Monday, April 11, 2016

The prop plane. Tiniest of seats, biggest pains, heaviest of hearts.

The Canadian built prop plane so cute with its wings off the top of the fuselage and blades of steel twirling and whirling. Always twirling and whirling when on.

"If you want to pronounce it that way", I exclaimed to the gate agent who  pronounced my family name so correctly. But filling her with doubt. I'm cheaky and friendly.

Walk thru the jet way to stairs that took me down to the tarmac. Tarmac.  Ascended the stairs to the  plane like some noir star fleeing the life of Moroccan nights fueled with hashish, couscous and leprosy.

The plane so tiny. Elbow to elbow with some Honolulu bound stress agent. " I had to borrow my sister's coat. This Spring weather is inconsistent."
Its spring. The time when there is a little bit of winter and a little bit of summer mix in a stew. 
She goes on to to inform the cabin that the airline books the tightest of tight connection times... "Especially at an airport like Newark" she added looking for a brotherhood of misguided and maligned air travelers. "Sister," I thought to myself, "shut up.... Your shit is trivial, you fly to paradise."

I'm headed to the mountain state of Colorado for my uncle's funeral.

This man blasted satellites up to orbits unseen to do duties unknown to but a few.

"What did you do at work today, Dad?" My cousin once asked him. "I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you." Was his reply, joking of course... But not really.

This is the distance on this side of the family. Jets and props always needed in order to make the connections not found in telephone calls.

In my life there were only a handful of times where we made these connections.
But our connection was strong.
We shared a family's pain that was passed from mother to son, generations down the line.  Somewhere a gene was mutated by countless mixings and connections between foreign families. We came out on the other side with bad kidneys, we Men of this family line all have some mutation that will eventually have our kidneys fail.

Me and uncle both spent our time on dialysis and eventually got the gift of life in the form of a transplant.

He gave me Hope. Close to 30 years with an organ guaranteed only to last 5.
"Stay away from Gatorade" advice given to me early teen me during a visit in my teens.

"Do what your doctors say" advice give shortly after being diagnosed. With End Stage Renal failure.

"I enjoy a scotch everyone once in a while"advice given after I had a successful transplant.

His words well chose, always. Always provide Hope.

In the end, it was his heart that failed. The kidney kept doing what it needed.

This flight and connecting flight will bring my heavy heart to family for needed healing.

RIP Uncle

Friday, March 18, 2016

Caught a girl taking selfies

Last in front of me was either taking selfies or reviewing her face via here reversed phone camera. Since I could see myaelf in he screen I mugged. It was a camera after all. When wouldn't I want to mugg? I'm a muggin kinda guy.  HoWever.... She turned to acknowledge the fact that I saw her particular behavior. She smiled.  Was this smile to let MW know that she saw me I. Her selfie OR was it to acknowledge the fact that she was surreptitiously taking a photo of me????? A memento to share to her friends of the oddity sitting behind her....... Or course I made an entrance onto the airplane in the following manner:
1. Jamming out to Punch You in the Eye from the New Year's run
2. Exclaiming loudly " Wow I hit my head" after hitting my head on the overhead  compartment.
3. Saying "Howdy Neighbor" when my seat mate arrived for her window seat? This caused many mouth breathers to turn and "take notice" (whatever that means).

Airplanes are odd, enclosed social experiments.

Tuesday, March 15, 2016


No2nd airplane ride of the day. Morning spent in DCA being the asshole people watcher judging every douche in their ll bean duck boots and too expensive white soled red wings. (Saw a douche delicately cleaning his boots. Can't remember but in sure he was wearing a flannel and a the ever ubiquitous lumberjack beard all the douches seem to be wearing these days).
Casually, got onboard with the other group fivers.  What is the rush to line up to wait to get on board? While I always check a bag, I have always been lucky to find a over head bin space for my hip as fuck messenger bag and I am the penultimate passenger on the plane... mostly.

Neighbor lady on the first flight seemed to me to be a follower.... Repeating every motion I made to make myself comfortable before take off.  I would adjust the brightness of seat back TV in order to not have to be bombarded by omnipresent advertisement, she would follow suit.  I would adjust my sear belt to the correct fit, she would mimic. This along with personal characteristics leads me to believe that individual thought might not be a part of her daily routine.

Prior to rake off I required head phones i had previous place in my stowed hip messenger bag. Airplane doors locked and closed... Moments ago at from take off.... Neighbor lady asked if the was room for her belongings... I may have offered this information up to her for her trip comfort.

Meanwhile the captain is waiting to taxi, neighbor lady take he time to get here stowage material ready for stowing. Here I am standing in the aisle to assist. Flight crew fire lasers.... She decides to take all the time.... All of it, coat in the bag? Purse out? Should we tie the reusable grocery bag? (Haute fashion for the jet setting types).......

With her goods stowed the flight is ready to fly.

Come the end of our flight neighbor lady is ready to hand off her inflight created garbage. Flight crew, as they do, are going row by row to take refuse and ensure all ate ready for landing... But neighbor lady is ready to hand off the garbage NOW. Flight crew has 15 rows to deal with but neighbor lady ( who is in the middle seat) is jumping at the chance to have the crew take her personal garbage NOW. Not later, not in a minute or two.... But NOW.

DCA to ORD and its passengers can be such a chore.

John or George Templeton foundation.

Dance Moms is the worst.  Can reality TV just stop with the contrived bulls hit??

Georgia slays all with her drum kit.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

This is why we are fuct

And we wonder why our politicians don't do the right thing, the complaining plebes are not part of the reality. ONE VOICE leads to two.

Step the fuck up people.

Friday, June 28, 2013

Queen of the Night

She draws me in.

Unable to resist
Oh Ishtar, head back through the 7 gates.

Tuesday, June 04, 2013


The past week has been chock full. A home game, an away game, U23 game, a U18 & an away viewing on CSN.  All United.

I am tired, exhausted really.

My throat hoarse, my lungs & limbs aching.

However, it is an awesome feeling.  And at times transcendental.

Awesome to be with my peeps.

Awesome to meet new peeps.

Awesome to guide those new to the stands.

Awesome to breathe in the smoke and flares.

Gonna go to sleep now. Can't wait for the next match