Category Archives: Family

Happy Thanksgiving

By lex, on November 24th, 2011

The Virginia country ham arrived two days ago, and for a while there I feared for his prospects of making it to the table this evening. Salt-cured, so you’ve got to slice paper thin, but oh-so-good on a sweet potato biscuit. Not really a part of the real meal, but as an appetizer, oof. The Hobbit has been cooking down the cranberries for quite some while. And the turkey arrived right on schedule, unfrozen and patently unpardoned.

There are various efforts left before us, but the house still sleeps and we are more or less intact. Kids these days – there, I said it – get the whole week off for Thanksgiving, and I am not yet sufficiently curmudgeoned to resent it.

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The Things You See

By lex, on November 22nd, 2011

Son Number One is back in Sandy Eggo, for to share the upcoming Thanksgiving festivities – my favorite holiday – with his clan. He went hence from Chez Lex to the local Flight Standards District Office, having completed his military competency test, to receive his civil ratings: Commercial & Instrument; Single Engine Land/Rotary Wing. Which is one more rating than I’ll ever get. Old dogs and new tricks, and those things go down. They go down. It’s the complexity in it.

A flight school classmate from Whiting Field joined him there at Montgomery Field. The FSDO at Pensacola apparently charges $90 for providing naval aviators their civilian ratings, which is odd for a government servant on full-time salary, whose paid work it is to service the certification requirements of airmen. I get that an FAA-certified examiner, who is not a government employee, charges for his time. I do not grok a civil servant playing the fiddle on the backs of recently winged naval aviators.

But anyway.

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This Post Contains No Content

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?

It wouldn’t.

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By lex, on March 3rd, 2011

Having reached the experience level to do so, Son Number One selected helicopters as his first choice on his preference card, and – having won his first choice – will be heading back to Pensacola for to learn how to fly whirly-gigs. Had the grades to do whatever he wanted, and what he wanted was to learn how to do summat his dear ol’ da cannot: Hover.

Them egg beaters are dangerous, I warned, for they are chiefly constructed of lowest bidder parts whirling in violent opposition one to another. Not to mention the landing in absurdly small places on wee, bitty ships that heave, roll and yaw like drunken sailors in Hong Kong, which is one thing when you’re in Hong Kong and another thing entirely when you’re trying to place the rubber down between the cross-hairs. I need not belabor the categorical absence of ejection seats, which no one has the least need of until they do, at which time the need is turrible acute.

Rubbish, said he, for he was not afraid and he’d kind of like to give beating the air into submission the old college try. If only for the challenge that was in it. Not to mention the potential to while away his off-duty hours in Sandy Eggo rather than Lemoore, the dreary pain and suffering of it.

Good on ya’, I said for every man has to choose his own way through this life, and the important thing is to put yourself in the position to do what you want to do.

Which he did, so it’s proud of him I am, proud to bursting.

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Fadder’s Day 2010

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.

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Easing Sheets

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.

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The Itch

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.

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