This does not happen very often, but when it does I take full advantage of, the condition is I had the situation of companionship of a real lady over night. Which is why I signed off the air early for last evening. Everything went smooth until about 04:00 hours, when I heard a curdling scream from in the bathroom. My lady went to the head and attempted to sit down, but apparently I forgot to put the seat of the commode down. Of course she forgave me, we got in the shower together and I wont go into details ,but that was a great way to wake up.
I remember that Mom used to remind me to put the seat down, and quite often from sitcoms we hear about this, but its never real until you experience this for yourself. It wasn’t to be mean or anything but if you are a male corpuscle living alone, you go through your normal routine and not think twice yet I didn’t even think of putting the seat down, but I will now. Hey this might turn into something so stay tuned. At least if I’m going to get screwed in Evanston, this way I can enjoy it.
This makes this weekend a bit easier on me, but its still sad. In March of 1983, my mom passed away. Mothers Day, is a honored day in my environment since my mom was the greatest of all , and this is not just my opinion. My Mom was on the design team for the landing gear that is under the C5A Galaxy Transport aircraft used mostly by USAF teams. More over my Mom single handedly designed the movable wings on the F1-11-A Fighter aircraft that system is now used on the F-18 Hornet and the F-15 Eagle. Mom was the leading go to person for many causes including but not limited to philanthropic needs. I can’t count how many of millions of dollars she gave. Her main one though is the reason I’m so vigilant on, in preserving and education of the history and culture of the south, mainly Confederate history. Born in Gilmer Texas in 1921 Mom never did have much college. She started at a cosmetic school in Pocatello Idaho, as a teen, worked at the Green T there as a hostess, as the big bands were trendy then, she could carry multiple dishes on her arm and not spill a drop, the Green T’s policy at the time, was if you spilt someone's food, you bought the dinner. Mom and her best friend Marge Goddard, saw a poster in front of a US NAVY recruiting office, went in and signed up. Several years later she met my Dad at the Alameda Naval Aviation Center in Alameda California and in 1947 married my Dad. Dad was a wounded US Marine Aviator then assigned in Flyte C of the original VMF214BlackSheep.
Mom was one who could irrigate farm fields with a shovel, plastic dam and siphon tubes, and she did all 400 acres of our farm then in Hazzard Idaho. She could make water dang near run uphill. She and Dad milked 150 head of cows, had beef cattle, Mom even barn broke the milk cows, hey I kid you not, a cow would come in get ready to be milked and think about going poop, mom would take a little riding crop and gently tap the top of their tail, and no poop. Of course there was that big bull we had named BIG JOHN, and he was Big. But gentle, that bull would stand guard in the field over me while mom would do her irrigating. He even got to the point through moms training to gently rock my buggy. Mom was amazing. Yet to date every year there’s something that keeps me from going and at least put flowers on Mom’s grave on Mothers Day, Memorial day or her birthday on the 28th of May. This year it’s a bad rear main seal on LiL Wolf and the General JaxSon being laid up with a bent crank shaft. Think I found a motor just waiting for a phone call. But getting back on course here. Mom was a fine lady, she is the measure I put on most women I meet. I don’t think I’m different from most guys, we all love our mother. Mom could look good dressing up for a dilatants ball for a Congressman which she did often, yet still look good in her coveralls and cotton shirt doing farm chores. There’s a ton of people in the Hazzard Valley of Idaho, that owe My Mom a debt of gratitude, even for their own survival. Including the Knytes. As it was Mom who first invested in the club, of some $500k to get it started. It wasn’t the public schools that taught me how to read and all it was my mom. The list could go on, but I’m working with tears in my eyes, this week so if I seem a bit distant understand I’m just remembering my Mom.
TTYLY
