As I was trying to get more in touch with why I feel this way, I was reminded of the story of the Red Box. If you’re in the U.S. you’ve likely seen, or even used one of these at the supermarket or fast food establishment. It’s called “Red Box” and it’s a little automated video rental kiosk. The concept is really pretty neat – you swipe a credit card, rent a new release movie for…I dunno, I think $1/day. You can return the DVD to any Red Box anywhere! Yep, seems pretty neat. And cheap! So, the last time I was back in the U.S. I rented a movie from one of these things. All went well with the rental but when I tried to return it, the machine was on the fritz….stuck in some sort of infinite computer loop or something. I was actually standing in line behind another person for quite some time. I just figured the guy was a luddite and couldn’t figure out the overly complex task of inserting an object in a slot, but alas, it wasn’t him, it was the stupid machine – just sitting there, not doing anything. He finally gave up and when I stepped up to the machine it was displaying some sort of error message. I found the manager of the fast food establishment and asked for help. My rudimentary Espanol skills tell me that he was trying to inform me that it wasn’t his problem – the machine didn’t belong to the restaurant and that in order for my problem to be resolved I would be required to speak to some cretin in Bangladesh or Tallahassee. I called, I was put through a series of voice prompts that resulted in yet another infinite loop. No matter what I said I was always met with a response of “oh, so you’d like to become a member” or “did you say you’d like to make a payment?”. Yes, seriously. This went on for what seemed like forever. Finally, through some sort of incomprehensible electronic sorcery, my call was routed to a never-ending queue to speak with a real live human being. The music that was looped in between assurances that my call “is very important” caused my ears such pain that I prayed that Lawrence Welk’s orchestra would appear and those goofy tap dancers from his show would ram the heels of their stupid little tap shoes so deep into my ears that I would be relieved of hearing such atrocities for eternity. No such luck, only more nerve-racking music that Satan himself must have orchestrated in a bid to drive normal people into homicidal rages.

After being on hold for something like 6,546 days, I was finally connected to a real human who, surprisingly, happened to be extraordinarily congenial and was able to tell me that their systems had crashed or something and that I would have to wait to return my DVD and that the system would automagically know that I wasn’t able to return it on time and, furthermore, I wouldn’t be charged for the “extra” day. I was quite relieved by this news but at the same time my level of annoyance had gotten really out of hand. Even if I figured that my time was worth minimum wage, I could have just purchased the DVD and been better off economically than to have spent the time I spent trying to turn the stupid thing back in…and that’s only counting the time at the kiosk and on the phone and no time driving back and forth from the stupid thing.

Now, to most people dealing with this type of thing on a daily basis an experience like this surely seems quotidian but to me who has become accustomed to problem resolution being done in a very personal manner and quite timely…well, this experience became another huge frustration and an unbearable vexation and representative of everything I seem to come to Antarctica to avoid. Seriously, my biggest frustration here is when the coffee runs out and as amped up as I get about things like that, the resolution is so completely simple and easily managed that I feel fortunate to not have to deal with impersonal solutions to problems.

Enjoy your Red Box DVD kiosk, your ATMs, your self-checkout, drive-through banking and dining where something ALWAYS goes amiss. Bask in the glory of 64 channels of shit – several of which seem to have some screaming jack ass purporting to be reporting the news. Enjoy all of those modern “conveniences”. I think I’m going to go to some unknown beach that barely has electricity and where “agua caliente” as an amenity isn’t something you can take for granted and is a selling point at some (but not all) lodging. I’m going to the beach to live the “sandal life”.

The Options:

Work some middle-east contract

Judging by the traffic in my email inbox, many defense contracts have been either awarded or have received continuing funding. I can’t recall any time where I have seen such a large number of employment solicitations in my inbox. All of the major players are represented and an even larger number of staffing firms. I have been in contact with a number of people from a number of companies who all want to hire me. Does a lot of good for my self-esteem, but I’ve got a bit of a timing problem, as all of these positions need to be filled immediately – they’re all looking for people who can start right away i.e. have all of their paperwork processed and be in whatever country when the fiscal year begins.

I’ve been curious about working one of these contracts for quite some time and with the superior pay that these positions come with I could easily finance a condo on Waikiki without committing for too much time. Certainly worth considering.

Another Ice Job

It’s safe to assume that there’s a position available for me back on the other side of the continent. There are several upsides to pursuing one of those positions, not the least of which is a company-paid round-trip ticket to New Zealand and more free food and cheap beer. The chance to see what happens next has a very strong appeal and another good reason to consider working in Antarctica for yet another season.

