Thursday, February 23, 2017


"OAFS Two-Five, you are cleared for take-off."

"Roger tower, Two-Five, rolling."

Easing back on the control yoke, the pilot, callsign Fatman, had the bird off the runway and turning slightly to get the aircraft on a north bound heading. Getting the bird airborne with a full load of ordnance used a lot of gas, so the co-pilot, callsign LUSH, was on the radios with the tanker.

"Booger, you up?" The pilot called over the intercom to the bombardier (callsign Booger, obviously).

"Roger Fatman, all systems are in the green, but I'm getting an intermittent fault light on the weapons computer."

"Copy, keep an eye on it. Mom, you have a course for us?"

The navigator, callsign Mom, checked in, "Hold this course, you should see the tanker in a couple of minutes. Hey, quit jinking would you, Booger looks a little queasy."

"Copy. Hey, let me fly the aircraft, you just keep me pointing in the right direction. Toejam, how you looking?"

The Electronic Warfare Officer, or EWO, callsign Toejam, checked her systems and reported back that everything was in the green.

Refueling went smoothly, even with the intermittent turbulence the aircraft was experiencing. The crew accused the pilot of being heavy-handed on the controls, the pilot told them to suck it up as pretty soon they'd be down in the weeds and doing some "real flying."

Just as the pilot began his descent, he heard retching noises over the intercom. Looking back quickly, he regretted that decision immediately. All he could see was the bombardier retching all over the navigator. For some odd reason, the EWO thought that was hysterical. The smell threatened to overwhelm the entire crew.

"Talk to me people, what the hell is going on back there!"

No response.

"LUSH, get back there and check it out."

Moments later, LUSH came back to the cockpit.

"Jesus Fatman, it's a mess back there. Booger blew chunks all over Mom, everything is covered in vomit and damn near every caution light on the nav board is lit. Freaking Toejam didn't get any on her but she's laughing like a crazy person."

"Mom, Fatman. Can you continue?"

"Ah, negative Fatman. Everything back here is covered with Booger's breakfast."

Before Mom clicked off, the pilot heard, "Jesus Booger, what the hell did you eat this morning?"

So yeah, the plan yesterday was to get up early, hit the road and head north to visit my mother. She hasn't seen the youngest grandchild since she was about two months old. Now she's 17 months old, motoring around on her own two feet and chattering like a magpie. As the naval branch of the California tribe doesn't make it back East all that often, it seemed appropriate to make a visit. Though three hours up and three hours back (can't stay overnight for various and sundry reasons) makes for a long day, we've done it before.

I was up at 0600 and ready to roll at 0700. Of course, no one else was ready as they were still in the process of waking up and, as The Missus Herself (callsign Mom) often reminds me (callsign Fatman), getting the young 'uns up, fed, and ready to roll is time consuming, even when the young 'uns are feeling cooperative. Which they were.

At any rate The Missus Herself and The WSO (callsign LUSH), eventually got the kids, Little Bit (callsign Booger) and L'il Sweetie (callsign Toejam) ready and we loaded up the car. A few stops later (to buy fuel, then flowers, then coffee) we were on the road. About an hour and a half later than I wanted, but, as most of you know, I seldom get a vote when the females of the clan are gathered en masse. Which they were.

An hour into the trip, Little Bit, with no warning, hurled all over her grandmother (sitting in the back seat between the bairns in their car seats), aka The Missus Herself. As we were on the highway with no place to stop, we spent about 15 minutes in that toxic atmosphere before pulling over into what turned out to be an out-of-business gas station. (Which I discovered when The WSO directed me to go inside and buy some kind of cleaner. When we pulled in I had parked to the side and hadn't noticed the conspicuous absence of humans and merchandise inside. In my defense, my focus was on the conditions prevailing in the backseat.)

As we still had about 2 hours and change to go to my mother's place, we weren't at the "point of no return" and as The Missus Herself and Little Bit were pretty much covered from the waist down with...

Nah, not gonna go there. The memory (and the smell) are still too fresh.

Needless to say, we didn't go visit my mom. But I did get a blog post out of it. So the day wasn't a total loss. Then again, I wasn't covered in, well, you know what. The GIBs (gals in the back) might have a different take on the day. But it's my blog and I get to tell the story. No doubt their version, provided they wished to relive those moments, would be rather different.

Wasn't that humorous at the time, at least not to the GIBs, but, as I'm a loon, I saw the humor in it almost immediately. As for Little Bit, once she'd, shall we say, cleared the target, she said she felt much better. Just a passing queasiness. When we arrived back at Chez Sarge, she announced that she was hungry and "can we go to McDonald's?"

I tell ya, the kid's a trooper. Iron stomach and all that.

Speaking of stomachs, after we had returned home, the bairns were tossed into the bath (L'il Sweetie didn't really need it but she loves bath time). The WSO stepped away briefly to grab a towel and upon her return noticed a foreign object afloat in the bath water.

"Oh Dear God", I heard my daughter exclaim. Seems that L'il Sweetie had decided to contribute to the day's all around disgusting-ness in her own little way. Um no, that wasn't a Baby Ruth. Though it kinda looked like one. Kinda reminded me of a few admins LUSH and her squadron mates have told me about. Even The Skipper had a couple of tales but...

Let's just call it a day, shall we?

