End of The Year Update

     As 2021 comes to a close, I am currently enjoying my second week of vacation, with only but a few precious days left before returning to the chaos of recruiting. Over the last 6 months I have learned what unpredictability and stress is in the office setting. I'll get to that though. These precious days of vacation have been filled with time spent with my family; taking my boys out to the park, playing disc golf with my dad and enjoying some quiet time with my wife. I have had a few beers, I have been on a few good long bike rides and had lots of laughs and smiles in between; exactly as it, life that is, should be. I feel as if I have earned this leave more than any other time in my military career, here's why:

    In June 2021, I was officially tagged by my commander to take over College Station Recruiting Center as the Station Commander. The series of events that led to this moment started rolling a few months prior when the then station commander got a DUI. The next person to the helm was a fellow SSG who is less than 2 years from retirement from the military and is ancient as far as military ages go. (Over 45 and you are considered somewhat of a rarity and a dinosaur.) Despite this replacement being a trained 79R (permanent recruiter) he was failing at this duty due to his lack of skill, ability and looming personal issues. I felt sorry for him, not only for the beatings he took from our command at his incompetence but mostly for the personal issues he was dealing with on top of it. Either way, in late May 2021 I told a mentor 79R SFC that I would be willing to take the station if the time came, seeing as it was already tanking hard. After a few more weeks of the replacement leader, the command team pitched me as the new leader to the battalion command team and they approved. My commander came to visit and after a conversation in the parking lot it was mostly official at that point. 

    My days at the office from then on started at 0800-0815 with me getting there, followed by my 0830 meeting that lasted from 15 minutes to over an hour; this meeting was the morning sync with my commander letting him know the plan and status of the station, prospecting and projections for enlistment. The rest of the day is usually, honestly, a complete clusterf*ck. Kids who are at MEPS trying to enlist will fail one thing or the other, I'll get 20 phone calls about it, hopefully find a way to circumvent the issue and get the kid going to sign a contract. If it's a day like this, I feel either like punching someone in the face, usually multiple people, or going through existential crisis mode on the way home. 

    Other days are more hum drum and I have to make it sound like we did something great for prospecting or projections that day. These very rare days are usually spent quietly catching up on the vast amount of data to be inputted into an endless stream of needless tracking forms on Excel or in Word. If there is one thing that drives me nuts about recruiting is the sheer amount of numbers that commands attempt to use to justify or crucify recruiting efforts. It's a people game, and people are not numbers. Either way, I do what I am told and I fill out the numbers over and over again, day after day and justify my own actions with them. 

    The one thing I hated about this time as station commander, but knew it was going to make me a better worker/soldier is the sheer amount of phone conversations I had to have. I don't like to talk to superiors and I don't like to have to give hard orders to subordinates. ( I truly get no joy from either.) I used to sugar coat everything; whether it was to command teams or to subordinates I did it to make myself seem like the innocent messenger. I have learned this method is ineffective and makes for a leader who is constantly apologizing to subordinates, which gives them a sort of power, and makes you look weak to superiors. I cut that bull crap out and just laid it out very bluntly to everyone. This was in large part to the new 1st Sergeant who took a temp spot as our old 1st Sergeant headed out. This new 1SG would call me, and I kid you not, between 5 - 40 times a day. Think about that. In an 8 hour day that is 1 - 5 times an hour. The first week I was annoyed. The second week I embraced it as good, and for this simple reason: each phone call would be under 1 minute. I kid you not, this man would as a question, a follow on question, give guidance and hang up. No bull crap, no yelling, just took in my information, formulated a possible next action and would expect a follow up on success or failure. Rinse and repeat and that is how he would operate. I quickly adopted it and found great success. 

    Regardless of how the day went, it usually ended after 6pm. Many days after 6:30pm. Some days after 7pm. occasionally later than that and a few times till 8-9pm. Due either to meetings, school events, or applicants taking to damn long in my office, these long days were horrible for my life. I lost motivation to work out in the morning seeing as work now started at 0800 and I wouldn't feel like working out after being beaten up all day until 630pm. I would just get home and try to soak up my kids before they went to bed and shoveling food down my throat so I wasn't so freaking hungry. This job drove me to starting to drink coffee again for the sheer amount of energy I needed to keep sharp with my memory and wakefulness. In part this would help curb my appetite and I ate less. Got down to 141 pounds which was fixed after thanksgiving.  

