Been too long (2.13.05)

OR, aboard the USS Bahrain Richard.

I did not know that the one-hit wonder band that sang "You're my butterfly, sugar, baby…" ripped off the Red Hot Chili Peppers for the main riff. I'm listening to their Mother's Milk album on the ole' mp3 player (Thanks Liz and Len!) and right in the middle of Pretty Little Ditty is that riff. That song was my guilty pleasure song somewhen in '00-'01 timeframe. The rest of the album was just bunk. So, now I can sleep at night knowing that the only good part of their only decent song was actually written by a great band at the height of their creativity.

In other news: We have finally left Bahrain! For a while it really looked like we could be stuck there for a month waiting on parts for the boat. The grease monkeys patched it up well enough to limp through the gulf and now we're almost in Kuwait. Maybe I would have been happier staying in Bahrain for just a little longer.

I am sure that there are some guys who have interesting stories of the time they spent in the Arab world's only island state. I haven't heard much more than "One night in Bahrain I got so drunk and…" Which means that there are a whole lot of broke bank accounts right now. The exchange rate there was something like 3:1. meaning three U.S. dollars equal about one Bahrain Dinar (or B.D.). When the cabbie tells you he will take you to an authentic Irish pub for ten BD, it's close to $30. When talk him down to three BD, feeling pretty good about your haggling skills, you still paid nine bucks for maybe a mile and a half in his cab. When you get to the bar, Corona longnecks cost 1.9 BD, a pint of Guinness will run you 2.7 BD.

The more I travel the more I miss home.
I didn't leave the boat too much. I went out in town once or twice and, honestly, didn't take a single picture. It's the middle east, you know what it looks like. Although this country, home to some 600 thousand people, has not been involved in any of the recent violence, it still looks like the middle east. All the buildings are short, squat, and the same color as the dust everywhere else. There are very few women in the streets, and those I caught glimpses of were covered head to toe in shapeless black. The people are exactly as friendly as is required to get your money, just like every other port.

I looked at buying postcards, but even those were truly uninspiring.

The funniest thing I saw were the vendors on the street hussling "real" Rolex watches…"Hey bud-dy! Look bud-dy! Bling bling, bud-dy!" The guy two bunks down from me bought three for 16 (dollars not dinar). Each one lasted no more than a day.

Can't wait to get home. I know that there are a lot of guys that have been in the thick of the war for up to a year.