Hurricane Shane

This is the existing passenger terminal here at Osan. Lloyd's squadron operates it, but it's not part of his department. Earlier in the summer they had a work party to put up the sandbags. They do this every year in preparation for monsoon season, to keep the water out of the terminal. So far, monsoon season has been a disappointing yawner, but the terminal just suffered a direct hit from Hurricane Shane, and it will probably never be the same.

Yesterday we were all invited to the terminal for a squadron lunch. We scrambled over the three-foot high sandbag wall and Weston and Shane headed straight for the Doritos. Weston was also very excited about the prospect of eating hot dogs. He is always interested in eating something he's never had before, and when Lloyd mentions hot dogs he always makes it sound like a real treat, using the super enthusiastic voice I reserve for broccoli and organic tofu.

We had a nice lunch, and the boys had fun being fawned over by the Korean ladies. I was having a nice chat when I heard a shockingly loud noise, followed by explosive laughter. Lloyd had been holding Shane, talking to his boss, when Shane unleashed holy hell in the form of what appeared to be quarts of orange-flecked cottage cheese. Lloyd's flight suit and boots were drenched, and it flowed across the floor. And then he did it again. I had no idea you could fit that much puke into one small human. While I was staring at Shane, slack-jawed in wonder and awe, Weston dug into the hot dog pan with both hands.

What would you do? We ran. Ran like the wind with chunky Dorito-flavored milk splashing behind us and hot dogs falling out of our pockets, like a demented Hansel and Gretel. I think the sandbag wall held back the stinking, glistening tide, but I didn't look back. Lucky for all of us, the Corps of Engineers is working on a new terminal. Entirely coincidental, I assure you.