali in the United Arab Emirates. Liberty call went down a lot smoother mainly because we pulled in pier-side so there is no waiting for a liberty boat to take us to land.

Here we have a little security zone that we affectionately call “The Sandbox”.  It is a place that has a couple of shops, some restaurants (All fast food… i.e.  Burger King, Subway, B&R, and of course the infamous Shwarma guy!)  The Sandbox is surrounded by cement guirders and tractor trailer containers creating a ’safe place’ for us to congregate in large numbers.  It is a lot better than it was when I was here in ‘93.  Back then it was nothing but sand as far as the eye could see and a couple vendors right at the end of the brow.   They even have a USO building in the box that shows first run movies and broadcasts free wifi for all your interwebs needs.   This time in port I just stayed in the box for the two days I was allowed off the ship.  I really didn’t have much desire to leave the area I just wanted to leave the ship.  It was nice to sit around in my civilian clothes eating some real food and relaxing.  For just a short time I could create the illusion that I was not on deployment and far away from everything that I hold dear.  I could enjoy some conversation and play some cards and yes even have a beer or two without wondering when the next “oh crap” moment was going to spring upon me.

One more thing about the box…   We have a beer tent where we sell American beer to our Sailors at $2 a can.  The Navy has a whole campaign dedicated to having “The right spirit” ( gone are the days of the drunken sailor this is a stereotype that the Navy is desparately trying to seperate it self from.)  Yet we trap these kids on the pier and sell them beer for $2 after being at sea for 45 days straight.  Then we make scornful faces and utter our “tsk tsk tsk” at them when they get drunk and a little crazy.

Are we helping or hurting?

Yes, myself being of the ripe old age of 35 know when to say when.  I know when I am starting to loose control and know to stop well before that time and I do.  I honestly can not remember the last time I was “plastered”.  Yet they keep selling these kids beers even when it is obvious that they are beyond their tollerance and keep taking their money to add to their associations bank accounts and that of MWR.   I know the concept of individual responsibility and do my damndest to live by it, but there are times where a little assistance is required by the senior leadership.   Are we sending the right message or are we sending mixed messages?    Just my own observations..

It was an unremarkable port visit except to say that I got to sleep in one day and it was very nice to be able to do so.   Few and far between are the simple luxuries such as just being able to roll over and go back to sleep for another hour or so when I want to.  I took advantage of it.

I would be negletful not to mention that my parents anniversary was this month.  Rare these days where a marrige lasts as long.  I am glad to say I am a product of a two parent home.  I will admit that I do not know exactly how many years they have been married but I know that it is over 40 years.  In these days and times that is one hell of an accomplishment.   Congrats  Mom & Dad..  You guys are the best… you did a good job with us kids and I thank you.

Well.. thats all for now. I need a Shwarma!

I amfortunately not Haze Grey  & Underway… I am Pier Side.

~Jaybob

Ok.. because of the large gap in time I am going to do it all in one post because honestly I can not remember some of it.  That is one of the things that stinks about being on a ship, the internet access goes way down especially when you head into the Arabian Gulf area.

Here are some highlights broken down into bite size pieces.

MS and the Military Medicine System.

So, it would appear according to the civilian doctor that Mrs. Jaybob is seeing, that she has the signs and symptoms of Multiple Sclerosis.

A chronic, typically progressive disease involving damage to the sheaths of nerve cells in the brain and spinal cord, whose symptoms may include numbness, impairment of speech and of muscular coordination, blurred vision, and severe fatigue

She went into the docs office to see about her shoulder pain two years ago and during an MRI they found evidence of it, but disinclined to inform her of it. This time she went in for another MRI of her neck and shoulder and they found the same thing and actually told her about it.  They found little white dots in her spinal cord and lower brain stem area that are indicative of MS.  She had a full head MRI done recently and we are awaiting the response from that to find out where to go from here.

