Seen on the street in Kyiv.

Words of Advice:

"If Something Seems To Be Too Good To Be True, It's Best To Shoot It, Just In Case." -- Fiona Glenanne

“The Mob takes the Fifth. If you’re innocent, why are you taking the Fifth Amendment?” -- The TOFF *

"Foreign Relations Boil Down to Two Things: Talking With People or Killing Them." -- Unknown

“Speed is a poor substitute for accuracy.” -- Real, no-shit, fortune from a fortune cookie

"Thou Shalt Get Sidetracked by Bullshit, Every Goddamned Time." -- The Ghoul

"If you believe that you are talking to G-d, you can justify anything.” — my Dad

"Colt .45s; putting bad guys in the ground since 1873." -- Unknown

"Stay Strapped or Get Clapped." -- probably not Mr. Rogers

"The Dildo of Karma rarely comes lubed." -- Unknown

"Eck!" -- George the Cat

* "TOFF" = Treasonous Orange Fat Fuck,
"FOFF" = Felonious Old Fat Fuck,
"COFF" = Convicted Old Felonious Fool,
A/K/A Commandante (or Cadet) Bone Spurs,
A/K/A El Caudillo de Mar-a-Lago, A/K/A the Asset,
A/K/A P01135809, A/K/A Dementia Donnie, A/K/A Felon^34,
A/K/A Dolt-45, A/K/A Don Snoreleone

Saturday, January 5, 2008

Stearman!

A gent whose handle is One Fly stopped by and left a link to this photo in a comment. It was too pretty not to share.


Close to 18 years ago, I got it into my head to buy an airplane and I knew what I wanted: A taildragger. I started some refresher training (I had tailwheel time from the 1970s) at an outfit at the airport in Lawrence, MA. I checked out in a Piper L-4 (military version of a Cub) at about $33/hr, wet. I did most of the landing training at a narrow airport not far from there, which closed soon afterwards because as we all know, We Cannot Have Too Many Shopping Malls. (Anyone who tears up an airport for a shopping mall has a blasted soul and will burn in Hell until the heat death of the Universe, if I had my way about it.)

They also had a Stearman which rented for $150/hr. I took two very expensive lessons. On the first one, we did landings at a grass airport. A public road ran right by the runway and, each time that we landed and taxied back for takeoff, a few cars had pulled over to watch. I commented to the instructor that "this isn't the airplane to use for a buzz job."

Two lessons were all I could afford. Flying along in that airplane on a summer's morning, looking out over the landscape, turning the airplane from time to time with the control stick and wearing a cloth flying helmet and sunglasses was about as close to a Walter-Mittyesqe think that I have done in my memory. It probably was the most fun I've ever had with my clothes on. Or "off", for that matter.

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