I found out about Uncle Ralph last year sometime. We have his uniform and not much else. He died in 1961 on what I call the Dreyer family farm near Martin. I'm staring at the obituary; I pinned it above my desk. The Elmore Library put it up online; oddly they have not put much else up.
He was in his later 50s, worked as a mechanic and was a veteran. Dad says he drank himself to death. The obituary lists "natural causes". I suppose it would be rude to put anything else down. I wonder about this fellow. He would be my Great Uncle. He never had any kids and all the Dreyer kids (my grandpa and great uncles and aunts) are dead now. Who remembers Ralph? Me and my dad? In a way it's that old line of wanting to be remembered. In this case, I suppose I don't want to forget.
For some reason I picture Ralph in a hunting hat and a leather jacket, I don't know why, seems like a natural picture of the man. He did serve in the War, he was a welder in California, presumably in a construction and repair yard. He was in his late 30s or early 40s when he was drafted, served for a year or so and came home. I even know his unit. What I don't want to do is define a man solely by his service. There had to be more to Ralph then just that year in California. More than a trailer on the Dreyer farm.
I don't know. I may try to find out. I wish I could do more for the old boy. He deserves it.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
The Captain's Guide to Graduate School
Ahhh, Graduate school. Almost a requirement in today's hyper driven world. Looking at that near useless liberal arts degree in your hand the day after graduation can be an eye-opener. Temp jobs, retail jobs, all of these are still your fucking domain. Some will call you "college boy" with a derisive sneer on their face. Others will make fun of your lack of "real-world" skills. You will end up working at the Kohl's shoe department for about a day, lamenting the fact that, by Tyr, you are starting to sound like Al Bundy. The Temp job that was supposed to turn permanent will end, leaving you, once more, looking for work. Either over or under qualified, never "just there".
Guess what? You have qualified for one thing, though, GRADUATE SCHOOL! FUCK YEAH!
Graduate school; where education takes a turn for the obscure. If you are smart you will research schools thoroughly, ensuring that your choices to apply to are perfect fits for your interests. Or you can do it like a half ass. To do it my way take into account the following:
1. Does the school have a decent mascot? Animals are OK, Falcons and Cats are OK, they ARE predators, after all. However, schools like Duke have images of Satan himself, and Wake Forest has a FUCKING FLAMING SKULL. A skull on fire for Odin's sake. Droppy dogs suck, so do rockets. Rockets are supposed to be awesome, right? Not if they aren't tipped with Nukes.
2. Where is the school located? Downtown of a run-down, rust belt city? Do you really want to brave bums, criminals, and gangers for you paltry education? Nope. Choose something suburban. Boring? You bet. Safe? Sure, the biggest threat are asshole campus cops with a Jock/bully complex.
3. Colors: By Loki, you'll be wearing this stuff for the rest of your life, choose soomething that coordinates. Bright Gay Orange and White? What the fuck was I thinking? I wear Shit Brown and Dark Orange instead. Better? Yes. Blue and Yellow are good choices, but being color blind, I will admit, I was kind of fucked from sqaure one on this requirement.
Once you have made the all important decision to apply to certain schools now you must get your "Application materials" together. There vary according to school, of course. Standard issue ones include:
The GRE: What is the GRE? $130 Goddman dollars, that's what. As another writer states so eloquently, you have to put yourself in the shoes of a gay, 19th century English noble in order to get a handle on the "Vocab" test. If you use these words in public people will think you are some sort of Live Action Role Player, you may as well shout "Lightening Bolt!" as you throw nerf balls at them. You can go and buy a PS2 for this much money; the choice may be difficult. The PS2 will give you more enjoyment and will last longer.
Letters of Reference: That professor that you vaugely knew? Guess what, you get to con him in to writing a letter for you. Ensure that he is calling you by the correct name.
Transcipts: Schools will want undergraduate transcripts. If you go to UTK, prepare to hemorage all of your weekly paycheck to them so they can slap it into an evenlope and lose it for two weeks before sending it out.
Writing Sample: Better to just whip something up, quick, that does not suck. Stick to your field, not "Star Trek" or anime porn with hints of hentai.
Some schools will require other things as well:
The Lost Ark of the Covenant: Indy lost it, can you find it? Before Belloq gets it? Good luck. This is a requirement for higher end schools only.
A GPA over a 4.0: The school is "competetive" meaning that they want from you a GPA in the 5.0 range. Good luck. May just want to go search for the Ark.