I have two issues with this.   I am here.  She is there.  Now, while she is not quite alone in this situation because she has my brother and his family to talk to she is still dealing with it without her entire support system that she is used to.   I am out here, feeling helpless and worried.  I know that this is a slow disease and people live with it for years and years and years sometimes without even showing any symptoms, but that does not help me much.  This is my best friend! This is the woman who I am so crazy about I married twice! Yet  here I am floating 15,000 miles across the seas with the ability to do nothing more than make a phone call or two to make sure she is doing all right.  I am beginning to think that those phone calls are more for me than they are for her. *Shrug*  I don’t know.  So to cap this off we are going to have to wait until sometime in December to get the full results.

The Military Health Care System

Being sick in the military is in no way shape or form what it used to be.  For the non military folks out there, normally when you are sick you take your happy ass down to sick-bay or over to the branch medical clinic and go to “Sick call”.   This is basically a time in the morning lasting about 2 hours where you can just walk in and say “I threw up” or “I have this lump” or “I have a runny nose”.   It was basically a triage point for them to say “ok Mr. runny nose you take this pill and stop whining…   Mr. Lumpy  rub this ointment on it and come back in a week,   you Mr. Throw up you have a 106 degree fever you need emergent care!”

That was then… Now?   You actually have only 15 minuets to make it down to ’sick call’.  They will not even entertain seeing you during non-sickcall hours unless you are bleeding profusely from the eyes.  Being in the position of ‘Senior Leadership’ that I am in,  I have meetings and such that I am required to attend in the mornings (and wouldn’t you know it those take place during ’sick call’.)   I was running a 105 fever with night sweats, little sleep, and massive headaches but it took 3 days for them to see me and that was only due to the fact that my Chief gave them a call and told them they needed to see me.   It really annoys me to no end how some of the medical people react when someone actually requires some attention… like I just ruined their day by being sick.  Customer service is a dead concept.

Ok.. enough ranting for now.  Please take care of eachother and yourselves.

I am still . . .

Haze Grey & Underway

~Jaybob

Ok..  So it has been a bit since I have updated the site, please bare with me as it has gotten quite busy for us here and the scarce availability of the internet has slowed down my posting ability.

South Africa was far from what I would call a success, but I was able to get off the ship for about 5 hours and get a decent meal and pick up some trinkets and gifts for my loved ones back in the States.  Cape Town really was quite a modern town with all the same amenities as a regular city you would encounter in Anytown USA.   The biggest problem with the whole port is that only 1/3 of the crew were able to get off the ship to enjoy even the slightest bit of liberty.  That is bull crap if you ask me, piss poor planning on the part of the chain of command created an ‘Epic Fail’ port experience for 2/3 of of my shipmates.  Yes, they were robbed of an entire country!

The economy of South Africa was decent enough to allow us to get some pretty decent deals.  The exchange rate was about 7Rand to $1.    I was able to score a very decent meal of steak with various appetisers and a nice big beer for around $11US.  Not bad at all.

The funny thing though, is that after all the lectures, training, videos, and stern warnings on crew behavior the majority of the people out on liberty that I saw ‘misbehaving’ were senior enlisted and officer personnel. *but we are the ones to blame*.

All in all it was definately an experience.  I can plant a flag on my map at home saying I have been somewhere else that would have never been had I not joined the Navy.

One month down…

Take care of yourselves…  I remain

Haze Grey & Underway

~Jaybob

Greetings from chilly Cape Town South Africa!

I saw Cape Town...

That is the view that I have of our wonderful “Liberty Port” I believe that it is called Table Rock. We haven’t been off the ship yet and we have been here for two days so far. The sea’s are a bit too rough for us to get the liberty boats near so we are just sitting here… it is more of an anchorage stop rather than a liberty stop. Well, looking on the bright side, at least I am not spending any money, I am not getting mugged, and for sure I am not contracting some horrible disease such as Hepatitis B, Chlamydia, or HIV. See… there is really a rainbow in every single crappy cloud out there.

Just thought you guys would like to see where I am. I can see it.

Take care.. I remain
Anchored in hell
~Jaybob

Ok..  Time for a little rant because after-all a bi#@hing Sailor is a happy Sailor.

