I completed four operational flying assignments as a pilot in the United States Air Force. My career, with its balance of operational and staff assignments, was more or less typical for USAF pilots of my generation. What was different … and I’m sure it was nothing more than happenstance … is that the flying squadrons my family and I called home were not only low-numbered ones, but came in ascending numerical order: from the 8th Flying Training Squadron to the 32nd Tactical Fighter Squadron, then on to the 43rd TFS and finally the 44th TFS. How many USAF veterans can say that?
It’s been a couple of years since the Southwest Woodfords have assembled in one place. But family gatherings are what Thanksgiving’s for—at least that’s what it’s come to mean for many American families, ours included. Not only are we together, we even proved we can hold still long enough for a group photo.
I don’t know if Trump will resign (even if he’s impeached, he certainly won’t be convicted, so giving up à la Nixon is the best we can hope for), but if he does we’ll have Pence, and if Pence has his way we’ll have Gilead. Atwood is a timely read, to say the least.
The salesman told Donna not only will we not have to rinse dishes before putting them in the new unit, we shouldn’t, because the dishwasher it’s to work best with dirty dishes. Uh-huh. Tell me another one, appliance salesman.
I know from Facebook that many of my friends are also members of local and neighborhood book clubs, and it gives me hope. We are smarter and more intellectually curious than you might assume from the crap we normally post on social media. Now if we can just get off our asses and vote, eh?
Fighters don’t carry a lot of fuel, and what they carry they burn at a great rate.
I was going to write a Veterans Day post but settled for a couple of short entries on Facebook and Instagram, along with some photos of combat veteran aircraft from the air museum. Writing about my own service seems, I don’t know, self-serving? Like I’m asking for a pat on the back? For doing something I loved doing?
When I stress, it’s usually over trivial problems. Something’s not working, but there’s gotta be an easy fix … except I don’t know what it is and will have to figure it out on my own.