United.

I used to have the news on in the background as I would get ready in the morning.  My mom always did, and I guess I felt something nostalgic about it- like it was something you did when you’re a grownup.  However, over the past few weeks- I have really hesitated to even turn it on.  I knew it’s not going to be good.  More deaths.  More hate.  More conflicting opinions resulting in longtime friends and even family members turning against each other.  The same thing carries through onto social media.  It’s overwhelmingly dismal.  I find myself having to step back and focus on what is directly in front of me- the welcomed monotony of endlessly reminding my kids to brush their teeth (and yes, even shower) every day.  I almost welcome the chaos of getting three kids out the door, because it’s a happy stress.  Not the feeling of devastation for mankind that is coming through from the media.

Then, last week I went down to Dallas.  My publisher, Tactical 16, was sponsoring and participating in an event to raise money for The Lone Survivor Foundation.  I wasn’t sure what to expect.  I knew there would be a softball game with a mix of celebrities and veterans.  Matthew McConaughey and TobyKeith were the headliners.  I knew to bring my books.  I was armed without expectations, but knowing it had potential to be a great time.

The night before the game I was introduced to Tim Klund (the organizer of the event), Ryan Weaver, and Cristina Coria- and each of them blew me away with their amazing personal stories.  Weaver is a combat veteran, Gold Star Family member- not once- but TWICE, as he lost both his brother and brother-in-law in combat.  His journey of rising to a successful country music star is unlike any others. 

Coria is a retired veteran of the police force.  She has survived many things in her life to include tragically losing her father at the age of 12, being hit (and temporarily paralyzed) by a drunk driver, and a gunshot wound that she barely escaped with her life.  She went on to become a guest on the reality TV show Survivor. 

What captivated me the most with both of these two was their enthusiasm and kindness.  They were survivors.  They had been through the ringer.  And all they wanted to do was to help others that were going through an even more difficult time.

The next night I set up my table of books and began meeting and speaking with many of the guests in the audience.  After the game, the night continued on, and I met the players- celebrities and veterans.  The theme was resounding.  Everyone was here for a reason.  They all had stories.  They all had endured some of life’s greatest hardships, but it didn’t break them.  And they were here to make sure no one else would break.

At one point, I looked out from the top of the stadium at the audience and the players under the lights.  It was a complete rainbow.  They all stood together- black, white, Hispanic, Asian- all colors and nationalities, from all parts of the country.  Everyone had a story about how they got there.  Everyone had ties to or were there to support the military in one way or another.  The veterans weren’t in a war overseas anymore, but they were still fighting for their brothers and sisters standing next to them.  They were still fighting for the people of our country.   

The event served as a huge reminder that we were all united, simply under Red, White, and Blue.  And in a world where so many of the bad stories have become the focus, they gave me hope. 

 

The World's Largest Wild Rice Festival

Well the reunion came and went, and dare I say it was a blustering  success!  20 years of missed conversations with great people all packed into one night.  Anna and I traveled home together sans kids and husbands- something we have not done since our ten year reunion!  Who would have thought we could have the best girls weekend away in Deer River?? (This is us being mature and fun.)


Not only was it our 20^th reunion, Deer River, Minnesota also hosted it over one of the best weekends of the year:  The World’s Largest Wild Rice Festival.  What an amazing coincidence!

Yes, in Minnesota, we have festivals around our native foods!  As kids, we always looked forward to the festivities.  Surprisingly, it took me being gone for 20 years to realize what a unique privilege this little celebration was.  Where much of the year Northerners retreat to their summer cabins on the water, or hibernate during the long winter months in their warm log homes and fireplaces, this little gem of a weekend brings EVERYONE- old and young out of the woodworks.

While the Carnival rides go on for the littles Friday evening through Sunday afternoon, Bingo games sponsored by the Lions Club go on for the older folks that are feeling a little lucky.

Friday evening is kicked off by a Turtle Feed. No this is not a place where you buy food for your pet turtle.  Mr. Turtle is the main dish for this event!  (Hide your turtles, kids!)

Next, the Leech Lake Ojibwe Tribe hosts a Pow-Wow for all to celebrate and learn about their Native American culture through song, dance, and dress.  Everyone is invited to observe and even participate.

