Wordless Wednesday - Cheyenne, Wyoming 8/1/1985

Writer's Island - Flight - 4/12/08

The Writer's Island prompt this week was flight. This is what came to my disheveled mind:

Having spent 20 years in the Air Force it is obvious that I have done my share of flying. Though I was never a pilot or on a flight crew I have logged countless hours on both military transports and commercial planes. I used to enjoy flying until the douche bags of 9/11 ruined it forever for me (and many others). Gone are the days of arriving at the airport 20 minutes before boarding. Now we must arrive two hours prior to the scheduled departure (which is never actual) and endure a screening process as if we were attempting to enter the Lincoln bedroom. I am not complaining. I want my flight to be safe and have an absolute minimum of terrorists on board with me. So, I endorse the inconvenience.


When I was young, married, and broke, living in Denver in the early 70s, Stapleton International Airport was a source of entertainment for my wife and me. We would go sit in the arrival/departure lounge and watch people come and go. We would make up stories about people we observed. The airport was the best place to people watch. Sometimes we would play spy at the airport and try to pick out which of the travelers were CIA or KGB. We would even bring our own refreshments because airport prices were not much different then than they are now. A hotdog and a coke required a cosigner. Again, the assholes of 9/11 have made that activity impossible, as you can’t even enter the gate area without a ticket.



One of the benefits of military service is that you could fly anywhere in the world that the Air Force does for free. This program was called Space-A. We took advantage of that privilege many times. Sometimes we would just go to the terminal and fly to whatever destination was readily available. That was an adventure sometimes, as you could not always get back from that country in a timely manner. For instance, I have flown from England to Greece and had to fly from there to Germany in order to get back to England. It was also possible that the plane would not bring you back to the same base you departed from so you might have to arrange ground transportation from one base in England to another. But that only added to the adventure. So traveling space available required patience and plenty of time. Though I still have that perk, I have not tried to fly this way since the shitheads of 9/11 have probably screwed that up too. I am certain that a lot of flights are now destined for locations I have no interest in visiting.

One anecdote that came to mind while I was writing this post was a military Space-A flight my kids and I took from Germany to the states. The only other passengers on the plane were federal prisoners being transported to the maximum penitentiary at Leavenworth Kansas. The prisoners were held in stockades in Europe until they get enough to full a C-141 transport. The terminal staff informed me that this was the only flight available for the rest of the week and we could take it as long as I knew the situation. There were several armed guards accompanying the hundred or so prisoners and many of them were so after conferring with my kids I accepted the risk involved. We were given specific instructions and assurances of our safety with regards to the inmates. We were not to talk to them, accept or give anything to them, and other common sense warnings. It was very much like the movie Con Air except that flight had no families on it. Oh yeah, and ours did not crash. What I didn’t realize though was that FAA regulations in those days required all prisoners be unshackled and the guards could not have access to firearms during the flight. Military personnel are armed in the cockpit, but those were the only weapons allowed. So we were flying with a hundred or so prisoners who could at any time attempt to take control of the aircraft. Well, they never did, though I kept a watchful eye (not sure why) until we arrived safely without incident.

Another time we were flying in a KC-10 tanker plane. A couple of hours into the flight, a crewmember came up to my son, Josh, and asked him if he wanted to see something cool. He, of course, wanted to see something cool. Doesn’t everyone? He was escorted back to the rear of the plane where he got to witness the refueling of a flight of F-16 fighters. He was close enough to be nearly face-to-face with the pilots. They showed him in detail how to link up with the fighter and start the flow of fuel. Not every kid gets to see that.


We have also been on a plane that’s engine caught fire, flew through a spectacular but terrifying lightening storm, and have diverted to locations that were not on the flight plan.


Yes, flying was an adventure before the whoresons of 9/11 ruined it for me (and others).

Sunday Scribblings - Fearless - 4/13/08

The prompt "fearless" immediately brought two names to my weary mind, neither of which were Myrtle Beached Whale. I am the polar opposite of fearless. I am afraid of spiders, snakes, clowns, mimes, heights, women with tattoos, badgers, poop, any word ending in noma, dentists, meteorites, herpes, and shopping.

The first person that personifies fearless to me is General Chuck Yeager. In World War II, by the age of 22, he had shot down 11 German aircraft and had been shot down himself over France. He evaded capture, found his way back to England and flew more combat missions.

