Fact or Fiction #2 – “17, 22, 47, 8” Part 2
Monochromats can only see shades of black, gray and white. The condition is called Monochromacy.
I’m going to be a Weatherman!
MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Command) is where all recruits get processed before heading out for the most basic of military training. Tests are performed (both physical and mental) to access if an individual is capable of becoming a member of the US Military. Different careers have different requirements (again both physical and mental), and a weatherman was no exception. The final test for me was an assessment of my depth perception (I have great depth perception).
The test (as I remember it) was performed in a small, sparsely furnished examining room. There was an anatomically correct maquette of the human eye, sitting on the counter and a large black and white poster of some Popeye looking man discouraging smoking loosely hung on the back wall. I sat on the examination table while a gentleman in a white lab coat plugged in a tall (perhaps two-foot), thin (no more then three or four inches) black rectangular box in the corner of the room. At the top of this elongated box were three vertical lights, side-by-side. With a push of a button, the gentleman in the white lab coat could manipulate which light was towards the front or towards the back of the box. The test was simple; tell the man which light was farthest away. The test went something like this…
Push of button – “What color light is farthest away from you?’
“The middle one.”
Push of button – “What color now?”
“The one on the left.”
Push of button – “And what color now?”
“The middle one”
Pause… note taking… more pause … “And what color is the middle one?”
Crap… In an instant, my desired career-path vanished like virginity on prom night. I was to be a weatherman. I didn’t really know much about what a weatherman did, but the idea of getting out of the Military and getting a job at a local television station appealed to me. I could stand up there the last 5 minutes of the nightly news, wearing some ugly sports jacket and laugh at some stupid joke the Anchor would toss at me, give my witty retort and present the 7-day forecast. That was the plan… but apparently weathermen need to be able to read Doppler radar. Doppler radar from my understanding uses different colors to show rainfall and other atmospheric events that I just don’t understand… because you see - “17, 22, 47, 8” were not valid answers to the test that shortly followed - I never became a weatherman.
It was then I was introduced to the term, “The needs of the Military come first”.
Let us just say, I was particularly motivated when recruitment for the Special Forces came about – otherwise you would be calling me “Bus Driver Bob” or “Fry Cook Fred”.
While unloading crates of firearms in Nicaragua – I would reflect on what brought me here. I would look around at the trees, the blue sky and the burning sun. It’s about 103 degrees today; winds are mild from the southeast, we are looking at about 96% humidity inland. It’s going to be a hot one – so stay indoors and try to keep cool… back to you Kim.
I’m going to be a Weatherman!
MEPS (Military Entrance Processing Command) is where all recruits get processed before heading out for the most basic of military training. Tests are performed (both physical and mental) to access if an individual is capable of becoming a member of the US Military. Different careers have different requirements (again both physical and mental), and a weatherman was no exception. The final test for me was an assessment of my depth perception (I have great depth perception).
The test (as I remember it) was performed in a small, sparsely furnished examining room. There was an anatomically correct maquette of the human eye, sitting on the counter and a large black and white poster of some Popeye looking man discouraging smoking loosely hung on the back wall. I sat on the examination table while a gentleman in a white lab coat plugged in a tall (perhaps two-foot), thin (no more then three or four inches) black rectangular box in the corner of the room. At the top of this elongated box were three vertical lights, side-by-side. With a push of a button, the gentleman in the white lab coat could manipulate which light was towards the front or towards the back of the box. The test was simple; tell the man which light was farthest away. The test went something like this…
Push of button – “What color light is farthest away from you?’
“The middle one.”
Push of button – “What color now?”
“The one on the left.”
Push of button – “And what color now?”
“The middle one”
Pause… note taking… more pause … “And what color is the middle one?”
Crap… In an instant, my desired career-path vanished like virginity on prom night. I was to be a weatherman. I didn’t really know much about what a weatherman did, but the idea of getting out of the Military and getting a job at a local television station appealed to me. I could stand up there the last 5 minutes of the nightly news, wearing some ugly sports jacket and laugh at some stupid joke the Anchor would toss at me, give my witty retort and present the 7-day forecast. That was the plan… but apparently weathermen need to be able to read Doppler radar. Doppler radar from my understanding uses different colors to show rainfall and other atmospheric events that I just don’t understand… because you see - “17, 22, 47, 8” were not valid answers to the test that shortly followed - I never became a weatherman.
It was then I was introduced to the term, “The needs of the Military come first”.
Let us just say, I was particularly motivated when recruitment for the Special Forces came about – otherwise you would be calling me “Bus Driver Bob” or “Fry Cook Fred”.
While unloading crates of firearms in Nicaragua – I would reflect on what brought me here. I would look around at the trees, the blue sky and the burning sun. It’s about 103 degrees today; winds are mild from the southeast, we are looking at about 96% humidity inland. It’s going to be a hot one – so stay indoors and try to keep cool… back to you Kim.
posted by Survival Cookies at 7:56 AM
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