To be clear, these are not my words. Read on for the source.
For those of you unfamiliar with my professional path outside of the words on this blog, I have prioritized educating, training, and inspiring future leaders of America over Bourbon & Battles for the last year. I break that silence today for some reflection inspired by a single written comment from a student.
To get to know my newest group of students last week, I asked each of them to fill out a bio card. One of the pieces of information I asked for: favorite book. I mostly wanted to see what authors and titles inspired this cohort—military history and more military history abound, as did some classics, and more than one mention of 1984. Shamelessly, I also wanted to see if I could use their recommendations to add some more tomes to my “to-read” list. Turns out, I did.
But to my instant consternation, I received this answer on one bio card: “I do not read recreationally.”
It has been an eventful summer at Bourbon & Battles Headquarters (by which I mean my house). I finished my first year of grad school, completed an 11-week summer internship in San Francisco, suffered through a nasty case of Hand, Foot, and Mouth Disease, and found out my wife was pregnant with our fourth (and final) child, this time a son. He will be woefully outnumbered—though I suspect well taken care of—by three older sisters.
It dawned on me pretty early in the summer that my super-long commute to the city afforded me a new and rare opportunity for long periods of uninterrupted reading time. That in mind, I set out to take full advantage before the crushing weight of required textbook reading returned in the fall. I generally took care to choose highly rated or recommended books to get the most bang for my time, so my summer was jam-packed with an extraordinary reading selection. Continue reading B&B Summer Reading List 2016→
The gathered staff stands to attention from their seats as the Battalion Executive Officer enters the conference room.
“Take your seats,” she says, making her way to the head of the table. Arrayed around the room and now sitting back in their swivel chairs are the various leaders of the battalion’s staff sections and special staff. That includes me, the Battalion S1. I’m the personnel officer for the battalion, sometimes called the Adjutant, which is a title that refers primarily to my traditional ceremonial duties.
“Alright put your AR glasses on, and let’s get this started,” the XO clips. The staff complies, each member donning their pair of translucent augmented reality holo-glasses. I do the same. Within my field of vision, a PowerPoint slide titled “Staff Huddle” fades in.