Even with all the excitement in town.
So *yawn* life has been slugging by at its usual breakneck speed. Twelve hour days remain the norm but I no longer feel the weight of it, as there's simply nothing else to do, really. Except for seeing Wayne Newton and running the Army Ten-Miler, I mean.
Last Tuesday, Steve (one of our contractors) returned from his 10-day R&R in Europe. He popped into the office and asked what we'd been up to. I said, "Jeff and I went to see Wayne Newton last night. It was a good show. Neil McCoy...."
Steve said, "Wayne Newton?"
I said, "Yeah. There was a show last night and Jeff and I went to it. He had a bunch of performers...."
Steve said, "I'm sorry. Maybe it's the noise but I sometimes have a hard time hearing people. It sounded like you said Wayne Newton."
I said, "Yeah. The Vegas performer. Mr. Danke Shoen. Wayne Newton."
"Wayne Newton was here?"
"Yeah. At the stadium. Last night. It was a good show. Of course, he mangled every song that he hasn't personally made popular, but that's somehow part of the fun of his performances."
I expected the cheesy acts would be first ("opening acts"), then Wayne Newton would made a token appearance ten minutes before the show ended. The secret to happiness is lower expectations, I'm told. I was pleasantly surprised that Wayne Newton opened the show, destroyed a couple of songs, then officiated the entire show, closing (of course) with Danke Shoen, then a song sung choral style by all the performers. He played the guitar for us (Flameco--lovely), then showed us he could play the fiddle, too (the Devil Went Down to Georgia and the Orange Blossom Special). He told a couple of jokes that weren't terribly good, but I must say this for the man...he's a showman. Even while I think he's murdering innocent songs, I'm enjoying his show.
We had a Hispanic talk-show host named Myrka Dellanos, and the McFadden Brothers with some great tap-dancing. (I always think tapdancing is so passe, but I love watching it because...how do they do that?) Rob Schnieder delivered the most uninspired performance of the evening, reading from a list of jokes he'd brought for the occasion. Wayne Newton's and Neil McCoy's jokes were better, and done with much better delivery and timing. And Rob Schnieder is presumably the "comic." Go figure.
There was a chick named Jenvi Bakch who could sing, but it appeared as though her body was supposed to be her contribution to the show, judging from her outfit. She appeared in a flight suit (which to us, by now, looks like normal clothing) and sang a song. She paused to talk for a bit. Jeff leaned over and said, "Is it just me, or do you think that flight suit is about to come off?" I said I don't know. She was already wearing it zipped well past the point of proper uniform wear, if you catch my drift. Not one minute after he said that, she said, "It's hot out here." I glanced at Jeff. He looked smug.
She asked for a volunteer from the audience to help her off with the flight suit. She got a Texas boy from the audience, who did his job so well that he temporarily stole the show.
The best part of the show, though, was Neil McCoy. I've long loved his music, but there's nothing more endearing than a laid-back country boy performer. To watch his show, you feel like you're at the dinner table with him. He was relaxed, entertaining, and clearly enjoying himself tremendously. Oh...and he can sing.
So...yeah. We had a USO show.
Yesterday morning, we did the Army Ten-Miler. We're both (ahem) uncompetitive, but it was something to do to pass the time.
The Army Ten-Miler is an annual race held at the Pentagon. So deployed personnel don't have to miss out on all the fun, though, they hold one at Balad for all the Army in theater. We had 1300 people running.
Now. I haven't run 10 miles in years. There was a time I was running 10 miles a day, but that time is long past. Two weeks before the run, I went six miles on a treadmill a couple of times and suffered no ill effects. I figured a ten-mile run would leave me sore, but a one-time good deal probably wouldn't injure me for life. I did this run for two reasons:
1. For the cheesy tshirt.
2. It was, quite literally, just something to do to mark the time.
3. To see if I still could run ten miles.
(Ok. Three reasons. Well...I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition....*)
* NOBODY expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is surprise...surprise and fear...fear and surprise.... Our two weapons are fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency.... Our three weapons are fear, surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope.... Our four...no... Amongst our weapons.... Amongst our weaponry...are such elements as fear, surprise.... I'll come in again.
We went around to pick up our complimentary cheesy tshirts before the run. The man passing them out looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, Ma'am. All I have left are extra larges."
I just smiled and said, "Of course you do." Like I needed another nightgown. Anyhow. you never can have too many tshirts. I may not wear it, but I can always use it to polish the truck or dress up the dog.
Jeff and I are both sluggish runners, so we just trotted and talked, the goal being simply to finish. Before we knew it, we'd covered eight miles. Soon after that, I quickly noticed a few specific problems. A tiny muscle in the back of my right calf felt like it was about to snap. I adjusted my balance to relieve the pressure on it. The muscles in my back tightened and my knees began to feel the pounding. I slowed down a bit (Jeff was a gentleman and slowed with me), but finished. Our time was 1 hour 39 minutes and change--just under a ten-minute mile.
I don't think that's so bad, myself. We were number 641 and 642 of 1300. That's a pretty good showing.
After we stopped, I was incredibly light-headed for about three minutes, then it passed. I've decided that might be my last long-distance run--unless I've taken the time to build up to it slowly, like I had good sense.
My knees feel like I ground them to powder yesterday. My back is still in knots. My muscles are a teensy bit sore, but just fine. My joints certainly aren't getting any younger, though.
I was going to compain about Al Udeid at some point, wasn't I? And to think they want me to come back already....
d
