FIELD JOURNAL – ENTRY #46150

Date: Irrelevant. Time blurs when you’re chasing tone.

Since the dawn of warfare, symbols have rallied warriors. For AMMO, it’s the flaming bomb—nicknamed the “piss pot,” a slang twist on “pitch pot,” roadside lamps of old. Its lineage runs deep: from stone projectiles to French grenades, to the grenadier insignia carried across European armies, and finally adopted by the U.S. in the 1700s. Officially recognized in 1833 by the Ordnance Corps, it showed up on uniforms from the Alamo through WWII—even worn by Women Ordnance Workers. Though no longer standard Air Force issue, AMMO troops still fly it proudly, tying today’s weapons handlers to two millennia of warriors.

I joined that lineage in 1990. Survived Basic, earned my AMMO stripes, and spent a decade in the Florida ANG’s 125th Fighter Wing, building and maintaining air-to-air missile systems. IYAAYAS.

When I hung up the uniform, I swapped bombs for bytes—leading software and data teams in the civilian world. But the through-line has always been guitars, circuits, and tone. Thirty-five years of soldering, gigging, breaking, fixing, and chasing sound—whether in bars, garages, or one-off bands that lived for a single weekend.

This isn’t a hobby. It’s a mission.

Objective: Build it better. Play it louder. Chase the sound in your head.
If it sounds good—it is good.

End of entry.