Big Butts! And Romantic Musings

This was possibly the funniest thing I have EVER seen in nearly 8 years of Active Service, just under 4 years of Reserve Service, and about, 15 years as a dependant.

I have mentioned Karaoke Night in the DFAC before. Normally folks who I wouldn't listen to if I were drunk take advantage of it. But last night B Company, 501st Support Battalion's First Sergeant went up on stage and did a quite creditable rendition of "All Shook Up" complete with hand movements, hip swinging, and the rest. I was highly amused.

Not as amused as what happened next. Seems this First Shirt managed to get his company commander into the spirt of things, and he presented Sir Mix-a-Lot's "I Like Big Butts." Now this was amusing. What caused me to choke on my food was the fact that the First Sergeant was dancing to the music--shakin' his booty and all. Then the Battalion Commander and someone else (I think a Warrant Officer, but I couldn't tell) jumped up on stage and started dancing too. I have never seen a Lieutenant Colonel "freak" with a Captain before. I fell out of my chair twice and choked on my food. I'm still laughing about it.

Someone found the -7Bs, for which I am highly grateful. I hope lessons have been learned on going on leave with sensitive items in the wall locker.

I'd have blogged about this last night, but the server was down for maintinance. It's up now, obviously!

Also, my wife rocks. I called her up yesterday late and caught her at her Mother's house making curtains. She started to explain in detail what she was doing, then caught herself and said, "You probably don't want to hear all those details."

And I replied, "If you want to talk about them, I'm sure I'll be enthralled."

So she starts laughing at me.

I think that's one of the good things about our relationship. We both have our obsessions, but we can both laugh at them and tolerate the other one's. My honey will let me go on and on when I get going on a rant, even if it is one she's heard before (and by now, she's heard most of them).

And the funny thing is, I usually do manage to follow her when she talks about something she enjoys. It's like. . . burning magnesium. It not only burns, but it throws out sparks everywhere. I find myself actually caring about whatever it is (Elizabeathan and early Baroque costuming was a recent discussion at 0200 her time) for two reasons. First, my Beloved is a magnificent communicator. I rarely have to ask for explanations and she covers the background information I need. I don't do that. It's a bad habit. Second, whatever she loves, she loves whole-heartedly. There's a passion to her that is simply amazing (and even more so when it is directed my way, woo-hoo!). She can communicate that passion and catch others on fire. If I believed in psychic powers I'd suspect she was a projecting empath--or maybe that's just the effect she has on me.

Because she is so whole-hearted, it sometimes doesn't take much to make her really happy, and because what makes her happy tends to make me happy, I find I'm digging around for all sorts of cheesy stuff to do or say or whatever. Someone once gave me a book, I think it was called 101 (or possibly 1001) way for a guy to be romantic or something to that effect. The book is in my household goods, but the idea is simple. Women interpret small actions to mean much more than they do to guys. Every married guy knows that, and we get the bad end of that when the women in our lives burst into tears or get angry over the most trivial of things. As a side note, while my Beloved does this once in a while, she will at least a)explain what is wrong, b) listen to an explanation as to why I didn't mean it that way, and c) accept an apology. This is better than the average XX-chromosome carrier. But the good end of this is that little things that a guy wouldn't think twice about make her feel so appreciated/loved/whatever. So I try to do these things every now and then.

Like the coffee. I am more or less a morning person. My Beloved is NOT. If she had her way, the day would start at noon. Coffee is good for that, though, and I try to get up before her and make coffee so there is usually some when she wakes up. It's nothing to me, since I'd be making the coffee anyway because caffine is a drug and I have a habit. But it is worth so many points it isn't funny.

Also, another reason my wife rocks is that she sent me coffee. I have a coffee pot set up in the Arms Room Workshop now, and I come in early to dink around on the internet and make coffee. While at Ft. Hood and spending much of the weekends in Austin, I got used to good coffee. Don't get me wrong, as long as it is hot and black I'm more or less happy. But I enjoy the good stuff. And she sent me Seattle's Best. I'm not a serious coffee snob, but that beats DFAC coffee any day. And I can brew it as strong as I want it.

Next I need a hotplate, a briki, and some Greek coffee.

I'll be rambling on at somewhat greater length nowdays, I suppose. Since blogger doesn't do the "Friends Page" like LJ, I figure anyone who navigates my way really wants to read me.