Mooj.com
Dundalk, MD 21222
Mujaputtia Umbababbaraba
Editor-in-Chief
Mary
Isabelle Umbababbaraba
Senior Editor Poonam
Umbababbaraba
Mooj Hotline Mamaji
Umbababbaraba
Mooj Poetry League President
Dr. Virgil Taft
Deputy for Marketing
Tang Ho Lee
Web Developer
Veejay S. Gupta
Sr. Web Developer
& Sys Admin
Jules Vermilion
Naval Attaché Officer
Randall Holmes
Sr. Law Enforcement Advisor
Andrew Coffucci
Minion of the Year
Lance Worthy (RIP?)
Official Mooj Side Kick H.
Franscheska
Community Outreach Jeffrey
Alexander
Lawsuits Alaana
Woody
Subscriptions Katishka
Punjabeiii
Ombudsman Vic
Taylor
Mooj Memory Bank President
|
FYI:
I didn't know it then but the night I flew from Oakland to Clark
AFB, I met my future in-laws for the first time. One of my best friends at
the time was also headed to the Pig that day. He lived near enough to Oakland that his whole family
came to see him off. I met them all, with the exception of his
younger sister, who was away at college. Seven years later I married her. |
|
Nuke
Stuff:
MARF: "MARF"
(S7G) was the most unique reactor plant in the world back then. It
was one of 4 training reactors at the NPTU site. It was a "rodless" reactor that used water tubes to control
reactivity. Rumor had it that Rickover designed MARF to show whoever
it was that was cornering the hafnium market that he didn't need hafnium
for control rods. S7G was fitted with rods in the late 1980s.
DIG Ball: Anyone
driving onto the NPTU Balston Spa site would notice right away a
huge gray ball. This was the containment vessel that was built
around
the D1G reactor plant. On top of this ball was a flashing red light
that warned airplanes to stay away. The locals all seemed to think
that whenever this red light was on that the navy was secretly refueling a
submarine inside. I could never figure out how people thought a
submarine actually got all the way up to Balston Spa without being
noticed.
Nuke NEC: As
soon as a nuke successfully completed his training he was assigned an NEC
(navy enlisted code). Nukes were either designated as electrical
operators (EMs), mechanical operators (MMs) or reactor operators
(ETs). As long as you weren't "de-nuked" you were eligible
to serve and qualify on nuclear ships. Having a nuke NEC also entitled
you to a little extra pay.
|
|
The Whole
Marcos/Aquino Election Thing In A Nutshell:
In
1972 President Ferdinand Marcos declared martial law, which soon
became total dictatorial control. His government was riddled with
corruption, cronyism and economic mismanagement. When Marcos' main
opponent, Benigno Aquino, was assassinated in 1983, opposition to his rule
reached unprecedented heights with rioting on the streets of Manila.
Marcos called an election in 1986, which both he and his rival, widow
Corazon Aquino, claimed to have won. "People Power" won out in
the end as tens of thousands of people took to the streets of Manila in a
defiant display of support for the popular opposition leader. Within days
Marcos and his shoe-fetishist wife Imelda went into comfortable exile in
Hawaii. Source:
Time
Magazine |
|
|
|
First
things first! Humble Minions! What more can I
say? It is impossible for me to put into words how happy I am this
day. Although The Mooj Weekly Standard may be
just one of many newsletters you visit while searching the Internet for
jollies, it is my whole life. Yes, sadly, if it weren't for this portal
of personal self-realized collective wisdom dispersion I would have nothing
to live for. Sadly, once I was a rich and prosperous swami, doling wisdom
to those lucky enough to pass me on the sidewalk. But, alas, the years have been unkind
and I am now virtually penniless, and scrounging my way from town to town.
But I
have yet to give up! Yes, I go on because you my humble and loyal followers have let it be known that I still have
meaning in your
lives. This you prove to me every time you log onto my humble website.
What good stuff awaits you
this week? The usual. You know, a bunch of letters that The
Mooj feels obligated to answer, a story from one of my humble minions
about his first date, another story about love, a poem about a foot, and our good friend and
companion Jules Vermilion adds
part three to his stirring sea adventure tale. If I were you I would
begin reading this newsletter as soon as possible because I sure
am!
|
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THE MOOJ MAIL BAG
Hey, your mooj page is
totally awesome.
