If Ever Asked I Can Now Answer, "Why yes, I have flown in formation."

Saturday, October 24th, 2009 started out like many other Saturdays before it. Adam and I were planning a list of work to do around the house which began with a trip to the local Wal-mart to get Lupa a fresh supply of dog food. Adam sat in the driver seat, engine running and anxious to get on his way, as I bombarded him with a small list of items I had forgotten during my last supermarket excursion. Just as he caved and began writing down the items his phone rang.

I knew by the excitement in his eyes and the use of words like: "fly-in," "T-6," "Stearman," "What time?," "Right now?!" our day was not going to continue as planned.

I went back inside quickly and freshened up (since I was still in my jammies) while Adam followed me, excitedly devising the plan. I brushed my teeth and wiped at the mascara debris from beneath my eyes before grabbing my purse. I dropped Adam off at the airport so he could fly up with Levi (one of the jet pilots in training) in his Yak.

After I was ready I drove up to Robstown to meet him.

Just being there was quite an experience. There were a couple old World War II era planes, a few Cessna's, an RV4 (which belonged to Ryan, also a student going through jet training), Levi's Yak and a lot of other planes that I don't have names for. The people were awesome to talk to. Some were retired military, others flew as a hobby. All were really cool.

Adam introduced me to Ryan who offered to take me up in his RV4.

Levi took off in his Yak along with us and flew formation. It was the most incredible thing to look over and see another plane so close to by!

The last time I had been flying in a small airplane was on our honeymoon over two years ago. There was a guy on the island right before Key West that took us up in his Waco, an open cockpit bi-plane. He had done some mild aerobatics and left me terrified of small planes-and, more importantly, their pilots.

So I was pretty nervous going up. I begged Ryan to go easy on me and he did a great job of keeping me comfortable. We flew a few lapse over the small airfield before we broke formation. One wing dropped towards the ground and I got to experience about 3 positive G's as we descended. Okay, so most of the guys down here would laugh at that, but there has to be a first step!

We hung out there the rest of the day. Adam went up a number of times as "camera man" and Caleb had a blast watching the airplanes come in and out.

The other military wife, Carrie, that came up with me got to fly in one of the T-6's which I was very proud of her for doing so. I had only met her once before but already was aware of her claustrophobic fears while flying. I don't know if she'll go back up any time soon though. As they were flying a four plane formation over Corpus Christi, they ran out of gas which killed the motor causing them to start descending. The pilot (a retired military guy) worked fast to switch tanks and start the engine again. They made an emergency landing in Corpus and refuelled before heading back.

As the sun began to set, Adam left with Caleb leaving me to fly back to the airfield with Levi. The Yak was a few times bigger than the RV4 so it felt like a whole new experience. We each had our own parachute which Levi briefed me on. Though it was a necessary conversation, it was a little nerve-wracking hearing instructions on how to bail out.

We took off at the same time as Ryan and flew in formation back to the airfield where Adam was waiting. Here's a picture of the Levi's Yak. That is not me in the back.

After Ryan broke off we did some mild (in Levi's opinion) aerobatics. I honestly was so preoccupied with surviving that I really don't know what all we did. I know we went inverted a couple times and I definitely experienced both negative and positive G's, though he did try to stay away from the negative ones at my pleading. It was terrifying! But so much fun! He was definitely more aggressive but still kept it within reason. As he put it, "there's no one that doesn't want you to get sick more than the one who has to clean it up."

It was comforting.

Playing My Rockstar Guitar

The Rantings of a Good Housewife

A while back I was presented with this supposed excerpt from an article written and distributed in the 1950's as a "good house wife's guide." The woman that shared with me the article did so with complete disgust and scoffed at the "rules" that it described. I did not know this woman. I had gone on to base to get the tags on our windshield replaced and she was a random employee working in the building. As I was waiting for my tags to be printed out, this woman said, "listen to this!" and began reading the so called article. When I returned home I did some research on the article and found it many places, mostly on feminist blogs like below:

http://sylviagarza.wordpress.com/2009/05/06/1955-good-housewifes-guide/

Here is also a link to Snopes.com and what they have to say about it.

http://www.snopes.com/language/document/goodwife.asp

Beside the fact that it is most likely partially (if not completely) fabricated by those wanting to "make us feel better about how far our society has come" it still makes me laugh that feminists have to dig so far back and deep to try to scar men's character. I've found this article on so many feminist sites ranting about how ridiculous it is. Do they have nothing else to bring against men than a fabricated article (or at the very least taken completely out of context) written in the 1950's! Obviously different time periods had different standards of living and societal rules that were followed without much questioning. For the most part, it was what their mothers did and how they were raised. What they were raised to be and (dare I say) what they WANTED to be! (Side note: The divorce rate was A LOT lower in the 1950's than it is today. Here is a divorce rate graph from 1950 to 2000: http://www.bsos.umd.edu/socy/vanneman/socy441/trends/divorce.html)

