July 21, 2007
things to do in seattle, but only if you're a sailor
I flew in last night and arrived at 11:00 Pacific time, which was 1:00 AM for my Central Time Zone biological clock. Rob was supposed to be out at sea in the submarine and I was pleasantly surprised when picked me up. We stayed up talking until 2:30 (4:30 my time).
I woke up to the smell of cigarette smoke and the sound of a 4-year-old girl's voice. In my sleep-deprived brain I thought they were coming from the same person, my granddaughter, but of course they weren't. At least, I didn't think so. She is, after all, a sailor's daughter. I then drifted off to sleep again because, clearly, I needed more sleep if I thought she was smoking.
I didn't start my trip today for several reasons. Although the chance of rain was 70%, that wasn't the primary cause for my delayed start. The main reason was that I wanted to visit with Rob, his wife Jenn, and their daughter MacKenzey. I hadn't seen Rob for about 8 years, and that's too long for someone you helped raise.
Even if I had seen him recently I would've considered it time well spent because of the places he took me. First, we went to the Horse and Cow bar for lunch.
The Horse and Cow is a submariner's bar, known by every submariner in the country. It was originally in Vallejo but the base closed so it moved to San Diego. When that base closed it was moved here.
It was at the Horse and Cow that I learned about a ''Flaming Asshole," a mixed drink in which you stick a length of toilet paper in your butt, then someone lights the end on fire. While it's burning you run from the restroom to the bar and drink your shot. Obviously, you have a limited time. Oh, and did I mention you're not wearing any pants? (Do I need to mention it? Is it safe to assume that anyone who would light their ass on fire is drunk enough not to notice the breeze down below which might be caused from a lack of clothing?)
Looking at it from a medical perspective is somewhat interesting, too....
"Oh, that burn? Well, Doc, it happened like this...."
And the doctor's response:
"That's fascinating! No, not the location of the burn. The way you did it. The other 47 rectal burns I've seen were from college guys trying to light their farts."
I also learned about a "Duck Fart." Apparently, a rubber duck is filled with some type of toxic beverage, and you drink it by holding it over your head and squeezing it into your mouth. When the liquid is gone it makes a distinctive sound, something akin to... well, I guess you can imagine.
I'm just relieved to know our country is in good hands. It sounds like the troops are exercising (running from the restroom to the bar), staying hydrated (drinking plenty), and practicing good personal hygiene (using toilet paper).
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It was noon, and we had the place to ourselves. (Lest you think Rob and Jenn are negligent parents because they took their four-year-old to a bar, the Horse and Cow is a simple burger joint by day.) The bar was interesting with all of its signed banners, pictures, and other paraphernalia. One picture was of a submarine being ''depermed." That's when they remove the electromagnetic charge that develops as a boat glides through the water. The electromagnetic charge can enable it to be tracked so it needs to be depermed upon returning from a mission.... interesting, and not something I would have ever considered.
We had a burger and a Coke, then MacKenzey (four years old) beat me in a game of pool.
After we left, they took me to Harborside Park to see some fountains near the ferry. They were really cool.... The intermittent jets of water look like salmon jumping upstream. Click on the link to see:
Rob is a cook (well, much more than simply a ''cook" but we'll leave it at that) on a very Top Secret submarine. For supper he prepared a gourmet meal of salmon, steak, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Everything was prepared to perfection. He cooked for an admiral for three years while on shore leave in the early nineties and, as I said earlier, his skills are impressive. We stayed up until 2:30 trying to catch up but didn't come close.
Later that evening, in an attempt to get him to tell me more about his sub and its mission, I tortured him... first with corny dad jokes, then by telling stories of his childhood to his wife.
He didn't talk. Man, that is one tough sailor.
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