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General control line discussion => Open Forum => Topic started by: frank carlisle on June 25, 2007, 06:20:18 AM
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I gotta get a life. Since Feb. 2006 I've spent 10 days on this forum. And 1800 hundred posts later I realize I haven't gotten anywhere. My entire 1800 post journey was from my desk chair to my desk chair. I've logged many many hours of flying time and have only gone in circles. Sadly as I sit here at the console this morning with coffee cup and cigarette in hand hunting and pecking each new letter my thoughts wander to the circle. My plane is close at hand and I thrill at the thought of leaving partial wheel tracks in a small portion of the circle as I prepare to spend yet another day in the pursuit of the perfect pattern which in no way will improve the world in which I live.
Ever since my first day in kindergarten and the ringing of that first bell which announced the onset of recess and it's inevitable trip to the playground I have been living for playtime. Career, family and the pursuit of wealth have always placed second to my unbridled desire to be on the playground with a model airplane orbiting around my head.
Yesterday immediately following a whipped landing which put my plane back onto the same spot from which it had escaped the earthly bounds of gravity only a few minutes before, a small group of post game baseball players gathered near my plane. One of them commented on how nice the exhaust from the planes engine smelled. This offhand remark was all I needed to reaffirm for me that it is best to remove one's nose from the grindstone as often as possible and take the time to smell the castor.
AMEN
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Really waxing poetic, Frank...you have my applause.
My record says "10 days 13 hours", so I guess I'm right there with you.
--Ray
P.S. But only 1000 posts, I guess I spend more time just reading and lurking...
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What a life eh Ray? As the rest of the world frets and rushes to and fro guys like us are flying model planes. Could heaven be any better than this? #^
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Frank, I see I am only a little over an hour behind you and catching up. I only post when I think it is neccessary or when I see someone's plane that has not received a comment. By the way, you did not make it to SIG, did you? I know the weather was a factor in one case besides them having car trouble. Several canopies were trashed Friday evening. The rest of the weekend was cloudy, cool and damp. Have fun, DOC Holliday
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12 days, 6 hours and 32 minutes, I must read more than I post H^^
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Ever since my first day in kindergarten and the ringing of that first bell which announced the onset of recess and it's inevitable trip to the playground I have been living for playtime. Career, family and the pursuit of wealth have always placed second to my unbridled desire to be on the playground with a model airplane orbiting around my head.
I could hardly believe it when I read your posting. I thought someone has got a script from my life and put it on line. Then I noticed there were a few differences, but the theme was the same. "Living for playtime" is a wonderful phrase that sums up my life in three words. Here are some of the similarities and differences. I too am siting here with a cup of coffee and a cigarette slowly pecking out this message.
I have been logged on for 11 days 7 hours and 14 minutes since last September. This will be my 449th posting. This surprises me as I generally monopolize the conversation, but I have been listening more and talking less.
I discovered the joys of playing and creating in 1941 when I was three years old. I found two pieces of old wood shingle and a nail. I nailed them together and I had an airplane. I found more scraps and nails and as fast as I could put them together the size and variety of my fleet of planes grew.
Fortunately I was intelligent enough to slide through high school with very little effort. When I was in my early forties I happen by chance to see some old school records that they were throwing away. Among all the papers were teachers evaluations of each student in the eighth grade. Also in three word my teacher had summed me up perfectly. It read "intelligent but lazy".
After high school I considered going to college, but found out I was having too much fun playing with wine, women, song and cars. At 17 I started a carpenter apprenticeship, which was a glorified name for cheap day laborer. I realized that this was too hard of work and managed to become an estimator/superintendant/project manager by the time I was 21. Really enjoyable work because part of the day could be spent planning my playing when quitting time came. I eventually had two children and they thought I was a good father because we all spent a lot of time playing together.
In the next fifty years or so my life consisted of playing, with various interest at the top. Model airplanes, ham radio, then restoring cars then metalworking and now back to where I started when I was 3, building planes. I never let work interfere more than 40 hours a week.
I make no apologies for my life style. It certainly isn't for everyone, but it has worked for me. Where has this lifestyle led me to at this point of my life 69 and pushing 70? Well I don't know of anything I could have or do that would make me any happier than I am today. I have a wonderful wife of 17 year (third try) that is not only supportive but encourages me. I have near perfect health ,which is really a gift that I had no control over, two wonderful and successful children who still play with dad via email almost everyday, all of the material possesions that I ever wanted, enough money to be comfortable but not wealthy, many friends, and best of all pleasant memories of the thousands of hours I spent playing. Success or failure? I suppose that depends on your point of view. Gotta go now it is playtime.
Most of my life I spent playing
The rest was wasted
You are only young once but you can be immature forever.
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Boy Keith, guess I need to join the group, too late in the day for coffee so it's coke and a cigarette.. Have ya beat on the marriages but finally found one that would put up with me. If I have any money I spend it, if I have any time I play.. Sometimes I feel like I blew it, should have worked harder and saved more but then again I look at all the things I've done that I probably wouldn't have and say oh well I had fun..
