Jan 282010
I will now sacrifice my better judgment, privacy, and the chance to rekindle an old friendship on the alter of that god which seeks to publicize and reveal even the most intimate details of our lives.
Here is the situation, an old girlfriend from my undergraduate days at Indiana University in Bloomington contacts me after several years by sending a message to my Dad on facebook (BTW I don’t do facebook…I think it’s a joke, more on that later). I sent her a text and she emailed me from work the next day. Here’s her email to me with the names and residence edited out:
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Hello there!
In your own words, ”a fine line between survialist and bum” ? I guess you’ve finally become the mountain man you used to talk about in College hmm? Not exactly the lifestyle I would choose, but to each his own.I was posting pictures on facebook the other day reminiscing about the younger years and came across photos of when you took me camping for spring break. That was god awful! lol. The scenic pictures were nice and the ones of the zoo were too but I still remember sleeping in that cold tent by the water. hahah. Do you remember that?
Tell me what you’ve been up to! I know you were a marine. Where did you go? My Mom said she had a great time talking to you when you stopped by the house all those years ago. It must have been more than 4 years ago though, I’d say it was more like 8 or 9, but anyways, she said that you were in graduate school I believe? I tried finding you after that but do you know how many Wolf’s there are out there?
I would love to hear how you came about the decision to make a 3 year minimalist living trek!? I read that you are still in contact with both your parents. That’s good. What about your brother? Is your Dad still living [...] in Florida? ha ha. I asked how he was doing but he didn’t respond after he wrote that he was indeed Terry Wolf, old man to you, and told me that you were “visiting”. I’m sure it was a little strange for you old man to give you my phone number! lol
Well, a little about me…I don’t live too far way from my parents house. We live on [...] have lived there for about 8 years. We have a [...] son[...], who is a handful and he is currently in [...] grade.
I help manage a 911 Center [...] and my husband is a narcotics detective with the [...] police department. It’s funny how I ended up in a position like this. It’s a great job though, stressful at times, but since I supervise, I don’t really have to do much except answer employee questions for 12 hours a day. Wheee.Hope you hear from you.
[...]
I found in answering her email I covered a lot of ground relevant to this blog. So I’m posting it here:
Did you post the photos of me in the smoky smoky mountains naked on your facebook page? I’ve been wondering how long it would take before naked photos of me out in the woods got splashed all over facebook, I suspect you’re not the only one with a few of those. Our trip to the smoky mountains was kind of lame tho, it sucks that you were so cold, my bad. Our trip to Boston was much more memorable, to me anyway.
Actually you did get a hold of me after I stooped over ur Moms house however many years ago. In fact we exchanged a couple emails but you were married by then so I figured whats the point…kind of what I’m thinking now as I write this. Turns out a Wolf is not all that hard to find if you put your mind to it, just a matter of knowing what ur looking for I guess.
About the Marines.
Well, not to dwell too much on the past or anything, picking up from my time in the Marines. I served fours years as a Marine Corps Riffleman (0311), 2nd Battalion 2nd Marines Golf Company. I was a three time riffle expert and a pistol expert, deployed twice with Marine Expeditionary Units both times serving on USS Austin. On my second deployment I served as 1st wave leader of Golf Company Boat platoon – special operations capable (MEU SOC).
USS Austin Unloading in Morehead City, NC
Cpl Wolf, 1st Wave leader Golf Co. Boat platoon in Africa
with friends
While deployed I worked with Romanian Special Forces and US SEAL teams in Romania, I evaluated Ukrainian forces for entry into NATO and was deployed on the USS Austin in North Africa at the same time the USS Cole was blown up. I served for awhile under Wesley Clark who I wish to this day today had run on the Democratic ticked against George Bush during the 2004 elections. I received two sea service deployment ribbons, a NATO Medal, Armed Forces Service Medal, and Armed Forces Expeditionary Medal. I’ve crossed the Atlantic four times, been through the Mediterranean Sea, Algerian Sea, and as far North as the Black Sea by way of the Turkish straights.