An in-person interview: Wear something nice, like the Megadeth shirt with smaller holes. Remember, cosplaying during interviews is bad.
$$$$$$$$$: Application fee; in other words a waste of money in order to take an envelope and lose it until after the deadline.
Guess what? You have qualified for one thing, though, GRADUATE SCHOOL! FUCK YEAH!
Graduate school; where education takes a turn for the obscure. If you are smart you will research schools thoroughly, ensuring that your choices to apply to are perfect fits for your interests. Or you can do it like a half ass. To do it my way take into account the following:
1. Does the school have a decent mascot? Animals are OK, Falcons and Cats are OK, they ARE predators, after all. However, schools like Duke have images of Satan himself, and Wake Forest has a FUCKING FLAMING SKULL. A skull on fire for Odin's sake. Droppy dogs suck, so do rockets. Rockets are supposed to be awesome, right? Not if they aren't tipped with Nukes.
2. Where is the school located? Downtown of a run-down, rust belt city? Do you really want to brave bums, criminals, and gangers for you paltry education? Nope. Choose something suburban. Boring? You bet. Safe? Sure, the biggest threat are asshole campus cops with a Jock/bully complex.
3. Colors: By Loki, you'll be wearing this stuff for the rest of your life, choose soomething that coordinates. Bright Gay Orange and White? What the fuck was I thinking? I wear Shit Brown and Dark Orange instead. Better? Yes. Blue and Yellow are good choices, but being color blind, I will admit, I was kind of fucked from sqaure one on this requirement.
Once you have made the all important decision to apply to certain schools now you must get your "Application materials" together. There vary according to school, of course. Standard issue ones include:
The GRE: What is the GRE? $130 Goddman dollars, that's what. As another writer states so eloquently, you have to put yourself in the shoes of a gay, 19th century English noble in order to get a handle on the "Vocab" test. If you use these words in public people will think you are some sort of Live Action Role Player, you may as well shout "Lightening Bolt!" as you throw nerf balls at them. You can go and buy a PS2 for this much money; the choice may be difficult. The PS2 will give you more enjoyment and will last longer.
Letters of Reference: That professor that you vaugely knew? Guess what, you get to con him in to writing a letter for you. Ensure that he is calling you by the correct name.
Transcipts: Schools will want undergraduate transcripts. If you go to UTK, prepare to hemorage all of your weekly paycheck to them so they can slap it into an evenlope and lose it for two weeks before sending it out.
Writing Sample: Better to just whip something up, quick, that does not suck. Stick to your field, not "Star Trek" or anime porn with hints of hentai.
Some schools will require other things as well:
The Lost Ark of the Covenant: Indy lost it, can you find it? Before Belloq gets it? Good luck. This is a requirement for higher end schools only.
A GPA over a 4.0: The school is "competetive" meaning that they want from you a GPA in the 5.0 range. Good luck. May just want to go search for the Ark.
An in-person interview: Wear something nice, like the Megadeth shirt with smaller holes. Remember, cosplaying during interviews is bad.
$$$$$$$$$: Application fee; in other words a waste of money in order to take an envelope and lose it until after the deadline.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
2010
So yet another new year is upon us. I thought by 2001 we'd have space stations and killer A.I. Instead we have reality TV, Iphones and 2000 calorie burgers at Hardees.
That's OK. I think the future and for that matter technology, progress at a pace that is far more subtle than anybody writing for Star Trek would have predicted. Hell, we are, save for beaming up and warp drive, actually above the tech level of Star Trek. We have Ipones, Google Earth, Probes on Mars, the internet.... shit, we ARE in the future. Everybody and their brother has a computer than can get on the internet and spew out whatever theory they have on UFOs. That's pretty amazing, I think.
So we can go into 2010 confident that we have reached the future, just not in the way we intended.
That's OK. I think the future and for that matter technology, progress at a pace that is far more subtle than anybody writing for Star Trek would have predicted. Hell, we are, save for beaming up and warp drive, actually above the tech level of Star Trek. We have Ipones, Google Earth, Probes on Mars, the internet.... shit, we ARE in the future. Everybody and their brother has a computer than can get on the internet and spew out whatever theory they have on UFOs. That's pretty amazing, I think.
So we can go into 2010 confident that we have reached the future, just not in the way we intended.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Soviets
Soviet Reenacting. Why on Earth would I do that? I have been dabbling in Soviet WWII reenactment for years. I love; it's simple, fun and cheap. I can even talk in a cheesy Rooosian accent while shouting propaganda. Soviet indeed.
