Details...

So today I read "One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovitch" by Alexander Solzhenitsyn
...and I don't have anything to say about those names. Ivan is beginning his ninth year of imprisonment with hard labor on the steppes of Siberia. It's a good one day -- as good as you could hope for in the circumstances and a good enough book to keep me happy for a day.
This was my first Russian literature experience in a while and, well, yeah. It was an experience. (sheesh. I'm sorry, I just can't seem to do any better than that today.)
Those crazy Russians what with the intensity and the details and everything mattering to the characters. Are there people out there who are actually that bloody involved in the endless minutia of their everyday lives? It's certainly appealing (and I think that's why I crave combat so much -- in that context everything matters.) Probably one of the secrets to happiness too. I don't even know how I would begin, though, to care that much about myself and my life. Maybe I'm just lazy because it's never actually been that hard.
Anyway, that all gets depressing and spirals into uselessness so before it takes over my train of thought I'm going to share one little experience of mine that all this reminded me of. (ok, "of which all this reminded me." Go to hell.)
After one of our jumps in airborne school when we were shaking out the 'chutes I happened to be next to a Marine. He was one of the few Marines in my class, very young, and airborne was the last school he had to complete on his way to being Force Recon. (for all you damn civilians out there that's the Marines' special ops unit. Among America's five most elite fighting forces.) Our task was a very simple one. The parachutes were hanging from the ceiling of a tall room where they had been left for a couple of hours to dry. We had to guide them and the parachute cord into a bag without getting anything tangled while removing any preexisting tangles, twigs, leaves or other debris. Simple, as I said, but not exactly boring. None of us had done this too many times before and we had plenty on our minds in the circumstances. My high speed Marine neighbor didn't just take it as a mindless task to get over with and get back to the stuff that was worth his time though. He challenged me to race and see who could get his 'chute packed away more quickly. I won the first time. He said that was ok, he had his system down now. He won the second time, but it didn't matter. He wasn't lying. He had found his way of working quickly, doing it right and got the job done as efficiently as possible. Basicly, he cared. I don't really know anything else about this hardcore motherfucker personally. We never really talked. I won't see him again and if I did I surely wouldn't recognize him. Just going off of that one evening though, I'd say he's probably a damn good Marine. Probably living not too many miles from me right now.
So I dont know if I got anything across with all that. I kinda wish I hadn't tried but I'm not going back now. After all, I did restrain myself from promising to post once in a while. I guess that I was just trying to say that when you're in a more or less shitty situation, keeping your mind off things can get you by, it really can. Putting your mind into your work and your life though, is always going to make you stronger and happier.