Tuesday, July 23, 2013

CAPTAIN RYAN’S DIARIES OF A MILITARY HOUSEMALE


After two adventures abroad exploring an abundance of new territories, restaurants, and health care systems, Captain Ryan will go quietly into that good night and try his hand at domesticity. During my time in Norfolk, I will fulfill the duties entrusted to any obedient house elf (cleaning, cooking, groveling, etc.) while trying to prepare for my final semester at Hogwarts. It’s my hope that this experience will also provide the motivation I need after graduation to endear myself to potential employers with my self-discipline and superior groveling. As I’m sure the following little-known facts about the military housemale lifestyle will show, the life of a glorified Alfred can be challenging and exciting, particularly if your normal responsibilities are limited to bi-weekly self-grooming.


“I swore to your muvva and favva that I would protect you from the dangers of stovetop cooking, Miss Baggett.”

You invent chores for yourself

In the future, I will detail what a normal day in the life of a military housemale is like, but for the time being, let’s just say that I wake up early enough to watch the ever-present Canadian geese sleeping before a busy day of indiscriminate pooping. The geese that is. I am very discriminating about such behavior. The point is, since I don’t have a “job” per-se, my daily activities are largely based around completing chores, studying and self-improvement, and whimsical housemale endeavors (read: videogames). As such, after a long day of Navying, Rachel will often ask what I’ve been up to that day. On a productive day when a lot of chores need to be done, I can respond confidently with a list of accomplishments and expect an appreciative pat on the head or sometimes even a milkbone. On days when I have little to do around the apartment (and the number of daily chores in a small apartment is surprisingly finite), conversations may go something like this:

Rachel: “So what did you do today?”
Tyler: “I…recalibrated the TV. And dusted the pillows.”
Rachel: “Oh cool! What’s the TV do differently now?”
Tyler: “…It starts with the PS3 showing instead of the TV shows.”
Rachel: “So you played videogames all day?
Tyler: “Yes…”

And then I’ll get sent to my room with no dinner. But the joke’s on her because then she has to cook it herself. The moral of the story is to make sure your military significant other is technologically illiterate so you can spout off an endless stream of “upgrades” to your home entertainment system as your daily chores.

 
Jackpot.

You learn the minute differences between local stores

The greater Virginia Beach area is unique in that it has literally an infinite number of Food Lions and no two are the same. For instance, the apartment I’m Alfreding for has two doors: a porch door and a front door. Stepping onto the porch provides a beautiful vista overlooking the neighborhood Food Lion. Except for the apartment of those softheaded stooges in 205, walking out the front door would provide another magnificent perspective of a completely different neighborhood Food Lion. They are separated by less than a mile. They are also as similar as pecan pies and cow pies.

 
Although sometimes I wonder…

The preferred Food Lion is inaccessible walking, but boasts employees with vocabularies exceeding 5 grunts, produce without claw marks, and shopping carts from this century. The other Food Lion does not boast any of these things. In fact, the only thing it boasts about is its diverse selection of turkey boasters on Aisle 3. But I can walk there, so there’s that. The geese even greet me as I walk by with a chorus of honks and a fresh batch of goose pies.

Social activities are a luxury

Being new to the area and not a member of any socially acceptable institutions (Rachel dies a little inside when I talk about my Solitaire club), my social life is entirely dependent on my military significant other’s activities. Like a puppy/house elf hybrid, I eagerly await adventures outside with my master. Sometimes I get introduced to new people and sometimes I get to see old friends again, but I never stop eagerly licking strangers’ faces. As a military housemale, during the day I may be left alone in my crate at home, especially if I didn’t complete the compulsory number of chores the prior day.

 
“Better stick this back in the fork slot before Rachel notices.”


As far as I know, normal people tend to be occupied during crate hours, so in the evenings and on the weekends, I relish my opportunities to interact with other military folks. Hopefully this will change since I’ve recently joined a rowing club. Although half of the members are collecting Social Security at this point, there are a number of college-aged students who may also be free during the day and willing to take a housemale for a walk or squirrel chasing. So for you potential military house-creatures out there, remember, the Alfred lifestyles has a variety of perks, but you will need to find ways to be productive, self-entertaining creatures of society during the day. Just remember to turn off the electricity before returning utensils to their respective slots.




