I’m on Attu Island in Alaska as I write this. How insane is that? I’m 1,100 miles from mainland Alaska and I can still play poker and blog on the Internet. It is, admittedly, rather choppy Internet . (It's no worse than Maine in similar weather.)
The weather is awful!!!!! This place routinely sees 50-80 mph winds this time of year. At one point their records showed over 170 mph within the last year. I fall asleep each night to the sound of a freight train outside my window. I have not stepped a single foot outside since walking over from the runway last Wednesday. It’s not that it is that incredibly awful, it’s just so very intimidating. I keep waiting for an Imperial Walker to walk around the corner when I look out of the window. Hell, the windows! Half the time they’re plastered with snow from the drifts!
And yet I’m terribly pleased to be on this trip. It’s only a two week stay on the island. Well, IF the C-130 can land, it’s only two weeks. LORAN stations are the first step in the process of cutting the Coast Guard budget. Since I’ve been here they’ve already shut down their major signal. By next year this LORAN station and many (all?) of the other LORAN stations will be shut down permanently. Attu Island will return to Population Zero (as it probably should be considering how inhospitable it is). I’m glad I was given the opportunity to make it out here, even if the only pics I get are on my way back to the C-130 next week. :D
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Work. Show all posts
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Welcome To Kodiak
It’s been 12 years and some months since I moved out of the last “Squad Bay” I ever lived in. I guess it’s not terribly fair to call this a squad bay. It’s more like a very privacy-be-damned barracks room for three with minimal furnishings and amenities. I have a rack, a locker, and a desk. There is one couch by the door, but it looks old and dank so I haven’t risked it yet. Attached to the space is a head with two of everything.
I’m sharing the space with a just-graduated non-rate on his way to the Munro, Kodiak’s 378’, and an SNET(?) en route to his PCS duty station in Attu. I should know him rather well after two days here and two weeks there.
There are two doors leading into the squad bay. The one to the left of my rack (which is in the middle of the room) leads to a hallway and stairs that get me to the main hallway. I have no idea where the door on the right goes. However, this morning someone waltzed in through said door to talk to the new guy to my right. When they left together, they went out through the right door (door on right?) and magically appeared in the dining facility while I was eating breakfast. My guess is you can get out that way.
I am so glad that I spent three months in St. Paul and not in this room. Attu should be a cake walk.
I’m sharing the space with a just-graduated non-rate on his way to the Munro, Kodiak’s 378’, and an SNET(?) en route to his PCS duty station in Attu. I should know him rather well after two days here and two weeks there.
There are two doors leading into the squad bay. The one to the left of my rack (which is in the middle of the room) leads to a hallway and stairs that get me to the main hallway. I have no idea where the door on the right goes. However, this morning someone waltzed in through said door to talk to the new guy to my right. When they left together, they went out through the right door (door on right?) and magically appeared in the dining facility while I was eating breakfast. My guess is you can get out that way.
I am so glad that I spent three months in St. Paul and not in this room. Attu should be a cake walk.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Football?
I've been mildly distracted this week. I rushed my picks, not even glancing at the spreads offered in each game. The Saints will win. The Chargers will too. What's got my attention? I started back at work and had a blast relearning my job after a three month hiatus. Also, 6,494 players in the WSOP Main Event have been shaved down to the November Nine. The Final Table is starting as I type this. There are 7 "professional" poker players out of the nine left. Sure, it's all luck and no skill. (lol).
If you have the ESPN coverage DVR'd, don't read this: Phil Ivey, the greatest player in the world, is at this year's final table. I can't wait to see how he does with a mildly short stack. (He's got about 15 trips around the table left at the current blind level). For hand-by-hand coverage, check out this site. I haven't been this excited about anything poker in a very long time; that is saying a lot!
If you have the ESPN coverage DVR'd, don't read this: Phil Ivey, the greatest player in the world, is at this year's final table. I can't wait to see how he does with a mildly short stack. (He's got about 15 trips around the table left at the current blind level). For hand-by-hand coverage, check out this site. I haven't been this excited about anything poker in a very long time; that is saying a lot!
Monday, October 26, 2009
It is finally time for me to fly back home to my family. After 91 days away, I fly to Anchorage today and on to Sitka tomorrow. My trip here was better than expected. The family and I coped well, and we’re all looking forward to a couple of months of “down” time over the holiday season. We had a great supporting cast throughout. I want to say thank you so much to all of the friends and family that helped out with timely care-packages, phone calls, emails, and blog posts to keep our minds off the unfortunate parts of such a trip.
The crew here was great as well. Three months is a long time to spend every waking moment with people you work with. Each person’s year-long tour here is a testament to their mental and emotional toughness, and their willingness to look out for each other. I will miss each of them, and I look forward to seeing them again this winter if I am back up here for the opilio season. 
Monday, September 14, 2009
St. Paul Island, Alaska
Yesterday I spent my 48th day on St. Paul Island. My TDY trip here in support of the galley staff for the extra contractors on base is scheduled for 96 days, meaning I am halfway through! If the trip has been anything, it’s been long. I’m looking forward to counting down the days instead of counting up. I have also gained an awful lot of respect for those that spend an entire tour here.
St. Paul Island is home of a LORAN station operated by the Coast Guard. In support of the 625’ tower that pumps its 400,000 watt signal out over the bearing sea, there are currently 14 people stationed here permanently. There are also two civilians that work in a full time status at the station. Each member that gets stationed here leaves their family behind for an entire year. They are compensated by getting an extra 2.5 days/month of compensatory leave and a high priority of transfer for their next assignment. These benefits are the only way that this assignment stays, for the most part, in a volunteer-only status. Thank God for volunteers.
My time here started on the evening of July 27th. An overnight in Anchorage and some hours of flying landed me first on St. George Island and then on to St. Paul. Both islands are part of the Pribilof Island chain.
The XPO picked me up from the airport and our first stop was a seal rookery past Zapadni Point on the southern coast of the island. There I caught my first look at the endangered Northern Fur Seal. I was really looking forward to this visit, as the Fur Seal trade is what originally brought the Coast Guard (then the Revenue Cutter Service) to Alaska. I was not disappointed. The seals were fascinating to watch and listen to. They also have a fascinating smell.
The first week I spent time learning the ins-and-outs of my job here. I also started to learn the routine of LORAN station. There are a lot of techniques used by the personnel to pass their time
here. One of my favorites takes place on Fridays. The crew is generally granted early liberty after lunch. Darts, billiards, foosb
all and movies dominate the afternoon. After dinner the real fun starts, as most of the crew participates in a NL Texas Hold’em tournament (for free, of course) on the mess deck. That first Friday, I took down a tournament of 8 players. This game is easy! Since then, it hasn’t come as easy. I must say that winning 3 of 9 tournaments since arriving appears to be more than my fair share though.
On my first Saturday, and many days since, I walked part of the island. It was just a five mile portion of the island. As a clue to the visual wonders this island displays in the summer time, I took 163 digital photos in that five miles. That first Saturday also marked the beginning of a new month, which was great news (even if I had only been here five days so far).