Needless to say, it wasn't even the men demanding such duties from the women. It was other women. The moms. The grandmas. The elders who knew how to please their men and have happy marriages. On top of that (excepting a few lines in the article which were either Bold, highlighted, or circled in every version I came across to emphasize its ridiculousness) are these suggestions even that bad? I think if we as women more often went out of our way to make sure that our husbands came home to a clean house, dinner on the table, a fresh smile, and/or just an all around pleasant, welcoming environment, wives today would be much happier as well as the men. Men would want to come home. They would want to spend time with their wives rather than needing to "escape" the home life. There would be fewer men committing adultery. There would be fewer unsatisfied wives. There would be happier, more successful marriages and a lower divorce rate.


Both the man and the woman would be happier. Not just because of the satisfaction that caring for your husband brings with itself, but also because of how much that effort would alter the husband's affection and desire to love and provide for his wife.

Its marriage 101. When your spouses needs are met, yours will be in turn.

When I have a hot dinner on the table when my husband gets home, take his shoes off for him, kiss and hug him and greet him with a smile, he wants to give me the world in return! When I'm treating him the way I should treat him, he follows suite. And that goes the other way around too. Its not complicated, ladies. Our grandma's had it down.


I think another interesting fact to note is that we (whether we work or not) expect our husband's to provide some if not all of the family income. Even feminists would look down on theirs or a their girl friend's husband who was sitting at home all day while she went out and worked to provide for them.

You can't have it both ways. If you are going to set the bar and demand he provide, then shouldn't he have the right to demand a few things himself? Hmmm...

I've heard so many woman say that, "if my career was to become successful at some point and my husband and I decide to have kids, I would just make him stay home with them. Its your turn honey."


Okay so let me get this straight. He provides for you now. He had to work up from nothing and provide for you and your family while you get started doing whatever you want to do. And then when you become successful during the comfort and security of his job and hard work, you are just going to demand that he just stop what he has worked for and desires to do because you're ready to take over? No, really. That sounds like a recipe for a healthy marriage. I'm sure he won't resent you at all.

The same angry women that complain about some fabricated article forged to resemble the ideologies of the 1950's are the same women that would enforce the very same rules on their own husband's, given the chance. Can we have some consistency, please?


For better understanding, lets reverse the situation: John Doe has a wife (Jane Smith-she kept her last name, refusing to take his just because they married) who works at a major law firm in New York. John Doe has had some trouble getting his own business on its feet, so he is relying on his wife's income to support them both in the process. 10 years and a lot of procrastination later he taps into a good market and creates a very profitable business. The problem: they've just adopted two Indonesian children before Angelina Jolie could get to them. But that's okay; John Doe has a solution. Its a no brainer. He's successful now, so its Jane Smith's turn. She can drop her job, salary and desire to work (now not as worthy of notice beside his own success) and stay home with the kids - I mean after all, he's successful now, right?

I could feel feminists cringing as I wrote that. It looks so much worse from that angle, right? But, why? Shouldn't men get at least equal respect and consideration? I mean, that's all woman are asking for. Why should it be any different (since we're equal and all) that John Doe demand this of his wife (who has had the last ten years to work) just like some feminists demand this of their working husbands?


In the feminists effort to make themselves "equal" in their own understanding they belittled the men. And in doing so the image of men has been brutally scared. He has been emasculated, disrespected, made out to be the bully and the bad guy, but still forced to provide every bit as much as before, though given none of the respect or credit for doing so. We take at face value current Hollywood films and popular books that depict the past male generations (like men in the 1950's) as abusive, overbearing, condescending to women and their intellect, exaggerating stereotypes to make a point about the struggles women face against the "evil man." We are urged to believe that these depictions of male history are accurate. Examples may even be given or portrayed, but they are exaggerated, taken out of context and most importantly (when considering truly selfish and immoral men) presented as "normal."


But when actually researched in the context of the societal setting (like in films or books actually made in the 1950's), we find a healthy respect for women and (even more shocking when paralleled with today's woman) a healthy respect for men.

