I have this OCD when I'm walking down a sidewalk I cannot stand to cross the joint between two sections of concrete with a different foot than the previous sections. Must have consistency!
When I drive I do all that I can to avoid the manhole covers. If you've ever hit a dislodged lid you know the reason why.
Since my town's streets are a patchwork quilt of haphazard updates and repairs the placement of manholes are all over the place. Many of the older ones have sunken several inches and can wreak havoc on a cars suspension. Consequently I can look like a drunk driver as I wiggle-waggle down the way. I actually got pulled over once on suspicion of DUI. The cop asked the typical questions but was satisfied (with some eyeroll) when I told him I was just avoiding the lids.
Who says OCD can't be controlled?!
Who says OCD is always a bad thing?
After I reported to USS
Nassau (LHA 4) in '91 I tended to be a bit OCD on things like having my guys "secure for sea." This means everything movable either be nailed down, taped down, screwed down, locked up, locked away or otherwise put away so it can't go flying around and bust something or someone when the ship starts rocking and rolling.
The ship was about the size of an
Essex class fleet carrier of WWII, 820 feet long, 40,000 tons, flat bottomed and usually only rolled 5 to 7 degrees even in a Cape Hatteras gale. You might spill some coffee if you overfilled your cup, but ... my previous ship was a destroyer, and they can get a bit lively in weather. The
Nassau has a full length flightdeck with island superstructure like a carrier.
I carried on with my obsession, and being one of the senior petty officer's in the division my word carried weight so my guys did what they were told, grumbling and complaining the whole time as sailors are wont to do.
Then one night ...
It was about 2 AM on a mid-February morning, I was on watch in the Intel Center and our battle group had just headed North through the Denmark Strait and was headed east across the Arctic Ocean above Iceland in hurricane force winds, 30 to 40 foot seas and temperatures that were colder than a landlord's heart when we were hit by TWO rogue waves estimated at 60 feet one right after the other.
The first smashed into our bows, smashing out the 6 deadlights (port holes) right below the bow end of the flight deck 40 feet above the normal waterline with the wave continuing aft and hitting the island hard enough for me to feel it shake. Just a couple of minutes later we got hit in the stern by the second which dished in the hull plating a good 6 inches, damaged an aircraft elevator, jammed the stern bay doors and provided a trough that we rolled into. Rolled a good 36 degrees in a ship not designed for it.
40 degrees might have seen the island break off and I'd be writing this from Davy Jones' Locker.
All over the ship men were tossed from their bunks, loose equipment flew out of cabinets or off table tops. All together, out of 1800 sailors and Marines aboard we had several dozen injuries, many from flying gear. In my center my OCD paid off, no injuries and only 1 computer slid off a table to smash on the deck. It had been tied down but not well enough. That and 3 or 4 coffee cups were the only damage we took.
See, OCD isn't all bad.
