"Hurry up and wait," indeed. After delighting in the news that our flight had been moved from 7 AM to 12:30 PM, I made my leisurely way down to breakfast at 8:30, only to discover that the flight had been moved again. This is apparently extremely common on the tour, and I'm lucky that I get to cool my heels in a hotel room with wireless Internet instead of sitting in a hangar on a base in Kuwait, but seeing as I'm already up and I've already had coffee, I'm ready to get rolling as soon as possible. I did get to have breakfast with some of the other guys on the tour, including most of the country guitarists and bands.
But, yeah. Still on American soil.
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Monday, December 11, 2006
Military discipline
Nothing like spending the day on an airplane, only to find that nothing of significance has happened in the world while you were incommunicado.
So, I'm in Washington, or Pentagon City, VA, to be more exact. The Army has kindly put us up at the Ritz here, so I'm enjoying my usual moment of dissonance wherein I place my one tiny little bag (they took my "gay" yellow suitcase [thanks, commenter] and "palletized" it, which means loaded it onto the cargo jet) in the corner, sit in the desk chair in my luxuriously appointed room, and marvel at how strange business travel is.
First, though, I got a taste of military life. I was relieved to discover that I didn't screw up any of the first steps -- my bag made it under 50 pounds, it arrived promptly at baggage claim, I found the driver just fine. Dick, the gentleman driving me, filled me in on all sorts of facts and figures about our first destination, Fort Myer here in Virginia. I was only on the base for maybe half an hour total -- once we got through security, I found Al sitting on a sidewalk telling someone he'd lost his phone charger, which made me feel instantly at home, and then it was WHOOSH into the Army band rehearsal hall. I dropped off my luggage, shook some hands, was fitted for a flak jacket (which is maybe the heaviest thing I've ever put around my neck), received some Army/USO swag, and then WHOOSH I was out the door and on the van to the hotel with Al and the Cowboys cheerleaders.
More later. Now I go to plug in various electronic equipment and steal toiletries.
So, I'm in Washington, or Pentagon City, VA, to be more exact. The Army has kindly put us up at the Ritz here, so I'm enjoying my usual moment of dissonance wherein I place my one tiny little bag (they took my "gay" yellow suitcase [thanks, commenter] and "palletized" it, which means loaded it onto the cargo jet) in the corner, sit in the desk chair in my luxuriously appointed room, and marvel at how strange business travel is.
First, though, I got a taste of military life. I was relieved to discover that I didn't screw up any of the first steps -- my bag made it under 50 pounds, it arrived promptly at baggage claim, I found the driver just fine. Dick, the gentleman driving me, filled me in on all sorts of facts and figures about our first destination, Fort Myer here in Virginia. I was only on the base for maybe half an hour total -- once we got through security, I found Al sitting on a sidewalk telling someone he'd lost his phone charger, which made me feel instantly at home, and then it was WHOOSH into the Army band rehearsal hall. I dropped off my luggage, shook some hands, was fitted for a flak jacket (which is maybe the heaviest thing I've ever put around my neck), received some Army/USO swag, and then WHOOSH I was out the door and on the van to the hotel with Al and the Cowboys cheerleaders.
More later. Now I go to plug in various electronic equipment and steal toiletries.
Off topic
Just because I happen to be up late making iTunes playlists, here are...
Andy's 10 "Favorite" Albums of 2006 (and by "favorite," I mean "the ones I was most excited, surprised, or impressed by," not necessarily "the best")
10. Knives Don't Have Your Back -- Emily Haines and the Soft Skeleton
9. Broom -- Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin
8. Audition -- P.O.S.
7. Garden Ruin -- Calexico
6. The Eraser -- Thom Yorke
5. A Hundred Miles Off -- The Walkmen
4. The Loon -- Tapes 'n Tapes [was this really released in 2006?]
3. January EP -- Bishop Allen [really, this refers to January through May -- they released an EP every month]
2. Gulag Orkestar -- Beirut
1. (Album of the Year) Return to Cookie Mountain -- TV on the Radio
Andy's 10 "Favorite" Albums of 2006 (and by "favorite," I mean "the ones I was most excited, surprised, or impressed by," not necessarily "the best")
10. Knives Don't Have Your Back -- Emily Haines and the Soft Skeleton
9. Broom -- Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin
8. Audition -- P.O.S.
7. Garden Ruin -- Calexico
6. The Eraser -- Thom Yorke
5. A Hundred Miles Off -- The Walkmen
4. The Loon -- Tapes 'n Tapes [was this really released in 2006?]
3. January EP -- Bishop Allen [really, this refers to January through May -- they released an EP every month]
2. Gulag Orkestar -- Beirut
1. (Album of the Year) Return to Cookie Mountain -- TV on the Radio
Sunday, December 10, 2006
Note to self
Don't sleep through both "bon voyage" calls from parents.
