Stupid Kevin Tricks, Vol 35, Ed 142

Have you ever noticed that when your skin is wet, it doesn't slide very easily through cotton clothing? Have you ever suddenly realized you were late and jumped in and out of the shower with barely enough time for the water to reach your feet? Have you ever been in a hurry after you get out of the shower and not totally dried off before you start throwing your clothes on? Have you ever lifted your leg up and then tried to thrust it downward through the leg-hole of your underwear, only your wet skin snags on the cotton and causes your foot to come to a rapid stop, while the downward momentum of the thrust of your leg causes you to lose your balance while your legs are stuck in a figure-4 pattern and gone crashing to the ground? THUD.

No?

Me neither.

If anything as embarassing as that ever happened to me, I would have to create a new, anonymous blog to write about it so all five of you who read this blog wouldn't die laughing at me.

Another purely hypothetical question: Why is it, if something like that ever actually happened, that the world seems to slow down and your life flashes before your eyes? Actually, the last time I wrote about this phenomenon, it wasn't my life that flashed before my eyes, but a prediction of the future (how many bones I was going to break, which hospital they were going to take me to, etc).

Thank God shiftwork will be over soon. I need a day off.

Life in Decom

Decom is a sad time for a warship.

Standing at the door to AMR (Auxiliary Machinery Room) I can look all the way aft and see the forward bulkhead of the Reactor Compartment. I'd say that's about 30 feet of open space. All the atmosphere control equipment like the CO2 scrubbers, the oxygen generator, and the CO-H2 burners have been removed.

Forward crew's berthing looks like a cavern with all the racks removed. There's enough space in there to set up a pool table and a foosball table.

I spend most of my time nowadays in the Engine Room, but when I walk through the forward end of the boat, it brings back a flood of memories from when this great warship was at sea on the pointy-end of the spear, thousands of miles from any friendly bases for support.

The ship's once soft, cool, homogenous fluorescent lighting is secured, and light is now provided by these harsh, hot, bare incandescent bulbs dangling every several feet from a shipyard temporary services cable.

As I sit down at what used to be my seat at the wardroom table, my mind doesn't see the bare walls dimly illuminated by the shipyard temporary lighting. My mind sees the rack that used to be there with all our personalized coffee cups. My mind sees the walls that used to be decorated with framed photos from wardroom outings we had in various ports. My mind sees the smiling faces of the other officers sitting around the table at lunch or dinner, laughing and sharing sea stories about past adventures or predictions about future adventures to come. I can see Admiral Donnelly kicking back on the bench when he paid us a surprise visit during our port call in Kings Bay. I see the cribbage board out on the table. I see the bright smiling faces of midshipmen eager to learn about what a career in the silent service has to offer. I see the Weps coming in and putting his can of wasabi nuts out on the table for us to share while we burned a flick. I see the blue and white checkered plastic table cloth the cooks always put down for breakfast (easier to clean up syrup spills).

As I walk up the middle level passageway, I see the firehoses and remember the dozens of times I got to don my SCBA and go fight imaginary fires. I also remember how close I was to winning the MSP Derby before the sonar chief's car ran my car off the track. (I was robbed!)

The control room isn't as cavernously empty as the berthing or the AMR, but still... the Dive, Helmsman, Planesman, and Chief of the Watch chairs are all gone. The periscopes are gone. The sonar and fire control screens are black. I remember many-a-midwatch at PD or on the surface when those screens were the source of light in the control room. [Other memories from the control room censored - I could tell ya, but then I'd have to kill ya].

It's quite a paradox being on a submarine. The best part about being a submariner is being at sea doing the cool tactical steely-eyed killer of the deep stuff that submariners do. Unfortunately, that comes with a sacrifice of time away from your family. So while I miss our time as an operational warship at sea, I am trying to focus on the positive aspect of enjoying the time with my family while we're in the shipyard.

Monday Night Food and Fitness

Food

Wow, what a difference! I had been getting headaches several days per week and burning through my Imitrex supply like they were Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies. They seemed to come on around lunchtime. Since I read that article in NY Times that Jud emailed me, I went through all the lunch food supplies I had in my office and found a LOT of "autolyzed yeast extract." I took all those things out, and I haven't had a headache since. THANK YOU JUD! (And thank you NY Times for the article!)

Since then, my new favorite lunch item from the commissary is the Progresso Lentil Soup. It says on the side in big bold letters "NO MSG" and doesn't have any of the disguised varieties either. AAAAAND I tastes pretty good, too. Often the stuff that meets all my dietary needs tastes like corrugated cardboard.

