Last year I wrote about the day I was drafted in the military. I tried to convey the atmosphere of that day, the feeling of getting into something scary and unknown, leaving one’s home and family, and realizing that there is no way back after one crosses the gate. Yesterday, when the photos of a modern day military draft in Ukraine went around the Internet, I realized that besides the new uniform not much has changed since the day when I showed up at the draft processing location.
The military didn’t allow to keep the civilian clothes, so whatever possessions we had were either thrown away or taken by older soldiers who were allowed to bend the rules a little. I thought I was being clever when I showed up with a short but not bald haircut, like some of the recruits on this photo. Clever wasn’t one of the desired qualities in the military, so I was told to cut my hair again.
Here we see a group of “fresh meat” and a group of soldiers already processed. Typical barracks on the left.
I never looked this good, nor was I ever a fan of walking around naked around people I don’t know. When I was taking my pre-draft medical test, I was lined up together with 5 or 6 more recruits in front of the table with several doctors; we were told to drop our pants down all at once. I guess they were trying to see that all of us had correct equipment down there, they were sitting a few yards away and couldn’t have possibly determined anything else. The arrow-sign on the wall says “doctor”.
In this shot the recruits are united with their new long underwear. In summer it was usually blue boxers and who-knows-what-color tank top. Winter season came with long underpants and long-sleeve undershirt. Every week at the showers the dirty underwear was taken away and the clean underwear was brought in a big stack. If you were slow you’d end up with a wrong size underwear for the whole week or even worse – see the streaks from the previous owner.
Somewhere along the way they were issued a piece of soap.
Now on to the uniform.
Boots are a definite improvement from what I had to wear.
Hats stayed the same but there is mo emblem on the front.
Last look at the old life.
And now all ready to go. I have no idea what’s in these boxes.
What stands out in all these images is a scared look in these kids’ eyes. Some things never change.
Ernest Hemingway is thought to have said that you must do four things to be a man: plant a tree, fight a bull, write a novel and father a son. My life didn’t follow Hemingway exactly but I think I am pretty close: I am raising a daughter, write a blog, planted a sunflower which grew to the size of a small tree and if a bull ever shows up on my doorstep willing to fight, I’ll have only two words for him: “steak dinner”.
This spring I planted some mammoth sunflowers on the 0.00034 acres of land that I own and it proved to be a source of constant amazement and comments from my neighbors. The tallest sunflower is now 9 feet tall and is crowned with a huge flower.
At first is was taller than me…
…than way taller than me.
Soon it was ready to bloom…
…and then it did.
But the most amazing thing is what’s inside.
Sunflowers in front of my house inspired me to get out, play my guitar and sing.
Wow! Do you get your jollies by going around and finding the worst in every place you go? How sad! Did you bother to look at our new Library or the nice Community building or our school or the many nice houses or the new museum building? I pity you if all you see when you go through a community is the worst – and every community has some. We do have a great community – sure we’re struggling to stay alive – What small town isn’t. But we take care of each other, oh, why am I trying to explain anything to someone like you?
This is what I call a Podunk Effect. Every other town in this country has a library, a school and a great community. It’s the rest of the stuff that makes a place unique, even if it’s a rusty truck, broken-down gazebo or an old sign. Podunk Effect makes you want to prove that your town is much much better than some visiting idiot made it out to be, even though the visitor is long gone and will probably never be back. He didn’t do his research, didn’t shake hands, didn’t sign your museum’s guestbook, and now everyone will see your awesome town as a giant pile of rusted metal and construction trash. Podunk Effect makes you boil with anger and leave angry comments on the offender’s site to set him straight.
But make no mistake: meat-loving is one stereotype that the region wears with pride. Lard still plays a starring role in many kitchens, bacon comes standard in salads, and perhaps the most important event on Kansas City social calendars is a barbecue contest.
– blasphemed the alleged heretic (none of it untrue) inadvertently creating a tsunami of righteous outrage.
“How dare he! What does he mean by “meat-loving stereotype”? Lettuce is a vegetable!”
One chef and refuter wrote:
My first reaction to the article was confusion. My second reaction was to laugh. My third reaction was anger.
My first reaction to her post was doubt – do people really have three separate reactions in a row?
My second reaction was to wonder – what was the length of time in which these three reactions occurred? Was it really fast like “I am confused! Ha-ha! Boo!” or did every stage take some time, maybe an hour or more?
My third reaction was amazement – did I just have three reactions in a row? Awesome!
The problem with the NYT article is not the lack of research, or the author taking an easy route of propagating old stereotypes instead of portraying Kansas City as an oasis of vegetarianism in Midwest. The problem is the Pavlovian defensive reaction the article prompted on twitter, blogs, Facebook and even in the local paper, reaction which just like a hurricane in a glass of water is pretty irrelevant in the scheme of things.
Because I went to college I will use a Venn diagram to illustrate my point.
All the reactions, comments, blog posts and rebuttals are staying here, with an exception of maybe this short note on the New York Magazine’s site, where one succinct comment expressed how most New Yorkers feel about Kansas City.
Here is one headline you will never see in print: “New Yorkers are outraged about an unfair article about New York City published in the KC Star“. New Yorkers don’t need our or anyone else’s approval and acknowledgement, so why do we have to get hysterical and make everyone love us just like a podunk Williamsburg,KS? Until we drop small town mentality and just do our thing whether it’s eating meat or tofu, we will always suffer from the lack of self-respect as the city.
No one is flying in here for the local vegetarian smorgasbord, it exists mostly for the people who live here and their occasional meat-hating guest. And, to be fair, the meat-loving stereotype served this city well, financially as well as being known as the BBQ capital of the world in the rest of the world. Recently I watched a clip of a Russian show where a lady presented a host with several bottles of the Kansas City BBQ sauce (ironically with all-vegetarian ingredients). That’s not a bad thing to be famous for.
One thing this city needs to learn from New York: when you say or do something that a New Yorker doesn’t like, he will show you a finger and move on.
We just need to learn to move on. But not before showing the finger.
