Breathe

Breathe in

Why are you looking at me like that?

Oh, I thought there was something wrong with me.

Breathe out.

Breathe in

Why are you looking at me like that?

Oh, you think I’m pretty.  Yeah right.

Breathe out.

Breathe in

Why are you looking at me like that?

A hug?  I guess there’s nothing wrong with that.

Breathe out.

Breathe in

Why are you looking at me like that?

Kiss me? Why would you want to do that?

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Why are you looking at me like that?

You want to put your hand where?  

Breathe out.

Breathe in

Why are you looking at me like that?

You want me to do what?  

Breathe out.

Breathe in

Why are you looking at me like that?

I don’t like that. 

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Why are you looking at me like that?

I want you to stop.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Why are you looking at me like that?

Get off.  You are hurting me.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Buried Alive (A True Story)

One evening, Betsy and I went to the Honch, an area filled with bars and nightlife outside of the Yokosuka base. We decided to go to New Tokyo, a bar that is frequented by many sailors.  I ordered an Amaretto Sour, my favorite drink.  Betsy was a month shy of turning 20 so I didn’t see what the big deal was.  So, I bought her a Strawberry Daiquiri, which has barely any alcohol.  Once we both had drinks, we had a great time just hanging out and talking about work.

Suddenly a couple of stools opened up at the bar.  We rushed to grab them before anyone else did.  As we were sitting at the bar, an older Filipino guy was standing close to us.  He said that he needed a straw so I grabbed one from the bar for him.   While Betsy and I were talking about work-related things, the guy was still lingering around.  I didn’t think anything of it.  As I began to space out while listening to a song, Betsy grabbed my arm.  I asked, “What is it?”  Betsy says, “That guy just grabbed my butt.”  I was shocked and didn’t know what to do.  "Just ignore him."  

We carried on with our conversation, trying to not let this ass freak us out.  A few moments later, I saw the guy grab her butt.  Then I snapped.  “Dude, what is your problem?”  He looked visibly drunk.  “I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”  He was slurring his words too.  His reply wasn’t good enough for me.   I decided to add some heat.  “Let me see your i.d. card.”  Surprisingly, he pulled a wallet from the back of his pants pocket, and then handed his i.d. card to me.  I looked for a rank and a name.  Once I found what I was looking for, I was really shocked with what I saw. I passed the I.D. card to Betsy.  "You're an E-6?" I asked the guy.  Both Betsy and I were E-3s.   The guy nodded.  "Where do you work at?”  The guy tells us that he works in Supply Department, which is one of the biggest departments on the ship.  Even though there are 5000+ people on the ship, I didn’t think it would be that hard to track him down.  

I gave him his I.D. card back, hoping that would be the hint to leave us alone.  Betsy and I tried to forget about all of this and have a good time, but the guy was still lingering around.  “Brooke, he grabbed my butt again.”  I was super pissed, but felt helpless.  

I found one of my guy friends, David, that was also in the bar.  "Hey Brooke, what's up?"  "Hey, can you come over here and tell this guy to leave us alone?  He won't stop grabbing Betsy's butt.  He's pretty drunk too."  David walked with me over to where the guy and Betsy was sitting at the bar.  "Hey man, you gotta go." David says to the guy.  "I'm fine, I'm not doing anything wrong."  I interjected.  "Dude, you keep grabbing my friend's ass.  That's not cool at all.  You're drunk.  You keep slurring your words. You're an E-6 and you should know better." "If you don't leave right now, I'm going to get Shore Patrol to come in here." David said.  The guy didn't want Security to get involved so he left.  I bought David a drink for helping us out.

I asked Betsy if she wanted to talk to Security about what happened.  She was afraid to report the incident because an incident that she had reported before was swept under the rug.  I also shared the same experience and result, but I strongly felt that the guy couldn’t get away with this.  Besides, we had witnesses.  I told her to at least think about reporting it.  

Monday morning, I asked Betsy if she wanted to go to Security to report what had happened.  She still wasn’t sure.  I talked her into it, telling her that I would go with her.  I also told my superiors what had happened.  The only thing that I wasn’t sure of was the guy’s name or which division he worked at on the ship.  I described what I knew of him to one of my supervisors.  He had an idea of whom I was talking about, but wanted to be sure.  My supervisor and I went for a walk, going through every Supply Department workspace until I saw a face that looked familiar.  I said to my supervisor “That’s him”.  He was in his utility uniform, with his rank displaying on the left arm and his last name sewn on his chest.  Delacruz.  I got a name.  That was all I needed.

