There are two questions a man must ask himself:  The first is "Where am I going?" and the second is "Who will go with me?"  If you get these questions in the wrong order you are in trouble.
                            -Howard Thurman

The idea above is something quoted in the book that I'm reading.  It's on a similar level as "Perfecting Ourselves".  A lot of us need to keep this idea in mind.

This weekend was pretty interesting.  I think that the worst part was Friday.  There is this thing that seems to happen where work gets saved up and unleashed at the last possible minute.  I would love to see the logic behind the thinking.  For some reason, the Brigade XO decided to hold a run through of a presentation that would be given on Monday.  Not a bad idea.  It's always good to work out the kinks.  However, he decided to hold it at 1600 (4 PM for you civilians) on a Friday.  Now, I didn't have to be a part of this, but I DID have to be a part of the after effects in which we fixed the slides.  I let work somewhere around 2000.

What actually happened was that I made changes to the slide, and sent it to my sub-boss (a captain).  Meanwhile, I left my thumb drive in the computer that I was working on, while I went to his office.  At some point while I was gone, someone locked the door to the building that I was working in, and no one knew where the key was.  Well, we thought that we had the key, but apparently it didn't work.  I watched as the CQ stuck the key in, and it not turn.  Now, my pick set was at home, because I decided to stop carrying it on me, and all my work was locked in the building, and anyone else who had the key had left, and would take 2 hours to get back.  I tell mu sub-boss that there's nothing that I can do.  We (I) decide that we should go home.

Unfortunately, my bag is still in the building.  The bag has my book, and my ipod, and some other stuff.  Also, I needed my thumb drive.  I'm thinking about going home to get the pick set, when I have an idea.  I go and tell the CQ that I want to try the key again.  When we get to the building, I tell him to give me the key.  I stick it in the lock, confirming that it didn't work.  However, I have dealt with so many locks that I know that sometimes, if the key isn't cut perfectly, it will go too deep and not hit the pins correctly.  I back the key out a millimeter or so, and turn.  Open Sesame. 

Should I tell anyone about this?  Hell no!  I want home, which is where my beer is.  I definitely wouldn't tell that Captain.  I had a well worked time for the last two weeks, because he was out of the office.  For some reason, when he's around, he is always asking for "stuff".  Some type of slide, some annoying thing, some series of tasks that I could care less for, because they just barely touch on to my job.  He's the same person that will actually call me on my cell phone to ask me for stuff late in the day.  I'm talking 1700. 

My ritual works like this:  Once 1645 (4:45 PM) hits, I begin a 30 minute countdown.  If no work comes at me in that time, I am going home.  If I am already working at that time, I simply push the count back until I am done.  My choice of time is based on the fact that people in other offices leave around that time, thus making it impossible for me to get any additional information.  The other day, he called my cell phone while I was at home.  Somehow, whenever I send him my slides, his computer does something to mess up the layout.  I'm not sure why it happens, but I have a pretty sound theory.  I just don't care enough to actually go in and figure it out.  He also tried to call me today.  All I saw was a missed call message, with the office phone number.  Um, sorry, but no.  It's just busy work.  Avoiding him is the key to my survival and sanity.  I think he only has 2 months left here, anyway. 

Black 6, out.

Well, it's been a while.  Work is no less hectic.  It's actually more hectic.  And annoying.

This weekend was supposed to be a relaxing one, and someone was supposed to come visit me.  It was part of last week's plan, but that was sidelined until this weekend.  That was the plan.  However, the day before she was going to arrive, I get a text message saying that she'll be late.  It's not s big of a deal as the previous week, in which I had wanted to go to the movies.  The next day, she tells me that she won't be coming up, primarily because she says she had a stressful week, and wants to relax for the weekend.  That pretty much screws me, because there weren't many plans, but the idea for the weekend did revolve spending time together.  Later on, I get a message about how she's at a the beach with a "shitty magazine" and ignoring her surroundings.  Apparently, a weekend with me ranks below a place that you hate, with a bad magazine.  The next day, she tells me that there's a train leaving her area soon, and wants to know if she should come up.  I tell her that it's her choice.  She chose not to come, AND got pissed off at ME.  Things just don't make sense.  We haven't talked for the weekend, but I managed to have a good time without her.

On a lighter note, I recently noticed my changes in financial panic.  For example, when I was a cadet, panic set in when my checking account had less than $100 in it.  I think the first time I really paniced was after buying mothers' day gifts my freshmen year.  I think that put me at having $90 to my name.  When I was in IOBC, the number was somewhere around $300.  Maybe $400.  Thanks to the asinine system that the army had set up for that TDY period, this was a much visited area.

