If you have read some of my most recent posts, you know that I have been writing about my experiences after leaving the Logistics Executive Development Course at Fort Lee, Virginia. Well, I graduated from the Logistics Executive Development Course in due course, and my family and I headed for Fort Huachuca, Arizona. Thus, I am left the Logistics Executive Development Course and Fort Lee, Virginia, behind. If you want to know more about those subjects, you will just have to go back and revisit the posts on those subjects. If you have been reading my most recent posts about my adventures after moving to Arizona, you found out what happened when I initially signed in at Fort Huachuca, Arizona. I subsequently revealed to you that I had been assigned to the Joint Interoperability Test Center (JITC) at Fort Huachuca. JITC is a subordinate command of the Defense Information Systems Agency. You may have read about an interesting situation with a temporary guard. In that same post, I also talked about securing housing for my family. That secured post housing and how spiders rained from the ceilings. Oh yeah. That was quite entertaining. Not. I then switched gears to talk about some of my volunteer work on Fort Huachuca. Oh yeah. That was quite fun and interesting too. I was volunteered by my unit to be a tax officer to help soldiers and their families prepare their taxes. Yay. I discussed how I helped my Master Gunnery Sergeant and his dependapotamus spouse prepare their personal income taxes. I talked about where my quarters were located on Fort Huachuca and how I was introduced to the local chapter of the Hash House Harriers. I talked about an incident that happened soon after I assumed my tour of duty at the Joint Interoperability Test Center (JITC) at Fort Huachuca. This particular incident occurred one Monday morning soon after I arrived at work. For more on that particular incident and my first NCOIC, Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr, please visit that post. In still another of my most recent posts, I wrote about my efforts to secure a farewell award for my NCOIC, Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr. I wrote in that post that there would be two farewell posts about Master Gunnery Sergeant Orr. Well, since the first post was about his farewell award, obviously, my most recent post had to be about his actual farewell and his plans after life in the military. In a recent post, I talked about a strange spectacle that I beheld as I arrived for work one morning. However, in my most recent posts, I shifted gears and talked about a couple natural phenomena that occur at Fort Huachuca during the summer months. I talked about the wind in one and I talked about the phenomenon for which the Huachuca Mountains and Fort Huachuca are named in the other. Previously, I mentioned that the summer thunderstorms that gave the Huachuca Mountains their name are loosely referred to as monsoons. That leads us to my most recent post, which talked about said summer weather phenomenon and a somewhat dubious hash house Harriers run. That presents me with a fitting introduction to the post for today. The Huachuca Hash House Harriers billed themselves as a family-oriented Hash House Harriers chapter. Since they billed themselves as a family-oriented Hash House Harriers chapter, the Huachuca Hash House Harriers actively promoted the attendance of families to include wives, children, and pets at all Hash runs and bashes. The Hash always had age-appropriate beverages for the children and water for those who chose not to drink those or alcoholic beverages during the down-downs. Light snacks and sweets were always provided for those who wish to partake. And believe me, some wish to partake a helluva lot more than others. What was significant about this Hash run this particular week was that this was the week my son Wright Junior was to receive his Hash name. We managed to reach the end of the run and get to the down-down ceremony well before the midafternoon thunder and lightning show started. Cuz as you know, it is always fun to get caught out in the rain and the lightning without any type of protection. Most soldiers are used to it. But civilians not so much. Military dependents are kind of like civilians, but not really. Their military husbands naturally just expect them to be just as used to getting caught out in the rain with their pants down as it were (you know, without any type of protection). But, of course, that just ain’t the way it is. Military dependents can be just as namby-pamby as bona fide civilians. And you never know if one of them is going to melt in the damn rain. So God forbid that you should let them get caught out in the rain without any type of protection. Oh hell no. You’d never hear the end of it. You can bet your biffy that you’d be sleeping in the doghouse with the dog. What’s that? You don’t have a dog?!? Oops. I guess you’ll probably wind up sleeping out under the stars (or the clouds, if it happens to be a rainy night). Tough luck. But I digress. I mentioned earlier that this week was the week that my son was to receive his Hash name. Of course, the Hash Master deferred to me for some suggested names. That was a mistake. I pulled out my notebook. I asked, “Oh, hi and venerated one, how much time do I have?” The Hash Master replied, “Please be brief and to the point Shitting Bull.” I started rattling off names: first, there is Master of Disaster and I told them why and how my son earned that nickname. Second, there is Trouble with a capital-T. Third, there is Hazardous Material, please stand back. However, the other Hash members chose none of those names. They deliberated for a brief period of time and came up with their own suggestion for a name. They chose the name “Little Turd.” Now here is the thing about Hash names and Hash naming conventions within families. The Hash likes to have a common theme for all of the names of the Hash members within a family. Do you see where I’m going with this? Of course, the Hash is a democracy. That means every member of the Hash that attends that particular function gets a vote on the name except the person being named. Cuz that’s how a democracy works. So of course it was almost unanimous that the name “Little Turd” was chosen. I think there were only two no votes, mine and my daughter’s. But, of course, our votes didn’t matter. The saving grace was that my son did get to abbreviate his name to “LT.” I guess that was supposed to make it easier for his sensitive little ears to hear. Like that little monster had sensitive ears. I don’t even think he knew the meaning of the word sensitive. But you know how it is. You can’t just blatantly bruise the ego of a little child. I guess that’s why the Hash had also named my daughter the “Porcelain Princess.” Have you guessed the common theme among the names yet? Here’s another thing about the Hash and Hash names. They never let you have the name you want. Oh hell no. That would be sacrilege. They award you the name you don’t want. Cuz that’s the way it is. Another interesting name that came up for my son and another that I thought would stick was Cookie Monster. The reason I thought that it was such a perfect name was that at every down-down, my son would stuff his pockets full of cookies and then grab two more handfuls of cookies from the snacks. But nope. No bites on that name. Oh well. My son received his name and the Hash ended without any significant exercises in futility.
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