Greetings loyal airmen.  At the risk of sounding too melancholy, I'm going to jump around this week and discuss a few things that have been on my mind this past week.   Last week-end, Labor Day, we closed up the pool once again.  Now when looking out the kitchen window to the back yard we no longer see the clear reflective rays off the sun off the shimmering water, but rather a long, drab gray piece of canvas locked down to the patio as if burying some unwanted family secret.   An all too short season having come to a close again.

Now we enter that undecided period where you could wake up to cool morning and think a false frost was on the way and then by noon time be sweltering in hot, dog-days September weather.  Lots of state fairs popping up all over the region these days.  Veggies unpicked in gardens are starting to turn overly ripe and in danger of spoiling on the vines.  And if those tomatoes haven't turned red yet, most likely they never will.  Time for a little fried GREEN tomatoes.  Another big change are the return of those noisy, cumbersme yellow school buses roving our streets in the wee hours of the morning collecting their raucous, energetic and often times sour faced riders.  Yup, school is back in session, oh joy, oh joy.  If you're Mom & Dad, you are probably dancing a jig about now.  If you're Junior and Sissy, you are wondering where the hell summer went to and how can a teacher be so heartless as to give out homework assignments on the FIRST DAY BACK!!  That's just wrong!

Of course with the return of school, so too come the afternoon soccer games.  Both our granddaughters, Krisit and Chelsea play and we try to make as many of their games as we can.  Kristi started her sophomore year of high school the other day, Chelsea entered seventh grade.  It is obviously clear that they are not little girls anymore and overnight, or so it seems to Val and I, they have morphed into beautiful young ladies.  Kristi even has a steady beau! Watching her march off the soccer field the other night, surrounded by her laughing and giggling girlfriends, another much more serious thought crossed my mind.   Kristi is learning to drive now, as are most of her peers.  Soon she will be applying for and taking her driver's test.  And that does scare me.  Oh, not because I think she is unprepared or irresponsible.  Quite the opposite.  But unfortunately she is not every teenage girl and boy getting their licenses this year.  And it seems, by all accounts and recorded data, more and more of these wonderful, innocent young adults are getting into tragic accidents resulting in the loss of life.  I'm sure all of you airmen, from wherever part of the country you reside in, are familiar with dozens of stories of young people dying in such collisions, the promise of their lives cut short in one frightful moment of recklessness.

Automobiles are not toys.  Driving them requires care and concentration at all times.  And it is the responsiblity of every parent out there to teach that to their young teenagers before they get the keys to the family car.  Sadly in a world where most adult drivers don't practice good driving habits (…ah..the cell phone to the ear while trying to navigate at high speeds through a traffic jam).  Those are the kinds of examples we give our kids.  Shame on us. All of us. If you have a son or daughter, niece or nephew, grand kids, getting their licenses this year, please, take a moment with them to explain the severity of what they are about to take on.  Teach them not only to be good drivers, but to always, always look out for the other guy.  That's all any of us can do.  Then maybe we'll be attending lots more soccer games and graduations as we should, with happy hearts and not tears.

I'm off to the dentist once again in a few hours.  A couple of old fillings need replacing.  Wish they could come up with some kind of “stuff” that was permanent.  Now wouldn't that be something?  Oh, and before I leave you all. Two really cool new movies are out today.  One is a cartoony shoot'em up called…SHOOT'EM UP.  What else?  Looks like pure escapist fun for all us action junkies.  The other is a remake of a classic western, 3:10 TO YUMA, that starred Glenn Ford and Van Heflin and was based on an Elmore Leonard story.  I plan on seeing this new, action heavy remake, but would urge you to find the original if you've never seen it.  It really is a classic. I hope the remake lives up to it.

Have a great week, Ron, Over and Out.

Well loyal airmen, here we are.  The Labor Day weekend is here and with it the unofficial end of summer.  In fact we are closing up the pool tomorrow afternoon.  Much to our annual frowns, groans and moans that the season, at least here in New England, really is too short.  You no sooner start getting a steady diet of nice, warm weather and then zap, it's over.  September rushes kids back to school and within a month, all the leaves will change color and fall to the earth.  Bare bones, skeletal limbs will reach outward welcoming the first cold frost of winter,  Sorry to be waxing poetic, but it's simply that we do enjoy those short summer weeks so much.  Then again maybe their brevity is the why of that appreciation.  Oh well, it's the weather.  What can you do?

