Ripley, for his fans everywhere

Ripley the beagle boy, has taken over "the office" and made it his room. No longer need his daddy to be sitting in the Bark-o-Lounger for him to jump up there, he now stakes out this chair as HIS own. Ripley however has bonded so well that he cries whenever I leave the house, and turns himself inside out when I return. Dog's apparently have no real sense of time, so being gone for five minutes or five hours, the risk is the same that my boy Ripley will voice his joy when I return. Otherwise, he's a fairly quiet beagle, which after five female beagles appears to be the exception to the rule. Every one of my beagles over the past forty years has maintained a distinct personality, and I've loved them all - this guy is special however, and I'm so glad he's always happy to see me. He still sleeps in his crate at night, but certainly enjoys a snuggle in bed with us when we let him out, before the day begins with a walk on the leash while the coffee brews.

Fantasy of Flight Video

Several weeks ago, I wrote about the need for a tripod, so my camera handling would be smooth. Naturally, once I got one, I forgot to take it with me when I visited Fantasy of Flight in Polk City, Florida. However, I do offer this clip as my best effort to be a human steady-cam, and it does capture the majesty of this veritable war bird, the P-40N Warhawk.

P-40's were probably the front line fighter of the late 1930's, and were flown by multiple allied air forces during the war. They served in China (most famously with the American Volunteer Group or AVG), Africa, the South Pacific, Russia and to a lesser extent Europe. This P-40 was manufactured by the Curtis company, and was a two passenger model, but was as equally armed as the one seat version. This one, of some 15,000 manufactured, was probably used stateside as a trainer, for those pilots completing advanced training, but not yet comfortable with solo flights right off the bat. In combat areas, it often would be used to fly senior officers where unarmed transports were considered imprudent (never take a knife to a gun fight). My father served in the CBI (China Burma India) theater of war, much later than the AVG which was actually disbanded in 1942 following Pearl Harbor - half its pilots returned to the states, the others took Army Air Corps commissions and continued flying. By the time my daddy was flying supplies across the Himalayas to General Chiang Kai-Shek, Japanese Zeros were not as plentiful and threatening - ergo I am here today because he wasn't shot down in his twenties. He did manage to log 136 missions flying C-46 and C-47 aircraft before the war ended.



Kermit Weeks, the owner of this plane (and the other 39 flyable aircraft at this large private collection air museum) brought out the P-40 for the day's flight. Every day he flies a different aircraft, and he owns several P-51's which arguably was the last great fighter plane of the second war [on our side]. My prior blog spoke about Mr. Week's PBY, and B-17, and some still shots of this P-40N. Since it takes an interminable amount of time to actually "load" videos to the blog, I won't include some shots of low level passes by this same aircraft, but suffice to say that Kermit Weeks puts on a good show for twenty minutes or so. He also spoke of his dream to make Fantasy of Flight a place where people could see their own potential. Of course it helps if your grandparents made enough money in the oil patch to help one's potential come through.

One final though to share, and that would be flight has always offered us freedom to go beyond the mundane and everyday earthly existence. Going up in an aircraft truly does allow us to slip the surly bonds of earth, reach out and touch the face of God.

Fantasy of Flight

Yesterday, I went TDY to a PBY, traveling with my Corvette Club to Polk City, Florida to visit Fantasy of Flight. My "TDY" (temporary duty) was all day long, and a great way to spend a day. Fantasy of Flight is perhaps the world's largest PRIVATE collection of aircraft, featuring no fewer than forty flyable examples from the first and second world wars. It is the dream of Kermit Weeks, who owns everything on the field, and flies everything he owns. The day I visited with the Gulf Coast Corvette Club, we saw Mr. Weeks fly the P-40N, which is a two-seat WW II fighter plane that served throughout the second world war with distinction. Kermit has two of these, and the other one wears the livery of the AVG (American Volunteer Group), better known as the Flying Tigers.

There was so much to see, and our group convoyed from Bradenton to Polk City arriving around eleven, and stayed until closing at 4 PM. With help from a childhood friend who joined us as #15 (allowing us to qualify for group discount), we took advantage of the full package including guided tours. The facility features a 5,000 foot landing strip, as well as a nearby lake where amphibians like the PBY Catalina can land and take off on the water. The PBY is low and slow, but was the primary search and rescue aircraft of the Navy during the war - perhaps the most famous PBY was "Strawberry 5" which spotted the Japanese carriers at the Battle of Midway. My buddy took my picture with Mr. Weeks alongside the P-40N as well - my profile isn't too flattering, and I'd never fit in some of the stuff there. Take for example a "ball turret" from a B-17, as pictured. Our tour guide reminded us that during the war, B-17's would often feature 22 year old pilots (referred to as "the old man") and crews made up of 18 and 19 year old youth - the smallest of which became top turret and ball turret gunners. I wouldn't have fit in that thing, even as a 19 year old when I entered the Air Force.