Betsy and I went to Security to give them our statements.  This was a very lengthy process, as they wanted to know of every detail of that night—Where we went, who we were with, what we did, if we had any alcohol.  I didn’t think it would matter so I told him that Betsy didn’t have any alcohol.  Why?  Because not only would she get in trouble for underage drinking, I would also get in trouble for giving it to her.  I didn’t think there was a way for them to find out.  Besides, we were reporting an incident.  The Security people got the information they needed, then let us go.

The next day, my Chief got a phone call from Security.  They wanted to see me again.  Just me.  I thought, dammit, I’m in trouble.  When I reached the office, a superior wanted me to go into a smaller office.  He asks me again if my friend had anything to drink.  With a little hesitation, I told the truth—she only had one drink.  He tells me that they visited the bar, and the bartender told them that my friend had a a drink that night.  He says that I could have gotten into trouble for lying in a statement, but since I told the truth, he let it go.  The Security guy also tells me that the Filipino guy denied what had happened.  I explained to him that the guy was drunk, he was stumbling all over the place.  The Security guy tells me that the bartender told him that the guy was perfectly sober.  The bartender is Filipino, it makes sense.  I told the Security guy that we were telling the truth about what had happened that night, and that we had witnesses.  The Security guy dismisses me, telling me that the investigation was still underway.  

“Get your blues ready”, my Chief tells me.  “Because you contributed alcohol to a minor, we are forced to send you to Discipline Review Board, but it probably won’t go any further than that.”  This is such bullshit.  All I did was try to help a friend, and this is how I’m repaid?  I didn’t understand.  Betsy also had to go to the Discipline Review Board as she was being charged for drinking underage.  I was scared that I would have to go to Mast, maybe get put on restriction.  Since my friend and I were going through so much crap, I really hoped that guy would get his.  

Betsy and I waited outside of the board room, at parade-rest.  We were waiting for our names to be called to enter.  The Discipline Review Board consisted of every Chief in our Department.  My two Chiefs would be in there.  “SN Carman.”  My heart was pounding as I marched into room, making my corners as sharp as possible.  “Please, sit down.”  Each Chief asked me whatever question they wanted to ask—Did you know that your friend was underage?  A couple of Chiefs in the room were really hard on me, but my Chief stood up for me.  “SN Carman and SN Moore were out having fun, doing what every 19 and 20 year old person does.  It is not their fault that some guy decided to sexually assault SN Moore.  SN Carman did the right thing by reporting the incident to Security.”  After a few more questions, I was excused.  I was so glad that my Chief stood up for me.  I knew that he really cared.

The next day, I had to attend Delacruz’s Discipline Review Board as a witness.  I had to face a Master Chief and two Senior Chiefs.  They asked me a few questions regarding that night, and I told them the truth.  As I answered every question, the Chiefs looked like they were in disbelief.  Then, I was excused.  “Get your blues ready,” my Chief tells me.  “You have to go to XOI in 30 minutes.”  Oh my God.  I can’t believe that this is moving forward.  “We tried to keep this at Department level, but the Executive Officer demanded to see you.”  With that, I went to the TV Studio to change into my blues.  I walked down the three levels of steep metal steps to reach the Executive Officer’s office.  I saw Betsy standing, waiting.  We both couldn’t believe all of this was happening.  I also saw Delacruz standing outside.  A Master-At-Arms came from the Executive Officer’s office and ordered us to stand at attention.  I hate standing at attention.  I stared at the dried paint on the wall.  Whoever painted this wall did a shitty job.  There were a lot places where the paint dried as it was running.  I could hear Eminem blasting from the Executive Officer’s office.  This wasn’t good.  According to Smoke Deck talk, the Executive Officer liked listening to Eminem before an XOI because it gets him pumped up.  We were doomed.  

After a lifetime of standing, we were called to enter—Delacruz, Betsy, and myself.  We stood at attention as the Executive Officer spoke to us.  The XO sounded like a broken record, asking us the same questions that were asked before. Surprisingly, he was not that hard on Betsy and I.  He was more concerned with why we didn’t report the incident right after it happened.  The XO was really hard on Delacruz, telling him that he should know better because he’s an E-6.  With that, the XO tells us that he is moving this case to Captain’s Mast.  As soon as the XO dismissed us, I went straight to the smoke deck.  I chain-smoked three cigarettes.  I had never been to Captain’s Mast before.  Goodbye Good Conduct Ribbon.  Goodbye Advancement exam.  I was fucked.