Anticipation is a big part of passing the time in St. Paul. I’ve found myself looking forward to a number of milestones. Each Friday is indeed a milestone; I’ve been looking forward to the next poker game for years. Also, the comings and goings of personnel is usually looked forward to. As bittersweet as it can be, someone leaving the island means I am closer to going home to see my family. I imagine many people here can’t wait for the day I leave as a marker that their year is closer to being done.
Each milestone seems bigger than it did anywhere else too. For example, I’ve never quite
anticipated the start of a football season as much as I have this one. Both college football and the NFL are such a big deal here. Most likely it is because each sports fan knows that a Sunday full of football is a Sunday that flies by. Also, I really can’t wait for my birthday to get here. Not only does it bring up the prospect of some really cool stuff in the mail (like a PEZ dispenser jigsaw puzzle or San Diego Chargers watch!), but it will also mean that I only have five weeks left!What’s left for the remaining 48 days? Well, there are at least seven more poker games. Maybe (likely) I can add to the six books I’ve read so far. (It’s tough and easy to read here. No one interrupts you. But it gets awfully quiet.) I have at least one more puzzle in store. There will be plenty of working out (at an hour-and-a-half/day, I can burn up 6% of my time here). More walks and photos are definitely on the way. Mostly I will be putting my head down and grinding the time away by picking my head up and enjoying my time here as much as I have so far.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Home. Again.
I’ve been couch-contained since just before the New Year. I had “minor” surgery on the 30th. Minor meaning there’s nothing for my friends to worry about and there’s plenty to affect my life. Yesterday I tried work for the first time. A high percentage of people have no problems within a couple days. I waited a whole week and had plenty of problems. I was home by 10:30. I felt worse yesterday than I did last Thursday.
I really hate the feeling of involuntarily leaving responsibilities at work. I say “involuntarily” because I really have no problems deciding to skip out on work. That’s behavior I’ve had since birth! It’s also part of the reason I scheduled this procedure during our boat’s in-port period. Of course, the upside is more time at home with the family. I have also had loads of time to work on hobbies (work? lol) such as Blogger and poker.
I’ve found some new reads as far as blogs go. It’s nice to have something new to read every time I log on. My new poker blog is going great. I’ve designed a header and background for it using my minimal graphic design talents. I’ll use this opportunity to shamelessly plug it again ;-)
I really hate the feeling of involuntarily leaving responsibilities at work. I say “involuntarily” because I really have no problems deciding to skip out on work. That’s behavior I’ve had since birth! It’s also part of the reason I scheduled this procedure during our boat’s in-port period. Of course, the upside is more time at home with the family. I have also had loads of time to work on hobbies (work? lol) such as Blogger and poker.
I’ve found some new reads as far as blogs go. It’s nice to have something new to read every time I log on. My new poker blog is going great. I’ve designed a header and background for it using my minimal graphic design talents. I’ll use this opportunity to shamelessly plug it again ;-)
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Top Ten Tips for Avoiding Seasickness
I work on a boat for a living. This has been the case for nearly seven years of my life. By the time I am retired from the Coast Guard I will have spent a large percentage of my life at sea. In my years on the ocean I’ve had a quite the bout with sea sickness a time or two. I’ve started making a mental list of the techniques I use to combat the worst feeling in the world. There are ten tips I recommend to help you the next time you’re rocking and rolling on the high seas.
Tip #1: Don’t get seasick –
- I know, I know. “Thanks Brandon. That’s bleeping brilliant!” Honestly, my biggest problem with seasickness is avoiding it. I find that when I get seasick I don’t ever feel right again until I am on solid land. That being said I am doing everything imaginable to stay feeling well. I psyche myself out well before the trip, convincing myself that it will take an act of God to get me sick. I also plan out what I will be doing during the rough weather so I don’t ever have to think about how sick I am feeling.
Tip #2: Don’t let the boat tell you how sick you are –
- I have a large mixer in the corner of my galley. Right next to it are 5 cutting boards. When the seas are rough enough these cutting boards flop back and forth between the mixer and the bulkhead. Right underneath it is a large rolling pin on the shelf. Across the way 5 ladles and 8 spoons hang from a bar above the counter. The resulting noise is deafening and coordinated. I know that as soon as I hear the cutting boards and rolling pin I will start getting squeamish. These things remind me of the war that the sea is waging against the floating hunk of steel that is my boat. I do my best to mitigate these things. Visual cues also throw my inner-ear for a loop. On my first boat I looked out of the galley through portals on the Starboard side of the boat. Ocean – sky – ocean – sky – ocean – sky. Yuck.
Tip #3: Attempt to leave nothing to do –
- Mise en Place – Have everything in its place. In the cooking world it means that I do as much prep work as possible ahead of time. The last thing I want to do in rough seas is pipe manicotti shells full of ricotta. Actually, I’ve already done that once. ONCE. If I am feeling well and I run out of things to do, I sit and relax. Others may find it useful to stay busy and keep their mind off of the sea state. If I want to stay busy and I’ve already prepped a meal to the max, I set off prepping the following meal. Or I may decide to do extra cleaning.
Tips #4 and 5: Eat healthy before and during bad weather – Stay hydrated –
- I’m not sure how far I can go into this without being redundant. Eat well so you are full of energy. Being tired doesn’t improve your odds of avoiding seasickness. And staying hydrated is a double bonus – it keeps you feeling well longer AND gives you something to do once you aren’t feeling well. Yuck.
Tip #6: Burping is good –
- The number one sign that I am getting sick is this constant pressure in my upper chest that feels like it’s restricting my esophagus. The number one relief of that feeling is a good belch! So I like to break open a can of soda early on in rough weather. Please note that this technique DOES NOT work for me when I am already queasy.
Tip #7: Wake up with drugs in your system to beat drowsiness –
- I once woke up somewhere near the Cape Cod Canal. We were on our way up from Baltimore and it was about 3am. The seas were awful and it felt like they were driving us around in the trough. I had a couple hours before I was required to be up to cook breakfast, so I jumped up and went to the medicine cabinet. I grabbed some Dramamine and went back to the rack. I woke up nice and refreshed from my power nap with none of the ill side effects of the motion sickness pills. Now if only I could have been ninja enough to avoid the side effects of the pot of boiling water that got underway – that’d be awesome!
Tip #8 - 10: I got lazy, so you get ‘em all at once! –
- The more I can stay horizontal when the seas are rough, the better. Sleep and you may wake up sick, but you won’t actually BE sick while you’re sleeping. Besides, who doesn’t like sleep?
- Stay well below the water line. My galley rolls a lot less than the bridge does. The engineering spaces hardly roll at all compared to the bridge. At times I don’t feel a thing in the galley while the bridge will make me sick.
- Keep cool! Being overheated will lead to puking!! Another great reason to stay hydrated!
And that’s it! These are all of the things that I do to keep from getting sick! Well – besides my typical behavior of doing as little as possible for as long as possible! Everyone is different and it’s important to pay attention to what keeps you well. Good luck!
Tip #1: Don’t get seasick –
- I know, I know. “Thanks Brandon. That’s bleeping brilliant!” Honestly, my biggest problem with seasickness is avoiding it. I find that when I get seasick I don’t ever feel right again until I am on solid land. That being said I am doing everything imaginable to stay feeling well. I psyche myself out well before the trip, convincing myself that it will take an act of God to get me sick. I also plan out what I will be doing during the rough weather so I don’t ever have to think about how sick I am feeling.
