More pigeons

As we were out flying today, something happened that brought back a few funny memories for me...funny for me, not so funny for the other party involved. We were taking off from some dusty base out in the middle of nowhere and I was leaning into the cockpit trying to point out something to the pilots when I looked out the windshield and saw a big flock of pigeons coming at us. It was as if time slowed down a bit and I could easily pick out individual birds with their frantic expressions, I could almost hear their little bird-brained thoughts, "...wow...Omg...WTF IS THAT?!?? AAAHHHHHHH...." Good thing for all of us we somehow missed every single bird. Of course it'd be a stupid bird to fly into a giant roaring MI-8 helicopter, but that's pigeons for ya.

As I sat down in my jumpseat I started remembering all of the bird strikes that I've had over the years in cars, bikes, buses, and especially a memorable ride in an Army chopper. In that particular instance, we were zooming along one gloomy and wet winter day when the chopper made a series of violent banks and jigs as the pilots saw a flock of birds ahead and tried to dodge them, and then *BAM!* we hit a pigeon. I had a headset on so I heard what was going on but for the other passengers, it must have been pretty scary because the bird actually hit a pitot tube and just disintegrated in a bloody mess that smeared all over the door gunner and window. Of course one of the two girls screamed and made a fool of herself, but then again so did two or three of the guys.

Ahhh the memories. Every time I start to forget how stupid pigeons are, the avian gods choose a sacrificial pigeon to remind me firsthand. Why me? Maybe because I'm the only one who maintains a written memory of these dead pigeons, even if it means memorializing their stupidity in stories about buses and choppers nailing them.

In other news, still can't wait for R&R this coming fall. I've yet to decide what I'm going to do with the 30 or so days that I'm taking, other than getting my wisdom teeth pulled. Loads of fun there. I think I'll try to find a few folks to go camping with. Lazing away in my hammock by a fire sounds really good right now, maybe plinking targets with my rifle, or panning some more gold nuggets out of my secret stream up in the mountains. Ah well, fun and good times have a way of finding me where ever I go so as long as I make it to church every week and don't kill anyone, I'll count it as a success.