I have been doing this little job here called the Navy for over 17 years and have managed to survive upon this spinning rock hurtling through space for 35 years but the way this man’s Navy treats it’s Sailors like children is bordering upon the ridiculous.  Everyone knows that a Sailor lives for one thing while on a deployment……..  YES! LIBERTY! Time off the ship in a foreign port to explore and see all the things that he never would have seen if he would have stayed in his po-dunk little home town.  This is supposed to be the trade-off for all those days and nights of hard work, sweat, and tears while at sea yet the Navy must control everything right down to the way people can do even that.  Now I understand that this is a totally different world and definitely a different Navy than my grandfather sailed in… I understand that the global dynamic has shifted and that currently we are locked in conflict and that various countries and extremist groups would love to see American servicemen killed dead in the street, but sometimes these controls that they inflict upon us can be a bit draconian.   I consider myself a reasonably responsible adult, I know “when to say when”, and I am fairly observant of my surroundings while in unfamiliar territory…  but they foister these rules on us…  such as…

• You must have “X” amount of people in your liberty party.  (Ok.. I can understand that… safety in numbers  I will buy that for a dollar)
• You must have one person designated as your non drinking shipmate.. oh and that person has to sign a form saying that he is not going to drink under penalty of the UCMJ (ummm again.. are we not adults? Can we not make sound decisions?  We can sail the seven seas and defend America from all kinds of tyranny but can’t enjoy the simple freedom of a drink when we want it? And lets tack on your signature so we can fry you if you take a sip.)
• You have to be home by “X” time. ( I haven’t had a curfew since I was 17.)
• If one of your buddies gets in trouble and has to go “see the old man” about it, you will get charged for the same thing because you were his buddy and didn’t stop him.
• Then you will sign a contract stating you won’t get into trouble or you can not go on liberty.

OK.. STOP THE MADNESS! I understand the meaning and the intent, but the implementation is where it is lacking in the smarts department. Here is the deal, if a person has been identified as a risk on liberty then that is the time that you should start imposing most of these rules and stipulations.  Do not apply a “One shoe fits all” policy to the entire crew.  The kid that even back in the states goes out and gets plastered then drives back to the ship and gets caught… yes.. he needs to be controlled on liberty because chances are he is going to screw up again..  but to punish people who know how to conduct them selves in public is both demoralizing and wrong in my opinion.  What initiative does this give people to excel and be a good conscientious American citizen and ambassador to the world when they know that they are just going to get treated like children anyways….

I don’t know.. perhaps I am completely wrong about this…  what do you think?  leave a comment and let me know.

Till later shipmates.. Take care of yourself and your shipmates

~Jaybob

Once again I come bearing my thoughts onto the interwebs…

Crossing the Equator is an age old tradition in Sailor lore.  The ceremony is officially titled the “Crossing the line ceremony.”  Sailors commonly call it “WOG Day” which is derived from the word Pollywog.  The gist of it all is that a Sailor is not worth his salt if he has not crossed the equator, once he crosses he is considered a true Sailor.  So, to lay it all out, if you have not crossed you are considered a slimy disgusting pollywog and if you have you are known to all as a Honorable and Trusty Shellback.

Shell Back

The process is started at 0500 in the morning waking our slimy pollywogs up out of their racks and having them don the traditional uniform for “Wog Day”.  It basically consists of wearing your uniform all inside out and backwards. (Silly.. I know) The pollywogs decorate their t-shirts with witty sayings and pictures proclaiming their slimy-ness and to identify them as the scum that they are while the Shellbacks dress in more casual gear consisting of shirts with spray painted skulls and crossbones and pirate hats etc etc.  After the wogs dress up, we start treating them like the scum they are.

The meaning behind all this? It is the typical military process of breaking a person down and then create unity through a common shared difficult experience, this has been known and proven to build camaraderie and esprit de corps among people.