Quelle affaire! (As Blücher might have said...)

Or, as Colonel Kurtz might have said...


  1. I have distinct and color memories of when I was two years old. One of them was taking a bath with my sister, and one of those brown trout getting loose in the tub. She bailed out of the tub like a missile. I remember being amused at her screaming, while dripping all over the floor. Memory is faded out after that, so I guess the result wasn't as funny as the actual weapon release....

  2. I guess the situation is a bit funnier when you're one generation removed. When you're the operative adult in the situation, however....Memories don't seem to be as funny. ALTHOUGH, Little Juvat, if you're reading this.....Be on the lookout!

    1. Far funnier if you're one generation removed.

      And not in the back seat!

    2. Mayhap the guys who made the back seat for my Vicky could make one for your SUV.

    3. Actually Big Girl only seats four, so we were in the trusty Corolla S.

  3. Been there, done that with my daughter way back in the day...........

    Funny, I was just listening to a cool, old, obscure tune that has a wretching sound in the middle. "Hung Over" by the Martinis. Has a nice Booker T and the MGs vibe to it. Thought it apropos for today's post............

  4. I was on Forrestal and somewhere in the Med. No, I don't know exactly where, that was the Navigator's job. I was assigned to Number One Auxiliary Machinery Room, and my job was to keep the lights on, and make enough fresh water so the airdales could wash airplanes. Hmm. Never saw any airplane washing when we were in port, but I digress.
    Of all things that I could have been blessed with, genius, height, lightning fast reflexes, and much more, I was blessed with being short, snarky, and I don't get seasick. (amusement park rides are a different story)
    Not getting seasick when you are stationed on a can is awesome, when you are stationed on a carrier, meh. Usually the carriers avoid bad weather because the airplanes get damaged, and the pilots have to actually fly the airplanes. But again, I digress.
    The weather in the Med was rough enough that you could feel the carrier pitch and roll, and that is some bad weather. I was on the forward mess decks getting lunch before going on watch and I was eating with two snipes from the forward Main Space named Ormond, and Migloretti. Lunch was fried fish squares topped with cheese and served on hamburger buns and there were a few airdales at the mess table as well, I could tell they were airdales because they had cleverly camouflaged themselves by wearing an assortment of pull over jerseys in a whole rainbow of colors.
    The airdales were looking a little pale, (this was odd as it was summer in the Med) and Ormond looks at Migloretti and says, "How's that fish with ketchup?" Mig replies by saying, "Its good. Wanna try some?" Ormond says yes, and Mig reaches into his mouth and hands a half chewed ball of fish sandwich to Ormond. Ormond pops it into his mouth, chews and says, "This is good." The airdales are now eating a lot more slowly and looking a little pale. Of course a few moments later Ormond says to Mig, "Wanna try some with mayo?" and the scene repeats. I don't think the airdales could have left the table any faster if they were launched by catapult.
    Good times.

    1. Not getting seasick is good.

      Great story.

    2. Been there, done that, got the tee shirt. Messing with the fellows suffering from mal de mer is great fun and completely insensitive. As they say, if you can't take a joke you shouldn't have raised your hand at MEPS...

    3. Oh that's right, that would be one of your specialties wouldn't it.

      Not sure I'd of had the stomach for that.

  5. How utterly revolting. ;). Been there done that....on a plane with my daughter when she 18 months old. Long plane ride.

    1. On a plane ride?!?! OMG.

      I cannot begin to imagine...

      The horror.

  6. Thanks for " throwing up " a post. It was very funny, it you weren't in the back seat.

    Paul L. Quandt

  7. Vomitous hilarity! Wife told me how her and her brother and sister used to fight to see who had to sit next to their youngest sister due to her propensity for esophageal expulsion. That lasted until little brother started sympathetically spewing when cued by the younger. Thanks for the brain cleanser the past few days by the way. Oh yeah, found this site today which reminds me of someone...

    1. Looks like some good stuff there. I will spend more time there methinks.

  8. Well, the stock value of windex must have gone up today. After the third monitor spray I decided to read all the way to the end before cleaning up for the fourth time. Great post, elicits a lot of diverse memories. An exceptionally well told story.

  9. Chuckles abound here. Thanks for the hilarity.

    Reminds me of the time in Hawaii I took 5 school teachers in town for a wedding on a sightseeing tour around Oahu. We spent the last 30 minutes of the flight circling a pod of whales just off the southeast shore (you could do that back then. Now, not so much). As soon as we landed, parked and got the door opened one of the ladies bolted to the tail and unloaded. To this day I thank my lucky stars she was able to hold it 'til then. Otherwise I'm afraid I would have had a planeful of sickies, pilot included.

  10. Having had dealings with eight various food processors, I've found that the youngn's tend to use up the food they need and explosively get rid of the rest. Either the first shot or shot number two (!) holds excitement and wondrous awe for the first several seconds. After that, not so much.

  11. Had that happen in a Cessna 172. The Queen was in the right front seat, turned green and spewed out the window as I was trying to make a very quick non-emergency landing. My niece and sister in law in the backseat were trying valiantly to avoid overspray.

    1. Hahaha!

      Sprayed the monitor picturing the ladies in the back seat.

  12. Ugh! I rarely vomit but when I do it is usually watching someone else (and smelling them) Ugh!


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