The B-17 (a non-flyable exhibit) in another picture was a great "walk-through" with narrow passageways in the bomb bay, and gun positions at the waist, top and ball locations. I took quite a number of pictures, and perhaps should offer a second entry later - for now these will have to do, as often I have more words than space in my life's vocabulary - add pictures and I'm one giant tower of babble.

Ripley meets Beasley Crenshaw

Ripley and I were coming back from the post office today, and we saw a nice couple walking another Beagle, so Ripley said "Dad, let's meet that other beagle", and naturally I was disposed to follow his instructions. As it turns out, Beasley was another rescue, but from mid Virginia, where he lives with Linda and Carlton Crenshaw. They visit our island for several weeks every year, so Ripley wanted to spend some time with his new buddy. I walked down to meet this couple, then asked them to take a picture of Ripley with his daddy, and Beasley with his.

Beasley is a "forever" name, as Linda said his rescue name was not their choice. I said that Ripley prefers his forever name over his TBBR assigned name. Both boys were pleased to meet each other, did all the requisite sniffing and checking out ID (remember, dogs carry their identification in their back pockets). I wish we could have turned them loose to play, however they ARE beagles, and beagles need to be kept on a leash, lest they capture a scent of a squirrel and be gone.

Ripley hopes he can see Beasley again at least once or twice - Beasley is very handsome as well, and the Crenshaw's who have also had multiple beagles told me one in ten beagles born comes in the color scheme of only two colors - Ripley, being a tricolor beagle is more common. Ripley says "I'm not common, I'm exceptional!", and his daddy is inclined to agree.

Doing The Most Good

About that jacket, it's an official Kiwanis blazer, complete with the Kiwanis "K in the circle" logoed fabric lining. I am a sucker for $99 blazers, and picked this up at a Kiwanis Zone Conference. I never have much opportunity to wear it however, so today it went on my body as I joined fellow Kiwanis member Martin Bobzien accept an award from the Salvation Army.

Doing The Most Good is a service mark (SM) for The Salvation Army, and from the kettle in the picture, you can figure out what our Kiwanis Club of Longboat Key was doing from Thanksgiving to Christmas Eve. I'm holding the 2010 Red Kettle Award, but Martin is holding the real accomplishment - a silver bell inscribed with the "highest kettle receipts" recognition. Martin is our club Kettle Chairman, and he is the driving force behind our club's work in support of this annual giving campaign on Longboat Key. Dr. Bobzien lives in a Frankfort, Germany, suburb but he spends the cold months in Florida. He's a retired Dupont engineer, and has served in Europe, Iran, and America, and is one of those guys I look up to in Kiwanis. The project wouldn't come off half as well without Martin's work. While he has, from time to time, co-chairpersons, he is the constant in our club's success. Somebody doesn't show up for their shift, there is Martin. He is a classic example of what Kiwanis is all about, serving others.

The program today recognized the many churches and civic organizations that raise funds for the Salvation Army, and was very inspiring. Martin commented on how American clergy were so "dynamic" as opposed to those in Germany. I asked if Germany had television evangelists, and his answer was no. Apparently the message is shaped by the medium after all, but all who spoke (including a Sarasota Police Captain who quoted scripture about the needy) were compelling. The Salvation Army programs apparently are one reason why fewer folk were in jail this past year - the cops were doing their work, but the recidivism was down dramatically due to counseling and help from this wonderful organization.

The Longboat Key Publix supermarket is the location of our town's kettle. Unlike some retailers, Publix is not afraid to allow folks outside their doors in this increasingly "PC" world. God Bless Publix, one of our town's best corporate citizens. This year, our Kiwanis kettle brought in $12,500, helped by the ringing of Kiwanis members supplemented by townspeople affiliated with various other clubs.

According the Major Phillip J. Murphy, Area Commander (he's that handsome guy in the uniform, I'm the handsome guy in the blindingly orange blazer), we have "squatters rights" over the Longboat Key kettle, based on the long history of Kiwanis manning this location. Phil Murphy and his lovely wife are, like most Salvation Army posts, co-commanders. They've been married forty years, and all of that time in the service of the Lord. I was in the service of the Air Force, and I thought four years in uniform was excessive.

Maybe if the Air Force had those sporty orange blazers however, hmmmm...........

And, on the eight day......

