By lex, on January 1st, 2011
To each and every.
The perceptive reader will have noticed a certain lack of density round these here parts over the last cuppla, and perhaps a certain lack of gravitas. It’s my sincere hope that the most of yez are using some class of RSS reader to find out when there’s something novel to scan, for I dread that the regulars come back on their own any number of times on a day like yesterday. Each to their own, of course.
So: It’s not you, it’s me.
On November 9, 2006
Let’s talk about me.
I’m half-way to 92 today, Constant Reader, this being the anniversary of my coming into this veil of tears a-hollering and a-squirming, like. I was a joy I’m sure to my sainted ma, God rest her and keep her close, although I’m not sure she was all that verklempt to see me at the moment of my emergence given that she’d been at a cocktail party when the water broke, and, having had a pair of martinis with which to celebrate my imminent debut upon a soon-to-be amazed world – a habit then as kosher as it is today trayf – was denied the ne plus ultra of natal care in the day, to wit: the opportunity to be reduced to open-mouthed, snoring insouciance during junior’s arrival by the liberal application of narcotic anesthetics. So, a “natural” child birth was to be our conjoined fate, and the word itself in scare quotes since the idea had long been out of favor with the fairer sex by the 9th of November, 1960 and was not to emerge as preferred – dare I say: Mandatory? – option until sometime in the hazy future.
By lex, on December 18th, 2011
So, corporate HQ is making a worldwide tour of company deployment sites, in concert with holiday parties and presents to exceptional employees and such. Your host had wild notions of maybe renting a Cessna 172 for to transport his bride and hisself unto Camarillo, renting a car, dining with the co-workers and spending the night. ‘Twas to be a brave notion of demonstrating the subtleties of navigating the Los Angeles Class B airspace using a tower-to-tower clearance maybe, but Gaia gets her vote: A forty knot windshear was forecast at 1500 feet at the time of his arrival, which made the notion of lowering a mere toy like the Skyhawk – which crosses the fence at maybe 80 knots – problematical. Then there were clouds, rain and the undesirable prospect of carrying some icing.
By lex, on December 16th, 2011
Over at the Danger Room, David Axe is making noise ** about the USAF’s official investigation into the loss of an F-22A Raptor and its pilot up in Alaska in November 2010:
By lex, on October 28th, 2009
The story of the 15-year old Richmond High School raped and assaulted for two and a half hours behind her school gym – at homecoming! – by multiple assailants while dozens more looked on and did nothing causes the mind to reel in shock and dismay.
Who could do such a thing? How could this happen?
By lex, on April 14th, 2011
Confused about what your military is doing in Libya?
You have your reasons**:
When I arrived at Wurtsmith AFB on December 8, 1978, I remember expecting a crack bomber unit embodying steely-eyed discipline, Spanish Inquisition-level devotion to regulations, and a certain sunglasses-silk-scarf-and-grin panache that would indeed tell you that you were an elite, entrusted with the Nation’s Survival In It’s Darkest Hour.
Filed under Air Force, Life