Tip #2: Don’t let the boat tell you how sick you are –
- I have a large mixer in the corner of my galley. Right next to it are 5 cutting boards. When the seas are rough enough these cutting boards flop back and forth between the mixer and the bulkhead. Right underneath it is a large rolling pin on the shelf. Across the way 5 ladles and 8 spoons hang from a bar above the counter. The resulting noise is deafening and coordinated. I know that as soon as I hear the cutting boards and rolling pin I will start getting squeamish. These things remind me of the war that the sea is waging against the floating hunk of steel that is my boat. I do my best to mitigate these things. Visual cues also throw my inner-ear for a loop. On my first boat I looked out of the galley through portals on the Starboard side of the boat. Ocean – sky – ocean – sky – ocean – sky. Yuck.
Tip #3: Attempt to leave nothing to do –
- Mise en Place – Have everything in its place. In the cooking world it means that I do as much prep work as possible ahead of time. The last thing I want to do in rough seas is pipe manicotti shells full of ricotta. Actually, I’ve already done that once. ONCE. If I am feeling well and I run out of things to do, I sit and relax. Others may find it useful to stay busy and keep their mind off of the sea state. If I want to stay busy and I’ve already prepped a meal to the max, I set off prepping the following meal. Or I may decide to do extra cleaning.
Tips #4 and 5: Eat healthy before and during bad weather – Stay hydrated –
- I’m not sure how far I can go into this without being redundant. Eat well so you are full of energy. Being tired doesn’t improve your odds of avoiding seasickness. And staying hydrated is a double bonus – it keeps you feeling well longer AND gives you something to do once you aren’t feeling well. Yuck.
Tip #6: Burping is good –
- The number one sign that I am getting sick is this constant pressure in my upper chest that feels like it’s restricting my esophagus. The number one relief of that feeling is a good belch! So I like to break open a can of soda early on in rough weather. Please note that this technique DOES NOT work for me when I am already queasy.
Tip #7: Wake up with drugs in your system to beat drowsiness –
- I once woke up somewhere near the Cape Cod Canal. We were on our way up from Baltimore and it was about 3am. The seas were awful and it felt like they were driving us around in the trough. I had a couple hours before I was required to be up to cook breakfast, so I jumped up and went to the medicine cabinet. I grabbed some Dramamine and went back to the rack. I woke up nice and refreshed from my power nap with none of the ill side effects of the motion sickness pills. Now if only I could have been ninja enough to avoid the side effects of the pot of boiling water that got underway – that’d be awesome!
Tip #8 - 10: I got lazy, so you get ‘em all at once! –
- The more I can stay horizontal when the seas are rough, the better. Sleep and you may wake up sick, but you won’t actually BE sick while you’re sleeping. Besides, who doesn’t like sleep?
- Stay well below the water line. My galley rolls a lot less than the bridge does. The engineering spaces hardly roll at all compared to the bridge. At times I don’t feel a thing in the galley while the bridge will make me sick.
- Keep cool! Being overheated will lead to puking!! Another great reason to stay hydrated!
And that’s it! These are all of the things that I do to keep from getting sick! Well – besides my typical behavior of doing as little as possible for as long as possible! Everyone is different and it’s important to pay attention to what keeps you well. Good luck!
Monday, October 22, 2007
Long Trip, Short Walk
Once again October brought about a long separation from home for me. I missed the trees changing here in Maine as the boat left on the first for a three week trip. Our first stop was New London, CT, home of the Coast Guard Academy, on Tuesday the 2nd. We pulled into the city pier right next to the downtown train station.
After getting most of Wednesday off, our mission was to spend time with the cadets, showing them buoy tender life while gaining perspective on their training. This consisted of long days at work waiting around to give tours, or in my case, cooking a lot. We wrapped this up on Friday afternoon, and a good number of us headed to the campus to watch the Academy Bears football team take on the Fitchburg State Falcons. The game was an absolute treat as 8 of our crewmembers ran the chain gang, and the Bears set the school and conference records for total offensive yards (684). You can read more here http://www.uscgasports.com/content/view/689/76/
On Saturday the 6th we made the 12 hour transit to New York City and its surrounding waterways. We stopped in the East River to decommission a buoy in the shadows of the Chrysler and Empire State Buildings. After snagging the buoy we made our way to Bayonne, NJ – our homeport for the remaining time of this trip, moored up outboard of the Katherine Walker.
Although it’s right around the corner from the Statue of Liberty, the Coast Guard moorings in Bayonne are not all that fascinating. The water looks funny, it’s surrounded by cargo facilities, and there are landfills everywhere (including one cleverly disguised as a links style golf course). However …no, that’s pretty much it for Bayonne.
After an eventfully uneventful week (lots of stuff I’d rather forget, including a 5am tour of Chinatown and a hospital emergency room), we pulled into Manhattan on the 12th, a Friday. We stayed at a cruise ship pier near 12th Ave & W 52nd St. I stood duty that night, and it was a ghost ship. Nearly everyone was off the boat, and no one returned until well after my 8pm-12am watch ended.
On Saturday I wanted to get out and stretch my legs (but not so much spend my money). After cooking breakfast I set out with John and Justin. We wanted to see the World Trade Center and Ground Zero. What an incredible walk! I was floored at how much I enjoyed every aspect of it. We passed a huge post office, portions of Times Square, a street fair, Madison Square Garden, a zillion people and pets, 6 zillion pizza places, Greenwich Village, The Bull, and of course Ground Zero, which was heartbreaking.
Five miles we totaled as we arrived at the Staten Island ferry terminal and Battery Park. We rode the subway back. John and I got off at Canal Street for a proper tour of China Town – the not-5am version. Justin was tired and rode back alone, only to make a wrong turn and walk all the way to the East Side and back. After Canal Street John and I went to the boat for free food, and then I went off to Times Square.
Times Square was a let down of sorts. Too many people were gawking at everything like I was. The highlight was seeing the video of Geoffrey the Giraffe outside of Toys R Us. I had a discussion with some of the shortest of our crewmembers the previous week about how they thought he resembled me. They said it was the eyes; I was convinced it was my relative towering stature. They were right – he’s not that tall for a giraffe.
Our day wrapped up nicely. I had walked over eight miles and spent a whopping $24 thanks to the subway and three of Geoffrey cross-dressing as the Statue of Liberty for the girls. The next morning we needed to be out of the way, so we got underway at 0530. We went back to Bayonne for fire school after a stop to see the real Statue. I got lost in Staten Island with a group from the boat. We found a bar though. On Saturday the 20th we started the 36-hour trip home, arriving after 1am on Monday. And that was our trip, minus the anchoring, the fans, the imploding A/C, the floating vinegar, the holding position, the spilled fruit punch, the missing fuel sheet, the free t-shirts, the Mexican, Asian, couple of white guys, and the molester, and the HD PS3.