Unlike today, in the 1950's the majority of men were raised (and desired) to provide for their wives and the majority of women were raised (and desired) to, in turn, care for their husbands who provided for them. Women today are trained to expect that men provide for them but not trained to deserve it or even acknowledge it! The man's effort is taken for granted, belittled, disrespected and even scoffed at. It is even taken as a threat or a ploy to become superior over women. Do we not realize that we are the ones they are working hard to provide for, and we never even had to ask for it? As they support us financially we are given the opportunity to pursue anything we love or desire- career, education, children or hobbies. A chance that very few men ever get because they're too busy providing for their family. But we are refusing and even appalled at the idea of wiping the dust of a table before their return. Astounded at even the hint of being obligated to freshen ourselves up and plan a meal for his return. Disgusted at the idea of welcoming him home with a smile.

Are we out of our minds?

Instead society tells us to mock him for even suggesting that we needed his provision. After all, we can provide for ourselves just fine, so why should we thank him or show him respect for doing so? Instead we treat him as if he's holding us back. We demand and expect our husbands to do so much for us. But then we turn up our noses at the idea of giving them anything in return. We feel entitled to his provision and demand the opportunity to work - if we feel like it.

And then we wonder why the divorce rate is at 50%.

IHOP + Angry Employees = Strange Breakfast Experience

This morning began with Adam fulfilling a promise to take me to IHOP before leaving on an all-weekend, cross-country. We arrived at the IHOP around 9:00A.M. enthusiastic at the prospect of drinking coffee and gorging on extravagantly sweetened stacks of pancakes. It was as we expected. Wonderful.

But as we sat sipping the last of our coffee and discussing Adam's design for a four-seat aircraft with hovering capabilities, a commotion arose from the direction of the kitchen. At first it sounded like the typical bustling and talking that you might hear in a restaurant - only slightly louder - so, I didn't pay it much attention. Soon, however, Adam was listening more intently. I stopped whatever I was jabbering about (most likely the intake system and probability of sufficient air flow... or not) and listened as well. The noise coming from the kitchen had escalated into an obviously heated argument with one woman's voice overpowering the others. She was screaming and ranting with other voices mingling loudly with hers. It grew so loud and obvious that everyone in IHOP was focused on the kitchen with some measure of interest or concern.

Our waitress came to our table, obviously embarrassed, and joked that "somebody" was going to get fired.

Faster than it arose, the commotion died down to a barely audible hum and the atmosphere went back to normal. I assume "somebody" was forced to leave through the back door.

Though IHOP has had its fair share of strange occurrences, this one topped the list of ones I have witnessed. I was just glad at that moment we had already received and eaten our food. I know its selfish to think of such trivial things under those circumstances, but I would have been suspicious of any food that was prepared in such an emotionally charged kitchen.

And that would have been sad, for I so love their strawberry cheesecake pancakes.

A Few Things...

A few things have happened during my absence from blogging. There was, of course, Lady Redhawk Day. However, due to my husband's thoroughness in backing up family photos on an exterior drive (and my unwillingness to plug in a USB cable), I have only this one picture to document an entire day of the bliss I felt dressed in a Marine flight suit, practicing in legitimate military aviation simulators and sitting in fired-up T-45 jets. That's me in the middle with my Marine face on. (I swear I was happy.)

There was the repairing of a battery powered, John Deer tractor we picked up from Goodwill a few months back for five bucks. Caleb helped dad fix it. If sitting on the seat and pulling loose wires constitutes as helping. Either way, both dad and kid had fun fixing it up...

And both dad and kid had fun driving it around...

One evening there was a tandem bike ride down to the Star's Drive-in hamburger joint. Excepting the "Star's" logo on the sign, the place is a complete knock-off of Sonic's, menu included. It's as much as we can ask for here in Kingsville though. To have the real thing we'd have to trek 45 minutes to Corpus Christi. Nevertheless, the food was good and I treated myself to a Butterfinger Blast which Caleb greedily fought me for.

I don't know what sick power that child has over me, but he always seemed to get to the spoon before I could.

There was a random photo of Caleb's cuteness taken.

There was my daring venture to an unknown salon in Kingsville to get bangs cut. For real bangs this time. Not what the last stylist thought bangs were. They're fun, but they are hard to keep up with. I have to seriously saturate them with product and dry and straighten them into submission for them to look half decent. Even after all that effort though, it doesn't take much for them to rebelliously part in the middle or wave at the ends. It was worth a try though.

Here's a side view (for the necessary full effect).

There was a Saturday night spent with my little family at a dirt race track. It was fun and my first time experiencing such a thing. I now know where everyone I see at Wal-mart spends their Saturday night. And then Adam reminded me that we shop at Wal-mart... and we were there with them... Crap.

Caleb sporting some way-too-expensive-cause-daddy-gets-them-for-free-at-work earplugs.

He was obviously enjoying the race... And so was I.

I just couldn't resist thinking that one of them needed to break away from the same-old same-old and turn right.