I'm not exactly proud of the fact that shiftwork has resulted in me being much too familiar with the nuances between the different McDonalds on the island. If I go to the McD's on base and order a large coffee with two creams, they actually put the cream in the coffee for you. However, their drive-through is frequently closed even though their posted hours say the drive through should be open. So I end up having to get out of my car and walk in (I know, I know, I can feel your sympathy for my plight oozing through my keyboard and into my fingers - not). If I go to the McD's just down the street from our house, the drive-through is always open, 24/7. Unfortunately, when I go there and order a large coffee with two creams, they hand me the large coffee, and then they hand me a little bag with two creamer packets and a stir stick. So which is worse? Having to park and walk in to order your coffee, or having to pull the lid off and put the creamer in yourself? I know, I know, if these are the least of my worries in life, then I've got it pretty good.

Fitness

Fitness? What is that? I vaguely recall something about this place people call a "gym," but it seems like so long ago. Until recently when ES and I started going on bike rides together, the only "exercise" I was getting was climbing the ladders up and down between levels in the Engine Room.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Talk about "can't teach an old dog new tricks"... Actually, this one might have to go in the file of "Stupid Kevin Tricks." Through years of experience, I have developed this confidence and physical ability to climb up and down the forward and aft escape trunk ladders while carrying things in one hand (coffee... notebook... small children... well, no small children in the AFT escape trunk, but you get the idea). Well, those years of experience were based on the "skirt" being in place. The skirt is this metal shield that is put there to create an area for divers to keep their head in an air pocket while they flood down, equalize, and open the escape trunk. Besides providing that shelter for divers, it also shrinks the size of the opening of the escape trunk and provides a handy smooth surface that you can lean your backside against as you reposition your one free hand on the ladder and continue your descent into the boat. When that skirt isn't there, and you let go with the one hand holding onto the ladder... there's nothing there to hold you up and you end up falling over [insert sound effect: "TIMBERRRRRR!"] until your back and elbow go crashing backwards a couple of feet into valves and pokey things sticking out of the side of the escape trunk. I wonder how many more times it will take me to unlearn the habit of leaning back into the skirt (since the skirt is removed / not there anymore).

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Not directly fitness related, but call it health and accident avoidance, I got a good laugh from this article one of my parental units sent me.

New Rims

Mommy's new glasses

LW just picked up her new glasses on Friday afternoon. She says she feels old. I think they look really nice on her (she won't let me take a picture).
(This is LW, here is one I took with the webcam this evening. He took like 5 of me yesterday but forgot to put the SD card back in the camera, not my fault!)

We were sitting in the family room watching Shrek the Third for family movie night on Friday. YB came over and climbed up on my lap. He looked across the room at LW and said, "Mommy, why are you wearing your sunglasses?" I explained to him that they weren't sunglasses, they were just Mommy's new glasses to help her see.

YB: [Blank stare] Huh?

Me: They're just like the glasses Daddy used to wear.

YB: [Blank stare] Huh?

Me: Don't you remember when Daddy used to wear glasses? [before laser surgery]

YB: [shakes head no]

Me: [A few points and clicks of the mouse on the laptop next to my chair to show him a picture of Daddy wearing glasses back in Virginia.] See, there's Daddy with glasses. Don't you remember when Daddy used to wear glasses?

YB: [Giggles and shakes head no]
Has it really been that long ago since my laser eye surgery??? May of 2005???

Yes, son, Daddy used to wear glasses...


* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Daddy's new ride

Given our past couple of experiences with slow-poke YB trying to go for a bike ride with ES and me, I thought it would be a great idea to get one of these Co-Pilot things and YB could just ride along with me. As it turns out, it's a little bit too big for YB. He can't reach the pedals, and he's a little scared / weirded-out by it. That's okay, he'll grow into it eventually.

ES on the other hand absolutely LOVES it! Every day I come home, he runs up to me with that I-want-something-don't-I-look-lovable-and-adorable look of his and tells me he wants to go for a bike ride with me. He freaked out a little bit by the bike banking into the turn the first time we went at a good pace around a corner, but he's getting used to it now. We started out just riding around the neighborhood to get used to it. We've been going out on the bike path and steadily increasing our mileage. First we did 2 miles to Best Buy and back. Then we did 5 miles to Pearl City and back. Today we did 6 miles out to where you could see the mothball fleet in Middle Loch. It's been a great workout for me, because I can ride at MY pace AND with the added weight of pulling ES behind me. He can pedal and help, but most of the time, I can hear the rapid-clicking from his pedals sitting idle. That's okay though, because he's having fun, we're having time together, and I'm getting good exercise out of it.