He actually had to bail out of an aircraft on two separate occasions.

That would be quite enough flying for most pilots. Not for Chuck, though. He became a test pilot after the war.

What a test pilot essentially does is attempt to fly an aircraft that no one really knows for sure will actually fly. Theoretically, it is supposed to fly. So was the Spruce Goose.

He was the first man to break the sound barrier. He was a test pilot for 13 years, during which he flew 330 different aircraft and flew faster and higher than any pilot had ever flown. He then flew combat missions in Viet Nam. He retired from the Air Force in 1975, after 34 years. Now for the amazing part: In 2007, at the age of 84, when most people are driving 45 on the Interstate, indicating an intention to turn left for 30 miles, and eating dinner at 4 PM, General Yeager piloted an Air Force F-16 through the sound barrier. This was to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the first time he did it.

This is a truly fearless man. I had the pleasure of meeting him some years ago.

The other person that immediately came to mind was the late Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter. Here is Steve Irwin in a nutshell: (Imagine an Australian accent. I am doing one now in my head): “Look at this beauty. This is the most deadly poisonous snake in the world. I am going to tease him until he is forced to bite me in the face.

Then I am going to ride this 15-foot croc down the river so I can better observe his death roll.“

Since his untimely death there have been several poor imitations of him, but there will only ever be one Crocodile Hunter.

He honestly did love those deadly reptiles. With all the amazing adventures he had, it is ironic that he would be killed by one of the most docile creatures in the sea.

Many who read this will call both of these individuals not fearless, but crazy. I agree. I don’t think any rational person can be totally fearless. Oh yeah, almost forgot. I am also afraid of bees and fire ants.

55 Flash Fiction Friday - 4/11/08

The challenge is to tell a story using only 55 Words.


First day of school. Third grade teacher, Mrs. Johnson sat at her desk fretting over the class roster. As the clock inched towards roll call, she realized she had no chance of pronouncing more than a handful correctly: Jaanai, Faizah, Eliyahu, T'ien-Khuan. Oh how she longed for the good old days of Davids and Susans.

The most amazing thing I have ever seen

You may have seen this but I had not and my jaw is still on the floor.

15 Words Or Less Poems - 4/10/08

Laura provided the following prompt:

At the end of spring break, I took the girls to the Mall of America to meet friends. We spent lots of time in the theme park, which just reopened as Nickelodeon Universe. This pic is of Maddie and me (you can tell, right?) on one of the new roller coasters.

What does this image remind you of? Do you love or despise coasters? Can you feel the motion? Does this bring back any childhood memories?

Pick any thought and quickly write a 15 Words or Less poem. Put it in a comment and I'll post it tomorrow. Check out the guidelines link in the sidebar if you've never played before, and, most importantly, have fun!


It elicited the following childhood memory:

Greasy corndogs
Tilt-a-whirl
Stomach churning
Gonna hurl
Round and round
Spewing on a pretty girl

Thursday 13 - Television Characters - 4/10/08

Thirteen of my favorite television characters of all-time. As you can see, some entries list two characters that are inseparable. As always it was hard to limit it to 13, but these are the first that came to my fragmented mind. They are in no particular order:

1. Greg House

2. Al Bundy

3. Chandler Bing/Joey Tribbiani

4. Cosmo Kramer/George Costanza





5. Frasier/Niles Crane

6. Hawkeye Pierce

7. Tony Soprano

8. Barney Fife

9. Andy Sipowicz

10. Tommy Gavin

11. Ed Norton/Ralph Kramden

12. David Addison

13. Any character played by Jerry Stiller

Due to the limits placed on me by the rule of 13 I limited this to American television. If I had included British television, I would have added Basil Fawlty/Manuel




and Edmund Blackadder/Baldrick:

Wordless Wednesday - 4/9/08

Three Word Wednesday - Theatre Funny Remember - 4/9/08

Today's Three Word Wednesday prompts are theatre, funny, and remember. The first thing that comes to my fragmented mind is:

I was born about the time that Network Television broadcasts reached the wilds of Northern Idaho. Like most of you, except those of you who are Bushmen of the Kalahari, I have always had television in my life. As an only child, TV was my companion, and through the years has enriched my life like nothing else. Though sometimes we had one set with sound and another with picture and some winters there was more snow on the screen than on the ground, my family loved TV.

