Friday, August 21, 2015

Louisiana Man

I was born in Baton Rouge.

Both my papa and my daddy worked and payed taxes.

They were productive members of society.

They provided for their families the best way they knew how.

They tried to be responsible citizens as best they understood.

Poor bastards. Have you ever been hungry?

Have you ever fished for breakfast? No fish, no breakfast.

Doodle bugs taste like salt lick.

The saying "it's better than nothing" applies.

And by daddy I mean the fella who paid my child support.

My papa was the man who loved my mom and took care of us.

The work ethic is ingrained in us from an early age.  You take care of your own either directly or indirectly.
Feeding your family is your job.  
We tend to eat anything that moves, or sits still.  I seem to recall it was more because we had a big appetite built up in anticipation of a big fish than because we liked to eat possum or armadillo.

For some rural kids seeing people outside your immediate family is rare.  Going to town is a celebration because it is an unusual event.  Directions to our house included the phrases "and then the highway ends, and then the black top ends, and after the dirt road ends."  

People say we talk funny and dress strange.

People are probably right. 

Monday, August 17, 2015

Chapter one

I am a product of your society. 
Let's start the beginning.
I was born. Of this I'm sure.
 I have documents proving it. I was born December 18, 1964.
The Wright brothers first flew December 17th 1903.
I think I was born an Airman.
My grandmother use to take me to the airport in Shreveport, Louisiana so I could watch the airplanes take off and land.
She had a Volkswagen beetle and would splash the mud puddles on the way. As far as I can remember I have been telling people " look airplane! "
Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. I have said I wouldn't mind getting Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The first word is post. That means the trauma is over.  The disorder is that it makes the person non-functional.

Now this second part is hear-say that is to say although I witnessed it I do not have confirmation or evidence.
My mother was heavily drugged during my birth. I was removed from her womb with forceps.  The medical device left marks on my head that looks like horns.
Or I was born with horns.
I think my dad joined the Coast Guard and moved to Alaska.

I wanted to join the coast guard but I was too short.
You have to be 6 feet tall to join the Coast Guard.
That way can walk to shore if the boat sinks .  Ha,ha.
That's my Coast Guard joke.
Those guys are awesome.
Most people are mad at them because they tell them to put a life jacket on.

JD taught me about life preservers. He threw me out of a boat. Way out in shark infested waters.  Then he told  me to swim to shore.
He helped keep the sharks at bay buy driving the boat around me at high speeds. The wake made it challenging for me to swim.
He would occasionally ask me if he had advised me to wear my flotation device while aboard his vessel.

He did.  I did not wear my flotation device.  That was stupid.  JD did not have time for stupid airmen.  If I drowned he would have to fill out paper work.  He hated paperwork.  I wear my flotation device.  He loved me.  I think he still does. 

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

God loves us

            I am sure God loves us.  He gave me working taste buds AND ice cream.  He gave me my wife and the ability to experience and practice LOVE. 

Sunday, June 21, 2015


            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


According to Women in Aviation International only six percent of pilots are women.  Many of my heroines are pilots. 
My first aerobatic instructor.

One of the most inspirational people I know is Jessica.

A good friend and wife of one of my PJ brothers

A mentor and local DPE

Another mentor and master instructor,_Different_Partner.html

It sucks to lose one. They are precious

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.