Other Overseas Jobs

There are a plethora of job opportunities for someone with my skill set. I have investigated many job opportunities on small islands throughout the Pacific and Caribbean. The most appealing one that I came across was a Chief Mechanic position on a private resort island in Belize. I was extremely interested in this position, but they were looking for a couple and Marsha wasn’t as thrilled about the job (for her, some hideous accounting job) as I. Meh…

Travel

Taking time off and traveling are the most appealing options. At the end of this contract, I will be given yet another free Antarctic cruise with disembarkation at Punta Arenas, Chile, from there I have a company-paid plane ticket all the way back to Wyoming. This ticket is about as flexible as I need it to be, and with time and money I figure I could see and do a lot in South America. Galapagos, Easter Island, Igauzu Falls, Machu Picchu, Chan Chan, The Amazon – these are all places that have a certain appeal to me and most of them are on my “to-do” list.

Ahhh…the burden of choice

So, what will it be then? Well, because, as Marsha says, “God laughs as we’re making plans”, I really have no plan at this point, I’m totally uncommitted to anything and open to whatever comes my way. The biggest challenge for me is to stave off the temptation to purchase a plane ticket and just allow things to unfold. Stay tuned for…well, something.

“The water is turned on for 2.5 minutes for you to wet your entire body. Then it is turned off while you then soap yourself quickly. Then the water is turned back on for another 2.5 minutes for you to wash off the soap. You have to be quick because you don’t get a second chance.”

And from what I gather, this is part of the daily routine. I just can’t muster up any sympathy for him. Antarctica contains 70% of the earth’s freshwater and 90% of the earth’s ice. The B-15 iceberg alone, which made news in 2005, contains more than 1000 trillion gallons of water. That is an amount completely unfathomable to me, but by the estimation of leading glaciologists familiar with B-15, that is enough water to cover all of the land on earth with .5 inches of water – or 5 inches of water on all of the agricultural land on earth. And B-15 is but a sliver of the total mass of ice on the continent. Here at the South Pole, the ice is two miles thick and goes on for as far as the eye can see in all directions. The point I’m driving at here is that there’s a hell of a lot of water in this “desert”. Unfortunately, that water is locked in ice, and it takes heat to get it. It costs a great deal of money to generate the heat required to melt ice. Therefore, every person on station is limited to two two-minute showers per week. Believe me when I say that a two minute shower is very much less than satisfying.

My heart bleeds for you Mr. Thai Prisoner.

There hasn’t been much activity on here since September; partly because I’ve been extremely busy. Work has been very hectic and I’ve managed to fill my free time up with things other than writing/blogging/surfing. I have weekly Spanish group, sports leagues, a Wednesday night radio show with Marsha (we DJ a show called uncommon ground which revolves around our distaste for each others musical interests), going to travelogues, hosting a travelogue, teaching juggling and practicing juggling. Also, it seems like less of an adventure being here this time. Nothing is new, fresh and exciting so I don’t feel compelled to write about it. That is about to change, however. On Monday, I am scheduled to go to WAIS. WAIS stands for West Antarctic Ice Sheet, it’s a deep field camp and I will be there for two weeks (give or take) filling in for the camp mechanic who is currently gone. Very soon after that I will be off to Pole for the winter (provided I pass the psych eval and don’t bail out at the last minute). I’m actually getting very excited about being there for the winter.

The Russia gig is starting to lose its appeal. The process for getting a security clearance has become arduous and that is compounded by my being in Antarctica. One step of the process is submitting a set of fingerprints and there is no fingerprint ink or law enforcement here and I’m running out of time. If I don’t manage to get it done in the next few weeks, then mail will stop moving until I leave in November. Also, much of the contact information that I have provided in the questionnaire for people who can verify my employment and residence here will have changed so I will have to fill the questionnaire out again. Anyhow, I am starting to think of alternate plans if I don’t get my security clearance done. Taking a year off to chase snow and surf is very high on that list.

I haven’t taken many pictures this year, but if you want to see some good ice pics check out Aeon Jones on Flickr.

That’s about it for now. Maybe I will be inspired by something at WAIS or Pole to write about.

Every year a re-supply vessel brings all the supplies down that will be needed during the next year’s science season. Food, construction materials, machinery, parts, science equipment, liquor…basically everything that one can imagine. Due to the beauracracy of getting items down here, it takes approximately two years from the time an item is ordered until it actually gets here. During that two years, the order is heavily scrutinized and tough questions are asked which establish whether the item is actually needed, can the item be substituted, is there already something on station that could be used instead…The idea is a sound one and the procurement process is designed to maximize your tax dollars. Sounds great right? Well…in some cases it isn’t great. Someone’s job is to ensure there is enough bedding on station to support the approximately 1100 people that the station can hold. This person apparently decided to order new comforters. Through the process of scrutinization, a less expensive alternative was found to the comforters that were ordered, so they were purchased and shipped instead…..so after two years a container full of comforters finally arrived and was promptly put back on the ship to be sent back. Why do you suppose they won’t work? Because they are ‘dry clean only’, and we haven’t got any one-hour martinizers.