I remember my dad climbing up on the roof to move the antenna around while he and my mom yelled back and forth like some kind of long-range eye test “Is that better?” “What about now?”

I have had aluminum foil enriched rabbit ears. Now, I get upset when I can’t find the remote control.

When I was a kid, the most hilarious man on television was Red Skeleton. He was the Robin Williams of that era. His mind worked at a breakneck speed. His show was pure theatre. It was live. Though later it was taped, there were no retakes. All the mistakes were broadcast. He would laugh at his own jokes, crack up his guest stars, talk to the audience in the middle of a sketch, and sometimes say things that were not acceptable for 1950’s television. He was a clown by trade and though I despise and fear clowns, he was endearing. He transformed himself into many wonderful characters including: a Hobo Freddie the Freeloader, Junior the Mean Widdle Kid, country bumpkin Clem Kadiddlehopper, Sheriff Deadeye, boxer Cauliflower McPugg, drunkard Willy Lump-Lump, and con man San Fernando Red. Johnny Carson got his start as a writer for the show. The Rolling Stones made their first American appearance on the Red Skeleton show in 1965. Red was so funny that his audience was recorded and turned into the laugh tracks that are still heard on sitcoms.

One of Red’s many talents was pantomime. He was a master. Sometimes Marcel Marceau, the world’s most famous mime would appear with him. Though I despise and fear mimes, the two of them together was magic.

Like so many talented people, there was nothing funny about Red’s private life. He suffered from alcoholism, several marriages, the death of his son, fights with networks/writers, and political turmoil. Through it all, he was America’s number 1 clown until his death in 1997.

He always ended each broadcast in much the same way. I will end this blog by letting Red speak for both of us:


“I personally believe that we were put here to build and not to destroy. So if by chance some day you’re not feeling well and you should remember some silly little thing I’ve said or done and it brings back a smile to your face or a chuckle to your heart – then my purpose has been fulfilled. Goodnight and may God bless.” Red Skelton

What the Hell is This?

I know many of you enjoy baking. Have you ever seen so many ingredients in a simple 3.5 OZ dessert? Can you tell what it is by this list?

Sunday Scribblings - The Photograph - 4/6/08

This photo is one that I have never shared with anyone before. I took it of an extraterrestrial being that landed near my home some time ago. I am thinking that the reason the photo seems so abstract is that the creature was not a solid form like we are. He appeared to be composed of an ever-changing almost molten material. His extremities expanded somewhat like Inspector Gadget. He communicated with me by a series of clicking sounds, groans, and something close to flatulence. We used hand signals to communicate and I taught him that the middle finger was a sign of respect and should be used whenever encountering one of our politicians. “Take me to your leader” indeed. He did not appear hostile but I did not turn my back to him, fearing the obligatory anal probe these guys are so famous for. His odor was roughly that of a freshly washed dog being dried by a kerosene lamp. In contrast to other accounts of ETs being green or gray in color, he was almost colorless, leading me to believe that the climate on his home planet is somewhat like that of England. He wore no clothing and did not seem ashamed of his extremely small genitalia, much like the pants less Donald Duck. His fingers were extremely long and his feet huge, exposing that myth. His ridiculously long neck and huge head revealed that his world had very little gravity. The gravitational pull of earth caused him to continuously fall down resulting in uproarious laughter from me. I thought out loud that his God must have a lot better sense of humor than ours. If he took offense to my ridicule, he could do nothing about it as it took his full concentration to remain balanced and upright. He looked to be hungry and thirsty. Through hand signals I determined that to be the case. I held up a finger (not the middle one) in the universal symbol for “wait just a second” and went inside and produced a liter bottle of Patron Tequila and a jar of Habanera Peppers. He poured the contents of both into the toothless hole that served as his mouth. He immediately turned bright red and his eyes doubled in size and intensity. He failed in his ongoing battle to remain ambulatory and after spewing the contents of his stomach, including some curious matter other than Agava and peppers, he crawled back to his craft and made a very hasty and awkward departure. I don’t think he will be back. I did not report the incident until now. I am sure I can trust you all to not be skeptical.

OK, the few of you that read this far will be rewarded with the actual subject of this picture. Recently, we had a total lunar eclipse. I stood on my balcony and attempted to photograph the event. I used the night setting and did not have a tripod, so this is one of the early shots that my unsteady hands produced. Some of the subsequent photos came out better as I found a way to brace myself against the railing.