Hey Stupid-
Here's an idea for you. Don't go in the air unless absolutely necessary. Anything in the air is a target. Remember the little story I told you about the bird:
Once upon a time there was a non-conforming sparrow, who decided not to fly south for the winter. However, soon the weather turned so cold that he reluctantly started to fly south. In a short time ice began to form on his wings, and he fell into a barn yard, and almost froze to death.
A cow passed by and crapped on the little bird. The sparrow thought this was his end. But instead, the manure warmed him and defrosted his wings.
Warm and happy, able to breathe he started to sing. Just then a large cat came by and, hearing the chirping, investigated the sound. The cat cleared away the manure, found the chirping bird and promptly ate him up.
The moral of the story:
1. Everyone who shits on you is not necessarily your enemy.
2. Everyone who gets you out of the shit is not necessarily your friend.
3. If you are warm and happy in a pile of shit - keep your mouth shut.
KAF is your little warm and "happy" pile of shit for another 4 months. No need to go flying around.
Thank you Reader X. Sage advice. Got a kick from the “Hey Stupid-“ opening.
I ran a 5k last weekend for something or another cause. I don't know which one. It doesn’t even matter; I just do it for the t-shirts and Tim Horton's donuts at the end. Yes, the Canadians have a Tim Horton's at their compound, which is conveniently located right next to ours. The donuts are delicious, though I only get them on days when I have to work the entire day and feel sorry for myself. I ran an 18.30. In my defense, my legs were really sore from spinning, I couldn’t fall asleep until after 2am the night before, the race started at 6am and I didn’t warm up or anything, and I’m getting old and slow. There’s another one this weekend for wounded Canadian Army midgets. Or something like that. Like I said: t-shirts and donuts.
Oh Canada! ... Oh My! Canada! So, I'm the clinic OIC here: officer in charge. There are only two of us officers in the clinic. Joe is a Major, so he obviously outranks me, but his duty is sort of the chief medical officer on base for the Air Force (even though Magnum is a LtCol, his duties have him off just working with the flyers). In effect, Joe has really been the OIC of the clinic. He's here in the mornings and early afternoons, when most of the "action" goes on. He also has been seen as the point of contact for leadership since he has to go to meetings with them every day. He occcasionally tells me, "Hey man, you're the OIC. I don't mean to step on our toes or anything." I tell him I appreciate his concern and then nothing really changes. All of that is absolutely fine by me. Every once and I while I order him, in the name of the clinic OIC, to get out of the clinic when his shift is over rather than hanging around, but he doesn't really listen.
Joe’s a nice guy, and we get along. He kind of reminds me of my friend, Brian Montenegro - Latino ancestry, but kind of really “white.” I don’t know, he just eats sandwiches all the time, married a white women, and likes top-40s pop music (don't worry Brian, I won't tell about the time I came home from the hospital and found a Celine Dion CD in the stereo that definitely did not belong to me). SSgt Williams, one of our techs, tells him that he’s qualified to be a school teacher because he has a notebook butt and pencil legs. He has a bit of an angry streak, though, and prefers to nip things in the bud if anyone gives him any attitude; has a little bit of “tough guy” in him.
I end up playing the peacemaker and the one to whom people come to complain or vent their frustrations. It’s not my forte, but I try to seem like I’m listening. I usually give some relatively vague feedback about how I can see some validity in every party’s concern in whatever the dispute might be, give some generic exhortation for patience to see whether things don’t work themselves out, and suggest that different people have different styles of communicating, but we all need to try and communicate better regardless. That kind of stuff. And usually the knots do unravel and things are fine again. We’re not that busy, and there are only eight of us working in the clinic, five of us who are directly involved in patient care. Things are really not all that difficult or stressful, though, and so I don't get why there's any drama in the first place.
It could be worse, though, so I guess I'll shut my mouth now about my pile of shit here.
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