I have been spreading out my Amazon.com purchases lately, so I don't spend myself broke, and because I cannot read everything all at once.  However, I was looking at buying some things and that financial fear hit.  My checking account is below $1000.  I think the biggest problem is that every amount of money is the most that I've ever had, so I really have no idea how far it can go, and how spending now will work in conjunction with receiving the next paycheck.  It's as though I fear some phantom expense flying at me.  FOr example, here's a general snapshot of my financial situation looked like since September 2001:

That big yellow area represents the total of all the accounts.  The second one is where I remove the money that I put away in my TSP.  When it's negative, it meant that my debt exceeded what I had, which was my credit card, and the cadet loan is not included.  The huge spike is hen I received the money that I had saved from downrange.

I seriously wonder when I'll get out of this "thrifty" stage.  Will there come a day, where I'll complain that my account is under $10K, and decide to put off buying a book until the next month?  What is a respectable panic level?  I mean, it's not like I'm buying a yatch or mega-yatchs.  There are a few monthly spending binges.  For example, once or twice a month, Amazon.com gets a little over $100.  I mean, it's not like I'm buying shoes.

Black 6, out.

Nothing like a worthless, 14-hour workday to make you think about drinking yourself into a stupor.? Yesterday, around 1800, someone decided that an 0800 meeting would be a wonderful idea.? So my boss decides that we need to hash out some stuff at 0630.? Well, that killed the idea of doing PT, and eating breakfast.? I was stuck until 1030, with no sign of caffeine or food.? I perform some actual worthwhile work from 1100-1200, and 1200-1400.? After that, I might as well have been dead.?

In fact, one piece of information that I've worked on, I've made so many variations of, that I have officially scrapped the original one, because the one that I created now, does a better job of being worthless than the other one does.? Let me simplify this piece of what I do.? I handle the budget, and we have money.? So I say, we have pizza.? And that the pizza has tomatoes, onions, yellow bell peppers, and chicken on it.? So I present this.

This is good for a day or two, until I'm told that I need to present the exact same pizza, but with the toppings on a different slide.? So I do that.? Then the toppings need individual slides.? So I do that.? A few days later, they want the pizza shown sliced.? So I do that.? Then they want an additional presentation with the pizza cut into squares.? So I do that.? THEN they decide that hey also need the pizza cut into pentagons.? This is the point where I imagine killing people.

So today's worthless task is to create a budget plan for the Battalions.? The original plan was to create a spending tracker.??? Certain things are designed so that there is a limit, such as the Government Purchase Cards (GPC).? Otherwise, they can do whatever the hell that they want with the money that I give them.? So there was a column called spent.? It's pretty obvious what that is for.? However, due to the items with restrictions (and there are maybe 2) there is another column called "allocated".? This creates a lot of empty space in the spreadsheet.? For some reason, it was decided that we needed to populate that space.?

Now, let's say that we allocate a battalion $300,000 to spend in the next 2 months.? The GPC has a $5,000 a month limit, and they already purchased their unit coins.? Now, there are a bunch of other items, Class IX (expendable), Class VII (major end items), etc.? At the Brigade level, we have an idea what we would like to set aside for these areas (it's not set in stone).? I had to sit there, with a captain (the reason that I had to sit there, otherwise I would have left hours ago), and populate the spreadsheet with what each Batt would spend of what we gave them.

The thing is, all?each Battalion commander sees is that they have $300,000.? They don't care what I put.? And I don't care, either.? Or all I care, they can buy cold beer and hot dicks.? All I'm going to do is say the amount that they spent so that we know what we have left overall.

My day was so bad that I drove 90% of the way home and decided that I wanted beer, so I drove back to post with the idea of buying a case of Guinness.? Somehow, I calmed myself down enough to get 1 6-pack of Sam Adams and a 6 pack of Guinness.? I have almost decided not to drink and play video games, but I have the day off tomorrow, so I will.

Oh, did I mention that I have to go in Sunday to go over this stupid spreadsheet with my boss and the captain.

Black 6, out.

I think that whenever I write a paper, I develop some localized form of ADD.  It is during these times that EVERYTHING seems better than writing the actual paper.  Simple things like, drinking water, putting my dishes in the sink, and staring at my screen until words come out of my fingertips.  At the same time, any task that I do takes twice as long to complete, or time simply moves twice as fast.  I mean, I pump out xanga entries like a champ, but papers require special parameters.