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I've actually got a couple of young boys pestering me to teach them how to fly...so I spent today digging out all my old trainers, Minnie Delta variations mostly, and mounting engines, fuel tanks, etc. Engines vary from Cox BW & Production, Norvel .049s, a Brodak Mk 1...I guess that's all. Now I'm gonna haul 'em all out in the back yard and see how many will run! I have, I think, 5 ready to go if they all run OK, plus 3 1/4A types but not for beginner fliers I'm afraid. Things happen too quick on 15' lines.
Anyhow, I figure 5 old Deltas plus whatever else I can drag along will see us through at least one afternoon of instruction. Oh yeah, Frank, what a life! Getting these kids away from the video games and outside is one worthwhile endeavor, at least...
--Ray
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KEITH, BOB, DOC, RAY, I am honored to share this lazy, laid back pass time with gentlemen such as yourselves. Your additions to this thread have expanded it considerably to reflect the fact that the rat race isn't the only game in town.
From what I have witnessed thus far in my long and somewhat pointless life is that every single person no matter what they do, no matter what they achieve and no matter how hard or how little they strive will eventually end up in an urn or aslumber for eternity beneath a granite stone. That being the case I can find no reason not to pack up my plane and head for the playground.
Ray--be sure to instill within the minds of your young gents a strong yen for the aroma of freshly cooked castor as it steams out of the muffler of a model airplane engine, the joy of shaping balsa and the wonders of CA.
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KEITH, BOB, DOC, RAY, I am honored to share this lazy, laid back pass time with gentlemen such as yourselves. Your additions to this thread have expanded it considerably to reflect the fact that the rat race isn't the only game in town.
From what I have witnessed thus far in my long and somewhat pointless life is that every single person no matter what they do, no matter what they achieve and no matter how hard or how little they strive will eventually end up in an urn or aslumber for eternity beneath a granite stone. That being the case I can find no reason not to pack up my plane and head for the playground.
Ray--be sure to instill within the minds of your young gents a strong yen for the aroma of freshly cooked castor as it steams out of the muffler of a model airplane engine, the joy of shaping balsa and the wonders of CA.
Hi Frank,
This an awesome hobby, and I am very glad it became a part of my life, and quite by accident. I am also very happy to have met so many geat guys, and gals, who do this. Like I said in my "Why I fly........." post...........
I get some funny looks, and comments, sometimes from those with their heads so far up their butts that they don't want to see someone else enjoy life! Especially with the way I look and my "profession"...........
BTW: you have got to start sharing that "stuff" that you use before you write some of these posts!!!!! Or else step away from the open quarts of dope...........
LOL!!
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Bill,
The stuff I use before posting is just a book I'm currently reading.
LOLITA by Vladimir Nabokov
Man this guy has a way with spinning a yarn. I've just gotten my hands on a box of old time westerns.
BTW---Jan and I are scheduled to hit the ball diamond at 8 p.m. this evening for a double header of model flying. Then 8 a.m. tomorrow morning. What a sublime waste of time.
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You guys have me scared..for now, Im staying far, far away from the stats. section...for now...well, maybe until tomorrow morning!
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Only thing smells better , is castor in a race car;but you don,t get the chance any more.
Strangely enough ;to me, rear end grease in a bad (leaky :rear end , runs a close second.
Guess theres no accounting for taste (or smell).
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KEITH, BOB, DOC, RAY, I am honored to share this lazy, laid back pass time with gentlemen such as yourselves. Your additions to this thread have expanded it considerably to reflect the fact that the rat race isn't the only game in town.
From what I have witnessed thus far in my long and somewhat pointless life is that every single person no matter what they do, no matter what they achieve and no matter how hard or how little they strive will eventually end up in an urn or aslumber for eternity beneath a granite stone. That being the case I can find no reason not to pack up my plane and head for the playground.
Ray--be sure to instill within the minds of your young gents a strong yen for the aroma of freshly cooked castor as it steams out of the muffler of a model airplane engine, the joy of shaping balsa and the wonders of CA.
Nahhh, I'm gonna leave their ears ringing with unmuffled .049s. I believe my BW is the loudest, it is a particularly good one--fastest .049 I have, only thing I have that'll outrun it is the .061s. . Castor though, you bet, I doctor my fuel so I can run it in my Fox .35 on the rare occasions I get it out. Doesn't seem to hurt the little ones although they run a little sloppy. Gotta have the smell, though.
I just got in from running 7 different engines on my back porch. Good thing too; I found one tank problem, two bad glow plugs (one burned out, one leaking compression), and one needle valve leak. That should save some headaches at the field.
--Ray
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Only thing smells better , is castor in a race car;but you don,t get the chance any more.
Strangely enough ;to me, rear end grease in a bad (leaky :rear end , runs a close second.
Guess theres no accounting for taste (or smell).
Hi Charlie, I understand that the early Offys liked Castor oil! It WAS widely used in the old days. BTW: when I read the rear end grease part, I could smell the grease!