Blind Pirates Gallery
Operation Perk Up Patrick
Operation Perk Up Patrick was a collaborative bi-coastal effort to bring a smile to the face of Staff Sergeant Select Patrick Thomas. (Also known as my little brother, Pit Pat.) Patrick is a pararescueman (PJ) in the Air Force and is currently deployed.
As any friend or family member of a deployed serviceman (or woman) will tell you, there is a sense of complete helplessness that overwhelms you when they deploy. It’s not just the worrying about their safety, their physical and mental well being. It’s the knowledge that there is very little you can do to help them get through periods of deployment. Sure, our family sends letters and care packages. (My mom sends enough care packages that she is on a first name basis with the post office.) Even doing all that, it never feels like enough. What else can you do really? Short of flying over there and smuggling yourself onto the base- (which believe me if I could, I probably would,) this is it.
Before he deployed, my parents went out to Florida to visit with him. While they were there they met his girlfriend, Anne. My parents later observed that Anne was quite mature for her 20 years of age, and quite obviously a warm, and genuine young woman. As it turns out, her brother is also a PJ. (Keep in mind there are only approximately 300 active PJ’s). There was an instant bond knowing that both of our brothers were the nutty, type-a go-getter, personalities. We spoke a few times on the phone, which lead to adding each other on facebook and the occasional text exchange. When Patrick deployed, our exchanges became more frequent and less superficial. Before you knew it, we had struck up a modern, virtual, version of a pen pal relationship. It wasn’t long after Patrick deployed that the emails, texts, and conversation evolved from the “how’s your weather?” to more meaningful, emotional conversations that typically require years of friendship to solidify. It was comforting to talk to someone who loves him as much as I do. Someone who also knew what it was like to worry about her brother’s safety while deployed. While I was not able to talk to Patrick as much as I would like, I was at least able to talk to her and that in itself made me feel connected to him.
One evening we were having a text exchange about how hard this must be for him, and how lonely she was feeling. Jokingly, I suggested that she print out a giant, life-sized cardboard cutout. (Like the ones you see for movie promotions and the such.) It was like a light bulb went on in both of our heads, as it dawned on us, what an awesome idea this was. We could print out a life sized Patrick, take it all over the place, put him in funny situations and take pictures of it all to send to him! Instantly we began to scheme. Could this work? How would we do this? Do we print two? One for her in Florida and one here in California? Can we even get these cardboard cutouts?! We soon found out that we could in fact get this printed, and the brainstorming REALLY began. Think of all the possibilities… Patrick and Anne on a tandem bike. Patrick in confession. Patrick watching “Murder She Wrote”. We literally had hundreds of scenarios. It occurred to me that the best way to do this was to do this together. The 3,000 mile difference between Anne and I was daunting. Not sure if she would think I was a little off my rocker, (which admittedly I am), I decided to invite her out to California for a weekend of photos with cardboard Patrick.
Long story short, (too late), a month and a half later Anne was on a flight out to California. Armed with my shockingly life-like cardboard brother, my mom and I headed out to the airport to pick up Anne.
What struck me immediately as I carried my doppelganger brother through the airport, were the reactions we were getting. People were curious but smiling. They would catch my eye inquisitively, with bemused expressions on their faces. To the people that asked, we told them what we were doing. When we did tell them, it was like the flood gates opened. What poured out from that was totally unexpected. They all wanted to talk about it, be part of it, touch the cardboard cutout, take pictures with it. I guess I expected people to think it was silly at best, and downright odd and inappropriate at its worst. It never occurred to me that even people that may not have a family member in the service would feel so strongly, and so positively about our little project. Over the course of the next few days, people went out of their way to help us get the pictures we wanted. It was truly a high. I felt so connected and appreciative to all those people who were now part of this experience. I will always remember those moments and feel eternal gratitude to those otherwise random strangers.
During the three days of picture taking, my mom and Anne were excellent sports. They displayed their excellent sense of humor; and their willingness to try any shot or scenario was awesome. Special thanks also to my dad, who not only participated in the photo shoot, but also provided emergency reconstruction of the cardboard cutout when we had worn it so down, it refused to stand.