K's new ride

Update on the "trusty steed" jogging stroller / bike trailer I sold to the Eng: The Eng's daughter, K, is absolutely obsessed with it. After he bought it, he took it home and took K for a test ride in it and she LOVED it!!! She got really upset when he took her back home. That night she kept going back out to the garage and sitting in it she just thought it was SO cool.

You need to understand that Eng was taking her RUNNING with him. They would go for like a 2 mile run and she would make it about a mile and a half before he would have to pick her up and let her ride on his shoulders. Eng's wife said K didn't really LIKE running, but she did it anyway because it was time with her Daddy. So that being said, you can imagine how this new red chariot thing is just downright AWESOME in K's little mind, because now she can still have the quality time with her Daddy, but not do any work. :-).

Pokey face

In a new derivation of YB's pokey hair phrase, he declared I had "pokey face" Friday night. Because of the change in our shiftwork schedule, it had been a while since I shaved. He was sitting on my lap while we watched the movie and he kept patting my cheeks, smiling, and saying, "Daddy has pokey face."

Welcome to the Blogosphere!

I'd like to give a shout-out to Jud and say

Welcome to the blogosphere!

Jud happens to be my cousin, but more importantly, and in spite of being related to me, he and his awesome wife are very dear friends to me and LW. One of the things I miss about being stationed in California was being able to see them on a somewhat regular basis.

Jud grew up in Florida while I grew up in California, so we only saw each other once every several years growing up. When I moved to Groton for sub school and my first sea tour, Jud was going to NYU. During those first 9 months I lived in Groton (3 months in sub school and first 6 months on the boat), I used to go down to "the city" to watch Jud's NYU hockey team play on Friday nights at Chelsea Piers and then just hang out the rest of the weekend. We had a lot of fun and I really missed him when he graduated and abandoned me for the southwest.

I learned a couple of quirky, trivial, somewhat interesting lessons in life as a result of helping Jud move out of his apartment in Manhattan. First, there was the NY City recycling system. Most of the stuff in Jud's apartment that he didn't want to take with him wasn't of any significant monetary value, so we took it by the armload down to the curb in front of his building. By the time we went back upstairs, grabbed another armload, and brought it down to the curb, the first pile of stuff we had left was already gone! We're talking about the bottom half of a manequin, the wood he used to make his loft-bed, an old beat-up dresser... It gave new meaning to "Gone in 60 Seconds."

Second, it had never even crossed my mind to use the U.S. Postal Service as a moving company before. All of the things Jud valued and wanted to take with him, he packed into about a dozen boxes and addressed them to his new office in Utah. I had my ensign-mobile 1994, 4-door, Chevy S-10 Blazer, and it was like a 3-D jigsaw puzzle fitting all those boxes into the back of the car. We barely squeezed all the boxes in and headed over to the BIG post office across the street from Madison Square Garden. It was a holiday (Memorial Day), so we had to go to that post office since it was open 24/7/365. $330 in postage later, all of Jud's personal belongings were on their way to Utah. Heckuva lot cheaper than the U-Haul option. From there, I drove Jud over to Newark and dropped him off at the airport.

I overcame my feelings of betrayal that Jud left me. God had a plan for each of us. If he hadn't left NY, then I might not have started going to hang out in Boston (too many weirdos in NY), and I soon met LW and started spending most weekends (at least when I wasn't on duty) in Boston. Likewise, Jud needed to go to Utah so he could meet the love of his life, Jill. I was honored Jud came all the way back to Boston to participate in my wedding two years later, and I was very sad that I was on deployment and unable to attend Jud's wedding.

After finishing my first sea tour in Groton, we moved to Monterey, California. We stopped to visit them on our way driving across country. Again later, we went out to visit them. We were out at dinner at a nice Japanese steakhouse, and LW and I noticed Jill wasn't partaking of any tasty alcoholic beverages about the same time Jud and Jill noticed LW wasn't partaking of any tasty alcoholic beverages either. It just so happened that Jill got pregnant right around the same time LW got pregnant. Several months after that, we all met up down in Pismo Beach on the central California coast for a "babymoon" (last hoorah getaway before the trials and tribulations of parenthood consumed our lives) and had a wonderful weekend together down there.

