Remember...

(Source)

Went down to the Post Office on Saturday, a beautiful day I might add, knowing full well that some of you saw more rain yesterday. Had a couple of birthday cards to mail, one to a brother, one to a little girl who The Missus Herself and I consider to be a granddaughter. (She must be, she's six and loves to boss me around. It's what granddaughters do.)

Out in from of the Post Office was a fellow about my age attired in a VFW cap and jacket. He had poppies. I mentioned to him that I was gratified to see the poppies around again at this time of year.

He started to explain that Memorial Day was coming and that...

I pointed to the Navy ball cap I was wearing and said, "I get that brother, I'm retired Air Force, my kids were all Navy."

He smiled and said that he "only" served three years in the Army, a tour in Vietnam and a tour in Germany. When he asked when I retired, and I answered that the 20th anniversary of that event was at the end of the month, he postulated that we must be nearly the same age. I said that as he had served in Vietnam, he had to be a couple of years older than I.

"How old are you Sarge?"

I answered that I was 66, he smiled and "confessed" to being 68. It was as I had assumed.

I thanked him for what he did back in the day, he grinned and said that he just did his job, that's all. I looked at him for a moment and quietly stated, "Hell of a job soldier. That's all I can say."

We shot the breeze for a couple of minutes, a couple of old veterans passing the time on a brilliant spring day.

As I headed off, he thanked me, I thanked him.

Served "only" three years, at least you served brother, at least you served. I would count that Vietnam tour as worth a lot more than that, but like the old soldier said, "We were just doing our jobs."

Out West, The WSO participated in the 2019 Memorial Walk: Lemoore.

At each milestone, the names of those being commemorated by the participants were read out, Lex was mentioned, I donated in his memory, The WSO walked in his and in Taj Sareen's memory. According to her, not many knew who Lex was, but the organizers did mention that he had been a blogger in his time as well. (Which is how I knew him.)

I saw a few videos The WSO took, quite a few names were mentioned, at least four of whom are remembered up there on the masthead.

It is right and proper that we remember the fallen. Would that peace would obviate the need.

Hey Hooman!

 I am dreaming. I am in a strange cloud-world, everything is soft, yet somehow strange.

"Hooman! Wake up, the birds are singing! It will be daylight soon!"

An insistent voice echoes in my head, it wants something, what does it want?

"Is the hooman awake yet, sister? I am hungry. Well, I'm not really, but it has to be time to get up!"

With some hesitation I open one eye, the room is dimly lit, it isn't dawn yet, but I can hear birds singing. It cannot be time to get up, what is that in my face?

At that point I realize that I am staring at Sasha's butt. She has been trying to wake me up for a few minutes I gather. She usually will start by "talking" to me, various trills, meows, and the odd chatter that cats make when they're a bit frustrated. When she gets no response from all that, she tends to stick her butt in my face. As she did Friday morning.

Anya, Sasha's sister, is sitting by my feet, staring at me. When I look back at her, she stands up and meows in anticipation. Looking towards the window, I can see that it isn't daylight yet. What is up here?

As I am at an age where Nature calls much more frequently than I care for, I get up to answer that call. It isn't even 4:00 AM yet, why are the cats all worked up?

I go then I return to the bedroom. Sasha looks at me, then runs off downstairs, I guess that she feels her job is complete. I get back into bed, at which point Anya decides to sit on my back and nudge me with a paw.

"What?" I ask.

She meows, then returns to the foot of the bed. She goes back to sleep.

Later, just before six, I get up. Anya follows me downstairs, where Sasha is waiting. Their food dishes aren't quite empty, so why was I being harassed?

Well, they're cats. It's what they do. I have been around cats my entire life, will I ever truly understand them?

Nope.

But they are good company, even if they do like to get up too darned early.

Missile Guidance

Launching a Genie

That's not a real genie, Master, that's a Douglas AIR-2 Genie.
An unguided air-to-air rocket with a 1.5 kt W25 nuclear warhead.
(Source)

I can't imagine having to fire that beast (the AIR-2, not Jeannie) from an aircraft. Can you say "Bye bye night vision?"

I knew you could.

(Also worthy of note is that this is the very first time Barbara Eden and Larry Hagman have made the blog. I loved that show when I was a kid. No, I didn't join the Air Force hoping I'd meet Jeannie. Though the thought crossed my mind...)

Anyhoo, missiles, I know a thing or two about them, Worked on the guidance system for the AIM-7 (AIM = Air Intercept Missile) when I worked on the Phantom. Did some work for my current employer on an advanced variant of that missile. You could say that I was something of a "missile scientist" back in the day.

