A funny story at the end of this post

OK, quick update on the magical power outage yesterday. Click here or here to read two stories about it. Seems some chick ran into a power pole, which killed power for that entire line. Oops! What the stories don’t tell you is that when the power went down to the refinery on the island north of us, they had to burn off all the crude oil working its way through the plant and then flush the lines using the water stored in their four (hoorah four) million gallon tank. Yep, you guessed it! In order to fill the tank back up, guess which island south of the refinery lost its water supply? Whidbey Island! While the base has its own water tank to supplement that water we get through the twenty-four and twelve inch pipeline, the city of Oak Harbor does not, a critical vulnerability to say the least (I hope no terrorists are reading this). Supposedly, the city will be building one soon. I sure hope so. One woman runs in to a power pole and knocks out both electricity and water to the whole island. Most excellent!

As for today, I had a so-so day at work. All three of my morning appointments skipped out on me. Two of them were supposed to chat with me about having me perform their weddings. Really, you want me to perform your wedding (probably on a weekend when I’d rather be off) and you can’t even bother to show up to an appointment that you made? Uggh! I could’ve made my weekly jail visit in the morning (which is what I usually do on Friday mornings) instead of waiting around. Oh well, I guess I can visit in between my funeral and wedding tomorrow. Then, as I was heading out to lunch, I get a call from NCIS letting me know that a sailor’s been busted and wants to speak to a chaplain. (The last sailor I talked to busted by NCIS was back in Port Hueneme and revolved around child pornography). I never found out what this guy’s issue was though as I fortunately ran in to his wing chaplain as I headed out the door to go meet him. Dodged a bullet there did I!

Keeping with the Navy theme, I’ll close with a funny story. On Wednesday, I was driving around base shortly before morning colors (something I try to avoid). Most (OK, almost all) people here don’t stop driving when colors sound, but I do. The horn blew; I pulled over onto the shoulder with just a wee bit of my car still in the lane and put my hazards on like a good little sailor. Of course, people kept blowing by me except the patrol car that pulled in behind me. Out pops a MA (master-at-arms). As he approaches my window I inform him that I’ve pulled over because colors has sounded. His exact words to me were, “I have to respect that. However, next time pull all the way over in to the grass” (which I deliberately avoided—no need to tear up a little lawn). “I have to respect that”? Really? You respect my decision to pull over, which is what everyone is supposed to when morning colors sounds? Were you planning on giving me a ticket otherwise? Good gravy, people! I tell you, I will never get used to how laid-back and unmilitary-like aviators, airdales and the civilians are on this base. The Seabees and NBVC have permanently spoiled me. Most days, I think that is a good thing.