Farflung

Mr Green hopefully inferred: “I do not think I deserved to be racked in the balls by Vicki just because of my views” I think I need to throw up a little in your mouth too. Wow, look who’s all sensitive about someone who does not like his views! Dishes it well though. Narcissist much Mr Green? Talk about the pinnacle of hypocrisy, Mr Green is the Sir Edmund Hillary of duplicity. He should have put a period after ‘think’ in his above quote.

Mr Green has brought up some superb points about my general conduct and overall douchebaggery. Why can’t this keyboard be a gas oven? One of the paradoxical viewpoints I possess, is the freedoms I fought for included the right to voice any opinion someone feels the burning need to air. Yes, that includes people who I have personally irritated to the point of taking time to craft a comment about how reading my posts are wasting their time. Therefore since he must view himself as the center of all knowledge with an ‘official’ announcement, he must have a special viewpoint of his existence in relation to all other lower forms of life (defined as the rest of the planet). Again, that is his right. I use a more simplistic and lazy approach. I select the things offered which meet or wildly exceed my expectations and enjoy the meal, the day and the company at the table. Others (you know who) (they don’t) can suck the oxygen out of any room as soon as they enter. Including a chat room. “Hey, why did everyone stop talking?” they will ask in a perpetual cloud of oblivious detachment before making their next charming move. Upon which they regale all within ear and nose shot with what they don’t like on the menu. Ewwww, escargot, that’s gross plus the garlic gives me gas that lasts for days. And the last time I had the enchiladas I ended up on the toilet so long that I developed little red pimples on my butt. Yuck, I can’t stand chicken satay, you notice how there aren’t any cats around? Plus you’re required by state law to post anything containing peanuts because some people are allergic and have leakage. Hey, where did the waitress go? Naturally, it is always a table for one. I will quote myself from a post not too long ago: “There are exactly five things that people will never lay claim to: One- Not having a sense of humor. B. Being terrible in the sack. Next- Screwing around at work. Lastly, being sloppy and imprecise. Therefore none of these attributes exist within the human condition.” As you can see there is an example incarnate that is utterly unencumbered with that knowledge. They ALL are. Not everything about DB Cooper will have the word Cooper in every other sentence. There are other approaches like simile, allegory, metaphor and comparisons which will NOT include the subject that the self anointed have declared as necessary. In fact, this declaration given for reasons which will not cure impotence, has taken more time away from the very subject that he now guards like a neutered Cerberus. All the while he’s assuming others to be ignorant of the context and subtext of this thread during his long and productive tenure. I’m glad that some people enjoy what I post as a form of entertainment for me. It is a cerebral exercise that keeps me from sitting in the front yard and yelling at traffic. It’s nice to know that smokin99, Orange1 and Vicki have actually got a smile or chuckle out of some of my silly stupid shit that I post. I find it abhorrent that some simple pleasures which are enjoyed by some but not all, must be destroyed by ONE. Since they are being so distracted by a comment which prominently features lines separating the text and an image of a chimpanzee, which could serve as a sort of a head on a stick to those who are so intellectually pure; but don’t have the brains to pour pee out of a boot with instructions on the heel. Why I was limited to being mentally challenged or on some mind altering drugs is vexing. I possess both of those traits along with a long time gambling addiction, dilsexia, tertiary syphilis, a Precious Moments Figurine collection, a crippling case of self importance, paranoia and I’m a devout ‘Other People’s Time Waster’. Here’s the rub. Mr Green won’t get this message since he Officially stopped reading my comments (hang on a sec, I need a moment)…. OK, I think I can proceed. For him to answer would mean that he in fact continued to read my comments thus making him an Official (insert favored descriptor here). Thanks guys for going to bat for me, I’m heartened and ashamed that you were ‘forced’ to do that instead of someone just living and letting others live. What a disgrace.