Later, the local Vets Club sponsors the Beer Garden all night- where the darkest beer you’ll find is an amber that you can still see through- which is a sin in some countries.  On the other side of the block you can find the street shut down and the dance going on both Friday and Saturday evening.  (This is Anna with her "I don't know what to do with two beers" face.)

If you’re up and at 'em early enough the next day, Saturday is kicked off by the Wild Rice Run (race) and a bike rodeo for the kids to have a chance to win a bike and enjoy some ice cream.  This is serious business for these little guys! 

Saturday is also the big day for the flea market and this isn’t just any flea market.  Here you can find some unique gifts, such as taxidermy...

 Shotguns or rifles for hunting...

And raffles that support the local high school trip to Washington DC with a chance to win a beautiful custom-designed bon fire pit.  Though I entered, I wasn't quite sure how to haul this baby home if I was lucky enough to win.

Sunday afternoon is the big parade, where you will find true hometown pride, as we salute the veterans marching with the flag.  Additionally, we pay tribute to the other hometown heroes- the volunteer fire fighters and EMT workers of Deer River and neighboring towns.

Local businesses, student clubs, and even a princess or two can be spotted riding in the floats and on top of cars. 

All will be throwing candy out into the crowds for eager little ones to come racing into the street and fill their bags- because you can still get away with this in a small town.

And this simple festival is all the town needs for an opportunity to catch up with old friends that haven't seen each other since spring thaw.  One can sit down, enjoy an indian taco with some wild rice soup and a Bud Lite.


The weekend was a whirlwind.  I left with a full belly, sleep deprived, and mentally restored.  In addition to catching up with friends, going home to Deer River reminds me to take the time to enjoy the little pleasures in life that I tend to overlook when I am rushing around to the next big thing.  And this is why I come home.

(photo credits to Anna Lise Photography)

Dear Class of 1997

Dear Class of 1997,

Can we eat nachos yet?

As I have the day off today, I am throwing random clothes into my suitcase for my long awaited trip.  (That is a lie. They're actually color-coded and rolled neatly to prevent wrinkles.)  This weekend I’ll be heading home to Minnesota for my 20^th reunion.  Only four more days! 

20 years!  How crazy is that?  What an accomplishment.  What a lifetime ago- that seems like it was just yesterday.  And when did we get... old?

I’m so beyond excited; however, I cannot help but see a few apprehensive posts and messages on Facebook in addition to the excitement.  Could it be true- that at our 38/39-year-old place in life, that we are still nervous to see the ones that saw us back when we had overall jeans and mullets?

Quick answer?  Yes.  Probably.  There is some stupid pressure that goes along with having been graduated for 20 years.  We should definitely have it all together by now, right?  We should be gently snuggled into our career field of choice, with a 401K growing ever so diligently.  We should have our debts paid off and a nice college fund saved up for each of our kids, right?  We should have our ‘forever’ home bought and at least a decade into the mortgage, right?  Student debts should all be paid off by now, degrees are all completed, and we’re living all happily ever with our significant other. Oh, and we’ve also managed to lose those 15 pounds we’ve been battling since college, or post-babies, or whatever, right?

Oh crap.  But what if we don’t?

What if we’re still trying to figure out what we want to be?  Or paying off debts, or trying to lose the weight?  Hell, I’m still fighting with pimples- and wrinkles!  What kind of an evil is that about?

 And now, we are 4 days away.  I’m thinking I’m probably not going to lose the weight or the wrinkles.  But I was able to color some of the gray out of my hair.  Because I’m sure everyone will care- because I know I’m going to be analyzing everyone else’s gray hair.  Or… not at all. 

The reality is, I’m so beyond excited to see the friends and classmates that I grew up with for 13+ years.  I cannot wait to hear their stories and what their secrets are to surviving this life.  I cannot wait to laugh at old stories, and reminisce.  I cannot wait to share a beer and sincerely just see everyone for who they really are, because there is something so unique and special about the bond that you form as kids.  There is an understanding- an unspoken knowledge of the many things that we all went through to become the adults that we have become.  They know.  They were there.

