If you’re a military blogger visiting this site, be sure to say hello:  navalgazer (at) navalgazer.com. 

I am still trying to figure out which other sites out there are very active.  Milblogging.com seems like a decent portal.  I apparently erred in joining a spouse web-ring (so ’90s!).  Only a handful of the sites are active and most seem to have animated red roses that drop from the top of the page and then, as roses do, bounce around.  Bad, but not bad enough to keep the link on this page!  It is a weak defense but all I can say is that I was drawn in by that folksy logo and wanted that home-sewn website look.

Elysia and Citrus made homemade pizzas tonight:  One for Mommy and Daddy, and a baby pizza. 

Guess who hogged the mushrooms?

Elysia left today for a 2-week training at the Army JAG school. It is the first time she has been away from Citrus since coming back from deployment.  Now that our daughter is two and a half, we think she understands what is going on at least in a general sense:

Mommy is going to work?
She has other people’s car?
Mommy is going away for a while?

It will be interesting to see how she handles this short period of time. Will she act out a few days from now and make this a rough two weeks? For some odd reason I keep thinking of my cat during college who would stop using the litterbox and hide in the closet if I was gone too long.

At the command pre-deployment briefing for families in Norfolk last year, someone from the Fleet & Family Support Center gave me a Sesame Street DVD for military families. It features Elmo, whose dad who is ”going away for a while”.  

It is a great video but it is also depressing, particularly if you are watching it with your kid and it sinks in that they are singing about you.  If you really want to wallow, there is a section for adults only.  The main advice in the video for military families everywhere is:  KEEP BUSY.  You can watch the full DVD, “Talk, Listen, Connect“ online or save the files to your computer.

Elmo receives a lot of reassurance that all of his friends are “going to be here for you” and there are short interviews with military families, as well as two catchy songs.  I think I alternated between feeling sorry for us and feeling much worse about the other families who are facing much greater hardships.  Wouldn’t you know it was Citrus’s favorite video, so we had to watch it about a thousand times. 

During deployment Citrus sang along with the video but I could not figure out if she identified with Elmo using a webcam. Apparently it not only sunk in, but it has really helped us explain Elysia leaving tonight.  Today all I had to do was say “Mommy is going away for a while, like Elmo’s daddy” and she got it.  She was thrilled to give her Mommy a stuffed animal to take with her, like Elmo did with his Daddy.

Now we’ll wait and see if she pees in the closet.

When we first started dating, I knew that Elysia would be leaving for her first duty station as soon as she passed the bar exam but neither of us knew where that would be.  One of the truths about joining the military is that you really can see the world.  Of course, it may not be somewhere you wanted to see but the mystery of it can be fun once you fully accept that it could be anywhere you are needed.  In the Navy the odds are good that you are going to be near water and we both consider that to be a good thing having grown up on the coasts.

When she was in Naval Justice School (JAG training following Officer Indoctrination School), Elysia heard a story about someone in another class who was arrogant and full of himself. Knowing that the detailer was coming to discuss possible first duty stations, several classmates began extolling the virtues of Guam in front of this annoying officer, a place none of them wanted to go.  A tropical paradise! A rare assignment! Predictably, the officer was a bit sneaky and privately cornered the detailer, demanding that he was the right person to be sent to Guam . . . and off he went. 

The detailers have the challenging job of finding someone to fill every billet whether it is a great place or not.  Of course desirability is in the eye of the beholder — we met other people later who wanted Guam — and the detailer tries to put everything in the best possible light. A few years back there was a position open at Naval Air Station Lemoore, and I had to laugh when it was described as being within equal driving distance of both San Francisco and Los Angeles. While some places are nicer than others, there are very few places I would not mind exploring for three years. Fortunately, the JAG Corps is small enough that an officer has a reasonable chance of going somewhere they identified on their dream sheet. 

After we had been dating a few months one of the first things I did was scour the web to learn more about the places JAGs can go.  Keflavik, Iceland?  We could soak in the healing waters of the Blue Lagoon for three years!  Sardinia, Italy?  The locals have discovered that the secret to living long is wine and goat cheese, and I think I could get on board with that if called upon by my country. 

As it turned out, while I was daydreaming of Europe the reality was that our first duty station was going to be Kings Bay, Georgia. I panicked when I could not find it quickly on a map.  How would I find a job in the middle of nowhere?  Then through a stroke of luck we were instead off to the Pacific Northwest and lived in Seattle, and wouldn’t you know I couldn’t find work there for months.  Go figure.

So far, we have not made it to Hawaii, Guam or any other tropical paradise.  That nice sunset at the top of this post?  Click on it and you’ll see it was taken from our Miata while driving on I-95 between our 2-year home in Virginia Beach and my job in Washington DC. Fortunately beautiful sunsets can be found everywhere. Even in Seattle.

Married to the Military is a term that I did not understand when Elysia and I first started dating.  Had I been asked what it meant several years ago, I would have probably first thought of patriotism gone rabid, such as the Commander in Dr. Strangelove who thinks the Commies are going to “sap and impurify all of our precious bodily fluids”.