After parading them around the berthing area’s for a couple hours we drag them down to the hanger bay and make them do exercises to weaken their bodies and spirits.  When we are finally called by the 1MC (The ships announcement system) we move them into hanger bay 3 so that they can ride the aircraft elevator up to the flight deck where they will face more shenanigans before they come before his Royal Majesty King Neptune.  The first trial is that of “The Shoot”, this is a tunnel that is filled with slime, and food items such as cut up vegetables, oatmeal, hot dogs, corn flakes, pudding, and other assorted nastiness.  This is to simulate the sliminess of the wog and make them dirty, then they move on to the Royal Dentist and Royal Barber who once again spray them with water and pretend to cut their hair.  The final stop is through the rinsing waters of truth at which point the individual becomes a Shell back because they have been cleansed of their slime and have transformed into Honorable Shellbacks.

It is an interesting ceremony steeped in history and tradition that has been greatly watered down by today’s politically correct Navy and commanders who are worried about being fired if the wrong thing gets posted on the ‘net or in pictures.

Enough history… ’till next time.

I remain…

Haze Grey  & Underway

~Jaybob

Hello folks..  Your intrepid Sailor here reporting to you from somewhere off the coast of northern Africa.  Internet access has been kind of sketchy lately so I haven’t been able to post, but not a lot has happened so you really didn’t miss much.

Leaving on an extended deployment tends to make the mind wander.  “How will things at home change while I am gone?”, “How will the country change while we are gone?”, “How will world events unfold while we are gone?”, and more often “How will I change during this time?”.  Now, I am no stranger to deployments because this is my 6th one but every one brings to the table some unique issues.  Each of my deployments has been at a different stage in my career, so it has been interesting to see how shipboard life differs as you progress up the chain of command.  Life is definitely a little more comfortable when you hit the upper enlisted ranks such as E-6 and E-7 but I would not say in any way easier.  Sure when you are a young buck airman you are tasked with working parties to bring on stores or handle lines or general other grunt work.

A side note here:  It has become natural to me to use some of the lingo and turns-of-phrase that we do here in the Navy, but when you look at some of them from the civilian side they sometimes seem a bit silly..   Take  “Working party” for instance… it is work, but usually it is NOT a party, there is no festive atmosphere nor silly hats to wear.  It seems a bit misleading if you ask me… but I digress.

As you make your way up the ranks there are not as many of those menial back breaking tasks but more administrative nightmares to contend with.  Basically you become a baby sitter making sure that all the little worker bees in your hive are doing what they are supposed to do when they are supposed to do it.  This final cruise for me has become a challenge because being an E-6 in my division seems to make you a target for ridicule and harassment by the upper chain of command.  They call it “training” but I call it crap.   *shrug* But what can you do except try an laugh it off and persevere to the next challenge.

Many of us fear change,  it is a natural human instinct to like things to be comfortable and ‘the same as always’ but invariably after these deployments a great deal has changed, both in the big ole world and in the small microcosm of our own lives.   I fear of the changes that may happen in my own world when I get home.  Will I be able to sell my house in this economic downturn?  Will I be able to execute my plan at retirement time and move far away from the Navy and go to middle America to settle down to a nice domestic life?  Will the jobs that I have been scouting out still be there?  The fact that we are out in the middle of the ocean with very little ‘hands on’ contact with our world seems to exacerbate the uncertainty and worry.  That is where having a strong spouse comes into play.  THANKFULLY I have been blessed with one of those rare women who can take up the slack and fill that void when I leave for long periods of time. Knowing that I have her there taking care of things, making sure the bills get paid, making sure our ‘kids’ are safe and just generally being a rock when I am full of worry really makes it a bit easier being out here…  So to her.. my beautiful wife I say “Thank you my love.” Thank you for being there for me, thank you for keeping the faith, and thank you for believing in me and understanding my passion for the job.  On that same note.. I say that to my beautiful daughter as well.  It took her a long time to understand why daddy had to go away for a long time, or why daddy had to move around all the time, but now that she is 15 (Oh my god I feel old!) she understands a lot better. I love you all… without you guys I would fail.

