Cutting Edge Computing

It Was Yesterday February 25, 2020

Most of my years are undeniably behind me, but I still firmly believe that my best years are ahead of me.  That’s in large part because of my memory, which is both long-lasting and close to photographic.  I remember scenes from six years old like it was yesterday (though I may not always remember what I had for lunch yesterday.  Please, I know precisely what I’m saying.).

I’m listening to an Alexa shuffle of Jimmy Buffett right now, and he reminds me of a youth (disclosure: Jimmy is ten years older than me) with Pencil Thin Mustache.  Boston Blackie was before my time, I didn’t know beatniks, but Ricky Ricardo or Schyler and Penny were there (Sky King; Quiz: What was Sky King’s plane?).  And Brill Cream?  Yes, of course, although I only used Obsession.

In my pre-teens, I read James Gunn’s The Listeners.  In his 90s a couple of years ago, he kindly acknowledged my compliment.  In my thirties, I visited there, the Arecibo Radiotelescope.  Then James Bond did it on Goldeneye.  Many other noteworthy places over the years.  I contribute annually to SETI (yes, the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence, including the Allen Telescope Array).   I’m running the Space Shuttle Runway this weekend.

A good memory is both a blessing and a curse.  Despite the drudgery of day-to-day existence, I am often reminded of the rich life I have had, both as a career and as someone tentatively exploring his way through life.  It’s a curse in that you always remember your missteps, and they stand out from the rest, to your chagrin.

But while in retrospect I may have done some things different, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Answer:  Sky King flew a Cessna 310, twin engines, wingtip fuel tanks and all.  I remain surprised that he didn’t tear off the landing gear with some of his escapades.  Growing up, my family doctor (Dr. Thomas) flew a Cessna Skymaster, and did actually tear a landing gear off.  And, circa 1994, Jimmy Buffett flipped his Lake Buccaneer in Nantucket Harbor.  In the 1980s, I got right seat stick time on a Britten-Norman Islander between Charlotte Amalie and San Juan.  I miss flying.