I was honorably discharged on 4/20/01 after four years of active duty. Incidentally my company Gunny Sargent – Gunny Banta, who got out the same year I did, went on to have a successful carrier managing coin laundry shops and made a bunch of money before he blew his brains out in the woods with a shot gun. He was a friend and a mentor. I did manage to make a few friends tho who did not kill themselves or get wasted in Iraq. Shucks I even have a few cop friends, my buddy Tofil is a sheriff in Detroit and another buddy Gny. Sgt. Bain was running the Marine Corps Infantry School in Camp Lejeune last time I talked with him. And West, he became a minister. Amen.
I got out 20% disabled, I remember writing you saying that my body is officially a 20% more painful place to live – I meant it. My service related injuries – the reason I did not end up in Iraq – have since become more severe, recently putting an end to my IT carrier, but lets not compare belly aches yet.
After the Marines I went back to school and received a Masters in Library and Information Science, at that time (2001) billed as a program designed to let you ride the internet boom of the late 90’s which of course burst while I was earning my degree. I remember the first meeting with my graduate school adviser Dr. Howard Rosenbalm who told me “the G.I. Bill is a waste of taxpayers money.” Awesome!
After I spent as much time as anyone has the right to in school I did the unimaginable, I got a job. In fact I had a five or so year carrier doing IT work. Disney and PriceWaterhouseCoopers were two of the better jobs I had. I peeked out at around $40/hr. before service related back problems made it all but imposable for me to spend 8 hours (or more then 20 min.) sitting down.
About my disability.
About two years ago my service related back problems got really serious and extremely painful. I could hardly walk when I moved in with my Moms last Christmas (or was it two Christmases ago…no good at counting the years). After taking a break from working and basically spending 4 weeks on my back along with going to a few of my Moms yoga classes (hey didn’t we meet in a yoga class?) things seemed to clear up with my back somewhat so when sproutbox.com in Bloomington offered me job last January (2009) I thought I’d try it out. Regrettably the Tracker school offered me a much cooler (unpaid) gig at the Tracker school which I regret not taking to this day even more then I regret breaking up with you before heading off to Alaska (and I do regret that, remember me calling you from Alaska begging you to take me back while you, Brian and Brian were…err…living together).
Ahh yes, Alaska…be going back there some day I hope, as you know I’ve got some photos of Alaska on my blog. Sara Palin is of course from Wasilla Valley. It cracked me up when I heard Wasillia Valley all over the news. I have good memories of traveling with a bunch of friends I met from Seattle in Alaska and going to Wasilla Valley in search of the elusive Wasillia Valley Thunder Fuck. We found it and some mushrooms too which added a cretin intensity to the glow of the northern lights and the tangerine scented candles, I won’t bore you with details here, and probably not a good story to tell someone married to a narcotics officer anyhow. How I can even remember that trip I’ll never know, must have been over ten years ago…
So back to Bloomington, not long after working for sproutbox my back became a major problem again. Just saying “back pain” does no justice to the excruciating pain I feel when my back decides to freak out on me. Pinched nerves from a compressed spine. A lot of people say they have back pain but have no idea. I’ll be laid up for weeks sometimes, can’t drive, cant sit down to eat, can’t put my sock on. Still, looking at some of the Marines coming back from Iraq with head traumas and missing limbs – or some who never comeback – I feel relativity fortunate.
About Survival.
Around the same time I moved back to Bloomington I was invited to a series of classes at the Tracker School. These classes are spread out over several months.
Given my life long passion for learning wilderness survival skills, my physical problems which make continuing with my IT carrier imposable, a pile of student loans and credit card debt, and a general feeling that the standard 9-5 work, come home and add content to someone else’s money making machine (i.e. facebook) bores the hell out of me, my current path chose me as much as I chose it.
So what else to do than starting blogging. As far as the difference between being a bum and a survivalist I’m working on a post about that very topic, check my blog to see how it develops. For now I just tell strangers I’m a beach bum…folks in Florida seem to have a better idea of what I’m talking about than when I say that to Midwestern folks who tend to be a bit bitter about the whole affair.
About Facebook.
