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Flight’s Fancy Freedom

Flight’s Fancy Freedom.

Home again

I’m home again.

A nasty little squall blew unexpectedly through and left my flat uninhabitable. 2 months of repairs and I’m finally back.

My, it is good to be back home…

Next up,a few more nights of good solid sleep and I should be right as rain. Perhaps a post on sleep deprivation, mmmm……



Too Tired…must sleep.


Flight’s Fancy Freedom

The road less traveled

I have always been intrigued by flying. Perhaps it appeals to the intrinsic existentialist me, or perhaps just the kid that still lurks within; either way, after decades of it, it never gets old. I do; and did. But flying doesn’t.

I came from the generation of glamorous travel, where beautiful long legged stewardesses wore important looking uniforms and pilots were demi-gods to my childish eyes on that first continental flight flown on Pan Am from New York to Albuquerque.  As East Coasters, crossing the Mississippi was big stuff, an occasion to be executed with style and panache. We dressed in Sunday best and wore our Sunday manners as well.  We each had our own zip-top Pan Am flight bags filled with our own important stuff and we were going…and not just ordinary going; we were flying.  I might have been 7 or 8 years old at the time and this experience left an indelible mark on my psyche.  So, when an old school mate posted the above photo on his facebook page, it wasn’t surprising that the mark showed up in full technicolor.

Like a lot of things in this world, it gave me pause to consider the wonder of  it.

Flight – sometimes fancy, sometimes rugged has never lost that intrigue for me. It has never become banal nor ordinary for me (luckily, considering the nerve bending gauntlet of today’s air travel). Whether island hopping on an old Goose, or a commuter flight to work, the mark of adventures’ snare is clearly visible. Yet underneath, beyond the obvious light in my eye at the prospect of going, is the true and unyielding  flip switch that flying flips on: freedom and my love of it.

Freedom, not easily won nor maintained is a cherished commodity that I hold dear to my heart. The price, sometimes fancy, sometimes rugged has left it’s own mark; as walking away from a less than healthy relationship or releasing a loved one to their individual path always hurts. It’s comforting to know that I can always blame Albuquerque.


Be The One

Be The One

In my pursuit of all things enlightening, I pick’d up an old edition of Milton Mayers social introspection titled They Thought They Were Free the germans 1933-45 (published by The University of Chicago Press 1955 – ISBN 0-226-51192-8 for those of you who like to do your own research and developement). I will paraphrase for sake of brevity and respect of copyright.

In a little acorn nutshell, Mr. Mayers notes that the proletariate is basically removed, or rather, non-chalant about the seated government as long as they have a few modest comforts in the  vein of shelter, food, hope for the future and a radio to listen to (mind you, we are in the context of 1933). Things haven’t changed much. Which of course, made me pause to wonder.

Although our tech is quite sophisticated at present; we the people still generally like to eat, have a home in which to reside, live in hope for a better future and like our Pandora/Smashbox/Netflix whichever. Although presently, I am not traveling as extensively as I have, I’ve discouvered that America has developed a similar non-chalance. I believe this happened slowly, generationally, as it wasn’t that long ago that we were all rebelling against the crown and fighting for our right to govern ourselves.

In my journeying, not one, among those I encountered and engaged in dialog, had any clue that the Equal Rights Amendment has not been ratified (hugely separate posting), that you’ve essentially paid for your medical “benefits” -last count- 5 times (another huge separate post), that the “credit score ” that dicates your access to money is contrived to jusitfy usuary (law still on our books- yet another separate post), that after Lincoln freed the slaves a repatriation program was initiated/executed by President Monroe (hence, Monrovia). And that it is indeed legal to pay 16% in taxes ( i looked that one up during the Clinton Administration – as he pays sixteen percent -and am still in pursuit of that happines and a separate posts). Lest this list digress me from the point of this blurb- I return to the issue at hand – most of us are happy with stuff – our houses, our cars, our food. The one non tangible on the list is our hope for a better future. These are not bad things, there is nothing “wrong” with any of this and I am not by any intent saying so ( pity I have to include this disclaimer in a free right blurb on opinion, but alas- there are those who have a senistive spot ready for perceived offense), all I am saying is in my perception, regrettfully, this apathy is apparent in the grandoise state of our status symbols du jour. Quelle domage, eh? Pour moi, cette un grand domage. A sorry state indeed.

Needless to say, we haven’t learned the lesson that it is important to be involved in your life, to be integrated and interactive with your life – life isn’t about the get, although our capitalist economic structure is based on our need to competitively get. We also must be intellectually, emotionally and compassionately plugged in. If we wish to evolve that is. Learn, study, involve yourself. No matter how insignificant it may seem. Draw from the examples of bravery of those who went before us:  Marilyn Monroe – learned that the night club Mocambo wouldn’t book the talented Ella Fitzgerald because of her race. She used her influence to make a change for the better. Rosa Parks – refused to be bullied and stood her ground. She didn’t know then that that would eventually lead to the reality of an African American President (heavens, we had a hard enough time with an Irish Catholic!). Diana Vreeland-  “The only real elegance is in the mind; if you’ve got that, the rest comes from it.”  her words influenced generations of women to believe that they were much more than Barbie Dolls. And yes, all of these women have at one point or another been villified; that’s why involvement requires bravery, courage. 

Be the one who endless searches through the smoke and mirrors to find the truth; be the one to speak out when an injustice as occured (or is in process); be the one to stand for integrity and compassion; be the one to insist on civility, to say ‘no, thank you’ instead of ‘no, f -you’. Be the one strong enough to stand for something, be your brand of Rosa Parks, Marilyn Monroe and Diana Vreeland.

Be the one.

Hello World

Well, I’ve finally settled on a name for my new blog:
3rd Bird or 3rdbird in tech speak.
This Bird’s Eye view somehow became blocked and after repeated attempts to provide a new password, to no avail, I gave up and started Off Peak Blog – well the same nonsense. Needless to say I wasn’t as persistent with that.
Hence, 3rd Bird. I like the 3rd Bird project. I myself am a 3rd bird.Third and youngest child. I tend to be a little third; left over, remainder.  A little left -or right-of center depending upon where you are standing. Having left the nest at an early, yet legally acceptable age, my world view established itself by my environment and associations rather than adherence to parental tradition. Not that I object to tradition, I just find social and cultural evolution so much more interesting.
So, intrepid readers, that is what you will find here on the 3rd Bird blogging project: tid- bits of wisdom interspersed with progress ideology geared toward a social and cultural evolution, by my definition and perspective, of course – isn’t that what this whole blogging thing is about?
Least this blog get boring or overly existentialistic, I plan on adding in a smattering of practical stuff as well. So, I guess it would be safe to say that the project is about learning groovey new things about everything that you might not have thought about just yet.