                             
One of the most enduring comic strip heroes is the Ghost Who Walks, THE PHANTOM.  Created in 1936 by writer/artist Lee Falk, he was not the first strip super hero, but he was the first to wear a skin-tight outfit and not show his eyes through his mask slots.  Both of which have become comic book standards.  Falk did both write and draw the black and white daily strip for the for two weeks of its existence and then he was assigned an artist by the syndicate.  Since those days, the Phantom has gone on to thrill fans in pratically every entertainment venue you can name.  There was a 40s cliffhanger serial with Tom Tyler that was wonderful.  And most recently the big budget actioner that starred Billy Zane.  Although it did not do well here in the states, it was a big success overseas where the character is still highly popular.  Note, the above sketch of the Phantom and his wolf, Devil, was rendered by my good friend, Tom Floyd.  If you would like to know more about this purple clad hero, go to the internet's own Wikipedia.  The entry there is very complete and fun to read.

I bring this all up because my latest published fiction is a Phantom short story.  You see, Mooonstone Publishing, which puts out the Phantom comic books, has just released the first ever Phantom prose anthology with 17 brand new adventures of the Ghost Who Walks.  Besides your humble air crew chief, this beautiful volume features tales by Martin Powell, Steven Grant and other well known writers of the fantastic.  Again the book is now available in books stores, comic shops and on-line, so if you like fast paced action starring a truly classic American hero.  Please, go out and pick up a copy.  Then drop me a line and let me know how you liked it?  Feedback on any of my books is always most welcome.

Lastly, after watching it for three weeks in a row, I am throwing in the towel on the Sci-Fi channels new Flash Gordon series.  It is so cheaply done and ill conceived, it is actually painful to watch.  Flash Gordon, much like the Phantom had his roots in the newspaper strips of the 30s.  He was the creation of writer/artist Alex Raymond.  And like the Phantom, was later translated into all kinds of media.  Buster Crabbe portrayed him to perfection in three amazing serials from Universal that are still fun to watch.  At least they had imagination, something completely lacking in this new series.  When I first learned the show would not have any spaceships or ray blasters, I knew things did not bode well for this iconic hero.  Sure enough, the episodes come across as cheap rip-offs of SLIDERS, whereas Flash and company go from one planet to another via these silly warp holes in the air.  No intergalactic space travel…NO ROCKET SHIPS!!!   Look, I do understand that it costs lots and lots of money to produce a TV series, but even a budget minded show should have good stories.  Ironically Sci-Fi has slated the turkey right after another cheaply produced hour show, only one that has so much imagination, as a viewer I simply laugh off the cheap FXs.  That show is the new DOCTOR WHO and it is one of the best shows on TV today.  The people responsible for Flash Gordon should take a serious look at that program.  Maybe they could learn a thing or two.  But for a later time.  Right now I just want this awful mess gone.  The sooner the better.

There you have it, airmen.  I hope all of you will have a fantastic Labor Day weekend and send off the summer of 2007 with a bang.  Ron, over and out.

Greeting loyal airmen.  Here we are watching August roll by and all too soon summer will be over and just another memory to add to the collection of life.  Been doing a lot of that this past week, remembering various things because of events or situations that have arisen.  The past, for most of us is a foundation and no matter how much we grow and rise in the world, it remains the constant taht supports us.  Or, if you want to be whimsical, it's the anchor you simply cannot shake free off.  Here's a couple of examples of that.

As a kid growing up in the 50s and 60s, we did not have the luxury of today's sophisitcated entertainment toys. I still remember life without television, of sitting around on Saturday afternoons and my parents read comic books (westerns for him and romance for her) and listened to the big old wooden radio in the living room corner.  When that first black and white Zenith arrived, we all thought we'd died and gone to heaven, so overwhelmingly outrageous was the invention of TV.  But I digress, back to my tale.

We did have a stereo phonograph and my mother bought lots of albums, in particular those of Broadway musicals that featured the original casts.  One of her favorites, which she played over and over was Roger and Hammerstein's classic, SOUTH PACIFIC.  For the rookies out there, this wonderful musical play was based on two short stories in writer James A. Michener's Pulitzer Prize winning collection, TALES OF THE SOUTH PACIFIC.  The musical tells the story, in truly wonderful songs, of a Navy nurse who falls in love with a French plantation owner and must come to grips with her inbred prejudices, all set against the backdrop of a cruel war in paradise like world.  Songs like SOME ENCHANTED EVENING, BALI HAI, and YOUNGER THAN SPRINGTIME, have since become standards recognized all over the globe.  Never mind that, I was hearing these tunes almost daily during my formative teen years and can actually remember riding the bus my freshmen year of high school humming them to myself.  Heaven forbid my pals would have heard me sing show tunes! 

