Sunday, June 21, 2015

Fatherhood




            I am eternally grateful that I am a father.  I am very lucky to have a father and a pop.  My parents divorced early and I saw my father sporadically as I grew up.  He is a good man and always worked hard to provide financial support as I grew up.  I know I hurt his feeling tremendously when I changed my last name to Moss.  
Hank Moss raised me.  He loved me unconditionally even when I was an idiot and did not deserve love.  I lived with my grandparents until I was seven.  Soon after moving in with Hank and mom I was trying to be a good kid and washed the car.  I made sure I got all the bird poop off.  I used a brillo pad and took the paint off all the way down to the metal!  Hank did not lose his cool with me.  He really loved my mom.  He raised me with as much patience as anyone could expect from a human.  
When I was in the Air Force and getting my passport renewed they said that I could be in trouble for fraudulent enlistment since my birth certificate did not say Moss.  All of my school records, marriage certificate and other documents were Moss.  That is who I thought I was so I changed my name legally to match.  I wish my father would forgive me but I understand. 
Fatherhood is a different deal than being a daddy.  Fatherhood is responsibility.  Daddy is love.  Fatherhood is a duty.  Being a daddy is fun!  A “good” father is both.  My children are a product of the love I have for my wife. And she is my favorite human.  Thank God that I have been blessed with two wonderful men that loved me so much.  Please Lord let me be a good father to my children and a good husband to my wife.  I have friends who are orphans and did not know what it is like to have a family.
Happy Fathers Day. 

Sunday, June 7, 2015

Aviatrixes

According to Women in Aviation International only six percent of pilots are women.  Many of my heroines are pilots. 
My first aerobatic instructor. http://www.aceaerobaticschool.com/

One of the most inspirational people I know is Jessica.
http://ableflight.org/meet-the-scholarship-winners

A good friend and wife of one of my PJ brothers
http://sugarvalleyairport.org/KH_Scholarship_Application_Announcement_letter_March_2015.pdf

A mentor and local DPE
http://www.news-journalonline.com/article/20110419/ARTICLES/304199980

Another mentor and master instructor
http://flighttraining.aopa.org/magazine/2008/September/200809_Features_Same_Dance,_Different_Partner.html


It sucks to lose one. They are precious
http://gadfly01.blogspot.com/2015/06/barbara-harris-para-rip.html?m=1

Please forgive me for not mentioning all of y'all. 

Bad joke:
What do you call a woman pilot?
A pilot, you sexist. 

This is a multipurpose joke; insert race, gender, sexual orientation, nationality, religion or other in place of woman and the type of discrimination in place of sexist. 

Barbara would have laughed.



 

Sunday, May 31, 2015

When the janitor met the maid

One day a long time ago there was a janitor.  He worked hard and kept his nose clean for this was one of the few jobs he could get.
One spring morning he noticed the maid. She was beautiful! He would watch her arrive at work and he would watch her as she would leave.  Throughout the day he would catch glimpses of her but he was too scared to talk to her.  This went on for a long time.

One Monday they bumped into each other.
He said "Excuse me miss, pardon me miss."  as he stumbled over his feet which seemed to be in his mouth. She giggled and said it's OK. 
He said I notice you use Pine-sol rather than Lysol. She responded that she liked Pine-sol's scent but Lysol makes a great antibacterial spray that does not leave much of an odor. 
 He thought that this is the perfect woman for me and they spoke for hours on the benefits of various materials and methods, comparing notes.  Yeah, they kept notes.  Over the next few months and years they learned more about each other and a lot about cleaning.
One day...

Friday, May 15, 2015

Happy Mothers Day




When I was born I had visible horns.  I imagine that the doctor tried to reassure the gathered relatives that it was a “normal” birth.  I imagine my father loved me and said “This is too heavy for me.” joined the Coast Guard and requested Alaska.  He and my mother were divorced a few months later.  He paid child support until I turned eighteen.  I am every grateful for my father’s support.  He is my Daddy. 
My grandparents raised me while my mother was trapping another male to help care for me.  The man who stood up and married a woman with a wild child was wild himself.  He and my mother stuck with me through all the rough times.  I went to fourteen different schools before I graduated high school.
I was first arrested at age seven.  We were shooting flaming tennis balls from a rooftop at passing cars.  At seven it is not likely that I was the mastermind merely part of the gang.  We loved to run from the cops.  It was just like the movies.  We would leap from building to building and the “pigs” would not continue pursuit.  They just watched us and noted our path.  We used the same roof and escape path more than once and the police were waiting. 
My pop was mad at me.  He told me to “plan better” and pay attention.  My mother loved me.  That was San Jose, California.  I failed third grade.
We moved far from there to Desoto Parish in the swamp far from people and my mom and pop build a log cabin while home schooling me.  We were living in the back of a yellow Dodge Charger.  We would look up at the stars at night and bath in the rain. 
When I went back to pubic school we moved into the bustling metropolis of Gloster, Louisiana.  I thrived there.  I set the house and myself on fire many times. 
We burned our trash in 55 gallon barrels and when it was full we went to the dump.  I was dutifully burning the trash and experimenting with aerosol cans.  They were great fun!  I through some in and boom!  Being young and foolish I tossed some in and thought I had a dud.  I peaked over the edge and was met with a ball of flaming gas but that is a story for another day. 
My mother said “Never apologize for who you are.”  My wife said “Never be ashamed where you come from.”  My daughter said she was proud of me. 
I LOVE YOU MOM.  Thank you for sticking with me.  I am sorry for all the grief I have every caused you.  Thank God you are my mom.  Not all my friends have parents.
Not only am I blessed with an awesome mother I get to be married to an incredible woman that is an inspirational mom.  She inspires me to perform. 

