Up, Up and Away

The Outer Banks from way up high in sky

Odd as it may seem, there's something liberating about being confined in a steel tube with 170 other sneezing, coughing, belching humans (not to mention screaming munchkins), cruising along at about 500 mph,  35,000 ft. above precious terra firma.  Every instinct in your body tells you you should be dropping like a stone.  Or, better still, you never should have been able to leave the warm embrace of the runway in the first place.  It just doesn't make sense…two oddly shaped metal surfaces, protruding from each side of the tube,  have the mystical power to actually LIFT prodigious amounts of weight far into the sky.  No way. Yet, way.

But I must not dwell on that.  Actually, I do love flying, with one exception, not including the process of actually getting to the plane.  I would kick about 1/3 of the passengers off the aircraft, so the rest of us could enjoy some breathing room.  There's just too damn many people squeezed into these things, plain and simple.

On my trip to Florida recently, I flew directly over the Outer Banks (See "My Unvisited Gem" - 3/13/14).  As luck would have it, it was a cloudless portion of the ride, and I could actually contemplate life and love, past and future, hot fudge sundaes, lobster rolls, golf swings, favorite movies, bucket lists and other fancy stuff, as I dreamily cast my eyes upon the vast landscape far below.  Millions of people within the scope of my vision, all with their own little trials and tribulations, all traveling their own road this day, a fair number of them also pondering the ultimate meaning of it all.  In a carefee moment, I was left to reflect on the fate of my fellow earth mates, before clouds secured the scene and all context for thought was removed.

Ah  yes, back to the OBs. How impressive they appear,  a seemingly unbroken line that protects the mainland shore from harm, while providing people a get away to paradise.  In a way they resemble  nature's containment boom, like the ones used to protect land from the ravages of an oil spill.  So much sand, so many miles to walk, so many wonderful miles.

Looking at them makes you wonder  how they got there in the first place.  Seems like they were perfectly formed for their purpose, which leaves out any idea of a random piling up of broken sea creatures and rocks.  The same elements that deposited the Cape (Cod, of course) in its unique position and prominence also worked their logic and magic to form a perfect blend of utility and beauty, all for our protection and ultimate enjoyment.  Like the Cape, they will one day disappear, but luckily for all of us, that day will never be a concern of ours.

So, if you can't make the Cape, head for the Outer Banks. Revel in beauty.  Enjoy the moments, memorize the views.  Walk the sand, drink in the salt breeze.  Promise to return.  You don't have your whole life, you just think you do.
                                                                                                                                                                                         
Mark Twain Quote:  "We despise all reverences and all objects of reverence which are outside the pale of our list of sacred things.  And yet, with strange inconsistency, we are shocked when other people despise and defile the things which are holy to us."

Global What the…?

I recently returned from Florida, against my most instinctive judgment.  I awoke my first morning back, looked out the window, and saw…….snow falling.  In Spring.  In good old Syracuse.  Betting this a fluke, an aberration to my senses, I put on my happy Florida face and a mere 6 days later, traveled to Buffalo to see my daughter.  I swear I could smell flowers blooming and hear jubilant birds finding their voice once again.

 

Syracusans gone mad - March 2014

Thus I woke, on my last day there and saw….snow falling. Sideways. Lots of heavy, wet snow.  In Spring. In good old Buffalo. A mini blizzard.

Ah, Spring.  What I would want to write at this exact moment I can not. I know not the limits of the blog host, but I am afraid I would severely test them.  I might even be thrown off and asked never to return again.  Such is the fire in my pen and the rancor in my heart. I am way beyond “had it.”

So, here’s some stolen material to hopefully bring some sense of life back to the world, at least that part of the world hiding in the northeast United States. Stuff you probably don’t know, or even care about. Whimsical stuff, odd stuff, who cares stuff …. stuff to get our minds back to normal.

 

First mowing of Spring in Syracuse, NY

Men can read smaller print than women; women can hear better.

Coca-Cola was originally green.  (Uck!)

State with highest % of people who walk to work:  Alaska (well, when you don’t have roads)

Percentage of Africa that is wilderness:  28%

Percentage of North America that is wilderness:  38% (seriously..check that)

Cost of raising a medium size dog to the age of 11:  $16,400 (worth every penny)

Average number of people airborne over the U.S. in any given hour:  61,000

San Francisco cable cars are the only mobile National Monuments.

Only two people signed the Declaration of Independence on July 4^th.  John Hancock and Charles Thomson.  The last signature was added 5 years later.  (The mail was awfully slow then)

Half of all Americans live within 50 miles of their birthplace.  (I’d check that one again)

 

The calendar says Spring - I'm going in!  Or maybe not!

In ancient times – for a month after the wedding, the bride’s father would supply his new son-in-law with all the mead he could drink.  Mead is a honey beer and because the calendar was lunar based, this period was called the honey month, which we know today as the Honeymoon. (There are so many directions this could go in – ain’t love grand?)

England gave us many things, these two highly ranked among them.  In olde England, ale was ordered by pints and quarts.  When things got unruly, the barkeep yelled at people to “Mind your pints and quarts, and settle down.”  Hence the saying:  “mind your P’s and Q’s”

Back to the olde pub (why not, after this winter).  Pub patrons had a whistle baked into the rim or handle of their ceramic cup.  When they needed a refill, they used the whistle to get some service.  “Wet your whistle” is the phrase you’re thinking of for modern day use.

 

Spring fishing on Oneida Lake - 2014

If you were to spell out numbers, how far would you have to go until you would find the letter A ?  One thousand!

And last, but not least, an old favorite:  It is impossible to lick your elbow.  (and you all know this because you have all tried to do just that – but if you’re Gene Simmons, maybe, just maybe)

Mark Twain Quote:  “April Fool – this is the day upon which we are reminded of what we are on the other three hundred and sixty-four.”