I also believe that there is something that prevents me from performing actual work until 2 in the morning and/or a few hours before an assignment is due.  I then knock it out, take my B+ and walk away.

About the assignment.  For this assignment, we had to do a peer review of someone else's rough draft of their final paper.  The swap was not 1 to 1, meaning that I gave my paper to one person, and I received a completely different person's paper.  Thanks to work, I've been busty as sin, and thanks to my school related condition, I put of reading the person's essay until the last day.  In theory, this wasn't supposed to be that hard.  Basically, I would read the thing, create an intro, talk about their writing method and how well their argument went, suggest improvements, add a conclusion and submit.  Kid stuff.  In theory.

Another thing that works "in theory": communism.

Now, this is grad school work.  You figure that if someone is putting off something until the last minute, they would at least send you a graduate-level panic product.  Last week, we had to email a copy of the rough draft to the person that would be reviewing our work.  I'm pretty sure that everyone's was sent out within the last 2 hours before the assignment was due. 

Have you ever been in a situation where you believed that you were the only person who was out of the loop and didn't get something?  You know, that point where you think you are , as smart as you are, the dumbest person in the class.  You go through this for a while, only to, as some random point, realize that there are only a handful of people who are smarter than you, and the rest are your level and below.  I always feel like this a some point.  I definitely feel like in in the other class that I am taking.  The class deals with law and copyrights.  I thought it would be cool, but it's getting more and more like a law class every week, and moving away form the computer stuff.  In the class you answer questions on cases each week. There are usually 15 or so topics, and you just work on three.  When I read some of the stuff that other people posted, I would have sworn that they were law majors or judges.  However, I soon realized that only a handful of people were posting to the weekly assignments.  The people that knew what they were doing, and two people that didn't (me and another person, and maybe a third).  I also realized that for at least one person, the class was their last one before completing their masters degree.  My stuff just sounded a lot less polished.

Back to the paper.  The assignment called for us to review the other person's work, and write a 4-6 page critique.  Simple task: read, regurgitate, review.  I open the document that I am supposed to review, and it's only 5 pages long.  I'm thoroughly upset.  Primarily because my rough draft consisted of 9 pages of body, plus an abstract, 2 pages of sources, and the cover sheet.  What I received was a 5 page body, with no list of sources (makes it hard to take a moment to look at their sources first hand).  To top it off, I need to write a 4 page article on a 5 page draft.  Also, it didn't have a title yet.  Throughout my review, I had to refer to it as "the article", "the work", "Johnson's article", etc. 

Reading through it, I come to the conclusion that this is a shell, at best, especially since the final paper has to be 12+ pages.  After about a page of typing, I'm ready to quit.  It's only 5% of my grade anyway.  Also, why am I the only one graded on this assignment.  I mean, my review gets graded, but nothing happens no matter what the draft looks like.  The writer could have wiped their butt with the paper, and I would fail. 

I decide that I need to stretch this out a bit.  Tactic 1: headings.  Nothing like taking the word "Introduction," centering it, and putting it right above the first section.  At each point where you look at something different, you skip a line and put the next section heading.

Tactic 2, talk about everything.  Try to get at least 2 sentences out of everything you observe and read in the paper.

Tactic 3, quote the author.  Whenever you need to get more text, quote the author, and then talk about what the quote says.  Instant gold.  Plus, no matter what you say, it's backed by the writing of someone who is smarter than you AND published.  Hell, you can take the quote out of context if you like (I couldn't in this instance).   Unless your instructor is INTIMATELY knowledgeable about the information (or your instructor is the writer), there will be no verification of it's use, due to the fact that, at 12-20 pages per student for 20 students per class, there would be 240-400 pages of verifying.

Let me stop with the college tips right there, before some teacher reads this and decides to berate me in a comment.

Black6, out.

It's been a while.  There have been a bunch of stories, but just no time to tell them.  Between school and work, I have very little time to do the things I enjoy, such as sleep and have fun.

First off, I bought a new camera.  A video camera.  I purchased a JVC Everio camera.  Now, I know what you're thinking: "Damn, that's expensive!"  That's where the story comes into play.

I was at the PX eating lunch with my lifting buddy, and at some point, a guy comes out of the Power Zone (the section that sells electronics) pushing a cart with a large sound system in it.  My buddy goes, "looks like someone bought that Bose system that was going for half off."  I'm in disbelief.  Then he tells me that there's an XBox 360 selling in there for $150.  I don't really want an XBox, but who could pass up investigating.  I have him show me where he saw this.