The theory is rather straightforward...

I got that tidbit from a colleague at work, if you guessed that's a spoof, you were correct. However, if you believed it, watch this...

But in reality, here's some actual stuff about rockets and missiles. Hey, it has Phantoms in it, sure no Barbara Eden, but hey, Phantoms!

This next clip shows an AIM-7 actually being used in combat. I could also say that the clip shows an AIM-7 actually functioning as designed. There were occasions where the trigger was pulled and the thing just fell off the aircraft, no rocket motor ignition, just an expensive bit of kit falling on some hapless gomer below. (No, the front didn't fall off, the whole missile did.)

Note that the beginning of the clip shows the "pipper*" on a MiG which is on the six of a Thud. Not good for the Thud. Later in the clip the aircraft are down low over the jungle. I'm guessing two clips spliced together?

So yeah, missiles are pretty cool, when they work. An internal gun on a fighter aircraft is a good thing. We learned that in Vietnam, seems to me that there are some in the Pentagon who need to learn that again.







* This looks more like the gunsight pipper and not the display used for launching an AIM-7. But hey, it's a cool film. YMMV.

Don't Panic...

So my ennui continues.

I just haven't been feeling the blogging itch lately.

It shows, doesn't it?

Anyhoo...

I have written about ejection seats before, as has juvat. Tuna mentioned them, en passant. That post wasn't about ejection seats per se but it was, as are all of Tuna's posts, très amusant, so I included a link to it.

This post isn't really about ejection seats, but I did include a couple of ejection seat videos. Just to keep things semi-aviation focused. I tell ya, I'm having trouble sticking to it. I blame the trips to California and New Hampshire, both of which were interesting and fun, but both of which interrupted my normal sleep cycle.

First World problems, neh?

Anyhoo, the first video has two zero-zero ejection tests, no "monkeyboys in the front seat*" were injured in the filming of this video. Note, if you are given a choice of ejection seats, always take the second one shown in the video. You'll see why...

(Sorry about making you jump to YouTube, these things occur.)

The next one is a brief history of the Martin-Baker ejection seat.

Ejecting from an aircraft is not something you want to do, ever. But if that's the only move you have left, take it.

Beats tying the low altitude record, every time.




FWIW, I ain't ready to quit this blogging thing just yet, just in the middle of a slump. Longer than most, but it happens, even Babe Ruth struck out from time to time.


* Go read Tuna's old post for the provenance of that phrase. FWIW, I've heard backseaters (NFOs/WSOs/RIOs) referred to as "200-pound self-loading ballast." Lots of love to go around in aviation. Remember, there is no slack in fighter-attack.

Time

Having done the whole different time zone thing in the past month, it made me think about the times when I have traveled between time zones on a rather grand scale in addition to the small scale. By grand scale I mean traveling from Tokyo to San Francisco, for instance.

I remember doing that back in the spring of 1976 when my paternal grandfather passed away, my squadron commander was kind enough to bundle me aboard a flight back to the States on a "space required" basis. Which means that I was on emergency leave and that Uncle Sam had to pay my way there and back again and he wasn't allowed to haggle over ticket prices. It had to happen very quickly. If a military flight is available, you are placed on that, perhaps bumping an individual who was flying on a "space available" basis. If there was no military flight available, Uncle Sam put you on a commercial flight.

While there was a stop along the way, according to my watch I arrived in San Francisco an hour or two before I left Tokyo.

Say what?

Due to the way time zones are laid out, and with the existence of the International Date Line, time does funky things as you circle the globe. I looked up what the departure and arrival times are for Narita (in Tokyo) to San Francisco International these days, it's a ten and a half hour non-stop flight. For instance, if you leave Tokyo at 1700 hours local (5:00 PM Tokyo time) on the 4th of June, you would arrive in San Francisco at 1030 hours local (10:30 AM San Francisco time).

On the 4th of June. That is, you would, according to your watch and calendar, arrive in San Francisco six and a half hours before you leave Tokyo.

Seriously?

Yes, seriously. Of course, when you flew to California from the Land of the Rising Sun, you were headed east, flying towards the sun (kinda, sorta but not really, the aircraft would melt, unless you went at night, I suppose - jk, jk), gaining time but also you would cross the International Date Line. Which is an interesting thing, it's mind-boggling at first but it all makes sense.