Wednesday, July 10, 2013

CLASH OF THE CONTINENTS Pt. 3: RETURN OF THE CAPTAIN

CLASH OF THE CONTINENTS Pt. 3: RETURN OF THE CAPTAIN

The third and final installment of this year’s Clash of the Continents is brought to you by American Airlines (“You are now free to be delayed indefinitely”) and the United States Custom Officials (“Please hold” ™). The standard scoring system will again by used this time around, utilizing a 1-10 scale of MADS (Martin Avoids Death). I think we can all safely say that George R.R. Martin will do a better job of death-dodging than the guests at his Red Wedding. Zing! Oh, I slay me. But in all seriousness that was a sad episode and we should all try to forget about Walder Frey (“Full Lannister flavor, half the spine™) and his asshattery by having a nice chuckle at these cultural differences.

THINGS ARGENTINA GOT RIGHT:

Airlines:

Technically speaking, I’ve started this whole post with a lie because Argentina’s airline, Aerolineas, is objectively terrible from business standpoint, and I have no experience actually using their services. Aerolineas consistently posts losses and only survives thanks to heavy government subsidies. Aerolineas customers earn FrankenFlyer Miles and each safety briefing begins with prerecorded message from the CEO begging the customers to put them out of their misery by using LAN. LAN, on the other hand, is a fantastic airline based out of Chile that uses a revolutionary business model of buying planes from this century. Unlike American Airlines, which I’m convinced gets a perverse pleasure from issuing delays, LAN provides not only pleasant service with ample space and friendly flight attendants, but manages to depart and arrive at its destination in the same calendar year. If you will suffer an accounting metaphor (and suffer you will), American Airlines has clearly adopted an accrual basis method for its passengers, in that once the passengers have paid for their ticket, they are reported as having arrived at their destination on time. When they actually arrive is largely negligible, as any lost passengers can later be written off for a tax break or simply quarantined until they reach maturity. 6 MADS to the Argentine (or Chilean, whatever) airlines for performing their jobs in those dashing uniforms. Really stellar fashion sense, you guys.

Not NSA:

I believe this marks the first time I’ll actually get political on here, so I’ll try to make this as painful and uncomfortable as possible for everyone involved. As far as I know (you should never trust me), Argentina doesn’t have an elaborate system of phone monitoring in place. I imagine the Argentine government has better things to do than listen to friends discussing the latest futbol games, discussing business, or just boisterously yelling at each other over the phone. When militant terrorist groups think “Argentina,” the first thing that comes to mind is “Messi” and the second is “Messi-Arabia is a place?” So Argentina admittedly doesn’t rank very highly on terrorist target lists (somewhere below McDonald’s but above a large penguin colony) but they still manage to avoid violating some basic civil liberties, probably. And that “probably” is more than we can say in the United States with all the information about PRISM and the NSA coming out. 7 MADS to Argentine for either not having a government-run surveillance program or just having the wherewithal to hide it properly. Phew, that was uncomfortable. Let’s transition into a less controversial topic. Like Jesus.

Popes:

Ha, the old politics-religion 1-2. You suckers never saw this one coming, even with that heavy foreshadowing. I’m like the M. Night Shyamalan of mediocre blogging. Pope Francis (an Argentine for those of you who still haven’t grasped the core concept of this article) is like the loose cannon rogue who doesn’t play by the rules in every buddy cop movie. The Catholic Cardinals went out on a limb by electing the first non-European to Popedom, and boy are they probably regretting that affirmative action now. Francis is working his Pope grind with an old-school twist, calling for decreased spending, more accountability, and charitable work. His Holiness has eschewed the traditional splendor of Popehood for more modest vestments and accommodations and has even expressed his disappointment at priests and nuns who drive fancy new cars. This New Pope (“Enjoy Popa-cola” ™) has all of the zest and carbonation of Old Pope but has been reformulated to be palatable to a wider audience. With Argentines leading the Catholic Church and the futbol world, it’s safe to say that Argentina has established itself as the most Latin American country in the world. 9 MADS to Argentina for being God’s representative both on and off the pitch.

