Three Point Landing (Re-post)

For some reason, my thoughts wandered to my brothers. I have one left, and two that moved on. 

Through all that life brought, my brothers, and I, stayed close. We'd help each other, when we could, and always found the moments we had together as treasures. A cold beer, a pleasant afternoon, and time slipped away before we realized it was gone. 

Time has slipped away forever for two brothers. I have only memories and they never seem to be enough. 

I wrote the following somewhere right after I started my blog. When I read it again, I'm reminded of a special evening, a brilliant orange sky, and the sound of car tires sizzling on hot wet pavement. 

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Years ago, all the little corner stores had section of toys. There were slingshots, crummy plastic gizmos and the best: balsa wood airplanes. The balsa airplanes were somewhat of a treasure. They usually didn't last long and were easily broken. If not lost in a tree, a neighborhood dog could destroy one in an instant.

There were two types of balsa wood airplanes: the glider, which was fairly simple and the rubber band powered glider with wheels. Both were inexpensive by today's standards, but at that time, they were a sizable expenditure for our young minds to consider. The glider meant finding five coke bottles; the powered version required thirteen, which could mean days of looking and not buying a Frosty root beer and a Zero candy bar. When the long barefoot walk down hot asphalt streets was added, the airplanes required measured thought before purchasing.

Late one evening, after a strong summer thunderstorm, my brother and I ventured out front to survey the aftermath. It was a perfect evening. The damp streets were still running water at the curbs. The trees dripped in the completely still air. Traffic was light and my brother knew it was the best opportunity to fly his balsa wood airplane.

He brought his plane to the street, wound the rubber band and let it fly.  It made a short loop through the steam that rose from the street and crashed in a neighbor's yard. He did this a few more times and then had an idea: Wind the rubber band almost to the breaking point and see if the plane would take off. He tried his idea and it worked.

The light was fading and the brilliant orange of the dissipating clouds signaled that our evening was almost over. Soon we would have to go in. My brother wound his airplane extra tight to make one last significant flight. He carefully placed the plane on the ground, adjusted the tail fins just a tad, and let go of the propeller. After a few moments on the ground, the plane took off, made three lazy circles over the street, and made a perfect three point landing.

We both stood in silence for a moment. We had just witnessed an unforgettable moment in time. I don't remember what he said when he spoke, but it was pure joy. He couldn't believe what we just witnessed, and neither could I. He had to try again. He did, but his effort was in vain. I don't think he ever managed another three point landing, until he was getting his pilot license.

That was over forty years ago. A lot happened since that time and I'll never be able to share that moment with my brother again. He's gone, so I decided to share it with you.

So, You Want a Tan?

I had a relatively small basil cell carcinoma removed from my face today. I don't actually know how large, and really won't know the damage, until Saturday morning, when I'm to remove the bandage, apply the proper ointment, and cover the numerous stitches again.

If anyone in you family likes to tan, discourage them as often as you can. Spending time in the sun leads to all types of crappy things, and I've enclosed a photo to help with your discouraging.

I'm lucky; at least for now. My mother died from Melanoma, and it wasn't a pleasant way to go.

Ignorant Driving

We have a local shopping area, which is about a mile of strip malls, a Super Walmart, a Lowe's, Academy, Office Depot and numerous other businesses, including restaurants. There are around ten driveways into the long series of businesses. They all connect to a common drive running the entire length and connecting to a crossroad.

Entry from one direction on the adjacent highway requires exiting, looping around under an underpass, and merging with access road traffic. It's a fairly easy task, and if you can't immediately turn in the first drive, you can accelerate, stay in the left lane, wait for the almost insured break in traffic, and use one farther down...if you're not an ignorant/dumbass driver.

This afternoon, I watched a driver tie up the loop around, while waiting to cross two lanes of traffic to use the first drive. When I finally eased out into traffic, which blocked one lane, they continued to wait, until they could cut into the other lane and take the first entrance.

The driver was holding up their hands in exasperation, as they waited for their chance. My mind was reeling from their ignorance; and the choice words I used would have melted the brass on a retired sailor's medals.

Some people don't need to drive. They can, and will, kill people due to their ignorance. They're like the old man that backed up an exit ramp, which caused a truck driver to lose control, and drive off an overpass. He was crushed to death by his load; the old man drove away and witnesses didn't get a plate number.

Anonymity Forever (Re-post)

It's been around a year, since I posted this the first time. Since I haven't been writing much, I thought I'd post it again. 

