Before I start, I would like to commend the people working at the Delta counter at Reagan Airport for their ability to go on break. They make Houdini look like an amateur. Good thing I arrived early. Also, if you ever approach security and there are three lines, with the middle being slightly longer than the others, take the middle line. Trust me.
Now…
It has been almost 6 weeks since my last post.
Don’t worry…everyone is ok.
Spc. and Mr. are quasi-settled in their new digs outside the capitol. There are boxes in semi-orderly stacks throughout the house and neatly folded (really!) stacks of packing paper located strategically throughout.
What follows will be a stream-of-conscience ramble that will cover the last days of Boot Camp for Spc. McFlute and the weeks that have followed. My next post will redefine the purpose and direction of this blog. I will write it when I figure out what that will be.
I left you in Mississippi. I’m sorry. What a lame place to be left hanging.
On Wednesday, June 3, I met Spc. McFlute’s parents in the Atlanta airport. For those of you who have never been to the Atlanta airport, my advice is to avoid flying American, Delta, and Air Tran. You will most likely be routed through Atlanta, even if travelling from London to Paris.
The hookup was strangely smooth. The folks were where the airline said they would be when they said they would be there. Who would have thought!
Side note: Women (and men) over 40 shouldn’t wear short skirts, and people in ships shouldn’t throw stones.
Mr. Spc. McFlute and the folks made the quick trip from Atlanta to Columbia,SC (the site of Spc. McFlute’s temporary imprisonment) and settled in to a large, partitioned, hotel room. It wasn’t time for bed, so we drove down to Fort Relaxin’ to TP Spc. McFlute’s barracks.
A word to the wise: If your wife is in Basic Training and you decide to TP her barracks don’t tell the guard (civilian guard, incidentally) at the main gate what your real reason is for going on base.
Side note: This feels like a different lifetime. Having had the Spc. around for the past number of weeks has almost made it seem like she never left.
At any rate, the decision was made to get some sleep.
The following day (Thursday, June 4, if you’re keeping track) was Family Day. This day was designed as the final test for the new soldiers. They were given limited freedoms during the day, only to have them snatched away at sunset. The McFlute family’s Family Day experience was indescribable. I’m sure you can only imagine the delicate emotional balance one must walk on a day where one will see one’s wife for the first time in over 2 months, meet several men whom one would like to maim, or at least kill, listen to and pretend to applaud speeches given by the very men and women whose incompetence has caused discomfort and suffering for said wife (who now knows how to kill you five different ways in each time zone), and keep one’s in-laws from running onto the field to meet the little girl who can now also kill them in the same number of ways in all the time zones (disclaimer: 3.5 ways are illegal in the Mountain Time Zone, unless you are married). After dealing with/suppressing all that emotion, we had a pretty good day. The day included a picnic by a lake, ice cream at the PX, a bus tour/nap, and a dinner that was supposed to be fancy but would have only passed the fancy test if you were from Oklahoma. This day ended with more misdirection from the SEIP participants. Who would have guessed…
The following day (Friday, June 5) was graduation day. The folks and myself were accompanied by a friend (and now colleague) for this august (not) occasion. Graduation was not as interesting as the Family Day presentation. Family Day began with the soldiers running towards the stands through colored smoke, guns blazing. Those who survived (we all did) were treated to speeches that made you wish you hadn’t. It turns out that it doesn’t take brains to become an officer in the military. Not that some officers aren’t smart.
There is still hope for you, though.
At any rate, graduation eventually ended and the soldiers were eventually released. We were eventually able to leave the base and dine in style at Panera Bread. After depositing our friend (who later in the story will emerge as a central character, as soon as I remember the semi-clever name I gave her) Spc, Mr., and Mom and Dad made our way north for dinner and to send the in-laws home.
In all honesty, their visit was too short. We would have loved to see more of them. It didn’t hurt that they brought cookies.
Saturday and Sunday found the McFlutes taking the long way to Washington DC. Along the way we managed to find a friend in Norfolk (if you think Spc. McFlute had it bad you should hear his story) , a massage, and a bear on the side of the road.
Find out more about the McFlute's week in the Capitol on the Army's dime next time...
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