Orange1 suggested: “Will you be using the train next time you are in Holland then?” The various modes of travel offer little relief from frustration or abject acceptance of what is patently absurd. You see after I learned to fear and loathe the ‘End of Priority Road’ sign which brilliantly substituted for the traditional yield and stop signs with something smaller, poorly understood and randomly placed; I tried the train. Now I’m driving my Twingo to the station. In all honestly, I think wearing is a better verb than driving in regards to a Twingo. Nevertheless, I’m doing pretty good with the road that day and not causing any large amount of discourse as I travel the narrow lanes of the city choked with bicycles, busses, unicycles and pogo sticks all which have their own lanes, signals and road markings. There’s the station just ahead and there’s one of those ‘Internationally Approved Foolproof’ signs in a comforting hue of blue with a large, upper case, letter ‘P’ in the middle of a rectangular form. I got that warm feeling like I had just peed myself knowing that in spite of my limited language skills, a parking lot was near and because I just did. This should be simple, hey there’s an open space. Now I’m parked but did not get a ticket from one of those boxes mounted ubiquitously in the US. Hmmmm, that’s peculiar I’ll just have a look around and around and around. Great, now what? So I ask some passing Dutchpeoples how I pay for parking. One woman who appeared bothered by my ignorance showed me the parking machine. Boy did I feel stupid. That ATM sized machine was mounted in the middle of the sidewalk and facing away from the parking lot and painted black on the back. Oh, thanks for the international ‘P’ sign to get me into this, thanks so much, oh I luv ya, I just luuuuuuvvvv ya. That’s enough complaining about a little Dutch parking lot. Wrong. Now that I’m standing in front of this convenience I discover that the international symbol committee went home for the night because this thing had more instructions and knobs and lights than a control console in an Apollo space capsule. I did what any self respecting American would do; I threw money at it. I took a fist full of guilder and feed that box and pushed every button and pocketed every receipt that came out. That should do it and quite a value at 47 guilder. Off to the train and a relaxing ride to Amsterdam without a care in the world. I returned late that night and walked like I knew what I was doing back to the parking lot and found a bright yellow wheel cover on my beloved Twingo. Now what? Oh great, here’s a ticket and it is written in…. Dutch. Screw it, I’m taking a cab. Apparently you’re supposed to put those tickets from the machine in your car so the cops know you paid. Thanks Frommer’s, AAA, Fodor’s and the rest of the self proclaimed experts on World travel, knowing about those societal differences would have really been helpful. I decided to go home and have a beer. Just one you see, because the Dutch don’t believe in six packs. It was during these soul crushing times where the combined cost of the parking ticket and the tickets for parking exceeded my days wages that I tend to reflect. Just the very thought of an ‘International Sign’ is as ridiculous as an international language. All of us have tacitly or blindly accepted that an octagonal shaped sign colored red must have the word ‘STOP’ painted on it also. Gee, why not the same standard for the millions of round red lights? What are we thinking here? Same for traveling the autobahn at some near sonic speed and passing one of those digital signs flashing some sort of message. What could it be? I know it’s never good news and I’m left with my own abilities to rationally analyze the situation and act accordingly. I think I’ll try something more logical, without any potential pitfalls or unforeseen problems the next time I travel in Holland. I’m thinking Terrafugia. The car for the ‘Future Cooper’.

Orange1 slyly asked: “Never seen one with those black lines through it though, did you add those?!” I did not. This is in fact the most despicable creation I’ve come across in all my global travels and the Dutch act like they don’t know what I’m talking about, denialists. How’s that for a little conspiracy? While driving to work, with my hands at the 10 and 2 o’clock position and traveling at the legal speed limit down a two lane road (as 97% are) a car just pulled out in front of me at an intersection utterly free of any stop, yield or deer crossing signs. I slam on the brakes and become micro-religious while simultaneously scent marking my heliotrope Twingo. This man gets out if his car and in fluent pissedoff-ese takes me back to that sign and points. I nod and beg forgiveness and he marches off. Now I get back in my too cool Twingo and start down the same road and at the next intersection see a car coming so I stop. This guy gets pissed and is waving me by and I shake my head and wave him around just in time to hear a horn from the rear. I just can’t win. And this after going through the rigorous procedure of getting an International Driving License (read go to a AAA office and drop $15). I still have night sweats about that sign and what a Rorschach Easter egg hunt they can be. So between looking through my right window at the mini traffic lights and scanning for the ‘Black Laced Diamonds of Death’ who knows what I may have collided with while driving safely?

