The Life of Kepple

The Evil Serpent of Death

2008-04-24T10:04:00.000-07:00

Once again it has been awhile since my last post, but this time a lot has happened: working in the galley, cleaning toilets, mopping floors, working in the galley, picking up pine cones, raking leaves, working in the galley, making beds, pulling up carpet, working in the galley, moving furniture, scraping bird shit off the quay, working in the galley, running, doing push-ups, working in the galley, unloading stores, standing at attention, working in the galley, working in the galley, and working in the galley. There is a lot more to my story of Piney Point than all of this, and if you are a friend of mine you can ask, but the long and the short of it is that I am now out and talking to a company down in Tampa with prospects to working aboard tugboats. But, that is NOT what I am writing about today.

Today, I am writing about the "Evil Serpent of Death"!!!

The chills of the early morning fog had lifted as the day warmed, but there was an ominous spirit that lurked in the air as I gazed out from our porch overlooking the creepily still lake. It was as if nature itself was tense and every living organism in our surrounding environment had their gaze focused on me. I squinted, suspicious, and I scanned the view slowly from left to right ending at our tomato garden on the side of the back yard, which I noticed was in need of watering. Despite the sizzle on the grill which I was tending, I knew my asparagus and corn still needed to cook for a few more minutes. I decided to head downstairs through the house to turn on the garden hose, and as I rounded the basement stairs to get to the door, there was a sudden hiss and a strike that sent me jumping back 10 feet!!!

I didn't even know what had happened, but I soon realized that my lightning reflexes had just saved me from nearly certain death. I focused my eyes into the deep dark diamond slits of the slithering beast, revealing a creature without fear and without a soul. This was no ordinary snake; this was a creature glad to serve the whims of the devil, poised to deliver the venomous wrath of hatred . . . an evil serpent of death!!!

There had been some commotion from the encounter and Brenda, the woman of the house, had run downstairs to see what the stir was about; apparently she thought she heard a little girl scream - but there was obviously no little girl around . . . thank god, or else the evil serpent of death may have taken a victim into the fold that day. By this time, I had perched myself atop a vantage point which gave me a clear perspective of what needed to be done.

Like Xerxes commanding the Persian fleet at the Battle of Salamis, I instructed Brenda to pick up the broom to her side. She was afraid, and I knew I had to command with authority and courage to counteract the fear. The door had been opened, and it was time for the evil presence to leave our good home. At the first swap, the snake defended its territory. Again, swap! The snake slithered into a corner behind a bag. Responding dutifully to command, Brenda moved the bag from the corner to reveal the dark coil. Taking position from behind, Brenda swept the fiendish beast against the angled door which left it half inside and half out, fighting at the thistles of the broom to re-invade and carry out its master plan. Knowing what was at stake, I ordered one last sweep of the broom. Then came a slam! The door was shut. Together, we had rid our home of the evil.

An epic battle that seemed to last eons transpired in a matter of moments. I ordered Brenda to do a quick look around before I dismounted from the commander's post. Then, carefully, I came down and proceeded, unaffected, to adjourn to the grill where my asparagus and corn had just reached a delectable perfection. The reward for doing God's will was oh so sweet!!!

On the Eve of the Beginning

2008-03-02T08:09:00.000-08:00

As I am not the most consistent blogger, I will try to sum up the past month with the following: I passed my physical and, despite 28 years of abusing my body with some of the shittiest food available for human and/or bottom-feeder consumption, I am in remarkably good health - though the doctor ordered me to lose 20 lbs.; I have read the entire James Bond collection of books; . . . yeah, that's about all of it. So, I have just been waiting around until this day came, Monday, March 3rd, 2008 - tomorrow - when I enter the Merchant Marine program at Piney Point, Maryland.

