A (Very) Minor Milestone

We hit 6,000 today.

Six thousand posts in eight and a half years o' blogging.  Who'd a thunk it?

Slow Season

From the Usual USAF Source...

Slow Season for USAF Hurricane Hunters

The Air Force Reserve Command's 53rd Weather Reconnaissance Squadron at Keesler AFB, Miss., flew a record low number of hurricane tracking flights this past winter, states a base release. In fact, it was the "fourth slowest winter weather reconnaissance season on record," according to a report from the Chief Aerial Reconnaissance Coordination All Hurricanes unit at the National Hurricane Center in Miami. The National Weather Service typically tasks the 53rd WRS to gather data while flying over the Pacific Ocean, but did not do so this past winter in order to develop an analysis for cost-effectiveness, states the April 7 release. "The low number of flight taskings can partly be attributed to the fact that many of this year's storms moved West to East over land and did not start over water where reconnaissance flights could have benefited the forecasts," said John Pavone of CARCAH. The 53rd WRS had deployed previously to JB Pearl Harbor-Hickam, Hawaii, and JB Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska, to track hurricanes. "The models used by the National Weather Service are becoming more sophisticated and better at analyzing future conditions over North America," said Lt. Col. Jon Talbot, 53rd WRS chief meteorologist.

Wait!  How can this BE?  Weren't we told that we'd get more and bigger storms due to global warming climate change?  This isn't good news for the Hurricane Hunters who will miss those Hawaii deployments (but NOT the Elmendorf ones).

Speaking of those Hurricane Hunters...

A WC-130J from the 53rd Weather Reconnaissance Squadron takes off in support of Operation Surge Capacity here (ed: Keesler AFB, Miss) April 5, 2014. Sixteen aircraft from the 403rd Wing took part in Operation Surge Capacity, a large scale training exercise designed to test the 403rd Wing's ability to launch and recover a large formation of aircraft and to execute airdrops. (U.S. Air Force photo/Tech. Sgt. Ryan Labadens) (Click for count-the-rivets size)

Those guys standing by the runway in the pic?  That's one of the fairways on the Keesler Airplane Patch golf course, with Biloxi's Back Bay in the background.  Keesler is a pretty nice base, appearance-wise.  I spent a couple of years there, in the aggregate, going to various electronics schools during my career.  I hated nearly every damned minute of my stays, especially the first time I was there in 1963 - 64.  Why then?  Because I lived in non-air conditioned splendor for an entire summer on the Mississippi Gulf Coast, with two room mates.  That's why.  I do believe Biloxi and its environs has some of the most miserable weather in all of the United States.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

One of my very favorite Van Morrison songs from one of my very favorite albums of his.

You're the queen of the slipstream with eyes that shine
You have crossed many waters to be here
You have drank of the fountain of innocence
And experienced the long cold wintry years

There's a dream where the contents are visible
Where the poetic champions compose
Will you breathe not a word of this secrecy?
Will you still be my special rose?

VM released Poetic Champions Compose in 1987, which was one my better years.  I was two years removed from the Air Force and had settled in to my civilian career in Dee-troit, a career that would ultimately be semi-successful beyond my wildest dreams (at that particular time).  The Second Mrs. Pennington and I also bought a charming little 1920's vintage house in Detroit's near-'burbs and set about making the place our own.  In short: the best of times and this song ALWAYS... without fail... brings that place and time to mind.  Van could very well have been on the stereo when this pic was taken:

Ah, yes.  It was the best of times...

When All Else Fails... Post a Jet

What IS it with me these days?  It seems like our well has gone dry.  We're thanking The Deity At Hand for plane pr0n, which appears in my in-box from time to time and can be easily found on these here inter-tubes.  Here's one such from the Usual USAF Source, which appears in my in-box every week day...

Air Frame: An F-35A Lightning II from Eglin AFB, Fla., flies over Texas during an aerial refueling mission with a KC-135 Stratotanker from JB Andrews, Md., March 12, 2014. (Air Force photo by SSgt. Katie Spencer)

Nice jet, but one wonders what those sites on the ground are.  They don't look like houses; I'm thinkin' they might be drilling rigs.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack...

