The Von Klepner Curse!

Today while walking back from lunch, the topic of poo came up among the Marines and I. To that end, I’ve come to learn that there are two types of people in this world, the first kind walks into a public restroom, enters a stall and lets it rip as fast and as loud as possible when he or she needs to "go number 2”, never once batting an eye. The other kind tries feverishly to control the tone of his external anal sphincter to allow for the quietest release of defecate and flatulence as possible, maintaining his dignity, even though it never gets recognized or applauded. This quietly ignored facet of human nature has always puzzled me, especially since it is a natural body function, and that it feels so much better to “let it all go quickly”. [To quote the words of my wise deceased grandmother – “You can’t hold what you don’t have in your hand!”]

There are however, as I have come to learn, scenarios where paying no heed to dignity is acceptable, if not encouraged. For example, when I did some combat military medical training in San Antonio, Texas 2 years ago, the rudimentary desert toilets were all lined up very close to one another, not separated by walls of any kind. This was the first time that I was forced to publicly crap with strangers while staring at them in the face, and it was an unwritten “rule of manliness” to intentionally lose all grace and make as many loud noises as fast as possible from the moment you sat down on the throne. In fact, this was actually rewarded by comments like “Nice out!” or “Sweeet” or “Those MREs are givin’ me the shits too” – you know, to break the ice (I would suppose). It was cool to crap loud. It showed that you didn't give a shit (no pun intended). Yet here in the heads of Al Asad, with walls between the toilet seats, dignity and grace remain intact in just about half of our Marines, and many don't like to "drop off the kids" (as is the latest and greatest expression for pooing) while others are in their presence. The wise reader might think that my observations are perhaps just coincidence – that all this nonsense is merely in my head. Well I have considered this contingency, and that is why several times I have “pretended” to leave the head, opening, then shutting the door, while staying inside remaining ever so still. Sure as shit, within 3 seconds -“Splat! Plop! Plop!” Try it sometime and you'll see what I mean.

Some men attest that when they enter the bathroom alone to “do #2” and are interrupted by an intruder, they secretly pray that the intruder walks up to the urinal and not into a stall (to allow for a shorter bathroom stay so that they can wait until the intruder leaves before letting her rip). This commandment is null and void if the intruder happens to be a friend and you say hi before you both enter your designated stalls. This scenario, as often occurs here, allows for the two Marines to chat while crapping. When timed right, the small talk can coincide with the moment of release so as to never hear anything but the discourse. Other occurances that aren't timed right are usually met with laughter from both parties, depending on the noises made. Troublesome noises are often met with comments like "Dude, you gotta cut back on those damm protein shakes!"

For women I imagine bathroom encoutners become more complicated, I mean, since everyone enters a stall (except for those woman that just go to “powder their noses”, which I imagine only occurs in movies), who is to know how long they’ll stay in there? Do women wait a few seconds to see if it’ll be a short stay? I wonder. I guess this makes women at a disadvantage, which is too bad because I would hypothesize that women are even MORE self conscious about their "noises" than men.

Although this doesn't apply to the vast majority of Marines, some are offended when another fails to control their anal sphincter tone with finesse, restated, make a loud crap in the stall next to them. One Marine’s Uncle, Mr. Von Klepner, is one such individual. He says that every time he goes into a public restroom, sure as shit, someone comes in right next to him and makes the loudest, most mal-fragrant defecation ever. He calls it the “Von Klepner Curse”. Personally, I could care less how loud you crap next to me. I’ll likely never see your face because I’ll make sure to time my escape out of the bathroom in such a way as to avoid contact with you (another puzzling behavior pattern) and moreover, if you make noise, it gives me permission to make noise, as this is another unwritten rule - the misery loves company theory, or something of the sort. What is the point of this story you may ask?...let me explain…

I woke up this morning and on the way back from the DFAC (aka chow hall) one of my Marines and I looked up at the sky and noticed something, - clouds. They were white and fluffy and beautiful and he said “Wow, I never thought I’d take clouds for granted.” But when 2 months pass by without seeing one, you really do miss them. The sandstorms aren’t storms that involve clouds, just wind and sand. I began to think about all of the things I miss that I take for granted back home...using the sink’s tap water to brush my teeth for example (we have to use bottled water here every morning). Not having to wear shower shoes while showering. Stepping on carpet. Using real silverware, plates and glasses instead of plastic disposable ones. Having privacy in your bedroom. Having a quiet place to escape to. Hot showers that you can take for as long as you want (here we take “Navy showers” to conserve water. That means you turn the water on for 10 seconds, get wet, then turn the water off. Then you lather up with soap and shampoo, turn the water back on and rinse off for a minute with minimal water pressure, then get out.) Living in a clean environment (here everything is always dusty, even 2 hours after you dust), and then there are more abstract things that I miss, like human contact. I don’t mean anything provocative, just hugging for example. Back home in Hawai’i I hug and kiss all my friends, it’s just what we do. I realized the other day that I haven’t hugged anyone in almost 3 months, or even held someone’s hand. I also miss trees, and the sound they make when the wind runs through their branches or ocean waves and the sound they make when they crash. Anyway, we take a lot of things for granted, and perhaps one of the things I most take for granted back home, is being able to shit in your own bathroom, with privacy and be as loud as you want. (Didn’t think I’d tie it all together, did you???)

Soldier’s Angel Diana Scarfo, from Pembroke Pines, FL (a place I’ve visited many times), sent us a peculiar, yet amusing care package today. Among the items in it were an inflatable pool, inflatable pool toys, water guns and water balloons. We blew all of the things up and got excited at the mere notion of swimming, like we were kids again. Unfortunately, the base is under a water conservation order (we barely have enough water to shower) so we can’t use some to fill an entire pool. Nevertheless, the items in the box brought a lot of smiles and laughs to our Marines and perhaps one day I will post a picture of a bunch of us sitting together in the pool.

You see, it’s the little things we do in life that mean a world of difference to those around us. People don’t realize the repercussions of their actions and how they can affect others. Some of my closest friends and family do – like my sister for example, who in her most recent care package to me, she sent me comics and a few pictures of my niece Kiera – these made me laugh and smile, and seeing them at the start of my day really put me in a great mood, ready to tackle the challenges ahead of me. (Thanks K, loved the package!!!) I realize the importance of my words and actions every day and how they can influence others and I think this is one of my gifts. For example, the other day at the end of the workday everyone was tired, drained and feeling down as they rode the bus home to the barracks. I sprang up to the front and plugged in my IPOD and played some nonsensical 90s song that I knew would make everyone smile and laugh (the other day I played “Pump Up The Volume” and it made everyone laugh and sing.) Other days I’ll have 80s trivia. I’ll sit up front and play 80s music and people on the bus will have to guess the title and artist. Stupid, yet it makes them laugh and sets a good positive tone for the work day. Other times I’ll randomly show up in one of my guy’s shops with a box of Strawberry Oreos or a pack of water balloons, still other times I’ll motivate my Marines to go to the gym with me and get in a good workout, instead of sitting by themselves, smoking another butt and feeling bummed out. (My friend Billy often tells me that my mission here is a “Mission of Aloha”.) These small gestures are what keeps us, as human beings going. And if everyone around the world could really see how their thoughts, words and actions can affect others in a positive way, I bet that the world would be a much brighter place. Amen. (or as my friend Vic says, “Amen sister!”). So I guess the point of this entire blog entry might go something like this: “It’s ok to shit loud as long as you think about how all of your crap might affect others around you.”