Jill and LW in Pismo Beach, Spring 2001

LW went a couple of weeks past her due date, and the doctor agreed to induce labor based on the fact we were supposed to leave Monterey for Groton again in 4 weeks. It just so happened that Jill went into labor early, and by some bizarre coincidence, our first born sons were both born on the EXACT same day.

For the next few years, we were stationed in San Diego and periodically visited with Jud, Jill, and Ethan. It was just so cool to watch ES and Ethan growing and developing considering they had been born the same day. We visited them in Utah a couple of times, and they visited us in San Diego several times. Plus we all met up in Long Beach for my sister's wedding. We had a fun little quiet-party sitting in the hallway of our hotel outside our rooms drinking some tasty beverages while we waited for the boys to go to sleep in the room with the lights off.

ES & his pal Ethan after a long day at Sea World in 2002

I have very much missed living close enough to Jud & Jill that we could visit them more regularly, but we continue to keep in touch thanks to the wonders of the internet. We have each had a second son (not born on the same day this time, but still pretty close in age). I hope our paths will cross again soon so Jud & Jill can meet YB and we can meet Max.

Anyway, so much for the trip down memory lane.

In addition to being a dear friend and relative, Jud is also a fantastic photographer. He's earned all sorts of awards including the 1999 Thompson Newspaper's Photographer of the Year and the Society of Professional Journalists Photographer of the Year awards in 2004-2006. You can check out some of his awesome photographs on his website at www.judburkett.com, and if you'd like to check out his new blog, click here.

A long week compounded by 4-year old rhetoric

I've had better weeks.

First, PRAISE THE LORD, my step-brother Dave's guardian angel was with him this morning when he was in a terrible car accident. Some idiot pulled out in front of him on his way to school, and he nearly T-boned the dude. (This is the same wonderful "Uncle Dave" who got the boys to eat their peas when he was here visiting at Christmas)> From my step-mother:

"At the last second before impact Dave swerved and hit the left front quarter panel of the guys car – otherwise would have T-Boned him. The impact put the engine of Dave’s car in the passenger compartment and flooded his feet with anti-freeze. Dave turned his head also at the last second as he has an aversion to airbags going off in his face (this is #3) so his neck is wrenched also. There were 10 witnesses that told the cops it was not Dave’s fault. Dave’s car is totaled. Cop told Dave he “did a good job”. Dave takes that to mean that by swerving he didn’t kill the guy. Dave wouldn’t go look in the guy’s car as he believed the guy might be dead; he was bleeding from the nose & ears when the firemen finished cutting the guy out of his car with the “jaws of life”. They did update Dave in the hospital that they had taken the man off the ‘critical’ list and he’s in “serious” condition so he didn’t die."

Thankfully, Dave will be okay. He severely sprained his wrist and his bad knee hit something.

Picture of Dave's Car from the Newspaper

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Second, there's life on shiftwork...

As the midwatch guy, I've been going to work at 9 p.m. and coming home at 8 a.m. (except for yesterday when I had to go to the critique at 9 a.m., but luckily made it home by 10 a.m.). I'm thankful that shipyard things have been progressing very well, and I expect we will finish with shiftwork well before we had planned. (Knock on wood)

Basically, I come home in the morning a totally exhausted zombie. I grunt at my wife and the one son who isn't at school (or both sons on the weekend). I eat my cereal (my digestive system needs the fiber) and drag myself into bed. I've got black plastic trash bags tacked up over the windows to keep the light out. (LW complained that she overslept because it was SO dark in our room). I get up at dinner time in my normal morning-groggy state. After dinner, I would cajole ES into practicing his spelling, give the boys a bath, read bedtime stories, put the boys to bed, take my shower, get my coffee, and leave for work.

Meanwhile, poor LW has been suffering from a lack of adult conversation, and our children have been acting like heathen savages and driving her absolutely bonkers. To make matters worse, YB has had a fever and conjunctivitis all week. This means that not only did LW not get the break from YB she normally gets when I used to be home on the weekend, but also that she didn't get the break from YB going to pre-school on Tuesday and Thursday. Every little thing has become a major argument with YB. It's nearly impossible to get him to follow instructions.

