Showing posts with label big brothers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label big brothers. Show all posts

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Lackland: The Basics on BMT


For those of you who are unaware -- as I was up until about two months ago -- Lackland AFB is the only location for Basic Military Training for the U.S. Air Force. It is a mammoth spread of 4.3 square miles and every single airman has endured boot camp here since 1947, when the USAF became its own branch. Boot camp terms have changed over the years; it's now about 8.5 weeks.

Jamie, my Little Brother since 1997 through Big Brothers Big Sisters, is 18. He was always kind and bright and well-intentioned, but he had a joke of a lower-school education, no study skills to speak of and very vague life intentions with no road map to get there. He also was starting to get into some minor trouble largely out of boredom and driving his mom nuts. So he enlisted in the Air Force and shipped out in January.

Until he ran by on Thursday morning during the traditional Airman's Run, we hadn't seen him at all. During boot camp, they have no phone, iPod, email, or other means of communications other than writing letters and, if he earned it, a few phone calls out. His mother received two or three calls, his girlfriend Melanie received four or five calls and those of us who wrote him received some letters. (I got three.)

So the first time we saw him since January was this moment...


...when he ran by us singing a "jody," the term for those holler-and-call ditties they and their TIs sing. Here's his flight (in grey) coming our way behind the green group.


The next time we saw him was a few hours later at his Coin Ceremony. This is when he receives his Airman's Coin, a token of his accomplishment that he is to have with him at all times, and recites the Airman's Oath. Evidently if he's in a bar and he doesn't have the coin, he has to pay. Or something like that. This was supposed to take place in a large square with all the week's recruits -- about 400 in all -- but torrential rains caused plans to change. Instead, we saw him get his with his and one other flight under the huge concrete overhang of his dormitory.

When we saw him for a second time, he was standing at attention and not permitted to acknowledge us. He looked so serious, see?

After the ceremony was over, he could not be at ease until we approached him. And that was a very wonderful but strange moment. He seemed a little overwhelmed by the sudden break in the numbing routine of exercise, make-work, intimidation, rules and isolation from his normal world. But then the sun came out! Here we are:


We had him until about 6 p.m. that night on base, and mostly we talked a lot. Jamie really wanted Burger King, but when we got to one, they, uh, had no burgers because the broiler was down.


So instead we made it to this mammoth Base Exchange with all sorts of fast food and stores...


...including a Claire's, a GameStop and hallway kiosks selling crapolina.


As you can see, Jamie shook off his awkwardness pretty quickly thanks to...

Baskin Robbins!

We all quickly became accustomed to a new Jamie, one extremely concerned about the scuff on his shoes, about the rules -- he can only eat sitting down, must wear his hat outside but not inside, must keep his clothing perfectly clean, can't show too much affection in public -- and about what he's doing with his life. But an ice cream sundae is still a delight and he actually concocted a list of foods he hoped to have over this weekend, every one involving sugar.

Friday was graduation day, which meant a big parade on the parade grounds. The perimeter of the grounds is lined with various models of planes that we'll get to take a closer look at on Sunday.

To give you some idea of just how many men and women graduate boot camp EVERY week, this is a shot of the entire graduating class for March 27, 2009:


One thing that struck me is that there were lots and lots of people from all over the nation there to show their pride for their relatives and their nation and, unlike the phony for-show patriotism of folks at NASCAR or NRA events, notice something interesting about this crowd shot?


Besides the three in the second row with their cameras pointed at me -- Jamie's mom, grandma and girlfriend -- the reason I like this photo is because you'll notice not a single person is decked out in red, white and blue. They don't need to prove to anyone they love their country. I was surprised and certain I'd be smothered by the Stars and Stripes.

Of course who needs red, white and blue when you've got swag like this...


Everyone was so proud. I just love this shot with Jamie:


And there's a very proud momma...


After the graduation ceremony, which involved lots of marching and patriotic songs from the band, Jamie was able to show us his dorm. Here's what it looked like from the outside:


That's the aforementioned dormitory and overhang where the graduation occurred. I'm kind of embarrassed to say I didn't shoot anything of the dorm room, a large room with lines of beds, both bunk beds and singles, with neatly tucked wool blankets. I'll grab some off Jamie's dad, who did shoot some, and post them another time, but here he is at his locker:


And this is his clothes drawer...


We walked a ton all over Lackland on Friday before leaving the base for San Antonio, the Riverwalk and the Alamo. I'll conclude this post with something that reminded me of Nevada...


Nellis! As in our hometown AFB! Speaking of which, yes it is possible Jamie could end up there. He is off on Monday to Sheppard AFB in Wichita Falls, Texas. He landed the job he wanted, munitions, and now he goes for his 8 weeks of training, then gets a couple weeks off to come home before he is stationed somewhere. Could be Nellis, could be Italy. He put in a list of preferences which could be considered, could be ignored.