I was so happy to find it because I am totally insane and this is the kind
of stuff I really like to read! Excuse me now because I have to go and
take a dump. Talk to you later.
Terri Palmer,
Medford, OR, U.S.A.
The Mooj thanks you for your
insightful email. The Mooj also hopes that you are taking your medication and are
getting lots of rest, wherever it is they are keeping you locked up.
Hey Good Buddy,
I just want to say
that it was a pleasure to meet you at that truck stop
near Clinton, Indiana last week. It was very comforting to sit and jabber
jaw with you for a few hours. You're a pretty funny guy. Normally I don’t talk to strangers when I’m on
the road, especially when they look as haggard and worn down as you did.
When I got home after finishing my run to Chi-Town I checked out your website
and thought it was okay. I’m not really into all that fruity new age stuff so I doubt I look at it again. I used to be in the navy so
I liked that Jules Vermilion story though. I also read that poem that you said was
full of deep meaning. Well, I ain’t no Shakespeare so I couldn’t tell
you what it meant. If you ask me it looked like that Asmus kid just took a
Samuel Greenberg poem and interlaced it within a Led Zeppelin song.
Tony Presley,
Zion, IL
Thank you for your kind
words Mr. Presley. It was
a pleasure to meet you and I hope we meet again. In fact, if you send me your address
and some bus fare I’ll make it happen.
Dear Mooj,
I had a crush on this guy at work and thought that he would never ask me out.
Well he finally did. For
our date he took me to a restaurant in Jack London Square
(in Oakland). As we were outside waiting for a table a deaf man came up and handed us a
little paper flag and a card that
said he was deaf and dumb and that he was selling American flags to help
other deaf and dumb homeless people like himself. This guy handed cards and
flags to everyone standing there and then came back to collect
money. Everyone gave this poor man some money except my date. He told the
poor homeless man to get lost and then threw the guy's card and flag on the ground
and stomped on them. He then
said loud enough for everyone to hear: "It’s a scam! This guy ain’t
really deaf!" To prove his point he
then began hurling insults at the deaf guy from behind his back. The deaf
guy turned around but I think it was because all the people in front of him
were looking so shocked at what my date was saying. Anyway, I was so embarrassed
and I realized that maybe this guy is really an idiot and I shouldn’t
see him again. But he’s really, really cute! Please tell me what to do Mooj. I trust your judgment and
will abide by your wishes.
Danielle Miller,
Hayward, CA
Yours is a grisly
memento mori, Miss Miller.
I think you know what should be done so dump the chump ASAP. Even if the deaf guy was pulling a fast one (which he
obviously was) no one should have to be subjected to that sort of ridicule.
[Note to self: This "deaf and dumb" scam sounds like a
pretty good way to raise some traveling money.]
Mooj:
For over 45 years now I have been
hiding a shameful secret. It was something I did on Halloween night back in
1956. We were just kids then—stupid kids I tell you. We had no idea what we
were getting ourselves into when my pal Ben Tucker suggested that we dig up
a body at the local graveyard and then hide it in the trunk of Mr. Willowby’s
car. (Mr. Willowby was our high school principal.)
Every year the seniors at
our high school pulled a Halloween prank and when it was our turn we really
wanted to make history. So on Halloween night at about 9:30 p.m. several
seniors (including myself) met at the Shady Grove Cemetery to dig up a body.
When everyone was there Ben Tucker told us that he read in the obituaries
that a man named O’ Flarity was buried a few days before and that
he would probably be the freshest body in the cemetery. Ben Tucker then
ordered us to fan out and look for the guy.
Within a few minutes Sean
McCormick found the fresh mound and summoned the rest of us over to it. At
first I didn’t think we were really going to dig up a body. Shady Grove
Cemetery was a spooky place at night and it was kind of a rite of passage in
my little town to get the cemetery night watchman to chase you around a bit.
Oddly, there was no night watchman at Shady Grove on that dreadful night.
Far off in the distance I heard the town curfew whistle go off. It was now
10:00. Being out after curfew—not to mention in a cemetery on Halloween
night—made me feel very uneasy.