    The good news is that I am now returning to being a regular recruiter. 0900 work call means mornings are all mine again. As long as I put one person in a month no one will yell at me; and I did that every single month I was a recruiter and a few months as a station commander. I won't stay late regularly unless the new station commander is a dick. I'll bust my ass more than ever 9-5 and go home. I am very excited and thankful this chapter is coming to a close. I miss seeing my family and going home before the sun goes down!!

    My newest boy Nico is growing so much! At 6 months old and almost 20 pounds he is a fast growing boy and is finding his voice. He yells now just for fun, probably due to the fact that his brothers yell almost constantly. He sleeps at night, thank the Lord, and that's just amazing. Ryker, my second child, did not sleep at night very well until about 7 months old and I'm not sure how I still maintain my hair line and color after that. Oren is obsessed with snakes now. I mean that literally. Almost all conversations with him lead to or start with something about the reptiles who lack legs. Ryker is following suit but I think just for the sake of sibling emulation. The boys give my wife a run for her money every day and I can't blame her, they exhaust even the strongest of spirits and could empty the stockpiles of patience from a saint. Bless her and bless them. 

    My wife has been an amazing wife and mother despite the crappy work hours on my end and the stress that it bleeds into our family life. Some days are hard and some are happy but at the end of the day she stays the course and does her damndest to raise upright men and keep me in line as well! For that I am eternally grateful to her and God. She is currently getting crafty with some jewelry making and has bought a few puzzles. 

    I have followed suit, as I usually do when I take leave for more than 3 days, in picking up a new hobby: Book making/binding. I literally made a book almost from scratch. I folded and stitched together paper. I cut paper board and bound the whole thing in maroon leather and included a maroon ribbon page marker. See photo below. I am pretty satisfied with this work as it only took 2-3 days and a few dollars. I am eager to work on a secret project regarding this hobby now and to rebind some old books of mine with a more fitting cover. 

    It is far too late, I must sign off. I apologize for the delay in the update. I pray life will not change after my vacation as to continue to keep me away from my spare time. - Mitch

Thoughts on a Motorcycle Ride

     Riding a motorcycle is somewhere between an art and a science. Scientific in the physics that keep a bike upright at speed and actively resist turning and leaning. The grip of the tires on a hot afternoon or the lack thereof of on cold and wet mornings. Speed, wind resistance, fuel economy, and vehicle maintenance all must be calculated and evaluated before, during and after the ride to ensure success. Riding is artistic in the way that one seems to glide across blazing hot roads, seamlessly riding in parallel with the winding white and yellow guidelines. The paint stroke of the tires sweeping across the blacktop at speed, confident and bold; just like an artist of the paint, an artist of the road needs confidence as the consumers of the art can always sense the fear or incompetence within.

    I can't help but think of my own mortality whenever I hop on my small Honda Grom. I think of it every single time. I often pray before, during and after my rides, no matter the distance for safe travels. I always wear a full face helmet, gloves, pants, boots and often a riding jacket rated for falls and slides. I like to think of myself as a cautious rider, but a practical rider. If I can use a bike lane to turn right instead of waiting behind 4 cars at a red light then I will, but I won't lane split or speed. I can't really speed as the Grom only tops out at 65 on a downhill, but 55 is pretty fast in a 30 zone. Lines on the road are always there to keep me safe right? The lines provide almost a structure to the road; if you've ever driven on a fresh road with no markings of any sort you can feel lost or uncomfortable as you realize (or fail to put into words) that these markings are a language and discipline to those who drive. Failure to understand, communicate or to remain disciplined can, and often, leads to serious injury or death. I rarely disobey the lines and only out of desperation or necessity. While that may seem somewhat contradictory I'll give you an example: I pulled over on a shoulder today and waited for the road to clear to make an illegal U-turn. I made the U-turn right then and there in order to save precious miles as my tank was very very low on fuel and I knew that I had past the nearest gas station for miles around. 