Oh, and note to everyone else: Stop using the phrases "one last time" and "before you're gone."
Oh, and note to everyone else: Stop using the phrases "one last time" and "before you're gone."
Saturday, December 09, 2006
"Hey, Mom?"
I'm trying my best to get into the habit of putting everything that comes into my mind about this trip onto this blog, especially now that I'm starting to tell people I'm keeping it.
One thing people always ask is, Are your parents freaking out?
Answer: Probably. As I mentioned the other day, this is not the same thing as going to war. I am 100% free of worry that something is going to happen to me. But, at the same time, I can understand why my folks, who of course were primarily happy that I was going to get to go on an adventure, and other well-wishers would be a little queasy.
This hasn't stopped Al from exercising his impulse towards macabre humor. He's been writing thank-you letters for the PAC, and he's been signing them with some variation of See you in the New Year -- IF I make it back! People generally find this less funny than we do.
But, seriously, this is not Andy Goes To War.
The reason we're pretty safe is that we're mostly spending our time on the bases. We do travel from place to place on helicopters, which is probably going to be the nerve-wracking part. Those suckers move fast, and it's not just for purposes of getting to our destination as quickly as possible.
The challenge for me is going to be figuring out exactly what I'm supposed to do. I'm sure Al and I will work on writing the show on the way over, and I'm sure I'll have a backstage role in the show itself. But it seems like the biggest thing I can do is just to have a conversation with soldiers that isn't about death and war and chaos. I can talk football. I can eat breakfast with some guys. I have a story to tell that isn't the same one they've been hearing from their bunkmates forever. Oddly, that's where I think I'm most useful here.
Unless, of course, Darryl Worley's drummer gets sick.
One thing people always ask is, Are your parents freaking out?
Answer: Probably. As I mentioned the other day, this is not the same thing as going to war. I am 100% free of worry that something is going to happen to me. But, at the same time, I can understand why my folks, who of course were primarily happy that I was going to get to go on an adventure, and other well-wishers would be a little queasy.
This hasn't stopped Al from exercising his impulse towards macabre humor. He's been writing thank-you letters for the PAC, and he's been signing them with some variation of See you in the New Year -- IF I make it back! People generally find this less funny than we do.
But, seriously, this is not Andy Goes To War.
The reason we're pretty safe is that we're mostly spending our time on the bases. We do travel from place to place on helicopters, which is probably going to be the nerve-wracking part. Those suckers move fast, and it's not just for purposes of getting to our destination as quickly as possible.
The challenge for me is going to be figuring out exactly what I'm supposed to do. I'm sure Al and I will work on writing the show on the way over, and I'm sure I'll have a backstage role in the show itself. But it seems like the biggest thing I can do is just to have a conversation with soldiers that isn't about death and war and chaos. I can talk football. I can eat breakfast with some guys. I have a story to tell that isn't the same one they've been hearing from their bunkmates forever. Oddly, that's where I think I'm most useful here.
Unless, of course, Darryl Worley's drummer gets sick.
Friday, December 08, 2006
Goodbye, Simon
I'm not going to comment on what kind of omen it is that someone swiped my iPod the week before a 17-hour flight. But now I have a new iPod.
It's been a great week for commerce. The directions I got from the USO weren't real specific -- no need to go buy Army gear or desert-proof my boxer shorts or, um, get any particular vaccinations.
But if you know me, you know I love an excuse to better equip myself for 21st-century living.
Meet my new camera:
My new suitcase:
Also: boots, a variety of very plain layering-suitable clothing (apparently, a lot of what I own contains "heavy metal saying and logos"), DVDs ranging from the complete West Wing to the complete first season of Robot Chicken, a copy of "All the King's Men" (I can't believe I haven't read this), and, my new babies...