Several of the boys had brought along
shovels and they began taking turns stabbing at the mound covering Mr. O’
Flarity’s body. How far will this gag go? I wondered. The others must have
been thinking the same thing since no one was really making much of an
effort to remove dirt from the top of poor old Mr. O’ Flarity’s grave.
Finally Ben Tucker grabbed a shovel and told us to all step aside. He then
began digging vigorously into the fresh dirt. It was then that I realized
that Ben Tucker was serious.
"Ain’t this going a bit too
far?" I finally asked.
"Yeah, Tuck….., we ain’t
really gonna dig this old guy up are we?" added Mel Renolds.
"Yeah, this is kinda creepy, you
know?" added Jim Taylor.
"What are you guys chicken?"
said Ben.
"No I ain’t chicken," said
Jim, "I just didn’t think we were really gonna do this."
"Well hell Jim, why are we here
then? Don’t tell me you’re chicken?" said Ben.
Ben kept digging while the rest of us
just stood there watching. Finally Ben struck the top of Mr. O’ Flarity’s
casket and my heart stopped. I knew better than to mess with the dead and
now I was sure that we were doing something that was totally sacrilegious.
"Gimme a hand," Yelled Ben
when he finally uncovered the top of the casket. Tim Robberts then handed
Ben a lantern and we all looked down into the hole. By then Ben had pried
open the top of the casket and we all saw the dead face of poor Mr. O’
Flarity. That’s when I started to get really nervous. "This was bad—really
bad," I thought and I couldn’t believe we were actually doing
something so evil. Ben then lifted the body out of the casket and told the
others to help him drag it out of the hole. Then Ben and three others lugged
the dead guy all the way to Mel Renold’s car, which was parked near the
cemetery gate. When they reached the car Mel popped open the trunk and the
boys threw the body inside. Then Ben ordered everyone to follow him to old
man Willowby’s house to finish the job. I had driven down to the cemetery
with Jim Taylor and decided to go in his car with Sean McCormick. The others
all piled into Mel’s car.
"Jim, take me home I don’t want
anymore to do with this," I finally said as we drove south along the
old cemetery road. Sean McCormick also asked to be taken home and then Jim
confided in us that he was just going to go home himself. None of us wanted
anything more to do with this sordid business. It was about 3:00 a.m. by the
time I got home.
At school the next day I met Jim
Taylor and Sean McCormick by the senior lockers and we waited for the others
to show up but nobody came. When the first period bell rang we began to
sense that something terrible must have happened the night before. Later in
the morning Mr. Willowby called an emergency assembly and the whole school
was asked to report to the gym. It was then that Mr. Willowby reported that
several boys from school had been killed the night before in a terrible
accident. Somehow Mel Renold’s old jalopy had run off the road and hit a
tree. Mr. Willowby said it all sounded very suspicious but didn’t say
anything about them finding a dead body in the trunk.
That evening the local
paper had a huge front page story about the Halloween night tragedy and
speculation was made that the dead boys found in Mel’s car were somehow
mixed up with a grave that had been mysteriously dug up at the Shady Grove
Cemetery. The paper noted that "the grave of a Mr. Edwin O’ Flarity
had been dug up but that the body was still inside the casket." It was
then that I realized that somehow the dead Mr. O’ Flarity was responsible
for the accident and somehow he got himself back to his grave and climbed
into his casket again.
Jim, Sean and I swore to each other that we would
never utter a word about what really happened that night and we have all
been true to our word since. The reason I am finally breaking my vow of
silence is that both Jim and Sean have now passed away and I feel that I owe
it to my brother and sister minions to let them know what I have done. May
God forgive me!
-Unsigned
Gadzooks! The Mooj is shocked by your alarming
and preposterous confession. But at the same time I admire your willingness to seek forgiveness for your crime
against humanity. That was some serious mischief you and your fellow chums got into that night but I guess it’s all just part of
growing up. Actually, now that I think back on my days at Raweigh High (or
was it Raweigh Junior High…or maybe it was Raweigh Elementary) I recall pulling a
few gags, myself, on the school principal. Ha! I can still see the pained expression on poor
Mr. Liscombe’s face when I blew up his car and, er, …… actually I
better not say anymore since Mr. Liscombe might be reading this newsletter.