... is a re-run.  We're listenin' to the Graham Parker station on meTunes Radio this afternoon and the very first tune we heard was "Protection."  "How perfect," thinks I, "and what a good tune for the Happy Hour blog post."  Further rumination led me to believe we'd done this one before and we were right.  Like this:

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Tonight's ADWH Soundtrack

Graham Parker from Former Happy Days, i.e., 1979-80 or so...

So if you think that’s funny I’m not really laughing honey
Your love letters are confetti I ripped them up my hands were sweaty
And then those ghastly faces recur in nightmare places
Happy hour's come and gone much too short and much too long

This tune is yet another piece part of the soundtrack from my three-year sojourn in Ol' Blighty.  It's kinda funny-strange how the lyrics to any given song change meaning over the years, innit?  Apropos o' nuthin', this tune contains one of my favorite mondegreens.  Towards the end of the song when Parker sang...

It ain’t the knife in the heart that tears you apart
It’s just the thought of someone sticking it in, sticking it in

I heard "It's just Donna Summer, stickin' it in, stickin' it in..."  Ya gotta remember, that was 1979 and 1980.  Disco.  Oh, well... ya hadda be there.
Another from the same album (Squeezing Out Sparks, arguably Parker's best):

Without a doubt I gotta intercept
Must be time someone went shouted in their ear
You look all right in that cheap red dress
But every time you swish it round you make me disappear
Yes I’m aware of exactly what I’m doing
Making everything a mystery,
Don’t bother with it, it don’t bother me

Yeah, it don't bother me.  Right.

Well, it still doesn't bother me, yanno?  But I can't get no protection to this very day...

Slow Day

We've read all of the overnight correspondence... from which we usually take at least one item and turn it into a blog post... and we found there wasn't a whole helluva lot there.  But we need sumthin'... and this will have to do:

That's from the Usual Source of these things, of course.

Unusual Packaging, AKA More Cigar Art

We're in receipt of another one of those wonderful cigar samplers from cigar.com, wherein we broaden our horizons in the cigar department.  This sampler... billed as My Buddy Tim's "Best-Ever Sampler"... looks like this:

OpusX Lost City Robusto (5.25"x50)
Ashton ESG 20-Yr Salute Churchill (7"x49)
Montecristo White Toro (6"x54)
Don Carlos Edicion de Anniv. Robusto (5.25"x50)
Padron '64 ANNIV.Exclusivo Natural (5.5"x50)
Ashton VSG Robusto (5.5"x50)
Camacho Triple Maduro Robusto (5"x50)
Casa Magna Domus Magnus II Optimus (5.75"x52)
Oliva Master Blends III Robusto (5"x50)
Romeo by Romeo y Julieta Piramides (6.1"x52)
Camacho Corojo Robusto (5"x50)
Montecristo Media Noche Churchill (7"x58)
Cohiba eXtra Vigoroso 652 (6"x52)
Camacho Criollo Robusto (5"x50)
Diamond Crown Julius Caeser Toro (6"x52)
Graycliff Crystal (White Band) PG robusto (5.25"x50)
Partagas Benji Homage Toro (6.5"x54)
Camacho Connecticut Robusto (5"x50)

Once we're done with all 18 of these sticks we'll have fodder for another cigar band post... but that's at least a week or more away.  What we're on about now is the rather unique packaging on that Partagas Benji Homage.  Like this:

The cigar came wrapped in a single layer of thin tissue paper and was banded on both the outside and inside of the tissue wrapper.  Interesting, eh?  One wonders if the individual sticks come wrapped like this when you buy 'em by the box.  Or mebbe the sticks aren't sold "by the box," mebbe they're only available individually.  That wouldn't surprise me, as Partagas bills this cigar as a special release.

We only took a couple o' draws on this cigar while taking the accompanying photos, so now it's out to the verandah to continue as we've begun... with beer!

Update, 45 minutes later... We are disappointed; our example of the Benji Homage was a bust.  It's my habit to smoke my cigars in a leisurely fashion and by that I mean I take a draw every three-to-four-to-five minutes and let the stick idle in the ashtray in between draws.  A good cigar will allow you to do just that and such was NOT the case with this Benji Homage.  This cigar required constant touch-ups with a lighter just to keep it burning and further required constant  draws to keep it burning... which resulted in a way-too-hot smoke.  I gave up halfway through the stick and let it die in the ashtray.  What a pity.