Orange1 noticed: “500 grams is a lot of cheese!” True but after suffering that humiliation, I wanted to stock up and limit my exposure to the metric system. After all, I still like girls. Besides I also had to drive to the ALDI and experience one of the most perplexing pieces of road signage I have ever encountered. I’m willing to forgive the mindless placement of traffic lights that actually put the signal behind your car when stopped at an intersection. In fact I found the little mini lights mounted on the pole to be cute once I realized how to use them after someone honked and shouted ‘klootzak’. This of course means, ‘You appear to have missed the green light kind sir.’ As for signs with words; once the aggregate numbers of letters in a nation’s alphabet has been exceeded in a single word, I’m lost. Damn there sure were a bunch of them in Holland. I’m sure that ‘gerechtsdeurwaarderskantoor’ means something in Dutch or between twins with their weird and freaky way of communicating, but as far as I knew it meant ‘Boulder Hazard Next 12 Miles’. I’m pretty sure that is a correct interpretation. Leaving this harbinger of potential paralysis, this portal to the eighth level of hell, the hopeless diamond of destruction, this cruel sick joke the Dutch are playing on the rest of the world with a road sign that makes Russian roulette a preferable choice. I can say from personal experience, many times, that the yellow color and the skid marks certainly apply to what was produced inside my car. So in your own well crafted words Orange1, perhaps you would like to explain the rationale behind the ‘Priority’ symbol and their utterly random placement across the country that claims ‘Victory from the waves’? Or is this one of the secrets you and ‘Bea’ swore never to reveal during your audience with her highness?

You’re right Orange1, I find the Dutch language to be another unsolvable mystery. The Dutch probably should be awarded some sort of linguistic trophy for the sheer number of languages they can switch between. But they may not understand all the nuances of American. That’s right I’ve declared American to be a separate language. Hell, I don’t understand half of what is written on this thread. First of all what was up with all the grocery stores closing at 6? And thanks for telling me that I need to bring my own bag. And weigh and tag produce before checking out. OK, I think that’s all I have to say about Dutch grocery stores. Wrong again, individual bottles of beer? Where are the six packs? Rent a shopping cart? Did I mention that the beer was not in six packs? You have to bag your own groceries with your own bag? And what about this national nightmare which manifests in the fact that beer is not sold in six packs? I would have complained if I spoke Dutch, Flemish, German, Spanish or French but I’m an American and only speak broken English. So I asked, “What sorry mother is dying to have a can of whop ass opened because he forgot to stock the brew aisle with six packs?” Damn right they gave me a long silent stare, that’s respect. So I’m in a cheese shop (yeah they still exist in Europe) and asked for a pound of Gouda all Americany which means Gooo-Duh. The man behind the counter said he did not know what I was talking about and said I would need to make my order in grams. OK, I said it was one of the most popular cheeses in the US and it is called Gooooo-Duuuuhhhhh, louder and slower because that is how Americans translate for foreigners. You got it, I was in the Netherlands, but they are still foreigners in an American’s viewpoint. He still wasn’t sure and I spotted a label and said right there. He said GOW-dah? You wanted Gouda? Yes I said, refusing to say it all girly and just called it cheese now. I’ll take 5 grams assuming the exchange rate for metric to be similar to the guilder/dollar ratio. So ‘Mr Talks Funny Form A Different Country In Many Languages Guy’ turns around a produces a slice that would not cover a cracker and asks “Is this how much you want?” How many grams are in an ounce? Around 25 he estimated. Great then set me up with 500 grams and I’m happy. Now he pulls out a huge wheel of Gouda and slices a wedge and puts it in the scale which reads 501. “That’s fantastic” I said, “You must have a good eye for this.” “I should” he responded, “Because all I do all day is cut the cheese.” He said this with a straight face and with a hint of pride, additionally his elocution was flawless. I reacted with a long silent stare. I don’t think it was respect though.