I flew up to Washington DC from Atlanta, GA on Friday and my buddy Matt (who I am sure all of you know from the much-acclaimed blog-masterpiece www.mattkaar.com) picked me up and we began a walking tour of DC. We met up with our good friend Sam, now a disgruntled polling analyst whose office for the past many years has been in sight of and just a stone's throw from the White House. Having spent just a day in the capital city, I realize that this disgruntled - even shall we say "soon-to-be-going-postal" - aspect of character is a necessary adaptation in order to survive in the modern-day political climate. I am not at all surprised that Sam has extensively planned for the end of the world as we know it, complete with a "get-the-fuck-out-of-town" satchel and a brand new rambo knife . . . which is big and scary. Needless to say, we have all had a great time catching up.

Today, we are making the final approach towards Piney Point in an old-school road-trip fashion. I have booked a room for the night in what I later found out to be one of the sleaziest rat-traps in the nation (woohoo!!!), and tomorrow I will take a taxi to my final destination. In these last moments of camaraderie with my friends, I have been bombarded with a number of questions which I have found to be of repeated interest to my growing number of fans who are following my great adventure. I felt this would be a good time to address those now:

Do you know what you'll be doing? No.

Will you have any free time? I don't know.

How old are the people typically attending this program? I don't know.

Will you be able to use your cell phone? I don't know.

Will you be fighting in Iraq? No, it's not that kind of work, and anyways I'm a coward.

Since you're supposed to be in it, will you make it to Matt's wedding? I don't know.

Are you concerned at all that maybe you don't know enough about what you're getting into? No.

So, that basically wraps up where I am right now. It's an adventure! I will write more diligently moving forward (assuming of course that I have internet ability at school, which of course, I do not know).

It Turns Out I Am Not A Complete Idiot

2008-01-23T16:17:00.000-08:00

As you (those 3-4 of you who have thus far been reading my short history of a blog) can probably tell from the title, I passed my entrance exams. Last Tuesday, I drove 5 hours down to Mobile, Alabama to take an exam that lasted 1 hour, then drove 5 hours back. As expected, the SHLSS Admissions Office was very prompt in scoring and moving on to the next step; I passed and a package of new directions arrived on Friday of the same week.

The exams themselves were pretty much what I expected. There were roughly 30 math questions dealing with addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division using whole numbers, fractions, and decimals. The reading portion was straightforward comprehension and complete-the-sentence type of questions. There were some odd passages, though, some reminiscent of my college days in philosophy of science classes and others reminiscent of reading the thick works of Faulkner. There were even some passages concerning Voltaire, which leads me to wonder how all of this can relate back to a measure of competency in my newly-chosen profession. But hey, whatever; I passed so I am not concerned (although I would be curious to know my scores).

It is official that I am scheduled now for classes to start March 3rd - woohoo!!! The SHLSS was also very kind to send me the 3rd round of the application process; this time, I guess we are moving along to the nitty-gritty details of my childhood because the application is 28 pages long! So be it. I also need to see a physician and take a few drug tests (which gives me a great excuse to go see some friends in Jacksonville for a few days), but aside from all this, the course is now set. I can't wait!!!

Going to Mobile for Exams

2008-01-13T16:04:00.000-08:00

A lot has gone on with my progress towards the Merchant Marines since I wrote last. First and foremost, the application is complete. I remember applying for colleges about 10 years ago, and that process was much simpler. For the Merchant Marines, one must provide the following (for anyone in the future who might be interested):

1. Complete application mailed from the Paul Hall Institute
2. Essay on why one wants to be in the Merchant Marines
3. Statement explaining any previous drug use (if applicable)
4. Dental records, including dentist-written authorization letter (this step took me the longest)
5. Original Birth Certificate
6. Original Social Security Card
7. Original Passport
8. Driving Records from the DMV
9. Three Original Letters of Reference from non-familial associates

The good news is that once one sends the complete application and list of documents required, the SHLSS - the Seafarers Harry Lundeberg School of Seamanship - is very quick to process and respond. There were a few kinks in the application that I sent, but a quick call to the SHLSS put me in touch with Lori, a very helpful woman who guided me through the issues easily. I am now moving on towards the final steps.

On Tuesday morning, I am driving down to Mobile, Alabama to take exams for my math and reading skills. Now, I have never been brilliant in these subjects, however something tells me that these tests will not be a major obstacle towards my ultimate goal; I am jokingly calling these tests the "Are you a complete idiot?" tests.

