So, here I am locked up in a small outpost in the middle of the Indian country. You spend day after day seeing the same faces, talking to the same people, doing the same mundane things. For most soldiers deployments are nothing but a necessary evil, it is just what you have to do, and you try to do it without getting killed. I used to think like that too, that is how I did my first two deployments. However, being an entrepreneur just adds another level of excitement to any deployment. It makes it that much more fun. This is why I brought my T-Shirt making equipment and supplies with me to combat. While others might view our outpost as a boring place with absolutely nothing to do, I see it as a virgin market ready to be penetrated. Within no time I captured 100% of the apparel market share here through the growth strategies of market and product development. My last initiative was especially successful. I launched a call to action that I named “Suits for Vets” and a new line of T-shirts to support that action. The profits from the sales of these T-shirts were to be donated entirely to the noble cause of purchasing custom made suits for the retiring veteran-entrepreneurs like myself. It wasn’t until recently that I realized that I’ve always been an entrepreneur, except that 22 years of following orders, inside-the-box thinking, and strict adherence to the doctrine, manuals, and the military way of life suppressed the entrepreneurial spirit inside me. It wasn’t always like this. I actually started my first small business at the boot camp, twenty one years ago. Soon after recovering from the initial shock of arriving at the infantry basic training in Fort Benning, Georgia, I realized that entered a market ripe with opportunities. Having learned my lessons from the failed rat farming business I decided to be more deliberate with how I was to conquer this market. I first decided to build a personal brand of “Ski” as a go to guy before offering paid service. You see, a recruit in today’s military is not allowed to possess any sort of sharp objects. I guess some smart person in charge decided that recruits who are entrusted with live ammunition are not to be entrusted with sharp objects. The problem is that the recruits constantly need something cut, severed, or abraded, and without sharp objects it is really hard to accomplish. Anyone who ever tried chewing through the parachute cord will have to agree with me. This is when I came out with the brilliant idea of sharpening one of my dog tags on the concrete wash sink in our laundry room. I was able to give my dog tag a razor sharp edge, and the beauty of wearing a razor sharp dog tag around your neck was that no drill sergeant would ever suspect such a thing during the surprise health and welfare inspections; therefore my precious blade was safe from the dangers of confiscation. My popularity in the platoon surged. I was the only guy to go to if something needed to be cut, severed or abraded. Then I started a boot shining service. I was able to shine boots faster and better than anyone in the platoon, so I put my skills to good use. I would take other people’s night time fireguard duty for money, and use that time to shine boots of my clients, also for money. I think that this practice is called double dipping. My prices were very reasonable, but soon I was making nearly as much money shining boots as what the government was paying for my service. Life was good. Unfortunately my economic activity came to an abrupt halt. My body decided that it wants to make up for the lost sleep in the most unfortunate times throughout the day, and I would catch a lot of hell from the drill sergeants. Putting Tabasco sauce on your eyeball can to stay awake can only get you so far. One time a drill sergeant walked up on me in the middle of the night during a peak demand for my services; I sat there in the middle of the bay, with a flashlight and all these boots to shine while every other recruit was fast asleep. Needless to say that drill sergeant did not appreciate my entrepreneurial spirit and got really upset. He started yelling at everyone that it is just wrong to make the only non-citizen shine everyone’s boots. The platoon ended up doing extra physical training that day. Training consisted of push-ups, flutter kicks, mule kicks and hello dollies. I thought that experience had killed the entrepreneur in me. Turns out the entrepreneurial skills die hard. I am actually looking forward towards my retirement. I also made this video last night for your enjoyment. I titled it “How to make combat shirts in combat environment”. youtu.be/kHPMSgCdzQg Word of the Day abrade \uh-BREYD\, verb: 1. To scrape off. 2. To wear off or down by scraping or rubbing. The cuff digs into Landsmans wrist, sharp enough to abrade the flesh. -- Michael Chabon, The Yiddish Policemens Union He was shorter than Lloyd but heavier in the chest, a wiry-limbed man with bristling dark hair and a quick harsh laugh and a way of crinkling his face so you knew he would say something to abrade your skin like sandpaper. -- Joyce Carol Oates, High Lonesome Related to abrasion, abrade is from the Latin roots ab meaning “away from” and rādere meaning “to scrape.”
Posted on: Thu, 28 Aug 2014 14:27:56 +0000
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