Early for a Sunday, but two events in New England this weekend and next have gotten me thinking.

I posted yesterday about my "happy place". As you probably know, my other happy place is sitting on a hot airfield sucking jet fumes.


The USN Blue Angels did a flyby over the USS Constitution last week; they are at Brunswick NAS, Maine yesterday and today.

Next weekend, the USAF Thunderbirds are here at Pease Air Reserve Base, NH.

I am giving strong consideration to going - especially if Javi can get his butt up here from Providence on Friday afternoon.

Check the date - next Saturday is September 11.

With the military present in Trump-loving Cow Hampshire, I of course will expect a lot of histrionics as a part of the aviation goings-on.

But it's somewhat an act of defiance for me.

Years ago now, I wrote about my choice to remember the events of that day. For years, I ducked my head and looked away whenever I heard a plane flying on September 11. I reclaimed 'my' skies in 2014, and have been my usual aviation addict ever since.

On the anniversary in 2018, I made further observations about what a pornographic event the annual commemorations have become. That year, I chose to stop paying attention, and despite knowing somebody that was in the North Tower (He lived) I simply have stopped obsessing about 9-11 forevermore.

It would seem to me to be a full-circle journey to sit on an airfield and watch planes fly on the twentieth anniversary.