There is a statute of limitations for a crime and that is good if you are a criminal and counting down the minutes till you can brag about it or sell it. Like Henry Hill did with ‘Goodfellas’. No prosecution for all those crimes since he did not commit any murders, or so he said. Oops, save one notable exception. And I quote from the book of IRS: “There is no statute of limitations for instances where a return was not filed or a fraudulent return was filed. In a case where no return was filed, the IRS may assess additional tax or begin collection activity at any time. In fraud cases where there is a willful attempt to evade taxation, the IRS may make an assessment or pursue court action for the collection of tax at any time.” Guess what? I got a fever and the only prescription is calling your husband an accomplice to a crime that you benefitted from financially and did not claim those windfall gains as income, thus making it a fraudulent return. What an ill wind blows through the valley of deception and puppy spanking. Ohhhhhhhh, I’ll bet someone’s shorts are filling with gold bricks over this. How could Bernie’s wife afford a quarter million dollar ranch as a bookkeeper? By harvesting the fruit from the tree of treachery and not paying your taxery no doubt. I think there should be a much closer examination of where these people acquired such assets. Considering they claimed to stay married for the financial benefits into the ‘90s (divorce appeal) there is one step in the direction of malfeasance already. If she divorced Bernie because he was a crook then her moral outrage has a sloooow burning fuse. Bernie’s wife confirmed, in sworn testimony, in court that she only received one serving of ‘pork’ from him in the ‘70s. Oh my, it’s all so salacious and unseemly. What will be next?

377 asks: “Have you seen this more basic approach to jettisoning a DC 9 tail cone? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x9deMKE-iek ” It looks so easy to do, when in the hands of a true professional.

377, I agree with the SB from Boeing as a strong possibility. If you observed a Cooper Vane on a DC-9 then there must be some other avenue of compliance than an AD. Here’s some more grist for your consideration and what I (a mere monkey) would do in a DC-9. The architecture of the tailcone in the DC-9 is vastly different without that engine mounted back there. In fact there is yet another egress point in this narrow bodied beauty. Yep, the tailcone was home to an escape chute and an ‘Ah Shit’ handle for emergencies. I would disarm the slide (assuming I’m a Skygod) then jettison the cone into the slip stream and make good my escape from a plane with a Cooper Vane. Kinda weird and freaky right? Now if someone does this in the next year I’ll probably get blamed for posting this. I’ve got to get to work on an Anti-Farf device and launch a preemptive (and hopefully lucrative) solution. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oLFJcA3Hlgo

There is relief to be found today for all those that know DB Cooper is a Special Ops combo CIA Agent that has a grudge against the ‘man’. Coming in early 2012 is a new comic book to round out the existing selection which is becoming so vast that it’s difficult to tell one from another. Once again, because I just care too much, I courageously took this problem head on in an effort to stifle further confusion and contain fear. Although I’m not sure if this is the entire inventory of Cooper comics, I will update this information as necessary. You’re welcome.

I’ve been searching for the rationale associated with requiring 727’s to install the Cooper Vane that Robert99 mentioned. Here are some of my findings so far: 1. Any question asked on an internet forum like “Where’s a good place to get a KX-155A repaired?” will first be answered with another question like “Whadaya wanna do dat fer?” After explaining all the intricacies to Captain Blazing Response the answer, “I don’t know” WILL follow. I have found this to reside in a certainty ellipse of 100%. 2. The FAA AD (Airworthiness Directive) database has produced nothing requiring the installation of such a device that I can find thus far. It should not be this difficult if it applied to all 727s. 3. This leaves a sort of backdoor AD or Service Bulletin via the Maintenance Manual issued by the manufacturer. If an item is integrated into this document even though it may have been organically produced without FAA mandate it becomes required equipment for continued airworthiness. At this point I’m feeling a little suspect of this FAA mandate and am leaning towards simple home grown solution (an A&P) that was implemented via Boeing after a series of hijackings with this particular plane. This is such ‘old news’ that it’s hard to believe it has not been verified before. Then again, say something enough and it will become true via lore.

