Wednesday, February 01, 2012

Some memories just stick with you

They may not be terrifying or life changing or even a big event, they just do.

When I was in the Navy *Oh Gawd, here he goes again* your job was your rate -and they still do have ratings.
For you in the other services, think of it as an MOS.

Anyway, we had certain races that kind of gravitated to certain rates... White boys would be found to be a vast majority in Bravo Company with the Construction Electrician and Utilitiesmen (plumbers, pipefitters and A/C experts).
Charley Company with their Builders (carpenters and masons) and the Steel Workers (welders and re-bar tiers) were getting browner with more Latinos.
Alpha Company with their Equipment Operators (truck drivers and heavy equipment operators) and Construction Mechanics (...mechanics and hydraulic guys) had the definite chocolate feel to it.

Then came Honey Hotel Company with the office people, supply guys Engineering Aides and Mess Servicemen (cooks).
Most of the supply guys and MS's were Filipino, so we got a lot of meals flavored with a mix of Asian and Latin flavor.
...And lots of chicken. Really- lots of chicken. Especially if you got stuck on the third meal shift- then you had to get your beef at the EM club.
Anyway, we were in Gulfport for homeport and I saw on the menu that for supper we were going to have liver.
That's all I saw before I started envisioning breaded and fried slices of brown heaven smothered in fried onions.
Ummm....panfried liver and onions....

Anyway, time finally arrived for the galley to open and as I was going down the line, I couldn't see that wonderful mound of brown goodness, then I asked one of the servers about the liver and he pointed to a pan of frigging liver adobo!



  1. Doesn't sound too terribly awful, but it definitely wasn't what you were expecting.

  2. Dude! Think liver goulash- they way they make it.

  3. I don't like liver, but the only way I tolerated it was when it was pan fried, cooked only until tender, with a substantial amount of grilled onions on top.

  4. The racial spread sounds about like it was when my dad was in the Navy (1946-1950). Some things don't change much, I guess.