Sailor Television

God…

First Captain Ahab and Queequeg showed up.

Queequeg put his harpoon in the corner.

A bit later Moby Dick showed up.

Man, I don’t have room for him too on my sofa.

Then Popeye showed up.

Me: What are you doing here Popeye?
We’re going to watch “Whaling Television.”
Wouldn’t you prefer some “Sailor Television.”

Popeye: I would if you had some documentaries on giant sea cucumbers.

Me: Too much information Popeye.
Don’t ask. Don’t tell.

Queequeg: Call me Ishmael.
Me: Maybe later Quee.

For hors d’oeuvres I served  miniature croissants stuffed with mushrooms.
They were heaven and everyone loved them.

Oh wait Popeye has some thing to say.
Here it comes…

Popeye: Do you have any…

Me: God, here it comes…

Popeye: Do you have any croissants with…

Me: Let me guess..

Popeye: Spinach?

Me to self:
No I don’t have any fucking croissants with spinach!!!
Only fucking croissants with mushrooms which everyone loves!!!
I invited you here just so I could fuck you over by not serving
you any fucking croissants with fucking spinach!!!!!!

Me out loud:
Of course, Popeye…
They’re “browning” in the oven.
Let me get you some.

Queequeng: Mind if I take my harpoon in the kitchen?
Me: Sure. Whatever Quee.

Moby Dick ate all the bean dip.

I mean ALL the bean dip.

And I don’t have a toilette big enough to accommodate the guy.
The only way they’re going to fix that problem
is by burning my apartment complex to the ground.

Queequeng: Mind if I take a selfie of myself with my harpoon in the bathroom?
Me: Whatever dude.

Me to self: Look we know you are a harpooner!!!
What are you compensating for with the harpoon?!!

Anyway, “Whaling Television” night was a huge success and we promised
to do it  again soon at Moby’s house.

The next evening there was a ring at my doorbell.
I opened the door and was greeted by Captain Crunch.

Me: Hey,how’s it going Captain?

Captain Crunch: Great.
Popeye will be here shortly.

Shall we watch some “Sailor Television?”

The Boeing B-29 Superfortress

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bombing_of_Tokyo

My Dad said this was payback for Uncle Matt.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In the military during World War II they simplified things for you. Your middle name changes to Zbigniew and they just go with the first name Joe.
Works for everyone. My Dad later had his first name legally changed to Joe.

He wanted to fly like his big brother, so he went to flight school and became a Navigator and 2nd Lieutenant when he was 21. Men like other men who have strength, are well-educated, and have a high level of confidence. It helps if you have rational mind and good judgement. Such characteristics become a “leadership” magnetic for other men. They just feel that a guy that is intelligent, strong, and is confident with good judgement should probably be in charge. And they’re probably right.

That was my Dad. Plus, he was just so damn much bigger than everyone else.
His men loved him. (See photos of his men below.)

He was the flight commander responsible for making sure the flight was well-planned, executed, and the mission was a success.

He became a flight commander just in time to fly the Air Force’s newest heavy bomber the B-29 Superfortress.

He said as a bomber… it got the job done.

The technology that went into developing this aircraft was so sophisticated at the time it had a service life that greatly exceeded WW II.

They flew out of China and did low-altitude incendiary bombing at night.

During this time they only lost 1 aircraft and 1 man under his command.

They were returning to base pretty heavily damaged.

With such aircraft it is not recommended to parachute, but to execute a crash landing.

They crash landed just short of the landing strip. One man’s hand/arm got stuck between or in some kind of structure in the interior of the crashed B-29. As everyone else escaped before the plane burst into flames, this man was stuck.
He perished with the plane.

After that they carried a machete on every flight.

Thinking if ever faced with such a situation again, they would cut the man’s arm off.

Because my Dad’s big brother Matt died as a fighter pilot and because of the death of this man I was only able to ever talk to him a few times about the war.

He didn’t like to talk about the war.

Back row far left.

In Air Force together as brothers. Dad left. Uncle Matt far right.

Dad with Gradma and “Warsaw Anthony” Grandpa.

Why: Because no one is going to beat the United States.

Big Anthony 1913

The Legend of Matt (San Antonio)

San Antonio, Randolph Air Field

Just as my Dad Zbigniew (Joe) the Navigator/Flight commander was loved by his men because he had strength, was well-educated, highly confident, with  a rational mind and good judgment…there was his big brother Matt  who took things to the next level as a the fighter pilot.

Everyone loved Matt. Everyone wanted to be Matt.

Gold Glove Heavy Weight Champion in Pittsburgh PA. everywhere he went he walked in like he owned the fucking place.

Once called by his school’s Dean: “The most cocky man in Pittsburgh!”

And that he was…

And people loved him for it.

(More cocky than me… truly impossible to believe.)

No one ever called his bluff.

Because he never bluffed.

I get my middle name from  my Uncle Matt.

In the service he was treated like royalty and taught boxing everywhere he went.

Men loved him. They wanted to be given a boxing lesson from a Gold Glove Champion from a city the size of Pittsburgh and then spar a round, so they could take a photo and tell their friends.

When he walked into the room he instantly became the life of the party.

He led a charmed life of hero-worship.

But hitting the ground head-on during night maneuvers in pilot training proved he too was human.

When he died Grandma said that the house on Polish Hill became a bit of a shrine to him.

This went on for years because of the people’s lives he had touched and affected.

The hero-worship phenomenon… that’s why I can show you so many pictures of Matt.

Everybody wanted to take his photo.

Teaching boxing in the service.

Some fitness exhibit.

“Warsaw Anthony” Grandpa and Matt

Why: Because no one is going to beat the United States.