11 June 2012

Nick,

I am currently working in Bhutan and just finished your book. Loved it. Being one of those adventure types you so diligently described and having read a fair amount on Antarctica, it was refreshing to get behind the scenes. Ironically (or not) its caused me to want to go there and work as a garbageman.

But actually I’m writing because you left one item open ended. I found myself wanting to know the results of the tape measurement. You left us hanging (pun intended). Do tell

[T]

Dear [T],

While our culture has seen fit to brand sexuality as a disease in the workplace, for reasons pragmatic and civil, there are yet rogues of all sexes who insist upon flirtation and salty banter as a soothing unguent to temporarily treat the musty bureaucratic conundrum.

Nick

Humble servant,

I’m in a country where they paint erect penises on their homes for a religious reason, and even prior to coming here, I am quite aware that salty banter is not just soothing in a bureaucratic environment. Its the anti-facade we all secretly (or not) desire to defer to daily.

I’ll interpret your employment evaluation as the possibility that your female companions are enjoying themselves. And share that I’m hanging out with a Bhutanese man who would not get a 4 out of 5 on his overall evaluation but would get strong points in certain criteria. So be it.

[T]

Dear Nick,

Just concluded reading the final pages of your book…checked out ex the Concord Public Library. Very enjoyable, mainly for having been stationed overseas with the U.S. Navy in 1977-1979 in Naples, Italy as a much younger man. I wish we could have lunch some day over Top Ramen and Hormel Chili, the food getting cold under a long winded confab of Evil Powers, exemplar gratis.

There are countless similarities worth a damn to speak of which you and i may attest. One of those being the end of your “tour” when HR begins lint picking and such. Our Command on base had in 1978-79 mandatory drug testing, all because some clown from CONUS was shipped a couple pinner joints of headache pot through the mail. Dubbed “OPERATION GOLDENFLOW” it was a sham ex the very start since the very person popped for the offence worked in Navy Personnel, spreading the word of the how and whys and whens would occur — I think it was odd/even digits of your Social Security number that determined who pee’d first — so after all the testing we had all been “clean” for days or so.

Anything happen like that at McMurdoo? Do tell…

[R.O.]