Dear Mr. Umbababbaraba,
The York County Sheriff’s Department
is currently investigating a hate crime that occurred on November
16, 2000 in the peaceful village of Fawn Grove, PA. This crime involved a
Tastykakes deliveryman, a bicyclist and a case of Tastykake
pies. An anonymous call to our crime stopper hotline has indicated that you may
be useful in finding and convicting the
person responsible for this heinous act. Our Chester County law enforcement
brothers have advised us that you are a registered deadbeat and will prove
to be unreliable but we believe otherwise. If you can assist us in anyway we
will see to it that you are commended in writing, which may or may not help
you achieve early parole when you are eventually caught and returned to
Chester County Jail to serve out the remainder of your sentence.
Be safe and buckle up!
Deputy Ronald Ruben Yes, I am somewhat familiar with the
episode you are referring to and it is very likely that one of my minions
may have played a minor role in
inserting one or more of those pies up that poor Tastykake deliveryman’s
posterior annulus. However, because I don’t keep records of my activities
or correspondence (for tax reasons) I cannot tell you who it was or where
that person lives. There is, however, a cub reporter working for the Washington
Post that may know more about this than I do. I think he did some kind
of investigation on this crime. However, this cub
reporter is anonymous and will not reveal his true identity to me (or
others) for fear that he will be shunned by his fellow left-leaning
journalist buddies for aiding and abetting a known holy man. I suggest you
pay a visit to The Washington Post offices and look for
someone who has a giant map of America [with a bunch of thumbtacks stuck
in it forming a path of my humble wanderings] hanging up in his office. Good luck
finding this wicked bicyclist. People like that give Moojism a bad name!
El Mo-aj,
Is there any reason in particular that
you seem obsessed with bodily functions? Just about every Mooj newsletter
mentions something about a bowel movement. As an example, half of the testimonials listed on your
Mooj.com index page on why "Moojism is so important to people"
involve someone who has crapped themselves (or done something
along those lines). Is it just me or are there others
out there that see it too? Just wondering.
Colby Schick, a.k.a. "The
Schickster,"
San Xavier Indian Reservation, AZ
The Mooj has no idea what this person
is talking about. But, I will defend the literary content of this and
other Mooj publications and say that we here at Mooj.com are not afraid to
print things that some people find offensive. (Heck, isn't that kind of
what Moojism is all about?)
Mooj,
My ex-girlfriend treated me really
badly and then dumped me. But since then I won millions of dollars in the
Georgia State Lottery and she is after me again. Before she dumped
me we had been dating for six years. I had even asked her to marry me
once. At first things were great between us but then she turned mean and
found every reason to criticize me. In the end she dumped me, saying that
I wasn’t man enough to satisfy her needs. Then I was devastated to find
out that behind my back she’d been sleeping around with all the guys at
my work, including my brother Barry. Since then I’ve moved on. Now that
I’m a multi-millionaire I want to see the world but now my ex wants me
back. I really love her and I am tempted. On the other hand, I can't get
out of my head how much she hurt me. What would you do if you were me?
Theo Grey,
Trion, GA
I’ll tell you what
I’d do, I’d sit down and write a nice big fat check out to my favorite
Swami—that’s what I would do! After that I’d take off and see the
world and forget about this evil woman. She sounds like nothing but
trouble. If you go to France or England, stay away from farm animals or
you might get that Hoof in Mouth disease.
Dear Mooj,
I'm getting married-Married? Yes,
married in two weeks and I'm having several dilemmas. One, I don't have
enough clean panties for the 6-day honeymoon. And two, I'm worried about
my cousin Phil. Actually, it used to be Jill, so you can imagine my
problem. I wanted her to be a bridesmaid but she's really mid-stream in
her process (still has a lot of growth). Should she be able to bring both
her boyfriend and her girlfriend? (It's a spendy reception). Does she go
for the garter or the bouquet?
Help,
Sandy in Wilmington
The Mooj is really stumped by this
one. I used to think I had all the answers but I guess I really don’t.
