Dave, Apologies for using the words "fauna" and "flora" when I should have been more specific. Actually, it would be more correct to say what I observe are the habits of ungulated mammals and the timing of autumnal changes that occur in deciduous forests with a syncytial root architecture (or, as you Southern boys might say, "critters and trees").
Dave: Scotty was an engineer - a working stiff. He would never have cussed at the captain. The fact that Bones did it, and not only that, called the captain by his first name, was one of those subtle little clues the scriptwriters slipped in to humanize things, give the viewers a sense of the bond between the two men -- and the elevated status of a doctor on board, which I hesitate to explain for fear that the doctor aboard our own little whs starship will get a fat head about it. Live long and prostate.
The motto of my clan, by the way, is "Hold Fast." And the story that goes with it is that one of my forebearers was wrestling a bull. This is what these people did for fun back when there was no tv. Crazy crap, like seeing who can carry the biggest rock around - which is still done, but not by me, when the clan gets together. Apparently I come from a line of people who are easily amused.
Anyway somebody watching this bull wrestling stupidity on the part of my great-great-etc.etc. forebearer -- whose name was probably Olaf or Grindle or something like that -- called out "Hold Fast!" to encourage him. And I guess that sounded like such a brilliant turn of phrase to the gathered assemblage that it got passed down through the genrrations and you'll still find it on the family crest.
Anyway: true story.
Now: Anybody else got stories about their distant ancestors?
Thinking of Captain Kirk and the crew reminds me of a fun memory.
While I was enjoying my 18 months of the easy life of a young Warrant Officer and fly boy in my comfy little cottage in Vinh Long, along the lush banks of the tranquil Mekong, we lived in rows (and rows and rows) of cottages ("hooches") that slept about 8 to 10 guys, with mosquito wrap around semi-open walls and those corrugated galvanized tin roofs. We had electricity and we had TV.
And as I mentioned earlier, the Armed Forces have a worldwide broadcasting network consisitng of both radio and television. They usually use the call letters AF (Armed Forces) followed by the letters indicating the locale, in our case VN (Viet Nam) - so our TV and radio stations were both "AFVN" (you remember, like in "Good Morning America"). We could dial up AFVN radio in our ground radios, or in our cockpits (on the FM radio only - and Cobra gunships had two FM's in the cockpit, so they could "cheat" during the mission and have one on our tactical channel to talk back and forth as needed, and at the same time - while it was quiet and boring (much of the time) - be listening to Jonny Rivers, the Byrds, or Tammy Wynette in their headsets. Imgine making a "rocket run" (diving down on a target at a fast rate - receiving automaic weapons fire - while listening to "McArthur Park" at the same time. Actually been there, done that on one of my days in the front seat of a Cobra.)
(technical note: If I recall correctly, the Cobras and the Hueys had 5 different radios in the cockpit, two FM's [frequency modulated], one VHF [very high frequncy], one UHF [ultra-high frequency], and another called a PRC-25 [popularly known as a "prick 25" - very short range, and used by almost every ground unit for short distance communication]. We liitle Loach brothers with far less room on our instrument panels and a need to avoid more weight, only had 4 - only one FM . We could transmit (communicate) on all of these, but the music was only on FM - so that was either / or for us. We only "cheated" while flying to and from the "AO" [Area of Operations], never while we were "down" in our search mission. Mind you, we could communicate on any on or all of these radios, but only listen to AFVN on FM.)
We were listening to the same music you were all hearing back home in the States. It was mostly Rock but there were times of the day when they switched to Country, and there were also a few specialized shows. One of those mid-afternoon shows was a pre-recorded interview from a guy in Hollywood who would have well-known female guests and play a few songs while he talked to them about their careers. He would always ask them for their measurements - not kidding (different times). I can recall a few of his guests from days off when I just left my radio on in my cubicle most of the time - Stella Stevens, Connie Stevens, and Marilyn McCoo come to mind.
But TV was a different kind of event. It was a group social affair. We flew only day time missions (one glaring two-week period of ridiculous night missons excepted), so we were all "home" at night. There were usually 8 in our "Scout" platoon ("Loach" pilots). We were all either young officers (First Lieutenants or Captains - "Boy Captains" we loved to tease them), or even younger Warrant Officers (like me). Our other platoons of pilots - "Slicks" [Hueys], and "Guns" [Cobras] also slept in their own Hooches and also had TV. One of our favorite distractions was watching a little TV at night (or during the day if you were "down" - a day off.
