Which was the soundtrack for tonight's After Dinner Whiskey Hour (in part). Linda's version of this song ain't the one we were listenin' to but it's my favorite... so...
The version we heard tonight was the original... by Little Feat... about which purists will bitch, piss, and moan if we don't include it here, so we will do so:
That's the version from Waiting for Columbus and there are many, many more. I kinda like this one the best, though, and it goes without sayin' that your mileage may vary. Especially if you happen to be a Little Feat or a Lowell George fan.
All that aside, we were watching a C-130 of the Compass Call variety (or something very much like it) make lazy orbits over P-Ville as ol' Lowell was croonin' on about how he'd be willin' if someone showed him a sign. And we took pictures, too (click to embiggen, as always).
The first shot is a 30 percent re-sized pic of that C-130; the second is a full-size crop of that same shot. I was hopin' the guys would hang around until the sunset got dramatic, which is to say like this:
Alas... they made about a dozen orbits over me and then moved off into the sunset to leave me alone with my thoughts... thoughts that tended toward how I'd be willin' to be up there with 'em. I wouldn't even need any weed or whites (besides the fact this ain't even Your Father's Air Force) but I'd definitely want some wine. Or beer or single malt, such as the case might be. It kinda smarts a bit to be an old warhorse that's been put out to pasture, but it is what it is.