That's it for the moment. More tomorrow.

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Nice work, U.S.A.

On Wednesday night, I'm off to San Antonio to see my Little Brother, Jamie, graduate from boot camp at Lackland Air Force Base. There will be much more on this over this important weekend, but I just got something in my email I felt compelled to share.

Just two months ago, this was Jamie in the lighter-blue hoodie.


Now look at him!


For now, enough said. The weekend ahead will be full of emotional observations but also, likely, a lot of fun. We'll get to take Jamie off base for at least one but maybe two days this weekend and we're heading to Sea World on Saturday. I can't wait to see how he reacts after having been deprieved of all his creature comforts -- Internet, email, cell phone, iPod, TV -- for so long.

[P.S. Any readers down there who want to meet up, email me. I suspect I'll have downtime in the evenings.]

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Jamie Goes To Boot Camp


I'm having a little trouble today getting going, wondering what my Little Brother, Jamie, must be doing right now on his first day of Basic Military Training at Lackland Air Force Base near San Antonio. Yesterday, he and five other recruits squeezed into a nondescript office in eastern Vegas to be sworn in. Then we all went to the Buffet Asia, a Chinese buffet place that Jamie's step-grandfather chose and paid for. (Weird sighting: Legendary art critic Dave Hickey and his wife, former Las Vegas Art Museum director Libby Lumpkin, having lunch.)

No, Jamie's not my son. But he has been my "kid" since he was 6. He made the decision to enlist not out of some overwhelming sense of patriotism but for the same reasons that prompt so many other young kids: He was utterly failed by the public education system and cannot afford college. He wants to do something with his life, and at 18 this is the best way he can think of moving forward.

Indulge me -- or don't -- but it's quite an emotional experience for all of us. It was only yesterday that we were sneaking into pools on the Strip for a pool-rating piece I did for the LA Times and others. Then he also came along to rate Vegas wildlife for the same papers a year or so later. And I had to defend my very right to be his Big Brother in the BBBS program against attacks by gaybashers on CNN along the way, too.

How did he go from this...


...to this...


...to this...


...to this!!!


My favorite was this 1-minute video his mother made while I was living in China in 2001. I had totally forgotten all about it until just now. You can click on it to watch if you want:

I'm sure he'll do OK. But it's scary. Also scary: What all that candy's done to me! Time for a diet and some boot camp for me, too!

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Halloween Fun!

One of the things I'm most grateful about is that Jamie, the Little Brother I've mentored through Big Brothers Big Sisters since 1997, managed to have made it to 17 without ceasing to enjoy the fun, creative traditions of childhood. There was no hesitation when I called up to suggest we take a hoard of pumpkins to my friend Natalie's house in Henderson so we could carve them with her, her two boys, one of our other friends, Rose, and Rose's two boys.

Oddly, when we all got right down to it, the little boys -- ages 2 through 9 -- showed no interest whatsoever in the craft. Try as we might have, they could not be riveted from their Charlie Brown cartoons, so it ended up being me, Jamie and two grown women around a patio table enjoying a youthful throwback experience over adult conversation. Not bad, really.

Above to the left is a pic of me and Jamie with our results and above to the right is a shot of the ones that Natalie and Rose created on behalf of their kids. I was also impressed by this yard in Natalie's neighborhood (left), especially considering that this (right) is all Miles and I could be bothered with!

I spent this afternoon roasting the pumpkin seeds from all those gourds, which is like crack to me and I'll have to have Miles regulate my intake. But mostly I'm trying to figure out why, for the second year in a row, my carved pumpkin is starting to cave in and get all gross just one day after it was cut up. Is it my imagination or didn't these things used to last longer when we were kids?

Anyone have any suggestions for preventing pumpkin spoilage long enough to make it to, uh, Halloween?

Sunday, August 26, 2007

Friday At The Tank With Jamie

I'm working on a travel piece on animal attractions in Vegas and so I had to go to the Golden Nugget to try out The Tank, the $35 million pool with a 200,000-gallon shark-filled saltwater aquarium plopped in the middle of it (see the tube above Jamie's head to the right). This being Vegas, there's also a slide that hurtles you through the center of the aquarium. As usual, I dragged along Jamie, my almost-17-year-old Little Brother. (That's him above to the left. I'm the one to the right looking momentarily a lot younger than my almost-35 years.)

The slide is terrific, although the lines are probably quite long on the weekends, and the scenery is certainly a huge step up from the old Golden Nugget pool area that was actually shuttered for part of the year and turned into a makeshift poker room.

