CRAIG'S LIST CREEPERS

So I had this China cabinet for sale on Craig's List this past spring. I get a phone call from a lady in my town who wants to buy it. But she wants if for half price.

Me, "Sorry, I can't do that."

Her, "But my husband just left me."

Me, "Mmm. I'm sorry."

Her, "He took every last thing I had. Including my China cabinet. It was handed down to me by my mother. Your's looks just like it." Oh, crap.

Me, "Mmm, I'm sorry. I can't let it got for half."

Her, "It reminds me of my mother."

Me, "Mmm, I'll take off a quarter of the price?"

Her, "He took all of my money."

Me, "Well, my China cabinet is special to me, too. Sorry."

Those of you who frequently sell items on Craig's List know what I mean about these kinds of conversations. I don't like having to ferret out who is really down on their luck, who is really a victim, or who is really too incompetent to execute a minor business transaction. I'm on Craig's List to make money. Not to make friends. Not to counsel. Not to be a "blessing."

But you can't avoid these kinds of conversations if you allow others to contact you through email or phone (even though you ask people to text). I've collected an assortment of strange, "textual" conversations from Craig's List Creepers. 

Craig's List Creepers are people who shop on Craig's List under the guise of buying but end up conversing without a sale. I have recorded a few below (Keep in mind that I live in Tennessee. All mispellings and grammatical flaws are "as is" in the texts I received):

Craig's List Creeper, "Trade?"

Me, "Trade what items?"

Craig's List Creeper,"What d0 you have texted several ads"

Craig's List Creeper, "Is it a 360"

Me, "What?"

(That was fruitless. Here is another):

Craig's List Creeper, "Will u give me the dimensions please?"

Me, "Of?"

Craig's List Creeper, "Dimension of the end pieces."

Me, "I have a credenza and armoire for sale, but I don't believe I have any end pieces."

Craig's List Creeper, "I thought u had an entertainment ceter"

Me, "Ok, That's the armoire you are talking about. Indonesian wood?"

Craig's List Creeper, "I have lost my mind it is the credenza that I want the measurements on"

Me, "Ok.Well, it is about 5 feet long and almost two feet wide."

Craig's List Creeper, "Sorry 2 wide thanks"

(Understandable. Here is another):

Craig's List Creeper, "Does the ak47 airsoft come with a battery? And how many FPS does it shoot? I am seriously interested LUCKIESS GUY EVER"

Me, "Yes, it does come with a battery. I am not sure the FPS, but I am certain it is well over 300."

Craig's List Creeper, "Does the airsoft ak work good and is it full metal (except the wooden part of course) $nake in the Gra$$"

Me, "Yes."

Craig's List Creeper, "And how much do you want for just tha ak+ accessories and clips? i dont want the flags or the mini guns $nake in the Gra$$"

Me, "$150."

Craig's List Creeper, "Good. my sons bday is may 28 and he wants a new ak. let me think about it. i will get back in touch $nake in the Gra$$"

(I don't know if he changed personas throughout the conversation, but I am certain I was speaking with the same person. Who wanted a customized, Ak-47 with an actual wooden Ak gun stock. For his son.): 

Craigs List Creeper, "I am very interested in your credenza if you still have it. Thanks"

Me, "Yes."

Craigs List Creeper, "I am in a meeting right now. I will call asap. Thanks"

Craig's List Creeper, "Do you know how long it is? Is it cherry finish? I am going to send you a picture of my desk and see if you think it matches. I live 2 hrs away, but I will take it if it matches."

Me, "Yes, it is a cherry. It looks like a match."

Craig's List Creeper, "Great. Would Wednesday afternoon work for me to come and pick it up? What would be a good time? I can put an address in my GPS."

Craig's List Creeper, "Did u get my message about tomorrow?"

Me, "Yes. That will work. The address is (my address). Let's make it for 3:30."

Craig's List Creeper, "Can u measure how long it is? I am hoping to be able to drive my car and not my husbands truck."

Me, "72x20x30 (inches). I am not certain it will fit in a car. You might want to bring the truck."

Craig's List Creeper, "Thanks!"

Me, "You are welcome. Feel free to pick up tomorrow or Friday."

Craig's List Creeper, "Sorry I haven't got back with u sooner. We r still without power and my phone has been dead. I have had family members injured and some with homes destroyed. I would love to have the credenza, just not sure how soon I can get there. If u need to sell it, I understand. Thanks."

(We had a series of tornadoes throughout the span of this conversation, and Alabama was hit badly. She still seemed interested in the credenza, and I had the sneaking suspicion she might still be wanting it. For free. Here's another one on the Ak-47):

Craig's List Creeper, "Do you still have your air soft guns
Jake"

Me, "I have my AK."

Craig's List Creeper, "How much Jake"

Me, "$150 for AK, scope, and six or so clips."

Craig's List Creeper, "Can you send pic Jake"

Me, "Battery too."