Soviet reenactors tend to not carry the same baggage as German reenactors do. I really don't know but I have theories. Like any good academic, I have theories.
First, the Soviets have acquired this air of pop culture kitsch about them. Here we can wear Mao hats and Che t-shirts without too many serious questions from the population at large. I translate this into the ability to walk into a Burger King after a reenactment wearing a Soviet Uniform and nobody caring. I know. I've did it.
Second, we were allied with the Soviets during the war. At the 60th Anniversary Parade in Toledo of WWII I wore a M43 Soviet Uniform alongside my friends dressed as the other allies. It looked good and nobody complained. The Soviet people made an awful lot of scarifies during the war... like it or not they were our allies, no matter how distrustful ultimately.
The Eastern Front has a sort of mystique, two armies fighting a battle of annihilation far removed from the rest of the war. It's almost, to the American or British, a entirely separate war that we only had fleeting, minimal contact with. The Soviet reenactor buys into that mystique. We are trying to understand a side o the war that involved absolute hatred and a even further lack of humanity. As reenactors we struggle to understand the ability of the average Soviet soldier to fight and die for a Government we can see as oppressive and dictatorial.
I don't know, in my British impression the culture is similar enough to not be a total stretch. As a Soviet, it is. I suppose it always will be.
Soviet reenactors tend to not carry the same baggage as German reenactors do. I really don't know but I have theories. Like any good academic, I have theories.
First, the Soviets have acquired this air of pop culture kitsch about them. Here we can wear Mao hats and Che t-shirts without too many serious questions from the population at large. I translate this into the ability to walk into a Burger King after a reenactment wearing a Soviet Uniform and nobody caring. I know. I've did it.
Second, we were allied with the Soviets during the war. At the 60th Anniversary Parade in Toledo of WWII I wore a M43 Soviet Uniform alongside my friends dressed as the other allies. It looked good and nobody complained. The Soviet people made an awful lot of scarifies during the war... like it or not they were our allies, no matter how distrustful ultimately.
The Eastern Front has a sort of mystique, two armies fighting a battle of annihilation far removed from the rest of the war. It's almost, to the American or British, a entirely separate war that we only had fleeting, minimal contact with. The Soviet reenactor buys into that mystique. We are trying to understand a side o the war that involved absolute hatred and a even further lack of humanity. As reenactors we struggle to understand the ability of the average Soviet soldier to fight and die for a Government we can see as oppressive and dictatorial.
I don't know, in my British impression the culture is similar enough to not be a total stretch. As a Soviet, it is. I suppose it always will be.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Oh, gods. It's me, in 1995. I've already posted this old id card about but I like having it saved. I was into NASCAR in 1995, hence the Miller Genuine Draft Rusty Wallace #2 cap. I was actually 17 when this photo was taken. Gods, I was a nerd. A terrible greasy nerd. Until I learned the dual tasks of washing everything daily and brushing my teeth, I was something to behold. It took a while, but I finally got my act together.
My freshman year of school was fun and it taught me and awful lot. For you potential freshmen, here's some hard earned lessons:
1. Get the fuck out of your dorm. I knew nobody until the last bit of Fall, 1995. I stayed and played video games. Games are great fun, but I had so much more fun after I started to get to know people.
2. Wash daily. You would think most people know this, for some reason I would skimp. I showered everyday day, to be sure but never cleaned good enough. Gods. How embarrassing.
3. Women, can't live with them, pass the beer nuts. I saved myself involuntarily by not bothering to meet girls. WTF? Get out of the dorm and meet chicks; it will pay off, trust me.
4. Expand your wardrobe. I am certainly not saying to go and spend money on a $100 pair of jeans. But wash your clothes once in a while. It almost does not matter what you wear, but have clean, decent fitting clothes. It will help!
5. Do not throw food out the dorm window. Me and my buddy Steve emptied his fridge of expired food by chucking it out the window. Big Mayo jars travel VERY nice and make a satisfying splat. Especially when filled with mayo yet.
6. Drink once in a while. I'm not saying turn into a drunken hobo, but a few beers with your friends will always be fun. Trying to hide those beers as you sprint towards the dumpster will also be fun.
