Hey, stand up and be a man! Deny the influence of the Media who only promotes “larger sizes” to increase sales! Yes, I am man enough to admit it; the “petites” do turn me on. There, I’ve said it out loud for the entire world to hear - and I’m not ashamed!
“Oh”, you drool, “look at the D’s being boldly displayed over there. Aren’t they wonderful?” Well, just because, thanks to the current fashions, our proverbial “cup runneth over” are we too timid to stand up for the “little people” and their small “endowments”? I say, NOT!
Give me a modest C or even a delicate B any day.
Alright, alright here’s the deal; I do hereby expose my manhood to ridicule – but I don’t care . . . my favorite models have . . . up front . . . As - and dare I say it – even 1/2As!
This epic tale of love and denial was born in a time when different social classes were kept strictly separated – and yet these two impetuous young people would let no mere polite conventions make them keep their eyes on the ground. Follow the tale of two star-crossed lovers of things altitudinous through their ups and downs - soaring flights to humiliating crashes – and finally to – well you’ll just have to buy the book.
The author has refused to reveal the sources and inspiration for this ground-breaking work – but regardless, it remains the sole and only account of the true beginnings of our beloved hobby/sport – R/C Sailplanes. So, find a copy of this literary classic and prepare yourself to plunge into the very souls of Keith-Kliff and Kate.
As a conscientious reviewer, I cannot allow myself to divulge the most riveting passages to you, dear reader. However, I will tease you with the following exchange that takes place in the very first chapter.
“Oh Keith-Kliff, this wondrous model you have built makes me all warm – deep inside!”
“Stifle yourself Kate, and watch me hurl it off this castle turret with my suntanned, muscular right arm.”
Later towards the end of the saga where there may be a glorious ending waiting for you – or not (heh, heh) – I tease you again with quotes directly from the book.
“Oh Keith-Kliff, what insightful and clever name will you give to this launching mechanism you have so brilliantly devised?”
“. . . I will...Continue Reading
I’ve been thinking that I need a nickname; something in keeping with my reputation among the miniature aviation community. I mean a lot of politicians and other superior people have monikers in quotes in between their front and back names. So why shouldn’t I? Do you remember Abraham “Abe” Lincoln, Andrew “Old Hickory” Jackson, George “Babe” Ruth, and Jim “Reverend Jim” Ignatowski”?
The first thing that leapt to mind was “Ace” of course; Raymond “Ace” Leflyr. Has a certain ring to it don’t it? Conjures up images in my mind of a combat hairball where my SST model (electric powered) is festooned with numerous streamers that have been deftly plucked from the dozen other models in the sky.
Alas, as appropriate as “Ace” might be, I fear that it has been overdone. “So”, I said to myself; “what could be fitting, correct, and accurate – yet humble?” I thought of some examples that might represent my many skills such as, “Flash”, “Champ”, and even “Super Man”. Then I thought it might be humorous to ordinary people to refer to myself in completely absurd terms like, “Crash”, “Goofy”, or . . . “Honest”.
Then inspiration struck (it always happens to me that way), I think Raymond “Genghis” Leflyr says it all. Watch out Tartar peasants!
P.S. Seriously, I know that nobody reads blogs (I myself am a regular reader of only one blog, Heilig’s, here on RCG) so I take this as an opportunity to just be silly and amuse myself – since I no longer have another outlet for wurds. To prove my point; what blogs do you read regularly?
I remember the discussion V** and I had one time. There we were sitting in an upscale dining establishment (the exterior featured stylized arches if memory serves) basking in the warm glow of contentment that follows a fine meal served in an environment of casual graciousness (urp). As is always the case between us, the subject was focused on things that fly - up, up, and away. Way far away in this case as we were discussing how best to distribute the ashes of a dear departed fellow aeromodeller. As our minds soared (heh, heh) I revealed that I had recently completed a forty-size Telemaster. How easy it would be to fit a recess into her belly to hold the revered remains that could be opened to dispense same over a model airfield, garden, or a favorite motel/trysting place (!)
I recall that we sat silent for a time; as if in the grip of reverent contemplation . . . then V** suggested that we could perhaps market the service and thereby finance many glorious modelling projects. In that way, he suggested, we would become the envy of our fellow club mates (and also relieve the never-ending pressure from our wives’ to stem the flow of funds into the coffers of various foreign and domestic toy-stuff vendors).
For myself, I saw “Final Flight llc” as a sacred calling to bring warmth and feeling to a process of honoring the passing of a fellow hobbyist. Whereas the person I had just shared a repast with was interested only in crass commercialism - feathering his own nest as it were. I was outraged and disappointed of course. As I choked back tears of frustration I turned the discussion to other subjects (which was easy to do since V** has an incredibly short attention span). In a flash he was staring vacantly off into the distance (toward the “dollar” menu I believe), mumbling something about a speed rally.
I was recently pondering my eventual demise and wondering how best my hobby cohorts may celebrate (?) my passing. Then in a flash of brilliance (as it often does) it came to me; a procession (a somber parade if you will).
Picture it; a line of pickup trucks (mini vans would be acceptable but no semi’s) slowly passing by the end of our driveway. Each one pauses briefly as my wife grabs handfuls of toy stuff and tosses it into the truck’s bed until the mourner beeps indicated that he/she has enough to mollify his/her grief (or there is no more room). The driver then rolls gloomily off (no wheelies or burning rubber – that would be disrespectful). Hark, is that the barely audible sound of melancholy bagpipes in the distance?
There are two major benefits to this plan; my pals would think of me fondly as they used (or sold) my many treasures, and my wife would finally be able to rid herself of all that “trash” in my playroom (garage, attic, and hidden under beds).
9/9/2006 I have been totally enjoying the brushless/li-po experience for the past two years. Today marks the first time I turned the prop on a Johnson 250 (J250) motor (one of ten I recently received from Hong Kong). This one is mounted on my Lady Bug (the ARF that I bought cheap in a swap meet). I didn't get to fly the model but I did do a couple of donuts on the shop floor.
Maybe I 'll get to fly it tomorrow - maybe fly some SSC combat tomorrow too.