Hey Mudge!!!! Dude!!!! What are you
doing? Heh, Heh, Heh! Remember me? You know, your old "Love
Doll"? I've been waiting for you to come and get me. You didn't
forget me did you? Naw, you wouldn’t forget me. Not you....., the guy
that remembers everything. Like my birthday that was last week. I'm sure
your card just got lost in the mail. You know Christmas should be
celebrated everyday and that's why it doesn't really matter that your
present hasn't come yet. I can hardly wait to see you! We have a lot of
catching up to do. My therapist says I don't have to wear the muzzle all
the time any more. Just around people. I love you Mudge! I can hardly wait
to sink my teeth.... I mean see you again!
Pat
Benton Hurst Asylum for the
Criminally Insane
Oh great. Another lunatic has
gleaned my email address from an unreliable source and is trying to make
contact with me. Oh well, I guess that’s just what being The Mooj is all
about: helping people—people who need people.
Dear Mooj,
Whooooo are you? Who? Who? Who? Who?
Whooooo are you? Who? Who? Who? Who?
I'd really like to know, I'd really
like to knoooooow
Who the hell are you????
I’m The Mooj. Who are you?
Hey Mooj, guess what I gave up for
Lent? Going to Mass—ha! Hey, the other day I
was sitting in Mass and I heard the lector read a letter from St. Paul to
the Philippines. Wow, that’s amazing that back in 50 a.d. that some guy
in Rome could get a letter all the way to the Philippines! It must have
taken months or even years! Ha! Anyway, I got a million of them. Ha!
The Irish Jokester
County Cork, IRE
It looks like our favorite Irish
comedian from County Cork has blessed us once again with his Gaelic humor. It’s
been a while since we heard from this fellow. I’m glad to see he’s as
funny as he always is.
|
Are
you in the mood for a genuine Mooj poem? Well, too bad because I
didn't write one. But you won't go poem-less.
Nope. One of
your loyal minion brothers (or sisters), who wishes to remain anonymous
(for good reason) has sent forth a poem that rings of
marginal talent. It's called....
This,
My Foot
This my foot I give to thee
Have a look and you will see,
It is a foot, so honest and true
A foot that I have saved for you.
On it I have walked, danced and
stood,
I’ve washed, socked it, and shod
it good
This I’ve done
just for
you
Take my foot
and then take me too.
|
Mooj
Note: This poem makes absolutely no sense to
me, whatsoever. I think the "foot" is supposed to
be a metaphor for something else but what that thing is I have no idea. |
|
| Hot
Damn, It's a Personal True Life Story by
Mooj Minion 558! |
My First Date
I began getting ready for my
hot date about three. For this special occasion I put on my navy
blue Angel’s Flight pants and a Hawaiian print OP shirt (that
belonged to my mom’s boyfriend Boyd). Boyd was over and he helped
get my hair blow-dried and all.
At 5:00 sharp my best friend Ron’s
girlfriend Laura came by and picked me up. She was the one who fixed
me up on the blind date with her friend Robin. As we drove over to
where Ron was working Laura coached me on what to do and say. She
also kept telling me that Robin was a nice girl and that I would
really like her.
After we picked Ron up we went back to Laura’s
house, where Ron changed. Then the three of us drove to Robin’s
house. I was a nervous wreck by then and began to chicken out. Ron
kept reassuring me and told me to act cool. When Robin answered the
door I was floored—she was gorgeous! In the picture that
Laura had shown me before she looked "okay," maybe a bit
cute—but in real life she was gorgeous. She was wearing tight red
painter’s pants (popular at the time) and a yellowish jersey. She
had long brown hair and dark brown eyes.
After meeting her mom the
four of us then drove to Balboa Island to rent a sailboat. The whole
way there I was too scared to say anything and Robin, Laura and Ron
just made small talk. When we arrived at the marina the boat place
was closed. As Ron and I walked back to get his car (a 1968
Firebird) we tried to figure out what to do next. Ron thought
Disneyland would be a good idea but the girls nixed the idea when
we presented to them after we returned to pick them up.
We next went
someplace to eat dinner (it wasn't Denny's but it was along those
lines). It was in the parking lot of the restaurant that Ron finally
gave me the "put your arm around her" signal. I was scared
to death at first but finally did it as we got to the door. Robin
didn’t seem to react one way or another (i.e., she didn’t get
closer or pull away).