Craig's List Creeper, "How much you want Jake"

Me, "$150 for AK, scope, and six or so clips."

Craig's List Creeper, "How much you want Jake"

Me, "$150 for AK, scope, and six or so clips."

Craig's List Creeper, "Where do you like at Jake"

Me, "Are you interested in buying it?"

Craig's List Creeper, "Cash or trade Jake"

Me, "Cash."

Craig's List Creeper, "Where do you live Jake"

Craig's List Creeper, "I want it Jake"

Me, "Can you come get it on Saturday morning?"

Craig's List Creeper, "Where em you live Jake"

Me, "I'm with the Marines in Parris Island until late tomorrow night. I will give you my house number when I get back."

Me, "Still interested in the AK47."

Craig's List Creeper, "Yes where do you live at
Jake"

Me, "I live in Franklin. Let me know a time when you are ready to see it and I will give you my address."

Craig's List Creeper, "Could you meet me Jake"

Craig's List Creeper, "Could you meet me somewhere.
An work just text Jake"

Me, "I can meet you today if you can't drop by. Just let me know where."

Craig's List Creeper, "Huh Jake"

Me, "To see the AK 47. If you can meet today I will send you my address if that works better. Just let me know."

Craig's List Creeper, "Can we meet Jake"

Me, "Sure. You let me know when."

(Jake must have had mental problems. I don't know why he had a phone).

Through texts like these, I soon lost my long-sufferingedness and resorted to "Yes", "No", or a simple "Item has been sold" to avoid superfluous details of unnecessary, short-lived relationships with people whose motives I could only scrutinize by spelling and grammar. My inbox is full of the ambiguous intentions of people who say they want to buy but who end up having short conversations with me like we dated before. 

Every once in a while, however, it is not necessary to scrutinize the meaning of a text.

Yeah, pervert.

THE MAKING OF A MARINE: THE POMO & FINAL THOUGHTS

I heard it said more than once on Parris Island that the men and women who have become Marines since 9/11 are the best they have ever had. Of course, each generation of Marines has arisen to the combat challenges in which it found itself. In that sense, all United States Marines at any given time in history are the "best."

However, if you take into consideration traits of the current generation I lovingly call POMOS, the fact that POMO Marines are unequaled can hardly be debated.

The man below is the curator of the Parris Island Museum. His name is Aulton Kohn. He is in his 60's. Oh, crap, what a fuzzy picture. I'm seriously in need of the 4g.

Mr. Kohn was a Marine Private First Class in Vietnam on patrol when his unit of 38 soldiers was decimated, leaving only him and another soldier alive.

Both of them had to survive in enemy territory for over 50 days before they were rescued. These men are great. Aulton is a great man. These men are heroes.

Consider that we are at the apex of cultural tolerance where civil rights are pretty much guaranteed for any and everyone. For the person or group who does not have his civil rights recognized, there is pretty much a 100% chance he can secure those.

Like many African-American men, Aulton Kohn found the military a proving ground where he could distinguish his humanity through acts bravery and service. Like many African-American men, I am sure he thought such distinction might help better his status in the civilian world.

POMOS don't necessarily need to join the Marines to prove themselves to others. They do not need to go into the military to prove that their race, their ethnicity, their "group" is human and equal to others in deeds of courage. 

POMOS don't necessarily join the Marines to merely make mom and dad proud. Joining any military branch would make patriotic parents proud, because all branches contribute to the safety and welfare of our national security. Who wouldn't be proud?

POMOS don't necessarily join the Marines for "fun." I am not sure I know anybody who has joined the military for fun. For adventure maybe, but for fun I am not so sure.

POMOS are a cultural group of post-moderns who exhibit a unique baseline of behavioral traits like absurdity, suspicion of logical reliability, the re-enchantment of nature, a cynical aspiration to reason, vulgarity as a valid language, and experimental verification. Outside the military the POMO has his pick of alternative realities to pursue, his own customized illusion.

That is why I agree with the sentiment that this generation of U.S. Marines is the best. POMOS don't have to join the Marines. POMOS join the Marines because the Marines provides the POMO a position of consequence. The Marines afford him clarity for illusion, accountability for personal preference, solidarity for individualism.

Every obeyed or disobeyed order has a distinct consequence that ripples up and down the ranks to both extreme ends. Every manned or unmanned gun means something more or less to the whole. The fine integration of U.S.M.C. doctrine and protocol exhibits the integrated machinations of natural law. 

The POMO finds himself in touch with the world, and that is the first time for many of them. It is an awful and strange and beautiful place for that brotherhood of 214,000. The world starts clicking into place. The things learned in school start making sense. The U.S.M.C. affords many POMOS the opportunity to be born again.

THE MAKING OF A MARINE: GRADUATION

I was so taken by the graduation that I did not get many photos. Here is the bugler who started the pre-graduation festivities. It was here that several people were recognized. First of all were the DI's who served as far back as Vietnam and before that even. Sorry, I thought I had a photo.

