Clinton Airlines

 

It was one of those mornings. The previous day’s coffee is cold in the pot—as I look through my kitchen window I watch my dog traipse through what I hope is mud. Damn, we just cleaned the carpets, but another sleepless night keeps me from an immediate intervention.  I placed my oversized mug (40 ounces of porcelain that doubles as a bicep workout) into the microwave— my body anticipates the boost and responds with a bottomless growl. Seconds later and my mug was empty. Don’t judge me…we’re all junkies in some form or another. Like clockwork my evacuation orders were received, but I forgot my newspaper.  Without hesitation I walked out to my driveway wearing only my black boxer-briefs and a t-shirt and start the newspaper hunt. In my humble opinion it takes far more effort to drive by the front of my house and throw the paper under one of our cars then it would to just drop one out of his window on my front walk, maybe the paper guy thinks that he’s saving on plastic by utilizing the shelter of my car. I dropped into a modified push up position and grabbed the paper which was wrapped in plastic…go figure. I go to stand up and there is Jake, finishing his run for the day.

 Damn, too late to scamper back inside, “hey Jake—out for a run?”

“Yep, trying to stay in shape.”

“Yeah, you don’t want to fall asleep on your laptop and over-shoot your runway!” I said in jest. Being a pilot, I thought he would at least crack a smile, instead he comments on my shorts.

“Nice running tights…I didn’t know jockey underwear made running clothes.” He turns away and jogs into his garage.

Later that day, I had a fortuitous encounter with Jake out front. “Guess who flew over to Korea with a Clinton!”

To be continued…

 

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