I took a couple of pics, but I left the camera at work. So here’s something I missed: costume tryouts -
After getting most of Wednesday off, our mission was to spend time with the cadets, showing them buoy tender life while gaining perspective on their training. This consisted of long days at work waiting around to give tours, or in my case, cooking a lot. We wrapped this up on Friday afternoon, and a good number of us headed to the campus to watch the Academy Bears football team take on the Fitchburg State Falcons. The game was an absolute treat as 8 of our crewmembers ran the chain gang, and the Bears set the school and conference records for total offensive yards (684). You can read more here http://www.uscgasports.com/content/view/689/76/
On Saturday the 6th we made the 12 hour transit to New York City and its surrounding waterways. We stopped in the East River to decommission a buoy in the shadows of the Chrysler and Empire State Buildings. After snagging the buoy we made our way to Bayonne, NJ – our homeport for the remaining time of this trip, moored up outboard of the Katherine Walker.
Although it’s right around the corner from the Statue of Liberty, the Coast Guard moorings in Bayonne are not all that fascinating. The water looks funny, it’s surrounded by cargo facilities, and there are landfills everywhere (including one cleverly disguised as a links style golf course). However …no, that’s pretty much it for Bayonne.
After an eventfully uneventful week (lots of stuff I’d rather forget, including a 5am tour of Chinatown and a hospital emergency room), we pulled into Manhattan on the 12th, a Friday. We stayed at a cruise ship pier near 12th Ave & W 52nd St. I stood duty that night, and it was a ghost ship. Nearly everyone was off the boat, and no one returned until well after my 8pm-12am watch ended.
On Saturday I wanted to get out and stretch my legs (but not so much spend my money). After cooking breakfast I set out with John and Justin. We wanted to see the World Trade Center and Ground Zero. What an incredible walk! I was floored at how much I enjoyed every aspect of it. We passed a huge post office, portions of Times Square, a street fair, Madison Square Garden, a zillion people and pets, 6 zillion pizza places, Greenwich Village, The Bull, and of course Ground Zero, which was heartbreaking.
Five miles we totaled as we arrived at the Staten Island ferry terminal and Battery Park. We rode the subway back. John and I got off at Canal Street for a proper tour of China Town – the not-5am version. Justin was tired and rode back alone, only to make a wrong turn and walk all the way to the East Side and back. After Canal Street John and I went to the boat for free food, and then I went off to Times Square.
Times Square was a let down of sorts. Too many people were gawking at everything like I was. The highlight was seeing the video of Geoffrey the Giraffe outside of Toys R Us. I had a discussion with some of the shortest of our crewmembers the previous week about how they thought he resembled me. They said it was the eyes; I was convinced it was my relative towering stature. They were right – he’s not that tall for a giraffe.
Our day wrapped up nicely. I had walked over eight miles and spent a whopping $24 thanks to the subway and three of Geoffrey cross-dressing as the Statue of Liberty for the girls. The next morning we needed to be out of the way, so we got underway at 0530. We went back to Bayonne for fire school after a stop to see the real Statue. I got lost in Staten Island with a group from the boat. We found a bar though. On Saturday the 20th we started the 36-hour trip home, arriving after 1am on Monday. And that was our trip, minus the anchoring, the fans, the imploding A/C, the floating vinegar, the holding position, the spilled fruit punch, the missing fuel sheet, the free t-shirts, the Mexican, Asian, couple of white guys, and the molester, and the HD PS3.
I took a couple of pics, but I left the camera at work. So here’s something I missed: costume tryouts -
Friday, May 25, 2007
Is it Friday yet?
I nearly fell asleep getting my hair cut today. I worked only about five hours this morning. This doesn’t usually wear me down so much. However, we almost got the day off, so the five hours seemed like an eternity. Not to mention that I had only seen my children for about two hours this week at that point. My total sleep hours from Monday night totaled about 22. This doesn’t count the times I fell asleep on the couch trying to spend time with Mary.
Come to think of it, the boat worked more buoys than my 22 hours. I think we did 23 this week. That includes the one we accidentally worked. While we were hauling chain on Grave’s #13, we snagged the chain from the 1992 version of Grave’s. After 15 years sitting at the bottom, that thing was ripe. It still is. When we pulled in yesterday, Deck Force parked it over by the Thunder Bay. It smelled even worse in the 70 degree sun at 7am this morning. Thank God the wind picked up eventually.
I had duty on Tuesday. I only had my signature twice in the logs because we didn’t get in until 9pm. It was my shortest duty day ever. Keven is still breaking in as a watchstander. If I had a long week, he had an unbearable week. He had duty on Sunday and Wednesday, and he’ll have it again tomorrow. He also had to learn how to cook all week. He’s progressing well. Thursday night he served his first meal that was entirely his. It was Baked Ziti (or, more properly a Fake-Baked Ziti as Rachel Ray would put it). He did a bang-up job and the crew loved it.
One thing I have noted as Keven’s been working to learn his job: staying out of the way to let people learn can be extremely difficult when quality might suffer. The last thing I want for the crew is for them to work a 10-hour-pre-dinner day, come in to a crappy, cold, or late meal, and then go out for another 4 hours of work. The last thing I want for Keven is to feel like crap after it happens. But this is all part of setting his feet on fire; he needs the experience, he needs the confidence, and he especially needs the built in pressure that the meal hours naturally create.
Meanwhile I need to have patience and discipline. I have to keep out of the way most of the time to let him work through things. I also need to step in before he gets crushed by an experience that would retract from his development. It’s a very fine line. I imagine this is what a baseball manager might go through with a pitcher struggling on the mound. When do you pull him when waiting to long might destroy his confidence, and acting to quickly might do the same?
Come to think of it, the boat worked more buoys than my 22 hours. I think we did 23 this week. That includes the one we accidentally worked. While we were hauling chain on Grave’s #13, we snagged the chain from the 1992 version of Grave’s. After 15 years sitting at the bottom, that thing was ripe. It still is. When we pulled in yesterday, Deck Force parked it over by the Thunder Bay. It smelled even worse in the 70 degree sun at 7am this morning. Thank God the wind picked up eventually.
I had duty on Tuesday. I only had my signature twice in the logs because we didn’t get in until 9pm. It was my shortest duty day ever. Keven is still breaking in as a watchstander. If I had a long week, he had an unbearable week. He had duty on Sunday and Wednesday, and he’ll have it again tomorrow. He also had to learn how to cook all week. He’s progressing well. Thursday night he served his first meal that was entirely his. It was Baked Ziti (or, more properly a Fake-Baked Ziti as Rachel Ray would put it). He did a bang-up job and the crew loved it.
One thing I have noted as Keven’s been working to learn his job: staying out of the way to let people learn can be extremely difficult when quality might suffer. The last thing I want for the crew is for them to work a 10-hour-pre-dinner day, come in to a crappy, cold, or late meal, and then go out for another 4 hours of work. The last thing I want for Keven is to feel like crap after it happens. But this is all part of setting his feet on fire; he needs the experience, he needs the confidence, and he especially needs the built in pressure that the meal hours naturally create.
Meanwhile I need to have patience and discipline. I have to keep out of the way most of the time to let him work through things. I also need to step in before he gets crushed by an experience that would retract from his development. It’s a very fine line. I imagine this is what a baseball manager might go through with a pitcher struggling on the mound. When do you pull him when waiting to long might destroy his confidence, and acting to quickly might do the same?
