Monopoly reference, you say, read on:

The Water: 

Running water is a true commodity here. There is no indoor plumbing, but we do have “outhouses” - one for showers (on bases only) and another for the latrine (often just a port-a-potty).  You don’t dare drink water from any of the sinks, unless you really want to loose a lot of weight fast (the hard way).  My good friend (JU), Dr. Jeff Bomber, once gave me a shot of something in the arse, after I drank some river water on a remote island in Alaska, so I get the whole bacteria thing. 

Anyway, we have these pallets (everywhere) stacked with cases of bottled water (alas, I don’t see much recycling going on).  You even brush your teeth with this water.  And there is no ice.  The water sits outside for days at a time, so it gets very warm (understatement).  Try running warm water at home from the tap and see if you can get used to drinking that - all the time - it’s a feat!   

The BO:

Yes, body odor.  If you’re outside in PT (physical training) gear (i.e., gym clothes), you never really sweat.  It’s too hot; your body liquid just evaporates.  But you still stink.  In fact, you stink worse, becaue there’s no water to dissipate your “effluvia”.  With a uniform on, your under garments get drenched, then they dry, and this cycle continues throughout the day (TMI?).

I could go on about this, but I think you get the idea.  BTW, there are a few women out here (more power to ‘em).  They’re very smart about this whole aroma thing - they all manage to have some sort of perfume product on.  Most of the guys just reek.  But there is a war on, so…

The sun?  Yeah, did I mention it was 138 degrees yesterday?  Stick your head in the oven, and then imagine walking around like that all day.  Eventually, you acclimate, and the soar throat goes away.  But not the ”sand boogers”!

MRE’s.  They’re meals all right.  And they’re definitely ready to eat.  But you never quite get used to eating them.  No matter how hungry you are.  Even the ones that have the little automatic heaters in them (rare sightings, indeed, and for some “green” soldiers, still just a wild rumor…..”a heard there was a guy in 3rd platoon who once got a meal with a heater in it…..”). 

Yep, MRE’s .  They come in a pouch about the size of a large, 300 page paperback - the whole meal.  It’s kind of a “just add water” sort of thing, except that you pour the water down your throat and then mix.  There’s even little salt & pepper packets (very necessary), and a napkin, plastic spoon.  And even a coffee pack (with sugar & cream) - You’re on your own for the hot water, but it was 138 degrees here yesterday, so….. you adapt, overcome, improvise, conquer!

Opening an MRE pouch , though, is like opening a Cracker Jack box when you were a kid (OK, my generation - how’s that for a “Who” reference?), and searching for the prize (”Man, I got a pop tart!”).  Some meals are more desirable than others.  Jambalaya is a favorite (though I know of no one who has sighted the fabled “little shrimp pieces” listed on the label).  Penne pasta, not so (ever had cold spaghetti, supposedly a renowned hangover remedy among alcoholics?  Didn’t think so.).

The entree items are all high in starch and contained in boxes inside the plastic pouch.  Besides some type of mystery meat, you usually get a potato product and some type of vegetable that’s the consistency of what you fed your kids at age 2.  But it’s irrelevent, because you can never see what you’re eating.  It’s either dark out (4:00am-ish or 6:00pm-ish) or you have the blinding sun to contend with.

The boxes are of varying sizes, the largest of which is about the size of an 8 1/2″ X 5″ pad of paper.  And the perforated backing of this box is actually a post card, though I’ve yet to see one get used (You think I’m kidding?  Send me your address and see what comes back!). 

There’s even a dessert item with the MRE - some type of crushed cookie or brownie.  I’ve noticed that there’s this whole conspiracy on not wanting to send people home looking skinnier than when they left.  The MRE’s won’t get the job done but, then again, we don’t just sit around eating Meals, Ready to Eat.  Often, we’re on a base (care to guess how many we have in Iraq?) and the DFAC (Dinning Facility) food is pretty damn good.  Hope that doesn’t spoil anyone’s image of the suffering and sacrifice. 

Perhaps these (MRE’s and the postcards) were a big item during the Korean War, who knows?  These things have probably been around since then, give or take 10 years.  They sort of have that Space Age/NASA look to them.  I don’t know, someone Google that for me, eh?  Best comment gets a free postcard, straight from the desert!

Now, if you’re one of my kids reading this (except Sarah), stop right there.  This one is PG-15, or something like that.  For any of you who DON’T know what the title refers to, you may want to skip this one, although it could be labeled “somewhat informative” on the “useless information” scale.  Read on at your own peril…..

Freeballin’, aka: Free Balling (for tight-ass pseudo-urbanites who haven’t tried it yet), Melvin (the only Melvin I know is in jail?), Commando (or “Going Commando”), Wranglers (western term), Bean Bag (or Bags, both are, ah, more or less appropriate), Package, Moose Knuckles (my personal favorite), or (essentially) No Underwear. 

This is a common term among military guys and has been for quite some time, although the origins are a bit sketchy.  I have it from a fairly reliable source that the genesis of this - actually, the phrase ”going commando” - comes from the U.S. Navy SEALS.  Feel free to dispute.  The term (and practice) has been in wide use in urban circles for 10 years or so now, mostly among the skate-punk crowd.  And, I’ve come to discover recently that this isn’t just a guy thing.

That’s all I really have to say about that; perhaps it’ll generate a response or two.  I bring it up, though, because in these parts, it’s a fairly common phenomenon, for purely hygenic reasons.  Nobody likes “tighty-whities” out here (I never liked the damn things), and boxers can be a bit restrictive as well. 

Last word:  There’s a band with this name and some sort of Weird Al-type song that parodies Tom Petty’s ”Free Fallin”.  Just thought you should know!