Apparently, they were selling a bunch of stuff that was opened, at 50% off.  Actually, it was "an additional 50% off."  More on that later.  I see the XBox, but it's a core system, meaning that it doesn't have the hard drive, or the ability to connect to Live.  No point in buying that.  I continue to look around the table, and I spot 2 of the JVC cameras.  Again, they had been opened, and probably returned.  There was none of the packaging that kept everything neat either.

After some examination, I look at the price.  They have dropped the price from $497 to $372.75 (25% off).  On top of this, there was an ADDITIONAL 50% off.  Now, personally, I was planning to save up the $700 to purchase the 30 GB version, but I was now holding a 20 GB version, and it would only be $186.  I'm not stupid.  However, there was no battery in the box.  I walked over to the batter aisle, and saw that they cost $50.  There had to be a better way.  I simply asked if there was a battery for the system.  The sales person walked away, and then came back with one.  Needless to say, I purchased it then and there.

It's a pretty good camera.  Video is very clear, and I can literally look into someone's ear from across the street.  Yeah, it's pretty awesome.  This belongs right up there with the auction post.

Black 6, out.

The other day, I was in the office, and my work computer decided to die.  Well, it's still fine, but I think the boot sector was corrupted. While working with it, I got to a point where it was being uncooperative, and so I said "What the F**k?!"  The head NCO in the office looks over at me and says, "Sir, in this office, we don't swear like that.  We say 'What the F'" which is pronounced "eff".  I think it's bull$hi+ because I've heard more than my fair share of swearing in the office.  It also sounds pretty funny when saying it, especially if you stress the F.

Jump to later that night.  I've just finished one of the papers for my classes, and am looking forward to a solid 90 minutes of sleep before PT.  For some ungodly reason, my brain decided to evaluate how funny saying "what the eff!" really was.  I giggled a bit.  Hell I was tired, and it was funny.  15 minutes later, my brain is still running over this, and I am still giggling.  Sleep, however, will not come.  At some point, I passed out.  Thank goodness.

Last night, I was talking to Joanna, and for some reason, the topic came up of women and the games that they play with men.  At one point, I brought up the idea of the question "Do these pants make my butt look big?" and answering it with "No, your butt makes those pants look big."  Jump forward to later this afternoon, when I'm talking to her again.  Apparently, her boss decided to ask her opinion on pants.  Guess what she asked.  Joanna busted out laughing.  Eventually she explained the conversation to her boss, who thought it was funny, although she probably wanted to kill her at the same time.

Sunday night (the night that I was writing the paper), Italy won the World Cup.  I'm very happy with the outcome 1) because I hate France, 2) I was sure that there were going to be riots in the loser's country, and France was already a mess from the last one, so who cares 3) .  The highlight of the game, in my opinion, was the headbutt.  It was awesome.  I mean, I can't imagine receiving a headbutt like that, especially in the sternum.  Makes me want to make it part of my training.  For those of you who didn't see it, be thankful for youtube:

Black 6, out.

Ok, I drove down to Rome this weekend.  It was my first really long drive in Italy, as it was 5 hours long.  I need to figure out how to disable the governor in my car.  I was flooring the damn thing, it only hit 95 at top speed, and I was still getting passed form time time.  While there, I went to the beach, and got to see the outside of the Pope's residence.  Not much to see here people. 

Last week, I purchased a small air conditioning unit for my apartment.  It's getting over 90 degrees, and I'm sweating away the pounds, which is not necessarily a bad thing.  Anyway, I purchased a unit from the PX the day that they were restocked.  As I'm getting the thing loaded into my car, the worker that is helping me tells me that he just had a guy bring one of them back.  I'm guessing it was just a bad unit or something.

I drive the sucker home and notice that it's a 2 man lift, which in my case means that I can lift it myself.  I really wonder where they get the calculations for lifting.  3 floors later, it's in my apartment, and I set it up in my kitchen, since that has a standard wall exhaust port.  I point it toward the door, and let it run for a 30 minutes, and when I walk back into the kitchen, it feels awesome.  And I say that aloud:

"This is awesome."

So I decide to grab a cream soda from the fridge.  As soon as I step out of the stream, the room is still hot.  This made no sense to me, so I tried a little experiment.  I closed the shades, closed the door, and let the thing run while I went over to a friend's house.  Specifically, a friend with working AC.

