So, after the third fighter jet roared over my house, sounding low enough to make me think it's a good thing we don't have TV aerials anymore, my thoughts turned naturally towards the coming global apocalypse. (Thanks for the mindset, GOP!)
I went to Google, typed in "rochester fighter jets," hit Enter, and clicked "News." Phew.
Of course, my cats haven't bothered to learn how to read and their interest in aviation ends with what can be brought to Earth with a well-timed swipe, so their minds are not yet similarly eased.
It's really, really loud here. Everyone's walking around looking at the sky, even while crossing streets. I try to tell them, Look to the Google. But in a city hosting an air show, no one can hear you scream.
4 comments:
'aerial' is such a cool word, all 1930's, bakelite, glowing electronic tubes, weird whistling atmospherics as you tune the dial, fur collar of your leather jacket turned up against your neck to ward off the chill, green aviator sunglasses, a smoking pipe. I miss aerials.
And as for email, mutt!
That's kind of neat. I used to be a camp counselor at Black Lake, and jets would come in low over the lake and pull up to climb over the hill where the camp was located. From the top of the hill, we could look down on the incoming jets -- but only for 2 or 3 seconds. They moved so fast it was usually over before you knew what was happening. Very cool.
Just because you're having an air show doesn't mean it's not really the apocalypse.
When I was a kid we used to speculate that the Soviets would unleash hell one Friday during our monthly air-raid drills.
That's nothing compared to the Blue Angels that come to Seattle once a year for Seafair during the first week of Aug. The sound is deafening, The jets come so close over my house (I live on a hill)I've seen the face of the pilot.
My thoughts are always... this must be what it sounds like to be at war.
KAKeefe
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