Let's say that you are in Greenwich, England and it is one second after midnight on the 4th of June. Approximately 1,037.5 miles to the east of you it's 1:00 AM. Well, that's the way it's supposed to work but in reality it's already 1:00 AM in France, just across the English Channel.

As the Earth is roughly 24,901 miles in circumference, at the equator of course, and there are 24 hours in a day, each time zone would be roughly 1,037.5 miles wide. But to avoid instances where a time zone might split political entities into awkward situations the boundaries of time zones tend to follow political boundaries. If that wasn't done then theoretically you could have a situation where it's lunch time in your kitchen but on the other side of the house it's only 11:00 AM. So even though lunch is ready, no one is going to show up to eat it for another hour. Unless they're already in the kitchen.

An examination of the map at the beginning of this post will show you the many variations of time zone boundary. One of the things which has always boggled my mind is that the time in Detroit is the same as the time in Boston ( a distance of roughly 706 miles). Yet Tallahassee, Florida is in a different time zone than Pensacola, Florida, a distance of only roughly 196 miles. What's more, they're in the same state!

Looking at Michigan, we can see that part of the Upper Peninsula is in a different time zone than the rest of the state, even those points in the U.P. which are at the same longitude!

Note that there are other states which have that time zone anomaly going on. Indiana being perhaps the strangest of all. (And what's up with Arizona, no Daylight "Saving" Time? I get it but seriously, parts of the state don't play, other parts do?)

We lived in Colorado for a number of years, which is two hours earlier than New England. Where we live now, the Super Bowl (for instance) ends rather late at night. Well, late-ish for a certain gentleman of a senior nature, i.e. me, Your Humble Scribe. I have trouble getting up the next morning to go to work if I stay up late the night before. However, in Colorado that was never a problem, the game was over at a very reasonable hour. Heck, in California one could still go out for a nice dinner after the game and still be in bed relatively early.

Beats Korea where the game was on very early Monday morning, or Germany where it would end very, very early on Monday morning. Which is why for years I took the Monday after the Super Bowl as a day off. 'Twas the only way I could stay up to watch the game. (Except in Korea where we would actually watch it while at work. Never were many broken jets during the Super Bowl. Odd that...)

So I find time interesting. Especially as a blogger when I want to describe something which happened on the day I wrote the post, but have to write it as if it happened the day after I wrote the post. That is, the day y'all are reading the post. Time travel, in a manner of speaking.

For what's it worth, in my own experience it's easier to travel across time zones going west. Going east always induces massive jet lag. Ask me about the red eye to Germany back on New Year's Day of 1992 sometime, ouch!

Also of note, forty-four years ago Monday last is when I embarked on my Air Force career. At the end of this month it will be twenty years since that career ended in honorable retirement.

So yeah, time can be confusing, but it can also fly, too damned fast at times.

Practically supersonic once you hit sixty.

DAMHIK

So Where Was I?

Yes, I severely neglected the blog over the weekend. Mea culpa.

It was Mothers Day weekend and I did indeed head north to the family estate to visit with my Mom. Saw both brothers and one SIL as well (that would be The Musician and Mr and Mrs Olde Vermonter.) Saturday was gorgeous, Sunday not so much, for a little while I thought that we had been transported to Rancho Juvat down in rainy Texas. But from yesterday's informe meteorológico de Texas, I see that we didn't get nearly that much rain up here in the Northeast.  

For the first time in a long time (perhaps ever) I did not respond to comments for two posts in a row. Pretty sure I've never done that before, perhaps El Archivista might have some data on that. At any rate, y'all seemed to do fine without me chipping in and I really don't like commenting from the handy-dandy cellular device. Big fat fingers, little tiny keys, not a good mix.

I've been giving some thought to redoing the header of the blog. It's not that I don't like the current look, I just need a change. For one thing, there are so many folks who deserve to be up there and just not enough room to accommodate them all. Not to mention, Beans asked in the comments sometime last week (which you may notice I am too lazy to look up right now) as to the status of what he called the "hall of heroes" page. Well, that's part and parcel of the aforementioned upcoming changes to the look of this here blog.

I'm working on it.

Work continues to be very busy (and I'm not complaining, it is interesting work) which leaves me somewhat mentally hors de combat at the end of the day. So I have been taking a sort of mental vacation from the blog, no heavy-duty posts, nothing requiring a lot of research or (on some days) thought. I might start paying more attention to current events, well I have been paying attention but I might actually post more of what's what in the world than I normally do. Gives me headaches it does but y'all seem to like those sorts of posts.

And I aim to please.