Now jump ahead an entire lifetime and Valerie informs me last week and the Hackmatack theater, a real country barn turned into a theater for summer stock located in the nearby community of  North Berwick, Me., is doing SOUTH PACIFIC.   She then proceeded to call and reserve four tickets to the second matinee and we invited both our mothers to attend with us.  The show was yesterday afternoon and it was absolutely fantastic.  The cast was extremely talented, in fine voice, all of them, and I could see my mom was having the time of her life.  Never mind that she, yours truly, and 90% of the audience were mouthing the lyrics with each and every song.  It was such a fun experience.  Small summer stock theaters like this one operate all around the country and are fine teaching venues for these talented actors and musicians.  If there is one near you, I hope you'll take the time to see a show and support them.  This would be such a sadder world without live theater.

                                       
My second trip into the past deals with my association with the Green Hornet comic book series.  It is the one comic series I am most remembered for and I'm quite proud of my work on it.  Over the past month or so there is has been lots of media attention focused on the character because a new movie is supposedly in the works to star comic actor Seth Grogen.  I personally hope it never gets made.  Grogen is a comedian and …well, I really just hope this dissappears fast.  Meanwhile I was contacted several days ago by a young writer who is putting together what he says will be the definitive history of the character, from his birth on WXYZ Radio in Detroit in the 1930s, to his film and TV appearances and finally his comic career.  To that end this fellow is hoping to pick my brain on all the whens and hows of our particular comic series.  And once again I'm digging into the vault of memories and mentally reliving some truly wonderful times in my life.  I'll keep you posted on this project as it develops.  The above illo is by my good friend, Blake Wilkie.

Finally a few more tid-bits to wrap up this week's entry.  Last week I mentioned we were going to see the new sword and sandal film THE LAST LEGION.  Well we did and it gets a big thumbs up.  Sadly the studio behind this feature is not giving it any real support, so I suspect it won't be out long.  If you like great action with a smidgen of fantasy, I strongly urge you to see THE LAST LEGION before it's gone. 

This week's Pulp Fiction Review features my comments on the first ever Ms. Tree novel by her creator, Max Allan Collins.  Comic fans will know this was one of the most original comic characters ever done in the past twenty years and at long last she has her own book.  Check out my link above for the full review.

And lastly, I would like to offer my condolences to the family of the late comic artist, Mike Wieringo, who died suddenly last week.  Mike was a relatively young man, in his mid-40s I believe, who drew with a unique style that was both beautiful and fun.  His work was a breath of fresh air in a media that is all too often rife with the same old stuff.  But not Mike, his art was just gorgeous..and again that word, FUN.  His passing was a shock to all of us who love comics and he will be sorely missed.

That's it for another week, airmen.  Here's hoping you all get out there and enjoy the last of summer with abandon fun.  Go make some new memories.  Ron – Over and Out.

Greetings loyal airman. This is going to be a fast Log Entry, as we hope to go out later this morning and catch a matinee movie.  I'll be discussing that movie shortly.  But first up, take a look at my latest piece of pulp action.
                                      
                                       

Father Michael Ryan was a marine chaplain during the Pacific Campaign in World War II.  Upon his return home to Federal City, he finds his old neighborhood under siege by a new enemy, organized crime.  With a bat in one hand and a rosary in the other, this battling padre is going to fight the good fight and clean up the streets.  This new chapter book is now on sale and I hope you'll check it out  I've posted it on our Air Fare page with a link to the store site.  The book was produced and designed by my pal Anthony Schiavino, and the gorgeous art throughout is by the talented Dave Flora.  I think its a winner and hope you'll agree.

I have always been fascinated by the King Arthur legend and over the years have collected many books, both historical and fictional dealing with this magnificent King of Brittania and the stories of the Knights of the Round Table.  I also have many movies on the theme, some great, others so-so.  Above is a statue we found during one of our vacation trips to Florida years ago. Arthur getting ready to free the magic sword Excalibur from the stone in which it was imprisoned, awaiting the rightful king.  It's a beautiful piece and I marvel at it every time I look it.  So why this discussion?  Several months ago I discovered a new book which you might say is a prelude to the entire legend.  Every wonder exactly where Excalibur came from and how it ended up in that stone?

That's the plot of THE LAST LEGION by italian writer, Valerio Massimo Manfredi.  It is an exciting, wonderful adventure book that starts in Italy during the last days of the Roman Empire.  I've written a complete review if you are interested, and its posted at my Pulp Fiction Review site (see link above).   No sooner had I started reading this fun book when I learned Hollywood had actually made a film loosely based on it.   And that is the movie Valerie and I hope to be seeing in the next few hours.  I hope all of you will also have a terrific weekend.
See you back here in seven days.

Ron – Over and Out.