My daughter’s marriage




            I am so proud of my daughter.  She is getting married…in a church.  This is the first church marriage in the Moss clan for a few generations.  Legend has that since we were excommunicated no one has been socially acceptable enough to pull it off.
            My lovely bride was nearly seven month pregnant when we were wed.  I was released early from work and my supervisor was my witness.  The witness is important because when people say “I don’t believe such a lovely woman would marry you.” You can then say “I have witnesses.”  Thank you Charlie
            We were married at the court house just outside of Clark AB, Republic of the Philippines.  I was in jungle fatigues and my wife in maternity biker attire.  I thought we were in trouble when the judge started shouting at my bride.  Judge Lansing knew my father in law who was a cop in Manila.  We had to get notarized permission to wed from our parents because we were too young.  After the interrogation and checking of paper we were wed. 
            Thank God for my wife.  She has been a blessing everyday.  I would probably be in prison or dead if not for her.  We have been blessed with two lovely children that inspired me to try to become a responsible human.  Our marriage has been nothing short of a miracle.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

The father of CCT



            I was honored to attend the memorial for the father of CCT.

Chief Master Sergeant Alcide “Bull” Sylvio Benni 15 Oct 1921-16 Apr 2015.  He arrived at Ellis Island in 1930 and joined the Army ten years later.  He was captured by the Japanese 7 Apr 1942 in the Philippines.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hc2m7Av3L5U
            After internment as a POW he was repatriated, joined the 82nd Airborne attended Pathfinder school and worked hard to make sure American forces would not again surrender.  He transferred the USAF and founded the unit that would become Combat Control and later Special Tactics. 
            He lived a full life after the military, he played saxophone and cooked up Italian cuisine with fixings from his garden.  I met his granddaughter, his brother, his daughter and her husband.  The Chaplin played and sang hymnals including ‘Amazing Grace’, ‘How Great Thou Art’, and ‘When the Saints Go Marching In’.  They invited people to speak and I said a few words.
            “The Battling Bastards of Bataan, no mama, no papa no Uncle Sam; I did not know the Chief personally.  He founded a unit that gathers all the bastards, orphans and mutants and organizes them to defend this nation.  My wife is from the Philippines.  The impact of one man ripples throughout the world.  We stand on the shoulders of giants.”

            It was evident that he feared God and loved his country.  After the family left I went back and knocked out memorial push ups.  The best leaders inspire one to try your hardest.  We will defend our kin to the death.  My brother from another mother still stands at the gates of hell keeping this country safe.  Many have fallen, more will rise.
I have lived the easy life.  Uncle Sam did not abandon me.  The Chief formed a team that grew.  I used to tie a knot in the string at the back of my beret for my fallen brothers to remind me of them.  It was an added bonus that it pissed the first sergeants in division off.  I quit tying knots at number twenty one. 
The experience as POW slave labor in the mines eclipses any hardship I can fathom.  I thank God that he lived.  At one time I wondered why my team leader was such a hard ass; later I understood that it was because he loved me. 

Monday, March 9, 2015

MLK day




            Many people can quote the start of his most famous speech “I have a dream…” but few people can tell you what his dream was.
            Last month on MLK day I flew with one of my good friends to Carthage, NC where we ate at the Pic N’ Pig.  He read one of the plaques which told of the story of  James McConnel who died in battle during World War one.  JP read it in French since that is where he was born. 
            The second plaque is written in Chinese and tells of Robert Upchurch who served and died as one of the Flying Tigers.  My second student of the day is from China.  I look forward to the day when I can call him my friend. 
            The ideas expressed in the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence ring as true today as the day they were written.  The blood of people paying for the fruition of those dreams has been spilled in many battles.  French blood supporting the rebellious colonies, Chinese blood against an invading force and American blood mixed in with both.  Our civil war was the bloodiest.  I long for peace and weep for my fallen comrades and thank God that I live in a country that states upfront “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”  The color of your skin does not matter; blood is red, what matters is how you live. 
            Live the dream.  Dream big.