While we were all sitting at the table Robin
and Laura excused themselves and went to the lady’s room. When
they returned Laura signaled Ron and they went off together. Then
Ron returned to the table and signaled me to follow him to the
restroom. It was there that Ron told me that Robin told Laura that
she had a boyfriend. By that time it was almost a blessing since I
was insane with fear over how I was going to try and kiss her since
I had so much trouble just trying to work up the nerve to put my arm
around her.
Finally, we ordered dinner and Ron and I had shrimp and
the girls had soup and salad. The check came to $17.50. After dinner
we went miniature golfing and things didn’t improve much. In fact,
Laura was actually getting peeved at Ron because he was flirting
with Robin. I just bided my time and wished the horror would end.
Perhaps the thing that turned me on the most about Robin was
that she smoked! Back when you were 15 that kind of stuff was
cool.
On the way home I sat in the back with Robin and we said
nothing to each other. Laura was mad at Ron so she, too, was quiet
and Ron—the charmer that he was—joked freely and suggestively
with Robin. When we arrived at my house I exited the car, said good
night to all, including my date, and then ran home and locked myself
in my room.
| Hot
Damn, It's Another Personal True Life Story
by Mike Babbit, Mooj
Minion 667! |
My First True
Love
I thought I would share a love
story with you and your readers. Maybe it will serve as inspiration
to all my brother minions out there, who don’t think they have
what it takes to win the girl of their dreams.
Back when I was 14
years old I had this huge crush on Sheila Patterson. She sat right
in front of me in English class and I was always staring at the back
of her head. She was so beautiful that I dreamed about her almost
everyday. Sheila took the same bus home from school that I did.
Normally she would sit with Kathy Miller so if I were lucky I could
grab the seat right behind Kathy before Sheila got on and then watch
her as she walked up the aisle. I used to picture Sheila in a
wedding dress and pretend that she was walking up the aisle of
church to marry me.
One day I overheard Sheila tell Cathy that she
was going to the mall after school to get new gym shoes. As soon as
I got home I jumped on my bike and head for the mall. As soon as I
got there I staked out the best spot and waited for her. About half
an hour later I saw her coming through the main entrance and up the
escalator. I had no idea what I was going to do or say but I knew it
was now or never and so I made my move.
When she was a few yards
away I grabbed my chest and started to make groaning sounds. (I
couldn’t think of anything else to do.) She ran over and grabbed
me as I fell to the ground. She asked me if I was okay but I ignored
her and pretended to be dying. Others began to crowd around and
Sheila held my head in her lap as I continued to make gurgling
noises. As she stroked my head with her soft gentle hands I uttered
as faintly as I could: "Please….help…..I need …..mouth to
mouth resuscitation." Sheila then pinched my nose and began to
blow into my mouth. After a few precious moments I pretended to
regain consciousness and sat up. The crowd began to disperse and
Sheila helped me to my feet. Off in the distance I saw a mall cop
and a guy that looked like a paramedic coming so I told Sheila to
follow me. She and I then ran to the food court and hid in the
service corridor behind the Hot Dog On A Stick and Orange Julius.
"Are you okay,"
Sheila finally asked, "Shouldn’t you let the paramedic guy
look at you?"
"No, I can’t," I
told her, "I’m too embarrassed and I think I’m okay
now."
I then told Sheila that she
had saved my life and that I wanted to repay her by buying her a hot
dog at Hot Dog On A Stick. She seemed puzzled by the whole ordeal
but accepted my offer. As we sat at our little food court table to
eat our hot dogs I made up this story about being allergic to bee
stings and told her that I probably got stung and that was what
caused me to have my near-death reaction. She thought it plausible
and said that she was glad she had taken CPR in summer school the
year before. When we were done eating she told me she had to go
because she needed to get home in time to watch her little sister
before her mom went to work. I told her that I needed to go too
because I had to get new gym shoes. She then said that she, too,
needed new gym shoes and so we went to Foot Locker together.
At Foot
Locker I spent $25 on a new pair of Nikes (even though I had a new
pair sitting at home just like them). Before I bought them, though,
I tried on a few pairs and had Sheila tell me which ones she thought
looked the coolest. I then did the same for her when she bought her
Vans. Afterwards I asked her if she would mind going to Miller’s
Outpost with me to help me pick out a shirt for our school pictures.