So, Game of Thrones, I know some of you watch it, I know some of you take a certain pride in not watching it, ever. Not doing something is not an accomplishment I would brag about, but to each his/her own. I have been watching it conscientiously, I almost said religiously, since it first started, some eight years ago I believe.

It all started when I was waiting at PVD for a flight down to DCA, might have been ORF, I don't remember all that clearly, I just remember "going to Virginia." Which year it was would tell me the destination, but it ain't all that important to the tale at hand.

Anyhoo, I was in the terminal, at the book shop, looking for something to read on the flights there and back again, saw this book with a picture of a throne made from swords on the cover and thought, "Hhmm, what be this? Some sort of fantasy-action type fiction?"

Well, yes, yes, it was. I bought the book and was enthralled. This was before the HBO series came out, the name of the book was Game of Thrones and it was written by a chap yclept George R. R. Martin.  Seems it was part of a series called A Song of Fire and Ice, the first book in the series to be sure. Most entertaining it was.

It must have not been too long before the HBO series came out because I was soon visiting my local book emporium looking for the second and subsequent books in the series. Of which I discovered that there were four in existence of an eventual seven. (Which I'm betting will not happen, Mr. Martin is now rich and famous so why would he want to work for a living? And writing, dear reader, is indeed work. I was happy to get a fifth book, especially as I thought the fourth book sucked, not to put too fine a point on it.)

When the HBO series came out, I was on loan to a different facility here in the Northeast and spent my weekdays ensconced in a hotel, far from home. Well, not that far but too far to drive back and forth every day. At any rate, the hotel had HBO and I had time on my hands. So I began watching the series up there.

When my tour of duty "up north" came to a close, I managed to finagle HBO from The Nuke and eventually on my own dime via Amazon Prime. I haven't missed an episode and for this final season I find myself staying up far too late on Sunday nights watching the show and even the bits after the show where the producers tell you why they did things as they did.

It's been an entertaining season, though like many I feel the quality of the writing is not up to par with the preceding seasons, but it's still entertaining.

One more episode, then I can finally get to bed early on Sunday.

Speaking of HBO series...

I can wait to the next day for Chernobyl. Don't need stay up late to see those episodes when they're released, I know the story and what happened. It is a well-made series so far. Someone should make Bernie and AOC watch every episode back-to-back over and over again. Show them just how "wonderful" socialism is. Idiot bastids.

Anyhoo, stay tuned for the upcoming changes, y'all get a vote after all. I just write the stuff, you read it. If you ain't happy, I ain't happy.

Noah! Part Duh!

Well.....I got the Ark built.  Just in time!  Another 6 inches for a total of 14 between Thursday and Thursday.   Here's a video of me building it, outfitting it, sailing it on Lake Juvat and then beaching it in Kentucky.

Well....maybe not.

But there was a lot of rain.  And a lot of rain, especially if delivered in a short period of time, can do a lot of damage.  For example, my road is pretty well destroyed.  It was going to need redoing soon anyway, but I hadn't really planned on completely replacing it.

3 3/4" in about an hour Sunday Week.

What used to be my road.  Doesn't look too bad, except that's about 6 inches of water flowing from left to right across, what used to be, our black asphalt road.  We're looking at the base.

 

This is Monday morning.  South Stockpond, the water in the grass in the foreground is flowing across the road at about 1"

Monday Afternoon North Stockpond.  Crummy shot, except I can't get any closer as the ground is a bog.  That stockpond is usually dry and is 20' deep now.

Fence is between me and my neighbor to the north.  I didn't know we had a river.

This is the entrance to our property.  That's a yardstick.

Same yardstick, about 12-15", took two front end loader loads of gravel to make it somewhat passable.  Thankfully, my northern neighbor had some.

My neighbor to the east.  They had just resurfaced that road

Pedernales River less than a mile from my house.  Most of the time you can jump across it.

Fortunately, the bridge isn't in too much danger of flooding.

So...Been a busy week, and next week isn't looking much better,  Rain forecast again tonight and off and on through Friday.  Unfortunately (never thought I'd say that in Texas), the ground is saturated, so any measurable amount of rain is going to flow into the stockponds and down to the river.

And that's my excuse for not having the whiz-bang posting I had intended for today.  (Well, that and a Mrs J mandated trip to Moscow on the Colorado to see MBD and SIL on Mother's day.  Which was nice.)  Hopefully next week.

Stay dry, my Friends.  Anybody know where I can get a bunch of dirt, gravel and asphalt, cheap?