I just got back from a trip to a foreign land with a significantly different culture than I was used to.
Due to pissing someone off at work, I got voluntold to lead a review team at Robbins AFB, GA... in August.
The team we were evaluating was very nice and let us know that they tend to dress casually, especially in August. I, unfortunately, had to tell them that our policy is that we need to wear coats and ties and even socks!
Especially since I would be working with an O6 and briefing an O7, casual attire was simply not gonna happen.
For those who may be unfamiliar with this strange land, it tends to get a bit hot and humid in August. Oh well, they ain't paying me my salary just because I look good.
The operations went smoothly, but while I was sweltering in the lovely base housing, which I was required to stay in), I had some opportunities to experience some of the local culture via the Televiewer in my room.
I saw a rather long commercial on "Miracle Water". Evidently if you send this televangelist a lot of money, he will send you tap water that will, according to testimony, make your life wonderful.
This was not the actual commercial I watched, but it is very close
There were actual people testifying that after drinking this Miracle Water that they were now drug free, stopped drinking, had their cancer cured, and a multitude of other benefits. Well they can't put anything on TV that is not true, so this must be good stuff.
At the end of the commercial was a personal message from Peter Popoff who sells this Miracle Water. If he is willing to put his personal endorsement on this product, you just know it is not a scam.
I mean, how can you not trust this face?
No way a guy like this would be involved in a scam.
No sooner than after I placed the first of many orders for Miracle Water, and upon serious consideration for also purchasing his Miracle Seeds, the commercial ended and the next program came on.
I was fortunate enough to be able to catch part of the North American Chuckwagon Race Championship. This was sponsored, of course, by the Canadian Professional Chuckwagon Association.
A confusing sport, but the announcer was acting like this was the finals of the World Cup. I wonder who won?
Strange culture down there. Natives were nice. Even the guy who "aggressively" tried to hit us up for money had some of that well known southern charm.
I wonder what other swell places they will send me.