Postcards from Tradocia


Atlanta is supposedly party central but it seems mostly to be a good place to beg for money. An hour couldn’t go by without someone accosting us, weaving some sad tale of disability and grief. One guy even provided documentation of his chronic bronchitis!

Despite the street company, it was good to get out of Columbus and Ft Benning – even if my comrades’ musical tastes left something to be desired. Nothing quite like a two hour drive with ear splitting music you hate to improve morale. Flip-flopping between Dave Matthews and Eminem is about enough to drive this man insane.

Today two of our three duffel bags and our footlockers are being loaded onto the shipping container for transport to Ft Hood. Our time at lovely Benning is almost at an end – we’ll be on our way by early next week, I imagine. From the sub-tropical to the sub-Saharan, I guess. With any luck it’ll just be downtime until we leave – I can’t forsee our command making up a bunch of crap for us to do, but anything goes around here.

There’s a refrigerator next to this computer that’s completely blocked in by empty computer boxes, stacked to the ceiling. As far as I can tell, the only purpose of said refrigerator is to cause enough magnetic interference to make the image on this monitor wobble sickeningly. Barf!


  1. Mom and Dad

    Alex – What a posting! A hoot. Sounds like people are discovering your BL0G. What’s up?

    Love Dad and Mom.

  2. Spikebot


  3. Mrs. Melobi

    Photo is now gone. I can’t even recall what it was. Some boxing match?

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