Now after eight years as a military family, we know what it means — nearly every part of your life has some connection to the military, whether it is going shopping or trying to explain why your driver’s license is from another state. The most obvious impact is where you live and the fact that in the back of your mind you’re always trying to factor in how today’s decisions might be impacted by the next move. This weekend Elysia did an amazing job cutting ceramic tile and putting in a new kitchen floor and one of my immediate comments was ”We’ll get to enjoy it for at least a year!” (I’m not an idiot — I said nicer things first.)

The activities of a typical day cannot be carried out without my military ID. We use the day care on an Air Force base, Elysia works on a Navy base, and we grocery shop and see doctors on an Army base. At two years old, Citrus recently wanted her own ID to show to the gate guard with the machine gun, so she uses an Elmo card from a trip to Sesame Place.

It’s when the little absurdities creep up in the most unexpected places that you know you’re married to the military:

Me:  Honey, this morning when I changed Citrus’s diaper, she said oorah.
Mom:  Oorah?
Me:  Yeah, I thought maybe she heard it from an Army parent at daycare.
Mom:  No, that’s hooah.  Was it hooyah?

Of course, conversations such as these are nothing new to other military families.  On another blog a parent said he accidentally referred to his 6 year old daughter as being “on leave” when she had vacation from school, and the web is filled with similar inside jokes and anecdotes. 

The trick is to try to maintain your own identity when your daily routines are often tied to the identity of “your sponsor”.  It still creeps me out when I read about someone saying “We made O3″ (Lieutenant) when referring to their spouse’s promotion, but at the same time I can understand where they’re coming from:  It is a source of pride and it also has implications for where you may be living next.

I just fear the slippery slope that one day I will be be baking cookies for the day care staff and the next thing you know you’re crocheting red, white and blue cosies for M16 magazines. Not that there’s anything wrong with crochet, except that there often is a lot of wrong done with crochet.

Citrus has been going through a rebellious phase lately, involving a lot of naughtiness and ignoring her parents.  We haven’t considered FedEx’ing our small wonder to China but if it isn’t due to her environment, perhaps it is genetic?

I dug out the ultrasounds and it seems we overlooked our first clue.  Are we the victims of some covert experiment at military hospitals?  After all, the Army is working toward humanlike robots on the battlefield, but they didn’t say exactly where they would come from.  The truth is out there.

Sometimes it is hard to tell who has more fun staying at home, me or Citrus.  We played with alphabet noodles on Wednesday.  It would be hard to do Shakepeare’s Complete Works in noodle, but the thought crossed my mind.  As you can see, the letter ‘A’ presented some difficulties — it caught the flash too well, and then Citrus ate it.

* Romeo and Juliet

The Washington State primary election is next Tuesday, February 19th, so imagine Elysia’s surprise when the news reported that John McCain and Barack Obama had won Washington on the 9th. 

You would think we would know how the elections work.  After all, we lived there from 2000 to 2002 for Elysia’s first duty station at Bremerton and she has voted as a state resident in every election since.  Only now did we discover that the primary is somewhat of a sham and that the caucus system excludes many people, including servicemembers.  Apparently we are not the only ones who were out of the loop.

The idea of a caucus is cool – you show up to a precinct, declare a party affiliation, and register your vote.  If you are undecided or persuadable, you have an opportunity to share your thoughts and concerns with others in your party, and informal debating ensues.  Call it an attempt at informed voting.  Unfortunately, you have to be available to attend a caucus for about two hours on a Saturday.  This excludes anyone working that day, with mobility issues, or residents who are out of state.  

We did not even know there was a caucus system because Washington State also has a primary election, which the voters approved in a 1989 state initiative.  When you register to vote, you kind of assume that your vote is going to count.  It may . . . or it may not:  The political parties are not required to take the election results into account when they allocate delegates.  That helpful information is buried on page 3 of the State’s FAQ on the primary.

For the 2008 caucus, the Washington State Republican Party allocates 51 percent of their delegates based on the primary results but does not allow absentee voters to choose the remaining 49 percent through the caucus.  The Washington State Democratic Party ignores the primary election results entirely and blames the state for spending $9 million to hold it  — never mind that the people voted for it.  The Democrats allow you to vote absentee in the caucus only if you are a servicemember, are disabled or have religious reasons for not going to a caucus on a Saturday.  But you won’t learn these details when you register to vote in the primary or vote absentee.  Instead, the voting materials imply that your vote really counts:

Washington’s Presidential Primary allows Washington voters an important role in nominating candidates for the highest office in the land . . .  [emphasis added]

It is only online that the importance is explained: 

Had Washington not held a presidential primary in 2000, the candidates may not have visited our state . . .

And if a pointless election doesn’t bring them in, at least those salmon throwers at the Pike Place Market will!

Today was the Chinese New Year parade in Washington DC.  Other than a few restaurants, it’s pretty much the only time the area downtown feels like a Chinatown.  Nearly all area Chinese have long moved to the suburbs and the few who remained were displaced by the old convention center and the Verizon Center, which was built right in the middle of the neighborhood.  In the past three years the 7th Street NW corridor has had an influx of chain stores and restaurants, and they’re all required to have their signs translated into Chinese to preserve the character of a neighborhood that no longer exists.  Apparently, the translation of “Hooters” into Chinese is a play on the character for owl.  Hoo knew?! 