And so, four days away from my reunion, as I’m packing my suitcase, I think I’m going to enjoy a plate of nachos and a beer.  Maybe I’ll even wait until after noon.  Maybe.

And the Story Continues Here...

As my memoir has officially been released in paper/hardcover and e-books, I will wrap up this blog with a link to the book behind the blog as well as pictures from the release party.  I cannot thank everyone enough for all of the great support.  Get your copy of the story here: 

 http://amzn.com/1943226083

     I grew up in Deer River, MN - a one-stoplight town of 903 people. Two weeks after I graduated high school way back in the old days (1997) when everything was in black and white, I enlisted in the Navy in a combat aircrew position that had just been opened up to women. At first we were mistaken by tiny hairless men. Quite a few people told me I was crazy and I would be back home before I knew it. Some of the old WWII veterans patted my shoulder, and nodded, wishing me luck. My dad, fearing my safety, begged me not to go. Honestly, I had no idea what I was getting myself into - which probably was best that way. I just knew I didn’t want to fail.

     Spoiler alert - I didn’t go off and become a war hero. I didn’t save the world. I didn’t win the Noble Peace Prize or even receive the perfect attendance award (I was runner-up); however, I did serve my country, met some lifelong friends, flew over 1300 hours in a war-fighting machine, kicked some submarine ass, and learned a few lessons (the hard way). This book is a compilation of short stories and those lessons learned.

     If you are looking for Steinbeck or Dickens, you probably should put this book back on the shelf and keep looking. However, if you are looking for random entertaining stories that begin with conjunctions, contain cheesy metaphors, and improper sentence structure- well this, my friend, may be the book for you. You may laugh. You may cry. You may want to dance on a barstool next time the opportunity arises. I’m not a writer, I’m a story teller. And this is my story.

I will continue keep my site updated at www.juliamaki.com and will be available to answer questions/comments to the best of my abilities here:  capturingthestory@gmail.com

I hope it inspires, informs, and entertains you.  Always remember- there isn't anything you cannot do!  Dreams come true every day.  Who's not to say today is YOUR day?!

I have the most amazing friends!

My Mom

With Anna, my BFF

The VP-8 guys

My old SS-1 "Rugged"

With friend and fellow military blogger, Dog Tags And Heels

And don't forget- I have books for the little readers out there. 

No, not this book.

These ones:

All my best. ~J.

The E-Books Have Arrived!

The E-Books have arrived!  Well in the virtual, mystical world known simply as “Amazon.”  The paperbacks will be released January 12, 2016.  What a perfect way to bring in the new year!  

What They Don’t Teach You in Deer River is just in time to be your perfect holiday travel companion on your e-reader- for those long car rides or delayed flights.  And it is also perfect for those nights spent by the fire sipping eggnog.

My dream has come true.  I finally published my novel- and it only took me 13 years!!  So now I can officially say now that my life is literally an open book.   At least a portion of it anyways.  After reading this book you just may know way more than you ever wanted to know about me!

Ooh, and one more thing: [disclaimer] This is a book about Navy sailors.  Some words may be descriptive- and not just amazing adjectives.  (Though there are some pretty fabulous adjectives.) Some stories may involve strippers.  (But only the nice strippers, of course.)  If you are easily offended, you may want to skip this one and read the ‘G’ version:  My Mom Hunts Submarines. 

And so it goes…

I grew up in Deer River, MN- a one-stoplight town of 903 people.  Two weeks after I graduated high school  way back in the old days (1997) when everything was in black and white, I enlisted in the Navy in a combat aircrew position that had just been opened up to women.  At first we were mistaken by tiny hairless men.  Quite a few people told me I was crazy and I would be back home before I knew it.  Some of the old WWII veterans patted my shoulder, and nodded, wishing me luck.  My dad, fearing my safety, begged me not to go.  Honestly, I had no idea what I was getting myself into- which probably was best that way.  I just knew I didn’t want to fail.

Spoiler alert- I didn’t go off and become a war hero.  I didn’t save the world.  I didn’t win the Noble Peace Prize or even receive the perfect attendance award.  (I was runner-up) However; I did serve my country, met some lifelong friends, flew over 1300 hours in a war-fighting machine, kicked some submarine ass, and learned a few lessons (the hard way).  This book is a compilation of short stories and those lessons learned.