...noise-isolating earphones.
And, sigh, a new iPod.
It's been a great week for commerce. The directions I got from the USO weren't real specific -- no need to go buy Army gear or desert-proof my boxer shorts or, um, get any particular vaccinations.
But if you know me, you know I love an excuse to better equip myself for 21st-century living.
Meet my new camera:
My new suitcase:
Also: boots, a variety of very plain layering-suitable clothing (apparently, a lot of what I own contains "heavy metal saying and logos"), DVDs ranging from the complete West Wing to the complete first season of Robot Chicken, a copy of "All the King's Men" (I can't believe I haven't read this), and, my new babies...
...noise-isolating earphones.
And, sigh, a new iPod.
Sunday, December 03, 2006
What I'm doing on my Christmas vacation
Nothing -- NOTHING -- is more fun than casually telling people, "Yeah, I'm going to Iraq next week." With most people, especially those who don't really know what I do for a living, you can see their wheels immediately start spinning: He's definitely not in the military, right? I mean, they still make you do pull-ups before they let you join the military, don't they? Is he engaging in some sort of freelance journalism? Is he just going for fun? Is he making this up?
Of course, what I'm actually doing is joining my boss on a USO tour. USO tours are run by the Sergeant Major of the Army -- this is a legit Pentagon thing, and the itinerary was e-mailed to me from a .mil address -- but it's about as far from "going to war" as you can get. We -- and by "we" I mean some country musicians, some Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders, a group calling itself Souljahz (a musical group consisting of three siblings from California), and Leanne Tweeden (at right -- note: in the future, this blog will be far less pulchritude-centric).
My name is Barr. My boss's name is Franken. He's a comedian, as you probably know, and a liberal, as you probably know, but for him, and therefore for me, the tour is about the comedian thing and not about the politics thing. He's sort of the MC, the Bob Hope character. Lots of jokey jokes, lots of mild sexual innuendo, lots of opportunities for huge laughs, woofs, and cheers. My job is to help write the jokes, basically, and to talk with the troops, to have conversations that aren't about death and danger. And, in a pinch, I can fill in on drums for the country musicians.
The country guys tend to be, as Al puts it affectionately, "right-wing rednecks," and most of their songs are vaguely jingoistic.
To wit:
That's Darryl Worley, Al's best buddy on the tour. I have been assured that I am going to LOVE these guys, and I don't doubt it for a second.
But while Al always lets the question roll off his back -- he says he's never gotten any crap from the troops for being a liberal who's, uh, questioned the President's leadership in Iraq -- I'm still not real sure how to settle my own mixed feelings about the war, and when people ask what I'm thinking about this little adventure, I'm not sure what to say.
I have friends who are in the armed services, although probably fewer than most Americans my age, and every time I think about this war, I think about them first. It's hard to balance my almost physical urge to do something to make their lives a little happier with the growing suspicion that the best thing I could do for them is to tell everyone I can that their mission is a mistake. Either way, part of me is a little bit in awe of their sacrifice, one I'm not sure I could make, and a little bit ashamed of my inability to match it.
So, that's #1: guilt. The guilt of the guy who gets to leave after a couple weeks, who gets to go home to Minneapolis on a military jet that many of these guys my age over there probably see in their dreams, heading back to Wichita and Pensacola and Glendale.
#2, I imagine, will be pride. There's a reason Al has a hard time talking about the troops he meets without bursting into tears. Anyone who doesn't understand the positive impact our military has on so many young men and women just doesn't know anyone who's been in the military.
(#9999, by the way, will be fear. They take pretty good care of us over there -- we travel with high brass, we stay on bases, we travel by helicopter and not by Humvee. The last thing anybody wants is for Al Franken to get blown up in Iraq. Well, okay, the last thing anybody wants is for the cheerleaders to get blown up. But we all travel together. Please, DO NOT worry about me. Remember, I get to leave.)
But, anyway, I don't want to say too much about the war itself. That's not what this is about. I'd like for this blog to be about the experience. What's the food like on a military base (rumor has it you can get the world's best Indian food over there, since all the cooks are Nepalese)? What kind of people will I get to hang out with? Will I learn to use my new digital camera (my next post will be about the various forms of commerce I have engaged in in preparation for the trip)?