Friday, May 4, 2007
Jalapeno Jack and the Great Day
Today was going to be a good ending to a good week. Heading into this morning, I had a great feeling of excitement. I finished week 7 yesterday in school. I have two weeks of work in front of me (most of it done already) before I get my degree. Also, Keven was working breakfast for the first time on his own; I had 45 minutes of extra sleep because of it. This Friday was going to be a morale softball game with the Tackle guys. So after breakfast, I had only shopping and paperwork on my task list. I was more excited about today than I have been about any work day in a long time.
The morale event was cancelled almost immediately. Two of our three department heads were not onboard with having their people leave an hour early on a Friday. With only about seven people playing from our crew (the Tackle has about seven total crew members), there was no way we would be able to field a game. So I ordered tuna steaks from Jess’ Market. As soon as I did, plans changed and lunch was off again. I had to settle into some paperwork and wait for everyone to figure out what the hell was actually going on.
Paperwork was the one thing that went as planned today. I had a lot of issues come up in my recent compliance inspection. As of today, each one of them is resolved. I would actually go as far as to say that it was overly-resolved today. I don’t want any of these issues to ever arise again, so the last two weeks I have been organizing something that I have become somewhat of a specialist in lately: automation. Today was the icing on the cake, and it felt great putting it together.
We finally got the okay to cook lunch on time, and I ran off with Keven to pick up groceries. We went to Jess’ for the Tuna. It was $14.99 per pound. That’s more than the lobsters cost. Speaking of lobsters, I showed Keven how to properly play with the live lobsters in the tank. Then we went to Hannaford, and Keven had some beautiful woman ask for his phone number. No, I’m not kidding.
Back on the boat, we started chopping veggies. We had a lot to do. Today’s menu: Grilled Margarita Marinated Tuna Steaks topped with Fresh Salsa, Black Bean Salad, and Southwestern Corn. Keven started working on the salad, and I got to work on dessert and the marinade. Somewhere in the middle, Keven started in on the Jalapenos. Somewhere in the middle of that, the Jalapenos decided to squirt him in the eyes. He tried the classic rub-the-bad-stuff-out-of-my-eye technique. After 15 minutes of flushing his eyes in the emergency eye washing station, he was ready to return to work.
After the first aid ordeal, Keven and I were looking at about 50 minutes to complete a meal that would take 45 minutes. It was great to have him in a situation like this in his first week; we were rushing to complete a meal that we had no intention of cooking at the start of the day. We blitzed through it, the fish was excellent, and the overall meal was the best I had cooked without Christine in a very long time. Keven got his hands (and his eyes) in it quite a bit. More importantly, he learned how hectic in can get in a galley when it hits the fan, and the importance of being prepared. This was by far the best week I have had at this duty station.
Alas, that was not the perfect ending to a perfect day; as I was writing this, the Sabres tied the Rangers with 7 seconds left in the third. In overtime, the healthy scratch from game 4 put the Sabres up 3 games to 2 in the best of 7 series. Go Sabres!
The morale event was cancelled almost immediately. Two of our three department heads were not onboard with having their people leave an hour early on a Friday. With only about seven people playing from our crew (the Tackle has about seven total crew members), there was no way we would be able to field a game. So I ordered tuna steaks from Jess’ Market. As soon as I did, plans changed and lunch was off again. I had to settle into some paperwork and wait for everyone to figure out what the hell was actually going on.
Paperwork was the one thing that went as planned today. I had a lot of issues come up in my recent compliance inspection. As of today, each one of them is resolved. I would actually go as far as to say that it was overly-resolved today. I don’t want any of these issues to ever arise again, so the last two weeks I have been organizing something that I have become somewhat of a specialist in lately: automation. Today was the icing on the cake, and it felt great putting it together.
We finally got the okay to cook lunch on time, and I ran off with Keven to pick up groceries. We went to Jess’ for the Tuna. It was $14.99 per pound. That’s more than the lobsters cost. Speaking of lobsters, I showed Keven how to properly play with the live lobsters in the tank. Then we went to Hannaford, and Keven had some beautiful woman ask for his phone number. No, I’m not kidding.
Back on the boat, we started chopping veggies. We had a lot to do. Today’s menu: Grilled Margarita Marinated Tuna Steaks topped with Fresh Salsa, Black Bean Salad, and Southwestern Corn. Keven started working on the salad, and I got to work on dessert and the marinade. Somewhere in the middle, Keven started in on the Jalapenos. Somewhere in the middle of that, the Jalapenos decided to squirt him in the eyes. He tried the classic rub-the-bad-stuff-out-of-my-eye technique. After 15 minutes of flushing his eyes in the emergency eye washing station, he was ready to return to work.
After the first aid ordeal, Keven and I were looking at about 50 minutes to complete a meal that would take 45 minutes. It was great to have him in a situation like this in his first week; we were rushing to complete a meal that we had no intention of cooking at the start of the day. We blitzed through it, the fish was excellent, and the overall meal was the best I had cooked without Christine in a very long time. Keven got his hands (and his eyes) in it quite a bit. More importantly, he learned how hectic in can get in a galley when it hits the fan, and the importance of being prepared. This was by far the best week I have had at this duty station.
Alas, that was not the perfect ending to a perfect day; as I was writing this, the Sabres tied the Rangers with 7 seconds left in the third. In overtime, the healthy scratch from game 4 put the Sabres up 3 games to 2 in the best of 7 series. Go Sabres!
Sunday, April 29, 2007
The New Kid
The new kid arrived at work on Friday. I use the term “kid” loosely, as he is nearly 30-years-old. But he’s new, and they always seem like kids when their new. I think it’s the apprehension. He was in the Army before, so he graduated school as an E-4. He’s originally from L.A. and he’s a big time surfer. His accent would tell you if I didn’t. Much like Keanu Reeves in any movie since “Bill and Ted’s…” you keep expecting him to say “Dude” every time he talks. His name is Keven.
He had never been on a ship before Friday. He also has very little in the way of cooking experience. These two things tell me that a) we have a lot of work in front of us, and b) I am going to find out exactly what kind of boss I am.
I briefed him on roles and expectations, the ship’s routine, and my philosophies about how the galley will be run. I’ve covered some of these things in earlier blogs, but here is what I highlighted:
1. Customer Service – Our ultimate mission in the galley, it’s why we exist onboard. This covers everything from serving good food to creating an uplifting atmosphere.
2. Time Management – The amount of success we have in the galley depends heavily on our skills at time management. I am a proponent of getting as much done as possible as early as possible. This leads to less panic when it becomes crunch-time, allowing for more quality in a safer environment. I’ve always been a fan of less cuts, burns, and bruises.
3. Focused Learning – Here’s the thing: I need this kid to be able to do my job – almost completely – before I can go on leave. And for the first few weeks, he won’t be able to do much of anything on his own. That is fine, and I should expect as much from anyone new. In order to get him where he’s going, I’ll be tasking him with jobs that I would normally (at least) assist with. But he’ll be on his own, with me in the general vicinity. This doesn’t mean that I’ll be kicked back on the mess deck napping [even though I often dream of such things and, most days, would absolutely love to. I like naps.]. I’ll find something for myself. Helm/lookout and Quartermaster qualifications are pending for me. Basically, I need to get this guys feet wet for a couple of weeks, and then I need to set fire to them after that [figuratively Mom, I promise!].