WHAT AMERICA GOT RIGHT:

Interstates:

So we decided to drive to Iguazu Falls in Argentina this one time because black market kidneys are cheaper than flights and busses smell funny. It was an 18-hour drive one-way, which sounds terrible, but that’s because you’re not thinking negatively enough. To get anywhere in Argentina, you have to use highways and to use the highways you need to have zero regard for your sanity or the safety of your passengers. Sometimes, the GPS tells you that driving on a dirt road for 4 miles is a faster alternative. Sometimes, the highways go through towns with hidden speed bumps that you hit at 25 MPH, resulting in the most whimsical concussions. And sometimes, the highways have quite literally been jackhammered for 15 miles, forcing you to consider making the trip a la Oregon Trail, with oxen and river fording. And Pope help you if it’s raining because hydroplaning is considered an indispensable part of the Argentine driving experience. At least in the United States you can rest assured knowing that your demise will be caused by a doddering senior citizen who can’t see over the steering wheel and not the road itself. 7 MADS to the US interstate system for putting the “fun” back in “functioning infrastructure.”

Air Conditioning:

As though it were a miracle, the first thing that happened upon my return to South Carolina was all of my clothing suddenly and upsettingly became drenched. And only half of that was due to uncontrollable nervous excitement about being home again. The other half was the return to summer, and more specifically, the return to South Carolina’s number one import: humidity. Those 20 yards from the airport exit to my mother’s car were among the most brutal I have spent on this earth, but lo, upon entering the vehicle, there was a cool, dry breeze that swept over me, and it was good. The magic was shattered during the 10-foot walk from the car to the house (another tortuous gauntlet), but the oasis had made its way inside and I promised to never leave it except for Chick-Fil-A. In Cordoba, although the climate was drier, air conditioning is a myth told to children to make them behave, much like Papa Noel or the Chupacabra. But it is magically real in the United States, and verily, it is a burden lifted. Thanks be to thee, 2nd Wind Heating and Air Conditioning. 8 MADS to the prevalence of air conditioning in the United States for making our summers bearable and our lack of tans justifiable.

Ovens:

It could be that I had an unusual experience in Argentina and elsewhere there is no significant difference between Argentine and American ovens/stoves. But in my family’s house, using the oven required at least one college degree and some advanced training in nuclear baking. In one case I tried to bake cookies in our oven, and the recipe called for 14 minutes of bake time (and yes, I was wearing a lovely apron, why do you ask?) The oven didn’t have a temperature gauge (warning #1) so I put it on the low-medium heat range and decided to check every five minutes. After five minutes, the cookies looked decent. After 10, which you’ll notice is 4 minutes less than the suggested bake time, they were burnt to a hellish crisp. And yes, I correctly converted Fahrenheit to centimeters, so that wasn’t the problem. On the second batch, I lowered the temperature to the bare minimum and they were done in 7 minutes, or half the bake time for our slower readers. So, absolutely, definitively, without a doubt, Argentines all have nuclear ovens. Similarly, if you wanted to make chili on the stove, you’d better be prepared to stir that pot for the entirety of its cooking time because the lowest setting produces a rolling boil and the highest setting scorches all biological matter in a 5-mile radius. 9 MADS to the United States for providing me with an oven and a stove with low settings so I can cook for my friends and not wear a hazmat apron in the process.

NOTES (Warning: Sappy material follows. Viewer discretion advised):
1.     Special thanks to my parents and brother for making this trip possible and for their support throughout the entirety of my second study abroad experience. Quite literally could not have done it without you guys.
2.     Special thanks to my host family (Lizi, Marcos, and Victoria), my tutor Tomas, and all of my friends (Fede, Emi, Mati, Lila, Vale, Ale, etc. etc.) for putting up with my shenanigans and teaching me to be a real (Cordobes) boy.
3.     Special thanks to my entirely-too-patient girlfriend Rachel for putting up with me for another 2 months after OCS ended. Go team! You’ve earned your Dobby.
4.     Special thanks to the fellow Clemson students for your patience in putting up with my stubborn refusal to speak in English. I promise that (maybe) won’t continue during classes.
5.     And a special thanks to all my friends back home (Jeff, Liverbird, Nolan, Savannah, etc. etc.) for your support while I was gone and being a terrible long-distance friend. You da, you da best.


Come back soon for the Captain’s new installment, Captain Ryan’s Housewife Tales!