Second of all was this dear, old man, Mr. Jack Tramiel. Mr. Tramiel is a Polish Holocaust survivor. His entire family, other than his wife, was killed in Auschwitz (I am not sure whether or not he married her after the war). 

He eventually made his way to America where he eventually became the founder of COMMODORE, yes, the company who invented the Commodore 64 home computer. He later, as CEO, acquired ATARI. He eventually retired. I sat near him. He was so freaking patriotic, singing the THE STAR-SPANGLED BANNER in his old voice while they raised the flag over Paris Island. You can't beat those old immigrants. Mr. Tramiel is in the front row with the baseball cap on. Sorry so blurry. I need to get the Iphone 4.

Ah, we got to see Hummer, Parris Island's mascot, up close. Hummer is an English Bulldog. They said that their mascots actually enter basic training, too.

The following is a group I mistakenly thought was graduating. I was a little disillusioned at first, because they kept looking at the crowd, swaying on their feet, and appearing to be distracted. I learned that they were JROTC from the local high schools. I was relieved to learn that.

They had the Parris Island band play several patriotic selections. Amazing band. We watched them raise the flag which was seriously large enough to drape over and cover a small plane. I could not help but to get really sober (without tearing up, but close). Every Marine who has died, has come from East Coast Parris Island or West Coast Camp Pendleton.

We later went over to the where the formal graduation and parade of the recruits (204, I believe, in all) graduated. Wow is all I can say. Those boys... those men... were sharp.

THE MAKING OF A MARINE: CONFIDENCE COURSE

The Marines have a series of obstacles they have recruits master called the "Confidence Course." These obstacles are physically challenging to the individual recruit and mentally challenging to corporate groups of recruits.

Our guide was probably five feet two inches tall and built like a brick wall. Our DI introduced him as the Parris Island weight-lifting champion in his weight division.

They let us try some of the obstacles if we wanted. The obstacles started off relatively easy.

The dude above on the wall is a former Marine and works for a Huntsville-based paper. He was hilarious. We talked about the "Bed-intruder" incident & he claimed that his paper did not pick up the story because they knew it was a scam. It was a set-up, he said. The "hero" actually ended up in jail the week before our trip. 

 They wouldn't let us do this one. If the recruit fell, he had to wade out in waist-deep water.

I was so intrigued with the slide for life that I forgot to take a picture of it in action.

I forget what this was.

 This was a complicated inclined p-bar obstacle where you had to exclusively use your arms (no legs at all).

The following obstacle demanded that you advance the obstacle going over one log and under another.

Each of the obstacles emphasized personal coordination and corporate coordination. While a few of them looked easy enough, consider that these are exercises, that if duplicated in combat, become extremely difficult to accomplish.

 The classic monkey bars.

The female recruits were close by, preparing to pugil stick fight each other.

 The wall climb was rather tall. I am not sure if this obstacle required somebody help you over the wall.

The sky scraper required that three people advance, two people at any given time on one stage. I loved the brilliance behind this. It meant that if two people were above you and you were the one below, they had to wait for you or help you onto their platform before one of them could advance to the next stage. If you were the one above and there were two people below, you had to wait for both to advance before you went to the next stage. The Marines reinforce this kind of "buddy" system at every phase in recruit training. It is about the man to the right and left of you.

Our instructor was a hoss.

The pugil stick fighting was towards the end of the Confidence Course (You can see the female recruits in the background preparing to fight).

This was an interesting obstacle. Two recruits had to advance at the same time. Once they got from the second to the top. One of the recruits says "I go, you stay." The other recruit responds "I stay, you go." The Marines call this "accountability": a reciprocal understanding of an order with an acknowledgement of that order.

 Ah, if it works during war, it must work during peace.

THE MAKING OF A MARINE: "SNAPPING IN"

The Marines refer to any sort of practice as "snapping in." Being a division of the Navy, much of their terminology comes from the parts of a ship. After a day or two, much of this language became clear to me. Here are a few examples:

A "deck" is the floor, so "Clear the deck" made sense. "Overhead" was the ceiling. A "ladder" is the stairs. "Topside" is upstairs.

A "bulkhead" is the wall (At times recruits are expected to put their heels against the wall as a spatial measurement. We were made to do this at the swimming pool).

A "hatch" is a door. Everywhere we went on the bus, a chosen one of us were made to stand by the bus "hatch" and count every person who came aboard the bus.  A "porthole" is a window (and also describes a pair of glasses). The DI would criticize the person standing out of formation by calling him a "porthole." I am not sure what that meant except to say that he was "getting in the way."

A "head" is the toilet and a "head call" is using the toilet. We were made to "hydrate" ourselves constantly by sipping water. I was surprised at how many opportunities the DI gave us to use the restroom at least once every half hour it seemed. I was also surprised at how often we needed to use it.

A "squad bay" is a barracks. We were allowed entry into the female barracks where we observed their "racks" (beds) with the neatly made hospital corners.

Oh, yes, and food is always "chow."