4. Goal Setting – I want to find out what he wants out of this job. Once we get that out of him, it’s just a matter of picking them off of a list. If he sees these things accomplished, his confidence and ownership will rise, and I’ll have a really easy job… again.
I am so freaking excited about this. The whole reason I picked this job was the potential for developing someone brand new. It’s coming at a time where I am finally “settling down” from our transfer that happened oh-so-long ago.
He had never been on a ship before Friday. He also has very little in the way of cooking experience. These two things tell me that a) we have a lot of work in front of us, and b) I am going to find out exactly what kind of boss I am.
I briefed him on roles and expectations, the ship’s routine, and my philosophies about how the galley will be run. I’ve covered some of these things in earlier blogs, but here is what I highlighted:
1. Customer Service – Our ultimate mission in the galley, it’s why we exist onboard. This covers everything from serving good food to creating an uplifting atmosphere.
2. Time Management – The amount of success we have in the galley depends heavily on our skills at time management. I am a proponent of getting as much done as possible as early as possible. This leads to less panic when it becomes crunch-time, allowing for more quality in a safer environment. I’ve always been a fan of less cuts, burns, and bruises.
3. Focused Learning – Here’s the thing: I need this kid to be able to do my job – almost completely – before I can go on leave. And for the first few weeks, he won’t be able to do much of anything on his own. That is fine, and I should expect as much from anyone new. In order to get him where he’s going, I’ll be tasking him with jobs that I would normally (at least) assist with. But he’ll be on his own, with me in the general vicinity. This doesn’t mean that I’ll be kicked back on the mess deck napping [even though I often dream of such things and, most days, would absolutely love to. I like naps.]. I’ll find something for myself. Helm/lookout and Quartermaster qualifications are pending for me. Basically, I need to get this guys feet wet for a couple of weeks, and then I need to set fire to them after that [figuratively Mom, I promise!].
4. Goal Setting – I want to find out what he wants out of this job. Once we get that out of him, it’s just a matter of picking them off of a list. If he sees these things accomplished, his confidence and ownership will rise, and I’ll have a really easy job… again.
I am so freaking excited about this. The whole reason I picked this job was the potential for developing someone brand new. It’s coming at a time where I am finally “settling down” from our transfer that happened oh-so-long ago.
Saturday, March 17, 2007
…Service Specialist, Part III
Impact
They always say that the food has a large impact on the morale of the crew. Wrong. The Cooks have a large impact on the morale of the crew. This is by far the most important part of our job, and it’s the key to pleasing all the people all the time. It is also the most rewarding. By being able to shake off the stresses of the day when it matters most - when your customers are taking a break - you can have a mammoth impact on the morale of the entire unit. Mediocre food will maintain.
This is nearly impossible for some people, and I think it is why my rate is at the forefront of suicide, divorce, and alcoholism. When the complaints of others hit close to home, it’s really easy to jump in and start whining too. There’s a time for misgivings to be aired. I usually find a close friend that I can go bug in his office, when he’s trying to work. But a cook needs to stay above the fray as much as possible. Play the neutral, “I’m here to listen” role. Actually, it’s exactly like the role the bartender plays in modern day fiction. A little well timed advice here and there goes a long way.
By not jumping off of the bandwagon of hatred and discontent, a cook gives off nothing but foul mood. Foul mood begets foul mood. It’s so easy to build off of negativity. As sarcastic and quick witted as most crews are, a small flicker of grumpiness can quickly turn into a raging forest fire of disgruntlement. Crew members who came to the galley to unwind just get more wound up. Eventually this will snap back at the cook who is throwing fuel on the flames. It’s inevitable. It’s expected. It’s detrimental. Foul mood begets foul mood. Disgruntled cooks cook disgruntled food. An “I don’t care” meal is so much worse than mediocre. It’s worse than disgusting.
Energetic and optimistic. I strive for these ideals daily. The impact is felt throughout my cutter. Meeting people at the door with that attitude makes everyone circle the wagons for each other. Instead of grumpiness being met with unrelenting sarcasm, it is simply stepped around with caution. Respect flies around the room as if it actually belongs.
It’s amazing how people will jump onboard a program that seems to work. Positive moods are just as popular as the negative. It’s remarkable the reaction you get the first time you clear the plate of someone who had every intention of getting up to do it himself. The initial argument gives way to the fact that he can now sit and talk longer with his friends, or catch just a little more of The Price is Right before heading back to work, or home for the day. I always play it off that I am just trying to get the dishes done so I can scat, but that smile you get back… Or when I you bring up fried egg sandwiches to the watchstanders while your patrol boat’s on a night time SAR case. The giddiness they show when you waltz up there smelling of sausage and American cheese….
I may be slightly narcissistic, but all I really hope for in life is to have an impact of the people around me, to have them remember me when I am not around. No other job affords me the opportunity that this one does. That’s why I am a cook. That’s why Service will always be a part of my job description.
They always say that the food has a large impact on the morale of the crew. Wrong. The Cooks have a large impact on the morale of the crew. This is by far the most important part of our job, and it’s the key to pleasing all the people all the time. It is also the most rewarding. By being able to shake off the stresses of the day when it matters most - when your customers are taking a break - you can have a mammoth impact on the morale of the entire unit. Mediocre food will maintain.
This is nearly impossible for some people, and I think it is why my rate is at the forefront of suicide, divorce, and alcoholism. When the complaints of others hit close to home, it’s really easy to jump in and start whining too. There’s a time for misgivings to be aired. I usually find a close friend that I can go bug in his office, when he’s trying to work. But a cook needs to stay above the fray as much as possible. Play the neutral, “I’m here to listen” role. Actually, it’s exactly like the role the bartender plays in modern day fiction. A little well timed advice here and there goes a long way.
By not jumping off of the bandwagon of hatred and discontent, a cook gives off nothing but foul mood. Foul mood begets foul mood. It’s so easy to build off of negativity. As sarcastic and quick witted as most crews are, a small flicker of grumpiness can quickly turn into a raging forest fire of disgruntlement. Crew members who came to the galley to unwind just get more wound up. Eventually this will snap back at the cook who is throwing fuel on the flames. It’s inevitable. It’s expected. It’s detrimental. Foul mood begets foul mood. Disgruntled cooks cook disgruntled food. An “I don’t care” meal is so much worse than mediocre. It’s worse than disgusting.
Energetic and optimistic. I strive for these ideals daily. The impact is felt throughout my cutter. Meeting people at the door with that attitude makes everyone circle the wagons for each other. Instead of grumpiness being met with unrelenting sarcasm, it is simply stepped around with caution. Respect flies around the room as if it actually belongs.
It’s amazing how people will jump onboard a program that seems to work. Positive moods are just as popular as the negative. It’s remarkable the reaction you get the first time you clear the plate of someone who had every intention of getting up to do it himself. The initial argument gives way to the fact that he can now sit and talk longer with his friends, or catch just a little more of The Price is Right before heading back to work, or home for the day. I always play it off that I am just trying to get the dishes done so I can scat, but that smile you get back… Or when I you bring up fried egg sandwiches to the watchstanders while your patrol boat’s on a night time SAR case. The giddiness they show when you waltz up there smelling of sausage and American cheese….