Saturday: Pooty-Poot and the Mama of All Bears

Pretty clever.

Stoopid Human Tricks

So, there I was... lying back comfortably in my dental hygienist's chair yesterday while she went on about her bid'niz when she remarked "that's quite the cold sore you've got on your upper lip," or words to that effect.  "It's not a cold sore," sez I, "it's a self-inflicted wound," adding "I'll tell ya the story if you swear this will go no further..."  "My lips are sealed," sez she.

You long time Gentle Readers know two things: (a) I loves me my cigars and (b) I've been on full-time oxygen for about a year now.  Cigars are unlike cigarettes in that you can smoke the things right down to the point where they're short enough to burn your fingers.  Like about an inch or less in length, is what we're talking about.  A couple o' nights ago we were watching the hockey game and trying our best to get down to that very last drop of cigar goodness when I literally set myself on fire.  The reason?  I got a little TOO blasé about smoking my cigars while hooked up to the oxygen machine and the resulting fireball that enveloped my head when I took that last draw got my attention RIGHT quick.  The damage was slight... just a superficial burn on my upper lip and a small hole right in the center of my mustache, which combed right out and looked none the worse for wear.  It coulda been worse, as they say.  A lot worse.

So.  Lesson learned, the hard way.  You'd THINK a guy my age would be smart enough to know better but you'd be wrong.  We do now, though.

So now it's out to the verandah for a brew and a cigar.  Without the oxygen, thank ya.

From Where, I Wonder?

I saw this graphic today and it surprised me (from an article about ciggie smuggling in NYC):

Who'd a thunk lil ol' New Mexico is a large market for smuggled cigarettes?  Our per-pack tax is relatively low at $1.66, at least when compared to New York's $4.35, which does NOT include the additional tax levied by NYC.  I haven't bought ciggies in well over seven years now but I'm pretty sure our legal price is about eight bucks a pack or so.  Wait.  There's my answer!  Duh.

In other news... a late start today.  We poured our first cup at precisely 1159 hrs so I can say we got our day goin' before the crack o' noon, if only just barely.

Losses

I was curious about what was goin' on in the world on a certain day back in March, 1945.  There's an app for that... called Times Machine... but you need a subscription to the NYT to use it.  (Yes, I subscribe.  So shoot me.)  So here's what was up on that certain day:

You'll note I highlighted an article... and here it is in its entirety:

Unimaginable.  Over 20,000 lives and 2,050 bombers... lost.  The American public would never stand for those kinds of losses today.  Nevah hoppen, Gee-Eye.

Wherein We Visit Urban Dictionary Just to Be Sure We're Clear On the Concept

A definition of a girl who thinks she is awesome when she really isn't. Someone who is just being plain basic.

 

Guy: "damn did you see that brunette with those gorgeous blue eyes??"

Me: "oh yea that's Lana dude, careful though she's soooo BASIC."

Guy: "cant be too careful these days with them basic bitches around."

More definitions here.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack: Spring

As in: Spring has sprung.



My favorite concerto from Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" and aren't the images in that vid perfect?  Why, yes.  Yes, they ARE.  We just had to go there, seein' as how this is our view from the verandah today:

Greenery.  It's been a loooooong time comin'!

Well... I Never Really Thought About It...

... but thank you for explaining that to me.

And then there's this... the original art work for the cover of Mad Magazine in April of 1956:

Click to enlarge, of course.  How many of those characters and/or events can you name?  Here are a couple o' cheat sheets.  As for me, I was a mere ten years old in 1955 but some of those faces and events are familiar.  Like the Brooklyn Dodgers... another place, another time.  (Sigh)

H/t: to Hi Fructose Mag's Tmblr site.

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

More hippie music, from a group known as Captain Beyond...

Sufficiently breathless
Sufficiently breathless
Sufficiently breathless
Sufficiently breathless

Hearing and watching all the city sounds
On the street where we live
No one to care about us
Seems it´s falling down around us
Nothing left to live for
Nothing left to live for
Sufficiently breathless
Nothing left to live for
Sufficiently breathless on the street
Where we live

Well, now.  Those lyrics have significantly different meaning today than they did back when the album came out, which is to say 1973.  We weren't so sufficiently breathless back then, we certainly are now... in the most literal sense.  About which: no whining about self-inflicted wounds.