Last night, I slept late because I went to bed late after the critique. I woke up to LW throwing the bedroom door open and declaring she couldn't take it anymore. I dragged my butt down to find the colossal mess that Hurricane YB had made in the family room. LW was tired and cranky and not in the mood to make dinner (not that I blame her in the least), so I asked the boys what they wanted for dinner. If you've either known us or read my blog for any period of time, you already know what YB's answer was... chicken nuggets. So I got in the car and went to the drive-through and brought home a highly nutritious fast-food dinner for us. We set the food out on the table and sit down to eat, and YB proceeds to pull his arms into his shirt. YB, what are you doing? He's cold. Okay, well eat your chicken nuggets and it'll warm you up. Nope. In spite of repeated requests by me and LW to sit down and eat his nuggets (which he asked for), he just meandered around the kitchen with his arms bundled up inside his shirt. So we go upstairs to take a bath, and by this time YB is wearing his shirt normally with his arms out. I tell YB to "get naked," and he makes feeble tugs at his arm sleeves and says he can't get his shirt off. Um... Didn't he JUST demonstrate the ability to pull his arms into his sleeves when he was "cold" and didn't want to eat the nuggets I had slaved so hard on shiftwork to earn the money to buy at Mickey-D's???

After bathtime, I was trying to get ES to practice his spelling, and YB kept jumping up and down on the couch in spite of repeated orders by both LW and myself to stop. All of a sudden... there was this new noise coming from the couch... LW and I simultaneously looked over at the couch, and YB was laying flat on his belly, eyes closed and SNORING louder than a chainsaw. ...It was 7:30 p.m.

After nightly battles with ES to practice his spelling, I finally got a reprieve, although unbeknownst to him. He took the spelling word list from me and took his dry-erase board in the other room giggling. He came back and handed me the spelling word list and said he was ready and giggled some more. I told him to spell "fly." He giggled, looked on the back side of his two-sided dry-erase board where he had copied all the words off his spelling list, then flipped it back over and wrote down the word on the side I could see. I suppose being the man of integrity that I am, I should be ashamed at him since he obviously THOUGHT he was cheating by copying the words on the back of the board first. In reality though, he just got MORE practice and wrote his spelling words TWICE instead of the ONCE I normally get out of him through a lot of bribery and threats.

Now, I'm rotating to the day-shift. The CO is going on a TAD trip, so I needed to be able to respond to whatever crises came up during the day. I finished my last midwatch this morning, and I have go to back to work tomorrow morning to start the day shift. I need to go to sleep tonight and get up for work tomorrow morning, but I was exhausted so I just took a nap for a couple of hours after I got home.

When I woke up, I got another lesson in 4-year old rhetoric. He asked for a cheese sandwich for lunch, so LW made him a cheese sandwich. Did he eat it? Of course not! He refuses to eat it. He says he's not hungry. Next thing we know, he's standing at the kitchen counter, reaching for the cookie jar.

Mean Parents: No, YB, you can't have a cookie.
YB: [insert high-pitched whining noise here] But whyyyyyyyyy?
MP: Because you didn't eat your sandwich, and you just said you weren't hungry.
YB: Huh??? [This clearly does not pass the 4-year old's logic circuitry.]
MP: If you're not hungry then you don't need to eat a cookie. If you're hungry, then eat your sandwich.
YB: [Resume high-pitched whining noise] But I don't like that kind of cheese.
MP: It's the SAME cheese Mommy used to make his cheese sandwich yesterday and he liked it. YB: No, it's not, I don't like it.
MP: Fine, whatever.

LW and I resume eating our lunch. YB proceeds to take all the cheese off his cheese sandwich and just start to eat the bread.

YB: Mmmm, cheese bread.
LW: No, it's just bread.
YB: No, it's cheesy bread, feel it.
LW: [touches the bread] No, it's just bread. You took the cheese off.
YB: But it's cold! [That is apparently what makes it "cheesy bread" accoring to 4-year old logic]
LW: It's... just... bread.

This is what the whole week has been like for LW.

In other news...

My cousin emailed me this article about MSG. OMG...

Since the 1970s, MSG has sidled back onto American supermarket shelves, under assumed names: hydrolyzed proteins, yeast extracts, protein concentrates and other additives that are not labeled as MSG but, according to nutritionists and the United States Department of Agriculture, are essentially the same thing: synthetically produced glutamates.

The whey protein concentrate and liquid aminos that many Americans buy at health food stores are also, essentially, pure glutamate, Dr. Chaudhari said.

According to U.S.D.A. guidelines, “labeling is required when MSG is added as a direct ingredient.” But other glutamates — the hydrolyzed proteins, the autolyzed yeasts and the protein concentrates, which the U.S.D.A. acknowledges are related to MSG — must be identified under their own names.