Greetings loyal airman.  Looks like I'm going to be a few minutes later posting this week.  Was a very hectic morning for your old Air Chief.  I had an early dentist appointment.  Simply a regular cleaning, but you have to know you can never get out of a dentist's office so easy.  Nope, amidst all the plaque scraping and whatever, my dentist discovered two old fillings that need replacing.  Oh joy, oh joy.  Schedule another visit at this fun emporium.  Sorry, gang, but I am too old to think of dentist offices as anything but a torture chamber.  Call it a generational thing, but that's how I'm wired.

Meanwhile, as I sat in that chair, my feet pointing to ceiling and my mouth full of someone else's hands, one of the receptionist entered the room and said I'd just gotten a call from home to stop at my mother's house after leaving.  Of course I immediately knew 83 year old Mom was going to be sending me off other errands.  By the time I finally left the dentist, ran Mom's errands, and a few of our own, it was past 11 AM and I still hadn't had anything to eat all morning.  Came home to find Val had made one of my favorites, chili, and I didn't waste any time having an early lunch.  Now noon is only ten minutes away and I here I jot this week's Flight Log.  This one is about how some movies are very much like a good wine and the last book by a true great pulp writer.

Way back in 1987, Tri-Star pictures released a wonderful little horror gem called THE MONSTER SQUAD.  It was co-written by Fred Dekker and Shane Black, directed by Dekker.  Dekker had been a long time fan of the classic horror-comedy, ABBOT & COSTELLO MEET FRANKENSTEIN, the Universal black and white movie wherein that classic comedy duo meet all the three top horror monsters, Frankenstein, Dracula and the Wolfman.  Dekker's idea was what would happen if the same monsters were to meet up with a group of kids much like the old LITTLE RASCALS gang.   And thus was THE MONSTER SQUAD born, made and released, Dekker even threw in the Mummy and the Creature From the Black Lagoon for good measure.  Sadly what Dekker didn't take into account was  the studio wouldn't know how to market the finished movie.  Sure enough, upon seeing the trailers (previews) with all those scary monsters, parents opted to keep their children away from this movie.  Couldn't have the little ones having nightmares now, could we?  And so Dekker's briliiant, funny film came and went and was relegated to the video afterlife.

And that's where things started to take a turn for the better.  You see, once released on video tape, sales did well as now parents could actually view the movie before their kids.  Once they realized it was pretty much harmless fun, the kids got to see it.  As for those of us who never saw the tape, well, God bless cable TV because, good or bad, that's where all movies do end up.  Which is where I first saw THE MONSTER SQUAD and I remember liking it a whole lot.  I love the story about how the classic monsters invade a small town in the USA and the only ones who are aware of their presence is a group of imaginative, fun loving kids.  It is up to them to battle the monsters and save the day.  I also liked that the classic monsters were extremely well respected in this outing and it was clear to see in every scene that Dekker and his crew truly wanted to make something special.
And they did.  It just took us a little longer to find it.

And find it we did, all us lovers of wonky, monster movies.  Twenty years rolled by and an entire generation of tykes grew up loving this long forgotten movie.  Of course Dekker, his crew and his cast had absolutely no idea what a cult following their efforts had garnered.  Then a few years ago Dekker was called by people putting on a monster convention and asked if he and some of the cast might like to be guests.  He and a few of the actors accepted believing they would show up, meet a few dozen fans and that would be it.  What they found instead was a long – long line of devoted, fanatical people who had grown up loving their movie!  Suddenly, after twenty years, THE MONSTER SQUAD was a hit!  Honestly, and its popularity continues to swell.  After that first convention, Dekker and company attended several others, each one bigger and better.  Finally two weeks ago, Liongates Film released a 2 Disc- Anniversary DVD of the film.  It sold out everywhere, from the shelves of the big chain stores like Best Buy, Circuit City and Wal-Mart, to all the on-line DVD sellers.  Deep Discount for two weeks ranked it as its number one seller, and within the first few days of its release had sold out their stock and was hurriedly doing re-orders.  I'm imagining right now someone at Lionsgate is both stunned and delirously happy.  They have a classic on their hands.

Perhaps the most popular sleeper movie of all time was Frank Capra's IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE.  To an refutable part of the Christmas season, the movie actual was a flop when it was released in 1946.  A complete dud at the box office.  But once it landed on TV many years later, it would build and find a receptive audience that understood what the movie goers had missed.  Very much like THE MONSTER SQUAD today.  Ergo, my thoughts on how a really good wine is one that sits in a cellar for decades before it is opened.  The aging process being a vital part of the ultimate taste experience.  So too certain movie masterpieces that somehow slip by as at the movie hall, only to ferment on the cable channel for years on end until we, the jaded audience, are ready to come around appreciate their delight.  Bravo Fred Dekker and MONSTER SQUAD FOREVER!!