6 hours later, I return to the apartment, and the room as dropped by 2 degrees C.  WTF.  Today I took the damn thing back, and tomorrow, I will be purchasing one from the Italian electronics store.

Black 6, out.

I've been kind of lazy with the posts, so there are a couple of things that need to be covered in the next couple of entries.  First there's the trip to Gardaland, my purchase of a new bike (long over due entry), the air conditioned fiasco, and my finished wood.

Last Saturday, my friends and I went to Gardaland which is an amusement park here in Italy.  It was the last weekends that two of our friends, Jay and Michelle, and their kids, would be spending with us before they moved to Fort Carson, Colorado. 
 

Let's get straight to the details.  The place is pretty large, not as big as Six Flags, but it's nothing to slouch at.  Actually, there's not much story in this.  However, I did take video.  Now, there is some mild swearing in some of the videos.  Nothing excessive.  Just screams of fun and such.

One of the earlier rides that we went on was this rather calf water rapids type ride.  It was cool, and Michelle got pretty soaked.  Meanwhile, the son totally hated the ride.  TOTALLY.  I'm not sure why, though.

The first "exciting this that we got on was a freefall drop.  Something simple and nice to get the blood flowing.  Also, the line was short, and it was hot outside.  Really hot.

This roller coaster was called the Blue Tornado, which reminds me.  All of the rides here are named in English.  Not sure why, though.  Anyway, I managed to capture half of it.  Then I think my finger accidentally hit the button and stopped recording.

This next ride was somewhat of a slow one, but what it did was invert you for extended periods.  I believe it was to shake the change out of you.

Good fun had by all, but boy was it hot.  I mean, I like the heat, but this was just annoying.  Ok, that was just a quick entry to get me closer to being up to date.  THe other stuff will probably be put in after I put up an entry about the upcoming weekend. 

Black 6, out

This entry has a lot of links, pictures, and some videos.  You may even find it slightly educational.  You have been warned.  Also, I have found out how to prevent the annoying delay that youtube puts on some videos' sound.

This weekend was pretty laid back, until I decided to do something.  This weekend's adventure had me going to Rome to visit a friend, Joanna:
 
who hails from Shetland.  Does she have an accent?  Yes.  Do I find it funny from time to time?  Yes.  Did I occasionally talk with an accent and she failed to comment/notice?  Most definitely. 

The adventure started with me trying to actually get to Rome via train.  After missing one train because I couldn't get a cab, I got the next one, which required me to change trains in Verona.  I learned that there are two stations in Verona.  Guess which one I got off at?  So I go into the station, in which there are no people, and read the train schedule.  What I didn't notice is that, for some unknown reason, the schedule for the OTHER Verona stop was posted in this station.  The one for the current station was there, only across the room, and not neatly behind glass like the wrong one was.  Eventually, I get on a train to the right stop, go to the ticket machine and find out when the next train is heading to Rome (I trust large automated electronic databases much more than a person behind the window.  Also, the computer doesn't care that I asked it questions and bought nothing).  I find that I can go to Bologna, and then change trains, and head to Rome.

I eventually get to Rome, probably around 2130, which isn't a problem, since Joanna had to work later than expected due to a party.  While I waited, I snapped this picture of the Colosseum at night:
 

Then she took me to a pub, and introduced me to some strong whiskey, which my body really wasn't ready for.  I forgot that I hadn't really eaten thanks to the train issue.  That, and I've never sipped anything as slowly as you're supposed to drink whiskey.  I quit that after one glass, maybe 3 fingers high.  We walked around for a bit and found a fair down by the river, and spent some time there.  My camera was in my bag, which was in her car.  The boot of her car, which is what they call the trunk.  Then we walked around for a bit and got lost, which is easy since Rome seems to be built like Washington D.C., eventually getting back to the Colosseum, where she was parked near.

The next morning I got a good tour of Rome, and actually ended up in at least 3 places where I was back when I went there with my grandparents when I was nine.  The first place we stopped was here:
 
There was no point to it.  Just where I took out my camera and snapped a picture of people snapping a picture in front of the place that I wanted to take a picture of.

Because I'm an idiot, I forgot to remember where this next fountain was, or what it's called.  Fell free to comment if you know the name:
   
 
I like how it looks like the people are looking at what the statue is pointing at.

It was hot as hell, but for some reason we kept going.  I think we were lost.

   
This is Triton Fountain.  I would write about it, but that's why I gave you the link.  You can go learn on your own time.

