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Athens bound in a T-33 | Until now, I've never thought that my interest in flying machines was anything but a sidebar to the main story. Getting older has its moments, to be sure, but the bonus comes from the clarity it brings to the random walk thru life to get to this keyboard. In dusting off old albums for this little article, a pattern emerges from many disconnected undertakings. The things you imagined would be the major milestones have fizzled. Haphazard sequences and seemingly minor choices have turned out to have major impacts on where you are now. | Click here for more information...
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 | It starts out innocently enough. Things happen, you look for something interesting, especially as the days get shorter towards the fall. You surf the web using the navigation skills afforded by Google, and stumble across a wealth of stuff related to the model aircraft scene. A thousand choices, a million opinions, many seeming to conflict. Happy flyers, grouchy flyers, disappointed flyers, opinionated flyers.. the list goes on. You forge ahead in this brave new venture, and after many false starts to the end of the diving board and back, you finally take the plunge. You decide on a micro electric to fly around the house. Should be small and easy for starters. Such innocence and naivety is required if one is to do this at all. Sort of like having kids. You need to know nothing at the outset, or you would be seriously challenged to take on such an undertaking. Corona, Piccolo, Hornet, so many variables. I chose the Piccolo. Only 280 grams to manage, you reason. How utterly absurd that seems to me now. | Click here for more information...
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| The days are long and boring, those dog days of summer. He dreams of the ocean swim to come, that daily ritual that takes us through the park, past the noisy grey squirrel on the old cedar stump. For his part, Lord Duggan of Scottswood patiently guards our digs until the sound of tires roll up the driveway. The shadows begin to stretch from the trunk of the arbutus all the way across the back lawn. We shake the dust of the day from our collective shoulders. We're off for his swim, and we're both off duty. It's payback time for Duggan. |  | | Lord Duggan of Scottswood Place | Click here for more information...
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| The ocean of life, god bless it,ebbs and flows around us, sometimes drawing us in, other times, passing by. Happiness comes in waves, followed by the occasional rip tide that leaves the swimmer spent and empty, tired of the seemingly endless wear and tear from the pounding surf. |  | Click here for more information...
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