Enjoy

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As Tia walked into the large park, she was reminded of how much she loved late Spring. The foliage was full, lilies were in full bloom and the cool morning air was exhilarating. Taking a deep breath, she relished the moment and continued on with her task.

She was a little apprehensive, since she didn’t know who she was going to meet, but she knew the park was usually full of people and she’d probably be safe.

As she continued around a short bend in the sidewalk, she found she could observe the central area, with the benches and – hopefully – the man she was supposed to meet.

He was there; sitting by the large oak, which he described. At that distance, she could only start observing the man. Slowing her steps, she decided to take her time and cautiously approach.

As she walked, she thought of the short note she received from the man the day before. She wasn’t startled by receiving something written on paper, since many had now abandoned electronic communications. They, like her, liked their privacy and felt all the laws now in place didn’t do enough to prevent eavesdropping.

Tia was successful, but she still found her success surprising. Ten years before, she would have never envisioned her life at this moment.

Fresh out of college, with her journalism degree, she’d worked at a few news outlets; only to find the work mind numbing.  Sensationalism was more important than full stories, which was typical for most news, but not what she wanted to do.

Blessed with an old printing shop, which was an inheritance from her grandfather, she started spending evenings, and weekends printing a small flyer, which she’d leave in public places for free.

Over a short period of time, she found the flyers were disappearing faster than she could put them out. At first, she thought they were just being thrown away, until a local shop owner asked to advertise. Surprised, she offered a few free ads, which led the shop owner to asking for rates and a larger space.

Soon, she had more people asking for ad space and found she couldn’t stay employed and keep publishing her flyer. Saying some prayers, and going all out, she decided to live on her meager savings, moved into the small apartment behind the old shop, and soon found she was the editor/publisher of a small newsletter that was struggling, but keeping her alive.

Some former coworkers teased her; only for awhile. She knew she was on to something, when a reporter from a large news station asked for the opportunity to post an article. They felt they were basically inconsequential at their job and wanted an opportunity to present something they found important; even if their media bosses thought it was not.

It wasn’t long after the article that her newsletter turned into a newspaper, which involved dealing with a bank, investing in new equipment and hiring people to help with distributing her paper. It was daunting at first, but she was a natural at her trade. In spite of her new responsibilities, she refused to succumb to just being “the boss” and was constantly involved with all aspects of her newspaper.

She was close to reaching the man on the bench. She could now see he was older, yet it was hard to determine his age. At first glance, he appeared ancient, but closer inspection made her think he was around 70; maybe younger.

Deliberately walking as far away from him she could, she slowed, preparing to stop, when he said: “You must be Tia” as he looked up.

“I am”

Rising slowly, he reached to shake her hand. As she took his hand, he smiled and said: “I’m pleased to meet you.”

She realized his grip was firm, yet belayed a strength she didn’t usually find in older people. She carefully examined his face and realized she still couldn’t determine his age.

His hair was gray, yet his neatly trimmed beard was flecked with brown. He had many wrinkles, yet his skin had a youthful glow and lacked age spots. His hazel eyes were clear, had no redness and sparkled when he soon responded to her gaze: “Are you finding what you’re looking for?”

Embarrassed, she replied: “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude, but it’s one of those things I’ve always done. I try to gather as much information from someone as possible, and examining their face is one source that reveals more than people realize.”

He continued to smile and asked: “And, what did you gather?”

Without thinking, she responded: “Not enough.”

He laughed and motioned for her to sit.

He soon spoke: “I know you’re wondering why I asked you here, so I won’t waste your time with trivialities.”

“You can call me Ed Johnson. That’s not my real name, but it will do for now.”

Tia just sat and waited.

Ed turned, stared toward the horizon and his eyes glazed, as he started speaking; his smile now gone.

“I’ve observed many things during my lifetime. Some good, some bad and many that seemed inconsequential at the time. Mostly, my observations were of people and what they find motivating. That’s why I chose you.”

Tia responded: “Chose me for what?”

Smiling again, he explained: “First, I must give you this.” Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a memory stick and handed it to Tia.

“You will have plenty of time to examine it over time; and it will take awhile.”

Tia looked at his face, which still revealed little, and took the memory stick. Before she could ask any question, he turned away again and started speaking: “You’ll find my real name there, and my journal, with photos. “

He continued: “Years ago, while studying, I met a group of doctors that can only be described as amazing. Not only were they geniuses, I’ve never found anyone as compassionate, and devoted as they were. They allowed me to become involved with their project, with the explicit demand I kept their work secret. I agreed and was soon amazed by their discovery.”

Ed paused, while continuing to stare across the park. Impatient, Tia soon asked: “What discovery?”

