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I was think'n bout... If I was a Sailor.
2 years ago
Hello fellow FA Artists, Writers, Poets, Dreamers, Crafters, Fursuiters and other highly creative people.
Good news! A friend of mine had to move into a residence that didn't allow pets, and he needed to quickly find a home for his two pet cats, "Rey" and Quin." Since I had all the food and stuff left over from Charley, I figured it would be a perfect solution to the "Womp Rat" problem I've been suffering through. So far, the cats have been very shy due to their sudden relocation, but after 6 days, they are now getting "Comfortable" with their new environs, and hopefully will soon become happy and loving pets. I now believe a bit more strongly in that old expression, "When God shuts a door, he also opens a window."
Earlier Today, which happens to be the first day of Autumn, and my Brother's birthday, I was watching that old, 1942 Warner Bros. cartoon "Conrad the sailor" and as I was washing the after-dinner dishes, I got to wondering how things would be if I had, just fresh out of high school, joined the US Navy and fulfilled my fantasies of becoming a "Fireman," and then worked my way up to being a Machinist Mate. Of course, the Navy in the late 1970s was a lot different than the Navy in the 1940s, but when the recruiters came around in my Senior year in High School and let me take a preliminary test, I failed badly because of my poor math skills. Still, since in the early 1980s when my brother joined the Navy, he showed me that the Service was a great place to learn a secondary carrier as he worked his way up from becoming a medical technician, then all the way to becoming a Corpsman which later led to his after-service career in the medical fields.
Now as time went by and I grew older, I came to understand that the Navy jobs I was looking into were hard, strenuous, tedious, dangerous and dirty, and there was a lot more to the Service other than keeping one's Uniform spotless and making sure one's locker was in order. As I watched the soap suds go down the drain, I got to wondering if I would be the same person I am now if I had joined the Navy. I'm sure I would have been smoking, drinking, cussing and carrying on like a proper serviceman, but would I have discovered my artistic talents, become a cartoonist and would I enjoy the "Furry" fandom in the way I do now? I even got to wondering if there was an alternate dimension where I could meet and chat with my "Navy Self," and Would I really like me? By the time the dishes were done, I realized I do like the way I turned out, though.
It still makes me cringe when the scene comes up in the cartoon where Daffy switches Corad's mop bucket with a can of #250 red antifouling paint, and the poor "Swab" has to deal with the mishap before that little "Admiral of the Fleet" walks by.
I blame my interests in ships and my love of the Sea on my Dad who'd take me deep sea fishing, ever since the time I was strong enough to hold up a rod and bring in a barracuda. The boats we'd charter would leave out of San Pedro or Santa Monica, and I'd see the sad, rusted, decrepit remains of the ships being salvaged in what was left of the yards built in WWII. With this Journal I salute my Brother, my friends who served or still are in the Navy, and all those who have sailed and still love the sea.
"Peace."
Good news! A friend of mine had to move into a residence that didn't allow pets, and he needed to quickly find a home for his two pet cats, "Rey" and Quin." Since I had all the food and stuff left over from Charley, I figured it would be a perfect solution to the "Womp Rat" problem I've been suffering through. So far, the cats have been very shy due to their sudden relocation, but after 6 days, they are now getting "Comfortable" with their new environs, and hopefully will soon become happy and loving pets. I now believe a bit more strongly in that old expression, "When God shuts a door, he also opens a window."
Earlier Today, which happens to be the first day of Autumn, and my Brother's birthday, I was watching that old, 1942 Warner Bros. cartoon "Conrad the sailor" and as I was washing the after-dinner dishes, I got to wondering how things would be if I had, just fresh out of high school, joined the US Navy and fulfilled my fantasies of becoming a "Fireman," and then worked my way up to being a Machinist Mate. Of course, the Navy in the late 1970s was a lot different than the Navy in the 1940s, but when the recruiters came around in my Senior year in High School and let me take a preliminary test, I failed badly because of my poor math skills. Still, since in the early 1980s when my brother joined the Navy, he showed me that the Service was a great place to learn a secondary carrier as he worked his way up from becoming a medical technician, then all the way to becoming a Corpsman which later led to his after-service career in the medical fields.
Now as time went by and I grew older, I came to understand that the Navy jobs I was looking into were hard, strenuous, tedious, dangerous and dirty, and there was a lot more to the Service other than keeping one's Uniform spotless and making sure one's locker was in order. As I watched the soap suds go down the drain, I got to wondering if I would be the same person I am now if I had joined the Navy. I'm sure I would have been smoking, drinking, cussing and carrying on like a proper serviceman, but would I have discovered my artistic talents, become a cartoonist and would I enjoy the "Furry" fandom in the way I do now? I even got to wondering if there was an alternate dimension where I could meet and chat with my "Navy Self," and Would I really like me? By the time the dishes were done, I realized I do like the way I turned out, though.
It still makes me cringe when the scene comes up in the cartoon where Daffy switches Corad's mop bucket with a can of #250 red antifouling paint, and the poor "Swab" has to deal with the mishap before that little "Admiral of the Fleet" walks by.
I blame my interests in ships and my love of the Sea on my Dad who'd take me deep sea fishing, ever since the time I was strong enough to hold up a rod and bring in a barracuda. The boats we'd charter would leave out of San Pedro or Santa Monica, and I'd see the sad, rusted, decrepit remains of the ships being salvaged in what was left of the yards built in WWII. With this Journal I salute my Brother, my friends who served or still are in the Navy, and all those who have sailed and still love the sea.
"Peace."