I had about $24 left from my birthday money and used $22 of that to
buy the shirt Sheila picked out (which, incidentally, was one that I
already had). As we were walking toward the mall exit we passed The
Kingdom of Oz Video Arcade and I showed her that I still had $2 in
my pocket and challenged her to a game of Missile Command. She
accepted.
Then, sadly, she was late and had to get going. I walked
her home and then had to run all the way back to the mall to get my
bike. I may have failed at everything else I’ve done in my life
but on that day I got Sheila Patterson to like me. Believe it or not
Sheila and I got married in 1989.
|
Is There a Mooj
Minion Number in Your Future? There Is If You Click
Here!
| Only
three measly minion applications? Sad but true. Read
on and you'll meet the newest members of the Mooj tribe. Two
out of the three actually sound quite promising. |
| Meet
Minion 1263: Chuck Grape |
| Something Noteworthy About
Chuck: Chuck is a software engineer from Barstow,
CA. He claims that he only wears clothes from Chess King and has a tattoo
of a panther on his shoulder. |
| This Person's Minion Application Essay
(Abstract): I can't think of anything clever to
write. Please forgive me and allow me to enter your prestigious
affiliation anyway. |
| Meet
Minion 1264: Cindy Austin Goldberg |
| Something Noteworthy About
Cindy: Cindy lives in Carthage, TX and works at a
Circle K store. She is married and has six children (ages
9, 7, 6, 5, 3 and 1). Cindy believes in love at first sight and
claims that that is how she fell in love with her husband Jeff, who is
stationed in Saudi Arabia. |
| This Person's Minion Application Essay
(Abstract): I am now almost 30 years old and feel
that I have
wasted the best years of my life. I was born and raised here
in Carthage and I have never been farther away that 30 miles. I
long to see
the world. When I was in high school I dreamed about going
to Hollywood and becoming a star. Most of my
friends say that because I look and talk just like Anna Nicole Smith
that I
would have been a natural. Don't get me wrong I like being
me, it's just that...well, maybe someday I'd just like be somebody
else. In the meantime being a Mooj minion would
make me feel like a star so how about it? |
| Meet
Minion 1265: Denise Torres |
| Something Noteworthy About
Denise: Denise is 21 and lives in Oceana, CA. She
is a student at Cuesta
College. She is studying criminal justice and hopes to
someday work in law enforcement. |
| This Person's Minion Application Essay
(Abstract): I send you hugs. Lots
of them. |
|
|
From
The Logs of Jules Vermilion.... |
Humble Minions....
More Jules Vermilion navy adventures you ask? Sure, why
not. I got nothing else to add to this newsletter that might
otherwise improve it so I figure Jules might as well add a few of
his yarns to spice things up. Jules told me that this
particular episode is about his first time ever in the PI.
|
|
|
HAZE
GRAY and UNDERWAY
Part
3: Aim High Olongapo!
|
On
January 8, 1986 Nuclear Power Training Unit (NPTU) Balston Spa, MARF
Class 8502, was mustered for the very last time. Those of us lucky
enough to survive Nuclear Power School and then the additional six
months of grueling prototype training were officially awarded nuke NECs
and given orders to the fleet. Then to add some hilarity to the
otherwise solemn ceremony, those stupid enough to do so then stepped
forward and re-enlisted for $30,000 and immediate advancement to E-5.
As I mentioned before most of us getting our orders that day were
being sent to the USS Enterprise. Many of my classmates were puzzled
by these orders (some were even outraged) because the vast majority
of nukes in my class were sub volunteers. I, however, was delighted
with my orders since I got exactly what I asked for—a West Coast
surface ship (albeit a carrier not a cruiser). We Enterprise-bound
sailors didn’t know it then but we were extremely fortunate
because there were just too many of us arriving on the Pig at one
time to be of any use to anyone. All of us—to a man—would literally
skate for months before anyone even noticed that we were even there. As a
result westpac 1986 was pretty much a pleasure cruise for us until we
finally had to qualify BNEQ and join our real divisions.
As soon
as the NPTU graduation / re-enlistment ceremony was over I jumped into
my fully loaded ’77 Pontiac Lemans and headed west. I had 30 days
of leave to use up and I wanted to spend as much of it as I could in
my hometown of LA. I’ll
never forget how happy I was too see that giant "DIG" ball
in my rearview mirror for the last time.
