Scott's Case Files

Scott Ink

I haven't had a good storytime in a long while, so I figured now was as good a time as any.

This one is about getting my tattoo - a tiger's head on my upper left arm.  But before that story, a little preface.  I was putting it past the Guys (the Guys Weekend guys as well as my Navy buddies) about how I was thinking of getting a new tattoo and wanted them there while I had it done.  In retrospect, I can imagine all of them cringing inwardly thinking about sitting around for two or so hours of our valuable hanging time watching me experience pain.  Definitely better things to do and in retrospect I totally agree.

The story that follows is why I brought it up in the first place.  I don't remember the day before getting inked or the day after.  I don't remember much of anything at all about the Christmas that followed.  But what I do have are vivid memories of that day that will never go away.  To have my friends as the center of such a memory is something that everybody should have of their friends.

So where was I?  Ah, my tattoo.

I was a young lad of 19 and I was just finishing up language school in Monterey, California.  Mandarin Chinese had almost killed me, but I was coming out of the class victorious.  I decided that over my relatively small amount of time in the military that I'd changed as a person.  In high school I was easily in the top five geeks/nerds of my class.  I was quiet and introverted and pretty unsure of myself.  Fast forward to boot camp which brought me out of my shell by its very nature, then to language school where I was challenged with a task that not just anyone could complete.  And I was beating it.  My ink was going to be my sign to the world that I was something different than I started out as...

Moon Knight

Ever since I can remember I was a fan of comic books.  My Mother had been a big fan of the Silver Age Superman and one of the first bedtime stories that I can remember her telling me was how Superboy and Lex Luthor met, became best friends, then worst enemies (not quite Smallville, by the way).  My uncle was a big fan of Green Lantern, a hero which remains one of my favorites to this day.  When I was in the hospital as a kid with my broken arm, my Dad brought me Captain America.

Then, as I got older and had allowance to spend I began buying my own comics.  I would go to the local swap-meet to the comic dealer and spend all of my ill-gotten gain.  One hero that I discovered on my own was Moon Knight.  He is kind of the Marvel Universe's answer to Batman, but with a supernatural twist and some other goodies thrown in.

Well, it sounds like Moon Knight is someday relatively soon going to have his own television show!  I got a little joy-gasm when I discovered that.  How cool is that?  Now if the day comes when Green Lantern (Hal Jordan) gets his own movie or show, my life will be complete!

Electra Woman & Dyna Girl!

Any boy who grew up in the '70s has at least one thing that they wouldn't want to forget about that decade - the glamorous, beautiful, and dynamic Electra Woman & Dyna Girl.  Come on, guys, you know we all wanted to grow up to date (etc) either of those babes.  Admit it.  Come clean.

Okay, so they were an even cheaper version of the late '60s TV of Batman and Robin but these were chicks.  Hot chicks.  Chicks with technological devices.  Chicks wearing tight spandex and proud of it.

Just a little reminiscing for you 30-something guys out there.  Check out the opening sequence that I've embedded below!  (And check out the fro on that supervillain!)

Let's Say Thanks

I happened upon the Let's Say Thanks website the other day.  It's an initiative by Xerox to send thank you letters to troops, of all services, deployed overseas.  It's set up so that you can choose your design, message, type in your name (however much) and home town, then submit it.  It's the best thirty seconds that you'll spend today, I guarantee.

Back in the days of snail mail only when I was in the Navy, I received a letter with an accompanying crayon-colored picture from a grade school kid around Christmas time one year and it meant alot to me.  It was from some program that the schools ran back then, getting such letters out to the troops around the holidays.  I never did send a letter back to that kid (and regret not doing so) but that letter and picture were up on the fridge in my barracks room until the next Christmas.  It meant alot to know that someone out there (in addition to my family) wanted to reach out to a serviceperson and with them Merry Christmas (way before the PC "Happy Holidays").

Now the Let's Say Thanks program doesn't allow you to pop in any personal info for the troops to contact you (beyond name and hometown) and aren't there for correspondence, but it's enough that some troop overseas knows that someone gives a damn and appreciates the job that they're doing and the sacrifices that they make that come with just being in the military.

Support your troops.  You'll never know it, but your small contribution of time may just make a big difference in someone's life.

Of Fireflies & Candleglow

Friday night I stood outside in front of my place and saw the first fireflies that I've seen this summer.  Beautiful things, fireflies.  Many years have passed now, but every time that I see them I'm reminded of one of the two loves of my life.

I took her out one night and gave her the gift of fireflies.  She was a desert girl and, though she had written poetry about fireflies, had never seen one.  We were at the park and I rustled the bushes, bringing pinpoints of light to life from the darkness for her.

In return, she wrote me a poem.  A beautiful poem about us and what we had.

Sadly, I only remember parts of that poem today.

The years have passed since we parted ways.  The wounds have healed over and life has gone on for both of us - both in positive directions.  I keep in touch with her today, here and there, and since that time we've both had other loves.

To the end of my days, though, whenever I see fireflies I will be reminded of her and the good memories.  If you should ever notice my smile at seeing them, now you know why.

Chinese Take-Out - Ghost of Summers Past

I decided to hit the Chinese place down the street for lunch and got it to go with a Sprite.  Ah, the memories those two things bring back...

**Insert the wavy vision with the blinking lights that signifies a flashback here**

I was sixteen, it was the start of summertime, and I had just been fired from my job working as a stock-guy at a supermarket.  I had copied the schedule of the guy under me in the chart on accident and missed a shift, so since I was in my probationary period when I did show up for the shift that I thought was mine, they informed me of my termination.  I was crushed...but not too crushed.  The job sucked rocks.  I have not since given any stock-people at the supermarket any flack, sympathizing with their situations.

So I went around and found myself another job - the first that I could get my hands on - this one at a local Chinese-American take-out place...

A Little Boot Camp III

And now, a continuation of the story which was my boot camp saga...

A Little Bootcamp II

I figured I'd go into a little more of my boot camp time.  This will be a long one, as most of my Storytime! entries are.  Boot was arguably the worst two months of my life - I was miserable through the whole experience.  I've never understood those people who enjoyed it.  My only assumption is that those people had such horrible normal lives that boot camp was shiny and happy in comparison.

I went to Club Diego - more officially known as Recruit Training Center (RTC) San Diego, though recruit training no longer goes on there in the present day.  I went in July, just over a month after graduating high school.  It was a hot summer that year, which only added to the joy (note the sarcasm) of the experience as a whole.

A Little Boot Camp

It occurs to me that I haven't had storytime in a while, so I figured another such post was past due.  Thinking about what to tell generally brings me back to my Navy days and I really haven't told much about boot camp...and the utter horror that it was for me.

Check out the continuation for the tale of how little my life up to that point had prepared me for boot camp.  There were some new things that I experienced in boot that I hadn't really had to deal with prior to it: shaving with an non-electric device, folding clothes, sexual embarrassment (over the fact of my lack of experience), and the undereducated.

Clint Running Amok!

If Clint is reading this, right now he's bouncing up and down going, "Amok, amok, amok!" Inside joke.

I've been harassing my blog-having friends to post and it occurs to me that I'm behind a bit in my posts as well. So as not to be a hypocrite, here's a post of my own.

It's storytime again, folks. This one is a tale of adventure, intrigue, and just plain fun. It stars a buddy of mine who's name was Clint before he had his name changed (can you blame him?). We were Chinese linguists - CTIs - stationed on Oahu, Hawaii. We worked hard and hence played hard. At one time, a bunch of us took leave and rented a cottage on the beach of the local (everything's local on an island) recreation base. Good times...