Ok…  now that the ‘love-a-thon’ is done..  I will sign off until next time………

Take care of yourselves and your shipmates,

I remain Haze Grey & Underway

~Jaybob

Hey, Shipwreck::A Machinima Series by Tube Daze Animation Studios.

Hey.. Check out this website and some of the episodes of “Hey, Shipwreck”. There is a LOT of good Navy humor here. The series is done by an ET1(SS) bubble head (sub mariner). It is quite funny… funny because it is true.

Later…
Haze Grey & Underway

~Jaybob

“Loaded up and truckin’

We gonna do what they say can’t be done.

We got a long way to go and a short time to get there,

I’m east bound just watch that Bandit CARRIER run…”

 Seems that I have been a bit musical lately with my post titles but they do say that music is the soundtrack of our lives.

 As my oh-so-clever title insinuates, we are indeed headed eastbound and down.  Progress is good in my opinion, the more we move, the faster time goes by.  So… on to today’s ramblings.

 Time out generation

When the hell did I become “the old guy”?!?  When did my view point radically veer off what I thought was the standard ‘norm’? When the hell did I become “out of touch”??  

Becoming older in an institution such as the military is a lot different than say in an office workplace.  The military is swimming with 18-25 year old kids.. literally drowning in them. They come in they do their time and they get out leaving a hole for the next 18 year old.  The older guys like myself who decided that this was not such a bad life become the senior leadership who have to shepherd these kids around and help them succeed.

 But here’s the thing, 90% of these kids, *pause for dramatic effect*    Well…  honestly,  I just want to smack the ever living crap out of them.  The military is about structure and discipline.  The military is about following rules and looking out for your brothers-in-arms. But that is not how these kids see it.  I have dubbed these young Sailors “The Time Out Generation”.  These are people who were not, for lack of a better phrase,  beat properly when they were children.  Now before you start writing your angry emails about child abuse and what-not,  I do not encourage the savage beating of children, but I DO support corporal punishment.   A swift kick in the butt can be quite effective when properly applied.   These kids suffered no consequences for their actions except to be sent to their rooms “to think about what they did”.  (Instead they played Nintendo , Playstation, checked email, texted their friends…etc.etc.etc)   

 So, these young Sailors come into my Navy not knowing the meaning of respect, not only for others but for themselves.  When I was a young airman apprentice (E-2) I looked around my workcenter and never even saw my 1^st class Petty Officer (Nor did I want to!!) The 2^ndClasses were all in charge and they were to be feared! I didn’t even think of smarting off to them, they were not my friends, they were not my buddies, they were definitely not my peers.  Where did this paradigm shift come into play? Today they think that it is ok to just come up and call you by your last name ( no rank, no respect ) and coke and joke with you like you were drinking buddies.  I myself correct that type of behavior instantly but I get strange looks like they see nothing wrong with it.  Is it because I was raised to call my mother and father “Sir andMa’am” ? I don’t know.  They also tend to think that orders are requests, and then when they do not do what they are told they are surprised when there are consequences and repercussions.  I took the time to sit down with one of my young Sailors and discuss this.  His opinion was that I was “out of touch, and expected too much” from my people.   That I should expect a person to clean up after them self or to god forbid make their rack every morning is too much?  To them it is all about “ME” it seems.  For example,  I placed our lounge off limits because they were not taking care of the space and leaving it trashed every night.  One Sailors reaction was to just break into the lounge and use it because ” I wasn’t the one who did it, why punish me? So I can go against what you said anddo what I want” .  I just can not even fathom that kind of attitude or response.

 I guess it is just time for this “old guy” to move on, and get out of the way.

 I would be remiss if I did not mention that today is September 11th.  A day that forever changed this country and our military in many ways.  Take a moment today to remember those that were lost in that horrific attack, and then also remember those brothers and sisters of mine whom have been lost in the events since then.  If you see a serviceman or woman, you don’t need to do much… just say “Thank you.”  They know what you mean.

I AM … Haze Grey & Underway.

Take care of yourselves and your shipmates

~Jaybob