Angel Flight

Back in the day... the 70's... when I was newly married for the first time, Angel Flight was the name of a clothing line. Even though there were angel flights returning from Viet Nam on a daily basis, we didn't hear much about them. They were unheralded. Any stories on them seemed tainted with bitterness and disrespect. It was a truly unpopular war and it was my generation's war. There were two fields of combat; one in the jungles of Southeast Asia and the other on the streets of the USA. Those of us who served were caught up in both. Our Angel Flights came in without fanfare, without much respect, except from the families and friends of those on board.

There seems to be something different going on today. More appreciation for the soldiers, sailors, and airmen who are putting their lives on the line in foreign lands. More respect for the sacrifices they are making. Maybe that's why this song is so important.



Take a few minutes to listen, to reflect on the men and women who are at risk for taking that flight home.

Darn butterflies

Ever have one of those days? I'm having one. I just can't seem to get an idea, a theme, a thought, to expound upon. I don't know why... but, then, we never do know, do we? Any clever thought just seems to disappear as soon as we pull up the word processor. It's like walking up to the beautiful girl (or handsome guy for those of you into that) when you were a teen and basically just stammering for 30 seconds (an eternity).

I don't have that problem anymore. The stammering, I mean. I am an old goat now and I can talk to pretty girls without worrying about what they'll think of me. After all, I am not going to get a date with any of them now. If I did, Faye would do terrible things to certain parts of my body. Followed by a divorce and certain poverty.

But this is about losing a thought. Or, more precisely, about not really having a thought to lose. Like having someone's name on the tip of your tongue, you know an idea is there, hiding in the foggiest area of your brain. In my case, that's a rather large area. When this happens, I am reminded of the song "Elusive Butterfly"...



Yeah, now just try to get that out of your head. It will still be there when you try to go to sleep tonight. Unless you have consumed a largish quantity of Margaritas.

Excuse my sweat, please.

Tuesday.... that means exercise at the YMCA (cue Village People... now try to get that song out of your head). I am getting into this 3 day a week routine. I am now up to 45 minutes of exercise. Which is bizarre when I think about how much more I used to be able to do when younger. But I spent 2 years battling a lung infection not so many years ago (1997-1999) and I gave into that mostly sedentary job I retired from in the years between then and now.

I like to observe people. And a gym is an excellent place to do that. The only drawback is having to stifle the chuckling. Which I can easily do by looking at myself in one of the ubiquitous mirrors along the walls. Yeah, I look just as silly as most of the rest. And, of course, there are always a few that are buff which just ruins your mood even more.

I admit to looking at the weight settings of others. You know, the amount of weight that the exerciser is moving on whatever machine they are interacting with. I do this because it makes me feel better about my meager weight settings compared to those buff folks I mentioned in the last paragraph. I am, of course, mature enough to realize we all have our physical limits and we must crawl before we walk. And immature enough to feel smug when the fat guy is turning red trying to move 20 pounds on a machine I set at 85. And embarrassed when I realize I had to move it down to 85 from 135 that the young woman used just before me.

I am amazed by the people on the treadmill when I come in that are still on that same treadmill when I leave some 45 minutes later. Truly amazed. I would get bored running outside for that long (assuming I would not have collapsed, gasping, on the side of the road after 4 minutes). But inside? With no change of scenery except what's on the TVs on the wall facing the treadmills and bicycles?

I don't know if it's helping me. I know it isn't hurting me yet. I also know it will take some time before I get any real noticeable results. And those results will be slow and subtle that I won't likely notice them myself. Someone else will say, "Have you lost weight?" Or, "Did you give up beer? Where's the belly?"

I never, by the way, had a beer belly. It was/is an ice cream belly. With some chocolate pudding tossed in.

Gator Politickin'

I know I promised to get away from the political this week but I figured this warranted a mention... We have 7 candidates for the position of County Tax Collector. That's right, SEVEN. You gotta wonder why that post is so desirable. Our previous tax collector passed away quite unexpectedly and, within a month, we had a number of people vying for the post, all of whom are registered Republicans. We are a strong Republican and conservative county, Democrats and liberals/progressives are definitely in the minority here.

You may have heard that we have an interesting Senate race here in Florida. It was boring for awhile until Marco Rubio started gaining ground on Charlie Crist. Crist just happens to be our governor and thought he could slide into a nice cushy Senate job after term limits ended his stay at the Governor's Mansion (why should governors have mansions anyway? Jerry Brown of California didn't live in one the last time he was governor and I actually like that guy. But I digress... as usual). Anyway, once Rubio looked like he was going to beat Crist in the primary, Crist had an epiphany and decided he was actually an Independent and not a Republican or a Democrat. It doesn't matter that he stated a month before that he was not going to run as an Independent if he lost the primary.

Technically, he didn't lie. He just didn't wait long enough to actually lose the primary.

Yet that didn't leave Rubio unopposed. There are two other Republicans running for the nominations. Two guys I barely heard of, have seen no ads for, and who I don't expect to pick up much of the vote.

On the Democratic side of that Senate race we have Kendrick Meek, son of Carrie Meek, who retired as a US Congresswoman in 2003. Her seat was taken over by, you guessed it, Kendrick. Now, Kendrick wants to move up. Unfortunately, he is being challenged by one Jeff Greene, a real estate billionaire, who may just beat him and a couple of lesser candidates who haven't got a prayer. In reality, neither Greene nor Meek have a snowball's chance in Key West of beating either Crist or Rubio. But money will be spent, coalitions made, favors will be traded, and who knows what the future might bring?

In the Governor's race, Bill McCollum thought he would coast into the Republican nomination. A widely respected Republican here, he didn't worry about the no names challenging him. Uh oh! A self-made multi-millionaire has made a good run in recent months in spite of a connection to a Medicare fraud scandal with HCA, of which he was CEO at the time. We are now being inundated with attack ads from both sides and mud is flying everywhere. Except, in Florida, we don't have mud. We have swamps so we have "muck" instead.

And you folks thought Floridians were laid back and easy going...

I think I'll vote for anyone whose name I do not recognize. And, beginning tomorrow, I swear to all my constituents, I will not mention politics for the rest of the week.

Saturday Special

I came across this while perusing the news today. I peruse the news because I am an unrepentant masochist, I suppose.

There is more at:

World's Strangest Sculptures