James’ transition back to the land of the Great PX

For those of us not in the know, the Land of the Great PX was coined at some point over the years based on the perception of America. As it plays out, when the US establishes Army posts and Air Force bases overseas, labor is needed on those facilities to free US personnel to attend to more essential tasks.

Typically the indigenous help is in staggering awe of the amenities that come with US military forces: the snack bars, the bowling alleys (also with snack bars, Aloha!), the movie theaters… and especially the commissaries and, wait for it, the Post Exchange!

Yes the indig do by and large sum up the concept of America by the embodiment of the great PX; many making it their life quest to make it over to the land of the Great PX!

James and Conan both had a very deliberate plan for when they got out. They had a plan by the short hairs, a target in the crosshairs, a hare-brain scheme, and a clear mission focus. James moved to Las Vegas Nevada to work as a contractor for the Department of Energy.

James settled in to a picayune process of managing several insignificant tasks and endeavors that even the mundane would yawn at. But that wasn’t going to fit the plan; no not at all. With his hook into the DOE, James was done with phase one of his plan (establish foundation), and was now focusing on phase two: bring in more confidants from Delta.

I was hoeing in our backyard garden with my Mrs. one eve thinking of what lay ahead for me back at the Unit. I had nine months in the Balkans and three more on the way. I was suddenly embraced by the overwhelming sensation that I was tired. Not ‘huff-puff’ tired, but head-shaking spitting tired, and I needed to throttle back. Ten years had been a good run for me in Delta. My body meant well and could still answer the bell, but my mind was hinting at revolution. I know, I know… you say you want a revolution, well you know, we all want to change the world.

Bolstered by the juggernaut expiration of my term of obligation to the Army, I stood suddenly straight up and announced matter-of-factly to my pruning Mrs: “My enlistment is up; I’m getting out of the service.” My musing Mrs. mentioned modestly: “I totally support your decision.” …and I hoed on, because when you feel yourself slipping, well you got to hoed on. Suddenly I noticed the sweet aroma of flowers, tomatoes, peppers and melons that rallied me gingerly. Stress-induced tunnel senses were being reacquainted with a more amicable realm, you see; that’s just how it went.

A very harrowing climb of Mt. Rainier for the squadron; James is in front, just right of center, holding an ice axe.

I left the service and went to school to study IT network engineering. James got wind of my departure and immediately started calling me nightly with analogue knife hands of demand that sprang from the apparatus and menaced to collapse my chest.