Vacaciones en crucero

 One of the biggest moments in a fighter pilot's career (after graduating pilot training and getting qualified in his first fighter) is receiving his "tactical call sign".  Now, mere mortals would refer to this as a "nickname".  But any mere mortal can have a nickname.  Only "We Few, we proud Few, We Band of Brothers * " (brothers being an asexual descriptor now) can have a tactical call sign.  The naming committee, also sometimes referred to as a fighter squadron, will meet at a very secret location at a specified time for discussion of suitable call signs.  This secret location is generally referred to in code as "The Bar at the O'Club".  And a call sign is lifelong.  Unless said individual performs some action of aerial intrepidity or stupidity (generally the latter) that a new call sign is called for.

I received a new call sign this past Tuesday.  I had made the trip to College Station with my prototype arch to talk through the process with MBD.    In truth, the arches were just an excuse to make the trip and visit with MBD, The Rev and MG.  MG is rapidly approaching 2, is walking/running and starting to talk.  In short, she's a blast to play with.  Got a good sense of humor also, no idea where that came from. 

In any case, I got there while she was taking her afternoon nap.  MBD brought her downstairs when she woke up.  She saw me and came running.  As she was approaching, I heard her saying "Papa, Papa".  Now, The Rev is "Dada", so evidently my new Tactical Call Sign is

Papa!

You mere mortals may still refer to me as juvat, however.  The above call sign is reserved for angels. Papa was my paternal Grand Father's nickname.  Hope to live up to his example.

So, juvat, how is the arch project going?

The prototype fit perfectly.  Which is probably, almost certainly, the first time that's happened in my life.  But...  It's a good thing I went.  My vision of what the plan was and MBD's version were significantly different.  I thought existing molding would remain and the arches would be mounted behind it.  Her version, the only one that matters, had all surfaces to be on the same plane.  

So, spent a bit of time measuring and pondering.  

The new plan will take a bit more lumber and a bit more Spackle, but is doable, provided my note taking was accurate.

But the nice thing about phones with cameras, is it's easier to remember widths/lengths.  And remembering with my non-digital cranial memory device is difficult these days.

 

However, as with most changes, completion date has slipped until after we return.  If all goes as planned (Yeah, right!  I know.) we should have sailed at 1400 yesterday afternoon and are somewhere in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico as you read this.  I may even be having a medicinal Mojito right about now.  

MG of course , will be having something to sip on also.  

Comment responses may be delayed, but I have planned for them.  We'll see how that plan pans out.

¡Hasta luego, mis amigos y muchas margaritas! 

* And just because the source of that phrase raises my spirits.

This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

William Shakespeare "King Henry V"
 

Got a lot of wingmen on this blog that fit that description. God Bless y'all!