  
These are the Scalinata di Piazza di Spagna (Spanish Steps).  It's more of just a view from the top.  Fortunately, we went down from here, so that made life a bit more bearable.  The picture look like they are in reverse order because i like the zoom function on my camera.  The fountain is the Barcaccia (Ugly Boat) Fountain, which tourists will say looks beautiful, creating a wonderful irony.

Our next stop was the Fontana di Trevi.
 
This is one of the places that I remember coming to as a kid.

According to the tour guide that told me this as a kid, if you throw a coin into the fountain, you will return to the fountain later.  Of course, then, Italy was on the Lira, and this throwing thing was much cheaper.  According to the Wiki, if you throw two coins, you will fall in love with a beautiful Roman girl (or guy, for you women), and three coins means you will marry them.  This begs two questions.  First, If you're going to throw two coins, why not throw three?  Second, what's going to happen with the guy that poured the jar of coins in there?  Anyway here are videos of us throwing coins (one each, because I know someone will ask), into the fountain.

 
Next up is the Pantheon, which was converted to a church from a Temple of some Roman gods.  There would be video here, too, but Joanna said something that I won't post on the web, and when I tried to record again, I said something I won't put on the web, and on try number three, I was out of space on the camera.  Needless to say, I kept the videos, and then started erasing older things on my camera that I had already downloaded on my computer.

Now, various places in rome are ruins.  I think it's just an excuse not to build new stuff.  Anyway, the ruins show where the street levels were back in the day.  Apparently, the rest of Rome was built on top of everything else, saving them the work of actually cleaning up the original mess.
 
 
Now, on that whole statue thing.  I'm not sure what was up with the Romans and naked men.  In any case, if I were a powerful culture, I would make sure that statues, which were dedicated to our greatness, had more greatness where greatness should be.  They also stood the guy next to a horse.  Apparently, the horse is so "great" that it needs a pedestal.

The Romans liked to take things from other places:
 
In this case, they took this Obelisk from Egypt.  According to the Wiki, there are twice as many of these in Rome as there are in Egypt.  Probably to compensate for the statues.

Last place was the Colosseum, which had a really long line, and I didn't feel like playing with the train schedule again.  This brought my trip full circle.  The second fight with the train went a lot better, but was not without its issues.

Black 6, out.

Woohoo!  4-day weekend.  June 14 was the Army's Birthday (231 years old) and so we had an on post celebration, and the workday ended before lunch.  However, before that, there was other stuff to do.

I was volun-told to be a part of the Homecoming parade that we had.  (Gerald, it was almost exactly like a WP parade).  The day before, we had a practice for it, and we had people pass out.  Probably due to the heat, and the fact that our company had a party the day before, with lots of alcohol, due to the fact that we were changing commanders (I didn't attend).  Actually, no one rom our unit passed out, but one girl did vomit, but was able to get out of formation before she did.  Her face was the same color as her ACU's.  The next day (the 14th), during the actual parade, we had one guy pass out, as in tip over and go down. There were a couple in other units, too.

Later on in the day, there were festivities, culminating with a concert that included Lee Ann Womack, The Denver Bronco Cheerleaders, Lil Romeo, and Master P.  It was a pretty good time, and I forgot to bring my camera, but I guy I know recorded most of it, so I'll have that posted sometime.  I've never been a fan of Lil ROmeo, mostly because I listen to rock (Rise Against, Disturbed, etc) but his stuff was pretty good.  Also, seeing him made me want to go and do situps.  I mean, if my job was only to sing and look good, I would be more cut, too.

Thursday, I finally went to the wood shop to make my staffs.  I decided to go with octagonal, since I can't find a 6-foot lathe anywhere.  I started with a block that was 2.25" x 2.25" x 72".  The first task it to cut it into 4 long pieces.  When I started the first cut, the wood began to smoke.  I was using some purpleheart that I purchased a few years ago, specifically for this project.  I selected it for it's high density (57-76 lbs/cu.ft.)), and the fact that I could not get a straight, long piece.  Otherwise, I would have gotten lignum vitae, particularly for it's weight (at 77-80 lbs/cu.ft.).  Apparently, this was a bit much for the saw.  You can actually see some circular burn marks on the wood, which I think adds character.

I only messed up 1 bo, so now I gave 2 bos and 2 hanbos (half bos, 3 feet long).  The hanbo feels heavier than a baseball bat, and tapping it lightly against my shin was painful.

Today, I began finishing them with tung oil.  Don't worry, I already used jokes about getting tung oil for my wood, as well as many other quips about wood.

Black 6, out.