I think I'm getting a headache just thinking about it...

Dolphin Scholarship Auction

In any given submarine home port, there are a few big ticket events you can count on each year: the Navy Birthday Ball in October, the Submarine Birthday Ball in April, and the Dolphin Scholarship Auction sometime in the winter. Saturday night was the Dolphin Scholarship Auction here in Pearl Harbor.

For those who aren't familiar with this tradition, here's a quick explanation. The Dolphin Scholarship Foundation gives scholarships to the children of submariners and those who have supported the submarine force (submarine bases and submarine tenders for example). From the DSF website:

Beginning in the 2007-2008 academic year, Dolphin Scholarship Foundation will award 137 scholarships of $3,250 per year to each Dolphin Scholar. Each recipient may potentially receive a total of $13,000 for up to four years of undergraduate study. The number of new awards granted each year is determined by graduation and attrition of current Dolphin Scholars. Dolphin Scholarship Foundation is proud to have awarded in excess of 6.6 million dollars to almost 1000 students attending universities and colleges through the United States.

The two biggest annual fund raisers for DSF are the cartoon calendar and the auction.

For the calendars, every year they have a contest for people to draw submarine related cartoons, and the top 12 winners are put into the DSF calendar that they sell in the fall. Several years ago they published a nice hard-bound book of the cartoons - you can find it listed on Amazon here.

For the auction, every submarine homeport has a charity auction in the late winter / early spring. The local Submarine Officers Wives Club (SOWC) solicits donations for both a silent auction (for items valued less than $500) and a verbal auction (for items valued more than $500). Traditionally, each submarine wardroom puts together a themed-package and donates it to the auction. The evening of the auction is usually a pretty big event and a big deal.

This year's theme in Pearl Harbor was A Night on the Red Carpet and was made up to be like a night at the Oscars. It was really well organized - my compliments to the SOWC ladies who organized it.

The silent auction had a bunch of nicely framed classic submarine movie posters, paintings, crafts, and gift certificates to local stores, restaurants, and attractions.

In the Silent Auction, one of my JO's bought a ginormous painting of a submarine doing an emergency blow. I'm not sure where he's going to find space to hang it in his townhouse, but then, I know I've got more stuff to hang on my walls than I have walls to hang them on, too.

For the big ticket items, the most coveted is the 2-Star Party - wine tasting and dinner with the admiral at his house on Ford Island while being served by the CSP N-heads (O-6 dept heads). My wardroom pooled our money and put a bid on it, but we didn't win. Some of the other items in the verbal auction were:

- A really nice framed print of USS WAHOO in her final resting place in the La Perouse Strait north of Japan. Granted, it was a little morbid, but it was really well done. It ended up selling for $800!!

- A paintball party (admission for like a dozen people and all the equipment and paintballs you needed), there was a very nicely stocked humidore.

Aside: Note that many of these package deals you see at the Dolphin Scholarship auctions are for a group of around 15 or more people so that the members of a wardroom can chip in and buy a party for their wardroom to do together.

- A very nicely stocked 50 bottle wine fridge that went for like $900.

- There were a couple of packages that included a room at the Turtle Bay resort for the night of the Submarine Birthday Ball (April 19th). LW and I sure would like to get a room at the hotel that night so we don't have to drive all the way back from the northern tip of the island, but they want like $240 per room and that just seems a little too steep for me. I wonder how much a cab ride would cost?

- A nice, patriotic, hand-made quilt that went for like $1300.

- A couple of golf related items like a set of custom golf clubs and a day of golf at a nice course on the island.

- A round trip fare for two on the Super Ferry to Maui and a rental car on the island.

- I think the theme I liked the most in the verbal auction was the USS KEY WEST's "Casablanca" package. I forget all the details of the stuff in their package, but the theme was based on the movie Casablanca, and it included a nice dinner at a local Morroccan restaurant for like twenty people.

Aside: I had never seen the movie Casablanca until fairly recently. It's one of my CO's favorite movies, so we watched it in the wardroom one night underway. It was actually pretty good, and now I understand why it's such a "classic." It was also interesting hearing how many famous one-liners that are part of our everday culture come from that movie.

Anyway, LW has been sick and had a fever, so she stayed home while I went to the auction Saturday night. I had to leave the auction early anyway in order to go to work, so I didn't get to see how much our package went for or who won the 2-Star party with the admiral. I was glad I went for the little bit that I got to see though. Like I said, it was very well organized and excuted by the SOWC.