Over time we developed three common favorites that we all watched together (heck, only one channel, not much to disagree over). Those three were in reverse order, day-old Chicago Cubs games (mostly daytime and mosty me and just two other guys) and our two night shows, "LAUGH IN" and, you guessed it, "STAR TREK"! We would have eaten dinner by then and opened a few beers and needed to relax. Aside from our frequent re-telling the day's flying experiences (and laughing with and ateach other about it - a lot!), these two TV shows became almost an addiction. We loved "Laugh In", but I think the utter corniness of Star Trek made us laugh even harder. We sort of adopted many of their phrases and would sometimes use them in our airborne radio converations.
A new new helicopter unit arrived later with some new technology on board (nigth vision devices among them). They actually did use Star Trek call sings in the air and developed a communication banter with the airfield tower that could get kind of funny if you were tuned to the airfiled control tower frequeny yourself (landing or taking off) and could listen to the other ships. Instead of something like "Vinh Long tower this is Comanche 322, hover check complete, waiting takeoff please", it would sound like, "Vinh Long tower, this is Starship 441, hover check complete, ready to 'beam up' please". And the tower would play along with "roger Starship 441, you are clear to Beam at this time." And Starship would respond, "Thank you Vinh Long - Beaming Up at this time".
While I am on the suject of AFVN TV, two other clear memories come to mind.
The first is a kind of funny (inside joke for Vetnam Vets) public service anouncement, of which there were many, But this one was played so often that no one could forget it. It was Carlos (correction, Ricardo) Montalban, standing in the studio in Saigon, holding up a captured AK-47 and making an emotional plea with that strong accent, "Please my friends, don't deal in stolen enemy weapons". Years later, every time I saw "Fantasy Island" come on our TV at home, the picture of this guy holding that weapon came to mind.
Another was one of the occasional evening live shows direct from the Saigon studio. One of those that sticks in my mind so clearly was Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel, doing a live performance. One stood while the other sat on a tall stool, in a bare naked studio with totally black background and just lighting on the two of them. They sang live and I will never forget that particular rendering of "To Emily, Wherever I May Find Her". It happend to be one of those times when I was feeling quite lonely. That memory of that song almost gives me chills to this day.
And Mike, I was told that one of my great great great gandpas or uncles (?) was a John Smith, who was from Vermont or "New Hampsha" and was a Captain in the Minutemen.
Oh almost forgot, my mother's, mother's sister in law (or step-sister?) was Jack's great Aunt Annie Nicklaus. Mom met 13 year-old "Jackie" at Great Aunt Annie's funeral.
Dave – Such great and detailed memories you have. You always astound me. What a priceless image you created for us with you flying into danger while Richard Harris was ridiculously belting out, "Someone left the cake out in the rain / and I don't know if I can take it / 'cause it took so long to bake it / And I'll never have that recipé again / Oh no! .. Oh no!" Somehow I think maybe you had more serious concerns on your mind at the time than the sadness of seeing "sweet, green icing flowing down." Good Lord, that's a stupid song.
Also, I think you meant to say Ricardo (not Carlos) Montalbam, no?
Speaking of music from the sixties, I saw a play this weekend, that you fellow classmates might want to check out if comes anywhere near you – Ain't Too Proud, which is the story of the Temptations. I was not a big fan of similar productions, that are often disparagingly referred to as Juke Box Musicals, even when they were big hits like Jersey Boys, but my oh my, this Ain't Too Proud was one terrific day at the theater. The music, of course, was completely infectious, and the choreograpghy was amazing (probably far more elaborate than the actual Temptations used to do, but they were certainly no slouches as the video below will attest), the staging was fabulously inventive, and the actual story line of these individuals was absolutely compelling. So be on the lookout.
Here's a taste of what the actual Temptations were like, in case you have forgotten, but I doubt that would be the case. Who could forget them? I would venture to say, not many who are our age.
Is Mitchell for real? Dave, save us, you're the only one who can. Slow down man. Try some meditation. Or you can sit in the dark and stare into your soul. It's exhilarating and brings context to life. I have to say I'm impressed with the incredible volumn of information you have generated on this site. Has it always been your life's goal to learn everything and experience everything there is? Ambitious doesn't do justice to what you have accomplished, heard, read, seen and done. I'm exhausted after reading one of your short posts. Dude you're amazing, and I want to have your baby. What's your secret? How did you find the time to do all that you've done. You make me feel lazy. I am, and a bit proud of the fact, that I'm the Baron of boredom. I should have guessed it though. I remember sometimes walking home from school and watching you run up the hill on Yaronia with weights strapped to your ankles. Since you weren't on any sports teams, it always confused me. Why would anyone do that? Now I know. I think it is the self-starter, different drummer in you. Only you don't march, but rather, run, uphill. Someday you may make it to the top. I'm in awe. I nominate you "raconteur" of the class of '66.
