By lex, on August 29th, 2011
So, after yesterday’s screed against the media elites, your host traveled first to Venice Beach with his youngest daughter and only wife, on account of the former hadn’t been and the latter wanted to have a look at Teh Crazy. From thence we had planned to navigate via the beautiful Pacific Coast Highway to Santa Barbara, where the latter hopes to attend college school.
We took the new ride up the coast, the ancient BMW having been successfully sold. It was a ret pleasant trip, at least so far as Venice Beach, which quite lived up to its reputation. The Kat was unimpressed, while the Hobbit – an inveterate people watcher – was fascinated. For my own part, I felt more than a little out of place, the demographic consisting largely of 20-somethings with dreadlocked hair in various stages of deshabille, and pervy 60-somethings watching with creepy vigilance. Lunch and gone, and wouldn’t the PCH be a blast?
By lex, on June 20th, 2010
So, not to toast to one’s own and that, but happy father’s day to those in the audience that had the audacity to collaborate in the act of procreation (a trivial task in itself, a labor of love, really) but only to the extent that it enables you to be an actual, you know: father. Which is a great deal more than just making contributions to the gene pool’s complexity.
Card’s there will be, and “what would you like to do’s?”, but I don’t know that I myself can – at this stage of my fatherhood – know whether or not I’ve been worth a damn at it, take things as a whole. Spent an awful lot of time away on the briny back during the formational, so all the good things – and there are many – in my lovely brood I attribute to the Hobbit’s good sense and where there are flaws (however trifling) I tend to hold myself accountable.
By lex, on May 1st, 2010
It’s been dern hectic at work and at home over the last several. As is the custom, I arise fairly early, quick scan the headlines and throw something up in this space to keep the plates spinning ’til I get home around supper time. A wee bit of a promotion at work added some overhead to the daily routine, that and the two new hats I’m wearing. Finally found a candidate to wear the old one though, so hopefully things will become a bit more sane in the not too distant.
Burdens too on the domestic side, if only at a distance. Son Number One has been on a bit of an emotional roller coaster down in Pensacola. He successfully vaulted the first of many hurdles months ago, the grueling physical examination given by the Naval Aero-Medical Institute – NAMI – back in November. The “NAMI Whammy” has broken many a young man’s heart, for while it is the duty of the squadron flight surgeon to keep you flying safely if every you might, NAMI’s purpose – or at least it seems that way – is to do their best to ensure that you never come near a set of flight controls, if ever a reason can be found. Your squadron flight doc supports – NAMI screens.
By lex, on January 9th, 2010
We’ve been here in Sandy Eggo now for, what? Almost nine years. Which is three times longer than we’d ever lived anywhere else. Kids have grown up here, gone away to school. It all seems so unreal, after 20-odd years of living as gypsies. But it still feels like somewhere we live, not somewhere we’re from.
By lex, on April 7th, 2009
We’re back, we’re safe, we’re smoked.
Woke up yesterday, got breakfast at a nice cafe, visited the aquarium. Which you really orta do, if you get ’round Monterey. Tell ‘em you’re retired Navy and you get a $10 discount on the admission ticket.
It reads, “Disabled.”
A short flight to Oakland from Monterey. Up the coast and over the top of San Francisco International. Like it didn’t matter. On the way across the bay a 747 carrying God knows how many paying passengers was held down at 3000 feet until they passed us by. Didn’t seem fair. But it did seem right.
We were there first.
By lex, on April 6th, 2009
An eager drive down to Montgomery, filled with no small amount of trepidation. Have I planned properly? What don’t I know that I ought? Will she get frightened? Sick?
All these doubts I kept to myself – we were going, and it’s no use scaring the pax.
Herself saw the airplane and must have blanched a bit, at least on the inside if such a thing is possible. If you’ve never flown in anything smaller than an Embraer, the Cessna Skyhawk is an unprepossessing vehicle even when new, but a 1978 172N will also have a “patina of use” to go with its diminutive stature. People have been flying them about the country since shortly after the Wright brothers got some air at Kitty Hawk, though, and it did have dual comm/nav and distance measuring equipment.