Willie Holder was a member of the Black Panthers and hijacked the plane in a sort of ‘Dog Day Afternoon’ rationalization of seeking political asylum with a bag filled with half a million dollars. I guess the charm of the asylum wore off and Willie moved to France where he was eventually arrested and sent home. Now Mr. Altruistic conspires with an accomplice that hands him over to undercover cops who pose as arms merchants willing to sell some C-4 explosive to Holder. Quote from the article: “Other law enforcement sources said the former Black Panther Party member was going to stage the hijacking in the guise of a political statement, but his real intention was to get enough money to last him the rest of his life.” http://articles.latimes.com/1991-07-18/local/me-3264_1_willie-holder

So along with my poor performance (not what you think) finding all the civil aircraft with aft stairs yesterday, I begin a new day with yet another discovery of my aviation shortcomings. It would be much easier if the information I was looking for would just lay at my feet, at my beck and call rather than be forced through two (2) humiliating and disgraceful revisions in 24 hours. But I was required to make the amendments with an acknowledgement as part of being cool. Along with the growing list of aircraft with aft stairs is an addition to the Cooper arrest warrant and Statute of Limitations. Ms. Kerkow is suspected of living in Cuba (Cuber for those from Massachusetts) and still wanted after all these years. Ahhhh, that’s kinda sweet. Her accomplice, Willie Holder (not what you think) returned to the US and was convicted of hijacking where he served his time till being released on parole. After all, everyone deserves a second chance. He most certainly took advantage of that by being arrested six months after being released for conspiracy to commit another hijacking. So he went back in the clink and Catherine has remained wanted. I don’t think letting some statute of limitations guide your confession to a crime would be the wisest of move. But what do I know?

377 penned: “Has hunkiness and nun lust….” Not to be a dick…. which is code for I’m going to be one anyway. But the proper spelling is ‘Hunkyness’ not the arcane and androgynous version ‘hunkiness’. I will go on to add, not to sound like a douche…. which is code for I’m totally going to be one. Your future use of the word accompanied with correct spelling will be greatly appreciated. Thanks. (How’s that for some Silicon Valley, grey cubicle, passive-aggressive, inter-office communications?) I just wish there was some sort of mnemonic that could help but there simply is none.

That’s a good question Robert99 and I think it was just issued for the 727. I’ve seen placards in one model of aircraft that say ‘raise flaps to increases brake effectiveness’ which should be true in every aircraft. I’m guessing that someone pranged a plane into some bright yellow taxiway sign and said they couldn’t’ slow the plane and sued. Solution: Place another piece of eye pollution on the instrument panel. I have not been able to find the AD for the ‘Cooper Vane’ (yet) and have shown little or no personal ambivalence about trapping some panicked ‘head case’ in a plane with me and no way out. I say let em jump. The enhanced security measurements after 1971 (read getting some) may have rendered the vane superfluous. I don’t know this as fact. Hmmm…. This may be a training video for Future Coopers looking for that custom made, fully powered jump door. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dijpw392JU0&feature=related Here’s a 1966 commercial which broadcasts the features of the new Ozark DC-9. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ItYtYNJmzDU&feature=related A 1965 clip of that BAC-111 with a hot stewardess getting pulled into the plane. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LchdmV6j5sI These aft stairs were a pretty poorly kept secret thus far.

377 observed: “Has hunkiness and nun lust compromised the thoroughness of your aviation research. Didn't you omit the BAC 111?” Yes I did. Much the way a rising tide lifts all ships, you have made everyone on the thread that much smarter, again.

Here ya go Robert99, Although not as popular of a story as Cooper, because they caught the guy, Charles LaPoint opened some DC-9 stairs in flight. This was on 20 Jan 1972, a whopping 63 days after DB. Another unusual fun fact is that LaPoint opened an over wing hatch then decided against using that. I’m thinking with that wing set so far back and the plane in a slow flight configuration that engine intake might have looked like a sky-shark’s waiting, open mouth. The third titillating bit of bailout banter had to do with a third hatch that was in the cargo bay that the Douglas engineers said was also a viable escape route. My goodness, they might as well have been handing out bags of money and chutes to passengers as they boarded. I think the DC-9 was designed by a skydiver with that many holes to jump from in flight.