I just felt like I should sort of try to get it out of the way: I am a liberal who doesn't think this war was a very good idea, and who would just as soon we start thinking about ways to get out with as little damage done to the world as possible. But I love what the troops stand for in a way that goes beyond that which my liberal guilt demands. I'm privileged to be able to do anything I can to make their days a little brighter while I'm there.
And, yes, I will bring you back something.
UPDATE: Since I'm just learning how to embed YouTube clips, here's MY favorite patriotic song:
Of course, what I'm actually doing is joining my boss on a USO tour. USO tours are run by the Sergeant Major of the Army -- this is a legit Pentagon thing, and the itinerary was e-mailed to me from a .mil address -- but it's about as far from "going to war" as you can get. We -- and by "we" I mean some country musicians, some Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders, a group calling itself Souljahz (a musical group consisting of three siblings from California), and Leanne Tweeden (at right -- note: in the future, this blog will be far less pulchritude-centric).
My name is Barr. My boss's name is Franken. He's a comedian, as you probably know, and a liberal, as you probably know, but for him, and therefore for me, the tour is about the comedian thing and not about the politics thing. He's sort of the MC, the Bob Hope character. Lots of jokey jokes, lots of mild sexual innuendo, lots of opportunities for huge laughs, woofs, and cheers. My job is to help write the jokes, basically, and to talk with the troops, to have conversations that aren't about death and danger. And, in a pinch, I can fill in on drums for the country musicians.
The country guys tend to be, as Al puts it affectionately, "right-wing rednecks," and most of their songs are vaguely jingoistic.
To wit:
That's Darryl Worley, Al's best buddy on the tour. I have been assured that I am going to LOVE these guys, and I don't doubt it for a second.
But while Al always lets the question roll off his back -- he says he's never gotten any crap from the troops for being a liberal who's, uh, questioned the President's leadership in Iraq -- I'm still not real sure how to settle my own mixed feelings about the war, and when people ask what I'm thinking about this little adventure, I'm not sure what to say.
I have friends who are in the armed services, although probably fewer than most Americans my age, and every time I think about this war, I think about them first. It's hard to balance my almost physical urge to do something to make their lives a little happier with the growing suspicion that the best thing I could do for them is to tell everyone I can that their mission is a mistake. Either way, part of me is a little bit in awe of their sacrifice, one I'm not sure I could make, and a little bit ashamed of my inability to match it.
So, that's #1: guilt. The guilt of the guy who gets to leave after a couple weeks, who gets to go home to Minneapolis on a military jet that many of these guys my age over there probably see in their dreams, heading back to Wichita and Pensacola and Glendale.
#2, I imagine, will be pride. There's a reason Al has a hard time talking about the troops he meets without bursting into tears. Anyone who doesn't understand the positive impact our military has on so many young men and women just doesn't know anyone who's been in the military.
(#9999, by the way, will be fear. They take pretty good care of us over there -- we travel with high brass, we stay on bases, we travel by helicopter and not by Humvee. The last thing anybody wants is for Al Franken to get blown up in Iraq. Well, okay, the last thing anybody wants is for the cheerleaders to get blown up. But we all travel together. Please, DO NOT worry about me. Remember, I get to leave.)
But, anyway, I don't want to say too much about the war itself. That's not what this is about. I'd like for this blog to be about the experience. What's the food like on a military base (rumor has it you can get the world's best Indian food over there, since all the cooks are Nepalese)? What kind of people will I get to hang out with? Will I learn to use my new digital camera (my next post will be about the various forms of commerce I have engaged in in preparation for the trip)?
I just felt like I should sort of try to get it out of the way: I am a liberal who doesn't think this war was a very good idea, and who would just as soon we start thinking about ways to get out with as little damage done to the world as possible. But I love what the troops stand for in a way that goes beyond that which my liberal guilt demands. I'm privileged to be able to do anything I can to make their days a little brighter while I'm there.
And, yes, I will bring you back something.
UPDATE: Since I'm just learning how to embed YouTube clips, here's MY favorite patriotic song:
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