If you are looking for Steinbeck or Dickens, you probably should put this book back on the shelf and keep looking.  However, if you are looking for random entertaining stories that begin with conjunctions, contain cheesy metaphors, and improper sentence structure- well this, my friend, may be the book for you.  You may laugh.  You may cry.  You may want to dance on a barstool next time the opportunity arises.  I’m not a writer, I’m a story teller.  And this is my story.

Get your copy here:

http://smile.amazon.com/What-They-Dont-Teach-River-ebook/dp/B019EWS7LS/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1450362994&sr=8-1&keywords=julia+maki

Moose Milk

My inspiration for today comes from the link that was shared with me last night by my fellow Combat Aircrew 9 member, Deena. Somehow, through the glories above, she found the famous/infamous recipe for the Canadian’s Moose Milk. Yes, just the mention of the words Moose Milk conjures up all kinds of images. None of which, surprisingly, are moose.

The year was 2000. Location was Sigonella, Sicily. The mission: Dogfish.

Excerpt from What They Don’t Teach You in Deer River:

“To keep NATO (North American Treaty Organization) forces sharp, in 1975 they developed a joint exercise called Dogfish. Besides us representing the mighty Americans, other participants included the Canadians, French, Germans, Greeks, Italians, Dutch, Norwegians, Portuguese, Spanish, Turks, and the Brits. For almost two weeks straight, our crews worked jointly with our allies in various multi-coordinated anti-submarine warfare operations with a force of ships, submarines, and aircraft. We flew around the clock and engaged in many cat-and-mouse games that worked to improve the coordination and skills of our own military operators as well as our joint NATO force operations. It was both exhausting and a blast!

Of course, upon completion of this exercise, what were we to do but host a marvelously entertaining shindig for all of the aircrew platforms involved. Every country brought drinks and/or food representing their country. The French brought wine and cheese. The Spanish brought sangria - (nicknamed ‘the leg-spreader of the Mediterranean’) the best and most dangerous sangria I’ve tasted to date. The Germans beer and Wiener Schnitzel, and the Canadian’s brought “Moose Milk”. Not literally, as that would be weird - but it was a type of mixed drink similar to a white Russian. I can say that since the Russians weren’t there, because, well Russia always cheats at war games. Just kidding, Russia. xoxo. It was almost like a mini Epcot Center - only with war-fighters and much alcohol. Ironically, I cannot remember what we brought that year. Perhaps Cheeseburgers and Coors Lite? I seriously hope not. But clearly it wasn’t anything to write home about. Or in a book. 

The party proved to be a great time, and after a few swigs of Moose Milk, I headed over to the German table. I was so ready to impress them, so I let loose and recited the only line I could remember from taking two years of German in high school. “Darf ink zur toilette gain?” Which translates to “May I use the toilet?” At least I thought it did. That’s what our German teacher in high school taught us to say if we wanted to use the facilities. Of course that would be the only line that came to mind. The worst part was that I wasn’t even asking where the toilet was - like normal people would. I was asking them for permission. 

They all looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders and replied an apathetic, “Uh, ya...”

“Danke. Ich bin Julia.”

“Sie sind willkommen.” I quickly learned that their German was very different from the German I learned in school. Just like the time I went to a Puerto Rican wedding with my friend, Freddie. I sounded like a formal robot. Thankfully, they were quickly forgiving of my awkwardness (in both occasions), and a good beer fixed everything (again, both occasions). I learned quickly that even a poor attempt to speak another’s language is always worth the effort. Even if you mess it up - they will be grateful that you tried.

I also learned that it’s a bad idea to mix all of the drinks from all over the world. Apparently, there is a reason oceans separate some of us.”