Following the passing of these exams, only 3 steps remain in the following order: scheduling a start date (which through discussion with Lori I am aiming towards a March 3rd availability), passing a physical exam from an SIU-approved physician, and a subsequent drug test.

So, assuming no kinks in the plan, I should be on my way in just over 6 weeks. I feel like a kid anxiously awaiting summer camp. Who knows how it will actually be, though; I could end up scrubbing shit off the poop deck (whatever that is). And you know what? . . . I do not care; it will not spoil my enthusiasm.

My Teeth Hurt

2007-12-07T19:43:00.000-08:00

As a requirement of the Merchant Marine program to which I am aspiring, I must have all dental work 100% before admission. I guess this was as good as any time for me to get much-needed dental work done, seeing as how it has only been . . . oh . . . maybe 12+ years since I had any work done last. 12+ YEARS!!! I am appalled at that. It is disgusting! But, I digress. So, I thought the routine could be done in no more than 2 visits. I knew I had some cavities. I knew my teeth would need to be cleaned. Nothing hurt. I still brushed twice a day. They look white. What else is there to do but in 2 sessions anyways?

Well, a lot has changed in dentistry since the turn of the century (who'd have thought it?!). The first visit, as it turns out, is merely an exploratory. The dentist started no more to peer into my mouth than he began to start rattling off to his assistant a list of numbers, possible conditions, potential options, and before I knew it, he was done with a complete itinerary of work scheduling up to 9 visits. He was very kind to include some elective options in there as well. The session lasted, literally, 9 minutes. He shook my hand and left the room.

The next 2 visits were cleanings. This used to take 1 visit, and it was the first visit, but whatever. My teeth probably deserved it. The amount of shit that they air blasted off has definitely convinced me that regular cleanings are worth the money. My teeth were half the size after they were done, and they had an entirely different contour to them than I was used to.

The next visit moved into the real nitty-gritty work. Cavities, the bread and butter of a dental profession. I had 3 on my regular teeth, and 2 on the wisdom teeth which I have had for many years and which have never bothered me. The dentist discussed the options, and basically said that the wisdom teeth should be pulled since they are prone to problems. And, of the 3 cavities that needed filling on the regular teeth, 1 was a potential rout canal if they drilled too deep. I asked for him not to drill too deep. He must have listened because I left with 3 normal cavities filled, and a scheduled appointment for the following week for the extraction of the wisdom teeth.

I slept through the next week's appointment. Oops!

But, inevitably, we come to this week when the dirty deed was done. 4 teeth pulled at once. I closed my eyes, listened to my headphones, and the work was done it half the time I expected. Then came the post-op instructions: don't spit, don't smoke, don't drink, only soft foods for awhile . . . Only soft foods? Yeah, yogurt, applesauce, cottage cheese! I only advanced to eating EasyMac today, and I still have to swallow that whole! I actually went down the baby foods aisle to see about switching up my regimen, but not being an infant and knowing better, I suspect that Turkey, Dressing, Gravy, & Mixed Vegetables blended smoothly into a creamy paste doesn't quite live up to the real thing.

But who cares? A month later, $2,000 down the drain (oh yeah, no insurance, baby), significant pain, and 1 more post-op visit to go . . . but I am 1 step closer to the goal. All is good!

A New Coarse Towards the Same Dream

2007-12-04T15:31:00.000-08:00

This is my first post, so naturally it will be long . . .

There have been a few times in my life when I have examined the direction in which I was heading, found it to be lacking, and, fortunately, I had the strength to change. Most recently was this past August when I decided to re-align my work with the future of my dreams. As with all decisions of any magnitude in life, this one came with its own mix of emotions which made the best choice a convoluted one at best, but in the end I had to strive for my dreams at any and all cost.

For roughly the past 3 years, I have been working in the staffing industry, first with accountants, paralegals, office workers and the like, then with technologists of various sorts. The decision to work in this industry shocked those who knew me because it was hell and gone from anything to deal with the ocean (previously, for 5 years, I had worked as a scuba instructor during the time of my education at the University of Georgia). I loved the ocean, and everyone knew it, so what the hell had propelled me to make this decision?