And now it's back out to the verandah where we shall continue as we've begun.

Ten Years?

Has it really been THAT long?  Well, I guess so.  From an article in Time:

Gmail's home page as it looked on March 31, 2004, shortly before the service launched

If you wanted to pick a single date to mark the beginning of the modern era of the web, you could do a lot worse than choosing Thursday, April 1, 2004, the day Gmail launched.

Scuttlebutt that Google was about to offer a free email service had leaked out the day before: Here’s John Markoff of the New York Times reporting on it at the time. But the idea of the search kingpin doing email was still startling, and the alleged storage capacity of 1GB—500 times what Microsoft’s Hotmail offered—seemed downright implausible. So when Google issued a press release date-stamped April 1, an awful lot of people briefly took it to be a really good hoax. (Including me.)

Gmail turned out to be real, and revolutionary. And a decade’s worth of perspective only makes it look more momentous.

I remember when getting an invite to join Gmail was something of a quest for techies and techie wannabees... and they weren't that easy to get.

Once it was clear that Gmail was the real deal, the invitations became a hot property. The limited rollout had been born of necessity, but “it had a side effect,” says Harik. “Everyone wanted it even more. It was hailed as one of the best marketing decisions in tech history, but it was a little bit unintentional.”

Bidding for invites on eBay sent prices shooting up to $150 and beyond; sites such as Gmail Swap emerged to match up those with invites with those who desperately wanted them. Having a Hotmail or Yahoo Mail email address was slightly embarrassing; having a Gmail one meant that you were part of a club most people couldn’t get into.

I don't remember when I got my invite but it was well into Gmail's first year.  There isn't a way (that I can find) to easily get to the first message in my in-box or sent mail folders (which have 7,893 and 14,960 messages, respectively)... which would tell me how long I've had the app.  And that 1GB of free storage?  It's grown to 15GB, of which I have only used 15%.   We loves us our Gmail.

The Time article is fascinating.  Read it.

What Every Self-Absorbed Hipster REALLY Needs

Yeah, baby.  Instant selfies, without the ol' extended arm in the pic.  How clever!

(No, it's not real.  More techie April Fools jokes here.)

Night Refueling Ops

Air Frame: A C-17 Globemaster III is guided into position behind the refueling boom of a KC-135 Stratotanker during a training mission near JB Pearl Harbor-Hickam, Hawaii, March 20, 2014. (Air Force photo by SSgt. Alexander Martinez)

I've seen very few pictures of night refueling until today, and none like the close up above.  How interesting (well, interesting to ME.  YMMV).

Today's Happy Hour Soundtrack

{sarcasm}

One of the things I love about rock 'n' roll is the sheer truth and profundity in the lyrics.  Case in point:

People come, people go
Some grow young, some grow cold
I woke up in between
A memory and a dream

So let's get to the point, let's roll another joint
Let's head on down the road
There's somewhere I gotta go
And you don't know how it feels
You don't know how it feels to be me

Brilliant, Tom!  That's right up there with "Louie Louie."  Nice video, though.

{/sarcasm}

In other news... we're out on the verandah at an early hour today, mainly coz it's really nice outside.  Like this:

Warm and breezy; what's NOT to love?  Rock on.

Happy Birthday, Number Nine

Gordie Howe turns 86 today.  That's the good news.  The bad news is he's battling dementia and we all know that's a losing fight.  Helene St. James, hockey writer for the Detroit Free Press, has a great article celebrating Mr. Hockey on his birthday.  An excerpt:

Gordie Howe never was one to sit around, and that hasn’t changed even as dementia roils his health. He turns 86 today, an event that will appropriately be celebrated in Detroit, because no city ever has celebrated Howe more. He reigned here as a local hockey folk hero for three decades, defining what it meant to be talented and tough.

Howe doesn’t come to Detroit a whole lot any more, because he cannot be on his own. He has spent the past four months in Lubbock, Texas — staying with his daughter, Cathy, and her husband, Bob — escaping the harsh winter that would have impeded his physical activity. The man who six decades ago dominated opponents in hockey remains a man who doesn’t like to be still.

I never got to see Gordie play... except on The Tube o' You... but I have a special kind of love for the man, like Wings fans, hockey fans, and most all Detroiters do.

Happy Birthday, Mr. Howe.