                                
Finally, as most of you know my second web home is my Pulp Fiction Review column.  See the link above this entry.  I love doing these reviews and am pleased to tell you I have a very loyal core of readers.  Recently among the latest batch of books to arrive at the old Hangar 27 was the very last mystery thriller by the late Mickey Spillane, DEAD CITY.  Spillane, who died last year, was one of the finest American writers to ever spin a tale.  This final book, produced after his death by his protege, mystery writer Max Alan Collins, is a steerling effort by a master who was at the top of his game to the end.  For my full review, clink on to the lin above.

And that, loyal airmen, wraps up another week.  Thanks as ever for stopping by,
Ron – Over and out.

                      
Greetings loyal airmen.  I hope this week has been a good one for all of you.  The above picture of our back yard was taken by our granddaughter, Chelsea.   When Valerie and I moved here all those many years ago, the fenced in pool was as you see it.  But the yard was simply grass. Within a year of making this our home, someone offered us a jungle-gym set.  As our grand kids were still young enough to enjoy one of these, we gladly accepted the gift and my son-in-law, Chris, and I set it up solidly by mooring the poles in cement.  So time moves on, the grand kids get older, some move away and one day there's just no one left to play on the gym set.  Which is when Valerie had the wonderful idea of repainting it green, adding bird feeders and turning the base into a flower garden.  For the next couple of summers we slowly began to make the changes and the results were amazing.  Year after year we added permanent plants around the perimeter along the fence and we redo the annuals in the bed every Spring, then clean it up in the Fall.

One of the first things we learned is how much birds of every kind love the splash color the flowers bring.  Thus, with the beauty of the flowers, we also have dozens of blue jays, cardinals, finches, morning doves and many more flitting about our yard and the converted jungle-gym.   Several days ago, Chelsea called asking if she could come over and spend the night with us.  Summer is speeding along, and unlike her older sister who has a job, Chelsea found her days getting a bit long and tedious.  Of course we are always delighted to have any of  our grand kids visit and told her to come on over.   We watched the Red Sox game together that night, after dinner, then made plans to go see the new Simpson movie the next day at a matinee.

That morning, Valerie and I were sitting outside having our coffee when Chelsea finally joined us.  Valerie noticed a humming bird flitting around the flowers and told Chelsea to get her camera out of the kitchen.  Chelsea then proceeded to take a few pictures, including the one above.  After she and Val went back inside to get her breakfast, I sat there finishing my coffee and enjoying the view.  I started thinking about how beautiful those flowers are, and the birds that visit us daily.  For a moment, I was smart enough to appreciate the truly simple miracles that surround me daily.  I am a man blessed with so many riches.  Oh, not the kind you put in the bank, but the more substantial things; health, family, friends and a truly good life.  All of which was mirrored back to me by simply sitting there and enjoying those brightly colored petals.

What I was unaware of that time was that within a few hours, somewhere on a bridge in Minneapolis, MN, dozens of men and women would be facing disaster.   None of them could have possibly guessed when they awoke that morning that it would be the last day of their lives.  That bridge, as you all know, collapsed without warning and sent many plunging in their cars six stroies into the river below.  The images on the television these pass two days have been jarring.   All that concrete and steel buckled up like so much cardboard.  That so many actually survived is an even greater miracle.

All of which made me think of writer Thorton Wilder's book, The Bridge At San Luis Rey.   The story begins with a group of people on a bus traveling through the Mexican countryside on dark and rainy night.  The bus comes to an old wooden bridge and it collapses.  All on board are killed.  Then the novel proceeds to go back in time and tell us who all these people where and how their lives intersected in time and space up to the moment they stepped up onto that bus for the last journey of their lives.  It's a powerful image.  All of us will die one day but none of us has a clue when that time will come.  Sitting on the patio the other day I took a few precious minutes away from the hustle and bustle to simply look at the world around me and thank God for it.  Enjoy every second of life you have, here and now.  Those men and women in Minneapolis never knew when they started driving across that bridge that they would never reach the other side.  Something not only to think about, but to learn from.  Life is such a fleeting gift, please appreciate it fully …while you still can.

Ron, over and out.

Greetings loyal airman.  Well, unless you've been on vacation in the anartic recently, I'm sure all of you are aware of the amazing media blitz stirred up all around the world by the release last week of  J.K.Rowling's sevent and final Harry Potter book; HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS.  All the major retailers and book stores were having midnight release-parties that have become the norm for this series.  I had no such intention myself, being quite comfortable that night watching a Red Sox ball game on televsion.  Then the phone rang and it was our oldest granddaughter, Kristi, wanting to know if…1) I was going to the store at midnight to pick up a copy and …2) would I get one for her?   To which I replied, but of course, dear.  Look, there's just no way I'm ever going to say no to her, her sister, Chelsea or their cousins, Alex, Cora, Taryn and Logan.  I love my grand kids to the moon and back.