Ed waited a long time before answering: “A compound that slows aging.”

Tia, feeling a little used, responded with a low “Humph”, which caused a response from Ed.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me, but there’s sufficient proof on that memory stick, with documentation that is infallible.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you’re not a prankster, or demented?”

With a quick laugh, Ed responded: “Of course not. I wouldn’t think much of you, if you took me at my word.”

Now confused, and a little angry, Tia began to wonder why she came.

Ed, realizing she was feeling like the victim of a practical joke, placed his hand on hers and said: “I need to explain a little more. After that, you can leave to go over the information I gave.”

Still angry, Tia waited for him to continue.

With a wry smile, Ed continued: “People don’t change very much. The basic wants and desires never change, but society does. What we call evil is rarely the wish of many; it’s usually the result of manipulation of only a few seeking power, without any qualms of the harm their efforts may cause. That’s why I chose you. Your rare talents and opportunities offer what I consider a brief chance of doing something that will change the world. Regardless of the outcome, I believe my choice is best.”

Tia, now interested, was quick to respond: “So, tell me what this has to do with me.”

Pausing, then sighing, Ed continued: “What I will soon say will make you think I’m insane. I can accept that, but I have the feeling time will prove otherwise.”

Tia waited.

“I’m 150 years old.”

Quick to anger, and not amused, Tia rose to leave and said: “I knew it.”

Ed quickly grabbed her arm and said: “I knew your great grandfather. Please allow me a few more minutes”

Her anger now overwhelmed by her curiosity, Tia sat again, and waited for him to continue.

Over the next ten minutes, Ed described meeting Tia’s great grandfather, helping him establish the printing business that was eventually closed by her grandfather, and how they’d spent many days fishing on the pier that burned down when she was a child. He knew facts only the family knew, and he described the final days of her great grandmother with enough detail to make her know he was either very resourceful, or actually was present at her demise.

Turning to say something, she realized Ed had tears in his eyes.

“That was one of the saddest days in my life. I loved your great grandmother like family and her passing was terrible to watch. Cancer treatment was brutal and fruitless at that time. Your great grandfather was devastated and never really recovered from the event.”

They both sat quietly for a few minutes. Ed was first to speak: “I have this hope that the dismal future of our society will be changed by what I gave you. You have the opportunity to not only change how information is passed, you have the audience of those that can think, will respond readily and make the difference that will be required to enable a bright future for our species.”

Tia could only sit and wait for Ed to continue.

“Included in the information is the formula for the compound that slows aging. Those wonderful doctors that created the compound are now all gone, due to the idiosyncrasies of fate. The last doctor fell from a ladder last week, while pruning a tree in his yard. The rest all died accidentally, so my vow to secrecy can now be broken.”

Tia, wondering, asked: “So what is it you want me to do?”

Ed shook his head, and laughed: “I have no specific instructions. It’s all completely up to you. I have enough of the compound to last for a long, long time and will soon move to continue hiding my identity. Even if you wanted to expose me, you’ll never find me.”

Smiling, Tia could only respond with a quick: “Okay”

Ed rose, reached out his hand and shook Tia’s hand one last time: “It’s been a real pleasure and you’ll never know how much this means to me.”

Quickly, he left. Tia watched as he walked away, and soon disappeared around the bend in the sidewalk.

Tia continued sitting on the bench and stared across the park. Her mind was racing with numerous thoughts, but the one nagging thought she’d been the victim of a prank wouldn’t leave.

Whispering to herself, she said: “We’ll soon find out.”

Rising from the bench, she quickly started toward her shop. As she walked, she now wasn’t the least bit interested in the beautiful gardens and foliage of the park. She had to know and it would bother her until she did.  

When All Fails, Post Something

I've been busy at home, and at work. In the madness, I haven't been posting much, but I've had a lot of thoughts on everything from politics, to things that probably only matter to me.

I'm hoping to most more in the near future. If I don't, it's not that I don't want to; it's I'm too distracted by other things and probably don't have time.

The Tug of Winter

The last two days could be described as wonderful summer days in colder climates. With temperatures in the fifties in the morning, and bluebird clear afternoons in the low seventies, glorious is the best description.

Today started with a solid deck of high cirrus clouds. They obscured the sun; the almost strange sky, when it's as though a solid coat of gray paint was painted on the inside of a globe.

The temperature stayed in the low seventies, and the clouds started developing a texture, with even mammatus cast against the solid cirrus deck. The approaching front is increasing the moisture, and the atmosphere has more to work with.