OK, that's it. For now. I remember freshman year with an awful lot of joy. I had alot of fun. From blasting Led Zeppelin with my buddy Steve out Conklin's courtyard to making an ass of myself with the BG Gaming group, I had fun. 1995-1996.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Astronauts
After the whole Astronaut in a diaper occurance and the recent fallout today from it (fired!) I was thinking about the modern NASA Astronaut selection program. Like most things with a large, bloated bureaucracy NASA is exceedingly political. Playing the game gets you into space, not your skill. I propose a revision of this broken method of space recruitment.
First, Buzz Aldrin will be in charge, because he's awesome. Buzz will set the mood by being the first to travel to the frozen forests of Norway where he will strip to his skivvies and hunt a bear with his bare hands, hold the still-beating heart of the beast triumphantly over his head while screaming a manly roar of victory. In order to even be considered every Astronaut must do the same thing.
For an Astronaut to get promoted he will have to wrestle Buzz for the half-eaten bear heart, Only when they win do they get to command a Shuttle Mission. Until then, Buzz is in charge. Other old-time Space Explorers will be re-recuited in order to provide a base of awesomeness for the Astronaut corps. Jim Lovell, Alan Bean, Zombie Deke Slayton, Gordo Cooper, Wally Shirra, Neil Armstrong, Mike Collins, and the other men who pioneered space. Even when selected for a mission a potential cherry will have to run the gauntlet of old-timers who will beat them with large sticks. If they make it past the gauntlet, they get on the mission.
Finally the pussy ass Shuttle will be replaced with museum piece Apollo capsules and Russian tech. Cheaper? You bet! Less safe? Unfortunately. But if the old guys could do it, then the new blood should be able to as well. Maybe the Shuttle will be kept as a reward, make it past the Russian tech and a old Gemini capsule and you get your ride in a Shuttle.
First, Buzz Aldrin will be in charge, because he's awesome. Buzz will set the mood by being the first to travel to the frozen forests of Norway where he will strip to his skivvies and hunt a bear with his bare hands, hold the still-beating heart of the beast triumphantly over his head while screaming a manly roar of victory. In order to even be considered every Astronaut must do the same thing.
For an Astronaut to get promoted he will have to wrestle Buzz for the half-eaten bear heart, Only when they win do they get to command a Shuttle Mission. Until then, Buzz is in charge. Other old-time Space Explorers will be re-recuited in order to provide a base of awesomeness for the Astronaut corps. Jim Lovell, Alan Bean, Zombie Deke Slayton, Gordo Cooper, Wally Shirra, Neil Armstrong, Mike Collins, and the other men who pioneered space. Even when selected for a mission a potential cherry will have to run the gauntlet of old-timers who will beat them with large sticks. If they make it past the gauntlet, they get on the mission.
Finally the pussy ass Shuttle will be replaced with museum piece Apollo capsules and Russian tech. Cheaper? You bet! Less safe? Unfortunately. But if the old guys could do it, then the new blood should be able to as well. Maybe the Shuttle will be kept as a reward, make it past the Russian tech and a old Gemini capsule and you get your ride in a Shuttle.
Multiplayer
I found out something the other day: the computer they gave me here plays Team Fortress 2 like a dream. This is not good. TF 2 is a simply awesome game. My screen name is Idi Amin, btw. I just purchased a good set of earphones and a built in mic so I can chant Amin style as I die every 10 seconds or so.
I have always like video games, perhaps too much. From the glory days of the Atari 2600 and the NES to my trusty Xbox and the reliable PC.. games upon games. Games always advance faster than my equipment though, that can often be a big problem. That's why I like my Xbox, I never have to worry about system specs.
When I reenact I often find kids who know all about firearms from games. Even the Lee-Enfield has been making appearances as of late in some games. I suppose any history they get can be good, but sometimes I wonder if it's the right kind of history. What is the right kind of history? That's a good question. A mix of reverence, knowledge, honor I suppose.
You will have to excuse me now. There are people on Counterstrike that need annoying with Billy Mays voice.
I have always like video games, perhaps too much. From the glory days of the Atari 2600 and the NES to my trusty Xbox and the reliable PC.. games upon games. Games always advance faster than my equipment though, that can often be a big problem. That's why I like my Xbox, I never have to worry about system specs.
When I reenact I often find kids who know all about firearms from games. Even the Lee-Enfield has been making appearances as of late in some games. I suppose any history they get can be good, but sometimes I wonder if it's the right kind of history. What is the right kind of history? That's a good question. A mix of reverence, knowledge, honor I suppose.
You will have to excuse me now. There are people on Counterstrike that need annoying with Billy Mays voice.
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