So the Red Sox won.  I watched the local late night news, then put on my sneakers and headed out the door at quarter to midnight.  Ten minutes later I was standing in a very long line of happy people in the garden section of our local Walmart.  Must have been at least a hundred people when I got there.  Then for sure another hundred soon fell in step behind me.  Having never done anything like this before, I soon found myself in a charming conversation with several Harry Potter fans either in front or right behind me.  One lady, about my age, was there to pick up two books as well, one for herself and the other for her thirty year old son.  While behind me a mother was there with her teenage son and daughter, having left a note on the kitchen table for her sleeping husband should he awaken to find his family missing.  Between the five of us, for the next thirty minutes, we talked about books and our love of reading.  It was so much fun.  By the time we had reached the cash registers and I was paying for my two big hardbound copies, I was sorry to have to say good-bye and tipped my hat to them, expressing my sincere pleasure at having met them all and shared this experience with them.

Driving home, I couldn't help but think that was something else I owed J.K.Rowling.  Yesterday I finished reading that book and can honestly say it is absolutley the perfect ending to her truly amazing saga.   Looking at the inside front pages of the very first book, HARRY POTTER AND THE SORCERER'S STONE, I learned that it was released in England in 1997 and the American edition arrived here the following year.  Making the series ten years old.  Kristi was all of seven when that first book came out in the states, a precocious lover of books thanks to having both a mother and grandfather who are fanatical readers.  And truth be known, it was her childlike fascination with that first book that stirred my own curiosity and ultimately made me a fan.  Over those ten years, we've shared our thoughts and ideas on the series with each new book and we also became big time enthusiasts of the movie series based upon them. 

Why are the Harry Potter books so good?  Even classic?  Without getting into too many plot elements or giving away any facts of the last chapter, I can answer that quite easily.  Because Rowling, like all great writers before her, understands that all literature is about the struggles in life (be their real or fictional) between good and evil.  Harry Potter is an orphaned wizard whose parents were murderd by the evil Lord Voldemort.  Good versus evil.  What Harry learns quickly at the Hogwarts school of magic is that what saved him from Voldemort's killing curse was his dying mother's love.  The schools' headmaster, Dumbledore, tries to teach Harry just how powerful love truly is.  In the course of these seven books, Harry, in maturing to manhood, comes to understand the truth of that very simple fact.  There is nothing more magical or powerful in all of creation than …love!  It is what Jesus, Mohammed and all the great philosophers of history have taught us time and time again, but we are a stubborn lot we humans.  We get so caught up in our daily careers and quest for fame and fortune that this one lone truth often eludes us.  Oh, we say we understand it, but then proceed to live our lives so wrongly, it is clear we don't really get it.

LOVE!  It is all the magic your heart and soul will ever need.  LOVE…it is the reason for living and yes, when the time comes, for dying.  It will keep you young, it will make you see all the true beauty and miracles every glorious day has to offer.  And it will shield you against despair, hopelessness and all those other evils out there.  Harry Potter learns that truth and becomes the greatest wizard of them all.   It is my daily prayer that all you loyal airmen will be blessed with it as well.

That said, have a great week.  We'll see you in seven.  Ron, over and out.

Greetings loyal airmen.  It hasn't been all that great a week around the old 27 Hangar.  Two main causes of gloom are the weather and the Red Sox.  It seems while the rest of the country has been roasting and suffering awful forest fires throughout the west, we here in New England have had four steady days of heavy rains.  Rains, that would be heaven sent to all those fire-fighters battling those horrendous blazes.  We look out at our backyard every day and see our flowers bending under the never-ending downpours and wonder if the sun is ever going to show his face again?

Then we turn on the TV at night and watch our beloved Red Sox implode with some of the worst playing imaginable.  I'm worried that my talk about superstitions last week may have been a jinx in and of itself, because bad luck or karma (whatever you want to call it) seems to have made Fenway Park its home.   The pitching is at the heart  of their woes, with Julien Tavarez proving once and for all he is NOT a starter.  The guy can't get through three innings without getting into trouble.  And now their 51 Million Dollar Wonder Boy from Japan, Dice-K is looking to have as much talent as a Double-A rookie.  His performance his last two outings should have the front office sick to their collective stomachs.  July 31st is the trading cut-off.  The last day teams can trade players.  I'm betting, hell, I'm praying we're going to see some major changes come August 1st.  Because if we don't…well, that's too sad to contemplate.

