What Gordon Said to the Drunk Guy Walking in the Middle of the Road on the San Carlos Rez in 1980

Over breakfast this morning I learned that Gordon died while I was sleeping. I finished my tea and went out to finish a chore. I've been working on my truck's transmission for a week and it needed a final bit of attention. Later I took it out for a long drive south past Kealakekua Bay and down Middle Keei Road. I listened to Andrea's Mix on my iPod.

When I got home I went for a bicycle ride. Longer than normal, up the hill to the top of Walua, then onto the highway all the way to Kainaliu. I turned around at Keauhou Mauka and hit 50 on the way back down the hill. Then I took a shower and grabbed some lunch.

This afternoon I cleaned the house and did the wash, listened to Coldplay on the iPod. Later we went to a party at the home of Sting's Videographer. I had too much to drink and Mrs. T had to drive us home.

I climbed into bed and realized, as I drifted off, that there is a lot that only I know, now.

A Different Kind of President

I did a search for "what's on Obama's IPod." More interesting than what IS on Obama's IPod was that I took it for granted that he HAS an IPod. It never entered my mind to do a search on what's on Bush's IPod.

Dave Bigelow

I found out this evening that our friend and flying companion, Dave Bigelow died in the crash of his DG-400 on Friday. He had set out from Waimea (Mauna Kea Soaring Club) to attempt to break his own altitude record (Hawaii State). He failed to return and a search spotted the remains of his glider on Mauna Loa but they were unable to get to the site until this afternoon. A resident near the crash site reported a large foam and fiberglass chunk of something had landed in his yard about the time of Dave's disappearance.

Here's a picture of Sherman on the left, John Mitchell in the center, and Dave flying RC gliders at Dave's place on Waikii Ranch.



And this is Dave, in the glider, being congratulated by Woody Woods, after Dave's record setting flight of 33,531 feet in April 2008.




There's some cool in cockpit footage of that flight here:

Learning to Text

Sarah and I got new cell phones the other day. We picked up a matching set of Sony Ericsson W350's. They're tiny. I decided I'd make the effort to learn texting. It's been fun so far, the software on the phone makes it easy because, as everyone but me has known for years, it spells the word as you thumb and makes a good guess as to what you're trying to say. The dictionary is very complete.

Anyway, I've figured out that I can harass the kids when they're at school. I used to call occasionally, but that never works, because they don't answer voice calls in class. They do answer text messages in class. So I've been sending them messages of hope and cheer and fatherly advice. For instance, today I sent this message:

"Fatherly advice: Try to live your life as a dog would. If you can't eat it or play with it, then pee on it and walk away."

The other day I wrote:

"Fatherly advice: Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes. That way if they get mad, you'll be a mile away and you'll have their shoes."

My daughter's favorite so far is this:

"Fatherly advice: If you're invited to your first orgy, don't just show up nude. That's a common newbie mistake. Nudity has to happen."

Her friends said, "your dad wrote that?!?" She said, "He probably found it on the internet, or something." Which is true, I get most of my wisdom from the internet. It makes me sound old and wise and full of experience without the pain of actually having to learn any real life lessons.