I may be slightly narcissistic, but all I really hope for in life is to have an impact of the people around me, to have them remember me when I am not around. No other job affords me the opportunity that this one does. That’s why I am a cook. That’s why Service will always be a part of my job description.
Friday, March 16, 2007
…Service Specialist, Part II
The Heart
Every boat I have ever been on – every diesel-stinking, pitching-rolling, gut-busting, rib-bruising, salt-spray-settling-in-your-razor-burn boat I have ever been on has one thing in common: The galley and mess deck are right smack in the middle. Now this may only be a Coast Guard thing, but I think they do it for a reason. The galley is the center of the heart for any unit. Everyday the mess deck becomes the escape for every single non-cook crew member. At least once a day each person may choose to walk through the line, pick up their food, sit down and eat it. Through the whole process they are getting a hugely critical release from the everyday stresses of whatever their job entails. Even if they have to take their food off the mess deck, or if they take a box lunch with them away from the unit, there is always a measure of solace in that food.
Every boat I have ever been on has something else in common. A cook reports aboard and is told the same two things by the command. They always say that the food has a large impact on the morale of the crew, and that the cooks have a thankless job. I never understood these things (and I am not sure they did, either). First of all, I am thanked numerous times a day. I am thanked so much that I get bored with my response to it. Almost without exception every single crew member will thank you at least once per meal. It is simply because they are told the same thing when they get to a unit: “No one ever thanks the cooks, so you better say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ every time. After all, we don’t want our food to taste like Scope.”
I once cooked potatoes on my first buoy tender. They were roasted red potatoes. Now potatoes were something that I always hit out of the park, and my first trip on this boat I had the crew chant Three-Cheers because I didn’t serve Golf-Ball-Chunked-Mashed-Potatoes to them (apparently this was a problem before my arrival). These red potatoes were not my ordinary potatoes. Apparently I stayed to watch the Cubs game too long and these were more the texture of red apples instead. They were rock-hard undercooked. My department head walked up, as he always did, to thank me.
“How were the potatoes sir?” like I didn’t know.
“They were great Brandon!” trying to pretend like his jaw wasn’t sore.
Now I am not trying to say that no matter how lousy the food is, the crew won’t react negatively. The same guy that lead the crew in Three-Cheers also lead them in throwing of overcooked chicken back into the galley at me once….ONCE. The fact is that there are bound to be numerous occasions when negative reactions are bountiful. That’s the chemistry that is created when you put wound up people in a place where they can unwind. Their reaction to the environment – whether it be the food, the mood, the other crewmembers, or the TV – is clearly going to be over the top at times. It’s the moments when this boisterous activity is met with bad food that people remember as the cooks “really gettin’ it”. Thankless job? Hardly. It’s just rough and tumble sometimes.
Now for the morale – and this is where my answer always lies. Why am I a cook? Why am I still a cook? Why am I a Food Service Specialist?
Everyday people break for lunch. They file through that line to unwind. On a boat they also stop by the galley door to see how the cooks are doing occasionally. It’s bound to happen; the galley’s in the center of the boat, remember? Most mess decks also, even though discouraged in regulations, act as a main passageway through the ship. What’s for lunch? What time’s lunch? What’s dessert? What’s the soup? Can I have a cookie? Can I have the cookie dough!?!?! The milk machine’s empty.
Everyday people break for lunch, but the cooks never do. They simply can’t break for lunch. Even though they may sit down to eat, they never really leave their workspace. Nor do they step away from those they work with. So no matter how their day is going, they can’t simply go off to lunch to recharge or relax.
Every boat I have ever been on – every diesel-stinking, pitching-rolling, gut-busting, rib-bruising, salt-spray-settling-in-your-razor-burn boat I have ever been on has one thing in common: The galley and mess deck are right smack in the middle. Now this may only be a Coast Guard thing, but I think they do it for a reason. The galley is the center of the heart for any unit. Everyday the mess deck becomes the escape for every single non-cook crew member. At least once a day each person may choose to walk through the line, pick up their food, sit down and eat it. Through the whole process they are getting a hugely critical release from the everyday stresses of whatever their job entails. Even if they have to take their food off the mess deck, or if they take a box lunch with them away from the unit, there is always a measure of solace in that food.
Every boat I have ever been on has something else in common. A cook reports aboard and is told the same two things by the command. They always say that the food has a large impact on the morale of the crew, and that the cooks have a thankless job. I never understood these things (and I am not sure they did, either). First of all, I am thanked numerous times a day. I am thanked so much that I get bored with my response to it. Almost without exception every single crew member will thank you at least once per meal. It is simply because they are told the same thing when they get to a unit: “No one ever thanks the cooks, so you better say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ every time. After all, we don’t want our food to taste like Scope.”
I once cooked potatoes on my first buoy tender. They were roasted red potatoes. Now potatoes were something that I always hit out of the park, and my first trip on this boat I had the crew chant Three-Cheers because I didn’t serve Golf-Ball-Chunked-Mashed-Potatoes to them (apparently this was a problem before my arrival). These red potatoes were not my ordinary potatoes. Apparently I stayed to watch the Cubs game too long and these were more the texture of red apples instead. They were rock-hard undercooked. My department head walked up, as he always did, to thank me.
“How were the potatoes sir?” like I didn’t know.
“They were great Brandon!” trying to pretend like his jaw wasn’t sore.
Now I am not trying to say that no matter how lousy the food is, the crew won’t react negatively. The same guy that lead the crew in Three-Cheers also lead them in throwing of overcooked chicken back into the galley at me once….ONCE. The fact is that there are bound to be numerous occasions when negative reactions are bountiful. That’s the chemistry that is created when you put wound up people in a place where they can unwind. Their reaction to the environment – whether it be the food, the mood, the other crewmembers, or the TV – is clearly going to be over the top at times. It’s the moments when this boisterous activity is met with bad food that people remember as the cooks “really gettin’ it”. Thankless job? Hardly. It’s just rough and tumble sometimes.
Now for the morale – and this is where my answer always lies. Why am I a cook? Why am I still a cook? Why am I a Food Service Specialist?
Everyday people break for lunch. They file through that line to unwind. On a boat they also stop by the galley door to see how the cooks are doing occasionally. It’s bound to happen; the galley’s in the center of the boat, remember? Most mess decks also, even though discouraged in regulations, act as a main passageway through the ship. What’s for lunch? What time’s lunch? What’s dessert? What’s the soup? Can I have a cookie? Can I have the cookie dough!?!?! The milk machine’s empty.
Everyday people break for lunch, but the cooks never do. They simply can’t break for lunch. Even though they may sit down to eat, they never really leave their workspace. Nor do they step away from those they work with. So no matter how their day is going, they can’t simply go off to lunch to recharge or relax.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
…Service Specialist, Part I
Argumentative
One of the reasons I like sports so much is the overwhelming urge that comes over fans to discuss its happenings on an everyday basis. Yesterday part of our duty section was watching Pardon the Interruption on ESPN on the mess deck. The junior member of our group, no doubt disgusted with the argumentative nature of a subject that was pointless in her mind, asked us how we can stand to watch a show like that. The question struck me as funny because the show was covering basketball at the time, and even though I don’t ever watch basketball I was glued to the bantering.