The sky is now filled with a solid deck of stratus, with a few low cumulus interspersed. An occasional rain drop foretells the rain even to start tonight. I strong front is coming, and Winter will appear again for a few days.

Around here, this is early Spring. The gray accentuates the patches of clover and dandelion. The green is brilliant in the dim light allowed by evening.

In a way, I really enjoy this time of year. It's so pleasant; and the temperature allows short sleeves, with sandals.

In another way, these days bring a foreboding. I know the brutal heat of Summer is approaching. The humidity will lead to days when the blistering heat isn't relieved by sweating. Every day is filled with misery on the construction project; and the long days lead to fatigue unrelieved by a long weekend of rest.

I'll take what I get, and not let the future days of heat occupy my mind. They'll do that more than enough in the near future. Until then, I'll sit on the back porch and relish the moments of peace.

Something I Really Dislike

I read different news sites. One thing that will immediately cause me to close a site is an automatic play video. That, and no written story.

Why? Because bandwidth costs real money, I may not be interested in the crappy video, and I think it's the work of arrogant assholes to think I'm willing to take the time to waste my money on their video.

That is all. You can return to your regular scheduled program.

Silliness and the Costs

We started a project, which involves a substantial amount of sidewalk. Included in this sidewalk is the removal of several drives; including commercial drives. Why? because the cross slope is a tad off from 2% and is unacceptable for ADA compliance.

What is a 2% cross slope? That's about a 1/4 inch per foot. With a typical sidewalk, that's about a difference of 2 inches in elevation. That's the arbitrary number set by the Feds, and it's beyond negotiation.

Is this reasonable? Probably not, but the bureaucrats had something to sink their teeth into, and they're like pit bulls with a pound of bacon. The differences of many drives are negligible, but that 1/8 inch difference determines whether government highway funds are granted, or withheld.

The costs? I have no idea, but with the millions I've seen wasted, I can only assume the nationwide costs are in the billions; if not hundreds of billions.

Why is this money so necessary? For wheelchairs. I might be wrong, but for the waste I've seen, they could have bought anyone in a wheelchair a special van, hired a chauffeur, and paid for them for life.

And they wonder why everyone is so pissed.

Food Measuring

I despise the idea of food calorie measurement. Weight control is an easy task: If you eat too much, you get fat. If you eat too less, you get skinny.

I don't measure food. I eat what I want, watch my weight, and adjust accordingly. I don't figure ounces, count calories, or try to figure out such bizarre measurements, like a slice of bacon.

How thin of a slice? How much lean? How much fat? What brand? Smoked, cured, or not?

I'm sure there's some pogue sitting at a desk, determining such nonsense, and sending nasty letters to food producers, when the measurements don't fit some arbitrary quantity decided by a bureaucrat.

My solution to such things is to fire all of them, give everyone a tax break, and anyone that wants to watch their weight cans spend their own money on such horseshit.

Bleh!

Anchor Fibs

Brian Williams doesn't tell the truth. For those that support NBC News: Where do you find the line between fact and fiction? Can you ever watch their news broadcast again, and not feel you might be given fiction, instead of facts?

Changing Meanings

Aretha Franklin sang a song "You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman". It had a good meaning. A testament to how a relationship made her "natural", which was an admirable quality; a woman with exceptional character brought on by love.

Now, it means she doesn't shave her armpits.

Bleh!

Rude Awakening

The Department of Homeland Security has been illegally issuing work permits since 2009. I know many are thinking: "This is more of the same crap, and there's nothing that can be done.", but you''re wrong. Sooner or later, an individual will be charged with a crime; probably the dumbest rock in the box at a lower level, but they'll find they have no protection from the President asking them to break the law. After the prosecutions start, the feeding frenzy for "wannabee" U.S attorneys will bloody the water all over the nation.

It will be a rude awakening for many bureaucrats. They deserve their fate, and I hope it hurts.

It's The Superbowl.

And I don't care. I'm not a sports fan. Not that I don't like sports, but I like participating. Always have, and swam competitively when I was young. I even played Little League baseball, plenty of vacant lot football and spent many a summer day running like a crazy striped tail critter. I can still complete a full day finishing concrete, which is a workout. ( If you don't believe this, I'll see you at the next pour)

Only one sport ever appealed to me to watch, and some don't call it a sport. That's professional boxing. Knowing the training involved, the punishment, and the heart required to win, it's something that appeals to me to watch.

So, I won't watch, but am glad for those that do the event. It's a day of companionship, friendly rivalry, and a reason to party....just be at work on time, and a hangover is no excuse for not being on top of your game.