Good news is that, while the pool is intended for hotel guests, by law they must admit you if you say you're going to gamble at one of the three poolside tables. Don't know if that means you can bring along your kids, though. Also, local Nevadans are permitted in for free with a Nevada ID after 6 pm.

Monday, July 30, 2007

The Strip's LIVE on WEDNESDAY This Week

Just a quick note to let everyone know we're recording the live show on Wednesday, not Tuesday, this week. The good news is that the podcast will ALSO go up late Wednesday because I'm off to L.A. for the weekend with my Little Brother to catch the X Games on Thursday.

We can't say who the guest is this week yet b/c it's between two stars, one already recorded and another which may be coming in in the next day or two. In fact, the reason we're holding out to Wednesday is to see if I land the bigger star in time for this week's program. But the lesser star said some very, very shocking things in my interview with him, so either way this week will cook.

See ya Wednesday from 7-8 pm PT on LVRocks.Com. Or see ya on your iPod.

Sunday, July 15, 2007

Sunday At The Trop Pool With Jamie

It was much too hot Sunday to do anything other than swim, but where to go? My 16-y/o Little Brother Jamie and I weren't in the mood to rub elbows with the neighbors in the unremarkable pools at either of our complexes, what with the Las Vegas Strip just up the way. And thanks to one of our most celebrated past journalistic collaborations, we know the ins and outs of every pool of any importance in Vegas, and the Tropicana is the best unguarded option. The Flamingo is also pretty good and usually easy to enter, but they do occasionally have guards asking for ID and we just weren't in the mood, the high being 108 and all, to do battle.

Amusingly (see pic above right), the Trop now has a sign we hadn't ever noticed before warning us to "be prepared to show Hotel I.D." We never saw a suspicious soul again. What's more, they provided towels!

Tropicana, why do we love thee? Well, for starters, unlike most pools on the Strip, it's more than three feet deep. The crowds tend to be lighter, especially on hot Sunday afternoons, and that pounding 20-foot waterfall (see beyond Jamie's shoulder) always feels so nice. The Trop also seemed to have a fair mix of young hotties and unappealing oldsters rather than one or the other, which always makes people like us feel out of place. (...since crashing the pool of a hotel we're not staying at never bothers us much for some reason.) I will say, however, that the guy to Jamie's left in the waterfall shot had piercings in both nipples and a colorful Speedo, both inappropriate for someone on the far side of his flabby forties.

I was a little surprised by one thing: The swim-up blackjack tables indicated you can't play unless you're a hotel guest. That seemed to fly in the face of recent information we'd heard that the very presence of gaming means that the pool must be in some way open to at least the gambling public. On the other hand, I wonder how they could handle people's money in the pool, so I wonder if I had gone inside the casino and gotten some chips, would that have covered me? But what is the policy, that's what I need to find out.

OK. I was surprised by two things, actually. Wi-Fi at the pool is a good idea. Wi-Fi for $14.95 is extortionist. I wonder if this is a separate fee from what a hotel guest would be charged in the rooms. Or maybe there isn't any Wi-Fi in the rooms at the Trop? Entirely possible. But still. That's probably the highest Wi-Fi fee I've ever seen anywhere.

Also, why does it look like an egg? And read that sign carefully, please. Check E-Mail! Chat With Friends! Keep In Touch With Associates! Does anyone who would possibly wish to be online by a pool really need an explanation of the thrilling benefits of the Internet! I'm a little stunned it doesn't also say, "Find a sex partner for tonight!"

Sunday, May 27, 2007

My Awesome Little Bro

I'd been meaning to post these and this holiday-weekend lull seems just the time.

As many of you know, I have a Little Brother (from Big Brothers Big Sisters), Jamie. I "got" him when he was just 6 and this August he turns 17. He's graduating from high school next month (a year early) and he's always been really into dance in addition to the more typical teen-boy pursuits of skateboarding, video games, odd hairstyles and girls.

This is a unique, amazingly self-possessed and easy-going kid and I'm incredibly proud to have been a part of his upbringing. He has also, over the years, been a fixture in my writing, whether it's when we snuck into 21 pools on the Strip and graded them for the L.A. Times or when we went backstage at the Boom Boom Huck Jam for the Boston Globe so he could meet his motocross and skateboarding idols. He and his family were also incredibly supportive of my need to speak out when some religious right nutjobs attacked Big Brothers Big Sisters for allowing gay adults to be mentors, which I did in an op-ed piece that ran in several papers around the nation and led to a CNN appearance.

Last weekend, I joined his family at the historic Boulder Theatre (owned by Desi Arnaz Jr.!) in quaint Boulder City for his recital. Here are a few pictures of him doing his moves. I wish I had a program so I could tell you what's what in here: