Bells & Whistles
Yesterday I was privy to and party of a unique event: a Navy retirement ceremony for my former branch chief, retiring after 20 years of service. An hour-long mixture of certificates, gifts (make sure that wooden plaque made in Russia doesn't have any bugs in it), and speeches, culminating with the retiree being "piped ashore" by walking down a red carpet flanked by these large bullet-looking things meant to represent the gang plank, saluting three pairs of Army, Air Force, and Navy brethren on either side. "Commander, U.S. Navy, coming ashore, never to sail again." Clang Clang Clang went the bosun's bell. A lone piper whistling him away. Wife shedding tears. Pretty cool moment.
I had offered my help to the guy the next cube over setting it all up, but he did almost all the groundwork himself; he did ask me to be an escort for the family members arriving, so an Army Major and I met them up front, gave them visitor badges, and pretty much just followed them around, showing them the bathrooms, important stuff. We had a separate "holding room" for them before the show, so I sat and did my best to entertain the wife, kids, parents, in-laws, and sister. When the shindig was over, his sister started fussing with the food on the reception table, unpeeling the plastic from the cheese & crackers, and starting to make the punch.
"No, no," I said. "You go be a guest. I'll make the punch."
"Are you sure?"
"Yep. I've got it. Follow-up question, though: how do you make punch?"
Two 2-liter bottles of sprite and a half-tub of rainbow sherbert ice cream later, we had what looked less like punch and more like fifth place in a sixth grade science fair, somewhere between a papier mache volcano and a cotton candy machine. But everyone said it was good, so phewph.
I then saw the commander's wife leave the back of the room, so I quickly ran after her, to legitimize the red "Escort Required" badge she was sporting.
"You don't have to take me everywhere, you know."
"I actually do. It's a federal law."
The next day, the commander said that his family thought the world of me, so that was nice to hear.
I have since been rewarded by being put in charge of someone else's retirement ceremony August 10th.
I'll make the punch.
I had offered my help to the guy the next cube over setting it all up, but he did almost all the groundwork himself; he did ask me to be an escort for the family members arriving, so an Army Major and I met them up front, gave them visitor badges, and pretty much just followed them around, showing them the bathrooms, important stuff. We had a separate "holding room" for them before the show, so I sat and did my best to entertain the wife, kids, parents, in-laws, and sister. When the shindig was over, his sister started fussing with the food on the reception table, unpeeling the plastic from the cheese & crackers, and starting to make the punch.
"No, no," I said. "You go be a guest. I'll make the punch."
"Are you sure?"
"Yep. I've got it. Follow-up question, though: how do you make punch?"
Two 2-liter bottles of sprite and a half-tub of rainbow sherbert ice cream later, we had what looked less like punch and more like fifth place in a sixth grade science fair, somewhere between a papier mache volcano and a cotton candy machine. But everyone said it was good, so phewph.
I then saw the commander's wife leave the back of the room, so I quickly ran after her, to legitimize the red "Escort Required" badge she was sporting.
"You don't have to take me everywhere, you know."
"I actually do. It's a federal law."
The next day, the commander said that his family thought the world of me, so that was nice to hear.
I have since been rewarded by being put in charge of someone else's retirement ceremony August 10th.
I'll make the punch.
posted by Dan at 9:16 PM
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