2008.10.04
No Good Deed...
Last night, I stopped at the door of Lieutenant Jeremy “Jay” Alaniz of San Antonio, Texas on the way back to my room from calling my wife. I knocked on the door firmly and heard him say, “Just a second.” I had no idea what I had coming to me.
Jay opened the door with whisk. Standing before me was a curious site. In his splinted hand was an extended Gerber, which he was using as pliers. In his good hand was nail clippers. As my brain tried to compute what my eyes were seeing, my head cocked to the side like a dog might when it is trying to figure out if the words coming out of its master’s mouth are questioning if he wants dinner.
Anticipating my question, Jay held his splinted hand out in front of my face and said, “I can’t cut the nails on this hand.” With eyes of desperation his next words inquired, “Can you help me out, Rich?”
With that I took his hand as if it were my own, holding it firmly but gently and went to work. I trimmed his pinky nail with more detail than I do my own. I worked with the diligence that I once saw in a Korean lady at the mall. But my concentration was interrupted.
Though my mind was on task, my nose betrayed me. Was it sacrificing me to attention deficit? So I commented, “Jay, I’m not going to lie. Something in your room…it smells.” Jay responded, “You think?” I tried to shrug it off, but as I toiled on his next finger my mind was racing to identify the smell. “It almost smells like mayonnaise turned bad or rotten eggs,” I said in stride. He let out a perplexed HUMPF, which expressed the slightest amount of both interest and disdain.
With my nose working over time and my Sherlock Holmes wit working overtime, I went in for the middle finger nail. Little did I know that the key to the mystery was right under my nose.
A big whiff through my nasal passage was quickly followed by a loud snort. “Jeremy! It’s your hand!” I looked at him in wonderment with my head cocked to the side for the second time that night.
Jay’s face held straight for a moment. Then villainous smirk swept across his face. “Oh, right. Yeah, see, just before you came…I had just taken off the nasty socks that I had been wearing all day. Gave them a good scratch and cleaned out the toe jam…”
My stomach shuddered. “Eh, Jay, don’t worry about it. No big deal,” I said and went back to work, keeping my face away this time. Finishing his last finger, I could not help but stare at the dark matter trapped under his finger nail.
“Really, don’t worry about it, Jay,” I said as I handed back his nail clippers, his splinted hand still grasping the Gerber. “I think I’ll just go and wash my hands. But, eh, next time just ask. And, oh, wash your hands first, eh?” After thoroughly washing my hands mid-way up my forearms, I immediately reported to room of Sergeant First Class (now selected for promotion) Kevin Connaughton of Sulphur Springs, Texas.
The next knock on Jay’s door was KC, asking if he would like a pedicure. Jay declined.
Lieutenant Jeremy "Jay" Alaniz of San Antonio, Texas
Haha, wow. For my sake, I hope you were exaggerating a bit... otherwise, are you saying that this is what I can look forward to when Jeremy comes home? At least he was using clippers!
Comment by Eva — October 5, 2008 @ 1:43 am
Eva,
Notice, I did not use the phrase "so there I was."
This story needs no exaggeration.
Allow me to be the bearer of bad news so that you will not be surprised later: guys and our habits in general are gross.
Comment by Rich Connaroe — October 5, 2008 @ 5:29 am
Your story is a true testament to "brotherhood". You have a far stronger, uh, stomach than mine!
The question is, was this pre-meditated revenge on his part, and what did *you* do to him earlier in the day?!
Stay safe!
Comment by Ed S. — October 5, 2008 @ 3:29 pm
Thanks for helping Jeremy out, Capt. Connaroe. I worked so hard for so many years to impress the importance of good hygene on Jeremy. He is actually pretty clean at home--better than his brother, Matthew. I guess that all the lessons did not stick. Your thoughtfulness is definitely up and beyond the call and I owe you a nice pedicure and manicure at the mall when you return. Thanks for the photos. It is good to see Jeremy smiling and on the mend even if he is stinky...Jeremy's mom
Comment by Moses and Patricia Alaniz — October 5, 2008 @ 8:57 pm
Mrs. Alaniz,
Eh, hot and sweaty, we all stink. Actually, I would say that Jay is one of the more hygienic and least stinky of the bunch. It's rough to have boots on all day in sweaty socks and have something other than stinky feet. You did an awesome job passing along cleanliness. And his is a terrific guy! I couldn't ask to be surrounded by a better group of guys.
Comment by Rich Connaroe — October 6, 2008 @ 2:22 pm
Cute story about the experience. I will have to find the photo my son sent me of his bunk and mosquito netting he had in his tent when they were over there. Jeremy's surroundings look very nice. Has his own room and a door on it! Glad to see they are providing our soldiers with better facilities. I imagine the heat over there sometimes is almost unbearable. I forget how many days Rob and his soldiers went without showers and after several days I believe their first showers were in the palace which was housing headquarters at that time. Would be harder to keep your feet clean when taking baths from water in your helmets too!!
Comment by Catherine Thompson — October 8, 2008 @ 6:36 am
Rich, not sure if you remember me but I helped coach your Cross Country Team at Northside. I told myself then that you were different and would make something of yourself. I bet your mom is so proud of your accomplishments. Take care of yourself and your men.
Best Regards
Detective Dave Flynn
Comment by Dave Flynn — October 8, 2008 @ 2:56 pm
Dave,
It is so good to hear from you. The last time I saw you it was the fall of my senior year at Northside High in 1999.
I am not sure I ever got to convey to you how much I appreciated your coaching and advice. Perhaps you did not make me a better runner, but, without a doubt, you were a role model. You are every day that you wear the uniform. Not only to impressionable young adults but the masses of children that grow up without a father figure, like myself. You might be surprised how observant I was.
Again thank you. It is men and women like yourself that made me who I am today.
Also, you might be interested to know that my wife's father is a state trooper. His unrelenting answer on how to avoid speeding tickets is simple: Don't speed. His words have always reminded me of you and how you repeated the same thing over and over to me.
By the way did you ever marry that nice lady?
Catherine,
I know that you are proud of Rob. I am proud to call him a fellow Soldier.
Living conditions are far from home but are much better than a few short years ago.
Comment by Rich Connaroe — October 9, 2008 @ 3:00 pm