Once again in a fit of hunkyness, I hunted and gathered the examples of civil aircraft which had aft stairs and when they had them. Because I think people have a right to know if their jet can be hijacked by a crook. Well I am not a crook, but I’m giving everything I got. So step back and take a look at the long history of aircraft stairs.

I equate the existing breed of aviation enthusiasts to being ‘Movers and Shakers’. As in Moving into fewer and farther facilities and being like Shakers since they abstained from sexual activities and only lasted (surprise!) one generation before vanishing into history. I don’t know when this ‘Skygod’ mentality started or if it has always been there and they simply represent a majority demographic now. The only skills I was born with were crying and filling my diaper, everything else was learned from someone else. I’ve never peed in the Cheerios of someone interested in general aviation as a vocation or hobby or whatever. But many think the sun rises and sets in their pants since they are God’s gift to all that dare set foot on that airfield’s macadam. Eliminate 100LL, close Reid-Hillview and anything associated with aviation. So the logical response is to become a puppy spanking, ambassador to the sport? How’s that working out so far? I read one thread where the common response was ‘STFU’ (nothing bitchy there) several dozen times. Do I think it should be shut down? Hell freakin no. Believe it or not, there was some good information sprinkled amongst the angst and demonstrated the swing between the enlightened and the ‘touched’. Reading both viewpoints gave me an education of the varied approaches used in problem solving or continuous improvement. Killing things or having people STFU will certainly maintain the status quo, which may be their desire. I think the record requests to kill this thread is on page 8 of this partition, ‘DB Cooper it’s own section’ with an aggregate of seven people in less than two hours before 377 made a noble appeal and Quade locked the thread. I’m sure there were dozens or hundreds more waiting in the wings with an unquenchable thirst for Whuffo blood. Just blood, because Whuffos have no guts.

I’ve taken polygraph tests and they are exactly like this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-TZ8Z5S9rI Not. They are used and even have some fascinating laws which regulate their use. http://www.dol.gov/compliance/laws/comp-eppa.htm I recall the questions always being yes or no answers. No one jumped up and asked where I was on the night of June 16th while pointing a 300 watt lamp in my face. It’s a lot more fun to think of it that way. Nope, I was in a very comfy chair in a tastefully lit room with neutral colored walls. The examiner sat behind me and spoke in a level, soft almost soothing tone as he went through the list of questions. Before the test started he asked if there was anything that might alter my reactions like being on prescription medication or experiencing some sort of trauma like the death of a pet. When the test was over I asked how I did. As he was tearing the graph paper off the machine and reaching for a stapler he said, “You should know.” God I’m cool.

I had this nagging feeling that this all seemed so familiar. Check the DNA and ‘no match’ does not mean anything. Then why check? What would a match indicate? The prints don’t match. That proves nothing also. Then I realized there is a common pattern with many (not all) Cooper suspects who become Coopersteins that escape the lab and terrorize villagers and skunk haired love interests alike. Just like in the movies the various monsters end up in a sort of creepy smack down like Frankenstein, Wolf Man and Dracula with Kenny, LD and Duane roaming the mist shrouded hills.