"Not with your poor eyesight," they laughed. That said, they reviewed her high school grades (straight 'A's -- even in the sciences) and her test scores. They offered to put her through Medical School, full ride, and graduate as a First Lieutenant. She took it, and became one of the best thoracic surgeons they ever had.
Oh, she did get a private pilot's license along the way...
I always wondered how different my life would have been if instead of moving from Aurora Illinois to Berkeley when I was five I'd grown up there. I'm sure I would have been different, but I wonder how much and in what ways I'd be different or the same.
Sometimes my dreams are so realistic I think they are bleeding over from an Alternate Universe.
One where I'm homeless, insane, about to die and need help from a saner self to get through things.
One where my father is still alive, my mother isn't, and I'm in charge of large engineering projects in the Middle East
One where both parents are alive, and are helping me refurbish the house I used to own in Florida
One where the family home wasn't sold, and torn down, and my sister and I (plus her husband and all her kids) are still living there, and Mum doesn't have dementia.
One where my father returns, having recovered from death and several amputations and wants to be in charge of things, and is also, very critical of how I've handled things.
I mean, it's just great having 'but you're dead' arguments in dreams.
Let's call them nightmares.
The one where I'm a female catgirl of varying degrees of hotness, starting at 'hot' and going to 'really hot' - yeah, that one hasn't happened yet. Had a few with succubi, tend to get into morality arguments with them - and not sexy times.
I was of draft age in the 80s. My mother told me firmly, "If someone invades the US, I expect you to be in the front lines defending your country! But I'll be DAMNED if I'm going to let you get sent overseas to die for Exxon!"
Can't fault her logic, really. ;)
I had to seriously consider what I would do. Go to jail? Canada? Mexico? See if my flat feet would get me off?
Another friend of mine is only alive because his brother was living with him when he had one and found him right away.
The Navy taught me to be an electronics tech, instructor, QA, DC coordinator and Manpower Coordinator. I traveled all over the Pacific and got two MS degrees on the Navy's dime. Got to meet a lot of peoples and eat a lot of weird stuff.
As far as being a 'furry' in the service, it didn't seem to matter, since I was working for Shanda Fantasy Arts while active duty. I made a lot of art in my spare time even before I knew 'furry' was a thing. I doodled while flying 12 hour tacticals between radioing status reports, laying in my rack aboard the Stennis, or hanging in a barracks lounge on Barber's Point NAS.
"till we will be sailors no more!" ;D
Just for you Roy. Enjoy. ;D
but a different career in life? I don't know what else I'd have done instead.
I did my basic service with german air force, repairing cars on the ground. I never got to fly, though there was a chance once to fly with the air bases' glider group, but the moment passed. that's the only point where I'm wondering, what if..?
those twelve months were an invaluable experience, but I know military isn't my thing. so there's that.
I've always had a fascination for gliders too.
the professional army has had big problems recently, stemming first and foremost from politicians pinching pennies. after Gorbatchov's taking down the soviet union people got thinkign more and more that the threat is gone, and we wouldn't need as large an army anymore. so head counts went down, machinery wasn't replaced investments into any property were postponed... then Yougoslavia happened, and then Afghanistan, Mali, and other places. and especially the green party of all politivian parties, insisted on sending troops there for peace and influence.
but nobody thought about the costs, and new material, and new soldiers... meanwhile, the army bureaucracy went through the roof, and became way too powerful for anyone's good. they cost money, block things, endanger our soldiers' lifes in foreign countries, and bicker over minor things.
and new soldiers? many, too many, quit before the first year is done, frustrated about the overal condition of an otherwise pretty good army. but buildings crumble, panzers can't be used, planes and helis won't fly... so they quit left and right.
of course, placing uneducated morons and ideologists as ministers-of-defense hasn't helped. the current one at least has served, too, and is capable, but there are so many holes to stuff.
After 9/11 the Pentagon stationed two carriers off of NYC. I still remember the grateful awe I felt when their huge gray shapes loomed out of the mist as the great ships protected and guarded the wounded city. I've been fascinated with the and ships all my life.
I enjoyed working on the fishing boat in Alaska in the summers but I also disliked it at times too. Our past just is, it's up to us to make sense of it and hopefully learn a few things along the way.
Getting to see other countries... meeting the people there... sharing the new experiences... and gaining a totally different look, from the outside in, of my country and how others (besides fellow Americans) see us through their eyes.
So much of what we see of the world... and what the world sees of us... is filtered through lenses. Government lenses... media lenses... and, now, internet lenses. It is a VAST and FAR different thing to stand on foreign soil, surrounded by people asking you, "What is America really like?" while you ask them, "What is your country really like?". The answers are SO different than what you get TOLD. It was eye opening, to say the least.
And the experience of walking the streets of Bancock, Perth, Singapore, and so many more? Yeah... it was a helluva life. I learned so much. Lived so much. Even loved a little. Would return to Australia in a heartbeat and live there easily. Loved the countryside of Thailand. It was amazing and beautiful.
I cannot imagine myself without that experience. I think I would be a lesser man.
I can't blame you and your feelings about Australia. Once you get to know the people, and they get to know you, they're quite the most boisterous, friendliest, and kindest bunch one could ever hope to meet. (New Zealanders too.)
And your remarks about us being guided and controlled by "Robots" and being forced to look at "Reality" through carefully controlled "Lenses" got me to thinking about things, especially my role as a "Court Jester" on another "Social Media" site. There are times when I can make the Court laugh, but I live for those moments when the very "King" makes ME laugh.
I don't know how you feel about "Talking Shop" concerning tending boilers, Especially the oil-fired Babcock and Wilcox triple drum boilers used in Liberty ships, but your insights and stories you care to share will be greatly appreciated.
(Respect to all those who do work at sea.)