Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Hello everybody!

It is once again time for Kurt's joyous look at life from the perspective of the lowly Psyop Specialist down here in increasingly sunny El Salvador. Thank you Grandma and Grandpa for boosting my confidence in my ever growing writing career. It has propted me to write yet again. Not much has happened since I had last rambled, but that's just from my point of view. Mo and I just came off our third mission here, once again supporting the Keystone Medics. Actually, this one wasn't so irritating as the last...that's because we stayed away from areas with a High Stupidity Factor, or HSF for short.

The HSF is a measurement of the collective intelligence, common sense, patience, and ego in any given area. Several things can occur to make the HSF skyrocket. In small groups HSF is less common, but not unheard of. Small groups with low intelligence, low common sense, no patience, and any given ego size is the most dangerous (Hey Bubba, watch this!). A large group of the same determining factors is also dangerous, reacting with a confused pointlessness (a group of cows/people standing in a feild/Wal-mart) or with disorderly violence (Stampeding cattle/people). But the stupid aren't the only ones who can suffer from HSF. A small group with high intelligence, medium to low common sense, patience at any level, and extremely big egos suffer from HSF (each in-duh-vidual thinks that he or she is the smartest and most important). The one group in which I am becoming a subject matter expert in has high intelligence, low common sense, various levels of patience, and big egos. This one is most commonly found in large groups of "professionals" for example, Army doctors.

This time, Mo and I played it smart; we stayed close to the Civil Affairs element. There's nothing like having a LTC pulling for you, especially if he hates HSF as much as you do. We also made friends with the Sonsonate military base commander. In other words, we were treated very well. I can't say any more, at least not here, least it incriminate me and my associates. It pays to know the 'King'.

This time, we sat around a lot. That was fine by me. Of course, Mo and I did our job, broadcasting the places and times for the Medical mission, talking with the people, all that jazz...but there was this nice little shop with a hammock... I did practice my Spanish a lot. I'm up to talking with adults. And out of boredom, I read an entire Salvadorian newspaper. The sports section was interesting, if not monotonous. I never thought you could fill 12 pages with nothing but soccer. Goal!

I was so tired when we returned. Its a two hour drive from Sonsonate to Cuma Lapa. And with the Medics in charge of the convoy...lets just say 40 miles an hour. Full speed ahead!

Ever had one of those days where you have no hand/eye coordination? Ever had one of those days where you have no coordination at all? I'm less than graceful when rested, yesterday, I was a walking disaster. I have more cuts, scrapes, bruises, and other minor injuries right now then I can ever remember having at any other time in my life. My cot beat the feces out of me last night while I was trying to set it up. I also found every hard or pointy part of a humvee with various parts of my body, more often than not, with my skull. Don't try to live while sleepy.

I slept for 13 hours last night. It was refreshing. From 1900 to 0800. I'll tell you what. Those drugs we're all taking to help us from contracting some strange disease are doing some trippy things to my dreams. I wish I could keep taking them. Better than TV.

I think I'm going to make a sign to hang around my neck. You all have probably seen a variation of it hanging around in offices and school rooms. The sign will read,"poor planning and lack of communication on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part." That pretty much summed up this morning. And with Psyop involved, playing a very small part in this morning's tragic comedy I might add, became the scapegoat. What's new?

Author's Note: At this point the previously mentioned author was unexpectedly but gladly interrupted to participate in a covert movement to the civilian airport for money and food operations. I got 500 colones (60 US ducks) and some chicken and fries. I'm in business now.

It is now time for me to end this whenever-I-feel-like-it tirade. Mo needs to use the computer to send a sitrep to Fearless Leader (CPT Christie) in Nicaragua. Well, until the next time the urge to write hits me, I bid you all, a fond farewell.

With love and other mushy stuff,
Kurt