I noticed that inference in Bruce’s post but don’t think Gray would do that or needs to. This is a round number anniversary (40th) so it will bring out a higher than normal group of people with information I presume. Clearly we all love a mystery. But much like ‘Deep Throat’ from Watergate fame, I imagine the answer will be just a pedestrian as some retired civil servant living in Santa Rosa. He was just pissed off that he didn’t get promoted to Director of the FBI. Those were some big ‘Sling-back Stilettos’ he was trying to fill and the green eyed monster has little to do with honor. Much like the Watergate break in, the latest Cooper story appears to be borne from a series of geometrically reproducing misstatements. Some freelance journalist is tasked to write about Cooper for our British colleagues and begins a tour of the PNW. He forgets 25% of the flight crew and quotes something from the FBI regarding a new lead. Thanks to a lack of earthquakes, Libyan defiance or sexual misconduct in the halls of congress this story is picked up and the new lead is bred in a captive environment into a strong suspect with resolution on the horizon. With the Earth still standing still, Quadaffi sequestered and congressmen keeping it zipped up, the niece becomes the natural focal point of this decades long perfidy. Now the news machinery plucks the low hanging fruit in the form of the latest person to write a book on the subject. Gray is quoted as a Cooper expert and actually responds to questions about Marla with answers as succinct as – Bullshit. If he was milking this for the benefit of his book then he is an abject failure and should stick to traditional marketing techniques. His book has had a measured, logical and yes I’ll add ethical cadence associated with the pending release. He is not taking advantage of this situation as much as he could have and others are most certainly trying to take advantage of this latest news event.

RoberetMBlevins analyzes weather with: “I don't know about the weather part, though. Aleutians or Minneapolis, maybe it's the same. I'll take your word on it.” Why take my word when a quick look at the plethora of weather steeped web sites is available (which I provided in my previous post)? With nothing more than internet access and a keyboard and a thirst for knowledge I can review the temperatures recorded and averaged and make that comparison. Here’s a spoiler….it’s colder four months out of the year in Minneapolis. In fact the attachment is an example of just such an activity. I like to verify as much as I can, as easily as I can for a cross check. That way someone won’t feed my burning bias to establish a Dan Cooper comic book lying around a Shemya dayroom years before the character was even conceived. Shemya is a miserable place without the hyperbole of blizzard like snow storms and waves mercilessly crashing and lashing the shore as if nature was punishing the inhabitants for being so very, very naughty. I did this just monkeying around but I was just looking for data and not an answer that matches a pre-plotted curve. That may be where I stumble on this dry, un-emotive information.

Here’s a straight answer from someone who has been in Shemya and Minneapolis during winter (gulp). Yeah I’m bragging, don’t be jealous. Without a doubt, Minneapolis has far harsher conditions than Shemya in the winter. Shemya suffered from crippling crosswinds that could last days. Oh, and that cliff at the end of the runway was a bitch too. But I’m sure you’ve heard all this in your interviews. The contractors when I was there were making between 3 and 5 X prevailing wages compared to the lower 48. That included plumbers, electricians and all the other trades that make a mini city function. So a lot of the money ended up in the bar? Welcome to Farflung’s world - anywhere in the world. Takes a great deal of booze to drink all those earnings which did NOT go to rent, utilities, insurance, cable, car payments, credit cards or any of the financial diversions you consider to be common place. Take a few moments to consider the magnitude of the previous sentence in relation to your own lifestyle and what the end result would be. It is NOT poverty, no matter how desperately that solution is desired. Plus those sneaky aircrew would fly in cheap hooch from the lower 48 to keep living expenses down in a sort of ghost economy. The support system for this was truly efficient. This box of clinking glass is for ‘Amazing Bob’ in Hangar 2. It was always delivered. Now where would I prefer to spend a winter? MINNEAPOLIS (read Nordic beauties here). With the bad WX and taxes and whatever; there is something about being part of a fully functioning society (read Nordic beauties here) that is compelling. I would be on Shemya to bag money and counting every day while I did it. There would be a purpose for me being on such a little slice of heaven and it isn’t the chicks behind every tree.

RobertMBlevins reflects: “Still, many of them formed friendships that lasted for decades. Like Kenny Christiansen and Bernie Geestman, for instance.” I’m sure it was difficult for Bernie to leave his buddie’s behind when he departed Shemya. Might want to check the almanac for average temps on Shemya versus oh, I don’t know….. how about Minneapolis? http://www.weather.com/weather/wxclimatology/monthly/graph/USAK0276 http://www.weather.com/weather/wxclimatology/monthly/graph/USMN0503 Plus Kenny was a contractor on Shemya not in the military. He could leave anytime his wallet let him. Most left with wicked fat wallets, W-I-C-K-E-D FAT!