I felt it was taking a step backwards to get 2 steps forward - i.e. I could earn the money quickly to achieve a dream. It is no secret that unless you own a business in scuba diving, you are not making any money. When my fledgling plans to do so fell through, I turned to an easy-out and decided to go to work for a more profitable industry (for a worker-bee). I was quickly offered a job working in the staffing industry as a recruiter, and when you are good at what you do, recruiting can be quite lucrative.

I worked my way along quickly, first changing jobs within recruiting to a more profitable staffing niche - Information Technology. Then, I changed roles within that company to sales (which is always the most profitable part of any business). Then, in September of 2006, upon a trip for work to our outsourcing center in Ukraine, I was offered a managerial position working overseas in the outsourcing center in Kharkov, Ukraine. For someone who loves to travel, and for someone who is looking to save significant amounts of money, working abroad on an American salary seemed a marriage made in heaven.

Needless to say, I took the job. I moved to Kharkov, Ukraine in November of 2006. It was great! My boss was cool! During the time, I got to meet many wonderful people. I traveled to many places including Yalta (Crimea of Ukraine), Prague (Czech Republic), Kemer (Turkey), Lviv (Ukraine), and Dniprepetrovsk (Ukraine). But, as time went on, I felt a growing emptiness inside. My conscience, which has always gotten the better of me, began to pull at heartstrings that seemed to say with every dollar I earned, "kiss your dreams goodbye". It all came together on that trip to Turkey, when I spent countless hours out on a raft in the Mediterranean, remembering the dream of which I had been seeking all along.

But, things were complicated, becoming increasingly more so with each day. The money was good with the job and it was only going to get better with my income tied to the profitability of the company. My responsibilities were increasing with respect to long-term commitments made by the company in me. But most importantly, I had met a wonderful young girl there who made any downsides the life had to offer manageable. She is truly a beautiful woman, but the difference in our lives were bound to surface as she wanted family, stability, and a comfort close to home. She deserves them all, but my dreams were for something rather the opposite. With mixed emotions, and against all "strings-attached" temptations of money and companionship, I felt it was time to make a move. In August of 2007, I put in 2-months notice that I would be leaving in October.

So, what is this dream of mine? What is so important that I give up a set life that would make most complete and happy? Simply put, the ocean. More specifically, the prospect of spending years sailing across the waters on a small but sturdy vessel in search of adventure, discovery, self-sufficiency, and self-reliance. Since I first verbalized the dream back in 1998 to 2 of my best friends, Donnie and Saff, my coarse has been firmly set in the desire to own a sailboat and sail off into the sunset with complete control of where I was going. At that time, however, I thought it would take a vast amount of money in savings and the ability to leave the working world for a long time. Over the years, though, I have seen the image of the dream change to what I see now as more realistic and necessary.

As I see it now, what I want is a mixed life between working in an ocean-related field where I can continue to acquire knowledge about the sea and life on it, and leisure-time spent on a sailboat with the full control over direction and speed of life. The 8 to 5 routine has never been one that settled well with me; I'd prefer to work while I am in working mode, and rest while I am in resting mode. And for me, I have difficulty switching between these two modes on a daily basis; I either take work home with me in one mode (which is what has happened so far), or I am bound to start sleeping on the job when I require the other (which has not happened yet, luckily). So, for what I think will be a long-lasting tack in a new direction, I am changing careers (and life) once again.

I have decided to join the Merchant Marines. This is a venture I have been thinking about for some time, but now I have finally jumped into it full-steam. With the application nearly completed and scheduling the next logical step, I hope to be fully immersed into the life within the next 6 months. For the time at the beginning, I plan to work 5 months and take 2 months off, keeping that routine until such time as I feel it should change. Fortunately, with the structure of this industry, I can have significant control over the flexibility of my schedule, and I can still be financially responsible with regards to debts, investments, and retirement. It seems to me to be a match made in heaven.

Goals:

Next 6 months - Organize life to this change
After 6 months - Be enrolled in a Merchant Marine program
In 2 years - Purchase a small sailboat, and set sail