We're the Military and Airpower Guys of Jonah Goldberg of National Review Online + a stray we found wandering around looking lost. All original material JHD, BHD, JR, WT, and KA 2003-2007 http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html Sun, 03 Aug 2008 16:48:26 Z Movable Type 4.12 en Copyright 2008 http://www.rssboard.org/rss-specification Lex has an excellent post that Fuzzy linked to yesterday, regarding Trolls. In it, Lex notes what he's learned about some of the people who hang out at his place. In my mind’s eye, I know the regulars here by what they love. CPT J is a warrior poet, his heart beats to the ancient rhythms. B2 and Sid saw the world as it once was, and think it still the best. Michelle likes a good sea story, Kris likes plane pr0n, Byron loves ships from the inside, Tim loves the whirl of the blades - prop or helo doesn’t... http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html Mon, 20 Nov 2006 06:12:46 -0600 Well then, my sympathies. Pernicious habit, cat collecting. http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53262 http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53262 Tue, 21 Nov 2006 17:12:55 -0600 Lex, we seem to collect cats, also!! http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53243 http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53243 Tue, 21 Nov 2006 07:33:20 -0600 Well that's a great post back-atcha John. And I envy you them firearms too, as well as the lady in your life who green lights you for 'em. We mostly seem to collect cats. http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53215 http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53215 Mon, 20 Nov 2006 13:48:57 -0600 "First Night." by Sgt. B. (1999) The recovery vehicle had disappeared down the road in a cloud of diesel exhaust and the grin of the buddy who loaned its services. The neighbors, who had come out to gawk at this new "thing", had bid their "good-nights" and headed inside to eat dinner, watch "Jeopardy", or put the kids to bed. The day faded into night, and the world filled with the serene silence that lay like a comforting blanket over all. It sat there, a shape in the darkness, illuminated by only the light spilling off of the porch. Even in its dilapidated shape, it commanded respect, like an old soldier trying to straighten to the position of attention for the flag he fought for so long ago. The newer vehicles around it seemed to bow to its presence, as if understanding that they served a daily and useful purpose, but this newcomer would perform a more noble deed; it would carry the stories of the past into the future... I looked at this tired old survivor, and didn't think of the many hours it would take to get it up and running. I'd do that tomorrow. Not tonight... Tonight was a night to rest. It was a night for me to shed all of the feelings of anxiety and worry that came with the recovery effort. A night for me to take a deep breath and accept that this old war-horse was all mine, with the title in my pocket. Tonight was a night for the spirit of this vehicle to accept that it was now in the care of a pair of hands that would treat it with respect, and maybe even a little love. It would never sit in a barn, covered in garbage. It would never sit in the middle of a field, lonely and rotting away. It would never feel the hands of some casual driver who looked at it as "just another farm truck". It seemed to breathe a deep sigh of relief, a rescued soul... Tonight was a night for ghosts. A time for all those spirits of warriors past to find this vehicle, to invest in it their own stories, stories which would be revealed as I researched this truck's past decades of faithful service... I watched it for a little while, and then put my hands on the dented hood. I could feel the energy over the span of time. How many hands had touched this very place? I walked around it, my finger trailing along its fenders, its doors, its sides, its tailgate, all the while wondering at the places it had been, of the men and women it had carried, and of the events it had witnessed. Here, in the darkness, I could almost see the faces of the young men, dressed out in their combat gear, riding in the back, on their way to meet their destiny, be it the front lines, or simply from the field to the chow hall. Tomorrow I would begin to restore this diamond in the rough to its youthful livery. Tomorrow I would work my will upon it. Tonight, however, I would be still, and let it work its will upon me... Kinda like that? The only difference is that my collection costs more to feed, as they are fully operational, and John's by neccessity, have been retired, ne'er to speak in anger again. (Well, most of 'em, anyways...) But the passion is still there... ]]> http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53209 http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53209 Mon, 20 Nov 2006 11:07:43 -0600 Hey neat that was sorta a "Best Of" show. http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53208 http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53208 Mon, 20 Nov 2006 10:45:01 -0600 why does it exist? because it CAN! http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53204 http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53204 Mon, 20 Nov 2006 10:23:02 -0600 Is it just me, or does this guy STILL look like a hotel bell hop? LOL http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53202 http://www.thedonovan.com/archives/2006/11/so_why_does_the.html#comment-53202 Mon, 20 Nov 2006 09:34:38 -0600