I guess I could start this out with a little introduction. My name is Joe Dees, I'm from Northern Kentucky, the Cincinnati area (go Reds!), and I'm 32 years old. I have a degree in history from the University of Kentucky (GO CATS!!!), and a degree in political science from Northern Kentucky University. As you can probably guess, I serve in the United States Army at Ft Sill, OK, wear the 214 FA patch on my sleeve and am assigned to HHC 168 BSB. I'm no mechanic, but I like to use my minimal abilities to work on cars, it's soothing, a stress reliever since the rules are set by physics and I can do whatever I like within those limits. Problems arise, and problems are solved. I did grow up helping my father work on old Volkswagens, but this project is my first solo flight, and I'm already discovering all kinds of new things and have called my dad at a frequency of 1 call per 3.5 hours work for advice, and this work has only been “preparatory” work (as he calls it) for the real project at hand. Oh Boy! I learned to drive on a 1968 beetle, and drove a 1974 bus in high school, so I kinda know how these things operate. Anyways, that's my mechanical background. And with it I have 3 VW service manuals, some good buddies, a patient and tolerant car, and a set of Craftsman tools to aid me on my path.
As I said, I'm not a mechanic, just a “Joe” (inadvertently) trying to be like my father or something. At the age when most mechanics begin to learn the trade I was losing the interest in hanging with my dad in the garage. I got into skateboarding, a pursuit that sent me around the country, to Europe, to the edge of my parents' and professors' tolerance since I was “wasting great intellectual abilities by focusing my attention on a piece of wood with wheels,” but that stick taught me a lot about life, society, humanity, philosophy, and myself. It also taught me responsibility and leadership in a round about fashion since I owned a skateboard company and managed 4 wild and out of control weirdos that comprised my team (the guys I sponsored and toured with). I could talk forever about skateboarding, but I will spare you and leave my back story at that. Perhaps other strange details will be revealed as this blog progresses...
But who cares about me, you're all reading this for HER, my bus, Betty. She's a 42 year old dream. A good German girl whose VIN indicates her production date to be May 15, 1970. Small details like the chrome trim indicate she was a “deluxe” model, and even smaller details, like the bolts holding the rear bumper on being all different sizes say she's seen her share of mechanics; as does the fact that her current engine was not the one who accompanied her on that big boat ride from the motherland. She has her scars, blemishes, problems, etc, but that's part of what attracted me to her in the first place. Like the scrawny, little Christmas tree in the Charlie Brown Christmas Special, everybody just needs a little love to make them shine to their full glory. And lucky for Betty, she has me. And lucky for me, I have my dad on speed dial, some friends who believe in me (yeah, I'm baffled too), a bus that doesn't seem to let me take short cuts, and the staff of the Ft Sill Auto Skills Center to help me. Let me tell you a thing or two about my first trip there and meeting the staff. Mr Brabenec's story about Betty and me had already run in the Cannoneer, so they knew who I was and what I was hoping to do when I walked sheepishly into the shop. I had previously been there for the mandatory safety class (offered Thursdays and Fridays at 5:00PM), but had not talked to any of the staff about my project or anything for that matter. Now I am not shy, and my life experiences, coupled with the Army, have made me unafraid of walking into nearly any situation, but still I knew that I was approaching some experts as a lowly bonehead looking for guidance, so I had a little bit of that Wayne's World “I'm not worthy” trepidation as I said hello and formally introduced myself, but they immediately made me feel welcome in their AO. A gentleman named Carlos gave me a tour, allowed me to choose the area in which Betty would be transformed (which I now refer to as Dr Frankenstein's lab), and told me not to be afraid to ask for any help or necessary equipment. Let me tell you, these guys really know their stuff, and the shop, like our Army, is equipped to handle any mission, job, or project no matter how large or small: a full, ground up restoration (world war) or just changing a light bulb (a police keeping mission to provide security for an election), and even the alien, unconventional project, like removing any bolt on Betty (counter-insurgency ops in Afghanistan). The bays are clean, well lit and even heated. This place is made so that any soldier can save a lot of money, learn valuable skills/life lessons, and work on their own cars. I would encourage all of my peers, leaders, and subordinates, young and old alike to take advantage of this great institution that MWR provides for us. You may even find that you love this stuff and seek out your own Betty with whom to bond and do something constructive and fun in your free time. I know you're not scared, for the 7th Army Value is Personal Courage, so if nothing else, stop by, take the safety course, discuss your project with the helpful staff, and/or lend me a hand, passing me wrenches underneath the bus, finding your Karate Kid Zen wet sanding Betty's rust, or whatever while listening to my zany stories about skateboarding, living in Russia, weirdo ex-girlfriends, or any other topic under the sun.
I will also apologize in advance for any typos, grammatical errors, etc in my blog. My editor is currently an overworked, single mother working full time, going to school full time, while still trying to tackle the 3 novellas I recently dumped on her all at once. So I'm going at this solo too.