A week later, Betsy and I stood outside of the Captain’s Office.  People kept walking by us, seeing that we were standing at attention.  “Carman, what are you going to Mast for?”  I was asked many times. “Contributing alcohol to a minor.”  Most people didn’t think this was that big of a deal.  “Carman, Moore”.  We walked inside the CO’s office, standing right in front of the CO, who was behind a podium.  I could see my chain of command standing to the right, facing me.  The CO asked me the same questions as before.  “Yes, Sir.”  “No, Sir.”  “Yes, Sir.” “No, Sir.”  The CO saw this as being an unfortunate incident and let it go.  Betsy and I just got administrative letters put into our service record.  Sadly, Delacruz just got a suspended bust to an E5 for 6 months.  I thought he should have gone down a couple of ranks for what he did.  But, what else could I do.

Try Something New, You Only Live Once

For some reason, people are afraid of trying new things—whether it is trying new foods, a new hairstyle, listening to new music, going somewhere new, doing something entirely new apart from the usual habit, etc…the possibilities are endless.  Why are most people afraid of trying something new?  Afraid of change?  Afraid of the negative impacts?  Afraid of what other people might think?  Are they afraid that they might actually like it?

I used to be afraid of trying new things.  Why?..Because I liked to stay close to home, stick to what was familiar to me.  While I was living in Japan, for awhile, I stayed away from sushi because the idea of eating raw fish was never appealing to me.  After much pressure, I decided to try it..you only live once, right?!  I started off easy with a cucumber roll, it’s only seaweed wrapped around rice with a thin strip of cucumber in the center.  That wasn’t bad at all.  Then, I experimented with raw fish—salmon.  At first, it was kind of weird but I already had it set in my mind that I wouldn’t like it.  It took another trip to the sushi joint to get me to appreciate, then LOVE, sushi.  Now, anytime I can get ahold of some sushi, it’s a real treat to me.  

In the end, you’ll never know you’ll like something unless you try it.  It’s okay to try new things, you might discover your new favorite.  Even if you don’t like whatever it is that you are trying, at least you can say that you tried it…and then try something else.

Waiting Room

Waiting Room—When most people hear these two words used together, they automatically think of waiting to see a doctor or sitting at a hospital.  Every one anticipates hearing bad news, but hope to receive good news.  Magazines are flipped through, cellphones are played with, and conversations with random people take place to make the wait a little easier.  

Have you ever thought of the Earth being one big, giant waiting room?  Time spent waiting in a room with four walls is just like our time spent here on Earth…the wait is only temporary.  We fill our lives with people, activities, jobs, etc. so that our time is more productive as we wait.  So when our name is Called, we hope to gain a ticket into Heaven.  

Train to Kofu (a true story)

        After a six-month deployment to the Arabian Gulf, I was ready for my first visit to Tokyo.  I had never been on a train in Japan, so I asked Sarah to join me.  Sarah had been living in Japan longer than me, so she knew the train system pretty well.

For the most part of the day, we walked around Shinjuku and Shibuya districts.  I was amazed with the many bright neon signs and how busy everyone looked.  We stopped at some jewelry stands, which also carried fake designer handbags.  Of course, I didn’t know any different because I didn’t even know what Louis Vuitton was.  

While Sarah and I were browsing at rings and necklaces, a long-haired Israeli guy approached me and asked if I could do a favor for him.  I was a little curious, so I asked him what the favor was.  He dared me to meet his friend around the corner and kiss him on the cheek.  I laughed at him and said “No way!”  Sarah overheard the task, and then talked me into doing it.  I caved in to the pressure and told the Israeli guy that I would act on his dare.  After he pointed to his friend, I strolled over to where the buddy was standing.  I tapped his shoulder and briefly said hello.  He looked a bit surprised and then said hello back.  I told him that his friend wanted me to give him something.  With that, I quickly kissed him on the cheek and rushed away.  I yelled to Sarah to hurry up because she was still standing in disbelief of what had just happened.  Once Sarah caught up to me, we disappeared into the masses of people walking around.  

It was getting late.  I thought it would be best for us to head back to Yokosuka.  I had to work the next morning, and I wanted to have enough sleep.  After about ten minutes on the train, Sarah wanted to get off and use the restroom.  I was a little irritated, but I followed her wishes anyway.

I sat outside, watching the trains pass by, as I waited for Sarah to come out of the restroom.  After ten minutes passed, I went to go check on her.  When I opened the door, I saw Sarah talking with a Japanese girl.  I asked Sarah if she was ok.  Sarah told me that she wanted to hang out the girl and stay out longer.  My feelings were hurt but I understood that she wanted to stay behind. Sarah didn’t have to work the next morning like I did. 

