The Adventures of Fred: Fort Campbell

Fred outside the Rakkasan HQ

Okay so yet another trip away from home, away from family.  Luckily, as we have well established, Fred kept me company again on this trip.  Our journeys bring us to Fort Campbell, Kentucky… actually not completely accurate because the whole of the post crosses the KY/TN border.  Yeah, that means one post gets the support of two sets of Congressmen/Senators.  Don’t see Ft. Campbell BRAC-ing anytime soon.  Fred was pleaseed he got a two-fer without any additional effort.  For myself, I’ve been here before.

Anyway, it was the standard drill of taking all day to travel by air/car combo in vehicles that use midgets – sorry, Little People – to design prototypes and layouts.  After two plane rides I was again well-acquainted with my kneecaps, and finally got here in one piece.  This time, a semi-dangerous rental car: Dodge Avenger.  Fred decided that was acceptable, but didn’t live up to the Mustang GT convertible.  Sorry Fred.  He’s pretty opinionated about our ongoing rentals given the fact his legs won’t reach the pedals.  That, and a driver’s license that small is very difficult to read.  Trust me.

Two interesting pieces of history trivia for you connected to this trip: The road my hotel is on is named in honor of Wilma Rudolph, the Olympic Medalist who overcame childhood polio causing a twisted leg to earn three Olympic gold medals.  She grew up here in Clarksville, TN.  Also, in case you’re wondering from the picture caption, Fred wants you to know that “rakkasan” is a unit name adopted from the Japanese for ‘falling down umbrella men’ (cit: Wikipedia and my own head).  This was a poor translation of the concept of airborne units (they tumble out of airplanes like errant Samsonite luggage with parachutes) to the locals in Japan, where the brigade was conducting occupation duty after WWII.  The name stuck.

I had forgotten how quickly summer hammers down in this area.  It is nice and humid already with a playful hint of rotting river vegetation in the air, and I’d thought Kansas was getting oppressive.  The good news was this is only a three-day stay, and as-of this writing, I have to collect up all my random crap into my luggage to get ready for tomorrow.  The other upside is that being a frog, none of this bothers Fred in the slightest, so I didn’t have to listen to complaints.  Then again, he mainly only smiles a lot, and I wouldn’t mind the humidity if I were not wearing pants either.  The trip mission is complete: I managed to turn a two hour meeting here into an all-day event and was able to generate enough feedback to keep me buried in work for longer than I have before my next trip on Sunday…

The memorable event of the trip was sitting in a Logan’s Road House for dinner and spotting a sign over the bar that said: “To be served alcohol you must be born on or before this day in 1990.”  Though I had to ask for a pencil to do the math, I determined that on that day (yesterday) in 1990, I was in fact already 21.  Thanks for the reminder of how old I’m getting, Logan’s.

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