Napkins were ordered from New Zealand, but they don’t fit our USA napkin dispensers

Nasty old mattresses were replaced with new ones, but they were ‘single’ mattresses and the bed frames on station are ‘twin’ so they slide around while you’re trying to sleep….the comedy of errors goes on an on.

Havin’ a BLAST. Yesterday, I witnessed the launch of this season’s most impressive baloon payload. It’s called BLAST – an acronym for Balloon Borne, Large apeture, Submillimeter Telescope. In a nutshell, its job is to detect star-forming regions.

What I’m trying to get at is that your success depends on my success and I am emotionally invested in your project before you even hit the ice. Do you think your transportation just happens? Do you think your gear just arrives? Do you think your meals magically appear? To do whatever it is that you came here to do, you need transportation, quarters, food, gear and various other stuff. We make it happen. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but there isn’t an auto parts store nearby. You probably have noticed that the equipment you are driving around in is used. During a great part of the austral summer, it doesn’t seem too cold at McMurdo, but try holding onto a hunk of metal that is 30 degrees farenheit. Believe me, it’s cold! Knowing that I have overcome adversity, knowing that I have had to make do without fills me with a sense of pride.

Yes, we envy you. We want to get out and experience Antarctica but please don’t pity me for not spending my time here exclusively in a field camp. I take a great deal of pride knowing that I, in the face of great adversity, have contributed to the furtherance of human knowledge. Phrases like “I can’t do that without parts” have been replaced by “I’ll think of another way to do the job”. Thanks to the kitchen staff, the housing staff, logistics, fuels, waste, IT, firehouse, cargo, ATO and all the other departments, without whom I couldn’t do my job and without whom my entire experience in Antarctica might not be as rich.

So….everyone who comes to Antarctica signs an offer letter that states their wages. It is also made very clear to anyone wanting to work here that they will be expected to work 54 hours per week. If you can’t be happy working for that amount of pay and for those hours, then don’t sign up – simple! Also, there was a question asked at today’s “all hands meeting” about televisions and why there isn’t a television in every dorm room. Seriously, did you come here to watch fucking tv?

I had a bit of an emotional meltdown a few weeks ago. Some tough questions came up, and in the end, I am a better person and know more about myself for confronting those questions. As a result of this I now know that, as I get closer to my 40th birthday, that my big aspiration in life is to be a ski bum. That’s it, I’m not going to be the one to cure cancer or solve world hunger or promote world peace. I simply want to ski.

O.K. enough of my drivel. Have a good one!

Last Saturday I was privileged to attend the annual 70′s disco themed party. Marsha commented that it was strange that this is part of our lifestyle. She’s right, along with world travel and eating dinner amongst some of the best and brightest that the world has to offer, we go to parties where people put on some sort of wig and dance to awful music. Disco music is something that most of us tried to forget, why are we memoralizing it here? Why not a 70′s Lynrd Skynrd party or something? I’ve also come to accept the fact that guys here, especially those who work at the fire department, love to dress up in drag. Didn’t Salman Rushdie or someone say that in a society that hasn’t got enough females that the males will assume the role? I dunno…I find it disturbing yet humorous. Here are a couple of pics. A big thanks to Sylvestre Guidi for immortalizing these precious moments.

Marsha gets jiggy!

I can dance if I want to

This guy’ll be sorry when his senate campaign is derailed by this picture

Lip service is still being paid to safety here. We’ve all worked places where that happens, but here’s how it works here. In the coffee house, there’s a space where they show movies from time to time. Last season this space was lit with Christmas lights. They’re just about perfect for when you want to go to the restroom without stepping all over the bodies strewn about. Well, this year they have been removed because they are a fire hazard. I now have to feel my way through a maze of sweaty rednecks (well…only on Dolly Parton marathon days) to get to the restroom because Cletus and Lerlean wrapped three tons of conductive material around a tree that nobody has bothered to water since Halloween and they done burnt up the trailer park one Christmas. Meanwhile, my employer is perfectly o.k. with taking someone with two or three year’s worth of experience driving their mother’s escort and putting them behind the wheel of a ten ton articulated cargo truck and driving up and down an icy 12% grade all day. I feel safer already.

I have a long-standing philosophy about picking up girls at the gym. I have always felt that women who go to the gym may very well be interested in being picked up but it ain’t by any man who’s there. However, my mind may have been changed. First, you have to consider what some of these girls wear. A baggy pair of shorts and T-shirt are adequate workout wear but when some girl wears a form fitting tight outfit it becomes difficult to not ogle. Lately, the girls who are lacking the form to have form-fitting clothing seem to be trying to compensate by veiling themselves in a cloud of toxic gas smelling perfume. I guess if my eyes are burning from this haze that emanates from you, I can’t possibly be disgusted by your haggard looks. I can’t help but wonder if we’ve received a plane load of Eau du Seahag.

Well, that’s about all I have for now. I must excuse myself to go snort some powdered bleach to try to rid my nostrils of this stench.