Far From Home in General

Far From Home

Granted, I wasn’t on the ground in Bosnia, Iraq or Afghanistan. But I was there.

There is a weird switch that you flip, and then there is nothing but the job. Plan, brief, gear up, man up, start up and fly.

There are no parents, wives, girlfriends, bills. Just the task in front of you.

The strangest thing. For the strong, without exception we would go do it again. And then there are the weak.

I can’t imagine what the ice bucket challenge, tide pod challenge, snort a condom challenge generation does with stress. There is no safe place in war.

I made it to the pointy end of the spear just as the cold war was coming to an end. We knew that if the balloon went up we were unlikely to come home.

The hubris of youth. We flew World War III in the simulator. Dozens of times. Against odds that we would probably never encounter. The fucking Russians couldn’t even get one Sovremenny to sea, let alone three.

“Vampire, vampire, vampire.” Words that still make my blood run cold. A sea skimming antiship missile. I never want to be on the weak side of a fight.

I’ve been up since 3am. Holidays mess with my sleep cycle. Because I don’t tend to eat heavy except on holidays.

I took a nap on Easter afternoon. And then the sleep rollercoaster begins.

I watched an episode of “The Terror” which so far is pretty good, as long as you watch on DVR so you can fast forward through all AMCs commercials.

I’ve been working my left hand, the one I shoved into the snowblower about 8 years ago. I’ve gotten some pressure sense back, so I decided to tune up the Ibanez and see what I can do.

I cannot tune that guitar to save my life.

Well it has been 8 years. Probably need new strings.

Talulah Riley. My current infatuation.

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Last updated April 03, 2018