You can join the Navy and see the world but we’re finding that there’s a lot that looks the same at first glance.  When we lived in Seattle we visited Fado, an Irish pub, near Pike Place Market.  I thought it was unique but there is one in Chinatown and 13 locations throughout the country.  Beyond the obvious — Cheesecake Factories, Starbucks, and Anthropologies – New Luxury Condos under construction in Southeast Washington DC are painted the same earth tones as those built in Seattle’s Belltown.  Every city also seems to have had a variation on the same art project:  Ponies On Parade (Seattle), Mermaids on Parade (Virginia Beach), Lizards (Orlando), Pigs (Peoria) and Cow Parade (5+ cities worldwide). 

When Washington DC had Party Animals in 2002 with elephants and donkeys throughout the city, things got a little interesting.  PETA paid $5,000 to paint a shackled baby elephant with tears trickling down her face but was prevented from displaying it, even when they graciously ”removed the tacks and blood from the design and added some decorative aspects, while still remaining true to the underlying theme that elephants in circuses suffer miserably.”  The Green Party also sued the DC Commission on Arts and Humanities for being excluded, but was not permitted to put their sunflower mascot everywhere on the public’s dime.

Today’s party animal was a long golden Dragon, accompanied by lion dancers from the Wong Chinese Boxing Association (”The Wong People will drive away your evil spirits and make good luck possible,” “Study Kung Fu with the Wong People” etc.).  We had dinner afterwards at Tony Cheng’s and gave Citrus red envelopes for good luck.  Who says money can’t buy you happiness?

I grew up in Berkeley and it often disappoints me to read news of my hometown because the stories are inevitably about symbolic actions that result in spectacle over substance. Most recently, the Berkeley City Council was on the verge of sending a letter to the local Marines recruiting office telling them they are “uninvited and unwelcome intruders”.

For the past several months, Code Pink has been holding protests which have gradually escalated to the point where sympathizers have defaced the recruiting office with “traitor” and “U.S. Marine Corps Officer Assasination [sic] Office”. In addition to voting on the letter, the Council also voted to give Code Pink a parking space in front of the recruiting office and a free sound permit.

As they say, this is what democracy looks like, and Code Pink advises that “Resistance may involve writing a letter in the morning and making a phone call or two, then hitting the streets in the afternoon with a clenched fist and fits of rage. It’s all good.” Of course, it’s even more appealing when the mau-mauing can be scheduled to take place equidistant from the Berkeley Bowl, a fantastic supermarket, and the Cheese Board Collective, located in the heart of Berkeley’s gourmet ghetto. It makes for an efficient use of time on a busy day.

The result of the Council votes was a well-choreographed and predictable dance, another chance for the right wing and left wing to have a smackdown both online and in downtown Berkeley. All the usual suspects are involved, most having been in the same argument since at least the Summer of Love. There are ample media opportunities for everyone from Medea Benjamin to David Horowitz, and the current crop of Cal students get some nice souvenir photos to send home.

Then they came for Alice Waters, and I did not speak up because I had never eaten at Chez Panisse.

The true horror of war came to Berkeley when Senator Jim DeMint (R-SC) introduced the Semper Fi Act of 2008 which hits at the heart of Berkeley liberals by going after the prize program of its most influential chef. The legislation would pull $243,000 in federal funding for school lunches and give it (the funding, not the lunches) to the Marines. For most American schoolchildren, there would be much rejoicing as the creamed spinach went by the wayside. But in Berkeley, the federal funds go to the Chez Panisse Foundation, established by legendary chef Alice Waters. Waters also co-created The Edible Schoolyard, a truly visionary school lunch program and food curriculum at my old junior high school that puts most schools to shame.

What we are calling for is a revolution in public education — a real Delicious Revolution. When the hearts and minds of our children are captured by a school lunch curriculum, enriched with experience in the garden, sustainability will become the lens through which they see the world.

Of course, one hopes there is room in the revolution for It’s-Its, which I first ate in ridiculous quantities at the same junior high school.

The tip of the spear met the tip of the asparagus spear and the legislation was too much for Berkeley to bear: Council Members are reconsidering the letter and the Mayor (a retired Army Captain) has apologized. In the end, the posturing backfired and the resulting arguments have more to do with long-standing ideological feuding than positions on the war itself.  After all, the most recent polls show that the majority of Americans (67 percent) oppose the war and stand united in feeling that Congress and the President are not doing a good job.

Caught in the crossfire were the Marine Captain who heads the recruiting office and wrote an excellent letter to Code Pink in a local paper, and Berkeley children such as Christopher who has enjoyed the Edible Garden: “Yesterday we went to the garden and harvested chard, amaranth, and joi choy. Then we went into the kitchen and cooked noodles with them. It was delicious!”  These two voices of reason rose above the din of protesters and counter-protesters camped downtown, each side only interested in plotting the next opportunity to insult the other.