The reason shows like PTI and Around the Horn are successful is the same reason that news shows are so successful: displaying opposing viewpoints on a topic allows people to jump on a side and feel passionate about the topic. Sports provides an even more charged atmosphere as you add in the good-guy/bad-guy mentality that naturally comes from having a favorite team or player. The innate counterpart of a favorite is something disliked or even hated. Pile on to this a rabid excitement that usually accompanies “life-long” fans and you have a recipe for great conversations into the night about SEC football vs. Big Ten football – or, Yankees: Dynasty or Best Money Can Buy – or, should Ryan Leaf have been drafted before Payton Manning. Okay maybe the last subject would never come up. You know what I am getting at.
The fact is that any amount of logical argument or debate over a subject will make the participants, at the most, more knowledgeable of the details. At the least, it makes them more aware of the topic itself. It is the same reason that 6 of my last 9 weeks of SQL and RDBM class dealt with planning and not coding. Planning also makes its contributors more intimate with details and aware of the situation.
I was asked once why I became a cook. This question comes up quite a bit, actually. The response is usually a well rehearsed “Well, I did the whole Mac & Cheese and Top Ramen thing pretty well… and I used to serve people hot chocolate in college…”. This particular time was different. This time it was with the inference that I am above this job – that I am smart enough to be anything, so why this? Let me break it down for you:
At its core, and in its generally perceived state, a Food Service Specialist has a very simple job: put out decent quality food on time, clean up, and go home. I can’t put it any more mundanely simple than that. Now let me tell you what I do.
I come in to work early – it’s not always as early as the horror stories claim either. There’s a rough sketch of a plan when I get there. A finite amount of meals need to be prepped and served before the day is up. Recipes may be needed for these meals. There is a certain amount of food that may (or may not) need to be procured. Cleaning needs to get done. Paperwork that tracks all of this will need to be updated. From the moment I wake up, and sometimes from the previous day, I am working through all of these details, trying to picture how I will pick through these various tasks. Mind you, this is not a dwelling on the details, but merely a constant ambient thought of things that must be done.
Early in my cooking days when paperwork and procurement were not a part of my daily routine, most of my planning and thought came from recipes. I have to get this item in the oven by this time, which means I need to start prepping it at this time, which means I have to stop watching the Cubs game at 3:30. My focus on planning in my recent career springs from two places. First, I have a need for survival. Once the day starts there is a pending list of quandaries that will be encountered. Whether it be from missing brown sugar, a dropped bottle of cooking wine, or 8-12 foot seas, there is always something that comes up requiring me to know what to do next. By planning ahead – or rather, by knowing the details as a result of planning ahead, I can use my built in problem-solving, crisis-management machine to work things out.
Second, somewhere along the line, (and I blame this on FS1 Faria, a handful of non-rates, and a spackling of Boatswains Mates) I developed a sense of ownership over my work. At what point this took over for my laziness as the controlling factor in my work ethic, I’m not exactly sure. The fact is, I can’t stand to have my food suck. I need to have it be great. People say you can please some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can never please all of the people all of the time. Bullshit. That’s like saying I can’t get a 100 on a medical inspection. Maybe they should reword that to be a little more half-full. You can’t please all the people all the time, but you damn sure better be trying if you’re their cook.
One of the reasons I like sports so much is the overwhelming urge that comes over fans to discuss its happenings on an everyday basis. Yesterday part of our duty section was watching Pardon the Interruption on ESPN on the mess deck. The junior member of our group, no doubt disgusted with the argumentative nature of a subject that was pointless in her mind, asked us how we can stand to watch a show like that. The question struck me as funny because the show was covering basketball at the time, and even though I don’t ever watch basketball I was glued to the bantering.
The reason shows like PTI and Around the Horn are successful is the same reason that news shows are so successful: displaying opposing viewpoints on a topic allows people to jump on a side and feel passionate about the topic. Sports provides an even more charged atmosphere as you add in the good-guy/bad-guy mentality that naturally comes from having a favorite team or player. The innate counterpart of a favorite is something disliked or even hated. Pile on to this a rabid excitement that usually accompanies “life-long” fans and you have a recipe for great conversations into the night about SEC football vs. Big Ten football – or, Yankees: Dynasty or Best Money Can Buy – or, should Ryan Leaf have been drafted before Payton Manning. Okay maybe the last subject would never come up. You know what I am getting at.
The fact is that any amount of logical argument or debate over a subject will make the participants, at the most, more knowledgeable of the details. At the least, it makes them more aware of the topic itself. It is the same reason that 6 of my last 9 weeks of SQL and RDBM class dealt with planning and not coding. Planning also makes its contributors more intimate with details and aware of the situation.
I was asked once why I became a cook. This question comes up quite a bit, actually. The response is usually a well rehearsed “Well, I did the whole Mac & Cheese and Top Ramen thing pretty well… and I used to serve people hot chocolate in college…”. This particular time was different. This time it was with the inference that I am above this job – that I am smart enough to be anything, so why this? Let me break it down for you:
At its core, and in its generally perceived state, a Food Service Specialist has a very simple job: put out decent quality food on time, clean up, and go home. I can’t put it any more mundanely simple than that. Now let me tell you what I do.
I come in to work early – it’s not always as early as the horror stories claim either. There’s a rough sketch of a plan when I get there. A finite amount of meals need to be prepped and served before the day is up. Recipes may be needed for these meals. There is a certain amount of food that may (or may not) need to be procured. Cleaning needs to get done. Paperwork that tracks all of this will need to be updated. From the moment I wake up, and sometimes from the previous day, I am working through all of these details, trying to picture how I will pick through these various tasks. Mind you, this is not a dwelling on the details, but merely a constant ambient thought of things that must be done.
Early in my cooking days when paperwork and procurement were not a part of my daily routine, most of my planning and thought came from recipes. I have to get this item in the oven by this time, which means I need to start prepping it at this time, which means I have to stop watching the Cubs game at 3:30. My focus on planning in my recent career springs from two places. First, I have a need for survival. Once the day starts there is a pending list of quandaries that will be encountered. Whether it be from missing brown sugar, a dropped bottle of cooking wine, or 8-12 foot seas, there is always something that comes up requiring me to know what to do next. By planning ahead – or rather, by knowing the details as a result of planning ahead, I can use my built in problem-solving, crisis-management machine to work things out.
Second, somewhere along the line, (and I blame this on FS1 Faria, a handful of non-rates, and a spackling of Boatswains Mates) I developed a sense of ownership over my work. At what point this took over for my laziness as the controlling factor in my work ethic, I’m not exactly sure. The fact is, I can’t stand to have my food suck. I need to have it be great. People say you can please some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you can never please all of the people all of the time. Bullshit. That’s like saying I can’t get a 100 on a medical inspection. Maybe they should reword that to be a little more half-full. You can’t please all the people all the time, but you damn sure better be trying if you’re their cook.
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