    Anyhow, my thoughts during the ride are far a few between. I think this is why people enjoy riding so much. Riding a motorcyle isn't like driving a car where you often find yourself drifting between hypnosis of the road and actually paying attention to every detail in the road. On the highway or back country roads there are potholes, lumber, trash, roadkill, and other hazards that could easily knock a rider down or at the very least cause them to swerve into the other lane or off the road. Riders must always be assessing the road in front. The wind is a constant reminder of the weather outside. If it's humid then you can feel soaked from the sheer amount of water build up on your clothes and when it's cold it stabs like knives at every weak spot: zipper seams, unprotected ankles/wrists/neckline, and pants that are too thin. Having ridden in below freezing conditions, I'm here to say that the cold sucks. These elements (road conditions and weather) are constantly assessed and in the forefront of your mind when you ride. There is never a moment when they disappear. The most dangerous element of all, (besides an individuals tolerance for risk) is the other highly intelligent animals on the road: other human beings. 

    Have I dodged animals on the road: yes. Have I swerved for random objects: Almost weekly. Have I risked hypothermia and overheating: yes. Have I been almost hit by other people: More times than I can even remember. It happens so often you almost become desensitized to such a traumatic event. Given a motorcycles small profile, speed and often the carelessness of the rider it's no wonder bikers are hit or get cars pulling out in front of them so much. I've had my fair share in the 4 years I've been riding. Most of the time the people don't even notice what they did. If they do notice they will brush it off. I confronted a driver once who turned left in front of me in a parking lot. (Turing left in front of an oncoming motorcycle is the number one cause of fatality) I followed her to her spot and yelled at her to get out. She was unimpressed as I was yelling at her until I realized that she didn't know what rank I was. After pulling down my riding jacket and showing her my stripes she listened a little better. I reminded her, in perhaps a not so eloquent way, that I have a wife and kids at home and that she would do better to get off her phone so I could see them at the end of the day. I have had several encounters like that where I will confront people when they are acting so stupidly. My wife says I shouldn't confront people because I may end up shot or stabbed but to me what they did is as good as a suckerpunch and I won't lay down for it. My kids and wife are always the first things I think of whenever I have an incident like that. Any time my own mortality is in question I have always thought of my wife and kids first and pray that I could just get one more day...

    These thoughts, to a normal person, may seem morbid or uncomfortable but to me it's almost a necessary reset. There's nothing like a brush with death to really put in perspective what's important in this life. Life's anxieties and worries are small compared to what really matters. I have been so anxious before that I couldn't even ride my motorcycle home before. Not because of my fear of the ride but because my physical response to an anxiety attack. Since that day I have learned to live with and mitigate anxiety. There has never been a simple fix, not one simple exercise to blot it out but a combination of thought patterns, thought exercises and physical conditioning. This morning on my bike ride I was out past Hearne, TX when I began to feel a little anxious. I thought: what if I got into an accident here in the middle of nowhere, what would my wife and kids think? Would I make it to a hospital? Where is the nearest hospital anyways, I saw an urgent care about 15 miles back but it's just an urgent care.... These thoughts streamed through my fore vision for but a mere moment in time and then I had to come back to the road; the road had a left hand turn followed by a hill who's crest was higher than my current elevation that required my full attention. This fixation only lasted but 30 seconds and it was back to open roads but it gave me a mental stop and then I changed my thoughts. I said to myself: "It wouldn't matter if you died here or in your house; dying results in the same thing no matter the location. Your wife and kids love you and you them and that is a well established fact. You dying is statistically unlikely as you aren't drinking, speeding or riding  recklessly (which accounts for over half of all motorcycle incidents)". I said this to myself and once again accepted my own mortality and was okay with it. 

    I'm not fine with dying willy nilly mind you, just accepting the fact that I will one day die and certainly not at my own doing! I have never been tempted by suicide or even the thought thereof. I have always maintained the idea that if I ever thought that my life was so miserable I couldn't bear it that my first and only move would be to change my life somehow. I maintain my happiness and joy through exercises in gratefulness and always imagining and knowing it could be much worse. I don't ride my motorcycle mocking the cars and their safety. I ride because I enjoy it and love the gas mileage. I like the fact that every time I get on it I feel grounded to the current reality I am experiencing, regardless of whether or not scientist think it's a simulation. If it is a simulation then it's a damn good one and I'll take more of it. Riding is not something I do on the weekends or do for fun. It is practical, it is zen. It is dangerous for those who lack discipline.

   Final thoughts: riding over 200 miles today was exactly what I needed. I am more grounded in this moment, again. I have had inspiration for writing. More importantly I am refocused on what my priorities are in life and the rest of life's worries are where they belong: miles behind me, blowing along the empty and dark back roads of Texas.