The following shots, are not pieces of fine art by any means. To me they are a testament to the feeling of community that happened that weekend. I mean, I’m me, Anne is Anne, and you are you- and when we told you about this project, you were suddenly involved and we were all connected. You just can’t beat that.
As any friend or family member of a deployed serviceman (or woman) will tell you, there is a sense of complete helplessness that overwhelms you when they deploy. It’s not just the worrying about their safety, their physical and mental well being. It’s the knowledge that there is very little you can do to help them get through periods of deployment. Sure, our family sends letters and care packages. (My mom sends enough care packages that she is on a first name basis with the post office.) Even doing all that, it never feels like enough. What else can you do really? Short of flying over there and smuggling yourself onto the base- (which believe me if I could, I probably would,) this is it.
Before he deployed, my parents went out to Florida to visit with him. While they were there they met his girlfriend, Anne. My parents later observed that Anne was quite mature for her 20 years of age, and quite obviously a warm, and genuine young woman. As it turns out, her brother is also a PJ. (Keep in mind there are only approximately 300 active PJ’s). There was an instant bond knowing that both of our brothers were the nutty, type-a go-getter, personalities. We spoke a few times on the phone, which lead to adding each other on facebook and the occasional text exchange. When Patrick deployed, our exchanges became more frequent and less superficial. Before you knew it, we had struck up a modern, virtual, version of a pen pal relationship. It wasn’t long after Patrick deployed that the emails, texts, and conversation evolved from the “how’s your weather?” to more meaningful, emotional conversations that typically require years of friendship to solidify. It was comforting to talk to someone who loves him as much as I do. Someone who also knew what it was like to worry about her brother’s safety while deployed. While I was not able to talk to Patrick as much as I would like, I was at least able to talk to her and that in itself made me feel connected to him.
One evening we were having a text exchange about how hard this must be for him, and how lonely she was feeling. Jokingly, I suggested that she print out a giant, life-sized cardboard cutout. (Like the ones you see for movie promotions and the such.) It was like a light bulb went on in both of our heads, as it dawned on us, what an awesome idea this was. We could print out a life sized Patrick, take it all over the place, put him in funny situations and take pictures of it all to send to him! Instantly we began to scheme. Could this work? How would we do this? Do we print two? One for her in Florida and one here in California? Can we even get these cardboard cutouts?! We soon found out that we could in fact get this printed, and the brainstorming REALLY began. Think of all the possibilities… Patrick and Anne on a tandem bike. Patrick in confession. Patrick watching “Murder She Wrote”. We literally had hundreds of scenarios. It occurred to me that the best way to do this was to do this together. The 3,000 mile difference between Anne and I was daunting. Not sure if she would think I was a little off my rocker, (which admittedly I am), I decided to invite her out to California for a weekend of photos with cardboard Patrick.
Long story short, (too late), a month and a half later Anne was on a flight out to California. Armed with my shockingly life-like cardboard brother, my mom and I headed out to the airport to pick up Anne.
What struck me immediately as I carried my doppelganger brother through the airport, were the reactions we were getting. People were curious but smiling. They would catch my eye inquisitively, with bemused expressions on their faces. To the people that asked, we told them what we were doing. When we did tell them, it was like the flood gates opened. What poured out from that was totally unexpected. They all wanted to talk about it, be part of it, touch the cardboard cutout, take pictures with it. I guess I expected people to think it was silly at best, and downright odd and inappropriate at its worst. It never occurred to me that even people that may not have a family member in the service would feel so strongly, and so positively about our little project. Over the course of the next few days, people went out of their way to help us get the pictures we wanted. It was truly a high. I felt so connected and appreciative to all those people who were now part of this experience. I will always remember those moments and feel eternal gratitude to those otherwise random strangers.
During the three days of picture taking, my mom and Anne were excellent sports. They displayed their excellent sense of humor; and their willingness to try any shot or scenario was awesome. Special thanks also to my dad, who not only participated in the photo shoot, but also provided emergency reconstruction of the cardboard cutout when we had worn it so down, it refused to stand.
The following shots, are not pieces of fine art by any means. To me they are a testament to the feeling of community that happened that weekend. I mean, I’m me, Anne is Anne, and you are you- and when we told you about this project, you were suddenly involved and we were all connected. You just can’t beat that.
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