So for your holiday party delights, the Moose Milk recipe below, found on the page: http://m.dailykos.com/story/2013/12/31/1266338/-Royal-Canadian-Air-Force-Moose-Milk-Recipe

It is New Year's Eve, so in order to assist those aviators and airport bums who enjoy entertaining at home, I present the secret recipe for the concoction known to RCAF personnel as "Moose Milk". Originally made with milk obtained from a lactating Alces alces, the practice was eventually curtailed. Too many pilots and flight crew members began attending morning "sick parades" due to a variety of "non-combat related" injuries, leaving no one to "slip the surly bonds".

RCAF MOOSE MILK

 Ingredients:
12 Egg yolks
40 Oz Canadian Whiskey
40 Oz Rum
5 Oz Kahlua
10 Oz Maple Syrup
40 Oz Milk (homogenized – don’t use skim!)
40 Oz Heavy Whipping Cream (not canned)
1 Cup Sugar

Method:
Beat yolks until fluffy and well mixed.
Add sugar and beat mixture until thick.
Stir in milk and liquor
Chill at least 3 hours. Best if can sit overnight.
Then: Whip cream until good and thick (canned whip cream will go flat, so avoid canned cream)
Fold in whipped cream (it will appear as if it has totally thinned out, but don’t worry, that is normal)
Chill for another hour.
Sprinkle the top with nutmeg and cinnamon.]
Should be kept chilled because of the raw eggs.
This should not be a problem as Moose Milk disappears quite quickly.
Should serve a crowd of fifty....
Or ten aviators.

Drink with caution.

The Photo Shoot.

There are three things in life that really bring out my awkward side. 

1.      Silence. I feel the need to fill it. 

2.      Elevator rides- usually because of the silence. 

3.      Having my picture taken.  I was not blessed with the photogenic attribute.  Not even a little.  

 

I write because I love to tell stories and I’m not a good public speaker.  I write because I’m not photogenic.  So it really threw me for a loop when I was “strongly recommend” to provide a picture and bio for my book and the publishing website.  Ugggh. 

 

I begged my sister to help me out, as she is building her photography company.  (Studio 308) We both knew it wasn’t going to be easy.  One does not simply sit for a picture, and not get awkward.  I felt the need to talk back to the camera, hoping it would project a ‘friendlier’ face.  “Hello!  Oh, I would love to have lunch with you!  Chipotle?  How did you know?  I agree, hormone-free range chicken is the way to go!”  Talking to the camera did not end up helping.  In the end, I just ended up with more awkward pictures.

 

You can imagine my relief when the idea for my book cover photo shoot this past Saturday was to be ‘shot’ from behind.  Oh thank god, we don’t have to work with my face.  Anna, my other photographer and best friend was also relieved- as she knows all too well that I am “photo-challenged.” http://annaliseriley.zenfolio.com/

 

So this past Saturday, four of my good friends that I served with in the Navy and I lined up in flight suits at parade rest.  We looked on as if we were gazing out into space at the great unknown- imagining this secret aircraft to be photo-shopped in the future as flying by.  As we stood there, it was silent.  And we were being photographed.  Naturally, I could not just stay silent.

 

“Thank you so much for coming today," I began chatting as Anna clicked on.  "I really appreciate your help on an early Saturday morning.  So how’s everything?  How are the kids?  Any plans for Halloween?  You must be retiring soon!  What are your plans after retirement?  I can’t believe it’s been that long…”  This went on and on- for as long as the photo shoot did.  Then we would move to another place to find better lighting, and the mostly one-way conversation began all over again. 

 

Finally, when it was all done, I believe everyone breathed a collective sigh of relief.  It was over.  We got the shot.  And I could finally stop talking. 

 

“Happy Halloween!!”  I called out and waved as the grown men drove away.  Yes, I’m so awkward.  But in the end, thanks to an amazing photographer, we nailed the shot.  So awkward or not, my cover for my novel is done!  Whoo-hoo!  We are so close to the final printing phase I can taste it.  And I could not be more excited and/or in disbelief that this moment is so near. 

 

I cannot release the book cover just yet, as it is not quite complete.  However I'll post my not-as-awkward photo that we ended up using for the bio.  (found at https://tactical16.com/)  I labeled it in the "Not Horrible" folder.  And thank you Liz and Anna for putting up with me always.

 

 

Photo Credits Studio 308
https://www.facebook.com/studio308photo/?fref=ts