The Lord Ripley rested, asleep on the corduroy couch in his daddy's office. He was not feeling well, and considering this was the eighth day following sequential shots of Immiticide, this was expected.

Ripley had tested "heartworm positive" as disclosed by the Tampa Bay Beagle Rescue (TBBR), and before he could be fully adopted into his forever home, he would have to undergo heartworm treatment at the TBBR veterinarian in St. Pete Beach. Dr. Rose took in our little boy on the 29th (our 39th anniversary, but who's counting) and he got his first shot that morning, followed by a second shot the next day. It's a two step process, and administered into the muscle on the dog's back. If Ripley could talk, it would be an "OUCH" moment. The wonderful lady at TBBR we work with told us "keep him quiet for two weeks following the treatment, and you should not let him get excited or overstressed". Looking at the pictures, I think you can agree this boy is not overstressed, but loves his daddy for sure.

The recommended treatment was two injections of Immiticide, an arsenic compound by shot into the dog's muscle mass on his hindquarters. It attacks the heartworm living IN the dog's heart, dissolving it and allowing the worm to be absorbed into the blood stream where it dissipates and becomes inert (to my understanding). Following the shots, the dog must remain severely restricted in exercise (no running, jumping, throwing balls, etc.), which often means caged. Our boy is good in his cage, but better near his daddy, as evidenced in the pictures. His daddy is better near his dog, so a mutual admiration society exists here.

In four to six months, Ripley will have another blood test, and hopefully will come back completely clean. He also starts a regular heartworm prevention routine, as these worms are carried by mosquitoes, and unless you live in a bubble you're going to experience them in Florida. At first, I didn't know much about heartworms, having only experienced one of our five prior beagles having a tapeworm (she was a stray whom we found at the pound in St. Louis. Tapeworms are expelled from the body, and when they go, it's dramatic. For this heartworm, only time will tell.

With many thanks to the TBBR volunteers, Ripley experienced great treatment at the hands of veterinarian Dr. Rose in St. Pete Beach, and we started counting the days till he became our forever dog. On the 13th of this month, his "administrative mommy" Madeleine will visit, and hopefully we'll see transfer of his paperwork and microchip to our name, making that second and final payment to TBBR for his care. His first "foster mommy" Lori will be proud of him for being such a good rescue, and we have nothing but praise for this organization.

Ripley, believe it or not, has hit the low point of his recovery (the 8th day after) and is expected to improve and get back his old persona soon. Until then, we'll lovingly lift him onto the couch or Bark-o-Lounger, give him lots of pets and belly rubs, and tell him how much we love him and that, like a tape worm, this too shall pass.

Lights, Action, Camera

The sub-title for this blog entry might well be "When I realized a tripod would make a great Christmas gift request", as evidenced by the somewhat herky-jerky camera work. Now, I've never been known as a great camera operator, and when I was in the Air Force I suffered with industrial grade cameras with lenses that "racked". I found a picture of a very thin me, back in 1969, behind the camera. Having been told I had a face for radio, I logically needed to have a technical job. That's me in the background, talking (as usual)and the good looking guy is Serge Claus Peter Neumann (Pete) who is still working in broadcasting and too busy to read this blog. One of those lenses actually was a zoom, but my current Sony HK1 can run circles around these "lowest bidder" Defense Department cameras. They were made by an outfit called DAGE. Supposedly they sold a lot of cameras to industrial users, but I'm convinced the letters stood for Dumb Ass Government Equipment. Oh well, it beat loading bombs under F-4's at Danang.

Anyway, I was culling through far too many pictures on my computer and trying to organize several, which discarding even more. I found this island band from some cruise pictures and I think the island was Coco Cay (the private island of Royal Caribbean lines). Every cruise line has their own "private island", and RCCL has several - this one in the Bahamas chain, the other Labadie, in Haiti. Private islands are a source of "foreign aid" to these island nation governments (or whatever passes for a government in Haiti). My one trip to Labadie took place during a driving rain storm, but I had promised a dear friend I'd purchase a t-shirt for him there, and I did. I think I also captured another native band playing steel drum music. I believe steel drum band musician is the fourth or fifth most popular job title in the islands, behind native crafts maker/seller, marijuana vendor, jewelry store salesperson, and government employee/poorly trained person with a gun.



Anyway, this file is like 69 megabytes, and about two and a half minutes long. After you tire of watching me try to hold the camera still,just listen to the sound and let it take you back to the islands. Next time I post a video, perhaps I'll be using that tripod I got from Santa Claus. Speaking of Jolly Old St. Nick, I heard recently that the elves were going out on strike - tired of being subordinate clauses.