I hopped on the first train that stopped and headed back to Yokosuka, so I thought.  I wasn’t familiar with any of the names of towns that we passed.  I was not sure if I was going the right way.  

After an hour, the train stopped at its last destination.  I was very disoriented with where I was.  I walked up to a train employee and asked him where I was.  He didn’t understand what I was saying.  Luckily, a group of Japanese teens that were nearby understood what I was saying.  All of a sudden, one of the guys in the group volunteered to translate for me.  I asked the guy where I was.  The guy spoke Japanese to the train employee, then the train employee pointed to a spot on the map.  Kofu.  Kofu?  Where is Kofu?  I asked where Yokosuka was.  More Japanese was spoken between my translator and the train employee.  The train employee placed another finger on Yokosuka.  Yokosuka looked really far away from Kofu.  I also found out that Yokosuka is five hours away from Kofu.  I asked when the next train will come.  The guy explained to me that the train closed at midnight, and will not run again until 5 a. m.  I didn’t know what I would do in the mean time.  My translator offered me to go with them to climb Mount Fuji, which was very close by.  Although I was very tempted to go with them, I decided that it wouldn’t be the best idea.  I had a train to catch.

At that point, I sat down and started to panic.  As I was crying, I thought of how I was gong to get back to Yokosuka.  I also thought what I would tell my superiors, if I ever saw them again.  Then, I thought of what I would do for five hours while waiting for the first train.  

        A Japanese girl, Kayo, witnessed my confusion.  Kayo was at the train station to pick up her little sister.  She asked me if I would like to stay with her.  Oh my god, she speaks English.  I was a little wary at first, but I knew it would probably be safer than sticking around in a foreign train station.

When I got to Kayo’s house, I was asked to place my shoes at the door.  I walked inside and immediately noticed the Tami mats on the floor.  Everything in the living room looked simple.  There were cushions on the floor for seating, and a miniature table placed in the middle.  It was unlike anything I had ever seen.

Once I reached Kayo’s room, I was also blown away with how her room was decorated.  Kayo's room looked like a typical bedroom in America, only with a futon on the floor.  

        Kayo and I got to know each other better.  I explained where I was from in the United States, and what I did in the U.S. Navy.  Kayo spoke about her steady boyfriend and showed me some personal pictures of her and her family.  Kayo played a few Japanese pop songs that were popular at the time.  Although I could not understand the words in the songs, I thought the style and rhythms were pretty catchy.

Kayo’s mom brought us some Japanese bean cake and hot green tea.  I had never tried such a snack before, but the bean cake was very tasty.  

        After we ate, Kayo showed me where the bathroom was so I could take a shower.  I was looking for a bathtub.  There was a small bathtub, but it was covered up with plastic.  Then, I saw a faucet right above the tiled floor.  There was a shower attachment connected to the faucet.  I noticed a small drain in the middle of the bathroom.  I asked Kayo if that’s where I took a shower.  She laughed and then nodded.  I was worried about the water messing up the bathroom, but I guess that’s another difference between Japan and USA.   Kayo also gave me some undergarments and pajamas to change into.  Once I finished with the shower, Kayo told me that I could sleep on her bed.  I was very impressed with her hospitality.

Kayo woke me up around 3 a. m. to take me back to the train station.  I saw that my clothes were folded very neatly.  Kayo had washed and dried the clothes that I had worn the day before while I was asleep.  

Once we reached the train station, Kayo gave me a handwritten map with directions showing me how to get back to Yokosuka.  She also helped me get my train tickets from the ticket machine.  I gave Kayo a big hug and thanked her for taking me into her home.  I was a little saddened that I might not ever see her again.

I followed Kayo’s directions and reached Yokosuka around 8 a. m.  I was only thirty minutes late to work.  When I told my superiors what had happened, they didn’t believe me because the story was so bizarre.  Luckily, I didn’t get in trouble.  

Sailor Sails

Sailor sails

From Place to Place.

Never gets too close

Because soon, he’ll have to leave again.

Sailor searches,

For a place to dock.

Once he gets near,

The dock pushes him away.

Sailor sails

From Place to Place

Never gets too close

Because soon, he’ll have to leave again.

Sailor searches, 

For a place to dock.

Once he gets near,

The dock pushes him away.

A Girl For Every Season

Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall

Who’s the cruelest of them all?

Winter is so frosty; 

she turns all things to ice.

Sketchy Spring doesn’t know 

whether to be mean or nice.

Sizzling Summer is so hot, 

she’ll tease you until you’re charred.

Until Fall steals you away, 

only to break your heart.

Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall

Who’s the cruelest of them all?