Another sour note.  Yesterday it was announced in Hollywood that actor/comedian, Seth Grogen, was going to be involved with a new Green Hornet movie.  The Green Hornet is a character I was intimately involved with for several years, as the main writer of his adventures for Now Comics.  Thing is Grogen the pudgy guy who recently co-starred in the hilarious romantic comedy, KNOCKED UP.  If they are really considering having him portray the Hornet, then they cannot be serious in their approach to the material.  All I am envisioning is they will camp it up and turn it into a farce like Adam West did to Batman years ago.  The idea disgust me.  Let's hope it is just a stupid, Hollywood rumor.  They are really good at promoting those.

Of course there were glimmers of fun, happy moments.  One was having our granddaughter, Chelsea, spend a night with us this past week.  We took her to see the new Harry Potter (Harry Potter & the Order of the Phoenix) movie and all of us give it a big thumbs up.  The movie is very grim, but does convey the book it is based on and works extremely well in setting up the conflicts that will arise in the subsequent chapters.  Speaking of which, J.K.Rowlings's final installment hits bookstore shelves tonight at midnight.  I can't wait to dig into this  final volume of the boy wizard's adventures.  It's been a fun ride and my hat is off to Rowlings to proving once and for all that kids will indeed read, if you give them something that is worthwhile reading.  Something that grabs their imaginations and doesn't let go.  If you've never read a Harry Potter book, do yourselves a big favor and try one.  You might be surprised.

                                
Speaking of such, the good folks at Ace Books were gracious enough to send me a review copy of  the novel, 52 by Greg Cox.  It is the novelization of the year long comics series DC recently wrapped up.  I'm half way through it and enjoying it immensely.  Thank God for good books on rainy days.   Of course I'll be posting a complete review at my Pulp Fiction Reviews site when done.  But in the meanwhile, should you see the book, pick it up.  It is much, much fun.

And there you go.  A ho-hum, wet soggy week we seem to have survived.  Here's hoping that big yellow orb that rides the skies makes an appearance real soon.

Ron – Over and Out.

Greeting loyal airmen.  The country has really been in the deep frier this past week, hasn't it?  Oddly enough only two parts of the country have been spared this awful heat; Oregon and Eastern New England to encompass New Hampshire and Maine.  Living in NH, we were part of the very lucky few who had mild, temperate weather all week.  In fact the sun only popped out here yesterday afternoon.  Whereas I mentioned the word lucky here, it segues nicely into topics for this week's log entry.

I sometimes plan these entries and other times I just take whatever comes at me unexpectedly.  Up until this morning, I was going to speak about books and my love of reading.  It's a addiction I've had since I first learned to prounounce the word invulnerable.  You see, it kept being used in the Superman comics I was reading as a child and drove me crazy.  I was forever pestering my mother to say the word and define it for me.  Well, she took that for only so long and finally sat down me down on the floor, opened a huge dictionary in front me and taught me what it was and how to use.  Talk about a light flicking on in my brain!  I've never been the same since. Thanks, Mom. Oh, and for you non-readers (..I find it hard to believe any loyal airmen is a non-reader by the way) the word invulnerable means impervious to harm.  Superman can not be harmed.  Except for kryptonite, but that came later.  Moving on.

I continue to be an avid reader and generally will knock off anywhere between fifty and sixty novels a year.  And that doesn't count my copies of National Geographic (which I read cover to cover) or all the comic books I devour in the same twelve month period.  Like I said, I love reading.  But here's the true irony, because reading gave me such a love of the English language and fiction, it was only inevitable that I would one day become a writer.  And when you are writing, you cannot be reading.  It is a wicked curse.  Still, I manage to get it done and a few years ago even started reviewing the books I read in a personal blog…Pulp Fiction Reviews.  There's a link to it just above this entry.  If you've never checked it out, give it a look-see.  To those hundreds of you who have and come back on a regular basis, thank you so much.  That column has become very successful to the point where it is recognized by lots of publishers who not only quote my comments, but many have begun sending me new books to review.  Free books!  It just doesn't get any better than that. 

Last week, Barnes & Noble had a huge sale on their website to deplete their over stocked inventory.  They listed hundreds of titles for sale at tremendous discounts.   Some were as low as $2.  I immediately went through their list and ordered five.  When they arrived, two I set aside to eventually review in my column.  Whereas the other three were non action-adventure titles that I simply was going to read for the pleasure.  One was a memoir, the other a political tome by Sean Hannity (..remember, your Hangar Chief is a Conservative Republican, a truly incurable condition) and a book called Jinxed.  I began to get the notion that this week I would discuss those particular three books under a heading of “Books I Won't Be Reviewing.”  But when I awoke this morning, Valerie reminded me what day it was; Friday the 13th!!

