Fort Rucker, our current station, is basically the Old Pig's Balls of the country. They are sweaty. Gross. And they don't make bacon. What good are they.
But I stayed focused on the bright shining new station of the future. Hopefully it's that bright because it's in Hawaii or Colorado. BUT WHO KNOWS, ADVENTURE AWAITED!
Instead we're once again getting sent to the middle of no where.
Look. It's not even on a map. It's eclipsed by the city of Juarez, Mexico which is Cartel Land. I hear they have the best Trade School for drug smuggling.
I have every right to be upset right? So I sat around seething and having a pity party all day.
And then I called Grandma.
And then Grandma verbally, and ever so nicely, punched me in the neck for being a pain in the ass.
Now take a look at my Grandma. Sweet, wonderful looking lady right?
This is how I imagined her at the other end though.
And I'll admit. Well deserved.
So Grandma told me to stop being a whiner, and here's why:
When Grandma was about 20 she got married and moved to Okinawa to be with my Papa who was in the Airforce during a time where everyone served. She was there for two and a half years. (Paraphrased)
Me: Well at least you could travel to cool places. Where are the fun weekend trips from EL PASO Grandma, JUAREZ?!
Grandma: I didn't go ANYWHERE. I was on the island the entire time.
Me: Tokyo is right there compared to everything! If we were in Korea we'd get to go on all sorts of cool vacations!
Grandma: Tokyo was a thousand miles away.
I might add that air travel pretty much didn't happen out there in the 1950s, and to get to Okinawa Grandma took a several week boat ride from Seattle to even get there.
Alright Grandma. Your point.
Me: But there's going to be nothing to do! I won't have a job. If they cared even a little about the wives they'd let me go to Colorado or Germany and I can work!
Grandma: El Paso is a huge city. There are tons of things you can do. I didn't have a job for 2.5 years because there WERN'T any jobs.
Point 2 Grandma
I might also add that Grandma used to keep in contact with Papa's mother by letter. They only were allowed to use the phone a few times during that entire time and it was expensive. To learn Great Grandma Rose's famous meatball and sauce recipe, Great Grandma would write out the recipe and send it. It took three weeks to get there. Grandma would try it, say it didn't taste right and right a letter back, which took three weeks. This went on and on and one for basically the entire trip.
Based on that alone there were a slew of arguments I never dared to bring up.
And it went on like this until I had no argument but to say "BUT I DONT WANT TO GO" to which grandma would tell me to buck up and quit being a wimp, in so many words.
I walked away from the argument with my tail between my legs a bit because I had wanted to extend my pity party, but in the end Grandma is right. El Paso might not be my first choice, but it probably won't be so bad.
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