This is off the beaten path of conversation, but I was wondering if anyone has any idea how to get in touch with Leslie Casparro? Thanks, Kathy Wintering 9-4-18
I don't know about you but the desktop backgrounds on my computer that come with Windows operating systems get a little boring after awhile. For the past several years I prefer to take my own photos and use them and change them every so often. My main criteria is that I have to be able to easily see those many icons that overlay whatever picture I choose. With aging eyes this requires some work. So, I search hard for wide open pastoral scenics that will allow those icons to "pop" but are also somewhat soothing and not filled with psychodelic colors and shapes or pictures of places that I have no idea where they were taken.
Below are two that I have recently used that seem to fit my demands. I would be more than happy to send one or both to any of our classmates who want to use them as a background (free of course), since I don't know if you can do that from this Forum post. Just put a message on the Forum or a personal message to me with an email address and I'll send them as an attachment to you.
You can attack my religious views, and you can disagree with my politics, and you can cheer for that "little school up north" if you want to, but McAarthur Park is one of my all-time favorite songs! (Even if Richard Harris can't sing on key much of the time.)
So don't you step on my blue suede shoes man!
**However, you may proof read every single thing I write - Yes it was "RICARDO" - thank you sir. I must have had a bat fly into my mouth while I was typing that.
---------------
And Jack,
I guess I just love to write.
And I CANNOT believe you would remember the ankle weights! (I had no idea anyone ever saw me)
It was all about skiing, one of my three passions in life - Skiing, Flying, and Building (replaced later in life by eating, sleeping and putting the toilet seat down). I played one year of JV basketball in sophemore year, but reaized that was keeping me from skiing more than any other year of my life (and had no future potential - whatsoever!). Four times around our Yaronia/Overbrook block was almost exactly 3 miles, with that long Yaronia hill at the end each time. I may share the end result on some future post.
p.s. Jack (or Tim or anybody else) do you remember the afternoon "starlet" interviews from Hollywood? Or the song that came on every afternoon at 5:00 as AFVN switched from Rock to Country?
Hint, same song every day at 5:00 - big blonde hair (a Country "cult classsic")?
Jim, you've got my e-mail. Both photos are gorgeous but I would be happiest with the bottom one...I love the water there and whatever the tiny white thing is.
Dave...only officer pukes got to watch TV in VN. Remember thd first time you called a sergeant "Sir" and he yelled, "Don't call me 'Sir,' boy, I work for a living!"
Okay Jack, now you got me started again. Here's the answer to my quiz above. But first; setting the scene.
Moc Hoa, near the border of Cambodia (about 30 minute flight back home to Vinh Long for the night)
Your AMC (Air Mission Commander of the day) says your done - let's go home. It's been a long day - circling for two hours at a time, for two or three turns (while the other team sits on the ground waiting to trade 2-hour sorties with you - from early morning till now).
You are a "Loach" pilot with a "day off", or so you thought. This means you WERE schedulted to have a day off, but they stuck you in the front seat of a Cobra this morning because those guys have to put up more flight hours each month and they keep hitting their monthly maximum. So they need to be given a few extra days by anyone else in the Company who can spare the hours. And you "Scout Platoon" pilots put up fewer hours, so you get "volunteered" to fly "front seat" (co-pilot) for the guns every now and then. You are not "checked out" in Cobras (that special few who get to go to "Cobra School" after flight school graduation). Only a "Cobra qualified" pilot sits in back and he is the A/C (Aircraft Commander - "PILOT"). He has the roomier seat, and the full sized controls and instrument panel in front of him. He also controls the rockets which he fires from the stubby little wing pods.
You are just the co-pilot and you're just there to ride along and take the stick when he needs to relax for a while, and to fire the front mounted "turret" min-gun which you can aim and swivel back and forth - and grit your teeth when you have to fire it becaue it makes that awful deafening solid roar firing at 6,600 minute! .
