This weekend, I was temporarily assigned to a mobile unit that was setting up shop here– they’d asked for a number of local volunteers to fill slots they needed to conduct operations, and I volunteered.

The weekend started on Friday, with checking in- getting my identity verified, being issued a uniform, discussing access procedures, and being briefed by various officers. Among the highlights of the briefings was what to check for regarding the firearms and weapons we’d see people carrying the next day.

After being assigned to triage and meeting our person in charge, my team took a tour of where we’d be working, reviewed the paperwork we’d need to deal with, and reviewed procedures for other mission essentials such as getting chow/coffee in the morning before operations began.

“Triage” on Saturday was just what it sounds like. After waiting in line for a while, someone would see a generalist who would assign them one or more categories of specialists that they’d see next. My team’s mission was to get those people from the triage area into the line for the first specialist they’d need to see. From there, another team would get them in to the specialist, and point them to the next specialist. This went on from 0615, when we reported for chow, to about 1830, when the last of the line had been processed through triage. (We did get a break for chow at lunchtime. Meatloaf, mac n’ cheese, veggies– yummy goodness.)

Disaster? Casualties? Drill weekend? Deployment?

Nope. I was volunteering at a taping of the PBS show Antiques Roadshow.

The line of people, of course, was people who had brought in items from home to be appraised. They’d gotten tickets through a lottery, months ago. Once they were in line, they saw a general appraiser who assigned their items categories such as “Collectibles” or “Folk Art”. Those of us working triage (actual name) took them along with their items to the areas they’d been assigned, and dropped them off at the appropriate place on the set. (Which was more complicated than it sounds.)

Along the way, we talked– about where people were from, what they’d brought, how cool it was to actually be on the set of a show they watched every week for years. I met people from Wisconsin, Michigan, Illinois, Iowa, Indiana, and even someone who had flown in from New York.

I met a few veterans, some veterans of WWII, Korea, and Vietnam. I met a few more sons, daughters, and grandsons and granddaughters of veterans who had brought stuff in that had made it home years ago. I saw rifles, shotguns, pistols, bayonets, swords, medals, decorations, and uniforms.

I saw a hockey stick autographed by members of the 1977 Wisconsin Badgers men’s hockey team.

I helped a Packer fan find her sister, a Minnesota Gopher fan, after they’d been separated among the lines for different categories.

I also saw paintings, prints, dolls, furniture, quilts, rugs, toys, tools, and more just plain stuff than I can ever hope to list. Every thing had a story and a reason for being there. Every thing that someone brought in to be appraised represented some part of life for someone.

The “unit” was the traveling crew of Antiques Roadshow, plus the local staff from WHA, plus all of us volunteers. Once you add in appraisers (who are beyond being just “specialists”, local law enforcement, catering, facilities and security people, you have what looks (and feels) a lot like a military unit. Okay, we didn’t have PT and haircuts to worry about, but we certainly did have a mission to accomplish.

I imagine that most people would not equate taping Antiques Roadshow with a military operation, but I saw parallels all day. Working with dedicated people, doing something for other people, helping preserve something important, getting the job done– those are things that, to me, felt a lot like the good things about military service.

Oh, and I got a really cool Antiques Roadshow polo shirt.

I survived another semester at MATC, ringing up Trigonometry and Spanish I. I’m sure I slept at some point between January and May, but between classes and work I’d be hard pressed to tell you exactly when it happened. Next up: Spanish II and Calculus I in fall.

I volunteered at the WHA-TV Auction again this year as a bid sorter and bid runner– and found myself (willingly) drafted into being a board captain on the last day of the auction. If you were watching during the hours before Showcase on 1 June, you might have seen me writing bids on the C board.

Memorial Day started with me marching with the Black Knights Color Guard in the Monona Memorial Day Parade, followed by post chaplain duties for services at several local cemeteries. I was also granted the honor of reading the opening and closing prayers at U. S. Army Cpl. Rachael Hugo’s reinterment ceremony at Roselawn Cemetery in Madison. (I’ve started, and not finished, several posts about Memorial Day 2008– the entire day, especially Cpl. Hugo’s reinterment ceremony, was an emotional experience– so much that I’m at a loss for words. I’m just sincerely honored that I was able to participate.)

I have not been in the gym as much as I’ve needed to be since final exams, mainly because I was just plain exhausted for a while after the semester was over. I did buy a new mountain bike that I’ve been riding around the neighborhood, and I’ve also been out doing things like climbing rocks and kayaking this summer. Who says you can’t teach an old dog new tricks?

I just returned from 11 days in Costa Rica (map); I was there for a friend’s wedding, plus some very much needed rest and relaxation. The map link points to the house we stayed in (the elbow shaped building NNE from the satellite dish), at Tarbaca outside of San Jose. I had a great time… although today I’m still recovering from the trip, so more details and pictures to follow.

And there you have it.