On 12 January, 1986 I was
probably somewhere near Terre Haute, Indiana when The Enterprise
departed NAS Alameda, California and begin her 12th
official deployment. Seventeen days later she steamed into Pearl Harbor
and spent four days loading supplies and weapons (and probably the
airwing). Most of us know exactly where we were on that day [that The Enterprise sailed into Hawaii] because
it was the day that The Challenger blew up.
On February 20 my leave
officially expired and I flew from LA to Oakland with Kevin Kidder and Joe Carl, two of my Enterprise-bound MARF classmates
also taking
leave in southern California.
By then The Enterprise had been in Subic Bay for three days. On the
night of February 21 I met dozens of my MARF classmates at
the Oakland International Airport, and together we boarded a Flying
Tigers 747 headed to Clark AFB in the Philippines (via Anchorage,
Alaska and Kadena AFB). Since it was the dead of winter each one of
us showed up at the airport wearing our dress blue uniforms. That is except for
Biff Shiver, who was wearing casual summer whites. I remember
we all thought he was an idiot until he informed us that he called
and found out that in the "tropical" Philippines, summer
whites were the uniform of the day all year round. (He was
right. When we arrived in the Philippines 18 hours
later we looked like fools in our winter wool uniforms when it was
so hot and humid outside.)
At that exact moment in time a
revolution broke out in the Philippines because the defeated Ferdinand Marcos
tried to steal the presidential election from Corazon Aquino. When we
arrived at Clark AFB, martial law had been
declared by Marcos and we were literally stranded at the air terminal because
no one was brave enough to drive us to Subic Bay. I remember
we were all sitting in a navy bus listening to the radio when the music
was abruptly silenced and rebels announced that they had taken over
the radio station. We kept flipping the dial hoping to find
something good to listen to but every time we found something we
liked another rebel group showed up and took over that radio station
as well.
Finally a driver arrived that knew a "back way" to Subic
and decided to go for it. He then drove us along some of the most scenic and
desolate roads I had ever seen. Today, whenever I drive through
Lancaster County, PA and some Amish farmer is burning something in
his fields I am reminded of that drive because of the way PI smelled that particular day.
As we drove along
through tiny villages I remember seeing many soldiers standing
around and wondering if they were friendly or unfriendly toward
Americans. Most of us were worried since we were pretty much sitting
ducks if they were anti-American. Finally we arrived at Subic Bay
and the base was "locked down." No one could leave
or enter the base but somehow, and I don’t know how, the bus driver
was able to get us onto the base.
When the driver arrived at the
pier where the Enterprise was supposed to be, it was gone. Because
of the political situation in the Philippines The Enterprise was ordered
out to sea a few
hours earlier. We were ordered
by the beach detachment to check into the Subic Bay TPU and then
show up at Cubi Point, NAS early the next morning. By the time we were
all checked into TPU news began spreading that Marcos had been
exiled and the revolution was over. Shortly thereafter the base lock down
was lifted and the gates were opened. Most of us were exhausted (I
personally had not slept in 2 days) but the allure of finally seeing
Olongapo (after all we had heard about it) was more important than
sleeping. Like fools we changed into our civilian clothes and
ran for the main gate. Just about everyone we met along the way
warned us not to leave the base but we did so anyway. As soon as we
passed through the main gate we saw with our very own eyes the
wonderland known to all Pacific fleet sailors as Olongapo City. Although
none of us had ever been there before we knew this place
inside and out from all the sea stories we had heard.
But there was something
eerie about Olongapo that day—it was quiet. Too
quiet. With the exception of one person (that
person being MTW) we turned around and returned to the base.
The next morning we all mustered at the crack of dawn and began our odyssey of trying to get
to the Pig. (Although she was only a few miles away, this would
become a
major ordeal.) As we stood at muster that morning someone noticed
that MTW was missing. We had no idea what happened to him
and wondered if he made it back to the base alive. (He did, but he had
one hell of a tale to tell.)
(to be continued next week)
|
|
Well,
That's It Folks....... |
I hope you enjoyed
this week's edition of The Mooj Weekly Standard and that you'll
come back for more. I certainly will! Best of luck to all.
|
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