You are down in that tiny little squeezed front seat with much shorter (and more sensitive) cyclic and collective controls and a much smaller (simpler) instrument panel. It's a bit tricky to fly from this front seat but you deal with it. The more carefull A/C's don't let you land or take off (usually) - just straight and level flying once you're up. And did I say "SQEEZED"? No wonder these "guns" all wear a mafia typle shoulder holster for their pistol - I'm wearing my revolver around my waist (as usual) and it's almost cutting a hole in my hip by the end of the day - OWW! And that damn "chicken plate" (bullet proof bib - 14 hard, rigid pounds) is really weighing on your thighs. Tough luck if you picked out a "large" sized chicken plate that morning because those bigger ones slip down on your lap and your legs go to sleep in about the first 20 minutes - and it's all yours for the entire day.
Everybody is getting on board all 13 ships. Pilots, door gunners, crew chiefs - all ready to go home. But before you all crank up, the last team out in the rotation has to refuel before you head home - a fligth of only about 30 minutes - but this is almost always the proceedure before departure. There are only four of those huge rubber refueling bladders at Moc Hoa (and four pumps), so your A/C (back seat) noses in to one of the bladders spread along the ground and you jump out to man the hose and pump your tank. It takes bit of time - these are fairly large tanks.
You're all filled up and ready to go. You climb back in to your seat and your A/C lifts sowly, to a hover watching carefully who is next to you. Remember from flight shcool, meshing helicopter rotor blades is not good for your health. This can be a tricky moment - easy to cause an accident - a BAD accident! As all four ships pick up to a hover, the rotor wash is blowing dirt and sand everywhere, huge clouds of it and you lose your vision. Your ship keeps easing back slowly, hovering backwards - as do the other three ships in a relatively close space - careful - oh that's right - you are not at the controls. You grit your teeth a bit - you're trusting your buddy in the back seat (* and you thought teaching your teenage son to drive was nerve wracking!).
You are all clear. All 13 ships are at a hover and your AMC calls out to the flight to take off and head home. And the moment you beagn to hover back from the fuel bladders, your "back seat" flipped one of the FM radios over to AFVN - precisely at 5:00 (this is an exact memory for me onmore than one occasion). The country usic DJ comes over the air with this same song - day after day always that first song on the evening County Music program;
Nice garden and picture on the Home Page! Are you going to take that Monarch Butterfly back to Mexico with you for the winter or let it migrate with it's friends?
Dave -- Once again you astonish me with the amount of detail you seemed to be able to pull effortlessly from your fifty year old memory bank. Great post.
I suppose that you might be grateful that when 5:00 PM rolled around you were only greeted with Tammy Wynette's voice, and not the video you posted. My guess is that her mile-high cotton-candy hair and red sequined self parading across a country-rustic front porch might have been too distracting for you pilots. But perhaps I am wrong. I apparently guessed wrong about your opinion of MacArthur Park. Help me out here, since you say this is one of your all time favorite songs, perhaps you could explicate this a bit for me. I understand that the singer is heart-broken because someone left a cake out in the rain, and he'll never have that recipe again-- that makes perfect sense, in a totally nonsensical way. But what in the world is going on in the opening verse:
Spring was never waiting for us, girl It ran one step ahead As we followed in the dance Between the parted pages and were pressed In love's hot, fevered iron Like a striped pair of pants
Does one chase after or follow Spring, which refuses to wait? If the youngest season, Spring, is one step ahead, metaphorically speaking, where is the speaker, in some sort of pre-pubescence? That can't be right. And is being in a dance like being pressed in a commercial laundry's ironing machine? And is it significant that the metaphorical pants are 'striped"? That must have been one overly-clutching, squeezing dance they were doing. It reminds me of WHS sock-hops where the nuns would hover and tap us on the shoulder if we were judged to be in too much body contact. I remember getting one of those shoulder taps, and in my defense, I can definitively say I was not wearing striped pants.
I'm afraid you are waaaay over my head here buddy. But thank you kindly for laying off of my blue suede shoes.
I think IF we had seen the video of Tammy's hair, we might have all been more frightened than if it were an AK-47 pointed at us.
One of my big disappointments in life was driving by the real McArthur Park in LA. I thought it would be a really special place - a big deal. It wasn't.
And one more terribly importaint thing - it was either a Temptations or a Four Tops world. I saw the light and was a Four Tops guy. Those of you who fell into "Temptation" will be cast into Gahenna and will endure the wailing and the gnashing of teeth for all eternity - I say unto you!