                                   
Wait a second, my mind flashed.  I dug through my new stack of books and pulled out JINXED edited by Ken Leiker. I am not a superstious soul.  Never have been.  Which is why these kind of things have always amused me and I am fascinated by people who shape their lives around such omens, good or bad.  Of course atheletes are among the most superstitious folks in the world, none more so than baseball players.  In the four years since Valerie and I have become fans of the game, we have often marveled at the bizarre habits and rituals each and every player seems to adhere to passionately.  You've only to watch certain hitters when they come up to bat to understand what I am talking about.   Julio Lugo, the Red Sox short-stop, takes his stance, stares at the pitcher and then, with his right hand, gently pulls up the material of his shirt on his left shoulder.  He does it every single time.   Jason Varitek, the catcher, when batting left hand, jerks his right leg up several times before getting into a ready stance.  When he bats right handed, it is the left leg that gets jerked.

I could go on and on.  Which is the point of this marvelous little collection edited by Mr. Leiker.  I haven't had time to read through all of it yet, but the few pages I've peeked at had me chuckling aloud.  Others had me almost crying.  Pitcher Curt Schilling's father died before he made it to the pros.  Still, every game he pitches, Curt buys a ticket for his Dad and has it left at the front box office.  God bless him.  See what I mean.  Superstitions, if not taken seriously, can provide some fun and spice up one's daily life. Again, as long as you keep things in their proper perspectives. 

So, don't go walking under any ladders today and be just a bit weary of black cats.
Ron – Over & Out.

Greetings loyal airmen and a belated Happy 4th of July to all of you.  What with America celebrating a birthday this week, we, as a nation have been celebrating with traditional parades, games and food.  From flag waving to baseball games and Mom's apple pie, all the things we cherish that make us the greatest free nation in the world.  And as luck with have it, the Fortier family did its share of celebrating as well.  All of which got me to thinking about wood.  Look at trees, watch them grow and then, if you can, pay attention to those things we manufacture from wood. Things like baseball bats.

Aross the state line in the town of Sanford, Maine, is a small ballpark.  It was built to host a collegiate baseball team and they are called the Sanford Mainers.  Every summer, the good people of Sanford fill those seats almost every night to support and cheer on their team.  It is such a great atmosphere to bring the family, to eat all those things you aren't suppose to eat, like hot dogs, sausage subs, hamburgers, french fries, popcorn, ice cream and soda.  But who cares?  To sit there and watch all those talented young men race out onto the diamond and as the lights go on, evening falls and the umpire cries, “Play ball!”  Then there's that first, fastball pitch towards the plate and your breath catches for second.  Will the batter be quick enough to catch a piece of it, his bat swinging around hard and then there's the sound of contact…CRACK!!!!!!!!!!!!  The ball soar's off the wood and heads for the moon like a rocket from Cape Kennedy.  The crowd roars!!   That's where we were last night, with friend and family, enjoying a real American pastime.  And listening to the sounds of wood.

Then, this morning, we rose up early, grabbed a quick breakfast, jumped into the car and headed for the nearby seaport town of Portsmouth, NH.  We live 18 miles from that history rich community, but just don't visit it as often as we would like to.  The truth is, once there, you simply cannot walk down any brick covered alley without feeling the ghosts of those early settlers all around you.  Portsmouth, in its time hosted such found fathers as George Washington and many others.  It was a booming port and contributed greatly to the healthy commerce of the times, after America became a new country.  Thus it was only fitting that this morning, to the waving crowds of hunders along the shores, that several wood masted “tall” ships should pay a visit.  The harbor fire boat led the magnificient procession as people waved and took pictures from the both shores.  The elation in the crowds was keen and no one gave any thought to the sticky, humid warm weather once those graceful ships glided past.

Fittingly an artillery squad, dressed in authentic colonial military garb were on hand to fire off shot after shot in welcome to these beautifuly queens of the sea.   The little children in attendance seemed to appreciate that cannon as much as the ships.

And even though it was impossible for me to hear, what with the cannon, the boat whistles, the crowds cheering, I could easily look at these vessels and imagine the sounds of planks creaking underfoot.  The soft, gentle groans of  those heavy masts as the tradewinds buffeted the white sails and pushed her across the waves.  The sounds of wood, alive on the water, reaching back into the pages of history.  See what I mean, somehow our history, hewn from the great forests, has forever entwined our past with the sounds of wood.  It makes for pretty amazing music.

We live in a land of riches beyond our imaginings. Riches in our pastimes, our history and all the simple things we relish every day.  Happy Birthday America.  Here's hoping you have a million more.
Ron – Over & out.