I’m sure you remember how annoyingly philosophical I could be in college, well I still am and facebook is downright Orwellian. There’s this kind of routine I go through with old friends every now and again when they try to get me to sign up on facebook like they get a commission on the deal, like no one bothered to search “Aaron Wolf” on google, lycos, altavista, yahoo, ask, all the web, bing, goodsearch, or basically any search engine. I am easily found.
As a former application developer I’m aware of the value of content and generally don’t post content on sites that I don’t own. I have to admit tho it is a bit weird to go to my collage girlfriends facebook page and see my Dad pop up has your friend! Did not exactly sell me on the app.
Yeagh, maybe it’s about time I got the hell out my Dad’s house even though he does make a wicked Bloody Mary. Fortunately my next adventure starts at the end of this week.
Talking shit about a pretty sunset.
I guess I’m not sure what to make of you being married to a narcotics detective. I’d say being a narcotics officer is just a job – and I am happy to hear you’re doing well – but it’s a job that involves sending people to prison, sometimes for upward of 35 years. I guess I see the narcs, the gangs, and the politicians as actors in the same corporate prison conspiracy. Frankly the thought of hanging out with a narcotics detective’s wife is a bit unnerving. Probably best if I leave well enough alone.
Still I think about you and my undergraduate days in Bloomington all the time. I hope you think of me fondly as I do you. I’ll be cursing down 10th street in and look up at the window that used to be your dorm room wishing I knew then what I know now, just how fucking special you are. If I end up some old man pinning over “the one that got away” you would most likely be who I’m talking about (hopefully not while ur husband is arresting me). You really send me, there’s a lot of water under the bridge, lots of changes.
I have nothing but love for you. I knew when I went to your house after getting out of the Marines that you were probably married but it was something I had told myself I would do, had been looking forward to seeing you again for a long time.
Still waiting I suppose.
Maybe I’m misreading your e-mail but you sound a bit more sarcastic these days. I guess forging a new friendship with you now – much less some kind of facebook nonsense – is hard to imagine. God knows it takes all I’ve got just to survive and keep moving on…this is just what I do.
So in the name of undergraduate collage love and in the name of obsessing over what could have been I would like to offer up this Carl Dennis poem…I’m sure it would make Carl puke to hear me say it now but it always did make me think about you and my undergraduate days…
The God Who Loves You
It must be troubling for the god who loves you
To ponder how much happier you’d be today
Had you been able to glimpse your many futures.
It must be painful for him to watch you on Friday evenings
Driving home from the office, content with your week?
Three fine houses sold to deserving families?
Knowing as he does exactly what would have happened
Had you gone to your second choice for college,
Knowing the roommate you’d have been allotted
Whose ardent opinions on painting and music
Would have kindled in you a lifelong passion.
A life thirty points above the life you’re living
On any scale of satisfaction. And every point
A thorn in the side of the god who loves you.
You don’t want that, a large-souled man like you
Who tries to withhold from your wife the day’s disappointments
So she can save her empathy for the children.
And would you want this god to compare your wife
With the woman you were destined to meet on the other campus?
It hurts you to think of him ranking the conversation
You’d have enjoyed over there higher in insight
Than the conversation you’re used to.
And think how this loving god would feel
Knowing that the man next in line for your wife
Would have pleased her more than you ever will
Even on your best days, when you really try.
Can you sleep at night believing a god like that
Is pacing his cloudy bedroom, harassed by alternatives
You’re spared by ignorance? The difference between what is
And what could have been will remain alive for him
Even after you cease existing, after you catch a chill
Running out in the snow for the morning paper,
Losing eleven years that the god who loves you
Will feel compelled to imagine scene by scene
Unless you come to the rescue by imagining him
No wiser than you are, no god at all, only a friend
No closer than the actual friend you made at college,
The one you haven’t written in months. Sit down tonight
And write him about the life you can talk about
With a claim to authority, the life you’ve witnessed,
Which for all you know is the life you’ve chosen.Copyright © Carl Dennis, 2001.
If you ever get a hankering to learn about life in the wild or connect with Aaron Wolf you can always do so at acwolf.com.